A/N: This is just part of a little fic that came to me while on my way to work, listening to Barry Manilow.  The characters are not mine, they belong to Warner Brothers.  Plot is mine, for better or worse.  I’m heading on vacation, so expect more Heaven and Heart when I return.

 

          Ginny sat in the small Italian café, sipping her cappuccino and watching the couple strolling through the Piazza del San Marco, holding hands and whispering words of love, lost in their own little worlds of hearts and flowers.  “Love,” Ginny sniffed, involuntarily picking up the smell of the biscotti baking inside the shop.  She had thought she loved Harry.  “It was just a childhood crush, albeit one that lasted far longer than childhood.  Rather fitting that it ended just as it started, without us even realizing what was happening.”  One day, seven years ago, the friends had turned into lovers, and then one day, six months ago, they decided just to be friends again.  And they were friends.  There was no bitterness, hatred, distance…  “It’s hard to break up the old fashioned way when he is your favorite brother’s best friend and godfather to your nephews.”

Ron and Hermione had fought valiantly to prevent the split, gods bless them.  Ron, Ginny mused, was afraid he would have to choose between his friend and his sister.  But Hermione understood.  Ginny told her what she had for so long wouldn’t even admit to herself.  There was no passion, no lust, none of that ‘I can’t wait to get you home so I can rip your clothes off with my teeth’ kind of need.  The sex was good, yes, Ginny wouldn’t have stayed with him for so long if it wasn’t.  She did care for him, in fact she did love him.  But as a friend, she was and had not been in love with him for a long time.  Deep down, Ginny realized, she always knew she needed more.  It was probably, no, more likely definitely, the reason they had never married.

Sighing, Ginny began looking through the pictures Hermione sent of Ron and the boys.  “He is teaching them to fly already!  They barely walk!” Ginny chuckled, shaking her head slightly.  Her brother doted on those children, gave into their every whim.  From Hermione’s letter, Ginny could tell her friend was against the idea; Hermione was just as overprotective as Ron was acquiescent.  It was cute really; all in all, just another thing for Ron and Hermione to bicker over.  “Their bickering…,” Ginny laughed out loud, causing a few people to look at her, “their famous bickering is probably the reason they have four kids in five years of marriage.  Sometimes I think they fight just so they can make up.”

Flipping through the pictures, she saw Harry sitting with the baby.  For a split second, the thought that it could have been their baby flashed through her head.  That hurt her more than the breakup did, looking at all the pictures of her nieces and nephews and not knowing if she’d have her own children because she hadn’t taken the chance with Harry.

“Taking the chance,” Ginny thought sadly, “Isn’t that what it is all about?”  Ginny dipped her cookie into the coffee and then took a bite.  Staring blankly at the people in front of her, but didn’t really see any of them as she was lost in her thoughts.  She had taken a chance with Harry, but not the ultimate one.  It was nice while it lasted, but she was ready to move on, to take another chance.

Pushing her sunglasses onto the top of her head, Ginny decided it was time for her to get back to work.  “Being travel editor for Witch Weekly has definite perks,” she thought with a smile, tilting down and to the side to gather her belongings.  Opening her wallet, Ginny began looking for the right combination of bills to pay for her lunch and leave a nice tip.

“Anyone sitting here?”

Ginny looked up, prepared to tell her visitor very politely to bugger off, but found herself blinded by the sun glinting off the whitest blonde hair she’d ever seen.  Squinting, she couldn’t help but think she recognized that voice.

“Do you mind if I sit down?” the man repeated in accented English, as though he’d been speaking Italian for a long time.  “There aren’t any other tables, or seats for that matter, available.”  The man shifted so the sun was now behind him, giving him an almost angelic appearance.  Ginny half expected for giant wings to sprout from his back, like the archangels she had seen in the great cathedrals.

“Go ahead,” Ginny replied breathily, suddenly in no rush to get back to her sightseeing.  She moved a few shopping bags off the chair and he sat, the umbrella providing welcomed shade and finally allowing Ginny to see who the angel was.

Draco Malfoy.  Lucifer himself.  The Devil’s Own.

“Thanks, I should have known better than to come out mid-afternoon like this,” he said lightly, leaning back in the chair and calling a waiter over.

Ginny stared open mouthed at him.  “Of all the people in the world,” she whispered, “Draco Malfoy.”

Draco looked over at the girl sitting across from him, narrowing his eyes slightly trying to focus on her face.  She knew him from somewhere but he had no recognition of her.  “Yes…and you are?” he asked, bewildered that he didn’t remember the beauty sitting at his table.

“You may better remember my brother, Ron,” Ginny smirked, enjoying his confusion for some unknown reason.

“Ron?” Draco repeated in question before his eyes locked on her hair.  When he first saw her, leaning over to get her bag, it had been glowing a reddish gold in the sun.  Without the glare, it clearly was a dark strawberry blonde.  More strawberry than blonde.  No doubt about it, she was a redhead.  Red…  Not just red but Weasley Red.  The vision was a Weasley.

“Cat got your tongue, Malfoy?” Ginny laughed, seeing the realization dawn on him.  “Ginny Weasley, pleased to meet you…again.”

She stuck her hand out towards him, causing Draco to stare at it.  A Weasley.  He was not just sharing a table with a Weasley, but a few minutes before was staring at her from across the Piazza.  His apartment was just a few blocks away and he normally tried to avoid the congested square.  But today, he had the insane desire to venture through, to get a bite to eat perhaps.  He saw her immediately, her hair radiating more heat than the sun, staring at the tourists and locals who populated the square just after lunchtime.  Draco actually watched her for a few minutes before getting up the nerve to walk over.  He had quickly come up with a cover story when he saw her preparing to leave.  Ginny cleared her throat and he realized he was staring at her hand.

Ginny couldn’t quite understand what Draco Malfoy was doing in Italy, let alone her Piazza, or why he was staring at her hand.  She started to pull it back when he grasped it.  Her eyes widened in surprise when he kissed the back of it rather than just shaking it.

“Ginny…”

Despite her best intentions, she smiled.  He managed to make her name sound regal with his combination English and Italian accents.  After he placed her hand back onto the table, she looked up at him.  “What in the world are you doing in Italy?  Surrounded by,” she dropped her voice, “Muggles?”

Draco smiled, “Wasn’t anything left in England.”  After Voldemort’s defeat, his father was jailed, his mother finally institutionalized and his fortunes ransacked by the Ministry; deciding to board up the house, he just started traveling, settling for periods in France, Germany, Switzerland, Greece and now Italy.

“Oh,” Ginny replied sheepishly, remembering the trial of Lucius Malfoy and his wife’s breakdown.  She struggled to find a neutral topic, not wanting to ruin the rather lighthearted mood by bringing up the past.  “How long have you been here?”

“Three and a half years now.  You?” Draco asked, truly interested, leaning towards her across the table.

“Three weeks,” she replied, before taking a final sip of her coffee. 

Draco noticed that her cup was empty and flagged down a waiter.  “Whatever she was drinking,” he told the waiter in melodious, perfect Italian before returning his attention to her, his gaze never leaving her face.  “By yourself?”

“Yes,” Ginny answered, wondering why he was asking, but having a good idea where he was heading.  And although years of training warned her to leave, she couldn’t bring herself to.

“Your brothers, overprotective as they are, allowed that?” Draco laughed, remembering Ron Weasley hovering over her at Hogwarts but also a bit concerned about her traveling throughout the country on her own.  Didn’t they know how dangerous that was?

“They don’t have a say.  It’s in my job description to travel,” Ginny explained.  “I’m the travel…”

Draco didn’t allow her to finish as he blurted out impetuously, “Your husband doesn’t object either?”

Ginny was momentarily stunned by his question, then realized he was just as surprised.  “No husband.  No fiancé.  No…”

Again, Draco cut her off, “What about Potter?”  He immediately regretted asking the question as she leaned back, he thought possibly to leave.  He wanted nothing more in the world at that moment then to prevent that.

“Harry and I ended six months ago,” Ginny revealed flatly, wondering what Draco would do with that information.  How she hoped he would let it be.

“I’m sorry,” Draco whispered, knowing he was lying.  He wasn’t sorry she was single, he wasn’t sorry that she and Potter had broken up, and he wasn’t sorry that she didn’t seem upset by it.

<Ginny stared at him over the table, her eyes locked with his gray ones.  “What about you?”

“Me?” Draco fumbled, “I…  Pansy is long gone.  Perhaps you’ve seen her latest picture.  It’s playing across Europe.”

“She’s an actress?” Ginny questioned, shocked that she hadn’t known.

“Yes, under the name of Patricia Parker.  Done rather well for herself.  She was nominated for…what was it?  The Yank’s film award.  Oh, the Oscar…  She was nominated for one last year,” Draco smiled, genuinely happy that Pansy had found something that made her happy and wasn’t him.

“That is her?  Wow,” Ginny sighed.  “And I take it there isn’t anyone else?”

“No,” he stated firmly, leaning further across the table and touching her hand lightly.

That slight touch did it for her.  Ginny closed her eyes, not believing what she was about to say but subconsciously knowing that the feel of Draco’s fingers on her hand had stirred up feelings Harry’s entire body against hers never had.  “What are you doing tonight?”

“Having dinner with you,” Draco replied hopefully, impressed by her guts.

“That’s what I was hoping,” Ginny smiled, lowering her eyes from his to where he had intertwined their fingers on the tabletop.  Raising her eyes, she grinned at him.  It was time to take a chance again…  And she was, perhaps taking the biggest chance of them all.

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