Draco stared out of the window, a frown creasing his forehead.
Ginny took the opportunity to let her eyes roam over his figure, seeing him as if for the first time. His silky black robes hung on him more so than usual, evidence of the fact that he had lost weight. There was still a grayish tinge to his skin, although now there were splotches of the palest pink in his cheeks. Ginny noticed the way the tips of his silvery blond hair hung over his eyes, very different from earlier years where he had slicked it back with hair gel.
Her gaze trailed down his face to the sharp point of his chin. There was a slight mark on the left side of his jaw that stood out against his usual pale white color. It seemed oddly shaped, as if placed there deliberately. Ginny glanced up in confusion and was horrified to find that he was staring back to her.
Drat! Just what I need, Malfoy thinking I'm mooning over him.
"Just what are you looking at?" Draco demanded with a scowl.
Ginny resisted the urge to snicker and instead merely crossed her arms stubbornly, knowing that it would irritate him even more. "Right now, I have no idea really." It was so amusing to bother him; he made it so easy.
Before the war, she had never really had the chance to laugh and joke with Harry. When not busy going off on adventures with Ron and Hermione, he was always so serious, his mind on Voldemort's return or his godfather's death. Of course, Ginny never held this against him, but it was hard being around him at times. She had grown up with six brothers and had come to love a good prank or clever invention. With Harry, however, she had always felt the need to tone herself down and become more feminine for him. Though she knew he loved her for who she was, she still did not feel like herself around him. He was always protecting her, and she never got the chance to show herself capable of protecting him for a change.
Draco eyed her scornfully. What was I thinking, letting her sit here? I must be mad, he thought morosely. Yes, I've finally gone round the bend. Father's going to have to send me to St. Mungo. At least they'll give me nice candies to snack on in the loony bin.
To distract himself from the very real possibility of his craziness, the young man tried to think of something to say.
"So, why aren't you with Granger and Weaselbee?" he finally asked casually. Ginny glanced up in surprise at his question. She did not know how to respond to his civility. To be honest, she had never had a real conversation with him and certainly not one such as this.
"Hermione is the new Head Girl, and she had to sit in another compartment with the Head Boy. Ron's a perfect again, so he had to patrol the corridor with the rest of the perfects," she answered slowly, her words carefully thought out.
Draco snickered when he heard what she said about Ron. "I never really thought of Weaselbee as 'perfect' material. He is, how shall I say it... not the quickest wand in the shop, if you catch my drift." And yet he still managed to get in more N.E.W.T. level classes than I did. He's either bloody lucky or I'm an idiot.
To his utter shock, instead of getting angry with him for insulting her brother, Ginny actually chuckled. "I know, right? His chest puffed up three sizes when he got the badge, although he would never admit it in a million years. He's getting as bad as Percy was," she remarked with a wry smile. Their laughter died down, and they lapsed into an awkward silence, avoiding each other's eyes.
Did we just do what I thought we did? Laughing? With Malfoy of all people? Never thought I'd see the day, Ginny mused with wide eyes as she stared resolutely at the floor.
Her chest ached as she imagined what Harry would say about the situation. Her vision blurred, remembering the way he looked at her before he stormed out of her room. Anger and hurt had been written all over his face, his eyes burning with frustration behind his glasses. I didn't mean to hurt you, Harry. I honestly didn't!
Discreetly swiping at her eyes, Ginny took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. She was a Weasley, and Weasleys were strong, no matter what. She refused to become weepy at the mere thought of her old flame.
I can do this without him. I don't need anyone to hold me up. I can hold myself up!
Draco snuck a sideways glance at his companion and was startled to see her quickly wiping away a tear. He had never seen her cry before. Certainly, he had seen her hex other students older than her, himself including. He had seen her so furious that her cheeks flushed as red as her flaming hair and her eyes got a scary demonized look in them. Very rarely had he seen her do anything as weak as crying.
It was disconcerting to realize that the strong, spirited young woman he thought he knew was just as vulnerable as everyone else was. Lately, he had found out the hard way just how human people really were; he just never thought that it would apply to someone like the Weaselette.
What could she have to cry about anyway? he pondered resentfully. Her life's perfect. Potter following her like a lost puppy, her father promoted in the Ministry, and her ramshackle hovel newly rebuilt.
He had read about it all in the Daily Prophet, which seemed to be reporting anything to do with the name Potter or Weasley. Honestly, though. It was simply infuriating to buy the newspaper and see nothing but his rivals' faces plastered all over it.
Suddenly, a vague memory of sitting in the Great Hall at Hogwarts right after Potter killed the Dark Lord rose to his mind unbidden. He indistinctly remembered someone's body being buried in the new school cemetery, Ginny and her mother leaning against each other for support.
Wasn't it one of the Weasley twins? Frederick? Freddy? Or was it the other one? George, I think his name was. No matter. The fact remained that she had lost her brother. Something twisted unpleasantly inside his chest at this memory.
I guess we all lost something precious that day, some more so than others.
The train slowly chugged onward, the rolling hills of the countryside dancing past the window. Darkness fell and a small, magical light flickered on above their heads.
Though Ginny fought against falling asleep, the restless night before took its toll on her. Her head slowly slid down from its resting place on the back of the seat, and she eventually mumbled drowsily, stretched out on the seat, and drifted off to unconsciousness. A few strands of her hair stuck to her freckled cheek, the scattered brown spots shinning in the moonlight that seeped in from the misted window.
While she slept, Draco studied her, listening to her steady breathing. Her chest rose and fell with each inhalation. Eyelids fluttering gently, she twisted around with a quiet moan, her head whipping back and forth on the seat. He caught a few indistinct words tumbling forth from her mouth as she dreamed. The Slytherin snorted in contempt as he heard her whisper Harry's name repeatedly.
She's lucky to still have something to hold onto. She could marry Potter tomorrow, settle down, and have some kids. Me? I'll forever be remembered as the man who killed Dumbledore even though Snape was the one who actually spoke the words that ended his life. You-Know-Who's prodigy, they call me. What a legacy.
Draco sighed heavily, allowing his composure to slip ever so slightly. As he pondered his uncertain future, his eyes tightened with dread. The window fogged over in time with his exhalations, the mist slowly growing and shrinking every second. His heart beat a rapid tune in his chest.
I just want to get on with my life, to get this year over with as soon as possible. I don't want to be the big, bad monster who eats little first years for breakfast and will curse you as soon as look at you anymore. I just want to be normal for once.
Ginny stirred, a sigh escaping her lips, and her eyes slowly fluttered open. The train let loose a loud whistle as it gradually pulled into Hogsmead Station. After stretching her arms high above her head with a yawn, she glanced around. Draco was staring out of the window with a troubled expression, his eyes strangely distant and unfocused. The Gryffindor cleared her throat self-consciously, effectively snapping him out of whatever daydream he was in.
Draco's head whipped around so fast that she almost expected to hear an accompanying snap. He stood up abruptly, towering over her. Ginny hastily jumped up as well in a knee-jerk reaction. It was only to be expected with her recent luck that her head slammed into his chin, sending him staggering back.
"Merlin, Weasley. You're going to be the death of me," Draco growled out after he finally caught his breath, rubbing his chin resentfully. "Now move! I can't breathe with you crowding me like that," he snapped. Trying in vain to shove her away from him, Draco let out an angry snarl when he only succeeded in making her elbow smash into his gut.
Ginny scowled up at him and squeezed past his lean form to grab her trunk off the rack. After watching her struggle with lifting the heavy trunk from its resting place high above her head, the Slytherin sighed and reached up to tug it out for her.
"Here," he said sharply, shoving it at her, before grabbing his own, hefting it up and out of the rack with a grunt, and striding out the door. The last thing she heard before he disappeared was, "Good grief, Weasley. What do you have in there? Bricks?"
Ginny automatically stuck her tongue out at his back the way she would have done with her brothers. Shaking her head at her own childishness, she griped her trunk handle and trudged out of the compartment after him.
