Summary: Her parents dreamed of glamour and glitz. Unfortunately, Ginny is struggling as a waitress and needs to loan money from them. In an effort to repay them with everything they dreamed of, she finds help from the most unexpected person.

Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter or the song Baby Girl. Belongs to J.K. Rowling and Sugarland.

A/N: Hello! Thanksfor giving this a try...This ficis entirelyinspired by Sugarland's Baby Girl. It's not too bad for a country song...

Dear Mom and Dad please send money,
I'm so broke that it ain't funny,
Well I don't need much just enough to get me through,
Please don't worry cause I'm alright,
See I'm playing here at the bar tonight
Well in this town I'm going to make our dreams come true.
Well I love you more than anything in the world,
Love your baby girl

"Yes, we are ready to order. I would like a--"

"Sir, would you like to try today's special of…"

"--filet mignon. It's rare; I ordered well-done. Can I possibly--"

"May I have a refill, please?"

"I'm sorry, but your food will take a while, ma'am. We are having difficulties in the kitchen due to--"

"--this is not what I ordered!"

The voices clashed together with the soft laughter of the patrons of the restaurant, mingled with the faint crashes trickling from the brightly lit kitchens. Lights glowed on the ceiling, hanging above their heads, shadows swarming about the customers and the stressed waitresses and waiters swarming from table to table, a few balancing plates of food cautiously and others darting to the kitchens with their pads. Wafts of mouthwatering aromas slipped through the kitchens, tantalizingly hovering underneath their noses. A few people murmured intimately to another, swirling their wine glasses, while others struggled to contain their screeching children in the far cluster of tables. A few dined alone or others with their group of friends. A loud voice pierced the homey, hectic atmosphere, distracting a few from their steaming plates.

"I expected bone marrow, not this…" The woman ranted, her fat hand gesturing to the attractive plate of enticing, grilled lamb. Her wispy, blonde locks hugged her plump cheeks in a short bob, a thick fringe covering her forehead. A black shawl wrapped around her broad shoulders, and she waved the plate away from her table airily. "May I speak with your manager? I shall be expecting a free meal, or you will have no job after this."

The waitress narrowed her eyes slightly, jerking the plate off the table, the lamb chop threatening to topple onto the woman's lap. She strode away, her dark ponytail swinging as she stormed to the bustling kitchens. She slammed the plate onto the counter, frowning deeply. "What a bloody bitch!" she announced. "That stupid, fat woman at the front area… Someone mixed up her order, and she called me over. She wanted bone marrow, not this shit on a plate." She gestured wildly to the plate of lamb. "She acted like it was damned road kill we picked off the streets." Her fellow waiters and waitresses rolled their eyes, nodding in agreement, a few scoffing. "I feel bad for you, Noel," a girl commented amidst the murmurs.

"Who got her order?" Noel continued, her dark eyes blazing.

They shrugged, a few jumping up to grab their fresh plates of food, hurrying off to their tables, leaving gaps in the group. "I did," a meek voice rang from the remaining. She emerged from behind two waiters, an apologetic smile widening across her face. "Sorry." Thick, dark lashes lowered over her large, honey eyes as she lowered them onto her black pumps. Her thick, scarlet locks cascaded down her shoulders in soft waves, and her freckled face flushed slightly as Noel's eyes rested on her carefully. Her plump lip tugged slightly upward.

"Alright, Gin, give up the doe-eyed Bambi look," Noel barked. "You think it's hilarious." Ginny bared a grin, her eyes twinkling merrily as she lifted her face. "My God, will you please grab her bloody bone marrow and make her choke on it? Or better, spit on it, compliments of you."

"I don't think so," Ginny said frowning. "My tip won't be as good…like it ever is. I'm barely living on what they give us." Murmurs of agreement ran through the waiters. "I have to work at the bar next." Sympathetic looks bounced her way as she smiled bitterly. "Alright, I'm getting her bone marrow."

"Poison it," Noel called as Ginny grabbed the plate off the silver counter, her back disappearing as the darkness swallowed her, her flowing, white skirt fluttering behind her.

Ginny smoothed her rough, green apron as she balanced the plate on her hand easily, hurrying toward the sullen, fat woman's face, looming before her. "Ma'am, I'm sorry about that mix-up. Here's your bone marrow. Enjoy." She turned quickly to hurry into the kitchens, but the woman barked after her. "Girl!" She whirled around, an oddly, serene look across her face as she stared at the woman. "Did I get this meal free?"

"I don't have the authority to give away free meals, ma'am," Ginny said with forced politeness. "You have to talk to someone else." She turned to leave, her heels clinking on the marble floor.

"Gi--" The talk and laughter of the patrons drowned out her voice, and Ginny, nonchalantly, pretended that her ears temporarily became deaf for a quick moment. She entered the kitchen, glancing at a grinning, eager Noel. "So?" she said impatiently, her dark eyes surveying her, her pretty face crumpled in anticipation.

"I didn't do anything. She demanded a refund, but I told her to take it up with someone else because frankly, I really didn't want to do it…and I walked away and pretended I couldn't hear her. Even though, I could hear her perfectly well," Ginny rambled.

"Well…" Noel smiled slightly. "I guess, it would've been bad if she fell dead after eating that bone marrow. I'm going to the bar later with you. Michael assigned me just a minute ago because Callie got food poisoning." She rolled her eyes. "She probably just whined her way out of it…she was complaining about a stomachache earlier."

"I'm going to go home smelling like beer," Ginny mumbled.

"Better than handling rich, snooty bitches," Noel objected.

"Better tips if you're pretty," Ginny said, shrugging slightly, glancing at Noel jealously.

"Or you have loads of cleavage, popping out everywhere…" Noel winked at Ginny, who wrinkled her face.

"I may be desperate for money, but I'm not acting like a slut for extra Sickles," Ginny retorted. Noel laughed as she prodded her out of the kitchens with her long, sharp nails.

She stumbled into her flat, slamming her black, barrel bag onto the counter and her jingling keys. She kicked off her pumps furiously and threw her apron wildly onto the floor. She leaned against her counter, blinking her red eyes furiously. She narrowed her eyes, tears streaming down her face, a salty trail staining her cheeks. Furious curses flew from her mouth as her shoulders hunched, a sob erupting from her throat. She sucked in a shuddering breath as she buried her face in her hands, tears stinging on her skin. Ginny burrowed her face into her arms, her fiery curls falling over her arms, a thick, red curtain around her head.

Her body bathed in alcohol mingled with grease, her muscles aching in fatigue, her emotions overwhelming. She lifted her head, stumbling toward her kitchen table, grabbing the pile of bills accumulating on the wooden surface. Ginny breathed deeply, a sob threatening to slip from her lips. She stooped down to grab her apron, shaking the sticky Knuts and Sickles from the pockets. A few Galleons joined the mix, bouncing across the table. Tears splattered the crinkled envelopes of the bills, the ink smudging slightly as it swam in the salty tears. She lowered herself into a chair, sobbing as her thoughts ran through her head, taunting her.

Unemployed… Fired by the damn, fat snot--she got her free meal, and Ginny lost her job. The job at the restaurant barely made her through, and she struggled to work overtime for extra pay. Her dreams of her own restaurant faded as cold reality settled in. The bills screamed for the money, and her remaining money scarcely covered them. She nuzzled her face into her arms, sobbing freely. The thoughts roamed through her head, the stress building and tears flowing. Exhaustion took over, a last thought lingering in her head before darkness engulfed her. She drifted off into a land of dreams.

Dear Mum and Dad,

I'm sorry for not writing as often as I should. I know you're disappointed in me, but I'm afraid to say that my job as a waitress barely pays my bills. I've tried finding jobs in Muggle London when I first moved into this flat. Newspapers rejected me because of my lack of experience and schooling. Though, I never did write down Hogwarts because I knew they would laugh. My dream was to own a restaurant; the closest I could find was a nice, restaurant in Diagon Alley. Can I please loan some money? Just enough to get me through. I'm so sorry. Please don't worry about me. I'm working as hard as I can at the restaurant. I promise I'll make all your dreams come true…this world has so many opportunities--maybe I haven't taken advantage of them yet. I love you more than anything in the world.

Your baby girl,

Ginny

"Ms. Weasley, owning a restaurant isn't as easy as you think. You need the money and…I'm afraid you don't have enough to even own a tiny building. I don't see any culinary skills, either. I'm sorry, but it just can't be done. Just give up…"

Ginny fiddled with her slender fingers on her lap, her honey eyes falling on the woman in a stony gaze. Her plump lips tugged into a deep frown, her brows furrowed, her nose wrinkled slightly in disapproval. She jumped to her feet, smoothing her snug, periwinkle cardigan and her pencil, pinstripe skirt. She plucked her bag from the desk, sliding it onto her shoulder. A strand of hair fell onto her face as she straightened to stare at the woman distantly. A hand crept up to her fiery head, patting the twist clipped to the back of her head. "I'm sorry for wasting your time, ma'am," she said stiffly, holding out a hand to shake. She quickly strode to the oak door, her black slings clinking against the granite floor. Her delicate hand curled around the brass handle, pausing. She turned around, smiling at the woman. "I don't give up," she said simply. "Frankly, that was the…seventeenth time I heard it." She slammed the door behind her.

She sighed, releasing her hair from its bounds. The waves tumbled down her back as she leaned against the door, breathing deeply, blinking away the creeping tears. She understood one thing; she needed money. Her talents in the culinary area exceeded many, as she learned a few tricks from her own mother and her best friend, Colin Creevey, a successful chef. No company was willing to support her and loan her money. She sighed, running a hand through her hair, unraveling the tangles.

As she prodded down the streets of Diagon Alley, her tongue slipping from between her pink lips to lick her chocolate ice cream, anxiety furrowed between her brows. She refused to cry, blinking profusely. She stared down at her shoes to hide her watering eyes, rocks crunching underneath her heels. As a pair of dirtied trainers loomed into sight, her legs refused to halt, her body stumbling forward, her ice cream crunching as her arm catapulted forward into a hard body.

She lifted her eyes, gasping as she examined the damage. Her chocolate ice cream smeared across the charcoal sweater on her man, his gray eyes sparkling slightly as they glanced at her. A hand flew to her mouth. "I'm sorry!" she gasped, laughter hidden in her voice. She bitterly cursed him as her stomach grumbled for more of the icy treat. "I'm…" She whipped out her wand, muttering a simple Cleaning Charm. The stain disappeared immediately.

"You think it was funny," he said laughter glittering in his eyes. His silver hair fell lightly on his forehead, and his aristocratic features brightened as a smile threatened to break through the large smirk on his thin mouth. His handsome face peered down at her, examining her carefully.

"No," Ginny lied, choking slightly, her cheeks burning.

"You did!" he insisted.

"You ruined my ice cream!" Ginny argued playfully, fighting back her laughter. Her shoulders shook, betraying her. "You owe me another cone!"

"No, you were looking down at your feet like an idiot," he said, "not that I think you're one," he added smoothly. Ginny smirked.

"You're flirting with me," she said.

"Maybe…" the wizard said coyly. "I'll get you another cone…how about that?"

"Okay," Ginny said her spirits lifting. She walked beside the handsome wizard, her heart beating wildly in her chest.

"So, what's your name?" he asked.

"What's yours?" Ginny countered. They stopped. "At the same time," she said. He nodded, smirking. "One…two…three!"

"Ginny Weasley."

"Draco Malfoy."

She stared, horrified, her eyes widening as she stared at Draco Malfoy's calm face, smiling as before, unaffected. "Oh…my…god."