A/N: Nope, no romance yet
A/N: Nope, no romance yet. Trust me, when it gets to that point, you'll know. Some in the next chapter and a snog or two should be coming up soon. Although Draco gets good and mad in this part. He's so sexy in those moods, isn't he? And Ginny goes slightly insane. Blame Draco! He and Ginny are writing this, not me. They've teamed up to take over my brain and have informed me that things are going to go their way, so if I think my ideas are better than theirs I can go stick my head in a pig. (Ten points to anyone who can tell me where that's from!) I'm just providing the keyboarding skills.

Extremely Important: In the last chapter, I stated that Charlie was visiting the Weasleys. THIS WAS A MISTAKE! If you look, it was corrected to read Bill. You'll find out why this is relevant- and that's the last time I write while instant messaging- I'm sorry.

I'll always remember
It was late afternoon
It lasted forever,
And ended too soon
You were all by yourself,
Staring up at a dark gray sky
I was changed

In places no one would find
All your feelings so deep inside 
It was then that I realized,
That forever was in your eyes
The moment I saw you cry

The moment that I saw you cry...

It was late in September,
And I'd seen you before,
You were always the cold one
But I was never that sure
You were all by yourself
Staring up at a dark gray sky
I was changed

In places no one would find
All your feelings so deep inside
It was then that I realized
That forever was in your eyes
The moment I saw you cry...

I wanted to hold you,
I wanted to make it go away,
I wanted to know you,
I wanted to make your everything, all right....

I'll always remember...
It was late afternoon...
In places no one would find...

In places no one would find,
All your feelings so deep inside,
It was then that I realized,
That forever was in your eyes,
The moment I saw you cry...

~ Mandy Moore- Cry

"Where to next?" Ginny asked.

They'd been moving along in a kind of cold efficiency, speaking only when necessary, communicating more be motion and various degrees of irritation on their faces.

Draco motioned to a bookstore across the street. "We've got to see if they've got some book that went missing." He handed her the paper he was holding, snatching back his hand immediately so their hands wouldn't touch.

Ginny scanned the paper. It was around six in the evening, and every other item on the list had a neat check mark next to it- even his handwriting seemed cold. She sometimes found herself involuntarily shivering- whether from the chill of the last October evening or his presence, she didn't know.

"So that's the last one?"

Some instinct that came with being a youngest sibling made Ginny want to annoy the hell out of him, so when he responded with a quick nod, she said, "A verbal answer wouldn't be too much to ask, would it?"

"Depends on who I'm talking to."

"Let's get this over with."

"That," Draco remarked, "is the one sentence that keeps me sane."

He didn't exactly seem to be talking to her, so Ginny didn't respond.

Two weeks of this, and they hadn't thawed towards each other one bit. True, Ginny had tried to be civil to him, but he didn't exactly make it easy.

If she could have read his mind, she'd have been rather surprised.

He hated her still. More than ever- but the reason was a rather different one.

He had to work to be nasty to her. This had never happened before; normally the insults rolled off his tongue before he knew he was saying them. But there was always a slight pause with her, enough time for her face to gain that self-satisfied little smirk that he despised.

And he didn't know why, which, possibly, was the most annoying thing about her.

She was looking impatient. How dare she? A Weasley, get impatient with him?

"Are we going or not?"

He was irritating her. Good.

"I suppose."

The shop was closed.

"Damn," Ginny muttered. "Guess we're done. Give me the list. I'm owl it over to Graham."

"What makes you think you can order me around, Weasley?"

Ginny sighed. "Because Graham is my boss. Much as I don't like him, I have a responsibility to do what he tells me."

He handed her the piece of parchment. "Happy?"

"Quite."

They walked in silence down the street- it was important not to attract attention, doing what they were. Apparating could be traced, and a pair of people who didn't frequent Knockturn Alley very often would be too noticeable.

Once on Diagon Alley, they each Apparated home without saying another word.

***

Draco hadn't made many changes to Malfoy Manner since inheriting it, feeling a sort of apathetic pride towards it. The décor was the same, the furniture arrangement was unchanged, and the cold atmosphere was as it had always been. He wasn't exactly fond of the house, but it blatantly advertised his wealth, properly impressing and intimidating those that needed to be impressed and intimidated.

It was traditional for whoever was in control of the house to inhabit the master bedroom, but this was one tradition Draco had ignored. It reminded him too much of his father, his presence still dominated much of the house. The question of bedrooms didn't present a problem, however, as the house had twenty-nine of them. Draco still used the room he had as a child, on the second floor overlooking the back of the extensive grounds.

A marble statue of Lucius Malfoy graced the landing of the staircase, enchanted so that the eyes followed anyone who passed. It was enough to give anyone nightmares- Draco suspected his father had intended this. He usually avoided this staircase, but it was the most direct route to his bedroom and he was too tired to care.

His bedroom was dark. This meant he didn't have to waste energy on drawing the curtains; he was too tired anyway. He flopped on his bed and listened to the sound of his own breath for a few minutes.

A banging sounded against the window. He cursed silently, hoping it would go away.

It didn't.

He went to the window. A screech owl was flapping outside, one that he recognized as belonging to Pansy. He'd always thought the owl's species rather appropriate, judging by its owner's vocal range. Draco had seen some bad-tempered owls in his lifetime, but Pansy's was downright evil. He wondered if it had anything to do with belonging to her.

It occurred to him that he shouldn't be thinking this way about his girlfriend. He forgot about it a moment later when the owl dropped the letter on the floor and swooped out.

Slamming the window shut, Draco spat out a few more choice profanities. He then turned his attention to the parchment on the floor.

Draco,

Meet me at the Three Broomsticks at nine tonight. I need to talk to you.

Pansy

Nothing else. No reason, no polite request, it wasn't even an order. Pansy was like that, informing someone they were going to do something instead of merely telling them.

Sometimes, Draco wondered why he put up with her.

***

She looked impatient. As always. He sat down across from her at the table she'd claimed,

"Draco," she greeted him.

"Hello, Pansy."

"How are you?"

"I'm all right, I suppose. How are you?"

"I've been better, Pansy." Why bother lying?

She was silent for a few minutes. A waiter came to the table. They ordered butterbeer. Still silence.

"Draco..."

"Yes?"

"I needed to talk to you about something."

"I assumed that, Pansy. The owl nearly breaking my window was sort of a dead giveaway."

"Well..." she hesitated. "It's just that... well, Draco, I really don's think we're working out."

He stared.

"It's just that we're too different. You're so quiet."

"Am I?" So she had noticed his attempts to not make conversation. And misinterpreted them. "So I suppose you want to break up, Pansy?"

"To put it that way, yes."

He looked her in the eye. A strange, dead calm had settled over him.

"Goodbye, Pansy," he said.

She didn't reply.

Draco cancelled his order, then left the Three Broomsticks.

So.

He was reacting oddly. She had grown tired of him. Was that allowed? Was the incredibly shallow girl allowed to ditch the incredibly shallow guy?

Was he shallow? No, not shallow exactly, not naturally, but he'd been acting the part so long that he had become shallow. Or at least extremely close to it.

He wandered around the streets of Hogsmeade for a while, and somehow ended up at the gates of the cemetery where his father was buried.

Well. This was turning out to be a fun day.

He turned in the gate. It wasn't as though he had anything else to do.

Lucius Malfoy's grave was one of the most noticeable in the cemetery. No expense would be spared for a Malfoy.

God he hated this place.

"Are you happy, Dad?" Draco whispered. "Look where you ended up. Just where you said I would, because I was weak. If I'm so weak how come I'm here and you're there?"

Movement. A rustling sound- leaves in the trees, of course.

He started up the path for the entrance, telling himself he did not hear footsteps behind him.

I don't.

I don't.

There's nothing there.

Draco stopped moving.

There was a sudden impact on his back. He and the figure both shrieked in surprise. He spun around.

"Weasley?"

"Malfoy?"

"What the hell are you doing here, Weasley?" Good. Let her know he was mad.

"What are you doing here?"

"Well, after spending seven hours in your company and then getting dumped by my girlfriend, I decided I'd round off the perfect day with a trip here. What's your excuse?"

"I came here to see if it was any worse than working with you. Evidently it is, as you won't leave me alone!"

"My father's luckier than I thought. At least he doesn't have to put up with you."

"Shut the fuck up, Malfoy."

"Bitch."

"Stop stalking me."

"I have much better things to do than stalk weasels like you."

"Like what?" Ginny challenged, fuming. "Your own girlfriend got sick of you! Pansy must be smarter than I gave her credit for. No wonder no one likes you."

She pushed past him and stomped down the street. He stared after her.

How dare she insult him like that? How dare she?

Part of him, though, knew she was right.

"Weasley," he called.

"What?"

"You win."

She turned around, looking at him with contempt. "I win what?"

"You're right."

"You're crazy."

"Maybe."

Oddly enough, this was the closest that Draco Malfoy could come to a full apology.

***

Kick the door. Throw the plastic cup against the wall. Smack the tabletop. Punch furiously at the air, wishing that it was his face.

Why couldn't she get him out of her thoughts? When anyone else made her angry, she reacted coolly, never losing her temper. All she needed to get over it was to do something distracting, but everything she picked up she felt like ripping apart.

His face crowded her thoughts, those cold eyes stared into her even when he wasn't there.

God, those eyes.

Those eyes.

Stop it! You're obsessing over him, this isn't healthy!

She filled a glass with water and grabbed an ice cube tray from the freezer. Ice reminded her of his personality, and she threw it on the floor.

Ginny then realized that the people directly below her might not appreciate all this.

Too bad for them. That was how angry he made her, that she, one person, wasn't enough to contain it.

Suddenly an idea came to her and she started laughing hysterically, until she was gasping for air.

***

"Hello, Malfoy."

He grunted in response.

"I have an idea."

He didn't respond. He was busily deciphering some message or other, something her Auror skills didn't really help with.

"Well do you wanna hear it?"

"Not especially."

"Too bad."

He looked at her. "What do you want?"

"I want to call a truce."

He stared at her. "Are you insane, Weasley?"

"Quite so," she replied calmly. "And it's all your fault. Now humor me before I turn dangerous."

"All right, then, what sort of truce?"

"We stop insulting each other until we aren't required to spend time together anymore."

"All right."

She was surprised, but didn't show it. "And we also stop calling each other by our last names."

He gave her a disbelieving look.

"Weasley could be any one of my family, you know. Whereas you're the last Malfoy that I know of."

Draco restrained himself from telling her that perhaps no one thought her family was important enough to remember all of their names, then said, "Fine. Any more terms?"

"You shall not refer to me as Weasel, one of Harry Potter's rejects, or anything else of the sort. I will refrain from coming up with better insults in response." She giggled.

Draco stared.

"I told you, I've gone insane. A rather dangerous level of insanity. I have to buy new ice cube trays because of you." She laughed hysterically.

"All right. You want a truce?"

"Yes."

"Fine. We have a truce. But it only lasts as long as necessary."

"Of course." She hopped down from the windowsill where she'd been sitting. "Only as long as absolutely necessary."

Hopefully, that wouldn't be very long.

***

Draco settled into a routine. Wake up. Go to work. Not fight with Weas- Ginny. Go home.

With no Pansy in the picture, and no fights, his life grew rather monotonous. But slightly more pleasant than before, though he couldn't detect the source of this change.

Over the next three weeks, he and Ginny remained true to their promise not to insult each other. He found her a rather interesting person, when, for a few minutes at a time he forgot that she was a Weasley and he was a Malfoy and they were required, by tradition, to hate each other.

He was still cold. But he was beginning to thaw.

Ginny managed to calm down, stop throwing things every time she thought of him. He still made her incredibly angry, with his opinions and his apathy towards everything. It was as if he were an emotional void that couldn't ever be filled.
Although somehow the void had diminished. Not by much. He was still cold, still a complete slimy bastard. Or so Ginny told herself. And in some respects, she was right.

It was an early November morning when Ginny asked him, "Why were you in the cemetery that night?"

"I just ended up there."

"Isn't your father buried there?"

"Yes."

"Why isn't your mother?"

"Are you always so nosy?" But then he lied, "She's buried with her family. What were you doing there?"

Ginny paused a moment. "My brother, Charlie is buried there."

"The one who died fighting Voldemort?"

She looked surprised at the mention of the name, but nodded. "I was visiting a friend from Hogwarts, and passed by, and..." she shrugged.

Silence prevailed.

Disclaimer: Draco and Lucius Malfoy, Charlie and Ginny Weasley, Hogsmeade, Hogwarts, and anything else from the books HP related are J.K. Rowling's. I own Ginny's ice cube trays- or perhaps I shouldn't say that, so she doesn't come after me demanding I replace them.

Thanks: (I've always wanted to do a thanks section. Be afraid! Be VERY afraid!) Amanda Macini (you wanted more, you got it!), darker child (I agree; good Draco must die!) Princess of Mordor, Anya Malfoy, Katy Burrito (wow, you reviewed without reading! Most people do the opposite!), Water Sprite, otaku, Harry Potter chic, Meagan Malfoy, justinzgirl, laureli, Roxy Cherub (I Love Cassandra Claire's work!) Gemini Mari Finnalle, Figaro (I know how hard it is to put up with a ship you don't like- you rock!), Draco's Draca, and Gabrielle Landry.