Author's Notes:
The world and characters of this fic belongs to JK Rowling. The plot, title and some lines are a rip-off of the Howard Hawks' movie "His Girl Friday". Yes, it's Draco as Cary Grant, and why not? Many thanks to mrsFelton88 for her beta.

*

As soon as Ginny Weasley stepped inside the big main office of the Prophet, she felt quite at home again. Apart from the Burrow, this place really was her home. During her marriage, she had spent as many nights here as in the flat they’d never gotten around to decorating.

The place was frantic with activity: owls flew in and out of every window, witches and wizards ran around, scrolls pressed to their chests, some sat at or on desks, dictating to quick-quotes quills, everyone smoked – and in every one of the dozen fireplaces a head was poking through the flames, shouting for attention.

"Oh my," said Neville, "this is where you work?"

"Where I used to work, darling." She turned to him. Just looking at him made her relax. There was something so peaceful and protective about a man who didn’t run around shouting all the time – a man who didn't eat, read, and sleep news.

"Now, you just wait here while I go talk to him. I'll only be a few minutes."

"Don't you think I should go with you?"

"No, no. I'll handle him, I promise. Ten minutes, then we can be off."

She had barely taken three steps before Colin Creevey saw her and rushed up.

"Ginny! How was the Bahamas? Ready to get back to it again?"

It didn't take long until she was surrounded by old friends and colleagues, all asking her how she was and if she had heard this or that piece of gossip. After a few minutes of hugs, handshakes and trying to answer everyone's questions at once, she got away and proceeded to the back of the room. She stopped at Pansy Parkinson's desk.

"Is the Lord of the Universe in?"

"Ginny! He's in a meeting, but you just go on in. It's only Goyle and Zabini."

"Thanks, Pans."

"Hey, Gin? Are you back?"

Ginny stopped, hand on the door handle. Then she adjusted the fashionable witches' hat on her head, and smiled.

"Not on your panties, Pansy. This broad is moving on to greener pastures, over the hills, under the sea, east-and-southwest of Neverneverla-"

"Weasley?"

"Yes?"

"Just shut up and go see him, okay?"

*

It was a big office, mostly so Malfoy could have a couch-bed to sleep in when he didn't have time to go home. The desk was covered with scrolls and quills, and a couple of sleepy owls perched on the windowsill. Draco was leaning against the desk, his back to her, talking loudly about the Wizengamot.

"And if those stodgy old beards want us to raise the general election issue again, we will!"

Ginny looked at him for a moment. From behind, he looked the same. Maybe a shade thinner, but he was still tall and blond and dressed in black, and he still talked all the time. She had not missed him one bit. Not one bit.

Goyle was sitting in a chair near the door. He wasn’t listening to Draco, and he pretended not to pay any attention to her either, but she knew better. Goyle had saved her bacon a couple of times, and she didn't care if he'd done it on Draco's behalf or simply because he liked her. She gave him a quick nod.

Blaise Zabini was arguing with Draco, his hands in the air.

"We're against the general election! We've argued against it for fifty years!"

"Well, then we'll change back after they've let Whitby out!"

"Oh, like that's-"

Ginny knocked on the door frame.

"What is it?" shouted Draco.

"Your ex-wife is here. Do you want to see her?"

He had turned around before she finished speaking. His grey eyes darkened as they met her brown ones, and she reminded herself again that she had not missed him at all. Oh no, not at all.

"Well, well, well. Weasley. I was wondering when you'd be back."

"Yes, I know. The owls were most persuasive."

"Not too persuasive, as it took you, what? Two months?"

"Let's see... Two weeks in Paris, then two lovely months in the Bahamas..."

"Ahum. Hello Ginny."

Zabini stepped forward to kiss her on the cheek. She forced herself to break eye contact with Draco, and stood on her toes to receive the kiss.

"Blaise! How nice to see you. How is life?"

"Great, now that you're back. I don't think Malfoy's left the office even once since-"

"Thank you, Blaise, that will be all for now. You get on the phone with Wimple, tell him he'll have the Prophet's vote in the next election, if he lets Whitby go."

"But there are no elections-!"

"Then he'll want to keep us happy, won't he? Go! Now!"

Blaise shrugged and left. Goyle lumbered out after him, closing the door behind them.

"Well well well, it's still the same old story, isn't it?"

"A fight for love and glory?" he smiled at her, and, damn the man, that was their song. Had been their song. Merlin, she didn't want to remember, and so she opened her bag to find a cigarette. But then a packet came flying through the air, and she only caught it thanks to
her old Quidditch reflexes. He knew her habits.

"That's a nice hat."

"I know, I got it in Paris. It's the latest in witches' fashions."

"Suits you very well. Are you ready to get back to work, Ginny? They're going to bury Kevin Whitby in Azkaban-"

"Oh no. Hold it right there, Malfoy. Not another story, not this time. That's not what I'm doing here. I'm a new woman. You don't know me anymore."

"I'd know you anytime, anyplace, anywhere." Suddenly, he was standing close to her, leaning down, hands on her arms. For a second, her body remembered the old patterns and she softened against him, almost... He gripped her harder.

She came to her senses and pushed him away.

"Let go! I'm not going to fall for your tricks again."

"Tricks, what tricks? I think you made a mistake when you decided to divorce me... I know you did. I've missed you, Gin. More than you'll..."

"Oh, stop it. Sending me two owls a day for ten weeks? Fresh roses every Wednesday morning? In the Bahamas? Draco, I'm only here to tell you to stop owling me. I'm not coming back. The papers are signed, I've got a new life and a new career-"

"Oh yeah? With what paper? The Quibbler? The Newe Sight? What are they paying you? I'll pay double! Well, I'll give you a ten percent increase on your old wages, and that's-"

"You'll never be able to match the offer I've had!"

"What? Are you defecting to the enemy? Don't tell me you've gone over to the Ministry, Weasley, that's..."

"No, not the Ministry."

"Not the Ministry? Well, then, I won't give you that raise."

"No, you won't. I’m getting married."

"Ah! I love a girl with some initiative. Now, you put me through some rough times these past few months, Ginny, but I forgive you. All right, I'll marry you again."

"To Neville Longbottom."

"We can maybe even do something about the apartment. Curtains- Excuse me?"

"I was wondering when you'd catch up. I'm getting married to Neville Longbottom."

"The hell you are!"

Ginny put out her cigarette.

"Don't you speak to me like that, Draco Malfoy. I only came to tell you to stop owling me. By this time tomorrow, I'll be Mrs. Neville Longbottom, of Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch, Wales."

"...Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch?"

"Yes. It’s Welsh."

"I've heard of it... A bit small for you, isn’t it?"

"It's a lovely place to raise children."

"You never wanted children!"

"I do now. I've realised I want a proper home, with curtains, and children, and – and home-cooked meals!"

"And Neville Longbottom!"

"Don't you use that tone of voice! Neville is a War hero!"

"Aren't we all?"

"Oh! Shut up." She grabbed her purse and made as if to leave.

"Wait!" he called out. So she waited. He wasn't going to...

"Listen, Kevin Whitby was at Hogwarts with us. Now they're saying he killed Dirk Cresswell, which is a damn lie. Cresswell was in bed with the goblins, everyone knows that, and-"

"Malfoy! I don't give a damn anymore!" She stormed out of his office, angry and disappointed. He only wanted her for her great copy!

Malfoy was right behind her, however.

"I think I'll say hello to Neville myself, if you don't mind."

"But I do mind!"

"That’s a shame... Hello, Longbottom. Long time no see, and all that... I hear you're marrying my wife?"

He grabbed Neville's hand and shook it enthusiastically.

"Oh, hello, Malfoy. Uh, yes, I am, only... Well, of course she's not your wife any longer-"

"Of course not. I just can't help thinking about her like that. You know, once you've shared a home, and a bed, and-"

"Shut it, Malfoy!" cried Ginny. "Neville, we should get going."

"Nonsense, we can't have you leaving just like that! I'm taking you two lovebirds to lunch!"

Ginny shot him the Glare of Death but Malfoy simply raised his eyebrow at her. Infuriating man!

"Oh, thanks, Draco, that's very kind of you... I'm not sure we have the time though, we have to pick up my Gran..."

Malfoy's face lit with unholy joy.

"Augusta Longbottom? She’s going to attend your wedding?"

"Oh, yes, and also, we're going to live with her, you know."

"Yes?"

"Yes, she insisted-"

"She'll be a great help with the children, darling," Ginny interjected.

"You shouldn’t call me 'darling', Ginny, not when you’re marrying-"

"I was not talking to you!"

"Actually, I’m not sure Gran will be much help with the children... She’s very set in her ways, and-"

"Darling! Draco is not interested in that. Let's just get going, well, bye, Malfoy, it's been... It's been."

She dragged Neville out the door but Malfoy was hot on their heels.

"Nonsense! I'm taking you two to lunch! I know Longbottom is an expert on gillyweed, and I've some questions about this new habit people have of smoking it."

"Oh!" Neville lit up, like he always did when someone mentioned something to do with Herbology, his chosen field. Ginny sighed.

"All right, but we're going to eat something expensive, Malfoy."

"Anything you want, Ginevra. Now hush, Neville was just going to tell us about gillyweed."

"Well, while dry gillyweed is certainly useable for smoking purposes, I wouldn’t..."

Ginny huffed and followed the two men out. She didn’t know what Malfoy was planning but she would not fall for his tricks again! Meanwhile, he could pay for the Firewhisky she longed to imbibe asap!

Author's Notes:
The world and characters of this fic belongs to JK Rowling. The plot, title and some lines are a rip-off of the Howard Hawks' movie "His Girl Friday". Yes, it's Draco as Cary Grant, and why not? Many thanks to mrsFelton88 for her beta.

This note got lost as I posted the first chapter - I apologize, and it's there now. And I would like to thank everyone who left me reviews on chapter one!

*

Draco Malfoy was very tight-fisted with the Prophet's money, but he had always made sure Ginny ate in style. So she set out for Chez Alphonse, thinking of lobster with her Firewhisky, but after a few steps alone she discovered that the men had disappeared into the Leaky Cauldron! Ginny pressed her lips together, and retraced her footsteps. She nearly collided with Malfoy in the doorway. He grabbed her shoulders to steady her.

"There you are! Thought we'd lost you."

"I was thinking Alphonse, not the Leaky Cauldron!"

"Well, I can't help you there, I'm afraid. The paper can't afford lobster and Firewhisky."

"No, but you can!"

"Ah, but this is for an article. About the proprieties of gillyweed."

"You..!"

"Ginny? Everything all right?"

"Yes, darling, we're coming. Just clearing up a small matter about the food. Be sure to order steak! Malfoy's paying!" She sailed past Malfoy, her nose in the air.

*

The Leaky's dining-room was not too crowded that day – they managed a decent table in a corner. Ginny sat on the left, and before Neville could seat himself beside her, Draco claimed the chair.

"You won't mind, I know," he said, "I like to have my back to a wall. Old War thing. I'm sure you have some of those hang-ups yourself, eh?"

"Well, not really," said Neville, "but I do know what you mean. I remember-"

"Let's not discuss the War," said Ginny, who had far too many memories of it. Too many memories of Draco Malfoy and herself, during the War, to be sure.

"Ah, I remember one night here, sitting just like this, before the Burning of Azkaban – must have been the night before. Ginny, you sat on my left, wearing that little number- ow!"

He bent down to nurse the foot she had dug a sharp heel into. Old Tom came up to their table.

"What'll you have?" He squinted at Ginny. "Oh, it's the Weasley miss, innit? Been a while."

"Why, yes it has. I've been to the Bahamas." Ginny smiled and fluttered her eyelashes at Tom. "And now I have a craving for lobster and Firewhisky, Tom."

"Or how about Butterbeer and chips?" said Malfoy.

"Or how about lobster, and lots of it."

"I'll get you lobster, Miss."

"We'll have the shepherd's pie, won't we, Longbottom?"

"Uhm, sure."

"Food for real men."

"Cheap, too," said Ginny. She lit a cigarette, and then lit one for Malfoy. He blew a smoke ring at her, shaped like a heart. She frowned.

"So, Gin, what'll you do in Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch?"

"Oh, I'm sure we'll come up with something."

Neville laughed. Now it was Draco's turn to frown.

"Well, I have to tell you, Longbottom, you're stealing my best reporter. No one can cover a criminal case like our Gin."

"Oh, I know. But Ginny wants a home, and children, and I can give her that."

"That's right, darling. No more late nights staking out the Ministry."

"Come down from the War high, have we?"

"Maybe I have. Or maybe it was just living in a flat without curtains that did it."

Draco turned to Neville.

"And what do you do, in Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch?"

"Oh, I'm into experimental small-scale farming. Ever heard of Protector Potatoes? Or Killer Cabbage? Hugely popular now, what with the random Death Eaters still running around the countryside. They can sense Dark Magic from a mile off!"

"No, really? And here I always relied on my old wand – oww! I mean, that sounds dead interesting."

"We have a couple of unicorns too."

"Unicorns? Why, I remember my Father always wanted to get his hands on a pair of unicorns... Oww! Ginevra!"

"No one wants to hear stories about your father."

"You have a point there. So what's up with the unicorns, anyway? Are you thinking Ginny could take care of them? Because I can assure you, whatever Ginny is, she's no-"

"Oww!"

"I'm sorry Tom! My foot must've slipped!"

"Thass' all right, Miss. I can live with just the one foot. After all, I have no teeth, what's a foot or two? As long as I have me hands to serve..."

"That's right, Tom, you're a gillyweed smoker, aren't you?" Malfoy interrupted.

"What a man may choose to smoke in his spare time is his own business, Mister Malfoy! I don't hold with what you print in that paper of yours, no I don’t!"

"Ha! Here's someone who doesn't think The Prophet should be used for political purposes!" crowed Ginny.

"It's always been used for political purposes! Only now it's my political purposes and not the Ministry's!"

"Well, I don't care," said Tom, stunning them with his sudden turnabout, "I buy The Magical Times, on account of the Page Five girls, you see. Begging your pardon, Miss."

"Oh, go away, Tom. You're not helping," said Draco. "And the food’s getting cold."

"I thought you wanted to discuss gillyweed with Neville."

"Sure I do. Gillyweed or unicorns. Aren't they almost extinct, anyway?"

"Yes, that's right," said Neville. "I'm the Chairman of the Unicorn Protection Society, or UPS, and we're raising money to re-introduce the breed into the countryside. Especially Wales, as it's one of their native habitats."

"Sounds expensive."

"It is! But my Great Uncle Algie has left us a small stipend, and my Gran's friends are quite formidable at raising Galleons."

"Fascinating. I can really see Ginny... Don't put that foot down if you want to keep it, Weasley! But when do you leave for Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch? Are you to 'marry in haste'?"

"If you finish that quote, Malfoy..."

"We're taking the Knight Bus just after lunch," said Neville. "I'd love to go by broom but Gran, well, she’s getting a bit old for that..."

"I see..." Draco suddenly moved his hand and managed to overset Neville's bottle of Butterbeer. It fell into his lap. Everyone exclaimed and Ginny pulled out her wand.

"Here, let me...!"

"No, no, I'll have Tom fix me up, be right back." Malfoy strode from the table.

"That’s odd," murmured Ginny. "He’s never been clumsy..."

"I quite like him, Gin. These days, he’s a charmer."

"Sure he is, it's in his family. His father was a snake."

*

Draco cleaned himself up with his wand, and leaned over the counter towards Tom.

"Do me a favour, will you? Pretend I've been owled."

"Yeah? What'll I get out of it?"

"A Galleon?"

"Ha! Make it five, and Bob’s your uncle."

"Dammit, I'm a starving reporter!"

"What's your wife doing eating lobster if you're so poor?"

"I'd like to see you tell Ginny Weasley she can't have any lobster!"

"Your own fault for spoiling her, innit?"

"What do you know?"

"I've seen her when she was a little girl, running about with Harry Potter and only eating a ham sandwich all day, and be grateful for it!"

"Yeah, well, I prefer her well fed, thanks very much. Just come get me in a minute," Draco snarled, and walked back to the table.

Ginny and Longbottom were holding hands, looking awfully mushy. Draco would have liked to take Ginny by her shoulders and shake some sense into her, but that would only put her back up. No, the way to get Ginny Weasley was by sheer underhanded deception and subterfuge.

That, and sex. But Draco knew this was not the time for sex. The time for sex would come later... later tonight. He'd gone ten weeks since the last time he got some, and that time it was breakup-sex, and Draco much preferred makeup-sex to breakup-sex.

He wondered if she was sleeping with Longbottom. That would mean he'd have to kill the guy, and who knew when you’d need an expert on gillyweed... Also, killing Longbottom would mean Harry Potter would be after him, and Harry Potter already had his eye on Draco, for marrying Harry's ex-wife. Draco knew that there had been much rejoicing in the Potter household the night Ginny left for Paris, divorce papers in hand.

"Owl for you, Mister Malfoy!" called Tom.

"Oh, and just when we were getting so cozy... 'Scuse me," he said, and made sure to bump into Ginny so she’d have to let go of Longbottom's hand.

He accepted an offended-looking owl from Tom (owls took their work very seriously, and didn’t like to be used, even if it was for the sake of Draco getting laid) and went to the public fireplace that was connected to the Floo Network. He tossed some Floo powder into the fire and stuck his head in the flames.

"The Prophet, get me Zabini!"

Soon, Blaise was crouched down in front of him.

"Listen, I know how to get Ginny back!"

"To the paper, or to you?"

"Never you mind. Just do what I tell you! Send Bradley on a cruise, right this minute!"

"But he's covering the Whitby case!"

"I know he is! Send him somewhere far away, I'll pay! Tell him he's earned it!"

"But Bradley hates holidays!"

"He'll go on a holiday or he can look for another job!"

"Okay, okay. But I sure hope Ginny stays, because someone has to write the story..."

"Oh, she will. You just do your job, and I'll take care of the rest."

*

Ginny was finishing her last drop of Firewhisky when Malfoy returned to the table. She couldn't help noticing he looked quite depressed.

"Bad news?" she asked out of the kindness of her heart. He was paying for her lobster, after all.

"Yes... The Whitby case."

"Yeah, I know you've staked some on that. Too bad the Wizengamot cannot be persuaded."

"What's this?" asked Neville.

"Oh, you might remember Kevin Whitby from Hogwarts, darling. I sure do – I went to Hogsmeade with him, once. It was nice..."

"Wait a minute? You dated Whitby? When was this? Before Potter?"

"Oh, it was just a date, Draco. It didn't go anywhere – because he was crazy. And there was no chemistry."

"When?"

"What does it matter? It was after I broke up with Michael, I think."

"So what did you talk about on the date?"

"Listen, pal, I don't see why I should tell you anything. We're divorced, Malfoy, and if you're jealous..."

"Don't be stupid. You know Whitby. He trusts you, because all your old boyfriends trust you, god knows why. If I can get you in a room with him..."

"Oh!"

"If he's crazy, I'm not sure I want Ginny to be in a room with him!" Neville objected.

"Also, I kinda broke his heart..."

"How the hell could you have done that when you only went on one date with the guy?"

Ginny smiled at them.

"I can't help it if men find me attractive. I was born like that."

"You sure you want to marry her, Longbottom-oww!"

"Oh look, I think I finished my drink," said Ginny. "Maybe..."

"Oh, no. Now is not the time for drinking, Weasley. Listen, I just had some bad news. Bradley's wife is having twins."

"Oh, but that's wonderful!" said Neville.

"Yeah, maybe for him but not for me. Bradley was covering Whitby. I need a story for tomorrow, and so does Whitby unless he's to end up in Azkaban on a permanent basis!"

"Tough," said Ginny, and lit another cigarette.

"Longbottom! Talk to her! You’re about to start your marriage with a man's life between you! Can't you picture yourself in your marriage bed, and the ghost of Kevin Whitby between you and Ginny!"

"Malfoy! Tasteless!"

"Well, Ginny, if it's that bad, maybe..."

"No! No way ho-say, I’ve given up on being a journalist. It’s a hard and thankless job, and I'm going to Wales to breed whales and trim curtains and, uh, whatever it is you do with babies." She narrowed her eyes. "Also, Bradley's not married so how could his wife have twins huh?"

"It was one of those short engagements. You know how it goes – one minute you're married to me and the next you imagine yourself – I mean, she was a very pregnant bride, or so they tell me."

"Real believable, Malfoy."

"Also, I'll donate twenty thousand Galleons to Longbottom's unicorn thingie."

Ginny choked on the Butterbeer she had swiped from Malfoy, Neville dropped his wand, and Malfoy smiled smugly. The rat-bastard! Ginny was torn between admiration and hate for the Ferret.

"You'll do what?"

"Ginny writes the story, I'll donate twenty thousand Galleons to the Unicorn Society."

"But Ginny doesn't want to be a journalist-"

"Neville, darling, shut it for a minute." Ginny leaned close to Malfoy (and wished she hadn't, as he still smelled so... good) and looked into his eyes.

"May we get that in a binding format?"

"Why, of course. I'll have Zabini write you a-"

"No, I meant binding. Will you make it an Unbreakable Vow?"

"I... Uh."

"You heard me."

"Really, darling, isn't that just a bit..."

"Oh no, Neville, I trust Malfoy about as far as I can throw him-"

"Not very far the-"

"Shut it, Malfoy. Neville, it's twenty thousand Galleons to the Society. We can do a lot with that kind of money."

"But darling, Gran is waiting..."

"Oh, she can wait a little longer. I can write the story in two hours or so. A visit with Kevin, an hour to write an article about his misfortunes, and a side story about the Wizengamot - I have lots of dirt on those old farts, Malfoy, you should write a nice juicy editorial, and Zabini should make some personal calls – Draco gets the story, you get the money, we get married, have a couple of kids, Draco grows bitter and old and lonely and dies of a heart attack from working too much, and he never gets curtains. It's a good deal all 'round, I say."

"How about I just strangle you, right here, right now, and we both die without curtains, Weasley?"

"How about," she stood up, "you take Neville with you back to the office and make that Vow, while I get over to the Ministry? ...Unless you'd rather we went and picked up Mrs. Longbottom?"

Author's Notes:
The world and characters of this fic belongs to JK Rowling. The plot, title and some lines are a rip-off of the Howard Hawks' movie "His Girl Friday". Yes, it's Draco as Cary Grant, and why not? Many thanks to mrsFelton88 for her beta.

*

The first time a member of the Press had asked the Ministry for a press-room, the Minister of Magic had laughed for several hours. The next forty-nine times someone had asked for a press-room, the same thing happened. The fifty-first time, Paracelsus Lovegood had been the one to ask the question - and as it happened, he had been standing next to Harry Potter at the time. And Harry Potter had said it was a splendid idea, and so, the press-room was born.

That it was located just off the Atrium, in a broom closet, was the Minister's way of showing what he thought of the wizards and witches of the Press. It was bigger on the inside, anyway - slightly bigger than a real broom closet.

Ginny peeked in and found that, like at the Prophet, things had not changed much in the past ten weeks. Parvati Patil was making tea while keeping one eye out of the window, charmed to show whatever view was wanted, and Daphne Greengrass was throwing quills at Simon Capper. Eddie Carmichael was shouting into a fireplace, and Alfgar Keddle was petting the owls. Everyone was smoking, and the room had not been cleaned since, well, ever.

These people, and one or two others, were the political reporters of the British Wizarding World. They mostly had no life outside of their jobs, they fought each other for the best stories, and everyone who worked for the Ministry would have liked to hex them on sight.

Ginny loved them dearly and considered them a second family.

"Anyone home?"

"Ginny!" shrieked Parvati, and tossed the teapot across the room, so she could embrace Ginny with both arms. The teapot splattered tea all over the room, and everyone started screaming or hooting.

"Patil! You're upsetting the Feathered Ones," said Keddle, and hugged a small one to his chest.

"Oh, whatever!" said Parvati. "Ginny! How was the Bahamas?"

"Warm," said Ginny. "So how are things here? Daphne and Simon break up again?"

"Last night. I'm hoping she won't take him back until tomorrow, because I she's promised me and Lav a sleepover tonight at her place if she's still single."

"Oh, don't worry, I'll never take him back." said Daphne.

"Well, you always say that," said Parvati, "but then you do it anyway. Just like Ginny always goes back to Draco."

"I have not gone back to Draco!"

"Still wearing the ring, aren't you," said Simon. "He made us give him your address in the Bahamas, so he could send you flowers."

"So it was you who gave it to him. Traitors! And no, I'm not wearing his ring. I'm getting married to someone else."

"You are?" said Parvati. "Who? I need to tell Lav so she can write it for the society column."

"It's Neville Longbottom."

"Neville? Really? I mean, I know he's had a crush on you for ages, and Merlin knows he is a War hero, but..."

"No buts. I'm totally over being a reporter and hiding in a broom closet waiting for some Ministry official to sneer at me and tell me lies. I'm moving to Wales to have children."

"See, that's what a real woman does, Daphne. You never once cooked a meal for me. Good thing I dumped you."

"I dumped you!"

They started shouting, so Ginny dragged Parvati into a corner.

"So I need to do one last story for Draco."

"He must be thrilled you're marrying Neville."

"Oh, he'll get over it. I'm giving him my take on the Whitby case for a goodbye present, you know Draco, work comes first."

"Yes, and that's why you love him."

"Parvati Patil! I do not love Draco, all we ever did was fight!"

"But you love fighting!"

"Oh, never mind. Just give me some help here. Kevin Whitby is a nutcase, you know it, I know it, all the girls who went to Hogwarts with him know it..."

"Oh yes, he was always going on about how he could fly without a broom."

"Also he was a lousy kisser."

"That sucks. Didn't you date him when you were on the rebound from Dean?"

"Michael, actually, but yes. Anyway, what a weirdo, but a murderer? Didn't he cry every time he had to Transfigure a spider? He said it hurt them."

"Yes, he did, and if you ask any of us, you'll see that we don't buy it for a second... But if you ask Gilbert Wimple..."

"Ah. Draco was mentioning him, actually."

"Yes, well, he was awfully close to Dirk Cresswell. As in, Cresswell has sent money his way since forever."

"Oh, everyone knows Wimple likes to earn a few extra Galleons when he can."

"Cresswell's wife wants Whitby's head on a platter, too."

"And she has Wimple in her pocket... Listen, do you know where they are holding him?"

"Whitby? Sure, he's in Level One. Good luck getting in there."

"They have to let me see him! Free Press, and all that."

"Yeah, well, I keep telling you, Free Press is a Malfoy invention. We don't have Free Press!"

"Well, it works for the Prophet!" said Ginny, and marched to the closest fireplace.

*

"Draco?" When Ginny's head popped up in his office fireplace, Draco took a moment to admire her, all wrapped in flames. Not everyone looked so pretty on fire...

"What is it, Weasley? You can't have the story already."

"No, you moron, I want to know if you've made the Vow yet. Don't want to waste my time in the dungeons, chasing a mad killer, if you've found a way to drop out of our agreement."

"Ginny!" said Longbottom, "I really, really don't want you running around in a dungeon with a mad killer! Malfoy, even you have to see there must be a limit!"

"Oh, I'm sure they've taken his wand. And Ginny can take care of herself."

"That's right," said Ginny, "I mean, oh, darling, I love it that you think of my safety. Draco once sent me down an old mine shaft and then left me in the dark for days!"

"It was twenty-five minutes, and you had your wand."

"Days!"

"A couple of hours, at most, and we won an award for that story."

"Yes, and you kept the trophy."

Draco smiled at her.

"Well, you know how I hate small, dark, places. It's like being seven and forced to visit Auntie Bella in Azkaban again. Also spiders - I hate spiders," he confided to Longbottom in an aside.

"Oh, I've always wondered why people fear spiders - I find them absolutely fascinating. The
Theridiidae..."

"Neville! Has he made the Vow, or not?"

"Uhm, no. Not yet - we were discussing -"

"Draco Malfoy! Now you give him that Unbreakable Vow or I will leave the Ministry and Apparate straight to Wales and set up house in a dark cave filled with spiders!"

"To, uhm, protect your virtue?"

"You've seen the last of my virtue, Malfoy! Keep dreaming! Make the Vow, or I'll go!"

"Awwf, all right then." Draco began to roll up his sleeve. "Let's get on with it, Longbottom. Weasley, be off and do journalistic doings so I'll have something for the next edition, please. Longbottom can take it from here."

With an angry pop! Ginny's head disappeared from the fire. Draco stretched his wrists towards Longbottom.

"Go ahead, do your worst. I suppose we can disband with the dragon blood, or would you like me to send Goyle out for some?"

"Dragon blood?"

"Well, I know the modern version sticks with just drinking the blood of the victim... I mean, the person making the promise. But you're from one of those old families, too - my Father always insisted on the proper rituals, you know."

"I've never made an Unbreakable Vow. I had no idea there was blood involved!"

"Oh, blood, sacred knifes, virgins... The whole shebang. Also some spitting, I believe. Or was it hair-pulling? I always get those two mixed up. Should have paid more attention in school. Snape always said I could have been a much better student."

"I don't feel at all comfortable drawing blood! Hermione Granger is very passionate about the new Health and Safety in Magic Laws - she is against all uncontrolled forms of blood-letting."

"Good for her! It's about time we left those old rituals behind, really. I never saw the point in sacrificing goblins and pigeons for the sake of a Horcrux or two! Let's have a safer, cleaner, better Wizarding Britain!"

"Yes!"

The two men stood together for a soulful moment, united in their common beliefs. Then Draco reached out a hand.

"Look, Longbottom, how about I just promise you the money? Man to man? Shake on it? And we can always tell Weasley we did the whole blood and gore ritual, if she asks."

"But I don't like lying to Ginny."

"Oh, I do it all the time. Keeps her on her toes. The key to a successful marriage is to only tell the truth if you absolutely have to, trust me."

"...I begin to see why Ginny divorced you."

"Divorced me? It was a mutual agreement! I had to put my foot down eventually. In fact, Ginny had absolutely nothing to do with it."

*

Ginny left the cell on Level One thinking she had a better understanding of Malfoy's fear of small, dark, places. At least this cell had no spiders - Kevin Whitby had struck her as the kind of wizard who would have trained any spiders sharing his accommodation to march in
line or perform a play.

He was madder than she remembered, but during her interview with him, her brain had already begun shaping the article for the next edition - they'd go with an insanity plea. She'd write something that would have every Prophet reader swallow her or his morning tea and then send the Minister an owl, demanding the release of Whitby into the caring hand of the staff at St. Mungos. And Draco could whip up a nice acerbic editorial about the Wizengamot...

She took the lift back to the Press room. Time to make some dough - for the unicorns, of course. Or if it was just for the pleasure of seeing Malfoy giving away twenty thousand Galleons to save some Unicorns.

*

"All right, Longbottom, if we're all agreed here, I need to get back to work."

"Well... About the money for the Foundation..."

"Yes?"

"I mean, I'm happy with your word. But Ginny... I'm not so sure that's going to be good enough for her."

"No, maybe not, but let's not tell her until you're in Wales."

"But Ginny can be pretty persuasive!"

"Bad habit. Better make her get rid of notions like that one."

"Malfoy. Get me something in writing."

"Do I have to?"

"Yes!"

"All right. Zabini! Zabini! Get in here. Draw up an IOU for Longbottom here. He'll give you the details - I need a word with Pansy."

Leaving Longbottom and Zabini in his office, Draco went to find his secretary. She was painting her nails in the ladies' loo. He boldly went where no other man would ever dare go.

"Draco! Really! I'll tell Ginny you were in here."

"You do that, Pans. But first, there's something else I need you to do... Remember Neville Longbottom?"

Author's Notes:
The world and characters of this fic belongs to JK Rowling. The plot, title and some lines are a rip-off of the Howard Hawks' movie "His Girl Friday". Yes, it's Draco as Cary Grant, and why not? Many thanks to mrsFelton88 for her beta.

And thank you for your reviews!

*

So caught up in planning her article, Ginny didn't realise something was different in the press room until she had taken two steps inside. It was so quiet... and everyone was hugging the walls and studying their feet.

Everyone, that is, besides Hermione Granger.

Hermione hadn't changed much in ten weeks, either. As a matter of fact, Ginny was beginning to feel like the ten weeks away had all been a dream. After all, here she was, running around doing Malfoy's job for him, and everyone else just took her for granted and Hermione was using her best teaching voice and pointing her finger at the wall of owls.

"I won't accept another owl in here until you tag and neuter all of these, Keddle! I know I sent you the new Health and Safety in British Owleries scroll, in fact I sent you three copies, and you signed for them, and here I find that despite all our notices, you people keep on co-habiting with between seven and fourteen owls at any one time, and also you prepare and consume foodstuffs on the premises!"

"It's only a take-out chicken vindaloo!" said Parvati.

"According to Section Eighteen... Oh, hello, Ginny."

"Hermione. I was going to come by, but-"

"Oh, never mind me, I'm only your best friend and never mind that I've spent the last ten weeks fielding increasingly desperate owls and house elves from Malfoy and Harry both, and never mind-"

"Is Harry still pining for Ginny?" asked Parvati, quick-quotes in hand. Hermione huffed.

"I decline to comment, Parvati Patil. This should not be taken to mean that I either support or reject your claim. At this point-" At that point, Ginny grabbed her by the arm and dragged her into a corner.

"I spent seven years sharing a bedroom with the woman, and now she talks to me like a bloody manual," muttered Parvati.

"Hermione! What are you doing here?" whispered Ginny.

"To make sure the owls were being cared for in a safe and responsible manner, of course. Also, because Harry asked me to."

"Look, you tell Harry that I am not married to him any more, and-"

"Oh, that's not why he asked me to come."

"-the decision to split up was mutual, and we agreed that it was one of those youthful follies-"

"Ginny! Will you please shut up? I'm not here because Harry is still pining for you. Despite what you and Malfoy believe, the world does not revolve around you."

"I never said-"

"Oh, shush, just be a nice girl and play along, will you? For my sake, if not for Harry's."

"What the-"

But Ginny never got to finish her sentence. Hermione broke free of her and took a few rapid steps towards the middle of the room.

"No, Ginny, you can't stop me from saying this!" she said loudly. "Long have I wanted to protest the callous behaviour of the so-called Gentlemen of the Press! Long have I sat in silence as the headlines glared at me, the dark ink proclaiming guilty men innocent, innocent men guilty! Slanderous facts slathered on paper within reach of young children, and support for unhealthy care of owls and other magical birds!"

"I take good care of the Feathered Ones!" cried Keddle. "I was featured in Owls Tonight, even!"

"I will not be silenced! What you are printing in your papers hurts innocent wizards every day - wizards who have families and small children and one or two pet rats. Wizards who fought against Voldemort and almost lost their lives doing it. Wizards like, to name a name at random, Kevin Whitby!"

"Oh, come off it, Granger," said Simon Capper. "It's over and done with, everyone knows the Wizengamot wants Whitby in Azkaban."

"Yeah, and if you're so worried about Whitby, why don't you ask your best mate Harry Potter to save him, huh?" said Carmichael.

"Harry stays out of these things, he knows the people have to decide for themselves. We fought Voldemort because he wanted to rule us all single-handedly, why would you want Harry to be like him?"

"Because we know Harry'd make a rather better job out of it?" said Ginny. Hermione shot her a quick you're not helping-look, so she shut up.

"So we're to print stories in Whitby's defence because... Hermione Granger said so?" said Daphne.

"No, but because you all know he's innocent! And because you believe in the British Wizarding Democracy!"

"There's no such thing!" cried Simon.

"Well, we don't have Free Press, either. And yet, here you all are." Hermione drew a breath, and now Ginny didn't know if she was play-acting or not. "Look, all systems of government work only because the people in them believe in the system. It's like an elaborate mass psychosis, everyone is thinking it's all set in stone, but if enough people start thinking, hey, maybe this isn't how we want the system, to work, maybe we want it to work differently - well, that's when you suddenly have a broom closet to call your own, right in the heart of the Ministry of Magic!"

"She's lost me," said Parvati.

"I think we have a press-room because Harry Potter liked the idea," said Carmichael.

"I treat the Feathered Ones like my own children, I don't see what Health and Safety has to do with anything," said Keddle.

Hermione put her hand over her eyes and sighed.

"Ginny, lead me out of here. The ignorance is killing me." She grabbed Ginny's arm and hung on to it like it was the last Butterbeer in the pantry. Then she dragged Ginny out the door with considerable strength.

*

"Ouch! Did you have to drag me like that?"

"I thought it looked very dramatic."

"Melodramatic, more like. What the hell was all that about, anyway?"

"That's for me and Harry to know about and for you to guess. I know the Prophet is going to back Whitby, your job is to make sure the other papers do it too."

"Excuse me, my job is writing articles for my boss, who happens to be Draco Malfoy, not Harry Potter! The Prophet is not under your thumb yet, Hermione!"

"Oh, I know, I know. Free Press, and all that."

"Yes!"

"...Not that we have Free Press."

"You tell Harry that Draco will have Whitby cleared of all charges by this time tomorrow, and no thanks to any of your meddling!"

"That's really kind of him. I'm so happy for you both, by the way." Hermione was smiling in the slightly superior way that Ginny had never quite mastered and was secretly in envy of.

"You are? Why?"

"That you're back together, I mean. It's been too long since we had a good fight about Malfoy and his bloody paper."

"We're not back together! I'm marrying Neville!"

"Neville Longbottom?"

"He loves me and we're moving to Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogochto raise badgers! I mean, unicorns! Children! I said children!"

"Oh dear me, badgers would probably be better. They're more self-sufficient."

"Hermione..."

Hermione smiled and gave her a quick hug.

"Whatever you say, Gin. We do miss you when you jaunt off - Harry gets a new grey hair every time. I have to rush off. We'll do lunch soon, okay? I'll tell Harry you have a tan!"

She Apparated away, leaving Ginny with her mouth open, too late to reply to anything. Blast the woman, she hadn't told her what Harry was up to, and why Ginny should do what Harry wanted her to do, and whether she really knew what Harry wanted her to do!

However, doing Harry's bidding would annoy Malfoy, she was sure of that. And Ginny lived to annoy Malfoy...

*

Back in the press-room, she shook her head slowly.

"She was really upset. Poor Hermione. She believes Kevin Whitby innocent, and I'm afraid she'll go and do something stupid..."

"Like what," said Simon, "go jump out a window? She's a witch, she can fly."

"And anyway, we're underground, you can't jump from these windows," said Daphne.

"Maybe she's going to massacre the Feathered Ones!" said Keddle, clutching a couple to his chest.

"..."

"Well, I hear that's what Muggles do when things don't go their way. She's Muggle-born, after all."

"Hey, Lav is Muggle-born and she would never hurt an owl!" said Parvati.

"That's what you know," said Keddle, darkly.

Ginny grabbed Parvati's wand-arm before someone got hurt.

"All I'm saying, is that if Hermione Granger says someone is innocent, I'll listen to her. She's the smartest witch in the Ministry, isn't she?"

Everyone nodded, more or less reluctantly.

"But never mind, Malfoy will be happy if it turns out that the Prophet was the only paper to have supported Whitby, after he's released and pronounced innocent..."

"Oh yes? Well you can just tell Malfoy-" but Carmichael was interrupted by Neville's voice from one of the fireplaces.

"Ginny? Ginny, are you there?"

"Neville!" Ginny rushed to the fireplace. "What is it? Where are you?"

"...Uhm."

"Uhm?"

"Well, you see... Ginny, I never meant to, I swear I didn't! I was only trying to help! She said she had no money, that she was from the country and didn't know her way around London... I didn't know she was a-! A-! I didn't know!"

"She was a what? Who is she? And where are you?"

"I'm at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement..."

"The what? How did you-? Wait, did Malfoy make you do something stupid? What did the rat-bastard do, I'll hex him until he has no hair left, the little-"

"No, really, Ginny, Malfoy had nothing to do with this. I had just left his office, the papers are all signed, I have them, at least, I had them, in my - anyway, I was just outside the Ministry, waiting for you..."

"Yes, what? What's wrong, Neville? Why are you at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement? What did you do?"

"I swear, Ginny, I did nothing! Only I'm arrested... for Indecent Exposure!"

Author's Notes:
The world and characters of this fic belongs to JK Rowling. The plot, title and some lines are a rip-off of the Howard Hawks' movie "His Girl Friday". Yes, it's Draco as Cary Grant, and why not? Many thanks to mrsFelton88 for her beta.

*

"Draco Tyrannis Malfoy! If you don't meet me at the DMLE in five seconds I will hex your boxers so tight you'll be talking like old Grandmother Prewett for the rest of your life!"

Ginny drew her head out of the fire without waiting for an answer, and sprinted down the stairs to Level Two - she was too angry to wait for a lift.

It came as no surprise to her that Malfoy was leaning against the wall next to the Level Two stairs, looking not in the least hurried or worried, of course. The rat knew very well why he was here!

"You! You rat-faced, demon-crapping, double-crossing-!"

"Unicorn?"

"Chimpanzee!"

"Oh, really, now, at least use a magical best to compare me to. An ape?"

"Apes are too good for you, anyway. What have you done to - no, I know what you've done to Neville, you were supposed to baby-sit him until I got back! Now he's been taken by the Hit-Wizards!"

"He is? What for, I wonder?"

"As if you don't have Extendable Ears everywhere! I'm sure you knew the minute they picked him up!"

"Oh, well, as to that, I was just going to Floo you, Ginny..."

"Oh, you were, were you? Why, I'm just going to twist your lying tongue into knots..." She reached for his throat, thinking a good strangling would make her day just perfect, but he caught her hands and yanked her to him, trapping her hands between them.

"I think not, Weasley. I need my tongue for lambasting politicians."

"You're a writer! You can lambast them in writing!" She squirmed to get away from him. He was warm and hard and smelled, well, he smelled like Draco, and her thrice-damned body was ignoring her brain's frantic commands not to go all weak-kneed right now.

Then she felt his right hand on her butt and that was when her brain shut up and... Draco released her.

"There." He held up her wand. "Just had to make sure you weren't going to hex my boxers. I want to make sure Little Draco stays healthy."

"I don't need my wand to-!" but she was interrupted by a polite cough from behind her.

"Excuse me, but some of us are trying to work here. Could you please take your foreplay somewhere else?"

It was an old witch carrying several dusty scrolls.

"It's all right, we're married," said Draco pleasantly.

Ginny was about to refute this - very loudly - but Draco quickly embraced her and pressed her face into his shoulder so she couldn't open her mouth. In fact, she couldn't even breathe.

"Ginny here is very worried about a friend of ours. In fact, could you tell me where Fredda Gamp has her office?"

"Hm. She's just to the right, first door. I think your wife is chocking, there."

"Yes, she's always been experimental like that. It's exciting, living on the edge every day. Who ever said marriage was boring?"

"Not I, my husband and- Uh. You just go on to Gamp's office, young man, and never you mind."

The witch left and Draco released Ginny.

"We. Are. Not. Married."

"Yes, I keep forgetting that. Maybe you could forget it too? It would make things so much easier."

"Yes, but as I've told you several times today, I want curtains."

"Weasley, it would sound so much better if you said 'Neville' instead of 'curtains'. I bet you can't even remember his name most of the time."

"Of course I can, you moron, it's-"

Then she was grabbed for the third time in a very short while, and this time, he kissed her. It was a hard and possessive kiss, and it was over before it had begun and she was left wanting more. Always wanting more.

"What's his name, Ginevra?"

"I-"

"Told you so."

"Malfoy, you toad, you think I'm going to fall for your old tricks, but I'm not. I love Ned - Neville, I love Neville and not all relationships are built on sex, anyway."

"Ours wasn't. Well, it was, but we had more than great sex. We were friends-"

"You bossed me around-"

"Great discussion-"

"Arguments!"

"The same outlook on life-"

"Well I've changed! Get it into your thick head that I don't want to live like that any more! I'm sick and tired of it and have the divorce papers to prove it, so back off, Malfoy!"

They stared at each other. Ginny noticed his hair was all out of place. She tried to avoid the look in his eyes. It seemed she could actually hurt the great Draco Malfoy. She hadn't known that.

"All right, Weasley. I believe you wanted me here to sort out this business with Longbottom? We should get to it," and he brushed past her to knock at Gamp's door. Ginny took a deep breath and adjusted her hair and robes.

She didn't feel so good. Stupid her and stupid Malfoy and stupid Neville. Stupid Harry Potter, for that matter. Stupid world, too.

Stupid.

*

Fredda Gamp had a very clean office. Her desk was not just tidy - it didn't have a single scroll on it, just a few quills. Her walls were full of posters of the most wanted criminals in the Wizarding World. Ginny spotted one with Lucius Malfoy. When she looked at his picture, he sneered and his mouth shaped what looked like the words "blood traitor" - Ginny thought it just as well that the posters were silent.

"I'm afraid Mr. Longbottom is accused of a terrible crime, Miss Weasley. We can't just release him, he should be rehabilitated and than allowed to enter society a different - and better - person."

"Neville doesn't need to be rehabilitated! He's fine just the way he is!"

"Only with an unfortunate habit of picking up prost-"

"Shut up, Malfoy! You're not helping!"

"The lady has refused to give us her name, but we believe she must be a woman without any regard for the law."

"Look, Ms. Gamp, I know what this must look like, but trust me, Neville isn't like that. We're engaged to be married, and he's employed by the Unicorn Society, and he's a War Hero, besides!"

"He is? Maybe he's suffering from Second War Syndrome, you know. We've had many cases where perfectly normal wizards have just gone bonkers one day."

"That's ridiculous! I'm a War Hero, too, and so is Malfoy here, even if you can't tell by looking at him."

"I resent that. I think I look pretty good."

"Yes, but your good looks are too polished. A real Hero looks more like Harry, you know, hair all tousled, scars... Tall, but not too tall. Thin to the point of being rangy... Sexy, but don't know it, that type of man."

"Forgive me for not swooning at the thought of Harry Potter. I'm surprised you divorced him, you've clearly still got a Harry hang-up."

"I do not have a-"

"Harry Potter? You were married to Harry Potter?" said Gamp.

Ginny frowned.

"Well, yes, but that has nothing to do with-"

"Shut up, Ginevra. Yes, this is Mrs. Ginny Potter, in person. And she really wants to sort out this mess with Longbottom. Is there nothing you can do, Ms. Gamp? Not even for Harry Potter's little lady?"

"Harry's little lady?" muttered Ginny.

"You sure you want Longbottom out of here?" whispered Draco. "Because I can think of a million things to do other than this."

"Well, this is Mr. Longbottom's first offence..." said Gamp.

"And last!" said Ginny.

"After all, how many prostitutes can there be in LlanfairpwllgwyngyllgogeryOW!"

"Next time, it's Little Draco," said Ginny.

"All right, for Harry Potter's sake, I'm willing to let him go. If you'll just wait here..."

Gamp left, and Ginny turned to Draco.

"All right, you can leave now. I'll get you my article in an hour or so."

"What, leave before I get to hear Longbottom's story? Not on your life!"

"There is no story! It was all a mistake!"

"Yes, we wouldn't want you to marry someone who picks up..."

"Shut up, they're coming. Neville?"

Neville entered, Gamp on his heels.

"Ginny! I've no idea how this happened! This witch said she had no money and no place to go, and before I knew it she reached for my... Well, for my privates, really. And then the Hit-Wizards just Apparated and arrested us! Ginny, I swear I was just trying to help!"

"Wait, they arrested this witch too?" said Ginny. "I want to meet her! This is the craziest story I've heard in, well, since I had to listen to Kevin Whitby - anyway, Ms. Gamp, we really must talk to this witch!"

"Now, really, Weasley, I think Longbottom's suffered enough, haven't you, Longbottom? Why would you want to drag up all those bad memories, can't you see the man's been traumatised!"

"Now, that's very kind of you, Malfoy, but I'm not sure traumatised is the correct-"

"Wait, what do you care if Neville sees this tramp again?" said Ginny, narrowing her eyes at Malfoy. "Now I really want to meet this person! Ms. Gamp, for the sake of Harry Potter, please let us meet her!"

Gamp clearly could not resist that name. She left the room again.

"I think I'm needed elsewhere, actually. Well, it's been nice seeing you-"

"One more step towards that door and you'll be adopting Muggles if you ever want kids!"

"What is going on here," asked Neville, looking from Ginny to Draco.

And then, Pansy Parkinson walked through the door.

Author's Notes: The world and characters of this fic belongs to JK Rowling. The story is based on the Howard Hawks' movie "His Girl Friday".

*

"It's her!" said Neville, pointing at Pansy.

"Pansy Parkinson!" said Ginny. "You vile hussy!"

"Pansy," said Draco, "I'm so surprised to see you here. I can't begin to tell you how surprised I am. In fact, my middle name should be Surprised."

"That's Pansy Parkinson? From Hogwarts? I didn't recognise her behind all that tarty makeup and fake blonde hair and Bewitched Breasts (TM)!" said Neville.

"Still surprised over here."

"Malfoy!" cried Ginny, "do you really think I don't know who put Pansy up to this? She's your secretary!"

"I can't help it if she has amoral tendencies! In fact, I pity the poor girl! That's why I gave her a job!"

"Draco Malfoy, the Saviour of Wizardkind. How noble, except that you only did this to embarrass Neville... Wait a minute, that can't be it! You had an ulterior motive, didn't you? Neville, where are those signed papers about his donation to the Unicorns?"

"Why, right here in my back pocket... That's strange, they were here only a minute ago..."

Ginny threw herself at Pansy, wrapping her hands around the other witch's throat.

"Give me those papers, Parkinson, or by Merlin, I will extract your tonsils with my bare hands!"

"Uh, urgh..." said Pansy, choking, and threw Draco a questioning (and increasingly desperate) look.

"I suggest you don't say a word, Pansy," said Draco, "you are fully within your rights to refuse an interrogation while threatened."

"That's a lie!" said Ginny, "no such rights exist in the Wizarding World!"

"Why, I believe you are right. Shame on Hermione Granger for implementing House Elves' Rights but not do anything for the common wizard!"

"Yeah, well, why don't you write an editorial, Malfoy, while I strangle your secretary."

"Really, Ginny, maybe you shouldn't-"

"Be quiet, Longbot- Neville dear, let me handle this!"

"Urrrk," said Pansy, and nodded her head desperately.

"But I think she's willing to, well, surrender," said Neville.

"My mother was right, you simply cannot get good staff these days." said Draco."Pansy, shut your pretty mouth and let me explain, please."

"I think not," said Ginny, and released Pansy. "Well?"

"Uh, I think I'll let Draco field this one. I just do what I'm told."

"Pansy!"

"Draco!" said Pansy in the same tone, "I'm not in the mood to be strangled."

"No, but you were in a mood to hit on my fiancé, you slut!"

"Actually I wasn't - no offence," she told Neville, "you're just not my type."

"At Hogwarts, your type was evil male Slytherins, as I recall. All of them. Including Snape!"

"Longbottom, get over it," said Draco. Pansy was a slut, but she was his slut (that is, she wasn't, she was his employee and only Draco and maybe Ginny got to call her a slut).

"So, basically, you had her seducing Neville so she could get the papers about your donation, and get Neville in trouble at the same time. And all this for a stupid article!" shouted Ginny.

Draco leaned in.

"Not really for the stupid article, no," he whispered, wishing Longbottom and Parkinson and Gamp (who was listening with her mouth open) would just go away. If he knew his wife, and he did, she was going to explode any second now, and making up after one of Ginny's explosions had always been his favourite part of their marriage.

But Ginny didn't explode.

"Right," she said, and turned to Longbottom. "I'll just head up to the press-room to get my hat and say goodbye. You can wait outside the Ministry, all right? I'm sure Pansy won't attack you again."

"I hope so!" said Neville.

"What?" exploded Draco. "You're just going to up and leave?"

"Yes! I'm off to raise curtains and wash snotty dishes in Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch!" With that, Ginny stormed out.

Draco scowled at the door she had slammed behind her.

"My throat hurts," said Pansy. "She really knows how to strangle, doesn't she."

"She has six older brothers," said Draco absently, "what do you expect?"

"It's all your fault," said Pansy, "why on earth couldn't you hang on to her, she's a great reporter and now she hates me."

"You'll live," said Draco, and left the room, too.

"Maybe if you used less makeup?" said Neville.

*

Ginny walked into the press-room only to come face to face with a vulture. A very dead vulture, complete with glass eyes and mouldy feathers.

"Ginevra Potter! What have you done to my grandson and why aren't we halfway to Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch by now?"

"It's Ginevra Weasley, Mrs. Longbottom," said Ginny, and stepped around the old witch. She really had to find her hat, it had cost her a fortune and was very flattering.

"It should be Ginevra Longbottom by now!" cried Mrs. Longbottom. "You've strung my Neville along for weeks, he keeps saying you'll settle down and give me some great-grandchildren, but here you are in a dirty broom closet writing about horrid murderers! Longbottom women never wrote books before you came along!"

"I only ever wrote the one book," said Ginny, "I'm a reporter, at heart."

"You're supposed to be a wife and a mother!"

Ginny battled down a snarky reply to this. After all, settling down with Neville was what she really wanted, wasn't it? Draco Malfoy would always send her down dirty mine shafts and then take off for two days, expecting her to find her own way up and write a prize-winning story while doing it. She lit a cigarette and puffed on it, trying to calm herself.

"And smoking! Really, has no one ever told you about the dangers of smoking? Isn't Hermione Granger your friend? Only last month, she sent me a leaflet about The Dangers Of Smoking And What To Do To Prevent Your Child From Smoking In Front Of The Pet Rats. Very educational!"

Ginny took a deep breath. But she could get Mrs. Longbottom on her side, at least - she was a great actor.

"Oh, please Mrs. Longbottom - Grandmother Longbottom - it's just that I'm nervous. Malfoy made me go talk to one of his horrid murderers just now, and then he upset Neville something fierce, and I only went along with it on behalf of the Unicorn Society! You know how much I love the breed!"

Mrs. Longbottom's face softened.

"Oh, child, don't worry. We'll save those ponies, we don't need Malfoy's ill-begotten money for that! In fact, I have been sketching out a breeding-program that I think-"

She was interrupted by a loud BANG! that made Ginny throw herself under a desk. It seemed she still had her war-time reflexes. The Ministry shook, and the lights flashed on and off for a minute.

"Get down!" she shouted at Mrs. Longbottom. "Someone's bombed the Ministry!"

"Certainly not!" cried Mrs. Longbottom, "A Longbottom never hides!"

"That explains why so few of you lived through Voldemort," said Ginny, but then she was distracted by a pounding on the door.

"Weasley! Are you in there?"

"Draco!"

"Stand back, the door is jammed!"

Ginny, knowing Malfoy, got up from under the desk and threw herself at Mrs. Longbottom, forcing them both to the floor. Neville would never forgive her if his Gran got hurt.

The door exploded. Malfoy rushed in, wand high. His hair was a mess, but he didn't look hurt.

"Are you all right?" He dragged Ginny up from the floor, patting her to make sure she had all her limbs, she supposed.

"Uhff, lay off it, I'm fine." She slapped his hands away. "Mrs. Longbottom! Gran! Are you alive?" She flung herself to her knees and grabbed the old woman's hand. "I can't feel her pulse, Draco!"

"That's because you're cutting it off with a death-grip." His voice was calm now, which in turn calmed Ginny. And in fact, Augusta Longbottom was trying to sit up.

"That was most unpleasant, Ginevra!"

"I'm sorry, Mrs, Longbottom," she said absently, helping her up from the floor. "Malfoy, what happened?"

"Something went off on Level One - something nasty." Their eyes met.

"Whitby?"

"Who else could it be?"

"Did he do it, or someone else?"

"I dunno - you where the last one to talk to him. Did he seem suicidal, to you?"

"Oh, really!" said Mrs. Longbottom.

"Suicidal? No... Crazy enough to blow himself up accidentally? Hell yes."

"Mm... I think the headline should be "Shake-up in the Ministry!"

"Front page, huh?"

"Front page, first, second, and third. Get writing, I'll get you all the info I can. Too bad I blasted the door, the others will be here soon. Make sure we get our edition out before The Quibbler goes to print, will you?"

"That's your job, now get me some info. I need some scrolls, dammit, I'll have to steal some off Parvati..."

"Ginevra! You're not going to sit here writing when you have no idea where my grandson is?"

"Oh! Oh, uhm, of course not!" Ginny blushed. She had forgotten about Neville again! Her eyes met Draco's.

"Don't worry, I'll go find him and Pansy first. You get writing!" He dashed out.

"Well, really! I begin to see why you married him!"

"We're divorced."

"It's hard to tell."

"Grandmother Longbottom, please let me finish this article and then we'll-"

"Nobody move!"

Ginny and Mrs. Longbottom looked up. In the doorway stood Kevin Whitby, and he was pointing a wand at them.

"Whitby?" Ginny crouched, made her hand inch slowly towards her wand pocket... "You're not going to do something stupid, are you?" She kept her voice cool. It had worked well during the War.

"Hands where I can see them! If you move, I'll blast the owls, I know I will! Ever seen how many feathers an owl has? Just try the Owl-Implosion Curse! I invented it myself!"

"Well, really," said Augusta Longbottom, "I knew letting Neville near you was a mistake, Ginevra! This man is clearly deranged, and why am I not surprised you know him?"

A/N: JK Rowling owns the setting and characters. This story is based on the Howard Hawks' movie His Girl Friday. Many thanks to everyone who lets me know you're still reading!

*

"Deranged?" said Kevin Whitby. "Haha! Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Oh, I dunno," said Ginny, "could it be that you invented a curse to implode owls? Or maybe it's just the way you roll your eyes crazily while you point your wand at us?"

"I'm not crazy! I just have a lot of things going on right now!"

"I'll say," said Ginny, "and you do realise that in about five seconds, a lot of really angry Aurors are going to storm in here and curse you?"

"Not if I fix this door!" cried Whitby, turning around and pointing at the door. Ginny grabbed for her wand, and started to shout a Stupefying Spell, when... she realised she didn't have her wand.

"Reparo!" cried Whitby, and the door repaired itself.

Malfoy had her damned wand! Stupid, stupid, stupid! To think they both got through the War alive, it was a damned miracle, the first bloody rule was never to let go of your wand. It was the only bloody rule, really!

She had grown soft, after the War, and daft in the head from Malfoy's thrice-damned kisses.

Whitby turned back to them.

"Oh, and before I forget, I want your wands! Hand 'em over!"

Mrs. Longbottom sighed and handed hers over. Then she sat down in a corner (the corner farthest away from the owls, Ginny noted).

"I don't have mine on me right now," she told Whitby.

"Oh, okay."

"So, what are you going to do now?"

"Now?"

"Yeah, you aren't going to sit here with me and Grandmother Longbottom all day, are you? Aren't you on the run, or something?"

"Yes I am! I'm on the run!"

"So... How did you manage to make a bomb? And how come you're not hurt; the explosion was big enough to take out the lights on this level!"

"Oh, it wasn't that big... I think I know why- What are you doing?"

"Writing this down. I'm a reporter, remember? I came by your cell a while ago, and asked you questions?"

"Oh, yes. I thought maybe that was just a cover. Some women like men who are in prison, you know. They write them letters and..." he mumbled something.

"What?"

"He was trying to pronounce 'conjugal visits'," said Mrs. Longbottom, "and if you think you've got a chance with her, young man, you are even more stupid than you look! And you do look like a very stupid young man!"

"I don't look stupid!" cried Whitby, and threw the owls a really crazy look.

"Relax, both of you!" said Ginny sharply. "We don't want any unfortunate owl accidents, do we, Grandmother Longbottom?"

"I-"

"No, don't answer that, that was a rhetorical question. Listen, Kevin, have you any idea where you are going? It's not like you can jump out of the window!"

"Stupid underground buildings! Who ever came up with the idea for that one, I wonder?"

"Well, it helps when we're being bombed, you know. The house doesn't collapse, for one."

"For a reporter, you sure know a lot about building codes, Ginny Weasley. And anyway, it wasn't really a bomb. My cell was next to the building's power supply, that's why it got dark for a bit."

"Well, you would know!"

"You'd think so, wouldn't you? But no, this is just stuff I've figured out on my own. I didn't build a bomb out of spare parts of rats and last night's supper!"

"No, but I bet you tried," muttered Mrs. Longbottom.

"If you didn't blow yourself out of there, who did?" said Ginny, furiously taking notes with the only quill she could find - an ordinary one.

"How should I know? Maybe it was one of my female admirers! Maybe it was an owl! For all I know, Harry Effing Potter did it!"

Ginny blinked. Now there was a theory. Harry and Hermione wanted Whitby out of jail, to be sure. But surely they wouldn't... She decided not to share this bit of speculation with Whitby and Mrs. Longbottom.

"Anyway, when life hands you lemons, don't you bake a pie with them?"

"...What?"

"Well, I wasn't going to stick around and ask questions, was I? I ran as fast as I could as soon as I noticed the wall was blasted away."

"I see we have a strategical genius with us today."

"Mrs. Longbottom, that's not helping! Kevin, don't point the wand at her!"

Whitby pointed it at Ginny instead, which really wasn't much better.

"I thought we were friends. After all, you loved me at Hogwarts. You were heartbroken when I dumped you, I know, but it would never have worked, Ginny."

"What? I dumped you! And we weren't an item - it was one date!"

"Let's not quibble over details," said Whitby magnanimously.

"Listen, you weird little wizard..."

"Don't you look at me like that!" The wand shook in his hand. "I have yet to try my owl-implosion curse on a human, but you can be the first to try it out!"

That was when Ginny got tired of waiting for Malfoy or Neville or Harry or a random Auror or some other useless man who was never around when you really needed some male strength or at least a wand, and threw her quill down.

"That's it! I don't believe for a minute that you killed Dirk Cresswell, and if you didn't kill him, you're not a killer - except maybe an owl-killer, but I'm not Hermione - hence, you won't kill me if I... take your wand!"

Draco Malfoy had trained Ginny Weasley in hand-to-hand combat during the War. She wondered how he'd judge her head-on tackling of Whitby, which mostly consisted of her throwing herself right at him and grabbing for the wand. Draco would probably not give her points for style - but it worked. She stepped back and pointed the wand at Whitby.

"I think we just rewrote the book," said Ginny, feeling like something like that ought to be said at a time like this.

"Oh, no need to get all dramatic," said Whitby, "I lied about the owl-implosion curse, anyway."

"Now you tell me?" said Ginny. She broke the wand in two and threw it into a fireplace. "That's evidence we don't need. But now what do we do?"

"Hide me?"

"I think we should call the Aurors!" said Mrs. Longbottom. Ginny had almost forgotten about her.

"I think not. If it wasn't Kevin who let himself out, maybe it wasn't so much a 'female admirer or an owl' who set off that bomb."

"What are you saying?" said Whitby. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"What do you think I'm saying?"

"That I have male admirers too?"

"Yes, Kevin, that's exactly what I'm saying. You've been looking at the wrong side of the fence all this time. What a good thing that I came along to set you right. You really owe me one."

"...Yes?"

"Or, I dunno, maybe I'm thinking that it wasn't a friend who let you out, maybe, I dunno, I'm just speculating, but maybe whoever let you out wanted you to run away in a really spectacular way so whoever caught you could kill you on the spot and no questions would be asked! But no, your theory makes so much more sense!"

"I think Ginevra feels a bit under-appreciated," said Mrs. Longbottom to the world at large.

"How could I possibly, what with all the continued support from you, Grandmother Longbottom?"

"Sarcasm will get you anywhere, as long as you also pay the Galleons for the tickets."

"Hello?" said Whitby. "I'm still here? Chased by people who want me dead?"

"So I guess you decided my theory was better than yours."

"All I'm saying is that it has got merits! It could still be a female admirer! But until we make sure it is, I think you're obliged to help me!"

"I am?"

"You want your article, don't you? An exclusive?"

"Well, yes."

"Well, then, all you have to do is make sure that no one comes barging in here and kills me."

"Oh, that's all, is it?"

Whitby opened his mouth but didn't have time to speak before there was a knock on the door. Ginny swore.

"You have to hide! Here, squeeze into the roll-top desk! Quickly!"

Whitby climbed in and Ginny closed the desk. She glared at Mrs. Longbottom.

"He's a dead man if you tell anyone!"

"Oh, I won't say a word. Except to say that you're both crazy."

The knock came again, and Ginny went to open the door. Hermione Granger entered, looking very calm and collected, thought Ginny, who was a mess from crawling under desks and grappling with various men.

"'Ullo, 'ullo, I'm just making sure no one's hurt. Had a bit of an accident with the lights, didn't we? Well, no worries, it's all been taken care of now. Mrs. Longbottom," and Hermione gave the old lady a friendly wave while she glanced around the room.

"Hermione-"

"Sorry Ginny, can't stay. Seeing a man about an owl, and all that. Bye bye!"

She closed the door behind her. Ginny could have sworn she hadn't looked harder at the roll-top desk than at anything else in the room, but she was left feeling like she had just been handled - by Hermione, and therefore by Harry. And it was a most annoying feeling!