"Ginny, you're so beautiful," crooned the dark-haired man. "I don't know how I've lived without you for so long. You make me complete."
Ginny pouted her lips. "You're so good to me, Orlando," she breathed lustily. She clamped her hands on his shoulders and brought her lips to within an inch of his. "Take me," she said dramatically as his hands went to her bodice.
Tap, tap, tap. Ginny blinked and stared up at Orlando. "Do you hear that?"
"I don't hear anything," he said, his eyes glazed. "You're beautiful."
Ginny pursed her lips. "Yes, I know that," she said impatiently.
Tap, tap, tap. "See? Do you hear it?"
Orlando's hands were busy at her dress, and she allowed herself to luxuriate in the feelings of his hands on her.
CRACK! The loud sound jerked Ginny abruptly awake and dragged her unceremoniously out of her dream. She blinked rapidly, the sun pouring into her eyes. She squeezed her eyes shut and shoved the pillow over her head. When she heard the squawking outside her window, she started steadily swearing. "Goddamn bird," she snarled to herself, throwing the pillow across the room. Morning was not Ginny's favorite time of day.
She rolled out of bed and kicked the covers away from her in bad temper. She went to the window and shoved it open. An owl tumbled inside, looking very disgruntled. He held out his leg for her to take the message, eyeing her balefully. She shoved her red hair out of her face and took the message. As soon as she had, he fluttered back up the windowsill and flew away, not even waiting for a crust of bread. Muttering to herself, Ginny pulled back down the window and inspected it. In the center of the glass was a radiating crack.
"Great," she muttered. "The damned bird put a huge crack in my damn window." She patted her nightstand, looking for her wand. When she didn't find it, she started muttering to herself again. Circe knew where the dratted thing was. She lost it half the time. She was losing everything half the time.
She glared at the sunlight that was pouring so cheerfully in through her window, illuminating the room. In Ginny's opinion, being cheerful before ten in the morning was cause enough to be murdered. Especially if you woke Ginny herself in the process. Glancing down at the rolled up message in her hand, Ginny grimly decided that whoever had sent it was obviously not familiar with her sleeping patterns. Otherwise it wouldn't have shown up til at least twelve.
She stumbled out of her room, tripped on the rug--must remember to fix that later--and finally made it into the kitchen after stubbing her toe on the hall table. She started the coffee machine, which immediately poured her a cup of coffee. She took it with a muttered thanks to the coffee maker and slumped at the small, circular table in her tiny kitchen. She tossed the message carelessly on the table and then slurped at her coffee, her eyes closed, for a good ten minutes. When she finally felt half alive, she opened her eyes and took the note and unrolled it with one hand while she kept sipping on her coffee to keep her from reverting to her nearly-comatose state of before.
She scanned the contents lazily without really reading it, but one word caught her eye. Frowning, she read back over the note as she took another sip of coffee. Seconds later, she sprayed coffee across the table. "What?" she squeaked. She sat the coffee cup down with a decided thump and read the note for a third time.
Dear Virginia Weasley,
As I'm sure you are aware, the situation has been tense in the few years since the defeat of You-Know-Who. Families that were once associated with You-Know-Who are viewed with utter derision and oftentimes outright hostility. Things reached a head last weekend in Diagon Alley when two members of a former Deatheater family were forcibly attacked and driven out of Diagon Alley. Miss Weasley, we are contacting you because we believe that you might have the solution that we are looking for.
You are a well known and respected figure, both as a member of the Weasley family as well as a prime player in the war against You-Know-Who. Therefore, we believe that to improve relations and to help to bridge the gap between the two warring factions of the magical world, it would be beneficial if you were to marry from one of these Deatheater families. You are more than welcome to visit me in my office at your earliest convenience to discuss the finer points of this arrangement.
Sincerely yours,
Jonathon Ravensblack
Minister of Magic
"Marry a Deatheater?" Ginny sputtered to her coffee. "That's ludicrous! What the hell is Jonathon thinking?"
Jonathon Ravensblack had been an old family friend for years, and was like an uncle to her. After the war with Voldemort, Cornelius Fudge had been forcibly removed from office. The position was immediately offered to Albus Dumbledore and then Arthur Weasley, both of whom had declined. Therefore Jonathon had stepped forward and subsequently become Minister of Magic. He had once been an Auror, but had retired from the field after he had been wounded in battle and never fully recovered. After he retired from being an Auror, he had joined the Ministry and had eventually become the head of the Aurors.
Ginny glared at the paper as if it were the Minister of Magic himself. What is he thinking? Ginny wondered acidly as she got up and stomped back into her room. "Why me?" she moaned pathetically. That answer came immediately, and she pouted. Because you're the only female in the Weasley clan, she thought glumly as she pulled out a pair of jeans and a flannel shirt. She dressed and got ready, then glanced around her room for her wand. When it wasn't immediately visible, she wanted to stomp her foot as if she were five years old again.
Instead she calmed herself and got down on her knees to peer under the bed. She stuck her head under it and immediately sneezed. Got to clean under the bed, she reminded herself as she peered around for her wand. A loud thump from the direction of her window startled her, and she jerked upwards, knocking her head against the underside of the bed.
"Dammit!" she shouted. "Damn all owls to hell! Damn them!" she carefully withdrew from under the bed, rubbing her aching head. She whipped her head around to glare at the window and recognized Pig. Still snarling, she snapped open the window. When Pig just looked at her with a dazed expression in his eyes, she said acidly, "You should be used to slamming into windows by now. C'mon in."
He tottered inside and held out his leg for her to take the message from. "Aren't I just popular today?" Ginny muttered, feeling out of sorts. She took the message from Pig and saw that he still looked disoriented. Sighing and softening, she picked him up and took him into the kitchen. She stepped carefully, not wanting to slip on the coffee that she had sprayed earlier. She sat him down on the table, and he shifted his feet gingerly. Abruptly she realized that she had sat him directly in a puddle of cooling coffee, and she huffed at him.
"Didn't know owls were so damned fastidious," she muttered grumpily, and saw Pig cock his head at her. She sighed again, and transferred him to the clean counter. She quickly toasted a piece of bread and broke off a piece and gave it to him. He made a soft little purring sound at her and happily munched on it as she unrolled the scroll.
To her relief, this one was from her father, and mercifully short. Gin, come home as soon as you've talked to Jonathon. ~Dad
She sighed and a smile quirked her lips. "That's Dad," she murmured to Pig as she fed him another piece of toast, which he promptly gobbled up. "Not one for long notes."
She looked around the kitchen dolefully. There was coffee everywhere, and she still hadn't found her wand. She didn't want to take the time to clean it up, but if she just left it, it would cool and everything would be sticky for ages. It also just went against her mother's training. Finally she gave Pig the last piece of the toast and started searching in earnest for her wand.
She eventually found it hiding in a vase of flowers, and absently wondered how it had gotten there. She immediately went back and cleaned up the kitchen with a quick swipe of her wand. Pig chirped cheerfully at her, and she glowered at him. It still wasn't ten o' clock, and cheerfulness was high on her list of ultimate evils. Pig wilted at her look, and she sighed.
"C'mon, Pig. Let's go. You need to be off to home." She picked him up on her wrist and snagged her heavy jacket from the closet as she passed and thoughtlessly shoved her wand into the pocket. She locked the door of her flat behind her and went outside. She immediately shivered at the cool air, and glanced around.
Her flat was one in a small complex that was mostly inhabited by older couples. She waved cheerfully to her next door neighbor, Mrs.Kingsley, and belatedly realized Pig was still on her wrist when he squawked loudly. She winced. "Sorry, Pig," she apologized, and he just looked at her with reproachful eyes.
She huffed at him. "Don't look at me that way. My morning sucks, and it hasn't even started yet," she muttered. "Now go on home." Pig nipped at her fingers, inadvertently drawing blood, then flew away. She winced and sucked on her finger, muttering about damned owls. She pulled on her jacket, grateful for its warmth. The November air had a decided bite to it, and the russet leaves littered the ground, leaving the trees bare and stark against the warm blue sky.
When she saw Mrs.Kingsley eyeing her hopefully, Ginny sighed to herself. She itched to go ahead and get to the Ministry to yell at Jonathon, but she couldn't just leave without talking to Mrs.Kingsley. The poor woman's husband had died a few years ago, and she didn't have many friends, so she was dreadfully lonely. Ginny kept her company every once in a while, and found her to be a genuinely caring and nice woman. The flats in her complex were small, perfect for couples or for people who lived alone like Mrs.Kingsley. Despite the small size of her flat, Ginny loved it. It was completely hers. She shared it with no one. After years of living with six brothers, any space that was totally hers was heaven to her.
Ginny trudged across the space that separated her from Mrs.Kingsley, who immediately brightened when she saw Ginny headed over to her. The older woman was raking up leaves into a huge pile. Ginny wondered what she was going to do with them once she had them all together. Instead of asking, she summoned up a smile. "Good morning, Mrs.Kingsley."
"Good morning, Ginny dear. I'm surprised to see you awake so early." Her eyes twinkled at Ginny.
She inwardly grimaced. Me too, she thought sourly, but instead smiled ruefully the woman. "Quite right," she agreed sadly. "I have to go home."
Mrs.Kingsley looked concerned. "Nothing serious, I hope?"
Ginny smiled affectionately. The old girl really was a dear. "No, nothing like that. Just some family business."
Mrs.Kingsley nodded, smiling brightly. "That's nice, dear. It's always good to have family." Sadness flitted across her face for a moment, and for the first time, Ginny wondered what had happened to Mrs.Kingsley's family. She had never heard the woman talk about them, and Ginny had never seen her have any visitors or owls.
"Yes, it's good to have family," Ginny said softly. Then she shook herself. "I'm so sorry that I have to rush off like this, Mrs.Kingsley, but I have some urgent business to attend to."
Mrs.Kingsley waved her hand quickly. "Of course, of course, dear. Don't let me keep you. You just be careful out there, you hear? There've been some terrible going-ons over in Diagon Alley lately." She frowned and started to rake leaves a little more forcefully than she had before. "Damned Deatheater scum," she grumbled to herself. "Shouldn't even be allowed in Diagon Alley."
Ginny's heart sunk. Even Mrs.Kingsley knew about the Diagon Alley debacle? And the hatred of the Deatheaters reached even here? Ginny had never found Mrs.Kingsley to be particularly fervent about anything, but she obviously was about this. And Jonathon wants me to marry out of one of these families? she thought dismally. He's insane. Certifiably insane.
"Yes ma'am," Ginny sighed. She patted Mrs.Kingsley's arm. "I'll come in and talk with you when I get home," she promised.
Mrs.Kingsley brightened. "That would be very nice, dear. Thank you."
Ginny smiled at her and walked a few feet away. She watched the woman for a moment as she muttered and grumbled to herself about damned Deatheaters, then sighed heavily and Apparated to the Ministry, fully intending to tell Jonathon what she thought about his hair-brained scheme.
***************
Ginny appeared on the landing area outside the Ministry doors and quickly stepped off the flat dais as another person abruptly appeared on it. The older witch who had appeared gave her a quick, absent smile as she rushed into the building, simultaneously ruffling through papers in her hands. Ginny shoved her hands deep into the pockets of her jacket, thanking Merlin that she didn't work at the Ministry. She didn't know how laid-back Jonathon managed to be Minister of Magic. The job had "stress" written all over it. Shaking her head to herself, Ginny hurried inside.
The halls were cool and quiet. Labeled doors led off from the main hall, and she knew that if she opened one of them it would lead into the catacombs of that particular department. Her father's department was behind one of the doors, but she wasn't here for him. That thought was enough to press her mouth into a militant line, and she hurried down the hallway, her soft shoes making barely no sound on the floors. Occasionally there was a witch or wizard who was rushing down the main hall, but it was mostly quiet. There were shorter, quicker ways to move between departments that employees usually used. Visitors used this main hallway.
Ginny came abruptly to a large mahogany door that was guarded by two burly men. They eyed her for a long moment. Then Ginny grinned up at them. "Hi guys." They smiled indulgently down at her.
"Hey, Ginny. You here to see Jonathon?"
She winked up at them. "Absolutely not. I'm here to see my two favorite men." They both grinned down at her and bent from their great heights for her to stand on tip-toe to kiss their cheeks affectionately.
She glanced over at one, curbing her impatience. This was a regular ritual, and she usually enjoyed it. Now she only wanted to get to Jonathon and demand answers. But she knew both men--despite their huge size--would be hurt if she didn't go through with the little ritual. "How's Mel, Kenny?"
"Pregnant again," he said gloomily, and caused Ginny's laughter to ring down the long hall. A wizard down the hall raised his head from his papers to glare at her, then whisked through one of the doors leading into the departments.
"Well, you know how to fix that," she scolded gently, and he sighed heavily.
"I know, I know. And we try, but it never seems to work."
Ginny grinned up at him. "Maybe you don't want to stop having kids," she teased him, then laughed again at his horrified face.
She held up her hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. I guess you do." Kenny had four children already and his wife Mel was pregnant with their fifth. Ginny knew that Kenny adored his wife and children to distraction. Which was probably why Mel kept getting pregnant.
Kenny smiled at her and ruffled her hair in a rough gesture of affection. From beneath his big hand, she shot the other man a sideways look, which he ignored by staring at the ceiling. "And what about you, Anton? Still clinging to that bachelor status?"
"By the fingernails," he said stoutly. "I'm not looking to tie myself down with a woman. No offense," he said hastily, and caused Ginny to grin.
"None taken," she said dryly. "I don't believe we women usually carry our extra-strength ropes around on a daily basis, Anton. So I think maybe you could date once in a while."
He glared at her, which she ignored. "I go on dates," he said defensively, and whipped his head around at Kenny's snort.
"I do!" he insisted. "I just went on a date the other night."
"With who, your mother?" Kenny scoffed, and Ginny laughed when she saw Anton flush.
She squeezed his big hand. "Don't worry, Anton. You'll find the right lady."
He smiled down at her and winked. He might not date, but he sure had the moves, Ginny thought dryly. The man had flirtation down to an art. "I've already found the right woman. Marry me and run away to Fiji with me, Ginny!" He clutched his chest dramatically, causing Ginny to laugh at him. But the word 'marry' reminded her of why she was there.
"I don't think Fiji's on the short-term list of goals, Anton," she said with a sigh. "Is Jonathon in?"
Both men sobered. "Yup. Isn't he always?" Kenny said dryly.
"I suppose so," Ginny said with a sigh. She hugged both men. "I've got to go talk to him," she said apologetically. She stabbed a finger at Kenny. "You, stop getting Mel pregnant. And learn how to change diapers." When Kenny started to protest, she ignored him and turned to Anton and stabbed a finger at him. "And you, Mr. Bachelor, start taking a woman out. That's not your mother. You could start with that cute girl in the Magical Creatures Department. I've seen her eye you a time or two. Now, good day, gentlemen." Then she swept regally by them as they chuckled, and through the large mahogany door and into chaos.
Notes flew magically across the room from one desk to another. Although notes would have done just fine, people still shouted orders at one another across the room. Apprentices dashed wildly around the room with stacks of files, their expressions harried and eyes wild. The sound of many quills writing furiously only added to the cacophony of noise. Ginny waved broadly to the room in general as greetings were shouted before people returned to what they had been doing. She forged determinedly through the room to the other side and through another door. The room was almost completely empty and mostly used so there was a buffer between the insanity of the Common Room and the Minister's actual office. Space was becoming limited in the Ministry as the departments had to expand, so the once sacred sanctuary of the Minister was rapidly being encroached upon. Once there would have been no one in the Common Room. Now it was overstocked with stressed, rushing witches and wizards.
Ginny pushed open the last door and stepped into the Minister of Magic's office. She glanced around quickly to make sure she wasn't interrupting a meeting and saw that the room was empty of people except for a man in a chair with his back turned to her.
She propped her fists on her hips and her eyes flashed. "What the hell is all this business about marriage to a Deatheater family?" she demanded heatedly.
The chair swiveled and she came face to face with the Minister of Magic. Although he was nearing fifty as her father was, he had aged well. As most men did, Ginny thought sourly on behalf of all womanhood. The lines in his face gave it character, as did the scar that ran diagonally down his right cheek, testament to his time as an Auror in the field. His eyes were a steady, calm blue, and his hair was as black as a raven's wing with only a few strands of silver. His body was still whipcord lean. He was an incredibly graceful man, a fact that Ginny had envied since she was old enough to want to be graceful. His hands were the only thing about him that belied the elegant appearance. They were the hands of a warrior--marred with scars and nicks. The pinky finger on his left hand was twisted slightly from having healed wrong years ago after being broken. His hands looked as though they would be equally competent with either a wand or sword, and Ginny had no doubt he would manage quite well with either one. He had always been her hero as a child, and when she was younger she had dreamed of marrying him. She had grown out of those girlhood dreams, and now usually called him Uncle Jonathon. Except when she was angry with him. Like now.
"You're not going to be marrying the whole family, dearest," he said mildly. "Just one of the males."
She narrowed her eyes at him and flopped down into one of the chairs in front of his desk. "Don't play semantics with me, Jonathon. Why me? Why did I get elected for this scheme?"
"Because you're perfect for the role," he said calmly. "And I trust you."
She threw up her hands in exasperation. "Great! I'm one of the few people you can trust, so you toss me to the wolves?"
His mouth twitched. "I'm not 'tossing' you to the wolves, Virginia." She winced visibly when he said her full name. He was one of the only people who used her full name. It was one of the reasons she had solemnly informed him at ten that she couldn't marry him. The other reason had that she was going to marry Harry Potter. That would-be marriage had also fallen through, as he was blissfully married to one Hermione Granger and producing kids at an alarming rate. Babies everywhere, she thought grumpily. People need to learn some self-control. She shoved her mind back to the matter at hand.
"Well if you're not 'tossing me to the wolves', then what are you doing?" she demanded petulantly. "Please clue me in, because it sure as hell looks like you're doing just that!"
He sighed. "Virginia, things are growing tense. Right after You-Know-Who was defeated, things were fine. Everybody was so relieved and happy that he was gone forever that no one really thought about the people who had followed him. The former Deatheaters either melted back into society or were sent to Azkaban. But now that some of the shock's worn off, people have started to wonder if maybe any of the people who followed You-Know-Who might want to set themselves up as the next Dark Lord."
Ginny's brow furrowed. "Well that's natural. They followed him, so they obviously believed in his crusade." Her mouth twisted bitterly. She more than most knew how very cruel Voldemort's crusade had been.
Jonathon sighed. "Maybe. But there are such things as second chances, Virginia."
Ginny's eyes chilled. "Not to me," she said coldly, and Jonathon looked startled.
He seemed to age before her eyes. When had she grown up so fast? he thought wearily. Looking at her now, it was hard to remember the girl that he had bounced on his knee. The girl who had proposed marriage to him at age four, and the little redhead who had always followed in her older brothers' footsteps. Now she was an independent, witty woman who was easily his contemporary. It made him feel very old.
He had participated in small ways to the final battle against Voldemort, but hadn't been in the real fighting. This slight woman with her wealth of silky red hair had stood at Harry Potter's side in those final hours and killed Deatheaters. She had done what he was unable to do--she had finally helped to rid the world of Lord Voldemort. Now he was putting her into an untenable position--to wed the enemy. He wanted her to be the bridge that closed the gap that had split the wizarding world. It was a horrible burden to place upon those slender shoulders than had already borne so much, but he knew of no other choice.
He felt a lump in his throat as he looked at her. He had watched her grow up, and in the absence of his own children, she had become like a daughter to him. He hated to use her, but knew that for the safety and preservation of their world, he was going to have to. He laid his hand across the desk, and saw her eyes go from angry to concerned all in a flash. She leaned forward and gripped his hand with hers, her grip firm and strong. Youth, he thought sadly. How very fleeting it was. He would give almost anything to taste the heady sweetness of it again.
"Ginny," he said softly, and saw her start. He never called her by her shortened name. "Ginny, I love you like my own daughter. You know I would never do anything to hurt you, don't you?"
She nodded slowly, and he saw tears glitter in her eyes. She squeezed his hand. "I know that," she said gently. "But I don't understand why this has to be me, Uncle Jon."
He squeezed his eyes shut. Merlin, the job weighed on him. Especially at times like this. Finally he opened his eyes again. "Ginny, you're from a highly influential and political family. It's well known that I'm almost part of the family, and that your father is a Departmental Head. Charlie's a dragon tamer, which gives him a certain amount of fame, and then there's Ron, Harry Potter's best friend. And then there's your own personal fame to add to it. You and Hermione are the most celebrated women in history. You both stood toe-to-toe with Voldemort and beat him back."
He saw a blush rise to Ginny's cheeks, and nearly smiled. "You have political impetus, even if you don't think you do," he continued relentlessly. "There's no other woman that's as highly regarded as you are that's unmarried and under the age of seventy." Ginny's mouth twitched at that, then she regarded Jonathon with unsmiling eyes as he continued. "You're the only person I could ask to do this, Virginia. Otherwise I never would have approached you with it."
"But why does it have to be marriage?" she pressed. "Why can't I just be--friends with one them?" she wrinkled her nose in disgust. She didn't regard Deatheaters any more highly than Mrs.Kingsley did. Even less, in fact. Ginny had seen friends fall to Deatheaters before her eyes. It didn't give her the warm and fuzzies to think of marrying a Deatheater, or even into a family of one.
"Friends isn't enough," he said grimly. "That's doesn't give it a sense of permanence, or that you're serious. If someone like you can marry a Deatheater, then it will show everyone that they're not as bad as people are making them out to be."
"But they are as bad as people are making them out to be," Ginny snapped. "They're murderers and bigots, Jonathon!"
Jonathon pulled his hand away from hers and slammed them both down on the desk in frustration, making her snatch her hand back to save her fingers. His blue eyes flashed sparks at her. "Goddammit, Virginia. I'm asking you to do this for me. I need you, and no one else can do it. It won't be for forever. Just until things settle down and you can separate quietly. If this doesn't happen, the wizarding world will be torn apart by civil war. And what the hell's the point of defeating You-Know-Who if his legacy of hate is just going to live on? He'll still winning, even from the grave, the bastard." He started to pace around the room.
Ginny bit her lip as she watched him pace. She knew that this job was slowly taking its toll on him. Positions of great power always did so to those who held them. And he was asking for her help. Was it such a great thing? she asked herself, gnawing on her lip. To sham a marriage for a little while? She had done worse things before, certainly.
Like what? her conscience asked skeptically. She beat it down in irritation and continued thinking.
It wouldn't last very long, she assured herself. Maybe a few weeks, possibly a month or two at least. And then her life would return to normal, none the worse for wear. And if she had helped her beloved Uncle Jon in the process, was that such a great hardship? She sighed in defeat, then asked irritably, "I have to pretend to actually like him, don't I?"
Startled, he turned to face her, then she saw the tension drain from him. "Yes," he admitted. "Otherwise it would serve no purpose."
She raked one hand through her russet hair and glared up at him out of clear blue eyes. "You better buy me a damn good birthday gift," she grumped. "Spectacular. It better have phenomenal cosmic powers."
His face split into a broad grin as he seated himself again, breathing a sigh of relief. "I swear it," he promised solemnly, and she smiled at him.
He reached out and squeezed her hand, then sat back. "You're right, basically it will have to be passed off as love match. And it won't last very long--maybe just a few weeks." More like a few months, he thought to himself, but decided not to mention that to her. She looked edgy enough, and now that he had her helping him, he didn't want to have her bolt.
She narrowed her eyes. "I'm not going to sleep with him," she said firmly, and saw by his horrified face that the thought had never even crossed his mind.
"Hell no!" he said violently. "You have my express permission to hex him for as long as you'd like if he even tries it. I've already spoken to him about it."
Ginny arched her eyebrow sardonically. "So you already have my husband arranged for me?"
He squirmed, and if she hadn't been annoyed, it would have amused her to watch it. "Yes," he admitted. "I didn't want you to end up with someone completely terrible."
"Well, there was such slim pickings, I'm not sure how you managed to find someone who was only semi-terrible," she said sarcastically.
"Why, my dear fiancée, I'm hurt," said a cold voice from the doorway. Ginny froze, and felt like all the blood in her body had turned to ice. She turned slowly and stared as Draco Malfoy sauntered into the room and flopped gracefully into a chair beside her.
He raised her numb fingers to his lips and pressed a kiss to them, his eyes glittering icily at her over it. She snatched her hand away and wiped it on her jeans, her lip curled. Then she whipped her head around to her uncle, who was glaring balefully at Draco, who only looked amused.
"Him?" she said desperately. "Of all the men you could have chosen, it had to be him?"
Draco smiled at her, but it was a dangerous smile. Like a predator baring its teeth instead of a gesture of amusement. It made her shiver to see it. "Why, wife, your stream of insults quite wounds my feelings." He lounged in the chair, looking like a jungle cat. It made Ginny want to slap him. She gritted her teeth.
"I'm not your wife, Malfoy," she snarled.
He didn't look troubled. "You will be soon enough," he said, his voice tranquil.
Ginny shot Jonathon a look that promised dire death. If Malfoy hadn't been there, he would have quailed beneath her very formidable feminine temper. She had gotten the damned thing from Molly, Jonathon thought grumpily. Molly was fearsome when she was in a temper. Thankfully she rarely lost her temper. Ginny's was a little quicker than her mother's, unfortunately.
"Cut it out, Malfoy," Jonathon snapped. Malfoy grated on his nerves as well, but he was a damn sight better than the other choices Jonathon had to work with. Some of the families Jonathon had looked over he wouldn't have let his dog near, let alone his precious only niece. Malfoy had been the lesser of several evils. And despite Malfoy's irritating personality, Jonathon was certain Ginny would hold her own. The girl came from good stock, he thought in wry amusement.
Draco just looked amused, and glanced around Jonathon's office. It was spartan, but what few furnishings there were were masculine and obviously expensive. "Nice place," he commented. "A bit too sparse for my taste, but whatever floats your boat."
"Cut the small talk, Malfoy," Ginny snapped, her teeth gritted to keep from shouting at someone. She wanted to wring someone's neck, and Malfoy's was looking great right about now. Followed closely by Jonathon's.
Draco's gray eyes cut to hers swiftly. "I'm trying to make this a little easier, Weasley," he snapped. "Merlin knows that I'm not jumping for joy to have you as my wife."
"Well it's not like it will be for long. But then, none of your marriages are," Ginny said nastily, and had the pleasure of watching his face darken. Her reference to his brief marriage and subsequent divorce of Pansy Parkinson was below the belt, but Ginny felt like she could occasionally sacrifice principles in the name of pleasure. Especially when it was at Draco Malfoy's expense. She hadn't liked the git in school, and even after they had both graduated she still hadn't liked him. She hadn't seem him on either side of the final battle, but he was damned by association in her eyes. She had seen his friends Crabbe and Goyle and Zabini on the side of the Deatheaters, and his father and mother had been prominent figures as commanders for the Deatheaters. That made him guilty in her eyes. And Ginny didn't believe in second chances. Therefore marriage to Draco Malfoy made her want to stuff a spoon down her throat and gleefully choke on it.
"Ginny, that's quite enough," Jonathon snapped, inwardly wondering how the hell these two were going to manage for months. Surely one of them would kill the other. But since Jonathon had already put a spell on Malfoy so that he couldn't physically or magically harm Ginny, Jonathon wasn't too worried about Ginny's welfare. He did wonder if he'd find Malfoy in pieces on his doorstep one night, considering the look in Ginny's eyes. They hadn't even gotten out of his office and they were at each other's throats.
Ginny shot him a fulminating look, but he gave her a steady, level one that reminded her instantly that he wasn't just her favorite uncle, he was also the Minister of Magic. So she closed her mouth and crossed her arms over her chest and fumed to herself. She sensed that if he hadn't been trying to preserve his dignity, Malfoy would have done the same. Jonathon sighed heavily. "Look, you two. This is beneficial to everyone. How can you two present this as a love match if you look like you're ready to kill each other?"
Neither Draco nor Ginny answered, although they took time away from sulking to glare balefully at one another. "Am I going to have to marry him in public?" Ginny demanded. "Because I don't want to tarnish my name more than possible."
"Oh please," Draco said scornfully. "As if I'm looking forward to it either. I don't want to tarnish my name."
Jonathon saw Ginny open her mouth and knew precisely what she was going to say, so he cut her off before she could start another argument. "Virginia, shut your mouth," he said sharply. "I am rapidly losing patience with both of you. You will be civil to one another, at least while you are in this office, or I will throw you out. And that will tarnish both your names."
Ginny sat back in her chair and glared at the ceiling. Jonathon took a steadying breath. He was supposed to have huge reserves of patience as the Minister of Magic. These two were rapidly using all of it. "To answer your question, Virginia, no--you will not have to be married in a public ceremony. You will be married quietly by me, and then you will return to Malfoy Manor."
Ginny stared at Jonathon in shock. Maybe she had been idealistic or at least not thinking clearly, but she hadn't realized that she would have to live at Malfoy Manor. That meant leaving her lovely flat. "What about my flat?" she blurted out. "I don't have to get rid of it, do I?"
Jonathon glanced at her, and shook his head, a smile curving his lips. He knew how much Ginny loved that tiny little flat. He shook his head. "No," he said gently. "The Ministry will pay for the rent while you're not there, Virginia. You can keep it."
Ginny breathed a soft sigh of relief. Then she glanced over at Malfoy, who was stubbornly staring out the window as if he didn't give a damn about what was going on in the room. Since just looking at him made anger bubble in her veins, she resolutely turned her gaze elsewhere. Jonathon sighed. "I'll marry you tomorrow. I think both of you should go home. Virginia, you need to pack tonight. I'll have someone bring your things to Malfoy Manor tomorrow. Both of you should be here around one o' clock tomorrow. Meet me here in my office."
Malfoy nodded curtly, and Ginny did the same. Jonathon sighed heavily. "You don't know how much I appreciate this from both of you."
Malfoy rose lazily to his feet. "I'm not doing this for you, sir. I'm doing this for me. I don't feel like being mobbed in the streets or being lynched."
Jonathon stared at him levelly. "I don't give a damn why you're doing it, Malfoy, just as long as you do it."
Draco nodded curtly and glanced over at Ginny, his eyes like chips of flint. "Weasley."
"Malfoy," she said coolly. Then he strode out of the office. Once he was gone, Ginny looked over at Jonathon and shook her head with a sigh. "I need a nap," she proclaimed firmly. "I'm going home and taking a nap and hope this isn't happening."
Jonathon smiled sadly. "It's happening, pet. I hope we all get through it alive."
Ginny stepped toward him and hugged him tightly. His arms went around her and hugged her back. Then she kissed his cheek. "I do too, Uncle Jon," she said quietly. "I'll see you later." Then she exited his office, leaving him alone and feeling very old indeed.