You would n't have to be reading this if I wasn't so obsessed about being a journalist right now.
I'm a little hesitant to put this up because I'm afraid that it's nothing like some other stories of mine and most of you will be dissappointed... but... I'm not sure.
So read and review so I know if I should go on with it or not.
OOOOO
Love.
A force so strong that it has powers to bind a man and woman (or woman and woman or man and man) together for eternity, where they are virtually blind to every other aspect of their lives.
Basically… love doesn't exist.
Because the new fad nowadays are money, power, strength, and work.
How can love exist?
Nowadays, women are in "love" with a man's money (or vice versa). They are in "love with their strength and their height in the social ladder in this atrocious and god forsaken government.
I find true love to be on the streets. Two people, barely passing by with barely any money but content and happy with their spouse. That is love. When the richest wizard in this world falls a bit behind on the social ladder to stay behind with a struggling, poor girl. That is love.
But of course, that would never happen in this century because currently, the richest wizard in the world is Draco Malfoy.
No offense, Mr. Malfoy, but you have a little learning to do.
It's on a little thing called love.
I am writing this now, in pure angst and the deepest loathing and disgust. Just the other day, I was walking to work (yes, I don't fancy apparating too much) when an anonymous girl came out of the building, looking not too grand. Putting two and two together, I guessed she had just gotten out of a job interview. See? The Daily Prophet has been promoting new writers (yay for free advertising, eh, boss?) and I'd never seen her around. Just then, I saw the richest wizard in the world (Malfoy) walk by, sneer at her in a hateful way and blurt out extremely offensive words toward her because she was pretty poor and was looking shabby.
Yes, you thought this man was everything you would have thought of and that he was you one and only destined love?
Think again. Get this in your head. You are in love with his money and power. There's no way, really that any girl can love such hideous monster and repulsive creature like him. The whole aristocracy of this world sickens me.
I won't be surprised to find hate mail for this now, especially from you Malfoy's money loving ladies out there.
Well, get over yourselves, seriously. You deserve better. We all do.
So take that, Mr. Draco Lucius Malfoy, and shove it up your tight arrogant arse because really, I hope you have a dreadful life.
-Ginevra Weasley, Daily Prophet
"Good morning, Mrs. Weasley." Rose, that ditzy Hufflepuff just out of school, called cheerfully as Ginny walked into her cubicle the next day.
"Mm. How are you." Ginny more stated then asked, because frankly, she wasn't very interested in how she was.
"OH, it's fantastic. Jerry got back together with me last night after our fight and bought me dinner and look at this! Isn't it just gorgeous?" Rose exclaimed as she began to grope around for a silver diamond necklace that hung around her neck.
"Yes, very pretty." Ginny mumbled without looking.
"Oh, and Mrs. Weasley…"
"For the last time, Rose, does it look like I'm married? Do I have a five hundred thousand pound ring on my finger? No. Leave me alone and do what normal secretaries do… not… talk about your… love life."
"Miss Clearwater asked to see you this morning, MISS Weasley." Rose said, with slight disgust, fear, and sadness in her voice.
"Did she look angry or happy?"
"I don't know, ma'am… I don't know if normal secretaries are supposed to tell you that."
Ginny sneered in a very Malfoy-like way and stalked off to Penelope's office.
"Come in."
"Crap." Ginny moaned, hearing the grave and angst in Penelope's voice.
"Sit, Ginevra."
She sat.
Penelope Clearwater, the opinion editor of the Daily Prophet slammed the newspaper down in front of them.
"Explain. Explain why you just openly dissed the most powerful man in the world who we had very good relations with and we are now probably going to face bankruptcy?"
"What do you mean? It's the opinion section… I'm allowed to have an opinion, aren't I?"
"But Ginny! YOU NEED TO KNOW WHEN TO CROSS THE LINE. This is going too far. You know how much Draco Malfoy helps the Daily Prophet? How much he has to do with our finances?"
"Oh come on… He can't be in charge of everything here because of his money."
"Ginny, I'm sorry that you have your values on money and power but this is reality. Money equals power. End of question."
"Look, I didn't do this to blow this newspaper up! I did it to get the news out. For the past many years now, the Daily Prophet has made many mistakes, especially succumbing to the Ministry. You told me that we've changed. That's the only reason why I took the job. It hasn't, hasn't it? It's still the same old politically attached newspaper that prints stuff that we need and what the public WANTS to hear, isn't it?"
"How could you say that, Ginny?"
"If you're going to fire me, it's not happening. You can never get rid of me. Only I know about how Percy made you run this section as propaganda against Harry five years ago. This newspaper was never the same after I joined and you know that."
"And who's the arrogant one, Weasley?" a deep voice perked in. Penelope stood up.
"Mr. Malfoy."
"Miss Clearwater. Am I intruding?"
"Yes." Ginny said coldly.
"No." Penelope said, both women shooting glaring glances at each other.
"Dear boss… please elaborate on why the air has become colder and there is trash being dumped on your door?"
"Ginny…"
"It's okay, Penelope. I've gotten past those rather juvenile comments, especially made by people whose hairs are red and their last name starts with D and ends with "isgusting." Whoops, I mean… starts with a W and ends with an "easley."
"Oh, that's too funny. I never thought you can string two words together. But really, who can I blame? Ferrets don't tend to be brilliantly smart, right?"
"No they don't, and you should know, Weasley. Weasels and ferrets are from the same animal group, aren't they?"
"Just what I was saying. Really, ferret, I don't know where you got the whole 'weasel' thing, because for your information, my name is Weasley. I'm sorry if that's too hard for you to say or understand. Sometimes, life can be tough, right? You know, especially in Azkaban… you should know… visited your dear father lately?"
"Actually, no. He's an embarrassment to me. I am far more superior to him. You should know… after promoting me to… what was it… 'richest wizard in the world?' honored. Here you were… calling me a ferret."
"Again, you should read more carefully, Malfoy. I'm almost positive that I've mentioned that money is the most absurd and ridiculous deciding factor in a person. Basically… I guess you should have figured… you're a real right bastard…"
"Enough. Really, Ginny? What has gotten into you? Please sit, Mr. Malfoy." The two of them slumped in their seats, frowning and glaring at the person next to them like two misbehaving students meeting the headmaster.
"Now, Mr. Malfoy, we're truly sorry about this article…"
"No we're not."
"Yes we are." Penelope said with a penetrating gaze at Ginny. "We have noticed that even though Ginny has all rights as our free-lance columnist to write anything of her choice without our consent, we do feel that she had crossed the line with this directly mutilating article about you."
"You mean you do. I don't think that I've 'crossed the line with this directly mutilating article.' Frankly, I'm hurt that you would think that. You've never had a problem about me taking a jab at people… whether it was Percy, Ron, our minister, and you even."
"Well, Ginny, turns out that I'm your boss and I pay you."
"You can't fire me…" Ginny said in a sing-song voice.
"I won't. Don't worry. There's a reason why I got Head Girl, Ginny. It pays sometimes to wake up early and think of reasonable punishments."
"What are you going to do? Make me say sorry?"
"You will either be suspended for a month, be given a different job, will write an apology article, or agree to do one thing that Mr. Malfoy wishes, that is to be confirmed by me, of course."
Ginny gaped disbelievingly. "That's IT? I get suspended for a month and I'm done? Okay, Penelope. I think I'll go with option number…"
"Are you sure about that? I've looked up your records, Ginny, and they don't look so bright… looks like here, you purchased a firebolt two months ago and you're still paying it off…"
"I can easily get that another ti…"
"You've moved into a bigger flat…"
"Moving is always an optio…"
"You lost fifty galleons to Harry Potter on a bet."
"Oh, yeah… forgot about that… horrible things that kid does to you."
"See, Ginny… suspension's not going to do you much good."
"Typical of a Weasley to have money problems." Draco piped up.
"Mr. Malfoy, please. Shut up." Penelope said, surprising both Draco and Ginny.
"And you were telling me what?" Ginny gasped tauntingly.
"Give it a rest, Ginny. Pick one."
"I'm definitely not going to lower myself down and write a sorry article. The day I do, the day I kill myself."
"Can I have your word on that, Weasley?" Draco asked.
"SHUT IT. I'm definitely not going to leave my job. I've seen the way you treat the rest of them, Penelope. Slave driver, I tell you."
"Really?" Draco asked conversationally.
"Yeah. She sets unbearable deadlines for everything. When you can get your coffee… when your meetings with her are, when lunch starts and ends, when you can go to the bathroom… oh, yeah, and when your article is due." Ginny said in a totally opposite voice of her angst a few minutes before.
"Ouch… that's horrible!" Draco said sympathetically.
"Tell me about it."
Penelope watched these two with incredible interest and amusement. Just a few minutes ago, they were yelling at each other, basically about to kill and here they were, talking just like two regular friends. Of course, she would have preferred if they weren't talking specifically about her but it was highly entertaining.
When Draco and Ginny realized that they have just completed a conversation without saying the word 'ferret' or 'weasel' once, they straightened up and began to glare at each other again.
"Well," Penelope said with a wise twinkle in her eye. "I guess that leaves you with…"
"I know what I have to do. Now what is it you want, Malfoy?"
"Interesting… Interesting… mother was right. I have a specifically fantastic knack for timing."
"Just… get it over with. Penelope, you better be nice or else…"
"I need you to date me, Weasley." Draco said.
OOOOOOOOOO
How much do you want to be that I'm not going to update ever again?
Any takers?
Well, anyways, this is the most cliché story in the world. I don't know where I got the idea either. I've grown rather fond of writing articles these days for I am a poor inspiring journalist.
And please have suggestions to make this story such a… not… so… boring and stupid and cliché'd story.
For your own sake.