Harry had never been one to believe in love at first sight. He had girlfriends before, but the relationships had built up slowly and ended disastrously.
But as Harry sat in his office on September 2nd, he was sure he had fallen in love at first sight. He was so nervous and jumpy that he slopped his glass of water down the front of his robes, and missed his mouth with his fork, resulting in risotto splattering his lap. Once Harry had cleaned off his robes, he sat in his chair, pretending to fill out paperwork. Truthfully, he wasn't. Gigi's office was across the way, separated only by the desk of the receptionist. Harry was merely dipping a quill in ink, and then scribbling gibberish on a piece of parchment, watching Gigi from the corner of his eye.
Gigi herself was working harder than she ever had before. She was so infuriated at being demoted that she was determined to be the best there ever could be. She would show Kinglsey that he needed her, that she truly was the best publicist, nay, employee at the Ministry. By twelve 'o clock, she had arranged an interview for Harry with the Daily Prophet, which would be done the next day and the editor had guaranteed her a front-page spot. She had also arranged a trip to Hogwarts for this Friday, where Harry would give a press conference about protecting and education the youth, and so on.
Gigi was still working by six 'o clock, after most of the office had emptied out. She was still dictating a long letter to Rita Skeeter when someone knocked on her door.
"Gigi?" The receptionist, Effy, was standing in the doorway, her pale and frail arm held out as if she was still in the process of knocking. Gigi raised her right eyebrow, and Effy lowered her hand.
"Hi Effy." Gigi finished the letter with a flourish, signing her name in large script at the bottom of the parchment. "What can I do for you?" She tapped the parchment with her wand, and it rolled into a neat scroll, and then zoomed out the door, nearly hitting Effy in the ear.
"A few of us were going out for drinks," Effy said. "Would you care to join us?"
"Oh…" Gigi paused. After the day she had, she would prefer not to, but rather, go home and sit in a bathtub with a very, very, large glass of merlot. "I'm terribly sorry, but I can't." She gestured to her office, which was in a state of disarray. "I have some work to get done here."
Effy nodded, and offered a small smile, and then turned around to go, walking quickly away from Gigi's office.
"Thank you, though," Gigi called after Effy, but she didn't appear to her Gigi's cry.
Gigi sighed, pushed her bangs off her forehead, and continued to work. She dipped her eagle-quill in the inkpot on the edge of her desk and began to scribble in her leather-bound planner, careful not to smudge the ink. Once she was done, she blew on the ink and then shut the planner, carefully placing it in the top drawer of her desk. She then scribbled the same appointments in a smaller planner, and then shut that one too. She stood up, planner in hand, and walked out of her office and across the hall, to Harry's office.
All this time, Harry had been finishing up his paperwork for the day, hoping to finish before Gigi left, so he could walk with her to the Floo fireplaces. However, he was so immersed in his work that he was startled by her sudden appearance at the doorway to his office.
"Harry?" She said, and he jumped, stabbing through the parchment with his quill. "I put together a planner for you. I'll put all your appointments and appearances in here, so you always know what's happening."
"Thank you," Harry said, hastening to stand up and take it from her. When he reached out for the book, his fingertips brushed hers, and he felt his heart jump. However, Gigi didn't seem to notice, and her face remained composed and cool. She nodded and turned to leave, but Harry made a noise in his throat, and she turned to him, looking slightly alarmed. "I…I heard people are going to a pub tonight. Are you…are you thinking of going?"
Gigi smoothed her skirt. "No," she said simply. "I have work to do, in case you didn't know."
"Well I would hope so," Harry said, taken aback by her abrupt reply. "Make sure everything's going smoothly."
"If everyone would just leave me alone, I could do everything perfectly," Gigi said so quietly, Harry had to strain to hear her. "I could even wipe the spittle from the corners of your mouth."
"Sorry?" Harry asked, his temper flaring at her disdainful words. "Do you have a problem with this job? Because I could easily ask you to find another position. I'm sure the American Embassy has many jobs open for Publicists."
Gigi narrowed her brown eyes at him. Harry felt his stomach squirm slightly. He didn't want to fire anyone on his first day. However, the girl Harry had felt so warm towards, even been entranced by, suddenly made him angry. Yet, he couldn't be completely angry, because she was still so commandingly beautiful.
"I don't have a problem with this job." She replied, barely opening her lips, but Harry could see that her teeth were gritted. "No, I have a problem with you. You don't seem to know how valuable an employee I am. In fact, there is a reason I'm not working at the Embassy. I came here because I am the best, and I intend to stay the best." Gigi walked back into the room and slammed her palms down on the front of her desk. Harry recoiled the slightest bit. But he noticed that she smelled of lilac and sandalwood and if he craned his neck just the slightest bit, he could see down her shirt… "I was supposed to be working for the Minister, not someone exactly my age, who has yet to accomplish something in the workplace." She stopped to breathe in, and it was obviously that she was full of rage and furious energy. "And you should know that you couldn't fire me, I would like to see you try. Because I am here to stay, pal. There's a reason I am so loved here and so valuable. And not even Harry Potter can take that away from me,"
"I can see that you're valuable," Harry replied hotly, rising from his seat, and planting a first on the mahogany surface of his desk. "Obviously, you are so powerful and important. Yes, that must be why they demoted you here. To work for someone your age who hasn't accomplished anything in the workplace. You're obviously extremely valuable." Gigi drew back, her jaw quivering in anger. "And here's something, pal," Harry spit. "You may be a good employee, but don't forget, I'm Harry Potter, something that may not make me confident or happy, but something that certainly gives me power. More than you have, anyway. Which, by definition, would mean that I could fire you, if I pleased." At once, Harry realized that he had gone too far. Gigi turned away from him, her dark hair spinning outwards, and stalked away from his office. She entered her own office and slammed the door so hard that the doorknob jiggled in the socket, and then fell out onto the floor.
Still too riled up to apologize, Harry grabbed his things and left his office, careful to avoid looking in the windows of Gigi's office, and took the lift down to the floo fireplaces. Harry rolled up his sleeves, threw the powder into the flames, and left the Ministry, leaving Gigi alone.
Gigi, on the other hand, flew into a rage. For the first time in the day, she lost all of her composure. Gigi screeched in a high-pitch, and then stomped her foot so hard that the heel of her Manolo Blahink broke off and rolled across the carpet. With another shriek, Gigi shoved the heel into her purse, grabbed her wand, and waved it, tidying up her office on command. She began to run to the lifts, quivering with rage.
How dare he? She squealed in anger and kicked at the lift doors as they opened to greet her. Harry Potter. What rubbish. She hated him! What an ass. He didn't realize how incredible she was, so he had obviously taken a stunning spell to many to the brain. Well, she would show him just how powerful she could be. Gigi reached the floo powder fireplace, took a handful of dust, threw it in the flames, and stepped inside, calling out her home address, her voice magnified with anger.
Meanwhile, Harry had just arrived at The Sphinx, the wizard's pub down the street from the Ministry. He ducked out of the fireplace and ducked around a group of warlocks, searching over the heads of the crowds for his own co-workers.
Finally, he spotted the receptionist, Effy, at the bar, grabbing up a glass of wine and a pint of beer.
"Oi, Effy!" He called, and Effy glanced up at him, a smile plastered on her face.
"Hey, boss," she shouted back over the noise. She held up a beer and gestured to the opposite of the room. "We're sitting at a table in the corner. Find us."
Harry nodded, and went up to the bar.
"Can I have a glass of Maplewood mead?" He asked the bartender, who nodded and pulled out a pint. Harry slapped a galleon down on the counter, and then accepted the glass. He twisted his way through the crowd and towards the corner of the room, where, sure enough, his co-workers were gathered.
"Hey, Harry," a familiar voice said. Harry's old friend, Lee Jordan, was sitting at the table, his arm thrown around Effy's shoulder. "Come on, budge up," Lee told Effy, who scooted over. Harry grinned at the people around the table and took the seat next to Effy.
"Anyone seen Gigi?" A stocky, dirty-blonde guy asked, and Harry strained to remember his name. Taylor, that was it.
"I don't think she's coming out tonight, Taylor," he said. Effy let out a slight sigh and the rest of the table chuckled.
"Taylor's had a thing for Gigi forever," Effy told Harry in a whisper. Harry, to avoid glaring fiercely at poor Taylor, threw back some of his drink. "It's not like she ever comes out, Taylor," Effy said, turning back to the table. "Don't get your hopes up."
"Why doesn't she come out?" Harry asked, his interest perked.
Effy and the rest of the workers looked curiously at Harry.
"She doesn't really talk to co-workers," a tall man with an earring told Harry. He shook his head. "She's a work-a-holic. Barely ever leaves the office. I think she might live there." A few people snickered.
"She's come to a few things," Effy said defensively. "Really, everyone. She's not a complete bitch. She's quite nice at times."
Harry arched an eyebrow in surprise. "Oh yeah?" He said aloud, remembering their encounter from earlier.
"Yes," Effy said. "She came to the company Christmas party last year. With that fiancée of hers…what was his name?"
Harry's heart dropped.
"Ian," Lee said.
"No, no," the guy with the earring interjected. "It was Ryan."
"Yeah, Ryan," the rest of the table echoed, and then took a gulp of their drinks.
"Does he work for the Ministry?" Harry asked casually. However, it didn't sound casual enough, because everyone glanced at him, looking surprised and curious. "I just can't see her dating anyone from the office," Harry explained hastily, and everyone nodded in agreement, satisfied with this explanation.
"No," Effy said. "She's from America, you know. He was her childhood sweetheart or something. It's really awful, they had a big fight once, and he went back there and she hasn't talked to him since."
"They broke up ages ago," Lee said. He glanced at Harry with a piercing and knowing gaze that made Harry uncomfortable. "It was big, but she's definitely done with that. Moved on and such."
Harry couldn't help but feel somewhat lighter at his words.
While Harry and the rest of the Aurors were out, celebrating a new term, Gigi returned home. She placed her purse on the front table, next to the vase containing a single lily, and then hung her jacket up in the hall closet. Gigi walked into the kitchen, and waved her wand, setting a pot to boil, and a box of ravioli to spring from the freezer and slide onto the counter. With a sigh, Gigi picked up the old-fashioned telephone that was glued to the wall and dialed her mother's number.
"Hello?" A child's voice answered on the other hand. Gigi smiled at the voice of her younger brother, Gabriel, who was just ten years old, almost eleven years younger than herself.
"Hi Gabe," she said into the phone. "Is mum there?"
"Gigi, why are you talking like that?" Gabe asked, laughing. "Its mom, not mum." But he dropped the phone and she could hear him calling out for her mother in the background.
"Hi sweetie," her mother answered a second later. She sounded frantic. "Listen, I'm really busy right now. I have to take Gabe to school and then drive into New York today. Can I call you back when things settle down?"
"Oh," Gigi said, tracing her initials on the marble countertop. "Sure mom. I'll talk to you later."
Without saying goodbye, Gigi's mother hung up the phone. Gigi replaced the phone in the receiver, and then picked it up again. This time, she dialed a different number.
"Hello, love!" A voice said upon picking up the phone. Gigi smiled into the receiver. She could always count on her dear old dad.
"Hi Dad," Gigi began. But then, right as the words came out of her mouth, there was a loud giggle on the other hand. Gigi paused. "Dad?" She asked in an even tone. "Who's there with you?"
"Uhhh." Her father paused, and she could hear him bark something in Russian. There was another loud giggle, and then a demure voice replied back in the guttural language. "Just Ivanka, dear."
"Oh gross," Gigi said. "Dad, you haven't got another 30 year old girlfriend, have you?"
"Of course not," her father replied. He paused again. "She's twenty eight."
"Oh, disgusting," Gigi murmured, and her father chuckled.
"Now, now." He said. "David Meyer doesn't get older, he gets looser. I'm just trying to have some fun, Gige."
"I know," Gigi muttered into the phone. "Hey, dad, listen. Do you have a sec? I need to talk to you about something work rela-"
"Oops. Sorry Gigi, I have to go. Ivanka's trying to make us breakfast…and she burnt it."
Her father hung up. Gigi still held the phone to her ear, listening to the dial tone. Exasperated, Gigi slammed the phone back into the receiver. She placed her hands over her face and screamed.
