Draco watched her walk toward him, never really seeing him, as if he was nothing more than another rough wall in the castle. She doesn't see you, you know. You're not her kind.
Everyone always said that, he could hear the girls from across the Great Hall. "Oh, Ginny, he's pretty to look at, but he's really not your type!" "Ginny, you can't get messed up with a Malfoy! He's not your kind!" Incessant, bearing down on him, pressing in.
He was not her type, that was obvious, but her kind? She'd always just nod and agree, but he could never tell if that's what was in her heart. Ginny, don't listen to them. They'll make up your mind for you in an instant if you let them. You're growing up so quickly…don't turn your back on me, not yet, not until I've deserved it.
She passed in front of him and his hand extended, not to take her, but to slip a note into her satchel, unseen and unfelt. She'd find it later and wonder who it was from.
What are you doing to me, Weasley? Why does it hurt so much to hear them say it? It's not like I've ever shown that I wanted you, not to mention that I'd never really be allowed to have you! So why do their damn comments cut like a knife to the ribs?
"He's no good, Ginny." "Gin, his father's a Death Eater! You know he's the same way!" Who ever said I was a Death Eater? When did one Malfoy become the other?
Draco watched her walk away, ignoring him, chatting happily with her friends. Well, baby, that's all I can do. Don't let them decide for you. Don't show it to them. Make up your own mind or we'll end before we've begun. He walked towards his next class, hands deep in his pockets, thinking.
I searched a long time for you, Weasley, and now I've done all I can… it's up to you.
