A/N: Okay, so this is my first ever Draco and Ginny one shot. Now, I am bad at writing romance, so thus you will see this doesn't have much. However, I will work on that in the upcoming stories that I decide to write (type). I just kind of liked this concept, so I wrote it.

Also, I apologize for any mistakes. I haven't re-read it, so yeah.

Disclaimer: Everything, the setting, the characters, the whole Harry Potter world belongs to JKR.

Silence and Solace

It was strange; sometimes you tended to find solace in the least likely of places.

Ginny Weasley had never been one to enjoy silence. She had always preferred chaos. It always made things feel a lot more alive. For Ginny Weasley, silence was always synonymous to death. Yet today, as she turned the corner of an empty corridor, she found herself appreciating that very silence. She still held it synonymous to death, but that was exactly what it was, wasn't it? She wanted to mourn the loss of her elder brother. She wanted to mourn the loss of everyone she had grown to care about. She continued walking, looking around occasionally to ensure she was alone.

It was silly. Now that she had returned to Hogwarts, along with Hermione, she suddenly began feeling it was all a really bad idea. She would have been better had she stayed back. There was hardly a difference in the atmosphere back there and out here. Wherever she did choose to be, there was a sense of mourning. Perhaps the only difference, she thought, was that she would at least be around her family had she stayed back.

She came to an abrupt halt outside one of the abandoned classrooms. She gazed at it. This was never how she had imagined her seventh year to be like; running away from people, trying to find solace in an abandoned classroom. That was certainly not Ginny Weasley. Taking a deep breath, she slowly turned the knob to open the door. She, indeed, was mildly surprised when it opened with a mild 'creak'. She had expected it to be locked. Hesitating slightly, she walked inside and seated herself down on one of the benches nearest to the door.

She stared silently at the blackboard, willing the tears to fall out of her eyes. However, her eyes remained perfectly dry. She gazed unblinkingly, sighing softly. She was in her seventh year, along with Hermione. Hermione had been the only one from the trio to return. Not many from her batch had returned either. Ginny, having been there for most of her sixth year during the war, was given the option to give her seventh year, along with those who returned from her batch. There really weren't that many, now that she thought about it. She would have been happy to finally be able to share classes with Hermione and the others, but it didn't seem to matter much now.

Thinking this to be a stupid idea, she made a move to get up when she heard a soft sob. She would have even missed it, had she not been focusing too intently on the eerie silence. Standing up abruptly, she turned around and stared farther into the classroom. There in the farthest corner sat Draco Malfoy, his head on the desk, clearly unaware of her presence, and shaking lightly as he continued to sob.


This was a stupid idea. What was his mother even thinking? This had to be the most stupid idea ever.

Draco walked through the house tables in the Great Hall, making his way silently up to the Slytherin table, hoping to slip by unnoticed by the entire crowd of people.

His mother had insisted on Draco coming back to complete his final year. Draco had tried to make it as clear as he could that he was not really going to be accepted with open arms back to Hogwarts, but his mother insisted anyway. His father had supported the decision as well, and in the end, he really had not got much say.

It was still a stupid idea, for almost no one had returned from his year, the exceptions being Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson and two or three other Slytherins. But they didn't have the tag 'death eater' to their names, did they? Almost anyone whose family had been death eaters were either rounded up in Azkaban, or had chosen to move abroad. But here he was, walking past the Gryffindors, the Hufflepuffs and the Ravenclaws, making his way to probably the only two people in the whole school who would even look at him— Blaise and Pansy.

He reached the table and sat down quietly beside Pansy Parkinson. She gave him a small smile but said nothing. Maybe even she was reconsidering associating with him, he thought bitterly. Zabini had not been much of a friend to Draco. They were more of allies than anything else. Zabini gave him a stiff nod and got back to his supper.

Draco glanced around his table. The younger Slytherins were whispering, looking at him occasionally. Great, he thought, now my own housemates hate me. He didn't dare look up at the Gryffindor table, for he was sure they all would be shooting daggers at him. He ate his food quietly, trying to supress the feeling of bitterness within him. He almost never had bothered to have friends, being the bully that he was; he was usually content to have Crabbe and Goyle flanking him on each side. He always had Pansy Parkinson hovering around him, trying to grab his attention in some way or the other. Zabini, although not much like Crabbe and Goyle, was still somehow a part of the Slytherin group they had. And Draco had never really bothered talking to anyone from the other houses; bullying was more like it.

The whispering around him grew considerably louder. He tried to glare at the first and second years, but they made no move to stop whispering. He rose up from his seat and strode away from the Great Hall.

All he needed was a bit of quiet, as he walked blindly up the stairs. He rounded a corner in a deserted corridor and stood in front of an old classroom. By the looks of it, it had been abandoned. He pointed his wand at the door, whispered the incantation 'alohomora' and walked in as the door opened, making a soft creaking sound.

He walked right up to the far end of the classroom and settled himself on one of the benches, and threw his head down on the desk. He didn't really know what triggered it, but before he knew it, he was sobbing uncontrollably, clearly unaware to anything around him.


"Malfoy?" Ginny said softly, taking a cautious step towards the figure. "Is that you?"

Draco's entire body went stiff. He slowly raised his head up to look straight at Ginny Weasley standing in front of him. "What are you doing here?" He asked roughly.

Ginny simply shrugged. "I could ask you the same thing."

"What I do or do not do is none of your business." Draco glared at her. "Just leave me alone."

"Funny, you never really left any of us alone when we wanted you to." Ginny countered, settling down on a bench across from him.

"So its revenge time, is it?" Draco asked.

"You could say so." Ginny replied. She fell silent for a moment, contemplating something. Then, "But really, what are you doing out here?"

"Crying; happy, are you?" Draco snapped. "Go on, spread the word. Have a nice little laugh at my expense."

Ginny laughed. "Well, it is quite the perfect opportunity for me, you know."

"No one's stopping you. Go ahead."

"But I won't, you know." Ginny said. "Because then there wouldn't be a difference between me and you, would there?" At Malfoy's blank expression, she sighed. "I do not laugh at others' miseries, you know."

"But I'm different. I thought you'd kill for an opportunity to put me down."

"I would have, if I had not been here for similar reasons." Ginny replied promptly. "And don't even try to ask me why I'm here."

"I wasn't going to." Draco said, resting his head back on the desk.

"I guess I'll just g—"

"You can stay," Draco interrupted. "I don't own this school. You can sit here if you want. Just don't talk to me, alright?"

"That's generous of you," Ginny said sarcastically but remained seated anyway.

They both sat there in silence, but Draco didn't feel the urge to cry again. He found himself relatively at ease. Ginny, on the other hand, seemed to find the silence suddenly a lot more comforting. They just continued sitting there, each aware of the other's presence, yet in some peculiar way, completely oblivious to each other.


"I regret the things I've done," said Draco, as he sat down on a bench. It had been almost three weeks since he had first encountered Ginny in the abandoned classroom. At the time, the both had remained silent, and hadn't spoken much. Over the weeks, the routine had continued. Neither was willing to sacrifice their hiding place for the other. So it had been decided silently among the two. They would share the place, come here every day for the much needed silence, and not say a word to each other.

Ginny, of course, had found the routine difficult. Being brought up with six brothers—now five—she had never been given the chance to silence, and alone time. But she wasn't complaining, because she hadn't enjoyed silence much, anyway. On the rare days, Ginny did keep silent. But it was hard, when she knew there was another person around.

Draco, apparently, had thought the same, and one fine day, he had broken the silence.

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Do you, now?" she asked.

Draco had failed to catch the sarcastic tone, and continued further. He almost seemed to look like she wasn't around, and that he was speaking to himself. "I was always brought up to think of myself as superior to others. I looked up to my father, and I still do." Ginny snorted, but he ignored her. Unabashed, he continued: "I still think mudbloods shouldn't be welcome in our society. It's the way I think, and I probably will never get past that. Although—," here he came to a halt.

"Although, what?" Ginny prodded.

He looked at her. "I wish I had friends."

Ginny didn't say anything. She stared at him, seemingly incapable to frame the right words. Taking a deep breath, she finally said: "You wish you had friends?"

"It's only now that I realize I never had friends." Draco said. "I thought Pansy, Zabini, Crabbe and Goyle…."

"They were never your friends, Malfoy." Ginny cut in.

Draco almost laughed. "Why are you bothering, anyway?"

That was a good question, Ginny thought. It was funny, how she wanted to know what he had to say in his defence. Somehow, she felt she could help him. But that was stupid, wasn't it? She had sworn to hate him, but here she was; she wanted to actually help him.

"Honestly, I don't know." Ginny said truthfully. "Maybe I just…pity you."

She had expected him to snap back at her. She had expected a retort, and so she was honestly surprised when he sighed and said, "Thanks, I guess." They both lapsed back into silence.

"You know, the way we're going, it looks like we could almost be friends." Ginny commented at length.

"I wouldn't mind that, somehow." Draco replied softly. He looked at Ginny expectantly.

Ginny stared at him for what seemed like ages. He had suggested with quite subtlety that they become friends. She wasn't sure if she wanted it. True, she pitied him. True again, she knew he wasn't evil. And something had then clicked in her mind. He had had a difficult childhood. He had been just like her, albeit with a bit of a difference. The two of them had been used as baits by Voldemort.

Voldemort had used Ginny to get to Harry. Voldemort had used Draco to punish his family. The two of their lives had held little meaning to the terrifyingly evil wizard. And Ginny knew how she had felt, doing those terrible things without having memory of doing it.

And Draco had attempted the terrible things, having no other way round it. He must have felt as helpless as she had felt.

And she was given a second chance, because no one blamed her. She had been helpless.

Draco deserved a second chance too, but yet he had been blamed. He had been helpless too.

"My friends call me Ginny," she said finally. "So, you can, too."

And then Draco smiled at her. It was genuine, with no hint of mockery. He was happy, and it showed.

"Thanks, Ginny." He said.


The weeks had stretched into months, and then it had been a year. Ginny and Draco had kept up with their friendship, meeting in the abandoned classroom, and talking. Ginny had told Hermione about her friendship with Draco, and Hermione had encouraged her. It helped that Hermione was a forgiving person at heart.

Draco had told Ginny everything about his childhood. Ginny had narrated stories about her childhood to him. From light-hearted conversations to serious ones, they discussed it all. And the growing comfort between the two had been somewhat pleasant. And before they knew it, they had become something akin to best friends. They did exchange insults occasionally, but it had all been in good humour.

It was the last day of the term, and they were sitting under the tree by the lake. Ginny was playing with a loose strand of her hair, smiling to herself, and Draco was staring at the lake.

"Why are you smiling?" He asked suddenly, looking at her.

"I was just thinking." Ginny replied.

"Okay." And they were silent.

"Do you think you could have done it, Draco?" Ginny asked suddenly, her expression serious.

Draco looked at her curiously. "And you're referring to what, precisely?" he asked.

"Do you think you could have killed Professor Dumbledore?" Ginny said.

Draco visibly flinched. He averted his gaze back to the lake and took a deep breath. Exhaling, he said: "Do you think I could have?"

Ginny looked thoughtful, and after much contemplation, shook her head. "No, I don't think so." She answered solemnly.

"I'm a coward, is that why?"

"Partly," Ginny supplied. "But, you wouldn't have done it even if you weren't a coward." At Draco's confused look, she elaborated further: "Your heart wasn't in it, Draco. You didn't want to do it. If you had wanted to, you would have found a way to do it."

"That's deep." Draco commented.

"You're not evil, so yeah, don't think that you are."

"But I did willingly enter the dark arts." Draco said. He raised the sleeve of his shirt and pointed at the now faded mark on his forearm. "This is proof."

"You were branded as a punishment to your parents." Ginny said. She took his arm in her hand and looked at it. "This proves nothing."

For a long moment, Draco didn't know what to say. He closed his eyes, willing his pulse rate to calm down. He knew if he didn't build up the courage to do it now, he would never be able to do it ever again. He wasn't even sure he would see her after this day. She obviously had plans for her life, and he wasn't going to be a part of it. Sighing, he opened his eyes, only to notice her staring observantly at him.

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

Draco shook his head, and before the rational part of his mind could provide a particularly logical reasoning as to why this wasn't right, he leaned forward and kissed her.

Ginny froze. The rational part of her mind was screaming at her that this is wrong, but another part was arguing back. She was trying to focus on the argument she was having inside of her, but it was difficult when Draco was kissing her. Eventually, she gave in, and kissed him back. She gasped a little when he deepened the kiss. Ginny responded in kind, her arms circling themselves around his neck.

Draco found his arms circling her waist, pulling her closer to him as he kissed her. He was trying to make her feel what he was feeling, and as though she understood, Ginny tightened her hold on him.

Draco slowly pulled away, and looked at her. Her eyes were closed, and her breathing was heavy. He dropped his arms and made a move to get up, when she surprised him by pressing herself flush against him, and hugged him tightly.

Taken aback for just a moment, Draco slowly brought his hands around her waist again, tightening his grip almost automatically.

This was wrong on so many levels, but yet it felt so right. He wished he could make this moment last forever. Right now, all he knew was that she was in his arms, and he was seeking comfort in her embrace.

And it seemed like she was doing the same.

It was indeed strange; sometimes you tended to find solace in the least likely of places.

And for them, it was in the arms of each other.


A/N; Reviews are appreciated :)