Sweet Misery by Croyez

Rating: PG13
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Draco & Ginny
Book: Draco & Ginny, Books 1 - 5
Published: 18/05/2005
Last Updated: 18/05/2005
Status: Completed

‘I hate you’ she would say, ‘I can’t stop thinking about you, and I blame you, obviously, for
that. I’m not sane anymore; I can’t breathe freely thanks to you. What have you done to me? Why am
I so obsessed with what I am not to have? With someone that, clearly, doesn’t feel anything close
to this…this misery?’ One-Shot




1. One-Shot
-----------

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the Harry Potter characters, or anything related to them. If I
did, I’d be rich, and possibly writing a novel rather than writing fan fictions. =D I also don’t
own the song lyrics below; they belong to Michelle Branch, and they are from her song
*Desperately*.

Author’s Note: My first try at D/G, guys, so go easy on me! I’ve spent all day working on this;
I hope it’s to your liking. =) But if it isn’t, be gentle. Oh, and I almost forgot—this is a
one-shot!

*******

*Something 'bout the way you looked at me
Made me think for a moment,
That maybe we were meant to be
Living our lives separately
And it's strange that things change
But not me wanting you so desperately*

*******

**Sweet Misery**

Her flaming red hair fluttered behind her as she swirled in her dance. Her eyes, apparently
filled with joyous enjoyment, were only reflecting what her daydreams made her feel. Her body
twirled and spun with ease and elegance, unable to reflect the mess she felt inside, deep in her
heart. As Dean Thomas dipped her low to the ground, signaling the end of the dance, she smiled
brilliantly and excused herself for a moment to use the loo. He hoisted her back up and released
her, his hands trailing softly over her shoulders and lower back before he nodded and went to get
something to drink. With a quick nod and another smile, she hurried off into the Entrance Hall,
sprinted as fast as she could in her dress robes up the Grand Staircase, and burst through the
doors of the lavatory in the first floor. She entered the first cubicle she found, and, finally
alone, she sank to her knees and buried her face in her hands.

Her petite frame shook from her loud sobs, as small, pearly tears slid down her fair skin. She
was used to this pain. It was an overwhelming feeling of rejection, over and over, that never once
ceased to torment her. For five years she had felt this pain; for five years he had rejected her.
And yet, she’d forgotten about him.

But she had never expected that when she finally moved on, the next person would be so wrong for
her. She had never expected he would reject her as well, that he would be indifferent to her, and
that he would treat her so cruelly.

But what could one expect of Draco Malfoy, anyway?

And here she was, on her sixth year, alone and miserable. Although she’d long since stopped
feeling anything for Harry, the sight of him and Hermione happily dancing and laughing made her
sick. Why was it that they could be so happy, and she was shunted to the side, cold and forgotten?
As for Draco, he never ceased to make her miserable. And yet, sometimes it seemed he only
encouraged her longing for him. Even more, after what happened three nights ago…

FLASHBACK –

Ginny fumbled for her watch inside her robe pocket, her breathing coming in low gasps. She had
been strolling the halls, and she knew very well it was late, but she didn’t care anymore,
honestly. House points and detentions could only cause so much deception and upsetting. There were
far more important, pressing, painful matters.

*She knew he was around here somewhere. Probably with Pansy, having some fun. Oh, she knew he
wasn’t the type that would understand what she truly felt, but she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t
help feeling intrigued by his dark, brooding side, often hidden behind a veil of smugness and
obnoxiousness. She couldn’t help wondering what laid beyond those guarded, cold eyes…the pain she
knew he must feel, but was forced to hide. She had bizarre dreams of holding him in her arms and
washing all that pain away, and then looking into his eyes and saying those three words…*

*‘I hate you’ she would say, ‘I can’t stop thinking about you, and I blame you, obviously, for
that. I’m not sane anymore; I can’t breathe freely thanks to you. What have you done to me? Why am
I so obsessed with what I am not to have? With someone that, clearly, doesn’t feel anything close
to this…this misery?’*

*The sound of his cold voice broke the silence, startling her, “Weasley? What are you doing
out so late?”*

*She turned sharply, glaring at him instinctively, “I’m walking, as you can see,” she said
stiffly, crossing her arms, more as a means to make herself feel less uncomfortable rather than to
intimidate him.*

*“It’s late,”*

*She held up her watch, “So I’ve noticed,”*

*He raised an eyebrow, taking several steps towards her, until he was almost a hands breath
away. His gray eyes, cold as ice, were locked on her soft, brown ones. She stared back at him,
bewilderment evident, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. She was completely taken by surprise when he
raised his hand and pushed back a lock of her red hair from her face. His fingers grazed her skin
as he did so, sending involuntary shivers down her spine.*

*“Slytherins roam these halls in particular, you know. If one were to catch you, I’m sure
they’d feel no remorse in hurting you,” he said casually, his eyes glinting.*

*Ginny closed her eyes for a split second, wanting to let herself give in to his touch. She
drew a soft breath as she opened her eyes, regaining her composure. She smirked up at him, “You’re
a Slytherin,” she said, “and you’re not doing anything to me,”*

*He said nothing, and a few moments of awkward silence passed. Abruptly, however, his hands
snapped up to grab her arms, and he took advantage of her shock to steer her against a wall beside
them. Holding a firm grip on her arms, he leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “Never trust a
Slytherin,” he had a mocking tone to his voice, and his tantalizing breath on her ear made her
shiver again. She shut her eyes, feeling pain rise up in her. She desperately wanted him to let go
of her arms so she could explore his body, feel him even closer to her, but she knew that could
never come to pass. He was doing this to torment her with what she would never have, to make her
feel lower than dirt. She would never admit it to him that he was succeeding. She would not say
anything that might make him feel triumphant.*

*She would hide the truth about how this made her feel, how his touch on her arms made her
feel, and how his voice in her ear, ever so low, affected her.*

*He pulled back, cold eyes locked on hers again, which were stinging, as if she were near
tears. She fought them back, at least until she was out of his sight.*

*“You disgusting prat,” she spat, releasing herself from his grip and storming in the
direction of the Gryffindor Common Room.*

*The only sound was that of her footsteps and his cold laughter echoing off the walls.*

END FLASHBACK –

Ginny ran her hands through her hair, frustration taking over her. She didn’t know when this had
all started, but she desperately wanted to find out. Find out how, just how, she had gotten herself
in this.

She vaguely remembered it dating back to her fifth year. She’d gotten over Harry, and her
newfound confidence over this led her to be more open with people. She dated Dean Thomas, but she
always knew, despite the fact that he seemed crazy for her, that he wasn’t what she was looking
for. There was something missing. There was no passion, no love. When she was with him, even now,
she never felt at ease. She felt a small part of her, empty as ever, blindly reaching out for
someone that could ease her hollowness.

And that’s when Malfoy had come in. Somewhere last year, she’d began to notice him more. Her
gaze wandered from Dean to the Slytherin table, to a person that had always rejected her, that had
never expressed any interest in her. And yet, she was intrigued. She wanted to know who he really
was, what he wanted and what he was like. She’d realized that she’d always seen him the way Harry
saw him, and that she’d never cared to know more. What could those cold, narrowed eyes be
hiding?

She snorted self-depreciatingly. How could she have ever thought there was more to Draco
Malfoy?

She stood up, smoothing her pale white dress robes. She exited the cubicle, and looked in the
mirror. Her mascara had watered as she cried, and had run down her cheeks, leaving fine black
trail. Her eyes were red and swollen, as they always were when she cried. If she spent more than a
minute crying, they’d stay like that for ages unless she charmed them to normal.

So, she pulled out her wand and casted a few spells here and there until she looked like nothing
was wrong. She smiled at herself in the mirror, marveling at how easy it was to appear completely
composed when inside she was an utter mess.

She walked out of the lavatories and rushed back to the ball, hoping for dear Merlin that Dean
hadn’t noticed her prolonged absence. She mad it to the Great hall, her brisk run turning into a
calm walk abruptly, and she caught sight of Dean talking with Lavender, who was flirting
incessantly. She rolled her eyes to herself, shaking her head. He was falling for it, too,
smiling.

Still, better he be with her, who clearly likes him, than me.

Ginny sighed and turned back to look at the dancing couples, all of whom looked completely
content and as though they were enjoying themselves. Harry and Hermione, pressed closely together,
eyes locked on each other…Ron and, well, no one, really, but he still looked like he was having
fun…Luna was dancing with another Ravenclaw boy, throwing odd, dreamy looks in Ron’s
direction…Pansy was dancing with…ugh, Crabbe.

At the sight of Pansy, she wondered where Draco was. He always went with Pansy to this sort of
things, after all. Ginny was filled with an intense curiosity, wondering whether he’d come with
another Slytherin girl. Or maybe he was alone…

Oh, please. I’m stronger than this. Who cares if he came with someone else or not? I am not
going to think about him anymore…

*I have to distract myself.*

She made her way to a table and sat down, conjuring a drink and sipping from it as she observed
her surroundings. In less than a minute, she saw a hand waving to her from the crowd, and Hermione
emerged, looking flushed but happy, a delirious grin on her face.

“Hi, Ginny,” she said cheerily, flopping down onto a chair beside her, “Where’s Dean?”

Ginny shrugged, “I don’t know. Off snogging with Lavender, probably,”

Hermione’s eyes widened, “What? But aren’t you two dating?” Ginny shrugged again, her eyes
involuntarily scanning the crowd for Malfoy, and Hermione made a noise of incredulousness, “Gin,
what’s wrong? You act as if you don’t care,”

“Maybe…maybe I don’t anymore. Maybe I realized that we just weren’t meant to be like that,
Hermione,” Ginny said quietly, taking a sip from her drink.

Hermione’s eyes flashed with concern, and she edged closer to Ginny, placing her hand on her
shoulder in a comforting gesture, “Are you sure you’re okay? I just…you seem upset. If it’s not
Dean that bothers you, then what?”

Ginny gave her a small smile, “Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies, Hermione,” she
said, echoing Fred and George. She pushed her hair back from her face, that simple movement
immediately reminding her of the other night, when Malfoy had caught her in the hall, and her smile
faded slightly.

“Ginny—“

“Hermione, there are things I just keep to myself, and I’m sure you can relate. What’s bothering
me…it’s something only I can solve, that only I understand,” she paused, her eyes darting to the
doors of the entrance hall, where Draco Malfoy’s lone figure stood, mouth curled in a sneer.
Wearing silk robes of a dark green with fine silver trimmings on the sleeves, he walked inside,
throwing disdainful looks at most people. As he walked over for a table to sit, his eyes locked on
Ginny’s, who was staring, transfixed, at him, eyes round and glassy. He smirked and sat down, his
back to her.

Ginny swallowed with difficulty, “I’ll figure it out myself,” she sputtered, hoping Hermione
didn’t notice where her gaze traveled.

“Oh, honestly, Gin,” Hermione sighed, “I’m worried about you,”

“Leave it, Hermione. I’m fine,” Ginny snapped, and Hermione fell silent. Shortly after, Harry
came back for her, mumbling something about Luna wanting to dance with him. Hermione laughed and
they linked hands, making their way through the crowd to the door, apparently heading towards the
Grounds.

Ginny leant back on her chair, sitting her drink with an air of moodiness. She was uncertain as
to what she felt for Draco. She was attracted to him, yes, but not in the usual way she felt
attracted to guys. She wasn’t actually lusting after him. It was different with him.

She didn’t love him, of course. She hardly knew him.

But it was something along the lines of…curiosity? Pity, maybe, because she knew he had to hide
his emotions?

No, none of those words seemed to describe what she felt. It was strange, that was for sure.
Something unknown to her, something that drew her to him without any explanation, and she felt she
wouldn’t be able to cope with it any longer. She wanted to give in, to fall into his arms, into his
attempts to torment her, but something always held her back. Her stubbornness never let her give
in, and she partly thanked herself for that. There would always be something to hold her back,
because she very well knew that they couldn’t ever work out.

But how she wished they could…how she wished she could let herself take a chance and fall into
the unknown, into the darkness.

“Oy, Gin!”

Ron’s voice broke into her thoughts. She blinked, surprised to find him standing in front of
her, holding his hand out expectantly. She frowned, “What?”

“Hermione wants me to dance with you,”

Ginny smirked as she took his hand, “How subtle, Ron. It’s so nice that you can keep things to
yourself,” she got to her feet in a swift movement and led Ron to the dance floor, thankful for
something to keep her mind off Malfoy. When dancing with Ron, you really had to concentrate on
keeping your feet safe rather than anything else, after all.

Ron gave her a bemused look and shrugged, “She says you’re upset, too. What’s wrong?”

Ginny ignored his question, instead turning to him and quickly beginning to dance. Ron had no
option but to follow her in the dance, disentangling his feet and clumsily moving around. Ginny
laughed at this, watching as he struggled to keep up with her.

“Gin, don’t avoid it,” Ron said suddenly, fixing her with a serious stare, “What are you upset
about?”


Ginny met his eyes, regretting it as he treaded on her foot, “Ouch!” she hissed, “Watch your
step, Ron! And I’m fine, I don’t know what you’re on about,”

Ron spun her around, barely managing to keep her from colliding with someone, “I’m not thick,
Gin. D’you think I haven’t noticed the way you’ve been acting lately?”

Ginny glared at him, purposefully stepping on his foot, “I’m not acting any different,”

Ron winced as her foot made contact with his, but didn’t comment, “Is it about Dean?” he
demanded, feeling a surge of rage at the thought that Dean might have hurt her.

Ginny sighed loudly, letting go of him and stepping back, “Why does everyone assume I’m crying
my eyes out over him?” she hissed, “Listen, I’ll grant you, it’s because of someone that I’m upset,
but it most certainly isn’t about Dean!” Her face had gained a red tinge, the usual sign of tension
in the Weasleys. She gave Ron one last withering look before dashing off in the direction of the
doors.

Forget this. Why did I even come here? I’m going to bed…

“Weasley!”

A shiver ran down her spine. Why was it that only he could do that to her? She turned slowly,
eyes fixed on his towering figure. He took a few steps towards her, and extended his arm out.

“You haven’t danced with me,”

Ginny gave him an incredulous look, a blush creeping to her cheeks, “I never agreed to,” she
said coolly.

Draco smirked, “Well, now I’m asking you,” Ginny looked up into his eyes, and saw, not the usual
disdain, but something else. They were softer, somehow. There wasn’t any sharpness or anger to
them. It was almost as if he was pleading her to dance with him.

“I…” Ginny trailed off, his touch on her hand numbing her, ridding her of any feeling or any
thought, as he gently steered her to the dance floor. He gently took her other hand and pulled her
towards him as the slow tune played, their bodies moving almost by themselves, eyes boring into
each others’. Oblivious to the shocked looks they were getting, they moved softly in synch with the
music, Ginny’s hands releasing Draco’s and twining themselves around his neck. As Draco lowered his
hands to her waist, however, Ginny began to see through the fog in her mind.

Wow, he smells nice…mmm…this is actually not so bad. Why had I been avoiding this again?

Wait a minute, what if he’s just toying with my feelings again? How do I know he’s not doing
this for the sole purpose of causing me pain?

Oh, Merlin is that his hand on my waist? I think I’m going to die…

That what he wants! He doesn’t love me and he never will. He doesn’t understand…he doesn’t
understand what I feel for him. Not even I do…I’m here in his arms right now, everything I wanted
right here, and I’m still filled with this doubt.

Oh, bollocks! Let go of me! Let go…let me go!

Ginny began to wriggle in his arms, letting go of him and forcibly wrenching herself away from
him. She looked up at him, tears in her round brown eyes, managing a feeble scowl. He looked down
at her, visibly confused, until she emitted a loud huff and made a run for the door again, this
time managing to tug it open and exit without any interruptions.

She walked up the Grand Staircase, tears falling freely from her eyes, until she heard footsteps
behind her. Fully expecting to see Ron there, she turned, ready to tell him that she needed some
time alone and that she was fine, when she found it wasn’t Ron.

“Merlin, Malfoy, what do you want from me?” she sighed exasperatedly, tired of playing this game
for so long. She was ready to give in, to confront him and maybe reach an agreement. She couldn’t
deal with this anymore.

“Why are you so bloody upset?”

“Why are you dancing with me? And why are you cornering me in the halls at night, whispering in
my ear? Why do you give me that knowing smirk when we see each other? Why did I catch you touching
my hair the other day? I’m tired of this...this charade, Malfoy,” Ginny blurted out, letting the
words escape freely from her.

Draco remained silent for a few moments, before he gave her an incredulous look, “Why do you
think, Weasley? Ginny, I mean,” he added, his eyes locking on hers, “It’s obviously not because I
hate you,”

Ginny crossed her arms, feeling dizzy all of a sudden. Was Draco Malfoy admitting that he
fancied her? “Do you fancy me?” she asked quietly.

“You could put it that way, I suppose,”

“Then why can’t you court me like normal guys do? You’ve been driving me insane for the past few
weeks! I can’t breathe; I can’t sleep anymore without you in my thoughts. I’m tired of being
uncertain!” Ginny snapped, her hands coming to rest at her hips, eyes narrowed.

Draco scowled, “There’s just no way to please you, is there? Listen, Weasley—I mean Ginny—I
don’t work that way. I thought women liked mysterious types, anyway,” he added, and Ginny was
momentarily surprised. Was that meant to be a joke?

No, she decided. He looked all too serious, with his eyes narrowed, tension written all over
them, “I can’t do this,” she murmured quietly, shoulders drooping, “I can’t…you’re just too
complicated! All his time I thought this was an elaborate scheme to make me miserable. You’re not
really sending out the right signals by scaring me half to death in a dark corridor,”

“What do you want me to do? I am not the roses-and-candy type. Maybe I had you all wrong,
Weasley. If you’re looking for a fairy tale, go back to Potter,” Draco snarled viciously.

Ginny’s eyes narrowed even more, and before she could help it, the words were out of her mouth,
“I hate you! You bloody, insufferable prick!” She paused, glowering at him, and continued, “You
made my life a living hell for the past few weeks, baiting me with what I thought I could not have,
getting ridiculous notions of a romance with you in my head, and making me think there was more to
you. But there’s nothing more, Malfoy, nothing more than a hateful, inconsiderate git!”

She turned sharply on her heel and broke into a run towards the Gryffindor common room, knowing
that when he got over the shock of what she’d said, he’d come after her again. But this time she
expected it. She fumbled for her wand, which she had charmed to the inside of her sleeve, and
mentally readied herself to use it.

But the minutes went by, and he never came. Slowly, she began to feel more relaxed, and what he
said came down on her.

He fancies me?!

Ginny stopped dead in her tracks.

This was what she had been looking for, wasn’t it? She had wanted a deeper insight of him, a
glance into the person that laid within. And now, when she’d had it for a few moments, she’d ruined
it with doubts and worries.

But she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t help thinking they were too different, too volatile to be
with each other.

“…Maybe I had you all wrong, Weasley. If you’re looking for a fairy tale, go back to
Potter,”

His words echoed in her head, making her wonder. Love wasn’t always like the love Harry and
Hermione had, where they just clicked from the start. Sometimes, love was unexpected,
unpredictable, and things weren’t okay from the start. Sometimes, people were completely different
from each other, to a point where the only thing they shared in common was their attraction. And a
thirst for freedom. And, maybe, just maybe, an insecure feeling about things, never knowing whether
their next move would condemn them or not.

And most times, an attraction needed time to grow into something deeper. People needed time to
adjust to their new way of life, to the person that they were with, and the way they were.

Love didn’t just appear out of nowhere.

And she couldn’t expect him to act in a way that clearly wasn’t him. She couldn’t expect him to
lavish her with flowers and compliments. This was Malfoy.

And yet, his acting could mean something good for her. If he was so insecure about the way he
should court her, then that might mean he was feeling something different, too. Something new for
him. Maybe, just maybe, he knew that what he felt was more than an attraction.

With these thoughts in mind, she turned on her heel and made her way back to the Grand
Staircase, hoping he was still there. She found him sitting on the topmost stair, staring at the
large door leading to the grounds with a faraway look on his face.

“Malfoy,” she said softly.

He turned his head sharply towards her, surprise evident in his eyes, though he didn’t say
anything. He looked into her eyes for a fleeting second before turning back to his contemplation of
the door, “Go away, Weasley,”

She sighed, “I didn’t mean what I said,”

He remained silent, determinedly looking anywhere but her.

“I’m willing to work at it, if you are,” she said quietly, taking a few steps closer to him. She
sat down beside him, crossing her legs at the ankles and looking down at the floor, anywhere but
him.

“We can’t have anything, Weasley, you said it yourself,”

Ginny shook her head, “I wasn’t thinking when I said that! Please, Malfoy, I just…I can’t just
forget about this and never wonder what we could have been,”

“So this is all an experiment for you? Face it, Weasley. We’re not meant to be together,”

Hearing those words out of his mouth caused Ginny to feel her own doubt kicking in, a pain
weighing down her hear and making her breathing troublesome. Her eyes blurred with tears,
overflowing…they ran down her cheek, cold and painful, each one.

They reminded her of her loneliness, her own pain and hopelessness.

She sobbed. She couldn’t really help it. She felt his gaze on her, watching her, boring a hole
in her. And then, she felt his touch on her cheek, wiping away a single tear.

She stiffened, feeling him coming closer, and pulled away. She looked down on him, tears pouring
down her cheeks, and she affixed him with a cold stare, “No. Don’t touch me. I’m not going to do
this, Malfoy. I’m not going to wait on you forever while you keep changing your mind. So, as much
as it pains me to say this, I think we should just…forget about each other,”

Draco stared back at her, his hand outstretched in midair, where it had been when he’d wiped the
tear off her cheek. He seemed dumbstruck. But then, he managed a smirk, “Fine,”

Ginny had thought her heart could sink no lower, but at his words, she felt as if she were being
ripped apart, “Fine,” she managed, before turning on her heel again and walking swiftly away from
him.

She couldn’t help looking back at where he had been. And neither could he, turned, looking
intently as she retreated.

As their eyes locked, they both knew they wouldn’t be able to do what they’d just agreed to
do.

Draco stood up tentatively, and began walking towards her. Ginny took a few hesitant steps
towards him as well, wondering if she was doing the right thing.

They continued walking towards each other calmly, until they were barely a few feet apart. Ginny
outstretched her arms, locking them around his neck and pulling herself towards him. Draco wrapped
his arms around her, inhaling deeply, letting her soft scent wash over him. They remained like
that, in each other’s arms, for a few minutes, before they pulled back and gazed at each other
breathlessly. Slowly, they began to move their heads closer, until they were barely apart. But just
as Ginny expected their lips to touch, she felt his breath on her ear.

“Never trust a Slytherin, Weasley,” he whispered softly. She smiled, and leaned in to whisper in
his ear as well.

“I’ll take my chances with you, Malfoy,” she said, lips grazing his skin as she spoke.

Draco began creating a trail of kisses along her jaw line, until he reached hr lips. Their first
kiss was soft, innocent, barely a touch of the lips. Draco pressed his lips harder to hers, her
soft smile against his lips encouraging him. Her lips parted slightly, and he traced the outside of
her lower lip with the tip of his tongue. She intercepted it quickly, and their kiss deepened
considerably.

It became steadily more passionate, harder to stop.

***

Harry and Hermione came into the Great hall with pleased, tired looks on their faces. After a
good snogging session, they had no more energy to dance, so they decided they would instead head up
to the common room and go to sleep early. They ascended the steps of the Grand Staircase, Harry’s
hand draped over Hermione’s shoulders, and took the usual way to Gryffindor tower.

A shadow near the middle of the passage caught their eye.

It was…two people. And they were apparently having a bit of a snog. Harry smirked. Dances at
Hogwarts truly meant something entirely different when you had someone to be with.

Hermione pursed her lips, “This is outrageous, honestly! You’d think they’d have the decency to
go outside and conceal themselves, but no…I’m taking House Points for this,”

Before Harry could stop her, she was walking swiftly towards the couple, her lavender dress
robes billowing behind her. He hastened his step behind her, too, trying to catch up with her and
persuade her not go too hard on them.

But when she stopped dead in her tracks, he collided heavily with her, and she emitted a loud
shriek of surprise. The couple pried themselves apart and whirled to face them, shocked.

Harry just…stared, as did Hermione, whose eyes were wide and her mouth was open.

Harry surveyed Ginny’s flushed face and her messy hair, his eyes then traveling to Malfoy, whose
light-blonde hair was slightly ruffled, his face also flushed, and was unable to contain his
foremost thought from pouring out of his mouth, “Someone sure got over Dean,” he said in a low
voice, and Hermione elbowed him hard on the ribs, giving him a glowering look.

Ginny and Draco glanced at each other, exchanging an amused look at the expression on Harry and
Hermione’s faces. Wordlessly, they began walking way from each other, Draco in the direction of the
Grand Staircase and Ginny in the direction of the stairs to the second floor.

They looked back only once, and they both knew they had found what they’d been looking for.

FIN --



