Unofficial Portkey Archive

a/n: I was working up at a week-long Christian camp for Jr Highers and the speaker mentioned the famous 'Love Is' portion in 1st Corinthians 13, and later that day, I was struck with this idea. I suppose that's entirely odd, but this came about anyways. I thought it would be interesting to have D/G work out despite Draco's being the complete antithesis of love.

dedications: To Crystal and Kristina, for displaying love, despite miles and wires between us.

disclaimer: HP = not mine. The Bible = not mine. This disclaimer = officially the weirdest one on the net.

1st Corinthians 13:4-7
Love is patient, love is kind and is not jealous; love does not brag and is not arrogant, does not act unbecomingly; it does not seek its own, is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong suffered, does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Ginny Weasley didn't know what had happened. She had fallen in love. It wasn't too conventional of a love story, aside from the fact that it was forbidden. Some may think that to be terribly exciting and adventuresome, but Ginny thought it was all very draining. If one thought about it logically, it was draining because Draco Malfoy was anything but lovable.

Well, there's the heart of the problem, as it were. Draco Malfoy. She had fallen in love with Malfoy. It wouldn't be such a problem if he wasn't such an utter prig. And perhaps, it wouldn't be such a problem if he didn't hate her family, and she his. And perhaps, if the whole ordeal weren't forbidden in the first place.

But of course, where's the adventure in that?

Love is not as general as everyone assumes it to be. It's not the air we breathe, that's oxygen. Love is more like that shade of blue the sky gets on warm summer days, when you look up and the trees are outlined in its brilliance. It's there - but not everyone takes as much note of it as they should, and most everyone just doesn't understand how it can be so breathtaking. Love isn't what makes the world go round, that has a bit to do with gravity and even Muggles have figured that out. Love is more like the warm puffs of breeze that rustle by in the fall, past faces and faces, only being noticed by a select few who keep their hearts open. Love isn't a warm tingly feeling in your stomach, that's adrenalin. Love is more like the sharp sensation when you inhale on bitterly cold winter mornings, that feels like ice ripping into your nasal passages. It's sharper and more unwieldy than most would like to admit. And love isn't the sound of the ocean in a seashell, that's the circulation of blood in your ears. Love is more like the tickle of a Spring flower against your nose when you're smelling it. It's subtle and often shadowed by the lustful scent of romance.

Love is… different.

Patient

"Honestly, how long does it take you to do your hair anyways? It's not as if it does any good, it's always looking frumpled-" Draco was complaining.

Ginny flung the door of his private bathroom open and glared at him. "I wasn't doing my hair," she growled at him, "I was trying to make it look as though I wasn't raped."

"I really prefer the term ravished, since it was so obviously consensual," Draco said stuffily, looking at a magical clock impatiently.

Ginny flushed, and grabbed his invisibility cloak off his desk. "Shut up," she said brusquely, "the point is that it wasn't as though I was wasting time."

Draco grabbed her wrist as she tried to fling the cloak around her shoulders and instead pulled her against his chest. "No," he said sharply, "the point was that I don't like waiting, but most of all I don't like the fact that every moment you spend rebuttoning your shirt and smoothing out your hair I could have spent further ravishing you."

That's where it had started, she supposed. The fact that he was so unlovable and yet managed to weave a bit of sentimentality into his comebacks was overwhelming.

Kind

"You fat oaf, don't you ever do anything right?!" Draco exclaimed, giving Vincent Crabbe a might shove into the snow. "I told you everything that any idiot could possibly need to know in order to pull this off, and what happens? You fail because you forgot what Longbottom looked like?!"

"Honest, it wasn't his fault entirely," said Gregory Goyle, fidgeting with his Slytherin scarf nervously. "Longbottom's a very nondescript sort of person, you know, one you could easily forget."

Draco turned, seething, to scowl at his other goon. "You shut up," he snapped, "I'm sick of having to put up with the both of you. I ask one task out of you two, simply knock out the Longbottom boy, and you can't even accomplish that."

"Really, now, Malfoy, getting a bit rusty on the authority front?" said Ron Weasley sneeringly from beside Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. They were standing a bit aways with Neville Longbottom and Ginny, and had overheard his scolding.

Draco swiveled around, the glare he always reserved for the trio plastered over his handsome, pale face. "I don't really think it's any of your interest, Weasley, as you wouldn't know anything about it - always following Potter around like a lovesick puppy."

Ginny could see Ron's hands clenching into fists, but Harry and Hermione each grabbed a fistful of his jacket to assure he wouldn't attack.

"Or maybe -" continued Draco, his sneer melting smoothly into a smirk, "-you're following him around, hoping to pick up any loose change may happen to fall from his pockets. Or for that matter," he goaded, "any loose women." With this he sent a meaningful sneer at Hermione, and turned and stormed away, his expensive cloak billowing behind him.

Ginny could see that the red in his cheeks was not from the cold, but from hatred.

Is Not Jealous

"I'm so glad you agreed to go out with me, Ginger," Dean Thomas said cheerfully, calling her by his pet name of invention. "We work out splendid, don't we?" He asked, nudging her as they walked through Hogsmeade.

"Er, yes," said Ginny palely, looking around guiltily.

"Ginger," he said very seriously, coming to a stop.

Ginny heard his steps in the snow stop crunching, and she whirled around to look at him with a puzzled expression. "Yes?" She inquired.

"Ginger, I…" Dean paused, and looked around, spotting a bench near them. He galloped towards it and leapt atop it. "Ginny Weasley, I-" he paused again, clearing his throat.

"Ginny Weasley, I love you!" He declared loudly, and the students which had been walking by all turned to look, some even stopping and staring.

"You… you what?" Ginny asked, in horror.

"You what?" snapped a harsh voice from nearby.

Both Ginny and Dean turned to see Draco stopped in the middle of the street, glaring daggers at them both. His silvery eyes had melted into angry, dark, storm-cloud grey, and Ginny thought they felt like teeth tearing at her flesh.

She gave him a very scandalized look, and turned to give Dean a look of complete humiliation.

"Er, Dean, perhaps we ought to go somewhere a bit more private-" she said quietly, but Draco brushed past her and stood beneath Dean, his eyes like steel, his jaw clenched.

"You love her, do you?" he asked rudely.

Draco Malfoy was perhaps the only person who could manage to still look down his nose at you while staring up from below you.

"Yes, I do," said Dean angrily, hopping down and stepping away from the Slytherin, slinging an arm around Ginny. "Though it's none of your business," he added.

"I don't imagine you would think so, no," said Draco coolly, "and in fact I don't think it is either. But I can't imagine what makes you think the whole bloody world would want to know you're in love with this ragdoll."

Ginny blinked back tears and pulled away from Dean to step closer to Draco, a look of choked up anger painted across her face.

"Go to hell," she hissed.

Draco ignored her, and instead continued to glare at Dean. "How do you even know if she loves you back? How do you even know if she's faithful to you?"

Suddenly Ginny felt nauseous, because she knew what he meant. She didn't love Dean. She wasn't being faithful to him.

Ginny choked back a sob.

"Of course she loves me! And how dare you-" Dean had begun to chastise Draco, but stopped when he heard Ginny's muffled cry.

"Ginger, don't cry, come on, let's go get a butterbeer, this was supposed to be a special day!" He said, rushing to grasp her by her arms.

"I'm fine. But, I… I have to -I promised my brothers I would visit their shop," she said hurriedly, watching as Draco melted into the shadows of an alley broodily. "I-I promised."

"So I'll meet you at the Three Broomsticks, then?" queried Dean, worriedly.

"Yeah," she said, "it'll help me cheer me up, you know?" She added.

"Okay," he said warily, looking clearly relieved to see that Draco had left.

He gave her a halfhearted pat on the arm and left her alone.

She rushed into the alley, crashing into Draco, who tightly took hold of her arms and held her against him, leaning down and glaring at her.

"You're mine," he growled, selfishly, planting a forceful kiss against her mouth.

She drew back, breathing heavily, tears still streaming over her cheeks. She nodded, and threw her arms about him.

It was at this point that they stopped trying to keep up appearances.

Does Not Brag

"Tsk tsk," clucked a very disapproving Lavender Brown, looking at Ginny. "I'll never understand girls like you. Girls who've all the opportunities in the world and throw them away. I mean really, it's not as though you could do any better than Dean Thomas. Have you heard what they're saying about you, now? That you were two-timing him? I feel bad for the bloke, honest, but I feel even worse for you. What are you going to do about that reputation? And Dean Thomas, for God's sake, the best bed in the whole school-"

"Really, I doubt that-" Ginny began to protest, embarrassed, glancing around the library nervously.

"As do I," said Draco, sneering at Lavender from beside a bookcase.

Lavender wrinkled her nose and gave him a death glare. "I hardly think you've any authority on the matter," she said stuffily.

"No?" asked Draco, putting away the thick book he had been poring over, and fluidly sitting at their table. "I hardly think you've ever slept with me, and thusly have no authority over whether or not I've any authority."

Lavender, slightly confused, rolled her eyes and attempted to ignore him.

"Anyway, Ginny, I can't believe you dumped him, truly. Parvati had him once, said he was marvelous."

"Stop it," protested Ginny, very embarrassed now. "It doesn't matter to me. Things just weren't working out."

"Did you ever do it with him?" Lavender prodded skeptically.

Draco turned to watch Ginny's reaction, suddenly rapt with attention.

"No," blurted out a blushing Ginny, "no, I never did it with him, God, stop it, Lavender, this is hardly the place or company-"

Lavender tossed her blonde hair over her shoulder with a smug sort of satisfaction. "The library is the perfect place for such discussion, really, the books probably enjoy listening in on it. It's always so quiet, perfect for secrets. And as for the company," she looked over at Draco with a grimace of disgust here, "I'm sure it's nothing they can't handle."

"You're right of course," said Draco, "I can handle far more than you ever could."

Lavender blushed lightly and pushed her chair back, standing. "Well, I'm off then, Ginny. Try not to kill him too mercifully, eh?" With this and a scowl in Draco's direction, she flounced out of the library.

Draco leaned back in his chair with a coy smile.

"What are you smiling about?" Ginny inquired, though she was sure she had an idea.

"Can you imagine that she actually thinks Dean Thomas is the best screw in the school?" He wondered aloud, putting on a pseudo-thoughtful look.

"Shut up," she said, turning a very dark shade of pink.

"Really, Weasley," he said, leaning down over the table, "do you think that's the truth of the matter?"

"Don't call me Weasley, you know I hate it," she protested, narrowing her eyes. "And shut up."

With a wicked smile he leaned in even closer, so that his cool breath fluttered against her face when he spoke. "Surely she's heard of better? I'd imagine Pansy would have spread something about."

Ginny rolled her eyes at this. "Yes, really, Draco, because Pansy and Lavender are such close friends, right?" She snapped, sarcastically.

He sniggered. "No, I suppose they're not. But let's see… I'm sure someone else would have something to say," he said into her ear, nipping at the lobe before he pulled away.

Ginny's face was almost purple now, and she gave a growl of annoyance, crossing her arms. "Your head is entirely too big," she hissed.

"You flatter me," he said crisply, leaving.

Is Not Arrogant

"Oh, for God's sake, shut up," Hermione said with a pule.

Draco snarled at her. "If this school had any sense in it, you wouldn't even be here, filthy-"

"If this school had any sense it wouldn't let you be enrolled, you prig," said Harry, stepping closer to Hermione's side, Ron doing the same on her other side. Ginny watched from a foot or two beside them.

"I shouldn't even have to put up with the likes of you," Draco growled, trying to ignore Harry's goad, focusing on insulting Hermione instead. "You're lower than the dirt on my boots," he spat.

"You arrogant bastard!" Ron shouted, throwing a wild punch that Draco easily stepped out of the way of.

"Don't lay a hand on me," Draco whispered, seething.

"He's not even worth it, honest," said Ginny, pulling Ron back by his coat.

Draco's eyes turned to her in a flashing array of metallic emotion.

He stormed away, as he usually did.

Does Not Act Unbecomingly

"Why did you say that?" Draco said, in bed, his grey eyes glinting.

"Say what?" Ginny asked, nonchalantly, as she tugged on her sweater.

"That I wasn't even worth fighting." He said quietly.

Ginny's head snapped around towards him, searching his steely face. "Why should it matter? I said it so Ron wouldn't beat the snot out of you."

"It's not true!" He suddenly yelled, pink rising in his cheeks.

"What is the matter with you?" She wondered aloud, starting to get out of bed.

Draco grabbed her upper arm suddenly and pulled her violently back into the bed. With a vice like grip on her, he held her near him.

"I am worth fighting. I can hold my own against your oaf of a brother any day. Why did you have to belittle me like that? Who are you to say what's worthy-"

He stopped, pushing her away now, and getting out of bed himself.

Ginny stared at him, as he pulled on his crisp, charcoal trousers. "What was I supposed to say? Defend you? Support you?"

Draco said absolutely nothing, buttoning his pants and now slipping into his thin undershirt.

"If I had-" she paused, searching his face, "-If I had tried to defend you, we both know what would have happened. You know, what you'd said about… unnecessary attention."

He turned to her, a muscle in his jaw clenched, his entire body clearly tense.

"It just wouldn't be… prudent," she said, "don't look so scandalized."

He gave a sigh, turned around, and shattered his mirror with a taught fist.

Does Not Seek Its Own

"Oi! Malfoy!"

Draco didn't turn around, even though he knew that it was Ginny. Ginny persisted - she knew he knew it was her.

"Malfoy!" She screeched, chasing after him. He was heading towards the Quidditch pitch, and was in his uniform and carrying his broomstick.

"My name is Draco, surely you know that." He said, finally turning around.

"Surely," she said dryly, coming to a stop in front of him, looking up at him from beneath amber lashes.

"What do you want?" He barked, and Ginny saw his eyes flitting around them to see if anybody was watching.

"I'm sorry," she said in a hoarse whisper, suddenly uncomfortable.

"Oh, is that what this is about?" He goaded, noticing two Slytherins very far away and putting on a face of condescendence.

Ginny turned and noted them as well, before turning back to him and continuing. "Yes," she said quietly, "it is. I'm sorry I can't be a normal lover for you, and I'm sorry that our social standings are so different that we can never be real together, and I'm sorry that this charade must last until the end."

Draco stared down at her silently.

A pale eyebrow lifted and a smirk fluttered across his lips. "You've missed the sex, haven't you?"

Ginny violently rolled her eyes, and turned around in exasperation. "Oh, for fuck's sake, your ego never ends, does it?"

"I'm afraid not, Weasley," he said, licking his teeth so that she gave a shriek of impatience. "So just be honest, then," he continued, "you've missed me."

"No!" She hollered, and she saw with pleasure that for a moment, Draco's eyes flickered nervously above her head to check the Slytherins across the field. But they soon returned to her form, bruising like cold metal.

"Have you missed the way I touched you?" He asked, dropping his voice to a very low level. Shivers danced down her spine as he leaned closer.

"Oh, for God's sake," she complained, moving her head to the side so she couldn't meet his eyes. "Get your head out of your arse for a moment and face reality."

"Ginevra," he hissed, "I just want you to face reality and express that you deeply missed my presence over the past few weeks."

"Shut up," she complained, looking nervously at the small crowd heading towards them, still yet out of hearing distance.

"Just say it," he said, jabbing his broom at her.

"No," she whined, looking the other way, now.

He used the tip of his broom to pull her chin up and towards him, so that her brown eyes stared into his own. "Say it," he said warningly, "or I'll announce it for you to these kids," he gestured at the group of third years approaching.

"I've missed you," she admitted, barely audible.

Draco smiled.

Is Not Provoked

"So tell us, Malfoy, does your mother like it much, now that your dad's in prison? Or does she miss the weekly beatings?" Harry taunted.

"Fuck you," Draco snarled.

Ginny was walking around the corner when she saw it, and had paused, shrinking back as her breath caught in her throat.

"No, really, I'm just curious," said Harry viciously, "how does life work now that your dear old dad is on permanent holiday? Who tortures the house elves while he's away? Who keeps inventory of all your Dark Arts stuff? Really, I just want to know."

Draco punched him. He tore his wand from his hand and threw it across the hall, and it clattered and skipped across the flagstone.

Draco punched him, again, and again, and again. He threw fist after fist into Harry's stomach, pummeling him until his knuckles could no longer make an accurate hit.

And so then he stood over Harry's bent over form and kicked him, once, in the head, so that his glasses went askew, and he had to sink to the ground. And then Draco left, and swore he would never acknowledge his existence ever again.

And Harry, as he wiped blood from his nose, swore the same.

Ginny felt a tear tracing down to her jawline, and then ran after Draco, ignoring the puzzled look Harry gave her.

Does Not Take into Account a Wrong Suffered

"Why did you do that?" she wailed.

"I'm sick of him, I'm sick of all of them," he shouted, grimacing.

"Harry didn't mean it, I'm sure, I'm sure he was just angry is all."

Draco whirled around and stared at her in shock. "He didn't mean it? Well, fuck, that's too bad, because I sure meant what I did."

"Can't you just forget it?" Ginny asked, wringing her hands nervously. "Forget what he's done to you before, and just… just keep him off your radar?"

"You don't understand," he said deploringly, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"I do too! You've obviously forgotten that you're talking to Ginny Weasley over here," she shrieked, "number one person to be excluded from every little conversation they have! You think I don't feel I've been wronged by them before? You think I don't like it that Harry's never given me the time of fucking day? Do you honestly believe you're the only one who thinks he's not exactly a Greek god?"

Draco looked at her in irritation, his nostrils flaring. "Stop being right all the bloody time," he growled.

Does Not Rejoice in Unrighteousness

"Son of a bitch-" Ron moaned, holding the Urgent Edition of the Daily Prophet in his hand.

Ginny leaned over his shoulder and read the article, and then immediately looked across the Grand Hall. The Slytherin table was in a rare silence, each student who had a parent imprisoned looking almost sick. Draco was at the center of the crowd, his eyes frozen to the paper.

His eyes began to glimmer and then his head popped up and he met her gaze.

Draco had the dignity to hold back his smile when he saw her forlorn face. But then he returned his eyes to the paper and laughed with the rest of his housemates.

But Rejoices With the Truth

"You don't understand," Draco said to her later, beneath a shady tree, the paper still tightly clenched in his hand. "You don't understand what this means. No more of Potter's gloating. They'll all get what was coming for them. My father is coming home, Ginny," he said, his cheeks flushed.

Suddenly a handsome eagle owl swooped down to alight on a branch above them, and extended a foot regally. Draco jumped to his feet and clumsily ripped the scroll off, sitting down very quickly.

"What is it?" Ginny asked, looking over his shoulder.

"It's a list of the escapees," he said, licking his lips and scanning the paper once, twice, three times.

His face began to fall.

"I don't believe it," he muttered.

"What is it?" She asked, grabbing the paper from his clutches.

"He's not on it. He's not-he's not out. He's still in Azkaban," he said, putting his forehead in his hands.

"What?" Ginny breathed, looking over the list for herself. He had read correctly. Lucius had not escaped from Azkaban. "Lucius Malfoy, the suspected instigator, was found still curled in his cell. After questioning, it turned out that Mr. Malfoy had no idea there had even been a break. He hadn't been informed," she read aloud.

"Not even fucking informed," Draco echoed, his eyes dark. "That goddamn You-Know-Who didn't even fucking tell him that there was going to be a break. My father was always kissing his boots, and the bastard doesn't even help him out of jail!"

Draco clambered up off the grass and kicked the tree, sending little pieces of bark fluttering through the air.

"Stupid son of a bitch!" he cursed.

"Isn't it slightly better this way?" Ginny wondered, very quietly.

"NO!" He screamed, and then paused. "Why would it be better?" he hissed.

Ginny looked away, sensing he was in a foul mood. "I don't know," she admitted, "but when we-when we started this, you thought it would only work because your father was in jail."

He whirled away from her, laughing. "You're so fucking selfish!" he said, amazed. "Is that all you care about? What about me? I want my dad back!" He screamed.

She suddenly filled with regret. He was partially correct. She was being selfish. She wanted Draco for herself. It was at this point that she realized that she may have been falling in love with him.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, throwing her arms around his middle, burying her face in his back. "You're right," she said, "you need a father, just like everyone else. You-Know-Who should have helped him out."

She felt a slight illness sweep through her as she realized that she was acting selfish and now conceding to his thought processes because his character had rubbed off on her. Bad company corrupted good habits, she thought miserably, as she realized that love had clouded her opinions and morals.

But she didn't take any of her words back, and for the rest of the evening she clung to him, whispering words of comfort into his soft hair.

Bears All Things

Later, Ginny wished she could have eaten her words.

Lucius Malfoy escaped from prison on his own, the papers said. And Draco was ecstatic.

He hadn't heard from him yet, of course, but it would only be a matter of time.

And Ginny felt miserable. She wasn't miserable because she had wished for a killer to be set free, but she was miserable because Draco's happiness made her happy. It wasn't supposed to work that way, she reasoned. She was supposed to be disgusted with the news, like her brother. Maybe even slightly frightened, like some of the younger students. He had, after all, once tried to use her in a ruthless scheme.

He had, after all, been the reason she had been possessed.

But Draco was smiling.

It was a horrible smile. Draco should never smile - the smirk or the sneer much better suited his pale, pointy face, and when he smirks he at least looks handsome. But when he smiles it's all teeth, like a shark about to devour you. He looks maniacal.

But it warmed her heart.

And it was this thought that made her miserable.

But his happiness was short lived.

That's what the papers proclaimed. Narcissa Malfoy had been murdered in her spring cottage. They had found the Dark Mark hovering over it in France, and moments later had found the body.

Why the dark lord would want to murder a loyal henchman's wife was beyond Ginny. But not Draco, who could hardly bear the news.

He sat in a windowsill in a far, dark, dusty corner of the library, and his face was screwed up an attempt to hold back bitter tears.

"He-" Draco started, and then stopped immediately, as a tear rushed over his cheek.

"He visited me last night," he said a moment later, after he had let himself cry for a bit. "My father."

"What did he say?" Ginny asked quietly, standing beside him.

"He wanted me to come with him," Draco muttered. "And I asked if he was going back to Him."

Ginny watched his eyes, cloudy and tumultuous.

"And I asked him if he hadn't heard the news then. That they'd killed Mother. And He told me I had no mother. He told me that he had disobeyed his master," he said this derisively, bitterly, "and that You-Know-Who had been 'merciful' enough to only ask for such a small price to pay for it."

Ginny's breath caught in her throat, as Draco crumpled, his shoulders shaking.

"I can't take it any longer," he said miserably, and it tore at her heart, "I can't take any of it. I'm sick of it. All of it. I want my mother back," he hissed, "and no one can give her back. So I don't want any of them. No fucking Death Eaters, and no fucking Order of the goddamn Pheonix. They've all got their heads up their arses, they're all so bloody wrapped up in their petty battles that they're always ruining everything they touch."

"That's not the way the Order works," Ginny said quietly, "we're different."

"Oh really?" Draco said angrily, "So you're telling me that there's no problems in their midst? That all of your relationships are always sugar and candy canes and big, fluffy clouds?"

Ginny swallowed quickly. It wasn't true, of course. They were all humans, they all had their problems. The trio, who most thought were perfect, had the most problems of all. There was always a new disagreement between Ron and Hermione, and most recently she had rejected his declaration of love. Ron wouldn't tell Ginny the details, but it appeared that Hermione was in love with someone else. Ginny would bet all of her savings it was Harry. And there was always tension with Harry - Harry who was so much like everyone else that some would excuse his normal breakdowns because he was the hero. But the only thing Harry wanted was to be treated normally. He wanted people to not take his breakdowns. He wanted to be corrected.

The adults all had their own personal flaws, and Ginny herself had a plate full of emotions. Here she was, seeing the son of a direct enemy to the Order. Here she was, hopelessly in love with him. And the worst part was that they didn't notice. They didn't know what she was doing, and they didn't care enough to notice all of her absences. That was a problem.

"No," she said to Draco, "our lives are ruined also. But we do it for the greater good."

"You don't think," said Draco, laughing, "that the Death Eaters don't believe in the greater good also? And that they think the same way? Do you not realize that it's the same thing, just with the ideals reversed? They just feel that your Order is the bad guy?"

"It's not my Order," she said stubbornly, and Draco's face softened slightly.

"The Death Eaters aren't mine, either," he said, wiping at his red-rimmed eyes. "I don't want to be associated with any part of this war."

"You what?" she echoed, looking puzzled.

"I don't want to take part in it. I'm sick of it. I'm sick of conflict. I'm leaving. I'm going to-I'm going to live in the rain," he said, looking out the window at the storm.

"Don't be silly, you can't just step out of it all," Ginny said, dumbfounded.

"Actually," he said, "I can. My father would've disowned me if he could - which he can't, since he was disowned with his imprisonment-but the point is, he doesn't believe he has a son now. And well, I have no mother any longer. So I can choose as I like to. And I choose nothing. I choose absolutely nothing."

"You can't choose nothing, you've got to choose something or else it isn't choosing." Ginny corrected.

"Fine, then I don't choose. I abstain. Is that better?"

"Draco-" she said, and he cut her off with a searing kiss.

"Maybe one day you'll join me?" he said quietly, hopefully, "when it's all over, and when you realize there's always a choice of not choosing."

With this he left, having broken from not being able to bear a thing.

Believes All Things, Hopes All Things

Ginny didn't even speak to him for most of the year. He wouldn't acknowledge her presence as long as she was still supporting the Order with the rest of them.

Ginny knew she should have forgotten everything. But she didn't know what had happened.

She had fallen in love.

And Draco, who had chosen not to choose at all, didn't believe in anything or hope for anything any more. He didn't even read the papers any longer. He focused on his schoolwork, throwing himself into it entirely.

From what she heard - because it wasn't as if she paid attention to him - he had surpassed Hermione's grades. And Hermione was so caught up in other affairs that she didn't care. And Draco didn't seem to care either. He did everything with a sort of effortless grace.

That is not to say that Draco had completely changed. From what she had heard - he was still Draco. Still cold and snippish. Perhaps even a little bittered by his experiences.

And those chance times when their eyes would meet, his eyes would warm.

That was where he had changed. Now he was the one who missed her. But as soon as the spark would appear, it would fade again, and cold Draco Malfoy would continue on his way to his next class, or to his common room, and Ginny Weasley would watch in awe.

Endures All Things

She supposed that, yes, Draco Malfoy was the antithesis of all that love was supposed to be. Except for one.

Love endures all things. And Draco Malfoy's love for her had managed to endure as well.

It was nearing the end of her sixth year - his seventh - when You-Know-Who was finally defeated by the Boy Who Lived.

So the Boy Who Lived lived yet again, and You-Know-Who and his followers perished.

"When you think about it, Voldemort had a bit of the same legacy, in the Death Eaters' eyes. Potter being the Boy Who Lived, I mean. Voldemort had always come out alive before, also. So it was He Who Lived versus He Who Also Happened to Live. It's just another point on the line of parallels." Draco said to Ginny very abruptly, as she read the red, flashing paper.

She stood up, knocking the chair she had been sitting in over, and whirled around to face him. "You-"

Draco kissed her forcefully, and she threw her arms around his neck.

"I'm on time, aren't? The war is over, then? I guessed by the red papers and all of rejoicing. I'm right, aren't I?" he asked, that shark grin plastered across his face.

"You are," Ginny breathed in response, the red, flashing Daily Prophet abandoned on the floor.

She put her arms around him again, and it didn't even occur to her that they were in a public place - the library.

"Malfoy! Ginger! What's going on-" Dean Thomas exclaimed, coming to a shocked halt next to them.

"Piss off, Thomas," snarled Draco, putting a tight, possessive hand on Ginny's arm. Her heart swelled at the sound of Draco's familiar, scalding tone.

Ginny pulled away from Draco's chest to give Dean a soft, reassuring smile. "It's fine," she said, "I'm with Draco now."

"You're-" Dean stuttered. "With-but your brother-and your family-and his-and the war-"

"The war is over," said Ginny.

"Yes, but-"

"I wasn't even involved in the war," said Draco absently, tugging at one of Ginny's red curls.

"But-your father-"

"Obviously," said Ginny warningly, "you don't keep up to date on all current events. Now kindly piss off as Draco suggested."

Dean shook his head sadly. "You're going to regret this, Ginger," he said.

With this he left them, and Ginny watched him go with a faintly sad feeling in her stomach. What if she did regret it?

Draco nipped at her ear. "I don't know about you," he said loftily, "but I don't believe in regret."

And it was enough for Ginny, who kissed him.