Authors Notes: Just a story of what I hope is a pretty realistic version of what Draco and Ginny would be like under the stress of war.
They passed each other in the halls. Secrets burned in their eyes. Light brushes of the hand, unnoticeable to anyone else. Sharing private glances, feeling too much space between them. But something like them needed to be hidden from the world at times like these. Times of war. Voldemort was on the rampage and people were suffering from it everywhere. There was no room for young love, romance; in the life filled with death and sorrow they were now all forced to live.
But school went on in much the same way, despite the anguish of the outside world. Sheltered by Hogwarts' great stonewalls, the students and residents of the castle seldom felt the terror of war looming above their heads. But there were the students that slowly began to disappear home, everyone knowing despite the secrecy, that there had been another attack.
And there were the differences. Such as Dumbledore's eyes, that lacked their twinkle. Like The Boy Who Lived, now walking the halls in what seemed like a trance. Like Hagrids mysterious absence. But these things were simply pushed to the back of the mind, like they always are.
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She had been outside after the second Quidditch match of the year. It had been Hufflepuff vs. Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff had won. She had lain in the bleachers, letting the clean October rain soak her skin for over an hour. The person who had been watching, waiting for an empty Quidditch Pitch, had begun to get very impatient. When she had shown no sign of leaving after another fifteen minutes, he had emerged from behind the stands, broom in hand, and approached her.
"Trying to drown yourself, Weasley?" he had asked her snidely. And she had not replied or moved at all. Wondering for a moment if she had died or passed out, he had shaken her shoulder and called her name. She had smiled and kindly told him to bugger off. And he had. That had been the beginning.
Over the next month, he had found her odd habit of lying in the rain for long periods of time. When there was rain, the littlest Weasley was outside. Whether by the Quidditch Pitch, the lake, or anywhere else didn't matter. He had, however, found her favorite place to be in a small alcove by the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. She would just lie there, by herself, for hours. He supposed she used warming charms, as she never seemed to be sick. He wondered about her. His mind seemed to stray to the sixteen year old with her dark red hair often.
One day he had sat beside her. They had not spoken, or even acknowledged on another. This continued for the next few days, until she had asked him why he came out here and found her. He had stared off in the distance, and said that he had picked up her terrible habit. Because of her, he had said, he was going to be sick all winter. Conversation began there. They began by talking about the rain. Why did she like it? It made her feel clean. Why did he? He didn't know. Then they spoke of school, and then hobbies. Likes and dislikes. She adored ice cream. He did too. He had a chocolate fetish, and she secretly loved sugar quills. He hated fish. She loved running. He had a passion for fencing. She was terrified of birds, and he, true to his house, liked snakes the best. Long conversations about books were common. They talked about sports, his drawings, her singing. They both played piano.
She began to speak of her family. Her problems with her mother and Ron, her worries about her father, how she missed Charlie and Bill. She told him about her childhood, and in turn, he had told her about his tutors, his friends before Hogwarts, the time Goyle had thrown up all over Pansy's new dress when they had been five years old. He discovered he liked to make her laugh, had a knack for it really, and found himself telling her lots of stories. He didn't notice that he was revealing to her many things, like the absence of his parents in these funny tales. Or how he had had a house elf who had taught him to cook. These little things between them developed into a type of friendship, a trust between them that they both valued highly.
It was the day he had first spoken of his father that they had found more interesting things to do than talk.
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She came to his rooms crying one day. Half his shirt had been damp with her tears before he coaxed the story from her. Percy had been killed in an attack, and Ron refused to talk to her or anyone. She wasn't going home, she told him. Her parents needed them to stay at Hogwarts; the chance of attack on any of the Weasley family was too high. She had clamed up after mentioning the Order. He had asked her about it before, and she hadn't said a word. Sides of the war were a touchy subject between them. No matter how many times he said he wouldn't become a Death Eater, she never seemed to believe him. She would never open up to him about anything concerning the war, and as they became closer, that barrier became thicker and larger. He had let it go that time, she didn't need a fight.
She left the next morning feeling a bit better.
At breakfast, Draco received a letter from the family owl. He was expected home for Spring Break. They wouldn't give him the Dark Mark while he was still in school, that would be stupid, but he was sure it had to do with his 'training'. He didn't know what to tell Ginny, but this wasn't something he could just say no to.
After classes, he went to Dumbledore and handed him the letter without saying a word. Draco was advised by the Headmaster himself, the return letter said, to stay at school and uphold his Head Boy duties. He never told Ginny, no need to get her upset with his problems as well.
Things began to go downhill. They had been lying in their favorite spot by the forest together, when they had had a rather nasty run-in with The Weasel King. Ron had punched Draco, and Ginny had screamed at Ron. Ron had called her a whore, and they had fought. They had really fought. And they didn't speak to each other after that for over a month. Because of this, Draco and Ginny's relationship began to deteriorate. They saw each other less and less. Draco had dreams of her every night, and couldn't understand why she was pulling away from him. He didn't want to push her. And before he knew it, it was the night of his Graduation, and Ginny wasn't even speaking to him.
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She came to the Graduation Party after the ceremony, giggling on Finnegan's arm. He had been furious, and followed her outside. She told him it just wouldn't work between them. She wouldn't go against her family for him, she said. And she knew he wouldn't abandon his life for her.
"I won't let you do this, Gin! What about us? We had something and your throwing it away! I've never felt like this before for anyone, and I'll be damned if I'll let you leave just like that!"
He had kissed her roughly, trying desperately to keep her close to him, to capture her and never let her go. But she had pulled away.
"If you leave now you've lost me." He whispered, cradling her head gently. "I can only beg once, Ginevra."
She had walked away, silent tears streaming down her cheeks.
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Harry Potter battled with the Dark Lord a week later. They had both died in the struggle. It had been their wands, Dumbledore had announced on the WWN afterwards. The
Priori Incantatem spell had backfired under such strain. Potter had truly been an exceptional wizard; apparently, as he had matched old Voldie in strength until their wands had killed them. Those who had just got out of Hogwarts were never really involved in the war. It wasn't very large scale, Death Eaters were killed, surrendered or had cleverly disappeared. There was a memorial stone erected in Diagon Alley in commemoration of those who had died.
Life began to go back to normal. By the time Ginny had left school, people had stepped into their old, familiar routines once again. He had waited at Kings Cross for her. He had remained unseen, watching the girl he wished he had told that he loved her.
As he got off the bench to leave, she caught his gaze. He should have known she would know him anywhere. She had smiled softly, and he had looked at her with a resigned expression, one of someone who knows they are a victim of unrequited love.
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Little did he know that Ginny Weasley had spent the entire year trying to get over him and had failed miserably. She thought of writing to him several times after the war was over. It was quite a shock that what everyone had expected to take years had been over so quickly. Voldemort was just another Dark Lord for Professor Bins to drone on about now. Ginny, though, knew that Tom had just rushed into things. She thanked Merlin that he had not had time to recover his full strength.
But now there was much less of a reason to not be with him, Draco. He had taken over his father's company after Lucius had been killed. He had gained respect and success at an absurdly young age, as it is with inheritances. Yet, it was his whispered, pained words to her that last night that stopped her from throwing herself at him embarrassingly.
"If you leave now you've lost me."
It rang in her head now. No. She couldn't go back.
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Months later, Ginny sat at a café, drinking her coffee. She saw a flash of blond through the corner of her eye and looked up. And there he was, Draco Malfoy, staring right at her from over his mug. She smiled sadly, and was surprised when he smiled back. Then someone sat in the table between them, and the moment was lost.
The next day a black owl delivered a letter to her new flat.
Love that is forever,
Will never fade away.
But the love that we share now,
Was not meant for today.
Maybe later, years down the road,
You'll smile at me again.
And maybe we'll end up
Together in the end.
But for now I'll think of you,
And I'll let you fly,
Because Love that is forever,
Will never, ever die.
She smiled. She knew what he meant.
Authors Notes: I originally planned to end it here, but I have continiued it. I'm not the type to say REVIEW OR DIE, but they are definatly something I look forward to reading.
Thanks,
Wrong-Turn24