In the Red
Mei Queen
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Authoress' Note: Thanks to my beta, Chelsea, for motivating me when I felt like not doing anything…I appreciate it sooooo much. You're a star! And, of course- thank you so much to my loyal readers…without you, I wouldn't be doing this!
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Disclaimer: Not mine.
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Chapter 2: Small Talk
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Just like she said she would, Ginny Weasley called the bank again the next day to arrange a meeting with her financial planner (trying to put the fact that she had gone shopping just yesterday to the back of her mind). Unfortunately, Natalie (the receptionist) relayed, Ginny's financial planner was in a board meeting. Fortunately, the Muggle-born Natalie Fisk was a Girl Scout growing up, and was constantly prepared for any given situation. One tanned hand caressing the leather book and opening it up to the proper date, Natalie offered, "I have his schedule right here, Madam Weasley…would it be alright for me to schedule the meeting, that way you won't have to call back?"
"Absolutely," Ginny had replied with relief, quite obviously thrilled that she wouldn't have to call yet another time.
"How does Saturday at noon sound?" Natalie asked tentatively, her Biro pen (because quills were just too inconvenient for Natalie…some Muggle devices had stuck with her) hovering above the slot on Draco Malfoy's day planner.
The redhead scrunched her nose in distaste. "Do you have anything…later?"
"I'm sorry; he has a polo match that afternoon, Madam. If you prefer, he has an opening on Monday morning at eight AM…"
"I'll take the noon slot, please!" Ginny cried with desperation evident in her tone. She hated the thought of starting her weekend with a meeting with someone who would tell her to decrease her spending, but what choice did she have? She certainly wasn't going to be getting up earlier than she needed to for work to meet with him on Monday! Ugh. I have to spend Saturday with some stuffy financial planner. Cheers to an exciting weekend, honestly…
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The week came and went, and Saturday morning came much too quickly for Ginny's liking.
"It can't be this time already! I mean, really…ten o' bloody clock. Who wants to wake up at ten on a Saturday?" Ginny Weasley moaned, pushing the snooze button on her alarm and crawling back underneath the covers. It was finally the weekend, but she had set up a meeting with her financial planner for noon…a fact that was already serving to ruin the first day of the weekend for Ginny. Pulling the sheet over her head, she shouted to nobody in particular, "I'm not getting out unless someone has ludicrous amounts of coffee held by a male model in the kitchen. 'Til then…"
Brrring!
"Gah," she muttered, pushing a stray curl out of her bleary eyes and turning over in her bed. Resolutely shutting her eyes as tight as she could, she called, "I can't hear that…Nope. I can't hear the obnoxious telephone going off in kitchen too early in the morning. Can't ruddy hear it at all."
Brrring!
"Bloody ruddy phone. Why do I have one of these useless contraptions anyhow?" Ginny murmured (mostly to herself), grudgingly flinging off the duvet and padding to the kitchen in her slippers. Clutching her dressing robe a bit closer to protect her from the cold, the redhead leisurely made it to the kitchen and put the kettle on for some coffee. Heaving a sigh, she picked up the receiver of the telephone. Hoping her voice didn't sound too hoarse, Ginny croaked, "Hello?"
"Good morning!" the chipper voice on the other end replied, obviously amazed that someone decided to pick up after five rings.
Wincing at the brightness of it all, Ginny slowly returned the sentiment, beginning to wonder who might be on the other end, and cursing the fact that she hadn't bought a phone with Caller ID when she had had the entirely idiotic idea to buy a telephone in the first place.
"This is Natalie from Gringotts Bank Corporate Offices!"
Does every sentence have to end in an exclamation point? I wonder if she's on something…nobody should naturally be that happy, Ginny thought cynically, mustering her most cheerful tone to reply. "Hello, Natalie!"
"Hello, Madam Weasley!"
Well, now that we have that out of the way, Ginny thought with a wry smile, grinning slightly as she poured herself a coffee. Slowly taking a sip, she waited for Natalie to continue. When her waiting was met with silence, Ginny prompted, "So, what can I help you with, Natalie?"
"Oh, right. I was calling to confirm your appointment with your financial planner at noon," the blonde answered brightly.
"Noon's fine with me," Ginny replied simply. "Where are we meeting?"
"This is just a briefing, a short and simple plan for your future, but we prefer it to be in a location that's comfortable to you…we find that the first meeting is the most difficult for some people. How's Starbucks for you?" Natalie asked with a grin, already knowing the answer. Please. Women and Starbucks? Case closed.
"Fantastic, yes. Which one?" Ginny asked, obviously pleased that she wouldn't have to go to some stuffy bank for this first nerve-wracking meeting.
"The one closest to your home, on 5th and Lexington."
"Great, thanks, Natalie."
"You're welcome," Natalie Fisk replied cheerfully, returning the receiver to the cradle.
"Hey, boss, I just got confirmation, she'll be there!"
"Thank you, Nat," Draco Malfoy answered with a nod, putting on his coat. "This should be interesting. And for the last time, it's Draco, not sir, boss, or any title remotely respectful, Natalie. We all know how disrespectful I can be."
With a lewd smirk and a final wink at his receptionist, Draco Apparated right out of the office.
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5th and Lexington? That's not a long walk from here, Ginny thought contentedly, returning the receiver to the cradle. She was thrilled about this fact, as she had never thought it worthwhile to invest in a car (she could always Apparate, after all), and particularly detested public transportation. The idea of being stuffed in to a seat next to a potentially smelly lunatic had never really appealed to Ginevra Weasley.
Ginny hummed during her shower (some new tune she'd just heard on the WWN- "Un-break my Wand" by The Wailing Banshees), making sure to condition her hair a long time, making it feel as soft as possible. She wanted to make a good impression, after all- from what she'd gathered from her talk with Natalie a few days ago, she would need to work closely with this planner to restructure all of her bad spending habits. Natalie mentioned that it had taken some particularly bad shopping cases as long as three months to completely solve their accounts. Three months.
I hope he's nice and has a semblance of a sense of humour…Merlin forbid I be stuck with some boring jerk for three months. Ugh.
Ginny towelled off the steamed mirror of the bathroom, smiling at her reflection as she did so. Quickly dressing and grabbing her wand, she whispered a few select charms to dry her hair and ready her for the day. "Not long now," she muttered to herself nervously. Gods, I'm always talking to myself. I really must get a pet one of these days…if nothing else than to stop looking quite so mad…
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Draco Malfoy sighed, reclining in the uncomfortable metal chair of the Starbucks and absentmindedly sipping his latte. He was early, as he usually was these days (one had to be constantly on schedule when one has as many responsibilities as Draco Malfoy, you see), but he didn't mind it. Draco enjoyed the few minutes of quiet before his latest case arrived- it gave him a chance to people-watch, a moment to collect his thoughts and ready himself for the first meeting with his new client.
Draco hadn't had to deal with many cases before (well, none, really), as Guido Berks, the Head Goblin, had never requested something so bizarre as the CEO of Gringotts helping a customer on a real case before. But, Draco thought with a slight wry smile, there's a first for everything. Who knows? It might be fun…haha. Yeah, right, Draco. Pigs might fly and Crabbe and Goyle might single-handedly discover a cure for cancer, too. Then my father will come and hold hands with the Weasel's family and we'll all skip around in happy bloody circles. I'm sure hanging out with a Weasley and forcing her to break her love affair with credit cards is going to be the highlight of my young years, indeed…
Rolling his eyes at the thought, Draco let out the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. I didn't really expect to be nervous about this, but I rather am…What if she catches on that I have no bloody idea what I'm doing? It can't be that hard, can it? You know, just call her mobile, ask where she is, and tell her to put down the Prada… really. It can't be that difficult. But…if financial planning is easy, then why do we so heavily screen the applications for our team of planners? …Oh, shit. Here she comes…
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Ginevra Weasley had been having a mildly horrific morning, all things considered. First, the morning wake-up call from Natalie (who, in Ginny's opinion, seriously needed to lay off the happy drugs), then she realised she hadn't done the laundry, so she couldn't find an appropriate outfit to wear to the meeting, and then once she actually found the perfect pair of shoes, her stiletto heel caught in a storm drain walking over, so now she had one beautiful heel, and one (to Ginny's major dismay, as these were her best Jimmy Choos) makeshift ballet flat.
The world hates the Weasleys…especially the only girl, Ginny thought wryly, hobbling the rest of the block to the Starbucks. Her eyes widened when she noticed a certain blonde billionaire sitting casually at the sidewalk table, looking much less surprised by her appearance than she was by his presence.
"Ah, Weasley," Draco drawled, and in a surprising act of good manners, stood up to pull out Ginny's chair.
Ginny, meanwhile, stood stock-still on the sidewalk and regarded him like he had grown an extra head. "Um…I'm afraid I'm already meeting someone, ferret. I hope to have a lovely argument with you when your cruel soul re-inhabits its proper body, though."
"Honestly, Weasel, your slowness is remarkable. You're meeting me," Draco replied in exasperation, pointing to the seat in annoyance, clearly unused to people not following his every direction. Looking entirely confused, Ginny slowly sat down; still looking at Draco like this was a cruel practical joke that she had just not been let in on the punch line of.
Draco's grey eyes flicked up from his fancy leather folder and beautiful new embossed parchment to meet Ginny's bewildered chocolate ones. "By the way, did you know that you lost one of your heels? You looked like Filch when you were walking up here."
Ginny glowered at him in annoyance. "Thanks for the memo."
Sighing, Draco set him pen down and got up from his chair. "All right, what can I get you? The coffee is on Gringotts."
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Are you fucking kidding me? The world hates me today. First - Natalie. Next there was the heel. Third- no vanilla in my bloody vanilla latte, you incompetent barista…and now, Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret, is my financial planner. Like my world wasn't horrible enough, Ginny thought irritably, keeping a running mental commentary of complaints going as Draco continued to drone on about a payment schedule, budgeting, and a whole bunch of other boring accounting terms that Ginny just didn't really feel like listening to. Her eyes trailed off to the sidewalk as she sipped her disgustingly bitter latte.
Her attention was brought back when Draco stopped talking and looked back at Ginny expectantly.
"I'm sorry, what?" The redhead apprehensively asked while trying to keep her eyes trained on the sidewalk, so as not to meet his infuriated eyes.
"You haven't been listening the entire time, have you?" Draco demanded incredulously, throwing down his awfully expensive pen down in irritation. "I can't do this; I can't work with a Weasel. I'll just go in on Monday and tell them-"
"Tell them what, exactly? That you couldn't handle a girl and her small spending problem?"
"Weasley," Draco drawled in frustration. "I've looked at your accounts folder. Unless 'small' is the new 'gargantuan', you do not have a small spending problem. You have a big problem. Like if small were Hogwarts, your problem would encompass the entire continent of Europe…hell, possibly Russia, too…"
"I get the analogy," Ginny muttered in annoyance, crossing her arms over her chest and blowing a stray strand of fringe out of her eyes. "…like I want to work with you, anyhow. I doubt you've ever had to budget anything in your entire life. The very thought of you financially structuring my life is ludicrous."
Draco snorted. "True. So I don't budget shit…I've never had to. Hell, doing this job is a bit odd, to be honest…"
Ginny's eyes widened in alarm. "Wait. Are you telling me that you have no idea what you're doing? I got the financial planner that has never financially planned?"
She took Draco's silence and distracted gaze for assent.
Throwing her hands up in aggravation, Ginny continued her rant. "When did my life go so speedily downhill, anyway? Where did I go wrong? This is probably God's punishment for not capitalising on that great sale at Jigsaw and instead waiting until my favourite scarf went off sale, all so I wouldn't have a weird carrier bag, I mean really. What would people think? I love carrier bags; they're great to bring things around in, but a sale carrier bag? That's horribly tacky…"
"I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about," Draco interjected in annoyance, pushing his chair back from the table. "But I think this first completely useless meeting can be safely considered over."
"I'm thrilled to hear it," Ginny muttered, getting up and slamming her chair back up against the table, defiantly chucking her unsatisfactory latte in the nearest bin. Turning on her heel, she heard Draco call, "Oh, and Weasley- you'll be hearing from our receptionist to reschedule."
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"I hate him!" Ginny screamed for the fifth time that morning. It was now Monday morning, a morning that had come much too early for Ginny's liking, as her weekend had felt extraordinarily shorter than usual. She knew that Natalie would be calling today. Ginny wasn't entirely sure how she was positive, but she just knew in her bones that one of the many calls filtering in through the Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, Inc. phone lines would be Natalie Fisk, asking in her entirely abnormally joyful way when Ginny was free next.
"We understand that you hate him, Gin," George Weasley spat in annoyance, passing by his sister's desk to retrieve a memo from their American offices. "Who is he, anyway? You've just been talking about hating him the whole bloody morning."
"Nobody," Ginny muttered quietly, turning back to her computer monitor slowly. She didn't want to tell her family about her financial situation, they would probably be so disappointed in her lack of responsibility that they'd never trust her with money again. Ginny hated the thought of disappointing her parents, who had had to work so hard to provide everything for her and her siblings over the years.
"Okay," George muttered in frustration. His sister was quite the enigma when she wanted to be, he noted irritably. However, one stern look from Madge was enough to make George back away from his sister's desk and head back to his own. "Oi, Fred! Do we have the design done for the Spitting Salve yet?"
Madge heaved a sigh, abandoning her desk momentarily to slowly stride over to Ginny's, throwing a final angry glare in George's general direction. "What's the problem, dear?" the sweet elderly woman asked gently, putting a supportive hand on the redhead's forearm.
"Madge…I've afraid I've completely mucked things up."
The older woman's eyes shone with amusement, but to her credit, she didn't laugh. "I'm sure that's not true," the woman offered kindly.
"Oh, it is. I'm in debt. And the man I have to work with on it, well, he's…horrible," Ginny whispered hopelessly, one hand frantically reaching for the Sugar Quill Elmer had left on her desk that morning. Relaxing slightly as she sucked on the tip, Ginny fidgeted nervously, leaning back in her office chair. "I guess it isn't too late to fix things," she murmured to nobody in particular, eyes looking past Madge, to the windows where sunlight was so happily streaming in.
"That's the attitude I like to hear, darling," Madge said affectionately, reaching over to give Ginny a small hug before returning to her desk.
"Yeah," Ginny stated decisively, grin lighting up her features. "Things will get better."
Madge sat down in her office chair and grudgingly picked up the insistently ringing telephone. "Oh, you need Madam Weasley? Yes, just a moment, please."
Pressing 'hold' and returning the receiver, the kind woman looked over at Ginny. "For you…it's Gringotts."
Smiling nervously and giving Madge a thumbs-up, Ginny picked up the call, leaning back in her chair to, once again, talk to Natalie.
But, this time, to Ginny's great surprise, it wasn't Natalie.
"Weasley?" a male voice demanded, obviously slightly confused as to the inner workings of a Muggle telephone.
Ginny rolled her eyes in annoyance. Even nutcase Natalie is better than having to talk to the ferret himself; she thought snarkily to herself before replying. "Hi, Malfoy, how's it going?"
"Can you hear me?" the voice roared.
"Duh, Malfoy. How would I have recognised your voice if I couldn't hear you, may I ask?" Ginny asked with a snort. She always found purebloods struggling with Muggle contraptions very amusing (she had once been one, yes; the fact did not escape her. But she had actually taken Muggle Studies unlike the majority of purebloods- excelled at it, actually, and always had Harry and Hermione to reference if she ever had trouble with anything).
"Right," Draco answered, considerably chastened and lowering his voice level. "So, next meeting…when do you want to meet?"
"So we have to keep up with this, then?"
"Unless you have spontaneously pulled 29 thousand Galleons and some odd Sickles and Knuts out of an orifice I'd rather not hear about, of course we do," Draco countered evenly, voice cracking a little bit in laughter.
She couldn't help it. Ginny felt a smile start to show on the stoic features she usually used when speaking with Draco Malfoy. "Nope, no orifices."
"All right, then," Draco replied, surprised to feel a smile begin to form on his own face. "So, how's next Tuesday evening?"
"I work until five," she offered, spinning a strand of hair around her index finger and propping one foot up on her desk as she spoke.
"Okay. Shall we say, six at The Leaky Cauldron, then? We can grab some dinner and a drink or something and go over the file."
"I'm guessing dinner is on Gringotts?" Ginny asked with a giggle. She didn't know why she wanted to prolong the call with mundane details; on any normal day; she would have happily hung up on Draco Malfoy. But, Ginny Weasley noted with a wry grin, these days lately had been rather far from normal.
"Naturally," Draco drawled, his smile widening despite himself. What am I doing? Am I actually deliberately lengthening a conversation with the Weaselette? When did I go completely mad, anyway? I wonder if I should go to St. Mungo's and get my head checked rather than going to Haiti on holiday, again. Hmm…well, it's an option to consider…
"Okay," Ginny murmured uncertainly, "Well, I'll see you then, I suppose."
"All right. Talk to you later, Weasel."
Ginny's nose scrunched with distaste, and she noted that Draco had not yet hung up his receiver, so she decided to do something that Ginny Weasley had rarely done in her life- demand what she wanted. "Hold on!"
"What?" Draco asked in annoyance, reluctantly bringing the receiver back up to his ear.
"Don't you think that since we'll be working together, we should stop referring to each by our surnames? It seems sort of ridiculous to me." Ginny trailed off nervously, not really sure of whether the idea of first names was a good one or not.
Draco rolled his eyes, his tone indicating how absurd a request he found Ginny's need for first names. "Alright, then, Ginevra."
"Eww. Nobody calls me Ginevra but my mum, and that's when I'm in trouble. How about 'Ginny', like the rest of the universe?" the redhead asked sarcastically, picking up a nail file from her pen jar to shape her fingernails. She smirked because for once in Draco Malfoy's life, he was actually going to have to do what she wanted- if Draco messed up with a client, he'd have to admit it Guido Berks. And Draco Malfoy…well, he never admitted his own mistakes. So, Ginny had realised almost immediately after returning home after their first meeting… she had leverage.
"Alright, fine, Ginny, then. I will see you next week, Ginny."
"Thank you. See you then…Draco."
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