Disclaimer: No, I don't own it. Duh! Except my new characters; Egnarts Niacigam and "The Man".

Notes: Sorry for taking a week longer than expected, I got loaded with homework. School sucks. I don't know when I'll update next. Probably in about two weeks again. Less if I can make it.

~*~

Ginny rose at precisely 6 o'clock the next morning, her usual point of awakening. However, today she found herself ultimately more exhausted than normal, having been up much of the night pondering or working. In some cases, she did both at once. Its result was only three hours of sleep, and to awake not on the bed, but in the seat before her desk.

Grumbling, she slowly tilted her aching head upwards, in a weak attempt to loosen her neck muscles. Music, muggle music, continued to pour from her small alarm clock, shouting to the entire house. The song that blared was the Last Song, by All American Rejects. It was one of Ginny's most loathed songs, if merely because it seemed so true.

Had always seemed so true, she corrected herself mentally. It certainly didn't anymore. As the chorus blasted once more, she snatched up her wand with sore muscles and threw it at the clock. Upon contact, silence deafened the room.

"Thank Merlin," she murmured, rising slowly from her chair.

Forty five minutes later, Ginny was swinging her hair up in a ponytail as she gulped down a bagel and attempted to slip into her shoes. It didn't appear to be working very well. To make matters worse, a knock suddenly sounded on her door. She spit the remains of her bagel into the garbage can, still trying to pull her hair up as she wandered towards the door.

"Just a minute!" Ginny called, securing her hair band before yanking open the door once more.

"Hello?" She stated, more as a question than anything else. The man before her was one she had never seen before. Ginny had expected someone quite different, and was now slightly embarrassed by her fantasy. She had wanted a morning row to wake her up.

"Ms. Weasley?" The man asked, his voice a pleasant baritone. It fit his well dressed appearance, in elegant grey dress robes with slicked brown hair and cloudy grey eyes.

"Yes? Is there something wrong?" She asked tentatively, quite surprised when he offered a smooth hand. She took it, giving it a slow, easy shake.

"Nothing at all, Ms. Weasley. I actually had a business proposition my employer wishes to put before you."

"Really? Then please, come in. I'm afraid my place is a bit of a disaster, I wasn't expecting company." She invited pleasantly, stepping back to allow the man entry.

He sauntered elegantly within, his sharp gaze giving the small flat a once over before returning to Ginny. He then offered a cool, polite smile, before inclining his head in a small bow. "Please, I have forgotten my manners. Let me introduce myself. I am--" There was a short, extravagant pause, "--Egnarts Niacigam."

The name was clearly supposed to be important, as he waved his hands with delicate flourish upon its twisted pronunciation. However, Ginny's expression remained baffled. She had never heard the title before. "Er, excuse me, Mr. Niacigam, but I don't believe I've heard of you before."

He appeared astounded, his eyes widening in shock. It was almost amusing, to watch the cocky smile fall away, and the style drain from his stance. It took him nearly a full minute to regain his composure. "Egnarts Niacigam, alchemist extraordinaire, you 'ave never heard of me?"

"No." She replied simply, toying with a lock of hair. "But it's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Niacigam. May I ask what you want? I'm in a bit of hurry, work and all."

"Yes, yes; you work in the Department of Mysteries, yes? A lesser branch of it, but most amazing. I must congratulate you."

Ginny's brows rose, startled out of her impatience. "You would know this how?"

"My employer, Ms. Weasley, is a very resourceful man. Now, as I was saying, he has a business proposition for you. However, there's no time for him to come directly to you; current affairs are intruding upon what little time he has. I'm here to request that you meet him tonight for dinner, at six o'clock outside of Hogsmeade. Is that at all possible for you?" His air had become strictly business-like, those his tone remained imbedded with formal arrogance.

She strode towards the door, snatching her purse off the table as she went. "No, I'm very sorry sir, but I don't accept anonymous invitations to dinner. It's policy, in my line of work. Now, if you please; I need to be off, as do you."

Without delay, Ginny proceeded to shove him out of the door, locking it behind her.

~*~

Harry was scowling as he trailed Ginny through the streets of Diagon Alley. He couldn't believe that she had just let that man walk in to her apartments with hardly any question at all. Bloody hell, he could have been a Death Eater! She could have been killed! Harry momentarily forgot that Ginny had been getting herself out of difficult positions since she was fourteen, caught up in his fury and fear over what might have happened to her. He knew very well that if she was hurt on his watch, he would never forgive himself.

Drawing his cloak closer, he pushed aside the rush of doubt to instead mull over the situation at hand. He was supposed to trail Ginny until she reached her office, and to then leave for the quidditch pitch. Ginny would be having lunch with Luna today, so she would be protected there. Then, he need only find her once she left, and follow her for the rest of the evening. There was one, very large, glitch in the plan. He had no idea as to where Ginny worked, and it would require knowing this in order to follow her to her office, or to find her once her workday finished. He could ask Moody, but not until his quidditch practice was done. The only other option was to follow her. This was impossible, as she would most likely be apparating to her job.

Sighing, Harry ducked his head when her eyes scanned the crowd. Peering up at her, he watched as she entered the tiny building just inside of Diagon Alley, The Apparation Station.

He glanced down at his watch, brows rising in surprise. He was supposed to be at quidditch practice in ten minutes, the conversation held inside Ginny's flat had taken longer than he thought. Darting into The Apparation Station, he glanced around, but found no trace of the red head. Harry hurried forward, leaning against the main desk, hair tousling to reveal the faintest edge of his scar. "Excuse me, but has a Ms. Weasley just passed through."

The witch at the desk, appearing incredibly bored, didn't even take the time to glance up as she continued the writing flowery letter resting atop the piles of papers. "I'm sorry sir, but we don't give out information on clients. It's the policy." She pointed deftly to the small card resting on the surface, which stated clearly that no information would be allotted guests.

He sighed, snatching the letter from beneath her nose. "I know, miss, but it's urgent. I believe it's also policy that the only tasks employees are allowed to work on are the ones strictly related to the task. I'm sure your Mr.," he glanced down at the paper, "Edward has nothing to do with apparating."

She sniffed haughtily, but flipped through the pages of her book nonetheless. "A Miss Ginny Weasley passed through apparition station seven precisely two minutes ago, destined for the Ministry of Magic; happy?" She glared up at him, and he released her letter.

"Thank you," Harry replied shortly, stepping away. If she was at the Ministry, then clearly she had no need of further protection. He would visit Moody after practice, and find out a bit more about Ginny's mysterious Ministry work.

~*~

Hermione glared ferociously down at the next line, which was nothing more than an odd jumble of dots. This was so impossible! Why would anyone code a cure as important as this? It made no sense! Of course, the man who was supposed to have created the spell was later considered a madman by some, so perhaps that was not such a leap of imagination.

"Bloody Merlin! I swear, this blasted work must be the hardest bit of logic ever! Madmen and their secrets!" She cried angrily, flipping through the next few pages of the huge tome titled A Guide to Braille, Buenicornian, and Bolivian.

For the second time within twenty-four hours, an unexpected knock rang against her door. "Yes?" Hermione called impatiently, her eyes never leaving the page of the book. The door crept slowly open, the figure outside clearly hesitant to disrupt a frustrated mastermind such as Hermione Granger.

Nevertheless, the door finally came completely open. "Pardon me, Miss Granger, but I was referred to you by a Mr. Weasley. It has been several years, indeed, but I recalled your name upon re-entering Britain. Perhaps you could help me?"

Hermione organized her papers swiftly, talking as she worked. "That depends on what exactly you need help with. I'm rather busy at the moment." She glanced up, blinking as she studied the man who stood before her. He looked clearly uncomfortable; almost like someone in the presence of nobility. Other than though he appeared quite nice. His hair was a shade of medium brown, slightly longer than usual. It reminded her somewhat of Remus Lupin. The man's eyes were a deep, friendly grey, with just a touch of gold flickering near the pupil. He was dressed well, in navy blue robes of fine quality, black boots, trousers, and shirt evident through the openings. All in all, the broad shouldered and studious look fit him well.

He offered her a slow, tentative smile. "Well, you see, I'm having a bit of a problem with some translation. It's some odd form of Threstrian, and he said you'd studied all sorts of Threstrian. I wouldn't have asked, but I'm visiting Britain for a few months and thought I'd give it a shot."

"Yes, I took the time to study plenty of Threstrian. Though you'd really need Rubeus Hagrid to get it perfect, I'm sure I can work it out for you." She offered a small smile in return, before a question occurred. "May I ask which Mr. Weasley referred you? There are several."

"Ah, that would be Ronald Weasley."

~*~

So, what do you think? Don't worry, "The Man" has a point. I wanted an OC. And more…. But that's later. The other guy doesn't, except as sort of a messenger. Some points in this chapter, but nothing vital. A bit more info on Ginny; which you've been asking for. Please, review! Reviews are nice!