All You Need Is Love

Chapter Three

Midnight Snacks and Civilized Conversations



Draco stayed the night at Ginny's castle. When he asked Elle how long they were going to be there, she tossed her hair and wrinkled her nose at him. "We'll be here for at least a week," she told him, like he should've known. "Father and Ginny's parents need to discuss the wedding in detail. It's only three weeks away, you know."

Unfortunately, he thought, but didn't say anything.

After dinner, Draco refused the invitation to sit and talk with the men and excused himself. A young maid, whose head reached to his shoulders, hurried to his side and was to show him to his room.

The maid chattered in a consistent stream but Draco ignored her, trying to memorize his way around the castle. He didn't hear her say goodnight and shut the door in her beaming face, unaware that he'd done such a rude thing.

His room was dark and elegant - it suited him well. The heavy curtains on the windows and the canopy bed was made of dark blue, and the carpet was nearly black. At the foot of his bed was a trunk, and when he gave it a cursory search he figured someone must've packed clothes for him to wear for the following week. He prayed there would be someone to dress him, for he would never figure out the complicated fastenings and buttoning of the garments he was required to wear.

The room was lit by low candlelight from the lamps on the walls, casting shadows across the already dark area. Draco sighed loudly and sat on the bed. It took him nearly five minutes to get his boots off - they weren't hard to understand, but there were a million buttons he had to undo. When he finally only had ridiculously thick gray socks on, he set to work on his clothes.

The cape was easy enough, sort of like unfastening robes, but with everything else he had difficulty. The first layer was sort of like a sweater with dark stripes, and it was so tight he couldn't lift it over his head. He struggled for a few minutes, feeling stupid. Finally, he gave up, cursing loudly.

"I'll just sleep in my damn clothes," he muttered under his breath. As he turned to lie down on his back, the door to his room opened.

Harry walked in.

Draco sat up quickly, covering his surprise with a sneer. "Don't you knock, Potter?" he demanded.

"I am here to see you into your night clothes," he said without any expression.

Draco went from relief to finally having a way to get out of his heavy clothes to horror that Harry was to undress him. "No," he snapped. "I can do it myself."

"I think not," Harry said dryly, fixing his green eyes on Draco's gray ones. "Having grown up being dressed by someone else makes it impossible for you to know how to do it yourself."

Draco stood up. He felt slightly idiotic considering the cape was no longer covering his many shirts, which made his chest and shoulders look much bigger than they really were. He looked wrongly proportioned, and for an instant considered letting Harry help him. But the idea soon left his brain.

"Just because I've never done it before doesn't I don't know how," he said icily.

"Fine," Harry said, and turned to leave.

Draco watched him, and before he could stop himself said, "Wait."

Harry turned back around, frowning and giving him a murderous look.

"Just get this sweater off me, will you?" Draco grumbled, once more feeling like a git. He's a servant, he reminded himself. Not the Potter you know. He expects you to not be able to undress yourself.

But he still felt immensely foolish.

Harry gave an all-knowing smirk and stepped back into the room. He grabbed the bottom of Draco's sweater and began to tug it up.

He stopped. "You have to lift your arms," he said.

Draco obeyed, trying to think of something clever to say. "Do you always undress men?" he finally settled on.

Harry lifted the sweater over Draco's head and dropped it on to the ground. He did not meet Draco's gaze but he was radiating fury. "I certainly do not undress women," he answered after a moment, working on the rather fluffy white shirt that had been underneath the sweater.

"Of course," Draco said. "Potter, the virgin."

This time, Harry gaped at him. He blinked in amazement, and Draco just smirked at him.

"You are not?" he asked.

"That's my business," Draco replied, even though he really was still a virgin. But that wasn't something he would share with anyone, much less Harry.

Harry returned his attention to Draco's clothes, but Draco stepped back. "That's all," he said. "I don't need any more help. You can leave."

Harry didn't need to be told twice. He spun and hurried out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Draco managed to get the rest of his shirts off, staying in his trousers. He didn't want to put another feminine nightgown on - he would much rather sleep in his pants.

Draco went around the room and blew out all the lamps, wishing he had his wand so he could do it from bed. Life wasn't going to be easy without his wand and he knew it. How did Muggles survive?

Finally, the room was in complete darkness, and he made his way back to bed. After hitting his shin on a sharp edge of an unidentifiable piece of furniture and swearing loudly, he finally reached it. It took him a few seconds to peel back the covers, which had been tucked in so tight they were nearly glued on. At last, he was able to lie on his back, staring at the top of the canopy.

He wasn't tired at all. He had no idea what time it was, but it was most likely still early. Probably around eight. His thoughts wandered back to his normal time, in the future. What was happening back there? Was he missing? Did a house-elf come in to wake him up and find him gone? Was his mother worried?

Of course not, he thought. She probably doesn't even care.

And how was he going to get back? He didn't even know how he'd gotten transported into the past in the first place. It didn't make sense. Sure, a Time-Turner could've been used while he was sleeping - once again, perhaps a joke on his father's behalf. But there is no way he could've somehow ended up as a prince, where everyone clearly knew him and his name and his looks. The same with Ginny - they were both in some sort of parallel Universe. Nothing would make sense. How come they were the only two, when Harry was there and even Dumbledore, who knew that they were from the future?

What was going to happen if they never got back? Would he have to marry Ginny and . . . have children with her? But the answer to that question was obvious - unless he suddenly woke up back home one morning before Christmas, then yes, he would have to marry her.

Marriage. It was something that had rarely crossed his mind. He'd never planned on getting married and settling down, or having a family. His own family was a complete failure - why would one he make be any different? He didn't know how to be a caring husband, much less a loving father. No one would want to marry him in the first place.

But Ginny has to, he thought, rolling on to his side. He almost felt bad for her, seeing her point of view for the first time. If he was her he wouldn't want to marry him, either.

For hours Draco tossed and turned, thinking and thinking of ways to get back, of ways to get out of the marriage. But nothing came to mind, and he was only giving himself a headache and working up an appetite. Annoyed, he sat up and ran a hand through his hair, looking around the dark room.

He was never going to fall asleep. He might as well get up and get something to eat. It would probably be the only time he would be alone anywhere in the blasted castle, considering some sort of servant would always flank him. Hopefully everyone was asleep now, considering it was the middle of the night.

Not bothering to put a shirt on, he grabbed his cape and left the room, praying he wouldn't get lost on the way to the kitchen.



* * *



Ginny could not sleep, either. Every time she shut her eyes, they would snap back open at the prospect of marrying Draco. Then she'd get excited at the thought of waking up back in Hogwarts in the morning, and that did nothing to lull her to sleep.

She spent most of the night thinking about what had happened in the day. Why was she here? Was there a reason?

Suddenly, a horrible thought struck her. What if this was her real world and her other world - the one she thought was real - wasn't? What if she was supposed to marry Draco in real life and everything she remembered, everything she knew was fake?

But that didn't clear anything up for her. If this was real, then how come she believed something else was?

She shook her head and sat up. It was getting complicated, trying to decide what was real and what wasn't. Maybe if she took a walk around the castle she'd be able to clear her mind.

Kicking her legs over the side of the bed, she searched for the white slippers she'd seen Maria put out for her earlier that evening. After she slipped them on, she padded to the door. Her nightgown was long, dark (a blood red color), and thick and it would keep her warm enough. She carefully shut the door behind her, making sure it only made a click. She glanced up and down the hallway as if expecting someone to come. She had no idea where the next occupied bedroom was, but she certainly did not want to be caught prowling around at night.

Better safe than sorry. The saying her mother had always told her surfaced in her mind, causing Ginny to smile sadly. What was her mother doing now (even if the world she was in now was real, she would always consider Molly Weasley her real mother)? Could it be that while Ginny was living her life in the future, the people of the past were living with a replica of her? And maybe that's what was happening now with those in the future?

Ginny passed a familiar door, realizing it would lead into the kitchen. It was slightly ajar, so she just gave it a gentle push and stepped inside, shutting it firmly behind her.

Now, she thought, squinting in the absolute darkness, how am I supposed to find a candle?

She tried to remember the layout of the kitchen from earlier that morning. If she walked straight she'd run into an island counter, and if she went right she'd walk towards the old-fashioned stoves. If she went left she'd hit the long table where the servants ate their meals. On the wall near the stoves there were cabinets - most likely there would be candles and matches in there somewhere.

There was one window in the kitchen, and pale light flittered in. But her eyesight still hadn't adjusted, and she could barely make out the shapes of the furniture. She turned away from the light and started towards the cabinets. She didn't notice someone else was in her way until she collided into them.

***

Draco's eyes had adjusted enough to see what he was doing, but he'd been so absorbed in the task of peeling his apple (he could never eat apple skin - it just irritated him for some reason) that he hadn't heard her come in. And then when she bumped into him he dropped the knife back on to the counter with a clatter.

Ginny let out a long, loud scream.

Annoyed, Draco clapped his hand over her mouth, silencing her. He knew it was her - he could tell by the fiery hair that fell past her shoulders - but she obviously didn't know it was him. He grabbed her arm with his free hand and she struggled to get free.

"Shh," he hissed crossly. "It's only . . ."

She jerked back with a surprising amount of strength. But he had such a grip on her arm that she pulled him with her, and he stepped on the hem of her nightgown in stumbling after her. She lost her footing and fell down on to her back, and once again she managed to drag him along. He landed right on top of her, and felt the whoosh of her breath on his face when he did.

It took them both a few seconds to realize what had happened, and when they did, Draco made no attempt to move. ". . . me," he finished, grinning lazily at her.

Ginny's heart began to pound harder when she realized that he was not wearing a shirt - just a cape thrown over his shoulders and fastened at the base of his throat. His head was so close to hers his longish silver hair was brushing her cheek, and his eyes seem to glitter in what pale light there was.

Ginny forced herself to speak. "Get off me, Malfoy," she said rather shrilly.

Surprisingly, he obeyed, and was on his feet in less than a second. She sat up and waited for him to offer his hand to help her, but he had turned back to the counter and was finishing his apple skinning. Muttering under her breath, she stood up herself, heart still pounding from both the scare and Draco's body being so close against hers.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he shot back. "I was hungry. So I came here to eat."

"At three in the morning?"

He turned back to face her, leaning back against the edge of the counter and nonchalantly taking a bite into his apple. He spoke with his mouth full. "Oh, so I don't have a reason to be here and you do?"

"It is my castle," she pointed out. Watching him eat was beginning to make her stomach feel empty. "Where did you get that?"

"It's the last one," he told her vaguely, and returned to the earlier subject. "This castle is as much yours as it is mine. In fact, when we get married, it will be mine. The king gets everything, not the queen."

She felt a bit queasy. "I expect to be gone before we get married," she replied.

"Gone where? You running away?" Even in the dark, she could see him smirking.

"You know where," she snapped. "The future."

"You know how to get back?"

"No," she admitted, "but I'll find a way."

Then the only sound was Draco crunching loudly on his apple, and Ginny felt embarrassed at the silence. Finally, Draco said, "So are you just going to leave me here?"

The question caught her off guard. "Huh?"

"You said that you expect to be gone before our wedding," he reminded her, no longer smirking. His expression was unreadable. "Does that mean that you will go and I'll just stay here?"

"Well," she said slowly, "I don't know."

"Wonderful," he said dryly, and started towards the door. Ginny knew he was leaving, and was slightly annoyed he didn't even bother to apologize for scaring her or saying goodnight.

"Malfoy," she called after him.

He did not turn, but he stopped halfway to the door.

"If I find a way back, I'll be sure that you come back with me," she said, and blushed furiously. For once she welcomed the dark.

And then something flew back at her, and it bounced off her chest. She just barely managed to catch it in her hands. It was wet and lumpy . . .

"You can have the rest," Draco said, causing her to look up at him. He had opened the door and was glancing over his shoulder, smirking broadly at her.

She looked back down at what was in her hands. Shocked, she looked back up to see that he had disappeared.

He had given her his half-eaten apple core.



* * *



To Ginny's ultimate disappointment, when she woke up the next morning, it was to Maria shaking her out of sleep. She was still in her large, antique room and she was still wearing the long white nightgown she'd gone to bed in. She was still a princess living back in the seventeenth century.

And she was still getting married to Draco.

She nearly moaned out loud when she thought of him. Remembering last night, at how she'd immediately thrown out the apple core he'd given her, made her head pound and her stomach flutter at the same time. A thought that had kept her awake nearly the rest of the night had been, Why did he take so long to get up off me?

Of course, it was probably because he was just trying to get her annoyed with him. For some reason it'd had the exact opposite reaction on her - she'd wanted to stay underneath him, her chest crushed beneath his, his thighs pressed against hers . . .

She shivered like she'd gotten a sudden chill, but Maria was looking down and sliding Ginny's slippers onto her feet and didn't notice.

They both stood up at the same time, and Maria smiled warmly up at her (Ginny being nearly a head taller). "Majesty Draco wasn't all that terrible yesterday, was he?" she asked, her grin turning somewhat mischievous.

Ginny thought briefly. Yes, it had been pretty terrible, considering he was still his nasty, arrogant self. That he was the only one she could talk to about what a mess they were in, and how they were to escape it. But she just shrugged at Maria without saying anything.

She was still smiling knowingly as she dressed Ginny in a rather simple dress of light blue. This time Ginny did her own hair, though she ended up leaving most of it down, only pinning some strands up so they wouldn't fall in an unruly mass into her face. Staring at the mirror, pretending to be busy with her hair, she thought deeply.

This was not a one-day thing. So what did that mean? She'd known from the beginning it wasn't a dream. And it wasn't like someone used a Time-Turner on her because there was no way possible that she could have come back into the real past and been a princess everyone knew. It was just impossible.

What if she was here long enough to actually marry Draco? Could she somehow weasel her way out of the marriage?

No. She frowned at her reflection. The way our "parents" were talking last night at lunch . . . they want us to be wed too much for them to even consider calling off the marriage. I couldn't convince them to call off the wedding.

She contemplated running away. But where would that get her? Everyone would be looking for her - there wouldn't be any place safe. Not to mention if she was trying to keep her face hidden from the world she would never be able to find out how to get to the future again.

I also so much as promised that I'd come back with Malfoy, she thought glumly. God, how embarrassing. I can't believe I said that.

Breakfast was much like lunch had been the previous day. Ginny concentrated on eating, lost in her own thoughts. She was tired of worrying about her betrothal to Draco, so she fixed her mind on the dilemma with Harry.

How could she fix their relationship when she didn't know what happened? All she knew was that it had to do with Lily's death. And if she hadn't killed her, then why did Harry hate her so much?

Her thoughts were cut into when one of the maids bustled into the dining room, out of breath.

"Majesties," she said quickly, "there's been an emergency. You are needed."

Somehow, her parents and Draco's dad knew exactly which "majesties" the maid was talking to. Ginny's parents stood up immediately and followed the maid out, leaving Elle, Draco, Edward, and her alone at the table. It was silent for a long time, an awkward silence that seemed to ring in Ginny's ears.

Finally, breakfast ended, and Ginny went to find Maria. When she did, Maria had no idea what the emergency was. Frustrated and curious, Ginny went into her room.

What did people do for entertainment during this time? she wondered hotly, staring at the portrait of herself on the wall. She was annoyed that she didn't know what was going on with Harry, that she didn't know what the emergency was, and that it seemed impossible that she could ever get back to the future.

Time trickled by slowly. Ginny found a very boring, very confusing book to attempt to read, but she couldn't concentrate on it. She was seriously debating on whether or not to go and find Draco just so she could have something to do by fighting with him when Maria came in.

Ginny sat up quickly on her bed, setting the book aside. "What happened?" she asked eagerly.

"There has been a mass murder," Maria said soberly. "A family of ten was found slaughtered in their home this morning."

"What?" Ginny felt very cold. She stood up and crossed the room to Maria. "How were they killed?"

"The murderer used a knife," she replied, wiping at her eyes. "The youngest was only two years old."

"Who did it?" Ginny nearly shrieked.

"We don't know yet," Maria replied, sniffling and then throwing back her shoulders. "Now, come along, it's time for tea. You'll be having yours with Highness Draco."

Ginny, forcing the murder issue to the back of her mind, tried not to groan. "Alone?" she asked.

Maria forced a wavering smile. "Would you rather learn to like him before you get married, or after?" she shot back.

They left her room and started to walk slowly down the hall, side by side. "Neither," Ginny said stubbornly. "I don't want to like him. He's horrible."

"If you forgive me for saying so, Majesty, but you are making a bigger deal out of this than need be," Maria said. "He really is a good person. Deep down."

"Very deep down," Ginny muttered, rolling her eyes. "So deep, in fact, we may never see a good Dra - uh, Malfoy."

Maria raised her eyebrows questionably at Ginny's reference to him but didn't say anything.

When Ginny arrived in the room where they were to have tea together, Draco wasn't there yet. Maria left to get him and Ginny sat down at the table that could only seat two people, one across from the other. It was a drafty room, and she was beginning to wish she had a warm teacup in which she could wrap her hands around. But the tea hadn't been served yet, and probably wouldn't be until Draco came.

He arrived five minutes later, which was a rather long time to sit and do nothing. Along with him came Maria carrying a tray of tea, sugar, and milk. Draco sat down heavily across from Ginny, and while Maria distributed the tea things, neither of them spoke. When she left, there was a long silence while Ginny prepared herself a cup, and Draco watched her.

Without looking up, she asked, "What?"

She could almost hear him smirking. "I don't like tea."

Startled, she looked up and met his eyes. Though he was sneering, it was obvious he was telling the truth. "You don't?"

"Didn't I just say I didn't?"

"You're weird," she said, leaning back in her seat with her cup. "Everyone likes tea."

"Everyone as in everyone you know? Well, I've got news for you, Weasley, you don't know everybody."

"Thanks, Draco, I honestly didn't know that."

There was another stretch of silence and Ginny wasn't sure what it was for. She stared down at her tea, and then her words hit her. Oh, God, I just called him by his first name! Her eyes flew up to meet his, and she couldn't read his expression, which annoyed her to no end.

Embarrassed, and blushing under his gaze, she quickly added more sugar to her tea, even though there was already so much in it all of the crystals couldn't dissolve.

"So," Draco finally broke the silence. "Have you discovered a way to get us out of here?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Overnight? No, I haven't."

"Oh yes, I forgot," Draco smirked, "you're a Gryffindor. Gryffindors can't come up with decent plans even if their lives depended on it."

"Then why don't you think of something!" Ginny snapped defensively. "I don't hear you suggesting anything."

"That's because I'm beginning to believe there is nothing we can do," he replied simply, crossing his arms. "We didn't bring ourselves here. How can we bring ourselves back?"

Ginny bit her lower lip and thought for a moment. "Maria mentioned a lady that is magic," she recalled. "Maybe she could tell us something."

"She's probably a fake," Draco muttered.

"Who, Maria?"

"I don't know who the hell Maria is, so how could I be referring to her?" Draco snapped.

"Sorry. If I had known you were going to bite my head off I would've kept my mouth shut."

"That's the smartest thing I think you've ever said, Weasley."

"What's up your ass?" she demanded, setting her cup on the table. He opened his mouth to reply, already sneering, but she cut him off. "Besides me," she said darkly.

"Nothing else." Draco gave her a lopsided grin. Ginny was slightly surprised - she rarely ever saw him grin, just smirk or sneer. "Just you."

"Thank you," she said sarcastically. "Now do you think we could have a civilized conversation for once?"

"I don't think so. I've never had one civilized conversation with a Weasley before."

"Well you've never spoken to me before," she declared fiercely.

"And I'm beginning to wish I hadn't."

Ginny glared at him for a long moment, frustrated beyond belief. He had to be the most annoying human being on the planet. And I'm fortunate enough to be stuck with him, she thought furiously. "Did you hear why my, uh, parents left during breakfast this morning?" she asked. This topic was sure to cause him to be serious, or at least get her mind off how irritating he was.

"No, and you know what? I could care less."

"Ten people were murdered," she told him anyway. "One of them was a two-year-old child."

Draco stared at her for a moment, his face once again unreadable. "That's terrible," he said without much feeling. "But I remember clearly stating that I don't care."

Her eyes widened. How can someone be so heartless? she wondered. "You bloody . . . insufferable . . ." she sputtered, unable to find the words that described him.

"I could sit here, drink tea, and have civilized conversations with you all day, Weasley," he said rather pleasantly, standing up. "But I'm afraid I'd rather perform the Cruciatus Curse on myself."

She stood up so she was closer to his eye level. He wasn't really so much taller than her, and Ginny had always wanted to marry someone nearly a head taller, someone who could pick her up in his arms and carry her to bed . . . Which is yet another reason why I can't marry Malfoy, she thought, glowering at him. He stared at her, an amused smile on his lips, and made no attempt to leave.

"We'll be divorced in a month," he said.

"We're not going to get married!" she exclaimed, and then felt a little stupid at her outburst. She lowered her voice and continued. "As I've stated before, I hope to be back at Hogwarts by the time Christmas comes."

"Good luck," he said. He turned and started to walk towards the door. Ginny's eyes followed him, narrowed angrily.

"Do you want us to get married?!" she shrieked, her patience lost. "Is that what you want? Is that why you just don't care?"

He spun around, halfway to the door. Ginny could tell she had angered him; his eyes were considerably darker. "Of course I care. I don't want to marry you. This whole situation is fucking ridiculous. But there's nothing I can do about it. So why should I sit here and whine about it like you are doing?"

How could she have ever enjoyed having him on top of her? Now she wanted to hit him. She wanted to hit him so bad her fingers curled in anticipation. But he was halfway across the room, and could easily crush her. Just because she was nearly as tall as him didn't mean she was stronger. With that look in his eyes, causing them to darken from steel gray to ash gray, he looked capable of anything, angry enough to do anything. She felt some of her own frustrations melt away into something close to fear, but she knew she couldn't be afraid of Draco Malfoy. She wouldn't allow herself to be.

He finally ripped his gaze from hers and turned, stalking the rest of the way to the door. When his back was to her, and she could no longer see his expression, she felt braver. "I hate you!" she screamed, aware of how childish she was being and not caring. "Go to hell, Malfoy!"

He slammed the door without even so much as acknowledging that he'd heard her. Ginny dropped back into her seat, so angry and frustrated she could scream. If I don't calm down soon I'll end up ripping out my hair, she thought, breathing hard.

But she couldn't calm down. Everything was so hopeless and maddening . . . she was marrying someone she couldn't stand to look at, she didn't have anyone to complain to, she didn't know how to get back to her normal time, and the one person she hoped she could speak with couldn't stand to look at her.

All the anger bubbled up inside her until she couldn't take it anymore. She grabbed her teacup and flung it at the door with a short scream. Even though he was already out of hearing distance, she shouted again, "I hate you!"

The cup shattered into many pieces and dropped to the floor, tea splattered on the door. Ginny stared at it for a moment, then stood up and hurried out of the room, not bothering to clean up the mess she'd made. Who cared if it would give the servants something else to hate her for, cleaning up the mess of a cup she'd purposely broken, she just needed to get out of the castle before she went insane.

She didn't bother to get a cloak; she went right outside to the gardens. The cold felt marvelous on her flushed cheeks, and being out of the stuffy, confined castle made her feel a great deal calmer. Crunching through the snow, she crossed her arms tightly over her chest and stared down. She was wearing small high-heeled shoes, and snow seeped in, but once again she didn't care.

The tears she had been holding for the past twenty-four hours finally came. She let them drip off her face, not bothering to wipe them away.

She spent a lot of time out there, walking and not really seeing any of the dormant plants that made up the gardens. When she finally decided to go back inside she felt much better, even calm, despite the fact her feet, nose, and fingers were frozen stiff.

Ginny returned to her room and lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling. She knew soon it would be lunch time, and then she'd have to face Draco again.

She was dreading it.