A Time for Us

A Time for Us

A time for us,

Some day there'll be,

When chains are torn,

By courage born,

Of a love that's free.

A time when dreams,

So long denied,

Can flourish,

As we unveil the love we now must hide.

The man that stood in the shadows of the curtains was motionless. He watched as the girl sat down at her table and pulled the pins from her long red-gold hair, the curls rippling in smooth unbroken waves down her back.

His fingers itched to run through the silkiness, but he held himself in check, feeling his blood thickening as she slipped out of her shabby robes into a shabbier nightgown, so worn that he could see the outline of her small frame.

Did she eat enough? he wondered. She was so thin. He wanted to reach out, to touch her, but instead he simply stood and waited as she knelt by her window and stared out at the stars.

It was so easy, there in the girlish, innocent room, to forget that outside, under the same black night sky, death and terror and bloodshed awaited him. He would let himself forget, if just for tonight. He was so very tired of the fighting, the pointless deaths. Looking at the childlike purity of the girl's profile, he wondered, too, how he could possibly make the choice that was inevitable.

But was blood really thicker than water? Or did the ties that bind also break? He felt himself gravitating toward her as a single tear trickled down her cheek. He knelt beside her and pulled her into his arms.

How could he give up this? he asked himself, feeling how soft and small and warm she felt.

"You shouldn't have come," she whispered, as she pressed her face against his shoulder."

"I had to come," he said, simply. "Time's running out, Ginny. We can't go on like this forever."

"I know," she whispered, sounding so forlorn that something painful clenched at what might once have been called his heart. Only he didn't know if he had a heart anymore. He had seen things, done things, that no man should have to see or do.

They simply sat thus for a long while. Inside the circle of his arms Ginny felt safe. Happy. Only, as he said, it could not last forever.

"And what then?" she asked, afraid she already knew the answer. She clutched tighter at him, and his hold grew almost painful. Two people, so close, and yet so far away.

"I might die any day now, Ginny," he whispered into her hair. "I can't do that to you."

She wanted to scream at him to stop, to not go on. She knew what he was going to say. The poets were all liars, she thought. Hearts didn't break, or hers would be bleeding.

"I won't be coming back."

Sticks and stones can break my bones but words can never hurt me.

Liars, she thought again.

Surely it was not possible to feel so much pain and still live. Ginny pulled away from him, hating him and loving him, her throat so tight she could not breathe.

"So that is your choice, Draco?"

He nodded, turning away, unable to meet her anguished, accusing glance. She gave a low, choking cry, and unable to bear it any longer, he reached out to her again. She went willingly, and her tears were warm on his neck.

He kissed her, and she clung to him.

"Take me with you," she said suddenly, fiercely.

"Take you . . . with me?" He looked searchingly at her. She nodded, her fingers curling on the soft stuff of his shirt.

"Let's run away together, Draco. We'll go somewhere far away where no one has ever heard of us, and let's start again. Let's forget everything forever."

The tears were spilling down her cheeks freely, and he reached out and touched her face. Her hand clasped his and she looked up at him pleadingly.

"Ginny . . ." he whispered, burying his face in her hair. How could he tell her that it would never be over, not for him? How could he tell her that everything that had ever existed between them was all a lie? How could he tell her that there was nothing for them but pain, that they were doomed even as they spoke?

"Then let's forget for tonight," she said, fiercely. "Just tonight. Let's forget everything tonight."

He took her face in his hands and looked at her.

"Please," she begged. "Please."

He was only a man. Just tonight. Tonight they could forget.

Tonight they could live for themselves. They could pretend there was a future for them.

But both knew that there was no future. Not even a past.

Just tonight.

***

A time for us at last to see,

A life worthwhile for you and me,

The bed was too small for both of them, so she lay on top of him. He had fallen asleep, and she pressed her lips against his bare shoulder. Her body was sated, but her heart was full of doubts.

I love you, she wanted to whisper, but that was not enough for him. Her love would not keep him at her side. She bit at her lip, but the tears came anyway, falling hot on his chest.

She'd cried too much since she met him.

His eyes sprang open, and he reached up to away her tears. "Don't cry," he whispered.

She drew away from him, and looked out the window to the slowly whitening horizon.

"You have to go," she said, matter-of-factly. "It'll be dawn soon."

He said nothing as he swung his large frame off the bed and dressed. She wore a deep green robe, her hair loose on her shoulders.

Already she was aloof. In a toneless, distant voice she told him to be careful and take care of himself.

He pulled her toward him, but this time she struggled against him. Her lips remained unresponsive beneath his. Her hands were pressed flat against his chest.

"How can you bear an unbearable thing?" she screamed at him.

His hands were gentle. "You can't. But you do."

Neither heard the door swing open. Neither knew anything was amiss until a deadly voice said, "Let. My. Sister. Go."

Both froze, then turned slowly toward the doorway. A menacingly calm Ron stood in the jamb, his wand drawn. Ginny gave a little gasp. "Ron?"

"I'm going to kill you," he said quietly, to Draco. He ignored Ginny entirely. "I'm going to kill you for what you did to my sister."

"No! Ron! You don't understand!"

She wrenched herself free from Draco's grasp, but it was too late. Ron had raised his wand.

"Adavra - "

"Ron! No!"

The scream tore through the air, shattering the crystalline stillness. But the green light still shot out from the tip of Ron's wand.

Death did not wait.

Draco moved to duck. He was not quick enough. He steeled himself, but there was no need, because a soft, warm body fell lifelessly into his arms.

They stood there, Draco and Ron, staring at the dead girl. She was smiling.

Ginny Weasley, who had smiled so bravely, so gallantly, all her life, had died smiling.

Ron's cry echoed his sister's but a moment before, but Draco bent and swung her up into his arms and backed away.

"She's mine," he said. When Ron would have spoken, he merely cradled her closer and repeated, "She's mine. She was yours in life. Let me at least have her grave to tend."

Without waiting for the other man to speak, he vanished into the shadows of the cold, empty night.

And with our love,

Through tears and thorns,

We will endure,

As we pass surely

Through every storm.

A time for us,

Someday there'll be

A new world,

A world of love and hope for you and me