Legend
Chapter VIII: Pensive
by Marie McKinnon
Draco sat in front of the fire, allowing the flickering flames to create shadows across his
face. Though he seemed focused on the blaze, his eyes didn't see it at all. His eyes saw two
figures, not in the fire, but in his mind, that transferred the fire from the hearth to his heart.
Harry and Ginny. Draco could tell Harry was convincing himself that Ginny was his girl,
but he also knew that Ginny might melt for the Boy Who Lived eventually. That couldn't
happen. He wouldn't let it. Harry didn't deserve her whatsoever, after all the years she'd liked
him and he'd consistently ignored her. Now it was a complete role reversal; she was the
cherished prize, but wouldn't have him for anything he could give. Draco laughed at his rival's
dilemma. Harry could keep his pain, but not 'his' girl.
She was perfect. Not the dream-girl, but pretty close. There was power behind those
innocent fawn's eyes, power that wasn't just physical. He'd never seen her use magic, but was
willing to bet she could beat the rest of her class hollow. Powerful, calm, gorgeous-- those
weren't exactly Gryffindor qualities. They weren't Weasley qualities either, if you judged by her
older brother. He was the least calm in the whole school, if it came to that, so how did she get to
have such composure? However she got it, that power mixed with that composure was a deadly
combination. Like an invisible enemy. You could never tell where it would strike.
He didn't need to dwell on her beauty, because he was now so familiar with it. Calm,
clear, powerful eyes, flaming curls usually in a ponytail, a full mouth just waiting to be kissed,
and an amazing figure. She was dead sexy, but she was dangerous. He had to be on his toes
when he was near her, or he would be on his back on the ground.
He was now familiar with that position. The private fitness coaching had seemed like an
unbelievably wonderful chance, but he had started hoping that Ginny would help Madam
Pomfrey with anti-soreness presses and spells. He needed them much too often after her lessons.
Of course, she taught him how to throw her, but he never could bring himself to do it. All Draco
wanted to do was stand there, touching her, until his skin scorched with the shocks he absorbed
from her fingertips.
Fingertips-- that reminded him. Could she have seen the silvery glow hovering above her
skin that night at the beginning of the year? Was that why he reacted to her? That could be the
inexplicable sense of power she radiated. But she wouldn't answer him if he asked. It was
obvious. Still, he needed to know, and badly, because maybe her dreams were clearer than his
were and didn't just involve some girl. He would hope her dreams didn't involve some girl, at
any rate. Draco was measurably positive that her dreams didn't involve girls because he was
sure he'd seen her playing up to some of the other boys in the school. Of course, they had been
too busy staring at her to notice, but it counted.
He, Harry, and Ginny had to be connected somehow. Just the sight of Harry annoyed
him. It wasn't hatred, or even dislike. It was rivalry, pure and simple. They were contending for
the same girl, and eventually one of them would win and one would lose. He could have related
his situation to a thousand stories and legends, except for one fact. Ginny didn't seem to be
biased towards either one. She was completely indifferent, or at least acted like it, which gave
him a headache. None of the stories he knew involved a completely indifferent girl being fought
over by two boys, which made it much harder to think of the roles they were supposed to be
playing. There were roles to be played, but what actor is any good without a script? He would
just have to ad lib along until he figured it out.
Disclaimer: Hello again. I got Amarria's review, which, basically just said "Post more now!"
and decided to do that.
Chapter VIII: Pensive
by Marie McKinnon
Draco sat in front of the fire, allowing the flickering flames to create shadows across his
face. Though he seemed focused on the blaze, his eyes didn't see it at all. His eyes saw two
figures, not in the fire, but in his mind, that transferred the fire from the hearth to his heart.
Harry and Ginny. Draco could tell Harry was convincing himself that Ginny was his girl,
but he also knew that Ginny might melt for the Boy Who Lived eventually. That couldn't
happen. He wouldn't let it. Harry didn't deserve her whatsoever, after all the years she'd liked
him and he'd consistently ignored her. Now it was a complete role reversal; she was the
cherished prize, but wouldn't have him for anything he could give. Draco laughed at his rival's
dilemma. Harry could keep his pain, but not 'his' girl.
She was perfect. Not the dream-girl, but pretty close. There was power behind those
innocent fawn's eyes, power that wasn't just physical. He'd never seen her use magic, but was
willing to bet she could beat the rest of her class hollow. Powerful, calm, gorgeous-- those
weren't exactly Gryffindor qualities. They weren't Weasley qualities either, if you judged by her
older brother. He was the least calm in the whole school, if it came to that, so how did she get to
have such composure? However she got it, that power mixed with that composure was a deadly
combination. Like an invisible enemy. You could never tell where it would strike.
He didn't need to dwell on her beauty, because he was now so familiar with it. Calm,
clear, powerful eyes, flaming curls usually in a ponytail, a full mouth just waiting to be kissed,
and an amazing figure. She was dead sexy, but she was dangerous. He had to be on his toes
when he was near her, or he would be on his back on the ground.
He was now familiar with that position. The private fitness coaching had seemed like an
unbelievably wonderful chance, but he had started hoping that Ginny would help Madam
Pomfrey with anti-soreness presses and spells. He needed them much too often after her lessons.
Of course, she taught him how to throw her, but he never could bring himself to do it. All Draco
wanted to do was stand there, touching her, until his skin scorched with the shocks he absorbed
from her fingertips.
Fingertips-- that reminded him. Could she have seen the silvery glow hovering above her
skin that night at the beginning of the year? Was that why he reacted to her? That could be the
inexplicable sense of power she radiated. But she wouldn't answer him if he asked. It was
obvious. Still, he needed to know, and badly, because maybe her dreams were clearer than his
were and didn't just involve some girl. He would hope her dreams didn't involve some girl, at
any rate. Draco was measurably positive that her dreams didn't involve girls because he was
sure he'd seen her playing up to some of the other boys in the school. Of course, they had been
too busy staring at her to notice, but it counted.
He, Harry, and Ginny had to be connected somehow. Just the sight of Harry annoyed
him. It wasn't hatred, or even dislike. It was rivalry, pure and simple. They were contending for
the same girl, and eventually one of them would win and one would lose. He could have related
his situation to a thousand stories and legends, except for one fact. Ginny didn't seem to be
biased towards either one. She was completely indifferent, or at least acted like it, which gave
him a headache. None of the stories he knew involved a completely indifferent girl being fought
over by two boys, which made it much harder to think of the roles they were supposed to be
playing. There were roles to be played, but what actor is any good without a script? He would
just have to ad lib along until he figured it out.
Disclaimer: Hello again. I got Amarria's review, which, basically just said "Post more now!"
and decided to do that.