Ginny didn't wait up; when she closed the bar at twelve thirty her friend had not yet returned, but she proceeded to clean without any worry. When she collapsed into her bed at one thirty she began to wonder a little, but exhaustion carried her into sleep before she could become anxious.
On rising in the morning Ginny noted her friend's closed door and wondered what she had been doing the night before. She shook her head and smiled. Maude was already in the kitchen when Ginny wandered in, checking on the bread.
"Any thoughts on who you're going to hire to help me? I've got a whole lot of preserving to do before winter and I could use that help soon."
"Good morning, Maude," Ginny replied with a smile. Maude handed her a cup of tea. "I was thinking of talking to my mum, actually," she confessed. "She's been doing kitchen work most of her life, and for seven hungry children to boot. I think you'd like her."
"Well," Maude exhaled sharply as she placed a heavy tray of bread on the counter, "hurry up and get her in here, then. I want to meet her."
Ginny nodded, carefully sipped her tea and slipped into the morning routine.
A Floo call to her mother – to ask her over for afternoon tea – arranged a meeting. Ginny spared a passing anxious thought to how she was going to convince her mother to work at the pub. She really didn't have a lot of time to worry, however, as the bar filled up and she set herself to waitress duties.
Sometime after lunch Hermione wandered down the stairs, squinting and grumbling.
"Too much to drink last night?" Ginny asked loudly. Hermione winced.
"Is that supposed to be funny?" the brunette grumbled, crawling onto a chair and summoning a glass of water over. She sculled it, refilled the glass and stared at it.
"Did you have a good night, then?" Ginny prodded, coming over to sit opposite her friend.
Hermione smiled a little, secretive smile. She raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't you like to know?"
Ginny gave a wry smile. "Oh, I suppose. If you want to tell me, that is."
Hermione gave a half-hearted laugh, wincing at her sore ears. "No, no, this is the part where you beg me, where you offer me anything to make me tell you."
Ginny made a haughty face. "I could, but it would be just as effective as waiting you out."
Hermione grimaced. "Oh, I suppose it would, at that." She picked up her glass and drank. When she put it down, she continued to stare at it.
Ginny waited for a few moments. Then a few more. "Oh, fine," she exclaimed. "Tell me!"
Hermione jerked up. "Oh! Right. Well, we went out to Gregoriov's for dinner," Ginny let out a low whistle. Hermione nodded, then continued. "He ordered everything, complimented me on everything, flirted outrageously…" she laughed wistfully. "If he wasn't Blaise, I'd have fallen head over heels. But, as it was, it was just wonderful fun. We went out for drinks afterwards, ended up in some bar or other… He bought cocktails for me, and just watched me drink them. I thought it slightly suspicious, but he apparated me back here at about three in the morning without laying a hand on me… well, you know, apart from the side-along bit." Hermione trailed off, her eyes gazing into the middle distance, a faint smile on her lips.
Ginny kept her face straight. "You told him where to find Snape?"
"Oh?" Hermione snapped back. "Oh. No, not yet. I didn't… I didn't actually get around to asking Snape if he'd mind if I told Blaise…"
Ginny nodded once, decisively. "Good. Blaise is a nice enough guy, but he is still a Slytherin." After a moment's pause, Ginny reached over and squeezed her friend's arm. "I'm glad you had a good time, Hermione. You needed it."
Hermione smiled up at Ginny as the redhead got up to go back to work.
The rest of the morning was calm, and Ginny inwardly prepared for her meeting with her mother that afternoon. When Molly bustled into the kitchen at three o'clock, Ginny was sitting with Maude, peeling potatoes for dinner.
"Hi, mum, how are you?" Ginny got up and ushered her mother to a seat, then poured her a cup of tea.
"Quite fine, Gin, darling. Now, while you're not busy, tell me what it is you wanted to ask me?" Molly's look told her daughter that she was not fooled by the five seconds of bluster that Ginny made before sighing.
"I was going to ask you if you'd like to work here," Ginny replied bluntly. If her mother wanted to play this game, then fine.
"Well, Ginny, I do have a garden to tend, and your father to look after…" But Ginny wasn't put off by her mother's words, as the tone was musing. "What sort of salary are you going to pay me?"
Ginny grinned inwardly, careful not to let it show on the outside. "Two Galleons an hour, Three an hour on public holidays and if we call you in, in the morning. You'd be working from twelve thirty til about eight, and you're free to take dinner home for dad as well."
Molly eyed Maude as she considered the offer. "The pay is fine. But it would be more helpful for me to work from about eleven until seven. That will cover dinner, supper preparations, and early suppers as well. And meals will be free, I assume?"
"Of course," Ginny replied. "Maude, what do you think?"
Maude, who had been watching the exchange silently, her hands working away at the beans, replied. "How do you go with preserving? Jams, chutneys, relishes? Bottled fruit?" Molly nodded at each question.
"I've raised seven children on one Ministry salary," she replied, as though this answered all questions. Maude nodded as though it did.
"I would be privileged to work with you," Maude inclined her head.
"Well, mum?" Ginny prompted.
Molly looked over at her daughter. "Darling, did you know that I've not had a job since before Bill was born? And that was only for the year before your father and I got married. It will be an adventure to work again."
Ginny smiled, outwardly now. "You'll do fine." She held out her hand. "An honour to have you on board," she said as her mother shook her hand firmly.
Molly signed a contract confirming her employment details, and took her copy with her as she – flushed with strange pride – waved at her daughter and left through the floo.
"I like her," Maude said as Ginny took up her paring knife again.
"Me, too," Ginny replied, smiling.