Happy Holidays, THIMBLE-KISS!
Title: Under Fire
Author: katmarajade
Written for: thimble_kiss
Pairing: Zacharias/Ginny
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 871
Prompt: holiday cease fire
Summary: Roger Davies, Editor in Chief at the Daily Prophet, puts his top two reporters on the fluff story of the season. They are not happy about it.
Notes: I loved this idea and actually hope to come back and flesh this out into a full length fic. For now, however, have this glimpse of these two in all their witty, snarky, bickering glory. The UST between these two makes me grin just thinking about it. Pre-pairing because I totally ran out of time and this got away from me!
"No way!"
"Sir, you can't do this!"
"Enough!" Roger Davies, Editor-in-Chief of the Daily Prophet held up his hand and gave his top two reporters his sternest stare. "You two will cease this ridiculous, childish crap immediately. I know you don't like each other and I know you both have a long list of reasons and I frankly do not give a damn. Right now, you will work together and cover this story. You will grit your teeth, put smiles on your faces, and play nice. We all know this is an utter fluff piece and a complete waste of time. However, this is the kind of PR nonsense we have to do in order to stay afloat. So you two will be at Bachelor Auction, you will get an interview with Potter without hurling insults, and you will bring me back a cheerful, feel-good piece of crap to put on my front page that shows that the Daily Prophet plays nice with the Ministry and supports war orphans. I don't think I need to remind you that your jobs hang in the balance here. But consider yourselves reminded. You may be my best writers but don't think for a second I can't find decent replacements who won't give me nearly as much trouble as the two of you. Now go!"
Zacharias Smith and Ginny Weasley leveled mutual scowls at each other and stormed out of their editor's office.
"I don't know what you're up to, Weasley, but-"
"What I'm up to? Are you kidding? Like I would ask to be put on this? This isn't even a story. It's a bleeding piece of front page candy floss. I got pulled off the Swirler murder case for this."
"I was this close to cracking a huge story, not that I'd give info to you, you little case klepto."
"Hey, I didn't steal the Vaughn story from you! She landed in my lap-came to me! I had no idea you were even on track and obviously wasn't going to sit around wasting valuable time while you cracked the case at the speed of chilled treacle."
"That was my story! And I know you're behind this somehow. You're the one with the in with Potter-you should be doing this alone. Not like we need two reporters for one stupid charity auction. Who the hell attends this sort of farcical function anyway?"
"My ex-fiance, obviously. And there's certainly no lost love between me and Harry. We remain civil only for the sake of my family, but I certainly have no interest in dealing with him. I think you convinced Davies to put me on this joke of a story to punish me for breaking the Vaughn story before you could."
"Like I would put that much energy into bringing you down! You do well enough on your own."
The sound of Davies clearing his throat loudly from the doorway behind them silenced them both. With an irritable sigh, Ginny followed when Zacharias gestured.
"I'll meet you outside the ball room at 1800. That should give us plenty of time to get things figured out before it starts at seven. Don't be late and please tell me you own something presentable."
Ginny's look could have iced over Hawaii.
***
Six hours later, the Ministry Ball Room was in shambles. The famous crystal chandelier lay shattered on the marble floor and one of the tables was still smoking after being doused with a industrial strength, firefighting Aguamenti. Harry Potter had a nasty black eye, over half of the bachelors had disappeared, and Ginny was covered head-to-toe in chocolate cream pie. Zacharias, still picking canary feathers from his jacket, held out a grudging hand to help Ginny up off the floor.
"Well, it might not be quite as fluffy as we'd originally thought," he said dryly.
"Davies is going to kill us!" she groaned. Zacharias agreed with her assessment. "Okay, here is what we are going to do. I am going to go home. I am going to take a very long, hot bath and try to get pudding out of my hair. Tomorrow morning we will meet up and write this story. We will come up with some fantastic spin that makes even this seem like great, fluffy, marshmallow fun. We will under no circumstances kill each other before it is finished. Deal?"
"Temporary truce accepted," Zacharias agreed, offering a rare smile.
Ginny nodded and tried unsuccessfully to wipe away some of the chocolate clinging to her eyebrows. She narrowed her eyes at Zacharias, who was trying valiantly not to laugh at her.
"Tomorrow morning, Smith. Coffee shop across from the office. Whoever brings the disgustingly trite, rancid candy floss type way for us to spin this to Davies' satisfaction, the other one buys the coffee … and probably scones. Or muffins. I'm not picky."
"Eight o'clock, Weasley. If you're late, you forfeit automatically, and, I have to tell you, I can eat a lot of scones."
Tomorrow they would need to salvage this … somehow. Tomorrow they'd have to navigate the dangerous unknown waters of a ceasefire. Tonight, however, all Ginny cared about was a hot bath and a lot of shampoo.
Author: katmarajade
Written for: thimble_kiss
Pairing: Zacharias/Ginny
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 871
Prompt: holiday cease fire
Summary: Roger Davies, Editor in Chief at the Daily Prophet, puts his top two reporters on the fluff story of the season. They are not happy about it.
Notes: I loved this idea and actually hope to come back and flesh this out into a full length fic. For now, however, have this glimpse of these two in all their witty, snarky, bickering glory. The UST between these two makes me grin just thinking about it. Pre-pairing because I totally ran out of time and this got away from me!
"No way!"
"Sir, you can't do this!"
"Enough!" Roger Davies, Editor-in-Chief of the Daily Prophet held up his hand and gave his top two reporters his sternest stare. "You two will cease this ridiculous, childish crap immediately. I know you don't like each other and I know you both have a long list of reasons and I frankly do not give a damn. Right now, you will work together and cover this story. You will grit your teeth, put smiles on your faces, and play nice. We all know this is an utter fluff piece and a complete waste of time. However, this is the kind of PR nonsense we have to do in order to stay afloat. So you two will be at Bachelor Auction, you will get an interview with Potter without hurling insults, and you will bring me back a cheerful, feel-good piece of crap to put on my front page that shows that the Daily Prophet plays nice with the Ministry and supports war orphans. I don't think I need to remind you that your jobs hang in the balance here. But consider yourselves reminded. You may be my best writers but don't think for a second I can't find decent replacements who won't give me nearly as much trouble as the two of you. Now go!"
Zacharias Smith and Ginny Weasley leveled mutual scowls at each other and stormed out of their editor's office.
"I don't know what you're up to, Weasley, but-"
"What I'm up to? Are you kidding? Like I would ask to be put on this? This isn't even a story. It's a bleeding piece of front page candy floss. I got pulled off the Swirler murder case for this."
"I was this close to cracking a huge story, not that I'd give info to you, you little case klepto."
"Hey, I didn't steal the Vaughn story from you! She landed in my lap-came to me! I had no idea you were even on track and obviously wasn't going to sit around wasting valuable time while you cracked the case at the speed of chilled treacle."
"That was my story! And I know you're behind this somehow. You're the one with the in with Potter-you should be doing this alone. Not like we need two reporters for one stupid charity auction. Who the hell attends this sort of farcical function anyway?"
"My ex-fiance, obviously. And there's certainly no lost love between me and Harry. We remain civil only for the sake of my family, but I certainly have no interest in dealing with him. I think you convinced Davies to put me on this joke of a story to punish me for breaking the Vaughn story before you could."
"Like I would put that much energy into bringing you down! You do well enough on your own."
The sound of Davies clearing his throat loudly from the doorway behind them silenced them both. With an irritable sigh, Ginny followed when Zacharias gestured.
"I'll meet you outside the ball room at 1800. That should give us plenty of time to get things figured out before it starts at seven. Don't be late and please tell me you own something presentable."
Ginny's look could have iced over Hawaii.
***
Six hours later, the Ministry Ball Room was in shambles. The famous crystal chandelier lay shattered on the marble floor and one of the tables was still smoking after being doused with a industrial strength, firefighting Aguamenti. Harry Potter had a nasty black eye, over half of the bachelors had disappeared, and Ginny was covered head-to-toe in chocolate cream pie. Zacharias, still picking canary feathers from his jacket, held out a grudging hand to help Ginny up off the floor.
"Well, it might not be quite as fluffy as we'd originally thought," he said dryly.
"Davies is going to kill us!" she groaned. Zacharias agreed with her assessment. "Okay, here is what we are going to do. I am going to go home. I am going to take a very long, hot bath and try to get pudding out of my hair. Tomorrow morning we will meet up and write this story. We will come up with some fantastic spin that makes even this seem like great, fluffy, marshmallow fun. We will under no circumstances kill each other before it is finished. Deal?"
"Temporary truce accepted," Zacharias agreed, offering a rare smile.
Ginny nodded and tried unsuccessfully to wipe away some of the chocolate clinging to her eyebrows. She narrowed her eyes at Zacharias, who was trying valiantly not to laugh at her.
"Tomorrow morning, Smith. Coffee shop across from the office. Whoever brings the disgustingly trite, rancid candy floss type way for us to spin this to Davies' satisfaction, the other one buys the coffee … and probably scones. Or muffins. I'm not picky."
"Eight o'clock, Weasley. If you're late, you forfeit automatically, and, I have to tell you, I can eat a lot of scones."
Tomorrow they would need to salvage this … somehow. Tomorrow they'd have to navigate the dangerous unknown waters of a ceasefire. Tonight, however, all Ginny cared about was a hot bath and a lot of shampoo.