Unofficial Portkey Archive

Keep It Unclean

Chapter Four

'Darling,' Handsome whispered passionately, 'I don't think there's anyone quite as perfect as you.'

'Oh Ebenezer!' she sighed in heavenly delight. 'For you I would soar into the sky on waxen wings…'

Their bodies slowly gravitated towards each other; the magnetism of their love overcoming their sensibilities. It no longer mattered that an act of love such as this was improper. Deep in the jungle of the island they were hidden from the prying eyes of society, completely at the mercy of nature. Emerald could feel that the air was thick with primal lust and need. Her heart was beating so fast at the anticipation of a kiss that her knees felt weak. What was this dizzying emotion? Love?

'I will write you a sonnet,' he breathily murmured. 'That will describe every detail of you character, from your warmth to your undying charity. The way you helped those cannibalistic old men in the forest…it took my breath away.' Handsome grabbed her hand and drew it close to his heart. 'It doesn't matter to me what you look like. It's your soul that has stolen me. I am completely at your mercy…my love.'

Emerald sighed deeply - the sigh of a woman lost in her own emotions, unable to see anything but what she desires. His words touched her as no other words had. At that moment she knew that theirs was a love that would overcome all obstacles. As she leant forward to smother his sensuous lips with her own, he pulled back. 'No,' his face wore an anxious expression. 'I will not kiss those lips until I have finished my sonnet. Then when we kiss you will know the full extent of my love for you.'

'What!?' Emerald squeaked pulling away from him. 'You want me to wait until you've written a bloody poem?!'

'Sweetheart…'

Emerald gathered her skirts about her and gave Handsome a tempestuous look. 'And I thought you were a real man.'

'I thought you'd finished that?'

Ginny looked up from her typewriter to find Hermione standing at the door removing her coat. She frowned slightly at her friends sudden appearance and searched her memory. There was something she was missing here…

'I'm still working on uniting the characters emotionally, physically, mentally. Changing Handsome isn't working, so I tried to make Emerald the modern woman… Anyway, what are you doing here?'

'You've forgotten, haven't you?' Hermione asked with an amused smile.

'No…' Ginny responded edgily. 'I just momentarily misplaced the information.'

Hermione laughed gently and hugged her coat to her stomach. 'We're supposed to be having supper with your family tonight, remember? You said you didn't want to turn up on your own, so I said that I'd disapparate here before going to The Burrow. Is any of this familiar to you?'

'Oh bugger,' she muttered banging her forehead with the ball of her hand. 'I had completely forgotten. Merlin!'

'Good job I'm here then, isn't it?' Hermione shook her head wearily. 'What I suggest you do is quickly change, get your coat and we'll apparate to The Burrow before they start the main course. I'm sure your mum won't mind us missing the starter. Much.'

'Mum's going to kill me! I promised I wouldn't be late this time. Oh shitty crap!' Ginny pushed back from her desk and rose to her feet unsteadily. Her legs had gone numb from staying in one position for so long. Painfully she shook her legs and wiggled her toes in the hope that some feeling would return. 'I hate going to these things.'

'I know.'

'They cause more harm than good. I always leave there with a sense of inadequacy and self pity.'

'You could always make up some excuse,' Hermione suggested bluntly. 'Just say you've got a job. I'm sure they couldn't begrudge you work of some kind.'

'Oh, you don't know my mother very well then,' she said tightly. 'Anyway I would feel even worse if I didn't go. I can't take mum's emotional blackmail tactics. She makes me feel guilty for having a life of my own! She'll mention how lonely she is in the house and how she always thought she could rely on her only little girl. Oh, and there's the tearful recollections of giving birth to me and how, even though she'd been in agonising pain, she'd been so happy to have a girl.'

'Molly certainly knows how to get what she wants,' Hermione agreed. 'But she does love you.'

'Tough love,' Ginny muttered.

'Just imagine how your brothers must feel…'

'Don't remind me!' she groaned loudly. 'It'll be like the Spanish inquisition. The less I see of my so-called brothers, the more content and confident I am! Of course it will all start off innocently enough. They'll enquire about my life, always nodding in the appropriate places, and then they'll hit me with the boyfriend questions.' Ginny slowly walked through to her bedroom and threw open her wardrobe doors. 'I'll be flustered and non-responsive and then they'll all laugh. Oh poor Gin! Still single while we're all happily married/engaged/having an affair with the next door neighbour. What ever will we do with our silly little sister? And then mum will begin to get teary eyed and start bumbling on about her thinking me and Harry would be married by now. Like it's my fault he unceremoniously dumped me!'

'Maybe you're overreacting just a tad,' Hermione said softly, following Ginny into her bedroom and perching on the bed. 'They just worry about you. I know Ron's concerned about your future.'

'If Ron even mentions the boyfriend issue, it won't be my future he'll be worrying about,' she said venomously . She pulled out a long black skirt and held it up against her. 'What do you think?'

'Yeah, it's nice,' responded Hermione distractedly. 'Why don't you just lie to them then?'

'I've read the books. I know that those kind of fibs always catch up with you. I'd be forced to hire a male escort, who would end up falling madly in love with me but I'd be unable to accept his advances because I'd misconstrue them as part of the deal. Then, when the passion became too much for us, we'd be forced to consummate the relationship. Then I would have to confess to my whole family that I was in fact desperate enough to pay for a man. They would all judge me harshly, but I would be content because I had my man. However once we tried to have an honest relationship we'd both realise it would be impossible with his line of work. I'd become jealous and bitter, the love would die and I would end up alone without my boyfriend or my family,' Ginny said pushing her grotty jeans down her thighs and kicking them off in the direction of her laundry basket. 'So you see, I could never pretend to have a boyfriend because there's nothing to gain from it,' she said triumphantly as her jeans hit the wall and slid into the goal. 'It's not worth the hassle.'

She turned to her friend with a flourish and realised that she might have taken the tale too far. Hermione's face was drawn into a confused, disbelieving look. It accused Ginny of being completely barking - which to some extent was completely true. 'I can tell that you've thought this idea through thoroughly.'

Ginny smiled slightly and, having slipped into her skirt, continued to flick through her clothes. There was a lot of truth to what Hermione had said; she did tend to hypothesis about relationships with anonymous men. Some people would say that it was daydreaming, but Ginny had always believed that these kind of fantasies should have happy endings. When she thought about these situations it was far more scientific. She would live out the relationship in her mind, always bringing it to the same conclusion; Ginny Weasley alone again. Maybe it was because she only had heartbreak to compare love to or maybe it was because she was a fatalist. Either way these imaginings were far from simple daydreams. They weren't even wishes. Just possibilities; endless and constant.

'I'm sure Emerald would never have this problem,' she mused with a sly smile as she pulled out a prim black top. 'I think I'll go as a spinster tonight.'

'Fabulous,' Hermione concurred.

***

'Who died?'

Ginny scowled at Ron in a manner that denied his very existence. Why was it that siblings were the people who brought out the worst in you? One minute she was carrying on as normal and the next she was transported back to a time of name calling and hair pulling. However there was one major difference now; they were all powerful witches and wizards and hair pulling was the least of their worries. Once Ron had levitated her off the floor and left her there all night. Of course she hadn't taken it lying down (no pun intended) and had avenged herself by putting a gluttony charm on him. When he finally stopped eating he was sick for three days and Ginny had felt a little guilty but not enough to warrant a reversal charm. But wasn't that how all twenty-something siblings acted? Probably not.

'Yes. I'm mourning for the loss of your single brain cell,' she threw back. 'Then again you've always been good at acting the mindless idiot.'

'Ouch,' Fred cut in. 'I hope you two aren't going to fight. I didn't bring my camera with me.'

George walked into the kitchen and seated himself next to Fred. 'What's this? Have they already started? I had bets on it taking at least nineteen minutes. It's only been three.'

'My money's on Ginny winning,' Fred said knowingly. 'She's got a mean right hook.'

'Gee,' Ron said with an increasingly red face, 'thanks for the support.'

The twins shrugged in unison. 'Not our problem.'

Looking down at her plate, Ginny pushed her food about with her fork. Coming home was always purgatory. It wasn't that she didn't love her family - she would die for them - but they had a habit of making her feel like a child. Her mum would always ask her how her life was and it hurt Ginny to be such a disappointment. There had been such high hopes for Ginny when she'd left Hogwarts; Bill was working at Gringotts, Charlie had his dragons, Percy was a respected member of the Ministry of Magic, the twins had their own joke shop and Ron was playing professional Quidditch. Molly had a brood of successful boys and wanted to add another jewel to her crown in the form of Ginny. However she had had other plans. A succession of jobs followed, each one more a failure in her eyes. Her only hope in joining her brothers in stability was to get her book published. After all, being an author was a respectable enough career.

Ron was the worst of the bunch. They had always been close as children and although they weren't always amicable towards each other they loved one another. At Hogwarts they had looked out for one another, ensuring that danger was never faced alone. When Voldemort had been defeated at the Battle of the Weir Ron became a man. He had seen a lot of pain and misery in his short life and his perspective changed. He lived for living. Harry, Ron and Hermione had become inseparable during their school years, but now it was over they all had to go separate ways. Harry had continued his fight for peace by joining the Aurors and Ginny had been his willing companion. However she had still been at school and it had been hard to see one another. When she left all that changed and they soon moved in with one another. Ron had been happy to see his sister with a man who was trustworthy and honest. They had made a great team.

The break up had really shaken Ron. He had been happily unaware of their problems, believing that they were the model couple. Whilst he was away on Quidditch tours, he had nothing to worry about because Ginny had Harry to look after her. It was almost as if he had been freed of his brotherly duties. Then one day he returned home to find Ginny sitting on his couch, alone and crying. She didn't know why she had gone to Ron; it had seemed natural at the time. What she hadn't thought was that Ron was Harry's friend. He had comforted her as best he could - he allowed her to sleep on his couch until she could sort out somewhere else to live - but there was a heavy weight on his heart. How could Harry betray him like this?

Ginny had realised soon after the separation that Ron was not happy. He was concerned about his sister, unable to comfort her because his friend was the one who broke her heart. To this day she believed that he felt some sort of responsibility for the whole thing. He was now unable to be himself with Harry, afraid that he would upset either his friend or his sister. Ginny knew that they would never be the same until she managed to move on from Harry. That was the problem.

'So Ginny, love, what have you been up to?' Molly asked from her seat at the head of the table.

Merlin, the dreaded question.

'Erm…' Ginny mumbled, looking up to find the whole table looking at her expectantly. 'Well…'

'Yes?' Molly continued with a hopeful smile.

'I've been to the publishers about my book,' she said anxiously. 'They're definitely thinking of having it published.'

'Definitely thinking?' Ron said, a frown creasing his face. 'You don't sound too sure about that.'

'Ron does have a point,' Fred agreed. 'What did they say to you about it?'

'Oh,' her eyes returned to her plate, 'they just want a couple of plot tweaks to make it more commercial.'

Silence settled across the table and everyone pretended not to notice the uncomfortable tension. Forks scraped across plates, people shifted about in their chairs and somewhere outside a cat was wailing. As she looked up she noticed that everyone was absorbed in their food. A family that eats together stays together, she thought bitterly. What a load of crap. In Ginny's opinion food was just a diversion from actual talking; a bit like a cup of tea being a way to solve all problems. As long as people had their mouths full then they couldn't worry about anything that was happening.

'This is really good,' Hermione said as brightly as possible. 'I'm sure Bill and Charlie will be disappointed they missed it.'

'Ah, yes,' Molly warmly murmured. 'They're such good boys and they try to come home as often as possible but they're both incredibly busy. Bill just got a promotion at Gringotts and we're all so proud of him.'

The room went silent again. Ginny sighed inwardly and shovelled some mashed potato onto her fork. If you can't beat them, join them. Attentively she chewed down her mouthful. It was amazing how a potato could taste so different depending on how it was cooked. She was pretty sure there was a metaphor somewhere in that thought.

'Got a boyfriend yet then?' Ron asked as casually as he could. It was obvious to everyone there that he'd been waiting to ask it since she arrived. Typically he always waited until half way through the meal. Maybe that way he wouldn't spoil the whole evening for Molly.

Ginny put her fork down neatly by the side of her plate and took a deep breath. Silently she composed herself, aware that yet again all eyes were on her. 'Ronald,' she said with a disarming gentility, 'I don't believe that is any of your business.'

'That's a no then,' Ron chuckled. 'There's no need to be coy about it.'

'Ron…' Hermione warned, glancing at Ginny sympathetically.

'Don't chastise your sister,' Molly said primly. 'If she wants to keep secrets then let her.'

'I'm not keeping secrets,' she looked sharply at her mother, aware that the exact opposite was being implied. 'I simply don't see how my love life is important. All around the world people are suffering from diseases, poverty, starvation, no clean water. Surely these things are far more important? But all Ron wants to know is gossip about my life. He seems to think that I need a boyfriend. Everyone needs clean water - no one's ever died of a broken heart.'

'Don't be so pedantic, Ginny. Your brother is merely concerned about your well-being,' Molly put down her knife and fork and gave Ginny a hard look. 'Everyone is.'

'Ah,' she replied quietly. 'Well if that's the case then can I ask Ron when the last time he got laid was?'

Molly was silent, watching her daughter blankly. 'Have it your own way Ginny,' she said before rising from the table and walking out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Ginny picked up her fork and began to eat the rest of her food. She knew she'd overstepped the mark and hurt her mother's feelings, but didn't they see how hypocritical they were being? There's being concerned and being overbearing. She didn't want them to tell her how to improve her life and she didn't want their pity. Maybe it was an ungrateful way of thinking but she wasn't going to be nice for the sake of it. After all, wasn't it better to be honest?

'Cup of tea anyone?' George asked cautiously.

***

The evening had gone on without anymore outbursts from her family. Once Molly had left the kitchen they had amicably spoken about work and family. George talked excitedly about becoming a father and bringing a new Weasley into the world whilst Hermione discussed the economy with Fred. Ron had eventually spoken to Ginny, asking her to pass the custard and apologising for being an arse. She had returned the sentiment; yes he was an arse, but that couldn't be helped. They had smiled at one another and already the whole fiasco was forgotten. However Molly never returned to the kitchen. Fred, George and Ron went in search of her, leaving Hermione and Ginny alone.

'Don't,' Ginny said with a sad smile. 'I know I shouldn't have said what I did.'

'I wasn't going to say a word. I was going to ask how it went with Malfoy earlier,' Hermione assured her friend as she set up a spell to do the washing up. The pots suddenly burst into life, scrubbing and scraping themselves clean. 'Did you manage to see him?'

'Yeah,' she rolled her eyes, 'unfortunately I did.'

'Aw,' Hermione turned and leant against the kitchen counter. 'I really thought his ego would be big enough that he'd say yes.'

'Oh, that's the problem. He said yes.'

'Then where's the problem?'

Ginny pursed her lips. 'We made a deal that I would work for him double the amount of time he spoke to me. Which means that I'm now an unpaid slave to His Majesty's whims..'

Hermione's eyes widened, a questioning look contorting her face so it resembled a surprised squirrel. 'I hope we're not talking about anything suspect here…?'

'Merlin, no!' she laughed. 'I would rather die than be Malfoy's sex slave. Eurgh. I don't even want to think about what he looks like naked! I made it perfectly clear that this was strictly a business matter. I specifically said there would be nothing involving sexual favours, public humiliation or excretion.'

'Excretion…?'

'I don't like it. Smells awful. Makes me feel sick.'

'Right…'

'Anyway the so-called lessons start tomorrow morning. I'm supposed to go to his office at nine and he's going to tell me all about being a womanising bastard. Not the best way to spend a morning…but it could be worse.'

'How so?'

She thought for a moment and gave a shrug. 'Death, famine, plague.'

'Just don't tell him that,' Hermione said with a laugh, 'his ego's already big enough.'

***

Merlin, she thought, this chair is bloody uncomfortable.

Having risen at eight o'clock, Ginny was not in the best of moods. As if it wasn't bad enough that she had to get up so hideously early, she was faced with the awful prospect of facing Malfoy and then to add insult to injury he was late! She had made sure that she was five minutes early, eager not to get into any trouble with him, and had even chosen apparation over walking. On arriving however he was nowhere to be seen. Phyllis had made excuses for him - 'He is very important, don't you know?' - but Ginny knew the real reason. He was torturing her. He knew she was desperate for input and that she'd wait as long as it took, unhappy as she may be.

'Are you sure he said nine o'clock?' Phyllis asked putting down her copy of I Want To Spoon You and running a podgy finger down its spine. 'It's unlike him to be late.'

'Really?' Ginny asked disbelievingly. She was trying desperately not to look at Phyllis' top lip which was dark with hair.

'He's always on time,' she nodded confidently. 'In fact he loathes lateness. Says it's the crime of mankind.'

She couldn't help but snort. 'Hypocrite.'

Phyllis eyed Ginny suspiciously. 'I know this may seem an impertinent question…but why is it you're here? I would have thought after the scene you caused yesterday he'd have had you barred. No offence intended.'

'None taken,' she said bluntly, shifting about on her chair. 'I actually don't know. I think I irritated him into seeing me.'

'I thought that must be the case. He's very susceptible to other people's emotions.'

'Are we talking about the same man?'

Phyllis nodded again. Ginny smiled to herself; Phyllis looked like a nodding dog. Obviously she was dedicated to Malfoy. Maybe she even believed herself to be in love with him. Could it be that Malfoy was right when he said that reading romantic novels was killing brain cells? That was the only explanation for such dedication. Either that or Malfoy was an incredibly good actor. 'So is he a good boss then?'

'Oh, yes. He looks after his staff.'

Ginny tried to stop herself from nodding; it was so easy to pick up other people's habits. It was obvious that Malfoy was a treat them mean, keep them keen kind of a man.

The sound of the door hitting the wall sounded his arrival. 'Weasley. Office. Now,' Malfoy stated as he breezed through the reception area, a clothing bag clutched in one hand.

Obediently Ginny rose from her chair and gathered her bag into her arms. If this process was going to be relatively painless then she was going to have to behave herself. She had convinced herself that as long as she bit her tongue and avoided mentioning any family rivalries she'd manage to pull it off. All she had to do was breathe, count to ten and smile effortlessly. She was itching to ask him why he had kept her waiting. It was deeply frustrating that this would seem rude.

'I kept you waiting because, unlike some people, I had other things to do,' he said without looking at her. 'Nothing personal.'

She smiled sweetly. 'I didn't notice.'

'Of course not,' he chuckled to himself and hung the clothing bag on the shelves. As he unzipped the bag Ginny noticed that it contained a grey tailored Muggle suit. It was amazing how one man could be so many contradictions; on one hand he was the head of a fiercely anti-Muggle family and on the other he was wearing their clothes. If she wasn't trying to be nice then she would have questioned his choice of clothing, but again that might come across as rude. In the long run it was best just to keep quiet. With this in mind she silently seated herself in the chair opposite the desk.

He ran his fingers over the material, scrutinising it for signs of error. 'Going on a date is like having a business meeting,' he said gently. 'It's all a matter of different horses for different courses.'

'Excuse me?'

He glanced towards her with eyebrows raised. 'I didn't realise you had impaired hearing.'

Ginny gritted her teeth together and tried to keep a stable smile on her face. It wasn't an easy task - already she could feel the strain on her cheek muscles. This must be how her mother felt every time she was faced with an over eager Fleur. 'Please could you expand upon your theory?'

'A horse that runs well on a dry course will run less well on a damp course and vice versa,' he said turning back to his suit and removing it fully from the bag. Ginny watched curiously as he hung it upon the bookcase, smoothing the material out with his hand and dumping the bag on the floor. There were people who dumped and people who folded - she certainly did not have him down as a man who didn't care. Shaking her head slightly she tried to focus on what he was saying and not what he was doing. His hands were in constant motion and she was beginning to find them very distracting. 'It's a case of modifying a course of action slightly from the original to allow for altered circumstances. Are you keeping up?'

'Erm..' she rooted around in her bag and pulled out a note pad and pen. 'I think so,' she muttered scribbling down the phrase before she forgot it. 'You're saying that women are like horses…?'

He sighed heavily. 'No Weasley. I'm saying that there are certain occasions where a change of taste, clothing or manner are required. For example in business you need to be sensitive to the cultures of the people you're working with. This suit has a purpose,' he said gesturing to it with a wave of his arm. 'I know that by wearing it I will automatically be appealing to my client. It gives the impression that I am a man of modern inclinations - I am not lead by the prejudices of the past. This suit, in essence, tells the client that my company is the one most dedicated to filling their needs. Of course this can also be reversed and I have a full set of formal robes for the more…distinguished members.'

As he spoke Ginny couldn't help but notice that he seemed to be removing his clothing. Without so much as a warning he had pulled off his jumper and dropped it to the floor. It lay discarded with the clothing bag like rejects from a bad porn movie. She marvelled with morbid fascination that his body wasn't as bad as she had previously envisioned. He was lean, but toned, with broad shoulders and a good height working in his favour. His chest was pale and covered in wisps of brilliant blonde hair that, in the morning sunshine, made his body look like a peach. Attentively he rubbed his fingers in tiny circles over the goose pimples appearing on his cold flesh. Leaning down he opened a drawer and pulled out a neatly folded shirt. He shook it out and slipped it over his arms. Ginny quickly averted her eyes and wondered whether this was just another means of making her feel uncomfortable. She certainly wouldn't put it past him.

'Even I have to admit that I'm not perfect,' he said running a palm over his chest idly. 'But with a few minor refinements can make me become anything I want to be. It's all about the way you allow yourself to be perceived and confidence. Just like a business meeting .'

Ginny nodded eagerly. Obviously this was how Phyllis had picked up the habit…

'Aren't you going to object?' Draco asked slowly buttoning up his shirt, too busy concentrating on the task at hand to look at her. His fingers toyed with each button, picking out the hole and then joining the two together. 'Aren't you going to reject the whole theory? Tell me that I shouldn't think of a date in terms of a business transaction?'

'Not at all,' she said sharply in an attempt to pull herself together. 'Although I think the metaphor may be a little derogatory, there's some semblance of rational thought in there. Everyone tries to be their best on a date. It's human nature.'

He smirked, finally bringing his focus back to her. 'I never said anything about trying to be my best.'

'You must have meant that though. Why on earth would you want to be at your worst?' Ginny frowned slightly. 'Surely that's the last thing you'd want to do when you're trying to make a good impression?'

'Not every woman wants that.'

Hah, she thought triumphantly, his best was probably as good as a bear with a sore head! Maybe he'd convinced himself that the worst thing he could possibly do was act the perfect gentleman, seeing as it went so against the grain.

'I'm sorry but I don't quite follow your meaning,' she said in what she hoped was innocence personified.

'Human nature has a tendency to mimic the actions of a chameleon. Depending on who you're with it's natural that you'll act in different ways. It's one of the great flaws of the ideal romance. Women say that they want a man who will be himself, but that is almost an impossible thing to achieve in such a short space of time. People do not reveal themselves instantly, it's something that has to be learnt. So we try to be the best person that we can be - which, if you think about it rationally, is a lie.' As he spoke Ginny watched his hands; they seemed to have a life of their own, twisting and fumbling about. 'What isn't considered is whether or not women truly want the real best of you. You see women tend to have an over active sense of romance. Each and every one has a set idea of what they want in a man and it's an ideal that only leads to general disappointment. They want the fantasy not the reality.'

'But that's just the same as mimicking the chameleon surely?'

'Not at all. Wouldn't you rather spend one night with a man who lives out your romantic fantasy? Or would you prefer a whole month of mediocre conversation?' he looked her straight in the eye, a slight smile curling his lips. 'I think the answer is obvious.'

She leaned back in her chair and observed him critically. 'How do you know what this ideal is if it changes from person to person?'

'Not "person", Weasley, "women". Men aren't quite so complicated.'

'Isn't that a little cruel on your own sex,' she laughed softly. 'You can't all be that bad.'

Draco cocked his head to one side and regarded her curiously. 'Why not?'

'Well…' she avoided his gaze and concentrated on the far corner of the wall. 'It's just impossible. Somewhere there must be a man who has some sense of genuine romance. For instance some of the greatest love poems and stories have been penned by men. Doesn't that prove that there's some real sentiment in men?'

'I agree that some men are more in tune with love as an emotion rather than an act. However I think you're wrong in your assumption that they feel it the same way females do. For men it's a lot simpler. Sex is essentially sex.'

'Right, but you still haven't answered my question.'

He glanced down at his watch and slouched lazily back in his chair. Absently he fiddled with a loose thread on the hem of his shirt and swung the chair from side to side. Ginny wondered whether he was still awake - his body was entirely still and his gaze was fixed on the pile of clothes on the floor. 'Are you sure you want me to answer that?' he asked with a sly smile. He looked like a small child who knew something he wasn't supposed to.

Ginny eyed his suspiciously. 'Why wouldn't I?'

'Because you won't like the answer,' he said simply.

'Shock me,' she rolled her eyes. Why was it he always tried to be so sensationalist? For a few minutes she'd actually forgotten that he was a complete jerk and had been interested in what he was saying. However reverting back to his juvenile self had broken the magic.

'Okay,' he straightened up and leant his elbow against the desk. 'I know what women want because I pay attention to detail and I understand that most fantasies are based in fairy tales. From your past relationship I know that you like to see yourself as a damsel in distress. You want to feel safe and secure because you've been hurt in the past. However this hurt has caused you to become cynical of romance. Therefore I would have to reject it also in order to attract your attention. To cut a long, dull and boring story short, you want to be rescued from yourself - you need someone to experience this nothingness with you. Otherwise you'll become the person who sits alone in the bar, knowing rather than believing that this is it. Love and loneliness…'

'Stop,' Ginny laughed a little too loudly. 'You're talking out of your arse.'

Draco nodded his head and rose from his chair. 'Truth hurts.'

'You don't know me,' she said firmly. 'I'm not waiting to be rescued from myself! It's a ridiculous thought! Complete and utter nonsense. I haven't heard such bunkum since Mad Eye Moody told me I should take up knitting because it would improve my chances of snaring a mate!'

'Then where's the reason in denying it so much? You could have left it at the arse comment,' he smirked.

Ginny closed her eyes tightly and tried to remain calm. It couldn't be that Malfoy, of all people, understood her situation! It was just an act of suggestion. Already she could feel the seeds of self-doubt beginning to take root. She took a deep breath and clasped her hands together. Anyway there was no need to upset herself about it - it was just Malfoy hypothesising. His opinion didn't matter. She didn't care what he thought. Nope. He was not going to get at her. Then again…what if he was right? What if she was simply a damsel in distress? If she was stuck in a castle waiting around for the perfect man it certainly wouldn't happen. Reality wouldn't allow it. Or was this just her cynicism affecting her perception of romance? Argh!

'I have a meeting in half an hour that I need to prepare for,' he said with a serious, business like tone. 'We shall conclude today's meeting. However I would like to request that you allow me to read said novel. What's it called?'

'What?! Why?' she asked in panic.

'Because, although this may have passed your understanding, a title is fairly important to a book,' he said patiently.

'Oh. Right. No.'

'No?'

'No, you can't read it.'

He rose from his chair and regarded her down his nose. 'Anyone would think you didn't want to be published and read by complete strangers.'

Merlin. Crap. Shit. Bollocks.

'I don't see why these…sessions require you having read my book. I'd prefer it if we kept this arrangement simple. Anyway, it takes time to read a book and you're a very busy man.'

Draco moved towards the door at a speed that surprised Ginny. It wasn't that he was quick, it was more that he seemed to move in a very precise manner, almost as if he'd planned the whole routine with painstaking detail. 'I expect to see a copy on my desk tomorrow morning.'

'Hang on,' Ginny said indignantly. 'I just said that…'

'Tomorrow morning,' he cut in impatiently. 'I have an important meeting to attend to.'

Why is it I'm always being shown the door? With this thought she mustered all the dignity she could manage and sauntered over to the door, ensuring that she swung her hips in an authoritative way that she'd seen Hermione use to great affect. She held her head high and flicked her hair back. 'Fine, I will make sure you have a copy by tomorrow,' she said as though it had been her suggestion all along.

'Good,' he replied placing his hand at the base of her spine and gently guiding her out of the room. 'Oh, by the way, you'll need to wear something a lot more…practical tomorrow.'

'What?' However before she could get an answer from him the door was slammed shut. She pursed her lips and glared at the door.

'Arrogant, no good, pig!' she muttered under her breath. 'I'll show you!'