This story was written for Aerileigh's prompt in The DG Forum Fic Exchange – Winter 2010. It won the award for best characterisation of Ginny. Many thanks to all who supported my fic, and a special thank you to Iris for being such a patient and wonderful beta.

To the Sands of Timbuktu

"Let me get this straight," Hermione said, frowning as she watched her sister-in-law pack. "You're being sent to Timbuktu on a mission to protect a curse-breaker who is trying to retrieve a magical object the Ministry has told you nothing about, nor, for that matter, can tell you the exact location of."

"That's right."

"And the curse-breaker you're supposed to be protecting is Draco Malfoy."

There was a pause as both women considered this unfortunate fact.

"Well, it might not be so bad," Hermione observed, attempting cheerfulness.

Ginny closed her wardrobe door with a snap. "You're right, Hermione. I don't know why I'm getting so upset; I mean, who wouldn't jump at the chance to play Knight in Shining Armour for a man as wonderful as Draco Malfoy. I'm just thrilled to be going to a foreign and potentially dangerous country with him to help him look for a magical object I know nothing about. It'll feel just like going on holiday." She clapped her hands together, raising her eyes to the ceiling with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Oh, I simply can't wait. It's going to be such fun."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "You know, Ginny, there is such a thing as being too sarcastic."

"I'll keep that in mind," the redhead responded, zipping up her bag. She placed her hands on her hips and glanced about her bedroom. "I think that's everything I need. Of course, it would help if those muffin-scoffing idiots at the Ministry would actually tell me about what to expect in the countries I'm exploring, but that's clearly asking too much of them."

"We've always known the Department of Mysteries have a penchant for being vague with details."

"Vague? Please, Hermione, they're just lazy. You know what Natalie said when I asked her if there were any specific diseases I need to get immunised for? Look it up yourself," Ginny mimicked in a nasally voice, "I'm not your information point." The redhead scowled at the memory. "I'll show her a bloody information point. If I die from malaria while in that hellhole with Malfoy, you had better sue the stuck-up bimbo for me."

Hermione smiled and handed Ginny her coat. "Ginny, if you die while on this mission, I will not only sue Natalie, but the whole department of muffin-scoffing idiots, as you so nicely phrased it."

The redhead grinned. "I knew there was a reason I wanted Ron to marry you."

"And I here I thought you wanted us to marry because I made him happy."

"That too, but your knowledge of the law does come in handy when I want someone fired."

Hermione laughed. "You are a terrible person, Ginevra Weasley, do you know that?"

"Alas, it is my greatest affliction." Ginny glanced at her watch and swore under her breath. "Looks like I'm going to be late."

"You're leaving now?"

"I'm on a tight schedule for this mission," she replied, shrugging on her coat and picking up her bag. "The Ministry believes there's a chance that Malfoy and I might not be the only ones searching for the object."

"Are you going to be alright?"

"Of course. I'm not the Ministry's best Defence Against the Dark Arts expert for nothing." Ginny gave the brunette a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you when I get back. Give my love to everyone, and tell Mum not to fret! I'll be back to eat her ghastly stews and listen to her plague me about settling down with a nice, respectable man before she knows it."

Hermione shook her head, unable to repress a smile. "Goodbye, Ginny. And good luck!"

Ginny saluted and then Disapparated with a crack, materialising at the meeting point with her bag in hand and an apology already tumbling off her lips. No matter how much she loathed Draco Malfoy, she was still professional enough to know that turning up late for their departure was poor behaviour on her part. The redhead fell silent, however, when she discovered that her only companion was a house-elf, who was currently staring at her through bewildered green eyes.

"Where is everybody?" Ginny demanded, paling as she wondered if the blond had left without her.

"Master is saying goodbye to his lady friend," the elf responded primly.

Ginny's jaw tightened. "And who would your master be, exactly?"

"Master Malfoy, of course."

"Of course," she repeated, turning away from the elf. "Well, isn't this a brilliant way to start my trip. I turn up late only to discover that my darling partner is too busy saying goodbye to his 'lady friend' to even meet me."

"Bonky apologises on Master's behalf, but Master was certain Miss Wheezy would not mind waiting for him for a bit longer, considering Miss Wheezy's notion of punctuality."

"Oh, he said that, did he?" Ginny responded, giving a short laugh. "And what does your Master know about my notion of punctuality?"

"Bonky is not privileged to disclose that information. Bonky is only repeating what Master said."

"Well, Bonkers—"

"Bonky," the elf corrected in a dignified, if rather squeaky, voice.

"Whatever," Ginny said, waving her hand dismissively. "The point is that your master knows nothing about me, and, contrary to his opinion, I do not appreciate him making me wait like this at all."

"Forgive me, Miss, but Bonky cannot help but point out that Miss Wheezy was late as well."

Ginny stared at the elf with increasing dislike. "Yes, and you like to talk in third person. Funny world, isn't it?"

Bonky looked rather offended, but Ginny ignored the creature and sat down on the ground, deciding that if she was going to be stuck around here for a while, she might as well be comfortable.

She reclined against her bag, wondering how long Draco was going to make her wait while he finished with his 'lady friend'. It was a shame that he was the one who had all the information about where they were going, as well as the Portkey that would actually take them to Africa. He had been the one initially assigned to the mission; she had just been tagged on at the end because the Ministry didn't want to take any chances, much to both of their displeasure. Ginny had no doubt that Draco was making her wait like this simply because he could. He had never liked her – not that she had ever given him reason to. The only thing they had ever agreed upon was their own mutual loathing of each other.

"And now I'm going to be stuck with him for Merlin knows how long," she sighed, dropping her head back to stare at the sky.

"Did Miss Wheezy say something?" Bonky asked, staring at her warily.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Not to you, Blinky."

"It's Bonky," the elf sighed, more to himself.

"Blinky, Blocky – I don't care." She settled herself more comfortably against her bag and closed her eyes. "You never get my name right, so why should I care about yours?"

"How charming," a familiar voice drawled. "Not only do you like to terrify every man in the country, but you've also taken to terrorising the house-elves for having speech impediments. You're a real bundle of civility, aren't you, Weasley?"

Ginny sat up with a jerk, her eyes narrowing as she stared at the handsome blond standing before her. "Well, look who's finally decided to show up," she said dryly. "So glad you could finally leave your whore for the day to join me. I hope it wasn't a tearful goodbye."

"You would certainly know about tearful goodbyes, wouldn't you, Weasley?" Draco replied with poisonous sweetness. "Except, of course, men run away crying from you."

"Very funny," she snapped. "Look, let's just skip the insults and get on with it. We're already behind schedule thanks to you, and the sooner we find this damn object, the sooner we can go our separate ways."

"That's fine with me."

He dismissed Bonky, who was more than happy to escape from Ginny, and then reached into his pocket and pulled out a small candle.

"What's that?" Ginny asked, slinging her bag back over her shoulder and getting to her feet.

"The Portkey. It's been set to leave in exactly—" he glanced at his watch "—one minute."

"That doesn't leave us much time."

"I thought you wanted to hurry and get this mission over and done with," he responded, amused.

"I do, but it would be nice to know where we're actually going."

"We're going to Timbuktu."

"Well, I know that, but surely you must know more about the object's specific location. I mean, if it was in the city itself, people would have already found it already, don't you think?"

"You obviously need to learn your history, Weasley. The point is that people did find it; that's how the Ministry discovered the object's existence." He frowned. "Haven't you read any of the briefings?"

"I read what they gave me; it's not my problem the Ministry are too lazy to be detailed with their briefings."

"Perhaps they thought the important information would be too difficult for your mind to comprehend," he mused. "You are supposed to be the brawns of this partnership."

Ginny's eyes narrowed, but he only smiled sweetly and then held out the candle to her.

"You might want take hold of the Portkey, Weasley. We wouldn't want you to get left behind now, would we?"

She scowled at him and closed her hand around the other end of the candle, repressing the urge to wrench her hand away when their fingers brushed against each other. Brown eyes met grey: hers glaring, while his stared down at her mockingly, and then Ginny felt a familiar tug at her navel and the world spun out of focus. When her feet touched the ground again, she was no longer staring at the grey and green landscape of England. Instead, she found herself confronted with a violently blue sky that seemed to join like an ocean with the everlasting sands underneath. Then a wave of dry air hit her, and she almost stumbled backwards as her body struggled to acclimatise to the sudden change in temperature.

"Bloody deserts," Ginny muttered, stripping off her coat.

"Better get used to it," Draco responded, shoving the Portkey back in his bag. "We're going to be here for a while."

"Well, I know that," she snapped. "I have done this kind of thing before."

"Could have fooled me."

Ginny glared at him, but did not deign to respond to his comment. He wasn't paying attention to her anyway, too busy setting up a spell with his wand. She turned away from him and took in the barren landscape that surrounded them. There was a mass of shadowy shapes in the distance, which shifted in disorientating ripples the closer she tried to inspect them. There was no sign of any other people, or any type of civilisation.

"Where the hell are we?" she demanded, rounding on the blond. "I thought you said that Portkey would take us to Timbuktu? You can't tell me the famous, mythical city is just an expanse of desert."

Draco laughed softly. "Why don't you try using that pretty little head of yours and think about it, Weasley. I know it's difficult for you, but do consider: would the Ministry really let us Apparate in the middle of a Muggle city where anyone could see us? I think not, which is why we're going to have to walk the rest of the way, and maybe if you were silent for just a moment – though I know that is an impossible task for you – I might actually be able to figure out our location."

Ginny gritted her teeth, irritated by his patronising tone. He paid no heed to her and went back to busying himself with what she assumed must be a coordination spell. Realising that there was no point arguing with him, she folded her arms and stared about the desert as she waited for him to get the right bearings. Her gaze settled on the shadowy shapes she had been looking at earlier, and a faint crease formed on her brow.

"Malfoy, I think—"

"I really don't care what you think," Draco interjected smoothly, still trying to work out the complicated spell. "You've already proven yourself to be more of an imbecile than I thought possible, so I highly doubt you're going to be of any use to me while we're on this mission."

She rolled her eyes and dragged his hand up so that he was pointing at the mass of shapes in the distance.

"There is our destination, Malfoy," she announced, releasing his hand. "You don't need to waste our time with your little coordination spells when the city is right there in front of your eyes." She gave a derisive snort. "Honestly, you curse breakers are all the same."

He straightened to his full height, his jaw tightening just a fraction. "I would have seen it eventually. I don't need your help."

"In that case, have fun finding the magical object by yourself; you can let me know when it's time to go home." Ginny took a safari hat out of her bag and placed it on her head. "In the mean time, I plan on getting out of this desert, so if you'll excuse me—"

She turned on her heel and walked in the direction of the city. It took Draco ten seconds before he finally swallowed his pride and followed her. Ginny repressed a smile, pleased that she had won that round, but she did not say anything further to him and continued to walk ahead.

By the time they finally got to Timbuktu, both were very hot and thirsty. Ginny was dreaming longingly of ice-cold lemonade and shady trees, but one look inside the infamous city made her realise she was unlikely to find either of these luxuries. The trees were scraggly and thin, and the whole city seemed to be crumbling before her eyes. There was a deserted, lost feeling about the place, as if everything – even the buildings – had given up hope of surviving long ago.

"What happened here?" she asked, feeling her heart ache as she watched a group of malnourished children playing in a water-parched gutter.

"The desert."

"Hrm?" she queried, looking up at the blond.

"The sand," he elaborated. "It's destroying everything: the buildings, the water supply, the crops – everything. I'm surprised there are even people still living here."

"That's awful."

"That's life," he said shortly, continuing to walk.

Ginny glowered at him. "You're quite the compassionate one, aren't you?" she observed, stomping after him. "Don't you care that these people are suffering?"

"I know it's not my place to interfere, and neither is it yours." He met her eyes squarely. "Muggle problems are Muggle problems. We don't get involved unless it affects us. You know that."

"But—"

"Listen, Weasley," he said bluntly, losing his drawling tones, "you might want to run around and play Mother Theresa, but right now we're on an important mission. I don't care what you do once we're finished here, but for now you're working with me, and I will not have you jeopardising our work with your ridiculous schemes to save the world."

"I don't take orders from you!"

He took a step towards her, his eyes as hard and cold as stone. "You will do as I say."

"Is that a threat?" she demanded, holding her chin high.

He smiled, though Ginny noticed it did not reach his eyes. "I'd like to consider it a warning, and one you should heed if you're wise."

"Why you little—"

"Do shut up, Weasley. Your obnoxiously loud voice is giving me a headache."

The blond turned on his heel and walked away without another word. Ginny glared at his retreating figure, her hands clenched tightly into fists.

"Who does he think he is?" she growled under her breath.

Draco paused, glancing back at her with that air of bored languor she oh-so-loathed. "Well, what are you waiting for?" he called. "Or you do plan on standing there in the sun all day? I wouldn't recommend it; you're freckled enough as it is."

Ginny resisted the urge to respond to his petty comment, deciding that she would be the mature one and just ignore his rudeness, though she couldn't resist poking her tongue out at him once his back was turned. They walked in silence through the streets, passing miserable sight after miserable sight, until they came to a large building that looked a bit more cared for than the others.

"What is this place?" she asked, glancing up at the blond.

"This would be the museum."

"Muggle?"

He nodded. "Naturally. Still, we may be able to get a clue as to where and what our object is from here. I have good reason to believe it originally was used in ancient African rituals. Most of the worshippers were Muggles, of course, but there was always the odd wizard or witch who actually knew what to do."

"I thought Timbuktu was part of the Islamic religion," Ginny said, frowning.

Draco raised an eyebrow at her in surprise, reluctantly impressed. "So you do know something? I'm astonished. Well, you're right, Weasley, most of the Muggles living in this region did turn to Islam when the Djenne merchants first began establishing the city in the eleventh century, but before that the original people of Timbuktu – the Tuareg Imashagan – worshipped something else."

"And you think this 'something' will give us a clue for what we're looking for?"

"Well, we won't know until we look, won't we?"

Ginny sighed, resigning herself to several hours of tedious research, and followed him into the museum. She had never been particularly studious – much preferring the practical work like Defence Against the Dark Arts and Potions while at school – so it was no surprise she had turned to fighting against the Dark Arts and magical creatures for her job. Finding herself reading a bunch of barely legible manuscripts, most of which were in a language she struggled to understand, was therefore not her idea of fun.

The Muggle looking after the museum had been reluctant to let them even look at the manuscripts at first, but with a bit of magical persuasion on Draco's part, all had been sorted. It was not exactly the most ethical method, but it did get things done. As Draco pointed out, they didn't have time to worry about morals. Four hours later, however, Ginny was wishing the man had never let them into the museum, let alone near the documents.

"I'm hungry," she moaned, rubbing her stomach. "Can't we have a break? We've been looking at these mouldy things for hours."

Draco ignored her, still frowning over a piece of parchment in his hand. "This doesn't make sense," he mumbled, forgetting to maintain his languid demeanour for the moment. "It's like there are some pages missing or something."

Ginny yawned and stretched back in her chair. "Well, that man did say lots of the manuscripts were stolen or are being kept at the Armed B—Bar – well, that 'Armed' thingy."

"You mean the Ahmed Baba Centre – and I know, but it will be a lot more difficult to get in there and look at the manuscripts without arousing suspicion, even with our magic. The last thing we need is for our cover to be blown."

"So what do we do?"

Draco frowned. "I don't know. I'll have to think about it some more. But at least we know one thing."

"What?"

"The object is definitely somewhere in the city or, at the very least, within its parameters."

"How do you know?" Ginny asked, propping her chin on her hands.

"Because it says here that the Tuareg worshipped a serpent named Ouagadou-Bida."

"And?"

"Well, Weasley, if you had bothered to learn your Malian history, you would know that when Islam became the dominant religion under the Mali Empire and, then later, the Songhai, there was no mention of any water serpents or magic, yet the city itself had never been more powerful. Timbuktu eventually became a place of learning and religion, most notable for its mud mosques – one of which the emperor Mansa Musa commissioned to be built."

Ginny frowned. "And this Mansa Musa and his mosque are important, why?"

"That's what I want to find out. What I do know, however, is that the Sankore Mosque, the one Mansa Musa asked to be built, became the centre of learning in Timbuktu – a place where many wizards, who were also scholars, chose to spend their time. Many of these same scholars were executed or exiled when the Moroccans took control in the late 1500s. The Moroccans claimed it was because of the scholars' disloyalty to the Saadi ruler, Ahmad I al-Mansur, but it seems too much of a coincidence to me. I think the Saadi was looking for the magical object and the scholars refused to tell him of its whereabouts."

"You think the Islamic scholars were the ones who hid the item, then?"

"Possibly. It seems like the Saadi wasn't the only one looking for the object. The French also went in search of it, as did the Scottish and the English. It was Gordon Laing's account that the Ministry found, which told them a dark item of magical lore was being kept somewhere in the region. Laing himself was killed a month after reaching Timbuktu, but he did manage to report back to the wizarding council of his findings before his death."

"What did he say?"

"Only that there was something powerful hidden in the Well of Buktu."

"The well of what?"

Draco repressed a sigh. "It's one of the old translations of Timbuktu. Anyway, I won't know for certain where or what the object is until I can piece together the fragments of information I've got so far. Someone has been careful to remove anything that might give away too much, but we're definitely getting closer."

Ginny grinned, unable to help but get caught up on the rush of actually discovering something. Then, as if realising what she was doing and who she was smiling at, her mouth levelled back into a grim line, and she stood up from her chair.

"Well, Malfoy, now that you've proven you can be as informative and dry as a history tome, shall we leave? There's not much point us staying here any longer." Her stomach grumbled again. "Besides, I'm bloody hungry."

Draco rolled his eyes and used his wand to send the manuscripts back to their place. "Try to have a little finesse, Weasley. You sound awfully vulgar when you talk like that."

"I don't care about finesse – I care about getting something to eat." She frowned as something suddenly occurred to her. "Where are we staying anyway?"

"Not in the city. We'll set up camp outside."

"That will be safer," Ginny agreed.

"We might as well do that now," Draco said, grabbing his stuff off the desk and standing up. "I don't think we'll be finding anything to eat or drink in the city."

"I'm sure they would have something for us."

"Well, of course they would, but if you want to go ahead and take what someone else needs more than you, be my guest."

"So you do care," Ginny exclaimed triumphantly.

"Not a bit," Draco responded, unmoved. "I just figured whatever they have to offer wouldn't be very appetising anyway."

Ginny rolled her eyes and followed behind him as he headed for the exit. As they were passing back through the city, Draco pointed out an odd pyramid-like structure further in the distance, which he said was the Sankore Mosque. It was one of the strangest pieces of architecture she had ever seen, and had what looked like long spikes sticking out if its outer frame.

She frowned, wondering if it actually did have any significance for what they were looking for. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled slightly, and she turned to see a man dressed in black watching her intently from across the street. Ginny didn't know why, but she found his presence and dark, unblinking gaze unnerving, even frightening.

Ginny hurried to catch up to Draco, who had continued walking ahead. She was too proud to admit her fear – she was supposed to be the big protector, after all – but it would be stupid not to tell the blond of her suspicions.

"There was a man watching me from within those buildings back there," she hissed. "I think he knows who we are."

Draco didn't turn back to look. "What did he look like?"

"Tall, dark skin, wearing a black cloak."

"African?"

"I think so."

"And you say he was watching you?" Draco asked.

Ginny nodded. "Very intently."

To her surprise, Draco only smiled. "I don't think you need to worry about him."

"How do you know?" she demanded.

"Weasley, if you haven't noticed, you're one of the few – if not the only – white females in this city. You'll probably find he was staring at you because you looked different. And I can't say I blame him. Your hair doesn't exactly say subtle."

"Speak for yourself, blondie."

"Ah, but I'm not a woman."

Ginny glared at him. "Let's just hurry and set up camp. I'm tired of being in this dusty old place."

"Fine with me," Draco responded, and walked with her out of the city boundaries.

It took them a while to decide where they wanted to set up their camp, but eventually they agreed upon a place and began building their tents. All was fine until Ginny realised her tent had a rather large hole in it, which disrupted the magic stitched into the linings, making the tent warped and more like what Muggles used.

"I'm going to kill Ron," Ginny growled, throwing the tent down on the ground with a huff.

She knew she should never have leant it to him. This was her only tent – the one she used on all her expeditions – and he, being the idiotic troll he was – just had to go and ruin it.

"Problem?" Draco queried, looking rather amused as he stood watching her outside his perfectly built tent.

"I can't sleep in this," Ginny admitted in a gruff voice, pained at having to go to him for help. "There's a hole in it."

"Now why doesn't that surprise me?" he drawled pleasantly enough, but she could hear the contempt underlying his voice like venom mixed with honey. He considered her for a moment and then sighed. "Well, I suppose you might as well share my tent. It'll make it easier to place the misdirection charms around our area, anyway."

Ginny did not thank him, but she was grateful that he had decided not to be immature and make her sleep in her broken tent. One just never knew with him.

She gathered her belongings and walked inside his tent, only to stop short when she saw how luxurious it actually was.

"Merlin, Malfoy, did you decide to bring a whole palace with you?" she exclaimed, turning to look at the blond in faint disgust.

"Just because I'm a curse breaker who sometimes has to stay in less than comfortable places doesn't mean I have to be uncomfortable myself." Draco brushed past her and headed for the large bed. "I don't have a bed for you – this is a one-man tent – but there's plenty of room for you on the floor." He smiled sweetly at her. "I'm sure such a resilient woman as yourself won't find any problems with that. You're probably used to such sleeping arrangements."

Ginny gritted her teeth, not oblivious to the insult, and threw her bed roll and sleeping bag on the floor. "You're right, Malfoy, the floor will be fine."

His mouth twitched into a smile, but he said nothing more and continued unpacking his belongings. Ginny was busy unpacking her own stuff – though, in truth, she was really just looking for her food rations – when she heard the blond swear under his breath.

"What's wrong, Malfoy?" she asked with false concern. "Forget your hairnet?"

"Don't be stupid," he responded smoothly. "I packed that first."

Ginny stared at him, not sure if he was being serious or not. One really did just never know with him.

"If you must know, Weasley," he continued, "contrary to your predilection to think I can only be concerned about my appearance, the truth is that I seem to have left one of my books back in England."

"Books?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Weasley. Books. They're those things that people read, which believe it or not, actually carry an abundance of useful information inside. Perhaps you should try reading one sometime. It might cure you of this habit of asking idiotic questions."

Ginny glared at him. "You know, Malfoy, I've just about had it with your rudeness to me! From the moment we got on this trip, you've done nothing but insult me!"

"Hrm, I wonder why."

"That's it!" Ginny growled, whipping out her wand.

Draco had his own wand out in a flash, and for a moment they both stared at each other, their wands aimed at the other's face.

"Put your wand down, Weasley," Draco said calmly.

"You first," she retorted, still glaring at him.

He laughed. "I don't think so. I know you don't play fair."

"Oh, and I'm supposed to trust you?"

He walked towards her, a disquieting smile touching his lips. Ginny stood her ground, still holding her wand aloft as she met his grey eyes challengingly.

"You know you're not going to attack me," he murmured, lowering her wand for her, even as he lowered his own, "so let's not play games."

Ginny let out a small breath, though her eyes remained narrowed. "You're lucky I've been assigned to protect you."

"I'm sure," he said dryly.

She glared at him. "One more insult from you, Malfoy, and I might just change my mind."

"Here's a warning for you," he responded with all his usual poisonous sweetness, his face inches from hers. "Pull your wand out on me again and I will make you regret it."

"Is that a threat?" she asked for the second time that day.

"No, Weasley. That's a promise."

He stepped back from her, and Ginny was suddenly aware of how edgy his proximity had made her feel as her body relaxed at having more space to breathe. She watched him go back to unpacking his things and thought, not for the first time that day, of how much she truly despised Draco Malfoy.

The sooner they found this object the better, in her opinion. Anything had to be more enjoyable than being stuck in Draco Malfoy's company all day.

Notes:

I feel I need to make some sort of disclaimer because I'm writing about a place I have neither studied nor visited. That being said, I did try research as much about Mali and its history as was feasible for the time I had – and very fascinating it was too – so if I do get things wrong, we can blame it on the shoddy historians who got their facts wrong and therefore muddled me. Of course, since I'm fusing 'Muggle' history with my own spin on a 'magical' history, some things will be changed.

I must also apologise for making Draco give a history lecture in this chapter, but it is important to the story – I promise I'm not trying to torture you with information.

Leigh's Prompt (3)

Basic Outline: A dark object of ancient lore has been discovered in deepest, darkest Africa. The Ministry sends its best curse-breaker and best dark arts defence expert on a trip to Timbuktu to retrieve it before it falls into the wrong hands. Problem? The two absolutely hate each other, personally and professionally.

Must Haves: Humor: SNARK (and arrogance) from both of them, each in their own style. Adventure: They're in Africa, they might be racing bad guys, and they're hunting an evil object. Go with it. Romance/Drama: they're travelling/working/living together in close quarters, and underneath all that unadulterated loathing is some undeniable chemistry - except, of course, that they probably deny it. ;)

No-no's: Tragedy, a sappy/cheesy end, past relationship junk

Rating Range: T+

Bonus Points: Super points if you do a little research into ancient Africa and craft together the real world history with a parallel Wizarding backstory. Regular points for shirtless Draco, Ginny in a safari hat, and a wonderfully satisfying kiss.