Chapter 12- A Beautiful Disaster
Ginny stared at Draco as he finished the song. He’d always been so cold, and now he. . . he was giving her a chance to get under his shell.
“Ginny.” The red head turned to the voice, which happened to belong to Blaise. He was looking serious for once, and somewhat concerned. “You have to sing something back. He can’t have the last word, not this time.”
“Why?”
“Because he just bared his heart to you!” Ginny could tell Blaise was having trouble keeping his voice low enough not attract attention. “He’s giving you the chance to understand him, and help him, a chance he’s given one person before. Just one.”
Ginny drew a deep breath through her nose and nodded; she hated it when he was right. Hermione raised her eyebrows when Ginny requested her song, but said nothing. The red-head arranged herself once more on the stage, and her eyes sought out Blaise as the familiar piano-based beginning filled the room.
“He drowns in his dreams
An exquisite extreme, I know.
He’s as damned as he seems
And more Heaven than a heart could hold.
And if I try to save him
My whole would cave in.
It just ain’t right.
Lord, it just ain’t right.
Oh and I don’t know
I don’t know what he’s after.
But he’s so beautiful
He’s such a beautiful disaster.
And if I could hold on
Through the tears and the laughter
Lord would it be beautiful,
Or just a beautiful disaster?”
Eyes roaming the audience, Ginny found the male members of the ‘Golden Trio’ watching her. Ron looked mildly annoyed that she was up there again, and Harry was gazing at her with interest.
“He’s magic and myth,
As strong as what I believe.
A tragedy with
More damage than a soul should see.
But do I try to change him?
So hard not to blame him;
Hold me tight.
Baby, hold me tight.”
Hermione’s uneasy gaze moved from Ginny, who was steadily growing paler, to Draco, who was losing the fight to keep his face expressionless.
“Oh, and I don’t know
I don’t know what he’s after.
But he’s so beautiful
He’s such a beautiful disaster.
And if I could hold on
Through the tears and the laughter
would it be beautiful,
Or just a beautiful disaster?”
The piano grew to a forte, and Ginny’s eyes sought Draco’s: vibrant green gems met cool gray ones.
“I’m longing for love and a logical,
But he’s only happy hysterical.
I’m searching for some kind of miracle,
Waiting so long.
I’ve waited so long.”
Ginny’s heart sank as Draco turned on his heel and walked stiffly from the room. Her eyes swung to Blaise, and his steely gaze was all that kept her up there. As the piano slowed, a tear ran down Ginny’s cheek.
“He’s soft to the touch
But, frayed at the end, he breaks.
He’s never enough,
And still he’s more than I can take.”
The piano picked up speed and volume once more, and Ginny’s anguished voice rang throughout the corridors of the school, following Draco all the way to the dungeons.
“Oh, and I don’t know
I don’t know what he’s after.
But he’s so beautiful
He’s such a beautiful disaster.
And if I could hold on
Through the tears and the laughter
would it be beautiful,
Or just a beautiful disaster?
He’s beautiful.
Lord, he’s so beautiful.
He’s beautiful.”
Three days later, Ginny was closing the door to the main dressing room when she felt the eyes on her back. Turning quickly, she was greeted by the sight of Draco Malfoy leaning silently against the back wall. She ignored him, putting her props back in their respective places, making herself look busy, but his eyes followed everywhere she went. After a few minutes, Ginny lost patience.
“Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Malfoy, or are you just staring at me for no reason?”
Draco pushed away from the wall, walking toward her in that calm, seductive way of his. “You’ve been avoiding me, Weaselette. Are you angry about something?”
Ginny was angry enough that she could ignore the ‘Weaselette’ for now. “You know I am; I haven’t exactly made a secret of it.”
“I meant besides the obvious.”
“The obvious is all that matters to me.”
Draco just raised an eyebrow and fell silent again. Ginny continued to move about the room, trying to pretend that he didn’t exist; the rising heat in her cheeks told her she was failing. Eventually, she gave up on looking busy and sat down, cradling her aching forehead in one hand.
How long it was until one of them moved, Ginny didn’t know. It could’ve been an hour later, or only five minutes later when Draco grew weary of the silence and started for the door. He was halfway out before Ginny’s voice stopped him.
“What are we, Draco?”
He turned slowly and found tired, defeated eyes looking at him. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, what are we? We’re not enemies any longer, but we’re certainly not friends. We’re costars, but I think there’s more there than that. We fight as often as Peeves plays practical jokes, and feel sparks of something else the other half of the time.” Ginny let her head fall, resting it in both of her hands. “I’m tired, and I want to know.”
Draco actually seemed to be at a loss for words. “I. . . I don't-”
“Ginny?”
Blaise poked his head into the room, eyes slowly growing as he took in the scene: Ginny, looking overwhelmed and close to tears, and Draco, watching her with eyes that were almost. . . unguarded.
“Do I need to make myself scarce?”
Ginny shook her head slowly, running a hand through her hair resignedly. “What do you need, Blaise?”
“Patrick wants you, but I can tell him you’re indisposed.”
“No, that’s alright.” Ginny stood up and walked out of the room, pausing for a moment as she passed Draco. “Let me know if you ever figure it out, okay?”
Ginny stared at Draco as he finished the song. He’d always been so cold, and now he. . . he was giving her a chance to get under his shell.
“Ginny.” The red head turned to the voice, which happened to belong to Blaise. He was looking serious for once, and somewhat concerned. “You have to sing something back. He can’t have the last word, not this time.”
“Why?”
“Because he just bared his heart to you!” Ginny could tell Blaise was having trouble keeping his voice low enough not attract attention. “He’s giving you the chance to understand him, and help him, a chance he’s given one person before. Just one.”
Ginny drew a deep breath through her nose and nodded; she hated it when he was right. Hermione raised her eyebrows when Ginny requested her song, but said nothing. The red-head arranged herself once more on the stage, and her eyes sought out Blaise as the familiar piano-based beginning filled the room.
“He drowns in his dreams
An exquisite extreme, I know.
He’s as damned as he seems
And more Heaven than a heart could hold.
And if I try to save him
My whole would cave in.
It just ain’t right.
Lord, it just ain’t right.
Oh and I don’t know
I don’t know what he’s after.
But he’s so beautiful
He’s such a beautiful disaster.
And if I could hold on
Through the tears and the laughter
Lord would it be beautiful,
Or just a beautiful disaster?”
Eyes roaming the audience, Ginny found the male members of the ‘Golden Trio’ watching her. Ron looked mildly annoyed that she was up there again, and Harry was gazing at her with interest.
“He’s magic and myth,
As strong as what I believe.
A tragedy with
More damage than a soul should see.
But do I try to change him?
So hard not to blame him;
Hold me tight.
Baby, hold me tight.”
Hermione’s uneasy gaze moved from Ginny, who was steadily growing paler, to Draco, who was losing the fight to keep his face expressionless.
“Oh, and I don’t know
I don’t know what he’s after.
But he’s so beautiful
He’s such a beautiful disaster.
And if I could hold on
Through the tears and the laughter
would it be beautiful,
Or just a beautiful disaster?”
The piano grew to a forte, and Ginny’s eyes sought Draco’s: vibrant green gems met cool gray ones.
“I’m longing for love and a logical,
But he’s only happy hysterical.
I’m searching for some kind of miracle,
Waiting so long.
I’ve waited so long.”
Ginny’s heart sank as Draco turned on his heel and walked stiffly from the room. Her eyes swung to Blaise, and his steely gaze was all that kept her up there. As the piano slowed, a tear ran down Ginny’s cheek.
“He’s soft to the touch
But, frayed at the end, he breaks.
He’s never enough,
And still he’s more than I can take.”
The piano picked up speed and volume once more, and Ginny’s anguished voice rang throughout the corridors of the school, following Draco all the way to the dungeons.
“Oh, and I don’t know
I don’t know what he’s after.
But he’s so beautiful
He’s such a beautiful disaster.
And if I could hold on
Through the tears and the laughter
would it be beautiful,
Or just a beautiful disaster?
He’s beautiful.
Lord, he’s so beautiful.
He’s beautiful.”
Three days later, Ginny was closing the door to the main dressing room when she felt the eyes on her back. Turning quickly, she was greeted by the sight of Draco Malfoy leaning silently against the back wall. She ignored him, putting her props back in their respective places, making herself look busy, but his eyes followed everywhere she went. After a few minutes, Ginny lost patience.
“Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Malfoy, or are you just staring at me for no reason?”
Draco pushed away from the wall, walking toward her in that calm, seductive way of his. “You’ve been avoiding me, Weaselette. Are you angry about something?”
Ginny was angry enough that she could ignore the ‘Weaselette’ for now. “You know I am; I haven’t exactly made a secret of it.”
“I meant besides the obvious.”
“The obvious is all that matters to me.”
Draco just raised an eyebrow and fell silent again. Ginny continued to move about the room, trying to pretend that he didn’t exist; the rising heat in her cheeks told her she was failing. Eventually, she gave up on looking busy and sat down, cradling her aching forehead in one hand.
How long it was until one of them moved, Ginny didn’t know. It could’ve been an hour later, or only five minutes later when Draco grew weary of the silence and started for the door. He was halfway out before Ginny’s voice stopped him.
“What are we, Draco?”
He turned slowly and found tired, defeated eyes looking at him. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, what are we? We’re not enemies any longer, but we’re certainly not friends. We’re costars, but I think there’s more there than that. We fight as often as Peeves plays practical jokes, and feel sparks of something else the other half of the time.” Ginny let her head fall, resting it in both of her hands. “I’m tired, and I want to know.”
Draco actually seemed to be at a loss for words. “I. . . I don't-”
“Ginny?”
Blaise poked his head into the room, eyes slowly growing as he took in the scene: Ginny, looking overwhelmed and close to tears, and Draco, watching her with eyes that were almost. . . unguarded.
“Do I need to make myself scarce?”
Ginny shook her head slowly, running a hand through her hair resignedly. “What do you need, Blaise?”
“Patrick wants you, but I can tell him you’re indisposed.”
“No, that’s alright.” Ginny stood up and walked out of the room, pausing for a moment as she passed Draco. “Let me know if you ever figure it out, okay?”
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