It was supposed to be casual. They were never supposed to be serious about each other, hell, they were never supposed to be anything to each other. And yet, through sideways glances and carefully accidental touches, each kindled something in the other until to be apart was impossible, a physical pain that couldn't be ignored or assuaged. He broke first, to her triumph, grasping her hand in a crushing grip after she brushed it over his in a move too casual to be real. Without the slightest heed to their surroundings, he pressed her against the wall, her hand pinned over her head as he discarded all pretenses and kissed her with all the rage and passion, curiosity and longing, desire and pain and everything else that he felt, that he was.
She kissed him back, fiercely, and the rest of the world might as well not have existed. Dimly, enough awareness filtered in that they became aware that they were alone, but that it might not last. Stumbling, they moved through the hallways of Hogwarts until they came to a place where no one would see them, where they could lock the door and confine the world to only what was inside its walls. They touched, and they kissed, but more than anything they talked. He told her about his life, the bad parts that everyone knew about, and the good that no one would have suspected existed within the household of a Death Eater. In turn, she told him about her own life, about the fun and joy of a large, rambunctious and loving household, but also of the isolation that no one would acknowledge existed within a clan like the Weasleys.
It took a hundred afternoons, countless stolen moments, a thousand sweet caresses and a single, precious time of having walked together in the sunlight, hand in hand, before it ever occurred to them that what they had was not in any way casual. There would be no way of letting go easily. And soon, soon the artificial calm of the idyll that Dumbledore strove to provide for his students would be ripped away, and they would have to face choices that would pull them irrevocably apart.
The first crack to show was when Ron, to his sister's horror, was involved in a fight against odds that no teenage boy should ever face. He survived, but only because the Death Eaters who had kidnapped him from Hogsmeade had intended him to. Harry's eyes had filled with tears as Hermione fumed and swore and screamed to the heavens that she would have vengeance. Ginny had laughed, laughed until her sides hurt and her face streamed, and it took a sharp slap before she gained control of herself once more. Draco had attempted to comfort her, something he did not know how to do, and she had simply shook her head and held on to him as if he was the only solid thing in a shifting world.
Still, something had changed, and Ginny's eyes became permanently downcast as her heart and conscience warred within her. Draco used every dirty trick in his arsenal to prevent her from leaving him, but he could feel her slipping away, to someplace inside herself that even she couldn't reach.
When he would have despaired, the worst happened, and made things better. Draco and Ginny had been lying together, curled up and sated, in a hotel room that Draco had apparated them to while their classmates were wandering around the streets of Hogsmeade, when Lucius Malfoy had arrived to see his son. What saved them was that Draco had been lying awake and staring at the ceiling, and before his father could take breath to rage, Draco had cast a memory charm and apparated Ginny to safety.
Unfortunately, the safest place he could think of under stress was Ginny's home, and her parents had been displeased, to say the least, at seeing their daughter, wearing only a sheet, being held by a naked Malfoy. He had left her behind in order to deal with his father, whose memory was only modified enough to believe that Draco had been alone, and that the time had only passed in idle chit-chat. Draco returned to Hogwarts, ostensibly to gather his things before joining his father, only to find that Ginny was not there.
She was at home, although Draco could not tell, from the sputterings of her elder brother, if she was in disgrace for having allowed herself to be seduced, or being cosseted because she had been ensorcelled and taken advantage of. In either case, she was being kept away from him.
It was not to be borne. Draco gathered his things, after all, the key to the family vaults that he had been given sole control over upon Lucius's imprisonment, and his broomstick. The rest he looked over and then shrugged, leaving it behind.
He flew like a demon, and soon he was outside her window. She threw it open and they stared at each other, her leaning out and him hovering just below her, the night still and soft around them. Finally, the silence was broken by his whisper. "Come with me."
She looked at him gravely, knowing that what he meant was forever. She looked back, at the room that held memories of all the love and joy her family had brought her, and knew that it was time to say goodbye. Closing her eyes to hold back the tears that threatened, she held her hand out to him and said, "Yes."
~*~
This was an hour challenge, written to lyrics chosen by the lovely and ever-patient Aria. Just a bonbon for Valentine's Day.
