Incredible, Starving, Insatiable

"Sometimes I see your face,
The stars seem to lose their place
Why must I think of you?
Why must I?
Why should I?
Why should I cry for you?
Why would you want me to?
And what would it mean to say,
That, "I loved you in my fashion"?"

-Sting, "Why Should I Cry for You?"

Draco stopped kissing and pulled back so abruptly that Ginny fell forward onto his chest. He forcefully, but not violently, pushed her off of him, only to be stared down with a fierce glare.

"What's the idea, Malfoy?" Ginny placed a deadly emphasis on Draco's surname, taking note of Draco's sudden cold demeanor.

"This can't happen," Draco informed her, standing up. He brushed off his robe, out of habit, and didn't notice Ginny's eyes narrowing.

"I see," Ginny also stood. "'Weasley filth' not good enough for you? Is my family's poverty going to soil your reputation?

Draco froze for only a millisecond, and Ginny thought she saw guilt flash in his eyes, but mentally shook herself and convinced herself she was wrong.

"This never happened," Draco replied softly, softer and gentler than Ginny had ever thought Draco's voice could sound, as he slipped out the portrait hole. Too late, Ginny screamed in frustration and threw her bar of soap at the portrait.

"Well, I never," the woman in the portrait declared, turning her back to Ginny. Ginny sighed, picked up her soap and the rest of her belongings, uttered a few curses intermingled with the occasional "Malfoy" and sweet talked the portrait into opening back up for her, after which she promptly fled back to Gryffindor Tower.

**********

Draco fell backwards onto his bed, safe in the Slytherin dungeons. Unknowingly, he cursed at himself much in the same way as Ginny had. He was unsure what had caused him to slip and snog a Weasley, of all people. She wasn't even that pretty! Well, better than pug-faced Parkinson. But certainly there were prettier girls. Maybe they didn't all have fiery red hair, but they would do. They wouldn't listen and understand to his deepest, darkest secrets. More likely, they would coo and pity him in a disgusting manner. Never mind that Gin-Weasley saw him for himself, at least, as far as he could tell.

What were worse were the feelings that had bubbled up inside of him when that look of hurt briefly flashed across her face before changing to one of intense anger. It was almost like... like... guilt. With something else mixed in, as well. Draco wasn't quite sure what to make of these emotions, or what to call them having never experienced them before. Malfoys, simply put, just did not feel. Particularly not weakening emotions like guilt, or... compassion, if that's what that awful feeling was.

Although, if Draco was honest with himself, the only awful feeling was the guilt. The urge to reach out and stroke Ginny's face and perhaps "comfort" her wasn't quite so awful.

Ugh, what is wrong with me? Draco thought to himself. He groaned out loud. He would simply have to avoid the Weasley brat for the rest of the Christmas holidays... hell, considering the effect she had on him, he would be running away from redheads for the rest of his life.

**********

Draco and Ginny found it rather easy to avoid each other for the first few days of their vacation; after all, the Slytherin dungeons and the Gryffindor tower were on the opposite sides of the castle, nearly. Ginny, for her part, studied only in the common room, dashing to the library whenever she needed something, and she got into the habit of asking Dobby the house-elf to bring her meals in return for a few Knuts or often, pairs of old socks, to which he happily acquiesced.

And thus they both continued in this manner, happily, and slightly confused on Ginny's part. Their presence wasn't required at many meals over the holidays, since there were so few students, with Christmas Eve and Christmas morning being the two exceptions.

So, although she had avoided thinking about it, it came as no surprise to Ginny to see a circular table looking rather tiny in the vast emptiness of the Great Hall, as she skidded in a few minutes late. Slowly, she approached the table, her eyes roving around quickly, finding the nearest empty seat.

Fortunately, the only open seat was next to Dumbledore. Ginny smiled slightly as the kind old professor's eyes twinkled at her.

Unfortunately, there was a silvery blond head deeply engrossed in a conversation with Snape on the other side of the empty seat. A head that did not turn to look at her, she noticed, although most of the others had.

Ginny sighed and quickly slid into her seat. She found she couldn't be too upset around Dumbledore, anyway; his presence always seemed to be calming and filling her with warmth. She smiled again as he gently patted her hand, and cleared his throat to speak.

"We're all here now, so I believe we can begin the feast," Dumbledore announced. He then waved his wand, and a spectacular Christmas dinner appeared before their eyes.

Ginny happily began eating, until she noticed that whenever Draco picked up his fork, his arm brushed hers. She quickly glanced around; no one's chairs seemed to be as close together as hers and Draco's.

'Well, if he's not going to do anything about it, then neither am I,' Ginny decided. Probably not her best decision, but at least she could always know that it wasn't her worst. Suddenly, a mumble to her right broke her train of thought.

"Pass the peas, please," Draco muttered towards Ginny's ear. They were right in front of her, and he probably could have easily reached them himself, or magic them over, but an urge to speak to her, or hear her voice came over him. Plus, what was the harm? She would pass the peas, he could mix them into his mashed potatoes, and then everyone would be /font>happy.

"Get them yourself," Ginny rudely replied, quickly putting to an end Draco's ponderings on the necessity of peas on his mashed potatoes. Well, well, well. He hadn't quite expected her to refuse, she seemed so docile usually.

"As you wish," Draco smirked as he reached over and 'accidentally' knocked her glass of pumpkin juice into her lap. He didn't mind that it splashed onto his own robes, he had hundreds. Perhaps even thousands, he hadn't bothered to count in quite some time. Ginny, on the other hand, was wearing her nicest set of robes for this dinner, of this he was sure. He was also sure that any one of the many professors seated around the table would gladly clean up the stain in an instant; he just wanted to see her upset. And she was. She wasn't crying, as he knew someone like, say, Pansy would have been. He was happy about that. Instead, she turned to him with fiery eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Draco replied, not sounding even the least bit.

"Draco, you sodding bas--," she said through gritted teeth, her eyes shooting daggers at him, until a hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"There, there, Miss Weasley," Dumbledore smiled at her. He picked up his wand and waved it over her robes, muttering something quickly. Her robes immediately sparkled like new, and were in fact, shinier and prettier than they had been before. Ginny glanced, confused, and realized that Dumbledore must have enhanced them somehow, rather than just cleaning them. She looked up and he smiled at her again.

"Thank you, Professor Dumbledore," she smiled back. Then, impulsively, she reached over and hugged him. He happily returned the hug, looking at Draco over her shoulder.

Draco felt Dumbledore's eyes on him before he saw them. He slowly looked up, afraid of being reprimanded. What met his eyes was far more confusing, however.

Dumbledore winked at him.

What was that about? Draco just stared back, as Dumbledore and Ginny stopped hugging, and the entire table, with him being the only exception, returned to their food. Draco was as confused as ever. So, he did what he seemed to do a lot lately.

He ran.

**********

Ginny walked through the front doors of Hogwarts directly after dinner, decided some fresh air would help calm her nerves and maybe help her figure out what was going on in her life recently. She walked rather aimlessly, but eventually found herself approaching the lake. She remembered that Hermione once told her that she and Harry often took walks around the lake, and it was a very calming influence on Harry. Ginny privately mused that it might not be the lake, and rather Hermione. Ginny had seen Hermione and Harry when they were together, and they seemed very... peaceful. Ginny had been transfixed by the amount of tranquility that had radiated off the two. It was a rarity to see them alone, since they were with Ron so much (who was anything but a calming influence), but everyone knew that the three were impossible to separate, dating or not. And that was the way they liked it. Ginny often envied the way the three of them seemed to complement each other just right, and wondered if she would ever find someone, be it a friend or boyfriend that would suit her just so.

Caught up in her musings, Ginny almost entirely missed seeing Draco leaning against a tree, eyes closed. Indeed, she smelled him before she saw him, as her nose immediately caught a whiff of cigarette smoke.

"Malfoy! That's disgusting!" Ginny exclaimed, coughing as a puff of smoke entered her lungs. Draco lazily opened his eyes to look directly at her. He stood up, dropped the cigarette, and put it out.

"What's it to you?" He asked, arching one eyebrow so perfectly, Ginny could have sworn there were strings pulling it up or something.

"Well, for one I don't want to smell that, it's a revolting smell," Ginny coughed again. "Secondly, they're terrible for you, and will probably cause you an early death. I think you should quit."

"There are other things that will kill me before cigarettes," Draco muttered, causing a wave of apprehension to sweep over Ginny. But before she could speak, Draco resumed. "Besides, who are you to tell me what to do, Weasley?"

"Just because I don't have money doesn't mean I don't know how terrible things like that are for you," Ginny replied. "Besides, how did you get those? Cigarettes are Muggle-inventions, and you're not exactly the type to go for anything even remotely Muggle-related."

Draco shrugged. "Crabbe's father enjoys them, so Crabbe snuck a few packs to Hogwarts this year, which I, of course, took from him."

"Of course," Ginny rolled her eyes. "Seriously, Draco. Stop smoking. Please?"

Draco looked at Ginny. She had a pleading look on her face, and showed signs of serious concern. He also noted her use of his given name as opposed to "Malfoy." Or, "sodding bastard." Something came over him, as it always did when he was around Ginny, and he fished the pack out of his robes, reached back, and threw them deep into the lake.

"Thank you!" Ginny exclaimed and smiled. She tentatively took one step closer to Draco. He took one step back.

"This still can't happen, you know," Draco said, a frosty tone coming into his voice.

"Why not?" Ginny insisted, taking another more confident step forward, as Draco was backed up against the tree. "Explain that to me, and maybe I'll leave you alone."

Draco sighed. "You just don't get it, do you?" Ginny shook her head. "Ginny, I'm a Slytherin. You're a Gryffindor. I'll probably be dead soon, and you're destined to live a long happy life. It won't work! It can't work! It's impossible, unthinkable, it's... it's..." Draco trailed off, noticing Ginny's look of confusion. "What?"

"Why do you keep saying that you're going to be dead soon? And what makes you think I'm going to live a long, happy life? How would you know that?" Ginny asked.

"You ask a lot of questions, don't you, Weasley?" Draco smirked, and Ginny shrugged in response. "Well, I imagine that I'll be dead soon because I'll refuse to become a Death Eater, and You-Know - oh, I can say it in front of you, you're not one of those pathetic girls who'll be scared - Voldemort will probably have me killed. Probably by my father, in fact."

Ginny took all of this in slowly. She started to say something about that, but Draco continued on talking.

"And, as for you living a long life, well... I guess I'm a decent Divination student, or maybe I have the "Inner Eye," or whatever it is that that bumbling idiot Trelawney goes on and on about. I saw in the crystal ball examination after third year that you would live a happy, long life." Draco replied.

"Why would you see me in your visions?" Ginny asked, more confused than ever. Draco shrugged again. Ginny decided to leave that line of questioning for a later time. When she began speaking again, however, it was in a much smaller voice. "Your own father would kill you?"

Draco smirked. "My father doesn't care for me, especially not more than he cares about his precious Master. I'm only good for taking over the Malfoy estate and his Death Eater responsibilities. If I don't do that, then what's the point in keeping me around?"

Again, Ginny tried to process this information, including Draco's blasé yet bitter approach to it all; trying to think of which one of her million questions she wanted answered the most. She stepped forward yet again, and this time she was close enough to reach out and take Draco's hand in her own, which is exactly what she did.

"Draco... I don't want to ignore you and pretend that none of this ever happened," Ginny said softly. She looked at his face, currently looking out over the lake, and brought her other hand to his face, running her fingers along his strong jaw line, to gently force him to look at her. He did, and he sighed. It seemed that all they did these days was sigh.

"Neither do I," he replied, just before his lips reached down to kiss hers. He kissed her softly at first, and then began to open up and deepen it, just as she pulled back.

"No running out on me this time, Malfoy!" Ginny spoke severely. Draco grinned, the first time Ginny had ever seen him smile like that, and sh felt her insides melt. This time, she reached up and kissed him.

They remained that way until their ears turned red with cold, but neither of them noticed. The first stars began to appear overhead, twinkling in the dark night sky, and hand in hand, they went back into the castle.