Please tell me to stop writing new stories. Haha. It gets me so out of focus on other stories.
But I can't stop!
Anyway, this story characters and ideas belong to JK Rowling, just written by Youngwriter 56.
And it's about Ginny and Draco fleeing off to America to start a new life and they meet each other and fall in love, and then etc.
Tell me if it should be rated 'M' for the language.
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A fly buzzed above her flaming red head.
She didn't move a single muscle in her body.
It'll go away.
Like all living things did from her.
They all went away.
And now, the fly didn't deceive her.
It went away.
Why did the fly go away?
Was it scared of her? Was it bored of her? Was it tired of her? Was it confused about her? Was it sick of her? Did it see someone better to bother?
Like that fly, other redheads have come flying in, running in, jumping in, slouching in, and walking into her daily schedule of life that summer.
And then, they all went away.
Were they scared of her? Were they bored of her? Were they tired of her? Were they confused about her? Were they sick of her? Did they see someone better to bother?
That was a hard question.
Let's ask her imaginary friend.
Hello, Bob. Why did they leave her?
Why? Oh, I see.
They were superior to her.
Too cool for her.
Too smart for her.
Just simply too good for her.
Ginevra Weasley.
The last and the least of the Weasleys.
It started with Charlie. He could have been a star Quidditch player, but he went off to chase dragons.
And then, Bill. He became some big gangster Gringotts worker with hair longer than his own sister.
And then, Percy. Top student at Hogwarts and prized Junior to the minister of magic.
And then, there was Fred and George. They were her savior. Not only because of their endless humor and good spirits, but because they could have at least made Ginny look a little bit better in that family.
But no. They went off and betrayed her. They now owned over hundreds of chains of their own magic shop and made more money than Charlie or Bill.
So, she was left with Ron. She had thought he could have helped build her resume, but he only ruined it further. He had to go make friends with Harry Potter and just had to become the new Head Auror. His own resume? Simple- 'I helped kill Voldemort.'
So there was the little small, frail, pale girl who caused a near death experience for the boy-who-lived in his second year, and was even catching up to Fred and George on the amount of detentions she earned from Professor Snape and Filch.
So Ginny graduated, and was now desperately trying to get a job somewhere.
The summer heat was scorching every piece of hair on her head.
She had just been fired from Three Broomsticks.
Ginevra sighed deeply. The possible job list was out the window.
There was only one last choice on her lengthy list of To-do's.
Go away.
Go away just like every organism in the planet has done to her.
Leave.
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He remembered the day he broke his own record for the shortest exercise time ever.
No, he was not tired.
No, he was not forgetting something.
No, he did not give up on exercise.
No, he was not busy.
No, he did not have a certain craving.
No, he did not have a sudden pain.
Draco Malfoy had taken one step out of his grand mansion when a mob of thepress bombarded him with numerous flashes of the camera and furious scribbles in their little one inch notebooks on what he was wearing and how he looked. Surprised, of course.
And then, there were the questions.
By golly did he like questions.
"Where is your father now?"
"Were you pressured to become a death eater?"
"Are you unhappy or relieved of your father's imprisonment?"
"Was it true that you were beaten as a child?"
"Did you ever meet He-who-must-not-be-named?"
"Can I kiss your hat?"
Kiss my ass. I don't give a damn.
And then, he had spun around and ran back inside his house.
No exercise that day.
He sat on the sofa.
He tapped his toe on the sole of his shoes.
Then, the tapped his entire foot.
Then, his leg.
And then, he was almost spazzing on the couch.
Malfoys don't function well when they aren't moving.
A fly buzzed above his head.
It would probably not go away for a long time.
Like everything he knew- they stuck to him until the superglue wore off.
And then, they tried to make contact. And then, they FINALLY left him when he went over to their face and screamed at them to fuck off.
Just like the reporters.
Draco Malfoy stood up.
The fly stood up.
He walked over to the kitchen.
The fly walked over to the kitchen.
He turned his head sharply at the fly.
The fly turned back, pretending that it never even saw him.
The typical living creature.
IN the beginning of his summer, when he was not as popular as he would have liked, he actually took walks down the street.
A couple or a group of friends would turn their heads occasionally.
And then, pretend that he was never alive. And then, when he turned back around, they stalked him.
Just like that fly.
Draco picked up the newspaper.
There was a familiar face.
Cold blue-gray eyes, platinum blond hair, sweats zipped up halfway, earphones in his ear…
That looked a lot like him! Hey! He was famous!
SMACK
Dead fly.
Three was his lucky number.
And this was the third strike.
Now, he knew what Potter had felt, being stalked around by the dumbass newspaper idiots.
He was leaving. He was getting out of the place.
Up, up, and away.
He would fly across the world.
Just like that stupid fly.
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Only a year has passed since that day. Draco was now at the dreamland, America, blending in with the typical American, with a slight british accent of course.
He had wondered how he would make a living in the new country.
He certainly had the good Malfoy blood in him.
He was strong.
He was brave.
He was bold.
He had marched into a Toy company building one day and had demanded that he had a spot in that office.
Hey, there was a 'Now Hiring' poster in the window.
He got the job on the spot. Right then and right there.
Luckily for him, the boss had been in that center when he had barged in for the job.
That boss liked that kind of man.
Determined, bold, strong, brave…
In fact, he was LOOKING for someone just like Draco.
And it was only one year later when he became that same boss as the old man who had hired him.
People marveled at him.
He was a newcomer still to them, and he was their boss.
There were protests.
Then, there was acceptance.
Then, there was the women employees getting fired for harassment of the boss.
Then, the males quitting from envy.
But that old man, who used to be the boss, stayed fierce with his decision.
He raised Draco like his own son. When he heard Draco had come to America with just a hundred bucks in his pockets and no relatives, he had taken Draco into his own home until he had enough to settle down on his own with.
What could Draco say? The old man liked him.
And now, Draco walked in, boss of the toy sales department. Working above hundreds of employees who walked in and out of that building.
Now, there was a 'Now Hiring' poster stuck on the building window.
Draco could have gone the same path as his old boss and have waited years for the perfect person to walk in with that same charisma.
But, he did things his own way.
The… normal way.
Applications. Interviews. Job trainings.
So now, Draco Malfoy, head of the Toys 'n Us Sales department, the largest department in the business, leaned back on the rolling chair in his office, looking over the faces of all the applicants who had passed the interviews that his most trusted advisor had set up.
Bob Parsley. Nah…
Blonde with blue eyes. Acceptable resume, but her nose was totally fake.
And then, there was the girl with a star on the corner. That meant outstanding resume. He looked at her picture.
That was definitely a no.
And so on, and so forth.
He knew this was a bad thing to do- choose his next employee by the looks of them, but he was his own boss now, and all these people were at least satisfactory. As a result though, there had been rarely any male employees who had been hired since Draco had become the boss.
Another blonde with too many freckles.
A red-head with a huge zit.
A green-eyed beauty with the ugliest hair.
A brown haired woman with the worst taste of clothing.
And then, he took a double take.
She was not the prettiest he's seen.
But she was not bad either.
Her red hair proved to be passionate and fiery. Her blue eyes drew Draco in. They were a breath-taking shade of hazel, and in the picture, they were calm, smooth, and laid back. Her choice of clothes was unusual. There was no black suit, or prim collar shirt like he had seen all day. The girl who stood in that photo had jean capri pants and a black velvet jacket.
The name…
Ginevra Weasley.
Draco Malfoy smirked.
He threw the papers on his desk loudly and dialed a number on his phone.
"Brad? Call the lady named Ginevra Weasley and tell her she's hired."
"Yes, sir."
"And Brad?"
"Yes?"
"Tell her I'll like a word with her. At dinner."
"Yes sir."
"And Brad?"
"Yes?"
"Don't tell her my name."
"Yes sir."
"And Brad?"
"Y…yes?"
"Stay on the phone. She might get too carried away."
"Of course, sir."
"Because that's a very… Weasley thing to do."
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"Excuse me?"
"The head of the sales department in Toys 'n Us would like to welcome you to be part of the staff."
"Are you serious?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"But… I have like nothing on my resume!"
"Well, you passed the written test, verbal test, interviews, and boss inspections."
"Ginny did what?"
"Basically, ma'am, the boss has chosen you out of the final 10 nominations."
"There were actually ten other people?"
"More than that, I think."
Silence.
"Ma'am?"
Silence.
"Er… ma'am?"
And then, a blood curling scream.
"Oh my fucking god! I got hired! I'm hired! I got the fucking job! AHHHHHH!"
"Well, your job training will begin next Monday, but the boss would like to meet with you first."
"Why?"
"That's not for me to answer, ma'am."
"Oh… when's that?"
"He asked for you tonight."
"Tonight? Celebration night? What is he, a party pooper?"
"Ma'am, he sells toys."
"Right."
"Well, I guess he wants to celebrate with you because he asked you to meet him in the Le Boulanger restaurant down the street at seven PM."
"Like a DATE?"
"Well…"
"Now, he's some perverted, rich, party pooping toy seller?"
"No…"
"Okay, okay. Tell him I'll be there."
"Okay, ma'am. Congratulations."
"Yes, and your name…"
"Brad."
"Okay, well, be sure to tell him I accept the job offer. Very graciously too."
"Yes, ma'am."
"And Brad?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you."
"Anytime, ma'am."
"And Brad?"
"Yes?"
"Is the boss really perverted?"
"No, ma'am. I doubt it. Well, I am a male…"
"Right… so he's straight."
"Yes ma'am."
"And Brad?"
"Yes?"
"Don't tell him I called him a complete farthead."
"Yes, ma'am."
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"She accepts, the offer sir," Brad said as he shut the door to Draco's office silently.
"Well, of course. Who wouldn't? What did she call me?"
"Well… she… sort of asked me not to tell you."
"A rich, party pooping toy seller?"
"Ah… yes."
"Typical."
"Yes…"
"Well…"
"Yes, sir?"
"Aren't you going to drive me to the restaurant?"
"Yes, sir."
Brad turned around and got ready to pull out the car. He shook his head.
It had been an odd day today.
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A/N: End of chapter.
Do you guys understand it, or is it confusing?
Please review!