Unofficial Portkey Archive

Something's Gotta Give by MeiQueen
EPUB MOBI HTML Text

Something's Gotta Give

MeiQueen

-

Something's Gotta Give Mei Queen

-

Authoress' Note: I did this chapter in a DAY! Oh my goodness, I'm feeling astonishingly proud of myself at the moment. Yay!

-

RECAP-

SecretDragon- Red?

SecretDragon- All right, I've waited for hours for you to check this, so I'm guessing you're not going to. But I just needed to get something out…

SecretDragon- I love you.

***Ravishing Red, your friend SecretDragon has logged off the Chat at 1:08 hours. ***

-

Chapter 6: Damage Control

-

Head. Pounding. Very painful. Need...tea. Or a bottle of Vicodin...mmm...Vicodin sounds quite nice right about now, Ginny moaned silently, clutching her hands to her pounding head in agony. Ginny Weasley had had a few hangovers in her day (thanks mostly to her brothers, who were always very overeager when pouring her drinks), but this one took the cake. When she got up to walk toward the kitchen and put the kettle on, it felt like with each step, her head was being squeezed just a little bit tighter in an invisible vice. She got to the kitchen, poured water in the kettle, and switched on the burner before her stomach began to churn in perfect time with the pounding of her head. Oh, bugger. That can't be good.

The redhead sprinted for the loo, got sick, and then spent the majority of the next twenty minutes just leaning on the porcelain, desperate for this excruciating pain of a morning to end. Finally, she started feeling a bit better, and then ran to the kitchen (the kettle had been wailing for over five minutes, so water was beginning to boil over on to the oven). Cursing softly and picking up a handtowel to clean up the mess, her ears picked up a sound.

Whirring.

Jaw dropping in shock; she looked over at her laptop computer, sitting open on the counter. The screen was black, but the power light at the bottom was happily blinking a bright green. Shit. I left it on...what was I doing when I left it, anyway? Oh, right. I was in Chat, logging on, and then...what did happen then? Oh, yes...Harry arrived. Why isn't Harry here? How did I get in bed? Oh. Hermione and Luna. Right. But then...what happened to the Chat window? What if someone tried to talk to me? Someone like...

Shaking the mouse to jog the screen, Ginny was met with the PM window of the night before.

-

SecretDragon- Red?

SecretDragon- All right, I've waited for hours for you to check this, so I'm guessing you're not going to. But I just needed to get something out…

SecretDragon- I love you.

***Ravishing Red, your friend SecretDragon has logged off the Chat at 1:08 hours. ***

-

Ginny stared at the screen in shock. Oh, dear. He...loves me? SecretDragon, Draco sodding Malfoy, loves me?

Suddenly Ginny felt even sicker than she had when she was hugging the toilet.

-

Draco Malfoy shook his head, trying to concentrate on the board meeting he'd been in for almost ten minutes, nine of which he'd been staring absentmindedly out the window. He was beginning to realize just how unnecessary he was at these things. Most of his companies had the brains and the drive to run themselves, Draco just insisted upon being there to oversee them. But the young Malfoy was beginning to realize just how much he would love a day off. Perhaps a little mini-vacation, if nothing else than to forget (if only for a moment) about RavishingRed, and the fact that she didn't reply to his e-mail, or to his Chat conversation of the night before. Last night, Draco went to bed feeling extraordinarily vulnerable, an unusual emotion for the young Malfoy. He had never told anyone of the female persuasion (except, on rare occasion, his mother), that he loved them. It showed too much of an attachment. Besides, the women that Draco was used to were just waiting for those magical words to prove that they had hooked one of the wizarding world's most eligible (and unbelievably rich) bachelors. RavishingRed was different, Draco knew that instinctually. She didn't seem too interested in what he did, or whether he made much money at it. She was the type of person who loved someone for who they were and what they were about, and she had forced him to fall into that kind of love with her.

The blonde man sighed, forcing his gaze away from the beautiful blue skies outside, and back into the dull conference. The vice president of accounting had been droning on about the company's customer base statistics for the entire meeting so far, and Draco was growing very impatient. Tapping his foot on the plush carpeting, his gaze travelled around the room, finally landing on the president, a friend from his schooldays, Blaise Zabini.

Blaise's eyebrow rose at Draco's impatience, as normally Draco would have a pad out and be making careful notes about the company's statistics and the performance of the employees. But today, Draco had barely touched the yellow legal pad and quill laid so thoughtfully at his chair. I might as well leave, the blonde thought irritably. There's no point in my presence...I don't really even need to know these statistics in the first place. Besides...skiving off work for a day might do wonders for my mental health.

"Excuse me, Dennis," Draco murmured, nodding at the vice-president. The man had stopped midstream through his presentation in shock at seeing Draco begin to rise from his chair, as Draco Malfoy had never so much as gotten up to use the loo during a meeting, let alone left during one. "I have important matters to tend to today. Please carry on, Dennis, your presentation has been wonderful."

A few employees raised eyebrows at one another. Draco Malfoy, praising an employee? "It seems like somebody actually woke up on the right side of the bed for once," the secretaries murmured, smiling.

-

Draco strode confidently through the company's foyer, and then nodded at the doorman. Stepping through the double glass doors, he took a deep breath of the fresh morning air. It's about time I gave myself a day off, he thought with a grin. It was then that Draco realized a minor flaw with his plan- he had no idea what he wanted to do. Hmm, the blond thought to himself, beginning to stroll toward downtown, where bustling morning shopping was already taking place. Perhaps I'll browse some stores. Yes, that sounds nice, he decided, heading for one of the most large and impressive in the area, Bartleby's.

-

Oh, bugger, Ginny thought in exasperation, still staring at the chat window. I still need to reply to him. I can't just disappear...I owe it to him to provide an explanation. But the question is- do I tell him the truth?

Opening up her e-mail account, she clicked on Draco's message.

Red-

Hey. What happened today? I thought we were meeting at Serendipity at 3…did we get our signals crossed, or did you actually stand me up? Write me back. Soon.

-SD

Clicking to reply, she carefully decided what she wanted to say. Steeling her reserve, she lowered her fingers to the keyboard. Finishing up her e-mail to Draco and pressing Send, Ginny Weasley's thoughts were then interrupted by the ringing of the phone. Gingerly picking up the receiver, Ginny was met with the irritated voice of Fred and George's overworked assistant, Natalie Wyndham. "Miss Weasley?"

"Hey Natalie," Ginny replied with a grin. "How's it going?"

Natalie exhaled a deep breath. "Not so great. Your brothers forgot your mum's birthday again. I've contacted Ron, Harry, Bill and Fleur, and I've been attempting to get a hold of Charlie the majority of the morning. Fred and George want to do a joint present from all the siblings, and they want me to give you the money to go pick it out."

Ginny rolled her eyes. Not again. I got stuck on present duty last year...and they didn't even give me any suggestions!

"Did anyone give you any ideas as to what I'm supposed to get her, Nat?" Ginny asked, though she was fairly sure she already knew the answer.

Natalie sighed. "Nope. Sorry. Anyway, just stop on by the WWW, Inc. office sometime this afternoon, and I'll have a check ready."

"Great."

-

What should I get Mum? Ginny thought in irritation, driving downtown to where the more bustling shops were. She had already stopped by the WWW, Inc (Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, Incorporated) office to get the check (which combined with her money, equalled a total of four hundred pounds), and was now headed for the shops.

Parking her car haphazardly on the side of the road, Ginny hopped out and headed for the one store in the area that was sure to have anything she might need for her mother's gift- Bartleby's.

Ginny nodded in thanks to the doorman as he held one of the impressive glass double doors for her. Walking in, the redhead smiled at the beautiful store's ground floor. A small coffee bar tucked in to the right caught her eye. Well, since I'm really in no hurry, she thought with a smile, turning and walking over to the bar.

After ordering from a very handsome barista, Ginny took a seat near the window to wait for her drink to be called.

Finally, she heard her name, and retrieved her cappuccino from the bar. Turning to go back to her seat, she collided with a very impatient stranger, splashing piping hot coffee all down her front.

"I'm sorry!" an oddly familiar male voice exclaimed. Ginny's downward gaze noticed his expensive Italian shoes walking up to the bar for some napkins.

"Bloody hell," Ginny cursed softly, looking down at the damage. As if to add insult to injury, the redhead had worn an exquisite white blouse that morning, white that had now gone a murky brown colour. Bugger. I'm going to have to get this dry-cleaned...or use a Scourgify spell once I'm not around all these Muggles, Ginny thought to herself in annoyance, finally bringing her gaze up to the offending stranger, accepting his peace offering of several napkins.

"You," the redhead murmured.

"And you," Draco Malfoy muttered, shaking his head at his rotten luck. Of all the attractive redheads to spill a cappuccino on, he picked the one whose family was the hated rival of his own. As much as he would have liked to walk away, his good manners kicked in. Signalling the barista, he got his wallet out of the back pocket of his slacks, buying a latte for himself and replacing Ginny's cappuccino.

Ginny looked at him in frustration as he handed her the drink. "You didn't have to do that."

Draco looked at her evenly over the rim of his cup. "Yes, I did. I wrecked your shirt and spilled your drink. If it were anyone else, you would have expected them to replace it."

The redhead tilted her head to the side, processing this. "You're probably right."

"I'm definitely right, Weasel."

The moment was awkward. Ginny was still standing by the bar, and Draco was standing across from her. Neither was willing to sit, because that would mean prolonging the uncomfortable situation, and yet, they felt somewhat unwilling to leave.

Unsure of what to say, Ginny asked, "So...doing some shopping?"

"Yeah," Draco affirmed awkwardly, trying not to think about the fact that he was conversing in public with a Weasley.

"Looking for anything in particular?" she tried again.

He shook his head, gaze trailing to the table by the window. Admit it. She's being nice, you've just been an arse and completely ruined her shirt; it seems the least you can do to make small talk with her. Besides, you have nothing better to do. "Um...do you want to sit?"

A shocked expression spread across Ginny Weasley's face. "Sure."

-

Draco coughed, clearing his throat. They had sat, and now he was trying to think of something to talk about. "Sorry about your shirt, by the way. I'll pay for the dry-cleaning," he offered, looking down at his hands as he said it.

"Don't worry about it," Ginny replied with a slight sigh. "I've just got rotten luck, I think that's the real truth of the matter. If you hadn't bumped into me, I'm positive somebody else would have."

Draco snorted. "Well. Aren't we the optimist? One would have thought all those years of idolizing the Dream Team would make one a bit more peppy...apparently not."

"Actually," Ginny contradicted with a wry grin, "it seemed to work in exactly the opposite way. The more attention those three got, the more I began to resent them. I was always pushed to the side, and I think I started to develop a little cynicism."

Draco rolled his eyes. "And there's a sob story if I've ever heard one. 'All my friends and family lived through the war, but Potty and his sidekicks get more attention in one day than I have in my entire life! Life is so unfair!'"

The redhead's brown eyes flashed dangerously. "That's not what I said and you know it, Malfoy. Besides, if I recall correctly, it's your own bloody fault we're talking right now anyway!"

He shook his head, taking a final sip of his latte. "Sorry to be such an inconvenience. Here. That should cover the shirt."

Throwing far too many pound notes than was necessary for dry-cleaning (when Ginny examined the amount later, she found that he had left more notes than it cost to purchase the blouse in the first place), Draco Malfoy swivelled on his heel, and was gone.

-

That was stupid, Ginny thought, mentally berating herself. He may be a prat, but he lost his mum in the war. That couldn't have been easy. And he's right. I have far too blessed a life to be complaining. Perhaps he doesn't express what he means very well, but his heart certainly seems to be in the right place. I shouldn't have overreacted as much as I did.

Before she could think twice, Ginny Weasley found herself hopping off the barstool and following Draco out into the bustling throngs of Bartleby's.

"Malfoy! Hey! Draco! Wait up!"

He turned around, and when he realized whom it was, let out an exhausted groan. "Weasley, don't you have something better to do than follow me around? I said I was sorry, I paid for your bloody shirt...what do you want from me?"

Ginny stopped walking, and Draco stopped to stand across from her. She fidgeted with her hands nervously, avoiding looking Draco in the eye. Clearing her throat, she mumbled, "I need your help."

"Pardon?"

Heaving a sigh, she looked up into his grey eyes, saying, louder this time, "I need your help."

His eyes widened. "I must be hallucinating. I'm fairly sure someone that was in the Order, Potter's ex-girlfriend, just asked me, a filthy 'ferret', for assistance."

"You're not hallucinating," Ginny replied with irritation. God, he's annoying, she thought to herself. He's far too full of himself. Somebody needs to take his ego down a few notches, that's for damn sure...

An amused smirk began to spread on Draco's face. A Weasley...asking me for help... this should be good. "All right, Weaselette. What's up?"

Ginny anxiously began, saying, "My mum's birthday is tomorrow. My brothers decided we would all pitch in to get something special, something nice. My mum, though she's not nearly as into Muggle things as my dad-"

"And how could she be?" the blond man quipped, motioning for them to move out of the walkway and to talk near a more secluded display case.

"Exactly," she replied with a grin before continuing. "Even though she's not as into them, she does appreciate some of their nicer things, and we just wanted to get her something really special this year."

"So?" Draco prompted impatiently.

The redhead took a deep breath. Now came the difficult part- convincing Draco to help. "Well, you're rich."

"Astonishing powers of observation."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "And, you have good taste."

Draco smirked. "Well, they do say flattery will get you everywhere, firecracker."

She sighed. This wasn't worth it. "Never bloody mind, Malfoy. Obviously you're just amused by this, you're not actually planning on helping me. I was going to give you back the money for the shirt; I could just use a second opinion on my mother's sodding birthday present. But it seems you're too self-absorbed to help me, even though my mother is the kind of person that would feed you regardless of how cruel you had ever been to her!"

Ginny felt tears begin to prick in the sides of her eyes, and she quickly turned away from Draco, walking off to study the store's layout on the map. Where is the bloody women's section? I can't find anything on here, it's all a bunch of boxes and squiggly lines with all these tears in my eyes... Ugh, I need a loo to go get cleaned up. Stupid Malfoy, why can't he ever think of anything but himself? Selfish bastard. And to think if I just mentioned the screen name RavishingRed, he would probably turn into a completely different person. It's ironic, really. Well, I guess I'm better off knowing what a jerk he is; I'm less likely to get hurt in the long run...

Dabbing at her eyes with the sleeves of her ruined blouse, the sobbing redhead headed for the ladies' room.

-

And yet another stunning instance of the Malfoy brilliance with words at work, Draco thought dryly, mentally berating himself for making her so upset. It wasn't that the young Malfoy cared much for the Weasley, but rather that he had prided himself on his reformation of character since his schooldays. He had actually forged a close friendship with Justin Finch-Fletchley because of it, a boy that used to get on his last nerve. And yet, he couldn't get over the childhood prejudice against the Weasleys. It was ridiculous, really. Draco had gone out of his way to be nothing like his father during the war, and yet, by keeping this prejudice, he was being more like his father than ever. Draco had no real personal problems with Ginny, from the small amount of conversation they had exchanged, he got the impression that she was fiery, warm, and defensively compassionate for all those she cared for, all admirable qualities in Draco's eyes.

I need to go find her, Draco resolved. I should make this right. If nothing else than to prove that I'm different from my father.

-

Ginny Weasley dabbed at her eyes with a paper towel. Okay, get yourself together, Gin. That sod isn't worth crying over. Just get Mum's present and get out of here. Mmm. I can already taste the cup of tea...and I have some shows recorded on the television to watch. Tonight will be just what I need it to be- a relaxing night in.

Heaving open the bathroom door, Ginny was met with the one person she would have been quite content to never run into again- Draco Malfoy.

"Agh!" she yelled in frustration, pushing past him and stomping furiously into what she hoped was the Women's Department. "Don't you have babies to torture, do-gooders to ridicule, a charity to steal from? I really just don't want to talk to you right now."

"I gathered," Draco muttered, quickening his pace to catch up with Ginny (who was now almost at a sprint). "Look, will you just hold on for a second?"

Finally, he got a hold on her blouse, tugging for her to turn around. Sighing and trying to catch her breath, she relented. "Alright, Malfoy. What do you want?"

"I want to help you."

"By ridiculing me?" The redhead demanded. "No thanks, in that case, I think I'll be better off on my own."

"Look. You said it yourself. I have taste. I want to help you. I'm sorry I was a prat earlier, but honestly, you should expect that by now."

Ginny snorted. "Alright, Malfoy. You can help. But why are you so desperate to prove yourself, anyway?"

Draco shook his head. "I guess I've changed, but people never want to let me prove it. It just makes me lose it once in awhile."

The redhead nodded, and motioned for him to follow her. "I'm thinking Women's and Jewellery for starters."

-

To any passer-by, the two would have seemed a happy couple doing some shopping, or even really good friends doing an errand together. But the reality was so much different. Ginny Weasley and Draco Malfoy had been enemies all during school, and thanks to fate, were now shopping together, and occasionally, even laughing together. Ginny was beginning to see the SecretDragon inside Draco, a development she found both welcome and yet frightening in its implications.

Browsing through some jewellery racks, the redhead continued the story she had been telling Draco for the past few minutes.

"And then Fred and George added some sort of a chilli pepper to their recipe, because the entire house began to smoke. We thought they had caught fire or something, but they had designed their own smoke bomb. We had to use the tent in the backyard for weeks while the smoke cleared," Ginny murmured fondly.

"How old were you then?"

"Seven," she replied with a wry grin. "The twins have always been very into experimenting with things."

"So I gathered. Merlin, I was even impressed with their swamp bit in my fifth year," Draco praised, motioning toward an aquamarine gemstone necklace. "That was fairly genius."

Ginny shook her head. "Mum's more into girly colours. Pinks, purples, reds."

He nodded in response, pointing to the far case. "How about something amethyst, perhaps?"

The redhead's gaze fell where Draco's finger was pointing. A divine amethyst necklace was laying peacefully in the place of prominence in the case. A delicate gold chain interspersed with small amethyst and pink tourmalines surrounded the amethyst centre, and Ginny knew it upon one glance. This was it. This was her mother's dream necklace. She knew that her mum wouldn't be able to wear it while gardening or cooking or anything like that, but in Ginny's opinion, everyone needed something beautiful. Even if you only get to wear it once in awhile, every woman should own some item that makes her feel beautiful inside as well as out.

"It's perfect," she breathed softly, closing in on the case.

Bending down to get a clearer look, she noted the price tag. Eight hundred GBP. Eyes widening, she mentally tabulated the amount with her. Shit. I only have four hundred pounds...that's half the bloody amount. But the necklace is so perfect...I'd chip in the other four hundred if I thought my bank account could handle it. But without the advance for that novel I've been working on, I'm pretty poor at the moment…

Exhaling in frustration, she stomped the ground where she was standing.

Draco's eyebrow rose in obvious amusement. "Are you aware of how childish you look right now?"

"The question is," the fiery redhead countered, "do I care how childish I look right now? And no, for your information, I don't care."

"What's wrong?"

"It's too-" Ginny broke off, unwilling to continue. I don't want to explain this to Draco Malfoy. Talk about embarrassing situations. The boy's probably never had something be too expensive for him in his life.

Draco's eyes darkened at Ginny's unwillingness to talk. I really must have been horrible to her back in school; she won't even talk to me. I guess she's completely within her rights not to, I've been an arse. But I thought we were getting on so well...

Leaning down to check the tag, he turned to Ginny. "Do you like this one?"

"Well, I like it obviously, it's perfect, but-"

With that, the blond motioned for her to be quiet, signalled the cashier, pointed to the necklace, and handed the cashier his credit card.

"What are you doing?" Ginny asked, obviously somewhat outraged by his actions.

"I'd figured that much would be obvious," Draco replied with a smirk, accepting the gift box from the cashier with a nod of thanks. "Here you go."

"But...that was eight hundred pounds!" the redhead shrieked in protest. "That's a lot of money!"

Draco shook his head. "You can pay me back."

"I will," Ginny muttered defensively. "Here's four hundred."

The Malfoy nodded, tucking the notes into his wallet. "So, Weaselette," he said, placing the box gently in her palm, "has your opinion of me changed?"

She thought to herself, tilting her head to the side as she examined him. "You know, it has. You're a much better person than you give yourself credit for."

Draco nodded, handing her something else- "Here's my card. I know your type, honourable and such, so I have no doubts that, as a matter of pride, you'll be paying me back. It has all my information, phone numbers and e-mail. I'll be seeing you."

"Be seeing you," Ginny managed weakly, shaking her head slightly. Was today for real? Did I just have an entirely civil interaction with a Malfoy? Did he actually pitch in half to buy my mother's birthday gift, without even asking why I was hesitating? Maybe he really isn't so bad, after all…

Lost in her thoughts, the redhead turned the card over.

Draco Malfoy

Business Entrepreneur

Mobile- 07078889432

E-mail- secretdragon@freemail.net

-

Draco Malfoy sighed, unlocking the door to his lavish apartment and shutting it behind him, double-checking that the deadbolt was locked. Dropping his keys, wallet, and mobile on the table by the door, the young Malfoy headed to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, he smiled when he noticed that his chef, Maria, had made him his favourite- roast beef. Taking the Tupperware from the refrigerator, he put it in the microwave to warm up and headed to boot up the computer.

Taking a savoury bite of meat, Draco chewed thoughtfully as he logged on to his e-mail account.

There it was, the e-mail that he'd been so desperate for yesterday but that Ginny Weasley had forced him to forget about today. In a way, he was grateful to that redheaded pest. She had forced RavishingRed from his thoughts for a few minutes, given him something else to focus on other than whether RavishingRed had replied to his messages… all in all, Draco had had a welcome relief of a day. She's not so bad once you get used to her defensive moral standing and tendency to incessantly babble, he surmised, thinking amusedly of Ginny's many anecdotes that day.

Sighing, he double-clicked on the subject line- Re: Where the hell were you?- with fingers crossed, hoping for the best.

SecretDragon-

I'm so sorry about today. I didn't want to stand you up. But I was just so…nervous. I need more time. I'm not ready to meet yet. I'm sorry if this message disappoints you. But I just want you to know one thing-

I haven't given up on you yet.

xoxo

-Ravishing Red

-

Authoress' Note (Part 2): Review! You guys rock my socks!