Rating: PG
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Draco & Ginny
Book: Draco & Ginny, Books 1 - 5
Published: 01/03/2004
Last Updated: 01/03/2004
Status: Completed
Draco watches Ginny sleep and muses about why he loves the color red...
The Color Red
Nighttime was the time for sleep, and dreams, and the gentle breathing of your lover lying in bed
next to you. You watch her sleep, feeling no inkling of fatigue yourself.
"I'm tired," you had told her only a few hours ago as you climbed in bed.
She had just smiled at you, kissed you and turned off the light as she crawled into bed next to
you. But now, as she slumbers peacefully only a few inches from you, you feel not so tired after
all. Her red hair is splayed around her head on the pillow like a halo of fire. You want to reach
out and run your fingers through it; you have already memorized the way that it feels, but you
can't seem to keep your hands away from it, even when she is awake. However, not wanting to
wake her, you restrain yourself.
You know that you love her hair because looking at it's vibrant color, running your fingers
through it, makes you feel alive; the color red to you symbolizes burning anger and passion…and now
love, and all things that are good in the world, everything full of life. But you know that her
hair is vibrant and alive, because she is so alive. And you want to crawl inside her and
stay there forever, because no one has ever made you feel the way that she does.
Growing up in a huge Manor, things were always boring and polite and cold, and never alive. There
was never anything in your home that was red. Your father had called it the color of the cowardly
Gryffindors; your mother had just called it tacky. So you sneered at the color red, because it was
Gryffindor, and it was tacky.
But now, now the color red is your favorite color, just like everything about her is your favorite
thing. You love sunsets not because of their beauty, but because she loves them. You love long
talks about nothing, not because you like to spill your soul, but because she does. You love the
color red because it's the color of her hair. Red is the color that stains her cheeks after you
compliment her, or after a particularly passionate kiss.
Red is also the color that stains her cheeks when she becomes angry with you. You think she looks
adorable when she's pointing her wand at you, threatening your life, her face almost as red as
her tresses…but of course you would never tell her this.
You love the rest of the Weasley clan, not because you are a rebel who wants his father's
ill-wishes, but because she loves them. They may not feel the same way about you, but who the hell
cares? Besides, they all have that red hair…
You are interrupted from your musings about the color red by a small hand, reaching for yours. You
look fondly upon your wife, to find her hand seeking yours in her sleep. You move yours closer, and
hers instinctively clasps yours, twining your fingers together.
The sun is rising, bringing with it a new day. The wedding band on Ginny Malfoy's slender
finger glints softly in the dappled, early morning light that is pouring through the curtains
hanging from your bedroom window. She is stirring now, beginning to wake.
She looks up at you, sitting there, holding her hand, through sleepy, half-closed eyes. She smiles,
and yawns. She crawls over to you, closing the mere inches that separated you, and you enfold her
in your arms.
"Good morning, love," you whisper softly into her ear. "Sleep well?"
She just nods and yawns again, causing her cascade of hair to move about her face. And then you
can't help yourself anymore, and you twine your fingers in it, kissing the top of her head
delicately. For a minute you feel like telling her that you stayed up the whole night, just
watching her sleep, watching the rise and fall of her chest, and hearing her soft sighs as she
dreamt.
But you would rather keep that secret to yourself for now.
Oh, God, how you love the color red...