Grief


Saturday Evening

“I told you he was still here, Blaise,” Pansy giggled as they came around the corner of the Quidditch stands. They’d been laughing about Draco all afternoon and it seemed that they had more in store from the looks of things.

“I didn’t doubt you, Pansy. I’m just appalled that he’d still be in the exact same position we left him in two hours ago.” He grinned at her. “Right embarrassing, that is.”

They walked across the wet pitch toward their friend. It wasn’t really raining, but it wasn’t really dry either, and Draco was sitting on the grass with his head down on his knees. As they approached, Draco looked up at them through his wet hair, but he didn’t say anything.

“Hey, Draco. What do ya hear?” Pansy asked him as she sat down beside him.

“Nothing but the rain, Pans. Nothing but the rain.” His voice was scratchy. They could tell it had been hours since he’d last spoken.

The three of them sat there for a long time, Pansy and Blaise sharing amused looks and Draco staring out on the misty pitch. Eventually, Draco turned and spoke softly. “Remind me why I’m here, Blaise. I don’t quite remember.”

“Well, Draco,” Blaise grinned and spoke slowly as if speaking to a small child. “You remember playing Quidditch, right Draco?”

Expecting a glare, Blaise was surprised when Draco kept staring at him with a dazed look on his face. It wiped the grin right off his face as he continued. “You played well. We won. After the game she –“

“She?”

“Yeah, Weasley- She. She came and across the pitch towards you–“

“And then you two just started talking for a long while,” Pansy interrupted. “It almost looked like you…”

“Like you ‘liked’ each other and had for a long time,” Blaise finished quietly.

Draco rubbed both of his hands over his face. He still wasn’t saying anything. The situation lost what sense of humour that it had held when the two of them saw the pain and confusion etched on Draco’s face.

“Did you… Do you…” Pansy tried to find the right words. “Have you, um, been seeing each other very long?”

“Seeing her?” Draco still sounded stunned.

“You mean you’re not seeing her?” Blaise looked gobsmacked. “You, you, you, touched her hair, her face.”

“She kissed you. Right there in front of the whole school. Everyone is talking about it, Draco. And not just our own House. Everyone,” Pansy said quietly.

Draco abruptly stood. “Then let them talk,” he said firmly. “They know nothing about it!” He smoothed down the front of his Quidditch robes and stalked to the castle without looking back at either friend.

Blaise looked at Pansy. “I have a very bad feeling about this,” he said gravely.

She didn’t say anything, but instead got up and offered her hand to help him up off the damp ground.

“A very bad feeling… but I’ve been wrong before, eh Pansy?”

She just smirked as she wiped the grass off her bottom.

“Let’s just hope that this time I am. Come on, let’s go in.”

They both turned their back on the pitch and followed their friend into the castle. It was getting dark anyway.



Sunday Night

Draco hadn’t eaten all day. He’d refused to leave his room. It wasn’t like he was hiding or anything; he just needed time alone to sort out everything that was going through his mind.

For most of the morning, he’d kept himself secluded behind the curtains of his bed, which were secured with a Silencing Charm in order to allow his dorm mates some peace. The night before, he’d been cursing and shouting until a conveniently thrown pillow from Goyle’s direction reminded him that he wasn’t the only one not sleeping well. He decided to charm the curtains then.

After all four of his dorm mates left for breakfast, Draco had the room to himself and he began to pace the room for what seemed like hours.

They had all been wrong. So very wrong, he’d decided. Draco hadn’t really laughed with her. They’d never touched. He would never in a million years have laughed with her and pushed her filthy Weasley-coloured hair out of her eyes. It must have been someone else. “Malfoys DO NOT blush!” he abruptly shouted to the empty space. It didn’t matter that Blaise had said his cheeks had been pink after she’d kissed him. It did not happen.

Everyone had just gotten caught up in the excitement. Slytherin usually trounced Hufflepuff, but his catch of the snitch had been a thing of beauty. She must have just been thrilled with the catch, or the fact that he had almost single-handedly bumped Hufflepuff out of the running for the House Cup. Her giddy compliments had nothing to do with him personally. She’d probably been being sarcastic anyway.

Sarcasm wasn’t much of a Gryffindor trait… but then again, he’d always thought she wasn’t much of a Gryff and she certainly had more Slytherin in her than she’d want to admit. A wicked streak. Not to mention her hair clashed dreadfully with Gryffindor red. She’d look much better in green.

Wait a minute, he thought. How had ranting about everyone being delusional turned into a discussion on Ginny Weasley’s attractive qualities? This wasn’t happening.

After dinner, Draco’s dorm mates returned to find him sleeping on the floor with his head in his hands. Blaise hadn’t meant to wake him; he was just trying to place a blanket on his friend. Draco scowled at him as he climbed into his big bed, but then he sighed. Blaise hadn’t any idea that he’d woken Draco from the only sleep he’d had since the Quidditch match. Draco sulkily said good night to his friends, but remained sitting straight up on his bed hours later, just thinking.

No. It never happened. Falling in love with a Weasel was the worst thing that could happen. So it didn’t. He was sure it must have been his imagination. Not that he’d ever imagine anything so perverse.


Monday Morning

When Draco got out of the shower he felt a little better, almost like he had forgotten what had kept him up half the night. He’d almost forgotten the incident by convincing himself with all his ranting that it hadn’t happened.

He dressed the way he always did for classes- quickly but impeccably. He smoothed down his charcoal dress robes and made his first steps out of his dorm in two days. The walk to the Great hall for breakfast had never seemed so long.

A few people in the Common Room snickered, but most had the good taste to do so quietly and without him noticing. His cool temper and demand for respect was legendary in his House and so even a rumoured indiscretion wasn’t enough to sully his good name. Not much anyway.

It was different once he set foot out of the Slytherin Common Room. He understood that he may not get the kind of respect someone of his stature deserved from the other Houses, but this was ridiculous!

As he walked up the stairs, he passed that Macmillan bloke from Hufflepuff sniggering at him. Then some Ravenclaw git catcalled him and asked whether Weasley was a ‘real’ redhead which shocked Draco so much that he pulled his wand and hollered, “You’re so crass! How the hell should I know? She’s not like that!” He would have hexed the boy into oblivion had Blaise not grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him toward the Great Hall.

Comments -and the resultant attempted hexing on Draco's part, of course- occurred all the way into the Great Hall. Draco was seething by the time he got there.

“Let it go, mate!” Blaise cautioned. He was well aware of what was going through his friend’s mind.

It was too late though. As the two boys walked toward the Slytherin table, Draco unintentionally glanced at the Gryffindor side of the room. His eyes settled on the redhead whose mere mention had plagued him all morning. All night too, he remembered.

When he found her sitting with a foul look on her face directed at the rest of her Housemates, it didn’t occur to him that none of the harassment he’d experienced that morning had come from them. They must have had someone else to harass. She looked upset, but when she looked up and saw him looking at her, her face broke into a smile.

He was so angry that he just marched up to her table and poked her hard in the shoulder. “How dare you, Weasley! What the bloody hell did you slip me?”

“Excuse me?” Her face went from surprised hurt to confusion to indignant anger in almost an instant. He’d recognised the change, not that he looked at her often enough to recognise her various faces, yet his heart began to beat faster.

Against his better judgement, and the swift elbow from Blaise, he continued in the same line, “You must have slipped me some sort of love potion or something. Must be so desperate that you’d go to any length to make my stomach do flip-flops. Not that my stomach is, or has ever done flip-flops. What sort of potion was it? Or was it a hex instead? I know how you are with hexes, Weasley!”

“Draco, stop!” Blaise pleaded with him, trying to pull him back from the incensed girl. “You are going to regret-“

Draco shoved him away and interrupted him. “Weasley, I’m warning you…”

Blaise withered fearfully. Clearly his friend wasn’t in his right mind. Ginny Weasley’s legendary temper was NOT confined to her House. The whole school knew what she was capable of. Even Pansy looked afraid for him.

But, instead of letting loose, cursing him to hell and back, giving him a nose full of flying bogeys, or starting a hair-raising screaming match, Ginny Weasley began to laugh.

Draco looked at her in horror, as if her head was spinning on its axis.

“Malfoy, do you hear yourself? Have you gone barmy?” she spat out between giggles.

“You must have done something to me, Red. Otherwise it wouldn’t hurt like this,” he said wearily.

“Things like this DO hurt, Draco.” She suddenly got sombre on him.

“Weasley, if you don’t tell me what you’ve done, you are going to regret it. I promise you that,” he threatened, never taking his eyes off of hers.

“What if I told you I regret everything already?” she asked nastily. Well, she probably didn’t say it that nastily, but it sounded that way to him. As soon as the words left her mouth, she touched his arm. Quietly, she went on, “You were in your dorm all day yesterday. You didn’t come to the library. I thought we could talk about this. You were hiding from me.” She didn’t ask a question, she just said it sadly. Her face had lost the bright red that laughing had caused and become pale. Her freckles stood out against the white of her skin.

Draco just stood there. He didn’t know what he was feeling. He didn’t know how to describe it and he didn’t want to argue with her anymore. He did what he had to do. He just turned and walked away from her, murmuring to Goyle that he’d appreciate a muffin being brought to him in Charms.

Draco had walked out almost as quickly as he’d come. His anger was gone and an unfamiliar feeling was replacing it, he didn’t want to deal with it right now. So, he put it in a little compartment in his mind to deal with later. Much later.

For now, he had a headache and needed to get as far away from Ginny Weasley, and all that she made him feel, as quickly as possible.


Tuesday after Classes

Today was shaping up to be a better day. Draco still hadn’t eaten in the Great Hall, but between Goyle and Pansy the day before and Blaise that morning, he hadn’t been left to starve in the hedgerows.

After his now infamous outrage at breakfast yesterday, the catcalls had all but stopped. Everyone in the castle seemed to be holding their breath, waiting to see what would happen in the next episode of what was being called the ‘Slytherdor’ soap opera.

Draco was glad he hadn’t seen the Girl-Weasel since. His anger was gone and a hollow weariness had replaced it. He didn’t want to fight anymore. He hadn’t really slept in three days, and every time he tried studying in his room his mind drifted to Weasley. He felt something missing and had had a compulsion to go to the library to fill the missing piece. He figured by now, surely it would be safe.

Draco didn’t see her enter the room and sit down with some fellow Gryffindors, or the fact that a few of them gave her a dirty look and stood to leave as soon as she joined them. He was too busy rereading the same page he’d been on since he’d gotten there a half an hour earlier.

He pretended it was her blocking the light as she stood in front of him and not her perfume that made him look up at her. She was at their table, right in front of them.

Ginny looked dreadful. Her face, while pale, was pink and blotchy around her eyes, and they were bloodshot. She first looked to Blaise and Pansy on either side of him and they both nodded at her in acknowledgment. Pansy gave her a sorrowful look because she had felt this way about boys before and knew exactly what Ginny must be feeling.

When Draco made no movement or sound, Ginny leaned down, about to say something to him but he cut her off. “Look, Weasley. If it’s money you want, then how much will it cost me to end this?” His blank face belied the roller coaster of emotions running through him. What did he want her to say? Did he want her to fight him? Did he really want things to end? What things?

Ginny’s mouth was wide open and she looked shocked that he had said such a thing. He had said some pretty awful things in the past, but this had her stunned.

Blaise tried to diffuse the situation, knowing that once Draco was in his right mind that he would kill him later if he didn’t try to save him from himself. “Mate, you didn’t just say that.”

“Yeah, Zabini. He did.” Ginny looked broken, but to her credit she walked away with her head held high. She left with dignity. To Blaise, it was more than Draco would leave with he had never been angrier with his friend. Both he and Pansy refused to even look at Draco.

As soon as Terry Boot walked in Pansy deliberately packed up her school things and said a curt goodbye to Blaise, completely ignoring Draco in order to go sit with him and a few other Ravenclaws.

“You’re a bloody fool, Malfoy.” Blaise studied his friend. “You did that intentionally to hurt Weasley, and while I don’t subscribe to the idea of falling in love with a Gryff of all people, you did, mate. Now you’ve made a bloody mess of it.” He shook his head at his friend as he picked up and left the library.

Draco sat there alone for a long time. No one understood, he decided. Hell, even he didn’t understand what compelled him to say things like that. He felt sick. Sicker than he had felt when Crabbe threw up on the Common Room lounge table during their game of Exploding Snap in first year. Sicker than he’d ever been in his life. It had everything to do with Ginny Weasley, but he didn’t know if there was anything that could cure him.


Wednesday Morning

Herbology was quiet. Professor Sprout have given them the instructions for their projects at the beginning of term so every class that followed since then had been watching and recording the habits of their Alihotsy plants within their chosen groups. Draco hated that his chosen group wasn’t speaking to him. He’d made his friends angry before, but they had never just given up on him like this.

Contrary to popular belief, it was possible for a Malfoy to feel bad, because Draco was proof. He felt horrible about what had happened in the library. He’d planned on talking to Ginny about it, but once he’d finally made it to the Great Hall for a meal then Ginny was noticeably absent. The death glares he received from Scarhead and Weaselby were only seconded by the glares from his own best mates. He’d tried to explain his side of things to Pansy, but she had just scowled at him and got up and sat with her boyfriend at the Ravenclaw table.

Draco knew he needed their advice on what to do with Ginny, but Slytherins were prone to carry a grudge, at least until they were apologized to. That was something Draco wasn’t very good at. He now had no one to explain away that hollow feeling in his chest, or why Ginny’s red and puffy eyes haunted him every time he closed his own.

After nearly an hour of their sullenness, Draco finally had had enough of the silent treatment and he slammed down his text on the table.

“I was a git. A lowly, imbecilic wanker! I’m sorry. Okay? Now, will you two just forgive me and help me fix this with Weasley?”

“You were a git!” Pansy sighed dramatically. “You’ve always been one, this time you just outdid yourself. Now, fixing things with Weasley...”

“Don’t think you can, mate.” Blaise answered him firmly. “She doesn’t know you well enough to know that underneath all your asshatery you’re a pretty decent bloke, most of the time.”

Draco sat down and ran his fingers through his hair. He tried not to do that often, as he’d read somewhere that doing it made you lose your hair up front. That was the last thing he wanted, but the times were desperate. He’d really screwed up and this time, he knew it!

“Look, you were a fool. There’s no denying that.” Draco glared up at Blaise. “Nothing Pans or I can do will help you with Weasley. It’s not like we’re best mates with her or anything. You’re the one who’s spoken with her, Draco. You’re the one who loves her, mate.”

Draco groaned and leaned his head back against the greenhouse wall. “It hurts.”

“It’s called guilt, Draco. And guilt is sometimes good,” Pansy reassured him.

Maybe guilt was good, but it sure felt horrible. He’d done a lot of detestable things and for most of them he didn’t feel sorry, but he’d acted like a complete and utter prat to Ginny Weasley, and now he knew it was too late.


Thursday Night

Another sleepless night. Draco was warm in front of the Common Room fire in his favourite wingback chair. Most of his Housemates were already in bed. Only a few close friends had offered to stay up with him. They had tried, but after Goyle had fallen asleep on the couch, he was snoring, and Pansy’s head nodded for a second time, Draco told her to go up to bed. She squeezed Draco’s shoulder as she walked by him.

“You’ll be all right?”

“Yeah, Pans. I’ll be fine. This can’t last,” Draco answered with a hint of his familiar smirk, “Malfoys don’t feel guilt for long. We’re heartless, you know?”

He’d meant it to be funny, but Pansy’s sigh told him he wasn’t funny. He wasn’t convincing either. “You keep telling yourself that, Draco. Someday you might believe it.” She yawned. “Maybe.”

After she left, the room was deathly silent, except of course, for Goyle’s snoring. At least that sound was a familiar one. Comforting. Something to knock him out of his dark reverie every once and a while.

Draco didn’t want to think any more. His fancy compartmentalising thing wasn’t helping him now either. His entire day had been spent agonizing over all that had happened this past week. As he stared into the fire, Draco realised that he’d known all along that things had been set in motion with Ginny Weasley long before the Quidditch match last weekend.

Both he and Ginny had been spending a lot of time together, but it was surprising that the castle gossips hadn’t caught on earlier. Maybe they had. It was easy not to notice what was going on around him when all he could see was her. The two had studied in the library nearly every night for the last six weeks. It had started completely by accident, but now it wasn’t even a matter of homework. Before this week, every night had found their books forgotten, Ginny sitting on the floor leaning against the table and him on the floor with his knees up and his stomach sore from laughing so much. They never made curfew, but if anyone had noticed, they hadn’t said anything to him.

He supposed things had progressed when, instead of reverting to his ordinary snarky behaviour when he saw her in the mornings, he kept smiling. It had even taken him by surprise the morning that they’d reached the Great Hall doors at the same time and he’d opened them and allowed her to walk through before him. He really hadn’t thought about it, he just did it out of some new sort of second nature.

When they passed in the corridors, she’d make him laugh with a funny face or a pinch to his arm. They’d even had the misfortune to come across Blaise and Lovegood snogging behind Greenhouse Three on one of their walks. They’d looked at each other and found it extremely amusing that they both had their mouths open in shock. They couldn’t help bursting into raucous laughter and scaring the hell out of their two friends. Seeing them together seemed to startle their friends, but Draco had never given it a second thought. To him, it was like she belonged there.

And now, he’d ruined everything. He didn’t know what had possessed him to kiss her back. No, that wasn’t true; Draco knew exactly why he hadn't stopped her when she leaned into him and kissed him. Why he'd enjoyed every last minute of it. What he didn’t know was why he had behaved so appallingly afterwards.

What a fool he’d been. Maybe if he hadn’t been such a prat things could have been…

But it didn’t matter. Everything was ruined. Draco sat there in the Common Room imagining what life would be like right then had he said all the things he should have to Ginny. Mainly, he was just torturing himself. He’d never felt this low, and that was saying something.

It was almost dawn when Blaise came through the Common Room door. “Late isn’t is, Draco?”

“How’s Lovegood, Blaise?” Draco asked wearily with just the trace of a smile.

“She’s absolutely spiffing. Thanks.” He grinned down at his friend. “Thinks you’re a fool, though.” He sat across from Draco in another chair.

“She thinks I am a fool? Interesting.” Draco leaned his head on his hand. “Pray, tell me how that tidbit of information got brought up when the two of you were busy snogging?”

“See, that’s one of your problems, mate.” Blaise grimaced. “I love the girl. We don’t just snog!”

“Okay, okay.” Draco rolled his eyes. “Fill me in. How does she see that I’m a fool?”

Blaise looked sharply at his friend. “Luna was late tonight. It seems that Ginny Weasley, her best mate, had been crying tonight. Been miserable, hasn’t she? It seems that some of the other Gryffs are a bit pissed about the whole thing, you being a Slytherin and all. They don’t want to see their ‘princess’ involved with the likes of you. Some have said some pretty nasty stuff and she gets harassed even more when she defends you. Anyway, Luna got an earful. Since you’re my best mate, I got an earful. So yeah, it seems you’re a fool!”

“Thanks, Blaise,” Draco said, the sarcasm dripping from his words. He made to stand up. “I didn’t know.”

“Draco, listen.” Blaise grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. “Tell her how sorry you are. Tell her, Draco. You love her. We all know, but she doesn’t. She has to know.”

“It won’t matter.”

“It matters. Even if she tells you to go curse yourself, it matters.”

Draco didn’t say anything; he just looked at his friend and they sat in front of the fire for a long time.


Friday Morning

He had to find her. He knew he was out of his mind, but he just had to find Ginny.

Blaise had actually made sense last night. All hope was lost- Draco wasn’t so much of a fool not to realise that- but she had to know. It was the only way he could make up for what he’d done. He had to apologise to her and let her know that he hadn’t been playing her. That he really did care for her.

Draco waited in the Great Hall until breakfast was nearly over. Ginny hadn’t shown up. Instead of going down to the dungeons for class, Draco marched over to the Ravenclaw table and stood in front of Luna Lovegood.

“I have to see her, Luna.”

“So. You’ve got two eyes, don’t you?” She nodded towards the doors.

He turned around and saw her standing there looking at him. His stomach did flip-flops again, but he knew that despite his fear, he would have to tell her exactly what he was feeling.

His eyes caught hers and he walked slowly towards her. She raised a hand low as if to try to stop him. It was almost as if the rest of the Hall went blurry. Ginny was the first to break eye contact; her eyes darted quickly to the Gryffindor table and then back to Draco. Instead of moving forward, she abruptly turned and walked straight out of the Hall.

Draco wasn’t sure if she wanted him to follow, but he didn’t care. He didn’t hesitate. As he walked out the doors he saw the castle doors swing shut. He followed and found Ginny sitting on the outside stairs crying.

Draco crouched beside her and touched her face.

“Go away, Draco.”

“Red, please stop crying.”

She tried to push his hand away and turn her face from his, but he raised the other hand and cupped her cheeks. Tears were still streaming.

“Ginny, I’m so sorry.” Draco wiped them away with this thumb. “I was a fool. I was afraid. I couldn’t see.” He put his forehead against hers. “I know it’s too late, but I had to let you know, once, that I’m in love with you, Ginny Weasley. Have been for a while now. And I’ve been a complete and utter prat.”

“Yes, you have.” Her voice as wet and full of emotion. She tried to nod.

“If there were any way, Red, to make this up to you,” He pulled his head back and looked her in the eye, “I would do it.”

“You’re a selfish, mean prat.”

“I know.”

“You hurt me.”

“I know.”

“You look awful! You haven’t slept in days, have you Draco?”

“No, Red, I haven't.” His gaze was still steady on her face, and he pushed some errant hair from it.

“You need to. Your pretty features need their beauty sleep.” She smiled that secret smile she always used to do when she was teasing him. “You’re usually much more attractive.”

His face broke out in an unsure smile. “Thanks for that. I’m not going to hear the end of this for a while, am I?”

“Nope. You deserve it.”

“I don’t deserve you. I’m a prat and you’re beautiful.”

“Yep, but I love you, so I’m stuck.”

“Like glue, you know.” His heart was doing flip-flops at an alarming rate, but this time it felt good.

She hooked her fingers into his and looked down at their hands for a moment.

“Never again, Draco,” she said seriously, her voice very quiet. Then, looking him in the eye she said, “I won’t do this again.”

“You won’t have to, Red. There is no way I can go through another week like this one. I’d curse myself first.”

Ginny leaned in to hug him. They fit. Draco knew they wouldn’t have to worry. This was meant to be. He looked down at her and tilted her chin up to him to capture her lips with his own. It was soft and gentle until he wound his hands into her hair and they forgot they were sitting in such an exposed and public place. They were so involved that they didn’t notice a couple of heads poking around the corner of the castle.

“Thank Merlin! It’s about bloody time,” a blond boy breathed.

“Hush, Terry. Let me just bask in the moment. Blaise was wrong. We should all do this. BASK!” Pansy giggled and then leaned in for a quick kiss.

“That’s right. Bask all you want. You know I’m not wrong often, Pansy. And this time I’m glad I was. Now, you two need to get lost so Lovegood and I can say goodbye properly before I walk her down to Hagrid’s. Class is in fifteen.”

Walking hand in hand, Luna and Blaise turned for one more glance at the new couple. They still hadn’t come up for air. Blaise hollered back to Pansy, “He’s not going to make it to Charms either, Pans. You’ll probably need to smooth that over with Flitwick, alright, darling?” He grinned at her grimace but turned back with Luna and walked further down the lawn.

Pansy sighed, but it was a happy sigh.

The End