Delicate

We might kiss when we are alone.
When nobody's watching,
We might take it home.
We might make out when nobody's there.
It's not that we're scared -
It's just that it's delicate.

Ginny Weasley lay in the bed with her eyes open, staring at the ceiling - counting the blemishes in the plaster in an effort to distract herself from the thoughts going around and around in her head. She was scared to close her eyes, scared to sleep and scared to leave. She was never scared...but here, now - she was.

She felt an arm drape across her torso and tried to pretend that she didn't feel anything - that she didn't feel excited, that she didn't care. That it was meaningless. But it had stopped being meaningless for her a long time ago. And that was terrifying. How had she ended up like this?

She closed her eyes and for a second allowed herself to pretend that this was right. That the feelings she had weren't wrong. She pretended that the man lying beside her was acceptable - that she didn't need to feel ashamed. But she couldn't pretend - as soon as she opened her eyes she would know. She would be back in the same room, with the same man, with the same situation and the same conflicted feelings of shame and something she should never have felt for him. She opened her eyes and turned her head to see a pair of grey eyes watching her inner torment. Did he enjoy what he was doing to her? How he was tearing her apart inside?

She tried to turn away, to avoid his gaze - his penetrating eyes that challenged her to do and think things she never thought was possible, but it was impossible. She couldn't tear herself away from him. Never.

"I thought you would be asleep," she said, trying to keep her voice calm. Trying to keep him from seeing the affect he had on her.

He shrugged his shoulders and kept his eyes on her. "You do this every night - stay awake, think and then briefly allow yourself to relax before tormenting yourself some more. When exactly do you sleep?" He never blinked as he lowered his voice to a whisper. "Or is your dirty little secret keeping you awake, Weasley?"

She shook her head as she pushed his arm away from her and clutched the silken sheet to her chest as she sat up. "Don't pretend you care about my feelings, Malfoy. I know this isn't something you want to shout from the rooftops yourself."

She turned her back to him and reached down to the floor and picked up her discarded robes but before she had a chance to put them on she felt the bed move as he knelt up and leaned against the back of her. She felt the bare skin of his chest press against her back and immediately she felt goose bumps as her breathing became shallow. She tried to ignore his proximity as he leant down and whispered low in her ear. "You running off to him? Play the good little girl in the vain hope that he'll grace you with a few precious minutes of his time? Do you think he cares about your feelings anymore than I do? Yet still you traipse off to him like his servant. He will never be able to give you this..."

She paused as she thought, for a second, that his words were laced with something she hadn't heard from him before.

For a brief second she allowed herself to ponder the possibility that he sounded like he cared. Like he was jealous. "I'm not running off to anyone. I don't need anyone."

She pulled her robes on and stood up and walked over to the mirror and looked in it. She saw him, still kneeling on the bed, his blond hair tousled and framing his face as he watched her through the mirror. How could he do that? How did he know how to see through her? "Evidently you do, or you wouldn't be so eager for their approval now, would you?"

She closed her eyes and tied her long, wavy hair up on her head. "Stop it. We had an agreement - you wouldn't mention them, ever."

He shook his head as he continued to look at her. "I got bored of that agreement so I think I will mention them. They are the reason you torture yourself, are they not?"

"No. You're the reason I torture myself," she said, as she turned around and looked at him. "What do you even care, Malfoy? My life is none of your concern."

"I don't care, but I am curious..." He shook his head again and lay back down on the pillows with his hands behind his head as he looked at her. Why was he always looking at her? "If I torture you so much, Ginny Weasley - why do you keep coming back?"

She wanted to give a reply that would make him be quiet. She wanted to tell him that she didn't have to be with him, that she wouldn't be back again. She wanted to say it and believe it, but she couldn't formulate the words in her head. Instead she backed off from him and opened the door, her heart pounding as she avoided looking at him. "I...it means nothing. You mean nothing."

With that she went out the door and closed it behind her. She clenched her eyes shut as she heard his footsteps on the other side of the door, followed by a soft knock on the door. "It may mean nothing, but you still always come back to me. I'll see you later, Weasley."

She brought her hands to her face and shook her head as she ran away from the door. It meant nothing! He meant nothing! Why was he doing this to her? Because he hated her? Because he hated them? Because he cared for her? She bit her lip as she shook off those thoughts before they could do too much damage. She had a life to go back to - a real life. An acceptable life.

So why do you fill my sorrow,
With the words you've borrowed,
From the only place you've known?
And why do you sing Hallelujah,
If it means nothing to you?
Why do you sing with me at all?

Draco Malfoy was a complex man. He always had been and probably always would be. He liked contradictions - they kept him interested. For example, he always found it amusing when he saw poor men suffer from gambling problems - they always believed that they were one win away from all their problems being solved, when in reality all their problems were caused by waiting on that 'win' years earlier. It was like that in life - you would spend your life waiting for something to happen knowing it would change your life, yet while you were waiting, something else would happen without you even noticing it. In a flash your life would be changed and you wouldn't even have a say in it. That's what had happened to him.

He walked under the violet dawn sky as he tried to clear his head. He had been walking for what felt like hours, trying to clear his head. It had become an almost nightly ritual - she would leave, spouting the words she'd think they would want to hear her say about how she hated him and the situation, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Alone with lingering memories. It was never supposed to be like this. He was never, ever supposed to be losing sleep over someone like her. What had happened to him?

He stopped walking and leant against a wall as he looked up as the last stars disappeared into the light. He had grown up with little guidance from his father before the Dementors finished with him. One - pure bloods had a God given right to be revered by the lower organisms. Two - class was everything. And three - never, ever lose yourself because of a woman. Yet, here he was - wandering, dwelling, thinking about a woman who was not only a lower class, but a Weasley. He had always hated the Weasleys and he wanted to hate her. He wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything. More than he wanted her.

Or so he desperately wanted to believe.

His life had not worked out the way he had planned. It had all seemed so certain and concrete when he had been at school. He would go, work for the Dark Lord, his father would groom him to be the perfect Death Eater, he would be rich, he would marry Pansy Parkinson and spawn little Death Eaters and the world would be purged of Muggle-lovers. It had seemed so natural, so achievable, so...so destined. It hadn't worked out that way. Somehow, in the three years since school had ended everything had changed. Everything had gone wrong, or right, or...he wasn't sure if it had worked out for the best of for the worst. Nothing was simple and he often had the distinct impression that he wasn't really in charge of his own destiny anymore. Why else would he be working for Dumbledore and with people he despised? Why, if he had a say in anything, did he tolerate being away from the life he had so desperately yearned for?

Why, if the choice was his, was his head always filled with her?

This had not been the plan. He wasn't supposed to be miserable. She wasn't supposed to be able to hurt him and she was supposed to mean it when she said she hated him - she wasn't supposed to have feelings for him anymore than he was supposed to have feelings for her.

He shook his head and looked at his watch and felt himself smile as he looked at the house in front of him. The house that held 'them' - the little, perfect heroes who liked to play house and act overly moral and judgmental on anyone who wasn't part of their little group. They thought their world was so perfect, so infallible, so much better than everyone else's yet they didn't even see what was happening right under their noses. It was pathetic, but he didn't expect anything else from them...they were, after all, completely self absorbed.

He walked over to the house and through the door, muttering passwords and charms through the various barriers that he came across. As he opened the final door he saw them all sitting there, in their ignorant bliss, talking, and laughing and looking at him with utter disdain. Not that he cared what they thought of him. If only they knew...

We might live like never before.
When there's nothing to give,
Well how can we ask for more?
We might make love in some sacred place -
The look on your face is delicate.

Ginny sat on the sofa and listened vainly to the conversation going on around about her as Ron and Hermione bickered over something trivial that would no doubt be cause for a mini drama that would inevitable end with everyone else getting involved. Harry was sitting watching the two of them, like he always did and apart from the occasional nod of the head he never said a word. He never said a word anymore. Not really. On occasion he would talk about Quidditch, or have nothing conversations about unimportant things but for the most part he was quiet. It was unnerving.

She sat and looked down at her hands. The hands that had felt Draco's skin hours earlier. The nails that had raked his back. The fingers that had run through his hair as she kissed him - how easy it was to remember every detail as though it had happened only moments earlier. How difficult it was to remember that she shouldn't even be thinking about him.

"Oh how nice to see you all busy at work. If this is what you heroes get up to it's no wonder the Dark Lord is still flying about."

Her head snapped up at the sound of the cold voice coming from the door. She looked at her watch - 8.05am. The same time as usual. No one bothered to greet Draco as he walked in, in fact the room got deadly silent as everyone found a seat. He walked past her and smirked. "Good morning, Weasley - sleep well?"

She felt her cheeks flush with colour as she looked down, away from his eyes that could see her very soul. She couldn't let them see...

"Don't you think you might be better served, Malfoy, wasting less time talking to Ginny and more time arriving here on time? You're supposed to be helping but you're no use if you can't even read a clock."

Ginny looked up and she saw a faint smile play on Draco's lips before being replaced by a tight frown. "Perhaps I don't judge the time spent talking to the littlest Weasel a complete waste, unlike talking to you? Besides, the day I take orders from you, Potter, is the day that I will put a wand to my own head."

"Trust me, there are a queue of people in here who would put a wand to your head for you. Just - sit down, shut up and leave her alone."

Draco looked at her and the smile returned as she silently begged him to not say anything. To her relief he turned back to Harry and shook his head. "Whatever you say, Potter. Wouldn't want you to feel insecure about your little lapdog, after all. You're far too important to worry about that. Now Weasley, you be a good little girl and don't talk to me now - wouldn't want to upset the mighty Potter."

He sat down as Harry sat down beside her and put a protective arm around her shoulder. She struggled internally not to shrug the arm away as she felt Draco's gaze on her. She could feel the icy grey eyes burrowing into her as Harry's hand made a circular movement on her shoulder. It was meant to be reassuring - in fact it served to unsettle her. Why was she feeling the impact of Malfoy's eyes instead of the tenderness of Harry's touch? Harry loved her in his own way - why then didn't he make her feel like that?

She lifted her gaze and met Draco's eyes, which were narrowed as he seemed to be struggling with keeping a look of disgust off his face. He never blinked as he looked at her, almost daring her to tell him to stop. What did he want from her? He shook his head and stood up as Harry dropped his arm and began talking to Remus Lupin about some 'quest' or something. She sighed - did she really expect more? No. And she no longer wanted more - not from Harry.

"Guess you got your few minutes of 'quality time' there. You must be so proud," Draco whispered to her, not even trying to keep the distaste out of his voice as he walked past. "Pathetic."

Before she had an opportunity to work out what he had said he'd walked past her.

"Where are you going, Malfoy?" Ron asked as Draco walked over to the door. "We haven't discussed anything yet. Dumbledore wanted everyone here. Even you, although I don't know why..."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Well, there's so many good little Gryffindors here, I'm sure he won't notice. And, as Granger takes such pain inducing meticulous parchments every meeting I'm sure I'll get the gist of it somehow."

Harry stood and shook his head. "That's not how it works, and you know it. What, you got a pressing appointment to visit your father in Azkaban?"

Draco's face clouded over momentarily before he seemed to shake it off and covered it with a smirk. He shook his head in disdain as he looked at Harry coolly. "No. I thought I would pay a little visit to the department of Mysteries and give my regards to my mother's cousin. Can I pass on a message?"

Harry looked at him for a second before pouncing forward, fists flying as Ron struggled to contain him. She jumped to her feet and walked over to Harry and shook her head as she tried to stop the fight. "Harry - stop it. This doesn't help - you did start this."

Harry turned and looked at her, betrayal visible in his lifeless eyes. "Why are you standing up for him? You always stand up for him! Every day! What the hell has he ever done for you?"

She stood back, aghast at Harry's words and his tone. She hadn't even noticed that she'd done it. "I..."

"You what? Don't deny it - everyone in here has seen it! I'm sick and tired of it! Why is he so important that you choose him over me?"

She shook her head as she tried to clear her head. What could she say? "I...I..."

"Poor, poor, Potter. You really don't know? Or, perhaps you already suspect the answer? Deep down you must know, even you aren't that idiotic or self-obsessed," Draco said, his words laced with hatred. "Why do you think she would defend me over you?"

Harry didn't turn away from Ginny as Draco spoke. "Shut up, Malfoy. I'm talking to Ginny."

"She's not giving you many answers though, is she? Maybe I make her feel alive, Potter. Maybe I let her remember what it's like to feel, and touch and desire. Maybe that's why she's defending me - doesn't that make sense? Maybe I make her feel something you could never make her feel."

She couldn't believe what she'd heard as her mouth dropped open in shock as Harry let fly with a punch at Draco, smashing him right across the cheek. Draco stumbled back against the wall as she stepped in front of Harry, trying to get him to calm down. Trying to stop him from hurting Draco.

"Liar," Harry spat at Draco. "You're a no good liar!"

Draco gave a cold laugh as he straightened up and opened the door. "If that makes you sleep easier at night, believe I'm a liar. But when you're lying in your bed alone, thinking about yourself, she's lying in bed with me, not even remembering your name."

Harry's eyes filled up with unshed tears. He shook his head as he looked at her. "It's not true. Tell him..."

She felt her insides lurch as her knees began to weaken. She wanted nothing more than to stop Harry from hurting, nothing more than to shut Draco up, nothing more than to make everything okay, but she couldn't. She didn't know how. She didn't want to lie, she didn't want to hurt him with more lies but she didn't want to admit the truth. The truth would stop her hurting but it would kill him.

"Is it true?" Harry asked again, his voice raised this time.

She looked at Ron, whose face was scarlet as he shook his head and clenched his fists as he looked at Malfoy. He would hate her. He would never forgive her. She turned and looked at the other faces of her family and friends, who all looked as though they couldn't believe what was happening. She turned back to Draco and met his eyes that were filled with anger. What could have possessed him to say that?

"Don't look at him! It's me who's asking the question! Look at me! Is it true?!"

She took a deep breath and straightened her back as she turned to Harry and slowly nodded her head.

He clenched his eyes shut and took a step back. "How could you do this? With him? Do you hate me that much?"

Draco shook his head. "Again you make it about you. This was never about you, Potter. You may be surprised to learn that the world doesn't revolve around you."

Before Harry had a chance to respond, Ginny felt Ron barge past her as he pounced and knocked Draco to the ground where he proceeded to punch him repeatedly. Ginny felt trapped as she tried to get her brother off Draco while desperately avoiding Harry's gaze - she didn't want to see the betrayal etched in his face. After a few seconds Ron went flying backwards as Draco kicked him off and punched him square across the jaw, knocking him unsteady. Draco got to his feet and looked at them all before shaking his head. "Why don't you just put her under the Imperius if you're going to judge her decisions as though she's committed a mass murder? Hypocrites."

He turned to her and smirked. "I'm glad you don't need anyone - because this lot look like they're about to kick you out of their perfect little club - have fun Weasley. You've finally got all his attention, just like you've always wanted."

With that he turned and left, slamming the door behind him, leaving her in a room full of people who were disgusted by her. This wasn't supposed to have happened...

So why do you fill my sorrow,
With the words you've borrowed,
From the only place you've known?
And why do you sing Hallelujah,
If it means nothing to you?
Why do you sing with me at all?

He walked at speed away from the house until he got far enough away to apparate back home. God, how he hated them all. All of them - even her. Her with her desperate yearning for their approval and belief that she owed them something. He lived a life looking for that approval from various people - his father, Professor Snape, Voldemort, Dumbledore and it had never done him any good, and here he was expected to watch her do the same. Watch her wish her life away on something that would never come.

Not that he cared.

As he apparated back to his home he slowly opened the door and walked in. As he stepped through the door he brought his hand up to his cheek and wiped the trail of blood that had become tacky away, flinching as he did so. What a day - what had he been thinking? He smiled in spite of himself as he walked over to the mirror. It was worth it though - it was worth the beating to see their reaction to their happy little world come crumbling down. To let them feel a little taste of what he had felt when his world had been turned on its head. He had recovered quicker than they would - and that made it worthwhile.

What really made it sweet though was the fact that she finally would get to see that they wouldn't accept her unless she fitted their ideal mould. She would see how narrow minded they actually were, and how right he was when he said that they would kick her out. She was too good for them anyway, too open minded, too forgiving. She didn't see things in terms of black and white, she appreciated the different shades of grey that existed between good and evil - because she had first hand knowledge of it, and they couldn't accept that. They couldn't accept that she wouldn't just hate someone because it was the only thing she had ever known. They would never be able to accept that she was able to found her own opinions on life without their approval. They would never accept that for some reason she had chosen him over Potter.

What was confusing for him though, was the fact that she had said she hated him every night for months yet when push came to shove, she had defended him. He smiled in the mirror and shook his head - it would have been so easy for her to have got out of the situation he had put her in. They would have believed her if she had denied it - but she didn't. She wanted them to know. She wanted to ease her conscience but she didn't want to lie in order to do it. If he cared about her he would have been proud of the way she had handled herself. But, he didn't care - or so he tried to convince himself as he fought to replace the smile on his face with a frown. He would not care about her because she was a Weasley, and he would hate her the way he was supposed to. He had had his fun, he had brought their happy little world down and that would be it - over.

But for some reason, some part of him refused to be resolved to that. He let out a growl of frustration as he stormed away from the mirror and flung himself on the couch. What the hell had happened to him? Why couldn't he just accept that she wouldn't be back and pretend that he was happy about it? What had she done to him? For something that was supposed to be nothing was starting to occupy his thoughts more than was healthy. He wasn't even sure what he wanted anymore. All he knew was, some how a part of him wanted her - and that was never supposed to have happened.

So why do you fill my sorrow,
With the words you've borrowed,
From the only place you've known?

"Why?"

Ginny looked up from the seat at the faces of her brothers, Harry and Hermione as they looked down on her. She was grateful that the others had decided to leave them alone but it still felt as though she was facing a jury - all of them eager to pass judgement on her crime.

"You know how we feel about him, so why?" Ron asked.

She almost laughed as she felt her temper rise. What right did they have to interrogate her over this? "Funnily enough I wasn't thinking about getting your approval!"

Hermione tried to keep her voice calm as she sat down beside Ginny and put her hand on her shoulder. "Ginny, it's not that we're judging you..."

"We bloody well are judging her! She's going to act like a tramp, she'll get judged like a tramp," Ron interrupted only to be shushed by Hermione, who quickly continued.

"It's just - why, of all the men - why him? You know what he's like, you know what we think of him. Why, why would you choose someone who is so...unsuitable? Someone who will hurt you? Someone who is only using you? I didn't know that you were feeling that bad about yourself - I'm sorry, I should have noticed. We should have noticed and maybe, maybe then he wouldn't have been able to manipulate you like he has. But you don't have to worry - we'll fix this. Just...please, talk to us in the future."

Ginny looked at Hermione in let out a laugh as she stood up and shook her head. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You think I am so weak minded that he manipulated me? You think I am that pathetic that I can't make my own decisions?"

"No, we think he's that evil," Harry said from Ron's side. "Why else would it have happened?"

She brought her hands to her hair and tried to stop herself from screaming. "It happened because I wanted it to happen! He didn't chase me - I went to him! He didn't manipulate me - I knew exactly what I was doing, I knew exactly what I was thinking, I knew exactly what I was feeling and I didn't care!"

"What about Harry? Didn't you give him a thought?" George asked quickly, so as to cut off whatever Ron was about to say. "I mean - come on, it is Malfoy. You must have cursed him five times in school - why would you want to...you know...with him?"

"Because she's a selfish little hussy," Ron muttered as he put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "She doesn't care about anyone apart from herself."

She should have been hurt, she should have been dying inside but somehow she wasn't. If anything Ron's words steeled her - she felt stronger, determined and something else. She began to feel a sense of defiance - and a small part of her actually felt happy. Happy that the whole thing was in the open - happy that she didn't have to hide and that made the 'guilty, dirty little secret' a lot less scary. "What did I do to Harry? Tell me? What relationship have we ever had? I mean, apart from the fact that I had a crush on him for a couple of years in school, or the fact that I was his ticket into the family because you all wanted it - what real relationship have we ever had? Have we ever been out on a real date? No. Has he ever said 'Oh Ginny, I love you.' NO! I love Harry, I do but not like that! Any chances we ever had of being a couple ended when I realised what a relationship should be like," she screamed. She took a deep breath as she continued, quieter this time. "Harry - I would never, ever hurt you, but this was never about you. I was never going to be content waiting on you to make a decision about what you wanted, no matter what Ron and Hermione expected. I have a life of my own, and I forgot that after school. I need to make my own decisions."

"So you 'decided' to fuck Malfoy? Good decision making there, Ginny. I can see why shagging a sociopath is more desirable than waiting a few months for the war to be over. I mean, don't get me wrong - I guess some women like guys who treat them like dirt and will cheat on them - I just never thought you were stupid enough to be one of them. Or is it all about the sex? Just desperate for a guy to get his leg over and it was more of a buzz if it was someone we all hated? Who needs feelings after all - better to have a go with someone you hated than to wait a while until you found someone you could love."

As Harry finished speaking she felt her chest constrict as the pain she had expected to feel suddenly threatened to overwhelm her. She looked at him, his green eyes hard and his face cold. She never wanted to hurt him - ever. Yet here he was, hard, cold and cruel - and she had made him like that. How could he think that of her? "That's not true - I would never do that. Ever."

"How are we supposed to know that? We don't know you anymore, do we?" Ron said quietly as he sat down. "You're as bad as Malfoy..."

"As 'bad as Malfoy?'" she asked as she walked over to her brother. "What does that mean? Do you even know him? Do you know what he gave up to come here? Do you know what he feels, or thinks or does when he's not here? He lost everything when he came to work for Dumbledore - he has no friends, no family, no money and his father is a soulless husk rotting away in St Mungo's. Yet he still comes here, day after day to face you lot!" she yelled angrily. How dare they talk about something they didn't know anything about? How dare they judge her and him when they didn't even know them? "Draco may be arrogant, ignorant and have a past but he's upfront - you always know where you are. I always know exactly what he thinks, which is more than I can say about you all! I mean you're so quick to judge me - to assume the worst because you expect me to think the same as the rest of you. I'm not you! I have never been the same as you and if that makes me wrong, or evil, or...or 'Malfoy like' then fine - I know who I am, I know what I think and I know what I feel! I would never, ever treat any of you the way that you're treating me so don't dare try and make me feel inferior to any of you. I should be able to rely on my family no matter what!" She took a deep breath as she shook her head and began walking towards the door. "I would always be there for you - no matter who you ended up with."

"Ginny, of course we'll always be here for you," Bill said as he jumped up and ran over to her, jumping over a chair in the process. "It's just a shock, but I promise you - you're not on your own. You think we're going to string you up because of this? Because that's not how it works - you wouldn't be a Weasley if you didn't manage to screw things up every now and again. Look at me, or Charlie or Percy...how many times have we landed ourselves in it? And compared to some of our clangers, this is pretty basic stuff. Don't think you're getting the boot because of this - because there is no chance of that ever happening. None. Could you imagine what Mum and Dad would say if I let that happen? I'd get a right ear-bashing. This won't change anything, we just have to sort some things out, get over the shock and deal with it. Things will be fine after that, I promise..."

She felt herself smile briefly as she looked at her oldest brother as he tried to make things right. She wanted to believe him but one look behind him to see Ron, Fred, George, Hermione and Harry quickly ended the belief. She sighed and reached up and hugged Bill before shaking her head. "Nice try, Bill. But I don't think either of us believe that - thank you though. I have to go."

As she opened the door she heard Hermione speak. "Going to him?"

She didn't turn around as she answered. "At least with him I know where I stand. So feel free to take the opportunity to insult me some more, at least I won't be here to hear it."

With that she closed the door behind her, ran down the corridor and out the building as the tears that she had fought so desperately to hide came flooding out. She ran until she couldn't run any further and sat down on the pavement. She ran her hands across her eyes and tried to dry her tears. Here she was, alone and miserable and all for what? Because of them? Because of him?

Why was she hurting for a relationship with a man who didn't care? But, if he didn't care why did he tell them? If it meant nothing to him, why did he risk everything? If he didn't care - why did she get the distinct impression that she loved him? She stood and took a deep breath. She had to know, she had to find out. She had to know if it had been worth it - if she had lost everything for nothing. She took out her wand and apparated.

And why do you sing Hallelujah,
If it means nothing to you?
Why do you sing with me at all?

She was tired of trying to fight it, and she had gave up pretending that she didn't need it. That she didn't need him. In the minute it had taken her to walk from the spot she'd apparated at to his door and chap it, she had decided everything.

She'd decided what she was going to say, how she was going to act and how she was going to leave so she would always be in control. Yet, once he opened the door, all of the thoughts went out of her head. She could barely even think clearly as she looked at him, his cheek bruised from the punch it had received as he smirked at her. He leaned against the door frame and raised an eyebrow expectantly. "Well, well - look who's here. And here I thought it meant nothing?"

She reached up and touched his cheek, her eyes glistening with tears. "So did I. Why did you do that? You knew what would happen."

He shook his head. "Maybe I enjoy the pain. Besides, the reaction on their faces made it completely worthwhile, I wish I had done it earlier. It would have perhaps made them a little less smug - I thought for a moment there that Granger was going to collapse in shock."

She shook her head. That couldn't have been the only reason. He would not have risked everything just to spite them. She didn't want to believe that that could be the reason, because if it was then they had been right and she didn't really know him like she thought he did. She knew, deep down that there was something else. She knew that he was feeling something other than spite when he said that, but why was it so hard for him to say it? "Is that the only reason?"

He paused and shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps."

She looked at him and shook her head and turned around. If he wanted to play games then he had to find someone else. She was tired of games, she was tired of not being in control. "Fine."

As she began walking away she heard him speak. "Why did you come here, Weasley?"

"Why did you tell them? You knew they would hurt you for it."

He walked out of the room and took a few steps towards her. "Why do you care that they hurt me? Why do you care that they know? You said you didn't care about any of this, remember?"

"Why don't you care?"

He paused and shook his head. "Because they mean nothing to me and I don't need their approval regarding who I see. As you said, on more than one occasion, if it meant nothing then it shouldn't bother you that they know. Should it?"

She blinked back tears. "That wasn't your decision to make!"

"It wasn't yours either. I don't play by anyone else's rules - I play for me. And this game wasn't fun anymore. It had to end."

"We agreed!" she whispered. "This wasn't supposed to happen."

He stood in front of her and elevated her chin with his forefinger. "If you didn't want this to happen, you should have quit a long time ago. You know what they say - 'All's fair in love and war.' You're a smart woman - you should know that. I was never going to let Potter win."

She shook her head. "I never wanted to be involved in your war with Harry. I never wanted you to use me to hurt him."

He gave a small smile and shook his head. "I never said that I was using you to hurt him. I never said I was using you at all. What happened, happened because I was sick of seeing him with you. I was sick of seeing him with his hands on you, with his pretentious belief that you were his, when really - you had never been his. I was never going to let him have you without a fight."

She opened her mouth as a breath caught in her throat. She had never imagined... "You...you assume that I am some prize that you can win."

He shook his head. "No. I don't assume that I can win you. I assume that I have won you. Stand here and tell me that you don't want that. Tell me," he whispered as he bent down and kissed her neck before whispering in her ear. "Tell me that you would prefer someone else here with you. Tell me you want to go back and grovel for their forgiveness instead of staying here with your head held tall. Tell me that you still feel nothing for me..."

He pulled back from her and waited on her response. She took a deep breath and felt her eyes fill with tears. "I can't..."

As she spoke the words she saw the muscles on his face loosen up as he smiled. He smiled, and then he laughed as he bent down and kissed her forehead. "Me neither."

She felt her heart jump in her chest as she threw her arms around his neck - not caring about what tomorrow could bring, what her parents would say, how much they would hate her. All she cared about was touching him, holding him, kissing him, making love to him and knowing, for the first time that she wasn't doing something wrong. That she was loved. That she was wanted. That, no matter what, she had someone who would be on her side. That she didn't have to face it alone. That she could hold her head up high at last.

He bent down and scooped her up in his arms and looked at her before bringing his lips against hers. She drunk in the feelings of euphoria, the serenity that she had somehow never felt before as she realised that this was where she belonged. She no longer had to apologise for feelings she had - she just had to live her life the only way she knew how. She had to grasp it with both hands and hang on, because love, like so many other things was delicate and she wasn't going to let it crumble to dust just to please someone else. She knew what she felt, and she knew it wasn't wrong, and for the first time in her life - that was all that mattered.

~The End~