Disclaimer: The following is a work of fan fiction using characters from the world of Harry Potter, which is owned by J.K. Rowling. The characters, creatures and other related descriptions are also owned by J.K. Rowling. I will not be receiving any monies in relation to this fan fiction. I have also used the HP Lexicon for some minor details.

Important Note: While this story is set in the Victorian times, Wizarding society is far more liberal about women, their education and pursuit of a career. However, I have attempted to adhere to the social codes that dictated Victorian society. So, if you see some things that may seem out of place, then this is why.

The Marriage Market

CHAPTER I

An Unfortunate Meeting

Ginevra Weasley's greatest ambition in life was to become a Mediwitch. She had bore witness to devastation and death, to pain and injury, as many had in the second war against Lord Voldemort. Yet, what she had witnessed and experienced caused the desire to ease the suffering of her fellow man to blossom rapidly within her. To her, the dream of wanting to be a star Chaser now seemed so childish in comparison. The consequences of this was that Ginevra had left Hogwarts five years ago, a proud Gryffindor with a decent set of N.E.W.T.S to her name. On top of this, a possible engagement to Harry Potter glistened hopefully around the corner. However, the scholarship she had been hoping for to attend St. Mungo's School of Medicine never came. Likewise, the hopeful engagement to Harry Potter never came either.

According to Harry himself, he wasn't ready for marriage. A year after leaving Hogwarts, Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas had invited Harry on a tour around Europe shortly after her brother, Ron, and Hermione Granger's wedding, and he had duly accepted with great suddenness as if he wanted nothing more than to be away from her and the awkward situation he had created. Ginevra's parents, her mother in particular, tried to make excuses for Harry; the favourite one being he felt too ashamed for leading her on for so long that he could not face the family. Ginevra, not one to wallow in self-pity, remembered not to trust in men who professed their love so soon after a near-death experience. But, she never did get an explanation from St. Mungo's School of Medicine regarding her rejection.

It was those two incidents in her life that had caused her to be where she was now, celebrating the New Year of 1843 with her cantankerous old great aunt, Muriel Prewett, in fashionable London. Muriel had quite unexpectedly sprung an invitation into society the year before upon Ginevra's mother, almost begging her to allow her only daughter to be whisked off to London the following year. Ginevra had initially been suspicious and had wondered countless times about what her aunt's motivations could possibly be, but the more she thought about it, the more obvious it became. She had suspected for some time that the rejection she had received from St. Mungo's was largely due to her lack of wealthy connections, or at least interesting connections, so perhaps entering into London society would not be a bad idea; after all, she could make those all-important connections there, she could network.

The year following up to her debut into society had not been without its hardships, however, as she had merely learned the basics of good manners from her mother and father. Manners that were, according to her aunt, not fit to be seen in respectable society. What followed was an intensive regime of learning exactly how to slot herself in easily with the class of people she would inevitably be associating with. That meant learning the intricate details of social etiquette, the many and varied steps of the fashionable dances of the day, how to engage in intelligent conversation, how to sing well and play an instrument. Yes, all this one year! But, the most important thing of all, at least to Muriel, was the fine art of attracting the attentions of a worthy suitor. This, as it been made obvious to both Ginevra and her parents over the course of her learning, was the reason why Muriel had sought her niece out and practically begged her to enter society with her.

Her parents did not seem at all put out by this scheme, on the contrary, they seemed to condone it, particularly as they were quite old-fashioned, no matter what encouragements they had given their daughter regarding her career pursuits. They would love to see her married as many of her brothers already were, and if it was to someone who could elevate her from her poor upbringing, then much the better. Ginevra was decidedly bent on ignoring any of aunt's suggestions, should it come to it, but then she remembered that she could not throw her aunt's hospitality and generosity back in her face like that, for Muriel had spent a great deal of money on Ginevra and was planning on letting her stay with her for the duration of the season in her London home. Ginevra could hardly be so obstinate, even if her aunt's motivations weren't entirely selfless.

So, that is how we find Ginevra on New Year's Day of 1843. A witch so unlike the witch of the year before, a witch any respectable wizard should want to marry, according to her aunt, if she would only hold her tongue in public. To Ginevra's credit, she had endured, in the past week alone, four dinner parties, one ball, and six days worth house calls during the day, all the while trying to maintain the pretence of being one who belonged in such places. To top it off, she had only met a couple of people she knew from Hogwarts and only one new acquaintance who might be likely to help her with St. Mungo's. The culmination of all this resulted in a rather snappy retort to a leering gentleman attempting to lay his hands upon her in a deserted hallway the evening before. Needless to say, Muriel was not impressed with her niece's way of dealing with such men.

"Ah! Ginevra!" the woman in question appeared in the parlour. Her violently purple silk gown was quite the picture, but Ginevra had soon learnt not to question her aunt's bold fashion choices. "You look very well."

"Thank you, Aunt," she replied courteously, wishing she could say the same of Muriel. Unfortunately, age had caught up with Muriel rather viciously and had ravaged her face of wrinkles and had made her toothless. She could have paid to have new pair regrown, had it not been for a slighted young lady who had subsequently laid a curse upon her aunt. The consequence was an unfortunate toothless mouth. Ginevra had at least already established that her aunt did not fish for flattery, but rather a purpose. That purpose now was to see her niece settled with a decent wizard who had a sizeable fortune and to be able to claim it was she who had brought them together.

"And I have excellent news, my dear," she said, drawing Ginevra in by her arm, a clawed and withered old hand resting there as she led the way out of the house. "Mr. Draco Malfoy has just come into town with his friend, a Mr. Zabini. Rose has told me that they shall be attending this evening's ball! I am sure you have met him, Ginevra, I have heard your brothers mention his name...?"

Ginevra smiled and scoffed at this news. "Yes, you probably have, though not in friendly terms I'd guess," she said, wondering how her aunt could get excited by someone like Malfoy entering their mists. True, she had not seen him since Hogwarts, but she couldn't imagine him being much different at all. That went for his arrogant friend, Zabini, as well. "You do realise the connections that the Malfoy family had to Voldemort?"

Muriel winced at the sound of the name, many people were still unaccustomed to hearing it uttered despite the dark wizard being dead. "I do wish you would stop saying that name!" her aunt snapped as they stepped inside the waiting carriage, rapping her fan across Ginevra's elbow. "And that was all his father, my dear! The son is quite changed, I hear, and is incidentally looking for a wife since his parents passed away."

Ginevra sent a firm look in the direction of her aunt as they sat facing each other. "If you think you can try to push me towards Draco Malfoy, you are sorely mistaken, Aunt," she said with finality, hoping to end the conversation. "That is one wizard that I will not indulge for you."

Muriel gave a critical tut. "He has thirty thousand a year, Ginevra, there is no harm in trying," she said, her most disapproving look upon her face.

"He also has an unshakeable dislike of Weasley's, so that ends that venture of yours," she replied with a confident smile as the carriage pulled away smoothly. No doubt it had been charmed to avoid the bumps that muggles experienced on the cobbled roads. Happily, her aunt did not continue the conversation concerning Malfoy, but instead shifted to his friend, much to Ginevra's detriment.

"But what of this Zabini fellow? He has twenty thousand a year, and quite a sizeable fortune to be inherited upon his mother's death," Muriel said with just as much enthusiasm. "I never heard of him being involved with You-Know-Who."

"Impossible though it may seem, Zabini is perhaps even more arrogant than his friend Malfoy," she replied with an impatient sigh, tired of her aunt trying to force wizards in her direction. "Incidentally, he also has a troublesome dislike for Muggleborns, so he won't be very friendly with Hermione."

Muriel laughed her croaky laugh at this point. "Ginevra, no one thinks like that anymore. Rose tells me this Mr. Zabini has donated hundreds to charities supporting Muggle displacement."

"No one speaks of it openly, Aunt," she laughed. "Of course they cannot air their true opinions any longer; it would be Azkaban for them if they did. Minister Shacklebolt does not tolerate such beliefs."

Muriel tutted in annoyance once more, pursing her lips in stark disapproval. "Well," she said haughtily, "we shall see tonight, shan't we?"

Ginevra did not reply this time, which successfully put an end to the conversation, and simply turned her gaze out of the window. They were not far from their destination now. Lady Rose Selwyn, a firm friend of her aunt's, was hosting the ball this evening and had invited a great many witches and wizards in town. Being as wealthy as she was, thanks to her geriatric husband, most of her invitations had been greedily accepted, so it was no surprise to find when they finally reached the Selwyn mansion that it was a hub of social activity and noise. Lady Selwyn's balls, her aunt had told her, were famous for their abundance of dance partners and fashionable attendees, so Ginevra felt hopeful about the evening ahead. Despite having no desire to attract a man as her aunt was so desperate for, she did enjoy the dancing and would take full advantage of any offers made to her.

"Rose has outdone herself this year, my dear!" Muriel said with excited glee as they ascended the stone steps towards the large double front doors.

Ginevra could not disagree with her aunt; she was awed by the decorations surrounding the large house, the largest in the street and the grandest by far. Fairies buzzed about leafy evergreens leading up to the doorway, a superfluous amount of candles adorned each window, each of them charmed to stay alight in the soft but bitter breeze, and just outside the entrance were two extravagantly decorated Christmas trees. The pair of them had coloured delicate glass baubles and candles, and each with a particularly bright fairy on top greeted them as they walked through the door. Inside was just as attentively decorated. As they were guided through to the ballroom and their cloaks were taken, Ginevra noted the smatterings of Christmas trees throughout, each richly decorated with ribbons and baubles, as well as vast amounts of tinsel draped across the baroque ceiling, over windows and along doorframes. Amongst all the bustle were hundreds of house elves, balancing large round silver trays containing drinks and canapés on their tiny heads, however it did seem as though the trays were moving all by themselves due to the small stature of the elves carrying them.

"My dear Muriel!" a haggard old voice exclaimed.

They both turned and saw Lady Selwyn bustling as fast as she could towards them, greeting people as she went by in a flurry, with her arms open wide to embrace her friend. "I was saying to Ginevra how you have outdone yourself this year," Muriel said with a gummy smile, and the compliment elicited a somewhat girly blush from the other lady, a look which did not suit someone so elderly.

"You pay me compliments I do not deserve, Muriel," gushed Lady Selwyn, batting a hand to her friend. "But, your dear niece here... now, she will cause a stir tonight. She has the look of her mother when she was the same age."

Ginevra curtsied in gratitude at the compliment. "Thank you, Lady Selwyn, but I'd wager that there are prettier witches here tonight."

Lady Selwyn gave a tut, the same sort of tut her aunt liked to affect, and she drew Ginevra in so they could link arms. "That may be, my dear," she said quietly, casting an obvious glance about the room. "But, I doubt they have your sharp tongue or exquisite singing voice."

"It is her sharp tongue I worry about," Muriel said critically. "Oh!" she gasped so suddenly that Ginevra thought she was in pain. "Is that not Draco Malfoy, Rose? Tell me it is!"

Ginevra rolled her eyes as she followed her aunt's gaze, groaning inwardly as she soon discovered that Muriel was correct. Draco Malfoy entered the ballroom, an irritating smile on his face as though he had just shared a private joke with the friend by his side, Blaise Zabini.

"It is Mr. Malfoy!" Lady Selwyn said in a fast whisper. "And his friend, Mr. Zabini. I must go and greet them. Don't worry, my dear friend, I shall not forget to make the introductions!"

Ginevra again groaned inwardly at this last point, but realised nothing would dissuade her aunt from her purpose. It would be a waste of time trying to get out of this particular engagement. Lady Selwyn bustled off towards the new arrivals, and Ginevra noted that they observed the correct greetings to their hostess. They bowed adequately, which she had not expected. She had imagined that they would merely quirk their arrogant heads and move on, but they actually engaged in conversation with Lady Selwyn. Ginevra scoffed to herself, thinking that they only paid her such attention because she was just as wealthy as they were.

"Who is that lady with them?" her aunt asked abruptly, drawing her niece's attention to the dark-skinned woman behind the two men. She was tall in stature and dressed in luxurious silks and lace, with a rather expensive-looking feather adorning her hair. Ginevra presumed it was a relation of Zabini's for she had that distinct look of self-importance about her that had characterised the wizard whilst at Hogwarts.

"Probably a sister or cousin of Mr. Zabini," she replied disinterestedly, deciding to cast her attention elsewhere now.

Muriel sniffed in that disapproving way. "Well, she thinks very highly of herself," she said critically. "That is not a trait many wizards find attractive in a young woman, so she won't be too much competition." Ginevra decided to ignore the last comment altogether, having guessed that there would be no point in trying to get it into Muriel's head that she was not interested in either of the wizards. "But, the two wizards are very handsome, are they not, Ginevra?"

"Aunt, I have just seen Demelza, do you mind if I go and speak with her?" she asked, completely ignoring Muriel.

"Ginevra!" she snapped, drawing her niece's attention back to the situation at hand. "Rose could introduce them at any moment! You will wait until she does so," Muriel said through gritted gums. The sight was rather humorous, but she daren't laugh.

"I have met them before at Hogwarts," she replied with a frown. "I do not need to be irritated further by meeting them again."

"Hush, girl! They are coming over!" Muriel said frantically, plastering a closed smile on her face. At times like this, Muriel was well aware that a toothless grin was not wholly appropriate. Ginevra's stomach lurched a little as she saw that they were, in fact, walking towards them. It really was quite embarrassing as they would no doubt assume that she was there to beg for a rich husband, which she genuinely was not, no matter what her aunt hoped for.

They all bowed and curtsied to each other accordingly, which again caused some surprise on Ginevra's part as they paid her the same amount of respect that they had paid their host, a woman of considerable wealth and of a decidedly higher station. The witch with them did look considerably haughty as she cast a critical eye over the proceedings, which seemed to greatly diminish the beauty she so obviously held, but then Zabini had an air about him that seemed to question why he was being introduced to these people. Malfoy, however, seemed nothing but curious by the glint in his eyes and, though she hated to admit it, her aunt had been right in her generic assessment; Malfoy was uncommonly handsome and she found, with aggravation, that her appreciative eye was drawn to him. He had a sharp jaw line, a feature he had whilst in school, yet it appeared stronger, befitting a wizard of his age, and he had high cheekbones with a long, straight aristocratic nose. All this was framed by his short, wavy white blonde hair that so characterised his family as much as her red hair characterised hers. But, it was his eyes that were truly something to behold; she had never looked at them before, never really having the opportunity nor the inclination, but they were nothing short of beautiful. They were a clear silver grey colour, a cold and hard unique shade and yet, oddly, she detected a certain kind of warmth there...

"Mr. Malfoy expressed a desire to be introduced to you both," Lady Selwyn said, unable to disguise her own glee and drawing Ginevra out of her own guilty observations. Apparently, Lady Selwyn was just as hopeful as Muriel about getting her married to someone exceptionally rich. But, she did briefly wonder why in Merlin's name Malfoy wanted to meet her, it was obvious in the way he regarded her that he knew who she was.

"That is very kind of you," Muriel said genially. Ginevra had to repress the urge to roll her eyes in exasperation. Instead, she gave a small smile, the only evidence of an inside joke.

Malfoy smiled back at her, his eyes focused solely upon her and she realised with a shock that she had been staring at him whilst thinking about her private joke. Ginevra hastily looked away, mortified.

"This is one of my closest friends, Mrs. Muriel Prewett," Lady Selwyn continued, indicating Ginevra's aunt.

"A pleasure to meet you, Madam," Malfoy said smoothly, tipping his head politely. His companions smiled, though Ginevra could tell this was with reluctance in the way their mouths stretched unnaturally.

"Thank you, sir," Muriel replied, still trying to hide her toothless mouth behind her lips, the consequence was that she spoke without barely moving her lips. The sight was quite comical, and Ginevra dared Malfoy and his companions to laugh, but they barely bat an eyelid. "And this is my great-niece, Miss Ginevra Weasley."

Malfoy turned his attention to her once more, that smile still on his lips. "We have met before," he said, but there was no trace of criticism nor malice in his words. He merely reached for her white gloved hand and kissed her lightly on her knuckles. The action had been so sudden that Ginevra had to again repress an urge, but this time it was to jump back. "It is a pleasure to meet you again, Miss Weasley."

Ginevra blinked, quite taken aback by his politeness, but managed to curtsey once more, after all Muriel was watching with her close eye. "We were at Hogwarts together, Mr. Malfoy," she said with a smile, an idea suddenly striking her. "You knew my brother, didn't you? Ronald Weasley?"

"Yes, I remember your brother very well," he replied with ease, which annoyed her as she had been expecting him to show a flicker of annoyance at the mention of his old childhood enemy, but he did not satisfy her. "Though I was not great friends with him. Does he not come into society?"

Ginevra was well aware that he knew her brother did not come into society. Ron was a working man, as was his wife, but they lived comfortably enough. At any rate, they would not attend an event such as this if they could help it. "No, he has been married these five years, to Hermione Granger, you remember her, don't you?"

Malfoy nodded, again surprising Ginevra, as he still showed no sign of derision or irritation. She had thought Hermione, a muggle-born, would have elicited some reaction. "Yes, I hear she is doing very well at the Ministry," he answered just as politely as before. "But, forgive me, I am being rude. Let me introduce you to my companions." Malfoy gestured to Zabini. "This is my good friend, Blaise Zabini. And this lovely witch is his cousin, Miss Florence Zabini."

They all said their 'pleased to meet you's', and engaged in some meaningless small talk until Lady Selwyn interrupted. "Now, I promised I would introduce you to my nephew, didn't I?"

Malfoy nodded as Lady Selwyn took hold of his arm. "Have a lovely evening, Mrs. Prewett, Miss Weasley."

They finally moved off, allowing Ginevra to breathe out in relief. "Are you happy now, Aunt?" she asked in a light tone, glad to have gotten it out of the way sooner rather than later. "There is no interest in either of them towards me, so can we move on?"

Muriel tittered, dragging her eyes away from the prey that now retreated from them. "I agree with you, Ginevra," she replied, taking her niece by surprise. "But only on Mr. Zabini's side. There was definitely something in the way Mr. Malfoy looked upon you that could suggest future interest.

Ginevra groaned. "Aunt, there was nothing there," she said furiously through gritted teeth. "You are only seeing what you want to see."

"Dear, I am a hundred and twelve, do not tell me what I see and what I don't see," Muriel said in a firm voice. "I have lived and experienced much more than you have, child, and I know romantic interest when I see it."

She gawped at her aunt, disbelieving the words falling out of her mouth. "Malfoy cannot possibly be interested in me, Aunt," she retorted. "You very well know that our father's were not on friendly terms. And his past behaviour whilst at Hogwarts was reproachable, not to mention he is a bigoted hypocrite who has no fondness for redheads."

Muriel laughed at her again. "My dear, you are so firmly stuck in the past that you cannot see what is happening in front of you," she replied simply, which only served to anger her niece further. "Mr. Malfoy is a very generous philanthropist, particularly to unfortunate muggles and magic folk alike. He very publicly renounced You-Know-Who, not to mention -."

"Aunt, I do not need to hear how brilliant and charitable Malfoy is," she interrupted coolly. "Now, if you don't mind, I am going to speak with Demelza."

"Oh! You are just like your mother!" Muriel said in anger. "Too headstrong for your own good. Go! But do not come to me when you have no decent suitor!" Her aunt waved her off sulkily, not deigning to even look at her now.

Ginevra took leave of her aunt at the first opportunity and made her way through the crowds of people to attempt to locate her friend, Demelza Robins. On her way through the masses, she was accosted an innumerate amount of times by wizards begging her to dance with them. Ginevra gladly obliged them, and guiltily hoped they had some good connections. That was the sole reason for agreeing to enter society in the first place. Much to her annoyance, as she moved closer to the revelry, she saw that Demelza was in fact engaged with a young dark-haired man who she wasn't familiar with. If her aunt had allowed her to go sooner, she would have been able to catch Demelza before the dance.

"Miss Weasley!" a voice called out to her. "Miss Weasley!"

Ginevra turned and found the source of the voice immediately. It was one of the ladies she had been introduced to recently by her aunt, a Miss Patricia Stimpson, who was a few years older than her. She had been a Ravenclaw whilst at Hogwarts, and had done exceptionally well in the Department of Magical Transportation within the Ministry. On top of that, she was from a well-respected family with decent connections and an adequate fortune.

"Good evening, Miss Stimpson," she said with a smile as they both curtsied to each other.

"You look very well tonight, Miss Weasley," Miss Stimpson said, no trace of dishonesty in her face.

"Thank you," Ginevra replied graciously. "You look well also." It was true; Patricia Stimpson had an elegant grace about her that gave her that look of classical beauty that was so desired at the moment.

Miss Stimpson linked her arm in Ginevra's. "Would you mind taking a walk with me?"

"Of course I wouldn't, Miss Stimpson," she obliged, allowing the other witch to guide her about the room at a gentle pace.

"Do call me Patricia, I dislike all that formal stuff between friends," she said with an airy wave of her hand. "But, will you mind if I call you Ginevra?"

"I would prefer that as well," she admitted.

"Good, I am glad of that," she smiled as spoke, an open and friendly smile. Once they reached an area of the ballroom that Patricia decided she liked, they both stopped. "I have been thinking of our meeting last week, Ginevra, and I took a great liking to you. You are unlike many of the other women I come into contact with during the London season."

"I am sure my manners are nowhere near as polished as theirs," Ginevra replied, humour in her voice.

Patricia laid a hand on hers in a friendly manner. "On the contrary, your manners are superior to some witches who have lived in society their whole lives!" Patricia gave a tinkling laugh that made her eyes shine brightly. "But, Ginevra, my reason for approaching you now is to extend an offer of support into St. Mungo's. I do not fault your aunt's assessment of you, and she is as honest a witch as they come. When she says you have intellect, I am inclined to believe her."

Ginevra stared dumbstruck at Patricia, shocked that she was willing to sponsor her so readily. "She speaks too highly of me," she said in an attempt to be modest, suddenly feeling rather guilty at the way she had treated Muriel earlier.

"I know she does not, she only speaks of what she sees," Patricia insisted. "And your decision to not use your connections to Harry Potter also shows a good deal of independence. You want to do this for yourself and I admire that."

Ginevra smiled. "I am glad someone does, my parents could never understand why I couldn't ask Harry..." she said, a little bitterness touching her tone.

"Parents always want what is best for their children, they don't want to see you suffer," Patricia explained. "At any rate, I cannot sponsor you directly, which I am sure you are aware as I do not work at St. Mungo's, but I have a close acquaintance who does. Would you be willing to meet him?"

Ginevra brightened up at this. "Of course I would," she replied. "Just let me know when and I shall persuade my aunt to come along."

"There is to be a ball at Fortescue's in a month's time, my friend will be in attendance and I shall be able to introduce you to each other then," Patricia said.

"Fortescue's is very prestigious, I worry that myself and my aunt will be unable to secure a place there," Ginevra said, unsure. She also felt embarrassed to admit it, but if they couldn't get into Fortescue's, there would be no way of meeting this potential sponsor.

Patricia waved a hand carelessly, casting Ginevra's worries aside. "Your aunt is friends with Lady Rose Selwyn, isn't she?" Ginevra nodded. "Well, then, your place at Fortescue's is secured. Her husband is a distant relative of Florean Fortescue and he always reserves invitations for him and his friends."

"That is perfect," she said happily. "Thank you so much, Patricia. If there is anything I can do for you, then don't hesitate to ask."

"But, what of your aunt's designs?" she asked with a mischievous smile. "She is an avid matchmaker, has been for many a London season."

Ginevra couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes. "My aunt can design as much as she likes, but I have no inclination toward marriage at this very moment. Though she is rather determined to find me a rich husband."

"Well, forgive me, but witches of your aunt's age are always that way inclined," Patricia said humorously. "Romance has long since left them in many cases, and it is clear she would like to see you with a little romance... albeit with someone wealthy, of course. That is imperative, Ginevra."

Ginevra laughed with the other witch. "Yes, they must be wealthy... I can't disappoint her now, can I?"

"Scandalous, that would be."

They sat a few minutes more discussing society in general, until it was almost time for the next dance to begin, which meant her first partner would be searching her out. Ginevra made her excuses to Patricia, both expressing a wish to see each other once more before the ball ended, and with that she made her way amongst the throng of people again, passing the refreshments table as she did so.

"... but still a Weasley, Draco..."

Ginevra stopped abruptly upon hearing her name, and hid behind a group of people to listen further.

"Yes, it is unfortunate that she is a Weasley," another voice agreed with the first. It was obviously Draco Malfoy. "But, it wasn't as though I was going to run off and propose to her, Blaise, now, was I?"

Ginevra wondered what in Merlin's name they were talking about.

"Asking a witch to dance is a clear announcement that you are interested," Zabini replied steadily, though there was humour in his tone. Clearly his friend wanting to ask her to dance was a great amusement to him. Ginevra thought it highly questionable and felt rather put out by the whole thing. Why should Draco Malfoy wish to dance with her at all? Unless it was to humiliate her.

"She did interest me," Malfoy replied to her astonishment. "Did you not see how she brought her brother and his wife into the conversation?"

"How is that of any consequence?" Zabini asked, bemused.

Malfoy laughed, a sound that took her by surprise as she had never heard such a positive sound coming from him. "She was obviously trying to get a reaction out of me," he explained this as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You know how it was with them back at Hogwarts, Blaise."

"And why in Merlin's name does that make you want to dance with her?" Zabini asked in a bland voice, still not understanding his friend's motives.

"Because, my friend, no witch in society has had the gall to try and irritate me before," Malfoy explained. "It doesn't hurt that she is easy on the eyes, either."

There was a moment of silence, presumably Zabini was standing there in some sort of shock at his friend's words. Ginevra herself could not blame him. She thought it would be more believable had someone given Malfoy a personality transplant.

"Usually they are falling at your feet and begging for your attention," Zabini finally said, "that, or your money, whichever way you choose to look upon it. And you would be better off asking one of those witches to dance. They will fawn over you and treat you like a king."

Malfoy scoffed. "Why waste my time? I do not desire a wife who is after my fortune," he said decidedly.

"Then I would not ask Ginevra Weasley, either," Zabini pointed out. "It is still common knowledge that the Weasley's are poorer than most."

"I am well aware of that," snapped Malfoy. "That was why I asked for an introduction to be made. I wanted to see if she would stoop low enough to try and gain my favour."

Zabini laughed at this point, a derisive laugh aimed at his friend. "Now you wish to stoop low and ask her to dance with you, I think your plan backfired somehow."

"Perhaps it is a very clever ploy," Malfoy said thoughtfully, ignoring the jibes his friend had made. "Perhaps she does not throw herself in the way of rich wizards in the hope that they will come to her... We are so used to witches doing the exact opposite, we would be drawn in by her apparent lack of interest..."

"It is obvious that it is a scheme, Draco," Zabini said. "Why else would she be in society if not to attract a decent husband?"

Malfoy gave a non-committal sound. "I don't pretend to be deep in the affairs of Weasley's, but something tells me this witch has a different motive," he said speculatively. "And I should like to find out what it is. First, I think I will seek her out and claim a dance from her."

Ginevra heard the distinct sound of a glass being placed onto a tabletop.

"Don't be foolish, Draco," Zabini called out.

Evidently Malfoy had moved off in search of her. The thought of that left her with a distinct feeling of bemusement. Certainly, Malfoy had explained to his friend quite clearly why he wanted to dance with her, but she did not understand the logic behind it for a moment. Ginevra carefully looked about before she made her way toward the dance floor, her original destination, so as not to be accosted by Malfoy. She thought it quite arrogant for him to assume that she would actually dance with him, a prospect even more unlikely now due to his idea that she must be scheming for a rich husband.

Thankfully, she met up with her partner without meeting Malfoy, and had a happy time dancing two dances with him. Then she danced with another partner, sat out the next, and began another. Malfoy had nearly gone out of her head until she saw him hovering about the sides of the dance, staring directly at her. The realisation of it made her stop mid-sentence to her dance partner and she had to wave off his enquiring questions. Malfoy had now found her, she knew it would have happened eventually, considering the evening's gossip at a ball usually centred on the more prolific dancers.

Ginevra found she could not concentrate on the rest of the dance with the spectre of Malfoy looming at the edges of the dance, it was quite unnerving. She wanted to tell him to be on his merry way, to go and find some other poor witch to torment, but she knew she could not in polite society. Ginevra would have had no qualms about doing such a thing should they be in any other time or place, but she could not embarrass her aunt nor Lady Selwyn.

With reluctance, she parted from the poor wizard she had been neglecting for the near entirety of the dance, and kept her wits about her for Malfoy was no longer lingering at the edges of the dance floor. Ginevra picked her way through the crowd, suspicious eyes scanning the mob of people laughing and chattering when a looming figure blocked her way. She groaned inwardly at her rotten luck.

"My friend is searching you out at this very moment," Zabini said with a humorous glint in his eyes. At least he was the lesser of two evils.

"Your friend?" she asked, plastering a confused expression upon her face. "You mean Mr. Malfoy? Why should he be searching me out?"

Her display of ignorance had seemed to work as Zabini continued without so much as a flicker of derision or doubt upon his face. It was either that or he was very good at hiding his emotions. "He wishes to beg for a dance with you, Miss Weasley," he replied plainly, no trace of the mocking tone he had taken with Malfoy when he had expressed the wish to do so. Ginevra looked as shocked as she thought such an announcement should warrant. "And he is so desperate for your favour that he has enlisted my help in searching for you."

Ginevra was sure she baulked visibly at that statement but he said nothing. "That does show desperation," she decided to say, a sweet smile on her face. "I must say I am rather flattered. Will you take me to him, Mr. Zabini?"

As she had thought, Zabini gave a small smirk, a little look of triumph in his eyes. No doubt his earlier concerns about her being a gold-digger had just been cemented in his mind by her decision to dance with Malfoy without so much as a protestation. "Of course I will, Miss Weasley," he said obligingly. Zabini held out his arm to her for her to take and led her across the ballroom to wherever Malfoy was searching for her. Ginevra put on her best smile as Malfoy came into view, though she did have to admit to herself again that he had become uncommonly handsome in the intervening years. "I have your prize, Draco," announced Zabini. "And she came very willingly."

Ginevra threw Malfoy a coy look, to which he reacted with a rather disarming smile. "I hear you wish to dance with me, Mr. Malfoy."

"Indeed, I do," he said in a low voice, taking her hand from Zabini's arm and placing a kiss upon there once again.

Ginevra tittered lightly. "And why would you wish to do that?"

That took the both of them by surprise. They stared at her with equal amounts of shock in their eyes, but they recovered quickly. "Why?" he asked. "Well, because you are the prettiest witch here, Miss Weasley, and possibly the most interesting."

"You flatter me well, Mr. Malfoy," she replied in a calm voice. "But I heard that you thought a few other less appealing things about me, namely that I am conducting an intricate scheme to bag myself a rich husband. Is that not true?" The pair of them gawped at her, but it seemed only Malfoy had the decency to look at least a little ashamed. Zabini simply gave his irritating smirk to the proceedings. Ginevra smiled at them genially. "Your silence speaks for you, gentlemen." With that, she turned from them with a flurry of her skirts and made her way further into the ballroom, feeling perfectly satisfied with herself. She hadn't caused a scene nor had she been improper.

The rest of the evening passed without fault however, and she danced with more decent partners, happy in the knowledge that in a month's time she would be taking that step further to St. Mungo's. Ginevra finally managed to speak with Demelza, who informed her that she could be engaged very soon to the man she had been dancing with at the beginning of the evening. She was shocked to discover that it was Terence Higgs, the former Slytherin seeker, he had been a few years older than the two witches. Happily, there was no sign of Malfoy for the rest of the evening, nor of his companions. It wasn't until the end of the ball that she even saw her aunt again.

Once inside their carriage, Muriel's face was like thunder. "I cannot believe your behaviour, Ginevra," she said with cold fury, and immediately she knew what her aunt was so upset about. No doubt the two Slytherins had gone and told on her, no doubt exaggerating a few points for good measure. "Did you not think I wouldn't hear about it?"

"Not at all, Aunt," she replied calmly. "But, I suppose they did not tell you what they said regarding me? They behaved very ungentlemanly themselves."

"I have heard what they said regarding you, niece," she answered, her voice just as cold and hard as before. Apparently, her aunt was not going to be in a forgiving mood, not even on that point. "Both gentlemen sought me out and explained the entire situation to me, and the apologised profusely, particularly Mr. Malfoy," she added for good measure.

Ginevra felt angered by that; they only did such a thing to make her appear worse, when she had conducted herself with decorum. "That still does not make what they said right, Aunt," she said relentlessly, refusing to back down.

"And what of it? Wealthy wizards and witches alike enter society with the knowledge that others will be after their fortunes, it is common knowledge," Muriel lectured to her. "There was no need to get so uppity about it, Ginevra. You ruined a perfectly excellent chance to charm the Malfoy boy!" Ginevra turned angrily away from her aunt, and glowered out into the night. She was determined never to hear or see Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini again. "I have also invited them to tea on the morrow, so you would do well to think of an adequate apology."

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed this first chapter! Please review as well, I would like some genuine feedback on this one, and they make me happy of course. I am also looking for a beta-reader for this fic, if anyone is interested, please let me know.