Favourite Line

The Art of Deception

"Seriously," he continued. "I think you could stare it down. That's door's always been a coward."

Autograph

"Just stop speaking," he instructed her, breathing warm air onto her ear.

For the Love of the Game

“Merlin's hairy balls! What the hell is this and who the hell are you?”

Color Commentary

Draco held up the cup in his hands. “Gingerbread latte. Best damn thing Muggles have ever come up with.”

Winner Takes it All

'You look like a child predator.'

The Year Without Slytherin

"So give him a blowjob and take the house," Baddock said with a shrug.

The Best Laid Plans of Theodore Nott

He was in Muggle clothes. It was a travesty. It was an outrage. It was... Bloody hell, my arse looks fantastic in these trousers, Draco thought as he looked in the mirror.

Femme Fatale

"Maybe if you stayed in on occasion, I wouldn't have to keep requisitioning new filing cabinets. I'd swear that Stevens in supply thinks I have a fetish."

Finding Time at Bamburgh View

"It means that I remember Jasper Dunwoody's last New Year's party with perfect clarity. You, however, probably don't."

Snarkiest Conversation

Ginny cocked her head at him. "What? Aren't you going to tell me I have no business entering the competition? Aren't you going to tell me how awful I'll be?"

Draco shrugged casually. "It's no business of mine. Besides, I figure one less Weasley in the world is a good thing."

The corner of Ginny's mouth lifted and Draco said cursed silently in his head. She probably expected him to say such things. He hated being predictable.

"Why are you entering? Tired of murdering and pillaging?"

"Of course. Even us Death Eaters get tired of the same old-same old," he returned. "Thought I'd try this instead. Anything illegal to get by." -The Pike

"I was trying to get you drunk, you know," Draco began, sipping at the tea she had made for them both.

Ginny stared at him.

"You were much too boring without Firewhisky. Much too uptight. A bit like the way Granger used to be, you know," he elaborated. Pausing, he added quickly, "And you kissed me."

My mother is abroad on holiday." Draco was now close enough for Ginny to smell his after shave. He loomed over her, dominating.

"Then you try taking it down or I blow the entire wall," Ginny threatened, her wand's tip pointing into Draco's chest. Draco laughed at her threat.

"Judging by your enormous mouth and promiscuous attire, you'd be the bint to blow the wall."

"All I have to do for an update on your life, Malfoy, is to take a look at the gossip column of Witch Weekly. Are you sure you want your boss talking about your sexual exploits with Connie? Tammie? Nikki? Which one was it this week?"

"It was Tiffany," Draco said with a smirk. "I didn't know you had a subscription to Witch Weekly, Granger."

“What are you doing?” she asked suspiciously. Was he afraid to go by himself?

“Walking,” he answered simply, not looking over at her.

“The dungeons are not in this direction,” she pointed out with a frown.

“Oh, is that so?” he asked sarcastically, making a face. “You see, after attending this school for seven years and longer now, I still can’t quite figure out where everything is.”

Ginny scowled. “Drop the crap, Malfoy. Why are you following me?”

“If I was following you, I would be behind you. As it stands, I am beside you, thus it’s safe to assume that I am accompanying you.”

“I don’t need a vocabulary lesson, Malfoy!” she snapped, getting more irritated.

"Stop being so stubborn. Every moment that you keep me freezing my arse off is not going to make me any cheerier. I understand that you're probably not too comfortable around me at the moment…"

"You're not exactly helping!"

"But don't martyr yourself over it."

Ginny scowled at him, unable to think of a decent retort. He had her trapped - literally.

She angrily dragged her sweatshirt over her head.

"There's a good girl."

"I hate you," she snapped.

"I think we've already established that is not entirely true."

Ginny hit him squarely in the face with her shirt.”

"Fine." Draco sighed and reached into his back pocket, pulling out a black velvet box. He thrust it at her. "Marry me?"

"Gee, that's romantic," she commented dryly.

He glared at her, his perfectly shaped eyebrows pointing downwards into a perfect vee. "I've already tried romantic. You had your chance."

"Malachite Shadow," she grumbled, pushing past the reporter and stalking over to the masked man in his fedora. "What just happened?"

"They're praising me. I stopped an evil-doer most foul," the man replied, smirking at her, just like that prat Malfoy. "And you look like crap, by the way."

"More foul than an attempted murderer? 'Cause stopping him is why I'm such a mess," Ginny snapped. Her knuckles were scraped, her jaw bruised, and her lip still trickling blood from the run in with the burly man. She was not in the mood for foolishness, and it appeared that this, this prat was determined to poke at her last nerve.

"I stopped that man," he said, pointing to a very grumpy looking man. "He was attempting to abscond with that child's confection."

"Let me get this straight," Ginny said, nostrils flaring slightly as she exhaled. "I subdue a would-be murderer, while you stop a diabetic from leveling his blood sugar levels, and they're going crazy over you?"

"Well, I am prettier," Draco reasoned, amused at the outrage emanating off the red-head.

Best Prose (Passage that knocks you on your ass)

Lost and Found

His blond hair, matted with rain and mud lay still in the bitter breeze, and storm-colored eyes were open wide with nothing to see. She placed her lips to his in a final goodbye; at least this time, the fate had given her a way to tell him that she loved him.

For the Love of the Game

Ginny smirked down at Draco. “Gwenog Jones just gave me her robe. Say goodbye to your private collection, Draco, because you are so going to lose this wager.”

“It's all right,” Draco wrapped one hand around Ginny's ankle. “I have what I really want right here.”

The Pike

"No one has ever loved me before," Draco panted, his hips moving like pistons between her thighs. Their eyes locked. "And I've never loved anyone either. You are the first."

"The last," she corrected him. "I'm also the last."

The Black Alder Tree

Ginny looked at him and wished that she could hate him - she wished she could hate him for playing a part in all of this and thinking that he could still comfort her. She wished she could hate Neville, for bringing this upon them, just as she wished she could hate the Order, for taking Draco away from her. She wished that she could hate someone other than herself, but she couldn't - she couldn't hate them. They were all just doing what they believed was right, what they believed would help make the world better. She envied them, their conviction and their faith. They all knew what they believed.

Ginny Weasley, on the other hand, had no idea what to believe anymore.

The Truth Will Out

"Chocolate?"

Ginny's eyes narrowed to slits. "Why would I want chocolate?"

"You told me that you crave chocolate around this time," Draco explained cautiously.

"Oh? And what is this time?" Ginny asked with an edge of danger to her voice.

"You know," Draco uttered uncomfortably.

"No, I don't know," Ginny replied innocently. "You'll have to tell me."

Draco glanced around to make sure they were alone. "It's your grumpy time," he whispered hurriedly.

Seekers and Secrets

It wasn't that he couldn't find a name for himself anywhere he wanted to. It was that he wanted to do something that would force even his toughest critics to eat their words. That part of him still had the intense need to prove his own skill, that Potter had always just been lucky in school, was a notion he refused to entertain. Still, he had his smirk permanently etched on his face as he walked to the pitch, the latest model Firebolt on his shoulder. He was taller than most Seekers, but the days of Krum and brutish Seekers was over. Now the teams were looking for lithe and agile.

Lost and Found

Her heartbeat mocked her, because it was still beating, and his no longer would. How could this have happened? She had already lost him once, why a second time?

“Ginny, I’m sorry, I had to! Look at him! He took the mark!”

Harry’s reasoning made so little sense to her brain, nothing mattered now. Ginny had thought she was going to be okay, that she could have survived his death, but in the course of a few minutes her world had been resurrected, only to come crashing down around her.

His blond hair, matted with rain and mud lay still in the bitter breeze, and storm-coloured eyes were open wide with nothing to see. She placed her lips to his in a final goodbye; at least this time, the fate had given her a way to tell him that she loved him.

Man in the Box

“He didn't know what he was doing, didn't know what he would say, only that the world had almost ended and he had never even spoken to her, touched her. He was not unaware that he was not a brave man, but as he slipped through the door into the darkness that precedes dawn, he felt the air thicken with destiny and fulfillment and only the fact that he wasn't sure he'd ever have a chance to see her again made him keep moving forward.”

The Black Alder Tree

"No, Ginny, don't - don't cry," Draco said frantically, brushing away her teardrops with his thumb. "Why are you even -"

Ginny shook her head. "I don't know," she choked out, half-laughing at the silliness of it all. Draco was the one whose life was literally falling apart, and here she was, crying.

Draco pulled her close, and she knew that he was trying to make this hurt go away, just as he had with all the others, all those nights in the past. And it broke her heart - how he tried so hard to save her, when he couldn't even save himself.

Finding Time at Bamburgh View

"I have done many things in life that I regret. Most of which you are no doubt fully acquainted with. The thing that I regret the most, though, is the fact that once again I seem to have completely messed things up between us."

"Again?" she asked, her voice straining to be above a whisper.

"Again. You'll come back to me though. I know you will." Draco leaned closer, his mouth hovering over hers. When he spoke, there was a knowing tone to this voice that sent a shiver up her spine. "We've tried every way we can, you and me, Ginny. Each time something slightly different changes, and each time we end up just a little bit closer. You'll be amazed by some of the stories."

Best Kiss

"Shut up, Weasley," he answered irritably and cut off the rest of the protests with his mouth. The instant his lips touched hers, a spark jumped from her to him and traveled through his body until his cock was swollen, his blood was singing and his head was spinning. He breathed shallowly through his nose, pressing her harder into the tree until he was plastered against her front. His mouth assaulted her softer, more pliant one and his tongue swept inside to coax hers to come out and play.

As if she had a choice. Ginny could not stop herself from slowly melting into him and wrapping her arms around his neck to lift up on tiptoes so that she could press her mouth against his harder. Dimly, a part of her brain registered that he still tasted the same - smooth, cool peppermint. Draco's hands slid down to grip her buttocks and he lifted her even higher so that she had no choice but to wrap her legs around his waist while he continued plundering her mouth. His arousal nestled comfortably between her thighs while his tongue plunged and then retreated and then tangled with hers and withdrew completely until he was sucking only on her bottom lip. She whimpered at the teasing and he chuckled darkly in his throat before angling his head to give her what she wanted. Her hands traced muscles they had never forgotten about and found some new ones they longed to discover.

…so knowing he'd probably get slapped or worse, but not caring anymore, his lips touched hers. Softly, he pressed his mouth against hers, the scent of cinnamon beckoning to him as he slid his tongue along the seam of her lips. With a soft moan, her lips opened at the insistence of his probing tongue, even as his arms tightened around her, pulling her compliant body flush against his.

Ginny was burning now -on fire- between the hot cinnamon candy pressed between her teeth and cheek and Draco's tongue swirling aimlessly around hers. Clutching his shoulders tightly, she pushed him down onto the sofa in her office, falling on top of him, all without breaking the kiss.

Draco's nose grazed hers lightly, up and down, nudging a little. His hot breath caressed her cheek, setting the skin on fire. The anticipation of his mouth on hers had her stomach flip-flopping and her lips aching for his touch. She'd never thought of him as being timid around women, but that was exactly the way he started - soft and slow, almost unsure about how to proceed. By the time Draco had committed to the kiss every fiber in her being was tingling. Her hands roamed over his back, mapping his toned body and storing that information for later. Ginny was only vaguely aware of his hands on her face; they were moving in time with his mouth, gently stroking her skin in a way that was feeding the blaze that had ignited in her core.

“It’s snowing,” she finally whispered, putting her head back as well to stare at the dull blue sky and the tiny white flakes pushed around on the air currents. “Do we get a wish?”

“Only if it’s accompanied by...” he breathed, leaning in close, and just barely gracing her lips with his, “a kiss.”

She closed her eyes, willing back the tears. The line had been crossed, things would change again.

“Don’t,” he murmured, running his thumb along her eyelashes. “I didn’t mean to...”

She pushed him into a tree trunk and gripped his neck with her other hand. Her lips found his again in a tentative, shaky and unsure movement, eyes drawn closed by tears and intensity of the moment. His hand slowly burrowed into her hair, not wanting to startle her away from him, and their kiss stretched into indefinite reaches of time. They warmed each other from the inside out, waiting for the cold to melt away between their shared tears and battling tongues. Finally, there was no more air left, no more heat, only one painful, chapped, dry kiss on an empty November afternoon.

“His lips crashed roughly against hers as his fingers dug harder into her arms. Their lips fit together perfectly, like a blanket wrapped around a body. His tongue sought permission to access her mouth and she greedily accepted it. He moved his hands from the tight grasp on her arms to holding her lower back tightly, pressing her hard against him. It felt like they couldn’t get closer to each other, the need was boiling their blood. Every hair was standing straight up on his body, crying to touch the soft alabaster of her skin. For the first time in his life, he felt like he belonged right where he was, at that exact moment.”

He picked up her hand, the one that bore his ring, and kissed it tenderly. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. Next, her other hand, still bleeding slightly. “I’m sorry.” Her shoulder. Behind her ear. “I’m sorry.” The corner of her mouth next. “I’m sorry.”

Her hands fisted in his hair as she pulled herself against him. In the instant before she slammed her lips to his, she experienced a sense of wonder at how the course of her life had directed her here, to this moment, with him. And then the thought flashed away, replaced by the taste of him, the feel of his stubble scraping against her skin, and, winding its way into her brain, his scent, twining with the overwhelming need to be close, to touch every part of him.