This was originally posted in The DG Forum's winter fic exchange last March. Since our summer exchange is coming to an end (you'll see the stories posted over the next few weeks), I thought I'd go ahead and post this under my own account.

I'm happy to say that this piece won a bunch of awards, including Best Characterization of Ginny AND of Draco, Best Kiss, and Most In Need of a Sequel. I'm still contemplating that last one...

Enjoy.

Ginny threw down her quill with an angry sigh.

"This is pointless," she announced to her refrigerator. She crumpled the paper into a small ball and pitched it into the trash bin.

"And that's another ten points for the Pride! Ginny Weasley is on fire tonight!" she proclaimed, then stood up and walked to the fridge. She opened it and raised an eyebrow. Surely it was possible to concoct something edible from a can of garbanzo beans, broccoli, and peanut butter. She cocked her head and looked in the fridge again.

"Nope." she said aloud, wandering to the fireplace and kicking the fridge door shut with her knee as she turned around. "Chinese it is."

A few minutes later, a container of sweet and sour chicken popped through the fireplace. Ginny picked it up and pulled at the chopsticks that were attached to the lid. She thought about attempting to use them for half a second before she remembered the Szechwan Incident. Sighing, she stalked back to the kitchen for a fork. Plopping on the floor in front of her couch, she shoved the day's paper off the coffee table and set the container in front of her. She speared a bite with zest and shoveled the yummy food into her mouth with a contented sigh.

"And I was always onto you about your room!"

Ginny's head shot up. Her mother's face emerged from the fireplace.

"Mum! What on earth?"

"You haven't stopped by the Burrow for dinner in two weeks! I thought I ought to check on my baby girl. Honestly, Ginny, how can you live in this filth? I raised you better than this. I warned your father, when you moved out, I did. I told him you'd die of starvation or be buried in laundry before the summer was up."

"Mum!" Ginny complained, "Give a girl some privacy and have the decency to call before you just stick your head into my living room and my business!"

"Funny you should mention business, Ginny. How is the application for that internship coming? Your father said there were memos gone out today at work about it. The deadline for the application is next week."

"All right, mum. All right. I was just working on it before dinner. I'm taking a break to eat, you know?"

"Yes. What are you eating? It looks…odd."

"It's Chinese, mum. And it's heavenly."

"Yes, well. Your father is so excited about this internship. He's always wanted one of his children to follow in his footsteps and work in the Department of Muggle Artifacts with him, you know."

Ginny nodded and tucked a loose red curl back behind her ear. "Yes mum, I know."

"Have you asked Harry about being a reference for you? After everything that happened in the war, I'm sure having his name on the application wouldn't hurt."

Ginny closed her eyes and ran her hand down her face.

"I'll do it, mum. I told you I'd do it."

"Well, that's fine then, dear. I know you don't want to wait tables at Flambish's forever."

Ginny kept her eyes closed. "No, mum. I really don't."

Molly Weasley looked hard at her youngest child—well, as hard as she could through the fireplace, anyway.

"Well, I hope you get the placement. I'm sure you will. I love you, Gin."

"Love you too, mum."

When Ginny opened her eyes, her mum was gone. Sitting next to the fireplace, however, was a memo from the Ministry of Magic. It was addressed to all internal employees, reminding them that the positions for fall internships at the Ministry included openings in the areas of Misuse of Muggle Artifacts (sigh), Muggle Worthy Excuse Committee (yawn) , Broom Regulatory Control (double yawn), and in The International Magical Office of Law.

Ginny's jaw dropped. She re-read the sentence in disbelief. The internships in international law always filled up quickly; she couldn't believe that the Ministry had included it on a list with so many undesirable positions. A spot in the International Magical Office of Law could change her life. She could travel, be responsible for things like the Quidditch Cup—she caught her breath and ran to the kitchen to find her quill.

She had an application to write.

She scribbled furiously for the next ten minutes, jotting down all of her thoughts about her passion for the justice and cooperation, her own experiences, and with a grimace, she even mentioned her connection to "Harry the Hero."

The clock on the wall startled her with a loud BONG, followed by "Hurry up, dear, or you'll be late. Hurry up, dear, or you'll be late!"

Ginny gave the clock a death glare and flicked at it with her wand until it shut up. Shoving her application to the side of the low table, she shoveled a few more bites of chicken into her mouth. Still chewing, she walked down the hallway into her bedroom and changed into the elegant black shirt and skirt that she wore at Flambish's.

-

Ginny Apparated into the back room of the classy restaurant exactly one minute before she was late. Tossing her bag and her wand into a locker, she shook out her hair and pulled the unruly loose red curls away from her face into a low bundle at the back of her neck.

"Weasley!" called another waiter, "You're very nearly late. I was worried I'd have to work a double!"

"Hello to you too, Luke," she called, sidestepping him, "And you were not worried. You love the overtime pay as much as the next person. Besides, you know I was here on time, and now you can leave. How is it tonight?"

Luke shrugged. "A normal Friday night. Bunch of rich people coming to see and be seen, as usual."

"Right." Ginny tied on a small black apron and slid an order book into the front pocket. She popped a magical earpiece into her right ear.

"Weasley, table twenty-four has just been seated." a voice crackled into her ear.

"Got to go, Luke. Have a nice night."

Ginny stepped out onto the floor of the dining room and swept a carefree curl back behind her ear with a confident hand. She approached the four top, smiled politely, and pulled the order book and quill from her pocket.

"Good evening, and welcome to Flambish's"

"Why, if it isn't the Weasel's little sister," drawled a platinum blond from the corner of the booth. "Really, love, they make a hero's sister wait tables now, do they?"

Ginny bristled but kept her face calm and smiled sweetly at her customers.

"No, Mr. Malfoy. Some of us prefer to make our own way in the world."

Malfoy smirked. "Oooh, well, it's hard to get anywhere in the world when you haven't a knut to your name."

Ginny's smile grew forced. "At least I'll have earned every one of them and not had them handed to me on a golden platter."

Draco's eyes sparkled. "No, love. My house elves save the golden platters for the galleons. I get my knuts off of silver ones."

His companions laughed. Two were girls that Ginny vaguely recognized—Astoria Greengrass had been in her year at Hogwarts, and the other was a Ravenclaw from Ron's year. The fourth member of the party was Blaise Zabini, and she turned to him.

"Can I take your order, Mr. Zabini?" She said, ignoring Malfoy's smug look and the two tittering sycophants who were fawning all over him. Disgusting excuses for women.

Blaise scrunched his nose and peered at the menu. "I'll have the lamb. Can you recommend a wine for that?"

"We have a fine selection. The sommelier will assist you with your choice momentarily." She replied robotically as her quill wrote down his order. "And you?" she asked the Ravenclaw.

Astoria ordered a salad, and when Ginny turned to the other girl she quickly ordered, "I'll have what she's having."

Ginny finally turned to Draco, who still hadn't wiped the smirk from his face. "What would you like, Mr. Malfoy?"

"Hmm," he began, looking not at the menu but straight into her face, "tell me, Weaslette, aren't there about a million other things an intelligent, beautiful young witch can do to earn a living?"

Ginny gritted her teeth. "What do you want tonight, Mr. Malfoy?"

He grinned evilly at her. "I'd tell you, but it would involve language hardly appropriate for such a high quality establishment."

Ginny mentally counted the days until the internships started. No, she couldn't hex him and lose her job yet. She needed the next few weeks of pay, no matter how satisfying bat bogeys would be.

"As fascinating as the prospect is, I'm merely interested in giving you something to eat."

"Oh, are you? Because I have some ideas about exactly what you could give me, you know. Go ahead. Make my day."

Ginny seethed. It took every ounce of her energy to not start jamming her quill through his arrogant, smug eyes. Instead, she proffered an incredibly forced smile and replied tightly, "If you need some more time to make your selection, I can give you a few moments. I'll be back."

"No, I don't think that's necessary, love. I'll have what Blaise is having."

He smiled like a Cheshire cat as she took the menu from him.

"Send the sommelier over. We need a good celebratory vintage."

Ginny arched her eyebrows and nodded curtly, ready to turn away when Astoria spoke up.

"We're celebrating Draco's internship, you know."

Ginny clenched her jaw. "Internship placements aren't public for three more weeks." The words were out before she could stop them.

Draco waved a hand dismissively. "I'm a Malfoy, Weasley. These things are—" he stopped and his eyes tightened on hers. Ginny had never realized that his eyes were such a steely grey before. "Is little Miss Weasley also applying for an internship at the Ministry? Well, I suppose with your connections to Potter you're probably apt to get in somewhere. Muggle artifacts, perhaps?"

"No, Mr. Malfoy. International Magical Office of Law," she practically spat.

Draco raised his eyebrows and leaned back in his seat and Blaise guffawed. The girls tittered.

"Draco, aren't you going to get the internship there?" questioned Astoria worriedly.

Draco kept his eyes fixed on Ginny. The teasing had gone out of them completely, and instead he stared at her with a mixture of competitive arrogance, slight disbelief, and—yes, searching interest. Ginny self-consciously bit her lip but matched his gaze evenly.

"Yes, Astoria darling. Yes I am."

A/N: I disclaim. Movie lines scattered here and there, in no particular order, are from: Sudden Impact, The Wizard of Oz, Grand Hotel, When Harry Met Sally, and The Terminator.

Reviews are, of course, much appreciated.

Written for shewhodanceswithsquirrels:

Basic Outline: postwar, just out of school, obviously disregarding the epilouge. D and G are competing for an important internship spot in the ministry, can be whatever type of internship. Ends when somebody gets the internship. light hearted/ humour

Must haves: Ginny is independent but her family is a big part of her life.

-Draco persistently trying to use the sexual tension between them as leverage

-Eventually act on said tension, doesn't necessarily have to effect the running of the race however.

No-no's: ginny making draco good; draco making ginny bad, they are who they are, they just compliment each other.

-Draco's father having any influence on whether he gets the job or not; the wealth factor is up to you if you want to use it or not.

-blaise/luna, any past d/g, any past d/hermione

Bonus: If ginny saves draco from a potentially embarrassing predicament

-constant referall to american movies (does not mean that they hae to talk about it, but include lines that are straight out of movies)