Ginny sang inside her head as she sat in the bathtub, arms hugging her legs. Her head lay on her knees so the silent tears dropped from her eyelashes to roll down her shins.

You must remember this:
A kiss is just a kiss; a sigh is just a sigh.
The fundamental things apply
As time goes by.

She felt vaguely queasy, but not enough to unravel herself and make her way across the room. If she uncurled, she might loose her control on the aching of her heart. Wrapped around herself, she knew exactly where the ache was. She could not make it stop hurting in her chest. Wouldn’t it be lovely if she could just send it down to her pinky toe, where it could be forgotten? But at least here, in the silence, she could keep it in one place, concentrate on it, let everything else in her life become numb.

Hate was too strong of a word, and she knew it. In fact, hate was the wrong word, as it had nothing to do with her feelings for Draco.

He was so much better at ignoring her than she was him. And she tried…hard. Tried to seem like he was just another person living in number twelve, Grimmauld Place. She had been doing well, she thought. When Draco was around, she would laugh and joke, just like the youngest daughter of the Weasleys had always behaved. She would chat with him as friends would, spreading her attention around to everyone equally.

God, why couldn’t she just hug him when she wanted to?

She closed her eyes, remembered to sing to herself so she wouldn’t have to think.

And when two lovers woo
They still say, "I love you."
On that you can rely
No matter what the future brings
As time goes by.

‘Oh, Casablanca,’ Ginny thought, ‘how you lie.’ Draco would never say he loved Ginny. Not that she blamed him for that. ‘Love’ should not be said unless it was true. He wouldn’t mean it, and she couldn’t hold that against him. Her heart could ache, though, and remember when she figured out he would never really care.
~
“Hey, you,” Ginny smiled, padding into the darkened kitchen around two in the morning.

“Ginny,” Draco smiled back, reaching for her hand in greeting. “You couldn’t sleep, either?”

She shook her head, pouring milk into a pan on the stove. “My brain liked to think tonight. It didn’t seem to want to turn off, so I finally gave up and decided to walk around for a bit.” After liberally squeezing chocolate syrup into the milk, she found a whisk and attacked the concoction.

“Why don’t you use magic?” Draco asked.

“I’ve got plenty of energy to spare at the moment,” she said, smiling over her shoulder at him. Finding two green mugs, she sloshed her hot chocolate into them and sat down across from Draco. Neither one thought it was strange when their fingers found each others, locked on.

“I take this to mean you have feelings for me?” he asked. It felt so natural to nod and grin at him after months of flirting, casual touches, smiles and laughter. “That’s good,” he said as he brushed his thumb across her knuckles. “I happen to like you, too.”

They sat there in silence for a few moments, sipping steaming mugs of hot chocolate as Ginny thought. Thought about the previous months, and how occasionally he would freeze up a bit, withdraw when Ron and Harry were around. Not enough for her to get upset about, but enough for her to wonder….

“Does it bother you that I’m Ron’s baby sister? And practically Harry’s?”

“Yeah, a little bit.”

“Why?”

“Because I owe them my life, and I know that they wouldn’t approve.”

“Then why are you holding my hand?”

“Ginny…I don’t think anything will ever work between us, but I still adore you.”

“So…you don’t want to be with me, but you still want to be with me?”

“Something like that.”

“We could have an undefined thing,” Ginny suggested, easily accepting this. It kind of worked for her, too, since she didn’t really want to start anything serious while trapped in Grimmauld Place with the Order. That was the way they were, anyway. After so much awfulness with the war and all the bad luck, neither one of them sweat the small stuff. She tried to laugh whenever she could, smile whenever she felt the urge, and tried her hardest to make the people around her have hearts a little bit lighter. Draco didn’t get upset anymore like he did when they were in Hogwarts. He followed the happiness around him. After spending most of his life in misery and causing misery wherever he went, he took it to heart to turn over a new leaf when Harry and Ron saved him.

“No real rules or anything, just go with the flow?” Draco asked, skeptical.

“What, never had anything like that before?”

“Not really, but I’m willing to try it.”

~

Ginny gazed into the water, not really seeing it but mesmerized all the same. She distantly could feel her cheek losing circulation where her knee pressed into it.

Moonlight and love songs
Never out of date.
Hearts full of passion,
Jealousy, and hate.
Woman needs man
And man must have his mate.
That no one can deny.

‘You’re dumb,’ Ginny thought to herself. She probably should have known she couldn’t keep her feelings in check when every time Draco was around her she got the good kind of belly-rumblings and a little bit dizzy. When she started changing things in her life because of Draco, tried to be a better person, she probably should have realized she’d end up in love with him before she asked him to have an ‘undefined thing.’

Undefined it certainly was. He kissed her twice, she remembered. The first time lasted a good hour, and Ginny was in heaven. That is, was in heaven until they went down to dinner and he acted like she was his little sister as he talked to Ron and Hermione. She had dated enough in Hogwarts to know that it was not normal and really, really sucked. He had said goodnight to the group at large, and went to bed.

Then he was sent on a mission, and she hadn’t seen him for three weeks. While he was away, she convinced herself that she was done with all that, and it was just a phase. Why wouldn’t it have been? He would never accept her, and she was not a woman to put up with being ignored. One of her rules in life was to not waste time on people who didn’t think she was wonderful, and it was so obvious that Draco didn’t really care. Not as much as he should, at least, even for an ‘undefined thing.’

And when Draco came home from his mission, it all went back to normal. She ignored the pinprick of bitterness in her, because she would have so much rather have had nothing happen between them and remain friends than to have something ruin it all. She wanted Draco around no matter what, wanted to be able to smile and laugh with him. If it was just as friends, she was okay with that. He was too good of a person to not have around.

A week later, after coming home in the dead of night from her own mission, she collapsed on the couch in the front room in exhaustion and slept. She dreamed of him, with his slate gray eyes looking at her with adoration. She hadn’t looked him in the eyes for since he had returned. They talked to each other all the time, good friends who wanted to be in good moods. They were always nice. Occasionally their eyes would catch, and those split seconds of connection would open up emotions she had buried. She swore his eyes would say “I’m sorry.” So she never looked him in the eyes as she laughed with him.

But now his eyes were impossible not to stare at, because it’s hard to change things in your dreams when you don’t really want them to change. His lips met hers, and she sighed in relief, giving herself over to the dream. Eventually she realized she wasn’t dreaming, and Draco was cradling her in his lap as his hands smoothed her hair and she cupped his face in her hands.

“I was worried about you,” he whispered into her ear. ”I’m glad you’re okay.” His breath heated her neck as he bit just there, that spot on her neck that made tingles trail up the right side of her body from her toes to the very top of her head. She gasped and held onto him, feeling like she couldn’t get close enough. They could be the same person, their atoms pressed together forming one being, and it still wouldn’t be close enough. He assaulted her neck, knowing it was her weak spot, while her hands found their way under his shirt, massaging his chest, his back. She trailed her fingers down his sides, felt him tremble as his tongue traced her racing pulse point.

She could feel his pulse beating frantically, too.

They both pulled back at the same time, an unspoken agreement that it shouldn’t go any farther. They held each other as their hearts slowed down, each face buried in the others neck. Draco rubbed her back while her legs and arms held them together. Eventually, they straightened out and fell asleep on the couch.

When she woke in the morning, he wasn’t there.

It's still the same old story
A fight for love and glory
A case of do or die.

It had been two months of friendship since that night. Occasionally they would share a lighthearted hug while life at Grimmauld Place carried on, everyone trying to make the best out of their worlds. If the lighthearted hugs were a bit too desperate on her part, neither one of them said anything. He was so much better at ignoring her. She wished he had a secret of why he could forget her so easily, but it wasn’t a secret. He never really cared.

Her back ached, now. The muscles in her body were so tense she didn’t think she could move them now even if she wanted to. Good thing she was happy where she was, where she could let this ridiculous heartache have its time. She’d be able to go back out and join the rest of the Order without appearing miserable if she just let the ache have its freedom for a little while. It was a good friend that way.

Funny, she thought, how even though the water is absolutely freezing I can’t muster enough energy for goose bumps.

So she closed her eyes and thought of all the reasons she couldn’t possibly be in love with Draco. She made a list ranging from his obvious choice of her brother and Harry over her, to the way he pulled away from her hugs… the way he could be in the room with her and not have any inclination to touch her. She knew, because he made none of the movements she made when she was fighting not to give in to urges. She thought of the way he could look at her and have no emotions pass over his face, how he could glance over her and carry on with whatever he was doing without even a hitch.

She heard sounds outside the door and accepted that soon she would have to get out and join the rest of the house. Not quite yet though, she thought as the shivers started. The cold had finally seeped into her bones. Her muscles complained a bit as they had to give up their comatose state, but she was happy where she was and wasn’t going to let her body tell her otherwise.

But, damn, that hurt.

A fresh trickle of tears started, and she closed her eyes so she would not have to see the water vibrate with her body or the tears break the surface. She was so busy concentrating on nothing, she didn’t here the whispered “Alohomora” or the gentle click of the door opening.

____________________________________

He was worried about her. It seemed that these days he spent all his time worrying about Ginevra or trying to keep things platonic between them. Up until two weeks ago, he thought he had done pretty well. They had both tried to forget the kisses and the affection in favor of being uncomplicated friends. He loved that she would go through as much trouble as him to remain friends. He really did adore her, and her quest to make this miserable era a happier time to live in.

He loved her, because she alone fully appreciated and understood this need to make the best out of a situation. This need to not ever let anything hit rock bottom.

But for the past two weeks, the circles under her eyes had slowly gotten darker. She still smiled, still helped out around the house the best she could, but the easy laughter she was known for had been missing. He found her staring at a corner once, she hadn’t heard him and he didn’t know what to do, so he left before he could cradle her like he wanted to. She was such a strong girl, anyway. She’d be okay.

The days pulled by, and he watched her while he ignored her. She wasn’t okay anymore. Somehow, he knew it was his fault.

He noticed that Ginny had been missing for hours and began to worry. Worry was what he did best with Ginny. Hermione told him she didn’t know where Ginny was now, but last she heard Ginny was taking a bath.

He found the locked door and tapped on it. When there wasn’t an answer, he asked through it if she was ok. Still not hearing an answer, the worry that was constantly there began to claw its way up his throat. To release it, he choked out the unlocking spell and pushed the door open, only to promptly feel the floor fall out from underneath him.

Ginny was curled up in the tub hugging herself as if her life depended on it. She was gently shaking, as if she didn’t have enough life in her to put any real effort into it. That beautiful red hair, God, how he loved her hair, fell tousled in jumping, scattered waves as she wept through her tightly closed eyes. Distantly, he wondered if her tears had effected the water level at all.

He reached for a towel, throwing it across his shoulders as he knelt beside the tub, placing his hand on the side of her face. She was so cold. He pulled her head up, feeling relief when she didn’t fight him. She didn’t open her eyes either, though. So while she shook and cried he somehow got her out of the freezing water without dropping her, holding her up to wrap a towel around her shivering frame. He sat her on the toilet seat cover and knelt in front of her.

“I was going to get out soon,” she choked, eyes still clenched tight.

“It’s okay. You can stay here if you want,” he said, reaching up to brush the tears off her cheeks, leaving his hand there so she could steal his warmth.

She finally opened her eyes to look at him, and he didn’t question it as that last piece of his heart clicked into place and he knew he truly belonged to her. No amount of loyalty to her brother could change that now. Funny how he had been fighting so hard against something this inevitable.

The unbearable need to hold her overpowered him, and he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her down onto his lap, her legs on either side of him. It was all his fault, so he gave her his warmth, trying to draw the chill inside himself and set her body back to normal. She whimpered even as she drew her legs around him, cried as she pressed her frigid nose into his neck, and shook as his hand brushed her stiff hair away from her face.

He pressed kisses to her shoulders, ears, anything he could reach. He rubbed her back up and down, just as he had that night she had returned from her mission. Just like that night, he couldn’t help but touch her. But unlike then, he didn’t try to fight it. He was hers in every way. He wouldn’t hold back from her now.

Slowly he could feel her warming, the heat loosening her muscles so that she wrapped around him, molding against them. He drew her head back and kissed her eyelids, her still-frigid nose, and finally her lips. She kissed him as if trying to breath him in, leaving him wondering how he could have not touched her for the past few months. It was so natural, like eating and sleeping. Granted, eating and sleeping had become increasingly difficult without Ginny.

He let her pull his shirt over his head, let her pull him down on top of her. Propped on his elbows, he cradled her face between his hands.

“Ginevra, look at me?” he asked, kissing her nose. Chocolate brown eyes slowly opened to fix on his gray ones even as another tear trailed down her temple into her hair.

“I love you,” she said, so matter-of-factly it broke his heart. He kissed her then, pouring that heartbreak into her, hoping she could feel his emotions.

“I love you,” he breathed when he pulled back.