Normality

"So run me through it again?"

"I'm expected to play 'secretary' to my family's arch-enemy."

"Ahhh.. um, it could be, uh, worse?"

Ginny sighed miserably. Clarissa had been sitting on her bed, feeding her cake and tea, for the last 20 minutes, since she had come back from the office, trying to deal with the new spanner in the works, represented by her new boss.

It was now official. Malfoy had signed the contract and Ginny had witnessed it and it made her sick.

Sick that someone like Malfoy could waltz into anywhere he dammed well please and buy it out with a snap of his fingers. Sick that he never had to work...never had to suffer. It was especially sick that he could take a man's life work off him, not to mention that now she was the ever so devoted secretary to the bloody git!

Ginny growled, earning herself a concerned look from Clarissa. She was losing her grip, and she didn't like it. Not one bit.

It had all started that very morning, the day after Malfoy had first appeared into her office. It was a dreary, mellow sort of Thursday. The quiet before the storm.

***Thursday- i.e., the day AFTER Malfoy had viewed his investment.***

"Sally?"

"Morning, Ginny"

"Can you get me the files for Miss Avery? Soon?"

"Sure Ginny- I'll owl them to you before lunch."

Ginny acknowledged this, with a curt nod. It was perhaps a little harsher than she usually spoke to the interns- but then again, she had a reason to be a little short.

After Malfoy had left the day before, Franklin had skipped into her office, ignoring her dull, irritated mood and offered to take her out to celebrate the following evening, with some friends. She had inquired why they were to celebrate, but he had obviously avoided answering the question, saying mysteriously, "You'll find out tomorrow."

Tomorrow had now come- and Ginny was dreading to know the good (or bad, considering your opinion) news.

She had thrown herself into her work, trying as hard as she could to drown out the butterflies in her stomach.

Why couldn't she get Draco out of her head?

He was a complete asshole. Smart mouthed, evil and devastatingly handsome.

Wait...hold on a tic. Did I just call Draco Malfoy handsome?"

"Eugh. He's most definitely not!" muttered Ginny to herself under her breath. "He's vile... awful, the very bane of my existence!"

And yet, so terribly good looking.

"He is NOT!"

To late, Ginny realized she had been having a conversation with herself- and to make matters worse, somebody else had discovered it seconds before!

"First sign of craziness you know- talking to yourself is never a good thing."

Ginny's head snapped immediately up. Her heart sunk dramatically when she saw who was standing at her door, leaning casually against the frame.

"What exactly can I help you with, Malfoy?"

"Tsk, tsk...ignoring the authority there, Ginny. Forgotten who's in charge already? Or are you just that slow?"

"I'm dreadfully sorry, Mr. Malfoy, I was just curious to why exactly you are standing in my doorway."

She said this slowly and clearly, just so as he had no choice but to hear the obvious dislike and sarcasm, she dished out, while reclining in her chair- an action she hoped showed her complete lack of respect for him.

"Oh, I'm sorry, please excuse me. I had no idea I was blocking your little doorway. Darling office you have here by the way," Draco swaggered in through the entrance room and seated himself casually on the edge of her beloved desk. "Tell me, can you manage to squeeze three people in it? Actually, never mind, it's just lovely and cozy with just the two of us."

Ginny wondered if it was possible to hate anyone as much as she despised Malfoy. She had only spoken to him for about 10 seconds, in the last eight or so years, and already he was infuriating her beyond all belief.

Especially now that Franklin wasn't in the room to supervise.

Ginny scooted backwards in her chair, anxious to get as far away from Malfoy as possible. Unfortunately, her composure receded hugely when her chair tipped backwards and she had to scrabble like mad to regain her balance.

Smirking, Draco leaned forward, close to her face. "Scared are we?"

Ginny growled softly under her breath. He was so damned infuriating that she could feel the hate rising through her body, starting with sickly warmth in the bottom of her stomach. But there was something else...an unwanted tingle starting deep inside of her. As much as Ginny hated to admit it, it felt like desire.

Furious with her body for betraying her in such a way, Ginny stood up with a bang, as the chair went flying into the wall. Draco looked on in amusement- an action, which only further angered her.

"Why. The. Fuck. Are. You. In. My. Office." Ginny practically spat out each word, as she glared viciously at Malfoy.

"Well it's like this," he said amiably. "Now that you and me are going to be, well, let's just say close-"

"Don't even think that I would ever be close to you."

Draco held out his left hand and grasped it to his chest. "Why, Ginny, your words are putting a knife through my heart."

"Don't flatter yourself," Ginny muttered, holding out her trembling hand and pretending to inspect her nails. "You haven't got a heart."

"Now, now Ginny," he said low and dangerously, for the first time getting mad. "Lets not say things we'll regret."

"Trust me. I have no intention of regretting any single thing I say whilst in your company. In fact, the only thing that deserves the slightest regret is the fact that I was perfectly civil when you entered my office. I should've known you were as much the same Draco as you always were."

"And what would you rather me be? A saint? A god damned boring saint, just like your perfect Potter?"

Ginny stopped, the mention of her ex-crush's name, a point bringing her back to reality, away from the blinding rage that had enabled her to only see red.

"You could never be Harry," she replied softly.

"And thank God for that."

They stared at each other, long and hard. Grey on brown. Neither wanted to back down, break the gaze. Admit defeat.

Finally Draco tore his eyes away, but Ginny continued to stare.

"Anyway," he said, avoiding her steely gaze, "I just came to say that I think we should at least attempt to get on professionally."

"That's no problem," Ginny answered neutrally, shuffling the paper on her desk. Now the conversation had switched to business, her anger had stopped, leaving behind an empty shell, ready for anything. "When it has to do with business, I have no issues."

"As I noticed, "Draco responded wryly, before standing up slowly. "I guess I can trust you to keep a respectable face to me, disregarding our rocky past."

"You can't trust me to do anything Draco," she replied, looking at the hand he extended for her to shake with emotionless eyes. "All I ask is that you leave me to do my job. All I want is to be normal."

Draco snatched his hand back in disgust. Obviously her refusal to shake his hand had rattled him.

"That was the only time I will ever offer my hand to you. You are filth in my eyes and Weasley, don't expect to tell Franklin your all so valuable opinions of me. I am his only option. Lose me, and sweetie, you've just lost your job."

The hate that had slumbered momentarily in Ginny was back with a blinding flash, ignited by Draco as he stalked to the door, threw it open and stormed out.

Later, Ginny ran into him having coffee with her best friend! Linda looked perfectly cozy as he leaned over her to reach the sugar.

How Ginny hated him.

* * * * *

As much as he was hesitant to admit it, Draco's little 'interview' with Ginny, had seriously unruffled him.

Sure, it had all been fun and games- until someone made it personal.

Draco had made it a personal point never to forgive someone who refused his hand in anything- especially if it was hard for him to offer it in the first place. The comment Ginny had, all so casually, let fly about his heart had cut him emotionally as well. Not that he couldn't take girls yelling at him. No; Draco got that all the time. But the words she had used, an exact replica of someone very similar in fiery nature.

But Draco wouldn't think of her.

Much easier to focus on the smiling young girl who was at the moment pouring him more coffee. Especially because she was so pretty....ahem, well to be more company correct, Draco really thought he would have to revert back to the title of 'nice'.

And that's what Linda appeared to be. Nice, sensitive and exactly the sort of girl that managed to completely escape Draco's attention. Especially after that scorching hot interview session that he was still reeling from.

Nothing turned Draco on more than a fiery redhead.

Said redhead was at this moment standing in the doorway glaring ferociously at him. Draco mused on how this managed to get him so worked 'up'. Deciding to play it smooth, he reached over Linda whispering about how the temperature seemed to have risen dramatically.

Well- it's not really a lie. Draco smirked as he watched Ginny spin around and leave the room in a huff. Good thing my little Weasel still gets as worked up by me as she used to.

He then proceeded to indulge in a little fantasy of Ginny....a very mad Ginny, and had to make a dash to the bathroom, before anyone else could notice his sudden, uh, change in appearance.

---15 minutes later.---

After his momentary pit stop to the bathroom, Draco headed north to his makeshift office.

Franklin had sure pulled out the stops for something so temporary. The office was everything Draco desired. Rich, immaculately furnished and filled with the luxurious scent of Lavenders. There was a massive polished wood desk, smack bang in the middle of the room, covered with all sorts of office goodies. Draco even detected a sheet of parchment with every single popular office spell scrawled down on it, with an in-depth instruction manual to each difficult charm.

Yes, this was exactly the sort of company appreciation that Draco adored to receive.

He was just settling back to listen to some classic Weird Sisters music, and eat a caldron cake, when a sharp knock sounded, drawing his immediate attention.

"Come in," he called out, and then repeated louder when nobody took the initiative to enter.

Scowling after he still received no response, Draco heaved himself out of his chair and made his way grumpily to the door (muttering random curses under his breath as he glanced longingly at the cake situated temptingly on the edge of his desk.)

When he saw who was standing in his doorway, smirking cheekily at him, he was mixed was a sudden bout of fury, mingled with a strange sort of lust.

"Why the hell didn't you come in!" he exploded, eyes narrowed dangerously at Ginny.

"Because I wanted to make you get up," she answered shortly. "Franklin wants you to come to his office now. I'm your P.A., so guess who got the lovely pleasure of fetching you?"

"No idea," Draco growled sarcastically, shoving past her into the open hall. "Gonna stand there all day?"

He then began to walk quickly down the corridor. Ginny trotted out after him, half jogging to keep up.

"What's the rush, rich boy?" she commented, anger sparking the rebellious side of her as she struggled to keep up.

"Just trying to avoid you," he answered grumpily, coming to a dead stop in front of Franklin's office. He would deal with the rich boy comment later. It was time to make a good impression.

Stepping into the office, he ignored Ginny who scampered in after him.

"Good afternoon," came Franklin's voice, from the desk. "Nice to see you Draco and you ,too, Ginny."

If Draco didn't know better, he may have assumed that Franklin was getting a kick out of the obvious tension in the room.

"Afternoon Franklin." Draco and Ginny chorused in much the same way as children at primary school assemblies yell "Good afternoon Miss Miles.ect.ect.)

"As you both know, I am accepting Draco as new owner and boss of this company. Draco, I believe we have already been through the terms of firing staff?"

Ginny looked up interested. Maybe Franklin was more business savvy than she gave him credit for.

"What exactly are the terms Franklin?" she requested, glancing at Draco from the corner of her eye. He seemed for some off reason to be fidgeting....

"Isn't it sort of, well, confidential?" Draco tried, looking at Franklin with pleading eyes.

Franklin looked extremely amused, and flashed a large smile before answering airily, "Oh, I don't think so Draco. Ginny knows pretty much everything that goes on around here."

Draco was trapped...he knew it, too. Glancing around the office he took in the scene, a hateful sneer positively itching to spread its way along his face. Franklin was sitting at his desk, a gleam in his eye, leaning forward over a bit of parchment with the words Contract scrawled over it. Ginny was standing half behind Draco, leaning around trying to read the unidentifiable letters adorning the rest of it. Slowly Franklin began to draw it out from under he elbows. Ginny stopped leaning, and began to stand up straighter.

"You can tell me," she coaxed, sending Draco a triumphant smile. She knew she had won. He was all but hopeless as he watched Franklin lift the parchment carefully, as if it was a baby. He handed it to Ginny smiling.

"Read it out loud Ginny..."

Ginny took it, held it up in front of her eyes and began to read...

"Contract of Turnover in Staff. I, Draco Malfoy, by signing this form agree that I shall not fire or suspend any staff of this company, Spellbound, without a professional or fair reason. If this rule is not abided by, I agree that the employee may take me to court."

Ginny stopped reading and looked up at Franklin with new respect burning in her eyes. He had done it! He had ensured the future of every employee working under the new conditions. Her gaze shifted to Draco. Her was no longer standing up tall, but slouching as if disappointed with himself for signing such a thing. Every fibre in her being held her self back from pole-vaulting on top of the table, and singing "Nah, nah, nah, nah...naaaaaaaah."

She had won.

But...said a niggling voice at the back of her head. You do realise Draco has been your new boss ever since he signed the contract.

All her happiness came crashing down, her happy smile taking a nose dive into a grimace. She could barely concentrate on anything. A wave of dizziness swept over her as she tried to come to grips with the terrible truth. This outweighed her other senses as they blocked out Draco and Franklin, who were signing more and more contracts.

She was brought back to earth with a jolt, as Franklin called out her name in a clipped, loud voice. Once again she was standing in the aqua office, staring at the framed pamphlet for the jazz club in Athens. Franklin called her name again, and she swung wildly around to face them.

Franklin was standing in front of Draco now, and as he moved closer to ask if she was alright, Ginny could make out Draco mouthing the word 'Mental' in her direction. Glaring at him, she straightened up, and mimicked in the same tone as Franklin's clipped voice, "I'm fine, thanks."

"Are you sure?" Franklin replied, glancing nervously at her. "You looked like you were on a different planet for a moment there."

"I'm perfectly fine."

"Then won't you please sign the witness statement?" asked Draco maliciously. "I need the signature to show that, yes, I do own this company now. But you know all this don't you? You were just standing here when we were discussing it. Seriously, Ginny, dear...Maybe you should go home and let the more, uh, senior personale of the company handle this."

"I told you," Ginny practically spat, hands curled tight at her side. "I'm fine for Gods sake. Just let me sign the bloody parchment already."

Franklin's head snapped up in shock. Why was Ginny reacting so badly? The last time he had seen her this disorientated and unlike herself was back when the company had first come into strife. Ginny herself was alarmed by her actions. Draco was a problem...not only was he ruining her life, but he was also making her lose her calm temperament. A month ago if anyone had told her she was going to be bursting into little tantrums left, right and center, she would have happily shipped them off to Saint Mungo's- on a one way trip. But now! it was like someone completely different was inside of her...

And Ginny didn't like the feeling.

Snatching the parchment, she scrawled her signature on the line stating 'witness' and stood upright, waiting.

She didn't have to wait long.

Franklin stood up and heartily thumped Draco on the shoulder. "Welcome to the company Son. Treat it well."

"Thanks Franklin. I intend to."

"Well I'll be leaving in a week, after I've shown you the ropes..."

"What!" Ginny cut in, shouting,"You're leaving so soon!"

Franklin chuckled, almost patronisingly. "Now, now Ginny...The company belongs to Draco now."

"Yes..." she said quietly. "It does. Excuse me please."

Ginny strode over to the door, and let herself quietly out.

* * * * *

Clarissa offered Ginny more cake, frowning sympathetically. What Ginny had just told her seemed wrong somehow.

"And this Malfoy character signed it? Just like that?"

Ginny looked up from miserably eating her cake at Clarissa's question.

"Yep...just like that."

Clarissa scratched her head in wonder...the pieces still weren't clicking. She decided to try her luck on questioning Ginny further. "You mean to say that he let Franklin pull all the ropes...all the rank?"

"Yes, but what is this all about Clarissa? Why the sudden big interest in Malfoy signing the contract?"

"It just doesn't seem right," responded Clarissa, carefully pouring more tea.

They had been huddled up in the window seat of their apartment, watching people walk by and discussing Ginny's job. Ginny had recovered enough to come out of bed and was now relating the events of her day to a concerned Clarissa. They had gotten as far as Draco signing the contract (with frequent tea, biscuit and cake breaks) before Clarissa had started to question the storytelling. Now things seemed to be getting interesting...

"Why isn't it right?"

"Isn't Malfoy, Franklin's last hope. Why would Franklin be calling the shots? He is supposed to be forever in Draco's debt...not pushing him around into signing contracts."

Ginny considered this carefully, thinking back over the events that had transpired that day.

"That's true. Draco even told me as much this afternoon."

-"Lose me and sweetie, you've just lost your job."

"The only explanation that I can see, is that Malfoy needs this job as much as Franklin needs to sell it."

"How can that be?" Ginny asked intrigued. "He's a millionaire...not just somebody in desperate need of money."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Positive! His father does business at the Ministry- Dad told me he's always flashing his money about."

"But is that just his father? Or him as well..."

"At school he always...Oh!"

The truth seemed to dawn on Ginny as she turned to Clarissa excitedly. "He always flashed his money around at school...but Ron said after graduation he worked in a watch company, then vanished for years! He must not have been living off his father anymore!"

"Exactly! So you think he needs this job? Maybe..." at this she turned to Ginny with shining eyes,"Maybe he's even in debt!"

Ginny shrieked in glee, and grabbed Clarissa up to dance around the room.

If Malfoy was so in debt, then it might be easy to get rid of him after all, not to mention that he could no longer present her with empty threats and meaningless quips...no, Malfoy was very much in her power.

Besides, tomorrow was her day off and she was visiting the Burrow...Not to mention her birthday, was the day after, on Saturday.

Yes...Malfoy, I think our relationship is going to improve a great deal...NOT!

* * * * *

Harry Potter stretched his arms out tiredly, said good-bye to his teammates and struggled over to the red sports car parked next to the empty Quidditch stands. As he approached the car, it became apparent that it was slightly rocking...

"Ron? Hermione?" he called out, tapping sharply on the glass windows. He was sure getting tired of returning from practise, only to find his two 'responsible' spectators getting busy in the back of his new car...

Said spectators were now rising sheepishly up from the floor of the car, fake guilty expressions plastered over wide grins.

"Sorry, Harry," muttered Ron smirking, "got a little carried away."

Hermione whacked his arm and asked Harry in a slightly high pitched voice, "Uh, how was practise, Harry?"

"It was fine thanks...though I expect you two were having slightly more fun."

He swung open the driver's side door, started the ignition, then swung around in his seat.

"You guys have got your presents for Ginny haven't you?"

"Yep," said Ron distractedly, as he tried to kiss Hermione again. She gently pried him off her and asked Harry what he had gotten Ginny.

"I wasn't sure what to get her. I was hoping you would come with me now and show me what sort of girly thing she would appreciate."

"Sure Harry."

Harry turned his attention to his driving, a newly acquired skill that Hermione had decided all three of them needed. One training course and learner's test later, Harry was the proud owner of a brand new sports car. He longed to drive by his Uncle's house with it.

Instead, he headed towards the local Muggle mall. He had heard from Hermione that Ginny usually wore Muggle clothes, and this shopping centre had the best selection around. To get there, he only had to go along the highway for about 10 minutes as the mall was situated right beside it. It almost looked as if a random space craft had decided to park next to the freeway...such was the isolation and strange positioning of it.

Harry hoped he didn't miss his exit. Training had really worn him out. When Oliver Wood had approached Harry a year or so after leaving school, interested in whether he would consider playing seeker for Puddlemere United, Harry had never in his life considered the strenuous training required, or the magnificent benefits of playing for such a prestigious team. All he really knew was how much fun he had playing Quidditch. Especially after the Great War, which had been fought throughout his final years at Hogwarts.

Playing Quidditch professionally truly was his greatest dream- and he had been following it ever since.

Shooting an amused look over his shoulder at Ron and Hermione (who seemed almost attached permanently to one another), he grinned when he saw the sign for the exit come into sight. He turned off onto the small road that twisted and turned until he reached the main carpark.

The Mall was big, estimated to be one of the largest shopping centres in Britain, and thankfully both he and Hermione had vast experiences in dealing with Muggle shopping. Ron however, was new to this whole experience, and broke himself apart from Hermione long enough to exclaim in a loud voice,

"Bloody Hell...look at the size of the thing!"

Harry and Hermione laughed cheerfully and pulled Ron out of the car, making him promise not to exclaim too loudly over the different stores and arrangements.

This was easier said than done, however, which they soon found out after Ron discovered escalators ("Lazy sorts, aren't they?") Coffee machines ("Gotta buy Mum one of those Coffee-bingo's") and Elevators ("Like I said before...just plain lazy").

They did eventually manage to drag him to a nice looking store named "Next" which Hermione assured them had exactly the sort of clothes that Ginny was after.

After patrolling around the white painted room and looking over endless racks of clothes, Hermione finally held up a goldish, cashmere sweater, which she guaranteed would look perfect on Ginny. There was another brief struggle in the crowds of holiday shoppers to get to the cash register, and Ron almost gave the game away again, by laughing outright at Muggle money, but they did manage to struggle through and make it to a nearby cafe for lunch.

"Do you think Ginny's happy at her work?" asked Harry as he handed his menu back to the waitress. Hermione followed check, and then grabbed her coffee that had just arrived.

"She seems to be...but I met her for lunch the other day and she seemed agitated for some reason."

"That's true," added in Ron, nodding. "She came to the Burrow for one of those family dinner things yesterday evening. Refused to answer any questions about her job, or her life for that matter. I'm seriously getting worried about her. I mean, she's always been shut off, especially since that whole diary affair but she's gotten worse lately. You don't think there's something she's not telling us, do you?"

"Maybe," said Hermione uneasily. "But it won't do to go prying round into her affairs. Remember when she started going out with Roger and we made inquiries? She wouldn't speak to me for a full month after that."

Ron grabbed a forkful of cake and slung a arm casually around Hermione's shoulder. "I remember that. She was fair pissed-off."

"Ron!" gasped Hermione scandalised. "Don't use such filthy language!"

Harry tried to stifle a laugh as his friends got into a full debate over filthy language, whilst eating strawberry cheesecake and drinking cappuccinos.

"C'mon guys," he said, standing up slowly and signaling the waitress for the bill. "I've got to go into the Q.U. office (A/N Quidditch united) and register again. Do you guys want me to drop you off at the Floo station on the way?"

"That would be great," Hermione said with a grin. "So you're definitely coming to Ginny's surprise party this afternoon?"

"Yeah, Harry. Don't let little 'ole Ginny down. She might have an inferiority complex and start to have a mad crush on you again."

Hermione smacked him on the arm, and together they strolled towards the car.

* * * * *

Ginny strode towards the Burrow.

Her day off had been quite enjoyable, consisting of her sitting around in her pajamas, watching her enchanted ceiling and occasionally straying over to the T.V. to watch some day-time soaps (a habit she would never inform Clarissa of). She had even managed to cook herself pancakes...a rare occasion indeed.

Now as she wandered up the pathway leading to the rickety house that had always been home, she mused over how her spirits could have been so uplifted in just one day. Clarissa's pep talk had helped, as well as the promise of presents the next day...yes, Ginny was feeling as happy as Larry.

On approaching the house, she wondered why it seemed so quiet...usually there was noise floating out in all directions, fuddling her senses. But today there was nothing...she couldn't even smell baking. Worried, Ginny hurried up, and practically jogged to the front door. Pushing it open, she glanced around the hallway.

Instead of being cheery and light as it usually was, it seemed dark and musky, with all the curtains closed and the doors shut. Puzzled, Ginny ventured further into the house, until all of a sudden, she heard a loud thump coming from the living room.

Ginny was now quite scared. People didn't just 'thump' in her house. They yelled and thumped....they blew up things and thumped...not just, well, thumped.

Edging carefully towards the room, she took a hesitant step inside...and got the fright of her life.

A voice yelled, "Flamioworkitis" and lights, and fireworks spilled into the room.

Faces were illuminated left, right and center, and a chorus of loud voices yelled,

"SURPRISE!!!!"