Harry Potter // Prompt 28 - Birth // DracoGinny
Hummm, yes. I finally got off my lazy arse and wrote something. ((PS: the title is really sucky, but I couldn't think up anything else that would go well with the prompt I chose))
Title: The Birth of a Friendship
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Draco Malfoy/Ginny Weasley, Lucius Malfoy, random Weasley family members
Table: Table Four, here
Prompt: 28 - Birth
Word Count: 1,161
Rating: G-PG, somewhere around that range...
Summary: What has the Malfoy heir been missing out on? True love, friendship, and acceptance...until he finds all of those qualities in a small, red-haired girl that reached out to him.
Author's Notes: Thanks to Annie (
meringue_kiss ) for the beta.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does, however.
100situations Prompt 28 - Birth
--
Ever since his birth, he had been shunned.
He remembered crying alone in his expensive nursery, to the old nurse that was kind and sympathetic, but never understood. She gave him hugs and tucked him into bed, but she just didn’t seem to understand what the little Malfoy heir wanted.
Draco didn’t know how to express it. He felt so alone and empty, wandering the halls of the cold mansion he lived in. His parents never talked to him, unless it was absolutely necessary.
Draco had no sisters, no brothers, and no pets. Ever since his birth, he had been pampered, and the materialistic comforts that surrounded him were supposed to make him happy. They did, at first. Draco loved bouncing on his soft gold bed, and playing with all of the most expensive toys his father got him.
But his father never played with him. It was always Draco, sitting by himself in a vast room, playing half-heartedly with the newest toy his father assured him no other little boy had.
Draco always remembered going to Diagon Alley with his father on rare occasions, and staring wistfully at the other children playing with their parents. He remembered the first time, when Draco was five. He saw a whole family of red headed people, shopping right across the street from them. Draco saw that their robes were old, patched, and shabby, but the red heads themselves appeared that they didn’t care. They were all smiling, laughing, and helping each other with bags.
The littlest one, a girl, dropped a bag and fell on the street, but an older brother, by the looks of it, helped her up and another brother took the bag she had dropped. The little girl (who looked only a year or so younger than Draco) started crying into her older brother’s arms, but the brother comforted her until the little girl was smiling again.
While Draco’s father talked to the storeowner inside, Draco silently stood outside of the store, watching the clouds. Why didn’t Draco get this feeling of warmth and comfort he saw other children experience? What was he missing out on?
As Draco stood and brooded, the smiling girl from before walked up to him. Her smaller hand on his alerted him to her presence, and he looked up into the widely grin of a small, freckled-face with red hair pulled back into two pigtails.
“Hello,” she said. “Would you like to play?” She indicated to the game she had been playing with three of her older brothers.
Draco didn’t know what to say. But he told himself that just one game with other children couldn’t hurt. Maybe that was what he had been missing out on.
Just as he opened his mouth to accept, his father strode out of the store in a whirl of black and green robes. “Come on, Draco, we’re leaving,” his father said brusquely and abruptly walked off in the other direction.
“I-I have to go,” Draco mumbled, noticing how the girl had shrank back against the wall when his father appeared.
The girl nodded, and looked up shyly. “I hope I’ll see you again…Draco,” she murmured before running back to her brothers.
Draco stood, dazed, before turning and catching up to his father.
--
Ever since his birth, Draco had been taught that whatever his father said, it was the law. And after the day when Draco met the red haired girl, his father had decreed that Draco was not to associate with any other children other than purebloods.
Draco’s heart sank. He had hoped that his father didn’t notice the small girl and that Draco might get a chance to talk to her again.
“What about that girl from yesterday?” he protested. “Was she a pureblood?”
His father’s silver eyes, so alike his own, hardened as he glared at his own son. “She,” he spat, “belongs to a family of blood traitors. You are to never, ever, talk to her again, do you understand?”
“Y-Yes sir,” Draco muttered, deciding to back off for the moment. He could see the rage and fury that burned in his father’s eyes, and felt fear rise in him. He knew what his father would do if Draco disobeyed, or if Draco resisted.
What was the girl’s name, anyways?
--
As Draco lay in his bed, his favorite stuffed snake beside him, and the candle dimmed just right, he wondered about that odd feeling he had felt when the girl had laid her hand on his and extended an invitation to him. That feeling of completeness that overwhelmed him, this feeling that he had never felt before.
What was it?
Draco’s curiosity was piqued, and nothing could stop Draco from going back now, not even his father.
--
Amazingly, Draco’s father still continued to take him along on those rare trips to Diagon Alley. Draco supposed it was because it gave off better appearances that the Malfoy heir was accompanying his father, or something like that. It hurt Draco’s head when he thought about it too much.
“DRACO! Wait outside!” Lucius Malfoy roared, all the while still furiously glaring down the cowering storeowner in front of him. “I have some things I’d like to discuss privately!”
Draco nodded mutely and trudged outside, trying to ignore his father’s shouts coming from inside. He knew his father had a terrible, absolutely horrible temper when prodded, since Draco had been on the receiving end of that temper several times.
The rain began to fall as Draco stood, and Draco shrank back against the meager space of shelter the shop’s doorway offered him. After several minutes, a familiar face popped up out of the rain.
Freckles. Big, brown eyes. Red hair that was thoroughly soaked. Wide grin, beckoning him to join in the wild chase in the rain.
Draco hesitated, and looked back towards the store. Sensing his doubt, the girl approached him again.
“Come on, play with us!” she chirped brightly, despite the gloomy clouds and rain.
“I-I can’t,” Draco whispered. “If my father finds out, I won’t be able to ever leave the house again.”
The girl nodded, her face falling just a little. “That’s okay then. You don’t mind if I stand next to you and talk to you?”
Draco listened to the conversation going on inside the store, and noted that his father probably still had a long time to rant before he ran out of steam. Draco shook his head.
“I’d like that.”
The girl flashed her infamous grin again, and ducked in under the store doorway with Draco, waving and yelling to her brothers to continue on without her.
She placed her small, freckled hand in his equally small pale one.
“My name’s Ginny,” she announced.
“And I’m Draco,” he replied, saying so even though he knew she already knew his name.
And so began the tale of Ginny and Draco, the birth of a friendship.
-fin-
Title: The Birth of a Friendship
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Draco Malfoy/Ginny Weasley, Lucius Malfoy, random Weasley family members
Table: Table Four, here
Prompt: 28 - Birth
Word Count: 1,161
Rating: G-PG, somewhere around that range...
Summary: What has the Malfoy heir been missing out on? True love, friendship, and acceptance...until he finds all of those qualities in a small, red-haired girl that reached out to him.
Author's Notes: Thanks to Annie (
meringue_kiss ) for the beta.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling does, however.
100situations Prompt 28 - Birth
--
Ever since his birth, he had been shunned.
He remembered crying alone in his expensive nursery, to the old nurse that was kind and sympathetic, but never understood. She gave him hugs and tucked him into bed, but she just didn’t seem to understand what the little Malfoy heir wanted.
Draco didn’t know how to express it. He felt so alone and empty, wandering the halls of the cold mansion he lived in. His parents never talked to him, unless it was absolutely necessary.
Draco had no sisters, no brothers, and no pets. Ever since his birth, he had been pampered, and the materialistic comforts that surrounded him were supposed to make him happy. They did, at first. Draco loved bouncing on his soft gold bed, and playing with all of the most expensive toys his father got him.
But his father never played with him. It was always Draco, sitting by himself in a vast room, playing half-heartedly with the newest toy his father assured him no other little boy had.
Draco always remembered going to Diagon Alley with his father on rare occasions, and staring wistfully at the other children playing with their parents. He remembered the first time, when Draco was five. He saw a whole family of red headed people, shopping right across the street from them. Draco saw that their robes were old, patched, and shabby, but the red heads themselves appeared that they didn’t care. They were all smiling, laughing, and helping each other with bags.
The littlest one, a girl, dropped a bag and fell on the street, but an older brother, by the looks of it, helped her up and another brother took the bag she had dropped. The little girl (who looked only a year or so younger than Draco) started crying into her older brother’s arms, but the brother comforted her until the little girl was smiling again.
While Draco’s father talked to the storeowner inside, Draco silently stood outside of the store, watching the clouds. Why didn’t Draco get this feeling of warmth and comfort he saw other children experience? What was he missing out on?
As Draco stood and brooded, the smiling girl from before walked up to him. Her smaller hand on his alerted him to her presence, and he looked up into the widely grin of a small, freckled-face with red hair pulled back into two pigtails.
“Hello,” she said. “Would you like to play?” She indicated to the game she had been playing with three of her older brothers.
Draco didn’t know what to say. But he told himself that just one game with other children couldn’t hurt. Maybe that was what he had been missing out on.
Just as he opened his mouth to accept, his father strode out of the store in a whirl of black and green robes. “Come on, Draco, we’re leaving,” his father said brusquely and abruptly walked off in the other direction.
“I-I have to go,” Draco mumbled, noticing how the girl had shrank back against the wall when his father appeared.
The girl nodded, and looked up shyly. “I hope I’ll see you again…Draco,” she murmured before running back to her brothers.
Draco stood, dazed, before turning and catching up to his father.
--
Ever since his birth, Draco had been taught that whatever his father said, it was the law. And after the day when Draco met the red haired girl, his father had decreed that Draco was not to associate with any other children other than purebloods.
Draco’s heart sank. He had hoped that his father didn’t notice the small girl and that Draco might get a chance to talk to her again.
“What about that girl from yesterday?” he protested. “Was she a pureblood?”
His father’s silver eyes, so alike his own, hardened as he glared at his own son. “She,” he spat, “belongs to a family of blood traitors. You are to never, ever, talk to her again, do you understand?”
“Y-Yes sir,” Draco muttered, deciding to back off for the moment. He could see the rage and fury that burned in his father’s eyes, and felt fear rise in him. He knew what his father would do if Draco disobeyed, or if Draco resisted.
What was the girl’s name, anyways?
--
As Draco lay in his bed, his favorite stuffed snake beside him, and the candle dimmed just right, he wondered about that odd feeling he had felt when the girl had laid her hand on his and extended an invitation to him. That feeling of completeness that overwhelmed him, this feeling that he had never felt before.
What was it?
Draco’s curiosity was piqued, and nothing could stop Draco from going back now, not even his father.
--
Amazingly, Draco’s father still continued to take him along on those rare trips to Diagon Alley. Draco supposed it was because it gave off better appearances that the Malfoy heir was accompanying his father, or something like that. It hurt Draco’s head when he thought about it too much.
“DRACO! Wait outside!” Lucius Malfoy roared, all the while still furiously glaring down the cowering storeowner in front of him. “I have some things I’d like to discuss privately!”
Draco nodded mutely and trudged outside, trying to ignore his father’s shouts coming from inside. He knew his father had a terrible, absolutely horrible temper when prodded, since Draco had been on the receiving end of that temper several times.
The rain began to fall as Draco stood, and Draco shrank back against the meager space of shelter the shop’s doorway offered him. After several minutes, a familiar face popped up out of the rain.
Freckles. Big, brown eyes. Red hair that was thoroughly soaked. Wide grin, beckoning him to join in the wild chase in the rain.
Draco hesitated, and looked back towards the store. Sensing his doubt, the girl approached him again.
“Come on, play with us!” she chirped brightly, despite the gloomy clouds and rain.
“I-I can’t,” Draco whispered. “If my father finds out, I won’t be able to ever leave the house again.”
The girl nodded, her face falling just a little. “That’s okay then. You don’t mind if I stand next to you and talk to you?”
Draco listened to the conversation going on inside the store, and noted that his father probably still had a long time to rant before he ran out of steam. Draco shook his head.
“I’d like that.”
The girl flashed her infamous grin again, and ducked in under the store doorway with Draco, waving and yelling to her brothers to continue on without her.
She placed her small, freckled hand in his equally small pale one.
“My name’s Ginny,” she announced.
“And I’m Draco,” he replied, saying so even though he knew she already knew his name.
And so began the tale of Ginny and Draco, the birth of a friendship.
-fin-