Revised to correct the misspelling of Ginevra.

A/N: This was just a one-shot that popped into my head.

Anon: Thanks for pointing out my misspelling of Ginevra. It's been corrected.

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I am Ginevra Weasley and I am alone and currently not in love.

Why?

Well I have a theory about my future husband and love of my life and it goes as follows: HE'S PROBABLY BEING HELD HOSTAGE IN SOME FOREIGN PRISON!

Go figure.

Yeah, being held hostage in some foreign prison which coincides with my horrible luck. I swear the gods, fates or whatever higher power up there that gets a kick out of playing with peoples lives is getting an almighty kick out of mine. He or she is probably in some long running contest to see who can cause the greatest ruckus in someone's pathway to love. Well if that's the case they are certainly doing a good job. Someone give the god a cookie.

I can't say I've ever truly been in love. I've most defiantly been infatuated with men. Many, many men.

There are a lot of delectable men out their. I mean really have you seen the buffet lately. Hogwarts had quite the assembly line, but then when I graduated that assembly line just got grandeur. Naturally there are the duds and you just throw them off the line because there is really no use in dealing with deficient products; leaving still a delectable array of scrumptious treats.

I had my foray of men throughout Hogwarts. The famed Harry Potter perhaps being the most profound. Harry and I had great times and I satisfied my young childhood crush after that and decided Harry and I were better off as friends. Harry was defiantly a stepping stone in my life and it helped me grow, but one thing I do know is he was too much a good boy for me. He's your classic hero and he did a great job of rescuing the damsel in distress during that horrid Chamber of Secrets incident.

Harry Potter, good boy and hero extraordinaire.

I don't do good boys.

I need a bad boy.

The bad boy is always more exciting.

Dare I say….stimulating?

And……

HE'S BEING HELD HOSTAGE IN SOME FOREIGN PRISON!

How do I know this?

Well besides the aforementioned reasons of the gods getting a kick out of this I know my bad boy and future love of my life and husband-to-be is being held hostage in some foreign prison because in order to be a bad boy he'd have to have done something to piss someone off and thus landing himself in some foreign prison. Now he just needs to get out so I can meet him and we can fall in love and start going at it like rabbits and making beautiful babies. Although, not necessarily in that order.

That of course would please my mother to no end. Except she'd prefer that I be married first before Bad Boy extraordinaire and I had mind blowing sex and beautiful babies.

I was rudely snapped out of my thoughts by my lovely brother Ron slapping the Daily Prophet on the table. Sadly, I still live at home at twenty-three. I have an apartment in town, but with the way my mother carries on, believe me its just better to at least pretend to live at home. In an effort to keep the peace that is. Sometimes I wish I weren't so damn dutiful.

I scrunched my nose at this. My life had become pathetic. But that my dears is probably another story for another day.

Ron slapped the paper on the table so roughly that the cups clattered in their saucers and the apple on top of the pyramid of fruit in the fruit bowl teetered off and fell to the floor. It made an awful splat. There went a perfectly good piece of fruit. I scowled at my brother. He could be such a git sometimes.

"Damn git got what he deserved. Have you seen it Ginny?" Ron was pointing gleefully at the headline and large photo gracing the front page.

Malfoy Heir Found In Wizard Prison of Inferno Escuro

I froze. Wasn't this a little ironic that I was thinking about my future husband and love of my life being held hostage in some foreign prison and an article to such an effect somehow appears in the Daily Prophet. I had a feeling things were just about to get a lot worse.

Lisbon, Portugal---- Draco Malfoy, the only son of reputed Deatheater Lucius Malfoy, was found in the Portuguese Wizard prison of Inferno Escure (Dark Hell) yesterday having been sentenced to a term of 10 to 15 years for crimes against the Wizard population of Portugal.

Here I snorted. How ironic that the spawn of Lucifer end up in a prison coined Dark Hell. And how like the gods to play a cruel cosmic joke on me when I know my future love is being held hostage in a foreign prison and they given me the one that made my life and my families hell, literally, on earth.

Of course it would be Draco bloody Malfoy. I slapped my head with the palm of my hand. The injustice of it all. Life was so unfair.

He was captured enroute to France on the night before the fall of the Dark Lord. Authorities confiscated secrets of the Light upon his person and it is believed he had every intention of turning over the information to the Dark Lord.

The British Ministry of Magic had declared the errant Draco Malfoy as dead and it was believed he'd been a casualty of the war. They have been apparently mistaken for the twenty-four year old heir of Malfoy has been for the last seven years wiling away in Inferno Escure

Malfoy appears to be in apparent good health, albeit his trademark Malfoy hair is longer and his stature more sculpted and defined. The British Ministry had requested that Malfoy be extradited in order to try him for crimes committed within the British territory.

Rumors have run rampant since the discovery of Draco Malfoy in Inferno Escure and some Portuguese citizens have cried of Draco Malfoy's innocence and demand that he be released from the dismal prison.

No decisions have been made at this time for either his release or extradition, but one thing can be said for sure that the fate of Draco Malfoy is currently in limbo.

"You see justice will always be done one way or another."

I raised an eyebrow at my brother as I finished reading the article. The gods surely must hate me.

I paused to look at the photo of Draco Malfoy. How wrong was it that I found him attractive? Hell, he looked almost….swarthy. I swallowed hard. I was treading dangerous territory. His muscles had become sculpted and defined probably from the years of hard labor inside the prison walls. I bit my bottom lip. I could practically feel his muscles rippling beneath my hands and the white cotton shirt the prison had him in did nothing to hide his sinewy muscle mass.

Yep, pure sculpted male. That was bad for my train of thought since it was surely going south. Oh, very, very bad.

His jaw was chiseled and his cheekbones high. His lips looked firm and utterly kissable. I unconsciously licked my lips in anticipation and shifted slightly in my chair. His hair was longer but still the classic Malfoy blonde. It was messy and rugged. He was messy and rugged and; I put a hand to my chest to still my rapid breathing, swarthy. He looked like a devilish and sinful pirate. I wanted to ride him in the choppy and dangerous ocean. It would be a turbulent storm of rough winds and moaning breaths of unimaginable ecstasy.

I quickly grabbed a glass of water and threw it on top of my head and let it drip down me in an attempt to cool off. I was breathing quite hard. It had been too long since I'd had decent sex that satisfied me and it obviously was evident because I was hot for one Draco Malfoy who at the moment was being held hostage in some foreign prison. This was morally and socially wrong.

Than why in the hell am I, Ginevra Weasley, still wanting to experience the sin that is Draco Malfoy?

Merlin, I could practically feel him inside me. The Daily Prophet suddenly became scrunched between my hands.

Ron looked at me oddly. "Ginny, what in the name of Merlin is wrong with you and why did you just throw water all over yourself?"

I smiled sheepishly. "Well….I….er….I was feeling a little….um peaked."

I cringed. If only he knew. Then I'd be dead.

Thank Merlin for my brother's idiocy sometimes.

"Well justice has been served," I muttered in an attempt to appease my brother. Ron nodded and then left the kitchen still obviously miffed at my behavior.

I stood up and went outside to the garden and looked at the sky. I scowled at whatever god was looking down.

"You are all just sick. Draco Malfoy of all people. What in the hell are you idiots thinking?"

Nothing.

Yeah, of course the bastards wouldn't answer. I huffed in frustration.

My future husband and love of my life is being held hostage in some foreign prison.

It's Draco Malfoy!

Bloody hell!

The sex better be damn good.

-Fin-