Abstract: Featuring Ginny Weasley as graduate student in training, and an icy blond Slytherin as her supervisor. Toss in a couple of science jokes or nerdy pick-up lines, and there's the perfect protocol for passion. (Er…)

Rating: Naughty, for some eventual smutfilled action

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for my own MIT-spackled background, which might or might be correct. :)

-iii-

Chapter 3: Results

All that work has to result in something, right?

-iii-

Clam chowder. Ginny inhaled the comforting creamy scent fervently. The only remotely uncomfortable thing about the whole meal was the calm stare from two very molten-silver eyes, attached to the molten-hot professor in front of her.

Molten-hot? Ugh.

"Thank you for the lunch, Professor," Ginny said, breaking the silence. "I've never been to Legal Seafoods before."

Malfoy seemed to relax, just a smidgen. "Among the freshest seafood in Boston, or so I've heard. I've had better, of course, but since this particular restaurant is just a skip away from campus, the convenience factor compensates for any mediocrities of the place." He relaxed even more, adjusting his dark green Slytherin-style tie, stirring his iced tea. "Now. How are you finding the laboratory?"

"Good, actually. The lab is fantastic, the other students and post-docs are friendly, and the PI's doing cutting edge research. What else could a fresh first-year ask for?" Both of them were surprised. Ginny hadn't meant to be quite so honest or praise-ful. But then Malfoy smiled, a genuine smile. He had quite a nice smile, Ginny realized. Too soon, the flash of pearly whites was replaced by a quick smirk.

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Weasley," her lunch companion drawled. "But I do appreciate your sentiments. Now, how's your assay for that protein coming along?"

"Fantastic, really. I ran the experiment once yesterday, and got pretty good results. But I'm running it again today to make sure they're reproducible."

"Good, good." The main entrees had arrived, and they munched in silence for a while.

"Professor?" Ginny suddenly remembered. "Some of the other graduate students were talking about funding, and they mentioned that a deadline for fellowships was coming up…"

Actually the conversation had begun with Shaunna working on the computers and Rob pouncing on her with, "Hey, baby – how about I tinker with your software while you turn on my hardware?" She'd immediately transitioned into, "Egad, Rob, have you seen this grant application? It's all online now, but there's still just as much red tape and fine print as always… It's gotta be over 100 pages long!" But Ginny didn't mention the finer details of that particular conversation.

Malfoy had raised his eyebrows. "Weasley, first-years usually haven't even picked their labs by this time yet. And you're worrying about fellowships already? As your PI, I'll fund you for as long as you need it."

Ginny nodded, albeit a tad dismissively. "I know, Professor Malfoy, but I've never liked riding someone else's coattails. I went ahead and looked at the grant application and filled out a few of the forms. I just need one more reference, and I know that I haven't worked in your lab for all that long, but we did know each other back in school, though you might not want to mention some of the more…unsavory details of that, but…"

She was babbling again. She cleared her throat. "That is, I have most of the application completed already. If you'd perhaps look it over and write me a recommendation, I'll try to send it in and you can put more money into the lab than into my tuition or stipend."

Malfoy looked at her. Were his eyes…twinkling? "I see. Well then, Miss Weasley, you're quite a find. I'll see what I can do."

-iii-

On the way back, she dug the fellowship application out of her backpack and handed it to him. "I'm also not sure about the format," she explained. "I'm not all that good with computers yet, but perhaps a more experienced eye can spot how to fix any of the glitches…"

"I'll have Pansy look at it," he agreed, stepping into his office.

"You'll have Pansy look at what, babe?" came a quick blip of lipstick and red nails, as the paper was plucked unceremoniously from the professor's well-manicured hands.

"Ah, speak of the devil. It's a fellowship application. Check the formatting and everything, would you?" With that, Malfoy disappeared.

Ginny stared at the closed door to the inner sanctum. Then she transferred her attention to the secretary, who was tapping her foot against the floor as she skimmed the details.

"Hmm… well, the title heading's right, borderline margins, references… you'll need three, you know…"

Something clicked. "Pansy? Pansy Parkinson?"

The dark-haired woman grunted grumpily. "That's my name, dearie, don't wear it out. Now, if you don't mind, I'm trying to look over your grant application—"

"Goodness, Pansy… you probably don't remember me, but I'm Ginny Weasley. As in, a fellow witch – er, non-Muggle. Schoolmate. From Hogwarts?"

Pansy Parkinson gave her the once-over. "Yes, dear. I could've recognized that hair anywhere. Had quite a chuckle about it and irony when you walked into this lab. And how's that luscious brother of yours doing?"

Luscious? Which brother?

"Oh, I never got to know all or any of them." Oh bother, Ginny thought. I must've said that aloud. Pansy continued blithely, "No, not as …deeply as I'd have liked to, really. Just a few tastes into eye-candy land, if you catch my drift."

Stifling a mental urge to emit an "Ewwwww!" Ginny decided to be mature about the whole situation. This lady held her grant application in her scarlet-nailed scarlet-woman hands. It wouldn't kill a Weasley to be nice, would it? "Why, Pansy," she replied drolly, "If you really want to get to know them better, I could arrange a visit. Enhance trans-Atlantic relations, perhaps." Er… that wasn't exactly 'nice' – it did offer to further any interests, but Ginny didn't really believe that Pansy really wanted to get to know any of the "poor Weasels" better. Hence, the statement kind of had a sarcastic edge. Pansy and Slytherins in general put Ginny on edge. But the secretary was nodding appreciatively.

"Ah, Miss Weasel – Weasley. Never one to back down from a challenge, are you? That might get you quite far in the long run, no pun intended. Ah, but you don't really think I'd think your beautiful bro's are that attractive, eh? Well, write to them, by all means. Let them know that two random snakes are in the pit of MIT. If they know what MIT is, that is. Most wizards don't. Ah, and here I am, chattering again. Clove?"

She extended a dark tube towards Ginny. "Er… what is that, exactly?"

"Type of fag, as in you smoke it, dollface. Goodness; you're quite the innocent, aren't you?"

"Ah, Pansy," came the quicksilver voice. "Besides the fact that MIT is a non-smoking facility and that you are most definitely not allowed to have fires around so many important papers, you also really shouldn't promote your wicked ways to the hired help. Grad students are precious; can't have you pushing up her health insurance now, can we?" Malfoy turned to Ginny. "You shouldn't try those, you know. They'll make your lungs bleed." He dropped a sheath of papers on the secretary's desk, gave Ginny a considering look, and re-disappeared.

"He's got a good point." Pansy winked. Ginny was a tad flabbergasted. "Yes, yes. A Slytherin winking at a Gryffindor?" Pansy laughed at her. "Dearie, perhaps I like talking to a fellow person-who-understands-what-the-word-"Muggle"-means. But in general, you'll find that in the real world, those things don't matter. And by 'real,' I mean Muggle, specifically science. Slytherin versus Gryffindor still means plenty in the wizarding world. But here, everyone's trying for the better, physically, mentally, or whatnot. You'll probably caught up in the drive to better humanity, whether wizard or Muggle. That's real." She winked again. "Insightful, wasn't that? Well, skedaddle on now."

Ginny skedaddled accordingly. That night, after a pleasant dinner of homemade dumplings with Vickie, she wrote a letter back home.

Ron,

I'm working, and it's absolutely fantastic. The research is stellar. I'm getting really good results and might actually be able to publish a paper this year, which means a lot in the scientific world. MIT's really quite fun, and there are a lot of really funny people here. People who actually understand math and science jokes, that is, and are passionate about things other than Quidditch. Not that there's anything wrong with Quidditch, but it's a nice change. Oh, and Draco Malfoy's in charge of my lab, and Pansy Parkinson's the secretary. That said, you should all come and visit some time! It'll be highly entertaining.

Your amazingly lovable and incredibly intelligent sister,

-Ginny

PS: And no, don't be worried. They're both quite nice.

Well. The first time she'd taken a suggestion from Pansy Parkinson. But Ginny had to admit – she was curious. Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy had both changed. Would Ron trust his baby sister's own judgment, or would he be sufficiently incensed at the Malfoy-in-charge-of-Weasley situation that he'd come charging across the Atlantic Ocean? Well, even if he did, he'd soon see that the lab was wonderful, that she was happy, and that everything was hunky-dory perfect. Now, to work on that vaccine…

-iii-

A week later, Ginny received another imperial summons.

GW –

Lunch. Noon. Today.

--DM.

During their second lunch, they ate at Legal Seafoods again.

After a conversation of rather nice smalltalk, the PI sat forward suddenly. "Weasley."

"Er… yes, sir?"

"First off, don't call me 'sir.' Or Malfoy. Or 'Professor.' The one complaint I've had throughout the years is that people are scared of me. I'm trying to foster an amiable atmosphere in the laboratory, and, as is the tradition for many MIT labs, the PI's go by their first names." He grimmaced. "Which means that I'll probably have to call you 'Ginevra.' Ah well… can't be helped."

"But, sir – I mean, Malf – er… Draco? The other students call you 'Draco'?"

"Well, no… but they'll get to that point eventually." He smirked – no, not really a "smirk" – it had been replaced by a quick quirk of his lips. No malicious intent any more. Ginny wondered if she'd entered the fold, and was now part of the pack. Perhaps the smirk was reserved for outsiders.

She grinned. Honesty and first names. The great Draco Malfoy, somewhat unseated from his high horse. She was feeling more comfortable already. And, to top it all off, she was getting very good research results. In that moment, Ginny Weasley became comfortable with herself and her lab and her PI.

Malf--Draco scowled. "Now, just because I think we should use first names doesn't mean you need to get all happy, Ginevra."

"Calling me 'Ginny' is fine, actually." She laughed. "You sound like a crochety old man, Draco Malfoy. You're barely a year older than me, and you've already accomplished quite a bit. Calm down, won't you?"

He started muttering. Ginny thought she caught a "three," and a "point" and "one four one five nine…"

"Prof—Draco," she exclaimed. "Are you reciting the digits of pi?"

He blinked. She blinked back. He blinked again, and she fluttered her eyelashes for good measure. With a final blink, he winked, then leaned back in his chair with a tired smile. "Ah, Ginny Weasley. Thou art a master in scholarly recognition. Yes, pi. I enjoy pi. As a mind-balancing exercise, I often recite as many digits as I can remember. It's a calming, albeit never-ending process." Ginny almost guffawed, but settled for an inordinately large grin.

He gave her a ever-so-slightly sheepish smile, then continued, "To be honest, I haven't the slightest idea how to foster camaraderie. I've been taught to revere respect and the social hierarchy. I know that my graduate students are amazingly comfortable with each other. I don't want to intrude on that, but I feel that we could all benefit if we were… closer… to one another."

"Ah," Ginny said. "Well, all of the students really do respect you. We tend to be a bit frightened when you saunter past, but in general we trust you. If there are problems, we turn to each other first, just in case it's something obvious and so we won't make fools of ourselves in front of the PI, but we know that you'll have an answer to something if we need it. And if we need particular lab materials, we know that you'll support us, and help us make quite wise decisions. You really are quite an excellent PI, you know." She hadn't meant to be so reassuring. But if nothing, Ginny Weasley was honest. Intellectually curious and quite a chatterbox when somewhat nervous, but in general, painstakingly honest. And her PI definitely deserved all of these statements. Even if he was a Malfoy. She looked at him hesitantly. The boy she knew at Hogwarts would just throw these compliments in her face, laughing at how odd she sounded. But this Draco Malfoy seemed truly touched. She thought she heard a whisper of "Thank you," but then the waitress appeared, and dessert was served.

The following lunches consisted of a bit more blinking and insightful comments, then turned into comfortable breaks with touches of conversational glee. Malfoy told her a few tips on running a lab, grant-writing, and networking, or "schmoozing with the big boys," as he aptly put it. He praised her willingness to tackle different situations and even inquired as to how she'd even heard of fellowships in the first place. She recommended that he listen in on some of the lab conversations and regaled him with the story of Rob and Shaunna interacting on the computer. He had scoffed at the pick-up line, but she could see his eyes twinkling. He gave her advice on the various experiments she was running, and she would read over some of the various papers he was writing. She laughed at his dry wit and he grinned at her pertinent questions. They usually returned to the lab in a flurry of chuckles, serious analytical conversations, or an ongoing competition to see who could remember the most numerical units of pi.

-iii-

One day, Pansy winked at Ginny as Malfoy returned to his office. "I see your lunch date went well," she commented, smiling slyly.

"Lunch date?" Ginny laughed. She was starting to like the secretary, but sometimes Pansy could be eccentric or absurd. "The weekly meeting, as usual."

"Oh, dear. The first step to solving a problem is admitting that you've got one."

Ginny stopped short. "I beg your pardon?"

"He's hot, isn't he?"

"Er…" Well, of course, Ginny told herself mentally. Not only had he been the Slytherin Sex God, but he was also very much in shape, very young and virile, very accomplished and academic, funny, in a sarcastic-witty sort of way, passionate about what he did (here, she blushed), a good conversationalist, and incredibly intelligent. The perfect guy, if not for the fact that he was her PI. Ah, yes. And a Malfoy. Couldn't forget that crucial bit. Ron would have a hernia if he knew.

Pansy had continued. "Don't worry, dear – I'm sure that all of the students would love to sink their teeth into him. He'll probably have chickies coming up here for extra tutoring lessons soon enough."

Ginny was aghast. Her PI took advantage of students? She immediately squashed the little voice muttering, "Well, you're a student, aren't you, chickie? And would that be so bad? Nooooooo…."

Odd, how that inside-her-mind voice sounded remarkably like Pansy, who was chuckling. "Give him a little credit, won't you? He is smart, after all. And no, those visitors tend to be undergraduate teenie boppers. They'd definitely pounce on the poor ponce. And he could use a little bit of lovin', too, really. But sadly, they're not quite his type."

"Oh, really?" Ginny couldn't help retorting. "And the notorious Draco Malfoy, King of the Slytherins, has a particular type?" A retort? Goodness; Pansy always brought out either baffled stuttering Ginny or bickering smart-arse Ginny. Either one out and about wasn't quite healthy.

"Of course he does," Pansy replied loftily. "Doesn't every man?"

"Well, yes," Ginny conceded. "But Draco – that is, Prof – I mean, Draco -- I mean, he's so… intelligent and…er… cool. But, ah, in general, I can't see him settling for any one type." Stuttering Ginny again. Perhaps smart-arse Ginny was an improvement after all.

"Well," Pansy said reflectively. "He hasn't. Not quite yet. Or maybe he has. You never know." She looked at Ginny appraisingly, raking her eyes from head to toe.

Ginny sighed. "Please, Pansy," she said, shaking her head. "I know you love to check out the hired help, but I'm not a slab of meat."

Pansy purred. "Ah, but such a delicious one you'd be, dahling." She looked Ginny up and down. "As long as I look and don't touch, you won't file for sexual harassment, will you? You Weasleys are such delights for these tired ol' eyes. Yes, I know that you're the only Weasley I've seen in a while. But I'm starting to absolutely love ye olde blazing red hair. Redheads are …passionate, aren't they?" Was that a growl behind the PI's office door? Ginny's ears strained to catch any more sound, but she heard nothing else. Pansy paused, then remarked quietly, "He used to be quite the playboy, you know. And then… well, a couple of things happened." She patted Ginny's chin. "But don't you worry, dearie. I think he likes you. Maybe even more so than I do. Now shoo!"

There was a thud in the PI's inner sanctum, but Ginny had already stepped out obediently and was walking out to the lab.

"Hey, baby – I lost my genetic code. Can I have yours?" Rob accosted her in the hallway, a grin on his bespectacled face. "Did you know, there are a couple of random people walking around, probably visiting some of the labs today? One has the coolest glasses…." Then, suddenly, a stricken look graced his features. "Oh, God – Ginny… you've got to help me."

Ginny was immediately concerned. "Sure, Rob, anything. What's up?"

"This!" With that, he kissed her. Well, "kissed" was a relative term. He kind of… smushed his lips onto hers. And immediately looked up, gasped, and scampered away. Ginny looked after him, startled. She heard a bang as the door to the men's bathroom slammed shut. "Hmm…" she said to herself, wiping her mouth with the back of her shirt sleeve. "Well, that was strange." Then she turned around

…and was immediately blocked by a chest. She stumbled, startled, and hands came around to grip her arms. It was a very nice chest, actually. Broad, but not overly so. A hint of wiry muscularity, adorned with a white button-down shirt, and a dark green tie with a silver embroidered snake. Uh Oh.

Ginny looked up, and met the eyes of a particularly livid Professor Draco Malfoy.

"Ginny Weasley," he said icily. "I came out here to correct any lies Pansy might've spread, and to apologize for Pansy's infuriating teasing or any disrespect she might've accosted you with, but I see you were being comforted by quite another means." His eyes flashed angrily. "I won't tolerate inter-laboratory relationships between my graduate students," he growled. "Not only does it harbor mooning and a lack of concentration at work, but it can promote unsavory liaisons in place of good honest work. And Weasley, a smart and beautiful scientist like you needs a truly worthy guy, not a scatterbrained computer geek with a penchant for dorky pick-up lines who looks like Harry effing Potter. I'm so sick of intelligent girls going for completely crass bungholes. You should know better. Stop pining over him!"

"I wasn't pining!" Ginny said indignantly, her mind whirling with her PI's raging ramble. "And, if you must know, Rob just told me that he had a problem, and then he kissed me! And then he ran away! To the bathroom! So obviously, you have nothing to worry about in the way of inter-graduate-student-relations, since I'm not even worth any explanations and guys feel sick when they kiss me in the first place!" She was yelling now. And she was talking in italics. Oh dear Lord. "And Pansy didn't really offend me; in fact, since no one looks at me in a remotely checking-out sort of way, it's just-this-side of vaguely flattering!" Her lack-of-a-love-life was not supposed to be aired out in a public hallway. How very embarrassing. And not only had she been caught kissing a guy who didn't even want to kiss her and who was obviously very worried about something or psychotically crazy, but she was also yelling at her PI. "And anyway, Rob doesn't really look like Harry! He's Asian!" And then she was tearing up. She'd had such awful bad luck with men, really. Especially Harry. Though they were quite good chums now, it was an awful sore spot, really.

"Weasley, stop crying," Malfoy said gruffly.

"And don't call me 'Weasley'!" She cried. "What about that intra-laboratorial camaraderie? I'm not trying to ruin your lab, I'm just trying to get my work done, and I have no idea why guys run away when they kiss me!"

Through her tears, she didn't quite catch the corners of her professor's mouth twitch up. "Ah, a profoundly scientific dilemma, Weas--Ginny. Perhaps we should analyze this situation."

Ginny blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

And then his mouth was on hers. Wow. As in, wowie-zowie-bipsmackity-goodness-with-a-cherry-on-top-zing-whoa-baby-WoW! His lips were hot, molten-magma-lava-hot, definitely at odds with his initially-icy demeanor. And Ginny found herself responding, tangling experimental fingers in her PI's soft white-blond hair. Yes! She definitely a crush on him. A huge admiration, physical-chemical attraction, intellectual connection, full-out crush. Verifiable in a very much physically obvious way. Gradually, as her crush crushed her against the poster-covered wall, his wonder-lips soothed to a smooth, cool-but-spicy sensation, like dark chocolate gelato with a dash of cinnamon sugar quills. Funny, that. Ginny loved dark chocolate and cinnamon. Weird combo, but oddly perfect. His hands had slid down her trembling arms, wrapping around her T-shirt enclosed waist. Was one inching towards her heinie? She decided that she didn't care. His scholarly-long fingers hitched into one belt loop of her patchworked jeans, and his other hand grasped the back of her neck, massaging her scalp as he slowly eased away. His perfect aquiline profile barely brushed her button-nose as he gave her a slow, lazy, definitely sexy smile.

"Now then," he murmured, tracing a finger along her cheek. "How can I know so many digits of pi and not the digits of your phone number?"

Through passion-frazzled eyelashes, Ginny grinned up at him. He was just so… unabashedly smart. And sexy. Yet dorky. And cool --

"Get your hands off her, you wanker!"

The two scientists, PI and student, sprang apart. Ginny groaned.

"Hello, Ron."

-iii-

hehe Evil? No, not quite.

(Note#1: Legal Seafoods is a chain of restaurants that serves many delectable seafood dishes. There really is a restaurant literally across the street from MIT's main campus.)

(Note#2: Post-docs are post-doctoral fellows. If you want to go into academic research, then after you earn a PhD, you usually need to spend some more time researching in a laboratory, but this time with the status of a post-doc. Post-docs are expected to know a lot, be able to conduct their own research, and write lots of papers. The PI helps by guiding them and providing facilities for them to conduct research.)

(Note#3: Assays are usually experimental procedures used to detect various things; you can run an assay to detect a particular protein, a particular gene, the expression of a gene, etc. Fellowships are like scholarships. You have to apply to various scientific organizations like the NSF or NIH and, if you're lucky, they'll fund your research. Otherwise, the lab PI has to pay both your student tuition and the stipend; graduate students are paid to work in the labs. Graduate students also typically get 'free' health insurance.)

(Note#3.14159….: Pi (π) is an infinitely repeating irrational number, specifically used in mathematical equations that determine the area of a circle (Area pi(radius)2).)

(Note#4: I've been an avid fan of echo and whereistruth for quite some time, and their various renditions of Pansy Parkinson were my faves. My version of Pansy has been influenced accordingly. Also, according to SkoosiePants, Draco's favorite food is pie. I figured that dorky Draco would enjoy a bit of mathematical pi in the mix. ;))

(Note#5: The chapter titles are the same headings that you'd find in many scientific research papers; that is, "Introduction," "Materials and Methods," "Results." The next ones will be "Discussion," and hopefully "Conclusion." If you'd like to read the background-informational/pilot-episode "Abstract," please refer to my livejournal: http/ www . livejournal . com / users / twiddlekinks (sorry for the odd spacing; there aren't any spaces in the URL, but Fanfic . Net is distorting it when I type it in).

And the whole story's listed in the "Memories" section, also: http / www . livejournal . com / tools / memories. bml? usertwiddlekinks&keywordFic + LongStories+ PhD + 28HP+ Draco/Ginny29 & filterall

I tend to post updates on the LJ, too, so feel free to comment there, as well:))

Goodness; this story's humble beginnings were a passing thought in the shower one day, and I'm so glad that people actually find it amusing. :oD I hope this post has answered some of your questions, and if there are math jokes, I'll try to explain them in the author's notes. ;) (haha And I'm a bio-major-turning-biomedical-engineer, so my math's a bit rusty, but the dorkic humor is still quite fervently alive.)