Forbidden Fruit

Chapter 4 - Roses

Draco was shocked. What was she doing here? He suppressed the surreal thought that maybe she had come to see him.

Ginny's face, one that was usually happy and independent, had a look of fear. It was queer really. Since when had she been afraid of him?

Draco did not say anything. Not at first. He took this moment to observe her. He had never really noticed her before. Well, he had actually, she was quite popular. Just … not in this way. Her vivid red hair went down to her abdomen, and she had the richest of smiles. She wasn't smiling now, though.

'Er,' Draco stumbled in the awkward situation. Where was charming Draco when he was needed most? 'Sorry about earlier,' he said rather lamely. He scolded himself silently. Can't even perform a simple apology, now?

'Right,' Ginny said noncommittally, obviously uninterested in what he had to say.

'Yeah, whatever,' Ginny lashed out maliciously. She was sick of his crude taunts.

Annoyed with himself, Draco turned back to the stone wall. He muttered the password of 'Dementia' under his breath so Ginny wouldn't hear. In a very dignified manner, he stepped into the long Slytherin common room.

'Draco?' a familiar, high-pitched voiced piped up on cue.

'What?' his voice answered, not sharply, but in a dead, monotonous voice.

Pansy Parkinson's eyes fluttered and she smiled weakly. 'A letter from your father,' she said, and handed him a roll of high-quality parchment.

Draco scowled inconspicuously and took the letter. Instead of reading it in the common room, as Pansy had obviously expected, he moved abruptly to the boys' dorms.

No one was there, to Draco's relief. They were probably at Hogsmeade, like most of the other students. Draco hadn't been there in a while; he had been rather reclusive lately. He unrolled the parchment slowly and read with his flickering gray eyes:

Dear Draco,

The Dark Lord has been most generous with you, for which you should be thankful. It is his wishes for you to accept appropriate punishments upon finishing education at Hogwarts. Collect any information you can that will be helpful for us. Although deeply disappointed with your cowardice, he is letting you live. He is not revealing details on the whereabouts of Severus Snape, but you can be sure he knows.

I am glad you are still in close relations with Pansy Parkinson. She comes from a very respectable line of wizards with whom I liaise with often. Do not get on bad terms with Daphne Greengrass, her father has a considerable amount of power over me. On those matters, do remain on pleasant conditions with your fellow Slytherins; I am familiar with all their families. Theodore Nott's mother sends her regards.

--Father

Draco felt a stab of angst within himself. All his father's letters were the same. 'Dark Lord is very merciful', 'befriend so-and-so', 'do this', 'do that'. His father would not even inquire about his mother anymore, so asking how he was, how Draco was, was out of the question. He crumpled the letter and threw it across the room.

He reached over to a small trunk that had packed his belongings in the beginning of the year. From the bottom, beneath neatly folded robes, was a thin but heavy wooden case. He opened it carefully and extracted a silver flute. He had taken up the instrument the previous year, unbeknownst to his parents. He didn't have to ask his father, he knew what his response would be … 'Flute? Music? I don't want some nancy boy for a son! Music is impractical and for servant musicians and entertainment; Malfoys are above being petty entertainers.'

Draco glowered as he assembled the delicate instrument. He was not incredible, considering how secretly he had to learn and practice the instrument. Mostly, he had to learn on his own, although he wasn't awful at all. He turned to page 27 of Flute for Wizards - Book 3, which he had bought in secret at Diagon Alley some time ago.

Daintily, he held the mouthpiece up to his lips, where he carefully placed it so that when he blew, a gentle note rang out through the room. He paused to blow a silvery blond strand of hair out of his eyes and started to play a piece called Roses. There were accompanying lyrics, for it was meant to be sung, but sounded just as beautiful on the flute.

Ginny lifted her head high to the cool autumn air. She was just outside the castle, leaning against one of its walls. She decided to just relax outside, maybe go to Hogsmeade later, and let the incident go. All the other students were at the village, so it was very quiet outside. She heard the faint sound of music, although she couldn't place its location. The notes rang out incredibly softly, yet clearly. The tune was gentle, like raindrops falling against leaves. The song created a soothing lull in the air, and Ginny closed her eyes appreciatively. The tune hummed through her ears, as she drifted into a soft and dreamless sleep.

Draco lowered his flute. He did not feel the need to go on. He disassembled the flute and placed it back into its case. He did not bother going outside to meet up with his friends. After the previous year, Draco had fallen into an emotional slump. The recurring treats from his mother were of little comfort, and none of his friends seemed to care. In fact, he wasn't sure he had any friends now. What were Crabbe and Goyle, but useful hunks of meat? And Blaise Zabini? Theodore Nott? Ha, they were of little condolences. And the girls … most of them were like Pansy, or worse. Well, Draco thought, Millicent Bulstrode wasn't the most comforting person in the world, right?

He lay on his four-poster bed casually, his tie's knot loose and dangling from his neck. Some of his buttons weren't buttoned together and his hair was a messy scraggly disaster. He was paler than usual, and shadows hung from his eyes. What happened to the Draco Malfoy of the past? Prince of Slytherin? At least back then he had taken the time to groom himself. Draco grunted at this thought. Was he really better back then? He had learned a lot from … last year's events. No longer was he the arrogant and sly boy he was two, three years ago. He hadn't the heart to make a malicious comment in a long time. That outburst against Granger was the first in a long while.

As his thoughts turned abstract and could no longer be grasped, he lolled back and slept fitfully.

Author's Notes

HA! You thought it was Draco/Harry didn't you! But no, it's Draco/GINNY! (Actually, you would know, if you read the summary … )

By the way, there are only ten students per year, per house; five girls, five boys. J.K. Rowling stated this herself. So there are only 40 students in each year. (That only makes 280 students at the school. Not as much as I had initially thought of.) I'm guessing on the boy's side, all of one year's boys share a dorm room; same for the girls'. Yeah, just a helpful note. That means all the Slytherins in Draco's year are: Bulstrode, Millicent; Crabbe, Vincent; Davis, Tracey (witch); Goyle, Gregory; Greengrass, Daphne; Malfoy, Draco; Nott, Theodore; Parkinson, Pansy; Zabini, Blaise.

Thanks to for the information! (By the way, we know Tracey Davis is a witch in their year because Rowling revealed a compilation of all the students in Harry's year at Hogwarts during an interview.)