Alternate Ending for "Anniversary" suggested by Dick Wightman

(This is an alternate ending that I proposed to LittleMaggie. I don't disagree with her conclusion that a successful pairing of Draco and Ginny is unlikely, but incurable romantic that I am, I felt that at least a window of opportunity should be left open. I pick the story up here, with Draco watching Devin in the ice cream parlor. It stays exactly as you wrote it for quite awhile… until the Weasleys are leaving the party, but I think you need to start here to see what I have built on… My changes are in italics.)

Draco's heart suddenly squeezed. Devin was feeding a ghost. A ghost of a love that could never be fed, ever again, and yet Devin did it. The ice cream that was to be his mother's was melting from the warmth and lights in the shop, but Devin kept it there, waiting to see when it would slowly perhaps be eaten by the ghost - waiting for what will never come, for what lingered in the past.

Draco felt a catch in his stomach, a pull that hurt. He had been romancing a ghost as well - the ghost of Pansy. He had been a complete and total reject of love and the opposite sex ever since her death. There had not been a day when he hadn't reflected on her, when he hadn't piled ice cream for Pansy, this syrup-sweet bowl of devotion that was of no use anymore. If someone was to consume that bowl, it would have to be someone else.

The ghost of romance that Draco had been holding so close needed to be able to escape. Suddenly, Draco turned around, his heart beating wildly. This was it. He had to stop offering his affection to something that was gone forever, that was in his past. How stupid could he have been, to jerk away whatever he had let Ginny taste, for a while, only to return to a sorry state - like Devin.

Devin, sitting there all alone, feet swinging up above the floor, tiny sneakers streaked with mud, speaking to his mother, offering her ice cream that wasn't being eaten. Draco walked quickly down the street in the opposite direction. He found himself standing in front of the flower shop again. With a flourish, he burst inside, the bells jangling overhead, and he stopped in front of the shop owner's desk. The man looked up, tiny metal-rimmed glasses perched on a long hooked nose.

"May I help you, young man?"

" I want some flowers." Draco said. A weight lifted from his heart. God, was it good, to buy flowers again. To have someone to buy flowers for. To have flowers in his hand. God, was it good!

The man smiled. " What occasion?"

Draco remembered that the last time he had purchased flowers, they were wrapped in a black ribbon, put onto the top of a handsome oak casket, which was lowered into the soft folds of Earth, never to see the world again. Inside that casket was Pansy, Pansy that had faded away right before his own eyes. The siren noise flashed in his mind again, the blinking lights of the ambulance. He almost backed away, then bit his lower lip, stiffly: " In a form of apology, sir."

" Apology." He took in a deep breath. His nostrils flared and then flattened against the hooked nose, that of a hawk's. The man asked: " May I ask to whom? Relative, friend, otherwise?"

` What is this? 20 Questions?' Draco thought, feeling a sudden anger. It was entirely his own private damn business what he wanted to buy and to whom. He could be buying flowers for his dog for all anyone cared. " To a girl." Draco said.

" Ah!" The man grinned happily. " I will be right back." He ducked into a backroom. Draco stood before the desk, twiddling his thumbs a bit like some sort of nervous love-struck teenager. His eyes fell upon a lovely flower arrangement, until he read the words on it: ` In deepest Memory of ______________'. Draco remembered Pansy's funeral once again.

//\\Flashback//\\

A thin drizzle was falling, the ground a muddy mess beneath his feet. All around him were people he had invited - Parkinsons and Malfoys. Nobody other then that, not even Crabbe and Goyle. He didn't want anyone else to see Pansy, his beautiful, beautiful Pansy, lowered into the ground. The Parkinsons had asked some sort of man to come to give a bit of a blessing for the funeral. Draco did not know what religion they were - if they were any - but it felt comforting to listen to the man. He told of Pansy and the good things she had done, speaking of her in ways she had never been spoken of in real life.

Then, the man asked if anyone wanted to say anything. ` Yes! I do!' Draco wanted to shout, to begin telling everyone who Pansy was to him, how it was completely unfair that it was her in that cold wooden casket.

The drizzle turned into a downpour, howling in Draco's ears. Men with shovels began to push heavy clumps of soil over onto the casket. The mud fell heavily on the casket. Draco watched as people began to walk away, shielding themselves from the rain.

But who was shielding Pansy? They would all go off and home to eat dinner by candlelight, to sleep on their feather beds, to make love to their partners, to dream sweet dreams. Pansy was in her mud-spattered, cold, wet casket. Draco remained standing in front of the grave, watching as the men buried it. Not even when Mrs. Parkinson came up to him, telling him they will take him home, did he willingly go.

He slowly turned away, listening to the crunch-swish sound of the ground being broken up wit the stiff metal shovels and then heaved onto Pansy. It was the single most horrible moment of his life, the one that remained like a twisted image in a shattered mirror - seven years bad luck.

//\\ end of flashback //\\

The man returned from the backroom holding a happy bouquet of roses like the one that had pushed the pansies out of their display in the store window. Draco looked at them and nodded. "Yes, I'll take those, but I would also like some pansies. I saw some nice pansies in the window display on the way by a few minutes ago."

" Those hideous old things? I tossed them out." The man exclaimed.

" I'd like them, please." Draco said, firmly. The man shrugged and then went to the garbage bag by the door. He dug the flowers out. The flowers weren't even wilted; they were simply not in the style now for the winter. They were also not very pretty pansies.

" You can have them, gratis to the shop." The man said, then handed them to Draco. " Would you like some foil or a ribbon to wrap that up for you?"

" No." Draco said. "No, they are pansies, and that is the only thing that is important." He hugged them to himself and then left the store.

Chapter 5

Ginny jerked the cold handle of the brush through her hair. The two chopsticks lay on the counter of the bathroom, both slightly tangled in single strands of hair. Having unusually thick, bouncy hair, Ginny had the most awful time getting it combed. Usually people comb their hair on the surface and it'll be fine. Her hair was so thick the brush's bristles didn't go through her hair entirely, leaving the underside of her hair matted and tangled. Ginny had to tilt her head to the side and then comb from the bottom as well, which was not only annoying but painful as well. Her dress was drying out a bit. Since she was in the confines of the ladies' room, she had locked the door and then unzipped her dress, leaving it on the heater in the corner of the room to dry up a bit.

She stood in her slip and in an undershirt that she'd worn since the fancy stitching on her dress irritated her skin unless she had something to shield her neck and chest from it. Despite her tries, her eyes looked dark now, almost frightening in effect, due to the fact that her mascara had run. Nearly every lady knows (and gentlemen can imagine) what murder it can be to wash black ink-like substance off your face with only your hands and very stale, tepid water that smelled of rust.

Ginny dipped her hand under the sink, the water splashing away black streaks that ran down her fingers. The warm atmosphere in the bathroom gave her comfort and she moved freely inside it. She looked into the mirror again, trying to analyze what she saw. It had been a while since she had last cut her hair. Molly Weasley would usually cut the Weasley's hair, or Arthur if he had time, but nevertheless neither of these people had any knowledge in fashionable haircuts.

Ron was prime example. Since the Weasleys were very interested in saving money lately, Ron had his hair cut by Arthur. Now Ron had an interesting haircut where he had very wispy bangs in front, which were short, like baby hairs. In the back his hair was longer, and it looked slightly spiked on top. It looked rather odd, as if someone had cut it different lengths all over. Ginny had saved her hair for a long time to keep it from being cut, for reasons she didn't want to explain to her parents. Now she wondered if she looked ugly with her hair that way.

Was this the reason Draco might have been so - repulsed - kissing her? It couldn't have been, though! Pansy wasn't attractive either, but Draco had no problem with her. Ginny heard a rap on the door. She turned to look at the doorway and she said, softly:

"Who is it?"

" Ginny, is that you in there?" Hermione's voice asked.

" Yes." Ginny replied, scurrying to the heater to get her dress.

" Can I come in?" Hermione sounded very kind and gentle.

Ginny shook her head and then realized Hermione couldn't see her shake her head so she called out: " No. Sorry."

Hermione was silent for a moment. " I hope you're not crying?" Hermione questioned.

" No." Ginny said, pulling the warm and still semi-wet dress onto her. She had trouble zipping it in the back. Molly Weasley had zipped it up for her when she was dressing earlier in the afternoon.

" Ginny, I know that you're upset about Draco. Please don't lock yourself up in there like this." Hermione sounded very upset.

" I'm just drying my dress out. I was outside, remember?" Ginny replied. This was partially true, after all.

Hermione shook her head. " I hope so."

" I'm fine, really." Ginny wiped at her eyes furiously with the paper towel in her hand. She knew her mascara was even more smeared now. It looked as if she had been crying for hours on end. She debated whether to open the door or not. Finally, Ginny jerked the bathroom door open.

" Oh! You have been crying!" Hermione exclaimed when she caught sight of Ginny and the mascara that had run from her eyelashes and to where it ought not to be on her face.

" No, it's not what you think. I've just smudged it, myself." Ginny explained, but she could see Hermione didn't believe her.

" You know, Ginny, there are plenty of fish in the sea." Hermione began.

" Please, it isn't like that at all! Don't worry about me, I'm fine."

" Well, I hope this isn't what I think it is." Hermione looked at Ginny with understanding eyes. " If you'd like to talk to me about anything, I'm always here. I can listen to you, if you really wish to speak about something."

Ginny nodded slowly. " I guess there is something I'd like to talk to you about." Ginny admitted.

Hermione sat down on the counter of the sink and said: "I'm all ears."

~*~

Ron grinned. " Hey, Fred, how about another drink?"

Fred shook his head. " I think that's enough for you, Ron."

Ron looked disgruntled as he set the glass down. It left a wet ring on the table where he had it last. Both he and Fred stared at the wet ring for a while. " I think we ought to tell Harry to pack the party up."

" Yeah, that's what I was thinking. It's really late."

" Actually, I'm more worried about Ginny. I think we ought to take her home." Fred leaned on his elbow and then looked down at the floor, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, a bit nervously. " I've never seen her so upset. Not even after Jason."

" I don't know. It seems she was more upset after Jason."

" Well, nevertheless! It doesn't even matter now when she was more upset. I'm telling Harry to wrap the party up." Ron stood up and then went with Fred to tell Harry about how it was definitely time to end the party.

~*~

" Ginny, listen." Hermione put her hand on Ginny's shoulder. " I've listened you out. And I'm sorry but I think that, honestly, Draco won't come back. He's just - - I don't know, I guess he's just not your perfect match."

" No, it's alright, I understand." Ginny whispered, her lips numb from crying. A tear split away from one of her eyelashes where it had rested momentarily. It splashed wetly on Hermione's elbow.

" Chin up!" Hermione tilted Ginny's chin upwards. " You're like my little sister, Ginny, and I won't let some stringbean punk hurt your feelings."

" That's right." Ginny frowned, her red hair fluttering around her head angrily as she stood up, shaking her head. " I won't let this get me down!" Her breath came out in short, quick gasps. " I've had enough of waiting on a man when they don't care about me!" Her chest heaved up and down as she let out a shaky sigh. " But I'll miss him."

Hermione nodded slowly. "Draco's - well - shaken up emotionally. I don't think he's ever been normal. He was always a bit odd to me."

Ginny hugged Hermione. " Thank you, Herm. I'll remember your words of advice." Ginny's tears were cold through the fabric of Hermione's shirt.

" Don't cry anymore. Strong girls don't cry. Chin up, darling, chin up." Hermione laughed. " Just like Professor McGonagall when she was teaching the girls the proper way to walk through the outdoors graduation set for the graduation ceremony."

" I still can't believe it rained at the end of the graduation." Ginny huffed out, laughing. " Mine was perfectly sunny."

" Well, Harry did end up destroying You-Know-Who at the end of the graduation ceremony. Perhaps it matched the - well - mood of the event, if you know what I mean." Hermione pushed an escaped strand of hair back behind her ear. " Now, let's go back to the party, alright?"

" Alright." Ginny felt lighter then a feather as she left the bathroom.

~*~

Harry approached Hermione just as Hermione walked into the room, Ginny beside her. Harry turned to Ginny and said, softly: "Excuse us for a minute, okay?"

Ginny nodded and Harry and Hermione split aside from Ginny.

" Harry, what is it?" Hermione asked.

" I think we should get going. It's late, and I'm worried about Ginny. If Draco returns for some reason . . ."

" He won't. I know it." Hermione replied. " Woman's intuition."

Harry smiled. " Thank goodness that one of us has a sixth sense. I seem to believe Draco will return."

" He won't." Hermione said, firmly. " And that's that."

" Nevertheless, we should wrap this party up a bit, so then we can go home, don't you think?" Harry put his arms around her, Hermione's rounded stomach brushing his own. " We have gifts to try out."

Hermione shook her head, chuckling, and then said: " I'll break the bad news, alright?"

" I'll tell the guys, SOME of them are a bit rowdy and it's not from fizzy cola." Harry walked over to Oliver Wood's table, where there seemed to be a separate party of its own.

~*~

Ginny sat in the dark and cold coat room, watching guests leaving the banquet areas. The parking lot was slowly emptied as wizards-posing-as-Muggles drove away in cars, however poor their driving abilities were. Ginny finally stood up when Fred and George walked by.

" Come on, Ginny, no use moping about it. Draco's gone, and be glad." Fred said, with a lopsided grin. George nodded.

" Does everyone know about this?" Ginny asked, embarrassed.

" Just people that won't hold it against you." Ron said, then turned to Molly and Arthur Weasley behind him. " Mum, dad, do you think we should go by Floo powder and shrink that crummy Muggle car so we can carry it home?"

" I think that'd be a good idea. I'm tired of hour-long struggles to get it started," Mr. Weasley admitted. " Come along, Ginny."

"No, dad, I need to think a bit. I'll be home in a little while," she replied.

Mr. Weasley gave her a worried look and started to protest, but Molly gave him a nudge and a meaningful look and led him out.

~*~

Draco was standing at Pansy's grave. He had dug a hole in the snow, and the bunch of pansies from the flower store were resting in front of the stone. "Pansy", he thought, "You were one bright spot in my dark life. I wish we could have had a life together, and I don't know why that didn't happen, but I'm sorry… not only for our loss, but for my failure to understand what your presence in my life meant. You showed me that a Malfoy could be happy. When you died, I forgot that, and I apologize to you. Tonight I met someone, Ginny Weasley. You probably remember her. I don't know if she will be important to me or not. It would probably be better for her is she weren't, I certainly didn't make her happy for meeting me. But she showed me that I could look outside myself, that I could recognize pain in another, and that there was still more to life than being a Malfoy. I'm sorry, I should have learned that lesson from you."

~*~

Ginny waited till everyone was gone, then went out and slowly walked back to the park. Somehow, she didn't seem to notice the cold or snow. At the park, she went in. Draco was nowhere to be seen, and she cleared the snow and sat down on the bench. She felt sad, and a bit angry with her family, though she knew they only loved her and were concerned for her. She wondered where Draco had gone, what he was thinking now. Could she and Draco really mean as much to each other as it seemed?

Perhaps, but then, perhaps not. Draco was right that there was much working against it. She sat for awhile longer, thinking the evening over almost minute by minute. As time passed, she realized that for the first time in a long while, she was contemplating and reacting to new events in her life… not Jason and the past.

Perhaps it was time, she realized, to move on with her life. Certainly, she thought with a smile, it was time to move off of this cold park bench and go home. It was unlikely that she and Draco had a future together, but whether she saw him again or not, she would always be grateful to him and think of him as the handsome prince who woke her up from her troubled sleep.

~*~ An hour later ~*~

Draco had a hard time finding the right place. Finally he stood before the banquet halls. He walked inside and then found Banquet Hall 14, and through the wooden doors with the flickering `Exit' sign he went, looking around the dark and empty room. Some Muggle man was vacuuming the carpet in the back and a woman was trying to clear dishes from the table. They both looked up as Draco stood there, feeling numb. She had gone. She didn't wait for him. She had lost hope in him. He didn't know where they lived.

He had once known, but he couldn't remember now, he hadn't even been anywhere near the neighborhood the Weasleys lived in for a while. He doubted the Potters or Weasleys wouldn't invite him anywhere again. He had lost so much and so often. Perhaps he had lost once more and he would never see her again, or perhaps he might. Whatever happened, though, he would always be grateful to her.

She had brought him out of the depths of his grief and helped him to realize what he was doing with his life, and how that dishonored the memory of Pansy. She had helped him to realize it was time to move on. He left the hall and walked back to the park. There was no one there. He left the roses on the bench and walked off into the snowy night.

~*~ THE END ~*~

(Thank you for the lovely Alternative Ending! – From Maggie… I will post anything anyone else likes to come up with.)