Draco Malfoy was sitting at the bar of the Leaky Cauldron. It was lunch time, the place was crowded, and he was sipping white wine waiting for a table. The girl behind the bar served him, but otherwise ignored him. Somehow, after his visit the other week, the staff had picked up on the vibe that Malfoy – although feared outside the establishment – had no power here. Hermione, however, had taken one glance through the doorway and retreated into the kitchen.
Ginny, who had been doing inventory throughout the morning, wandered into the kitchen as well. "Hermione, aren't you supposed to be waitressing?" She kept her voice light, seeing a nervousness in her friend's face that she hadn't seen for many long months.
"Malfoy's out there," Hermione replied shortly. Ginny wondered where the fight in her friend had gone, remembering years ago when Hermione had slapped the blond boy hard enough to leave a mark that lasted the whole day. Today, she was too terrified to even stand in his presence.
"Well, why don't you go and talk to Snape today then? Surely he's got some work for you to do by now?" Ginny tied on her apron.
Hermione shrugged, but contemplated the idea. "I suppose. I'll go out through the back." Having decided, the witch jumped up immediately. "See you tonight, hopefully I'll be back before supper." Ginny waved her friend off, clenching her teeth as she prepared to face Malfoy. Hermione may allow herself to be intimidated now, but Ginny refused to be cowed.
Maude raised an eyebrow at the girl. Ginny rolled her eyes. "Maybe he wants to buy us out, now that we're turning a profit," she offered up to the older witch. Maude snorted.
"That'd be right, wouldn't it? You go out there and tell him to back off, girl. We don't want his dirty money." Maude fired her employer a fierce gaze, then turned back to the meals she was turning out. The waitress at the window nodded her silent agreement with a grim smile, taking plates out to customers.
Ginny sighed quietly. Picking up some plates, she took them out to their tables, smiled politely at the customers, talked about the establishment for a few moments, then moved over to the bar. The girl behind the bar indicated to her that Malfoy had drunk two glasses of their best white, and had paid for the rest of the bottle. Finally, a table cleared for Malfoy, so Ginny steeled herself to go and talk to him.
"Mr. Malfoy," she greeted him.
"Miss Weasley," he replied. "I see you are taking a personal hand to your establishment?" His raised eyebrow indicated her apron and the bottle Malfoy had paid for.
She smiled politely, knowing she could not shout like a schoolgirl at him in front of her employees. "Certainly, Mr. Malfoy," she replied. "It builds the morale of the workers, knowing that I will not expect of them anything that I will not do myself. If you will follow me? There is a table available over here." Clutching the cold bottle so tightly she feared it might break, she led the smirking man over to a small table set against the window which faced the Muggle side of the establishment. On taking over the management of the pub, Ginny had quickly shed the interior of the pub of its gloomy cast by opening up these huge windows, allowing the fierce late-summer sun to shine on Malfoy's too-pale skin.
Ginny placed the bottle on the table, indicating that Malfoy should sit. "Will you have the house fare?" She asked calmly, and he indicated that, yes, that would be fine. Then he sipped his wine, turned his head away, and she knew she was dismissed. Her insides gripped with fury, she walked away lightly.
On returning to the kitchen, she kissed her newly-arrived mother on the cheek, then said to Maude, "spit in the next one," with such a vicious tone that Maude and Molly both turned to look at her.
With a deep breath, Ginny calmed herself. "Malfoy is out there, and he insinuated that I was no better than the help I've hired, waltzing around as a waitress."
Maude shrugged. "The establishment is only as good as the help you've got, dear. If you spent all your time being haughty like that Malfoy kid, there's no way we'd work as hard as we do for you." Ginny smiled and accepted the reassurance of the older woman.
"And anyway," Molly added, "I've heard through the grapevine that Malfoy's investments haven't been going as well as normal, lately. Perhaps he's here to ask for a job?" The suggestion was accompanied by a mischievous grin.
Ginny grinned back at her mother. "That bad?"
A dark-haired waitress nodded from the window. "I've heard that he's lost half his fortune in the past six months, and that his normal determination has turned into distraction…"
Ginny looked thoughtful. Perhaps taking those pearls from Malfoy would finally bring him some humility. She shrugged. "He'll never know what it's like to live under the breadline, even if he loses ninety percent of his fortune. I'll take his dinner over to him, if it's ready Maude?"
Maude looked for a moment as though she might take Ginny's previous suggestion seriously, but Molly put a hand on her shoulder. "Better," the woman said, producing a small packet of some powder and sprinkling the tiniest amount on the food. Ginny gasped at her mother. "Mum, that's…"
Molly winked at her daughter. "Your brother's Inner Turmoil powder, yes."
Ginny grinned, took the plate over to Malfoy and placed it in front of him silently. He gave her no indication that he even saw her, so she went to clear another table.
Ginny gave her mum a wink when she re-entered the kitchen. She didn't see him leave, but when she next looked out Malfoy was gone.
The afternoon wore on, the women filling in the quiet time between main meals with preparation and preserving the seasonal produce that Ginny had sourced at a fantastic price. Ginny was peeling potatoes – again – when Hermione returned to the kitchen. Her face was flushed, her jaw set, but there was a sparkle in her eye that Ginny couldn't have missed if she'd been blind.
"Have fun boiling Ashwinder eggs?" Ginny asked, barely glancing up from her potato.
Hermione grunted, sitting down next to her friend and beginning to slice tomatoes. "You enjoy my torment, don't you?" She grumbled. Ginny hid her smile. "No, I wasn't boiling Ashwinder eggs, I was cleaning out my newly-bought apartment. Apparently, the use of my property is included in this arrangement. His house is 'too small'." Hermione snorted.
"Too small for the both of you!" Ginny replied. "It sounds like you can hardly stand to be in the same room."
Hermione cast an almost unnoticed glance at her friend from the corner of her eye. She shrugged with one shoulder and brushed her hair away from her face with the back of one wrist. "I suppose I'll survive," she said eventually. Ginny said nothing.
"Have you heard from Blaise?" Ginny asked after a few minutes, dropping slices of potato into a baking dish.
Hermione shrugged. "No, but I didn't really expect to. Snape contacted him, so they're doing… whatever Blaise wanted him for. He'll wander off to whomever is next on his list," Hermione gave Ginny a wistful half-smile. "I'm not bothered by it, actually."
Ginny had other thoughts as to why Blaise hadn't pursued Hermione harder – thoughts to do with Snape and torture – but she didn't mention them.
"I take it that Malfoy didn't destroy the place?" Hermione asked.
Ginny shook her head, her face serious now. "No. I don't know why he was here, and I hope he doesn't come back. He drank a bottle of wine, ate a meal and left. Good riddance."
Hermione lifted up the cup of tea that Maude had put in front of her and toasted Ginny. "Good riddance," she replied.