Ginny Weasley opened the door to the popular pub and was greeted by a warm rush of air bearing the strong scent of liquor. It was just what she needed—a crowded jumble of noisy people where you could go unnoticed or be the life of the party and no one would think twice of it. Today, however, she was in a quiet mood and only wanted to watch the others dance and talk amongst themselves.

She wandered over to the bar and sat herself down in one of the many tall stools that ran along a strip of highly polished black marble. She observed that everyone else sitting at the bar had a drink, so she summoned the bartender and ordered herself a virgin margarita, which had become a favorite of hers since her mother had discovered her secret stockpile of Odgen’s Fire Whiskey hidden beneath her flooring at the Burrow. To make a very long story extremely short, it hadn’t been a pretty scene.

The drink appeared by her right hand with a pop, and she picked up, watching the bluish contents swirl under the influence of her wandless magic. It tasted distinctly like her mother’s infamous raspberry pie. Ginny let her eyes wander down the length of the counter. Another person had just stepped up and sat down—someone all too familiar for her liking. It only took her a moment to recognize Draco Malfoy.

He was staring off in the distance moodily, a lock of platinum hair carelessly left hanging across his face. His attire was just as she always remembered: positively impeccable and yet still casually stylish. Today he had donned a pair of low slung black slacks, obviously of the finest material available, and a silvery green shirt so silky that it made Ginny’s fingers long to touch it. He looked older, not just physically but mentally as well. The once pale skin under his eyes was now unnaturally dark, as if he had not been getting enough sleep. She was just thinking how lonely he looked when he turned and met her eyes.

* * *

Draco Malfoy blinked a few times to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. Ginny Weasley had never looked like this, at least, not to him. Her hair was much longer than it had been when he had last seen her at school the previous year. Then she had with Potter, and against his will he had been jealous. How come Potter got the strong, able, and proud sidekick? All he had was Pansy Parkinson, and then of course Crabbe and Goyle, whom he regarded as plain idiots who barely had enough brains to walk and talk at the same time.

He knew it was the same Ginny, but somehow, she was altogether different. She was quieter and more reserved than he had remembered, and her choice of clothing reflected Draco’s newfound revelation. Her legs were swathed in a long black skirt that reached mid-shin. For a shirt she wore a simple red v-neck that left Draco with a desire he couldn’t quite place. Casual elegance. He thought she was beautiful.

* * *

Draco spoke first.

“Weasley.�

“Malfoy.� Ginny was once again surprised at how tired his voice sounded.

“Haven’t seen you in a while.�

“No. You’re not exactly the type of person I would see on the street corner and strike up a conversation with though, are you? � She saw him flinch and wished her words away instantly.

“Not really.� He paused. “I expect you think I’m the His best mate.�

“What if I do?�

“I wouldn’t blame you. But it’s not true anymore. I’ve done so much wrong that it’ll take twice as much right to fix it all.� Ginny was caught speechless. Was he drunk already? “I’ve done a hell a lot of things wrong, and most of them I can’t turn around. But if there’s one good thing my father taught me, it was how to forget and leave behind. So that’s what I’m doing. Or trying to do, I guess.�

Ginny had not moved. Never had she expected such a morose speech from the likes of Draco Malfoy. She almost believed him, but a small part of her could never forgive the Draco she had known at Hogwarts. Could anyone? She wondered. Then Draco continued.

“I feel like I know everything.� He stopped again, as if to recollect himself. “And everything’s too much, but it’s too late to get rid of it now. So I figure… I don’t know everything until I know love. Then I can destroy this ‘everything.’�

“That’s terrible,� Ginny whispered. What was she thinking? Who was she talking to? This man should be arrested, his soul sucked out of him by dementors, and then sent to hang for all to see. What was she doing just sitting here?

Draco remained silent as well, possibly because he was still in the shock of pouring out his feelings—real, honest feelings—to someone, much less a Weasley.

“Come with me.� She was beyond thinking about her actions, only about following her heart, something she hadn’t done since she was a very little girl chasing butterflies.

Ginny stood up and took Draco’s hand. Her touch was light, but he trailed her like her grip was iron. She didn’t look back as she led him out of the crowded room.

Outside it was much cooler, for the sun had just recently set, leaving behind it only a dark navy sky scattered with twinkling diamonds. A crescent moon shone a silver beam down onto them. It was cold, but the instant Ginny felt the chill, an odd warmth radiated from Draco’s hand, and she grasped it tighter. When they reached a back alley, Ginny turned to face him. She took a small step forward and gently clasped his other hand in hers. She looked up into his sharp, grey eyes, now uncommonly warm.

“Is this what you want?� she asked softly. She gave Draco’s hands a squeeze.

“I want nothing more,� he replied, and leaned forward as close as he dared.

* * *

Draco felt something turn in his stomach, and a tingling sensation rippled through his body, catching him completely off guard. He slipped his hands out of Ginny’s and replaced them elsewhere, one around Ginny’s back, pulling her even closer, while the other entwined itself in Ginny’s silken red mane of hair. If this was heaven, he would have killed himself ages ago. Draco could not imagine a better way to live, or die. So reluctant to part, he was, that Ginny had to nearly heave him away. But all the same, she too had a look of yearning painted across her face.

Draco opened his mouth to thank her, then shut it before the words could escape. What had he done? When he had said he wanted to know what love was, that was not what he had had in mind. He had wanted it written down on cold stone, explained to him from a book or diagram.

He had not wanted or expected what he had been given instead, but he couldn’t deny that he had been incredibly lightened by the passion he had set free unbridled. No, the kiss had not been in his plans, but as good as it felt, he knew he could and would never take it back…