Disclaimer: Neither I nor this story have any affiliation with JK Rowling, Warner Brothers, or any other shareholder in the Harry Potter phenomenon.

Chapter I

WANTED

Young wizard seeking housewife. Must be good with children and 18-25 years of age. Call at the Ministry of Magic on 3rd June at 10 AM.

Ginevra Weasley raised an eyebrow at the ad in The Daily Prophet. Interesting, she thought, taking a sip of hot cocoa. The door opened and the elfin young woman looked up to see her boss (and only coworker), Madame Harriet Malkin, ushering in a house-elf with a round, tomato-like nose and a young blonde boy. He looked up at her with wide grey-blue eyes.

"Ginny, this is Libby. And this handsome young man is Damien. He needs some new dress robes."

"No problem. Thanks Harriet." They exchanged smiles and Harriet went back to the front of the shop. She turned to the mismatched pair before her, unable to hide her smile when she noted that the boy, probably only about 6 or 7 years old, was noticeably taller than the adult house-elf accompanying him. "Hello. I'm Ginny."

The boy nodded regally and the elf, curtsying, said, "Hello Miss Ginny."

"So Damien, you need a new set of dress robes?"

He nodded again.

"Please, Miss. Master said he is to have the best money can buy, and Mistress Malkin said Miss Ginny designs the best."

"Oh," said Ginny, taken aback. "All right then, Libby. Would you like to pick out a design, then?"

She gave the elf her book of boys' dress robes and watched silently as Libby deliberated on them and Damien looked on disdainfully. Ginny began to set up the things she would need to measure the boy and begin his robes.

Suddenly the house-elf squealed and beamed at Ginny. "Please, Miss, what about this one?"

Ginny's eyes widened when she saw which robes Libby had chosen. They were her personal favorite, but she had yet to make a custom set, as they were the most expensive she'd designed.

"Libby, I think they'd look darling on him. What do you think, Damien?"

He sniffed and looked away. "I think they would look better in green and silver."

Ginny smiled. "Then green and silver it shall be, sir," she said with a mock salute.

The corners of his perfect little mouth turned up. "You're funny, Ginny."

She crossed her arms and looked at him suspiciously. "Oh yeah?"

He crossed his arms too, but sent her a defiant look. "Yeah."

Brown eyes met grey and suddenly the two of them burst out laughing. The elf stared at them as if in horror. Seeing her distraught little face, Ginny set to work measuring Damien, who now smiled at her. When she was finished, she eyed him thoughtfully.

"I'll be right back, okay?"

"Okay."

She returned with dark green, black, and silver material.

"Now what do you think of that?"

"Cool," he said, grinning.

"Libby?"

The elf nodded fervently. "Master will love it!"

Ginny smiled and held out her hand to Damien. "Well, sir, it was nice working with you."

He shook her hand, but sent her an inquiring look. "But what about my dress robes?"

He looked so distressed that she could barely fight back a smile. "Well I haven't made them yet, have I, love?"

"Will they be ready when we finish our shopping?"

"No, I'm afraid they won't be done today." She turned to Libby to explain. "I sew the muggle way."

Damien wrinkled his nose at her. "The muggle way? Why?"

"Because it's much – more – precise," she said, smiling and poking him in the stomach with each of the last three words.

He giggled and Libby looked at her with worry. "Will they be done by Saturday morning, Miss Ginny?"

"Well, muggle sewing does take a bit longer, and this is a complex set of robes . . ." Libby and Damien were squirming about and looking hopefully up at her. "But I'm sure it'll only take three or four days, tops."

The little boy grinned and the elf bobbed her head up and down so that her ears flopped merrily.

"Oh, thank you, Miss Ginny!"

"You're very welcome, Libby. Now, do you want to come pick it up, or do you want me to deliver it to you?"

"I'll—"

"Deliver it!"

Libby sent him a reproving look. "All right, Damien. Could Miss please deliver it to – 'Manor 3, Drawing Room'?"

"Sure. Does Thursday morning sound all right, Libby?"

"Perfect, Miss, thank you!" She glanced coyly at the desk Ginny had been sitting at before they'd arrived. "Did Miss see the ad in The Daily Prophet? The wizard looking for a housewife?"

"Yes, actually. I was just reading it when you came in."

"Well, Miss, Libby knows the wizard, Miss, and – well, Miss, Libby thinks Miss Ginny might . . . like to meet him. He is about Miss' age and, if Miss doesn't mind Libby saying so—" She glanced at Damien. "He is very handsome, Miss."

Ginny blushed. "Well – er – thank you, Libby. I – er – I'll keep that in mind."

Thursday morning at nine o'clock, Ginny smiled and stepped into her fireplace.

"Manor 3 – Drawing Room."

She stepped out of a large fireplace and looked around, hugging the parcel containing Damien's dress robes. It was the biggest house she'd ever seen, and elegantly furnished. Suddenly a small figure burst into the room, an even smaller one hurrying along behind.

"Ginny! D'you have them? Do you?"

"Yes, I have them, Damien." He bounced up and down in front of her, reaching for the brown-paper package. "But what's the word?"

He stopped bouncing and stared up at her with huge grey eyes. "Please?"

She smiled and handed the parcel to him. He immediately ripped off the string and paper. He held his new robes up and grinned; Libby beamed up at her.

"Thank you, Miss Ginny!"

"It's fine, Libby. Should I perhaps stay and make sure it fits well?"

"Oh, yes, please, Miss."

He looked into the drawing room; Libby, the house-elf he was looking for, was talking animatedly to a petite young woman with dark ginger hair. She was very pretty, especially when her eyes lit up like they seemed to do often. He sighed and combed his fingers through his hair. Now was not the time to fancy a girl. It was the time to marry one.