Draco had finally exhausted himself with all the pacing up and down, and was now sleeping soundly on the bed he normally shared with Ginny. If she'd been there, she'd be calling him a bed-hog at the moment – not only was he sprawled over the middle of the bed, but he'd wrapped the entire quilt around himself as well. However, Ginny wasn't there, so he slept peacefully.
Tap tap.
Draco rolled over.
Tap tap.
"Shut up," he groaned.
Tap tap tap.
Louder this time, and more insistent. One thick pillow was placed over Draco's head, in an attempt to block out the noise. Who would be bothering him at this time of day? (It was mid-afternoon, but Draco had lost all track of time since his letter was taken to Ginny.)
TAP TAP TAP.
"Oh, alright then." He got up, stomped across to the window and flung it open, almost knocking his owl off the windowsill.
"Lyra?" Still sleepy, it took a while to recognise the owl that was holding its leg out insistently.
Snatching the letter, he tore it open to reveal a short note in Ginny's handwriting.
"Dearest Ferret,
Of course I'll marry you. Did you really think I'd say no?
Love Ginny."
She'd said yes. She'd really said yes! And he hadn't even done the down on one knee with the ring that he'd been planning since she left. He still could, he supposed. He hadn't given her the ring yet, after all.
Draco wished someone else was there with him, so that he could talk about it. Unfortunately, everyone else was off fighting Voldemort, and he was alone in Grimmauld Place. Well, alone except for one owl, one insane old house elf named Kreacher, and Hermione's cat, Crookshanks. He wasn't going to make the mistake of speaking to Kreacher again – one traumatic encounter had been more than enough. It was a pity Draco was the only pureblood in the house (apart from the Weasleys) – the elf seemed to worship him because he was "Miss Narcissa's son". Even the portrait of Mrs Black in the hall seemed to approve of him, apart from one thing – his relationship with Ginny. He remembered the screaming very well indeed.
"Draco Malfoy! How dare you besmirch the blood of your ancestors by associating with that blood traitor? You are a disgrace to your mother, Narcissa! She would be ashamed of you. Narcissa, now there was a true Black…" etc etc.
He was losing his mind cooped up in that house. He had to get out, find Ginny, talk to someone (anyone), anything really.
"Lyra. Show me where Ginny is. Lead me to Ginny."
Draco grabbed his broomstick and the owl before heading outside. This was a last resort, he'd tell them all – he'd tried to stay inside and keep himself occupied, but he'd read every book in the house, watched that box the muggles called television for hours, without understanding any of it (although he had developed a liking for a particular "cartoon" called Tom and Jerry), and he was bored to tears.