Violets Are Blue

Violets Are Blue

"There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness."

--Friedrich Nietzsche

Draco Malfoy had always done what he pleased, especially in his school years at Hogwarts. He was rude, stand-offish, selfish, moody, and proud, and for one simple reason: he wanted to be that way. No one had ever bothered correcting him, mostly because his manners were near perfect, and most of his fellow classmates at Hogwarts were simply too frightened- whether they cared to admit it or not- to mention his temper and mildly inappropriate behavior. That is, until she came into his life. Now, not only was he rude, stand-offish, selfish, moody, and proud, he was also obsessively protective and extremely jealous when regarding his beautiful red-headed temptress.

It had all fatefully begun during the summer of Draco's sixth year, after he had betrayed the Death Eaters, his father, and Lord Voldemort himself by failing to kill Dumbledore. After he and Snape spent days and days fleeing Hogwarts or anyone with any kind of authority, they ended up at number twelve Grimmauld Place, taking shelter within the Order of the Phoenix. That's when all the madness began- all the madness that was called 'falling in love'.

[flashback, June 1996]

"I don't bloody care why it's a good idea, Professor-" Draco practically sneered the last word. "- but under no circumstances am I being placed in the care of Ginny sodding Weasley. She's a blood traitor, she's a Muggle-lover, she's... " His voice trailed off when the older man held up his hand.

"Enough, Draco. And please mind your language. We are in someone else's house now, and they are all gracious enough to believe what we say and let us hide here. There is really no need to insult them on top of things. And furthermore, the Order does not distinguish between pure blood, Muggle-born, and the like. Although these differences exist, that is not what matters here."

Draco sat down on the bed in his makeshift bedroom, and crossed his arms. "Well, anyway, I don't need looking after. I don't need taking care of. I can take care of my self, thanks." He turned his head to look out the window, indicating he wanted to discuss this subject no more.

Snape sighed rather loudly, and rubbed his temples with the tips of his fingers. "This isn't just about you, Draco, and what you may or may not need. This will help Ginny, too, although she may never realize it. Ginny has been stuck here for a whole month, and she will be for at least the rest of the summer. Harry has broken up with her, and left to do gods only know what, and her older brothers and even Granger don't really include her in much anymore. She's lonely, Draco, something I'm sure you can sympathize with." Draco winced but said nothing, and Snape continued. "So let her look after you while we're here, Draco. Eat meals with her, talk to her, laugh with her, be her friend. That's all she needs right now."

Snape took one look at Draco's face and shook his head a bit sadly. "I should have known you wouldn't give a rat's ass...," he mumbled under his breath. "Just think about it, Draco, will you?"

The older man sighed again and stood to leave, closing the door softly behind him. When he was alone once more, Draco stretched out on the bed and closed his eyes, finally feeling the effects of a mind-numbing headache he'd been having lately. In a mere month, his entire world had turned upside down. He betrayed his father's friends, turned his father over to the Minister anonymously, and now here he was, laying on a bed in the most ancient house of Black, with a houseful of blood traitors. And he was expected to befriend one? He almost smiled at the thought.

Many hours later Draco found himself wandering aimlessly around one of the upstairs hallways in the house, looking at all the old Black family heirlooms and treasure that Sirius hadn't destroyed nearly two years ago, or that Kreacher hadn't horded away somewhere. He found old wizarding photographs, some even of his parents, a squat gold cup bearing the family crest, and then, hidden under a pile of books that gave off a foul oder and growled when he touched them, he saw it. He opened the black velvet ring box to reveal a captivating piece of jewelry, a slender gold ring with a small but beautiful sapphire, heart-shaped with two tiny diamonds on either side. Although he had know way of knowing it then, that ring would soon be forever a part of his life, a part of her life. He turned the box over in his hands curiously, and saw 'N. B. M.' inscribed in minute gold script on the bottom. That would have to be my mother, he thought, not turning around when he heard someone's heavy footsteps down the hall.

"Draco, here you are. This really isn't the type of house you want to wander around in," Snape drawled, coming up behind Draco to look at what he was holding in his hands.

"This is my mother's, isn't it? Why is it here, and not at the Manor?"

Snape smiled dryly. "Because your mother is a smart woman. That ring is very precious to her, as it was given to her by her mother. In fact, every woman in the Black family has a ring quite similar to this one. The reason it is here and not elsewhere, with her, is that when she married Lucius Malfoy, she knew he might be caught up in a bit of a mess involving Voldemort and the Dark Arts. So she kept it here, with Sirius, although no one was to ever know, as Sirius was considered a traitor to the family."

"I see," was all Draco said. He replaced the box and looked at Snape, waiting for him to reveal what he really wanted.

"Of course, as you realize, I didn't come up here to give you a history lesson. Have you thought about what I've asked of you?"

Draco snorted. "Yeah, I've thought about it, and I think it's bloody rubbish. Sir," he added in an undertone.

Snape said nothing at first, just sighed and shook his head. He seemed to be doing a lot of that these days. "Draco, I'm going to tell you something that few people know about, including your father. Hopefully, this information will influence your decision." Draco simply stared at him. Snape sighed again. "Very well. Be difficult, if you must. Walk with me, Draco."

Trying hard not to roll his eyes, Draco followed his former potions master down the hall, shoving his hands in his pockets as he did so.

"Draco, what I'm going to tell you may be hard for you to believe. All I ask is that you do not interrupt me; let me finish completely before you ask questions." Draco gave a curt nod, and Snape went on. "Many years ago, Draco, before you were even born, your mother was very good friends with another witch from a respectable wizarding family, not unlike the Blacks or the Malfoys-- the Prewetts." Draco swallowed a mouthful of air, but allowed Snape to continue. "As I was saying, Narcissa was wonderful friends with this woman, who would happen to be none other than Molly Prewett Weasley. Long ago, they made a pact that two of their children would become betrothed, and later wed, at their births. However, when Molly married Arthur Weasley, and Narcissa married Lucius Malfoy, things changed. Arthur and Lucius shared a hatred of one another that stretched centuries back, an ancient family feud that made it impossible for the two friends to even mention their plan to their respective husbands."

Snape took a moment to look at Draco, to try and read his facial expression. As Snape predicted, it was impossible to do. Finally Draco muttered, "Go on," and they continued their walk down one of the infamously long stretches of hallway in the Black house. Again Snape sighed.

"Eventually, Molly and Narcissa lost touch, and their idea seemed ridiculous anyway, even if their husbands would permit it to be carried out, as Molly had only sons, and Narcissa only one son- you," Snape said, as if that fact needed to be cleared up. "That is, until a summer day in 1981, when Molly gave birth to a daughter, Ginevra Molly." Again, Snape heard Draco gulp a mouthful of air. "When Narcissa heard this, she contacted her long lost friend, hoping to discuss some way of still carrying out their plan. However, it would prove to be impossible, and eventually was given up on." Snape seemed to be finished with his story, so Draco took this opportunity to speak.

"So you're saying... you're saying... I could have been marrying Weasley? I mean... Ginny?" He sputtered over these words, not sure what to think. "And my mother and Molly were friends? But I always thought our families-"

"You weren't listening very carefully, were you? I already explained it to you, it's your father and Ginny's father who has the prejudice, not Molly or Narcissa. You see, Draco, the only reason you hate the Weasleys so is because of your father's influence," Snape finished triumphantly.

"Well, yeah, but..." Draco's voice carried off into the musty air of the third-floor hall. He was becoming frustrated; he felt very much like a small child, and not at all like the man of almost seventeen that he was.

"What did any of the Weasleys ever actually do to you, Draco?" Snape couldn't help but smirk at the look on the boy's face.

"Potter- and Weasley goes along with him, and-"

"Did you not provoke them every time, Draco?"

"I- but I... I have to... go somewhere." He turned his back to Snape and began the long walk to the other end of the hallway to the stairs, almost running all the way to his room.

Draco sat on the lumpy mattress that was his bed, and stared off into space, trying not to think the thoughts he knew he needed to. He rubbed his neck, an old habit when he was nervous or uncomfortable, and laid back on the squishy pillows. He closed his eyes for a few moments, trying in vain to grasp onto sleep, but finally he could keep the thoughts out no longer. He just found it impossible to believe that right now, at this very moment, he could be preparing- happily?- for a pleasant summer wedding to Ginny Weasley. He almost laughed when he though of what his father's reaction would have been. And of course, his father was right. The Weasleys were blood traitors, Muggle-lovers, and so forth. He would never dream of diluting the purest bloodline, the Malfoys, with that filth. See, there you go again. Talking just like your father. He feels that way about the Weasleys, but how do you feel? Can't you even think for yourself anymore? A little nagging voice in the back of his mind wouldn't let him forget everything Snape had said. As much as it killed him to admit, Snape was right. The Weasleys really hadn't done anything to him, specifically. Honestly, if it weren't for his father's prejudice, he could actually find the Weasleys pleasant. Then again...

Draco sighed loudly in frustration. He got out of bed when he quickly realized that sleep would not easily find him. Making his way quietly down the stairs, he looked around. He hadn't realized how late it was; everyone seemed to be in their rooms. He entered the kitchen and lit a candle, something that always seemed to soothe him. As he inhaled the smoky scents, he was hardly aware of another presence in the room. Light footsteps on the tiled floor made him stiffen and turn around.

"Hel- hello," came Ginny Weasley's quiet greeting, as she stood in the shadows of the doorway.

"Hello." Draco gave her a short nod. He pulled out one of the kitchen chairs and sat down, putting his head in his hands. Ginny looked at him tentatively for a moment, and then got herself a glass of pumpkin juice. She wordlessly offered the glass to Draco, but he declined, so she sat down across from him. Neither one of them really knew what to say, as they had never really spoken before.

Finally Ginny broke the silence. "I guess we could both use someone to talk to, huh?" Her voice was soft, and she looked down into her pumpkin juice. Draco took this opportunity to study her. The moon was particularly bright tonight, and she was sitting just in front of a tall window, so the moonlight reflected prettily on her dark red hair. He noticed that she looked thinner than he'd ever seen her look at school, and the high prominence of her cheek bones were beginning to show. As he continued his study, her eyes suddenly fluttered up, and she looked right into him. Her cheeks instantly pinkened with a soft blush, and some strange, dark part of him wanted to grab her and pull her down to the floor and kiss her.

"I- Weasley, I mean, Ginny, I... Snape wants-"

She shook her head tiredly. "Yes, I know what Professor Snape wants. He wants to force you to be friends with me, because Ron, Hermione, and Harry are gone. He thinks I'm lonely, desperate, and friendless..." She sighed. "And he's right." She looked up, and met his gaze again. "But of course, I don't expect you to be jumping up and down to befriend me, either," she added quickly.

Draco took a moment to respond. The conversation he'd had with Snape earlier that night still preoccupied his thoughts. True, she was a Weasley, but he found himself wondering why that even mattered anymore. He began to think that the feud their fathers had carried on between the families was very petty, and very immature. She was a Weasley, yes, but also a person. A person who was probably just as lonely and depressed as he. A person who, not unlike himself, just wanted someone to listen to her. And on top of that, she was bloody gorgeous.

"Ginny, why don't we... why don't we try talking? It can't hurt us any more than we've already been hurt," he said with a small smile. Ginny sipped her juice, and when she set the glass down again, he was rather happy to see that she had returned his smile.

Unsure of where to start, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "Do you miss Potter?" He realized after he'd said the words that it was a very stupid question.

Ginny paled, and squirmed in her chair. She took a long time to answer. "I'm not really sure. I don't know if I miss him, per se, or just the way he made me feel. I miss... I miss feeling like I was the most important person in the world to him, to anyone, really. It was as if he would do anything for me, and now that he's gone, I'm not sure that I'll ever find anything like that again." Her eyes began to tear up, and she cleared her throat, a little embarrassed by her confession; she had never told these feelings to anyone before.

Draco, once again at a loss for words, unconsciously leaned across the table and brushed the tears off her face, not even realizing what he was doing. He felt rather bad for her, to be honest. She was a girl who had been thrown into this whole mess, the war, the Death Eaters, the Order, everything, and what made it worse was that for more years than he knew, she had loved Harry Potter with all her heart, and when he had finally given her the attention she deserved, he'd up and left. Still leaning across the small table, he ran his fingers across her cheek lightly, until she closed her eyes and opened them to reveal another misty curtain of tears. He jerked his hand away and sat back down.

"I'm sorry, Ginny, I wasn't even thinking."

She nodded, and pushed back from table, standing up rather shakily. "Thank you for listening to me, Draco Malfoy. I would love it if we could talk again." She reached the doorway before he stood also and grabbed her forearm gently.

"I really am sorry, Ginny."

She smiled at him weakly. "I know."

After she'd gone, Draco sat in his chair for a very long time, trying to think. He couldn't quite place a finger on it, but there was just something about Ginny Weasley that made him want to act foolishly, to become her new knight-in-shining-armor, to talk to her every night for the rest of his life. There was something about her that couldn't help but make him wonder- only fleetingly- what they would have been talking about had their mothers' plan actually come to be.

And all the while, unbeknownst to Draco, or Ginny, for that matter, Severus Snape stood hidden in the adjoining dining room, where he'd observed the entire meeting. As the success of his plan began to show, he couldn't help but smirk to himself. Befriend a Weasley, indeed.

When Draco finally made it up to his bedroom, he tossed and turned under his sheets, waking suddenly at the end of a very vivid dream, where he and Ginny had shared a kiss at the end of their wedding ceremony, smiling happily as their mothers hugged each other. Then, Potter showed up and Ginny started crying, and Draco hexed him and ended up in Azkaban, right alongside his father, and Ginny was no happier than when they'd started out. That's when he'd woken up, sweating a bit and breathing heavily. It was only a dream, he told himself over and over again. For if it had been real, he would have killed Potter, not merely hexed him.

Minutes later, Draco drifted back to sleep, a faint smirk on his face at the thought of killing Harry.