Chapter 1: Retribution

”Three orders of filet mignon, and a couple of parfait of foie gras! Weasley, serve two bottles of chilled wine to table seventeen, pronto. We’ve got an upperclassmen business meeting on our hands.” The portly manager peered anxiously over the countertop, wiping his sweaty hands on his apron.

“Relax, Dave. You know I can handle these high-class prigs.” Ginny smiled reassuringly and got out said bottles, swerving around harried waitresses and raucous tables to a number seventeen.

She’d been working at this four star Wizarding restaurant as a waitress since the beginning of the summer, though her family remained oblivious. Soon after school had finished Ginny had overheard her mum and dad arguing over money again. She had known her family was anything but rich, but had failed to see just how bad their financial problems were.

They were pretty much living off of the twins’ salary at the moment and despite the fact that Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes was doing wonderfully, it was hardly enough to support a family of nine. So Ginny had taken a job at the Terrace, hoping to earn a few galleons to support herself with. It was a wonderful, classy French restaurant in downtown London and within walking distance of the flat she was staying at.

A fellow waiter, Neil, stopped her. “Hang on, Gin! You forgot your notepad!”

Ginny checked her apron pockets. Empty. “Oh, damn. Thanks, Neil,” she said with a grateful smile, taking the small pad from him. “I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost it.”

Neil grinned at her. “Probably blushed to the roots of your hair and started babbling.”

Ginny made a face at him and continued towards Table 17, her strappy black heels clicking against the woode floor and matching dress uniform swishing around her knees.

Today’s going to be a long day.

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Draco waited impatiently for a waitress to come with their order. For a four-star restaurant, the service sucked. The large, sloth-like man beside Draco grinned and nudged him. “Looks like you’ve got ants in your pants. Is someone cranky because they haven’t had their afternoon meal?”

Draco glared at Flint Senior. “For your information, I have better things to be doing than sitting around waiting to stuff my face under the false pretence that I’m actually doing work with a bunch of overweight sloths such as yourself. I have an appointment in an hour with the Minister of Magic that I’d do well not to miss.”

Mr. Flint scowled at the fair-haired youth before him. It had always irked the older men that someone so much younger than them could be so much more successful. “Looks like you don’t have to wait long,” he said, gesturing towards the sexiest waitress Draco had ever seen. She was all long legs and curves, wavy scarlet hair accentuating a pale heart-shaped face and large doe-brown eyes.

Sex on legs, Draco thought with a smirk. Already his mind was working furiously on the plan that would most surely get her into his bed.

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Ginny could have groaned aloud when she saw just which group of high-class prigs she was to be serving. The fathers of Nott, Crabbe, Zabini, Goyle, and Flint leered at her in a way that made her mentally shudder. They were far too old to be looking at her like that!

Ginny narrowed her eyes as she caught sight of someone who was anything but old. Ferret-face, she thought contemptuously. She couldn’t remember much about him except that he’d given her brother and his friends a hard time, not to mention every Muggle-born person she’d ever met. The only encounter with him that stood out clearly in her mind was when she had written Harry Potter, her crush at the time, a love poem and Malfoy had announced it to the world. That had been the most humiliating day of her life and it was all thanks to Malfoy.

Ginny tried to keep from lashing out at him right then and there. He was looking at her with the same piercing assessment one would give a new broomstick. She tried not to shudder visibly. Here we go, Ginny thought to herself, taking a deep breath and pasting on a bright, cheery smile. She positioned herself at the head of the table.

“Three orders of filet mignon, two parfait of foie gras?” she asked with false cheerfulness.

“That’s right, and it’s about bloody time,” Mr. Goyle snarled. Ginny heard murmurs of assent ripple throughout the men at the table. The only person who remained silent was Malfoy, who was still looking at her, contemplating something.

Great, and they’ve decided to be difficult. “I’m terribly sorry; there was a disturbance in the kitchens. Perhaps if you had made a reservation …” she trailed off delicately.

Mr. Flint’s eyes narrowed. “We shouldn’t have to make reservations! We’re important men. We’ve got enough to do without making fussy calls,” he said pretentiously.

Ginny could feel her cheeks flushing as she tried to contain her anger. Draco saw her struggle and cut in smoothly, “Gentlemen, calm down. The food is here now, we’ve got a beautiful waitress, good company and something to celebrate! Shall we dig in?”

They all muttered a bit but tucked in anyways; hungry men were easily distracted. Ginny didn’t know why Malfoy was being so nice, but she threw him a grateful look all the same, handing him his two bottles of wine. She could have sworn he gave her a small smile as she made her way towards a group of new arrivals.

I don’t know what your game is, Draco Malfoy, but trust me, I’m going to find out, Ginny decided.
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Draco smirked as he toyed around with his filet mignon, hungry for something else entirely now. The waitress had responded just as he’d thought she would. Now all he needed was for her to offer to do something for him while she was still grateful.

His brow furrowed a bit as he tried to remember where he’d seen her before. She seemed familiar, but he just couldn’t put a name to the face. Jenny? Gabby? Whoever she was, she was going to be his soon.

“Gentlemen, if I may be excused? I’m terribly sorry, but I have important matters to attend to,” he said with a charming smile. He hated being charming to people he didn’t like, but sometimes it couldn’t be helped. His father had taught him that.

They all looked at him disapprovingly but said nothing as he threw down his napkin and made for the door. He’d wait for the waitress to finish her shift and woo her. If he wasn’t mistaken, there should be a lunch break in about ten minutes.

Draco was not disappointed. Exactly ten minutes later the back door of the Terrace swung open and several waiters and waitresses rushed out, chattering about nonsensical things that Draco didn’t care about. One of the last to trail out was the object of his desires. She was talking to a tall, rather good-looking man with dark brown hair and green eyes. Draco’s lip curled as he felt an unreasonable surge of anger.

The man said something to her and she threw back her mane of fiery red hair to release a beautiful, tinkling laugh, her pale white throat gleaming in the sunlight. Draco’s anger dissipated just as fast as it had come, replaced by something else entirely. Suddenly she caught sight of him staring at her and hurriedly said something to the man. He called good-bye to her, wrapping her in a warm, intimate hug and kissing her cheek before disapparating.

Draco felt a momentary flash of panic at the intimacy of their embrace. What if she had a boyfriend? He hadn’t even thought of it. Well, Draco decided, she won’t have one for much longer if I can help it. His lip curled in a self-satisfied smirk.

Ginny made her way towards him, her heels clicking against the pavement. “What do you want, Draco Malfoy?” she asked, cinnamon eyes flashing.

Draco was a bit surprised that she knew his name, but then it made sense. She had seemed familiar; he’d probably known her in school. If only he could remember her name!

“Hello,” he said with as charming a smile as he could muster. “I knew I recognized you. I remember you, but your name keeps escaping me. Now I know it’s just going to keep bothering me. Would you mind sharing it with me again?”

Ginny stared at him for a moment and then she suddenly started to laugh. This time, though, it wasn’t sweet and pretty. It sounded harsh and mocking, and Draco suddenly had the unreasonable notion that she hated him. That can’t be, he thought, reminding himself of the grateful look she’d given him back in the restaurant.

She sobered just as suddenly, saying, “You honestly don’t remember me?”

He looked at her apologetically. “No, but I’d love to get to know you again, if you don’t mind. How about we discuss this over lunch?” He offered her a pale, white hand.
Ginny felt like punching him right then and there, or maybe hitting him with the same Bat-Bogey Hex she’d used on him in 4th year, but she restrained herself. The best revenge, she thought nastily, is that of the heart. So maybe that was why she accepted his offer and his hand, and maybe that’s why she lied about her name, about how they’d known each other. Maybe.

Chapter 2: Simply Divine

Ginny sipped her coffee and surveyed the man before her. Draco Malfoy had changed from their school days; there was no doubt about that. He was still pale, but it seemed to suit him, his pointed features filling out to look sharp and angular and almost abstract in their perfection. At Hogwarts, he had seemed like a piece of a puzzle. Today the entire puzzle sat before her, arrogant and aloof in its beauty.

“So, Jenny, tell me. What have you been up to since Hogwarts?” he asked, stirring his coffee lazily even though he drank it black.

She inwardly winced at her choice of name. Why couldn’t she have chosen something pretty, like Dahlia or Isolde? She suddenly remembered that an observant pair of silver eyes was watching her. “Oh, not much,” she said airily. “This is just a temporary job until I find something I really want to do. Get away from home, you know, without actually getting away from home.”

“What is it you want to do?” he inquired, lifting his mug to his lips.

“I’m not really sure…I rather wanted to be a Healer, but it’s just so hectic. I don’t know whether I’d be able to handle it. Either that or a Defender,” Ginny said, staring into her empty cup as though it would give her the answers.

Draco looked suddenly amused. “A Defender? A woman wants to work in the courts, with all that boring, tedious law business?”

“It’s not boring!” she said, firing up at once. “A bit tedious, yes, but what does it matter if I’m a woman or not?”

“I’m sure you know that a woman hasn’t dared to Defend for several years, Jenny. Not since the Dark Lord began his reign of terror,” he said.

“Well, he’s fallen,” she said defiantly. “And I intend to be the woman who dares!”

“I thought you weren’t sure?” Draco asked bemusedly.

Damn… He’d backed her into a corner. She was supposed to be doing the cornering, not him. He seemed to have noticed her accusatory glare, because he smirked, bending his head so his flaxen hair fell to cover the laughter in his eyes.

“Why are you so touchy on whether a woman Defends or not, anyway?” she asked, rougher than she’d intended. Calm down, dear. You’re Jenny, not Ginny, she reminded herself.

He spoke to his cup, his hair still covering his eyes, “Because, Jenny, I am a Defender as well.”

She stared at him with wide brown eyes, before bursting out laughing. “You were doing that for kicks, weren’t you?”

He smirked but didn’t respond. She had the bright idea to reach across the table and clasp his fingers in her own. He raised an eyebrow at her and she couldn’t keep the blush from staining her cheeks, but she didn’t let go.
“So, Draco, have you changed, really? From the boy I knew in school?” she purred. Ginny felt that if she had to keep this up any longer she’d vomit or punch herself in the mouth.

Draco seemed unperturbed, however; he was making his cup look awfully interesting. “Of course. The war changed everyone,” he said.

“But for the better?”

He finally looked up, his silver eyes unreadable. “I’m not sure. I think so. Why don’t you be the judge of that?”

Ginny cursed inwardly. He’d managed to turn the question against her; he was really good. The sudden thought that he might have had some practice made her mouth sour and all the more resolved to bring Draco Malfoy down from his marble pedestal.

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” she replied. It was an inadequate answer and they both knew it. The redhead rushed to change the subject before he had the chance to acknowledge it.

“What about those three, you hated them. Harry Potter and his friends, you know?” she asked. She leaned forward unconsciously; it was the question she had been waiting to ask him all day.

He mouth twisted upward in a bitter smile. “What about them? I still hate them, but not as much as I used to. I got over what they did to me. I moved on,” he said slowly, weighing his words.

“What do you mean, what they did to you?” she asked, the words spilling out of her mouth in surprise before she could stop them.

Draco took his time answering, contemplating her silently as he beckoned for the waiter. This girl was obviously more than she presented herself to be, he thought to himself.

“What kind of question is that? You were there; you saw how they tortured me. You did say you were in Slytherin, didn’t you?”

Again, he turned the tables on her. No wonder this guy was a Defender, Ginny thought to herself. He’s a born manipulator. “No, no. I’m in Ravenclaw,” she replied. Saying she was in Slytherin would’ve given her away immediately; Malfoy probably knew the name and Floo address of every girl in Slytherin, judging by his reputation.

A waiter came, bobbing his head earnestly. “Check,” Draco said coolly.

“Of course, sir,” the waiter said, rushing to do the infamous Draco Malfoy’s bidding. And he would, Ginny knew. She had hopped from diner to restaurant to little corner places that couldn’t be called much more than “shops” and so she knew from experience that the Wizarding restaurant business was a peculiar thing indeed. In the “food shops,” the employees were simply poor relatives of the owner, and in the diners, the employees were just plain poor. In the high-class restaurants, like The Terrace, there was a sort of caste system. There were the rich but ugly managers who had to employ attractive waiters and waitresses to smile and look pretty while taking orders. The orders themselves went, not to human chefs, but to house elf chefs.

She became aware of the silence that had descended between her and Draco. It wasn’t uncomfortable, really, but it wasn’t comfortable either. It was just sort of there. He was the first to break it, softly asking, “Knut for your thoughts?”

She paused as the waiter came back with their check. Draco signed it without looking, something Ginny had always secretly wanted to do. “Just thinking about how odd it is to be waited on, instead of doing the waiting,” she said, not entirely untruthfully.

Draco smirked at her. “Well, if you want to try it again, I’d be more than happy to take you out again,” he said.

I’m sure you would, Ginny thought nastily. Her tone was entirely light and just flustered enough when she answered, however. “I’d love to.”

She didn’t miss the brief look of complacency that crossed his pale features as Draco tossed a few galleons onto the table and got up. Ginny, who had been expecting some overly extravagant restaurant with very pricey foods gave the small, cozy diner one last appreciative glance before following him out the door into the warm summer air.

“Where are we going, Draco?” She cringed at using his name in such an intimate way, but thankfully he didn’t notice.

“I want to show you something,” he said. Ginny had to take several quick steps to keep up with his long legs, trying not to trip on her ridiculously high heels. Draco noticed her predicament and slowed considerably, reaching for her hand. She let him take it, but only because she was curious as to where he would take her. Ginny tried to remember which twists and turns and alleyways they took, but she soon gave up and allowed herself to be led about.

Finally they found themselves in front of a small door, framed by grubby stone walls. There wasn’t anything particularly remarkable about it, except for the square doorknob. It was this doorknob that Draco turned slowly, gripping as he stood back to let Ginny into the most beautiful place she had ever seen. A sort of oasis in a desert of pavement, she thought with a brilliant smile.

Lush grass cushioned her footsteps, and dozens of kinds of roses and flowers grew from the earth, filling the air with their perfume. The only place where the plants didn’t dominate was in the very center of the small paradise, where a great marble fountain sat. It shot up streams of clear water that returned to the basin with a splash and soothing bubbling sound. A large, ornate silver clock ticked on the wall directly opposite the door.

“Oh, it’s beautiful!” she gasped.

“Very,” Draco said softly from behind her.

She turned to look at him, only to find that he was not gazing at the gorgeous surroundings as she had been, but at her. Ugh, how cliché, Ginny thought to herself. But even so, she couldn’t keep the blush from her cheeks.

She tried to read his face for any sign of triumph at properly flattering her, but found none. Instead he led her to the bubbling fountain, sitting next to her on the wide rim. They sat in silence for a few moments, just drinking in all the sights and sounds and smells.

“I used to come here to be alone,” he said quietly, breaking the silence, but not really.

Ginny was surprised. She’d figured he brought all his dates her to woo them. Draco saw the look on her face and smirked, shaking his head. Ginny followed the way his hair moved with her eyes dazedly. “I know what you’re thinking. But no, I’m not lying. I wanted you to see this.”

“Why?” She couldn’t keep the genuine curiosity out of her voice; she was really intrigued. Why was she so different?

He closed his eyes, lashes fluttering down to kiss his prominent cheekbones. “Why would I bring you to a place that’s so obviously private and special to me? Come on, Jenny, think.”

“We’ve only just met,” she whispered, not really knowing why she was whispering.

“I’m aware,” Draco said softly, opening his eyes and turning to look at her.

She leaned in slowly despite herself. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“You can’t deny that this is wonderful.” She could feel his breath on her face.

“The wonderful things are often the worst for you.” Her eyes dropped to his lips.

His lips were almost brushing hers. “But it feels divine,” he breathed, pressing a soft kiss on her lips. Ginny’s eyes flew open as the clock behind them struck two.

“Oh no!” she cried. “I’m late! Dave’s going to kill me!” Ginny straightened her collar and ran a hand through her hair, throwing a quick, brilliant smile at Draco.

“Thanks for a lovely time, Draco Malfoy. I’ll see you later!” she called, slipping out the door onto the streets beyond and leaving behind a very disgruntled Draco.