Real Love

Chapter 3: Combinations

Disclaimer: The song Ginny is singing in this can be anything you want it to be, but for me its Blackbird by The Beatles, so that's what the lyrics I put in there are from. I'd be interested to hear what song you might have used. And I won't say what song I hear Ginny singing the second time in this so I don't influence you.

A/N: My disclaimer turned into an A/N but enjoy! But does anyone have any good formatting tips for this site?? I don't remember having so much trouble in the past, but its been awhile so maybe I forgot something??

I went for so long
And I was so wrong
And then I met you
And now I can't live without you
And I don't want to
I've done that all my life up till now

Pass the evening, bring tomorrow
How could we know that night would bring us into daylight

-Combinations, Eisley

Ginny checked her watched and felt relief when she discovered in was nearly time to report for her shift in the hospital wing. She'd been working non-stop for the whole week trying to plan Hermione's homecoming. The planning process had started off fairly nicely when after the meeting Colin Creevy had told her that his cousin Alexander, a Hufflepuff, had a passion for muggle music and would probably be able to help out. Alex had jumped at the chance to provide music for the dance. Ellen Pruitt, a friend of Ginny's, had put Ginny in contact with her mother who was a Muggleborn seamstress. Mrs. Pruitt had agreed to bring a large collection of muggle fashions to Hogsmead, for the upcoming school outing. However, Ginny had overlooked that the first and second years would not be allowed to go, and a panic had ensued. From then on it seemed that nothing she did was without fault.

Eager to get to work as quickly as possible, Ginny changed in her room and was sure to leave all her ball plans behind. It had been a fairly slow week, and Ginny didn't want any opportunities to work on ball while she was there.

The only patient left was the cruciatus victim, and he hadn't been awake since that first night.

Ginny found Madame Pomfrey in her office, her face tense while she moved her quill across the forms on her desk.

"I took him off his medication," she told Ginny tersely.

"What? Why?" Ginny blurted out, caught off guard by the witch's decision.

"He's only been getting worse. They were only slowing the process."

"So he'll…" Ginny couldn't say it.

"Probably better off anyway. Let god decide what to do with his soul rather than let the ministry feed it to those disgusting dementors."

Ginny nodded and quickly left the office as she felt tears pricking her eyes. Madame Pomfrey wouldn't approve of crying; Ginny wasn't supposed to attach herself to her patients. How she was supposed to do that however, she had never quite figured out.

Ginny walked into the ward, and found that the man was awake, but unmoving.

She approached his bed slowly and sat down in the worn chair beside it. From the night table she picked up his chart and refreshed her memory.

She felt his eyes on her as she flipped through the pages and tried to ignore him while held his wrist in her hand, taking his pulse. Concentrating on the counting was difficult under his attentive gaze. Finally settling on an accurate reading, Ginny placed down his arm and scribbled her numbers onto his chart. She nearly flew out her chair when a large rough hand reached out and caressed her cheek. She looked up and found the eyes that had been watching her staring into hers.

" What would you say if I told you you're the most beautiful woman I've even seen," he spoke.

"That you must not have met very many women in your life!" Ginny chuckled.

"Oh I've had my share of female companions, but none of them compare to you." He replied and attempted a smile.

"I'm flattered." Compliments had always made her uncomfortable.

"Aren't you going to say anything about my good looks?"

Ginny couldn't help but laugh at his joke.

"Yeah. Imagine I look a little rough right now huh?"

It was at that moment that Ginny truly examined the man in front of her. He was young: much younger than Ginny had realized. He couldn't have been older than Fred and George, and despite his condition, now looking at him Ginny could tell that somewhere under it all he was probably the handsome charmer his personality cast him as.

"So does beautiful have a name?"

"Ginny."

"Ginny," he repeated. "Is that short for anything Ginny?"

"Ginerva."

"Well Ginny it is then."

She laughed again.

"Well Ginny, I'm Tad. Don't ask what it's short for. It's worse than yours."

"Well Tad, it's nice to me you."

"The pleasure's all mine."

Their conversation lasted late into the evening hours. Ginny missed dinner and had been in the infirmary much longer than she had been scheduled to be. She couldn't believe how much she was enjoying his company, and was unwilling to waste a minute of the time he had left.

As the clock approached ten their conversation had lapsed into a comfortable silence that was usually reserved for old friends, and Ginny could see Tad's eyes beginning to droop. The sight broke her heart.

"Ginny?" he broke the silence. "Do you think you could sing for me? Like you did for that other bloke?"

"Like I did for… You could hear me?" Ginny was shocked.

"Of course I could. Why do you think I threw such a fit when that bastard Malfoy interrupted you?"

Ginny almost laughed, remembering the night. To think the sweet boy sitting in front of her had once nearly knocked her out.

"How do you know Malfoy?"

"I worked under his father," he replied, and she noticed him attempting to hide his left arm from her.

"Oh." She immediately regretted asking.

"So will you? Sing me to sleep?"

Sleep. That was one word for it. She felt a sense of bitterness creep over her. Voldemort was wasting so many lives. There was no punishment Ginny could possibly think of that would ever be horrible enough to make her feel that he had paid for everything he was doing.

Ginny swallowed the tears she felt burning in her eyes and nodded in agreement to Tad's request.

"What would you like me to sing?"

"Anything."

Softly Ginny began to sing the first song that came to her head, and Tad shut his eyes to listen to her words. She was barely through the first few lines when a hot tear rolled down her cheek and onto the big hand that was holding hers. As it hit, she felt a reassuring squeeze, only forcing her tears to roll faster.

However Ginny managed to keep her voice steady as she sang and watched his breathing shallow, and felt his grip loosen on her hand.

She was on the last verse of the song when his hand slipped away and his chest stopped moving. Allowing her tears to flow freely, Ginny finished her song.

Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise

Draco watched in silence as she sang to the dying man in front of her. He watched her weep for the death eater that had covered her face with bruises not two weeks earlier. He could see Narcissa now. She'd kill a man herself before doing such a thing.

Draco kept still after she finished singing and sat in silence. Making the decision not to disturb her, he crept to the medicine cabinet to get himself his potion. After all that was what Madame Pomfrey had instructed him to do. He pulled open the cabinet door and cursed when an unsecured bottled fell to the floor with a loud crash.

He looked up just in time to see Weasley spin around in her seat and spot him. Her eyes were bloodshot. Her cheeks were tearstained and he chin was quivering.

"What are you doing here Malfoy?"

"Picking up my potion for the night," he told her coldly, careful not to give away any emotion.

"Why didn't you just ask Madame Pomfrey?" She was ferociously pawing away the tears with the heels of her hands. Her attempts were in vain though, as every droplet she cleared away was instantly replaced with a fresh one.

"She didn't have any. Asked me to fetch a bottle from here."

"Oh," Weasley rose from her seat and walked over to him, going about as if the tears flowing from her eyes didn't exist. "I was supposed to the storerooms for more but I…Well all I have is one bottle. I can pour you your dose."

She reached in to the cabinet and pulled out a glass. It trembled in her hand and she reached up to the top shelf for the bottle of potion. Draco reached out and grabbed her shaking wrists. She looked up at him, shock written across face.

"Why don't you let me do it Weasley?"

"No. It's my job. I can do it." She attempted to pull away but he didn't let go.

"Ginny," he said. That got her attention. He intended on insisting she hand over the glass, but instead heard himself say, "Close your eyes." His own words surprised him, but that fact that she listened surprised him more. "Now breathe."

He witnessed as she took one deep breath, a pained look surfaced on her face and she finally released an audible sob.

Gently he released her arms, took the glass from her hand and placed it back on the shelf. He took a step forward unsure of what he was really intending to do.

A shrill voice never allowed him to find out.

"Mr. Malfoy!" It called. "What pray tell is taking you so long?"

Madame Pomfrey then spotted Ginny.

"Ginny! What are you still doing here?"

Ginny composed herself as best she could. "I wanted to stay with him…"

"Well has he?"

"Yes," Ginny whispered.

"Well then scurry along. It's nearly past curfew."

Ginny nodded and left, giving him one last look before walking away.

Once Ginny had left Madame Pomfrey pulled the potion down from the cupboard.

"That girl had simply got to get a handle on her emotions." Draco didn't think the woman was actually speaking to him so much as she was speaking to herself, and he was glad not to have to answer. Had he been required to speak, he was sure he would tell off the woman she wanting Ginny to be a heartless crone like her.

Draco hated to admit but watching the Weasley girl serenade a man into a peaceful death had affected him in a way he didn't fully understand yet.

All his life he had been raised to believe that there were two sides to everything, and that the line that divided those lines was never crossed. Yet, he had just witnessed Ginny Weasley, poster girl for the Order's cause fail to contain her grief for a man who had the symbol of everything she was against etched into his arm.

Draco knew that he should consider her foolish; stupid, but at the moment he simply found her amazing.

"This is preposterous!"

Ginny couldn't help herself from listening to the shouting in the other room. She was sitting in the soldier's ward with little to do. Their only patient, a recent arrival who was missing his wrist bone in his wand arm was fast asleep, and there was really nothing she could do for him to help the re-growth process. The argument going on in the students' ward was far more entertaining.

"Mr. Malfoy I cannot continue to provide you with the potion. You're developing an addiction!"

"Wait till my father hears about this!" Malfoy shouted back. Ginny giggled at the fussy tone in the seventeen-year-old's voice.

"By the time your father hears anything about this it will be long over with," Madame Pomfrey tutted.

"My mother will surely have something to say."

"Your mother, Mr. Malfoy, is the one who contacted me to be sure you were not still taking the potion, seeing that you've been taking it all summer. Now choose a bed and get it. You'll be sleeping here until you have your night terrors under control."

"That's precisely what I'm trying to do."

"Go choose a bed Mr. Malfoy. It's late and you should be getting to bed."

"I'd prefer to sleep in my own bed if you don't mind"

"Now if your nightmares are so bad you require potions to control them, I won't have you spending your first night without them alone. Now find a bed before I dock your house any points."

Ginny didn't have to see him to know the look Malfoy was probably giving Madame Pomfrey.

"That boy…" The mediwitch entered the room. "Ginny what are you still doing here?"

"You have me on midnight shift tonight," she reminded her.

"Oh right. Well, there's not really much sense in that now. I have to stay anyway. Why don't you go back to your tower dear?"

"I can watch Malfoy if you want," she offered.

"Oh thank you Ginny, but you know your not allowed to look after other students."

"I won't tell if you won't"

Madame Pomfrey struggled with the offer.

"Trust me. I can handle Malfoy and I've taken care of patients with nightmares worse than anything he could imagine."

"Alright then," the woman caved. "Thank you Ginny. It's always nice to have a night to myself. Now if you need anything be sure to get me."

"I promise," Ginny said, and then she was alone.

Ginny frowned while watching Malfoy sleep. How could someone as horrible as Draco Malfoy look so angelic? Harry had always looked like an angel when he slept, but it was never particularly striking. Harry, after all, was the guardian angel of the wizarding world. Then again was it fair of her to call Malfoy evil? He'd certainly always been the most infuriating person she'd ever known, but somehow he had changed. He didn't go out of his way to tease her about her hair, and he longer seemed to be out to get people. He called things like he saw them, and never was anything less than brutally honest. Ginny wasn't sure what to make of the change, but often found that the things he said were the things she was thinking. Could she hate someone for voicing the words she was too afraid to?

And then there was that night, when in a rare moment of gentleness Draco had been the only person to comfort her when she desperately needed it. Madame Pomfrey never offered sympathy and only made Ginny feel like a fool. She had found Hermione enforcing curfew on her way back to the tower. Her best friend had actually wrestled over whether to take points from her and when Ginny quietly explained where she had been, Hermione had called her stupid for caring about a Death Eater and had stormed away. The only relief she received that night was Draco's gesture.

Just as Ginny decided she needed to get away from the Slytherin for a bit, she heard a small whimper escape him. She looked and saw that the previously relaxed, peaceful face had become tight and distraught. He mumbled words she couldn't make out, and began to toss.

Slowly she approached and as she did his words grew louder. Cries of "Stop!" and "No!" stood out in the gibberish. Ginny leaned over him and pulled her arm back, preparing to slab him awake. But when her arm came down she was unable to do it. Instead she gently cupped his cheek in her palm, softly stroking it with her thumb. His skin was like silk under her hand.

"Shhh," she comforted. His words quieted with her command, but he was still breathing heavily, and his face was still stern.

Ginny shifted gently to sit on the edge of the bed, moving her hand to his chest for balance as she made the change.

Her heart leapt when she felt the Slytherin's hand clasp onto hers. Her eyes shot up to his face, but she found him still fast asleep, his breathing beginning to even.

All her inhibitions left her sitting there with her hand firmly in his, and Ginny used her free arm to run her fingers through Draco's fine blond hair and quietly began to sing. Gradually Draco relaxed and Ginny's breath hitched. Her face was only inches away from his and she was suddenly aware that now she was the one who's heart was thumping.

She jumped out the bed so quickly that she was sure that she would wake him, but he remained in a peaceful slumber. Singing was something she did with all her patients, but she could still feel the flush on her cheeks from being so close to the boy in front of her.

'I'm just tired,' she thought. 'I was practically falling asleep while I was singing.'

For the time being, that explanation would have to do.

"Weasley! Weasley!" Ginny chose to ignore the boy calling down the hall after her the next afternoon, and quickened her step a bit.

"Weasley!" he called louder. "Ginny!" he yelled, annoyance in his tone.

Ginny stopped at the sound of her name, more out of shock than anything else.

"If I didn't know better Weasley I'd say you didn't want to talk to me." He caught up with her.

"What would make you think that Blaise?" Ginny widened her eyes innocently.

"Personally I'd be eager to chat with the guy giving me this." He flashed a dark

green envelop in front of her, her name scribed elegantly in silver across the front.

"You've got to be kidding me." She snatched the envelop out of his fingers and examined it although she was already positive she knew what it was. "Who on earth put me on the guest list and had me approved?"

"Fortunately no one had to approve Malfoy's personal invitation."

Ginny's jaw dropped and a satisfied grin spread across Blaise's face.

"Well I'd love to stay and chat Ginger but I have more people to delight. Oh and be a dear and give this to Granger for me," he tossed a second envelope at her. "And make sure she gets it. She's sure to be the life of the party."

He disappeared down the hall and Ginny remained in place, still thoroughly shocked.

"Finished with your deliveries already?" Draco heard him enter the head boy's quarters. He was the only person he'd trusted with the password.

"Yup," Blaise replied and plopped down on the edge of the bed.

"That was fast." Draco turned from the essay he was working on at his large oak desk and eyed his friend.

" It wasn't too hard to find someone eager for the job."

"Well in that case it took you an awfully long time." He turned back to his paper.

"Well there was one I had to deliver personally. Took me nearly the whole time to track her down."

"Who's the lucky girl?"

"Weasley."

Draco stopped writing, but didn't respond, or turn to look at his friend.

"You should have seen here face," Blaise chuckled.

"Developing a taste for the Weaslette Blaise?" Draco tapped his quill against his desk.

"Can you blame me? Who couldn't appreciate a piece like that walking around school?" Blaise added a fully unnecessary growl to the end of his exclamation.

"Most of the members of Slytherin," he replied.

"Most as in everyone but me? Or most as in everyone me and you?"

Draco spun in his chair. "What do you think?"

"I think you're the one who invited her."

"We all agreed before I was even chosen to be in charge that everyone in this school that matters would be invited, Slytherin or not and Weasley or not, Ginny Weasley matters. Does your family like the Parkinsons?"

Blaise wrinkled his face in distaste.

"But your mother still invites them to all your social events because they're socially powerful. Despite being poor and a Gryffindor, Weasley is a social princess."

"Malfoy, here's what I think. I think that you're full of shit that you somehow mange to pass off as knowledge, but don't worry, that can be our little secret. That, and the fact that we both very badly want the littlest Weasley."

Blaise then rose up and headed for the door. He only paused to say, "I'd say she's more of a goddess than a princess," and left.