Sunsets

The first thing Ginny was aware of when she woke were Draco's arms around her. She could feel his steady breathing on the back of her neck and shoulder, and her legs were tangled with his. Realizing he was still asleep, she took her time in turning around, reluctant to break him from his slumber-induced peace. Settling her head back on the pillow, she watched him sleep, one hand placed gently on his bare chest, wary of the many scars. Again, she traced what had once been wounds--they were sparsely sprinkled over him, almost like her freckles, yet it was obvious that they had once been painful. 'And badly healed,' she thought, wondering at whose craftsmanship had left him scarred as such.

She was just going over the many scar-ridding spells she'd read about, and in the throes of deciding which would be better for this kind of work, when the room was suddenly brightened--the sun, she realized, had come out from it's hiding place behind the clouds. That meant the storm was over, and it was morning...she found herself almost dreading the departure. She didn't want to leave this room where she could be far away from the rest of the world with the only other person she seemed to recquire. Her eyes traveled from her contemplating fingers and to his face, where he was still engulfed in sleep, his eyelids fluttering only slightly.

'I wonder what he's dreaming,' she thought, watching a small smile break out on his face, just like the ones she had encountered last night. Tiny smiles, pleasant smiles, ones that held so much emotion--emotion that could not be spoken. 'Another one of those unspeakable things,' she thought, idly wondering if any one else had ever come face to face with any of Draco Malfoy's 'unspeakables'. She was content to ponder over his mysteries--why his body was so badly scarred, why he kept getting hurt; was this intentional? Was it self-inflicted? She didn't know, so she lay quietly, going over the angles in his face and thinking that she had never seen another look so at ease, so angelic...so perfect.

---------

When Draco felt the splash of color on his eyelids and consistently hot breathing on his chest, he knew it was his body's signal to wake-up--and yet, he couldn't bring himself to wrench his mind away from this dream, this wonderful dream of Ginny Weasley and sunsets. It was as if nothing gave him more pleasure, more happiness, than to spend his nights watching his two favorite things in his dreams, where they were painted simply for him and his viewage.

Still, his body persisted, and with much reluctance he dragged himself away from the beautiful picture in his head and into reality, where he was faced with something possibly even more beautiful. As soon as his eyes opened, he found himself staring into the blue, yellow-speckled orbs of Ginny Weasley, who watched him intently, almost studiously, as if she had nothing else she'd rather be doing at the moment. He was captured, he found himself almost falling into her, the depths of her eyes so endless and comforting.

"Good morning," she murmured, good naturedly, her voice quiet in greeting.

Impulsively, his lips curved upwards into a smile, and that confidence that had overtaken him last night seemed to flow through him again. Gently, he leaned down into her, using his arms as leverage to pull her forward and place his lips against hers. The kiss sent electricity spiralling throughout him, leaving a trail of comfort and familiarity in its wake. He pulled away, hesitant to break the contact, and was almost overjoyed when she followed his lips and sustained it. They stayed like that for a while, hands exploring gently, but tentative to cross any boundaries.

Finally, she pulled away, short of breath, and Draco eyed her with another smile, "Morning Weasley," he said, softly, happy with the colorful display of teeth this comment seemed to earn him, then, "I see the storm's broken."

The smile dimmed a bit, but she replied, "Yeah, we'll have to go soon." She sat up, leaving Draco disappointed at the loss of body heat this left him with. He stretched out on the bed, perfectly comfortable. Ginny surveyed the room, then said, "Rosmerta brought our clothes for us, which means we should get ready..." He was a bit startled by the look of discontent on her face, but didn't comment.

Slowly, as if wanting to prolong their stay, they both readied themselves, scrubbing their teeth and washing their faces, then dressing in their own clothes and throwing their sleep-wear down the chute. All the while, Draco felt a sincere frustration growing in his stomach--he tried numerous times to catch her eyes, but she kept avoiding his gaze, almost as if she regretted what had happened, everything that had happened...His heart seemed to drop down to his feet and drag behind as he walked--they ate breakfast downstairs at the bar, and she made sure to sit away from him. There were hardly any other students there, 'It's about damn time!' Rosmerta had commented, unsettled by how late they had risen--but Draco felt like he could not possibly hear anything out of any one's mouth...only Ginny's.

She was even more silent and withdrawn during the walk back up to Hogwarts, and Draco found that her unhappiness disturbed and affected his emotions greatly. Trying to ignore the feeling, he watched the various shops go by, reveling in the cool, late-morning's air and letting the sun wash over his face. Around them autumn seemed to burst forth, unshaken by last night's storm. Leaves dusted the cobblestone path and trees waved in the fresh air...Ginny seemed to share none of this jubilation.

Once, with the tentativeness of a new, unsure lover, Draco moved close to her, discreetly brushing his fingers against her hand, before lacing them through hers, just like he'd done that day in Potions, when she'd brought him back down to reality. She looked at him, just as unsure, frowned. Her expression sent shadows of doubt over him, and he released his grip on her loose fingers, letting her hand fall limply back to her side.

What was happening here? The same girl who had so shamelessly kissed him this morning, now shying away from his gesture of care? There was no one important around to see them, if that was what was bothering her--but somehow Draco doubted that would matter to her. Something more was troubling her, and he didn't know what.

Finally they came into sight of the castle, the gates looming close ahead. All the while her voice had been absent, as if it had not even existed--now, she found the motivation to speak, "What happens now?" The question seemed to freeze Draco in his tracks, exhilarated at the sound of her voice, but shocked by the meaning of her question. Truthfully, Draco hadn't given the situation much thought--after all, this was a situation, and a very strange one. A Gryffindor and a Slytherin--worse, a Weasley and a Malfoy...Before, he'd only been thinking of...Ginny and Draco, just Ginny and Draco--but this...How were they going to deal with this?

He looked at her for a while, a grimace evident on his face. She stood, lingering hesitantly by his side, and he felt suddenly guilty for having bestowed all the worry upon her shoulders. 'She's been worrying all morning...' he thought, 'And I'd only been trying to delve out more happiness from her...' He twisted his mouth to one side, trying to think out the best solution. His mind crossed over Lucius, and he shivered; one of her hands snapped hurriedly out to his shoulder at the movement, stroking his arm's length comfortingly, before once again returning to her side. The touch seemed to clear his thoughts, making it easier for him to focus. A picture sailed into his head, as clear as that night's dreams...

Lucius seeing him with Ginny, seeing him happy, seeing how he lov--

Who am I going to fuck?

Who am I going to fuck?

Ginny was so beautiful...so innocent.

WHO AM I GOING TO FUCK?

...her?

"No!" he said suddenly, his heart concreting, "No!" Ginny was at his side before he could comprehend, her arms thrown reassuringly, fearlessly, around him. Slowly, regretfully, he pushed her away. She opened her mouth, hurt in her eyes, but he cut her off, "No..." he backed away from her, running a restless hand through his hair--and he saw the hurt grow, "I can't..." The concern was right there, reflected in her eyes, held fast by the tears that were quickly gathering--tears of worry, tears of rejection, tears of not knowing.

"Draco--Draco, are you okay?"

It was the first time she'd ever actually called him by his first name, apart from that one incident in the library...Nevertheless, the sound of his name on her lips calmed him, calmed him enough for him to say, "This can't continue," his voice seemed to catch, feeling like it didn't want to leave his throat, "I can't, can't let--"

"What can't continue?" she asked, slow tears gathering on her eyelashes, inching away from their prisons.

Draco resisted the urge to wipe them away, just like he had last night, to kiss her again, to show her that...oh god, he couldn't believe it, couldn't know for sure...

"Us," he whispered, his throat tight, "Weasley--I...We shouldn't see each other any more--shouldn't talk, shouldn't anything; it's bad, I'm..."

"Draco," she said his name, forcefully, despite the way she seemed so frail right now, "What is this about?"

"Everything!" he said, his voice growing in pitch, "Everything!" He paused, trying to gather his wits. He didn't know why, but this was hurting him so much, so much...He couldn't bring himself to break away from her, he couldn't...But he had to, he had to, to save her from Lucius. To protect her. He closed his eyes, and inched closer to her. Gently, he leaned towards her again, the tenderness that seemed to blossom within him when he was with her emerging. He placed his forehead against hers, watched the tears stream slightly down her cheeks.

"I don't even know why I'm crying," she said, forcing a smile through her tears, "I don't even know why this matters..."

He knew--at least, he fancied he did.

Three words, three words spun in his head, but he couldn't get his mouth to say them. He realized that he shouldn't say them, that saying them would just make it harder for him--for them both. Instead, he whispered, pressing his nose lightly against hers as his hands found her hair, "Someday...someday, I'll show you everything. I'll find a way. If that day is tomorrow, then so be it--if a lifetime from now, then so be that. But when I find a way, then you'll understand." He closed his eyes, imagining her face on the back of his eyelids, surrounded by the sunset. The sunset was only for her, he realized, it bloomed only for Ginny Weasley. His heart, likewise, was only for Ginny Weasley.

Gathering his wits, he pushed her away, brushing away tears he hadn't even known were there. Sadly, and with too many burdens once again restored to his shoulders, he walked away, leaving her standing at the gates of Hogwarts, alone and confused.

---------

Ginny hadn't known that parting from him would be so painful...she'd thought that maybe they'd have to keep their relationship a secret for a while, not see each other, touch each other, in public...but she hadn't thought it would end completely. She didn't want it to have to end; she realized she didn't want anything more than to wake up next to Malfoy every morning, watch him sleep and then kiss him without fear or guilt or anything...! She wanted to be with him, even though it seemed she knew nothing about him. What she thought she'd known was rapidly turning out to be wrong, and what she wanted to know he couldn't tell her...He was a mystery by himself, but a mystery that was quickly engulfing her in its many folds--and for some reason, she felt like she was closer to the heart of it all than any one else.

Once she'd climbed back up to her Dormitory, she sat on her bed, the tears already dried on her cheeks. She didn't know what to think about all of this. She'd spent a night--just a night with Draco Malfoy, and she felt as if he were her whole world, as if he'd always been her whole world. Frowning, she lay back, looking up at the ceiling, wondering how she'd let him enchant her like this. First it had been the need to help him, to know what was wrong--now it seemed to be so much more. So much more.

'Malfoy, you pig...' she thought, idly twisting her fingers about on her stomach, 'I think I'm in love with you.'

"Gin?"

It was Helen, and Ginny found she didn't even want to talk to her best friend right now. "Yeah?"

"You spent the night with Malfoy?"

Ginny was a bit startled at her friend's knowledge, sitting up in her bed to peer at the girl who was strung over another. Helen's comforting cherub face seemed to radiate kindness, and a bland kind of curiousity..."Yes," Ginny said simply.

"Okay."

And that was that.

---------

Ginny couldn't sleep that night, instead laying sprawled out on her bed, eyes dazed with exhaustion but mind and body at odds with eachother. Her body wanted so much to feel the warmth of another--even the prospect would have been fine, but in her mind lingered the knowledge that Draco didn't want her. Why didn't he want her? What had she done wrong? She twisted, turning over, remembering so affectionately the feeling of him next to her, wrapped around her body, melding into her very soul...

She turned again, the thoughts running rampant, the sadness threatening to spill out in tears and sobs and screams...One night--one night! Sure, she'd thought him attractive before, way before any of this had ever happened...but then she'd still had the notion of him being a complete git to hold on to. Now, now something in him had changed, and her whole life seemed to have been turned upside down because of it.

Fed-up, she sat up, swinging her feet over the bed and onto the ground. Wiggling her toes, she bowed her head, contemplating what she should do...That day on the Hogwarts Express...that had all started it. If only she could go back in time and erase it all, control that naive compulsion to help him that first day that now seemed so long ago...Then the kiss, the kiss that seemed so close, so close it seemed she could almost feel it, lingering on her lips...She remembered the library incident, that had haunted her for so long, eaten away at her simply because he'd refused her help...

'Why did I help him?' she asked herself, and it seemed to be a question her mind had become brutally familiar with.

It was just...just that look in his eyes every time she did something for him, that look that told her it meant something to him, the way she cared--that told her he felt a sort of satisfaction because of her. And yet, it was such an innocent look, those steely eyes reflected an almost childlike wonder that some one like her would help some one like him. She had even seen it last night, after she'd healed his wounds--the look of awe as he'd peered up at her, the look of quiet appreciation.

She liked that appreciation, but more than anything she liked him...

'I can't believe I'm in bloody love with Malfoy, of all people!' she thought, trying to make it sound casual...she knew it wasn't casual, though--she knew it was so much more than what she made it out to be. God damnit, she was in love with bloody Malfoy. She remember briefly the conversation with her mother the morning before she'd left for Hogwarts;

"But, Ginny, darling, have you found him yet?"

"Him?"

"Yes, him--the man of your dreams, the one who completes you, the soul mate, the husband..."

Feeling the tears well up, a profound feeling of guilt came with it.

'... and by the way, how's your search for Prince Charming? I expect a full page of detailed occurences and descriptions of any boy you may have your eye on...'

Smiling a bit, she forced back down the tears. Now wasn't the time for crying--after all, that would only make it worse. Instead, she tiptoed gently up, walking over to the desk and pulling out a parchment and quille. Slowly, as if every movement mattered, she dipped the point into the open ink pot, then blotted it on her hand before lowering it to the page. 'I can't give you a full page, Mum,' she thought, 'But at least I can give you something.'

Mum,

I found him; now I know for sure. It's the same boy I mentioned in the last letter...and he's the same boy I can never have. I don't think you and Pa would approve, either--Ron would bust a vein, that's for sure.

Nothing more to say,

Ginny.

She rolled the letter up, placing it under her pillow and promising herself she would owl it in the morning.

---------

Ginny's day passed so quickly, she was hardly even aware of it. She vaguely remembered Helen asking her what was wrong, Lavendar and Parvati asking her where she'd disappeared to on Saturday, and Hermione giving her concerned stares--she vaguely remembered giving them puzzled looks, before stalking silently off. Truth was, her whole day seemed off balance, her very existence depending on either one of two ocurrences; Malfoy coming up to her and taking back everything he'd said the day before, or a letter from her mother.

It was the letter that saved her, an owl swooping in at a particularly untimely place, at exactly the wrong time. Due to the impromptu delivery, all eyes were on Ginny as she opened the letter at Dinner that evening, including the silver-grey ones that had been avoiding her all day. The hall almost seemed to quiet for her sake, and Ginny could feel with such distinction Malfoy's gaze that she had to brace herself before opening the letter. Resting it against her lap and leaning over to hide it from prying eyes, she read:

Gin,

You mean the boy who had less than a sentence written about him that last quarter of a quarter of a quarter page letter?

She couldn't help but smile a bit at her mother's attempt at light-heartedness, though was dispirited once she glanced up and saw Malfoy was no longer watching her. His gaze made her feel...comfortable, if not saddened.

Anyhow--what's all this nonsense about 'the same boy I can never have'? I don't want to hear a thing about it, and honey, I will approve (and make your father approve) of any boy you truly love; besides, who cares what Ron thinks? He's your brother for god's sake, not the Almighty Judger of Man.

'The same boy I can never have'...what happened to my Ginny--the one who faced the likes of Percy and Ron Weasley all her life! The same girl who sat for a whole day without saying a word, just because Fred wouldn't let you have a ride on his broomstick? Have you really changed so much, that not even your own mother can recognize you? This must be one hell of a boy to have you thinking like this--but if you really love him, don't send me letters at five in the morning saying he's 'the same boy I can never have'. You make it sound like such a muggle romance novel.

When me and your father were at school, we faced trial and tribulation, as well. You don't think I had to fight for what I wanted, for the life I wanted, for the man I wanted? So don't you ever say something--or even think something--that ridiculous ever again, Miss Ginevra Molly Weasley! Don't be afraid of love, or even of broken hearts. It's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all--and don't you call withering on the sidelines love.

Go get'em Gin!

Mum.

She was crying by the time she'd finished, and all the others in close proximity to her were staring in shocked silence. Sniffling, she looked up at them, realizing that they had been eying her, bewildered, the whole time. Unsettled, she glanced over to Malfoy, and was jolted back into reality when she saw him watching her again, a look of concern hidden in his eyes, though his expression was passive.

"Ginny...are you alright?" it was Hermione, and the girl's voice seemed to ring Ginny back into her body and not just as some puzzled and shaken bystander watching from afar.

"I'm fine," she muttered, wiping her tears and rising from the table, holding the letter in her hand. Swiftly, in an attempt to dodge further questioning, she exited the hall, heading straight into nowhere. Nowhere, because she needed to be alone. She didn't want to be seen by anybody, heard or even spoken to--she needed time to think, to ask herself all the whys and the whats, the whoms and the wheres.

When finally she found a gloomy corner to curl up in, she held the letter against her knees, reading it again and again.

It's better to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all..

The same words Helen had said to her, the same words that had brought her to a teary conclusion, but one that she couldn't seem to remember right now...It's better to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all...Have you really changed so much, that not even your own mother can recognize you? So many words spun in her head, they jumbled up and mixed into each other, in the end forming only four, only four that rang out so clearly among the chaotic, unified mass.

I love Draco Malfoy.

"I love him," she said out loud, as if testing the words on her lips, "I love him, and I can't believe it."

How could it have taken her so long to realize? All these years he'd been right in front of her, right there, and she'd never even suspected.

Draco Malfoy was her Prince Charming...and he didn't even know it.

Author's Note: Another chapter done...I can't believe it, I'm so close to the end of this fic! I already have the plot for several more multi-chappy fics in my head, and I have one I like that'll 'debut' soon after the last chapter of Sunsets...Anywho, hope you guys liked this chappy, read and review!