Chapter Twelve

"So, what have you been up to for the last, oh, I don't know, ten years or so?"

"What an opening question," Ginny said, taking a sip of her beer. "I don't know, a lot. Graduating, getting a few jobs, striking out on my own. You know. How about you?"

"Whoa, now," Oliver said, laughing a little and swirling his drink, "don't think you can get away with ten years of information all in that one answer. I mean, that was no detail at all."

Ginny sighed, grinning. She and Oliver had been at the bar for less than five minutes and she was already completely warmed up to him. He had a way of making her feel relaxed and talkative. "Well, I don't know," she said. "You might have to be more specific than that. Ask me a question that covers less ground, you know?"

Oliver swirled his drink again for a moment, taking a thoughtful sip. "Well," he said, "have you found your passion yet?"

Ginny was silent for a moment as she tried to understand the question. "Well," she said finally, talking slowly to stall for time, "I don't think I know you well enough to really answer that."

Oliver squinted at her for a moment, then chuckled. Ginny liked watching him laugh; his smile spread all the way across his face and split it into dozens of small lines. Ginny appreciated rather suddenly that Oliver was probably thirty years old. "Ginny," he said, "just tell me what you like doing. What is it in your life that you look forward to every morning? Or every week. Or whenever."

"Oh," Ginny exhaled. "Well, I like work. I work with my brother at the joke shop in Diagon Alley."

"Really?" Oliver said, leaning slightly closer to her across the bar where they were seated. "Is that what you dreamed of doing?" he asked. "Do you love your job? Do you wake up every morning excited about going, even if maybe you'd rather do other things?"

Ginny frowned. "Well, I mean, I'm not wetting myself over it," she said, taking a swallow of beer. "I like working with George, you know, he's a nice boss and we've always gotten along. And I guess that's pretty much all you can ask for with a job, right?"

Oliver smiled, staring into his glass as his eyes unfocused slightly. "Maybe I'll tell you first," he said, looking up at Ginny again from his slightly angled vantage point. "That way you know what I'm talking about."

"Okay," Ginny said. She signaled the bartender for another beer.

Oliver paused for a second, downed the rest of his glass, and then turned to face Ginny head on. "Every morning I wake up and I'm glad I have," he began. "I'm sure you feel like that sometimes too, so you know what I'm talking about. But I wake up excited because I've found something that really fulfills me. I get up every morning excited about going to the studio and painting and teaching new students how to use their magic. Sometimes I even teach physical painting," he added, and his voice got oddly shy, "but none of the adults want to learn that. Only my kids' classes."

"You teach kids too?" Ginny asked, somewhat surprised.

"Of course," Oliver replied, smiling easily. He seemed to always be smiling or to be one step away from smiling. "Kids are the best students, you know? They love making things, they love using their hands and even learning a little bit about magic. It's still all hocus-pocus and Merlin to them."

Ginny laughed. "Do you have any kids of your own?"

Oliver grinned again, holding up one of his hands. "Ah-ah," he said, shaking a finger like an overbearing parent. "You still haven't answered my original question, and I gave you a hint and everything. What are you passionate about, Ginny? What makes you excited to get up in the morning?"

Ginny paused. Her life had been rather routine lately, and while she wasn't exactly unhappy waking up every morning, she wasn't sure if she could identify something that really made her happy to be awake and about. "Well," she said slowly as another thought came into her head, "I guess I'm just excited to see what's coming up next, you know? Nothing new has really happened for a while so I'm just looking for whatever will shake things up."

"Do you think maybe coming to my class was an attempt to shake things up? Not that I flatter myself interesting or anything, just curious," Oliver asked.

"Probably," Ginny said, taking another sip of her beer. "Hermione has brought me to a bunch of these bogus classes before and I never really liked them. To be honest," she added, "I've dragged myself to a lot of shit like your class and never felt a connection or interest. But something's different about you and your painting."

Oliver quirked an eyebrow. "Mind telling me what it was?" he asked. "You know, in case I need to boost enrollment or something."

Ginny laughed quietly. "I dunno," she said. Now that she had to think about it, she wasn't sure exactly what it was that had drawn her to the class. "I guess it was that you understood. At first it threw me off and made me feel uncomfortable because it seems kind of weird … But then you just looked at my painting of Egypt, and you knew everything. But you didn't just know, you understood. You really seemed to feel everything that I was feeling. I liked that. Although," she added, allowing a lighter hint to creep into her voice, "painting me still seems kind of creepy." She winked at him, taking another sip of beer as Oliver chuckled.

"I couldn't help it," he protested laughingly. "I know you have your boyfriend and all that, but I'm going to say it anyway, Ginny; you're gorgeous. You make a great subject with all your contrasts." His voice faded slightly, his eyes unfocused, taking her in. "Your skin stands out marvelously against your hair."

"Thanks," Ginny said, smiling. "I won't tell Harry you said it."

"Harry?" Oliver asked, eyes widening comically. "Oh, so it's still you and him, hmm? You two have been together since the last time I saw Harry, then."

"Basically," Ginny sighed, gulping her beer, "but I like to think my relationship status is the least interesting aspect of my life."

Oliver stifled another laugh. "Is that good, in the sense that you're leading an incredibly interesting life where the fun relationship you have is only the fun part, or bad, in the sense that your life is on the good side but your relationship is totally boring?"

Ginny quirked her mouth to one side in a wry smile. "I'd hope it's the former," she sighed, finishing her beer, "but if you want the truth I think it's a mix of the two. But my life isn't really that interesting so you can see how devastated I am."

"Well," Oliver said slowly, swirling the ice in his glass with the dregs of his drink, "I think I may know a way to help you out, at least for one night, in the interesting-life department."

"If you're asking for a one-night stand, I'm not that kind of girl. I'm not quite driven to desperation," Ginny said as Oliver finished his own drink.

He nearly choked on his beverage as he laughed in response to Ginny's comment. "Oh, you think since I painted you I want everything now," he chuckled. Ginny joined him a little sheepishly in laughing. "No, silly," he continued. "I'm an excellent dancer and this bar occasionally plays good music. So come on, on your feet."

A/N: Sorry this chapter is a little late, everyone! (I feel so honored that I have an "everyone" to write to! Thank you so much for reading!) This past week was the craziest of my entire life, but things will not get that bad again before the end of the school year. And after that comes summer! Much work to be done ahead! I hope you enjoyed Oliver and Ginny's first one-on-one interaction. The pace will be picking up from here. ~ TheGoldenAge