COME AROUND
Disclaimer: I own Draco. I own Draco. I own Draco. Haha. I own his smirk, his sneer, his bad attitude, his sharp wit, his brattiness, his good looks, and basically everything good about him. JK Rowling owns everything else.
Author's Note: I felt like explaining my writer's block to you. In the hope of getting it out of my system completely. I have this storyline completed. I know exactly how to end it. I even know the theme song for the last chapter, which I will have to insist you download someday, because it's beautiful. I know how the last two or three chapters are going to go. The problem is in GETTING there. I've got this huge, HUUUUUGE gap to fill, and it's kinda draining. Not to mention the fact that school is too bloody evil for words. But I was really disappointed with myself. I'll have you know that I have NEVER finished one multiple-chapter fanfic. Seriously. And I figured I'd make this one the first. Cheers! EDIT: I loathe HTML. I loathe formatting. I hate it, hate it, HATE IT! *sigh*

For you.

--------------------

The ocean was crystalline, a blanket of glittering white and blue diamonds, darker than the cerulean sky, but infinitely paler, and both were so immensely beautiful that he found it difficult to compare them. He had five or six more hours before he had to meet up with Cho and discuss their precarious situation over freshly squeezed fruit drinks and plates of food.

He was dreading this meeting. Dreading, and anticipating. He liked to think there was no barrier between the two. They were one and the same, depending on your line of thinking. He wanted so badly to just forget about the whole affair, just let it slip from his mind and leave him in peace. For a while, Draco had actually thought he'd done it, forgotten about her. But her letter, in all its simplicity, had evoked such emotion from within him, something along the lines of nostalgia, and even longing, though he denied it profusely, even to himself.

You're such a sap.

Draco smirked wistfully to himself, remembering the good old days when he was the heartless, inherently evil Slytherin bastard, always ready to find any means possible to make trouble for everyone else.

You know, Draco, sometimes I think your crankiness was just a front.

He sat up, surprised that at the most inopportune time, her voice popped into his head. He recalled that day, that night. They'd spoken of things so superficial, yet so important. How had that conversation gone again? Draco immersed himself in the cool, clear water, and tried to remember everything.

A front? What do you mean?

She smiled at him then, pausing to think, to clarify her explanation. She was always so pretty when she was thinking, her expression made him think the matter would bring about the end of the world if she presented it wrongly, like it was a situation of life and death, so consequential that even she had to care about it. But it wasn't.

Hmm…well, you know, it's like you used your calm, collected, cruel demeanor to lock everyone out of yourself.

It shocked him, to be psycho-analysed in such a way. But he blocked the initial feeling of surprise out, and managed to smile in a clever manner. The smile that she'd always said she found so 'cute.' Well. He was cute, after all. Ha. Typical. Here he was, being narcissistic again.

Right. So, Doctor Freud, what's brought you to this conclusion?

She grinned, hit him gently on the arm, an arm which he casually draped across her shoulders. He felt her shudder. The grin left her face, and her seriousness reclaimed her.

The fact that you're sitting there, listening to me ramble about the inner workings of your mind, maybe? If you were really heartless, maybe you would have stood up by now, maybe you'd snap at me, sneer at me, and tell me how wrong I was. You'd curse me. You'd be so angry, you'd either hit me or storm out of the room. And you'd try to ruin my life. But you're not doing that, see? You're still sitting next to me, you're still talking and smiling with me, and we're both still here, on this balcony, staring up at the sky.

Do you like the sky, Cho?

Her sweet smile was so priceless, so genuine, that he'd never forgotten it. Even when he was angriest with her, that smile had brought him into the world of dreams, it had brought him warm, fuzzy feelings (which he secretly hated and secretly enjoyed, missed, even), it brought him peace in the night, when it was dark and all seemed lost.

Yes, I do. Very much.

Why?

She was silent for so long. Had he offended her in some way, by this question? Was it possible to offend someone with so vague a question to begin with?

I just do. When I look at the sky, be it day or night, I feel like I'm flying. Like I'm up there, somewhere, and I can see everyone else. I can see everything. I soar through the clouds, and shine like the sun, the moon, and the stars, and no one can stop me. I'm free. And sometimes, I look up at the sky and sense someone watching me. Watching over me. Always. Looking out for me, caring for me, and it's just a comfort to know that there will always be something there. The sky is always there, Draco. Even when my family's not there, when you're not there, it'll be there. It'll be there when I'm not here, anymore. It'll still be here, forever and ever, until the end of the world, for generations of dreamers to come. Dreamers like me. Lovers like us, who will look up at it and talk about things like this. And other things, too. People who will come to understand each other, and love each other completely, under the influence of this great canvas of colours, blues, whites, blacks, violets, oranges, yellows. The sky is beautiful. The sky is beauty, and the sky is love. The sky is memory. The sky is everything, Draco. It's everything to me, and I love it, I will always love it.

Cho wrapped her arms around him, leaned into him as the breeze blew their hair to mingle with the lights of the inky night sky. It was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever heard. Somehow, she had such an intimate connection to everything, she understood everything, and most importantly, she understood herself. It was something he didn't possess. He had never been attuned to himself. He was so used to denying, it was second nature to him. He was alone. Cho was alone, but somehow, she wasn't. Everything was a part of her.

It was something he would never have.

Do you like the sky, Draco?

He smiled softly, breathing in the jasmine scent of her hair and skin.

I'll answer that question on one condition.

What condition is that?

You don't ask me why.

Cho laughed gaily, and squeezed him a bit.

Why the hell not? You asked me why!

I'm afraid I won't be able to express myself as eloquently as you have.

Cho was silent. She understood, and she nodded her assent. Draco took a deep breath of the fresh night air.

I do. I love the sky. I can't find the words to explain it, but I can feel it, deep in my heart.

They were quiet then, letting no more words pass between them. They stole occasional glances at each other, small smiles and precious nothings, until Cho tightened her hold on him further, and he finally stopped resisting the urge to kiss her.

--------------------

She was immensely pleased that he'd agreed to have dinner with her. Cho was sprawled on a massage table, relaxing and winding down as the masseuse worked the tension and anxiety out of her exhausted muscles.

This is awful nice. Has Draco had this done?

What was Draco doing now, anyway? Cho grinned somewhat sadly. He was either swimming, tanning, or staring in the mirror and thinking of ways to make her feel guilty about what she did to him. Honestly, he didn't have to. She already felt guilty enough. More than guilty enough. She let a long, melancholy sigh out from her heart.

Narcissist.

Some people would never change.

You might be my significant other, but my relationship with reflective surfaces is, quite frankly, none of your business.

She resisted the urge to laugh out loud. She remembered that! God, it seemed so long ago sometimes, but she still remembered it. She'd laughed then, too. It was the truth. Nothing she did or said could ever part him from reflective surfaces. He subconsciously stared at them when he walked past any, and Cho had pointed this out to him one day.

You don't have to look in the mirror, Draco.

I don't?

She shook her head.

Nope.

He smirked slyly and gave her an artful glance.

And why don't I have to look in mirrors, Cho?

She sighed wearily then. She had, after all, asked for it.

I dunno, Draco. They might crack.

HA! She'd managed to find a way to say it without further inflating his immense, overflowing ego.

Ouuuuuch, Chang. Ouuuuuuuuuuch. Low blow! Low blow!

They kept tallies of the low blows they took on each other. So far, Draco's count was, surprisingly, at seventeen. Cho's was already at thirty-five.

I just can't seem to keep up with you, sweet.

No, you can't, laddie. I am unrivaled at low blows.

Evidently. But really, Cho, tell me the truth.

The truth about what?

Draco rolled his eyes and gave her shoulder a friendly squeeze.

The truth about me and mirrors! About why I don't have to look at them.

Cho laughed loudly, brushing her hair behind her ears and turning to face him, trying to look serious.

But I told you the truth, Draco.

No, you didn't!

Oh really? And how do you know I didn't? Have you got some fancy contraption in there, like a Sneakoscope or something?

No, I don't. Somehow, I can just feel that you're lying to me.

Cho did her best to look insulted. Offended. Appalled.

I am not!

Yes you are!

I so am not!

Admit it, Chang!

I'm no—oh, fine, fine, I am. I am lying to you, Draco. I actually meant to say that you already look so good, you could probably manage for the next ten years without a bloody mirror. There. Satisfied?

Draco beamed innocently at her.

Quite. But you know, sweet, I could say the same for you.

The same about what for me?

Draco groaned and threw his head back.

About you and the mirror, silly!

So what about me and the mirror?

Nothing. You don't need one. You're prettier than me, you're sure to manage perfectly well without one.

Why, thank you, Draco, it's awful nice of you to admit that there is indeed someone prettier than yourself. That is very, very, very humble of you, dear. I am so, so proud. My little baby is finally growing up! Humility! I never thought I'd see the day.

Draco shuffled his feet and stared at the ground.

Aww, shut up, silly.

Draco, you're so cute.

Thanks, Cho. I quite think so as well.

Cho scoffed at him, and jabbed him in good humour.

Nancy boy.

Socialite.

Narcissist.

Geek.

Brat.

Prima donna!

PERVERT!

Draco reacted a bit to that one. Cho supposed it took him by surprise.

Heeeeeey, I may be a bit of a pervert, but what have I done to you to merit that accusation?

Cho shrugged.

Absolutely nothing.

Draco laughed in triumph, and his eyes glinted with good cheer and a laugh.

Ha! So you are throwing false accusations around, too, eh, Chang, you bloody liar!

Shut up and walk, Draco.

And he did. Shut up and walk.

Such a long, long time ago. But it was as though it were only yesterday.

Cho glanced up at the ornate clock hanging on one of the hut's beams. Five o'clock. Little more than two hours to go until they would meet. She dropped off to sleep, letting the masseuse's hands run across her back.

--------------------

Author's Note: I know the flashback parts were kind of confusing. Hmm. They usually go alternate, I guess. Easiest way to tell which is which. YAY! I actually wrote a chapter. FINALLY. Hurrah for me! Review, willya? And if you have the time (and/or the patience) for Harry/Hermione romance, go hunt Anathema Amaranthine and read "Heaven." She's on FF.n. (Did I just rhyme?) Tell me what you think. I've been away from this so long, I'm worried I've lost the hang of it. They were already out of character to begin with, now, they might actually be intolerable.