Disclaimer: None of the characters or locations mentioned in the following fanfiction is my property.
AN:
So it seems that Virginia's name is, in fact, Ginevra. Fine. I
changed the fic so that it made sense. I also had to change the
title. Go figure. I'm not sure if I'll bother with my
others.
Ginevra
A twenty four year old
Draco Malfoy had perched himself on his chair at the dining table as
if it were his own personal throne. He rarely spoke to anybody at
Blaise's parties, and never enjoyed himself, but it was on honor to
be invited to such an event, so he attended them every month. He'd
watch the people socialize, each of them desperately hoping to be
noticed by one person or another.
Most of them were artists.
They'd have their hair slicked into elegant styles, sometimes dyed
colours that were less than natural. They were so bright and cheerful
that it almost invoked from him the urge to have some fun. To go
write a novel in which nobody died - almost.
The parties
weren't that lively.
But there was a young female in the room
who had caught his eye hours earlier. She'd been at last month's
party as well, but she seemed to feel a bit out of place where she
was. He'd known her from somewhere - probably from Hogwarts.
Her
naturally hi-lighted red hair tumbled over her shoulders like silk
streamers. The pretty ones that muggle gymnasts used, her eyes so
deep that he felt like he could drown in them. And her robes - they
were what had caught his eye - pale green, and draping perfectly off
of her body. She was that fashionable new robe designer that Blaise
had been raving about. A modern Juliet, just waiting for her
Romeo.
'She's nothing special.' he'd tried to tell himself,
but he could never finish the thought before she moved her head
enough to send sparkles flying from her crimson locks.
She was
beautiful. She was intelligent and popular. Why was she sitting all
alone in the corner of the dining hall, when everybody was off in
another room, dancing? He sauntered toward her shadowed hiding place,
and sat in the chair across from her, bowing his head politely.
"Hello, Gina."
Her eyes widened in surprise, and he
smiled, "Did nobody tell you? I'm psychic."
His
modern Juliet snorted with all the glamour and poise of a slowly
dying elephant, and let her head fall into her hands and giggled
hysterically for what seemed like hours to Draco, lightly freckled
shoulders heaving. Finally, she brought her head up out of her hands
and looked at him. Gleeful tears had smudged her black eyeliner and
mascara at the corners of her chocolate brown eyes. "My name's
Ginevra."
Suddenly he realized why he'd remembered her so
well. She was the Weasley girl. "I know your last
name."
"Really?" she asked sarcastically, "Tell
me my last name."
"It's Weasley."
She
raised her eyebrow quizzically, "Have we been introduced?"
"Not
formally. Would you like to dance?"
"Who are
you?"
"Why does that matter?"
The red
head called Ginny Weasley smiled, and asked, "Why do you keep
asking me questions?"
He shrugged, "You tell
me."
Her lips twisted into a lopsided grin, so like her
brother's, "Draco Malfoy."
"Do you still want
to dance with me?" He questioned, a rueful smirk tugging at his
lips, marring an otherwise perfect face.
"Of course I
do."
He stood, and walked over to her chair, gallantly
offering his slender hand to her. He may have seemed cold and
heartless, but deep down; he was romantic, just like his novels. "I
knew you would."
She took his hand, and shook her head,
allowing her cocky Romeo to lead her onto a crowded dance floor.