Chapter 23- Working Nine to Five (What a Way to Make a Living)

The seventh page of the book held a business card emblazoned with MALFOY, BLACK, & ASSOCIATES. It was very somber-looking—black with bold, stern writing—but it made Ginny smile.

"This is Harry's newest proposition. He tried to accommodate all the changes you wanted made to the task forces."

Blaise barely glanced at the paper before throwing it viciously back at Ginny. "Well you can tell Harry that his newest proposition is ridiculous; I don't have this kind of manpower and he knows it!"

Ginny drew a deep breath and mentally counted to ten as she smoothed the parchment and put it back in her bag. This had been the most miserable meeting she'd ever had with him, excluding the time he'd accidentally eaten a product of Fred and George's and been able to communicate only through sexual innuendos. No, scratch that—that meeting had at least been fun for one of them. "Are you familiar with the phrase 'don't curse the messenger'? Let's try to implement that plan of action from now on, shall we?"

Blaise glared at her. "You're not amusing."

"I'm not trying to be." Ginny leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest. "What's your problem? You've been a bloody terror all day."

Instead of snipping at her angrily as she'd expected, Blaise sighed and bent out of sight behind his desk. He reappeared a moment later with a box wrapped in plain brown paper; he set it on the desk between them. "This is my problem."

Ginny just looked at him; sometimes it was way too easy to mock him. "Oh, you have a box. This all makes perfect sense now."

Blaise shook his head and made to move the box back behind the desk. "Forget about it. It doesn't matter."

"Blaise." Ginny put a hand on the box, halting its movement. "I'm sorry. Please, tell me what's so upsetting about the box."

Blaise sighed heavily. "It contains extremely important information that needs to reach its owner as soon as possible, but it's also highly sensitive, to the point that either I need to hand deliver it to him or he needs to come get it from me himself."

"Okay, so what's the problem?"

"The problem is that neither of us have the time to make the exchange happen. Every second counts with this delivery, but some of the contents of this box are too volatile or rare to risk transporting by floo or apparition; it has to be done by muggle transportation."

Ginny frowned. "You can't have one of your aurors do it?"

Blaise was shaking his head before she finished the sentence. "Even if I had a spare auror to take care of my personal business, which I don't, I can't take the risk of that person's curiosity getting the best of them."

Ginny was silent for a moment. "What about me?"

"No."

"Oh, come on. The whole reason I'm here right now is because I'm good at keeping secrets and transporting classified information. I want to help."

"Ginny-"

"Blaise."

He looked at her for a moment, considering, then nodded his assent. Some of the tension in his face instantly eased. "Thank you."

A knock sounded at the door and Blaise's secretary stuck her head inside. "Mr. Zabini, the Minister would like to see you in his office."

"Tell him I'll be there momentarily." Blaise waited for the door to close again, then addressed Ginny as he stood and moved to the fireplace. "You're going to Knockturn Alley. Just charge the ticket back to England to the Ministry; I'll take care of it."

"Wait, Knockturn Alley-"

Blaise continued as though he hadn't heard her, grasping a handful of floo powder as he talked. "Don't give that to anyone but Draco himself. You can get his information from Delaney on your way out."

And with that, Blaise threw the floo powder into the fireplace, spoke his destination, and was gone, leaving a very unhappy Ginny in his wake; she muttered to the empty office as she gathered her notes from their meeting.

"Thanks again, Ginny, I know how inconvenient it will be for you to take muggle transportation all the way back to a shoddy, disreputable alley in London. Oh, I didn't mention you'd be going all the way to England? Terribly sorry about that. I know it will be especially pleasant for you to deliver a package to the man who asked you on a date that you haven't agreed to yet. Oh wait, what's that? I forgot to mention that little detail before? Oh well, I'm sure it won't be at all awkward for you to show up on his doorstep when there's a giant elephant in the room!"

Ginny swept out of the office, slamming the door behind her. She glanced over to see Blaise's secretary looking at her mildly. "Men are pigs!"

Delaney wordlessly lifted the dish on her desk, offering it to Ginny. "Chocolate?"

"Oh yes, because my gaining weight and breaking out will certainly help him realize the error of his ways." Ginny took a chocolate anyway.

"Do you want to stick a pin in my Blaise Zabini voodoo doll, then? It's incredibly therapeutic."

Ginny swallowed the melting chocolate, her interest piqued. "How closely does it resemble him?"

"A perfect likeness."

Some hours later, Ginny stood in the farthest end of Knockturn Alley looking from the business card Delaney had given her to the imposing building in front of her. 'MALFOY, BLACK, & ASSOCIATES' was engraved across the top in large, serious letters. Underneath that and in slightly smaller letters were the names of the partners: Lucius Malfoy, Brendan Black, Draco Malfoy. A chill ran down Ginny's spine, and she instinctively took a step back before catching herself. Leave it to the snobby rich ones to even have buildings that were intimidating.

Twenty minutes later, after a confrontation that eventually involved flooing Blaise to convince the security guard at the front desk to let her through, Ginny stood in front of the offices of the named partners. Each door had a gold plate bearing the name of its occupant, and each occupant had a private secretary guarding said door from unwanted intrusion. The particular woman who resided in front of Draco's door was younger than the other two, and she was the only one of the three who looked up as Ginny approached.

"I'm here to see Draco."

"Do you have an appointment?"

Ginny decided immediately that she didn't like this woman. There was something in the way she snootily pursed her lips after asking the question that conveyed an immediate disdain for the redhead she was addressing. Nevertheless, Ginny attempted to be polite.

"No, I don't, but-"

"I'm sorry," said the snooty lip-purser in a tone that suggested she was anything but. "You can't see him without an appointment."

"I just need to speak with him for one moment."

"I'm afraid that won't be possible."

"I have a delivery for him, a package from a friend."

"Of course you do."

Ginny bit back a retort and tried again. "If you'll just tell him I'm here, I'm sure he'll want to see me."

"Look, red, you're pretty and all, but not that pretty."

Ginny swallowed hard. "Excuse me?"

The secretary sighed and put aside all pretense of subtle dislike, running her eyes disdainfully up and down Ginny's figure. "You're not the first girl to have tried this—though you're the first who didn't have the consideration to bathe first—and I can tell you in all sureness that he's not at all interested in your 'package'. Now, are you going to go willingly, or do I have to call security?"

Ginny lost it. In an instant, she had her wand out and inches from the snooty lip-purser's face, who now looked decidedly less cocky than a moment before. "Look, Barbie, I want you to listen and listen well. In the past several hours, I have taken the subway from the French Ministry to the coast of France, ridden a ferry from France to England, ridden another subway to London, hired a taxi to come back to London after missing my stop, and fought my way through the scum of Knockturn Alley to get here. I have dealt with brainless muggles, angry customs officers, and a security guard who was more interested in coming onto me with brainless innuendos about what we could do with our wands than checking me for dangerous paraphernalia. I am hungry, tired, not to mention thoroughly pissed off, and no gold-digging bitch whose only ambition in life is getting her boss into her knickers is going to tell me I can't do what I came to do. Now, has the bleach in your hair fried all your brain cells, or can you understand what I'm saying?"

Blondie's mouth, which had dropped open partway through Ginny's rant, began to form a reply, but the intercom on her desk buzzed to life before she could get it out.

"Whose dulcet tones am I hearing out there, Clara?" God, he even sounded like a smug, wry bastard through the intercom. "More importantly, why haven't they been silenced yet?"

Blondie—sorry, Clara—reached to reply but Ginny beat her to it. "Hhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiiiii, Draco."

There was a moment of silence. "Weaselette?"

"The one and only," Ginny said triumphantly, shooting a victorious look at Blondie. "I have a package for you from Blaise, though I'm not sure you want to take it, as that apparently means he wants to have sex with you."

"Excuse me?" Draco's voice sounded amused.

"Your secretary thought the package was from me, so she told me I wasn't good enough to have sex with you, but according to the witches running the Most Eligible Bachelor column in Witch Weekly you really can't do much better than Blaise, so I think you'd better accept it."

One of the other secretaries burst out laughing.

The intercom was silent for a moment. "Weasley, get in here."

Ginny straightened and walked through the door, beaming with self-satisfaction. "Greetings, Mal-ferret." She paused and looked around, letting out a low whistle. "Great office. You could use a new receptionist, though; I don't think it's normal to have a picture of your boss hidden in your cleavage."

Draco was obviously wrestling with himself as to what his reaction to her sudden, conspicuous appearance should be. At the moment, it looked to be hovering between amusement and pureblooded disdain. "Have you been smoking floo powder?"

"Why does everyone always think that? It was one time!"

Draco raised an eyebrow questioningly.

Ginny shrugged. "Call it the foolishness of youth. It actually gives you a decent buzz, but there's always the chance you'll end up in Bora Bora with nothing but the clothes on your back and a pipe full of floo powder, so I gave it up."

Draco's second eyebrow joined the first.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I'm kidding. I'm just really exhausted. Blaise said this was important."

Draco took the package and sighed, a small smile coming over his face. "It is. You have no idea what this means. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

They stood in silence for a moment, during which time Ginny became aware of just how disgusting she felt right then.

"Alright, I'm going to shove off then. I need a shower, and you obviously have work to do."

Ginny was out the door before Draco had a chance to reply. She waltzed past the silently fuming Blondie, then doubled back and pressed the intercom speaker again.

"Oh, and Draco?"

"Yes?"

"I would love to go on a date with you."