Abyss by estherbraga
Truth was that Harry was a gentleman. When they landed on the pitch’s surroundings, he checked if she was okay, concerned if the travel hadn’t troubled her too much. As they continued their promenade between the painted supporters, cheering and chanting, he bought a Cannons’ coloured top hat for himself and for her, he got a Harpies’ scarf, since she’d forgotten hers. During the last couple months, the memories of Harry as a boyfriend had become blurrier. In spite of her efforts to smother them, after one only manifestation of kindness from his part, they got stronger, more pungent than ever. She could try denying it, but he was the best boyfriend for whom she could’ve ever wished.
He was sweet and caring. Whenever anyone needed him, he measured no efforts to help. His selfless nature had always made her proud. At least until his grandeur began to bring light to how little she was.
She’d morphed into this petty, pitiful creature. Bitterness ate her viscera up until no good was left.
Ginny couldn’t remember if he knew she’d been lost. She cried every day: when she failed on her first exam, after every try-out, waking up, at work… Obvious, oblivious tears.
Harry was busy. He had too much on his plate and Ginny knew it wasn’t fair to dish out all of her of problems on his.
Day by day she began missing the words on conversations. She grew so accustomed to the silence she couldn’t finish statements; deliberately started phrases and inhaled all predicaments. What else would she say that could actually add value to any dialogue? If she tried to explain how it hurt, would anyone understand?
Now, looking at Harry’s childish laugh, she shook off all grieving memories. Ginny pushed the troubling images of her meltdown to a corner in her mind; images of when all exploded. Exhaustion had burst through her walls. She stifled on a ball of mucus, sadness and shame. Said bezoar had been rolling in her stomach until she finally had the guts to throw it up.
Ginny recalled his reaction with morbid details: how she had explained they ought to end the hurting cycle she’d imposed on him, and her. He had proposed working through it, helping her. She refused. Ginny couldn’t be saved. She wanted him free from her caustic presence.
A few months later, Harry met Cho. The brunette had come out of a difficult divorce and just wanted to be loved. She was a healer and engaged to a large number of charitable causes. Comprehensive, giving. Simple.
Match made in heaven. Meanwhile, Ginny burnt in her personal suite in hell.
“Are you okay, Ginny? You seem quiet…”, Harry tilted his head down to meet her eye level.
“I’m fine”, she answered politely.
“Are you sure? I know you tend to internalize. Don’t mind sharing. I swear I can take it.”
He sounded concerned. Ginny sighed. She just didn’t want to poke on open wounds.
“You’re tough, Potter. I know that. But I reassure you I’m more than fine. I’m g-r-e-a-t. I’m excited for the game”, he intended to cut her, but she continued “Is Angelina Johnson still on the team? I heard she’d been injured”.
With that, she evaded, brushing his arm fondly. Harry would be fine; she could feel it.
“Oh, she’s going to play today. The Harpies’ new coach gave an interview yesterday to Linus and said she’s fully recovered. The Cannons are going to work harder tonight, their new chasers haven’t performed well, lately. I dare to say they’ve been winning by luck”, Harry replied glad he could share his sports’ knowledge with someone else. Ginny sensed he’d been itching to spill that all out and hadn’t found anyone truly interested.
On some level, Ginny was content she could still make him a tad happier.
Watching the time, the two raced to the stadium gates. Harry casually volunteered to buy their tickets and a distracted Ginny almost revealed he didn’t have to buy hers since she already had one. Without much thought, she’d unconsciously decided to use Malfoy’s gift.
A rare instant of reason saved her. Whether she had told Harry the truth, she would have released a flood of questions she wasn’t prepared to answer. Neither he would be prepared to hear them.
Pretending nonchalance, she offered to purchase the controversial tickets while he grabbed something to drink. He innocently agreed. Disaster averted.
As she walked to the box offices, she exhaled. Deeply.
Clearly, she hadn’t been thinking. For she knew what a bad liar she was. If she dared to initiate such a performance, she would perish miserably. Better to avoid the storytelling.
The redhead then smiled anxiously at the thought of explaining to Harry that Draco Malfoy had given her a present and that she deliberately accepted. ‘He would be thrilled. Maybe he would invite him over for dinner’, she muttered to herself, words soaked in sarcasm.
Ginny had just exited the box office queue when she saw Draco talking to her brother George from afar. She frowned, utterly confused, and kept moving the opposite direction. First, she had to find Harry. Later she would deal with this alternate universe she’d fallen into.
To her despair, George caught a glimpse of her flaming mane amongst the crowd. Ginny cringed, praying out loud not to be called out. He screamed.
Today was her lucky, lucky day.
George lifted her baby sister up high on a playful embrace while Malfoy watched the display of affection visibly amused. ‘He is an only child. He wouldn’t understand it’, she said to herself.
“Hello to you too, George”, she landed not so gracefully and immediately started to tide up her skirts. Thanks to her brother, she was all ruffled up. In front of Malfoy. ‘Way to go, George!’
“Hello Weasley”, Draco greeted between his usual smirks.
“Hello Malfoy”, Ginny responded, avoiding eye contact. This whole dynamic between the two of them weirded her out. They were not nothing to each other. Nonetheless, they were not anything either.
“I wouldn’t take you for a Cannons’ fan”, she unfastened her tongue tie.
“Oh, he’s not, Gin, he just told me he’s here for the Harpies.”, George explained to his sister who couldn’t hide her bewilderment.
It simply wasn’t expected of Draco Malfoy, ex-Death Eater and ex-bully to support an all-female team. Her easiest assumption would be some thuggish, an all-Viktrom Krum lookalikes, squad.
“My mother is an old investor and a passionate supporter of the Harpies. We’ve won a couple of tickets for tonight. Since Azkaban is closed for parties, I’ve decided to come”, Draco restrained a strong laugh as he watched Ginny deepen her stunned reaction. His clarification had been a direct effort to tease her. Her gaping mouth and wide eyes gave him jolts of pleasure; a delightful sensation of a job well done.
“You are funny bastard, Malfoy”, chuckled George, breaking the awkwardness and elbowing Draco’s stomach in childish playfulness. “You shouldn’t joke about shit like that in front of our dad ‘though”.
“He won’t”, added Ginny, this time, staring at the blonde as she let a grin slip from her lips. He locked eyes with her; then both found themselves transported elsewhere. Their connection worked as a telepathic bond. She felt the piece of paper he’d given her burning inside her pocket, imagining he’d probably tricked his own mother so she would have it. He, on the other side of the bridge, enjoyed himself as he realised how rewarding it was catching her off guard.
“Hey Gin, did you see Harry? Ron had told me you were coming with him tonight”, George demolished their fragile link while Ginny cursed internally.
She could feel Draco’s disappointment as she turned to George to explain Harry must had been looking for her. She’d left the poor guy alone, probably with warm butterbeer glasses on his hands.
She was not only a petty person. She was a shitty human being.
George then volunteered to rescue their castaway friend, leaving Ginny to the awkward silence that always preceded a catastrophe.
“So, you are friends with my brothers, now?”, she decided to tear the discomfort apart with her own hands.
“So, are you with Potter, now?”, Draco attempted a comeback.
“Who do you think you are, Malfoy? You can’t possibly be jealous!”, this time, it was Ginny’s turn to strike him. She was, indeed, right. He wasn’t her boyfriend. He wasn’t her friend. He was… Malfoy, the mischievous bastard that annoyed her at school.
“Who do YOU think you are, Weasley? To think I’d be jealous! Spare me of your gigantic ego!”
He screamed. She was fueled with wrath. Both restrained themselves as they figured out they were in a public facility and could easily be mistaken for a bickering couple.
“MY ego? You are the one who is acting like a peacock, showing your fluffy tail because you’ve inherited seats for a fucking Quidditch game!”, Ginny spat on a forcefully muttering tone at a decreasingly choleric Malfoy.
“Peacock? What’s wrong with you? I gave you the damn ticket so you could have some fun. And you choose to rekindle your miserable relationship with bloody Potter?”, he argued, this time, with a disarming laugh. Amid the craziness, Draco couldn’t help noticing how funny she looked, waving her arms, knifing the air. In the heat of the moment, she’d even emulated a peacock’s feathers bouncing with nothing more than her hands behind her back. She was quite an actress.
The youngest Weasley was already out of herself when the blonde broke into laughter. Suddenly, she couldn’t yell anymore. Involuntarily, her mouth moved upwards as well. The whole situation was so nonsensical she didn’t bother fighting it.
Ridiculous Malfoy, why was he doing that to her? Trying to drive her insane?
“Harry is with Cho, idiot! Haven’t I told a million times I’ve broken up with him? Besides, why do you care?”, Ginny replied amongst repressed giggles. She couldn’t understand what was so funny. Against all common sense, tears of laughter began to sparkle on her amber eyes.
Was he actually jealous? Or was he just nourishing the same old rivalry between him and Harry?
Ginny couldn’t say. Neither could Draco. Malfoy hated Potter. And would despise him for all his life. This was marked on his skin deeper than the Dark Mark itself. But now, he began to doubt what mattered the most: hurting Potter or preventing little Weasley from getting hurt.
This strange protective side pushed him to reaching out her lower hands. Controlling the sudden impulse, he bounced back. It wasn’t the right time. From a fair distance, he could see Potter and her brother getting nearer. Albeit his inner desires to appease her, write off his mistakes, there was too much animosity on their pathway. Either they moved back or forward.
The former Slytherin was aware that he’d always be ranked on the archenemy category. Meanwhile, Potter would forever collect the prizes. No matter how hard he softened his manners. Or caressed her temples until the memories of his bully days were completely obliviated.
Draco Malfoy couldn’t fool himself thinking he would morph into a lion when he was a serpent. He just chose not to stifle or poison, hoping that would suffice.
“I’m not friends with your brother. He saw me speaking to one of the Harpies’ beaters and approached me. He was trying to flirt with her and I introduced them… You’re welcome, Weasley”, yet sometimes, Draco dropped some venom, a few harmless anecdotes to lighten the mood.
“Weasleys are famous for their ineptitude at dating”, Ginny confessed as Draco recollected himself from his pretending curtsy.
“You certainly aren’t inept at flirting.”
“Because I got Harry? Please, I thought we’d finished this argument”, she returned to an alert state of indecisive anger. Draco drove her mad with all this infuriating mockery alternated by supressed displays of kindness.
“Well, you said yourself you’ve dumped him. But I was I referring to your long list of conquests and broken hearts at Hogwarts”, he teased amusingly.
“I hadn’t even talked to most of my Hogwarts ‘conquests’, as you call them. Let alone break their hearts.”, she said in naïve honesty.
“I knew it. You were a man-eater. Chapeau, Weasley. Chapeau!”, he applauded, removing an invisible hat from his head, bowing in fake chivalry, “Tell me, Weasley, did someone break yours? Potter? Thomas?”, he mocked, leaning a bit closer, placing his hand on his ear, pretending it was their secret.
“No one can break what is already broken”, Ginny’s words slipped from her mouth without much thinking. There was something about Malfoy that freed her soul from the social constraints. It made no exclusions: whether her best or her worst, all poured out of her when he was around. Veritaserum wouldn’t be that efficient.
As Harry and George reached them out, Ginny’s last words lingered in the air. Draco urged to respond, but felt pressured not to. Potter was the one to blame, always arriving at the worst possible time. The brunette’s presence made his blood boil with rage. However, since everyone remained cordial, he chose to take the higher ground as well.
The group walked towards the stadium talking friendly, hoping to meet Hermione and Ron inside. The conversation shifted from the house elves amendment Hermione had approved earlier that afternoon -- the chaos, the yelling and nearly fist fight inside the courtroom – to what was the most disgusting flavoured bean they’d ever tasted. Even Draco participated (slug slime), despite some crossed looks from an equally disgusted Harry. They reached no consensus.
Ginny gave Harry the ticket she’d just bought and watched him and George rush to their seats. Ron and Hermione had waved at them from not that far away, already accommodated. She was about to follow them when she turned around and met Draco’s eyes. They hid something she couldn’t decipher.
The redhead looked at Draco, inquiringly.
Ginny then discovered he would not join them. His seat was for a different sector, reserved for players’ family and donors only, probably.
Her heart sank. Deep down, she didn’t want him to leave.
She looked at her own ticket and saw him blinking at her. A mix of sensations invaded her. ‘Oh, no’, was all she could think, however.
Ginny had no time to process what was about to happen; because with no second thought, Draco took her hand and led her somewhere else. Suddenly, she was much closer to the pitch she’d ever been.
Albeit her friends and family’s abrupt separation, she couldn’t weigh down the situation. They would be concerned about her, miss her… Meanwhile, Malfoy stood a foot away from her, grinning.
All this mess made her dizzy. A good dizzy ‘though.
The colours were more vibrant and the players less blurry than she’d ever witnessed from her usual seats, a lot higher and further away from where she stood. It felt great to be that kind of rich.
Within seconds, the pre-game started.
One by one, the Holyhead Harpies girls flew away, waving to the bleachers, inflaming the crowd. Ginny stared directly at the players, so enchanted by their moves she could barely breathe. She missed flying. She missed playing. She missed what she once thought could have been her life.
Draco had been standing still, paying attention exclusively to the game, when he caught a glimpse of Ginny’s face. The yellow lights of the stadium gleamed on her hair, blinded by her teary eyes. She was carried away, caught in the moment. He could feel her beaming heart on her sleeve: a whimpering, crying beat.
He did not understand why, but it bothered him how little he knew about the stunning girl right beside him.
“You’re welcome, Weasley”, he took a chance in the dark.
She looked at him, sniffing discretely. And smiled. A weary, but beautiful smile.
“I haven’t thanked you, Malfoy. You do know I’ll have to explain to my whole family why I vanished. I’m so screwed. And it’s your fault”, she defied him on false indignation.
“Again. You’re welcome, Weasley”, there was no fake curtsy this time, just his infuriating smirk.
He was sweet and caring. Whenever anyone needed him, he measured no efforts to help. His selfless nature had always made her proud. At least until his grandeur began to bring light to how little she was.
She’d morphed into this petty, pitiful creature. Bitterness ate her viscera up until no good was left.
Ginny couldn’t remember if he knew she’d been lost. She cried every day: when she failed on her first exam, after every try-out, waking up, at work… Obvious, oblivious tears.
Harry was busy. He had too much on his plate and Ginny knew it wasn’t fair to dish out all of her of problems on his.
Day by day she began missing the words on conversations. She grew so accustomed to the silence she couldn’t finish statements; deliberately started phrases and inhaled all predicaments. What else would she say that could actually add value to any dialogue? If she tried to explain how it hurt, would anyone understand?
Now, looking at Harry’s childish laugh, she shook off all grieving memories. Ginny pushed the troubling images of her meltdown to a corner in her mind; images of when all exploded. Exhaustion had burst through her walls. She stifled on a ball of mucus, sadness and shame. Said bezoar had been rolling in her stomach until she finally had the guts to throw it up.
Ginny recalled his reaction with morbid details: how she had explained they ought to end the hurting cycle she’d imposed on him, and her. He had proposed working through it, helping her. She refused. Ginny couldn’t be saved. She wanted him free from her caustic presence.
A few months later, Harry met Cho. The brunette had come out of a difficult divorce and just wanted to be loved. She was a healer and engaged to a large number of charitable causes. Comprehensive, giving. Simple.
Match made in heaven. Meanwhile, Ginny burnt in her personal suite in hell.
“Are you okay, Ginny? You seem quiet…”, Harry tilted his head down to meet her eye level.
“I’m fine”, she answered politely.
“Are you sure? I know you tend to internalize. Don’t mind sharing. I swear I can take it.”
He sounded concerned. Ginny sighed. She just didn’t want to poke on open wounds.
“You’re tough, Potter. I know that. But I reassure you I’m more than fine. I’m g-r-e-a-t. I’m excited for the game”, he intended to cut her, but she continued “Is Angelina Johnson still on the team? I heard she’d been injured”.
With that, she evaded, brushing his arm fondly. Harry would be fine; she could feel it.
“Oh, she’s going to play today. The Harpies’ new coach gave an interview yesterday to Linus and said she’s fully recovered. The Cannons are going to work harder tonight, their new chasers haven’t performed well, lately. I dare to say they’ve been winning by luck”, Harry replied glad he could share his sports’ knowledge with someone else. Ginny sensed he’d been itching to spill that all out and hadn’t found anyone truly interested.
On some level, Ginny was content she could still make him a tad happier.
Watching the time, the two raced to the stadium gates. Harry casually volunteered to buy their tickets and a distracted Ginny almost revealed he didn’t have to buy hers since she already had one. Without much thought, she’d unconsciously decided to use Malfoy’s gift.
A rare instant of reason saved her. Whether she had told Harry the truth, she would have released a flood of questions she wasn’t prepared to answer. Neither he would be prepared to hear them.
Pretending nonchalance, she offered to purchase the controversial tickets while he grabbed something to drink. He innocently agreed. Disaster averted.
As she walked to the box offices, she exhaled. Deeply.
Clearly, she hadn’t been thinking. For she knew what a bad liar she was. If she dared to initiate such a performance, she would perish miserably. Better to avoid the storytelling.
The redhead then smiled anxiously at the thought of explaining to Harry that Draco Malfoy had given her a present and that she deliberately accepted. ‘He would be thrilled. Maybe he would invite him over for dinner’, she muttered to herself, words soaked in sarcasm.
Ginny had just exited the box office queue when she saw Draco talking to her brother George from afar. She frowned, utterly confused, and kept moving the opposite direction. First, she had to find Harry. Later she would deal with this alternate universe she’d fallen into.
To her despair, George caught a glimpse of her flaming mane amongst the crowd. Ginny cringed, praying out loud not to be called out. He screamed.
Today was her lucky, lucky day.
George lifted her baby sister up high on a playful embrace while Malfoy watched the display of affection visibly amused. ‘He is an only child. He wouldn’t understand it’, she said to herself.
“Hello to you too, George”, she landed not so gracefully and immediately started to tide up her skirts. Thanks to her brother, she was all ruffled up. In front of Malfoy. ‘Way to go, George!’
“Hello Weasley”, Draco greeted between his usual smirks.
“Hello Malfoy”, Ginny responded, avoiding eye contact. This whole dynamic between the two of them weirded her out. They were not nothing to each other. Nonetheless, they were not anything either.
“I wouldn’t take you for a Cannons’ fan”, she unfastened her tongue tie.
“Oh, he’s not, Gin, he just told me he’s here for the Harpies.”, George explained to his sister who couldn’t hide her bewilderment.
It simply wasn’t expected of Draco Malfoy, ex-Death Eater and ex-bully to support an all-female team. Her easiest assumption would be some thuggish, an all-Viktrom Krum lookalikes, squad.
“My mother is an old investor and a passionate supporter of the Harpies. We’ve won a couple of tickets for tonight. Since Azkaban is closed for parties, I’ve decided to come”, Draco restrained a strong laugh as he watched Ginny deepen her stunned reaction. His clarification had been a direct effort to tease her. Her gaping mouth and wide eyes gave him jolts of pleasure; a delightful sensation of a job well done.
“You are funny bastard, Malfoy”, chuckled George, breaking the awkwardness and elbowing Draco’s stomach in childish playfulness. “You shouldn’t joke about shit like that in front of our dad ‘though”.
“He won’t”, added Ginny, this time, staring at the blonde as she let a grin slip from her lips. He locked eyes with her; then both found themselves transported elsewhere. Their connection worked as a telepathic bond. She felt the piece of paper he’d given her burning inside her pocket, imagining he’d probably tricked his own mother so she would have it. He, on the other side of the bridge, enjoyed himself as he realised how rewarding it was catching her off guard.
“Hey Gin, did you see Harry? Ron had told me you were coming with him tonight”, George demolished their fragile link while Ginny cursed internally.
She could feel Draco’s disappointment as she turned to George to explain Harry must had been looking for her. She’d left the poor guy alone, probably with warm butterbeer glasses on his hands.
She was not only a petty person. She was a shitty human being.
George then volunteered to rescue their castaway friend, leaving Ginny to the awkward silence that always preceded a catastrophe.
“So, you are friends with my brothers, now?”, she decided to tear the discomfort apart with her own hands.
“So, are you with Potter, now?”, Draco attempted a comeback.
“Who do you think you are, Malfoy? You can’t possibly be jealous!”, this time, it was Ginny’s turn to strike him. She was, indeed, right. He wasn’t her boyfriend. He wasn’t her friend. He was… Malfoy, the mischievous bastard that annoyed her at school.
“Who do YOU think you are, Weasley? To think I’d be jealous! Spare me of your gigantic ego!”
He screamed. She was fueled with wrath. Both restrained themselves as they figured out they were in a public facility and could easily be mistaken for a bickering couple.
“MY ego? You are the one who is acting like a peacock, showing your fluffy tail because you’ve inherited seats for a fucking Quidditch game!”, Ginny spat on a forcefully muttering tone at a decreasingly choleric Malfoy.
“Peacock? What’s wrong with you? I gave you the damn ticket so you could have some fun. And you choose to rekindle your miserable relationship with bloody Potter?”, he argued, this time, with a disarming laugh. Amid the craziness, Draco couldn’t help noticing how funny she looked, waving her arms, knifing the air. In the heat of the moment, she’d even emulated a peacock’s feathers bouncing with nothing more than her hands behind her back. She was quite an actress.
The youngest Weasley was already out of herself when the blonde broke into laughter. Suddenly, she couldn’t yell anymore. Involuntarily, her mouth moved upwards as well. The whole situation was so nonsensical she didn’t bother fighting it.
Ridiculous Malfoy, why was he doing that to her? Trying to drive her insane?
“Harry is with Cho, idiot! Haven’t I told a million times I’ve broken up with him? Besides, why do you care?”, Ginny replied amongst repressed giggles. She couldn’t understand what was so funny. Against all common sense, tears of laughter began to sparkle on her amber eyes.
Was he actually jealous? Or was he just nourishing the same old rivalry between him and Harry?
Ginny couldn’t say. Neither could Draco. Malfoy hated Potter. And would despise him for all his life. This was marked on his skin deeper than the Dark Mark itself. But now, he began to doubt what mattered the most: hurting Potter or preventing little Weasley from getting hurt.
This strange protective side pushed him to reaching out her lower hands. Controlling the sudden impulse, he bounced back. It wasn’t the right time. From a fair distance, he could see Potter and her brother getting nearer. Albeit his inner desires to appease her, write off his mistakes, there was too much animosity on their pathway. Either they moved back or forward.
The former Slytherin was aware that he’d always be ranked on the archenemy category. Meanwhile, Potter would forever collect the prizes. No matter how hard he softened his manners. Or caressed her temples until the memories of his bully days were completely obliviated.
Draco Malfoy couldn’t fool himself thinking he would morph into a lion when he was a serpent. He just chose not to stifle or poison, hoping that would suffice.
“I’m not friends with your brother. He saw me speaking to one of the Harpies’ beaters and approached me. He was trying to flirt with her and I introduced them… You’re welcome, Weasley”, yet sometimes, Draco dropped some venom, a few harmless anecdotes to lighten the mood.
“Weasleys are famous for their ineptitude at dating”, Ginny confessed as Draco recollected himself from his pretending curtsy.
“You certainly aren’t inept at flirting.”
“Because I got Harry? Please, I thought we’d finished this argument”, she returned to an alert state of indecisive anger. Draco drove her mad with all this infuriating mockery alternated by supressed displays of kindness.
“Well, you said yourself you’ve dumped him. But I was I referring to your long list of conquests and broken hearts at Hogwarts”, he teased amusingly.
“I hadn’t even talked to most of my Hogwarts ‘conquests’, as you call them. Let alone break their hearts.”, she said in naïve honesty.
“I knew it. You were a man-eater. Chapeau, Weasley. Chapeau!”, he applauded, removing an invisible hat from his head, bowing in fake chivalry, “Tell me, Weasley, did someone break yours? Potter? Thomas?”, he mocked, leaning a bit closer, placing his hand on his ear, pretending it was their secret.
“No one can break what is already broken”, Ginny’s words slipped from her mouth without much thinking. There was something about Malfoy that freed her soul from the social constraints. It made no exclusions: whether her best or her worst, all poured out of her when he was around. Veritaserum wouldn’t be that efficient.
As Harry and George reached them out, Ginny’s last words lingered in the air. Draco urged to respond, but felt pressured not to. Potter was the one to blame, always arriving at the worst possible time. The brunette’s presence made his blood boil with rage. However, since everyone remained cordial, he chose to take the higher ground as well.
The group walked towards the stadium talking friendly, hoping to meet Hermione and Ron inside. The conversation shifted from the house elves amendment Hermione had approved earlier that afternoon -- the chaos, the yelling and nearly fist fight inside the courtroom – to what was the most disgusting flavoured bean they’d ever tasted. Even Draco participated (slug slime), despite some crossed looks from an equally disgusted Harry. They reached no consensus.
Ginny gave Harry the ticket she’d just bought and watched him and George rush to their seats. Ron and Hermione had waved at them from not that far away, already accommodated. She was about to follow them when she turned around and met Draco’s eyes. They hid something she couldn’t decipher.
The redhead looked at Draco, inquiringly.
Ginny then discovered he would not join them. His seat was for a different sector, reserved for players’ family and donors only, probably.
Her heart sank. Deep down, she didn’t want him to leave.
She looked at her own ticket and saw him blinking at her. A mix of sensations invaded her. ‘Oh, no’, was all she could think, however.
Ginny had no time to process what was about to happen; because with no second thought, Draco took her hand and led her somewhere else. Suddenly, she was much closer to the pitch she’d ever been.
Albeit her friends and family’s abrupt separation, she couldn’t weigh down the situation. They would be concerned about her, miss her… Meanwhile, Malfoy stood a foot away from her, grinning.
All this mess made her dizzy. A good dizzy ‘though.
The colours were more vibrant and the players less blurry than she’d ever witnessed from her usual seats, a lot higher and further away from where she stood. It felt great to be that kind of rich.
Within seconds, the pre-game started.
One by one, the Holyhead Harpies girls flew away, waving to the bleachers, inflaming the crowd. Ginny stared directly at the players, so enchanted by their moves she could barely breathe. She missed flying. She missed playing. She missed what she once thought could have been her life.
Draco had been standing still, paying attention exclusively to the game, when he caught a glimpse of Ginny’s face. The yellow lights of the stadium gleamed on her hair, blinded by her teary eyes. She was carried away, caught in the moment. He could feel her beaming heart on her sleeve: a whimpering, crying beat.
He did not understand why, but it bothered him how little he knew about the stunning girl right beside him.
“You’re welcome, Weasley”, he took a chance in the dark.
She looked at him, sniffing discretely. And smiled. A weary, but beautiful smile.
“I haven’t thanked you, Malfoy. You do know I’ll have to explain to my whole family why I vanished. I’m so screwed. And it’s your fault”, she defied him on false indignation.
“Again. You’re welcome, Weasley”, there was no fake curtsy this time, just his infuriating smirk.
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