Disclaimer: None of this is legally mine. We both know this; it's not that big of a deal. Although, I did create Ginny's "quote," Gustav Tyranilchiv, Life in a Moment, Sunny Waddle the Duck, and the "quote" Draco gives. That's all me, kid.

Author's Note: I have a thing for cynicism and martinis. They always go well together. Written on much traditional jazz. Suggest reading it on such as well. Hope you enjoy, and review if you are so inclined. (Who am I kidding? I love reviews. Please review.)

The music was soft and mellow, floating to them through the thick haze of surrounding smoke. Ginny fingered the glass of her martini idly as she watched Draco took out a small, silver cigarette case, preparing to contribute to it. He pulled out a cigg, and putting the tip in his mouth, swiftly moved to put the case away. In a pause that was an afterthought, held it up to her in question.

"I don't suppose you smoke?" he asked skeptically. She nodded.

"Yes, actually." She selected her cigarette and expertly placed it between her lips, leaning forward as he lit it with his wand and then did the same to his own. She inhaled deeply and he returned the case and wand to his breast pocket.

"So," he said in a languid tone that reflected both their moods. "Good girls don't smoke. When did you pick up such a nasty habit?" He gestured with the hand holding his cigarette before taking in a drag and leaning back.

"Ages ago, really. Yes, my lungs are getting blacker by the minute and I know there are charms and such to prevent it, but these things apparently kill you faster, and why would I want to prevent that?" Draco gave her a smirk, but she didn't return it.

"Morbid thoughts for the little Weasley. But tell me you haven't tried anything as vulgar as killing yourself."

"No." She shook her head. "Nothing so vulgar. Life has just been hideously boring, is all."

He exhaled a stream of smoke into the air, watching it with interest. "I did always have more faith in you than that. So, fill me in on all the goings on of Virginia Weasley I've missed. I've been dying without the gossip."

"I've had many revelations and realizations," she said in a flat tone, "and I've hated all of them."

"Well," Draco said thoughtfully. "I was thinking more along the lines of who you've been dating or where you're working, but if we're cutting to the chase, fine by me. What sort of revelations and realizations? Is your amazing knack for alliteration on the list?"

"It's right between 'I'm going to be a sad, old maid' and 'When you take out all the day to day pointless things in life, there's absolutely nothing left.'"

There was a pause while Ginny downed the rest of her drink.

"I'm still no where near as drunk as I ought to be," she said, setting the glass down in the table a little unsteadily, "but I'm well on my way." Draco reached over and stole the toothpick that still held her olive before it somersaulted over the rim of the glass.

"Now, now, don't you try and change the subject. You can get good and drunk while you tell me everything." He plucked the olive off the toothpick and rolled it back onto his tongue. "I mean, life can't be too bad, you've certainly gone up in the world."

"You've gone down," she said pointedly.

"True, but not in any of the ways that I really care about. Like money, I haven't gone down in money."

"And?"

He smiled. "That's it, just money. But back to you, darling. Let's start with the best subject of them all. Potter." A bit of old malice crept into his voice. "How has the wonderful Potter been and why aren't you together?" Ginny gave him a wary look.

"For fuck's sake, darling," she stressed the word in threat, "if one more person mentions him to me, I swear I will claw their eyes out." Draco observed her for a moment and then smirked.

"God, I love you sometimes." She let out a dry laugh. Everything about her was dry; maybe that's why she loved her martinis so much.

"You might be the only person to ever say that."

His eyes flashed, and in a quick move spurred by a sudden exuberance, Draco snubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray and reached across the table to grasp her hand.

"Hey, marry me," he said, his eyes shining and playful. He looked so young for a moment; she forgot anything but his sudden amusement, as always, with underlying cruelness. Here he was, looking all of twelve, and she felt like a hundred and one.

"Do you remember when you being a year older than me seemed to make all the difference in the world?" she said curiously, ignoring what he had just said. "Remember how a year was everything when we were little?" He shrugged.

"You're talking like we were young together. It wasn't me, it was Potter and his crew you cared about." She started to reply when he rushed again. "But come on, we're still young. Twenty-five and twenty-four, we're still kids! And here I am, with a fortune and a mansion and arrogance that would melt the Gates of Heaven, proposing to you. Marry me. It'll be tons of fun- and if it isn't, then, oh well, it was a nice try, right?"

Ginny stared at him, her dreamy nostalgia quickly dissipating. "You're not very funny," she said sourly, snubbing her cigarette in the ashtray. "I'm not going to be your little joke, and you should know that by now." He threw his head back and let out an exasperated noise.

"You're not the joke! I want you to be my… joker or… joke-y, or whatever the hell- I don't know. Just be with me and we can make fun of the entire world together, for the rest of our lives. Think of the talk- the uproar! It'll be a grand old time. And I can give you things no one else can. Did I mention the fortune and the mansion? Don't you dare pretend you wouldn't kill to be mistress of the Manor."

Ginny almost smirked. "Good girls aren't supposed to care about money and the like. We're supposed to marry for love." He scoffed.

"Oh, you're just being contrary now. We already established you aren't a good girl anymore, and I was never a good boy, so what's it matter? Life is boring now, isn't it? Let's keep each other entertained. Let's make things exciting! Let's-"

"'Let life burn in a fury of hope and fear,'" Ginny interrupted. "'Let the exciting excite you, the enticing entice you, and the embracing embrace you.'"

"Again with the amazing alliteration skills," Draco quipped. "Brava."

"Gustav Tyranilchiv. It's a quote from Life in a Moment. The type of thing some people live by."

"My favorite literary quote was always, 'Everything in life is harder when you have a lollipop in your mouth.'" She gave him a look. "It was from one of the Sunny Waddle the Duck books. Read it when I was six. Changed my life, that."

Ginny nodded solemnly. "Truly one of the finest examples of modern wizarding literature."

"Truly." Draco took the pause to gaze at her, while putting out his own cigg in the ashtray. "Gin," he said intensely, picking up her hand and cradling it in both of his. "Marry me. Really, I mean it. I understand you, and you understand me. We're perfect for each other- I'm convinced we're the only two people on the planet as disillusioned and cynical as we are. So, marry me. Say yes, and let me keep you forever."

She looked in his eyes, seeing everything he was. Selfish, cruel, malicious. Witty, sharp, gorgeous. But most importantly, he was right. They did understand each other- they had become the same type of person. And if they did this properly, oh it would be interesting.

"Yes," she said, hardly believing her own voice. Then, louder, "Yes, all right. Let's get married. In a big, gaudy, frothy ceremony." The corners of her lips turned up into her first smile since she could remember as Draco brought her hand to his lips and kissed the place where the ring would go. Their eyes met and he winked.

"The biggest, the gaudiest, and the frothiest," he said, pulling a few galleons from his purse and tossing them on the table. They were both silent as they stood and he helped her with her cloak. At the door, he paused before opening it for them, and turned to look at her again, grinning like they had just set up the most marvelous prank in recorded history.

"We're going to have loads of fun."