Playlist Ch. 15: 'December' by Lydia

Chapter Fifteen: Close Another Door

Amber stared back at the mahogany door of her employer’s office, the tearful reunion replaying itself in her mind as her fingers itched to do something. Her Slytherin mind knew that what she’d just seen went beyond any definition of an intimate embrace. She also knew that the red headed witch that had just entered Mr. Malfoy’s office was not his wife, nor Scorpius’ mother.

Amber bit down on her lower lip, seeing her younger friend’s smirk burned into her eyelids. She’d been good friends with the younger Malfoy and had met Astoria many times over the years, at various parties held at his house, other Slytherins there as well. She’d stopped going in the last year that she’d been out of school, but she hadn’t stopped being friends with Scorpius; he was one of the reasons she’d gotten her job, after all. Remembering that infernal smirk of his made her hands shake. What would he say if he knew about the woman who had just come to see his father at work, who was now holed up in his office with him doing God knows what?

The eighteen-year-old girl stared down at her stack of parchments, glancing up at odd intervals where the company owls were perched in the corner, ready for post delivery. She twirled her quill between her fingers, trying to concentrate on something other than what may have been happening on the other side of the mahogany door. Damn it, she thought, her fingers balling into a tight fist, Scorpius had a right to know. Ripping out a sheet of parchment, Amber furiously scrawled out a short letter, her conscience practically forcing her to let her friend know what was going on, even if her wording was too blunt and forceful as she penned her suspicions, hoping it wasn’t true but feeling compelled to let someone know.

When she finished the short letter, Amber glanced fearfully up to the old mahogany door, as though instantly afraid that her employer may hear her but there wasn’t even a sound of movement from beyond the door, not even the sounds of voices. Her eyes narrowed, Amber glanced back down at her desk, her fingers shaking as she sealed the letter into a tightly wound scroll and made her way towards the post owls, reaching forward to secure the note to the nearest eagle owl’s outstretched leg.

Finally tying the scroll in place, Amber felt a moment’s indecision before the owl flapped its wings and rose above her, well out of her reach. She watched in a mixture of relief and surprise at what she’d actually done as the eagle owl flew out the open window and into the darkly churning sky.

*

Draco let his hands drift aimlessly over the contours of Ginny’s back, her smooth blouse seeming to be the barest amount of fabric to his touch. She still leaned heavily against him, her breathing becoming more even and relaxed as they stood in the darkness of his private office, only the dim light from the storm outside enough to illuminate their figures, standing so close together they could have been one.

Draco felt his lips curve into a smile as he heard the soft humming noise she made and laid his cheek against the top of her head, closing his eyes while his smile disappeared, having lasted only a few moments. She was back certainly, but he knew that she would inevitably leave again and he wondered if his heart could survive it a second time.

Resignedly opening his eyes, he swallowed thickly, his voice scratchy when he was finally able to summon it. “Gin?”

She stiffened in his arms but said nothing, as if hoping he’d believe she hadn’t heard him though her rigid posture gave her away. Draco breathed a weary sigh, wondering if it would be better to follow her approach and say nothing, but he decided against it. One of them had to be the adult in this situation and he was well-enough fed up with her approach on handling things.

He pulled back enough to lightly grasp each of her shoulders, directing her to meet his gaze. “You don’t get to just stay silent this time,” he murmured.

Ginny’s brown eyes saddened at the memory of her departure years earlier and she lowered her gaze, looking shame-faced. She took in a steadying breath and finally met his eyes once more, a tired determination wrinkling itself between her eyebrows. “You’re right,” she chuckled weakly. “I promise I didn’t come here intending to say nothing at all.”

Draco’s own lips twitched and he lowered his head towards hers, saying nothing but only drinking her in. With a wry amusement, he dryly observed, “You still haven’t, you know? Said anything.”

Ginny’s face broke into a small smile and she nodded, glancing up at him once more. Unconsciously drawing her lower lip between her teeth, she held his gaze, tentatively reaching up to cup the rigidity of his jaw line in the palm of her hand.

“Still a pointy ferret,” she teased and Draco’s grey eyes darkened, unamused. She mustered up an apologetic grin, but they both knew he wasn’t upset. She could tease him endlessly and he would never say a word in complaint so long as he could continue listening to the sound of her voice.

“Why don’t you sit down?” he suggested, lightly steering her towards the black settee against the wall which faced the storm outside. Ginny complied and took her seat, already folding her legs beneath herself and Draco had to swallow the lump in his throat at the sight of her bare skin, not having realized she was wearing a skirt until now. It was modestly cut but still, he could not help but glance across the room to the wizarding photograph of his wife on his desk, the only personal effect in his otherwise business focused office. Astoria was smiling up at him, her blue eyes shining and seeing no one else. Knowing he would never truly cheat on Astoria, Draco felt his hands clench at his sides nonetheless and instantly the framed photograph laid facing down, his carefully directed magic setting the frame down lightly enough to not alert Ginny, though his stomach still churned with guilt.

He turned back around to face Ginny, his throat constricted and his voice hoarse. “Can I get you anything?” he asked quietly. Ginny smiled weakly up at him and shook her head, patting the space beside her, inviting him to take a seat.

Draco sucked in a trying breath and sat down beside her, staring straight ahead and wringing his hands in front of himself, his shoulders and back half-hunched over.

He didn’t see the way Ginny’s lips curved into a wry smile, her amusement faint yet still visible on her tear-stained face. “I thought Malfoys were supposed to have perfect posture,” she teased in a low whisper.

Draco grinned in spite of himself, glancing back and meeting her brown eyes. “Normally and usually, yes, but it’s rather trying once you’re older.”

“And have more problems,” she amended quietly, glancing down to her hands in her lap, loosely intertwined.

Draco heaved a weary sigh, leaning back to sink into the cushions beside her, finding it difficult to breathe. “Yeah,” he sighed, still staring at the overturned photograph on his desk. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut, willing himself to relax against the couch, feeling the warmth of Ginny’s leg pressing lightly against him.

With his eyes closed, Draco didn’t notice the way she was watching him, her brows creased worriedly together as she glanced from him to the picture frame and back. Her fingers clenched into a trembling fist which she pressed against her lap, fighting the need to touch him again, to trace the contours of his face that was at once so familiar and so different than she remembered. They were different, she sternly told herself, carefully releasing her fingers one by one into a flat palm against her skirt, trying to remember her place. He was a married man and looking down at the small band of gold on her own finger, she knew she was married too.

Sitting in the silence, Ginny finally found her voice, surprised by how meek she sounded. “Draco, I’m so sorry,” she whispered, new tears slipping down her cheeks that she could not will away.

Draco briefly closed his eyes, turning his body to face the witch beside him, taking one of her hands in his and lightly squeezing it. “Gin, please don’t sit there crying and saying things you’ll only regret,” he pleaded tiredly.

“I haven’t said anything to regret!” she cut him off, her brown eyes flashing but she quickly turned away from him, wetting her lips and speaking softly once more. “I’m sorry… for putting you through this.” She glanced back at the overturned frame on his desk once more, feeling sick with herself. “If I’m making you uncomfortable, I’ll go and you won’t ever have to hear from me again.”

Draco’s eyes flew wide in surprise, his fingers instantly tightening around her own, keeping her anchored beside him though she had yet to move to stand. She smiled weakly at him and his shocked expression softened, his shoulders slumping.

“I swear I didn’t come to tempt you away from your wife, Draco. Astoria’s a lovely woman,” she whispered.

His hand tightened around hers but he said nothing, only drawing strength from that barest touch. “I love her,” he finally whispered, eyes tightening.

Ginny felt a pang in her chest, but acknowledged it. She had wanted him to be happy. It was what he deserved. “I know you do.”

Turning in his seat to face her more fully, Draco squeezed her hand, his voice rough and laced with exhaustion and weary truth. “I loved you too, once.”

Ginny felt tears building behind her eyes and only nodded, unable to speak, to tell him she’d felt the same. He stared after her, as if that was exactly what he was waiting for her to say, but she never said it, she couldn’t.”

“Are you happy?” he asked in a gruff voice, his silver eyes searching hers in the darkness.

Ginny withdrew her hand from his grasp, wrapping her arms around her suddenly freezing cold body.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry…”

“Usually,” she cut him off in a quiet whisper, staring ahead and out the windows to the grey clouds that promised rain, waiting for it to fall and splatter heavily against the building, the small haven they’d found to be together for these few hours, minutes if she failed to warm her icy and frozen body. She cleared her throat, beginning again. “Usually, I’m happy, in love even. Today though… I’m not sure there’s a way to go about discussing it.”

Draco carefully reached forward as he saw a single tear slipping down her cheek, catching it with the pad of his thumb. Ginny turned watery eyes on his and he felt his throat close up, remembering everything in a fresh wave of hurt all over again.

“Is that what you’re here for?” he asked quietly. “To tell me, after all this time that you’re unhappy?”

Ginny stiffened, suddenly pushing herself up from the settee and rising to her feet, taking a few steps towards the windows, her arms still crossed protectively in front of herself as she tried to even out her breathing. Draco sighed behind her, reaching up to run his hands distractedly through his blond locks. “I’m not trying to offend you, Gin, but you must know how this looks, after all this time, coming here in tears, his wedding ring still on your finger.”

“Would you have me take it off?” she asked in a clipped voice.

Draco stared at her in shock, his hand falling at once to his side as she turned around to face him, anger flashing behind the sheen of tears in her eyes.

“I didn’t come here to throw away my marriage or tempt you away from yours,” she spat, her voice still shaking so that she was forced to avert her gaze and attempt to regain her composure before facing him once more. “How dare you…” she breathed, “After years of knowing me, how dare you think I would be capable of something like that.”

Draco stood to his own feet in one swift motion, his eyes narrowed coldly at the woman before him. “Knowing you? Years?” he scoffed. “It was eleven months, Ginevra, and I didn’t know you at all. I certainly never thought you would be cruel enough to tear yourself right out of my life like a bloody dagger, not even a word of explanation!” he spat, his eyes wild and unhinged. “I don’t know you at all. Frankly, I haven’t any idea what you’re capable of!”

Ginny flinched away from the sound of his shouting, failing to stifle the small sob that caught itself in her throat. Draco at once felt his fists unclench, his expression softening and guilt ramming into his core. He quietly crossed the room towards her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her into himself, hating the sound of her crying and unsteady breaths for air. She leaned heavily against him, as if hoping his skin would wrap around her and envelop her as another part of himself, wanting to be rid of her own life, her life without him.

She swiped at her wet cheeks and her shoulders shook tremblingly. “I don’t know what I’m capable of either,” she admitted in a painfully timid voice.

Closing his own eyes, Draco lightly rubbed her bare shoulders, trying to spark some warmth in her as he leaned down to graze his lips over the top of her forehead. Swallowing carefully, he redirected the conversation with a much kinder, gentler voice, not wanting to upset her again. She was a soothing presence to him in the quiet privacy they had together, but a sharp and burning pain when she was in tears that tore at him as much as her.

“Why don’t you tell me what happened?” he asked softly.

Ginny’s shoulders sank and her words came out sharp and full of bitterness, self-inflicted it seemed by her self-deprecating tone. “I fell in love with this prat who was too decent, too perfect, too wonderful for words and then I left him for someone I thought was more of the same.”

Draco lifted a single brow, staring down at her in both amusement and confusion. “To which prat are you referring? Because, as I recall, that description could have fit us both.”

She chuckled almost darkly at that, nodding her head. “Both, then. You both utterly and absolutely ruined my life.”

“I sincerely hope that isn’t the case,” he murmured.

Ginny stared up into his shadowed gaze, not answering him. They were both silent for a few minutes and Ginny slowly pulled herself away from Draco, moving back to the black settee once more. He remained where they’d both been standing, slipping his hands deep into his pockets and sighing wearily.

“You’re killing me, Ginny.”

“I’ve been told I have that effect on people,” she quipped back, chuckling again though without even a trace of true amusement. “I’m sorry, Draco. I’m sorry I’ve dragged you into every mess up I’ve ever had.”

Draco turned back to her, smiling fondly. “Are you sure I’m not the mistake, rather than you just dragging me along? Maybe I’m the one ruining your life.”

There was a fear in his eyes that left Ginny staring, realizing that he truly thought so. She forced herself to smile up at him, shaking her head. “You weren’t the mistake,” she promised.

Draco nodded, glancing down to hide the last vestiges of his smile. “Just how long has your life been falling apart, Gin?”

She was silent and for a moment, neither spoke a word until she finally found the courage to summon her voice. “I’d bet on somewhere near twenty-six years ago was when it all began,” she whispered somberly.

“You really don’t know when to stop, do you?” he asked tiredly.

Ginny bit down on her lower lip, thinking back and wondering just why she had really come today. She had wanted closure, she reminded herself. She had wanted to see Draco again, possibly the only chance they would ever have alone together for the next twenty-six years as well. Staring down at the floral pattern of her skirt, Ginny wondered if she was getting that closure at all or only hurting Draco all over again. Glancing up at the rigid stance of his body and the shadows on his haggard face, she knew she had no right in coming to see him. He had fixed his life, he’d moved past their disastrous relationship and it seemed to be the last thing he wanted to discuss.

Feeling her aching heart press painfully against her ribs, Ginny forced down the need to tell him everything, everything she’d wanted to tell him so many years ago. She wasn’t going to get her closure, get her chance to explain why she’d left him. Saying anything more just might break him and she was unwilling to risk that a second time.

“I should go,” she whispered.

“No.”

“What?” she asked, straightening up to see him towering over her, blocking any chance of leaving the couch though his sudden closeness didn’t frighten her. She felt enclosed, held together by tape even, but she didn’t feel frightened. She stared up into his silver eyes, never leaving her own, and her heart constricted in her chest, once again wanting to tell him everything but she couldn’t.

“There’s nothing more to say, Draco,” she insisted.

He reached down to grasp her arms, lifting her only partially up from the couch and sliding down on the same cushion she’d occupied only a moment earlier, pulling her back down on top of his lap, his arms readjusting her body over his.

“Draco, I just said…”

“Nothing to say, I heard,” he said, his arms pulling her further back so that she could lean against him until she finally complied, resting her cheek just over his heart and listening to its steady, rhythmic beating.

“So now what? I just lie here and say nothing?” she asked in what she had hoped would be a cold voice but her anger had all but dissipated, sinking comfortably against him. She pillowed her face against his chest, trying not to cry all over again as he wound his fingers through her hair, not answering her for a moment.

“Draco?” she asked softly, “Draco, I said I should go.”

“For all your talking, Gin, you still haven’t told me anything I didn’t already know.”

Ginny felt her body tighten at the implication in his words, realizing he knew exactly why she had come to see him. She at once tried to push herself up from him but his arms immediately clenched around her, pulling them both up into a sitting position, his arms holding her captive against him.

“Why did you leave me, Ginny?” he whispered in an achingly soft voice.

Ginny squeezed her eyes tightly shut, willing herself to keep her breathing even. “We’ve both said more than either of us ever meant to already. Can’t we just let this one go?”

“Not if it’s the real reason you came.”

“And how do you know that’s the case at all?” Ginny asked worriedly, struggling to hide the truth reflected in her eyes from him while his arms remained like prison bars holding her in.

Draco released her with one hand, reaching up to gently touch her face, his thumb tracing the streaks her tears had left behind. “There’s nothing else I want to know,” he whispered. “There’s nothing else to settle between us. You’re right, I knew you too well to think you’d ever leave your husband and you knew how hard I would try to stay faithful to my wife.” He briefly let his eyes fall shut, looking as though he were biting the inside of his cheek to stay in control of himself, to keep from kissing her as he so desperately wanted to. He finally opened his eyes, staring into her own eyes which were wide with fear and something else, shame even.

“Please, just tell me the truth, Ginny. Tell me if it was me, or something I did.”

“It wasn’t,” she insisted, shaking her head as tears pooled in her eyes, helpless to stop them. Now that he was asking her, specifically wanting to know the secret she’d kept from him since the day she’d left him, Ginny lost her courage, unable to tell him what had truly come between them, too ashamed of herself.

“It’s in the past, let’s just leave it there.”

“Nothing’s in the past,” he insisted. “Why else do you think our children are wreaking such havoc? Because they know whatever tore us apart was never resolved, Ginny.”

“So now the fight in the Hospital Wing was my fault?” Ginny demanded angrily.

“Stop changing the subject, Ginny!” he snapped, removing his other arm that held her pinned so that he was now cupping her face with both hands, making her face him and see the raw pain etched in his features. “You can tell me, Gin. You have to tell me! Please!”

Ginny shook her head and took advantage of the absence of his hands that had once prevented her escape, pressing back against his chest and pushing herself up and away from him, seizing up her purse and moving to the door.

“Ginny, stop!” Draco cried, leaping up from the couch and seizing her hand, pulling her back and gripping her shoulders the same way he’d done years before, trying to hold her back and demanding explanations from her. She was crying the same as she had back then, struggling against him as he pulled her roughly against his chest where she dissolved into further tears.

“I c-can’t tell you, Draco! Merlin knows I want to, but I c-can’t s-say it!”

“Why?” he breathed. “If you won’t tell me why you left, then at least tell me why you won’t say anything now!”

Ginny shook her head back and forth, hating herself more than she ever had in her entire life. She should have never come to see him; she was only making them both miserable and she hadn’t resolved a damn thing. “I’m s-sorry… I just c-can’t…” she sniffled.

Draco pulled her further against himself, his entire body reacting with fear with the knowledge that she was going to leave again. She wasn’t going to tell him a thing and he was going to have to watch her walk out that door all over again. Her cries quieted as he tried to soothe her, his arms clenching around her as he burrowed his face against the slope of her shoulder, inhaling her scent in an effort to recommit her to his memory. It was something musty and of spice, the remnants of her husband’s cologne that must have seeped into her skin after so many years. He struggled not to breathe it in, feeling his jaw clench and his eyes water. She used to smell like strawberries and the flowers that had littered their flat.

Without his realizing it, Draco was crying, tears falling from his eyes and falling into her red hair, browner than he remembered.

“Why are you doing this to me?” he cried, his body shaking and his hands tightly gripping her in his arms. “Can you not even give me a fragment of the truth, after all these years?”

Ginny shook her head sadly back and forth, pulling back from him after a trembling sigh, staring up into his eyes as she reached up to lightly touch his face. “I hate myself far too much to make excuses now,” she whispered bitterly.

Draco’s weight sank heavily against her as he struggled to compose himself. “I want you to leave,” he murmured.

Ginny felt the blood in her veins chill at his words, struggling to breathe.

“You always got to be the one who decided when to go, when to leave and walk out on us. If you won’t tell me the truth, at least let me have this on my terms. Maybe then I’ll feel like I had even a hint of an idea why you left. Then I can have something to blame it on, whether it’s a lie or not. I want you to leave,” he repeated.

Ginny nodded and untangled herself from him, too afraid to meet his eyes though she could feel the heat of his gaze boring a hole through her soul. She carefully smoothed her blouse as she made her way towards the door, reaching up to swipe at her teary eyes before stepping out of the darkened office and into the real world, the world that she and Draco would never see each other in again.

Pausing before the door, Ginny wondered if it was worth it, if she should just tell him everything but she couldn’t. She was a fool to think she would ever have her closure, ever have the memory of her time with Draco as anything other than painful and heartbreaking. She reached out for the handle and turned it, opening the door and taking the final steps to cross the threshold and leave him. Their eyes met one last time, and Ginny swallowed back the truth that was attempting to claw its way up her throat.

Softly closing the door behind her, Ginny resignedly leaned her forehead against the smooth wood, trying not to cry. “I’m sorry,” she whispered into the nothingness of the outer office, so quietly not even his secretary could overhear. “I’m sorry, Draco.”