Disclaimer: I own nothing but the idea for this story.

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Chapter 1

There was another story Rose Dawson-Calvert knew, but it was not her story, so it was not hers to tell to Mr. Bodine. It was another love story, one she was very fond of. This story will go forever untold, but the few people who knew about it would always hold it in their hearts. Most of those people, however, were not alive anymore, and so Rose is the last person in the world, and she held it dear to her as if it were her own memory.

This story reminded Rose of her own love story. It was of a young girl from steerage, named Ginevra Weasley, and a first class gentleman named Draco Malfoy. Their names, however, have been long forgotten, and have not been spoken in many years. Mr. Bodine, however, knew of the prestige the Malfoys had on their name, and, while he knew not much of them, he was curious, and asked Rose if she knew them. She said she had.

"But not well, I'm afraid." She, of course, was lying. "Lucius Malfoy was one of the most revered men in the business world, and many women were throwing themselves at his only son's feet, but Draco would have none of it. The family had a fortune. They, of course, were in first class, but they were lost on the Titanic. Narcissa Malfoy loved her husband so, and refused to leave him on the ship, so she stayed and died with him. Their bodies were never found. While I was backing away from the lifeboat where my mother and Molly Brown were, I saw her jump from another, screaming and crying, trying to reach her beloved husband. When she fell into his arms, I had already said goodbye to my mother and started running. I knew they had both perished, for they did not make it to the Carpathia. Their fortune was to go to their son, but he did not receive it. It went to the closest cousin."

"And what of their son?"

"I do not know. Perhaps he died. Perhaps he lived. No one knows. He might have done what I did and taken a different last name once we were placed on the Carpathia."

"But wouldn't the son of such a prestigious man be recognized?"

"Was I?"

"Well, um…"

Rose smiled. When she went back to her room later that day, she sat at her desk and looked out of the window, thinking about the beautiful story of Draco and Ginevra.

-

"Harry! I can carry my own bags, thank you! Ugh, come ON, you lot! We'll never make it at the pace we are going."

"Oh hush, Gin," said one of her many brothers. It was one of the twins, Fred and George.

"You sound like mum," said the other. It was George.

"Ginny, will you please let me take your bags for you??"

"For the last time, Harry, no! I can handle them myself. We don't have time for you to act chivalrous."

Harry Potter was a family friend who was traveling with the Weasley family, and was expected to propose to Ginny at some point.

"Hurry up!" their mother yelled. "We still have to get through inspection! Give the bags to the man, that's a good girl, Ginny. Boys, you too. Then off you go to the inspection line! Hurry, now!"

-

"Father, it doesn't look like anything to make such a fuss about."

"What are you talking about, Draco?" his mother asked. "It is gigantic! And beautiful! How can you say such a thing?"

"I don't see what the deal is." He snootily stuck up his nose into the air, and walked onto the ship. His parents shared a look, then sighed.

"This ship is magnificent. You should be able to see that, being so fond of expensive things," his father said as they boarded.

"Yeah," said Draco's friend, Blaise. "Don't act like such a prat." Draco hit Blaise's shoulder, then continued to walk.

"Here are your rooms, Mrs. DeWitt Bukater. B52, 54, and 56," Draco heard as he was walking down the hallway. He wasn't looking, he was thinking, and so he did not see three people standing by a doorway to his right.

Draco looked to see two redheaded women, both looking very uppity and high class, and a younger man. The younger woman – Draco assumed she was the daughter of the older woman, and the man, her brother – glanced at him, and then walked into the room just before closing the door. Draco shook his head and continued on. His family's rooms were A58, A60, and A62.

"Here you are, sir," said the bellman. He had opened the door of B64 for Lucius, then nodded at Draco and his mother as they walked through the doorway. "Mr. Zabini," he said to the darker man who was Blaise's father, "your rooms are B58, B60, and B62."

The man nodded and proceeded into the first door with his wife and son.

"Oh, it is lovely!" Draco's mother said. She gasped when she saw a door that lead to a promenade deck.

"That is your private promenade deck, madam," the bellman said.

Lucius smiled at his wife. She was so enamored by the beauty of the ship, and the simplicity of being in a room for the next week.

"Oh Lucius! Let us go up on deck! I must see the rest of the ship!"

Draco discreetly rolled his eyes, but he gave a little smile; he loved seeing his mother so happy.

"Shall I put your bags away for you?" asked the bellman. Draco saw that his tag read Marcus.

"Um, sure," he said hesitantly; his mother and father had already gone out the door. "Thanks."

Marcus smiled; he was rarely thanked.

"You're welcome, sir!"

Draco left and hurried to catch up with his parents. Everyone had been boarded and the ship was being taken away from the docks. There were hundreds of people by the railings, waving to family and friends on the docks below them. Draco turned away in disgust and proceeded back up to the first class deck. He looked out at the vast ocean – and then he saw a glimpse of red hair. He narrowed his eyes at her, but when she turned around and smiled, his heart stopped. It wasn't the girl he saw in first class earlier; it was a different girl.

"Oh, forget about her, Draco," said Blaise when he walked up to him. "She's a third class girl. It'll never work. Draco?" Blaise waved his hand in front of his friend's face, and sighed. "Draco, don't," he warned, and walked away.

He noticed the other redhead, who was in the rooms next to his family's…Rose? He thought he heard someone say her name, and then he saw the man who was with her and her mother. It was quite clear that he was not her brother. Blaise narrowed his eyes at the man; he had grabbed Rose's elbow and pulled her away from the railing. They had obviously had a row. Blaise knew that was not a way to treat a woman, and he vowed to keep an eye on this man. No, he did not have feelings for this girl, but he hated it when he saw a woman being mistreated.

As for Daphne Greengrass, well…trying to avoid her at all costs was certainly not mistreating her. If anything, poor Draco was the one being mistreated.

"DRACO! There you are!" she screeched. Draco was thrown out of his trance and looked over his shoulder at the bane of his existence. Thank goodness her family's rooms weren't too close to his own. Now Narcissa hated the match, but Lucius and Daphne's father were old friends, and the match was set, a ring was bought, and Draco was dreading the day when they docked in New York. That very next day, they would be married. He truthfully considered running away, but now, he wasn't so certain. He looked back, at the deck below his, and saw the girl look up at him. He gave a half smile, but was ripped away from her again by his blonde fiancée. She had grabbed his arm to go in to tea.

"Let's go! We must meet Mr. Ismay and Mr. Andrews. They are sitting at a table, and wish to meet you! Oh, and that Rose girl is so rude! She should be in third class, if you ask me."

"I didn't ask you anything, Daphne," Draco nastily replied.

-

Ginny saw the look of pure disgust on the blonde man's face when a girl who was obviously travelling with his family touched his arm, and chuckled. She shook her head at the poor man's fate, then bit her lip. She had not wanted to marry Harry. She was not interested in him, but he had more money than all of her relatives combined – and she had a lot of relatives. He could give her a good home and a wonderful life, so her mother always told her. But she wouldn't have a wonderful life. What life is wonderful if you are with someone you do not love?

She sighed and looked back at the railing where he had been standing, but he was gone. She sighed again and then realized that she had been doing that quite a lot, lately. She was stupid; that man may have been gorgeous, but she was nothing. What did she have? She lived a poor life, has never known love, was one of seven children and the only girl, and she was already seventeen.

Her oldest brothers were not with her on the Titanic. Bill, Charlie, and Percy were all married and lived in London. Fred, George, and Ron were the only ones with her besides her parents, and they were crammed into two small rooms. Ginny with her brothers, and her parents in their own.

What was she thinking? That first class man would never want someone like her. She should just accept her fate and stay with Harry. He was a sweet man, and had quickly become Ron's best friend. He was nice – too nice, and she wanted adventure. She didn't want a secure life, she wanted to live her own life.

-

Later that afternoon, she took a walk by herself out on deck and saw someone drawing. He was blonde, but the man she saw earlier was wearing a suit and was in first class. This man was clearly in third. She drew closer to him and, while getting herself ensnared by his drawing, she did not notice him look up.

"Can I help you?"

At first, he thought she was the girl he saw earlier that day up on the first class deck because of her hair color, but her hair was free of restraint, was wavy rather than full of curls, and they were on the third class deck, not first class.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was just admiring your drawings."

"Oh, thank you." He held out his right hand, but pulled it back when he saw that it was full of charcoal, then held out his left hand. "Jack Dawson."

"Ginny Weasley," she replied, and shook his offered hand.

"Do you get any money for your drawings?" she asked.

"A little, but it's enough. You're not the only person to ask me that today. I do like getting money for them, but I draw because I love to capture people. Their beauty, grace…I guess in their happiest moments."

"Do you see people? Even though you don't know them?"

"I like to think so. Would…you allow me to draw you?"

Ginny looked shocked.

"Me? What is so special about me?"

It was his turn to look shocked.

"You can't see anything in you? Nothing at all?"

"I'm just a plain, bitter, poor girl. What else could there be?"

"My first impression of you is that you are a sweet, beautiful girl who is troubled by something, but you seem to be hiding it."

"You should be a psychic, but you got the beautiful part wrong," she said, as if she had just eaten a lemon.

"I don't think I have. May I? Draw you, that is."

"If you really want to, sure. How much?"

"Nothing at all."

"But that wouldn't be fair."

"It is, because you are letting me draw you."

She smiled, and sat as he asked her to on the bench where he had been sitting, drawing a mother and child. He flipped the page to a new one, sharpened his charcoal stick, and began. For once, he wished he had color. He wanted so much to capture the color of her hair, but he worked with what he had. She was sitting with her legs crossed facing him, her right hand on her right thigh, and her left hand resting on the bench next to her hip. She had her head turned slightly towards him and was gently smiling. He took about an hour, but he eventually finished the drawing and let her see it.

"It's beautiful," she breathed. "Who is this? It is certainly not me."

"How did you feel while I was drawing you?"

"Happy, I guess. Because I wasn't thinking about my life…"

"Exactly. This is how people see you when you are truly yourself."

She smiled.

"Thank you, Jack. Would you like to have dinner with my family, tonight?"

"I wouldn't want to intrude –"

"Nonsense."

"Alright. Thank you. I'm going to walk around the ship a bit more, maybe look for some more people to draw."

"Alright. We are in rooms E49 and E50. My room is E50. Knock on my door at six tonight."

"Will do. I'll see you later, Ginny."

As Ginny waved and walked away, he walked around to the other side of the deck, saw something he wanted to draw, and sat down.

-

Draco had finally gotten away from everyone and slipped into his room. He had some casual clothes that didn't make him look like he was from first class, and he put them on. He grabbed a hat, and, when he was sure that no one was in the halls, he slipped out of the room and locked it. He somehow made it to the second class promenade deck without being seen. He walked around, nodding at a few passers-by, and he felt as if he did not have to impress anyone, as if he could do whatever he pleased without being judged by everyone around him. He hated being part of high society. His parents were not snobby, but most high class people were. He had to go to formal dinners, parties, and impress everyone with his money. That was not his idea of fun.

He wandered the ship a bit more until he went to the main deck, where all classes were allowed but most first class passengers wouldn't be caught dead there. He saw someone who looked quite a bit like himself, and made his way towards him. He noticed this young man was bent over a piece of paper, drawing a couple holding hands. Said couple was standing at the railing near the man, oblivious to everything around them but themselves.

"You are very talented. Do you do anything with those? Or do you just get pleasure out of them?" Draco asked. Jack looked up and smiled.

"You're the third person to ask me if I get anything from them, but the first to realize that I do them for fun. Name's Jack Dawson."

"Draco."

"What, no last name?"

"I just prefer my first," said the englishman. "May I take a look?" he asked Jack, indicating his drawing book. "When you are finished, of course." Jack glanced at Draco curiously, wondering about the other man's diction, but shrugged.

"You can look at it now. I have all I need to finish the drawing without them," he said, meaning the couple. Draco sat down on the bench and took Jack's book.

"Oh…these…women…let you draw them?" Draco asked when he flipped to a few pages that had naked women on them.

"Yeah. They were quite willing…they were fascinated by my drawings. Not that I'm bragging." Draco waved a hand at him, indicating that he didn't care, nor thought, if Jack was bragging or not.

"These are exquisite, Mr. Dawson."

"Jack. And thank you."

Just then, Draco turned the page from the woman and her child to the one of Ginny, and noticed that it had been done earlier that day.

"That girl!" Draco exclaimed.

"You know her?"

"I…do not know."

"How do you not know if you know someone or not?" Jack asked, now quite confused.

"She is on this ship?" Jack nodded. "I think I have seen her. Does she have red hair?"

"Yes. Her name is Ginevra, but she called herself Ginny at first. She's in third class, too. But…something tells me you aren't."

Draco stood, realizing that he picked the wrong person to talk to. Obviously, this man was very observant.

"I must get going."

"Why can't you just tell me the truth? I won't tell anyone."

"Why does it matter what class I am from? Would it change your view of me?"

"No, not at all. I'm just curious, and I noticed that your diction is not that of a third class man. Forgive me if I've offended you."

"It is fine; you have not offended me. Thank you for showing me your drawings. You have a great talent."

"Thank you."

"Perhaps I shall see you, sometime."

"Maybe…"

Draco left, and, just like before, he was able to get back to his room without being recognized by anyone and changed.

"He's totally from first class…" Jack muttered.

-

I hope you enjoyed it! Please review!