Endless Love

Friday Night: A Persuasive Argument

"No."

"Just hear me out."

"No."

"But--"

"Look, Gin, I'm sure you have a very compelling and impassioned argument. However, since I don't give a crap about Longbottom or his pathetic love life, nothing you can say will change my mind."

"Please, Draco."

"Don't bat your eyelashes at me, Weasley." Draco scowled down at her.

Ginny moved forward and pressed her palms against his chest, smoothing her hands up around his neck. "Did I tell you how handsome you look today," she whispered, nipping the side of his throat lightly.

"Flattery will get you nowhere," he said, stiffening his jaw. "I always look this perfect."

Ginny stepped back, widened her stance and crossed her arms under her breasts. "How about this, then. You help Neville and I'll refrain from kicking your arse."

"You wouldn't da--oof." Draco doubled over, his face scrunched in pain. "Fuck, Weasley," he wheezed.

Ginny flexed her fingers and shook her hand. "I'll do it again," she threatened, her knuckles throbbing painfully.

Straightening, Draco caught her sore right hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing her softly on the knuckles before flattening it against his chest. "You're going to really hurt yourself one of these days."

Ginny, unfazed, held up her other hand, closing her fingers into another fist. "Well?"

"Fine," Draco growled. "You owe me, though."

"Of course." Ginny gave him a blinding grin.

"And I'm not going to be nice about this."

She patted his arm. "S'alright, Draco. You don't know how."

"And you won't breathe a word of this to anyone. Not even MacGreggor."

"Never crossed my mind."

He arched an eyebrow. "I mean it. If I find out anyone but you, Longbottom and I know, the deal's off."

"Bit paranoid, aren't you?"

"Cautious, Ginny. Cautious. I have a reputation to uphold."

"But really, it's not a big deal," she said nonchalantly. "You can tell everyone I threatened to withhold sex, if you want. They wouldn't blame you."

"No one is to know, Weasley, or I won't help."

"What if it leaked out?"

Draco shook his head.

"But what if it couldn't be helped? It wouldn't be my fault."

"Bloody hell, you already told Brandy, didn't you?"

"Maybe."

"You did."

"Fine, I did. So what? They overheard me suggesting it to Neville. I had to tell them something."

"They? They?"

Ginny idly played with the ends of her robe sleeves. "Um... well, Hermione might have been there."

"Might have?"

"And perhaps Zabini and... the crew."

"Good Merlin, all those fucking pirate freaks know?"

Ginny gave an elaborate sigh. "Draco, love, it's not as if Neville can keep a secret anyway. They were all bound to know."

"They're all going to think I've gone soft," he exclaimed, shoving a hand through his hair.

"Not at all. No one could ever think that."

"Damn straight."

"You're a menacing Slytherin bastard."

"To the core."

Ginny sidled up next to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "You're my cuddle-bunny."

He slipped one arm around her shoulders and hugged her tightly. "If you ever call me a cuddle-bunny again, you're a dead woman." He kissed the top of her head lightly.

Ginny smiled into his jumper. "Of course, Draco."

******

Saturday Morning: Reconstructing Neville

Neville had never truly hated Malfoy. No, Neville had always just been scared to death of him. Terrified. Quake in his boots, scared shitless. That is, until he'd found his niche, which, along with a decent aptitude for Herbology, consisted mostly of singing and writing pirate ditties.

It didn't sound like much, of course, but to Neville it was everything. It made him part of the group... the crew. It made him Important. And it gave him a confidence and self-assuredness that he'd never had before.

Still, he shook a bit, standing there without his robes, under the sharp eye of Draco Malfoy.

"Do you always wear that under your robes, Longbottom?" Malfoy sneered.

Neville glanced down at himself; took in his shiny black boots, blue trousers and crisp white shirt. "What?"

"Suspenders?"

"They help me think."

Malfoy gave a sharp laugh. "Thinking--"

Ginny slapped a hand over Malfoy's mouth and glared at him. "Don't you dare," she said.

Neville rocked back on his heels, stretching his red suspenders with his thumbs. Thank Merlin Ginny was there, or he wouldn't have stood a chance.

Ginny snatched her hand back with a cry. "You bit me!" she yelped.

Malfoy glowered down at her. "And you said I didn't have to be nice."

"You don't," she said, rubbing her palm, "but keep the insults to a minimum, alright?"

Malfoy sighed and took her hand, giving it an apologetic kiss. "Fine."

Neville watched their exchange in wide-eyed silence, baffled by the gruff affection between them. They seemed constantly at odds, but their gestures belied any outward animosity.

The Slytherin turned back to him with a calculating gleam in his eye. "You'll need a whole new wardrobe. And something has to be done with that hair."

Neville reached up and self-consciously smoothed down his brown cowlick.

"Who's the unlucky lady you're trying to impress?" Malfoy asked, slowly circling Neville.

"Lavender," Neville said, pain squeezing his heart.

"Brown?" Malfoy smirked. "Isn't she a bit out of your league?"

Neville felt a prickling behind his eyes and was terribly afraid he was going to start bawling. Malfoy was right. Lavender was too good for him.

Ginny shook her head. "Neville got her once before, without your help. This should be easy." She gave Neville a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Nev."

"Hold on, you've already had Brown?" Malfoy asked him, incredulous.

Neville nodded glumly.

"And she dumped you and now you want to humiliate yourself by begging her to take you back?" Malfoy looked pleased by the prospect.

"No, no, Draco," Ginny interjected. "Neville broke up with her."

Malfoy blinked. "You managed to land Brown, who I grudgingly admit is relatively attractive - for a Gryffindor - and you let her go?"

"I caught her snogging another boy," Neville grumbled.

"Who?" Malfoy asked as he jerked back on one of his suspenders, letting it go with a snap.

Neville shuffled his feet and stared down at the floor. "Finch-Fletchley."

"Finch-Fletchley? And you dumped her for that?"

Neville felt his face burn bright red. "Yes."

Malfoy arched a mocking brow. "You do realize, Longbottom, that Finch-Fletchley corners anything that moves for a quick snog."

"I know."

"And yet you dumped her anyway," Malfoy snickered.

"I was angry," Neville said defensively. Blindingly angry. And hurt.

"Didn't put up much of a fight for her."

"I know." Neville shifted back and forth on his feet in agitation. He knew he'd given up too quickly. In a way, he'd been waiting for something like it to happen. Lavender had seemed to want him, but he never could bring himself to fully believe it; had thought it was just a matter of time until she got tired of him and turned to someone else.

It was only later, after he'd calmed down, that he recalled the stricken look on her face, and he started to think that maybe, just maybe, Lavender had really and truly liked him; liked being with him. But it had been too late to take it back. Now, all he could do was try to win her over again.

"Not much to work with, here." Malfoy shook his head. "First off, though, we're getting rid of that bowl cut. Really, Longbottom, what were you thinking?"

"Gran--"

"And pleated trousers?" Malfoy cut in. "You're going to need a black flat-front pair and a gray button-down." He glanced down at his feet. "The boots can stay, but," he curled his lip in disgust, "the suspenders are getting fed to the giant squid."

Ginny patted Malfoy's arm and smiled widely up at him. "He'll look just like you, Draco."

Malfoy cursed. "Bloody hell. All right, Longbottom, we'll go casual, light trousers and a cream jumper. There is no fucking way I'm going to let you walk around like a retarded version of myself. Having it spread around that I'm helping you, out of the goodness of my heart, is bad enough."

"I'm the only goodness in your heart," Ginny pointed out blithely.

"Yes, and you've bastardized it to such a degree that here I am, helping Longbottom get dressed," Malfoy snapped.

Neville cleared his throat, "Thank you for that, Malf--"

"Don't thank me, Longbottom. Thank the little Weasley, here. She's the one who threatened to withhold sex--"

Ginny clapped her hand over Malfoy's mouth again and Neville felt himself glow red again.

Malfoy reached up and pried Ginny's hand off his face. "What?" he growled. "You told me I could say that!"

"Not to Neville," she hissed, angling her head to the embarrassed boy.

"Shit, Gin, you aren't going to let me tell anyone that, are you?"

Ginny shook her head. "I'd really rather you didn't..." she trailed off, gazing up at him imploringly.

Malfoy groaned. "Everyone's going to think I'm as addled as Potter."

"There is nothing wrong with Harry," Neville said stiffly.

"Nothing that a swift kick to the head wouldn't fix," Malfoy smirked.

"Can we please get back to the problem at hand?" Ginny ground out.

"The problem," Malfoy groused, "is that my reputation is going to be in tatters when this is over. So much so that wearing red suspenders would most likely be an improvement."

"Don't be silly, Draco," Ginny said. "You know you look horrible in red."

******

Saturday Night: An End-of-the-day Chat

Exhausted, Ginny changed into her nightdress and slipped under her covers. It had been a long day. She rather felt as if she'd been babysitting two five-year-olds. Automatically, she took out the small compact she'd charmed to transmit voices and yawned a hello to her best friend.

"How was Hogsmeade?" Brandy's voice crackled out of the open compact and through the air inside Ginny's tightly closed bed-hangings.

"Quite terrifying, actually. Neville screamed when they cut his hair."

"Screamed? Why?"

"Well, I think it was mostly due to Draco transfiguring the clippings into flobberworms, but I could be mistaken."

Brandy laughed. "Clever lad."

"I thought you liked Neville."

"I'm fond of him, true, but still... I bet he screams like a girl."

"It was a manly scream," Ginny said indignantly. "Except," she added with a chuckle, "it turned a bit high-pitched when one managed to slip under his collar. I've never seen Draco laugh so much."

"So... has he said it yet?" Brandy asked.

"No," Ginny said glumly, placing the compact on her nightstand. "But I did trick him into saying I was in his heart."

"That's something, then."

Ginny sank back against her headboard, drawing a pillow onto her lap and hugging it to her chest. "Not really. He seems to think I've bastardized it."

"Bastardized?"

"His word, not mine." Ginny sighed. "I'm beginning to think he'll never say it."

"Course he will, love," Brandy assured her. "You'll just have to take a more direct route."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, you'll have to come right out and ask him."

Ginny snorted. "Yeah, that would go over great. Corner the dragon and offer my heart on a platter for him to munch on. Perfect."

"Don't be so melodramatic, Gin. If he was going to hurt you he'd have done it by now."

"Really? Tell me Bran, in your world, are the grounds over-run with pink fuzzy bunnies instead of Slytherins?"

Brandy ignored her. "If you want to know, you're going to have to ask him."

"I know," Ginny said, resignedly. "Why couldn't I have fallen in love with Harry? Why Draco?"

There was a slight pause on the other end. "Um... Gin, Harry thinks he's a pirate."

"Well, I know that," Ginny said. "Although strictly speaking he doesn't actually think he's a pirate... he just likes..."

"Behaving like one," Brandy finished.

"It's really sort of endearing," Ginny chuckled. "Sweet, even."

"Ron does look scruffily handsome in that beard he's grown. Roguish."

"And as we delve into the horrifying world of you lusting after my brother, I must bid you goodnight."

Brandy sighed heavily. "Fine. I listen to you lust after Snape, but of course, me wanting Ron is far more horrid," she said sarcastically.

"I do not lust after Snape!"

"You know you talk in your sleep, Gin. 'Oh, Professor Snape! Kiss me, Severus!'" Brandy erupted into giggles.

"I do not talk in my sleep."

"Oh, give over, love. You dream of him all the time."

Ginny sighed. "I washed his hair in the last one."

Brandy made a retching sound that rapidly evolved into coughing. "That. Is. Nasty."

"Well," Ginny sniffed. "At least it was clean."

******

Sunday Morning: A Self-made Man

Neville tugged at the crew neck collar of the cream jumper. It was made of possibly the softest material he'd ever felt - softer even, than Gran's angora, Petey - and he was suffocating in it.

At first, he'd suspected that Malfoy had charmed it to strangle him, but the cashmere wasn't purposely constricting around his throat. He just couldn't... relax. He didn't feel like himself, didn't feel comfortable. Even though he figured he should, considering everything he had on was the smoothest fabric that had ever touched his skin.

He fidgeted in front of the mirror, yanking at the cuffs of his sleeves, the hem at his waist. He bent his legs, stretching the fibered weave across his knees. Everything fit him perfectly, cut just for his measurements. But he was sweating like a stuck pig and he couldn't stand still.

His hair was short and styled with an enormous amount of gel. He pressed his palm down on top of the spikes, watching as they sprang back up in the perfect quaff the salon had given him. He hated it. He hated everything.

Frustrated, he slammed his fist down on his dresser. A faint tinkling of music drifted up from the top drawer and he opened it automatically to look inside. There, nestled between his socks and the extra pair of suspenders - Malfoy had made good with his threat and threw his others into the lake - was the glittering silver bell Lavender had given him for Christmas.

He was an idiot.

There was no other explanation. How could he ever think she hadn't loved him? He touched the small bell with the tips of his fingers, canting it to the side. The proof was in their song; the delicate strains haunting the near empty dorm room. At that moment, it struck him how simple it would be to gain her forgiveness, to show how much he cared; and it didn't include changing who he was on the outside - or the inside.

Making a quick decision, he pulled the jumper off over his head, grabbed a plain white tee, and went down to the common room to find the crew.

Malfoy and Ginny were going to kill him, but he didn't much care.

******

Sunday Evening: The Direct Route

"I don't look horrible in anything."

"Are you still going on about that?" Ginny huffed. "I'd think you'd be pleased... Gryffindor colors and all."

"But really, I think the red off-sets my shiny platinum hair."

Ginny sighed and reached over to cup Draco's face in her hands. "The red makes you look pale as a ghost and pinks your eyes, Draco. Get over it." She gave him a quick, hard kiss on the lips, and turned to stride into the Great Hall.

"Hang on," Draco said, grabbing her hand and pulling her back into the darkened corridor.

"What now?"

"You can't go around giving teasing snogs and not follow up, Weasley," he growled.

"That wasn't a tease. That was a get-off-my-back-already-and-let's-go-eat kiss," Ginny explained as Draco maneuvered her into the shadows under the main staircase.

"We could make it more, couldn't we?"

Ginny pouted. "But I'm hungry."

"So am I," he said, his voice low as he brushed strands of her red hair away from her neck and bent to press his lips against her pulse.

Ginny sighed and let her head loll back on the hard stone wall, savoring the warmth of his lips and the soft stroke of his hands as they slipped inside her robe and under the hem of her jumper, smoothing over her bare skin. "Do you love me, Draco?"

"What?"

Draco let go of her so quickly she cracked her skull against the stone. Blackness swam briefly in front of her eyes and she rubbed her hand gingerly over the back of her head. "Do I take that as a no?" she grumbled.

"I'm not discussing this with you, Weasley," he scowled down at her.

"Why not?"

"Let it go."

Interesting. Ginny cocked her head to the side. "I love you, you know," she said.

He clenched his jaw. "We're not talking about this, Ginny," he said through his teeth.

"It's a simple enough question to answer, Draco. Yes or no?" she pushed.

Draco pressed his lips in a firm line, refusing to say anything further. His gray eyes narrowed, defiantly blank, and he made a move to turn from her.

Ginny caught a fistful of his robes to keep him from stalking away. "So you won't say yes, but you're not saying no, is that it?"

Giving out an exasperated breath, he leaned his forehead on the wall above her. "Why can't you just leave go? We're fine how we are."

She poked her finger into his chest. "I want to know. I've a right to know how you feel."

Draco snorted in disgust. "Malfoys don't discuss feelings, least of all... l-l..."

"Love?" Ginny prompted.

"Yes. That."

"But..." Ginny started, a speculative sparkle in her eye, "being a Malfoy, if you didn't love me, you'd come right out and stomp on my weak little pathetic heart, wouldn't you?"

Draco stared at her, scowl firmly in place. "Twisted logic," he said dryly.

Ginny let go of his robes and slid her hands up around the back of his neck, tugging him gently down to her level. "Just say it," she whispered, their noses touching, his eyes unreadable and direct. "Once. For me."

"No," he said, slowly shaking his head, but his frown softened, and the lines around his eyes faded.

She quickly crossed two of her fingers behind his neck. "I swear I'll never make you say it again. I just want to hear it once. Please?"

The corners of his lips tipped up, and he skimmed his mouth over her cheek, pausing at her ear to whisper, "I felt your fingers cross, Gin."

Her heart plummeted into her stomach. "No go, then?"

Draco didn't answer. Instead he took her hand and led her back towards the door to the Great Hall. A great wave of laughter spilled out into the corridor as he pulled it open.

"What the hell?" Draco said as he stepped inside. "Is that Longbottom?"

******

Sunday Evening: Endless Love

What is he doing? What is he doing? Lavender was panicking. Neville, on the teacher's dais, sans robes and red suspenders flashing, was not a good thing. Seamus and Dean stood close behind him, grinning and waving to the students who had turned to watch Neville make a fool of himself. What was he doing?

For one horrifying moment, Lavender thought he was going to expose her to the masses... label her a scarlet woman. But that was ridiculous. This was Neville. He would never do anything of the sort. Would he?

"What's he doing?" Parvati hissed in her ear.

"You don't think he's going to shout at me publicly, do you?" Lavender whispered back, voicing her fears.

Parvati gaped at her as if she'd turned green and sprouted a Slytherin Prefect badge. "Neville?"

"Yes, yes, you're right. Neville wouldn't... Oh Merlin, he's looking this way!"

"Stay calm."

"I'm calm."

"Then let go of my hand," Parvati said, her voice pained.

Lavender glanced down and saw her white-knuckled hand tightly gripping Parvati's. "Sorry," she murmured, releasing her.

Neville cleared his throat, and from the echo reverberating around the room, Lavender gathered he'd performed the Sonorus spell. She blindly groped for Parvati's hand again, but the girl hastily moved it out of reach.

And then Seamus handed Neville an object she knew so well; a small silver bell that she had charmed weeks ago and given to Neville for Christmas. It contained one song - one duet - and they had performed it together in private so many times she could sing it in her sleep.

All her fear melted, all her heartache faded to the back of her mind, as he stood there on the dais, his round, doleful eyes staring down at her. Then he tipped the bell, and strains of music flowed out, enveloping the Great Hall.

Harry appeared at her elbow, wordlessly offering his arm and a reassuring smile.

"Better hurry," Ron said cheerily, flanking her other side. He flicked his wand at the base of her neck, saying "Sonorus."

When they approached the stairs, the boys fell back and she ascended them alone. Neville turned to her, held out his hand, and started to sing; "My love, it's only you in my life. The only thing that's bright."

Lavender stepped onto the dais in a daze, moving forward to slip her palm over his. "My first love, you're every breath that I take. You're every step I make."

"And I..."

"I..."

"I want to share..."

Neville drew her close, his eyes shining with raw emotion as their voices blended together in perfect harmony, "...all my love with you..."

******

It was beautiful. They were beautiful; standing there, their heads bent together as they sang out their hearts to each other. Ginny felt a tear shimmer to the surface as she watched, her hands worrying the front of her robes.

"Two hearts, two hearts that beat as one. Our lives have just begun..."

"This is rubbish," Draco groused in her ear.

"Shhhh," Ginny sent him an annoyed glance.

"But look what he's wearing? All that hard work for nothing! He's got the bloody suspenders back on, even."

Ginny clenched her teeth. "It's romantic, Draco. I know the concept is beyond you, but try to understand..."

"I'll hold you close in my arms. I can't resist your charms..."

"And love..."

Draco looked stunned. "What do you mean? I'm romantic. All the time."

"Really?" Ginny's eyebrows rose. "And was this before or after you refused to say you loved me?"

"That has nothing to do with romance."

"Just shut up and enjoy the song, Draco," she said in a harsh whisper.

"You're mad," Draco said, perplexed.

She smiled flatly at him. "And you're a bloody genius." She turned back to the front of the hall just as Neville cupped Lavender's face with his hands. Lavender wound her arms around his waist and they sang the last verse with their lips nearly touching.

"And yes, you'll be the only one. 'Cause no one can deny, this love I have inside, and I'll give it all to you..."

"My love..."

"My love, my love..."

"My endless love."

The hall was deafeningly quiet. Neville and Lavender were buried in a passionate kiss. Ginny glanced around and noticed shiny cheeks and red-rimmed eyes, wide sappy grins and dreamy expressions of longing. She felt Draco's gaze on her and she shifted to look at him, confusion writ across his face.

"Gin, I--"

A roar of cheers rose up from the students as they stood and applauded the couple on the dais. Whatever Draco had said next was drowned out by the noise, and Ginny just shook her head.

His shoulders slumped into a very resigned, un-Malfoy like posture. He took a deep breath and shouted, "Fine!"

Ginny cocked her head to the side and mouthed 'What?'

Taking another breath, he said just as loud, "I love you..." as Dumbledore stepped forward to address the hall, which instantly quieted, "...Gin."

Student and faculty alike turned to look at them, and Ginny felt a blush bloom up from her chest and cover her face. At first, Ginny was sure the hall had only heard the last bit - Draco shouting her name.

But then Draco drew himself up to his full height, steeling his gaze and catching the student's stares straight on. "It's true," he said, almost proudly, "I love Ginny Weasley."

Well, Ginny thought, there was no way anyone could've missed that. Out of the corner of her eye she spied Brandy giving her a thumbs up. Everyone else just seemed stunned.

"I love her," Draco went on, pointing to Ginny.

Ginny placed a hand over her eyes. Oh, good Merlin.

He took her hand away from her face and clasped it between his own. "I love you, Gin."

"Yes," Ginny said weakly. "Yes, I believe I heard you the first time." It was like a dam had broken. He couldn't stop saying the word love.

Dumbledore finally cleared his throat, thankfully drawing everyone's attention back to the front of the hall. "Before we get back to our meals, is there anyone else who has a declaration of love?" he queried, amusement lacing his voice. "No?"

There was a tittering of laughter throughout the room and Ginny, bright red, hung her head as she moved towards the Gryffindor table.

"That was romantic, wasn't it?" Draco called after her.

She glanced over her shoulder and froze. Draco had a self-satisfied smirk curling the corners of his lips, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "You did that on purpose," she ground out, incredulous.

He shrugged. "I never do anything half-arsed, Weasley."

She grinned at him, knowing that her heart shone through her smile. Forever, she thought, shaking her head ruefully as she continued to her seat. I'm going to love that bloody bastard forever.

And at the moment, forever just didn't seem long enough.