Through out this whole confession of love, telling of mistakes made and love being expressed, Draco had stood off to the side and in the dark.
When he first heard Harry tell Hermione that he loved her, he'd waited to see her reaction. He thought that she would do the usual "I'm flattered but I don't feel the same way" routine, or do what he did "here's a sickle, get an owl and tell someone who cares".
He wasn't expect a kiss that was…well lets put it this way, made him want to cringe because it was Harry Potter doing most of the kissing.
He waited for the slap, which never came.
He waited for her to run away, she didn't.
Draco waited until it was too late; he waited until most definitely his heart was being stepped on by the girl who'd been an angel of mercy to him during the school year.
After he'd heard her say the words he longed to hear, he stormed out through the portrait door.
The flowers he'd intended for her still clenched in his hand.
He walked erratically through the corridors, just trying to get as far away as he could.
He walked all the way out to the lake to the tree where he'd sat with Hermione during a time that seemed ages ago.
Draco remembered her encouraging and comforting presence and words. That made it all the worse.
Draco thought furiously, `I hate her so much!'
`How can you plan to tell her you love her one moment and hate her, the next?' the logical part of his mind asked.
`I can hate her because she led me on, pretended that she liked me then goes off with Potter,' the emotional part of his mind answered back.
`She did like you, you're a good friend, and she never did or said anything to insinuate that it might be more,'
`It just hurts so much,' Draco thought as he drew his knees up to his chest and rested his arms on them.
He realized then that he was still hanging on to the bouquet for her; angrily he pitched them to the side so they landed beside the tree out of sight.
Draco picked up a few rocks beside him and started throwing them at the lake, all the while trying to calm down how he was feeling.
`I didn't really love her, I just thought I did'
`You must be joking, you used to look up every time someone walked into the room incase it was her'
As Draco sat he was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't hear someone approaching.
././././.
"Harry I love you so much,"
"I can't imagine there being anyone else but you," Harry replied back as they now sat together on the couch looking back and forth between the fire and each other's eyes.
Hermione sighed and leaned her head against Harry's shoulder, content.
Until a thought crossed her mind, `If Harry was that convinced that I loved Draco, what if Draco thought the same thing too?!'
Hermione was horrified at this thought.
Harry felt her tense up beside him, "Hermione tell me."
"It's just that you seemed to gather a lot of evidence that I liked Draco, what if he thought the same thing too? I didn't want to hurt him," Hermione choked on this last sentence.
"Shh," Harry comforted her, giving her a kiss on the head, "If Malfoy did like you don't you think he would have said something sooner? All those types are the take charge, do things my way, say what's on your mind, kind of people."
Hermione raised her head up and looked at Harry, she tried to scowl at him but was finding it hard, "Harry for the last time, Draco isn't like that he's changed, and if you don't keep those kinds of remarks to yourself well…I don't know what I'll do but it won't be pleasant."
"Sorry," Harry mumbled weakly, "I can't say I'm jealous of him, its just that well he's the only other person I can see you with, and I've lost so much…" he trailed off.
"Harry I'm not even going to address that remark because you know it's bullshit," Hermione chided, then seeing the shocked look on Harry's face she laughed and kissed him before resting her head against his shoulder again.
"I think that if there's a problem with Draco he'll come and say something to me. Why cause a conflict that won't exist unless I do something. Right now I want to be with my Harry."
"Couldn't agree with you more."
././././.
"Do you still want these?"
Draco raised his head and saw himself face to face with one of the last people he'd ever want to see, especially at this moment.
Ginny Weasly was holding on to his bouquet, smiling timidly at him.
`Funny, I thought dark red-ish purple roses would clash horribly with that hair, it actually makes it look auburn,' Draco randomly thought before remembering who it was and scowling, "Pity you're so poor Weasly that you have to get things that are thrown away," he then turned his head back out towards the lake.
"Pity that you either can't appreciate them or you were rejected by the person you were offering them too," Ginny snapped.
Draco snapped his head to the side and upwards to look at her, "Shut up about what you don't understand."
"Just forget about the stupid flowers then," Ginny said exasperated before dropping them.
As she was dropping them the wind picked up and scattered the flowers, some fell into the water, others were mangled. There were only a few left in mint condition.
"Stupid Weasly can't do a bloody thing without wreaking it," Draco muttered.
Draco sighed and started to go back to feeling sorry for himself; he leaned his head back against the tree and closed his eyes.
When he heard a noise from the other side of the tree.
Curious Draco got up, and shadowing the tree, peered around the other side to see what it was.
It was Ginny, she looked like she was writing or drawing in a little book, humming softly to herself.
He was about to roll his eyes and sit down when she tilted her head to the side and he saw that one of his roses was tucked behind her ear.
It looked more beautiful in the waves of her hair then thrown in a heap, as he had left it.
Draco decided to leave it be and turned around.
"She hurt you a lot, but don't think that she did it on purpose,"
Draco froze, "You're talking to me? I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yes I am addressing you and I'm friends with Hermione and I watched both of you," Ginny said without looking up, "You want someone to talk to, I'll listen... I know what it's like to have someone devote their attention to you, care about you, and then stab you in the back," she turned her head and looked up at him.
Draco could have sworn there were tears clinging to her eyelashes.
She continued, "But I'm well past things like that, see," and she indicated to the little journal book she had been writing in.
"No I don't see, you wrote down what you felt?" Draco said as he sat down next to her.
Ginny smiled, "I did write down what I felt but I was getting at something that only a handful of people know about, something about my first year."
Draco only nodded, he would have asked her what she meant but he was a little too distracted with his own problems.
"Tell me, I know how you cared for her, maybe loved her, and would you like me to write down what you say so you can see it for yourself afterwards?" Ginny offered.
Draco shook his head, "You don't have to write it down. After I tell you I'm moving on from it forever."
He closed his eyes, swallowed and told about how Hermione almost gave him a new life. How everything she did was imprinted in his soul, he told how he was going to give her the flowers, confess, then about how he'd seen Harry Potter get to her first.
"He gets everything! But everyone can't help but pity him, or love him or want to give him more, I don't understand it!" Draco said sounding exasperated.
"It does seem that way, but I think it would do everyone some good to remember Harry isn't the only orphan out there. People just want to show him the love that he never thought he would have, or even deserved to have," Ginny said, speaking for the first time after she'd told Draco to tell his story.
`She is a good listener, and she was right about telling someone else you're problems instead of trying to sort them out on your own,' Draco thought as Ginny finished her sentence.
Draco nodded to acknowledge he'd heard what she said, then decided to look at Ginny Weasly.
No correction, just look at the girl across from him.
He'd take away the name that he'd been trained to look down upon, it's association with poverty.
He was left with a girl whose, once ginger red, hair had darkened a few shades to the colour of autumn leaves, which curled slightly at the ends. Pale skin that looked as smooth as it was creamy white, and then lightly dusted with peppery freckles on her nose. But what would capture your attention were brown eyes fringed in lashes that seemed to convey such an unusual combination of innocence but wisdom.
She was different; most girls would shy away from scrutiny. Instead she stared back deeply into his silver blue eyes, almost challenging him.
"So do you think you've sorted out everything?" Ginny asked.
"Not by a long shot…but you know what?" Draco said.
"What?"
"When I think about it I don't love her the way Potter does, he loves her fully and completely, I just loved the idea of having a savoir, I mean Hermione is a great person and I maybe do like her a little more than a friend, but loving? I don't even know what love is, I've never experienced it." Draco confessed to Ginny.
Ginny nodded, "I thought it was something similar to that, don't feel too sad though."
They sat together in silence before Ginny asked, "Are you going to tell her?"
"I think it's best to let the sleeping dog lie," Draco replied.
"Do you care to explain your use of the dead cliché?"
"I think I won't bring up, what good would it do? Talking to you has resolved a lot of speculations and questions I've had," Draco turned and smiled at her.
Ginny flushed, then mumbled, "I'm glad I could help," she looked down and started to gather her things, "I better go…"
She'd gotten up; when she felt a hand grasp her wrist, "Just stay a little longer?"
Ginny smiled she couldn't refuse the pleading look he had.
"Ok just for a little while," she sat down and leaned her head back against the tree, she felt him shift closer so they were arm to arm, "Malfoy don't you dare go on the rebound with me." Ginny said with a laugh.
"Wouldn't dream of it Weasly," said Draco as he smirked and tugged a curl.
Ginny closed her eyes and leaned against Draco's shoulder, "You're awfully nice for a ferret."
"You're a not so bad yourself, for a weasel."
-->