Author's Note: My lovely reader, as promised! I hope I have not made you wait too long. I am in exams however, and on the side have been insanely busy finishing up an Arabic film with my tutor (if we get it up somewhere online, I will be sure to let you all know, for it is truly amazing--and subtitled, fear not).
Also, I apologize in advance for my british-isms that are sneaking their way in here. You will see 'fit' later on--it means 'hot'. At least I've kept the spelling American, but 2 years in this country is starting to have it's effect of me. Thank goodness I'll be home in a week and a half!
Disclaimer: Per usual, I own nothing, only the usage of the wonderful language that is English is mine.
As always, Read, Review, & Enjoy!
'He who fights with monsters might take care lest he thereby become a monster. And if you gaze for long itno an abyss,t he abyss gazes also into you.'
~Friedrich Nietzsche
Ginny cradled the picture in her hands, her finger tracing the laughing faces in the frame, the pyramids of Egypt behind them, simmering in the hot summer sun. She felt a familiar tug at her heart and closed her eyes to the pain, wishing that one day she could look at this photo and smile without the heavy weight of regret and the blinding hatred she felt bubbling within her when she thought of the war. A war that had taken her family and her friends. A war that had ripped her dreams to shreds and thrown her future into a dark nothingness. Ginny survived day by day; she forced herself out of bed in the mornings and into it at night, praying for a peaceful night's sleep. Every day was a constant reminder of death, of shattered hope, of hate. It was still there, lingering in their visages, evident in the eyes of the survivors: the touch of evil, the knowledge that there was indeed a hell on Earth.
She placed the picture gently back on her bedside table. Reaching up, she ruffled her hair and forced herself to smile, remember how she used to laugh loudly and carefree. Finally, her thoughts settled on Charlie and his promise to visit in a few months' time. To be with her brother again would at least bring some temporary happiness to her life, some solace to her wandering soul. Ginny squirmed her way down her bed, burying herself in her cool covers and feather duvet. Just as she reached over for the light, she heard a loud thump against her door. She sat up slowly, alert. War had taught her that every noise was a potential threat, especially if it was when you were least prepared. Ginny retrieved her wand from her bedside table and pulled back the covers, slithering out of bed and into her slippers. Her nightdress fell back down to her knees as she stood and cautiously shuffled to the door.
"Who is it?" she whispered loudly.
Another thump. "Weasley—lemme in, for Merlin's beard."
Ginny's heart leapt from her chest at the voice. Malfoy? What in the world was he doing on her doorstep in the middle of the night and—no doubt, by the sounds of it—intoxicated? Ginny smacked her head gently against the door, cursing her rotten luck. The people she loved she could never see again, no matter how much she longed for it, but the only man in the world she wished would disappear from her sight forever never seemed to leave her alone.
Two loud thumps shook her from her short self-pity trip. "Weaslette, open the door, for the love of—"
Ginny whipped the door open at his thunderous shouting and quickly pulled his shaky, drunken figure into her apartment. She closed the door and pushed him towards the living room.
"Malfoy, what in the name of Merlin are you doing here? It's nearly two in the morning," she tried to keep her voice low, but every word was encased with venomous hatred.
Malfoy smiled languidly and took a step towards her, his face half silhouetted in the moonlight. His hair gleamed silver and his pale cheeks were flushed red. Ginny couldn't decide whether he looked like an angle or a demon. "You didn't have to let me in."
His seemingly sober words had her blinking quickly. "You're not drunk?"
Draco smirked. "I sobered up a while ago."
She stepped closer, threateningly, her hands on her hip, her brown eyes flashing in the dark room. The strength she gave off made up for her short height and she almost seemed to be looking down at him when she asked, accusingly, "Then why were you creating a ruckus in my corridor?"
"You know what your problem is, Gin-gin?" He closed the gap between them and rested a hand heavily on her shoulder. "You are too uptight, love."
Ginny shrugged away from his touch. "Leave."
He merely lifted an eyebrow indifferently and headed for the couch, settling himself in the middle of it. Ginny let out a large, angry huff. "Malfoy, why are you here?"
Studying his fingernails meticulously, he didn't even spare her a glance, her anger seemingly amusing him. "When a man is drunk, Weasley, he thinks about a lot of things and he is forced to face a lot of truths."
She rolled her eyes, but decided to humor him. "For instance?"
"For instance…where he wants to be when he wakes up in the morning. Does he want it to be in some cheap hotel room where he was dumped? Does he want it to be next to a fit girl whose name he can't even recall? Or does he just want to be home in his own bed in his own house?" Ginny sighed impatiently, signaling that she was waiting for him to get to the point. Malfoy met her eyes at last. "I don't do cheap hotel rooms nor do I sleep with women that I'm not positive as to where they've been. As for my bed? It's a bit cold and lonely these days. In short, Ginevra Weasley, I came to the stark realization that I wanted to be here."
She snorted loudly, crudely. "Why on Earth would you want to be here? I hate you, Malfoy. I hate you so much I can't even begin to describe it, for there are no words." She took a few steps towards him. "My hatred goes beyond Malfoy/Weasley, beyond Slytherin/Gryffindor. It even goes beyond Death Eater/Order Member." Soon she found herself practically on top of him, looking down on him, her eyes locked on his, berating him. "You are the most vile, despicable man I have ever met. I have a theory that Lucifer himself spawned you and maliciously released you on Earth to torture mankind, giving you the face of an angle simply for deception.
"You are the villain, Malfoy; you are the oppressor, the tyrant, the monster, the murderer. You are Judas, you are Grindelwald, you are Voldemort. You are every bit of sadistic, greedy, selfish, masochistic that you find in human beings all rolled into one giant enigma. Where there is light, you bring darkness, in harmony, chaos, in happiness, suffering, in love, hate. I had never realized that your wickedness reached your core until two weeks ago, but now that I have I want nothing to do with you. I didn't plan on speaking to you ever again, for fear that your cold calculating ways would worm their way into my life and plant a dark, immoral seed in the heart of me that I could never get out."
Several moments passed in absolute silence when Ginny's tirade had ended. At last, Malfoy gave a low whistle. "I have never met anyone that understood me as well as you do, Weasley. And to compliment me thus…." A small smile reached his lips. "You're talking to me again."
Ginny's mouth tightened at his words. "You—you—you insufferable man! Out, get out of my house! Get out of my life!"
Malfoy stood up quickly and he was suddenly so close to Ginny that she stopped breathing for fear that the toxic scent of his cologne would weave a malicious spell on her. "Why do you hate me?"
She stuttered for a second, not sure how to respond. "You represent everything I hate," she said at last. "To me, you represent those who took my family from me, those who crushed my dreams and my future in the palm of their hands, and those who killed everything that was good and right in this world."
He sighed and reached out to grab her shoulders. She struggled but he tightened his hold, waiting until she'd resigned the fight before speaking. "I know you like to believe that I am everything bad in this world. By thinking that, it makes it easy. Hate me and you are good. Don't trust me and you will be safe. Take revenge on me and you will avenge all the wrong that was done. Hating me makes the world seem simple. It makes right and wrong seem so clear cut. There is a black and a white, a good and an evil, a wrong and a right.
"You are not wrong to say that I am cruel. I am a cold, selfish man who goes to whatever means to get what he wants. But you cannot try to encompass all the evils of this world into one figure. Hating me, getting rid of me, taking your anger out on me…it won't get rid of the evils left over from the war, Weaslette. It won't take away the memories and it won't make the world a better place. I am not the only bad person in this world. And you know, perhaps better than I, that not everything is so easily definable. The lines between love and hatred, good and bad, wrong and right are often blurred and undistinguishable because we all, as human beings, tread these lines. We all make mistakes, we all give into temptation, and we all have moments where we are uncertain."
Draco sighed deeply and released her shoulders slowly. "We cannot see the end result, Weasley. We cannot possible know all the consequences of our actions. As such, we are prone to errors. We are all scarred with the pain and regret of the past. I know you want to think that I am the bad guy in this scenario, but it just isn't that simple, love."
Ginny's eyes were full of furious tears. She stepped away from Malfoy and wiped the corners of her eyes, restraining the water threatening to escape. "Don't pretend you can possibly understand how I feel, Malfoy. Don't pretend you have suffered as I have. Don't you dare, for one second, believe that you have any right to tell me about the evil in this world." Quickly, Ginny fled from the room, shutting her bedroom door loudly behind her and locking it with a charm.
On one side of the door, a redhead slid down the wooden frame, dissolving into heart-wrenching tears as the words of the Slytherin resounded in her head. She couldn't hide from the truth that was in them. She gasped several times, trying to slow the flow, but she only managed to start hiccoughing. Wrapping her arms tightly around herself, she prayed for sleep to come and relieve her of this newfound weight in her heart--something akin to guilt--and the flood of mixed emotions now rushing through her body.
On the other side, Malfoy fell back onto the couch. He shrugged off his cloak and pulled it across him as he lay down, settling his head onto the armrest. Potter had been spot-on. Ginny's hatred stemmed from the fact that she blamed him for everything. It made sense; he was the only 'evil' that remained in her life and, with everything good having left her, she couldn't help but see him as the cause of it all. Forcing her to realize all of this, however, was only the first step. Malfoy honestly couldn't figure out why he was going to all this trouble. However, their spat had riled feelings inside him as well; he was feeling guilt for all the things he had done, especially towards Ginny, and he was angry at the fact that she could just blame him for his past as though he had ever had a choice. 'Don't pretend you can possibly understand how I feel, Malfoy. Don't pretend you have suffered as I have' she had said.
Malfoy sighed and shut his eyes. Weasley, if only you knew. You are the one who cannot possibly understand.
Author's Note: Hope you guys enjoyed, I'm actually quite proud of this baby. It looks shorter, but its actually I think the longest chapter so far. Next chapter probably won't come until next weekend at the earliest (due to exams and packing to head home, back to the good ol' US of A). Be patient until then, lovelies, and I would ADORE a review!