Tears of the Flame

3

"His name," came a cool voice, causing her stop in her tracks, "is Draco Malfoy."

One thought popped into Ginny's mind as she heard those words.

Oh shit.

It was, she supposed, like the feeling you get when you're knocked off your broom in quidditch and are heading towards the ground at breakneck speed and you know it's really, really going to hurt when you hit, but there's nothing you can do about it. A hundred times worse though, because this was Draco Malfoy and he was standing right in front of her, his customary smirk in place.

And he looked good.

His white-blond hair, so often slicked back at school, had been allowed to sit freely, so that it fell just above his ears in a relaxed, tousled manner that contrasted almost endearingly to the sharp, slick manner in which he presented himself. He seemed to have grown in to his features with age, the sharp angles of his face seeming to be not nearly as hard as they had been on his seventeen year old self. His skin was still flawlessly pale, and his eyes remained the same piercing silver orbs they had always been, mysterious, captivating, and with the ability to make a hundred women fall at his feet. He was dressed sharply in a crisp black suit, his expensive velvet dress robes thrown casually over the top.

After Dumbledore's death, no one had seen or heard from either Snape or Malfoy until both reappeared on the night of the final battle, leading Voldemort's closest circle of death eaters right into the Order's hands and proceeding to turn against them. In the death eater trials that followed, Alastor Moody of all people stood up as a witness to give evidence of their allegiance to the order and their status as double agents. Moody had ignored the look of shock on members of the order's faces and had proceeded to explain how Dumbledore had kept a secure record of his dealings with Snape in the form of his pensieve. This had been delivered to Moody the day after Dumbledore's funeral by Fawkes and, after carefully studying its contents, he had been able to understand the full extent of Dumbledore's plans for defeating Voldemort and had contacted Snape at the hiding place which had been indicated in the pensieve. Both Snape and Malfoy had been integral to the order's triumph ever since he had argued, without detailing too many of their activities, and should both be released with a full pardon. Moody's influence had, at this point, become so powerful after his tremendous efforts in the fight against Voldemort, that the jury had taken his words to heart and done exactly as he had asked

Since then, Malfoy had been working hard to make his name profitable once more. Lucius Malfoy had been killed a few months after Dumbledore's death and Narcissa had died soon after. Despite their obvious allegiance with Voldemort, many of their assets had been accumulated through legal means, or at least, no one was willing to step forward and provide evidence to suggest otherwise. As such, their property had remained in their name and Draco, being the sole heir, had inherited Malfoy Manor and the businesses in which his father had invested the year after the wars end. His consummate business skills had seen his influence extend across many spheres of the wizarding world and after eight years at the helm of the Malfoy Empire, he had tripled his father's fortune and carved his name firmly into his family's history.

Yet, it wasn't just Malfoy's brilliant and shrewd instincts when it came to money which raised his profile. Snape and Draco's trials had been front page news during the post-war period, and their eventual release had gone quite someway to restore the tarnished Malfoy image and the negative connotations associated with the name. Overnight, Draco had become immortalized as a brave young soul who had escaped his evil parents influence to eventually help good triumph over evil and bring down one of the greatest monsters known to wizard kind. His fame had reached heights almost as great as Harry's but that is where the similarities had ended. Unlike Harry's modest acknowledgment that perhaps he had done a little to help defeat Voldemort and his great dislike of the press, Draco had used every opportunity to capitalize on his newfound fame. He had endeared himself to the press by gladly holding huge press conferences followed by elaborate parties where food and firewhisky had flowed freely. As a result, both the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly portrayed him as the ultimate bachelor, and he was constantly inundated with beautiful women and never short of a date. It was a well-known fact that Belinda Fanning absolutely adored him and never once let a bad word about him go to print. That fact alone was enough to infuriate Ginny.

Taking a deep breath and reminding herself that she was now as rich and well-renowned as he, Ginny straightened her back and lifted her eyes to meet his with a steady resolve.

"Mr. Malfoy," she said sweetly. "What a pleasure to meet you."

His cool eyes surveyed her slowly for a moment, making her feel oddly uncomfortable. Slowly, he reached out to take her hand in his and without breaking eye contact, lifted it up and pressed it gently to his lips. The brief contact stirred something in Ginny which she would really prefer not to think about and despite her best attempts; she could not resist a small shiver. If possible, this only served to make Malfoy's smirk even more smug.

"Miss Weasley."

His voice was very deep and very refined, the kind Ginny had seen in the classic muggle romance videos she and Hermione had once spent a weekend watching. As he let go of her hand, Ginny had to resist the urge to take a step backwards. An astute business woman herself after her years of running Princess, Ginny knew there was one cardinal rule – never let the other person know or think that they have the upper hand.

In this case of course, even a flobberworm could have been able to see that she was failing miserably.

Trying desperately to regain any last vestige of composure that she possessed, Ginny ignored the enticing scent of Malfoy's cologne and the slight gleam of triumph in his eyes which suggested he knew he was getting to her and launched straight into a speech on the company's financial profile and the revenue they had set aside for advertising purposes. Malfoy listened patiently for about two minutes, as if to indulge her, before interrupting with a wave of his hand.

"Now, now Miss Weasley," he chided slightly mockingly, as if talking to a small child. "A party as fine as this is hardly appropriate for such tedious negotiations. I suggest we do it properly. Over dinner perhaps?" He nodded towards Anne, who had followed Ginny over and asked, "Next Monday perhaps? Seven o'clock?" Amy shuffled quickly through a small diary she held before replying with a curt nod and scribbling the date in.

Seemingly rather pleased with himself, Malfoy turned back to Ginny, who had stood slightly dumbfounded during the exchange. "It's settled then. I'll have my assistant call yours with the details."

He took her hand and brought it slowly to his lips once more.

"Until then," he said softly, turning on his heel, before turning back quickly. "Oh, and Weasley, do me a favour and wear one of your gorgeous gowns will you? I'm sure seeing some of your wears on a figure as stunning as yours will greatly aid my understanding of your company." He winked rakishly at her before moving back and disappearing into the crowd.

Ginny, seemingly puzzled by the turn of events watched his retreating back for a moment before turning back to Anne.

"What the hell just happened?"

…

"I simply don't understand the need for all these ridiculous measures!" Ginny ranted to Anne as she sat in her office watching a bottle of Madam Rosmerta's finest elderflower wine.

Anne shrugged and patted Ginny's shoulder reassuringly. "I'm sure he has his reasons," she soothed for what must have been the seventy-second time that day. "He is a very prominent wizard after all. He probably doesn't want the press following him around all the time."

"Maybe…" Ginny consented slightly bitterly. "But I still don't like that he's taking charge in all of this. And telling me how to dress! Who does he think he is?"

Anne replied with a half-hearted "Mmm…" while absentmindedly continuing to pat Ginny's shoulder sympathetically.

Ginny had been on edge all week, ever since Malfoy had come in smoothly and orchestrated the meeting like he was in complete control of the situation. He was, of course, and it irked Ginny to no end that she had let him assume such a position. Anne had had to deal with the brunt of Ginny's frustration, listening patiently while she agonized over where he would be taking her and what on earth he was trying to achieve. Business such as this were usually dealt with by more subordinate members of the company, and all Ginny was usually required to do was exchange mere pleasantries with the head of the other company, perhaps five minutes of conversation, an act which was more for show, than to serve any real purpose. Why Malfoy insisted on dragging this charade of small-talk into dinner was beyond Ginny, and she had spent the last seven days expressing just that.

Ginny was about to launch into another full-on rant when the wine bottle on her desk began to glow.

"He's late," Ginny muttered. "It's 7:03."

Anne rolled her eyes and stood up. "Come on," she said, taking Ginny's hand and pulling her up. "Time to get this thing done."

Ginny sighed, but allowed herself to be pulled over to the desk. "Now," Anne instructed, "Malfoy's assistant said that all you had to do was touch the portkey and everything will waiting for you on your arrival."

"And he didn't say where I was being taken to?" Ginny asked again for the hundredth time.

Anne let out an exasperated sigh. "Ginny, just touch the stupid portkey."

Turning to stick her tongue out at her assistant in a childish manner, Ginny reluctantly placed her hand on the bottle and felt the inevitable tug behind her navel before the bland beige walls of her office disappeared.

She landed with a slight thump, but just managed to keep her balance by grabbing onto the first thing she could reach, which turned out to be the mantle of one of the finest fireplaces she had ever seen. The whole room, in fact, spoke of understated elegance and class, from the marble finishing to the thick, wine-red drapes that stretched along one side of the room. Looking around in amazement, Ginny felt utterly relieved at her choice of clothing, a midnight blue, strapless number made of the finest silk which fit snugly to her upper half, then flowed out gently from the waist, stopping just above her knees to reveal her long, slender legs. Her hair, usually pulled back nearly in a demure chignon while she was working, had been allowed to flow freely, the gentle waves brushing over her shoulders and finishing halfway down her back.

Ginny was surveying the scene around her with admiration, wondering how on earth she had managed to miss dining at such a fine establishment, when the soft sound of footsteps caused her to turn towards the ornately carved wooden doors.

Draco Malfoy entered the room slowly, as if enjoying the chance to make an impressionable entrance, and Ginny had the brief thought that if she'd though he looked good before, that was nothing compared to how he looked now. His hair fell loosely so that one lock brushed slightly over his forehead. He wore tailored charcoal pants which had evidently been made to fit and a crisp white shirt unbuttoned slightly and rolled at the sleeves to reveal his strong, muscular arms. He stopped in the doorway and leaned on the doorjamb in a relaxed manner, surveying her slowly, almost causing her to shiver under the intense scrutiny of his gaze. When he finally lifted his eyes to meet hers, he smirked slightly and raised an eyebrow. "Not bad."

Ginny narrowed her eyes slightly and crossed her arm in a defensive manner. "If I remember correctly Malfoy, we came here to discuss business, not so you could treat me like eye-candy. Now, if you would be so kind as to lead me into the restaurant so we could get this started?"

Malfoy nodded his head consentingly towards her. "As you wish madam," he said, waving his hand with a flourish towards the doors. "Welcome to Malfoy Manor."

…

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