With or Without You

Smashed Sunshine

Rating: PG13
Genres: Drama, Romance
Relationships: Draco & Ginny
Book: Draco & Ginny, Books 1 - 4
Published: 03/07/2003
Last Updated: 03/07/2003
Status: completed

Based around the lyrics of U2's 'With Or Without You', this is a story of love and pride in a blaze of war. Can you survive when nothing is ever fair in love and war? Or will the ghosts be the only thing to keep Draco alive when there is nothing left? *Edited*

Chapters

1. With or Without You

1. With or Without You

Johnson Normal Johnson 1 2 2003-07-03T09:49:00Z 2003-07-03T09:51:00Z 1 6698 38183 - 318 89 44792 10.2625 MicrosoftInternetExplorer4

With or Without You

See the stone set in your eyes
See the thorn twist in your side.
I wait for you.

The concept of time has an amazing talent at changing the way people perceive the world. Sometimes there is too little time, making your heart beat that small fraction faster and making your thoughts become strained at the idea of how little time there really is left. At other times there is too much time and it stretches out in front of you like an endless desert. You long to reach out and touch the horizon, for this time to finally be over and to be free of its constraining shackles. Finally though there is the point where time is nothing and it is merely something that happens to other people as you sit in your own bubble.

For Draco Malfoy, this much was true. Life itself had been eroded away from the raw warmth of his body, leaving nothing but a shell of a man that used to have something ahead of him. His horizons had never been far from his grasp but now there were no horizons. Everything was just eventual and through his eyes was the shade of grey he connected with nothing.

The sky might be blue over the world, but to him it was torn apart and left gaping at the seams. All that was left was the black hole that seemed to suck everything out of his frail body.

The flowers might be in bloom, showing off their petals to the dancing sun, but he couldn’t smell the sweet fragrance. Instead he smelt the stench of death that lingered within the earth of which they grew. All the swirling colours coming together and forming the crimson red of blood spilt.

Birds flew across the skies, filling it with the harmonies of a life that was fragile and perfect. His ears though had become deaf to the pleas of optimism that the world around him presented. It screamed at him to hear something of life and yet they were blocked out by the shouts of terror that echoed through his ears.

Love filled the beings of planet earth with a sense of happiness. Everyone had a smile somewhere that showed the hope of a new world growing out from the weeds of depression. Draco though was blind to it all.

His eyes were set heavy within themselves, giving the impression of a never ending black hole. They showed nothing of himself, but everything that he had been through. All evidence of the over spilling tears had vanished from his face, leaving behind only the endless trauma of life hate. The tempestuous flecks of grey and silver merged together, blinding him of the happiness everyone else felt.

Anyone who glanced upon him wouldn’t see the hurt and pain at first. Those who spent mere minutes with him though would see it and in turn would feel their hearts tighten with pity. That wasn’t what he wanted though. All Draco wanted was the hum of the world to be silenced, for his frozen lake of a heart to be smashed apart and for the scars across his body to reopen and swallow his life up.

Most of all though he wanted the wait to be over.

Sleight of hand and twist of fate
On a bed of nails she makes me wait
And I wait… without you

Friends were something he had always been lacking, even back from when he was a slip of a child in school. There had been his followers, who at the time he had considered to be friends. They had never even come close to it though. He never shared secrets with them, celebrated special occasions, or even spoke to them about anything that interested him. It wasn’t his fault he had been so cold and off hand with the world, but everyone looked upon it that way. He hadn’t wanted to become attached to people who would eventually die and leave him alone in a world full of strangers. Lucius had always instilled that upon him.

No person was made completely of ice though and eventually it would have to melt away, revealing the vulnerability he had suffocated. This knowledge had always been niggling him at the back of his mind. It was eventual that everyone would fall in love at least once and Draco found himself waiting for it to wash over him. When he had reached 16 and still nothing had happened, he had given up on the idea. As his father had always said, it was better never to involve yourself and stand away from the maddening crowd. It would make him stronger. It would make him into a man just like his father. Just like his father.

That was exactly what he was. His heart was as solid as the oak that had stood outside his bedroom window before the war. It had been sturdy and good to climb, yet it was ugly and scared by years of hard weather. It’s roots pushing up from the safe haven of the earth. That was how he viewed his heart and vowed never to fall in love. It would be stupid to allow someone to touch something so ugly within the body of a powerful, wealthy and dark man.

What he hadn’t expected though was the downpour of rain that fell like sequins from the bag, onto the ground. It had soaked through his shirt burning the cold flesh that lay beneath. Annoyed at this intrusion into his life by something so superficial as mere weather, Draco had walked his way the doorway of the nearest shop along Diagon Alley. Shivers had beaten his body, forcing him to pull his cloak further round himself.

Suddenly a slight girl, with hair redder then anything he had ever seen, pushed past him into the slight space that was left. She had turned to face him and looked up blankly into his face. There was no sign of recognition in her deep ebony eyes, yet she seemed intent on staring up at him with no thought of how rude it was.

His first thought had been to lash out at her. Make her feel his wrath for pushing into his safe haven without even asking politely. Make her feel how much power he, as a Malfoy, had. Something though stopped him. She seemed vaguely familiar and soon he found himself gazing back into the drugging pools that were her eyes. They were big and brown and looked so truly innocent, though something about them looked haunted by darkness.

Flicking his eyes further down he began to notice how close they were. The rain had soaked through her thin cloak and it was too small so parted slightly at the front to show part of her white top. It, like the cloak was thin, and was saturated with water. It clung to her skin tantalisingly, making Draco want to touch her. Never before had he met someone who had this sort of affect on him.

‘You have an eyelash on your cheek,’ had come the sweet sound from the lips he found himself suddenly fixated with. Her hand had risen and brushed some invisible intruder from his face. ‘That’s better.’

The smile on her face was that of an angel and he couldn’t help the gravity defying tug at his lips. Finally it had washed over him. It left nothing of the boy he had been behind. He was shocked at the way it had happened so quickly.

‘Do I know you?’ he had asked in what seemed like a whisper.

‘Yes,’ she had stated simply, ‘I don’t think I know you though.’

Again he had gazed into those eyes, realising that it didn’t matter if he did know her because she had to be his. He could feel it in his heart. This woman had unlocked something more dark and terrible then anything he had ever experienced before and because of this she had to be the one. She might not know it, but she had to be his.

‘What’s your name?’

‘Virginia Weasley.’

With or without you

The name itself had struck a chord, but somehow it didn’t seem to matter. Something within him screamed down the walls that what he was feeling was wrong. She was beneath him in every single way. A Weasley was far too weak and pathetic to be so alarmingly beautiful. It must have been trickery.

With or without you

Yet denial couldn’t hold back his body’s urge. Leaning forward he had kissed her hard and slow on the lips. It was as sudden as a hurricane and he didn’t understand it. All he knew was that if he didn’t kiss her then he would never kiss her again. That in itself had seemed too large a feat.

It had begun and nothing could take it away.

Through the storm, we reach the shore
You gave it all but I want more
And I'm waiting for you…

Love was something so unexpected that it changed everything in Draco’s life. It was turned upside down and spun out of control by a young girl, who’s hair was the colour of blood on the sun. His father disowned him and glared down upon him as if he were some speck of mud upon his shoe. He was thrown out of the house at great length, and with his worldly possessions bundled in his arms he couldn’t help but laugh. It was all so strange and different.

Virginia didn’t seem taken aback at all by what had happened though, and he never asked why that was. She had simply, in her own way, tugged him into her life into a space that had never before been filled. Being a year his junior, she had never before taken a lover. In fact she had only just left the haven that had been Hogwarts, but she seemed reticent to mention it.

Every night they would lie together in her bed, both fully clothed, and gaze into each others eyes. Every time he got the impression that she was trying to work him out, and he guessed he was doing exactly the same. It was infuriating to be in love with someone you didn’t even know. Even more so was the fact she didn’t ever offer the answers freely and because of this he never asked. Her eyes were still haunted by the invisible evil and sometimes when she fell asleep she would writhe in the bed and shout of in her sleep. His arms would clasp around her tiny body and hold her against him, soothing her hair and whispering away the world’s troubles.

Even thing though couldn’t last very long. Voldemort was beginning to rise in the west and soon all the young wizards and witches of the land were being called forward to fight against him.

‘You don’t want to hurt him. I know that. You have to do what is right though.’

Draco looked up from his newspaper at her profound comment. Usually they hardly spoke and kept any communication to touches and sweet kisses. He was content at that and it seemed to make her happy that he never asked for more.

‘Pardon?’ his confusion had been clear then.

‘Your father. You know he’s going to be out there among the hordes of evil. I heard you last night whisper it in your sleep. You don’t want him to die like that, with that blood on his name. Yet you want to fight along with the others and prove yourself worthy.’ She remained silent and calm at all times usually, but this time her voice was strained by some sort of emotion.

‘What would you have me do Virginia?’ he had asked as he moved to stand in front of her.

‘I would have you love me and need no reason to go out and have yourself killed just to prove you weren’t what everyone thought you were.’

‘You know how I hate to disappoint.’

‘You know how I hate to have you be an arrogant pig when I know you’re not.’

With or without you

He knew deep within him that he had to fight. It was more about honour then everything else. In his mind there was nothing left for him to prove to the world. He had already defied Lucius by falling in love with the enemy and allowing himself to be alienated by their goodness.

Never would he be as good as the great Potter or Weasley. Never would he love them all as if they were friends, they would never be that. Never would he become a nice and caring man, just because he was in love. It wasn’t in his blood, as it was in his blood to hate and loathe. The only thing his heart would ever love would be Virginia and only Merlin knew why.

Yet he was scared. He was more scared then he had ever felt before in his life. It wasn’t because he feared dying. Lucius had taught him that there were worse things in life then dying for your cause. It was the fear that he would fail and die, leaving Ginny all alone in a world that would choke the life from her body. He wanted her to be free of the pain he had suffered since he was born.

The only way to free her would be to leave her and fight out on the fields of death and destruction. Leave her and be alone himself.

With or without you

Her eyes showed everything she was feeling. They were edged with despair, betrayal and some sort of understanding. As always though he didn’t ask her what she was feeling. She meant more then anything ever had before.

The sky was bluer.

The flowers brighter then they had ever been before, with the sweetness of their smell caressing his senses.

Birds’ song filled his ears, making him smile even when he was alone in the silence.

Most of all though he was loved and nothing else would ever compare to the way he felt every time she turned her gaze upon him. She might not speak many words, but he knew everything she was feeling just by looking at her.

That night she had led him to bed with the same silence they usually adopted, but instead of simply lying down and offering the space next to her; she stood in front of him. His heart had sped up with anticipation. She was offering him something that he had only ever dreamed of. She was offering herself to him.

Slowly she had shrugged away her shirt and pushed away his. Not wanting to rush her in any way, Draco had remained still, only letting his eyes gaze at the body she had kept so well hidden from him. Her lips though had been wanting and she had kissed his lips so gently, it made him wonder if they were there at all. Her hands had clasped his and placed them on her body, where she wanted to be touched.

The silent understanding had been reached and they fell in to bed in a flurry of repressed passion and intense love. Tears stinging each others faces.

I can’t live with or without you

As the night swept through the weeping trees of the land, Draco had paid his old house a last visit. He was cloaked in the darkness of the night, with only what he was wearing and his wand to his name. Not a single light cut the night’s blackness and he assumed that it was either a precaution or that everyone had left.

It had been rumoured that the Malfoy’s had fled to the North in an attempt to avoid questioning by the Ministry. They had always been known for their allegiances to the darker forces of evil and everyone knew it. It had been amazing how they had managed to survive all those years without scandal. Then again, knowing the power he often felt, it wasn’t so surprising. They had had more power then were good for them and because of it they had become greedy and heartless.

At the time Draco had considered them good features, and again he felt it was true. He was about to betray his family name further and fight for a cause he didn’t completely agree with. All he could console himself was that it was what Ginny believed. It was what she herself wanted to do, but he had told her that she mustn’t join the fight. She had retorted that it was her own decision in the end and Draco had lost control. He had gripped at her arms and shouted at her in desperation that she wasn’t to go to war. The thought of losing her almost wrenched his heart out there and then.

Guilt though had overwhelmed him. Never had he before even thought about laying an unwanted finger on her. He had wanted to protect her though and as they say, sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind. And when she silenced his anger with a shiver making kiss, he knew that he would never know what her decision would be.

Walking round the back of the house, Draco looked to the stump of wood that had once stood great and tall in all its knotted ugliness. Like his heart, the tree had been cut out and sent away for the war effort and it made him want to cry. Never though would he let himself cry. It showed a weakness that Draco feared even more then dying itself.

And you give yourself away

Blood. It seemed to be everywhere he looked. Splattered on the ground from where it had shot from the arterial veins. Pooled around the bodies that littered the ground like rubbish tipped from a bin. It was on his clothes. In his hair. All over his body, mixed with the mud and sweat from his furious battle to remain alive. In his mouth, filling him with the vile coppery taste that only meant death to him.

It had been six months since he had left the comfort of his small apartment with Ginny, for the hell that was the war zone. A lot had happened and a lot had changed, yet Draco felt exactly the same as he had when he was back in school. Cold and heartless with nothing to give but hate.

Looking out at the bodies scattered all around him, he could feel the powerful magic zinging around in the air. It made him feel sick to the core and he spat to the side of him, trying to rid himself of the thought of throwing up. He didn’t want to show weakness, even to a battlefield of dead men and medical workers trying to salvage the ones that were still alive. Only just though, as their bodies were scratched and broken. Blood seeped from them with each drop taking away another moment of life.

And you give yourself away

Draco wanted to go out and help every single one of them, but his feet seemed to be frozen to the spot. It was as if his head was the only part of him capable of anything. As if the darkness had stolen his body away and all was left was the cold calculating brain that helped him survive. That instinct was the strongest when you were under attack from hexes and demons. They came and sucked the life from your body, leaving only the bones and skin of men and women who had once had a life worth living for.

Sometimes he wondered what the point was for any of them surviving. All they had was the hope that one day they might be able to leave the mud and filth of the trenches they lived in for shelter from attack. That one day they may be able to leave the magical battlefield and sleep in their own bed, with their loved ones.

War had killed sleep for the soldiers of those battles though.

And you give, and you give

Day in, day out, all that they saw was the never ending tunnel of hate, despair and darkness and that was what they had to thrive on. They had to take all the hate that they had for each other and use it to make them stronger. It was all they could do to keep going for as long as they did. The battle might be won or lost but the war still kept going miles away in the comfier realms of life, where men with too much power sat around with the lives of millions dancing in their palms.

Looking around himself, Draco took in again the scattered dead bodies that lay on the ground. His eyes, though, couldn’t pick out the good and the evil between each man and woman. In death they were all equal and in life that is the way it should have been, he considered. These people were the lucky ones in his mind. They would never again have to face the darkness of Voldemort’s forces. Never again would they have to watch the people they knew as good friends get knocked down by the green transparent evil. Never again would they have to hide beneath a carcass, crying silently as they tried to be undetected by the enemy. Never again would they be forced to throw someone else’s dead body as a shield against a hex. Never would they have to kill people that were only doing what they were told and then go back to camp to make some food, after washing the fresh blood off your hands.

Finally they would be able to sleep an undisturbed sleep, where none of the darkness would be able to take away their happiness, destroying all hope they ever had.

And you give yourself away

Someone tapped his shoulder, but he barely registered it at all. He was lost in his own world of darkness that would forever haunt his body and his mind. Draco knew the true meaning of fear now and it would never leave him in peace. The world might end, but still it was nothing compared to living and seeing the consequences of actions.

They said that by stepping on an ant in the past could affect the future and now he understood what that meant. The men who made the decisions about what should happen had it all planned out. It worked in theory perfectly and their intentions were in the right place. If they had actually watched some of the fighting thought and had to experience the full blast of war, then maybe they wouldn’t play it all as if it were some game.

Lying just in front of him was the body of the late James Broon. He had been a simple man, who enjoyed trench life as much as he possibly could. He had been enthusiastic, always making jokes and trying to cheer up everyone. Sometimes it worked as well. Draco would hear the foreign laughs of his men and would pray that if there was anything they would remember it would be that. Laughing with their friends.

Now though this man who had given them such a great gift in times of need, was another number in a book. His life wouldn’t be remembered by the important officials, but by his family and the men he had helped so much in his own little way. They would of course put up a memorial, and upon it would be his name, but to them it would be another name in a list of many.

Of course the people at home would feel deep sadness at the thought of these men dying to keep them alive. Then they would go home though and life would go on as usual. For James Broon life wouldn’t go on. His had been cut short by a flash of green light.

‘Captain…?’

Draco blinked, letting out the horrors of his own demons for a second. Turning slightly he was confronted by a petite blonde woman. Her uniform was loose, telling him that she had been unprepared for all the blood and vomit stains. Her hair was knotted back from her face and looked like it had been done in a hurry. Strands kept falling in front of her face with the breeze, irritating her eyes. Then it hit him. This small woman was crying, her eyes looking away from him.

‘Yes?’ he managed to say through numbed lips.

‘Its time to leave now, before the cleansing operation begins. You need medical attention…’ she tried to keep her voice calm and under control.

‘Do I…’

Draco hadn’t even noticed the pain that was throbbing through him, but now it became evident. He had a nasty gash across his leg and his arm was hanging askew and limp away from his body. His own blood stained the black robes he was wearing, making them darker then dark. Fingers made their way up to his face, they were his but they felt so alien. More blood stained his fingers, never to be washed away by soap and water.

That was when it happened. Leaning forward, he threw up everything he had left in his stomach and collapsed at the feet of the young nurse, willing death to take him quickly from the world.

For sleep to finally come.

My hands are tied, my body bruised
She got me with nothing to win
And nothing else to lose.

Draco had lost religion since being in the war to end all wars. If a god did truly exist then why was he in such pain? Why was the world slowly shrinking in the power of all the things this supposed god was against? When the men went to pray at night, he had sneered in disgust at their pathetic hope in something bigger and more powerful then themselves. Maybe if they had lived knowing how much power they really did have, they wouldn’t all have been shot down by potent magic. This god had not protected them, only they were able to do that.

Now though, he began to pray, but not to any god or idol. He prayed to death to take away the constant hum that was echoing through the darkness of his mind. It was as if someone had come in and switched off all the lights, leaving him the knowledge that only he would be able to find the switch. Reaching out he couldn’t find a wall, leaving him with the endless walk to find one.

‘Open your eyes.’

So he did. The command had been to quiet, yet it had triggered something in the back of his mind. His eyes darted about seeking the speaker, knowing that there was something familiar about the soft subtle hints of sweetness. It jarred his senses making him think back to a time that had almost been shrouded in the black of war. Suddenly he was filled with memories of bitter sweet kisses mingled with the spicy red of his loves passion.

‘Virginia…’ he whispered into the light of this new room that seemed to have emerged around him, from the raw battle ground.

When his eyes had fallen upon her, he couldn’t help the flutter of happiness that floated through his numb body. That though was swiftly followed by the guilt that he shouldn’t be feeling this. He should be feeling pain and anger for the deaths of all his men. He should be grieving for all the good blood spilt.

‘Same old Draco. Sleeping far too long for any normal person, making me worry that you might actually be dead.’

A smile almost cracked his lips.

‘Now now Virginia is that any way to treat the ill?’ he said in the croak of voice that he had left.

‘Yes. They deserve it for worrying me for no reason at all.’ she whispered to him.

And you give yourself away

Finally he managed to make out a blurred shape of red, flesh and blue. He tried to focus and eventually he could see her. Not much had changed about her general appearance in his eyes. She was still as beautiful as she had been when he had left her. It might only have been six months, but it had felt like lifetimes away form her embrace.

Her red hair, fell about her face in long waves, slightly longer then he remembered which showed that she had done nothing with it since his fingers had last brushed through it. Again that seemed lifetimes ago. Her eyes were still pools of deep ebony, which made him want to gaze into them forever. That haunting pain though was more exaggerated then last time. She had obviously hurt over the course of the war, and he could only hope that some of her hurt hadn’t been caused by him.

Slowly his eyes travelled down her tiny body, taking in all that she was and all that she had been. Wanting to keep her fresh in his mind, if in case he was really dreaming. She still looked like an angel but, her uniform was blue and he had a sinking feeling in his stomach. It made knots with his emotions. He had never wanted her to see anything of what he had seen. He had wanted to protect her fragile mind from the horror of death. He wanted her to be able to close her eyes and not see the bodies littering the ground.

‘How long?’ he said sternly, wanting to know how much she had seen. How much he hadn’t been able to protect her from.

‘Four months,’ she said in her usual soft voice, ‘I got tired of waiting for you.’

And you give yourself away

The words echoed round his mind in turbulent circles. Four months was a long time to be out in the war as a nurse. What had she seen in those months? Why had he never seen her? Did she hide herself away from him? Was there any love for him in her? How many soldiers had she saved? What sort of bloodshed had she seen?

His mind was instantly drawn to the Battle of Glastonbury. It had been a place where music had once rang out true and dancing had brought happiness to thousands of people through the ages. Now though it stood abandoned except for the memorials and gravestones. Every Jane Doe and John Smith, lingering in transparent greys around the nameless tombstones, wishing for a name to tell one from the other.

It was difficult though. You couldn’t really tell the enemy from the men who had fought for the cause. In any case it would have been wrong for all those people to go unburied.

His eyes went to hers and he tried to decipher her suffering from the hard quality of her eyes. Nothing was on offer though and yet again Draco couldn’t help the frustration that made his blood boil. Never had he opened up his own feelings and now he knew how it felt to be on the receiving side.

‘You should never have waited. Either that or should have kept waiting.’ Draco whispered and turned his head away from her. He didn’t want her to see him in the state he was in. If he went to war tomorrow and died, he would die happy because he had seen her one more time, but he would also not want to be remembered this way. Remembered as a stick thin man, with nothing left to his name except the body he existed within.

‘Maybe if you hadn’t left me then I wouldn’t have had to come here.’

She was true, he knew it. He had let his foolish Malfoy pride convince him that he was bigger then a war. Bigger then the evil hordes that plummeted down the hillsides, yelling their course cry.

And you give, and you give

Ginny had moved to the bed now. The warmth of her skin, made him shudder with repressed memories. She was sat to the side of his limp form, her fingers gently brushing the hair away from his forehead. Her words soothing away everything he was trying to avoid thinking about.

‘I had to come out here. I had to help. Can’t you see that?’ she said in a deathly whisper. ‘I couldn’t just sit at home while everything around me got sucked away into the black hole of this war.’

There was a pause and Draco imagined her moistening her dry and cracked lips. It was agony being this close to her and his body willed for him to react how he should be. He wanted to draw her into his arms and never let go. That would destroy him though. Would he be able to go out there and numb himself again? Could he shrug off her presence in the war? No. His eyes would be constantly searching the dead bodies for hers. They would roam the expanses for any sign of her being there.

‘It was ironic really. You would have laughed if you’d been there. Scolding me probably for being so foolish as to believe what I read! Then again…you wouldn’t know the beginning of it, would you?’ her voice was edged with some untold bitterness. ‘I should hate you. I should have hated you even before we met.’

‘You should have.’ Draco retorted angrily.

‘There was a poster pinned to the door. The same door where I first met Draco and not Malfoy,’ she laughed dryly. ‘It said that healers were needed desperately on the battlefields. It said something about saving the people you loved and me being silly Ginny as usual I took it as a sign.’

Again there was the ear slitting sound of silence ricocheting of the walls of the small room.

‘So I packed a bag and left that day. I left a note for mum, just in case she got worried and I left. Can you believe how reckless I acted? Then again I’ve been more reckless before, haven’t I?’ she leaned forward and kissed his forehead tenderly. ‘I knew you’d need me eventually.’

‘You shouldn’t have come here. I told you not to come here.’ He said in a voice that was stone cold.

‘And why did you do that Draco?’ Ginny turned his face to look at hers. ‘Maybe it’s because you loved me.’

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. She knew how deeply he felt for her and he had never made any move to hide it from her. Maybe that was his undoing. Maybe he should have never had allowed her to get under his skin and turn everything upside down.

Draco grimaced. It was denial plain and clear. He would never regret one single moment of being with Ginny.

‘I love you.’ he corrected softly.

‘I’ve done more good here then I would ever have done sat at home waiting for you to swallow your pride and admit that all of this is too horrid a thing.’ Ginny persisted. ‘I have saved lives. Made people happy even though they feel its wrong for them to breathe when others aren’t. For the first time I have been noticed and appreciated, because no one has a preconception of me.’

And you give yourself away.

Draco had wanted to smile at the way she was talking. She seemed to be freeing herself slowly of everything that he had never been able to unlock. Deep down though, there was a slow rhythmic ache for the fact that he had failed her. His love had not been enough to let her bloom or to keep her away from the war.

It had been the war though that had changed her perception of the world. When she spoke the world listened and when she said life was precious it listened obeying.

‘For the first time I haven’t been shy little Ginny, who had a crush on the great Harry Potter. The same Ginny who opened the Chamber of Secrets with her own foolishness to believe in words. I’ve been truly happy among all this chaos, because I know that I can make a difference.’ Her fingers were traced a scar upon his face idly and her eyes lingered on his eyes that refused to meet his. ‘I’m not invisible anymore.’

‘You were never invisible to me.’ His eyes finally allowed themselves to meet with hers and he felt his heart thaw out.

‘When you came in, I was shocked. Finally I had found you among all chaos and I begged to be the one to heal you. They finally let me and I healed every broken bone and bruise in your body. Everything that is except this scar right here.’

He simply gazed at her. This was the first time she had ever really spoken to him, it would be wrong to spoil the moment with mere words.

‘I hope you hate it. I hope you look in the mirror everyday and hate me for not healing it over…for letting your perfect face have an imperfection. At least then I know you will never forget me. For once your vanity will be my saviour.’ Again she leaned forward, only this time to place a kiss on the scar that adorned his cheek.

‘I could never forget you, Virginia.’ He whispered hoarsely and mustered all his strength to reach out and touch her face lightly.

It felt so smooth beneath his fingers, exactly the way he remembered it. He let them wander round her face, taking in every curve and contour. Never did he want to forget this moment. He would surely die before he saw her again, there was something about the way she was there that told him that. Maybe this Virginia was a figment of his tormented mind. He would never know for sure though.

‘I love you,’ she said in a soft breath.

With or without you

Pulling her closer, he had sealed the bond between them with a bitter sweet kiss. They might never become anything more then lovers, but they had that small amount of time together. They might never be married, with the family of strawberry blondes he had hoped for, but they still had the memories.

They would also always have that bond. Nothing would ever compare to the way she made him feel. It was a mixture of every emotion known to man along with the ones that made him feel like he was on fire. It was difficult to explain, but whenever she was near, there was a storm. It had brought them together and it would tear them apart all at the same time.

Outside the air was beginning to become weighed down with the weight of each rain drop. Each one representing the tears of the planet at the way it was being slowly killed. Each suicidal drop plummeting to its death upon the bodies, and the earth, and the tombstones, taking everything back to the roots of life.

She had responded quickly and soon they were entangled in a passionate kiss. The desperation of it, made it feel like the first and last kiss ever to been known to the human kind. It felt like they were alone in their own bubble of forever. If there really was a god then they had been allowed something that was more precious then life itself. Nothing might be fair in love or war but, as they say, it was better to have loved and lost then to never have loved at all.

With or without you

The heat of her body seeped through to his cold bones as she crashed down on top of him in a mad flurry. Neither of them wanted to pull away, just in case it turned out it was nothing more then a lucid dream that would end. Breathing was ragged and Draco swore he could here the heart beat of the world itself. Like his it was tortured with pain, but would always have something worth beating for.

Finally, when it seemed all the air had been sucked from the room, he pulled back. ‘Promise me you’ll cry for me,’ he said roughly, as he gripped her arms.

‘I promise,’ she muttered leaning forward and pressing another kiss to his lips.

‘Promise me,’ he paused to kiss her, ‘that you will be happy, whatever you might think has happened.’

‘I promise.’ Another hurried kiss filled with passion.

It felt so right for them to be there. The room might have been small, cramped and painted a vile colour of yellow, but it was the perfect setting for lovers to reconcile. After all, if it worked the way Draco hoped, the walls would soon be coloured with the sound of Ginny’s cries or bliss. It was the way it should have been right from the start.

I can't live

‘Promise me that you’ll forgive me for whatever I have done.’ His fingers tugged at the thin material of her uniform.

‘Never you obstinate pig,’ she said between kisses. ‘Now get a move on!’

And so it happened. The world kept turning as yet again Draco dragged her beneath him and allowed himself to take her drugging body in. He would never regret it. Never. Not for as long as he lived. For as long as he lived.

With or without you

Darkness swept upon England and Draco Malfoy moved alone among the boxes that crammed the small attic room. This was the way it was supposed to be, he considered as he gazed down at the unopened box. Him alone as he deserved. They did say that everything you did would come back upon you in double doses and that was exactly what he deserved. He was sure. Almost.

It had been two years since the end had finally come. Like the others he had cheered at the news that no longer would they have to fight. Voldemort had finally been torn down by none other then Ron Weasley himself. Shocking as the news was to him, he couldn’t help but smile at the fact he had done something Potter had spent his whole life trying to do.

Of course the price of this victory made it all seem worthless. Ron Weasley had died that night as he had fought Voldemort with his friend Hermione Granger. They had been lovers with nothing and everything to lose. It had been a chance of fate that it had been them to stumble upon the gap in defence. Draco himself had been fighting that night, and he had sworn, as he always did, that it would be his final stand.

Thousands died, thousands were left injured permanently, and the rest would never forget anything that they had seen. Dreams would be haunted, lives would be affected and they would all have to go back to the normal world.

What was normal though? Draco often pondered this as he sat in his lonely room. Was normal the way things had been before they had even started this? He was pretty sure that that would never be possible. For one thing, he was a changed man. Not only physically but mentally too.

That’s why it seemed so unfair that his life was the misery that it was. It made sense though. For the beginning of his life he had been nothing but a bastard to the people around him. He had pushed away everything that had ever meant anything to him. His mother and father had brought him up to be that way though. They had instilled the fear of…he considered it. What had it been that had made him scared enough to do things he hated?

None of that mattered now though. All he knew was that life would have to go on. It didn’t mean he would have to live though.

With or without you

With or without you

Sitting down, he reclined into his chair and scratched the stubble that was there. Every night was the same. He would come up to the small attic room and sit thinking about everything that had happened. Everything that might have been, if only he hadn’t left. Everything that could have happened. Everything that should of happened.

Sometimes he allowed himself to drown his sorrows, let himself indulge in self pity. Other times he would merely sit and cry, because that was the only thing he had to give to a life he wished for. Then the rest of the time, he would merely continue to go on as he did every waking moment.

Anger now seemed too much for his fragile figure. His emotion was lacking in everything. No one seemed to be able to reach past the exterior of pain he held. They would never be able to understand, so why let them try to? Why let a complete stranger try and uncomplicated his life? He didn’t want that. It would mean moving on, and that would be more then he could handle.

Opening the box that lay in front of him, he removed a slim book and opened it upon his knee. From the pages beamed a happy face. A face that was imprinted so vividly in his mind, he felt he could reach out and touch it. It was always that little bit out of his reach though. Pain and loss was all he could use to describe what it felt to have something to perfect in his mind, and not be able to make it real enough to touch. He would move heaven and earth just to let his skin brush hers.

Ginny would have been proud of Ron. She would have cried for her loss, but she would have been proud all the same. He imagined her cursing his name for being such an idiot. “Only he would have the dumb Weasley luck of dying and saving us all at the same time!” he imagined her saying as she swept about the small house.

That was how he always imagined her. Spinning and turning round the house, as she tried to make it as perfect as she wished. Always reaching to be that little bit better then her mother. Always expecting Draco not to even notice all her hard work. He always did though, even if it was all in his own mind. When he was most alone, he would swear he could hear her humming. Ginny only ever did that when she thought he wouldn’t be able to hear her.

Sometimes he would run himself ragged searching the house to locate her scent. Always though, he would never find it. She would never be there, with an apologetic smile, telling him everything he wanted to know – she had got lost. Hadn’t been able to find her way back to him. She was sorry for making him wait for her for so long. That it would never happen again. She loved him and always would.

It never happened though. Every time his eyes stung with tears as he stood at the front door and peered out. Ginny wasn’t going to come back to him. He knew that in his head, and yet he refused to believe it. If she was dead, then why did it feel like she was just about to enter the room all the time? Why was he able to hear her…sense her being all around him?

I can’t live

Some people said that it was just grief playing on his mind. That he might never get over it, but the pain would numb. Draco had merely nodded, but inside he had laughed sadistically. If only they could tell that to his dreams! Then maybe he might be able to let go of the ghost that danced in his head. It paid no heed though, and still every night he would dream of a life he would never have.

Her death had not been widely known, as her brothers had been. In fact probably no one except the family and friends knew of it. There would never be memorials to all the hard work she had done. There would never be nationwide sorrow for her death. She had passed away like a ghost. He snorted at the double meaning as he gazed at Virginia waving coyly in the picture.

There had been no official certificate, or indeed body, to say that she was dead. Draco had nowhere to visit to grieve her loss. She had been lost within a battle, and when the end of it had finally come, she had been nowhere. The bodies had been buried accordingly, the ones with identity where named and taken home. The rest though were so many, that it was impossible to name every single one.

Simply put, she was missing. The family had sought her out for a few years, but eventually had given up hope. Draco himself had sent out every contact he could find. He would find himself walking to her favourite places and searching for a flash of red. It was never to be seen though. Hope dried out and it was eventually announced that Virginia Weasley, aged 21, had died in duty. She would be remembered by all she had ever helped.

Draco couldn’t accept it. He would never accept it.

And so his life ticked on to no avail. Contemplation of ending it all had crossed his mind. Just to aim the gun, or plunge the knife, but what if she turned up. She would never forgive him for suicide. It would hurt her, more then he would ever know. The last thing he wanted to do was crush the most precious thing to him.

Instead he waited and everyday he would look in the mirror. And everyday the scar would still be there. It made him cry. It made him ache. It felt like only seconds ago that she had kissed it. She was right, forever he would hate it and in turn he would never be able to forget her.

The night drew on as a broken man, plagued by war and a love lost, cried himself to sleep in his own bubble of time. Life would never play a more ironic tune bitterer than nor as sweet as the lament did it play for him alone. For that was what he would forever be. Alone with nothing but a ghost to keep him alive.

With or without you

With or without you