She had been thinking it over for a long time; but there was no way around it, she was going to have to break up with him.
The way his lips seemed to fit hers perfectly somehow made her regret her decision. His sweaty hands found a place on her hips and pressed against her white blouse causing tingles to go racing through her body. She was cornered against the wall by choice, not because he was strong. She was certain that he actually was, but she was also very certain that she was just as strong and wouldn't have let him push her into the wall like some prostitute. That sort of behavior would result in a well-placed kick to his groins. But right now, she didn't mind.
She was conscious of the fact that her hair was sticking to her neck like glue. It only made her imagine flies whizzing around her head and landing on her damp skin. As if he had managed to read her thoughts, his mouth landed upon her neck and shivers instantly traveled down her spine. She didn't imagine he'd really like kissing something so perspiring, and she didn't really want to taste her sweat on his thin lips. Her hands found themselves entwined around his moist neck. Somehow the sweat didn't seem as disgusting on him. Her fingers slid under his collar and fumbled with his tie. She had never been good with those things, despite having six brothers. She was pretty positive Ron didn't even know how to tie his tie right, so that might have something to do with it.
He took his warm hands off of her hips and instead pushed them against the cold stone wall. Ginny wondered if it was because she was sweating profusely or if he just wanted to change things up. She lifted her neck and looked unblinkingly up at the ceiling. "D-do you," she croaked uncertainly, "think you can get off my neck?" She had meant to sound like she wanted more control of the situation, but to her own ears she sounded frail. Ginny Weasley was not weak. She was not frail. She got what she wanted. And she didn't want his lips to touch her neck any longer. It was a pity she couldn't portray these emotions as well as she would have hoped. Her eyes closed out of their own volition.
She no longer felt that extra body heat squashing her body to the wall. She heard his quick footsteps receding and his ragged breath. What was she doing here in the first place? She had come to this classroom to break up, not to snog. This was going to make breaking up with him even tenser than she had predicted. "I didn't realize you'd be so sweaty," he admitted, a bit of disgust lacing his voice.
"I didn't realize you were attracted to necks," she quipped, exhaling a few breaths. "You're like a vampire," she added, lifting her eyelids before lowering her head. The boy – or man, she thought – was looking at her like she was a particularly good flavor of Bertie Bott's. He licked his lips as if to savor her taste. She winced inwardly and had the urge to look down at her dusty shoes. Harry hadn't looked at her like that, ever.
But he was no Potter.
He had silvery blond hair that cascaded right over his eyebrows and happened to be slicked with perspiration. His sharp nose could have cut her while they were kissing, she thought wryly. His angular chin was propped upwards as if he were looking at her with his nose in the air, which, she figured, he probably was. He wasn't even beautiful or gorgeous or unbearably handsome. He did, however, look much better when he wasn't wearing a smirk like it was the latest accessory.
"I didn't bite that hard," he replied, looking towards the light in the corner of the room. He brushed his bangs away with a swift motion and leaned against a desk. He returned his attention to her. "Now, what was it that you wanted to talk to me about? I don't have a lot of time. And if anyone catches us in here, it's your fault."
Her whole body seemed to slump at his words. Her back slouched as she bent her knee and placed her foot against the wall and slanted her body so the bone of her neck didn't bother her. Ginny tucked wisps of red hair behind her ear. This was the exact reason she planned on breaking up with him. How could someone who could kiss by the book be so rude and unfeeling? He didn't give a damn what happened to her. She could have jumped off a bridge and died and he would only be a bit worried about the fact that he had lost a snogging-buddy.
Conscious that the fact her posture might give her motives away, she straightened her back a little and let her hand slip to her side. She was nothing to him, was she? She never would be. She was just a toy – something he could buy, something he could play with, but something that he could throw away once he got bored. She hated being in this position and she was determined to change it. But her determination waned at her heart.
"You don't love me, do you?" she said softly, not caring if he couldn't hear her words. She knew the answer even before she asked the question. She didn't need the answer. He wasn't going to respond anyway. It was Draco Malfoy. She couldn't expect him to fulfill any expectations or be a better person. He wasn't going to do it. It was the art of Draco that drew her in and pulled her out.
"What?" He was dumbfounded by her question. He didn't expect this sort of interrogation by someone who he had just shared a balmy moment with. She could tell that he wasn't the least bit happy, either. His eyebrows furrowed and his nose looked even sharper than before, if it was possible. She observed the way he put his hands against the desk and squeezed it hard. He bent his head before shaking it firmly. His loosened tie hung around his neck and he absently ripped it off.
She wasn't supposed to do this. She wasn't supposed to confuse things, make things bigger than they were. Couldn't she just be happy with what they had? She should be happy that he even looked her way, probed her willing lips with his, and bordered her waist with his capable hands. It was more than she should have gotten in the first place. It was more than she got with Harry - that was for sure. He could tell by the hungry look in her eyes when she saw him. The way she wetted her lips absentmindedly. But it was just desire – she didn't feel anything for him. The way she looked at Harry – lovingly, carefully – was worth much more than the lusty looks she gave Draco.
"You heard me," she replied tightly, her lips forming a fine pink line. "I didn't expect to get much more of an answer from you," she admitted, although she was disappointed. She had always consoled herself with the thought that he might be less shallow than she had first imagined. There could have always been the chance that he might actually feel something for her. That she wasn't just another girl. That she was actually someone who he could love.
But she was dealing with Draco Malfoy here. He wasn't one to see farther than what lay before him. He was greedy and he got what he wanted. It wasn't just his fault – it was how his parents raised him. He wasn't going to stop her if she left. He wasn't going to run after her and hug her and kiss her hair. Draco wasn't romantic. He wasn't a knight in shining armor, waiting to rescue her.
If she left right now, he would try to forget everything that ever happened between them. He would avert his eyes from her and avoid her when walking down corridors. It would be as if nothing happened, even though everything had happened. And she knew that was how it was going to be.
The silence spoke louder than any of his measly words could. The air was tense around them and she didn't dare move to break the horrific magic. She wanted him to yell that he did love her, but she didn't expect him to. She just wanted him to say something – something to break the silence. Maybe even break her heart. She didn't care – this silence was killing her and she wanted everything and nothing at the same time. She didn't have the strength to move her shaky limbs and she was confident she hadn't been breathing for the past thirty seconds. The fact that he just looked at the ground unmoving seemed to hurt her more than anything.
"I guess I was right," she finally said, her throat dry and her voice cracking. "This wasn't really anything, was it? It was just… something to pass time. I get it, Draco – no, Malfoy." She was staring directly above his head, although she didn't need to because he wasn't looking up. If his eyes pierced hers again she was certain she would run out of the room as quickly as possible and not say a word to anyone. "After this we're not going to be talking, so we might as well start calling each other by last names again." Her heart was not in her words. It was easy for her to tell that she wanted the exact opposite of everything she was saying – why couldn't he just lie and tell her that he wanted her? She wouldn't put him above it.
The few minutes where he hadn't responded seemed to last forever to her. Why wasn't he getting angry or yelling at her? At least then she would assume that things were back to normal. But she was certain that the course of their actions had somehow stopped that process altogether. Things would never be the same after this. And it was all her fault.
As much as she didn't want someone who didn't love her, she wanted him. She liked how he bit her lip when they kissed and how sometimes she actually felt some feeling in her stomach that she had never felt before, a feeling that told her to let it be. Leave the relationship as it is. But she had never been good at listening to her intuition.
She sighed.
There was no point in staying here any longer, anyway. She walked slowly – just to give him a chance to prove her wrong – and crouched down to pick up her book bag. She slung it over her shoulder, and walked to the door. She paused briefly and looked at his figure. He looked completely downcast, but she didn't take much notice to it. "Bye," she whispered, before walking out.
As soon as she stepped out the door she couldn't keep walking. This was not how it was supposed to happen. She wasn't just going to turn around, was she? That would seem to somehow contradict everything that had just happened before. If he wasn't going to make an effort, neither was she. She took one more step, although it seemed to take a lot more energy than whirling around and running into his arms would.
She took another step, and then another.
Walking was beginning to feel easier. She lowered her head and looked at her musty shoes and continued forward. Although a part of her was so happy she was right about him, a larger area was sad that she had even tried. What they had was good enough for him, so why wasn't it good enough for her? Of course, Ginny had way more morals than him, which would explain it.
She stopped. She was conscious of noise behind her – was it footsteps? No. She didn't hear anything. She looked over her shoulder and frowned. She was just imagining things, as usual. And then she wasn't.
Words were being whispered into her ear that meant everything – or perhaps nothing. "Ginny." The sound of her name on his lips seemed to make her heart beat faster and adrenaline pumped through her veins. Her whole body seemed to tremble as he wrapped his arms around her and sighed. "I'm not bloody sure what I feel about you," he confessed. Ginny could tell that he was having quite a bit of trouble saying this, for his arms seemed to be quivering. His words were a bit shaky as he finished, "but I know it's more than I've ever felt for anyone else."
Ginny carefully plucked his arms off of her. She turned around and let her hands find themselves attached to the sides of Draco's face. Her thumb brushed his cheek warily and she wanted with all of her might to just melt into him. "I was wrong… about you," she added wearily. She had never really admitted that she was wrong, especially not to someone like Draco. "I thought you'd go back to Parkinson and forget all about me." He leaned his head closer to hers, but she had enough willpower not to kiss him.
"Forget about you?" he gave a small laugh. "Ginny, I could never forget about you. I don't reckon I could forget about your sweaty neck either," he added, a smile playing about his lips.
"How sweet of you," Ginny replied sarcastically before meeting her lips to his. And this was really how it should be. He may not feel the same way for her, but at least he could act like it. And he may be a huge coward, but at least he had enough guts to not let Ginny slip through his fingers and disappear from his life forever.
As she pulled away from his grasp, she realized that sometimes admitting you're wrong isn't so bad after all.