The bank was busier than usual, and Ginny Weasley was in a hurry, which did not make a pleasant combination on this particular Friday afternoon. A group of wise cracking kids out shopping for their upcoming year at Hogwarts had thought it would be funny to release all the Aviatomobiles from their boxes in the store, which had effectively shut the store down for three hours while she and George ran frantically around the store freezing every single one in place and repackaging them in their boxes. Not only had the incident cost them precious hours of sales on one of their busiest days of the month, but it had put her behind on her inventorying, which was a guaranteed way to put her out of sorts. Now, to top it all off, she had to stand in line at Gringotts, which had her red headed temper boiling though her hair had since lost its natural color.
When someone was rude enough to bump into her back as they passed, accidental or not, it pushed her over the edge. She spun around, her cloak twirling with her movement, to spit at the offender, "Honestly! Did your mother raise you in the Forbidden Forest?"
She wished she had taken the time to think before she spoke, or to at least get a decent look at the said offender who turned out to be a very handsome gentleman indeed. Her mouth clamped shut immediately as she tried to think of the best way to apologize for her rudeness, but as she stood awkwardly and racked her brain, her brain turned to another avenue as it tried to make the connection of where she knew the man from.
His brain seemed on a similar mission and he cocked his head slightly to the side and rubbed his chin in thought. Sudden recognition flickered in his eyes and he sputtered out her name, "Weasley?!" If she didn't know any better she would have thought the word carried malice behind it.
"Yes, and you ar-" her stomach sank and it felt as if someone had punched her in the gut. "Malfoy." A nervous, soft laughter escaped her next as they continued to stand there in the middle of the crowded bank, the minutes to closing ticking by quickly. "My gods, I believe my legs have become immobilized by equal parts embarrassment and fear." She had a tendency to overshare when uncomfortable.
He continued to stare at her in bewilderment. "It is Ginny Weasley, right?"
For a moment she seriously considered feigning ignorance and making up a new identity on the spot, but the shock of encountering Draco Malfoy of all people blanked her mind to a clean slate of stupidity and nothingness. "Right," she breathed with another nervous laugh. Her hands flailed nervously at her sides, and she resolved to folding them across her chest to keep from reaching out and hitting a passerby or from, worse, reaching forward to see if he still had those muscular arms from Quidditch form. "Small world," she managed. "How the hell have you been?" She didn't care, honestly, but common etiquette made her inquire. After all, it wasn't as if she could make this situation more uncomfortable.
"I've stayed busy considering the world doesn't find itself under constant attack from You Know Who."
"Right, right. Well, I better go make this deposit before I open my mouth again and say something so embarrassing I will be forced to hex myself." Her mind wandered where it shouldn't, thinking that scruff suited him just fine. He certainly looked more mature than the last time she had seen him. Could it really have been five years ago already?
A smile – a true, honest smile – crossed his face and it surprised her. In the six years she had known him at Hogwarts, she couldn't remember seeing a smile once. Now he wore it as a common accessory to his daily presence.
"It was... interesting seeing you again."
"Indeed, it was," he replied with his own version of good bye. It was only after he has bid his ado and headed to the opposite row of tellers did it register that he hadn't made a single snide remark. Though it had been a brief encounter, how easy it could have been to comment that he didn't know Weasleys had enough money to even know what a bank was. She had half the mind to pinch herself, but she knew she wasn't dreaming though she did feel a bit under a cloud of haze. Draco. Malfoy.
It was a moment before she realized she had called the last word out aloud. Squeezing her eyes shut with a deep sigh, she turned around to face him once more as he turned back at the sound of his last name. "Do you want to grab drinks tonight?" the words tumbled from her mouth before she could snatch them up and shove them back in. She had not meant to call out his name, and she certainly hadn't meant to ask him out, but there it was. Racking her brain for a spell that could dissolve her into a puddle on the floor, she came up blank.
His response was equally surprising, "Wonder Boy wouldn't mind?"
His retort puzzled her until she realized he meant Harry Potter. With a snort of surprise, she tousled her dyed brunette hair as she gave her head a hasty shake. "Harry and I broke up ages ago. Wow, two years ago now, in fact. I cannot believe it has actually been that long." She caught the tangent early and forced herself back on track before the conversation completely derailed. "I have to say, I'm rather surprised you didn't read that in the tabloids. Rita Skeeter was far from the only journalist," she emphasized the word sarcastically, "to run the story... over and over... for about six months."
"Well, I try not to waste what free time I have reading trashy journalism, and surprisingly enough I haven't committed my life to keeping tabs on Golden Boy's affairs. I was hoping an acceptance of your invitation might irk him – you know, for old time's sake – but alas."
"Acceptance?" She had anticipated many a response from him, but an agreement was not one of them.
The slight smile he gave her then was more like the ones she remembered from school; part devilish, part sly, and all mischievous. It sent tingles through her. When he named a time and place, she simply nodded in silent surprise. As he turned in a swish of cloak and disappeared into the crowd of wizards, witches, and goblins, she couldn't help but watch his retreating form.
"Oh, Ginny," she whispered to herself under her breath. She uncrossed her arms and reached down to grasp the bag of coins in the pouch inside of her cloak, only partial surprised that he hadn't nicked it. "You are in over your head, dearie." She slapped her right cheek once to snap herself out of the mood. With activities planned for the evening now, she hardly had time to stand around inside the bank and wonder aimlessly.