Author's Note: Well, I appear to be on a roll these past few days. Sooo… I thought that I'd keep writing, and depending on how much I do, post a bit to make up for my long absence, and keep my story at the top to hopefully draw in some new readers. SPEAKING of new readers – I noticed quite a few new people have me on their Author Alert list, which I am of course tickled pink about. I do have one request for all of you, though. REVIEW! Reviews are what give me ideas, inspire me, and persuade me to keep writing when I'm feeling stinky about it. It's just a little button down there… see? So easy. :)

x x x x

Draco arrived in the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic and glanced around him. It was still early in the morning, but a number of people were there already. He strolled casually towards the golden gates that lead to the lifts, not even stopping for security. The guard opened his mouth to protest, but Draco turned his face towards him, and the man recognized him and waved him through.

He entered the lift alongside a small, round woman clutching a box containing something that caused it to shake violently and spit sparks. Draco edged away from her, leaning into the wall. The box reminded him strongly of his days at Hogwarts, in Hagrid's Care of Magical Creatures class.

They traveled up, and were joined by a few other uninteresting witches and wizards along the way. At level two, the little witch with the box departed, and Draco slowly exhaled with relief. Finally, he arrived at level one, and stepped out of the lift.

The hallway in front of him was long and contained many polished wooden doors, engraved with names painted over in gold. At the very end of the corridor, two tall, intricately carved mahogany doors stood imperiously. The seal of the Ministry glittered over the entrance. Draco scowled at the doors, knowing whose office lay behind them, and mentally promised himself to expose Fudge as the gold-digger he was.

He approached a door on the left side of the hall, with the name Gordan Helmstead carved into it. Below the name, in smaller letters, were the words Administrator of Inter-Department Policy. Draco rapped sharply on the door, and waited for an answer.

"Come in," called a deep, slightly raspy voice. "Mr. Malfoy! Good to see you," A sturdy, middle-aged man with very dark brown hair and tired eyes greeted Draco with a firm handshake. "I wasn't aware that you were coming by today. Please, have a seat,"

Draco settled himself into a comfortable armchair in front of the man's desk. The office was small, but nicely furnished, and thick golden curtains were pulled back from the window to let the early morning sunlight in.

"I wasn't even aware myself, until just this morning, sir."

"Please, call me Gordon," he said, closing a file on his desk, and leaning back. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, sir – I'm sorry, Gordon – I know that you helped my father out on a few occasions, when he needed to obtain information about Ministry personnel, did you not?" The man sat up a little straighter, and cleared his throat.

"I'll admit that I did have the occasional interaction with your father, Mr. Malfoy, but I assure you that nothing I ever presented him with jeopardized the safety of those parties involved."

"Only the integrity?" Draco smirked. The man was visibly nervous. The Malfoy name still carried a lot of weight, especially in these waters. "Don't worry, Gordon, I'm not here to bring up any past indiscretions of yours. However, I could use your help obtaining some… information."

"Ah!" Mr. Helmstead propped his elbows up on his desk and leaned forward eagerly.

"I am, of course, prepared to compensate you fully for your troubles," Draco said casually, drawing his fingers lightly across the fabric of the chair.

"Who did you have in mind?"

Draco's smirk grew wider.

x x x x

"Miss Weasley! Oh, I am delighted to see you, love," As soon as Ginny entered the store, she was met with great gusto by Ms. Waffle. "Did you find your way here easily?"

"Yes, I did, thank you," Ginny couldn't help but grin. She'd thought that Velma was gaudy at the dinner, but now she saw that she was wonderfully eccentric. She was dressed in shimmering olive green robes, tied at the waist with at least half a dozen silk scarves. Her fingers sported many rings encrusted with bright gemstones, and she literally glittered when she moved. "I can't even begin to thank you for this opportunity," Ginny said.

"Oh, please. You and I both know that this job is loads better than anything your parents would have set up at the Ministry, and frankly, I'm lucky to find someone I actually like. Merlin knows I can't work with just anyone," Velma winked. "Now, let's get this show on the road!"

Ginny spent the morning shadowing Velma – first she was shown around the shop. It consisted of three rooms; the main shop, the storeroom, and the potions room, the first being the largest. Large, multi-paned windows looked out onto Diagon Alley, and deep shelves lined the walls, laden with supplies. Velma worked behind a circular counter set in the middle of the room, where she kept a small mortar and pestle for grinding up small amounts of ingredients for customers. Ginny was fascinated with the storeroom, which was full of more bottles, boxes, and jars containing strange substances than she had ever seen in her life – even more than in the twins' room. And finally, the potions room. It was unlike the rest of the apothecary, which was warm and welcoming. The walls were thick slabs of stone, and only a small window allowed light from outside to sneak in. Ginny was reminded of the cold dungeon presided over by Professor Snape, at Hogwarts, which in turn reminded her of Draco. Draco. That prat. She did not want to be thinking about him right now. She pushed an image of him sulking at the dinner party out of her mind and looked around. She hoped that she wouldn't have to spend too much time back here.

The morning was slow, in terms of customers, and by the time her lunch break rolled around, Ginny was longing to stretch her legs. Velma offered to share her own meal with her, but Ginny declined.

"I think I'll take a walk, if you don't mind," she said. She left the shop and turned right, headed deeper into Diagon Alley. The sky had clouded over a bit now, and it looked as though it might rain. There was a café a ways down that Ginny had always wanted to try, but she wasn't sure if the weather would hold until she got there. When she felt the first drops of rain on her face, she made a split-second decision, and dodged into a small store a few buildings down.

"Well, well… look what's washed up on our doorstep, Fred!"

"Ginny! Fantastic! I was just about to test these new – " Ginny groaned.

"Save it, Fred. I'm only here for lunch. Which will not include any of those, thank you very much…" she gestured towards whatever Fred was waving cheerily at her.

It was only the third or fourth time she'd been inside Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, Inc., although it felt very familiar. Ginny supposed it was because the place resembled the boys' room at the Burrow quite a bit. Cauldrons and tubes were bubbling, sparking, fizzing, sizzling, smoking, whirring, and popping all over the place, and shelves were crammed full of oddly-shaped and colored objects. There were two levels to the room – the second opening out onto a balcony, which Fred was currently leaning over.

"You are going to eat lunch, aren't you?"

"Yeah, sure. Now's as good a time as any," George shrugged, and flicked his wand at the door, where a big red 'CLOSED. GO AWAY.' appeared.

"So." Fred bounded down the stairs and pulled up a stool right in front of Ginny.

"…so?"

"Work!"

"How is it?" George asked.

"Kind of slow so far, but I think I'm really going to enjoy it. Can we please eat? I'm really hungry!" Fred rolled his eyes.

"Alright, alright… don't get your knickers in a twist – ugh. I can't believe I just said that to my sister…"