Author Name: artificially
flavoured
Author Email: scarred_lipgloss@hotmail.com
Category: Drama, Romance
Keywords: Ginny Weasley, Draco Malfoy.
Spoilers: PS/SS, CoS, PoA, GoF [Just in case. Vague references to the Triwizard
Competition, Cedric Diggory, the Chamber of Secrets, Buckbeak and Sirius's
escape as well as the Philosophers Stone will be made.]
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Depressed! Ginny and Guilty! Draco. A selection on P.O.V's which
take you on a journey of tears, pain and laughter [i hope]. A tale of pain and
of healing. A tale about believing. A tale of strength overcoming all odds and a
story of loving and loosing. And of loving again. R/R
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created by
J.K
Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books,
Scholastic Books and Raincoast books, and Warner Brothers. No money is being
made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Authors Notes: Heya! This as you know is a Draco/Ginny fic [or you
wouldn't be here, now would you?]. Just an inspiration off all you amazing HP
fanfic authors out there. Forgive me if this isn't too good. Please Read/Review,
Flames will be sent to my brother :) Constructive Criticism appreciated
:) Please do email me if there are any doubts and please, please, please
do review. If ff.net is being a cow, email me w/ your review, it would really
mean a lot and of course I'm always up for a discussion, do add me on msn if you
please [same as email addie] or yahoo messenger, my id is diagonalley86 All the italicized sentences are thoughts of the character. :) Enjoy the ride people. Fasten your seatbelts, its gonna be a bumpy one.
by artificially flavoured
Chapter One: The Stars Shine Down
The stars shine down
And watch us live
Our little lives
And weep for us.
-Monet Nodlehs
Christmas, a time of celebration and joy, of happiness and good cheer. What a joke. I'm sure as hell not happy and I'm not bloody celebrating either. I swirled the drink around the ice in my glass and I contemplated upon the irony of it all. Me. Virginia Ayn Weasley all alone on Christmas Eve in a muggle bar. Me. Virginia Ayn Weasley the only daughter of the Weasley family, all alone on Christmas Eve.
Christmas may not be celebrated with as much pomp and show in the wizarding world as it is in its muggle counterpart, but it is a time for 'family bonding' and 'giving and receiving'. Traditional Weasley Christmases were spent with The Burrow being expanded to its full potential to accommodate the Weasley family and friends. It starts the night before Christmas Eve, with the extended Weasley clan coming in and settling down in the house. Everyone from Auntie Margaret, to Uncle Ben, who isn't really our uncle, but we call him Uncle Ben anyway. Mum would be baking and cooking all the next day with Aunties Tara, Mistletoe [yes, seriously!], Ali and Katherine, while Auntie Mary will hold court in the living room. She isn't really related to us, but married Uncle John [who is dad's brother] and so is now part of our family.
All the assorted Weasley kids are usually running around causing trouble. I always felt left out, even though I was doted upon by all the adults and all the older Weasley brothers and cousins. Surprisingly, I was the only girl in the Weasley clan at that point of time. I hadn't been to our traditional Weasley Christmas ever since my second year because Ron was staying to be with Harry and I really wanted to be a part of something, to feel like I belonged. I hadn't been to a Weasley family dinner in ages. And, then towards the end of my last year at Hogwarts, I went to a Weasley dinner. Watching everyone around me getting on with their lives, everyone making plans on how to help the 'light side' and how to defeat He –Who – Must – Not – Be – Named and leaving me out as usual has never hurt me so much. I don't look for attention, but I need it. I need to know that I am loved and that I am needed. I need to be understood, but noone does. They do love me. I do not doubt that, but they do not understand me. Noone has. I sound melodramatic when I say that, but it is true, noone has ever understood me, except for Tom Riddle. But, I don't want to think about that again.
I felt a cold rush of air around me and I heard the howling wind outside and had a glimpse of the falling snow as I turned around to see what was happening. I watched as the tall, lean and broad shouldered man stood on the threshold hesitating. As he stepped into the bar and the door slammed shut behind him, he took off the hooded black anorak and shook his platinum blonde hair free of the snow.
Realization hit me. Hard. My alcohol numbed brain finally figured out who he was. I quickly turned around and sat with my back to him. I didn't need him to see me. I didn't need to see him. I downed the swirling red whisky and I sat down to try and avoid the person who had made my brother's life at school hell.
Draco Malfoy. He used to be a ferret faced, skinny, pale kid when I was in my 3rd year. I hadn't really started to notice boys yet, well except Harry, but that was because he was the first boy who had been accepted by my brothers. And well, he was Harry Potter. I remember Draco Malfoy and his sneering comments when my well meaning friends sent Harry the valentine that was supposedly, from me. I remember the way he picked on Hermione and called her 'mudblood' and the way he always referred to our family's financial situation. Then, suddenly, towards the
end of my fourth year, I noticed how quiet Draco Malfoy had become. No jeering remarks in the school corridors, no sneering comments and insults. He'd stopped hanging out with Crabbe and Goyle and almost all the Slytherin's. He was a loner. And sometimes I felt I could relate, but he wasn't part of my life, I didn't really care about him after all he'd said. In my fifth year, I remember walking into my dorm room to find half the girls in my Gryffindor year group drooling over some muggle photographs Colin Creevey had taken.
'Who are you girls drooling over now?' I asked
'Promise you won't tell Ginny?' Persephone Clearwater asked, her face tinged with pink
'Cross my heart and hope to die' I answered dully
'Draco Malfoy'
and the whole room dissolved into exclamations of ooh's and ahhh's while I started to giggle. That stopped them from drooling over Malfoy. The giggles soon turned into helpless laughter at the look on their faces. They stared at me like I was nuts. I just started to laugh harder, and then I snorted and the whole room burst into laughter.
When I finally calmed down enough and I trusted myself to speak without having a fit of laughter I said
'Draco Malfoy? The sixth year, muggle hating, ferret faced snob?'
'Oh! Ginny! You just don't notice anyone except Harry, does she girls?'
I cringed as everyone nodded and voiced their agreement. Harry Potter was now another member of my extended family, like another brother. I finally worked up the courage to talk to him over the summer holidays before my fourth year and I realized he was just another human being and that sweet he may be, but he was just Harry.
'And anyway, I think the whole Bad Boy reputation Draco has adds to the appeal.'
'Yeah! And he's so witty and has this whole 'lost-boy-look' that I just makes me want to walk over and wipe off'
'Oh! You noticed it too? He's so gorgeous and so, so, sexy!'
I mentally shot myself and walked out.
I sighed. Looking at him through the corner of my eye and slightly turning my head I could see what they were talking about. He was gorgeous, with fine platinum blonde hair and steel gray eyes that almost looked silver at times. He was tall. The 6'4 kind. He was slightly built and had an amazing butt. I giggled. I can't believe I'm sitting at a muggle bar checking Draco Malfoy out. I felt the laughter bubble up in me, but then I realized I didn't have enough energy to actually laugh. I smiled and I yawned. I was so tired. All I wanted to do was lie down and sleep. But I didn't have the energy to get up and hail a broom-taxi. I couldn't apparate home, because at the state I was in, I'd probably splinch myself. Floo Powder was out of the question, I'd probably end up somewhere I'm not meant to be. And anyway, it'd look a little odd, if I whistled and tapped my wand and a broomstick showed up, the Muggles would probably have a fit. And if I suddenly disappeared they'd probably be screaming about alien invasions. And if I suddenly jumped into the fire? My head was starting to get heavier and my eyes were blurry. My ears buzzed and I gave up and slumped against the table. Just a couple of minutes I said to myself, just a couple of minutes and I'll take a walk to clear my head and then hail a broomstick.
It was a dark night. Cold, gray and unfeeling. The wind howled and the trees trembled. It was almost deserted at that late hour. All the kids tucked into bed, their parents locking up.
I snorted. Ironic really, my life had never been like that. Mentally, I smiled at the image of my father, Lucius Malfoy, reading me a bedtime story and kissing me goodnight. I would have laughed out loud if it weren't for such a cruel image of everything I had lacked in my childhood- love.
I don't know what I was doing out on Christmas Eve. I was
feeling restless that evening. I didn't want to sit in an uncomfortable chair in uncomfortable bright green robes, which totally cramped my style and listen to another death eater meeting. Mother is almost always found in her chambers when father brings around some of his 'friends'.
I shook my head slowly. When will father and his 'friends' realize that this is a war in vain? That these deaths are totally pointless? A rising death toll, in not a war that is won, it's pointless. It's been going on for ages, this war has.
It started at the end of my 4th
year at Hogwarts, when Potter escaped after my father's master killed Diggory. I
remember sitting there forcing myself to look calm and uncaring. It wasn't very
hard. I'd been doing it for the past 9 years of my life anyway. I remember listening to Crabbe and Goyle talking about how they were going to kill Potter and how 'he-who-must-not-be-named' would be eternally grateful to them.
What a bunch of dumbarses. I still don't know what possessed me to hang out with them. I lied. I do know.
I was a failure all my life, or so I'd been brought up to think. My father thought I was a weak, puny little thing. My father is a drunk bastard. And he always will be.
My mother didn't care. Sometimes I think she is permanently high. All she cared about was the family name. I don't think she even wanted me as a child. She probably considered me a 'duty'.
Noone wanted to hang out with a 'death eater's kid'. I'd been rejected all my life. I wasn't allowed to play with the kids at the wizarding nursery when I was a child because they weren't 'blue blooded enough'. I was given everything I desired, except love.
My father is a manipulating, spineless, selfish bastard. I've always hated him. I think I always will. He sold his family for power. He produced me because the dark lord ordered him to. He wanted a pureblood heir, and as he was too weak to produce one, why not Lucius Malfoy? His most devoted follower and a pure blood to boot.
I am nothing to my father, except a pawn in his game for power. I don't think I'll ever be anything else. He wanted the dark lord to be proud of him. He didn't want to be proud of me. He wanted me to excel at everything I did so that the dark lord would be proud of his 'heir'. He used the cane on me when I was 10 because I didn't run fast enough when he was after me. Sometimes I think I was a game constructed for his perverted pleasure. I think he liked the thought of having the power to frighten me and make me cry.
Once, just before I got my acceptance letter to Hogwarts, he summoned me to his chambers. He was drunk and had just had a meeting. He told me to get down on my knees and proclaim him to be my master. I refused.
I was never as proud of myself ever again. He slapped me and then caned me. I stood there and refused to let even a flicker of emotion cross my face. I refused to bow down. He finally gave up on me. It was Christmas Eve 8 years ago.
Memories of that night overwhelmed me. The house was filled with the same maniacal sort of energy, it was frighteningly disgusting. I knew Dumbledore would have wanted me there to report on their activities, but I couldn't force myself to stay there without doing or saying something stupid. I just needed a break from it all.
Which is why I was out on Christmas Eve.
I was tired. I didn't want to walk anymore, and I didn't want to think of memories long forgotten and long buried. It was cold as well. The snow was getting thicker and it was getting harder to walk. The wind was howling around my ears and it will soon become a snowstorm.
I looked around, everything was carpeted in snow an inch think. Before me there stood a wood cabin with the words 'the Savoy bar' engraved onto a sign hanging above the door. I stifled my laughter and walked in.
I removed my anorak and shook my hair free on the snow. It was nice and warm in here. The atmosphere was welcoming, and yet not intrusive. I ordered a drink and sat down at an empty table and surveyed my surroundings.
I think it would surprise most people to think that Dumbledore trusted a Slytherin who was the son of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's most devoted follower. I was forced to walk in the hated shadow of my father since I was born. I was Draco Edward Malfoy, son of Lucius Malfoy, heir to the dark lord. I chose the right path in the end. I chose not to follow my fathers shadow when I was 15. Finally. I pushed myself to excel at everything, I even caught the snitch first
to beat Potter. I even beat Granger at Muggle Studies. I was named Head Boy,
much to everyone's surprise and disgust. I didn't care. Father was proud of himself. He thought it was because of him. He needs another think.
Father thinks I hate Potter and Granger and all the Weasleys. He has never been so wrong.
I don't hate them. I am just envious of what they have. Potter doesn't even have
to try, he's accepted anywhere he goes and is naturally good at everything. He
doesn't have to try to be good like the rest of us mere mortals, it comes to him
naturally. As does bravery; he does what he has to, it might be stupid, but he
is brave, because he doesn't know how not to be. The thing I am most envious
about is that his parents LOVED him. Nobody loves me. Granger's a brilliant witch. She didn't even have to try to fit in, even though she's a mudblood, everyone's just accepted her and they love her, despite her bossiness and her constant worry about her grades. The Weasley's, they have in their family what I will never have. We have more money than we could ever use, but we don't have any sort of affection for each other. Sometimes I think we are called blue blooded because we're too cold to be called red. The Weasley's might be poor but they really love each other. They all stand up for each other and they care about each other. That's why I always rub their financial status in. That's why I always pick on them. Because they have something I desperately want. But, someone shoot me if I were to tell them that!
It wasn't hard to dislike them. They were like the 3 stooges. Always so happy, always so proud and so good. Sometimes I hated them with a passion. But, now, I know it was a grudging respect for someone who wasn't afraid to make their decisions and stand by them. I didn't want to respect them. I picked on them constantly in the hope that they would mess up somehow. I had to keep up the pretense that it was because I hated them. Father had spies everywhere. I was not safe.
I sighed and shook my head. I downed the fiery red liquid and looked around. There weren't a lot of people around. Just a couple that reminded me sickeningly of Seamus Finnegan and Lavender Brown, when they were dating, way back, in 5th year. And there was a young woman sitting by herself in a well lit corner.
What is 'she' doing here? I wasn't mistaken. I knew it was her, knew that for a fact. No one. No muggle or witch had that particular shade of red that the Weasley's had. It was a mixture of red, gold, burgundy and even… purple, almost every shade of red imaginable. The light bounced off her thick, curly, long and wild mane of hair which flowed freely down her back.
What was she doing here? Why wasn't she at the Burrow? Celebrating Christmas with her family? What was she doing here? Gazing at the fire, lost in thought? Was she meeting someone here? It was a little strange, to see the youngest Weasel here, by herself. She was very popular at Hogwarts and I remember Crabbe and Blaise drooling all over her at the end of our 6th year.
'What's that you two are looking at?' I questioned settling down in the chair by the fire and biting on an apple.
'Just this Gryffindor chick with red hair in 5th year'
I snorted. 'A Gryffindor? What's wrong Blaise? Pansy not keeping you happy? Who is she anyway?'
'Ginny Weasley'
I choked. Virginia Weasley. These two blundering idiots wanted Virginia Weasley? She wouldn't look twice at those two, and if they even tried to talk to her, her brothers would beat the crap out of 'em!
'A Weasley? What would your father say Crabbe? She's a muggle loving Gryffindor!'
'Draco, you haven't seen her that's why!'
'Yeah, lucky me! Shoot me the day I agree with your taste Crabbe.'
Looking at her now, I thanked my stars that Crabbe was in Azkaban under the eyes of Charlie Weasley and his dragons. She had matured over the past year. Her red gold hair was still the same wild, beautifully curly mane it had always been. Slender and enticingly curved, she was exquisite. And it definitely wasn't my drink talking. She wasn't classically beautiful like my mother, because of the colour of her hair, but personally, I thought she had a beauty of her own that was un-classed. She always had that look about her that made you feel like protecting her, but I knew for a fact that she was more than capable of taking care of herself. She believed in herself and knew what she was capable of, and yet, sometimes she reminded me of myself. A loner. I don't think she felt she fit in at Hogwarts. But, then again, what did I care? She was Virginia Weasley and I was Draco Malfoy and never the twain shall meet.
I slightly shook my head and smiled at the image of her and me. Ridiculous really. That kinda stuff happens in muggle versions of Cinderella.
The bar was almost empty and the barman stood behind the counter scrubbing away
traces of spilt drinks. For the first time since entering the bar I noticed the music playing in the background.
I am colorblind.
Coffee black and Egg White.
Pull me out from inside,
I am ready
I am ready
I am ready
I am.
I had taken quiet a liking to muggle music towards the end of my 6th year. Millicent Bulstrode introduced me to muggle 'records' and 'tapes' and 'c.d's.' Millicent was drafted into the 'light side' by Dumbledore and had proved a great ally. She introduced me to muggle 'movies' as well. They were a passion that I indulged in secret. If anyone ever found out, that I, Draco Malfoy enjoyed muggle music and movies I would be the laughing stock of the wizarding world.
I smirked and stood up to leave. The world seemed to spin and I must have staggered because I held onto the table for support and waited for the world to stop spinning. I looked at where she was sitting and found her slumped onto the table, her hair spread out, her body limp.
'How many did she have?' I questioned the barman.
'Ach. 'bout six or so. with 'er wee lil' frame 't wou'ave been 'oo much for 'er' he answered in his lilting tone, still scrubbing away.
'How much? hers included?' I questioned through the blurry haze that my head was. It killed.
'Ach. 'bout
ten 'ounds " he answered walking over the cash register.
I reached for my wallet. Slowly letting go of the table, I glanced at the barman, who seemed busy setting up all the table for the night. I tried to remember the spell to change Galleons to Pounds.
'BarteriumPound' I whispered and dropped the money on the table.
I slowly staggered towards her. One step at a time Malfoy, my head cautioned.
I slowly reached out to her and shook her shoulder.
'Weasley!' I said insistently.
'Virginia! Wake up!!'
She looked so calm...so... peaceful. It was so unlike the proud, in-control, sharp tongued 'Weasel' from Hogwarts, that for a minute I thought I was mistaken.
'C'mon Weasley! Get up! You've GOT to get up!'
Why are you so concerned about her Draco? the cold, jeering voice in my head questioned. I gritted my teeth and shook her some more.
Think she'll forgive you for what your father did to her parents? it taunted. Never. Never Draco, Never. I shook my head again, refusing to listen to it. I just wanted to make sure she was all right, that nothing happened to her and that she could get home all right.
I slowly supported her limp form and made her sit up straight and she promptly fell forward into my arms. Her cheek rested against my shoulder. Her breath slow and peaceful against my neck. Her hands limp by her side. She was like a puppet in my hands, and I didn't want to hurt her.
Instant awareness flared. Ooh. Attracted to her are we Draco? it taunted me. It's the drink. It's the drink I chanted in my head.
The barman materialized by my side with a glass of water in his hand.
' It might help sir' he said, indicating the glass that he held out to me.
I slowly reached for it, withdrawing my arm from around her back which I'd used to support her. Careful not to drop her, I slowly placed it on the table. I flicked some water onto her face and her eyes fluttered, but remained closed.
"Virginia! Wake up!' Nothing. Some part of me didn't want her to open her eyes and see me. I didn't want to see her clear, beautiful eyes fill up with disgust and hatred as she saw I was the one to wake her. Not some fairytale prince. But, Draco Malfoy. Why do I care anyway? I mentally asked myself and put aside the disturbing thought that I did know, but was to stubborn to look at something that was exactly beneath my nose. Mentally kicking myself for running away with my thoughts, I tipped the glass of water onto her upturned face and waited. I didn't have to wait long.
She spluttered and her eyes opened. She had the most beautiful eyes that I had ever seen. She looked furious. She was. Her eyes said it all, but then suddenly, they lost some of their fire and she collapsed in my arms.
'Virginia! You silly girl! WAKE UP!' I whispered into her ear.
'Virginia!!' I shouted as I shook her.
I sighed, there was obviously no other way. The bar man was shooting me angry little glances and pointedly looked at the watch a couple of times when he caught my gaze.
Resigned to my fate, I bent to pick her up and I forced myself to name each
potion ingredient alphabetically, as her soft frame settled against mine. With her head resting on my shoulder and her soft breath fanning my face and her arms wound around my neck, I walked carefully out of the bar cursing my fate.
to be continued...
colorblind belongs to counting crows. in case anyone has seen cruel intentions, this is the song that plays when they are making love. (=
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