Chapter Three

"One in four women experience some kind of physical abuse in their lifetime." I threw my notes onto the table. "Over twenty percent of them experience it by a partner. And the Ministry wants to throw these women into such a vulnerable position? Can you believe that?"

Theo briefly glanced up from my most recent interview with the Prophet, now used to my occasional outbursts over the past two weeks. "I'm sure the Ministry will be able to spin it positively," he observed. "The number is comparatively low."

I scowled. "But it shouldn't be happening at all." I stretched, glancing at the darkening sky through the glass windows of Theo's office at Malfoy Enterprises. "Don't you have any plans tonight?"

"I'll make plans once we're finished," Theo told me with a shrug, then returned to making notes in the margins of the newspaper.

I was about to ask him why that was the case when I realised there was a very uncomfortable pressure mounting below my stomach, and that my bladder was on the verge of bursting - I'd barely gotten up from my seat all afternoon. "Sure. I'll be back."

After my quick dash to the bathroom, I took my time returning to the office. We'd been at this for days - whenever we both had time to spare - and I hated hanging about the office during busy work hours, but now that everyone had gone home there was something strangely peaceful about the place. I lingered in the lobby, taking some time to admire the space when there weren't harried witches and wizards running about at the Malfoys' beck and call. The city of London glittered against the windows in the twilight, almost whimsically, and I thought I mightn't mind working in an office if I could find somewhere as nice as this.

"It's an important point."

I was startled by a voice, and I turned to see Draco Malfoy watching me, his stance casual as he leant against the reception desk.

I tried to hide my surprise at seeing him here so late in the evening. "Pardon?"

"The figures you were quoting for physical abuse. It doesn't matter that they're low; it matters that pushing people into relationships is likely to make the numbers rise."

I eyed him from where I stood in the middle of his office. "Thank you," I said shortly.

"And maybe you should think about getting more involved in local communities, for your image," Malfoy said, then smirked at me. "I attend several charity events each month, you know."

He didn't sound like he was trying to insult me - much - but Merlin I wanted to wipe that smirk off his face. "Okay, enough of the bragging. Why are you trying to help me?"

"Just because I can't finance your cause, it doesn't mean that I can't offer you support behind closed doors. Besides which, I'm rather a self-taught expert in image building."

I wasn't in the mood to feel sympathetic towards Malfoy, so I ignored his latter remark. "Right, because that's what you Malfoys are so good at: cloak and dagger operations."

He looked taken aback, but for some reason didn't rise to my baiting, and I couldn't help my scowl. "You know, if you were the slightest bit nicer then perhaps people would want to rally behind you."

My scowl deepened. "Look, Malfoy, just because I'm not the type of simpering witch you're used to doesn't mean I'm not nice. A woman's main purpose in life isn't to please men."

My remark seemed to amuse him. "Hasn't anyone ever told you that you catch more flies with honey?"

"Hasn't anyone ever told you that you're a wanker?"

"They haven't, believe it or not, but I'll be sure to take that feedback on board." Malfoy put his hands in his pockets and seemed to give me a meaningful look. "You can't handle criticism."

"Please," I said, rolling my eyes. "I don't dish out anything I can't take."

Malfoy lifted a broad shoulder. "What if I said that I find you to be churlish and abrasive?"

"I don't accept criticism from biased parties," I told him, crossing my arms.

He actually laughed at that, and I felt my eye twitch in my effort not to react; his laughter sounded unnatural. "Ms Weasley, if that isn't the pot calling the kettle black, I don't know what is."

My fists clenched, and I was seriously considering letting them fly, when Theo came out of his office. Theo glanced between the two of us. "I was going to order some dinner," he said slowly.

I glared at Malfoy a moment longer before turning to Theo. "Fine," I said - a little too flippantly - then waved a hand at Theo. "Whatever."

I stormed back to Theo's office and forcefully slid the door shut behind me, but it bounced back off the hinge and stayed slightly ajar. There was no movement outside, and out of curiosity I peeked around the door to watch Malfoy as he stood in the reception area a moment longer, hands in pockets, expression speculative. When he turned toward his office Theo was still there, with crossed arms and a furrowed brow; the office was so quiet I could hear them easily.

"Did you just-"

"Yes," Malfoy interrupted, swiftly brushing past Theo, towards his own office.

I watched, confused, as Theo kept pace with him easily, the whole way up the corridor, and I got another whiff of that expensive-smelling cologne when the two of them breezed past Theo's door.

"And that seemed like a good idea because..."

"It's none of your business," Malfoy replied, then stepped into his office and began to close the door. Theo raised a hand, stopping the door's path and allowing a gap just wide enough for me to see Malfoy's profile as he stood at the door staring Theo down.

"We're at work, Draco," Theo observed - slyly, I thought - propping himself up in the doorway. "Seems fairly business related to me."

"Looks can be deceiving," Malfoy replied rudely, then shut the door in Theo's face.

"Wanker," I muttered, somewhat glad that Malfoy had returned to a personality I was used to. I returned to my seat, propping my feet up on the chair opposite mine, the picture of innocence.

Theo entered the room a moment later, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Problem?" I asked blithely.

Theo sighed in exasperation, and I rounded up a small amount of pity for his being forced to work with Draco Malfoy. Really, Malfoy was an utter prick and I was shocked that - allegedly - no one had brought this to his attention during his twenty-seven years.

"Draco was just trying to help, you know." Theo picked up the Prophet, seemingly having forgotten about dinner. "He dislikes these laws as much as we do."

I scowled, miffed that he was attempting to defend Malfoy. "I'll handle dinner," I told him, standing.

"Thanks," he said, his eyes not leaving the Prophet. An outraged sound stopped me just as I reached the door. "For Merlin's sake, Weasley, are you a closet sociopath, or something? Because you literally can't do a thing right."

"Pardon?" I asked, bristling.

"The Prophet," he said, and I relaxed a fraction. "'Ginevra Weasley proves to be a greater menace when put on a leash, if her perfectly rehearsed lines are any indication.'"

"Ugh, I hate it when they call me Ginevra. Rita Skeeter?"

"Romilda Vane. Really, I can't believe someone signed off on that by-line." Theo glanced up and must have noticed my wry smile; he raised an eyebrow in question.

"Romilda has it in for me," I began explaining the theory Hermione, Luna and I had come up with when the rash of bad press had started at the beginning of my career. "She had a huge thing for Harry when we were in school; the only thing that made her hate me more than being Harry's girlfriend was my refusing to be his fiancée. As for Rita Skeeter, well, as far as I can tell she's just a bitch."

Theo raised a brow. "If you're going to run with this 'feminism' routine, you should probably try not to insult other women like that."

"It's not a routine." I rolled my eyes at him. "And I can't help it; I speak the truth."

Theo looked at me speculatively. "Right... Well. I suppose we'll need to do something about that," he said, gesturing to the article.

I sighed. "I'll be back in ten minutes," I said, then left Theo to his scheming.

xxxxx

The next day, I knew it was time to smooth over the situation at home.

After I'd completed my morning exercise, I scribbled a note to Theo that I wouldn't meet him at the office until late. I'd made sure to have a number of appointments lined up that afternoon so I'd have an excuse to leave if Mum gave me a hard time: first to visit Hermione, who was on strict bed rest thanks to her Healer, then back to Malfoy Enterprises. With my note to Theo written and sent, I'd run out of ways to stall my departure, so with an apprehensive sigh I apparated to The Burrow.

When my feet landed on the uneven gravel of the narrow lane in front of our house, I felt a familiar sense of contentment at the thought of sitting down to a cup of tea and a plate of biscuits in the kitchen, despite my trepidation at seeing Mum. As much I loved my cottage, it was nothing compared to home. I inhaled deeply, taking in the distant scent of fresh manure from Mum's vegetable garden - and the distinct smell of oil that could only be coming from Dad's workshop.

I opened the rickety old gate and began walking up the jagged path to the house, and with perfect timing Mum came out to meet me - she must have been watching the clock like a hawk all morning.

"What are you doing in this weather without a jumper?" was the first thing she said to me while she wiped her hands on her apron, and I couldn't help my grin.

"Nice to see you too, Mum." I gave her a hug before she ushered me inside.

"You're far too pale," Mum continued as she sat me down at the kitchen table, then went to put on the kettle. "Have you been eating enough? Did you try the casserole recipe I owled you last week?"

I squirmed under her sharp eye - I was pretty sure I'd used that parchment as emergency toilet paper already – ignoring the fact I wasn't confident that I knew how to safely turn the oven on. "Um. I haven't had a chance, yet."

Mum made a 'tsking' sound, as she began putting together a plate of food for me. I couldn't help but notice that she'd made my favourite lemon cake, the one she normally only made as a treat for my birthday.

I narrowed my eyes at her. "Mum, what's the special occasion?"

"What?" She asked defensively, as the kettle finished boiling and she began spooning tea leaves into a teapot. "I can't bake for my own daughter?"

"Mum." I stood up and went to her side, taking the canister out of her hands and setting it on the bench. She didn't turn to face me, only braced herself against the countertop. "Have you been following the news this past week?"

She looked up at me then, her expression exasperated. "Well of course I have, Ginny." She gestured to the kitchen table, where I noticed she had started using copies of the Prophet as a mat for the fruit bowl. "I have reasonably high chances of one of my children showing up in one rag or another every other week."

I blushed. Mum didn't approve of my career choice, though she was endlessly proud of my success, but she was often made aware of the bad press I received; unfortunately, my brothers weren't nearly as well behaved as I was. I was never sure when she'd resigned herself to that fact, but I had a hunch that it had something to do with the great Weasley brawl on my twenty first birthday. "Mum, I'm so sorry-"

"Oh, stop it." She set her hands on her hips stubbornly. "I'm not angry with you."

Relief washed over me, though I was sceptical. "You're not?"

"Don't be ridiculous. I know my daughter, and unfortunately I know Rita Skeeter," Mum's expression darkened. "That witch will write anything for a knut; and I don't have much to say for that Vane girl either."

I grinned before wrapping my arms around her, feeling as though a weight had been lifted from my chest. "I love you, Mum."

"I love you too, sweetheart." I could tell she was pleased since this kind of affection was rare from her children these days, now that we'd all grown up. "What are you going to do about it?"

I sighed. "I'm working on it, I swear, but I'm not sure that it's going to help much at all."

She shook her head, and went back to preparing the tea. "I'm not worried about the press; I'm worried about the laws. I know I can be hard on you, but I don't want you to be forced into anything you don't want to do."

"I know. I don't want to settle for anything less than what you and Dad have," I said honestly, my smile somewhat rueful. "But I feel a bit like I'm trying to fly away from a tornado, right now. Everyone refuses to take me seriously."

"I don't need to tell you that bad press isn't going to help you at all," Mum told me sharply as she handed me my usual chipped mug. "Aren't there people that handle this kind of thing professionally?"

I groaned, slumping down into my seat at the table. "No. I haven't needed any help with Public Relations before, and I do not need them now. I can't stand those 'know-it-all' types, or being bossed around like a child."

"Ginny, you say you haven't needed help in the past, but look where that's gotten you." She sighed in exasperation, then removed a copy of the Prophet from under the fruit bowl and slapped it on the table in front of me. To my chagrin, a picture of Draco Malfoy smirked up at me. "'Malfoys Invest Millions In The Education Of The Underprivileged.' Draco Malfoy doesn't seem to have any problems with the paper, and look where he came from."

I scowled down at Draco Malfoy's stupid, pointed face with his ridiculously coifed hair as he mocked me with that bloody annoying smirk. "Mum, it's Draco Malfoy."

"Exactly, Ginny. If Draco Malfoy can have Rita Skeeter and all of those good-for-nothing reporters hailing him as the 'Pollux Black of our time,' I don't see why they can't have just one nice thing to say about you." She looked at Draco's picture contemplatively. "I wouldn't be surprised if they awarded him an Order of Merlin soon enough."

I crossed my arms and slumped back into my chair, more annoyed at Draco bloody Malfoy than ever.

xxxxx

I began to stall leaving for Malfoy Enterprises after I finished my third cup of tea by Hermione's bedside, where she sat propped against a mountain of pillows. After my visit with Mum this morning I couldn't seem to get Draco Malfoy out of my head.

"You seem distracted," Hermione observed, and I became very interested in the fraying hem of my shirt by consequence. "You haven't told me how you're going with the laws yet."

Of course I hadn't told her; then I'd have to explain Draco Malfoy and why I couldn't seem to stop thinking about the smug bastard. "Oh, you know, as well as can be expected. Theo has been a great help."

Hermione tilted her head. "I was wondering about that, actually. Why is it that Theodore Nott, of all people, is so ready to drop everything and help you with this?"

I tapped my finger against the side of my mug, reluctant to admit that I'd been wondering the same thing for a while now. "Maybe he's gay," I said, then took a sip of my nearly-cold tea. Hermione frowned, as though she were genuinely mulling the idea over. "That was a joke," I verified.

"Well, nevertheless, I don't know that you've made much progress with your interviews," she said tartly and gestured to today's copy of the Prophet beside her. "Thank Merlin that Draco Malfoy's donation managed to make front page and not your pre-match interview for this weekend's game."

"Draco Malfoy!" I exclaimed, setting my mug down heavily on the bed side table. "If everyone loves Draco bloody Malfoy so bloody much, why don't they go submit a bloody application to marry him!"

Hermione stared at me, eyes wide. "Ginny?"

I leapt to my feet, angrily pacing about the room. "Draco Malfoy is so perfect! Everyone loves Draco Malfoy!" I stopped abruptly, throwing my hands into the air. "What's so bloody good about Draco bloody Malfoy?"

"Well, off the top of my head, he probably doesn't yell at bed-ridden, pregnant women, and he definitely doesn't get unreasonably angry at the drop of a hat."

I raked my hands through my hair and tilted my head back, staring at the ceiling and praying for mercy. "I'm sorry, Hermione, but first my mum happily climbed aboard the Draco Malfoy Express this morning, and now you have, too. Besides, the smug bastard actually had the gall to offer his 'services' to me last night."

Hermione was silent a moment, and I tilted my head so I could look at her from the corner of my eye. "Ginny, you know I love you like a sister, but you're acting like a lunatic. If Draco Malfoy wants to help you, you'd have to be out of your mind to say no."

"It feels more like I'm the only one who is sane," I said defensively.

She crossed her arms, looking me directly in the eye. "What is so awful about Draco Malfoy?"

"Really? You need me to explain this to you? He's the meanest, most bigoted wizard on the face of the earth; he comes from a family of Death Eaters, for Merlin's sake!"

"Ginny, do you listen to yourself? You're calling him a bigot while accusing him of being a bad person because his family exercised poor judgement ten years ago?"

Malfoy's words from the previous day came back to me, and my face heated in embarrassment. "That's not what I meant, Hermione."

She rolled her eyes. "But that's exactly how it sounds. You're willing to risk your entire future because this man was mean when we were in school? Draco and Lucius are two entirely different people."

"I'm not risking anything," I told her firmly. "I can do this without his help."

Hermione picked up her copy of the Prophet and turned a few pages, before reading aloud: "'Harpies' star chaser threatens opposing team: 'Feminists will take over the world.'"

"That's a misquote!"

"Ginny, it doesn't matter. The point is you need a friend, someone who has contacts and who is well-liked by the Press." I opened my mouth to speak, but she held up a hand. "Theodore Nott does not have the star-power you need."

I stared at her, silently, attempting to formulate a counter-argument. She held my gaze, arms still crossed, but I was the first to look away as I collapsed back into my chair, defeated, then leant forward so my elbows rested against my knees. "Why do you have to be so damn reasonable about everything?"

"Because you're too busy steamrolling everyone to notice that they can help you." She reached forward to pat my thigh. "Now, you better get back to Malfoy Enterprises so you can ask Draco for his help."

xxxxx

AN: As ever, I am eternally grateful to Hannah Askance and idreamofdraco for their beta services. You are both amazing, and this story would not be nearly as good as it is without your objective eyes and invaluable advice. Thank you for keeping Ginny in character and for keeping me sane!

Thank you, as well, to everyone who has reviewed this fic and given me such amazing encouragement to continue. I'm sorry that the updates are so few and far between, but I hope that this chapter (and the chapters to come) lives up to your expectations.