Act 3, Scene 4
Three blocks from the Thames, in a flat located in Muggle London. September 24, 2002. 3:28 am.
Her hair looked almost amber by the dim candlelight. If Blaise tried hard enough, he could forget the strawberry blond of Susan's hair from earlier in the night.
She'd looked beautiful, with her reddish gold curls spilling across bare shoulders, her elegantly simply lavender dress hugging her curves. Susan Bones, adorable and fantastically well-connected little Hufflepuff, had grown into a wonderfully slender and statuesque young woman. Blaise had first noticed this right after graduating from Hogwarts, when he'd had a short but blissful fling with her before leaving the country - and, by extension, her.
Needless to say, it had taken a lot of cajoling to get Susan to agree to dinner with him. And, normally, Blaise would have scoffed at the idea of putting even half so much effort into pursuing one woman, let alone one that he'd already dated. It wasn't that he was trying to be a dick; life just had a lot to offer, and some folks were inevitably going to get hurt when they didn't fit into Blaise's plans perfectly.
But desperate times called for desperate measures.
Blaise needed something, anything to assure him that nervous tics and fingernail biting and stumbling over words and skipping heartbeats was something that just naturally happened in one's twenties, and that all these new developments had nothing to do with the increasing integration of a certain redhead into his life.
Sex had been Blaise's answer to his mom's constant divorces and parade of new boyfriends since he was fifteen, to seeing his best friend wrestling with the demons that loomed over them and failing when they were sixteen, to the war nightmares and seeing Vincent Crabbe die in flames of his own making every night, to the fight with his mother that led to their final estrangement, to feeling the loneliness creep in as he traversed through tabloids all over Europe.
And now it was his answer to the constant ache in his chest. When Ginny Weasley was around, when she wasn't. Whether she grinned or glared, her eyes glowed and his heart ached the same way. He didn't know how to control this kind of affection, and he knew he couldn't act on it.
Even if Ginny somehow forgave him for betting against her - that she couldn't be a respectable member of society - Blaise didn't know how to be in a relationship; Exhibit A was asleep to his right.
Plus, who even knew how long this sudden monogamous urges would last? Perhaps they would fade as quickly as they had materialized.
He knew this to be an excuse, especially when he closed his eyes and couldn't think of anything but his last interaction with Ginny, earlier today.
All of sudden, all of her had been pressed up against him. Her softness melted in his hands, her arms enveloped all of him, and he thought he could drown in her brown eyes - tumultuous and bottomless - forever. For such a small witch, she sure was all-encompassing, and, in that moment, he couldn't stop ignoring how his heart bottomed out around her and how she reduced him from a confident, cosmopolitan wizard to one who remained constantly in awe.
Merlin, he thought, rubbing not sleep but insomnia from his eyes, how did Little Weasel, with her angry eyes and foul mouth, have this kind of hold over him? He didn't like it. Being in control was one of the central facets of his personality.
However, at this time of night, in the dark hours that barely existed, he could admit there was a stronger urge at the moment, one that was pulling him to someone halfway across the city.
"Blaise?" murmured a sleepy voice.
"Everything's fine," Blaise answered into the night.
Ginny's flat. September 24, 2002. 6:30 am.
Ginny had fallen asleep on her couch after hours of walking around the flat in messy pajamas, plagued by thoughts bouncing around in her insomniac head. She knew Milly would have scolded her if she knew - "Miss Geeny! Very important you take beauty sleep! Ball in one day!" - but everything had to be perfect for today.
She hadn't been anticipating anything so much since the court hearing where she got to dress down the French Wizarding Prime Minister for turning away war refugees in front of the Wizengamot. It was strange, she wouldn't have thought she'd follow that up with being so excited to take Draco Malfoy on a field trip.
Ginny was up now, still yawning every other minute, but her excitement coursing through every vein. Draco Malfoy, at her mercy. Oh yes, this was going to be a nice twist of fate, she thought, nearly rubbing her sweater-clad hands together in evil mania. She probably didn't need coffee at this rate. Did she?
Oh well, Ginny thought, glancing at the coffee pot sitting next her sink. Why not one for good measure?
She'd only just turned on the lovely little Muggle machine her father had gifted her two Christmases ago when the Floo lit up. "Fuck, he's early," Ginny muttered before racing to her bedroom to find some pants to put on.
When she was relatively decent and exited back to the living room, however, it wasn't Draco but another willowy blonde - in much more flamboyant clothing but equally messy hair - tracking ash around her fireplace.
"Luna?" Ginny asked, cocking her head. "What are you doing here? We don't have plans today, do we?"
"No, not today," Luna answered in a voice less airy than usual and with her sky-blue eyes fixed sharply on her friend, "but we did yesterday."
"Noooo, oh Luna, love," Ginny moaned, burying her head in her hands. "Good Gwenog, I am so sorry. I completely blanked on our monthly tea."
"Yes, well, I figured," Luna answered slightly more warmly, as she sat on the loveseat and gave Ginny a small, sympathetic smile. "And I wouldn't be worried, Ginny, but..."
Ginny peeked out from above her hands, with her eyebrows narrowed. "But what?"
"Sit down, Ginny." Luna commanded softly. And had it been Hermione or anybody else, Ginny might not have listened. But this was Luna with her infinite patience and easy smiles and expansive wisdom, so Ginny warded off the wave of defensiveness swelling within her - and sat.
Luna folded up her own feet onto the loveseat and curled her legs around herself. She gave Ginny a searching look with her big blue eyes, and Ginny felt unsettled and on display to be picked apart. It was more than unnerving, especially when she was barely understanding herself at the moment. "You look very different."
"Good different or bad different?" Ginny asked nervously.
Luna's expression didn't change. "That's up to you, Ginny," she said, as if it were obvious. She reached out behind Ginny's ear, and, as a testament of their bond, Ginny didn't move the slightest, even when Luna snapped loudly behind her ear.
"Checking for any hidden Doxies. I thought I could sense some, but I suppose not."
"Of course, your concern is appreciated."
Luna folded Ginny's hands into her own and looked into her eyes. "Ginny, I'd be perfectly fine with you missing our tea date, except I have no idea where you've been this past week or so. In fact, nobody, including your own family, knows where you've been since-"
"Since Ron and Hermione's engagement party," Ginny finished angrily, getting heated again thinking about her lack of invite to the family. She'd had them all blocked from her Floo since, and she wasn't planning on changing that any time soon. "Yeah, well, that's their own bloody fault," she snapped.
"Sure, Ginny." Luna nodded sagely. "Make your own decisions and take your time. The issue isn't that; it's that Marc told me you've taken off from work and you missed our date, and I can't imagine where else you'd be."
Ginny sighed. She hadn't expected to have this conversation until after the ball, and certainly not with tolerant, accepting Luna of all people. "I'm sorry for missing the tea, Luna, but I have been working, okay? This is all for work, I just need time, I-"
"What's for work, Ginny?" Luna asked, her light brows furrowed. "You're not in debt are you? Gambling? Listen, my father dealt with this once-"
"No, no, Luna. I'm not gambling, and money's fine. The donations to Wizard's Watch are growing at the fastest rate ever."
"Than what, Ginny? What are you not telling me?" Luna looked more serious than Ginny had ever seen her, and she was startled until she realized she'd never kept a secret from Luna. She'd never had to - her old friend had known everything, from Snape's wrath to the crush on Harry to the nightmares of Tom - since they were fifteen.
"I can't, Luna." Ginny looked at her pleadingly. She wasn't sure what it was - the fact that she still wanted her appearance at the Ball to be a surprise or that she didn't know how to explain what was going on with Draco, with Blaise, with her - but she couldn't tell Luna now. Not when everything was so close. "Please trust me, it's nothing bad."
Luna let her hands slip from Ginny and sat back, wordless. She nodded a minute later and stood up, making her way through the Floo gracefully despite the piles of mess in the living room. She picked up some Floo powder from above the fireplace and threw it into the ashes before turning back to Ginny. The green flames roared to life behind Luna as she looked through Ginny.
"What kind of different you are is up to you, Ginny. But staying wrapped up in Ginny Weasley world? That's not so subjective."
And then she stepped into the crackling fire and disappeared, leaving Ginny sitting on the couch and more uncertain than ever.