Harry was right. The war will hurt people you love. I thought I had learnt that lesson and vowed never to harm someone at my expense, but now I have. I should never have fallen in love again…
--
A destitute hut in the outskirts of Scotland (October 27, 1996)
"We cannot meet anymore, Ginny. It's getting too dangerous. He'll be bringing his army to attack soon." Unspoken words passed between the two of them. It is going to be the last time we meet, until the war is over.
Ginny drew closer to him, her eyes on him. There was no fear in them. Just love. Love for him.
Why?
It bewildered him. It confused him. It was unexplainable. Yet he felt the same way for her too. He pulled her to him and leaned down, capturing her lips with his…
He shivered slightly as he put on his black robes. The Warming Charm that he had placed around the hut was wearing off, but it would suffice until she awoke. She shifted barely, the blanket covering her body revealing slightly the affairs of the previous night. Glancing fleetingly at the redhead, Draco Malfoy left Ginny Weasley, whispering softly into the still air.
"Ginny… I was dead before I met you, I was born the day you loved me and my love for you will keep me alive. Forever…"
Dawn was approaching, the start of a new day, and the beginning of a never-ending wait.
--
Order of the Phoenix Headquarters (December 21, 1997)
The war had been going on for a year. She had not seen him since their last night together. Ginny sat on the edge of her bed, brooding. In her hand was a photograph of him, wearing the look he always had. Cold and unreachable. She fingered it tenderly, and her heart ached once more at the thought of him.
The way their relationship started was not a contemporary one. Sure, they knew each other, but as enemies. Strangely, however, opposites often attract. They had never planned to fall in love. It had bloomed like a flower in spring, a rose, to be more precise. Beautiful to the eye, soft to the touch, but beware its thorns.
"You miss him, don't you?" Hermione's voice cut through her thoughts. Ginny gave a startled squeak, shoving the picture under her pillow.
"It's no use hiding it, Ginny," she said. "I've seen you staring at it these many months. Your eyes hold a spark whenever you look at him."
Ginny did not say anything.
"Love won't save you, Ginny," Hermione continued gently. "At this time, you don't even know if he is still alive."
"Don't try and talk about what you don't know, Hermione!" Ginny burst out. "You don't have anyone you love to worry about. Draco is still alive!"
Aghast, Hermione stood up and walked away after throwing a last sorrowful look at her, leaving Ginny alone to sleep away her fears.
Draco was suddenly standing in front of her. Ginny could hardly believe what she was seeing. Was their long wait over? Could they finally be together again? Her eyes moistened, and she reached out for him…but there was nothing but air.
Back then, that was my deepest fear, that I would wake up and hear that he was dead. The fear had stealthily crept up into my heart, silently, a tiger on the prowl. Then, it leaped up, pinning down my fear, clawing at it, bit by bit. That fear now is a reality.
--
By now, I am beyond worry. The worry, permanently etched onto my mind, present in my thoughts, gripping my heart. But during that time, I always had a feeling that Draco was still living, fighting day to day, until we would meet again. However, because we broke the rules, we had to pay…
--
Camberwell, Central London (April 12, 1998)
Another year of the war had passed, causing more pain for both of them. But the war had toughened them. Ginny had fought countless Death-Eaters behind their masks while worrying if she would ever have to face Draco in combat. Draco, too, had fought many battles, both with himself and for his lord.
"Crucio!" A bright red beam shot out from his wand, causing his opponent to fall to the ground in agony. "Avada Kedavra!" And the screams were silenced. That slight movement, done almost carelessly, taking yet another life.
Draco tripped over a lifeless body, and another one. But this one was not completely still. There were shallow movements of the chest, of someone trying desperately to breathe. Taking a closer look, he saw a pale arm with long slender fingers. It was a female, he deduced. He felt a twinge of compassion, something he had not felt in a long time – not since the last time Ginny had begged him to let Zabini go.
"Please! Let me go!" the Slytherin begged. Blood was splattered down his front, covering every inch of white on his clothes. Draco raised his wand, ready to cast another array of curses. " "No!" a weak voice cried. That solitary sound immediately caused Draco to drop his wand and rush to the girl. "Let him go. Just let him go," Ginny said tiredly. Draco glared menacingly. " "We need to be more careful. At these times, anything can happen," Ginny said, her apprehension clear. All they wanted was to see each other; not even for a date. Their meticulous planning had been for naught. All it had taken was for one, and that would be the end…
The hand shifted in the slightest bit, but the insignificant action caught Draco's eye. He lifted her lithe body effortlessly and Apparated to their hut, the only safe place he knew.
He placed the body gently on the ground, uncovering the cloth shielding her face. A single word raced through his mind. Ginny.
Her body was bruised and a gash ran from her elbow to her knuckle. That wound, caused by magic, would never be healed properly and would leave a remainder for as long as she lived. Her hair, matted with blood and sweat, was so unlike the previous times he had seen her. It tore open his heart, a piercing that was even deeper than her wound.
Draco tended to all the wounds for long hours, untiringly, but even after the cuts had faded, she would not wake. When will you wake, Ginny? It has been so long, it hurts so much to have you right here in front of me and not really here at all.
Days passed in silence. Ginny's comatose-like state remained. Her face was stony, without a trace of emotion, contradictory to her usual blithe smile and dancing eyes. During these lonely times, Draco would reminisce, reflecting, remembering…
He had gone to confide in Moaning Myrtle once again, but someone was already there. Ginny Weasley. "There, there." Myrtle patted her head, although her hand went straight right through. "He'll be back… Harry Potter always survives anything," she said, a little bitterly. Draco froze. Potter was not in school? With Dumbledore, he presumed. He could carry out his plan now. Ginny gave another loud sniff. Why then did he hesitate for that one second? He needed all the time he could to prepare for the task, which would bring him the highest honour any Death Eater had ever dreamed of. Slowly, he backed out of the bathroom. When he reached the corridor, he turned and ran. It was now or never.
-- He had picked himself right up, determined and forcible, enduring the others' taunts, and finally became Voldemort's right hand man. And then, he fell again, further than ever. He fell in love with a blood traitor. Worse than a Muggle or Mudblood. Yet it did not seem so important to him anymore…
But he had failed. Snape killed Dumbledore, because he was too weak to perform the Killing Curse himself. For that, he had fallen from grace and was nearly killed himself, had not Snape, the honoured one, spoken for him. It was harsh and grim.
A sharp sting jolted him out of his thoughts. Draco clutched his left forearm, gasping slightly. He had to go… he did not want to go… he could not go…
Ginny, in her precarious state, needed him. And he would stay. Another bolt of pain, more angry this time, struck the mark again. Gritting his teeth harder, withstanding the pain, Draco stayed put.
"Go, Draco," a voice by his side murmured. His eyes shot over to Ginny's still form, but she had not moved. "Do not die because of me, or I will never forgive myself." He sensed that she wanted him to go, and with a reluctant heart, he Apparated to meet his master.
Little Hangleton Cemetery (June 5, 1998)
His blood-red eyes surveyed the mass of them; all were cloaked in billowing black robes and masks. Snake-like eyes which unveiled your every thought, yet, you yourself could never penetrate his own thoughts.
"There is one… who is not here. I feel that he is straying from the path we take…" Voldemort pointed an unnaturally long, pale finger at the gap between Crabbe and Goyle.
A sharp pop displaced the silence.
"Draco, we've been awaiting your appearance," he said silkily.
"My deepest apologises, my lord." Draco bowed and kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes.
"Do not try and use Occlumency against me, Draco," Voldemort hissed. "You're a strong Occlumens, but you can never block me. Lord Voldemort will always know…"
Draco struggled to keep his face impassive, but all of a sudden, a bolt of red hit him. He writhed on the floor in agony, his screams piercing the night. No one moved to help him, no one cared. His body was on fire… His head was going to burst… He was never going to see her again…
Dark auburn hair. Warm brown eyes. A fiery temper. Ginny. An image of her flashed through his mind, and Draco knew he had lost.
The pain ceased, but all Draco could wish was for it to continue. The Dark Lord had found out at last.
"I had sensed that you were unfocused and unwilling to cooperate with me anymore, Draco. Now that I know it is true, you are longer of no use to me." There was a jet of green light, and the thump of a body crumpling onto the floor was heard.
"Dispose of it, Wormtail."
Somewhere else far away, Ginny awoke, screaming.. It was a bloodcurdling, bone chilling sound. One would never even be able to begin to describe it. It depicted pain, sorrow, and a lost love which would never be replaced.
--
A vibrant redhead ran over to him, giving him a forceful kiss on the lips. When she finally pulled back, panting slightly, he spoke. "What a nice way to be greeted." The boy's grin was genuine for once in his life. It had been a month since they last met. The girl laughed spiritedly for a moment, and then turned serious. "Times are getting darker, more perilous." She faced him. "I don't know if this is the last time I will see you alive again, so I want to create these memories which I will always remember." "What if one of us ended up…dead…" She said wisely, a touch of sadness laced her words. "Nothing is ever certain in the war, so we should always spend each minute together like it's our last." Draco murmured his consent. Right now, he was content just to be by her side.
They never knew how true that statement was going to be…
--
He is gone. Forever. That word makes it seem so real, his death an undeniable fact, that everything is really true. And it's all because of me…
--
While both were alive, they could barely meet. Now one has passed, there will never be a happy ending.
Author's note: It's the first time posting a fic since THE longest time... Please R/R.. I really liked this one(: