Disclaimer: No money is being made off of this piece of writing. All characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and the publishers and editors and etc. Not me. Only the plot belongs to me (or to be specific, Steph. see authors note at bottom.) Also, we have like no money. So suing is worthless.
Note: OOC. ish. Not so much that you can't enjoy it, but there are a lot of non-hp world things present. I talked Steph into posting it cause we all know its a good story. :)
It was too much for poor Ginny Weasley's heart to bear. As she sits sprawled out on her floor crying, she recalls a recent conversation she had with her... boyfriend...? Former boyfriend? Who knows what she is to him now. He wants a "break," whatever that means. A little voice in the back of her mind told her it meant an open relationship, with her as a sure fuck. She disregards that thought, positive she knows him better than that. He has been distant recently though. Very distant. She noticed small changes in the way he talked to her even though he denied it. He never talks to her. She is always left guessing what is wrong, and surely there is something...
Ginny begins to feel like a failure; like she never played her role as his girlfriend well enough. He tells her he loves her, but is he bored with her? Does he need something more? Someone better? She begins to cry harder. Sure, she's been played by guys before, she's cried over guys before, but never like this. These tears feel like they came straight from the deepest part of her soul.
He has many admirers, she knows this. They always call him, leave him little messages where she can see, and honestly, she can't blame them. He's smart, successful, and not bad to look at either; it would be easy to just up and leave plain old Ginny for someone prettier, older, or with more experience. It wouldn't take much, since there are more than enough women to choose from. But would he? Or does he love her like he says he does? How could he with so many women throwing themselves at him, with him not doing anything to stop them?
Her crying becomes unbearable now. He doesn't include her in his life anymore. Their split was only a few days ago, but it feels like he's months ahead of her in the recovery stage. It didn't seem to faze him at all. Nothing ever fazes him. His emotion is expertly masked behind cold grey eyes and a sarcastic smirk. Words don't seem to be enough for her anymore, how can she be sure he means them? Does he say the things he says out of habit? She wishes she knew what he was thinking... she wishes he would just talk to her...
She ends up falling asleep on the cold wood floor of her dorm, surrounded by numerous tissues, the letter he wrote her, and her cell phone in her lap in hopes she might get a late night call from her beloved.
The door to a ritzy uptown flat opened to reveal a rather disheveled looking blonde haired man. Looking at his watch he snorts in disbelief. 2:00 AM. He had worked all night. All he wanted to do now was go to his room and crash. Dragging his feet the entire way, he flopped onto his bed fully dressed and stared upward at the ceiling.
After Draco had finished school, he had bought out a small corporation as an investment and ended up running it pretty much single-handedly. He changed the business from "small corporation" to one of its rivals' top competitors. While this meant financial success, it also meant long hard hours at the office. His father wasn't of much assistance these days either. Sure, he still had his money, but sometime during the war, he was found in a ditch rambling something about a lunatic in a chicken suit carrying a giant cupcake and was declared mentally unstable, for reasons unknown to Draco. Note the sarcasm. It is completely understandable for the young man to be bitter about his father, as he is the one taking care of him and feeding him carrots through a straw, while trying to juggle his new business since his mother is busy, away taking care of his fathers other affairs.
Closing his eyes and cursing his luck, he hears a slight beep from the nightstand next to his bed. Looking over, he sees his lonely cell phone that he forgot to bring with him this morning. It was flashing red, meaning he has a message. Ginny. His Ginny. Now 2:30 in the morning, way too late to call her back, he listens to his message and his heart skips a beat. Due to his current life situation, he found he had no time for his girlfriend. He always let her down, making false promises to visit and not showing up, or not calling her enough. She told him that she wasn't disappointed, but he knew she was. He knew it because he himself was disappointed. He always looked forward to seeing her, but work always got in the way. Right now he wanted nothing more than to have her lying next to him, but instead, only days ago, he had to let her go, even if it were only for a short while. He couldn't bear to keep hurting her, and to keep disappointing her. He needed to focus on work before play.
But gods, did he love her. Sure there were women now. Plenty of them. One for every day of the year, were he to choose so. He went out with these women, but was unsure why. Maybe to fill a void, maybe because he doesn't want to stop living his life (as mean as that sounds). But compared to her, they were only obscure forms of women. Meaningless. With her, he had history. He had definition. And even though he didn't know what she was thinking half the time, he seemed to know everything all of the time. A sentence that can only make sense if you've ever been in love.
It killed him that day, when he told her he needed time to himself, mostly because he knew she didn't fully understand, and he knew he had hurt her. He doesn't particularly like the lurching feeling in his gut every time he sees her cry, so he had chosen to tell her by letter. He knew it was the wrong thing to do, but quite frankly he didn't want to hear her argue, because he knew she'd win. She always wins. Sometimes he resents her for it. But he loves her nonetheless.
Taking off his clothes and sliding under the covers, he starts to think. Could he really handle it if she were to tell him she went out with another guy? Sure, he flirts with other women shamelessly, but he knows it doesn't mean anything. Suddenly, he feels a pain in his chest, as if jealousy was a knife, and that knife had just stabbed him in the heart. Ginny. His Ginny. With another man... no. Couldn't happen... but what if...
And that was his last thought as he drifted into a sleep he knew would only last him about 4 hours, only to get up the next morning and do it all over again.
Author's note: I didn't write this particular fanfic (I being night-skies). My good friend did, and I beta-d for her. I'm posting it here with her permission so people can read it. :) You can email her at and her aim is sweetxdreams71. I'll also be sure to pass along all comments and she has access to this account now as well if she wants to reply to any comments. That's all.
