There had been tears, so many tears. Words had been carelessly flung like priceless vases, smashing in a thousand tiny pieces upon impact, never to be recovered. She had wanted to see the destruction, to wound him in a way he could not ignore, if only to get some kind of reaction from him. But now that she was surrounded by the shards of her thoughtless cruelty, she just wished she had kept her mouth shut. It was all wrong—all of it—and she wanted nothing more than to say sorry and pull him back into her arms, to kiss him and feel the warmth of his body embrace her. But the words wouldn't come. The damage had already been done. His back was turned on her, colder than ever, and he was leaving, leaving . . .

Gone.

Ginny slid down the wall to the floor, hugging her knees close to her chest as she stared at the closed door. She couldn't believe it. After all the struggles, all the fighting and repeated promises that this time they would make things work, their relationship was over. It was what she had always feared, but that didn't make living with it any easier.

She knew Draco would be back tomorrow, but only to collect his things. She could say sorry then, but what would be the point? It was obvious he was tired of her. Tired of her dramas and her constant need for reassurance. Tired of her jealousy and nagging.

Tired of dealing with her altogether.

Maybe it was better this way. Maybe they had been wrong to think two people from such different backgrounds could actually have a happy relationship. Gods knew she'd had enough of the fighting, of the paranoia and pain. It hurt to love him. It hurt being with him. But even then, it hurt so much more when he was gone.

Ginny pressed her face against her knees, surrendering to the burning behind her eyes. She didn't know what to do. It felt like she was trapped in a nightmare: forced to watch as the world tumbled around her, yet unable to lift a finger to stop it. She just wanted things to go back to the way they were. She didn't want him to leave, but the door was shut and she didn't know how to open it again. She didn't know how to call him back.

She was stupid and proud and so, so desperately sorry.

There was a knock at the door. Ginny scrubbed at her cheeks, wiping away her tears. A wild hope that Draco had come back momentarily presented itself, but she rejected the thought almost immediately. Of course he had not come back. Besides, Draco never knocked.

Ginny stood up and opened the door, almost slamming it shut again when she saw the regal blonde standing there. Why on earth was Narcissa Malfoy outside her flat?

"Can I come in?" Narcissa asked dryly. "Or are you planning on standing there and gaping at me all evening?"

Ginny closed her mouth and held the door open for the blonde, allowing her to enter. Narcissa gave a cursory glance around the flat—the slight curl of her lip telling all too well what she thought of the decor—and then focussed her eyes back on Ginny.

"My son tells me you have broken off your engagement with him," she remarked, expression revealing nothing.

"Did he now?"

There was a bitter taste in Ginny's mouth. It hadn't even been an hour and already Draco had gone to share the news to his mother, as if he couldn't wait to tell of his escape. As if he knew that this really was the end of that travesty they called a relationship, and there was nothing either of them could do to salvage it. As if he didn't even want to try.

She wanted to cry again, but she held back every drop. She refused to let Narcissa see her break down. The woman had always disapproved of Draco's choice to date her. Ginny would not give Narcissa that satisfaction. No doubt the blonde had only come to gloat, anyway.

Narcissa considered her for a moment, her eyes cool and unsympathetic. "You're a fool," she said bluntly.

Ginny blinked in astonishment, but then her anger stirred to life, burning her insides. "Excuse me?"

"I said you're a fool."

"I got that part," Ginny muttered, barely keeping her temper in check. "Mind telling me why you think that? Because if you've just come here to be rude, you can leave."

Narcissa gave a thin-lipped smile. "Fine words from a woman who called her own fiancé a heartless bigot. Or was it selfish? You know, I don't remember now, but I do recall him being rather upset about it."

Ginny shifted uneasily. So Draco had told her that.

The blue eyes met hers calmly. "You don't deserve my son, Ginevra Weasley. You never have deserved him. You've been wrong for him from the beginning, but then I think you know that."

"Is there a point to this?" Ginny gritted out.

Narcissa gave another thin smile. "Well, Ginevra, as much as I disapprove of the relationship, I do not like to see my son so distressed. He loves you—goodness knows why—and he will not be happy again unless he is with you. I want you to go to him and apologise. It's obvious you're just as unhappy with the situation as he is."

"I—what?"

Narcissa sighed. "I will never understand why people cannot understand basic concepts. You had a fight, Ginevra. When you have a fight and say rude things to the person you love, you apologise. It's really quite simple."

Ginny couldn't even bring herself to be offended. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. It seemed so impossible that Draco could forgive her after all the stupid things she had said to him, yet the fact that Narcissa was even standing here gave her some hope. Draco must have gone to his mother straight after their argument. He must have told her that it was all at an end, yet here was the blonde telling Ginny to apologise, to take it all back just like she wished she could. She just didn't know if she had the courage to do it.

"He'll never forgive me," Ginny said in a low voice, dropping her gaze to the floor. "You don't know the things I said."

"Oh, I can imagine. Over-emotional people always say the most idiotic things when they are upset, but that doesn't change the fact my son loves you. He would never have come to me if he did not."

"Why should he even listen to me? I broke off our engagement with him. I told him—I told him—well, I said terrible things, and he—"

"Will understand."

"But—"

"Ginevra," Narcissa said firmly. "I have been married to Draco's father for many years now. Do you think I don't know what it is like to be in your situation?"

Ginny stared at the woman before her as if seeing her for the first time.

"He will forgive you, Ginevra. You just need to let go of your own fear and pride and ask for that forgiveness." Narcissa's eyebrow lifted a fraction, and an amused glint came to her eyes. "Do you think you can do that?"

"I don't know," Ginny said truthfully. "I don't know if I even should. Maybe Draco and I really just aren't meant to be."

Narcissa gave a tinkling laugh. "It's that kind of melodramatic thinking that got you into this mess in the first place."

Not even waiting for Ginny's response, the blonde headed to the door and then paused as she reached for the handle.

"A word of advice, Ginevra," she said, still facing the other way. "No matter how bleak things look, nothing is unfixable. If you really want something to work, it will."

Ginny stared hard at the floor. She heard the door click shut and knew she was alone again. A deep sigh escaped her lips and she turned to confront the empty flat. Memories of Draco were everywhere, refusing to be banished. He lingered in the red stain on the carpet where wine had been spilt after a celebration; he clung to the furniture where his body had laid alongside hers—a whisper of passion but also pain. His presence was as tangible and real as the walls surrounding her, and she knew he would never really leave it. He was part of this home, because he was part of her.

She sighed again and curled up on the couch, letting his cool, familiar scent envelop her. She could almost imagine he was holding her if she closed her eyes. A tear rolled down her cheek, and she hugged her arms tighter to herself.

She knew what she had to do, of course. But did she have the courage?

It seemed so wrong.

It seemed so right.