Summary: Her face was concentrated on combat, her stature in battle position, defensive. Her curses were strong, powerful. How he wished he could throw away his pride and stand by her, holding her hand as they fought in battle. He didn't want to be standing by her, fighting her friends as she fought his. But he had to, didn't he?
He turned swiftly, and at that moment, the world froze. Everything around him seemed to pause, or if not pause, become incredibly gradual. The battle in Draco's eyes became slow motion, and he stopped battling whoever it was at the moment (he had lost track) long enough to get a better glimpse, for he could have sworn he saw her. That hair, that shiny, coppery, hair – it had to be hers. God, it was almost as recognizable as his hair, and that's saying something.
And then it was gone, time sped back to normalcy, and Draco was staring at nothing. Well, not nothing, per say, but it wasn't her. Draco continued to battle his foe with practiced ease even without truly paying attention. As he moved towards the direction he believed he saw her – no, knew he saw her, it must have been her – he tripped over a rock, and swore.
Just his luck, there she was, hovering over him, looking superior to him. Oh, how he missed her… he missed their nighttime flights, their kitchen raids, their explorations in the forbidden forest, sleepless nights spent talking, fucking, reading, playing chess, or just being with her. Not to say that his nights weren't sleepless as of late, because they were – just not pleasurably so.
She offered him a hand, and he hesitated to take it. She was fighting for the light; she could easily kill him. But would she? She told him that she loved him, but did she really? Did she still? His nights were now consumed by thoughts of her, his myriad of questions he wishes to ask her. He never would have thought that she didn't love him, and his biggest question was this: Could she still?
He sure as hell did, and he had never wanted things to turn out this way. He had been so naïve, to believe that he could pursue a relationship with her when his father would readily kill every last one of her kin. He never imagined that he would be in this position, staring at his love as his enemy. He bottled up his emotions, determined to fight with his father down to the very last man left alive, and spat out words that he did not want to say as he grabbed her hand.
"What the fuck are you doing here, Weasel Girl?"
"I could ask the same of you, Ferret Face."
She grimaced as she pulled him up, his loss of weight startling her. And then she was not watching him anymore, but casting curses left and right towards his allies, and all he could do was stare. How long had it been since he'd seen her? He'd left her at the end of his seventh year, choosing to prepare for battle with his father, become a death eater. Fate had destined him to be one. And here she was now, around a year later, her time in school decidedly over. Her face was concentrated on combat, her stature in battle position, defensive. Her curses were strong, powerful. How he wished he could throw away his pride and stand by her, holding her hand as they fought in battle. He didn't want to be standing by her, fighting her friends as she fought his. But he had to, didn't he?
"You know, I'm really beginning to think that I wasn't good for you. What the fuck are you doing, trying to get killed?" Ginny said, watching his blank expression as she aimed curses at more death eaters.
Draco thought for a moment that the idea of death wasn't so bad, but then he watched Ginny shake her head and continue fighting. If nothing else, her beauty was worth living for.
"And what if I am?" Draco retorted.
"Then you're more foolish than I thought," Ginny sneered.
How could he have given her up? He gave up his love for his worthless father, gave in to the pressure of his idiotic peers. He wished he could go back, make the decision that he was sure would work, it would have, wouldn't it? He had made the wrong decision, hadn't he?
"Gin." He broke, any trace of pride gone.
"What?" she asked, tone harsh, and for a brief moment he thought it ironic that here was Ginny Weasley, using his renowned skills with words, while he, Draco Malfoy, was forgetting his pride and near begging for her forgiveness.
"What?" she asked again. But he was lost for words, confusion making his brain foggy. "Are you going to just stand there and hope that you could take it all back, Draco? Wish that things between us would have worked? That you could stay loyal to your father and to me at the same time? It wouldn't have happened, Draco. Nothing would have worked. And we're better off forgetting each other, so if you'll excuse me, I have people to kill."
Her voice made him quiver, and he did the only thing he could do, which was to pull her fiercely into a fiery kiss, which she responded to eagerly. He could taste her want, if not just need. He could feel her fear, feel her hesitance, but also her love.
"Which do you choose, Draco?" Ginny asked breathlessly. "You have to pick one. You can toss aside your father's views and join me, or you can stay with him, and lose me forever. I can't leave my family, Draco, but your father is fighting for the wrong side."
The pull of loyalty in Draco's mind that he had always felt towards his father tugged at Ginny's words, and he pulled her into another heated kiss before whispering to her, "You. I love you, Gin. I wish I could pick you. But I-" Draco hesitated, looking at the atmosphere around him, "-I can't."
She tilted her head, coaxing, "You can do it, Dray. I know you can. Help me fight, for those who are trying to stop this, this pull you feel for your father, against those who continue it."
But could he?
Draco watched her, the one who would do anything, anything, but forsake her family for him. She loved him; he could tell. And he loved her more than life itself, but his father – could he just abandon him and the dark side? Of course he could. He didn't want to fight for the Dark Lord. But was this really about him? No, no, this was about her. If he fought for the Light, could he put his love and their – the thought of them was fleeting – potential children in such danger?
Draco's thoughts flew past him as time stood still around his lover and himself. He couldn't betray his father, because believe it or not, he would figure out that Draco was killing his allies, and then would find Draco. It was too risky if his father found him with Ginny. He would kill them both. No, he could not put her in such danger.
He kissed her one last time, wishing he could fuck her right then and there, but knew that it would only make things worse.
"I love you," she whispered breathlessly.
"I love you too." He returned her words, words constantly uttered so casually, but at that time were said with as much meaning as Draco could muster.
And he left her side, without any more words spoken, knowing that maybe, just maybe, he would find some way to go on, breathless as he may be.
A/N: Took me awhile to get the ending, kept trying to make it not clichéd but happy, and that didn't work too well, so here's some lovely angst for you all. Reviews are appreciated! Thanks a bunch!
[EDITED 3/2/08