Was I Ever Loved By You?

'TIS THE SEASON

Silence stared me in the face

And I finally heard it's voice

It seemed to softly say

That in love you have a choice

Today I got the answer

And there was a world of truth behind it

Love it out there waiting somewhere

You just have to go and find it

I believe in love, I believe in love

Love that's real, love that's strong

Love that lives on and on

Yes, I believe in love

I Believe In Love by The Dixie Chics

* * * * *

"I can't do this," Ron says, shying away from the camera.

"Ron, you promised!" I chide, grabbing his arm and marching him back in front of the backdrop. He's wearing a Santa hat, a pair of boxers with tiny red hearts on them and nothing else. He wouldn't look bad, except his face is the same color as the hearts.

"Ginny, I'm going to be a laughingstock!"

"No you won't," I say reassuringly. "Just think sexy."

Colin, standing a few feet away, is trying to hide a smile as he raises his camera. "Okay, let's try again."

Ron stands there looking at the camera with his trademark worried grimace on his face.

"Ron," I say exasperated, "I said 'sexy,' not 'in pain.'"

Ron takes a deep breath and widens his grimace. Colin lowers his camera with a sigh.

"I know what he needs," he says. "Be back in a minute."

I nod and glance down at my watch. We've been here an hour and still have nothing to show for it. Ron frowns at me.

"Can't you find someone else?"

"Ron, for the hundredth time. no. Trust me, it's going to be great. You just need to loosen up a little."

"Exactly what I was thinking," Colin says, returning with a glass of clear liquid. "A few sips of this and you'll be fine."

"What is it?" Ron asks taking the glass uncertainly and sniffing it.

"Morgana's Abersnythe."

"What?" Ron says moving the glass away from him quickly.

My head snaps up. "Colin, that's illegal!"

"Only in Britain," Colin says calmly. "It's perfectly acceptable in other parts of the world. It's fine, see." He takes the glass and takes a sip.

My mouth drops open. "Colin!"

"It's perfectly fine, Virginia. It just helps you relax. Go on, Ron."

Ron looks at me uncertainly.

I shrug. "Maybe it would help?"

"Ginny, I'm an Auror! I can't drink MA!"

I put my hands on my hips. "Then get out there and take the pictures. It's not that hard, Ron. Just try."

Ron opens his mouth to protest.

"Ron!" I say. "You promised! Now just do it."

He sighs. "Give me that," he says grabbing the glass from Colin and taking a huge gulp.

I step back. I certainly hadn't been expecting that. MA is a colorless, tasteless and odorless substance that is very potent, relaxing and addictive. One sip was enough to knock a man Hagrid's size on his arse.

"That's the spirit!" Colin says smiling broadly. "Now get out there and show us what you've got."

Ron swallows and marches back towards the backdrop. Colin turns on a bit of music and shouts out directions. I watch with amazement, and not some alarm, as Ron slowly begins to warm up to the idea of being a British sex icon. After what seems forever and a considerable bit of life scarring on my part (one should never see her brother attempt the Macerena in boxers), Colin is finally out of film.

"That was great, Ron!" Colin calls out as he makes his way to the dressing room.

Ron turns around, slightly unsteadily, points a finger at him and winks.

Oh, God.

"Colin," I say nervously, "how much MA did you give him? Do you think he had too much?"

Colin looks at me blankly for a moment and then starts to chuckle.

"I didn't give him any."

"What?" I ask taken aback. "But the glass..."

"Water," Colin says, packing up his camera.

"Water?" I repeat, rather loudly. "You mean that was water that you gave him?"

"Yep. You'd be surprised how impressionable people are."

Ron emerges from the dressing room wearing a broad smile and considerably more clothing. He puts his arm around my shoulder and grins at me as he slurs his words, "You know, Ginny, that was kind of fun."

* * * * *

I look up startled as the door to my office is thrown open. A miffed looking Malfoy storms in and throws a copy of Witch Weekly on my desk.

"Weasley, what the hell is that?" he asks pointing savagely at the cover that features Ron.

I smile up at him. "That is Ron in boxers."

"I know that! What is it doing on my magazine? I told you to increase circulation not bring it to a bloody halt."

"I will increase circulation. Did you bother reading the article?" I ask patiently. I will not let him get to me. I will not.

"Yes, and I'm still at a loss as to how you plan on increasing circulation with this excuse for a charitable dating service."

"Do you know who the majority of our readers are? Witches between the ages of 18 and 35. Many of them single women who buy our magazine weekly to find out how to catch a wizard. We are a women's magazine after all. That's why this is a perfect idea. Ron is a celebrity, though not as well known as...Harry, he is a war hero. He's an Auror, women love a man in uniform. He's decent looking, he's well off and he's single. He's every reader's dream."

"He's my nightmare. I swear, Weasley, do you not know how to separate your personal life from your professional life?"

"Yes, of course I do!" I say standing up.

"It doesn't seem like it. I wouldn't be surprised if you have your mum writing articles on knitting next week."

I opened my mouth to reply that she does have quite a talent when it comes to knitting, when Colin stepped through the door without knocking. He was holding a huge bouquet of flowers. "Virginia, these came for you a minute ago."

"For me?" I ask looking at the bouquet in awe.

"Yes, who are they from?" Colin asks setting them down and handing the card to me.

"Creevey, we were having a meeting," Malfoy says dangerously.

Colin blinks at Malfoy, as I open the card.

"Sorry about the other night. I hope we can meet again sometime. Love, Lars," I read out loud.

"Lars! Who is Lars?" Colin asks.

I sigh, moving the flowers out of my line of vision. "No one."

"It doesn't look like he's no one," Colin says giving me a pointed look.

"Creevey, get out."

"You can tell me later," Colin says winking at me. "I can see you're busy."

"How long has that idiot been working here?" Malfoy asks when Colin has shut the door.

"Years, he's a very good photographer."

"He's annoying as hell."

"Look, you told me I had three weeks. You also said I was the best at what I do. All I'm asking for is a little faith. I guarantee you, readers will love this contest."

Instead of responding Malfoy reaches across my desk and picks up the note that came with the flowers. He turns it around and reads the back.

"P.S. I never should have accepted money for your company." He raises an eyebrow at me.

"It's a long story," I say hoping he won't ask for more.

"I have time for this one."

"Don't you know how to separate personal matters from professional ones? This is not a professional matter," I say, my cheeks burning.

"It sounds professional to me," he says. "Anything that requires payment for services is considered professional."

"I don't have to tell you anything. You're just going to laugh at me."

"You really don't have a choice, Weasley."

"Promise not to laugh."

"I can't in good conscience do that."

"Since when do you have a conscience?"

"Since when do you hire male prostitutes?"

"He's not a male prostitute!" I say shrilly. "He's just some guy Fred and George hired to go out with me."

"There's a difference?" Malfoy asks, grinning at me.

"Yes!" I say, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. Though, in all actuality, I really can't see the difference.

"What is it then?"

"Lars was more like a paid escort." Yes, that's it.

"I see," says Malfoy, smirking in a way that makes me want to punch him. He's still just as haughty as ever. "I want to meet with you next Wednesday to talk about the next issue."

"You want to meet on Christmas day?"

He blinks and looks at me a moment. "Is that Christmas? Sure, why not."

"I can't!" I cry. "I mean it is Christmas, my family will be home."

"Oh yes, family," he says, and I swear I see something almost like sadness in his eyes. ""The day after, then?"

"What are you doing for Christmas?" I blurt out before I've even thought about it. Curiosity killed the cat.

I can't believe it, but he looks a bit flustered. "Working, actually."

"Working on Christmas?"

"Yes," he says tersely. "What about the day after, is that good for you?"

"Come home with me," I say.

"What?" he asks looking at me as if I'm insane.

I don't know what to say. I don't even know what I'm doing. All I can picture is Fred and George's faces when I bring Draco Malfoy home for Christmas dinner. "Come home with me for Christmas," I repeat, smiling broadly.

Malfoy shakes his head. "No."

"Why not?" I ask feeling, strangely hurt. "After all these years you're still too good for us Weasleys is that it?"

His head snaps up and he looks me in the eye. "No, that is not it."

"What is it then?"

"I don't have time for this. We'll meet the day after, all right? If that picture of your brother on the cover hasn't scared off our readers that is."

"It's going to be fine," I say trying to sound confident. "Trust me."

He looks at me doubtfully as he makes his way to the door.

"And think about coming over on Christmas Day. Mum would love to have you," I lie.

He shakes his head and shuts the door softly behind him.

I smile to myself imagining the faces of my family if I really did bring Malfoy home with me. It would almost make the last three months bearable.

* * * * *

"Ginny?" a familiar voice asks behind me. I'm looking for a last minute Christmas present for my mum. I've been searching for the last two hours with no luck. I turn around and manage a weak smile.

"Hermione, how are you?"

She looks her usual self. Somehow managing to look intelligent and sweet with her dark eyes and wavy brown hair.

"Fine, and you?" she asks, smiling at me. "I haven't talked to you in ages."

"Yes, I know, I've just been so very busy," I say quickly.

"Oh I know what you mean. The hospital has been an absolute nightmare."

"Are you Christmas shopping?" I ask politely.

"Oh no, I did that ages ago. I have something for you, by the way."

"Oh that's so sweet," I say, making a mental note to myself to get something for Hermione.

"Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Are you Christmas shopping?"

"Oh yes," I say feeling very unorganized. Hermione always has everything so together. She probably finished her shopping in September. "Something for mum," I say holding up a few color changing scarves.

"Hmm...maybe a Romanian Cookbook. I saw one a few shops down."

"Hmm, maybe," I say doubtfully. "Well, I really have to be getting home." I grab a scarf and make get in line to pay for my purchase.

"Ginny..." Hermione says with a frown and then hesitates, looking at me for a moment.

"Yes?" I ask giving her what I hope is a casual questioning look.

"I can't help but feel like you've been avoiding me since...well, since that night at my house."

"I've been busy, that's all," I lie.

"Of course," Hermione says smiling a little too widely. "Perhaps we can get together sometime soon. Have a cup of tea, or something."

"Sure," I say handing a scarf to the clerk. "I'd like that."

"Gre--" Hermione starts and then suddenly goes pale. "Ginny, what is that?" she squeaks pointing at the magazine rack a few steps away.

I look up and see Ron smiling at us in his boxers.

I laugh, "I got Ron to pose for our cover."

"Are you insane?" Hermione asks her eyes wide as she grabs the magazine. "Do you know how many people will see this?"

"300,000 to be exact," I say as the clerk hands me my change.

"Ron's going to kill you!"

"Hermione," I say patiently, thoroughly enjoying seeing her flustered, "he's the one that posed for it."

"He did?" she asks, obviously not believing me.

"Yes," I say cheerfully. "Well I must get going. Give me a ring and we'll go have lunch or something."

Hermione nods numbly before returning to staring down at the Witch Weekly in her hands.

One down, 299,999 readers to go.