"He's taking a liking to ya."

"Huh?"

"I said, he likes you."

"Who? Oh!" Ginny glanced at the Texan—whose name she still hadn't received because he hadn't written her—and over to Snape. "Oh."

Talia nodded knowingly. "Mr Prince doesn't talk much to anyone except you."

"People open up to me," Ginny said, shrugging off her disappointment. She wished the Texan would have opened up to her —asked her on a date—but he seemed engrossed in conversation with the blonde who worked at the grocery store and was sipping a Skinny LimeRoot Martini. She would have added something to her drink, had the witch—-Marie—not given her excellent discounts and had been a pretty kind person in general. But being liked by Snape was….okay, she decided.

"Keep it up," Talia said, patting her shoulder on the way over to serve a group of eighth year students home from Hogwarts.

Ginny took a long hard look at the Texan. He was attractive, no doubt. She looked at Marie as well with her big blonde hair and her pretty puckered lips. Well they did make a pretty pair after all. The Texan was talking about going back home to his ranch in America, and Marie always wanted to travel, so Ginny decided to call truce on the both of them.

Her eyes caught a gorgeous number with the most luscious, blood-red curls down to her waist. She wore a tight black skirt and a corset on top and looked like she couldn't wait to get out of both. Well if that wasn't Snape's type, she wasn't sure what was.

At first Ginny thought it was rather ridiculous to guess what types of witches her old professor would sleep with, but now it had become a game. She'd scope them out on the way to the grocery, to pick up the mail from the owl on her lawn, as she was visiting the clinic or out with friends. Some witches were lean and willowy, other curvy and thick, some had lots of makeup and their hair done up, others sported a more natural look, but as long as they had hair any shade between marron and blush, she was certain that wizard would snatch them up on a Saturday and wouldn't let them out of his flat until the weekend was over.

She began to understand Snape's technique for seduction. As anything the Potions Master did, it was methodical. At first, he'd pretend not to notice her presence, but then on the way to the lavatory, he'd walk by her and slyly drop a hint in the form of a light spell up her shoulder. Soon after he was back, he'd send a drink her way, usually something strong and sweet with a hint of an aphrodisiac (chocolate or pomegranate seeds did the trick). She'd float over to tell him she had no interest in getting drinks with the likes of him, and he'd tell her to stop being fussy and if she wanted to play coy, she'd have to do it elsewhere because Tobias Prince didn't ask a witch twice. Whether it was the fear of losing his attention or whatever other charismatic charm his request held, the witch would soon fall into his arms. Whatever worked, Ginny guessed.

But every once in a while Snape's routine would change a bit and tonight was one of those nights.

"One Bloody Martini and drop it on her lap," Snape said, eyes glued to the witch.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You've heard me perfectly, Weasley. Do it."

Ginny stacked a few glasses back on the shelf. "I'll do no such thing-"

"-you will," Snape said, now glaring at Ginny, his voice—practically a growl. "Because I'm paying you."

"You pay me to make your drinks, not to scare away my patrons."

"They aren't your patrons, and I doubt that your management will be cross at you for following through with a customer's request," Snape said. "If there are any problems, I will gladly take the blame."

Let's bet, Ginny said as she watched the wizard slide three times the drink in galleons across the table to her. Well, Talia did say to 'keep up the good work', so Ginny whipped up the Bloody Martini and put in a nice little hibiscus flower on the top.

He must have been desperate for the redhead's attention because he was really trying to pull out all the stops. He even charmed some cologne on himself. Well that was all fine and well, but if he was not going to be respectful of her role, Ginny would not be in the mood to help him win his witch. She did bring that drink over and she did set it down before the redhead and told her very quietly that the asshole at the end of the bar paid her thrice as much to spill it on her lap, but that she would be doing no such thing.

She tried to give the witch drinks on the house, but the redhead did not want to hear of it. She tipped Ginny well and made certain to pay no attention to Snape all evening long, and left the bar with two young and very attractive gentlemen under each arm.

No sooner did Ginny finish her shift than did the looming form of Snape tower over her, demanding what in the bloody hell she was playing at. It wasn't even about the money—for him, Ginny suspected—it was about her nerve to disobey him , and she would let him have a double serving of her wrath tonight.

"Don't ask me to do things I'm not comfortable with." Ginny smacked the money back into Snape's hand. "You're going to have to find some other bartender to get you a lay for the night. I'm not taking part."

-xxx-

It was two weeks before Snape showed his face again. Ginny wondered if he had left Cagailshire. Snape drank at the Crone every Saturday and even Talia pointed out her surprise at not seeing his face in his regular spot, making a quip about how the number of available redheads must have finally run out.

"I'm still here, so that's not the case," Ginny said, tongue in cheek.

But the Crone was not where Ginny saw him. It was actually when she was browsing the racks of a clothing shop for some new jeans than did his form appear, clad in navy blue with a dapper looking hat on his head. She turned away, ducking into the lingerie isle, where she was certain the wizard would not dare step foot, but again, she was wrong.

"Miss Weasley," he began, his dapper hat an odd accessory among the brassieres, "I believe I owe you an explanation."

"No, you don't–"

"I can admit my….indiscretion." Snape spoke slowly, and firmly. "It was not my place to ask you to assist me in private matters."

"Alright," Ginny replied. "Apology accepted—"

"-although as an employee of a reputable institution known for being a place of sacrilege, I don't think I've crossed the boundary of acceptable behaviors."

"You crossed it."

"I don't see it in that light."

"Listen. We'll keep each other out of our relationships and we won't speak of this anymore."

Snape sighed. "Very well."

Ginny extended her hand for a shake, but the wizard disappeared towards the register, leaving Ginny to shop in solitude. She did see him at the bar the coming Saturday. She saw him leaving the bar that Saturday with the redheaded witch that worked in the coffee shop across the street from the morgue. As long as Ginny wasn't asked to spill anything on her lap—she was willing to turn a blind eye to his affairs. She kind of had to admit Talia was right — she did think it unusual when Snape was not at his usual Saturday spot. Now all was right in the world.