It was a beautiful night.
The sky was clear, velvety blue and dotted with stars like tiny pinpricks of light. The air was pleasantly cool, with an occasional breeze that brought with it the sweet scent of roses in bloom, the faint clinks of glasses and plates, and the slight murmur of polite conversation.
Ginny walked over to a nearby stone bench. It was next to a fountain with a marble woman holding a jar from which was flowing a steady stream of clear, sparkling water. She gave Ginny a friendly smile as she approached, a small nod as Ginny smiled back, and then resumed pouring.
Ginny sat down, careful not to wrinkle the blood-red satin of her dress robes. She ran a hand through her hair, which she had let down for the evening, and continued to watch the dancing.
This year the Graduation Ball was held outside in the Hogwarts gardens, at one of the larger clearings. Not much was needed in the way of decorations, thanks to the natural beauty of the greenery. Light blue roses bloomed from garlands draped on chairs and tables, while fairies flitted from place to place, pleased to be called on to serve as decorative light sources.
It wasn't a very large affair, not really. It was just the graduates and their families. Although in Ginny's case, the family meant a fairly sizable total of eight people: herself, her parents, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred and George, with the graduate being Ron.
She searched for Ron, or, more specifically, his hair. She found him laughing with Harry and Hermione at a table near the small platform where the string quartet was playing.
Ginny watched them for a while, giggling as Hermione attempted to drag the resisting Ron and Harry towards the dance floor. But before she could find out who dragged who where, her attention was diverted to the tall, blond young man heading her way.
Draco Malfoy strolled over to the fountain and, making sure he wouldn't get wet, leaned on it. The marble woman caught Ginny's eye, jerked her head towards Draco and gave her a sly wink, which caused Ginny to cover up her laughter with a coughing fit.
Draco looked at her, his long, almost-silver eyes curious and mildly amused. She just shrugged, smiled at him, and went back to observing the dancers.
Somehow, the fact that he was right next to her didn't bother her as much anymore. After Voldemort died, everyone generally got along better with everyone else, including Draco. It probably had something to do with his father safely stowed away at St. Mungo's awaiting trial, which removed the one factor in his life that made him act like he did.
At least, that was her theory. She couldn't think of anything else to explain the fact that he had approached her a few days before to apologize for how he had acted towards her. He hadn't told her why he did so, even after she asked him. What was it that he had said?
"Honestly, Virginia. What's so bloody wrong with being sorry?"
It had taken her a few seconds to realize that a.) He didn't seem to be quite as nasty as usual, and b.) He had, for the first time in her memory, called her "Virginia".
She glanced at Draco, who was staring into the crowd with a thoughtful expression on his face. His arms were folded over his expensive-looking dress robes, which were either black or a very dark blue; in this light, she couldn't really tell.
He had a wonderful profile.
After a few more moments of thought, Draco turned to her and held out a hand that, under the bright light of the moon, looked like it was edged with silver.
In fact, the moonlight made everything look somewhat silvery, from the water flowing in the fountain behind him, to the hand she hesitantly placed in his.
He helped her up from the bench. As she looked up into his wonderfully gray eyes, there was that blasted moonlight again, giving his face highlights like unicorn's blood and turning his hair silvery-white.
Beautiful. So cold, so pale and so very, very beautiful.
Before she could figure out if that last thought was still about the moonlight, he spoke.
"Dance with me."
He sounded so confident. So sure of himself. And it was so typical of him to ask her like that, if you could even call that asking.
To ask her like he knew she would say yes. To ask her like he knew that she would dance with him. To ask her like the laws of nature dictated she should.
And she did.
With his right hand holding hers and his left hand on her waist, they danced, the people and lights and foliage blurring into one another to create a backdrop of colors that stood out against the darkness of the night sky.
She smiled at him and he smiled back, the corners of his mouth turning up just a little as he moved his left arm to draw her closer.
Then nothing else seemed to matter, because all she could see was him and the way he looked at her.
All she could feel was his touch and her hot blood rushing through her veins.
And all she could hear was the thundering of her heart and the faint strains of the "Blue Danube".
~fin~
A/N: My first attempt at a serious fic; hope you like it. Thanks to everyone who actually read it, and thanks in advance to everyone who's going to review or email and give me compliments and/or much needed constructive criticism.