Disclaimer: Anything you recognize isn't mine, including the song in here ~ "Sunday Morning After," by Amanda Marshall. It's a cute song, really.
A/N* FINALLY! Man! Thought I'd never finish this with all the stupid school crap and what not. (no school today, so that would be why) ::squeals::
Chapter 5. Unexpected Visitors
"Mmm," Ginny murmured, turning over in her bed. That's odd, she thought dreamily, it's usually still rather dark when I leave for work. A nagging pain at the back of her head throbbed as she struggled to sit up, and with a loud groan of defeat she collapsed back into the sheets.
"I think she's awake," came a voice, so distant and loud it pained her to listen.
"And I was afraid she'd sleep into the next millenia," came yet another, and with an exasperated sigh Ginny burrowed her head beneath her pillow.
"Do you feel the urge to make my headache get worse for some reason?" she demanded, sounding thick and muffled.
"If it was just that simple," said the first voice, and after blinking viciously Ginny saw a fuzzy spot of red she recognized as Ron. "You've been sleeping all afternoon, you know," he said affectionately, rumpling her head. "And it's not quite a headache, but rather a nasty little hangover."
"I don't drink," Ginny objected immediately, and then winced. The embarassing events of last night flooded back to her, though the memories weren't particularly clear. "Much," she amended.
"You should've seen yourself," chuckled Harry, who was watching her with great amusement from the doorway. "Stone drunk, I'm telling you. Jabbering about all sorts of nonsense." There was a pause. "At least, it better have been nonsense," he muttered under his breath.
"Yeah," Ron agreed, winking. "I was a bit shocked at you, Gin. Always thought you were the prim and proper type."
"Well, I guess you don't know that much about me," Ginny joked half-heartedly, though if she'd been in her right mind she would've realized there was more truth to that statement than anyone could've imagined.
From the lapel of his wrinkled shirt Harry drew out a small, bubbling vial. "Hangover potion," he explained cheerily, passing it onto Ron.
Ginny wrinkled her nose delicately. "Well, if I'm recalling your Potions marks correctly, I really don't know if I want to drink this," she said, eyeing the vial with dubious concern. "I'm not exactly in the mood to sprout Flamingo wings right now."
"Snape had it in for me," scowled Harry as Ron let out a laugh. "And anyways, Herm made it."
Holding back a smile, she uncapped the small glass and downed the liquid in one large gulp. "Meh," she said, scrunching up her face in disgust, "It still tastes like your cooking, Ron."
"I happen to like his cooking," Hermione said as she sauntered into Ginny's bedchamber. She planted a loud kiss on her fiancé's cheek, causing Ron's face to flame and Ginny to snort.
"You guys are gross," she shook her head. "And anyways, you have to say that."
"Maybe," Hermione shrugged. "Well listen, Gin, I'm on lunch break right now and I really have to get back to the ministry."
"Lunch?" Ginny's face paled. "Is it like, noon?"
"Like, past noon," Ron informed her coolly. "More like one."
"Merlin!" shrieked Ginny, leaping out of bed only to stumble land on the floor in a tangle of sheets.
"Get back in bed!" Hermione cried, aghast. "You're not to be jumping around after taking the potion."
"I have to get to work," Ginny cried. "Oh gods, he's going to kill me."
There was a long silence as the other three exchanged interested glances. "Um, Ginny?" it was Harry who spoke. "Did you say he?"
Ginny winced. She seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. "Oh, right, didn't tell you."
"Draco Malfoy's back?" Ron's voice boomed out across the room. "I forbid you to work for that ferret, Gin. You go march down and quit your job right this instant."
"How dare—"
"She's not marching anywhere," Hermione snapped. "She is staying here, right in her room."
"If Malfoy's back," Harry began slowly. "Then what you said yesterday. . ."
Nobody heard him. Hermione was occupied with calming a very irate Ron, and Ginny was rubbing her temples in frustration. "Malfoy is no good," Ron bellowed. "He'll. . .he'll hurt you, Ginny."
"I can handle Draco Malfoy, thank you very much," Ginny said, but in a less indignant tone. "And at any rate, I'm not quitting just because you want me to. Just let me apparate really quickly and explain why I can't come in today—"
"You're staying here," Hermione said firmly.
"I'll go," snarled Ron, and both women were duly frightened by the ferocious expression on his face.
"Nobody is going," Hermione declared. "He'll understand, Ginny, or I'll make him understand. Just return tomorrow, I mean, he is the father, right? He can handle his own son."
"Right," Ginny replied weakly, knowing there was no possible way to escape Hermione confrontationally. "I think I'll sleep this headache off, then."
"Atta girl," Hermione beamed, ushering Ron and Harry out of the room. "Let her sleep now."
Feigning tiredness, Ginny slipped back into bed and watched with bated breath as the door clicked shut. One…two…three…four…five…she counted, and then quietly swung her legs out. Clumsily she pointed her wand and locked the door. If she left now, Harry and the rest were sure to never notice her absence, lest they barge in to check on her sleep later. I'm just doing this to stay near Sebastian, Ginny reasoned, determined there was no better explanation as she tightened her messy bathrobe. It was exceedingly inappropriate to appear before Malfoy dressed in such, but given her wardrobe door squeaked incessantly she would have to make do. Hopefully, she could sneak into the room at Malfoy Manor where Pansy had so cordially allowed her to store some possessions.
With a crack, she disapparated.
~*~
"So have you found anything?"
Blaise rolled his eyes, dabbing at his lips with the snake-emblazoned napkin. "It's been a day, Malfoy, what do you expect?"
"Plenty," Draco smirked. "Oh come off it, you know I like my things. . .fast."
"Actually," Blaise replied, "I wouldn't. And rather glad that I don't either. But do tell me, is that the only reason you've invited me to lunch?" He shook his head, mocking a hurt expression. "Honestly, Malfoy, I don't like being used."
"Of course not," it was Draco's turn to roll his eyes. "Just like you didn't mind being used by Fleur Delacour during seventh year."
"That, my friend," Blaise contradicted smugly, "Was not me being used, just simply a part of my anatomy. And I can tell you that the part Fleur was oh-so-kindly 'using' was definitely not objecting."
"Mmm, if you say so," Draco finished off his plate. "You know, I haven't eaten lunch in this room for over half a decade."
"Me neither," agreed Blaise. "Pansy never did invite me over too much. I'm beginning to think she doesn't adore me."
"And I wonder why," Draco said dryly. "It's not like you slept with all four of her best girls within the same week, Zabini, no, not at all."
"Three," Blaise corrected seriously. "I wouldn't touch Millicent Bulstrode with a ten-foot pole."
"Almost forgot about her there," Draco chuckled. He raised his wine glass and arched an eyebrow at Blaise, only to find the dark-haired man staring at something past his shoulder. "What?" he demanded.
"Hullo," came another voice, a younger voice. Draco twisted in his seat to see Sebastian watching Blaise with quiet curiosity from the door.
Blaise glanced uncertainly from Draco to Sebastian. "Um, hello there," he finally said, thrusting out a hand awkwardly.
Sebastian glanced down at his hand and seemingly suppressed a smile, though it could've been a trick of light. He moved closer to the table and shook the elder man's hand with tiny fingers before turning to Draco expectantly. "Father," he addressed.
Draco was silent.
"He's talking to you," Blaise whispered.
There was a pause as the word sunk into Draco's mind, and he looked at his friend helplessly. "Er—yes?" Draco knitted his eyebrows, no doubt fazed by Sebastian's cool golden gaze. He barely dared to believe that this child was just six years old.
"Miss Weasley is not here today," Sebastian said.
"Well, when does she usually come?" Draco asked, surprisingly patient.
"She's here in the morning," Sebastian replied. "When I eat breakfast she's there. But not today."
"Oh," Draco frowned. "This could be a problem. Would you excuse Blaise and I for a moment, Sebastian?"
"Of course, Father," he said quietly and exited the dining room.
Blaise watched him leave with raptured awe.
"This is not good," Draco hissed as soon as the child was out of earshot. "You heard how Argent Enterprises was trying to negotiate a deal with the Chudley Cannons, to be the official supplier of their quidditch equipment?"
"Uh—I think so," Blaise said.
"Well, that meeting's today," Draco cried. "And as the president of Argent, I cannot afford to miss it. I've been working out of office for the past seven years, and there is no possible way I'm staying home during the biggest deal of the millenium."
"Your kid is awfully smart, Draco," Blaise pointed out dubiously. "I don't think he'll die by himself."
"Not mine," Draco reminded. "Gods, I'm starting to think Pansy slept with a goddamn genius. He sure as hell didn't get his brains from her."
Blaise snickered. "Look, I'd offer to watch the kid but unfortunately, not only am I atrocious with all little things I've got the nastiest murder case to clean up after."
"Oh right," Draco rolled his eyes. "Blaise fucking Zabini, wizarding detective."
Blaise grinned broadly. "Proud of it, mate."
"I guess I could summon Weasley here," Draco said slowly. "Send an owl to her or whatnot."
"Good plan," agreed Blaise.
"Yeah," Draco mused. "That's what I'll do. Let me fetch a quill and—"
He was cut off most abruptly as something, or someone, landed flatly on the plate before him and tumbled into his lap, the impact sending both of them flying backwards as the chair's legs gave way. "What the fuck," Draco yelled as he landed hard on his bottom, letting out a strangled yelp when his assailant knocked him flat on his back.
Blinking a few times, Draco adjusted his eyes to his surroundings. Everything was alarmingly red, and for a moment he was afraid he'd hit his head hard enough to inflict fatal damage. Then he realized his entire face was enshrouded in a curtain or red. . .hair. "Sorry," an utterly feminine voice murmured faintly as the weight disappeared from his chest, and so did the hair from his eyes.
"Weasley?" Draco said disbelievingly, startling the redhead and causing her to land in a blubbering heap in between his legs.
"It must have been the potion," she cried nonsensically. "Hermione didn't tell me. . .oh my gods this is so embarassing I'm so sorry I really didn't—"
"Oh do shut up," he grumbled, realizing with disgust that her landing had spilled much of his wine all over his once-pristine shirt. She snapped her mouth closed immediately, staring at him with watery brown eyes and looking both apologetic and humiliated. He yanked a napkin from the mess in which he was sitting and dabbed furiously in a futile attempt to salvage the clothes.
"That's only going to make it worse," Ginny said, grabbing the napkin from him and pulling out her wand. "There," she whispered as the stain disappeared wholly from his shirt. "Nothing a little magic can't fix."
It dawned on her then that they were in a very promiscuous position, and that she was dressed in bedclothes—a worn bathrobe hanging very much open in fact. Draco, however, was absolutely oblivious as he tugged at his clothes, apparently more concerned with his state of dress than hers.
"Ahem," someone cleared his throat, and both Ginny and Draco glanced up to see Blaise smirking from his perch on the table.
"Well look what the cat dragged in," Draco said sarcastically, getting to his feet and flicking a piece of cheese off his pants. "Governess Weasley. You do realize you're incredibly late?"
"Virginia Weasley," Blaise said with a nod. "Haven't seen you in a while." He flicked his eyes over her tabby robe and stifled a snort.
"Zabini," she acknowledged stiffly.
"I see nothing's changed much," he remarked with the same snide contempt she'd heard from Draco so many times.
"I agree," she retorted, her chocolate eyes darkening and flashing with anger. "You're the same dickless prick."
Blaise raised both eyebrows at Draco. "Well, well, well," he clucked his tongue. "Honestly, Malfoy, you should pay your governess a bit more. She doesn't even have enough clothes to change from sleepwear to daily wear."
"Yeah, well, she'd be used to that," Draco said darkly, and Blaise smiled approvingly. "What the hell was that, Weasley?"
Ginny tried to smooth her hair, which she was sure was now sticking out in all sorts of odd directions, and fastened her bathrobe again. "Um, I had a little trouble waking up, and I took this potion that had. . .side effects. Gave me a tad trouble apparating," she explained hastily.
"The only potion that gives people trouble apparating is the. . ." Draco trailed off, and his gray eyes widened in amusement. "Got drunk, did we?"
"Honestly," Blaise grinned. "You should screen your help better."
"Weasley," Draco bellowed. "You're fired."
Ginny's jaw went slack and her face reddened. "But—that's—you can't do that!" She cried indignantly.
Draco snorted. "I just did. Now listen, why don't you—"
"No," she interrupted fiercely. "You listen. I am the best thing that has ever happened to Sebastian, and you damn well know it. Just because you don't like my family doesn't give you any right to fire me. There are a lot of things you don't know, Draco Malfoy, and I bet if you did you'd think twice about letting me go." She exhaled loudly, knowing her rant hadn't much sense to it but not caring too much.
Draco glanced at Blaise, and then back at Ginny. "Well that's no way to make your argument," he said smoothly.
"Just give me one month," Ginny pleaded. "I can prove to you I'm a very well qualified carer for Sebastian and if you're still not satisfied then by all means, fire me. But let me prove my worth first."
She waited with bated breath as Draco stared at her, his eyes steely and impassive. "Fine," he finally said. "One month."
"You won't regret it," Ginny promised, letting out a sigh.
He narrowed his eyes. "I better not," he replied coldly. "As for now, I've got a meeting and I need you to take care of Sebastian."
She hesitated. "But," Ginny protested, thinking of Hermione. "I'm not supposed to leave my apartment and—"
"What are you, nine?" Draco snapped. "I don't care, take him back to whatever dump you live in. He's your responsibility now. I, for one, am going to get another set of robes for my meeting. Get information, Zabini."
"Will do," Blaise replied as Draco disapparated. He directed his sneer towards Ginny. "Well, I have a life too," he commented with a wink and also disapparated.
Ginny glanced down at her feet and then at the scattered furniture lying all around the once-elegant room.
Stupid Slytherins.
~*~
"Oof!" Ginny cried as she landed clumsily in her living room, one arm wrapped around Sebastian.
"Ginny!" she heard Harry cry.
"Sorry," she said sheepishly. "I had to go see Malfoy."
"Uh," was his flabbergasted response.
Pulling her hair back, she met his concerned gaze guiltily and began to explain her whereabouts when she noticed they weren't the only people in the room. Sitting placidly on her couch was an annoyingly beautiful woman, tall, slim, and elegant, with a wave of glistening golden hair that fell neatly to her shoulders and a strangely intense dislike in her pretty blue eyes.
"You're Ginny," the woman sniffed.
Ginny glanced at Harry, who promptly looked away. "Um, yeah, I am. And who are you?"
"I'm the oth—" she began to reply haughtily, but Harry cut her off.
"Ginny, this is Franny—er, Fran Price," Harry said nervously. "We, uh, we work together. At the ministry."
For an inexplicable reason, Ginny suspected there was more to Fran Price than Harry let on, but she let the matter go. They both, after all, did have their secrets. "Nice to meet you," Ginny said, and though she valiantly tried to inflict warmth in her voice, she somehow ended up rivaling Malfoy in demeanor.
"Right," Fran replied snottily, and Ginny resisted the urge to slap her perfect face.
"Anyways," Harry hastened, running his fingers through his messy shock of hair, "Fran was just leaving."
"It's noisy," someone said, and everyone turned to see a sleepy girl of about six rubbing her eyes as she stumbled into the room. "Oh," she said, adjusting to the light. "Hullo Fran."
Ginny frowned, Harry reddened, Sebastian stared curiously, and Fran smiled. "Hello Evie," she said in a soft voice.
Evie turned to Sebastian with equal interest, her eyes bright as she inspected him. She had her mother's eyes, dark and luminous, framed with inky black lashes but flecked with Harry's green. "Who are you?"
"Who is that?" Harry seemed to notice Sebastian for the first time.
The young boy stood up, glancing at Harry and then back at his daughter. "Sebastian Aurelius Malfoy," he said stiffly.
"That's Malfoy's kid?" Harry blanched.
"Malfoy?" Fran asked. "As in Draco Malfoy of Argent Enterprises?"
"That's a long name, Sebastian." Evie grinned. "I'm Evie Potter."
"How do you know Malfoy?" Harry demanded, turning to Fran.
"Duh, people don't call me that," Sebastian pointed out rudely.
"Play nice, Sebastian," Ginny scolded.
Fran shrugged. "Everyone knows who Draco Malfoy is, Harry. It doesn't mean we're personal." Their eyes met for a long second before Harry broke away, clearing his throat loudly. It did not go undetected by Ginny, and she raised her eyebrows in intrigued contemplation as Harry coughed again.
"I thought you were leaving," he said, as politely as possible.
She flashed him a sweet but obviously fake smile. "Of course, Harry. Goodbye then, Evie."
"Goodbye," the raven-haired girl chirped as Fran disapparated.
"How do you know Fran?" Ginny asked after a few moments of silence.
"Oh, Daddy used to—" Evie began.
"Why did you bring Malfoy's kid here?" Harry interrupted.
"He asked me too," Ginny shrugged, winking at Sebastian. "And I like Malfoy's kid, so I agreed."
"Oh," Harry said. "Well, I promised Evie a day of shopping so I'm assuming you'll be fine by yourself."
"Just dandy," Ginny reassured as he took Evie's hand.
"Nice to meet you, Sebastian," Evie called over her shoulder. Sebastian, whose regal Malfoy upbringing seemed to suddenly kick in, responded to her sunny farewell with a stony disposition.
"Is this where you live?" he asked after they were safely gone.
"Yep," Ginny nodded. "I'm going to take a shower now. You think you can be by yourself for a few minutes?"
"Maybe," Sebastian replied with an impish grin.
She hesitated at the door to the bathroom. "You don't like Evie," she said, though it was truthfully a question.
The child looked up from his seat on the floor with a curious glint in his wide golden eyes. "Why wouldn't I?" He shrugged, but before Ginny could smile approvingly, he added, "Besides the fact that she's a sodding Potter."
He sounded so much like Draco Malfoy, Ginny didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
~*~
"Name?"
Draco Malfoy paused, feeling imminently out of place in the lobby of Ginny's apartment building. "Virginia Weasley," he said.
The woman manning visitors was in her forties, with wild brown hair that mildly resembled Granger's and beady, reproving eyes. "There's no response from her, sir," she said after a moment.
"Impossible," Draco scoffed. "Just tell me the number of her apartment."
"Sorry, but I can't let you in unless you're buzzed up," the woman said most unapologetically, and Draco felt the infamous Malfoy temper within him flare angrily.
"Listen, woman," Draco gritted his teeth. "I have a meeting in twenty minutes to negotiate the biggest deal of the century, and I need to bring my son with me to make a good, family impression. It just so happens that my son is under the care of Virginia Weasley, so give me the number, damnit!"
"Again," The woman replied placidly. "I can't do that."
"Do you know who I am?" Draco snarled. "I'm Draco Malfoy, president of Argent Enterprises, and if you don't give me the fucking apartment number, I will make your life a living hell because I assure you, I can."
"Is that a threat?" she narrowed her eyes.
"No," Draco said icily, his furious silver gaze enough to weaken even the most obdurate of obstacles. "It's a promise."
She seemingly shrunk under his malicious sneer, and after only a moments hesitation said in a quiet, defeated voice, "Third floor, D."
He briefly contemplated the standard expression of gratitude, but then decided he owed this woman no thanks. Purposefully strolling towards the stairs he was so preoccupied seething over her gall to dare refuse his request he didn't notice a black-haired man and his daughter until he ran into them.
"Malfoy?" Harry said incredulously.
"Oh look," Draco sneered. "It's Potter."
"Are you Sebastian's father?" the little girl piped up.
Of course, being Draco Malfoy, he debated whether to snarl at her also, but thankfully had enough aptitude to reply shortly, "Yes."
"Come Evie, let's go," Harry said, tugging at her hand.
Draco only watched them for a second before sprinting up the stairs, his mood more dour than ever.
Stupid Gryffindors.
~*~
"Oh my god I woke up with a snake tattoo," Ginny sang as she squeezed her pouf with a satisfying ferocity and watched the soap drain out. The hot water, though relaxing her muscles, did absolutely nothing for her lingering headache. It was just as well, as Hermione's potion was starting to vaguely take effect.
Maybe it would be appropriate just to outright tell Malfoy that she was the woman from seven years ago. Like he would care, she thought. She could already imagine the horrified expression on his face when he realized he'd slept with a Weasley. Oh yes Draco, by the way, remember that night at Flint's house when you shagged a random woman? Yes that was me. At any rate, the reason why they had merged physically was one she wasn't desparate to reveal to anyone, much less Draco Malfoy.
With a grimace, Ginny shook her wet mane and resolved to stop thinking about him, stop feeling like he would love her back or even see her in a romantic light. "Oh my god and I think that my tongue's pierced too," she sang loudly, as if her voice would banish him from her thoughts. "Oh my god, oh my god, it's the Sunday morning after. . ."
She wrenched the faucet to an off position, determined more than ever to put him out of her mind. "And baby who the hell are you!" She finished in a half-shout, pleased with her reckless flourish. Wrapping a large white towel around her she danced her way out the bathroom, twirling twice for good measure and flopping down on the couch. Most likely there would be a sopping wet spot from her hair, but at the moment Ginny closed her eyes and sighed deeply.
The weight on the sofa shifted. "Sebastian?" She murmured dazedly.
"Try the other Malfoy," a rich voice came in her right ear, dangerously close.
Her eyes flew open to see Draco sitting on her couch, in her living room, his gray eyes geniuinely amused and his lips curled in what could've been a smirk but looked more like a broad grin. What was he doing here? Before her mind registered what was happening, she reached out and pinched him firmly on his forearm.
"Ow," he yelped. "What the fuck?"
"Malfoy?" Ginny cried, leaping up and tightening her towel. "You're here. You're actually here."
"No shit," he scowled, rubbing his forearm. But as he raked his gaze up and down her towel-clad form, his eyes resting a moment too long on her chest, the scowl gave way to an unmistakable smirk. "It's the Sunday morning after and baby who the hell are you," said Draco in a sing-song voice, no doubt inexpressably entertained by her quickly reddening countenance.
"Merlin," she breathed, eyes growing as wide as saucers.
"You know," he drawled so softly it was menacing, "I think that song sounds better when it's actually on-key."
"Argh!" Ginny shrieked, and ran into her room with loud slam of her door. He had better have an adequate explanation for his presence. And if he didn't, she was really going to kill him.
But she had to get dressed first.
~End of Chapter 5
A little preview of the next chapter for being such wonderful and patient reviewers: =D
~~~
"Don't be daft," grumbled Draco. "Like I've pointed out before, you're a muggle-loving Weasley." He swung open the door and waited for her to step through, but instead she stared at him in startlement. "What?"
"You opened the door," Ginny pointed out with a surprised grin.
"Keen observation skills," said Draco dryly.
"You opened the door for me," Ginny said, her grin broadening.
As if noticing for the first time, Draco glanced dumbly from the smooth lines of his hands to her, and coughed. "Oh I get it," he recovered easily. "No guy has ever held a door for you before."
She simply smirked at him, his smirk, and waltzed out the door with Sebastian in tow. "Not a Malfoy."
~~~
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