~*All You Wanted*~

Chapter Two: Coffee Breaks

Dove: Yes, we are back with the silly titles and much inane humor. And coffee. Because "Draco Malfoy the Amazing Bouncing… Rat?" has corrupted us beyond all recognition. And we were already pretty corrupted. But not corrupt. That's for politicians.

Bena: Like Alex?

Dove: Like Tsau. Who we will see in excess in the next chapter. However, in this chapter, we journey into Gabrielle's mind a bit, and Ginny discovers the betting pool. Run for your lives.

Bena: Betting pools are fun! I like betting pools! They're fun to swim in! Especially when they have penguins I think I've had too much coffee.

Dove: Maybe a little too much.

Disclaimer: If we were J.K. Rowling, Alex would be canonical.

"If I can't take my coffee break, something inside me dies-yes lies down and something inside me dies!"

Harry opened his eyes and squinted into the sun. It was shinning directly into his eyes from the window-it was early morning, early enough that the sun hadn't risen enough for him to open his eyes comfortably. Harry rolled over, put on his glasses, and wondered briefly what had woken him so early.

The answer stared at him from the fireplace, red hair a bit dusty from the ashes, eyes blazing.

Harry yawned. "Oh. G'morning, Ginny."

"Harry!" she yelled. "Hurry up and finish this assignment! Draco-excuse me, Minister Malfoy, for all I know he's listening right now-is convinced he can do whatever he wants to me!"

"Oh. In that case, who won?" Harry asked mid stretch.

"Who won what?"

"Never mind."

Ginny tossed her hair. "Well, in any case, I have never been so affronted before in my life! If I get asked one more time to practice 'pair flying', I'm going to explode!"

"Since when are you a teapot?"

"This isn't funny!"

Harry didn't agree, but said nothing. "All right, so why do I need to come back then?"

"Because," she wailed, "he won't stop trying to seduce me! At least while you were around, he tried to use some semblance of suave. I think he figured he had to outdo you. But now you're gone and he's like a bad cliché!"

"He wasn't before?

Ginny ignored him and continued railing. "You don't really need to do this, do you? I mean, will it really matter much if France gets destroyed? No one will miss it!"

"I will. Sirius will. All the French people will be most unhappy if they no longer have a nationality." Harry climbed out of bed. "Ginny, is there a real reason you called me up this early, or are you just unable to find Hermione to sympathize with you?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "As a matter of fact, I do. Malfoy says to tell you that our source in France has just contacted us. The address we gave you may be incorrect. Gabrielle Delacour may no longer reside there. She may still be using it, but lately our source says she's been seen spending the evenings at..." She frowned. "Oh, I can't pronounce it. Here." She handed Harry a slip of paper, and Harry took it from the fireplace. "Just an update, you know."

"Thanks, Ginny," Harry said. "You might try transfiguring him into a ferret and hiding him in his desk drawer after bouncing him all around the room."

"There's an idea," she said, grinning. "I might try that."

Harry nodded. "Good. Then I'll win the betting pool, and have the money for a decent flat."

"Betting pool?" Ginny's eyes narrowed. "What betting pool?"

Realizing he was on boggy ground, Harry tried to evade. "There's a betting pool?"

Now Ginny's eyes were slits. "Don't you lie to me, Harold James Potter."

Harry squirmed under the gaze. He thought it was unfair that every female seemed to be perfect at that icy, furious stare that made men tell them whatever they wanted to hear before they thought about it. He wondered if it was something mothers taught baby daughters while they were still in their cradles. "Well, there was this betting pool on when you... and Malfoy... would... you know..."

"Would what?" Her voice was the ominous roll of thunder.

Harry muttered something under his breath.

"What was that, Harry? Say it louder, please."

"Wouldsleeptogether," he finally managed, slurring the words. Judging by the murder he read in Ginny's eyes, she had understood. "I bet on 'never', just so you know," he justified himself quickly. "I think the whole idea is sort of sick, really, and I wasn't the one who-"

"You bet?"

"Er... Yes ma'am?"

"You are a dead man, Harry Potter." She pulled herself out of the fireplace, wand drawn. In his pajamas, Harry felt very vulnerable as he backed into a corner.

Just then, the fire flashed green again, and Draco, immaculate even at this early hour (damn him) rushed out and pinned Ginny's arms behind her. "Now darling, as much as he might deserve it, do restrain yourself from killing my best detective."

Ginny stiffened and flushed. "Let go of me, you barbarian."

"No, I don't think so." With that, he picked her up, carelessly said "My office" and threw her in the fire to her curses. "Well then, sorry about that," he said. "Tempers in redheads run high, you know."

"Won't those... er... obscenities get her lost?"

"They might," he shrugged. "She'll find her way eventually." He stepped half into the fire, and Harry thought that he obviously had been eavesdropping. "Carry on with your work, and don't disappoint me by sleeping in." As it was a little after six, Harry felt this was unjustified. "Oh, and by the way, Potter," he grinned wolfishly, "just so you know, you're losing that bet."

With that and a mutter as to destination, he vanished in a puff of green smoke.

All in all, it was quite a morning.

Harry sighed, and headed into the bathroom. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. Even after this long, he still looked scruffy and unkempt in the mornings, almost more so now that his hair had grown out a bit more. He glared at his reflection. "Idiot Malfoy. I bet he sleeps in a hyperbolic chamber."

It didn't take too long to get dressed and looking more presentable. Once out of his pajamas and a bit more neatly groomed, Harry felt much more like a human being, and less like a frog that Ginny wanted to turn into a tiny bomb. He sat down on the edge of his bed, and looked at the closed file. "Now, where should I start?"

The new address seemed as good a place as any-after all, he had no real information on the Delacour woman, and no idea of anyone else who might know something about her. Decision made, Harry tucked the file inside his coat, and headed out the door.

Paris was just waking up in the sleepy, primarily wizarding part of town that held "Le Cignet Gris". He got on the subway at first opportunity with early morning commuters, and spent quite a long time bouncing around in the packed car. He still preferred this method to floo, however, so he had no room to complain.

Getting out at a station on the outskirts, he boarded another train, this one bound to the houses of the privileged in the countryside surrounding Paris. He really thought this new location made much more sense than did the one in town. A place of darkness was bound to be noticed unless it was hidden away well.

Thus he was not surprised that once he stepped off the train, he had to walk what had to be several miles before he saw another settlement. He solved this problem by casting a speeding charm on his feet, causing him to walk at the speed of a run. Thus, it didn't take long before he reached a chateau cloaked in foliage, surrounded by quaint iron gates. There was a box, obviously spelled, on one side, which emitted a quick "Qu'est-ce que vous dezirés?" in a pleasant baritone.

"Mademoiselle Delacour," he said shortly, wondering if they would be stupid enough to let a Ministry wizard in unchecked or would, at least, gather some information. He was, after all, gathering impressions, trying to get a hand around this case since he had little to no concrete information.

To his vast surprise, after a few moments of silence, the gates opened soundlessly, and the little box invited him to enter. He did so, walking slowly on his now-uncharmed feet and taking in the lush, beautiful gardens. In early fall, they were colors of rust and gold, and looked unduly cheerful for the black stone chateau that loomed behind.

Harry stepped up the rounded steps to the main door. There was a heavy lion knocker, and he lifted it and gave it three sharp raps that reverberated throughout the house.

Then the door opened, and he forgot about the gardens, and everything else.

She leaned on the door frame, obviously for effect. She was small, he realized. Much shorter than he had thought she would be. Lush curves were encased in a slinky dress the dark red of fresh blood, which was cut very low and left little to the imagination. A waterfall of blonde hair, in loose waves ending with curls cascaded past her waist. Eyes the color of the ocean looked out from under black velvety lashes. They were heavily lined, making them appear mysterious, and the bright red lipstick shone in a way many women he knew had tried and failed to emulate. There was a small cat's smile on her face as she frankly looked him up and down.

Harry thought he might have forgotten to breathe for a minute.

"Well," she said, her voice a high, sensual whisper. It was deeply accented, and matched her appearance perfectly. "It appears zey 'ave sent me ze best. Won't you come in, Monsieur Potter? You are to question me, non?"

***

Ginny barged into the room furiously and slammed her hands onto the table in front of Parvati. "I'm sitting miserable practically playing secretary to that damnable Minister of Magic from Hell, and you all just sit here calmly playing salon?!?!"

Lavender looked up from braiding a few strands of her hair. "It's what secretaries do. Besides, Parvati isn't playing salon. She's taking a coffee break. They exist, you know."

"That sounded awkward, even to me," Parvati responded absently, flipping through her book. "Work on your delivery. Don't try so hard."

"Right." Lavender stored that bit away for later. "Got it."

Ginny flopped into a chair and groaned. "I don't get it. I'm an Auror working like a personal slave to His Mightiness and you, Parvati-you're actually supposed to be Alex's drudge, and you're here reading! What's he paying you for?"

"Testy, testy," she replied as Alex entered.

He lounged against the doorway, raising an eyebrow at the women. "What are we paying for now? Did the pool close?"

"That reminds me…" Ginny glared around at the others. "What's this I hear about a betting pool?"

"Oh, that." Lavender smiled and pulled out her wand, wafting a cup of tea over to Ginny. "Everyone in the Ministry's got an ongoing bet as to when Draco's going to finally get you to crumble."

Ginny took a sip and made a face. "What is this crap?"

"Green tea. Honestly, Virginia, get some taste."

"I'd rather not if it involves this. What do you mean, getting me to crumble?"

"How soon before you two start shacking up." Alex took the cup from Ginny. "I'm winning, by the way. Hey, if you don't want this, can I have it?"

Ginny's eyes blazed. "What?"

Parvati looked at Alex. "That's right… you are. It escapes me how someone as clueless about his own romantic life as you can possibly be so dead on about everyone else's."

"It's a gift." Alex shrugged. "Besides, I pick up on emotions. For example-"

"If you say Minister Liang is giving off vibes again, so help me I will slug you," Ginny growled.

"My, my," Lavender said, concerned. "Why so touchy?"

"Draco's bragging about how far he got last night," Parvati supplied.

"Last night?" Alex did some rapid calculations. "Oh wow, I won that part of the poll. At this rate I'll be rich."

"Nothing happened!" Ginny protested.

"Sure, sure." Lavender stood up. "Well, I've got to get to a meeting, since Hermione says she'll strangle me if I'm late again," she said, referring to her boss, the Muggle liason and the only person in the Ministry that Minister Malfoy seemed to respect. "Are we still on for dinner tonight?"

"Of course." Parvati waved as her friend left, then glanced at Ginny. "Did you get the stuff delivered to Harry?"

"Huh?" Ginny blinked. "Oh. Yes, I did. Alex is winning the betting pool? What exactly did he bet, hmm?"

Alex grinned. "I've got to get a birthday present for Tsau. It'll get me back on his good side for postponing the engagement."

He quickly exited. Ginny flung up her hands, screamed, and left. Parvati was left alone, staring at the doors. At last, she sighed. "This place should be a soap opera. Now, that's a score for Alex… where's that notebook?"

***

Harry stared at the young woman, still flabbergasted. She smiled at him again. "Speechless, non? Perhaps we should talk inside. Come into my parlor."

She turned and walked inside, every part of her moving fluidly and gracefully, as smooth as the hair that fluttered behind her. Harry finally got his wits about him and followed quickly.

The inside of the house was left mysteriously shadowed. All the windows he saw were severely covered with heavy velvet drapes that hid all the light from outside. Instead, the room was lit with candles, he noted. Old-fashioned candles, the ones that were allowed to drip wax for effect. His feet echoed loudly on the marble of the large entrance hall, then sunk silently into the thick carpet of the hallway as she lead him to what he supposed was her parlor.

Behind a heavy oak door was a small, round room. Candles formed a circle on the wall, set in iron sconces. They were all black. A swirling crystal ball stood on the small table between two dark velvet armchairs. A small fire burned in the grate, and Harry was taken back to Professor Trelawney's classroom with the heavy, exotic and provocative smell. Over it all, he detected an overtone of something bright, cheery, and floral, but it didn't seem to suit at all.

"Nice place," he remarked.

She slunk down into a chair. "Why sank you. Do sit down, Monsieur Potter."

Harry sat. "You knew I was coming," he stated.

"Mais oui. Ze 'ouse-elves, zey told me. I 'ave ze entry spelled."

"Why did you let me in?" he asked. "You haven't been seen in the real world for years, and then you calmly open your door to a foreign stranger?"

She smiled coyly. "But you are no stranger, Monsieur. You saved my life once before, did you not? It is a debt. I consider it paid if I cooperate wis you."

Harry shook his head to clear it-why wouldn't the fumes just go away?-and asked, "Oh, so you will tell me what you've been doing here?"

"Why, living a peaceful, quiet life, away from ze 'ectic world."

"I thought you said you would cooperate," he sighed.

"Ah, and I am. I 'ave let you into my 'ome, and offered you a place to sit. I am razer… lonely, you know."

There was a clear invitation in her eyes. Harry ignored it. Despite the fact that this was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, something was very wrong here. "I'm sure you'd have plenty of company if you ventured out once in a while."

"I 'ave sensitive skin," she said calmly, raising her milk-white hand to gesture. "I burn easily."

He would have laughed at the absurdity of it all, but couldn't manage more than a small smile. "Oh, so that explains your hermit ways. What about your sister?"

Startled at the quick change in direction, Gabrielle's eyes fluttered with a ray of panic. "My sister is sick, is she not? I 'aven't 'eard to ze contrary. She doesn't matter anyway." This last she said firmly, as though she was defending herself.

"I see. And your mother?"

"I 'ave no mozer. Violette Charlotte Delacour is no more," she said.

"Do you know what happened to her?"

"Non," she said simply.

"So, you have no family?" he prodded, wanting a drink of water desperately.

"None," she confirmed. "Zey would not matter even if I did. I go my own way."

"So… you are just an innocent young woman with a taste for the arcane in decorating living on her own with no worries."

She smiled and shrugged lightly. "Zis is 'ow it looks, non?"

He smirked. "I never settle for how it looks, mademoiselle."

Her smile was slow and warmed him uncomfortably from his head down to his toes. "Zen zis shall be fun. Let us see 'oo wins in ze end."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Awfully confident, aren't you?"

"Quite," she replied calmly, crossing her legs, "So, you wish to question me, non?"

"I believe we have already ascertained that."

"Zen per'aps you should begin ze process, zen. Sitting and staring at me is 'ardly ze way most investigators being zeir interrogations, I believe."

Harry somehow managed to keep from blushing, and pretended he hadn't been doing just that. "Indeed? I believe that the investigator determines the course these investigations take."

"If we continue in zis vein for too much longer, you'll nevair leave." Gabrielle flashed a sultry grin. "I fear for my safety."

Harry fought against warring emotions to walk up and slap her, and stammering out a denial of her insinuations. "Very well, then. You have, of course, heard of the new rash of Dark activity in the Paris area, I assume?"

"Naturally. Very distressing, all of it. I assume zat's why you're 'ere."

"Are you aware of the exact nature these activities?"

"I 'ave 'eard rumors, yes. Muggle terrorism, illegal potions sales 'ave gone up, experimentations regarding spells of immortality, several disappearances of prolific public personages…"

"Lots of 'p's' there," Harry commented absently.

"Pardon?"

"Nothing. Office habit." Harry made a mental note to seriously harm Alex and Parvati for getting him into the habit of commenting on everything he heard, regardless of significance. Damn you both. If I end up looking like a total idiot in front of this woman, I swear…

"Continue, please," he prompted.

Gabrielle raised an eyebrow, and went on. "As I was saying, disappearances of several well known wizards, strange absences of French Ministry wizards 'oo claim to remember nosing of where zey were, a few deasz of young Muggles and a good population of animals, and not just strays, and an increased traffic in migration into ze country of people 'oo were once involved wis ze Dark Arts 'oo zen promptly seem to disappear once inside Paris."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You seem to know an awful lot about these activities, especially given that they are supposed to be confidential and only released to the public under headings of being careful at night for younger wizards. Since you already know so much, you must be aware of the fact that you are a prime suspect in this case."

The young woman smiled innocently. "Am I?"

"Yes." Harry crossed his arms. "And, frankly, given the depth of your knowledge regarding this subject, you have convinced me that those suspicions are very well founded."

Gabrielle's smile grew. "But you cannot prove anysing, can you?"

Harry frowned, wishing she wasn't emanating such a seductive vibe. It was interfering with his ability to think… not that he much minded, which was almost worse. He decided it would be best to end this before he was completely humiliated. He stood, and bowed slightly to Gabrielle. "Thank you for your time, Mademoiselle. If you have no problems, I would like to speak with you again on this subject at a later date, when I have more information."

Gabrielle nodded, pulling herself up with infinite grace. "Certainly, Monsieur Potter. I will look forward to it. My doors are always open."

Harry nodded his thanks, and quickly left before things could deteriorate even more.

Gabrielle stared after him for several minutes until she was certain he was gone. Then she turned, and her demeanor changed immediately from sultry seductress to quiet young woman. "Well?" she asked quietly. "What did you sink?"

A shadowy figure faded into the room. One of the candles flickered. The strong, sensual smell rose as did the flames of the fire. He walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. With a small sigh, Gabrielle closed her eyes and leaned back against him, letting her head fall back, simply it was because that was what was expected of her. He landed a soft, cool kiss on her neck. "Not bad, ma chere. Not bad at all."

She had to remember to stay calm, though one small fist was clenched in the red slinky material of her dress. She didn't say anything because he hadn't asked for comment and she had long learned not to give what wasn't asked.

"You wore your own perfume again," he said, his hand in the middle of running through her loose curls. He tugged quite hard on one of them, hard enough to bring tears to her eyes. She didn't say anything, and he chuckled. "You need to stop doing that. It doesn't at all suit your image."

"I… forgot," she said softly, eyes still closed. "Please forgive me."

"Hmmm," he said. His voice was low, a rumble in his chest, deceptively calm. "Maybe. Don't do it again."

Gabrielle allowed herself the smallest of sighs. As it was she had had to bribe one of the house-elves to go to the market and purchase it. She would have to hide it. For a better day, she firmly believed. A day she would no longer have to be… what she was forced into being now. "I won't," she said, as was expected of her. "Of course I won't."

"Good. You know it could interfere with the powder." The fire flashed an unhealthy color of red. "You'll need to feed it again soon."

Gabrielle sighed. "Oui," she said. "I would 'ave done it before, but it gives me ze 'eadache."

He brushed her cheek with his fingers. "Miss Parkinson is nearly finished working out the antidote. I'm sorry that you'll have to put up with the headaches for just a little longer, precious."

"Merci," she said simply into the dark, luxurious carpet.

"But of course. I live to take care of you, lovely one." His arms were loose around her waist, resting coolly across her stomach. She felt his long, elegant fingers through the thin fabric and reminded herself not to shiver. There was enough she had to give him because she had no choice. This, at least, was as close to her as he got. As long as she was cool and impassive, he would grow bored with her. He had to grow bored with her.

She fought back tears, wondering how she had been stupid enough to end up here. She had learned along with her other lessons, that tears, just like perfume made from sweetpeas and tulips, were not part of this new image either. She only cried when she was commanded. Like a puppy, she thought, with an inward sigh. A puppy doing tricks for her master. The tricks that kept her, and everything she held dear alive.

"Oui," she murmured. "You do."

He smiled faintly, just visible from the corners of her eyes as he moved behind her, arms encircling here loosely, not threatening, but insinuating… hinting… warning…

"About the Potter fellow," he said quietly. "Do you think you can keep him from learning anything useful?"

She tried not to tense under his hands. "I will do what I can. 'Owever, remember zat so far, all of 'is information 'as come from 'is Ministry. I cannot block information stemming from ze source."

"Indeed." There was a pause. "They seem to be very well informed. We only moved you a few days ago, and yet they already know you are staying here. Do you know if they know about your last residence?"

"I sink zey do not. Monsieur Potter gave no indication zat 'e thought it might still be in use." Gabrielle lowered her eyes a bit more. "I sink we are still safe in zat respect."

"Very good." The hands around her waist slipped away, leaving cold handprints in her skin in their wake. "Then continue with what you are doing. If we keep him from learning anything that his Ministry can't discover for him, all the better. I can make certain that things on that end do not progress too much. You continue watching Potter. Make sure he learns nothing more that we do not want him to."

Gabrielle didn't look up. She could only hear his steps across the room as he left. Her heartbeat began to slow as relief that he was leaving descended.

The footsteps stopped. After a moment, he spoke, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "After all, we wouldn't want him to get hurt. You understand how terrible that would be on his friends and family."

He left, but Gabrielle was no longer relaxed. She shook, hands clinging to the couch as she tried to not slide to the ground in fear and despair.

But she kept the tears at bay. For that much, she was grateful to him.

***

Harry had a distinctive feeling he was missing something as he walked through the lush gardens. Before he knew what he was about, he was outside the closed gates. He looked through the wrought iron bars, sighed, and, muttering the spell to speed his walking, began his trek across the countryside towards the nearest train station.

He found he enjoyed the walk in the sunshine. The smell of the grass drying in the sunlight was the last remaining tang of summer in the air. He found that a wisp of the heavy, sensual perfume from Gabrielle's house was clinging to his skin and clothes, though the clean smell of the early autumn air and the small, playful breeze were doing their best to dispel it. He thought he would have to perhaps be rid of this clothing. He had a feeling the fragrance would follow him wherever he went unless he did. He didn't want to think about Gabrielle Delacour at all.

He thought about her anyway, of course. As he got up onto the train platform and sat on a bench to wait for the next train, which wouldn't arrive for ten minutes, he tried to organize his thoughts.

Beautiful. Oh yes, very beautiful. She was, in fact, the kind of woman most men would die for. But there was something about her that didn't fit. Maybe that fact that, despite her prefect provocative beauty, the hooded eyes were innocent. Maybe it was the flash of raw, primal fear when he had brought up her comatose sister. Or maybe it was the thin, cheerful smell of summer flowers that wound around her despite the strong, overbearing scent which suited her and her house quite well. Or maybe it was the spectacular gardens, looking carefully tended with loving human hands-gardens developed rather a feeling if one left magic to do the work, and that feeling was decidedly missing here. Something, he thought. Something.

If only he could figure out what it was.

***

"You did what?"

"I suggested that perhaps politics via floo wasn't the most effective way to work through diplomatic relations, and that perhaps we should discuss the terms over dinner sometime."

"And what did he say, exactly?"

"He thought it was a fabulous idea."

Parvati crossed her arms. "And?"

"And what?"

"You're not telling me everything. He thought it was a good idea, and…?"

"And he'd heard I had an older sister and perhaps I should invite her, too, so that Li had someone to talk to while we went over the fine print."

Parvati sank into her chair. "Alex, when are you going to acknowledge that you are making up this entire relationship?"

"When you acknowledge that I am not making it up."

"One of these days I'll just put in a request to steal your job. You know they'll let me-at least I won't cause major diplomatic incidents!"

Alex made a face, and tossed his hair. "But you don't have any of this to offer. It's quite convenient. You may have the body, but I've got the looks, and these are a lot more effective on both sexes and you know it."

Parvati looked as if she were preparing to lunge forward and severely harm him when Lavender peeked in. "Parvati? Minister Malfoy needs to see you right away. He says it's urgent that you come to his office right away, and to bring a notebook or something like that."

Parvati dropped her hands, and turned to leave. "Thank God!"

"Parvati!" Alex yelled. "Get back in here, you are my secretary and you need to clear my schedule for this dinner!"

"Set up your own date for a change!" she yelled back, before closing the door and following Lavender down the halls to Draco's office.

Only halfway there, she heard the yelling. "Am I to be scorekeeper then?" she asked Lavender with a wince.

"Care for some earplugs?" Lavender asked placidly. "I'm just the friendly neighborhood coffee girl."

"You're supposed to be Hermione's secretary," Parvati said crossly as the volume of the yelling increased. Outside the doors, they heard a loud crash. "Damn it, I'll bet that vase was expensive."

"Mrs. Weasley is far too organized to need a secretary," Lavender pointed out. "Besides, I'm good at making coffee."

Parvati laughed. "Put it in an unbreakable cup, then."

Lavender opened the door and shooed her in. "Ginny broke them all already."

Parvati, with a sigh, closed the doors behind her back and ducked a tossed bagel and an "oh, it's just Parvati." She sighed, pulled out her notebook and flipped to the appropriate page. Doodling a cheerful little face absently in the corner, she tried not to listen as Ginny and Draco fought, again.

"Damn it, Draco, you touch me one more time, and I swear I'll-"

"You can jump on me and do things that would make Parvati blush later," Draco said, trying to sound reasonable.

"Nothing much conventional makes me blush," Parvati muttered, checking yet again under Draco's name.

He grinned wolfishly. "That's the idea."

Ginny hissed out her frustration. "Why the hell is she here anyway?"

"To make sure you don't kill me?" Draco suggested, deftly disarming her of her cup of coffee and downing it.

"To report to the betting pool," Parvati said vacantly, adding a silly hat with a feather to the funny face. "Or else they argue and nothing ever gets done. Kind of like in this office."

"Things do too get done in this office," Ginny shouted.

"Juvenile as that is, she has a point. I asked her to arrange a press conference for me."

"Then I attacked you," Ginny said.

Parvati cocked an eyebrow and checked under Draco's name again. "You walked right into that one, Virginia."

"Damn it," Ginny seethed.

"One has to wonder why you put up with her, Minister," Parvati said sweetly.

Ginny turned on her. "I thought you were on my side! Damned Gryffindor excuse for loyalty."

"We're not Hufflepuffs," Parvati pointed out. "Besides, I'm not exactly against you. I'm just on the winning side."

Draco flashed her a grin. "You might need a raise."

"And a transfer?" Parvati asked hopefully.

"Afraid not," Draco replied. Snagging a blushing Ginny around the waist he pulled him to her despite her squawk of protest. "But perhaps a raise."

Ginny tensed and tried to control her heightening color. It didn't seem to be working as the damned man was getting to her. "Let me go," she squirmed. "Come on, Draco, Parvati's here."

Draco's mouth hovered an inch from her ear. "Oh, and if she wasn't?" he whispered. "Is this progress, my dear? Goodness, better start the press conferences to confirm the relationship."

Ginny was having a hard time breathing, but finally managed to say, "There are a few inherent problems with our relationship."

Draco chuckled. "Oh? Such as?"

"Such as, it doesn't exist." With that, she got loose of him and flounced out.

Parvati raised a brow and looked at the rather put out Minister of Magic. "I'm afraid she got that one." Making one last check in her notebook, she smiled angelically. "May I go back to work preventing international disaster now?"

"Damn it."