Chapter 7 Tuesday Tea
Ginny stood behind the counter at the flower shop staring at nothing in particular, too wrapped up in her thoughts to stay focused. She was almost sure that the sensation from the night before wasn't just a feeling, but had actually happened. Unfortunately, she had no proof, so she'd settled for increasing her wards instead.
The wards she'd had in place were designed to allow her to apparate in and out at will, but kept other wizards out. The person she'd felt the night before had to have apparated in. She wasn't on the floo network, and it wasn't as if someone could force a window and crawl in; her spells made all windows and doors into the house impenetrable.
Not willing to take any chances, Ginny had increased her wards so that even she couldn't apparate there unless the wards were disabled.
"You're going to burn a hole in the wall if you keep looking at it like that," Mrs. Crutchfield chuckled as she came back into the room, snapping Ginny out of her line of thought.
Ginny smiled, "I'm sorry... is there anyone on the patio I can help?"
"That insufferable Wallington woman is out there," the older woman replied with a knowing look.
"Oh wonderful," Ginny said, rolling her eyes.
"I'll take care of her," Mrs. Crutchfield offered happily. "Besides, don't you have to get to your tea? It's Tuesday after all."
"My what? OH! I completely forgot. I'm not late yet. Thanks Anne, I'll see you after my lunch break," the redhead exclaimed, as she made her way from the shop.
Tuesday Tea was a concept that was introduced to Ginny when she had moved onto her street. All the women who lived around her took turns throwing a tea every Tuesday afternoon, and Ginny was invited to attend.
"Invited" really meant "expected" to the neighbor ladies, or run the risk of being branded anti-social, rude, or dodgy. Ginny didn't mind going however. In fact, she generally enjoyed it, having hosted it herself a few times.
This week, tea was at her next-door neighbor Mrs. Davis's house, and Ginny was speeding down the curvy road on her bicycle trying to make it on time. Pulling up to the house, she leaned her bike on the mailbox post, checked her appearance, and hurried inside.
"Sorry ladies," she apologized, "I had trouble getting away at work."
Each lady greeted her. There was Mrs. Davis, who was very old but full of life; Mrs. Masters, who had six children and reminded Ginny a lot of her mother; Ms. Simons, who was middle aged, but had never married; Mrs. Holland, who had lost her husband a few years earlier and didn't get out much; and also Mrs. Blackstone, who was also very old and had moved from America to England when she was in her thirties.
Ginny was the youngest, being only twenty-six, and she generally just listened to the other ladies talk. They usually just gossiped, but it was a break from everyday life. She always left early for lunch on Tuesdays so she could join them.
"So, Ginny, I heard you had some company Sunday night," Ms. Simons said, giving Ginny a sly look.
"What? Oh, Harry. No, he's just a friend," she replied.
"Honey, I'm old enough to know that they are never just friends," Mrs. Blackstone countered sweetly.
"Amen to that," chimed in Mrs. Davis.
"Who told you about Harry?" Ginny asked rather unhappily.
"It was Tate Wallington," Mrs. Holland answered.
"I should have known," the redhead muttered.
"We're not judging you, dear," Ms. Simons said.
"But he is just a friend. We dated once for a short time when we were teenagers, but that's all," Ginny tried to explain.
"It's nothing to fuss over, Honey," Mrs. Davis said. "Mrs. Blackstone and I had our young days full of good looking 'friends' too, you know."
Ms. Simons added slyly, "I still have 'friends' like that."
"We just want to relive a bit of our glory days," Mrs. Blackstone chuckled.
"Tate said he never left during the night," Mrs. Holland put in. "She was just gushing about it."
Ginny groaned, "What did she do, sit outside me house all night? That crazy old… I'll teach her-"
"I wouldn't cross Tate if I were you," Mrs. Masters offered. "If you just let it go, everyone will forget about it soon enough. But if you make her mad, she'll just make it worse for you."
"None of us can stand the woman, dear," Mrs. Davis said. "Why do you think she's not invited?"
"I always just assumed it was because she lived across town, and this was for ladies on our street," Ginny shrugged.
"Well that's what we tell her," Ms. Simons replied. "If she knew it was because we all detested her, you'd be hearing about us a lot more in the gossip channels."
"Trust us," Mrs. Masters cautioned, "if you get on her bad side you won't have a single secret. And when she's run out of your secrets, she'll start making things up."
"She'll have half the town believing you're a drag queen and the other half believing you're a witch," Mrs. Blackstone joked.
Ginny stiffened at the jest, but laughed along with the women. The conversation drifted to other topics until it was time to leave. They all thanked Mrs. Davis at the door and were reminded that the next week's tea would be held at Ms. Simons' house.
Ginny desperately wanted to confront the blasted Wallington woman. She wanted to yell at her, start a nasty rumor about her, humiliate her, curse her even!
"I can't be the only one who feels that way. Why do they let her get away with it? That stupid, insufferable, Rita Skeeta in muggle clothing..." she muttered all the way into her livingroom.
"Basil?" she called when he didn't greet her at the door. She spotted him in a corner, his nose pressed to a small hole in the baseboard. He turned to look at her as she called him, then turned back and stuck his paw into the hole.
"Great," Ginny said exasperatedly. "I've got people apparating into my house at four in the morning, I'm the latest topic of all the rumormongers, and to top it all off I've got mice!"
She couldn't take anymore. Drama was not something she was accustomed to anymore, and she'd been delivered a large dose of it. Calling the shop, she told Mrs. Crutchfield about the gossip, and asked for the rest of the day off. The kind woman gladly obliged, and Ginny was eternally grateful.
Curling into an armchair, she was joined by Basil, who demanded a bit of finger sandwich she'd brought from Mrs. Davis's, and began to read.
"Chapter eight...Cloak and Debt..."
Madame Rosmerta walked over to the now solitary Draco and cleared her throat. He snapped out of his daze and looked up at her.
"We don't serve your kind here," she quipped.
"My kind?" Draco drawled, knowing what she meant.
"You are a deatheater," Madame Rosmerta sneered back. At the accusation, many of the restaurant patrons froze and stared at the blond young man.
"I don't know what you are talking about," Draco said dryly, not in the mood to deal with the stupid prejudices of a lowly tavern owner. "I want a bourbon."
"I said you'll get nothing here," she repeated, getting angry. "Now you leave, or I'll get some of these gents here to help you leave."
Draco snapped. It wasn't the accusation that angered him, but the fact that it indeed made him that much more like his father.
"Listen here," he shouted in Rosmerta's face as he towered over her, "I am a paying customer and I said I want a drink. Get it for me!" He looked up to see several wizards standing with their wands drawn, giving him looks of hatred.
Draco instantly knew that he'd let his temper get the best of him, and had gone too far. If he tried to pull out his wand they would kill him, but he was not about to apologize either.
He stood there helplessly, staring at his opponents with his cold gray eyes. Madame Rosmerta was still standing defiantly in front of him.
To his surprise, he heard a barely audible voice whisper softly, "Impercio." Before Draco could locate the voice, a soft cloth was being thrown over him.
Draco saw Madame Rosmerta's expression change to one of pure astonishment for a split second before someone began pushing him towards the door quickly but silently.
Though he wasn't sure what was going on, he had the good sense to keep quiet. The tavern patrons were looking around the whole room in a state of shock. As he was being pushed across the threshold of the Three Broomsticks, he heard Madame Rosmerta say in amazement, "How did he disapparate without his wand?"
Realization dawned on him. The charm he'd heard was to make him disappear. The cloth was obviously an invisibility cloak. Someone had walked into the tavern wearing the cloak, placed the invisibility charm on him to make him appear to have vanished instantly, and had then covered him with the cloak before the charm wore off.
He turned underneath the fabric and found Ginny looking up at him, an 'I can't believe I'm doing this' look on her face. He almost said something, but she slapped her hand over his mouth quickly and motioned for him to follow her. He had to stay close behind her to avoid being uncovered.
This woman had, only moments ago, called him the worst thing she could have possibly imagined, and now she was saving him from a situation that could have easily resulted in his death. Of course, it was all her fault; she'd caused his bad mood. It was the first time he had found himself in a situation that he couldn't handle, and he was surprised that anyone, let alone Ginny, had come to his aid.
They walked a good distance from the tavern before Ginny turned down an alleyway. When they were no longer visible from the main street, she pulled the cloak off of them.
Draco opened his mouth to say something, but she cut him off. "Don't," she said as she folded up the cloak and returned it to a bag. "I don't want to hear it, and I don't want to discuss it. I don't want any rude remarks about how you could have taken them all, because you couldn't have. And I don't want any pronouncements of gratitude either, not that I was actually expecting any from you."
She began to walk off, but turned to face him again, "I suggest you get your own invisibility cloak and use it for the rest of the day. They are liable to kill you if they see you walking around town again. Word will travel fast that there is a deatheater around."
"Great," Draco muttered. He called out to the retreating form, "Ginny! I mean Virginia…" she turned to face him again.
"Why?" he asked, dumbfounded.
"I was standing outside the tavern," Ginny admitted. "And I heard it all. I had bought the cloak in the second shop you ambushed me in, and I couldn't just leave you there."
A smug look spread over the blonde's face, before he said, "It's because I'm so devilishly attractive, isn't it?"
"I was thinking it was more like I was saving the mission from 'failing grievously.' Isn't that how you explained your importance to it all?" she replied in her own equally smug voice. "I have to go now."
She turned to walk away, but a hand grasped her arm and turned her back around. "What is it now?" she snapped.
"Could I give you my money to buy the things I need? I'll pay you. If I can't go onto the streets visible, how am I supposed to buy anything? The shopkeepers will know who I am too, now that the word is out. If that stupid wench hadn't recognized me none of this would have happened. Doesn't the Malfoy name mean anything anymore? People are supposed to fear me!" Draco did not like being in this situation where he had to ask someone else for help.
"Your delusions of grandeur are not my problem," she quipped, regretting that she was being mean again.
"Delusions of grandeur are my major source of self esteem...that and the family name...and money...and..." Draco stopped when he saw Ginny scoff and turn to leave.
"Please," he muttered.
Ginny was dumbstruck. Draco Malfoy had just said please.
"I don't want your money," she sighed, turning back, "but I'll do it…only you have to do something for me."
"Yes?" he said, not liking the look that had spread on her face. It was too much like one of his own, which wasn't a good thing.
"Well, the way I see it, I almost saved your life back there," she replied, as the sheer genius of her idea was sinking into her head. "And you're right. If you go back onto the streets, you'll get into more trouble - probably serious trouble." She paused for dramatic effect. "So, technically, if I do this for you, I'm saving you from all that as well. If you add up all the saving I'm doing, I believe I'm entitled to a wizard's debt."
"A wizard's debt?" Draco said in disbelief. "Oh come on!"
"That's your choice," Ginny replied, turning to leave the alley. Her mind was screaming for him to call her back. His life may have depended on her help, but she wasn't going to give it freely just yet.
Draco brooded about it for a moment before deciding that she was right, unfortunately. If he went back into the village he would get into more fights. For the mission to work, he didn't need to make any more scenes than he already had. Not to mention, he wasn't sure that they wouldn't kill him on sight if he dared show his face again.
Sighing exasperatedly at the thought of being in Ginny's debt, he weighed his options again before deciding. "Fine," he yelled at her retreating form. If he had to pick who he'd like to be indebted to, he supposed she would have been the best candidate.
A glint of triumph was visible in the vivacious redhead's eyes as she turned to face him again. This scared Draco a bit, but he tried to convince himself that she was only looking so elated because she'd finally beaten him. She would probably never call it in. His mind didn't buy it.
"Deal!" she said proudly as she walked back to him with her hand out. Draco took it in defeat and shook. With the terms settled, Ginny pulled out her cloak again and said, "Alright, I'll take you to the tunnel so that you can go back to Hogwarts. Give me your money and your list."
Draco did as he was told before getting back under the cloak with her and trudging dejectedly back to Honeyduke's. He was just about to disappear under the trapdoor when Ginny said with a devilish grin, "Oh, and Draco...don't think I won't call it in."
Her smirk broadened at his look of horror, and she swept out of the back room. Draco groaned loudly, and descended into the tunnel.
Harry and Ron were having difficulty with their trip as well. Actually, it was more like Harry was having the trouble and Ron was being pulled along for the ride, not that he didn't enjoy the attention.
It was hard to keep a low profile when you were credited with saving the whole magical community - twice. Everywhere the pair went, they were given a hero's welcome.
At the moment, they were in the shop 'Practical Potions: A Store for the Busy Witch', which offered shelves upon shelves of pre-made potions. Ron was in the section titled 'Bizarre Brews' examining a dragon skin tonic, which made the drinker impervious to being harmed by sharp objects for twenty- four hours.
Harry was trying to find a night vision potion, since he knew that the death eater's hideout would more than likely be extremely dark, and it would keep him from being seen if he didn't have to use 'lumos' all the time.
As he was searching, a little boy ran up to him with a card and a quill. "Excuse me, Mr. Potter, sir…would you sign my card please?" the child lisped. Harry took both objects from the boy, who couldn't have been more than six years old. He recognized the card as one out of a chocolate frog box.
He couldn't count the number of these cards he had autographed, with the picture of him whizzing around on his broom during one of his quidditch matches.
The caption read, "Harry Potter gained notoriety at the age of one when he defeated the infamous wizard, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. He proceeded to thwart the Dark Lord during his years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and finally defeated him in the last battle of the Dark War. Now, he is a champion Quidditch Seeker for the Chudley Cannons, who have won the world cup every year since he joined the team."
Harry scrawled his name on the card before handing it back to the boy. "There you go," he smiled and gave the boy a wink. With a whooping "thank you", the boy scurried out of the store.
"They need to update those silly cards," Harry said as Ron walked up. "We didn't win the world cup last year since Bulgaria replaced Krum."
"By the way Harry," Ron said, "What does Wood have to say about you missing practice and going on a potentially life threatening mission two weeks before this years World Cup?"
"He doesn't know. Well, he knows I'm "out of town", he doesn't know why," Harry replied, as he selected a Fame Repellent: guaranteed to quash renown and recognition for several hours.
He paid for the potion and drank it immediately; he needed to escape his supporters today. As he renewed his search for the night vision potion, Ron asked, "Well, what if you lose because of this? What if you get hurt and can't play?"
Harry was distressed by the question. "If Lord Voldemort's followers aren't dealt with then the whole world loses, Ron. Quidditch is just a game, you win some and you lose some. This isn't a game. We can't lose this one. You know me, I've always been willing to put myself in danger to see that the dark side doesn't hurt anyone else, and I'm willing to lose the World Cup too," Harry answered in a sharp guarded whisper.
"I was, you know- just checking," Ron replied, as Harry found his second potion.
As they paid for their selections Ron said, "We're supposed to meet Ginny for lunch at The Three Broomsticks in a few minutes."
"Sure thing," Harry commented as they walked out of the shop to a busy street, where for once nobody noticed The Boy Who Lived.
Ginny smiled happily. It had felt so good to get one up on Malfoy, that remembering it made her forget that Mrs. Wallington had gotten one up on her.
Sabacat Glad you like it, I hope to keep pleasing! Thanks!
Meredith Draco and Ginny are definitely developing something, and it's only going to get more intense! Hermione, Hermione, Hermione...I'll be telling you soon! Thanks again for such wonderful reviews!
OpalKoboi Is it Draco? A lot of people seem to think that Basil is Draco. I can't exactly say either way I guess, being the author and all. Remember though, Ginny has a lot of men in her life if you think about it...even if she doesn't see them, and Basil could just be a cat.
DracoNGin527 So you think the mystery man is Ron... they think it's Draco. I'm glad you like a temperamental Ginny, b/c I generally serve up a big dose of fiery redhead! Thanks for your reviews!
Kim I don't know if Ginny and Draco really made up in this chapter...but at least she's not screaming at him anymore. It'll happen, don't worry. Thanks for reading!
JeanB Here's more! I'm glad you like it, and thanks for reviewing!
Chelswhit I'm so sorry about the delay! I hope you enjoyed it though! Thank you!
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