Save you, Save me

By

Sannikex

For

Fearthainn

A/N: Hello all. This fic was bought at an auction by Fearthainn, one of the greatest authors our fandom have. Many thanks to Kelsey and Judith whom I have pestered for their opinions and thoughts for putting up with me. And also million thank yous to Camilla for being the wonderful person she is and for betaing this for me! I think that's all, I hope you'll enjoy!

Disclaimer: Sadly enough, since I could use being a genius and a very rich one too, I'm not J.K Rowling. Therefore, I don't own anything but the plot.

She had always attracted his attention. Without demands he had noticed and he had seen. He had seen her running after the Hogwarts Express his first year. Tears had been streaming down her face and she had struggled to keep up with the moving train, to keep up with her brothers. Just as she had always done.

He had seen her in Flourish and Blotts. Seen her longing glances at Potter, noticed the nervous movements of a girl afraid to humiliate herself. He couldn't resist the challenge. But she had risen to it. She had fought him back. And gotten his attention. In spite of popular belief he did not loose interest in something that once caught his notice. When he was a child his toys had lasted for years if they had caught his fancy.

Ginny Weasley had become his toy. His obsession grew with time as he had observed her from afar. She had been trailing after Potter, the fascination she held for him never seemed to cease. But then something had changed. He still didn't know what it was but the resignation had lifted from her shoulders and a group of people had been drawn to the charisma hidden for so long. People had been drawn to her like moths to a flame. He didn't like it, until then she had been his. His to watch, his to observe, his to regard. Now a crowd of almost worshipping morons bathed in her radiance.

He had followed the windings of her life as it carried on, watched as Potter noticed her, had seen what no one else saw. That Potter did not meet her expectations. That perfect Potter was not enough. It had filled him with glee.

Then the war had come. He couldn't see her now and then as he used to and he hated to admit that he missed it. She had always been there, never changing.

When he saw her again she had changed.

The war moved borders. Unthinkable things became natural and natural things unthinkable. Greeting your neighbors, go out alone and send mail was now unthinkable, while killing, torturing and fight were everyday chores. And sleeping with the enemy, he thought sourly. The attraction that hit him when he had seen Ginny Weasley again had surprised him. In one violent blow his observing object had become an obsession. They had held out for three months of seeing each other now and then during small missions and battles and the tension had crackled between them.
It was the night before what everyone addressed as The Final Battle. They had both given in, as time, side and name didn't matter the night before what could be the end. Tomorrow might not exist and all over the wizarding world people were desperately clinging to dreams, wishes and plans they had fantasized about. This night they were bidding life farewell.

He felt her moving restlessly and looked down at her face. He knew every angle, yes even every single freckle, after the years he had watched her, but she had never looked more beautiful than now, with her head resting on his shoulder and her red hair caressing his bare chest with every breath. He sighed and sent the window a look. Bleak October light was seeping in and he lifted his wand and shut the curtains. It was almost time to leave but he could shut out the world for just a few hours. At the moment he had some more pressing matters that needed the sleeping redhead's attention.

She stared out in the darkness of the room, silent with except for the even breathing of the man behind her. She had curled up on her side and he was spooning her from behind. A strong arm was loosely wrapped around her waist. She could feel his slow, heavy heartbeats against her back. There has to be a threshold of how much one can take, she thought as the realization of her actions started to dawn on her like the cold morning light seeping through the curtains. No one could deem her for this; it was inhuman how he made her react. She couldn't help that everytime he was close she wanted to be closer, that his scent sent made light fingers teasingly dance down her spine and his stormy eyes gave her goosebumps.

No one needed to get to know that. It could be her secret to treasure and savour the reminiscent of an unforgettable night.

She didn't need to know that she'd slept with a Death Eater. The same eyes that she had seen through the slits in a black mask had looked at her heated with passion for her.

Her family would hate her. Her friends would be disgusted.

And yet, she couldn't bring herself to regret it.

The warmth from the body behind her made her relax and slow, even breaths lulled her to sleep once more.

The cold hit him and disturbed him more than he liked as he left the cheap hotel behind. The feeling of loss also disturbed him. He missed the feeling of the redhead's warm body pressed against his, the weight of her head on his shoulder and her silky hair wrapped around his fingers.

Mist swirled around his feet and dead leaves crunched with every step. The year was struggling against the final death of winter as a diseased man fighting for his life, fully well knowing that his time was up.

A sharp pain on his forearm made him set his jaw. So it was time. Now there would be an answer to if the wizarding world would see another spring or if it was the autumn before winter of an era.

The blonde man stopped mid-track and seemed to listen to something before vanishing leaving no tracks of his presence more than a movement in the mist.

She regained conscious slowly. The oblivious state between sleep and wake was to precious to let go, it was the only moment in the day where she could pretend that her mother was cooking breakfast in the Burrow kitchen, her brothers snoring or fighting about bathrooms and her biggest problem was how to make them quiet enough to let her sleep.

But this morning the only thing that came to her mind was the feeling that something was missing. There was no arm around her waist. There were no fingers playing softly with her violent red tendrils.

Three times she had woken up with Draco Malfoy and she already missed it.

She turned over and her brown gaze fell on the object on the other pillow. His pillow.

It was a totally normal reaction for a woman, she thought angrily and stepped out in the cool morning air. It was normal for a woman to want something more from a man she had slept with. All women felt so. Absolutely. That was why she had put on the necklace he'd left for her. Not because she actually wanted something more from him, no, it was just a normal reaction. She didn't want anything from Draco Malfoy.

Angry with herself she apparated from the front-step of the shabby hotel.

When the echoing pop that had resounded when the red-haired woman disappeared faded, the last evidence of her presence died.