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Unbeknownst to the students of Hogwarts, Madam Puddifoot's was more than a simple tea shop during the week. It transformed into a humble tea shop when the student's weekend visits to Hogsmeade began, but between those two days, there were still five that required a business to be run. The oldest business in the world, in fact. Selling tea wasn't enough to pay the bills worthy of a store located in Hogsmeade, but selling sex definitely was. (Just ask any Muggle.)

The store itself never altered, pastel pink both inside and out; it was kept that way to deter some and to amuse others. The interior of the shop was not as cramped as it once was though, as extra tables were brought out for the Valentine's Day rush, and as such, the teashop could generally be walked through from front to back without bumping into anyone or anything. Not unless they were excessively drunk or trying especially hard, at least.

For those that wandered into the teashop during the week expecting tea were gently guided back out of the door with the help of a spelled bell, tinkling merrily on their entrance and dulled on their exit. The spell didn't do any lasting harm, really; it simply removed any memory of what they had seen in the shop and then gave the witch or wizard in question a sudden impulse to go to the Three Broomsticks instead. Rosmerta was glad for the extra business and happily supplied Madam Puddifoot with Firewhisky on request. More businesses in Hogsmeade also offered their goods in return for Madam Puddifoot's impulsive nudge, to which she readily agreed (in the spirit of promoting local business, of course).

After the Final Battle, and Voldemort's defeat, Madam Puddifoot saw no need to change her business. It simply needed to be handled more discreetly, as people that were once wealthy and feared were now as poor as beggars and ignored just as easily, too. Of course, for a select few (one family in particular), the opposite had happened; their poverty was replaced with riches unlike any of them had ever owned before, and they could not leave their homes for the crowd of people around them. It was for this reason that Madam Puddifoot decided to install a Floo system directly to her teashop, allowing for further discretion no matter the witch or wizard's financial status.

Today was her first day opening after the Christmas and New Year break (everyone deserved a holiday, and her staff were no less deserving than her clients to spend time with loved ones), and Madam Puddifoot had two new wizards on her staff that she simply knew would bring in even more business than usual. They had been former clients themselves, before the war, and knew exactly how these things worked. However, they had requested something of her before signing their contract: they would only work together, and they would be allowed to choose their own clients, not the other way around, as was usually the norm. Madam Puddifoot had known how fussy these two could be while they were clients, and she had expected nothing less of them now. She had agreed to their terms easily - they weren't the first, and she doubted they would be the last, to request something similar - and altered their contracts with a flick of her wand. Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini had signed on the dotted line without hesitation.

Her first client entered the store half an hour after the door opened, and Madam Puddifoot simply nodded to the witch as she made her way through the tables, looking at the witches and wizards already seated at each table before moving on. The witch ended up sitting at Draco and Blaise's table, and Madam Puddifoot waited a few minutes to see if they would agree to her presence. When it seemed that she wouldn't be cast away, Madam Puddifoot prepared a tray of tea and scones, making her way over to the table to offer the tray to the witch for a certain price. It was three Sickles, a higher charge than her usual menu, and the witch probably would have refused had Draco not smiled at her charmingly and mentioned something about cream and the sweetness of jam, Blaise taking one of Draco's long fingers in his mouth. The witch could not seem to get her purse out fast enough, cheeks red as she thrust the coins at Madam Puddifoot. She set the tray down and left without being noticed, the witch purely focused on the show Draco and Blaise were putting on with their spoons and the small dish of cream. Madam Puddifoot reserved her laughter until she was in the safety of her Silenced kitchen. Those two wizards were going to make her a very rich witch.

...

"You haven't left the house in days, Gin. You're driving yourself insane being cooped up like this," Neville said certainly, pointing a dirt-covered finger at her.

Ginny made a non-committed noise in response, focusing on her task of repotting the Snapping Dragon sapling. She finished without the plant attacking her, though she had Stunned it before going near the damn thing; either way, Ginny considered it a success.

"I'm not going insane, Neville. Those bastards from The Daily Prophet have started stalking me via Floo now that Harry's announced his engagement, and I've set the wards around my house so that they can't get in again."

"But it's also restricting you from getting out. Have you reported the Floo to the Ministry? You're a Weasley; it should have been fixed already," Neville said, setting aside his pruning shears and cleaning his hands in the greenhouse basin.

"You know how much I hate using my name like that, Nev. I told them I was Susan Bones when I reported it last week when I realised what they'd been doing. So far, I've only been given a temporary patch. I can get one secure trip a week, and you were mine for this week," Ginny said, smiling and pressing a kiss to his cheek before taking over the sink to wash her own hands.

"You mean you could have gone grocery shopping, but instead you let me come over? Honestly, Gin, sometimes I wonder about your priorities," he muttered, shaking his head.

"The house elves get food for me, Nev. Besides, I'd much rather your company than being hounded out on Diagon Alley like I was last month."

"Oh? Which long-lost relative was it this time?" Neville asked.

"A witch claiming to be the long-lost daughter of Uncle Fabian. I swear they're getting less inventive as the years go by," Ginny muttered, drying her hands on her pants before leading Neville out of the greenhouse and up to her home.

"Hmm, I'll say. Remember that one bloke that tried to alter the Weasley family tree by adding his own on the end of some obscure branch?"

"Ugh, unfortunately. I'm sure my poor mother's still having a panic attack over the state of our tapestry. He didn't even stitch it on properly; it took her three days to undo his mess."

"I'm sure if she hadn't pitied the man so much, she would have sent him a Howler on his disgusting attempt at embroidery," Neville snickered.

"More likely that if he hadn't been taken straight to Azkaban, I'm sure she would've done it," Ginny said, shaking her head.

There was a bright flash of something purple behind them, making Neville start in surprise.

"What the hell was that?"

"One of the reporters outside of my house attempting to take a photo," Ginny replied with a brief shrug. "I may have altered my wards just to really fuck with them," she said, smiling wickedly. "Any time they try to take a photo, they get plastered with purple goo. Several lawyers have told me via owl that it completely ruins their clients cameras."

"Bloody hell, Gin. No wonder Seamus starts to cry if he hears your nam. What else are you putting my poor boyfriend through?" Neville asked, grinning as he opened the door for her.

"Nothing I'm not paying him for, thank you very much," she muttered, raising an eyebrow at Neville pointedly.

"Yeah, I know. He's been working on a case that's kept him late in the Ministry most nights, and they don't pay half as well as you do. You know Seamus would work for you for less, right?"

"Yes, but he's the best lawyer in the wizarding world, and the only one I'd trust to deal with all of this crap," Ginny said, giving a generic wave towards the group of reporters that were camped outside of her home.

"I'll tell him you said that," Neville said with a warm smile.

"Good. Now, how about lunch?"

"Excellent idea, Gin," he said, offering his arm.

She grinned and took it with a little curtsy, laughing as they headed down to the kitchen.

Half an hour later, they were both full of food and in the sitting room relaxing, when Neville looked over to Ginny and scrutinised her suddenly.

"What? Do I have crumbs on my face?" she asked, swiping at her mouth with a frown.

"No, nothing like that. It's just ... are you all right, being here alone? You haven't dated anyone since Harry, and I worry about you sometimes, Gin."

"Oh, Nev, don't. You sound just like my mother," Ginny groaned, batting a hand in his general direction in a half-arsed attempt to get him to shut up.

"It's true, though. Harry was three years ago, Gin."

"I'm aware of that, thank you, Neville," she muttered, a little coolly now.

"Don't be like that, Gin. I'm just worried about you. I could set you up with someone, if you like. I know Oliver's been looking for a date for a while; what about him?"

"Please, the sooner he gets locked in a room with Flint and Bell, the happier everyone will be," Ginny said, rolling her eyes at him.

"Really? Damn, looks like I owe Seamus a Galleon then. Okay, what about... uh... Justin?"

"No. Neville, we're not doing this. I'm fine, okay? So I haven't had sex in a while, so what?"

"I said date, not sex, Gin," Neville pointed out, grinning when she swore at him under her breath. "You could've called me and Seamus if you just wanted sex," he added.

"No, you two are happier without me, and have been for the last four years. Besides, it's nothing I can't handle. No more talk about setting me up with someone, okay?"

"All right, Gin," Neville said with a sigh. "But if you really just want sex, why not go to Madam Puddifoot's?"

She frowned at him. "I don't see how going to a teashop will help get me laid, Nev."

His eyes widened slightly. "You mean you don't know?"

"Know what?"

Neville took a moment to chuckle, and grinned at her broadly before answering. "During the week, Madam Puddifoot's is basically a high-class brothel. It's only the teashop on the weekend for the students. It's a nice establishment, and she makes sure that all of her staff are tested and clean, all of that... What? Why are you looking at me like that?" Neville asked suddenly, seeing Ginny's expression.

"How do you know that Madam Puddifoot's is a brothel, Professor Longbottom?"

Neville went bright red. "Uh, Seamus... we kind of... go there sometimes," he admitted. "It's a treat for us; we get to do what we like without anyone thinking less of us."

To say that Ginny's interest was piqued was an understatement. "And you have to go there to do it? What do you like?" she asked curiously, sitting forward and licking her lips slightly in anticipation.

"Well, I hate you right now," Neville groaned, his head lolling onto the back of his armchair. "You know that Seamus can be somewhat of an exhibitionist - " now that was another understatement, Ginny thought with a grin; she remembered how at Hogwarts, Seamus would often walk from the bathroom to the boy's dormitories in a scrap of a towel, just so he could drop said towel in front of whoever was in the Common Room at the time. " - and I... I like sucking him off in public. He likes to see if he can come without alerting anyone else to the fact that I'm under the table."

"That sounds like fun," Ginny said, grinning broadly. "Does Seamus reciprocate?"

"Hand job only," he said with enough conviction to make Ginny wonder what had happened to make Neville refuse a blow job in public.

"So, you said it was like a brothel? How do you get a table to do that, then?"

"Oh, we usually just pick one of the tables that has a lone witch or wizard; Seamus doesn't care who's sitting there, as long as I'm between his legs," Neville said, grinning.

"I'll bet. I've gotten him drunk before, and I know just how much he loves your mouth. Said there was a thing you did with your tongue that drove him insane?" Ginny snickered.

Neville did a complicated tongue movement, and Ginny's snickers stopped immediately.

"Y-yeah. I can see how that'd do it," she murmured, fanning herself briefly. "So... Are you going to Madam Puddifoot's anytime soon?" Ginny asked.

"Haven't planned it; but you could probably go there yourself. Madam Puddifoot's set up a secure grate in the Floo system - no one would even know you'd been there. Especially not that lot," he added, thumbing out towards the garden. "The grate's by invitation only, but I can let her know that you're interested, if you like?"

"No. It's all right, don't worry about it," Ginny said quickly.

She didn't really trust the Floo system anymore - secure grate or not - and didn't want to risk the reporters discovering that she'd gone to a brothel, high-class or not.

Neville seemed a little disappointed at her answer, but nodded anyway. The conversation turned to Quidditch and Herbology, but Ginny would be lying if she said that she wasn't still thinking about Madam Puddifoot's by the time Neville left an hour later.

Ginny's libido was usually predictable, so she blamed Neville entirely when she woke up in the middle of the night, her body aching and needing release. Her dream hadn't helped, the thought of sitting at a table while someone slipped between her legs, licking and touching her while she squirmed against their tongue and fingers, her hips jerking forward with each light touch. She palmed her breasts firmly, nipples beading under her hands, then slipped a hand down to press against her wet knickers. She rubbed slow circles against her clitoris with her thumb, sliding a finger past the useless fabric and to her wet folds. Rubbing them between her thumb and forefinger, Ginny's breath caught as she tugged at one nipple sharply.

She wished she had another set of hands so she could do everything she wanted all at once. Or someone who was very good at following commands, another set of hands, maybe firm and calloused as they ran up her thighs, thick and blunt fingers digging into her hips to pull her close, tongue licking into her as she spread her legs a little wider.

Ginny pressed and rubbed against her clit firmer, chasing the release instead of relishing the build up as she might've otherwise. She clenched her eyes tightly, trying to think of everything and anything to help her get there faster. A body pressed up against hers, a cock buried inside of her, hands stroking and tugging her breasts, her hair being pulled back so her neck could be licked and sucked and bit, a body pressed up behind her, another cock firm up against her arse, and another set of hands scratching down her ribs lightly.

Fuck,yes,more,more,fuck,fuck,fuck! The mantra spilled out of her in a low and heavy moan, and Ginny fell back against her sheets in a haze of sweat and sex, not even realising that she'd arched off the bed in the first place.

Pulling off her sopping wet knickers, Ginny scrunched them into a ball and then threw them in the direction of her laundry hamper. Her orgasm had been unexpected, but not unwelcome, and it made it all too easy to fall asleep with a blanket covering her cooling body.

When Ginny woke up the next morning, she sent a house elf with a note to Neville, asking him for the grate number to Madam Puddifoot's. She didn't dare risk sending an owl and having it caught. It hadn't happened yet, but Ginny was sure it was only a matter of time before one of the wily reporters managed the feat.

...

Madam Puddifoot was not particularly fond of surprises. She tried to keep herself as well-informed on every topic, person, and social event as possible in order to limit surprises. She knew all too well what the Weasley's were going through, and now that Harry Potter had proposed to his girlfriend, reporters were absolutely hounding the youngest Weasley in order to get a reaction from the witch. Of course, since they were hounding the youngest Weasley, the reporters were dealing with their own set of risks and consequences. On passing Seamus Finnigan's table (she made sure the floors were spotless for Neville's benefit), Madam Puddifoot had heard about the purple ooze that destroyed the reporter's cameras, chuckling to herself on the way to the kitchen.

Later, when Neville asked her to invite young Miss Ginevra Weasley to the teashop, Madam Puddifoot was far from surprised. She sent an invitation that evening, instructions and rules included in the envelope. Three days later, the witch in question stepped out of the fireplace and into the teashop. Madam Puddifoot smiled and led Miss Weasley through the shop, informing her that any table with a red light hovering above it was already occupied, and one with a green light was available to choose from. It was early in the day, and most witches and wizards were still at work, so a lot of the tables were lit green.

"Your privacy is of the utmost importance, Miss. I personally ensure that any client's details are kept secure, and away from this establishment, should anything unfortunate happen," Madam Puddifoot said smoothly.

Almost five years ago, something unfortunate had happened involving Aurors, taxes, and the Ministry. While she had had enough money to convince the correct Ministry officials to rush through her store's paperwork, her business had suffered for almost three straight months until she could convince her clientele that everything was sorted, and Aurors would not burst in during her opening hours ever again. That was a surprise that Madam Puddifoot was not willing to repeat.

"And I just sit wherever I like?" Ginny asked, glancing up at the green lights above the tables. "What if I don't end up liking the wizard or witch? Am I still required to pay?"

"I would hope that you would determine your liking of the witch or wizard before you needed to pay for anything. Talking is free, but that can be done outside of business hours; I'm sure you understand," Madam Puddifoot added.

The redhead nodded, and with a smile, Madam Puddifoot left her to her own devices. She went to the kitchen to get Miss Weasley a complimentary tray of tea and scones (the first was free, it often encouraged repeat visitors, and there were a few drops of a Calming Draught in the tea to help ease any nerves for the first timers; not that they needed to know that). By the time she had readied a tray, Miss Weasley was no longer in sight, and a table had a red candle floating above it. Madam Puddifoot frowned slightly, realising that it was Draco and Blaise's table today. She waited, expecting Miss Weasley to be rejected by the two wizards - or Miss Weasley to reject the two wizards, even - but minutes passed and the candle remained red.

Well, that was certainly a surprise.

...

Ginny wandered through the teashop, glancing to the witches and wizards at each table. She wasn't entirely sure what she was looking for - perhaps a wizard for her first time here, something familiar at least, before she sat at a witch's table - but as soon as she saw Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini sitting at a table, she stopped. Her fantasy from last week - two sets of hands on her body - came to mind immediately, and she barely stopped herself from visibly flushing or moaning outright. But this wasn't right, obviously. They were together, which had to mean they were clients, not staff, surely? Ginny looked up, and the candle was definitely green.

"Are you going to sit down, or are you going to stare at the candle all evening?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow slightly.

"Is that the way you proposition all of your potential clients?" Ginny snarked back.

"Oh, sweetheart, we don't have to proposition anyone. They all just sit down as soon as they see us," Blaise said, licking his lips as he looked her over.

Ginny wanted a pleasant evening. She wanted to go to a different table as far away from them as possible, never mind her damn fantasy. However, instead of turning to leave, Ginny found herself taking off her robe and sitting down in the booth. The candle overhead turned red.

"Now, that's better, isn't it, sweetheart?" Blaise murmured, sliding a hand up Draco's arm in a provocative way.

"Don't call me sweetheart," Ginny said.

"What would you prefer to be called, then? Darling, perhaps? Lover? Cherie?" he suggested, the French rolling off his tongue easily.

"I'd prefer to be called by my name; pet names don't do a thing for me," she said firmly.

"Ginevra it is, then," Blaise said, and there was something about the way that he said her full name (which she usually hated more than pet names) that made her shiver.

Madam Puddifoot appeared a few moments later, placing a tray of scones, cream and jam on the table. She smiled at them briefly as she placed the teapot and teacups on the table.

Draco started sucking jam from one of Blaise's fingers, their eyes dark as they watched each other. Ginny watched them breathlessly.

"Enjoy," Madam Puddifoot said warmly, pushing the small trolley back to the kitchen.

"Oh, I will," she murmured.

Ginny sipped at her tea. She recognised the taste of the Calming Draught, though it was weak, and continued to drink anyway. It was either the tea or order a few shots of Firewhisky, and she had seen the drinks menu that came with the invitation. There was no way she was spending two Sickles on a shot of Firewhisky; just because she could afford it now didn't mean it was necessary to spend it.

"What would you like us to do, Ginevra?" Blaise asked, glancing over at her.

"Keep enjoying yourselves for the moment; I think I need to finish my tea before I make any demands," Ginny replied.

"Demands, hmm? So you'd like to order us around, would you?" Blaise asked, eyes fluttering shut as Draco nipped at his fingertips gently.

"Yes," she said, her eyes focused on the tip of Draco's tongue as he licked at Blaise's fingers.

"What would you have us do?"

"Touch each other," Ginny replied.

"How?" Draco asked, finally pulling away from Blaise to look over at her. "You have to be more specific than that, Ginevra."

She had the feeling that he was teasing her, testing her, daring her to continue. Ginny gave a brief smirk; now that was something she could do.

"Well, I'd get you to stop acting as if this was turning either of you on," she said, her voice firmer than either one obviously expected. "The light licks and finger biting is probably enough for your other clients, but that's not what turns you on, and I like my sexual partners to be as turned on as I am."

Draco took Blaise's fingers out of his mouth and they both sat there silently, watching her for a long moment. All at once, Ginny had seemed to lose the innocent and first time in a brothel façade, and sitting before them was a witch who knew exactly what and who she wanted.

"You've had sexual partners at the same time then?" Blaise asked curiously.

"Seamus and Neville, mostly. Katie Bell and Marcus Flint a few times; it was far too easy to catch them after a game," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "I didn't go to the same extent with those two as I did with Seamus and Neville, of course; that's not what they needed, they just needed to realise that a third was necessary in their little arrangement."

Blaise snorted in amusement. "I presume you mean Oliver Wood?"

"Of course, and if my owls weren't being watched by reporters, I would have contacted him already with an anonymous note on how to get into the Harpies' change room after a game."

"We can do that for you, no one watches our owls anymore," Blaise said with a smirk.

"I hate to interrupt this matchmaking session, but as Madam Puddifoot always says: talking is free and can be done outside of business hours," Draco said pointedly.

"Never mind him, Ginevra. He's hard as a rock and gets irritable when he can't get off."

"Oh, in that case... Draco, put your hands on the table. Blaise, undo your trousers and start stroking your cock. I want Draco to watch you," Ginny said, elbows on the table as she rested her chin in her hands and watched them.

Draco made a small noise of annoyance, but did as she instructed, placing his hands on the table reluctantly. Blaise seemed much happier, and made a show of unbuttoning his trousers to free his half-hard cock. It didn't take long for him to stroke himself to full length, and while he could feel Draco's hungry gaze on him, Blaise didn't look away from Ginny. Her eyes seemed to shine eagerly as she watched them, and he could see her hard nipples through her shirt.

Ginny lowered her hands and scooted around the circular booth until she was sitting right next to Blaise. Draco was staring at Blaise's cock hungrily, and his own cock was tenting his trousers in what had to be a painful way.

"I'm going to suck you off now, Blaise. Draco, don't you dare look away," Ginny added firmly, looking at him to make sure he would understand and agree.

He gave a brief nod, biting his lip as he saw the pre-cum leaking out of Blaise's cock. Ginny slid under the table easily and took Blaise in her mouth without preamble.

"Fuck," he hissed, his hips arching off the seat and driving him further into her warm, wet mouth.

Ginny seemed amused at his response, but held him down firmly, and continued to suck and lick Blaise's cock. Draco watched as her hair spilled over Blaise's thighs, the small peek he could see of Blaise's cock as she slid her lips up his length in a torturously slow manner. Draco wanted to take his own cock in hand, but she was torturing him even more than she was Blaise. His hands clenched into fists, refusing to give in and touch his cock, and Draco looked up at Blaise who was mouthing the word 'fuck' over and over quietly. Blaise looked out of it completely, but he must have noticed Draco watching, because he started to describe what Ginny was doing to him.

"She's sucking my cock so fucking hard, Draco. Feels like I'm inside your tight ass, but then she does this thing with her tongue that... oh, fuck me, she did it again. I'm going to try it on you tonight, show you what I mean, and you'll want to thank her with a dozen roses or something. Her tongue starts off flat against the vein of my cock, then she moves it do to this rubbing motion on the head, and every single time she moves up, her tongue does this swirl thing on the tip that just... fuck-fuck... Oh, fuck. I'm coming. Fuck."

Draco should have been surprised that Blaise hadn't lasted longer, considering he usually had the better stamina of the two of them. But with the rushed and lust-heavy way he described what Ginny was doing to him, Draco found that he was only surprised that Blaise hadn't lost control sooner. Ginny pulled off of Blaise's softening cock, licking her lips and catching the come that had seeped out of her mouth. She seemed excessively pleased with herself as she settled in between them, but the look of delight on her fact multiplied when she saw that Draco still had his hands on the table.

"I never thought you'd be the type to follow orders, Draco," Ginny admitted. "Especially not when your own pleasure was at stake."

"I've found that clients like it when I do what I'm told," Draco replied. "I'd prefer a repeat client rather than a few minutes for my own pleasure."

"Hmm, interesting. Well, now I hope you'll keep your hands on the table for just a little while longer. Blaise, would you be a dear and get your hands on my breasts, please?" Ginny asked, undoing the buttons on her shirt to reveal a teal bra with black lace decorating the cups.

"Of course, Ginevra," he replied warmly, cupping her breasts immediately, his thumbs brushing up against her hard nipples.

"Now, Draco, I want you to stay very still. Try to relax if you can," Ginny murmured, pressing a kiss to his neck.

Her lipstick, most of which had already smeared off on to Blaise's cock, left a pretty smudge on Draco's pale skin. She smiled as she slowly undid Draco's trousers, listening to his breath hitch in his throat. He, like Blaise, wasn't wearing underwear, and his cock jutted up proudly, red and already leaking against his stomach.

Blaise slid a hand underneath Ginny's bra, squeezing her breast before rubbing her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. She moaned appreciatively, and started to stroke Draco in response. Draco was leaking profusely enough that she didn't even need the lubricant that was usually supplied, and Ginny slipped her other hand into Draco's open trousers to start caressing his balls. He jerked in his seat, breath stuttering as she started to squeeze and slide her hand against his cock faster still.

"Blaise? Take Draco's fingers in your mouth. Fuck them in time with my hand," Ginny added.

Blaise used one hand to take Draco's wrist, lifting his hand to his mouth. He glanced over Ginny's shoulder, watching her rhythm for a moment before he copied it, Draco's fingers slipping between his lips. They usually did it the other way around because Blaise was a better actor than Draco, and Draco couldn't make as many snarky comments to their clients when his mouth was full. But he didn't seem inclined to say anything today, or at least, not to her.

Ginny pressed up against Blaise's chest, reminding him that his hand was still cupped in her bra. He rubbed her nipple in time with Draco's fingers in his mouth, and Blaise watched as her hand moved faster against Draco's cock still. With four of Draco's fingers in his mouth, Blaise couldn't manage a smirk as well as usual, but he did manage an odd grin. As he moved against Ginny's breast firmer and faster, she stroked Draco's cock faster as well. Being the caring and sympathetic boyfriend that he was, Blaise started rubbing her nipple faster, her breath coming in short gasps as she pressed up against his thumb eagerly. Blaise hollowed his cheeks around Draco's fingers when he knew that he was close, and Draco came with a heavy groan, spurting over her hand and his shirt. Ginny let go of him when he was spent, calmly cleaning her hand with one of their napkins. Draco slumped onto the table, his head resting in the crook of his arm.

"Well, that was certainly more enjoyable than I expected," Ginny murmured, almost to herself.

"You haven't come yet," Draco said, breathing heavily.

"I know. I'd prefer not to test the silencing spells on the booth just yet," she said simply.

"Most people just like to watch us and get themselves off," Blaise said, belatedly realising that he was still caressing her breast. She didn't seem inclined to stop him though, so Blaise just continued, his hands warm on her flushed skin.

"Good for them. I prefer a more hands-on approach to my pleasure," Ginny said, smirking.

"I'll say," Draco mumbled.

"Mmm. Thank you, Blaise, that's enough for now," she added, taking his hand out of her bra.

They both watched as Ginny rebuttoned her shirt calmly, then made her way back over to her robe, taking out a small mirror to fix up her ruined lipstick.

"I'll be back in a fortnight, and every fortnight thereafter. If you please me and do exactly as I say, I'll let both of you fuck me on our sixth meeting."

"What if we want to meet you outside of business hours?" Blaise asked.

"Talking is free," Ginny quipped, putting her lipstick away and smirking over at them. "See you in a fortnight, gentlemen."

Five Galleons were left in front of each of them - two more than the required payment - but they didn't protest, and simply watched Ginny as she made her way over to the secure Floo system again. She left a Galleon tip for Madam Puddifoot in the jar hovering by the fireplace, then left without even glancing in their direction.

"This is going to be a long two weeks," Draco muttered.

Blaise just nodded in agreement.

...

Ginny ended up at Neville and Seamus' house that night, telling them about her experience at Madam Puddifoot's. Neither one seemed surprised at her choice, and when she questioned them, Seamus just shrugged.

"They're good at followin' orders, and good enough actors that they seem to convince nearly everyone that sits with 'em that they're in love with 'em. Swear they've 'ad witches and wizards actually propose to 'em before."

"Have you sat at their table before?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Nah; Nev got nervous when he saw 'em, and I wasn't 'bout to put him through that," Seamus said, pulling Neville across for a kiss.

"Please, you looked ready to hex one of them if they said something to us; I didn't want us getting kicked out of Madam Puddifoot's of all places," Neville snorted.

"Hmm. Do you know anything about them outside of Madam Puddifoot's?" Ginny asked.

"Just that their names were dragged through the mud after The Final Battle; Malfoy lost nearly all of his parents' wealth, and Zabini lost at least half of his, if not more. He probably wouldn't have to do this to the same extent that Malfoy does in order to live, but Zabini's loyal and, if the rumours are to be believed, very possessive about his relationship with Malfoy."

"So he doesn't like sharing?"

"Not many Slytherins are known as the sharin' 'n carin' type, Gin," Seamus pointed out.

"I thought we all agreed not to stereotype people because of their Hogwarts houses?" Ginny replied firmly.

"It's still true," Seamus muttered.

"So you'd be open to sharing Neville with any witch or wizard that had the money?"

"No, 'course not," he replied hotly, then went red when he realised he'd just helped Ginny make her point. "Right, shuttin' up now."

Neville chuckled and pressed a kiss to Seamus' neck. "Don't worry, Irish, I know that if I had to sell myself at Madam Puddifoot's for money, you'd be right there in the booth with me."

"I'd hex whoever tried sittin' at the table, more like," Seamus snorted. "Don't want your mouth or your anything near anyone else. 'cept maybe Gin, if she wanted."

"You're sweet, Seamus, but I'll stick with Draco and Blaise for now. I think I'll enjoy this game."

Neville rolled his eyes at her. "Do they know it's a game?"

"I set out the terms very plainly, but I may have forgone informing them of the game aspect. It makes it more fun for me that way."

"Don't have so much fun you get hurt in the process," Neville said.

"I never do, don't worry about that," Ginny said with a wicked smile. "Now, I'd best be getting home; the Floo's meant to be fixed by the end of the day, and I want to test it. I'm hoping the journalists have gotten bored enough to stop camping on my front lawn," she muttered.

"Feel free to Floo us if you need, Gin," Seamus offered, standing to offer her her robe.

"It's all right; I've got to do some grocery shopping at Diagon Alley," Ginny said as she slipped her robe on.

"You said you were getting your house elf to get groceries!" Neville exclaimed, Ginny laughing in response.

"Calm down, dearest Neville. I'm going with Beeves to help with the grocery shopping."

"You're going to drive me into an early grave, Ginny," Neville groaned, leaning against Seamus' shoulder.

"Never. Who else would I bitch to?" Ginny replied, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and then Seamus' before Apparating to her home.

Thanks to her wards, it was a tighter squeeze than most, but on arriving home to find a wizard Splinched in her roof, Ginny was grateful for them. She contemplated leaving the poor bastard to his own fate, but the journalists outside had already called for St. Mungo's. Ginny firecalled Seamus immediately, wanting her lawyer present if anyone tried to accuse her of doing this, and went outside to meet him at her gate where the journalists were already waiting, cameras and Quick Note Quills at the ready.

...

"So, I read that you hexed a journalist so hard he Splinched himself in your roof," a voice said nearby, as Ginny was trying to decide between cantaloupes and watermelon.

She didn't even bother glancing over at Draco. "One of each, Beeves. A fruit salad would be nice after dinner. Remind me to get grapes."

"Yes, Miss," Beeves squeaked, taking the ripest of each fruit and placing them in his basket.

"Of course, believing everything you read leads to very conflicting information. According to The Quibbler, the man attempted to Apparate into your house while you were out, and managed to Splinch himself in your roof because of your wards," Draco said with a smirk, standing beside her and looking at the selection of bananas.

"Either way, someone got Splinched in my roof, cost me an arm and leg worth of repairs, and is threatening to sue me for medical bills. Did you ever have to deal with this?" Ginny muttered.

"Not at all; Mother dealt with all of that nasty stuff. The journalists were too scared of her to do something as blatantly stupid as try to Apparate into our house. More than once, at least," Draco added with a snicker.

"Mm-hmm. Where's your better half?" Ginny asked, moving along the aisle to the tomatoes.

"Miss, the grapes," Beeves reminded her as she passed the selection.

"Thank you, Beeves," she said, stopping short at the green grapes and picking out a bunch for him to put in the basket.

"Blaise thought it prudent that we both weren't seen around you after what happened; people still think we're hit wizards for hire, and if that bloke dies in the next year, we'll be blamed."

"If anyone saw you fight in the Final Battle, they'd know you weren't hit wizards," Ginny replied with a smirk.

Draco looked taken aback at her comment, then he snickered. "Yeah, my aim was pretty bad; a bit difficult to kill people when you know you're fighting on the wrong side."

"Doesn't make it any easier when you are on the right side," Ginny pointed out. "Now, is that enough small talk, or do we need to keep going before you tell me why you're here?"

"Why, Miss Weasley, what on earth would make you think I'm here for anything other than food?" Draco asked, popping a grape into his mouth with a grin.

Ginny just raised an eyebrow at him and turned back to the selection of tomatoes.

"Blaise and I would like to invite you over for supper and a chat. Tea, biscuits, talking about sex, that sort of thing. We'd like to know what we're getting in to."

"If you play your cards right, the only thing you'll be getting into is my robes," Ginny said with a smirk.

"If we're playing cards, then we'd like to know what kind of game we're playing first. Can't test the rules if we don't know them," Draco said.

"What makes you think it's a game?" Ginny asked curiously.

Draco moved up beside Ginny, slipping a scrap of parchment into her robe pocket. "It's always a game, Ginevra."

Beeves pointedly didn't say anything when he walked away, and Ginny shook her head.

"I think I'll skip the tomatoes this week, Beeves."

"Yes, Miss."

...

The scrap of parchment held an address, a date, and a time. She was curious about the place, seeing that it was in Wiltshire. It wasn't Malfoy Manor, she knew it had been sold after the war to help pay for the bail set by the Minister to free both Draco and his mother from Azkaban. Ginny thought that Harry might've been the one to buy it, honestly. It was such a whirlwind time that she couldn't remember many events in the aftermath of the war clearly. It certainly frustrated reporters and journalists who expected her to have a perfect recall memory. Never mind; those that had tried to force her to say certain things about the Final Battle, about Harry, had all met the sharp end of her wand, and her sharper tongue. Ginny did remember that Malfoy Manor was now set up as a children's orphanage, for those left without parents, guardians, or relatives after the war. Perhaps Hermione had bought it, to help erase the memories she'd experienced there? Ginny would have to ask at next month's Weasley dinner.

She decided to go on the date and time specified, three days from now and late at night. Ever since the Splinching incident, the reporters seemed to have backed down, and weren't even trying to take photos over her wall. Beeves even said that a few had packed up and left. Ginny just hoped that they were all gone by the end of the week so she could reset her bloody wards. She was especially glad that her boss at the Ministry's Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was a kind-hearted wizard who didn't mind letting her work from home. It wasn't difficult to convince him after she came home to find her home invaded and ransacked. The Ministry had started an inquiry into The Daily Prophet after that, with a large fine being issued to the imposing witch in question. Still, inquiries took a long time to be completed, and even longer for a result to come of it; Ginny didn't expect anything to be resolved for some time.

Ginny took a small comfort in the fact that she wasn't the only one being hounded like this. George hired Seamus' services every two weeks around the anniversary of the Final Battle so he could freely hex any witch or wizard that asked him about Fred (Rita Skeeter had been plagued with green and orange warts for two straight months). Charlie actually commissioned his work to hire a guard dragon on his property around the same time, and Bill and Fleur had paid some ridiculously expensive French wizard to be their Secret Keeper so no one outside of family and close friends could find or visit them. Percy usually bored the reporters silly, working his own angle and answering their invasive questions by answering with long and rolling statements about the work the Ministry was doing, and no one seemed to bother him anymore. Ginny honestly wished she'd thought of that tactic herself. Ron couldn't escape the reporters, being one third of the Golden Trio, and usually went about his business with the strongest Glamours the Ministry had to offer, face-altering charms that Hermione applied in the morning, or in extreme cases, his own Invisibility Cloak. (He was still petitioning the Ministry to let him use a Polyjuice Potion just to get his bloody groceries in peace, but they refused, even for Ron Weasley. Ginny's positive that Hermione's making the potion for Ron anyway.) Her parents had gone so far as to make the Burrow Unplottable just to have some peace in their retirement. Harry had the opportunity to hole himself away in Grimmauld Place out in Muggle London, and either Flooed or Apparated directly to a friend's home, often using his Invisibility Cloak while in the wizarding world.

His absence from the wizarding world was the main reason for the reporters and journalists' desperation to get a story from the Weasleys. His engagement was only known because Harry told Luna in an exclusive interview for The Quibbler, and the others were all trying to catch up and get the latest scoop, hoping someone would slip up and tell them the juicier details that Harry's interview left out. Ginny hadn't even met his fiancée, and doubted she would until the wedding. Fuck, Ginny still wasn't sure if she even wanted to go, but supposed she'd have to make an appearance just so she wouldn't see headlines like 'Harry's ex still sour over breakup' or something equally ridiculous.

The day of Draco and Blaise's invitation arrived, and Ginny went downstairs to find Beeves waiting by the dining table with the day's duties to be listed. When the list was completed, he announced that she had received an owl from Messrs. Longbottom and Finnigan, placing the letter by her plate before leaving Ginny to her breakfast. Neville and Seamus were inviting her to a private party on Saturday, adding a note at the bottom that they'd invited Katie Bell, Marcus Flint, and Oliver Wood as well. If the last private party she'd attended at their home was anything to go by, Ginny expected to completely sleep through Sunday, and possibly half of Monday. If the reporters caught wind of the party, she'd probably be on the front page of The Daily Prophet until Harry's damn wedding.

Ginny Apparated to the closest Apparation centre in Wiltshire, following the directions on her handheld map parchment (water-proof, George promised) to get to the address Draco had given her. The small one-storey house wasn't much, aged as it was, and some parts looked like they'd been recycled from scraps that even her mother would have avoided for the Burrow. Still, Ginny hadn't expected anything grand, and knocked on the door firmly. She was grateful for the warming charms sewn into her robes, especially at this time of the night. The door opened, light and warmth filtering out of the house, and Blaise grinned at her broadly, ushering her inside.

"Weren't sure if you were coming," Blaise admitted, taking her coat and hanging it by the door.

"I was curious about the address," Ginny replied honestly.

"Wanted to see what I've been reduced to?" Draco sneered from the lounge room doorway, obviously drunk.

"No, I just wanted to see where you live now."

"Please ignore Draco; we had a bad day at work," Blaise murmured, guiding Ginny through to the lounge room. "Just give me a minute to get him sober," he added, taking Draco's arm and pulling him away fiercely.

Ginny could hear low muttering, things like 'you sodding arse' and 'bloody drunk idiot', but dismissed it, simply moving to look look at the selection of books Draco and Blaise had instead. They returned a few minutes later, Draco looking more sober and slightly damp to boot.

"We ran out of sobering potions; had to do sober him up the Muggle way," Blaise said, smirking a bit.

"I was perfectly fine being drunk, you bastard," Draco muttered.

"I wasn't. You and I both know that it's a bad thing to do as a coping mechanism, especially with your predilection for addictive things," Blaise replied sternly.

"You're addictive, does that count?" Draco asked, battering his eyelashes up at Blaise.

"Don't try to charm your way out of this, you little ferret. Apologise to our guest. You'll be apologising to me later," Blaise added, mouth set in a firm line.

"I sincerely apologise for my behaviour, rude words, and drunken state when you arrived, Ginevra. I hope that it will not happen again, nor reflect your opinion of me," Draco said.

"Once more, with feeling," Ginny said, smirking a little as Blaise snorted.

"Ugh, fine. I hate that you can see past that, you know?" Draco muttered. "I am sorry for being an arse, and I'll try not to be drunk next time you see me," he said, a little sourly.

"Good. Now, I was promised tea, biscuits, and a conversation about sex. I don't see any reason to delay," Ginny said, looking between them.

"Fuck, Dray! You actually said that bit about the sex in public? What in Merlin's name is wrong with you?" Blaise asked with a groan.

"The sex? What are you, twelve? So what? I mentioned sex. The world's still spinning, no little old witches keeled over in shock. I also stole a grape from the store, if you want something else to be aghast about."

"Utterly insufferable. I don't know why I love you," Blaise muttered, getting up to put the kettle on and get a plate of biscuits.

"Because I'm irresistible, and no one else would put up with your grumpy arse," Draco called over his shoulder.

"You're both certainly more relaxed here than at work," Ginny said when Blaise returned, taking a chocolate biscuit when the plate was offered.

"Have you ever known anyone to be relaxed at work?" Blaise countered, smirking.

"I suppose not," Ginny replied with a brief nod.

The kettle whistled loudly as it finished boiling, Draco leaving to make up a pot of tea. He returned with a tray, teapot, and three mugs. They were all silent as the tea was poured, and Ginny waited until they'd both had a sip of their hot drinks before bringing up the conversation again.

"You certainly like to be in control, don't you?" Blaise murmured, biting into his biscuit.

"Yes. I like to have control so I can know what's going to happen; I'm not fond of surprises anymore," Ginny replied, shrugging.

"Dominatrix?" Draco asked curiously.

"I've never felt a need to label it. I tend to think of sex as a game."

"First to orgasm wins?" Draco asked with a grin.

"No, it's not about the orgasm, though that's certainly part of it. It's about the way I can elicit responses from my lover - or lovers, as the case may be. Neville and Seamus were my first, and were extremely generous with experimenting and playing my games. They would probably still be with me if we hadn't all realised that they were better off together," Ginny admitted. "It was a different story with Harry; he didn't like to be as adventurous as I wanted to be in the bedroom, and sad as it is to admit it, it was the beginning of the end of our relationship. I've been with a few others here and there, but nothing significant, and certainly nothing I've had to pay for before."

"It's a job, one that I'm actually good at, if I shut my mouth," Draco added, Blaise shaking his head with a snort, "And I don't give a fuck that I'm getting paid for it, no matter who says what."

"Of course not. Just who on earth sat at your table?" Ginny asked, curiosity piqued.

"Goyle; bastard thinks he's better than me because he still has his Manor or some such bull. We kicked him out of the shop, and Madam Puddifoot's ensured he won't be allowed back, but he's still a wanker for suggesting that I'm a lesser being because I can be paid for sex."

"Just wait until your mother hears about this; she'll make sure Goyle's grandchildren are feeling the repercussions of that statement," Blaise snickered.

"There's a reason I only ever threatened Potter with my father, you know. My father would make sure Potter suffered politically or financially; my mother would make sure that Potter suffered indefinitely for a slight against me. She can be somewhat protective, even more so now that I'm poor and don't have a house elf to look after me."

"Trust me, having a house elf doesn't lessen a mother's protectiveness," Ginny replied with a laugh.

"I'm surprised you have one, what with S.P.E.W. and your mother's self-sufficiency," Blaise commented.

"I adhere to all of the house-elf requirements set out by Hermione and modified by Beeves himself, and I am not my mother."

"I'll say," Draco said, smirking.

Blaise rolled his eyes at his lover and had another sip of his tea. "Now, as you like to be in control, we're happy to do things a certain way if you would prefer it. Underwear and makeup are negotiable, collars and tying us up can be discussed, blindfolds are fine for me but not Draco, and as you know, we're both very good at following instructions. We will not accept any potions or do any spells, fire is something we'd both like to avoid, and whipping is completely a no-go area for both of us."

"Not a problem; whipping's never held much interest to me after the Carrows' punishments at Hogwarts," Ginny replied with a nod of understanding. She sipped her tea, thinking of her own likes and dislikes. "I'd like you to both be open and prepared next time, use whatever you're comfortable with. If you don't have something, let me know, as I'm willing to buy it to enhance my own pleasure. If you will not accept it as a gift, then think of it as an extra payment for your services. Do you have any preferences for topping and bottoming?"

"We're personally versatile in that area, though most customers prefer to see Blaise top," Draco supplied.

"Good for them," Ginny said, smirking. "I'm more interested in both of your preferences than anyone else's," she added, a bit more gently, and Draco nodded.

"Any clothing preferences? I think we still have a suit each," Blaise said, grinning.

"Hmm, perhaps another time. Next time, just wear whatever you're most comfortable in; you won't be wearing it for long. Do you require extra payment for anything specific?"

"Depends on what you're asking," Draco said with a shrug; "Madam Puddifoot's list of services is fairly comprehensive, and we generally use that as a guide if we have to do anything extra."

"If I asked you attend a private party with me this weekend?" Ginny asked.

"As the entertainment?" Blaise asked, voice dull and eyes sharp.

"No, as my dates. Seamus and Neville are hosting the party, and I'd rather not be there on my own."

"How long do we have to think about it?" Draco asked.

"Until Thursday. If you'd prefer, I can pay a lump sum to ensure your presence, and you can add to it after you've attended the party. I will say that Seamus and Neville are generous hosts, and you'd be likely to be return home with more food and drink than you can consume," Ginny added with a laugh.

"You haven't seen Draco eat; he looks like a beanpole, but he can put food away like nobody's business," Blaise snickered.

"You can talk, Mr. Sweet Tooth. He's eaten the dessert off my plate before," Draco muttered.

"You kept saying how full you were!" Blaise exclaimed.

"There's always room for dessert!" Draco retorted hotly.

Ginny laughed until her stomach hurt, but didn't dare tell the two wizards that she'd heard a very similar conversation between Ron and Hermione before.

She left an hour later, the rest of their preferences discussed and set out for their next meeting, with Draco and Blaise promising to contact her by Thursday with their response about the party.

On Wednesday night Beeves handed Ginny a letter that simply said 'We'll be there'. She grinned and firecalled Neville and Seamus to let them know to expect another two guests. Neither Neville nor Seamus seemed surprised, and just reassured Ginny that they were redoing their wards on Friday to make sure there would be no surprise visitors.

...

Ginny checked her lipstick, ignoring her sulking mirror (it hated when she stated how good she looked before it could), and adjusted her robe slightly before heading out to the fireplace. The Ministry had fixed her Floo after the debacle with the Splinched reporter, realising that her request as Susan Bones wasn't correct. There had been a few annoyed glares from the Ministry workers, as if she was the reason they were in trouble for not processing the simple request sooner.

Flooing to Neville and Seamus' home didn't take long, even though she had to unlock their private grate with the correct sequence of words and wand movements, and when Ginny stepped out, she was greeted by both wizards enthusiastically.

"How much have you two had to drink? You only just saw me last week," Ginny commented with a grin.

"Not even 'alf a bottle 'tween us!" Seamus said indignantly.

"Katie and Oliver have spent the last ten minutes eyeing each other off from across the room; we're placing bets on how long it'll take them to crack after Flint arrives," Neville said with a snicker.

"Hmm, what are the bets so far?" Ginny asked.

"I've got three minutes; Irish reckons a minute and a half."

"Oh, they're not drunk enough to be that quick about it, surely? I'll bet ten minutes," Ginny said as the fireplace lit up green behind her.

Draco stepped out, brushing his robes off quickly and muttering about how the smell of soot never seemed to leave his clothes. The fireplace lit up a brilliant green again, Blaise stepping out calmly, brushing the small specks of soot from his robes.

"A Scourgify Charm helps with the soot, and I know there's a specific charm to get rid of the smell, but I can't remember the incantation," Ginny admitted with a slight frown. "I'll ask my mother and let you know," she added.

"Speaking of mothers," Blaise replied, nudging Draco, who sighed heavily.

"My mother would like to invite you to lunch in order to help rid you of the journalists that are fouling up your garden. Her words, not mine."

"No, his would be far more explicit," Blaise quipped, grinning.

"That's kind of her; I'd appreciate the help since some of them are being ridiculously stubborn. If you could ask your mother to owl me tomorrow - or Monday, depending how hungover I am after tonight - and we'll go from there," Ginny said, smiling at Draco.

"You meeting my mother is not something I'm entirely happy about," Draco muttered. "I know how single-minded you are and free with your hexes; combine that with my mother's own nature... Bloody hell, I'm better off moving into the Muggle world."

Blaise snorted, slinging an arm around his shoulders. "Now, now, Dray, don't be so hasty. You'd honestly prefer being around Muggles every single day just because your mother is going to meet with Ginevra?" Then he smirked and winked at Ginny. "But then, your mother does have some pretty damning baby photos, so think about your answer carefully."

"I hate you sometimes, you know that?" Draco groaned, resting his head on Blaise's shoulder.

Blaise's response was cut off by the fireplace turning green, Marcus Flint stepping out.

"Malfoy? I didn't know you'd be here," Flint said with a frown.

"He's here with me, Flint, as is Blaise. Do you have a problem with that?"

"Ginny, uh hi... Uh, no. No problem," Flint stammered, blushing red.

Seamus covered his laugh with a cough, and both he and Neville led Flint through to where Katie and Oliver were already waiting.

"Any others attending this party?" Draco asked, tugging at his robe collar.

"I never know, and rarely remember, honestly. Luna might turn up Rolf, Daphne and Pansy could show, Hannah and Ernie, it all depends."

"Daphne Greengrass and Pansy Parkinson?" Draco asked, eyes wide.

"Yes, is there a problem?" Ginny asked.

"No, I just haven't seen them in a while," he said, shrugging.

"No problem, I'm sure you haven't seen Hannah and Ernie for even longer," Ginny said with a grin. "Now, if you'll follow me, I need to make sure I'm not losing my bet."

Draco and Blaise followed after Ginny, unsure as to the bet, but not wanting to miss out nonetheless. Ginny glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece, seeing that four minutes had already passed since Flint's arrival. Oliver was talking to Flint heatedly, something about a Quidditch match if the expression on his face was anything to go by. Katie was blatantly staring at both of them, her hand tight in Marcus'.

"What's the bet for?" Blaise asked softly, mouth by her ear.

"How long it'll take them to snap and start snogging," Ginny said, grinning back at him. "I've got five more minutes."

"With the way Wood goes on and on about Quidditch, you might want to make that five more hours," Draco snickered.

"If it was just him and Flint, perhaps, but you're forgetting that Katie's in this mix too; she's not known for her patience," Ginny replied.

She led Draco and Blaise to the couch, nodding for them to sit down before settling down between them comfortably, their bodies warm and firm on either side of her own.

"Did any of you want something to drink?" Neville offered, realising he'd been remiss in his duty as host.

"Butterbeer for me. I'll start off slower this time," Ginny added with a grin.

"No one thinks any less of you, Ginny. In fact, drinking a whole bottle of Firewhisky in under an hour without being sick is probably cause for respect," Neville added with a grin. "Draco? Blaise? What would you like?"

"Butterbeer," Blaise said.

"Scotch," Draco said at the same time.

"Dray," Blaise said warningly.

"Fine. Butterbeer," he muttered.

"All right; three Butterbeers," Neville said with a nod, leaving for the kitchen and returning a minute later with three bottles in hand.

"Two minutes left and I win," Ginny said, taking the offered bottle with a nod of thanks.

"What do you win?" Draco asked curiously, looking between Ginny and Neville.

"Foot rub, back massage, something small and simple usually. I'm far too cheap to bet money, and I'd hate myself for taking it from my friends so often," Ginny said with a smirk.

"I hate that you're right about that," Neville said, rolling his eyes. "But on the plus side, Irish has gotten really good at giving back massages."

"Your foot rubs aren't 'alf bad either, Nev," Seamus purred, kissing his neck. "Could do with one later if we're both sob'r 'nough," he added with a chuckle.

"Please, you're going to get so drunk you pass out where you fall, just like you have for the past five years. I'll give you a foot rub in the morning when you're alert enough to not kick me in the head."

"It was one time," Seamus whined.

"Once is enough, your reflexes hurt," Neville said, laughing when Seamus whined again. "Oh, bloody hell, Ginny," he groaned, seeing that Oliver, Flint, and Katie had succumbed and were snogging like they were the only ones in the room.

"Told you! Think that's ... what, four back massages you owe me now, Irish? And is it five or six foot rubs, Nev?"

"Seven, actually."

Ginny snickered at his expression. "Even better," she said, leaning back against Draco and Blaise.

"For you, maybe," he muttered.

The fireplace in the foyer lit up, green light filtering in to the lounge room.

"I'll get it," Neville called, heading out of the room.

"So, when did two start fuckin'?" Seamus asked, grinning at Draco and Blaise.

"Each other or for money?" Draco drawled, taking a long drink of his Butterbeer.

"Both," Seamus replied, unfazed.

"Each other, fifth year. For money, about eight months ago," Blaise said.

"Mind you, there were some Galleons exchanging hands in your seventh year, if I remember correctly," Pansy said, smirking from the doorway.

"That was only for the people we didn't like," Draco said.

"I seem to remember paying you," Pansy said, raising an eyebrow at him.

Draco smirked at her. "My statement still stands, dear."

"Arse," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Now, now, don't offend the favourite part of my lover," Blaise said, reaching over Ginny to pat Draco's leg.

"Really, that's your favourite part?" Ginny asked, smirking. "Surely there are nicer body parts?"

"Hmm, and what would you suggest?" Blaise asked.

Ginny took a moment to look over Draco from head to toe, and he smirked at her, waiting for an answer. Even Katie, Oliver, and Marcus had stopped making out long enough to watch them.

"Well, the obvious answer would be his hands, but I do love a good set of cheekbones. Oh, and I'm fairly sure that you're hiding a very nice six-pack of abs beneath those robes of yours. I like sinewy and built," Ginny murmured, low in Draco's ear as she flicked her tongue against him.

"Good thing I'm both then," he said, grinning as he shifted her body to angle towards his better, drawing her into a heated kiss.

Blaise smirked and joined in without hesitation, hands slipping into Ginny's shirt and cupping her breast eagerly.

"Great, you're all exhibitionists. How about we just get a photo in The Daily Prophet so the whole wizarding world can see you fucking?" Pansy snorted.

Ginny directed her middle finger towards Pansy, not pulling away from Draco or Blaise.

"How about something to drink, ladies? Or I can escort you back to the fireplace?" Neville asked pointedly; they all knew that the party was meant to be a respite from judgement and ridicule.

"We'll take the drink, Neville. Pansy's mouth is going to be busy until she learns to shut up," Daphne promised, pulling Pansy over to the other end of the room.

"I've had a shit day, Daph; I didn't want to come out tonight, you know that," Pansy grumbled.

"Doesn't mean you take it out on others, especially not Draco and Blaise for doing their damn jobs. Now sit down and make me forgive you," Daphne muttered, pushing Pansy down onto the armchair and sitting in her lap firmly.

Pansy sighed, running her fingers through Daphne's hair before kissing her firmly.

"Hey, don't worry about Pans; she'll apologise to Draco later and all will be forgiven," Blaise told Ginny quietly.

"Doesn't mean I won't be pissed off; you're both here as my guests," Ginny replied. "It's a party, you're meant to feel good."

"I definitely feel good now," Draco said with a smirk, nipping at her neck.

Blaise caressed Draco's cheek softly, kissing Ginny to redirect her attention.

"How 'bout somethin' stronger?" Seamus asked, interrupting them and offering a bottle of Firewhisky with a wink.

"Thanks, Irish," Ginny said, taking it before he could rescind the offer.

"Not a probl'm; Nev, get the scotch an' get on the couch," Seamus called, grinning.

"How come he gets scotch?" Draco muttered.

Ginny took a swill from the bottle before passing it to Draco, who drank eagerly.

"Dray, don't make me spank you," Blaise groaned.

"Hmm, I think I'd like to see that," Ginny said, looking between them with a grin.

"He loves it," Blaise said. "His arse gets so red, and he can hardly sit down the next day," he said, snatching the bottle from Draco's grip before he could have any more.

"Blaise, the wanker, makes sure to remind me every chance he gets. Takes a lot of self control not to just fuck him into the booth."

Ginny licked her lips briefly, kissing Blaise firmly before drawing Draco in to do the same.

"See, now isn't that better than the fake crap you pull at Puddifoot's?"

Draco shrugged. "It's easier to separate work from our personal lives with that fake crap, as you call it."

"And not everyone is as receptive to it as you are, Ginevra," Blaise added.

"All right, I can understand that. Do whatever you need to, just promise me not to do that to me again."

"Promise," Draco and Blaise chorused.

"Good. Now, give me that bottle, and let's see how long it takes for someone's shirt to come off," Ginny said with a snicker, taking the bottle back from Blaise.

"Bets on who or time?" Draco asked, looking at the others around them surreptitiously.

"Both," Ginny said decisively.

"What do we get if we win?" Blaise asked.

"Whatever you'd like, other than money," Ginny said, shrugging.

"And what do you get if you win?" Draco asked, fingers caressing the back of her palm gently.

"I think I'll decide once I've won the bet," Ginny said with a smirk. "Three minutes, Oliver."

"Two minutes, Seamus," Blaise said.

"One minute, Daphne," Draco said.

A minute later, Draco won, smirking as Daphne's shirt fell to the ground.

"What do you want, Draco?" Ginny asked.

"Want us to be able to fuck you sooner than our sixth meeting," Draco said. "What about next weekend instead?" he suggested.

Ginny tapped a finger against her lips, legs drawn up so that they were lying across Blaise's lap, her body curled up against Draco's chest.

"I'll be going to Madam Puddifoot's again this week, so if we meet on the weekend, it would technically be our fourth meeting. I suppose it's not too much of a stretch," she said with a grin. "Now, since we're meeting outside of business hours, I presume there's a significant rise in your fee?"

"Double."

"And if I wanted you in my home rather than yours?" Ginny queried.

"A house call charge of two Galleons would apply."

"Hmm; that's sixteen Galleons. I suppose asking for both of you at the same time would end up with an even number of twenty Galleons?"

"It wouldn't be declined," Blaise said carefully; they still had bills to pay after all.

"All right, next weekend then. Draco, hands on my breasts; Blaise, hands on my legs. No higher than the knees, or I'll take a Galleon off for each transgression."

Even when Pansy came over to apologise to Draco ten minutes later, Blaise's hands didn't wander higher than Ginny's knees once.

...

"Good morning, Miss Weasley. I am glad my son passed along my invitation," Narcissa said with a brief smile.

"If it gets the reporters off my lawn, I'll be glad for it too, Mrs. Malfoy," Ginny replied.

Narcissa smirked a little at her blunt tone and sipped at her tea. "I took the liberty of sending my personal house elf to your premises in order to scope out just who was still fouling your lovely garden. I have the necessary information here to get rid of each of them in what is, I hope, a short timeframe," she said, placing a scroll on the coffee table between them.

"You're just giving it to me?" Ginny asked suspiciously.

A house elf interrupted with an apology and low bow, informing Narcissa that lunch was served. They were both quiet as they followed the small creature down to the dining room, Ginny still holding the scroll in her hand.

"I'm not sure if you're aware, Miss Weasley, but I am well aware of the profession my son has undertaken in recent times. It is not the profession I would have chosen for him, nor wished for him, but it seems that beggars cannot be choosers, and Draco can be stubborn about certain aspects of his life. His job is one of them, and nothing I can say or do will sway him to see otherwise; trust me, I have tried."

Ginny frowned slightly, wondering just what Narcissa thought she could do.

"I am not going to ask you to do something ridiculous to get Draco and Blaise out of their job, that would not be fair to any of you. However, I am well aware of the amount of money the Weasley family is now in possession of, yourself included. I would normally never ask this, but I am Draco's mother first and foremost, and I hope you can understand what I am about to ask."

"You want me to give them more money in order to have them work less?" Ginny guessed, and an expression of relief flickered across Narcissa's face.

"Yes."

"In all honesty, Mrs. Malfoy, I do understand why you are asking this of me; I'm sure my mother would do the same if she were in your position. However, I always ensure to not only pay for the service I request, but also for ... performance and enthusiasm, you might say. I have utilised both Draco and Blaise's services twice now, and have paid them well over the necessary payment required for each of the services. I will pay them as much or as little as I think they deserve, and you would do well to remind yourself that I am not looking for an emotional investment or a relationship - I would do the exact same with any other witch or wizard whose services I required. I would also like to remind you that neither Draco nor Blaise are the kind of wizards who would like their mother to ask for money on their behalf, no matter how much it is needed, or thought it is needed."

Narcissa seemed much paler, two bright pink spots on her cheeks, and Ginny inhaled briefly, rolling the scroll between her fingers and thumb.

"I understand if you would like me to leave now, or if you would like me to leave the scroll here."

Narcissa watched Ginny for a moment longer, then shrugged in the most ladylike manner Ginny had ever seen. "I believe that I would enjoy your company, and hope that you would bring yourself to stay. The scroll is yours to do with what you will; I have no need for written secrets that I already have in my mind."

"Then, I thank you again for the scroll. I'm sure I'll be able to put its contents to good use."

Narcissa nodded. "I would certainly hope so. Now, please enjoy your lunch, and thank you for keeping an old woman company."

Ginny raised an eyebrow slightly at that - Narcissa certainly didn't seem old enough to refer to herself as such - but nodded anyway.

...

"Welcome back, Miss," Madam Puddifoot said with a warm smile.

"Hello, Mrs. Puddifoot," Ginny said, returning her smile as she removed her robe and placed it over her arm.

"Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Zabini are currently occupied; would you like to wait, or would you prefer to see my other employees?" Madam Puddifoot offered.

Ginny looked around the room for a moment, seeing that nearly every table had a red-lit candle above it. She'd arrived later than intended, and it seemed that this was a busy time for Madam Puddifoot's. There was a lone green candle, and Ginny nodded towards it.

"I'll wait with another employee; if you could let me know when they're available?"

"Of course; enjoy your stay."

Ginny nodded her thanks and headed over to the lone green-lit table. She slipped into the booth and smiled at the witch across from her.

"Hello there. What can I do for you?" the witch asked, smiling through bright red lips.

"Some conversation would be pleasant for now; how has your day been?" Ginny asked.

"A bit busy, but not all bad. Would you like to talk about anything in particular?"

"Not really, is there anything that you're passionate about?"

"Quidditch," she replied, grinning now. "My favourite team's the Holyhead Harpies, and if I was five years younger, I'd've been at their tryouts earlier this year."

"Why do you have to be five years younger? There's no cutoff age for Quidditch, so long as you can fly and play," Ginny said.

"Oh, I know that; Gwendolyn Morgan played well into her sixties," the witch said with a shrug. "But it was easier for me to get out of bed five years ago than it is today."

"Okay, that's understandable," Ginny said, smiling briefly. "Is there anything you'd like to do? I'm happy to order something if you'd like to eat or drink," she added.

The witch seemed somewhat surprised at Ginny's offer, but gave a quick nod. "I wouldn't say no to a cup of tea and some biscuits, in that case."

Ginny let a a string of streamers fly out of her wand to signal for Madam Puddifoot, who arrived promptly with a smile and menu.

"A pot of tea, a plate of biscuits, and two cups, please."

"Of course, Miss," Madam Puddifoot said, taking the menu once more and leaving.

"Do I get to know your name, or do I have to call you Miss as Madam Puddifoot does?"

"Ginny; yours?"

"Henrietta. Nice to meet you, Ginny."

"Likewise, Henrietta. Now, which position would you play for the Harpies?" Ginny asked with a grin.

...

Draco nudged Blaise as they neared Henrietta's table, seeing Ginny seated there, laughing at something the other witch had said. Blaise smirked, nudging him in return, then knocked on the plank of wood separating the booths.

"Hello, ladies. Do you mind if we join you?" he asked smoothly.

"Oh, I don't know about that. Henrietta and I are having a lovely time, and I haven't even had a chance to kiss her yet," Ginny said, grinning.

"That's a shame; Henrietta's fantastic at snogging," Draco said with a wink.

"Stop it, both of you; you'll make me blush," Henrietta said.

"In that case, do you mind if we still Ginevra away from you? We wouldn't want you to blush and temper with your lovely complexion," Blaise murmured.

"Idiot," Henrietta said fondly.

Ginny slid out of the booth and moved around to hug and kiss Henrietta firmly, leaving four Galleons on the table for her.

"I hope you'll reconsider the Harpies; I think you'd be a fantastic Chaser," Ginny said with a grin, her lips smeared with Henrietta's lipstick.

"You think about your job too; there's no joy in doing all the work for someone else to take the credit," Henrietta replied, patting her hand gently.

"I will; thank you, Henrietta."

"Sounds like you two had a good chat," Draco said, raising an eyebrow as they headed back to his and Blaise's usual booth.

"We did; it's nice to talk to a witch who's not trying to get a news-worthy story out of me," she replied with a smile. "It can be difficult to get hold of Luna and Hermione sometimes; we're all so busy with our lives."

"I presume that's why you're here so late in the evening?" Blaise asked. "Any later and it would be a regular teashop for the Hogwarts Hogsmeade weekend," he teased.

"Well, that would certainly make it interesting; I'm sure those horny little witches and wizards would learn a thing or two from the things I've got planned for you this evening," Ginny said, smirking.

"We've been prepared all day, you know. You're very lucky we didn't have any male clients today, or it would have been a wasted effort," Draco said.

"What he means is that we declined all of the wizards that sat at our booth today because we didn't want someone else inside of us before you," Blaise said.

"That's sweet of you... Draco, you're fucking Blaise while he fucks me," Ginny instructed. "And, Draco? Leave the plug in."

"Yes, Ginevra," he said, licking his lips as he unbuckled his trousers and settled back on the padded booth.

"Are we testing the silencing charms today then?" Blaise asked with a grin, unbuckling his belt and trousers, leaning over the table so Draco could remove the plug (and do it torturously slow, the bastard).

"Yes, definitely. Now, now, not so hasty. Draco, you need to be thoroughly lubricated; Blaise, take care of that for him?" Ginny asked, watching them as she unbuttoned her shirt and slipped a hand under her skirt.

"Of course, Ginevra," Blaise said, smirking at Draco and fully intending on getting his revenge.

Blaise made a show of getting the small bowl of lubricant out, slicking his hand one finger at a time before moving on to his palm itself. Draco muttered under his breath, the obscene words turning to a sharp gasp of air as Blaise stroked his cock firmly.

"What was that, Draco?" Blaise inquired, smirking again.

"Fuck, you... fuck," Draco groaned, cock twitching in Blaise's hand.

"A little faster, Blaise, but don't let him come yet. How's it feel with that plug, Draco?" Ginny asked, fingers slipping between her wet folds and stroking lightly.

"Good, tight. Driving me insane," Draco admitted, hips jerking up into Blaise's slick grip and jolting the plug in his arse at the same time. "Fuck."

"If you're willing, I brought my own strap-on for afterwards. Think you'd be able to take a cock after you've fucked Blaise?" Ginny asked, thumb circling her clit firmly.

"I'll take anything you're willing to pay for," Draco said, words huskier than he intended.

"By that, he means, fuck yes, I want you to fuck me so fucking bad," Blaise moaned out, hand working faster and twisting slightly to make Draco cry out.

"Interesting translation. I think you're both a little desperate this evening. Is it me, the fact that I have a strap-on, or the plugs?" Ginny asked, resting her chin in her free hand, slowly rubbing her breast against her arm.

"All of it," Draco replied immediately.

"Definitely," Blaise added with a nod. He slipped his slicked hand lower, thumb caressing against Draco's balls and making him groan loudly, back arching up off the seat.

"Think he's ready now, Blaise?" Ginny asked, biting her lower lip.

"Think so, Ginevra."

"Good, and what about you? Stretched enough to take his cock? Hard enough to fuck me?" she added with a smirk.

"Yes, and fuck yes," Blaise groaned, hitching his hips up to rub his hard cock against Draco's thigh.

"Good. Sit on his cock, your back to his chest. We'll be sitting face to face. Draco, I want to kiss you while I'm being fucked by Blaise."

"Yes, Ginevra," he breathed out, pulling Blaise towards him.

Ginny made the table disappear so they'd have more room to manoeuvre, and slipped her hand out from her skirt as she watched Draco and Blaise arrange themselves as she'd instructed. They didn't take long at all, Blaise bottoming out on Draco's cock within minutes, both men groaning at the full feeling. Ginny waited until Blaise opened his eyes before taking off her shirt, both men watching her intently, and moved over to position herself above Blaise's hard cock.

"Keeping the skirt on, Ginevra?" Blaise asked, sounding breathless.

"Yes; you can both touch wherever you'd like. No bruises or prominent scratch marks in places that will be seen."

Draco bit Blaise's shoulder, squeezing Ginny's hips firmly as he winked at her.

"Mm, just like that," Ginny murmured, slowly easing herself down onto Blaise's cock.

His hands joined Draco's, both of them holding and helping her until she let out a soft content sigh.

"Thank you, gentlemen. Now, let's work this rhythm out, shall we?" Ginny asked with a smirk, pressing a chaste kiss to Blaise's mouth before kissing Draco in a far more luxurious manner, her breasts firm up against Blaise's chest as he moved his hands to splay across her back.

Draco began to move his hips slowly, the plug pressing up into his arse firmly. Blaise groaned over Ginny's shoulder, eyes closed as she rocked her hips down against his, Draco's cock thrust deep inside of him. He didn't know whether to press back or arch up, and attempted to do both with a small groan of need and want. Blaise finally worked out how to move back against Draco and up into Ginny in time with their own movements, getting similar sex-filled moans in reward.

Blaise bit his lip, forced to listen as Draco and Ginny started to kiss, the sound of their lips and tongues tangling next to his ear, and he couldn't hold back his moan, fingers digging into Ginny's sides firmly. She rubbed her body up against his, somehow managing to rise up on her knees as she continued to kiss Draco, before sinking back down on Blaise's cock. He bit back a strangled noise as she clenched around his cock, sliding his hands down to cup her arse and squeeze firmly.

"You're both trying to kill me," Blaise groaned, head buried against Ginny's shoulder as Draco thrust his hips five times in a quick succession.

"I'd hope it'd take more than this to kill you," Ginny quipped, smirking down at him, her hair falling around his face as she moved to kiss him.

"That might do it," he murmured, lips brushing against hers.

Ginny pulled away, grinning at him again. "Come on, Zabini; you've got more than this in you."

"Bit hard to prove that while I'm sandwiched between you two; can't think, let alone fuck properly."

"Hmm, that's disappointing. I suppose Draco and I will just have to do all the work then?" Ginny asked, looking over his shoulder to Draco. "Since your boyfriend's being a lazy bastard, I think we should punish him."

"By making him wear the plug instead?" Draco suggested, smirking.

"Oh no, that's all for you. I think I'd like to see how long it takes for him to start begging if I don't let him come."

"What? No, fuck, that's... Ginevra, please," Blaise begged, lifting his hips so his cock slid into her further.

"Not even a second. That's got to be some sort of record," Ginny murmured, eyes fluttering closed as Blaise throbbed inside of her.

He smirked on seeing her reaction, moving his hips again, driving deeper each time as best as he could. Ginny's words were soon replaced with moans and soft mewling noises, and Blaise clenched the seat below tightly as Draco started to move harder and faster up into him, a sure sign that he was close to his orgasm. He fucked up into Ginny harder still, letting go of the seat to drag her hips down towards him. There was no way he was letting Dray come before their client, even though Blaise doubted Ginny would mind. He was sweating by the time Ginny let out a scream, head thrown back as she lost herself to her orgasm, clenching around Blaise until it felt like a fucking vice was squeezed around him. Her release set off Draco's, and there was no way Blaise had that sort of control, being filled and being squeezed so tightly at the same time, his own orgasm accompanied with a heavy groan, one hand clenching Draco's firmly.

Ginny breathed heavily against Blaise's neck, tongue light as she licked at his salty skin. "Ready for round two?"

"Can I take the plug out now?" Draco asked with a small whine.

"How else am I going to fuck your pretty little arse?"

Blaise snickered while Draco gaped behind him, and lifted Ginny off his hips to place her on the seat beside them carefully. He stood up slowly, his arse throbbing with a pleasant ache, and Draco stopped gaping long enough to bite the curve of his arse firmly. Ginny laughed at Blaise's surprised expression and Draco's smug one before moving to get her strap-on out of her bag. Draco's smug look faltered, eyes wide at the sight of the thick black cock in her hands.

"Fuck me," he muttered.

"That's the idea," Ginny said with a wink.

...

The weekend arrived all too soon, and Ginny found that the most difficult task she had that day was getting her bloody house-elf to actually leave the house. It took a full hour of negotiation before Beeves agreed to go out for the day, swapping it for one of his required days of leave later in the month. After that was over, Ginny wondered if she should have just sent him on a long list of errands for the whole damn day, for all of the stress it had caused her.

Beeves' main argument had been a worry about the journalists that were still camped out on the front lawn, but Ginny still had the scroll from Narcissa, and was finally going to use it. Harry had announced his fiancée's pregnancy earlier in the week (Ginny had briefly wondered if that was the reason for their sudden engagement, but she actually didn't care enough to enquire), so the journalists had returned in full force. Thankfully, none of the bastards had attempted to Apparate inside of her home or access her Floo system again.

Armed with both scroll and wand, Ginny marched out of her front door for the first time in weeks, and straight out the gates to the lawn where various tents were set up.

"Ginny! Do you have a comment about Harry's engagement and impending pregnancy?" -- "What do you think about Harry's fiancée?" -- "Are you attending their wedding?" -- "How is George coping with Fred's death?"

Okay, that bastard deserved to be hexed, fuck the scroll, Ginny thought viciously, watching with a cruel smile as he was soon fighting off Bat Bogeys.

"Hex him again!"

Bloody vultures, Ginny thought to herself, unrolling the scroll carefully.

"Terrence Brown?"

A wizard stumbled forth, eyes wide in surprise and hope, obviously thinking that she'd selected him for an exclusive interview.

"Cayman Islands, November 1964," Ginny said, watching as a look of comprehension dawned on his face.

"W-what?" Terrence stammered, deathly pale.

"Would you like me to go into more detail?"

"Y-you can't kn-know about that!" he almost screamed.

"Then I suppose the name Morris Haskins means nothing to you?"

The bang of his Apparation startled everyone, the wizard gone in a second. Ginny's heart was hammering as she looked to the next name on the list.

"Augustus Westbourne."

"You think that thing's going to scare me, lady? You've got nothing on me - "

"Illegal flying of your magic carpet in the Arab desert; Aurors are still trying to apprehend you."

Bang! Gone.

"Herb Hamilton; altering Muggle maps to reveal and then hide the location of Atlantis."

Bang! Gone.

"Rita Skeeter - "

Bang! Gone. Rita didn't even wait long enough for her name to be completely revealed, which was probably a good thing considering the amount of dirt Narcissa had provided about her.

"Lucinda Windsor; decimation of the statue of Ulric the Oddball in The Daily Prophet foyer."

Bang! Gone.

"Dunston Greenhill -- Celeste Grove -- Merthyr Haughton." Bang! Gone. -- Bang! Gone. -- Bang! Gone.

Ginny didn't even have to list all of the names before the journalists realised that she would list the dirty details on every single one of them without remorse, and the remaining collective group finally chose to Apparate away. Ginny was left with a somewhat muddy lawn, a collection of tents and clothes that didn't belong to her, and an assortment of scrap parchment and quills littering her property. Sighing, she cast a Reducto spell on the various items to shrink them down, a reversing charm to repair the damage on her lawn, and an Accio to gather the quills, parchment and shrunken tents. Maybe she'd have a bonfire later, Ginny mused, heading back into her home. She left the gate open, daring anyone to come near it. (It was still spelled and charmed against intruders; Ginny wasn't stupid.)

Draco and Blaise were due to arrive in two hours, so Ginny threw the assortment of things in the corner to deal with later, going upstairs to get ready instead.

...

Despite the fact they weren't wearing shoes, Draco and Blaise had obviously put an effort into their outfits, both wearing their suits and looking as smart as Ginny had seen them in some time. Their clothes at Madam Puddifoot's weren't old or daggy by far, but were more prone to comfort and their ability to get out of them that much faster. The suits meant they were planning on taking their time, and Ginny wondered what they thought of her own outfit. She was wearing a suit too. Of sorts.

"Fucking hell, Blaise; I told you we should've just shown up in robes and nothing else," Draco groaned on seeing Ginny sitting on her couch, comfortable and completely naked.

"Fuck; aren't you cold?" Blaise asked, gaping.

"I'm in front of a fire and have numerous heating charms throughout the house," Ginny pointed out with a smirk.

Draco was hastily trying to get out of his suit jacket and pants at the same time. Blaise rolled his eyes and grabbed Draco's shoulders to still him.

"We planned this, remember, Dray?"

"Yeah, but naked... Fuck," Draco groaned, his head smacking Blaise's shoulder.

"Speaking of fucking, how's your arse?" Ginny asked, leaning forward and licking her lips.

"My poor arse has barely recovered from your brutality," Draco moaned, grabbing his arse and pouting.

"Please, you loved it. You've jerked off five times to that memory so far," Blaise snorted.

"How do you know that?" Ginny asked curiously, eyebrow raised.

"Pensieve. Draco likes to drag me in there for a replay of his favourite fucks while he sucks me and jerks himself off," Blaise said.

"Five times is good, I presume?"

"Better than good," Draco said, grinning broadly as he unbuttoned Blaise's jacket and shirt.

"It'd probably be more if we weren't coming here," Blaise added, unbuttoning the last of Draco's shirt and sliding his fingertips along his chest gently, goosebumps following.

"That's not a bad idea for the Pensieve, actually. I might have to get one for myself," Ginny mused, watching as they both removed their jackets and shirts.

"Blaise, fuck the routine and let's just fuck Ginevra instead," Draco groaned, moving to snog him.

"Yeah, all right," Blaise murmured, already starting to shuck his trousers off.

Draco grinned broadly, unzipping his trousers and shimmying out of them, leaving the material in a pile on the floor. Blaise rolled his eyes, picked up Draco's clothes and straightened them out, placing them with his on the armchair.

"Insufferable bastard, stop leaving your clothes everywhere; knowing you, they'd catch on fire," Blaise muttered.

"No, they won't. You always pick them up for me," Draco said with a smirk.

"I'm going to think of something that you'll actually consider a threat one day, and then I'm going to make you suffer."

"Lunch dates with your mothers?" Ginny suggested, laughing when Draco glowered at her.

"I want Draco to suffer, not me."

"Stop trying to think of ways to torture me, this is already bad enough!" Draco muttered.

Ginny looked at Blaise with a slight grin, and he smirked broadly in return.

"Another five minutes?" Ginny asked, crossing her arms under her breasts to lift them slightly, moving to cross her legs as well.

"Three should be enough," Blaise replied, failing to hide his amused smirk at Draco's frustrated expression.

"I hate you both," Draco groaned, flopping beside Ginny on the couch.

Blaise snorted in amusement, moving to sit on the other side of Ginny, watching Draco as he slid a hand along her thigh.

"Draco? Sit up and stay very still," Ginny said as she stood up, waiting until he followed her instruction before sitting in his lap, her legs falling open on either side of his. "Blaise?"

Blaise was kneeling in front of her before Ginny could even ask, and she gave him a firm nod, hooking a leg over his shoulder. Blaise moved in closer, kissing her stomach before making his way down to her wet pussy, licking firmly.

"Fuck," Draco hissed as Ginny gyrated her hips back against his hardening cock.

"Soon," Ginny promised with a hum, fingers threading into Blaise's hair as he continued to lick firm stripes between her folds.

Barely two minutes had passed before Draco was hitching his hips, trying to get some relief. Ginny's head lolled back against his shoulder, and she pressed her fingers to his jawline, moving his head to kiss him, sucking his tongue into her mouth. Holding onto Blaise's hand tightly, Ginny grabbed Draco's in her free hand, Apparating them all up to her bedroom. If it wasn't for the tugging sensation in his stomach at being Side-Apparated, Draco doubted he would have known they'd even left the living area. Ginny's bedroom was just as warm as the rest of the house, which was a small blessing in the cold weather. Ginny's Apparation skills were on point, as she'd managed to land them right in the middle of her large bed without an issue. He moved up on to his knees, pulling Ginny flush up against his body, his cock snug against her arse. On the other side of her, Blaise moved so that he was crowded up against the front of her body.

"Who do you want where, Ginevra?" Draco asked in her ear, biting at her earlobe.

"You fucking me, Blaise behind," she said, running her nails down Blaise's chest gently.

Draco and Blaise nodded to each other, moving around Ginny's body rather than move her. When they were positioned properly, Draco kissed her firmly, drawing out whimpers of need and lust and smothering them with his own mouth. A simple lubrication spell had both Blaise and Draco ready, and Blaise created patterns with his fingers as he worked his way down Ginny's back before slipping to her arse, teasing against her rim. She gasped, pressing back against his teasing fingers before reaching out to stroke Draco lightly.

"Any bets on how long you'll last between us before coming apart?" Draco asked, kissing her shoulders and breasts, hitching his hips up into her warm grip.

"Forty-five minutes."

"Hmm, I think Blaise and I can do better than that. We'll go with forty," Draco murmured.

"What do you want if you win?" Ginny asked, breathless as she opened her eyes to look at him scrutinisingly.

It was Blaise that answered, his breath warm against her ear. "You."

"Exclusively as a client?"

Draco shook his head. "We've saved enough to live within our means for a few years while we pursue other careers; Blaise and I are planning on retiring. We'd like to date you."

"And fuck you," Blaise added with a chuckle.

"Give me some time to think about it; it's surprisingly hard to think when I'm about to be fucked by both of you," Ginny murmured.

"Of course; take as long as you need," Draco replied, moving forward to slide his cock between her thighs.

Blaise murmured a word of warning, a slicked finger entering her slowly. Ginny bit her lip, her arse twitching around Blaise's finger, and waited to get used to the feeling. She shifted her hips when she felt ready, and Blaise started to move, getting her ready for another finger. Draco resumed his slow rocking motion between Ginny's legs, one hand holding her hip with the other slipped between them and teased at her clit. By the time Ginny was ready for another finger, she was trembling and sensitive from being teased so thoroughly. Draco hadn't relented on his constant rhythm between her legs and against her clit, and Blaise was caressing her breast in time with his finger sliding into her arse. It had been so long since she'd felt like this that Ginny almost felt like sobbing against Draco's shoulder in the pure bliss of it all. Blaise's second finger stretched her enough to make her feel it, but he didn't pause for long, starting to move and scissor his fingers inside of her.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck; Draco, fuck me right fucking now. Blaise, hurry the fuck up," Ginny groaned, gripping Draco's hips, nails digging into his skin as she tried to move him herself.

Draco just chuckled, the bastard, and moved torturously slow from between her thighs. Blaise stilled as Draco guided his cock towards Ginny's pussy, sliding in her wet warmth easily and with a soft groan.

"Fuck, Ginevra. Need to fuck you. Let me fuck you?" Draco asked, lips against the curve of her shoulder.

"Yes; now," she moaned, jerking her hips forward, trying to keep Blaise's fingers inside of her at the same time.

Blaise added a third finger, working with fast and firm thrusts before declaring that she was ready. He barely waited for Ginny to nod in response before grabbing her hips and sliding his cock into her arse. Ginny went still between them, fingers clenched in Draco's shoulder and her other one holding Blaise's tight against her hip. Ginny suddenly doubted that she would even be able to last thirty minutes, let alone forty.

Draco and Blaise certainly worked to prove her sudden doubt correct, working her body in a rhythm so she was always full, always being touched, always had at least one pair of lips on her body in some way. Ginny lost herself to the sensation of it all, the fingers that touched her, the heat coiling in her stomach and unfurling throughout her body, the cocks that filled her, the lips that pressed against her, the teeth and tongues, the sound of their bodies, the sweat and musky scent of sex that filled the air. She was nearing her orgasm when Ginny vaguely realised that she had no idea who was caressing and tugging at her nipples, nor whose fingers were stroking up against her clit. She just knew that she needed more, and begged for as much, loudly and shamelessly. Draco and Blaise seemingly ignored her demands and pleas.

Ginny was on the verge of letting out a scream of pure frustration and absolute pleasure when she heard both wizards chuckle against her skin, both thrusting harder and touching with more intent, working to bring her over the edge. And fucking bloody hell, did they succeed. She screamed, head thrown back as she writhed between their bodies, her pussy and arse clenching around both of their cocks, and Ginny belatedly realised that she could feel them coming inside of her as well. She collapsed between them, exhausted and elated at the same time, breathing laboriously as her body fluttered and trembled in the aftermath of her intense orgasm.

Blaise kissed at her neck and shoulder as Draco grabbled around for his wand, performing the necessary cleaning spells on each of them. Ginny licked her lips, tasting sweat and salt on her tongue, and borrowed Draco's wand to conjure a blanket for them. The wand didn't backfire, thankfully, but the blanket was somewhat crooked. The two wizards didn't seem to mind, both arranging their bodies so that Ginny was tucked between them, arms linked as they dozed off into a heavy sleep.

...

Harry's ex a no-show for his wedding!

Harry Potter and Astoria Greengrass had their wedding this weekend. Reporters were not allowed inside the premises, but have been informed that Harry's ex, Ginny Weasley, did not attend. A jilted ex-lover? An act of passive-aggressive revenge? Or the act of a petty thief who has yet to return several items belonging to several reporters from The Daily Prophet that were misplaced earlier in the year?

"Bloody hell; Beeves, cancel my subscription for this piece of garbage as soon as possible. I don't know why I didn't do it when those bastards started camping on my lawn," Ginny muttered, throwing the issue of The Daily Prophet towards the fireplace.

It landed with a thud, crackling and curling in the flames immediately, and Ginny didn't bother to watch as the words burnt away.

"Of course, Miss," Beeves said with a quick bow, offering her a copy of The Quibbler instead.

Pictures of Harry and Astoria dancing their first dance as a married couple were on the front page. Ginny grinned at the sight of Harry obviously counting his steps so he wouldn't step on his wife's toes.

"What's got you looking so happy, love?" Blaise asked with a yawn, running a hand through his wet hair as he came into the dining room with Draco beside him, looking just as wet and debauched.

"Harry's inability to dance without counting every step," Ginny said with a shrug.

"Dancing's difficult for people with two left feet and only half a brain," Draco snickered.

"Hmm, I hope you're not planning on making me dance at your retirement party this afternoon?" Ginny asked, flipping through the articles to get to the daily quizzes.

"I happen to like my feet the size they are," Blaise drawled, pressing a kiss to Ginny's cheek as he sat beside her and took up a piece of toast.

"So do I," she replied absent-mindedly, nudging the chair beside her for Draco to sit down too. "What's a four-letter word for circle?"

"Ring," Draco replied as he sat on the offered chair, reaching over Ginny to get the pot of tea.

"Lord of the - ... Rings? What on Earth was Luna thinking? All of these answers are ring or some variation of it," Ginny muttered.

"I think the next page might answer that question, Gin," Blaise said with a grin.

Luna Lovegood announces her engagement to Rolf Scamander. Everyone invited!

"Oh, bloody hell. Who isn't getting married?" Ginny muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Neville and Seamus; Katie, Oliver, and Flint; Charlie," Blaise listed.

"I'm sure there's a large number of the wizarding population not getting married, in fact," Draco added.

"All right, smart arses. Upstairs, get dressed, and we're going to plan a lunch with all of our mothers for next week as your punishment."

Draco and Blaise both groaned, but finished their breakfast and headed upstairs with Ginny anyway.

...

Madam Puddifoot knew that sex sold more than tea, but she still allowed her shop to be closed for the evening to celebrate the retirement of her two most requested employees. She invited their friends, both other employees as well as outside of the business, and smirked when she saw the reaction from Pansy and Daphne, knowing she'd likely have two new customers by the end of the month.

When Draco and Blaise arrived with Ginny half an hour later, Madam Puddifoot noticed that all three were wearing simple silver bands on their left hands.

Well now, that was certainly a pleasant surprise.

...

The end.

Thanks for reading!