More Than This

‘Love is my sin, and thy dear virtue hate,

Hate of my sin, ground on sinful loving.’

-William Shakespeare-

            Draco paced the floor of his dormitory. How the hell did that happen? He had been asking himself that question for hours, and the only answer he could find was not one he was willing to accept. He raked his hand through his hair. Someone pounded on the door, but he ignored them. The locking charm he had used was unbreakable by any one other than the person who cast it. His head was spinning. He tried to tell himself that the kiss was just a way of confirming his superiority. A way to show her how well he controlled people. She is a Weasley! A Gryffindor! I am a Malfoy. If his father knew what had happened . . . He groaned in frustration. She is beneath me, he thought, pushing away the thousands of voices inside of him that told him he was wrong.

                                                                        *

            Ginny sat on the steps, hidden in the darkness. She absently pulled at the laces on her black boots. She couldn’t think straight. All thoughts led her back to the one thing that she wanted to forget. She closed her eyes and it all came flooding back. The feeling of his lips on hers, his hand lightly gripping her wrist. Get a hold of yourself! This is Malfoy we’re talking about. It was probably just a cruel joke. She thought about that for a moment, frowning. But, if it was just a joke, what about that look in his eyes? That brief spark that she had seen before closing her eyes. The fire in his cold eyes that sent her mind whirling with unanswered questions. She stiffened as she heard approaching footsteps. Probably one of the Dream Team, she thought. She felt a hand rest gently on her shoulder. Her heart fluttered. The touch was all too familiar.

            Slowly, reluctantly, she looked up. There he stood, his arms crossed over his chest. He was not wearing his robes, but was clad in all black, with a pair of boots not unlike her own. He looked down at her.

“Why aren’t you with Potter?” he asked.

“Why should I be?”

He shrugged.

She sighed and narrowed her eyes. “Is there something you want?”

            He nodded and came closer to her. She closed her eyes tightly and wished for her heart to stop betraying her. It was beating as if it might burst out of her chest at any moment. She opened them again to see his face getting closer to hers. His eyes were alive, that fire burning once again. Her eyes fluttered closed as their lips met. The kiss deepened and she felt it sweep through her. Her whole body was buzzing, her head spinning.

            A bit later, they broke apart. Her cheeks were flushed and her lips felt swollen. His eyes danced over her face, and he began to laugh. The state of euphoria ended abruptly. She could hear his laughter echoing in the back of her mind. Her heart dropped.

“What is so funny?” she asked.

“You.” He laughed again, a mirthless laugh that seemed to make the air around her colder.

She looked at him, her eyes narrowed in confusion.

“You’re so gullible, Weasley.”

His grey eyes iced over. She felt her stomach turn. She couldn’t speak.

“You actually thought I wanted you. You’re even dumber than I thought. Let me make it clear to you. You. Are. Beneath. Me.”

He reached out to touch her cheek. She flinched from his touch and he laughed again. She felt the tear burning her eyes. She pulled back her hand, balling it into a fist. She launched it forward, satisfied to hear a pop as it connected to his jaw. He stared at her, his laughter ending. She shot him an icy glare then stormed off, getting away just as the tears escaped her eyes.

                                                                        *

            He sat on the step she had abandoned. His stomach was in knots, which only served to increase his anger. How could one girl do this to him? Saying those things to her had been satisfying. For a second, he had almost believed them. But when she left him, the cruel satisfaction was instantly replaced by aching emptiness. Guilt was gnawing at him. The scene was replaying in his head over and over. Each time that he saw the pain in her eyes, the pain inside of him grew. He didn’t understand her, but for some reason he wanted to.

                                                                        *

            When Ginny reached the common room, she was a mess. Her eyes were red and swollen, her red hair tangled, her cheeks ashen. She stumbled through the portrait hole and sank into the nearest chair, burying her face in her hands. She shook with sobs, trembling with each new tear. She hated crying, hated feeling vulnerable. She felt as if her soul was laid out for everyone to see. She heard muffled whispers.

“ . . . okay?”

“What happened?”

“. . . talk to her?”

In an instant, she was joined by none other than the Dream Team. But suddenly she ached for their company. Ron looked terrified. The last time he had seen her cry had been on that horrible night. Harry’s brilliant green eyes were full of concern as he knelt beside her chair and put his hand on her arm. She felt the touch burning into her and felt the memories flooding back. But she didn’t pull away. It was comforting and disconcerting all at once. Hermione placed an arm around her shoulders.

“Gin, what happened?” Harry asked.

She stared at the wall, her vision blurring. She did not answer. Hermione was pushing her hair back from her face. Why are they so damn nice? The tears increased. Finally, she choked out one word.

“M-Malfoy.” Hermione’s eyes widened and she hugged Ginny tightly. Harry’s eyes flashed with anger. Ron’s face went scarlet.

“I’ll kill him,” Ron hissed.

Harry leaned in toward her. He took her hand in his.

“Gin, I don’t know what he did to you. But he’ll pay for it.”

She continued to cry.

“I swear,” he added.

He must have thought he was comforting her. He brushed away her tears with his thumb and kissed her cheek. She shut her eyes. He and Ron swept out of the room, and Hermione looked at her.

“Malfoy will get what’s coming to him. Don’t worry.”

Ginny nodded. She felt like she had been turned inside out. Her head was throbbing. What have I done?