“Aren’t you embarrassed to be losing so badly to a Weasley?”
“How do you figure that I’m losing?”
“Well, we’re on the eight hole and my score is a twenty,” Ginny explained with a cheeky grin. “You, however, are at a thirty-four!”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Where I come from, high scores win.”
Ginny rolled her eyes. “Not in golf, you ponce!” She smacked him playfully. “Here, now let me help you. You’ll need to square up your shoulders and tap the ball gently. The idea is to get the ball into the hole. See?”
Draco gave her a meaningful glare, but did as she said. He tapped the ball into the hole. He stretched and placed the club over his shoulder. “I just was unfamiliar with this Muggle sport, that’s all.”
The redhead smiled. “This is the most fun I’ve had in ages.”
He took a seat on a nearby bench and stared at Ginny for a long moment. He crossed his arms over his chest. “So, are you going to talk about it now?”
Ginny’s smile faltered. “No.”
“Weasley, don’t you think that you’ll feel better?”
“No!” she stalked over to him. “This is supposed to be my little excursion to make you feel better, not the other way around. And how does telling you how my husband died, thus bringing up some very painful memories, make anyone feel better? It won’t, and I can’t, so drop it.”
The blond narrowed his eyes. “Fine.” He stood, intending to go back to his golf club and continue on with their game, but a hand at his arm halted him. “Let go, Weasley, I just want to finish this game and get on with my life.”
“I shouldn’t have jumped on you like that.”
“No, you shouldn’t have, but it’s fine.” He nodded in the direction of the café. “Let’s get coffee, yeah?”
She nodded solemnly, and the pair of them walked away from the golf course. When she had proposed to Draco that they go for a game of mini-golf, he had looked at her like she had grown a few extra heads. But then he had reluctantly agreed and they had gone and had a great time together. It made her feel good to make someone else smile for a change. It had been so long since anyone had actually enjoyed her company and she knew it.
They sat down at a high table in the café after each ordering their coffee. A comfortable silence stretched between them for a long while, but then Draco slid a folded up piece of parchment across the table to her.
“What’s this?” she asked, eyeing the paper reluctantly.
“Just open it, will you?”
She did as he had requested, and was initially quite surprised about what was on the inside of the parchment. On the paper, in sloppy, slanted script was a note. She recognized the handwriting immediately as her own.
Ginny,
If you’re reading this letter now, that could only mean one thing. You’ve talked to Draco Malfoy. And please, don’t be angry with him. He is only doing what he’s told. He had to wait until the time was right to give you this letter.
It’s time to move on now. You have to make a special place in your heart for Harry and move on, but the only way you’ll do that is with help. The man beside you knows what regret feels like, and more than anything, the two of you need each other. Help each other and re-learn what it means to love someone. You don’t always need to be the strong one, Ginny. It’s okay to ask for help sometimes, and it’s okay to know when to move on. I promise you that Harry won’t hate you for falling in love.
You will find one more letter from me, although I will not tell you when or where. Just know that I’ll be in touch with one final instruction.
Take care.
“You – you knew,” Ginny whispered incredulously after staring at the letter for a long moment. “When I came to see you that first time, you bloody well knew what I was there for, didn’t you?”
“No!” Draco answered quickly. “Well, yes.”
“Then why did you act like that? Why were you so cold and hurtful? Why did you try to push me away?”
He lifted a blond eyebrow. “You spent one year grieving over Potter. One year! Do you know how long it has been since my wife died?” He gave off a humorless laugh. “You don’t know what grief is, Ginny, and you sure as hell don’t understand real pain and suffering. For once, I want you to be the one to open up. You tell me the truth.”
Ginny looked away, his piercing grey orbs too much to look at. “I can’t talk about this anymore.”
“My wife died ten years ago, and I have spent all of that time, locked away and alone. But you want to know something, Potter? I know more about what guilt feels like than you know.”
“What do you mean?”
Draco rolled back his sleeve, revealing to her the Dark Mark, still emblazoned into his white skin. “This is the reason she’s dead. No Healers would help her because of me. Because of my poor decisions, because of my stupidity, my wife died when she was only nineteen years old.”
The redhead bit her lip and stared at him for several, long moments. He was angry and flushed and filled with pent up guilt and frustration. Sitting here with her was as hard for him as it was for her. It was time to finally tell someone the truth. It was time to finally tell someone what really happened to Harry.
“We – we went out,” she began, her voice quivering. “I insisted that we should drive through Muggle London rather than Apparate. We were on our way to the theater and were at a stoplight when a man came around and asked Harry to roll down his window. Harry – he didn’t want to. He told me that we were running late, and he was already angry at me for making him drive, but I told him to just ask the man what he wanted, and…” She couldn’t finish her sentence.
He stood up from his seat and approached Ginny, pulling her tightly against his chest. “Do you want to get out of here?”
She nodded, and he took her away from there, attracting much attention as they went.
“How do you figure that I’m losing?”
“Well, we’re on the eight hole and my score is a twenty,” Ginny explained with a cheeky grin. “You, however, are at a thirty-four!”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Where I come from, high scores win.”
Ginny rolled her eyes. “Not in golf, you ponce!” She smacked him playfully. “Here, now let me help you. You’ll need to square up your shoulders and tap the ball gently. The idea is to get the ball into the hole. See?”
Draco gave her a meaningful glare, but did as she said. He tapped the ball into the hole. He stretched and placed the club over his shoulder. “I just was unfamiliar with this Muggle sport, that’s all.”
The redhead smiled. “This is the most fun I’ve had in ages.”
He took a seat on a nearby bench and stared at Ginny for a long moment. He crossed his arms over his chest. “So, are you going to talk about it now?”
Ginny’s smile faltered. “No.”
“Weasley, don’t you think that you’ll feel better?”
“No!” she stalked over to him. “This is supposed to be my little excursion to make you feel better, not the other way around. And how does telling you how my husband died, thus bringing up some very painful memories, make anyone feel better? It won’t, and I can’t, so drop it.”
The blond narrowed his eyes. “Fine.” He stood, intending to go back to his golf club and continue on with their game, but a hand at his arm halted him. “Let go, Weasley, I just want to finish this game and get on with my life.”
“I shouldn’t have jumped on you like that.”
“No, you shouldn’t have, but it’s fine.” He nodded in the direction of the café. “Let’s get coffee, yeah?”
She nodded solemnly, and the pair of them walked away from the golf course. When she had proposed to Draco that they go for a game of mini-golf, he had looked at her like she had grown a few extra heads. But then he had reluctantly agreed and they had gone and had a great time together. It made her feel good to make someone else smile for a change. It had been so long since anyone had actually enjoyed her company and she knew it.
They sat down at a high table in the café after each ordering their coffee. A comfortable silence stretched between them for a long while, but then Draco slid a folded up piece of parchment across the table to her.
“What’s this?” she asked, eyeing the paper reluctantly.
“Just open it, will you?”
She did as he had requested, and was initially quite surprised about what was on the inside of the parchment. On the paper, in sloppy, slanted script was a note. She recognized the handwriting immediately as her own.
Ginny,
If you’re reading this letter now, that could only mean one thing. You’ve talked to Draco Malfoy. And please, don’t be angry with him. He is only doing what he’s told. He had to wait until the time was right to give you this letter.
It’s time to move on now. You have to make a special place in your heart for Harry and move on, but the only way you’ll do that is with help. The man beside you knows what regret feels like, and more than anything, the two of you need each other. Help each other and re-learn what it means to love someone. You don’t always need to be the strong one, Ginny. It’s okay to ask for help sometimes, and it’s okay to know when to move on. I promise you that Harry won’t hate you for falling in love.
You will find one more letter from me, although I will not tell you when or where. Just know that I’ll be in touch with one final instruction.
Take care.
“You – you knew,” Ginny whispered incredulously after staring at the letter for a long moment. “When I came to see you that first time, you bloody well knew what I was there for, didn’t you?”
“No!” Draco answered quickly. “Well, yes.”
“Then why did you act like that? Why were you so cold and hurtful? Why did you try to push me away?”
He lifted a blond eyebrow. “You spent one year grieving over Potter. One year! Do you know how long it has been since my wife died?” He gave off a humorless laugh. “You don’t know what grief is, Ginny, and you sure as hell don’t understand real pain and suffering. For once, I want you to be the one to open up. You tell me the truth.”
Ginny looked away, his piercing grey orbs too much to look at. “I can’t talk about this anymore.”
“My wife died ten years ago, and I have spent all of that time, locked away and alone. But you want to know something, Potter? I know more about what guilt feels like than you know.”
“What do you mean?”
Draco rolled back his sleeve, revealing to her the Dark Mark, still emblazoned into his white skin. “This is the reason she’s dead. No Healers would help her because of me. Because of my poor decisions, because of my stupidity, my wife died when she was only nineteen years old.”
The redhead bit her lip and stared at him for several, long moments. He was angry and flushed and filled with pent up guilt and frustration. Sitting here with her was as hard for him as it was for her. It was time to finally tell someone the truth. It was time to finally tell someone what really happened to Harry.
“We – we went out,” she began, her voice quivering. “I insisted that we should drive through Muggle London rather than Apparate. We were on our way to the theater and were at a stoplight when a man came around and asked Harry to roll down his window. Harry – he didn’t want to. He told me that we were running late, and he was already angry at me for making him drive, but I told him to just ask the man what he wanted, and…” She couldn’t finish her sentence.
He stood up from his seat and approached Ginny, pulling her tightly against his chest. “Do you want to get out of here?”
She nodded, and he took her away from there, attracting much attention as they went.
Author notes: Secrets will be revealed in the next chapter, which will be posted very soon! Thanks for reading :)
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