♥ "Notes on Falling Out of Love" for embe11ished 2/3 ♥
Title: Notes on Falling Out of Love 2/3
Rating: Not Naughty
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: Warnings for language, but nothing else. Spoilers galore for Deathly Hallows and stuff about the characters that J.K. Rowling discusses in press conferences, etc. (that isn’t mentioned in the books).
Summary (if fic): It's hard to learn how to live without that one person you thought would be in your life forever. But Ginny Weasley had always been a quick study, and there are always certain grey-eyed boys to help speed up the learning process...
( Notes on Falling Out of Love 1/3 )
Notes on Falling Out of Love cont...
Dance. Jump in puddles.
A crack of lightning flashed across the deep gray sky, briefly illuminating the dark, billowing clouds and one Ginny Weasley hurrying across the Hogwarts grounds, sweater pulled tight around her thin frame against the whistling wind. She had been up at the school visiting Neville, who had just begun his first year as an official Hogwarts professor. They had spent the afternoon laughing and catching up- Neville had gathered quite a bit of dirt on his fellow co-workers, which Ginny was always willing to listen to- but now she was worried that she had left too late to reach home before the impending storm overtook her.
There came another flash of lightning overhead, this time followed by the ominous rumbling of approaching thunder. Ginny blinked, sure that she had seen wrong but- no, with another flash of lightning she was sure. Not ten feet ahead of her was a figure swathed in a black cloak, pale blonde head bowed against the strong April wind. Malfoy? What in the world was he doing here?
The next second she heard her voice calling out, as if by its own volition. “Malfoy! Hey, wait up!”
The figure ahead hesitated a little and then turned around, motionless as he watched her run towards him. Ginny noticed as she got closer that his eyes were the exact same color as the rolling clouds overhead.
Finally she caught up, panting slightly. “Hey. What were you doing over at Hogwarts?”
He shrugged, eyes dark and cold. “What’s it to you?”
Ginny felt that a thread of simmering anger pulse through her. “Oh, sorry for trying to maintain polite conversation, Malfoy,” she snapped, annoyed.
A strong gust of wind blew against them, whipping her fiery hair across her face. Draco regarded the blazing eyes in front of him for a moment before answering, slowly. “They wanted me to talk to Slughorn about some shady character that he knew once upon a time. Supposedly another one of his former Slytherins has been causing some mayhem over in France or Italy or Merlin knows where.” His features were carefully arranged in an expression of indifference.
“Oh,” she replied, her sudden anger melting away as rapidly as it at risen.
Another crack of thunder sounded overhead, causing the pair to look up. The wind was really picking up now, twisting Ginny’s scarlet curls in circles around her head. She pulled it back, annoyed, and held in place with her hand. “This no Apparating on school grounds is really starting to annoy me. You’d think they’d get rid of it by now.”
Malfoy shrugged again, pale skin practically glowing in the dim light. “Who knows.” He paused, looking back up at the threatening storm clouds billowing overhead. “We better get going, before it starts to-”
A sharp crack of thunder sounded as the skies opened and a flood of raindrops descended down upon the earth.
“…pour.”
Malfoy looked extremely disgruntled in the downpour, wrinkling his nose as he pushed his sopping hair out of his face. Ginny giggled. He blinked furiously, trying to get the water out of his eyes.
“Come on, it’s just a little water. What’s wrong with getting wet once in a while?” She spread hands out- arms as wide as the smile on her face- and began spinning in the downpour, relishing the feeling of the raindrops in her skin.
Malfoy snorted and crossed his arms, watching the ecstatic red head in front of him frolicking in the rain. “Are you drunk again?”
“What, the only time I’m allowed to act happy is when I’m drunk?”
“Well, you weren’t exactly happy that time you got drunk. But it seems like no reasonable person would be enjoying getting soaked out in the rain.”
“Malfoy,” she called back, hoping he could hear her over the raindrops and thunder. “Since when have I been reasonable?”
Draco nodded. “You make a good point Weasley.” He was quiet for a moment, staring across the grounds as Ginny danced circles around him.
She laughed out loud for no reason at all. It had been ages since she’d done something this childish and immature and fun. When they were all still little and living at the Burrow, she and her brothers would scamper outside as soon as the raindrops hit the ground and spend hours running around and making mud puddles and shoving grimy bits of grass and dirt in each others faces. It’s funny how she’d forgotten about that until now.
She glanced over at Malfoy as she skipped past him, splashing mud onto his immaculately pressed trousers. Oops. Maybe he wouldn’t notice until he got home. His childhood had probably been comprised of sitting at a desk and learning Latin while his father plotted how to be slimiest git ever in the world. She doubted he had ever jumped in a huge puddle or played in the rain. For some reason, that thought filled her with an overwhelming sadness and she stopped spinning, eyes fixed on the man in front of her.
“What?” he said, noticing her and scowling.
An idea suddenly popped into her head and Ginny hesitated, wondering if it would be wise to- Oh, what the hell. “Come on Malfoy, dance with me!” She ran back towards him and grabbed his hands, pulling him out of his disgruntled stance. “It’s exhilarating!”
“I do not dance, Weasley,” he sneered, trying to pull away.
“Oh bollocks. Everyone dances!” She tugged at him, stronger, forcing his feet to stumble across each other as they began to spin.
“Weasley what are you- stop it - Dammit Weasley, after this I’m getting a retraining order from you. If you do not cease this ridiculous behavior right now I will be forced to-”
But whatever bodily harm Draco had planned to perform on Ginny Weasley, the world will never know, because at that exact moment Draco tripped and spilled onto the muddy ground, pulling down a laughing Ginny next to him.
“Blarghhhh,” he said intelligently, spitting bits of dirt encrusted grass out of his mouth. “Are you telling me you’re actually enjoying this?”
“Yes,” answered Ginny, reaching over and rubbing a handful of mud into his face. “I am enjoying this very much.”
Well of course the only appropriate response to this would be to pick Weasley up and drop her in the biggest mud puddle he could find, and Draco Malfoy was never one to ignore proper protocol.
________________________________________
Later, Draco Malfoy sat in Ginny Weasley’s kitchen, wrapped in a warm blanket and sipping a mug of hot tea. He swiped as his running nose, grimacing slightly. “I’m probably going to contract pneumonia and die now.”
Ginny walked out of the bathroom, rubbing her rusty hair with a faded pink towel. “If you do, can I have your Nimbus?”
He snorted. “Your concern touches my heart, Weasley.”
After the two of them had thoroughly encased themselves in an inch thick coat of mud and slime, Ginny had insisted that Draco come back with her to her apartment and clean up. He had thought about refusing, but at the sight of the witch in front him- hair hanging straggly in front of her eyes, a swipe of mud spread across her left cheekbone, grinning at him like no other (there was even mud on her teeth) - the refusal had died in his throat and he slumped his shoulders in resignation.
They drifted across the sodden ground, an easy silence between them. As they trudged up the massive hill that lead from Hogwarts grounds into the village, Ginny glanced over at Draco beside her and wondered what exactly was going on here. She opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it again, turning her head away. This damned hill, she said to herself in order to divert her dangerous thoughts, her breathing shorter than usual. The sweat on her brow mingled with the mud and rainwater on her face.
The pair didn’t say much as they strolled through the streets of Hogsmeade in the rain. The looks they attracted was enough to make anyone uncomfortable, but neither one noticed, as they were both too intent on making a point to jump in every single puddle that they saw.
“Why’d you even invite me back here, Weasley?” Draco asked, when Ginny had poured herself a cup of tea and settled herself at the kitchen table, feet propped up comfortably on the chair next to Draco.
Ginny looked at him, surprised. “I don’t know. It’s what friends do, I suppose.”
Draco didn’t look up at her, instead studying the soaked tea leaves at the bottom of his light blue mug. “And,” he said slowly, choosing his words carefully, “You would consider us friends?”
She looked taken aback a bit, but then she smiled at him, and he felt as if the room had brightened, just a little. “Of course I do. In fact, I think you and I are becoming very good friends, Draco.”
________________________________________
Count the stars.
“Seventy-eight… seventy-nine… eighty…”
“You skipped one.”
“What?”
“That star, there. You forgot to count that one.”
“How the hell can you tell which bloody star I’m pointing at, Malfoy?”
“I told you Weasley. I’m a Malfoy- I know everything.”
“Really. Well guess what, Draco? You’re an idiot.”
“I’m amazed- your mother raised such a nice, respectable and gracious young lady.”
“Well I’ll tell Ron you sent him the compliment.”
“You know what? Here. I’ll show you where you messed up. So, you were there.”
“Yes.”
“And that was seventy-eight.”
“Yes.”
“And that was seventy-nine.”
“Your point, Malfoy, my hair is turning gray.”
“And then you skipped that one and said the next one was eighty.”
“I did not, you dolt, I- oh. Dammit.”
“Malfoys are never wrong Weasley. You should know that by now.”
“Shut it. You input is not wanted.”
“But needed.”
“Oh please. Go find the tallest cliff you can and jump off it.”
“Your wish is my command, my dear. Would you like me to leave now and begin searching? Or would you rather I waste some more time in your enthralling presence first?”
“I don’t even see how you can get about daily, walking around with your nose way up in the air like that-”
“Oh but Weasley, I have my humongous ego holding it down.”
“-but I suppose with your humongous ego weighing- wait, what did you say?”
“What, did you forget how to hear as well as count?”
“How did you know what I was about to say?”
“You’ve been insulting me ever since you were eleven years old, I know all your extremely predictable insults by now.”
“That is just plain scary. We know each other too well.”
“It is a tad disturbing, yes. I never knew what it was like to think like an imbecile.”
“…I hate you.”
“You mean love.”
“No, definitely mean hate.”
“Weasley. You wound me.”
“Good, I was trying to. And now look, you and your insipid comments made me lose my place.”
“Well, what kind of inane moron would want to count all the stars in the sky?”
“The inane moron who happens to be your only friend and who you agreed to help.”
“I only agreed to help out of pity. Us Malfoys were taught to humor the pathetic.”
“Whatever you say Babbitty Rabbitty.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Okay. Babbitty Rabitty.”
“I never did understand why you insist on calling me that nonsense name.”
“Because you look like a Babbitty Rabbitty- old and wrinkly and kind of ugly too.”
“…Maybe if I drown you in a lake, you’ll stop talking.”
“I’d take you down with me. And then the world will be a much better place.”
“I can’t believe I’m choosing to spend my time in the company of idiots.”
“Not a company, just one. And this idiot baked you cookies, which, by the way, you have been shoving into your mouth all night like your life depended on it. And you promised you would help me. Now zip it and count.”
“…”
“Malfoy?”
“One…two…three…”
________________________________________
Bake cookies.
Draco Malfoy winced at the sound of a couple clangs and then a loud crash coming from his kitchen. He made a valiant attempt to get up, but he had been wrapped in so many blankets and comforters that this was proving to be quite difficult. Giving up, he slumped dejectedly into the pillows and instead called into the kitchen.
“Weasley, you do not have to do this.”
Ginny glared at the sniffling boy laying the green futon, a massively ugly pillow lying across his feet. “Yes, I do Draco. You’re sick, in no condition to do anything but sit there and be sick, and I want to this.” Outside, the sounds of shouts and laughter drifted through the open window as the trick-or-treaters frequented from house to house, begging for candy and chattering with their friends.
Draco began to retort, but was interrupted by a massive sneeze and several pints of snot shooting out his nose. "Well that was lovely,” Ginny remarked, turning back to the stove where a pot of Mrs. Weasley’s best stew was simmering.
He blew his nose with a loud honking sound. “Weasley, you suck.” Ginny raised an eyebrow. Draco glared at her. “No, I will not be grateful to you. You’re holding me hostage.”
Ginny snorted but said nothing. She reached up and began opening random cupboards, searching for a bowl. Finding a bright orange one with mint colored vines encircling the edge, she pulled out a ladle and began spooning the steaming stew into Malfoy’s bowl.
“Here,” she clucked in an almost Molly-way, handing the bowl to Draco. “Shut up and eat. Oh, and it’s hot, be careful.”
There came a knock on the front door and a chorus of “Trick-or-Treat!”s from the other side.
“I’ll get that,” she said cheerily, grabbing the near empty bowl of sweets and distributing the rest of the brightly wrapped candy into outstretched hands.
“Thanks lady!” said some of the older kids, waving at her and then scurrying off. She squinted after them. There were the usual costumes of Quidditch players and banshees and…She peered at one of the dark haired children who had drawn a lightning bolt on his forehead with some black ink. Great. Now he was a Halloween costume too. Her insides twisted around, just a little.
“Thank you,” came a shy little voice, startling Ginny from her thoughts. She smiled down at the forlorn little boy remaining on the doorstep, his tin helmet- which was too large for him- flopping about comically around his head.
“Oh, no problem, honey,” replied Ginny, giving him a pat on the head. “And who are you supposed to be?”
“Sir Luckless,” he answered, voice barely above a whisper.
“Well Sir Luckless, I wish you a very Happy Halloween.”
He stared at her, wide eyed for a moment, before rushing off to his parents who were waiting for him by the side walk. “Mum! Dad!” Ginny heard him shout excitedly as she turned away from the door, “That was Ginny Weasley from the Harpies!”
She shook her head and looked down at the empty bowl as she closed the door. “Well, it looks like they cleaned us out.”
“Little greedy brats,” grumbled Draco, practically inhaling his food. “Don’t give out anything else.” He sneezed again.
“Draco!” Ginny admonished, “It’s Halloween! It’s impossible not hand out treats on Halloween, even for a miserable old miser like you.” Her eyes swept across the kitchen cupboard, looking for sweets. “How in the world can you be filthy rich and not have anymore candy?”
“Ate it all.”
Ginny rolled her eyes. Of course. Sighing, she began to pull out flour and sugar along with a carton full of chocolate chips. “Fine,” she snapped, reaching for the eggs, “I’ll make cookies.”
________________________________________
Catch snowflakes on your tongue.
Ginny sprawled out on her stomach in front of the fireplace, book lying open and forgotten next to her as she stared into the flames. After a lifetime of using the Floo, seeing a fireplace used for actual warmth and relaxation seemed as foreign to her as drinking water from the toilet.
“Ginny honey, are you sure you don’t want more marshmallows in your hot chocolate?”
Tearing her eyes from the flames, Ginny gave the woman hovering over her a small smile. “No, Mrs. Granger, I’m fine, really.”
Hermione’s aging mother looked down on her red headed daughter-in-law with a stern eye. “And how many times have I asked you to call me Eloise?”
“Not enough, Mrs. Granger.” Ginny grinned. “It’s just seems so strange to call you Eloise after so many years of calling you Mrs. Granger while we were in school.”
Eloise sighed. “Understandable.” She turned around at the sound of bickering voice coming from the kitchen. “I suppose I should go break those two up. Honestly, they argue more now than they did before they were married.”
Ginny turned back to the fire, grinning at the sound of Ron’s frustrated voice (“Hermione! Stop nagging!”) Finally, someone else to annoy her brother night and day. He never did catch a break.
The fire in front of her hissed, gold flames curling around the glowing logs. Ginny slid closer to the fire, soaking in the warmth.
“Hey Gin,” grumbled Ron, stumbling into the room. He glanced back at the kitchen, where Hermione and her mother were happily chattering away as they made dinner. “I’ve been banished from the kitchen.”
Ginny made room for her older brother beside the fireplace. “What’d you do this time?”
Ron rolled his eyes. “Who knows? Hermione insisted that I was peeling the potatoes wrong, just because some of the skin got on the floor- what an old hag.”
“I can hear you from the kitchen, Ron!”
“WHAT AN OLD HAG, BUT I LOVE HER VERY VERY MUCH!” Ron called into the kitchen hastily. Ginny giggled.
“Well, I’m just glad you came in here, Ron,” she said, smiling happily at her big brother. “I haven’t seen you very much lately.” Ginny blinked and noticed Ron eyeing her hot chocolate. “Here,” she sighed resignedly, “you want some?”
“Thanks.” Ron grinned, taking a huge gulp. He wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve. “Yeah, we haven’t seen each other lately. In fact-” his face got serious- “it seems that you’ve been seeing a lot more of my partner than you have me.”
“Oh that,” Ginny waved an impatient hand. “Don’t worry about that Ron, we’re just friends.”
“Friends? Why do you need more friends? What about Hermione and Luna and me?” Ron pouted.
“Don’t do that you look like you’re five.” Ginny grabbed her mug back. Empty. “Well you and Hermione are all busy moving into the new house and Luna’s off in, I don’t know, Scandinavia or something, looking for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, and the rest of the family has their own business to attend to. It’s nice to have someone to spend time with, once in a while.”
“Once in a while? Do you want to know the number of times I’ve asked him how his night was and he’s smirked and said ‘Oh mind blowing, I spent it with your sister’?”
“Well I am a very mind blowing person, Ronald, you can’t deny that.”
He glared at her. She rolled her eyes and patted him on the shoulder.
“Just friends, ickle Ronnikins. If we ever start shagging, then you have my permission to be the first one to attempt to strangle him, ok?”
Ron eyed his baby sister carefully. “Can I have that in writing?”
Ginny rolled her eyes again and leaned back, grabbing the bag of candy that rested there. “Here, eat some chocolate, that’ll shut you up.”
Ron looked like he wanted to continue arguing but kept quiet as she opened the package. “So what’s up with you lately anyway?” asked Ginny, passing some of the chocolates to him. “Aww, that’s cute. Look Ron, the candy’s shaped like snowflakes.”
“Who cares? It’s chocolate and that’s all matters,” he said, taking the bag from her. “Not much really. Mckinley has me and Malfoy on this huge case so we’ve been following suspects all week. Oh, remind me to ask Harry for his Invisibility Cloak- I need it for tomorrow night.”
“Having a Deathly Hallow must be pretty useful when you’re catching criminals and all of that, right?” she said, smiling and trying hard to ignore the mention of Harry’s name.
Ron shrugged. “It has its uses.” He grinned suddenly, taking the bag of candy from her and leaning back. “Here, catch.”
Ginny opened her mouth and Ron threw the chocolate at her, trying to shoot it in her mouth.
“Ow Ron, that was my nose! No wonder you can never play Chaser.”
“Ron, stop mauling your sister and help me set the table.” The two of them looked up and saw Hermione framed in the doorway, a stack of napkins and utensils in hand.
“Yes Mrs. Weasley,” smirked Ron, obediently getting to his feet. He planted a sloppy kiss on her cheek as he whisked away the napkins from her hand.
Whipped, went the little voice inside Ginny’s head. She grinned and tossed another snowflake-shaped candy into the air, leaning back slightly to catch it in her mouth.
( Notes on Falling Out of Love 3/3 )
ORIGINAL REQUEST:
What would you like to receive?
The tone/mood of the fic: Light, humorous, and romantic, but not without tension of some sort.
An element/line of dialogue/object you would like in your fic: A reference to one of the fairytales in "The Tales of Beedle the Bard" in a situation totally unrelated to children.
Preferred rating of the the fic you want: Any
Canon or AU? I'd like a fic that is mostly compliant with canon, but feel free to ignore the epilogue.
Deal Breakers (what don't you want?): An unhappy ending.
Rating: Not Naughty
Possible Spoilers/Warnings: Warnings for language, but nothing else. Spoilers galore for Deathly Hallows and stuff about the characters that J.K. Rowling discusses in press conferences, etc. (that isn’t mentioned in the books).
Summary (if fic): It's hard to learn how to live without that one person you thought would be in your life forever. But Ginny Weasley had always been a quick study, and there are always certain grey-eyed boys to help speed up the learning process...
( Notes on Falling Out of Love 1/3 )
Notes on Falling Out of Love cont...
Dance. Jump in puddles.
A crack of lightning flashed across the deep gray sky, briefly illuminating the dark, billowing clouds and one Ginny Weasley hurrying across the Hogwarts grounds, sweater pulled tight around her thin frame against the whistling wind. She had been up at the school visiting Neville, who had just begun his first year as an official Hogwarts professor. They had spent the afternoon laughing and catching up- Neville had gathered quite a bit of dirt on his fellow co-workers, which Ginny was always willing to listen to- but now she was worried that she had left too late to reach home before the impending storm overtook her.
There came another flash of lightning overhead, this time followed by the ominous rumbling of approaching thunder. Ginny blinked, sure that she had seen wrong but- no, with another flash of lightning she was sure. Not ten feet ahead of her was a figure swathed in a black cloak, pale blonde head bowed against the strong April wind. Malfoy? What in the world was he doing here?
The next second she heard her voice calling out, as if by its own volition. “Malfoy! Hey, wait up!”
The figure ahead hesitated a little and then turned around, motionless as he watched her run towards him. Ginny noticed as she got closer that his eyes were the exact same color as the rolling clouds overhead.
Finally she caught up, panting slightly. “Hey. What were you doing over at Hogwarts?”
He shrugged, eyes dark and cold. “What’s it to you?”
Ginny felt that a thread of simmering anger pulse through her. “Oh, sorry for trying to maintain polite conversation, Malfoy,” she snapped, annoyed.
A strong gust of wind blew against them, whipping her fiery hair across her face. Draco regarded the blazing eyes in front of him for a moment before answering, slowly. “They wanted me to talk to Slughorn about some shady character that he knew once upon a time. Supposedly another one of his former Slytherins has been causing some mayhem over in France or Italy or Merlin knows where.” His features were carefully arranged in an expression of indifference.
“Oh,” she replied, her sudden anger melting away as rapidly as it at risen.
Another crack of thunder sounded overhead, causing the pair to look up. The wind was really picking up now, twisting Ginny’s scarlet curls in circles around her head. She pulled it back, annoyed, and held in place with her hand. “This no Apparating on school grounds is really starting to annoy me. You’d think they’d get rid of it by now.”
Malfoy shrugged again, pale skin practically glowing in the dim light. “Who knows.” He paused, looking back up at the threatening storm clouds billowing overhead. “We better get going, before it starts to-”
A sharp crack of thunder sounded as the skies opened and a flood of raindrops descended down upon the earth.
“…pour.”
Malfoy looked extremely disgruntled in the downpour, wrinkling his nose as he pushed his sopping hair out of his face. Ginny giggled. He blinked furiously, trying to get the water out of his eyes.
“Come on, it’s just a little water. What’s wrong with getting wet once in a while?” She spread hands out- arms as wide as the smile on her face- and began spinning in the downpour, relishing the feeling of the raindrops in her skin.
Malfoy snorted and crossed his arms, watching the ecstatic red head in front of him frolicking in the rain. “Are you drunk again?”
“What, the only time I’m allowed to act happy is when I’m drunk?”
“Well, you weren’t exactly happy that time you got drunk. But it seems like no reasonable person would be enjoying getting soaked out in the rain.”
“Malfoy,” she called back, hoping he could hear her over the raindrops and thunder. “Since when have I been reasonable?”
Draco nodded. “You make a good point Weasley.” He was quiet for a moment, staring across the grounds as Ginny danced circles around him.
She laughed out loud for no reason at all. It had been ages since she’d done something this childish and immature and fun. When they were all still little and living at the Burrow, she and her brothers would scamper outside as soon as the raindrops hit the ground and spend hours running around and making mud puddles and shoving grimy bits of grass and dirt in each others faces. It’s funny how she’d forgotten about that until now.
She glanced over at Malfoy as she skipped past him, splashing mud onto his immaculately pressed trousers. Oops. Maybe he wouldn’t notice until he got home. His childhood had probably been comprised of sitting at a desk and learning Latin while his father plotted how to be slimiest git ever in the world. She doubted he had ever jumped in a huge puddle or played in the rain. For some reason, that thought filled her with an overwhelming sadness and she stopped spinning, eyes fixed on the man in front of her.
“What?” he said, noticing her and scowling.
An idea suddenly popped into her head and Ginny hesitated, wondering if it would be wise to- Oh, what the hell. “Come on Malfoy, dance with me!” She ran back towards him and grabbed his hands, pulling him out of his disgruntled stance. “It’s exhilarating!”
“I do not dance, Weasley,” he sneered, trying to pull away.
“Oh bollocks. Everyone dances!” She tugged at him, stronger, forcing his feet to stumble across each other as they began to spin.
“Weasley what are you- stop it - Dammit Weasley, after this I’m getting a retraining order from you. If you do not cease this ridiculous behavior right now I will be forced to-”
But whatever bodily harm Draco had planned to perform on Ginny Weasley, the world will never know, because at that exact moment Draco tripped and spilled onto the muddy ground, pulling down a laughing Ginny next to him.
“Blarghhhh,” he said intelligently, spitting bits of dirt encrusted grass out of his mouth. “Are you telling me you’re actually enjoying this?”
“Yes,” answered Ginny, reaching over and rubbing a handful of mud into his face. “I am enjoying this very much.”
Well of course the only appropriate response to this would be to pick Weasley up and drop her in the biggest mud puddle he could find, and Draco Malfoy was never one to ignore proper protocol.
________________________________________
Later, Draco Malfoy sat in Ginny Weasley’s kitchen, wrapped in a warm blanket and sipping a mug of hot tea. He swiped as his running nose, grimacing slightly. “I’m probably going to contract pneumonia and die now.”
Ginny walked out of the bathroom, rubbing her rusty hair with a faded pink towel. “If you do, can I have your Nimbus?”
He snorted. “Your concern touches my heart, Weasley.”
After the two of them had thoroughly encased themselves in an inch thick coat of mud and slime, Ginny had insisted that Draco come back with her to her apartment and clean up. He had thought about refusing, but at the sight of the witch in front him- hair hanging straggly in front of her eyes, a swipe of mud spread across her left cheekbone, grinning at him like no other (there was even mud on her teeth) - the refusal had died in his throat and he slumped his shoulders in resignation.
They drifted across the sodden ground, an easy silence between them. As they trudged up the massive hill that lead from Hogwarts grounds into the village, Ginny glanced over at Draco beside her and wondered what exactly was going on here. She opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it again, turning her head away. This damned hill, she said to herself in order to divert her dangerous thoughts, her breathing shorter than usual. The sweat on her brow mingled with the mud and rainwater on her face.
The pair didn’t say much as they strolled through the streets of Hogsmeade in the rain. The looks they attracted was enough to make anyone uncomfortable, but neither one noticed, as they were both too intent on making a point to jump in every single puddle that they saw.
“Why’d you even invite me back here, Weasley?” Draco asked, when Ginny had poured herself a cup of tea and settled herself at the kitchen table, feet propped up comfortably on the chair next to Draco.
Ginny looked at him, surprised. “I don’t know. It’s what friends do, I suppose.”
Draco didn’t look up at her, instead studying the soaked tea leaves at the bottom of his light blue mug. “And,” he said slowly, choosing his words carefully, “You would consider us friends?”
She looked taken aback a bit, but then she smiled at him, and he felt as if the room had brightened, just a little. “Of course I do. In fact, I think you and I are becoming very good friends, Draco.”
________________________________________
Count the stars.
“Seventy-eight… seventy-nine… eighty…”
“You skipped one.”
“What?”
“That star, there. You forgot to count that one.”
“How the hell can you tell which bloody star I’m pointing at, Malfoy?”
“I told you Weasley. I’m a Malfoy- I know everything.”
“Really. Well guess what, Draco? You’re an idiot.”
“I’m amazed- your mother raised such a nice, respectable and gracious young lady.”
“Well I’ll tell Ron you sent him the compliment.”
“You know what? Here. I’ll show you where you messed up. So, you were there.”
“Yes.”
“And that was seventy-eight.”
“Yes.”
“And that was seventy-nine.”
“Your point, Malfoy, my hair is turning gray.”
“And then you skipped that one and said the next one was eighty.”
“I did not, you dolt, I- oh. Dammit.”
“Malfoys are never wrong Weasley. You should know that by now.”
“Shut it. You input is not wanted.”
“But needed.”
“Oh please. Go find the tallest cliff you can and jump off it.”
“Your wish is my command, my dear. Would you like me to leave now and begin searching? Or would you rather I waste some more time in your enthralling presence first?”
“I don’t even see how you can get about daily, walking around with your nose way up in the air like that-”
“Oh but Weasley, I have my humongous ego holding it down.”
“-but I suppose with your humongous ego weighing- wait, what did you say?”
“What, did you forget how to hear as well as count?”
“How did you know what I was about to say?”
“You’ve been insulting me ever since you were eleven years old, I know all your extremely predictable insults by now.”
“That is just plain scary. We know each other too well.”
“It is a tad disturbing, yes. I never knew what it was like to think like an imbecile.”
“…I hate you.”
“You mean love.”
“No, definitely mean hate.”
“Weasley. You wound me.”
“Good, I was trying to. And now look, you and your insipid comments made me lose my place.”
“Well, what kind of inane moron would want to count all the stars in the sky?”
“The inane moron who happens to be your only friend and who you agreed to help.”
“I only agreed to help out of pity. Us Malfoys were taught to humor the pathetic.”
“Whatever you say Babbitty Rabbitty.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Okay. Babbitty Rabitty.”
“I never did understand why you insist on calling me that nonsense name.”
“Because you look like a Babbitty Rabbitty- old and wrinkly and kind of ugly too.”
“…Maybe if I drown you in a lake, you’ll stop talking.”
“I’d take you down with me. And then the world will be a much better place.”
“I can’t believe I’m choosing to spend my time in the company of idiots.”
“Not a company, just one. And this idiot baked you cookies, which, by the way, you have been shoving into your mouth all night like your life depended on it. And you promised you would help me. Now zip it and count.”
“…”
“Malfoy?”
“One…two…three…”
________________________________________
Bake cookies.
Draco Malfoy winced at the sound of a couple clangs and then a loud crash coming from his kitchen. He made a valiant attempt to get up, but he had been wrapped in so many blankets and comforters that this was proving to be quite difficult. Giving up, he slumped dejectedly into the pillows and instead called into the kitchen.
“Weasley, you do not have to do this.”
Ginny glared at the sniffling boy laying the green futon, a massively ugly pillow lying across his feet. “Yes, I do Draco. You’re sick, in no condition to do anything but sit there and be sick, and I want to this.” Outside, the sounds of shouts and laughter drifted through the open window as the trick-or-treaters frequented from house to house, begging for candy and chattering with their friends.
Draco began to retort, but was interrupted by a massive sneeze and several pints of snot shooting out his nose. "Well that was lovely,” Ginny remarked, turning back to the stove where a pot of Mrs. Weasley’s best stew was simmering.
He blew his nose with a loud honking sound. “Weasley, you suck.” Ginny raised an eyebrow. Draco glared at her. “No, I will not be grateful to you. You’re holding me hostage.”
Ginny snorted but said nothing. She reached up and began opening random cupboards, searching for a bowl. Finding a bright orange one with mint colored vines encircling the edge, she pulled out a ladle and began spooning the steaming stew into Malfoy’s bowl.
“Here,” she clucked in an almost Molly-way, handing the bowl to Draco. “Shut up and eat. Oh, and it’s hot, be careful.”
There came a knock on the front door and a chorus of “Trick-or-Treat!”s from the other side.
“I’ll get that,” she said cheerily, grabbing the near empty bowl of sweets and distributing the rest of the brightly wrapped candy into outstretched hands.
“Thanks lady!” said some of the older kids, waving at her and then scurrying off. She squinted after them. There were the usual costumes of Quidditch players and banshees and…She peered at one of the dark haired children who had drawn a lightning bolt on his forehead with some black ink. Great. Now he was a Halloween costume too. Her insides twisted around, just a little.
“Thank you,” came a shy little voice, startling Ginny from her thoughts. She smiled down at the forlorn little boy remaining on the doorstep, his tin helmet- which was too large for him- flopping about comically around his head.
“Oh, no problem, honey,” replied Ginny, giving him a pat on the head. “And who are you supposed to be?”
“Sir Luckless,” he answered, voice barely above a whisper.
“Well Sir Luckless, I wish you a very Happy Halloween.”
He stared at her, wide eyed for a moment, before rushing off to his parents who were waiting for him by the side walk. “Mum! Dad!” Ginny heard him shout excitedly as she turned away from the door, “That was Ginny Weasley from the Harpies!”
She shook her head and looked down at the empty bowl as she closed the door. “Well, it looks like they cleaned us out.”
“Little greedy brats,” grumbled Draco, practically inhaling his food. “Don’t give out anything else.” He sneezed again.
“Draco!” Ginny admonished, “It’s Halloween! It’s impossible not hand out treats on Halloween, even for a miserable old miser like you.” Her eyes swept across the kitchen cupboard, looking for sweets. “How in the world can you be filthy rich and not have anymore candy?”
“Ate it all.”
Ginny rolled her eyes. Of course. Sighing, she began to pull out flour and sugar along with a carton full of chocolate chips. “Fine,” she snapped, reaching for the eggs, “I’ll make cookies.”
________________________________________
Catch snowflakes on your tongue.
Ginny sprawled out on her stomach in front of the fireplace, book lying open and forgotten next to her as she stared into the flames. After a lifetime of using the Floo, seeing a fireplace used for actual warmth and relaxation seemed as foreign to her as drinking water from the toilet.
“Ginny honey, are you sure you don’t want more marshmallows in your hot chocolate?”
Tearing her eyes from the flames, Ginny gave the woman hovering over her a small smile. “No, Mrs. Granger, I’m fine, really.”
Hermione’s aging mother looked down on her red headed daughter-in-law with a stern eye. “And how many times have I asked you to call me Eloise?”
“Not enough, Mrs. Granger.” Ginny grinned. “It’s just seems so strange to call you Eloise after so many years of calling you Mrs. Granger while we were in school.”
Eloise sighed. “Understandable.” She turned around at the sound of bickering voice coming from the kitchen. “I suppose I should go break those two up. Honestly, they argue more now than they did before they were married.”
Ginny turned back to the fire, grinning at the sound of Ron’s frustrated voice (“Hermione! Stop nagging!”) Finally, someone else to annoy her brother night and day. He never did catch a break.
The fire in front of her hissed, gold flames curling around the glowing logs. Ginny slid closer to the fire, soaking in the warmth.
“Hey Gin,” grumbled Ron, stumbling into the room. He glanced back at the kitchen, where Hermione and her mother were happily chattering away as they made dinner. “I’ve been banished from the kitchen.”
Ginny made room for her older brother beside the fireplace. “What’d you do this time?”
Ron rolled his eyes. “Who knows? Hermione insisted that I was peeling the potatoes wrong, just because some of the skin got on the floor- what an old hag.”
“I can hear you from the kitchen, Ron!”
“WHAT AN OLD HAG, BUT I LOVE HER VERY VERY MUCH!” Ron called into the kitchen hastily. Ginny giggled.
“Well, I’m just glad you came in here, Ron,” she said, smiling happily at her big brother. “I haven’t seen you very much lately.” Ginny blinked and noticed Ron eyeing her hot chocolate. “Here,” she sighed resignedly, “you want some?”
“Thanks.” Ron grinned, taking a huge gulp. He wiped his mouth on the back of his sleeve. “Yeah, we haven’t seen each other lately. In fact-” his face got serious- “it seems that you’ve been seeing a lot more of my partner than you have me.”
“Oh that,” Ginny waved an impatient hand. “Don’t worry about that Ron, we’re just friends.”
“Friends? Why do you need more friends? What about Hermione and Luna and me?” Ron pouted.
“Don’t do that you look like you’re five.” Ginny grabbed her mug back. Empty. “Well you and Hermione are all busy moving into the new house and Luna’s off in, I don’t know, Scandinavia or something, looking for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks, and the rest of the family has their own business to attend to. It’s nice to have someone to spend time with, once in a while.”
“Once in a while? Do you want to know the number of times I’ve asked him how his night was and he’s smirked and said ‘Oh mind blowing, I spent it with your sister’?”
“Well I am a very mind blowing person, Ronald, you can’t deny that.”
He glared at her. She rolled her eyes and patted him on the shoulder.
“Just friends, ickle Ronnikins. If we ever start shagging, then you have my permission to be the first one to attempt to strangle him, ok?”
Ron eyed his baby sister carefully. “Can I have that in writing?”
Ginny rolled her eyes again and leaned back, grabbing the bag of candy that rested there. “Here, eat some chocolate, that’ll shut you up.”
Ron looked like he wanted to continue arguing but kept quiet as she opened the package. “So what’s up with you lately anyway?” asked Ginny, passing some of the chocolates to him. “Aww, that’s cute. Look Ron, the candy’s shaped like snowflakes.”
“Who cares? It’s chocolate and that’s all matters,” he said, taking the bag from her. “Not much really. Mckinley has me and Malfoy on this huge case so we’ve been following suspects all week. Oh, remind me to ask Harry for his Invisibility Cloak- I need it for tomorrow night.”
“Having a Deathly Hallow must be pretty useful when you’re catching criminals and all of that, right?” she said, smiling and trying hard to ignore the mention of Harry’s name.
Ron shrugged. “It has its uses.” He grinned suddenly, taking the bag of candy from her and leaning back. “Here, catch.”
Ginny opened her mouth and Ron threw the chocolate at her, trying to shoot it in her mouth.
“Ow Ron, that was my nose! No wonder you can never play Chaser.”
“Ron, stop mauling your sister and help me set the table.” The two of them looked up and saw Hermione framed in the doorway, a stack of napkins and utensils in hand.
“Yes Mrs. Weasley,” smirked Ron, obediently getting to his feet. He planted a sloppy kiss on her cheek as he whisked away the napkins from her hand.
Whipped, went the little voice inside Ginny’s head. She grinned and tossed another snowflake-shaped candy into the air, leaning back slightly to catch it in her mouth.
( Notes on Falling Out of Love 3/3 )
ORIGINAL REQUEST:
What would you like to receive?
The tone/mood of the fic: Light, humorous, and romantic, but not without tension of some sort.
An element/line of dialogue/object you would like in your fic: A reference to one of the fairytales in "The Tales of Beedle the Bard" in a situation totally unrelated to children.
Preferred rating of the the fic you want: Any
Canon or AU? I'd like a fic that is mostly compliant with canon, but feel free to ignore the epilogue.
Deal Breakers (what don't you want?): An unhappy ending.