An Addictive Solution

Chapter Seven

Draco had stayed beside her the whole day, and it had seemed like heaven. He helped her with her essays and they laughed together, always followed by the attentive eyes of Madam Pomfrey.

"And that's how I found out that you shouldn't try to Reduccio an already small pixie," Draco finished his story, while Ginny laughed so hard she had tears in her eyes.

"Oh, Draco, there is more to you then meets the eye!" she said humorously.

"Yeah, well." He felt embarrassed by her comment. "Whatever..."

They were silent for a moment, an awkward silence while they remembered everything that had happened that day. Especially the kiss.

"So, tell me more about that favourite author of yours..." Ginny broke the silence; she decided not to think about the kiss they had shared. "Anaïs Nin."

"Oh, well, you remembered?" He seemed surprised.

"Of course I did! I remember everything you told me!"

Her smile faded after she realized what she had said. She felt extremely uncomfortable, and so did Draco, but he decided not to show it.

"Well, she is a French writer. I didn't like her much at first, because she was too..."

"Romantic?"

"Feminine." Draco smiled, setting her heart on fire. "I don't think she is that romantic, although there is some of it in her work... But it's not the main point, you see? She is more erotic than romantic..."

"Oh, now I understand why you like her..." she joked, feeling her face burn.

"Because she is erotic?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow "But that's not why I like her. She helps me understand women better..."

She just looked at him, puzzled, so he decided to explain:

"She is a poet. When you read her words, you can almost feel it against your skin..." His voice was low, making her tremble at the image he was describing. "And you feel aroused. Not because she is talking about sex, but because she puts so much more into sex. It's not about two or more people," Ginny felt her face burn harder with his words "having sex." He moved closer to her, as if to rearrange her pillow. "It's about everything that causes it and everything caused by it. It's about emotions and sensations together to become much more than you would think as a man." He sighed. "And that's why it's so erotic."

She was captured by his words. She was so afraid she would ruin it that she didn't say anything.

"Maybe I'll read it for you someday," he said mockingly, moving away from her. "Or, even better, you will read it for me..."

She felt breathless and she knew she would have to break that moment now, before he began to laugh and she felt worse. "I don't like your games."

"My games?" Draco asked, looking her in the eye. "Do you think I'm playing games with you?"

She nodded nervously. And then, to her surprise, and also to his, he blinked and said, "Smart girl."

She was speechless, gazing at him with scared and pleading eyes. They didn't know what to say or what to do, and then Madam Pomfrey came to save the day.

"Well, I think you are ready to go, now, Ginny."

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Draco helped her up the staircase, although she insisted she was feeling well enough to go by herself. She wasn't used to his gentlemanly side. Actually, she didn't want to be used to it. It had been what, three days since they had started getting to know each other, and she was already in love. And although she should have felt encouraged by this, she couldn't. All she could feel was despair and loneliness. Every time it seemed he was starting to care he would look at her with those mocking eyes and say something in his cold tone and everything would fall apart. She wasn't ready to have her heart broken. Not by Draco.

But she wasn't ready to die either. Or was she?

Suddenly, it became an answer, not a problem. Not that she was suicidal; far from that. But being beside him was already killing her. Being so close to him and not being able to touch him or even understand him; this seemed worse than death. It sounded extreme when she thought about it, but it was how she felt. It was too intense inside of her. It was a kind of pain she didn't know if she would be able to live with.

And let's face it; she wouldn't live by the end of it anyway. He was a player. It was just as he had said: they were two contestants of a game. But she had felt the prize, while he didn't want to feel it. He wanted to touch it, to have something precious in his hands, and just then he would call it a prize. A feeling wouldn't fulfil him.

That was her answer. She looked up at him, watching him help her, almost like he was worried. But that was a lie. He was just trying to become the someone else he wanted to be. And she was only a way for him to achieve it. He didn't love her. He would never love her.

"So, I'll see you tomorrow?" he said when they reached the top of the staircase. "As we both have classes, I thought we could have lunch together and then..."

"I won't be seeing you tomorrow," she said, her voice resolute.

"What?" he asked, confused.

"I won't be seeing you tomorrow," Ginny repeated, even firmer this time. "And I won't be seeing you the day after tomorrow, nor the day after that. I'm tired of this game."

He was shocked: "You don't know what you are talking about..."

"Yes, I know, and that's why I'm saying it," Ginny said, walking away from him. "I'm not your problem anymore, alright? You don't have to worry about me, or about your reputation, and you don't need to care about what will happen if you fail. Actually, you don't have to care about what will happen at all. I have made my choice, and you are free to go."

Draco was puzzled and somewhat hurt. "Yes, and I'll watch you die without even trying?"

"That's no different from what you would normally do, Malfoy." Ginny's voice was shaking, and she knew she had to end this conversation quickly before she burst into tears. "If you don't want to watch me dying, just look the other way when I pass by you in the corridor. That's what I'll do."

He was trembling with rage at her words, feeling betrayed, and he couldn't explain why. The mixture of emotions he felt was increasing his anger. Then, when he finally couldn't take it any longer, he shouted:

"So we're back to Malfoy, then, Weasel? You seem to forget very quickly what I've done for you. And you know what?" his eyes were red and he was about to explode. "It's fine by me! Die by yourself and save me the trouble!"

And with that, he left, leaving her sobbing uncontrollably in the middle of the corridor to the Gryffindor Tower.