Millicent had truly intended to buy a new set of robes before her three days was up but with a terrible flu that tore through the Daily Prophet, she had no time at all. She had been left writing almost the entire paper, from the weather report all the way to the Quidditch Quarterly report that only went out once a year.

While it was flattering to have her talent recognized by the heads of the Daily Prophet, she was exhausted by the time Sunday hit. Luckily, she had requested this Sunday off in advance which that gave her a chance to sleep in. It was nearly ten in the morning before her eyes fluttered open.

After draining several cups of the vilest coffee ever made (compliments of the house elf she had inherited from her parents), she took a long, hot bath before scouring her closet for something, anything suitable to wear. The black robes were too somber…the green ones were too low cut for a first meeting (and looked positively Slytherin). Even her favorite royal purple robes didn't quite seem to fit the bill. Digging around, she found a long box shoved in the very back. She smiled at her find; a set of wine red robes that had been a gift from a former flame. He had been too insistent and Millicent was not interested in wearing anything he gave her.

Now, though, red seemed very appropriate. The robes themselves were made of a light, shimmering material that caught the light in an array of fascinating ways. They were simply cut, nothing low or flashy. Not to mention that it brought out her rosy red lips and the natural red highlight of her dark brown hair. Perfect.

Fred had never been very worried about being on time. As a matter of act, his records from Hogwarts recounted at least five-hundred tardies in seven years. It was quite an impressive number, sure, but today he knew he had to be on time.

Pig—who was now a much older, less-peppy owl—played alarm clock as he dropped the Daily Prophet on Fred's face. With a hearty curse, Fred pulled the heavy Sunday paper apart and immediately tossed aside everything but the Quidditch Quarterly. He had waited an entire year for this!

The section was thick, much thicker than it had been in past years, and Fred was impressed with how easy he got through it. Often times the paper made him sleepy with all its numbers and facts; there were too many words and not enough action!

Well, the way that—he squinted at the tiny name in the corner—Marlene Braedenstock wrote, he liked it.

With a stifled yawn, Fred took a look at the clock. It was just a hair after ten in the morning, he had two hours to take a bath (or at least cast a decent cleaning charm), eat, and head off the Zonko's to meet his 'mystery woman'.

A cocky smile spread over his face as he rolled out of bed. Ah, a new day and a new lady to warm his bed (gods willing). Life was good.

Dressing was usually an easy task for Fred; if it smelled clean, he wore it. If it didn't, he added it to the giant pile of dirty robes he had amassed in the last month. Soon he'd have to send it to the Burrow to be laundered; his mother always feigned anger and annoyance but he'd still get his robes back, clean and neatly pressed.

Today, however, was no ordinary day…he had a woman to impress! He didn't think dress robes were acceptable nor should he appear too anxious by wearing really expensive silk robes either. He settled for a black set that only had one hole…and it wasn't that noticeable.

Stepping away, he stared at himself in the mirror…his red hair was getting long. Not as long as Bill's, of course, but he could tie it back in a little ponytail. Grabbing a comb, he smoothed the places that were sticking up, cast a charm to make it stay that way and smiled at his reflection. "You're bloody hot, Fred," He smirked.

Making his way back to the bedroom, he picked up the long box that held the latest Fred Weasley joke: Ballooning Butt Butter. It tasted just like real butter, and if you ingest it, it makes your butt grow to five times its size for up to four hours! He laughed, thinking of how much fun they could've had at Hogwarts with this little number…

Still sniggering, he closed the door behind him and apparated away with a loud 'pop'.

Makeup charms were not all they were cut out to be, and Millicent had given up trying after she came out looking like a hooker. Instead, she added a small amount of rouge to her cheeks and applied some muggle lipstick that one of her co-workers had been selling. Her husband was a muggle, their daughter a squib and she relied on the illusion that she sold makeup products all over Europe to earn her salary.

Millicent never understood why she would lie to someone she cared for…until she went to her meeting with Fred Weasley.

It was just before noon and she noticed that Winifred Zonko, the old jokester's wife, was manning the shop front. When Millicent entered, she smiled and made her way over to the toy wands. Every child wanted a toy wand this year, they were all the rage. Unfortunately, they were extremely expensive due to the importation restrictions that the ministry put on them.

However, Millicent was the sole heir to the Bulstrode fortune and had no one to spend the money on. She lived in a modest flat on the outskirts of Knockturn Alley, just an apparition away from her job, made an honest salary and lived a quiet life. She had sold Bulstrode Manor and also had acquired assets from a sizeable inheritance from Augustus Flint. In short she was one of the richest witches in the entire world.

She didn't want that, though; she wanted regular, normal life.

Reaching up, she pulled three wands from the display, a pink one, a blue one and a purple one. Making her way over to the counter, she gently pulled her purse from her robes. It was then that she heard his voice in the backroom…his raucous laughter mixed with Zonko's wheezing chuckle.

"Can you imagine someone like Millicent Bulstrode ingesting this, Zonk? A butt like that, five times the size? It'll be the hit of the shop! The kids'll love it!" He barked with laughter.

Her heart leapt into her throat when she heard that, her cheeks flaming as she busied herself with digging out galleons. "I would like to donate these three toy wants to the Orphans of the Great War." She said, meeting the woman's gaze.

Winifred's mouth dropped open as she pushed the empty donation box toward her, "You're an angel, a real angel! Bless you, child! Bless you!" Tears filled her eyes as she reached over the desk and enveloped Millicent in a tight hug. "ZEKE!" She yelled, her voice cracking with tears. "Come out here! You must meet Miss…" She looked puzzled for a moment, "What's your name, dear?"

Fred Weasley's face appeared seconds before Zeke Zonko's did, staring at the girl looking frightfully embarrassed, still clutched in Winifred's arms.

"Marlene, ma'am…" She said coolly, the lie rolling off her tongue, "Marlene Braedenstock." Awkwardly, she patted the woman's arm. "I'm no angel, Madame Zonko. I hope the orphans enjoy their wands."

Zonko's eyes widened as he noticed three wands in the donation bin; it had been empty just moments ago. This, girl…this, woman had paid nearly seven hundred galleons for orphans? "Thank you, Miss Braedenstock. I hope you will accept a trial of this brand new product for our gratitude." It wasn't exactly packaged nicely; it looked much like a pat of butter in plastic wrap.

Millicent was almost unable to hide her disgust. "Oh, no…thank you but I would have no use of it. Perhaps donate it to the orphans instead. I am sure they would be overjoyed, what with Christmas coming up next month." She hoped that her voice was level. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Fred examining her; a sly smile had spread over his face. So, he was interested…good.

A/N: I decided to let the first chapter speak for itself, but now I as the author will speak out! I got the idea for this work of fiction out of nowhere really. It's a pairing that I've never before seen and I've also never seen a romance/humor fiction written for Millicent Bulstrode. Come to think of it, I've never seen ANY fiction featuring Millicent.

So, read and drop a review, if you please!

Marina