Part Three - March 2001
"The both of you need an outlet, some way to talk about the parts that you can't talk to me about. I do think you could both benefit from this."
"But-"
"I do really believe it would be good for both of you. Why don't I set it up on a trial basis? If you don't think it's helped at all by the end of April, we can pitch the idea and go back to regular therapy."
Scott's idea sounded more than a little strange to her. He'd called it partner therapy, where the two of them were supposed to talk to each other while doing things together, and record their thoughts in journals. She'd never heard of partner therapy before, but then again she'd never really looked into therapy before moving out of her childhood home. And had that really been that long ago?
She was determined to try, despite feeling ill at ease, if for no other reason than Malfoy wanted to try it.
Scott had promised the both of them that they would still meet for their one on one appointments, and they were still welcome to group. So she knew that if anything came up that made her incredibly uncomfortable, she had an outlet that hopefully wouldn't have her breaking down or blowing up.
It still made her uneasy, the prospect of therapy with Malfoy. He could go on and tell anyone about her issues without consequence to himself, while she already knew she could never do that to him in return.
She didn't know him, not really.
xXx
It wasn't until after group the next week that they started. Scott had handed them each a thin leather journal and instructed them to write down everything they felt as soon as they left each time they met.
And then he assigned their homework.
"Now, I encourage both of you to meet at least once a week. I've got the weeks charted out for you, and after group every week, I will have a new assignment for you both. This week, I'd like the two of you to enjoy a meal out together."
"You want us to go out to eat together?" she asked, confused.
"A restaurant is a good, neutral place. Choosing the place and the food itself will give you topics to start from. I won't be present, and for this assignment I won't have anything specific I think you should discuss. You need to get comfortable around each other if this-or group-is ever going to make a difference in your mental health."
There were so many possible issues with that, but she couldn't voice any of them. Scott wouldn't understand.
Malfoy might.
"Why don't the two of you choose a night you're both available, and discuss times? I will finish closing up the group therapy room in the meantime."
And with that, Scott left the two of them in his office alone.
Neither one of them spoke for several minutes. The tension in the room was palpable.
But eventually, Ginny chose to speak.
"I'm not exactly... I mean..."
"Saturday night, 8:00? Meet at the diner, and pick from there?" There was a slight lilt to his lips when she looked at him.
"Alright. See you then?"
xXx
The week progressed.
On Saturday afternoon, after a rather hard practice, Ginny was in Diagon Alley. The entire place was covered in shades of green, a not so subtle nod to the holiday.
The holiday she'd managed to completely forget about.
She'd had plans to meet her brothers for a late lunch for nearly two weeks, after the disaster that was Ron's birthday party on the night of the 1st. She still wasn't sure how Harry had ended up making out with Lavender on Ron's bed, and for that matter how Lavender had ended up invited in the first place.
She hadn't spent a lot of time alone in Diagon Alley in the past year, choosing instead to join either of her parents on a shopping trip, or going once or twice with one of her brothers.
She hated seeing all the reminders of their closeted world, which still haunted her nightmares.
She couldn't take in the sharp cut of cheap dark blue women's robes, or the generic Celtic cross clasp of a traveling cloak without remembering Alecto Carrow's idea of punishment.
And she couldn't walk by the apothecary without seeing the glint of the tall perfume vials in the corner of her eye and remembering both Alecto and Bellatrix Black.
But no one knew this, not even Scott-though she intended on telling him eventually. She'd never shared what had happened with anyone. It was still too raw, too real.
And she knew as soon as she stepped through the brick wall that if she didn't find one of her brothers soon, one of those very things might set her off.
So she avoided the apothecary, and kept her eyes down as much as she could without running into someone. She hadn't seen any of her brothers yet, but she figured at least George would be in his shop waiting.
She wasn't expecting the display in the windows of small bookstore across from it. The title of the book screamed at her: Death Eater Witch Trials.
The pictures in the poster next to the stacks of books were of both Bellatrix and Alecto in Azkaban, like some sign that she was never getting past it.
Ginny was unable to delay the first gasping for breath of the oncoming panic attack even for a moment. She desperately needed to get away from here, away from the crowd of people doing their shopping.
The first sob came ripping out as she stumbled backwards, frantically trying to hide.
xXx
She hadn't had an attack in public before. She'd always managed to find her way home or to the safety of Scott's office, or even a restaurant toilet.
But here, it hit her with no warning. Here, she had no place close enough to hide away.
She walked into a wizard, who made to pull out his wand. But then he stopped, and stared at her.
She felt like her skin was on fire, the burning shame of a panic attack in public exacerbating everything all the more. She couldn't catch her breath, and harsh sobs came out alongside shuddering gasps.
It was by far the worst panic attack she'd ever had and everyone around her watched as she fell apart.
"Ginny!" Charlie's voice rang in her ears, but she couldn't see him. Where was he? Where were her brothers?
The panic built.
She screamed in fear, recoiling when a dark haired witch reached out a hand to try to calm her.
Bellatrix.
She knew it was irrational, the woman was dead.
The flash of her brother's red hair would normally have soothed her. But it was too soon.
She was back in that room with Bellatrix and Alecto, and the knives and the bottles.
"Ginny! Ginny! Calm down! What happened?" her brother asked.
She couldn't breathe.
"Ginny? Ginbug?" George was there too. They weren't supposed to see her like this!
"Back off, Malfoy!" she heard Percy then too. Merlin, were they all witnessing this?
"Oh, shove off Weasley. You're going to make it worse."
Draco Malfoy was there.
"She needs space, Weasley." Malfoy's voice was soft, as he gently nudged Charlie back. Her brother looked affronted.
"She's my sister, Malfoy!"
"Ginny. Ginny, look at me. It's okay. Do you need to get away from here?"
Yes.
His hands coiled around her arms. He spoke quietly, catching her eyes. He ushered her into the joke shop, never letting go of her arms.
"It's okay. Just try to breathe, just like Scott told you."
He continued to reassure her, his voice drowning out most other noise. She kept her eyes on him, not moving them away to the crowd gathered to watch them just outside the doors.
"What's going on?" she could hear in the background.
It took several minutes. By the time her breathing was under control, most of the crowd had dispersed. She continued to sit in silence for a minute, a conversation happening between her and Draco with looks alone.
"I'm okay," she finally whispered.
"What happened, Ginny?" Charlie was speaking to her, his voice low. She finally looked away from Draco. She opened her mouth to reply, but couldn't find an answer.
"She had a panic attack. I'm guessing that fucking display across the street set her off. Take her home and get her some food," Draco told her brothers. He nodded at her before walking away.
xXx
The six of them ended up eating greasy pizza in her flat as Ginny struggled to talk about what happened.
Explaining her panic attacks to her brothers took far longer and was much harder than she expected. Percy and Bill seemed to understand far sooner than the others, and she suspected they'd both spent some amount of time in therapy themselves. They didn't admit to anything, of course. They weren't exactly a "share all emotion and bake cookies together" kind of family; though her mother would probably love if they were.
Ron was the hardest. It took a great deal of patience and Charlie's support to keep Ron from going after Draco. Maybe it had something to do with Charlie being the closest when Draco had calmed her, but maybe it didn't. Charlie didn't tell.
After a few hours, her brothers began to scatter back to their lives. The silence of her flat after they left was deafening.
xXx
Why does Draco Malfoy know?
It had been one of the questions her brothers asked that she refused to answer. He deserved that much.
Why didn't you tell anyone you were struggling?
She wasn't sure she wanted to, even if she could have.
xXx
Ginny almost didn't go to meet him. She was mentally and physically exhausted, and the idea of going out again did not sit well with her.
But he was expecting her, and he had done so right by her just a few hours before.
So, she went.
Draco Malfoy was leaning against the red brick of the diner, looking cool and collected, only his eyes giving away his uneasiness.
He didn't say anything for a moment, just watched her.
"I wasn't sure if you were coming," he finally said, looking away.
"Neither was I. It's... been a long day."
"Let's just eat here."
And so they went inside.
xXx
Bridget was the waitress on their section, and she was half afraid the woman would bring up her confused response to Draco paying for her last time they'd been in at the same time.
But she didn't.
She sat in the same booth as last time, the same dark blue seats and fake white marble tabletop. This time, Draco was across from her instead of at the counter. It was weird.
"What exactly are we supposed to talk about? What kind of extras we like on our chips?" Ginny asked, desperately looking for something to talk about.
"I suppose you're one of those uncultured ones who like gravy on them?" He asked.
"I like cheese on them actually, but I'm fairly certain calling people who like gravy on theirs uncultured is unnecessary. Let me guess, you're a purist and prefer just salt?"
"Hardly."
xXx
Their dinner continued in much the same teasing manner, though neither of them ordered chips.
But neither one of them forgot why they were dining together. It was easy to pretend when they could distract each other with food.
"When can I expect your brothers to accost me?"
Ginny snorted into tea. The hot liquid sloshed around her cup, a few drops spilling onto her fingertips.
"Hopefully they won't be. Ron was the only one I was worried about, but Charlie helped calm him."
"So it's just the breaking news of my fragile mental state I should expect in the morning Prophet?" Something about the tone of his voice when he asked made her uneasy again.
"They won't be telling anyone about it," she replied quietly, setting her cup down slowly.
"Your brother hates me, Ginny. And for good reason. Why wouldn't he tell?"
"Because there isn't anything for him to tell. I didn't tell my brothers anything!"
The silly mood of before evaporated quickly, the old awkward tension snapping back into place.
"Why?"
The word, the question, was only a whisper. And then before she could answer, he was gone.
After a few silent moments, Ginny was joined by Bridget.
"He's never brought a girlfriend in before, you know. I've never seen him with anyone anywhere."
"We're not dating. We're not really even friends."
The waitress shook her head.
"I think you're probably the closest thing to a friend to him. He is comfortable talking with waitresses and staff who are working, but strangers make him uncomfortable."
"I can't picture him uncomfortable talking to anyone. He never cared back in school, and after."
"You went to school with him then, I gather. That's probably part of the difference, then. I asked him about it once and he said "the war changed us all". But you're both young and English-what war could you have possibly been in?"
"That's the thing about it, you know. There is more than one kind of war."
Bridget looked more than a little surprised at her response, but did not comment.
"I have to go." Ginny left enough money on the table to cover both meals twice over and escaped the diner.
xXx
Ginny didn't go straight home. Nothing about the day made any sense to her. Nothing made sense anymore at all.
She wandered around London, aimlessly. Before long, she ended up in a loud Irish pub, nursing a green drink she couldn't remember the name of.
The bitter alcohol drowned out everything else.
xXx
In the morning, she woke up alone in her own bed. She was safe and untouched and unharmed.
But she was angry at herself. Because of the panic attack in Diagon Alley, and the way Draco fled, and the way she got pissed on free drinks from drunk Irishmen.
The shame of yesterday lingered as she got ready for the day, even after the hangover faded. But she did her best to ignore it as long as she could.
It was game day for the first time in two months, and she had Quidditch to play.
xXx
The game was over by early evening, her team winning by only ten points. She took extra time in the showers afterwards, soaking in the hot water and avoiding the excited trilling of her teammates.
The girls, however, were still in the lockers when she poured herself into her change of clothes. It was odd, since their preferred place to hang around after showering was the hallway outside where fanboys could hit on them.
"Something going on?" She asked as the group stared at her.
"Draco Malfoy is outside! We've started a pool on who he's waiting to ask out," one of her fellow Chasers said.
Her stomach dropped.
"He was at the game, you know. Saw him in one of the boxes when I went after that Bludger with the wicked arc," the Seeker piped up.
"I'm not interested," she said quietly, and turned away to face her locker. Her face burned. She quickly gathered her things and headed towards the door.
"Not so fast, Weasley. We will all go out together."
Harangued into a sprawling mess of witches, she filed out of the locker room.
The women flocked to him as soon as they exited, making passes and lewd comments.
But Ginny knew before he spoke exactly who he was waiting for.
She started to walk away.
"Weasley! Wait!"
There was sudden silence in the hallway.
She thought about not replying, about walking away.
"I'll see you Tuesday. We'll talk then."
xXx
The expected panic attack never came.
When she got home, she went directly to bed. Sleep came easily.
At practice the next day, she did not answer the many questions her teammates had. A few of them learned that Malfoy and her were apparently ensnared in a deeply loving embrace in Diagon Alley, and from there rumors spread like wildfire.
That afternoon she talked to Scott about her panic attack while out shopping. She told him about Draco's involvement in calming her down. Then about the conversation with her brothers. Once she started, all the sordid history between her family and Draco's that she could talk about without revealing magic came out in a tangled heap.
A weight lifted.
xXx
When she went home afterwards, she made a large batch of fudge.
On Saturday night, Draco had admitted he'd never had any before.
xXx
Neither one of them were particularly vocal during group. It wasn't unusual.
After group, they both went to Scott's office without being asked.
Ginny didn't bring up the conversation with Bridget, just as she hadn't during her regular appointment. But she did admit how much fun it had been to just talk to someone. It felt strange on her lips and she wasn't even sure why she had said it. Scott simply smiled.
Draco didn't talk about why he'd left. And that hurt, more than she expected.
He'd agreed, though, that it was somewhat nice to talk to her.
The meeting was cut short when Scott got a phone call, but he paused long enough to give them another assignment.
Make a meal together.
"Come back to my flat and we'll talk times?" she asked him, as Scott waved them out.
xXx
They didn't speak until she unlocked the door and let him inside.
"I'm sorry about leaving on Saturday. It wasn't right to leave you with the check."
"It's okay. Well, it's not okay but... You needed to get away. I understand." And it was true, she did. It still stung, a bit, but she did.
"Did you want to cook tonight?" he asked suddenly.
"Not tonight. We could order in if you wanted to keep me company.
xXx
"Now, Malfoy. Chinese or Thai?"
"What about Indian? There is this great little shop a few streets down."
"Indian? I never would have pictured you as liking Indian food."
"Are you serious right now, Weaselette?"
"I'm being completely serious when I ask you to never call me that again, you great dick," she retorted.
"Great dick, eh?"
She punched his shoulder, but was unable to stop the quirking of her lips.
"Just for that I'm ordering fish and chips with gravy."
"If you order that, I will think up every weasel related name joke in the planet and call you nothing but them."
"I'm fairly certain I could start up a ferret trend, you know."
He glared at her. She grinned widely.
"There is the new italian place over by the tapas restaurant," he told her after a moment.
"Are you going to order or shall I?"
"I'd have you order but we'd probably end up with three servings of fettuccine alfredo and a box of cheap wine."
"Hey!"
xXx
"Before you leave, I have something for you." Ginny went into the kitchen, coming back out with two squares of fudge, one chocolate and one peanut butter.
"What's this?" He asked as she placed them in his hand.
"It's fudge."
There was a faint pink tinge high on his cheekbones suddenly.
"Thank you."
She smiled again, and this time it reached her eyes.
Author's Note:
This is all that I entered into the fic exchange, but it's totally not done. The story's not over yet!
