A/N-I'm pretty sure that the story's current rating covers the use of swearing, but if it does not, you have been warned.
There is also the possibility of more cursing from now on.
The Prince
Chapter 3
Two weeks.
It had been two whole weeks since he had heard from Ginny last.
This latest update had come in the form of an owl informing him of when she wanted to begin working on his new flat.
That had been Friday.
It was now Monday and, in just over an hour, he was expected to be outside of his compound to meet her.
He really shouldn't be this nervous. It's been four years, after all. He's moved on, found women more aesthetically pleasing than Ginevra Weasley. Yet, her spitefulness and malice toward him had only rekindled memories that he really should not be thinking about.
He needed to get out more.
* * * * * * * *
He was five minutes late.
If there was one thing Ginevra Weasley could not abide by, it was tardiness.
She stood outside of his compound clad in a pair of black skinny jeans, black suede boots, and a blood red, woollen, empire waist coat. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, but the mid-December winds were currently whipping stray strands into a frenzy.
She hiked her bag higher up on her shoulder before wrapping her fringed scarf tighter around her neck.
Didn't he realize how fucking cold it was outside?
Whenever his pasty arse decided to grace her with its presence, she was going to give him a right good piece of her mind.
She squinted at a figure about two metres to her right. Finally. Little blond bastard had decided to show up.
Draco's cheeks were flushed when he reached Ginny. He had been walking at a swift pace from Diagon Alley to the compound where Pansy's old flat was, about five blocks away.
He had sucked in a breath, in hopes of speaking, but Ginny cut him off. "Can I assume that you are going to be late from now on? I come here prepared to work, yet when I get here, my employer is nowhere to be found. Please, tell me what was so important that you couldn't take time out of your so-called 'busy schedule' to be on time for my appointment?"
Draco's eyes had turned to slate as Ginny finished her question, complete with air-quotes to punctuate her irritation towards him. He was a Malfoy. He did not have to deal with the likes of her.
"Why should I answer to someone like you? You don't even deserve to reside on the underside of my shoes. Why don't you just --" But Ginny had cut him off by shoving her portfolio into his chest.
"Fuck you, Malfoy. If I'm so beneath you, then you can just decorate your flat by yourself. Have fun!" And with a jaunty salute, Ginny turned and started walking down the street.
Draco opened the portfolio to Ginny's sketches. Her writing looked like cuneiform and was absolutely impossible to decipher. Damn it. Leave it to her to make her work only intelligible to her. He needed her.
He started running down the street after her, calling out her name. "Ginny! Ginny! Ginny, wait!"
She stopped only after his sixth call, slowly turning around to face him. "Yes?"
"Look. I'm sorry for being late. It won't happen again," he ground out, trying not to become aggravated at the smirk that was growing on her lips.
"Make sure that it doesn't, Malfoy. I do not appreciate it when my clients are late," she stated with a glare.
"Right. Here's your portfolio," he replied, handing her back the leather folder.
Like their last meeting, the tension was palpable. Ginny's eyes were fixated on a point in front of her, determined to prevent her eyes from wandering over to Draco. He glanced at her every now and then as they walked back to his compound, attempting to gauge her emotions. She seemed to be calming down now, but with Ginny, it could be hit or miss.
They quickly made the ascent up the stone stairs, pausing as Draco opened the door to allow their entrance. The trip up the flight of stairs to the flat proceeded in the same manner, only this time Draco fumbled as he tried to remember the combination of spells it took to unlock the wards.
Once inside, Ginny walked to the middle of the now empty flat and sat down on the floor, opening her folder on the floor in front of her.
Draco took off his cloak and placed it on the floor next to her before sitting cross-legged on it.
He watched as Ginny sifted through papers, a need to fill the silence growing within him.
"So, Ginny, what made you choose a career in interior design?"
"I've always loved drawing and patterns. That, coupled with how much I argued with McGonagall over the layout of Gryffindor Tower, led me to where I am today," she uttered, her eyes never leaving the folder or its contents.
Draco did not seem to notice. "I, for one, thought you would've done something more along the lines of painting. Your work is rather phenomenal," he replied, glancing down at her to see her reaction.
Ginny had the grace to blush at Draco's last comment; the pink flush was spreading down her cheeks to her neck (and further, as Draco recalled…). "Thank you, Mr. Malfoy."
Draco turned his attention to the folder, noticing the sketches, fabric swatches and paint samples scattered across its surface.
Ginny now turned to him, pulling out specific pages to illustrate her ideas. "For the entire flat, the colour-scheme will be Slytherin House colours, as you dictated. While your former House's décor is rather, well, gothic, in nature, this flat will be far from it. Really, the only place that will resemble it will be your study. Do you have any questions?"
"So my entire flat will feature only green, silver, and black?"
"I did have other colours in mind, just to not make it seem so monotonous or monochromatic, but I was unsure as to whether you would approve or not."
"What else did you have in mind?"
Ginny flashed Draco an impish grin, getting up to stand. "Come with me."
Draco had to admit that her expression had roused his interest, but at the same time it scared him. He remembered what that grin accompanied.
"This flat has five rooms and three bathrooms, including the Master Suite Pansy created," Ginny began, turning her head to make sure that Draco was following her. She stopped just inside the doorway of a bedroom. "This is where I was planning on having your study located. I know that you specified Slytherin colours, and all, but I really couldn't help myself. Anyways, with your study we have one of two options: decorate in the stereotypical dark, brooding, 'manly' fashion, or you can do something that's somewhat fun."
"And what exactly is your definition of fun?" Draco asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Well, from my understanding, you're a pretty big Quidditch fan, right?"
Why is she even asking me that? I thought that fact was blatantly obvious considering my position as Slytherin House Seeker and Captain, Draco thought, still perplexed.
"Yeah, but what does that have to do with my study?"
"I was thinking that you could indulge the kid in you a bit and make it a Quidditch-themed room. And before you even wrinkle your nose at the idea, just trust me; it would be done in a mature manner - nothing cutsey or kitsch. I've seen it done before, and I've done a man's study in a similar fashion, so I know what I'm doing."
"How would it be done?"
Ginny pulled out two sheets of sketch paper, fabric swatches and paint samples attached to each.
Draco glanced at the sheets Ginny proceeded to hand over to him, noticing that the first revolved around the Slytherin House team the years that he had attended Hogwarts, while the other was designed in regards to his favourite team, the Falmouth Falcons.
The Slytherin room was composed of dark mahogany, black leather and his former House's colours. Lining a side wall was a large floor-to-ceiling bookshelf; at its centre a glass display case holding Draco's Quidditch uniform and his old Nimbus 2001 - the name, Malfoy, in large block letters stamped on the robe. The bookcase's columns were serpents winding up to the top. The walls were forest green, while all the accessories, from the lamps to the paperweights, were silver.
Draco was in love.
"This is amazing," Draco uttered.
He flicked his gaze over to Ginny, noticing her smirk and smug expression.
"Look at the next one," she stated, pointing a finger at the papers in his hands.
The Falcons room was modelled in a similar fashion to that of the Slytherin House team design, except that instead of green and silver, the colours were dark grey and white, and Draco's uniform was now replaced with - "You can get me a jersey with my name on it?!" Draco exclaimed, snapping his head up to meet Ginny's gaze. He glanced down at the sketch again, "And a quaffle signed by the entire team?! Even I am unable to get anything from the team. Could you really make that happen?"
"Of course," Ginny replied with ease. "Knowing that Harry Potter is absolutely arse over teakettle for me does have its advantages."
"That is incredibly evil of you," Draco said with a mixture of awe and disgust.
Ginny waved a hand at him. "Oh, please. Like you wouldn't take advantage of that if you were me."
Draco considered this for a moment. "Too true. It's the mark of a good Slytherin."
"Are you calling me a Slytherin, Mr. Malfoy? Why, that might be the closest thing to a compliment I'll ever receive from you!" Ginny exclaimed, feigning joy.
"I do believe your job description does not include sarcasm."
"Only when I have to work with you, Mr. Malfoy," Ginny replied, giving Draco a beatific grin.
Draco rolled his eyes, trying to conceal the smile that was threatening to make an appearance on his face. "Just do your job, Ginny."
* * * * * * * *
In the end, Ginny convinced Draco to decorate his flat in colours that were decidedly not Slytherin in nature - blues, brown, white, and even some reds.
The only room that fit his initial description was the Master Suite. When Ginny suggested crimson and gold as a joke, Draco put his foot down, causing only the slightest bit of cowering on Ginny's part.
Draco also succumbed to the prospect of having a Falmouth Falcons jersey with his name on it, as well as a quaffle signed by the entire team; vanity be damned. There were just some things that he was unable to owning, even with his wealth and somewhat cleared name. Those articles just happened to be on that particular list.
Draco was also loathe to admit that he enjoyed his time with Ginny. He could tell that she was slowly getting accustomed to being around him again; their banter toward the end of the day was evidence of that.
Maybe with a little cajoling she would be up for meeting him outside of their working environment.
Draco stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes widened, and he shook his head to rid himself of such thoughts, much to the amusement of passerbys on the street.
She would pound me into a bloody pulp if I even hinted at such an idea, Draco thought as he continued walking. Maybe I should wait and see what happens.
A/N- Thanks to my lovely betas, Lady Laurelin and Lisa. As well as my friend, Chelsea, for giving me
words of encouragement.
Please review!