Saving All My Love
By Crammer
He's not the guy most girls would love to have for a boyfriend. Sure, he's good-looking, has a brilliant brain, and a body to swoon over. Plus, he's a marvelous kisser. A lot of girls, and possibly some guys, would want to have him for their own. I know. I did.
But Draco Malfoy is not anybody's idea of a romantic boyfriend. He seldom shows signs of affections. That is, unless you are someplace secluded… all alone… with him. Then, no one could accuse him of not being amorous enough. I should know. I've been going out with him since the middle of my fifth year.
But now, a year and three months into the relationship, I have, quite frankly, become tired of the barely-there signals that he cares for me. The lack of romance in our bond is making me long for something more.
A spark.
Passion.
Glamour.
I, Ginny Weasley, am quite a sucker for cheesy romances and lovey-dovey lines. Which is why I am glaringly aware of the void in our relationship. I think growing up in a huge family made me so used to being cuddled and fawned over. Maybe that's why I miss it so much.
And so, yesterday, I cornered Draco right after he got out of his last class, and told him that I wanted to break up. I told him that I didn't want to be in a relationship with him anymore. He looked at me with an inscrutable expression on his face. Even his eyes, which I could normally read easily, showed no indication that he understood me.
"Why?"
That was all he said. A one-word answer. With Draco, that could mean that he's pissed, or that he simply doesn't care. I was quite tempted to scream out 'Cause you don't show that you even love me! You don't baby me or give signs that you still care about me, or our relationship! Because you could be so insensitive!'
"Sometimes, things just happen without a reason," I just answered him vaguely. Even I didn't know why I said that, but at the moment, I don't think I cared.
"Tell me what to do to change your mind."
I sighed exasperatedly. This was what I was thinking about earlier. I have to tell him what I want sometimes. He doesn't have the imagination, the sensitivity, to think of romantic gestures to show a girl that she's special.
"Okay, here's a question. Your answer may or may not change my mind, if my heart feels that it's good enough. For example, I wanted a… a… a pet dragon! Yes, let's say I want a pet dragon, one that you'd have to catch from the wild, but we both are absolutely sure that doing so would cause your death. Will you get that dragon for me?"
I stood there, waiting expectantly for him to blurt out something like, "Yes, of course I'll get that dragon for you! That's how much I love you." But I guess asking something like that from Draco Malfoy, Hogwarts Bad Boy Extraordinaire, was like asking You-Know-Who for some candy.
"I'll give you my answer tomorrow."
My hopes plummeted to the ground, slipped beneath the cracks in the rocks and mingled with the molten core in the center of the earth. I took one last look at his impassive face and took off running toward my dormitory, where I cried myself to sleep.
The next morning, I awoke to something scratching at my window. I hurried over so the other girls in the dormitory won't wake up. Zeus, Draco's magnificent owl, was hovering right outside our tower, with a piece of parchment tied to his leg. I took it, and Zeus fluttered off, not even waiting for a reply.
Crawling back to my bed for more privacy, I braced myself for whatever I may read in the note. But first, I prayed to every god or goddess that I have ever heard of, praying that this little piece of paper was carrying good news.
Gin,
I won't get you that dragon.
But at least consider my reasons for refusing your request.
Many times, you stay up late into the night, hunched over a desk, doing your Potions homework and you get quite cranky because you end up with a sore shoulder. I have to save my fingers so I could give you a soothing massage.
Whenever Snape, or anyone else, insults you, you get so affected by it and you end up crying like a baby. I have to save my shoulders so you can soak my shirt with your tears when you cry on them.
Every month when your bloody visitor comes decides to grace you with its presence, you turn into such a grouch because your stomach and your back get horrible cramps. I have to save my palms so I could rub the pain away.
Sometimes, when your homework requires researching in the library, you could not find the books that you are looking for. I have to save my eyes to help you find the right books so you could complete your homework.
When you feel insecure or scared about things like failing grades or being ignored, you would need a shell to encase you. I have to save my arms so I could make you feel safe in my embrace.
There are also times when you get so irritated, be it because of the strict hag McGonagall or your git brother Ron, and you just feel like exploding. I have to save my ears so I could listen to your rants, thus, saving you from the need to literally blow up.
A few times a year, Dumbledore springs some surprise ball on us. I have to save my feet so you would have someone's toes to trod on, and because my feet are the lucky fellows, some poor fop was saved from all the trouble and possible injury.
There are also the times when you feel like you need to break away from all the pressures of being a teenage witch. I have to save my legs so I could run with you, wherever you may go.
You could be quite moody, too. I have to save my precious face just for you, because one look at it would either make you melt or make you flare up in anger, depending on the situation. But in doing so, I take your mind off your current mood, making the world a better place to live in for everyone concerned.
And most of all, I have to save my lips. You know why, Gin? Because it is the most important tool of expressing what I feel for you. The words may not come out of it that often, but the passion that flows out of it says it louder than most words could, won't you agree?
So, Gin, unless I am absolutely sure that there is someone else out there could do all these, and until I am absolutely sure that there is someone else out there who loves you more than I do, I could not catch that dragon for you. I could not die just yet, without someone else who would shower you with all the love you deserve.
And so, if you have changed your mind about breaking up, please step out of the Fat Lady's portrait, because I am standing right here, waiting with your favorite food, with a lot of love to share.
And so, here I am, racing giddily down the stairs and into the Gryffindor Common Room, ignoring the curious, sleepy stares of all my fellow Gryffs. No one could possibly hinder me from the one person who loves me more than anyone else in the world. And only a magic portrait stands between us. But not for long!
So what if I don't get the proverbial cheesy romance in my lovelife? I have the guy of my dreams and I shouldn't have been complaining.
After all, I know he loves me. And sometimes, these things could be left unsaid and yet could still make the air crackle around us with love, passion and tenderness.
With all this, not even Godric Gryffindor has enough power or magic to complain.
The End
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