Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to JKR.
This drabble was written for Sinistra Black's challenge on the Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges forum titled The Sheherazade Challenge 2nd Edition.
I had 24 hours to complete the drabble.
Day 7 Prompt: "You can't always get the perfect moment. Sometimes, you just have to do the best under the circumstances." (Sarah Dessen)
It's really hard to form a well written drabble in 24 hours- this seems hurried and jumbled, so I'm sorry. Practice makes perfect!
I hope you enjoy!
I've Got You Under My Skin
Encounter
It was, as she recalled, a most peculiar introduction.
The scene was seedy bar, situated in the dankest corner of London. It was not a place frequently haunted by professional Quidditch players. The bartender was a porky man, but carried with him an air of ominousness that did not imply benevolence. She sat on a moldy, peeling bar stool, which belched large amounts of stuffing every time she adjusted her position.
She gazed at her drink and inhaled the stench of musty cigarette smoke and secrets.
The other few inhabitants were reserved and taciturn. A man sat at the counter, his head bowed. His disheveled locks swung around his face like curtains, hiding his face from the world. She caught a handful of glances however, and they were enough to discern that deep scars disfigured his face.
A woman was perched on a bench at the edge of the room, her long legs planted in the exact spot so as to employ the best light angles from the lamps flickering on the walls. She occasionally puffed on a cigarette and took languid sips from her glass, sighing.
The door creaked open greedily and another stranger stepped into the bar. The bartender took his order and began pouring the beverage.
Ginny took the last swig of her drink, aware that this was, perhaps, the lowest part of her short life so far. Here she was, surrounded by people she didn't know, stifling her smarting heart with liver-damaging liquor. Barbed tears seeped from beneath her eyelids.
This is depressing as hell.
She was mostly furious at herself for being a coward, and so promptly made up her mind that she was going to go visit Hermione. She knew for a fact that Ron was traveling in Turkey with Harry, so as to distract him from the breakup. Hermione would be alone in the flat and able to lend a bed for the night.
She placed her meager tip on the table and stood to leave.
"Going so fast, Weasley? I didn't know that I infuriated you so."
She stopped in her tracks, staring at the man who had just identified her. His voice sounded familiar, the inflection of his vowels immaculate. He was another who did not belong in this particular arena.
The man lowered his hood and severe grey eyes met hooded brown ones.
"Malfoy," Ginny breathed, her heart thrashing sourly in her chest.
"You sound surprised, Weasley. Not expecting to find a Malfoy tucked away in a sleazy bar like this? I might ask - for I wasn't anticipating to find a Weasley here either - what brings you to this fine establishment so late in the day?"
Ginny clenched her fists, her disgust rising like bile in her throat. Draco noted all this and continued before she could open her mouth.
"I might remind you, Weasley, that other ears are listening, and not kind ones. I suggest that you come outside before you begin hexing."
His tone was cold and scathing, but he held his arm out gallantly and for some inexplicable reason, she placed her arm in the crook of his.
When they were outside, Malfoy turned towards her, his voice disapproving.
"My dear, you look in dire need of some cleaning up."
At that moment she wanted nothing more to slap his smug little face, but she grudgingly reminded herself that her only other options were to return home and nurse another bottle or endure Hermione's scolding and nurse a bottle in private.
She stayed, for some reason. Later, she understood.
That night her hair was a mess, her dress wrinkled, her gait uneven. She had no will left but to clumsily tape her heart back together. She clung to Draco that night, downing another drink in some other sordid bar.
It wasn't the most opportune moment for a meeting. She was drunk, heart broken, and confused. He was drunk, broken, and lost.
But beggars can't be choosers.
When the world had deserted you, Ginny decided, you had only to reach out to what you never thought you could touch to find that human contact still had some healing power left.
Because bad company (and Draco was certainly awful company) still offered a shoulder to sob on.
She didn't regret it.
A/N: So there. I wish I could have added more to the ending because it didn't satisfy me, but whatever. Constructive criticism is thoroughly welcomed. :)