1 Chapter 2
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http://www.geocities.com/nightshade320/fanart.html
A/N: Thank you for the positive reviews so far! I love getting nice reviews! Though, to tell the truth, I never got a flame on any of my fictions. I suppose people are maybe nice to me since I'm fourteen and all, and a girl.
~*~
Draco immediately said: "I came to apologize . . ."
Ginny spoke simultaneously: " I'm sorry for . . ."
They both stared at each other in stunned silence.
" You mean you're not mad?" They both said at the same time. There was an air of suspense and mystery in the air. Ginny shook her head slowly.
" Why would I be mad!" She exclaimed. " The only person that should be mad is you!" She brought her knees up to her chest, still so childish in actions despite the fact she was legally an adult.
Draco didn't know what to say. " But . . . aren't you angry that I didn't tell you who I was?" Suddenly, he felt very stupid. Why did he come here, if she wasn't mad at him? She was probably upset about something totally different and there was no reason for him to bother her any longer. He shook his head. " Well, never mind then. Sorry to bother you." Draco couldn't explain why he felt angry but he did as he turned and readied to leave. His eyes fell upon a picture Ginny was holding.
It was her and some man holding hands. The young man was holding her very protectively and she seemed uncomfortable, yet happy. He looked back up at Ginny, at the bruises on her arms. With a shrug, he readied to leave out the door.
" Wait." Ginny said.
~*~
" Time for presents!" Parvati squealed happily, her hands jiggling a little red bag in front of the Potter couple. Harry nodded and said:
" Okay everyone, I'll be opening the gifts now!" He reached down and felt Hermione's gift, in a tiny box in his pocket, and then turned to the table behind Hermione and himself to ready the gifts. There were quite a few. " Goodness, you didn't have to give us anything!" Harry said, softly, and then lifted Parvati and Padme's gift first.
The red bag rustled as he lifted out a tissue-wrapped lump. Hermione helped him pull aside the tissues and then she cried out: " Oh! It's gorgeous!"
Everyone looked at a beautiful carved elephant made of wood with bits of sea shells glued around it in a mosaic. The tusks were made entirely of small shells that were glued one to another. Harry lifted it up and ran his finger across a small gray shell that made the ear of the elephant. " It's so creative!"
" We made it ourselves." Padme said, pleased.
" It'll look great on the mantelpiece of a fireplace, or on some sort of shell with other collectibles." Parvati hinted. " We had one made of a little kitten, too, but the kitten was sort of crooked-looking."
" SO that's what you're doing as jobs now?" Harry asked.
" Yes. We design accessories." Parvati motioned at the purse Padme held. " Our company's called 'Enchanted Trinkets', or just 'ET' in big gold letters on our things."
Hermione laughed. " I have a few of your company's products, then!" She motioned at the bead necklace around her neck. The beads were carved from wood. One of them, in the middle, had 'ET' carved into it.
Harry opened the next gift, which was a giant wooden box. The wrapping paper fell to the ground as he slowly lifted the lid. Inside was a bottle of wine, two very fancy glasses, and very intimate lingerie in it, both for Harry and Hermione. Harry blushed and then said: "Well!"
Hermione grinned broadly as Oliver Wood hooted, in his gentle-voiced accent: "You put that to good use! We wanna see a little Potter tyke!"
Hermione nodded, and then turned to Harry. Harry said: " Don't worry. So do we." Then he put the gift aside, saying: "Thanks! It was certainly creative."
Oliver and the other members of the Gryffindor team cheered. " We put our money together to get it for you." Oliver explained. " The wine's one of the best, trust me."
The gifts slowly disappeared from the gigantic pile off to the side of the table. A handsome wooden clock to hang on the wall, a few envelopes with money, a beautiful set of light blue and bright pink china. . . the gifts were endless, and all of them would come to some use in the rather plain Potter home. The Dursleys would have been jealous of the gifts.
The Dursleys refused to even look at Harry after he turned eighteen and could finally leave their home. Harry didn't mind, really, for he himself was relieved to be freed from the horrible Dursleys.
New sunflower-patterned curtains, a thick book of poetry, a Muggle DVD player with a few Muggle DVDs. Then, just as quickly as they began to open gifts, there were barely any left. Harry paused expectantly before Hermione, taking her trembling cold hand into his.
" Herm." He whispered, softly. She looked up, eyes shimmering with tears as he ran his hand gently through her hair. His hand lifted her gift from his pocket and then he presented it to her. She took it and opened it slowly. It was a golden locket with a picture of her on one side and one of Harry on the other. The locket cost Harry nearly a week's worth of money at work.
Harry was a professional Quidditch player for a professional team. Hermione was his biggest fan, always in the stands, cheering Harry on. Harry watched as Hermione tenderly lifted the locket. A single tear streamed down her face as she whispered: "Oh, Harry . . ."
She threw her arms around him, kissing him warmly.
A few people cheered and clapped, which left the Potter couple both very red in the face. Harry said, after a few seconds passed: " Uh. . ."
Hermione laughed at his expression and then simply said: " Listen, guys." There was a silence in the room as she said: " I had a speech prepared, just for a bit of thanks for the gifts."
" Always so formal!" Lavender laughed.
Hermione looked untouched by the jeer as she yanked a little notecard from her pocket. She lifted it up so it was level with her face and then read, her voice steady: "Ahem! Harry and I have been married for a year already and we have put all the wedding gifts to wonderful use. Now these gifts will come to help us build our relationship."
She stopped. Everyone watched her, waiting.
" That's it." Hermione added. A few people applauded, and then the applause grew louder as more people caught on. Ron ran up to Harry with a champagne bottle in his hand and then exclaimed:
" Harry, you haven't drunk a drop all evening! Designated Floo-powder carrier?" Ron kidded.
Harry shook his head. " I had some wine."
Ron grinned and then popped the cork out of the champagne. It flew up and struck the chandelier, and the entire thing wobbled dangerously before steadying. "Ron!" Molly Weasley cried out, exasperated.
" Sorry, mum." Ron rolled his eyes and then plunked a little champagne bottle on the corner of the table laden with gifts. Harry watched him pour it to the top with champagne and then he took it in his hand.
" To the Potters!" Ron lifted his own glass.
" To the Potters!"
The sound of glasses clinking in cheers filled the room.
~*~
Harry and Ron sat down at a table not far off from the table with gifts for Harry wanted to keep an eye on the entire room (for the table was in the very front, after all). Ron looked around and then asked: "Where's Ginny?"
" I don't know. Hermione said she went out for a while." Harry said. " Herm is all worried up about it."
" Maybe Ginny's sick." Ron looked alarmed. He lowered his glass and the champagne inside, shimmering with bubbles, bobbed up and down in a wave.
" Don't spill it." Harry warned, then replied to Ron's alarmed remark: " I'm sure Ginny's fine. You know how the girls are. Probably combing her hair down or something."
" Ginny's not like that." Ron replied, bobbing his glass up and down again.
" Don't. . ." Harry sighed and didn't finish his warning.
" I mean, sure, she likes to look nice and all, but she doesn't take forever in front of the mirror. Bloody hell!" Ron cried out, as he spilled a gob of champagne onto the tablecloth.
" Told you to watch out." Harry stood up to sop the water up with a napkin. The napkin quickly grew heavy and he said: " Do you have any more napkins on you?"
Ron shook his head.
Harry remembered how he had brought in a whole stack of napkins. He went over to his own table and then grasped a handful of napkins, then stopped. 'Where's Draco off to?' Harry wondered. Suddenly, his heart fell. Ginny was gone, and so was Draco. What if he took her off, being the Draco Harry knew, and was trying to do something to her?
Harry bristled angrily and then looked around the room to see if Draco wasn't simply standing around sulking in the corner somewhere. But no, Draco was nowhere to be seen. Crabbe and Goyle, meanwhile, seemed to be everywhere. With each step they took some sort of misfortune followed, worse then Neville Longbottom, even.
Crabbe was at the moment busy with tying his shoes, which was going rather poorly for him. Goyle had just stepped on the back of Lee Jordan's shoe and Lee Jordan was having a near fit at the horridly smashed back of his very handsome loafers. Lee Jordan had gone on to being a regular sports announcer for the big-leagues, the World Quidditch Games.
Harry took a nervous glance at the doorway of the room, hoping to see Ginny walk in any moment, but she wasn't coming in.
Harry returned to Ron's table and then said, his voice low, trying to keep his cool despite how visibly bothered he was: " Draco's gone, too."
Ron took the napkins from Harry's hand and then patted the tablecloth dry. Suddenly, Ron realized the meaning of Harry's words. Ron's eyes flew open wide in shock. "You don't think . . .?"
" That's exactly what I think!" Harry said.
" It would make sense." Ron stood up, shaking his head. " We gotta get him."
~*~
"Wait."
Did she really say that?
Draco turned around, his eyes quizzically scanning Ginny. She had put her legs down so that they weren't up to her chest. She leaned forwards, tucking the picture of her old boyfriend into her pocket, and seeing that he had turned around, she said:
" I don't want to be alone."
Draco shrugged. " Come back to the party with me."
Ginny shook her head. " I can't." She looked down at the leather couch with a bit of a distaste. " Though I don't want to sit in this vomity chair, either." Her fingernails plucked at the loose strings that stuck out from every fold and stitch of the armrest.
" Why can't you go back?" Draco was puzzled. He leaned back onto the doorframe, his body a dark shape against the light that was shining into the room from the hallway. The room was rather dark in itself for it was really only a hatcheck and didn't need to be lighted.
Ginny didn't know what she meant by it, either. " I just . . ." She shook her head again. " I just can't."
Draco wanted to get out of this room really quickly, to go back and drink some more champagne or wine, to drink some more of anything. He just felt like boozing a bit, and then going home to the empty Malfoy mansion to collapse on his bed and sleep the drinking off. Life didn't quite matter lately, and he felt that just being around crying women was enough to drive him straight to St. Mungo's mental institution.
" Sit down, why don't you?" Ginny motioned feebly at a chair across the room, which wasn't quite far. Draco figured he could take two big steps and be across the room, no problem.
" I like standing." He said.
What he really liked was being close to the doorway so he wouldn't get too cozy in this stupid room. What did she want from him? Wasn't it enough that he came to apologize to her, a Malfoy, to a Weasley?
" What, do you have leg cramps or something?" She asked, looking ready to laugh if only Draco would acknowledge the joke as well.
Draco didn't think it would be dignified to answer.
" So you really are him, huh." Ginny cocked her head to the side. She looked so innocent, like a little girl marveling at some sort of extravagant peacock through the glass walls of a zoo, tapping at the glass, making the peacock go nuts in fright inside. And the whole time the girl thinks the peacock's having a blast, watching the girl tap her finger numb on the glass.
" The real Draco Malfoy." She seemed very amused with that. " Everyone always said you were so mean, but you're kind of quiet."
" Sometimes it's best to be silent and appear a fool then to speak and prove it." Draco spoke, smoothly, as always.
She looked at him with an even greater curiosity. " You act like some sort of prince. You know that, don't you?" Her face broke into a smile suddenly, for the first time, and the tears in her eyes danced and one flowed out from the corner of her eye.
" Hey. Stop crying, will you?" Draco said.
" I'm s – sorry. I can't h - help it." She began to laugh while she let loose another tear, for her eyes were still full of tears after all, the same as a person that just yawned really, really heavily. " You're so f – funny!"
" What?" He was taken aback.
" You are!" She burst out.
" How!" He demanded. He had taken a step forwards into the room, his body loosening up a little and then tightening again, a cat constantly on the watch. He leaned onto the doorframe again.
" I don't know! You're just so poised, and high and mighty, the tall, dark and handsome kind of guy that sits in a bar, always, not talking to anyone, thinking that everyone else but he doesn't know their ass from their elbow." She laughed harder. "Well, you're not dark . . . but tall and handsome, anyhow."
Draco didn't know whether to take it as a compliment or as an insult. After all, she made him sound like a snob – but at the same time she also said he was handsome. Draco decided to take it safe and not reply.
" Here, I'm telling you, sit down. We can talk for a little, maybe?" Ginny looked at him with hopeful eyes. "Nobody's made me laugh like that in days."
" Good to know you find me so amusing." He murmured.
" Don't be cross!" She exclaimed.
" I'm not." He replied. He walked over to sit down on the wicker chair in front of the leather couch. His back hurt from the wicker the moment he sat down but he figured that Ginny wouldn't leave him alone until he sat down, anyway.
" You look cross." She inquired.
" Not unless you want me to be." He shot back.
Ginny smiled again. " No, I'd rather talk to someone that isn't cross." She smoothed the creases of her dainty little dress out on her knees, and then added: " You're not like how I imagined you."
" Well, it's hard to imagine a person from secondary sources." Draco said. He looked down at his fingernails suddenly, trying to avoid looking at Ginny. For some reason, she reminded her of the cheerful and happy Pansy that he had come to know as they had dated. Pansy wasn't good-looking, he knew that, but he didn't CARE. People assumed that someone like him would want a supermodel or something, but he didn't want that at all. Nobody cared to know what he truly wanted, what he truly thought. They just assumed.
His mind flashed images of Pansy. There she was, across the street, waving to him. Suddenly, that image of a speeding red car, one of those Mustangs – a red one – ripping down the street, towards her. He could see that flash of bright blue and green sun dress, a shriek, and then everything was a tearful blur as a horrible mass of sirens and ambulance wails filled his ears, so loud he could still feel the shivers they sent down his spine.
*Pansies fade, pansies wither
*come winter again
*Come the time to pay the tither
*when winter comes again
That old poem that he once saw in a poem book . . . it was just before winter when it happened, when the thing to Pansy happened. Pansies fade, pansies wither. . . Pansy had pretty much done just that on her white little hospital bed. There was Draco sitting by her hospital bed, surrounded by idiot Muggles, going this way and that, treating her with their useless Muggle medicine. Draco couldn't just zap her with a spell or anything, especially not in the Muggle hospital. St. Anne's, they called it. Poor Pansy, Draco thought. She was too far away from life, on the merger of life and death.
And the tither – well, it was an old poem from the middle ages, where the tither would collect taxes in the late fall. So, when winter comes again . . .
Now Draco knew that every winter he'd see Pansy's face as she practically faded away in front of him, the inevitable forces of life and death pulling her away from him. It was almost too much for him to think about.
" What are you thinking about?" Ginny interrupted his thoughts.
Draco hadn't realized he'd been silent for so long. He looked up at her, then quickly looked away so she wouldn't see the tears in his eyes. And yet, his tears reflected the light streaming in from the hallway.
~*~
Hermione looked around nervously. Ginny's been gone way too long and Hermione knew she ought to go convince her to come back to the party. She stopped suddenly, thinking: 'Maybe I ought to send Draco to her?'.
She looked around, but he was gone.
Hermione suddenly felt very relieved. Draco must have gone to see Ginny on his own! She grinned and decided to leave them be, then, for she trusted Draco in some odd way, which she found bizarre. Sometimes women and girls had this sense of trust where they would know right off that someone could be trusted.
" Hermione!" Someone said from behind her.
She turned and then smiled to see Professor McGonagall. Harry had invited the teachers from school to see them. Dumbledore was unable to make it, of course, for he was off on a very important trip to Denmark, and it was hush-hush right now but Harry suspected that Dumbledore had a new problem on his hands, something to do with a new teacher.
" Oh, Professor McGonagall! How good to see you!" Hermione said, smiling.
" Don't be silly, we see each other every day, nearly." Professor McGonagall said. Hermione had been the new instructor for Defense Against the Dark Arts now, but since she and Harry were still getting used to their new home and organizing it, Hermione taught class on odd days. She would transport herself by Floo Powder back home on Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays, and Sundays (the latter two were for religious days). Hermione was very happy with her job. The other teacher – that taught Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, was none other then Sirius Black. Sirius had for long now been cleared off from the evil associated with his name.
" How's Sirius doing? He'd been really ill and I hadn't seen him for a while." Hermione asked. In fact, Sirius hadn't come to the party for he was that ill.
" Oh, you know how exciting he likes to be. He pops from his skin to make hands-on projects in school. In doing so, he made a bit of an error with a Dark Arts spell and is now under constant watch by Madame Pomfrey." Professor McGonagall chuckled under her breath.
" Sounds serious." Hermione admitted. " What's wrong with him?"
" Well, he tried to show how to deflect an Illumni spell, which is basically. . ."
" Illumni. I know what it does. It makes the body glow to Dark Forces, and only to Dark Forces. Sometimes people don't even know they have it on, like that girl – Sally? The one in the Daily Prophet?"
" Yes, that's the spell." Professor McGonagall shook her head. " He made a bit of an error, I don't remember what it was – and now his entire body is glowing. Little lights, like flashlights, poke out from every pore in his skin."
" Goodness!" Hermione exclaimed. "How is Madame Pomfrey going to cure him?" Her hand shot up to the side of her face in an expression of utter worry.
" Don't you worry! Madame Pomfrey has to put a spell to heal the flashlight-effect for about every square inch of skin on his body. It ought to take a week or so. It's because so many pores are inflamed." Professor McGonagall shook her head.
" My, my." Hermione laughed. " Defense Against the Dark Arts got even more complicated, hadn't it, since new Dark Arts material is discovered all the time."
" Just like Muggles with that DNA research bit." Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes. " Magic could save them years of work! Think about it."
" I know!" Hermione rolled her eyes as well. " I only wish we could help them out without, well, revealing that we're helping them."
" It's best to leave Muggles be." Professor McGonagall admitted. " Oh, I must get going, I promised to meet someone in an hour."
" You're leaving early, then?" Hermione asked.
" Indeed." Professor McGonagall put her hand on Hermione's shoulder. " You were always a good student. One of my favorites, Mrs. Potter, and Harry was also a favorite. I can't stress enough about how happy I am to see you two together." She added: " By the way, is Mr. Ronald Weasley romantically involved . . .?"
" There's a girl, Virginia Coolick. She is his partner in the broomstick store Ron's handling." Hermione said.
" Oh! Have you met her?" Professor McGonagall asked.
" I have. She's very pleasant. She's three years his senior, but the sweetest girl you'll ever meet. Positively admirable, in words and actions, a real angel." Hermione paused to add: " Though Ron had been going with Lavender, on and off, for a few years now. Virginia might only be something for Ron to contend with in between the periods in which he's with Lavender."
" That Lavender. She's a bit of a coquette, in my opinion." Professor McGonagall frowned. " No matter, I really am running late. You will excuse me, won't you, dear?" She gave Hermione a stiff smile.
" Sure." Hermione smiled back. " Thank you for coming!"
" All my pleasure." Professor McGonagall walked to the back of the room, where a fireplace was crackling. Harry had insisted to rent a room with a fireplace. She tossed a bit of Floo powder inside and was gone.
~*~
Harry and Ron both sat talking nervously now at their table. " Maybe we could be wrong, of course. Maybe Draco stepped out for a cigarette or something." Ron said, slowly.
" I haven't known him to smoke. He wouldn't touch them since they're Muggle things." Harry said. A few of the witches and wizards Harry knew had begun to smoke Muggle cigarettes. Harry didn't smoke and he refused to try it for he knew the things it did to people – the way the lungs would blacken, become sickly wheezing things slowly dying from the inside.
" He could be in the men's room." Ron suggested.
" Should we go check? It would feel stupid to blame him outright." Harry said.
" I guess we ought to check." Ron murmured. " Hope he doesn't take us wrong if we poke around looking for him in the bathroom." Ron stood up, taking another sip of champagne before banging the wineglass down again. " Let's go."
The room rushed by them as the two walked out into the hallway. They stopped. "Where's the bathroom, anyhow?" Ron asked.
" I think that it's to the left." Harry tried to recall to himself which way he was to go. " Yeah, I remember passing that little plaque with the little guy drawn on it." Harry turned left and Ron followed closely behind. Harry turned his head and asked: "So, how's it going with Virginia Coolick, anyhow?"
Ron smiled. " Virginia's alright." He put his hands into his pockets and then drew something out from his left one. He showed a wizard-picture to Harry. " That's us, last week, at the Annual Witch Carnival."
Harry looked at it and grinned. " She looks so happy, Ron."
" I know." Ron replied. " I'm ecstatic in the picture, too. Look at me." Harry did. Ron was grinning from ear to ear. His hand was around Virginia's shoulders. Virginia was a girl of average height, about six inches shorter then the 6 foot 1 inch Ron. Her hair was short and a very dark brown with reddish highlights twisted into it. Her face was kind and very round, her eyes framed with dark eyelashes, and the irises of her eyes were black as oil drops. She had a few freckles from the summer that had come to pass. She was rather pudgy but it made her look warmer and kinder, and nothing else.
" Why didn't you bring her along?" Harry asked.
" She's visiting her parents up in Greenwich." Ron explained.
" Oh! Is something wrong with them?" Harry and Ron were now walking by the kitchen rooms. Thick grayish smoke piled from the swinging doors, which were on two-way hinges and had no doorknobs or any lock on them for people kept exploding from inside with armfuls of trays. It smelled fabulous.
" Nope. Just a regular visit, since she says she likes to keep in update with them. You know how it is, when your folks get older." Ron suddenly stopped, realizing what he just said. " I'm sorry, Harry, I oughtn't have said that . . ."
" It's alright. It barely frazzles me to be reminded of my parent's death." Harry replied. They continued walking.
" Anyhow, ol' Virginia's great." Ron said, wistfully. " I always find it fun to talk to her. Criminey, does she talk a lot, though! I suppose that's one of her faults."
" To tell the truth, I think most girls talk a lot." Harry said. Images of the talkative Lavender, Parvati, Padme, and even Ginny filled Harry's mind. They stopped in front of the men's room.
The door had a little white plaque with the black shape of a man on it. Harry opened the door and stepped in.
(A/N: Since I have NEVER, ever rightfully even seen a men's room I will spare any description. All I know is that it differs from that of a woman's room).
Harry stopped by a sink and then leaned on it, looking around. " I don't think anyone's here. Draco?"
Nobody replied. Harry shrugged and then turned back to Ron. " Let's go see if he's outside. If not, well, we know what to expect."
Ron nodded. " That little punk." He murmured. " If he even touches Ginny against her will . . ." Ron punched a fist into the wall to prove his point, then recoiled. "OW!"
~*~
" What's wrong?" Ginny exclaimed, seeing how Draco looked so near tears. "Did I hurt your feelings?"
" Of course not! And if you did, I wouldn't go and sob my eyes out about it." Draco snapped. She looked at him angrily.
" Don't be so snappy." She scolded. " I'm just being concerned . . ."
" Well, if you must know, I'm reminiscing." Draco said. " About the past, mostly, things that could have been. I haven't had the happiest life recently, you know."
" I'm sorry." Ginny said.
Draco shifted. The wicker chair was really annoying him all of a sudden. " Hell, it feels like I'm sitting in a basket or something." He winced as the wicker chair handle poked heavily into his back.
Ginny laughed.
Draco looked up at her. He had never thought of himself as funny. Sarcastic, yes, depressed, yes, ironic, yes, but not humorous. His eyes narrowed. " I might as well ask about your problems now. Why were you crying, anyway?"
" It's a long story." Ginny said, tucking her legs up to her chest again, in a childish position, as if seeking for a hug or some affection of that sort, some bodily warmth next to her.
Draco sighed. He figured he hadn't anywhere better to be – sitting at a table, drinking? He might as well listen to her.
Ginny misinterpreted the way he leaned back and sighed as a sign of getting ready for the long story. "You're so sweet, to listen to me. Nobody listens, they just told me not to talk about it, since it would make me feel bad." She turned red. " I mean, you know, anyone who listens is sweet."
" Yeah, just talk." Draco didn't feel like listening to the small talk. He wanted to real thing. His head bumped the back of the wicker chair as he listened intently. " Well?"
" You see, I met this really nice guy. His name was Jason. He was really protective of me, and some people would tell me that's a warning sign that the guy's going to be trouble, but I didn't pay attention then." Ginny began.
Draco nodded to keep her going, and to reassure that he was paying attention and not dozing off.
" Jason was really with . . . with advancing in our relationship." Ginny's voice grew tight with tears. " He wanted me to do things." She stopped suddenly.
Draco knew what she meant quite well and he said: " You should have said no. Girls with no will power are no fun." He moved himself around in the wicker chair so he was sitting on the armrest instead. The stupid chair was impossible to be comfortable in unless someone was strapped with pillows.
" I couldn't. He'd hit me." She choked out. She was ready to cry again.
" Hey. Stop." Draco said, instantly. Watching her cry would make him go nuts, it really would. He didn't like it when girls cried, he felt like he didn't know what to do. Comforting them felt like being dishonorable to Pansy, and not comforting them felt like he was some sort of cold-hearted creep.
" I'm sorry." Ginny said. Finally, she continued, after swallowing down a few tearful sobs: " He'd hit me for anything, soon enough. And Jason kept telling me if I told anyone – he'd hit me again."
" It's only a threat. He wouldn't have." Draco said.
" I don't know." Ginny sighed. " All I know is, one day, Fred, George, Harry, and Ron walked in on him as he was hitting me. He slapped me so hard I . . . I fell to the ground, and I was bleeding, and . . ." She shook suddenly and another tear slipped from her eye.
Draco stood up. He didn't know what to do. " Hey, stop, stop! Don't cry so loud, for Wizard's sake. What if someone hears? They'll think I'm doing something . . . hey, hey!" He cried out, for she suddenly wrapped her arms around his middle and was sobbing into his stomach.
" I'm sorry! I'll get you in trouble . . ." She hugged him tighter, and then said: "Thanks for listening." She wiped her eyes and then let go of him. Draco felt numb with shock.
" Well – uh – you're welcome." Suddenly, he felt he ought to tell her about Pansy, as well. He hadn't told anyone about his feelings, much. Ever since Pansy had died, he locked himself away from his parents (from his father especially), from his few friends, and generally from everyone else. " Hey, how about I tell you something. I won't tell what you said if you won't tell what I said."
She looked at him. " I . . . I guess."
He looked back at the wicker chair. He didn't want to suffer the torture of that stupid chair, so he plopped himself down on the leather couch, a good two feet away from where Ginny sat. " Listen, then. I haven't told anyone, so you damn better know that you gotta keep it to yourself. Got it?"
Ginny nodded. " Why are you telling me, then?"
" Because . . . well, we've both been through things, right?"
She nodded.
" And you told me about your worries. It seems fair if I told you my sob story, right?" Draco watched her nod again. He sighed again and then leaned back on the leather couch, his body melting into the soft black folds of the leather. He felt relaxed, his mind focused, and for the first time in a year, he felt ready to talk. " I was dating Pansy for a long time, you know. Ever since when I was in the middle of my sixteenth year." Draco stopped and then pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and then passed it to Ginny. " Hey, wipe your nose, will you?"
She laughed, shaking her head, and then took the handkerchief. Her fingers traced the stitched 'DM' on it. Then, she pressed it to her nose, and spoke, muffled by the material: " I'm guessing you won't want it back?"
" Nope." Draco smiled. It felt like ages since he last smiled, for real. " You see, Pansy was great for me. She seemed to listen. I always needed someone to listen, you know. People always like to label. I was so used to being labeled evil and mean, because of my family name, that by the time I got to Hogwarts that's what I lived up to. And I guess I still do."
" That's kind of sad." Ginny said.
" Yeah, well, I'm not looking for pity or anything, so don't." He propped his head up on his hand, his elbow resting on the armrest. " Pansy and I – we were engaged. We were going to be married this summer. She and I made a date on the day of Potter's wedding. I was going to go, I even sent an RSVP and all that good crap." Draco let out a wavering breath. " I was walking – and saw her just standing there across the street, waving to me, laughing."
Ginny nodded slowly, her stomach lurching, knowing what to expect to come up next. Draco looked at her and said: " She was like you, in a way." His voice cracked. "At least, around me. She was always so damn happy, and you couldn't peel the smile off her face with a crowbar. Well, maybe not like you at the MOMENT . . ." Draco looked at Ginny, her eyes horribly puffy from crying, her face twisted in a frown, trails of tears on her face.
She grinned.
" Let me guess, I'm funny." Draco leaned his head back, resting it on the top of the couch, examining the pattern of tiles on the ceiling. " There she was, I can see it, practically. Her blue and green sundress flapping in the sun. She always walked fast, and when she saw me, she just dashed out onto the Muggle street. Some idiot that knew about as much about driving as I do was just speeding his brains out on the road. I don't even know how to explain it – suddenly, I just felt so sick, and there was this awful thump sound, and she was tossed to the curb . . ."
" Oh!" Ginny let out her breath quickly and sharply, as if she had just seen or heard something so horrible and unspeakable that it could only be expressed in that half-breath.
" They came to take her away, in those little white things, ambulances, with the noisy flashing lights. They took me, the police, and drove me to the hospital. I was so out of it, it was as if I was the one hit by the car or something." Draco stopped, his voice crackling again. He didn't know if he ought to continue. Malfoys don't tell people their feelings – and especially not to Weasleys. But it felt so right!
" I'm so sorry." Ginny whispered.
Draco looked at her, suddenly, for the first time really looking into her eyes, ready to talk eye-to-eye, instead of cowering. He figured it was only his own choice, his own mistake, if he told a Weasley his problems. " They put her in this hospital bed – God, she looked dead already – all white-covered, the room white, like some sort of miniature Heaven." Draco felt a shiver go down his spine as he relived the memory. " I went up to her bed, they let me see her, just in case - - well, you know. She was still conscious, but bleeding so bad, and she took my hand and squeezed it, and said 'I love you'. Then her hand felt so limp and cold, and they wheeled her away. Just wheeled her away, damn it." Draco was breathing heavily, his chest going up and down in anger.
Ginny sighed. "That's terrible."
" I never - - got to talk to her again." Draco stopped there. " That's basically it. The end of my life, there."
" You can't say that. You have to be able to move on, you know."
Draco couldn't even explain it, but suddenly he let out all the tears he had never allowed himself to truly shed. All the Malfoy pride and honor for years held and pampered was released.
And then, suddenly, Ginny kissed him, probably to comfort him, but it still came to him as a freezing-cold shock.
And the next shock – two dark shapes in the doorway.
~*~
Ron and Harry, a little while back, were running down the hall. Ron paused, his hair messily scattered on his forehead. " I can't - - let's just peek into the doors of the rooms or something, okay? I can't run for shit."
Harry nodded. He disliked profanity but it seemed Ron had grown fond of it over the years. Harry looked to the right of the hallway. " You hear that?" He said, all of a sudden.
" It sounds like a girl crying." Ron exclaimed.
" You don't think . . .?" Harry asked, in horror. They both slowly began to creep down the hall. If Draco was doing some sort of dirty, unearthly thing to Ginny, they might as well nab him when he didn't expect them. They waited a few minutes before the doorway, hesitating. What if it was someone else in there and something different was going on? How embarrassing would that be, then!
Harry thought about Hermione just then. If Draco would attack him, and kill him, he wondered if Hermione would know he loved her more then anything. Harry shook the thought from his head. That wouldn't happen, in the first place, and in the second place, Hermione of course knew of Harry's affection. Harry told her about a million times a day, and then some.
Harry and Ron exchanged glances and then ran into the doorway of the room. There was Draco, and Ginny and he were kissing. Ginny's face was streaked with tears.
" You . . ." Ron screeched, adding a very, very mean profanity at the end that happened to start with 'B' and had 7 letters in it.
~*~
A/N: I end here, once again, because I can't type fast enough. Yeah, that's it. No, actually, I want reviews. And there will be more, whether I get reviews or not, no worries.
But I would really appreciate reviews. What do you think? In character (at least in accordance to plot)? Good story line? Alright spelling/grammar? Please say something at least.
P.S. I am forever grateful to those who reviewed so far.
(Gary Skinner you read pretty much all my fiction, almost, so I am really grateful for your kind words, which not once said anything mean. I really, really appreciate it)!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Oh check out the fan art for Harry Potter that I DREW! Oh please! Tell me in your review if you like it:
http://www.geocities.com/nightshade320/fanart.html
A/N: Thank you for the positive reviews so far! I love getting nice reviews! Though, to tell the truth, I never got a flame on any of my fictions. I suppose people are maybe nice to me since I'm fourteen and all, and a girl.
~*~
Draco immediately said: "I came to apologize . . ."
Ginny spoke simultaneously: " I'm sorry for . . ."
They both stared at each other in stunned silence.
" You mean you're not mad?" They both said at the same time. There was an air of suspense and mystery in the air. Ginny shook her head slowly.
" Why would I be mad!" She exclaimed. " The only person that should be mad is you!" She brought her knees up to her chest, still so childish in actions despite the fact she was legally an adult.
Draco didn't know what to say. " But . . . aren't you angry that I didn't tell you who I was?" Suddenly, he felt very stupid. Why did he come here, if she wasn't mad at him? She was probably upset about something totally different and there was no reason for him to bother her any longer. He shook his head. " Well, never mind then. Sorry to bother you." Draco couldn't explain why he felt angry but he did as he turned and readied to leave. His eyes fell upon a picture Ginny was holding.
It was her and some man holding hands. The young man was holding her very protectively and she seemed uncomfortable, yet happy. He looked back up at Ginny, at the bruises on her arms. With a shrug, he readied to leave out the door.
" Wait." Ginny said.
~*~
" Time for presents!" Parvati squealed happily, her hands jiggling a little red bag in front of the Potter couple. Harry nodded and said:
" Okay everyone, I'll be opening the gifts now!" He reached down and felt Hermione's gift, in a tiny box in his pocket, and then turned to the table behind Hermione and himself to ready the gifts. There were quite a few. " Goodness, you didn't have to give us anything!" Harry said, softly, and then lifted Parvati and Padme's gift first.
The red bag rustled as he lifted out a tissue-wrapped lump. Hermione helped him pull aside the tissues and then she cried out: " Oh! It's gorgeous!"
Everyone looked at a beautiful carved elephant made of wood with bits of sea shells glued around it in a mosaic. The tusks were made entirely of small shells that were glued one to another. Harry lifted it up and ran his finger across a small gray shell that made the ear of the elephant. " It's so creative!"
" We made it ourselves." Padme said, pleased.
" It'll look great on the mantelpiece of a fireplace, or on some sort of shell with other collectibles." Parvati hinted. " We had one made of a little kitten, too, but the kitten was sort of crooked-looking."
" SO that's what you're doing as jobs now?" Harry asked.
" Yes. We design accessories." Parvati motioned at the purse Padme held. " Our company's called 'Enchanted Trinkets', or just 'ET' in big gold letters on our things."
Hermione laughed. " I have a few of your company's products, then!" She motioned at the bead necklace around her neck. The beads were carved from wood. One of them, in the middle, had 'ET' carved into it.
Harry opened the next gift, which was a giant wooden box. The wrapping paper fell to the ground as he slowly lifted the lid. Inside was a bottle of wine, two very fancy glasses, and very intimate lingerie in it, both for Harry and Hermione. Harry blushed and then said: "Well!"
Hermione grinned broadly as Oliver Wood hooted, in his gentle-voiced accent: "You put that to good use! We wanna see a little Potter tyke!"
Hermione nodded, and then turned to Harry. Harry said: " Don't worry. So do we." Then he put the gift aside, saying: "Thanks! It was certainly creative."
Oliver and the other members of the Gryffindor team cheered. " We put our money together to get it for you." Oliver explained. " The wine's one of the best, trust me."
The gifts slowly disappeared from the gigantic pile off to the side of the table. A handsome wooden clock to hang on the wall, a few envelopes with money, a beautiful set of light blue and bright pink china. . . the gifts were endless, and all of them would come to some use in the rather plain Potter home. The Dursleys would have been jealous of the gifts.
The Dursleys refused to even look at Harry after he turned eighteen and could finally leave their home. Harry didn't mind, really, for he himself was relieved to be freed from the horrible Dursleys.
New sunflower-patterned curtains, a thick book of poetry, a Muggle DVD player with a few Muggle DVDs. Then, just as quickly as they began to open gifts, there were barely any left. Harry paused expectantly before Hermione, taking her trembling cold hand into his.
" Herm." He whispered, softly. She looked up, eyes shimmering with tears as he ran his hand gently through her hair. His hand lifted her gift from his pocket and then he presented it to her. She took it and opened it slowly. It was a golden locket with a picture of her on one side and one of Harry on the other. The locket cost Harry nearly a week's worth of money at work.
Harry was a professional Quidditch player for a professional team. Hermione was his biggest fan, always in the stands, cheering Harry on. Harry watched as Hermione tenderly lifted the locket. A single tear streamed down her face as she whispered: "Oh, Harry . . ."
She threw her arms around him, kissing him warmly.
A few people cheered and clapped, which left the Potter couple both very red in the face. Harry said, after a few seconds passed: " Uh. . ."
Hermione laughed at his expression and then simply said: " Listen, guys." There was a silence in the room as she said: " I had a speech prepared, just for a bit of thanks for the gifts."
" Always so formal!" Lavender laughed.
Hermione looked untouched by the jeer as she yanked a little notecard from her pocket. She lifted it up so it was level with her face and then read, her voice steady: "Ahem! Harry and I have been married for a year already and we have put all the wedding gifts to wonderful use. Now these gifts will come to help us build our relationship."
She stopped. Everyone watched her, waiting.
" That's it." Hermione added. A few people applauded, and then the applause grew louder as more people caught on. Ron ran up to Harry with a champagne bottle in his hand and then exclaimed:
" Harry, you haven't drunk a drop all evening! Designated Floo-powder carrier?" Ron kidded.
Harry shook his head. " I had some wine."
Ron grinned and then popped the cork out of the champagne. It flew up and struck the chandelier, and the entire thing wobbled dangerously before steadying. "Ron!" Molly Weasley cried out, exasperated.
" Sorry, mum." Ron rolled his eyes and then plunked a little champagne bottle on the corner of the table laden with gifts. Harry watched him pour it to the top with champagne and then he took it in his hand.
" To the Potters!" Ron lifted his own glass.
" To the Potters!"
The sound of glasses clinking in cheers filled the room.
~*~
Harry and Ron sat down at a table not far off from the table with gifts for Harry wanted to keep an eye on the entire room (for the table was in the very front, after all). Ron looked around and then asked: "Where's Ginny?"
" I don't know. Hermione said she went out for a while." Harry said. " Herm is all worried up about it."
" Maybe Ginny's sick." Ron looked alarmed. He lowered his glass and the champagne inside, shimmering with bubbles, bobbed up and down in a wave.
" Don't spill it." Harry warned, then replied to Ron's alarmed remark: " I'm sure Ginny's fine. You know how the girls are. Probably combing her hair down or something."
" Ginny's not like that." Ron replied, bobbing his glass up and down again.
" Don't. . ." Harry sighed and didn't finish his warning.
" I mean, sure, she likes to look nice and all, but she doesn't take forever in front of the mirror. Bloody hell!" Ron cried out, as he spilled a gob of champagne onto the tablecloth.
" Told you to watch out." Harry stood up to sop the water up with a napkin. The napkin quickly grew heavy and he said: " Do you have any more napkins on you?"
Ron shook his head.
Harry remembered how he had brought in a whole stack of napkins. He went over to his own table and then grasped a handful of napkins, then stopped. 'Where's Draco off to?' Harry wondered. Suddenly, his heart fell. Ginny was gone, and so was Draco. What if he took her off, being the Draco Harry knew, and was trying to do something to her?
Harry bristled angrily and then looked around the room to see if Draco wasn't simply standing around sulking in the corner somewhere. But no, Draco was nowhere to be seen. Crabbe and Goyle, meanwhile, seemed to be everywhere. With each step they took some sort of misfortune followed, worse then Neville Longbottom, even.
Crabbe was at the moment busy with tying his shoes, which was going rather poorly for him. Goyle had just stepped on the back of Lee Jordan's shoe and Lee Jordan was having a near fit at the horridly smashed back of his very handsome loafers. Lee Jordan had gone on to being a regular sports announcer for the big-leagues, the World Quidditch Games.
Harry took a nervous glance at the doorway of the room, hoping to see Ginny walk in any moment, but she wasn't coming in.
Harry returned to Ron's table and then said, his voice low, trying to keep his cool despite how visibly bothered he was: " Draco's gone, too."
Ron took the napkins from Harry's hand and then patted the tablecloth dry. Suddenly, Ron realized the meaning of Harry's words. Ron's eyes flew open wide in shock. "You don't think . . .?"
" That's exactly what I think!" Harry said.
" It would make sense." Ron stood up, shaking his head. " We gotta get him."
~*~
"Wait."
Did she really say that?
Draco turned around, his eyes quizzically scanning Ginny. She had put her legs down so that they weren't up to her chest. She leaned forwards, tucking the picture of her old boyfriend into her pocket, and seeing that he had turned around, she said:
" I don't want to be alone."
Draco shrugged. " Come back to the party with me."
Ginny shook her head. " I can't." She looked down at the leather couch with a bit of a distaste. " Though I don't want to sit in this vomity chair, either." Her fingernails plucked at the loose strings that stuck out from every fold and stitch of the armrest.
" Why can't you go back?" Draco was puzzled. He leaned back onto the doorframe, his body a dark shape against the light that was shining into the room from the hallway. The room was rather dark in itself for it was really only a hatcheck and didn't need to be lighted.
Ginny didn't know what she meant by it, either. " I just . . ." She shook her head again. " I just can't."
Draco wanted to get out of this room really quickly, to go back and drink some more champagne or wine, to drink some more of anything. He just felt like boozing a bit, and then going home to the empty Malfoy mansion to collapse on his bed and sleep the drinking off. Life didn't quite matter lately, and he felt that just being around crying women was enough to drive him straight to St. Mungo's mental institution.
" Sit down, why don't you?" Ginny motioned feebly at a chair across the room, which wasn't quite far. Draco figured he could take two big steps and be across the room, no problem.
" I like standing." He said.
What he really liked was being close to the doorway so he wouldn't get too cozy in this stupid room. What did she want from him? Wasn't it enough that he came to apologize to her, a Malfoy, to a Weasley?
" What, do you have leg cramps or something?" She asked, looking ready to laugh if only Draco would acknowledge the joke as well.
Draco didn't think it would be dignified to answer.
" So you really are him, huh." Ginny cocked her head to the side. She looked so innocent, like a little girl marveling at some sort of extravagant peacock through the glass walls of a zoo, tapping at the glass, making the peacock go nuts in fright inside. And the whole time the girl thinks the peacock's having a blast, watching the girl tap her finger numb on the glass.
" The real Draco Malfoy." She seemed very amused with that. " Everyone always said you were so mean, but you're kind of quiet."
" Sometimes it's best to be silent and appear a fool then to speak and prove it." Draco spoke, smoothly, as always.
She looked at him with an even greater curiosity. " You act like some sort of prince. You know that, don't you?" Her face broke into a smile suddenly, for the first time, and the tears in her eyes danced and one flowed out from the corner of her eye.
" Hey. Stop crying, will you?" Draco said.
" I'm s – sorry. I can't h - help it." She began to laugh while she let loose another tear, for her eyes were still full of tears after all, the same as a person that just yawned really, really heavily. " You're so f – funny!"
" What?" He was taken aback.
" You are!" She burst out.
" How!" He demanded. He had taken a step forwards into the room, his body loosening up a little and then tightening again, a cat constantly on the watch. He leaned onto the doorframe again.
" I don't know! You're just so poised, and high and mighty, the tall, dark and handsome kind of guy that sits in a bar, always, not talking to anyone, thinking that everyone else but he doesn't know their ass from their elbow." She laughed harder. "Well, you're not dark . . . but tall and handsome, anyhow."
Draco didn't know whether to take it as a compliment or as an insult. After all, she made him sound like a snob – but at the same time she also said he was handsome. Draco decided to take it safe and not reply.
" Here, I'm telling you, sit down. We can talk for a little, maybe?" Ginny looked at him with hopeful eyes. "Nobody's made me laugh like that in days."
" Good to know you find me so amusing." He murmured.
" Don't be cross!" She exclaimed.
" I'm not." He replied. He walked over to sit down on the wicker chair in front of the leather couch. His back hurt from the wicker the moment he sat down but he figured that Ginny wouldn't leave him alone until he sat down, anyway.
" You look cross." She inquired.
" Not unless you want me to be." He shot back.
Ginny smiled again. " No, I'd rather talk to someone that isn't cross." She smoothed the creases of her dainty little dress out on her knees, and then added: " You're not like how I imagined you."
" Well, it's hard to imagine a person from secondary sources." Draco said. He looked down at his fingernails suddenly, trying to avoid looking at Ginny. For some reason, she reminded her of the cheerful and happy Pansy that he had come to know as they had dated. Pansy wasn't good-looking, he knew that, but he didn't CARE. People assumed that someone like him would want a supermodel or something, but he didn't want that at all. Nobody cared to know what he truly wanted, what he truly thought. They just assumed.
His mind flashed images of Pansy. There she was, across the street, waving to him. Suddenly, that image of a speeding red car, one of those Mustangs – a red one – ripping down the street, towards her. He could see that flash of bright blue and green sun dress, a shriek, and then everything was a tearful blur as a horrible mass of sirens and ambulance wails filled his ears, so loud he could still feel the shivers they sent down his spine.
*Pansies fade, pansies wither
*come winter again
*Come the time to pay the tither
*when winter comes again
That old poem that he once saw in a poem book . . . it was just before winter when it happened, when the thing to Pansy happened. Pansies fade, pansies wither. . . Pansy had pretty much done just that on her white little hospital bed. There was Draco sitting by her hospital bed, surrounded by idiot Muggles, going this way and that, treating her with their useless Muggle medicine. Draco couldn't just zap her with a spell or anything, especially not in the Muggle hospital. St. Anne's, they called it. Poor Pansy, Draco thought. She was too far away from life, on the merger of life and death.
And the tither – well, it was an old poem from the middle ages, where the tither would collect taxes in the late fall. So, when winter comes again . . .
Now Draco knew that every winter he'd see Pansy's face as she practically faded away in front of him, the inevitable forces of life and death pulling her away from him. It was almost too much for him to think about.
" What are you thinking about?" Ginny interrupted his thoughts.
Draco hadn't realized he'd been silent for so long. He looked up at her, then quickly looked away so she wouldn't see the tears in his eyes. And yet, his tears reflected the light streaming in from the hallway.
~*~
Hermione looked around nervously. Ginny's been gone way too long and Hermione knew she ought to go convince her to come back to the party. She stopped suddenly, thinking: 'Maybe I ought to send Draco to her?'.
She looked around, but he was gone.
Hermione suddenly felt very relieved. Draco must have gone to see Ginny on his own! She grinned and decided to leave them be, then, for she trusted Draco in some odd way, which she found bizarre. Sometimes women and girls had this sense of trust where they would know right off that someone could be trusted.
" Hermione!" Someone said from behind her.
She turned and then smiled to see Professor McGonagall. Harry had invited the teachers from school to see them. Dumbledore was unable to make it, of course, for he was off on a very important trip to Denmark, and it was hush-hush right now but Harry suspected that Dumbledore had a new problem on his hands, something to do with a new teacher.
" Oh, Professor McGonagall! How good to see you!" Hermione said, smiling.
" Don't be silly, we see each other every day, nearly." Professor McGonagall said. Hermione had been the new instructor for Defense Against the Dark Arts now, but since she and Harry were still getting used to their new home and organizing it, Hermione taught class on odd days. She would transport herself by Floo Powder back home on Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays, and Sundays (the latter two were for religious days). Hermione was very happy with her job. The other teacher – that taught Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, was none other then Sirius Black. Sirius had for long now been cleared off from the evil associated with his name.
" How's Sirius doing? He'd been really ill and I hadn't seen him for a while." Hermione asked. In fact, Sirius hadn't come to the party for he was that ill.
" Oh, you know how exciting he likes to be. He pops from his skin to make hands-on projects in school. In doing so, he made a bit of an error with a Dark Arts spell and is now under constant watch by Madame Pomfrey." Professor McGonagall chuckled under her breath.
" Sounds serious." Hermione admitted. " What's wrong with him?"
" Well, he tried to show how to deflect an Illumni spell, which is basically. . ."
" Illumni. I know what it does. It makes the body glow to Dark Forces, and only to Dark Forces. Sometimes people don't even know they have it on, like that girl – Sally? The one in the Daily Prophet?"
" Yes, that's the spell." Professor McGonagall shook her head. " He made a bit of an error, I don't remember what it was – and now his entire body is glowing. Little lights, like flashlights, poke out from every pore in his skin."
" Goodness!" Hermione exclaimed. "How is Madame Pomfrey going to cure him?" Her hand shot up to the side of her face in an expression of utter worry.
" Don't you worry! Madame Pomfrey has to put a spell to heal the flashlight-effect for about every square inch of skin on his body. It ought to take a week or so. It's because so many pores are inflamed." Professor McGonagall shook her head.
" My, my." Hermione laughed. " Defense Against the Dark Arts got even more complicated, hadn't it, since new Dark Arts material is discovered all the time."
" Just like Muggles with that DNA research bit." Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes. " Magic could save them years of work! Think about it."
" I know!" Hermione rolled her eyes as well. " I only wish we could help them out without, well, revealing that we're helping them."
" It's best to leave Muggles be." Professor McGonagall admitted. " Oh, I must get going, I promised to meet someone in an hour."
" You're leaving early, then?" Hermione asked.
" Indeed." Professor McGonagall put her hand on Hermione's shoulder. " You were always a good student. One of my favorites, Mrs. Potter, and Harry was also a favorite. I can't stress enough about how happy I am to see you two together." She added: " By the way, is Mr. Ronald Weasley romantically involved . . .?"
" There's a girl, Virginia Coolick. She is his partner in the broomstick store Ron's handling." Hermione said.
" Oh! Have you met her?" Professor McGonagall asked.
" I have. She's very pleasant. She's three years his senior, but the sweetest girl you'll ever meet. Positively admirable, in words and actions, a real angel." Hermione paused to add: " Though Ron had been going with Lavender, on and off, for a few years now. Virginia might only be something for Ron to contend with in between the periods in which he's with Lavender."
" That Lavender. She's a bit of a coquette, in my opinion." Professor McGonagall frowned. " No matter, I really am running late. You will excuse me, won't you, dear?" She gave Hermione a stiff smile.
" Sure." Hermione smiled back. " Thank you for coming!"
" All my pleasure." Professor McGonagall walked to the back of the room, where a fireplace was crackling. Harry had insisted to rent a room with a fireplace. She tossed a bit of Floo powder inside and was gone.
~*~
Harry and Ron both sat talking nervously now at their table. " Maybe we could be wrong, of course. Maybe Draco stepped out for a cigarette or something." Ron said, slowly.
" I haven't known him to smoke. He wouldn't touch them since they're Muggle things." Harry said. A few of the witches and wizards Harry knew had begun to smoke Muggle cigarettes. Harry didn't smoke and he refused to try it for he knew the things it did to people – the way the lungs would blacken, become sickly wheezing things slowly dying from the inside.
" He could be in the men's room." Ron suggested.
" Should we go check? It would feel stupid to blame him outright." Harry said.
" I guess we ought to check." Ron murmured. " Hope he doesn't take us wrong if we poke around looking for him in the bathroom." Ron stood up, taking another sip of champagne before banging the wineglass down again. " Let's go."
The room rushed by them as the two walked out into the hallway. They stopped. "Where's the bathroom, anyhow?" Ron asked.
" I think that it's to the left." Harry tried to recall to himself which way he was to go. " Yeah, I remember passing that little plaque with the little guy drawn on it." Harry turned left and Ron followed closely behind. Harry turned his head and asked: "So, how's it going with Virginia Coolick, anyhow?"
Ron smiled. " Virginia's alright." He put his hands into his pockets and then drew something out from his left one. He showed a wizard-picture to Harry. " That's us, last week, at the Annual Witch Carnival."
Harry looked at it and grinned. " She looks so happy, Ron."
" I know." Ron replied. " I'm ecstatic in the picture, too. Look at me." Harry did. Ron was grinning from ear to ear. His hand was around Virginia's shoulders. Virginia was a girl of average height, about six inches shorter then the 6 foot 1 inch Ron. Her hair was short and a very dark brown with reddish highlights twisted into it. Her face was kind and very round, her eyes framed with dark eyelashes, and the irises of her eyes were black as oil drops. She had a few freckles from the summer that had come to pass. She was rather pudgy but it made her look warmer and kinder, and nothing else.
" Why didn't you bring her along?" Harry asked.
" She's visiting her parents up in Greenwich." Ron explained.
" Oh! Is something wrong with them?" Harry and Ron were now walking by the kitchen rooms. Thick grayish smoke piled from the swinging doors, which were on two-way hinges and had no doorknobs or any lock on them for people kept exploding from inside with armfuls of trays. It smelled fabulous.
" Nope. Just a regular visit, since she says she likes to keep in update with them. You know how it is, when your folks get older." Ron suddenly stopped, realizing what he just said. " I'm sorry, Harry, I oughtn't have said that . . ."
" It's alright. It barely frazzles me to be reminded of my parent's death." Harry replied. They continued walking.
" Anyhow, ol' Virginia's great." Ron said, wistfully. " I always find it fun to talk to her. Criminey, does she talk a lot, though! I suppose that's one of her faults."
" To tell the truth, I think most girls talk a lot." Harry said. Images of the talkative Lavender, Parvati, Padme, and even Ginny filled Harry's mind. They stopped in front of the men's room.
The door had a little white plaque with the black shape of a man on it. Harry opened the door and stepped in.
(A/N: Since I have NEVER, ever rightfully even seen a men's room I will spare any description. All I know is that it differs from that of a woman's room).
Harry stopped by a sink and then leaned on it, looking around. " I don't think anyone's here. Draco?"
Nobody replied. Harry shrugged and then turned back to Ron. " Let's go see if he's outside. If not, well, we know what to expect."
Ron nodded. " That little punk." He murmured. " If he even touches Ginny against her will . . ." Ron punched a fist into the wall to prove his point, then recoiled. "OW!"
~*~
" What's wrong?" Ginny exclaimed, seeing how Draco looked so near tears. "Did I hurt your feelings?"
" Of course not! And if you did, I wouldn't go and sob my eyes out about it." Draco snapped. She looked at him angrily.
" Don't be so snappy." She scolded. " I'm just being concerned . . ."
" Well, if you must know, I'm reminiscing." Draco said. " About the past, mostly, things that could have been. I haven't had the happiest life recently, you know."
" I'm sorry." Ginny said.
Draco shifted. The wicker chair was really annoying him all of a sudden. " Hell, it feels like I'm sitting in a basket or something." He winced as the wicker chair handle poked heavily into his back.
Ginny laughed.
Draco looked up at her. He had never thought of himself as funny. Sarcastic, yes, depressed, yes, ironic, yes, but not humorous. His eyes narrowed. " I might as well ask about your problems now. Why were you crying, anyway?"
" It's a long story." Ginny said, tucking her legs up to her chest again, in a childish position, as if seeking for a hug or some affection of that sort, some bodily warmth next to her.
Draco sighed. He figured he hadn't anywhere better to be – sitting at a table, drinking? He might as well listen to her.
Ginny misinterpreted the way he leaned back and sighed as a sign of getting ready for the long story. "You're so sweet, to listen to me. Nobody listens, they just told me not to talk about it, since it would make me feel bad." She turned red. " I mean, you know, anyone who listens is sweet."
" Yeah, just talk." Draco didn't feel like listening to the small talk. He wanted to real thing. His head bumped the back of the wicker chair as he listened intently. " Well?"
" You see, I met this really nice guy. His name was Jason. He was really protective of me, and some people would tell me that's a warning sign that the guy's going to be trouble, but I didn't pay attention then." Ginny began.
Draco nodded to keep her going, and to reassure that he was paying attention and not dozing off.
" Jason was really with . . . with advancing in our relationship." Ginny's voice grew tight with tears. " He wanted me to do things." She stopped suddenly.
Draco knew what she meant quite well and he said: " You should have said no. Girls with no will power are no fun." He moved himself around in the wicker chair so he was sitting on the armrest instead. The stupid chair was impossible to be comfortable in unless someone was strapped with pillows.
" I couldn't. He'd hit me." She choked out. She was ready to cry again.
" Hey. Stop." Draco said, instantly. Watching her cry would make him go nuts, it really would. He didn't like it when girls cried, he felt like he didn't know what to do. Comforting them felt like being dishonorable to Pansy, and not comforting them felt like he was some sort of cold-hearted creep.
" I'm sorry." Ginny said. Finally, she continued, after swallowing down a few tearful sobs: " He'd hit me for anything, soon enough. And Jason kept telling me if I told anyone – he'd hit me again."
" It's only a threat. He wouldn't have." Draco said.
" I don't know." Ginny sighed. " All I know is, one day, Fred, George, Harry, and Ron walked in on him as he was hitting me. He slapped me so hard I . . . I fell to the ground, and I was bleeding, and . . ." She shook suddenly and another tear slipped from her eye.
Draco stood up. He didn't know what to do. " Hey, stop, stop! Don't cry so loud, for Wizard's sake. What if someone hears? They'll think I'm doing something . . . hey, hey!" He cried out, for she suddenly wrapped her arms around his middle and was sobbing into his stomach.
" I'm sorry! I'll get you in trouble . . ." She hugged him tighter, and then said: "Thanks for listening." She wiped her eyes and then let go of him. Draco felt numb with shock.
" Well – uh – you're welcome." Suddenly, he felt he ought to tell her about Pansy, as well. He hadn't told anyone about his feelings, much. Ever since Pansy had died, he locked himself away from his parents (from his father especially), from his few friends, and generally from everyone else. " Hey, how about I tell you something. I won't tell what you said if you won't tell what I said."
She looked at him. " I . . . I guess."
He looked back at the wicker chair. He didn't want to suffer the torture of that stupid chair, so he plopped himself down on the leather couch, a good two feet away from where Ginny sat. " Listen, then. I haven't told anyone, so you damn better know that you gotta keep it to yourself. Got it?"
Ginny nodded. " Why are you telling me, then?"
" Because . . . well, we've both been through things, right?"
She nodded.
" And you told me about your worries. It seems fair if I told you my sob story, right?" Draco watched her nod again. He sighed again and then leaned back on the leather couch, his body melting into the soft black folds of the leather. He felt relaxed, his mind focused, and for the first time in a year, he felt ready to talk. " I was dating Pansy for a long time, you know. Ever since when I was in the middle of my sixteenth year." Draco stopped and then pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and then passed it to Ginny. " Hey, wipe your nose, will you?"
She laughed, shaking her head, and then took the handkerchief. Her fingers traced the stitched 'DM' on it. Then, she pressed it to her nose, and spoke, muffled by the material: " I'm guessing you won't want it back?"
" Nope." Draco smiled. It felt like ages since he last smiled, for real. " You see, Pansy was great for me. She seemed to listen. I always needed someone to listen, you know. People always like to label. I was so used to being labeled evil and mean, because of my family name, that by the time I got to Hogwarts that's what I lived up to. And I guess I still do."
" That's kind of sad." Ginny said.
" Yeah, well, I'm not looking for pity or anything, so don't." He propped his head up on his hand, his elbow resting on the armrest. " Pansy and I – we were engaged. We were going to be married this summer. She and I made a date on the day of Potter's wedding. I was going to go, I even sent an RSVP and all that good crap." Draco let out a wavering breath. " I was walking – and saw her just standing there across the street, waving to me, laughing."
Ginny nodded slowly, her stomach lurching, knowing what to expect to come up next. Draco looked at her and said: " She was like you, in a way." His voice cracked. "At least, around me. She was always so damn happy, and you couldn't peel the smile off her face with a crowbar. Well, maybe not like you at the MOMENT . . ." Draco looked at Ginny, her eyes horribly puffy from crying, her face twisted in a frown, trails of tears on her face.
She grinned.
" Let me guess, I'm funny." Draco leaned his head back, resting it on the top of the couch, examining the pattern of tiles on the ceiling. " There she was, I can see it, practically. Her blue and green sundress flapping in the sun. She always walked fast, and when she saw me, she just dashed out onto the Muggle street. Some idiot that knew about as much about driving as I do was just speeding his brains out on the road. I don't even know how to explain it – suddenly, I just felt so sick, and there was this awful thump sound, and she was tossed to the curb . . ."
" Oh!" Ginny let out her breath quickly and sharply, as if she had just seen or heard something so horrible and unspeakable that it could only be expressed in that half-breath.
" They came to take her away, in those little white things, ambulances, with the noisy flashing lights. They took me, the police, and drove me to the hospital. I was so out of it, it was as if I was the one hit by the car or something." Draco stopped, his voice crackling again. He didn't know if he ought to continue. Malfoys don't tell people their feelings – and especially not to Weasleys. But it felt so right!
" I'm so sorry." Ginny whispered.
Draco looked at her, suddenly, for the first time really looking into her eyes, ready to talk eye-to-eye, instead of cowering. He figured it was only his own choice, his own mistake, if he told a Weasley his problems. " They put her in this hospital bed – God, she looked dead already – all white-covered, the room white, like some sort of miniature Heaven." Draco felt a shiver go down his spine as he relived the memory. " I went up to her bed, they let me see her, just in case - - well, you know. She was still conscious, but bleeding so bad, and she took my hand and squeezed it, and said 'I love you'. Then her hand felt so limp and cold, and they wheeled her away. Just wheeled her away, damn it." Draco was breathing heavily, his chest going up and down in anger.
Ginny sighed. "That's terrible."
" I never - - got to talk to her again." Draco stopped there. " That's basically it. The end of my life, there."
" You can't say that. You have to be able to move on, you know."
Draco couldn't even explain it, but suddenly he let out all the tears he had never allowed himself to truly shed. All the Malfoy pride and honor for years held and pampered was released.
And then, suddenly, Ginny kissed him, probably to comfort him, but it still came to him as a freezing-cold shock.
And the next shock – two dark shapes in the doorway.
~*~
Ron and Harry, a little while back, were running down the hall. Ron paused, his hair messily scattered on his forehead. " I can't - - let's just peek into the doors of the rooms or something, okay? I can't run for shit."
Harry nodded. He disliked profanity but it seemed Ron had grown fond of it over the years. Harry looked to the right of the hallway. " You hear that?" He said, all of a sudden.
" It sounds like a girl crying." Ron exclaimed.
" You don't think . . .?" Harry asked, in horror. They both slowly began to creep down the hall. If Draco was doing some sort of dirty, unearthly thing to Ginny, they might as well nab him when he didn't expect them. They waited a few minutes before the doorway, hesitating. What if it was someone else in there and something different was going on? How embarrassing would that be, then!
Harry thought about Hermione just then. If Draco would attack him, and kill him, he wondered if Hermione would know he loved her more then anything. Harry shook the thought from his head. That wouldn't happen, in the first place, and in the second place, Hermione of course knew of Harry's affection. Harry told her about a million times a day, and then some.
Harry and Ron exchanged glances and then ran into the doorway of the room. There was Draco, and Ginny and he were kissing. Ginny's face was streaked with tears.
" You . . ." Ron screeched, adding a very, very mean profanity at the end that happened to start with 'B' and had 7 letters in it.
~*~
A/N: I end here, once again, because I can't type fast enough. Yeah, that's it. No, actually, I want reviews. And there will be more, whether I get reviews or not, no worries.
But I would really appreciate reviews. What do you think? In character (at least in accordance to plot)? Good story line? Alright spelling/grammar? Please say something at least.
P.S. I am forever grateful to those who reviewed so far.
(Gary Skinner you read pretty much all my fiction, almost, so I am really grateful for your kind words, which not once said anything mean. I really, really appreciate it)!