With or Without You by Smashed Sunshine

Rating: PG13
Genres: Drama, Romance
Relationships: Draco & Ginny
Book: Draco & Ginny, Books 1 - 4
Published: 03/07/2003
Last Updated: 03/07/2003
Status: Completed

Based around the lyrics of U2's 'With Or Without You', this is a story of love and
pride in a blaze of war. Can you survive when nothing is ever fair in love and war? Or will the
ghosts be the only thing to keep Draco alive when there is nothing left? *Edited*




1. With or Without You
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Johnson Normal Johnson 1 2 2003-07-03T09:49:00Z 2003-07-03T09:51:00Z 1 6698 38183 - 318 89 44792
10.2625 MicrosoftInternetExplorer4

**With or Without You**

*See the stone set in your eyes
See the thorn twist in your side.
I wait for you.*

The concept of time has an amazing talent at changing the way people perceive the world.
Sometimes there is too little time, making your heart beat that small fraction faster and making
your thoughts become strained at the idea of how little time there really is left. At other times
there is too much time and it stretches out in front of you like an endless desert. You long to
reach out and touch the horizon, for this time to finally be over and to be free of its
constraining shackles. Finally though there is the point where time is nothing and it is merely
something that happens to other people as you sit in your own bubble.

For Draco Malfoy, this much was true. Life itself had been eroded away from the raw warmth of
his body, leaving nothing but a shell of a man that used to have something ahead of him. His
horizons had never been far from his grasp but now there were no horizons. Everything was just
eventual and through his eyes was the shade of grey he connected with nothing.

The sky might be blue over the world, but to him it was torn apart and left gaping at the seams.
All that was left was the black hole that seemed to suck everything out of his frail body.

The flowers might be in bloom, showing off their petals to the dancing sun, but he couldn’t
smell the sweet fragrance. Instead he smelt the stench of death that lingered within the earth of
which they grew. All the swirling colours coming together and forming the crimson red of blood
spilt.

Birds flew across the skies, filling it with the harmonies of a life that was fragile and
perfect. His ears though had become deaf to the pleas of optimism that the world around him
presented. It screamed at him to hear something of life and yet they were blocked out by the shouts
of terror that echoed through his ears.

Love filled the beings of planet earth with a sense of happiness. Everyone had a smile somewhere
that showed the hope of a new world growing out from the weeds of depression. Draco though was
blind to it all.

His eyes were set heavy within themselves, giving the impression of a never ending black hole.
They showed nothing of himself, but everything that he had been through. All evidence of the over
spilling tears had vanished from his face, leaving behind only the endless trauma of life hate. The
tempestuous flecks of grey and silver merged together, blinding him of the happiness everyone else
felt.

Anyone who glanced upon him wouldn’t see the hurt and pain at first. Those who spent mere
minutes with him though would see it and in turn would feel their hearts tighten with pity. That
wasn’t what he wanted though. All Draco wanted was the hum of the world to be silenced, for his
frozen lake of a heart to be smashed apart and for the scars across his body to reopen and swallow
his life up.

Most of all though he wanted the wait to be over.

*Sleight of hand and twist of fate
On a bed of nails she makes me wait
And I wait… without you*

Friends were something he had always been lacking, even back from when he was a slip of a child
in school. There had been his followers, who at the time he had considered to be friends. They had
never even come close to it though. He never shared secrets with them, celebrated special
occasions, or even spoke to them about anything that interested him. It wasn’t his fault he had
been so cold and off hand with the world, but everyone looked upon it that way. He hadn’t wanted to
become attached to people who would eventually die and leave him alone in a world full of
strangers. Lucius had always instilled that upon him.

No person was made completely of ice though and eventually it would have to melt away, revealing
the vulnerability he had suffocated. This knowledge had always been niggling him at the back of his
mind. It was eventual that everyone would fall in love at least once and Draco found himself
waiting for it to wash over him. When he had reached 16 and still nothing had happened, he had
given up on the idea. As his father had always said, it was better never to involve yourself and
stand away from the maddening crowd. It would make him stronger. It would make him into a man just
like his father. Just like his father.

That was exactly what he was. His heart was as solid as the oak that had stood outside his
bedroom window before the war. It had been sturdy and good to climb, yet it was ugly and scared by
years of hard weather. It’s roots pushing up from the safe haven of the earth. That was how he
viewed his heart and vowed never to fall in love. It would be stupid to allow someone to touch
something so ugly within the body of a powerful, wealthy and dark man.

What he hadn’t expected though was the downpour of rain that fell like sequins from the bag,
onto the ground. It had soaked through his shirt burning the cold flesh that lay beneath. Annoyed
at this intrusion into his life by something so superficial as mere weather, Draco had walked his
way the doorway of the nearest shop along Diagon Alley. Shivers had beaten his body, forcing him to
pull his cloak further round himself.

Suddenly a slight girl, with hair redder then anything he had ever seen, pushed past him into
the slight space that was left. She had turned to face him and looked up blankly into his face.
There was no sign of recognition in her deep ebony eyes, yet she seemed intent on staring up at him
with no thought of how rude it was.

His first thought had been to lash out at her. Make her feel his wrath for pushing into his safe
haven without even asking politely. Make her feel how much power he, as a Malfoy, had. Something
though stopped him. She seemed vaguely familiar and soon he found himself gazing back into the
drugging pools that were her eyes. They were big and brown and looked so truly innocent, though
something about them looked haunted by darkness.

Flicking his eyes further down he began to notice how close they were. The rain had soaked
through her thin cloak and it was too small so parted slightly at the front to show part of her
white top. It, like the cloak was thin, and was saturated with water. It clung to her skin
tantalisingly, making Draco want to touch her. Never before had he met someone who had this sort of
affect on him.

‘You have an eyelash on your cheek,’ had come the sweet sound from the lips he found himself
suddenly fixated with. Her hand had risen and brushed some invisible intruder from his face.
‘That’s better.’

The smile on her face was that of an angel and he couldn’t help the gravity defying tug at his
lips. Finally it had washed over him. It left nothing of the boy he had been behind. He was shocked
at the way it had happened so quickly.

‘Do I know you?’ he had asked in what seemed like a whisper.

‘Yes,’ she had stated simply, ‘I don’t think I know you though.’

Again he had gazed into those eyes, realising that it didn’t matter if he did know her because
she had to be his. He could feel it in his heart. This woman had unlocked something more dark and
terrible then anything he had ever experienced before and because of this she had to be the one.
She might not know it, but she had to be his.

‘What’s your name?’

‘Virginia Weasley.’

*With or without you*

The name itself had struck a chord, but somehow it didn’t seem to matter. Something within him
screamed down the walls that what he was feeling was wrong. She was beneath him in every single
way. A Weasley was far too weak and pathetic to be so alarmingly beautiful. It must have been
trickery.

*With or without you*

Yet denial couldn’t hold back his body’s urge. Leaning forward he had kissed her hard and slow
on the lips. It was as sudden as a hurricane and he didn’t understand it. All he knew was that if
he didn’t kiss her then he would never kiss her again. That in itself had seemed too large a
feat.

It had begun and nothing could take it away.

*Through the storm, we reach the shore
You gave it all but I want more
And I'm waiting for you…*

Love was something so unexpected that it changed everything in Draco’s life. It was turned
upside down and spun out of control by a young girl, who’s hair was the colour of blood on the sun.
His father disowned him and glared down upon him as if he were some speck of mud upon his shoe. He
was thrown out of the house at great length, and with his worldly possessions bundled in his arms
he couldn’t help but laugh. It was all so strange and different.

Virginia didn’t seem taken aback at all by what had happened though, and he never asked why that
was. She had simply, in her own way, tugged him into her life into a space that had never before
been filled. Being a year his junior, she had never before taken a lover. In fact she had only just
left the haven that had been Hogwarts, but she seemed reticent to mention it.

Every night they would lie together in her bed, both fully clothed, and gaze into each others
eyes. Every time he got the impression that she was trying to work him out, and he guessed he was
doing exactly the same. It was infuriating to be in love with someone you didn’t even know. Even
more so was the fact she didn’t ever offer the answers freely and because of this he never asked.
Her eyes were still haunted by the invisible evil and sometimes when she fell asleep she would
writhe in the bed and shout of in her sleep. His arms would clasp around her tiny body and hold her
against him, soothing her hair and whispering away the world’s troubles.

Even thing though couldn’t last very long. Voldemort was beginning to rise in the west and soon
all the young wizards and witches of the land were being called forward to fight against him.

‘You don’t want to hurt him. I know that. You have to do what is right though.’

Draco looked up from his newspaper at her profound comment. Usually they hardly spoke and kept
any communication to touches and sweet kisses. He was content at that and it seemed to make her
happy that he never asked for more.

‘Pardon?’ his confusion had been clear then.

‘Your father. You know he’s going to be out there among the hordes of evil. I heard you last
night whisper it in your sleep. You don’t want him to die like that, with that blood on his name.
Yet you want to fight along with the others and prove yourself worthy.’ She remained silent and
calm at all times usually, but this time her voice was strained by some sort of emotion.

‘What would you have me do Virginia?’ he had asked as he moved to stand in front of her.

‘I would have you love me and need no reason to go out and have yourself killed just to prove
you weren’t what everyone thought you were.’

‘You know how I hate to disappoint.’

‘You know how I hate to have you be an arrogant pig when I know you’re not.’

*With or without you*

He knew deep within him that he had to fight. It was more about honour then everything else. In
his mind there was nothing left for him to prove to the world. He had already defied Lucius by
falling in love with the enemy and allowing himself to be alienated by their goodness.

Never would he be as good as the great Potter or Weasley. Never would he love them all as if
they were friends, they would never be that. Never would he become a nice and caring man, just
because he was in love. It wasn’t in his blood, as it was in his blood to hate and loathe. The only
thing his heart would ever love would be Virginia and only Merlin knew why.

Yet he was scared. He was more scared then he had ever felt before in his life. It wasn’t
because he feared dying. Lucius had taught him that there were worse things in life then dying for
your cause. It was the fear that he would fail and die, leaving Ginny all alone in a world that
would choke the life from her body. He wanted her to be free of the pain he had suffered since he
was born.

The only way to free her would be to leave her and fight out on the fields of death and
destruction. Leave her and be alone himself.

*With or without you*

Her eyes showed everything she was feeling. They were edged with despair, betrayal and some sort
of understanding. As always though he didn’t ask her what she was feeling. She meant more then
anything ever had before.

The sky was bluer.

The flowers brighter then they had ever been before, with the sweetness of their smell caressing
his senses.

Birds’ song filled his ears, making him smile even when he was alone in the silence.

Most of all though he was loved and nothing else would ever compare to the way he felt every
time she turned her gaze upon him. She might not speak many words, but he knew everything she was
feeling just by looking at her.

That night she had led him to bed with the same silence they usually adopted, but instead of
simply lying down and offering the space next to her; she stood in front of him. His heart had sped
up with anticipation. She was offering him something that he had only ever dreamed of. She was
offering herself to him.

Slowly she had shrugged away her shirt and pushed away his. Not wanting to rush her in any way,
Draco had remained still, only letting his eyes gaze at the body she had kept so well hidden from
him. Her lips though had been wanting and she had kissed his lips so gently, it made him wonder if
they were there at all. Her hands had clasped his and placed them on her body, where she wanted to
be touched.

The silent understanding had been reached and they fell in to bed in a flurry of repressed
passion and intense love. Tears stinging each others faces.

*I can’t live with or without you*

As the night swept through the weeping trees of the land, Draco had paid his old house a last
visit. He was cloaked in the darkness of the night, with only what he was wearing and his wand to
his name. Not a single light cut the night’s blackness and he assumed that it was either a
precaution or that everyone had left.

It had been rumoured that the Malfoy’s had fled to the North in an attempt to avoid questioning
by the Ministry. They had always been known for their allegiances to the darker forces of evil and
everyone knew it. It had been amazing how they had managed to survive all those years without
scandal. Then again, knowing the power he often felt, it wasn’t so surprising. They had had more
power then were good for them and because of it they had become greedy and heartless.

At the time Draco had considered them good features, and again he felt it was true. He was about
to betray his family name further and fight for a cause he didn’t completely agree with. All he
could console himself was that it was what Ginny believed. It was what she herself wanted to do,
but he had told her that she mustn’t join the fight. She had retorted that it was her own decision
in the end and Draco had lost control. He had gripped at her arms and shouted at her in desperation
that she wasn’t to go to war. The thought of losing her almost wrenched his heart out there and
then.

Guilt though had overwhelmed him. Never had he before even thought about laying an unwanted
finger on her. He had wanted to protect her though and as they say, sometimes you have to be cruel
to be kind. And when she silenced his anger with a shiver making kiss, he knew that he would never
know what her decision would be.

Walking round the back of the house, Draco looked to the stump of wood that had once stood great
and tall in all its knotted ugliness. Like his heart, the tree had been cut out and sent away for
the war effort and it made him want to cry. Never though would he let himself cry. It showed a
weakness that Draco feared even more then dying itself.

*And you give yourself away*

Blood. It seemed to be everywhere he looked. Splattered on the ground from where it had shot
from the arterial veins. Pooled around the bodies that littered the ground like rubbish tipped from
a bin. It was on his clothes. In his hair. All over his body, mixed with the mud and sweat from his
furious battle to remain alive. In his mouth, filling him with the vile coppery taste that only
meant death to him.

It had been six months since he had left the comfort of his small apartment with Ginny, for the
hell that was the war zone. A lot had happened and a lot had changed, yet Draco felt exactly the
same as he had when he was back in school. Cold and heartless with nothing to give but hate.

Looking out at the bodies scattered all around him, he could feel the powerful magic zinging
around in the air. It made him feel sick to the core and he spat to the side of him, trying to rid
himself of the thought of throwing up. He didn’t want to show weakness, even to a battlefield of
dead men and medical workers trying to salvage the ones that were still alive. Only just though, as
their bodies were scratched and broken. Blood seeped from them with each drop taking away another
moment of life.

*And you give yourself away*

Draco wanted to go out and help every single one of them, but his feet seemed to be frozen to
the spot. It was as if his head was the only part of him capable of anything. As if the darkness
had stolen his body away and all was left was the cold calculating brain that helped him survive.
That instinct was the strongest when you were under attack from hexes and demons. They came and
sucked the life from your body, leaving only the bones and skin of men and women who had once had a
life worth living for.

Sometimes he wondered what the point was for any of them surviving. All they had was the hope
that one day they might be able to leave the mud and filth of the trenches they lived in for
shelter from attack. That one day they may be able to leave the magical battlefield and sleep in
their own bed, with their loved ones.

War had killed sleep for the soldiers of those battles though.

*And you give, and you give*

Day in, day out, all that they saw was the never ending tunnel of hate, despair and darkness and
that was what they had to thrive on. They had to take all the hate that they had for each other and
use it to make them stronger. It was all they could do to keep going for as long as they did. The
battle might be won or lost but the war still kept going miles away in the comfier realms of life,
where men with too much power sat around with the lives of millions dancing in their palms.

Looking around himself, Draco took in again the scattered dead bodies that lay on the ground.
His eyes, though, couldn’t pick out the good and the evil between each man and woman. In death they
were all equal and in life that is the way it should have been, he considered. These people were
the lucky ones in his mind. They would never again have to face the darkness of Voldemort’s forces.
Never again would they have to watch the people they knew as good friends get knocked down by the
green transparent evil. Never again would they have to hide beneath a carcass, crying silently as
they tried to be undetected by the enemy. Never again would they be forced to throw someone else’s
dead body as a shield against a hex. Never would they have to kill people that were only doing what
they were told and then go back to camp to make some food, after washing the fresh blood off your
hands.

Finally they would be able to sleep an undisturbed sleep, where none of the darkness would be
able to take away their happiness, destroying all hope they ever had.

*And you give yourself away*

Someone tapped his shoulder, but he barely registered it at all. He was lost in his own world of
darkness that would forever haunt his body and his mind. Draco knew the true meaning of fear now
and it would never leave him in peace. The world might end, but still it was nothing compared to
living and seeing the consequences of actions.

They said that by stepping on an ant in the past could affect the future and now he understood
what that meant. The men who made the decisions about what should happen had it all planned out. It
worked in theory perfectly and their intentions were in the right place. If they had actually
watched some of the fighting thought and had to experience the full blast of war, then maybe they
wouldn’t play it all as if it were some game.

Lying just in front of him was the body of the late James Broon. He had been a simple man, who
enjoyed trench life as much as he possibly could. He had been enthusiastic, always making jokes and
trying to cheer up everyone. Sometimes it worked as well. Draco would hear the foreign laughs of
his men and would pray that if there was anything they would remember it would be that. Laughing
with their friends.

Now though this man who had given them such a great gift in times of need, was another number in
a book. His life wouldn’t be remembered by the important officials, but by his family and the men
he had helped so much in his own little way. They would of course put up a memorial, and upon it
would be his name, but to them it would be another name in a list of many.

Of course the people at home would feel deep sadness at the thought of these men dying to keep
them alive. Then they would go home though and life would go on as usual. For James Broon life
wouldn’t go on. His had been cut short by a flash of green light.

‘Captain…?’

Draco blinked, letting out the horrors of his own demons for a second. Turning slightly he was
confronted by a petite blonde woman. Her uniform was loose, telling him that she had been
unprepared for all the blood and vomit stains. Her hair was knotted back from her face and looked
like it had been done in a hurry. Strands kept falling in front of her face with the breeze,
irritating her eyes. Then it hit him. This small woman was crying, her eyes looking away from
him.

‘Yes?’ he managed to say through numbed lips.

‘Its time to leave now, before the cleansing operation begins. You need medical attention…’ she
tried to keep her voice calm and under control.

‘Do I…’

Draco hadn’t even noticed the pain that was throbbing through him, but now it became evident. He
had a nasty gash across his leg and his arm was hanging askew and limp away from his body. His own
blood stained the black robes he was wearing, making them darker then dark. Fingers made their way
up to his face, they were his but they felt so alien. More blood stained his fingers, never to be
washed away by soap and water.

That was when it happened. Leaning forward, he threw up everything he had left in his stomach
and collapsed at the feet of the young nurse, willing death to take him quickly from the world.

For sleep to finally come.

*My hands are tied, my body bruised
She got me with nothing to win
And nothing else to lose.*

Draco had lost religion since being in the war to end all wars. If a god did truly exist then
why was he in such pain? Why was the world slowly shrinking in the power of all the things this
supposed god was against? When the men went to pray at night, he had sneered in disgust at their
pathetic hope in something bigger and more powerful then themselves. Maybe if they had lived
knowing how much power they really did have, they wouldn’t all have been shot down by potent magic.
This god had not protected them, only they were able to do that.

Now though, he began to pray, but not to any god or idol. He prayed to death to take away the
constant hum that was echoing through the darkness of his mind. It was as if someone had come in
and switched off all the lights, leaving him the knowledge that only he would be able to find the
switch. Reaching out he couldn’t find a wall, leaving him with the endless walk to find one.

‘Open your eyes.’

So he did. The command had been to quiet, yet it had triggered something in the back of his
mind. His eyes darted about seeking the speaker, knowing that there was something familiar about
the soft subtle hints of sweetness. It jarred his senses making him think back to a time that had
almost been shrouded in the black of war. Suddenly he was filled with memories of bitter sweet
kisses mingled with the spicy red of his loves passion.

‘Virginia…’ he whispered into the light of this new room that seemed to have emerged around him,
from the raw battle ground.

When his eyes had fallen upon her, he couldn’t help the flutter of happiness that floated
through his numb body. That though was swiftly followed by the guilt that he shouldn’t be feeling
this. He should be feeling pain and anger for the deaths of all his men. He should be grieving for
all the good blood spilt.

‘Same old Draco. Sleeping far too long for any normal person, making me worry that you might
actually be dead.’

A smile almost cracked his lips.

‘Now now Virginia is that any way to treat the ill?’ he said in the croak of voice that he had
left.

‘Yes. They deserve it for worrying me for no reason at all.’ she whispered to him.

*And you give yourself away*

Finally he managed to make out a blurred shape of red, flesh and blue. He tried to focus and
eventually he could see her. Not much had changed about her general appearance in his eyes. She was
still as beautiful as she had been when he had left her. It might only have been six months, but it
had felt like lifetimes away form her embrace.

Her red hair, fell about her face in long waves, slightly longer then he remembered which showed
that she had done nothing with it since his fingers had last brushed through it. Again that seemed
lifetimes ago. Her eyes were still pools of deep ebony, which made him want to gaze into them
forever. That haunting pain though was more exaggerated then last time. She had obviously hurt over
the course of the war, and he could only hope that some of her hurt hadn’t been caused by him.

Slowly his eyes travelled down her tiny body, taking in all that she was and all that she had
been. Wanting to keep her fresh in his mind, if in case he was really dreaming. She still looked
like an angel but, her uniform was blue and he had a sinking feeling in his stomach. It made knots
with his emotions. He had never wanted her to see anything of what he had seen. He had wanted to
protect her fragile mind from the horror of death. He wanted her to be able to close her eyes and
not see the bodies littering the ground.

‘How long?’ he said sternly, wanting to know how much she had seen. How much he hadn’t been able
to protect her from.

‘Four months,’ she said in her usual soft voice, ‘I got tired of waiting for you.’

*And you give yourself away*

The words echoed round his mind in turbulent circles. Four months was a long time to be out in
the war as a nurse. What had she seen in those months? Why had he never seen her? Did she hide
herself away from him? Was there any love for him in her? How many soldiers had she saved? What
sort of bloodshed had she seen?

His mind was instantly drawn to the Battle of Glastonbury. It had been a place where music had
once rang out true and dancing had brought happiness to thousands of people through the ages. Now
though it stood abandoned except for the memorials and gravestones. Every Jane Doe and John Smith,
lingering in transparent greys around the nameless tombstones, wishing for a name to tell one from
the other.

It was difficult though. You couldn’t really tell the enemy from the men who had fought for the
cause. In any case it would have been wrong for all those people to go unburied.

His eyes went to hers and he tried to decipher her suffering from the hard quality of her eyes.
Nothing was on offer though and yet again Draco couldn’t help the frustration that made his blood
boil. Never had he opened up his own feelings and now he knew how it felt to be on the receiving
side.

‘You should never have waited. Either that or should have kept waiting.’ Draco whispered and
turned his head away from her. He didn’t want her to see him in the state he was in. If he went to
war tomorrow and died, he would die happy because he had seen her one more time, but he would also
not want to be remembered this way. Remembered as a stick thin man, with nothing left to his name
except the body he existed within.

‘Maybe if you hadn’t left me then I wouldn’t have had to come here.’

She was true, he knew it. He had let his foolish Malfoy pride convince him that he was bigger
then a war. Bigger then the evil hordes that plummeted down the hillsides, yelling their course
cry.

*And you give, and you give*

Ginny had moved to the bed now. The warmth of her skin, made him shudder with repressed
memories. She was sat to the side of his limp form, her fingers gently brushing the hair away from
his forehead. Her words soothing away everything he was trying to avoid thinking about.

‘I had to come out here. I had to help. Can’t you see that?’ she said in a deathly whisper. ‘I
couldn’t just sit at home while everything around me got sucked away into the black hole of this
war.’

There was a pause and Draco imagined her moistening her dry and cracked lips. It was agony being
this close to her and his body willed for him to react how he should be. He wanted to draw her into
his arms and never let go. That would destroy him though. Would he be able to go out there and numb
himself again? Could he shrug off her presence in the war? No. His eyes would be constantly
searching the dead bodies for hers. They would roam the expanses for any sign of her being
there.

‘It was ironic really. You would have laughed if you’d been there. Scolding me probably for
being so foolish as to believe what I read! Then again…you wouldn’t know the beginning of it, would
you?’ her voice was edged with some untold bitterness. ‘I should hate you. I should have hated you
even before we met.’

‘You should have.’ Draco retorted angrily.

‘There was a poster pinned to the door. The same door where I first met Draco and not Malfoy,’
she laughed dryly. ‘It said that healers were needed desperately on the battlefields. It said
something about saving the people you loved and me being silly Ginny as usual I took it as a
sign.’

Again there was the ear slitting sound of silence ricocheting of the walls of the small
room.

‘So I packed a bag and left that day. I left a note for mum, just in case she got worried and I
left. Can you believe how reckless I acted? Then again I’ve been more reckless before, haven’t I?’
she leaned forward and kissed his forehead tenderly. ‘I knew you’d need me eventually.’

‘You shouldn’t have come here. I told you not to come here.’ He said in a voice that was stone
cold.

‘And why did you do that Draco?’ Ginny turned his face to look at hers. ‘Maybe it’s because you
loved me.’

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. She knew how deeply he felt for her and he had never
made any move to hide it from her. Maybe that was his undoing. Maybe he should have never had
allowed her to get under his skin and turn everything upside down.

Draco grimaced. It was denial plain and clear. He would never regret one single moment of being
with Ginny.

‘I love you.’ he corrected softly.

‘I’ve done more good here then I would ever have done sat at home waiting for you to swallow
your pride and admit that all of this is too horrid a thing.’ Ginny persisted. ‘I have saved lives.
Made people happy even though they feel its wrong for them to breathe when others aren’t. For the
first time I have been noticed and appreciated, because no one has a preconception of me.’

*And you give yourself away.*

Draco had wanted to smile at the way she was talking. She seemed to be freeing herself slowly of
everything that he had never been able to unlock. Deep down though, there was a slow rhythmic ache
for the fact that he had failed her. His love had not been enough to let her bloom or to keep her
away from the war.

It had been the war though that had changed her perception of the world. When she spoke the
world listened and when she said life was precious it listened obeying.

‘For the first time I haven’t been shy little Ginny, who had a crush on the great Harry Potter.
The same Ginny who opened the Chamber of Secrets with her own foolishness to believe in words. I’ve
been truly happy among all this chaos, because I know that I can make a difference.’ Her fingers
were traced a scar upon his face idly and her eyes lingered on his eyes that refused to meet his.
‘I’m not invisible anymore.’

‘You were never invisible to me.’ His eyes finally allowed themselves to meet with hers and he
felt his heart thaw out.

‘When you came in, I was shocked. Finally I had found you among all chaos and I begged to be the
one to heal you. They finally let me and I healed every broken bone and bruise in your body.
Everything that is except this scar right here.’

He simply gazed at her. This was the first time she had ever really spoken to him, it would be
wrong to spoil the moment with mere words.

‘I hope you hate it. I hope you look in the mirror everyday and hate me for not healing it
over…for letting your perfect face have an imperfection. At least then I know you will never forget
me. For once your vanity will be my saviour.’ Again she leaned forward, only this time to place a
kiss on the scar that adorned his cheek.

‘I could never forget you, Virginia.’ He whispered hoarsely and mustered all his strength to
reach out and touch her face lightly.

It felt so smooth beneath his fingers, exactly the way he remembered it. He let them wander
round her face, taking in every curve and contour. Never did he want to forget this moment. He
would surely die before he saw her again, there was something about the way she was there that told
him that. Maybe this Virginia was a figment of his tormented mind. He would never know for sure
though.

‘I love you,’ she said in a soft breath.

*With or without you*

Pulling her closer, he had sealed the bond between them with a bitter sweet kiss. They might
never become anything more then lovers, but they had that small amount of time together. They might
never be married, with the family of strawberry blondes he had hoped for, but they still had the
memories.

They would also always have that bond. Nothing would ever compare to the way she made him feel.
It was a mixture of every emotion known to man along with the ones that made him feel like he was
on fire. It was difficult to explain, but whenever she was near, there was a storm. It had brought
them together and it would tear them apart all at the same time.

Outside the air was beginning to become weighed down with the weight of each rain drop. Each one
representing the tears of the planet at the way it was being slowly killed. Each suicidal drop
plummeting to its death upon the bodies, and the earth, and the tombstones, taking everything back
to the roots of life.

She had responded quickly and soon they were entangled in a passionate kiss. The desperation of
it, made it feel like the first and last kiss ever to been known to the human kind. It felt like
they were alone in their own bubble of forever. If there really was a god then they had been
allowed something that was more precious then life itself. Nothing might be fair in love or war
but, as they say, it was better to have loved and lost then to never have loved at all.

*With or without you*

The heat of her body seeped through to his cold bones as she crashed down on top of him in a mad
flurry. Neither of them wanted to pull away, just in case it turned out it was nothing more then a
lucid dream that would end. Breathing was ragged and Draco swore he could here the heart beat of
the world itself. Like his it was tortured with pain, but would always have something worth beating
for.

Finally, when it seemed all the air had been sucked from the room, he pulled back. ‘Promise me
you’ll cry for me,’ he said roughly, as he gripped her arms.

‘I promise,’ she muttered leaning forward and pressing another kiss to his lips.

‘Promise me,’ he paused to kiss her, ‘that you will be happy, whatever you might think has
happened.’

‘I promise.’ Another hurried kiss filled with passion.

It felt so right for them to be there. The room might have been small, cramped and painted a
vile colour of yellow, but it was the perfect setting for lovers to reconcile. After all, if it
worked the way Draco hoped, the walls would soon be coloured with the sound of Ginny’s cries or
bliss. It was the way it should have been right from the start.

*I can't live*

‘Promise me that you’ll forgive me for whatever I have done.’ His fingers tugged at the thin
material of her uniform.

‘Never you obstinate pig,’ she said between kisses. ‘Now get a move on!’

And so it happened. The world kept turning as yet again Draco dragged her beneath him and
allowed himself to take her drugging body in. He would never regret it. Never. Not for as long as
he lived. For as long as he lived.

*With or without you*

Darkness swept upon England and Draco Malfoy moved alone among the boxes that crammed the small
attic room. This was the way it was supposed to be, he considered as he gazed down at the unopened
box. Him alone as he deserved. They did say that everything you did would come back upon you in
double doses and that was exactly what he deserved. He was sure. Almost.

It had been two years since the end had finally come. Like the others he had cheered at the news
that no longer would they have to fight. Voldemort had finally been torn down by none other then
Ron Weasley himself. Shocking as the news was to him, he couldn’t help but smile at the fact he had
done something Potter had spent his whole life trying to do.

Of course the price of this victory made it all seem worthless. Ron Weasley had died that night
as he had fought Voldemort with his friend Hermione Granger. They had been lovers with nothing and
everything to lose. It had been a chance of fate that it had been them to stumble upon the gap in
defence. Draco himself had been fighting that night, and he had sworn, as he always did, that it
would be his final stand.

Thousands died, thousands were left injured permanently, and the rest would never forget
anything that they had seen. Dreams would be haunted, lives would be affected and they would all
have to go back to the normal world.

What was normal though? Draco often pondered this as he sat in his lonely room. Was normal the
way things had been before they had even started this? He was pretty sure that that would never be
possible. For one thing, he was a changed man. Not only physically but mentally too.

That’s why it seemed so unfair that his life was the misery that it was. It made sense though.
For the beginning of his life he had been nothing but a bastard to the people around him. He had
pushed away everything that had ever meant anything to him. His mother and father had brought him
up to be that way though. They had instilled the fear of…he considered it. What had it been that
had made him scared enough to do things he hated?

None of that mattered now though. All he knew was that life would have to go on. It didn’t mean
he would have to live though.

*With or without you*

*With or without you*

Sitting down, he reclined into his chair and scratched the stubble that was there. Every night
was the same. He would come up to the small attic room and sit thinking about everything that had
happened. Everything that might have been, if only he hadn’t left. Everything that could have
happened. Everything that should of happened.

Sometimes he allowed himself to drown his sorrows, let himself indulge in self pity. Other times
he would merely sit and cry, because that was the only thing he had to give to a life he wished
for. Then the rest of the time, he would merely continue to go on as he did every waking
moment.

Anger now seemed too much for his fragile figure. His emotion was lacking in everything. No one
seemed to be able to reach past the exterior of pain he held. They would never be able to
understand, so why let them try to? Why let a complete stranger try and uncomplicated his life? He
didn’t want that. It would mean moving on, and that would be more then he could handle.

Opening the box that lay in front of him, he removed a slim book and opened it upon his knee.
From the pages beamed a happy face. A face that was imprinted so vividly in his mind, he felt he
could reach out and touch it. It was always that little bit out of his reach though. Pain and loss
was all he could use to describe what it felt to have something to perfect in his mind, and not be
able to make it real enough to touch. He would move heaven and earth just to let his skin brush
hers.

Ginny would have been proud of Ron. She would have cried for her loss, but she would have been
proud all the same. He imagined her cursing his name for being such an idiot. “Only he would have
the dumb Weasley luck of dying and saving us all at the same time!” he imagined her saying as she
swept about the small house.

That was how he always imagined her. Spinning and turning round the house, as she tried to make
it as perfect as she wished. Always reaching to be that little bit better then her mother. Always
expecting Draco not to even notice all her hard work. He always did though, even if it was all in
his own mind. When he was most alone, he would swear he could hear her humming. Ginny only ever did
that when she thought he wouldn’t be able to hear her.

Sometimes he would run himself ragged searching the house to locate her scent. Always though, he
would never find it. She would never be there, with an apologetic smile, telling him everything he
wanted to know – she had got lost. Hadn’t been able to find her way back to him. She was sorry for
making him wait for her for so long. That it would never happen again. She loved him and always
would.

It never happened though. Every time his eyes stung with tears as he stood at the front door and
peered out. Ginny wasn’t going to come back to him. He knew that in his head, and yet he refused to
believe it. If she was dead, then why did it feel like she was just about to enter the room all the
time? Why was he able to hear her…sense her being all around him?

*I can’t live*

Some people said that it was just grief playing on his mind. That he might never get over it,
but the pain would numb. Draco had merely nodded, but inside he had laughed sadistically. If only
they could tell that to his dreams! Then maybe he might be able to let go of the ghost that danced
in his head. It paid no heed though, and still every night he would dream of a life he would never
have.

Her death had not been widely known, as her brothers had been. In fact probably no one except
the family and friends knew of it. There would never be memorials to all the hard work she had
done. There would never be nationwide sorrow for her death. She had passed away like a ghost. He
snorted at the double meaning as he gazed at Virginia waving coyly in the picture.

There had been no official certificate, or indeed body, to say that she was dead. Draco had
nowhere to visit to grieve her loss. She had been lost within a battle, and when the end of it had
finally come, she had been nowhere. The bodies had been buried accordingly, the ones with identity
where named and taken home. The rest though were so many, that it was impossible to name every
single one.

Simply put, she was missing. The family had sought her out for a few years, but eventually had
given up hope. Draco himself had sent out every contact he could find. He would find himself
walking to her favourite places and searching for a flash of red. It was never to be seen though.
Hope dried out and it was eventually announced that Virginia Weasley, aged 21, had died in duty.
She would be remembered by all she had ever helped.

Draco couldn’t accept it. He would never accept it.

And so his life ticked on to no avail. Contemplation of ending it all had crossed his mind. Just
to aim the gun, or plunge the knife, but what if she turned up. She would never forgive him for
suicide. It would hurt her, more then he would ever know. The last thing he wanted to do was crush
the most precious thing to him.

Instead he waited and everyday he would look in the mirror. And everyday the scar would still be
there. It made him cry. It made him ache. It felt like only seconds ago that she had kissed it. She
was right, forever he would hate it and in turn he would never be able to forget her.

The night drew on as a broken man, plagued by war and a love lost, cried himself to sleep in his
own bubble of time. Life would never play a more ironic tune bitterer than nor as sweet as the
lament did it play for him alone. For that was what he would forever be. Alone with nothing but a
ghost to keep him alive.

*With or without you*

*With or without you*



