until then?"
"Speccy Git is the reason why you' re not spending that time in an interrogation cell!"
"I am not following Potter around like some besotted fan, for six weeks," he hissed.
Ginny glared back. "I have it on good authority that Harry wouldn't care for that either!"
He gave her a look that chilled her bones. "I' ve brought you Bellatrix Lestrange. You know what I want in return," he said, through gritted teeth.
"Yes, but until you' re what Hermione wants, you can stew in the mess that you left. I know why you're back, Malfoy, but how are you back?"
To his credit, he seemed to understand what she was asking. The anger left him. At that moment, he looked like nothing more than a man who was tired, who was finished and who wanted to rest. "I' m ready now. It took me a while, but I' m ready and more importantly, I'm able," he explained. "I need to know if she is too."
Ginny gave him a look that was almost admiring. His honesty surprised her. As did that other signature trait of his. "Your arrogance is staggering."
He gave her an impatient glance in return. "It's not arrogance. It's fate."
He wasn' t being romantic about the situation. Ginny didn' t doubt that he could if he wanted to. That old cunning was still there. Rather, he was just sure. Sure of where his place was now and what he wanted. He had come back to see if Hermione could be just as sure.
A part of her wished Harry would be more like that.
Actually, no. She didn't wish that at all. Draco Malfoy was a whole other type of complicated no female should ever have to put up with. No, she would take her heroes steadfast and dependable, if a little unsure about matters of the heart.
Of all the people in the world she could have fallen for, trust Malfoy to be the one to catch Hermione's discerning fancy. The woman thrived on complicated.
"What are you doing up at his hour, anyway?" he asked her.
The turn in conversation was decisive. Ginny was actually glad for it.
"Can' t sleep. Harry' s knackered. I didn' t want to wake him up by tossing about in bed."
"And does Mama Weasley know you two" he searched for a phrase, smirking a little when he apparently found one, "share blankets?"
She scowled at him. The darkness hid most of her blush. He was once again dangling her sore point in front of her. "Oh, piss off. I'm twenty-two."
"In other words, no, she doesn't."
Ginny sighed. There was no way she was going back to sleep now.
Malfoy looked just as awake. She carried her now empty coffee cup back to the kitchen and wasn't surprised when Draco followed her. Idly, Ginny wondered how much solitude he had had to endure in the time he'd been away. There had been hardships, she could see that.
He sat, perched on the edge of the kitchen counter, staring at the rain splattered windows. His hair hung halfway down his back. Some of it had fallen over his face to partially cover one eye.
Ginny wondered if he was thinking about Hermione.
On a whim, she also wondered if Hermione happened to be awake as well, thinking about Malfoy.
"How about a haircut?" Ginny asked him, after a moment's pondering.
That caught him completely off guard. "What?" he blinked.
"How about I give you a haircut? I' m a fair hand with a scissors and no offence, but you have no idea how much you look like your, um, father right now."
The point was that this was not necessarily a good thing if one wanted to convince the Ministry of one's good intentions.
He was eighteen again for a moment, when he absently touched his long hair and stared back at her, as if his appearance could never have possible played a part in his grand plans of winning back Hermione's affections.
This was either extreme modesty or extreme conceit at work. "Do you think so?"
"It was a little unsettling seeing you appear in the kitchen just now," said Ginny, by way of reply.
She was digging through the numerous drawers in the counter, finally holding aloft a pair of large kitchen scissors. Not the best to cut hair with, but oh well. It wasn' t like he'd be able to make it to the hairdressers' anytime soon.
"Here we go, then," said Ginny. She kicked out a chair for him.
Suddenly, Malfoy didn't look so sure. He was watching the scissors with