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I remember the day I first had a civil conversation with him like it was yesterday. That’s probably because it was yesterday. Anyway, it was Valentine’s Day and a snow day, so I was out sledding with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. After I slid down the hill for about the trillionth time, I rolled off my sled and stared up at the snow falling from the sky.
It was odd how white the sky was, peaceful in fact, and you couldn’t really see the snow at all. I could only tell that snow was falling because it landed on my face and eyelashes.
After a few minutes of lying there, I heard Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s constant chatter heading towards the castle. It figures; leave Ron’s invisible sister behind.
I stayed there for a few more minutes and as I was about to get up, I heard a voice say, “You might want to get inside, the storm is going to get much worse.”
I got up and found myself looking into silver eyes. I gave him a small smile, not wanting to insult him after he was being nice and not knowing what to say to a nice Draco Malfoy.
I turned to walk away, but he grabbed my hand.
“What are you doing all the way out here by yourself?” he asked, not a single trace of malice, sarcasm, or loathing in his voice.
“They left me again,” I whispered.
“Well then, why were you lying out in the snow?”
“It’s beautiful.”
I shivered. In one swift movement, he undid the scarf around his neck and handed it to me.
“Thanks,” I smiled. I wrapped the scarf around my neck and started towards the castle, with Draco beside me. We walked in companionable silence and, in a few minutes, we were walking up the steps. He turned to go to the dungeons and I to the towers.
I stopped. “Draco.”
“Yes?” he replied, turning around.
“Your scarf,” I said, unwinding it from around my neck.
“Keep it.”
“Thanks.”
* * *
Later
I was sitting in bed, thinking about our conversation, coughing and sneezing my brains out.
I could hear an argument going on downstairs in the common room and it was only adding to my headache. I tried to make the words out.
“...can go up...see her...want!”
“...my sister...filthy...!
“Ronald!” I knew it was Hermione who said that.
“...Granger will...see her.”
“...she won’t!”
“Yes I will, Ronald, and I don’t want to hear another word about it!” Hermione yelled.
“...broomstick...up there.”
“...mine.”
“Ronald, let him borrow it!” Hermione ordered. She then marched up the stairs and knocked on my door.
“Gin?” she said, opening the door.
“Yes, Hermione?”
“You’ve got a visitor.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. Now I’ll leave you two be,” she said, as she took some dirty soup bowls and walked out.
“Hey, Weasley.”
“Hi, Malfoy. Why are you here?” I asked.
“If you don’t want me here, I’ll leave,” he said turning.
“No. I want you to be here, I’m just surprised that’s all,” I told him.
“I heard you were sick and I just wanted to check in,” he muttered.
“Thanks.”
* * *
For the next week of break, I was confined to my room. Draco came up to see me every day, bringing me food and talking with me. I always knew when he arrived because Ron would always demand (VERY loudly) why he kept coming to see me. Hermione would tell Ron to go polish his broom and to leave Draco alone.
Finally, I was let out of my room and I went to the kitchens to get something good to eat for the first time in a week.
I had just conned a box of brownie mix out of the house elves and was about to bake them when a pair of cool hands slipped over my eyes. I laughed and spun around.
“Hey, you.”
“Hey, yourself,” Draco smiled. “What are you doing?”
“Making brownies. Wanna help?” I didn’t wait for an answer before I said, “Good. Pour in the mix and start stirring.”
“I don’t cook,” came the reply.
“I’ll teach you. It’s just like potions,” I told him. Draco grumbled, but added the brownie mix to the water and oil already in the bowl and started stirring. I cracked two eggs and dropped them in. I waited until he finished stirring and then poured the batter into a pan, put it in the magical oven and set the timer.
“Now what?”
“We wait,” I replied. Meanwhile, we talked and talked and almost forgot about the brownies, but the timer reminded us. I took them out of the oven and cut them. Draco came over and took one, “Mmmm.”
“I’ll say. I’ve been waiting a week to get down here and make something chocolate-y,” I agreed.
“Why are you upset?” Draco asked.
“I’m not upset,” I responded, not quite meeting his gaze.
“You indulge in lots of chocolate when you’re upset. Potter again?”
“I don’t like him any more, I really don’t. It’s just that he says that we’re friends and then he ignores me. Every time I go to talk to him, they all stop speaking, like I can’t be trusted. I’m their friend! They know I am! It’s just not fair!” I confessed, tears starting to drip down my face. “It’s like I was only Ron’s little sister to them, like I was never really friends with them!”
I ran into Draco’s arms and he uncomfortably comforted me.
“Pothead’s a git. I’ve always said that, haven’t I? And I’m always right. He’s not worth your tears, Ginny,” Draco soothed in his Prince of Slytherin way.
“I just... they make me feel so alone!” I sobbed.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” he said, with--could it be?--hurt in his voice.
I nodded, stopping my tears, “Thank you for being here. And you know that I meant, before you started talking to me, that I was all alone.”
“I know.”
* * *
“I don’t like you hanging out with him, Ginny,” Ron told me.
“I don’t care whether you like it or not, because he’s a better friend than the whole Gryffindor tower put together!” I yelled. I was so tired of my brother being over-protective when there was no need to be. I stormed over to the Slytherin table and plopped down next to Draco.
“What are you doing, Weaselette?” Blaise Zabini sneered.
“Shut the hell up, Blaise,” Draco snapped. “What’s wrong?” he asked, seeing the tears forming in my eyes.
“Ron,” I said in a monotone, blinking back the tears, and grabbing a piece of toast. I inhaled the toast and went for another piece.
“Care to elaborate?” Draco asked.
“He’s trying to forbid me from being friends with you,” I grumbled, sending Ron a death glare.
“And...”
“And I told him that you’ve been a better friend in two weeks than all of Gryffindor tower put together in the past six years,” I replied.
“Oh.”
“Well, it’s true and he--he--ugh! I just can’t deal with him right now, so I’m sitting here. Do you mind?” I rambled, grabbing some pancakes and slathering syrup on them.
“Yes,” Blaise snapped.
“Shut. The hell. Up, Blaise!” Draco yelled. “No, I don’t mind,” he drawled.
“Good. Because I’ve decided that I like sitting here a lot more than sitting there.”
“You can sit here every day if you like,” Draco smiled. Blaise sat next to him with his mouth hanging open, sputtering, and looking furious.
I laughed, “Sounds like a plan.”
“I can’t believe I forgot my manners. Blaise, this is Ginny Weasley. Ginny, this is Blaise Zabini,” Draco smirked. I grinned and held my hand out to Blaise. He numbly shook it and looked at Draco in disbelief.
I finished my pancakes quickly and asked Draco if he wanted to go for a walk by the lake. He nodded, grabbing an apple as we left.
He munched on his apple while I pulled his Slytherin scarf (I still hadn’t returned it) closer around my neck.
“Cold?” he asked.
“A little,” I responded. He put his arm around me and hugged me closer to him. I leaned into his touch and breathed in his expensive cologne. It reminded me of a muggle store called Abercrombie that Hermione took me too once. I loved the smell of that store.
“Much better,” I breathed. I stopped walking, he followed suit and quirked an eyebrow, asking, “What?”
I looked at his perfectly pale face, the wind blowing snow around him and tousling his silver-blond hair. He looked like an angel.
I took a cautious step towards him and then another. I slowly reached up and pushed a tendril of his hair out of his perfect sophisticated face and kissed him. He immediately responded and I grinned against his perfect lips. His tongue brushed along my bottom lip and I happily opened up to him.
After about a good minute of snogging, we came up for air.
“Mmm, apple,” I whispered, kissing him tentatively. He kissed me back with fervor and it made my knees go weak. Draco caught me and held me against him firmly.
“I could get used to this,” I mumbled against his neck.
“You’d better, because I don’t fancy the idea of you going back to Pothead,” Draco grumbled.
“Agreed. But then you can’t go find Pansy because I don’t want to have sex with you just yet,” I replied.
“Don’t be so sure about that, Red. Don’t be so sure,” Draco drawled.
It all started with a scarf, but then it became so much more and we were both grateful for that. My relationship with Draco will always be there, that I’m sure of. What happens in between, I’m not so sure.
It was odd how white the sky was, peaceful in fact, and you couldn’t really see the snow at all. I could only tell that snow was falling because it landed on my face and eyelashes.
After a few minutes of lying there, I heard Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s constant chatter heading towards the castle. It figures; leave Ron’s invisible sister behind.
I stayed there for a few more minutes and as I was about to get up, I heard a voice say, “You might want to get inside, the storm is going to get much worse.”
I got up and found myself looking into silver eyes. I gave him a small smile, not wanting to insult him after he was being nice and not knowing what to say to a nice Draco Malfoy.
I turned to walk away, but he grabbed my hand.
“What are you doing all the way out here by yourself?” he asked, not a single trace of malice, sarcasm, or loathing in his voice.
“They left me again,” I whispered.
“Well then, why were you lying out in the snow?”
“It’s beautiful.”
I shivered. In one swift movement, he undid the scarf around his neck and handed it to me.
“Thanks,” I smiled. I wrapped the scarf around my neck and started towards the castle, with Draco beside me. We walked in companionable silence and, in a few minutes, we were walking up the steps. He turned to go to the dungeons and I to the towers.
I stopped. “Draco.”
“Yes?” he replied, turning around.
“Your scarf,” I said, unwinding it from around my neck.
“Keep it.”
“Thanks.”
* * *
Later
I was sitting in bed, thinking about our conversation, coughing and sneezing my brains out.
I could hear an argument going on downstairs in the common room and it was only adding to my headache. I tried to make the words out.
“...can go up...see her...want!”
“...my sister...filthy...!
“Ronald!” I knew it was Hermione who said that.
“...Granger will...see her.”
“...she won’t!”
“Yes I will, Ronald, and I don’t want to hear another word about it!” Hermione yelled.
“...broomstick...up there.”
“...mine.”
“Ronald, let him borrow it!” Hermione ordered. She then marched up the stairs and knocked on my door.
“Gin?” she said, opening the door.
“Yes, Hermione?”
“You’ve got a visitor.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. Now I’ll leave you two be,” she said, as she took some dirty soup bowls and walked out.
“Hey, Weasley.”
“Hi, Malfoy. Why are you here?” I asked.
“If you don’t want me here, I’ll leave,” he said turning.
“No. I want you to be here, I’m just surprised that’s all,” I told him.
“I heard you were sick and I just wanted to check in,” he muttered.
“Thanks.”
* * *
For the next week of break, I was confined to my room. Draco came up to see me every day, bringing me food and talking with me. I always knew when he arrived because Ron would always demand (VERY loudly) why he kept coming to see me. Hermione would tell Ron to go polish his broom and to leave Draco alone.
Finally, I was let out of my room and I went to the kitchens to get something good to eat for the first time in a week.
I had just conned a box of brownie mix out of the house elves and was about to bake them when a pair of cool hands slipped over my eyes. I laughed and spun around.
“Hey, you.”
“Hey, yourself,” Draco smiled. “What are you doing?”
“Making brownies. Wanna help?” I didn’t wait for an answer before I said, “Good. Pour in the mix and start stirring.”
“I don’t cook,” came the reply.
“I’ll teach you. It’s just like potions,” I told him. Draco grumbled, but added the brownie mix to the water and oil already in the bowl and started stirring. I cracked two eggs and dropped them in. I waited until he finished stirring and then poured the batter into a pan, put it in the magical oven and set the timer.
“Now what?”
“We wait,” I replied. Meanwhile, we talked and talked and almost forgot about the brownies, but the timer reminded us. I took them out of the oven and cut them. Draco came over and took one, “Mmmm.”
“I’ll say. I’ve been waiting a week to get down here and make something chocolate-y,” I agreed.
“Why are you upset?” Draco asked.
“I’m not upset,” I responded, not quite meeting his gaze.
“You indulge in lots of chocolate when you’re upset. Potter again?”
“I don’t like him any more, I really don’t. It’s just that he says that we’re friends and then he ignores me. Every time I go to talk to him, they all stop speaking, like I can’t be trusted. I’m their friend! They know I am! It’s just not fair!” I confessed, tears starting to drip down my face. “It’s like I was only Ron’s little sister to them, like I was never really friends with them!”
I ran into Draco’s arms and he uncomfortably comforted me.
“Pothead’s a git. I’ve always said that, haven’t I? And I’m always right. He’s not worth your tears, Ginny,” Draco soothed in his Prince of Slytherin way.
“I just... they make me feel so alone!” I sobbed.
“I’m here, aren’t I?” he said, with--could it be?--hurt in his voice.
I nodded, stopping my tears, “Thank you for being here. And you know that I meant, before you started talking to me, that I was all alone.”
“I know.”
* * *
“I don’t like you hanging out with him, Ginny,” Ron told me.
“I don’t care whether you like it or not, because he’s a better friend than the whole Gryffindor tower put together!” I yelled. I was so tired of my brother being over-protective when there was no need to be. I stormed over to the Slytherin table and plopped down next to Draco.
“What are you doing, Weaselette?” Blaise Zabini sneered.
“Shut the hell up, Blaise,” Draco snapped. “What’s wrong?” he asked, seeing the tears forming in my eyes.
“Ron,” I said in a monotone, blinking back the tears, and grabbing a piece of toast. I inhaled the toast and went for another piece.
“Care to elaborate?” Draco asked.
“He’s trying to forbid me from being friends with you,” I grumbled, sending Ron a death glare.
“And...”
“And I told him that you’ve been a better friend in two weeks than all of Gryffindor tower put together in the past six years,” I replied.
“Oh.”
“Well, it’s true and he--he--ugh! I just can’t deal with him right now, so I’m sitting here. Do you mind?” I rambled, grabbing some pancakes and slathering syrup on them.
“Yes,” Blaise snapped.
“Shut. The hell. Up, Blaise!” Draco yelled. “No, I don’t mind,” he drawled.
“Good. Because I’ve decided that I like sitting here a lot more than sitting there.”
“You can sit here every day if you like,” Draco smiled. Blaise sat next to him with his mouth hanging open, sputtering, and looking furious.
I laughed, “Sounds like a plan.”
“I can’t believe I forgot my manners. Blaise, this is Ginny Weasley. Ginny, this is Blaise Zabini,” Draco smirked. I grinned and held my hand out to Blaise. He numbly shook it and looked at Draco in disbelief.
I finished my pancakes quickly and asked Draco if he wanted to go for a walk by the lake. He nodded, grabbing an apple as we left.
He munched on his apple while I pulled his Slytherin scarf (I still hadn’t returned it) closer around my neck.
“Cold?” he asked.
“A little,” I responded. He put his arm around me and hugged me closer to him. I leaned into his touch and breathed in his expensive cologne. It reminded me of a muggle store called Abercrombie that Hermione took me too once. I loved the smell of that store.
“Much better,” I breathed. I stopped walking, he followed suit and quirked an eyebrow, asking, “What?”
I looked at his perfectly pale face, the wind blowing snow around him and tousling his silver-blond hair. He looked like an angel.
I took a cautious step towards him and then another. I slowly reached up and pushed a tendril of his hair out of his perfect sophisticated face and kissed him. He immediately responded and I grinned against his perfect lips. His tongue brushed along my bottom lip and I happily opened up to him.
After about a good minute of snogging, we came up for air.
“Mmm, apple,” I whispered, kissing him tentatively. He kissed me back with fervor and it made my knees go weak. Draco caught me and held me against him firmly.
“I could get used to this,” I mumbled against his neck.
“You’d better, because I don’t fancy the idea of you going back to Pothead,” Draco grumbled.
“Agreed. But then you can’t go find Pansy because I don’t want to have sex with you just yet,” I replied.
“Don’t be so sure about that, Red. Don’t be so sure,” Draco drawled.
It all started with a scarf, but then it became so much more and we were both grateful for that. My relationship with Draco will always be there, that I’m sure of. What happens in between, I’m not so sure.
Author notes: One of my most recent fics, but my second that I actually submitted. This one is my favorite though because its nice and fluffy, but it's not pointless.
The End.
SMichaelM is the author of 4 other stories.
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This story is a favorite of 5 members. Members who liked Don't Be So Sure also liked 1184 other stories.
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