February 10th 8:16 PM – DEPARTMENT OF INTERNATIONAL COOPERATION

Ginny Weasley-Potter strode into her large office. It contained two large couches that faced each other so that she could easily conduct informal meetings. As expected, members of her staff were now occupying those couches. They were all frantically writing letters that they intended to owl to foreign diplomats to confirm that a French death eater cell had been eradicated.

As soon as Ginny got a foot in the door of the office, her staff members scrambled to their feet.

"No, sit! Sit! As you were," she assured them. The staff quickly sat back down and turned back to writing their letters.

As the Minister of International Cooperation, she was ultimately responsible for foreign relations between Wizarding England and foreign governments both magical and muggle. She was in a good mood because she was being credited with ridding France of the last vestiges of death eaters within their borders.

She sat behind her desk and took out the bottle of wine she kept in her bottom drawer. It was charmed to stay chilled, and she began pouring herself a glass. It wasn't as if she drank at work all the time—it was just for special occasions. And besides, it was almost 8PM. They had all stayed late to finish up paperwork and to owl all the appropriate diplomats.

Hermione walked purposefully into the room, somewhat taken aback by the chaos. Ginny pulled out a second glass and began to fill it.

"Wine?"

"Please," Hermione answered. "But that's not why I'm here." She wiggled a manila folder right in front of Ginny's nose.

"Are those the…" Ginny began.

"Yes."

"Guys! I need the room." Ginny said in an authoritative voice. The staff scrambled to gather all of their things to get out as quickly as possible.

When the last staff member had hurried out, Ginny spoke.

"What are the highlights?" Ginny asked, somewhat nervously.

"Your approval ratings have increased as result of the French death eater removal by 20 percent."

"I'm at 70 percent approval?" Ginny asked somewhat incredulously. "I was thinking more of a 10 to 15 percent jump."

"Well the public already likes you Ginny. They like to see you succeed."

"Is that it?" Ginny asked impatiently.

"Of course not." Hermione smiled sweetly.

"You know what I really want to know."

"Of course. Question: If Ginny Weasley-Potter were to run for Minister of Magic, would you vote for her?"

Ginny's breath hitched in anticipation.

"55% say yes."

Ginny cracked a small smile. "And?"

"Question: If the candidates in the upcoming Minister of Magic race were Ginny Weasley-Potter and Cornelius Fudge, Jr. who would you vote for?"

"50% say they would vote for you."

"That's better than I was thinking, especially since Fudge has name recognition."

"Ginny. You're married to Harry Potter. You are the definition of name recognition."

"That's true, but his father was a former Minister of Magic. And, we can't underestimate how gender is going to play out in this race. There's never been a female Minister of Magic before."

"And you'll be the first."

They rose their glasses in a toast.

I will be the first, Ginny thought as the glasses clinked.

"So what's our next step?" Hermione asked.

"We call Colin." Ginny made her way to the intra-office Floo. "Colin Creevey!" she shouted as she threw the floo powder into the hearth. In a puff of green smoke, Colin Creevey's disembodied head appeared in the fireplace.

"Colin, I need you to come to my office as soon as possible."

"No problem Ginny." His head disappeared.

Ginny took another sip of her wine and a few seconds later Colin walked into the office.

"Let's sit down on the couches," Ginny suggested and placed herself in the armchair at the head of the shoehorn made by the two couches.

Hermione handed Colin the manila folder with the poll data.

He opened it and looked it over. "Wow. So this is it. You're really running."

Ginny let go of a breath she didn't know she was holding. "I'm really running. I've been waiting for my chance for a long time."

She looked directly at Colin. "What's our next move?"

"I think you should announce in a week so that you can use the momentum that was created by the French Death Eaters."

"One week. We have to assemble a senior campaign team. Obviously I will be doing polling and strategy. You'll be doing the press stuff. But we need someone who can fundraise. This campaign is going to go belly up without money and Ginny shouldn't have to bankrupt herself just to be Minister of Magic," Hermione said.

"It's doable. I have someone in mind for opposition research and that sort of thing. I think she may be able to find someone who's good at fundraising."

"Who is it?" Colin asked, confused.

"Do you remember Pansy Parkinson?"

February 10th at 11:23 PM – THE LEAKY CAULDRON

Ginny slid into the booth, sitting across from Pansy. Pansy's face was all business.

"What is this about?" Pansy asked suspiciously.

"Why can't I just want to catch up with an old friend?"

"Because we're at the Leaky Cauldron. No one over age 17 goes to the Leaky Cauldron, so you're trying not to be seen by anyone we know. Why?"

"It's happening."

"What's happening?"

"I'm running."

Pansy exhaled audibly. "Well congratulations Ms. Future Minister of Magic!"

"I need you to work on opposition research, work your magic from time to time. The grey area stuff."

Pansy chuckled a bit. "I live for the grey area."

"I also need something else from you."

"Name it."

"I need fundraising muscle. I know you're not fully in that world anymore, but I was hoping you could pull someone onto the team that has rich friends and would be willing to help the campaign."

Pansy smiled a small smile. "I think I know someone. Give me 24 hours."

Ginny rose to pull Pansy into a hug. "Thanks Pansy, I really appreciate it. There's definitely a clock on this. I announce in a week."

February 11th 1:03AM – MALFOY MANOR

"Pansy, why in bloody fuck are you standing in my bedroom at one in the morning?"

Draco Malfoy was sitting up in his bed, his bare pale skin almost glowing in the moonlight. Astoria Greengrass, his less than clothed girlfriend, was scrambling to pull the sheets up around her.

As Pansy's eyes swept around the room, she laughed. "I think you'll want to hear about this now. I was contacted by…" Pansy's keen eyes flicked to Astoria. "Your past."

Draco's eyes widened slightly. "My past?" He immediately understood the reference. "Are you fucking with me?"

"Draco, I don't appreciate the fact that another woman is coming into our bedroom in the middle of the night." Astoria declared as imperiously as she could from under the sheets.

"Astoria. Firstly, this is my bedroom not our bedroom. I've told you that a million times. Secondly, shut up. Pansy, I will meet you in the drawing room in 10 minutes."

Exactly ten minutes later, Draco walked through the double doors of the drawing room where Pansy was already sitting at the small table, pouring herself a glass of scotch.

"Why did Ginny contact you?"

"She's running, and I can get you in the inner circle."

Draco's eyes narrowed. "How?"

"The campaign needs a fundraiser. That means they need someone with money who has friends with money. Remind you of anyone?"

Draco smirked and took a strong sip of her glass of scotch. "Tomorrow morning. 10AM. Let's pay Mrs. Potter a visit."

February 11th 10:01AM – DEPARTMENT OF INTERNATIONAL COOOPERATION

Ginny looked up from her desk to see Pansy walk through her door with Draco Malfoy.

"No."

Ginny put her quill down and walked over to the front of her desk, leaning on it slightly, and folded her arms.

"Ginny! I haven't said anything yet."

"No."

"Ginny! Draco is perfect for this job. He has connections and he's richer than Merlin! If he gets just the people he knows to contribute, you'd be swimming in donations for the entire campaign."

Ginny's eyes flicked to Draco who was smirking infuriatingly. "What are you getting out of this?"

"The joy that comes from helping an old friend."

Ginny could feel the heat from anger and annoyance rising in her cheeks. "What are you really getting out of this?"

"It's simple. I need someone I trust as Minister of Magic. I can't have Fudge's righteous arse in office, or else they'll never stop raiding the manor and setting up roadblocks for me when I try to do business. I'm constantly under suspicion for death eater activity and I'm frankly sick of it."

"And you trust me," Ginny deadpanned.

"Given our history, I doubt you would be as zealous as Fudge would. So I'd be doing this for purely selfish reasons. Just the kind you're most comfortable with." As Draco said the last sentence, the tension in the room became palpable.

Ginny ignored his remark and leaned back onto the desk, considering the proposal. She knew that Pansy was right. Harry was wealthy but Draco was a multimillionaire, and was friends exclusively with other fabulously wealthy people. If he suggested that they should contribute to her campaign, she would be financially secure until the end.

But she had a nagging feeling that Draco wasn't telling her the whole truth. Why would he want to help her run for Minister of Magic after the way they parted?

Who cares what his reasons are? She thought to herself. If he wants to give me money, who am I to tell him no?

Draco took the moment of silence to let his eyes cascade down her body. She was well-dressed, wearing a black form-fitting blazer and pencil skirt set. His gaze lingered when he reached the breasts he had once worshipped with his tongue and lips and the legs he had never tired of having wrapped around his back.

Pansy cleared her throat and he tore his eyes away from Ginny. When he looked at the two of them, he was painfully aware that he had been caught staring.

Their reactions were very telling. Pansy was chuckling softly into her hand, her eyes twinkling at him knowingly.

Ginny's reaction was much more interesting to him. He expected her to be angry or uncomfortable. But when he looked into her eyes, he saw an emotion that he hadn't seen from her in a long time, but was completely unmistakable. It was pure lust.

He looked into Ginny's eyes challengingly and smirked.

Pansy cleared her throat again.

"Do you need some water Pansy?" Draco asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

She stifled her laugh. "No thank you Draco." Just then, an owl swooped in the open window and made right for Pansy. She seemed to anticipate the owl because she raised her arm so that it could latch on.

Pansy untied the note and read it quickly. "Do you have any owl treats?"

"Sorry," Ginny replied. "We keep them in the mail room. That's usually where the owls go."

"I'll give you a treat later Libby."

The owl seemed to understand and flew out of the window.

"I have to go," Pansy announced. "Can I trust you two not to kill each other? You two have a lot to talk about."

Without waiting for acknowledgement, Pansy disapparated.

"Just you and me now," Draco said in a low voice. He made his way over to the couch and plopped himself onto the seat. "Come sit next to me so we can talk about this campaign of yours."

Ginny attempted to stamp down the lust that was radiating through her body. Draco had always had the power to turn her on with just a look or some well-placed words. She couldn't allow him to see that he was still able to get to her all these years later.

After all, she had initiated their breakup. She couldn't let him see her falter now. She purposely chose to sit in her regular armchair.

He chuckled as she sat down. "Don't be afraid, I won't bite…but I seem to remember that you liked it when I did."

She shuddered inwardly. She took a deep breath and decided to ignore him once again.

"Let's get down to business. What are you thinking in terms of fundraising?"

"Well, your first donation will total around two million galleons."

"Who's the donor?"

"You're looking at him."

"You're donating two million galleons to my campaign?" she asked incredulously.

"Don't worry Potter I have a nice, rational reason. I want you completely in my debt when you win so that you'll be incentivized to help me out with my auror troubles."

"The debt will be repaid. And it's Minister Weasley to you."

"Don't push your luck, Potter," he drawled. "I'm giving you two million galleons. I will control the financial fate of this campaign. I've had my cock inside of you more times than I can count. I can call you whatever I damn well please."

He knew how much she hated when people called her Mrs. Potter. He'd seen her at a ministry event only a month ago where a foreign diplomat referred her as such. He remembered looking at the pretty flush that crept into her cheeks when she was extremely angry or aroused. He felt determined to provoke that flush in any way he could.

Her eyes narrowed even as she felt a jolt from her core at the mention of their previous sexual relationship.

"What were you thinking in terms of fundraisers?"

"A ball at Malfoy Manor with you and that husband of yours as the guests of honor. An auction would probably bring in a lot. I'd be willing to donate some valuable items that are just sitting in the safe. I'm sure some of my friends would do the same."

"And why would the former-Death Eaters of the world want to contribute to my campaign again?"

"Appearances my dear. Being a death eater is no longer in fashion. Publically donating to the campaign of Harry Potter's wife? It positively screams 'I'm no longer a death eater.'"

Ginny smiled a small smile. "How much can we make from appearances?"

"Forty million." Draco smirked again, but Ginny found that it wasn't as annoying as she thought.