Chapter 2
Days passed and Ginny became more and more determined to make Draco re- become the boy she had fallen in love with. Two weeks after the meeting with Draco and his father, Ginny found another letter in the delivery stack, addressed for the ex-Slytherin.
Ginny exited her office and boldly marched down the corridor to the lifts. She punched the 'up' button and the lift suddenly began to rise. The tiny room was empty and silent. Ginny leaned against a wall and slowly slid to the floor. She covered her face with her hands and tears began to spill onto her palms and down her cheeks.
Then, with a rough hand, she wiped away the tears and scrubbed at her features with a robe sleeve. "Why am I crying?" she asked her self aloud. "I have nothing to cry about. I should not be crying." Carefully she rubbed her face clean of tear stains before the lift reached the next floor.
The gates opened and a man stood just beyond the opening. A man with slick, silvery-blond hair. Ginny stepped out of the lift and began to look through the letters. "Oh, Mr Malfoy. I have a letter here for you," she announced as she riffled through the letters she promptly spilled all over their feet. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I-I..."
"No worries! I've got them," Draco knelt down beside Ginny who was scrambling to gather the spewing notes. The two collected the post in silence, until Draco's hand laid on top of Ginny's purely by accident. The pair of young adults brought their eyes up to meet each others'. His silvery eyes landed upon her grey-specked brown ones. Warmth swept through Ginny's body accompanied by fear.
Without thinking, Ginny quickly broke the eye contact and shoved an envelope into Draco's startled hand. "Your letter, good-bye," she said as if she were lingering in a world that they could not break free of. With the undelivered mail bundled in her arms, Ginny quickly backed into the still-open lift.
When the gates clanked closed and the lift descended, Ginny turned and stood in the corner, belittling her self. What had she done? She had broken the exact contact she had wanted. A silent tear streaked down her pale cheek, the salty taste lingering on her lips.