In Times to Come
Author's Note: An odd sort of story that kind of popped up at me while working on another story. Started off with odd sort of ends then somehow ended like this. Short story short, here 'tis.
The winds always seem to blast by him, no matter where he seems to be, but he never even budges; he can't stop to look away for now…
He watches her toss the quaffle into the hoop and is somehow able to ignore how Gryffindor always manages to give out their loudest cheer. They do this every single time she scores, and by comparing to how well she played, it is quite a lot of times.
She flies especially well with her school broom, but she isn't very graceful. Sometimes when she swoops past near where he is and he notices how she has trimmed the twigs from the tail. He notices it is done with exceptional care but he doesn't really see the point of doing it in the first place.
He knows that she finds value within the most wretched of things, such as her hand-me-down robes or her tattered old school books. So it would be easy to believe that she, above all people, would value a school broom.
It was petty, but curious; almost disconcerting at times.
While some of her team mates collect glances and waves from the stands during the game, she always remains focused. As if nothing could possibly tear her away from her play, she is cautious yet an excellent player.
She gains a fair few goals on top of her opponent; this usually happens within the last half of the game; that is how he measures how long it will be until Potter catches the snitch. Which is altogether strange to him, as it almost makes him believe in the works of divination (which was just rubbish).
At the end of the game, she lands roughly but gives him and the rest of his team a quick nod before leaving. He doesn't fails to stare at her hatefully in return. She usually shakes the hands of her opponents, but Slytherin was always the exception; just as Gryffindor was to him.
He recovers from defeat in the usual way, gloating of his wealth and making sure some Gryffindors get in trouble that night. He knows Professor Snape will also be ready and able to collect some points from the unruly Gryffindors who just can't keep their own victories to themselves. He knows the Gryffindors will have their usual celebrations until the early hours of the morning but he knows they'll need to go sneaking around for the means.
He knows that at least half of Hogwarts will be celebrating tonight, if not more. He suddenly wishes that he had caught the snitch before Potter. After all, it was bound to happen. He wonders why it couldn't have been today, of all days.
He wishes, for once, that he could have some of her devotion or determination; whatever it was. Whatever that youngest Weasley had, he wanted it. Albeit he would only admit such things to himself, he was jealous.
It was easy enough to inherit an identity but it more than a miracle to make one completely on your own. Yet, perhaps that was not what he wanted.
In recent times he had thought that perhaps he had begun to somewhat respect the youngest Weasley, but perhaps he had been wrong. Maybe he wanted to see what she was like. It was strange that such a powerful and insulting hex should result someone's opinion of the offender in such a way, nonetheless, he couldn't deny the intrigue.
When his father had returned, he had mentioned the foolery of the Gryffindors during his encounter with them at the Ministry. Something strange swept over him as his father mentioned her appearance. Not concern at all, but curiosity.
All of a sudden he wishes to have witnessed the events that occurred during his father's social downfall, if only he would be able to see how the girl had fought and almost be defeated. He wonders whether his father and she had been able to exchange curses, but soon realises that his father was most likely too involved with other things much more important.
The year brought a part of his precious attention toward his offender, who had gone on with life without a second glance toward him. If only defending her fellow Gryffindors.
To further this intrigue, he remembers tipping off to Professor Snape that she and her current boyfriend had been cavorting in an empty classroom within the past week. Some wondrous glee grew inside him as he and his favourite Professor watched a number of rubies disappear from the House Point hour glass. Somehow, it would be those moments that involved her that he would miss in the time to come.
Everything else had changed that year…
Whispers and rumours had flown around. The wizarding world had once again been thrown into the dark threat that was his father's master, while the Hogwarts had been segregated into two halves.
For the cause, or against it; either way to each side it was a simpler different story.
Slytherin Vs. the rest of the world, someone had once declared to him over dinner. This remark lost him his appetite for that evening, letting him think over what was to come over the next months. What would happen to the school, what would happen to he and his family and lastly, what might happen to her.
In all of what was wrong with the world. He found that he almost liked her. He hated many things about her, like her colour of the hair and the things she believed in but he liked some part of her he didn't really understand.
He knows that there will be war, and he knows that it is a true eventuality that one or more of his fellow students will die before him. That or he will die before theirs. He knows that in times that would come sooner than later, a mere Quidditch match will not matter, house points will not hold meaning and prefect privileges will mean squat.
Within this time, he knows that their will be death and their will be destruction; by both sides of the cause. For whatever they could possibly believe in, there would soon be an open system of persecution. In this, he knows that he will have to fight 'til his very last breath.
He didn't quite know, but from all the mess he felt somewhat compelled to save her from all of it. Just as he thinks he would like to save her, if ever a time came where she would be the one to cower before his curse. Why waste such an exuberant life, if not such a great threat to what his cause was. After all, the only justification he would need to make would be to her but by that time, she could be his somehow.
That is, if ever Draco would save Ginny…
So, perhaps he would.