Timeline:End of Draco's 5th year and Ginny's 4th year; OotP
Disclaimer: All elements from the Harry Potter universe belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Author's Notes: My first HP fanfic. I've always loved this pairing but have never attempted to write a fic based on them until this one. Draco bunnies bit me and wouldn't let go. What can I say? :p Feedback would be greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Endless chattering. Forks and knives clattering. High-pitched squeals and grunting snorts. They all came together in what he could only describe as unbearable noise. The kind that crawled into your ear and rotted, leaving behind an echoing stink. It was the same everyday and he began to wonder when he would finally go insane. Idiots. The whole lot of them were all idiots.

His gaze fell upon the Gryffindor table and he knew more than he felt, that a sneer was creeping on to his face. Gryffindors. He did not think there would ever be an adequate description that would be able to portray his hatred for them. His eyes narrowed in disgust as he watched the Trio huddle together closely, whispering away as everyone around them laughed uproariously at something that was undoubtedly stupid. He supposed they must be happy for finally landing his father in Azkaban. And he vaguely wondered if it was possible for him to hate them even more than he already did.

It was funny, really, how the people he despised ended up controlling his life. How they ended up controlling his every action and everything he did. It was bad enough that they were always there at every corner, waiting to condemn him into being his father. Into being the Slytherin they thought they knew. As if the dimwits would ever understand what being a Slytherin was really like. But he didn't mind so much. Not really. Not when he could use that as means of returning his own hatred for them. They expected Slytherins to make their mundane little lives miserable, and who was he to deny them that?

It didn't matter if he had never done anything to them that called for compassionate words to be spoken about him. Because underneath it all, he understood that they would always view him as the nasty slime. That even if he had never done anything remotely unkind towards them, they would still manage to twist every action and every little gesture into that of an evil Slytherin beast. And they called Gryffindors the noble ones. It was a laughable joke.

Them with their red and golden shades of goodness, taking it upon themselves to fight all the evil in the world as though everything they did was automatically righteous. It was as though everything they saw went as far as their rose-colored encased bubble could stretch, not taking into the account the bigger picture. That not everything was black or white. That there were many shades of grey they had so carelessly stomped away. They who had ruined all his plans once more with their so-called heroic deeds. For that alone, he felt as though he was allowed to hate them with all his heartless self. And so he did.

He was vaguely aware of the emptiness around him, and he knew the skitterish Slytherins crowded on the other side of the table were nervously whispering about him. Crabbe and Goyle themselves were nowhere to be found. And no one had yet to dare inquire about his father to his face. But he knew what they were all thinking. The Gryffindors no doubt saw him as crippled now, without his father to hide behind. The Ravenclaws shot him discreet speculative glances, studiously watching him from afar. The Hufflepuffs were more obvious in their observations, though he was sure even they could not find any sympathy within them to give him. The Slytherins, on the other hand, were more careful. He knew without listening in on their conversations that they were all biding their time and waiting quietly before blatantly declaring their intentions. He knew they were still weighing their options, calculating in their cunning minds whether it was still in their interest to follow him as they did throughout his years at Hogwarts.

But he paid none of that any attention. He was tired of it all. For the last five years, he had played the Slytherin Prince. He had played the bully and the spoiled brat, living up to every expectation anyone had of him. Everyone except his father. His father who expected nothing short of perfection. His father whose expectations he could never even dream of meeting. Most of all, his father who had unwittingly gotten himself arrested.

He was bitter; he would not deny that. He was supposed to have two more years of being free. Two more years of playing the role of a twisted evil son of Lucius Malfoy. Unlike the Gryffindor idiots, he understood how the world outside of Hogwarts really worked. He understood what was waiting for him the moment he graduated. And he understood that it wasn't going to be a loving family welcoming him home with hugs and cookies. No, never that. For him, it would be a great pat on the back as his father whispered in his ears that it was time for him to join the inner circle. To finally receive the dark mark that would for once make his father proud. But until then, he would bide his time. He did not yet need to worry about something that wouldn't happen for at least two years. And even then, he suspected and almost dared to hope that the Dark Lord could potentially be defeated by then, which would then eliminate his problem for him.

Except now, everything has changed. With his father's arrest, came the Ministry's overzealous attempt at smoothing over all of Fudge's glaring mistakes. That meant the Ministry sticking their overly large noses into the Malfoy property and the Malfoy affairs, consequently digging up faults and reasons to seize everything while he suddenly found himself prematurely pushed into the role of the Head of Malfoy House. And with that position came the almost automatic attachment to the Dark Lord's bidding, among other things that he somehow found himself railroaded into. They had shamed his father and left him in the ruins of the prestigious Malfoy name.

He could feel his fingers digging into his fisted palms, perhaps almost drawing blood. The owls came then and he glanced upwards impassively. It didn't take him long to spot the one he absently searched for as it flew towards the Gryffindor table and dropped the package off. Again, he was struck with the irony of how true it was becoming... that the people he despised were the ones who ended up controlling his life. The Golden Trio, the Dark Lord, and even her.

He watched her jump slightly at the small package that landed unceremoniously on her plate. With his face blank and his eyes schooled on her, he continued to watch as she stared at the unopened package with an expression that almost resembled horror. She was slowly wearing the bottom left corner of her lips away at the rate that she was chewing on them, and yet she sat there seemingly unwilling to touch the narrow flat box that sat in front of her. And then slowly as though she was being deliberate, she lifted her eyes and stared straight at him with those chocolate brown eyes. He did not look away, but instead allowed himself to return her bold gaze openly. He knew he was almost daring her to startle her own wits, and in turn, her eyes away from him. But she didn't, and he was strangely satisfied.

It was curious how he thought he could see the freckles that lightly dusted her nose even across the Great Hall from where he sat. Seven. Even without looking, he already knew there were seven of them around and on the bridge of her nose. They were the first things he had noticed about her all those years ago, and without realizing it at the time, he had subconsciously counted them. She had stared at him with wide eyes and for that one brief moment, he was taken aback by how open they were. He couldn't remember the last time someone had looked at him with such an unguarded expression on their face. Or since then, for that matter. It was almost unsettling.

But that, like most things in life, didn't last long. He shouldn't have been surprised really, when it was yet her again who suddenly leapt out to defend Potter during Lockhart's book signing incident. He should've known. But that didn't mean he was expecting it. Nor did it mean he had to like it. It almost made lashing out at her worth it. To watch with a certain malicious glee as those lips trembled and those wide eyes crumbled before his. He had even gone so far as to take pleasure in publicly taunting her for the ridiculous singing Valentine that she had sent Potter during her first year. It was truly sickening, the way she trailed after the Gryffindor hero with those love struck eyes of hers. He found that he hated her then. And more than everything else, he hated the fact that she of all people had to be who she was. A Weasley. And a Gryffindor. It was almost as if this was the way everything was planned for him all along.

His gaze shifted down towards the package that still laid untouched on her plate. With a grim lift of his lips, he realized not for the first time that she was the first and only person to have ever seen him as he was, without the Malfoy name nor the Slytherin badge on his robes. But that was only because she didn't know who he was at the time. And for that one short moment, she was simply perfect in his eyes. For that brief minute, she had managed to rip something away from him. She had managed to tear away his contentment, leaving behind only a certain longing for something he never knew he lacked. But none of it mattered. Not anymore.

Narrowing his eyes at the package, he raised them and allowed himself to stare at her one last time. The only reason he had bothered to come to breakfast at all was to make sure she received it. And now that she had, he didn't have any reason to hang around any longer. Finally averting his gaze, he welcomed the familiar emptiness and left the Great Hall.

The Gryffindor table seemed louder than usual as everyone fought to talk all at once. She was not surprised. It was the end of the year and they were finally all rid of Umbridge. But mostly, it was the news of Voldemort's return that had everyone whispering furiously. Amidst all those words, she knew they were also talking about him. News traveled fast, and it didn't take long for everyone to know that his father had been caught red-handed.

Her eyes automatically sought him out by reflex, but they paused and studied him entirely by her own free will. He was alone, and his expression was darker and more formidable than usual. His typical arrogant smirk was nowhere to be found and she supposed it was to be expected. Frowning slightly, she briefly wondered if she had ever seen Draco Malfoy all by himself, with no one standing beside him or crowding around him in an attempt to win his favors. She didn't think so. Not in school, at least. Sweeping a glance at the Slytherins, she creased her eyebrows in something akin to dismay. It would seem they had abandoned him the moment they found out his father had been exposed and then consequently placed in Azkaban.

Turning her attention back to him, she wondered yet again as she so often did during her four years at Hogwarts... about what was really going through his mind. For so long, she had told herself that it was all for the best that she kept away from him. He was after all, a Malfoy and a Slytherin at that. Even worse, were all the stories about his viciousness that she had heard from her brother and his friends. But yet, time and time again, her eyes would betray her and then they would stray towards the Slytherin table to silently watch him lord over those Death Eater children. And it was with a mixture of intrigue and terror that she continued to observe him from the shadows. Yet each time she grew more and more disappointed. That, in turn, made her want to whimper in frustration.

She knew what she was searching for. It was a particular expression she had once seen on his face. If she closed her eyes, she could almost still picture it. Her quest first began out of fear as she tiptoed around him, almost as though she was walking on glass that may suddenly explode in her face. She hadn't realized it at the time, but she was waiting for the other shoe to drop, so to speak. Draco Malfoy had been nice to her. Surely it was a trick of some sort and he would find a way to use it against her. Or at the very least, he was probably working on a plan to make her life as miserable as possible. But it never happened. There was no other shoe.

When she found out who he was... when he had stepped out from the shadows and mocked Harry at the book signing, she was utterly crushed and horrified to discover that he was the Draco Malfoy. The person who made her brother's life a living hell at school. The boy whose father was the one person her father hated the most. She couldn't begin to explain why, but she felt this terrible embarrassment crawl under her skin that made her face flush with the feeling of knawing stupidity. And it was with a sudden inexplicable need to bury it that she found herself leaping forward to defend Harry in stubborn pride. Had she been just a little less absorbed with her own humiliation... had she looked just a little closer, and had all the commotion between her father and Lucius Malfoy not happen, she may have noticed it earlier. Then she may have seen that he was just as startled as she was. That the flicker in his eyes reflected her own. Perhaps then, she could've saved herself all the trouble.

But she didn't see it. Instead, she waited with bated breath to see what he would do to her. And even when he mocked her for her childish crush on Harry, she was dissatisfied. It took almost a year for her to realize that he wasn't going to seek her out. The one time he had made fun of her, it wasn't even for her benefit. It was done solely to humiliate Harry. Then when she found out Lucius Malfoy was the person who had given her the diary that made her do terrible things, she quietly waited once more. If anyone knew what was going through her mind, they would almost think she was hoping for him to taunt her for her stupidity once more. But it never came no matter how she waited. And she waited for a very long time.

Always in the shadows, she would watch him as he continued to come up with elaborate plans to spite her brother or his friends. She would hear him make fun of her family, throw hurtful comments about their lack of wealth. But never once did he aim those insults at her even though she too was a Weasley. Not once did he stop in the hallway for her. It was as though she didn't even exist, as though she wasn't worth his time. And it made her angry beyond sensible reason. It was the oddest feeling, but she felt utterly betrayed.

It took another year for her to finally realize it. To understand that he noticed everything, however insignificant they may be. That he rarely passed up the opportunity to live up to his nasty reputation. It became apparent then, that she was the only person to have escaped his wrath. With that discovery, her world tipped upside down and no one knew it. She began watching him in earnest, constantly searching for traces of him. The one she had seen only once. Because she dared herself to hope, that he had kept his word after all.

The corners of her lips lifted absently at the memory of a Draco Malfoy that she had met. Not the one inside the bookstore, but the one she met on the crowded streets of Diagon Alley as she stumbled onto him in her frantic search of red heads. There were people going in every which direction as they rushed to get supplies for yet another new year at Hogwarts. For her, it was exciting because she finally got to join in on the hustle and bustle. She was finally going to join her brothers at Hogwarts. But with that, chance took her away from her brothers and she suddenly found that she had lost her family in the crowd. As with most people who weren't paying attention to where they were going, she was no different.

"Hey! Watch where you're going! Don't you have eyes?!"

It was truly nasty, that tone of voice. She would forever wonder what sort of expression was on his face as he said it. But she never saw it. She was too busy staring at the torn ribbon lying on the ground. It was funny how worried she had been...about how her mother would surely scold her for ruining the new ribbon she had so desperately begged for after she had received her Hogwarts letter. Her mother had never even noticed that it was gone, but she didn't know it at the time. All she could do was stare at her beautiful ribbon on the ground, dirtied and torn in half.

"What's the matter with you? First you come barreling down the street like a crazed hippogriff and now yo-"

Again, she wondered what he would've gone on with had she not looked up at him right then and blurted out the only thing on her mind.

"My ribbon..." she moaned.

He had stared at her, completely stupefied. And she would've laughed if she wasn't feeling so miserable at the time. His mouth snapped shut and he frowned down at her.

"It's only a ribbon, isn't it? Get up off the floor and just go buy yourself another one."

He had said it so simply that it almost made her burst into tears right then and there. Instead, she had looked up at him and really noticed him for the first time. His expensive robes. The platinum blond hair that was swept back impeccably without a single strand out of place. His pale skin and the pointed features on his face. And those silvery grey eyes staring at her in exasperation. She knew then, that he wouldn't understand that she could not just get up and buy another one as he so casually put it.

She could feel her lower lip trembling and she cursed herself for her affinity to cry when she was frustrated. His eyes had widened and if she didn't know better, she would've thought he was panicking.

Whipping his head around as though he was checking to see if anyone was watching, he bent down and cried out helplessly, "Well, fix it then! You've got a wand, haven't you? You're a witch, aren't you?!"

She gaped at him for a minute before bowing her head in embarrassment and mumbled, "I don't know how. I'm only just starting Hogwarts this year."

And she could still remember the way he incredulously looked at her before he suddenly grinned arrogantly.

"Well, why didn't you say so. I'll repair it for you then."

She watched him jut his chest out in a way that reminded her of Percy and giggled. He took his wand out and was about to cast a spell when she reached out and grabbed his hand. She couldn't decide who was more startled, he or she.

Snatching her hand back, she could feel her face flushing hotly. "You- you're not supposed to use magic outside of school."

She chewed on her lips and dared a peek at his face. He had raised a single eyebrow at her and opened his mouth as though to respond, but she never knew what he had been meaning to say.

"Ginny! Ginny, where are you dear? Ginny!"

She turned and spotted a blur of red further down the street and sighed in relief. Turning back towards the boy, she reached out on impulse and hugged him fiercely. He looked so shocked that she had almost giggled once more. Instead, she smiled at him gratefully and said her thanks.

"I hope we'll be in the same house at Hogwarts."

And as she took off down the street, she heard him call out to her.

"Wait! Your ribbon!"

She turned around and hollered, "Keep it! You can fix it for me when we get to Hogwarts!"

He never did say anything in response, though of course she never gave him the chance to. But before she dove into the crowded street towards her family, she saw him grin at her openly. And she thought it was the most beautiful thing. She didn't know it at the time, but it would be the only time she ever saw that look on his face. Everything came tumbling down when she saw him again mere minutes later, throwing insults at Harry. And after four years of watching him, she began to suspect that she may have been the only person in the whole of Hogwarts to ever see him smile the way he did.

But now, more than ever, she felt him slipping away from her. The sensible side of her knew of course, that she never had him. But yet she had never thought it more obvious, the wide rift between them. And she knew she herself had played a part of it when she had burst into the room where he held Harry hostage, on the night his father would be arrested at the Ministry. She had taken one look at him and hexed him with everything she had. She had thrown forth in that hex, all the misery he had unwittingly put her through without even realizing. And then she had gone on to play her part in getting his father arrested while he was probably recovering from her hex at the infirmary. Somehow, she couldn't rid herself of the sadness that lingered as she watched him once more from across the Great Hall. What would he do now?

The owls came then, but she barely paid it any attention. Not until she noticed him lift his head absently as though he was searching for something. Something that was apparently hovering above her. And then it dropped on her plate, almost with a vengeance. All she could do right then was stare at the sleek and flat rectangular box with unfathomable dread.

To Ginevra Weasley, Gryffindor House

Of Gryffindor House. Yes, that was the house she was sorted into. It wasn't Slytherin. She and Draco Malfoy would've never had the chance to be in the same house in a billion years. Looking back on her parting comment at Diagon Alley, it was only in hindsight that she saw how ridiculous something so innocent sounded to her now. And she was suddenly terrified at what the box held. Lifting her head, she dared herself to look at him once more. Only to have her gut take a steep dive at the the sight of him staring right back at her.

There were only three other times in her life that their eyes had met so clearly. Once on a sunny day at Diagon Alley. Another, only minutes later when she had glared at him in defiance. And again only a few days ago when their stunned eyes met briefly before she shouted the first hex that came to mind. But it was in that moment as their eyes met once more, that she realized many things. This time, she watched his gaze linger on the slim package in front of her and she felt her own eyes unwillingly pulled towards it in response. And as her fingers fluttered at the edge of the box, she knew what it was that constantly tugged her insides everytime she watched him. It was waning hope.

Sliding her fingers along the wrapping paper, she lifted the box slightly. But it was enough to make her stomach twist painfully at the sight of the ribbon that the box held. With trembling fingers, she reached forward and softly caressed it. She had almost forgotten what colors they were. Forest green with silver trimmings. Slytherin colors. It had matched her hair perfectly. And he had repaired it for her after all. It looked almost new, except the ends were a little worn as though it had often been rubbed between fingers throughout the years. Gripping the ribbon tightly, she lifted her head in desperate search of him. But he had gone.

It came unbidden. The waning hope.

Without realizing that she had held it in her heart for the last four years, she stared down at the ribbon and knew without a doubt... that every bit of it had been ripped away from her.

Some rifts were never meant to be crossed. And some things were simply irreparable.

Thank you for reading and I hope you'll take the time to review and let me know how you liked it!