She never meant to fall in love with him. Harry was the one who held her heart from the moment she was laid eyes on him, yes at eleven she was hopelessly devoted to a boy she barely knew and could hardly keep a conversation with. She looked out the window red curls falling on her face, causing a chain reaction of a disgraceful itch and scratch.
She hoped he hadn't seen. She was sure he hadn't, his eyes we're always closed when playing his viola and he never looked up at the tower. It seemed strange, how this changed their dynamic, she was now the one looking down at him while he stood beneath her and yet she was still under his will.
The snow falling would eventually make it too cold to play outside despite the heating charms he could put in place and Ginny would be heartbroken until next week when she would find him again, in the same courtyard playing his strings like he played her heart, eyes closed and all.
The glass soon fogged up and covered the audience of one from seeing the performer. She sighed, and picked up her bag, maybe next week she would be braver and sit in the courtyard and actually get to hear the music instead of just look at it be softly played from a distance. She hurried down the spiral stairs so fast she didn't notice she almost ran into who she was admiring.
"Watch where you're going Weasley," Draco said calmly as her books and quills, ink, and parchment flew everywhere. "Immobulous!" he shouted and started grabbing her things from the air.
"Thank you, I'm so sorry. I was watching you play and I realized it was getting late and…" she continued as she grabbed a book out of the air before being cut off by his sharp tongue
"What were you doing watching me play?" He demanded stopping his efforts to help until he received and answer which would most likely come out sooner rather than later. This Weasley maybe stubborn and futile but she was also enamored with him and he knew it the minute he saw her crash into him, and they way she described watching him play.
"I don't have to justify my actions to you Draco." She said, putting the last of her contents back in her face nary an ink drop spilt thanks to him. She turned to walk away without so much of a thank you, her mother would be conflicted on one hand it was poor manners on the other he was a malfoy.
He smirked, "Come hear me play next week then, Weasley, I'd rather not have a stalker."
On her way back to the commons room she couldn't stop blushing after her encounter with Malfoy. She practically floated on the way back to the common room. It didn't matter she had to change staircases multiple times. She was still enthralled after his performance dreaming of next week when he would play for her. Her face was redder than her hair as she day dreamed about her make believe lover and their pretend conversations. She might finally have someone to talk to, after all these years. Maybe it was best not to pin her hopes of relief on Draco alone though. McGonagall always told her to share with a small number of friends, but she only wanted one sole confidant.
Hermione tried to be there for her after the chamber of secrets, but that was a hard year for everyone. And no one made the cut, but now, three years later maybe someone would. As she entered the common room she saw the trio studying and she began to blush furiously, seeing Harry with his black hair mussed and his slightly crooked glasses as he undoubtedly study Defense Against the Dark Arts. The Order was counting on him, she was counting on him and before she realized old feelings were stirring and she was confused all over again over which boy was her heart's desire.
She shook her head trying to clear her thoughts and eventually went to her room. She did her homework and waited for the coin to heat up so that she might find a relief from her mind. It stayed cold and there would be no meeting tonight, unfortunately. But for herself she had the treat of watching the harsh hands of a Malfoy play the delicate strings into a poem of music that she could only dream of hearing one day, and soon.
She couldn't deny how excited she was, she was done denying it to herself. Malfoy represented possibility, something she hadn't had in a long time. He was mysterious, a puzzle to solve, and yes a potential love interest. Who was she kidding though, she was a Weasley and he was a well, a Malfoy! Separate families feuding over the idea of pureblood and the meaning it should have. Maybe she could show him what it was like to not just limit yourself to an elitist group of snobbery.
Why was she dreaming of friendship and change when all he did today was bark at her and call her a stalker. Maybe it's because she secretly was thrilled that the most sought after suave, sophisticated, Boy in the year above her paid attention and no one really did that. No one saved her a seat in class, she sat with her brother and his friends at meal times, and when push came to shove she was always last. But for the first time maybe she wouldn't be last. Not to Cho, not in the family, and maybe not to Draco.
It was a silly idea of a silly girl who just wanted attention, who screamed at night whose waking nightmare was a blank book with ink near it. But it was a comforting thought to Ginny as she fell asleep
dreaming of better days to come with happier times and maybe finally pushing through her past without doing it alone.