Strong Enough
Summary: Ginny and Draco may just manage to be friends… in a bizarre kind of way. But can they be anything else?
Disclaimer: Yep, it still belongs to JKR.
Chapter Two:
Ginny was rudely awoken that evening to Ron, Hermione and Harry's not so quiet whispers.
"Quiet down, Ron!" Hermione was whispering loudly. "You'll wake her up!"
"Too late." Ginny said, without even opening her eyes.
"Oh, Gin, sorry. I tried to get them to shut up," Hermione began. Ginny sat up and finally looked around. Hermione was sitting on the end of her bed next to Ron, who was diligently consuming the chocolates he had brought for her. Harry was roaming around, seeming determined not to stand still for more than two seconds.
"Ron!" Ginny exclaimed, annoyed. "Must you do that?"
"What?" Ron mumbled, his mouth full. Hermione rolled her eyes indulgently, removing the box of chocolates from his grasp.
"So, Ginny, what happened?" Harry asked, finally speaking up.
"I'm not really sure." She said. "Everybody just suddenly jumped up when we won the game, and I suppose somebody must have accidentally pushed me." Ron's attention was immediately fixed, and she could see his face starting to go red, in preparation for the angry, protective big brother role. Not wanting to go through another of his overprotective tirades, she hastily added, "But it was an accident. I know whoever it was didn't mean to. I was just unlucky and lost my balance when I was jostled."
"What's this?" Hermione asked, interrupting her, to pick something up off the ground. Ginny felt her face flush as she realized it was Harry's card. She glanced over at Harry, to see he was looking rather awkward himself.
"A card I got from Harry" she said, reaching for it calmly. Hermione handed it over, raising a questioning eyebrow at Ginny, who pretended not to see.
Interesting developments… Hermione thought. That card looked mighty expensive. And Harry didn't tell us he'd gotten Ginny anything. Which doesn't necessarily mean he was hiding it on purpose – but it doesn't mean he wasn't, either. And then there was the fact that both Harry and Ginny were looking very uncomfortable at the moment. Wonder what it said inside? Yes, very interesting.
Madam Pomfrey, to Ginny's immense gratitude, chose that moment to appear, crossing over to the curtained off bed beside Ginny's.
"You three have five minutes left, then it's out." She ordered as she passed them, then disappeared behind the curtain.
"Who's in there?" Harry asked.
"Oh!" Ginny exclaimed. "Malfoy. It's strange. He was in there yesterday having a yelling competition with Madam Pomfrey, something about needing to talk to Dumbledore urgently. Sounded like he was in some kind of trouble."
"Hmm," said Harry thoughtfully. "Wonder what he's done?"
"Hope he gets expelled for it, whatever it is." Ron said viciously, voicing Ginny's own feelings on the matter.
Ginny decided to leave Malfoy's strange visit out of the conversation. Who knew what Ron would do if he heard that? And besides, it wasn't something she thought she should share.
"Have I missed anything while I've been here?" she asked, changing the subject.
"No, not really." Hermione told her. "You'll miss the victory celebration tonight, but apart from that, nothing interesting."
"Nothing interesting?" Harry repeated.
"Oh! I can't believe I almost forgot!" Hermione squealed most uncharacteristically, then promptly slapped her hand over her mouth, looking most appalled at herself.
"What?" Ginny asked, curious.
"Well, at dinner, ((A/N: I am forever obsessing over this: dinner, tea, supper, which country uses which terminology? Aak!)) Dumbledore made an announcement. Apparently we'll be having a dance for Christmas this year!"
"Oh, cool!" Ginny exclaimed, while her thoughts immediately turned to one thing and one thing only: Finding a date. Ugh. It was all very well and good for Hermione, who didn't need to worry, it was a given that she'd be going with Ron. But Ginny, on the other hand, either had to wait to be asked (which wasn't very likely to happen, she added to herself gloomily), or had to find the guts to ask a guy herself. The whole thing was actually rather painful.
"And it's only three months till Christmas!" Hermione continued, when she received no further encouragement from Ginny. "So little time! Harry and I are going to have so much work, organizing everything and they've left it till so late to tell us!"
Harry and Hermione were head boy and girl, something anyone could have seen coming from a mile away, and therefore in charge of the student council, which was in turn in charge of organizing the details of such events as Christmas dances.
"Okay, time's up! Out!" Ordered a the voice of Madam Pomfrey from behind them. Ron and Hermione quickly said their goodbyes, knowing only too well from past experience that when Madam Pomfrey said out she meant out.
Harry lingered a little longer, not noticeably, but enough so that he was last out the door, in time for him to pause and give her a smile as he left the room. It was so little a gesture, but Ginny was so used to reading Harry's expressions and actions. She had spent years watching him, and it wasn't for nothing, Ginny knew Harry better than he probably knew himself. She knew the glazed over, almost high sort of look he got when he'd just won a Quiddich game, or the way he constantly adjusted his glasses when he was nervous or just bored, she knew he was upset when his brow was slightly furrowed and he bit his lip lightly, she knew he was angry when he clenched his jaw and the muscles in his neck stood out. And most of all, she knew his smiles. The one he reserved purely for Ron and Hermione, that 'best friends forever' sort of smile. The smile he fixed on for adoring fans, meeting the famous Harry Potter for the first time. That fake smile he gave people when he was hurting but wanting to hide it. And finally, the smile he saved for his girl of the moment, the smile he had just given Ginny.
Grinning despite herself, Ginny relaxed back into the pillows, ready to weave complicated fantasies in her mind involving herself and Harry, late nights, and otherwise empty rooms. She was just getting started on a particularly good one involving Harry coming down to the common room in just a loosely tied dressing gown while Ginny was 'studying' when a voice interrupted her.
"Thank god that freak fest is over." The voice drawled.
Malfoy. Great.
She ignored him and focused intently on the image of Harry leaning over to help her with an Arithmancy problem, and his dressing gown falling precariously open, giving her full view of his very well defined chest.
"I thought I was going to be sick listening to the Dream Team's endless chatter. 'Ooh, Ron, do stop stuffing your ugly face with those chocolates so we can not-so-subtly hint around the subject of this romantic card Potty has brought Gin-Gin. If you manage to get your stupid head around that in the next month, maybe we can even manage a few vicious remarks about Malfoy, even though it's none of our business what he's doing here. And that's not all… we've still got to gossip about the Christmas ball! My head's getting dizzy already!'" Malfoy mocked in a nasty imitation of Hermione. "I mean, does she ever shut up?"
"Why don't you shut the hell up, Malfoy!" Ginny hissed at the bed next to her, giving up ignoring him.
Malfoy opened the curtain that had hidden him from her view, and lay down on his stomach facing her, head resting on his crossed arms. And he was still wearing only those damn red boxers.
"Damn, Weasley, I know you were raised in the gutter, but my sensitive ears aren't used to that sort of language." He sneered, taking the ever-familiar Poor-Weasley/Rich-Malfoy tack.
"Malfoy, for once in your life, can you get over your stupid shallow obsession with my family's financial situation! I don't see how the fact that my family actually has morals and doesn't resort to murdering and pillaging to gain fortune can be an insult against me!" Ginny finished, feeling quite proud of herself. She rarely managed to say exactly what she felt – the words seemed to get mangled somewhere between her brain and her mouth – but it had actually come out exactly how she'd wanted it this time. And Malfoy was looking considerably, well, she would have said shocked; but Malfoy didn't seem capable of displaying any emotion more intense than just mildly surprised.
"I'll ignore the fact that that was obviously a prepared speech, and okay, I will, for a while." Malfoy replied smoothly.
"You will what?" Ginny asked, confused.
"Get over my stupid shallow obsession with your family's financial situation, I believe is how you put it," Malfoy said with exaggerated exasperation.
"Oh." Was all Ginny could manage in reply.
"So…"
"So…"
Uncomfortable silence.
Apparently neither of them could think of anything they wanted to say to each other that wasn't an insult. The silence was suffocating, but there was no way she was going to be nice to Malfoy. He was just staring at her. And then, for the first time ever, Ginny noticed his eyes. Cloudy gray eyes that seemed to hold thousands of unspoken words and emotions, all brewing just below the surface. She could swear they were the most expressive eyes she'd ever seen. It didn't seem right that they belong to Malfoy; cruel, heartless, detached Malfoy.
"Well, Weasley, time's up. Looks like it's back to insults." His voice pulled her out of her thoughts.
"Stupid git." Ginny snapped automatically, and jumped up to put her own curtain between them.
"Goodnight." His voice called to her.
Ginny ignored him.
Frowning to herself, she crawled back into bed and tried to summon back the images of Harry. It failed miserably. After flipping through a few pages of the book Hermione had brought her, Ginny gave up and let herself fall asleep with Malfoy's expressive gray eyes dancing in her head.
~*~
Draco lay wide awake, staring blindly at the ceiling above his bed. He was used to not being able to sleep, he was often plagued by insomnia. Usually he occupied himself during the time, doing homework or reading or just wandering the halls. But Madam Pomfrey was checking on him every hour, so he had to stay here, and pretend to be asleep. He hadn't drunk the sleeping potion she'd given him. He'd rather not be out cold if something happened – not that it would, but Draco was never one to say never. Living in the Malfoy household did that to a person – he had learnt from a young age that rules were made to be broken, and to always expect the unexpected. There were a lot of other things Draco had learnt, including cruelty and prejudice, but these things he did not necessarily believe in. He did believe, however, that showing ones true nature or feelings was a weakness. He lived behind a mask, and it suited him just fine. Life went along much easier if you did as people expected you to do.
But tonight his thoughts were far from his wobbly morals. They were, instead, fixated on the Weasley girl. She was undeniably pretty, despite that horrific red hair and those nasty freckles, but what did that have to do with anything? Scowling darkly, he promised himself that he would be especially cruel to her tomorrow morning. Wouldn't want her to think he actually liked her or anything. He shuddered at the thought.
A/N: Whew! Thank god that's over! I had to force myself to finish that chapter. I'm not particularly happy with it, but damn, I don't care, at least it's finished! Just in case anybody cares, no, this isn't going to have any plot… I don't think… just D/G angsty/fluffy crap.
Summary: Ginny and Draco may just manage to be friends… in a bizarre kind of way. But can they be anything else?
Disclaimer: Yep, it still belongs to JKR.
Chapter Two:
Ginny was rudely awoken that evening to Ron, Hermione and Harry's not so quiet whispers.
"Quiet down, Ron!" Hermione was whispering loudly. "You'll wake her up!"
"Too late." Ginny said, without even opening her eyes.
"Oh, Gin, sorry. I tried to get them to shut up," Hermione began. Ginny sat up and finally looked around. Hermione was sitting on the end of her bed next to Ron, who was diligently consuming the chocolates he had brought for her. Harry was roaming around, seeming determined not to stand still for more than two seconds.
"Ron!" Ginny exclaimed, annoyed. "Must you do that?"
"What?" Ron mumbled, his mouth full. Hermione rolled her eyes indulgently, removing the box of chocolates from his grasp.
"So, Ginny, what happened?" Harry asked, finally speaking up.
"I'm not really sure." She said. "Everybody just suddenly jumped up when we won the game, and I suppose somebody must have accidentally pushed me." Ron's attention was immediately fixed, and she could see his face starting to go red, in preparation for the angry, protective big brother role. Not wanting to go through another of his overprotective tirades, she hastily added, "But it was an accident. I know whoever it was didn't mean to. I was just unlucky and lost my balance when I was jostled."
"What's this?" Hermione asked, interrupting her, to pick something up off the ground. Ginny felt her face flush as she realized it was Harry's card. She glanced over at Harry, to see he was looking rather awkward himself.
"A card I got from Harry" she said, reaching for it calmly. Hermione handed it over, raising a questioning eyebrow at Ginny, who pretended not to see.
Interesting developments… Hermione thought. That card looked mighty expensive. And Harry didn't tell us he'd gotten Ginny anything. Which doesn't necessarily mean he was hiding it on purpose – but it doesn't mean he wasn't, either. And then there was the fact that both Harry and Ginny were looking very uncomfortable at the moment. Wonder what it said inside? Yes, very interesting.
Madam Pomfrey, to Ginny's immense gratitude, chose that moment to appear, crossing over to the curtained off bed beside Ginny's.
"You three have five minutes left, then it's out." She ordered as she passed them, then disappeared behind the curtain.
"Who's in there?" Harry asked.
"Oh!" Ginny exclaimed. "Malfoy. It's strange. He was in there yesterday having a yelling competition with Madam Pomfrey, something about needing to talk to Dumbledore urgently. Sounded like he was in some kind of trouble."
"Hmm," said Harry thoughtfully. "Wonder what he's done?"
"Hope he gets expelled for it, whatever it is." Ron said viciously, voicing Ginny's own feelings on the matter.
Ginny decided to leave Malfoy's strange visit out of the conversation. Who knew what Ron would do if he heard that? And besides, it wasn't something she thought she should share.
"Have I missed anything while I've been here?" she asked, changing the subject.
"No, not really." Hermione told her. "You'll miss the victory celebration tonight, but apart from that, nothing interesting."
"Nothing interesting?" Harry repeated.
"Oh! I can't believe I almost forgot!" Hermione squealed most uncharacteristically, then promptly slapped her hand over her mouth, looking most appalled at herself.
"What?" Ginny asked, curious.
"Well, at dinner, ((A/N: I am forever obsessing over this: dinner, tea, supper, which country uses which terminology? Aak!)) Dumbledore made an announcement. Apparently we'll be having a dance for Christmas this year!"
"Oh, cool!" Ginny exclaimed, while her thoughts immediately turned to one thing and one thing only: Finding a date. Ugh. It was all very well and good for Hermione, who didn't need to worry, it was a given that she'd be going with Ron. But Ginny, on the other hand, either had to wait to be asked (which wasn't very likely to happen, she added to herself gloomily), or had to find the guts to ask a guy herself. The whole thing was actually rather painful.
"And it's only three months till Christmas!" Hermione continued, when she received no further encouragement from Ginny. "So little time! Harry and I are going to have so much work, organizing everything and they've left it till so late to tell us!"
Harry and Hermione were head boy and girl, something anyone could have seen coming from a mile away, and therefore in charge of the student council, which was in turn in charge of organizing the details of such events as Christmas dances.
"Okay, time's up! Out!" Ordered a the voice of Madam Pomfrey from behind them. Ron and Hermione quickly said their goodbyes, knowing only too well from past experience that when Madam Pomfrey said out she meant out.
Harry lingered a little longer, not noticeably, but enough so that he was last out the door, in time for him to pause and give her a smile as he left the room. It was so little a gesture, but Ginny was so used to reading Harry's expressions and actions. She had spent years watching him, and it wasn't for nothing, Ginny knew Harry better than he probably knew himself. She knew the glazed over, almost high sort of look he got when he'd just won a Quiddich game, or the way he constantly adjusted his glasses when he was nervous or just bored, she knew he was upset when his brow was slightly furrowed and he bit his lip lightly, she knew he was angry when he clenched his jaw and the muscles in his neck stood out. And most of all, she knew his smiles. The one he reserved purely for Ron and Hermione, that 'best friends forever' sort of smile. The smile he fixed on for adoring fans, meeting the famous Harry Potter for the first time. That fake smile he gave people when he was hurting but wanting to hide it. And finally, the smile he saved for his girl of the moment, the smile he had just given Ginny.
Grinning despite herself, Ginny relaxed back into the pillows, ready to weave complicated fantasies in her mind involving herself and Harry, late nights, and otherwise empty rooms. She was just getting started on a particularly good one involving Harry coming down to the common room in just a loosely tied dressing gown while Ginny was 'studying' when a voice interrupted her.
"Thank god that freak fest is over." The voice drawled.
Malfoy. Great.
She ignored him and focused intently on the image of Harry leaning over to help her with an Arithmancy problem, and his dressing gown falling precariously open, giving her full view of his very well defined chest.
"I thought I was going to be sick listening to the Dream Team's endless chatter. 'Ooh, Ron, do stop stuffing your ugly face with those chocolates so we can not-so-subtly hint around the subject of this romantic card Potty has brought Gin-Gin. If you manage to get your stupid head around that in the next month, maybe we can even manage a few vicious remarks about Malfoy, even though it's none of our business what he's doing here. And that's not all… we've still got to gossip about the Christmas ball! My head's getting dizzy already!'" Malfoy mocked in a nasty imitation of Hermione. "I mean, does she ever shut up?"
"Why don't you shut the hell up, Malfoy!" Ginny hissed at the bed next to her, giving up ignoring him.
Malfoy opened the curtain that had hidden him from her view, and lay down on his stomach facing her, head resting on his crossed arms. And he was still wearing only those damn red boxers.
"Damn, Weasley, I know you were raised in the gutter, but my sensitive ears aren't used to that sort of language." He sneered, taking the ever-familiar Poor-Weasley/Rich-Malfoy tack.
"Malfoy, for once in your life, can you get over your stupid shallow obsession with my family's financial situation! I don't see how the fact that my family actually has morals and doesn't resort to murdering and pillaging to gain fortune can be an insult against me!" Ginny finished, feeling quite proud of herself. She rarely managed to say exactly what she felt – the words seemed to get mangled somewhere between her brain and her mouth – but it had actually come out exactly how she'd wanted it this time. And Malfoy was looking considerably, well, she would have said shocked; but Malfoy didn't seem capable of displaying any emotion more intense than just mildly surprised.
"I'll ignore the fact that that was obviously a prepared speech, and okay, I will, for a while." Malfoy replied smoothly.
"You will what?" Ginny asked, confused.
"Get over my stupid shallow obsession with your family's financial situation, I believe is how you put it," Malfoy said with exaggerated exasperation.
"Oh." Was all Ginny could manage in reply.
"So…"
"So…"
Uncomfortable silence.
Apparently neither of them could think of anything they wanted to say to each other that wasn't an insult. The silence was suffocating, but there was no way she was going to be nice to Malfoy. He was just staring at her. And then, for the first time ever, Ginny noticed his eyes. Cloudy gray eyes that seemed to hold thousands of unspoken words and emotions, all brewing just below the surface. She could swear they were the most expressive eyes she'd ever seen. It didn't seem right that they belong to Malfoy; cruel, heartless, detached Malfoy.
"Well, Weasley, time's up. Looks like it's back to insults." His voice pulled her out of her thoughts.
"Stupid git." Ginny snapped automatically, and jumped up to put her own curtain between them.
"Goodnight." His voice called to her.
Ginny ignored him.
Frowning to herself, she crawled back into bed and tried to summon back the images of Harry. It failed miserably. After flipping through a few pages of the book Hermione had brought her, Ginny gave up and let herself fall asleep with Malfoy's expressive gray eyes dancing in her head.
~*~
Draco lay wide awake, staring blindly at the ceiling above his bed. He was used to not being able to sleep, he was often plagued by insomnia. Usually he occupied himself during the time, doing homework or reading or just wandering the halls. But Madam Pomfrey was checking on him every hour, so he had to stay here, and pretend to be asleep. He hadn't drunk the sleeping potion she'd given him. He'd rather not be out cold if something happened – not that it would, but Draco was never one to say never. Living in the Malfoy household did that to a person – he had learnt from a young age that rules were made to be broken, and to always expect the unexpected. There were a lot of other things Draco had learnt, including cruelty and prejudice, but these things he did not necessarily believe in. He did believe, however, that showing ones true nature or feelings was a weakness. He lived behind a mask, and it suited him just fine. Life went along much easier if you did as people expected you to do.
But tonight his thoughts were far from his wobbly morals. They were, instead, fixated on the Weasley girl. She was undeniably pretty, despite that horrific red hair and those nasty freckles, but what did that have to do with anything? Scowling darkly, he promised himself that he would be especially cruel to her tomorrow morning. Wouldn't want her to think he actually liked her or anything. He shuddered at the thought.
A/N: Whew! Thank god that's over! I had to force myself to finish that chapter. I'm not particularly happy with it, but damn, I don't care, at least it's finished! Just in case anybody cares, no, this isn't going to have any plot… I don't think… just D/G angsty/fluffy crap.