A/N: Oh my goodness, it sure has been a while. As you've probably noticed, I've changed the summary of the story. Apologies in advance if this has confused you. Please review.
Disclaimer: Rowling's.
Chapter Three
It was ridiculous really, how much work a maid had to do in one day, and how little credit she received for it, thought Ginny as she pushed her cart into the cleaning supplies room at the end of the day. She had started to learn a little more French, but it didn't seem quite necessary when the only kind of words that the customers uttered were either swears or commands. Obviously the only response to either was a polite (yet tart), `oui, Madame'.
In any case, it had been a week since she'd arrived in France, and Ginny was beginning to feel the effects of homesickness. Although outside of working hours she spent most of her time immersed in the French manual Joey had given her, it didn't make up for the numbing ache she felt whenever she thought of her family- and Harry especially.
---
"Gin." Harry took her glass and set it on the table. "Ginny."
Ginny snapped out of her thoughts and looked up at him. "I'm fine, just let me finish the glass."
"Gin," he said more firmly.
"What?" she exclaimed and pulled the glass towards her. Harry shook his head.
"I know you're not feeling the greatest, but I don't want you to over-consume and regret it in the morning."
Ginny fixed him with her most serious look. "Harry, it's orange juice."
----
"Snap out of it, girl," Ginny scolded herself as she went back to her room, changed into a skirt and blouse and headed downstairs to the café. "I'll have a frappa-jappa chocolate surprise," she told the lady at the counter and went to sit at a table with her drink. She had just pulled out the manual and a pen when an owl swooped over her head and dropped a thin envelope into Ginny's hand.
Eagerly, she opened it:
Dear Mademoiselle Weasley:
I am sorry Mr. Xavier was unable to deliver this to you in person, but he is currently at a press conference in Mexico.
Unfortunately, we're running short of maintenance staff, and wondered if you would be willing to work mornings in
the lobby and afternoons as a hotel maid. This would only require you to maintain the cleanliness of the second half of
the rooms you habitually clean. Of course, your salary will see improvements within reason, to account for the work.
Assuming you accept this business proposition, you will report to the lobby tomorrow morning.
Regards,
Alex Darot, Business Secretary
- - -
Draco was taking a leisurely stroll outside after he had finished making a few purchases. Smirking to himself, he pulled his new sunglasses out of their case and put them on. He stole a glance over his left shoulder and then his right, checking for any casual bystanders. Seeing no one, he stealthily crept along the street, looking for a window. When he found a particularly reflective one (it was hard to believe it wasn't a mirror, really), he stopped and took a deep breath.
"Looking hot, Malfoy," he muttered to himself, as he strode back and forth in front of the window, observing himself. Finding a satisfactory position, he stood up tall and concentrated on his reflection.
Left eyebrow raised? Not bad. Right eyebrow? That was better. What if he smiled? Teeth. . . not bad, not bad. No teeth? Ah, that worked as well, he observed. Smirk? Of course, why had he even questioned that one? He pushed his hair back and adjusted the new leather jacket that hung casually over his shoulders. Draco looked over both shoulders again before turning back to the mirror to continue.
- - -
Ginny had just finished writing a note to her co-worker at the lobby when she looked up and saw a slender male figure in a leather jacket making faces at the window. Casually, she moved over and realized that they were admiring themselves and experimenting with eyebrows. What a nut, she thought and was just about to pick up the muggle telephone the hotel kept in use when she saw the man in the window smirk.
Malfoy, she thought with amusement and burst out in laughter right as the phone rang. Stifling giggles, she grinned and picked up the phone.
"Hello, I was wondering if you could connect me to Ginny Weasley."
"Speaking," she said absently as she doodled on a piece of paper.
"Ginny? Is that you?"
Raising her eyebrow she asked, "who wants to know?" Laughter erupted from the other line.
"Gin, it's me, Harry!"
Ginny almost melted onto the floor, but instead settled on squealing in excitement. "Harry!"
- - -
Draco walked inside the lobby, sunglasses and leather jacket in tact, just in time to hear a familiar voice shriek "Harry!" He flipped his shades onto the top of his head and walked to the reception desk. Weasley. Well, well, well, this might work well after all.
Infamous smirk in place, Draco leaned on the desk in front of her and tapped his fingers on the desk. "Excuse me," he said in his most obnoxious voice.
Ginny glanced at Draco and decided to ignore him. "Ohh, I know sweetie, I dream about you every night too," Ginny cooed purposefully. "My little chocolate sweetcakes honey bunny lover-"
Malfoy gulped and walked off in disgust to talk to another receptionist, and Ginny smiled. "Gin? What're you saying?" Harry asked in bewilderment.
"Sorry love, had to get rid of… a customer." She gulped. "Bloody customers… um, what were you saying, Harry dear?"
- - -
Dear Mother, Draco wrote. Everything is fine. The hotel is up to Malfoy standards, no worries there. I've done a spot of shopping, gotten myself some brilliant bonuses. Meanwhile, I haven't spoken to anyone of significance that I recognize from home, except for… Draco paused and scribbled over the last part of the sentence. Not much is new here, I'm just giving myself a tad bit of rest and fun before I get into the actual business I came here for. Hope all is well.
Your Son,
Draco
Draco sealed the envelope and ventured downstairs to mail it. Walking up to the desk, he pushed his letter forward. The lobbyist looked at him strangely. "Owl post," Draco said.
The lady looked at him with a fixed solemn expression. "The owlery is down the hall, sir."
Draco scowled. "I'm aware of that. It smells like something I'd rather not describe. Now," he said, taking a few coins out of his pocket and sliding them on the desk towards the lobbyist. "I suppose you wouldn't mind mailing it for me."
The woman looked at the coins. "We don't accept bribes," she said stubbornly. "Now, if you would kindly take your money and letter back, the owlery is just down the-"
Draco leaned forward menacingly. "Do you know," he said calmly, "who I am?" She shook her head. "I am," he said, annunciating every word, "Dra-co Mal-foy." The lobbyist didn't budge. "Are you unfamiliar with the Malfoy name?"
"No sir."
"Well then," he said cheekily, leaning forward even more, "you would be most kind to consider how I could refresh your memory of our prestige, if you fail to comply in regards to my request."
"Is that a threat?" The lady's hand was on her wand.
"Of course not," he said with a smirk. "I would just expect that you would show a bit more respect towards such a valued customer." The lobbyist reluctantly took the money and envelope.
"Yes sir."
"Lovely!" he exclaimed, dusting off his jacket and turning around. "Oh," he said, turning to face the lobbyist once more. "I was hoping there was an update on my request for extra room service?"
The woman looked down at her papers and shuffled them for a few seconds before looking back up. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy. The maid services have been informed."
"Excellent!" said Draco cheerily. "And?"
"And," she said, making a mark in her book, "Miss Weasley should be providing her services at about… oh err…" She looked at the clock. "Right now, I suppose."
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