4A/N: Holy canoodle, I have not properly written anything in ages. I can't say I'm entirely happy with this (it really has been a while) but I hope Farrha (ABitOfBlack) is! This was written for her for The DG Forum!'s Holiday Gift-fic Exchange. The prompt was the same as the title: We happy few.
Hogwarts Grounds. September 17, 1997.
"It's nice isn't it?"
She scanned the sparkling waters of the lake as she softly agreed, "Yeah, it's nice," before closing her eyes with a sigh.
"What?" He was watching the lake. He wasn't watching her. He wasn't watching how the sunlight bounced off of her fiery red locks, how her pale, freckly skin seemed to glow in the twilight air. And he definitely wasn't thinking about how absolutely right and perfect this moment was.
"Nothing." They weren't friends and this whole meeting-in-odd-places thing couldn't last but for now, she'd take it.
The Kitchens. November 29, 1997.
She pressed her hands against her ears, trying to drown out the screams. She couldn't; they just went on and on, an endless track of torture and pain. Demelza shrieking and sobbing with pain. Seamus's face, streaked with tears and shaking as he begged him to stop.
And him. He was pale, silent, and with empty eyes as he stood over her with his wand raised. They weren't friends and she hated him, of course, for doing that to her friend but why did her heart ache so much when she saw those eyes.
He could see her, too. But for him, it wasn't in his head, a tortuous memory. No, this was very much real life as he slumped in and sat down across from her, his hand trembling as he reached for warm tea.
Dropping her hands, she offered him a glare and an ice-cold statement, "What were you thinking?" The door slammed behind her.
He was thinking about how he was tired and hungry. He wasn't thinking about her eyes, shining with pain and tears as he shot off another curse. He wasn't thinking about how he felt numb, and empty, and cold. He wasn't thinking about how he had completely ruined things with Ginny, the only person he seemed to talk to these days. He wasn't thinking about how (because Draco Malfoy could never catch a break) everything just sucked.
He dropped his head on the table and groaned.
Charms Hallway. December 2, 1997.
"Ginny," his voice was desperate, pleading for her to understand, "please."
She sighed. They weren't friends and Demelza was her friend so it wasn't like the incident in the Great Hall a couple days ago could be so easily forgotten. And yet stolen hours with Demelza, well, Ginny couldn't imagine it'd be quite the same.
When she nodded, he was thinking about how his father would be proud of his "in" with a Weasley. He wasn't thinking about how his father didn't know and would never know. He wasn't thinking about how relieved he was that she believed him. He definitely wasn't thinking about how important she'd become in his life.
They walked down the hallway next to each other but not together because a Malfoy and a Weasley did not walk together. But there was a faint smile on her face and a tired smirk on his.
The Great Hall. January 16, 1998.
It was a quiet breakfast. It was always a quiet breakfast lately. There hadn't been a loud boisterous one for what felt like forever. It was just always so, so quiet. No one was laughing. No one was talking. Students were eating with their head down, occasionally shooting a frightened glance at the Carrows, the only two people in the room who were smiling.
She glanced over at him. They weren't friends but she couldn't help the twinge of worry. He had come back from the holidays looking not so great but every time she asked, he just brushed it off with a weak smile and their time together was so precious and rare that she always dropped it.
And him? He wasn't thinking about much of anything lately.
Malfoy Manor. March 23, 1998.
His heart was racing and he was thinking again. He was thinking please don't let it be Ginny please don't let it be Ginny please don't let it be Ginny. It was like a mantra as he walked nonchalantly over to "identify" the Weasley his father was hovering over.
No. It wasn't her. He couldn't stop the wave of relief washing over him until it was replaced by guilt. This sad excuse of a creature was related to her. When they escaped, he acted out regret and remorse while cheering on the inside.
And he figured at this point, he might as well call her a friend.
Hogwarts. May 2, 1998.
There were curses flying everywhere, bodies and buildings were falling, and everywhere was screams and cries and the sound of running feet.
She was frustrated. She wanted to be out there, fighting. It was her cause just as much as everyone else's and wasn't she the one who had been at Hogwarts with the Carrows and Snape? So it was with a leap of happiness that she left the room, ignoring Harry when he yelled at her to come back.
He was running, shooting jets of light over his shoulder as he desperately searched for a sheet of red hair. She hadn't been at Hogwarts and he hoped beyond hope that she wasn't here now. But he knew her. She'd be here.
"Ginny!"
She was running, he was running, and they were swept together. Suddenly, his lips were on hers. Her hands were running through his hair. And they stood there, wrapped together as around them, the battle raged on.