Chapter Five: The Picnic

When Blaise showed Draco the pictures from the ball he sat down. "She's good." Was all he said.

Blaise noticed something on the back of one picture in Draco's hand. "Turn those over, I think she wrote something..."

Draco did as he was told. On the back of the picture of him in the shadows was a note: "I'm sorry I behaved so rudely. The album you held in your hands was very personal. It holds quite a few photos I have never released to the public, photos no one else has ever seen because they are too real, too dear to my heart. I was afraid you had seen a side of me no one has seen for many years. It is no excuse. Please stop by the gallery any time you wish and you will receive any print you desire as recompense." He looked up at Blaise, clearly amazed.

He looked back at the photos. On the back of the muggle photo in which he was surrounded by a blur of color he read: "I left without notice because I was afraid. Your question was too accurate and the anonymity too comfortable. You were too perfect in your reflection of my heart. I saw in you the way I felt. I knew the honesty would end when the masks were removed and I wanted to remember that night as a faery tale. I could not let reality mar the evening. I am sorry if I offended you."

Again, he looked up at Blaise. "What did you say to her?"

Blaise shrugged. "I went to apologize for your abominable behavior, going through her personal things, honestly!, and she gave me those," he indicated the pictures. It wasn't a lie. There had been two hours in the middle, but it wasn't a lie.

Draco nodded and stared at the photographs.

Finally Blaise couldn't take it anymore. "She said she wouldn't use them without permission." Draco nodded again and continued to stare. Blaise was about to leave when Draco looked up.

"Is she going to the charity picnic?"

Blaise grinned to himself before turning back to his friend with a straight face. "Why? You aren't. You begged out of that one, remember?"

Draco ran his hand through his hair. He really shouldn't do this. It would only make him think of Ginny. "If she'll be there, I'll...I'll go." He got up and left.

Blaise grinned like a cheshire cat. He called Sarah.

"No, I don't think it would be a good idea to tell her he's going to be there."

"But she'll kill me if she finds out I knew."

"Then we won't let her find out. Say, if she's there, does that mean you will be too?"

"I wasn't planning on it, why?"

"Just curious. Why not?"

"I'm not invited and I get tired of going as her guest. Why?"

"Well, you could go as my guestfor a change..."

"Sarah?"

"Um...I'm not sure she'd like that..."

"I'll take care of her, she's a sucker for my puppy dog face. What do you say?"

"O...okay, if you're sure it won't upset her."

"I'm not the one she's avoiding. It'll be fine. I'll pick you up at eleven if you'll tell me where."

"It doesn't start until noon..."

"I kow."

Blaise was having what you would call a good day.

The charity picnic was a big event. Everyone who went bought a $300 ticket. There was a ton of food and a lot of games. Jennifer Wells was to photograph the whole thing. Celebrities playing the egg toss, three legged race, pie eating contests, that ridiculous game where you hold an orange to your chest with your chin and pass it without hands, sack races, and every other small town festival game you can think of. Afterwards Jennifer Wells' photgraphs would be sold as prints and as a collection, all proceeds also went to the charity.

She arrived early and took a few pictures of everyone setting up and waited to get pictures of the arrivals. Blaise and Sarah were first to show up. Ginevra met them with a very serious expression on her face. "Blaise..."

"Don't start, mother, I'll take good care of her." Blaise bowed to his old friend and then kissed Sarah's hand.

Ginevra looked unsure but finally said, "You better," and then smiled in an amused manner. She pulled him aside a little later. "If you hurt her I hurt you, got it?" Blaise nodded. It was that moment that Draco arrived. She had thought that since Blaise arrived without him he wouldn't be there. No such luck. Blaise saw her tense up.

"Relax," he whispered before rejoining Sarah.

Draco approached Ginevra and nodded to her camera, "You here for business or pleasure?"

She laughed nervously. "Surely you read your invitation? I'm going to photograph everything and sell them for the charity. You consent by your presence." She lifted an eyebrow and waited, slightly amused, for his reaction.

"You're telling me that you are going to take pictures of the rest of us embaracing ourselves with these ridiculous games?" She nodded. "But you get to escape, not only record but also playing, because you're the famous photographer?" She nodded again, giggling. "Hm, do you need an assistant?" He looked hopeful and playful at the same time.

Something in her caught. He was flirting with her. So many emotions... She was flattered. She was hurt that he was capable of doing so with anyone but her, and since he didn't know it was her, he was fliriting with someone other than her. She was scared, what if he found out? She was paranoid, what if he already knew? She wanted to cry, it reminded her of so long ago... She pushed all that away and was surprised to realize she was already speaking. "We...ll, I will probably need someone to make drink runs for me, and hold my drink while I shoot... I might need someone to shade the camera," she looked up at the sky, "and perhaps me," she looked back at him with a grin. She pretended to be thinking seriously. "But I run into a problem... All of the tabloids will know you were here, and if I don't have any pictures of you available they'll probably lynch me..."

"How about a compromise. I keep you company and act as your valet and you let me chose what games I play and what pictures I'm in." He leaned in conspiratorily.

She pondered a moment before laughing and offering her hand. "You have a deal." He shook it.

They spent the day together. He found Blaise and they did the three legged race together and later the egg toss. Fortunately for him the egg burst on Blaise. With his obligations to participation taken care of he relaxed considerably. "So why photography?" He asked as she took a brilliant photograph of a super model with her face in a pie.

She lowered the camera and thought while she located her next shot. "Well, the war was over and I had lost everything. My entire family was gone," it was close to the truth, "and I was staying with a friend. I found this wonderful cliff." She took a picture of the winner. "It was perfect. It said everything I felt. The waves crashing against the rocks at its feet, the lone tree that stood on top of it, it was the perfect picture of loneliness and pain." She turned to him. "So I went out and got a camera and took a picture of it. I never wanted to forget it and I knew I couldn't stay there forever, now it will always be there when I need it." She started toward the field where the sack race was going to begin in fifteen minutes.

"You released that photo, didn't you?" The sat beneath a tree on the edge of field to wait. She nodded and hugged her knees.

"Anyway, photography became my way of living. If I have a camera between me and the world I can go anywhere, face anything. If something touches me I take a picture of it." She turned to face him again. "Say I see a family playing in the park and it makes me smile. If I take a picture of it I can feel like I'm one of them. I can look back at the picture and feel the joy they were experiencing. I become part of their world. Say I'm hurt. I find a shot that encompases how I feel and I take it. I put all of my pain into that picture and it is no longer mine; I have distanced myself from it." She stared out before her. "When I have a camera I don't have to be a part of anything. I don't have to feel anything." She met his eyes. "It's the only way I could survive."

Their eyes held for a moment before he broke contact. "I guess it's the same with me and work. As long as there is a form to fill out, a meeting to attend, a problem to solve, or a merger to orchastrate I don't have to live. If there is work there is no room for emotion."

"Were you there for the war?" She knew the answer, but she figured it would make sense for a stranger to ask, and she wanted to hear how he would answer.

"Yes." He had gone cold. "It took everything." He shook himself and looked back to her, "Shall we? I think we have enough time to grab some watermellon before the race." His voice was just a little too cheery, but she understood.

"Only if I can take a picture of you eating it." She had an impish gleem in her eye.

"Fine!" he utilized a comically exasperated tone of voice to make her laugh as he helped her up.

Everything went fine until it was time to say goodnight. She had enjoyed her afternoon. She had even managed to forget who they were for most of it. It was when he asked her to dinner that everything crashed around her ears. She just froze. He asked again.

"I...I...I don't think that would be such a good idea."

"Why not." He was confused. Why did she look so uncomfortable. "Is there someone that would object?"

Her eyes got wide as she realized what he was thinking. "NO!" she quickly answered "But..."

"Then what's the problem?"

"I...I...just..." she actually started to cry. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have... You don't know... That picture... Blaise..." she ran off in tears. Blaise and Sarah had been approaching and saw her run off. Blaise motioned with his head that Sarah should follow her. Sarah nodded and did so.

Draco just stood there. He was in shock. She had used the name Blaise. She knew who they were. How did she know? She couldn't be...

Blaise interrupted his thoughts. "What happened?" He sounded genuinely concerned.

"She...she knows your name..." Draco eyes were still unfocused. Blaise put his hand to his forehead. Draco pulled himself out of it. "I asked her to dinner and she froze. She seemed terrified by the prospect. Then she started apologizing, said something about I didn't know, the picture, and then said your name. What is going on?"

Blaise sighed. "I have to talk to her before I can answer that."

"You bloody well better tell me something now!" Draco was getting angry, he didn't want to think what he was thinking.

"She worked for the Order. She lost everything. I let her stay at my estate for a few weeks while she figured out where to go. I don't know why she refused dinner with you. If you'll let me talk to her I'll find out." Blaise sounded exhausted. He hadn't lied. Everything he said was true. There were a million reasons why she would have panicked and run.

Draco nodded curtly and walked away. "I'll see you back at the hotel then."

As soon as he had stepped foot in the park he had stopped thinking. He had decided to forget the past and try to move on like Blaise said. He regretted it. Blaise hadn't said anything about the girl's identity. It could still be her. He would recognize her though, wouldn't he? Not if he had convinced himself it was impossible. This is what happens when you stop thinking. This is what happens when you let yourself live. You get hurt and you hurt others. He still didn't know what he had done to the girl but he had done something. If only her pictures weren't so perfect, if only he didn't find himself so perfectly explained in her photography, if only he had never left Ginevra...