A/N Written for Aerileigh's challenge:
Aerileigh's Soundtrack Challenge I
The only rules are as follows:
1. Must be inspired by the following piece of music: Regina Spektor - "Samson"
(You can define "inspired by" however you choose. Whether it's simply the chord progression or a downright literal interpretation of the lyrics* is up to you - just don't break rule 4)
2. Must ship Draco/Ginny
3. Must be a one-shot. No length constraints, but it can't be chaptered.
4. Must NOT be a song fic.
This is to be an open challenge; there is no deadline. I'll eventually pick another song (of a very different sort) and post a second challenge (perhaps in a month or six), but this challenge won't close.
*Just realized that this song is more D/G than I first thought, with the red hair/long hair bit...oh well. Be creative
~Enjoy~
If you knew either Ginny or Draco during their days at Hogwarts, you would never have guessed that the couple were more than two enemies who quarreled in the hallways, about family, about quidditch, about anything; his weapon of choice: cunning and arrogance, hers: shrillness and harsh words and occasionally an infamous Bat Bogey hex. Though if you looked hard enough, you would have noticed that these quarrels hadn't occurred since her fifth year, his sixth. But then again, I was the only one who looked.
How I wish I could be Draco Malfoy.
I loved her first.
Draco Malfoy, who would most likely have been Head Boy had he not been on the run from You-Know-Who. Draco Malfoy, who had made every Gryffindor cry at some time in his school career. Draco fucking Malfoy, the man who had taken the heart of what was once my Ginny. He was right when he made those sneering comments; he always got what he wanted. Not that Ginny was just a conquest to him; I would never have said that to his face lest I be slashed by a thousand curses until my head rolled on the floor.
But I loved her first.
And it pained me one hundred fold to see them laughing (or rather, her tossing her head back and chortling, him gazing at her face in a sickeningly lovesick way, chuckling and smirking with those lips that dared to touch those of my Ginny) in Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley, depending on which of his homes they were staying at. I missed when she used to laugh with me, kissed me. I have never known myself to be so possessive. But the way the chocolate of her eyes used to melt into syrup at the sight of me will haunt me to my dying day. Her laugh is music I replay in my head at night in bed, over and over, until I become so besought that I punch my fists into my pillows until I fall asleep crying. I can't think straight, knowing her heart is with the goddamn Slytherin.
She's a Gryffindor. She belongs with a Gryffindor.
And I loved her first.
Hell, Slytherins were known for lying! Ginny, how could you not see that the man you thought you loved- think you love- could never deserve your love- could have been telling falsehoods at any moment! Not even you, luv, can really know what lay beyond his façade; snakes show no emotion. But alas, I could never tell you this now. Not ever. Ever. Ever. You've had enough heartbreak.
Seeing them together at the shops, smiling and happy, was a thousand times better than seeing them together at the shops, forcing smiles, while he was already starting to lose his hair, lose that healthy look about him. When Ginny looked in his eyes, there was no longer that mirth that was so obvious before. Sorrow and the silent breaking of her heart had replaced it. You could see her die a little every time he spoke, not much louder than a whisper. If he coughed, as he did often, her eyes glazed over. When he touched her in the slightest, there was no more spark. Only dread and that feeling I imagine one feels when with your star-crossed lover. In some ways I wished he would get better, for the sole purpose of making her smile again, really smile. Full lips pulled back, teeth peeking between, the small gap between her two front teeth making her look irresistible.
Whenever I see her now, I have the urge to scream sense into her. "He's gone! You can be happy now! Take me instead! I still love you! Dean Thomas still loves you!" I want to wave my hand in front of her face and make her see me; she doesn't seem to see anything anymore through the cloud of tears that shades her once-vibrant eyes. You would think she had been cursed, not him, if you saw her, shuffling along to the shop they had opened. It was a bookstore, with old books; new books; textbooks; any book, you name it. How she had convinced him that opening a shop would be helpful at all, I can only imagine, as the Malfoy business was still thriving even after the War. But then again, if she had looked me in the eyes and told me she wanted a book shop, I would have given it to her faster than you can say, "I love you."
Because I loved her first.
And I always will.