The Search for Delicious

A/N: My first Harry Potter fanfiction. Please be nice.

Disclaimer: Many characters and places in this work of fanfiction belong to the goddess J.K. Rowling. Also, title belongs to Natalie Babbitt, who wrote a lovely children’s book by the same name. ;) Cheers.

The Search for Delicious

Sunlight filtered through the blinds, hitting the bed in bright yellow stripes. The sleeping man on the bed stirred, the sheets tangled around his waist following him. He cracked one eye open and a beam of sunlight assaulted his eye with a hazardous glow. He groaned and shut his eye quickly, bringing up a hand to rub at his eyes. He turned over, back facing the window and tried opening them again, more slowly this time.

That’s when the smell came rising over the sheets and attacked his nose with a brute force. It was the smell of her. Cinnamon lingered on the sheets. Along with the cinnamon lingered the smell of sex and lust. He closed his eyes again and rubbed his temples before opening them again, looking over his shoulder. The bed was empty; the sheets only slightly rumpled to show that she had even been on that side of his bed.

A small smile graced his lips, remembering the woman who’d shared his bed the night before. She was perfect in any way that he could have ever imagined. Her skin had been soft and silky, tasting of honey, melding sweetly with his. Her body had been a curved plane of desire, creamy and sultry. Her breasts had been heavenly, fitting in his large hands perfectly. Her pink nipples sensitive and sweet, filling his mouth with her taste. Then, he’d fit her perfectly.

Just thinking of the night before made him hard. But he was lying in bed alone, with only her smell to let him know that it hadn’t just been a dream. He should have asked her for her name. He should have gotten to know her better. He should have done so many things differently. But, he’d been to smashed to think of anything but his thirsting libido. And she’d seemed only willing to comply.

He didn’t even remember her face, only her pink petals of lips, and the sprinkling of cinnamon across her cheeks. He rubbed at his eyes again groaning loudly. How could he let himself not find out who she was?

Looking over to his bedside table, the flashing red numbers of his lock read a hazy 8:30. “Shit,” he hissed under his breath, jumping out of the bed. The sheets had decided to follow him off the bed and wrapped themselves around his legs. He tripped in his haste and found himself lying face down on the plush, white carpet.

About three inches from his head there was a small pair of white panties. They were the delicate white panties the woman had been wearing the night before. They were trimmed in a thin black lace, sexy and innocent all at the same time.

He picked up the panties and brought them closer to his face. Her smell permeated the air even more thoroughly. He dropped them and heaved himself off the floor, untangling the sheets from his legs as he made his way to the bathroom, where he turned on the water.

He was in need of a nice, long, cold shower before work.

--------------------------------------------

Draco Malfoy straightened his tie and tried to ignore the pounding headache that was thumping a painful rhythm through his skull – aftereffects of his irresponsible drinking.

“Good Morning, Mr. Malfoy,” His secretary, Mrs. Meriwether, greeted as he passed her on the way to his office.

He winced and waved his hand. “And you.”

“You have messages!” she called after him as he walked into his office.

“Send them in later,” he said before shutting the door. He hit the lights and dimmed them. He walked around his desk and sat down in his luxurious leather chair. Opening one of the doors on his desk, he pulled out an orange juice and twisted the cap off, taking a slow sip.

“Mr. Malfoy,” Mrs. Meriwether’s voice floated in the room from the speaker sitting on his desk. Draco tried to ignore her. “Mr. Malfoy,” she said, louder this time. “There’s a young lady that’d like to speak to you.”

“What does this young lady want to speak to me about?” he asked, remembering the woman from the night before again. Surely she would know who he was. She wasn’t nearly as smashed as he had been.

“Uhm…” Mrs. Meriwether’s end of the line went silent for a moment. Draco set down his bottle of orange juice and waited. “This young lady would like to speak to you about the new store complex.”

“I see,” said Draco, hiding his disappointment. “Go ahead and send her in then.” He pulled open a drawer and pulled out a bottle of serum. He looked to the back label to see how much he should take, then raised his eyebrows and just pulled off the cap, lifting it to his mouth and draining a bit.

The door opened just as he was putting the cap back on the bottle and settling it in his desk. A small woman with bright hair stepped in the doorway, clutching a manila folder to her chest.

“What can I help you with?” Draco asked tiredly.

“Well, Mr. Malfoy,” she said sharply, causing a wave of pain to sweep through his head. “You could help our your environment and nearly-extinct magical beasts by relocating your complex. You are harming our environment and the very rare creatures that are very important to the whole magical community.”

“Please,” Draco interrupted, waving his hand to stop her. “What did you say your name was again?”

She looked at him. “I didn’t give you my name,” she said curtly.

Another wave of pain washed over him. “Then why don’t you tell me?”

“Virginia Weasley,” she said. “But that’s beside the point. What we really need to focus on here is how your complex is going to be affecting the magical community!”

“Well,” Draco said slowly. “I was under the impression that it was going to help to bring together the magical community by providing another place for the witches and wizards to shop; to give them somewhere else to go, besides Diagon Alley. Somewhere more modern.”

Ginny Weasley’s right eye twitched. “But you’re destroying a magical beast ecosystem.”

“Where else am I supposed to build this complex? I can’t very well build it right in the middle of Muggle London like Diagon Alley. That would cost billions of galleons,” said Draco. “There’d be no way of concealing it exclusively from Muggles either.”

“I’ve brought a map of England, and have marked places that wouldn’t be a danger to the environment,” she said, starting to reach into her manila folder, bringing out a large map. She unfolded the monstrosity awkwardly; a corner flew up and hit her on the forehead.

Draco smirked. “Having trouble?”

“No,” she said shortly. She finished unfolding it and laid it out on his desk. He watched her, amused. “Now, I’ve marked other suitable places in red.”

Draco picked up his bottle of orange juice and took another sip before looking over the map. He raised his eyebrows when he saw all the places she had marked in red. “While this is nice of you…Miss….”

“Weasley,” she prompted.

“We can’t use any of these places,” he said bluntly. “There in the middle of nowhere.”

Ginny glared at him. “Well, if you want the complex to be away from Muggles…”

“We’ve already found a suitable place away from Muggles.” He put down his juice and reached for the map, picking it up and beginning to fold it. He finished and handed it to her. “Goodbye.”

She snatched the map from him. “This won’t be the last you’ll hear from me,” she fumed. “I’ll be back. You’ll regret not listening to me now.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Make all the threats you like, but I’ve already gotten approval on this project from the Ministry and anyone else that matters. Now, Weasley, while I’m sure your bourgeois opinion matters in some places, this isn’t one of them.” He got up from his chair and walked around the desk and to the office door. He opened it for her. “Now, goodbye.”

Stalking out of the office, she called behind her, “I’m going to fight you all the way on this.”

“You can try your best,” he said then shut the door with a loud click.

-------------------------------------

“’Lo, Malfoy,” said Blaise Zabini as Draco stepped into the break room. “Coffee?” he held up the half-full coffee pot.

“No,” he said waving his hand. “We have any more orange juice?”

“Yea—Whoa. What is that in your pocket, Malfoy?” Blaise gave him an odd look. “Since when did you start carrying women’s…undergarments in your pockets?”

Draco pulled the panties out of his pocket.

Blaise raised his dark eyebrows. “And pretty undergarments at that.”

“They aren’t mine.”

Blaise chuckled. “Well, I figured that much. So, why are you carrying them around?”

Draco frowned. “This is the bit you’ll probably find odd.”

“And I don’t already?”

“Point. But, I don’t know who they belong to.” He brought them up and let them dangle off his finger. “Nice though, aren’t they?”

“Wait, wait,” said Blaise. He pulled out a chair and motioned for Draco sit down as well. “How did you come across this lovely pair of panties – and not know who they belonged to?”

“I went to a bar last night, got totally smashed, had wonderful sex with the most perfect woman alive, and she left before I woke up, leaving only her panties,” said Draco monotonously.

Blaise blinked. “And you don’t know who this perfect woman is?”

Draco grinned. “Sad isn’t it? I shall forever be taunted by a pair of nameless panties.”

“How can you not know who they belong to?” asked Blaise. “I don’t understand.”

Shrugging, Draco said. “Well, I’d never met her before, and when I did meet her, it was in a dark bar, and I was smashed. Then, back at my place, the lights were off, and…oh…did I mention that I was smashed? Because I was quite smashed.”

“Why were you smashed?”

“Sophie.”

Blaise frowned. “Did she dump you? I didn’t think you even liked her that much.”

“Oh,” said Draco. “I didn’t, but she said that she didn’t like my ties. I pride myself on my nice ties.” Draco patted the nice blue patterned one he was wearing. “They are nice, aren’t they?”

Blaise nodded. “Definitely. Don’t know what was wrong with that woman. You have very nice ties.” He took a drink of his coffee. “So, what are you going to do about these panties?”

“Well,” said Draco, thoughtfully. “I’d like to find out who they belong to.”

“That sounds like a reasonable thing to want to do.”

“I have no idea where to start. Should I go back to the bar? I don’t even know if that’s where she likes to go. She might have only gone that night to try it out.” Draco said, putting the panties back in his pocket. “And it’s not like I can go around carrying the panties asking every woman in the club if they belong to her or not.”

“This is true,” said Blaise. “But, maybe she’d go back because she’d want to see you.”

Draco rubbed his hand over his face. “You would think that. But if she had really wanted to get to know me better, or see me again, then don’t you think she would have stayed this morning? She didn’t have to leave so early.”

“Maybe she wants to give you a chase,” said Blaise. “Women are sharky like that. They like to give you a taste and then run off and make you chase them for it. Makes you wonder why you put up with them in the first place.”

“I think that if she wanted to give me a chase she would have left me more than a pair of panties.”

“And she might have left those by accident,” added Blaise.

“You aren’t helping, Zabini,” Draco said severely.

Blaise held up his hands. “Sorry. But, maybe she’s counting on you to at least remember what she looks like.”

Draco looked at him.

“Okay, maybe not. You were that smashed?” Draco nodded. “Because of what Sophie said about your ties?” Draco nodded again. “Okay,” Blaise said slowly. “Well, if you were really that smashed, how do you even know she was perfect? How do you even know the sex was all that great?”

Draco gave him another look. “I know. Oh, I know.”

Blaise widened his eyes. “It was that good?”

“That good. I want this woman.” Draco closed his eyes. “Badly.”

“Wow,” said Blaise. “I’d like to meet this woman.”

“We’re going to find her,” Draco said firmly.

“We?” echoed Blaise. “This is your deal, mate.”

“Yes, but you’re going to help me,” said Draco.

“And why am I going to help you?” asked Blaise.

“Because, you’re my partner. And because you know that you want to.” Blaise looked at him. “Don’t you want the satisfaction of knowing that you found such a…mysterious woman?”

“Not particularly,” Blaise said simply.

“You’re going to help me.”

“Yeah, I am. Gods help me.” Blaise put his face in his hands and Draco smirked at him. Then Blaise looked up and grinned. “So, you should treat me to lunch.”

Draco laughed. “Okay, lunch.”

“And tell me, who was that making all that noise in you office this morning?” asked Blaise curiously.

“Weasley.”

Blaise frowned. “Why would that git come to your office?”

“No, no, not the male Weasley,” Draco corrected. “The female Weasley.”

“Oooh,” said Blaise. “Well, what did she want with you?”

“She was in some sort of fuss about where we’re building the complex,” said Draco, shaking his head. “Said something about near-extinct magical beasts and ecosystems. I don’t know. She seemed loopy to me. Proposed we moved the complex to these completely remote places.”

Blaise looked incredulous. “Are you serious?” When Draco nodded, he said, “Who cares about that? Doesn’t she know that no one cares anymore?”

“I don’t know. All I can say is that she’s crazy.”

--------------------------------------------

“This is an outrage!” Ginny exclaimed, stalking her apartment furiously, Colin undertow. “I can’t believe that—that bastard didn’t even listen to a word I said! He didn’t even care about the map!” She fumed. “No one cares about the environment anymore! They don’t care at all if all of the magical creatures just upped and disappeared. What is wrong with society, Colin? What is wrong with it?” she demanded, pounding her fist on the kitchen counter to punctuate each word.

“Ginny, Ginny, just sit and try to calm down, would you?” said Colin gently.

“No! I will not sit down! And I will not calm down!” Ginny shouted. “Where on Earth does that pompous ass get off treating me like that?

“Well,” said Colin, slowly. “He does have this certain Malfoy mentality.”

“Yeah, well he needs to get over himself and his big, fat ego.”

“Ginny, you sound like you’re back on the playground. You need to take a breather. Maybe you should go paint? Painting always makes you nice and calm,” Colin said soothingly. “I’ll even make you some of that green tea like you like. I won’t put any sugar in it either this time, promise!”

“Nice…Malfoy…butcher knife…blood,” Ginny muttered, walking to the sunroom with jerky movements. “It’ll be a hell of a painting!” she laughed loudly.

Colin blinked and moved to shut the door to the sunroom and scurried off to the kitchen to go make her tea, taking special care to put in some sedative serum.

--------------------------------------------

Draco walked into his apartment and dropped his briefcase on the floor next to the front door, then proceeded to the living room where he collapsed on the sofa. He pulled off his robes and sat in his business suit, staring at the wall.

This was the first time in years that he’d ever felt compelled to chase a woman. Before, he hadn’t had to worry about it; the women would come to him. But now, there was this mysterious woman, and he knew, he just knew that she wasn’t just going to come to him. He was going to have to find her.

He reached for his robes and pulled his wand out of them, flicking it, causing a beer to float out of the kitchen and into his waiting hand. He popped off the top and took a long sip of the amber liquid.

Closing his eyes, he imagined the creamy, warm skin of the woman that had shared his bed the night before. He thought of her sultry cinnamon smell. He thought of her voluptuous curves.

Then he thought of how he might never see her again.

And he drained the rest of his beer.

A/N: Wow, thanks for all the positive feedback. Sorry it took so long for me to update. :) Cheers.

Disclaimer: Everyone wishes they could own Draco and the wonderful Harry Potter series, and they could, if their name was J. K. Rowling. It just so happens that I am not at all J.K. Rowling. The title of the story belongs to Natalie Babbit.

THE SEARCH FOR DELICIOUS

Chapter Two: Spinning for the Answer.

By Quixotism

Ginny was sitting at her kitchen table with a cup of herbal tea steaming in front of her. Her head was bent, tendrils of hair springing out of the bun on top of her head sporadically. She was studying piles of paper in front of her, biting at the end of a quill in her mouth.

Colin traipsed into her kitchen and set down a bag of groceries on the counter top. “What’s up, Gin?” he said, looking over at her. “Work?”

Ginny rubbed a hand over her face. “Not really.” She set down her quill and took a sip of her tea. “I’m working on looking for some legal clause that would prevent Malfoy from building his complex on that land.”

Colin frowned. “Still? I mean, even if you find something, there’s no guarantee that you could stop him. He has a lot of pull with the Ministry.”

“It doesn’t matter. The Ministry shouldn’t be bending the rules for anyone,” Ginny said with a glare. “Besides, there’s got to be something that would prevent him from building that stupid complex. I don’t even see the big deal about it. I mean, we’ve got Diagon Alley, do we really need somewhere else?”

Colin looked at her. “Have you been to Diagon Alley? It seems that the wizarding population has jumped as of late. It’s crowded beyond belief.”

Ginny averted her eyes and took another sip of her tea. “They could at least build it somewhere it belonged…” she muttered into her cup.

“Where does a magical community complex really belong, Gin?”

Ginny glared at him. “In the places I marked for him on the map!”

“Wouldn’t there be magical creatures living in those areas too?” Colin questioned.

“Not as many!”

“Yeah,” said Colin dubiously. “I think you just want a reason to go up to Malfoy’s office and pick a fight with him.”

Ginny shot him an incredeculous look. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

Colin smirked triumphantly. “My sources say I’m right.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “And what sources would these be? The little voices in your head?”

Colin looked away. “Well… you know. You do keep your journal in a rather…non-private place. How am I, as a guy, supposed to resist the temptation of reading it from time to time?”

Ginny’s eyes widened, then she blinked, slowly. Her face started turning red as she stared at Colin, and her quill snapped in her hand. “Uh oh,” said Colin nervously, beginning to back up to the door. “Actually… I only read like…one page…”

“CREEVEY! OUT! OUT!”

Her large tea mug hit the door beside his face, splashing hot tea all over him.

“Ow, ow, okay,” Colin mumbled, darting out the door.

Ginny heaved a sigh and flopped back down in her chair, and then resumed looking over her papers.

--------------------------------

A knock sounded on Draco’s door and was opened by Blaise, who closed it behind him quietly. Blaise treaded lightly across the thick carpeting while Draco watched him curiously.

Blaise sat down in one of the leather chairs in front of Draco’s desk.

Draco leaned back in his chair and looked at him expectantly. “Yes?”

“What bar was it that you got smashed in?” asked Blaise casually, studying a painting on the wall behind Draco.

Draco creased his eyebrows momentarily. “It was The Lounge, I think.”

Blaise nodded. “I thought it might be.”

“What are you getting at, Zabini?” Draco said darkly, eyes narrowing.

Blaise smirked. “You’d like to know, wouldn’t you?”

Draco smirked right back at him. “And you’d like to keep your job, wouldn’t you?”

Blaise raised an eyebrow. “Touché.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on Draco’s desk. “What I know is: the owner.”

Draco scowled, miffed at the lack of information Blaise had. “So?”

“He cards everyone that goes in there,” Blaise said, raising his eyebrows suggestively.

“Continue,” prompted Draco.

Blaise grinned widely. “And he keeps a list.”

“Do you think it’s time for your raise?”

-------------------------------

Ginny stomped into her kitchen and looked at Colin, who was sitting at the table reading The Daily Prophet. “Didn’t I tell you to leave not long ago?” she demanded, putting her hands on her hips.

Colin looked up from the paper. “Huh? Oh yeah. But I came back.”

Nodding, Ginny walked over to the refrigerator and peered inside, moving a few things around before shutting the door again. “Well,” she said, coming to sit at the table beside Colin. “Since you’re here and all, do you want to make us some lunch?”

Colin gave her a dour look that told her exactly what he thought of that idea. Ginny stuck out her bottom lip and blinked her eyes at him. “Please, Colin? Pretty please with sugar on top? You’re really the best cook you know, and one of your lovely lunches is exactly what my stomach needs right about this time of day.”

Groaning, Colin got out of his chair and got things he needed out of the refrigerator and pantry. “You owe me,” he said petulantly. “I’ve made you lunch everyday this week.”

“Because you love me,” Ginny told him, picking up his discarded newspaper. “Urg,” she said, upon seeing the front page. “Why can’t Malfoy keep his ugly face off the front of my newspaper.”

“That’s not your newspaper, Gin,” said Colin. “It’s mine. And even saying that it’s mine isn’t true, because I don’t own the Prophet, I just own that issue.”

“Don’t get technical with me, Colin.”

“Do you want lunch?”

“Sorry,” Ginny said, looking back down the newspaper, glaring at Draco’s smirking face. She folded it, making sure to crease Draco’s face, smiling triumphantly when the picture Draco looked out at her angrily.

-----------------------

“Okay,” said Blaise, stepping into Draco’s office, list in hand. “I got the list of all the women that were in the bar.” He walked up to Draco’s desk and set it down in front of him.

Draco picked it up, looking to Blaise gratefully. “Thank you.” His eyes scanned the names on the list, leading him to frown and have his eyebrows knit together closely. “She couldn’t have been any of these women,” he said, still scanning it. “Pansy? Definitely wasn’t her, I would have noticed. Wouldn’t have even walked out with her. Lavender Brown? She’s too tall. Millicent? Too thick.” He set the list down. “Are you sure that this is the list from the right night?”

Blaise picked up the list. “The night before last, right?” Draco nodded. “Then yeah, it’s the right list. Here, let’s go over some of the other women on the list.” He sat down in one of Draco’s leather chairs, and leaned forward, resting his elbows on Draco’s desk. “Alright, there’s Hannah Abbott.”

“Eh, she’s too…round.”

“Cho Chang?”

“Too sharp.”

Blaise lifted his eyebrows and continued on. “Both of the Patil sisters.”

“No.”

“Leena Dotty,” said Blaise. “Wasn’t she a year under us? Hufflepuff?”

Draco nodded. “Yeah. But, it wasn’t her. She’s too dark.” They went on with the list for another five minutes, Draco saying no to every name that Blaise had.

“What about Ginny Wealsey?” Blaise asked after awhile.

Draco blinked. “Did I not tell you about what happened in my office yesterday? She hates me. Besides, she’s a Weasley. I wouldn’t sleep with a Weasley even if I was smashed.”

Blaise sighed. “Alright then. Well, there’s only one more name left.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“Tracey Davis,” said Blaise, looking up at Draco expectantly. If this wasn’t the one, then he was thinking that maybe Draco had hallucinated the whole experience. As to where the panties came from, he didn’t even want to think about it.

“Hmmm,” murmured Draco, tapping a finger on his desk. “Might have been her. She was in our house, wasn’t she?”

“Yes,” said Blaise, thanking Merlin. “She was friends with Daphne Greengrass. They were a quiet lot. I think she had brown hair… I think she might have even been a reserve Chaser at one point.”

“It must be her,” Draco said slowly. “There’s no one else on the list that it could be. And I don’t see any reason that it couldn’t have been her.”

Blaise let out a sigh of relief. “Do you want me to contact her for you?”

Draco looked at him sharply. “No, certainly not.” He got up from his desk and paced around the room. “This is something that must be approached carefully. After all, she was the most incredible…”

“Yes, yes, thank you,” Blaise said quickly. “I think I may have heard about this more times than necessary.”

Draco smirked at him. “You’re just jealous.”

“Or disgusted at how obsessed you are with this,” Blaise shot back at him.

“I am most certainly not obsessed with this,” Draco said indignantly, glaring over at Blaise.

“Right, well, while you’re figuring this out, I’m going to go see if I can get Nott’s secretary to go to lunch with me,” Blaise said, getting up and heading towards the door. “Good luck.”

---------------------------

Ginny came out of her studio and found Colin in the kitchen, still working on lunch. “Colin?” she said, coming up behind him.

“Huh?” he said, stirring the contents of a small pot with a wooden spoon, not even turning to look at her.

“Am I pretty?” she asked, fidgeting.

“You aren’t ugly,” Colin said, after some time. “I think you’re more along the lines of cute.”

Ginny made a face and began to walk around the kitchen in circles, very small circles. “Would you marry me?” she asked, feeling herself begin to get dizzy.

At that question, Colin turned from the pot to stare at her. “What?” He was holding the spoon out and tomato sauce was dripping from it onto the kitchen floor.

“Relax, you’re making a mess,” said Ginny, her brains starting to feel like they were slipping around in her head. “Besides, it’s only a hypothetical question.”

Colin tilted his head, watching her. “Uhm…” he stalled, turning back to his sauce. “You know, you should stop spinning. You’re going to have a headache.”

“No, I’m not,” Ginny said, stopping anyways. She felt like she was going to fall over. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Colin shrugged. “I wouldn’t marry you.”

Ginny stopped feeling dizzy and looked up at him. “Why not?” she asked, walking back towards him. “Is there something wrong with me?” Wait, no, she was still dizzy. She ran into the counter, hitting her elbow, hard. “Ow,” she muttered, rubbing her injured elbow tenderly.

Colin turned off the stove and rolled his eyes. “What’s with the random questions?”

“Nothing,” said Ginny, slowly. “Just wondering.”

“Do you think I believe that?”

“No,” said Ginny. “But, you’re going to pretend you do because you don’t want to hear my explanation.”

Colin laughed. “If you know me so well, then why did you even bother asking me any questions?”

“You’re no fun,” Ginny said, looking at him sullenly.

“You love me anyways.”

Ginny muttered under her breath and shuffled out of the kitchen, plopping herself on a couch in the living room. “Do you think I should go back to Malfoy’s tomorrow?” she yelled, knowing Colin could hear her from the kitchen.

“Why do you need to go back?” Colin asked, poking his head through the door. He looked at her. “You’re pale.”

“I know. And I want to go back because he shouldn’t be building his stupid complex on that land! I need to stop him before he gets started,” Ginny said, picking at loose thread on the couch.

“Did you have too much sugar?” Colin asked, walking back into the kitchen. “Are you sure that’s the only reason you want to go back?” he teased.

“Shut up,” Ginny said grumpily. “I still haven’t forgiven you for reading my journal, stupid prat. You’re worse than my brothers.”

“Ow, you’ve hurt my feelings,” said Colin.

“My lunch better be good.”

------------------------------------

The next morning, there was a knock at Draco’s office door. Thinking that it was probably Blaise, he said, “Come in.”

But the person that walked in was most certainly not Blaise. It was Weasley. Draco stifled a groan as she marched up to his desk, her long auburn hair trailing behind her.

“Why didn’t my secretary tell me you were coming?” Draco grumbled, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t have time for you this morning.”

“She didn’t tell you,” said Ginny, “because she wasn’t at her desk.”

“What do you want?” snapped Draco, getting up and walking towards her.

Ginny glared at him for a moment after he stopped in front of her. “You know what I want.”

Draco raised a suggestive eyebrow.

Rolling her eyes, Ginny continued. “I want you to find somewhere else to put your complex!”

“No,” said Draco, simply.

“You have to!” Ginny said hotly. “You’ll be killing magical creatures and forcing them out of their natural habitats!”

“It’s too late, anyways, Weasley,” said Draco. “I’ve bought that land and my construction workers are going to site tomorrow.”

“So call back your workers and sell the land,” said Ginny, setting her jaw stubbornly.

Draco scoffed. “Sell it to who?”

“You could keep it,” suggested Ginny. “And keep it as protected land.”

“That’s a waste of money,” said Draco.

“Your complex is a wasting precious magical creatures’ lives,” countered Ginny.

“I’ve listened to you enough,” Draco said irritably. “Leave.”

“You aren’t going to build that complex,” Ginny said in a low voice, turning quickly and striding out of his office. As she turned, the smell of cinnamon crept up Draco’s nose, setting off little triggers in his brain.

He stared at the door that she’d slammed shut.

It wasn’t Weasley, was it? he thought to himself. No, no, it couldn’t be.

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