The Unbelievable Interlude

Ginny Weasley sat quietly on the roof of the Astronomy Tower, looking up at the deep indigo sky dotted with glittering diamonds. This was the third night this week she could be found atop the tall tower, looking as though she was listening to the sky speak to her. She stared up at it, truly wishing it could talk to her, answer some of her questions that, she assumed were born of nothing more than teenage angst. However, the sky remained silent. This didn't really bother Ginny. The night sky was the most calming influence she'd ever had in her life. Not that this was surprising, growing up around all of her brothers, then coming to Hogwarts which, though it was quite wonderful, was a bundle of adventures and stressful schoolwork and good-natured mischief. But the night sky always made her feel home, as though she belonged wherever she happened to be when looking up at it. Yes, the night sky was wonderful just the way it was. She just truly needed someone to talk to whom she had faith would understand. Not that she deluded herself to the point that she thought no other teenage girl had ever felt this way. In reality, they probably all did, but the one drawback of being the solitary soul that she was was that when you spent so much time around no one, it began to feel like there wasn't anyone else to compare yourself to. Not that she didn't think she had friends. She had Colin and Maria (her best friend in the world, with whom she shared a dormitory) and of course she had her brothers and Hermione; even Harry, to an extent. But Harry, Hermione and Ron were undoubtedly somewhere about the castle, getting into danger with little time for anything but one another. Maria, for all that Ginny loved her, was totally different from Ginny and could normally find the answers to her problems by surrounding herself with people and laughing her troubles away. And Colin, well...things with Colin and herself were always tinged with a big of hesitancy Not that she minded being with Colin, quite the opposite. And she had always known of his crush on her, and that didn't make her feel awkward; in reality, it made her feel rather pretty and good. But she was always careful never to say things to Colin to lead him on, because, though it would make life much easier (on both him and her), she did not return his feelings.

No, what Ginny really felt was misunderstood by just about everyone. She felt no one really knew her, not that she ever tried to really let anyone in. She had very intense emotions, and was rather proud of her passionate heart and her ability to feel things so easily and deeply, but she felt few people could relate, and that kept her from really opening up. She just couldn't pour out her soul to someone who couldn't possibly understand her. It would take too much explaining of things she didn't quite understand. And if there was one thing Ginny was good at, it was knowing people without their knowledge of it. She'd learned that skill from a master.

She had once told her mother much of what she felt. Isolated, on edge, between worlds almost. She had relayed her feelings for Harry, which had receded almost to nonexistent, but were still there. She had realized, however, that no matter how much she wished, even Harry, for all his past and bravery and courage, couldn't even relate to how she truly felt. That realization had left her reeling. After all, if the person she viewed as the most perfect in the world couldn't possibly understand her, what probability was there that anyone truly could. Her mother had smiled, a tad sadly perhaps, but very knowingly.

She had patted Ginny's hand and said, "Sometimes, Virginia, we find inspiration in unexpected places. You can't look for it, and you can't will it to come. It just comes. And if it helps any at all, I truly believe you'll recognize it without difficulty when it comes to you, my darling."

Ginny had found a sort of peace in those words, but almost six months had passed since them and that peace had begun to evaporate into a worry that perhaps inspiration was avoiding her, because she felt a bit more desperate for it every day. And though she had tried not to look, as her mother had instructed, she couldn't help but be disappointed every night she laid her head down that another day had passed totally devoid of it.

Ginny was so absorbed in her thoughts that she hadn't heard the door to the roof open behind her. Only when she heard the exclamation, "Bloody hell!" did she turn around. She was completely unstartled, so deep were here feelings of wondering and loneliness. She stared at the figure had spoken, and with no small amount of surprise, found herself staring into the silver eyes of Draco Malfoy. He stood, looking at her with shock and not a little bit of resentment, as if she had intruded on his revelry and not the other way around.

Malfoy, to Ginny, wasn't as much of a threat as he was to all the others she hung around with. Yes, he was quite hateful, but Ginny was quite aware when someone was overcompensating for something, and the aura of it hung all over him every minute of the day. So, when he demanded, "What the Hell are you doing here, Weasley?" she just looked at him placidly and replied,

"Thinking."

"Well could you think somewhere that is, preferably, not within a hundred yards of me?" he spat acidly.

"Of course. Turn around, walk a hundred yards away. Easy enough isn't it?" she said, evenly.

"I'm not leaving. You can get up and march right back down to wherever it is you Gryffindors dwell and let me alone." He seemed frustrated and almost desperate. Ginny could feel the feelings emanating from him. They confused her slightly, but she didn't move.

"Nope," said Ginny, benignly.

"No?" he squawked indignantly. "You're telling me no?"

"In all actuality, I was telling you 'nope' but you seem to have grasped the gist."

"God, are all of you this insufferable. No, never mind. I know your brothers. I can answer my own question," he said, drawling his voice out smoothly.

"Good for you," Ginny answered, her gaze returning to the sky. She heard Draco sputter indignantly, but she tuned him out. She was quite aware that if he had truly been that irritated to see her there, he would've simply turned and left. He obviously was still acting, and Ginny found it tiring to know he was acting and try to talk to him. She figured if he wanted to drop his façade, he might actually make for an interesting conversation. But then again, she wasn't sure if he could drop his façade; he'd been at it so long.

"Are you going to sit down or keep glaring at me as if you hope I'll fall off just by the force of your irritability?" Ginny asked, still no note of anything but peace in her soft voice.

"Well I do wish you would spontaneously go flying over the edge of the tower, I won't deny that. But I have nowhere else I want to go at this moment, and I refuse to let you keep me from a good place to sit. So I suppose I'll be praying for the spontaneous combustion until you actually get angry enough with me to leave," he said, grudgingly taking a seat as far as possible from her on the other end of the banister. They sat in silence for a long time, both staring at the sky. When Ginny chanced a glance at Draco, he was looking up into the sky as well, his eyes unfocused and his blonde hair blowing gently in the warm breeze. He was so pale he could've been a vampire, but his paleness didn't look unhealthy. It looked more porcelain than anything else, as though too flawless to be flesh. He looked almost serene like that, and Ginny found herself wondering how often he actually got to remove all his anger and forced bitterness and just sit in silence with nature.

"Do you come up here often?" she asked, quietly.

"Shut up Weasley. You're disturbing the brilliant workings of my brain."

Ginny actually laughed a little. Then she said, "No, I'd rather not. So do you?'

Draco opened his eyes and glared daggers at her, but said nothing.

"No I don't suppose you do. Busy with being the biggest git in school to everyone and about everything. Must be exhausting, a twenty-four hour job like that. I wonder how you don't sleep every extra minute of the day, working so hard to be so nasty to people."

"How do you know it doesn't come naturally?" he said, a sneer in his voice.

"Because I do," she said with finality. There was no hint of challenge in her voice but Draco swelled at her.

"You," he hissed viciously, " know nothing about me."

"Actually I think I know quite a lot about you. Of course, I could be completely wrong, but then it wouldn't be the first time I've been completely wrong about a Slytherin."

She had meant it to be a joke, a light jab to his pride of his house, but he suddenly looked as if she had slapped him. She looked slightly uneasy, and said, "Don't look so amazed. I'm a big girl, I can joke about horrible events in my life just like everyone else. As I'm sure you can," she added, and his face took on a more familiar expression; one of distaste and disbelief. He turned his head towards the sky again and said nothing.

"So, would you like to know what I think about you?" she asked. Again, he was completely silent. She figured he hoped if he ignored her, she'd go away. Ginny however, was intrigued. Not only by the look she had caught on his face, on of completely surprise and not a little bit of shame, but of how he might react if she told him what she really thought about him. He had a feeling he'd be shocked when he heard.

"All right then," she said, almost cheerfully. "You feel slighted. I truly believe you feel slighted from life. Now, that could be a mark of worth or not. I do know that you feel slighted and angry because life has put you in a position you don't like. I do not know, however, if that position is one where you cannot behave as you'd like because you want more power or less. If it were less, that would be a definite mark of retribution. It means you would want the freedom to behave more compassionately towards others. If the case is you want more power, well you needn't me to tell you that that would be a very bad mark indeed." She hadn't really noticed when Draco began looking at her, but he was looking at her now and seemed to be torn between blinding outrage and utter indignation. The indignation gave him away, however. She had hit a mark and he was aching to refute her.

In the end however, rage won out. He got up and stomped over to her. She had never seen him stomp before, but then again, she'd never seen him this angry. She knew she should feel afraid that he might hex her at any moment, or push her cleanly off the banister, but she felt neither. She only felt interest.

"You shut up, Weasley!" he said her name as if it was cursed word, an insult. "You don't know anything about me or my life! You couldn't understand me if you tried, and I don't intend to help. So whatever opinions you harbor about me, dismiss them quickly because they are ill founded and wrong. You know nothing about me," he finished, a little breathless.

"So tell me what I need to know," she said, and though her tone was even, her eyes shone with a light of interest now that they hadn't done for many, many years.

"You don't need to know anything!" Draco shouted, his pale cheeks now tinged with pink from his anger and his outburst.

Ginny paused for a moment, then raised her eyes to look directly into his. What she saw wasn't anger or hatred, but fear and something that reminded her of reaching out for help and pulling away all at once. "So tell me what you want me to know."

Draco visibly jolted. He looked at her and his face twisted with anger, but she could tell it wasn't directed at her. He was angry at himself for wanting to share something with anyone, particularly a Weasley whom he had, before a few moments ago, hated without reason. He was comfortable with his hatred; feelings of any other sort unhinged him slightly. Ginny turned her face upward, feeling a tad confused herself. She found she couldn't watch his internal battle materializing on his face. She knew what it was like too well, to not know your bearings on yourself, and it made her feel lonely just to watch it.

While she was gazing, she heard him say something very softly, as though he had almost hoped she wouldn't hear. "You don't want to know anything about me." It wasn't cold or angry or ever sarcastic. It was honesty, without any emotion behind it.

"Yes I do," she said, with the same emotionless honesty.

To her utter astonishment, he climbed up onto the banister beside her and crossed his slender legs beneath his robes. She looked at him openly, turning her face towards him. She was his profile, perfect and even. He was a truly beautiful person, at least on the outside. Ginny knew that beauty on the outside often housed horrible things, but she had become greatly adept at knowing when not to trust beauty; almost always. She did not, however, feel untrusting towards Draco. The most part of it came from the rather obvious fact that he didn't truly revel in his beauty. He seemed all but unaware of it.

"My whole life revolves around status," he began, unabashedly. "I do everything I do for family pride. It's what drives me and what makes me what I am. I really find myself wondering how it became so important, but it is. It's everything to me. If I lost the honor of my family, I'm not really sure I'd know how to behave. Humility doesn't seem to be a strong suit of mine," he finished, and as Ginny laughed, she thought she caught the corner of his mouth quirk, almost into a smile. However, Ginny saw how he said this so truthfully. It must be strange and lonely, having something so intangible and unforgiving run your life. She was sure he didn't want to be fixed, but she couldn't help at least trying a little bit to help him see how easy it was to rebuild yourself, once you could figure out where you'd gone wrong. She'd done it often enough to know that it wasn't as hard as everyone made it out to be.

"Draco, do you love your father and mother?" she asked quietly. His jerked his head around to stare at her full on, and the expression on his face was totally surprised, and a bit guarded. She could tell he hadn't been asked that before. He took no time in answering, however.

"No. Not the slightest bit, really," he replied, dryly.

"Alright. Do you respect them a great deal...or at all?" she continued. This time he thought for a very long while, so long she wondered if he had forgotten she'd asked him anything Then,

"No. Not at all. They aren't worthy of respect or admiration, really. But they're worthy of fear. They get quite a bit of that." And at this he actually grinned. It still had a shadow of a smirk to it but it was a true grin, and Ginny fought the urge to laugh.

Ginny thought for a long time before answering him. "I don't think there's really all that much wrong with how you live your life, Draco." If she had thought it was impossible for him to look more surprised than previously, she had been mistaken.

"Pardon?" he said, astonished. "Your friends and everyone else in the world seem to think that there's a great deal wrong with it. Hell I think there's a great deal wrong-" and stopped short, his face now emotionless and shut down. He thought he'd said too much. He was trying to close her off, but she wouldn't have it.

"Living for status isn't so bad. As long as you keep a piece of your core that is for you and you alone. So that's the only part you're really missing, and in all honesty, I think you probably have that somewhere. Everyone does, it just sometimes hides away for you to find. The biggest problem is that you live for status from the wrong people." She said, calmly. "You live for status of people you don't love and don't respect. You care what people think of you, when you don't care about those people at all. Status should come from people who have earned your respect and your trust, if nothing else. You just need to adjust your barometer a few notches," she finished. He was looking at her now, with no little bit of amazement, and also appraisal. Then he grinned again.

"Well if I need to know the rainy days of the year, I'll do just that, as a barometer detects weather movements and not, if I'm not mistaken, the inner workings of one's soul," he finished, with a teasing note to his voice.

"Oh." Ginny flushed slightly. "Well, I mean...sorry wrong instrument. I meant your, oh...I don't know your-"

"Compass," Draco finished, quietly. The tone of his voice made Ginny stare. Not only that, but he'd been dead on. Of course, that didn't mean anything. Perhaps he was just good with instruments.

"Yes. Compass. Exactly. Thank you Draco," she said, a tad unnerved.

"Why is it you call me Draco when everyone else in your damned family calls me Malfoy. I actually prefer it. In all honesty, I can't think of anyone who calls me Draco," he said, starting to sound a bit like his annoyed self again.

"Because I think Malfoy is an ugly name. Draco is better," she stated simply, then added "And my family isn't damned. At least not compared to some."

"Malfoy is not an ugly name!" he said indignantly. "You should watch you-"

"I should watch you not listen to a word I just told you apparently," Ginny replied, now feeling a bit pissed off in her own right. She'd put a lot of effort into communicating clearly with him and he didn't seem to have heard a word she said. If there was one thing Ginny couldn't bear, it was to have opened up to someone only to have them treat it like it was nothing special.

"I heard. I didn't say you were right," he added, coldly.

Ginny suddenly felt very hurt, though she couldn't say why right away. Then it came to her. She had opened up to him how she felt with very little effort, something she had never done before. And he had done exactly what she always worried about when she opened up; he had treated it as if she'd done nothing spectacular. Of course, he didn't now her, so he couldn't possibly know how momentous an occasion this was. That, however, did not make it any less painful for Ginny. She felt hot tears prickling behind her eyes and was furious at herself for letting him get to her. She was so angry she wanted to hit something (specifically him) but she swallowed her anger, as she was so used to doing. It wouldn't do to let him know he'd upset her. It wouldn't do at all.

"So, what about your compass, Weasley?" he asked, his voice still hard and unfeeling. "Where does it point?" he asked this question in a mocking voice that almost made Ginny ears steam with anger. She'd tried to help him and he was using it against her. She suddenly felt with all that she was why Harry, Ron and Hermione hated him so. It didn't matter if he was acting; it was still a bloody hurtful way to behave.

"Forget it Malfoy," she spat. "I'm not telling you anything else. Sit there in silence and let me alone." She finished, her voice harder than she had known it could be.

He looked plainly shocked, yet again. She had seem him that way for so much of their time up here that it no longer riveted her as it first had. Now she just wanted him to go away.

"I thought Malfoy was an ugly name," he said, tauntingly. Ginny could no longer resist. She knew exactly what was going on with him and she knew that it would kill him to know she knew. Any other time she could have restrained herself, not let herself say it but now she was at the breaking point from her earlier behavior.

"Malfoy is a cowardly name, and it couldn't have been slapped on a worthier person," she spat venomously. "I can tell how people are just by watching them. I've been able to every since the Chamber of Secrets! I learned how to watch people from Tom, and he taught me well! I can look at people and know what they're about and why they act the way they do! And you act the way you do because you're scared. You're scared to death to do anything to uproot your way of life, because as miserable as you may be in it, you're not willing to risk what you know for something you don't know, even if it could be a million times more pleasant. Well, I have no patience for the cowardly, and no matter how well they cover it up with acid and insults and hatefulness, I know cowardice when I see it! And you, Malfoy, are brimming with it!" she finished, breathing hard and feeling anger enliven her senses. She almost growled his name, and she felt primal and unbalanced for a few moments. She had never before explained to people how she could tell about them, never even let on that she could. But she'd just spilled it all to Draco Malfoy, and for what; to hurt him. To make him feel as vulnerable as he had felt. While she was unaccustomed to vulnerability, she knew he'd be downright nauseous with it.

She was right. Malfoy looked somewhere between enraged and ill. But when he spoke, it was with such gentleness that Ginny drew back.

"Riddle left such a mark on you? Well, it isn't the worst he could've done."

"Don't speak to me about Tom! You know nothing about how he was and you know nothing of the horror I went through! I went through HELL and I've dealt with it and I'm all right! But you, what have you dealt with? What have you ever dealt with to make you so arrogant and spiteful?"

"I suppose I was born that way," he said again, quietly. He raised his eyes to hers and they were open again, without coldness. She looked into them for a long while and felt her anger ebb slightly. It was still there, but no longer threatening to overtake her. She felt calmer looking at him. Almost like looking at the dark sky. She thought to herself, then quickly banished the thought.

"What on earth did I say to provoke all that?" Malfoy asked, and he seemed rapt with interest at her reply. She took a very long while deciding whether or not to answer truthfully or to tell him to sod off. But try as she might, she couldn't forget how easy it had been to open up to him. It might have been inexplicable, but Ginny knew how different it was with every other person in the world.

"I...I don't often...talk to people. I mean really talk about what I think. I find very few people really understand what I'm saying. But when I talked to you, I saw that you understood immediately, and that shocked me. Then, you took such a large thing for me as you knowing what I meant and acted as if it meant nothing. As though it was nothing amazingly special, or even necessarily anything good. That was really horrible of you. I can't really express how horrible because there just aren't words for it," she finished. She was still standing, looking at him sitting on the railing, but she felt her body quiet and her anger slide away. She breathed deeply and tried to stop her hands shaking at her sides.

"Well, there may be no words, and you're right, I don't know how you feel now. But I can imagine what effort it would take for me to actually be open with someone, and then to have it thrown back in my face. I, of course, assumed you were nothing like me, so I took no pause in throwing it back in yours. I didn't realize we were quite so similar in that respect." He was looking at her now, and his face was mostly expressionless, but she was regret and contrition in his eyes. That was enough for now.

"So tell me Weas-young lady," he struggled with the words and Ginny found it inexpressibly funny. "Where does your compass point?" Ginny took no hesitation in answering this time.

"It tends to spin in endless circles, honestly. I think it must be broken."

To her amazement, Draco laughed out loud. His laugh was immeasurably rougher than his voice and sounded as though it should come from a man, not a seventeen-year-old boy. She smiled at his laugh. Not a very Malfoy laugh at all. But a Draco laugh-that she could imagine.

"I'm of the opinion that sometimes, when a compass spins in circles, that indicates it's exactly where it belongs. Already at the point you've been trying to get," he said slowly, and with a soft voice.

"If you think I'm already where I need to be," said Ginny, feeling a bit of bitterness in her own voice now, "then you don't know me at all."

"So tell me what you want me to know," he said. Ginny felt shock show on her face. They both spent so much time shocking the Hell out of each other that she was amazed they ever got any talking done at all.

"I suppose the biggest thing, the thing that all my petty little problems come down to is that no one in this world has, or ever will, understand me," she stated, and was instantly regretful of having sounded so forlorn. She was acting exactly like a melodramatic teenager.

"Never is a word that doesn't truly apply to anything," Draco said, and Ginny smiled. His words were rather vague, but very appropriate. He had almost the same gift with words that Hermione did; perhaps more of one.

Suddenly, Draco stood up and walked up to her. He was quite a lot taller than her, and he tipped her head up to look into his eyes. Ginny wondered for a horrified moment if he was planning on kissing her, then found as she explored herself that she truly would've liked for him to. It would've scared her to death but she wouldn't shy away for anything in the world. But he simply put his hand on the side of her face and drew her close so that his lips were almost touching her ear, and whispered, "Just because there isn't anyone like you, doesn't mean there isn't anyone that understands you. And don't you ever regret who you are and how you feel. Don't you dare."

As he pulled away, he brushed his lips against her cheek. Then he straightened and looked down at her with what could only be called tenderness, though considering this was Draco Malfoy, Ginny found the adjective rather odd. Suddenly, and quite reflexively, she grabbed the back of his neck and pulled his lips to hers. She felt him gasp against her mouth, then open his own. She opened hers against him and felt their tongues touch lightly, then he moved further into her mouth. She had never even been French kissed, but this was amazingly natural, and amazingly breathtaking. While the fact that she was kissing Draco Malfoy did surprise her slightly, she wasn't shocked or repulsed. She almost had the urge to laugh at how her mother's words had rung so true.

After a moment, she pulled away. He was smiling, and what she had just done began to dawn. on her. She thought about apologizing, but realized he'd see immediately she didn't meant it. As she stood there in confusion and heaping embarrassment, he spoke.

"May I see you again, Ginny? Another night like tonight perhaps?"

She looked up at him again, nonplused. She gazed at him for a long moment, trying to determine if he was sincere. She found his eyes with hers and found nothing but longing and loneliness in them. She imagined he found exactly the same in hers. She nodded slowly, a grin creeping across her face.

"When?" he asked, almost hungrily, his voice taking on a rough edge.

She looked at the sky, and grinned brightly. "When the Dog Star is at the top of the sky, I'll be here again."

Draco sneered again. "The Dog Star. Sirius. Oh good Lord, must we make that our next rendezvous? It rather screams Gryffindor and Potter all at once."

She smiled. "No. It rather screams Ginny's quirky sense of humor. And that's the only time I'll give you."

"The Dog Star is often high in the sky for more than one day at a time. How will I know which evening to find you?"

"You're a resourceful boy. You'll figure it out," she said softly, still looking at him steadily.

Draco laughed out right. "I'm surprisingly bad at figuring things out. You seem to be the resident expert on that."

"Well, then you should probably try to stay at least marginally on my good side by day," she replied, dryly.

He leaned his head down to hers and kissed her softly, sucking slightly on her top lip as he drew away. Then he smiled again, a mischievous glint in his granite eyes. "If you start hearing reports from Potter and Granger that I've gone nutters, you had better defend me. But then again, don't hold your breath," he said, his eyes darkening a little.

"I have faith that you'll survive," she said, sarcasm now tingeing her voice.

Draco looked at her searchingly, and then gave a simple, "Yes. Yes I rather believe that you do."

With that, he turned on his heel and went out the Astronomy Tower door. Ginny sat for awhile, reveling in her feelings of giddiness and happiness She had taken a huge leap of faith and had been waiting to crash and hit the rocky bottom. She wasn't caught, however, she was cushioned. Draco cushioned her landing without making her feel as though she depended on him to save her. And that was the best thing he could've done. While she was dwelling over her thoughts, a slow smile crossed her face as something wholly unbelievable dawned on her. He must've really understood every word she said, because he'd left the tower first. He'd let her win! Ginny sat, with her eyes lifted to the night sky, and with little surprise, found it not quite as calming and quieting as staring in the seas of liquid mercury that were Draco Malfoy's eyes. But the sky would do. The sky would do.