Well, This Will Have To Do

1

"Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you're going to get"

Forest Gump

All good books, as Hermione tells me, start with a good last sentence. Why, she asks me, would you read a book if the last sentence, the single most important words, are not well written? She insists that every good story is to have a lesson, a truth, and a point for being written. But, how do you start a book when you know not yet the ending? Such as it is when you start life. You make it your best; put your effort into it to try to come up with a good product. But do we ever know how it will end? Does it ever really end?

The papers that displease you in your book can be torn and discarded with, like they never really existed. But in life not all memories can be discarded, even the awful ones. I wish they could, I wish I could crumple them up and throw them out, and start from scratch. But how, when this isn't possible, can one get back on track? When wrong choices are made you can't just rewrite them to your suiting. They just are.

My book, dull and unadventurous, was a perfectly written piece until he ventured into my life. And then he filled the pages with glorious things, pages of memories and hidden desires. Then just like that the book plummeted, the character doomed, unsure of how to fix what had been written. So where must I start to reach my perfect last sentence? Ah, November 7^th, 1998.

Sixth year had begun passing by dully, as all years before; uneventful as of yet and no more difficult than the previous years. Now, before continuing on, I should tell you that my book wasn't always pleasant. There are pages of black, pages I'd rather forget, pages that can't be thrown away.

It was on this day, a little over six years after I had first imprinted my name into those blank pages. The sun had risen extra early this morning and was silently creeping its way onto my face. The onlooker was amused by the serene warm look on my face.

"Ginny," he whispered shaking my gently. "Ginny, you need to get up now. Big Quidditch match today."

I squinted up one eye, startled to find the Gryffindor Quidditch Captain in my dormitory. Although the surrounding girls, who had arisen to the sun as well, found this amusing and smothered their giggles, I went about as if it was normal.

"Five more minutes, Harry," I joked falling back onto my downy sheets.

"Very funny, Ginny," he sighed coming up to the foot of my bed. He grabbed for my arm and attempted to yank me up. "You're going to be late, and then you'll be in a bad mood again."

"I'm never in a bad mood," I persisted as I groggily sat up, silently thanking the heavens that I hadn't let my hair out of its sloppy bun last night.

"Right, Gin," he started and he opened my bed hangings wider to let light flow into my room. "The team is meeting in the common room in 10, so hurry up."

"Ten minutes!" I yelled frantically hurrying out of bed. "Harry, you prat, why didn't you wake me up?"

"Gin, I've been trying for the past seven minutes!" he said shocked at my sudden abrupt change.

"Harry, out! I have to get ready!" I restlessly pushed him out the door and heard him walk clumsily down the steps.

"Wow, Ginny, only November and you've already got guys up in your room." Emily Parker smirked from her bed in the corner. The other occupants broke into nervous giggles, despite the glare I was sending them, and slowly made their way to get ready as well.

Nearly 11 minutes later I was racing down the stares, my robes pulled tightly about me. When I stumbled onto the bottom landing I was heaving for air and attempted to pull my hair back tighter into the pony tail it was already persistently poking out of.

"Wow, sis," Ron started crossing him arms across his chest. "Only a minute late or so."

"Shove it, Ronald Weasley," I snarled at him and made to stand up straight.

"Well," Harry put in, "shall we get going?"

They sauntered into the Great Hall as a team, Harry leading naturally. Gryffindors who were in there clapped most approvingly. I followed shortly behind them, enough to be recognized as the team, but yet enough to be myself. I didn't have the natural grace of Harry, the determination of my brother Ron, I didn't even posses the quick eye as our newest chaser Allison did. I was just Ginny, and fortunately that was enough for them, enough for our team.

I attempted to distance myself from them as I sat down, but Harry snuck his way over to me. Sitting across from me he smiled broadly. God, what a gorgeous smile. While not obsessive like in my younger years I still held a slight adoration for Harry. I loved it when he laughed, it made me feel calm. And I would still turn a tinge of red when he addressed me personally.

"Potter, looking forward to losing?" the all too familiar drawl said from a few feet above my head. Standing above me was Draco Malfoy. His blonde hair hung limp today (probably to keep him warmer) and was dangling in his face temptingly. His grayish eyes glimmered with amusement and his mouth twitched up slightly at the corners. His soft pale complexion was complimented thanks to his dark green Quidditch robes. Draco was tall and loomed masculinity above me.

I turned my head back toward Harry who was busy trying to stare Malfoy down. Say something Ginny, a voice said, you know exactly what you want to say.

"We've always been ready to lose, Malfoy." The words hung foreign off my tongue, for I was not use to speaking much, or so harshly. "You've just always deprived us of the pleasure."

His cloudy stare turned down on me. "Who are you?" he spat looking at me like he had something of unmountable distaste in his mouth.

This fired up my grill and I scoffed heavily as I stood. "If you've never taken the time to learn of my existence then why should I take the time to acknowledge it to you?" He just continued to stare at me but I didn't flinch under it like so many.

"Red hair, hand-me down robes, I don't need acknowledgement. You must be a Weasley."

"Ten points for creativity in that statement, Malfoy, I applaud you. But I have a match to attend to, and as you so kindly put it, to lose." I went to sweep past him, but my casual streak was running vibrantly through me this morning and I paused to whisper in his ear. "Dealing with Malfoys comes second-nature in my family, but, unfortunately for you, dealing with ignorant pricks that persist to mock their youngest and only sister comes first-nature to my brothers." And left him, slightly panicked, standing in the Great Hall trying to gulp down my words.

The air tugged playfully at my vibrant reddish-orange curls. The game was nearly ready to begin and both opposing teams stood facing each other on the field, wondering what was taking so long. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed several Slytherins staring at me curiously. Honestly, had my presence not been known to so many?

Finally, frustrated, I pulled the band from my hair (as it was very unhelpful), and let my short locks toss about my face in the wind. Right before the whistle was blown I noticed two very handsome captains looking at me out of the corner of their eyes. I blushed slightly and kicked off the ground, receiving the quaffle very soon after I did so.

Flying was of such easy nature to me that I could easily hold the quaffle and remain steady on the broom. Quidditch tactics and plays ran through my head like common speech patterns and I played them out beautifully. The game, easily (and shortly), won we headed back down to the ground. My feet touched the ground deeming me back to reality. A light November rain had begun and I heard muffled cheers from the crowd through the haze.

I had begun heading back to the changing rooms with the rest of the team when a hand took a hold of my arm. I spun around quickly taking the person slightly off guard.

"Virginia Allison Weasley, born January 10^th 1981 to Molly and Arthur Weasley," he stated bored.

"You done?" I asked snippety, surprised he would have received such information on me in a short amount of time.

"I've heard about you, but I never remember seeing you about," he went on as if the two of us could maintain a casual conversation. I rolled my eyes and was about to comment when the sun poked through a grey cloud and shone onto his face. I took this moment to observe his features. Draco Malfoy's face had a proud poise about it, probably from his years of up-bringing. His brilliant eyes hid all emotion well, and below them resided his well crafted nose. His mouth was turned in the slight start of his trademark smirk and I noted, that when he did this, his very blonde eyebrow would go up subconsciously to make him appear cunning, when that was not to be the impression at all.

"Maybe you need to pay closer attention," I said letting the words stumble out of my mouth. I could see his face was beginning to glow with amusement, but I turned from him and stalked off to the dressing rooms without another word exchanged.

"How could anyone stand that ignorant boy?" I shouted angrily as I walked with Hermione to lunch. "I mean, does he always think he's right?"

"Ginny," she said, "haven't you been brought up to hate him? Haven't you've heard what Ron has always told you about him?"

"Yes," I said brushing the fact aside. "But it's not as if I've talked to him until now. And you can't always trust that Ron's statements will be completely true."

"I wouldn't think one simple encounter with Malfoy could make anyone so upset," Hermione put in as an after thought, opening the oak doors to the hall. One would wonder why that simply little encounter had enraged me so much. Perhaps it was the fact that he had never even known of my existence before now. Or maybe it was the fact that he was as bold as to pretend like he knew it all along. Or maybe, prodded a voice in my head, it's because he's so handsome it should be illegal. Or maybe not, I convinced myself.

I seated myself at the Gryffindor table absentmindedly across from Harry and Ron.

"Great game today, sis," Ron congratulated me not taking his eyes off his food.

"Yea, good work out there, Gin," Harry said before turning back to his recent conversation with Ron.

"So, Gin," Hermione said turning to face me. "Do we need to get you your own Malfoy watch set up or are you going to be okay?"

"I may not talk much, or stand up for myself much, Hermione," I said picking at my toast before looking up to her. "But the last thing I'll do is let a Malfoy get the best of me."

"You have to admit," Emily confided in us that night while crawling under her covers in the dormitory. "He is really cute."

"Sexy would be the more appropriate word," Jasmine put in crawling into the comfort of her own bed.

"You two are hopeless, honestly!" I sighed exasperated.

"Come on, Gin," Emily started propping herself up on her elbows. "How many times in a lifetime do you come across someone like that?"

"He is not that cute okay?" I tried to reassure them, and myself. "Besides, he's my family's sworn enemy, and if he persists to pick on me like my brother I'll take matters into my own hands."

"Emily, I can hear your mind forming a plan from over here," Jasmine said giddily sitting up straighter.

"I was just thinking that if he doesn't leave our dear Ginny alone, it might be time to play tough."

"What do you have in mind?" Jasmine asked eagerly.

"Just keep us updated, Gin," Emily said as she reached over to blow out her light. "If it gets too bad I've got the perfect solution for you."

"Oh, this will be a fun year," Jasmine squealed before blowing out her light.

I groaned and rolled over on my bed. I reached my mouth closer to the wick and let the breath escape my lips, plunging my world into darkness.

I didn't crawl out of bed until nearly 10 the next morning. Emily and Jasmine had already disappeared down to breakfast. I glanced out the window and noticed the grounds littered with students taking advantage of the warm day outside. I quickly got dressed and headed down into the nearly empty common room. In the corner near the fire, propped in an armchair fast asleep was Harry Potter. His untidy black hair fell over the hand his head was resting on and his glasses lay neglected on the nearby table. I wandered over to him and picked them up, then set myself lightly on the couch right next to the chair.

"Tired a bit?" I asked and he stirred awake. He squinted, but it was hopeless because he couldn't see a thing. I handed him his glasses and he put them on quickly stifling a yawn.

"Hey, Ginny," he said realizing who had waken him. "Must've dozed off," he admitted shyly. "Seventh year isn't the easiest you know."

"I would suppose not," I said in my most sincere voice.

"I'm not sure what will be left, but would you like to go see what we can find for breakfast?" he asked rising slowly to his feet.

"Sounds like fun," I said and took his offering hand to help me up off the couch.

"You know, Ginny," Harry started as we made our way down the deserted staircase. "Ron was right, you really have grown up."

"Is that a good thing, Harry?" I laughed slightly.

"It's a real good thing, Gin," he said peering at me out of the corner of his eye. An awkward moment passed before Harry stopped me in my tracks and turned to face me. "Ginny, Ron would absolutely kill me if he knew this...."

Great way to start, Harry, I remarked sarcastically to myself.

"....but I've liked you for a quite a bit now. You've grown up, a lot. And your really quite fun to be around. You're really quiet, but I like that, because it keeps me guessing on what you're like."

"What are you saying, Harry?" My stomach was doing tremendous flip-flops. Oh, Ginny, what have you done?

"Gin, if it's okay with you, I'd like to get to know you better...." I could tell he was stumbling, looking for the right words. "I'd like to be more than just friends...."

Were we ever friends? I thought in confusion. Do we really need that step?

"Harry, why don't you just ask me?" I said, surprised at my own boldness.

He laughed slightly looking more relaxed and continued, "would you like to go out with me, Gin?"

"I'd love to, Harry," I said smiling boldly and throwing my arms around his neck.

He chuckled slightly and then pulled back slowly. "That's a real relief, Gin." He smiled at me.

"Just because I haven't been falling at your feet these past few years?" I joked.

"That might have something to do with it. Now how are we going to tell Ron?"

"Oh," I sighed. "Well, he's daft to a lot of things. Like the fact that he's madly in love with Hermione. Hermione's not stupid, except in the same department; so I say we see how long we can get away with it."

"A Romeo and Juliet thing," Harry commented, "I like it."

"Only this one has a happy ending."

"But it is never the destiny of anything to have a happy ending," he chuckled as I encircled my arms around his waist.

"Then we, Harry James Potter, will make our own destiny."

That's kind of how it went for a few days. Harry and I were always throwing glances at each other and holding hands in the abandoned hallways when we found time. Harry started kissing me on the cheek after about two days, but that was the most. We rarely ever got time to talk if we didn't want to arouse suspicion. We thought we were doing quite well, until the most unlikely person noticed.

Ron and Hermione were already in the Great Hall enjoying lunch. Harry and I were standing a little hidden from the rush, but nearly everyone was in the Great Hall. We weren't really saying much, just enjoying each others company and presence.

"Got tired of snogging in classrooms?" the familiar drawl came from behind Harry. "I mean, you must have a very stupid friend, Potter," he continued. "To not even notice you undressing his sister with your eyes."

"We get it, Malfoy, you caught on, congratulations," Harry spat bitterly. "Come on, Ginny," he said and took my wrist lightly and started past Malfoy.

"Don't know how you can stand someone that's been so tainted," he spat softly, but I heard him all the same.

I turned, taking my open palm with me, so fast it knocked both boys off guard. My white palm burned hot when it made contact with his face, but I shook it off and smirked slowly. "That, you son of a bitch, was most uncalled for. My mum always told me not to hit girls, Malfoy, but I always make an exception."

I laughed hollowly and Harry and I made our way into the Great Hall for lunch, leaving Malfoy to stare after me his mouth slightly open.