Ginny spied out her favorite nook and settled herself in. After spending all Saturday morning working on a particularly nasty Potions essay, she wanted nothing more than sit here in the library, next to her window, reading a cheesy romance novel and staring at the stormy day outside. The picture on the cover unconsciously reminded her of a certain grey-eyed Slytherin, but she wasn't about to admit it. She tucked her feet up under her, snuggled against the overstuffed chair, and opened her book to the next racy chapter.
What she didn't notice was the same certain grey-eyed Slytherin who watched her.
Draco looked up from his work and stared at the girl who had a moment ago come through the door. It wasn't as if he hadn't seen students coming and going all day from the library, it's only that this particular girl had been in his thoughts.
He watched her burrow down into the chair, her hair framing a face devoid of meanness but which had a touch of mischief. She pulled out a novel, a bodice-ripper, if the cover was any indication, and Draco smirked to himself. Little Weasel needs a hot date he thought carelessly, and the idea made him wonder if she'd ever really had one, even with Potter.
His gaze drifted from her hair to her face, and he noticed her freckles had all but disappeared in the last year. Just a half-dozen or so across her nose, which might be fun to play connect the dots with. Malfoy, maybe you need a hot date yourself spoke a little voice inside his head. He looked at her eyes, as much of them as he could see as she bent over her book, and decided hazel was the perfect color for her beautiful fair skin and dark red curls.
How to do this? he wondered. You should take this slowly his heart told his head, but his head didn't seem to be listening very well that day, and before he knew it, he rose from his seat and strolled over to the window by her chair.
'Marta's bosoms heaved with passion as Antonio reached his hands to hers and . . .' Ginny smiled to herself, caught up in the story. The handsome wizard prince had sought out the peasant girl, and they were about to fly away on his broomstick when a shadow crossed over her and she looked up into eyes as grey as the storm outside and sparkling with naughtiness.
"Trying to picture yourself and Potter, there, Weaselette? He's more the small, puny type, not at all like the blond god on the cover of your book." Draco flexed his chest out, posing.
"The picture isn't of you, either, Ferret, so maybe you're just jealous," was the retort.
"Oh, I don't see myself as a god, Weaselette, but you're welcome to think those happy thoughts about me anytime." Draco curled his lips in what he hoped was a smug smile. Ginny rolled her eyes.
"Come now, Malfoy, don't you have enough airheaded fans to follow you around? Are you desperate enough to actually want a Weasley to worship you?" Ginny laughed.
He leaned over and snatched the book out of her hands. "You're prettier than all the other Weasleys, but I'm not as desperate as you might think. Anyhow, you're the one reading the trashy romance novel," he smirked, putting his nose quite close to hers. Ginny smirked back and shoved at his shoulders, ignoring the electricity that shot through her fingers as she touched him.
"Back off, Malfoy, before I lose my own temper. If you wanted to make me mad, you haven't succeeded. If you wanted to read my book, all you had to do was ask. A trashy romance may not be great literature, but I notice you're interested anyhow. Take it and go, I don't need a book or your face to think about love."
Draco snorted and sat on the floor beside her chair.
"I was just teasing, Red. Don't get your knickers in a bunch." He turned the book over to read the blurb on the back. " 'Marta was a humble servant girl, Antonio was the handsome wizard prince who wanted to make her a princess,' " he said in a breathy voice. Ginny giggled.
"Really, Draco, I just finished a seriously difficult Potions assignment, and there's another one due on Tuesday, so I just wanted to take a little break and read some nonsense."
"Nonsense is too right. Well, it's your afternoon." He handed the book back to her and leaned against the chair. "Ever wonder if there's really any romance to be had?" He spoke softly, half-hoping she wouldn't hear him.
"All the time," she whispered back. "It's just that I know even though someday all this commotion with Voldemort will be over, I wonder who will be left? Who will want to be romantic? I'm not even sure it's worth it to even look for romance or love anymore." Ginny sighed and stared out the window again.
Draco was at a loss. He knew he wanted to tell her to keep believing, not to give up hope; he even had it in the back of his mind to tell her to believe in him, but he lost his nerve and just stayed silent. When he didn't answer her, she closed her eyes, silent tears falling down her cheeks.
They sat there for awhile before Draco got nervous and made a lame excuse about having to get back to Slytherin to do some homework. She nodded her head without looking at him as he turned and walked away.
In the hall, he peeked back through the library door. She was still sitting there, gazing out the window. I wonder if she knows what love really is? I wonder if I do?