It Can't be That Bad Chapter 5: Thank God It's Finally Over or The Ultimate Mangling of Draco, a harry potter fanfic

A/N: A very short chapter, but honestly, I'm suffering from a severe case of writer's block. I feel silly saying that because I don't think I qualify as a "writer" exactly, more of an "imitator" or something like that. Even more hastily coded than is usual. And bleh, I couldn't get this chapter right. I hate it. Draco is horrible, Ginny does things inexplicably, and Will has somehow drifted into nonexistence because I didn't know what to do with him. [Insert dejected sigh here, please.]

It's sad, really. If anyone thinks that something else should have been done (which it should have, I just can't figure out what), review and suggest something and I'll probably revise this chapter, as any ideas are better than none.

Yes, well. Happy Thanksgiving to you all, and review!
~clockwisevenus

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Harry yawned. He was starting to see why Snape had always been so grouchy during class. Even though he was only substituting for Professor Flitwick, Harry was mentally exhausted, and his next class was a group of Second Years, who always promised to be riotous during class. He hadn't been that disruptive when he was in his Second Year, had he? Sure, he and Ron had stirred up a ruckus in McGonagall's every now and then, and they had never paid attention in Divination, and there was that one time when he cast a Giggling Charm on Malfoy...

He heard approaching footsteps and sat up straight in his chair, aware that his break period was coming to a close. He quickly picked up a book and pretended to be reading it, not wanting any of his temporary students to think that he spent his free time dozing off and reminiscing about his own days at Hogwarts.

"Your book's upside-down," a familiar voice stated from the doorway, sounding somewhat bemused, but apprehensive as well.

"Ah," he said, setting it down and looking nervously at Ginny, who was leaning with feigned nonchalance against the door, her hand gripped so tightly around the door-handle that her knuckles were white. "So it is." He coughed. "Hello."

Ginny took a deep breath before stepping further into the room. "Hi." Then she continued without any regard for the consequences. "Have you talked to Draco?"

"I'm not supposed to tell you," he said honestly.

"He's been acting very odd lately," she said persistently. "He's always nervous and he doesn't talk to me as much..."

"It's just boy stuff, Gin," Harry shrugged.

She took another step toward Harry, her fists clenching nervously at her sides. "So it hasn't got anything to do with me?"

He hesitated, looking very sad for a moment before he concealed his emotions again and continued. "Well...it has to do with you, and it has to do with me, and it has to do with Malfoy. But I don't think that he'd like it if I told you."

Then she realized that she had been completely wrong about Draco and that he was exactly like everybody else.

"Thank you," she said, backing away and out the door. "I think that I'm going to kill him." Then she pivoted on her heel and stalked away, the retreating footsteps moving much more quickly than they had when they had been approaching.

For a moment, Harry considered stopping her. Then he remembered that he hated Malfoy and didn't want to help him in any way. Ginny being assuming and hacked off at him for something he didn't do was a good thing.

For Harry, anyway.

***

"Ginny?" Draco asked, entering her flat only to find that it had been thrown into utter chaos. "What the hell are you doing? Listen," he corrected himself, "there's something I've been meaning to tell--or," he paused. "There's something I've been meaning to ask--"

"Don't even start!" she screeched, throwing a pillow at him. "It makes me sick," she said, rushing about and throwing things into a duffel bag. "I'm ignored for five years, maybe more--second choice to Harry after Hermione left him because she had feelings for Ron that he's too stupid to figure out--had you forgotten about that?

"Then when I finally get what I want and think everything's going to be fine, Harry dumps me on a boyish whim, and while I try to forget him, everyone I care about is trying to make me remember! Everyone is still up and waiting for me to get married to bloody Harry, just like everyone's waiting for Ron to propose to Hermione.

"After that I travel here to get away from it all and find you, looking like some sort of perfect porcelain angel that's come down from heaven just for me, somehow strangely transformed into something with a somewhat human personality, and for a while acting like you really care about me--and do you know, you had me convinced for some time that you did care--but I've discovered that you're no different than my mum and all six of my brothers and all the friends I've ever thought I've had, waiting for me to marry Harry Potter.

"And do you know what?" she said, by now on the verge of tears as she unfastened the necklace he had given her and dropped it into his open hand. "If it'll make everyone shut up and leave me the bloody hell alone, I might as well do it. Hell," she whispered, her voice tremulous as her tongue tripped over her words, "nobody else is asking me, and I'll only live once."

Then she disappeared, and Draco was left standing with no clue what the hell she had been going on about. He didn't want her to marry Potter. He wanted her to marry him.

And bloody hell, now he had to go and keep her from doing something rash.

***

An hour and a half later, Ginny was sighing, her knees pulled up to her chest; drawing idly in the dust on the path in front of the steps she was sitting on.

She had seen Draco walking down the path from afar, looking horribly out of place among the dust and the grass and the open country in his pristine black robes, but she had chosen not to say anything until he had said something to her. She was going to do this properly. "Nice house," he commented, approaching and looking up at the Burrow as if he was making an inspection.

"Shut up," she said, not looking up. "I'm angry with you. You're also late."

He smiled. "Technically, I should be the one angry with you, what with the going on about me wanting you to marry Potter--which is absurd, by the way--and anyway, I had to find out where you lived. Then I had to Apparate to Diagon Alley and take the Knight Bus. It took a while for them to get here, so I threatened to Hex the conductor."

"You didn't," she said blandly, knowing that he did.

"Well, I ended up not having to follow through. I thought your plan was to rush home and get Potter to marry you before I got here. I see you're still unwed."

Ginny frowned up at him. "He wasn't home," she said tersely.

"Ah," he said equably, and reached into his pocket to pull out the necklace that she had returned. "You might be wanting this back."

She sighed and held her hands out, but along with the pendant and chain fell another object. Picking it up to examine it, she realized that it was a ring. Thin and perfect, it glinted in the light. "What's this for?" she asked.

Draco merely shoved his hands into his pockets and looked terribly abashed. If Draco had been the type to blush, he would have been beet red. "You," he said, sitting down next to her.

"I'm not sure I understand--"

"Bloody hell, Ginny, do you want to marry me or not?"

She turned to look at him, examining his expression. He feigned anger, of course, but there was a veiled anxiety in the grey of his eyes. "You're not very good at this, are you?" she asked, wanting to deliver one more barb before she relented.

He smiled, recognizing the humour behind her annoyed tone. "It's my first time, so you'll have to excuse me."

"Draco," Ginny said, collapsing dramatically in his arms, "you do realize that my parents are going to kill me when I marry you. And Ron's going to kill you."

"Why won't he kill you?"

Ginny giggled, squeezing him around his waist. "He'll have had locked me up in St. Mungo's Ward for the Mentally Ill by then."

There was a drawn out pause. "So that's a yes, then?"

She smiled, closing her eyes and relaxing into him. "I suppose so."

"Mmm," he said, stretching his legs out and crossing them at the ankles, one of his hands finding its way around her waist while the other patted her hair. "Then I think I can live with the death threats from your parents."

"Yeah," she agreed. "Me too."

^*^*^*^ THE OBLIGATORY QUOTE BOX IS EMPTY. BE SAD.