Was I Ever Loved By You?

BLIND DATE

Don't tell me what it's all about

'Cause I've been there and I'm glad I'm out

Out of those chains, those chains that bind you

That is why I'm here to remind you.

What do you get when you fall in love?

You only get lies and pain and sorrow

So, for at least, until tomorrow

I'll never fall in love again

Oh, I'll never fall in love again

I´ll Never Fall In Love Again

by Mary Chapin Carpenter

* * * * *

Harry looks from me to Malfoy, his eyes widen when he realizes who he´s staring at. "Malfoy?"

"Nice to see you too, Potter," Malfoy says with a smirk.

"I thought you were..."

"Dead?" Malfoy finishes. "Not quite."

Harry says nothing as he takes in his old school rival. He has forgotten my presence momentarily, but Monique certainly hasn´t. She´s looking at me like I´m a piece of bubblegum stuck to the bottom of her stiletto.

"Hello, Harry," I try to say calmly, though it sounds a bit weak. "How are you?"

He turns and looks at me closely. "Fine," he says slowly. "And you?"

What hurts the most is that he´s probably telling the truth. He has been fine. Not hopelessly lost like I am. Monique isn´t touching him, but she moves closer to Harry, almost as if she´s saying "He´s mine now". I want to throw my glass of water in her face, but I don´t.

Instead I swallow, manage a weak smile and say, "Fine, fine."

His eyes seem to soften and he frowns slightly. He knows I´m lying. I glance over at Malfoy and I see it in his eyes too, a sort of recognition. Hell, even Monique the Muppet can see that I´m lying. I suddenly feel like crying.

"Potter," says Malfoy, drawing Harry´s attention toward himself again, "isn´t there an old lady that needs help crossing the street somewhere?"

Harry blinks. "What?"

"Shouldn´t you be saving the world, or sharpening pencils in that large office job the Ministry gave to you? Surely you have something to occupy your time rather than wasting ours."

I see Harry visibly tense. Malfoy´s words have hit a nerve. He´s always been rather sensitive about the job he was handed by the Ministry after defeating the Dark Lord.

"Malfoy, what are you doing here anyway?" Harry asks.

"I was having a pleasant dinner, until you came along."

Harry looks at Malfoy and then to me. "You mean you two are together?"

"We´re sitting at the same table, aren´t we?"

"He´s my new boss," I say quickly. "It´s just a business meeting."

"Harry, let´s go," says Monique grabbing him by the arm. "We´re going to be late."

"Yes, pencils await, Potter."

Harry ignores Malfoy and turns to me. "It was good seeing you again, Ginny."

He could have been talking to a mere acquaintance for all the feeling behind it.

I nod, not able to say anything else, and watch as they disappear into the surrounding tables. I turn back to Malfoy to see a smile playing on his lips. "He hasn´t changed a bit, has he?"

I glare at him. "Why did you do that?"

He looks slightly surprised. "Do what?"

"Act like we were here...together!"

"Weasley, we are here together."

"You know what I mean! You were egging him on. You wanted him to come at you."

"Did I?" he asks, looking bored.

"Yes, you did."

"Didn´t you?" he says, raising an eyebrow.

"No!" I say quickly.

"It´s a shame he didn´t. It would have made a good story."

"You can´t be serious."

"One thing I´ve learned, Weasley. Sometimes where there isn´t any news you´ve got to make your own."

"That´s the most immoral, underhanded, dirty and sleazy thing I´ve ever heard."

"It´s good business. People want to be entertained. You know that."

"All I know is that I shouldn`t have expected anything more from a Malfoy."

"And just what do you mean by that?" he asks, his eyes glinting.

"Nothing. Just... once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin."

"And once a hopeless Gryffindor, always a hopeless Gryffindor. When are you going to stop putting on a brave face and get him back?"

I look at him aghast. "What?"

"I saw the way you were looking at him. Like it didn´t bother you seeing him here. Who are you trying to fool?"

"What right do you have to tell me about anything?" I ask, scooting my chair away from the table. "You come out of nowhere thinking you can tell me how to live my life? You don´t care."

"Of course I don´t," he said, his voice low. "I do care about my galleons though, and I have quite a few invested in Witch Weekly. I need an editor who is thinking about her magazine. Not off in I-Worship-The-Ground-Harry-Potter-Walks-On Land. I can´t have you thinking about Potter while the magazine goes down in flames. My galleons are involved, therefore I´m willing to overstep bounds that I normally wouldn´t touch with a ten foot pole. Your love life being one of them."

He leans towards me as the waiter lays the check on the table between us.

"Pull yourself together, woman. You weren´t the youngest editor in the history of Witch Weekly because of your good looks. Believe me, I checked. You were the best at your job. You still could be. You´ve got three months to pull Weekly out of the hole it´s in. Three months to prove to me that you still have it in you. But first you´re going to have to pull your head out of the sand and look around you. There are stories out there to be told if you`ll just look. Who knows, you might even find your own."

I stare at him open-mouthed as I find myself, once again, unable to speak.

"And don´t even think about quitting," he says smugly as he stands and pulls some galleons from his pocket, throwing them on the table. "You do, and I´ll have you blacklisted so fast you won´t know what hit you. See you at the office." Then I watch as he Disapparates, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

' Only a Malfoy. Only a Malfoy would threaten me with thinly veiled compliments and then prevent me from quitting by using his wealth. I sigh, once a Slytherin, always a Slytherin.

* * * * *

It´s finally Friday night and I´m lounging about the house in a pair of Ron´s old pajamas. They are a tad big, but comfortable nevertheless. I´m bored out of my mind. Mum and Dad are sitting downstairs talking about Charlie´s upcoming wedding. Honestly, I had all but given up on Charlie ever getting married when he had turned thirty and there was still no sign of a significant other. He had surprised us all last week, though, by owling us to tell us he had proposed to his girlfriend, Karen, and she had accepted.

I pick up a book on my bedside table that Colin has lent me. It´s called, "How To Be the Woman You Are." I wonder why Colin has such a book, as he is not a woman. Perhaps he bought it for me, which doesn´t explain why he can afford self-help books, but never dinner. And for that matter, if I am the woman I am, how can I be her? I already am her, aren`t I?

I flop down on my bed and open the book in an effort to answer my questions when my door flies open. "There you are," says a grinning Fred. "Come on, then."

"Come where?"

"With me. We´re having dinner with George."

"I don´t remember that."

He ignores me. "Hurry, will you?"

I look down at the book in my hand for a moment and then toss it aside. "Okay. Just let me get dressed."

Five minutes later I descend down the stairs having thrown on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and my leather jacket.

"You aren´t going to wear that, are you?" Fred asks, raising an eyebrow.

"What´s wrong with it?" I ask, a little offended that a man who once wore a fluffy pink bunny suit for publicity is critiquing my wardrobe.

"Well, it´s not very sexy, is it?"

"Sexy?" I ask. "Since when do I have to dress sexy for my twin brothers?"

"It does look a bit drab, dear," Mum says, adding her two sickles. "Maybe you should wear something more colorful."

"That´s it," I say, stopping on the bottom stair. "I´m staying."

"No you aren´t," Fred says, grabbing my hand. "That´ll do, come on."

"Where are we going?" I ask, as he pulls me toward the fireplace.

"Hogsmeade. George is closing up shop."

He steps in into the fireplace, tosses some Floo Powder and says, "The Three Broomsticks." I watch as he disappears.

"Have a nice time, dear." Mum says from her needlework. Dad is nodding off behind his paper. I sigh and step in the fireplace. I toss the Floo powder and say "The Three Broomsticks."

* * * * *

Fred is waiting for me and we make our way over to the corner booth occupied by George.

"Hey, Ginny," he says, grinning at me.

"Hello, George," I say, taking a seat across from him and Fred. Fred is looking around eagerly. "Who are you looking for? Are Angelina and Alicia joining us?"

"Ah, they had other plans," says Fred with a mischievous look in his eye.

"Oh," I say, slightly disappointed. It´s been ages since I´ve talked to my sister-in-laws. In fact its been ages since I´ve had any female to talk to. (Besides Mum, who most definitely doesn´t count.) It´s almost funny how my life is full of men, just all the wrong kinds.

"Ginny, we want you to meet someone," says Fred. I look up to see a tall, dark haired man approaching, his hands full of butterbeers. "This is Lars Stephano. A business associate of ours."

He flashes me a smile as he unloads his cargo and offers his hand. I shake it and look up to see George and Fred grinning at each other. It doesn´t take me long to figure out what´s going on.

"Lars here has been working for us for about three months," George says. He makes it sound as if it is on par with winning a Nobel Peace Prize.

"Isn´t that nice," I say, glaring at George and Fred.

"Isn´t it?" Fred says, smiling broadly at me.

"Your brothers tell me you work for Witch Weekly," Lars says handing me a butterbeer.

"Yes, I do," I say, taking the proffered drink.

"That sounds terribly interesting," he says, staring at me.

"Oy, Fred!" George says suddenly hitting himself on the head in an overdramatic attempt at surprise. "I forgot completely we were supposed to go to the show with Angelina and Alicia tonight, remember?"

Fred raises his eyebrow. "Oh yeah! How could we have forgotten?"

I put down my butterbeer and cross my arms. "Which show?"

Fred shrugs. "Um...that really long, musical, boring one..."

George frowns at me. "Ginny, this is terrible. You should stay and eat with Lars."

"Yes, on us!" Fred says, standing up. "Get whatever you like."

"Terribly sorry for having to run." George says, not looking sorry at all. "You know the girls, though. They´ll have our heads if we´re late!"

"You two have fun, now," Fred says with a wink and they practically run away before I can say another word

"Too bad they had to go," Lars says. "So sudden."

The twins have managed to get me again. This time they haven´t set me up for a prank, instead they´ve set me up on a blind date. I have to give it to them, I walked right into it.

"So..." Lars says, grinning at me.

I don´t return his smile, "So what exactly did the twins tell you about me?"

"Well, they told me that you work at Witch Weekly. You´re too smart for your own good. and you hate Quidditch. What they didn´t tell me is how pretty you are," he says moving closer. I scoot away from him. "Look, I have to go. Can you let me out please?"

"Where are you going?"

"Home."

He frowns. "But why? We´re just getting to know one another."

I look him in the eye. "I don´t want to get to know you."

He looks genuinely hurt. "Why not?"

"Look, I´m sure you´re a really great guy. But Fred and George are the last two people that I would want trying to set me up."

"I´m not that bad am I?"

"Consider yourself lucky. Think about it this way, I´m letting you off the hook."

"Off the hook?"

I sigh, wishing he would just let me out. "Did they tell you I bite my nails? Well, I do. I eat in bed, I forget birthdays, I double-dip, I´m mean when I´m drunk, I don´t think before I speak, I´m a slob, I smoke occasionally, I hate children, I eat everything in sight when I´m depressed, I´m a terrible liar, and everything I touch turns to absolute rubbish. Did they tell you that?" I ask pushing him out of the booth. He looks at me shocked as I climb out. "I didn´t think so," I say as I grab my coat and hurry out the door.

"Wait!" Lars calls behind me as I make my way up the street towards the joke shop.

I shut my eyes. Why can´t everyone just leave me alone?

"Ginny, wait!" he says, grabbing my coat.

"What?" I snap, turning to look at him. He looks slightly scared of me now.

"Can we start over? I mean, I don´t think we got off on the right foot."

"No, we can´t start over. I want to go home."

"You can´t go home. Your brothers are going..." he stops abruptly. "I mean, I´d hate for us to part company like this."

"My brothers are going to what?" I ask, taking a step towards him. He looks away from me quickly.

Suddenly, it hits me. "What did they promise you in return for going out with me?"

"N-nothing," he says stepping back.

"WHAT?" I scream.

"J-just a couple of galleons, that´s all."

"They paid you?" I ask, unable to believe my ears. "They paid you money?"

He nods.

I make a frustrated noise and exhale through my nose. They´re dead. Both of them. I wrap my coat around me and start walking up the street again.

"Ginny," Lars calls out meekly behind me.

"What?" I say, annoyed as I stop outside the joke shop and turn to look at him.

He shrinks back slightly and turns a bit red, "I´ll give the money back. I...I just wanted to know if I could call you sometime. You`re kind of cute when you`re angry."

I turn without saying another word, mutter the security password for the shop and slam the door behind me.

* * * * *