Trademark smirks and Temperamental redheads

Chapter 22 - Resolutions shatter (Seventh Year)

She walked in, carrying about her a different air. Elegance. That was the only word to describe her. She had grown taller. Though nowhere near her brothers' towering heights, she was by no means short. She had inherited her mother's curvaceous figure without the plumpness. Draco could see her curves clearly with her every move, her body no longer dressed in hand-me-downs from her brothers. The robes she wore were rather plain and casual, but the way she moved beneath the folds and creases made them seem as if they were designed for someone higher than the average crowd. It was a cream color, designed to fit casually rather than revealing, its pale color illuminating her fiery hair that flowed over her shoulders and down her back. Her hair shone crimson and gold in the glow of the fire, the ends slightly wavy.

Ginny Weasley was no longer the little girl whose image she had left behind a year ago, along with Draco. Looking at her now made him realize just how out of reach she was to him. Draco felt the resentment course through his body; he had resolved to forget her, to despise her. And yet the sight of her aroused the passion within him, it fought to break loose, for him to lose control and surrender himself to her.

Her eyes scanned the crowd, easily looking over the heads of the chatting students, finally coming to a halt as she met his gaze. He fixed her with cold, expressionless eyes, as if he were not staring at her, but through her. He refused to acknowledge her, to allow her the satisfaction of knowing he had been unable to forget about her. She broke eye contact as her friends hurried to her, reaching up to give her warm hugs, and chatting excitedly. He watched as her face brightened, smiling and laughing with her friends, her elegance never once wavering, blending with an affectionate air.

She joined the Trio and her friends at the Gryffindor table, not giving him a second glance. All through dinner Draco gazed at her backside, unable to remove his eyes, even as his mind protested at his infatuation.

He watched as she laughed at Potter's joke, unconsciously putting a hand on his arm; such an affectionate, adoring gesture. He looked on in disgust; she was so open, so warm and friendly to everyone. But where was the love he deserved? She never turned around; never saw him staring at her. Watching. Wanting. Waiting.

She had spent a year remodeling herself, enjoying a new school, new friends and a new atmosphere, and when she returned she was welcomed back warmly by all her friends. She had forgotten him, forgotten their love.

She's mine! His body screamed out as his fist tightened beneath the table, his jaw clenched tightly and lips twitching spasmodically. And yet his mind told him differently, she doesn't care about you anymore; you're nothing to her. Look at the way she touches him, she's not in love with you, she's in love with him! She's not yours any longer, all you can do is stand in the shadows and remain forever discarded. Stop being a fool!

He couldn't contain himself anymore, feeling anger, panic and dread at having his thoughts materialize in front of his eyes. He stood up, straightening rigidly and walked out of the Hall.

~~~

Ginny quietly padded up to her dormitory to grab a cloak, stifling a tired yawn as her eyelids began to feel heavy.

She had caught Draco's eye during dinner tonight, but before she had time to begin any form of communication with him, Melissa and Sara had run over to her, demanding she tell them all about Beauxbatons. Her narration had continued on when they returned to the common room, and it wasn't until she promised to continue first thing the next morning, that they had relented and gone upstairs to bed.

Then she'd had to sit in front of the fire, pretending to be perusing her potions manual until everyone had deserted the common room in favor of his or her warm, soft beds for the night.

It had been a year since she had seen Draco, and there was no way she'd wait until tomorrow. Quietly, she climbed through the portrait hole and ignored the Fat Lady who demanded to know what she was doing out after curfew in a huffy voice.

Surprisingly, she managed to make her way all the way down to the dungeons without any problems. Not one to linger about and wonder at the sudden good fortune bestowed upon her, Ginny quickly looked around to make sure she was standing in front of the entrance to the Slytherin common room. There, she opened her mouth and paused, silently cursing herself for her stupidity. She didn't even know the password!

"Pureblood?" she said in a questioning voice, relying heavily on the Slytherin pride. She remembered Draco telling her that password was recycled once every couple of months. On cue, the brick wall in front of her slide open to reveal the Slytherin common room, bathed in green light as usual. Glancing around, Ginny spotted Pansy in the corner, instead of an angry glare or hateful words, Pansy merely gestured toward the direction of Draco's room and gave a slight nod.

~~~

Draco had been in his room for hours, immersing himself into the new Advanced Potions syllabus. One reason why he enjoyed Potions so much, apart from having his Head of House tendering bias praise to him every lesson, was the thorough art of Potions, which required his full attention and concentration. It was therefore, a very convenient way for him to direct his mind away from the matter of Ginny Weasley, that is, until a faint knock on the door concluded his self-imposed exile from reality.

"Draco, it's me. May I come in?" Ginny's soft voice sounded from outside the door.

Most certainly not! Was at the tip of Draco's tongue, but he refrained; it would be a waste of time to lie to himself that he didn't want to see Ginny. He made his way across the room and opened the door, holding it open for Ginny to enter.

"Did you need something?" Draco asked coldly, as soon as Ginny stepped into the room. He turned and closed the door, before turning around and waiting expectantly for an answer.

"Did I need something? Draco, I hope you're not still holding a grudge against me for going on the exchange," Ginny said, slight bewilderment and surprise in her tone.

Draco merely stood there, arms crossed, glaring a hole through the carpet and looking defiant.

"Didn't you read the letters I sent you? I wrote you every week, almost every day if I could," she said, her eyes searching for an answer on Draco's blank expression.

He walked over to his desk and pulled out the top drawer, then went and sat on the bed, ignoring her. She went to the drawer slowly, and gasped in surprise. There, inside were her letters, all of them, in date order, neatly stacked one on top of the other and staring up at her. And they lay, unopened. Ginny picked one up and turned it over, noticing its unbroken seal, she frowned, picking up several letters at random; all of their seals were intact. She turned around to face him, confused and angry. What was he playing at?

"Why?" she demanded simply, she spoke quietly, but her tone told him she refused to be ignored.

"I couldn't," he began, swinging his legs up on the bed so he stared at the ceiling. "When you left, I vowed to forget you, to hate you for the lowly muggle lover that you are. And then when I closed my eyes I'd see your face, when I slept I'd dream of you, everything was you and there was nothing left of me. You took a part of me with you when you left, and it was like I couldn't function without. Merlin knows how much I wanted to read your letters, every single one of them, and yet when I touched them I felt you, I smelt your scent lingering on the paper and I felt repulsed. I was disgusted with myself, to know you had such control over me, and yet you chose to leave, to abandon me."

"You walked away from me Draco Malfoy, do you know how hard it was for me? Settling in to a new school and writing with my heart and soul to someone I thought cared about me? I never received one letter from you, not one, but still I wrote, still I believed," she replied coldly, though her eyes were damp with tears that threatened to overflow.

"What was I supposed to do then?" he demanded harshly, finally turning his head to read her expression. She stood rigidly in the middle of the room, her fists tight and her face red.

"I needed you to trust me, to trust me to make my own decisions and to live my own life. I needed you to believe in us and to believe that I would come back to you like I have. I wanted to use our time apart to think, to think about what we were and how we were going to continue. I'd hoped for a little more maturity from you Draco, but I guess that was too much to expect."

"Maturity? I do hope you understand what maturity means before you start throwing it about like that. Maturity isn't about trying to act unfazed whenever something goes wrong, and hoping fervently that nobody can tell you're scared. Maturity is the ability to have childish thoughts; the ability to wish and dream for things you know cannot materialise into reality, but to be able to keep yourself from letting those emotions affect your judgment. Running away to another country when your problems get too hot to handle, that's not maturity. Don't lecture me on maturity when you're the one who so childishly abandoned me," Draco replied heatedly.

You've spent the entire year obsessing about how I abandoned you? As much as you like to believe that you're the victim in this whole matter, you're not, so stop with the theatrics. I thought about you all the time when I was away, I did not, and am not, secretly rendezvousing with Harry behind your back. Why can't you just trust me!" she shouted, her tears finally sliding rapidly down her face.

"That's funny, since when have I been the type to trust, to have faith? If you loved me you wouldn't have left me. Whatever it was, we could have worked it out together, but you couldn't do that, you couldn't put your faith in me that I would be able to help. All because of that diary, it isolated you from the others, you felt like you couldn't ever rely on anyone else but yourself and Potter. You are hardly someone to give me a lecture on trust Weasley," Draco said tonelessly, he was tired. Tired of this conversation, of resisting loving her, of their arguments.

"Have you ever stopped to think that maybe this isn't about the diary? That it has nothing to do with Harry? It's about us, Draco. It's always been about us. Would you have preferred I stayed last year and watched your initiation ceremony? Maybe even throw you a celebration party afterwards for joining the most feared and sinful cult in the history of wizardkind? You need help, but you won't trust anyone, even me, that's why I went away, because it was the only way I could lose you without losing a part of me. I couldn't watch us grow further and further apart, call me a coward, but I just couldn't."

"I've never trusted anyone but myself, I've never had any reason to place my trust in others. I know that you think Saint Potter and your whole band of 'Save the World' heroes can help me, but you can't, because I don't need help."

"That's what you think," Ginny replied angrily, she shook her head in defeat. "If that's how you feel, then no one can help you."

She stepped forward and grabbed his left hand, her other hand began to undo his cuffs. Realizing what she was doing, he clamped his hand over hers.

"Don't touch me," he said, brushing her hand away.

"Why? What will I see?" she demanded, her eyes bright and intent. He glared right back, until she looked away. "Forget it, I don't want to see it anyway."

Making up his mind, Draco pulled up his sleeve to show her his forearm.

Ginny gasped. His forearm was pale and unmarked, just like it had been so many nights ago. She shook her head slowly, confused, could it be possible he hadn't gone through with it? A glimmer of hope appeared in her heart, but she didn't allow it to go further. She would only be disappointed.

"I used a glamour on it." Ah, there, the disappointment, the statement that would ruin everything.

"Hiding who you are Draco? Are you, god forbid, ashamed?" she asked in a mocking voice. It hurt, to see the one person you thought you could save walk away from you, and there really was nothing left to do. "I think it's about time for us to end, isn't it?" Draco's head shot up at her words, she was staring back at him intently. "We're on two different paths now. All I can hope now, is that you'll be satisfied in the end," she said, before breaking eye contact and leaving his room, shutting the door behind her quietly.

"How can I be satisfied without you?" Draco whispered quietly.

~~~

When Pansy walked into his room the next morning, she found Draco lying on his bed, his eyes directed at the ceiling. He was still wearing his uniform, which lay crumpled on his frame.

"She left," he said in a restrained voice by way of greeting.

"I know," she replied softly. "I had a talk with her. Are you sure about this? If you let her go now, it really will be over."

"It's the only thing I can do for her," he answered.

"Self-sacrifice Draco?" Pansy asked quietly. "Can you really do this? Turn against her? Make up your mind now, because if you continue this way, one day, you'll find yourself confronting her, each on opposite sides of the war. It won't be as easy to ignore it then, especially when there's no choice but for one of you to die."

"Thank you for the confidence booster," Draco drawled dryly. "Are you trying to make me turn to alcohol to drown my sorrows, because I can tell you right now that is exactly where my mind is heading."

Pansy could tell he was trying to derail her train of thought, and decided she didn't particularly want to pursue the subject. Taking a blind stab at dry humor, she attempted to engage his attention. "Fine with me, as long as you keep away from females after you get drunk. I do not want to have to explain to the poor girl why you cried out Weasley's name as you climaxed. Or refrain you from committing suicide when you find out you betrayed Weasley in your smashed state. I'm a friend, not a one-woman clean up crew," Pansy intoned just as dryly.

"You are not funny," Draco accused, finally removing his eyes from the ceiling to focus on Pansy.

"In your lovesick state I wouldn't expect you to appreciate my witty repartee," Pansy dismissed airily with a wave of her hand. "I'm hungry, want me to get you a muffin on my way back?" She began to make her way to the door as Draco let out a grunt of acknowledgment.

"Make it two muffins," Draco called out, as he felt his stomach grumble. He did not miss the smirk on Pansy's face as the door closed; sighing, he turned his attention back to the ceiling.

~~~

Unfortunately for Draco, his wishes for staying in bed moping all day, crashed around him as Pansy brought him news of the first Prefect's meeting for the year. It was to be held that afternoon. After much persuasion on Pansy's part, and just as much groaning from Draco's, they finally went to the Prefect's meeting room.

As soon as they stepped in, Draco wished fervently he hadn't given in to Pansy's urging. Sitting directly across from his designated seat was Ginny, their eyes met as the Prefects in the room turned to see who had arrived. Immediately, Draco averted his gaze and sauntered over to his seat, his arrogant demeanor in place. He managed rather successfully to keep his line of vision anywhere but on the red haired female in front of him as other Prefects began piling into the room and filling their respective seats.

The Prefect's meeting room was rather large, the size of two standard Charms rooms. The walls were covered with portraits of previous Head Boys and Girls and in the center of the room was a long, redwood table. Its highly polished state was thanks to the hard work of many a detention student, kept under the watchful eye of the caretaker, Filch. The Head Boy and Girl took their seats at each end of the long table, with the other prefects on either side. Slytherin and Ravenclaw occupied one side, and Gryffindor and Hufflepuff the other. On the wall behind the Head Boy's chair, hung a portrait of the current Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, who watched the proceedings quietly, occasionally winking when a Prefect caught his eye; it was his duty to report back to the real Headmaster, if anything needed his attention.

As the last of the stragglers took their seats, Ron and Hermione rose from each end of the table, it was their duty, as Head Boy and Girl, to deliver a welcoming speech. Just as Hermione began her speech, a large hologram appeared in the center of the table, just above the Prefects' heads.

For lack of anything better to do, Draco began to study the hologram, wondering vaguely if he could attempt to create something similar. It would take a great deal of knowledge in both Charms and Transfiguration.

The silvery white hologram rotated slowly above the center of the table, it was shaped in the style of the Hogwarts crest, the Gryffindor lion and the Slytherin snake occupying the upper corners, while the Hufflepuff Badger and the Ravenclaw Phoenix took the lower corners. In the center stood a proud 'H', uniting all four houses together under the house of Hogwarts. As Hermione spoke, the upper left hand corner began to glow red, the lion letting out a silent growl. When Hannah Abbott, a Hufflepuff, asked Hermione a question about Quidditch season, the bottom left hand corner of the crest glowed yellow, and the badger moved slightly, sniffing the air.

Draco thought the Slytherin snake showed off rather nicely, as Pansy made a suggestion for the Halloween feast. The upper right corner glowed a dark green and the snake reared up, displaying its forked tongue to whoever was watching.

At times, when the Prefects spoke over each other and the corners of the crest glowed red, yellow, green and blue at the same time, the Ravenclaw phoenix would flap its wings and let out a beautiful phoenix song. The song of the phoenix was soothing and gentle as the notes of a harp, temporarily calming their minds so that the Head Boy or Girl could restore order. Draco had never understood why Ravenclaw got the privilege of being the peacekeepers, although he did grudgingly concede that if it were up to the Slytherin snake, chaos would be a permanent state in meetings.

Draco gave a silent cheer as he heard Hermione begin to announce the Prefect duties assigned to each of them, the Prefect duties were always last on the agenda. That meant a few more minutes of torture before he could depart that room and get away from Ginny's fiery glare.

"Ron and I, being Head Boy and Girl, will be patrolling the hallways after curfew. However, we won't be able to do it Wednesday and Friday nights because we have extra merit tutorials with Professor McGonagall. I'm pairing up Ginny Weasley and Draco Malfoy for patrols Wednesday and Friday nights." Ignoring the aforementioned prefects' fuming protests, she continued. "It's two hours a night, beginning from 9pm to 11pm, quite straightforward, just round up any stray students out of bed and keep a watchful eye for any intruders that may try to sneak in. Any questions?" Hermione asked after her long speech.

Most of the room's occupants had fallen asleep as soon as they had heard what their assigned duties were, but two Prefects in particular looked as if they were going to have words with her very soon, and she did not think they were going to be very pleasant words either.

As the Prefects filed out of the room, each sleepy eyed and yawning, Hermione took the time to brace herself for the oncoming outburst.

"Hermione! Are you crazy! I can't work with...him!" Ginny cried loudly as soon as she heard the door shut behind them.

"Granger, you better have a very good explanation for this," Draco drawled menacingly.

"Look, it wasn't my idea, you two were the only ones available that I could actually trust to get the job done instead of encouraging any funny business to go on after curfew. Now if you want to be childish, please do not include me in it, this is a strictly professional matter, so deal with it. And besides, it's only until Christmas, after Christmas break, we'll be reassigning duties," Hermione said firmly. Before either of them could have a chance of retorting, Hermione quickly gathered up the scrolls of parchment in front of her and swept out of the room in a not-so-graceful exit.

The two prefects she had left behind were fuming. Giving each other an accusatory glare, they stomped out of the room in a huff, neither of them looking forward to their prefect duties together.