Lost moments

Mileya

Rating: PG13
Genres: Angst, Romance
Relationships: Draco & Ginny
Book: Draco & Ginny, Books 1 - 5
Published: 28/01/2005
Last Updated: 28/01/2005
Status: Completed

"And kisses him as if trying to recover all the moments they have lost and all the moments they have yet to lose." Draco’s old personality surfaces again. And Ginny suffers. ONE - SHOT

1. Chapter 1

Lost moments

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own Ginny nor (unfortunately) Draco. Both belong to JKR; I only have stolen them for a while since she does not treat them very well. Jo, accept it... we love Draco XD.

I’m only writing for fun and of course I’m not making money of this. No copyright infringement intended.

RATING: PG-13, mainly for some language

PAIRING: Draco/Ginny.

CATEGORY: Angst, angst, angst. And a little bit of romance.

ARCHIVE: Of course, but please, ask first. I’d like to know where my baby is going.

FEEDBACK: Yes, please! I live for feedback XD

SPOILERS: This story takes place in Draco’s seventh year and Ginny’s sixth, although there are not really spoilers for the books.

SUMMARY: “And suddenly everything makes sense. Everything that had happened to them has led to this moment”

Draco’s old personality surfaces again. And Ginny suffers. ONE - SHOT

AUTHOR NOTES: Well... at the beginning, this was going to be a short ficlet, only one or two pages. It ended up having six; I know it’s not too much, but it’s certainly much more I had thought when I started writing. This is dedicated to the people of La Pareja del Fénix Forum and, specially, to Sara, Mane, Lidia and Flor and to the members of the Draco/Ginny club. Fire & Ice Forever!!!

And a little warning before you start reading. English is not my mother tongue; this is a translation of a fic I wrote in Spanish a month ago, so forgive me if there are some mistakes.

Enough talking! Here you have it, I really, really hope you enjoy.

Lost moments
by Mileya

His nonchalance hurts her.

It is worse, infinitely worse than at the beginning, when he insulted her family. Because back then what flowed through his veins was a poisonous hatred, an inexplicable need to make her suffer constantly. But now, there is nothing. He doesn’t speak to her. Nor looks at her. Nor touches her with one of those forbidden caresses they exchanged when they met casually in the corridors.

He hasn’t given her an explanation as to why he has decided to end everything with one stroke. She only knows he went to her one afternoon in the library and said five words which shattered her heart to pieces.

- It has to end now.

And that was all. He went out of the library, out of her life, without giving her a reason, a motive. He left her broken and didn’t even seem to care. She tried for him to tell her why he was doing that; why he had suddenly decided he didn’t want her next to him. But she didn’t get an explanation. Draco avoided her easily and was never in the same place as her, so Ginny only saw him at lunch time. Sometimes, not even then.

She had hoped things could be sorted out, and had clung to this hope the same way a castaway would have clung to their saviour plank. But then something had happened that had destroyed all her illusions.

She was walking with Neville towards the Great Hall. Her friend was commenting on something she wasn’t really listening to, and answered him with a smile and a slight nod of her head. Then they had turned the corner and had seen them.

Draco Malfoy leaned on the wall, talking to Crabbe and Goyle. He had his arms crossed above his chest and a lock of his blond hair fell through his forehead. As in a dream, Ginny suddenly remembered all the times she had moved back that same lock, and felt a sharp pain in her heart which made her stop because she didn’t seem able to breathe properly.

Neville also stopped and turned back to her.

- Are you OK, Ginny? – He asked in a low voice.

The conversation between the Slytherins stopped. Draco turned his head slowly and glared at them, with his eternal sneer on his lips. Ginny breathed deeply and took Neville by his robe.

- Please, let’s go.

He looked at her with a puzzled expression, but said nothing. They started walking again, but found someone blocking the aisle. Ginny looked up and found herself looking at him in the eye for the first time in nearly three weeks.

- I’m glad to see you, Longbottom – Draco said finally, after looking at her for some moments with true ice in his grey eyes – I’ve got something for you.

Then he took something out of his pocket and gave it to Neville, with a funny expression in his eyes. Her friend looked at it for a moment, as fearing so much cordiality, and finally took it. In the same moment Neville saw what it was he blushed furiously and his hand trembled violently. Ginny looked at the piece of paper her friend had in his hand and all the colour drained from her face, feeling as if someone had taken out all the air in her lungs.

It was the photo of Neville’s parents that the boy had been searching that same morning. Initially, it was of a very young Frank and Alice Longbottom, seating comfortably in one couch of the Common Room and waving happily their hands. But someone had modified it. The faces of the couple were discoloured and disfigured beyond recognition, with their eyes sunk in their skulls. Their hands moved grotesquely, as if they belonged to a marionette instead to human beings, and were covered of worms from head to toe.

For a moment Ginny felt totally ill, but immediately an ardent wrath as she had never known took control of her body. She took a step forward and, before she could even think on what she was doing, slapped Draco soundly on his left cheek.

- You’re a son of a bitch – she hissed, with poison in each one of her words.

Before he could react, Ginny turned back to Neville and took the photo out of his hands, then told him:

- Forget him. He’s not worth it.


Days go by.

Slow. Heavy. As if someone had activated an invisible handle in the clock of time and had made hours last more than sixty minutes. Ginny goes from class to class, plays Quidditch, does her homework, and talks to her friends as if Earth had not stopped moving for her. In a methodical and efficient way. As if she was a robot and couldn’t feel what she’s doing, or saying. And, mostly, she isn’t.

Since the fatal day of her encounter with Draco, she hasn’t talked to him a single time. Sometimes she sees him occasionally in the distance, and sometimes their eyes meet. But she looks away. She can’t stand looking into his eyes and seeing the kind of man he has become.

Ginny wants to hate him for everything he has done to her, to the ones she loves. Wants it so badly that sometimes she doesn’t know if someday she’ll stop wishing that. But she can’t. Because she thinks that there’s still some humanity in him, behind that mask of cruelty and absolute scorn towards everything. Because she needs to know, needs to hear it from his own lips.

So, on one of the last evenings of January, Ginny climbs down the stairs towards the Potions dungeon. She knows that Snape has taken Draco as his assistant and probably will find him there at this hour, so she decides to make good use of what will be the last time she’ll talk to him to ask for answers.

It’s cold in the corridor which leads to the class. Ginny walks slowly, without being able to avoid feeling a certain fear at the sight of the closed door. When she comes before it, she breathes deeply, closing her eyes for an instant; opens them almost immediately and, trying to feign a bravery she doesn’t really feel, pushes the door and enters the classroom.

At first Ginny does not see him, but then a noise in the back of the room attracts her attention. Draco goes out Snape's ingredients storage with a couple of flasks in his hand. Closes the door after him and looks up. Then sees her.

Neither of them says a single thing. They stare at each other fixedly; cold determination in Ginny’s brown eyes, surprise mixed with something more in Draco’s grey ones. Finally after a moment which seems to have lengthened indescribably, Draco moves. Puts in a nearby table the flask he was carrying and leans on the edge.

- I never thought the littlest Weasel would travel down to hell on her own accord.

She doesn’t even flinch.

- Sometimes it isn’t necessary to travel too far to find it.

Draco’s laugh, totally mirthless, takes her by surprise. She remains stoically in her place, without moving, while sees him standing and going where she is, stopping near her. Too near.

- So tell me, Ginevra... To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?

Ginny ignores the obvious sarcasm that his voice reveals at saying the word pleasure and lifts the chin in challenge, looking at him straight in the eye.

- I want to know.

- Welcome to the wonderful world of knowledge quest, Weasley – he answers ironically, crossing his arms over his chest – I’m sorry to say I think you’re in the wrong place. Have you tried an encyclopaedia?

- Stop trying to be funny, Draco; it doesn’t work with me – Ginny tries to ignore the beat her heart skips at hearing her surname coming from his lips in such a cold way – I want explanations. I want you to tell me the reason of that... monstrosity you and your friends made to Neville.

During a few moments he says nothing, only looks at her with an elevated eyebrow and a funny expression, drumming the fingers of his left hand on his arm. Finally moves and approaches Ginny, until the space between them is almost inexistent.

- There’s something you must understand, Ginevra – says with a falsely sweet voice – Who once was a monster will always be a monster. You cannot change that fact.

Ginny presses strongly her eyelids for a moment, and tries to ignore the distress she’s feeling, that’s making her feel the urge to cry. She tries to ignore his nearness, which hurts her so much as a million daggers cutting her skin and spilling her blood in the cold floor. Finally opens her eyes and looks at him.

- I believe in changes – says finally, never in her life having felt so tired and defeated as in that same moment – I believed in you. Apparently, I’ve never been so wrong.

- Excuse me – Draco’s voice is hard. His grey eyes have never reminded her so much of storm clouds, and she can’t avoid to tremble slightly under his gaze – I don’t remember having made some kind of promise to you, so I don’t know why you feel disappointed.

- We, human beings, have the habit of getting disappointed when something we have fought to save ends up a failure – her voice trembles. “No, please,” she thinks desperately, “I can’t cry in front of him” – But of course I can’t hope you understand something about humanity. That concept is not for you.

- Then maybe you should go with someone capable of understanding that concept better than me – Draco hisses, in a voice as cold as ice – And leave me alone. It’s about bloody time.

Draco turns her back to her and starts walking away. But Ginny cannot consent it, she doesn’t want things to end up this way, so takes a step forward and takes hold of the sleeve of his robe. The fabric moves back, leaving his forearm exposed.

And suddenly, she freezes, her gaze fixed on the arm where, almost as an insult to the pale and delicate skin, appears a skull with an ugly snake coming out of its mouth. Almost without realizing, Ginny frees him and steps back, horrified. Draco is so still he looks like a statue. His face is a perfect mask of nothingness, but his eyes reflect more emotions Ginny have ever seen in them, though one stands above everything else: relief.

Draco is glad she has found out.

The revelation turns to be so shocking that during a few instants all Ginny can do is look at him with wide eyes while he, without saying a single word, covers again the Dark Mark with the sleeve of his robe. Then turns back completely and looks at her. For some seconds, silence wraps around them. But this time it’s not an uncomfortable silence. It’s more like those quiet moments they used to share when sitting down together at the edge of the lake, with the breeze as the only background sound.

Ginny feels a painful twinge in her heart at the memory and, only after a long time, she manages to find her voice, although her thoughts and feelings are completely confused and don’t seem to be very logical in this moment.

- Why didn’t you tell me?

- It was the best I could do - he murmurs, any track of wrath missing in his voice.

- The best for whom, Draco?

- The best for you, for me – he answers - For everybody, actually.

- Could you explain who do you think you are to make my decisions? Or anyone else’s?

- Who do I think I am? – His lips curve on a half smile lacking on humour – I’m a Death Eater who will probably die very soon. Is my motive good enough?

- What the hell are you saying? – The voice goes out of her mouth much weaker she could’ve thought and feels her throat go completely dry.

He glares at her.

- Tomorrow, at lunch time, Dumbledore will announce that he has knowledge of an assault against Hogwarts, and everybody will be removed from the school – his speech is monotone, emotionless – In the assault, there will take part Death Eaters, giants, dementors, werewolves and all kind of creatures at the service of the Dark Lord. Because of the Mark in my arm, the same one the attackers are marked with, I’m expected to join them – his grey gaze seems to go through her – What do you think will happen to me when they see I’m not doing it?

- Draco… - Ginny starts saying, feeling a knot in her throat – It doesn’t have to happen that way. You can leave with everybody else.

- And where would I go? – In an almost unconscious gesture, he raises his left hand and caresses slightly her cheek – Now, my place is here. With Dumbledore, with the Aurors. With the Order. The time has come for me to stop feeling continuous self–pity. War affects us all, and this time, I don’t want to cross my arms and do nothing.

Ginny closes her eyes. She doesn’t even realize that a traitorous tear escapes from her eyes. Just for once she doesn’t care to seem weak in front of him. Without realizing, almost without thinking about it, she takes a step forward and hugs Draco. And when she buries her face in his robe’s plaits, when she breathes his scent, when she feels Draco’s arms surrounding her waist and hugging with the same force she is hugging him, everything makes sense. Everything that had happened to them has led to this moment.

- Then I’m staying with you – she murmurs, her voice suffocated by the expensive fabric of his robe.

Draco’s hands, which up to this moment had been doing senseless drawings on her back, stop suddenly. He tilts his head back and looks at her straight in the eye.

- Your place is not with me, Ginny.

But when Ginny hears her name coming out of his lips, when she feels the chill that runs through her body with such a simple word, she knows it is not true. Fixes her brown eyes in his face and smiles, the first true smile in days.

- Maybe it was true… long ago. But not now – with a tremulous finger she caresses the familiar contour of his lips – Not now.

- Damn it, Ginny – Draco says softly – You are too stubborn.

And suddenly his lips are on hers, covering them in a hungry kiss. Searching, demanding, tasting. The hands in her waist, the blond hair touching her face, his skin under her fingers. Ginny kisses him almost desperately, as if trying to recover all the moments they have lost and all the moments they have yet to lose. And feels that, whatever happens, they will face it. Together.


The Great Hall is plunged in darkness. Silent corridors. Empty classes.

Ginny looks around her and sees many serious faces. Sad. Worried. But above all proud. And decided.

She takes a step forward and takes hold of his hand. Draco turns slightly towards her, the ghost of a smile in his lips. Then presses her hand firmly and takes it to his mouth, depositing an almost non-existent kiss in her knuckles.

She smiles and looks ahead, without letting him go. A light breeze starts blowing, disordering her hair and bringing pictures of sacrifices to do, of loss, of pain. But also there’s hope.

Because there’s always tomorrow.

THE END

So well, here it is.

I want to thank specially Sara (our wonderful and talented Anasazi) for helping me with this translation, even though I think she’ll never forgive me for what Draco did to Neville (Sara, dear… you and I know Draco is a bad boy… sexy as hell, of course, but a bad boy. One day I will compensate you, I promise).

Hope you all liked it, and please, let me know your opinions. I’m quite new at this and I need to know if I can continue writing or I should spend my time doing other things.

Thanks in advance!