The Aftermath of War

[skoosiepants]

So, the song sung by Gladys Knight & The Pips, Midnight Train to Georgia, inspired me to write a Draco/Ginny cookie. However, I got stuck halfway through and haven't been able to move past it. Basically, I need to come up with Draco's reaction to Ginny. Suggestions are welcome.


*****
It didn't take a genius to figure it all out. The war was over. His parents were dead. His previous friends were, for the most part, Death Eaters. His bags were packed.

In the end, though, Pansy nudged her into doing it. Sitting in the Hogwarts' faculty lounge - which, up until a mere month ago, had been the central Order War Room - she turned to Ginny and asked, "What else are you going to do? Marry Potter?"

Hermione glanced up from her book and snorted. "She can do anything she wants to do, Parkinson."

But in truth, there really wasn't much she wanted that she could actually have. She wanted Charlie back, but that wasn't going to happen, was it? She wanted to dig up Lucius Malfoy's body, kick his arse, and then bury him again. She wanted to sleep for days and adopt seven cats and read torrid romance novels in front of a hot fire for the rest of her life. But none of that was ever going to really happen.

And Draco Malfoy needed looking after.

"He's going to go off to some remote town in Italy, drink obscene amounts of coffee on a sunny terrace and we'll never see him again," Pansy pointed out. "You know he will; he's exactly like that. And it can't be good for his vulnerable psyche." She held up a thin volume, The Aftermath of War. "He doesn't have anyone to anchor him."

"Well then, why don't you go, Pansy, if you're so worried about him?" Hermione asked impatiently.

Pansy arched a brow. "You can't be serious. We'd drive each other mad."

"Oh, and I get along so well with him," Ginny said, but it was a half-hearted protest. She wouldn't mind it really. He was never dull, at least.

Pansy waved a dismissive hand. "That's all foreplay, you know."

"What?" Hermione's mouth dropped open, scandalized.

"Don't be such a prude, Granger. You should really jump at Blaise's offer. Maybe it'll loosen you up."

"Malfoy and I do not do foreplay," Ginny bit out. "We battle with our wits."

Pansy shrugged. "Same thing. Draco and I are too polite to each other. I'd go straight from asking if he wants more tea to strangling him with my pearl necklace. That is, if he hadn't already hexed me into a crab."

Blaise walked over and dropped three heavy books on the low coffee table before perching on the edge of Hermione's wing-backed chair. "What are we talking about?"

"Weasley's going to go with Draco," Pansy said, flashing a smug grin.

"I never agreed--"

"Oh, that'll be good," Blaise cut in, ignoring her protests. "He won't ever be bored, at least."

"Why," Hermione started, curious as well as irked, "does anyone have to go after him at all?"

"Dumbledore offered me a position as Flying Instructor for the next term," Ginny said. "That's what I want to do."

"Is it?" Blaise asked, a slight tilt to his head.

"Yes."

But later, lying in bed, back in the room she'd been assigned to for the duration of the war - the only difference now being that Lavender, Parvati and Padma had gone home - a slow, suffocating panic curled up from her stomach. Malfoy was leaving.

At the thought, she was suddenly more afraid of being without him than following him off to Italy or Majorca or that place in States he was always going on about that boasted the largest cup of yogurt in the world.
****


I'm always writing, even though I take so long to update. Strange.