AN: The product of a boring train journey this morning. Characters, as usual, do not belong to me.
It was late when Draco Malfoy finally returned to his Diagon Alley home. Far too late for visitors, which is why he was surprised to see the person sitting on his doorstep.
"I thought you hated me."
"Oh, don't worry, that hasn't changed."
The voice was colder than he remembered it, harsh and impersonal. He sighed.
"What did you come here for, then?"
"To return a few things." His visitor gestured to the cardboard box on the floor, which Draco now noticed for the first time. "And to give you this back." A small velvet box was pressed into his hand. He knew what it was without looking. The engagement ring he'd given Ginny Weasley only two months ago. How had things gone so wrong since then?
"Ginny, please don't go. Can't we… I don't know… try to sort things out?"
She laughed, mocking him. "Don't you think it's a little late for that now, Malfoy?"
Without so much as a backward glance, she walked off, heels clicking on the pavement. Draco watched until she was out of sight, then picked up the box she'd left and went inside. Knowing he'd better look through the contents, he set the box down on a table, and fetched a bottle of wine before settling down on the sofa. It was going to be a long night, he thought. Having resigned himself to that fact, he opened the box.
On the top was a photo album, filled with pictures of the two of them in happier times. Like this one of them at the beach, where Ginny was sitting on his shoulders and trying to push him under the water. She'd been wearing a green bikini – the first time she'd ever worn Slytherin colours, at least to his knowledge. It looked good on her. He, in turn, had been forced into a pair of red shorts later in the week, which he'd thought were absolutely hideous. Coming across a photo he didn't remember being taken, he realised that those shorts hadn't been all that bad.
A few pages on were the photos from Granger's wedding. She hadn't married either of the Wonder Boys in the end – she'd met someone at work and they seemed very happy. He'd danced with her at the reception, as tradition required, and they'd managed to get through that dance without one insult being thrown. Since then, their animosity had given way to a grudging respect. They'd never be friends, but it was now safe to leave them in a room together without worrying that it would get blown up, as Ginny had once remarked.
He'd danced with Ginny as well, and endured threats from a multitude of Weasleys, saying that if he ever hurt their little sister, he'd wish he hadn't survived the war. Perhaps they'd come after him now, even though Ginny had broken up with him.
There were more photos, mainly of them on holiday or at various social events. He couldn't bear to look through them just yet, and laid the album aside. Reaching for the next item, he pulled out a silk shirt that Ginny had "liberated" from his wardrobe a long time ago. This one needed no prompting – the memory was clear in his mind. They'd come back here after a night out, collapsed on the bed and fallen asleep. The next morning, Ginny realised that she had absolutely nothing to wear, since the dress she'd had on the night before wasn't fit to be seen, so she'd raided his wardrobe. Luckily, she was short enough to wear the shirt as a dress, once she'd put a belt around the middle. She'd looked so sexy in his clothes that he nearly didn't let her out of the house that day. So, he decided, if she'd returned the shirt, the belt should also be in the box. A few moments rummaging revealed that it was. Placing them on top of the photo album, he poured a glass of wine and drank it in one gulp. He was grateful his mother couldn't see him now – she'd have despaired at his lack of manners and decorum. Refilling his glass, he sipped it, slowly, working up the courage to see what else she'd decided to return.
A thick pile of envelopes, all bound together with one of those muggle… elastic bands, he thought they were called. These turned out to contain all the letters he'd sent to her during the war. The letters in which he'd declared his love and asked her to marry him. Letters that she'd replied to, and kept hidden to protect herself during the war. He might have proposed a long time ago, but he'd only recently made it formal with a ring. That reminded him, he'd put the ring in his pocket.
Opening the small box, he gazed at the ring. She hadn't wanted anything too fancy, and this had suited her perfectly. It had taken months to find, and now she'd just given it back, rejected him, as though all those years together meant nothing. Perhaps, one day, she'd explain her actions, and then someone would be able to tell him why, exactly, Ginny Weasley had left him. Until then, he'd just have to wait.
……………………
Miles away, in her childhood home, Ginevra Molly Weasley sat talking to her friend, Hermione Granger.
"I just… don't love him any more, Hermione. He seemed more like a friend than a lover. And besides, I've met someone else. Someone exciting."
Hermione shook her head, despairing at the younger witch.
"I'm not the marrying type," Ginny declared. "I need passion, excitement, adventure."
"And what you're going to get is a bunch of nasty diseases," Hermione remarked, acidly.
AN: The blue button looks lonely. Click it.