She still loves you, you know.
Despite everything, she loves you in a way she could never love me. I was her hero, the one who would protect her. You have always been so much more...real to her than I am. You were what I wasn’t. What I can’t be. She doesn’t say it, but I know.
Sometimes I have to wonder exactly what it was that made her cling to you so. Merlin knows her brothers and I tried to poison her against you; something I’ve oft regretted in hindsight. A weaker woman would have just caved in and believed everything we said, but not our Ginny.
She stood by you. Still stands by you.
Oh, she doesn’t say anything. Never would. But I can tell.
I may have lived, but you got the girl.
I’ve never really understood how you two came about in the first place, but I remember when we first heard about it. We had no clue until one night, when Ginny stood up in the Common Room, a look of decisiveness and apprehension on her face. She drew herself up to her full height, her face set but wary. “Ron,” she said. There was no quiver in her voice to tell that she was scared or nervous, just a quiet sort of pride. “I’m dating Draco Malfoy.”
The room fell to a complete hush. Ron slowly turned a mottled sort of purple, and Ginny seemed to think it best to continue. “I have been for three months.” She raised her head. “I just thought you’d like to know.” And she turned and walked up to her dorm in the quiet before the storm raged. Ron’s bellow could be heard throughout the tower.
From that moment on, Ron had tried to convince her that you weren’t worth it. He’d have done anything to stop her getting hurt, and in doing so only hurt her more. Love can be like that.
I should know.
She loves me, and she’d never want to hurt me, but sometimes the best intentions hurt the most. I love her. I have done for years. But the grief is for you, and so are the sudden smiles when she stares at nothing in particular.
Ginny loves me, of course. But to be honest, it isn’t the right kind of love. We’re both so mature. She’ll smile at me and I’ll return the smile, and we’ll be content in the knowledge that we’re together.
You two, though. You were so...passionate. So like teenagers.
I saw you once, dancing in the rain. You had whirled her around and her face was alight with joy. You were dancing with so much abandon I don’t think either of you much noticed or cared about steps, but there was such grace. You moved in unison, like each knew what the other was thinking. You were soaking wet, and probably freezing, too, but you were laughing.
That was the first time I’d seen you laugh, Malfoy.
Looking back now, though, you must have known your fate by then. Or known something about it, at least. I wonder if you were really laughing on the inside, or if your stomach was tight with fear and your heart was sinking as you saw her face look up at you with such trust.
You would have known by then that she was pregnant. She probably wouldn’t have told you, but I could tell by the way you moved together that you knew each other so well that you’d know everything. Even if she hadn’t said anything, you’d have noticed the changes in her body.
I remember the owl you sent me before you left. I don’t think anyone but I knows of the existence of that note. Four simple words, scrawled and signed with your usual flourishing signature: Take care of her.
And I have. I was there for her when Elisabeth was born. In the period after, when she was struggling to deal with the losses of two people who meant so much to her. I sat with her when she was trying to accept them, when she couldn’t cry because crying would make it so much more real to her. And I was the one who broke her cage of denial and made her accept the world around her. I was the one who took the brunt of her anger, who let her scream and rage at me and the world. And I was the one who held her when finally the tears broke loose and she sobbed her agony out onto my shoulder, crying so hard she couldn’t even stand up.
We became friends and grew closer. I told her how it felt when Sirius had died and she finally felt like she wasn’t alone in this. She told me how she’d always felt closed off from Ron, Hermione and I, and how she’d just wanted someone to connect with, to know what she was thinking as soon as she thought it. She spoke about how you had done that, how you had seemed to know everything about her.
And slowly, we became more than friends. And then more than that. The day I proposed to her was the most nervous day of my life. I knew I couldn’t give her what you had, but I could give her myself, and surely that would be enough? It was, to some extent. She said yes, and we married.
But at the same time, I was never you.
What we have together is sensible. We don’t dance in the rain; we sit in front of the fire and read. We don’t make snow men or play with Christmas trees; we cook for each other and snuggle up on the couch.
She deserves better than that, though. She should have had the kind of husband that would dance in the rain and would be forever in love, not just loving. She should have had you.
But at the same time, if she’d had you, I wouldn’t have had her.
Three lives affected by one decision. It wasn’t exactly a fairytale ending, but then, life never is.
A fairytale ending would have given me my family, would have spared my friends. It would have given Ginny to you, and I would have found someone else. Elisabeth would be alive and well, and we’d all live happily ever after. But they didn’t. It didn’t.
And we all have to accept that.
We are both heroes now, Malfoy. I may have killed Voldemort, but you saved hundreds of lives. You managed to sacrifice yourself for the greater good. You gave it all away, just to keep her safe.
She still loves you, you know.
Despite everything, despite it all, she loves you.
Well, Malfoy, I guess the best man won, after all. Pity it wasn’t me.
I’m just thankful that Ginny got an ever after, never mind the happy.
Despite everything, she loves you in a way she could never love me. I was her hero, the one who would protect her. You have always been so much more...real to her than I am. You were what I wasn’t. What I can’t be. She doesn’t say it, but I know.
Sometimes I have to wonder exactly what it was that made her cling to you so. Merlin knows her brothers and I tried to poison her against you; something I’ve oft regretted in hindsight. A weaker woman would have just caved in and believed everything we said, but not our Ginny.
She stood by you. Still stands by you.
Oh, she doesn’t say anything. Never would. But I can tell.
I may have lived, but you got the girl.
I’ve never really understood how you two came about in the first place, but I remember when we first heard about it. We had no clue until one night, when Ginny stood up in the Common Room, a look of decisiveness and apprehension on her face. She drew herself up to her full height, her face set but wary. “Ron,” she said. There was no quiver in her voice to tell that she was scared or nervous, just a quiet sort of pride. “I’m dating Draco Malfoy.”
The room fell to a complete hush. Ron slowly turned a mottled sort of purple, and Ginny seemed to think it best to continue. “I have been for three months.” She raised her head. “I just thought you’d like to know.” And she turned and walked up to her dorm in the quiet before the storm raged. Ron’s bellow could be heard throughout the tower.
From that moment on, Ron had tried to convince her that you weren’t worth it. He’d have done anything to stop her getting hurt, and in doing so only hurt her more. Love can be like that.
I should know.
She loves me, and she’d never want to hurt me, but sometimes the best intentions hurt the most. I love her. I have done for years. But the grief is for you, and so are the sudden smiles when she stares at nothing in particular.
Ginny loves me, of course. But to be honest, it isn’t the right kind of love. We’re both so mature. She’ll smile at me and I’ll return the smile, and we’ll be content in the knowledge that we’re together.
You two, though. You were so...passionate. So like teenagers.
I saw you once, dancing in the rain. You had whirled her around and her face was alight with joy. You were dancing with so much abandon I don’t think either of you much noticed or cared about steps, but there was such grace. You moved in unison, like each knew what the other was thinking. You were soaking wet, and probably freezing, too, but you were laughing.
That was the first time I’d seen you laugh, Malfoy.
Looking back now, though, you must have known your fate by then. Or known something about it, at least. I wonder if you were really laughing on the inside, or if your stomach was tight with fear and your heart was sinking as you saw her face look up at you with such trust.
You would have known by then that she was pregnant. She probably wouldn’t have told you, but I could tell by the way you moved together that you knew each other so well that you’d know everything. Even if she hadn’t said anything, you’d have noticed the changes in her body.
I remember the owl you sent me before you left. I don’t think anyone but I knows of the existence of that note. Four simple words, scrawled and signed with your usual flourishing signature: Take care of her.
And I have. I was there for her when Elisabeth was born. In the period after, when she was struggling to deal with the losses of two people who meant so much to her. I sat with her when she was trying to accept them, when she couldn’t cry because crying would make it so much more real to her. And I was the one who broke her cage of denial and made her accept the world around her. I was the one who took the brunt of her anger, who let her scream and rage at me and the world. And I was the one who held her when finally the tears broke loose and she sobbed her agony out onto my shoulder, crying so hard she couldn’t even stand up.
We became friends and grew closer. I told her how it felt when Sirius had died and she finally felt like she wasn’t alone in this. She told me how she’d always felt closed off from Ron, Hermione and I, and how she’d just wanted someone to connect with, to know what she was thinking as soon as she thought it. She spoke about how you had done that, how you had seemed to know everything about her.
And slowly, we became more than friends. And then more than that. The day I proposed to her was the most nervous day of my life. I knew I couldn’t give her what you had, but I could give her myself, and surely that would be enough? It was, to some extent. She said yes, and we married.
But at the same time, I was never you.
What we have together is sensible. We don’t dance in the rain; we sit in front of the fire and read. We don’t make snow men or play with Christmas trees; we cook for each other and snuggle up on the couch.
She deserves better than that, though. She should have had the kind of husband that would dance in the rain and would be forever in love, not just loving. She should have had you.
But at the same time, if she’d had you, I wouldn’t have had her.
Three lives affected by one decision. It wasn’t exactly a fairytale ending, but then, life never is.
A fairytale ending would have given me my family, would have spared my friends. It would have given Ginny to you, and I would have found someone else. Elisabeth would be alive and well, and we’d all live happily ever after. But they didn’t. It didn’t.
And we all have to accept that.
We are both heroes now, Malfoy. I may have killed Voldemort, but you saved hundreds of lives. You managed to sacrifice yourself for the greater good. You gave it all away, just to keep her safe.
She still loves you, you know.
Despite everything, despite it all, she loves you.
Well, Malfoy, I guess the best man won, after all. Pity it wasn’t me.
I’m just thankful that Ginny got an ever after, never mind the happy.
The End.
Catalina Royce is the author of 1 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 13 members. Members who liked Fairytale also liked 671 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 13 members. Members who liked Fairytale also liked 671 other stories.
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