A/N: So, first of all, declarations of love go to my beta, Funnykido! Much thanks and cookies being sent your way ^_^
Second, all plotlines that aren't yet revealed (ie. the upcoming Ron/Ginny/Percy/Harry one) will be revealed eventually. It's just, I love to create tension and suspense, and keeping you all on the edge of your seats makes me deleriously happy ^_^ *laughs with sadistical glee*
Chapter Three
An Unanticipated Invitation
“Morning Luna,” Ginny muttered over the top of the cubicle wall, and Luna jumped up, a large smile across her face.
“Guess who’s been the topic of all conversation since you left yesterday…”
Ginny groaned. She smiled wanly and vaguely suggested, “Stephanie Turdpike, because she broke her ankle attempting to do that Muggle dance… the Trotfox or something?”
“No such luck.” Luna smirked. “And she didn’t break it, it was only a hairline fracture. Stupid slag.”
Ginny snorted and spilt her coffee. “Luna!”
“All right, all right! But it was. Who fractures their hairline anyway?” She poked her tongue out at Ginny. “That’s not the point though. Everyone thinks you’re going to get fired.”
Ginny grimaced as she attempted to wipe the coffee from her robes. “It’s highly likely.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Luna scolded. “Everyone saw what happened. If she fired you for doing extra work, she’d have an enquiry on her hands!” Ginny nodded, supposing Luna was right. “And the only thing that’s going to get that stain out is Bubotuber Pus.”
“Ick, that won’t work! Don’t be daft.”
“I’m not. It’s either that or take it somewhere to get it out, and that costs something terrible. I suggest the Bubotubers.”
Ginny rolled her eyes and muttered, “Why does that not surprise me?” the minute Luna disappeared.
“Oh!” Luna said suddenly, reappearing over the wall and startling Ginny. “This came for you this morning, special delivery. The boy wouldn’t say who it was from.” She handed over a thin white envelope, unstamped and unsigned, with only the words “Ginevra Weasley,” written in an elegant cursive script.
“Thanks,” Ginny said as she took the envelope from Luna, and she disappeared again. Cautiously, Ginny took her letter opener from the pen jar and slid it beneath the unstamped wax seal, breaking it.
Inside was a clean, immaculately folded piece of parchment. It barely even looked as if it had been touched by human hands. Ginny unfolded the parchment and read what was on it, thoroughly confused by what it said, and yet at the same time, intrigued.
Miss Weasley,
I cordially invite you to attend a meeting at the Purple Dragon tonight at precisely 6.30pm. Please attend alone.
I must apologise for my forwardness, and I am disinclined to divulge my name, though I can give you my word that you are most assuredly safe in my company. What reassurance that may give you, if any, I do not know, but it is all I am capable of bestowing upon you.
I look forward to our meeting.
X
Ginny frowned and read the note over twice more before finally folding it up and putting it back into the envelope. As soon as the flap was closed, it suddenly disintegrated into a pile of ashes on the carpet of her cubicle, and she watched with wide eyes as even that disappeared into nothing.
“Luna!” Ginny called over the wall, and she appeared instantly.
“Hmm?”
“Where is the Purple Dragon?”
Luna’s eyes widened. “Why do you want to know?”
“Uh.,. because I might be going out to dinner. Tonight.”
“Alone?” Luna squeaked, her eyes almost the size of saucers now.
“Yes, alone. What’s wrong? Is it a bad place?”
Luna relaxed instantly. “Oh no, I’ve been there with Father more times than I care to count. It’s a very high ranking restaurant off of Perpetue Alley. You must be very rich to dine there. How could you ever afford it?”
“Actually… I lied – I might be going with someone,” Ginny told her friend distractedly, her cheeks flushing.
“Oh yes? Who is the lucky fellow?”
Ginny smirked and tapped the side of her nose, enjoying the look of frustration on Luna’s face. “Why were you so shocked when I asked you about it?”
Luna’s face grew serious again, and she leaned in over the wall. “Well… Father told me once that, it, well…” Luna looked over her shoulder, glancing around to make sure no one was listening in. “He told me they do strange things there. Things that only their money and high status hides…” She nodded covertly. “You know the employees that they have there are all foreign? They are taught not to speak a word of English, other than the menus. Obviously they must pick stuff as they go along, and so they’re always firing employees when they learn too much.”
Ginny didn’t look entirely convinced as Luna continued. “Anyway, Father says that the regulars, high ranking Ministry Officials and whatnot (mind you, not Scrimgeour, old sourpuss), they get together on a regular basis and…”
“And what?”
“Well, no one knows, exactly. Which is what points to it being some shady business. And then there’s all the non-English speaking employees, of course. If you ask me, they’re smuggling Bolluters into the country, some highly secret plot to rid the world of commuters.”
Ginny snorted. “Commuters? You mean like people who catch the Knightbus to get to work?”
“What?” Luna asked dazedly. “That’s not what commuters are!”
“Uh, yes it is.”
“Oh, sod off! It is not.” Luna huffed and crossed her arms over, looking miffed. “Commuters are those funny box things that Muggles stare at all day! It’s only logical that anyone should get rid of them, Muggles are getting so lazy these days.”
Ginny blinked a few times, before shaking off Luna’s more than odd answer. “Uhm, right. Look, I’ve got to be off. The tours start in ten minutes.”
“Good luck, See you at lunch!”
The rest of the day passed excruciatingly slow, with Ginny conducting tours with only half the attention she had been giving for the past week. For the third time that day, Ginny bumped her thigh into the corner of the reception desk as she passed it on the way to Parkinson’s office, and for the third time that day Ginny let out a long line of profanity that, among other things, threatened disembowelment for all office appliances.
“You all right, Ginny?”
Ginny straightened up slowly, her eyes tight shut as she turned to face the man who had addressed her. Opening her eyes, all her fears were confirmed.
“Percy!” she exclaimed, plastering a smile on her face and attempting to see the good side in her eldest living brother being there. “How are you?”
He grimaced. “Look, you can stop pretending you’re happy to see me. I know you’re not. I need to ask a favour of you – I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
Ginny’s shoulders slumped and the smile disappeared instantly. “Excellent tactics brother. Tell me you only came to see me for yourself, and then ask the favour. But then, tact never was your greatest asset.” She glowered at him, ushering the last of the tourists out the door before announcing to Nancy that it was her lunch break. Luna could wait. “What can I do for you, dear brother.”
He winced and took her by the elbow, leading her out into an empty hallway. “I need… well, I need you to go see Ron.”
“Bollocks!” she cried, wrenching her arm from his grip. “You go see Ron, because I’ll certainly not go near him!”
“Look Ginny,” Percy continued, trying to reason with her, “You know he wasn’t exactly… well, right, after the Final War. And then when Harry started that stuff about you he, well, Ron lost it. You know how he is. He’s had time to cool down and I’m sure he’ll let you in.”
“I don’t give a toss what he’s like or how long he’s had to cool down, I’m not going!”
“Ginevra!” Percy said sternly as she moved to walk away, and he sounded so much like her father that she could have turned around and throttled Percy, the good for nothing rat.
“Percival!” she hissed back as she left the corridor and ducked through a series of doorways to get away from him.
Waiting until she was sure Percy was gone, Ginny came out of the women’s toilets and went back to her cubicle.
“Your brother was looking for you,” came Luna’s distant voice through the wall. “I told him you were incapacitated. He nearly hit the roof.”
“Thanks Luna,” Ginny said, snickering to herself. Luna was the only person Ginny knew who could ever really get under any of her brother’s skin. Except, perhaps, for Hermione Granger.
Sudden images of Hermione flashed across her mind, frizzy brown hair lying against stone rubble, dried blood throughout the locks. Brown eyes that looked so sad, so scared, and blood-stained hands, torn and shredded, begging her not to let Harry and Ron die. Telling Ginny she’d done her best, she was spent, she wasn’t so afraid of death after all, though anybody could see that was a lie.
Ginny shook her head, sickened by the images she saw, sickened by the memories that she tried not to think about since that terrible night three years ago. She didn’t want those memories any more than she wanted Elaine Parkinson to be her surrogate mother.
“You all right?” Luna asked, watching Ginny with concern, noticing the abrupt change in Ginny. Her face had suddenly gone a sickeningly pale white and her eyes were wild with emotion.
Ginny snapped back into the present, and smiled sadly. “Fine. Sorry I missed lunch.”
“No problem. I Figured it was Percy getting in the way.”
“So intuitive,” Ginny said, snickering.
Hours later Ginny stood in her front room checking she hadn’t forgotten anything. Her wand was in one pocket and she had some trusty old pepper spray in the other pocket. Her Wizarding Network card (with only 23 galleons on it, unfortunately) was stashed safely in the back pocket of her nicest pair of jeans, beneath her robes, and she’d even thrown a few of George’s Exploding Dung Bombs (with real dung!) into the mix, should anything go wrong.
Both curious and cautious, Ginny closed the door to her apartment and locked it, making her way down the stairs and getting into the Knightbus, patiently waiting for her. After telling them her destination and clearing up any confusion that she, Ginny Weasley, was going to be dining at the Purple Dragon, she was on her way.
It only took a few minutes and they were there. The Knightbus was gone the second she dropped from its last step onto the freshly rain-covered side walk of an obviously very prosperous area of London. She didn’t know where she was, exactly, but her best guess would be somewhere near Kensington.
Despite the murderous looks she was given by the concierge, Ginny’s table was found and she was seated promptly, though her table was, much to her chagrin, empty. Moments later she was joined, however.
“Ginevra Weasley, no?”
Ginny looked up into chocolate brown eyes surrounded by the slightest of wrinkles and a clearly Hispanic face. He held out his hand to her. “My name is Dominic Bellagio, I invited you here this night.”
She smiled and took his hand, smiling warmly as she shook it. “I must admit, Sir--”
“Dominic,” he interrupted, pulling out his chair and sitting down as he placed his briefcase beside the chair. “Call me Dominic, if you please.”
Ginny nodded obligingly. “Apologies, Dominic. I must admit that I was more than a little surprised by your… invitation. Especially the nature of it.”
“That will all be explained in good time, dear, though I am deathly relieved that you decided to show up tonight.”
“What am I doing here, exactly?” Ginny asked, looking about with obvious discomfort at the portion of the restaurant she could see. “It’s plain that I don’t belong here.”
“Says who?” he asked.
“Well…” Ginny glanced around at the few people who noticed her less than satisfactory attire. “Everybody. This isn’t my world, Mr. Bellagio.”
His laugh was hearty and warming, it almost sounded like the throaty tinkling of glass. “That, my dear, is all in your head. You belong here as much as everybody else. You just need to think that you do, no?” His accented English was charming, and he took Ginny’s hand in his own large and finely cared for one. “It is you that dictates you should not be here. Learn to be a little more open to possibility, Ginevra.”
“It’s Ginny.”
“No, dear, it is Ginevra. Do not be ashamed of such a beautiful and wholly unique name.” Ginny couldn’t help but blush, because when he said it, it was a beautiful and wholly unique name, and for once she was not ashamed to have someone call her it.
“You underestimate yourself, my dear,” he said, letting go of her hand and reaching for the briefcase at his side. “I am going to help you change that.”
Ginny’s eyebrow arched, and she watched on as Dominic pulled a manila folder from the depths of his case and dropped it onto the table. He put his briefcase back on the floor and nodded at the folder. “Open it, it is yours.”
Silently Ginny did as she was told, and pulled out a large bundle of papers.
Report on the Liberation of the Dark Arts and its Confinement in Smaller Wizarding Communities
- Written by Ginny Weasley
“What is this?” Ginny asked Dominic, shocked. “I threw this away yesterday!”
“I know,” he told her, obviously highly amused.
“But… how… where did you get it?”
“The bin, of course.”
“Of course,” Ginny echoed, flipping through the pages and checking to see it was all there. “And why have you brought me here, simply to give this back?”
Dominic Bellagio leaned closer to Ginny, glancing side to side in order to check for eavesdroppers. “Because, Ginevra Weasley, I have a proposition for you.”
Second, all plotlines that aren't yet revealed (ie. the upcoming Ron/Ginny/Percy/Harry one) will be revealed eventually. It's just, I love to create tension and suspense, and keeping you all on the edge of your seats makes me deleriously happy ^_^ *laughs with sadistical glee*
Chapter Three
An Unanticipated Invitation
“Morning Luna,” Ginny muttered over the top of the cubicle wall, and Luna jumped up, a large smile across her face.
“Guess who’s been the topic of all conversation since you left yesterday…”
Ginny groaned. She smiled wanly and vaguely suggested, “Stephanie Turdpike, because she broke her ankle attempting to do that Muggle dance… the Trotfox or something?”
“No such luck.” Luna smirked. “And she didn’t break it, it was only a hairline fracture. Stupid slag.”
Ginny snorted and spilt her coffee. “Luna!”
“All right, all right! But it was. Who fractures their hairline anyway?” She poked her tongue out at Ginny. “That’s not the point though. Everyone thinks you’re going to get fired.”
Ginny grimaced as she attempted to wipe the coffee from her robes. “It’s highly likely.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Luna scolded. “Everyone saw what happened. If she fired you for doing extra work, she’d have an enquiry on her hands!” Ginny nodded, supposing Luna was right. “And the only thing that’s going to get that stain out is Bubotuber Pus.”
“Ick, that won’t work! Don’t be daft.”
“I’m not. It’s either that or take it somewhere to get it out, and that costs something terrible. I suggest the Bubotubers.”
Ginny rolled her eyes and muttered, “Why does that not surprise me?” the minute Luna disappeared.
“Oh!” Luna said suddenly, reappearing over the wall and startling Ginny. “This came for you this morning, special delivery. The boy wouldn’t say who it was from.” She handed over a thin white envelope, unstamped and unsigned, with only the words “Ginevra Weasley,” written in an elegant cursive script.
“Thanks,” Ginny said as she took the envelope from Luna, and she disappeared again. Cautiously, Ginny took her letter opener from the pen jar and slid it beneath the unstamped wax seal, breaking it.
Inside was a clean, immaculately folded piece of parchment. It barely even looked as if it had been touched by human hands. Ginny unfolded the parchment and read what was on it, thoroughly confused by what it said, and yet at the same time, intrigued.
Miss Weasley,
I cordially invite you to attend a meeting at the Purple Dragon tonight at precisely 6.30pm. Please attend alone.
I must apologise for my forwardness, and I am disinclined to divulge my name, though I can give you my word that you are most assuredly safe in my company. What reassurance that may give you, if any, I do not know, but it is all I am capable of bestowing upon you.
I look forward to our meeting.
X
Ginny frowned and read the note over twice more before finally folding it up and putting it back into the envelope. As soon as the flap was closed, it suddenly disintegrated into a pile of ashes on the carpet of her cubicle, and she watched with wide eyes as even that disappeared into nothing.
“Luna!” Ginny called over the wall, and she appeared instantly.
“Hmm?”
“Where is the Purple Dragon?”
Luna’s eyes widened. “Why do you want to know?”
“Uh.,. because I might be going out to dinner. Tonight.”
“Alone?” Luna squeaked, her eyes almost the size of saucers now.
“Yes, alone. What’s wrong? Is it a bad place?”
Luna relaxed instantly. “Oh no, I’ve been there with Father more times than I care to count. It’s a very high ranking restaurant off of Perpetue Alley. You must be very rich to dine there. How could you ever afford it?”
“Actually… I lied – I might be going with someone,” Ginny told her friend distractedly, her cheeks flushing.
“Oh yes? Who is the lucky fellow?”
Ginny smirked and tapped the side of her nose, enjoying the look of frustration on Luna’s face. “Why were you so shocked when I asked you about it?”
Luna’s face grew serious again, and she leaned in over the wall. “Well… Father told me once that, it, well…” Luna looked over her shoulder, glancing around to make sure no one was listening in. “He told me they do strange things there. Things that only their money and high status hides…” She nodded covertly. “You know the employees that they have there are all foreign? They are taught not to speak a word of English, other than the menus. Obviously they must pick stuff as they go along, and so they’re always firing employees when they learn too much.”
Ginny didn’t look entirely convinced as Luna continued. “Anyway, Father says that the regulars, high ranking Ministry Officials and whatnot (mind you, not Scrimgeour, old sourpuss), they get together on a regular basis and…”
“And what?”
“Well, no one knows, exactly. Which is what points to it being some shady business. And then there’s all the non-English speaking employees, of course. If you ask me, they’re smuggling Bolluters into the country, some highly secret plot to rid the world of commuters.”
Ginny snorted. “Commuters? You mean like people who catch the Knightbus to get to work?”
“What?” Luna asked dazedly. “That’s not what commuters are!”
“Uh, yes it is.”
“Oh, sod off! It is not.” Luna huffed and crossed her arms over, looking miffed. “Commuters are those funny box things that Muggles stare at all day! It’s only logical that anyone should get rid of them, Muggles are getting so lazy these days.”
Ginny blinked a few times, before shaking off Luna’s more than odd answer. “Uhm, right. Look, I’ve got to be off. The tours start in ten minutes.”
“Good luck, See you at lunch!”
The rest of the day passed excruciatingly slow, with Ginny conducting tours with only half the attention she had been giving for the past week. For the third time that day, Ginny bumped her thigh into the corner of the reception desk as she passed it on the way to Parkinson’s office, and for the third time that day Ginny let out a long line of profanity that, among other things, threatened disembowelment for all office appliances.
“You all right, Ginny?”
Ginny straightened up slowly, her eyes tight shut as she turned to face the man who had addressed her. Opening her eyes, all her fears were confirmed.
“Percy!” she exclaimed, plastering a smile on her face and attempting to see the good side in her eldest living brother being there. “How are you?”
He grimaced. “Look, you can stop pretending you’re happy to see me. I know you’re not. I need to ask a favour of you – I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
Ginny’s shoulders slumped and the smile disappeared instantly. “Excellent tactics brother. Tell me you only came to see me for yourself, and then ask the favour. But then, tact never was your greatest asset.” She glowered at him, ushering the last of the tourists out the door before announcing to Nancy that it was her lunch break. Luna could wait. “What can I do for you, dear brother.”
He winced and took her by the elbow, leading her out into an empty hallway. “I need… well, I need you to go see Ron.”
“Bollocks!” she cried, wrenching her arm from his grip. “You go see Ron, because I’ll certainly not go near him!”
“Look Ginny,” Percy continued, trying to reason with her, “You know he wasn’t exactly… well, right, after the Final War. And then when Harry started that stuff about you he, well, Ron lost it. You know how he is. He’s had time to cool down and I’m sure he’ll let you in.”
“I don’t give a toss what he’s like or how long he’s had to cool down, I’m not going!”
“Ginevra!” Percy said sternly as she moved to walk away, and he sounded so much like her father that she could have turned around and throttled Percy, the good for nothing rat.
“Percival!” she hissed back as she left the corridor and ducked through a series of doorways to get away from him.
Waiting until she was sure Percy was gone, Ginny came out of the women’s toilets and went back to her cubicle.
“Your brother was looking for you,” came Luna’s distant voice through the wall. “I told him you were incapacitated. He nearly hit the roof.”
“Thanks Luna,” Ginny said, snickering to herself. Luna was the only person Ginny knew who could ever really get under any of her brother’s skin. Except, perhaps, for Hermione Granger.
Sudden images of Hermione flashed across her mind, frizzy brown hair lying against stone rubble, dried blood throughout the locks. Brown eyes that looked so sad, so scared, and blood-stained hands, torn and shredded, begging her not to let Harry and Ron die. Telling Ginny she’d done her best, she was spent, she wasn’t so afraid of death after all, though anybody could see that was a lie.
Ginny shook her head, sickened by the images she saw, sickened by the memories that she tried not to think about since that terrible night three years ago. She didn’t want those memories any more than she wanted Elaine Parkinson to be her surrogate mother.
“You all right?” Luna asked, watching Ginny with concern, noticing the abrupt change in Ginny. Her face had suddenly gone a sickeningly pale white and her eyes were wild with emotion.
Ginny snapped back into the present, and smiled sadly. “Fine. Sorry I missed lunch.”
“No problem. I Figured it was Percy getting in the way.”
“So intuitive,” Ginny said, snickering.
Hours later Ginny stood in her front room checking she hadn’t forgotten anything. Her wand was in one pocket and she had some trusty old pepper spray in the other pocket. Her Wizarding Network card (with only 23 galleons on it, unfortunately) was stashed safely in the back pocket of her nicest pair of jeans, beneath her robes, and she’d even thrown a few of George’s Exploding Dung Bombs (with real dung!) into the mix, should anything go wrong.
Both curious and cautious, Ginny closed the door to her apartment and locked it, making her way down the stairs and getting into the Knightbus, patiently waiting for her. After telling them her destination and clearing up any confusion that she, Ginny Weasley, was going to be dining at the Purple Dragon, she was on her way.
It only took a few minutes and they were there. The Knightbus was gone the second she dropped from its last step onto the freshly rain-covered side walk of an obviously very prosperous area of London. She didn’t know where she was, exactly, but her best guess would be somewhere near Kensington.
Despite the murderous looks she was given by the concierge, Ginny’s table was found and she was seated promptly, though her table was, much to her chagrin, empty. Moments later she was joined, however.
“Ginevra Weasley, no?”
Ginny looked up into chocolate brown eyes surrounded by the slightest of wrinkles and a clearly Hispanic face. He held out his hand to her. “My name is Dominic Bellagio, I invited you here this night.”
She smiled and took his hand, smiling warmly as she shook it. “I must admit, Sir--”
“Dominic,” he interrupted, pulling out his chair and sitting down as he placed his briefcase beside the chair. “Call me Dominic, if you please.”
Ginny nodded obligingly. “Apologies, Dominic. I must admit that I was more than a little surprised by your… invitation. Especially the nature of it.”
“That will all be explained in good time, dear, though I am deathly relieved that you decided to show up tonight.”
“What am I doing here, exactly?” Ginny asked, looking about with obvious discomfort at the portion of the restaurant she could see. “It’s plain that I don’t belong here.”
“Says who?” he asked.
“Well…” Ginny glanced around at the few people who noticed her less than satisfactory attire. “Everybody. This isn’t my world, Mr. Bellagio.”
His laugh was hearty and warming, it almost sounded like the throaty tinkling of glass. “That, my dear, is all in your head. You belong here as much as everybody else. You just need to think that you do, no?” His accented English was charming, and he took Ginny’s hand in his own large and finely cared for one. “It is you that dictates you should not be here. Learn to be a little more open to possibility, Ginevra.”
“It’s Ginny.”
“No, dear, it is Ginevra. Do not be ashamed of such a beautiful and wholly unique name.” Ginny couldn’t help but blush, because when he said it, it was a beautiful and wholly unique name, and for once she was not ashamed to have someone call her it.
“You underestimate yourself, my dear,” he said, letting go of her hand and reaching for the briefcase at his side. “I am going to help you change that.”
Ginny’s eyebrow arched, and she watched on as Dominic pulled a manila folder from the depths of his case and dropped it onto the table. He put his briefcase back on the floor and nodded at the folder. “Open it, it is yours.”
Silently Ginny did as she was told, and pulled out a large bundle of papers.
Report on the Liberation of the Dark Arts and its Confinement in Smaller Wizarding Communities
- Written by Ginny Weasley
“What is this?” Ginny asked Dominic, shocked. “I threw this away yesterday!”
“I know,” he told her, obviously highly amused.
“But… how… where did you get it?”
“The bin, of course.”
“Of course,” Ginny echoed, flipping through the pages and checking to see it was all there. “And why have you brought me here, simply to give this back?”
Dominic Bellagio leaned closer to Ginny, glancing side to side in order to check for eavesdroppers. “Because, Ginevra Weasley, I have a proposition for you.”
To Be Continued.
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