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Reflections
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and Hogwarts Express belong to J.K. Rowling.
* * *
Ginny Weasley sat in her compartment, immersed in a book while her raucous friends chattered and joked around her. Occasionally she would respond herself, her bright brown eyes glimmering in amusement before going back to her book again. She didn’t seem to notice silver eyes intently watching her in the compartment across from her.
Draco Malfoy had been noticing the Weasley girl all year. It was like an annoying bug that kept on coming back and biting him, abruptly getting him to notice how beautiful the baby Weasley had become. To make up for it, Draco had been shagging as many girls as he possibly could, giving him the proud reputation of the Sex God of Slytherin. Every time a girl screamed under him, he saw an erotic vision of Ginny in that girl’s place, Ginny’s fiery red hair spread out across his fine silk sheets, Ginny he was thrusting into.
Draco sighed irritably and raked his fingers through his silver-blond hair. He knew he had good looks and could probably get any girl he wanted at Hogwarts except for the girl he wanted most---Ginny Weasley. Dark clouds rolled across the sky, blocking the sun, as Draco glared outside the window, forcing him to tear his eyes away from Ginny Weasley. He idly reached into his trunk and grabbed any book, pretending to be reading. Lifting his eyes from the book, he studied his reflection in the window. Facing him back was a seventeen-year-old Slytherin, proud, arrogant, and sneaky. His father’s silver eyes and looks gleamed back at him in the reflection, and Draco felt his heart tighten. Was that what he was? A miniature version of his father?
His mother’s voice drifted back at him, a soothing reminder of his past.
He sat on the floor in the playroom between his mother’s legs, playing with his stuffed snake. House-elves dithered over the Mistress and little Master, but Narcissa sent them away to help with other things.
Draco looked up at his mother. He always thought his mother looked like a queen, and he boasted to everybody at his primary school that he had a queen for a mother. It made the other boys jealous when he showed by his clothes that he had the money too.
“Mummy---am I going to be just like Daddy when I grow up? I wanna be rich too!” he solemnly said, making sure his eyes met his mother’s.
Narcissa laughed at her child’s innocence and pulled Draco into a tight hug. But Draco heard that the laugh was too high-pitched for it to be natural, and he was worried at what was wrong.
He was curious at what she said when her voice, muffled against his robes said: “You’ll never be your father, I promise.”
He never asked why.
Instinctively, Draco’s hands clenched into fists by his sides. He would never become the bastard who tortured his mother before murdering her, laughing cruelly at her shrieks of pain. He glanced at the rain-streaked window next to him and grew even angrier at the sight of what was in the window. A younger version of his father stared out at him, the hair slightly shorter, but the cold eyes the same, the same mouth set in an angry line.
Was that what Ginny thought of him? A cold, dastardly Malfoy who shunned all acts of goodwill and was going to join the ranks of the Death Eaters next year? Draco dropped his head onto his arms and massaged his temples. Why was it so confusing?
Movement caught his eye, and he shifted his head to see Ginny Weasley laughing at a joke someone had told in her compartment. He seemed to notice that while Ginny’s bright brown eyes sparkled with laughter and mischievousness, he saw that his silver eyes, reflected in the window beside him, seemed frosted over with cold and harshness. She was vibrant and full of energy, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. For Draco, it was always as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders and the decisions he made.
Ginny was sweet and sensitive, yet also fiercely stubborn and determined. A yin-yang, Draco thought, tracing the symbol onto the frosted glass window beside him. I could never be with her. Opposites…don’t attract. With that, Draco pushed all other thought of Ginevra Weasley out of his head and stormed out of the compartment to go change out of his robes.
* * *
The Hogwarts Express slowly slid to a halt outside at Platform 9 ¾. Draco could see happy families waiting outside for their children to get off.
Students streamed out of the compartments, but Draco stayed, until the train was at last silent. Looking around, he was startled to see that Ginny was still there, stuffing her book into her trunk. Hoping to avoid talking to her, he pulled down his trunk and slid the compartment door open—at the same time Ginny opened hers.
Silence reigned, the only sound being the trunk wheels softly rolling along behind them.
At last, Draco broke the silence. “Weasley,” he acknowledged, nodding.
Ginny showed no emotion. “Malfoy,” she coolly replied, giving a short nod of her own.
They arrived at the end of the train, and Ginny was about to get off.
A sudden feeling rushed upon him---a feeling he never felt before, something he couldn’t describe.
“Weasley…wait,” he mumbled.
Ginny, shocked at what he’d said, turned to stare at him.
And then Draco Malfoy kissed Ginny Weasley.
-fin-
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters and Hogwarts Express belong to J.K. Rowling.
* * *
Ginny Weasley sat in her compartment, immersed in a book while her raucous friends chattered and joked around her. Occasionally she would respond herself, her bright brown eyes glimmering in amusement before going back to her book again. She didn’t seem to notice silver eyes intently watching her in the compartment across from her.
Draco Malfoy had been noticing the Weasley girl all year. It was like an annoying bug that kept on coming back and biting him, abruptly getting him to notice how beautiful the baby Weasley had become. To make up for it, Draco had been shagging as many girls as he possibly could, giving him the proud reputation of the Sex God of Slytherin. Every time a girl screamed under him, he saw an erotic vision of Ginny in that girl’s place, Ginny’s fiery red hair spread out across his fine silk sheets, Ginny he was thrusting into.
Draco sighed irritably and raked his fingers through his silver-blond hair. He knew he had good looks and could probably get any girl he wanted at Hogwarts except for the girl he wanted most---Ginny Weasley. Dark clouds rolled across the sky, blocking the sun, as Draco glared outside the window, forcing him to tear his eyes away from Ginny Weasley. He idly reached into his trunk and grabbed any book, pretending to be reading. Lifting his eyes from the book, he studied his reflection in the window. Facing him back was a seventeen-year-old Slytherin, proud, arrogant, and sneaky. His father’s silver eyes and looks gleamed back at him in the reflection, and Draco felt his heart tighten. Was that what he was? A miniature version of his father?
His mother’s voice drifted back at him, a soothing reminder of his past.
He sat on the floor in the playroom between his mother’s legs, playing with his stuffed snake. House-elves dithered over the Mistress and little Master, but Narcissa sent them away to help with other things.
Draco looked up at his mother. He always thought his mother looked like a queen, and he boasted to everybody at his primary school that he had a queen for a mother. It made the other boys jealous when he showed by his clothes that he had the money too.
“Mummy---am I going to be just like Daddy when I grow up? I wanna be rich too!” he solemnly said, making sure his eyes met his mother’s.
Narcissa laughed at her child’s innocence and pulled Draco into a tight hug. But Draco heard that the laugh was too high-pitched for it to be natural, and he was worried at what was wrong.
He was curious at what she said when her voice, muffled against his robes said: “You’ll never be your father, I promise.”
He never asked why.
Instinctively, Draco’s hands clenched into fists by his sides. He would never become the bastard who tortured his mother before murdering her, laughing cruelly at her shrieks of pain. He glanced at the rain-streaked window next to him and grew even angrier at the sight of what was in the window. A younger version of his father stared out at him, the hair slightly shorter, but the cold eyes the same, the same mouth set in an angry line.
Was that what Ginny thought of him? A cold, dastardly Malfoy who shunned all acts of goodwill and was going to join the ranks of the Death Eaters next year? Draco dropped his head onto his arms and massaged his temples. Why was it so confusing?
Movement caught his eye, and he shifted his head to see Ginny Weasley laughing at a joke someone had told in her compartment. He seemed to notice that while Ginny’s bright brown eyes sparkled with laughter and mischievousness, he saw that his silver eyes, reflected in the window beside him, seemed frosted over with cold and harshness. She was vibrant and full of energy, as if she didn’t have a care in the world. For Draco, it was always as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders and the decisions he made.
Ginny was sweet and sensitive, yet also fiercely stubborn and determined. A yin-yang, Draco thought, tracing the symbol onto the frosted glass window beside him. I could never be with her. Opposites…don’t attract. With that, Draco pushed all other thought of Ginevra Weasley out of his head and stormed out of the compartment to go change out of his robes.
* * *
The Hogwarts Express slowly slid to a halt outside at Platform 9 ¾. Draco could see happy families waiting outside for their children to get off.
Students streamed out of the compartments, but Draco stayed, until the train was at last silent. Looking around, he was startled to see that Ginny was still there, stuffing her book into her trunk. Hoping to avoid talking to her, he pulled down his trunk and slid the compartment door open—at the same time Ginny opened hers.
Silence reigned, the only sound being the trunk wheels softly rolling along behind them.
At last, Draco broke the silence. “Weasley,” he acknowledged, nodding.
Ginny showed no emotion. “Malfoy,” she coolly replied, giving a short nod of her own.
They arrived at the end of the train, and Ginny was about to get off.
A sudden feeling rushed upon him---a feeling he never felt before, something he couldn’t describe.
“Weasley…wait,” he mumbled.
Ginny, shocked at what he’d said, turned to stare at him.
And then Draco Malfoy kissed Ginny Weasley.
-fin-
The End.
Lyrielle is the author of 3 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 10 members. Members who liked Reflections also liked 643 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 10 members. Members who liked Reflections also liked 643 other stories.
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