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Summary: [HIATUS] Opposites attract and sparks fly but one thing is abundantly clear. No matter what the quirks, to the person who loves you you're always beautiful. Willow/Spike and Draco/Ginny

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Harry Potter > Multiple Pairings > RomancePrincessTaiFR1375,123033,56112 Apr 0725 Aug 07No

Chapter One: She doesn't own a dress ...

For the disclaimer please check out chapter one. I don't own any of the characters in this story :-)

Hope you like this songficish thingie. Please review!


Chapter One: She doesn't own a dress, her hair is always a mess
May, 2008

"What are you doing, Weasley?"
Draco Malfoy walked outside to the yard of the Burrow and leaned against the door way, arms crossed at his chest with his brow raised in amused question. He'd just left an excitedly stilted conversation with his future brothers-in-law to find his cruel fiancee who should really have been in Slytherin the way her mind worked. She had seen it fit for him to ... what was the word? Oh yes, "bond" with her brothers, to find some common ground so they could all get along. As if he would want to get along with Weasleys. Ginny didn't count as a Weasley because he was sure that she had been adopted and Molly didn't count either, for she was Prewitt and he was sure she was Slytherin at heart too. Now, for the others ... he'd rather do with out. Because the only thing he had in common with them was a love for Ginny and even that was different.
It had better be different ...
Unable to take a torture that was worse than his father going muggle and trying to pummel sense into or the life out of him (when he'd learned that he was going to marry Ginny) he had-no he had not escaped for Malfoy's don't run away-skillfully removed himself from their presence. Only to find his Gin in front of a ... bonfire?

Ginny turned towards Malfoy with a an annoyed huff and a look that said 'what do you think?'

"I don't want to make the mistake of assuming anything."
He drawled in his typical tone though it was colored with wariness.
He'd learned never to make assumptions about Virginia Weasley for it always came out making him seem like an idiot or being frightfully correct. Or just plain filled with fright.

"I'm burning my Yule ball dress."

Draco had to bite back a very exuberant 'Thank Merlin!'.
Not because it was un-Malfoy-like to show so much emotion, he'd learned a lot of unMalfoy-like tendencies since he'd fallen for her, no it was because she might decide to be contradictory and not go through with it if he did. "Why not give it away to, erm ... charity." He managed not to sneer however, Ginny knew him too well.

"Look, Drakey not every one can get the best robes and clothing right off the bat.
They have no choice but to wear others clothing ... Yes, I know you don't understand it but that's the way it is."

"Then why aren't you giving that away?"

"Because it's a 'that' Drakey. Who would wear this hideous thing, even if tortured?"

True. He tilted his head slightly to acknowledge her very valid point.
"Stop calling me that." He sighed slightly.

"No. Now hand me the green dress too."

Now this Draco would object.
"But it's lovely on you, dearest Ginny.
It brings out your hair and eyes."

"It makes me look fat. And it's ugly torture too.
It gets burned."

"You know you are no longer going to have any dresses."

"I know."
She smiled slightly as she threw the dresses in the growing fire, the bright embers flickering on her features and giving her an ethereal quality making her seem more breath taking.
In the star-filled sky light making her seem deceptively fragile.

A small smile started on Draco's features when a thought occurred to him.
Deceptive she was. Slytherin she should have been. The smile he only saved for her grew into a bit of a grin."Mother's formal dinner party is tomorrow."

"Oh, is it? And look at that. No more dresses."

Draco's amusement was very palpable.
"No more dresses. Mother will be very put out if we don't make a show."

Ginny turned and gave him a wide, what could be called shite-eating grin,
"I know."

London, England
March, 2006

"Oh, no. Oh, no! Oh nooooo!!!!!!"
The young woman frantically patted at her shining and silky red tresses, moss green eyes wide in worry and self-annoyance. One would think after all her years of doing magic that she would stop making such silly mix ups with her potions and stuff.

"Now, now Red. It isn't so bad."

She turned and glared at her very British and very sexy undead boy-friend.
"Not so bad? Not so bad?! I look like I took a shower and then put my hand in a socket!
I look like a socket head!" Her bottom lip trembled slightly. "How am I supposed to go to Giles wedding like this! How can I walk down the aisle like this?! I'm not going."

Spike let out a belabored sigh as he rolled his ice-blue eyes.
"Yes, y' are luv. We both know it would break the Watcher's 'eart if one of 'is "daughters" didn' show. Jus' put some gel in it and go."

Willow Rosenberg turned and scowled at her boyfriend.
"I know it's been a while since you've been with anyone of the female persuasion, Spike, but we don't just gel and go."

"Well, I'm sooorrry Buffy the second."

A loving smile broke through on the pale skin that had been previously scowling.
"I wouldn't go that far." Then she sighed.
"I just want everything to go perfect for his wedding."

Spike smirked down at her, his eyes softening, warming.
It was one of the reasons he'd fallen for her ... other than the fact that she was biteable.
And Willow was VERY biteable. Darkness wrapped up in a genuinely sweet package; it was enticing.
Genuinely sweet. She didn't have to fight with the Slayer or research for the new Watcher's Council, the chit had the power to destroy the world. Almost had. The thing that pulled him in was that she hadn't. Willow didn't care that her hair was a mess for herself, after all her hair was always flowing loose and about. That was another appealing trait of hers, the way her hair would fly away as she flitted from place to place making sure everyone was okay. He loved the dark burnt fire of her hair. He loved the strawberry and cream smell of it, the vanilla of her skin ... But he was getting away with his thoughts.

She cared that her hair was a mess for Giles because she worried that her slight frizz, and it was really was just slight, would ruin the Watcher's pictures. As if her beauty could be anything but effulgent? He made sure that he wrote it to her daily for it was still hard for him to say so sometimes. His Willow made him poetic again, she made him not William or Spike. She united the two separated halves of him.

"Everythin' will go just perfect luv, stop worrying before you make a spell backfire again."

Willow gave him a look that said exactly what she thought of his little bit of humor.
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