For QLFC Round 3!
Prompt: KEEPER - Satisfied: Write about unrequited feelings (romantic or platonic).
Lyric: I remember that night / I just might regret that night for the rest of my days
WC: 2695
Thank you Shay for beta-ing! :)
Draco sat down on the stone bench, his Slytherin scarf tied loosely around his neck. Was it colder tonight than usual, or was it just him? Looking around, he realized that it was almost as if time was stopped on the Hogwarts grounds, almost as if the night had silenced every cracking branch, every whistle of the wind, and now all that remained was just him and the stars and the ever-expanding night sky.
"Are you alone out here?"
He had turned sharply at the voice, straining his eyes to make out the face from the midst of the shadows. Who would be hanging around outside at this hour? Certainly not anyone in their right mind, hence why he was out there.
"Oh. It's you."
He hated the way her voice fell when she recognized him, the way she too regarded him with such contempt. And why shouldn't she, when he'd been nothing but terrible to her his whole life?
To his surprise, Ginny Weasley sat down next to him, gingerly pulling her legs to her chest, her heels resting on the stone bench.
"Don't you feel like it's different at night? Like it's a completely separate world." Ginny's voice was quieter than he'd ever heard it before, and he couldn't help but feel like the night had placed a spell on them, as if everything had shifted itself over, had been put aside, just for this one moment. "As if nothing matters at all, and at the same time, everything does? That doesn't make much sense, does it?" She laughed, twisting a piece of her robes in her hands.
"That's exactly how I feel." Draco turned to Ginny, trying to analyze her expression, but her face was turned up to the stars, the moonlight shining on her freckled nose. "So what brings you outside at this hour?"
"Couldn't sleep," Ginny said matter-of-factly, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. And, in a way, it was. "Haven't had a good night's sleep in a while, actually. Although I'm not sure why I'm telling you this."
"I think I've probably been awake for three days straight," Draco said bitterly, and Ginny laughed dryly, grinning at him.
"Why are we talking like this?" Ginny blurted out, the absurdity of the situation growing more evident by the minute. "I mean, I've always hated you, and I'm sure your feelings toward me aren't exactly cordial."
"They aren't," Draco said, shrugging. And they weren't. He'd always hated the Weasleys, and the worst part was he didn't even have a good reason for it. He just did. "It must be the night."
"It must be," Ginny agreed, and the two of them raised their gazes back to the sky, taking in every little pinprick of light against the great blackness above them. There were no lights to detract from its beauty, not now, when everyone but Filch and Mrs. Norris laid asleep, and Draco couldn't help but feel as though he'd never have a moment like this again for as long as he lived.
"Have you ever felt trapped?" The words left his mouth before he could regret them, but it was too late to stop now that they were out there, swallowed up by the blackness of the night. "In there, I mean." He gestured to the castle, which was shrouded in shadows in the dusk.
"Of course," Ginny scoffed, staring up at the building. There was a moment of silence before she spoke again, turning her gaze towards his. "Look, Malfoy, I don't know exactly what kind of pressure you're under, but I know something's going on. And I know what it feels like to be someone else's plaything."
"You do?" But Draco did know, he knew what had happened to her during her very first year at Hogwarts, but he didn't want to seem like he thought it was unimportant. Because it wasn't.
"Of course," she repeated, giving him a look. "We're not so different, you and I."
"You're not who I thought you were, Ginny Weasley." He stared at her, unable to draw his gaze away. It was like she outshone the bloody moon, and something in Draco seemed to click into place, as if he'd been waiting for her his whole life.
"You know, I think in another world, I could love you, Draco Malfoy." She said the words with such certainty that Draco thought his heart might just stop, and he knew he looked like a gaping fish but he couldn't wipe the surprise from his expression.
"I think I could too." He slid his hand into hers before he could overthink the decision, and she was grinning at him again, and all he could think about at that moment was how right it felt, to be sitting here with her, this girl who he hated and now maybe sort of loved.
"She's glowing, isn't she?"
Draco shot a look to his right, raising an eyebrow at the way Blaise was about to topple out of his chair from craning his neck to gape at Ginny Weasley.
"For Merlin's sake, Blaise, sit down." He reached over and grabbed Blaise's shoulder, pushing him back into his seat. "This is a wedding. You're not supposed to ogle the bride."
"Oh, says you." Blaise gave Draco a crooked smile and merely shook his head, turning his gaze back to the front of the room. He didn't really see why everyone was always describing brides as glowing, to be honest. She looked radiant, yes. But glowing? No, Ginny Weasley's beauty could never be something so understated. It was a bold kind of appeal, the kind that made you do a double-take, the kind that seemed to shine from her very core.
But what did Draco know about it? Nothing. He knew absolutely nothing.
"Does the officiant normally talk this long for these things?" Blaise elbowed Draco in the side, his loud yawn causing about half the guests to turn around and glare at the two of them.
"Keep it up, Blaise, and we'll be thrown out." It wasn't like anyone would miss them, not from where they were seated, tucked into a little corner of the large field, hidden from view of the good guests. He was being bitter, he knew that. He hadn't even deserved an invitation. Hadn't even deserved to be here, to look at her in all her blasted, glowing beauty.
Draco watched as Ginny clasped Potter's hands in her own, her eyes shining with tears. She really did love him, didn't she? Of course she did. Everyone loved him.
"Ginevra Molly Weasley, do you take Harry to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
No amount of deep breaths and self-lectures could have prepared Draco for this moment. This was it. The end of his moping, the end of the last little flame of hope in his heart that seemed to keep burning, no matter how much he tried to snuff it out. Half of him wanted her to say yes, to finally end it, once and for all, but the other half was stronger, and all he could think about was the delicious picture of Ginny smiling wickedly at the minister and crowing a defiant "No" as she turned her gaze onto Draco.
But she didn't say no. Instead, she smiled, a real, bright smile that split her beautiful face in two and she stared straight into Potter's eyes, her gaze unwavering.
"I do." Her smile widened, and Draco's heart sank down to his dress shoes. "Of course I do."
And that was that. He hadn't even realized he'd been holding his breath until he suddenly let it out in one huge sigh, sending several more heads swiveling in his direction. The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur, not a single word registering in his brain, and the next thing he knew was Blaise's hand on his shoulder.
"The bloody thing's finally over, mate." Blaise was shaking him, now, trying to snap him out of the trance he now found himself in. "Let's go get some drinks."
"Drinks," Draco repeated, tearing his gaze away from the front of the room, where Ginny no longer stood. "You mean at the reception?"
Draco watched Blaise's face fall as he got to his feet, pushing his friend's hand off of his shoulder. The concern in his eyes was painful, pitying, and it made Draco want to throw up. He didn't need anyone's sympathy. He wasn't some kind of kicked puppy, stumbling after Weasley like she was the bloody north star. He was a mature adult, and he was fine. Just fine.
"I don't think that's the best idea," Blaise said tentatively, giving Draco a side-eyed glance. "Wouldn't you rather head to The Three Broomsticks and down a few? I promise, you'll feel a lot better —"
"Shouldn't we give our congratulations to the bride?" Draco started to walk towards the edge of the large lawn the ceremony had been set up on, passing rows of chairs and flowers and white, so much gauzy, blinding white.
"And the groom?" Blaise caught up to Draco's side as they marched across the grass, his brow furrowed.
"Yes, him too." Draco didn't want a confrontation. He knew Blaise was worried about him, they all had been, but it really wasn't necessary. He was over Ginny Weasley once and for all. Obviously.
It was worse than he had imagined at the reception, full of laughing, red-haired relatives and Harry bloody Potter everywhere he turned. He had tried to stay in the back, far away from the view of the rest of the guests, but as he had learned over the years, it was impossible to keep Blaise Zabini away from a dance floor.
Soon enough, Draco was on his own, leaning against the wall behind the long-emptied punch bowl like some kind of vagrant. The bowl was crystal, he noticed, and some selfish, disgusting part of him wondered how the Weasleys could have afforded it. See, this was why she hadn't fallen head over heels for him. It was a wonder she could even stand him, considering how he could barely stand himself much of the time.
"Draco?"
It was as if an electric shock passed through his body at the sound of her voice, jolting him into place so that he couldn't move even if he'd wanted to. He kept his eyes on the punchbowl, focusing on the way the light in the reception tent caught in the facets of the crystal, sending glittering star-like fragments of light in all directions. It reminded him of another night, not too long ago.
"Congratulations." He straightened his spine, slowly but surely, until he faced the figure in front of him, trying not to flinch at the sight of her face so near to his own. Merlin, he'd missed seeing her. "It was a lovely ceremony."
"Thank you for coming." Ginny smoothed out her dress with her palms, although it was already completely free of any wrinkles. She was too beautiful for her own good, Draco decided. For anyone's good. "I really appreciate it."
"I was happy to." This conversation was one of the worst Draco had ever had. It was like every word was painful, each one worse than the last, and he just wanted her to leave, or maybe he was the one who should be leaving. Maybe this had all been a mistake.
"Are you going to keep acting like this for the whole night?" Ginny stared at him, her gaze unyielding. That's one of the things he'd always admired about her, that she would look you straight in the eye when she wanted you to understand something, really understand it.
"I was planning on leaving soon, actually." Once I can drag Blaise away from the buffet.
"Are you, now?" Ginny folded her arms, her red curls shifting against her shoulders. "Not even going to stay for cake?"
"I think it'd be better for me to go." The thought was almost laughable, and yet, a piece of cake did sound particularly delicious. Maybe the awkwardness of it all was getting to him, or maybe it was just Ginny in front of him. Either way, he certainly wasn't thinking straight.
"I wouldn't agree." Ginny shook her head slightly, directing her gaze toward the empty punchbowl. "Look, Draco, the war is over. We're not kids anymore. I don't know why you insist on continuing to act like one."
So there it was. She thought he was being a child. He couldn't help but bristle at the words, his mouth tightening into a fine line. "I don't act like one."
"Come on, Draco." Ginny laughed darkly, the coldness of it making Draco's face darken, and he steadied himself against the table. "Do you really want to let one night determine whether or not we can talk to each other like civilized adults?"
"Oh, so now you bring it up. Now you remember that there was a time when you didn't think I was a complete monster." So they'd finally reached it. The night that circled in his mind for hours on end, that haunted his dreams, her voice echoing in his ears. I think in another world, I could love you, Draco Malfoy.
"I've never thought you were a monster." Ginny wasn't smiling anymore, and over her shoulder, he could see the guests beginning to wonder why he was taking up so much of the bride's time. "And of course I remember that night. I just might regret that night for the rest of my days."
"I don't. I don't regret it at all." This was a terrible thing to be saying at her wedding, for Merlin's sake, but he'd be lying if he'd said otherwise. Never in his life had he had someone who took up more space in his heart than she did.
"I regret it because —" Ginny stopped, drawing in a deep breath. "Because I made you believe in something that wasn't there. And that's my own fault, and I'm sorry."
"Something that wasn't there? You're telling me that when you said you could love me, one day, that was a lie?" This was even worse than he'd imagined. At least in his daydreams, she'd said that her feelings had changed over the years, that Potter had won her over. Never, not even in his nightmares, had she said she'd never loved him at all.
"No." Her voice was quiet, weighed down by some invisible burden. "I did care about you. I shouldn't have, and I did. But I was always meant to be with Harry. We just — we understand each other. And I could never understand you."
The two of them stared at each other in silence, and it was at that moment that Draco realized how perfect she was in this space. She played the part of the bride so well. And in the flickering candlelight, Draco realized that she was, indeed, glowing.
"I loved you, Ginny." The words were quiet enough so that none of the other guests could hear, but it felt like he'd declared them to the whole world. He had always loved her, he realized that now. "And I'm sorry to be telling you this at your wedding." The irony of it all was too much, and Draco dug his fingernails into his palm to keep the tears from his eyes.
"I think we might have saved each other, that night," she said weakly, her eyes shining. "We just didn't work in the daytime."
Before Draco could say something more, before he could beg her to reconsider, she turned away, white dress and all, disappearing into the throng of guests, and Draco was once more alone.
She was happy. He should be happy for her, he knew, and yet all he wanted to do was throw that blasted punchbowl onto the floor and watch it shatter into a million pieces. He should never have come to this wedding. He should have never gone into the courtyard that night. And he should have never, ever, wasted his heart on Ginny Weasley.