Title: Moonlight

Author: Tiny Q

E-Mail: one legged lesbian seagull hotmail com (Please add 3 underscores, one "at" sign, and a period)

A/N: Well, I started writing this back in April, finished it in August, then edited it now in November. Wow, am I ever efficient. Scary part? I have thirteen other stories sitting around just like this one. Oh well. So I finally got around to editing it, and I am not too impressed with it, but whatever. Maybe you can find some enjoyment in it?

Disclaimer: I own nothing, though I do think the moon would be a fun thing to own. Then I could control the Earth with the moon's power over it. Hee Hee.

Moonlight

--o--

Ginny Weasley stood at the counter, the sounds of night's silence ringing all about her. At one time she had feared this position, standing alone in the dark kitchen lit only by the moon and the dim lamp above the stove. She had always had ideas that when she closed a cupboard or the fridge door, which had blocked what was behind it from sight, it would reveal someone standing behind it. It had happened on a few occasions, seeing as she lived with six brothers and two parents. And each time she had shrieked her surprise and dropped what was in her hands.

There was no need to fear such an occurrence anymore, not tonight at least. She was alone in the house, and unless some magical beast decided to pay her a visit, which she highly doubted due to all of the wards around the dwelling, she was safe from such a shock. And so it was for this reason that she moved about silently, the only sound being her feet padding against the worn out floor or the sound of her water pouring into her glass, causing the ice to click softly against the sides as they move upwards towards the rim.

She looked out of the window, to the silvery ground around the Burrow. She had always enjoyed the look of the trees when the moon fell on them just so as it was falling this night. She let out a soft sigh, wishing that the world could be as simple as moonlight. She looked down at her glass of water and idly noticed the way the moonlight sat on its rim. It was like there was a light before her, forcing the gloom in her heart away.

Taking the cool glass in her hand, she turned around. Her eyes settled on something that shouldn't be there, someone that was well out of place in her house. She let out a shriek of surprise, as she always did, and did not even realize the glass had slipped from her hand until she heard it shatter on the surface of the kitchen floor.

"I'm sorry," the someone who was so out of place whispered, not looking even slightly taken aback by her loud outburst. "I didn't mean to startle you."

Ginny clutched at her chest, feeling her pulse race and her heart beat against her chest. She always felt a sadistic pleasure in her own fear for it made her feel so much more alive than when she was simply existing. When she could feel her heart like that she knew that it was still beating, still keeping her alive. She knew it was this reason why she privately enjoyed going to battle for the Order. Or rather, a small part of her enjoyed it, and revelled in the feeling of being so alive. The rest of her, however, felt appalled that she could find her own assurance of life while she took away the very same thing from those around her.

"What are you doing here?" she finally managed, staring at the man who stood before her. Despite all that she had seen over her years of life, she had never expected to see him in such a position. He wasn't supposed to be there. He was supposed to be far far away, tending to his mother and keeping themselves safe. But if he was here, looking as he was with his eyes so shadowed with sorrow, then something had gone terribly wrong. And her heart cried out to him.

"I had to see you Gin," he replied, his shoulders sagging slightly in what she knew was defeat. He had always been difficult to read, but she had learnt, through careful observation, what every angle of his joints, what every slouch or stiffness meant. What every angle of his eyelids meant. It was the only way she could have ever learnt anything about him, for Draco Malfoy seemed to have been made of ice by the time she had become close to him. "I couldn't bear being apart from you any longer."

"But your mother," Ginny insisted, staying still where she was. She didn't know quite why, but she couldn't bring herself to move. It was as though the she was charmed to the ground, anchored there as though by some large magnet. From where she stood, though, she could see him well enough, his silver blond hair, which had felt so soft beneath her fingers, glinting enticingly in the moonlight. Moonlight always made everything seem so simple. Yet she knew for certain, with all her heart and soul, that nothing about a Malfoy was ever simple. Ever. "Certainly you couldn't have left her?"

"Never," the man replied, his posture shifting ever so slightly, telling Ginny of how tired he truly was. She ached to move towards him, to wrap her arms around his slim body and kiss his woes away. She knew she was not physically capable of such a feat, but she longed to attempt it nonetheless. "But how could I stay when there was nothing left of her?"

"Nothing left?" Ginny asked in a whispered gasped. She could not fathom what he meant, but she did not like the sound of such the proclamation. Even the way he had worded his statement held no hope towards anything comforting.

"They got her Gin," he said quietly, hanging his head. Ginny felt her heart nearly break at the sight of him for he looked so broken before her. So in need of repair. "They got her before we even went into hiding. I got to watch her whither away before me, until there was nothing left. I couldn't do a damn thing to help her. And now she's gone."

She could stand it no longer, breaking free of what ever had held her. She took a step forward, letting out another shriek as pain shot up through her foot. She felt her eyes widen. She had forgotten how pain could entice the same sensations as fear, the same intense feeling of being alive. She silently wondered at how she could have forgotten such a thing when she had been a solider on the front lines so often in this war. A solider who had taken more than her share of attacks.

"Are you alright?" he asked her, standing at her side in an instant, the warmth of his body radiating into her own. She had always taken comfort in that warmth. Even when he acted cold as ice, standing away from all that she was, the physical warmth would still be there; just as he would always be when she truly needed him. Recent events had made his presence in her life near impossible, however.

Silently Ginny nodded her head, lifting up her foot to look at the damage she had caused with her foolishness. The moonlight caught at the blood that had blossomed across the sole of her foot. She paused and wondered at it, trying to comprehend how it could seem so harmless, so unreal in the moonlight. Moonlight truly did make everything so simple.

"No, you're not," he replied, his voice going hoarse. They both watched as the blood pooled off of her foot and splattered to the ground again and again. Ginny looked up at him, but could not see his eyes, for his hair, more silver than ever with the moon glinting off of it, blocked them from sight.

She had not expected what he had done next, though she was not exactly sure why she had not. For when he stooped down and swept her up into his arms, she had almost shrieked a third time that night. Ginny took a steadying breath, yet as for what reason she did not quite understand, then snaked her arm around the back of his shoulders to keep herself from feeling awkward. She had always greatly disliked being carried, always wondering if she could trust someone thoroughly enough to not drop her in her moment of need. It was trust she never had in anyone, save her father.

He moved swiftly back into the darkness of the rest of the house, away from the moon and its comforting presence. She did not even think as to how he knew his way around her house in the dark, for the dark distracted her. It seemed so ominous in that moment, so overwhelmingly imposing that she clutched at the man who held her more desperately. She had never been one to be scared of the dark, despite what might lay hidden within it, yet here she was, cowering like a child with no security blanket in sight, only a Malfoy.

The blond made his way to the bathroom on the main floor, and fumbled for the light switch. As soon as his fingers found the knob he flicked it up and the artificial lights from the fluorescent tubes instantly glowed with an eerie light, fighting off the darkness better than any charm could have done in that moment, or so Ginny thought.

He placed her down on the counter, placing her foot in the basin if the sink. Ginny watched through the mirror as he bent down, shifting through the cabinet below her, the muscles of his back shifting this way and that. She was momentarily distracted from all else as she thought of how they felt when they moved, how they seemed to move with a grace she could never hope to acquire. But he had always had such a natural grace about him which she suspected that he did not even realize he possessed.

She hissed slightly as he began to work on her foot, gently prodding and pushing to see if any glass was caught within her foot. Ginny watched, with third person fascination, as more of her blood splattered out of her. It wasn't black like the last time. It was more real this time. More solid. More red. Yet as she watched, the blond man made the redness go away as he gently cleaned her foot and dressed it in the bandages he had found under the sink.

It took too short a time almost, Ginny thought, for him to dress her wound. She almost wanted to stay in that moment forever, have him taking care of her for the rest of eternity, but she knew it was not possible. Malfoy could never take care of anyone but himself for more than a short period of time. With the exception of his mother of course, he could always take care of his mother.

She was caught off guard once more when she felt his strong arms wrap themselves around her once more, lifting her off of the counter and into the air. She looked at herself in the mirror, fascinated by how small and frail she looked while being firmly grasped in his arms. The lines of their bodies, the folds of their clothing, seemed to travel on forever, in a complicated web of matter. She knew that if there was moonlight filling this room instead of the Muggle light the image would look completely different.

"Where are you taking me?" Ginny asked, as he turned the light off once more, plunging her back into the darkness she had so suddenly feared moments before. The darkness reached out for her once again, calling to her to join it in its black abyss of oblivion. She ignored it though, clinging to the warmth and comfort brought to her by the man carrying her.

"Your bed," he replied simply, moving silently through the darkened house, not disturbing a single object. She once again failed to wonder about how it was possible for him to know the layout so well, when even she, who had lived there for many years, could not accomplish such a feat.

Her bedroom was filled with the moonlight she had allowed to flow in before she had left to get a drink. It splashed onto her bed, the sheets glinting as they sat in a rumpled mess. The bed knobs twinkled like stars as the light hit the silver of them, glinting across the room.

Malfoy placed her on the center of the bed and looked down on her, his hair silver once more. She looked up into his eyes, seeing her own being reflected back at her like as if she was looking into a pool of still water. Yet he didn't look away from her as he should have, instead his eyes moved very slowly across her body, as though he was trying to memorize every inch of it. She felt completely naked regardless of the fact that she was wearing clothing.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, dropping his head and pressing his lips down onto hers.

Ginny felt a thrill of excitement travel through her, like she was being electrocuted by his touch, but she found that she could not pull away to make it stop. It was an exquisite pain, one she hadn't felt in so long, and she was not going to give it for anything in the world. Not reality. Not even to the moonlight.

The bed shifted as he added his own weight to it, a creak escaping from the springs, cries from days long past. Ginny felt his fingers brush against her cheeks, then travel down slowly, tracing a burning line to the top buttons of her top. She had forgotten how that sensation felt, forgotten how his touch could feel like it was burning her one moment and soothing away her worries in another.

Her top was gone before she had a moment to realize what had happened to it. It seemed as though it had not been there to begin with, as though she had been walking around the house with nothing to protect her from what may be within it. Protect her from him.

His mouth released hers and slowly began to leave a trail of fire down her skin as he kissed his way down her neck, sucking gently on the hollow between her collarbones. He had always made sure to pay attention to that part of her body, always made sure to give it some attention before he moved on to other areas. She didn't know why, but she was sure that he had his reasons.

She watched as his head, his hair gleaming silver, moved slowly down until he was kissing her chest, every stretch mark, ever freckle that was marring it. Sometimes she wondered how he could kiss at every mark that defiled her body, every mark that kept her skin from being pure like his had once been. The desire to see his skin suddenly washed over her, like a wave of the ocean, and she moved her hands from their positions on his shoulders, slowly down to his chest, where she encountered the smooth, cool surface of the buttons that held his shirt in place. She began to slowly undo them, sliding them through the soft fabric of his shirt.

It did not take her very long to work them apart and expose his perfect skin to the moonlight. She smiled slightly as it glinted, looking perfect and simple; the scars that she knew were there no longer present. They had been washed away by the moonlight, only to return with the sun. It made her sad to think that his perfection would no longer be there in the morning. That it would be pushed away as the moonlight would soon be. But she supposed then that he would be more like her, more imperfect. More real.

She hadn't realized how far he had gone until she felt his fingers slipping between her legs, testing to see if he could still arouse in her the same reaction that he had been able to long before. A moan escaped her lips before she could keep it in, and she saw his thin lips stretch into a ghost of a smirk. She looked up at him and it was as if the image above her suddenly was not him, but instead a perfect image her mind had created for her in her loneliness. As his fingers entered once more, however, she knew he felt far too real to not be.

"Draco," she gasped out after a moment, as he began to settle himself on top of her. He paused in his motions and stared at her in question, his jaw set for whatever she was about to tell him. She had a feeling he thought she would refuse him, make him leave in the midst of what he wanted. But she had no such desire for she wanted him inside of her as much as he wanted to be there. "Will you still be here in the morning, when I wake up?"

He stared at her for a moment, all expression draining from his face, reflecting the face from when she had seen him standing partially in shadow. The moonlight was still in his eyes, still in his hair, and she wished with all of her might that she could keep that image of him forever with her. She wished that if she forgot everything else, that she could keep that one image for the rest of eternity. That simple image.

Slowly he closed his eyes, as if he did not want to see her reaction when he revealed the truth she knew that she would not like to hear. But instead of the single word that would make her world come crashing down, he simply nodded his head once before thrusting into her.

--o--

Ginny awoke the next morning with sunlight resting on her eyelids. She shifted slightly in her bed, feeling the sheets rub against her bare skin in ways that were altogether comforting. The events of the night before slowly filtered into her mind and she smiled not wanting to let go of them. Not wanting to open her eyes and realize that they had been a lie. That he really had left. She knew he wouldn't stay. He never did. She did not want to face it however. She never wanted to face it.

She slowly opened her eyes though, the great expanse of an empty yet slept in bed greeting her eyes. She felt something inside of her drop away as she stared blankly at the rumpled sheets glinting in the sunlight. Sunlight, as opposed to moonlight, made everything very real. Everything very clear.

She had been left once again. She was all alone again. She was always alone these days.

Slowly closing her eyes, she rolled her head into her pillow, the tears spilling slowly out of her eyes and falling into it. She didn't realize that she was shaking, or even making any sounds, until a sob greeted her ears. It took a moment for her to realize that it was coming from her own mouth. The realization of the sound only made her cry harder.

The bed creaked but she ignored it, suddenly despising the old bed and its noisy ways. Despising everything, especially herself for letting herself be hurt again. Hurt and left alone again. Despising the house that had stood empty now for far too long.

"Ginny," a voice said by her ear, and she gasped slightly stopping all movement. "Don't cry, Ginny." A hand gently began to brush her hair away from her face, so gently that it was almost as if it wasn't there. She slowly turned her face upwards, scared of whose face would greet her. She felt her eyes widen despite herself.

"You didn't leave?" she croaked, staring up at the pale face that was staring down on her. Staring at the eyes that were now filled with darker streaks of grey, brought out by the sunlight.

"I couldn't," he whispered, his hand still streaking her hair. "I just couldn't do it." He dropped his head down and rested it against hers. "Not again."

Not another word was spoken as he crawled back into the bed, his body pressing into the back of hers, arms wrapped securely around her. She pressed her head back into him, hopping and praying that she was not simply dreaming this, that the sunlight that was making this so real would keep it real. That she truly was alone no longer. Alone in the moonlight.

--o--

A/N: Hmm, reading this thing over I have decided that I don't really care for it at all. Oh well. What did you think? Probably not smutty enough, right? Well poop on you then. :p