Hey, everyone. This chapter's pretty short, but I liked it this way...
Any ideas toward other people? I think I'll do seven of these, so there are four left...
Anyway, read, review, you know the drill!
Oh, and as always: I'm not JKR, and as much as I wish I will wake up one day and be the most talented witch of our age, I never will.
Draco can't say why he felt the need to stroll through Diagon Alley, in January, just before midnight, but one way or another, that's where he ends up. His blonde hair doesn't retain any of that silky smoothness that it used to have-rather, it is courser, wavier, and hangs down to below his chin. His mother thinks that hi haircut is 'outrageous'. Draco thinks that might be why he leaves it that way. He used to love being a Malfoy. The power, the respect, the influence, the name had, at least in some circles. But since the way, Draco is not sure whether its pride or shame that he associates with his surname. At first, the idea of following in his father's footsteps was exciting, filled with thrill. Then, it became a nightmare, where everything got set on fire and burned and nothing was left of the life that Draco knew. And now, here he is. The ashes are being swept up- the ashes of a life, the ashes of love, and the ashes of pain. At home, Draco's mother cries at night and pretends that everything is fine during the day. Draco's father is in Azkaban again, serving five years. Draco thought he would mind so much, that it would kill him to see his father in Azkaban again. It doesn't.
Guilt pulls at Draco- it is his father, after all, and yet he did terrible things, things that Draco would never, ever think about. So maybe that's why he Apparates to Diagon Alley almost at midnight on a cold night in January. He's so sick of the pretending- to care, not to care, balancing feelings with reputations and love with respect.
"Are you alright?" Draco looks down, surprised. Someone has just bumped into him.
"Oh, err, yes," a red-headed girl a little younger than Draco is getting to her feet, a bit unsteadily.
"Here." Draco reaches down, grabs her hand, and easily pulls her to her feet.
"Draco?" She looks up into his gray eyes, recognition flickering across her pale, freckled face.
"Ginny," Draco responds, ducking his head in her direction. "Are you OK?"
Ginny nods.
There is an awkward silence. The wind howls around the rooftops of Diagon Alley. The moon slips out from behind a cloud and bathes the teenagers in silver light. Draco looks at her, really looks at her. All those years of calling her 'Weasley', insulting her, mocking her….Draco feels them like blows to his heart now. More than anything since the war, he wishes that he had been kinder to her.
"Well, I'll, erm, see you around then," Ginny said, after a moment.
"Oh, right, yeah," Draco shook his head, flustered. The moon is behind a cloud, and its too dark, too quiet. Ginny's blue eyes meet Draco's for one short second, before she turns on her heel and Disaparates.
Draco stands there, alone, for a moment longer before he, too, Dissaparates with a soft "crack".
Hola, people. Tell me your thoughts on this...please?
All ya need is love. And love=reviews. So be kind and give me the one thing that I need. :)
(Not to guilt-trip you or anything...) :D