xXx

Ginny Weasley adjusted her oversized sunglasses and gave her messy chignon a pat. Giving her reflection in the shop window a quick glance, she paused to raise the hood of her winter parka before stepping foot out onto the snowy London streets.

She had no reason to believe that she would be recognized here in Chelsea, but you never knew with Quidditch zealots. What was worse, she knew from experience that if Muggles saw a stylishly dressed person being unwillingly photographed and accosted for autographs, some of them joined in even if they had no idea who the supposed celebrity was.

The likelihood of such an occurrence was almost nil when she concealed her gleaming red her hair, and these enormous sunglasses covered nearly half of her face. Her present disguise worked so well that one day she had walked right by smug git extraordinaire Draco Malfoy about a block away from her home, and he had been none the wiser.

Probably too preoccupied with thoughts of his own self-importance, she mused uncharitably. The fact that he had only grown more handsome with age made him even more irritating, if possible. He could no longer be accused of being a pointy-chinned freak, and he had grown into an imperially lean physique that displayed his finely cut clothes to perfection and made women stare in his wake—including Ginny. But not for the same reason. Obviously.

Annoyed by his presence in what she considered her Muggle neighborhood, Ginny had made it a point to follow him discreetly to see where exactly he was going. Judging by the fact that he used a Muggle key to let himself in the front door of a handsome looking Victorian-era house, Ginny concluded that Draco Malfoy was in fact her neighbor.

It had now been several weeks since this non-encounter, and she'd walked by his house on several occasions—on entirely unrelated business, of course—without ever running into him.

This particular Saturday found her walking home after a quick stop by the convenience store for some every-day essentials such as red wine and Swedish Fish gummy candy. She cast Malfoy's house a quick glance but could see nothing of interest, and no smug looking blonds in the vicinity.

Once home, Ginny removed her fashionable parka and winter boots to reveal mismatched flannel pajamas and bright green Holyhead Harpies socks. She threw herself on her extra comfortable leather couch and flipped on the telly, shoving various gummies into her mouth as her fingers worked the clicker.

On leaving the Wizarding world she had decided to fully embrace Muggle living, but she continued to refuse to watch reality TV on principle. She also disliked talk shows, and she would never realistically cook a duck on her own. She didn't care for Muggle sports, and she didn't want to shop for gold coins or discounted diamond earrings. In short, there was nothing on.

Sighing tiredly, Ginny reached for her tablet. It suddenly occurred to her that she hadn't heard anything new from her publicist, which meant that there hadn't been any recent fires to put out regarding her reputation. Could it be that tongues had stopped wagging after her dramatic breakup with Harry?

She snorted.

Not damned likely.

Once again she cursed herself for having let it get so far. Deep down she had always known they weren't right for each other, but she hadn't been able to help herself from accepting Harry's half-hearted advances. It was almost as if fate, that determined wench, had decided that they needed to be together just because it sounded great on paper. Thankfully she'd managed to escape before it had been too late.

Lately she had taken to fantasizing about what her life would have been like in twenty years if she had gone through with it and actually married Harry Potter. She pictured a defeated looking Ginny Potter in a drab skirt-suit, ugly panty-hose, and even uglier rubber shoes, looking like she'd given up a long time ago in an outdated and unflattering haircut, arm in arm with an equally dissatisfied looking Harry, both lost in thoughts of their own regrets as they stood on platform 9 ¾ to see their gaggle of brat children off to Hogwarts. The thought was almost enough to send her running and screaming from her flat, tearing clumps of bright red hair out of her head.

It was so obvious to her, and sometimes she thought even to Harry, that they were thrown together so that he could marry into the Weasley family and stop being an orphan. Well unfortunately for Harry, Ginny was no martyred saint and she had no intention of becoming one.

She knew what they said about her. The Daily Prophet in particular was raking her through the coals for daring to jilt The-Boy-Who-Lived; never mind that said boy had seemed distinctly relieved when she'd called off the engagement a week before the wedding.

Staring at the shiny screen of her tablet, Ginny suddenly wondered if the dumpster fire that had become her reputation had somehow reached the World Wide Web. She knew that embracing Muggle living had become a recent trend among young wizards and witches, and it wasn't unlikely that one of them might post something vile about her online.

Curiosity getting the better of her, Ginny opened a Google search page and typed GINNY WEASLEY.

Huh.

GINNY WEASLEY NUDE PICS was the number one search result.

She snorted indelicately. Those pictures were obviously fake, but they looked pretty good so she wouldn't bother making a fuss about it to her publicist.

She decided to refine her search by typing GINNY WEASLEY AND—

To her great surprise, the search auto-populated not just with HARRY POTTER, but also with several names of eligible young wizards that she had been linked to in the past. One name in particular caught her attention: DRACO MALFOY.

GINNY WEASLEY AND DRACO MALFOY.

"What the F?" she hissed, pressing her nose right up to the glass of her Surface Pro 3. She'd gone through a bout of binge drinking earlier in her Quidditch career, but even drunk out of her mind she would have thought she'd have enough judgment left to stop herself from shagging that smug fool. Where was this information coming from?

If she clicked on Google Images, she even found supposed drawings and pictures of her and Malfoy, some of them in varying states of undress.

What in Merlin's name is going on here? Ginny thought angrily. What sick minds could be responsible for this?

She nearly threw her tablet clear across the room in a fit, but she realized in time that would serve no purpose. What was important now was to figure out who was doing this to her and why.

After much cursing and some hair-pulling, suddenly she'd found it. Jackpot! The holy grail of all ridiculous and slanderous rumors about her and Malfoy. A place called The DG Forum.

And DG stood for Draco-Ginny!

"Who are these loons?" Ginny muttered, bewildered.

She clicked through pages and pages worth of inane conversation about her and Draco, and saw mention of… pink-haired babies?

Wut?

Next she found something called "fics". Apparently they had written stories all about how she and Draco had supposedly gotten together. Clearly the work of an overactive imagination, but somehow still... intriguing.

It seemed that at the moment the loons had some sort of a competition going on to see which of these fic things was best. Pausing only to question her own sanity, Ginny began to read the entries to this supposed fic exchange.

In some fics she was a Quidditch player—Well, she thought contemptuously, at least they got one thing right.

In other fics she was an intrepid curse-breaker, or an eccentric author, or a private detective, and even a spy in training. She had to admit that it was thrilling to think of herself like that, to see herself dive into adventures fraught with danger and mystery in much the same way that she dove after Quaffles in her real job. These loons were creative, she had to give them that.

In one story she was a prostitute; she'd thought she wouldn't like that one at all when she first started reading, but by the end of it she was wiping tears from her eyes, so compassionate and sincerely written had been her portrayal. In another story, she and Draco walked together through the Forbidden Forest in search of unicorns; that one made her sniffly too, because it reminded her of what she had gone through with Tom Riddle—if only she really had befriended Draco Malfoy back then, perhaps she wouldn't have felt so much pain.

Soon it became apparent that no matter how different, in every story the common thread was her relationship with Draco Malfoy. There was Draco stalking her the way she had once stalked—er, followed—him home. There was Draco working with her at the Ministry and hilariously pretending to date her. Draco traveling with her through time as far back as the 1940's, as together they fought against events that were so much greater than them. Draco dying in her arms as the sun rose over the shimmering sea; gods, more tears—why hadn't she thought to buy tissues at the store earlier?

And there were also happier times, like those lighthearted fics where Draco was with her at Hogwarts, on the pitch and in detention, being a smart-arse while her teenage self tried to resist his considerable charms in the face of her crazy hormones.

She had been surprised to see that some interesting science-related things also happened in their fics, like when Draco tried to save her from a plot to harvest her DNA for nefarious purposes; that one and the pretend dating fic made her blush deeply when she and Draco… and when he… and then they...Oh, never mind.

When he wasn't touching and licking where he shouldn't, Draco was offering her partnership as equals, and even, dare she say it—friendship. He was with her every step of the way in each of those adventures, sometimes literally taking a bullet for her, or simply holding her hair up if she felt too bothered by the summer heat. Draco made her angry, but he also made her laugh, and he made her cry. And most importantly, in each of those stories Draco gave her hope, and she could see that she had done the same for him.

She read well into the night. The loons might be certifiable, but they were also really good writers. Through it all, she pondered the blond-haired, gray-eyed former Slytherin in a way she never had before. She saw their life together reflected in those stories. In the fantasies of those talented writers, Draco had been with her from the start, and through to the very end.

Could it be that those so-called loons knew more about her than she herself did? They'd realized that she didn't belong with Harry, and wrote that relationship out of her life early on, where she herself hadn't fully realized what a big mistake she was making until it was almost too late. They had written her into hilarious and embarrassingly compromising positions, but unerringly, they had led her heart to Draco's; they had led them to each other.

As Ginny read, she realized that there were also people out there who actually read these stories for fun. Some of them were even kind enough to leave their thoughts and well wishes for the writers, saying how much they had loved reading about Draco and Ginny together, and how moved they had been by those stories. Ginny realized then that everyone seemed to be in on it; everyone except for Draco and herself seemed to have figured out that they were perfect for each other.

And suddenly something clicked—the final piece of the puzzle slid into place in her head. Call it instinct, call it magic, or just a simple hunch—suddenly every fiber of her being knew that she had to see him tonight.

Slipping her feet into her snow boots, Ginny threw on her parka, not bothering to button it before running out the door. She jogged the length of the block that led to Draco Malfoy's house, her hair slipping out of its precarious bun, her heart racing and the cold air of winter slapping against her cheeks.

When she reached his door she began to knock wildly, using both fists; it was very late but she wasn't afraid to be outrageous, remembering how well it had worked for some of the Ginnys in the fics.

"Hello! Draco Malfoy! Let me in! Hello?"

She had expected some uppity house-elf, but to her surprise it was Draco Malfoy himself at the door, barefoot and in black jeans, his white-blond hair in careful disarray.

Ginny froze.

It was true; all the over-the-top descriptions of his beauty were actually true: his features really were chiseled, his cheekbones razor sharp, his gray eyes smoldering, his eyebrows fine. And that silky looking hair… her fingers wanted so badly to curl in it. Could it be that his touch really would burn her, and that his kiss could make colors explode behind her eyes? She had to know; she wanted so badly to know.

For his part, Draco took one look at her and raised a perfect eyebrow expectantly.

"Well? What is it, Ginny Weasley?" He folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe. "Are you lost? Perhaps collecting donations from those more fortunate?" His voice was deep and smooth as velvet, sending shivers rippling through her skin.

Ginny hesitated for only a moment, remembering their fics; all the times that Draco had tried to play it cool instead of admitting that something in him had been touched by her from the start. And try as he might to hide it now, his piercing gaze made clear that he was intrigued, that her presence was welcome.

"Draco…"

He raised his eyebrows at her use of his given name. And it felt so good to say it, it felt so right to say it.

Without even thinking she found herself leaning in to grab fistfuls of his shirt, bringing his mouth down to hers. He didn't resist but merely sighed before their lips connected. Her lips were cold, and oh, his were so warm and soft, and they moved ever so gently against hers and it really did feel electric in every way. But it wasn't enough and suddenly her hands had found the nape of his neck, while his traced the curve of her waist, pressing her body flush against his, holding her firmly as his tongue tangled with hers. The world seemed to go dark around her, the feel of his lips, the taste of him—for one precious moment it felt like the only thing that was real.

When she drew away she found him opening his eyes to look back at her in a dazed, breathless way, his cheeks flushed prettily.

"Look, I know this seems crazy but I swear I can explain," she said quickly, her fingers still grasping the soft fabric of his shirt. "You and I are...We've always...I mean...Draco, I want you to Google me."

For once Draco Malfoy was left without anything clever to say, his mouth opening and closing without a sound.

"I want it too, of course," he said at last. "But... Ginny, don't you think we're moving a bit too fast?"

Ginny stared, and suddenly understanding dawned on her. "Oh! Goodness. Oh, no! I didn't mean that… at least not right now." She could feel herself blush, but tread on resolutely. "I meant that I want you to search for me on the World Wide Web. There's something I need to show you...and it concerns you just as much, Draco. May I come in?"

Draco Malfoy didn't know what she was talking about, nor did he care. He only knew that he'd been waiting for her—this crazy, vibrant, lovely witch—for what felt like many lifetimes. Against a presupposed fate, through time, through space, through everything. It had always been her.

"Yes," he said without hesitation, opening the door to his life wide for her to walk through. "Yes please... Ginny, do come in."

xXx

Needless to say, Draco and Ginny didn't do much reading and reviewing that night, and they certainly didn't vote—but you can!

The DG Forum Fic Exchange—Winter 2015 is drawing to a close. Thirteen D/G fics have been posted under our account, and now it's time to choose the very best. You can help us choose the Best Fanfiction Overall, Best Banter, the best characterizations, and even Best Kiss. For more details please visit The DG Forum, or click on our author page for a link to the polls. Voting opens on February 9th, 2015.

Want to read more D/G from the author whose fic captivated your fancy? Then don't forget to visit us on February 13th, when writer identities will finally be revealed.

We hope you've enjoyed this year's exchange!