I'm kind of excited about this one! It's my first Draco/Ginny story. Please treat me gently! As with all great ideas, this one began under a shower head. I was listening to Taylor Swift's We Are Never Getting Back Together on Pandora when it came to me. Please let me know what you think of it! :)
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and its characters belong to J. K. Rowling. I only own this idea.
Chapter 1: Reckless Abandon
Twenty-two, famous, and dreadfully inexperienced.
When push came to shove, this was the only way Ginny could describe herself. She tapped her quill on the parchment impatiently as she thought. Nothing of importance sprang to her mind. Ten minutes later, her mind was as blank as ever. She dropped the quill in irritation and groaned.
Ginny Weasley, in almost all aspects, had done quite well for herself post-war. Her passion for Quidditch landed her a highly coveted Chaser position on the Holyhead Harpies. She was the youngest player on the team, recruited when she was only 19. In her second year on the team, they took the World Cup by storm. Her beauty and skills on the Quidditch field earned her a celebrity status almost immediately after. Despite the fame and wealth which came with her career, Ginny Weasley found herself utterly miserable. Money and fame truly didn't bring happiness.
Her love life was in shambles. By now, she thought she would be married and blissfully happy. Unfortunately, she was still single and unimaginably lonely. After the war, she and Harry had slowly drifted apart. Professional Quidditch was the start of the relationship's downfall. As her skill made her famous, Harry drew away. He understandably shied away from the additional fame, but never failed to push Ginny in her career. He was loving and supportive even though every push for Ginny increased his misery. She wanted to quit the team and put her Quidditch career behind her in favor of marrying Harry and starting a family. He flat out refused to allow it. When Harry was not on Auror duty, Ginny was playing around the world. When she had time off, Harry was off on a mission. With all of the time the couple spent apart, falling out of love was bound to happen. Ginny didn't cry when she dropped a small box of Harry's things at the Grimmauld Place. She didn't cry when The Daily Prophet reported sightings of Harry with unknown witches. She cried solely due to loneliness five months after the breakup.
Now, well over year later, Ginny still found herself utterly alone. She had not done anything outside of Quidditch in years. There wasn't much time for dating when you were a professional athlete, especially when you played for one of the top teams in the league. So now, Ginny stared at a nearly blank application for a matchmaking service. She knew it was crazy and her family would kill her if word got out, but she wanted something different, some excitement in her life. She couldn't stand the loneliness anymore.
The application asked for her general information such as her name, birthday, job, and annual income. It also contained the dreaded About Me section that currently stumped her. She was a twenty-two year old, virgin, professional Quidditch player. She had very few true friends and hardly ever got sloshed. Merely thinking about describing herself in her own words made her feel ill. Who would want someone as bland and boring as herself?
She stood, exasperated, and poured herself a glass of wine from a freshly opened bottle. A few sips of the strong, red wine took the heavy burden from her shoulders. She didn't drink often, because it wasn't good for her or her game. She had the following weekend off and thought this glass was well deserved.
Ginny giggled, pouring the last drop of the Merlot into her glass. Her eyesight was fuzzy and her brain failed to control the rest of her body on multiple occasions, all of which she found utterly delightful. She spied the quill, ink, and unfinished application abandoned at the far end of her table. Wobbling as she stood, she went to the parchment and plopped down in front of it. Several drops of her wine splattered fell onto the floor.
"I'll just paint myself a pretty picture!" She switched the glass to her left hand and picked up the quill with her right.
She began to write a lengthy, colorful autobiography. She wrote with reckless abandon. If she told lies, she didn't know or care. Her quill moved so quickly that it nearly set fire to the parchment. When finished, she held the parchment in front of her, but couldn't very well read her own words on account of the drunken stupor. Instead of leaving the parchment on the table to be laughed at and thrown away in the morning, Ginny folded it up and shoved it in an envelope as she finished the very last drop of wine. Abandoning her empty glass, she called her tawny owl and tied the envelope to his leg.
"To the Caspian Matchmakers with you," She said with a grand gesture, throwing the window upon.
She stumbled into bed in a fit of giggles, the letter forgotten.
Ginny awoke to a heavily fogged and muddled mind. She sat up and instantly succumbed to a skull splitting headache. She kneaded her temples as the fog slowly began to dissipate. Her head ached so badly that she was unable to stand without losing her balance. Memories trickled back into her conscious thought. Emptying the bottle of wine in a fit of giggles and – the application. Ginny forced herself up and out of the room. Ignoring the physical consequences of the previous night's drunkenness for a few moments, she made her way into the dining room. The quill and ink were both still lying on the table. The application, unfortunately, was long gone. She clenched her stomach and ran to the bathroom.
She wrenched her guts up for hours, weeping in between bouts of sickness. She wondered what was on the application and what the matchmakers would think when they read it. She pictured the Caspian sisters laughing hysterically, passing the application around the office. Her pride was severely wounded. She wept harder. By nightfall, the wine's karma dissipated and she peeled her arms from around the toilet. Upon entering her dining room, she saw a sky blue letter staring at her on the table.
She fingered the letter, turning it over slowly. The perfect, gold ink said that the letter was from Caspian Matchmaking. Ginny nearly hurled again. She felt utterly stupid and helpless. Surely the famed matchmaking sisters would take pity on her. May be this was a kindhearted rejection. Unable to resist temptation a second longer, she tore at the envelope and removed the letter.
Ms. Weasley,
We would like to thank you for your interest in our matchmaking services. As Holyhead Harpy fans ourselves, we would be overjoyed to have a player of your caliber as our client. Due to your celebrity status, we would like to extend a special offer to you in person. Your privacy will be our utmost priority. Complete and utter secrecy will be guaranteed. We will clear our schedule whenever you wish to make an appointment. Your reply will be eagerly awaited.
Sincerely,
Thelma and Persephone Caspian
Ginny read the letter three times before she allowed herself to believe it. It was handwritten by the sisters as opposed to scribbled with a charmed quill. She could tell by the distinctively female, fluid cursive. A letter written by a charmed quill was straight, consistent, and unisex. The sisters even offered to clear their schedule just for her. It was clear that they would do anything to have her as a client. Success with a celebrity client would bring a great deal of business to them. She wondered if, perhaps, the drunkenly written application wasn't so bad. Ginny ran a hand through her long red hair. She wondered if they would understand that she was a little sloshed when she wrote the application. Then again, they probably didn't care if she wrote that her last boyfriend was a hippogriff.
She wrote back hesitantly and asked for a meeting the following day at 1:00 pm. She laughed at herself and shook her head as she scribbled. It was so unlike her to do something like this. Perhaps getting out of her confining comfort zone would loosen her up. Ginny was tired of being a stick in the mud. She highly doubted that any long-term results would come from a matchmaking service. Things like that just didn't happen in real life. Right?
Ginny had been standing in the fireplace for 10 minutes now. She well on her way to being late for her meeting with the matchmakers. Her hand was full of floo powder, but it wasn't cooperating. She tried yelling at it which, of course, failed miserably. A mix of embarrassment, nerves, and excitement made her feel as if she ate a bowl of butterflies for lunch. And to top it off, her limbs were apparently on strike. Ginny took in a deep breath, giving herself an internal pep talk, and finally threw the powder.
"Caspian Matchmakers!"
She disappeared into green flames and reappeared in a daintily decorated, black and white waiting room. Ginny stepped out of the fireplace, ducking to avoid the ledge. The room appeared to have never been used, which she found odd due to the amount of people talking about it. She walked carefully, as if she were in a fine china shop, to the receptionist's desk. The desk was empty, so she rang the bell.
She sat in the black, pinstriped chair slowly, as if regularly sitting down would bring chaos. Her back was straight as an arrow and her hands lay in her lap because she didn't know what else to do with them. She contemplated leaving and never coming back, when hushed whispers turned her attention to the door. The whispers were incoherent and lasted only a minute or two before two women walked into the room.
Bright, genuine smiles graced their lovely faces. One sister was noticeably taller than the other with long, mousey brown hair lightly curled at the ends and an angular face. She was dressed in dark turquoise robes. She shared the same angular face with her sister, but her hair was short and jet black. Her bangs were pinned out of her face, giving her a more youthful appearance. Her robes were a rich amethyst. They giggled and exchanged an excited expression before turning back to Ginny.
"Ms. Weasley?" The brown haired woman asked even though she obviously recognized the famed Chaser.
Ginny stood, a bit shaky, and strolled up to the pair. She shook hands with the pair, who smiled warmly in return.
"Please, call me Ginny," She insisted.
"I'm Thelma," The shorter sister's voice was a bit squeaky, "And this Is Persephone."
"We are so very pleased to meet you. Come in, come in." Persephone ushered her in, "Would you care for a spot of tea?"
Ginny nodded. She would have taken anything to drown the butterflies. They still fluttered in her belly even though the Caspian sisters were warmer and kinder than she expected. They ushered her into a light pink meeting room. Ginny sat across from the sisters at a gorgeous, hand carved mahogany table. Ginny estimated that it must have cost them a small fortune. Thelma snapped and a stiff house elf appeared, wrapped in a light blue, satin pillowcase.
"Yes, madam," The elf spoke slowly with the tone of an elderly woman, even though she was far from geriatric herself.
"Tea for the party, please!" Persephone piped up.
With a curt nod, the house elf vanished. Two pairs of dark blue eyes now fell on Ginny. Her stomach churned. If there were ever a moment to laugh at the absurdity of her application, it would be now.
Feel free to tell me what you think and what you would like to see happen. I always PM with a reply! Please review! The more reviews I get, the more likely I will be to continue! Love y'all!