Ginny Weasley, Hit Wizard

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Harry Potter Universe, and I am not getting paid for this.

Many, many, many thanks (and a pie sized cookie) to Aerileigh, especially considering the limited amount of time I gave her.

~~~~~~~~

The softness against her back lulled her into an almost comatose state. She could hear the rhythmic sound of the Muggle ceiling fan whirring above her, and the cool air caused her to snuggle under the luxuriously soft comforter. A small breathy sigh escaped her lips, and she turned on her side, eyes closed. The exhaustion of the day seemed to seep out of her, and she began to drift off into the land of dreams. She could almost smell the salt from the ocean and feel the sand beneath her toes. But just as she went to clench her toes into the soft, beige grains, she was pulled from her dream by a rapid beeping noise.

"That can't be right," she groaned miserably. "I set the alarm for four hours from now."

She rolled over and saw a glowing red coin on the table next to her. A code red meant that there was an emergency. A half-laugh, half-sob escaped her lips as she ran her hands through her red hair and sat up in bed. Her body felt impossibly heavy as she grudgingly got out of bed and crossed the room, shoving her hands through the sleeves of the closest article of clothing she could find. The long-sleeved shirt coupled with a pair of low-slung jogging pants left a small amount of skin showing, but the redhead was past caring. With a sigh, she shoved her feet into a pair of clunky boots, pulled on a jacket, and grabbed hold of the coin. She tapped her wand to the coin and held on as a familiar sucking feeling pulled at her navel. Moments later, she appeared in a darkened alley to find two people already there.

"Ginny, why do you look like you're going jogging to a motorcycle club?"

"It's lovely to see you too, Astoria." Ginny smoothed back her hair, which she had thrown into a haphazard ponytail, and eyed the blonde in front of her with a small amount of distaste. "We left headquarters not thirty minutes ago. I can't possibly be needed for another assignment."

Astoria made a small motion with her head, directing Ginny's attention to the other person standing in the alley. His immobilizing stare and imposing presence would make any wandering Muggle or Wizard cower in fear and run in the other direction, but Marcus Flint did not scare Ginny Weasley—not anymore at least. She clearly recalled one moment in her first year when she had been stuck alone in a hallway with him—she ran. But gone was the scared Ginny Weasley; the pissed-off Ginny had replaced her.

"He knows. I do not," Astoria said.

"I needed a decent three-man team, Weasley," Marcus snapped. "Now pull yourself together and let's go. If you don't dally, you can be home to your twin bed in no time."

"Did you just say dally?" Ginny said, snorting.

"How do you know she has a twin bed?" asked Astoria with a raised eyebrow.

Ginny wrinkled her nose, laughter gone. "Flint wishes."

In truth, he wasn't bad looking. His line of work had gotten him injured more than once, and after one particularly bad face injury he'd had to regrow all his teeth. Someone (Ginny strongly suspected it was Astoria) had told them not to set his teeth back to their original glory, and he woke up with straightened teeth. The girls who flocked towards him didn't seem to mind, and Flint wasn't the type of man to care what he looked like. Once his teeth were fixed, his handsomeness really showed. He wasn't overtly handsome, but he had good bone structure. He was well-built, and, more than once, Ginny had admired his large, muscular physique during training.

"Wandering Eyes Weasley," Marcus taunted.

"Oh shut up. That was one time, and I was extremely tired," Ginny said, unable to prevent the heat from rushing to her cheeks. "There was nothing for me to look at anyway."

"I have the sense of smell of a wolf—"

"I thought you said no one was in there," Astoria said scandalously, eyes drifting between Ginny and Marcus. "You get naked in the locker room, Marcus? We girls tend to wait until we get to the showers."

Ginny didn't want to think too much about that particular time. She hadn't meant to see that Marcus Flint was extremely well-endowed, and she couldn't help her physical reaction. She was female and perfectly in her rights to feel that way, especially considering that, at that time, the only male warming her bed was her cat, Jax. It was a normal reaction, and she didn't have any feelings whatsoever towards Flint, except for that of a fellow, respected team member.

"This is ridiculous," Ginny exclaimed, raising her hands in defeat when Astoria prodded her with questions. "Flint has large dick. I was a woman who hadn't been shagged in ages, and I was tired. I took a mental picture and walked out the room. Now can we please get to this assignment?"

Astoria nudged Ginny with her arm. "Naughty, Ginny."

Marcus grinned with genuine amusement. "If I would have known, Weasley, I might have invited you in for a hot shower."

"Poke fun at the horny girl," Ginny said, hands on her hip. "Is this what you dragged me out of my extremely comfortable double bed?"

"It's a simple snatch and grab," Flint said casually.

"If it was simple, we would leave it to the Aurors," Astoria joked.

"Aurors don't like to get their hands dirty anymore, Astoria. We're the ones doing field work these days," Marcus said. "That's why we Hit Wizards are the ones with the hospital beds pre-reserved at St. Mungo's—"

"And the shit pay," Ginny said, causing Astoria to let out a short peal of laughter. "Back to the mission, I really hope you're not going to say—"

"We'll head back to headquarters and do a bit of paperwork when we're through," Marcus said, a small smirk on his face. "What were you hoping I wasn't going to say?"

"You know you're both going to saddle me with the paperwork. So let's not kid ourselves here," Ginny said, a tinge of disgust in her voice. "It's what I get for working with a bunch of Slytherins."

"No, Ginny, it's what you get for having decent handwriting," Astoria said, patting her gently on the back. "I'll bring you breakfast."

"Thanks, Astoria," Ginny replied sardonically. "The assignment?"

Marcus gave them the rundown of a routine assignment. Two men who had been suspected of Death Eater activity during the Second War were hiding out in a nearby warehouse. Usually, suspected Death Eaters were not high on their priority list, but these two men were dabbling in some illegal trading, which made them not only suspects, but criminals. The Aurors wanted to interview them in hopes of getting them to admit to their current crimes as well as squeeze out some information about any past crimes they may have committed. Under a new law passed by the new Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, any suspected Death Eaters could be questioned under Veritasserum. It had led them to many confirmations and incarcerations.

"Are we ready?" Marcus held up his wand to take down the wards that had been shielding them from view. "We should be in and out in less than ten minutes. Astoria tracked their signal here before we summoned you."

"Let's go," Ginny said tiredly.

She rubbed the heel of her palm against her right eye, hoping to rub the small amount of blurriness away. Ginny was both physically and mentally exhausted. The amount of work Hit Wizards had to take on in the current political climate led to a large workload, and Ginny found herself working long hours on assignments as well as behind a desk sorting out paperwork. It wasn't that the Aurors weren't working—they just weren't working on things that actually mattered. These days Hit Wizards didn't just capture criminals; they worked on tracking down dark wizards and apprehending them, a job that Aurors used to do. Hit Wizards were simply the net that caught the fish; they weren't supposed to be the fisherman planning the capture and picking the spot. Now though, things were different.

"Ginny!"

She snapped from her thoughts and inhaled the salty air of the dock. "I'm ready."

"Are you sure?" Marcus cocked an eyebrow, seemingly worried about her dazed state. "Maybe I should send you—"

"I'm here. I wouldn't have come if I couldn't take the assignment." Not entirely true, but she wasn't going to tell him she was lying. "Can we just get the bastards so I can at least go sit in a chair at the office?"

Marcus nodded and waved his wand in an intricate motion. Immediately, Ginny was assaulted by a strong gust of wind. She could now hear the sound of the water lapping against the boats in the harbor. They were by some Muggle docks, with a row of warehouses along the shore. They weaved their way through large metal containers, Marcus in front and Ginny in the back. Astoria was the middleman, the tracker. While they scoured the area, they protected Astoria, giving her time to do her job and track the magical trace of whoever they would be capturing. Ginny couldn't remember the names. Sometimes, they just weren't important.

A creaking sound caused Marcus to halt, and Ginny turned around, scanning the area for any sign of movement. There was nothing, and Marcus whispered that it must have been the wind. But Ginny didn't know if she believed him. Goosebumps were slowly rising on her arms, and she suddenly got the feeling that they were being watched by someone. As they walked away, the feeling got stronger, and her eyes danced from side to side, her body tense and ready to pounce at even the slightest movement.

"They're over there." Astoria pointed her wand in the direction of the dirtiest warehouse along the row. It looked to be abandoned, but the glow of Astoria's wand showed it reeked of magic. "Are we going to burst into the front door?"

They approached the large warehouse, and Marcus motioned for them to scout out the building. Ginny walked to one side, checking for any sign of a door or a window and finding none. She reported back to Marcus, who informed them there was a smaller door at the back. That left the large loading doors and the smaller entrance door next to the loading doors.

"The loading doors will be the least likely escape route," Marcus whispered as they hid at the side of the building with no doors or windows. "But there is the smaller door to worry about at the front."

"I'll stay here. You and Ginny can burst through the back door," Astoria said simply. "The first place they would go is through the back."

"Right, they would expect people to come in from the front, not the back," Ginny added. "The back gives them access to boats and water. They could easily jump in the water, and we would never be able to find them in the dark."

"The back entrance is more important to protect," Astoria said firmly.

"You stay out here. When the coin heats up, count to three and burst in," Marcus ordered. "Got it?"

Astoria nodded. "Yes."

Ginny squeezed Astoria's arm, her wish of good luck, before following Marcus to the back of the warehouse. Ginny pointed at a window and snuck under it, slowly peeking inside the room. She ducked her head down as soon as she got a good look and nodded to Marcus to follow her to the door. There was no one on the docks, the entire area darkened, except the dim glow of a lamp further down the boardwalk.

"There are four men inside at a table in the center of the room. It looks like they're playing Exploding Snap," Ginny said with a slight grin.

"The game of criminals," Marcus said in an eerie voice.

She resisted the urge to laugh. "No perimeter guards that I could see."

"Let's do this then," Marcus said.

He rubbed the coin, and Ginny took a deep breath, waiting for him to make the move. No matter how simple the job, it always seemed nerve-wracking at the beginning. From experience, she knew her nerves would dissipate the minute they made their first move. The three seconds that Marcus counted down seemed to last for minutes, and she aimed her wand at the door, waiting with a steadied arm for him to say 'three.'

"Impedimenta!"

The spell shot from her wand, and the door blasted to pieces. She and Marcus ran inside and fired of quick stunning spells. Astoria stood at the front door, firing her own stunning spell at the sight of the four men. Before the criminals could even process what was happening, the three Hit Wizards had them stunned unconscious, with binding spells to ensure they would not escape. They did a check to make sure no one else was in the warehouse, and then their shoulders relaxed, knowing the job was complete.

"Quick and easy," Marcus said.

"Time to get them back to the Auror's office for questioning, and I shall do the paperwork," Ginny said somberly.

"I'll stay and help," Astoria said, looking at her watch. "It will be quicker with the two of us filling out the forms."

"I'm going home after we take them in," Marcus said, grinning when Ginny scowled at him. "You didn't expect anything less of me."

"You're right," Ginny agreed.

"I'll set up some wards to keep the place closed until Aurors come to inspect," Astoria said, walking around the room with her wand moving through the air. It only took her a minute before she came back to the center of the room and joined Ginny and Marcus to round up the men on the floor. "Time to go then."

"Get your Portkeys ready," Marcus said.

Marcus pulled the coin out of his pocket and tapped his wand to it, whispering a spell that Ginny knew all too well. It was the spell that would allow them to Portkey directly to the Ministry. He stooped down and grabbed two of the men, clenching the Portkey in one of his hands. Before Ginny could tell him that was a bad idea, he was gone from the room.

"Always hasty," Astoria said and grabbed the arm of the third man. "See you soon."

Ginny followed soon after, taking one last look around before disappearing, her mind falling back to the feeling of being watched she had gotten earlier. For some reason, she couldn't quite shake the feeling.

~~~~~~~~

"Bugger it all!" Astoria slammed her hand down on the parchments on her desk and dropped her head to the desk. "You would think they would have invented shorter paperwork by now."

"Or, at the very least, allowed Quick Quote Quills," Ginny mumbled, shuffling through the pile of parchment on her desk. "The stories might be less boring to read, too."

Astoria giggled, twisting the ends of her blonde hair and staring absently at the clock. "I'm supposed to be going on a date tonight. How am I going to go on a date with black circles under my eyes?"

"You're a smart girl. You'll figure something out," Ginny said, only half-listening to Astoria. Her head was down and brows furrowed as her Self-Inking Quill moved rapidly across the parchment.

Astoria huffed and tossed a balled up piece of parchment at Ginny. "You're not even paying attention to my plight."

"Bloody hell, Astoria," Ginny cried as the parchment hit her on the head. "I'm trying to finish this so I can go home and go to bed. I'm fucking exhausted."

"No need for that language, Ginevra," Astoria scolded lightly.

"Go home," Ginny said coldly. "I'll work faster by myself."

"No, I—"

"Astoria, I outrank you. You cannot defy a direct order from a superior." Ginny pointed to the door. "Get out. You're not doing anything to help me, and I am going to hex you before the sun comes up. So leave."

"I don't think I care for your attitude," Astoria said with crossed arms.

"Astoria, leave. I've had enough of you for one night," Ginny said, trying to keep her temper in check. "All you're doing is complaining, and I'm going to have to check over all your work anyway. So it's better if I do it because I know I'll do it right the first time around."

Astoria stood up and grabbed her coat, glaring at Ginny. "You've only been here a few months longer than I have."

"I'm a better Hit Wizard for it, too," Ginny snapped.

Astoria dropped a pile of parchments on Ginny's desk and stormed out the office, not bothering to look at Ginny. For her part, the redhead simply shook her head and sorted through the parchment, tossing all the useless scrolls. She knew it was a bad idea to accept Astoria's offer of help. The blonde girl was far better in the field than she was behind the desk. It was well-known that she couldn't pass the written exams to become an Auror, so they stuck her down in the Hit Wizard department. In fact, that was how they got most of their employees. There were only two people in the department that had become Hit Wizards by choice: herself and Marcus Flint.

She brightened the lamp with a tap of her wand and bent over her desk once more. Ginny didn't waste any time stopping to stretch her aching neck muscles or massage her tired hand. She slogged through, answering the various questions as eloquently as she could at four in the morning. When the clock struck six, she dotted her last 'i' and dropped her quill onto the sheaves of parchment. She never understood why there was so much paperwork, especially about ethics. Even if anything was done unethically, no one would ever report it.

Ginny rubbed her eyes tiredly and stacked the papers into a neat pile. She slipped them into a heavy envelope and wrote the name of the case at the top. Once she was finished, she put her coat on and grabbed her wand and the envelope. The lights in the room extinguished with a wave of her wand, and she locked the office door behind her before walking down the hall to her superior's office. A slot in the window next to the door opened when she tapped her wand to it, and she slipped the file through, closing the slot after hearing the thud that signaled it was in the basket.

She walked to the lifts and nearly jumped when the doors slid open before she could press the button. She didn't expect to see a black-haired man coming off the elevator, his green eyes flashing with unconcealed anger. His face was twisted in a grimace, and Ginny couldn't decide if he was angry or in pain. Her eyes dropped to his clenched fists, which held a newspaper, and she knew that it was anger, not pain. She also knew that she wouldn't be going home.

"Hi, Harry," Ginny said, slightly sullen.

He looked her up and down, his grimace changing to a perplexed expression. "Why are you wearing that?"

"Because I'm going jogging to a motorcycle club," Ginny said dryly. "Now, I'm assuming you're not down here because of my attire, and I know you're not down here to see anyone other from me for obvious reasons."

Harry glanced towards the empty floor. "Have you seen today's Daily Prophet?"

"I've been here since three, so no." Ginny stuck her wand into the pocket in her jogging pants and reached for the paper. "I guess it's something bad."

"Didn't you guys check to see if you were being followed?" Harry placed the Prophet in her hand, raising his hand to rub his temples. "I don't even know where to begin on this one."

Ginny sighed when she saw the pictures gracing the front of the Daily Prophet. She hadn't been going insane when she felt someone watching her. There, on the front page, was a picture of her, Marcus and Astoria, creeping alongside the building. The figures weren't distinct, suggesting the picture was taken from far away. There were other pictures, most blurry, of Astoria bursting into the warehouse. The headline read 'Aurors Still Fighting Unneeded War!'

"We did things by the book, Harry. If anyone was in the area, Astoria would have picked it up." Ginny closed the Prophet, not bothering to read the article.

"We're going to have to do things by the books too, Gin. You know that," Harry said. He shot her a meaningful look and pushed his glasses up on his nose. "I don't want to, but Robards won't make it an option."

"You're going to open an investigation, aren't you?" Ginny crumpled the paper and tossed it into a nearby waste bin. "You know what this will do to the department, right? The few people who do wander down to work here are doing it because they failed the Auror exams. No one wants to be a Hit Wizard, especially not now."

"Ginny—"

"No, Harry," Ginny said, crossing his arms. "You and your blue-robed coworkers sit in your cubicles everyday and work on petty cases while we fight ex-Death Eaters and end up in St. Mungos. When was the last time that you've been to the hospital to visit an Auror, Harry?"

"I—"

"Not since you first signed up and one of the trainees got hit with one of your spells." Ginny leaned in and poked Harry in the chest. "Aurors don't lift a finger anymore. We're the ones dealing with the dark wizards while you handle petty criminals and hang your accolades on your cubicle wall. We don't get a single shred of recognition for all the things we do, and your department doesn't even help us when we need it. Oh, and let's not forget that your department is the umbrella that ours stands under, but you guys don't even stop by to check on us when we get hospitalized. Merlin's beard, Harry, we don't even get paid well. All the funding goes to getting Aurors new uniforms rather than giving us lowly denizens a fucking raise."

"It's not my decision, Ginny," Harry said, clearly constraining his anger. "Tell me what you would have me do?"

"I passed through the Auror trainee program like it was a first-year course at Hogwarts, Harry. But you don't see me dressing up and playing the part of a hero," Ginny snarled. "I'm not faking the fact that I'm out there every single day bringing in dark wizards and having the Aurors tell the press that they walked in of their own accord."

"You know what the people—"

"I don't want to hear about what the people think." Ginny shook her head. "People forget that if we give these ex-Death Eaters a chance to regroup, another dark lord will rise."

"Now you're being dramatic," Harry said, trying to lighten the mood.

Ginny snorted. "I'm going home. I'll see you in a few hours when Gumboil calls me in to sort out this mess."

"Can I buy you breakfast?" asked Harry, rubbing the back of his neck.

She stabbed the lift button violently with her finger and stepped on when the doors open. Before they could close, she glared at Harry and said, "You can't bring me news like this and expect you can charm your way into my knickers with some breakfast, Harry."

His cheeks flushed red. "I wasn't—I mean I didn't, not that it wouldn't be nice."

"Fuck off, Harry."

The lift doors shut, and she found herself hanging on as she spiraled to the Atrium. She stepped off the lift and Flooed to her small apartment, located in Muggle London. It was nothing more than one big room with a kitchen and bathroom attached, but she found that it was enough space for her. She didn't have much furniture: a bed, a side table, a sofa, a bookshelf and a stand for her wireless. Everything still looked as if it were new because she was rarely home to use it. If it hadn't been for the rumpled bed and clothes strewn across the room, it would look rather barren. A tiny Kneazle crawled out from under a pile of clothes when Ginny sank down onto her bed. It jumped onto her lap as she toed off her boots and tossed her jacket onto the floor.

"Hey there, Jax. What have you been up to while I was gone?" She carefully set him down on the bed and shimmied out of her pants before climbing underneath the covers. "I need some sleep, Jaxy-boy. Think you can manage to keep things uninteresting out in the world?"

The Kneazle curled up by her waist, and Ginny smiled, rubbing his spotted fur. She didn't bother to dwell on what had happened over the last few hours. Instead, she closed her eyes and tried to recall the dream she had been slipping into hours prior. The sand and calming water called to her as the fan above her whirled rhythmically. Soon, she was fast asleep, her breathing even with that of her sleeping Kneazle.

~~~~~~~~

Written for the Rags to Riches Ficathon on LJ. Prompts: St. Mungos/Aguamenti/Gloves

Author's Notes: I confess that I warred with this story (and my beta--well not warred, she said no and I agreed) because I wanted it to be full of details, but alas, it was not meant to be (mostly because of time). Secondly, the title is--well, it just is, and there's nothing else to say on the matter, except that titles are just one of my many weak points.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Potter Universe.

Thanks so much to my beta: Aerileigh.

~~~~~~~~

The sun shone brightly into the one room apartment and the sound of the hustle and bustle on the Muggle street below came through the thin material of the walls and the windows. Â A blaring car horn caused the sleeping redhead to jump out of her sleep, eyes wild and hair in disarray. Â She wiped a little drool from the side of her mouth, wrinkling her nose in disgust at both the saliva and her body odor. Â She smelled more than a little ripe, and beads of sweat were shimmering along her arms. Â It wasn't until she looked up and saw the still blades of the fan that she realized her power was out.

“Damn these stupid Muggle bills,” she muttered, throwing her covers off and getting out of bed. Â Jax made a mewling sound as he hopped off the bed and arched his back, his lion-like tail sweeping against the floor. Â “I bet you're hungry.”

Ginny padded across the room and into the kitchen, opening one of the drawers and the cabinet underneath it. Â She took a small green book out of the drawer and closed it before taking Jax's food from under the counter. Â He seemed to enjoy Muggle cat food more than any other food, especially more than anything she bought at the Magical Menagerie. Â She filled his bowl and put some fresh water down before flipping open the green book and grabbing the phone from the counter. Â Ginny dialed one of the numbers in the book and hopped on the counter to wait on hold.

When she had first decided to take up her position in the Department of Law Enforcement, she had assumed it would be a glamorous job. Â Hermione had once made Ginny watch a Muggle movie about a man who lived his life as a secret agent. Â For some reason, Ginny assumed that Aurors had secret aliases and caught all the bad guys. Â It was the reason why she had gotten a Muggle apartment. Â She could easily connect the fireplace to the Floo network in order to feel connected to the Wizarding world, but she also had somewhere to escape when things got `rough' during work.

Of course, when she went through the Auror trainee program and became an Auror, she found that the reality was much different from her imagined world. Â Aurors weren't doing anything important. Â The public was fed up with war times and tired of hearing about deaths and prisoners in the Daily Prophet. Â There was an outcry for peace which Ginny understood on some level, but she didn't understand why the public thought peace would simply fall into their hands. Â For some reason, the fact that Aurors kept searching for Death Eaters had become a big political problem, and the government was accused of preferring to stay in a war-state. Â The continued pressure from the public and the constant threats that the Ministry and anyone wearing an Auror badge received, became too much for the Minister. Â So, in secret, the Hit Wizards began to do the job of Aurors.

In essence, the Hit Wizards were told to find and capture the dark wizards. Â They had to track down the ex-Death Eaters, capture them and bring them into the Aurors, who then told the press that the villains were turning themselves in. Â The public gobbled up the lie and thought that the notion of peace was winning over even the darkest, most dangerous wizards. Â They seemed to be under the impression that these ex-Death Eaters wanted peace as well and were turning themselves in for the `cause.' Â Ginny snorted at the idea.

“Hello?”

Ginny jumped when the voice sounded on the other line. Â “Er, sorry. Â Hi, my name is Ginevra Weasley. Â I'm calling because my electricity was shut off.”

She waited for the lady to pull up her account information and cut the woman off before she could lecture her on paying her bills on time. Â Ginny reminded the lady that she was set up for an auto-payment, curbing her urge to color her speech with a few well-placed curses. Â It wasn't her fault that they didn't take the money out of her bank account as she requested them to do from the moment she had started living in her flat one year prior. Â Hanging up the phone, she lifted her arm, took a whiff, and gagged.

“I need a shower,” she said to Jax. Â She swore he mewled in agreement. Â “What do I need a boyfriend for when I have you?”

She stripped her shirt off as she left the kitchen, tossing it onto a pile of clothes that she assumed was dirty. Â Shimmying out of her knickers and hanging her bra on the doorknob, she stepped into her darkened bathroom. Â The lady had assured her that the power would be back on within the next two hours, but that didn't help her now. Â Naked, she walked back into the main room and grabbed her wand, letting out a small yelp when a male voice sounded behind her.

“You might want to put some clothes on, Weasley. Â Gumboil wants to talk to you.”

“Fuck, Marcus,” Ginny said, yanking her covers from off the bed and covering herself. Â “How long have you been there?”

“Long enough to see your ass wiggle,” Marcus said, coal eyes glancing up and down her blanket covered form. Â “You've seen mine, now I've seen yours.”

Ginny laughed. Â “I suppose.”

“Gumboil wants to talk to you,” Marcus repeated, his voice becoming grave.

“I need a shower first,” Ginny said. Â “He can yell at me when I'm clean.”

Marcus's disembodied head bobbed in the fireplace. Â “I'll let him know you'll be in as soon as possible.”

“Tell him whatever you want,” Ginny said disinterestedly. Â She dropped the blanket and sashayed to the bathroom door. Â “I am going to take a shower.”

“You're one of a kind, Weasley,” Marcus muttered before the green flames disappeared.

Ginny shook her head and whispered, "Lumos."

Her wand lit up the bathroom, and she turned the tap on, stepping into the shower. Â When she had first started working with Marcus, he was still the unattractive boy he used to be when they attended Hogwarts together. Â He had an amazing physique though, something which had not changed. Â They began working together instantly, and Ginny found the once aggressive boy to be a man with a good sense of humor. Â Perhaps it was because they had to build up trust in order to work in their field together, or maybe it was because they simply got along well, but she was at ease with him. Â Still, she couldn't bring herself to think about shagging him.

She shut the shower off and wrung out her wet hair. Â Jax was lying in the doorway waiting for her, and she grabbed her fluffy blue towel from the rack, then dried off and wrapped it around her torso. Â With a wave of her wand, the bathroom became dim again, and she recited a drying spell for her hair before exiting the bathroom. Â Within minutes, her hair was pulled back in a semi-neat ponytail, and she had dressed herself in a pair of slim, gray trousers and a fitted black shirt.

"Wish me luck, Jax," Ginny muttered.

She slipped on her boots, tucking the hem of her trousers them. Â She threw on a pair of regular black robes, grabbed her wand and cast a cooling charm in the room, in case the power didn't come back before she came home. Â Walking over to the fireplace, she grabbed some Floo powder, tossed it into the flames and said, "Ministry of Magic."

~~~~~~~~

"How could you not have picked this up? Â I have two of my best working on this assignment, and you fail to pick up a photographer."

Ginny rarely spoke to Alastor Gumboil, her supervisor. Â He had said upon her arrival that if he saw too much of her, it wasn't a good thing. Â The only time that any of the Hit Wizards saw Alastor was if they were in trouble. Â The man had a profound ability to make anyone feel like they were cockroaches stuck beneath his shiny black boot, even though he looked more friendly than mean. Â His soft gray hair and kind eyes were deceiving because he acted more like a hard-ass than like a friendly old man. Â Â Right now was no different, and Ginny shrank back in her chair as Marcus sat stoically by her side.

"As if I didn't have the Auror department breathing down my neck already," Alastor spat, his palms resting against his desk, head bent forward. Â "The younger bunch were getting sloppy with their work, bringing in the criminals injured, and as you know, there's been speculation in the press that there's a secret war going on."

"Isn't there?" Marcus asked, the side of his lip turning up.

Alastor growled and slammed his hands down on the desk. Â "Do you think this is funny? Â We're going under investigation, Flint, an internal investigation. Â Do you have any clue—"

"Alastor, with all due respect, yelling and getting your blood pressure up isn't going to change anything," Ginny interrupted, glancing sideways at Marcus's clenched fists. Â "Everyone in this room is here by choice, and everyone outside this room is not."

"What are you getting at, Weasley?" Alastor asked, arms folded.

"That perhaps there is a mole in our department," Ginny said nonchalantly. Â "Who out there really signed up for this job? Â What's stopping anyone out there from leaking to the press so they can get out of this hell hole? Â They all wanted to be Aurors, strutting around in fancy, blue robes and getting some attention for their good deeds. Â None of them wanted to be the silent, masked hero."

Marcus scoffed at her side. Â "The robes are bloody ugly if you ask me."

Alastor sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Â "You're only repeating ugly truths I'm already aware of, Weasley."

"Then why are we the ones being scolded?" asked Ginny, sounding only slightly petulant.

"For not picking up on this," Alastor said moodily, tossing the Daily Prophet to the ground. Â Â "I didn't want the Aurors investigating our department and feeling that they were better than us."

Ginny sighed. Â "We can't do anything about it, Alastor. Â Nothing we do will change their minds, and if there really is a mole, maybe it's time for an investigation. Â How can we do our jobs if we can't trust our coworkers?"

"That isn't the point," Alastor said agitatedly. Â "I would have rather done the investigation on my own, in a way that I see fit. Â When word gets out, the little respect that people held for Hit Wizards will be gone. Â People don't understand the pressure and the stress we're under with the current politics."

"But that isn't anything new," Ginny hedged. Â She knew she was treading on dangerous territory, and Alastor looked ready to spontaneously combust. Â "Even before our job description changed, Hit Wizards weren't exactly the most well-respected group in the bunch. Not that I'm saying that as an excuse."

"We didn't get any recruits," Alastor said, shaking his head and letting out a resigned sigh. Â "Usually, we get at least one or two unlucky fellows straying down here after failing the Auror exams, but they all decided to refuse the offer. Â No recruits and a possible mole in the department reflect badly on me, and I'm afraid they won't keep me on too long."

"You've been head of this department since some of us were in diapers. Â They can't fire you," Ginny said.

Alastor smiled sentimentally and sat down. Â "Go find something to do while I deal with cleaning up this mess."

"I'm taking a personal day," Flint said.

"He has to go get a manicure, Alastor. Â His nails look bloody awful," Ginny teased.

Alastor chuckled. Â "Leave it to you to make me laugh at a time like this, Weasley."

"I do what I can," Ginny said with a smile.

"You're looking a bit peaky too, Weasley. Â You could do with a day off," Alastor said, waving his hand. Â "I've got some people working on new leads for us, so you might as well leave."

"You could use some beauty rest," Marcus said with a wink.

Ginny stuck her tongue out at him as they left Alastor's office. Â As they passed by, people popped their heads out of their cubicles to stare at them, and Astoria leaned against the door jamb of their shared office, her eyes following their walk towards the lift. Â Ginny looped her arm through Marcus's much larger one, furrowing her brows when she realized that his gaze was on Astoria, his arms tense. Â But when he caught her looking, he quickly looked away and led her onto the lift.

"Alright there, Marcus?" Ginny queried, touching the button for the Atrium.

"Fine," Marcus said, his eyes thoughtful.

"What did you need a personal day for? Â I'm assuming it isn't for a manicure," Ginny said with a teasing lilt.

"I'm visiting a friend," Marcus said cryptically. Â "Going home to sleep?"

"I should, but I'm going to St. Mungos." Â Ginny saw him stiffen out of the corner of her eye and wondered why. Â She didn't bother to ask, knowing that Marcus would not be forthcoming. Â "I like to visit and bring the kids treats every now and again."

"Trying to match Potter's sainthood?" Marcus asked when they stepped off the lifts.

"Funny," Ginny said, slightly bitter at the mention of Harry. Â She knew he wasn't personally responsible for the investigation or the trouble the department would undergo, but she also didn't feel like giving him a reprieve, since he represented what she hated about the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Â "I'll see you in the morning, Marcus."

"Bye, Weasley," Marcus said with a wave.

~~~~~~~~

An hour later, Ginny ascended the stairs that would take her to the first floor of St. Mungo's. Â She had started her rounds at the hospital after her first injury on the job. Â Her leg had broken in a few different places, and during recovery, she was required to walk around to help her leg get back into shape. Â While walking through the hospital, she had spotted two little girls playing in the hallway. Â The mediwizard had informed her that they were twins, bound to the hospital because they had been bitten by a werewolf. Â That in itself was sad, but the fact that the werewolf had killed their parents was heart-wrenching. Â In her own way, she felt that playing with them that day, and the days after, was her way of giving back to them, helping to recompense the loss of their parents. Â But she knew it would never make up for it.

Ginny pushed open the door to the ward and stepped back as a Healer came rushing past her. Â Ginny recalled a time when she went around the ward to bring cookies to the patients and got yelled at by a Healer for being in the way. Â Ginny shook herself out of her thoughts when one of the Trainee Healers approached her.

"Hi, Romilda," Ginny greeted. Â It had come as a shock when she had first seen Romilda working at St. Mungo's. Â She seemed too glamorous for such a job. Â In all truths, Ginny had expected her to be on some rich bachelor's arm, but instead she was training to become a Healer, and she had turned out to be rather friendly and polite, a complete turnaround from her persona at school. Â "How are you?"

"Hello, Ginny. Â We haven't seen you around here in a while." Â Romilda took a quill out of her bun and scribbled a note on her chart. Â "I'm doing well. Â How about yourself? Â I take it you haven't been getting yourself injured lately."

"Work has been busy, but not dangerous," Ginny replied, eyes flitting to the room behind Romilda.

Romilda nodded. Â "Well, the girls will be happy to see you. Â They asked if they could send you a letter, but I wasn't sure if that was alright with you."

"They can write me whenever they'd like," Ginny replied with a pang of guilt. Â It had been weeks since she last visited. Â "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner. Â Work has been keeping me away."

"Go on in," Romilda said, pointing to an open room door. Â "They just finished having their blood taken, and will do well with some cheering up."

"Can I take them to the courtyard?" asked Ginny, brow furrowed in worry. Â "Are they alright?"

"It's a nice day outside. Â I don't see why not." Â Romilda tapped her chin thoughtfully. Â "I'll run and ask Healer Smethwyck, and I'll let you know."

"Thanks, Romilda," Ginny said sincerely. Â "I would love to take them out to make up for me being away so long."

"I'll make sure to put in a good word," she said with a wink before disappearing down the hallway.

Ginny walked to the doorway and stood in the entrance, observing the twins. Â Evelyn and Esmerelda were both nine years old and identical in looks: shoulder length black hair, enchanting blue eyes and bright smiles. Â Ginny visited all the kids in the hospital and brought them cookies, but she had a special place in her heart for the twins. Â She felt protective of them, and at one point she had wondered what it would have been like to have them as her own children. Â Ginny had even researched adoption. Â But when she ended up in the hospital two weeks later after a duel with an ex-Death Eater, she realized that she couldn't possibly take them on as her wards. Â If something were to happen to her, they would be forced to suffer the loss of another parent figure.

She watched from the doorway as Esmerelda, who was the bossy one, tugged on her sister's plait and told her that her ribbons didn't match. Â Ginny couldn't help but to smile, knowing that these twins would grow up and be like her brothers. Â Perhaps that's what made her feel so connected to the girls; they reminded her of what Fred and George used to be and now could never be. Â Her heart felt heavy as she wished upon all things good that these girls would never have to suffer the heartache that she knew George felt.

Evelyn spotted her first and jumped to her feet in excitement. Â "Ms. Ginny! Â Ms. Ginny!"

"Evie, what have I told you?" asked Ginny, giving the girl a mock stern look.

Evelyn looked down, deep in thought. Â "Um—"

"Not to call her Ms. Ginny, silly" Esmerelda chimed in, wrapping her arms around Ginny's legs. Â "Where've you been, Ginny?"

"Doing boring grown up stuff," Ginny said, wrinkling her nose and kneeling down. Â "It's been awful."

"You should come and stay here with us," Esmerelda said. Â Evelyn nodded vigorously behind her. Â "You can help us with our painting project."

"Painting project? Â That sounds exciting," Ginny said, kneeling down by the child-sized table. Â "What is it about?"

Esmerelda launched into a tale about the new art project that their tutor, hired by the hospital, had assigned them. Â Ginny listened intently, nodding when appropriate and glancing about the room. Â In her three week absence, they had taken the hospital beds out of the room and turned it into a regular room. Â Two small beds sat on one side of the room, and a wardrobe and an activities table occupied the opposite side. Â Signs of the hospital remained, including a prominent basket with their potions next to the bed.

"Ginny?"

Ginny turned around and saw Romilda at the doorway. Â "Yes?"

"Healer Smethwyck said that's fine," Romilda said with a nod. Â "Only for an hour though. Â They have to get a treatment this afternoon."

"Thanks, Romilda," Ginny replied.

"No problem." Â Romilda waved at the girls. Â "Have fun."

"Ginny, what's she talking about?" asked Evelyn, cocking her head to the side.

"I have a surprise for you girls," Ginny said conspiratorially. Â "We're going outside."

Esmerelda screamed in delight. Â "We get to go outside?"

"Yes, but you have to promise to be good this afternoon when you get your treatment," Ginny warned. Â "If you don't, we can't go outside ever again."

"We'll be good," Evelyn promised, eyes wide.

"No biting the Healer when he gives you your potion," Ginny said, biting back the laughter that threatened to bubble forth upon remembering Romilda telling her the story. Â "Now, let's go up to the Tea Room and get some biscuits and juice. Â We can have a picnic."

"This is so awesome," Esmerelda said, grabbing onto Ginny's hand.

Ginny held out her other hand for Evelyn and led the two girls out in the hallway, where they took the lift up to the fifth floor. Â The girls immediately ran over to the display of treats, and Ginny laughed when they pressed their noses up against the glass casing. Â When she moved to join them, she spotted a head of black hair out of the corner of her eye and turned to see Marcus Flint sitting with none other than Draco Malfoy.

"Marcus?" Â Ginny didn't gape, but she was close to it. Â "What are you—"

"Ginny!" Â Esmerelda ran over to her and tugged her hand. Â "Can I have one of the big cookies? Â Please?"

Ginny smiled at her and ruffled her hair. Â "Sure you can."

When she looked up, Marcus and his companion were staring at her. Â Ginny hadn't seen Draco Malfoy since the final battle at Hogwarts, when he'd been huddled in a corner with his mother and father, every bit the outcast. Â She really hadn't given him much thought over the six years since the war had ended and could only remember seeing a small article about him being free from all charges. Â She knew that Lucius went to Azkaban, though she couldn't recall for how long, and Narcissa was also acquitted, due to the help she'd given Harry. Â She didn't know why he was in the hospital, but she wanted to find out, if only to abate her curiosity. Â More importantly, she wanted to know what Marcus was doing with him. Â She tried to remember the two of them interacting at school and could only dredge up memories of Quidditch. Â They weren't ever seen together.

"Ginny," Esmerelda said, her voice perilously close to a whine.

"Right, your cookie," Ginny said, shrugging her shoulders when Marcus raised an eyebrow. Â She grabbed Esmerelda's hand and led her over to the counter where Evelyn stood. Â "Evie, do you know what you want?"

"A cupcake," Evelyn said, pointing at the large cupcake in the window. Â "Can I have it?"

"Sure," Ginny said. Â She smiled at the old lady behind the counter. Â "I'll have a chocolate chip cookie, a cupcake, a cherry scone and two apple juices."

She moved to retrieve her coin purse from inside her robe pocket but a hand on her arm stopped her. Â Ginny looked up and saw Marcus removing a Galleon and putting it down on the counter. Â The old lady smiled and handed over their treats, giving the girls two small pieces of chocolate as well.

"So these are the kids?" asked Marcus, looking at Evelyn and Esmerelda, who were staring at him curiously.

"I was going to leave you to your friend," Ginny said lightly, eyeing Draco with a bit of curiosity. Â "You didn't have to come over, or pay, for that matter."

"You could always give me back the money," Marcus said, placing his hands in his pocket.

"Not a chance," Ginny said, ushering the girls towards the door.

"Wait," Esmerelda said. Â She turned to Marcus and stuck out her hand. Â "I'm Esmerelda Bobbins. Â Who are you?"

"Marcus Flint," Marcus replied, shaking her hand gently, an unsure look on his face.

"Evelyn, don't you want to say hi?" Â Ginny barely concealed a chuckle when Evelyn's cheeks turned pink. Â "Evie?"

"Hi, Mr. Flint," she said shyly.

Marcus held out his hand. Â "Hello."

When Evelyn didn't reach out to shake it, Ginny smiled at him, whispering, "I think she likes you."

"Are you Ginny's boyfriend?" asked Esmerelda loudly.

Marcus's eyebrows shot up, and Ginny turned to look at Draco, who had suddenly started coughing violently. Â There was a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes, even as he tried to control his cough. Â Ginny shook her head and looked down at Esmerelda, who had also turned her attention to Draco. Â He didn't seem bothered that they were all staring at him, nor that his face was red from exertion.

"No, Esmerelda, Mr. Flint is not my boyfriend," Ginny answered. Â She glanced at Draco and said, "Does that satisfy your curiosity as well, Malfoy?"

"Who is he?" asked Esmerelda. Â "He has pretty hair like my doll."

Ginny bit her lip to restrain her laughter. Â "Yes, it's very pretty. Â Now let's get moving. Â We're taking up precious time. Â Everybody say goodbye to Mr. Flint and Mr. Malfoy."

"Bye," Esmerelda said with a large, flourishing wave.

Evelyn gave a small wave and a whispered, "Goodbye."

"I'll see you at work, Marcus." Â Ginny walked towards the door and gave Draco a small smile. Â "Bye, Malfoy. Â It was good to see you in non-ferret form again."

She didn't see the scowl he shot her, but she did hear Marcus' laughter. Â She spent the next hour playing outside with the girls, her mind constantly drifting to Draco Malfoy. Â There had been no hatred in those steely gray eyes when she had stared into them. Â He hadn't sneered at her as was his custom at school. Â He simply looked at her as if her were observing her, his eyes calculating. Â She wondered once more what he was doing in the hospital, and what Marcus was doing with him, the curiosity almost overwhelming.

"Ginny?"

"Sorry, Evie. Â What were you saying?"

Ginny tuned herself back into the conversation and banished all thoughts of Draco Malfoy from her mind—for the moment.

Disclaimer: I own nothing from the Potter Universe.

Many thanks to my beta Aerileigh. You rock my socks.

~~~~~~~~

"Ginevra Molly Weasley!"

A shrieking voice woke Ginny abruptly, effectively pulling her from a strange dream of walking down an endless hallway with Draco Malfoy, chased by clowns. She opened one eye and bit back a scream at the sight of her mother hovering above her, lips pursed. She had seen that look during her childhood, and it usually meant that she was in trouble. At twenty-two, she shouldn't be scared of her mother, but she couldn't exactly say that she wasn't terrified that she was about to be tasked with degnoming the garden.

"Hi, Mum," Ginny said, clearing her throat to rid herself of the hoarseness. "What are you doing here?"

"Never mind that," Molly said, hands on her hip. "Ginevra, I did not raise you to live like a pig. How do you even function in this mess?"

"I stay at the office?" Ginny said hesitantly, cringing when her mother began to rant about the mess. "Mum! Mum! Mother!"

Molly huffed and waved her wand to pile all the clothes on the floor together. "I think living in a Muggle environment made you forget that you're a witch. All it takes is a few spells to clean up."

"A few spells too much," Ginny muttered. She yelped when she found herself unceremoniously dumped onto the rug by her mattress. Above her, the blankets and sheets were arranging themselves neatly on her bed. "Mum!"

Molly tutted and shook her head. "And what are you wearing? Ladies don't sleep in their knickers."

Ginny giggled at the word 'knickers' coming from her mother's mouth. "I was raised among boys, Mum. I'm not a lady."

"Put some clothes on," Molly said, bustling about the room and picking up old copies of the Daily Prophet. "At this rate, you'll never find a husband, and I'll never get to plan your wedding."

Ginny eased herself off the floor and grabbed a pair of shorts from the pile of clothes. She shimmied into them and let out a jaw-cracking yawn. "I'm twenty-two, Mum, not thirty. I have time."

"I'll be old and shriveled when you get married." Molly dusted the bookshelf before spelling the rug to dust itself out. "And I promise to be as batty as your Aunt Muriel."

"Are you trying to convince me to have a wedding or not? I can't quite tell." Ginny smiled when Molly smacked her arm. "So what are you doing here, Mum? Not like I mind having you here cleaning up."

"The cheek," Molly said. She pocketed her wand and looked around the clean flat. "That's better."

"Looks nice," Ginny said, pulling Jax from under the bed. "Say hi to your grandmother, Jax."

Molly's expression was somewhere between a scowl and a smile. "I came to see what you're doing today. We're having dinner at the Burrow."

"I'm going to St. Mungo's today," Ginny replied. She walked into her kitchen and opened her cupboard, taking out a water glass. "Would you like some water?"

"No. Why are you going to the hospital?" asked Molly curiously. "You look a little peaky. Are you sick? Do I need to bring you some food? You're practically skin and bones."

"No, I visit some of the kids who are stuck there," Ginny said casually. She tried her best not to let any emotion show, because her mother could read her like a book. "I promised two of the girls that we could paint their nails today so I ought to get going."

"Ginny, does this have to do with—"

"No, Mum. It doesn't have to do with anything." Ginny went and got her wand from the side table and went back into the kitchen. Her mother was still staring at her expectantly, and Ginny ignored her. "Aguamenti."

"Ginevra?"

“Finite Incantatem.” Ginny gulped down half a glass of water before turning to her mother. "Mum, I have to go. I'll stop by the Burrow later."

"You shouldn't feel guilty, Ginny," Molly said softly.

"Love you, Mum," Ginny said before Molly Flooed out the apartment.

She wandered into her bathroom and glanced at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was a mess of limp tresses, her skin looked pale and peaked, and dark circles showed underneath her eyes. Her eyes traveled down her body to where she could see the faint outline of her hip bone. The stress of work was beginning to set into her body. It had been a week since the investigation was brought up, and now it was in full swing. Every day at work, Hit Wizards were being called into Robard's office for questioning, and Aurors stood around the department, going through files and staring at them with unsympathetic gazes. She turned around and twisted the tap of her shower. As the sound of running water filled the room, steam began to form and the mirror fogged over, obscuring her reflection.

Ginny smiled a little to herself. Sometimes she felt like steam was clouding her thoughts and obscuring her thinking. At least, she liked to give herself that excuse when she worked. The constant pressure of the public began to warp her thoughts, and, every now and again, she wondered if perhaps she was the enemy—if she was the one causing this continuous war. She had wanted to fight, which was why she joined up with the Hit Wizards instead of staying with the Aurors. Perhaps she didn't want peace after all.

She allowed the hot water to run down her skin, reveling in the scalding feeling of the water. Drops of water beaded on her skin and ran down the length of her body, sliding down the drain. She had once seen blood run from her skin in the same manner, the result of a duel with Walden Macnair. He had split the skin on her arm, and she hadn't screamed in pain or gasped in shock. She hadn't done anything but stand there, and then Marcus had yelled for her. Her wand went up in a flash, and suddenly Macnair was on the ground, bleeding from the chest. His blood had seeped out of his body, and his breath grew ragged. She had just stood there and watched unfeeling and uncaring as he took his last breath, her blood mingling with his on the floor as she stood over him.

Ginny pulled herself from her thoughts when the water began to run cold. She shut the tap off and grabbed the towel, willing herself to think of anything but blood and death. But she couldn't. It was her job; not all of their assignments were easy captures. She could count those on two hands, but she would need several hands and her feet to count the amount of times she ended up in a duel. She placed her hand on her bathroom mirror and swiped the steam away, staring at her blank reflection. She consoled herself with the thought that she could still count the deaths she caused on one hand.

"Barely," she muttered darkly.

She left the bathroom, flipping off the light, and went into the kitchen to feed Jax, who had been sitting at his bowl expectantly. A glance at her clock told her that she was running late, and she quickly went over to her wardrobe. The only clean items she had left were either winter clothes or dresses. She picked out a simple blue dress and threw it on, pulling on a pair of knickers underneath. Jax mewled behind her, and she let out a sigh, shoving her feet into a pair of white trainers and moving over to fill his water bowl.

"I'll be back later, Jaxy," Ginny mumbled, petting his head.

She took her wand from the kitchen, dried her hair and Apparated out of her flat.

~~~~~~~~

Ginny laughed when Esmerelda flashed her multicolored nails and danced about her room in excitement. She hadn't known that there would be a party at St. Mungos, but according to Romilda, they were throwing a summer gala and the girls had been invited. Evelyn was sitting on her bed, staring at her plain, pink nails with a bright smile on her face. Her personality was the opposite of her sister's, and Ginny knew she would grow up to be demure, quiet and brilliant.

"Ginny?"

"Yes, Evie?" Ginny performed a steaming charm on the girls' dresses.

"Will you come with us to the party?" Evelyn stared down at her nails shyly.

"I don't know, Evelyn." Ginny bit her lip when Evelyn looked at her with sad eyes. Romilda had invited her to the gala, since she was a volunteer at the hospital and it was an event honoring the hospital and its patrons. "I don't have anything to wear."

"But you could get something," Esmerelda said, hands clasped together. "Couldn't you?"

Ginny sighed. She knew it was a losing battle. "Yes, I can get something."

"Oh Ginny, it'll be like in the fairytale books. You can meet your prince." Esmerelda put her hand to her forehead and dramatically fell onto her bed. "You'll get married and wear a pretty crown and pretty dresses."

"What about your prince? Maybe you'll meet him tonight," Ginny said, sitting down on the bed next to Esmerelda. "I'm sure there's a handsome boy there who wants to dance with you."

"We have to dance?" Evelyn paled. "I don't know how to dance."

"Oh it's easy, Evie." Esmerelda grabbed her sister's hand and spun around the room. "You just float around the room. That's what one of the mediwizards said last night."

Ginny laughed and stood from the bed. "I ought to go get a dress then."

"Thank you, Ginny," Evie said, breaking away from her sister and wrapping her arms around Ginny's waist. "I'll have a lot more fun if you're there."

Ginny left the room and stopped to tell Romilda that she would be going after all. The black haired girl nodded in amusement, saying something to the effect that she knew the girls would convince her. Ginny knew those two girls had her wrapped around their fingers, and she felt happy about it.

She Apparated to Hermione and Ron's home and walked up the porch steps to the front door. She raised her hand and knocked on the door, and Ron answered, a small amount of surprise on his face. "Hey, Ginny."

Ginny hugged her brother and stepped inside. "Hi, Ron. Is your wife home?"

"Hermione," Ron called, closing the door and moving over to the chair next to the wireless. A bottle of Butterbeer told Ginny that he was listening to the Cannons Quidditch game. If it had been any other game, he would have been drinking Firewhiskey. "The Cannons are up by ten points."

"A miracle," Ginny said, laughing.

Hermione entered the room, holding a book. "Ginny! I haven't seen you in ages. How are you?"

"I'm alright," Ginny said, hugging Hermione. "Are you busy today?"

"Catching up on some light reading," Hermione replied, shaking the book she held in her hand. "But I could be persuaded to do something else."

"Good. I need you to come shopping in Muggle London with me." Ginny laughed when Hermione's eyes lit up. "I never pegged you for the type to love shopping so much."

"I love going into London," Hermione corrected. "Besides, while we're there, I'd like to get a few books for my collection. I've been trying to drag Ron out there for a while, but he's been busy at work."

Ginny frowned and said, "One favor, don't mention the word work, especially not work related to Law Enforcement."

"Ginny, can we talk?" Ron was standing now, an empty bottle in his hand. "Before you go."

"I'll go get my purse." Hermione set her book down on the fireplace mantle and exited the room with a knowing look.

Ginny held up her hand when Ron moved to talk. "Don't even bother. I've hashed this out with Harry already. I don't want to be mad at you too."

"I took myself off the investigation," Ron said hesitantly. "After Harry told me what happened between the two of you, I thought it was in the best interest of our family for me to not be involved. That's what I wanted to tell you."

Ginny grinned and walked over to him, embracing him tightly. "Thanks, Ron. I know that can't reflect well on you."

"They'll get over it. Mum always says family is most important," Ron said, patting her back awkwardly. "Hermione wouldn't let me hear the end of it either. You should really thank her. She was the one who put the idea in my head to begin with."

"You have a very smart witch on your hands," Ginny said, stepping back. "I realize that the investigation might be in the best interest of the entire department, but I was never the one to think of things in a broad picture. The investigation is going to ruin us, and there are all these rumors going around about Alastor's position."

"Hopefully the mess will be over soon," Ron said, sitting back down in his chair. "Now why are the two of you going into London?"

"I need a dress for the St. Mungo's gala tonight. Two of the girls that I see at the hospital when I volunteer want me to go," Ginny said with a shrug. "I couldn't say no."

"So we shouldn't expect you at dinner tonight?" asked Ron.

Ginny swore. "I forgot. Mum even stopped by this morning to tell me about it."

"I'll let her down easily," Ron said.

"Are we ready?" Hermione emerged a minute later, purse slung over her shoulders.

Ginny and Hermione Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron and exited out into Muggle London. Hermione hailed a cab for them, and soon they were zooming through London. Ginny relaxed and allowed Hermione to tell her about the new research she was doing on Pureblood laws. Ginny watched London fly by, a blur of colors and people, and only vaguely heard all that Hermione was telling her. She loved being in cars and feeling like an average person, not someone helping to orchestrate a secret war that she wasn't sure was entirely necessary anymore.

"So what are we looking for?" asked Hermione when they exited the cab. "I know I want my books."

Ginny repeated her earlier statement to Ron. "I just want something simple."

"These are the twins who were bitten by a werewolf?" Hermione pointed to a store with glittering dresses in the window. "Let's go in here."

"Yes, those are the girls." Ginny cringed at the sight of a feathery dress with ruffles.

"You're still volunteering at the hospital then?" Hermione took a teal dress from the rack and showed it to Ginny, who shook her head.

"I'm still volunteering. What about this one?" Ginny picked out a plain blue gown and held it up to her body. "I think it's nice."

"Are you okay, Gin?" Hermione removed the dress from Ginny's hand and hung it back up. "Ron told me what happened between you and Thorfinn Rowle last month."

Ginny saw Hermione tense at mentioning the name, her eyes glazing over slightly. She knew that Rowle was the one of the Death Eaters they had battled that night in London when they left Bill's wedding. Hermione had modified his memory. It had scared Ginny when she didn't feel anything from killing Macnair. But the cold, ruthlessness she had felt when Rowle fell by her feet, gasping for his last breath. She had watched in satisfaction as his eyes closed slowly, a sense of completed revenge encompassing her.

"I'm fine, Hermione," Ginny lied with a smile. "I've dealt with all of that."

Hermione didn't look convinced, but Ginny didn't give her a chance to question her anymore. "The function starts at six so I should probably get moving."

"Right," Hermione said with a nod. "I guess you're going to go with your traditional black then?"

"I don't know. I think the girls expect me to look princessy," Ginny said, glancing at a flowing pink gown. "And tonight is really about keeping them happy."

"You realize princessy is not a word, right?" Hermione laughed when Ginny pinched her. "Come on."

~~~~~~~~

In the end, Ginny had chosen a dress that satisfied both the princess feeling and her own edginess. The golden, shimmery gown she chose was simple, with thin straps extending down to a V neckline. It was slim all the way down to her hips where it began to flare, pooling at her feet. She would have passed the dress over if it hadn't been for the back—her skin was completely bared, with only a thin strap that held the top of the dress against her skin. The girls had fluttered around her in excitement, and Esmerelda had proclaimed that Ginny's shoes were the prettiest things she had ever seen.

"You two are the prettiest things I've ever seen. I could just eat you up. You look like such sweet confections." Ginny held out her hand for them to grasp. "Now, you're going to stay by my side or with Romilda, okay? No sneaking off."

"We promise," Esmerelda said excitedly. "Can we go now?"

Ginny shook her head, and they joined Romilda, Healer Smethwyck and Mrs. Smethwyck in the hallway. The gala was being held in the Tea Room at St. Mungos, which Ginny had found to be almost comical. The room didn't seem like the place to host any type of formal function. But when they stepped off the lifts, she saw she was quite wrong. Sheer white material hung from the ceiling, connecting above a gaudy chandelier, the light reflecting golden against the strips of material. The room had been completely cleared out and filled with tables that were decorated in white and silver. Soft tinkling music filled the room, the sound emanating from the front where an orchestra had been set up on the stage. A woman stood on stage, in front of the orchestra, her voice carrying throughout the room as she sang a jazzy number. The overall effect was magnificent.

Ginny joined her group at one of the tables, watching as the girls stared around the room in awe. Their gloved hands pointed every which way as they took in the splendor of the Tea Room, which had essentially been turned into a ballroom. There was even a dance floor set up in front of the orchestra stage. Ginny knew that several spells must have been cast on the room to expand it and silently commended the event planner for a fantastic job.

The evening started with a speech from the head of St. Mungo's, a robust old man, and another from his wife, who handled the donations. After the speeches were made and applause quieted down, dinner was served. The girls chatted idly by her side, commenting on all the ladies dressed to the nines. Esmerelda paused briefly to assure Ginny that she was the prettiest in the room, much to the table's amusement, before carrying on her conversation with Evelyn. When dinner ended, Healer Smethwyck and his wife departed to the dance floor, and Romilda left as well, dancing with one of the Healers that Ginny recognized from the first floor.

"Would you girls like to dance?" Ginny stood and held out her hand to help the girls up from their seats. Esmerelda immediately stood, but Evelyn shyly stared down at her white satin gloves. "Come on Evelyn. You don't have to be shy. I'll be right there with you."

"Evie, stop being so boring," Esmerelda chided.

Evelyn glanced up at Ginny before taking her hand, and the three departed to the dance floor. An hour passed by with the girls twirling hand in hand before Esmerelda began to yawn. Healer Smethwyck advised that they be put to bed, and Ginny, though she didn't want to, handed them over to Romilda. She couldn't defy the Healer's orders and knew that the girls shouldn't get too over exhausted. They complained about leaving but parted ways when Ginny promised to visit during the week.

She went over to the bar, deciding to have a final drink before ending the night. "I'll have a glass of champagne, please."

"Leave it to a Weasley to wear Gryffindor colors."

Ginny turned her head to the side, her face betraying no shock at the sight of seeing Draco Malfoy, though she was quite surprised. "They look good on me."

"Red hair and a gold dress," Draco said thoughtfully. "Color coordinating to match your house colors—cute."

"You're no better than I in that department." Ginny's eyes raked over his black tuxedo, which he had accented with a black shirt and a green and silver tie. She did her best to ignore the sudden warmth that spread throughout her at the sight—she had a weakness for a man in a tuxedo.

Draco chuckled, and the sound was odd to her ears. "Do you expect anything less from a Malfoy?"

"Do you expect anything less from a Weasley?" Ginny retorted, her hand closing around the champagne glass.

"Touche," Draco said, raising his glass, and Ginny noted it was filled with water. "So Weasley—"

"Ginny," she said, surprising both herself and Draco. "My name is Ginny, well, Ginevra, but Ginny for short. Weasley makes me think of my brothers."

"Ginny," he began, the name foreign on his tongue, "what brings you to a boring St. Mungo's gala?"

"I could ask the same of you," Ginny replied.

"Do you always avoid answering questions?" asked Draco, leaning his elbow against the bar and cocking an eyebrow. "Or is that just for me?"

"I volunteer here," Ginny said after a moment of silence. "The twins wanted me to come with them. Your turn."

He seemed hesitant, and his gray eyes flashed. His hand grasped his glass, and he took a sip before saying, "I'm one of the patrons here. I come to the hospital often, to help the days pass."

"Oh," Ginny said, not knowing what else to say. The idea of Draco Malfoy donating to a hospital and spending time there was a strange one. "That's interesting."

Draco smirked. "Shocked, Weasley?"

"It's Ginny, Malfoy," she said idly.

Draco's lips quirked into a smile. "I don't recall getting married, and my father prefers blondes."

Ginny shot him a wry smile. "A sense of humor. One more surprise out of you and I might need a bed here at the hospital tonight."

"I like to take the girls I sleep with to dinner first, Ginny. Of course, I could make an exception," Draco said lewdly.

"Have sex on the brain, Draco?" she asked, his name slipping from her lips softly. She leaned in closer to him, and a clean, crisp smell invaded her senses. "Be careful, you might ruin the Malfoy reputation if you keep flirting."

He moved closer to her, bringing his hand around to her back and touching bare skin. Leaning down, he whispered, "Considering the dress you're wearing, I doubt anyone would fault me."

Ginny repressed a shudder at the skin-to-skin contact. His thumb moved back and forth on her lower back, and words failed to come to her. No witty retort flew from her mouth, no crude remark. She simply stood there and stared into the inky depths of his eyes, wondering what he was thinking. Weasleys and Malfoys didn't flirt with one another. They hated each other, but his hand was distracting her from mustering up any sort of hatred she could possibly feel. His voice pulled her from her thoughts, and she listened as he asked her to dance the final dance of the night with him.

"Malfoys and Weasleys are rolling over in their graves," Ginny muttered as she allowed herself to be led onto the dance floor. They took a standard waltz stance, a little too close to be proper, and began to move around the floor. "So when did Draco Malfoy become so charming?"

His chest rumbled as he laughed. "I was always charming."

"Never to Weasleys though," Ginny pointed out, moving closer toward him. "I believe that's a new development."

"And when did Weasleys become so amicable towards Malfoys?" Draco raised a manicured eyebrow at her. "I believe that's a new development as well."

"You make a fair point," Ginny replied, the feeling of his hard body pressed against hers clouding her mind. "But you've changed."

"Haven't we all?" His eyes bore into her as the song ended. He stepped back and bowed. "It's been a pleasure."

"Likewise," Ginny said with a little nod, hands idly smoothing down her dress.

He smirked at her. "I'll see you around, Ginevra."

The shudder that ran through her body was barely imperceptible, but the glint in Draco's eyes told Ginny that he had seen, and that he had liked it. She watched as he turned away and exited the room, trying to figure out what had just happened between her and Draco Malfoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Harry Potter Universe.

I have to thank Aerileigh over and over for her beta work because she's so awesome (yes, I feed her ego daily).

~~~~~~~~

Ginny stared out the glass pane window with a soft sigh. Water streamed down the window in rivulets and a crack of lightning sliced through the sky. She thought idly of the boy with the lightning scar who was waiting for her in her office. She was being interrogated today by Harry and Robards. Apparently, Harry had been sitting in on all the interrogations—or rather, “queries.” They seemed to think interrogation was too harsh of a word.

She wondered what would happen if she were to close off her Floo and crawl back under the covers. She could hide away from the world in her little Muggle flat. But she wasn't the type of person to run—or hide—from her problems. She much preferred the suicidal tendency of facing things head on. Eventually, someone would come looking for her, and eventually, she would need to go in and do the query. If she didn't, they would suspect she was the mole, and though it hadn't been said, Ginny knew the mole would be facing time in Azkaban. Unhappy as she was, she wasn't suicidal enough to want to go there—there where she had placed so many of those prisoners. They would tear her to bits.

A clap of thunder caused Jax to hop on her lap as she wondered if being torn to pieces would be such a bad thing. Perhaps life was like a circle. She would go to Azkaban, and the prisoners would take out the revenge that they justly, or unjustly, deserved. It needed to happen so the cycle could be complete. Another flash of lightning broke through her inner thoughts, and she petted Jax, her hand heavy.

The alarm rang, and she shut it off, placing Jax down on the floor. “Go on and hide in the bathroom. There aren't any windows in there.”

Jax, understanding her, scurried into the bathroom, where she placed his food and water. She didn't know how long the weather would last so she had to make sure he was prepared. Ginny clasped her robe around her throat and stomped her left foot to push her feet further down in her boots. It was the one thing she had allowed herself from her normal wardrobe; the rest of her outfit was demure and professional.

“Wish me luck, Jax.”

She disappeared in a swirl of green flames and appeared in the Ministry. The walk to her office was short, and she spent the time analyzing what was about to occur. All the other `queries' had taken place in Robards's office, but not hers. She didn't know why she was different from the rest, but she did know that it didn't sit well with her.

As soon as she stepped on the floor, heads popped over the tops of the cubicles and peered out from behind copies of the Daily Prophet. She knew that meant that Harry and Robards were already in her office. Astoria, with whom she shared an office, was sitting on the desk of one of their coworkers, her arms crossed and eyes blank. Ginny didn't like that look at all. She took in Astoria's appearance, noticing the way she stood out against the sea of people who worked in the department. Her nails were manicured, her hair perfectly coiffed, her feet ensconced in pointed high heels. She was a delicate flower amongst a sea of overgrown bushes and untrimmed trees.

She entered their office and saw Robards sitting behind her desk, Harry standing directly to his left, and surprisingly, Marcus perched across from them on top of Astoria's desk. Suddenly, all those ill feelings resurfaced, and she had a new feeling running through her, like the world was about to come crashing down.

“Hello, Ms. Weasley,” Robards greeted. He had a set of reading glasses perched on his crooked nose and his black eyes stared at her in what she assumed should have been warmth, but it only chilled her bones.

“Sir,” Ginny said perfunctorily.

He motioned to Harry and Marcus. “You know Mr. Potter, of course, and work with Mr. Flint.”

The way he said `of course' made Ginny have the odd urge to hex both him and Harry. Even though the folder in front of him probably held hundreds of details about her life, it made her feel ill-at-ease to remember that he was very likely aware of her short-lived relationship with Harry.

“Yes, I do,” Ginny said, hanging her cloak on the rack by the door. “I was unaware that Mr. Flint would be in attendance.”

Harry beamed, as if he felt that Ginny should thank him for this, and said, “Well, we don't suspect either of you of being the mole.”

“Awfully nice of you, Harry,” Ginny said coldly.

Robards cleared his throat, covering Marcus's snort of amusement. “Ms. Weasley, feel free to sit down.”

“Thank you, sir,” Ginny said, the sardonic tone in which she said it only being recognized by Marcus, who smirked softly at her. She leaned back against Astoria's desk, crossing her arms in a pose similar to Marcus's. “So is this just for the sake of appearances?”

“Sort of,” Robards said offhandedly, eyes glued to the folder. “You and Mr. Flint have exemplary records. I'm sorry and a little surprised that we haven't been in touch more often. I like to commend my employees.”

“Hit Wizards don't like to be coddled, especially not for a job that they were supposed to be doing right in the first place. We don't need commendation for something that was required and expected of us,” Ginny said, her eyes falling to Harry, who was stoically standing by Robards, cheeks slightly pink. “But thank you.”

Robards gazed up at her with a slight look of confusion before he held his hand out towards Harry, who handed him another folder. “Now, you share this office with Astoria Greengrass, am I right?”

Shoulder to shoulder with Marcus, she could feel him stiffen. “Yes, I share this office with Astoria.”

“And how many times would you say you've worked with Ms. Greengrass?” Robards adjusted his glasses and dusted a strand of gray hair from the folder. “Ms. Weasley?”

Ginny didn't like the way he had asked the question, or the way Marcus had suddenly shut down. Nevertheless, she knew she was required to answer the question. “As you can see in the files, sir, I've worked with Astoria three or four dozen times.”

He nodded his head and pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Right, yes, I see. Would you consider Ms. Greengrass to be a respectable Hit Wizard?”

“By that you mean?” Ginny let the end of her question fall off, knowing full well what he was asking, but wanting to delay the process.

“Does she uphold the standards that Alastor and I have set for this department?” Robards set the file down and rested his clasped hands on it. “Is she worthy of her place?”

“More worthy than others, especially those whom you send down here because they failed an Auror exam,” Ginny replied.

If Robards picked up on the condescension in her tone, he didn't make it known, but forged on. “I am asking if she deserves her position when matched to some of the best like yourself and Mr. Flint.”

“The two of us are the rare cases, not Astoria,” Ginny replied.

She didn't like the idea that Robards was interrogating her about Astoria. Ginny and Astoria weren't the best of friends, but they were friends. Astoria was someone she could depend on to have her back when they were in the heat of a battle. To implicate Astoria as the mole would indeed break Ginny's world apart, because that was betrayal, and if there was anything that Ginny hated most in the world, it was betrayal. She was betrayed by Tom as a little girl, and she didn't plan on ever, in her life, repeating that emotional ordeal. Then there was, of course, Harry, the man standing right there in front of her. He had betrayed her in the worst way. She had given him her love, and he had tossed it back in her face. She wasn't important enough to be included in his life. He was too busy for her. Betrayal didn't sit well with Ginny.

Robards rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Ms. Weasley, I know that you understand my line of questioning, and I know that this is difficult for you. But I do need you to answer my questions honestly and without hesitation. These queries are not meant to be difficult.”

“Stop with the fucking queries,” Ginny snapped, her temper getting the better of her. “Let's call it for what it is, Robards, an interrogation. You haven't been having us over for tea to ask us about our day. You've been interrogating us. And now you want me to betray my friend--”

“Ginny, can she be considered your friend if she's betrayed you?” Harry butt in.

“I'm two seconds away from hexing you, Harry. I would keep my mouth shut tightly if I were you,” Ginny warned. She looked down at Robards who seemed shocked at her outburst. “Clearly you didn't talk to Alastor, or even Harry, before you came in to do this particular interrogation. If there are two things I dislike, sir, the first is betrayal and the second is beating around the fucking bush. So go ahead and ask what you need to ask. Be honest with your questions and I will be honest with my answers.”

Marcus bowed his head to hide his smile of approval before looking up again stoically. “I would have to agree with, Ginny, sir. If you plan on asking us to send one of our own to Azkaban for treason, at least do it openly.”

“I should have known better when I saw your files.” Robards snapped the two files shut, and almost instantly, his happy persona faded away. “Is Astoria Greengrass the mole?”

“It's a possibility,” Marcus said.

Ginny turned to him, shocked. “You think so?”

Marcus nodded, his eyes distant. “It makes sense. You and me, we like what we do. We don't mind the fact that our achievements go unnoticed. We're the odd ones. Astoria is different. She wants to be noticed and strives to get the attention that she thinks she rightly deserves.”

“So you're saying that there's a chance that Ms. Greengrass has been leaking missions to the press?” Robards stood up, his face eager. “And you didn't tell Alastor because--”

“I wanted to be certain before I started any trouble. Unlike Aurors, precision is needed in our line of work,” Marcus said, shooting a smirk at Harry. “We don't have the protection of those pretty blue robes. If we do something wrong, we get blamed, not a department. So I couldn't make a snap decision unless I had proof.”

“And you have proof now?” Robards pressed.

“I have speculation and a little research, which I'm assuming is the same research that you have that made you wonder about Astoria. She worked on all the missions that were leaked. At first, I didn't think much of it because she's a tracker, and we use her for almost all missions.”

“Yes, the same speculation we had as well.” Robards picked up the two folders and handed them to Harry. “With your insight into her character and her background, we'll be able to pull a plausible case. Hopefully, she'll confess.”

“Not likely,” Ginny whispered, still in awe at what had transpired.

“Right, well, that will be all. A job well done, Mr. Flint, Ms. Weasley,” Robards said, stepping from behind the desk. “I will be seeing you soon.”

He exited the office, Harry in tow, and Ginny whipped around to Marcus, who shook his head at her. “No.”

“I didn't—”

“You wouldn't have liked it if I told you,” Marcus said with a shrug. “I know you. You would have accused me of being a Slytherin and always suspecting the worst in people.”

“I would not,” Ginny said, though she knew it might very well be true. “I could have helped.”

“You don't know Astoria as well as I do,” Marcus said. He stood up at full height and gazed down at Ginny. “Don't take it too hard. She never belonged here.”

“Do any of us?” Ginny stood up and sighed. “What are we really doing, except continuing a war that everyone thinks is over?”

“We're preventing another war,” Marcus said. He tilted her chin up when she looked down at her black boots. “Peace and justice can't come without violence.”

“No nice talks over tea, then?” Ginny smiled when Marcus chuckled, but her face fell when she thought of Astoria. “We sit in the same office every day, and I never suspected a thing.”

“I'm the one who reads people, Ginny. You just kick ass,” Marcus teased.

Ginny knew he was attempting to lighten the mood and decided to go along with it. “Speaking of ass, Malfoy has a very nice one.”

“All our years of friendship, I don't think I've ever checked.” Marcus stuck his hands in his pocket. “I might sneak a peek when I go see him at the hospital today.”

“So he really does volunteer?” Ginny clucked her tongue and shook her head, missing Marcus's raised eyebrow. “Here I thought he was just trying to get in my knickers.”

“When has he had a chance to get up your knickers?” asked Marcus, clearly confused.

“At the St. Mungo's gala,” Ginny answered.

“He went to that? Interesting,” Marcus stated quietly.

“Yes, I guess he's obligated to since he's not only a volunteer but a patron. The more money you put in the hospital the more booze you get to drink,” Ginny joked. She leaned back against her desk. “Although he wasn't drinking so I don't really know why he was there.”

“Volunteer,” Marcus said thoughtfully.

Ginny took it as an answer to her musings. “I'm a volunteer, and I wasn't planning on going.”

Marcus checked his watch. “I'm going to head out early. I don't want to be here when Astoria gets questioned.”

“Me either.” Ginny took her cloak off the rack and exited the office behind Marcus. “I might go and see the girls at the hospital.”

“We can go together. Perhaps we can go and see Draco so he can try and get into your knickers again,” Marcus said, though there was a glint of something in his eyes.

“Don't try and play matchmaker, Marcus. It doesn't suit your manly build,” Ginny said, patting his arm.

As they walked around the office and to the lifts, Ginny's eyes landed on Astoria, who was leaning over one of the cubicle walls and pointing at a magazine article. Before the blonde could look up at Ginny, she ducked her head. She knew there could be a day when she could look Astoria in the eyes again without wanting to throttle her, but today was not that day. She hadn't trusted people easily since her first year, but she trusted Astoria because they worked together. If a curse was hurtled at Ginny, she trusted that Astoria would block it, which had happened time and time again. But Astoria had kept this terrible secret from her, one that could very well rip their department apart, and Ginny suddenly had the urge to hex Astoria—hit her, punch her, something.

Marcus must have guessed her line of thinking because he grabbed her arm and steered her onto the elevator. “We can't do worst than what she'll get when the truth comes out.”

“It would make me feel better if we did do something though,” Ginny muttered darkly.

Marcus's response was to press the button to close the doors, effectively shutting her in the lift and away from Astoria. The rest of their trip to St. Mungo's was silent, though every now and again, Ginny would glance at Marcus while they walked, and he would have a thoughtful expression on his face but not brooding. He seemed genuinely perplexed about something, and Ginny had a feeling that it had nothing to do with Astoria's betrayal.

Marcus invited her up to the Tea Room, where he would be meeting Draco, and she accepted his invitation. The girls could wait a few minutes while she tried to solve the puzzle that was Draco Malfoy. She kept thinking back to his touch on her skin and his soft, seductive voice. Whenever she thought back to that night, she wondered how she had let him walk away without a good, thorough snog, if not more.

They stepped into the Tea Room, which had returned to its usual state, and Ginny stood behind Marcus as he greeted Draco with a handshake. He didn't seem to notice she was there until Marcus moved to pull an extra chair up to the table. When he saw her, he froze, and Ginny swore that he got paler. But she told herself that she was simply imagining it and nodded at him in greeting. It was the most she could muster, since the sight of him in a casual shirt and black slacks made her feel a little lightheaded. She could outline his muscles through his shirt, and Ginny had to inwardly yell at herself to stop staring. She suddenly realized this could be a seeing-Marcus-naked situation all over again, and that she desperately needed a good shag, preferably from a well-muscled blond.

“Ginevra,” he said smoothly, motioning his hand towards the chair that Marcus had pulled up.

It was then she realized they were both waiting for her to sit, and she sank down in the chair with a slight blush. “Sorry, and I prefer Ginny.”

“I prefer Ginevra,” Draco replied with a smug expression on his face. “I've done some thinking about it since our dance, and I've decided it suits you better. It's more exotic.”

“Thank you, I guess.” Ginny could see Marcus grinning from the corner of her eye. “There's nothing wrong with plain, though.”

“No, but it doesn't suit you,” Draco replied, sitting down.

“Malfoy—”

“Draco,” he corrected, leaning back in his seat, eyes flashing briefly to Marcus.

Ginny didn't miss the look but continued speaking nonetheless. “I warned you that complimenting a Weasley can ruin your reputation.”

“I'll go get a tea service,” Marcus said. “I'll be right back.”

“I told you, Ginevra, my reputation be damned.” His eyes swept over her form, and she could feel a warm heat creeping up her neck under his leer. “Yes, reputation be damned.”

“You're full of surprises, Malfoy.” Ginny removed her cloak, suddenly feeling hot. “So tell me, what do you do while volunteering here?”

“Nothing important,” Draco said, becoming instantly guarded shut off. “You?”

“Nothing important,” Ginny quipped.

“You were never this feisty back at school,” Draco said, tapping his fingers against the linoleum tile of the table. “Why is that, Ginevra?”

“Finding myself, the usual adolescent drama,” Ginny said offhandedly. “So what changed, Malfoy? Let's be serious here. The last time you saw me, we were on opposite sides, and you were throwing hexes at my brother and Harry.”

“Good old Potter. I thought the two of you would be married and popping out a Quidditch team by now,” Draco said, his head cocked to the side in a way that reminded Ginny of the inquisitive Esmerelda. “But I heard that things didn't end well in that relationship. Was Potter not satisfying those frisky needs of yours?”

“Your obsession with my sex life is almost embarrassing,” Ginny commented. Marcus chose that moment to come back and set down two cups in front of Draco and Ginny as well as a platter of scones

“I just remembered that I had to meet my mother for lunch,” Marcus said, a spark in his eyes as he stared between the redhead and blond. “You two look like you're getting along swimmingly. Enjoy tea, on me.”

“Your mother is in Switzerland, and you hate having lunch with her. That's not even a good excuse,” Ginny said, scoffing. “If you're going to lie, always make it something positive because you never know if it will come to fruition.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow. “Do you have a suggestion?”

“Draco, unfortunately Marcus must go because he has to have lunch and a spot of afternoon delight with the waitress at our lunch spot.” Ginny winked at Marcus, laughing after Marcus smirked at her. “You already did, didn't you?”

“Nothing to write home about, but I'll see if I can't teach her a thing or two,” Marcus replied, his tone telling Ginny that he was serious. “Don't do anything that I won't be doing.”

“So no talking then?” Ginny shouted after his retreating form. She shook her head when he gave her a one-fingered salute and turned her attention back to Draco. “We won't be shagging any time today, unfortunately.”

“Unfortunate indeed,” Draco remarked, fixing his tea.

Ginny helped herself to a scone and tried not to think of the ridiculousness of the situation. Never in her life had she imagined that she would be having tea with Draco Malfoy--or any Malfoy really. But she was currently sitting across from the blond ferret, buttering a scone and stirring sugar in her tea. It almost made her want to get up and walk away, but she couldn't. There was something about Draco that rooted her to the spot, something that made her want to have tea with him—talk to him.

“So, Draco, since you're avoiding my questions about what changed in you, and I will avoid any questions concerning the reason I'm not tossing hot tea in your face and walking away, what have you been doing with your life lately?” Ginny silently added that she didn't want to be asked that question because she didn't have an answer that didn't involve captivating eyes that could suffocate a girl. “Other from showing the altruistic side of your questionable character.”

“Questionable?” Draco raised an eyebrow and sipped his tea in a delicate manner that made Ginny think that he must have been taught by his mother. “My character is refined, not questionable.”

Ginny laughed. “I don't think the proper adjective would be refined.”

“But it's not questionable,” Draco rebuked. “I think it's quite defined, actually.”

“Well, my original description involved the words despicable and evil,” Ginny commented lightly. “I was being polite by choosing questionable. Let's settle on some middle ground and call it indefinable.”

“Even though I think my character is definable,” Draco added. “And don't you think people can change?”

“I know people can change, but you were avoiding the question earlier,” Ginny said, breaking a piece of the scone off and slipping it into her mouth. She saw Draco follow the scone from the plate to her lips and gave him a smug smile. “And yes, I think people can change. I know they can change actually.”

“What's your proof?” asked Draco after a moment of silence.

“Are we discussing philosophies now?” Ginny took a sip of her tea and stared at the chiseled features of Draco's face. She hid a frown behind her cup when she realized that he was quite pale, paler than he was at the gala. Then again, there was always a joke running around the Gryffindor commons that Draco was part vampire.

“Answering questions with questions again,” Draco stated ruefully. “A terrible habit, Ginevra.”

Ginny scoffed. “I'm all about reciprocation in every aspect of my life, Draco. Perhaps if you answer my question, I will answer yours.”

He seemed to ponder the thought, and they sat in silence as the minutes ticked by. She knew she should get up and walk away, but for once, she was unsure and hesitant, a feeling she rarely had. Her actions were precise, and she couldn't help that fact. Her actions needed to be accurate and precise, always thought out and planned. Sitting and talking with Draco was spontaneous and so unlike the normality of her life. That difference made her stay seated, eating her scone and watching Draco turn the thought over in his mind.

“I've been handling my estate,” Draco said as Ginny reached for her second scone. “It's a full-time job, ensuring that everything on the Malfoy properties is running smoothly.”

Ginny laughed. “Really? I would think you put a few house elves in there and let them handle the upkeep.”

“If only,” Draco muttered. “We have a vineyard in Italy, and we're rather prolific in our wine making. I have to visit every month to make sure the numbers add up. But I also need to go to our other properties and make sure no trouble is being caused.”

“Trouble?” asked Ginny, raising her hand to hide the contents of her mouth. “What kind of trouble?”

“Aren't you planning on answering any of my questions? Don't tell me you're really a selfish person?” Draco smirked and sipped his tea when Ginny glared at him. “You did say you believed in reciprocation, and I was looking forward to it.”

“No, Harry wasn't suited to my tastes in shagging partners,” Ginny deadpanned. She motioned for him to continue. “Now as you were saying: trouble.”

He shook his head in a way that reminded her of Marcus. “You truthfully expect me not to comment on that statement?”

Ginny shrugged. “What's there to comment on? Harry likes gentle, and I like not so gentle. Two people having different tastes in bed manners isn't exactly surprising.”

“Figures Potter would be soft,” Draco said, a smug smile playing across his lips. "I can guarantee that I can satisfy any of your needs."

"Including my need for answers?" Ginny asked. "Or is that a need too sophisticated for you to satisfy?"

"I did say I was refined," Draco replied, taking a sip of his tea. "The trouble is usually in the form of Death Eaters or ex-Death Eaters. No one, not even our old comrades, feels favorably towards the Malfoys. Everyone hates us."

"Don't throw yourself a pity party, Draco. I don't hate you," Ginny said with a little laugh. "I may not love you or even like you, but I certainly don't hate you."

He gave her a wry smile and a small bow. "I will take the small reprieve from hatred that you give me."

"But, in all honesty, clearly not everyone hates you," Ginny pointed out. "You still have a friend in Marcus."

"Out of guilt," Draco said, and Ginny saw a brief flash of something, pain, perhaps, on his face before he was back to his smirking look. "And you? What have you been up to, my delectable Ginevra?"

"Delectable? A new adjective to describe me," Ginny said thoughtfully. "I think I like it."

"I think you're avoiding my question," Draco said, crossing his legs.

"Not on purpose," Ginny assured him.

She really hadn't been avoiding the question. Her mind had been distracted by Draco's take on his friendship with Marcus, and she desperately wanted to know why Marcus would feel guilty about something pertaining to Draco Malfoy. Her mind went into overdrive with different scenarios that would cause a guilty debt to be owed to Draco.

When Draco cleared his throat, Ginny snapped out of her thoughts. "Sorry. What have I been doing, you asked? Oh, well I would have thought Marcus would have told you by now."

"I haven't had the time to ask him. I suspect you've been keeping him busy," Draco said casually.

Ginny knew what he was implying by his tone and, for some odd reason, felt the need to correct him. "We're not shagging—Marcus and I. That's not how our friendship works."

Draco shrugged and sipped his tea, though Ginny saw a brief flash of relief on his face. "It would have been none of my business."

"But you were still curious to know," Ginny stated.

He laughed, and Ginny enjoyed seeing the laughter lines appear on his face. She imagined that if his laughter lines could make noise, they would be creaking from disuse. "You're certainly not subtle."

"No, I find it takes too much time," Ginny commented with a grin.

"So? Your life story?" prodded Draco.

"I work with Marcus. That's why we're so . . ." she trailed off and made a hand motion that hopefully signified however her relationship with Marcus appeared, and he nodded. "I'm a Hit Wizard."

"Yes, well, considering you work with Marcus, that seems the logical conclusion," Draco said.

Ginny looked at him expectantly, waiting for a sexist comment, but it never came. Whenever she went on a date and told a man her occupation, there was usually some type of disparaging remark against women in such a violent position. It often led to Ginny reminding them that she was extremely good with her wand, better than they were with theirs, and the date usually went downhill from there. Now Ginny simply resorted to random shags when she needed them and forewent the dating process altogether. It was easier, more convenient and less of a hassle. Not having to be on her best behavior made the sex that much better.

"I can assure you that I'm not about to grow another head," Draco said, breaking through her silent, expectant staring.

"You could if you'd like," Ginny said suggestively.

Draco, who had been mid sip, coughed into his cup in an unrefined manner. "Did you—"

Ginny sighed dramatically. "Here I thought you would be able to keep up with me. Now I think you'll turn out a disappointment like Harry."

Draco leaned forwards, his knees touching hers under the table. "Stick around, Ginevra, and I promise you'll get to see how gratifying I can be."

The smoldering expression he gave her made Ginny's knees feel weak, and she had a fluttery sensation in her stomach. If the old lady behind the counter hadn't been boring a hole through the back of Ginny's head, she was almost certain that she would have pounced on Draco and made him fulfill his promise. Unfortunately, she had to reign in those wild thoughts and inhale a shaky breath, leaning forward until she was mere inches away from his face.

"Don't make promises you can't keep."