Waiting

disclaimer: i don't own anything you recognize, unless it's a line from one of my other fics (i have a tendency to do that). all the rest belongs to JKR, and if it's something other than that, hell, i dont take credit for it. :]

plot: a bit of a scene before the War, when Draco and the rest leave Ginny behind, and bits and pieces like that. Kind of sad, kind of fluffy. Harmless, happy, and sugary sweet. Don't worry. I don't believe in unhappy endings.

The dawn was breaking.

The sunlight was slow as it pressed through the clouds, but no one seemed to notice the sky. They were staring at the horizon, the dark world they would conquer. They had to.

The line was long, the group separated hesitantly by assorted teachers and assistants, all giving words of encouragement or straightening robes, giving last minute tips and pointers. They'd only opened the doors slightly, as if to give a final glimpse of what they had been so cowardly watching, but already the room's noise level had lowered by decibels, and the sniffling and terrified cries were heard. Even in the silence it was deafening, and the seventh years stood strong with their chins up, holding back tears.

Draco Malfoy was one of those, his eyes closed against the sunlight, his lips pursed tight. He could see fleeting, flashing images behind his lids, and he burned them there, each and every one, making them a slideshow for only his pleasure on the days he would need it to survive. He didn't know why he was fighting for them. But he knew it would make his father angry, so he would. Screw morals, now. This was about revenge. This was about saving those you cared for. This was, he realized, about her.

Colin squeezed her shoulders and it was awkward, for him being so small and her being taller than he, for him to comfort her. She hadn't let a tear slip yet, but he could see it in her eyes, the pain there. The torment. The grief she would undergo, and maybe, he reasoned, the pride that had been broken. She'd be empty, soon, a carcass that housed only a lost, halved soul.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione were standing in the line, exchanging uneasy encouraging glances, trying to keep themselves from staring at the door. That was the hardest part, they reasoned, trying to turn it into something else, something easier. Trying to forget exactly what it was they were going to do.

They were pushing the younger students back, now, back into the Great Hall where they would sit and have lunch, and then go back to their classes, going on as if nothing had ever happened. McGonagall had been pressing them back through the doors, careful of the tears and spills, and had been turning Ginny Weasley around to face the Hall when she suddenly broke free, running across the space of the entrance hall.

Ron turned his head as she cried out, just a strangled noise, and pursed his lips. She'd been ready to fly right past him, when his hand held her elbow. And he was hugging her.

"Ginny, it's okay. We'll be fine, no need to fret," he whispered, but she was pushing at his chest, the sobs bubbling at her lips.

"I have no doubt, Ronald. Let me go. I have to say goodbye," she whispered back, and he let her go out of shock and curiosity, letting her stumble back.

"To who?" he said, but she wasn't listening; she had turned away from the three of them and continued on down the line, her steps slowing as the entire line and the rest of the students watched in wonder. Black toes met black toes, dark caramel met silver. She pursed her lips.

"That wasn't well enough of a goodbye. Paper can't say everything," she managed casually through the emotion in her voice, and his long, drawn face saddened, emotion shining through the fissures of his now-broken defense.

"I want to hear it from you, Draco."

Down the line, Ron blanched.

"She called him Draco," he whispered, but everyone ignored him, focused on the unfolding scene.

"Ginny," he murmured, reaching out to touch her face, push her hair behind her ear, and she let him, closing her eyes. Then she opened them, wide chocolate searching openly. She tilted her head and averted her eyes, bringing her hands up to adjust a fold in his cloak.

"It's going to suck when you're gone," she said, that same casual tone returning, masking the hurt.

He gave her a small smile, an upturn of the corner of his mouth.

"Of course it will. I made everything fun for you," he said, and she smiled. Then she bit her lip, and her fingers trembled.

"Draco, I'm going to miss you," she whispered. "You can't die."

He brought his other hand up to her face, brushing away tears, his vision blurry. He blinked them back eagerly.

"I won't die," he assured her. "I have to live long enough for you to have my babies."

"You might," she reasoned, looking up at him, a twinge of humor in her eyes. "But if you don't, I promise I'll have as many of your babies as you want."

He grinned sadly, before his face sobered the tiniest bit.

"If I die, it'll be for you, Gin-girl."

The tears flowed freely, and her face twisted in confused emotion.

"You would die for me?" she whispered, and in the silence it was loud and clear. He brought her hand to his lips and kissed each fingertip, letting his lips linger on every one.

"Of course."

"Why?"

He kissed her thumb, and brought her hand to his cheek.

"Because I love you, Weasley, you daft witch," he whispered harshly, his voice forcing it out, tired of being restrained.

And then she was crying. He had his arms around her, pulling her close, and he was kissing her as she was kissing back; there were tears and they were both touching, their bodies were pressed, and it was one last piece of heaven, a piece he felt he'd never feel again. McGonagall hadn't the heart to break it up, but the doors were open wide and the rising sun on the horizon had never turned the sky redder.

Awkwardly, the new soldiers shifted forward, careful to watch over their shoulders as they approached new life, glimpsing the scene that would change their views, perhaps, on some parts of life. On love, too, maybe. Definitely, from Ron's angle, but even as his mind screamed, "Mum's going to be so pissed about this!" he knew he'd never say anything, because Ginny could handle it. By the looks of it, she was handling a lot.

He felt a twinge inside, and Hermione squeezed his hand comfortingly. Harry had never looked so baffled in his life, and it made them chuckle uneasily, watching the unfolding sight. Her rebellious behavior had started a small riot, and younger girls and boys alike rushed to their loves, brushing faces with shaking hands, committing memories that would keep them alive in their darkest hours.

Ginny rested her forehead against his, touching his hair, his ears, his shoulders, her hands flighty and trembling as she tried to pry them away from him. At last, he grabbed her wrists when her fingers met his hands, bringing them both to his chest as he pulled her tightly to him.

The last kiss was searing on her mouth. The tension behind his lips, the buildup of so many words he didn't have time to say, was firm and promising. It was frantic and silent, his lips taking hers in a way that made her recall all the times he'd taken her before. The blush was barely noticeable, but it wasn't the memories she was thinking of. It was his eyes, closed before her, his face, open to emotion, and this final kiss, reminding her that the reason he was leaving was to set everything right.

The moment, which had seemed like eternity, ended when she heard another sixth year girl down the line cry out as McGonagall wrenched her away from a tall, skinny, blonde haired boy. Everyone's movements were hurried, final; even Ginny had a look of defeat on her face as he finally lifted his head from hers, pausing for the briefest second to breathe deeply of her hair.

He released her wrists gently, grabbing her hands tightly in his own for a split second, kissing them.

"I love you, Ginevra," he whispered. "Don't give up."

This was the final goodbye, she registered, as the old woman neared her, hands up, expecting a fight. Ginny, however, felt all strength leave her, all will to fight gone. She allowed herself to be pulled away after she touched Draco's face one last time, furiously blinking away her tears to see his face before she couldn't anymore.

He didn't blink as she was ushered behind the wooden doors. The cacophony she had started drowned out his words, even her thoughts, as she had no more to say. She could only stand, so still as she was jostled by classmates, locking his sorrowful gaze as the doors closed.

The years passed like centuries. The fireworks were colorful and loud in the dark sky, spelling out encouraging words and sympathetic phrases. There was laughing and screaming about her as 'pop's began to fill the air; she rushed downstairs, out into the yard, right into the center of the madness. Redheaded figures scooped her up and twirled her about; she recognized each, her father, her brothers, even her mother hugged her, weeping openly.

She spotted Harry and Hermione embracing on the outskirts of the chaos, and hurriedly tried to approach them, attempting to avoid sudden capture from her family.

"Where's Draco?" she whispered, but no one heard her, and she was brought into another embrace.

Charlie picked her up and spun her once, squeezing her tightly.

"I'm so glad you're home. Where's Draco?" she demanded, her voice shaking.

Charlie put her down and brushed her hair from her face, a worried look in his eye. His mouth opened and closed, like a fish, but before he could answer, Molly had his elbow in her hand, and was steering him toward the kitchen as she wiped happy tears from her eyes.

" - all I've got right now is bangers and mash, but I'm sure you'll find it just delicious after what you've been having to eat! Unscathed, the lot of you, I couldn't have asked for a bigger miracle, thank Merlin you're all right!"

Ginny felt the wetness on her cheeks before she noticed it.

Where was he? She was positive that he was alright, her heart told her so… yet, she knew that when he returned, he was going to return here. She counted their heads as they walked in the door; yes, this was his camp. Where was he? Was he hurt? Was there anything she could do? Why wouldn't anyone talk to her?

Hermione, the last to enter the house, shook her head in sympathy.

"Ginny," she called out, as gently as she could, "Why don't you come inside? There's no reason to be standing out here alone. Come on, it's getting chilly."

Indeed, the night air was becoming stiff and it burned her cheeks, but her heart breaking in her chest kept the blood flowing through her bones in outrage and distress.

"No reason?" she whispered, but Hermione had already gone, and the din inside had settled down into a quiet murmuring.

The sobs wracked her body. She didn't try to contain them; her cries were loud and heckling as they echoed back to her, but she was deaf to them, deaf to every word except the ones resounding in her head.

No reason.

She couldn't even bring herself to contemplate the conclusion. She could feel her heart crumbling into millions of tiny pieces, bleeding out her chest. Her lungs ached as she fell to her knees, her head in her hands, but the faces in the window made no move to console her. They clucked their tongues in silence, whispering to one another.

"Draco," she sobbed. "Oh, God, Draco."

Suddenly, she felt hands on her elbows, urging her up off her knees. She didn't turn, for fear it was a stranger; her mother had warned her of angry Death Eaters, furious that their Lord had been taken, looking for revenge.

She couldn't move. Even her hiccups seemed to die in her throat; all she was capable of was the weak intake and expelling of air, suddenly freezing to her still body.

"I want to live in a house like this," a voice murmured in her ear, and her body seized in surprise; she spun immediately on her heel, disregarding his tangled hands as she launched herself into his arms.

"I thought you were dead!" she cried, burying her face into his neck as his laughter shook the both of them. He wound his hands in her long hair, brushing his hands down her back, before drawing her away.

"I told you not to give up on me, Ginevra," he reprimanded, but the twinkle in his eye belied his scolding.

"But they all - and you were - Hermione said - " she stammered, eyes wide in disbelief as she touched his face, the thought echoing around her. He had returned. The joy overtook her in waves, and she hugged tighter, kissing all over his face with exuberance.

"That damn girl. She never had much faith in me, after all this time." He sighed. "She should've known it would take a bloke a bit longer to walk from the check point than to just poof here."

She pulled her face away, unable to disconnect their limbs. She could feel his heartbeat beneath his worn shirt and recognized the happiness in his eyes, for they mirrored her own.

"Lost my wand," he mumbled sheepishly, and she laughed, brushing her hands against his chest.

"This is the happiest moment I've had in such a very long time, Draco," she whispered, and it felt good on her lips, his name. He grinned lopsidedly and kissed the corner of her mouth, then her jaw, drawing her closer.

"I can imagine more. Now, I hate to cut this reunion short, love, but I've been in the chill long enough. Let's go inside so I can warm up a bit for you. Cold makes a man's performance weak," he informed her nonchalantly, as if he'd never left in the first place. Her insides spun in happiness as she saw the old Draco peek through.

"Performance?" she quipped, her eyebrow raising as he wiped away her tears. "It's been ten minutes, and you're already on about 'performance'?"

He buried his face in her neck, inhaling deeply as he bit gently beneath her ear. When his head raised, she could feel his breath in her ear, hot and amazing. Shivers cascaded down her spine.

"You promised me babies," he murmured huskily, and she threw her head back and laughed.

Ah, well, there you have it. Once again, if there are any typos, I reckon I'm to blame. I wish they made robotic betas... which is not the same as spell check, mind you.

Anyway. Please review :] it gives me hope. I'm thinking about joining the Review Revolution and whatnot, if that's even what it is. It seems like a spiffy idea.