Love, and Other Things That Hurt

Chapter Seven

Ginny awoke the following morning with a raging fever, nausea more acute than ever, and a wonderful feeling of weightless relief in her heart. She leapt out of bed and dressed quickly, popping the purple end of a Puking Pastille and of a Fever Fudge into her mouth as she headed out of the dormitory. Even the fact that it was her time of the month, and the blood loss was draining her worse than ever, didn't serve to mar her high spirits.

Hermione was set up with her homework at a table in the common room with a napkin of toast beside her, already taking advantage of her first free period of the day, and she smiled at Ginny as she approached her.

"How are you feeling?" she asked Ginny in an undertone as several sniggering second year boys passed on the way to the portrait hole.

"I feel great," Ginny said, somewhat truthfully. "Hermione . . . thank you. I -"

"Don't mention it," Hermione said, waving her hand and looking her seriously in the eye. "Gin, I told you. You're like a sister to me, and I'm always there for you."

To her horror, Ginny felt tears rising to her eyes again.

"Oh, Merlin," she said impatiently, brushing them away and laughing nervously. "I'm a mess. I can't wait for the weekend."

"It's going to be brilliant," said Ron, appearing next to Hermione and dumping his books onto hers with a sigh. "You're not nervous, are you, Gin?"

Ginny looked at him blankly. "About what?"

Ron raised his eyebrows. "The House championship! What else?"

"Oh, yes, yes," Ginny said, shaking her head. "Right. Of course. Yes, it'll be a good game."

"Ginny," Hermione murmured, leaning over to her as Ron began rummaging noisily through his book bag. "I was talking to Harlow and Linnéa this morning when I nipped down to the Great Hall for toast."

"So?" Ginny asked reluctantly.

"So," Hermione said, lowering her voice further as Harry came over with an armful of parchment scrolls, "they miss you, Ginny. This is ridiculous. You really should tell them, you know."

Ginny didn't bother to argue. "I should go," she said with a little inaudible sigh. "See you guys later."

She returned Hermione's wistful smile halfheartedly and made for the portrait hole as quickly as possible without appearing to do so.

"'Morning, Ginny," Neville said with a yawn as he caught up to her in the Entrance Hall. "Some detention, eh?"

"Yeah, it was really something," Ginny said vaguely. She had just caught sight of Draco, standing off to the side with a group of Slytherins and Alyssa on his arm. Neville seemed to realize that her attention was elsewhere because he followed her gaze.

"He's such a prat," Neville said crossly, scowling at Draco as Alyssa gave a high, false laugh at something he was saying. "Is his whole life a grand performance or is he really that - that confident?"

It took Ginny a lot of effort to tear her eyes away from the appalling sight. "I've no idea," she said flatly. "C'mon, Neville. Breakfast."

However, Ginny hadn't even reached the door when someone grabbed her arm. She turned to see Harlow, whose face was ashen and drawn and yet set with a kind of ferocity that stopped Ginny in her tracks.

"I want to talk to you," she said point-blank. "Neville, can you give us a moment?"

Neville scurried alone into the Great Hall and Harlow pulled Ginny aside into a vacant corner of the Entrance Hall. Filled with trepidation, Ginny unwillingly met Harlow's gaze.

"What the fuck," Harlow said, "is your problem?"

Ginny stared at her, her mouth slightly open. "I -"

"No, you know what?" Harlow said, interrupting her before she could speak. "It doesn't even matter. It's not like you're going to divulge that privileged information anyway."

Ginny could not remember ever hearing Harlow so angry before. The American girl had a fierce temper, but her flares were so brief, not to mention few and far between, that they were never associated with the happy-go-lucky brunette who was standing in front of Ginny now, her face hurt and resentful.

"Harlow, I -"

"Listen, Ginevra," Harlow said, breathing in and out deeply through her nose and closing her eyes, clearly trying to get her anger under control. "Just . . . listen to me. I don't know what's going on with you, I really don't. And I don't know about you, but I was under the impression that we were best friends."

"We are!" Ginny said, chewing on her tongue and staring up at the taller girl who had opened her eyes and was now frowning at Ginny. "Harlow, we are best friends. It's just silly -"

Harlow cut her off. "Is there something going on with you, Gin?"

Ginny hesitated. "Yes."

"Is it hurting you?"

It makes my heart ache.

"No."

"Is it making you cry?"

So many tears for so many reasons.

"Um . . . not exactly."

"Are you in danger?"

Of being hurt even more?

"No!"

Harlow studied Ginny critically. "I'm angry," she said finally, matter-of-factly. "I'm pissed right off at you. I miss you more than you can know. I'm frustrated, Gin - can you understand that?"

"Yes, and -"

"Shh! I'm angry. But . . ." Harlow bit her lip, shaking her head slightly. "God. I can't believe I'm saying this, but I don't care. As long as it's not hurting you, I won't let whatever it is hurt our friendship anymore. For all I know, you could be running off to the Forbidden Forest every night and befriending the centaurs, or having an affair with the Giant Squid -"

Ginny giggled, but stopped almost immediately. At this, however, Harlow, actually cracked a smile, and it was amazing how quickly and simply her entire appearance changed with the return of her familiar grin. Color flooded back into her ashen face and she looked almost relieved.

"I understand little secrets, things that belong in a diary," Harlow said. "Just promise me that if you ever want to talk about it, I'm here, OK? Promise me that you still trust me, even if you don't trust me with this."

"I promise," Ginny said immediately, her heart lifting already. Was she really getting an out?

"And Gin -" Harlow glanced towards the Great Hall. "Make up with Linnéa, OK? She's heartbroken. But I talked to her about this, and she just wants the fighting to end."

Ginny nodded with a sigh. Harlow leaned in and hugged her tightly.
"I love you a ton," she said into Ginny's ear, and Ginny hugged her back just as hard. "Even though sometimes I want to kill you."

Ginny laughed. Harlow said goodbye before heading to Gryffindor tower to grab her schoolbag and Ginny walked into the Great Hall alone.

"Hi, Gin!" Dennis said, popping out from behind the open doors and nearly scaring Ginny out of her wits.

"Don't do that!" she hissed, smacking him on the shoulder. He looked sheepish.

"Sorry," he said with a shrug. "How's it going?"

"Fantastic." Draco was holding court at the Slytherin table, and about half of the girls there were watching him stormily. It wasn't difficult to see why; Alyssa was half in his lap, giggling uncontrollably at everything. She seemed to be feeding off the attention and when she spotted Ginny, she caught her eye and gave her a gloating wink, which unnerved Ginny for more than one reason. Why on earth would she think Ginny would be jealous of her because she was on Draco's arm?

Surely the furious envy emanating from Ginny's every pore wasn't tangible, was it?

She turned back to Dennis, realizing that she hadn't been listening to a single thing he had been saying.

"I'm sorry, what, Dennis?" she said absently as Alyssa began playing with Draco's loose platinum locks.

Dennis heaved an impatient sigh. "I said, Madam Pomfrey says she wants to see you. She said not to worry about missing History of Magic, she'll send a note."

This caught Ginny's attention. "What does she want to see me for?"

Dennis shrugged. "I dunno. Something about a special potion."

Since Ginny's first year, which she spent largely under the control of You-Know-Who, she had always suffered agonizing migraines. Her mother made her herbal concoctions that St. Mungo's Healers prescribed, but there was a certain potion that Madam Pomfrey ordered especially from the wilds of Mongolia that did the trick. Ginny had forgotten to ask for it the last time she had been to the hospital wing, looking for Draco, and she felt a sudden wave of relief. Maybe that was the cause of the nausea and fever! Maybe it wasn't the nasty flu, but just symptoms of the migraines that she hadn't been treating. Ginny would take the potion and be good as new for the Quidditch House Championship on Saturday.

"Oh, right," she said happily. "Perfect. What's up with you, Dennis?"

"Oh, you know," he said, lifting and lowering a shoulder. "Not much. Kevin is mad at Colin, though, and I've no idea why."

"Yesterday's detention was rather tumultuous," Ginny said dryly. "It was silly, really, Dennis. I'm sure everything will be back to normal in no time?"

"Yeah?" Dennis said uncertainly. "How can you be sure?"

Before Ginny could open her mouth to respond, the bell rang signaling the end of breakfast.

"Oh, damn," Ginny said, already starting towards the Gryffindor table. "Sorry, Dennis, but I'm starving and I want to grab some toast before the House Elves clear up. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Bye," Dennis said heavily, shuffling off.

When Ginny turned towards the Gryffindor table, she smacked into Neville with a surprised intake of breath.

"Oops," Neville said, rubbing his forehead. "Sorry, Gin. Didn't mean to scare you."

"No problem," Ginny said, attempting to get past him, but he stood in her way.

"I really need to talk to you," he said in a low voice.

"Right now?" Ginny asked impatiently. "It's not a great time."

"It needs to be now," Neville said firmly. "Now, er . . . don't be mad, but -"

He was cut-off as Professor Snape sidled over to them, leering down his hook nose at Neville, who immediately turned as white as parchment.

"I believe you should be in class, should you not, Longbottom?" Snape said in a coldly quiet voice. "Breakfast is over."

"I - I -" Neville said, his voice faint. "I - yes, I mean . . . I'm sorry, P-professor."

Snape slowly turned his gaze onto Ginny. "And you, Miss Weasley?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

Ginny nodded, her jaw clenched. Snape gave Neville one last piercing look before sweeping off. Neville, his voice still faltering with terror, muttered a hurried farewell to Ginny before sprinting off without another word.

As Ginny reached the Gryffindor table, she found her way blocked by Linnéa, who was holding a napkin and a bacon sandwich.

"I saved this for you," she said, and Ginny took it, smiling.

"Thank you," she said, and Linnéa seemed to pick up on the moment and returned the smile. There was a brief silence, penetrated by the loud chatter, scraping of benches, and movement around them, but before either of them could say anything, both girls said "I'm sorry" in unison, and then laughed.

"Friends?" Ginny said simply, and Linnéa nodded, her eyes alight.

"I talked to Harlow," she said. "If you say you're OK, Gin, we believe you."

"Thanks," Ginny said. She wondered if she should keep talking, but that was one of the most wonderful things about Linnéa - an excess of words wasn't necessary. The two girls parted a few minutes later, Linnéa heading for Muggle Studies, Ginny to the hospital wing. Everything was falling back into place.

Or almost everything.

A hand grabbed Ginny's shoulder as she started down the corridor off the Entrance Hall that would take her to the hospital wing and she jumped so high that she almost hit her forehead on a low torch bracket. She spun around to see Draco, who was grinning.

"You must have been a million miles away to not hear me coming," he said. "I don't exactly have a light and gentle gait."

"What do you want?" Ginny said irritably, turning back around and speeding her steps up. "I don't have time for witty banter."

"Meaning you don't have time to hear me talk to myself?" Draco said in a wry voice, keeping up with her with no difficulty. "What's the problem, Red?"

"What are you doing here anyway?" Ginny asked icily, turning the corner sharply and inwardly hoping he would hit his head on the low ceiling of the new corridor. "Where's your arm candy?"

This seemed to take him aback. "Come again?"

"Trophy wife, hot little number, blond beach bunny, darling Aussie doll," Ginny quipped viciously, her teeth clenched. "Take your pick, Draco, and don't act like you don't know who I'm talking about."

Sigh. "Weasley, I rarely know what the hell you're talking about."

"Alyssa!" Ginny said furiously, stopping abruptly and turning to jab a finger into his chest. "How long have you been together? Are you just bringing it out into the open now or have I just been too stupid to notice earlier?"

"What the fu -"

"Oh, please," Ginny said, throwing up her arms in exasperation and glaring at him. "It's not like I haven't noticed. Everyone's talking about you and your . . . prom queen Barbie."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "Prom queen?"

Ginny scowled. "It's an American thing. Don't change the subject."

Draco rolled his eyes. "God, your idiocy is getting tiresome."

Ginny whirled around and stalked away from him again. He followed, striding to keep up to her. "Will you stop bolting without letting me defend myself, for Christ's sake?"

"Will you stop calling me an idiot?" Ginny demanded, not slowing down. "I don't know who you think I am but I am certainly not one of your desperate chemically-enhanced groupies that will fall at your feet while you verbally abuse me."

"Red, do you even know what the hell verbal abuse is?"

"Shut up. I don't want to talk to you right now."

Draco's hand closed over her wrist, and he pulled her to him, clamping his other hand on her waist. "You're a complete idiot," he said, his face an inch from hers. "It's usually kind of hot, but right now it's just annoying. So would you mind telling me what the problem is?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Ginny said sarcastically, wrenching her arm out of his grip and folding both arms across her chest. "I'm so unreasonable. Most people don't have a problem with competition in the form of an over-processed piece of blonde plastic draped across their boyfriend's lap."

"Boyfriend?" Draco said, a hint of amusement on his impassive face. "That sounds so quaint."

"You are not funny," Ginny snapped. "You wanted time to defend yourself, here it is. Let's hear the big defense. Work your Malfoy charm on me just like you've done to every girl to get them to fall at your feet."

Before she knew it, Draco had grabbed her again and backed her into a cramped nook in the stone wall of the corridor. He pressed her gently against the wall and nuzzled her neck with his nose. "The charm I possess has nothing to do with the family name," he murmured into her ear. "It's all me. And I really don't think you want me to employ that charm on you right now if you're dead set on staying mad at me."

Ginny would have made a sardonic retort, but she seemed to have forgotten what she was angry about. "Stop it," she managed as one hand slid underneath the back of her shirt. "That's not fair."

Draco released her but kept her up against the wall. "Can you please repeat the question?"

"Alyssa - "

"Alyssa who?"

Ginny glowered at him, and he merely smirked.

"I don't have time for this," she said, pushing him back and sliding out from in front of him. "Don't you have class?"

He shrugged. "Double Transfiguration."

Ginny frowned. "You're going to get detention again."

Draco grinned. "Occupational hazard. It won't be too bad. I think that after yesterday I've definitely gotten the hang of that pickling business."

He grazed her mouth with his, tracing the space between her lips with his tongue while his hands slid down the back of her thighs, and then, as soon as it had began, he was already walking away in the opposite direction.

"See ya, Red," he called, and it wasn't until he had disappeared that Ginny noted, with exasperation, frustration, and a grudging amusement that the bastard had never answered her question.

-

"Miss Weasley," Madam Pomfrey said by way of greeting when Ginny knocked on the hospital wing door several minutes later. "Come in and have a seat."
Ginny acquiesced, dropping into one of the cushy chairs next the door, several feet away from the nearest curtained bed. Madam Pomfrey bustled into her office, rummaged around in what appeared to be a desk drawer, and emerged a moment later holding a corked glass bottle, whose contents seemed to be a misty green liquid.

"Just came in last night," Madam Pomfrey said, slapping the bottle into Ginny's lap and looking at her sternly. "My, you are looking peaky."

"Well, this should clear it right up," Ginny said cheerfully, examining the bottle. "Thanks, Madam Pomfrey. My head's been killing me for awhile now."

"Hmmm," the matron said, frowning. "You've lost an awful lot of weight, Ginevra. Have you been eating?"

"Same as always."

"And your monthly courses?"

"Regular."

"Nausea? Fever?"

Ginny hesitated. "Both," she said. "But I'm sure they're just a symptom of the migraines, and I've been using the Snackboxes to -"

Madam Pomfrey tsked. "Typical teenager," she muttered darkly, waving her wand and conjuring a piece of parchment and loaded quill from her office, which instantly began to write after zooming in front of her. "It's springtime, Miss Weasley, which means illness in this castle is rampant. Added stress of exams and that Quidditch business, and your young developing bodies are breeding grounds for those nasty bugs that keep me busy until the twenty ninth of June when you're all sent home for the summer. Now, how long have you been ill?"

Ginny impatiently raised her shoulders. "A few weeks or so."

"Vomiting?"

"Yes."

Madam Pomfrey heaved an irritated sigh and pulled Ginny to her feet, examining her complexion critically and turning her sideways to examine her. "It must be the influenza," she said finally, her forehead creasing. She produced a small jar of what looked to be ointment and presented it to Ginny. "This is an oral antidote," she said firmly as Ginny wrinkled her nose at the fishy smell emanating from the contents. "A spoonful at every meal and you should be right as rain within a couple of days. I'll give you a cup of Pepper-Up Potion right now before you leave, take a blood sample, and you'll be on your way. And next time, Ginevra, you come straight to me when you're ill."

Ginny agreed halfheartedly, and as Madam Pomfrey hurried away to fetch the Pepper-Up Potion, Ginny recapped the jar stuck it into the pocket of her robes. At least she would be well for the Quidditch game, she reminded herself. As she left the hospital wing five minutes later for History of Magic, holding a signed note from the matron and smoking heavily from the ears with a small bandage on the pinprick in her arm. She felt slightly put-out at Madam Pomfrey's lecture. She wasn't that ill, so why should she have to go blow everything out of proportion?

History of Magic was nearly over when Ginny arrived, and when the bell rang she spent break in the library, attempting to throw together the remainder of her Care of Magical Creatures homework. After two hours of studying the Manticore (which Hagrid kept in a steel cage despite his insistences that it was "harmless, really"), she hurried up to Gryffindor Tower to grab her Potions kit and nip into the bathroom. When she emerged from the portrait hole several minutes later, a handful of third year Ravenclaws were hurrying past in the corridor, and Ginny just caught the words "Neville Longbottom" through their chortles before they disappeared from sight around the corner. Glancing curiously after them, Ginny started for the Great Hall to find Linnéa and Harlow for lunch, and by the time she reached the corridor that led to the spiral staircase, people were sprinting up the stairs, laughing uproariously, and again Ginny heard Neville's name. This time, Ginny held out her arm to stop a small first-year girl.

"Excuse me," she said. "Why is everyone talking about Neville Longbottom?"

The girl put a hand to her mouth and giggled. "Go see for yourself," she suggested, pointing towards the staircase before scampering off. Ginny pushed her way through the mass of people, either coming to or going from the direction of the Entrance Hall, and by the time Ginny reached the top of the staircase, she saw what everyone was looking at.

Neville was alone in the middle of the Entrance Hall. He was wearing his dress robes, which were of red velvet, but they were far too small for him. The sleeves went to halfway down his forearm, the bottom barely hit his ankles, and the collar appeared to be constricting his breathing. It appeared that he had attempted to do something with his hair to achieve an effortless wave, very like the hairstyle Gilderoy Lockhart had employed, but it merely looked greasy and stiff with hair potion. His eyes were almost manic, wide and overbright, and he was standing on top of a rickety wooden platform that looked as though it had been conjured by him himself. People were standing around, either in hysterics or simply staring at his odd appearance.

Ginny, frozen in her tracks and staring down at Neville over the banister, saw his face suddenly light up, and she followed his gaze. Linnéa had just appeared from one of the chambers off the hall holding an armful of books and chatting with Harlow, but she halted as the Hall grew quiet and she noticed dozens of eyes on her as nearly everyone gathered around turned to look at her as well.

Though she had no time to react to the situation except to gape in horror at Neville, Ginny felt herself begin to panic inwardly. This was not good.

"Linnéa!" Neville cried, and the entire Hall fell into dead silence.

Linnéa's face was shocked as Neville, who had now raised his wand, pointed it upwards and conjured what appeared to be a banner to hang from the ceiling. When it unfurled, Ginny saw that it was an ivory tablet with a calligraphy 'L' in the center, surrounded by bouquets of small purple flowers.

"Linnéa!" Neville declared again, gesturing at the banner, a wide grin splitting across his shining face. "The most beautiful flower of them all!"

"Are you kidding me?" Ginny said loudly, causing several people to look up, startled.

A few teachers seemed to be growing curious about what was happening, sticking their heads out of the Great Hall to investigate. Professor Flitwick's head of bushy white hair appeared under the door handle, his glasses sliding down his nose. Neville didn't seem to notice. He waved his wand again and a black satin top hat appeared in his hand. He jammed it onto his head and stepped off the platform with difficulty, looking at Linnéa with what he evidently imagined was an intense, blazing look, but which merely translated to constipation. Several people were giggling again and Ginny buried her face in her hands, but when she looked up, the scene had not evaporated as she had hoped. Neville had stridden over to Linnéa and seized her hand so that all her books fell to the floor with a resounding crash.

"My lady," he said, his voice ringing around the Entrance Hall. "I respectfully request . . ." He tilted his head downwards, raising his eyebrows in what translated as a suggestive gesture, ". . . your attention for one moment."

He steered a dismayed Linnéa through the crowd of people to the platform. She looked completely stunned, and Ginny began to look around wildly, trying to find a gap in which she could get down the stairs and derail this.

"Neville!" Linnéa could be heard to hiss as Neville released her in front of the platform. "What are you -" But Neville didn't answer. He swept off his hat and clutched her hand.

"Please accept this song as a token of my feelings," he said in a husky voice that made the Hufflepuff girls behind Ginny collapse into fits of hysterics. "It's not much, but it's all I have for you, humble man that I am." He pointed his wand towards his throat and said, "S-sonorous!"

"Neville," Ginny moaned, trying to push her way through the horde of bodies with great difficulty. "Oh, God. Please don't do it, please don't do it, please -"

"Hit it!" Neville called over his shoulder, and everyone, including the several teachers that had emerged from the Great Hall, leaned forward to get a better look as a small person pushed his way out of the crowd, holding a keyboard with a neck strap that was almost the same size as he was. It was Kevin Whitby.

"Is he going to sing?" asked a couple of lanky Slytherin boys a few feet away from Ginny, sniggering with their hands over their mouths. Ginny shot them a dirty look, but next moment her attention had snapped back to the Entrance Hall below as Kevin played a note on the keyboard, which, apparently, was Neville's starting note, because he started humming the same note, and as Kevin hit another note, higher this time, Neville released Linnéa's hand and stepped back onto the wooden platform, his arms spread wide, his eyes wide as he kept eye contact with Linnéa, who seemed too shocked and mortified to move.
"You," Neville began in a slightly wavering voice, pausing to clear his throat before continuing, "are . . ."

Kevin hit a chord that sounded slightly screechy and everyone in the near vicinity winced.

"Sooooooooooo beautiful," Neville continued without warning, his voice ringing through the Entrance Hall, his pitchy vibrato making Ginny's teeth ache. "To me!"

"What is he singing?" asked a girl a few yards away from Ginny to her friend.

"It's a Muggle song," the friend responded uncertainly. "At least I think it is."

"You are so beautiful," Neville sang, his voice falling into a whisper that nevertheless carried through the Hall. "To -"

"Wait for it," said a deep-voiced Ravenclaw boy in front of Ginny, making his friends snigger.

"Meeee!" Neville wailed, and Linnéa actually cringed, though that may have been because Neville appeared to be showering her with saliva with every word.

Kevin fell into a steady rhythm, balancing the keyboard on his knobby knees and playing a chirpy yet slow romantic tune as Neville brandished his wand and a long black velour cape fell around his shoulders.

"Can't you see?" Neville was really on a roll now. His cheeks were flushed and he was panting between words with the apparent effort of breathing beneath his too-tight robes, but his face was set. "You're everything I hoped for . . ."

Linnéa was staring at him, her mouth slightly open, and he stepped down from the platform once again towards her, and held his hand out to touch her shoulder.

"You're everything I need . . ."

A hand gripped Ginny's shoulder as well and she started, jerking back at almost hitting a few people with her elbow. Draco had somehow worked his way up to her through the crowd of people, and judging by the unhappy expressions that adorned the faces of people all the way down the corridor, he hadn't been gracious about it.

"So this is Gryffindor's version of showbiz," he said musingly, watching Neville and sliding an arm around Ginny's waist. "Sounds like he missed a few key rehearsals.

"You are sooooooooo . . ."

"Draco!" Ginny hissed, pushing his arm away. "Stop it! People will see!"

"Beeaaaaautiful . . ."

Draco raised his eyebrows and glanced around. Not one person was paying them the slightest bit of attention to them. On the contrary, everyone who wasn't giggling behind his or her hands was watching the scene below with fixed interest.

" To . . ."

"Oh, whatever," Ginny snapped. "You're going to get me in trouble."

Draco ignored her. "This has got to be the most fun I've had all day."

"ME!"

"This is a nightmare," Ginny moaned, her head in her hands. "This is an absolute nightmare. And it's not like I can go down there and make a scene to stop him. She'll never forgive him for this."

"I'm not disputing that this is mortifying for Decoulter," Draco said with a shrug. "But do you know that for a fact?"

"He's embarrassing her publicly!" Ginny said, turning around with difficulty to look at him with disbelief. "She can't even stand having him touch her hand, I can't imagine what she's going to think after this . . ."

"Well," Draco said, still watching the scene with mild distaste and amusement even though Ginny was still glaring at him. "I'm no expert, Red, but I'd say she'll get over it."

Ginny turned around to follow his gaze.

"Such joy and happiness you bring . . ." Neville crooned, his chest heaving with emotion, and when Ginny looked at Linnéa, and was stunned to see her best friend's face slowly break into a smile.

"What -" Ginny began, startled, but as Neville repeated the last line and went reached for Linnéa's hand, she was shocked into silence to see Linnéa reach out and take his first. Several people tittered throughout the Hall and Neville's face broke into a look of complete ecstasy as he looked down in disbelief at his hand in hers and then up at her face (she was taller than him).

"Like a dream," he stammered, his voice faltering, and Linnéa took a step towards him, smiling encouragingly, which seemed to relax him. "A guiding light -"

"I think I'm going to throw up," Draco said flatly, but Ginny didn't respond. She seemed to have lost her ability to speak, and, though like before she couldn't tear her eyes away from the sight below, it was now for a different reason.

"That shines in the night -"

Kevin, who had climbed onto the platform Neville had vacated, was having trouble with the chords in this section, but suddenly the keyboard seemed to have acquired a life of its own. Kevin stared, wide-eyed, at the keys that were playing themselves and emitting complex music that could never be played by one person or one instrument alone, and Ginny, distracted, glanced at the crowd and saw Hermione tucking her wand back into her robes, looking rather pleased with herself.

"Heaven's gift to me!" Neville's face was shining with sweat but he belted out the line so that, though slightly out of key, it rang strong through the Hall, and Linnéa let go of Neville's hand and slipped her arms around his neck. Ginny leaned over the banister to see her more clearly, and saw that her best friend's eyes were alight and that the grin on her face was involuntary. Ginny had never seen that smile before. Neville hesitated before putting a hand on her waist, and as he opened his mouth for the last of his number, he reached up with his free hand and whipped off the top hat, tossing it into the crowd where it was caught by several giddy fourth year girls.

"Classy," Draco said, leaning into Ginny, who continued to ignore him, causing him merely to smirk.

"You -"

Linnéa bit her bottom lip, shyly looking down at him.

"Are -"

Kevin made a swipe at the piano so that a random yet vigorous chord interrupted the flow of perfect music that played.

"Sooooooo -"

Neville's face was bright red now, but he sang on.

"Beautiful . . ."

Ginny turned to look at Draco, who held her gaze with one eyebrow slanted upwards, and she turned away before he could speak. Neville had torn off his cape now and tossed that aside, and as the enchanted keyboard came to an enhanced crescendo that Ginny was sure couldn't have been in the original version of the song, Neville leaned forward minutely.

"To me," he finished in a voice that was almost a whisper, and he beamed at Linnéa. She smiled back, and as he leaned slowly a little bit closer, Linnéa closed the distance and kissed him.

Ginny's jaw dropped. The music continued and the Great Hall broke into a storm of applause and wolf-whistling. Dennis Creevey was cheering from behind much taller people, Kevin was still fighting for the ability to control the keyboard, which wasn't surrendering to him, and Ginny stared open-mouthed as Neville and Linnéa stood in the middle of a crowd of people, snogging their hearts out. As Ginny's eyes moved slowly to Harlow, she saw her other best friend was motionless and apparently quite as stupefied as she, Ginny, was.

"Goddamn," Draco said musingly. "I can't believe it."

"What?" Ginny asked wearily, her chin in her hands as Neville attempted to pick Linnéa up bridal-style and failed, swooping into kiss her again instead.

"You people never cease to amaze me, that's all," Draco said with a smirk, shaking his head at the scene below. "Longbottom overtly makes a degrading performance in front of the entire school and still manages to get the girl."

Ginny too was still taken aback at Linnéa's behavior, but she didn't at all like the tone in Draco's voice. "And what is that supposed to mean?" she asked coldly, turning to face him as the crowd began slowly to disperse, heading into the Great Hall while Neville and Linnéa stood in each other's arms, looking dazedly at each other.

Draco shrugged, leaning back against a column and yawning. "It means what it means, Weasley," he said carelessly. "Now, about tonight -"

But Ginny wasn't listening. "Just because you can't possibly comprehend the lengths a person will go for someone they love doesn't make the actions of someone who can, degrading," she snapped, and in her anger she pushed him. He was so caught off guard that he actually had to grab the column for support, and he scowled at her.

"Weasley, what the hell -"

"No!" Ginny said, brandishing her hand down at Neville and Linnéa who had begun snogging again. "Look at that, Draco. Do you know what that is? It's not shameful. It's not embarrassing. Going to those lengths was a risk for Neville, but it obviously paid off. He did things his own way, not the way anyone else told him. He followed his heart. When have you ever done that in your life? When have you ever done anything for your heart?"

Draco stared at her stonily.

"That is love" Ginny said fiercely, pointing again to Neville and Linnéa. "That's something that you could never understand, because you're not man enough, Draco. You don't have the strength for love, and you don't have the courage, and you certainly don't have the heart."

She pushed through the crowd away from him, moving against the tide of people towards Gryffindor tower. She heard footsteps behind her all the way to the portrait hole and when she finally turned around to tell him off again, Draco wasn't there.

The footsteps had merely been the echo of her own, and she was alone.

Again.