Seeking Ginny

The door opened wider. There were many emotions racing through Ginny at that point, but none were stronger than her basic senses of sight and sound. Her eyes burned into the door as if she were able to see through and her ears were strained, trying to catch any hint of that voice again. But all she saw was the dark wooden panels of the door and the only voices she could hear were the throaty sounds of French-accented English. Eventually the talking stopped and there was a short silence before the door inched opened even wider and one polished shoe stepped out.

Denial coursed through her.

Her mental protests, however, didn't have much power and he emerged anyway, swinging on a long black cloak so that Ginny couldn't see anything of him. She watched the cloak billow in slow motion and as it settled around his shoulders, her eyes flew to his face.

The breath that had been caught in her throat rushed out in a long sigh when she found herself looking into the face of a wizard with brown eyes and a thick brown mustache.

It wasn't Harry.

But it had been Harry... hadn't it?

Her brow furrowed, Ginny looked at the door, then at the man's retreating back. A few years ago, this episode would have been a common thing--she used to see Harry everywhere she went, hear his voice all over the place even though it had been quite obvious that he was a million floos away where she had left him. But that hadn't happened in a long time, and she stood there for a moment, coming to terms with its return now, years later, on a day when Harry was the very last thing on her mind.

She didn't have to reason it out, but her brain began to put the pieces together, automatically collecting evidence that she was right--if Harry were in Paris, she'd have heard something about it. Her family would have let her know or Brian would have read about it in one of his newspapers and made some comment to her. Over the years he had, much to Ginny's disinterest, kept her up to date on various news events and the subject of Harry had come up before (though Ginny had shown even less of an interest in Harry as she did in the rest of Brian's subjects). The logic of it all, combined with the fact that the wizard who had emerged from the doors was now calling out to someone in his very British voice had her starting to relax.

Pressing a hand to her jittering stomach and taking a moment to gather her wits, Ginny lifted her other hand to look at her watch and saw that there were only a few minutes before the hand struck twelve o'clock. She felt the flutters in her abdomen double, but for a completely different reason. She was going to be late if she didn't hurry. Assuming what she hoped was a professional posture and trying to push thoughts of Harry from her mind, Ginny lifted her chin and pulled one of the heavy doors open--and found herself face to face with him.

As though greeted by a rush of wind, she took a physical step back. Then, suddenly, instantly, her eyes became hungry. He looked brilliant... all broad shoulders, strong, square jaw... hard, angular face... an adult. His frame was still thin but it wasn't that of a lanky teenager... he was lean and so much taller than her, his longish black hair falling into his eyes with a hint of that unkemptness and his eyes...his eyes....

The only clear thought in her brain was that she had gone far too long without his eyes.

"Sorry, er, pardon," he muttered, interrupting her trance.

If Ginny had thought that opening a door in Paris and seeing an adult Harry standing behind it was the shock of her life, she'd been wrong. He continued to stun her by brushing right past and walking down the huge staircase without another glance at her. She twisted her head around to watch him, still clutching the open door and she wondered what the hell to do now. Time had seemed to stop when she'd seen him and now it was moving so quickly--or rather, Harry was moving so quickly. He was walking away from her with the speed of someone who was undoubtedly in a hurry.

Should she say something to him? She knew she should, but something made her want to turn and walk through the doors of the Ministry and be on with her own business, just as he was doing with his. In the end, her mouth made the decision.

"Harry," it called without thought or reason.

He stopped in his tracks. After a moment, he turned, a flash of annoyance crossing his face. Ginny watched with half-shock, half-amusement as his wary brow lifted above the rim of his glasses. It was unimaginable that he didn't recognize her, but seeing him regard her with such removed interest said differently. There was a moment of that veiled look before his eyes slowly widened. He was looking at her hair.

"Ginny?"

She found herself smiling before calling out, "Yes. Hi, Harry."

He stared at her for a moment before he let out an astonished laugh and started to walk towards her.

"Hi. How are you?"

Ginny stepped down a few steps to close the remaining distance and in doing so, caught the angle of the sun. Squinting against it, she smiled up at him, even though he was standing on the stair below her. "I'm fine, thanks. How are you?"

"Okay," he said with a smile of his own--it still held a hint of that boyhood grin. "Are you working at the Ministry now, or...?"

Ginny opened her mouth to speak but found herself a bit confused by that. "No, I'm not working here, I'm here doing an assignment for one of my courses."

"Oh, right, you're still at university," he nodded as if just remembering. "How's that going, then?"

The wind was strong. Ginny tucked a lose strand of hair that kept assaulting her face behind her ears. "It's going well. I'm almost finished, actually, I should be home this summer."

"I knew that," he said, shaking his head at himself. "You're mum told me."

She gave a little laugh. "You're here on business, I take it?"

"Yeah, for a bit. Ministry things..." he said vaguely and Ginny started to nod back in that same monotonous agreement, but then she allowed herself a grin.

"Anything exciting?"

Harry expelled a laughing breath. "Not this time. Actually, it's been rather dull."

"How long will you be here?"

"A few weeks."

Ginny waited for him to continue, then realized that he didn't intend to. "Well, that should give you a chance to see the city," she said quickly.

Harry smiled back and nodded, and just when Ginny starting thinking she would be late for her appointment if she didn't hurry inside, Harry glanced down at his watch and lifted a brow. "I hate to cut this short, but...."

She shook her head. "No, not at all. I've got to be inside, actually."

"Right then, well...I suppose...I suppose I'll see you..." he trailed off, looking uncertain as how to say goodbye.

"Right ..." she said, trailing off as well, trying to think of a way to end this without simply walking away. And because it was the only thing she could think of that wouldn't be completely rude, she went on, "We should get together or something while you're here. To catch up."

Even as she said it, a nervous flutter skidded to a halt in her stomach... along with a keen stab of disappointment. She had to offer, Harry was in Paris and they were friends and the only polite thing to do was to get together. But it meant more pretenses now, probably a few hours of them.

She'd thought she was through with pretenses.

"Yeah...that's cool," he said, nodding and Ginny smiled brightly, hoping it didn't look false. Thinking fast and praying that she wouldn't be late for her appointment, she rummaged through her handbag and pulled out a bit of parchment.

"Here's the address of the café I work in. You can call on me there--I work most evenings and we can have a chat or something."

As she was saying the words, Ginny couldn't help but wonder what on earth would they have to chat about. They'd barely been able to fill the space of a few minutes with small talk.

Harry glanced at the parchment and put it in the inside pocket of his robes. "That sounds great." But from the rather uninterested look on his face--which he wasn't particularly trying to mask--Ginny could tell he was thinking along the same lines as she.

"Well, I suppose I'll be seeing you, then. Bye, Harry." She gave him a little wave as she stepped backwards up a stair.

"Bye, Ginny." He lifted his hand as he walked away and before she knew what she was doing, Ginny turned quickly, heaved open the door, and stepped inside the Ministry of Magic.

~*~

Four Years Earlier

"Class is dismissed. I'll see you all next term... hopefully."

There were sounds of books being gathered, chairs scraping the floor and the hum of chatter rising as everyone hastened to leave the classroom. Not in any particularly hurry herself, Ginny gathered her own things and slid them into the same patched bag she'd used since her third year at Hogwarts. It was a Friday afternoon and to Ginny and the rest of the students in Gobbledygook for Beginners, Professor Flaubert's goodbye was a testament that they had all made it through their very first term at L'Acadèmie d'Aubervive.

Ginny felt a sense of pride--but it was short lived when she remembered that she still had two more to go before finishing an entire year. L'Acadèmie had three terms per year, over five long years, giving a grand total of fifteen terms, fourteen to go. Ginny frowned. When she looked at it that way, it was quite a depressing thought.

Giving the professor a halfhearted smile, Ginny left the room and started down the corridor, remembering suddenly that she'd had a letter from her Mum this morning. She quickened her steps. There hadn't been any time to read it before class and she'd forgotten to bring it along to occupy her fifteen minute break during the day.

It seemed a bit ironic to be in such a hurry to read a letter which would only make her more homesick, but she didn't care. She was often plagued with curiosity of how everyone was getting on at home and if she wasn't there to see it for herself, she wanted to know as much as she could... about her family... and ... and everyone.

God knew that she would rather be there than here.

It was very disconcerting, living in such a beautiful and fascinating place and having the entire thing tainted by the fact that it wasn't home. Ginny didn't delude herself into thinking she would ever truly be at home in Paris; as much as she enjoyed her subjects and got on well with the people she'd met, her loneliness dominated everything...and everywhere she looked, she was reminded of home.

As if on cue, she walked passed the brightly lit Christmas tree in the main foyer of the University and her mind halted painfully on the photograph her Mum had sent her of the family Christmas tree. It certainly wasn't as glamorous as this one, but it had all the little ornaments that her family had used year after year--and the angel on which her Dad had to cast an Illuminating Charm once a day because the magic in it was so old. Everyone was in the picture, standing in front of it, smiling and waving to her. Bill blew her a kiss, her Mum held up the little ornament that read Ginevra's First Christmas in flashing letters, Dad grinned heartily.

She felt a pang somewhere deep when she thought about it... how long it had been since she'd decorated that tree...years since she'd spent Christmas with her family. It was true that she'd usually wanted to stay at Hogwarts, but it just felt wrong not to be there this time.

And why couldn't she? She puffed out a dry laugh and shook her head. Why couldn't she go home for Christmas this year? Well, the answer to that was in the photograph, standing right between Ron and Hermione.

She was better off here.

Without warning, a slice of pain split up her nose and her face was suddenly smashed into a solid wall of sweater and torso. Strong hands gripped her arms to steady her.

"I'm so sorry," she muttered in French, stepping back and pressing a hand to her nose. "I--oh." She stopped apologizing at once. "It's you," she said flatly, in English.

He smirked and let go of her arms. "Having a relaxing stroll with your eyes closed, are you, love?"

Ginny almost scoffed. Did it look like she was having a stroll? She had a bag bursting with books and the ones that didn't fit were piled in her arms.

"I was preoccupied. Sorry," she said matter-of-factly, not sounding sorry at all.

He lifted a brow, his lips curving into a smirk, making Ginny feel like she was the butt of some joke. "Have a lovely weekend, Ginny."

"You do the same, Brian," she said sweetly, her voice dripping with sugar, and sauntered off towards the door.

Prat.

Ginny had thought that yesterday's final lesson of Mermish Caste Systems was last she'd have to endure of Brian McGuire, research partner from hell, but apparently she'd been wrong. She only hoped that he wasn't in any of her lessons next term.

When Ginny stepped outside, her mood lifted automatically at the sparkling snow that seemed to be falling endlessly. She let some flakes land on her tongue. It had snowed a few times before this and Ginny had never seen anything as beautiful as Lacasse with it's fairy lights floating high along the streets, the cottage-like shops emitting colorful smoke from their chimney's and sparkling icicles dripping from the windows. It was truly a sight.

And quite cold. Ginny was in the middle of securing the fastenings of her secondhand cloak, reminding herself to fix the broken hook later, and trying to adjust the pile of books so that she had a better grip on them when she saw something that made her stop everything. The hold on her books failed--they slid through her arms to the snowy ground, but Ginny didn't even notice. She was currently staring, transfixed in a horrid sort of way, at a black haired wizard wearing a long dark cloak and wire-rimmed glasses, buying a magazine from a kiosk.

For a moment, time stood still... then a huge gust of wind assaulted Ginny and the sound of book pages flapping and papers fluttering brought her back to life. Her mind racing, Ginny sank to her knees and hastily pulled her things towards her. She tried to look up several times to make sure he hadn't left, but her hair was blowing into her eyes, making it even more difficult for her shaking hands to gather all of her wet books. At last she stood, clutching the messy pile to her chest and looked back at the magazine trolley once more. He was gone.

Ginny's breath came out in puffs of white smoke and she stood in the middle of the square, staring helplessly around and watching dozens of dark-haired men in black cloaks pass her ... none of them the one she was interested in. A tiny voice in her mind whispered that she was being absurd, but Ginny didn't care at that moment. All she knew was that she'd seen Harry... he was here... and now she'd lost him.

It can't be him, a voice in her head taunted her, but Ginny refused to believe it. She was rooted to this spot--this spot where she was sure that-- no. It was impossible... but what if... what if by some chance....

Her entire mind went numb at the thought.

He couldn't. The only truly wonderful thing about this place was that she was so far away from Harry... she was out of his reach here and he couldn't hurt her here but all of that would change if....

It would ruin everything. But hope still nudged at her.

Thoroughly irritated with herself, Ginny pushed her wet hair back and rearranged her books, as she walked swiftly through a narrow ally, reality began to hit her, cruel and harsh as the biting wind. It wasn't Harry. It never bloody was. How many times was she going to do this to herself. How many times was she going to allow him to intrude on her life, even when he wasn't even in the same bloody country--

Her thought-trail halted as a black cloak whizzed past her. Panic rose again; she cast an irrational, anxious glance over her shoulder and in doing so, missed a patch of ice. Her foot slid forward, the heel of her boot turning on its edge and she felt a searing pain shoot as her ankle twisted.

"Damn!" The haphazard pile in her arms slipped a notch and she had to struggle to get hold of everything as she tried not to lose her balance. Her eyes were already watering because of the cold and beyond that, she felt tears of frustration prickling at the corners.

When she had finally gained her balance and managed the hold on her books, Ginny burrowed into her cloak and broke into a run towards her building, ignoring her throbbing ankle. She finally made it inside and after climbing many flights of stairs, closed herself up in her tiny room. It was smaller than her bedroom at the Burrow and Ginny hated everything about it from the stale colors to the two feet of space between her desk and lumpy mattress. After letting her books tumble over the small surface of her desk, she sank onto her bed and tried with all her might to block the tears.

She failed.

Everything she was feeling seemed to pour out of her... the pent up homesickness... the resentment that she couldn't be home for Christmas... Harry...the feelings for him that just wouldn't go away... and most of all, the absolute and utter shame she felt in herself....

She wanted to go home. She didn't belong here--she would never belong here. She felt like this place was imaginary and it would be a lifetime before she could stop pretending to be someone that she wasn't and just go home.

After what seemed like hours, Ginny finally exhausted her grief. She sat on the edge of her bed, feeling emotionally drained and stared blankly at the plain wall of her dormitory.

It was going to be okay, she told herself as she breathed in a slow, deep breath and lay back against her pillow, dragging her hands down her tear-stained face. She needed to stop being so hard on herself and just admit that this wasn't going to be as simple as she'd thought. Nothing regarding Harry had ever been easy and getting over him was no exception... neither was missing him.

And that was what hurt most of all, she admitted, her wet eyes traveling over a long, twisted crack in the ceiling. For every stab of fear she felt when she "saw" him, there was a glimmer of hope that he might actually be here. For her. It was stupid, but it was true and Ginny found that she couldn't be angry at herself because of it. Because she was strong, so much stronger than her feelings for him. It would just take time. Letting her eyes fall close, Ginny held onto that thought.

A sudden knock on the door caused her to jump... and then go very still. She never had unexpected visitors. Sitting up slightly, staring at the back of the door with her heart pounding. It all came back, flooding through her like a tidal wave. The blood drained from her face and her mouth went completely dry as she called,

"Who is it?"

Pause. "It's Brian McGuire."

Ginny blinked. Relief came over her with such intensity that she actually managed a weak smile. No Harry... she was okay. She dragged herself off the bed and stepped across the tiny room to open the door.

"You dropped this," Brian said irritably in greeting, holding up a book that looked very wet and a little muddy. Ginny noticed Brian wasn't too dry himself.

"Oh," she took the book and flipped open the cover; sure enough her name and dormitory were written in her handwriting.

"Thanks," she said and offered him a surprised smile. The only time Brian had ever acted kind towards her had been when they had first met - he'd used a rather clever pick-up line that even she'd had a difficult time seeing through. But bringing her a book in the middle of a snow storm was a bit more than a charming come-on. "Did you come all the way over here just to bring this to me?"

He lifted a brow. "Don't flatter yourself, love. A friend of mine lives in this building."

Ginny almost rolled her eyes, but she reminded herself that he had been polite enough to drop it off in the first place. "Ah, well. Don't let me keep you. Thanks, again."

"Actually," he said, stopping her from closing the door with his foot. "Were you planning on eating alone tonight?"

After staring down at his foot in confusion, Ginny lifted her eyes, blinking. "Why?" she asked before she could think of anything else to say, her face incredulous. Any bloke asking a girl that question usually meant one thing--but Brian McGuire, the bloke she had called an arrogant woman-hater to his face, asking this was a bit startling.

A smirk pulled at Brian's mouth. "Well, she canceled on me--my friend. And now..." He lifted his hand an let it fall to his side in defeat, "I've nobody to have dinner with."

Ginny stared at him and all of a sudden, it hit her.

He was flirting.

Quite rapidly, as though a part of her that had been lying dormant for years had woken up in an instant, Ginny felt herself brighten. She hadn't flirted in ages. She hadn't wanted to flirt with anyone... except... one particular someone. But the urge to flirt back was there, and it felt so healthy and so natural that she had a momentary urge to throw her arms around Brian McGuire.

She refrained from flinging herself at him, however, and smiled broadly, summoning a flirtatious glint of her own into her eyes. Her voice warm with humor, she asked, "Are you asking me out, Brian? Because you ought to know I think you're a prat."

He waited a beat. "That a yes or a no?"

She giggled and the mindlessness of it felt good. Really good. Rolling her eyes, she turned away to walk back into her room, ignoring him for a moment as she skirted around the bed so that a puzzled expression crossed his face.

"I am hungry," she stated, reaching for her handbag and sitting down to pull on her boots, "so I suppose it's a yes."

She watched a brow arch over one eye. He really was very handsome. "Wow... don't flatter me, or anything."

"Oh, don't worry. I won't."

Brian grinned then--a wide, dimpled grin and Ginny couldn't help but blush.

"We'll see about that," he said knowingly, his light blue eyes sparkling - now with a challenge.

Ginny laughed. He was confident, wasn't he. She instantly knew that if her heart hadn't been occupied elsewhere, Brian's eyes might have gotten her into trouble. But there was no danger of that. And even if there was...that would be a much more enjoyable game than the ones she played with a non-existent Harry nowadays.

"Let's go, already."

~*~

"OY! Are you home?"

Brian's voice called through the flat, reaching Ginny in her bedroom and she sat back at her desk, rubbing at her eyes. She'd been reading from her Troll textbook since arriving home from the Ministry nearly two hours ago. Her brain felt wrung out.

"I'm in here!" she called, accidentally speaking Troll. She laughed at herself.

Brian rapped on the door before poking his head inside. "Are we speaking Troll at home now?"

Giggling wearily, Ginny shook her head. "I've lost my mind, sorry."

"Well? Did it go all right? What happened?"

Ginny looked up at Brian's curious face and felt disappointment creep up on her. "No... it didn't. I missed the appointment."

He stared. "What?"

"I missed it. I was late and the secretary had already left for the day."

Brian mouthed soundlessly for a few seconds before pushing the door open wider and stepping inside. "How late could you have possibly been?"

Ginny lifted her free hand in a helpless gesture and let it fall to her lap. "It was just a few minutes but the Ministry's receptionist said that I would have to rearrange. I suppose I just...didn't allow enough time," she said, feeling like an arse both for lying to Brian and for the real reason she'd missed the appointment.

To his credit, Brian didn't say 'I told you so', but heaved a sigh and leaned his arm against the doorframe, looking serious. "Well... now what?"

Ginny reached across the heap of homework and lifted a letter that she'd written. "I wrote this to her secretary, basically pleading to arrange the interview with her." She gave a dry laugh. "If she'll even see me now that I've missed one appointment."

"She'll see you," Brian said arrogantly, as if he'd make sure of it. "Will you have enough time, though? To interview her and then write out the essay? When is it due?"

"It's due in a few weeks. I'll just have to try to get it all finished in time. And if I don't ... I s'pose I'll have to repeat the course--"

"You're not going to repeat the course. We'll think of something."

The total confidence in his statement forced her to smile. "Yeah... we will." Then she tossed her quill down, suddenly restless. "D'you want to go out? I've been inside all afternoon."

After changing their clothes, Ginny and Brian went to a pub that they had been meaning to try out, and wound up running into some friends who were on their way to an outdoor concert in Muggle Paris. Using magic, the group sneaked their way into the concert and sat on a huge blanket, listening to music until the early hours of morning.

It was around two when Ginny finally crawled into bed, thoughts of missed appointments and leftover homework far from her mind, and when she woke up the next morning, it was to The Weird Sisters' "Early Morning Love Spell" blaring in her eardrums. Trying to groan louder than the music in the hopes that the moron would hear her and turn it down, she covered her ears with her hands, then gave up and yanked the pillow from beneath her head and pressed it over her face. To anyone observing, although she couldn't imagine why anyone would ever want to observe her in the morning, it might look like she was trying to suffocate herself.

"A DASH OF PEPPER AND SOME LOVE... LOVE... LOOOOOOOOVE...." came Brian's tone-deaf voice over the band's lead singer.

The idea of suffocating herself definitely had merit.

She let out a pathetic, muffled moan before she whipped the pillow from her face and threw it across the room, aiming for the door and missing by a mile. Her desk lamp crashed to the floor and her wand, which was sitting on top of the lamp, let out a series of bangs as it, too, went flying. The music stopped but Ginny barely had time to be relieved before there was a pounding noise that shook the flat.

"GIN!? ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?" came Brian's loud, frantic voice from behind the door as he continued to bang on it with his fist.

"Fine!" she called out croakily, although he obviously couldn't hear her over the racket he was making, so she sprinted from the bed and yanked open the door. "Fine! I'm all right, just please stop making so much noise."

Brian shook his head at her; he was already fully dressed, his hair styled and spiky, and from the glimpse she got of the front room, Ginny could see that he was in the middle of his favorite pastime (besides women, of course)--reading newspapers.

"How can you sleep so late? The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, it's a gorgeous morning!"

She was about to respond shortly, but she found herself heaving a sigh, watching him settle down on the sofa. "I don't know. I wish I was a morning person."

"Well, you could be," he said, lifting the parchment. "It's easy, you'll just have to start setting your Awaking Charm a bit earlier. You'll get used to it." Then he grinned. "Imagine the fun we can have together. You and I, taking the mornings by storm."

Ginny stared at him for a bit, before shaking her head with laughter. Sometimes he made no sense. "Sometimes you make no sense," she told him and he shrugged.

"Take a shower, it'll wake you up a bit."

"I suppose I will. After some coffee."

He rolled his eyes at this.

The shower did wonders. When she stepped out of the bathroom, dressed and refreshed, Ginny was suddenly glad to be awake so early. Brian had taken advantage of the sunny day and opened all the windows in the flat and Ginny did the same in her bedroom. Humming along to the music, pushing the little scary thoughts of Madame Millicent from her mind, she tidied up her room, then pulled out her books. For the rest of the morning and early afternoon Ginny became lost in a world of Mermish verbs, Gobbledygook Dialects and Troll habits.

Nearly five hours later, in addition to finishing the work for this week's lessons, Ginny had started a composition that was due in two weeks, written out an entire study guide for her Elvish exam next month, and read three chapters in her Gobbledygook text book--one of which was the following week's assignment. Feeling quite proud and composing a letter in her head to Hermione in which she bragged about her fabulous study habits, Ginny dressed for work.

The walk to Le Papillon from the flat was a bit lengthy but in the current weather, Ginny loved it. The café itself was a quaint little place, very popular with the students of the university and appealing for tourists. It was the epitome of a Parisian café, with its dark, wooden-paneled walls, white lace tapestries, little round tables surrounded by brightly upholstered chairs. At the front was a long bar that stretched along the length of an entire wall, with dozens of high seats and behind it, were two swinging doors, leading to the kitchen and bad-tempered chef, Pierre.

Ginny walked up the cobblestone pathway, passing the small wrought iron tables and chairs on the patio before slipping through the doors. It was quiet inside, with a few people eating a late lunch or nursing a drink at the bar. Ginny headed behind the bar immediately, smiling at the bartender, Christian, as she switched her cloak for the red apron on one of the hooks in the corner. As she looked around, Ginny noted that the other waitress Aurelie, was nowhere to be seen. She was probably late, Ginny smirked, wondering what her excuse would be this time. Aurelie usually had a different reason for being late, most of which were on the melodramatic side, but always amusing.

"Aurelie's working tonight?" Ginny asked Christian in French. Nobody spoke English in the café.

Christian stood at the bar, cleaning goblet after goblet and stacking them on the low shelves below the bar. "Late," was his response and Ginny smiled knowingly.

She wanting a project so that she didn't have to think about her problems with Madame Millicent so she floated the specials board down and propped herself at the bar, using her wand to write the specials out in carefully lavish cursive, adding little doodles to the side of the board and listening to the hum of Christian's voice muttering Scouring Charms as he washed goblets and cups. There were a few customers who sat down and required her help, but nothing that she and Christian couldn't handle. If it wasn't for the flutter of nervousness that sneaked into her stomach every time she thought of yesterday's misfortune at the Ministry, Ginny would have found the afternoon quite relaxing.

"Right, what's wrong?" asked Christian rather suddenly, and Ginny looked up to see that he was watching her with his eyes narrowed. "Why are you not talking my ear off today? The street seller you fancy isn't coming round?"

Ginny had to grin. "I don't fancy him. No, it's ... look, I don't want to talk about it, because if I do, I'll go mad."

Christian lifted a shoulder. "All right."

"It's Madame Millicent!" she exclaimed, slamming her wand down on the board and causing the spaghetti dish she'd been drawing to unravel across the board. As the dire situation she was in came pouring out of her, Christian leaned on the bar and listened patiently as though Ginny was a pissed customer talking about her woes.

"And now I don't know what to do!" she exclaimed. "Should I persist in trying to get an appointment? Or should I just ... make the entire interview up?"

"You can't make it up," he said immediately and Ginny blew out a breath which sent the strands of hair that fell over her forehead to fly up.

"I know," she said stubbornly. She'd been hoping that Christian wouldn't disagree with that one.

"Have you spoken to your professor about it? Perhaps there's something he can do."

"No, I haven't," Ginny said thoughtfully, twirling her wand over the board, fixing the spaghetti into an animated flowery design which looped and twisted around the board. "But I suppose I should, shouldn't I? I mean I was really only a few minutes late."

Christian nodded. "You're professor might be able to help you out--that's what he's there for."

Ginny wondered why she hadn't thought about this in the first place; it was the sensible thing to do. But then, Christian usually pointed out the sensible thing to do. He was a bit older than Ginny, in his late twenties, very tall, very dark and very good-looking. She often compared his looks to Brian--even though they didn't look anything alike, they were both incredibly handsome. But that was perhaps the only similarity they shared; Christian and Brian were like night and day.

Just as Ginny was experimenting with more charms on the special's board, two regular customers, Magdalene and Marguerite Maquine, came into the café then. As usual, they ordered Christian's Eel's Eye Potion, a rather sour drink Ginny didn't care for. As Christian brewed the drinks, the exuberant sisters sat down at the bar and began complaining about their neighbor's dogs. It was all they ever talked about and since Ginny found them rather amusing, she continued on with the board, listening to their conversation. She was just smirking at the mental image of Magda Maquine chasing a pink poodle down the street on her broomstick, when the door opened and another regular, a small, elderly wizard hobbled inside on his rickety walking stick. Monsieur Lucien: a very opinionated man who never drank or ate much, but came in for the company and conversation. The man told the exact same stories, had the exact same complaints, and talked about the exact same things every time he called. The only person in the café who really didn't mind talking to him day after day was Christian.

So Ginny sat at the bar, sipping her favorite chocolate with cinnamon, and listening to the Maquine sister's comical stories and Christian and Monsieur Lucien's usual conversation about the weather, the outrageous prices at the market across the street, and a select few politics such as the brash decisions of the Minister of Magic and the ever-present inconvenience of the Apparition laws.

On that particular subject, Ginny couldn't help but agree as the Apparition laws in France were immeasurably inconvenient. Apparently, illegal Apparating had been a huge problem in France and in the years before Ginny had even come to Paris, things were said to have been quite out of hand. It wasn't until three nine year old triplets had Splintched themselves trying to Apparate upon their parents' instructions did the Minister of Magic set up a very strict decree, prohibiting Apparition between short distances within the confines of the country. As a result, the people of France either walked or flew to get where they needed to go if their destination was below the limits of the law or Apparated illegally and paid a hefty fine.

"They're supposed to be concentrating on rebuilding the Floo network," Christian was saying in an attempt to appease old Monsieur Lucien. "That should help matters, at least."

"It's a waste of time, that!" Monsieur Lucien said grumpily. "They've been trying to rebuild the Floo since the majority of it was destroyed in the war--how many years ago? Besides, the Floo network is nothing but an unorganized calamity--people getting lost, nobody opening the grates..."

"In England, it isn't," Ginny offered, looking up from the board. "In England, the Floo network is very organized. It's the main way for underage wizards to travel, really."

"That's England," said Monsieur Lucien grumpily. "The French Ministry was never up to England's par. Ireland is even worse than France, Merlin save them."

"Is it really organized in Britain?" Christian asked Ginny. "It was always such a risk to travel by Floo--will the grate be open, that sort of thing."

"Well, there's always a risk, but it's more organized than how you make it sound," Ginny explained. "Apparating is the higher traveling risk in England."

"I've been Apparating since I was a boy." Monsieur Lucien exclaimed. "There's no risk."

Ginny was about to argue that having that particular mind-set was part of the reason for the Apparition law in the first place, and that there was always the danger of getting Splintched, but instead, she managed a fixed smile and went back to her board. Christian sent her a wink before he turned back to Monsieur Lucien.

A short while later, after Ginny had floated the specials board up to its proper place, the bells over the doors jingled and a huge crowd of people piled inside. She began writing down orders (her Recording Quill had died a painful death during her long homework run this afternoon), and deftly handling the early dinner rush, while Christian fixed all the drinks. During the mayhem, while she was taking down complicated instructions from a middle-aged witch on how to have the chef prepare her soufflé without certain key ingredients, Ginny saw a flash of blonde hair and brightly colored robes dashing passed. Aurelie had arrived at last and she was laden down with huge bags, filled to the brim with what looked like clothes. Ginny didn't have time to stop and wonder what that was all about.

At once, Aurelie began helping with the tables and for the next few hours, Ginny got caught up in work: Banishing food orders to Pierre in the kitchen, giving Christian the drink requests and floating the dinners out to the proper tables. As soon as everyone was happily eating and drinking and all orders had been Banished in, Ginny went back to the bar.

"What's that you're brewing now?" she asked as Christian sprinkled some colorful crystals into the table-top cauldron he used to mix all of his drinks. He bent down and rummaged through a cabinet beneath the bar and emerged, holding up something that had Ginny's eyes lighting up.

"Coconut Concoction?" she said happily.

"Yes," he started to cut the coconut with his wand.

Ginny loved it when he made this drink; the entire café would smell like the tropics for the next hour. "Can you pour me a goblet before you add the Firewhisky?" Ginny asked him, just as he unscrewed the cap of Odgen's.

"I suppose I can," he said, and floated a goblet down from the shelf.

"Mmmm...." Ginny took a sip and relished the drink. "What am I going to do when I'm back in England with no Coconut Concoction?"

"You'll have to Apparate back here."

"Don't think I won't do it either," she said, sucking on a large piece of coconut before taking yet another sip. "Two days of Apparition hell is worth it for this."

"And you've never had it with all the proper ingredients," Christian said, holding up the bottle of Odgen's New Tropically Enhanced Firewhisky before pouring a large amount into the little cauldron he was using.

Ginny rarely drank anything alcoholic.

Just then the kitchen doors flung open and a tall waitress with a straight sheet of blonde hair came bustling out of the kitchen looking harassed. "What's the matter with Pierre? I asked him if we could have chicken for dinner and he looked ready to cut my head off with his cleaver."

"He's not in a very... complacent mood today," Christian said. "Something about the wine shipments being late... I really didn't ask too many questions."

"Well," Aurelie sighed, flipping her long hair behind her shoulders. "I'm sorry I was late, it's a problem I have."

Ginny laughed at her honesty. "Well, admitting that you have a problem is the first step."

"And what's the second?" Aurelie laughed.

"Erm...stop it."

They laughed. "It's not as simple as all that," Aurelie sighed, grinning. "I try to leave on time, honestly I do. But things just happen."

"What sort of things?" Christian asked.

"Well... okay, for instance, today, I was on my way out of the door when I remembered I hadn't fed my fish yet. So it took me twenty minutes to find the fish food because I just haven't the time to clean my flat."

"I know how that goes," Ginny said. "My flat is quite horrendous."

"Well, you have a husband, what do you expect?"

Ginny burst into laughter. "That's what I feel like, honestly! No, rather, I have a child. A very big grown-up child," she said, giggling.

Aurelie lifted a brow. "Big, you say--"

"Do not go any further," Ginny warned her as Aurelie smiled slyly. Aurelie and Brian shared a... certain chemistry.

A crowd of about twenty university students, which Ginny recognized as members of the Student Ministry at L'Acadèmie, came in a while later and Ginny had to magically enlarge several of the tables and push them together to accommodate such a group. Since she was well acquainted with some of them, they insisted on informing her of all the political gossip that was going around the university before she was able to put their order through.

The dinner rush began after a while, and Ginny's Coconut Concoction sat untouched for hours as she ran back and forth from the bar to the floor. It was several hours later when all there was left were a few lone bar customers and lingering diners, who would probably sit at their tables and sip their coffee until the place closed for the night. Ginny cleared her last table, listening with half an ear to a witch at the bar, telling Aurelie a complicated story of how she had met her husband.

"That is so romantic," Aurelie was sighing dreamily. "I mean, that's just... just fate, you know? Do you believe in fate, Gin?"

"You mean like destiny? Yeah..." she trailed off as she swung behind the bar, sending her tray of dirty dishes into the kitchen and hearing them plop gently into the soapy water of the sink. "I suppose I do. Do you?"

"Of course. I believe that there is one person out there for each of us. For instance, my person, is very, very tall. He has to be very tall to be taller than me. And he has dreamy eyes and he's not just handsome in a conventional way and he positively exudes charm--"

As if on cue, the bells on top the doors jingled.

"And there he is!" Aurelie said happily, pressing a kiss to her palm and tossing it at Brian.

He pretended to catch the kiss in midair and sauntered over. He often came in at night when Ginny was due to leave before everyone else so that he could walk her home. Ginny looked at her watch and saw that it was indeed the end of her shift and she went to the hook in the corner to hang up her apron.

"Ready, Bri?" she asked him, wrapping herself in her light cloak.

But Brian had planted his hands on the bar on either side of Aurelie and the two were flirting unabashedly. "Name the time..." Brian was saying suggestively in his fluent French to Aurelie, who grinned back. "I'll take care of the place."

"If that's the line you use, then stop it," Ginny said to him. "I'm getting a bit tired of waking up to find a different witch in my flat every morning."

Aurelie pretended to look outraged. "I'm hurt... hurt, Brian McGuire."

"You're the only one, love, I swear it."

"If you two are quite finished, I'd like to go now?"

"I don't understand why you never let me play with your friends when I come in here," Brian said, straightening. "And every morning? Come on, love, that's an exaggeration."

"All right--every other morning, then."

"You witches will never understand us, am I wrong?" he asked, turning Christian.

"Sorry, I can't talk about that," Christian grinned. "I have to work with them tomorrow."

Ginny finally managed to drag Brian from the café and the two of them stepped out into the cool Spring night. The thought of sitting at her desk with the window open in her bedroom and making a bigger dent in her homework was so appealing, she didn't realize that she was practically racing down the footpath.

"Whoa... why are you walking so fast?" Brian quickened his step to keep up with her. "I was going to suggest that we stop at the Pub for something to eat. I haven't had any dinner."

After a moment's hesitation, Ginny agreed. "All right, but I don't want to stay out too long. I'd love to get some more homework finished tonight--I was on a roll earlier."

The Pub was a little restaurant that reminded both Ginny and Brian of the Leaky Cauldron. They often went there to wax nostalgic about England and because it was far enough from the flat to allow them to Apparate. It was quite a different place in comparison to Le Papillon--less modern, in the style of a medieval pub with dim chandeliers floating low under the high ceiling and round cups of bluebell fire burning on each wooden table. They slid into a booth and placed their orders at once, not even bothering to look at the menus. After the waitress left, Ginny leaned back and enjoyed being off her feet at last.

"I have some great news for you," Brian said, winking at the waitress as she set down their drinks.

"Hmm?"

"I've found out where you can "accidentally" run into Madame Hag."

Ginny sputtered with laughter as she sipped her drink. "Madame Hag?" she grinned. "Anyway, where? What did you find out?"

"There's this charity thing at the Ministry next week. And she's a speaker."

Ginny looked intrigued. "Really?"

"Yes. And... wait for it..."

She rolled her eyes.

"I can get you a ticket."

Her mouth dropped open. "How?"

Brian waved his hand. "I've got my connections. You won't be able to attend the actual dinner part where the speeches are taking place, but there's a reception afterwards. Some bloke in my Mermish lesson said he knows the guard and can get a ticket."

"And when is the party?"

"Next Friday. You'll have to look really professional. Dress robes, that sort of thing."

Ginny nodded. "I think I can manage that. If I can't find anything suitable, I'll just borrow from Aurelie. Wow... this is great. So, when can you get the ticket?"

"He said that he'll bring it to class next week."

"I'll be a nervous wreck until then," she declared.

Brian grinned. "Oh, and I forgot--you've had a letter this afternoon. I think from your mum."

Ginny groaned and buried her face her in her hands. "She's probably angry with me. I haven't answered her last one yet."

"Well, it's not a Howler."

"The next one will be," Ginny said on a laugh. "If I know my mother at all." Then she sighed. Like nothing else, the ache for her mother came from nowhere at times, but it was always so strong.

"You'll get to see her very shortly. It's back to England for good...if stress doesn't kill us first."

Ginny forced a laugh, but the truth of Brian's statement left a nervous feeling settling inside her. The thought of leaving Paris for good was quite frightening. However, Ginny remembered something that prevented her from changing the subject.

"We've got to make an appointment with the Magical Moving Troop," she said to Brian, pointing her finger at him. "To arrange everything."

Brian nodded. "I still think we can just shrink all of our things and put them into a suitcase."

"That's the most illegal thing you've ever suggested. We'll need to book them soon. Dad wrote me in his last letter that England's Troop gets booked up rather quickly--sometimes you need to make an appointment months in advance, so I can only imagine how bad France's is. It's probably twice the wait."

Brian nodded wearily. "I don't even want to think about moving until after we've passed all our courses."

Ginny gave a laugh. "Who are you kidding? You'll pass with top marks. It's me that we need to worry about."

"Worse case scenario--you'll have the flat to yourself next term while you retake Educating Trolls," Brian grinned. "And I'll be back in London, making tons of gold translating for the Ministry."

"Don't joke about it. It's very close to the truth now, what with everything riding on this interview."

"You'll be fine."

Ginny sighed. "I still don't have any idea about my future. In a way, I sort of wish I could stay here. I'm going to miss everyone at the café...."

Brian slapped his palms on the table and leaned towards her with a deadly look in his eyes. "You have spent five years of your life studying Linguistics--you are not going to stay here and be a waitress for a living."

"It's not a bad living... I'm kidding!" she exclaimed at the murderous look on his face. "Do you think I'm serious?"

"I'm not sure about that. You have far too much fun at work."

"Oh, I do not," she said, thinking that she really did. "You know what I wish? I wish I could move Le Papillon into Hogsmeade. Then I would have all of my friends and my family in the same country."

"I'll be sure to ask the Moving Troop the cost for that," Brian said.

"Very funny."

They both looked up as the food arrived and Ginny happily tucked in. She realized she hadn't eaten all day, owing to Pierre's tantrum over fixing dinner and her own lack of cooking skills. Her Mum would be horrified, Ginny thought to herself, grabbing a second piece of bread, to learn that after spending five years in France, her only daughter never learned the French cuisine.

"Tomorrow's Wednesday--what's on the agenda?" Brian asked, taking a sip from his iron goblet.

Wednesday... Ginny sighed with relief at the very thought of Wednesday. She had always made sure to arrange her course and work times so that she could have one day completely free and this term, Wednesday was it. Ginny realized that because of her successful homework run this afternoon, she had virtually the entire day to do as she pleased tomorrow.

"I plan to do absolutely nothing tomorrow," she declared, waving her fork. "Honestly, I think I'll go to my bridge and write letters to everyone... and then I'll do a little window shopping...and then I'll buy some fresh flowers for the flat--"

"And flirt with the trolley bloke--"

"Perhaps... and then... I'll go to sleep... really, really early... at nine o'clock," she said dreamily.

"Now you've lost control."

"Shut up."

They finished their meal and after a fight about who was going to pay, Brian lost and stood up to pay the bill. Ginny was alone with her thoughts for a while before she looked up to see what was keeping him.

Of course, she muttered to herself, watching as he flirted openly with the waitress. Ginny lifted an amused brow when he glanced back at her and, muttering something to the witch who was eyeing Ginny suspiciously, Brian hurried over.

"Listen, love, I've just made a date."

Ginny shook her head on a laugh. "Why am I not surprised?"

Brian grinned and winked at her. "Don't wait up. And remember to check the locks before you go to bed," he added after he'd started to walk away.

Ginny waved to let him know that she would be fine. Then she grabbed her cloak from the booth, pulled her wand from the inside pocket and Disapparated home.