The next morning, Harry seemed as normal as he had ever been. He took of with Ron on the two Firebolt 55 brooms that Fred and George had given them to go to Auror practice, as usual. Ginny woke to the sunshine and their silhouettes gliding across the sky. Their robes whipped out behind them as they disappeared from sight below the horizon.
Since she had woken up later than usual, Ginny rushed to get dressed and hopped on her broom, heading in the same direction that Harry and Ron had gone. She bussed tables in a small, modest Wizarding café on the outskirts of London by day, and on Fridays like this day, she worked in a Muggle nightclub when she had finished her shift. Sometimes she enjoyed the nights in the club more than she did spending the day with her own kind of people- Muggles were so much more interesting in some ways. It was fun to observe how oblivious they were to the world around them. Ginny enjoyed flirting with them, too, and it would be a useful experience if she decided to pursue a career based on Muggle Studies, which had always been her best subject. The bag that she had packed her skimpier outfit in banged slightly against her broom as she began to dive down to where the café was located.
"Hey, Gin," called a lilting Irish voice from the window of the back room. Tommy O'Malley waved at a hand at her from the sink in the kitchen and then continued washing the dishes that he was occupied with. Ginny leaned her broom against the stand that the employees used and went inside to where Tommy was. She unhooked her apron from the peg and threw it over her head as she greeted her friend.
"Hi Tommy," she said. "How've you been?"
"Good as ever," he replied, grinning at her and sliding a clean dish onto the drying rack. "What about you? Taking care of yourself?"
"To the best of my abilities, yes," Ginny said as she slid a pad, a pencil, and some straws into her pocket and pushed open the swinging doors. "Have fun," she said sarcastically, eyeing the pile of dishes yet to be washed.
"Always too," he said brightly as she took note of who was sitting at her tables. There was a lone businessman reading a Daily Prophet at table 3, a woman in a miniskirt and bright red robes at table 7, and a young couple sitting with their feet nudging each other's at table 9. As the woman in the scandalous robes was closest, Ginny walked over to her table first.
"What would you like to order?" she asked the woman, momentarily distracted by the long, pointed, lime-green fingernails that the woman was tapping exasperatedly on the table.
"An alcoholic butterbeer and a Belgian waffle, please," the woman said quietly.
"We don't serve alcohol this early in the morning, ma'am," Ginny answered as she scrawled the order onto the pad in sloppy script.
"Virgin butterbeer, then," the woman answered, slightly raising her voice. The door opened and the small bell rang out across the store as Mary came scurrying out of the bathroom to begin waiting on her own tables.
"May I take your order, sir?" Ginny heard Mary ask as she rang the cook's bell and called out, "Belgian waffle and a butterbeer, Mark!"
"Toast and butter, and a glass of water," a slick voice asked. Ginny froze where she stood, her hand still suspended above the bell. Malfoy! What the heck is he doing here? Thankfully he hadn't noticed her yet and she ducked into the bathroom. The mirror reflected a flushed redhead whose blush didn't happen to complement her hair very nicely. Ginny calmed herself down and fixed her hair as she tried to keep track of all the different thoughts blasting through her head, from That evil snake to He was pretty cute when I saw him at Hogwarts. She ran a mascara brush along her eyelashes and then straightened up, slipping the mascara into the pocket where she always kept it. Calm down, Virginia, it's just Draco. Its…just…Draco.
Draco?!
You have to get out of this bathroom if you want to get paid. Resolutely, Ginny stormed out of the bathroom grasping her pad and her pencil in one hand and strode over to the table where the couple sat. Their hands lay clasped together on the table and they were speaking softly. Ginny cleared her throat. "May I take your order?"
"We'll both have pancakes," the boy said, glancing up at Ginny for a moment and then returning his gaze to his girlfriend's face.
"Ok, and to drink?"
"Café Latte," said the girl, "and we only need one glass."
"Ook," Ginny answered, writing the order down. She was acutely aware that she would have to walk past Malfoy as she went to take her other customer's order. His face was still obscured by the front page of the Daily Prophet. Malfoy, on the other hand, was glancing around the restaurant. Ginny had a perfect view of his shoulders. He's going to see the back of me. Maybe he won't recognize me.
I hope my butt looks good today.
Ginny took a deep breath and walked across the relatively small room, her eyes fixed on Malfoy's hair. He was reading the ingredients on the ketchup bottle as she passed and for a moment she allowed herself to feel relieved. He hadn't seen her! Phew-
"Weasley!"
Darn it. Darn it. Darn it!
Ginny stopped dead in her tracks and turned on her heel. "Malfoy," she said.
"What are you doing here?" Draco asked, squinting up at her face as if to make sure that it was really Ginny.
"I think the better question is, what are you doing here, Malfoy? Did they run out of your favorite coffee back in Knockturn Alley?"
"I'm in London on business."
"What business?" Ginny snorted. "I wasn't aware the Malfoys even have a business anymore. Voldemort's dead, you know," she informed him. Malfoy glared at her, his head tilted, the sunlight glaring off his white-blonde head.
"Sit down, Weasley," he ordered.
"I can't, I'm working, and I'm not going to get paid if I don't work," said Ginny, eyeing the man who was still waiting to be served. She could see his balding plate from over the headline.
"Sit," he repeated. Ginny plopped her butt down onto the leather booth seat and crossed her arms, her pad still in her hand. "So you work in a café?" he said, raising one eyebrow. "Even that Potter boy could do better."
Ginny stood. "You know, Malfoy, I really do have to get back to work," she said, throwing him a fake smile. "I'm sure I'll have the misfortune of running into you again during your stay."
"Cheers to that," said Malfoy as Ginny turned around and strode over to where the man was sitting.
"Sir, can I take your order?" she asked tonelessly.
"Just coffee, please," he said, his eyes still glued to the paper. Malfoy caught Ginny's eye and winked as she walked over to where the kitchen bell stood and called in her orders. The first one, the one for the strange woman with the robes, was already done and it was sitting growing cold on the countertop. Ginny scooped it up and balanced it on her palm as she carried it over.
"It's about time," the lady said, in a voice just over a whisper. Ginny chose not to answer as she walked off, afraid that something unpleasant might come out. Her mood had taken a definite downturn after talking to Malfoy.
