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JKR owns what you recognise. I own the plot. Fluff ahoy:)
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A silence as deafening as that of a tomb reverberated through his ear drums. His ribs were aching something fierce; a nasty reminder of the bludger during the second half of the quidditch match. She hadn't been there. He hadn't really expected her to be. But he'd searched the masses of people for that familiar flash of red hair. His preoccupation with finding her had resulted in the bludger in his side.

Unable to move or rest, he sighed and looked up at the dark ceiling.
He was stuck in a catch 22 situation, with no end in sight.
A secret relationship between them they only they knew about.
A Gryffindor and a Slytherin. Day and Night. It was something you read about in books. But it had really happened to him. To them.
Gryffindor had beaten Slytherin in the evening's quidditch match. The conquering team had gone to hogsmeade to celebrate their victory.
He was stuck in an infirmary.
She'd been waiting. Alone. For him.
A tear trickled down the milky white skin of his cheek and dripped on to the crisp linen pillow.
He'd be fine by morning.
She'd be gone.



.rewind. [24 hours earlier]

"Graduation's coming up."
"I guess."
A soft sigh.
"After that?" Her eyes don't move their gaze from the stars in the velvety blackness expanse of the sky.
His fingers gently entwine themselves with hers.
Silence.
"Draco?"
"I suppose I join my father."
Her hand moves away from his.
"And Voldemort too."
"I guess."
Her eyes fill with tears. She sits up suddenly, her expression telling nothing of the pounding in her heart.
"In stories, Draco, this is the part where you're supposed to tell me everything is going to be all right. That you'll follow what your heart says," a pause, "I guess I'm just a fairy tale believing dreamer...because this isn't the part where it's supposed to end." Her voice shook slightly in the evening breeze.
"I can't..."
"Can't what? Love me any more, Draco?"
He reaches out, and with one slender pale finger, strokes a strand of autmn-leaf red hair. She closes her eyes, pausing, and reflecting on how much she'd like to ignore everything and stay frozen in this exact moment forever.
"You know I can't stop loving you more, Virginia Weasley."
She shivers under his loving touch. He alone, calls her Virginia Weasley.
"But I can't deny being a Malfoy." His eyes blaze with something ancient, proud, but it quickly turns cold and bitter.
"I can't deny being Lucius' son."
His hand clutches hers. Her eyes open and meet his.
"Draco I know this isn't a fairy tale." Her voice has a twinge of frost. "Maybe this IS where it ends for us. Because I can't handle all of...this." She makes a small gesture with her free hand. "I can't handle everything."
And for a moment, being a Malfoy has nothing to do with anything anymore. All that matters is her. She holds a finger up against his soft cool lips and continues.
"But I'm asking you to make a choice. For me. Listen to your heart. You'll find your answer there. Make the right choice, my dragon. Tomorrow," She pauses and nods, "Tomorrow I'll wait, in the dungeons. After the quidditch match. Come and see me. And then make your decision. You can just walk away, Draco. Look me in the eye tomorrow evening, and tell me you're prepared to leave the things you've gained and walk away. And you can simply do that. No questions asked. That's all it takes. But if you decide to..." her baby doll lips curve upwards slightly, "There I go again getting all sentimental. I guess I'm just hoping...but I do want an answer. A stop sign, a pause button on this crazy free-fall we've thrown ourselves into. But then again," she tilts her head slightly, "Well, if I never see you again after now, this moment, here's to your tomorrows. Here's to you doing something to make us proud." She stands on her tip-toes and kisses his lips gently.
"Wh-what are you doing."
She shrugs.
"I'm not too sure either. So much for fancy speeches..." she smiles again, "Farewell until forever, Draco Malfoy." She turns and begins to walk off.
"I'll see you tomorrow night."
"That's in your hands. Goodnight." She blows a small kiss, walks away, and soon blends into the surrounding darkness.



.fast_forward. [11 years later]

"That was the last time I saw her."
"That's very sad..."
He's sitting in a coffee shop, thousand of miles away from where his story began. The story that has never been told to anyone. Not fully. But over the smokey warmth of the coffee, he'd felt compelled to tell this woman about the tragic tale which has haunted him ever since that fateful evening. He now stares into the depths of his empty mug, eyes not really focusing on anything.
"She died."
"Oh..."
"She killed herself. Because of me."



.rewind. [11 years ago]

A scream. A wave of voices.
"They found her hair ribbon and cloak in the lake."
"Ginny Weasley's killed herself!"
More crying.
Nothing seems to make sense, just a horrible clashing blur of colours.
He knows why. Why she did what she did.
And for a rare moment, he allows the tears to slip freely, without the will to hide them any longer. Curious faces shoot him curious glances.
Their first kiss.
Their first shared moment.
All memories.
He raises his finger tips to his lips.
Their last kiss.
He runs to the edge of the lake.
hisfault.hisfault.hisfault.

A memory...
......
"Here's to you doing something to make us proud."
......

He stands at the edge of the water, and raises his face to the dazzling brilliance of the
sun.

"I love you Virginia Weasley!" He sinks to the ground. Kneeling in the wet grass, and
cries, his robes soaking up water. A crowd behind him watches, astounded.
"And I'll live to make you proud." He whispers to the murky depths of the water...



.fast_forward. [11 years later]

"Did they ever..."
Somehow he knows what the woman means.
He shakes his head, and a lock of platinum sweeps over one eye. He gently brushes it back.
"No..." His voice is a choked whisper. "They never did find her body." He stares at the table now, its red formica surface swimming in his vision. "Her funeral was just for the sake of saying goodbye. I dedicated my whole life to her though. I went on and became something she'd be proud of. Something that turned on everything my father had planned. I became an auror."
"I know she'd be proud of that."
Wait. Hold on. Rewind.
"How do you know...?"
Nononononono.
But...this was a muggle cafe. He'd mentioned the word auror kind-of-sort-of casually, hoping it would just slip through the conversation.
She shrugs, and stares at her hands. He observes her.
"You know what? You remind me of her..." He looks up at her. Yes. She gave him a quiet, knowing look. No. Impossible. "You look so much like her..." But Virginia had splendid red hair...not dark and shoulder-lengthed. But that button nose...smooth cheek, and warm eyes.
She speaks now, and her voice...but...
"They say," she says softly, "That when the world was made, there were these souls. They were divided into two, and put into two different bodies. That's what soul mates are. People destined for each other. Do you believe in destiny, Draco?"
"How do you know my name?" A mystified expression on his face.
Oh please god, please don't let this be another let-down. Too many over too many years. False illusions.
She doesn't answer his question.
"So do you believe in miracles?"
"Yes." He says nervously. "I guess I do."
"Did you ever hear the fairy tale where there was that girl...the one who couldn't handle anything anymore? She staged her own death. She ran away from her pain and sorrow. But over the years, she watched her one and only love. Watched him do wonderful things."
"I-"
"What would you say if I said that girl was me?"
He looks intently at her.
"What would you say if I said I'm sorry I ever lost you, Virginia Weasley?"
"That I'm glad you've found me again."