A/N: Happy Harry Potter fic that's been locked away forever. I didn't do on purpose so stop glaring at me! Hope you like :)

Unrequited Love

Ginny Weasley stepped through the doorway of her two-story mansion, cautiously shaking the water out of her umbrella so as not to get any on the expensive décor. She sighed in frustration when she noted that there were already muddy footprints leading to the dining room.

"Harry!" She yelled angrily, slamming the polka-dotted umbrella into a glass vase, which tottered alarmingly. She reached out to steady it, then, breathing heavily, stalked to the dining room. Harry stood leafing through various books, mostly of which, had to do with the Dark Arts. He didn't look up when she entered, her hands on her hips in annoyance.

"What are you doing here?" She gazed at him, hating that he was ignoring her. It had been almost six months since they had broken up, and yet here he was, acting as if he still owned the place.

Ginny went over it for the umpteenth time. A year ago, the Second War ended; they had been happy. Nine months ago, they had argued, but forgiven each other numerous times. Six months ago, they were done. Done, with the mindless arguing, done with the tears, and done with each other. Ginny knew deep down that they were still best of friends; nothing would ever change that. But she still wished he wouldn't barge in, unannounced, and usually unwelcome.

She reflected on the time, about two months ago, she came home from dinner with a date. He was a nice fellow, with good looks and the perfect amount of charm. They had planned on having some wine and talking into the late hours of the night, but of course, Harry had come on one of his many, upsetting house calls.

Ginny shuddered as she remembered the awkwardness that followed. Harry had been quite embarrassed, and a little suspicious of the man who had 'followed' Ginny home. She excused herself, and she and Harry spoke in the kitchen. He had come to talk to her about work, of all things, warning her of a new escapee of Azkaban. She had hissed that she was fine enough, with all of the security measures she had placed on the house when Harry had left, and that she already knew about the psycho killer on the loose, having worked in the same building as Harry for months.

"Well?" She fumed, ready to yank on his arm.

"Just wanted to tell you I saw your picture in the paper today." Harry glanced at her. Ginny felt the blood rush to her face as his emerald eyes burned into her.

"So?" She spat defiantly, hardly bothering to be polite. The picture had been nothing, just of her victory with the Hollyhead Harpies. It had been a grueling match, tied at two hundred, until a spectacular capture of the Snitch by her.

"I also enjoyed the article that went with it," he murmured, his eyes once again on the book in his hand, though, Ginny saw that he wasn't reading. She blushed even more fiercely at this. The article had been highly flattering, a well-thought, wonderfully written piece on her skill as 'one of the best Seekers of the Modern Age'. At the same time, it had gone over some of her personal life, including her relationship with Harry, its demise, and her eager dive into the life of a single, pretty, rich girl. The article had listed, not all but, most of the men she had dated in the short chasm between Harry and now, and she hardly cared…until Harry had seen it of course.

Refusing to let him hassle her she laughed, "I know right? I thought I depicted me rather nicely-," She trailed off at his look.

"Ginny, your chain dating is leaving scars all over your reputation." He sighed, dropping the book on the table. "Every man in a hundred mile radius is going to line up at the door in effort to get at you."

"How dare you?" Ginny was livid. "You are starting to sound way too much like Ron! I can take of myself! Surely you know that by now?" She blazed scarlet, her face rivaling her hair.

"I knew you'd say that," Harry rebuked, "I'm just worried is all."

Ginny stiffened, but her anger subsided slightly. "Well, don't," she said softly, "Stop acting like we're still a couple Harry, because we're not, and we won't ever be again."

Harry's eyes glazed, but then cleared so quickly, Ginny hardly noticed. "Harry don't-!" She cried out as he bee lined for the door, slamming it hard behind him. Tears tickled mockingly at her eyes, finally falling to the floor, dripping on the footprints her past had left on the floor.

She let out a groan and siphoned the mud away with her wand, calling for her house elf, Twixie. Normally, Ginny would have worried at the thought of having a house elf, with Hermione Granger as a friend. But Hermione attested that having an elf was fine, so long as it was given fair wages, benefits, and vacation. So Twixie got three galleons a week, sick pay, and every weekend off, as well as all the holidays.

The little elf appeared with a small crack and squeaked a welcome. "Twixie is sorry Miss, but Mr. Potter wished to see you and it's hard for Twixie to refuse him!" Ginny knelt down to face Twixie and assured her everything was all right. "It doesn't matter Twix," Ginny replied, using her nickname for the creature, "Did I get any owls today?" She asked, changing the subject quickly.

"Oh, yes, Miss Ginny," the elf grabbed her hand and escorted her excitedly to the extravagant office in which Ginny worked on her Quidditch articles, "I believe you got some fan letters!" Ginny smiled at the elf's elation. Twixie was always so happy to hear of Ginny's success with the wizarding world.

When they reached the office, Ginny's eyes fell on her desk teeming with all the work to be done. Ah, well, I'll get to it sooner or later. Ginny grimaced as she imagined Harry's laughter regarding her lack of organization skills.

"Here it is Miss Ginny!" Twixie handed over an envelope with thin, spiraling cursive etched on the front. The ink was a startling green color that flashed silver in the light. Ginny felt much happier now, already picturing the words of encouragement most likely written on the parchment within. She could tell that it wasn't hate mail, the writing on the outside wouldn't have been so delicate, or light-hearted if it were.

"Thank you Twix, you can have the night off, I'll tell you about the letter later." Twixie curtsied and skipped merrily from the room. Ginny took to studying the letter more carefully. She frowned when she noticed no inclination of who sent it. Usually ecstatic fans wrote their names in the top corners, much like Muggles, so Ginny could recognize them right way.

Eye narrowed, she tore at the envelope, pulling out the leaf of paper. It was written in the same exquisite handwriting, and she found herself appreciating the evident care with which the writer artistically displayed his words.

Slowly, she began to read.

Dear Ginny,

I saw your picture in the paper today girl

All of a sudden it hit me

You're someone that should know me

Possibly drive me crazy

In the pages and all over the magazine covers

People gossip about you and your long list of lovers

(You don't) Girl you don't know about me

But you will, that's for sure,

Let's start with an introduction!

I want you to know my name

Take a little sip with some conversation

It's driving me insane

What's it gonna take for some motivation?

I want you to know my name

Girl I just ain't got no shame

Them other guys causing you pain

I'll show you that I'm not the same

Not the same

I swear to you I'm not the same

Yours truly,

Draco Malfoy

Ginny stared, uncomprehending for a moment, at the signature shining at her like some sort of grotesque light show. She had had the strongest urge to laugh while reading the letter, but now all she wanted to do was vomit.

Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy was writing fan mail to her. Ginny Weasley. Is this some sort of sick joke? She had half a mind to contact Ron or Hermione and ask them what the deal was. But they wouldn't do something like this. And the worst part of it was that it seemed to be a whole lot more…intimate than the average fanatic. Cheesy, yes, with it's use of a Muggle song Ginny had once thought was quite catchy. Now it was disturbing, and quite frankly, wrong.

Ginny blinked slowly, hoping without much conviction that it was only a trick of the light. When it fully registered that it was in fact Malfoy writing a sick and twisted love note, unadulterated rage boiled through her being.

"How dare that arrogant, spoiled, ferret write to me?" She screamed to the empty office. "Using a Muggle song of all things! Serenading me through lies!" Because of course it was all lies. Malfoy wouldn't even begin to soil his pureblooded name with Muggle nonsense. Malfoy wouldn't be professing a false change of heart, no matter the bet. And Malfoy would most certainly not be contacting her, a blood traitor, allegedly begging for her to, what was it? Oh yes, "Know my name".

Oh, she knew his name all right. She only heard it enunciated every day at the Ministry. Malfoy this, Malfoy that…It was enraging!

Ginny's teeth ground together as she searched for a spare quill and parchment. Write to me indeed…after all the hell…a school yard bully is all…stupid ferret. She closed her eyes and sighed, working hard to soothe her jumbled thoughts. And then, she began to write.

Dear Ferret,

I don't know who you think you are, writing to me. I have no wish to reintroduce myself to your pathetic existence. You are a waste of space, nothing more. I don't know what the bloody hell you are playing at, but do not contact me again. If you do, you'll be sorry. You think you're so great. I can hear your condescending smirk though the parchment, you arse! Furthermore, you're giving yourself false hope in thinking I'll write back, positively giddy at the prospect of a date with you; it's so sad. Huh. At least, now I know Harry was right. If this is the kind of attention I'll be getting for that dumb article, than I won't be signing up for anymore anytime soon!

Leave me be!

Miss Weasley (To you)

She snorted disdainfully at her work, and stuffed it in the nearest envelope. She looked around and spotted Pigwidgeon fluttering about the ceiling, hysterical at the thought of a delivery. Ron had let her keep him, thoroughly annoyed with the creature.

"Pig," she smiled as the tiny owl zoomed to her side, "I want you to take this to Mr. Draco Malfoy. Be sure to get it to him directly, not an elf, and" she added with a sadistic grin, "be sure to peck his fingers until that pure blood flows."

Pig hooted in understanding, and Ginny could have sworn she heard laughter admitting from his miniscule beak. After making sure the owl made it safely outside, Ginny yawned and stretched. It was time for a good night's sleep after all the excitement of the day.

Ginny awoke the next morning, her mind clear of last night's events. After showering and eating a wonderful breakfast prepared by Twixie, she carried on her way to the Ministry, not at all anticipating what lie on her desk, covered in silvery-green.

When she arrived, Ginny was immediately bombarded with co-workers and higher-ups, demanding deadlines, advice, assistance, and the pleasure of her company at lunch. After disappointing some and pleasing others, she collapsed into her chair and began sorting her mail. Her eyes widened and then narrowed in about the space of two seconds.

There sitting on the very bottom of the pile was another envelope plastered with the handsome writing. Inhaling sharply, Ginny tore it open and read the letter.

Dearest Ginny,

It honestly hurt me that you would say all those horrible things. And your little owl was equally offensive. I have bandages all over my fingers; I never knew you were so vindictive! A fiery redhead, yes, but hardly sardonic. I'm sorry you found my letter so horrifying, but I could find no other way in which to express my deepest feelings. I have in fact changed, and I found the Muggle song quite charming. Besides, it wasn't just the article; it only served as a reminder of how kind you are. I have taken extreme interest in all of the charity work you do, and I find it very awe-inspiring. You must understand, I wished no you no duress, I only hoped you would sense the truth in my words. I think you have become a beautiful young woman, and you can't blame me for being interested. With that being said, would you care to go to dinner with me? Say this Friday evening? I only bring this up because, well,

I've got this question I keep asking myself

Are you my cure for addiction, are you love's definition

Or just bad for my health?

There's only one way to find out

What we need is each other

Make our own little story

We could start it today

I want you to know my name

Take a little sip with some conversation

It's driving me insane

What's it gonna take for some motivation?

I want you to know my name

Girl I just ain't got no shame

Them other guys causing you pain

I'll show you that I'm not the same

Love You Too,

Draco Malfoy

"Son of a bi-!"

"Miss Weasley!" Ginny stopped mid-break down and stared. Her assistant, Charles, was standing opened mouthed at the door. She also noticed, that at some point during the reading, she had ended up on her feet. She sat down and smoothed her hair.

"I'm sorry Charlie, what is it?"

Charles laughed nervously and mumbled, "Bad news ma'am?" He nodded at the letter, and Ginny blanched.

"Yes, the worst kind."

"A death in the family?" Charles asked alarmed.

"No," Ginny moaned, "love."

Charles choked. "But surely that's reason to celebrate?" He gasped, barely containing his laughter.

Ginny glared at him. "Charlie, if you have no reason being here, I suggest you leave." She was in no mood to banter.

"Of course ma'am," Charlie panted, "It's just that another interviewer is here and-,"

"NO!" Ginny covered her mouth with her hand at the outburst. "I mean I'm not feeling well enough for another one, tell them to reschedule."

Charlie nodded and left the room, no doubt breathing a sigh of relief.

Ginny stood on shaky legs and closed the door. She put up a sign bearing the words "Busy: Work in Progress, Do Not Disturb" hoping for no distractions while she wrote out a certain someone's death certificate.

She sat, contemplating the various threats playing tag in her head. Then, she composed her second letter of the week.

Malfoy,

You have since crossed the line from annoying jokester to crazy stalker. Back away now, or I'll set the Aurors on you. As flattering as it may be to refer to me as "Love's definition", it's still creepy, and I'd appreciate it if you discontinued your unsuccessful attempts to woo me. Besides. What's with all the repetition? And don't take that as an excuse to write to me, I just enjoy pointing out the stupidity coating these detestable notes. And where do you get off talking about "Guys causing me pain"? If anything, I sent those losers home crying to their mothers. Finally, there is no way in hell I'd ever "make a story with you"…there very thought makes me want to leap off the roof over my head.

Never-to-Be Yours,

Miss Weasley

Ginny smirked and sealed the envelope. Borrowing one of the ministry owls, she sent the note, praying it would get through Malfoy's thick skull.

"Ginny, might I have a word?" Harry's soft voice roused her from her daydream.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, sure." They entered her office and sat down, she in a business-like manner, he in a grief-stricken, ex-boyfriend manner.

"What is it?" She decided to get it out in the open. She wasn't about to waste time in another argument.

"I miss you."

Three words. And yet they slashed at her heart.

"Harry, we've been through this, it's over."

"But I lo-,"

Ginny held up a hand, tears cascading down her face. Why are you doing this to me? Just leave me alone!

"Ginny, ever since that article, I've remember what it is exactly, that I had the audacity to leave behind. You are amazing and I can't live without you!"

The words were so close to Malfoy's, Ginny almost squeaked in surprise. "Just now figuring that out now are you?" The bitterness in her voice made him wince.

"I thought you'd come crawling back to me." He supposed coldly.

Ginny twitched at the change in him. "Yeah, well you thought wrong."

He stood and left. Always afraid of confrontation Ginny reflected harshly. She got up and followed him.

What followed would indefinitely go down as one of the most vicious arguments in the history of the Ministry of Magic. Such insults and screaming, of which had never resonated through the ancient halls, startled many workers, even pulling tears from some of them. It all was as warped and emotion-filled as a movie. When it finally ended, Ginny had to be escorted home, having been deemed 'unfit to continue working' today.

When Ginny made it home, she flew to her room and threw herself on the bed, crying until she fell into the sweet embrace of slumber.

"I hate him."

"Oh, Miss, don't say that!"

"No, I mean it, he's the foulest, most horrible person I know."

Twixie sighed sadly as Ginny dismissed her. Poor Miss, doesn't know what she's saying.

Ginny sat in her bed, refusing to move. She had been there for two days so far, accepting no visits or letters from work. She hated to admit it, but she was starting to miss yelling at people. If only one of Malfoy's letters were around…Just as she said this, her eyes fell on a packet of paper…the writing a silver sheen.

She leapt up and ran to the bookcase. It lay, perched on top as if it had just fallen there. She cautiously climbed upward. Taking it gently between her fingers, she descended.

"Miss Ginny!"

Ginny screamed and slipped on the last shelf, falling painfully on her backside. "Holy! OUCH!" She hissed in pain as she stood, her bottom sore and bruising.

"I is sorry!" The elf ran to her side and helped her sit down.

"It's okay, really!" Ginny persuaded Twixie to leave, and promised her she could come back in a few minutes. The elf was loath to agree, until she noticed the letter.

Ginny ripped the letter open like an excited child at Christmas and read:

My poor Ginny,

I'm so sorry about what happened at the Ministry. I hope you are feeling better love. I was all set to write about how Potter was one of those "losers" you sent away, but I don't think you need any reminding of that fool.

Ginny laughed, much to her own surprise, feeling comforted by Malfoy's words.

To answer your question about the repetition; I was merely trying to get my point across. Having spent my time studying poetry and song, I have noticed the most persuasive have much repetition. And why not make a story with me? I could give you anything.

This is how it's gonna look, just like this

You and me pretty girl and a future of bliss

You want a dog, white fence, maybe couple of kids

Anything I'm a bring you just make me a list

I promise I can make you smile, oh

I swear that I will be worth your while

All I wanna do is know you

I want you to know my name

Tanke a little sip with some conversation

It's driving me insane

What's it gonna take for some motivation?

I want you to know my name

Girl I just ain't got no shame

Them other guys causing you pain

I swear to you I'm no the same

Loving you,

Draco Malfoy

Ginny finished the letter laughing. She quickly wrote a response.

Dear Malfoy,

I found you latest letter very tempting. Anything I want huh? Taken to bribery now, I see. Well, you'll have to think of a few more lines like that. But, you see, there's the whole trusting you aspect, the thing is, I don't. I don't know how you'll make amends in that category, but I'm sure you'll stop at nothing right? Reading the repeated parts makes me realize that you do have no shame. Don't you have a girlfriend? You are so impossible; I don't know what to think…you're still a horrid jerk to me. You're way too cocky…

Laughing at Your Foolishness,

Ginny

Pigwidgeon dropped to Ginny's shoulder. He carried an envelope. It had been three weeks since Malfoy's last letter and it was driving Ginny mad. She clawed at it so forcefully it almost tore in two.

Dear Ginny,

Sorry about the lack of writing, I recently broke up with my girlfriend…having read your letter…and I found myself needing a restraining order. I hope to make amends by taking you out to dinner on Thursday. How about it?

I want you to know my name

Take a little sip with some conversation

It's driving me insane

What's it gonna take for some motivation?

I want you to know my name

Girl I just ain't got no shame

Them other guys causing you pain

I'll show you (I swear) that I'm no the same

I swear to ya

I'll show you that I'm not the same

I swear to ya

I must be getting somewhere; you wouldn't have signed your name 'Ginny' otherwise. I'll await your owl.

Your Lover,

Draco Malfoy

Crap! I signed it Ginny? What the hell was I thinking? Where is my sense these days?

Dear Malfoy,

Please don't think my signature as being one step closer; I wasn't myself that day. And I hope you didn't just break up with her on my account. It's dumb because, now, you have no one. You certainly don't have me. So, I'll have to decline your offer to dinner…

Close but no Cigar,

Miss Weasley

Ginny was standing at the stove, preparing some dinner, thinking about the past few months. They had been outrageously hard on her, but she was enjoying the newfound freedom that had been brought in the long run. Harry no longer contacted her, nor did he show up unannounced every week or so. In fact, the only thing that bothered Ginny as of late was the lack of writing from Malfoy. She hated to admit it, but she missed the predictability of it. He would say something witty and charming, and she would throw it back in his face. It was a love-hate relationship, but lately Ginny had been feeling less hate and more…curiosity.

Would it be so bad? Trying a date with the Ferret? Ginny contemplated this often these days. But she refused to write to him. She would make him come to her. It was how she functioned; she had always hated the pointless drama girls in her House at Hogwarts always cooked up. Idle dates aren't worth the stress…she'd often spit at anyone who'd try to dissuade her.

She was frowning slightly now. Maybe she should have tried harder at school to be more social. The bout at the end of her sixth year had been nothing short of a phase. Right now, it wouldn't hurt to have someone to hold her close. Just as she thought this, Pigwidgeon appeared and dropped a letter onto her head. Ginny slowly picked it up and read the lettering. It was silvery green.

Dearest love,

Not the same…

Waiting for You,

Draco Malfoy

Ginny smiled coyly.

Dear Draco,

My place. Tomorrow. Five o'clock pm

Finally Yours,

Ginny