Don't like? Don't read, don't complain. Flames shall be used to roast marshmallows, thank you.

1064 hits last count! Wee-hee i'm so happie. then why did I only get two reviews :pouts: not fair! oh well, i'm grateful ppl are readin' this, neway.

I wouldn't have killed James or Lily; I would've let Voldemort kill Harry & then have Prongs have a go at him. I wouldn't have sorted Ginevra into Gryffindor & I wouldn't have made the twins leave school. But she did. Any questions?

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"Have you managed to rise yourself out of your stupor?" Ginny said demurely as she smirked as she returned and took a seat across from Blaise. She looked smug as she accepted her food plate from the unobtrusive waiter and nodded her thanks.

"Feeling a bit snide, aren't we, Ginevra?" Blaise addressed casually, not even acknowledging that he was being served except for the dismissing wave of his hand as their food was settled into the table. He had outright laughed as she had disappeared into the ladies' room. She had made him walk right into it, and that by itself was quite a feat. He enjoyed her company very much.

"Is there a reason I should?" she asked innocently as she primly cut her steak. In a vain effort to hold her smile she sipped her wine, but found Blaise's eyes on her every movement. "Well, you did fall right into it, you can't exactly blame me for feeling a bit proud," she defended warmly. "Besides, it was nice seeing you stare," she chuckled. At least she had managed to divert his attention from the topic at hand. Maybe she wouldn't have to skive off his questions today. She wasn't exactly all revved up in anticipation. Besides, she needed more time to prepare her answers, make them airtight so she wouldn't slip some inadequate comment that would just wind up Blaise more.

"Well, a man can't really help himself," Blaise replied carelessly.

"Yes, well a gentleman could," she drawled right back as she patted the quirking corners of her mouth with the soft napkin.

"Are you implying that I'm no gentleman?" he asked in mock indignation as he looked at her with swirling green eyes.

"I'm not implying anything, love, I'm telling you," she replied sweetly.

"Well," Blaise paused deliberately as if in profound concentration, but his eyes were dancing with merriment. "For once you're right, Ginevra." She raised her eyebrows in clear surprise at his acknowledgement, as she had clearly been expecting a rebuttal from his part. "A gentleman wouldn't remember just how marvellously round your arse is, or that you make some delightful little whimpering sounds when they're nipping at your ear and—" he stopped his listing murmuring at her sharp intake of breath. Oh, he could see the flush creeping to her cheeks.

"Shut up, Blaise," she muttered, ducking her face to stop her blush from showing. A futile thing to do, since Blaise had already seen the spreading stain on her cheeks. "And let me tell you that I do not make whimpering noises when they nibble at my ear!" she exclaimed a bit too loudly after a moment's beat. Conversation at the nearby tables ceased and everyone turned to look at her with unbelievable gazes. They were, after all, in a public place and Blaise appeared to be quite aware of the fact as he was the only one sporting a huge grin. Ginny just cursed and drowned her face into her hands.

"I hate you, Zabini," she muttered against her fingers.

"I'm done, are you, Ginevra dear?" he asked as he ignored her last comment with an air of indifference. He really tried to keep the mischievous tone from his voice, but the grin on his face betrayed him as he extended his hand to help Ginny out of her seat. She accepted it reluctantly, muttering something about "trapping Slytherins" and "cheeky bastards" along the way.

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"Well Shakes?"

Draco was seated comfortably in his study, lying back with his feet propped in his incredibly expensive mahogany desk carved with snakes. His eyes were shrewd as he observed the man that was standing firmly on the doorway; feet planted firmly apart, hands clasped in front of him, eyes staring straight ahead, his incredible bulk obscuring the view of the hall. Augustine Shakes was a large man with non-descript brown whitening hair and a face that was too easily forgotten. His eyes were small, watery brown in colour, set deep inside a face that contained too many haggard planes, easily mapped by the passing of time, to which his mouth was a stout adversary. Thin lips that were always resolutely set in a grim expression were upon a strong, albeit struggling chin. His brows were bristly and long, serving as a ceiling for his beady eyes. It was not a face that you remembered for long, nor did you wish to remember, which was one of the main reasons Draco had found a use for him for so many years even after all the insolence the man managed to display. The man was cunning in the most discreet way, he covered his tracks well and he did his job in the shortest time possible, always reaping the wanted results. That was the reason why Draco was getting impatient. Shakes had never failed to bring him information within the week, and this case was the exception.

"I assume you have something to report, or else, you wouldn't even dare set a foot inside my Manor. I gave explicit orders to not be interrupted, but you appeared to be quite insistent. I take it you have something relevant for me, then?" he started, straight to the point. There was no time to waste. If Shakes indeed had some information—and the only information he wanted from him was a fucking name—then his plan could start its motion.

"Indeed, sir."

Draco didn't like the emphasis he put on the word sir. Something was up this guy's arse, and it was getting to the limit of Draco's rather shallow patience. Arching an eyebrow he decided to let that one pass. He was too anxious for the information to spend the time reprimanding an underdog that was getting too insolent. He could always do that later. Later when he had already toppled that journalist's career. When everything was returned to normality and he had returned to be the favourite bachelor of Witch Weekly and obscure family secrets were kept that way: obscure and secrets.

"Well?" His patience had never been on the high level and it seemed that Shakes was willing to try him to see just how far he would be able to go without a single reprimand or harsh word thrown in for good measure. Well, today was not a good day for that. It had been a horrible week and Draco was about to snap at him to get his arse in motion, but Shakes proved a mind-reader since he took out a manila envelope from thin air and threw it casually at Draco's desk, sliding to a stop just beside his feet.

"You can see for yourself, sir." And with that, the insolent man walked away, leaving a torn Draco behind. Torn between devouring the whole envelope that contained precious information or going after him and beating his arse into a bloody pulp. The former being the one that proved more reason he decided to ignore the latter.

He would deal with Shakes later.

Later.

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"So would you mind discussing that brilliant little plan of yours now?" Ginny asked as she strolled down the streets of Diagon Alley arm in arm with Blaise Zabini. After her embarrassing exit out of that restaurant she had needed a time to cool down before she planted a blow to his crotch.

"You cooled down already?" he asked with an amused chuckle.

"It was not funny, let me assure you, Zabini," she all but growled as she continued looking straight ahead, smiling pleasantly at the passers-by. "You do realize that I hate you, don't you?" she asked sweetly as she waved at a small girl that was walking by with her mother.

"I'm sorry to be the one to break this to you Ginevra, but I did absolutely nothing. You were the one who hanged herself."

"Oh I know that's true, Zabini. You were just kind enough to place the noose against my unaware throat," she retorted.

"Stop whining, Ginevra," he answered good-naturedly. "We're supposed to be spending a good time and you're positively ruining it." Ginny scoffed as she hit him on the arm. "I hadn't noticed how utterly feminine you are, love," he drawled.

"Oh shut up." Ginny told him as she shoved him another one for good measure. "You're just being a nasty bugger, and you know it," she sniffed in indignation.

"Well, I have never known a nice bugger," he commented innocently and right out laughed when he saw that Ginny had narrowed her eyes and was glaring at him, a scowl marring her precious lips. Oh, it just was too easy to get this one riled up. She sure did live up to her redhead prestige.

Then, surprisingly, she calmed down. Her blue eyes returned to their normal size and a sweet smile replaced the scowl in a matter of milliseconds. Arching an eyebrow at her bipolarity he let it pass without comment as they continued their pleasant walk down Memory Lane. As they rounded a corner, unexpectedly her grip on his arm tightened painfully, surprising Blaise into a stop, his eyes immediately scanning her face for any sign of intense pain from her part as she had stopped rather abruptly, but received a nasty shock as her rather long nails dug into his tender flesh and the sweet smile returned in full force as he hissed in pain and wildly shook her hand out of his arm.

"What was that? Couldn't quite catch it, dear," she said innocently with a happy smile on her face. Narrowing his eyes and pursing his lips he just took her hand in his and continued their stroll, uninterrupted. "Well?" she asked after an interminable silence between them and the lane didn't seem to end. "Aren't you going to tell me the whole point of this outing? You're supposed to have a plan!" she pouted as she stomped her feet like a child.

"How positively charming," he commented as he watched her throw a tantrum in the middle of the street.

"Do you want any more marks, Zabini?"

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"Go and interview the bastard?" she screeched. Pigeons flew away, startled out of their calm pecking by the incredibly loud voice that boomed out of that petite body. She started pacing in front of the bench they were seating on in the Nicholas Flamel Park, her hands gesticulating wildly in the air. "Are you insane? Holy fuck, you must be. I would kill the prick, do you wish him dead?" She emphasized the word dead with a slicing motion at her throat with her index finger. "Believe me, if I see the arse he would end up in Mungo's with a treatment for incurable hexing and physical impossibilitation of procreation."

"Impossibilitation," he repeated with a sceptically arched eyebrow, looking at the show the small witch was presenting. "Dear, I'm not sure if that word exists," he said neutrally as he was getting dizzy from her pacing.

"Doesn't matter." She waved her hand dismissively. "Are you insane?" she repeated as she stood planted in front of him, her small hands at her hips, feet wide apart.

"Yes, I'm afraid that's a possibility," he confirmed with a curt nod. "But I gather that's the only plausible thing for you to do at this moment and recover your job. Because you do want your job, don't you?" he asked.

"Of course I do, I love writing," she said honestly as she collapsed beside him. "It's just that it doesn't sound—reasonable."

"I know it doesn't, Ginevra, but think about it. Do you have any other plan at the moment? You're penniless, jobless and irate. I believe that's quite a problem for you, for anyone," he said simply. And she sighed and rubbed her face.

"It seems like it, doesn't it?" she asked with a weak smile.

"But I'm offering you a solution that, once you think about it, doesn't seem as unreasonable as it first appears to be. Think about it. Gloria fired you because you didn't present an article about Draco's reaction to your own article, though of course she doesn't know that, but that's beside the point, and if you do present one with an exclusive interview with him she's bound to take you back. Hell, maybe you can even sell her the article. Maybe you can even interview me, as his best friend I'm bound to have an opinion."

"Like you're important at the moment," Ginny snorted.

"I'm just as sexy as Draco Malfoy, let me assure you. Gloria would love to have a wall-sized picture of me on the nude; I know that for a fact. The commodities of eavesdropping, you know," he commented wistfully.

"Ew, I believe you just shared too much information, Zabini," she commented as she wrinkled her nose and he shrugged.

"You can technically do whatever you want, love, so?" he prodded mildly.

"Do I really have another option?" she asked with a glare.

"So much for gratitude," he snorted. "You're such a harpy." His comment was received with a whack at the back of his head.

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natters-nutters: Short but sweet. You can't say no. Don't worry, this is not all. It just felt right to end it there, but inspiration wasn't cut short or anything. I was just eager to update more. It had been so long since I had taken care of this story that I believe it deserves it. Am I going too slow? I think I am, because after nine chapters I still haven't gotten anywhere. But oh well. Hope you enjoyed this. Please review? I would love to know what you think of this story. Oh, and mem0ry, as always. Thanks a million. This chapter goes to you, of course. Such a faithful reader.

Ta.

always & forever,

°Gyn