I don't know why I am writing this.

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The worst part about running was that my shoulders always hurt first, then abdomen, then my legs. So by the time I reached my flat again, I had to muster the last remaining energy from some God Up There to get myself up the stairs as these useless thighs just dragged along. And it didn't help that I lived on the fourth floor.

That morning, I pushed myself into my flat, immediately blown away by the overwhelming aroma of French toast, eggs and spicy sausages plunging the normally scentless, airless place of mine. I sighed and dragged myself to the kitchen where last night's dessert was at the stove, attempting to flip eggs.

"How did you know I wasn't out at work?" At least the view of his back is impressive. His back muscles flexed and his biceps ripped as he manned the frying pans. He turned around and his front features were not half as bad either; clean buzz cut, defined chin, average brown eyes… my tipsy eyes have always been quite keen on looks.

The man smiled. "How'd you know this was for you?"

"It's not very gentlemanly to raid a girl's kitchen while she's gone, you know."

"Well then, maybe I'm not the gentlemanly type," he grinned at his own wittiness and I couldn't help but chuckle at his foolishness. The food landed on two plates, equally divided with two pieces of toast, an egg, and three sausages on each. He placed two glasses of milk on the counter.

"I was fantasizing about my cereal on my run this morning. But I guess I'll have to deal." I said, smiling ever so charmingly. There was simply nothing luckier than a one night stand with a man who could cook.

He sat down beside her. "I'm Jack—Jack Caraway. I'm an auror."

Interest perked. "Are you now? I'm an auror too but I don't remember seeing you around."

"I was at France for fifteen years." Interest disappeared.

"It didn't take all fifteen years to get a job done, right?"

Jack had the kind of laugh I hate the most, the short, abrupt, 'Ha! Ha!' and back to business. "No, I had one mission but France—more like the women— was so beautiful, I decided to stay."

"So you're a Frenchman at heart?"

"I'm afraid so."

"That's nice… I never favored French men much."

"Ah, that might just change. You never know."

Nice save. "So I'll be seeing more of you, then?"

"I guess so. Lucky you, eh?"

"I think more like lucky you."

"Touché!" and he laughed—barked—again. "You seem pretty young. You a new auror?"

One fine eyebrow arched and I smirked. "New—depends what you call new."

"Such a nice girl like you… yeah, let me guess… six months?"

It was my turn to laugh. "You'll just have to find out, won't you," I said, silkily.

"Don't worry. I'll help you out. I'll make sure nobody touches a single hair on your head." He wrapped his burly arm around my shoulder, which I managed to shake off by getting off my stool. My calves no longer burned so I slowly began making my way to my bedroom when the hunk of a man stopped me.

"Hey, I never got your name."

"Ginny. Ginny Weasley." I smiled brightly, and turned back toward the tousled sheets and rumpled clothes in the chaotic disarray I call my bedroom.

I am most notorious for the breakneck speed of my morning routine. I have been told that I shower faster than the average man. It's all about multi-tasking. In ten minutes, I'm done showering, dressing, and pampering.

But to my dismay, Jack the gorilla was lounging on my sofa when I got out.

He stands and scratches his head smugly. "I thought we could go together. Same department and all… and I can introduce you to all my mates…"

Shoving the papers I had to sign the night before in my bag, I wrapped my mane of hair in a high ponytail, deliberately ignoring the man. His ego probably bruised, he suddenly reached out from behind me and pulled me into his arms, those massive tree trunks, his hands at my hips. He buried his face into the nape of my neck. For goodness sakes, right after I showered too.

"I noticed you only ate the toast." He whispered… sexily? I can laud him for his effort, though. "How about coffee later today?"

Ah, I've had worse mornings. I apparate, and he was still wrapped around me, in probably one of the more uncomfortable side-along apparitions I've endured. When I heard my new knee high boots click back on the ground, we're already at the ministry and luckily, I felt the gorilla detach himself.

"Good morning, director." One of the workers passed by me and I nodded in acknowledgement. God, these boots sound fucking good on these marble floors.

And the gorilla followed me still, and I could almost hear his jaw dropping as every passerby nodded and sucked up a little to me, the director of the auror department. Six months? Make that six bloody years I've been the boss.

The best part about being an auror is that our department is on the second floor, the shortest elevator ride. I heard Jack the gorilla get off behind me and I spun around, my long black leather coat whirling behind me for the dramatic effect.

"I only eat my eggs scrambled, drink coffee in the morning, hate sausages, and no, I don't think it would be necessary to introduce me to all your 'mates' because I am probably their boss. Which reminds me… I am probably your boss too, then. And no, I have far more important things to do than have coffee with a supposedly one night stand." I stuck my hand out. "It was nice to meet you, Mr. Jack Caraway. It'll be a pleasure to work with you."

That's right.

Don't underestimate me, bitches.

OOOOO

"You met a cook last night, didn't you." Elaine stared at me, piercing right through me with those metallic blue eyes of hers. One of the few people I can stand, she's been having the rockiest relationship with my other best friend, Colin Creevey for ages now. It's like she can read minds sometimes, the way she just looks at you. And she's the only one who can reprimand me for my apparently 'overly-active sex life' without turning into a platypus.

"How the hell do you always know these things?" This was my second cup of coffee, since I was a little deprived too early in the morning.

"You reek of syrup. Sometimes, you're a far too mean for your own good. I met Jack Caraway too. He's a nice enough guy."

"Nice guys finish last. He's a complete, doddering buffoon."

"Your poor mother. You know you're the only Weasley child who hasn't married, or even had a steady relationship."

"Why bother?"

"You're such a bitch." Elaine muttered, poking the sneakoscope on my desk.

"Dully noted."

"I don't know why men still shag you. Everyone knows of your habits."

"Which is why I still wake up to some man from some department of some place. It's a win win situation, Elaine, mutual symbioses. You just don't know it because you and Colin refuse to break up with each other, and for some strange reason, sleep around."

Elaine froze and glared. "Don't say that bastard's name around me."

"Another fight? What'd he do now? Hog the shower? Hide your Midol?"

"Oh, shut up. He skived off of meeting my mom yesterday for her birthday"

"Well, no offense, Elaine, but your mom is a bipolar, psychotic schizophrenic."

"But she's my mother! Can you believe there could be anyone so heartless like that?"

"Well…"

"Oh, I forgot I'm talking to you. Why is it that my two best friends are the most unemotional, unfeeling, heartless bitches in the world?"

I batted my eyes. "Because you love it."

Elaine sighed and took both empty coffee cups and stood up. "You're lucky being your secretary is the only job I can get."

"More like you're lucky you found me because I'm the only one who would venture enough to hire you?"

It's not like Elaine is very stupid or anything. She's a very bright girl, actually. Did well in school and all, but she is like Tonks… on clumsy-steroids. Elaine's father once told a fascinating story about how when she was younger, they moved eleven times in three months because she kept accidentally burning the house down.

And after a rude gesture, Elaine toppled out of her office, leaving Ginny chuckling in her evil bitch-ness.

I was always the best with names. I have never forgotten a single person I was ever introduced to and this had its pros and cons. First of all, the connections that came with this little ability of mine were phenomenal. After the war, I still remembered every name in the ministry that my father had introduced me to while he 'worked' there. It just makes you're a very social person… or at least makes you look like one.

But the problem was that I can't seem to forget names. An example?

I woke up this morning, sleek and shiny raven hair resting on my chest, slender—almost too skinny arms meekly wrapped around my bare abdomen. I shifted ever so slightly in my bed and she seemed to slip off of me so easily, flimsy and light.

And the worst.

"Good morning," she moaned, wrapping her arms around me again.

"Morning," I muttered. She poked her head up and smiled slyly.

Here's where my unfailing name-memory betrayed me, this impeccable memory poisoning me with the knowledge of exactly who I was fooling around with every night.

Romilda Vane. President of the Harry Potter fan club in our sixth year. Desperate enough to rig chocolate frogs with a love potion. Almost killed Ronald Weasley, though I can't blame her much for that. Grew up, became a part time model—which explains her bony body length, then a writer with her books, How to overcome a crush on Harry Potter, Beauty is no magic, it's you and my personal favorite, Looking good in middle of war.

After the recognition was the getting-out-of-bed, which I'd say was the hardest part. It consisted of three parts: getting out of bed, getting out of the room, getting out of her place, and all of them while somehow convincing her that I was not going to leave her.

This had been such a routine that it came naturally now, the imminent emergencies at work, the hurried, 'don't worry babe, I'm just getting a glass of water,' and all delicious stories of an unmerciful boss.

Men like me have it harder than you think. This was a truly beautiful lifestyle, I must admit, with no intricate chains tying me down to one person, and I have never been dissatisfied with my sex life. But this was the crucial moment that makes this lifestyle unflattering.

"Draco—baby where are you going?"

I pulled on my slacks. "Don't worry, I didn't mean to wake you up. It's still very early, Romilda. I've got to get to work but call you later tonight?"

"Oh, come on, just stay a little longer, please?" She pouted, sitting up on her bed.

"I already overslept yesterday; you know my boss, he'll fire my ass any chance he gets."

"He's just jealous because you distract all the women and steal all his female clients."

I chuckled. This girl's naïveté was too adorable. I doubted she even knew what I did for a living. My boss was actually my best friend and I could barely call him a boss since he never even bothers to show his face around anymore.

"Thanks, hon, but I've got to get going." I kissed her cheek. "I'll call you later tonight, okay?"

She sighed. "Fine. Do you want a bite to eat, then? Before you go?" She started getting out of bed but I knew that would make my situation more complicated.

"No, no, I'm not very hungry." I kissed her on the lips this time, perhaps and hopefully the last time I would ever have to do so. "Later." Step two, accomplished.

And after a carefully calculated 6 steps into the living room and toward the door, I heard her call after me, "Draco—wait, do you need my number?"

I laughed loudly, "You don't remember anything from last night do you," I asked through the door. I heard her feet pitter patter toward her door and she emerged from her bedroom, scad in a feeble white nightgown, nearly see through and a fair dozen centimeters too short.

"Well, then, I'll be getting a replay tonight, right?"

And then was my Malfoy smirk, ambiguously charming and cunning.

But this morning, as I reached toward the door, fully ready to accomplish step three, it flung open, nearly breaking my nose in. My hand flew to my face and out of the corner of my eye, I saw a shadow of a hulking figure looming at the door.

"Romilda, you bitch—you fucking LEFT me for this SON OF A BITCH? I saw you last night, don't you dare try to deny it. Yeah? I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY BECAUSE THIS BASTARD SLEEPS WITH EVERY WOMAN IN THIS WHOLE FUCKING COUNTRY AND YOU'RE JUST ONE OF A HUNDRED."

I racked my head for the 'Jealous (ex) boyfriends rushing into the flat in the morning emergency handbook.' All too quickly, I saw him whip out his wand and point it toward her.

"You still don't get it do you? I guess I'll have to put a little sense in that pretty little head of yours…" Before I could do anything to stop him, a scarlet flash jet out of his wand and immediately, there was a shrill, ear-splitting shriek and a shrill "NOT MY HAIR, NOT MY HAIR, I HAVE A BOOK-SIGNING TODAY!" Sighing, I knocked the willow wand out of his hands, slammed the door back into the side of his head—which was actually quite unnecessary and mean of me but hey, eye for an eye—and conjured handcuffs which I clasped around his wrists.

I sighed again. Romilda still running around her flat screaming with her hair on fire, I figured a double shot would do it.

Elaine stepped into my office again with a smug look on her face, those eyes twinkling and I knew something was wrong.

"I'm sending in a couple who got harassed this morning."

"Why?"

Elaine shrugged. "Because I want to see who's bitchier."

I frowned. "What?"

"Just wait for it—come in!" Elaine plopped down on the armchair on the other side of my office as a tall, leggy, woman stomped in, a small but undying fire at the ends of her once beautiful black hair. A blonde man I immediately recognized followed in behind her with the most irritated countenance etched on his face; I almost choked but held back my laughter for the woman's show.

"GET IT OUT OF MY HAIR!"

"Why don't you sit down first?"

Draco Malfoy promptly sat in one of the two chairs in front of my desk but the woman continued wailing.

"GET IT OUT OF MY HAIR!"

"I don't know if we have a misunderstanding here. This is the auror department, not St. Mungos."

"THIS IS DARK MAGIC. I KNOW IT IS. MY BOYFRIEND TRIED EXTINGUISHING IT FOR HOURS NOW BUT IT WON'T GO AWAY!"

I glanced at Malfoy and saw him flinch considerably at the sound of 'my boyfriend.' However, despite his obvious annoyance, I could see a shadow of a small smile along his thin lips. Draco Malfoy was indeed a bastard but he was not stupid and there was no way he would not know how to extinguish a simple Incendio.

Draco Malfoy had a sense of humor! He had cast a prolonging charm on the hair that would make the fire last longer despite anything, a joke even my bitchiness wouldn't have had the heart to do.

"In that case, I'm going to ask you to sit down so I can help you extinguish it."

The woman fell into the seat next to Draco and began her whiny muttering. At the words 'book signing,' Ginny automatically recognized the woman in front of her. Ginny stood up, stood behind the woman she now knew to be Romilda Vane and began playing with her hair.

"Are you Romilda Vane?"

Romilda turned around, her steel gray eyes looking Ginny up and down. "Yes, I am."

"I must say, Miss Vane, I am a huge fan of your books. It is an honor that I have the chance to meet you even before your book signing that I've been looking forward to since last week."

"Why—thank you. If you can get my hair fixed by ten, I could sign yours personally if you'd like."

"Well! I'd love that! It's too rarely I get the chance to come face to face with a model turned writer." I spied Draco Malfoy looking up at me in disgust, and then a silent chuckle when I winked and began blowing at the fire.

"How did this happen, Miss Vane?" Elaine asked from behind, catching on.

"My ex-boyfriend was apparently stalking me or such and saw me leave last night with Draco. Men, really, this is too much. It's been a whole week since we've broken up and he's still denying that I ever dumped him."

"But you have Mr. Malfoy now, right?" I asked, shoving a fist in my mouth to keep from laughing at the glare Draco sent.

Romilda turned to Draco and smiled widely. "Of course. Plus, Draco is amazing in bed."

I heard Elaine snigger in the back as I continued on this adventure with burning hair.

I never thought I'd be so amazed at a Weasley, let alone the little Ginevra Weasley who was always curled up somewhere in some corner with Potter back in school. The girl who stood above my 'girlfriend,' as Romilda called it, this strangely, overly-confident woman, was not the same girl who sent singing valentines to Harry Potter.

I saw in the bemused shine in her amber eyes, like a child on Christmas day, she had seen through my 'attempts' to fix Romilda's hair. I thought it would be interesting to see how far it would burn and now, Ginevra Weasley had effectively succeeded in turning Romilda's flames blue and no longer heated. All ends of her hair were fringed and well cooked, curled up into burnt coils in a sort of afro on the top of her head, now equipped with only visible blue flames shooting out from the top.

"It's no longer straight anymore because I'm not much of a beauty magic specialist, but the flames are now extinguished. You were in a very dangerous situation. You are very lucky Mr. Malfoy was with you. Elaine, could you call St. Mungos and ask for some hair ointment for dark magic burns?" Weasley asked, smiling radiantly at her secretary.

"Yes'm."

"I'm going to be getting some coffee, feel free to make yourself at home here, Miss Vane. Mr. Malfoy can get your hair ointment for you." Weasley nodded at in my direction before exiting her office.

"Oh, baby, could you? Please?" Romilda demanded, grabbing onto my sleeve.

"Oh—yeah, sure, of course, love. I'll be right back." I replied, leaping out of my seat and heading toward the door after the Weasley, who was leaning at the door frame of a cubicle.

"—going to need you to do a favor for me, could you?" I heard her ask.

"Yes, Gi—Miss Weasley?"

"I'm afraid there's some sort of… trash in my office and I was wondering if you could somehow get it out before I come back from my coffee break? It would make my life a whole lot easier, you know."

"Oh, sure, yeah, I'll get right to it."

"Thanks, Jack." She smiled brightly, the smile that wrapped every man around her deceivingly coy fingers. A gorilla of a man seemed to slouch out of his cubicle, and I could see in his dull eyes, all dignity a man should hold had been crushed quite thoroughly not too long ago.

As her boots clicked into the elevator, I was able to sneak in just as I heard an all too familiar blood curling scream from Weasley's office.

"I owe you one, Weasley."

"That you do. How the bloody hell did you get tangled in a mess like Romilda Vane?"

"Well, I don't know if I can supply you with the details. But if you are on your way to coffee, the least I could do is treat you."

"What, is this chivalry I hear?"

"More like, I'm not sure if a mere mocha could get that woman's screaming out of my system completely." I said, as the elevator reached the first floor.

"You are officially pitied, then. But the moment you get any wrong ideas from buying me coffee…"

"You underestimate me, Miss Weasley. I have more class than to buy the hearts of women over simple coffee."

She raised her eyebrows and eyed me, my smirk playing at her heart shaped lips. "We'll see about that."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I don't know why I'm writing this. I am just sick of reading all these stories about Draco being the philandering playboy, Ginny being the pure Weasley, Draco falling in love, giving up his whorish lifestyle, blah blah. I mean, since when was it only in the rights of a man to get all the fun? But all I hope is that this story isn't very cliché or whatnot because I am writing this primarily to write a fucking badass Ginny and there isn't much room in the world for more than one badass Ginny.

This is also an inspiration after some phone conversations I've been having with my friends and all their boy problems. I really don't understand the concept of relationships. I've started this story as sort of my way of trying to make sense of why my friends would stay in such shitty relationships (which is where I got my Elaine-Colin inspiration.) I don't know, hopefully I learn something from this. Because as of this moment, my dream life would be one of Draco and Ginny's: no commitments, no steady relationships.

Anyways, please review guys! My first chapters are never the best because I spend so much time trying to introduce my version of the characters but hopefully it'll get better hopefully you enjoyed!

Thanks guys!

P.S: if you were bothered by my grammar problems and VERY FREQUENT verb tense changes, don't worry, I know. It's just that I've never really written a story in deliberate first person view and I'm just taking a while to get used to it. I just thought I'd try this first person point of view style even though I hate doing it because it makes stories sounds so bleh but I've just recently read some AMAZING stories in first person and I am starting to get other ideas. So yeah. Deal with me for a while please. : ) thanks!