So I know some of you are waiting are waiting for the next update of The Silver Dragon, and I promise! It's coming! However, I was having a bit of trouble writing what needs to be written for that, so I decided to clear my head with this little one-shot. I haven't ever done anything like it, so please let me know if it's any good! It kinda just came out... Like... I'm not usually a Drinny shipper, but this just happened, so there goes that.
Anyways. Let me know what you think, and sorry if it's sorta everywhere! This was really just a quickly written, mind clearer... So yeah.. Anyways. Love you all!
Disclaimer: Nope.. just nope...
He was beautiful. She didn't mean to intrude, but as she was sneaking her way back into the castle, from a much needed secret walk through the forbidden forest, she had heard a very soft whimpering coming from an old classroom. Curiosity took over and she came across the most beautiful sight she had ever seen.
The moonlight reflected across his white-blond hair, creating a glow around him, causing him to look like a fallen angel; shrouded in black but illuminated by his halo. He was crying so silently that, if one of his tears hadn't reflected like a crystal being struck by a moonbeam, she wouldn't have even noticed. She knew she should have turned away, gone to bed, avoided the entire situation like the dragon pox, but she couldn't. Seeing him expending so much emotion made her breath catch in her own throat. The war affected everyone, including those on the wrong side.
Forgetting that, despite he was silent, he could hear, the redhead let out shaky breath and walked further into the classroom, his silent sobs causing Ginny's own eyes to well up and her heart to ache. He, of course, noticed the sound and turned around with such speed that Ginny barely even noticed it. However, she noticed when he spelled the door behind her to shut and ran over to her, pushing her up against the newly locked door with enough force to knock the breath out of her.
"Blood traitor" he snarled, harshly gripping both of her wrists and forcing them above her head, holding them in place with a single hand, his other hand holding his wand up against her throat, his hold so tight that Ginny feared the wood would snap.
"Death Eater" she sneered back, the hate that she had forgotten returning with a renewed force. Keeping eye contact, however, with tear marks still streaking his face, the hate faded slightly. She saw exactly what she felt: fear, anger, and restlessness. It was the war. She could tell. For some reason, she thought everything had bounced off of him, or had made him happy, but seeing him flinch, just barely, at the name Death Eater, she realized it probably affected him far more than she could ever realize. At least Ginny was fighting for a side she believed in. But now, she had reason to believe that maybe the boy was forced to fight for something he hated.
"Tell me what you just saw" he growled, the weakness he may have shown earlier disappearing from his face and body language. Ginny sucked in a sharp breath, unsure how to respond, and even more unsure of how he would respond to anything she said. Keeping eye contact, she gave a quick jerk in attempts to free her hands. Failing to get away from him, she stilled and set her jaw before answering his question with a soft whisper.
"You"
The moment the word left her lips, he attacked them with his own, nipping, pushing, and completely covering hers. Her eyes flew open wide, his reaction not having occurred to her at all, and she stood, completely rigid. He growled at her unresponsiveness, biting at her lower lip, and an unexpected fire coursed through her veins. She attacked back with such viciousness that it rivaled his own desperation. The grip on her wrists tightened, though he dropped his wand, the object making a small racket on the ground as it fell, and his free hand came to a rest at the juncture between her shoulder and neck, fingers harshly twirling around her fire-red hair. The action caused Ginny to let out a small yelp, which the boy seemed to swallow with a harsh need. He pushed up against her; she pushed back.
Harshly, he began biting his way down her neck, both of his hands forgetting what they had been doing, in order to slip under her shirt to grip her waist roughly. Her hands slipped down the wood behind her, coming at a rest beside her head, as all thoughts fleeted both of their minds.
The war affected everyone, and during the year, leading up to the final battle, everyone needed a way to escape their fear, anger, and restlessness, and it looks like this particular seventh year Slytherin and sixth year Gryffindor found their escape in each other.
