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In the Red
Mei Queen
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RECAP:
"Alright, fine, Ginny, then. I will see you next week, Ginny."
"Thank you. See you then…Draco."
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Disclaimer: I don't own it. Sophie Kinsella owns the Shopaholic series, and the book The Undomestic Goddess, from which the joke about shaping truffles was taken. Read her stuff. It frikkin rocks.
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Authoress' Note: I thought I had given up on this story, but after some very colorful begging reviews, I'm back. I hope you enjoy it. Oh, and there was a review I wanted to address. This person said that I was just taking the Shopaholic series and placing it in Harry Potter, and I found that somewhat ridiculous. Point A) yes, Ginny works as a payroll person, but she's not giving national financing advice to anyone. She's just got a spending problem. B) Luke didn't find out about Becky's spending problem until the rest of the world did, near the end. Draco knew from the beginning and is the person responsible for fixing the problem, making the plot entirely different. C) Harry presents a second male character, something that the Shopaholics never had. So there. That review just really irritated me. Great authors inspire me, sure, but I definitely don't think I'm copying Kinsella here.
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Chapter 3: Assessing the Damage
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Ginny returned the receiver to its cradle feeling vaguely ill. I didn't just flirt with Draco Malfoy, did I? I'm more cracked than I thought I was. Perhaps I'm coming down with something…I should ask Fred and George to just let me go home early. Obviously I've gone completely mad if I'm resorting to civil conversation with that…that…wanker!
Putting a hand to her forehead theatrically, Ginny called across the hall, "Oi! Fred!"
Ginny's older brother looked up from his paperwork, obviously irritated. "What is it now, Ginny? Going to go on about him again? Whoever he is, seeing as Madge won't let me ask."
The elderly woman shot a dirty look in Fred's direction, shutting him up quick enough. Ginny, meanwhile, took a few steps toward her brother's desk, hand still theatrically splayed across her forehead. "No, Fred. It's not that. I just don't feel…well."
Fred raised an eyebrow suspiciously. "You sick or summat?"
"Dunno," Ginny replied innocently. "I was really tired this weekend, so maybe. Either way, my forehead's feeling pretty warm, and I don't want Elmer or Madge to catch anything…then you blokes might actually have to answer your own phones…"
The expression of sheer panic on Fred's face was enough of an answer for Ginny.
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When Ginny Apparated back into her apartment, she noticed that the red light was blinking on the answering machine. Pressing Play, Draco Malfoy's booming voice filled up the room.
"Weas- er…Ginny. Yes. Ginny, I've got a bit of a problem. That day we agreed upon, next Tuesday? Natalie's just told me she booked me something then. Apparently I'm supposed to notify her when I schedule appointments. Must remember to do that from now on... Anyway, are you busy tomorrow? Tomorrow Natalie can actually be there to take notes for us, so it actually works out better. Anyway, call me back. You know the number. Bye."
Ginny felt her stomach turn slightly. How could I have been so stupid, thinking he just wanted to have dinner with me… it's just part of his job. And now Natalie Fisk is coming…Ms. Speed Addict herself. Cheers.
Picking up the phone with a groan (this relationship with Draco was beginning to make her hate her own telephone), she dialed the number and patiently waited.
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Natalie Fisk blushed slightly. Her boss, Draco Malfoy, had been sneaking peeks at her through his open office door all morning, and now he had caught her staring at him. She could tell by the way her raised his eyebrow, smirking slightly. Why do I get the feeling that we'll be ending up together? Natalie thought, shaking her head and turning her gaze down to Draco's appointment book. After all, this much sexual tension can't just go unnoticed…can it?
There was that ruddy phone again. It'd been ringing off the hook nearly all morning; it was really beginning to drive Natalie mad. Picking up the phone wearily, she recited the long speech and waited for a response.
"Hi Natalie, Madam Weasley here. Is Malf- er…Draco around?"
"Just a moment, please," Natalie replied automatically, pressing the hold button and dialing Draco's extension. "I've got Madam Weasley on Line 1, sir."
She could see Draco pick up the receiver through the open door to talk with Natalie herself. "For the love of Merlin, Nat, it's Draco, not sir. And I'm assuming by Madam Weasley we mean Ginny, right, not her mother transferred here by mistake or something?"
"Yes, si- I mean…Draco. Right."
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Rolling his eyes at that submissive habit of Natalie's, Draco hit the Line 1 button, much to the relief of Ginny Weasley (who, quite frankly, despised Draco's choice of hold music- Celestina Warbeck. Who did he think his customer base was comprised of, anyway? Old witches in rocking chairs?). "Oi. Weasley."
"Ginny," she muttered through her teeth irritably.
"Right. Ginny. So how are things?"
"Oh, you know…not much different than they were last night. You?"
Draco didn't really catch the sarcastic note in the redhead's voice, so he replied, "Basically the same, too. Did you get my message?"
"Yes, I did," she answered, sighing audibly. She really didn't want to be forced to sit down to dinner with Draco and Natalie. Draco was bad bloody enough! Now she had to deal with Natalie? But Natalie just speaking gives me a headache…imagine how bad she'd be in the flesh. That thought made Ginny shudder involuntarily.
"So?"
Ginny rolled her eyes. Even though it obviously isn't that great of a situation, he's clearly just going to keep inviting her until we find a day we can all go. I might as well just go and get it over with. "Yes, that's fine."
"Great. So, Leaky Cauldron tomorrow at six?" Draco replied, not really paying attention to Ginny anymore, instead winking at Natalie across the hall. Nat looks so cute when she blushes, he thought, a sly grin beginning to spread across his face.
"Sounds fine. Alright, gotta run, bye!" Ginny muttered, rushing to get him off the phone.
Draco barely noticed, absently saying 'bye' and returning the receiver before returning to his new favorite sport- Natalie-watching.
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After talking with Draco, the redhead went to the telly, flicking through channels and trying to find her favorite programs. Well, this is a boring waste of a day off, she thought irritably. I wonder what Harry's doing.
Picking up her mobile, she pressed speed number '5' and waited for the ringing to begin.
"Harry Potter's mobile!" his assistant, Charlotte, chirped.
"Hey, Char!" Ginny greeted, smiling. "It's Ginny, how are you doing?"
"Oh good, good," Charlotte replied breathlessly. "How have you been, hon?"
"Peachy," the redhead murmured. "Is Harry around?"
"Yeah, he's just got out of a press conference for Aurors United, but I'll get him on. Harry! Oi! Harry! Phone call for you!"
Ginny rolled her eyes. Sometimes getting a hold of Harry Potter was about as difficult as…well…getting in touch with the savior of the wizarding world.
Shocking, that.
"Hello?" Harry greeted irritably, simultaneously trying to speak in the mobile Charlotte had propped by his ear and fend off a teenaged fan who was now clawing at his clothes and begging for an autograph.
"Harry! How are you doing?"
"Ginny!" he replied with a grin. Thank Merlin, somebody I actually enjoy speaking with. "How are you, chick?"
"Peachy," she repeated, smiling. "What are you up to today?"
Harry turned to Charlotte. "What do I have planned today, Char? I don't remember."
Nodding curtly in thanks to his doorman, Arnold, Harry slid into his limousine and poured a glass of water for himself and Charlotte.
Charlotte slid into the limousine after Harry and accepted the glass gratefully. Taking a sip and opening her planner, Charlotte replied. "Now that that meeting is over, you're actually pretty free, sir."
"Free as a bird, Miss Weasley," Harry relayed. "Why? Don't you have work today? Are we skiving again? Do I have to notify your bosses?"
Ginny snorted. "Oh, come on. Like you could work with those two every bloody day without needing time off for your mental health."
"Fair point," he conceded, grinning. "So, can I tempt you with lunch? It's on me, missy."
"I'd love to, Harry."
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Ginny Weasley settled into the cushioned chair at the restaurant table, sipping her Sea Breeze. This is the life. Drinks before noon, going to eat with a handsome man…who I'm not actually dating and have no future with, but…that's not the point. This is so much better than sitting to eat with Malfoy, or just lounging around my house watching crap television.
Harry Potter walked up to the table, ruffling his hair slightly as he did so. "Hey, Gin. It's good to see you," he greeted warmly, reaching over to give her a hug.
"You too, Harry," she replied, smiling. "Where's Charlotte?"
"Well, since I didn't have anything else to do, I figured I'd be a nice boss and give her the rest of the day off."
"You are a nice boss," she murmured. "Hell will freeze over before Fred and George do that."
"Hey," Harry countered. "You had your chance, and, of course, the offer still stands. Don't get me wrong, you made a great choice when you helped me pick Charlotte, but you know I'd rather have my best mate as my personal assistant."
Ginny's cheeks colored slightly. "I appreciate the offer, Harry, I really do. But I know that George and Fred…well, they need me. I handle all their accounts, I'm a liaison to all their clients…I basically am the face of WWW, Inc, as far as our suppliers go. You know I can't give that up, especially for a charity job."
"It's not a charity job," he replied quickly. "I offer because I know you can do it, Gin. You're fantastic at organization, clerical duties, everything an assistant should excel at."
"I just can't do it well in my own life, it seems," Ginny murmured hopelessly, throwing up her hands in frustration.
A waiter approached their table. After taking their orders, he walked away, leaving Harry and Ginny to continue their heated conversation.
Meeting Ginny's eyes over the breadbasket, Harry murmured, "You know…if you ever need help. I have no problem helping you, I know you're an honorable person and will pay me back…well, you don't even need to pay me back right away. Just pay me when you get back on your feet."
"I'll think about it, Harry, I promise. But I don't want charity."
"I know that," he said, gritting his teeth in frustration. "It's not charity. It's just a loan, a business transaction. No more, no less."
"I appreciate it," she murmured. "I promise to consider the offer."
Harry nodded. "Thank you. And if you ever need extra money, I could use a second assistant, just for weekends, when Charlotte's off. I pay a really fair salary. Plus great benefits," he said with a grin.
"I'll think about that, too," the redhead said with a laugh, reaching for a piece of bread.
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Ginny checked her watch impatiently. 5:42 pm. Come on, time, and move faster! Ginny had arrived early for dinner with Draco and Natalie at the Leaky Cauldron. She had left work a tad early, eager to browse in the shop windows of Diagon Alley before sitting down to eat. However, the shop windows didn't take that long to browse. Roughly sixteen minutes, to be exact. So Ginny Weasley had been sitting in Leaky Cauldron, sipping on a pint, for over half an hour now.
The door chimed, announcing another patron. Eyes darting eagerly to the door, the redhead was relieved to see none other than Draco Malfoy and Natalie Fisk. Draco looked as immaculate as ever, wearing an expensive business suit and punching buttons at random and talking rapid-fire into his mobile phone. Natalie, Ginny was disgusted to notice, looked as thin, blonde, and absolutely stunning as ever, and was currently guiding her boss to the table where Ginny was sitting.
"Hello, Madam Weasley. It's nice to finally meet you," Natalie said cordially, outstretching her delicate hand with a smile.
"You too, Natalie," Ginny muttered stiffly, shaking the hand and inclining her head in a nod.
Draco finished up with his mobile and turned to regard the ladies he was sitting opposite. "Hi, Wea-…Ginny. Good to see you."
"Same here, Draco."
"Alright," Natalie said sweetly, raising a hand to signal Tom the barkeep to come take their order. Opening a large leather folder, uncapping her Biro and lowering it to the empty pad, she said, "Let's get started."
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"So how often will we be meeting?" Ginny asked before taking a bite of her salad.
Draco weighed the question, taking another bite of his meal. "I think with a case like yours, the more often we meet, the better. It's hard to break someone of a habit without constant observation of them, I find."
"So what does that mean, exactly?" the redhead asked with gritted teeth. God, I don't want to spend the rest of my life being chastised by a Malfoy. That would just be too sad.
"At least twice a week," he replied. "Preferably three to four times. An hour or more apiece."
Ginny's eyes widened. Was he joking? How exactly did he expect her to have a life?
Natalie dutifully jotted down the time frame.
"Wait," the redhead croaked. "You are kidding, correct? That's more time than I spend with my therapist!"
Draco shook his head, turning to Natalie. "Note this for me- fire her therapist. Her therapist is obviously crap, judging by her level of sanity. Besides, everyone knows therapy is a very expensive load of hogwash."
Ginny turned indignantly to Draco. "Excuse me? I'll fire whom I like, thank you very much. Dr. Benson happens to be a very qualified therapist, and I think I have made some real progress with him."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Sure. Whatever you say, Weasley. But let me ask you this- how much does he charge?"
The Weasley's cheeks reddened. "I don't see why that matters."
Draco's jaw dropped, regarding Ginny like she had grown an extra head.
"I'm trying to consolidate your finances," he explained patiently and slowly, as if he were talking to someone entirely dense. "I need to get rid of all unnecessary expenses, at least until we get you back in the black again. I'm sorry, Weasley, but there's no other way about this. You're going to have to make a lot of sacrifices if you want to get out of debt properly."
Ginny's shoulders sank. He was right. She knew it. But Ginny was not happy to admit it. "Okay, fine. Whatever you think."
Inclining his head gratefully at her agreement, Draco replied, "Thank you. Now…what would you say you average income was, in comparison to the amount you spend per week? Then we'll compare your numbers to the correct ones, and hopefully this should put things more into perspective for you."
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The meeting ended with a future meeting already scheduled for four days later, on a Saturday. Draco wanted to get a feel for her home, so he asked to be invited over. Ginny wasn't thrilled with the idea, but knew she had little choice in the matter either way. Three of those days since the last meeting had already passed, and now Ginny was at home, trying to find places for all her purchases before Draco showed up at two in the afternoon.
Pouring herself a cup of coffee, the redhead walked slowly into the living room, where a small mountain of carrier bags (purchases, for the most part, still inside) had accumulated. "Oh, Merlin," she muttered. "I didn't realize it had gotten quite this bad."
Sighing, she picked up the nearest bag at peeked inside. A few tops from H&M. Fine. They can go in the bedroom pile. Well, that was easy, the redhead thought happily. I can do this, I just need to organize everything and find places. No problem.
Picking up another carrier bag, Ginny was met with one of the same tops from the first bag. No way. I couldn't have bought the same top twice…could I?
But holding them up next to each other, she realized that she, in fact, did now own two small black beaded H&M halter-tops. Maybe this is why people put their purchases in closets, she thought to herself wryly, studying the identical tops. So they don't buy the exact same thing again.
Checking the tag, she was even more irritated to find that it wasn't a cheap top, either. Bloody hell. Well…now I feel pretty thick.
Putting the two tops to the side for the moment, she picked up another carrier bag. Cooking supplies. Well, this shouldn't be too bad.
Picking up a heavy instrument, one that looked like a large aluminum nail file, out of the bag, Ginny twirled it in her hands, looking for the label. But there was none. Looking at it even more intently and noting the serrated edges, Ginny Weasley couldn't help but wonder- what the hell is it? What does it do? And…what did I buy it for?
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Ding dong! The doorbell cheerfully rang at a quarter to two in the afternoon. Ginny looked down at her clothes. She had gotten so wrapped up in sorting purchases that she didn't actually take time to shower or change, and was still in her Quidditch pajamas, the ones with the bright flying Snitches. Oh well, she thought hopelessly, taking a dressing robe from the couch and cinching it tightly around her waist, if we're going to work together as often as he says we are, he's going to see me at my worst. We might as well start today, she thought grimly, walking to the door.
Swinging it wide, she was met with a slightly more relaxed Draco Malfoy than she was used to. Rather than a business suit, Draco was wearing a fitted green shirt and jeans in a dark wash. It suited him- clean, yet casual.
Ginny smiled at him. "Sorry about the mess. I've been going through bags all morning, I didn't really get time to change either."
Draco had the urge to make a smart remark about Ginny's colorful pajamas, but decided to hold it back. You're representing Gringotts. You need to be professional, or at least as professional as you get, until this is over. Then you can go back to ridiculing Weasleys with fervor, Draco assured himself, meanwhile stepping into Ginny's flat and looking around. "Nice place, Weasley."
Ginny's eyes widened somewhat at a compliment coming from a Malfoy, but accepted it graciously nonetheless. "Tea, Draco?"
"Please. White, if you would."
Nodding, Ginny walked into the kitchen, leaving Draco to his own devices in the living room/ carrier bag mountain.
"Done some shopping?" he asked when she returned with the tea, pointing to the bags.
Her cheeks reddened. "Not recently. That stuff has been here for ages, I just never quite got around to unpacking it."
"Spring cleaning, then," he surmised, eyes surveying the lot. Eyebrow jolting upward in confusion, he picked up the same instrument Ginny had been puzzled over earlier. "What is this, Weasley? Torture device? To sand off the skin of those Weasley Incorporated fans?"
"It's for cooking," she muttered defensively.
"Cooking what, exactly?" Draco demanded, running his finger along the serrated edge. "Human organs?"
"Um…" Ginny stalled, trying to think of some obscure food Draco would most likely not know the preparations for. "Truffles. Yeah. It's for…shaping truffles."
Draco looked at her questioningly. "Huh. So…you do a lot of truffle shaping, then?"
"Maybe," the redhead retorted defensively, crossing her arms over her chest. "What's it to you?"
Draco fished in the bag for the receipt. Holding it up triumphantly, he began to match items to their respective spots on the receipt. "What it is to me, Weasley, is approximately forty pounds."
Ginny's eyes widened. There was no way. How in the world did she pay forty pounds for that…thing? And…exactly what did she plan on using it for?
Regarding her with a smirk, the blond couldn't resist adding, "Oh, and by the way, it's actually a zester. Just so you know."
"A what?" the redhead muttered.
"You zest things with it," he explained, talking slowly, as if he were talking to a five year old.
"Obviously," she snorted.
Draco rolled his eyes. "You use it on the peels of citrus or anything you want to get an essence of and you rub back and forth on that thing's surface- sort of like grating cheese. Besides, you bought it. Shouldn't you know what it does?"
Ginny's jaw dropped. "And how do you know how to use a zester, Mr. I've-Had-All-My-Meals-Personally-Prepped-Since-I-Graced-the-Earth-with-My-Humble-and-Oh-So-Beautiful-Presence?"
Draco tapped his finger to his jaw thoughtfully. "That's not bad. I should get that on my business cards."
The redhead rolled her eyes. Obviously she was not going to get an explanation for Draco's curious knowledge of zesters at the moment. She made a mental note to quiz him about it later, and then grabbed another carrier bag, this one from Tiffany & Co, and cringed in anticipation when Draco snatched the receipt.
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"Well, that was fun," Ginny muttered sarcastically, lying on the floor, surrounded by tissue paper and empty carrier bags. Her purchases were now carefully sorted at the side, receipts filed away in a system Draco had created for her.
Draco snorted. "I've never seen so many useless things in my life. Now I understand why people go into debt as often as they do," he muttered. "I mean, a zester, honestly! Do you even cook? Be honest with me here, Ginny."
"Not the Muggle way," she murmured, cheeks reddening. "Well, I can make a few things the Muggle way. You know, an omelet, pancakes, summat like that. But when it comes to things you might need a zester for…well, not really."
Draco chuckled. "I knew it. You looked so shocked that I knew what it was, too."
"How did you know what it was? Did you know all along, or did you just make it up after seeing the item description on the receipt?"
He met her eyes and took a long sip of tea before responding. "Well, I've been a bachelor a long time. I usually employ a housekeeper who cleans my flat and does my cooking, but I do know how to cook, for when she has the weekends off. I like it. I guess I find it somewhat relaxing. And yes, I knew what it was the entire time, I just had a sneaking suspicion you didn't."
Ginny snorted. "A Malfoy cooks…for fun?"
Draco's eyes narrowed defensively. "Well, we all need a hobby. Besides, at least I can keep up with my hobby and remain in the black on my bank balance."
The redhead shook her head. "You remain in the black because you've always had money, Draco. Some of us don't know what that's like."
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After Ginny said what she did, it was like all the awkwardness of those years of family feuding had settled between the Weasley and the Malfoy right there in Ginny's living room, preventing a successful conversation from taking place again. Draco couldn't meet her eyes. He suddenly didn't blame her for shopping as much as she did. She was just trying to get a taste of the life he had taken so much for granted all these years. Guilt began to close in on Draco like a blanket, enveloping him completely. All those years I teased them…all those years I teased her…I'm part of the reason she's turned out this way. Obviously I didn't force her to swipe that credit card, but…I can't help thinking that she might not have if I hadn't made her feel ashamed of her lifestyle.
Shaking off the thoughts, Draco got up from the floor, stretching out his legs. "I think it's best if we leave it here for the day, Ginny."
She nodded, taking his teacup, and turned to walk him to the door, not saying a word. Draco walked a few steps ahead.
Reaching the door, he turned, and said softly, "Weasley, I'm sorry I was…the way I was to you back in school. It's obviously had bad effects on you, and I know that at least part of that is my fault. I just want you to know that I have changed a lot since then, and now I can look back and know…well…what I did was wrong. Really wrong. And I hope you'll forgive me. I don't want working with you to be awkward."
Ginny nodded. She was surprised, but the apology coming from the Malfoy seemed admirably heartfelt. He was honestly sorry he had made her life such a living hell. "I don't want it to be awkward, either," she ventured, meeting his eyes. "I appreciate, and accept, the apology."
Draco nodded stiffly. Apologies weren't his thing, especially apologies to family rivals, so he was glad she had accepted it the first go round. "Good. Well…see you Wednesday?"
"What's on the agenda for Wednesday?" the redhead asked curiously.
The blond man's features curled into a smirk. "Budgeting 101, Weasley. It should be good fun."
Ginny merely groaned in response, shutting the door behind the Malfoy as he exited. "Fun, indeed."
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Authoress' Note (Take Two): Review! They make me happy.