Title: Wednesday's Child

Rating: R

Author's Note:

You see before you my pathetic attempt to combine elements of the plot of Georgette Heyer's wonderful novel "Devil's Cub" into a Draco/Ginny fic.  This is incredibly presumptuous of me and, quite probably, a grave mistake- how well a romance novel set in the late 18th century transfer into my vision of the Potterverse?  But when has a half-assed idea ever stopped me before?

Disclaimer:  I only own the huge, gaping plot holes.  Try not to trip over them, and please review.

Part One:

Had it been anyone else who said it, Ginny Weasley probably would have grinned and agreed with them.  She did have too many brothers, and, for the most part, they struck her as being pretty useless.  They used up all the hot water, inhaled all of the food in sight, and inevitably made a tremendous mess- which she usually had the privilege of clearing away, thanks to her mother's rather outdated ideas on the proper occupation for young ladies. 

But hearing it from the pale, twisted lips of Draco Malfoy was absolutely unbearable.  Her hand, clenched around her heavy Transfiguration schoolbook, positively itched to slap him.  "…can't imagine what the old biddy could have been thinking of.  Should have drowned the lot of 'em at birth- spared the rest of us the sight of their freckled-"

"Draay-co!  Stop being such a meanie!  Ginny's right behind you!"  Letty Birmingham, Gryffindor sixth-year, Ginny's roommate and, in her secret opinion, flaming airhead, coyly slapped the older boy's arm.  "He doesn't mean anything by it, Ginny," she assured the slight redhead behind her, tucking her hand into the crook of Draco's elbow and looking up at him through her lashes.  "Apologize, Draco."

Draco looked over his shoulder at the pale girl standing behind them, two steps down the stairwell that lead to the Gryffindor tower.  Had she been there a minute ago?  He had never taken much notice of the youngest Weasley.  She was such a washed-out little thing, except for that awful flaming hair.  Not totally hopeless, though, he noted absently.  Her features were pleasant, her eyes dark and well-shaped.  She was deathly pale, though- Draco tended to think of his own pallor as aristocratic- and her elfin prettiness was nothing compared Letty's overwhelming blonde loveliness.  At least she seemed to accept her own inferiority, though, habitually hiding behind the curtain of her hair or under the hood of her tattered, oversized school robes.  What was her name again?  "No offense, er, Jenny."

Ginny's breathing was unsteady with fury.  No offense?  How could he have not meant to offend her with the suggestion that she and all of her siblings should have been murdered in their infancy?  God, she hated Draco Malfoy, but the idea of snapping back at him was laughable.  "None taken," she said finally, her voice almost inaudible.  Would they never move out of the way?  Blasted narrow stairwells.  "Er- excuse m-"         

"See?"  Letty chirped, interrupting her.  "Practically best mates already!"  She smiled gorgeously up at Draco.  "Goodnight, darling."  She trailed a perfectly manicured finger down the front of his robes, turning her face up in invitation.

Draco lowered his lips to hers, relieved that she had finally stopped chattering.  He was even getting rather tired of Letty, he thought regretfully.  It was shame, as she made for excellent arm-candy- by far the prettiest of the sixth years- and there was the added bonus of dating a Gryffindor- and one that he had caught both Potter and his red-headed sidekick eyeing, to boot.  Well, he thought coolly as he mechanically brushed his mouth over Letty's, ignoring her theatrical moan, one could hardly blame them.  Letty was outwardly perfect, and she was certainly brave- dating a Slytherin proved that.  Too bad, really, that she lacked the wits that God gave cabbage.  Still, one didn't date girls for their brains-

"Look, I really need to get past," Ginny managed, trying to look anywhere but at the tonsil-massaging couple in front of her.

"Ooh, I am sorry," said Letty sweetly, pressing her body against Draco's in order to make room for Ginny to move past her.  Ginny did so, avoiding looking either of them in the face.  As she rounded the corner she heard Letty's stage whisper: "Oh, don't mind her, Draco.  She's jealous.  Never had a boyfriend, poor little thing, and with hair like that- well, and those robes, she's not likely to.  Now, where were we?  Hmm… let's head for that empty classroom on the fourth floor…."

Barely managing to keep from screaming, Ginny kept moving.  When she heard Draco's low chuckle, she moved even faster.  She hated them both, but she hated herself most of all.  When would she stop being such a coward?

*****

Forty minutes later, Draco was strolling past the library, physically satisfied but more than a little bored.  He was pondering how best to break it off with Letty, and considering which girl he might like to date next, when he heard a strange noise coming from a rarely used corridor.  Mildly curious, he stepped into the hallway and, brushing at the cobwebs hanging from the ceiling, made his way down it, ears perked for further noises.  As he walked down the hallway torches spluttered to life, illuminating the curving passageway.  In the shadows ahead, he began to make out a form lumped on the floor.  Draco moved toward it, slowing a little, drawing his wand out of his pocket.  What was it?  It looked like a huge dog, or maybe a pony.  But when he drew closer, he realized that the shape was human, draped with a cloak and twisted into a strange position.  Breathing a little unsteadily, he reached out with a pale hand and turned the figure over, exposing a colorless face he didn't recognize.  It belonged to brown-haired boy who looked to be a few years younger than Draco. 

And who didn't seem to be breathing. 

Gasping, Draco scrambled back, clutching his wand, looking around wildly for whatever had attacked the boy sprawled on the floor in front of him.  His head spun, and he was struck by a sudden wave of nausea.  Suddenly, a voice rang out from the darkness further down the corridor, and another boy emerged, white-faced and wearing a Ravenclaw uniform.  Draco didn't recognize him, either.  "What have you done, Malfoy?  You- you attacked Sebastian!  Death Eater!"                                        

"No!  No, I found him like this-"

"Help!" shrieked the boy, backing away from Draco and raising his wand with a shaking hand, pointing it at the silver-haired boy kneeling in front of him. 

Draco's body, well conditioned by years in his father's house, instinctively acted to defend itself.  Without thinking, Draco pointed his own wand at the terrified boy, snapping out a mild memory charm and a disorienting hex in rapid succession.  Confused, the boy staggered down the corridor in the direction from which he had come, his eyes unfocused.  Trembling, Draco backed away from the body on the floor.  The charms he had leveled at the boy wouldn't last long, he knew.  But- what should he do?  When the memory charm wore off the boy would scream Hogwarts down, accusing Draco of murdering the body in the corridor.  And knowing who his father was, nobody would doubt Draco's guilt.  He'd be getting up close and personal with a Dementor before the ink was dry on the parchment informing his father that he had been arrested.       

He… he had to leave. 

Leave.  Right away, before anyone connected him with this.  He could pack his things and be long gone tonight.  He had money stashed all over Europe- the Malfoys believed in being prepared, and Draco's trust fund had been tucked into untraceable accounts accessible only by him as soon as he turned fifteen.  He could go to France.  He had a Portkey to his late grandmother's house.  He had inherited it upon her death, and although he had never been there he had frequently heard her complain about its isolation and emptiness.  Perfect.  There was no need to panic.  He could owl his father from France, come up with some convincing lies to spread around, and return when they discovered who had actually killed the poor bastard in the hall. 

His heart rate began to return to normal.  Smoothing back his hair, Draco dusted off his robes and strode briskly toward the dungeons, thinking about what he'd need to pack.  As his confidence returned, his mind wandered to the long weeks ahead.  It would be so boring, all alone in an empty manor house in the French countryside.  Maybe… maybe he could risk a little companionship….

*****

Ginny was sitting on her bed in the empty dorm room, working on some homework and enjoying the silence.  Letty had dropped her sweetness and light act as soon as she had stepped back into the common room, looking rumpled and self-satisfied.  "Would you mind too terribly staying out of the way when I'm with my boyfriend, Ginny, dear?  Why don't you go pester your brother and his friends?  I'm sure they wouldn't mind playing with you.  Well, then again, maybe they would…."  Ginny knew the truth of this only too well, and was only grateful that Ron, Hermione, and Harry hadn't been there to overhear Letty's spiteful little speech.  They would felt obliged to comfort her, and she was getting very tired of being the object of their pity. 

But rather than respond, Ginny had simply sighed, gathered up her parchment and quill, and headed upstairs.  Letty was an utter cow, but it never helped to fight with her.  A sudden tapping at the dormitory window startled her, and she moved to open it.  A large, handsome owl flapped in, dropping a note on Letty's bed.  The wax sealing it shut was stamped with a distinctive "M".  Hooting at her quietly, the owl flapped out again, spiraling away into the night.  Ginny pulled the window shut again, her eyes on the note. 

The Weasley blood in her, the same blood that pumped through the veins of Fred and George Weasley, the most inventive pranksters Hogwarts had ever seen, practically begged her to open it.  Trembling, her hand reached toward it.  After all, if it was nothing, she could just seal it shut again with a wave of her wand.  Almost without realizing it, she broke the seal on the letter and unfolded it.

Letty-

Meet me in the astronomy tower in twenty minutes.  Wear a hood- we're going on a trip.

-D. M.

It was nothing.  Sighing, Ginny reached for her wand, waving it over the letter, repairing the seal.  But for some reason, her eyes fell on the cloak hanging off the post of Letty's bed.  The deep hood would easily cover her entire face.  Draco would never know the difference- she could tell him anything.  If she pretended to be Letty she could, say, break it off with him, in a really, really, really humiliating way.  Blame it on his, er, physical inadequacies….           

Did she dare? 

The girl Ginny Weasley should have been- the beloved, happy only daughter of a huge family, capable and bright and strong- she would have dared.  The girl she was before Harry Potter, before Tom Riddle, would have done it in a heartbeat.  It was an opportunity for revenge- one she knew she could get away with.  Taking a deep breath, Ginny grabbed the cloak off of Letty's bedpost, pulling it on and dragging the hood up over her bright hair. 

TBC