Sunsets

By Wednesday, Draco was more than sure he was going mad. Every night he would tumble into his bed, exhausted if not deprived, every night he would fall asleep...and every night he would dream of Ginny Weasley and the damn sunset. He didn't know what it was, but he seemed to be drawn to it on an uncanny level--it ate at him, yet it was so soothing. The colors, the vibrancy; Draco had even found that he could smell her, smell Ginny Weasley's vanilla and strawberry scent, set back on the fragrance of fresh air as it whipped back her glorious mane...

His fingers would itch in dreams like these, itch with the want to slide through her hair and across her flawless skin, over top her lips and the swells of her breasts...Often times he'd wake to find his hands clutching with brute desperation his sheets, sweat soaking through to the mattress. There was nothing directly erotic about this, about Ginny Weasley and the sunset, but there was something hidden, something beautifully sensual and suave, something that called him back again and again.

He would hold his forehead in his hands, his breath only just calming, and pray, pray that after he'd shown her he'd be able to forget. If he didn't...if he couldn't...he would go insane. It became almost like a fantasy during the days; when bored he would think of her, think of that beautiful image burnt into the back of his eyelids, the one that haunted him every time he blinked...such a fiery scene, that suited her so well--she was so beautiful, so everything. And the sunset...

Wednesday evening he found himself skipping dinner, sitting precariously on the massive ledge of the Astronomy Tower window, staring out into that beautiful sunset that had captivated him so completely when he was younger. Now, now it only brought pangs of pain into his chest, and he wondered if he'd ever be able to see it the way he had before, if it would ever be his comfort again. All because of Ginny Weasley, all because of her--he didn't even have something consoling to fall back on, something to make him feel better about himself, about the world...

Something was bothering him, something not quite tangible that ate at the back of his mind, that made him want to punch something so very hard. A type of frustrated desperation, almost, a desperation that called for him to have her again; to see this image that had haunted him for so long, except in real. He wanted her in so many more ways than one; sometimes when not completely drowning in the vision of her and the sunset together, he would find himself thinking back to the time when he'd seen her naked...

Of course, he would snatch himself away from thoughts like those; he may as well not get his hopes up, or even make it a fantasy. As the year progressed he found the embers of normalcy returning, though not a normalcy that he was used to. In a way, he would always remain different because of the things his father had done--this summer had been by far the most traumatizing of his life; but with Ginny Weasley as a distraction, he was beginning to almost forget all of that. He found himself feeling more and more he had before, at times even letting a small smirk out at the misfortunes of those he disliked--Ginny Weasley haunted him, and though her haunt was unpleasant, it allowed him to feel a bit more like a heartbroken teenager, and less like the molested son of a deranged Malfoy.

The sunset slowly disappeared over the horizon, and he sighed, almost wishing it back again. It was so peaceful when it was just him and the sunset...he wondered what it would be like if Ginny Weasley was there, too. Would she blend in with the background, while still standing out, a fine portrait displaced as the two came to life around each other...? Would it be as beautiful as it was in his dreams? Maybe, just maybe if he could see her once, see her once with the type of beauty she was meant for, then the dreams would stop coming, the charred bits in his mind stop flickering.

Maybe...

That night he made sure he'd found a quiet, unobtrusive classroom to perform the liquification of the Acromantula leg. It had taken him hours in the library on Sunday to figure out how exactly you could liquifiy powdered Acromantula leg, and when he'd finally found the solution, it'd been like a stone on his heart. 'More blood, more wounds...'...The best way, and by far the easiest, was to place half a 2-inch vial full of the powder into a separate container, and give the blood of the person whose nightmare was to be concealed. He was supposed to use the amount of blood he wanted the overrall liquified state of the leg to be--in this case, five millilitres, plus four more to completely liquifiy the powder. It wasn't much, but all the while he slid the conjured blade against his forefinger, he thought of Ginny's gentle ministrations to heal the very wounds she'd so worried about. Here he was giving her more to worry.

One inch of powdered Acromantula leg was set aside in a small vial, and Draco pressed his finger to the opening of yet another vial, this one with small scale marks on the side. He watched the blood drop from his finger, counting in his mind as it filled...'Two...Four...Five...Seven...Nine...' Yanking his finger away, he placed the dripping wound in his mouth, sucking on it as he carefully uncapped the lid on the vial containing the powder. Using both hands, he poured his blood into the other vial, capping it then shaking it as it fizzed.

Making a mental note to return the remainder of the powder to Snape, he watched the concotion turn a deep black, squinting in wonder as it swirled off its own accord. 'Oh lord,' was all he could think to himself, gathering his things before slowly trudging back up to his Dorm.

---------

That Friday, after stealing very discreetly one of Snape's grading vials, he unobtrusively dipped it into his pewter cauldron, gathering some of the swirling concoction. He'd only just added the Fairy Wings, so the Potion was excessively potent--soon, it would be time for him to mix in the liquified Acromantula leg. Capping the stormy blue liquid inside, he slipped it into his pocket, removing the vial that contained his last ingredient. Throwing it in, he let the brew sputter and spit for a moment, then stirred it hopefully. The stormy blue eventually lessened to a darker color, as if now it toned to the black contents that had just been added.

'Now I just have to check if it works,' he found his heart hammering in his chest, disturbed at the thought of having to relive the horror that had been done to him. Clearing his throat a bit apprehensively, he leaned in over the Potion, gently murmuring, "Cattivius Ricodara."

The sensation was indescribable, as if he had been wrenched from his body and was now part of the swirling contents of the Potion. Disembodied and unable to fight the current, he found himself thrown downwards, drowning in his own brew. Finally, his feet seemed stable, his knees jolted back into supportive action. Blinking, he looked around, recognizing the Malfoy Manor, and himself and his father. His father was very reassuringly petting him on the shoulder, merely reprimanding him for something done wrong; his mother standing by smiling in a way he knew she never would. He remembered having a thought vaguely similar to this, years ago, when he was still young and naive enough to believe it would someday happen.

The scene went on, skipping through numerous ocassions of friendly scolding, the look of fatherly affection on Lucius's face making Draco sick to the stomach. Deciding he'd had enough, and that the Potion had worked to his satisfaction, he repeated his previous words and found himself wrenched upwards and back into brutal reality.

After giving in a vial filled with his completed potion, Draco found himself excused the rest of the class, to sit there and clean up his workspace. Rinsing out his cauldron, he felt the cold tinkle of the vial still in his pocket, capped and ready to be given to Ginny Weasley. His mind began to work, wondering when and where he could get her alone so as to give this to her...that, and his goodbye.

'Perfect,' he thought, as he took his seat again, waiting for class to end. He glanced back at her, his skin tingling as he took in her disheveled, though apparently content, look. She stared satisfactorily down at her Potion, one that was evidently completed. He knew exactly where he could get her alone...and he knew the perfect time, as well. It was the time that would fulfill one of his fickle longings, and one that would hopefully give him the courage to truly end his fixation with her.

Ripping out a small piece of parchment, he scribbled down,

Meet me at the Astronomy Tower this evening during dinner.

Draco.

---------

Ginny's heart had skipped a beat when the small piece of parchment had floated down onto the table, still caught up in the whirling scent of Malfoy as he whipped past her table and out the door. Her fingers had snatched it away before any passerbys could notice it, stuffing it into her breast pocket before picking up her already packed bag and following the stream of students into the hallway.

She had to admit it, though she told herself otherwise--she'd been avoiding him. Her mother had said to go and get him, but all she'd been doing was sitting and staring. 'I have all year,' was what she would always think, though in her heart it nagged her that she could not muster up her courage, and conquer just this dilemna. 'Of all the things I couldn't do...' she thought, perturbed, 'Of all the tests I couldn't past--why did this have to be one of them?' The idea was scary to her, having to face him and pour her heart out, having to somehow convince him to come back.

She wanted him, wanted him beyond anything she'd ever wanted--but she wanted him in a way she continually tried to suppress, sometimes even going back to her original excuse, 'You can't fall in love at fifteen.' Still, every time she saw him in the hallway, her feet would feel heavy, as if the bottoms of her shoes had suddenly been weighted with lead. Yet at the same time her knees would wobble, turning promptly into jello, her heart bursting to say something as it hammered against her rib cage.

Go get'em.

Her mother would float into her mind at those times, her words replaying in Ginny's head like a haunting whisper that threatened to drive her insane.

Go get'em.

She cautiously exited the stream of students heading towards their next class, fairly rolling aside into a spare corridor that was blissfully under-inhabited. Only a few stragglers lingered, chatting with their friends, and frankly not paying any attention to her. Giving them a brisk hello, just to avoid any suspicion that might arise if she ignored them completely, she pulled the piece of parchment out of her pocket and read it quickly.

She read it again, more slowly.

And again.

Her heart just about flew out of her throat in nervous anticipation--he wanted to see her, meet her again! Tonight, no less, and she found herself wondering what would demand such a sudden encounter. 'Oh god,' she thought, 'What am I going to do?'

She'd been avoiding him for the past week, and now she couldn't come up with any excuse to safely and consciencously get herself out of this situation. 'What am I going to do alone with him?' she wondered, smiling vaguely at the thought of kissing him madly, just to feel his body against her again, 'What am I going to say?'

Smiling, a bit embarrassed, she walked to her next class, thoughts of spilling out her heart's tumultous contents to him writhing pleasantly in her mind.

---------

Draco found himself waiting nervously for her in the Astronomy Tower, the vial of liquid cool against his leg. The sun was just going down, flickering brightly still, and he closed his eyes, resting his head against the wall as his feet dangled hundreds of feet above ground. He wished she would come quickly, so he could see her braced against the sunset, just like he'd planned; so he could finally relinquish his obsession with her. He just had to see her once, he told himself, only once and it would sate his heart's thirsty longing. He promised himself that.

He heard footsteps behind him, his heart leaping, but he did not turn around, waiting for her to speak first. "Malfoy?" That was her voice, no doubt, and it sent his lips curling upwards into a sheepish smile. She'd come.

"Weasley."

The air bristled with their silence, unspoken words seeming to linger in the air around them.

"What did you call me here for?"

He was a bit jolted by the concerned impatience in her voice, so swiftly swung his legs around, dipping down so his feet were plastered onto the floor as he sat on the window sill. His eyes took in her appearance, her cheeks flushed and her bright hair falling away from the messy bun she'd spun it into. The wisps framed her face, giving her cheekbones more prominence and blessing her with an almost unearthly beauty. His breathe caught.

She seemed equally speechless, her eyes flitting almost nervously over him. He felt a touch of satisfaction at the look in her eyes.

"I found a way to show you," he said, cutting the silence, watching the look on her face change from silent appraisal to slight shock.

"How?"

"You'll see...but first--" He stood abruptly, almost awkwardly, but quickly regained his normal feline elegance. Zipping to her side, he placed his hands on her robe-clad shoulders, finding himself yearning for it just to be skin. He could feel her tense under his touch as he pushed her forward, whether from apprehension or anticipation, he could not tell. Almost unconsciously, he bent so as to smell her hair, revelling in the familiar and coveted scent. He pushed her against the sill, so that her waist was taut against the stone. "Look at the sunset," he whispered into her ear, feeling tremors go down her body.

She looked, and could feel her hold her breathe. "It's beautiful."

He smiled, feeling strangely content, his deft fingers gently releasing her hair from the bun he'd previously admired. He let her hair tumble down across his arms, blissfully enjoying the feeling. Slowly, he turned her around to face him, and saw something in her eyes that made him step back. She stepped forward, but he motioned for her to stay. Cautiously, he reversed his steps, until he felt his back press against the other wall, watching as she looked at him, confused but willing.

There were tears in his eyes when he finally surveyed his work--it was just like his dreaming, the spitting image of it, and to see it in real, solid life was to be in heaven. "Oh god," he whispered, watching as her hair fluttered back, her creamy skin contrasting with the blues of her eyes and the blues of the sky, the reds and oranges bringing out the delicate fire in her hair. "It is beautiful," he murmured, his heart hammering as he watched, "It's so beautiful."

He was caught in the moment, tangled in its sweet and trapping web, yet too enraptured to even attempt to free himself. He felt the wetness on his cheeks as the tears slipped out, his mind now set on only three words, three words that swirled around in his head, taunting him with their meaning and their truth. He saw, even as she moved forward, concerned at the tears on his face, saw even as she fell into his arms, her arms fastened around his neck in desperation, and after this he saw no more, because he closed his eyes and let himself fall away from everything, his hands suddenly at her lower back, and his lips struggling to kiss every bit of her he could get.

"I love you," he said in her ear, "I love you Ginny Weasley."

---------

When she heard his words, she stopped any movement she'd previously been capable of, her limbs freezing. It seemed only her heart moved, beating against her chest in excitement, pure joy. She pulled away from him, found tears on her cheeks, and kissed him. She kissed him, letting herself go, just letting herself be with him. It didn't matter, nothing mattered--all that mattered was that he loved her, and she loved him. This was her happily ever after, her happily ever after with her perfect Prince Charming.

She was startled when he pushed her away, startled when they both crumbled to the ground, as if without the other's support, they were nothing but broken beings. "I love you," he breathed out, his head in his hands, the white-blonde hair messy from her fingers running through it, "I love you..."

She sat back on her bum, crossing her legs and reaching out for him. Gently, she took his hand, raising his face to see his familiar grey eyes. "I love you, too," she said, hoping her eyes could convey how much she meant it, "I love you so much."

He took a deep breath, seeming to compose himself. She watched him closely, almost memorizing his movements, as he reached into his pocket, drawing out a vial filled with a dark blue liquid. "Is that...Cattivo Ricodare?" she questioned, recognizing the tone of the potion.

"Yes," he told her, "This is how I can show you. All you have to do is say the words and you'll see." He took another breath, his eyes sad, "What you see...promise me you'll never tell any one."

"I'll never tell any one, Malfoy," she said honestly, "I swear on my life."

"Promise me that after you see this..." Draco hesitated, "You'll never look at me differently. You'll still treat me like a Malfoy."

He saw her eyes cloud in confusion, but still she said, "I promise."

Finally, he took the deepest breath of all, staring meaningfully into her eyes, "And promise me that this will be the last time you ever try to see me, talk to me, be with me. Promise me you'll stop loving me. Promise me that this can go back to normal."

Ginny couldn't answer, she just sat there, shell-shocked, and frankly terrified. The prospect of never seeing him again, after all of this confession. She'd told him she loved him for god's sake--she loved him! And yet he still had the nerve to ask her to stop! "I love you," she whimpered, quietly, watching his face change from sad to, maybe, a bit relieved, "I'll always love you. I'll always try to see you, to talk to you, to be with you--because I want to--I need to! How can you ask me something like that?"

"Gin..." His eyes fell to his lap, "Weasley, I'm still Malfoy. I haven't changed. It may seem like I have, but deep down I'm still the boy who tormented you for years. Don't you remember that?"

"Of course I do!" she said, her anger being sparked, "How could I forget? But at least I'm willing to forgive you, to forgive you for the better person I know you are!"

"I'm not a better person," he said, his voice growing in volume, "I'm a Malfoy!"

"So what! So, bloody, what?" she asked, her eyes flashing as she got to her feet. He followed suite, "Does being a Malfoy mean you're not a human? Does being a Malfoy mean you don't deserve to be loved?"

"No!" he shouted, leaning towards her, his eyes filled with angry sadness, even as hers brimmed over with tears, "It means I don't deserve to be loved by you. I don't deserve you." Angrily, he yanked her hand, prying open her palm and setting the vial in place. "Watch this. Watch it. And after you do, I know you'll understand. You'll see why you deserve more than I could ever give you. You'll understand why I've done what I have." He turned on his heels, ready to stomp out.

Ginny heart fluttered wildly, and she screamed after him, "You...you bastard! You are your father's son! You cold, heartless brute--how could you do this to me...?" She crumbled to the ground, tears streaming down her face, her heart crumbling just as her legs had. "I love you...I love you..." she whispered, his back stiff at the door, "Why can't you see I love you?"

She knew Draco could hear her, but he still wouldn't turn around. Instead, she heard a wild sob escape his lips, and then he was gone, his back straight in Malfoy-like dignity, his nose held high even though she had seen the tears on his cheeks.

She sat in the Astronomy Tower for a while, holding the vial between her fingers, rocking back and forth as she sobbed. Slowly, she calmed, though her heart still bled. Her Prince Charming...was not to be. Looking around, she faced the Astronomy Tower window, hoping to see the sunset. All she saw was the darkness of night.

Author's Note: Okay, here it is. Read and Review.