A/N: This is the last chapter, more commonly known as the epilogue of this story. Why? Draco and Ginny are together now. I've dragged this on for faaar too long. I guess I'm only even writing this because I seemed to have promised one last chapter. Nothing much left to say. But I will miss you reviewers terribly, because you've all been too good to me. : - (
The Hopefully Non-Magic Diary of Ginny Weasley
Three months after what became known to Ginny as the Second Diary Incident, people were still giving them awkward stares.
It was simply outrageous. Everything from half-baked attempts to break them apart (courtesy of Jealous Slytherin Females) to vicious hate letters that (literally) bit them. Was it really a big deal? Once upon a time, Ginny would have loved all this attention—not now, however.
It didn't help matters that her so-called boyfriend was being none too sympathetic about it.
" You'd think that three months is enough time for the information to sink into their thick skulls, wouldn't you agree?" Ginny snapped irritably, frowning as she stomped down the hallway.
Draco shrugged from beside her. She turned to look at him and saw that he clearly was not listening—his eyes had that glazed, go-on-I'll-pretend-I-care look to about them.
" Great." Ginny ground her teeth. This really was not her day. " Just great. Are you even listening to me, Malfoy?" She whirled on her feet to stand in front of the blonde. After a moment, he seemed to realize that silence had replaced Ginny's loud rants, and he blinked rapidly.
" Er—you were saying?" He offered hesitantly. At least he was sensitive enough to notice the withering glare coming from Ginny.
" No, never mind." Ginny said, pretending to be nonchalant, even as anger coursed through her. " If you haven't the time to listen to what I have to say, just forget it—"
" Gin—" He began.
" No, really." Ginny faked a smile. " I must be going to Potions class, dear." Hugging her books tightly to her chest, a suddenly sullen look replaced the look of feigned happiness on her face. " I just can't get away from those damned Slytherins, can I?"
By dinnertime, however, Ginny was back to talking Draco's ear off. Who else did she have to go to, anyway? Ron went into a frenzy whenever he heard the word Malfoy uttered. Harry wasn't too far from there, and although Hermione was at times sympathetic, she wouldn't understand.
" Draco, what is wrong with you?" She asked concernedly when she noticed Draco dazing off for the 5th time that day.
" I heard you." He sighed tiredly from beside her. He looked unusually pale, and not that she thought of it—she hadn't seem him smile for quite a while now. " But what can you do, Gin? The idea of us being together takes a long time to get used to. I'm still having trouble getting used to it."
If these words were supposed to be comforting—they had the exact opposite effect. What she would have liked to hear was something along the lines of, ' Gin, it doesn't matter what they say as long as we're together and happy. I love you, and that's all that matters. Screw those nimwits who say otherwise.'
Ginny's eyes flashed with hurt and slight understanding. In her mind, there was simply no longer any doubt—after all, the signs pointed to it.
" I see." Was all she could say to him. And for the second time that day, she walked away from him briskly.
It was around noon on Saturday that Hermione heard an enormous sob coming from behind a tall bookcase.
" Ginny?" Hermione called, hurrying to see what was the matter. The redhead seemed to be uncontrollably sobbing, book perched primly in front of her.
" Er—sad book?" Hermione guessed, peering knowingly at the title (Herbology For The Advanced). Ginny quickly shook her head before giving her another woeful look of her brown eyes.
" No!" She hiccupped, before a fresh bucket of tears rolled down her cheeks.
" What, then?" Hermione probed carefully, taking a seat across from her. One word emitted from Ginny's mouth.
" Draco!" Hermione cringed. How many times has she prophesized this day would come?
" What about him, dear?" She asked, although in the back of her mind, she knew the answer too well.
" He—He doesn't love me anymore!" Ginny burst out.
Hermione thought about this. What she really wanted to say was, ' Tough luck. Did you honestly think a relationship with Malfoy would work, Ginny?'—but it wasn't like she would really say that. No, she could not.
" Be sensible, Ginny. How do you know he doesn't love you?"
" He's never listening." She was quick to point out, drying her tears rapidly. Anger seemed to be the next emotion that filtered in through her mind. " Her-mi-o-ne! I've read Witch Weekly! The 7 Deadly Signs That He's Not Interested--!" Hermione rubbed her eyes tiredly. Ginny seemed frantic and on the verge of slitting her throat, as she had threatened to do many times before.
" Calm down, Ginny." Hermione sighed. " You have no proof of anything. " Don't let your imagination carry you, as it has before. Wait and see how things go. More importantly—talk to him."
" Talk? Talk?! Well, gee, Herm that seems to be your answer to everything—but what if talking doesn't work? What if it isn't enough? FAT LOT TALKING WILL DO, WHEN THE PROBLEM SEEMS TO BE THAT HE SIMPLY WON'T LISTEN!" Ginny bellowed the last part. Hermione was immediately reminded of a certain scar-headed boy.
" Then I suppose you and he are over." Hermione shrugged helplessly. She was getting too old for this job. When had she applied to be an Agony Aunt?
" Oh, big help you are, Hermione." Ginny huffed, getting up to leave.
A few tears still clung to her lashes.
This continued on for over a week. At sporadic moments throughout the day, Ginny would go to Hermione, not necessarily seeking advice, but to hear what she wanted to hear—that things were not as bad as she made it out to be. The world supply of tissues had decreased significantly due to the woes of this girl.
" This is it." Ginny said breathlessly one night, holding the parchment tightly in her hands. " He's been even more nervous and distant this past week—he's going to break up with me, tonight. That's the reason he wants to see me. I just know it!" Cue fresh peals of tears.
When it finally seemed that Ginny had gotten over her drama queen stage, Hermione was proved wrong.
" I guess I'll have to go." Ginny said mournfully. " But I don't know what I'll do without him. I'll probably go back to being a hermit in my dorm room. Maybe I'll even take up needlepoint."
She walked off with a sag in her shoulders.
The night air was chilly. Ginny wrapped the shawl around her body as tightly as she could. Had she bought a fresh supply of Kleenexes? she wondered. Lord only knew she would need them soon.
" Gin—over here!" Ginny could see the tip of Draco's blonde hair sticking out of the bushes. Taking a deep breath, she strutted over to where he crouched, trying her best to look as dignified as she could.
" Hello, Draco." She said airily, taking a seat on the bench in front of the bushes.
" Quick—bend down next to me! Now!" He shouted frantically, ignoring her cold greeting.
" What the—"
" Do you want to get caught by Filch, then?"
" Oh!" Quick as lightning, Ginny hid next to Draco behind the bushes—and in the nick of time. Sure enough, she could see (and smell—poor guy never seemed to find enough time for a proper bath) Filch and his darned cat prowling the grounds, not five feet away from them. He seemed to be mumbling to himself.
" Well, see, one of these days…I'll catch you all…don't think I'm in the dark, you troublesome kids! I know you're out here partaking in—certain—scandalous—acts!" He sputtered indignantly. A loud meow interrupted his shouts.
" Alright, alright, Mrs. Norris, our next stop will be the kitchen…your dinner, as promised." And with that, he gently picked up his beloved cat and hurried on.
Ginny and Draco both let out bated breaths.
" Well," Draco began, when it seemed that danger was out of sight. Ginny tugged at her collar nervously.
" Yep." She said quietly, trying desperately to fill in the awkward gaps of silence. Draco readjusted himself on the grassy ground, looking at Ginny carefully.
" The reason I wanted to talk to you is because—"
" I know, Draco." Ginny interrupted. " I know." First surprise, then anger flashed through Draco's face.
" How? Who told you? Because I swear, if it was Crabbe who told you I'll beat him into a bloody pulp." He demanded. Ginny shrugged, feeling her throat close up. He was not denying it, then.
" I guessed." Draco snorted.
" Bloody good guess, then." When Ginny was silent, Draco pressed on.
" Well?" He asked hesitantly.
" Well what?"
" What do you say to that, Gin?" Ginny quickly looked down at her skirt, wringing her hands together nervously. If she looked at him now, she knew she would start crying.
" If that's the way you really feel, I guess I have no choice…" A look of disbelief crossed his face.
" What? What do you mean, if that's the way I really feel?" Ginny blinked, then shrugged again.
" You mean you don't want to…?" Draco asked, horrified. Ginny rolled her eyes.
" Of course I don't, you dimwit!" She snapped suddenly. Gods, he was so thick. What made him think she would actually want to break up with him? Did he think that she had agreed to be his girlfriend, just for kicks?
" I see." Came Draco's disheartened voice. After a moment of awkward silence in which only the crickets chirped happily, he spoke again. " I'm not going to force you into anything, Ginny. But--" He carefully reached over to take her hand. This was it, Ginny thought.
" I just thought that maybe, since I would be graduating in a few weeks, that we could start talking about the chance of a future together…" He let his words trail off. " But if you're so blatantly against it, then fine. We'll just go our separate ways. I'm okay with that." He pasued. "Well, I'm not—but I guess I will be…in a few centuries…or…eons…."
Ginny sat in silence for a good few minutes, letting Draco's words ring in her head. Then she understood—that she hadn't understood. Holy cheese crackers.
" Oh my God, I've been so stupid!" She cried out loud, suddenly flinging her arms around the blonde boy. Startled, Draco fell backwards.
" Bloody hell." Draco cursed, watching wet tears drip down her eyes. " Why are you crying now?"
" Because I've been so stupid!" She repeated, pounding her fists into his chest. Draco winced, having the wind knocked out of him for a second or two.
" A-and, why have you been stupid?"
" I thought…I thought you were going to tell me you didn't love me anymore!" As soon as he heard those words, Draco burst out laughing.
" You're right," He wheezed. " That is stupid, Weasley. Absolutely ridiculous!" Another punch in the stomach silenced him immediately. Ginny carefully climbed off of him.
" You were acting awfully strange, though. I'm not sure you've heard two words I've said for the past few weeks. And you've been awfully pale." Ginny mused to herself, as if trying to puzzle out the mystery. As if on cue, Draco immediately paled at her words.
" Well, um, there's a good reason for that too." He said meekly. Ginny waited expectantly.
" Oh?" She said. " Care to tell me?" Draco considered this seriously.
" Actually, that's okay, I could just tell you tomorrow…"
" Ow. Okay, okay!"
Sighing, Draco got off of the floor and sat upright on the ground. He mumbled something under his breath, something that sounded like, " Been nervous about this all month…"
" Ginny Weasley," He began with a slightly trembling voice. Ginny arched an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. What could possibly be the reason for his acting strange? I mean, Draco Malfoy—nervous? What had the world come to?
The night air seemed to still as his too-gray eyes looked into hers.
" I want to make babies with you."
First, she frowned. What kind of reason was that? What did it mean, I want to make babies with her…he had been nervous all week because he wanted sex…?
Gasping in revelation (why was she always so late on the uptake?) Ginny's eyes bugged out as her hand flew to her heart. Biting her lips so she would not sob, she managed to grin shakily at him.
" You mean…" She trailed off, as he shook his head.
" What I really mean, though—" He quickly amended, a smirk of his own gracing his face. " Is that when we are married, we'll have lots of pretty, blonde and red haired babies. We'll have ten of them, if you want. Don't worry though, we'll get a house big enough to fit all of them in. So you must promise me that next year, when I'm gone from this school, you won't go gallivanting off with some fellow—for the sake of our children, please." He was grinning from ear to ear.
It was at this point that Ginny finally managed to answer him.
" Oh, you arrogant prick." She laughed, wrapping her arms around him. " You could have just asked me to marry you, like most normal people do."
Draco seemed to ponder this, as if the idea had never flitted through his mind.
" Interesting concept. Alright, I'll give it a try." His lips were centimeters from hers. His eyes were the exact color of silver mercury, melting everything inside of her. In Ginny's mind, this was the epitome of a perfect night.
" Marry me?" He whispered.
Only her kisses answered him.
Three years after Draco's rather unorthodox proposal, and finally, we're married and bound together by law.Isn't that a rather scary thought?
Ron's been apoplectic ever since he remembered what usually happened on wedding nights…Ha! Does he actually think we've never done that before? I get the odd impression that he thinks me a nun, and Draco, a man with morals. Poor, naïve brother of mine. Mother says I'll drive him to an early death.
The wedding was wonderful. Heaps of people came, and we even managed to have a Persephone and Hades theme to it. Ha-ha. Draco looked good enough to eat, but all I got was a quick peck when we said, ' I do.'
It's just so surreal, being married to Draco Malfoy of all people. Could it be truly possible to be in love with someone like this? It all seems too good to be true, as if it will all be whisked away from me in a single instance. Just like all those times I would dream about marrying Harry Potter when I was a little girl, only to find my mother cruelly smacking me with a pillow in attempt to awake me.
As for you, diary—I guess I should really be thanking you. Where would I be in life if you hadn't arrived around Chistmastime that one special year? Without my hunk of love, that's where.
Also--I suppose I should thank you for curing me of diary-phobia, proving to me that some diaries really are all right. You've done good for a collection of paper bound together by string and magic.
For now, I guess you'll be safely tucked away in the drawer with the photo albums, until someday, when I feel like laughing at my own stupidity and want to remember a time when I was, to be quite frank—lost.
Ahem—must go now.
Draco insists that he means to keep the promise he made about 'wanting to have ten children running amok'. ; -)
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::does the ' My Gosh, I actually finished a fic!' dance::
Once again, THANK YOU to everyone who has reviewed this fic…it gave me the incentive to drag my arse to the computer to finish it.