Author's Note: Thanks for the kind reviews. After this chapter, two more are already written - hopefully by the time those are posted, Chapter 10 will be done. (Keep your fingers crossed; it's been a long time coming.) Anyway, thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy the chapter.
***
The late autumn sun felt good on his face, and Draco thought the air smelled a little sweeter than it had the day before. He wasn't ready to admit to enjoying the sound of birds chirping, and he hadn't helped any elderly witches cross the street, but altogether, things were looking up a little.
He wondered how long it had taken Ginny to find the shoes. His expression turned smug as he remembered delivering the box. It was a risky decision to Apparate to her flat. He'd checked to make sure she still lived there, of course, but he'd had no way of knowing whether her wards were set to allow him entrance.
But they were. Of course they were.
He'd meant to leave the box and go, but standing in the middle of her living room, surrounded by her things, he felt close to her. He couldn't bring himself to leave, or to care whether she might find him there. She would know, soon enough, that he had come.
He let his eyes wander around the room, taking in familiar details and cataloguing changes. He stepped over to the mantel and examined the pictures she had on display. A group shot showed her with her family, but hers was the only face he could fix on. There was one of her with Granger and Potter, an arm around each of them, her smile brighter than sunlight. It nearly hurt to look at her, she was so lovely.
There were no pictures of her with Potter alone. He might have guessed as much after reading her letter, but it was something different to see it for himself. He was in her home, and there was no visible evidence of Potter. Ticking off the points in his head, Draco thought he could be satisfied with what he knew to be truth: Potter's real place in Ginny's life was that of a friend, rather than a lover.
Draco let a real smile briefly transform his face before he Apparated away. He would continue the plan, continue to draw Ginny back to him. She'd been the one to leave, and it was fitting that she be the one to come back. It would be a symbolic victory, and his male ego could appreciate that, but what really mattered was being sure this was what she wanted. That he was what she wanted.
He'd barely handled losing her the first time, and he knew he couldn't go through that again. But if things worked out the way he thought they would, he wouldn't have to.
***
Ginny didn't know, as she sat on the floor holding the shoes he'd returned to her, that it had only been minutes since he'd left. He'd Apparated out and she'd Apparated in. Had she known, she might have wished briefly that she'd caught him there. Then rational thought would have taken over and she'd have realized she wasn't ready to see him, as much as she wanted to see him.
There was time for this to unfold as it was meant to. After two years, it could hardly hurt to wait two more days. Especially since she still had to tell Harry.
Ginny grimaced as she stood, carefully replacing the shoes in their box and walking to the bedroom. She set the shoebox in the closet with its counterparts and wondered how it could blend in so easily, how it could look so innocuous when it held such hidden meaning. Those shoes were the end and the beginning, wrapped in tissue paper.
She had found the words to tell Draco she still wanted him, but it had taken days to get them right. Now she had to sort out the kindest way of telling Harry she didn't want him, couldn't marry him … that it was Draco Malfoy who held her heart. And she had to do it sooner rather than later, because Hermione's dogged sense of loyalty would only give her a small grace period, if any. Not much time to undo what had been so awkwardly done in the first place.
Harry's proposal had been so clumsy - a right mess, Ginny had admitted to Hermione after the other girl's breathy squeals had finally stopped. He'd stammered and stared, emerald eyes beseeching her to understand, and finally he'd just held out the ring to her. She'd answered as he'd asked: Silently. A long moment, an indrawn breath, and she held out her hand to him. She couldn't have found the words any more than Harry could have, though they were tongue-tied for vastly different reasons.
Ginny hadn't just accepted Harry's offer of marriage in that quiet moment. She'd held out her hand and reached for a life without Draco in it, trembling fingers grasping a chance to be happy with someone else.
"Worth a try," she murmured out loud.
***
He hadn't been to Hogsmeade in months, partly to steer clear of the boisterous, bustling crowds and partly to avoid the memories of a stolen weekend he'd spent there with Ginny. Draco was mildly surprised to find that neither excuse really applied today as he walked down the main street, barely noticing the witches and wizards he passed. No, the memories weren't terrible at all, since he could imagine making new ones.
Those thoughts consumed him so entirely that he walked two blocks past Gladrags before he realized it. More bemused than annoyed, Draco turned around and headed back to his destination. He had some shopping to do.
***
The saleswitch nearest the door recognized him immediately, and her bright blue eyes widened before she let out a squeak and hurried toward the back of the store. "It's Draco Malfoy," he heard her hiss.
"Well spotted," Draco drawled, following in her frenzied wake. He let his fingers trail over the silky material of the robes and gowns he passed, thinking that nothing could be as soft as Ginny's skin. He'd tried for so long not to think of her, and now he could think only of her. Either way led to madness, but he much preferred the road he was traveling - it led to Ginny, after all.
The owner, Madam Vanora, was waiting at the back of the store, quietly chiding the saleswitch for her ridiculous behavior. "… hardly going to hex you on sight, Stella," she sighed, shaking her head. "Mr. Malfoy!" The proprietress turned the full force of her fuchsia-lipped smile on him, and he inclined his head to acknowledge her.
Stella let out another squeak and scampered into a nearby dressing room. Madam Vanora rolled her eyes, shrugging at Draco. "I've seen billywigs braver than her," she confided. "But she's quite a seamstress."
Draco exhaled a little too loudly, and she rushed on. "Now what can I help you with today? New dress robes?" she asked, looking him over speculatively. "No … that can't be it, you're … impeccable."
At the sound of Draco clearing his throat, she dragged her eyes up until she met his gaze, and he tried to ignore the fact that she might have lingered somewhere in the middle.
"A dress," he said firmly. "I need a dress."
***
It took less time than Draco had anticipated to find what he was looking for, so he was doubly satisfied as he left the shop with a package tucked under his arm. He'd planned to send it from home, but he was pleased with his purchase and eager to continue moving closer to Ginny. He wasn't about to bother being patient.
The Hogsmeade post office loomed on his left, and he swallowed his distaste for the public owl post system. For Ginny, he reminded himself, pushing open the door. He was greeting by a cacophony of sound, hoots and tweets and fluttering wings. He gritted his teeth and crooked his finger at a Great Gray on the top shelf. It obligingly swooped down and perched on the counter, awaiting further instructions.
"What can I do for you, sir?" asked the clerk.
"I'm sending an express. I need this," Draco placed the package on the counter, smoothing it with his hand, "delivered to Ginevra Weasley. 13 Vauxhall Bridge Road. It's to be delivered within the hour."
He would not give her an opportunity to close the door she had opened. Even if she had wanted to - he found himself smirking at that ridiculous thought - she had set things in motion and Draco would only let them go forward from here. There would be no pause for careful reflection, no time to think things through in a rational manner. He would assault her senses and remind her how much he wanted her. She didn't think of him while she was eating her lunch? That would change. Until they saw each other again, Draco intended to make sure Ginny's every thought was of him.
He couldn't have known (though pride might have let him guess), but that goal had already been achieved.