A/N: Thanks a million to everyone who reviewed! Luv it! Now let's see what I can do about the little request I heard: FIX IT! *hides behind desk* "Well I...You know...Go and read, and don't throw things!"
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Nothing from Phantom of the Opera. Nothing from Harry Potter. Life's though.
Angel of Music
By
Sannikex
Chapter Sixteen
Snow
Angrily Ginny wiped away the tears that would not stop falling and walked faster. Her breath was ragged and came in white puffs of smoke. The snow crunched under her feet and gleamed in the moonlight. She had thought he was changed, that he was not a Malfoy, that he was her Angel.
“Hearing is believing, music is deceiving. Dare you trust the Music of the Night…” She scolded herself and her weak heart.
“I’m a Gryffindor of course I dared to trust him. And I have to wear my heart on my sleeves so anyone can break it!”
Not seeing where she walked for the tears in her eyes, she tripped over a root hidden in the snow. She fell straight on her face down in the snow and her sobs increased. Everything felt hopeless, she was deceived by the boy she was in love with, she had lost one of her best friends because he thought the she had cheated on him and what made her feel really bad was that in her mind she actually had. She hadn’t done anything with Draco but how could she prevent her dreams?
Upon that Chanté he had pointed out that she didn’t sing as well as before. Her brother avoided her and many Gryffindors ignored her.
Cold was seeping into her clothes and the snow stung her bare face. She heard steps but did not feel like moving, she could lie here for eternity. No one would hurt her she would be all alone...
The steps were coming closer and stopped near her right hand. Still not making any movements except for breathing Ginny felt how something heavy and warm was put on her before the steps retreated again. Wearily she lifted her head and looked around. She didn’t see anyone but she noticed what was put upon her. A cloak.
Rising reluctantly to sitting position she examined it closer. It was by far the most beautiful and well-made cloak Ginny had ever seen. In her family they had always purchased the standard wool cloaks and passed them on to the next sibling. Since Ginny was the youngest of seven children, the cloaks she received were always overlarge and very worn. This one was made of a material she had never seen; it was light and thick and had a distinct smell she thought she recognised. The cloak was lined with fur, silver fox fur. It had to be hard to find a more expensive cloak anywhere. As she thought about it, she understood who had covered her with the garment. And as if to confirm her thought the initials D.M were embroidered inside.
In despair and at a loss for words she managed a wholehearted,
“Shit!”
He acted as a bastard and then did something so considerate, so romantic that she now was feeling her anger just float out of her mind. No! Her mind screamed, couldn’t she remember the monster that hid inside his very soul? His eyes, cold and hard as ice hovered before her, but it was not his face that completed the image, it was Lucius Malfoy’s.
She pictured Draco as he had stood in the mirror frame; his eyes guarded but not cold, braced but not hostile. Not when they looked at her. The way they looked at her, as there was no one else in the room, like she was all that mattered.
Draping the cloak around her she lay back again and watched the stars, how they twinkled...they became a pair of silver eyes, merrily shining. Draco’s eyes...That was the last Ginny saw before she fell asleep.
A shadow crept out of the dark forest and cast a spell on the sleeping girl. The moonlight glittered in his hair.
Draco had never in his life felt like this. But since he started to get to know Ginny Weasley nothing was like it used to be. A lonely girl who enjoyed music had met a lonely boy who enjoyed music. That was all they had been. Companions not friends, then friends and now? Nothing.
It scared him out of his mind but he wanted to apologize to her. He really couldn’t see why she was protecting Potter; he was obviously as dense as he looked. Must be some weird Gryffindor, “friends”, thing.
Earlier that night he had seen Ginny walk out of the castle and followed her. She had fell and when she didn’t rise he had started to run until he saw her relaxed face. She was actually resting, poorly dressed in the snow. He had given her his cloak so she could rest more comfortably. He didn’t know why he had, he just did it. Then he had hid in the shadows of the forest.
Ginny had been sleepy enough to not notice the footprints. She had fallen asleep with his cloak wrapped around her. Another one of those tender feelings, he seemed to get constantly when he was around Ginny, kicked in and he wanted nothing more than lay down beside her in the snow, only to be closer.
Restraining himself he had cast a long-lasting warming spell on her so she wouldn’t freeze to death (she was truly mad, drifting off in this weather) and he left her very reluctantly. Just to be sure he left three protecting charms and an extra warming spell.
Now he was sitting in his common room watching the lonely black spot that was the sleeping Ginny Weasley. She would probably burn his cloak in the morning but it felt like he had some sort of protection on her if she had the cloth. Shaking his head as if to make the silly thoughts vanish, he shifted his uncomfortable position in the windowsill and then stilled again.
He still wondered what made Ginny Weasley so special. Sure she was pretty but he had dated far more beautiful witches than her. She was a Gryffindor and a Weasley. He should hate her.
But she could smile and make a whole room light up. She could sing so he felt like he needed nothing else in the world than her. She could look at him so he lost his breath. No one had ever done that to him before and he wanted to know why it was she.
Was it because she was his first and only friend? Was this maybe only the feeling friends had for each other? He couldn’t know, could he?
But something deep inside him, that his father had not killed totally, whispered that this was not a feeling between friends. It was the tiny bit of a heart that still remained in Draco Malfoy. A slumbering part of his body, or rather his mind, that the gentle redhead had awoken. Draco didn’t understand this and spent the night watching that nothing happened to the black spot in the snow, angry with himself for doing so, and still, amazingly relaxed and content just watching her.
A/N: Did I mention that I love reviews? Make my day and review!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Nothing from Phantom of the Opera. Nothing from Harry Potter. Life's though.
Angel of Music
By
Sannikex
Chapter Sixteen
Snow
Angrily Ginny wiped away the tears that would not stop falling and walked faster. Her breath was ragged and came in white puffs of smoke. The snow crunched under her feet and gleamed in the moonlight. She had thought he was changed, that he was not a Malfoy, that he was her Angel.
“Hearing is believing, music is deceiving. Dare you trust the Music of the Night…” She scolded herself and her weak heart.
“I’m a Gryffindor of course I dared to trust him. And I have to wear my heart on my sleeves so anyone can break it!”
Not seeing where she walked for the tears in her eyes, she tripped over a root hidden in the snow. She fell straight on her face down in the snow and her sobs increased. Everything felt hopeless, she was deceived by the boy she was in love with, she had lost one of her best friends because he thought the she had cheated on him and what made her feel really bad was that in her mind she actually had. She hadn’t done anything with Draco but how could she prevent her dreams?
Upon that Chanté he had pointed out that she didn’t sing as well as before. Her brother avoided her and many Gryffindors ignored her.
Cold was seeping into her clothes and the snow stung her bare face. She heard steps but did not feel like moving, she could lie here for eternity. No one would hurt her she would be all alone...
The steps were coming closer and stopped near her right hand. Still not making any movements except for breathing Ginny felt how something heavy and warm was put on her before the steps retreated again. Wearily she lifted her head and looked around. She didn’t see anyone but she noticed what was put upon her. A cloak.
Rising reluctantly to sitting position she examined it closer. It was by far the most beautiful and well-made cloak Ginny had ever seen. In her family they had always purchased the standard wool cloaks and passed them on to the next sibling. Since Ginny was the youngest of seven children, the cloaks she received were always overlarge and very worn. This one was made of a material she had never seen; it was light and thick and had a distinct smell she thought she recognised. The cloak was lined with fur, silver fox fur. It had to be hard to find a more expensive cloak anywhere. As she thought about it, she understood who had covered her with the garment. And as if to confirm her thought the initials D.M were embroidered inside.
In despair and at a loss for words she managed a wholehearted,
“Shit!”
He acted as a bastard and then did something so considerate, so romantic that she now was feeling her anger just float out of her mind. No! Her mind screamed, couldn’t she remember the monster that hid inside his very soul? His eyes, cold and hard as ice hovered before her, but it was not his face that completed the image, it was Lucius Malfoy’s.
She pictured Draco as he had stood in the mirror frame; his eyes guarded but not cold, braced but not hostile. Not when they looked at her. The way they looked at her, as there was no one else in the room, like she was all that mattered.
Draping the cloak around her she lay back again and watched the stars, how they twinkled...they became a pair of silver eyes, merrily shining. Draco’s eyes...That was the last Ginny saw before she fell asleep.
A shadow crept out of the dark forest and cast a spell on the sleeping girl. The moonlight glittered in his hair.
Draco had never in his life felt like this. But since he started to get to know Ginny Weasley nothing was like it used to be. A lonely girl who enjoyed music had met a lonely boy who enjoyed music. That was all they had been. Companions not friends, then friends and now? Nothing.
It scared him out of his mind but he wanted to apologize to her. He really couldn’t see why she was protecting Potter; he was obviously as dense as he looked. Must be some weird Gryffindor, “friends”, thing.
Earlier that night he had seen Ginny walk out of the castle and followed her. She had fell and when she didn’t rise he had started to run until he saw her relaxed face. She was actually resting, poorly dressed in the snow. He had given her his cloak so she could rest more comfortably. He didn’t know why he had, he just did it. Then he had hid in the shadows of the forest.
Ginny had been sleepy enough to not notice the footprints. She had fallen asleep with his cloak wrapped around her. Another one of those tender feelings, he seemed to get constantly when he was around Ginny, kicked in and he wanted nothing more than lay down beside her in the snow, only to be closer.
Restraining himself he had cast a long-lasting warming spell on her so she wouldn’t freeze to death (she was truly mad, drifting off in this weather) and he left her very reluctantly. Just to be sure he left three protecting charms and an extra warming spell.
Now he was sitting in his common room watching the lonely black spot that was the sleeping Ginny Weasley. She would probably burn his cloak in the morning but it felt like he had some sort of protection on her if she had the cloth. Shaking his head as if to make the silly thoughts vanish, he shifted his uncomfortable position in the windowsill and then stilled again.
He still wondered what made Ginny Weasley so special. Sure she was pretty but he had dated far more beautiful witches than her. She was a Gryffindor and a Weasley. He should hate her.
But she could smile and make a whole room light up. She could sing so he felt like he needed nothing else in the world than her. She could look at him so he lost his breath. No one had ever done that to him before and he wanted to know why it was she.
Was it because she was his first and only friend? Was this maybe only the feeling friends had for each other? He couldn’t know, could he?
But something deep inside him, that his father had not killed totally, whispered that this was not a feeling between friends. It was the tiny bit of a heart that still remained in Draco Malfoy. A slumbering part of his body, or rather his mind, that the gentle redhead had awoken. Draco didn’t understand this and spent the night watching that nothing happened to the black spot in the snow, angry with himself for doing so, and still, amazingly relaxed and content just watching her.
A/N: Did I mention that I love reviews? Make my day and review!
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