AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey. Back. So, here's a one-shot for the angst-riddled among us. No, just for me. Um…yeah, I don't know where I got the idea, but I kind of like it. It's sad, it's dull, and it makes no sense whatsoever. Ring a bell? Sounds like every other story I've ever written…no, it sound like my life…no, it sounds like me. ding ding ding We have a winner! It's pathetic, but make my life and read it anyways.

DISCLAIMER: Not mine unless it is. You know what isn't.

Coloured Grey

The sky had never looked so grey.

Staring up at the vast, blank sky, Draco Malfoy wondered where the clouds began and where the sky ended. It was all swirled and mashed into one…it felt like him, on the inside…that cold, dark place one person had ever braved.

He swept his eyes, as cold and empty and grey as the very sky above him, over the shoreline of the ocean. Everything was melding into different shades of grey…the sand, which had once held golden light when he had run across it with her now seemed dull and dead, more like ash than sand.

The rocks, which had always been dark and shiny, were now bleak and dreary…their jagged edges piercing the horizon as it cut away from him. The very rock he was sitting on was flat, colourless, and uninteresting. These were the rocks they had hid amongst…talked amongst…made love amongst…once old, familiar, friendly figures, they were lifeless and inconsequential without her.

Even the sparkling blue ocean had shrivelled and withered into weak ripples of stony mercury. The waves no longer crashed forcefully…instead they licked unwillingly at the ashy sand, barely touching the rocks even as they attempted to climb to the peak of their tide.

There was no sun…there hadn't been for a long time now. Not since she had left…

She wouldn't even cry. It was pathetic, really. He was crying…he, the cold, heartless, Death Eater son of the cruellest, most unemotional man ever breathed life. And yet she could not…would not…shed a single tear.

"Draco, please." She whispered achingly, leaning forward on the rocks, reaching a hand out to wipe the tears away. He turned his head, staring out at the horizon. The sun was setting, the usual pinks and oranges and golds and violets merging instead into a constant inky grey.

"Draco, you've got to listen to me." She pleaded, eyes still dry as paper. Draco scowled, hastily shoving a hand at his own moist cheeks. "Draco, this can't go on. He knows, Draco. He knows. He won't let us happen…you're the only heir he's got…he'll kill me…he'll kill you." She had leaned forward, pressing her forehead to his.

"I can't lose you, Draco. I couldn't deal with that. Wait. Just wait until you turn twenty-one. You'll inherit your mothers fortune then and we you can get away from him. We can live in our own house…get married…just wait a few more months…please."

Despite her pleading, all he saw was that she still wasn't crying. That was all he could think of as tears slipped down his cheeks. She didn't care as he did. Didn't she know he couldn't live without her? That it hurt too much to see her living with that prat Potter?

He pulled away from her, his pride fighting to mend itself back together as he dried his eyes and sneered down at her. "I won't make any compromisations for you, Weasley. If you want to end this, just say it. That's the only way it will ever happen."

He had glared at her, the wind whipping up as he stood tall over her shivering form. She glanced down and he couldn't see her face. "This has to stop, Draco." She said firmly. He wasn't listening as she said 'at least for now'. He wasn't listening when she told him his father had sent her a bouquet of poisonous flowers. He wasn't listening when she told him she loved him.

He didn't turn to watch her as she left, only throwing 'I expect your things gone from my apartment by this evening. And keep your dirty, muggle-loving hands off my things. I'll know if anything's missing' over his shoulder coldly at her.

That last he looked, she was gone, and that had been the last time he'd seen her.

Staring as smoky clouds drifted over the Oceanside, he lifted himself from the ashen rock and began to stroll across the death sand. He watched as every footstep sunk into the fine, limp sand.

He looked up, catching a glimpse of red out of the corner of his eye.

Turning, he was struck by the sight, at the same time noticing how surreal it seemed. She looked dreadfully out of place, sitting on the rock where they'd first kissed and made love, right underneath the hillside clearing where he'd later proposed to her. Her red hair seemed brighter and richer than the last time he'd seen her…perhaps it was just how everything around her seemed lifeless, but she stood out vividly.

She turned her pale, freckled face up to his. Her cheeks were lightly tinged a flushed pink and her eyes were as large and brown as he remembered them…save for one thing…there was pain in them. She was wearing a thin robe of deep, dark green that stood out against her skin, her hair, and the scene in general.

She stared up at him, no sign of recognition in her face as he walked up to her, feeling as if he should run away with every additional step he took. He shoved his hands into his pockets as a sea breeze strummed up, humming and singing a wailing tune around them.

Her eyes closed and an atmosphere of serenity filled the area. He stared at her, taking in every inch of the only person to ever really get him. To get to him. She looked…good. Content. Of course she would be…she didn't have to worry about him anymore, did she? No more Draco Malfoy to mess up her life. No, Harry Potter would make the perfect husband. Not like him.

He almost felt bad about breaking the aura of contentment surrounding and linking them, but he couldn't sit there, so torn up inside, watching her sit there as if she hadn't a care in the world. Didn't she know how much pain he was in? What he had suffered without her?

"Did you ever even care?" he blurted suddenly, still staring out over the darkening waters of the ocean. "About me, I mean. Did you ever stop to think that perhaps I might just have fallen in love with you? Do you know what a huge step that is for a Malfoy to take? And with a Gryffindor, a Weasley no less? Do you know how much I've suffered for you? Do you know how much I've missed you, longed for your touch, craved to just speak to you again? You moved away and never answered any of my letters. I can't eat…I haven't slept in days…I can't live like this! Does that make you satisfied?" he was shouting now, trying to break through the impassive face that had not even ticked during his impressive tirade.

He was startled, therefore, to see a pearly silver tear fall from one eye.

Her pale lips opened. "You. You. You. Yes, you've pained. But so have I. I just came back to say good-bye. I've missed you more than you know…but it's too late now. I wanted to say good-bye." She whispered, her voice musical and airy, floating along with the wind in a manner he didn't recall her utilizing. She stood and walked over to him, her feet gliding over the fine sand next to his own footprints.

He sneered. "Oh yes, that's bloody terrific. You came back to say good-bye. Well, go on. It was always what you were best at, I mean you did it all the time." He hissed. "I can't come here and see the beach as it used to be. I can't look at the sky and see the same one I saw with you. I can't live without you, so thanks ever so much." He spat, pain welling in him as he watched more tears fall from her eyes.

Something strange was happening to her. Her skin, though pale before, had also shone with a light radiance. It was almost dimming now…as if something had extinguished in her. Her hair was fading in colour and intensity as well." She smiled sadly at him.

"It's almost funny…neither could I." she said, with such hurt in her voice Draco wanted to clap his hands over his ears. She glanced away, at the horizon, where the black clouds had moved in. Draco felt a raindrop on his cheek as the wind blew cold against it.

Draco stared down as cheeks fell. It was then that he noticed something else strange. He could see his own footprints in the fine sand…each toe imprinted perfectly, every inch of the heel pressed deep into the sand. Yet in the sand next to his prints, where she had walked, it was smooth and pale…not a trance of an indentation. Dull red caught his eye and he glanced behind her, at the rock she'd been sitting on. Stained into the jagged surface was a mark. It was splattered all over the surface of the rock, spanning out from a central point. It was a deep, burgundy-crimson colour.

The colour of dried blood.

He glanced up at her, horrified.

She smiled weakly at him. "I know." She said softly as he began to sob, reaching a hand out to her. It passed through her cheek and she closed her eyes, more tears falling. "This is it, Draco. I miss you and I love you and I really don't want to say goodbye…"

Thunder sounded as lightning crashed over the now-tumultuous ocean. Neither of them saw anything but each other. She was crying freely now. "I'm scared, Draco." She whispered, sobbing. "I don't want to leave you." He could see colour failing her. "I love you." She whispered in anguish and he let out a wrenching sob that tore the storm clouds open and poured their tears to match his.

She spoke once more, before closing her eyes and fading completely away.

"It's time."

…

In case you didn't get the blatantly obvious clues (just kidding), she jumped. From the place where she accepted his proposal to the place where they made love. Would the real life J. K. Rowling Ginny have jumped? No. Would my Ginny have jumped? Probably not. Is it more fun and tormenting for the readers this way? Yes. Haha. What Draco saw was kind of like a sending…she had unfinished business or was too scared or wasn't quite ready to make the journey yet. Whatever you like. I just thought it was a cool idea. Then again, I thought sliced bread was the coolest thing since…well…sliced bread.

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Shut up, Kelsey, you're making an idiot of yourself

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