Title of Business and Pleasure
Author theundignified
(a little note from the author: none. actually.
Summary "why are you blushing?" "For one thing, you're breathing on my neck." "So?" "It seems like you're trying to seduce me." "What makes you so sure, Red?" "Well you were the Slytherin Sex God, back in the day." "And where did you hear that?" "Fanfictions written by bored, infatuated students at Hogwarts." "…well, if you insist. But may I add, Ms Weasley, I am still very active in my sex life." "…Can we please continue on with my interview, Mr Malfoy?"
Did she just give her boss a blowjob?
Fuck.
Who said it would be awkward? Of course it wouldn't be awkward. I mean, it wasn't him who went all out last night. If it was anyone who had to embarrassed, it was certainly not him. He had every reason and every right to stay laidback and watch with no embarrassment at her naked thighs (her skirt was hitching up), he did have his hands all over them back in the elevator…
"Are you done watching?" Ginny asked promptly, interrupting Draco's chain of thought as he yelped and almost fell out of his armchair.
For the past hour, Draco was overthinking about how much freedom he was now given after that little rendezvous in the elevator and in the corridor at 5 in the morning last night with his personal assistant. Instead of busying himself with background checks with clients, and listing down techniques to win his case at court the following day, Draco found himself immensely distracted.
Not like any other guy wouldn't be distracted if Ginny Weasley was strutting around in the room with her skirt hitched up.
"And shouldn't you be more embarrassed after you gave me a blow job?" Draco shot back just as promptly as she had did to him.
Ginny flushed red, and immediately slammed the door behind her. She walked straight up at Draco and hissed, "Obviously a respective lawyer like you does not know how to keep their personal and business life apart from one another."
"Not if my personal life is walking around with black lace underwear in my office," Draco responded dryly, "Nice choice by the way, it definitely defines your-"
"We're not in a relationship! We didn't even have a one night stand."
"No? I consider anything a one night stand if it involves me, a girl, and 'my boy'." He said, gesturing to his nether regions.
"Oh dear God, your boy." Ginny couldn't help but to snort at his awkward title for his family jewels.
"Well anyway, you should be opening the door again. You know how I like to welcome my clients." Draco pointed at the door, and twirled around in his chair absentmindedly.
Ginny glared at him, before turning her attention to Pansy, who had waltzed in just as she would have at any other day. "Weasley, you got an Owl from Luna Lovegood."
"Its about time." Ginny said, and without a glance at Draco, she left his office with the letter in hand.
Alone in his office, Draco looked up at Pansy with a chaste smile on his face.
"Stop smiling at me like that, its disgusting." Pansy sneered, crossing her arms and leaning at the cabinet of his office, "Let me guess, she gave you a blow job?"
"Why on earth would you think that as your first guess?" Draco asked seriously, furrowing his eyebrows. "Any normal human being would have started off with 'getting a date from her'… but you're the only woman I know who would think that the reason why I'm smiling so happily is because we did something explicit."
"So she did give you a blow job?"
"Damn you for pinpointing it at the first guess." Draco said, the smile returning to his face.
"You disgust me. You're smiling like that because she gave you a fucking blow job?"
"Don't degrade me, I'm a man with hormones." Draco waved her impression of him off his shoulders.
Pansy scoffed at him, "I never thought of you anymore than that." Without letting him respond to her catty remark, she swung around and left his office, leaving Draco to his train of thought.
For the past few days, Draco found something that was awfully strange.
Ginny Weasley has not been present in his office for quite some time.
Crazy with curiosity, Draco vaguely remembered that she disappeared the day after their little outburst about her and the elevator incident. Did she quit because he was being a little bit too loud and proud about it? (Well, who wouldn't be proud if you were able to get that redhead to give you a blowjob?)
Merlin be damned if he found himself admitting that he missed her.
Of course, he was quite self-conscious now that there was no one to talk to at the most random moments in the office. When the air conditioning of the whole building crashed and he was not allowed to magick himself out of the mess, all he could complain and bitch to was that cold hearted redheaded bitch. He disliked the silence and the absence of the witty and sarcastic conversations they would have. He kind of noticed that missing figure that would strut around his office with the most suggestive legs, and-
Wait, was he actually missing her?
Immediately standing up, Draco strolled out of his office and met Pansy at the receptionist office at the outmost room in front of the elevator.
"Parkinson," He drawled lazily, hoping to not sound a little desperate, "where's my personal assistant?"
"What? Miss her already? It's only been three days." Pansy responded just as lazily as he did.
Draco gave an inward scoff at her sarcasm. It was the same as his. Pansy always did steal from the best. He then did a double take. Three days? And he thought a week had passed!
"Don't joke with me Parkinson. I just want to know why my pencils aren't in place and my chair isn't spun at the right angle towards my desk." He cleared his throat, hoping he didn't sound like asshole.
"Boy, do you sound like an asshole." Pansy said bluntly, clearing his worries. Then the telephone next to her rang, and she immediately lifted it and put it down before anyone said anything in the speaker.
The blond looked at his secretary in shock, "That might've been an important phone call! What the hell am I paying you for?!"
"If it was important, they'll call back." She answered reasonably, "So what is this your interrogation with me about a certain Ms Ginny Weasley?"
"Like I said, she's my personal assistant."
"You'll live without her."
"Are you telling me she's gone? That she quit?!" Draco said a little too loudly.
"Well she that she was going to America-"
"Parkinson. I think I'll be taking a lunch break now." Draco said vaguely, leaving her desk absentmindedly. He took off to the elevator, and watched Pansy's confused scowl on her face before the elevator doors closed and brought him down to the lobby.
"Her house, her house, her house." He muttered, walking out of the elevator and towards the men's room.
Would Floo work?
Well, obviously that was his last resort seeing the fact that he has yet to master the skill of the bus routes of Muggle London. And Weasley had disabled the Apparating rights to her home. So he was left with taking a risk and Flooing to her home with only the words of "Weasley's house!"
"I suggest you say the full name." A voice whispered at his ears, causing Draco to jump in surprise.
"Bloody hell Zabini! What the fuck is wrong with you? And what the hell are you doing here?!"
"Just giving some friendly advice. Remember how many Weasley bunnies there are in London? What if you accidentally Floo into that Harry Potter loving sidekick Weasley's house while he was changing?" Blaise reasoned with him, knowing that this idea of a naked Ronald Weasley would be enough to persuade Draco.
And he was right, for Draco instantly stop hyperventilating, and suddenly looked quite overwhelmed at that mental image in his head. He gagged.
"If you were going to ask me to replace you for another blind date, Zabini," Draco said stiffly, feeling himself again, "you would be rather disappointed at my response today."
"I was actually coming over to ask Ginny Weasley for a date," Blaise smoothly revealed, raising an eyebrow at Draco crooked smile.
I had her first, mate. Draco screamed subconsciously in his head as he nodded at Blaise with the same crooked smile still on his lips, "Is that all then?"
"Well if she's not upstairs, then I guess I have to woo her some other time. By the way, Hannah Abbott was quite smitten with you on the day of your blind date, mate. She's head over heels. In fact, her mother told my mother that Hannah was trying to get her to get my mother to introduce your mother to her mother." Blaise explained, causing Draco to frown in confusion.
"Excuse me, what-?" He paused to look at the watch on his wrist, "Bloody hell Zabini, stop wasting my fucking life!" He left the conversation hanging, and entered the men's loo, ignoring the line up.
Not like there was a line up. All the men in the loo recognized this figure, and immediately paused to salute or greet him before running towards the opposite end of the room.
Draco Malfoy was on a mission, and they knew it.
Climbing into the look of a stall, Draco flushed it, and swirled into another room.
"Weasley's penthouse. Weasley's penthouse. Weasley's penthouse." Draco muttered again and again before he reached a fireplace. He hastily grabbed a handful of green powder in the sack towards the right, and he straightened his back, facing the fireplace.
'I suggest you say the full name.' Blaise had said.
Draco scowled at this logic, but gave in, because he was definitely not one to swoon at the sight of Ron Weasley's naked buttocks. Swoon dead, maybe, but never with a contented sigh.
"What the hell is her name again?" Draco mumbled to himself, as he racked his brain for a familiar name that suited the beauty of that redheaded witch. He grimaced as he remembered he was being timed.
"Fuck… ah," he squinted, suddenly vaguely recognizing a familiar name. He opened his mouth, and the name fell out of his lips smoothly and ever so sensually as if though he was saying it out of pleasure, "Ginevra Weasley's penthouse."
He fell out, face flat on the wooden floor of a nicely designed apartment.
Draco coughed. He was definitely not one to Floo to places. He always Apparated, drove a car, or simply had someone escort him through a nice big vehicle, or on a Broomstick. But hardly, rarely through a type of transportation that interacted with the slight possible chance of ending up sooty at the under end of the fireplace.
"Bloody hell Ginevra Weasley, the things I do for you." He said raspily, before getting up at once to familiarize himself with the surroundings.
He had expected to see empty boxes, and a room with no furniture, but he saw the opposite of what he had thought.
The penthouse he saw himself in was as luxurious as the image of the lobby he hazily remembers of the first trip to her house. The walls were far from one another, and the light that shone from one whole side of the house that should have been where a wall would've have built was sourced through a big window panel that covered the whole size of an average wall. The television on the floor of the far right were the old ones that existed in the 1970's, much unlike his current plasma flat screen TV hanging on the wall of his bedroom. Many volumes of law books were stacked next to the television, and its leaning figure threatened to fall over and cause a loud noise.
Of course, magazines for the young adults were stacked next to the law books, and –to Draco's amusement- so were a couple of Muggle Playboy magazines, hidden between the many issues of Vogue and Vanity Affair. He slowly moved his attention among other things, and was far from shocked to see feminine her penthouse was. He distinctively remembered how much of a tom boy 'Ginny Weasley' used to be back in Hogwarts, back when she kicked ass and did horrible things with bats and bogeys (which involved him).
The walls were a rich cream tone, which became a dark luscious shade of yellow whenever the sunlight hit it past the glass windows. The walls were decorated with Polaroids of different things- what he thought to be her family, her graduation, a cat, bloody Harry Potter, Puddlemere United, Paris, New York City, Hong Kong, her feet, candies, fucking Adrian Pucey, London, bitch of a Pucey, eggs, Pucey, Pucey, what the fuck?
He was disgusted at the amount of Puceys plastered on his walls, and almost jumped in horror when he heard a guttural groan coming from behind him. Draco swirled around to meet face to face with a very diseased looking Ginny Weasley.
The redhead was clutching a comforter, and had wrapped it around her head. Despite her sickened health, she had persisted to wear her usual silk rompers around. Her feet were stuffed in cow slippers.
Expecting something harsh coming from Ginny, Draco almost felt that he had gone deaf when he heard Ginny politely asking her in a wheezy voice, "And what the hell are you doing here, Malfoy?" Well fine, it wasn't exactly the nicest thing one can ever say, but Draco concluded that it was the nicest thing Ginny Weasley can ever say after she finds Draco Malfoy in her fucking house for no apparent reason.
"I-I thought, y-you left t-to, uh, America…" Draco's voice faltered, and his anger immediately took a hold of him, "Why the hell do you have so many pictures of Adrian Pucey in your living room?!"
Ginny raised an eyebrow, and moved over to glance at her walls in order to comprehend what he was talking about. "Many pictures of Adrian Pucey?" She repated, "If you mean five or six of them out of three hundred Polaroids plastered to my wall, then I guess."
"Five or six of them?" Draco snapped in disbelief.
"My God, you're more obsessed with him than I thought." Ginny snorted, "Yes Malfoy, you were probably so horror-stricken to find one picture of Adrian Pucey, your brain began to pick up and immediately recognizing more of Adrian Puceys on the wall out of so many other images. And dear Merlin Malfoy, you've got quite an eyesight. Half of the pictures of Adrian Pucey are images of his profile or him ten feet away from the camera."
Draco blinked, and turned around to face the wall.
Now that she mentioned it, after he wasn't as focused on Adrian Pucey anymore, he couldn't pinpoint any other images of Adrian Pucey on the wall. He had even forgotten where the original Polaroids of Adrian were in the first place.
"Now that we've figured out that mystery, let's tackle the next one: what the hell are you doing in my apartment, Malfoy, and how did you get in?"
"That's a good question."
Ginny eyed his usually flawless face marked with a hint of soot, "You Floo'd?"
"How'd you-?"
"Process of elimination. Its also a method of discovery for detectives and lawyers." She said, snuffling, and she flopped onto the big sofa perched in the center of the living room. "So you want to tell me why you're in my apartment, Malfoy?"
"I thought you quit." Draco said simply.
"Obviously not." Ginny confirmed.
"Didn't you go America?"
"That I did."
"And why aren't you at work, now?"
"Because I'm fucking ill." Ginny said dramatically, rolling her eyes, "Kind of obvious."
Draco paused to take a good look at the evidence which would back up his personal assistant's claim. Sure enough, Ginny was wrapped in a thick comforter as if though she had been dunked into a bath of iced water. Despite the basking warm sunlight glow pooling into the living room, Ginny looked extremely pale. Dark circles highlighted her eyes, as if though she hadn't slept for days.
"I guess your reason is legit." Draco finally said hastily.
Ginny threw a ball of used tissue at him.
Draco yelped, reeling back at the bacteria. "Bloody hell, Weasley!"
The redhead sniffed, and toddled over to her sofa. "Anyway, get out. Let your sick assistant get one day of rest."
Instead of agreeing and leaving her house immediately, Draco stood motionless. "I don't believe you," he said, contradicting his words before, "anyway, I think I have to stay here to make sure you're sick all the way. I wouldn't want you weaselling your way out of work, and then go get it on with Adrian Pucey as soon as I leave."
"He's in San Diego." Ginny replied, rolling her eyes at his naiveté. "Bloody hell, Malfoy, stay out of my sex life."
"No."
"And get out."
"No."
"You-"
"As your employer, I will send investigators to ensure that you are not lying through your teeth and that you are actually sick. And guess what, I decide to hire myself as an investigator." Draco said, smirking at Ginny with his signature grin, "I guess I'll be stuck with you for the rest of the day."
"You know you'll end up sick like me." Ginny mumbled, pausing to give a sneeze.
"I have a pretty strong immune system, Weasley." Draco arrogantly insisted, sitting on the sofa.
Despite the fact that Ginny was ill and cold to the bone, they had switched sitting arrangements. Draco sat on the sofa, comfortably crossing his arms and watching Ginny, who was sprawled on the floor with her blanket wrapped tightly around her body.
"I can't believe you're holding me under investigation because I called in sick. Can't I be absent for one day?" Ginny demanded.
"You've been gone for three whole days." He responded, dismissing her.
"I told you, I went to America for two days and I came back sick!"
"You said Adrian Pucey is in San Diego, currently. Am I right?" Draco suddenly asked, changing topics.
"Yes."
"Did you two happen to go together?"
Ginny eyed him carefully, "Yes, actually."
Damnit! A honeymoon with another right after you we have a night of fun? You bitch! Draco cleared his throat, "Did you guys… do anything there?"
"I went to America to take care of things, not to have sex on the beach with him on American sand." Ginny said, clearing his doubts, but quickly dragged his anxiety back in when she said, "we prefer Spanish sand in Spain beaches."
"Was I… any bigger than his?"
Then there was silence.
Ginny snickered.
Draco turned red. "What!? What the hell are you laughing at?"
"Your question." Ginny replied honestly, hiccupping.
"Yeah, you know what, I never asked." Draco turned around to face the wall. He placed his chin on the sofa's backrest, and stared at the wall sulkily. Weasley is a bitch. Weasley is a mean bitch.
The familiar silence that seeped between their conversations appeared once more.
Whilst staring at the other side of the wall, staring at the Polaroids of Ginny's adventures around the world, Draco heard a shuffle from behind him. Ginny was getting a mug of hot coffee to ease her cold symptoms. Coffee is the best solution for practically anything, besides duct tape.
When Ginny returned from the kitchen, she amusedly watched Draco stare childishly at the wall, avoiding to meet her eyes.
"Yours was bigger."
Draco didn't respond, nor did he turn around to face her. But Ginny knew that on the side of his head, a victorious grin was etched on his lips at the newfound piece of information.
END OF of Business and Pleasure CHAPTER SEVEN
Oh. I'm having fun writing these chapters. There will be a sneak peek to chapter eight, since I was writing that anyway but I thought it would better to separate the scenes as chapters seven and eight.
Sneak Peek:
They found themselves on the bed, both looking as if though they hadn't slept for days.
Draco groaned at the pain aching in his thighs. His throat was killing him. He would've sworn that a simple Crucio curse would've felt less as painful as the current state he was in. "Ginny Weasley, this is all your fault." He moaned, turning his head towards the redhead who looked as if though she had passed out right next to him.
Ginny fought to turn his head towards the blond, "Look here bastard, you insisted on staying with me yesterday despite the fact that I was obviously sick. Its your fault that you didn't believe me, and decided to sort out an 'investigation' for a whole day."
"Why did you have to sneeze and cough all over the place?" Draco persisted, struggling to sit up.
"Well I don't know, Malfoy, maybe because I was sick in my own home?" Ginny sarcastically answered, watching him go limp and falling over on the bed again.
"Ugh, whatever."
"And because of your stupidity, now we're both stuck at your house, as sick as shit." Ginny confirmed, looking at the ceiling.
"Why are you even on my bed? You're putting all your germs on it."
"Compared to your germs, Malfoy, mine is nothing."
Draco didn't say anything.
One day. At his house. Sick. Together. What fun they'll have.
