Disclaimer: I own nothing. I'm just having some fun.
Brief Summary: It is hard to believe how two small people in one giant world can change the course of fate. Even further, it is difficult to fathom how such a remarkable event can be forgotten, changed and scattered, skewed and warped by the passage of time, and the efforts of those who find the truth too painful. But every once in a while, fate conspires, and one person who sees through time, lies, and pain can see the truth, setting the twisted blown glass back into crystal.
Part One: Draco
Chapter One
"And you'll never guess what he did next. Oh, never mind, I bet you could, you always do. He just said 'So what if she's a hippopatomus?' and walked away! Can you imagine? Calling his girlfriend a hippo and then actually having the nerve to expose his back to her!" Colin Creevey chuckled appreciatively at his supposedly clever take on what was an unavoidably mundane situation.
That was his problem. He couldn't separate the meaningful from the droll. And so Ginny learned to stop listening altogether. If what he was saying really had a purpose, he'd repeat. If not, well, then she had preserved her IQ for another day.
There! She saw him. Good, now she could really give him a piece of her mind…
"Ginny! Are you listening, dearest?"
"Yes, yes, of course, go on." Ginny didn't even have to look at him, now. She had the feigning interest tone down to the very last inflection on the "on"—a slight tilt upward as you spoke the word convinced the receptor that you were interested.
The sun glinting off the silvery sheen of his hair served as a Siren song for so many girls, but it only infuriated Ginny. What an insufferable, stuck-up, weasling little git he'd always been, and he certainly had not seen fit to get any better since he'd left Hogwarts! Figuratively, speaking, of course, because here he was, at Hogwarts, tormenting her day in and day out. What a loser.
"I tried to tell him it would happen, but really, you know he doesn't listen. Actually, he's kind of like you in that respect. Ginny!"
Ginny jumped slightly at the raised tone. "What?"
"I know you aren't listening to me! You know, you haven't really listened to me in quite some time. Are you ignoring me?" Colin's paranoid fretting registered in the corner of Ginny's attention span.
" 'Course not, why would I do that? Excuse me one moment, I'll be right back." And with that, she had pushed Colin aside yet again. Not that she was worried. He'd be waiting for her to return. He always was.
To be quite honest, the kid was rather annoying. Ginny had only gone out with him out of pity. Poor guy! He never could get and keep a girlfriend for very long, and it wasn't like Ginny was interested in anyone in particular, so she decided to give Creevey a go. Probably a mistake, but it was too late, now.
Ginny tried to thread her way through the crowd, but if she had learned one thing about a huge crowd of Hogwarts students milling about in a mass of inconsiderate, excited social flurry it was that bulldozing was much more effective.
But she finally reached him. Damn him, his robes were pristine and unwrinkled, midnight black with not a smudge of dirt or powdered sugar (it was a picnic, after all.) Crowds never seemed to take any toll on that boy, and it angered her even more. Why should he get to be so perfect, when he was so ugly and charred on the inside? Life never made much sense.
He turned and caught sight of her just as the sun filtered through a tangle of leaves and lanced into her eyes. She squinted, finally raising a hand. Was the whole world against her?
"Ah, Weasley. I'm so surprised to see you," he chuckled silkily.
She could tell he wasn't really surprised at all. Stupid, stupid boy.
"Malfoy, we need to talk."
"But, of course, ickle Ginny-kins. Follow me."
With a turn and a swish, he had headed for the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest, away from all the hubbub of the school picnic. Ginny had no choice but to follow. Oh, how she hated him.
A few rows of tall, dank trees in, and he showed no signs of stopping.
"Hey, this is good enough, thanks very much. No telling what kind of trap YOU'D lead me into," Ginny called out, irritated. Honestly, did he think she was born yesterday? She knew what kinds of things HE got up to.
"Oh, what's the matter? Don't you trust me, Weasley?" he simpered, whirling around. He knew she didn't, and he liked it that way. Anyone who trusted him was a two-day old moron and deserved to suffer the consequences.
"Well, let me think. Uh, no. Now, down to business," Ginny replied brusquely, not even pausing to "think."
"Of course. Always down to business with Ginny Weasley. Don't you ever have any fun?" He really and truly sounded disgusted.
"Well, not the kind of fun you mean, I'm sure. I'm a good guy. I don't play like you," she seethed.
"And I'm a bad guy," he muttered dangerously, but it sounded like he was asking for confirmation without asking. Typical male.
"Are you kidding me? The entire school, no, the entire wizarding world knows all about you, Draco Malfoy. You're rotten. You're one of the most rotten apples there are. You may have pulled the wool over a few people's eyes, and you may have convinced Dumbledore to give you a chance, but I know better, and I'm not the only one. I know why you're here," Ginny unleashed her pent-up frustration. The fact that everyone had been so willing to accept this little crumb standing before her had bothered her more than anyone knew.
"As do I," he replied coolly. "Internship with the Prophet. Hogwarts correspondent. Useful to have one these days, it seems, what with Voldemort back and precious little Potter being here."
"Bologna. That Daily Prophet internship is rubbish. It's real, I don't doubt that, but it's a cover. I know you're here to get Harry," Ginny accused, scoffing slightly. SHE was not blind.
"Well, I should hope the internship isn't rubbish. My father hit the roof when I told him I was going to be a writer. I'm sure he wanted me to be some Ministry official. It'd be more," here he paused, searching for the appropriate word. He was obviously uncomfortable. "Beneficial." His voice was strangely quiet. He cast his steely eyes on the foliage-littered forest floor.
Ginny snorted.
"Look, why don't you just say what you dragged me here to say?"
Ginny refrained from pointing out that she had followed him here, and had not, in fact, dragged him anywhere. "I'm tired of you slacking off."
Draco blinked.
"Yeah, that's right. I'm getting on your case, high and mighty senior press correspondent. You're always avoiding doing any of the work, and you stick me with it all. I don't even get paid! I'm just the junior press rep., and I go to school here! If you don't start actually DOING something, I'm going to Dumbledore about it."
"Just like the old days, eh?" He had recovered his usual sickening charm.
"Ok, you little twit, you listen, and you listen good. I'm tired of you. I've never liked you. In fact, I've always hated with you with the full force of my existence. You've tormented my family, you've screwed Harry over so many times, and you are insufferably evil. Do you not understand? You act as if I should be honored to even be in the same vicinity as you, but the truth is that I'd rather be in the vicinity of a rabid dragon! So stop pushing the work on me. I'm not going to carry you on my back. I'm not like all those other girls. You don't have any affect on me whatsoever!" By the time she was finished, Ginny's cheeks were flushed bright red and her voice had risen in pitch and volume so that it achieved a squeaky roar.
Eerie silence fell. The forest even seemed to hold its breath.
And then—"None at all?"
He had whispered it so softly. Had she even heard him correctly?
"What?" It was all she could force out.
And then he was right in front of her. Pinning her shoulders back against a tree. Pressing his mouth against hers.
Draco Malfoy kissed Ginny Weasley, thoroughly and completely.
And Ginny Weasley rather enjoyed it.
"Care to rescind your previous assertion?" he asked, grinning down at her, one eyebrow cocked cockily.
"I'm not sure. You know reporters. We need as much information as possible. Always hungry for more," Ginny looked back up, her eyes wide, breathless.
"Fine. We'll see about getting you some more." He lowered his face back to hers.
This time he was more gentle, twining one arm around her waist, the other slipping against the curve of her slender neck. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, also, and continued to enjoy herself.
And all this time, she'd thought she hated him.