Chapter 2 : The One Where They Meet...But Not Really
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When she arrived at the club, Ginny greeted the bouncer with a smile and went in. She walked to the back of the establishment without making eye contact with anyone, and then she opened an inconspicuous door that led to the employee locker room.
“Good, you’re here,” a tall, African American man said with a smile. He was wearing a suit and was carrying a box of liquor bottles.
“Nowhere else I’d rather be, boss,” replied Ginny, returning the smile.
“You and I both know that’s a lie.” The man chuckled. “We are short staffed so get your booty out there ASAP, okay?”
Draco found himself a perfect spot in a hidden corner close to the bar. His eyes had finally gotten accustomed to the strobe lights and his ears had finally given up trying to catch any other sound but the strange music blasting from the speakers. In his hand, Draco held a muggle version of firewhisky while he rested comfortably in a small couch.
As he relaxed, Draco’s mind drifted to the case at hand: Ginny Weasley. Draco had no doubt in his mind that he would find the girl because—lets face it—he was The Hunter and she was just a stupid girl who probably thrived on the drama of running away. What Draco did not understand is why she had left in the first place; could it be that living with Potter was so utterly unbearable? Maybe for a sane person like Draco, but the Weaselette had been in love with Potter since Hogwarts. Maybe she had gotten knocked up and was too embarrassed? Nah! Weasleys obviously loved contributing as much as they could to the overpopulation of the world.
Maybe it would be best to just ask her when I find her, though Draco.
Draco took another sip from his glass and felt the sting of the liquor sliding down his throat. He pondered over his next move. He was almost certain that Ginny was still in Seattle, however, looking for her in this city was not going to be an easy task, especially since he was going to have to severely limit his use of magic. Seattle had an almost non-existent community of wizards and when this was the case, it became easier for one witch or wizard to sense when somebody else was using magic. He did not want to mistakenly alert Ginny of his presence in the city.
A particularly attractive young woman standing at the bar interrupted Draco’s train of thought. She was a server, he could tell by the outfit: white tank top—which covered nothing below her belly button—and really short yellow shorts—which hugged her buttocks perfectly. Her pale skin contrasted with her raven hair.
Draco found the woman to be quite attractive, not just because of her physique but also the way she wrinkled her nose as she took a shot of liquor, the way she laughed at something the bartender said and the way her hips had never stopped swaying to the rhythm of the music.
Quickly finishing his drink and putting down his empty glass, Draco signaled the bartender for another drink and the bartender complied, sending the young woman with the drink as Draco had planned all along.
“Here you go, sir,” she said.
With the little light available Draco was able to barely discern her facial features. She was as beautiful as he had predicted: green eyes framed by thick eyelashes, ruby red lips and light freckles sprinkled elegantly on her nose and cheekbones. She seemed oddly familiar, but Draco was sure he would remember if he had met her before.
“Anything else love?” she asked in a sweet, almost seductive voice as she cleared his table of the empty glass. Draco wasn’t naïve enough to think she was actually interested in seducing him and he guessed she was doing what it took to get a good tip, but he decided to play along anyway.
“You could keep me company for a bit,” he said.
“Oh! I would love to sweetheart but I’ve got other tables to…” she finally lifted her gaze to meet his. Green eyes met grey ones and for some reason the woman’s eyes grew as big as pebbles. Oddly enough, she seemed…shocked.
Ginny felt her heart skip about a dozen beats. The air refused to fill her lungs. All she could do was stare at those ice-cold, grey eyes. She had seen those eyes before. In fact, she had seen that man before, only he had been younger back then, his hair a little longer, his body a little less fit.
The guy who used to tease her about her freckles every occasion he got when they attended Hogwarts, the Golden Trio’s nemesis, The Hunter.
What is he doing here?
There was no time for Ginny to find out, she had to get out of his sight as soon as possible before he recognized her.
Thank heavens for the wig and the different eye color, she thought. Her red-haired mane would have been a dead giveaway of her true identity.
As quickly as she could gather herself, Ginny finished cleaning his table and said, “I have other tables to tend to.”
And she practically sprinted away from Malfoy.
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