♥ "Saturday" for blithelybonny ♥
Title: Saturday
Author: butterfly_kate
Rating: PG-13
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: This is EWE, but I don’t think there are any concrete DH spoilers in here. There’s quite a bit of swearing.
Author's Notes: I hope the recipient likes this: I didn’t manage to focus on the trashy stories as much as I really wanted to, but I hope you like it nevertheless.
Summary: In order to become editor-in-chief of Fiendfyre, Draco and Ginny must compete to get cover stories. On the final Saturday of the competition, Draco decides all bets are off and Ginny can’t quite live up to her own morals.
Saturday
Ginny 1:0 Draco
‘You know you’ve opened a whole can of worms with this don’t you, Callaghan? This place could go to the dogs - even more so than it has already.’
Robert Callaghan looked up, having not heard anyone enter his office. He was most dismayed to see his greatest enemy and his best friend standing before him. He put down the parchment he had been perusing and surveyed the woman with some scepticism.
‘I’ll take your opinion into account, Rita, certainly.’ She seated herself in the chair on the other side of his desk, her perpetually sly smile playing her features. ‘I’m just not quite sure why you’ve come all the way to my office to give it.’
‘I heard about your little scheme at lunch and as I was passing, I thought I’d come over and admonish you for it.’
‘I think it makes perfect sense,’ said Callaghan, earnestly. ‘I want to make sure that when I leave the job goes to the best person possible.’ He sat back in his chair, confident, but knowing Rita would always have a slew of reasons as to why any decision he made was the wrong one.
‘First of all, putting a Weasley or a Malfoy in charge of the magazine could kill it anyway. They’re too polarising. Secondly, I’ve seen these kids and I’ve read their stuff. They write well. But good writing isn’t the cornerstone of your job; obviously, else you wouldn’t have lasted so long. Do you really think they can cut it?’
‘I do.’ They were both Callaghan’s protégées; he couldn’t choose. He believed that this was the best way to decide who would take his place when he left to write his book. This would be the best way to find the person to take Fiendfyre forward.
‘Well at some point over the next three months the gloves are going to come off. It may all be Harry Potter at Home and Pansy Parkinson’s Sex Tips at the moment, but they’ll soon see how to get ahead. They’ll start playing dirty.’
‘I’m counting on it, Rita. Do you really think I’d want anything else for this magazine?’
‘But you don’t want them to bring one another down, do you? Because that’s what’s going to happen.’
‘I think you’ll be surprised.’
She gave him a long stare, as if waiting for him to break, then when he gave no sign of speaking, got up.
‘Don’t expect me to be on hand with the Merlot, Brie and a shoulder to cry on this time, Callaghan.’ He couldn’t help but smile at the memories, which she would inevitably see as weakness. ‘You’re on your own.’
He sighed as she closed the office door behind her. This would have to be the right decision; there weren’t any other options available to him.
***
‘Life. Is. Perfect.’
Ginny laid back on the grass, the last of the summer on her skin feeling like bliss. If it began to rain though, she wouldn’t care. Today was perfect; everything was going exactly according to plan. She was on top of the world, feeling a happiness that she’d never really enjoyed before, for it was completely self-indulgent.
‘I don’t know how you put up with my brother, Hermione, I really don’t,’ she said, turning her head to glance at her friend who lay to her right.
‘It’s not as bad as you might think. It definitely has its perks.’
‘Yes,’ chimed in Luna from the left. ‘I daresay the sexual intercourse does rather make up for the loss of time to one’s self.’
‘Thanks for that, Luna. I really appreciate how the pair of you manage to bring my brothers’ sex lives into as many conversations as possible. And my parents’ too. Great stuff.’
‘Hey, you brought up my relationship with Ron. You were on shaky ground there already.’
‘True.’ To be fair to Hermione, Luna had a penchant for discussing the Weasley brothers sex lives and giving Ginny cause to regret her breakfast. But with Luna it was never limited to her brothers and it was never limited to sex. That’s why Ginny loved her; she was unafraid to just say whatever she thought. Ginny couldn’t just say what was on her mind. Sure, she was a so-called fiery redhead. She could let go and rant about anything and everything, but she had her limits. She couldn’t just speak without fear.
Hermione, on the other hand, kept almost all of her thoughts to herself, she had only begun to open up to Ginny and Luna properly in the last couple of years; she still wasn’t very good at expressing emotions. She’d spent so long on facts that though she understood emotions probably better than anyone Ginny knew, she couldn’t quite articulate her own as well as she could those of others. Sometimes, Ginny felt like she was the centre of the scales, balancing Luna and Hermione on either end. Still, no matter the way the world perceived them or the way that they interacted with it, the three of them fit together perfectly. It was the safest space in the world for each of them, when they met up, a place to just be themselves and not worry about what boyfriends or bosses or parents thought of their comments. It was like a perpetual sleepover, but one that came ten years too late.
‘I’m beginning to think this is pointless, Gin,’ said Hermione.
‘What is?’
‘This is probably the last vaguely sunny day of the year. If we didn’t get tanned all summer; it’s not going to happen now. I mean, look at us, we all look like snow as it is.’
‘You’re right.’ She sat up and looked around. The park was busy, but most people didn’t seem to have had the same idea to take a last ditch attempt at tanning. ‘Luna?’
‘Agreed.’
‘Then it’s settled,’ said Hermione, getting to her feet and brushing down her skirt and legs. ‘Anything stuck to me?’
‘You’re good,’ said Ginny, repeating her friend’s motions. ‘Fancy a drink?’
It wasn’t a far to the nearest pub from the park, though it seemed to take forever to find somewhere with a free space in the beer garden. When finally they were seated and she could pour them each a glass of Pimms (‘Tastes like summer!’ remarked Luna), Ginny decided to propose a toast.
‘To a great start,’ she said, raising her glass. The others obliged too, before Ginny continued: ‘To my promotion.’
‘There’s a long way to go yet, Gin. Don’t get complacent,’ said Hermione. ‘Malfoy’s not going to give in after week one. You know what he’s like as it is, never mind when he’s stumbled at the first hurdle.’
‘I know, I know. I just feel really good about this. All I need is seven covers over three months.’ She grinned. ‘But I want more than that. I want to destroy him.’
‘Well I think that there are much more efficient ways of doing that, Ginny,’ said Luna. ‘I mean, I could whip up a small potion that would-’
‘Save it, Luna. I’m doing this fair and square. He’s going to know that he’s lost not because of magic, but because I’m better, pure and simple.’
***
‘Fuck,’ said Draco, his head in his hands. He didn’t dare look at his drinking companion’s face, assuming it would be full of the mockery he deserved. ‘I mean fuck. I can’t believe she beat me with Potter’s bloody shitting house. Fuck.’
‘I’m sensing your confidence may have dropped quite considerably, Draco.’
‘Fuck you, Blaise.’
‘Do you want some more whiskey?’
Draco looked up, feebly holding out his glass. It was three o’clock on a Friday afternoon and here he was, sat in the library of his parents’ home, with the one person who seemed equipped to get him completely rat-arsed without any remorse.
‘Pansy is going to kill me, isn’t she?’
‘Probably,’ said Blaise. ‘She acted like the slag everyone likes to think she is and didn’t even make the cover. That torch she’s got burning for you looks likely to go out.’
‘Well, there’s that I suppose.’
‘That’s not supposed to be an up side.’
‘No?’ Honestly, up could be down and vice versa and he wouldn’t be able to tell at this point. The results were in and he’d lost round one. Weasley was going to be insufferable. He didn’t think he was going to be able to pull it off. She would be editor-in-chief of Fiendfyre, and he’d be relegated to writing the photo captions. ‘I just can’t believe I lost.’
‘You lost round one, Draco,’ said Blaise, patting him lightly on the shoulder. ‘Besides, be honest, were you really trying?’
‘A little.’
‘I don’t know much about losing, but I know that round one of twelve isn’t something to get absolutely cauldroned over.’
‘I’m not that drunk,’ said Draco, even as the room lurched before him.
‘Sure.’ At once, they sighed. ‘Let’s get you a top up. But something that makes you happier than whiskey. You need to be on your game for round two.’
‘Yes,’ Draco nodded, ‘I’ll get on my game. I’ll take her down. I’ll get the bitch.’
He slumped back in his armchair, the upholstery caressing his cheek. He couldn’t see Blaise anymore and he was grateful for it, considering the state that he was in (not that he’d admit he was in any kind of state at all, of course). Today, he would wallow. Tomorrow, he would come back stronger.
***
Ginny 6:6 Draco
This was, it had to be said, the last chance saloon. It was less than a week until their final stories had to be in, less than a week until the winner was declared and the new editor-in-chief of Fiendfyre was revealed. If he was going to be redecorating Callaghan’s office as his own for Christmas, if he was going to get a story, it’d be about one of the people in the room with him at that moment. He didn’t feel great about that, but he had to do what he had to do. He and Ginny were two of the only journalists in the country to get into this party; he’d be a fool to waste it. He needed this promotion. It’d be the height of embarrassment if he lost.
‘I know that look. Don’t even think about it.’
And there was the little Weasley herself. He didn’t think she could possibly look any sexier in that dress, but he’d gone and made her angry.
‘What?’
‘There are times and places to get stories. This is not one of them.’
‘And the fact that you think that Ginny, means that you’ve just lost the job.’ Draco was more than used to Ginny’s lectures about his morals since they’d started working together three years previously. Of course there were times that she was right, like last year -
‘This is like last year’s Christmas party. But worse. And who was right about the Christmas party?’
‘The fact that Callaghan was snogging Skeeter under the mistletoe was a completely legitimate story.’
‘A story that would have got you fired, had you written it.’
‘I love it when you’re pissed off at me, Weasley.’ She arched an eyebrow at him. ‘It’s something about the way you stand with your hands on your hips. Exquisite.’
‘Shut up, Malfoy,’ said Ginny, taking a champagne glass from a passing waiter. ‘Let’s just agree not to get any stories tonight.’
‘Sorry. Can’t do it.’ He waited for her response, but she seemed too angry to make one. ‘I suppose I just want the job more than you do.’
***
Ginny watched Malfoy walk away. She was seething as he cut in and began dancing with Parvati Patil, of all people. She had better watch out. Draco had always had a weakness for pretty brunettes.
Speaking of which, Hermione was crossing the dance floor, making a beeline for Ginny. She smiled, thankful for her presence; Hermione was always the best antidote whenever Ginny was pissed off with a man.
‘Having a good time?’ Hermione asked as she drew nearer.
‘Of course.’
‘You don’t look too pleased with Mr. Malfoy over there…’ He’d moved on to Fleur now. Ginny rolled her eyes and sighed.
‘No - he wants to get a story. I think it would be in bad taste.’
Hermione nodded. ‘Angelina said he was asking funny questions. I told her to wait until he was drunk and then give him funny answers.’
‘An inebriated and single-minded Draco, just what we need.’
‘I’m surprised you’ve not been filling up his glass more often; it would eliminate the competition, wouldn’t it?’ Hermione was grinning and Ginny couldn’t help but join her.
‘It would. But I’m going to get my winning cover elsewhere. Tonight is my night off.’
‘Don’t lie. You never take a night off.’
‘So I’m keeping my ears open. That’s not so wrong, is it?’ asked Ginny honestly. Just because she wasn’t going to get a story here, didn’t mean she couldn’t keep listening for something that could come in handy later.
Ron appeared at Hermione’s side, his hand slipping around her waist. ‘Care to dance?’ he asked. She nodded.
‘You and Draco,’ she said, ‘it’s six of one and half a dozen of the other.’
‘I’m counting on it,’ replied Ginny.
She put her drink down on the nearest table and headed out to the balcony. She needed a cigarette. Big events like this were so easy to handle when she was there as a journalist, but difficult when she wasn’t. It was easy to be herself but make everything about other people; it was hard when their eyes were on her.
As she exhaled for the final time and put out her cigarette, she heard the door close quietly behind her. Looking around, she saw Draco smiling sheepishly.
‘I’m sorry I said I wanted the job more than you,’ he said. ‘I know that’s not true.’
‘No, it’s not. And thank you for the apology.’
He came and stood next to her, peering out at the gardens. Ginny loved the way that it glistened with the frost, how haunted the trees looked without any leaves and how crisp the still December air felt on her skin.
‘I’m not giving up, though. I’m not taking the night off because you told me to.’
‘I didn’t think that you would,’ said Ginny. It wasn’t as though she was in charge; they were competing as equals, after all. ‘I’m not taking the night off completely, either. I’ll listen out for things - but family is out of bounds.’
‘That sounds fair enough,’ Draco nodded. Even as she surveyed the grounds before her, she could feel his eyes on her; eventually she tilted her head in order to give him a wry look. ‘Have I mentioned you look like an angel?’
‘Draco, don’t - I’m trying to be annoyed.’
He ignored her and as his lips met hers, she was glad. It was like a little spot of sunshine in the middle of winter. As Draco broke away - all too soon - Ginny let out a contented sigh.
They stood silently, smiling stupidly until the balcony door opened again; it was Hermione this time. She smiled apologetically. Ginny could feel her face getting hotter (inevitably, it would have gone red).
‘You’re wanted inside,’ she said, before quickly retreating.
Ginny glanced at Draco. He looked as nervous as she felt.
‘Do we have to go in?’ she asked.
‘I think so.’
‘We should have eloped.’ She half meant it. Draco nodded.
‘It would have given both of our mothers something to argue over.’
‘They do love to do that,’ Ginny agreed. Hermione appeared at the door again. ‘We’re coming, Hermione.’ She took Draco by the hand and led him inside, across the room to the dance floor and the music began.
‘First dance. This is insane,’ Draco said as he rested a hand on her waist.
‘If we’re going to get technical,’ said Ginny, ‘then this is our second dance.’ Draco looked at her quizzically. ‘I do recall that we danced at the office Christmas party last year; Luna said it was when she knew for certain something was going on.’
‘Luna was at the party?’
‘She was my plus one. Were you really that drunk?’
‘I suppose so,’ Draco shrugged. ‘We’ve never danced before or since then?’
‘Nope.’
‘But - we go out. We go out all the time.’
‘We work, or I dance with my mates and you stand at the bar taking the piss out of me. It’s not a problem, I just thought I’d point it out.’ She kissed him gently on the lips to prove her point, before remembering they were in public and retreating a little. ‘We should probably look at one another adoringly so Mum can get some pictures, instead of talking.’
‘Yes,’ said Draco. He smiled at her in a certain way that he sometimes did; she loved it, but in this moment it drove her insane. He was challenging her.
‘Stop it,’ she said.
‘You just can’t keep quiet for a moment, can you, Weasley?’
‘No, I can’t. And if you’re going to call me anything, I’d appreciate it if you went for Ginny, or even Mrs. Malfoy. Weasley isn’t my name anymore.’
‘That’s why I’m going to keep calling you that,’ he said, in a low voice. ‘I’m keeping it.’
‘I can’t believe I’ve married such a moron.’
‘I can’t believe you’ve married such a moron either, if I’m honest.’ She wanted to kiss him. Oh how she wanted to kiss him.
‘Stop trying to charm me, Malfoy, it won’t work.’
‘It’s a bit late for that, isn’t it?’
People were joining them on the dance floor now and the flashes of cameras were becoming less frequent. Screw it; she was going to kiss him.
***
Draco had received the ‘if you hurt my sister I’ll kill you’ talk multiple times that morning (twice from Ron), but as Ginny ferociously kissed him, it was more than worth it. For one thing, she was made of fire and when she kissed him it was like he came alive. For another, it showed the aforementioned brothers that she was much more likely to break his heart than the other way around.
After she had calmed down a bit, Ginny looked at him thoughtfully. She wanted to say something, but she was worried that putting it in the wrong way would piss him off. He’d seen her mentally edit herself like this a lot early on in their relationship.
‘What?’ he asked, finally.
‘People keep telling me that competing for the same job will destroy us. We’re supposed to be happy newlyweds, not trying to take one another down for the sake of a trashy magazine.’
Draco thought about this for a moment. She was right, of course. But the fact was that their relationship didn’t work by the normal rules relationships were supposed to work by.
‘It’d destroy most people,’ he agreed. ‘But honestly, it just makes me more convinced that you’re the woman for me.’
She grinned. ‘Same here. If I can’t beat the crap out of my own husband, then who can I?’
‘Your friend Potter could do with a good beating. What about him?’
‘Don’t start.’ She wasn’t angry with him, which was a relief - it had been quite a risky comment for the sake of a joke. It was inevitable that they’d argue like cats and dogs all day (as with any other day) but a blazing row over her ex-boyfriend he could certainly do without.
At last though, Ginny seemed to tire of dancing, or at least of talking on the dance floor, as she led him back to their table, where two wonderfully filled champagne flutes were waiting. Draco wondered if this was what marriage was going to be like; Ginny leading him round by the hand, without him thinking about it. He doubted it. She wouldn’t stand for that.
‘So we’re not quitting, then?’ Draco asked as they sat down.
‘The competition? No. Well, you can if you want, but I’m bloody not.’
‘I would hate our marriage to be defined by the fact that I kicked your arse so early on in it.’
She raised a single eyebrow. It was everything he could do not to just pick her up and take her upstairs right then. She knew what he was like when it came to her and her eyebrow raising.
‘First of all, even if you were to win, we’re even at the last hurdle - both on six - there’d be no arse-kicking about it.’ She wouldn’t be saying that if she won. ‘Second - I deserve the job much more than you do.’
‘You do not.’
She ignored him, which he loved. ‘Do you want to go upstairs for a bit?’ she asked. Draco realised that the eyebrow was less about winding him up and more a means to her own ends.
‘I think that’d be a good idea,’ he said, sipping casually at his champagne. ‘I’ve got a few games we could play. You know, to put you in the competitive mood for the week ahead.’
‘Then here’s to a Malfoy editor-in-chief,’ said Ginny, raising her glass. Draco returned her devilish grin and raised his own.
‘Chin chin.’
ORIGINAL REQUEST:
Briefly describe what you'd like to receive in your fic: Draco and Ginny both work for a trashy tabloid magazine, and they are constantly trying to one up each other on who has the best, trashiest, most outrageous scandal or story.
The tone/mood of the fic: humorous and romantic
An element/line of dialogue/object you would like in your fic: reference to a drunken snog under the mistletoe at last year's office Christmas party, either between the two of them or that they witnessed together
Preferred rating of the the fic you want: Teen to Mature Adult, and if you go for Mature Adult not too explicitly smutty, although some smut is fine
Canon or AU? Either, but if you're going AU then please keep the characterizations as close to canon as possible
Deal Breakers (anything you don't want?): character death, extreme kink, angst, the epilogue
Author: butterfly_kate
Rating: PG-13
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: This is EWE, but I don’t think there are any concrete DH spoilers in here. There’s quite a bit of swearing.
Author's Notes: I hope the recipient likes this: I didn’t manage to focus on the trashy stories as much as I really wanted to, but I hope you like it nevertheless.
Summary: In order to become editor-in-chief of Fiendfyre, Draco and Ginny must compete to get cover stories. On the final Saturday of the competition, Draco decides all bets are off and Ginny can’t quite live up to her own morals.
Saturday
Ginny 1:0 Draco
‘You know you’ve opened a whole can of worms with this don’t you, Callaghan? This place could go to the dogs - even more so than it has already.’
Robert Callaghan looked up, having not heard anyone enter his office. He was most dismayed to see his greatest enemy and his best friend standing before him. He put down the parchment he had been perusing and surveyed the woman with some scepticism.
‘I’ll take your opinion into account, Rita, certainly.’ She seated herself in the chair on the other side of his desk, her perpetually sly smile playing her features. ‘I’m just not quite sure why you’ve come all the way to my office to give it.’
‘I heard about your little scheme at lunch and as I was passing, I thought I’d come over and admonish you for it.’
‘I think it makes perfect sense,’ said Callaghan, earnestly. ‘I want to make sure that when I leave the job goes to the best person possible.’ He sat back in his chair, confident, but knowing Rita would always have a slew of reasons as to why any decision he made was the wrong one.
‘First of all, putting a Weasley or a Malfoy in charge of the magazine could kill it anyway. They’re too polarising. Secondly, I’ve seen these kids and I’ve read their stuff. They write well. But good writing isn’t the cornerstone of your job; obviously, else you wouldn’t have lasted so long. Do you really think they can cut it?’
‘I do.’ They were both Callaghan’s protégées; he couldn’t choose. He believed that this was the best way to decide who would take his place when he left to write his book. This would be the best way to find the person to take Fiendfyre forward.
‘Well at some point over the next three months the gloves are going to come off. It may all be Harry Potter at Home and Pansy Parkinson’s Sex Tips at the moment, but they’ll soon see how to get ahead. They’ll start playing dirty.’
‘I’m counting on it, Rita. Do you really think I’d want anything else for this magazine?’
‘But you don’t want them to bring one another down, do you? Because that’s what’s going to happen.’
‘I think you’ll be surprised.’
She gave him a long stare, as if waiting for him to break, then when he gave no sign of speaking, got up.
‘Don’t expect me to be on hand with the Merlot, Brie and a shoulder to cry on this time, Callaghan.’ He couldn’t help but smile at the memories, which she would inevitably see as weakness. ‘You’re on your own.’
He sighed as she closed the office door behind her. This would have to be the right decision; there weren’t any other options available to him.
***
‘Life. Is. Perfect.’
Ginny laid back on the grass, the last of the summer on her skin feeling like bliss. If it began to rain though, she wouldn’t care. Today was perfect; everything was going exactly according to plan. She was on top of the world, feeling a happiness that she’d never really enjoyed before, for it was completely self-indulgent.
‘I don’t know how you put up with my brother, Hermione, I really don’t,’ she said, turning her head to glance at her friend who lay to her right.
‘It’s not as bad as you might think. It definitely has its perks.’
‘Yes,’ chimed in Luna from the left. ‘I daresay the sexual intercourse does rather make up for the loss of time to one’s self.’
‘Thanks for that, Luna. I really appreciate how the pair of you manage to bring my brothers’ sex lives into as many conversations as possible. And my parents’ too. Great stuff.’
‘Hey, you brought up my relationship with Ron. You were on shaky ground there already.’
‘True.’ To be fair to Hermione, Luna had a penchant for discussing the Weasley brothers sex lives and giving Ginny cause to regret her breakfast. But with Luna it was never limited to her brothers and it was never limited to sex. That’s why Ginny loved her; she was unafraid to just say whatever she thought. Ginny couldn’t just say what was on her mind. Sure, she was a so-called fiery redhead. She could let go and rant about anything and everything, but she had her limits. She couldn’t just speak without fear.
Hermione, on the other hand, kept almost all of her thoughts to herself, she had only begun to open up to Ginny and Luna properly in the last couple of years; she still wasn’t very good at expressing emotions. She’d spent so long on facts that though she understood emotions probably better than anyone Ginny knew, she couldn’t quite articulate her own as well as she could those of others. Sometimes, Ginny felt like she was the centre of the scales, balancing Luna and Hermione on either end. Still, no matter the way the world perceived them or the way that they interacted with it, the three of them fit together perfectly. It was the safest space in the world for each of them, when they met up, a place to just be themselves and not worry about what boyfriends or bosses or parents thought of their comments. It was like a perpetual sleepover, but one that came ten years too late.
‘I’m beginning to think this is pointless, Gin,’ said Hermione.
‘What is?’
‘This is probably the last vaguely sunny day of the year. If we didn’t get tanned all summer; it’s not going to happen now. I mean, look at us, we all look like snow as it is.’
‘You’re right.’ She sat up and looked around. The park was busy, but most people didn’t seem to have had the same idea to take a last ditch attempt at tanning. ‘Luna?’
‘Agreed.’
‘Then it’s settled,’ said Hermione, getting to her feet and brushing down her skirt and legs. ‘Anything stuck to me?’
‘You’re good,’ said Ginny, repeating her friend’s motions. ‘Fancy a drink?’
It wasn’t a far to the nearest pub from the park, though it seemed to take forever to find somewhere with a free space in the beer garden. When finally they were seated and she could pour them each a glass of Pimms (‘Tastes like summer!’ remarked Luna), Ginny decided to propose a toast.
‘To a great start,’ she said, raising her glass. The others obliged too, before Ginny continued: ‘To my promotion.’
‘There’s a long way to go yet, Gin. Don’t get complacent,’ said Hermione. ‘Malfoy’s not going to give in after week one. You know what he’s like as it is, never mind when he’s stumbled at the first hurdle.’
‘I know, I know. I just feel really good about this. All I need is seven covers over three months.’ She grinned. ‘But I want more than that. I want to destroy him.’
‘Well I think that there are much more efficient ways of doing that, Ginny,’ said Luna. ‘I mean, I could whip up a small potion that would-’
‘Save it, Luna. I’m doing this fair and square. He’s going to know that he’s lost not because of magic, but because I’m better, pure and simple.’
***
‘Fuck,’ said Draco, his head in his hands. He didn’t dare look at his drinking companion’s face, assuming it would be full of the mockery he deserved. ‘I mean fuck. I can’t believe she beat me with Potter’s bloody shitting house. Fuck.’
‘I’m sensing your confidence may have dropped quite considerably, Draco.’
‘Fuck you, Blaise.’
‘Do you want some more whiskey?’
Draco looked up, feebly holding out his glass. It was three o’clock on a Friday afternoon and here he was, sat in the library of his parents’ home, with the one person who seemed equipped to get him completely rat-arsed without any remorse.
‘Pansy is going to kill me, isn’t she?’
‘Probably,’ said Blaise. ‘She acted like the slag everyone likes to think she is and didn’t even make the cover. That torch she’s got burning for you looks likely to go out.’
‘Well, there’s that I suppose.’
‘That’s not supposed to be an up side.’
‘No?’ Honestly, up could be down and vice versa and he wouldn’t be able to tell at this point. The results were in and he’d lost round one. Weasley was going to be insufferable. He didn’t think he was going to be able to pull it off. She would be editor-in-chief of Fiendfyre, and he’d be relegated to writing the photo captions. ‘I just can’t believe I lost.’
‘You lost round one, Draco,’ said Blaise, patting him lightly on the shoulder. ‘Besides, be honest, were you really trying?’
‘A little.’
‘I don’t know much about losing, but I know that round one of twelve isn’t something to get absolutely cauldroned over.’
‘I’m not that drunk,’ said Draco, even as the room lurched before him.
‘Sure.’ At once, they sighed. ‘Let’s get you a top up. But something that makes you happier than whiskey. You need to be on your game for round two.’
‘Yes,’ Draco nodded, ‘I’ll get on my game. I’ll take her down. I’ll get the bitch.’
He slumped back in his armchair, the upholstery caressing his cheek. He couldn’t see Blaise anymore and he was grateful for it, considering the state that he was in (not that he’d admit he was in any kind of state at all, of course). Today, he would wallow. Tomorrow, he would come back stronger.
***
Ginny 6:6 Draco
This was, it had to be said, the last chance saloon. It was less than a week until their final stories had to be in, less than a week until the winner was declared and the new editor-in-chief of Fiendfyre was revealed. If he was going to be redecorating Callaghan’s office as his own for Christmas, if he was going to get a story, it’d be about one of the people in the room with him at that moment. He didn’t feel great about that, but he had to do what he had to do. He and Ginny were two of the only journalists in the country to get into this party; he’d be a fool to waste it. He needed this promotion. It’d be the height of embarrassment if he lost.
‘I know that look. Don’t even think about it.’
And there was the little Weasley herself. He didn’t think she could possibly look any sexier in that dress, but he’d gone and made her angry.
‘What?’
‘There are times and places to get stories. This is not one of them.’
‘And the fact that you think that Ginny, means that you’ve just lost the job.’ Draco was more than used to Ginny’s lectures about his morals since they’d started working together three years previously. Of course there were times that she was right, like last year -
‘This is like last year’s Christmas party. But worse. And who was right about the Christmas party?’
‘The fact that Callaghan was snogging Skeeter under the mistletoe was a completely legitimate story.’
‘A story that would have got you fired, had you written it.’
‘I love it when you’re pissed off at me, Weasley.’ She arched an eyebrow at him. ‘It’s something about the way you stand with your hands on your hips. Exquisite.’
‘Shut up, Malfoy,’ said Ginny, taking a champagne glass from a passing waiter. ‘Let’s just agree not to get any stories tonight.’
‘Sorry. Can’t do it.’ He waited for her response, but she seemed too angry to make one. ‘I suppose I just want the job more than you do.’
***
Ginny watched Malfoy walk away. She was seething as he cut in and began dancing with Parvati Patil, of all people. She had better watch out. Draco had always had a weakness for pretty brunettes.
Speaking of which, Hermione was crossing the dance floor, making a beeline for Ginny. She smiled, thankful for her presence; Hermione was always the best antidote whenever Ginny was pissed off with a man.
‘Having a good time?’ Hermione asked as she drew nearer.
‘Of course.’
‘You don’t look too pleased with Mr. Malfoy over there…’ He’d moved on to Fleur now. Ginny rolled her eyes and sighed.
‘No - he wants to get a story. I think it would be in bad taste.’
Hermione nodded. ‘Angelina said he was asking funny questions. I told her to wait until he was drunk and then give him funny answers.’
‘An inebriated and single-minded Draco, just what we need.’
‘I’m surprised you’ve not been filling up his glass more often; it would eliminate the competition, wouldn’t it?’ Hermione was grinning and Ginny couldn’t help but join her.
‘It would. But I’m going to get my winning cover elsewhere. Tonight is my night off.’
‘Don’t lie. You never take a night off.’
‘So I’m keeping my ears open. That’s not so wrong, is it?’ asked Ginny honestly. Just because she wasn’t going to get a story here, didn’t mean she couldn’t keep listening for something that could come in handy later.
Ron appeared at Hermione’s side, his hand slipping around her waist. ‘Care to dance?’ he asked. She nodded.
‘You and Draco,’ she said, ‘it’s six of one and half a dozen of the other.’
‘I’m counting on it,’ replied Ginny.
She put her drink down on the nearest table and headed out to the balcony. She needed a cigarette. Big events like this were so easy to handle when she was there as a journalist, but difficult when she wasn’t. It was easy to be herself but make everything about other people; it was hard when their eyes were on her.
As she exhaled for the final time and put out her cigarette, she heard the door close quietly behind her. Looking around, she saw Draco smiling sheepishly.
‘I’m sorry I said I wanted the job more than you,’ he said. ‘I know that’s not true.’
‘No, it’s not. And thank you for the apology.’
He came and stood next to her, peering out at the gardens. Ginny loved the way that it glistened with the frost, how haunted the trees looked without any leaves and how crisp the still December air felt on her skin.
‘I’m not giving up, though. I’m not taking the night off because you told me to.’
‘I didn’t think that you would,’ said Ginny. It wasn’t as though she was in charge; they were competing as equals, after all. ‘I’m not taking the night off completely, either. I’ll listen out for things - but family is out of bounds.’
‘That sounds fair enough,’ Draco nodded. Even as she surveyed the grounds before her, she could feel his eyes on her; eventually she tilted her head in order to give him a wry look. ‘Have I mentioned you look like an angel?’
‘Draco, don’t - I’m trying to be annoyed.’
He ignored her and as his lips met hers, she was glad. It was like a little spot of sunshine in the middle of winter. As Draco broke away - all too soon - Ginny let out a contented sigh.
They stood silently, smiling stupidly until the balcony door opened again; it was Hermione this time. She smiled apologetically. Ginny could feel her face getting hotter (inevitably, it would have gone red).
‘You’re wanted inside,’ she said, before quickly retreating.
Ginny glanced at Draco. He looked as nervous as she felt.
‘Do we have to go in?’ she asked.
‘I think so.’
‘We should have eloped.’ She half meant it. Draco nodded.
‘It would have given both of our mothers something to argue over.’
‘They do love to do that,’ Ginny agreed. Hermione appeared at the door again. ‘We’re coming, Hermione.’ She took Draco by the hand and led him inside, across the room to the dance floor and the music began.
‘First dance. This is insane,’ Draco said as he rested a hand on her waist.
‘If we’re going to get technical,’ said Ginny, ‘then this is our second dance.’ Draco looked at her quizzically. ‘I do recall that we danced at the office Christmas party last year; Luna said it was when she knew for certain something was going on.’
‘Luna was at the party?’
‘She was my plus one. Were you really that drunk?’
‘I suppose so,’ Draco shrugged. ‘We’ve never danced before or since then?’
‘Nope.’
‘But - we go out. We go out all the time.’
‘We work, or I dance with my mates and you stand at the bar taking the piss out of me. It’s not a problem, I just thought I’d point it out.’ She kissed him gently on the lips to prove her point, before remembering they were in public and retreating a little. ‘We should probably look at one another adoringly so Mum can get some pictures, instead of talking.’
‘Yes,’ said Draco. He smiled at her in a certain way that he sometimes did; she loved it, but in this moment it drove her insane. He was challenging her.
‘Stop it,’ she said.
‘You just can’t keep quiet for a moment, can you, Weasley?’
‘No, I can’t. And if you’re going to call me anything, I’d appreciate it if you went for Ginny, or even Mrs. Malfoy. Weasley isn’t my name anymore.’
‘That’s why I’m going to keep calling you that,’ he said, in a low voice. ‘I’m keeping it.’
‘I can’t believe I’ve married such a moron.’
‘I can’t believe you’ve married such a moron either, if I’m honest.’ She wanted to kiss him. Oh how she wanted to kiss him.
‘Stop trying to charm me, Malfoy, it won’t work.’
‘It’s a bit late for that, isn’t it?’
People were joining them on the dance floor now and the flashes of cameras were becoming less frequent. Screw it; she was going to kiss him.
***
Draco had received the ‘if you hurt my sister I’ll kill you’ talk multiple times that morning (twice from Ron), but as Ginny ferociously kissed him, it was more than worth it. For one thing, she was made of fire and when she kissed him it was like he came alive. For another, it showed the aforementioned brothers that she was much more likely to break his heart than the other way around.
After she had calmed down a bit, Ginny looked at him thoughtfully. She wanted to say something, but she was worried that putting it in the wrong way would piss him off. He’d seen her mentally edit herself like this a lot early on in their relationship.
‘What?’ he asked, finally.
‘People keep telling me that competing for the same job will destroy us. We’re supposed to be happy newlyweds, not trying to take one another down for the sake of a trashy magazine.’
Draco thought about this for a moment. She was right, of course. But the fact was that their relationship didn’t work by the normal rules relationships were supposed to work by.
‘It’d destroy most people,’ he agreed. ‘But honestly, it just makes me more convinced that you’re the woman for me.’
She grinned. ‘Same here. If I can’t beat the crap out of my own husband, then who can I?’
‘Your friend Potter could do with a good beating. What about him?’
‘Don’t start.’ She wasn’t angry with him, which was a relief - it had been quite a risky comment for the sake of a joke. It was inevitable that they’d argue like cats and dogs all day (as with any other day) but a blazing row over her ex-boyfriend he could certainly do without.
At last though, Ginny seemed to tire of dancing, or at least of talking on the dance floor, as she led him back to their table, where two wonderfully filled champagne flutes were waiting. Draco wondered if this was what marriage was going to be like; Ginny leading him round by the hand, without him thinking about it. He doubted it. She wouldn’t stand for that.
‘So we’re not quitting, then?’ Draco asked as they sat down.
‘The competition? No. Well, you can if you want, but I’m bloody not.’
‘I would hate our marriage to be defined by the fact that I kicked your arse so early on in it.’
She raised a single eyebrow. It was everything he could do not to just pick her up and take her upstairs right then. She knew what he was like when it came to her and her eyebrow raising.
‘First of all, even if you were to win, we’re even at the last hurdle - both on six - there’d be no arse-kicking about it.’ She wouldn’t be saying that if she won. ‘Second - I deserve the job much more than you do.’
‘You do not.’
She ignored him, which he loved. ‘Do you want to go upstairs for a bit?’ she asked. Draco realised that the eyebrow was less about winding him up and more a means to her own ends.
‘I think that’d be a good idea,’ he said, sipping casually at his champagne. ‘I’ve got a few games we could play. You know, to put you in the competitive mood for the week ahead.’
‘Then here’s to a Malfoy editor-in-chief,’ said Ginny, raising her glass. Draco returned her devilish grin and raised his own.
‘Chin chin.’
ORIGINAL REQUEST:
Briefly describe what you'd like to receive in your fic: Draco and Ginny both work for a trashy tabloid magazine, and they are constantly trying to one up each other on who has the best, trashiest, most outrageous scandal or story.
The tone/mood of the fic: humorous and romantic
An element/line of dialogue/object you would like in your fic: reference to a drunken snog under the mistletoe at last year's office Christmas party, either between the two of them or that they witnessed together
Preferred rating of the the fic you want: Teen to Mature Adult, and if you go for Mature Adult not too explicitly smutty, although some smut is fine
Canon or AU? Either, but if you're going AU then please keep the characterizations as close to canon as possible
Deal Breakers (anything you don't want?): character death, extreme kink, angst, the epilogue