Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related subjects/characters belong to JK Rowling.
A/N: Just a short, sad D/G piece I wrote. Hope you like it. As always, reviews are extremely appreciated.
I wish things could have been different between us.
It'll be okay. They can't punish you for helping to save the world.
Ginny looked around the empty graveyard, shaking her head in disbelief. Blaise had sworn that Draco would be here, but she couldn't believe it. What would he be doing in a graveyard? He would be packing away all his pretty clothes. He would be setting his house elves free. He would be dodging reporters and all his high society girls. He would be selling the manor to raise some pocket money for his new life. Your fault, a voice nagged silently. If you hadn't convinced him to change...She heard a noise behind her and she spun around to see him kicking a gravestone.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
"I would think that would be self-evident. I am calmly kicking my father's gravestone. I just wanted to see it. And hope that he's rotting in hell."
"You weren't going to say goodbye, then?"
She searched his eyes for some idea of what he was thinking. She had never been able to tell what lay behind those steely gray eyes, and today was no exception. No matter how long she had been with him, she figured she would always wonder if he loved her. Now she wouldn't have the chance to find out.
He looked back at her, thinking nearly the opposite thoughts. For a girl whose eyes had always betrayed her every feeling, he had no idea what she was thinking now. What exactly did she want from him?
He laughed softly and turned one corner of his mouth up into a bitter smile, "Goodbyes are too hard, Ginny. You've always known I'm a coward. It shouldn't surprise you too much now."
He helped us! Who didn't kill someone in the war? Why aren't you trying Harry if killing in war is such an offence? I killed Lucius Malfoy! Why aren't I up on the stand?
She glared at him, "You're no coward. Look at what you've done. All the lives you've saved. The cowards are the Wizengamot and everyone who supports them."
"I don't regret it, Ginny."
And still his eyes remained the same. Ever a shield of his thoughts and feelings.
"Do you love me?" she burst out.
"I hope you aren't expecting a proposal in a graveyard, because that would just be creepy."
"For once in our lives, can we not hide behind these jaded appearances and sarcastic quips? Do you love me, or not?"
Draco averted his eyes, "Ginny, this is a conversation we should have had long before now. Because now, it just doesn't matter."
Ginny felt a tear slip down her face. It didn't matter. But she wanted it to matter. She had thought that anything was possible, but now the only thing she wanted was something she couldn't have. She wanted him to ask her to come with him. But he didn't. She knew that if she asked, he would say no. So she didn't ask.
Draco covertly glanced up at Ginny, hoping to see a change in her face. But there was nothing he could discern but her grief. He wanted her to ask to come. If he asked her, she would say yes because she was kind and good and all the things he wasn't. So she would come with him. She would be miserable and say nothing. Eventually she would hate even him and still say nothing. And that was one thing he couldn't stand.
Ginny had once told him that loving someone meant giving up things in order to make the other person happy. And that was why she would come if he asked her. But why would anyone give anything up for him?
Draco Malfoy. I sentence you to muggle exile. You must leave Britain today and live out the rest of your natural life as a muggle.
Draco looked up to see the sun rapidly sinking below the horizon. It was time for him to go.
"I guess this is goodbye." He whispered.
"I guess it is." She responded in kind.
Each kept fervently hoping that the other would ask. If only they would ask.
Draco pulled a folded piece of parchment out of his pocket. He dropped it and performed the last magic he ever would. He disapparated before it had even fluttered to the ground.
Trembling as tears flooded down her face, Ginny bent down and picked it up. I love you. That was all it said in his elegant handwriting.
Ginny silently turned and left the cemetery without a glance back.
Ginny kept the note for the rest of her life. She put it folded up in a drawer, to take out and read over and over again whenever she thought she heard his voice or saw him in a crowd. And every night when she put the note away again, she thought wistfully that she hadn't turned out to be much of a Gryffindor, too afraid to ask one little question.
Many times over the years Draco thought of contacting her somehow. He never did. He should have asked her to come all those years ago. Malfoys took what they wanted. Malfoys didn't lie down and give up. But then, he wasn't a Malfoy. Not anymore.
Ginny had once said that the war had turned him into a Gryffindor. That was no longer true. He had no courage left. Not after it had abandoned him when he needed it most. He had finally gotten what he deserved. After all, he mused, cowards die alone.