Chapter One: Bleeding Hearts and Broken Dreams
Disclaimer: The characters in this story pretty much all belong to J.K. Rowling. I should have been that smart.
A/N: Please pretty please review! I want to know if I should continue with this.
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"Love can sometimes be magic. But magic can sometimes just be an illusion." -Javan
The breeze billowed the white silk curtains, and set off the bittersweet music of a dozen silver wind chimes. Draco Malfoy tilted his head backwards and closed his eyes, as if the wind was a lover come to praise him. The warm Mediterranean air smelled of the sea, of a hundred restless summer dreams. From his spot on the balcony he could see the vast blue-green ocean, and the hundreds of little dots that were sailboats chasing the coming dusk. Soon the stars would come out, and Draco's eyes would drink in the beautiful night sky. Perhaps a few months ago he would have wondered if she was looking at the same exact star, feeling the same intense longing and need. Now he thought of her rarely, but his heart still quivered at her memory.
"I thought you would be here." A sultry, thickly accented voice whispered.
Draco turned to face the stunning beauty behind him. Standing in the doorway, she made no move to hide her nude form from his appraising eyes.
"You have no shame." Draco whispered to dark haired beauty.
She merely laughed, and crossed the stone balcony on bare feet. She was content to wrap her arms around him and nuzzle his back while he watched the setting sun. Draco still blushed at the feeling of her warm breath on the back of his neck, but he knew their time together was running out. He was growing bored, and soon her husband would return. It did not matter to Draco that she was married, or that she was over ten years his senior. He had learned that these older women made the best lovers. They would stalk after him, lusting after his youth and his noble good looks. They would pamper him with expensive gifts, and see to his every need. When he grew tired of them there were no frantic sobs or desperate screams, they simply went back to their husbands with a sly smile, while he moved on to find a new lover. Yes, Draco Malfoy was in demand indeed.
"Let's go to the bedroom." He whispered as the sun behind the horizon.
The beauty nodded, licking her red lips seductively. A eager chill ran up Draco's spine, but his face betrayed no emotion. It was this cool smugness that drove his lovers wild, that stoked their desire to please him to burning heights, might they crack that cold exterior just once. As she lead him into the dim light of the candlelight villa, Draco quickly turned to take one last took at the sky. The twinkling of the stars struck him with a odd sadness, but it was quickly chased away by the feeling of two lips being pressed so tightly against his own.
In the harsh light of morning, Draco felt less the dashing lover and more the pouting child. His lover would not awake, he suspected the white powder she had dropped into her wine at dinner played a large part in this. Her raspy snores were driving him mad, and she was getting lipstick all over his very expensive white sheets. With a heavy sigh Draco kicked free of the twisted covers, and padded barefoot across his bedroom. Clothes lay scattered across the floor, and Draco kicked a stray black bra with a look of disdain. He opened his bureau, digging around for a clean white shirt. He paused suddenly when his hand touched something smooth and cold. Giving a quick glance over his shoulder at the sleeping form on the bed, Draco pushed aside a pile of shirts and pulled out a small round picture frame. The girl in the picture smiled at him, wearing her head girl uniform from her seventh year. She had graduated nearly a year ago, but Draco doubted if she looked much different. The red hair would still be the same, the warm expecting smile, the bright sparkling blue eyes. Draco could remember when he first sent to Italy, to this villa that his family kept for their summer excursions. He had locked himself in this bedroom and lay listlessly in bed for days on end, crying salty hot tears. He had been forbidden to write, but the first thing Draco did when he arrived was to search the meandering cobblestone streets for a pet store.
When he finally found it he bought a stunning white owl, and sent letter after letter home to the head house elf, begging him to find a way to send a picture of her, any picture he could get his hands on. He missed the sight of her face so much. He wrote her letters as well, even though he knew her mother and brothers were reading them first, he filled them with the most beautiful words his aching heart could manage. She returned his letters with promises of eternal devotion, her love so clearly soaked into every single word, tear marks staining every page. Then Draco had slowly been dragged out his shell, introduced to beautiful women that fell over themselves to seduce him. He had vomited out of shame after he had given his virginity to Lady Carlotta, whose dark good looks were legendary. But these woman seemed such wild and wanton exotic creatures when compared to her pale freckled looks, her tense closed mouth kisses, and her shrill no's whenever he urged her for a mere touch. Draco did not intend for it to happen, but soon his scribbled letters became vague and unfeeling. Eventually her letters were ignored all together, tossed into the bottom drawer of his desk while he ran off to a ball, to meet a lover, to dine with a countess. When the house elf finally came through so many weeks later, Draco was shocked that he could no longer recognize the girl smiling back at him. She looked so different than the treasured image he had held in his memories, and sadly he barely recall what exactly it was that he saw in her.
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Ginny Weasley pressed her face against the cool glass window, watching the spring blossoms swaying in the gentle morning breeze. A few tears trickled down her cheeks, and she made no move to wipe them away. Today was her wedding day, it was supposed to be the happiest day of her life. Happy days had been few and in between since Draco had left her. The night of her graduation he had proposed, and she had gladly accepted. The next morning he had not returned as promised, and she had sat at this very window for two days, waiting for her love to return. The letter came on the third day, written in his mothers elegant handwriting. She made no excuses for herself, she explained it was nothing personal but she could not have a blood traitor marry her son. She had his bags waiting for him when he returned home that night. He was now in Italy, and if he ever wished to return home he would stay until she was forgotten.
Ginny had never known such pain before. It engulfed her completely, ripping at her soul and tearing at her heart. She stayed in bed for weeks, ignoring her family's attempts to coax her out of bed and mother's fussing and speeches, "He was never right for you anyway, spoiled little prat. It's time for you to grow up and move on, this isn't healthy." It seemed that she lived everyday just to write to him, to pronounce her love over and over until her hand ached and her head spun. But then his letters grew strangely cold, which dragged her down even further into the depths of depression and sadness. She lost ten pounds waiting for the responses that would never come, and all the while she never stopped writing.
It was Hermione and Ron's wedding that had saved her in the end. She could think of a good enough excuse not to go, and Hermione had made her maid of honor. The night of the wedding was a painful affair for Ginny, full of rich nauseating food, laughter that she could not share in, and smiling faces that did not match her own gloomy expression. All the while Ginny could not stop thinking that it should be her in that precious white dress, her life beginning at last. After Hermione and Ron had cut the cake, Ginny and ducked outside into the garden for some air. She was shocked to find Neville Longbottom outside also, sweating in the August heat. He had turned out to be a handsome young man, with a sweet smile and a kind disposition.
"What are you doing out here Neville?" She asked.
"I felt strange I guess." Neville shrugged. "I haven't seen anyone since we've been out of school."
Ginny forced a smile. Poor Neville! She had heard that his grandmother's health had been quickly fading, and he was stuck at home caring for her. She had seen her vague insults first hand, and knew that it must be hard to care for such a woman day after day.
"How is your grandmother?" Ginny asked, placing her hand on Neville's forearm.
He blinked for several moments, his mouth closed tightly in a firm line.
"She...she died two weeks ago." Neville whispered. "I-I thought you might have heard."
Ginny was dumbstruck, unsure of what to say. She suddenly felt so very selfish, here she had been thinking that she was in the worst spot in the world...but at least she had a family.
"I'm am so sorry Neville." Ginny squeezed his arm harder. "If you ever need anything..."
"Actually." Neville said, taking a deep breath. "I was wondering if you might ever...want to meet...meet in Diagon Alley for tea or something?"
Ginny quickly removed her hand, and then mentally cursed herself. First she had brought up his dead grandmother, and now she had probably insulted him. To her surprise Neville did not look angry or hurt, just mildly surprised.
"I mean, your mother said that you were lonely, and I thought that..." He then sighed and looked up at the darkening night sky. "Why am I such an idiot?"
"Oh Neville...It's just that, I've just broken it off with somebody, and it's been really hard. I don't think I want to jump into anything right away."
"Draco Malfoy?" Neville said, looking oddly sympathetic. "Your mother told me."
"Ah." Ginny smirked and kicked at a stray rock. "That figures. What else did she say about me?"
"Nothing, just that you've been lonely and depressed, and it might help to get out into world again, meet knew people, that sort of thing."
"You don't think any less of me, do you?" Ginny whispered.
"No, of course not." Neville smiled warmly at her, and patted her hand. "I guess we really don't have much say in who we fall in love with, and even less when it comes to the ones that break our hearts."
Neville looked especially wistful when he said this, and it made a tinge of feeling start to return to Ginny's battered and broken heart.
"Would you still like to go out for tea?" She gave him a small smile.
There were many dates after that, and although it pained her that she could not force her heart to feel the same, there was a certain warmth in the knowledge that Neville Longbottom was falling in love with her. When he finally proposed on Christmas Eve, she knew she could not refuse him. It would crush his heart, and it would have been a great loss besides. Neville was kind hearted and well intentioned, he had a good position at the ministry, and they shared many of the same interests and friends. Ginny doubted that she could do better if she tried. Still, her heart ached for the man that had stolen her heart. Even when she was with Neville, thoughts of Draco were never far away.
It was not so odd then, that she found herself crying on her wedding day. Soon Hermione and her mother would come in to help her change. Her pristine white dress lay spread out on the bed, Ginny thought it made her took like a lifeless ghost, but she suspected that Neville would say she looked lovely anyway. A secret part of her had been hoping that Draco would have come back by now to tell her it had all been a mistake, that he still loved her. It was silly fantasy of course, but Ginny almost had herself believing it. She had even planned out what she would say to Neville when that day came, so it wouldn't break his heart too badly.
A soft knock on the door drew Ginny back to reality, and she quickly wiped away her tears with the back of her hand.
"Come in!" She called, wishing that she had a mirror nearby. Her face must look so puffy and horrible.
She suppressed a small groan when Neville poked his head in sheepishly, his hair still tousled from sleep. He had spent the night Charlie and Bill's old bedroom, while the rest of wedding party slept scattered throughout the house.
"Neville!" She exclaimed. "What are doing! That's bad luck."
"I just wanted to see you." He gave her a smile, which then oddly began to fade into more of a concerned look.
"What's wrong?" She asked, gesturing for him to come closer.
Neville took a seat next her, leaning his back against the window. He took a deep breath before he spoke.
"You're not having any doubts, are you?" He began. "Because if you are you can tell me, I don't want to force you into anything."
Ginny gave a sad little smile. The poor man looked like he was on the verge of tears.
"I'm sorry that I'll never been him." Neville whispered.
"Neville!" Ginny embraced him in a tight hug. "We are going to get married today, and then we are going to live happily ever after, alright?"
Neville laughed, hugging her back.
"I love you." He whispered.
"I love you too. But you have to leave before my mum see's you and has a fit! I'm supposed to be getting dressed already."
Neville smiled at her, and then gave her a long gentle kiss. Ginny shut her eyes, and forced all thoughts of Draco out of her mind. How could she make Neville worry so? With a sudden fiery resolve she urged all her thoughts towards Neville. She was going to be a good wife, she was going to be everything that kind sweet Neville deserved.
"That's enough mister." She said with a genuine smile. "Out!"
She might never grow to love him, at least not in the same way that she loved Draco. But the fondness she felt for him in that moment overpowering her completely.