Draco Veritas Alternate Scene ~~ Malfoys In The Garden  

This snippet takes place in the interim period between DS and DV. It’s a flashback that I cut out later--Cassie 

Later, Ginny would not rememberwhy she had gone into the garden. It might have been that she had heard a noise in the shrubbery, a scratching at the windowpane. It might just have been that it was stifling in the house and she wanted to get outside. It might have been that she was bored, with Ron and her parents off at aPuddlemere United Quidditch game and not likely to be back until after supper. It might have been the fact that she hadn’t heard anything from Draco - not a letter, not even a postcard - for over a week that was making her restless, but she didn’t want to think too hard about that. 

It was even hotter outside than it had been in the kitchen. Irritably, Ginny kicked her way through the choked weeds by the back door, seeking the sparse shade offered by the gnarled trees that lined the garden walls. She stopped in front of the largest one, by the gate that led through the back fields toOttery St. Catchpole. She'd often climbed the tree when she was younger, but she doubted it would hold her weight now - and now she had clothes she didn't want to ruin, which she'd never had when she was a little girl. She looked down at her white linen blouse and flowered skirt ruefully, then reached up a hand to test the strength of the lowest bough – 

"Hand up?" said a breezy voice behind her. She spun around. 

Draco was standing against the wall, in the dark shade-space between two trees, his broomstick leaned up against the stones beside him. He was all gold from the summer, pale gold skin and bleached salt-white hair, threaded through with darker strands of gilt. White shirt and jeans, scuffed black boots. The scar on his cheek stood out pale against his brown skin. In his hand he held a bunch of flowers, also gold: yellow buds and blossoms, stems the pale green-yellow of champagne. He looks like one of those candies wrapped in gold foil for Christmas, Ginny thoughtmischievously, good enough to eat. 

"Trying to get your hands up my skirt, Malfoy?" she said teasingly. "No, thanks." 

"A Malfoy does not try," Draco said. "He eithersucceeds, or triumphs." 

Ginny squinted. "What does that mean 

"I'm not sure,” Draco admitted. “It’s from The Malfoy Family Code of Conduct.” He pointed towards the gate with his handful of yellow roses and Ginny saw that their stems were tiedwith a ribbon. "Walk with me?" 

Heat had dried the grass to the coarseness of coconut matting. It crunched as they walked, dust coating Ginny's sandals, rubbing the grit between her toes. She wondered why Draco had come, and wondered how long it would take for him to get around to giving her the flowers. "So what are you doing here?" she asked finally, as he helped her over a wooden stile. She dropped down to the other side and turned to face him. "Don't tell me you were just in the neighbourhood." 

"I was on my way somewhere," he said, landing lightly beside her. "Then I thought of your garden. It seemed a pleasant place to spend the afternoon..." 

"You're lying," she said, laughing. 

"Unfortunately," he said. "Wretchedly unpleasant place, your garden. More gnomes than flowers, and the pond is positively brackish. I'm sure it's breeding disease." 

"You didn't come here to talk to me about the pond” 

"I suppose not, although if you wind up with malaria you'll have only yourself to blame." 

Ginny stopped and faced him, arms folded. "Cough it up, Malfoy. What are you doing here?" 

He paused and looked at her quizzically. "Couldn't I just have wanted to see you?" 

She jerked her chin towards the bouquet in his hand. "With flowers? Or were those for my mum? You needn't bother about trying to make a good impression, you know, it's far too late for that." 

She saw him glance at the flowers, almost startled, as if he'd genuinely forgotten them. She wondered uneasily if she were pushing him too much; maybe she should just let him say what he wanted to say in his own time. "Right, the flowers. Your powers of observation never cease to -" 

"Oh, stop it," Ginny interrupted, tension making her snappish. "I'm not in the mood for sarcasm. Or poetry quotes." 

"I know some interesting mathematical formulas." 

"Draco." 

"I don't see what's wrong with poetry," he said, looking injured. "It says everything we want to say, but better." 

"You've never seemed to have much trouble expressing yourself without it," Ginny said, then relented. "All right, if you came all the way here to recite poetry at me, I suppose that's all right. It had better rhyme, though," she added, and grinned at him. 

He didn't return the grin. His eyes were searching her face and there was a strange look in them, a sort of pained and bitter amusement. He reached his hand out then,and traced the curve of her cheekbone with his fingers. Her knees went, instantly, the way they always did when he touched her. "I haven't got any poetry for this," he said. "I came because I wanted to see you, a last time." 

Ginny put her hand over his, twining their fingers together. He lowered his hand from her cheek and they stood, hands interlaced. She had been so close to him only very infrequently, but he seemed a million miles away. "A last time?" she said. "But I'll see you in a week or two - for school. Has something happened?" 

"I don't know," he said, and laughed shortly, under his breath. "But I can't risk it. 'My stars shine darkly over me - the malignancy of my fate might perhaps distemper yours - therefore I shall crave of you your leave that I may bear my evils alone: it were a bad recompense for your love, to lay any of them on you.' There, there's your poetry. Shakespeare, if you're interested, though it doesn't rhyme." 

Her heart had begun to pound. "I don't understand. There's something terribly wrong, isn't there? Draco, tell me what it is. Has something happened to Harry? Has -" 

The corners of his mouth were curled up, but not in a smile. "Nothing has happened to Harry," he said. "I left him quite happily flying practice loops in the back garden. I came because I wanted to see you - actually, to be more precise, I wanted you to see me. I wanted you to look at me one more time the way I -" 

"I see you all the time," she said, quietly. "When I hear someone call out my name and I turn around, thinkingits you - in the movement of shadows, I see you, and when I close my eyes -" 

"No," he said, sharply, and let go her hand. "I shouldn't have come." He started to turn away, then stopped. "I'm sorry," he said, "for disappointing you. The fault is mine. Meaculpa, meamaxima culpa." 

"You haven't," she said, "disappointed me." 

"Not yet. But I will," he replied, and turned again, and walked away from her. She watched him go, through the hip-high dry grass that was the same bleached gold colour as his hair. She glanced down, not wanting to watch him disappear, and saw something glimmer in the dust at her feet. It was a yellow petal. She bent to pick it up, and found it heavier and harder than she would have thought, its edges rounded. It had turned into a Galleon. Puzzled, she closed her fist around it. She would wonder for a long time, before he told her, who that fistful of gold coins was really for. 

Deleted Scene between DS and DV

"I swear this owl hates me. Look how she looks at me."  

"Ron, your owl doesn't hate you," said Hermione, looking with amusement at her best friend, who was bending down eye-to-eye with the rather cranky-looking black owl his parents had given him the day before. "She's probably hungry." 

"I miss Pig," said Ron gloomily, straightening up. He looked jealously at his ex-owl, who was perched serenely on Ginny's shoulder. Pig twittered merrily, tugging with a diminutive foot at a curl of Ginny's loose red hair. "Pig appreciated me." 

"He appreciates me more," said Ginny, with a distracted smile. Though Platform 9 ¾ was crowded with students hopping onto the Hogwarts Express, Ginny had been searching in vain for the particular student she was looking for since the senior Weasleys had dropped them off. Draco Malfoy was nowhere to be spotted. 

"We appreciate you, Ron," said Harry good-naturedly, and Hedwig, safely secured in her cage, hooted assent. "No fear." 

Ron shrugged in resignation and took hold of the handle on his owl's cage, hauling it after him as he boarded the train. As he walked, sunlight glinted off the Head Boy badge pinned to his chest. Fred and George had been so horrified at Ron for accepting the Head Boy position that they nearly hadn't spoken to him the night before at the Burrow, where they had all been gathered to celebrate Harry, Hermione, and Ron's last year of school.  

Hermione bit back a smile at the memory. It had been the culmination of a very pleasant two-week holiday at the Burrow, during which time she, Harry and Ron had done little more than lie by the Weasleys' pond in the sun, Harry getting very brown and Ron multiplying his freckles daily. It had been a nice way to relax after the hectic events of the summer.  

Hermione's only regret was that Draco hadn't come as well, and hadn't furnished much of an explanation as to why not. She'd seen how disappointed Ginny was by his absence, though she tried to hide it -- apparently she didn't know why he'd chosen not to visit either. 

Hermione followed Ron on to the train, Harry behind her. Ron was still grumbling. Hermione caught every other word. "When Bill was Head Boy...big send-off...absolute harem of girls waving goodbye..." 

"Mourning your lack of a harem of girlfriends?" Ginny teased. 

"I don't see why I shouldn't have a harem of girlfriends," her brother replied. 

"Maybe your standards are too high," suggested Hermione. 

"I dated *you*," Ron pointed out. 

"That's because my standards are too low." 

"I resent that inference," put in Harry. 

Hermione turned and smiled at him. "Not you, of course." On her tiptoes, she kissed him on the cheek. 

"Move it along, you two," said Ginny good-naturedly, and pushed past them. She walked ahead of Ron, who followed her down the narrow corridor in between train compartments, trailed by Hermione and Harry. 

Hermione didn't realize Ginny had stopped moving entirely until she crashed right into Ron, who had himself nearly walked into his sister. "Hey, Gin," he was saying good-naturedly, "What's the hold up...?" His voice trailed off, and he swore under his breath.  

Hermione looked at him in surprise, and then at Ginny, who was standing stock-still with her right hand over her mouth, very pale. Hermione followed her gaze and saw that she was staring through the window of the nearest compartment. She stepped up beside Ginny and looked through the glass. 

At first she thought the compartment was empty. Then she realized it was occupied by two people, who were sitting – no, lying – on the floor. The girl was slender, and tall from what Hermione could tell. Her gold-red hair was braided around her head, and a silver serpent choker glittered at her throat. Hermione recognized her as Blaise Zabini, a Slytherin seventh-year who she had last seen dancing at Harry's birthday party. Now, however, she was half- sitting, half- lying on top of... 

"Well for the love of--" Hermione began, and trailed off into speechlessness. She whirled around and stared at Harry, who was also looking very taken aback. "Did you know about this?" she demanded. 

Harry began to shake his head. He looked rather stunned himself.  

Hermione spun around and returned her gaze to the window. She felt as if her jaw was set on a hinge that had swung open, and refused to swing back. She couldn't quite believe that the boy on whom Blaise was sprawled, and whom she was kissing with great energy and thoroughness, was Draco Malfoy, but it was. The bright silver hair was unmistakable, as was the long-fingered hand splayed across Blaise's back. On the fourth finger the Malfoy seal ring glittered like a curious eye. 

"What *is* Draco doing?" Hermione demanded, rhetorically.  

"I think it's pretty obvious," said Harry, who now looked mildly embarrassed. "Maybe we should go." 

"Ginny, come on," said Ron, awkwardly touching his sister's motionless shoulder. "Let's get out of here," but Ginny seemed unable to move. In the end, Ron had to pick her up in his arms and half-carry her down the corridor to an empty compartment, shoving his way past groups of staring students.  

Harry and Hermione piled into the compartment after them in time to see Ron set Ginny down on the seat nearest the window. No sooner had the door clicked shut behind them all then Ginny buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking. 

"Oh, hell." Ron down next to his sister and put his arms around her. Hermione slid her hand into Harry's and squeezed it tightly. They were both only children, but she often felt Harry's dearth of a brother or sister more intensely than she felt her own, since she at least had two loving parents to counterbalance the lack. She was glad Ginny had Ron in this circumstance -- she herself wouldn't have known what to say. "Don't worry about it, it's probably just a fling?" but Draco wasn't the sort of boy who had flings, and the silver snake at Blaise's throat been very recognizably the Malfoy serpent design ... Draco must have given it to her. 

Stroking Ginny's hair, Ron looked up at Harry. "Did you know about this?" he said tightly, his eyes level and serious. 

Harry shook his head. "No, I didn't." Hermione believed him – he looked well and truly startled. "I mean, it's not like Malfoy and I talk about his love life much, or ever – and this past two weeks I haven't even seen him –" 

Ron shook his head. "I'm going to kill him," he said darkly, his mouth a thin line. He gently detached himself from Ginny, and stood up. "I am. I'm going to kill him." 

Harry quickly moved to block Ron's access to the door. "Steady on," he said quietly. "Let's just wait a minute." 

"I don't want to wait a minute," Ron began, but he was interrupted by Ginny, who had gotten to her feet. Her eyes were red, but her face was dry of tears. 

"Harry's right," she said. "Draco didn't do anything –" 

"What?" Ron interjected. "So I suppose it wasn't him we just saw with some girl stuck to his face?" 

Ginny paled a little but held her ground. "He never -- we never --" 

They all looked at her. 

"He never promised me anything," she finished. "I don't know who that girl was, but --" 

"Blaise," said Ron flatly. "Blaise Zabini -- she's a Slytherin. A Chaser, in fact." 

"Oh," said Ginny, in a small voice. "Oh. I see." 

Ron shook his head. "Look, Gin—" 

Ginny raised her head. "Ron, she said fiercely, and clutched at her brother's sleeve. "You have to promise me you won't ever do or say anything about this, to Draco or anyone else." 

Ron looked surprised. "But—" 

"Promise me," she said again, fiercely. "Swear." 

Ron nodded reluctantly. "All right. If that's what you want." 

"Swear it." 

Ron looked almost exasperated. "I swear, I will not say anything about you to Malfoy. Ever. And I won't break his spine into several pieces either, much as he deserves it." 

Ginny looked relieved. "Good." 

"I ... can talk to him if you want me to, Ginny," said Harry, looking mightily embarrassed at the prospect. 

"No!" Ginny said sharply. "Especially not you, Harry. I'd rather none of you said anything at all to him." She forced a quick smile. "I'm fine. It was just a surprise, that's all. I don't even mind that much. It's nothing. I guess I'm just a little nervous about school – it's been a year since I've been back." 

"Right, of course," said Hermione, and went and sat down, and after a moment, Ginny sat down next to her. Hermione put her hand on top of Ginny's and Ginny squeezed her fingers quickly before turning her attention to the window. Next to her, Harry and Ron seated themselves, neither looking at the other. A worried silence descended upon all four of them as the train pulled out of the station.