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Chapter 6: When Diplomacy Fails
Ginny dodged through the crowd of regulars that were packed into the Leaky Cauldron. Waving at a friend behind the country, she ducked as quickly as she could out back, to the stone wall, pulling out her wand, preparing to enter Diagon Alley. She was already late and it was only her first appointment of the day. Her head down, attempting to read the address where she was supposed to meet the German consul, she wasn’t paying attention to her surroundings when she suddenly ran into another person.
“Pardon me, I really wasn’t watching where I was going. I’m so sorry,” Ginny said, distractedly as she knelt down, attempting to gather up the handful of papers that had scattered upon impact. As an after thought, she surveyed the damp grass, and knew that was going to have to go through the rest of the day with mud stains on her knees. Oh well, no time to worry about that now, she thought, brushing the thought aside. When she had a spare moment, she’d pull out her wand to fix the problem.
“In a hurry, Ginny?” a rather cool female voice asked. Looking up and noticing who was speaking to her for the first time, she groaned inwardly as she recognized Gabrielle, Harry’s fiancée.
“I’m afraid I’m late already,” Ginny said, stepping over, reaching up with her wand, preparing to tap the bricks.
“Ginny, I heard that Harry stopped by your office late last night,” Gabrielle, stepped just in front of Ginny, so as to bar her way through to Diagon Alley.
“What? Oh yeah, he passing on some ominous warning about Bulgaria,” Ginny said, tapping her wand impatiently against her leg.
“Look, Ginny, I know there’s this weird two-date history with you and Harry, and I just to let you know that I’m okay with that. I’m not worried about you at all, because after all, I do have his ring on my finger.”
“I’m glad you’re okay with what’s happened in the past, Gabrielle. And now that we’ve got that out of the way, if you’ll excuse me, I really need to be going,” Ginny said, exasperated. She made a move to take a step around Gabrielle, when the other woman again stepped in front of her. Ginny, realizing that this nuisance wasn’t going to give in, looked up at the other’s woman’s face, and saw the hard glint in her eyes.
“And I know that you are like a little sister to Harry, and how important it is to him that we become friends and that is fine. Just make sure that there will be no more late night visits from him to your office, Ginny, and you and I will get along just fine,” she said, her tone becoming menacing. Well, she’s related to Malfoy after all. Being a conniving little git must come with the territory, Ginny thought.
“Then consider us the best of friends, as I know for a fact that Harry will never be stopping by my office ever again,” Ginny said brightly, albeit through gritted teeth. Gabrielle looked startled by Ginny’s reaction, and with that, Ginny stepped around her, and proceeded into Diagon Alley.
Checking the clock in the square as she dashed by, she saw that she was already ten minutes late. Bloody hell, I have twenty minutes to meet with the consul before my meeting with Malfoy. Lack of sleep and the stress of her tardiness wreaking havoc on her mood already, Ginny wondering in passing what her temperament would be like at the end of it.
* * * * *
Draco Malfoy irritably noted that Ms. Virginia Weasley was officially seventeen minutes late for their appointment. Being a man who was self-admittedly far to arrogant to wait for anyone, he was surprised at his own reluctance to just leave, and let the girl handle her own mess with Bulgaria. But there is something about her that you find fascinating, a voice from the back on his mind explained. Perhaps it was all of that fire she had, buried under carefully maintained layers of ice. He figured it would be quite the show when she finally let it all loose on the world. Shrugging off the thought with a slight chuckle, he glanced again at the clock, and noted that another minute had passed.
And with that observation brought a very harried-looking Weasley into the posh coffee shop they had arranged to meet at. Draco watched carefully as she came crashing through the door and hurriedly scanned the room. Watching out of the corner of his eyes, he saw her spot him, and suddenly all the rush seemed to melt away and she was walking, all relaxed and easy steps, as if it was of no consequence to her that she had kept him waiting. Oh, she is good at this, he thought.
He ran his eyes over her, taking in her outward appearance, knowing that any information he could glean would help him. The beautiful art of diplomacy was quite a choreographed dance, and by keeping him waiting on her (and him allowing himself to wait for her) had put her at an advantage.
She had a dark stain on her knees, as though she had been kneeling the mud. Her suit, he noticed, was black again, this time her skirt falling just above the knee, and managed to accent her small frame, creating sleek lines and an air of sophistication he was surprised to see in a Weasley. But, the dark circles marring her otherwise porcelain face, and the loose strands of hair escaping the tight knot at the back of her head spoke of the type of morning she had been having: she was obviously edgy, tired and stressed. And that, he noted triumphantly, was his vantage point.
“Hello, Mr. Malfoy. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting,” she said smoothly, sitting down.
“By all means, Ms. Weasley, these things do happen,” he answered.
“Alright then, if we could begin, I have here a copy of the agreement for you to look over, and if you have any specific questions, I think that would be the best place to start,” she said, her tone professional and slightly curt. Oh, she’s a determined little woman, he thought. Most would waste time in idle chitchat, attempting to make the situation seem more social, less confrontational. She was taking charge, and if he didn’t act quickly, he would be lost to her obvious skill. And where’s the challenge in that?
“Ms. Weasley, I have to admit, I am rather curious. How did a girl like you get involved in the world of Ministry politics?” he asked, suddenly. He received the desired reaction, as she frowned, put off by his unexpected question.
“If you grew up in the house I did, it’s practically in your blood. Now, if you could be please divert your attention to concession number 8, this is where Bulgaria would be directly affected—”
“—Yes, I understand you are connected through your family, but how did you personally become involved? It’s very rare for one to find a consul as young as you are,” he persisted, interrupting her. He quelled an urge to smile as he noticed that her face was slowly beginning to grow flush.
“I was Minister Fudge’s secretary starting the summer after I left Hogwarts. My job consisted mainly of contacting important members in the community regarding specific decrees or initiatives that he was introducing. I apparently approved to be fairly persuasive, and the next thing I know, I was promoted. Does that answer satisfy your curiosity, Mr. Malfoy?” she asked, forcing a smile.
“Yes it does.”
“Excellent. Now, about concession 8—”
“You know, it was such as shame that you had to duck out of Harry and Gabrielle’s party so early, you missed quite the speech by the infallible hero.” She visibly tensed, and her eyes narrowed slights. Oh yes, that was definitely the card to play, he thought triumphantly. He’d have to remember that for future reference.
“Yes, it was a shame, but I had some paperwork to care of.”
“Ah, paperwork. Yes, it’s quite annoying how often that seems to interfere with the things that we would most like to do. Speaking of which, I am terribly sorry, but as much as I would love to continue with this discussion, I have quite the pile of my own paperwork waiting for me, and an appointment that I have to keep,” he said, apologetically, standing up. She just stared up at him, startled. He was about to step away from the table, when, right on cue, she was standing in front of him.
“Malfoy, you better not think you’re leaving without even glancing at the agreement,” she hissed, all pretenses of diplomacy forgotten.
“If you had been on time, this would not have been a problem,” he answered back smugly.
“And if you hadn’t wasted time with trivial questions, and actually focused on the subject at hand, we could have at least made some headway,” she shot back.
“Terribly sorry. Please let me know how this little deal goes for you. Be interesting to know if it actually passes.”
“Oh no you don’t, Malfoy. Okay, new deal. Why don’t we just shove protocol aside and agree on the fact that it is impossible for us to do this successfully through diplomatic means? Why don’t we acknowledge the fact that we cannot stand each other and would rather be anywhere else in the world then in this spot, right now, together, and discussing a deal that you are so against, unless you can find something in here for yourself? There’s a reason you’re here, you have some sort of motive, so why don’t you stop playing with me, pull your head out of your arse, and discuss this with me like an intelligent human, rather than trying to play your sly Slytherin games with me,” she raged while miraculously keeping her voice low enough not to disturb those around her.
“Weasley, if Fudge could only see you now, I know there’d be no doubt in his mind why he hired you.”
“Shut up, Malfoy and sit down, because we are not finished here,” she said coolly, evenly and with a great deal of authority.
“As far as I’m concerned, we are finished. Because as it stands, that deal will never, under any circumstances, be signed by Bulgaria, which is something that I have been trying to inform your office since the time it was first drafted. Your complete ignorance about the culture of Bulgaria’s wizarding community is what is holding this back, not some evil politician as you assume that I am. If you would like to know why, feel free to contact me so that we can discuss this at a later date, but as it stands now, I have an appointment to keep. Good day,” he said, and turning walking away.
He left a Ginny Weasley sitting alone at the table, stunned into silence.
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Chapter 6: When Diplomacy Fails
Ginny dodged through the crowd of regulars that were packed into the Leaky Cauldron. Waving at a friend behind the country, she ducked as quickly as she could out back, to the stone wall, pulling out her wand, preparing to enter Diagon Alley. She was already late and it was only her first appointment of the day. Her head down, attempting to read the address where she was supposed to meet the German consul, she wasn’t paying attention to her surroundings when she suddenly ran into another person.
“Pardon me, I really wasn’t watching where I was going. I’m so sorry,” Ginny said, distractedly as she knelt down, attempting to gather up the handful of papers that had scattered upon impact. As an after thought, she surveyed the damp grass, and knew that was going to have to go through the rest of the day with mud stains on her knees. Oh well, no time to worry about that now, she thought, brushing the thought aside. When she had a spare moment, she’d pull out her wand to fix the problem.
“In a hurry, Ginny?” a rather cool female voice asked. Looking up and noticing who was speaking to her for the first time, she groaned inwardly as she recognized Gabrielle, Harry’s fiancée.
“I’m afraid I’m late already,” Ginny said, stepping over, reaching up with her wand, preparing to tap the bricks.
“Ginny, I heard that Harry stopped by your office late last night,” Gabrielle, stepped just in front of Ginny, so as to bar her way through to Diagon Alley.
“What? Oh yeah, he passing on some ominous warning about Bulgaria,” Ginny said, tapping her wand impatiently against her leg.
“Look, Ginny, I know there’s this weird two-date history with you and Harry, and I just to let you know that I’m okay with that. I’m not worried about you at all, because after all, I do have his ring on my finger.”
“I’m glad you’re okay with what’s happened in the past, Gabrielle. And now that we’ve got that out of the way, if you’ll excuse me, I really need to be going,” Ginny said, exasperated. She made a move to take a step around Gabrielle, when the other woman again stepped in front of her. Ginny, realizing that this nuisance wasn’t going to give in, looked up at the other’s woman’s face, and saw the hard glint in her eyes.
“And I know that you are like a little sister to Harry, and how important it is to him that we become friends and that is fine. Just make sure that there will be no more late night visits from him to your office, Ginny, and you and I will get along just fine,” she said, her tone becoming menacing. Well, she’s related to Malfoy after all. Being a conniving little git must come with the territory, Ginny thought.
“Then consider us the best of friends, as I know for a fact that Harry will never be stopping by my office ever again,” Ginny said brightly, albeit through gritted teeth. Gabrielle looked startled by Ginny’s reaction, and with that, Ginny stepped around her, and proceeded into Diagon Alley.
Checking the clock in the square as she dashed by, she saw that she was already ten minutes late. Bloody hell, I have twenty minutes to meet with the consul before my meeting with Malfoy. Lack of sleep and the stress of her tardiness wreaking havoc on her mood already, Ginny wondering in passing what her temperament would be like at the end of it.
* * * * *
Draco Malfoy irritably noted that Ms. Virginia Weasley was officially seventeen minutes late for their appointment. Being a man who was self-admittedly far to arrogant to wait for anyone, he was surprised at his own reluctance to just leave, and let the girl handle her own mess with Bulgaria. But there is something about her that you find fascinating, a voice from the back on his mind explained. Perhaps it was all of that fire she had, buried under carefully maintained layers of ice. He figured it would be quite the show when she finally let it all loose on the world. Shrugging off the thought with a slight chuckle, he glanced again at the clock, and noted that another minute had passed.
And with that observation brought a very harried-looking Weasley into the posh coffee shop they had arranged to meet at. Draco watched carefully as she came crashing through the door and hurriedly scanned the room. Watching out of the corner of his eyes, he saw her spot him, and suddenly all the rush seemed to melt away and she was walking, all relaxed and easy steps, as if it was of no consequence to her that she had kept him waiting. Oh, she is good at this, he thought.
He ran his eyes over her, taking in her outward appearance, knowing that any information he could glean would help him. The beautiful art of diplomacy was quite a choreographed dance, and by keeping him waiting on her (and him allowing himself to wait for her) had put her at an advantage.
She had a dark stain on her knees, as though she had been kneeling the mud. Her suit, he noticed, was black again, this time her skirt falling just above the knee, and managed to accent her small frame, creating sleek lines and an air of sophistication he was surprised to see in a Weasley. But, the dark circles marring her otherwise porcelain face, and the loose strands of hair escaping the tight knot at the back of her head spoke of the type of morning she had been having: she was obviously edgy, tired and stressed. And that, he noted triumphantly, was his vantage point.
“Hello, Mr. Malfoy. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting,” she said smoothly, sitting down.
“By all means, Ms. Weasley, these things do happen,” he answered.
“Alright then, if we could begin, I have here a copy of the agreement for you to look over, and if you have any specific questions, I think that would be the best place to start,” she said, her tone professional and slightly curt. Oh, she’s a determined little woman, he thought. Most would waste time in idle chitchat, attempting to make the situation seem more social, less confrontational. She was taking charge, and if he didn’t act quickly, he would be lost to her obvious skill. And where’s the challenge in that?
“Ms. Weasley, I have to admit, I am rather curious. How did a girl like you get involved in the world of Ministry politics?” he asked, suddenly. He received the desired reaction, as she frowned, put off by his unexpected question.
“If you grew up in the house I did, it’s practically in your blood. Now, if you could be please divert your attention to concession number 8, this is where Bulgaria would be directly affected—”
“—Yes, I understand you are connected through your family, but how did you personally become involved? It’s very rare for one to find a consul as young as you are,” he persisted, interrupting her. He quelled an urge to smile as he noticed that her face was slowly beginning to grow flush.
“I was Minister Fudge’s secretary starting the summer after I left Hogwarts. My job consisted mainly of contacting important members in the community regarding specific decrees or initiatives that he was introducing. I apparently approved to be fairly persuasive, and the next thing I know, I was promoted. Does that answer satisfy your curiosity, Mr. Malfoy?” she asked, forcing a smile.
“Yes it does.”
“Excellent. Now, about concession 8—”
“You know, it was such as shame that you had to duck out of Harry and Gabrielle’s party so early, you missed quite the speech by the infallible hero.” She visibly tensed, and her eyes narrowed slights. Oh yes, that was definitely the card to play, he thought triumphantly. He’d have to remember that for future reference.
“Yes, it was a shame, but I had some paperwork to care of.”
“Ah, paperwork. Yes, it’s quite annoying how often that seems to interfere with the things that we would most like to do. Speaking of which, I am terribly sorry, but as much as I would love to continue with this discussion, I have quite the pile of my own paperwork waiting for me, and an appointment that I have to keep,” he said, apologetically, standing up. She just stared up at him, startled. He was about to step away from the table, when, right on cue, she was standing in front of him.
“Malfoy, you better not think you’re leaving without even glancing at the agreement,” she hissed, all pretenses of diplomacy forgotten.
“If you had been on time, this would not have been a problem,” he answered back smugly.
“And if you hadn’t wasted time with trivial questions, and actually focused on the subject at hand, we could have at least made some headway,” she shot back.
“Terribly sorry. Please let me know how this little deal goes for you. Be interesting to know if it actually passes.”
“Oh no you don’t, Malfoy. Okay, new deal. Why don’t we just shove protocol aside and agree on the fact that it is impossible for us to do this successfully through diplomatic means? Why don’t we acknowledge the fact that we cannot stand each other and would rather be anywhere else in the world then in this spot, right now, together, and discussing a deal that you are so against, unless you can find something in here for yourself? There’s a reason you’re here, you have some sort of motive, so why don’t you stop playing with me, pull your head out of your arse, and discuss this with me like an intelligent human, rather than trying to play your sly Slytherin games with me,” she raged while miraculously keeping her voice low enough not to disturb those around her.
“Weasley, if Fudge could only see you now, I know there’d be no doubt in his mind why he hired you.”
“Shut up, Malfoy and sit down, because we are not finished here,” she said coolly, evenly and with a great deal of authority.
“As far as I’m concerned, we are finished. Because as it stands, that deal will never, under any circumstances, be signed by Bulgaria, which is something that I have been trying to inform your office since the time it was first drafted. Your complete ignorance about the culture of Bulgaria’s wizarding community is what is holding this back, not some evil politician as you assume that I am. If you would like to know why, feel free to contact me so that we can discuss this at a later date, but as it stands now, I have an appointment to keep. Good day,” he said, and turning walking away.
He left a Ginny Weasley sitting alone at the table, stunned into silence.
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