A/N: Warning: if you are feeling extremely bouncy or happy, please do not
read this. If sad stories bother you, don't read this. If you are rabid
D/Hr or G/H, don't read this and then flame me idiotically. That is all!
Enjoy.
***
Beneath a clear, cold sky littered with stars, Ginny shivered convulsively. The sharp wind cut through her thick cloak as though it was not there at all, and it whipped her red hair wildly across her face. Most students would think that standing outside at midnight in the dead of winter was not intelligent - or possible, at Hogwarts - but Ginny was past caring. She rubbed her arms furiously, trying to get rid of her goosebumps, and even wondered herself what she was doing here when the wind got ice cold, but for the most part she just kept her eyes focused on the gates of Hogwarts.
And there it was, the thing she'd been waiting for all thirty minutes she'd stood outside. A dark shadow opened the door, peeked left and right, then shut it swiftly and tramped out into the icy snow. Ginny stepped out a little from the shadows where she'd hidden to make sure she wasn't seen. The shadow paused, seemed to hesitate for a moment, then trudged towards her.
Upon reaching Ginny, Draco Malfoy pulled down the hood of his cloak and gazed at her wordlessly. There was no expression on his stony face; no knowing smirk, no angry scowl, no rare grin that sometimes found its way upon his chiseled features, only very flat eyes. Ginny looked at him. She said nothing, simply watched, and waited.
Draco was nothing short of gorgeous, and from the way he carried himself, with a jaunty sort of arrogance, he knew it quite well. His silver-grey eyes were somewhat deep-set beneath his light brows, and their intensity could bore through anyone - though whether they found it as exhilarating as Ginny did was another matter entirely. Draco's face was sharp, angular, almost a reflection of his own difficult character. Chiseled features and high cheekbones further created the look of arrogance he could have managed no matter what he looked like. His pale skin emphasized lips that were nearly always half-curved, as though laughing at his own private little joke. Tonight, his silky blonde hair caught the moonlight and the starlight and reflected the two in little shimmering waves when his head moved.
He had developed broad shoulders, a pointed contrast from his lithe frame in earlier years, and had grown to be near a head taller than Ginny herself. The way Draco carried himself had much to do with his own, unique brand of sex appeal. The quiet confidence he exuded, the attitude in his stride and his eyes that spoke of superiority, and the sinuous way he moved, like a snake, made him all the more desirable to the female population at Hogwarts. Something about his lethal look drew women to him like flies to honey, women longing to get within that elusive mind, women who had cried heavy tears over their broken hearts. Ruthless. That's what they called him, those idiot girls who thought they could tame the spirit of a dragon, who thought they were more than just a toy he would throw out when he finished. They would whisper about him in the halls, tittering madly as soon as he would walk by with that mesmerizing walk of is. Cold- hearted, they would say, brutal. Heartless and cruel.
Downright evil.
But none of it reached Draco. He knew, of course - only one blind and deaf to the world around him would not, and Draco was hardly either of these - but the bitterness lodged within each girl made it difficult for anyone to take them seriously, let alone the object of their wasted affections himself. Every tear they cried, every word they shouted at him - every slap he got and every stinging insult - only served to boost his pride and his confidence to new heights. Perhaps he really was ruthless, and cold, and evil. But somewhere within those obvious traits, someone had seen more of Draco than he had ever intended.
And now she stood before him, shivering, her face pale but her lips blood red, parted to reveal a misting breath. Even here in the cold, with her senses numbed and likely her mind too, Ginny's eyes still flashed. Because he was late, probably. The girl's temper still fascinated him, intoxicated him. She was the fire to his ice, the pure, virginal white to his corrupted ebony soul. Within those deep brown eyes that a man could easily get lost in was the heart of the one girl - the one woman - who would never cry bitter tears of regret over Draco Malfoy. And he would leave her anyway. Perhaps not of choice - though it was something she'd long debated with him - but leave her nonetheless, and that seared him deeper than any of those slaps or insults ever would.
"You shouldn't be here," he said finally, after a long pause.
"I don't care," Ginny retorted. "It's not like anyone saw me."
Draco ran a hand through his hair irritably and grunted at her. It was true, she could be stealthy when she needed to, and she had that filth Potter's cloak.but still.
"You know what I mean," he said with a touch of anger. "It's not safe for you here."
For a moment she looked at him pensively, her eyes hooded but blazing beneath her long lashes. The paleness of her face made her already prominent freckles stand out even more. Ginny said she hated them, but Draco disagreed - they only added to her false air of innocence. Finally, she gave the tiniest of sighs and placed her hands lightly on his.
"Do you really think it's safe for you, either?" she murmured quietly. Her eyelashes fluttered as she sucked in a deep breath of air, but her hands were still. "Draco, I don't want you to go."
"We talked about this already, Ginny. There's no time for regrets!" Draco said harshly. That was a measure of how flustered he was - ordinarily, he could never be harsh with her. But these were not ordinary circumstances.
Ginny suddenly gripped his hands tightly, her nails digging into his flesh until he thought she might draw blood. She stood on her toes, pulling his face only centimeters from hers. So close that, in the moonlight, Draco could see her eyes shone with unshed tears. Her brows were furrowed with some emotion - anger, or sadness. Or hate.
"Draco - " she whispered fiercely, her hot breath reviving the numbed skin of his face. One trapped tear fell free. "I don't - want you - to go."
Draco stared at her, letting his silver eyes flicker over her brown ones. Her words tore at his heart and his soul, made him wish it were that easy. Made him wish he could forget who he was - what he was, or what he would become - long enough to be lost within her. It was impossible, he knew. A sense of duty, for better or for worse, had been ingrained in him so deeply it would be all but impossible for him to succumb to those desires, however much they tugged at him. And still Ginny stared at him with big eyes. They were filled with something other that anger, now - something closer to fear. He felt the need to wipe that fear away and so, for lack of better options, Draco bent his head a little and kissed her.
Their kisses were never trivial matters; each one fueled such emotion, such pure passion and desire that only comes to a despairing soul with nothing to lose, that it was a wonder neither of them crumbled to ashes - and this kiss was no different. If anything, it encompassed even more passion than before. Ginny felt - she knew - it would be her last, and she returned it with a wild force, all while more tears began to fall. Everything passed between them then, every possible emotion from their sadness to their jubilance, from their grievances to their joys, their hate - their torment or ecstasy, from the smallest moment of their lives to the most momentous - and all of it infused with the ice of a thousand storms and the heat from molten lava. Ginny thought she could feel her lips bruise from the force of it, but it only made her more vigorous, and Draco was no different. The frost he surrounded himself with would melt for Ginny, and only for her, and that was something he would miss sorely. His kisses were instilled with emotion, emotion that no other girl would ever taste.
When they parted at last, Ginny took a moment to catch her breath. Crying had pulled more oxygen from her than kissing had, and the two had taken her toll. When she could breathe rightly again, she moved her hands a little further up, to Draco's forearms. Her small fingers traced a skull on one through the fabric of his shirt. Draco shivered, not from the cold, but from something deeper within him, something he did not want to face. He grabbed at her hand and held it, looking dangerously at her; there were some boundaries even she should not cross. Ginny only smiled disarmingly at him, though her tear-stained cheeks gave away the bluff.
"It will be a shame," she whispered quietly, sadly, "to ruin such pretty skin."
Draco jerked away quickly. This had gone on long enough. He hitched his cloak up on his shoulders and pulled his gloves a little tighter, watching her warily. Ginny did not move, only smiled that small half-smile of hers. It looked disturbing when coupled with her tears, and made Draco shiver again. He took a step away from her.
"I'm leaving now," he announced in a flat voice.
Ginny's hand twitched towards him, then fell back down to her side. She gave a tiny, resigned nod, which surprised Draco. He had expected her to put up more of a fight, wanted her to keep him back. But what was done was done. He stole a glance around and noticed a shadow just a little too human- like to be a tree. Then another, and another. It was past time to be gone. He took another step back from Ginny and fixed her with a look that he hoped would tell her all he'd never been able to say. She seemed to understand well enough, at least.
"Please go now," Draco said. "It's getting more dangerous. Please.please go."
Ginny nodded silently and pulled her cloak around her. Draco nodded as well, satisfied, and began trudging through the snow once more, with his back to her and Hogwarts. He had gone about twenty paces when a sound broke the unearthly stillness.
"Draco!" Ginny shouted.
Unable to help himself, he turned and looked at her. She was gorgeous, standing in the snow just then, her black cloak flapping about wildly and her red hair seeming to shine even in the night. She had stepped out from her hiding space and now stood in plain sight for anyone. Her mouth opened as though to say something, then closed. She seemed to have forgotten what she was about to say, though there was no apparent reason why. There was fear in her eyes, cold and petrifying. It was then that Draco noticed the unnatural shadow around her. Standing in plain sight, she should not have been so dark.Draco's face drained of all blood. He knew what was happening. And he was powerless to stop it. Duty before pleasure.
Sure enough, a hand snaked its way around Ginny and covered her mouth to prevent her screaming. Please, Draco thought wildly. Please, not this. He knew it could not be helped, by him or by anyone else, but how he wished it could. Oh, how he wished it could. Another hand was raised now, and within it the dark, lethal gleam of metal showed. Draco held his breath as it sliced easily through Ginny's cloak, making it fall around her, then cut up the clothes beneath, leaving her white shoulder bared. Ginny had only a second to widen her eyes in horror before the blade plunged into her pale skin. She convulsed quickly, then fell heavily into the death eater's arm. The telltale, black cloud of poison spread quickly over her skin, marring its beauty.
Draco turned away before he could recognize the man, before he fell, himself, from the pain he felt for her. He began walking once more, trying not to think of Ginny's dead body, lying crumpled on the ground, staining the snow with the bright vermilion of her blood. Swiftly, as his thoughts scattered into the night, frost began to overtake him again. The barriers Ginny had worked so hard to tear down were reformed. He was harder, colder. And now the sour taste of bitterness engulfed him. Yes, Draco could be ruthless, just as those girls had said. He was indeed heartless, brutal, cruel. Downright evil. Someone with nothing more to live for could not be expected not to be.
And there was no time for regrets.
***
A/N: Damn..that was pretty dark. I hope you liked it anyway, though.I think I'll go write something happy now :) Please review, constructive criticism is always welcome.
***
Beneath a clear, cold sky littered with stars, Ginny shivered convulsively. The sharp wind cut through her thick cloak as though it was not there at all, and it whipped her red hair wildly across her face. Most students would think that standing outside at midnight in the dead of winter was not intelligent - or possible, at Hogwarts - but Ginny was past caring. She rubbed her arms furiously, trying to get rid of her goosebumps, and even wondered herself what she was doing here when the wind got ice cold, but for the most part she just kept her eyes focused on the gates of Hogwarts.
And there it was, the thing she'd been waiting for all thirty minutes she'd stood outside. A dark shadow opened the door, peeked left and right, then shut it swiftly and tramped out into the icy snow. Ginny stepped out a little from the shadows where she'd hidden to make sure she wasn't seen. The shadow paused, seemed to hesitate for a moment, then trudged towards her.
Upon reaching Ginny, Draco Malfoy pulled down the hood of his cloak and gazed at her wordlessly. There was no expression on his stony face; no knowing smirk, no angry scowl, no rare grin that sometimes found its way upon his chiseled features, only very flat eyes. Ginny looked at him. She said nothing, simply watched, and waited.
Draco was nothing short of gorgeous, and from the way he carried himself, with a jaunty sort of arrogance, he knew it quite well. His silver-grey eyes were somewhat deep-set beneath his light brows, and their intensity could bore through anyone - though whether they found it as exhilarating as Ginny did was another matter entirely. Draco's face was sharp, angular, almost a reflection of his own difficult character. Chiseled features and high cheekbones further created the look of arrogance he could have managed no matter what he looked like. His pale skin emphasized lips that were nearly always half-curved, as though laughing at his own private little joke. Tonight, his silky blonde hair caught the moonlight and the starlight and reflected the two in little shimmering waves when his head moved.
He had developed broad shoulders, a pointed contrast from his lithe frame in earlier years, and had grown to be near a head taller than Ginny herself. The way Draco carried himself had much to do with his own, unique brand of sex appeal. The quiet confidence he exuded, the attitude in his stride and his eyes that spoke of superiority, and the sinuous way he moved, like a snake, made him all the more desirable to the female population at Hogwarts. Something about his lethal look drew women to him like flies to honey, women longing to get within that elusive mind, women who had cried heavy tears over their broken hearts. Ruthless. That's what they called him, those idiot girls who thought they could tame the spirit of a dragon, who thought they were more than just a toy he would throw out when he finished. They would whisper about him in the halls, tittering madly as soon as he would walk by with that mesmerizing walk of is. Cold- hearted, they would say, brutal. Heartless and cruel.
Downright evil.
But none of it reached Draco. He knew, of course - only one blind and deaf to the world around him would not, and Draco was hardly either of these - but the bitterness lodged within each girl made it difficult for anyone to take them seriously, let alone the object of their wasted affections himself. Every tear they cried, every word they shouted at him - every slap he got and every stinging insult - only served to boost his pride and his confidence to new heights. Perhaps he really was ruthless, and cold, and evil. But somewhere within those obvious traits, someone had seen more of Draco than he had ever intended.
And now she stood before him, shivering, her face pale but her lips blood red, parted to reveal a misting breath. Even here in the cold, with her senses numbed and likely her mind too, Ginny's eyes still flashed. Because he was late, probably. The girl's temper still fascinated him, intoxicated him. She was the fire to his ice, the pure, virginal white to his corrupted ebony soul. Within those deep brown eyes that a man could easily get lost in was the heart of the one girl - the one woman - who would never cry bitter tears of regret over Draco Malfoy. And he would leave her anyway. Perhaps not of choice - though it was something she'd long debated with him - but leave her nonetheless, and that seared him deeper than any of those slaps or insults ever would.
"You shouldn't be here," he said finally, after a long pause.
"I don't care," Ginny retorted. "It's not like anyone saw me."
Draco ran a hand through his hair irritably and grunted at her. It was true, she could be stealthy when she needed to, and she had that filth Potter's cloak.but still.
"You know what I mean," he said with a touch of anger. "It's not safe for you here."
For a moment she looked at him pensively, her eyes hooded but blazing beneath her long lashes. The paleness of her face made her already prominent freckles stand out even more. Ginny said she hated them, but Draco disagreed - they only added to her false air of innocence. Finally, she gave the tiniest of sighs and placed her hands lightly on his.
"Do you really think it's safe for you, either?" she murmured quietly. Her eyelashes fluttered as she sucked in a deep breath of air, but her hands were still. "Draco, I don't want you to go."
"We talked about this already, Ginny. There's no time for regrets!" Draco said harshly. That was a measure of how flustered he was - ordinarily, he could never be harsh with her. But these were not ordinary circumstances.
Ginny suddenly gripped his hands tightly, her nails digging into his flesh until he thought she might draw blood. She stood on her toes, pulling his face only centimeters from hers. So close that, in the moonlight, Draco could see her eyes shone with unshed tears. Her brows were furrowed with some emotion - anger, or sadness. Or hate.
"Draco - " she whispered fiercely, her hot breath reviving the numbed skin of his face. One trapped tear fell free. "I don't - want you - to go."
Draco stared at her, letting his silver eyes flicker over her brown ones. Her words tore at his heart and his soul, made him wish it were that easy. Made him wish he could forget who he was - what he was, or what he would become - long enough to be lost within her. It was impossible, he knew. A sense of duty, for better or for worse, had been ingrained in him so deeply it would be all but impossible for him to succumb to those desires, however much they tugged at him. And still Ginny stared at him with big eyes. They were filled with something other that anger, now - something closer to fear. He felt the need to wipe that fear away and so, for lack of better options, Draco bent his head a little and kissed her.
Their kisses were never trivial matters; each one fueled such emotion, such pure passion and desire that only comes to a despairing soul with nothing to lose, that it was a wonder neither of them crumbled to ashes - and this kiss was no different. If anything, it encompassed even more passion than before. Ginny felt - she knew - it would be her last, and she returned it with a wild force, all while more tears began to fall. Everything passed between them then, every possible emotion from their sadness to their jubilance, from their grievances to their joys, their hate - their torment or ecstasy, from the smallest moment of their lives to the most momentous - and all of it infused with the ice of a thousand storms and the heat from molten lava. Ginny thought she could feel her lips bruise from the force of it, but it only made her more vigorous, and Draco was no different. The frost he surrounded himself with would melt for Ginny, and only for her, and that was something he would miss sorely. His kisses were instilled with emotion, emotion that no other girl would ever taste.
When they parted at last, Ginny took a moment to catch her breath. Crying had pulled more oxygen from her than kissing had, and the two had taken her toll. When she could breathe rightly again, she moved her hands a little further up, to Draco's forearms. Her small fingers traced a skull on one through the fabric of his shirt. Draco shivered, not from the cold, but from something deeper within him, something he did not want to face. He grabbed at her hand and held it, looking dangerously at her; there were some boundaries even she should not cross. Ginny only smiled disarmingly at him, though her tear-stained cheeks gave away the bluff.
"It will be a shame," she whispered quietly, sadly, "to ruin such pretty skin."
Draco jerked away quickly. This had gone on long enough. He hitched his cloak up on his shoulders and pulled his gloves a little tighter, watching her warily. Ginny did not move, only smiled that small half-smile of hers. It looked disturbing when coupled with her tears, and made Draco shiver again. He took a step away from her.
"I'm leaving now," he announced in a flat voice.
Ginny's hand twitched towards him, then fell back down to her side. She gave a tiny, resigned nod, which surprised Draco. He had expected her to put up more of a fight, wanted her to keep him back. But what was done was done. He stole a glance around and noticed a shadow just a little too human- like to be a tree. Then another, and another. It was past time to be gone. He took another step back from Ginny and fixed her with a look that he hoped would tell her all he'd never been able to say. She seemed to understand well enough, at least.
"Please go now," Draco said. "It's getting more dangerous. Please.please go."
Ginny nodded silently and pulled her cloak around her. Draco nodded as well, satisfied, and began trudging through the snow once more, with his back to her and Hogwarts. He had gone about twenty paces when a sound broke the unearthly stillness.
"Draco!" Ginny shouted.
Unable to help himself, he turned and looked at her. She was gorgeous, standing in the snow just then, her black cloak flapping about wildly and her red hair seeming to shine even in the night. She had stepped out from her hiding space and now stood in plain sight for anyone. Her mouth opened as though to say something, then closed. She seemed to have forgotten what she was about to say, though there was no apparent reason why. There was fear in her eyes, cold and petrifying. It was then that Draco noticed the unnatural shadow around her. Standing in plain sight, she should not have been so dark.Draco's face drained of all blood. He knew what was happening. And he was powerless to stop it. Duty before pleasure.
Sure enough, a hand snaked its way around Ginny and covered her mouth to prevent her screaming. Please, Draco thought wildly. Please, not this. He knew it could not be helped, by him or by anyone else, but how he wished it could. Oh, how he wished it could. Another hand was raised now, and within it the dark, lethal gleam of metal showed. Draco held his breath as it sliced easily through Ginny's cloak, making it fall around her, then cut up the clothes beneath, leaving her white shoulder bared. Ginny had only a second to widen her eyes in horror before the blade plunged into her pale skin. She convulsed quickly, then fell heavily into the death eater's arm. The telltale, black cloud of poison spread quickly over her skin, marring its beauty.
Draco turned away before he could recognize the man, before he fell, himself, from the pain he felt for her. He began walking once more, trying not to think of Ginny's dead body, lying crumpled on the ground, staining the snow with the bright vermilion of her blood. Swiftly, as his thoughts scattered into the night, frost began to overtake him again. The barriers Ginny had worked so hard to tear down were reformed. He was harder, colder. And now the sour taste of bitterness engulfed him. Yes, Draco could be ruthless, just as those girls had said. He was indeed heartless, brutal, cruel. Downright evil. Someone with nothing more to live for could not be expected not to be.
And there was no time for regrets.
***
A/N: Damn..that was pretty dark. I hope you liked it anyway, though.I think I'll go write something happy now :) Please review, constructive criticism is always welcome.