Fall, fall, fall

Fall, fall, fall

Draco Malfoy lay on his back listening to the quiet breathing of his

dorm mates. Midnight had come and gone, and the world surrounding him

was black and cold. The weather seemed to mirror how he was feeling.

Draco couldn't get to sleep and had long since given up on trying. With

a sigh, he left the room, a cloak wrapped around his shoulders. He

walked quietly, his bare feet making no sound in the deserted

corridors. Draco did not know why he had brought his cloak with him. It

offered him no warmth that he could feel. He was numb, and it was

rotting him away from the inside out.

For a week now sleep had evaded him, and for this Draco was thankful.

Whenever he closed his eyes, they burned with the image of her. Her

face tilted up, looking expectant. Her full lips, pouting in

disappointment. The soft curve of the smile meant only for him.

Draco's feelings of emptiness only intensified as he slid down the wall

of the Astronomy Tower. He thought of her, of her freckles, her smiles,

her deep brown eyes, the swish of her wine coloured hair. Draco was too

numb to notice the tears that slid silently down his face as he stared

out into the night.

He remembered the first time he had spoken to her properly. She had

been taken aback by his manner, he had made her blush. At that very

instant, as her cheeks pinkened, he had known what it was to love. And

from that moment on, he had loved her.

He remembered the first time they had made love, in the empty Charms

classroom. He had been her first and she was anxious and nervous before

they started. He had managed to relax her, talking to her softly. She

could sense the love in his voice. He had told her his love in the most

eloquent way he knew how. He had shown her how beautiful she was to

him, how perfect she was.

Now though, Draco scorned himself. This was where love had gotten him,

sitting alone at the top of a tower in the middle of the night. Yet

through all of it, he knew he still loved her, he knew he always would.

Love was when you couldn't get her off your mind, even when the

memories nearly drove you mad, and the loneliness threatened to push

you off the edge. Love was when you could see her when you closed your

eyes. Love was when through all the hurt and pain in the world, she

made you happy. Love was when you put up with people and circumstances

you hated, just because she had asked you to. Love was when you wanted

to die, just to forget about her, forget about the empty space she left

behind, but were prepared to kill anyone, just for daring to hurt her.

Love was when you didn't feel whole unless she was close by, until you

had her in your arms. Love was a weakness.

His father had taught him that love was a weakness. Draco had forgotten

that with her, and by the time he remembered, it was almost too late.

He needed to push her away from him, he was endangering her by loving

her. So why did it hurt so much when she had stood there, disbelieving

at first, and then cried, with no shame. He had wanted to scoop her up,

protect her from the ugliness and unhappiness in the world, but he knew

all she needed protecting from was him. And so he had walked away, his

heart screaming in anguish.

That had been a week ago, and Draco had become dead to the world since

then. He felt nothing, saw nothing but her, and lived for nothing. If

love was a weakness, then why did he want to die just to stop thinking

of her, just to stop the guilt and remorse?

Draco moved to the edge of the tower, the strong wind whipping his

robes. His cloak fell from his back, and the wind went straight through

him. Still, Draco felt nothing.

Suddenly, a small, warm hand slipped into his, and a head rested on his

shoulder. Draco turned slowly. He looked down in amazement. She stood

in front of him, her brown eyes meeting his slate ones. He saw in her

eyes the same despondence he was feeling. She leaned upwards, pressing

her lips to his. Draco tasted her again, almost moaning with pleasure

as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Together, they stepped back

into the tower, not breaking the kiss. Draco moved slowly away from

her, but kept her firmly in his grasp.

"I love you," he said finally.

"I know." Ginny Weasley smiled.