Christmas in Rome

Christmas in Rome

Christmas in Rome… it’s a nice place to be, at least. The city lights twinkling in the diminishing twilight, and the soft sprinkling of snow coating the countryside…

I didn’t used to be this sentimental. Hell, I was almost completely devoid of emotion. But then… And now…

I can’t help but wish that it was the way it used to be. We used to come here, to Rome, together, spend the entire time together. Granger would visit the sites and the museums and the architectural successes, Weasley would tag along after her, and Ginny and Potter after them. I would follow them as well, just for fun. There wasn’t much else to do after all. Despite its history, there aren’t very many witches and wizards in Rome.

Then again, because of the presence of the Catholic Pope… Well, I suppose the inhabitants of the city are more opposed to witches and wizards than others.

You might wonder how it is that we ever took a vacation together. Me, the two youngest Weasleys, Granger, and Potter. Well…

We were the most popular musical group in a long time. To the Muggle world we were a band of school chums, bound together in ways only we knew about. To the Wizarding world we were a band of school chums, bound together in ways only we knew about. And it was true. To this day, no one but us knows the truth.

It began in our seventh year at Hogwarts. Strangely enough, Dumbledore, in his usual strange way, decided to host a musical at the school… And Weasley, Granger, Potter, the littlest Weasel, Ginny, and I were chosen as the leads. It turned out that we were all rather decent singers, and throughout the play, against all odds, we grew closer.

Granted, I still had the time of my life teasing Weasley and Granger, who seemed to be forever battling their attraction to each other. And I didn’t think that Potter and I would ever be the best of friends. But it was easier, in a way. We were all just nicer to each other in general, because of that play.

So we stayed “friends”—if you could call it that—after we graduated. We kept contact with each other, until, one day, Potter realized he would be expected to sing at one of those large charity balls he was always going to or sponsoring. And he decided that he would drag us into it as well. After all, the five of us had been a success in the musical Dumbledore had put on—so why not now?

Surprisingly, we’d pulled it off. In two days we were able to rehearse and organize ourselves into a wonderful little quintet. The four goody-goodies and me. Draco Malfoy.

It was the beginning of something big, though we didn’t know it at the time. Within weeks, people were offering to pay us for singing together. Even with me. Especially with me, actually. I was the bad boy of the group.

It wasn’t long before we became that big something. We became known as the Whomping Willopers. I don’t know where the name came from; someone asked what we were called and Weasley shouted it out before we could say we didn’t know. The name stuck, although in the Muggle world we were known as the W2’s.

Before long we were almost as famous as Potter himself. We were all being swamped by fan mail, and seriously had to hire bodyguards to protect us when we went out on the town, or even just down the street. Everyone wanted our autograph—or, if they couldn’t have that, perhaps a napkin we had used or a shirt we were wearing… or maybe a drop of our sweat. Note the sarcasm.

They always asked us where we came up with our songs. “Real life,” Potter would say, a slight smile on his face. It really was true. Most of our songs had to do with fearing something, and then finding out that maybe it wasn’t as bad as we’d thought it was. Sometimes it was a bully, sometimes it was someone like Hitler, sometimes it was that girl we wanted to ask out, and sometimes it was the adoring fan who wouldn’t let up.

The bully was me. Hitler was Voldemort. The girl was the littlest Weasley—Potter had a crush on her at the time. The adoring fan was Parvati Patil.

Funny how it all was based on real life. I seemed to turn out okay—after all, I was hanging out with the good guys now. Voldemort didn’t turn out to be okay, but he certainly hadn’t been as powerful as everyone had feared. Potter had finally been able to ask Ginny out, and the two seemed to hit it off. Parvati Patil… Well, she’d been falling over herself to follow me around. I finally asked her out, and she wasn’t that bad. We actually had a good time.

But, like all seeming paradises, it didn’t last. And, as always, the proverbial romances got in the way.

Apparently inter-dating in a music band is not a smart thing to do. See, sometime after Potter and Ginny started going out—say, three months—I started to fall for her. I don’t know what did it, I don’t know what started it or what changed it—I only know that it happened. So I didn’t do anything. I just watched her from afar. I’ve always been the martyr-type.

Somehow she found out. And she kissed me. Hell, forget kissed—she actually slept with me. I didn’t know why at the time, I just figured that maybe, just maybe, she’d fallen for me too. Back then, I believed in happily ever after.

The next morning, however…

I stirred slowly, keeping my eyes glued shut. There was a girl next to me. I could tell. She smelled… Like lilacs. Beautiful. I smiled to myself, although I still wasn’t certain I was awake. It wasn’t Parvati, I knew that much. We hadn’t slept together yet. She no doubt thought I was being noble, but the truth was that I wasn’t really attracted to her.

I cracked my eyes open against the morning light, and was shocked to see red hair filling my vision. It was Ginny Weasley who was splayed across my chest. My first thought was that her brother would kill me. The second was that Potter would beat him to it, and then they’d both resurrect me so they could do it again. Maybe they’d do it a few more times after that, for good measure.

Ginny seemed to be waking up as well, and I smiled into her hair. “Morning, beautiful,” I whispered.

She froze before relaxing minutely. “What time is it?” she mumbled, rolling away from me slightly. I frowned at the cold now occupying her vacant spot.

I glanced at the clock on the wall. “Ten twenty-two,” I said, adding, “in the morning.”

She smacked my arm playfully. “I know it’s morning.”

I grinned. I could get used to this.

Just then, Potter came through the door. “Malfoy, have you seen—” he stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the lump next to me, the only identifiable feature on it being the long, curly red hair. “Ginny,” he whispered, looking astonished.

It turned out they’d had a fight that night. It also turned out that Potter had been cavorting with Parvati behind Ginny’s back. She, Ginny, talked to me a few weeks later.

“I’m sorry, Draco,” she whispered, looking at least slightly ashamed. “I-I didn’t mean anything by it. I mean, I only wanted to get back at Harry for hurting me, and…”

“Save it,” I said coldly, the ache in my heart intensifying at her words. She had slept with me, all to get back at Potter. It was always about blasted Potter.

A few weeks after that, we had a concert. It was a Muggle one, which meant no blatant magic—it also meant we had to do the gymnastics thing. At one point I had to catch Potter—I missed. I think I did it deliberately, although that entire show is still rather cloudy in my mind. But I wouldn’t be surprised if I meant to do it.

That was the beginning of our breaking off. But it was only the beginning.

I broke off with Parvati a few days after my talk with Ginny, when she explained to me what had happened. She and Harry had a short-lived romance while he and Ginny were working things out.

Meanwhile, Weasley and Granger were having problems of their own.

I guess I was wrong when I said that both of them were fighting attraction for the other. Apparently only Weasley was. He kissed her—as in, he attempted to snog her senseless. But I guess it’s rather difficult to get Granger senseless, since she pushed him away, succeeding in getting him to twist his ankle. We had to cancel a concert that day, as we were unable to get to a Medi-witch in time to make it back.

It turned out that Hermione was seeing Blaise Zabini secretly, in an attempt to keep him from the media. They got married two months after that, as Blaise apparently wasn’t happy that Weasley had made a move on his girl.

So Weasley ended up with Parvati.

One would think that this would not be enough to split a group such as ours apart. And it wouldn’t have been, had it not been for one teeny tiny thing. Please note the sarcasm again.

A hint for all you sexually active people out there: use protection. I don’t care how much you love each other, I don’t care that you think there won’t be any repercussions, I don’t care about anything except that you have to use protection. I don’t care if it’s Muggle or Magical, just use protection.

Ginny got pregnant. Because of the fact that she and Potter had been having hard times, she got a paternity test.

It turned out I was the father.

“You were the father, Draco,” Ginny said, looking nervous.

I stood there, shocked. I was a father. I was a friggin’ father. “Wh-when is it due?” I choked out.

Ginny furrowed her brow. “Draco, I got an abortion.”

I was a father for two months, and I didn’t even know it. And then she went and got an abortion. I disappeared for two months after that. Went to the States and stayed at the beach. Not that I saw the beach that much. I spent the majority of the time drinking myself into oblivion.

When I came back, Granger and Blaise were away on their honeymoon. I’d missed the wedding. Parvati and Weasley were together. Ginny and Potter… Well, they were still together actually. I have no clue why. I think they’ve come to depend on each other too much. They can’t imagine life apart so they don’t separate.

We all just kind of… drifted apart, I guess. There wasn’t really one time where I could say, “That’s it, that’s when it happened.” We did one concert after that, one for the Muggle world and one for the Wizarding world. Both were completely sold out. It wasn’t officially a farewell concert, but everyone could tell that we were separating. We had used to spend our vacations together; now we just kind of… didn’t. We just didn’t.

It’s been five years since our last vacation together, the last one we went on. It was two weeks before Ginny and I…slept together. Two weeks before it all came tumbling down around us. Everything we had built up together, everything we had loved and hated and just had fun with. All of our music. I can’t hear one of our songs without tears coming to my eyes.

One scene stays in my mind more than the others, one, I suppose, that should have warned us what was coming. We had rented a boat and Potter was driving it. There were two benches. I sat on one with Ginny, and Weasley and Granger sat together as well.

Weasley casually put his arm behind Granger, a light blush tingeing his cheeks. The former Gryffindor ignored it pointedly, not that Weasley noticed of course. He never did. Ginny sighed beside me, stretching her legs. I tried not to look at her; she was probably looking adorable in her parka, her cheeks flushed, her eyes dancing…

I shook my head. Not a good time to think about that. Then again, it never was a good time to think about that. Sighing defeatedly, I snuck a look at Ginny out of the corner of my eye. I sucked in a breath. Not only was she looking gorgeous, but she was looking right at me. She gave me a small smile, her eyes twinkling.

It might not have seemed like much, but it really should have been enough. Weasley’s overtures towards Granger had been becoming more and more apparent, and that had been the first physical move he’d made on her. Ginny had never before given me the slightest hint that she even approved of my existence. Those things, no matter how small, should have alerted me. But they didn’t. And because of it, I lost the only real friends I’d ever had.

I sighed, standing up off the lawn chair I had been seated on and heading to the street, my hands in my pockets. I was wearing Muggle clothes, a black parka over black jeans and a black t-shirt. I wear black a lot now. It was time for my evening stroll. We used to stay here, all of us, on this street. Not in the house that I was now renting, but in one down the street. It was Christmas Eve now. As usual, I wouldn’t get many presents. Granger—well, I suppose Granger-Zabini now—and Blaise often sent me gifts, and I received the obligatory one from my mother, but that was it.

It used to be different. We would all exchange gifts, even Ginny and I, despite the fact that most of the time I doubted she knew I existed. Weasley, Granger, Potter, Ginny and I. We would come here, to Rome, every Christmas. It was like that for almost five years. And then… Well, you already know what happened.

Now it was just Granger and Blaise… They were the only ones I was even on speaking terms with any longer, and Blaise hadn’t been in the group. Oh, he was my cousin, and we’d been in the same house at Hogwarts, but we hadn’t been close at all. I was always with Pansy, Crabbe, Goyle, and the others. He was… Well, come to think of it, I never really knew where he was.

By this time I had reached the dock, the one where we had left on the boat that one time. I looked out over the water, thinking about the past, about all the Christmases in Rome… Why couldn’t it have stayed like that? I’d liked it that way, and I wouldn’t mind if it were that way again.

“Hey,” a soft voice said.

I turned around, a small smile coming to my face. “Hi, Granger,” I said, sighing. Her hair was swept into a bun at the nape of her neck, and she was wearing a heavy winter cloak—dark green, I noticed. She looked good. She always had, at least ever since the Yule Ball, fourth year. Blaise once told me that had been the first time he’d really noticed her, and for that he was ashamed. But he had no doubt made it up… “What are you doing here?” I asked, looking behind her.

“Blaise should be here in a few minutes,” she said, realizing what I was looking for and pointedly ignoring my question. “He wanted to get some things. I didn’t think you would be here.”

“I always come here for Christmas,” I said quietly, turning back to the water.

“Really?” She seemed surprised. “Blaise and I have been coming here for the last five years. Funny we haven’t run into you.”

I raised my eyebrows, looking over my shoulder at her. “I find it strange as well,” I said. “How’s Aileen?” I asked, referring to their two-year-old daughter.

Granger’s eyes lit up at the mention of the dark-haired little beauty. “She’s wonderful. Blaise and I just put her down for the night. He’s going to ward the house before he leaves. She usually sleeps straight through till the morning, but I wouldn’t want anyone to come in and take her.”

“Always the careful one,” I grinned.

“Always,” she smiled back.

“Hey beautiful,” Blaise said, slipping his arms around his wife’s waist.

Granger jumped slightly. “You scared me!” she scolded him, slapping him lightly on the arm, her eyes twinkling. She sighed then, leaning back into his embrace. “Aileen is fine?”

“Wonderful, as usual,” Blaise said, his face half-buried behind his wife’s head. “Hello, Draco,” he said, seemingly just noticing my presence.

I nodded at him, a slight smile playing at the corner of my mouth. They were so happy. Blaise had a job at Gringotts that paid quite well, and Granger was working full-time at the Ministry, in the Department of Misuse of Muggle Artifacts. She was expected to become the head of it in a matter of months. It wasn’t surprising to me that she had been able to rise so quickly, even after taking a five year break to tour with the group, as well as maternity leave only two years earlier. Many people expected her—still expect her, in fact—to make a run for Minister of Magic, myself included.

And to top that off, they had a two-year-old daughter. The girl was adorable, almost the perfect mix of her parents, with caramel-brown eyes and curly black hair. She was one of the best-behaved children I have ever met—it’s almost scary, actually. She’s a lot like you would have imagined Granger to be when she was a child. Blaise and Granger were planning on another child soon—two boys and two girls, she had said, close enough chronologically so that they can still keep each other company.

Granger and Blaise were lucky. It was obvious they loved each other, they both had no financial worries, they had one child and were already planning for another, and…

Well, I suppose I might as well admit it. I’m jealous. I really am. I wish I could have that. I wish that I could find someone to love, who loves me…

But I can’t. I’ve already given my heart to Ginny. And she pretty much stomped on it, breaking it into too many pieces for it ever to heal properly. I can’t have happily ever after. I can’t live my life knowing there’s someone there to back me. I can’t have a child that’s the perfect mix of both me and my partner, loudly proclaiming our love for each other. Ginny destroyed any chance I had of any of that.

All I’ll ever have is Christmas in Rome.

~fin~