Rejection should not seem so foreign to me, I think. But it still does, and I believe it always will.
It is a well-kept secret, the spurts of communication between she and I. In fact, I think the only person who knows is Herm... the Granger girl, who naturally found out quickly after meetings commenced. I was naive to think that they would not; it is my belief that there was an unspoken bond between she and Granger. Perhaps friendship like theirs spawned something so foul. I have not had the opportunity – oh, my apologies, the I shame /I of having such a friendship.
Or have I?
It has been six weeks since she and I ceased contact. It would be a lie to say that each day apart destroys my heart, but I would be a liar to say that our separation does not ache on me occasionally. When I, working at the Auror's office, suddenly come across something interesting: a trail to follow, a case to pursue; it burns when I know that any owl I send will be taken without her knowledge. It is, indeed, cruel, but it is life. And life has been anything but kind to me.
After my stint with... well, those family members of a most disreputable nature, it was a difficult process recovering from my injuries and becoming an Auror. It took but a year of training, for I took the advanced course, which was implemented after the enourmous Auror casualties during the war. In fact, with a name such as mine, it turned out difficult to gain any positive reputation with the other Aurors. I am ostracized by my name; evicted from the world I so desperately long to belong in.
Malfoy. The tone of the name sickens my ears and upsets my stomach, just as I have trained it to. I need to hate the name. I need to despise it; my upbringing, my family, my heritage; my blood, which separates me in stature, but not in position; my very appearance, which she said, "reeks of,,, superiority. And pompousness." Yet considering that she was lying next to me on a couch when she said it, I disregarded the comment. I wish I had not.
My life is almost completely composed of I wish I had nots. Simply a few: I wish I had not received the Dark Mark. I wish I had not obeyed my father. I wish I had not listened to the Dark Lord. I wish I had not lived through the war. I wish I had not fallen in love. I wish we had not been so forcefully rendered from each other. Alas, the past is what it is: the past, no? It is done. As am I.
We met in the Auror's office. Unlike I had expected, her husband had not pursued a career as she and I did, instead choosing to stay behind at Hogwarts and teach. It would have been my second guess, anyway. Yes, Potter, a teacher, it is shocking, isn't it?
We met on my first day on the job. In fact, it was my first, and her... well, I do suppose I should call her by her name, then? Ginny. The name is as intoxicating as a skunk's emissions, or so I thought on my first day on the job. I did just barely remember her from my short six years at school, but what I remember was mostly fogged my her relationship with Potter – which, if I may add, was visibly repulsive and should have been ended. Yet instead of that, they get engaged, which I consider to be a great tragedy. Not because it restricted her: judging by our later encounters, she was I anything /I but tamed, but because it seemed to put a damper on her spirits. One could almost see the sadness in her face while she organized plans and meetings. She was not restricted by 2, but by the tedium and routine that came with it.
Going back to our first meeting, it was anything but satisfactory. We were partnered early on, as our experience was almost identical, barring the fact that she was one side and I was the other. I remember our first mission quite clearly; in fact, the detail is so exact that I could recount it right here. Shall I?
I strode into the Auror's office as if I owned the world, which, considering the amount of money in my bank account could not have been far from the truth. Each Auror had their own office, even though the offices were miniscule; I had closets back at the manor that were larger. I understand that the offices didn't I need /I to be very big office – we sat at a desk and waited for words to appear on our parchment – but space never killed anyone. Actually, I suppose Space could because of the vacuum, but extra room would have been appreciated.
There is a main lobby in the Auror's department that has, roughly, thirty-three rooms separated from the lobby by doors. My office was the sixth from the center on the left side, and I made no hesitation going there. I closed the door and changed into my uniform. It is a little known fact that Aurors do not simply wear robes, but a special armor underneath. It only covers the legs, arms, and chest of the user, but it is a type of goblin armor. I don't exactly know the specifics, but I believe that it absorbs spells, or at least weakens their effects. It also looks very official, and, if crafted in the black and dark green color set like mine, very frightening.
I picked up the report paper, which detailed the recent top-secret news and details about needs. The system worked as such: an Auror reads about all the recent news, as at 11:15 in the morning, a piece a parchment, irremovable from the desk due to a charm, will display the requirements of the Auror. One paper might say, "Apprehend petty criminal in Dane," and that task would take a day. Another might say, "Investigate recent murders and apprehend murderer," which would, obviously, take more time.
My assignment was this: "Meet with partner. Meet Auror Kingsley for assignment." I quite easily remember the pain that ensued after I smashed my head down on the desk. I scowled: I the first day on my new job, and they assign someone to baby-sit me? And they don't even think that they can just tell me what do to over a paper? /I
I left my office at exactly 11:25 to go meet Harriet, the Auror secretary who would then assign me to my new partner. Now, considering the direction, this tale is going, I feel that I should go ahead and inform you that yes, my partner I is /I Ginny. I doubt that there was any question about that, but if there was, it was my intent to dispel it.
I approached Harriet, sauntering my way to the desk. Next to the Harriet stood Ginny; she leaned casually against the side of the desk, glancing around. I can still remember the way that her red-striped robes fit her body, falling casually over her figure. While your placement in Hogwarts has very little influence on the rest of your life, it can still be flaunted as a symbol of pride. For example, my green-striped robes boasted my being a Slytherin; hers demonstrated some misplaced honor in being a Gryffindor.
The instant she spotted me coming closer, I saw her lean into Harriet, speaking in a harsh whisper.
"Harriet, if he's my partner, than I swear to God, I'm quitting." I approached, eyebrows raised.
"Yes, Harriet," I said, a slightly sneering tone on my tongue, "please don't pair me with her. Some of her Gryffindor might rub off on me." She cast a nasty glare at me, eyes radiating hate. "Oh, come now, Weasley, glaring matches are for children. Duel me if you care, but I think we would all agree that your face looks much better when you are not scowling." She did not stop glaring, but instead turned the same glare on Harriet.
"See? I'd like to know just who approved our partnership – they'll be getting a fine surprise tonight." She murmured the last part, but I still heard it.
"Ah, but she-Weasley, I thought you were engaged?" I queried mockingly. I'll say now that it was not my intention to hurt her personally, but it was so easy. One could almost say that she set herself up for it.
Harriet looked at both of us and shrugged. "Look, you two," she said, smoothing back her graying hair, "it's not my choice. Kingsley Shacklebolt approved it, and he's the head Auror. If you have a problem, take it up with him." She glanced over at me and for a short second looked much like my mother: hair in a ponytail behind her head, nose upturned, scowling. Of course, this piece of Freudian information is almost completely useless, so I shall leave it be.
Ginny scowled again and sighed forcefully. "Fine then, I'll take it up with Shacklebolt." She quickly strode out of the office, and I decided to follow her. When she noticed she snidely asked why.
"Besides the fact that I want to talk to him as much as you do? Nothing much." Frowning, she navigated the corridors to Shacklebolt's office and I followed her, weaving in and out of groups of Aurors. When we finally arrived, she was the first in, opening the door and striding in without hesitation. I followed carefully, standing back in a corner of the room. Shacklebolt was obviously stunned, but regained his composure. I sized him up, and firmly decided that I did not want to piss him off. He was six-four, dark-skinned, shaven (not bald), and appeared to be about two hundred and twenty pounds. It was actually quite funny to watch Weasley, who could not have weighed more than one hundred thirty pounds, march up to Kingsley and begin to vent – even more humorous was watching Kingsley recoil and try to satiate her.
"Look, Mrs. Weasley – "
"Ms. Weasley," I interjected. He glanced up at me, and I forced myself not to recoil.
"Yes, I Ms. /I Weasley, you don't understand..."
"No, you don't understand!" Her head reached to his chest, and she had to look almost straight up to make eye contact – which, amazingly, she never broke. "Draco Malfoy has done nothing but antagonize me, my family, my friends, my fiancée, even my house..."
I grinned. "Please, you're too kind."
" I See! /I " She was moving her hands as she spoke, and I followed them with my eyes. Up, down, up, down, left, down... "This is what I would have to put up with! He hates me and everything I've ever done."
"Considering that you've only done Potter, I second that statement." Her eyes almost fell out of her head, but I'm sure that if they did she would use their tendons to strangle me. Kingsley grabbed her arm to keep her away from me.
"You don't understand: you two are the best match we at the Auror station have ever come across." Ginny went limp in his arms, and I went rigid.
"What do you mean? If that was am joke, it was quite insulting..." I scowled, and she glared back at me.
"When you got into the Auror program you took a personality test. This actually I is /I to pair you with a partner when one arrives that is similar enough to you. We like partners to be as similar as possible, because, chances are, they'd think alike, therefore furthering their progress on a case."
"We are I not /I alike, and that's that," she said, crossing her arms across her chest. Kingsley shrugged.
"Fine. Complain about it either on your next assignment – together – or complain about the severance pay being too small, it is your choice." He straightened and walked to the door. "Be back here at two o'clock for your assignment." He exited the office, and Ginny glanced at me.
"I hate you." I nodded.
"I know."