Promise Me One Thing

Looking back, the way I felt is a complete picture in my mind. The love I felt in that first dreaming, when our youth was holding on with brittle fingers. My faded dreams are lovely, with faint lines worn in where I’ve folded them into my memory. Forgetting when my love turned bitter, when we all realized that we could not truly stand against the shadows in our bitter eyes.

I like to remember us the way we were, unbroken, optimistic, seeing the cruelty of the world, but disregarding it. Determined that childhood dreams could stand against the horrors to come. Never guessing that love does not always prevail. Never dreaming that one day our lives would be haunted by shadows of the past. For now, we sit still, watching golden moments wither, drawing back from the darkness we held locked in our hearts. I wear my scars like armor, using them to protect myself from the shards of my shattered dreams. The dreams I thought we shared, trusting him, letting him carry my hope on his shoulders. His young shoulders, carrying the burden of an entire people, bent, broken before their time. We lived. We survived, when people we had known, people we had loved, did not. We lived to dream again, to hope again. To love again.

I had loved him before. I had loved the person he was, braver than he had to be, stronger than we thought, wiser than we all knew. He was a boy, really. A boy that was left to save the world, he was expected to change destiny. But I cannot love him now. We lost too much of ourselves on the fight, we let go of too many things. I was almost relieved to find that he felt the same way. That he knew that it was the price we had to pay. He understood that we were not the same people. We loved each other, we really did, but not the way we had before. I mourn our unborn children, the life we could have had.

In the days after our victory, there were whispers, rumors about what the four of us had done, how we had killed the greatest wizard that had ever lived, the most evil, the most terrible. They all wanted to know what had happened in those last minutes, how things had come to pass. We kept our mouths shut, trying to protect him from the stares, the whispers, like he didn’t notice the crowds edging around him. The Daily Prophet gossip columns were abuzz with reports that he wasn't even human. He was far more, not because he was marked. Not because he was chosen. I think he was born that way. Different, beyond our comprehension.

"I don’t know why he can do that. I don’t understand either. Do it again, if you can, Harry."

Even Dumbledore was amazed, delighted. We all were.

"It was amazing, Harry. I love you," I whispered, in awe of him, like everyone else.

He had grinned back, green eyes sparkling. He was bashfully proud of his power. His humility made his need to be accepted adorable. No one could resist Harry. He was charmingly intoxicating.

"I’m glad you liked it, Gin," he said, his expression delighted. We stood in the rain, arms wrapped around each other, so in love the rest of the world was too far away to see.

In the end, it was us who made the difference. Her, my brother and I. In my mind she is always her. She was my best friend. She was the one that I looked up to. My hero. Her name is now bitter in my mouth. I will learn to forgive, I will live to be her friend again.

I stood outside the door, with my back pressed against it, shoulders slumped under the weight of the things she had just told me. My tears were bitter as they ran down my face. He couldn't possibly find happiness with me, but with her it was another story.

I’m happy for them now, I’m happy that they can live in happiness like Harry and I never could. Unlike my brother, who lives life in the bottle now. Lavender had been so cruel to him. She had smashed his hopes, knowing that she was the object of his dreams. She did it because she could. Because she felt more important. But I have plans for Ron...

" Luna? Could you come home for the weekend? I’m sure the shop can do all right without you. Oh, god thanks. I want you to see someone. No, you’ve met before."

This is how life goes on, how our lives are re-built. I refuse to let the scars cover me anymore. I refuse to let my head go under.

I jumped into the murky black water, my feet slamming into the muddy bottom, kicking myself up. It’s too deep. I'm going to drown. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? To drown and never look back, never have to? Strong arms had pulled me up. Gray eyes had stared into my brown ones, as I lay shuddering, gasping for air on the muddy shore.

"Now, now Virginia, we won’t have that! We need our noble Weasleys!"

His sneers and smiles alike had haunted me those last months. It took me the longest time to realize he was on our side. Harry had told me. Harry and Draco were friends, companions, they worked as a team, and they fought side by side. Dumbledore had been the one to finally force me to believe. His explanation had hurt my heart.

"He doesn’t like his father Ginny, but he has to love him, don’t you see? But he will never stand for what his father does. He will not walk that path," His wise eyes had held mine, and I had shook my head, my young mind unable to comprehend how Draco could love his father, who had such darkness in him.

I eventually came to be good friends with Draco. His joking insults were endearing, his wit consuming, his sarcasm refreshing. His bitterness was salve for my torn heart. It was medicine that tasted of candy.

"After all that’s happened, there shouldn’t be any Death Eaters!" I was close to tears. It all confused me so. Draco tried to explain, shook his head at me.

"Just because they don’t have a leader, doesn’t mean their beliefs have changed. You are so naïve, Virginia," he explained gently, though his silver eyes sparkled.

"Why do you laugh at me, Draco. You’re an Auror. You have to know more than me."

All of us had gotten influential jobs after that final battle. There were too many Death Eaters left. Too many bruised egos, to many people with a taste for revenge. We had our hands full, but even with my high position, and all the things I had been through, the innocence that I still possessed had been an amusing quality to Draco.

"We’ll be at war our entire lives, Ginny." His tone was morose, his eyes serious. "This is what we were born to do."

An Unspeakable. I was going to be an unspeakable. My heart was full to bursting. I had outgrown my own expectations. I was more than I thought I could be. He was so proud of me.

"Look at Aunt Ginny, Camellia, isn’t she fabulous?" I’m their aunt. Aunt Ginny. I guess he is more like my brother now. More like Ron, my dearest Ron, my favorite brother, my brave brother, who stood until the end? Who cannot stand now.

"I can’t even walk Ginny, I can’t walk! Who wants a man who can’t walk?" Luna does. I smiled. Luna, whose goofy ways has saved us, who’s gentle nature had longed for my brother. My fiery brother, who was now hell on wheels.

"Can I have a ride, Uncle Ron?" Dark haired Camellia’s hands straining toward him, green eyes sparkling. She had brought him back, her laughter had turned his head, had healed his heart, with Luna’s help of course.

So now I sit, dreading five minutes from now. I fret, fingers worrying at a tiny thread, tugging it, and twisting it. My mind races with worries of what might have gone wrong. It was against his nature to be tardy. Draco had become my best friend. It was in my nature to be drawn to his darkness, the bitterness that he held onto no matter what, the biting quality of his tones, the inflection of his voice. I knew everything about him. Except the one thing that I was dying to know. The one thing that I had pondered since the day he left. A flash of silver, a tall, handsome man, dressed in black. I can’t help myself, jumping from my perch on the park bench. I meet him halfway, throwing my arms around him, burying my head in his shoulder, the smooth fabric caressing my cheek.

“Did you miss me, Ginny?” His eyes twinkle, he knows. I know he does. I know that he can tell. Is he laughing at me? I’m not a child, I can do this, I can feel however I want.

“Of course I did Draco, I had to watch your house while you were gone. I had to deal with your maids, and your mother, and oh, god. Yes, I missed you. I missed you so much Draco. I missed the way you smell. The way that you wrinkle your nose when things don‘t go your way. The way you hate caviar, the way you insist on only drinking butterbeer from the bottle. I missed the way you read the newspaper backwards, and the way you pick on the Cannons, even though they’re your favorite team. I missed the way that you talk to Harry, the way you quarrel, even though you love us all. I missed the way that you insist on being the Slytherin among Gryffindors, the way that you insist that you’re so evil, when you know we all love you back. ” I choke on my emotion. I’ve ruined it now. It was supposed to be eloquent, gorgeous, soothing to the ears. My ears are rushing, my heart pounding. He’s staring. The only thing that I can think is that he must be shocked, appalled. I shake my head. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. Mum always said that I should think before I get carried away-” Draco cut me off.

“I love you.” His silver eyes are serious, his corn-silk hair brushing his temples.

“What? What did you say?” I can’t breathe. I feel like I’m drowning. I feel like I’ll never breathe again. I shake my head, my eyes swimming. I didn’t hear him right. He’s joking with me. He’s teasing me again. You’d think we would have outgrown these old habits. I smile softly. “Draco, I couldn’t possibly have heard you right. I thought I heard you say-”

“I love you, Ginny. I love you so much it hurts. I spent weeks in Paris longing for you. I dreamed of you every night. I’m beyond love, you are my obsession. My obsession.” He grabs my hand, clutching it, bringing it to his lips. “I wasn’t sure how you felt. I didn’t want to loose you. I can’t bear the thought that you can live without me, because I was slowly dying without you. I was wasting away. God, Ginny. You are so gorgeous. For a Weasley of course.” He grins that old grin, the one he used to tear me down all those years ago. I stare. “I’m joking, Virginia. I’m joking," he says. Laughing nervously, holding onto my hand like his life depends on it. "You are gorgeous. Much prettier than Hermione. I never did see what Harry saw in her. She is pretty, of course, in a way that is common. Thousands of girls look like her, their faces blend together. But you- you are sunlight, you are fire. You are red wine and chocolates. I could drown in your eyes. Your skin is like cinnamon sprinkled ivory. Your eyes are like young trees, your-” I pressed my finger to his lips and saw dread fill his eyes. “Ginny, if you rejected me now, if you said that you don’t feel the same way-” I interrupt him, laughing softly.

“Patience was never your strong point, Draco. Shush. I’m trying to make some type of declaration here.” His eyes sparkle, making them look like sparking flint. “Now that you are quiet, My Dragon,” I run my hands down his arms. “I only have one thing to say.” He looks a bit worried.

“What Ginny?” Seeing my grin, he sputters, “For Merlin’s sake woman, you could kill a man that way. Just bloody say it!”

“I love you too, Draco Malfoy. And you must promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“You must always be sarcastic. Always. I love you for your rough edges.