Right, this is a new fic.
Disclaimer: I don't own any Harry Potter characters or concepts. I just like to daydream about Snape ;)
This is post-war AU. Ginny/Harry, Ginny/Draco, no underage, no slash, just lots of ansty, sappy goodness. Read and review, please!
Ginny's POV
She had always wondered why she did this. Why she chose someone else, someone who could never fill his spot – Someone who could never love her the way he loved her.
She had always wondered why, but there is no more time to think. She has already sealed the deed.
A touch on her shoulder brings her out of her reverie. Harry is standing at her side, looking quite handsome in his dress robes.
"Ginny, love, it's our turn to dance." His green eyes earnestly find hers, and he flashes her a beaming, euphoric smile. "You look so beautiful," he says, "even when you frown." His eyes are warm, loving, and adoring.
Ginny allows him to lead her to the dance floor. As they walk, she hears the whispers. "She looks lovely in her gown," whispers one guest. "Don't they look so gorgeous?" whispers another.
And it's true. She does look gorgeous. And Harry looks fantastic, as they should both look on their wedding day. But she doesn't want to be in Harry's arms, no matter how wonderful he looks.
As they dance, she looks over Harry's shoulder at the guests. Some are dancing, some are eating, others talking or smiling at the newlyweds. Their faces are full of well-wishing, so many happy, smiling, pleased people.
She wonders if they know -- if anyone knows— what she's really thinking. She wonders if her true thoughts are displayed on her face; that she doesn't want Harry, as much as he loves her and as much as she cares for him.
She sees her brother and his wife, Luna, flash her a smile of confidence and love. She sees her old schoolmates, and Fred and George, and the once-hated professor Snape with his arm around Hermione.
And then she sees his face. The one she truly loves and wants, and the one she cannot have.
He is now one of Harry's close friends. After the war, and after proving himself to them, he was accepted as a friend.
Ginny, of course, was in love with him long before that. Their first kiss in her fourth year, and numerous kisses to follow. Of course, they had to keep it covered up, what with he being a Slytherin and she a Gryffindor.
And so she began to date Harry, so as to be accepted as "normal" and to never attract suspicion. She held hands with Harry by day, and professed her love to the other by night.
Is this how I got into this mess? she wonders. How else did she manage to become Harry's fiancé and then his bride?
Her eyes fly back to his face. The room has darkened, others have started dancing, so no one notices where her gaze falls.
Draco sees her, and returns her gaze with a wan, remorseful smile. He too wonders how all this happened, and why he did nothing to stop it. He watched it go by, did he not? Watched his love court another, watched her hold hands with someone she did not love, watched her accept Harry's proposal with the color drained from her pretty face.
He loves her. He truly loves her, but there is nothing he can do about it.
He watches as the newlyweds dance to a slow, romantic instrumental piece, both melancholy yet uplifting at the same time. Ginny looks truly lovely in her ivory-coloured gown; Draco has never seen her look better. A sight for sore eyes, he once called her, and all the better because she had a mind. She had just laughed at that, called him silly threw her arms 'round him and hugged him, all the while laughing and shaking her red hair.
But he had meant every word of it. Ginny had never been afraid to speak her mind to him, to disagree with him, to correct him. And quite surprisingly, Draco found that he loved that attitude, and that it was much preferred to the fervent idolatry many other girls threw at him.
He remembered a night spent in the attic in Godric's Hollow, the two of them huddled under a blanket by a window while the rest of the housemates slept. The heat was turned off at night, so they sat shivering in the attic, not daring to go down to the kitchen or other venue lest their affections be discovered.
"It's cold," Ginny had said for what seemed to be the umpteenth time. Draco had pulled her closer, tucked her under his arm, her head resting on his shoulder.
"Someday," she had whispered, "Someday, I will sit with you in the kitchen, just like this. " She shifted her feet before continuing, "I know it sounds silly, Draco, but I hate hiding this whole thing. Someday we won't have to hide. When this bloody War is over, and I can finally leave Harry."
Draco had murmured words of affection and understanding in an attempt to mollify her. He was Harry's friend now, a member of the Order, but he couldn't help wishing that he and Ginny could whisk away and live happily ever after. Not that happily ever after ever happened, mind you.
Perhaps he had known it all along, though. Perhaps he had been in constant denial, when the truth that Potter would eventually take his love was constantly looming ahead of him. Perhaps he had been blind to the inevitable until it actually happened.
The music has stopped, and someone has stood to make a toast. Lupin. Draco is barely listening to the man's words, and raises his glass as an autonomic response.
Ginny has her eyes on Lupin, but she too is barely listening. She merely smiles at the right moment, claps and laughs when appropriate.
She has resigned herself to being the prized wife of The Hero of the Wizarding World. She will not be able to hold Draco, to kiss Draco, to love Draco any longer, because all eyes will be on her as a model for other women, the trophy wife to be emulated. In accepting Harry's proposal, she has accepted a lifelong contract of being a poster-wife, constantly monitored and constantly on display. In her disgust, Ginny curses her weakness.
When she dances with Draco, she barely speaks to him. He has chosen a fast paced dance for this very reason, knowing that neither of them would have the heart to speak.
They twirl across the floor in silence, smiles frozen to their faces, eyes never meeting except in fleeting glances. And then, as Draco leans to kiss her hand at the end, she speaks.
"I'm sorry," Ginny whispers leaning in to hug him. It is acceptable, because most people think that they have but a very close friendship.
Draco hugs her back. "I know," he says into her hair, "I know. And I'm sorry too." With a bright, strained smile, he lets her go, and she flits to her brother without a backward glance. Draco dances with others- Hermione, Luna, Tonks, and others that he knows- fervently trying to remain cheerful.
It works. The reception is over; the guests are lining up to see the newlyweds off. Harry lovingly gathers Ginny in his arms, embracing her.
"I love you, I love you, my gorgeous Ginny." And he means it. Ginny hugs her new husband back, looking over his shoulder. Making eye contact with Draco, her voice is clear as water. "I love you too," she says, her brown eyes connecting with his grey ones in a minute of understanding.
"I love you too," she repeats, and only she and Draco know that she is not speaking to Harry.
Read and review, please, but no flames!
Thanks.