Normality

Ginny stumbled around her office, staring at the floor and muttering curses under her breath. The situation she was in seemed hopeless- a game where she could lose, or lose even worse. Why had Malfoy done this to her? She couldn't believe it would just be about paperwork...it must be something else, some hidden cruelty.

"Ginny?" called a voice, jolting her from her troubled thoughts. Turning around, Ginny was faced with the last person she would have expected to see.

"Harry?"

"Hi!"

Ginny looked him up and down with pure confusion. Why the hell was Harry Potter standing in her small, office, holding of all things, cookies?

"What are you doing here? I'm at work, for the love of God!"

"Well, I was in the area and I thought it might be your lunch-break. The secretary told me I could find you in here." Harry was about to offer her a cookie, but looked up and saw Ginny's tear-streaked face and trembling body. "Ginny! What's wrong?"

Ginny found herself doing something she would later recall as very embarrassing; rushing over to Harry, she flung herself into his arms and started to sob uncontrollably.

"Shh...it's ok," murmured Harry, softly stroking her hair.

"No it's not," sobbed Ginny, burrowing deeper into Harry's chest.

All her carefully constructed emotions came tumbling down, as her facade of normalcy broke and she was left with nothing but her unprotected heart. Draco had pushed one very troubled girl over her breaking point, and it couldn't be fixed anytime soon.

"Malfoy blackmailed me...I have to go to Australia with him or I lose my job."

"WHAT!?!" Harry thundered, holding Ginny a little tighter than necessary.

Ginny nodded miserably and told Harry the whole story. By the time she had finished, her head was filling with a dark mist, anger and frustration clouding her mind. Harry led her to sit down in her plush, swivel chair. He himself sat on the edge of the desk, and tried to offer advice.

"With a boss like Malfoy, isn't this sort of a blessing? You can find a new job now."

Ginny shook her head sadly and explained carefully, "There isn't a great number of jobs out there Harry...the tourism industry is in turmoil, and it's feeding off onto several other sections of the job market."

"How can that be?"

"Tourism and hospitality stabilize the economy...little towns get profit for tourists, and local suppliers get most of their work from restaurants and hotels. With the industry in a mess, it's affecting the job market. Besides, remember how long it always takes me to find a new job? I can't lose this job Harry. I have a massive rent. Clarissa already covers more than she's supposed to. Look, if I lose this job I lose my apartment...If I lose my apartment, I'm living at home. I won't be normal Harry! I'll be a failure...All I want to be is NORMAL."

Ginny slumped into the desk. There it was again. Her obsessive desire--no, her obsessive *compulsion* to be average. Why couldn't she break free from it? Why was it haunting her life? She hadn't seen Roger for weeks now, but they were still going out. All because of her bloody addiction to normalcy.

Harry leaned over and wrapped his arms around her again. Searching his brain for something that could console her, he finally reached a decision.

"Well, if you don't want to lose your job, think of it this way. Isn't an all expense paid trip to Australia a blessing?"

"I don't think you get it Harry," Ginny said, rage starting to seep into her speech. "Firstly, Malfoy is my, and may I add your, enemy. I might even have to share a tent with him! If he can make my life miserable at the office, imagine what he can do when we're alone surrounded by crocodiles and other unmentionable things!"

Harry was slowly turning purple. Obviously, the idea of Ginny alone with Draco in the middle of the desert, squished into a small tent, wasn't all that appealing to him either.

"I get your point," he said through gritted teeth.

But Ginny had finally reached her limit, and under no condition was she going to stop. To put it bluntly, she was on a roll.

"Secondly, what normal person goes gadding around the desert! All I want is a jolly hotel- is that too much to ask? Besides, I finally got my life sorted out. I have a, uh, well, an ok boyfriend (at this Harry flinched), nice flat, and until a month ago, I had a great job. I don't want to leave and stuff it all up! I just want a nice, *normal* life. I want to read the newspaper, I want to wear striped pyjamas, and YES I want to eat cornflakes! Is this TOO much to ASK!"

"Uh, apparently yes," Harry said softly, ducking his head to avoid Ginny's furious wrath.

"Oh for the Love of God...Harry it doesn't matter if *you're* normal. You're Harry-bloody-Potter! I bet in the Harry Potter job description, it *requires* you to be interesting!"

"Ginny, maybe you should go home."

Ginny launched herself out of her chair. It seemed that now the dam had been broken, years worth of repressed words were streaming forth.

"Shut-up Harry! I'm sick of hanging onto every word you say...It's about time I yelled at you. I'm sick of being Roger's little simpering slave! I'm sick of Ron, Charlie, Bill..."

"Uh-"

"And for God sake, I'm completely fed up with those bloody twins! Fuck everybody."

Harry watched as Ginny paused to take a big breath. Thinking she had finished, he cautiously sidled up to her, ready for the tears. None came however, as Ginny stood up and neatly snapped her favourite quill in half.

"That's better," she said in an eerily calm voice, heading over to the fireplace.

"Uh, Ginny?" Harry asked cautiously as she got out her Floo powder. "Where exactly are you going?"

"To have a little chat with Roger...I may even punch him," she said in the same monotonous voice.

"Ok...WHAT!" cried Harry, trying to reach for her before she jumped into the fire.

"One last thing Harry," Ginny requested, as the flames turned green. "Tell Draco I'm taking time off to prepare myself for this trip...oh, and don't forget to mention, that if he wants war, he's going to get a war...and mark my words, it's going to be one hell of a fucking war."

Then she was gone.

* * * * *

Roger Davies was having quite a nice day.

A rich historian and his wife had been in town that week, and after escorting them around his new gallery, he had shown them back to his house for lunch. So far things were going extremely well; they had made it up to dessert without a single hitch.

"Would you like more chocolate sauce, Mrs. Smithies?" Roger simpered, holding the china jug out to the plump woman sitting next to him.

"Well," she said poshly, "I really shouldn't--all those calories!"

"Mrs. Smithies! Surely you needn't worry about such things!" Roger replied charmingly. "You look at least twenty-six years old--and in perfect health no doubt!"

Mrs. Smithies blushed, giggled a little, and tried to pretend that she wasn't flattered beyond belief by the previous compliment. When she had sufficiently recovered, and her enormous stomach had stopped wobbling, she delicately took the sauce from Roger and poured it generously over her strawberry scone.

"So young, Roger!" Mr. Smithies boomed. "Got to get you spruced up! The clock's ticking, young fellow...tick-tock." He then broke into uproarious laughter, while Roger tried hard to stop his eye from twitching and bravely joined in.

"Oh yes, pity you couldn't meet my long time partner, Virginia."

"Yes it is. I heard that she was a lovely girl...if not a little, well, plain," added Mrs. Smithies, turning her piggy, little nose upwards.

"Plain!" exclaimed Mr. Smithies loudly. "If you call that girl plain, I hate to think what you're opinion of yourself is! She's a stunner- a right little temptress."

Mrs. Smithies glared at her husband viciously, before answering in a curt tone, "Yes, well. Matter of opinion."

Roger was steadily becoming more and more interested with the violet print tablecloth.

"So!" he cut in brightly after awhile of bickering over whether Virginia was a goddess or a tramp. "Anyone up for coffee and biscuits? We can eat them by the grand fire!"

"That would be very nice, dear," replied Mrs. Smithies, fluttering her eyelashes in a rather lame attempt to make her husband jealous.

Roger rushed into the kitchen and prepared some of his special Kenyan coffee, adding to the tray a few chocolate biscuits spiked with a congenial potion. He wanted his guests in the best possible mood before he sprung his business proposition with Mr. Smithies.

When all was completed, Roger strode into the spacious lounge, carefully balancing the tray. He had almost made it to the large, ornamental coffee table, when the fireplace glowed bright green.

"Expecting visitors?" Mrs. Smithies asked in a tone that suggested this was all very bad form.

"No," replied Roger, eyeing the fireplace apprehensively.

The flames crackled for a brief second as Virginia Weasley stepped out, kicking large amounts of ash onto the clean, cream carpet.

Roger watched in horror--Ginny was wearing a cheap suit, for goodness sakes. Not only that, but her hair was down, running in molten red rivers down her back. Mrs. Smithies was staring at her as if she was some sort of wild animal.

"Roger," she growled, flicking her hair over one shoulder. Mr. Smithies watched with wide eyes, until his wife hit him over the head with her handbag. "I want a word with you."

"Virginia," Roger hissed, nodding frantically toward his guests, "If you don't mind I have some company."

Ginny looked over towards the guests as though she had never seen them before. Smiling flirtatiously, she winked at Mr. Smithies, who gulped several times, and asked in a husky voice,

"Hey there, sir. Having a nice night?"

Mr. Smithies stared before answering in a trembling voice, "Good thanks, Ma'am."

Mrs. Smithies eyed Ginny with growing distaste, especially when the girl neglected to say hello to her, instead ignoring Roger's frantic signaling, Ginny grabbed his collar and insisted they talk in private.

"Guess what, baby?" Ginny asked, after she had shoved Roger into his coat closet down the hall. "I was blackmailed and felt up by my boss today."

"Uh, really?" asked Roger distractedly, as he tried to push past Ginny, "Can we discuss this later?"

"Did you just listen to a word I said? I just told you I was sexually harassed and that my boss committed a crime, and you're ignoring me?"

"Well," said Roger gruffly, concentrating on Ginny's chest, much as Malfoy had done earlier, "I wouldn't say I was exactly ignoring you."

Being stuck in a closet with his very attractive girlfriend was starting to get to him. It didn't help that she appeared to be in a terrible rage--this only added to her complete allure. In the manner of somebody who was very self-assured, he reached over and pulled Ginny closer to him in the dark. Ginny came easily, looking up at him through lowered eyelashes.

"There, there sweetie." Roger said, tugging open Ginny's shirt, displaying a delicate cream bra that hugged her features. "Why don't we just relax."

Pulling Ginny's face roughly to meet his, he began to sloppily kiss her, running his hands to the back of her bra and unhooking it clumsily. Once that was taken care of, his hands roamed to her front. Roger grinned with satisfaction, as he roughly fondled Ginny's breasts. Wanting to see more of her skin, he pulled her blouse completely off her and began to suck along her neck, moving rapidly down to her chest area. Roger couldn't believe his luck--Ginny wasn't the sort to usually consented to this sort of thing.

Ginny waited until Roger's head was placed firmly in between her breasts, before saying in an off-hand sort of tone, "I'm going to Australia on Tuesday, with Draco Malfoy--you know? The one who tried to do exactly what you're attempting now?"

Roger's head snapped up in surprise, and he exclaimed, "What!"

"Yes, well, see, I've been blackmailed and I don't really have that much of a choice."

"Virginia," Roger said chuckling patronisingly, "let's not let our imagination get the better of us. Yes I'm *sure* that Draco Malfoy, Millionaire, attempted to make a pass on *you*...little Ginny Weasley."

Ginny snarled and pulled Roger up, shoving him against the wall. Pushing her whole body up against him, she licked his neck and waited until she felt his reaction. In one sudden movement she jerked up her knee, hitting Roger square in his more, uh, sensitive area.

Watching him drop to the floor and squirm around, she fastened her bra and tossed out her long, copper hair. Leaning down to where Roger was now curled up on the floor, she whispered in his ear, "I'm not an ornament--a little doll that you can use as you see fit. Oh, and in case I forgot to mention it to you earlier, we're through."

Roger whimpered, and Ginny threw open the cupboard door, forgetting all about her shirt. Marching through the lounge room, she ignored Mr. Smithies drooling at her, standing proud in her underwear, and tossing Mrs. Smithies a scathing final glare, she hopped into the fireplace.

Ginny guessed that everybody had a breaking point...besides, she needed to pack, mental breakdown not included.

* * * * *

Draco paced through his penthouse, glaring at his feet and grumbling softly.

His interview today hadn't exactly gone as per planned. Ginny wasn't supposed to agree to this little holiday outing...she was supposed to quit! His little pass on her hadn't worked either.

He had expected her to yell, "Sexual Harassment" and run out of the building, but instead she had just stayed sitting there, her little body trembling, causing Draco to feel something he hadn't felt in a long time. Guilt.

Guilty thoughts aside, he was stuck with her. Stuck with that whining, sniveling, hot, little girl.

Wait a tic...he did not just think of that bratty redhead and relate her with hot...must have just been a slip of the tongue where he had meant to say "not".

Grabbing his faithful brandy from the counter, Draco took a massive swig. He was stuck with her now, so he might as well try and deal with it.

Draco just hoped that Tuesday wouldn't come.

* * * * *

Tuesday, February 15th.

Ginny sat in the crowded long-distance portkey terminal, tapping her foot nervously and shakily smiling at the passing-by wizards.

The day she was dreading had finally arrived.

After her little breakdown, Ginny had gone home and burrowed into her bed- covers, ignoring all phone-calls and on-coming Floos from her fireplace. She had kept this up for two days straight, until her family had ambushed her, storming into the apartment and pulling her out of her slump.

Ginny didn't think she could deal with the truth at the moment, instead telling her family that she was off on a working holiday, ignoring the added complications. She had also owled Harry, begging him not to tell anyone about her troubles. He was as good as his word, and nobody had the slightest idea of what was really going on.

Clarissa was the only other person who knew the truth, taking Ginny out shopping for clothes to wear in the hot, dusty deserts of Australia. Ginny was now the proud owner of six pairs of cargo shorts and eight singlet tops.

"Ready?" asked a rough voice to her left.

Ginny looked over and glared at her tormentor. Draco was standing there in a loose polo shirt and some khaki pants.

"Ready as I'm ever going to be," Ginny answered timidly, still terrified of the whole thing.

Without answering, Draco shoved her luggage onto a small trolley and led her towards the customs system. After being scanned with a safety spell, and an identification charm, Ginny and Draco were lead to where a small crowd was hanging around an official looking long strip of rubber.

A perky blonde woman stepped up, and after introducing herself as their hostess, charmed everyone's luggage so it fitted snugly in their pockets.

"Everyone, please step up to the portkey, and remember that some part of you must be touching it."

She checked to see that everyone was holding on then stood back, smiling reassuringly at several terrified travelers- Ginny included.

"Please be prepared for some amount of discomfort. It will be leaving in five seconds."

Ginny trembled, and to Draco's amazement, reached out with her spare hand and gripped his shirt.

Suddenly, the travelers felt the familiar feeling of being pulled through their stomachs, and the whirlwind sensation of being dragged halfway across the globe.

As quickly as it started, it was finished, and they landed with a soft thump in a room full of padding. Heaving herself up from the floor, Ginny checked that her luggage was all safe, and walked shakily towards the exit, Draco following jerkily behind.

When they emerged through the door, a blast of hot air hit them, with a voice booming,

"Portkey sixty five, from London, England. Arrived at 11:30 am."

Draco grabbed Ginny's arm and lead her over to customs. After another grueling ten minutes of charms and identifications, they managed to reach the exit, peeling off their jumpers as more heat invaded their senses, sending Ginny into a fit of nausea, flooding her brain and filling her whole being with a sense of the surreal.

Ginny wasn't sure how Draco managed to get her into a taxi, or even how they made it to the hotel. All she was vaguely aware of was Draco shoving her into a king-sized bed and then there was sleep.