Starts With A Lie

"Three orders of filet mignon, and a couple of parfait of foie gras'! Weasley, serve two bottles of chilled Château des Jacques to table seventeen, pronto. We've got an upperclassmen business meeting on our hands." The portly manager peered anxiously over the countertop, wiping his sweaty hands on his apron.

"Relax, Dave. You know I can handle these high-class prigs." Ginny smiled reassuringly and got out said bottles, swerving around harried waitresses and raucous tables to a number seventeen.

She'd been working at this four star Wizarding restaurant as a waitress since the beginning of the summer, to her family's oblivion. Soon after school had finished, Ginny had overheard her mum and dad arguing over money, again. She had known her family was anything but rich, but had failed to see just how bad their financial problems were.

They were pretty much living off on the twins salary at the moment, and though Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was doing wonderfully, it was hardly enough to support a family of nine. So Ginny had taken a job here at the Terrace, hoping to earn a few galleons to support herself with. It was a wonderful, classy French restaurant in downtown London, and within walking distance of the flat she was staying at.

A fellow waiter, Neil, stopped her. "Hang on, Gin...you forgot your notepad!"

Ginny checked her apron pockets. Empty. "Oh damn, thanks Neil," she said with a grateful smile, taking the small pad from him. "I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost it."

Neil grinned at her, "Probably blushed to the roots of your hair and started babbling."

Ginny made a face at him and continued towards Table 17, her strappy black heels clicking against the wooden floor and matching dress uniform swishing around her knees.

Today's going to be a long day.

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Draco waited impatiently for a waitress to come with their order. For a four-star restaurant, the service sucked. The large, sloth-like man beside Draco grinned and nudged him. "Looks like you've got ants in your pants...is someone cranky because they haven't had their afternoon meal?"

Draco glared at Flint Senior. "For your information, I have better things to be doing than sitting around waiting to stuff my face under the false pretence that I'm actually doing work with a bunch of overweight sloths such as yourself. I have an appointment in an hour with the Minister of Magic that I'd do well not to miss."

Mr. Flint scowled at the fair-haired youth before him. It always irked the older men that someone so much younger than them could be so much more successful. "Looks like you don't have to wait long," he said, gesturing towards the sexiest waitress Draco had ever seen. She was all long legs and curves, wavy scarlet hair accentuating a pale heart-shaped face and large doe-brown eyes.

Sex on legs, Draco thought, smirking. Already his mind was working furiously on the plan that would most surely get her into his bed.

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Ginny could have groaned aloud when she saw just which high-class prigs she was to be serving. The fathers of Nott, Crabbe, Zabini, Goyle, and Flint leered back at her in a way that made shudder mentally. They were far too old to be looking at her like that!

Ginny narrowed her eyes as she caught sight of someone who was anything but old...Ferret-face, she thought contemptuously. She couldn't remember much about him except that he'd given her brother's and his friends a hard time, not to mention every Muggle-born person she'd ever met. The only encounter with him that stood out clearly in her mind was when she had written her crush of the time, Harry Potter, a love poem, and Malfoy had announced it to the world. That had been the most humiliating day of her life, and all thanks to Malfoy. Ginny tried to keep from lashing out at him right then and there.

He was looking at her with the same piercing assessment one would give a new broomstick. She tried not to shudder visibly. Here we go, Ginny though to herself, taking a deep breath and pasting on a bright, fake smile. She positioned herself at the head of the table. "Three orders of filet mignon, two parfait of foie gras'?" she asked with false cheerfulness.

"That's right, and it's about bloody time," Mr. Goyle growled angrily. Ginny heard murmurs of assent ripple through the table. The only person who remained silent was Malfoy, who was still looking at her, contemplating something.

Great, and they've decided to be difficult. "I'm so sorry, there was a disturbance in the kitchens. Perhaps if you had made an appointment..." she trailed off delicately.

Mr. Flint's eyes narrowed. "We shouldn't have to make an appointment! We're busy men, we've got enough to do without making fussy calls," he said pretentiously.

Ginny could feel her cheeks flushing as she tried to contain her anger. Draco saw and cut in smoothly, "Gentlemen, calm down. The food is here now; we've got a beautiful waitress, good company, and something to celebrate! Shall we dig in?"

They all muttered a bit but tucked in anyways; hungry men were easily distracted. Ginny didn't know why Malfoy was being so nice, but she threw him a grateful look all the same, handing him his two bottles of wine. She could have sworn he gave her a small smile as she made her way towards a group of new arrivals.

I don't know what your game is, Draco Malfoy, but trust me, I'm going to find out, Ginny decided.

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Draco smirked as he toyed around with his filet mignon, hungry for something else entirely now. The waitress had responded just as he'd thought she would; now all he needed was for her to offer to do something for him while she was still grateful.

His brow furrowed a bit as he tried to remember where he'd seen her before. She seemed familiar, but he just couldn't put a name to the face. Jenny? Gabby? Whoever she was, she was going to be his soon.

"Gentlemen, if I may be excused? I'm terribly sorry, but I have important matters to attend to," he said with a charming smile. He hated being charming to people he didn't like, but sometimes it couldn't be helped. His father had taught him that.

They all looked at him disapprovingly but said nothing as he threw down his napkin and made for the door. He'd wait for the waitress to finish her shift and woo her. If he wasn't mistaken, there should be a lunch break in about ten minutes.

Draco was not disappointed. Exactly ten minutes later, the back door of the Terrace swung open and several waiters and waitresses rushed out, chattering about nonsensical things that Draco didn't care about. One of the last to trail out was the object of his desires. She was talking to a tall, rather good-looking man with dark brown hair and green eyes. Draco's lip curled as he felt an unreasonable surge of anger.

The man said something to her and she threw back her mane of fiery red hair to release a beautiful, tinkling laugh, her pale white throat gleaming in the sunlight. Draco's anger dissipated just as fast as it had come. Suddenly she caught sight of him staring at her and hurriedly said something to the man. He called good-bye to her, wrapping her in a warm, intimate hug and kissing her cheek before DisApparating.

Draco felt a momentary flash of panic. What if she had a boyfriend? He hadn't even thought of it. Well, Draco decided, she won't have one for much longer if I can help it. He smirked.

Ginny made her way towards him, strappy black heels clicking against the pavement. "What do you want, Draco Malfoy?" she asked, cinnamon eyes flashing.

Draco was a bit surprised that she knew his name, but then it made sense. She had seemed familiar; he'd probably known her in school. If only he could remember her name!

"Hello," he said with as charming a smile as he could muster. "I knew I recognized you. I remember you, but your name keeps escaping me. Now I know it's just going to keep bothering me...what's your name again?"

Ginny stared at him, and then she started to laugh. This time, though, it wasn't sweet and pretty. It sounded harsh and mocking, and Draco suddenly had the unreasonable notion that she hated him. That can't be, he thought, reminding himself of the grateful look she'd given him back in the restaurant.

She sobered just as suddenly, saying, "You honestly don't remember me?"

He looked at her apologetically. "No, but I'd love to get to know you again, if you don't mind. How about we discuss this over lunch?" He offered her a pale, white hand.

Ginny felt like punching him right then and there, or maybe hitting him with the same Bat-Bogey Hex she'd used on him in 4^th year, but she restrained herself. The best revenge, she thought nastily, is that of the heart. So maybe that was why she accepted his offer and his hand, and maybe that's why she lied about her name, about how they'd known each other. Maybe.