Goyle sits in the kitchen, waiting for her when she gets home. Ginny drapes her cloak over the chair and sits across from him.
"I don't think I can love you," she says bluntly.
He nods. He's probably guessed as much.
"I'm sure the feeling is mutual," she says. "You probably can't love me either."
Another nod. At least they are in the same boat. It's almost a relief.
"But we have to make this work somehow," she adds.
"I don't want to die."
She hates how helpless and afraid he sounds. He's not supposed to be so human. He's just Goyle, just some bully who likes to hurt people. Why does he have to have emotions?
With a groan, she leans back, staring at the ceiling. It would be so much easier if it was just his life on the line. She could run away without fear. It might not be the noble thing to do, but it would be easy.
"I don't want my parents to die," she says, returning her gaze to him.
"We have to make a baby," he says, frowning. "But we don't love each other."
"We don't even like each other," she agrees. "That could be problematic in the bedroom."
He nods. "I'm hungry."
"Don't you know how to cook?"
"We had elves."
Ginny sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. Patience has never been her strong point, and she finds herself quickly running out. "I'll teach you how to make onion soup," she says softly. "Even you could do it."
He almost smiles.
…
Ginny sits in the living room after dinner, glancing over the newspaper as Goyle showers.
As a little girl, her father would always read the newspaper after dinner. But this isn't the same sort of news from those days. Death Eater propaganda. Rewards for escaped Muggleborns. Ginny can hardly stomach it, but she manages it because it's the closest she can come to some semblance of normalcy.
The door bursts open, and Draco bustles in without knocking. "Where's Goyle?"
"Showering. It's rude not to knock before entering a home," Ginny says, setting the newspaper aside.
Draco waves a dismissive hand. "I didn't come here for etiquette lessons, Weasley," he says dryly. "But, while we're on them, it is polite to offer refreshments to your guests. Tea with milk and one sugar."
Ginny scowls, but it quickly gives way to a grin. "Kitchen's that way," she says, though she climbs to her feet. "You're putting a lot of trust in me. How do you know I won't poison you?"
Draco follows her into the kitchen. "Because I saved your arse a few times," he reminds her. "My uncle said you went to see your parents."
Ginny stiffens and doesn't answer. She busies herself with the kettle.
"Maybe I could figure something out. My uncle watches over the prison now. If you cooperate, maybe he could help your parents."
Remember who holds the cards, little girl.
She shakes her head. "Why would he help me? I'm just here for entertainment," she says bitterly.
Draco sighs. "Fair point."
"How's Pansy?" Ginny asks, desperate for a subject change.
"Insufferable, as always," he says. "Honestly, she's a nightmare! What the hell are they playing at, pairing me with her?"
Ginny can't help but to smile. At least she isn't the only one miserable.
"I was hoping it'd be you," he admits.
His words surprise her. They had grown to not hate each other during the year leading up to the final battle. She could consider him a comfort, an ally, maybe even a friend. But the thought that a Malfoy would even consider a Weasley as a lover seems unbelievable.
"I saw you look at me before the pairing. I assumed you were just wishing me luck," she says, lifting the kettle off the stove and pouring the water into the cups over the tea bags.
"You aren't as terrible as Pansy," he says lightly.
Ginny can't help but to grin. "I'll take that as a compliment, Malfoy."
"You'd better, Weasley."
She finishes the tea and sets the cups at the table.
"Are you going to do it?" Draco asks. "Have a baby, I mean."
Ginny sighs, blowing on her drink. "I don't have a choice, do I?"
"I said the same about joining the Death Eaters. You're the one who told me there's always a choice," he reminds her.
"Well, mine is pretty hopeless either way," she says.
"You don't sound like the Ginny I know. The Ginny I know doesn't care about hopeless. She's fierce, and she will handle any challenge like it's nothing."
"I don't think that Ginny lives here anymore," she admits.
Draco shakes his head. "Sure she does. She's just sleeping. Just wait. You'll have some great plan and save the day."
"I'm not Harry."
"No, you're not that intolerable."
She flinches. It's hard to hear anyone talk poorly about those she cares about now.
Draco doesn't apologize. He drinks his tea, staring at the clock. "Merlin, did Goyle drown in there? He's only got half a brain, you know."
"You don't have to be so cruel."
"Defending him?" Draco asks, smirking. "Don't tell me you're catching feelings for him already."
Ginny feels the heat rise in her face. "Listen, if you're going to come in here with your negativity, you can just bloody well piss off, got it?"
Draco grins. "There's the old Ginny," he says triumphantly, placing the cup on the table. "I knew she was still there somewhere. You just have to know how to find her. I'd better go. Tell Goyle I'll see him tomorrow for lunch."
…
She's fierce, and she will handle any challenge like it's nothing.
But Ginny doesn't feel fierce as she opens the bedroom door. She feels cracked, like she might break at any moment.
She thinks of her parents, of their sad eyes slowly fading bodies. There has to be a way to get them out.
Goyle looks up when she enters, his head tilted to the side in confusion. "Thought you were sleeping on the couch," he says.
Ginny lifts her head high, forcing a smile that trembles. "Who said anything about sleeping?" she counters, climbing in beside him and resting a hand on his chest. "We have a year, so we had better get started now."
Goyle seems to understand. He leans closer, clearing his throat. "I don't know how to do this," he admits.
"Me neither," she says. "But we're going to figure it out."
She presses her lips to his. He follows her lead, but his heart isn't in it. The other boys she's kissed had at least had some feelings for her. His kiss is awkward, sloppy, and without care.
Ginny pulls him closer, laying back and guiding him.
She has to be brave somehow.