A/N: This is mostly dialogue (written to get over writers' block, no less). There's a bit of (suggested) Harry/Luna at the end, by the way, so if you don't like that, just don't read it and pretend that this has a (semi-) happy ending.

My Dead Body

They met at a table in the very back of the Leaky Cauldron. It was mostly inaccessible by the waiting staff, which meant that it would take longer than usual for them to receive their orders. It also meant that the table was perfect for private conversations, and they both believed that the good outweighed the bad.

"How'd you manage to get rid of Potter?" he asked, running a hand through his white-blonde hair.

"It was easy, really," she replied. "He thinks I'm shopping for dress robes; apparently, that isn't a huge interest of his."

"Thank goodness," he added. "Though I suppose that this ruins my theory that he's made it his personal mission in life to completely ruin mine…"

"Stop talking about that," she said, a wave of melancholia suddenly overwhelming her. "You know how I feel about it; being Mrs. Harry Potter really wasn't my dream. It just worked out that way."

"You didn't have to let it," he returned bitterly, waving away the lone waitress who dared invade their privacy. "You could have told him 'no'."

"And then what?" she asked shrilly. "Be alone forever? Live with Mum and Dad forever? I just can't do that, Draco. Marrying Harry meant freedom."

"Freedom?" Draco chuckled vituperatively. "The freedom to do what exactly, Ginny? This really doesn't seem like freedom to me, us sneaking around like this. It seems more like subjugation to me."

"That's a bit harsh, you know," Ginny protested. "I'm not Harry's slave; it's just natural for husbands to not want their wives fucking their worst enemies. And, besides, what about your friend Parkinson? She seems to keep you on an awfully short leash, you know…"

"She isn't my friend," Draco responded distastefully. "She's my alibi. Where does Father think I'm at when I'm out with you? With Pansy. It's worked perfectly so far, and she really doesn't ask much in return."

"Yeah," Ginny spat, "except for the right to live in your house and sleep in your bed and do everything with you. She's more than just an alibi, Draco. I can tell."

"No, you can't," Draco said viciously. "Don't talk about things you know nothing about, Weasley."

"Don't call me Weasley," Ginny smirked. "Call me Potter."

"Over my dead body," Draco glared. "The day I call you 'Potter' is the day I call a truce with your brothers. In other words, never."

"Never say never," Ginny replied vaguely. "I never would have thought that I would become an adulteress, but I am one. Anything can happen."

"Don't think of it as committing adultery," Draco smirked. "Think of it as survival of the fittest. We are the fittest, so we belong together. Pansy and Potter aren't, so we manipulate them. They lose. This is really all Potter's fault, anyway, so don't blame all of this on me."

"Don't blame everything on Harry!" Ginny snapped. "He's been nothing but kind to me this whole time, Draco, and I think he knows that I don't love him. I mean, we've only fucked once, and that was on our wedding night… If I were him, I would be suspicious."

"He's not suspicious," Draco insisted. "He's too thick to be suspicious. I bet he's with someone else, too, so it really doesn't matter."

"He's not with anyone else," Ginny stated.

"Oh, really?" Draco asked mirthfully. "Don't like the idea of your husband being with anyone else, even though you're cheating on him? That's just a bit hypocritical, if you ask me."

"I didn't ask you," Ginny replied brusquely. "Just be quiet about it; he isn't with anyone else."

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That night, Harry Potter pulled on his cloak and kissed his wife goodbye. He was going out. The night was young, and Luna Lovegood, her luminous blue eyes glittering madly and her beautiful blonde hair up in a messy bun, was waiting…

(the end)