How Much More Must You Make Me Cry?

'As the skies turn gray, my heart's just about to crack open.'

Here I go again. It happened yesterday and the day before yesterday. Now, it is happening again.

Warm salty tears leaked out from beneath my eyelids. The day before yesterday, I had woken up with swollen and puffy eyes. I have a feeling that it is going to happen again today. Tomorrow I know I'm going to regret crying so much, but for now, I don't care. Crying is the only outlet I have to release my anger, resentment, frustration and above all, sadness. And who is the reason behind all my tears? Yes, I'm afraid you have guessed it right. Did you guess or was it just too obvious? Anyway, yes, it is the one and only Draco Malfoy.

You must be thinking, how completely absurd this is, or if you read what I said correctly and let me tell you, there is nothing wrong with your eyes. The explanation for all this nonsense is actually quite simple.

Well, Draco and I met in my sixth year, which was also his seventh year. Then to my great amazement at that time, I found the Ice King to be completely different from the façade he put up. Soon, we realised that we loved each other and have been together ever since, even through the war. That is just the rough outline, of course there were the ups and downs, but that is totally irrelevant for now.

For information purposes, it must be told that the Light side won, with Draco's help. He worked as a spy for the Order, yet Voldemort thought Draco was spying on the Order for the Dark side. At that time, things were really bad and no one knew exactly which side each person was on.

Even I was not sure where Draco's allegiances lay. He told me to trust him completely, and I did, without ever regretting it once. In the Final Battle, Draco made it clear to everyone, even to Lucius and Voldemort, that his loyalties lay with the Light side. That edge over the Dark side gave the Order what it needed to defeat Voldemort and vanquish his evil forever.

Now that the long war for peace was finally over, many people celebrate and enjoy themselves. But not me. I realise now that I have my own battle to fight. I'm not sure what the outcome is going to be like, nevertheless, I am sure I will live through it.

Since the war ended, Draco started out a business company, which I must admit, is doing pretty well. Actually the words 'pretty well' are an understatement. 'Fantastically well' would be more like it. The company makes more profits than what any other company did for the past ten years. Whether the Malfoy name did it, or the company is really too good, I have no idea.

I do not mind the company doing well. Of course I do not mind. Who would mind if their boyfriends were busy making tons of gold? Hey, wait a minute. Did I just refer to Draco as my 'boyfriend'? What is wrong with me? I am making far-fetched assumptions that very clearly show what state of mind I am in now. You see, Draco and I have never really sorted out and talked about 'us'.

During the war, we were concentrating more on how not to get ourselves killed rather than talking about our relationship. Draco has never, as far as I know, referred to me, Ginevra Weasley, as his girlfriend before and I would rather face a troll than carelessly make that assumption in front of him. I cannot bear to think of what would happen next. My face would turn to the colour of a tomato, perhaps? Or would I just fall to the ground, fainting from the shock? Seriously, I would never want to live through the horrifying ordeal to find out.

This takes me to the topic of 'why am I crying'? Why is the stubborn, feisty Weasley girl crying her heart out? Okay, maybe not crying my heart out. (If I did, I would be dead by now), but I am definitely crying my eyes out. Sooner or later, if I do not stop, I can guarantee you that my eyes will pop out of their sockets. Mark my words. Actually, it is difficult to pinpoint the exact reason behind my tears.

It is complicated, really. The feelings of the heart are not something you can dissect and examine at every whim and fancy. Well, mainly because no one knows about our relationship, besides Blaise (Draco's best friend) and Luna (my best friend). It really troubling because if this whole 'relationship' is real and not just a fling, why should we be afraid to tell everyone about 'us'? Does it really matter that I am from Gryffindor and Draco is from Slytherin? Does it matter that I am a Weasley and Draco is a Malfoy? It is not that I do not trust Draco. I do, with my life. But why should we care what people think about us? Do their opinions matter?

I have brought this up with Draco a few times already. Every time I asked him about this, he would immediately tense and change the subject. I have asked enough times to last me a lifetime. Each time would be no different. The same old shake of his head or the simple shrug of his shoulders would be the only response. Disappointed, I would just walk away, but not before my wrist was being grabbed in an iron grip by him.

"You know I love you, don't you?" Draco asked.

Sometimes I was not so sure if that was true anymore. But as his silvery grey eyes locked onto mine, I felt my doubts wash away. That was how much he affected me. Each touch, each gentle caress would render me senseless.

I am so confused. What exactly is going on? To make matters worse, Harry did something utterly ridiculous.

We were at one of the usual Weasley dinners. Harry, as usual, was there too. After the satisfying meal, Harry cleared his throat and asked me, in front of my whole family – six brothers and all, to go out on a date to one of the most expensive restaurants in the Wizarding World. The looks on my brothers' face were priceless. Where was a camera when you needed one? Ron spluttered out some inaudible words and had to drink some water with Hermione patting him slowly on his back before the words, or should I say 'word', could leave his mouth.

"What?"

Harry flushed and repeated himself again. "Ginny, would you like to go on a date with me to Amortentia?

Everyone at the table was stumped, even Fred and George, who very rarely had nothing to say. But so was I. how long had I waited for The Boy Who Lived to notice me? Years. Since he became Ron's friend. I expected myself to leap up in joy, dance around the room and cry a resounding 'yes' if Harry Potter, the saviour of the Muggle and Wizarding World alike, ever asked me out. He was the most eligible bachelor in England, excluding Draco Malfoy, of course. Any girl would kill to have him ask her out.

Years ago, I would probably have leaped up and thrown my arms around his neck in joy. What Harry did not realise was that; while he was out battling werewolves, finding Horcruxes, killing Voldemort, was that I had moved on. I was no longer the little girl who sat waiting for Harry Potter to notice her. I was no longer there, waiting earnestly and impatiently to entertain him. I was and am in love with someone else.

"Erm..." I answered, unsure of what to say. Everyone turned to face me, waiting expectantly for my reply. "I am kind of busy..."

His hopeful face fell. "Of course. I understand."

Guilt flooded through me. Harry's usually sparkling emerald eyes were now a dull green. My heart wrenched at the sight. I love Harry, but it was nothing more than sisterly affection.

After the dinner, I told Draco what had happened. He was furious. Not in the loud, crazy type of way but in an icy and completely spine-chilling way.

"I am going to murder Potter," he hissed angrily, marching towards the fireplace, probably going to Floo to Harry's house.

Before he could put the Floo powder into the fireplace, I quickly grabbed his arm. "Don't do anything rash, Draco," I said. "What good will it do, stomping into Harry's house? You cannot actually blame him, you know. He does not even know about us."

Those simple words did it. Almost immediately, Draco dropped the powder back into the container and sat back down on the couch.

Why was he so afraid of telling people about our relationship? Was he embarrassed of me? Humiliated that he was going out with a poor, muggle-loving Weasley girl? The more I thought about it, the more probable my reasoning seemed.

Brooding over it for days, I hardly touched my food. I started to have eye bags from the lack of sleep. Losing so much weight did not do me any good either. My once quite chubby cheeks were now hollowed and bony.

I thought Draco would not notice, being so busy with his work and all. The notion that Draco would not notice somehow supported my 'Draco is embarrassed of me' reasoning, which made me feel that for once in my pathetic (love) life, I was actually right about something. I always deceived myself on all the other boys I knew before. Pathetically making up excuses for them in my head whenever they flirted with another girl or when they avoided me for days at a time.

So, when Draco actually asked me about it, I was surprised. Technically and more appropriately, it was stunned and shocked.

I was lying in my bed reading a book when Draco entered the room. Being a Malfoy, he did not knock at all. He came by and sat on the edge of my bed, watching me read for a few minutes. My eyes were focused on the words in the book, but I knew he was looking straight at me. Somehow, I could just feel it. I did not turn my head to face him. Instead, I concentrated on my book, with his eyes boring into my head. Finally, he decided to break the silence.

"What's wrong?"

I looked up from my book, meeting his gaze for the first time since he entered the room. "What makes you think something is wrong?"

"That fact that you hardly eat nowadays and have eye bags under your eyes obviously shows that something is wrong, " he replied evenly. "You are starting to look as thin as Parkinson, for heaven's sake."

"I do not look as thin as Parkinson," I said defensively.

"Keep this going on and you will be thinner than her, trust me," Draco said. "Now, tell me what's wrong?"

"Nothing," I said, looking away from him. To try to avoid any more questions, I flipped to the page where I had left off and continued reading. I did not want to tell him what I had reasoned out. Not because I feared that he would get angry or upset, but because I feared the answer, the truth. Not knowing the answer was better. Although the lack of knowledge was not beneficial to me, at least I would not be terribly upset with the answer. Have you heard of the famous quote 'Ignorance is bliss'? I am sure you have. That accurately fits the predicament I am in now.

Irritated with my lack of response, Draco took, or more fittingly, snatched, my book right out of my hands and set it on the bedside table. "Starving yourself is not nothing."

"I am not starving myself, thank you very much."

"Then?" Draco challenged.

I fumbled around for the right words to say. "I am just...just not feeling very well nowadays."

Draco raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing every word I said. However, he did not push the matter further. He knew too well that trying to force me to say anything I did not want to was useless. "Alright then..."

I expected him to go away, walk away and sulk that I did not let him in on what seemed to be the 'world's biggest secret'. Instead, as I went back to my intriguing book, a warm arm wrapped itself around my waist. Draco, obviously.

He drew me close and rested his chin on the top of my head gently. I knew what he was trying to do. That sly little fox. I ignored him further, forcing my eyes to remain on the words of the book. He dropped a kiss on the top of my head, which I, tried my very best to disregard. I could feel my resolve waning as each second passed by. It was difficult to ignore him when I could feel his heart beating quite rapidly just behind me.

Closing my eyes for a moment, I desperately tried to gather my bearings. Perhaps he could sense my breaking resolve or perhaps it was just a stroke of luck. But when he gently entwined his fingers with mine, it was more than I could take without going out of my mind. Draco removed his chin from my head and turned his head to the side, planting a kiss on my cheek.

He then gently pried the book form my fingers and se tit on the bedside table again. I did not say anything and neither did he. It was not a time for words. Anyway, I had no idea what to say. Turning me around, he cupped my face with his hands and kissed me tenderly on my lips.


What I do not understand is how Draco can kiss me so lovingly one day and appear on the front page of the Daily Prophet dancing with another girl on another day. Did all the kisses he gave me mean anything at all? It was on the front cover. There, in big capital letters, were written 'Girlfriend or just a Dance Partner?' There also was a picture of Draco in his dress robes, holding a girl with long black hair. She was wearing a skimpy red dress that matched her dark hair perfectly. The picture showed Draco holding her close to him with his arm wrapped tightly around her waist. She was laughing happily with Draco, wearing his usual smirk, looked at her.

Envy burned in my heart. Why was life so unfair? It was not fair at all. That girl could laugh with Draco; dance with him and even kiss him in front of everybody – without doing any wrong. While I, even just talking in a civilised manner to him would be committing a big crime. Life was so unfair. Tears burned behind my eyes, threatening to fall. The newspaper dropped from the tips of my fingers, crumpled and tattered – like my heart.

I did not even need to read the newspaper to know what was being said. It was most probably written by some reporter who had no life and nothing better to do than to write some lousy article trying very hard to pinpoint the girlfriend of the most eligible bachelor in England.

Why did I have to be a Weasley? Things would have been so much simpler if I was not one.

I collapsed onto the side of my bed, making it bounce up and down with my weight. Tears leaked freely from beneath my eyelids now, coming out in torrents. They leaked down my cheeks and rolled down my neck, onto the bed, soaking the sheets. I buried my face into the pillow, trying to dry my wet eyes on them. If I were not wrong, Draco would come to explain things once he saw the article in the newspaper. And I was right. Draco apparated into my house about two hours later. That time, I had just stopped crying and was concealing my puffy eyes and nose with a concealing spell that I had just found out about in a magazine. It was a pretty effective spell.

Draco opened the door to my room easily. I had forgotten to lock it. Like locking it would do any good, since he could always unlock the door with his wand. He eyed the crumpled newspaper on the floor and spoke to me, "I am sorry. It did not mean anything."

I coldly replied, "What are you talking about?" Although I knew very well what he was on about.

"Don't play, Ginny. I know you know what I am on about."

"Play? Excuse me, but I would like to enquire if this -," I burst out, picking up the newspaper that lay on the floor and pointed to the picture of him. "- fits the category 'play' more than a girl standing here trying not to talk to her sorry excuse of a boyfriend when he just appeared on the front cover in the arms of another women!" I was never one to who was able to put on the cold and icy demeanor for long. It was just not suitable for me.

Draco stared at me. What did I say wrong? I spoke nothing but the truth. Then it dawned on me. Curse the 'boyfriend' word. With a final glare, I turned upon my heel and apparated away from Draco before he could reach out and stop me from leaving.

Unknowingly, I had apparated to a park. The sun was just coming out form behind the huge mountains that blocked the initial sunrise. The sun cast golden rays of light onto the empty park, warming my chill-ridden body. Collapsing in a bench nearby, I thought back to the most shocking turn of events. I had said the very word I had told myself time and again not to say.

Tears of confusion, envy, jealousy and sadness spilled out again, coming out from under the concealing charm. Apparently, it was only useful to some extent. I clutched the bench tightly as sobs wrecked my body. I did not know how many times I had cried in the past few months. It did not matter, did it?

Just let me ask you a one question, Draco Malfoy: How much more must you make me cry?


A/N: And that's a wrap! For those of you who are waiting for the 13th Chapter of 'Under the Table', not to worry, I'm writing it out now as fast as I can. I just could not resist doing this one-shot when the idea popped into my head. So, here it is!

Oh and review!