Ginny stared at herself in the mirror. She tugged at her red hair, twisting it into a bun and then letting it fall back over her shoulders. She leaned across the dresser and peered at her reflection, tracing the underside of her right eyebrow.
I’m so plain. My hair is dull and boring. My eyes are too large and my lips too thin. My shoulders are too broad...like Charlie’s.
She hadn’t cared about her appearance too much before. She often looked as though she’d just jumped out of bed. She would roll her eyes at the girls who would use long periods of time to charm their hair and makeup.
But things were different now.
I have a boy to look nice for. A goofy grin spread across her face at the thought.
She’d dated boys before, but again, it hadn’t bothered her then. Seeing Draco Malfoy constantly dressed to impress, and acting as though it came to him with such ease, was slightly intimidating.
Ginny sucked in her cheeks slightly. I almost look classy.
She relaxed her face. It was no use. She didn’t know how to look pretty. And she certainly wasn’t going to ask one of her housemates for advice. The gossip mongers would ask too many questions.
She sighed and headed downstairs into the Common Room where the familiar voices of Harry, Ron, and Hermione could be heard.
“I just don’t understand,” Harry was saying, sitting on a couch next to Ron. “I can never see him on it anymore. It’s as though he’s just disap-”
The three of them turned to stare at Ginny. Hermione was sitting in an armchair with a Potions textbook. “Hello, Ginny.”
“What’s going on?” Ginny asked, shoving Ron over to take a seat next to him.
Ron screwed his face up, as though the question were too difficult for him to answer.
“Just the usual,” Hermione said smoothly, her eyes never leaving the textbook.
Ginny sighed inwardly. Always the outsider.
“Hey, Ginny,” Harry asked thoughtfully.
She peered around Ron to look at him in response.
“You have Muggle Studies with Malfoy, don’t you?”
Ginny’s heart skipped a beat. Did he know something? It’s okay…play it cool.
She rolled her eyes. “You needn’t remind me.”
Harry gave her a sympathetic smile. “Does he behave unusually in any way?”
If by ‘unusual’ you mean deliciously sexy. Ginny’s heart resumed beating. Of course! Harry had been obsessing over Draco since the start of the term.
She shook her head. “No. Why do you ask?”
“Harry thinks Malfoy’s up to something,” Ron said, sinking back into the couch.
“And you don’t?” Ginny asked, trying to appear nonchalant.
Ron looked at Harry awkwardly. “Well, I think we need more evidence…”
Harry scowled at him.
“How did your presentation go with him?” Hermione asked, looking over the edge of her book.
“It was okay. He finally pulled his weight in and we received high marks on the assignment.”
“I still don’t understand why he’s taking the class.” Hermione bit her lip in thought.
Come to think of it, Ginny didn’t know either. She really didn’t know much about Draco. You know he has really nice arms…
“He probably failed something,” Ron said. “I bet it was Care of Magical Creatures.”
“See, I don’t think so,” Hermione said, closing her book. “Malfoy is actually quite clever.”
Both Ron and Harry gaped at her.
She waved both of them off. “He’s second in our year. Not too far behind me.” She blushed.
“Won-Won!” Lavender Brown’s voice echoed throughout the Common Room as the blonde girl burst in and threw her arms around Ron’s neck from behind, nearly dragging him off the couch. He looked thoroughly embarrassed.
Harry disguised a laugh as a cough and Hermione stiffened. Ginny, not wanting to see her brother’s girlfriend manhandling him, excused herself and left the Gryffindor Tower.
She headed towards the library, hoping to utilize the time for studying. She found a table to herself and immersed herself in her History of Magic textbook.
She’d only been reading for a few minutes when she recognized the sound of Draco’s voice not too far away. She straightened up and strained her ears.
“That essay is due tomorrow. What do you mean you haven’t done anything yet?” Draco’s voice echoed impatiently.
A second voice grunted incoherently in response.
“I swear,” Draco said, “sometimes I wonder how I put up with you and Goyle.”
She could hear them getting closer and didn’t want to be caught looking at him, so she forced herself to stare at the words in her book that were quickly becoming a blur.
When Draco and Crabbe walked by her table, Ginny snuck the briefest of glances at him. Ginny wasn’t sure what she was expecting. Obviously he couldn’t wave at her. Even a nod would’ve been risky. But she had hoped he would’ve at least looked at her. Instead he had walked by the table without even acknowledging it or her.
She sighed and resigned herself to staring at the blur of words in front of her once more.
Don’t be such a girl. You knew what you were getting into. And why are you getting so attached?
A whirring sound caught her attention. A paper dragon flew in front of her face and hovered in midair. The dragon’s wings flapped unsteadily in an attempt to keep itself upright. She grabbed for the peculiar creation and once her fingers grazed the paper, it unfolded into a piece of parchment and fluttered onto the table. Her heart beat rapidly as she recognized Draco’s neat penmanship.
Just thought I’d say hello.
Ginny felt her heart catch in her throat. A small smile played on her lips as she reluctantly cast a spell to disintegrate the note.
Ginny finished reading and began to head out of the library. She caught sight of Draco sitting carelessly on the floor in-between two bookshelves. There were books strewn about him as he flipped through a thick volume, his face concealed by his blond hair. She looked around to make sure no one was nearby and made her way towards him.
He looked up at the sound of her footsteps. Once again, she fooled herself into thinking he’d be pleased to see her, but instead his expression remained blank.
“What are you doing?” he hissed, looking around warily.
“You’re sitting among old historical records,” she said simply. “Nobody ever comes by here.”
He seemed to relax slightly as he slammed the book he was reading shut, but he gave no indication of inviting her to join him. She took a seat across from him, casually looking at the books scattered around him.
“What are you reading up on?”
“Just stuff.” He still appeared reserved.
She picked up one book, but he snatched it from her.
“Don’t,” he said, almost maliciously. He held the book against himself possessively and his expression became hard.
Ginny remained unfazed and shrugged. “Thank you for the note. That paper dragon was really clever.”
There was a trace of a smile on his face as he held his chin up haughtily. “What note?”
Oh how she wanted to take his lips into her own. She loved it when he was snarky with her.
“Well, I don’t expect you to share your reading material with me, and I can see you’re busy.” She rose to her feet.
He looked hesitant, as if deliberating something. “Wait.”
She stared at him pointedly.
“It’s a record of British casualties during the Second Great Muggle War.” He said it too quickly, as though it would’ve been too painful to have drawn it out. He stared at the book in his hands and refused to meet her eyes.
Ginny was taken aback. Why would he be reading about that? But she could tell he’d struggled with revealing this information to her, so she attempted to mask her disbelief.
He sighed. “There were quite a few Wizards that perished during the air raids.”
Ginny sank back to her feet. I know.
“There’s a Malfoy and a Black in here.” He opened the book and flipped through the pages to find the records. “In fact, I think I even saw a-”
“A Prewett.”
He met her gaze and a deafening quiet filled the air.
“He was my great-grandfather.”
“I’m sorry.”
She shrugged.
Another silence.
“Which of your ancestors are on the list?” she asked, more for the sake of filling the awkward moment between them. The subject made her feel uncomfortable.
“Cyngus Black I was my great-great-grandfather. And my great-uncle, Adrian Malfoy also died.”
Ginny didn’t know what to say so she looked at the other books around him. “What are all those?”
He blushed slightly. “I like reading Muggle history. It’s interesting to see how they explain magical occurrences and how some of our people pass off as their kind.”
She raised an eyebrow at him and she stifled a giggle.
“Go on, have your laugh,” he said.
“Why would I laugh?” she said, covering her lips with her fingertips in an attempt to conceal a smile. Her eyes danced with humor.
He rolled his eyes.
She scooted closer to him so that she was sitting a few inches away, their knees almost touching, and her back pressed against a bookshelf. She reached for a book. “May I?”
He hesitated for a moment before picking up the book himself. “I want to show you something.”
Ginny watched him flip through the book. His hair had fallen into his eyes and his determination with the book kept him from brushing it back. Her heart thudded in her chest.
“Here,” he said, trying his best not to sound too excited. He stopped at a page with a photograph of two unfamiliar men shaking hands. One was obviously a wizard, wearing old-fashioned robes and a bowler hat, quite similar to the one Cornelius Fudge would wear. The two men briefly turned to stare at the camera. The wizard had a small smile on his face as he clapped his companion on the back. The other man, balding and dressed in Muggle clothing, tightened his lips and raised his chin.
“Who are they?” she asked without bothering to read the caption.
“The wizard is the Minister of Magic, Magnus Cavanaugh. The Muggle is the English prime minister, Winston Churchill.”
Ginny nodded thoughtfully. She’d always found it intriguing how every Minister of Magic was expected to introduce themselves to the Muggle ministers. It must be quite an announcement to hear, she thought. She wondered what they would say. Hello there, I’m a wizard…and I err…have magic?
“They met because of the Second Great Muggle War. Churchill wanted to inform Cavanaugh that Britain was under attack.”
“We didn’t…participate in the war, did we?” Ginny asked incredulously.
Draco’s cheeks tinged pink slightly. He seemed pleased by Ginny’s interest. “We did. Well, some wizards volunteered their services to the British military.”
Ginny looked horrified.
“They didn’t use magic or anything. They fought like Muggles.”
“But why?”
“If you read up on Adolf Hitler you’ll find that he was quite the bigot. He refused to meet with the German Minister of Magic and actually told him to get lost or the Nazis would hunt down and kill every last wizard. A few German wizards perished in the concentration camps. And if he moved into Britain…”
“I had no idea,” Ginny whispered.
She noticed he was blushing even more as he turned his head away from her. She placed a hand on his elbow.
“Draco, why do you read all this?”
He didn’t respond at first and refused to meet her eye. “I don’t know. I just like history, I suppose.”
“Even Muggle history?”
He turned to stare at her, his eyes narrowed. “It’s not just Muggle history. This is our history as well. Those foolish Muggles and their foolish weapons...”
“Wizards can be foolish as well,” she said, her voice rising slightly as she released his elbow.
“Not this again.” He groaned and ran a hand through his hair.
“I don’t understand,” Ginny said, looking him in the eye. “So you like reading up on all the nasty things Muggles have done to their own kind and to wizards as well. You even talk about Adolf Hitler like he’s vermin. And yet you fail to accept the fact that there’s bad wizards who do terrible things to their own kind, as well as to Muggles, and who follow behind an equally bad leader.”
“I’m not going to talk to you about this,” he gritted through his teeth. He looked menacing, like the time he cornered her in the broom closet.
Ginny sighed. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I just don’t…get it.”
“There’s nothing to get,” he said, collecting the books together. “I simply wanted to share something with you and it becomes a big deal.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off, pointing at her with the corner of a book. “You knew whatever we were getting ourselves into wasn’t going to be easy. You knew I wasn’t going to be like Saint Potter and save the world. There is a part of my life you can never be a part of because you will never understand it. You just need to accept that or leave.”
He nearly spat the last few words out.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. Her apology seemed to surprise him. “And you’re right; I do know all those things. That’s why I’m sitting here right now.”
There was an awkward silence between them. Ginny noticed a book next to her and she was about to hand it to him when the title caught her attention.
Winston and Clementine: The Personal Letters of the Churchills*
“What’s this?” she asked. There was something odd about the book. The cover featured a photograph of an elderly couple holding hands. It took her a moment to realize they weren’t moving, as was characteristic of all wizard photographs. It was a Muggle book.
“It’s not from this library,” he said, blushing once again. He took the book from her and pocketed it in his robes.
“Tell me.” She liked this side of Draco. It was…different. He thought he came off as weak and vulnerable, when in reality, Ginny was drawn towards his humanism. Truth be told, she found him the most attractive this way.
“No, it’s nothing,” he mumbled while absently straightening the stack of books in front of him.
She took one of his hands intertwined it in hers. “Of all the Dracos you can be, I want to know this one.”
He stared at her for a moment, as if searching for her sincerity. “Winston Churchill is the Muggle prime minister I told you about,” he began. “And Clementine is his wife.”
“And?”
“And the book includes letters exchanged between the two of them.”
“Love letters?” she asked this with the straightest of faces, but she was struggling to keep her mouth from quivering into a smile.
He made a face at her. “Yes, some.”
“Why, Draco Malfoy! You’re a romantic sap after all.”
He furrowed his brow and frowned. “If that’s what you think, then you’re bloody mad.”
“May I see some of the letters?” she asked.
“Not if you’re going to take a hand at me.”
“I won’t, I promise,” Ginny insisted. A warm sensation was beginning to bubble inside her.
He pulled the book out of his robes and handed it to her. She sat next to him in silence for a moment as she flipped through the pages, taking in the correspondence between a dead husband and wife.
She didn’t particularly have much interest in reading any of the letters, but she could feel Draco’s eyes boring into her, hoping that she wouldn’t let him down by berating him. Her reaction mattered to him. She decided to read one passage.
My own Darling,
If you will only listen a tiny bit to me I know...that you will prevail & that some day perhaps soon, perhaps not for 5 years, you will have a great & commanding position in this country. You will be held in the people's hearts & in their respect. I have no originality or brilliancy but I feel within me the power to help you now if you will let me. Just because I am ordinary & love you I know what is right for you & good for you in the end.
Your devoted loving,
Clemmie
“I like that one,” he said, peering over her shoulder. “This was written before he became minister.”
It was Ginny’s turn to be quiet for a moment. She didn’t know what to say. She was moved by Clementine’s endearing and supportive words for her husband. But she was more moved by Draco’s interest in it.
“Why do you read this?”
“I told you, I enjoy history,” he said impatiently.
“But why this book?”
He shrugged. “It has to do with Churchill, and I rather like reading about him…and Cavanaugh,” he added quickly.
She let the book drop onto the floor with a soft thud and took Draco’s face with both hands. His face felt warm against her touch. They stared at each other for a moment. She could see him. It was like falling into his soul. This wasn’t the nasty, bigoted, arrogant prat she had known all these years. Instead, she found a beautiful person struggling to find light in a world of darkness.
I’m so plain. My hair is dull and boring. My eyes are too large and my lips too thin. My shoulders are too broad...like Charlie’s.
She hadn’t cared about her appearance too much before. She often looked as though she’d just jumped out of bed. She would roll her eyes at the girls who would use long periods of time to charm their hair and makeup.
But things were different now.
I have a boy to look nice for. A goofy grin spread across her face at the thought.
She’d dated boys before, but again, it hadn’t bothered her then. Seeing Draco Malfoy constantly dressed to impress, and acting as though it came to him with such ease, was slightly intimidating.
Ginny sucked in her cheeks slightly. I almost look classy.
She relaxed her face. It was no use. She didn’t know how to look pretty. And she certainly wasn’t going to ask one of her housemates for advice. The gossip mongers would ask too many questions.
She sighed and headed downstairs into the Common Room where the familiar voices of Harry, Ron, and Hermione could be heard.
“I just don’t understand,” Harry was saying, sitting on a couch next to Ron. “I can never see him on it anymore. It’s as though he’s just disap-”
The three of them turned to stare at Ginny. Hermione was sitting in an armchair with a Potions textbook. “Hello, Ginny.”
“What’s going on?” Ginny asked, shoving Ron over to take a seat next to him.
Ron screwed his face up, as though the question were too difficult for him to answer.
“Just the usual,” Hermione said smoothly, her eyes never leaving the textbook.
Ginny sighed inwardly. Always the outsider.
“Hey, Ginny,” Harry asked thoughtfully.
She peered around Ron to look at him in response.
“You have Muggle Studies with Malfoy, don’t you?”
Ginny’s heart skipped a beat. Did he know something? It’s okay…play it cool.
She rolled her eyes. “You needn’t remind me.”
Harry gave her a sympathetic smile. “Does he behave unusually in any way?”
If by ‘unusual’ you mean deliciously sexy. Ginny’s heart resumed beating. Of course! Harry had been obsessing over Draco since the start of the term.
She shook her head. “No. Why do you ask?”
“Harry thinks Malfoy’s up to something,” Ron said, sinking back into the couch.
“And you don’t?” Ginny asked, trying to appear nonchalant.
Ron looked at Harry awkwardly. “Well, I think we need more evidence…”
Harry scowled at him.
“How did your presentation go with him?” Hermione asked, looking over the edge of her book.
“It was okay. He finally pulled his weight in and we received high marks on the assignment.”
“I still don’t understand why he’s taking the class.” Hermione bit her lip in thought.
Come to think of it, Ginny didn’t know either. She really didn’t know much about Draco. You know he has really nice arms…
“He probably failed something,” Ron said. “I bet it was Care of Magical Creatures.”
“See, I don’t think so,” Hermione said, closing her book. “Malfoy is actually quite clever.”
Both Ron and Harry gaped at her.
She waved both of them off. “He’s second in our year. Not too far behind me.” She blushed.
“Won-Won!” Lavender Brown’s voice echoed throughout the Common Room as the blonde girl burst in and threw her arms around Ron’s neck from behind, nearly dragging him off the couch. He looked thoroughly embarrassed.
Harry disguised a laugh as a cough and Hermione stiffened. Ginny, not wanting to see her brother’s girlfriend manhandling him, excused herself and left the Gryffindor Tower.
She headed towards the library, hoping to utilize the time for studying. She found a table to herself and immersed herself in her History of Magic textbook.
She’d only been reading for a few minutes when she recognized the sound of Draco’s voice not too far away. She straightened up and strained her ears.
“That essay is due tomorrow. What do you mean you haven’t done anything yet?” Draco’s voice echoed impatiently.
A second voice grunted incoherently in response.
“I swear,” Draco said, “sometimes I wonder how I put up with you and Goyle.”
She could hear them getting closer and didn’t want to be caught looking at him, so she forced herself to stare at the words in her book that were quickly becoming a blur.
When Draco and Crabbe walked by her table, Ginny snuck the briefest of glances at him. Ginny wasn’t sure what she was expecting. Obviously he couldn’t wave at her. Even a nod would’ve been risky. But she had hoped he would’ve at least looked at her. Instead he had walked by the table without even acknowledging it or her.
She sighed and resigned herself to staring at the blur of words in front of her once more.
Don’t be such a girl. You knew what you were getting into. And why are you getting so attached?
A whirring sound caught her attention. A paper dragon flew in front of her face and hovered in midair. The dragon’s wings flapped unsteadily in an attempt to keep itself upright. She grabbed for the peculiar creation and once her fingers grazed the paper, it unfolded into a piece of parchment and fluttered onto the table. Her heart beat rapidly as she recognized Draco’s neat penmanship.
Just thought I’d say hello.
Ginny felt her heart catch in her throat. A small smile played on her lips as she reluctantly cast a spell to disintegrate the note.
Ginny finished reading and began to head out of the library. She caught sight of Draco sitting carelessly on the floor in-between two bookshelves. There were books strewn about him as he flipped through a thick volume, his face concealed by his blond hair. She looked around to make sure no one was nearby and made her way towards him.
He looked up at the sound of her footsteps. Once again, she fooled herself into thinking he’d be pleased to see her, but instead his expression remained blank.
“What are you doing?” he hissed, looking around warily.
“You’re sitting among old historical records,” she said simply. “Nobody ever comes by here.”
He seemed to relax slightly as he slammed the book he was reading shut, but he gave no indication of inviting her to join him. She took a seat across from him, casually looking at the books scattered around him.
“What are you reading up on?”
“Just stuff.” He still appeared reserved.
She picked up one book, but he snatched it from her.
“Don’t,” he said, almost maliciously. He held the book against himself possessively and his expression became hard.
Ginny remained unfazed and shrugged. “Thank you for the note. That paper dragon was really clever.”
There was a trace of a smile on his face as he held his chin up haughtily. “What note?”
Oh how she wanted to take his lips into her own. She loved it when he was snarky with her.
“Well, I don’t expect you to share your reading material with me, and I can see you’re busy.” She rose to her feet.
He looked hesitant, as if deliberating something. “Wait.”
She stared at him pointedly.
“It’s a record of British casualties during the Second Great Muggle War.” He said it too quickly, as though it would’ve been too painful to have drawn it out. He stared at the book in his hands and refused to meet her eyes.
Ginny was taken aback. Why would he be reading about that? But she could tell he’d struggled with revealing this information to her, so she attempted to mask her disbelief.
He sighed. “There were quite a few Wizards that perished during the air raids.”
Ginny sank back to her feet. I know.
“There’s a Malfoy and a Black in here.” He opened the book and flipped through the pages to find the records. “In fact, I think I even saw a-”
“A Prewett.”
He met her gaze and a deafening quiet filled the air.
“He was my great-grandfather.”
“I’m sorry.”
She shrugged.
Another silence.
“Which of your ancestors are on the list?” she asked, more for the sake of filling the awkward moment between them. The subject made her feel uncomfortable.
“Cyngus Black I was my great-great-grandfather. And my great-uncle, Adrian Malfoy also died.”
Ginny didn’t know what to say so she looked at the other books around him. “What are all those?”
He blushed slightly. “I like reading Muggle history. It’s interesting to see how they explain magical occurrences and how some of our people pass off as their kind.”
She raised an eyebrow at him and she stifled a giggle.
“Go on, have your laugh,” he said.
“Why would I laugh?” she said, covering her lips with her fingertips in an attempt to conceal a smile. Her eyes danced with humor.
He rolled his eyes.
She scooted closer to him so that she was sitting a few inches away, their knees almost touching, and her back pressed against a bookshelf. She reached for a book. “May I?”
He hesitated for a moment before picking up the book himself. “I want to show you something.”
Ginny watched him flip through the book. His hair had fallen into his eyes and his determination with the book kept him from brushing it back. Her heart thudded in her chest.
“Here,” he said, trying his best not to sound too excited. He stopped at a page with a photograph of two unfamiliar men shaking hands. One was obviously a wizard, wearing old-fashioned robes and a bowler hat, quite similar to the one Cornelius Fudge would wear. The two men briefly turned to stare at the camera. The wizard had a small smile on his face as he clapped his companion on the back. The other man, balding and dressed in Muggle clothing, tightened his lips and raised his chin.
“Who are they?” she asked without bothering to read the caption.
“The wizard is the Minister of Magic, Magnus Cavanaugh. The Muggle is the English prime minister, Winston Churchill.”
Ginny nodded thoughtfully. She’d always found it intriguing how every Minister of Magic was expected to introduce themselves to the Muggle ministers. It must be quite an announcement to hear, she thought. She wondered what they would say. Hello there, I’m a wizard…and I err…have magic?
“They met because of the Second Great Muggle War. Churchill wanted to inform Cavanaugh that Britain was under attack.”
“We didn’t…participate in the war, did we?” Ginny asked incredulously.
Draco’s cheeks tinged pink slightly. He seemed pleased by Ginny’s interest. “We did. Well, some wizards volunteered their services to the British military.”
Ginny looked horrified.
“They didn’t use magic or anything. They fought like Muggles.”
“But why?”
“If you read up on Adolf Hitler you’ll find that he was quite the bigot. He refused to meet with the German Minister of Magic and actually told him to get lost or the Nazis would hunt down and kill every last wizard. A few German wizards perished in the concentration camps. And if he moved into Britain…”
“I had no idea,” Ginny whispered.
She noticed he was blushing even more as he turned his head away from her. She placed a hand on his elbow.
“Draco, why do you read all this?”
He didn’t respond at first and refused to meet her eye. “I don’t know. I just like history, I suppose.”
“Even Muggle history?”
He turned to stare at her, his eyes narrowed. “It’s not just Muggle history. This is our history as well. Those foolish Muggles and their foolish weapons...”
“Wizards can be foolish as well,” she said, her voice rising slightly as she released his elbow.
“Not this again.” He groaned and ran a hand through his hair.
“I don’t understand,” Ginny said, looking him in the eye. “So you like reading up on all the nasty things Muggles have done to their own kind and to wizards as well. You even talk about Adolf Hitler like he’s vermin. And yet you fail to accept the fact that there’s bad wizards who do terrible things to their own kind, as well as to Muggles, and who follow behind an equally bad leader.”
“I’m not going to talk to you about this,” he gritted through his teeth. He looked menacing, like the time he cornered her in the broom closet.
Ginny sighed. “I’m not trying to make you feel bad. I just don’t…get it.”
“There’s nothing to get,” he said, collecting the books together. “I simply wanted to share something with you and it becomes a big deal.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off, pointing at her with the corner of a book. “You knew whatever we were getting ourselves into wasn’t going to be easy. You knew I wasn’t going to be like Saint Potter and save the world. There is a part of my life you can never be a part of because you will never understand it. You just need to accept that or leave.”
He nearly spat the last few words out.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. Her apology seemed to surprise him. “And you’re right; I do know all those things. That’s why I’m sitting here right now.”
There was an awkward silence between them. Ginny noticed a book next to her and she was about to hand it to him when the title caught her attention.
Winston and Clementine: The Personal Letters of the Churchills*
“What’s this?” she asked. There was something odd about the book. The cover featured a photograph of an elderly couple holding hands. It took her a moment to realize they weren’t moving, as was characteristic of all wizard photographs. It was a Muggle book.
“It’s not from this library,” he said, blushing once again. He took the book from her and pocketed it in his robes.
“Tell me.” She liked this side of Draco. It was…different. He thought he came off as weak and vulnerable, when in reality, Ginny was drawn towards his humanism. Truth be told, she found him the most attractive this way.
“No, it’s nothing,” he mumbled while absently straightening the stack of books in front of him.
She took one of his hands intertwined it in hers. “Of all the Dracos you can be, I want to know this one.”
He stared at her for a moment, as if searching for her sincerity. “Winston Churchill is the Muggle prime minister I told you about,” he began. “And Clementine is his wife.”
“And?”
“And the book includes letters exchanged between the two of them.”
“Love letters?” she asked this with the straightest of faces, but she was struggling to keep her mouth from quivering into a smile.
He made a face at her. “Yes, some.”
“Why, Draco Malfoy! You’re a romantic sap after all.”
He furrowed his brow and frowned. “If that’s what you think, then you’re bloody mad.”
“May I see some of the letters?” she asked.
“Not if you’re going to take a hand at me.”
“I won’t, I promise,” Ginny insisted. A warm sensation was beginning to bubble inside her.
He pulled the book out of his robes and handed it to her. She sat next to him in silence for a moment as she flipped through the pages, taking in the correspondence between a dead husband and wife.
She didn’t particularly have much interest in reading any of the letters, but she could feel Draco’s eyes boring into her, hoping that she wouldn’t let him down by berating him. Her reaction mattered to him. She decided to read one passage.
My own Darling,
If you will only listen a tiny bit to me I know...that you will prevail & that some day perhaps soon, perhaps not for 5 years, you will have a great & commanding position in this country. You will be held in the people's hearts & in their respect. I have no originality or brilliancy but I feel within me the power to help you now if you will let me. Just because I am ordinary & love you I know what is right for you & good for you in the end.
Your devoted loving,
Clemmie
“I like that one,” he said, peering over her shoulder. “This was written before he became minister.”
It was Ginny’s turn to be quiet for a moment. She didn’t know what to say. She was moved by Clementine’s endearing and supportive words for her husband. But she was more moved by Draco’s interest in it.
“Why do you read this?”
“I told you, I enjoy history,” he said impatiently.
“But why this book?”
He shrugged. “It has to do with Churchill, and I rather like reading about him…and Cavanaugh,” he added quickly.
She let the book drop onto the floor with a soft thud and took Draco’s face with both hands. His face felt warm against her touch. They stared at each other for a moment. She could see him. It was like falling into his soul. This wasn’t the nasty, bigoted, arrogant prat she had known all these years. Instead, she found a beautiful person struggling to find light in a world of darkness.
Author notes: * This is an actual book written by their daughter, but it was published well after this fanfic takes place. So let's just pretend it works out!
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