All I wanted was to go home.

America, for all its grandeur and pomp, was grating on my nerves. I mean, you can’t even get decent fish and chips in “the home of the brave”. Brave? Well, why can’t some random American be bloody brave enough to open a cookbook—a BRITISH one—and learn how to make some decent fish and chips, I ask you?! As it is, I am missing the rain, the tea, and the accents (that are completely normal back home!) of Britain.

Sorry about that…I tend to get a little stir-crazy when sitting in one—very badly padded, I might add—place for more than two hours (five to be exact). But I digress; my personal problems are not what I was concentrating on when this all started. I was, in fact, concentrating on my book. I was having a good time reading, as well, when it distracted me.

And by it, I mean the giggling.

At first I ignored it. I mean, girls giggle all the time; especially those blond bimbos that reside all over America. Not that I have anything against blondes…or America…really! I don’t! Oh, my husband is blond for goodness’ sake! Anyway.

The giggling, right. Well, it’s normal to hear giggling in a public place and you can’t get any more public than an airport. But this was incessant, constant, and loud giggling that was coming from everywhere. Irritated, as anyone would be, I looked up.

And my eyes nearly popped out of my head.

Let me explain; as I looked around the room, almost every single female (well…except me) was covering their mouths, whispering to their companions, and giggling. I couldn’t fathom why! That is, until my eyes fell to what was sitting in front of me. Or rather, who was sitting in front of me.

I recognized them right away. The couple sitting not two feet from me was the same couple who had stood in front of me five hours ago as we checked in. As I watched, I began to comprehend the reason for all the tittering in the room. It was because of him.

My first thought was that of course it was because of some man that my reading was interrupted, but I couldn’t help the small voice in the back of my head that said that I understood why all those girls were fawning over the man sitting in front of me.

The he in question was a tall, pale, blond man who looked to be in his early twenties. As I inconspicuously let me eyes wander over him behind my book I saw, again, what I had seen while standing behind him at the counter. He was, for lack of a better term, drop dead gorgeous. But as I sat there, I realized that apart from being devastatingly handsome, the man had an air of…grace around him. He was wearing a nondescript pair of jeans that encased his long legs and a soft grey sweater that, I would later notice, brought out the blue in his otherwise grey eyes. His hair was a platinum blond that would have looked horrible, had it been on anyone else. He was leaning forward, his back off the chair, elbows resting on his knees. In his right hand he held a small book that looked to contain some sort of symbols (hieroglyphics, I thought, but somehow I knew that wasn’t it). His left hand was wielding a pen and he was writing in the margins of the book, possibly translating the strange symbols. He made, all together, the picture of every girl’s dream man. Hence, all the giggling.

As I let my thoughts wander, I thought back to what I had heard when checking in. I remember watching the man’s fluid movements as he had handed his documents over to the attendant.

“Hello sir,” the attendant had been a bit breathless at the man’s appearance, “your name please?”

It was then that I clearly remembered it.

“Draco Malfoy.”

That was what the man had told the attendant his name was. I remember thinking it was a strange name, but hearing it in his deep, soft baritone, the name didn’t seem anything but made for him. Draco Malfoy.

As it was I appreciated the image he made; and what an image it was. He, this Draco Malfoy, could have been the most delectable thing to grace the earth since fish and chips. If it were not for the fact that I was happily married and completely and uselessly in love with my husband, Will, Draco Malfoy could have been a resounding second place (had that second place not belonged to the aforementioned husband).

If not for that fact and the woman sitting beside him.

She was sitting in the seat next to him and reading like I had been a few moments before. The first thing you noticed about her was her hair. It was beautiful. A pouring crimson waterfall that looked soft and silky to the touch tumbled down her back, unbound. Her eyes, which were darting across the page of her novel, were brown and held an air of intellect. She was pale, though not as pale as the man, and had a smattering of freckles across her nose that lent her a kinder, more approachable air than that of Draco Malfoy sitting next to her. She, unlike her companion, was leaning back in her seat, one hand holding her book, the other carelessly draped across her lap, legs crossed over one another at the knees. She was dressed in black skinny jeans, a dark blue tank top, and a chocolate brown cardigan. On her feet were dark blue ballet flats that were tapping out some unknown beat that resided in her head. I remembered her name as well.

“And you madam? Your name?”. The attendant wasn’t as breathy this time around.

“Ginevra Weasley.”

I recall her sounding amused as she said her name, as if she too had realized the attendant’s not to subtle change of voice. But as they walked away to find seats I remember her grinning at Draco like she was trying not to laugh and him shaking his head with the barest of smiles on his face.

“—Ma’am?” I was too caught up in watching the couple walk away that I had missed what Breathy Attendant was saying but, being the incredibly smart woman that I am, I figured it out.

“Oh, Leena Lightle.”

After that I got a call from Will and in my distraction, didn’t realize I had chosen a spot right in front of them.

Now, as I looked around, I realized that no one had taken the seats around the couple—Draco and Ginevra—or the ones around me. It was strange seeing as we were sitting in the center rows of the gate.

Mentally shrugging I turned back to my book (I really was at a good part) but something made me take one last look at the redhead and blonde sitting across from me.

I’m glad I did.

For in that moment, Ginevra slowly lowered her book, a small crease in her brow, and seemed to stop and listen for a moment. I knew before her smile broke out over her face that she had heard all the giggling and determined, as I had, that its catalyst was none other than her blonde companion.

I thought she would roll her eyes and go back to reading. Or let out a…huff in jealousy or exasperation. But she did nothing I expected her to.

Smiling, she laid her book face down on top of her bag in the seat next to her, effectively marking her page. Intrigued, I continued to watch her over the top of my book (I’m really not this creepy usually. I swear.). Still grinning, she turned to her companion who was still diligently working on his symbol…thing. He did not seem to notice his companion’s movements and she did not disturb him right away. Instead she angled her body towards him and watched him, just as I was watching them, for a few minutes.

As the seconds ticked by, the girls behind us continued to laugh, Draco Malfoy continued to work, Ginevra Weasley continued to watch the man next to her, and I continued to watch them. When I was about to give up and go back to my book (I mean really, the whole bloody room had been watching this man for the better part of the day and he doesn’t even notice!?) when she moved.

Ginevra Weasley slide up in her chair, closer to Blondie, and wound her arm through his, bringing her face a few inches from his cheek.

The giggling ceased instantly.

I choked back a laugh and hide my smile behind my book. So, the girl had brains as well. I could feel the waves of jealousy radiating towards them (or her, in particular) from around the room. Draco Malfoy, apparently, didn’t feel a thing; not even the model worthy girl right bloody next to him.

He didn’t even bat an eyelash! He certainly didn’t stop writing in that book of his. Thinking that Ginevra would be incensed at the inattentiveness that her boyfriend (I think it is safe to assume now) was giving her, I readied myself for the climax of this little scene. But as I watched, Ginevra did not grow angry; if anything I would say her smile grew. That was when I looked more closely at Draco. Even though he had not turned so much as an inch towards her, there was no mistaking that his attention was on Ginevra and her actions. He had been attuned to what she was doing perfectly from the moment she started. It made me wonder if he really wasn’t oblivious and knew exactly what had been going on in the room the entire time.

The next moment Ginevra spoke in a soft, sweet voice colored with amusement.

“There are women staring at you from every corner of this room.”

She was…playing with him? Confused I listened closer.
Thinking that Draco wouldn’t respond, as he hadn’t throughout this entire charade, I kept my eyes on Ginevra. But Draco, it seemed, wanted to surprise us and finally spoke.

“Really.” He replied in a noncommittal voice.

He really seemed like the stoic type (sarcasm will get you everywhere.) Ginevra let out a small laugh and that smile-that-was-barely-there sprouted on the blonde’s face.

“They are. Staring at you like you’re a delectable piece of meat, in fact.”

The smile on his mouth lifted on one side, turning into a smirk that could melt polar ice caps.

“Well,” his deep baritone floated across the space between them and me, “technically, I am a piece of meat. Delectable or not, that can be debated.”

And with that one last sentence, I knew without a doubt that Draco Malfoy knew exactly what kind of impression he made on people, and that he knew exactly how good looking he was.

“Hmm,” Leaning closer to him, Ginevra placed a small kiss on his cheek, “you know as well as I do that you’re delectable in every way.”

As she said the very matter-of-factly, Draco (finally) turned towards her. But unlike other people—I was getting the feeling that these two were not at all like other people—he only turned his head. And unlike other people, Ginevra did not pull back her head to give him room, but remained still, her face barely three inches from his.

In that moment, time seemed to hold its breath. Or maybe it was just me holding my breath. Either way, it seemed like movement stopped and the world around me narrowed down to just the two of them.

“But you,” she said so softly I had to strain and lean forward to hear, “are my delectable piece of meat.”

I felt a giddy smile come to my lips and for the life of me, I couldn’t hold it back. There was no way I could have after hearing the love, the adoration that was in her voice.

Thanking whoever was out there that I had my book in front of my face I snuck another look at them. Her hand was now on his cheek stroking his jaw line, as I myself am wont to do at home with my husband. Waiting to hear something from Draco, I chanced a glance at him.

And tears came to my eyes.

For he was looking at her like she was cool, clear water in the vast desert, like she was the stars in the night sky, like she was the only thing that he could ever want or need, and that he would do anything, anything, to keep her happy.

And I know that look. I see it every day when I wake up next to Will. And I know, from the unfathomable depth in his eyes, that Draco Malfoy loves Ginevra Weasley like no other will ever love her in the entire world.

And as I blink away the water that has gathered in my eyes, Draco moves his head forward and touches his lips to Ginevra’s. Their kiss only lasts a moment, but I can tell that their love will last forever. Because when two people look at each other like that, how can it not?

As Draco and Ginevra move away and give each other small smiles, I hear sighs from around the room.

From the next row over, I hear a little girl’s voice whisper, “Mummy, can I have a prince like that too?”

I grin because at this moment, every girl in the room’s dream is to find their own Draco Malfoy and become some man’s Ginevra Weasley.

And as I turn back to my book, still smiling, I see Draco sit back, and Ginevra lean her head on his shoulder out of my peripheral vision. And that, I think to myself, is what true love looks like.

Unbidden, an image of Will and I in the same position on our couch back home come to mind. I hear the attendant turn on the speaker and say it will be another two hour delay. I sigh and think of our spacious, yet homey flat in London and the incredible safety and love I feel in my husband’s arms. Putting my book down, I lean my head back and shut my eyes.

My last thought before I doze off with a smile on my face is that Draco Malfoy and Ginevra Weasley’s love is the undisputed third most beautiful thing in the world; right after fish and chips, and Will.