Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including, but not limited to, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Press, Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made, and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended
Author's Note: Hmm… okay, this is my attempt at D/G fluff. Don't know if it's gonna work, hope so… please review and tell me, if you review, I'll give you fudge! grin
Prologue
Ginny Weasley sat staring at the moving quill in front of her. She narrowed her eyes at it, and with a determined set to her jaw, grasped it in her hand and tried to make it write what she wanted it to write.
It was useless. The damn thing had probably been charmed. She could guess it was either Fred or George. The twins had been to visit her earlier, and she had unthinkingly left them alone in her office to get the tea.
She sighed, and left the quill to its nonsensical scribbling. Moving with cat-like grace, she descended the ladder down into the main part of her flat. The décor was relatively simple—her mother had told her on more than one occasion that it was barren, but Ginny liked the simplicity of the clean lines and sparse furniture. The place had already been furnished when she moved in two years ago. It was part of the reason why she'd moved in.
It didn't much matter that her landlord was a Muggle, or that she had to smuggle owls in through the roof window in her office, as long as the place was hers and hers alone. After living in the Burrow for 24 years, it felt incredible to finally have some space—not to mention peace and quiet.
She bounced onto her sofa, upsetting the gray cat that lounged there. The creature turned to her with a reproachful look.
"Don't look at me that way, you ungrateful little wretch. I feed you, you know." She giggled as the cat turned his tail to her and stalked away.
She stretched out and idly pointed her wand at the stereo (a Muggle contraption she found very useful when listening to Muggle music). Scorpion blared out, and Ginny headed toward the kitchen to get some water on the stove for pasta.
After leaving Hogwarts, Ginny had gotten a job writing an editorial column for the Daily Prophet. At first, it was only meant to be temporary, but the job had stuck (of course, it didn't hurt that every time she threatened to leave, they gave her a raise).
Her first editorial had been her about the events of her 6th year, the year Harry Potter defeated Voldemort. She never knew why she chose to write about that; it was a tricky subject for her very first piece. However, that piece had been the turning point of her life. Shortly after it was published, people wandering Diagon Alley were coming up to her and thanking her for writing it. For some reason, people seemed to take comfort in her honest opinions on what had happened.
The water boiled and Ginny rushed to add the pasta. That piece had brought her the best friend she'd ever had. Draco Malfoy, for reasons nobody but he ever knew, contacted Ginny shortly after she'd written it, and asked if he could take her to lunch. Nobody had seen much of Draco since he'd left Hogwarts but, as he later told Ginny, it had more to do with people not wanting to see him, than him really being out of sight.
She sighed and stirred the pasta absently. Lucifer, the gray cat, wove himself in and out of Ginny legs, rubbing against her and purring. She looked down at him and chuckled, reaching down to scratch his cheeks.
She poured herself a glass of red wine and closed her eyes, letting the resounding base of the music thrum through her head.
When her friendship with Draco had begun, she had been dating Harry. Her relationship with Harry had been a disaster from the very beginning, and had lasted less than a year. They stayed friends, but nothing could ever erase the memory of their completely chaotic time together. Draco had never dated anyone in the three years he was around. She'd always wondered about that, but was grateful at the same time. He'd always had time for her, to listen to her petty troubles and make her see how stupid they really were. Then, about 4 months before he disappeared, he'd given her Lucifer, telling her the gray cat had found its way to his doorstep the day they'd first gone to lunch, and he wanted her to have him.
The pasta was done and Lucifer was begging for petting. She sighed and stood up, leaving her wine glass on the coffee table. She shuffled her stocking feet as she walked to the kitchen, trying not to trip over the nagging cat.
Ginny awoke with a start the next morning. She was strewn haphazardly across her bed, one of her socks half off her foot and her hair sticking to her cheeks. She grumbled and fumbled for the clock. Her eyes bulged when she saw the time, and she scrambled to get out of bed. Her foot caught in the sheets, and she fell with a loud thud to the floor.
Kicking the sheet off and shouting obscenities, she hurried to the ladder leading to the loft. She had to finish her intalment and send it in by 9:00 a.m. Bursting into her office, she spied the quill still scribbling gibberish on her parchment, and she rushed at it. With a near-guttural cry, she snapped the thing in two and tossed it down the ladder for Lucifer to play with.
Pulling fresh parchment from the magical drawer on the flat table, she grabbed a fresh quill, dipped it into the ink, and started to rewrite her piece.
Average Thoughts by Ginny Weasley
Giselda Penniworth, heiress, has a claim to fame among both wizards and Muggles. This week, the opera singer is taking advantage of both communities, by announcing… an announcement. She has long been planning a trip to London (Muggle and Wizarding), and has now told us that, when she comes, she will be formally announcing her engagement. So far, Miss Penniworth has been secretive about her future husband, but this columnist suspects it will all come out on her visit here, sometime next week. I suppose
Miss Penniworth just wants to tantalize her fans with tidbits of her personal life but, quite frankly, I find it rather annoying. To begin with, it's rather idiotic to announce an announcement, and second, Penniworth seems to have a flare for drama which I find despicable, and an overlarge ego. Perhaps her fiancé is a rich, dashing young man who will woo the world, or perhaps he's a weak, sniveling tagalong. Whatever he is, I assure you, I could care less. If Miss Penniworth thinks her fame will get her adored and admired wherever she goes, I am determined to prove otherwise. Dear Reader, you may look forward to many scathing comments about the attention-seeking witch in the weeks to come. On a lighter note, the Ministry has recently…
When Ginny finished her piece, she sealed it tightly in an envelope and hurried downstairs with it. She had no owl of her own, so she had to go to Diagon Alley to send her work in to the Daily Prophet. She dressed quickly in a pair of soft, grey pants, and a large, flouncy shirt. Clutching her envelope, she Apparated to Diagon Alley.