'Fifteen minutes.'
'I can?t get beautiful in fifteen minutes!'
'You?re already beautiful,' he said calmly, leaning back against the headboard of his bed and flipping open the book. She looked at him quickly, hard, too see if he was lying — but of course, Draco didn?t lie. What were the other things he?d said he didn?t do? I don?t lie…or faint…and I don?t dance.
'I?ll be there in fifteen minutes,' she said. 'If you promise to dance.'
Draco looked up. 'With you, or just in general?'
'It would look a bit funny if you just danced with me.'
'All right,' said Draco offhandedly, returning his attention to the book. 'I promise. I?ll dance.'
Surely it had been more than fifteen minutes, Ginny fretted, flitting about her room in a state of great agitation. She was, in general, ready — she had remembered a charm that smoothed her unruly locks into a velvety river of flame-colored silk, and had fastened it with clips in the shape of tiny multicolored butterflies. Her dress was perfect — blood-colored satin, with rows of black bows down the front and straps that crossed in back, showing her slim, freckled shoulders to great advantage. The problem? Her shoes. Search as she might, all over her borrowed bedroom, she could not find the ones that had come with her dress — she must have left them in the library, along with her wand. The only other option was a pair of worn trainers — not really an option at all. She had no idea where she was supposed to get another pair of shoes at the eleventh hour like this. She wished, fervently, that she had the Time-Turner back again so that she could give herself an extra two hours to get ready -
then smiled ruefully as she realized that that was exactly why Dumbledore had taken their Keys away in the first place. One was not supposed to use exceptionally old, exceptionally powerful magical tools for the express purpose of perfecting ones outfit.
Ginny swore, and kicked at a bedpost with her bare foot.
'Not very ladylike,' said a voice at the door.
It was Draco, of course. He had thrown an elegantly cut caramel-colored suede jacket on over his sweater, and looked, if possible, even more put-together than before. He was leaning against the doorframe, radiating ironic detachment and aloof confidence. Ginny looked at him with great dislike.
'Polite people knock,' she said coldly.
'I'll keep that in mind in case I ever meet any.' He held out a hand to her. 'Aren't you ready? You look ready.'
Ginny ignored his proffered hand, and pointed a bare toe at him accusingly. 'You made me rush,' she said irritably. 'I forgot my shoes, and now I can't find them.'
Draco grinned. It lit up his face.
'Its not funny,' she snapped.
'On the contrary. But I won't debate the point. Accio!' he murmured under his breath, reaching out his left hand as he did so. A moment later, he caught something out of the air, and tossed it to her.
Reflexively, she seized it, and stared —
'Ducky socks?' she said, looking down at them. Cotton, white with a print of yellow ducks, and a small hole in the left toe.
'They're clean,' said Draco.
'They're socks,' said Ginny. 'With ducks.'
'Put them on,' said Draco, and so calmly did he say it that Ginny found herself sitting down on the bed, and drawing the socks onto her feet. No sooner were they on, then Draco waved his hand at them — there was a bright sharp flash of light, and where the ducky socks had been, a pair of transparent crystal shoes, delicate and prismlike, sparkled on her feet.
Ginny looked from the sparkling shoes to Draco, and then back at her feet, and then back at Draco. Whose expression was unreadable.
Whose whole personality was often as illegible as a book written in Parseltongue: a boy who could conjure up butterflies only to burn them to death, but thought nothing of sacrificing his own life for someone else's, whose clever tongue could flatter a friend or cut apart an enemy with equal deftness, who loved as fiercely as he hated, and hated as fiercely as he loved. A bundle of contradictions was Draco Malfoy, but then, so were most people… weren't they?
'Glass slippers,' she said, finally. 'Cute, if not original.'
'I thought it was better to go with the old standards,' said Draco.
'But they're really ducky socks,' said Ginny.
'Nobody needs to know that,' said Draco, 'but you and me.'
He held out his hand to her again, and this time, she took it.
'Harry Potter and Hermione Granger!'
'Rubeus Hagrid and Madame Olympe Maxime!'
'Arthur and Molly Weasley!'
'Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour!'
'Remus Lupin and Heidi Howard!'
'Angelina Johnson and Fred Weasley!'
'George Weasley and….. that is young mister Weasley isn?t it?'
