Unofficial Portkey Archive

Keep It Unclean

Chapter Seven

Emerald watched him as he crossed the room with panther ease. It had been a long and weary night working behind the bar - her hands were rough from the task of cleaning pint jars and slapping away the stray hands of the local riff-raff as they grabbed at her with their dirty paws. However none of this really gave her reason for concern as her mind had been elsewhere. She had been walking, almost floating, alongside the mysterious gentleman who had eyes like a storm at sea.

He had arrived the previous night and taken a room. Even though she had never spoken to him though Emerald was completely captivated by his rugged good looks. His face bore the scars of a life lived well; she could not take her eyes off them. With caution she had looked within the guest book to see his name. D. Calloway. She rolled the name about in her mouth and it tasted like nutmeg fantasies.

'Madam,' his voice reached into her very existence. 'Ale, please.'

Her hand gripped round the pump, knuckles white with the tension in her fingers. Slowly she pulled downward and the amber fluid dripped from the tap alluringly. She bit her bottom lip nervously, her eyes glancing up at him flirtatiously. He returned her gaze coolly unmoved by her good looks.

'Anything else?' she asked huskily.

A smile tilted his perfect mouth. 'You in my bed. Half an hour.'

Emerald's heartbeat quickened rapidly. 'Oh, sir! I…'

'What? You're not that kind of girl?' he chuckled softly. 'Come now, you must be able to think of a better reason than that.'

'Mr Calloway! I am not a prostitute available to the highest bidder!' her voice trembled with emotion. Part of her wished she could be that woman, just to be able to hold him for one heavenly hour. 'That'll be a pound please.'

She stuck her hand out to receive the money but instead she was pulled forward suddenly. His mouth was upon hers, forcefully shoving his…

Ginny paused and considered whether simply putting "tongue" would satisfy her publisher. She had a suspicion that something should be throbbing - or maybe pulsating - with lust for Emerald. Also could she get away with her leading lady contemplating prostitution? They would probably tell her that it would need to be cut. After all, what kind of example would that be setting to the target audience? These questions didn't change the fact that she was feeling particularly chipper about the new twist however. It had given her muse something of a lease of life. Ideas were pouring out of her imagination like rain from a cloud. The only problem was that not all of them were anywhere near good; they were half-baked plans with no real point. All she knew was that Dragon Calloway would be her saving grace.

She leaned back in her chair wearily. This wasn't getting her anywhere! Malfoy had said that the book needed more passion and spontaneity but she hadn't really experienced enough of either to write about it. No one had ever propositioned her in a bar or kissed her passionately simply because they wanted to. She had never even had a one night stand. Strangers always remained that way to her; strange.

Malfoy on the other hand had heaps of experience at his fingertips. Possibly literally. Not that she envied such frivolous ventures. No, she liked keeping herself to herself when it came to meeting people. Of course that did make it hard to actually do the latter part of that thought. Chatting up men had never exactly been her forte. Mostly it consisted of her being defensive about everything from the meaning of life to her shoe size.

What she needed was some light relief from all this writing business. She'd been working hard (ish) for at least forty minutes now and her fingers were starting to ache from typing. Anyway she needed to do some research. She needed to immerse herself in meaningful literature in order to be inspired. In other words a couple of trashy novels with no plot (and plenty of sex) needed to be read. And possibly a tub of fudge ice cream could be procured. Strictly because it was a brain food. Obviously.

***

The bookshop was surprisingly quite when Ginny got there. Barring the lack of people everything was as it always was. The bell tinkled happily as she opened the door, she was hit by the smell of new parchment and the gentle creaking of the bookshelves wrapped itself around her like a blanket. Ever since she had been a child she had held a lot of faith in bookshops; they were the safest place in the world. It was a mystical realm where you could hide away from reality, shake off your worries and for those precious few hours forget yourself. She had always held the strong belief that you could, literally, lose yourself in a good book.

Molly Weasley had always marvelled at the way in which her daughter had consumed literature like Ron did pumpkin pie. It had bemused her that there could be so much pleasure gained from words alone. Surely there was more fun to be had shopping or playing Quidditch with her brothers. Sometimes Ginny had spent whole days locked away in her room, as silent as a mouse, and it had worried Molly no end. Yet she had never been able to begrudge Ginny the happiness of a book. The way her face lit up with excitement was enough for Molly. There were worse things to lose a child to.

Ginny closed her eyes for a second, pushing away the thoughts of her first year at Hogwarts. That had been the only time in her entire life that she had lost faith in the written word. The diary had lied to her; it had stolen her innocence and youth and forced her to grow up before she was ready.

No. She wouldn't allow herself to ponder on it for too long. Opening her eyes, she focused on a nearby stand in an attempt to drive off the memories of dying. In some ways, she later thought, it had been a mistake for her eyes were met with the grotesque cover of the latest B.A. Sheep book; Be My Teapot. It was a painful title to say the least, but this was not the main cause for Ginny forgetting her previous woes. Splashed across the cover was a picture of a half naked woman desperately clutching a teapot to her heaving bosom.

'Tasteful,' Ginny murmured. Cautiously she stepped over to the stand and retrieved a copy of the book from its cardboard nook. The woman gazed up at her intently, oozing sex, pouting as if her life depended on it. Ginny's nose wrinkled slightly in disgust. This was exactly the thing she most wanted to avoid; exploitation of the female figure. Mister Barry America Sheep obviously had no scruples about selling his soul.

She turned the book over in her hands and studied the blurb.

"Locked in a loveless marriage, harassed by a petulant sister and pursued by the local psychiatrist, Petunia Brazil was beginning to feel as if her dreams were slipping away…until she meets the mysterious tea-merchant Mr T. Spoon. In a whirlwind of temptation and desire Petunia begins to realise that there's more to a cup of tea than meets the eye! But can she have her cake and eat it? The much anticipated novel from B.A. Sheep, the mind behind 'I Want To Spoon You', is now yours to treasure."

Ginny rolled her eyes and flipped to the back page. Her eyes scanned down it disinterestedly. What was the point of writing a book if the whole plot was summed up by the last paragraph? Mr. T. Spoon! Hah. Such a ridiculous name. What ever possessed the author to give his characters such cringe worthy names? You'd never see Ginny doing a thing like that.

'I never had you pinned as one of those erotic fiction types, Gin.'

She clutched her chest with a start and turned to see the person addressing her. 'Merlin, you almost gave me a heart attack,' she flustered. 'What are you doing here anyway? I thought you were allergic to books.'

'Oh ha ha,' Ron crossed his arms over his chest obviously not amused by her attempt at humour. 'Is that any way to greet your brother?'

'Hello Ronald,' she said with forced sweetness, stepping forward to put a sloppy kiss on his forehead.

'Eurgh,' he complained, wiping furiously at his skin with the back of his hand. 'You can be so gross sometimes!'

'Oh Ronald, I was only trying to give you an appropriate sisterly greeting,' she simpered.

'Don't call me that!'

'Ronald. Ronald. Ronald.'

Ron emitted a long suffering sigh, choosing to ignore baiting. 'The reason I'm here is because I've been wanting to have a little chat and saw you coming in here.'

'So you weren't stalking me then?'

'No. Should I have been?' there was a soft seriousness to his tone.

'What is that supposed to mean?'

'I know all about what you've been up to.'

Ginny's heart sunk in in her chest, pushing her stomach up into her throat. Ever since she had embarked upon her journey of discovery with Malfoy, she had known that her family must never know of their meetings. It wasn't that she was ashamed of herself…more like mortified actually. Part of her was filled with self-loathing at the fact that she'd become so dependant on Malfoy for help with her book. The thought of her parent's reaction was heartbreaking. They wouldn't cause a scene or complain. Her mother's eyes would cloud over and she would sip her tea inoffensively. Her father would tell her that it was her own life and who were they to interfere. But lurking at the back of their looks would be disappointment and that was the worst punishment of all.

'How could you even think that you could keep a scam like that from me?' he said with a wide grin.

'Erm…' Ginny gave him an uneasy smile. 'I haven't a clue…?'

'You should have seen the look on Harry's face when he told us! It was a classic,' his voice was filled with excitement. 'At first I was angry but then Hermione explained it all to me. Genius. Pure genius, Gin.'

A frown creased her forehead. What in hell's name did Harry have to do with Malfoy? A sense of relief began to wash over her. Maybe she hadn't been caught out lying. Not that she had lied. Just avoided certain unhealthy truths occasionally. That still didn't explain what he was talking about…

'Thanks,' she faltered slightly. 'I'm…just surprised Hermione told you.'

'Oh don't blame her, Gin, she had to tell me because I was acting like an idiot.'

'Nothing new there then,' she said automatically. 'How much did she tell you exactly?'

'Oh, enough for me to know that you're a genius! I never knew you had so much cunning in you,' he halted suddenly, a pained look on his face. 'I meant cunning in a good way.'

'Cunning…?'

'Yeah, cunning,' he said with a winning smile as he shoved his hands deep into his pockets. 'He was so incredibly jealous! I don't think he would have been more surprised had you told him you were joining a monastery.'

'Nunnery,' she corrected absently. 'Monks live in monasteries. They're men.'

'Same difference. Anyway I don't think it'll be long until he's banging on your door begging you to take him back. Especially if you pull another scene like I hear you did at The Ugly Bug Bar,' he rocked back on his heels merrily. He patted her arm as if she'd just caught the golden snitch and won a game of Quidditch. 'I always knew you two were meant to be together.'

The jigsaw of information within Ginny's mind clicked together and the relief that she had previously felt had suddenly vanished. Panic began to slowly climb up her throat and it took all her control to suppress her squeal of realisation. Hadn't that been the place she had gone with Malfoy? Hadn't he been waiting for someone who frequented the bar? Wasn't he eager to sit impossibly close? Didn't he kiss her there? She recalled his eyes flicking to something at the back of the room. Something she couldn't see. No, she thought firmly, don't let your imagination take over. He wouldn't have engineered something so dastardly…

'Yes,' she whispered to herself, 'he would.'

'Pardon?' he asked giving her a strange look.

'Nothing. Sorry,' she said calmly. 'So you really think my scam worked do you?'

'Certainly. I mean, obviously he was pissed off at first. He kept muttering on about how you'd desecrated the past happiness you'd shared and how you were mocking him. Seemed to take it all pretty personally,' he nodded his head enthusiastically. 'Haven't seen him so riled since…I can't remember. You must have known that pretending to be with Malfoy would make him jealous though! Utter genius.'

Ginny gave an uncontrollable bark of laughter and covered her mouth with her hand. 'Harry? Jealous?! Of Malfoy?'

Ron looked a little uncertain at that point. 'Wasn't that the plan?'

She pursed her lips together, wondering whether this was the time or the place to tell the truth. Her brain was all over the place at the moment. The whole situation seemed like something out of a dream. Not a favourite dream, but a dream nonetheless. Any second now Hermione would jump out from behind a bookshelf wearing a cat suit and singing about teapots.

'You know me,' she said vaguely.

A nauseous feeling was stirring up her insides uncomfortably. She darted past Ron, leaving the warmth of the shop. Her lungs filled with the painfully cold air. This was not happening. It couldn't possibly be happening. Ron was on her heels quickly, yakking on about how her plan was going to be such a great success. She knew he was asking her a question but she couldn't quite focus on the words. Something new was beginning to replace the panic and it's presence was bursting through her skin.

'What makes you think that I want Harry back?' she demanded, her voice cracking slightly against her will.

'Hermione said…'

'He broke my heart,' her voice pleaded desperately for him to understand her. 'He…he broke my heart.'

Ron's face was filled with concern and curiosity. 'I know.'

'Didn't you ever consider that I might be trying to exact some kind of revenge? Did it ever even enter your mind that I might want to cause him the pain he caused me? That it wasn't about getting him to come back to me?' she was filled with such an exquisite pang that she couldn't quite control herself.

'Hermione…'

'How could you think that I would want him back after what he did to me?' she swiped angrily at her eyes, trying to hold back the angry tears threatening to fall.

'Ginny, I don't understand what you're trying to tell me!' Ron put his hands on her shoulders and shook her gently. 'Hermione said that this was all a plan to get Harry back. I know you still love him. It makes sense that that's why you would kiss Malfoy, of all people, in public. Why else would you do that?'

'I didn't kiss him,' she defiantly mumbled. 'He kissed me.'

'What difference does it make? Harry saw and that's all that matters,' his voice was soothing. 'Now's your chance to have the love you deserve. Harry's sorry for what he did. I know he loves you. I know it. It would make us all so happy, Ginny, to see you two together again.'

She frowned slightly and shrugged off his hands. 'Why don't you bloody marry him then?!'

'Ginny…'

'No! You listen to me and listen hard. I want you to tell Harry that it's none of his business who I kiss. Tell him that if he even thinks about asking me to take him back that I will hex him so badly that he'll be in hospital for a year. For once in your flaming life don't let him convince you I didn't mean it because I bloody do. Don't let him tell you that he still loves me. I don't care. Love has nothing to do with it,' she took a deep breath. 'Now if you don't mind I have to go and paint some walls.'

'But…'

Ginny turned away from him, a determined look on her face. Someone was going to pay for this and she knew exactly who that would be.

***

The Malfoy's had always been an aristocratic and well moneyed family, who dined in the finest places and lived in largest. So when Ginny arrived in front of Malfoy's residence at two thirty she was slightly confounded by what lay before her. Instead of the stately home with crumbling walls she had expected, there was a simple red-brick town house with vines covering the whole front. Part of her was disappointed that he wasn't living some Dracula induced fantasy but she didn't let it bother her for long. She was a woman on a mission.

Walking up the steps she didn't feel in the least bit intimidated. Everything was relatively normal. Maybe a little too normal for her own taste. The door was black, smooth and shiny with a perfect large brass knocker placed centrally. It all seemed so ordered and neat. Her own distorted features glared at her in the reflection as she knocked.

Two seconds later the door was opened. She was a little dismayed to find that instead of some ancient butler, who she could make a scene in front of, Malfoy was the one who answered. He was wearing a neat shirt which had obviously just been put on and it was such a bright white that Ginny couldn't look directly at it without squinting. Instead she looked down and found that he was barefoot.

'Weasley,' Malfoy said shortly. 'You're early.'

'I am,' she said defiantly, averting her eyes to his face.

'I'm glad you've noticed that. Come back in half an hour,' he said with a smile and slammed the door shut.

Ginny's eyes narrowed irritably. There was no way he was going to wriggle his way out of this. He had some explaining to do and it didn't matter how early she was. Her hand quickly went back to the knocker but before she could slam it home the door opened again, catching her a little off balance.

'You are persistent aren't you?' he drawled lazily leaning the side of his head against the doorjamb. 'What could possibly be so important that you'd come early? Let me think…'

'You…' she began threateningly, her arms crossed defensively.

'Hush now,' he brought a finger up to her lips to silence her. 'Now it couldn't possibly be because you want to spend more time with me, or because you couldn't wait to get started on the painting. So I can probably assume that you're here to berate me.' The corner of his mouth tilted slightly into a smile. 'Of course. Potter.'

Pushing his hand aside, she barged past him into the house. Her upbringing meant that she refused to have confrontations on people's doorsteps. It just wasn't dignified or polite. Malfoy didn't resist her actions and closed the door behind them. She bounced from one foot to the other, angry that he'd managed to reach a conclusion before she'd made her accusations. She wanted to be the director of all the drama.

'You knew that he was there that night, didn't you?' she asked loudly.

'I wouldn't believe you naïve enough to think I didn't,' he responded smoothly. 'So I won't insult your intelligence by denying it.'

'Why?' she demanded.

He leant back against the door casually, his arms folding across his chest almost to imitate her own stance. 'Why not?'

'That isn't answering the question as you damn well know.'

'I don't have to answer to you Weasley,' his voice was maddeningly casual.

'Did you plan it beforehand?'

'Probably.'

'For Merlin's sake! Can't you ever just give a straight answer?!' she ran her hand through her hair in frustration.

'Maybe,' he was smiling now. 'Maybe not.'

Ginny took a deep breath in to try and calm herself down. She was not going to let him get the better of her. 'So you thought it would be funny to let my ex-boyfriend see us kissing?'

'We weren't kissing. I was kissing you. There's a difference.'

Her eyes narrowed. Hadn't she said something very similar several times before? 'You know what I mean.'

'How can it be my fault that he misinterpreted the situation? I don't see why you're cross with me.' He pushed away from the door and walked towards her, stopping when they were almost touching. 'I bet he loved every second of it. The arrogant prick probably assumed it was all about him.'

She looked up at him and decided that he was trying to intimidate her with his height and proximity. Although it did make her feel uncomfortable, she stood her ground. 'Don't you think that's a bit like the pot calling the kettle black?' she asked haughtily.

Malfoy smirked. 'How did you find out that he saw us?'

'My brother thought he would pop by to tell me what a genius I was,' she said coldly. 'Apparently everyone's under the delusion that I'm trying to win Harry back by prostituting myself to a bastard like yourself.'

'I'll have you know that I was born within wedlock,' his tone was jovial, but there was a dangerous edge to what he said. 'So maybe you should put more thought into the next insult you throw at me.'

'Why did you do it? Do you get some sort of sick pleasure from meddling in other people's lives?'

'Not in the least,' he said simply. 'I just thought it would be amusing to see the look on his face. Which, by the way, it really was.'

Ginny felt her palms itching and smiled slightly. With one swift arc she brought her hand round and slapped him hard across the face. The crack of skin and air colliding echoed around the room. There was a certain amount of gratification to the pain that shot through her hand. She shook it out by her side and looked up at him. A ferocious red mark glowed on his cheek merrily. It struck her as strange that he had not flinched, almost as if he had been expecting her to hit him the whole time. His eyes were intently staring at her, his face a complete blank. The room was verging on silent with only the sound of their breathing and the ticking of a far off clock breaking through. Ginny bit inside of her lip angrily. Grey, she couldn't help thinking, grey eyes. They were so close she could see the lightning forks of colour framing his iris. Completely, wonderfully, grey.

What to do now? Run. She broke eye contact and brushed past him on her way to the door. Her desire for flight, however, was ambushed by the strong grip that was suddenly on her upper arm. She winced slightly and turned her head to face him. For a second she thought he was going to say something; his lips were parted and yet no sound came. They just looked at one another unashamedly. Oh Merlin, she thought, don't think what you're thinking Ginny. Don't let yourself even begin to wonder what it would be like to…

His grip loosened on her arm and after a couple of seconds it was gone completely. She watched as his hand swung gently by his side, his fingers flexed. Not once did his eyes leave her face. Grey. She met them for a split second before retreating to the door. Her hand touched the cold metal of the handle and turned it. The door creaked open a crack and an imperceptible breeze crawled over her skin wearily.

Why are you pausing? Leave. Get out. Go.

Suddenly he was there again, close, turning her round and pushing her against the door, making it slam shut. He was staring at her but she refused to meet his gaze this time. The floor, the ceiling, the red mark on his face; her heart was pounding against her rib cage as if trying to escape. She could feel his breath moving a strand of hair against her face, slow and rhythmic. He moved a fraction so their bodies were touching completely. Somehow his hand had made its way to her face without her noticing. Her mind seemed to bury itself with the thought of his fingers stroking her against her temple lightly. Crap, shit, bollocks - a not entirely clean mantra, but she couldn't stop herself.

'Shouldn't have done that,' she mumbled incoherently. 'Have to go now.'

'Kiss me,' he whispered harshly against her skin.

Their noses were touching now. His lips were near to hers but he did not kiss her. The anticipation was almost killing her. It wasn't that she wanted this to happen but there was something about what was happening that was completely addictive. At the back of her mind she knew it was all a game. She couldn't pull back though because she had to know what it would feel like. Quickly she closed her eyes and pressed her mouth against his.

What happened next she couldn't even describe in her mind. It was all a jumble of feelings, textures and tastes. The coarseness of his stubble as it roughly connected with her face and the exasperating feeling of saliva on her skin. A slightly sweet taste in her mouth from their rough kisses. The sensation of being compressed by his body. Her skirt hem cut into her thighs awkwardly as he tried to manoeuvre his hand to a more appropriate location. She felt herself almost humming with the energy surrounding him, yet couldn't put one coherent thought together. All that mattered was that his hands seemed to be everywhere; pulling her hair, cradling her neck, tracing the curve of her hip, pulling at her clothing.

Merlin, he was a good kisser.

It took her a while to realise that Malfoy wasn't the only one making all the moves. Her hands had made their way down his chest, tugging at the impossible buckle of his belt. Why was it that men's clothes had to be so inaccessible?

That was the moment it all stopped. She knew it the moment her mind had wondered onto the inadequacies of male clothing. His attentions came to a grinding halt, as if he could sense that the fog in her mind was beginning to lift. Malfoy stepped back, his breathing ragged and loud in the empty hall. She opened her eyes and observed the state he was in as if a complete stranger - she felt completely detached from the scene before her. His shirt was half open, his hair awry and the mark on his face seemed more vivid now than it had before.

'No,' he said firmly and, with a quick turn, left the room.

Ginny took a deep breath, leant heavily against the front door and blinked a couple of times just to make sure she was actually awake. Yes, she seemed to still have all her faculties. With this revelation however came the deep cut of rejection. Had Malfoy, known for being a complete cad, just stopped himself from having sex with her? This inevitably led to a certain amount of self-questioning. She realised it would seem irrational to an outsider, but she couldn't help asking what was so wrong with her. What was it about her that repulsed him so much?

Overcome with the same sense of anger she had felt before, she stormed after him and found herself in a small kitchen. Malfoy was close to the door, leaning against a worktop and pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

'What the hell just happened?!' she shouted angrily, jabbing him in the chest with a finger.

'Weasley…' he grabbed her hand. 'Don't push me.'

'Me?! Push you?!' she spluttered angrily. 'You just had your bloody tongue down my throat and your hand up my skirt, and you don't want me to push you?! Men!'

'I know this may be difficult for you to grasp, but what just happened was a mistake.'

'A mistake?'

'Yes.'

'Fabulous. A mistake. Great,' she said sarcastically. 'What bothers me is that it's never stopped you before. What makes this different?'

Malfoy let go of her hand and took a step back. 'I don't love you,' he said frankly.

'What!?'

'I don't love you.'

'Merlin Malfoy! What did you expect me to think? We've only just really kissed!' she turned away from him and rubbed her forehead with her hand. 'I wasn't expecting a proposal or anything.'

'This isn't what you want.'

'Bollocks. This is your emotional involvement theory again, isn't it?' Ginny glanced back at him began to pace. 'You've convinced yourself that all women are looking for commitment and therefore you can't even contemplate shagging me.'

'No,' he said sternly, 'not all women are looking for commitment.'

'Then what's the problem?!'

'You're not all women. I…' he paused with a sigh. 'This is difficult to explain.'

She spun to face him. 'Try.'

'With you it isn't just a case of sex. If I sleep with you I'm crossing some sort of boundary. I've seen how you think. You've seen how I think. Worse, in fact, is the fact that you know I know what you want. I can't be a surrogate hero for you and you certainly can't be a whore for me. We'd be using one another for the wrong reasons. Then in the morning I'd have to lie to you because…'

'Sorry, but I think you're going to need a bit more specific,' she said with an irritable glare. 'We aren't going to sleep together because you don't want to lie to me?'

'We only really lie to the people we don't want to hurt and I have no right to hurt you. I'm not your lover or your friend. I'm not part of your family. I'm an acquaintance. Hurting you wouldn't be my place.'

'And this isn't hurting me?'

'No. This is breaking it to you gently.'

It was as if something within her cracked. All of a sudden she was unable to contain the laughter that was welling up within her. It ripped open the seams of her existence and she giggled as if there was no tomorrow. Draco watched her with horrified curiosity. 'What's so funny?'

'You are!' she said between hiccupped breaths. 'I never thought I'd see the day when you took sex so seriously! Bugger me, it's hysterical if you think about it.'

He frowned. 'I don't see the funny part.'

'Don't you? It's like we've switched places. I'm the one wanting to have promiscuous sex! Me!' she put her hand to her mouth and smiled. 'Sex. Never knew I had it in me to even say that out loud. I always thought I'd be sensible with my body and only give it away to really deserving individuals. I was, in essence, waiting for something to happen my entire life. You were right about that, by the way. I waited for Harry to love me. I waited for him to come back to me. I waited for my novel to make my life better. And do you know what I've just realised? That waiting is a bloody bore. Life passes you by so quickly and you're still waiting for the phone to ring. Surely you must see what's happened…'

'I'm sure you'll enlighten me.'

'You've just been proven correct Mr Malfoy,' she said gently. 'Passion isn't something that can be planned or contained or explained away. I've just realised that this isn't about romance or love. We don't even like one another! We're just satisfying a need…'

Ginny smiled to herself and dropped her shoes to the floor. Slowly she slid her feet into them and straightened out her attire. She ran a hand through her tousled hair aware that Malfoy was watching her every move carefully. Taking a deep breath she held her hand out towards him. He took it hesitantly and she shook it firmly.

'It has been such a pleasure doing business with you,' she said in her most professional voice. 'Goodbye.'

Not once did she look back. It was time to move on. Ginny Weasley had a book to finish.