A/N: thanks to Beta Mabel and my friend Lynney for their proofing and help on this chapter!
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Orange vs. Green
The rest of the week went by so fast Harry could barely keep up. After briefly stopping by Hermione's and going through the list of houses with her, they had narrowed it down to five. The original twelve that were delivered included some large flats which they nixed right away. He ate a quick dinner with her, talked about the study hall proctoring he had to do that day and how the students were so stressed and tired many of them fell asleep on their notebooks. Hermione could sense he was stressed by the way he moved---tight and controlled. He wasn't relaxed, stretching out his long legs away from the table or dangling a hand over the chair to scratch Crookshanks. His mind didn't seem to fully be on the specs in front of them and after twenty minutes she could see him getting frustrated at comparing and contrasting the homes. Using the excuse she had to get ready for class the next day, she gave him a quick kiss on his cheek and sent him back to Grimmauld, potential houses in hand, hoping he was relaxing a bit at home.
By Saturday morning, Harry finally felt caught up. Hogwarts was in quiet chaos with the end of the term so near; students were studying hard while teachers were more than ready for the summer, Harry included. After talking to McGonagall about a Quidditch club (he had good news for Christy Bell) he found out he wouldn't have to report back to Hogwarts to work on renewing the wards until the second week of July.
With all that happened during the week, he barely had time to talk to Hermione, let alone get ready for Neville and Luna. Since the bedroom was done, he concentrated on cleaning out Hedwig's cage and checking for any of the dead mice Crookshanks hid where Hedwig couldn't get to them. Soon Neville, with Luna in tow, would be apparating in and Hermione would be coming over so they could rehash their years at Hogwarts, concentrating on the lighter more fun times. Firewhiskey would probably be consumed, courtesy of Fred and George who acquired it at a deep, discounted price.
Harry finished his breakfast and looked over the house listings in front of him, jumping as Hermione appeared next to
him.
"Good morning," Hermione greeted breezily, walking over to Harry.
After glancing over his shoulder to see what he was reading, she bent down to peck his cheek. Looking up to return her greeting caused her lips to brush his, which was not the intended destination. For a moment they both froze, wearing identical expressions of amazement.
"Sorry," Hermione gasped, "you moved at the last minute."
"It's okay," Harry told her quickly, flashing her a grin. "Best thing all morning."
"Harry…," Hermione warned and actually blushed as she turned around to make herself a cup of coffee giving them both a moment to gather their senses about them. Cup in hand, she joined him at the table and they talked houses, exams and about the new Weasley grandchild due early next year.
When the engaged couple apparated into Grimmauld, several hours later, hugs, handshakes and kisses on the cheeks were
exchanged. Luna immediately began talking about wedding plans and asked both Harry and Hermione to stand up in their
wedding, which would be late August. Harry and Hermione both accepted and after going out to lunch, they went back to
Harry's and cracked open a bottle of firewhiskey toasting the very first wedding of their mutual school
friends.
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They had been drinking and snacking since four o'clock that afternoon, so when Luna first mentioned the presence she felt, Harry chalked it up to her being quite tipsy.
"You know Harry, you're very much loved; you know that, right?" Luna asked, her blue eyes roaming around the living room, not quite resting on Harry for any length of time. It was as if she was following something only she could see. Harry glanced at Hermione who gave a slight shrug and a little smirk; they've heard strange things from Luna, similar to this, many times.
`Very much loved?' he repeated to himself, wondering if he heard her correctly. With Luna, anything that came out of her mouth, if you weren't prepared for it, sounded strange.
"Er, okay?" he replied cautiously not sure where this comment might lead too. Neville remained quiet, used to Luna's strange remarks.
"I mean…the vibe in here is incredible. Do you feel anything surrounding you or your house?" Luna now looked at him, then a point over his shoulder. He briefly saw Hermione's eyes flick in the same direction then back at Harry, waiting for his answer. Sitting at the other end of the couch, with Luna across from him, he turned around and looked; nothing but the stairs to the bedrooms.
Turning back around, he cast his glance over Hermione who was watching him carefully, then let it fall on Luna, who was watching him with the same rapt attention. "I feel a bit tipsy that's all," Harry told her holding up his third glass of firewhiskey but Luna shook her head like a teacher indicating that he gave the wrong answer.
"I feel…," she paused and frowned for a second, then a pleased smile took its place, her blue eyes sparkling as they swung in his direction.
"Harry, Ginny wants to talk to you," she said so suddenly that both Hermione and Harry jerked upright where they had been lounging at each end of the couch, their attention now fully honed in on Luna. Even Neville glanced at her in surprise.
"That's not funny Luna," Neville said slowly, gently taking her half empty glass from her hand. She shook her head and glanced at him briefly, her many silver necklaces making slight clinking noises as she moved.
"She's here, Nev, in spirit form of course…she wants me to tell Harry that she is waiting for him to be happy." Luna was now staring at the carpet as if deep in thought. Neville gaped at her but it was Hermione who broke the silence.
"Luna! This is NOT funny." Hermione leaned forward and her voice had the no nonsense tone all around it as it reached Harry, who was sitting like a statue at the other end of the sofa. His hands wrapped around his now empty glass, willing it not to break as he processed what Luna had just declared. Every nerve in his body felt like it was exploding; like the fireworks he had seen years ago at the Quidditch World Cup. He tried to concentrate on the air around him, trying feel Ginny's presence but all he felt was a slight tilt to the room and the awareness of Neville and Hermione's gaze.
"Only after you're completely happy, she says, then can you move on." Ignoring Hermione's warning, Luna now looked up at Harry who stared at her, eyes wide behind his glasses. His mind was struggling to keep up with what she was saying. The three glasses of firewhiskey had slowed his brain and common sense way down.
"I'm not quite sure what to make of you saying this, Luna. Ginny is…gone," Harry told her, slowly, hoping she understood him.
`Maybe I passed out and this is a dream. A very strange dream,' he heard himself thinking. Suddenly, he felt a body next to him and turned, surprised to see Hermione pressed up against him. Her lips were very near his ear and for a brief, almost horrifyingly exciting moment he thought she was going to kiss it.
`I am really drunk I believe,' Harry said clearly, he thought, to himself.
"You don't have to listen to this you know, and you're not that drunk," she said quietly for only him to hear. Harry started, not realizing he had said that last thought aloud. His attention was brought back to Luna as she cleared her throat and began speaking.
"She knows you don't believe she is here, but she is. Ron is out watching a Quidditch match with…Draco?" Even Luna looked surprised as she said his name and Neville stared at her.
"You're trying to tell us the three of them hang out? Luna, I think that first glass of firewhiskey has been your last." Neville made a move to help her up but she stopped him with a wave of her hand.
"Luna if what you are saying is…true, I need some kind of proof. I know everyone wants me to be happy. I hear it, and have heard it, all the time," Harry said in a firmer voice than he thought he could. Inside he was shaking, almost believing that Luna was indeed channeling Ginny's thoughts from wherever she may be.
"Okay…proof," Luna was quiet as she stared back down at the carpet. Harry shifted in his seat, feeling Hermione's hand come up to his back, steadying him.
"She says you have a small mole between your shoulder blades."
"I do?" Harry was visibly surprised and almost slapped Hermione's hands away as she yanked up his shirt and looked. Sudden movements around him still made him jump making him want to yank out his wand and hex away.
He shifted uncomfortably as he felt her light touch in the middle of his upper back. She applied gentle pressure making sure he could feel where she was touching.
"You do, Harry," Hermione said quietly, pulling his shirt down slowly as if stunned, then clasped her hands in her lap.
"I do?" he repeated dumbly, then shook is head for a moment. "I never look at my back in the mirror."
"Maybe Neville mentioned that once to you, Luna. After all he and Harry roomed together for almost seven years," practical Hermione said, looking pointedly at Neville. He just shook his head.
"I don't look at people that closely, Hermione."
"Ginny says," Luna began, garnering everyone's attention once more, "…what? I can't say that aloud!" Luna seemed to interrupt herself and Harry felt himself turn a shade paler. Luna certainly seemed to be conversing with someone, that much he was convinced about. Though, with whom, he was uncertain. He certainly couldn't rule out that it was a voice in her head.
"Harry, I need to whisper something to you." Luna said it such finality and in such a way that it truly did remind Harry of Ginny, just a bit. She could be very forceful when she wanted something to go her way. Many times he had given in to a purchase or a place she wanted to go, just because he couldn't think of a compelling reason not to. He also realized it would be nearly impossible to win any argument with her if she had it in her mind that she was right.
"Luna, if you can't-," Hermione started putting a hand on Harry's knee. He shook his head, silencing her. He was still capable of making his own decisions, and Luna seemed to be very serious, so he gently removed her hand. Standing up he took a moment to make sure the room wasn't tilting anymore and walked over to where Luna now stood near his desk. He leaned down for her to whisper in his ear while holding the desk; his eyes seeking strength from Hermione's dark gaze from the sofa.
"She told me that once you guys were an item, she asked you what your first thoughts were, down in that chamber when you thought Quirrell, er…You-Know-Who was going to kill you because he wanted the philosopher's stone. She told me that you told her your first thought was, "What will Ron and Hermione do?" and the second was how you would finally get to see your parents." Luna pulled back a bit and Harry's eyes shifted to her pale face, feeling as if all the blood rushed from his head. He suddenly found himself sitting in a chair with Hermione's hand firmly planted on his head, pushing it between his knees, aware of her angry voice.
"Luna what did you say to him? He just about fainted!"
Neville was pressing a glass of cold water into his hands, which he now found the strength to take and hold.
"I told him something only Ginny knew and from the looks of it, it's true," she said, lightly resting a hand on Hermione's shoulder. "I'm not doing this to be mean or to hinder him. When spirits choose me and I think it helps the other person, I'll participate. She just wants Harry to be happy and…for you to be, too." Luna took a step back as Hermione pushed herself in front of her, squatting down to Harry's level, hands on his knees.
"You okay?"
"Give me a minute," he said weakly, feeling her take the glass and set it on the floor. Harry clasped his hands behind his neck as if shielding himself from any other truths that might come raining down unexpectedly.
"Did…what Luna say…was it true?" Neville asked tentatively returning from the kitchen where he deposited the empty Firewhiskey and Butterbeer bottles.
"Yeah," Harry intoned dully, feeling the pounding slowly recede from his head. Hermione's hands rubbed his shoulders and that helped, tremendously, for him to regain his footing.
"She just wants you to be happy, and to not feel guilty for moving on with your life. You deserve it and as much as she wishes she could be a part of it, she knows it's not possible. You moving on with your life, marrying and having children will bring her and Ron the greatest joy. For each of you," Luna's mouth curved into a smile. "She also apologizes for making you almost faint. She's gone now." Luna stopped her pacing around the sofa and plopped herself next to Neville.
"You okay Harry?" Luna asked in a genuinely concerned voice.
"Yeah." He kept his head bowed, trying to bring his emotions under control. The mixture of disbelief mingled with the painful memory of remembering a happy, carefree Ginny was draining all his energy at the moment. He reached down next to him and felt for the glass of water. With help from Hermione he took a few sips, feeling the metallic taste of shock disappear from his mouth. He dropped his head again, taking deep breaths, barely aware of Neville moving the glass to the desk so he didn't knock it over.
"We'll talk a bit more in the morning if you want. I'm sorry if I caused you any pain, but she truly wants you to be guilt free and happy; almost impossible to accomplish half of that given the circumstances, I know. But she knows, as do I, that you can do that. She wanted me to reassure you she isn't spying or anything. If you want her to…return…she will. She'll know when you want her to," Luna said softly, standing and wrapping an arm around Neville's waist, apparently just as drained as Harry was after the last few minutes of excitement.
"Come on, let's go to bed and give Harry time to recover," Neville suggested and within moments both disappeared upstairs, leaving Hermione crouched down in front of Harry who was still staring at the floor.
"Harry. Look at me, please?" Harry lifted his head almost colliding with Hermione's chin. She pulled back but kept her hands on his shoulders anchoring him to the real world. "How are you really? Was that stuff she said true?"
Pulling off his glasses he set them down on his desk then rubbed the bridge of his nose nodding his answer.
"It was. And it was only something she would know. Something I had never thought of until she asked and I thought it wouldn't be worth mentioning to anyone else. Why would she be…here?" Harry's voice pulled at Hermione's heart. He sounded like he did on the one year anniversary. Sad, a bit lost and overwhelmed.
Hermione bit her lip trying to word her next question without sounding like she was prying into a private moment.
"Do you…think you could tell me what Luna said to you?" Without any reservation Harry repeated the words Luna
said; the very same ones he spoke aloud to Ginny almost two years ago.
"We both know Ginny and how she likes everyone to be happy. It's probably true, if you believe Luna, that it is truly what Ginny wants." Hermione gripped his shoulders feeling his knees press into her stomach as she leaned towards him so he could see her clearly. Hermione's heart lifted as he told her, helping her to believe that he didn't harbor any deep dark secrets from her. She thought she knew Harry pretty well, better than their other friends and if someone asked her what he thought at that moment he faced Quirrell, she would've said the same thing he did.
Finishing his thought he lifted his head a bit, "I believe her. Strangely enough I know it would make Ginny happy to see me moving on. I've come to that point over the past year, that I do want to move on," Harry admitted, his eyes searching her face. She looked so concerned he managed a small smile for her benefit. "I'm okay. Just one of the stranger things that has happened to me over my life of twenty years."
Hermione nodded. Her hands were gripping his shoulders, rather tightly, making him wonder how she was dealing with the Luna/Ginny experience.
"How're you doing?" he whispered. Instead of her usual, `I'm fine, honestly, Harry,' she slowly slid her arms around his shoulders and hugged him gently. As he held her, he felt his emotions begin to level out and his mind started doing the "crazy game", he had taken to now calling it. Picking up on the scent of Hermione's shampoo, the curve of her shoulders under his arms seemed to start overtaking any ghostie thoughts that had been spinning around in his head after Luna/Ginny's speech.
"I'm okay," she mumbled, finally, against his shoulder.
"I'm thinking I'll have all sorts of dreams I could write books about tonight," Harry admitted, letting his hand smooth down her curly hair. "I'm beat now."
"Do you want me to stay? I could sleep on the sofa," she whispered in his ear. Her cheek was now pressed against his and he closed his eyes savoring the feel of her so close to him. Hermione's presence had superseded Ginny's and in the back of his mind he realized that this may be what Ginny meant about moving on.
"I'm fine," Harry said automatically.
"No, you're not. I'll stay at least until you fall asleep."
"Alright," he sighed, "if you want." He felt her nod in agreement and for a moment they held each other, cheek to cheek. All he needed to do was pull back a small ways and he could kiss her.
As that thought entered his head he pushed it back. After just "hearing" Ginny, Harry realized that those weren't the appropriate kinds of thoughts he should be having; it made him feel a tiny bit guilty too. Pulling away he helping her to her feet and stood up, glad the room seemed to be on firmer ground. Silently, Hermione followed him up the stairs not aware that Harry was inwardly yelling at himself for thinking about kissing Hermione. And now, he realized, he was leading her to his room, instead of insisting on the sofa.
`Damn Firewhiskey. This whole evening has been a bloody mess,' he thought to himself as he entered the loo off his room.
After they visited the small bath, with Hermione transfiguring a comb into a toothbrush, Harry collapsed on his bed fully clothed sans his glasses. He felt Hermione take off her shoes and climb on top of the covers next to him, not hesitating in turning and facing him then reaching out and resting her hand lightly on his chest. Moving his hand up he grasped it tightly, eyes still closed. The room was spinning slightly, now that he was prone on his bed.
"Do you need to talk about anything?" she asked quietly, her head on the pillow next to him. Through his shirt she could feel the steady thump of his heart and she realized that it was something she had never felt before in all the years of knowing him. The heart of "The Boy Who Lived", "The Chosen One", "Savior of the Wizarding World", (all ones he hated) beat under her fingertips. So few people got to feel this about him, though she never doubted many wanted to, but this beautiful feeling was all hers for the moment.
"No, thanks. `Night Hermione," Harry mumbled, squeezing her hand. She whispered it back to him as she leaned over and brushed her lips across his forehead, always pausing on his scar.
----
He was the one who usually had the nightmares. Not her.
Sowhen Hermione woke up to Harry grabbing her arms, hearing herself yelling his name, she didn't know who was holding her and tried with all her might to get away. She sat up trying to run, but was held back, frightening her even more.
"Hermione! Wake up…you're dreaming!"
The sound of Harry's determined voice, not the horrific yell that she had dreamt came from him, caused her
eyes to snap open and in the dim light she saw Harry kneeling in front of her. She was sitting on the bed sideways like
she was getting ready to stand up. For a moment all she heard was her ragged breathing. Harry's hands relaxed but
didn't lose their hold as she began to take stock of herself.
Tears were running down her cheeks, her heart felt like she had just run around the Quidditch Pitch at full speed and
the dream with Voldemort was still vivid in her head. Until now, she had never had such a vivid nightmare involving
him. Somehow she had escaped that horror, though she wished she could've taken the ones Harry had just so he could
sleep the first week they were allowed to rest.
It was her careful, methodical research that eventually led her to find the curse that would release Voldemort's soul from the Horcruxes. And when Harry finally told her the last one was his scar she hadn't believed him. In real life, he convinced her to trust him and with a sense of fear she preformed it, watching him collapse as a white, wispy figure of Voldemort vanished in flames as it searched for its original host.
All went wrong in her dream which had effectively turned it into a nightmare. Instead of an orange pulsating light coming out of her wand it was green and she hadn't been able to stop it. She had heard Voldemort's evil laugh as Harry fell, much like the one he did before the three of them turned their wands on him in real life.
Four winters ago, they had pressed together with Harry in the middle fighting THE battle. Harry had suggested they all try thinking of spells they could use, one right after another no matter how small or insignificant the spell or hex seemed to be.
He hoped it would cause interference on Voldemort's Occlumency and also confuse him as they tried to let as many spells fly as possible. Voldemort knew they were coming before they had even seen him and much to his nature, Voldemort wanted to properly duel to the death. Every spell Voldemort shot at him, Harry managed to deflect or escape. Hermione and Ron's spells would sometimes intersect sending a scattering of sparks in time to let Harry get off a spell of his own.
Sectumpsempra didn't work, but he didn't expect it too. The every trusty Stupefy was easily deflected by Voldemort also. But, Harry managed to keep these inconsequential spells flying and with the help of his friends, shielded behind him, he was keeping himself alive until he saw his chance.
Letting fly the Imperious Curse towards Harry, Harry deflected it, causing a small frown of surprise to cross Voldemort's face. In that one heart beat, where Voldemort was truly confused, Harry muttered the counter curse, forcing Voldemort to release his own part of his soul. Cessciddium. To withdraw and kill. No wonder they hadn't been taught it in DADA, Ron had mentioned when Hermione found their answer. Harry had performed it on the locket and when it had seemed to worked, successfully, they stuck with that spell.
Four years ago, as Harry uttered that four syllable word, Voldemort had screamed in agony, suddenly erupting in flames and with an air sucking "woosh," his ashes disappeared with the cold winter wind. Harry had then fallen to the ground, void of any energy and in pain from the beating he had taken both physically and emotionally. In her dream, it was Harry that yelled out when he saw the green, instead of an orange light explode from her wand. He then proceeded to fall lifelessly to the ground.
"Hermione, are you okay?" Harry's hand pushed back damp strands of hair from her forehead until she looked at him meeting his gaze.
Hurtling herself to the present she took a few deep breaths and shakily let them out. Resting his hand on her shoulder he waited for some confirmation that she was indeed awake and coherent.
"I'm okay now," she whispered, making slow movements to get back on the bed. Harry watched her the whole way, noticing the tears she was wiping off her cheeks with the palms of her hands.
"I hate those nightmares." Harry laid down next to her, wrapping an arm under and around her shoulders. Rolling towards him she nodded, glad he wasn't pushing her to tell him about what she dreamt. Under her hand she could feel Harry's heart beating as wildly as hers causing her to realize she must've scared him as much as the nightmare scared her.
"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered clutching his shirt in a fist now, anchoring herself to this reality; the one where Harry was talking reassuringly to her.
"Don't be. You can't control what you dream about," Harry reassured her, touching her curled hand. As if by magic Hermione's tense fingers opened and slid between his, gripping tightly making sure he was still there and still alive. Thoughts like mini nightmares ran through her head about what it would feel like, what she would do, if he did die. She felt a chasm open up in her chest producing a shudder and gasp that shook her to her core.
"What's wrong?" Harry questioned softly, feeling Hermione's breathing turning erratic.
"I don't know…I mean I do…I just…Oh God Harry, that dream…instead of the Cessciddium Curse I performed the Avada Kedavra on you…it was awful," her voice reverberated through his chest and he didn't know what to say, what to do, except to continue his reassurances. Gently, he pulled the hand intertwined with his up to his shoulder, forcing her to lift her head and look up at him. Even without his glasses he could still see she was upset and her tense body against his side clued him into that fact as well.
"I'm not going to die," he declared in what he hoped was a firm, believe-me voice. Hermione let her head fall back to her pillow but kept her eyes fixed on his face.
"Harry," she began in the voice he knew meant she was going to argue. Tiredness rang through her words, but the sharp tone was still evident. Closing his eyes he thought of some way to make her believe him. Releasing her hand he turned to his side and mirrored her position, opening his eyes to see her watching him.
"Hermione. Trust me," he whispered, touching her face so she wouldn't look away. Instead, she leaned in and touched her forehead to his, cupping his rough cheek. He could see her biting her lip, struggling to not argue with him, to place her trust in him yet again. "Trust me," he repeated, almost pleading with her to do so.
She lifted her forehead and looked straight at him. The feelings that coursed through her from the moment Harry shook her awake were even stronger as he touched her cheek with the tips of his fingers. With a slight curl of those same fingers he brought her mouth to his.
In that brief moment each would remember, for the rest of their lives, the reality of how deep their friendship was.
Very lightly, calling upon all the control he had both magically and Muggle, he let his mouth rest upon hers, and not push the kiss, he then whispered "trust me" one more time. He fought the urge to pull her to him and feel more of what it was like to kiss the woman that was making his heart race. Instead, he let his hand drop as he pulled away. The sound of her rapid breathing reached his ears and from the lack of words and her wide eyes, she seemed stunned. After a moment, she dropped her hand slowly to her leg and nodded, mutely.
Reassured that she wasn't going to haul off and smack him for kissing her in a way he never had before, he smiled
and saw her smile, shakily, in reply. Turning around she lay back down on her left side.
"You're the only person I trust that much Harry," she whispered so softly he had to raise his head off the pillow to hear her. Confused, he moved closer feeling his body seeking hers. He fought with his erratic thoughts and hormones to keep a few inches of safe space between them. Touching her lips with his had awakened a desire he didn't know he had. Sexual, yes he knew he had that. But, the desire to just be near her, protecting her was different now than in their seventh year. He couldn't quite reason why or how it was different, so he turned back to her comment, wondering exactly what she meant.
"How much is that Hermione?" he asked, now propped up on his elbow looking down at her. She refused to turn over and look at him but she did answer.
"Trusting you with my life that you won't lose yours. I can't bear that thought. If something happened to you…," she began but couldn't finish as her voice caught. Harry felt his heart blossom at those words and tentatively reached out and touched her hip hoping he wasn't overstepping his bounds. He already kissed her, and now was purposefully touching her, trying to let her know in a non-threatening way, how deeply he cared about her.
"I feel the same," he answered back and thought that this time he did have the right words, because her hand touched his, the one on her hip, and held it until they both fell asleep.
---
"How was the visit you paid to your mother's?" Ginny asked as Draco came floating through the wall of the dungeons.
"As well as it can go without her realizing I'm there. She was re-reading the note I wrote." Draco floated over the table where yet another poker game was taking place. Peeves wasn't playing this time around so Ron was actually winning.
"How'd she seem today? Any better?" Ginny asked as she fiddled with a deck of cards. Draco's eyes went from Ron's hand of cards to Ginny, who was staring at her fingers which were spinning a deck of cards in a small circle on the table.
"Hey, where'd you get that deck? Peeves said he'd never tell Ron…." Draco came over and took the box from her loose fingers and opened it, making sure all 52 were present.
"I asked nicely. He actually pulled one out from behind a statue in the Great Hall…he says it's the last deck he has."
"Probably not." Draco lowered himself to table level and began shuffling the cards as Ginny agreed with his assessment of Peeves truthfulness.
"So, your mum?" Ginny raised her eyes and found him staring at her. He looked as if he wanted to ask her something, but at the last minute he changed his mind.
"Okay, I guess. Had a friend over and was talking to her about how she could've prevented this…blah blah blah."
"Could she have prevented this?" Ginny asked softly and Draco took that moment to look down and shrug, continuing to shuffle.
"Mostly likely not. My friends moved on; I would be labeled for the rest of my life, and the thought of living another few years in that house not being able to do much? No. She's better off…."
"You don't truly believe that do you? It's not easy when a parent loses a child," Ginny interrupted, pulling the cards he had dealt towards her.
"In my family, I was just an heir. No tears were ever shed over me." Draco fanned out his cards and began rearranging them. Ginny wasn't sure what game there were playing so she assumed Rummy and began moving her cards around, trying to formulate a response.
"I'm sorry," Ginny said simply and he gave another shrug and laid down an eight of hearts and drew a different card from the pile.
"I swung by Potter's place; saw you there," Draco said nonchalantly moving onto another subject. Ginny paused with her hand on the deck in front of her.
"I didn't see you there. Ron and you were at a Quidditch match, I thought."
"I was. Got bored; it was a blow out. He came back here and I was bored, so I figured that's where you'd be. Interesting using Loony as a messenger."
"Just giving Harry and Hermione a nudge, that's all." Ginny drew a card and placed it in the middle of her hand.
"I was there after you left, Granger stayed you know. In his room." Draco saw Ginny's head pop up sharply from behind her deck of cards. He winked at her. "Maybe they listened to you and decided to cement their friendship in a way they probably never have before."
"Draco, that's not how they are."
"Probably not, but it bothers you doesn't it? That the two of them might be having sex some day and you won't ever get to do that again…I don't think…I don't even know if that's possible or not…being Light, Ghosts, whatever the hell we are," Draco rambled on then stopped as he noticed Ginny wasn't taking her turn. "What?" His gray eyes found hers and locked on and for the first time, he saw something that mirrored emotion.
"Nothing," she said shortly and looked down at her cards, placing one down and picking another from the pile.
"Liar. But fine, I'm not going to press." Draco laid down his entire hand and heard a sigh of exasperation from Ginny as she flipped hers down and shoved her cards towards him.
"If it makes you feel any better," Draco said lightly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth,
"they went right to sleep. No shagging or anything."
She nodded silently and he couldn't tell if that meant she had heard him or she felt better that Harry and Hermione went right to sleep.
An hour later, Draco figured it meant that she felt better that sleep was what her two friends did because she beat him at every other hand they played.
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