Chocolate Biscuits

Still 2nd of March

Office

5:03 PM

This – this – this is not on.

5:04 PM

There are papers.

5:06 PM

Don't mind papers too much, as they're very quiet and un-annoying objects, but I do mind them when they place themselves on my desk at the very moment I have to leave.

5:08 PM

I don't bother to knock this time; I just storm into Malfoy's office, my coat half-on, half-off, hanging lopsidedly over my robes (I must look idiotic – not that I care).

'Malfoy,' I manage, dropping my bag to the floor as I lean forward, 'there are papers. On my desk.'

'That's generally where papers are in the Ministry, Weasley. On desks.'

5:09 PM

Oh, how exceptionally witty.

5:10 PM

I let out an annoyed sigh.

'Malfoy, I have to leave now.'

'Leave?' he says, looking up from his desk, his reading glasses lying discarded (it's quite the sight, Malfoy in glasses. It's really fun to point them out and laugh, because it annoys him) atop an oddly placed book.

5:12 PM

Exploring Muggle Asia?

What, is Malfoy planning a holiday?

5:14 PM

'Yes, leave. It means that I'm going away. It means that there will be no more Ginny Weasley in the Ministry starting now. I'll be here again tomorrow.'

He rolls his eyes, drawling, 'You can't leave, Weasley,' haughtily.

'Yes, I can,' I retort.

'You haven't got permission.'

'I have too!'

'You haven't got mine.'

'Sod off; I don't need your permission!'

Malfoy stands up and raises himself to full height, which meant he's towering over me.

5:17 PM

I reckon he thinks it's quite scary.

It's not, actually.

Bill's taller.

5:18 PM

'I'm the Head of the Department, Weasley. What makes you think a secretary like you can decide to leave early without asking my permission?'

'You should mind your own business!' I snap.

5:20 PM

It was a bit slow, yeah, but my mouth finally said what my mind had intended to say two days ago.

There are happy feelings.

Well, mixed with angry feelings.

5:22 PM

That, apparently, wasn't the wisest thing to say.

Suddenly, Malfoy does look a bit scary. His eyes are narrowing, and he's glaring at me.

'Weasley,' he says, and it almost sounds like a threat.

'It's not,' I insist. 'Besides, if you're so hung up about it, you should tell Sabrina not to give permission to secretaries like me.'

'Sabrina?'

The scary and menacing Malfoy is instantly replaced with Malfoy, the Idiot.

'She gave you permission?'

'She's Deputy Head, Malfoy. Don't tell me she needs to ask your permission to give her permission to someone else.'

'She doesn't –'

'Don't care, not hearing you, going now, take care of the papers on my desk, yeah?' I say promptly, pulling on the rest of my coat and patting his hand.

5:24 PM

Ew, ew, I touched Malfoy's hand.

5:26 PM

As I'm about to turn, I spot an elegant glass vase filled with green powder. I glance at the fireplace, and then grin at Malfoy. 'Oh, thanks so much for offering.'

He looks a bit surprised, but when I grab a handful of Floo Powder, he starts to look faintly alarmed. 'There's no need for that,' I tell him, as I throw it into the fireplace. 'I'll only be in there a second – The Burrow!'

Malfoy's office spins out of sight, and I manage to keep it all together when the living room holds still. I stumble a bit and come face to face with Mum, who's sat in the chair across from me, already donning her large pink apron, wand in hand.

'You're late.'

'Mum – I didn't mean to, honest –'

There's a surprised, 'Gin?', then, and I look up, not daring to believe it.

Harry just came out of the backyard, glass in hand; followed by half the family (Ron looks shocked. Idiot). I'm about to open my mouth to retort, when the fireplace flares up again. 'That must be Percy,' Mum says, pushing me aside none-too-gently.

Fred manages the, 'Percy?' everyone's thinking, but it's not a tousled-looking Percy who appears in the fireplace.

It's Malfoy.

5:27 PM

What's Malfoy doing in my house?

Apparently, I'm not the only one who's thinking that. From all over, wands are directly pointed at his chest, even Hermione's (how she manages to balance the book, glass, bottle, wand and her enormous belly all at once, no one really wants to know).

'Ah, Malfoy, hello,' Dad says pleasantly, as if there isn't a former Death Eater standing in the middle of his living room.

'Evening,' Malfoy says stiffly, before wordlessly handing me my purse.

5:29 PM

Well.

Well.

I would've forgotten it, wouldn't I?

5:30 PM

Please tell me Malfoy was not just intentionally nice.

5:31 PM

That's absurd.

Malfoy?

You should have your head checked, suggesting things like that. What if I had believed you, eh?

5:32 PM

'Weasley,' he says, and there's a loud chorus of replies, varying from 'What?', 'Piss off!', 'Malfoy?' to my stiff 'Yes?'; Malfoy looks pained for a moment, then says, 'Don't be late tomorrow. And I expect those papers done first thing tomorrow.'

He's already stepped back into the fireplace before I can properly hex him.

Damn him.

5:33 PM

'Such a horrible boy,' Mum says, and I stare at her. She pretends not to notice as she stands up, brushing off her apron.

'Come along then, Ginny, you can help me with the rest of dinner.' I sigh warily. 'Mum, do I have to?'

Mum shoots me one of her Looks, and I reluctantly follow her into the kitchen. 'Er,' Harry says, as I walk past him, and I suddenly remember the conversation he had with Malfoy this morning.

'Wait, if you were going to show up, why did you ask me to say hi to my mum for you?' I demand, and he looks pained.

'I didn't mean to come –' he starts, but is interrupted by Ron, who punches his shoulder. 'Don't be a prat, Harry. You know Mum wants you to come over as much as you can.'

'Either way, I didn't mean to show up,' Harry says, glaring at Ron. 'Wouldn't have asked otherwise.'

'Why ask me, though, when Ron's place is nearer?'

He fidgets a bit. 'You were there.'

5:35 PM

Why did I ask him?

I always end up feeling like an idiot after Harry's talked to me.

I didn't used to.

Not for a while, at least.

It only started again after that whole You-Know-Who thing.

5:37 PM

'Ginny!' Mum calls, and I shake myself. 'Forget it,' I say to Harry, as I turn to follow Mum into the kitchen. I hear Harry sigh behind me and I turn around again. 'Why did you really?'

Ron and Hermione disappeared (probably up to Ron's room, doing things no one is interested in but themselves), so it's only us in the living room, and he swallows. 'I – I just miss you.'

Oh, he's good.

'You don't, Harry. You never have.'

'That's not true.'

5:39 PM

He's such a liar.

5:41 PM

'What, you were lying that time, too?'

'I was just trying to protect you!' Harry says, exasperated.

'Fat load of good that did.'

'Gin, you don't understand!'

I draw up to him. 'Don't I? I asked you, Harry. I asked, you, remember? And you said that I could bugger off, because you didn't care about me. And you've never bothered to change your opinion, you just avoided me.'

He's fallen silent.

'Just forget it. We'll be – somethings who know someones and it's fine that way. You don't have to pretend you miss me.'

'I'm not pretending,' he whispers, and I shake my head. 'Leave it, Harry. It's not worth it.'

10:30 PM

The Ministry is eerily quiet at this time of day; no one in their right mind would want to be out here this late. My desk is still as I left it: stacked with papers, a half-finished report lying haphazardly on my chair, large eagle quill in its inkwell.

I don't bother with taking off my coat when I sink into my chair after getting out the report. I glance at it once, then run a hand through my hair.

Best finish it, then.

1:00 AM

'Weasley?'

Why can't it be anyone but him?

'What?' I manage, hoarsely, behind the small stack of papers that is still left. 'Do I need to have permission to work here at night as well?'

'Weasley,' he says again, and I grab my quill angrily as I glare up at him. 'What?'

'You're ... crying.'

'And?'

'I've never -' he starts awkwardly, and it's then I notice he's not dressed in his usual Ministry robes. He's dressed in some lighter robes, and his hair's messy.

It's scary.

'Well?' I say, standing up now. My chair toppled backwards, but I'm not really bothered to pick it up right now.

It takes a short while, but then he says, 'It's Potter, isn't it?'

I hadn't meant to, but when he says that name, I freeze. 'By Salazar, you still love him, don't you?'

'What's it to you, anyway? Why do you care?'

'Wea –'

'Get out. Go away.'

'This is my department, Weasley.'

'Fine, I'll leave,' I say, rushing past him, but he grabs my hand, and pulls me back. 'Stop loving him,' he says gently. 'Just – stop it.'

Angrily, I raise my hand, and I slap him across the face. The sound echoes back from the walls in the very quiet department, and he slowly lets go off my hand.

I've started shaking by the time he turns his head towards me, and there's an angry imprint on his left cheek. 'I'm sorry,' I say, emotionlessly, staring at the wall behind him, 'won't happen again, sir. The reports will be done first thing tomorrow.'

'Okay,' he replies, and I let out a choked sob in reply; I bite down on my lip roughly to stop any more sounds from coming out.

'Thank you,' I say to the horrible tapestry on the wall, tears slowly streaming down my cheeks, and when I turn and flee from the room, there's no mocking laughter that follows me down the hall.

Author's Note: Ginny reckons you lot need to stop loving Malfoy, because he's not nice.

Thanks for all the reviews, they're all lovely and I enjoy reading them very much! Also, ne me quitte pas's sister, stop throwing water bottles. Flying water bottles are very dangerous.

And to answer pinkythesnowman's question: Malfoy is engaged to Pansy Parkinson because they're both rich and snotty purebloods and their goal in life is to marry other rich and snotty purebloods. Logical, really.