Chapter 2:
"The One where Draco Meets the Chef"
Discalimer: I already did one in chapter 1, my situation has not changed. Oh, and I must give Beyonce credit for the lyrics I borrowed.
Ginny sat in her favorite chair gazing out the snowy window. Christmas was upon them and she had already survived her first two months at the Malfoy's. On her first day she had left early to appease Hermione's continuous Flooing the kitchen fireplace to check on her. She hadn't realized the Malfoy's dined that late and her flat mate was worried. She had sworn Hermione to secrecy about her new job so no one else but Hermione knew she was even there. She was at Malfoy Manor for Merlin's sake! By the grace of her worried friend she had narrowly avoid a 'ferret sighting' as she later jokingly called it. Kaenery informed her the next day that the young Mister Malfoy had sought her out. He requested that she bake the cheesecake once a week at least. This brought a great deal of pride to Ginny.
Today was her off day. Technically. On Sunday morning all Ginny had to do was drop off her supply list to Kaenery and prep the food for the day. Usually for dinner she made a refrigerated desert the night before and the rest was bake and send. She gave Kaenery cooking lessons on Saturday nights and the two women usually enjoyed some wine and laughter while Ginny explained a few tricks that made some things come along simpler and tastier than traditional methods. As a result Kaenery cooked Sunday breakfast while Ginny gave instructions on how to set out dinner. The woman was a powerhouse that reminded her much of her own mother at home taking care of a house full of children and one decidedly flighty husband. She had, to Ginny's dismay, not been at the Manor today. Conner said a family emergency occurred and she would be gone for the remainder of the week. He would be stepping in her position in the mean time and was fine to let Ginny continue to have her Sunday off. She also let Conner have Wednesdays off since it was the day the Malfoy home was the quietest. All in all Ginny was satisfied with her job. Her few objections to being placed in Malfoy Manor were smoothed over by Blaise. After assuring her that past the first day she would have little to no contact with the family he had also told her that Draco wouldn't even recognize her should their paths cross. Then he made a very strategic move, he stroked her ego.
"The truth is, Ms. Weasley, no one else who applied is as qualified for the job as you are."
Ginny smiled at the memory. I was nice to be told that you were the most qualified, even if the position was as a personal chef to the Malfoy family.
The sound of a creaking door jarred Ginny from her thoughts. Hermione made her way into the study and seated herself in the chair across from Ginny.
"How's work?"
"Great. Ditto to you?"
Hermione shifted in her chair, "Still no luck. No one will hire me. I am Miss Hermione Granger, the witch who dispersed the house elves. I can't go anywhere without being hexed, or at least being yelled at. I'm considering taking a Muggle holiday."
Ginny nearly did a double take at this. A Muggle holiday was something she and her friend often joked about, getting a flat in London and partying down until the sun came up or later. It was just that, a joke. Ginny could see from the stress lines that had taken residence on her friend's face all the drama was getting to her. Maybe it would be for the best.
"So how long are you going to be gone for? Until this whole house elf thing blows over?"
"Yeah. I know it's very un-Gryffindor of me, but there's a difference between bravery and just being fed up. I'm at the end of my tether with this Ginny. Any more and I may just snap one day and hex a room full of people with elf ears."
"Are you going to tell Harry before you leave?"
Hermione's answer was so low Ginny had to strain to hear it.
"I haven't spoken to him since he moved in with Ron."
"Translation being since he moved out. Bloody hell, Hermione, what happened between the two of you? I've asked my brother and he said two people as close as you and Harry shouldn't live together, but they do just fine and so do we. Harry changes the subject whenever I bring up your name and you're no better. What's the big secret that I can't know?"
"I made a mistake, a big one, and we need time." Hermione sighed, her eyes closing as a bitter smile crossed her lips. "If even time is enough to fix it."
Ginny knew she had gotten as far as she could on the subject, but it was further than she had gotten before. About four months prior Hermione had showed up at the Burrow with an offer Ginny could not refuse. Harry had moved out and she was in need of a flat mate, pronto. Ginny jumped on the offer only to find out later from her brother that Harry had moved out not from the pressures of living with a girl (as Ginny had figured, bras and hair stuff everywhere would drive any guy nutters) but because he and Hermione had a fight. A big one. One that Ron didn't even know the reason of. Harry refused, although very politely, any attempts Ginny made to have him over. Hermione wouldn't visit Ron at home, instead met she him out for lunch twice a week to catch up. They were at a stalemate, neither former roomies would budge.
"You can't leave yet, we have to have one last weekend, you and me, a night with the girls. Saturday, we'll go to a Muggle club in city that no one will know us at. We'll rent a room and get insanely sloshed and sleep it off there. We can go just after I get off of work, I'll even bring my clothes with me and meet you there."
Hermione perked up a little. "Sounds great. I can endure five more days of hiding in shadows."
* * *
Draco made his way to the kitchen strait from coming home from work. Monday was always a bad day, he had the weekend's profits from the Malfoy businesses to review and reports to turn in. The only thought that had seen him through his hectic day was cheesecake, more precisely the one he could have made for him fresh at home. With his mother on vacation to visit her family (some distant cousin whose saving grace was a villa in the south of France) he had no need for a formal dinner. Just cheesecake, and lots of it. Narcissa had Flooed him shortly after four to inform him that she was leaving, a last minute decision. A week, or a few more, without his mother in the house was Draco's idea of a vacation. He was near vomiting with her constant requests to write his father. Whenever he would ask why if she wouldn't write her own husband why did he have to do it, she would stammer off into something about 'not having the proper words.' Whatever those were. Draco's musing were interrupted by a sight he never expected to see in his house (or anywhere else) when he opened the kitchen door.
There was a woman, not a child the way his mother had described her. On the counter was an odd shaped sort of thing with buttons and dials everywhere that was emitting music into the room. Music the woman was dancing to. Her red hair hung down her back in waves to the top of her arse, swaying with her movement. He had never seen a chef move like this. Dressed in a short black skirt and a loose fitting black sweater the woman moved in tune with the music, in one hand she held a whisk which she used as a microphone to sing into. Draco was mesmerized my her curvy trim legs that were fully on display.
"I'm feeling sexy, I wanna hear you say my name, boy." She turned to face him, her eyes closed, she dipped down to the floor and raised herself in timing with the tempo. She turned around again and this time Draco could see a flash of a tight stomach and delicately curved waist from the slight lifting of the top. His breath caught in his throat. She was familiar, but Draco couldn't place her.
"If you can reach me, you can feel my burning flame," at this she turned around again. This time her eyes were completely open.
Shocked, Ginny dropped the whisk, her mouth frozen in an O of horror. Then, as if she had evaluated the situation and thought better of her present stance, stood up strait, smiled, and reached her hand out to shake his.
"Pleased to meet you Mr. Malfoy, I am your chef, Ginny Weasley."
If a pin would have dropped in the room at that moment it would have been heard across the entire house, had it not been for the sound from the button and dial music maker.
"I want cheesecake for dinner. And milk. And coffee. My mother will not be here. Um, chocolate cheesecake. Warm, uh, understood?"
Ginny flashed him a dazzling smile. Once again for the second time in five minutes he found it difficult to breathe. "What ever you desire Mr. Malfoy. Anything else you wish me to prepare for you?" Ginny placed a look of mock obedience on her face, her mind racing a kilometer a minute. She needed this job and he hated her family.
Draco looked around the kitchen. He focused on the button thingie.
"Turn that off, it will distract you while you make my cheesecake."
Ginny smiled, "Of course. Your dessert will be ready in little over an hour," and she turned around to continue what she was doing in between her singing and dancing. A slightly bewildered Draco left the kitchen feeling as if he had just been dismissed from a room in his own house. Walking down the hallway he paused mid-step as a sudden realization hit him. With a loud crack he was gone from his house one second and in the next standing in front of Blaise Zabini.
* * *
Blaise looked up from his desk to see his very irate cousin. He smiled a wide mischievous smile.
"I see you have discovered Ms. Weasley's employment at your humble abode."
Draco looked about ready to breathe fire.
"What were you thinking? Hiring a Weasley to work for me, to stay over long periods of time at my house, to prepare my food!"
"You did once say that she was 'the only not completely hopeless spawn of the Weasley gene pool', if I remember correctly, in our seventh year no less. I didn't think you'd completely find fault in my decision. Besides, the witch is a near goddess in the kitchen, or do you disagree?" Blaise raised one eyebrow questioningly as he tried desperately to keep the mirth from his face. His cousin right now was truly priceless.
"You did this on purpose, as a joke, to torment me? I wager you think you were so clever doing this. Has your little prank played out as well as you hoped?"
"Even better. Revenge, a dish best served cold. In your case you get mine with a side of asparagus topped with béarnaise sauce."
For a moment Draco looked perplexed. Then realization hit him. "You cannot be serious, for that?"
Blaise smiled, triumph gleaming in his eyes.
"Yes, dear cousin, for that."
* * *
Ginny cut the cake into eighths separating individual slices by a mere inch. In between each slice she placed one raspberry and filled in the remaining emptiness with chocolate shavings. She grinned mischievously at her work. From what she remembered of ferret boy from her Hogwarts days his sweet tooth was like an obsession to him. Her first few weeks she had been touch and go to her regarding her employment, but now she felt stable. She was sure Malfoy would justify employing her in his head as she was his inferior on the social ladder, but as long as her salary did not decrease she was not moving. Ginny loved her job.
The grandfather clock in the den could be heard in every room of the house. At the chime of seven thirty Ginny waved her wand over the cake and watched as it disappeared along with the milk and coffee, both cups magically charmed to refill the moment the glass became level.
Monday. A long week ahead of her where she would only be cooking for Malfoy according to Conner. Maybe longer if Narcissa saw fit to stay in France. Ginny caught the thoughts in her mind for a minute and wondered why she was so comfortable calling Narcissa by her first name and Malfoy by, well, Malfoy (or Ferret Boy). Her brief run in with the matriarch was rude and condescending in tone, her moment with Malfoy was him stammering in pure shock where Ginny knew she had the upper hand. She smiled to herself, her mind went to what she was doing at the time. It wasn't the first time in the last hour she had wondered if it was her being a Weasley that had unsettled him, or the display he had walked in on. Just getting off the Floo network with Hermione about their night out Saturday she was in a dancing mood. Ginny had been told on more than forty occasions about her moves, a few times by non-partial (homosexual) witnesses and had every confidence that she was desirable.
Blaise had already told her Narcissa said she would 'famish to nothing and a dull bronzed knut' if she did not gain substance on from non other than the wunderkind girl cook. Ginny was curious. Was she able to push the limits of a Malfoy, one young male one unparticular?
* * *
Draco could not touch the cheese cake. He tried. His fork had grazed it's edges, peeled away a small layer of
warm creaminess. Her hands had made it. What bothered him was not the usual 'Oh, Muggle loving Weasley hands'.
He had gotten over that long ago when he was not constantly faced with the amazing trio every day. It was the same
hands he had seen skim up her sides as she sang and slightly twitched her hips with the music. Not so much a twist, he
mused, as a sway, her small waist rotating in unison with the outward curve her hips made with the dip of her legs. He
then remembered Blaise's parting advice to him:
"Get over yourself and get over what you expect her to be. You may be surprised. If you decide to keep your head firmly implanted up your arse, please refrain from making her life hell. She's above you, and she's certainly above the position she keeps in your house."
Draco picked up the cake plate and walked to the kitchen. In the back corner of his mind he hoped to find her dancing, but then he'd have to berate her for disobeying him. What he found was her perched on the counter with her legs crossed at her knees, the damnable skirt bunched at the apex of her legs revealing more leg than was proper in his kitchen, or anywhere else in his house. Ginny looked to him and quirked a delicately arched cinnamon colored eyebrow.
"I tried to recall the plate but nothing happened. Was something remiss with your, um, 'dinner'?"
"I'm not used to eating alone, at least not here. I'll finish later when I find it convenient."
Ginny nodded, a smirk on her lips. "When you have company? If you have a dinner guest at any time other than your mother let me know and I can whip up a ravishing meal. I do an excellent job with crème brulee. It would be advantageous to you to make a display of licking the spoon in such an event."
She was flirting. He knew it.
Draco stepped up to her, his eyes locked into hers and without preamble let the plate fall to the counter. Neither flinched when the sharp sound of porcelain meeting marble rudely disturbed the silence of the room.
"That would be nice for tomorrow night, I will be having a guest. Please dress accordingly."
Draco left the kitchen, a certain lazy grace accented his walk, the sway of his body and legs. Ginny wondered what he looked like when he danced, if he ever danced. Then it hit her…
Dress accordingly?
* * *
Seven thirty on the mark she sent the appetizer out, two small plates of shrimp almandine made with extra amaretto to appeal to Malfoy's sweet palate. Ten minutes later when she recalled the plates they were both untouched. More than just a bit perplexed Ginny let out a frustrated growl. She knew the shrimp were perfect, she had tasted them herself to be sure. Taking both plates in hand she made a bee line for the dinning hall, her three inch heels making angry echoes sound through the hall. She could see a faint light flickering through the open door. Sealing herself against his sure insults (had he set this up to insult her in front of a guest?) she stepped through the door.
Draco was the lone occupant of the room. Reclining in his usual chair he had the airs of a king, or at least a brat prince. With an almost bored sigh Malfoy gestured to the chair across from him.
"I've been waiting. Sit."
Ginny was confused.
Not knowing what else to do, Ginny sat in the suggested chair. Conner came from the shadows somewhere behind her and took the shrimp out of her hands and placed one plate in front of her and the other in front of his employer. Already poured in a crystal balloon glasses was a canary tinted white wine. Malfoy lifted his glass and took a sip.
"Fine choice, I assumed it's one of yours, it's not one that was kept in stock here previous to your employment. Use it to cook much?"
"Not really, more of a suggestion." Oh Merlin, was Draco 'Ferret Boy' Malfoy really making small talk with her?
"Thank you for dressing appropriately for dinner. Do you always wear black?"
"Having red hair it's difficult to find a color to suit me. White does well, but not in winter, I seem to get washed out with all the snow."
Draco looked her over, from the crown of her head to her stomach, which was the last thing available to his perusal. She wore a flowing black dress that had a high neck and empire waist line. Classic, not dramatic, as his mother usually chose to dress for their dinners. Her hair was in a tight twist at the nape of her neck and she wore no makeup. Adult hood had done Ginny Weasley well, her high cheek bones held a healthy blush (probably from her earlier anger). In Hogwarts her face had always held that innocent child look with a cherub mouth and wide eyes those features had matured with the loss of baby fat to a woman's face. How his mother could have ever mistaken her for a child was beyond him.
Ginny refused to shrink under his assessment of her. Instead she returned the favor. Draco's pale looks were complimented by his white button dress shirt. His hair was cut short and fell in soft waves about his brow. Even relaxing he still managed to look aristocratic. The most unnerving thing about him was his eyes, a gray that bordered on silver. She could almost hear him snicker at her description 'Platinum Weasley, silver is below a Malfoy.'
"How did you learn to cook?"
Small talk again.
"My mother mostly. Being the only girl we are really close. She would show me all kinds of tricks and her special cook books and recipes she only used on holidays. Eventually I started to experiment myself with different things. I also would sneak down to Hogwarts kitchens and have the house elves teach me their technique. When Fleur married Bill she suggested I apprentice at Le Martinque, her brother's place, under him. That's about it."
"Your don't cook like that place. I've eaten there a few times on business. Your style is a little more, what's the word I'm searching for? Eclectic. The chef there tended to stay with one genre of food."
"I like to experiment. Boredom does strange things to you when all you have at your disposal is a large kitchen and everything a chef could ever desire at her fingertips."
Draco smiled, accepting her compliment. A warm sensation settled in Ginny's stomach. Why was he being so accommodating, so bloody charming?
"Do you miss the energy of working there? You must have fits of lethargy here."
"I prefer this. I don't feel stifled. Are were going to eat? This warming charm won't last forever."
"By all means, I've been waiting for you to get started."
* * *
They ate their meal with small topics of conversation keeping the mood pleasant. He asked of her opinion on new witch dress robe fashions (not risqué enough, she liked the Muggle trends as of late) and she inquired of his busy schedule and if he ever get any weekends off (he was away on weekends checking on businesses in lower Britain, and his ministry work kept him busy during the week). The main course was a pan fried redfish served with lump crab meat covered in white wine cream sauce and grilled asparagus. Ginny had asked Conner to fetch her wand from the kitchen and she conjured up the dishes for them when they were done with the shrimp. Draco was impressed. She clarified her proficiency with Apparation of food came from the Hogwarts house elves.
Dessert was crème brulee as promised. When the dessert appeared the top did a small sizzle as flame magically erupted.
"Once again, much impressed. I suppose you had it charmed to do that on appearance?"
She blushed, his compliments on her skills more than she was used to. "Of course, how else could it be as perfect as I claimed?"
After dinner Ginny rose from her seat and Draco rose with her. The gentlemanly manner was not lost on Ginny but she felt out of place with it. This behavior was not what she expected from him.
"Will you join me tomorrow? I don't wish to eat alone when I don't have to. I enjoyed your company."
If anyone else had been making the request but him Ginny would have complied. She was about to tell him no when he said something that stopped her.
"Please."
Not a question, a statement. Just a way of making his request more polite. Ginny nodded and left to clean the rest of the kitchen. It would be an interesting week.
* * *
As pleasant as the conversation was Ginny was feeling uncomfortable. She had gotten over her 'Ferret Boy complex' as Hermione called it, and now was taking in an assessment of him. Draco was attractive. When he smiled, which seemed to be often, Ginny blushed. When she went on a passionate tangent of her preference (usually cooking, music, or her discussions with Hermione on house elves) he listened. Not the polite nodding of his head and agreeing at the right spots, but he actually listened to her, making valid points and observations of her opinions when she was done. He was equally passionate about his businesses, feeling that they were the only way to save the Malfoy family name from the tarnish his father had placed on it. Ginny was enthralled. She learned that Narcissa didn't know the extent of his father's crimes and on the whole believed Lucius was framed.
Ginny was beginning to care. The Draco she was getting to know was different from the hateful child she had known at Hogwarts. Still arrogant and vain, but somehow his edges were softer. Ginny was seeing him as human.
It was on their forth dinner together that she told him she could not dine with him anymore. Her excuse was that the dinners were not 'professional'.
A/N: Le Martinque is a restaurant here in New Orleans that specializes in Caribbean/French food. I have never gotten a chance to go there but am hoping to, if I ever get a night off of work.
The meal Draco and Ginny share is comprised of three of my favorite things that we used to serve in my restaurant. The menu was changed since I wrote this and those slimy gits took the best things off the menu.