DISCLAIMER: All but the plot belong to J.K. Rowling and company, except for Wonderwall, a song that belongs to Oasis.
Backbeat the word was on the street
That the fire in your heart is out
I'm sure you've heard it all before
But you never really had a doubt
I don't believe that anybody feels
The way I do about you now
"Come on in. My next appointment is always late and not for another hour anyhow." Ginny greeted brightly, letting Hermione in. It was a large and spacious townhouse, in sleek metallic colors and lines and Ginny's high heels clicked on the black marble floor.
"This is your office?" Hermione asked as Ginny led her to the back, where, to Hermione's surprise, a trendier version of the Burrow's warm and inviting kitchen awaited them.
"Well, it's directly upstairs, behind the double glass doors. I shut all the other doors and lock them when I have clients over. I work much better when I can just go and fetch myself a cup of tea on a whim." Ginny bustled about the kitchen in a tight black satin skirt and a lacy bright pink camisole.
"Business attire?" Hermione continued reluctantly. Ginny laughed, a warm laugh she had not used in London for some time.
"Oh, no. Heavens no. I have a blouse to go over this." She motioned to the camisole. "But I do look the part of a ruthless public relations woman, eh?"
Hermione laughed and Ginny cocked her head to one side. "Funny, you're the only one who has gotten that joke in the years I've used it." Ginny smiled. "Tea?"
Hermione nodded and Ginny opened a cabinet to begin to put the kettle on.
"Dyed your hair, huh?" Hermione asked after a moment of silence passed.
"Uh-huh. I found a shade of red a slight bit more flattering to my skin tone. Couldn't let my Weasley roots completely let go, could I? I saw my future. Flaming red just didn't have to be my only option." Ginny laughed again, and her cheeks colored, true to Weasley fashion. "How's life with the Ministry?"
"Oh, good. Not as profitable as the party business, I'm sure." Hermione answered, growing more comfortable with the setting by the second.
A back stairwell that ended in the kitchen was suddenly lit by the presence of a chiseled, shirtless man. He murmured something in Italian and Ginny answered him. He put on the shirt he had in his hands, told her in English he'd fetch his coat and that he'd be seeing her around.
"Who was that?" Hermione hated asking so many questions she felt she should know the answers to.
"Giuseppe, I think." Ginny shrugged and smiled, trying to play it off to her old friend. She turned and put the kettle down on the table. "So, why'd you venture off from the wonderful world of the Ministry?"
Hermione giggled. "Well, the article in Wizards' Business Weekly sparked my attention and I realized I didn't even know where you lived. Sent an owl, and here we are." Hermione looked around, noticed the Wedgwood teacup, and was a bit startled. "How do you afford all of this?"
"Oh, Yvon." Ginny laughed affectionately. "He likes it that I amuse myself with something."
Hermione nodded. "He doesn't mind about—"
She motioned to where Giuseppe had just exited.
Ginny shook her head. "He's not a hypocrite."
Hermione swallowed. It was good tea. "So this has happened before?" Nod. "Do you think you'll get married?"
Ginny nearly spit out her tea. "Married? Yvon? He's been there, done that. Several times…I think he's still married, actually."
Hermione nodded, still not comprehending. "How long have you two been—"?
"Together?" Ginny finished, and Hermione nodded again. Her neck was starting to hurt. "Oh, I don't know…five years?"
"Have you ever wanted to get married?" Her next question made Ginny laugh.
"No."
Before Hermione could ask another question, there was a knock at the front door. Ginny reached for her wand and summoned her blouse, buttoning it and tucking it in hurriedly. "Stick around or let yourself out if you want."
Leticia Castillo was a young, pretty and leggy brunette with more curves than brains. Now, she sat giggling in Ginny's office as Ginny burst open the curtains, letting the sun in.
"He's just—well, let's just say there's more celebrating to do." Leticia giggled. "I just wanted to discuss one more thing with you before I just let it go, you know?"
"Well, I wanted to show you the final guest list, as today was the last day to RSVP." Ginny explained as she fetched the clipboard with the five sheets of parchment delicately embossed with high profile and trendy names. Leticia waved her away.
"All of that's technical. You can handle it." Leticia giggled again, and pulled, from her frosted clear shopping bag a pink box with a black satin bow. "I bought you a little something I think would best go with the lingerie theme. But of course you'll be separated from the wait staff."
"But of course." Ginny said with a smirk.
"It's just a little gift. I've got to show off the best woman there." Leticia looked very eager. "Well, open it, Ginny-girl!"
Ginny delicately undid the bow and lifted the lid off of the box. Inside, nestled in what must have been a hundred Sickles worth of silk was a thin piece of lingerie that could barely be classified as even that. A nude silk camisole with wine colored ivy lacing across the bust and leading up to the thin wine ribbon straps. Ginny gingerly removed it from the box, only to reveal a wine chiffon ruffled miniskirt. She raised her eyebrows. "Leticia, this isn't necessary."
"Oh, I know, but I wanted to splurge." Leticia's eyes rang with something antiquated and yet newborn. Ginny feared that it was something her own eyes often shone with. "Well, that'll be it then. See you tonight."
And with that, Leticia flounced out of Ginny's office.
Moments later, Hermione made her way up to Ginny's office and raised her eyebrows. "Huh. Feels a little sad, doesn't it?"
"Huh?" Ginny asked, crossing to her closet.
"That someone that rich, that pretty, that young—is so stupid." Hermione said sadly.
"The rich are getting lazier and lazier. They micromanage their empires to the nth degree, but when it comes to who is going to inherit that empire, they don't know what to do. Their children will never understand the sweat and tears that went into what's rubbing their asses smooth. When I read about Zabini and Malfoy's struggle, I was incredibly happy. They finally knew what it was to work for something, and they're not pissing it away." Ginny pulled up a pair of high heels in burgundy with lace straps. "What are you doing tonight?"
"Well, Ron's out of town on business, so I thought Harry and I could have dinner." Hermione answered and Ginny pursed her lips. "He's worked too hard, you know?"
"Well, I have an invitation for two if you want it." Ginny said finally on an exhale. "It'll be wild, I'm sure."
Hermione smiled. "Okay." Hermione took the lacy invitation that Ginny had put on the table. ROBELESS AND RACY: LET'S GET LACY.
"I'll see you tonight, then, maybe?"
Ginny shrugged. "I get busy during these things. You'd be surprised."
Draco walked in and checked his robe and cloak at a beribboned red counter and the curvaceous blond behind the counter dressed in black lace and red ribbons, which seemed to be the theme, winked and handed him a red ticket.
He nodded and pulled aside the ruffled black lace curtain to reveal an open two-story space where go-go dancers in the black lace and red ribbon lingerie uniform danced on platforms and waitresses, even less practically dressed, walked around with hors d'oeuvres on black marble trays, and bartenders serving swirling mixtures to scantily clad guests.
Draco noticed Blaise sitting at the center of a large crowd with a young, doe-eyed brunette, most likely the guest of honor herself. He rolled his eyes and picked up a champagne flute off of a tray as he passed the balcony's railing and headed down the stairs.
The tables downstairs seemed to offer the older and more mature selection of his set, and even featured some old schoolmates. Draco's eye rolled right over some old dorm mates and he kept walking, wondering what he was doing there.
The answer came as he gently collided with Ginny Weasley, splashing champagne down her top.
"Christ, Malfoy, you thank you'd be used to this sort of thing." She said huskily, brushing past him to discreetly shake the liquid out of her top before it absorbed and became sticky.
"Sorry, Weasley." He muttered, shielding his eyes and whipping a handkerchief out of his pocket. "Need any help?"
"NO!" She snapped, but she looked up to see his back turned and his hand offering a handkerchief. "Some lady's finally made a gentleman out of you, eh?" She took it gently and patted her cleavage, which now glistened with the sparkle of the champagne. "Oh, I suppose it will have to do."
Ginny tapped his shoulder and he turned. "What are you doing here?"
"Blaise dragged me out." Draco muttered and Ginny raised one eyebrow.
He hadn't yet taken his handkerchief back, primarily because she hadn't offered it to him. He noticed it now, suddenly uncomfortable being so close to her and Draco reached for it, crumpled up and damp and slyly, it nearly dropped from Ginny's hand and his eyes followed it as the damp satin flowed upwards, over her barely clothed midriff, and over her ample bust, spending a little too much time there, until she finally raised it and pushed some space between them, dangling it out. Draco tore his eyes away from her chest and took a look at her eyes, slightly confused.
"Here." She said and Draco, not taking his eyes off of hers, reached for it and actually got it this time.
The music stopped playing for just a second, and in that second, Ginny made Draco an offer that the typically cold businessman couldn't refuse. This deal was too intriguing, and he had little to lose.
"Wanna catch up?"
The music began again and Draco nodded. Ginny whisked the champagne flute out of his free hand and he awkwardly reached for her hand when it was at his hand's level, but she wrangled it loose. They made their way up the packed stairs and the upstairs had gotten darker, to create more ambience. Less people milled about and they stopped only briefly when Harry Potter and Hermione Granger brushed past.
Draco turned away instantly, not knowing exactly what he was doing with Ginny, but he sure as hell knew he didn't want to be caught doing it by Potter.
"Ginny!" Hermione exclaimed eagerly. "This is some party."
"Hermione!" Ginny replied brightly, if not a tad nervously. Darkly, she added, "Harry. Well! There'll be dinner later, and probably more, I can't remember. They all blend together eventually."
Draco raised his eyebrows quickly and Ginny hurriedly pushed him up the rest of the way. A quilted red silk door was in their path and Ginny pushed it open and pulled her top over her head.
Draco's eyes widened.
"Lock the door." She commanded, and Draco locked it as an excuse to tear his eyes away.
What the fuck was going on? "I didn't know that this was what you meant by, um…catching up."
"Don't be naïve, Malfoy. You're a businessman, and so am I." Draco wanted to cheekily say she was no man, but she had balls. "Turn around."
Draco followed her command for lack of better thing to do. Her face was blank, and something about it was just so stirring he was stunned.
So he got witty. Nervously, but he did get there. "I'm not an expert on these things—"
"Liar." She interrupted flatly.
"But aren't you supposed to be wearing a bra?"
She chuckled, and Draco figured it out, why her face had been so intriguing. It had had no emotion. "You know, most men don't see me like this when they've gotten this far."
"What, smiling?" He growled, and Ginny laughed.
"You're a funny one."
"Says the woman who tempted a family rival up for a chat only to expose her breasts." Draco muttered, turning away.
"I think whoever taught you to be a gentleman took it a step too far." Ginny whispered, her face becoming cold again and she moved towards him, pressing her body against his at the first chance, pushing him against the door. "They are nice breasts, though, aren't they?"
Draco shrugged and Ginny's face contorted for a minute and then she laughed. "I see where this is going. You want to rile me up. Creative. Far more creative than the other dumb fucks I've dragged in here."
"Is that what this is about, then? You expected a dumb fuck?" Draco began to color a bit. He didn't know if he was offended. "I'm not my father, Ginny."
"Oh, I know that." Ginny's voice was lower now. "Do you think I would've dragged your father's scum up here? You're not the Malfoy of yesteryear, but I knew you in Hogwarts and I know you now. You're just a man, and a man enjoys the quick intrigue. You do a couple of the right moves, make a couple of the right sounds and right there, you've got a man's mess inside of you. They don't look at your face, Malfoy, so that makes you strange."
She tore away from him with a lingering air of disgust and frustration floating about her. Her chest jiggled just slightly and Draco's eyes couldn't help but follow their perfect shape and their gorgeous coloring. She crossed her legs in irritation and her eyes met where his were trailing and she smirked.
"Ah, the man in you has returned, Malfoy, so are we going to fuck or not?" Ginny snapped, irritated that he was getting a rise out of her. She now understood he wasn't trying, which made it worse. She slyly uncrossed her legs, frowning, and his eyes grew large.
"No panties." He commented after a moment, very softly.
"Do I seem like the kind of woman who would bother with panties?" Ginny growled, the last straw finally hitting the camel's back. Ginny flew across the room, pressing her body against his earnestly and she grabbed his hand. It burned with whatever reason there was for his integrity, and Ginny roughly shoved it up her skirt, pushing it as high up her thigh as she thought would be necessary to encourage him.
Draco didn't move his hand, and it occurred to Ginny that it was odd that her thighs were heating up. Why was he teasing? God, it was her job to tease. His other hand ran down her smooth back, finally resting chivalrously on the small. Ginny was enraged! What game was he playing?
She pulled away, even though her thigh and the small of her back stung with anticipation. Angrily, Ginny marched across the room, her cheeks pink with Weasley rage. She pulled on her top, creating flyways in her smooth hair. By now it all began to register with Draco, and he was beginning to get amused.
"Upset, Weasley? That I won't play your game?" Draco teased as she adjusted her shoes. He pulled up a chair.
"You're a chauvinistic asshole, Malfoy. You don't want to give up the control you think you men are supposed to have during sex." Ginny muttered, knowing it was bullshit.
"I'm sorry that you get off on having control over your lovers, but you made the wrong choice this time." Draco defended casually. He had forgotten how fun it was to see someone squirm under pressure, especially someone like Ginny Weasley, who obviously wasn't used to losing.
"I bet you're wondering why I like it like this. Well, Malfoy, I'll never tell you everything, but let's face it, Yhe metrosexual man is a joke, Malfoy. They don't even look to see if I really am enjoying it. What can I say? It amuses me that I'm just another cold fuck to these assholes." Ginny spat, and she rushed towards the door to unlock it.
"So it scares you to get hot, doesn't it?" Draco whispered, and Ginny stopped dead in her tracks, spinning on her stilettos.
She opened her mouth to yell at him, and Blaise's voice interrupted both of their trains of thought.
"Draco Malfoy? Draco Malfoy, show your face, you dumb fuck!"
Draco stood and offered her his arm and forcefully, she took it, nearly yanking it out of its socket.
The pair emerged and made their way down the now emptied wide stairwell. Blaise's voice was louder, presumably by magic, and he grinned from the bar. Leticia sat in his lap.
"Draco Malfoy and Ginny Weasley, I'll be needing you too! Leticia here has just signed a multi-million dollar contract and has signed over the Firebolt Company and all of its contracts to the Diamond Blaze Corporation, and I dunno, that merger just might make me want to throw a party!"
The lights flickered with the standing ovation-style applause, and Draco's arm loosened from hers and slid around Ginny's waist in the dark, the dim flashes of light allowing for barely a glimpse of anyone, and it moved closer to the center, drooping low, just past her hip. He pressed his lips to her ear.
"Good times, good times…"