Truth Will Out

TRUTH WILL OUT

NO TURNING BACK

"I'm coming," Ginny groaned sleepily as she made her way to the front door.

Bang... Bang... Bang.

"What?" Ginny demanded as she threw the door open.

"I knew you'd still be in bed, Weasley," Draco drawled. "Come on, we have a breakfast date, woman."

"Do we have to?" Ginny whined. "Wouldn't you prefer to have a piece of toast here?"

"A piece of toast would be lovely, along with bacon, eggs, sausage--"

"Okay, give me five minutes," Ginny interrupted.

"You're cooking?"

"No. You're paying!"

"Typical," Draco muttered under his breath. "Did you write your advert?"

"Yes, did you?" Ginny called from her bedroom.

"Of course," Draco answered.

"Do you still want to go ahead with it?"

"We don't exactly have a choice now, Weasley," Draco reminded her. "Remember that contract you were so eager to sign on Saturday?"

"If we both decided we didn't want to do it, then there wouldn't be any consequences."

"Do you not want to go ahead?"

"I'm fine with it," Ginny replied lightly as she entered the sitting room. "Ready?"

"If you think I'm going anywhere with you looking like that, you can think again," Draco stated.

"I'm going straight to work after breakfast and, despite what you might think, the patients don't really care how I look."

"The least you could do is brush your hair."

"I did."

"Pass me your hairbrush," Draco demanded impatiently.

Ginny dug through her handbag and pulled out a large hairbrush loaded with strands of coppery hair. She placed it into Draco's waiting hand obediently.

"For Merlin's sake woman, you're supposed to clean your brush regularly," Draco declared as he inspected the brush.

"When was the last time you cleaned yours?" Ginny asked impertinently.

"Mine is cleaned every time I use it," Draco answered smartly.

"Not by you," Ginny pointed out.

Draco rolled his eyes at her. "Turn around."

"Be gentle." Ginny turned and waited for the brush to make contact with her head. "Oww!"

"Stand still!" Draco growled. "It's not my fault your hair resembles a bird's nest. How many strokes do you allow it a day?"

"What?"

"Ginevra, you're supposed to brush your hair every day. One hundred strokes a day to be precise."

"Like I have time to be that fussy," Ginny claimed. "I brush it until it's neat."

"This is your idea of neat?"

"It was until you started on it."

"Rubbish! I started because you failed miserably at making it look decent enough to be seen outside your bedroom."

"Fuss pot," Ginny mumbled.

"There is nothing wrong with looking like you haven't just rolled out of bed, Weasley."

"Really? I find that look incredibly sexy," she teased.

"Apparently, it is--" Draco smirked. "--on men, or so I've been told."

"I see... It's one rule for you and another for me again."

"It's not personal, Weasley, so don't get your knickers in a knot," Draco assured her. "Men and women are essentially different, and what you like to see on a man, doesn't necessarily look good on a woman."

"Why not?"

Draco's eyes rotated to the ceiling and he took a deep breath. "If I saw a woman walking down the street with her hair looking like she'd just rolled out of bed I'd think that she didn't care enough to look after herself, and that's a put off right away. Men like women who look after themselves, right down to the basics like brushing their hair."

"I see," Ginny answered sarcastically.

"Are you sure? I can always ask Mother to school you in the finer points of deportment."

"Oh, I wouldn't want to bother her," Ginny replied considerately.

"I'm sure Mother would be delighted to assist you," Draco pressed.

"Draco Malfoy, if you so much as think such a thing in your mother's presence--"

"Yes, I know... You'll hex off my manhood and stuff it down my throat, so I can't laugh at you while my mother tortures you," Draco recited.

"Good, you haven't forgotten."

"I'm never likely to," Draco guaranteed her.

That particular threat had been delivered after she'd made a few gaffes at a society dinner party. While she was still angry with herself, Draco had made the foolish decision to suggest that his mother might help her iron out the kinks in her etiquette skills. The threat had been delivered with terrifying calm and it had given him nightmares for weeks.

Ginny grinned evilly. "Good. Are you done yet? I'm starving!"

"Yes, I suppose you'll do," Draco conceded.

"At last!"

"Have you got everything?" Draco asked.

"Yes," Ginny answered patiently.

"Let's go then."

They headed straight for their favorite breakfast café, where Draco quickly placed their usual order and Ginny claimed their favored table. It wasn't an every day occurrence, but they had breakfast together at least once a week, be it before a busy workday or a relaxing weekend brunch.

Draco joined Ginny at the table with two steaming mugs. "You look like you could do with coffee this morning."

"Thank you," Ginny murmured, as her hands closed around the warm mug.

"Are you going to let me read your ad?" Draco asked casually.

Ginny's eyes rose to meet her friend's. His eyes belied his tone. There was a real pleading quality to the usually cool gray orbs. "No, I don't think so."

"I think you should," Draco commented.

She shook her head, enforcing her original response. "It's probably better if we don't look at what we've written for each other."

"Why?" Draco observed her with a curious stare.

"We'll be tempted to start changing things," Ginny answered. "I'm happy with what I've written, but I know, if you start picking at it, I'll be tempted to change things."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Yes." Ginny frowned. "We're both after a certain type of person to apply, and I know I've written my ad with that in mind -- words to attract the exact sort of person I want for you."

"I've done the same, but I don't see why we can't--"

"Draco, how long have we been best friends?" Ginny interrupted calmly.

He thought for a moment, counting the years backwards. "Six years."

"Have I ever done anything to hurt you?"

"No."

"Trust me with this then," Ginny said emotionally. "I'm not going to let you get hurt."

"I'm not--"

"Aren't you?"

Draco sighed. She knew him too well and there was little point in denying that the whole arrangement was beginning to worry him.

"Enough of that," Ginny stated brightly. "How many women did your mother shove at you on Saturday night?"

"I lost count!" Draco ran a hand through his hair as the memories came back to him.

"Anyone of interest?"

"Not a single one," Draco responded. "Some of them were so ugly that they shouldn't be allowed out in public."

"Don't be cruel," Ginny admonished.

"I'm being truthful," Draco insisted. "You can ask Blaise if you don't believe me."

"As if I'd get an honest answer from him." Ginny rolled her eyes. "If they're not willing to spread their legs for him, then they're deemed ugly."

Draco cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow at her. It was bad enough that she'd made that comment in a public place, but to say it while the waitress was placing their meals on the table sent all his ingrained manners into a panic.

"Oh, get over it!"

"It would be nice if you could--"

"Remember I'm in public, and it's unbecoming of a lady to speak that way," Ginny finished for him flatly.

"See, you do remember," Draco said proudly. "Now you just have to employ the advice."

"Hell might freeze over," Ginny muttered.

Draco snorted. "You could just do it for fun. Imagine how many people you'd shock into silence if you acted appropriately?"

"I prefer their red faces when I don't," Ginny replied as she reached over and plucked a piece of bacon from Draco's plate.

"That's another thing," Draco started with a heavy sigh. "If you wanted bacon, I could have easily ordered you some."

"It's all right, I don't mind sharing," Ginny answered with a cheeky smile.

Draco pulled his plate closer to himself. "Just eat your own food, Weasley."

"Merlin, you are grumpy this morning," Ginny observed. "Haven't you had a shag since Friday night?"

"Weasley," Draco hissed across the table.

"You always get grumpy if you go without a shag for too long," Ginny stated smoothly.

"I do not," Draco snarled.

"You do so," Ginny countered. "Listen to yourself now! It's been what? Not even three days and already you're getting antsy."

Draco suddenly leaned back in his chair and smirked at her. "You're doing this deliberately."

"Doing what?" Ginny asked innocently.

"Trying to work me up," Draco stated confidently.

Ginny rolled her eyes in a comical gesture. "You're paranoid."

"Am I?"

"Yes, you are."

"I don't think so."

"Well, if you want to spend the entire day thinking about why I might be working you up -- which I'm not -- you go right ahead. I won't be wasting my day like that."

"Of course not. You'll be too busy waving your wand over dirty bedpans," Draco quipped.

"What I wouldn't give to get you in a bed on my ward," Ginny mused aloud.

"Is that a proposition, Weasley?"

"Not one you'd want to accept," Ginny warned humorously.

"I don't know," Draco pondered. "Having you look after my every need all day long might be entertaining."

Ginny raised an eyebrow at him. "I really don't think your sensibilities could handle peeing in a bottle while I watched."

"You watch?" Draco screwed his nose up in disgust. "That's really perverted, Weasley."

"It's part of my job." Ginny sighed. "Not a pleasant part, but it's necessary at times."

"I can't imagine why," Draco muttered.

"You don't have to know why," Ginny assured him, knowing the reasons would probably horrify him even more, and she'd be knocking back offers to take a position as his secretary yet again.

Draco was nothing, if not protective of the only woman he truly related to, aside from his mother. The last round of job offers came after a particularly nasty incident at St. Mungo's involving a person who had been abusing illicit potions. He had wanted Ginny out of there immediately, and the only safe position he could think of was in his office, serving him, where he could keep an eye on her all day.

She could see his mind starting to wander over the reasons people had to be watched while they relieved themselves and quickly moved to put a stop to his thinking. "What did you get up to yesterday?"

"I told you last night. I had afternoon tea with my mother."

"Is that all?"

"I slept."

"How exciting," Ginny uttered sarcastically.

"More exciting than lunch with your mob," Draco countered.

"Lunch was great," Ginny argued. "The twins force fed Ron a Canary Cream, Bill and Charlie got Percy drunk, we played Quidditch, Harry fell off his broom--"

"Now that would have been entertaining," Draco interrupted enthusiastically.

"You are so mean," Ginny scolded. "He could have been hurt."

"But he wasn't," Draco pointed out superiorly.

"How do you know?"

"You would have told me by now."

"Well-- I might have forgotten to mention--"

"Weasley, go spin your rubbish to someone who doesn't know you." An irritated frown crossed his brow. "If Saint Potter gives himself a paper cut you come over all concerned, and you just have to tell me about it. Why? Because women have to talk when they're worried about something."

Ginny mumbled a few profanities under her breath. Draco was the first to pull her up when she started talking about Harry too much. It wasn't that she wanted to be with him or anything -- she'd been there, done that, thank you very much -- but sometimes she had a tendency to fuss over him, just as she did her brothers.

"Tell me, how did the mighty Potter come to fall off his broom?"

"Charlie bumped him when they were racing for the Snitch," Ginny answered.

"Remind me to buy him a drink next time we see him."

"Whatever," Ginny muttered, totally unimpressed. "I've got to get moving, or I'll be late for work."

"Indeed," Draco agreed, checking his timepiece. "We've just got enough time to call into the Daily Prophet if they're not busy."

"If they are, I'll do mine at lunchtime."

"You can leave it with me, and I'll make sure it gets--"

"No, I'll do it at lunchtime," Ginny insisted.

"So much for trust," Draco observed as he tried to assist her with her cloak. It was an awkward gesture, as Ginny had never quite mastered the art of letting someone else drape her cloak around her shoulders.

"It's not that I don't trust you, Draco," Ginny said softly when she turned to face him. "I simply don't want to put you in a position where you'll be tempted to do something not entirely befitting of the level of trust I've bestowed upon you."

Draco raised an eyebrow and tried hard to fight off the urge to laugh. "Percy help you with that?"

"No," Ginny answered quickly.

A small chuckle escaped from Draco. She got defensive when she lied. "Tell the truth, Weasley."

"I am telling the truth, Malfoy," Ginny insisted in singsong voice. "Now, if you're coming to the paper with me, get moving."

"Pushy bint," Draco snarled in good humor as they made their way out of the café.

The Daily Prophet offices were only a few doors down, so it took them only minutes to reach their front doors. Draco held the door open in a gentlemanly gesture and ushered Ginny through first. She rushed up to the front counter, not bothering to wait for him, and gained the attention of the young wizard behind the counter.

"I'd like to place this in the personal section," Ginny said, pushing a piece of folded parchment forward.

"How long and at what frequency would you like the advertisement to run?" the wizard asked.

"Oh--umm--" Ginny frowned and turned to Draco. "How long are we going to--"

"The contract runs for a month, so why don't we run the ads for a month and, to increase our chances of finding someone, we can allow them to be printed every day," Draco answered smoothly.

Ginny shrugged. "All right."

"Clients usually run their ads once a week," the wizard advised them after over hearing their conversation.

"We're not your usual customers," Draco informed him strongly.

"There's a lot at stake here," Ginny claimed.

"I see," the young man uttered uncertainly. "Is it just the one ad?"

"No, there are two." Draco produced his efforts on a neat square of parchment.

"Well, that's two ads in thirty publications... I'll just get a costing for you." The young wizard rushed into the offices behind the front counter.

"You'd think they'd have all this worked out," Draco commented.

"I think we just threw him for a loop," Ginny answered with a smile. "After all, we're asking for more than normal."

"Perhaps," Draco muttered, discontent evident in his tone.

"Patience is a virtue," Ginny sang.

"I see nothing virtuous about being patient with an imbecile," Draco responded curtly.

"He's not an imbecile," Ginny retorted in a hushed tone. "He's just checking to make sure he charges us the right amount."

"If he's working this counter, he should know the charges off the top of his head," Draco insisted loudly. "He wouldn't last a day working for me."

"He can thank the deities he doesn't then, can't he?" Ginny rejoined.

"That was uncalled for," Draco commented, a little hurt showing in his voice.

"Was it?" Ginny looked at him expectantly. "I don't think so, Mr. Superiority."

Draco frowned for a moment, and then his expression changed to one of deep thought. He nodded a little to himself as his thoughtful expression vanished.

"What?" Ginny asked abruptly.

"Chocolate?"

Ginny's eyes narrowed to slits. "Why would I want chocolate?"

"You told me that you crave chocolate around this time," Draco explained cautiously.

"Oh? And what is this time?" Ginny asked with an edge of danger to her voice.

"You know," Draco uttered uncomfortably.

"No, I don't know," Ginny replied innocently. "You'll have to tell me."

Draco glanced around to make sure they were alone. "It's your grumpy time," he whispered hurriedly.

Deep down she was furious at him for assuming her bad mood wasn't his fault, but his expression was too much for her. He treated women's issues like taboo subjects that might bite him if he spoke of them too openly, yet he was the first to cast a heating charm or rub her back when she needed such pampering. "Are you sure?"

"I keep count," Draco answered confidently.

"You know, you really want to be sure of the source of the irritation before commenting like that, because if you're wrong it means I get to torture you for longer before I kill you," Ginny warned with a nefarious grin.

"I'm sure," Draco replied, suddenly not sounding convinced.

"Why don't you get back to me on that?" Ginny advised as the young wizard from the newspaper appeared again.

"It'll be sixty Galleons for each advert for the month," the wizard informed them.

"Ouch." Ginny frowned.

"Not a problem," Draco said smoothly as he reached for his coin bag.

"Don't you get tired carrying all that around?" Ginny inquired.

"It comes in handy at times like this, doesn't it?" Draco responded dryly.

"I'll pay you back," Ginny offered.

"No need." Draco smiled briefly before turning his attention to the young wizard. "How does this work?"

"Each advertisement is assigned a private owl box, so no one is ever given your contact details unless you give them out personally. For an additional Knut per owl we can forward your owls to save you coming into the office to pick them up."

"We'll have the forwarding as well," Draco decided without consulting Ginny.

The wizard shuffled through some files behind him and produced a couple of forms. "I'll just get you to fill out these forms to set that up."

Draco pulled two quills out of his cloak and handed one to Ginny with a form. He went to work immediately, filling in the required details in his neat, even script. When he was finished he handed the form back to the newspaper wizard and deliberately placed the ad he'd composed on top of the form.

"That one is--"

"I know," Draco cut him off. "That is the ad I will be screening the replies for."

"I see," the wizard uttered.

"Weasley, are you finished yet?"

"Just a second," Ginny muttered as she put the finishing touches on her last answer. "There!"

Draco's eyes wandered over her form. He had intended to quickly check the details she'd given, but found himself unable to read what she'd scrawled over the parchment. "No one is going to be able to read that, Weasley."

"There's nothing wrong with it," Ginny replied.

He shook his head. "Can we have another form?" Draco asked of the newspaper wizard.

With a shrug, the wizard reached for another form. Draco quickly filled in Ginny's details and passed it back to the waiting wizard.

"At least they'll be able to read that copy," Draco said.

"There was nothing wrong with mine," Ginny defended herself.

"Nothing at all, if you're trying to impersonate a Healer and don't want anyone to be able to decipher what you've written," Draco commented.

"For goodness sakes," Ginny hissed under her breath.

Draco ignored her as he paid the advertising fee. After receiving a receipt of payment, a copy of their forwarding arrangements and an assurance from the young man that the ads would be run starting with tomorrow's edition, they left the office. Ginny stopped just outside the door.

"I need to get to work," she said abruptly. "I meant what I said about paying you back too."

"I told you there's no need. I'm quite happy to pay for the ads," Draco insisted. "Why don't you use the money to buy yourself some new robes?"

"Are you suggesting there's something wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"I meant something appropriate to go on a date."

"We'll see," Ginny muttered without conviction. "I have to go."

"Have a nice day, Weasley," Draco said, placing a kiss on her cheek. "Try not to kill too many of your patients today."

"Very funny." Ginny pretended to laugh. "Try to eat a healthy lunch," she advised.

"There's nothing wrong with my diet."

"If you don't count the fact that you eat rubbish for lunch every week day," Ginny pointed out. "Have a good day!"

Draco watched as she hurried down the street towards the Leaky Cauldron. When she was out of sight, he began to wander casually in the direction of his office. He was about to pass the newly opened London Honeydukes store when a delicious idea sprung into his mind. Not one to ignore genius, Draco entered the store.

He saw what he was after right away and immediately approached the counter.

"Can I help you?"

"Do you deliver?" Draco queried.

"We can deliver to any magical residence," the shop assistant answered.

"How about St. Mungo's?"

"Absolutely."

"Splendid," Draco expressed. "I'll have one of those enormous baskets delivered to Ginevra Weasley at St. Mungo's."

"If you don't mind me saying, that's an awful lot of chocolate for someone who's in hospital," the assistant pointed out concernedly.

"She's a staff member," Draco clarified.

The assistant smiled. "Would you like to send a card?"

"Yes, I think I will." Draco selected a small pink card from a display the assistant directed him to and wrote one word: Chocolate?

"Will there be anything else, sir?"

"No, I think that will do for today," Draco answered.

"Very well, that comes to a total of ten Galleons, five Sickles and twenty Knuts."

Again, Draco pulled his coin bag from his pocket and counted out the coins. When his transaction was complete he strode back into Diagon Alley. There was an extra spring in his step as he crossed the cobblestone street on the way to the office. If there was one thing he enjoyed, it was being right, and he knew, without doubt, that Ginny needed chocolate this week.

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