We'll Need a Clean-Up Crew for Me and You
A HariPo oneshot
Note: The Harry Potter characters belong to J.K. Rowling, not me. A little something fun that I whipped up. ;] Read, review, and enjoy! For Pooja—I hope you don't mind that this is a belated bday pressie! Xo :)
It's only five years after the war. After everything's over, everything's said and done, everyone's moved on. They were told to move on, too. They told each other to move on. They told themselves to move on. But there's no killing the rebel part of Ginny Weasley; it's what makes her a Weasley.
She may be minutes away from being "Mrs. Potter" (if Harry ever gets the courage up to propose), but Ginny still tries to find time to herself. It's not as though life with Harry or the others is the easiest thing in the world. And Ginny knows that every witch can only look after others when she looks after herself.
But this one day, the redhead takes her breather off the beaten path, away from life, away from Ottery St. Catchpole. She's had a fight with Harry and it's high time that she takes a real break from everything. Out here, on this hillside, everything's…perfect. Her mind isn't clouded, she can feel okay for once, and there's no one to chastise her.
"Oh Merlin… Weasley?"
Ginny blinks, her heart speeding up in her chest for the slightest of moments before she glances over her shoulder and sees a tall, willowy blonde whom she has not seen in what feels like forever. Though her instinct is to smile, she frowns and then smirks. It's better that he doesn't see her thoughts displayed in her expressions.
He fidgets behind her—she can hear him shifting on his feet—but he does take a few steps forward and he does stop beside her. Yes, Draco Malfoy sits beside her, not really the same boy—man—from the years of fearful subservience under the Dark Lord. The blonde sighs. "As always…I find you."
The woman stares at the grass past her feet, her gaze continuing further down to the stream that flows through this part of the town. Looking at it, she feels her heart almost floating away with it. Or perhaps her feelings which everyone's come to expect (liking Harry, caring for Harry, loving Harry) are drifting away in the current, numbing her being to the pain of a love that's convenient only for the Boy-Who-Lived. Because beside her is the Boy-Who-Cared. He cared enough to be scared in those days, to not push the buttons of the Carrows…to lie when she and the other D.A. members did something and Alecto was breathing down her neck. He was a warm hand in the icy night; the others all said Draco had turned to stone himself a long time ago, but Ginny figured that his fear had kept him human. And it's all these thoughts coming to the front of her brain that keep her from saying anything now.
Draco sighs again. "This is nowhere near your home."
"…I know," Ginny manages.
"Why did you have to come here?"
He hangs his head and it appears he might stay like that for a while, but that changes when he turns and looks at Ginny and his gray eyes…they've never looked sharper, more unclouded than ever.
This is not the first time that Ginny has seen these eyes and felt so confused. These eyes…these eyes…they've made her wonder so many times if waiting for Harry was such a good idea. They've understood her so much more, they've chided her so much more, they've protected her so much more… One look from them and Ginny doesn't need to hear any words from Draco. She just needs the look.
"A whim," he echoes, his voice carried gently on the breeze that unnerves her as it rustles her hair. He faces the stream, too, and Ginny finds it in herself to breathe again.
"You look healthy," she mumbles lamely. It's not as though she had been expecting to have such a conversation so soon. Or ever.
Draco nods. "I've watched where I step. I'm careful of my friends." He pauses. "I trust few."
Ginny freezes, getting the sudden urge to leave. If she leaves now, nothing will change. If she leaves now, the past can remain the past. If she goes, she doesn't ever have to see or hear him again. Yet she's rooted to the spot.
"How are you?"
The question is a bit of a surprise, and it makes the witch think for a second before answering. "Fine, I s'pose."
He nods. He's not used to being the one to initiate dialogue. "Ginny—"
"Don't," she interrupts, forcing her eyes closed. "Don't start."
He groans. They both know what he wants to say. He wants to bring up the old days, the days when they formed a friendship, the days when the line between good and evil looked blurred and grayed. Perhaps memories, good memories and bad, are playing in his mind's eye just as they're playing in hers.
After several disparaging minutes in silence, Ginny turns to him, eyes pleading and heart bleeding. "Draco, let's just forget we ever bumped into each other toda—"
And just. Like. That. He leans forward, leaning his forehead against hers first before nudging her nose to the side and coercing them to relive the old days as his mouth covers hers. He's swallowing her words and doubts and apprehension as their breaths meld into one, and she feels as though she's cradled by the world as he cradles the back of her neck ever so softly. It's a short kiss, not very deep, but it holds so much meaning…for both of them.
Ginny breaks away and rests her head on his shoulder. It's a shoulder she became so familiar with in a time when no one had the guts to be the strong one for her, who was the strong one. The thought brings tears to her eyes, because in all her short life, Ginny doesn't remember anyone having been there for her, needing her…wanting her.
"I missed you." It's all he needs to say. There's no need for frilly words and mawkish nonsense—this is Draco Malfoy, after all.
So, as easily as he says those words, they're back. Together, of course. It's not as though anyone—least of all Harry—is going to come hunting Ginny down to bring her home. Even if they do, she won't go without a fight. Besides…they should've known they couldn't move on. Five years hasn't changed anything.
Ginny Weasley's a fighter. And if it's for her love, then Draco Malfoy is, too.
:] Sweet. A little angsty, but yay. :D I don't write Drinny often, but this was a lot of fun to write. I hope I did them justice, Pooja—happy birthday, girl!
Reviews are Drinny-kicking-Harry's-butt love! ;D Thanks for reading.