Disclaimer: For about the 1,000th time – Harry Potter is not mine. He's all J.K. Rowling's and other related companies'. Only the drabble is mine.

Author's Note: This was written for one of my best OL friends, Liv, who always cheers me up, and is just nice and energetic. I heart her. (hugs) So this is my "thank you" to her. This was also written a year ago, so now you know why it's so weird. And badly written.

I hope you all enjoy this – even if it's OOC, sappy, weird and whatnot. And about Draco having blonde eyelashes – I thought it would be, ahem, an interesting detail to add. (grins)

"He" is Draco, "she" is Ginny.

- -

He looks at her from beneath his fine, blond lashes. Almost sultry, she can't help thinking. Or predatory. She can't decide between the two.

But then she realizes that it doesn't matter. Not at all.

His grey eyes fix their gaze on her finally. She shivers, as if he's scrutinizing her with a very critical eye, admiring what he sees.

"You were saying?" His voice breaks the empty air between them. It sounds almost like a cat's purr, luxurious and powerful. Two words she would've linked to the name Draco Malfoy, even before she had gotten to know him.

She fights to keep her composure. One thing she should definitely not do to lose her head, or worse, become a fangirl babbling nonsense. Her eyes zero in on his. "I was saying that . . why do you want us to keep our relationship a secret?"

He smiles loftily. "I thought you would know, Ginny," he smirks, "it's pretty obvious."

"Well apparently it wasn't to me," she snaps. "So explain. Now."

"Temper, temper," he chuckles. He sits up and gazes at her with something she can't describe – only feel. It's hot and burning on her skin, and she wishes they weren't sitting by the fireplace, as now she is turning a rosy red thanks to him and the heat of the fire.

"All right," his eyes are focused and serious now, "first of all there's the utter wrongness of us, Gin. We're like Romeo and Juliet – no, bad example. We have a forbidden love. Society and our families don't want us to be together. And then there's Voldemort."

He stops. Then continues. "And then there's my father. Can you imagine how he would react when he finds out that his son, his own flesh and blood son, is treading around with a Weasley? His enemy's daughter! It's not that I'm afraid of Father, Gin." He stops again.

"I just can't be disowned from the Malfoy name, you know that." He says finally.

A tense silence for a minute that lasts forever.

"I know," She says, putting her hand on top of his. "But that shouldn't stop us now, should it?"

"We should take a chance," she continues, never breaking eye contact with him, "and if we didn't, we would regret it for the rest of our lives. And we would be left wondering only what if this and that could have happened, or what we could have found out if we had taken a chance. We would be wasting away, only wondering . ."

She squeezes his hand gently. "After all," she whispers, "didn't Romeo and Juliet take a chance, too?"

- - -

Nighttime now. The corridors are still and seem like dark abysses, fired from within with torches hanging from the walls.

It's almost like the Middle Ages, she can't help thinking bemusedly, making her way along one shadowy hallway with the help of her right hand moving across the smooth stone.

She hears faint footsteps ahead and tenses. Looking about her wildly, she spots then a wall – scurrying over to it, she hides behind its stony cover and hopes fervently that no one saw her. Her blood is pounding in her ears and she can't breathe.

"Ginny?" At first she doesn't catch the soft voice. He repeats it again, a bit more urgent this time. "Ginny?"

Exhaling a sigh of relief, she steps out from behind the wall and runs over to him. Upon glimpsing her, his face brightens and he catches her in a short hug.

After they pull away, he leans over and whispers in her ear, "You were right. Taking a chance was worth it."

And they both smile.