(Disclaimer: I still got nothin' on Miss Rowling...but, yeah, the pairing was mine. Whoo.)
I searched the room for a flash of redhair.
It wasn't there.
I heard a sigh from somewhere.
It didn't occur to me that it had come from myself.
Well, it did when Pansy Parkinson spun on her heal, and looked at me.
Let me justify the scene: I was walking with Parkinson and all the Slytherin girls.
All admired me.
I know that for a fact, even though they don't think I do.
I'm not calling myself a god, or anything.
But girls flock to me.
Lucius, oh, my great father Lucius, (For your goddamn information, that was sarcasm) says it's the good old Malfoy charm.
Why doesn't it work on the Little Weasley, then?
She looks past me, and I look past her.
That's the way it works.
That's the way it has to be.
But, I can't help but ask myself, if Ginny were to look at me properly, what would she see?
She'd see the pale-haired little git I am made out to be...
...Or would she?
If Lucius were here, he'd say that it's not proper to question the way things have been.
But with one word, with one scentance, I can make myself seem good.
I'm afraid, though.
What Lucius would do if he ever found out...
I shuddered.
Parkinson looked at me again.
"Are you allright, Draco?"
"Yes, fine, Pansy."
I smile.
I bet she can tell it's fake.
I know she can, for a fact.
It's strange; all of the Slytherins are really...
...Nice.
I'm not sure about all Slytherins, but a few of us are okay.
When we let it show.
I know Pansy is.
I heard her sobbing in her room the other night.
I've seen the way she looks at George Weasley.
How her heart brakes when he goes off with some other girls...
...But she has to put up that mean front, because she knows he'll never like her.
She doesn't really look like a pug, she used to be really nice looking.
I knew her when she was five, she was a carefree little innocent, no idea about Voldemort, any of this bad bussiness.
But that's beside the point.
Back to reality.
Back to the same old, same old.
Stupid.
-----------------------------------------------------
Ginny glanced sideways at Malfoy. He was being flocked around by those Slytherin girls, in black and dark green. The only reason
she saw this 'unpleasantness' is because Harry was beyond Malfoy. But, surprisingly, she caught Malfoy glancing at her.
Her eyes widened.
The look on his face was one of such sadness, such wanting, and then there was something that she couldn't catch. She wanted to look away.
But she couldn't.
She watched his own pale eyes widen in surprise, such surprise she'd have thought that a thousand firecrabs had just charged him
down unexpectantly. She searched for Harry once again. She pretended not to notice Malfoy, who was looking at her openly now.
"He's just trying to think of some sort of insult to hurl at me." So, she looked away.
But she couldn't get over that look...that look of such unselfish love..
She didn't think she ever would.
******************************************************
She looked at me.
She really looked.
With those eyes, full of love.
But then, I realise, she was looking for Potter.
I look back to see if Potter returned her aimer glance.
He was too busy looking, hell, gaping at Cho Chang.
There was a girl, right there, that loved him so plainly.
So openly.
I didn't want Potter to have happiness, but I wanted The Littlest Weasley to be happy, at the very least.
Even if it's not me.
Because she means the world to me.
And I don't want her to get mixed up with a man like me.
I don't want her to be connected at all with the Dark Order.
I want her to go on, with the happiness, with the laughter that'll never cease.
I want something better than me for her.
I searched the room for a flash of redhair.
It wasn't there.
I heard a sigh from somewhere.
It didn't occur to me that it had come from myself.
Well, it did when Pansy Parkinson spun on her heal, and looked at me.
Let me justify the scene: I was walking with Parkinson and all the Slytherin girls.
All admired me.
I know that for a fact, even though they don't think I do.
I'm not calling myself a god, or anything.
But girls flock to me.
Lucius, oh, my great father Lucius, (For your goddamn information, that was sarcasm) says it's the good old Malfoy charm.
Why doesn't it work on the Little Weasley, then?
She looks past me, and I look past her.
That's the way it works.
That's the way it has to be.
But, I can't help but ask myself, if Ginny were to look at me properly, what would she see?
She'd see the pale-haired little git I am made out to be...
...Or would she?
If Lucius were here, he'd say that it's not proper to question the way things have been.
But with one word, with one scentance, I can make myself seem good.
I'm afraid, though.
What Lucius would do if he ever found out...
I shuddered.
Parkinson looked at me again.
"Are you allright, Draco?"
"Yes, fine, Pansy."
I smile.
I bet she can tell it's fake.
I know she can, for a fact.
It's strange; all of the Slytherins are really...
...Nice.
I'm not sure about all Slytherins, but a few of us are okay.
When we let it show.
I know Pansy is.
I heard her sobbing in her room the other night.
I've seen the way she looks at George Weasley.
How her heart brakes when he goes off with some other girls...
...But she has to put up that mean front, because she knows he'll never like her.
She doesn't really look like a pug, she used to be really nice looking.
I knew her when she was five, she was a carefree little innocent, no idea about Voldemort, any of this bad bussiness.
But that's beside the point.
Back to reality.
Back to the same old, same old.
Stupid.
-----------------------------------------------------
Ginny glanced sideways at Malfoy. He was being flocked around by those Slytherin girls, in black and dark green. The only reason
she saw this 'unpleasantness' is because Harry was beyond Malfoy. But, surprisingly, she caught Malfoy glancing at her.
Her eyes widened.
The look on his face was one of such sadness, such wanting, and then there was something that she couldn't catch. She wanted to look away.
But she couldn't.
She watched his own pale eyes widen in surprise, such surprise she'd have thought that a thousand firecrabs had just charged him
down unexpectantly. She searched for Harry once again. She pretended not to notice Malfoy, who was looking at her openly now.
"He's just trying to think of some sort of insult to hurl at me." So, she looked away.
But she couldn't get over that look...that look of such unselfish love..
She didn't think she ever would.
******************************************************
She looked at me.
She really looked.
With those eyes, full of love.
But then, I realise, she was looking for Potter.
I look back to see if Potter returned her aimer glance.
He was too busy looking, hell, gaping at Cho Chang.
There was a girl, right there, that loved him so plainly.
So openly.
I didn't want Potter to have happiness, but I wanted The Littlest Weasley to be happy, at the very least.
Even if it's not me.
Because she means the world to me.
And I don't want her to get mixed up with a man like me.
I don't want her to be connected at all with the Dark Order.
I want her to go on, with the happiness, with the laughter that'll never cease.
I want something better than me for her.