A/N: This chapter decided it wanted to be shorter. I swear, my stories take on a life of their own. I have no control.
I introduce the American character in this chapter, so I'd just like to clear something up. I'm very, very, very American never having left the freaking country for even a vacation. As someone expressed the worry in their review, I won't stereotype this new character. At the end I'll explain a bit more about her, but for now just try and have fun reading it.
Also, the job of a Hit Witch might've come off unclear. I'll copy the definition from The Harry Potter Lexicon that I used for my story: The Department of Magical Law Enforcement maintains squads of trained Hit Wizards whose job it is to capture dangerous Wizard criminals. A group of these Hit Wizards captured Sirius Black after he supposedly killed Peter Pettigrew. The Hit Wizards are not the same as Aurors. Hit Wizards, it would seem, are sent primarily against criminals while Aurors track down and capture Dark Wizards. Hope that clears things up.
This will be my last update before I start school. Already there have been a couple of weeks in between updates, and it might be longer now that my life is being picked back up. To make things even more hectic, I now march in marching band, so that'll take up a significant amount of my time. I'll try to update as rapidly as humanly possible, but if there is a wait, you'll know why.
Anywho. I'm done rambling.
Wild thanks to Elaine, who just about rewrote the first scene to fix my blatant American…ness. More wild thanks to Karla, who beta'd my Spanish and made sure I don't come off like a wannabe bilingual freak. Yet even more wild thanks to Tia, who is the greatest English beta ever.
Disclaimer: Borrowed mostly from JK Rowling. bows down
Chapter Three
Mission Malfoy: Part I
"Pansy." Blaise's voice was low, and as cold as ice. "It's a Muggle party."
Draco and Blaise were in Pansy's plush flat, sitting in her room. It was decorated in deep purples, reds, and blues. All the girlish colors were making Draco dizzy.
Blaise was stretched out on the bed, his head propped up by three fluffy and lacy blue pillows. Draco was seated stiffly on a purple chaise. He always felt out of place when he was in Pansy's bedroom. Probably because he clashed with all the colors.
Pansy was bent over, rummaging through her endless array of clothes in her huge wardrobe. She was merely wearing a black, lacy bra and matching underpants - very slight underpants - but Draco was too used to seeing her half-naked to be effected. He had no sexual attraction to Pansy at all. He'd gotten that out of his system a long time ago. "I'm aware that it's a Muggle party, Blaise," she hummed silkily.
"So why the bloody hell are you going?" Blaise demanded sharply. He looked absolutely silly, lying in the sea of red blankets and blue pillows. Draco opened his mouth to make fun of him when Pansy spoke first.
"Correction, Blaise, love," she said, glancing up to flash a dazzling smile at them. "We, are going, not me," she declared.
Blaise snorted in disbelief, and Draco said evenly, "I would love to go, Pansy, but I have what my psychiatrist calls 'a mad, twisted, evil, flaming hatred for all things Muggle'."
Pansy shot him a frustrated look. "Don't be such a wanker, Draco. You don't go to a psychiatrist."
"Thanks, I didn't know," he replied smoothly, his face blank.
"You two are coming with me," she said, turning to face the wardrobe once more, "because I need moral support."
"We'll give moral support," Blaise told her, "before you leave and when you come back. Over my cold, dead body will you get me to go to that party."
"Oh, my darling, that can be arranged," Pansy called coolly.
Blaise glowered severely. "What do you need moral support for?" he snapped. "Why the hell do you even want to go?"
"I have a date," she said simply.
"Oh. I'm all for it then," Draco told Blaise, who smirked in response.
Pansy pulled out a short red dress and pressed it against her front. "What do you think?" she asked, frowning down at herself. "Too . . . vivid?"
They both stared at her. She was asking them for clothes advice?
"You two," she pointed in turn, disgusted, "need a woman." She threw the dress back into the wardrobe carelessly.
"I'm still not understanding you, Pansy," said Blaise lazily, tilting his head back and looking at the ceiling. "You want us to come to a Muggle party, where we'll be tempted to harm everyone in the vicinity, just because you have a date?"
"If you would stop complaining so much," she said loudly, annoyed, "maybe I could finish."
"Then finish," Draco snapped.
"I will when I'm damn well ready," she replied tartly.
They waited a couple of seconds as she continued to look through her clothes. She removed another dress, this one longer and peacock blue, and held it against herself once more.
"Too vivid," Draco informed her with an arrogant grin.
"Fuck you," she said briskly. S he heaved the dress back into the wardrobe and crossed the room, collapsing into a chair with an exasperated sigh. "Hmm, where was I? Oh yes, my date. If you two goons would think for a minute, you would remember that I've never done something without a good reason. You would also find that I have, on many occasions, expressed my strong dislike towards Muggles, just as strong your lot's is."
"So why are you so eager to go to this goddamn party and drag us with you?" Blaise snarled.
She gave him a very forced smile. "Let me finish?" she asked with a voice so sweet it was venomous.
"Of course." Blaise dropped his head back and raised his eyes to the ceiling once more.
"Thank you, darling," she said with the same tone. Then she went on more firmly, "I am going to this party for a good reason. And that reason overrides my ill feelings towards Muggles. In fact, once I tell you who my date is, you will most certainly be rushing out to purchase a Muggle tuxedo for tomorrow night."
Draco began to realize what she was saying. She had a date with someone vital to The Plan. But if that was so, then why the hell were they going to a Muggle party? Wouldn't her date be a wizard?
Blaise lifted his head. "Who's your date?" he pressed impatiently.
"Tannar," she said with a proud smile. "Gaius Tannar."
Blaise shot up into a sitting position on the bed. Draco blinked. Gaius Tannar . . . the man bloody owned Azkaban prison. He designed the damn place. How had Pansy gotten a date with him?
"I'm expecting praise any minute now," she sang, inspecting her nails demurely.
"If I was the type, I would be kissing your feet," Blaise muttered, in shock. "But as it is, I'll just say that you're a god - damn - genius."
She beamed, and glanced at Draco. "Your turn."
"Incredible, Pansy," he said, honestly.
"It's tough being brilliant," she sighed, looking up at the ceiling and twirling a curl on her finger. "But I manage."
"Wait, wait, wait," Blaise said suddenly, holding up a hand. "If you want Draco and me to come, won't Tannar recognize Draco?"
Pansy shrugged her bare shoulders. "Perhaps. But you forget there's nothing he can do about it. The Ministry is already after him." She grinned wickedly. "He won't have authority to do anything. Plus, he's never seen Draco before. He might not even know who he is at all."
"Why is he going to a Muggle party?" Draco inquired suspiciously.
"His wife's a Muggle," Pansy said darkly, her face falling. "Goddamn bitch," she muttered sourly under her breath.
Blaise gave another snort. "If his wife's there, then how are you his date?" he shot at her.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "I used the term 'date' loosely. I merely meant I knew where he was going, and how I could, ah, catch his attention. I hear his wife's an old hag," she added sadistically. "Doesn't know magic, so can't make herself look decent. I can drag him away from his homely little woman, and . . . you know. Get information.
"We won't need to go through the trouble of stealing Azkaban documents to learn the layout of the prison," she went on. "I'll just use a Truth Potion on him, milk him for some information, and then Obliviate his arse. Save us a lot of time. And effort."
"So explain to me why you want Draco and me to go," Blaise stated.
Her countenance changed. She gave a thrilled grin. "I refuse," she said delicately, "to suffer through an evening with Muggles alone. You two are there, as I said, to give me moral support."
"By suffering with you?" Blaise snapped.
Her smile was now smug. "Precisely."
Sunday, 9 March, 2003
Obstacle Number One: Location
If I was Draco Malfoy, Ginny thought, standing in the middle of the pavement as Muggles hurried by her, where would I shop?
All she could think was that she certainly wasn't Draco, and she had trouble bringing up the image of him actually shopping. Probably had his clothes fitted especially for him, in the privacy of his own home. Had his groceries brought to his place. Never ate out for fear of unsanitary or unsavory cooking.
He probably was a complete bore.
Right. She'd seen many photographs of him, out and about. There had only been a few pictures taken of him inside somewhere. He seemed to have a fondness for walking around the city, most likely shopping. Where, though, she didn't know. She had just spent a half hour studying every photograph of him she had, and didn't see any shop names or recognize any streets.
"Well," she whispered to herself with a sigh, "I might as well start asking about him in the richer part of the neighborhood."
Not knowing where to start but being in a hurry, she decided would begin with the Muggle world. In hindsight this probably wasn't wisest; Madrid was a Muggle city, and therefore the Muggle area would be a lot bigger than the wizarding one. It would be easier to start out small, and then, if she didn't get any leads, head on to the larger world.
But it wouldn't hurt to take one day to search the Muggle world for news of Draco. Besides, she was quite eager to see the city in pure Muggle glory.
Ginny stumbled across a touristy shop, mostly by luck. She went inside and bought a map. It was with the cash clerk that she ran into the first major problem; language.
In her pocketbook she had a Spanish-English dictionary. It was, unfortunately, a Muggle one; a wizarding one would've been so much more convenient. If she had been able to use magic, then all she would've had to do was tap the wizarding dictionary and the words she wanted to say would've appeared.
But as she was in the Muggle world, she could only use a Muggle dictionary, and she would have to work with it. Flipping word by word she searched for what she needed.
As she took it out, trying to find every word the clerk said, the line behind her grew. People began to moan and groan, unsubtly hinting in all sorts of languages that she should just pay and leave. Finally, she threw down a single Euro note with the number 5 printed on it, hoped she didn't overly pay the man, snatched her map, and left. Not before, however, snapping a rude phrase at the queue of Spaniards behind her. She forgot, of course, that it was a tourist shop, and a good deal of people could understand English. Ignoring the gasps and "Well I never!"s she received, she stormed out.
Well, she had a map. But what good did it do her? It didn't point out, Here is an expensive neighborhood; search here!
A decent wizarding map would've, she thought moodily. She began to think that Muggles weren't so great after all. She shoved the map into her overly large pocketbook that she'd come to find has hideously ugly. First chance she got she was buying a newer, sleeker one.
For the next half hour, Ginny wandered the streets of Madrid. The day was hot; who would've imagined it would be so warm so early in March? Within minutes of leaving the shop she was wiping sweat off her forehead, wishing she'd worn shorts instead of jeans.
Yet she walked on, despite her discomfort, keeping her eyes open. At any sign of fancy-looking shops, she would stop. So far, the shops remained small and quaint; clean, but not anything extravagant.
In her quest, she didn't take in the city nearly as much as she had wanted. That might work to my advantage, she mused. It would make a great date to have Draco show her all the tourist places to visit.
When she was about to turn around, head back to her inn, and ask Ms. Okal for help, she just happened to notice a boutique across the street. Its wide window provided her a view of upscale women's clothing.
Bingo, she thought, grinning.
She glanced all around, seeing that it wasn't exactly a rich street. In fact, the only thing that looked a bit out of the ordinary was the women's shop. And there wasn't any way Draco had ever gone shopping in a woman's clothing shop.
With a frustrated sigh, she trudged on.
After a few more minutes of walking, she decided she'd just go into any shop that seemed like a man would shop in. Who the hell cared if she would use all her energy doing Memory Charm after Memory Charm. She'd lose vigour much more quickly if she kept walking the entire goddamned city.
She stepped into the first place she saw, a pub. Its name was scrawled in Spanish, but when Ginny entered she saw it was decorated in Irish themes. She immediately thought of Maili and smiled to herself.
It wasn't crowded, but it was rather smoky. A few people sat at the bar, a few more scattered at various tables in the room. Cigarette and cigar smoke swirled together, clogging Ginny's lungs. She'd always detested tobacco smoke.
A few men glanced at her admiringly when she walked in. She ignored them pointedly and began to wonder how she could get the bartender alone, to ask him if he'd ever seen Malfoy, and then perform the Memory Charm without being seen. However, she couldn't think of any excuse to speak with the bartender privately, so she just sat in the first empty chair at the bar and planned to mull it over in her head.
The bartender moved to her part of the bar. He asked her something in Spanish; she assumed he wanted to know what she wanted to drink.
"I'll have a water, please," she said, before remembering he didn't speak English.
"Eh?" he asked, and she rummaged through her pocketbook to find her Spanish-English dictionary.
"Agua para ella, una cerveza para mí," a sleek voice said from behind her.
Surprised, Ginny twisted her head to see a tall, beautiful woman slid into the seat beside her. The bartender nodded and hurried off.
"Er . . . thanks," Ginny told her. "What did you tell him?"
The woman had a long mane of perfectly tousled black hair, falling down her back. Her skin was the color of bronze, and she wore the tiniest pair of shorts Ginny had ever seen. Her top was a white sleeveless shirt, and it was evident she wore no bra. When she turned her face to Ginny's, she saw that her eyes were shockingly gold - amber, rather. After a moment Ginny realized they were contacts.
"I told him you wanted to have sex with him, and that if he paid us a few American thousand, I would join in," the woman replied smoothly, the American accent clearly audible.
Ginny managed to laugh through her surprise. "Sounds reasonable," she said.
"No," the American said breezily. "I wouldn't settle for less than a million; that guy must have every disease known to mankind, and some that probably haven't been discovered yet."
Ginny laughed again, this time without having to force it. The bartender did look rather greasy and . . . disgusting.
"I know you," the woman said suddenly, and Ginny met her eyes. Her disturbing eyes. "You're staying at my hotel."
Ginny couldn't recall seeing her, but then she remembered Nathaniel Marksmon and his complaints about the American woman and her man. "Inn," she corrected mildly as their drinks were slid in front of them. Her water as ordered. She took a dainty sip of her water as the American chugged nearly half the glass of her beer in one gulp.
"Yeah, that's what I meant," she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. She belched unbecomingly.
"I don't recall seeing you," Ginny told her, trying not to wrinkle her nose.
"I was walking by the dining room earlier this afternoon," she answered, fixing Ginny with her golden gaze. "Glanced in, caught sight of your red hair. I guess it stuck out in my mind."
"I'm, er, Ginny," Ginny said, offering her hand. "Ginny Weasley."
"Hey, Ginny," she replied, shaking it. "I'm Penelope Harriston."
"Nice to meet you," Ginny said, though she wondered if it was nice. The woman was social enough, but Ginny felt rather intimidated by her.
Unattractive.
Boyish.
Pale.
Still. Her personality was interesting.
Penelope finished her beer in two more sips and signaled for another one. "So you work for the British Ministry - a Hit Witch, huh?" she asked as the disease-infected bartender took her glass away to refill it.
Ginny sputtered on her water, spitting it back into her cup. "What?"
Penelope smirked at her. "I guess I'm what you call nosy," she said. "Yesterday Addy Okal left a bunch of parchments out on her desk in the lobby. I read some. One was a letter from someone saying a Ginny Weasley was coming here to search for some fugitive."
Ginny struggled to find the right words. It made her angry that the woman had snooped through Ms. Okal's personal belongings as if she had a right to. And then to actually tell Ginny about it? What nerve. "I would think you're what I would call a nosy bitch," she said icily, taking a bigger drink from her water. "You had absolutely no right to read Ms. Okal's parchments. It's both an infringement on her privacy and mine."
"Infringement?" Penelope looked amused. She sipped a smaller amount of her newly filled glass, her golden eyes dancing as she studied Ginny. Ginny determinedly looked forward, avoiding her stare. "Well, I'm sorry I infringed. But I did, so pouting and ignoring me won't change it."
"Excuse me." Ginny's tone was short and clipped. She slapped down a few Euro bills on the bar and then stood up. "It was great meeting you, Penelope, but I have work to do. You know, catching the fugitive and that sort of thing."
Penelope laughed as Ginny headed out. "My room is two thirty five. Come by sometime; we'll do lunch."
Weird thing to say. Ginny had no intent of doing anything with her. All she could do was hope that Penelope wouldn't find some way to mess up Ginny's job.
Ginny stomped around a bit, working up a reasonable sweat. When she finally stopped sulking, she remembered that she had a mission to accomplish. She looked around and saw she was standing beside a men's clothing shop.
Convenient, she thought, feeling better about this place than the pub. She would certainly be able to corner a salesperson and use a Memory Charm on them in a place away from prying eyes, if she had to.
Trying to shove her bad mood out of the way, she opened the door and stepped inside the cool shop. A bell rang somewhere, and a salesman hurried up to her.
He eyed her somewhat suspiciously, then said something in Spanish.
"Damn it," Ginny swore, and fumbled through her purse. "I can't . . . I don't know Spanish. . . ."
"No problem, señorita," the man said, looking a bit miffed at her mild curse. "I speak English."
"Oh, thank God," she said, dropping her purse to her side.
"May I help you with something? Shopping for a husband, brother, father? As you can see, we have the spring's newest fashions -" the man began, as if it was rehearsed.
"No, I just have a couple of questions to ask you," Ginny interrupted.
He raised his eyebrows, now looking slightly worried. "Oh? Are you policía?"
Ginny stared for a moment, unsure what he meant. It then registered that he meant policewoman, and she recalled that Muggles had police forces to protect them. "No, no I'm not," she said, her gaze shifting by the salesman to scan the shop. "I was just wondering if you'd seen a certain man shop here. He's about this height," she made a gesture a few centimeters above her head, "and of medium build. He has very pale, blonde hair and. . . ."
She stopped from absolute shock. Her eyes rested on a man in the back of the shop.
Draco Malfoy.
He was standing so she had a view of his profile, but it was very obviously him. He hadn't seen her; he was too busy pinching the trousers of a tuxedo on a mannequin. The trademark Malfoy smirk was slashed across his undeniably attractive face and he looked completely amused with whatever situation he was in.
"And never mind!" she yelped spinning and bolting out of the shop. Heart thudding, she tried to gather her scattered thoughts as she pressed her back to the shop window.
Think, Weasley, think, she told herself frantically. Talk about pure, dumb luck. She hadn't just found somewhere he shopped; she'd found the man himself.
She hadn't expected to actually see him, so therefore she hadn't prepared herself for an encounter. She'd only thought she would search around and ask if he had been seen. But there he was, real as life, standing inside the shop.
Gathering a bit of courage, she turned and glanced in the window. He was still on the opposite side of the shop, and Ginny noticed there was a salesman and another man standing with him, and the salesman was speaking to him.
"Ahh," she mumbled, and wondered if she should approach him.
No. The answer came swiftly and certainly. She didn't want to speak with him until she had a rehearsed plan. If she went up to him now and improvised a conversation, there was a strong chance she would drop hints - without meaning to - that she worked for the Ministry.
First, she decided, she would need to stake him out a bit, maybe spy on him. She got a brief idea, and turned to face the sidewalk once again.
Her eyes scanned the crowd quickly. She needed a scarf . . . God, didn't anyone carry a scarf? . . . it was only hotter than hell outside. . . .
Aha. Ginny spotted a woman strolling by, a multi-colored piece of cloth tied around her waist. It wasn't being worn as a scarf, but it would work.
Ginny pulled out her wand, kept it in the close shelter of her body. "Accio scarf," she murmured, pointing at the lady's waist.
It untied, and Ginny hurried to come up beside the woman. She just barely made it as the scarf floated the first few centimeters into her hand. The woman walked on, noticing nothing, and no one had seen it float at all. Perfect.
She returned to the shop's window, peeking in again. She didn't see Malfoy in the back anymore, but he neither had he come out; he had to be trying on a suit or something. Quickly, she wrapped the scarf over her conspicuous Weasley hair and knotted it under her chin.
She studied her obscure reflection in the glass. Well. The scarf was so vibrant it seemed it would attract more attention than her own hair. But there wasn't a chance that Malfoy would recognize the scarf. As long as he didn't get a clear look at her face (and even if he did, maybe he wouldn't even know it was her), she would be fine.
Ginny took a deep breath to steady herself, and then went back into the shop. The same salesman as before stepped up to her, now not even bothering to look polite at all. He frowned at her.
"Señorita, is there anything I can help you with? Are you here to buy something or -"
"I want to have a look around," she said frigidly, hoping to sound like a rich, spoiled woman. "Now go away until I call you again. Go on." She waved her hand to shoo him off.
She caught the glare he threw at her before he went on to help another customer. She ignored it, already craning her neck to see over the racks of sports coats and dressy trousers to spot a blonde head.
There were some three other customers shopping, but none of them proved to be Malfoy. Ginny crept towards the back, trying to be inconspicuous while being careful not to flash her face about at the same time. There was a wide doorway in the back wall that led to the changing rooms. She pressed against the wall beside the opening as casually as she could, trying to angle her head so she could see any comings and goings from the changing rooms while keeping the scarf in place to obscure her features.
She heard voices from the changing rooms, immediately identifying Malfoy's.
"I look ridiculous," came his familiar drawl, scarcely unchanged in five years except for its depth. "How did we let her talk us into this goddamn party again?"
"Oh but Draco, you don't look ridiculous," said a voice that Ginny wasn't common with. At the moment, the man was clearly trying to imitate a female tone. "You look ever so handsome." There was no response from Draco, though the unknown man laughed. "You don't look better than I did, though," he continued, his voice leveling out into something more manly. "I look better in black than you."
"Bollocks you do," Draco replied sharply.
"You look like a fucking corpse," the man said indignantly. "Ever think of going out in the sun, you vampire?"
"I can still hit you. I'm not afraid to spill blood on clothes that aren't mine."
"I'm about to piss myself I'm so frightened," the man shot back snidely. "So is this the one you're going to get or what? I want to get out of here. I might go on a Muggle-torturing spree at any moment. They're unpredictable, you know, my sprees."
Ginny wasn't quite sure if that was a joke or not. She sincerely hoped it was. Who was this man, anyway?
"Yeah," grumbled Malfoy. "I'll get this one."
"You make a great Muggle, Draco; you'll blend in perfectly tomorrow," the man smirked, and chuckled coldly at his own wit.
Ginny heard their approaching footfalls, and leapt away from the wall. She strolled into one of the aisles of racks, pretending to check the price on a pair of trousers. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the two figures move towards the middle of the shop. Once their backs were to her, she turned her face completely to see them. The blonde wearing the tuxedo was evidently Draco. The other had midnight black hair and wore a pair of black trousers and a white T-shirt. Ginny still couldn't recognize him; though she knew he was British, she most likely didn't know him.
The two of them were speaking to their salesman, and Malfoy would be returning to the changing room soon to get out of his new tuxedo. It was time for Ginny to go; she'd heard all she needed.
They - or Draco, anyway - were going to a party the next day. She could either follow the pair of them around all day, or she could wait until they left and ask their salesman what party they were attending. Since they would probably notice a lady wearing a brightly colored scarf following them around for the remainder of the evening, she decided on the latter.
She had her face buried in her useless map when the two men came out. She glanced up and caught a glimpse of the dark-haired man's features, and a flash of familiarity ran through her mind. So she did know him. She couldn't figure out from where she knew him, but at the moment it didn't matter. She'd probably see him at the party tomorrow and could ponder it more in depth; if she managed to find out where the party was, that is.
Ginny waited until they had disappeared down the street before she went back into the menswear shop. She spotted Malfoy's salesman and approached him. She kept her scarf on, just in case.
"Hi," she told him, seeing he was with a customer and not caring. "I need to ask you a favor."
He shot her a stiff smile. "Excuse me, señorita," he said, and she was too eager to learn information to be thankful he spoke her language. "I am with a customer. . . ."
"Yes, that's great," Ginny said hurriedly. "So, Mister . . ." She glanced at his nametag, "Humberto, I need you to tell me what party those two gentlemen you were serving a few minutes ago are going to tomorrow night."
Humberto's smile turned even stiffer. "Señorita," he said haughtily, "I wouldn't tell you that even if I did know it. You are being rude; if you have a question about anything in the shop, I will be glad to assist you in a moment. If not, then feel free to leave, por favor."
She could see she would have to bribe him. Well, no matter. She would get the money back.
"Okay, Mr. Humberto," she said, getting angry once more. She reached into her purse and pulled out her roll of Euro currency. "I give you this, you tell me what party. Comprende?"
Humberto eyed the money coolly, then plucked it from her hands to count. He got through only a few bills before he met her eyes and replied, "La fiesta esos dos hombres van a asistir está al Westin Palace Hotel. ¿Comprende Usted?" he finished with what looked like an awfully ugly sneer.
Ginny was irritated that he'd used Spanish, but she did know what fiesta meant, and the Westin Palace Hotel was English enough. She got the gist of it. "Thank you," she told him through clenched teeth, then added, "Merci."
Just to brass Humberto off.
She started to exit the shop, but watched over her shoulder as Humberto pocketed her food money. She wouldn't need it for actual food; she could eat at the hotel for free. But she wanted her spending money, and wasn't about to let poorly-English-speaking Humberto have it all.
At the door, she brought out her wand and whispered, "Accio money."
Fortunately, no one noticed the roll of money that flew into Ginny's waiting hands. Humberto didn't feel anything lift from his pocket.
And hopefully no security cameras were focused on her at that time.
Ginny triumphantly placed her money back in her pocketbook, whipped off the scarf, and headed for the Amistoso Inn, thoughts of a hot bath and a warm dinner dancing in her head.
Tomorrow, she would shop for a dress. After all, she had a party to attend.
Later that evening, Ginny was in a large T-shirt and toweling her hair dry when someone knocked on her door.
Thinking it would be a house-elf with more clean towels, she opened it willingly. But there stood Penelope Harriston, still wearing her revealing outfit and a conceited smile.
"Hey there," she said. "Can I come in?"
She didn't wait for an answer. She pushed past Ginny and strode into the room, taking it in. It was already slightly messy; Ginny wasn't the tidiest person, and rather liked clutter in her life.
"Damn, I got screwed," Penelope whistled. "This room is twice the size of mine."
"I don't mean to be rude," Ginny said somewhat coldly, "but I would prefer it if you left. I need to get dressed; I want to make it to dinner on time."
Penelope turned to face her, the dusk's weak sunlight spilling onto the floor behind her. "Well, I didn't come here to make you late. I just came to give you this." She held up a Euro note.
"What?" Ginny said blankly.
"You overpaid the bartender," Penelope informed her with a smirk. "By ten Euros. You were so pissed off with me you didn't see what you were thrusting on the table."
Ginny took the note, softening a bit. "Well, thank you." Then she became suspicious again, narrowing her eyes. "How'd you find my room?"
Penelope grinned widely at her, and was out the doorway in two strides of her endless legs. She paused and stood before Ginny, her gold eyes still startling her. "Remember, honey," she said smugly, "I'm a nosy bitch."
Then she was strolling down the hall, humming carelessly, and around a corner and out of sight.
Ginny, fighting the twitch in her face that was a smile, shut the door and curled the money in her palm. Her earlier frustrations at Penelope were beginning to fade. Then she remembered that the woman could completely botch this entire assignment and lose Ginny her job in the process. The frustrations returned in full force.
She pushed her feelings aside and tried to focus. After dinner, she planned on coming back into her room and thinking. A lot. She would stand, so she wouldn't fall asleep again. She needed to figure out a way to approach Malfoy at the part the next night.
She had an image of her all dressed up, slinking up to Malfoy casually and feigning cool surprise at seeing him. "Oh, hello, Mr. Malfoy," she would say. "Long time, hasn't it been?"
She laughed at that simple picture. "Slinky" and "cool" weren't exactly the words used to describe her. She was the most graceless, hotheaded person she knew.
Okay, so she couldn't be the chilling seductress. But she could catch his attention. And she could figure out a way to make him believe she A) didn't know of his death, and B) didn't work for the Ministry.
She could. But it would take a lot of thinking.
Stomach rumbling mercilessly, Ginny headed down for dinner.
Translations: What Penelope said to the bartender: "Agua para ella, una cerveza para mí" means "Water for her, a beer for me."
What Humberto said to Ginny: "La fiesta esos dos hombres van a asistir está al Westin Palace Hotel. ¿Comprende Usted?" means "The party those two men are going to attend is at the Westin Palace Hotel. Do you understand?"
And merci means, in French, "thank you" ;)
A/N: Not only did the length of this chapter decide itself, I think Penelope Harriston wrote herself. Originally I wanted to make her a cool, aloof, and rather mean girl, but she turned out kind of . . . outgoing. And if she sounds like she has the traits of a Mary Sue, I am here to tell you that her purpose is not Mary-Sueism. I promise. She's there for a reason, and it's not to be a pretty little American who can do magic without a wand and make everyone fall in love with her.
That clear, I'll move on.
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Now, thank yous!
Waterfairy-rose (haha unwanted homework, that's exactly what he is), Sakura1287 (I'll be sure to check your fics out, definitely. Thanks for the review!), fEEdLestEEx, Luinthoron (ha thank you!), TomFeltons4ever (hee, don't we all want to know?), xangelcrisisX (yes, poor poor Ginny . . .), Crystal14 (ooh, perfect timing on my part, no?), Atherie (haha sorry about that), Nobodysbitch (yeah, I agree, not enough Draco. But in the books it says he's rather short, so I decided to keep him on the short side), silverarrows (It completely depressed me too! Hope this will cheer you up), kneh13 (thank you much), Pii Rainwalker (yep, she has her little dictionary with her. But she wanted to get right to work, so she didn't bother with sightseeing), myStiCaLYia (haha of course, they'll both fall head over heels for each other), FlavOftheweek (she and Maili will definitely have some bonding time, but not quite yet. Hope you had fun camping ;)), Brooke Kenobi (oh, I don't think I'll give up completely on D/G. I'm so comfortable with it I'd just feel lost without it. But I might just branch out and do something else, like a Hr/R or maybe a H/G. I certainly won't leave D/G though, so don't worry. Anyway, thanks!), mz-duCkiee (I'm American too, so I won't try to stereotype her too much. Hope you understand a Hit Witch now), dragongirlG(indeed, Maili has an important role. Dude, I cringe every time I think of The Brother Amulets, and I pray that my writing has improved since then, haha), Allie29 (hey there Adriene. I'm rather excited about my original characters as well. Thanks much!), MrsGeorgeWeasley (thank you!), S.e.a5 (thanks, characterization is normally the hardest thing for me to do, so I appreciate it!), Laverne de Montmorency (thanks!), ncendio (haha everyone seems to have been out of town. Thanks!), Katzi (you're welcome for the email. I know, poor Mrs. Weasley…oh well, she might be thankful that she has some time to herself now, haha), twinsofthesky (I had originally added some comment about Scandinavia being really random, but then I thought it might offend some people who might live there, or have lived there, or have relatives there, or whatever. So yeah, I agree, Scandinavia is really really odd, but it just seemed to fit to me. It doesn't have anything to do with the story, really, but oh well. Thanks for suck a great, long review!), Fernanda (Ginny is capable of anything! Bwahaha…yeah, anyway, thanks!), lightning bug (haha I thought everyone would call me stupid for saying Lerato, but people seemed to like it. It was the first Latin name I came upon when I was scanning, so I was like, 'Hey, that'd be funny' and put it in. Anyway, read my response to twinsofthesky if you want info on the whole Scandinavia bit. We all want to stalk Draco!), Miss Auburn (thank you very much!), Bulma Greenleaf (I don't understand how anyone can like long chapters, I like them rather short. But I appreciate it nonetheless, don't think I don't! Please don't send the Evil-Pink-Fluffy-Teddybears-of-Doom after me because I am utterly terrified of anything evil, pink, fluffy, and teddybear-ish. giggle), frananddragon (whoosh, great review! Glad you like AYNiL. Ha, fanfiction does pollute, I agree. Glad you liked the new characters, I'm quite fond of them myself strokes Kevin lovingly Thank you much!), Lauren (I – hate – computers beats computer viciously with pole Ahem, anyway, that sucks that you lost your first review, but this one made me happy, so don't worry. Sorry about the wait on this chapter, it's been craziness here for the past couple of weeks. I'm glad you like my characterization, that's one of the things that takes a bit of thinking on. I apologize for the little grammatical things; I haven't had a beta look at the first two chapters yet, so everything you see there is my fault. Anyway, thanks for the super long review!), goldentwilight (it took me forever to think of this plotline, and I was afraid it would be kind of shadowed out by the creativity of AYNiL, but it's turning out pretty good. I'm having lots of fun with it, and that's all that counts, really. I could possibly have a fanfic gene, but it would be great if I had as much passion for my original work as I do for HP. Anywho, thanks for your review, it made my day!), TheGirlWhoLived2 (haha, 2, that's pretty retarded. Hope you're having a great time on your holiday…in France…cries with absolute envy), Sydney Lynne (sorry about the confusion. Yes, eventually all the OC's will evolve into something that resembles…order. Haha, thanks for the happy review), TrinitYMalfoY527 (my, thank you! Haha, the "thin as sin" quote wasn't really saying that it was a sin to be thin. I just meant that she was really skinny. Whoa, I said it was the middle of the week on Friday? smacks self Wow, I can get pretty stupid sometimes. Maybe I'll get off my lazy ass and change it sometime, but thanks for pointing it out! You're review made me very very pleased, thank you!), ChristyKay (Haha, well, I'm not brainwashed, but I see Blaise as female as well. And of course I'll update someday ;)), Mia (thank ya!).
From the Yahoo Group: Blaise (haha, glad you liked that part. I just went to Virginia, nowhere that interesting, but I had a good time. I would loooove to visit Texas again; I used to live there!)
You all have no idea how happy reviews make me. Thank you for taking time to tell me what you think. You all rock the cazba! clears throat Anyway.
Next chapter: They meet. They really really meet. And a very elegant party awaits you . . .