Indentured Servitude

Chapter 2. What You Won't

The entire North Wing of the Malfoy Manor was carpeted in green and silver, and though the prominently Slytherin colors repulsed Ginny; she had to admire the well-furnished quarters. Servant quarters, she thought, they could afford servant quarters.

"This is your room," Adrienne said, pushing open the door.

Ginny paused. The room was nothing like the rest of the magnificent Malfoy Manor, its walls a blinding white. The bed was smaller than most, yet still larger than that in her Gryffindor dorm. The bureau was of the plainest wood, the closet unadorned, but above all, the room was clean, and it was hers. "It's great," she said.

"My room is just down the corridor," Adrienne said softly. "If you ever need anything, not to say that you will, you can feel free to, uh, come over." She smiled up at Ginny, looking rather unsure of herself.

"That's so nice of you," Ginny said warmly, setting her belongings down on the bed. "How long have you been working here?"

"Since a few months ago. I figure Master Malfoy wanted some maids to start early, you know, to train the newer ones."

"But a few months ago, Malfoy was still a sixth year at Hogwarts."

Adrienne stared at Ginny confusedly. "Young Master Malfoy?"

Ginny wanted to laugh. Malfoy must love that, she thought ruefully. "Yes, him."

"Oh," Adrienne said. "You know him then?"

"Unfortunately," Ginny grimaced. The elder girl studied her quietly, raising and eyebrow but not speaking. Ginny could guess that she was in her later twenties, perhaps the early thirties. "He's such a git," she continued, "I don't know how I'm going to stand him this entire summer."

"He's quite cute, you know," Adrienne said suggestively.

"Malfoy? Cute? Somehow I don't associate those two words together," Ginny laughed bitterly. Adrienne's eyes widened, but again, she said nothing. But then, contemplating her words, Ginny realized that half the Hogwarts female population went weak at the knees when Malfoy walked past. Her brow furrowed as she recalled the expressionless gray stare that bore into her just outside the room, and considered the fact that yes, to some, Malfoy would be attractive. The idea of him being desirable to her, however, was still one that did not settle easily in her stomach.

"If you're going to be here all summer, you should probably learn to like Young Malfoy, or at least tolerate him," Adrienne advised, shaking her head with a small smile. Ginny winced. "Anyways, the morning bell rings at six. We prepare food, and serve at seven-thirty." She turned, pausing by the door. "I suggest you get your sleep now."

Ginny collapsed on her bed, exhausted. Sleep would come easily.

~*~

"Where is the food?" Draco demanded.

The breakfast table was empty, Narcissa having risen early and left, leaving Draco sitting alone and undoubtedly hungry in the great dining hall. "It'll will be here, sir," one of the maids pleaded apologetically.

"I knew this whole maids affair was a bad idea," he muttered under his breath.

The door opened, and so did Draco's jaw. Weasley? He thought incredulously as Ginny pulled a silver cart through the entrance, refusing to meet his eye. She was dressed immaculately in her standard uniform, black with white lace, something she would have never worn back at Hogwarts, and so ridiculously stern Draco almost wanted to laugh. Instead, he eyed her coolly, his mind spinning as he realized how easy it would be to make her life hell when summer ended.

"Your food," Ginny said stiffly. The maid behind her elbowed her in the stomach, and Ginny flinched, adding, "Young. Master. Malfoy." Red flushed up her neck, and she turned, disgusted and humiliated. She didn't need to look at Draco to know he was stretching back in his seat with that scheming smile of his, obviously amused by her forced tirade.

"Why, thank you," Draco drawled in mock politeness in between mouthfuls of food. "You know, you Weasleys should get used to serving other people." Ginny clenched her jaw and tightened her hold on the pudding platter as she heaved it up to her shoulder, ready and willing to give him a chocolate facial. He caught her wrist easily in the palm of his hand. "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he murmured, his eyes locking on hers.

Startled by the touch of his cool hand, she loosened her grip, and the platter accidentally flipped up into the air, contents splattering everywhere and sending her tumbling to the ground. Draco stood up abruptly, nearly knocking over the table, and surveyed the mess before him, glaring down at her. "I'm sorry," Ginny offered weakly, struggling to hold back a smile. The sight of Draco Malfoy with pudding trickling down his regal robes was something she had longed to witness since his first demeaning remark towards her family.

"I'm sure you are," He replied, voice dripping with sarcasm and malice. She quieted. Wordlessly, he bent down and grabbed her forearm, pulling her back up. He glanced at her, standing dumbfounded with chocolate smeared all over her hands and the ends of her hair, a perplexed expression crossing her face at receiving help from a Malfoy, and his eyes softened a little.

"I am, Young Master Malfoy," she said with a grin, ruining all sympathy or bemusement he could have drawn from the situation.

His face hardened back into that collected mask of calm. "Go clean yourself up," he snarled, "you look like shit run over."

Ginny's eyes bugged out a little, and she took a step back, looking at the cold Malfoy in front of her who has just helped her up. Hurt flashed through her face quickly, and scurrying out of the room, she paused at the door. "By the way, Malfoy," she shot back before disappearing, "brown is not your best color."

~*~

"Hermione!"

"Ginny?" Hermione's face appeared above the fire, confused but ultimately delighted. "Does Malfoy know you're using the fireplace?"

Ginny shook her head. "He's too busy cleaning pudding off himself," she giggled, quickly explaining the incident in the dining hall.

"And you're still alive?" Hermione frowned.

"Sorry to disappoint you," Ginny chuckled.

"No, I mean, I'm surprised Malfoy hasn't killed you yet. With his temper," Hermione stopped. "Never mind. How is the prat anyways?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Annoying the bloody crap out of me. I have to call him 'Young Master Malfoy.' It's terrible."

"I can imagine."

"What about you, Herm? You seem sad."

Hermione's eyes darkened, welling with tears, and she looked down at her hands. "I'm not...sad," she said softly, "just confused." She took a shuddery breath and blinked a few times, adding, "I don't think you want to know about it."

"Ron, isn't it?"

Hermione nodded.

"And Harry, too. Harry's involved."

"Harry...kissed me, Gin." Hermione confessed. "I thought Harry and I were long over but then he kissed and, oh, I don't know."

Ginny was shocked. No, shocked was an understatement. How could you, Harry? She thought angrily. "He did? When? How? Where?"

Hermione sighed. "Oh, I hate to admit it but it was a wonderful kiss and the moment he did I felt so disloyal to Ron. I wanted to end it, I tried to end it, but it...didn't."

"Did you kiss him back?"

"Of course not!" Hermione declared, astonished. "But listen, it's not how I reacted that's bothering me, its how he acted. I thought Harry and I were through, and I'm happy with Ron, I really am, but I guess I need some time to...sort out my feelings."

"Did you tell Ron?"

Hermione bit her lower lip and shook her head. "I want to," she said quietly. "I can't find the right time, or the courage to tell him. You know how easily he gets emotional Ginny. And I know how weird this must be for you, I mean, you're his sister. This will ruin Harry's friendship with Ron, I know it will."

Somewhere deep inside her, Ginny felt a pang of jealousy, not because she still loved Harry, but because Hermione was wanted. Two wonderful guys would move mountains for her, both close friends she could share a wonderful summer with, and here she was, all alone but for Draco Malfoy. "Just let things settle down," Ginny said. "It'll get better."

A tear trickled out of Hermione's eye. "But when, Ginny, when?" Quickly, she ran her finger under the glistening lashes. "I'm just scared because I know in the end, I can only keep one of them as a friend. And things will never be the same."

"It's all Harry's fault," Ginny said hotly. Her bitterness at he had never noticed her pining, her jealousy at how he yet still loved Hermione, and most of all, her anger at how he would risk so much, including Ron, for a girl, made her mad with feeling.

Hermione shook her head sadly. "No, Ginny, it's mine. I should have seen it coming, I shouldn't. . .have let it happen."

"I talked to Harry before we left--"

"Is that what you were talking about?"

"What did you think?"

Hermione shrugged, offering a wan smile. "Ron and I joked that you two were. . .you know," she said with a little laugh.

Ginny paused. "Did that idea bother you?"

Hermione looked taken aback. "No! Why would it?"

Ginny breathed and changed the subject. "Listen, Hermione, I'm going to owl Harry. Take Ron somewhere else for the mean time. If you want to work things out with him at all, distance will do the trick."

"Thanks, Gin."

"We'll talk later, I promise."

"Okay."

Her face disappeared, and Ginny slumped down against the sofa, closing her eyes. Why were things so difficult, she wondered, and why was she always involved? She recalled the Yule ball awhile back, the first dance after Harry and Hermione's split, remembering Harry's jealous glare at Ron and Hermione, and most of all, she remember sitting alone in the corner. Alone, Ginny thought, I'm always alone.

"Tired already?" a voice behind her snarled, a voice that could only belong to Draco Malfoy. "I should have known you couldn't hold your own."

Ginny craned her neck to meet his eyes, tired and not in the mood for another round of insults. "Sod off, Malfoy." She grumbled half-heartedly. A thick silence hung between them.

"What's wrong?" the softness of his voice startled her as he knelt down beside her.

"Are you honestly concerned if I'm upset?" Ginny asked quietly, meeting his gaze.

It was not a good question to ask. Immediately, the concern vanished from his face and he smirked. "Not really," he replied effortlessly, standing up once again. "Actually, Weasley, I have a list of tasks you need to complete before nightfall."

"Tasks?"

"Like chores, Weasley. Remember how you're a maid?"

He tossed something at her and turned on his heel, leaving Ginny staring after him. She could have sworn that for a moment, he actually cared whether her heart ached for Hermione.

It was the second time in a day he had acted halfway human, if just for a few seconds.

~*~

"Your food, Madame Malfoy."

It had been nearly two weeks since Ginny started working at Malfoy Manor, and the more she saw of her job, the less she despised it. For the most part, she didn't even have to see Malfoy, and the routine of her life pleased her. Narcissa Malfoy was actually cordial to the servants, not quite kind, but at least civil.

"Sorry I'm late, Mother."

Ginny glanced up. Malfoy. He smirked at her. "Planning on serving my food any time soon, Weasley?"

"Sure, ferret-face." Narcissa cleared her throat, looking at the young maid in surprise and befuddlement. "I mean, Young Master Malfoy," Ginny corrected. That she would probably never get used to.

"Draco," Narcissa began, clearing her throat one more time. "I do have to rush now, but don't forget to pick up your supplies from Diagon Alley. And I would prefer if one of the maids accompanied you."

Draco frowned. "Mother--" She looked at him expectantly. "I'm sure they all have chores," he finally said.

"Why don't you accompany him?"

Ginny froze. "Me?"

"Yes you, the little redhead." Narcissa smiled at her son before exiting the room. "Do hurry back, dear."

The two looked at each other in stony silence, Narcissa's footsteps still echoing against the stone ground.

Ginny sighed. A day with Draco. Alone.

How fun.

~End Chapter 2