Smashed Sunshine's Note: This is the second chapter that I have written due to lack of time on the part of my co-author. The lack of reviews, for good or bad, has not deterred me or Clara Lou and we shall continue to persevere with this story. I don't think I need to warn you about anything in this chapter… It's a little shorter then the last one. So sit back, relax, and enjoy!

Acknowledgements: To caitlin19 for reviewing, thank you! This one's dedicated to you and everyone else whose love life is a little more then complicated.

Dictionary

'Work noun – 1: application of effort to a purpose; use of energy. 2: task to be undertaken. 3: thing done or made by work; result of action. 4: employment, occupation, etc., esp. as means of earning money. 5: literary or musical composition. 6: actions or experiences of specified kind.'

Chapter Two

Mugs lined the draining board in regimented order. At one end were the freshly used ones, coffee grains clinging to the base defying gravities pull. In the middle there were the caked varieties – a dirty brown colour staining the white. At the extreme end though there was mould. It festered like a monster waiting for its prey. No one wanted to touch it or look upon it, so gradually it grew worse, spreading its vileness. Every now and then there would be a cup, boldly supporting the wounded soldiers of the scolding water. They glinted happily in the sunshine as the rays bounced off their curved metallic bodies. Though their feet were cemented to the bottom by caffeine based glue, they were merry and uncaring for the world around them.

Moving away from the cups and spoons is a deep cliff. Within its metallic walls are plates, bowls, knives, forks – a cacophony of crockery and cutlery. Water cascaded off the sides, pulling away only little bits of muck in its path. Like a fountain it splashed harshly over the ceramic monster of chaos. Looking deeper though, it can be seen that water is pooling up at the bottom as the plug hole becomes blocked with cheese and old bits of pasta.

Panning out from this scene, the cluttered work tops and overflowing kitchen table come into view. The surface of the latter can't be seen from all the papers and dirty plates lying on the surface. Only a vase of flowers in the centre was the order among the chaos. Elegant carnations added a blush to the otherwise grey kitchen boldly.

A sigh escaped Ginny's lips as she surveyed the sheer mess that was the kitchen. Why it was that men and women could never live together without there being a world war over who did the washing up? True it had been her idea to have the rota, but she hadn't anticipated a particularly large work load that evening. It was in typical form though that no one else had offered to clean up the mess. In fact it was typical that her flat mate refused to clean up until Ginny did the nights cleaning she'd promised five days ago.

Another sigh escaped. 'Shit.'

She hoisted her files up into her arms more to prevent them slipping away and walked over to the table. Releasing her arms tension, the files dropped to the surface with a loud thud. Then she placed her keys down on top of them and ran a hand through her hair in a resigning way. She was tired, her clothes smelt of smoke, her feet had swollen to twice their size, her body was sweaty from earlier exertions and her hair had that slightly plastic feel that grease brought. Altogether she was, like the kitchen, an absolute mess.

'Language Weasley,' came the amused voice from the doorway.

'Sod off Malfoy,' she said automatically. 'You aren't helping by being a stubborn mule.'

'Nice to know you think of me as higher then muck Weasley,' he replied coldly. 'Maybe if you'd cleaned up when you were supposed to we wouldn't be in this mess. Would we?'

His voice demanded answers that would force her into taking the blame for the situation. She hated it when he did his lord of the manor act. It wasn't even his flat - he only paid rent once a month, apart from that it was normally like he was never there.

'Don't start. I'm tired.'

Turning, she pushed past him and padded into the sitting room wondering why on earth she had ever accepted a Malfoy into her home. Oh yes, she remembered dryly, money. At the time she had been unable to keep up the payments on the mortgage and had eagerly taken up her mother's suggestion of taking a lodger. The problem had ultimately been though that this would mean allowing a stranger into her home. Pushing this concern aside, she had put an ad in the newspaper and had arranged interviews.

Albert had been the worst, she recalled. He had been twenty three, with long black greasy hair and a huge hook nose. For some bizarre reason his pupils had been entirely black, which had given her quite a shock. She had been unable to even make eye contact with the man. Appearances are deceiving though, she thought, and had offered a great big smile. She had been wrong. When he began to leer at her and talk about sexual positions that can be applied to broom movement, she realised he was not the sort of house mate she was looking for.

In came Draco. He was essentially perfect for the job. His long term girlfriend had chucked him out, screaming that he would never love her because of his work. He had apparently replied that at least he wasn't a frigid bitch with a tendency to grunt like a pig at the crucial moment he did unfreeze her knees. For that comment he had been stunned at close range – it had just been a miracle that she had such bad aim- which left him at St Mungo. Ginny and Blaise had gone to visit him, offering their sympathy for the lack of movement he could use. He had looked so low at that point – vulnerable like a puppy dog that had been kicked. It might have been that he got what he'd deserved, but nether the less Ginny had pitied him. The next day she had offered him a place to stay.

Bastard, she thought savagely and she slumped down into a large comfy chair. It didn't take him long to go back to his normal arrogant ways. How stupid she'd been to think that he could ever change! Even if he was on the good side, he would always be the same old Draco Malfoy.

'What's wrong?'

She looked up to see him leant against the door frame. Like her, he looked knackered beyond belief. Dark circles were drawn under his eyes and his hair was tussled with stress manhandling. It had been a long day for all of them. Her heart melted slightly. These were the moments when she remembered that he was human and not just her cold hearted boss. Sometimes he could be so caring, almost gentle. Others he was Satan incarnate.

'It's been a long day,' she grumbled tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 'What with those enchanted toasters getting into the Ministry and demanding the right to vote as well as toast bread, and then that woman killing her abusive step father, I could easily quit work and become a…a…nun.'

A smile curled the corner of his mouth in an appealing way. Why was it he had to be so cute when she was annoyed with him? He always did this to her! Every time she needed someone to take out all her stress on, he would give a rare smile and make her feel drained of all anger. It was almost as if he had the switch to her temper and he liked to play with it before letting her be.

'Would it help if I cleaned the kitchen?'

'What happened to "If you can't be bothered to move your large arse Weasley and tidy up your own mess, then I don't see why I should"?'

'If you quit work then I'd be left alone with only Zabini for company,' he remarked with a casual shrug. 'I'd probably commit murder and you'd forever feel guilty that you could have saved his life if only you hadn't skipped off to the nunnery.'

She smiled at him brightly. Already her mood was lifting. If Draco did the kitchen then she would be able to have a shower and get rid of the awful stench lingering on her. 'Are you sure?'

'This is a task I shall no doubt regret taking on.'

'Thank you!' she leapt up from the seat and threw her arms round his neck. 'Thank you! Thank you! Thank You!'

He remained frozen in her embrace as she squeezed him tightly to her. Moving her head she gave him a huge kiss on the cheek. 'I promise I'll stick to the rota next time!'

Draco's eyes went to hers – one eyebrow was raised and he looked slightly amused and bewildered. She frowned and suddenly realised what she was doing. Her body was pressed up against his, her arms wrapped around his neck and she had just kissed him. Her cheeks flamed slightly as the uncomfortable feeling settled in her stomach. She took a little step backwards and tucked her arms behind her back. 'Sorry, I got a little carried away.'

'I noticed.'

'Yeah, sorry about that.'

'Quite alright.'

'Alright.'

'Indeed.'

They stared at each other for a moment, neither wanting to mention the fact that she had done something embarrassing. Ginny shifted from one foot to the other, her eyes going to the spot of wall behind him. Well that wasn't very professional, she scolded inwardly, he probably thinks you're really desperate now!

'Erm…I'd better be off to the bathroom to clean myself up then.'

He nodded at her and stepped out of the way, so she could pass. 'Okay.'

Awkwardly she stepped past him, with what she hoped was an apologetic smile plastered all over her face. Never before had she even contemplated hugging Draco, especially seeing as he was her boss. What was it the Muggles' said? Don't mix business and pleasure. Even though she found herself attracted to him sometimes, she never acted upon it. He was handsome with his aristocratic face, straight hard lines and firm body. The fact he was only jokingly arrogant made him all the sexier in her view. Never though would she entertain the thought of seducing him though. He was Malfoy. Malfoy was scum.

'Oh and Ginny,' he said gently, 'Remember that tomorrow we have to go interview the witch in Azkaban. You might want to prepare yourself for that.'

With that he moved away into the kitchen, leaving behind him a very confused red head.

xXx

Gyrating bodies moved to the pulsing sway of the music. Smiles lit up the darkest corners of the room, as spirits pushed closer to each other. Red and green strips of light bounced off the walls, hitting the people at varying angles. Highlighted from the crowd by jets of neon slender they would dance themselves into the ground. The heart of the room was beating with sex and anticipation as the beat increased – slow then fast and back to steady rhythms.

Bitter End, the brand new nightclub, was in full swing on its opening night. Drinks were flowing at a cut price and people had taken the opportunity to let their hair down. Celebrities mingled with the press, giving their opinions of the new slice of Diagon Alley, whilst the public squealed in delight at a glance of their favourite singer.

Luna smiled brightly to the person stood before her. He had long black hair, scruffy to the root and a predatory smile darkening his handsome face. Dark eyes emphasised his good looks, as did the long leather cloak and tight black clothing that hugged his figure. There was something slightly feline about the way he looked and acted, making Luna want to reach out and stroke the top of his head. To do that though would have meant getting a step ladder. Dwayne Oarlocks was defiantly a sight to behold.

'So how would you describe Bitter End Mr Oarlocks?' Luna asked sweetly, pushing her glasses up her nose as she did so and poising her quill for action.

'Hot, mysterious, glistening, black, deadly, invigorating,' Dwayne listed in a slow sultry tone. 'I like it. The atmosphere is electric.'

'Would you see this as a place where you and the Mews could hang out then? Or is it more a place for the people?' she was grabbing at anything she could. An interview with Dwayne Oarlocks didn't come cheap and it would defiantly get her a pay rise at the Daily Prophet. All she had to do was find something interesting to write that she could put her own spin on.

Dwayne paused and ran a hand through his hair. 'I could easily see me and the band hanging here, but I can also see it as a place where a man could take a lady for a fun time. For all the readers out there, I defiantly suggest this as a place for a date. As I said the atmosphere is electric and the music is rocking.'

'Hmm,' she paused and looked down at her parchment. It wasn't exactly a world exclusive. No, she'd have to squeeze him for more. Inwardly she sighed, it been so much easier working for her fathers paper. The readers had been interested in things that were important, like equal rights for garden trolls. Not enough money was made from it though and Luna had had to find a new job.

It had been difficult breaking the bond between her and the family business. Since her days in Hogwarts she'd wanted to carry on there, but it had been too stressful not being able to get good interviews. She should have realised things wouldn't change. Gossip would always be the big seller and so she would have to adapt. Write something banal. A grimace flickered across her face for a second. Well, at least she wasn't thought of as Loopy Luna anymore.

'What kind of lady would you personally bring here, Mr Oarlocks?' she asked in a honeyed tone. 'Anyone in particular that our readers would be interested to hear about?'

Another smile changed his face to one of light instead of dark. 'Well that would be telling Miss Lovegood, wouldn't it? A gentleman never gives anything away about his girlfriends.'

'Hypothetically speaking though, who would you bring if you could take anyone?' she continued to dig. 'There must be someone…'

'I guess it would have to be…' he leaned forward secretively, 'You.'

Luna frowned slightly. Well she hadn't expected that one. She wasn't exactly good looking in any sense. Since Hogwarts she had acquired a new set of glasses that fitted her face better. Her hair was cut into a bob that framed her face, and was naturally a dirty blonde. Appearance had never really bothered her, so her eyebrows were still very pale and her eyes slightly protuberant. Round her neck she was sporting a necklace of bottle caps and, lower, a dress made of patches from old cloaks that had been going to the bin. It was baggy and long on her slim frame, coming in at the waist then dropping to sweep the floor. They had said dress smartly and it had been the closest she could get.

'I suppose now I've got you here…' he began.

'Luna!'

Turning slightly, she grinned. It was Harry Potter, her favourite Auror and all round good guy. It was safe to say that she loved him. Not in an obsessive way, but that of a friend. He had always seemed to see beyond what the others saw. When they say black and white, he would notice the grey areas – just like she would. In Hogwarts he had seemed like a god. A man who was a speaker of words and a doer of deeds. A true hero. Now he transcended that – Harry Potter was the hero who had saved them all and was now an Auror for the Ministry.

'Harry!' she said in what was almost a whisper. 'You're in a nightclub!'

'Erm…yes…' Harry said slowly, having reached her. 'So are you.'

Her eyes darted from side to side for a second. Dwayne was looking vaguely amused, as was Harry, and they were both gazing at her expectantly. Just gazing though and it seemed almost as if they were looking right through her. There was no staring involved, no counting the freckles on her nose or caring about her appearance. Just a non-judgemental gaze, which seemed a little out of place.

Stop, Luna thought, over analysing everything and speak to them.

'This is Dwayne Oarlocks. He's in a band, but his Mew's aren't with him tonight because Damien has a cold and Phillip's wife is expecting a baby any second now. But wasn't it nice for him to come and represent them all? Don't you think so Harry?' she gushed. 'Oh and this is Harry Potter…but I'm sure you don't actually need any introductions because you're both so famous!'

Now they were staring at her. Luna had done it again. She had babbled. It seemed that whenever she was doing an interview, she could just be Luna. But then when there was a friend about, she would have to be Loopy Luna, the girl who was absolutely dotty. In some ways it was very unfair.

The two men shook hands though, and talked to each other politely. Luna should have been listening, she knew, but she wasn't really with them. Her eyes had moved to the dancing people. Didn't they realise that dancing like that was unhealthy? They'd probably develop something nasty, or catch something off the person they were pressed against. Then there was the fact it was a fire hazard to have so many people in one little room.

'What do you think?' Harry asked with a smile.

'I know. They really should limit the number of people allowed to dance at one time. Maybe a stamping service would help.' Luna said dreamily.

'Actually he meant to Bitter End itself,' Dwayne commented with the hint of a laugh in his tone. 'Though I'm sure that's a good idea.'

'Oh, the club…' she said quickly. 'Well I think it's very…nice, if you like that sort of thing.'

The men exchanged glances, and Harry shrugged slightly.

'Well, I'd better be going. Got to talk to the fans and book a table for tomorrow night.' Dwayne said with a smile. 'How does seven thirty sound to you?'

Luna frowned at him. 'Pardon?'

'For our date,' he continued. 'After all, I haven't said everything I want to say about the club for your readers.'

'Oh…okay…'

'That's a date then.'

Dwayne leaned forward and kissed her cheek lightly. Then like a cat he disappeared into the throngs of people, with only screams of delight to show his path. Luna blinked. It was slightly surreal to be asked out on a date by a rock star. Especially one who had asked you out in front of about hundred screaming girls, who would probably hate her for even breathing the same air as him. Oh well. She needed the interview.

'Date, hey?' Harry said with arched eyebrows. 'Sounds like you've been busy since I last saw you.'

'An interview is an interview. You should know that by now Harry Potter.' Luna mused. 'Maybe I should bring him a bunch of flowers to say thank you…'

'What ever would Ron think?' he remarked with a sly smile. 'I suppose this means you aren't besotted with him anymore?'

A sigh escaped her lips. Ronald Weasley was amazing. He was tall and lean, with bright red hair that made his noticeable. His face was mature, with freckles sprinkled upon it like hundreds and thousands. Yes, Ronald was like a cake. Beautiful and delicious to…

'Or maybe not.'

Luna blushed slightly. Ever since Hogwarts she'd been madly in love with Ronald Weasley. She had wanted to be normal for him, so she'd cut her hair and got new glasses. The way she spoke had become more definite in a vein attempt to make him like her. She had appeared normal for almost a whole year once. He'd just thought she'd gone mad though and dismissed her. Having been in the year above her at school, he had left and it had hurt deeply to be alone. Now she worked at the Prophet though, she got to see him almost every day.

'Is he here?' she asked enthusiastically. 'Is he coming to this nightclub? Tonight?'

'He's running a little late because he had an interview with Cho Chang to deal with. Not something I'd particularly like to do. Not with all our history anyway. I mean…does she still cry all the time?' Harry said as he leant back against the pillar behind him. Even in this crowded space he seemed right at home.

'She's a homosexual now.'

'I heard that. Ron thought it thinks I should try and catch up with her at some point. I on the other hand think he's just being sick as usual…'

'Ronald could never be sick minded. He was probably concerned about questions you might have about your ability as a man. If one girlfriend can turn then there's no saying the others won't.' Luna said matter-of-factly.

There was silence as Harry stared at her.

'Shut up Luna!'