Wedding Days Mean Happy Endings

The delighted babble from the reception drifted through the silk curtains breezily, an onto the unoccupied balcony. Well, almost unoccupied. Ginny Weasley was swirling the last of her champagne around in her crystal glass, and staring nonchalantly out onto the smoky blue sky, dotted with diamond-like stars, each of them, it seemed to Ginny anyway, winking patronizingly.

She hated weddings.

She knew how unusual that was for someone of her temperament. She was a romantic at heart, always had been, but something about the sugary atmosphere made her feel... unwanted. As though she didn't belong in that environment. She wanted to, of course, but there was a difference between belonging, and wanting to belong.

She sighed heavily, and drank the last of her champagne, resigning herself to re- enter the mindlessly romantic babble of the reception. Before she had a chance to turn around, a cool voice drifted past, all too familiar.

"Not socializing tonight?"

She closed her eyes briefly, allowing the words to wash over her and took a deep breath before twisting her neck around calmly.

"Hello Draco."

He stepped out onto the balcony, no longer half hidden by the curtain, and she held back a sigh as he came into full view. He gave a small half- smile, and strutted across to the edge, stopping next to her.

She smiled at the all too familiar swagger, which he had never lost. He'd kept it all through Hogwarts, all through the war, even when he'd swapped sides, he'd still maintained his arrogance. Nothing had managed to rid him of that. It was a tiny speck of continuity, but it was something, and it comforted her.

"Weird isn't it?" he said, half to himself, using a hand to brush down his suit.

It was irritating, how he managed to make such a simple movement seem elegant.

She didn't answer him, instead just watching him out of the corner of her eye. He glanced over at her.

"Weasley and Mione I mean," he elaborated.

"You can't say that anymore," she replied. "They're both Weasley now."

He gave a dry laugh. "Yeah, I suppose."

"And it is weird," she said, answering his original question. "But in a saw-it-coming-all-along-really kind of way."

Another dry laugh.

"Do you think this means they'll stop arguing?" he said, and the laughter lacing his tone practically answered his question itself.

She allowed her face to break into the first full smile of the evening. Of course, as bridesmaid, she'd been smiling constantly, but purely for show. This was the first time she'd actually smiled because she wanted to. He seemed to realize this, and grinned to himself.

He hadn't really spoken to Ginny properly for a couple of years or so. They'd both been wrapped up in themselves, desperately rebuilding their lives after the Second War. Everyone had suddenly realized the true finality of it. It was over. For good. He was gone, and that was that. And it had taken everyone a large amount of time to adjust.

Everyone had there own way of rebuilding themselves, and because of this, he hadn't really had any correspondence with the youngest Weasley.

He couldn't be blamed alone though. After all, yes, he had been wrapped up in his job. Teaching Defence Against The Dark Arts at Hogwarts took up most of his time, but Ginny had her editorial duties for Witch Weekly to occupy her. It was almost impossible for them to keep in touch, their paths never crossed.

Until now anyway.

He regarded her out of the corner of his eye. Her fiery curls scooped up elegantly into an up-do, still framing her pale face, and sharp green eyes. The way her tiny figure fitted into the forest green bridesmaid gown perfectly, skimming her curves, and nipping in, in all the right places. He was so busy watching her, he failed to notice she was doing exactly the same thing to him.

He had always been handsome, she admitted to herself grudgingly. But in a suit, it seemed that everything she had once liked about him was suddenly accentuated. The sharp features, the sleek golden hair, which he had thankfully changed from his slicked back style, to a mussed up, more casual one. The broad shoulders, and evident muscle from the Quidditch training. Everything she had loved about him before hit her again, and she forced herself to look away before it was too late.

He leant forward, and peered over the edge of the balcony.

"It was a nice wedding wasn't it?" he said coolly.

"Yeah... gorgeous."

Her non- committal reply provoked a small smirk from him.

"I'd never have imagined being involved in it though. Never in a million years."

"You were only an usher," she said, trying to put some distance between them. He simply smirked wider.

"Yeah, but it's still more than I'd ever expect from those two, y'know? I mean... I was a dickhead to them."

She lowered her head and stared into the bottom of her wine glass silently.

"Don't rush to disagree," he said, disguising his annoyance with a fake laugh.

She merely shrugged.

"Ok... I disagree...they weren't the only people you were a dickhead to."

He paused for a minute, weighing up how best to respond to this blatant reference to the past.

"The war did funny things to people."

"It did indeed."

He chanced another glance at her. She was still leaning over the edge of the balcony, staring into the bottom of her glass.

"Ginny-" he began, and then stopped.

No-one else made him lost for words.

She looked at him enquiringly as his silence stretched out.

"Yeah?"

He sighed, staring at the ground below them. Arthur Weasley and some of his friends from work were standing outside, a few of them with cigars. The swirls of smoke drifted up to the balcony where they were, barely visible, twisting and merging with the night air as they rose.

"Ginny, if things were-"

"Different," she finished dryly, and he realised how pathetic he sounded.

"But they're not," he drawled.

A roar of laughter smashed through the serenity of the thoughtful silence, and they both sighed. No doubt, Fred and George had delivered an impromptu speech and embarrassed their younger brother hugely. Draco stole a quick glance at Ginny, suddenly remembering how Fred and George were now her two eldest brothers.

Sometimes the reality of the losses of the war left his mind for a while, as he hadn't really lost anyone he had been that close to. That was what happened when you turned against your family and changed sides, he guessed. But occasions like this hit him hard, and made him realize his lack of ability to empathize at times.

She laughed lightly, and it took him a while to realize why. He grinned dryly when he realized... the music was drifting out onto the balcony, and the song was none other than I've Had The Time Of My Life.

Draco shook his head helplessly. "Shockingly cheesy."

She nodded, smiling wryly.

"But what do I know?" he continued. "Bitter, twisted singleton like me."

"You aren't twisted," she said softly. He let out a bark- like laugh, reminiscent of Sirius.

"You know something?" he drawled softly. "I don't even know what it's like to be in love." He paused, and the complicated silence enveloped them for a moment.

He didn't know why he was saying it. He didn't have a clue what was making him say something that was so completely unnecessary, and in a way, unkind. But for some reason, his instincts were telling him to put some distance between himself and her.

Draco always listened to his instincts.

"You'd think by the time I'd got to this age I would have some experience of it," he mused, watching her expression intently.

She knew what he was doing, and she hated him for it. She hated the way he was killing her, and could do it under the pretence of innocence, because she would never tell him. She'd never let him know.

It was the ultimate punch in the stomach, and she couldn't even retaliate.

She shrugged. "Well wait until you are. You won't know what's hit you." She never broke the eye contact, it was her own private battle with him, and if she looked away she'd lose.

His icy eyes continued to meet hers, refusing to look away, and almost without realizing, the space between them seemed to materialise away, as they drifted closer to one another...

"Ginny I've got a really early start tom... oh."

They both jumped away from each other, the few centimetres between them becoming metres in mere seconds as the familiar voice broke the serenity.

"Harry!" said Ginny sweetly. "What was that?"

Harry threw Draco a slightly suspicious look, before turning back to Ginny.

"I said I've got a really early start tomorrow, so can we head off?"

"I don't mind," she said smiling. "It's up to you."

"Ok then, can we go?"

She nodded at once. "Yeah that's fine." She set her glass down on the ledge, and walked over to Harry quickly. He slipped an arm around her slim waist, throwing another suspicious glance at Draco who was standing by the edge of the balcony, a dry smile playing on the corners of his lips.

He nodded at Harry, who returned it curtly.

"Malfoy."

"Potter."

Ginny turned and looked over her shoulder towards Draco.

"It was nice catching up Draco," she called lightly.

He smirked. "Yeah, it was."

"See you later," she said as Harry steered her back through the door.

Draco turned back to the balcony edge, still smirking slightly, and raised one eyebrow.

"I doubt it."