Chapter One: Interference and an Introduction
When Ginny Weasley first saw the guest list for Mandy Brocklehurst and Dean Thomas's wedding, she gasped. She choked. She sputtered. She laughed hysterically. When she finally cornered Mandy to ask her why she was inviting the man who had broken her heart so many years ago, the blushing bride-to-be insisted he attend. "Why, of course I'm inviting him!" she exclaimed, a quizzical smile twisting the corners of her mouth. "He's been such a dearie to me." And that was that. There she went again, prattling on about flowers and dresses when all Ginny wanted to do was shake her by the shoulders until her head shook and her hair fell out of its perfect do and the vacant, bland expression left her face. Instead, Ginny slapped her hand when it twitched involuntarily, a shameful blush springing to her cheeks although Mandy didn't notice.
Ginny had always loathed Mandy's sense of entitlement. The only girl in the Brocklehurst family for several generations, Mandy had come out of the womb with rings on her fingers and pearls for teeth. Throughout her Hogwarts education she had lived in the shadows of her elder brothers, but Mandy had floated through. She never had to do homework or learn to cast a spell that didn't involve changing her appearance. Although McGonagall had frowned every time Mandy blew a kiss down the hallway at some moon-faced lover, that was the way it was. Money and beauty: now that was a fatal combination, and Mandy had been born knowing what to do with it.
In contrast, Ginny's education had been obscure. Even before the Chamber of Secrets, she had lived in the wallpaper, gliding along to classes and slipping in front of people to get to the library faster. The library was her haven from the world, her portal to stories that made beautiful sense and explained why a little girl would become so tainted and so tragic a victim. In those worlds things happened in the right order and to the right people. And above all else, they all had happy endings.
Ginny dreamed of happy endings, lying on her bunk in the far corner of the girls' dormitory. She dreamed of Harry Potter, but more of the idea of the perfect savior Harry than the haunted protagonist he really was. She wanted perfection in everything, writing plots for her life and tucking them into books nobody would read, into places nobody could find. Or so she thought. He had found them and read them, had learned the story of her life, and he had manipulated her until she cried out with need. He had played her like an instrument in his hands, crafted her to become his and his only. He had danced her to the moon and twirled her out, but when he let go she crashed down to earth, broken, smashed, and useless. She had been picking up the pieces of herself for the last seven years.
And now it was "the day", and Mandy was coming down the aisle in her strapless white gown, which was encrusted with diamonds. Ginny knew how much that dress cost to the Galleon; she had been there when it was custom ordered from Madam Malkin's Paris location. Afraid to touch anything, she had stayed in the background while twenty of Mandy's closest friends oohed and aahed at the pretty materials and the frosty gems. Later, she had explained it to her friend Lavender Brown, "It felt so wrong when I went in there, like I was a little kid in a shop and everyone was watching me to make sure I didn't break anything." It's obviously not for me, Ginny had thought to herself. This world is full of people wearing masks, but I won't play. I won't be like them.
Ginny huffed; white was obviously not the proper color for a girl who had been going at it with many men before her fiancée. Even getting "born again" six times didn't change that. She stewed in her evil thoughts until a low baritone voice cut in smoothly, murmuring "I agree. Perhaps green would be a better color?" Green for envy, Ginny thought wryly. How true. Realizing her thoughts were not appropriate for the wedding, Ginny flushed pink and discreetly coughed twice, just very slightly. He didn't talk again during the ceremony, but Ginny could feel him staring fixedly at her, making the hairs rise on the nape of her neck. All of a sudden, she wished she hadn't worn her hair up in her ropy Grecian bun. She felt naked all down her back: naked, cold, and shameful. Goose bumps rose as a cool breeze lightly skimmed her back and Ginny wished the wedding had been held inside. Her low-backed red dress rustled slightly and Ginny felt it screamed wantonly "Do me!" They didn't say that at the store, she mused, thinking of her earlier travel to Gladrags' Wizarding Wear's Special Occasion section. In fact, she hadn't even tried it on, as there had been such a rush from visiting Beauxbatons pupils.
Ginny returned to her body feeling as if she had just surfaced from diving; her ears suddenly worked, the world was no longer fuzzy, and she could feel the smooth slinky fabric of her dress glide under her fingertips. Shaking her head once, she composed herself and quickly left the pew, moving toward the reception hall at a fast clip, at least for a woman in three inch heels. Moisture formed on the back of her neck as she hiked up the grassy hill, her heels sinking into the soft ground every step of the way. She muttered every curse she had ever learned as the delicate hem of her dress brushed in mud. Her bangs fell forward as she hiked her dress to a safe length; she swore as she brushed them back, momentarily stopping as she reached the crest of the hill. She took inventory: hair, messy; dress, muddy; shoes – she looked down – irreparable. "Shit."
"No, just mud", Draco replied offhandedly from behind her. She jumped, but in an attempt to prove she had known he was there, she clenched her fists and turned around.
"Draco," she stated coolly. All the while she berated herself for not having anything to say. –Say something, anything! - her brain screamed. –You should have prepared for this! You knew it was impossible not to see him again someday! - That word echoed in her head, -SOMEDAY Someday someday-, fading to a hopeful whisper of all that she had known and loved about him. Emotions - grief for what she had lost and love for his cool and impassionate arrogance - flooded her body with a surge of heat. Looking up, Ginny realized that heat was Draco. He had enfolded her in his arms to hold her up. Beating at his chest, she staggered back, breathing hard and trying desperately to avoid smirking back at him.
"I'm fine!" she yelled, and repeated more quietly "I'm fine". Draco just looked at her in her dress and she knew that he knew those words were for her own benefit more than his. Suddenly afraid of her burning desire and what she might do if she remained alone with him, she turned and, picking up her shoes, raced away. Although she knew he wouldn't follow her, she kept running, ignoring the scratches on her legs and the rips in her dress. She didn't look back; she knew he would be standing there like a part of the hill face, that shadowy expression on his face.
She stopped a few hundred meters away and leaned against a tree trunk, feeling the rough textured bark against her back, cooling her anxiety. Remembering Draco's haggard face with purple streaks under his eyes, she suddenly realized how tired he seemed. What had he been doing that would have made him that fatigued? Her fingers itched to smooth the crease from his brow, and in the face of that new temptation she sprang away and continued to flee. Her steps were tainted by an inexplicable dread. Futile. All that running was for naught and she knew it, for no matter how she tried to get away from him, she knew he would find her. Of course he would. He was there. He was unexplainable. He was Draco.
A/N: Hope you liked the chappie! I know I haven't updated in a really long time, especially on NTGYTYK (long acronym), but I have just been busy with life, love, and laughter. I hope you realize how hard things are to write that have personal elements in them. Even with another character's perspective, I refuse to write in first person. I am not a very open person. Probably 75-90 of what you think you know about my thoughts is not true (depending on how good of a friend you are). I also experimented with a new writing style, one more modern (but hopefully still grammatically correct) than my typical old-world lyrical style. This change is not permanent; I hope to use it for this story only to reflect the more modern setting. Feel free to review and tell me if you enjoyed the style! I read any and all reviews. Anyway, this looks really long on the chapter preview screen but will probably not even be enough to scroll down on :( Sorry. I have needs though. I guarantee I will update about 4-5 chappies this summer, as my job was abruptly pulled out from under me. Safeway bagger, here I come! Thanks, and hope to see good reviews (give an example of what you liked)!
Egypped