Six-year old Ginny Weasley happily stroked her new toy wand as she walked quickly to keep up with her father. She had always seen her few wizard friends her age playing with training wands, but she had never had one for herself until today. She smiled as she ran her fingers over the smooth wood, dented in a few places as it had once belonged to her brother, but nonetheless, she was satisfied. It served no purpose other than to practice not misplacing the wand she would someday have, but she was ecstatic to finally have one.

She walked proudly around the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic, before sitting next to the Fountain of Magical Brethren to wait for her father to return with a visitor’s pass for her. She loved visiting her father’s workplace, even though she had to wait in the Atrium every single time while he obtained permission for her to enter.

Ginny looked around the Atrium, watching as people popped in and out of the Floo fireplaces. Her gaze strayed to the golden symbols moving across the peacock blue ceiling of the Atrium. She always loved to look at all the beautiful things in the Atrium, and to see all the strange people who worked there.

An unusual splash broke her thoughts, and her attention turned to a young boy with white-blond hair who was playing in the fountain with what was no doubt a training wand. He was obviously bored, probably waiting for someone to get him. He poked his wand into the water and swished it around as though absentminded stirring a cauldron and the slapped at the water a few times, adding to the ripples on the surface. She stared at him for a few moments, wondering what possessed him to be so uninterested in such a wonderful place.

“Are you ready to go downstairs Ginny?” Arthur Weasley asked his daughter as he handed her a small visitor’s badge.

“Of course!” exclaimed Ginny as she attached the magical badge to the front of her jumper. She held her father’s hand and followed him to the crowded lift.

“This won’t take very long,” he said, “I just need to do a few things at the office and then we can go home.” They were on the way back from shopping in Diagon Alley when he had been called in to work. Ginny did not know the details of the situation, but she had overheard his father talking to Perkins about raids and more enchanted Muggle artifacts. She did not mind going to his office though, she never did. It was always fun to see all the people at the Ministry, and to play around and explore. She usually ran into other people’s children as well—she had many friends that she had met around the Ministry. It was her only real way of meeting children her age, and children who were female for that matter. Her six brothers did not spend much time playing girlish games with her, especially when they could do other things like try to play Quidditch on their training brooms, and play with gags from the wizard joke stores.

They continued to ascend in the elevator until finally she the elevator voice said, “Level three, Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, including the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, Oblivator Headquarters, and Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee.” Ginny held her father’s hand as she stepped off the lift. She followed him down the corridors to his office.
Mr. Weasley had barely opened the door before he was bombarded by Perkins, who seemed to be holding an electrical cord which looked as thought it had a flying toaster at the end. Perkins handed Mr. Weasley a load of what Ginny could only assume to be paperwork, before handing him the cord to the misbehaving toaster, and retreating back into the crowded office.

Mr. Weasley stepped into the office and swiftly tied the toaster to his chair and turned to face Ginny.

“Ginny, I need to take care of a few things right now,” he gestured towards the fluttering toaster which had pulled the chair into the air and was now madly banging the chair into the wall. “Just go run along to the waiting room, and go see if any of your friends are here, okay?”

“Okay,” Ginny replied before scampering off down the hallway. She really did not want to get in the way of his work. She turned left into an airy room full of various mismatched chairs and a small table cluttered with a variety of wizarding magazines and newspaper. She glanced at the headline article of the Quibbler—she could not read all of the words in the headline, but the picture seemed to be of a giant sea turtle holding a wand and transforming into a frightful looking creature. She rolled her eyes at the magazine, and wandered over to the corner of the room where there was a small toy chest full of ways to pass time until her father was ready. She knew that she could probably go wander the building, but she only really liked to meander around the building when she had friends to go with her.

The area by the toy chest was completely empty, except for the one bored looking blond haired boy from upstairs, who had taken out a deck of Exploding Snap cards and was throwing them at the wall, trying to get them to explode. Ginny sat down next to the toy box, and opened the lid to look for the Gobstone set that she usually played with. She liked the Gobstones at the Ministry—they were good to practice with because they didn’t squirt foul liquid like Gobstones did. Her father had told her that these were actually a Muggle version of Gobstones, and that they were called ‘merbals,’ or something like that.

The young boy next to her looked up. He seemed to be about her age, maybe older if anything. She gave him a small smile as she pulled out the Gobstones.

“Do you want to play?” she asked the boy politely. She liked to play games with other children at the Ministry; it was one of her few ways to talk to people who did not live in the Burrow. The young boy gave her a haughty look, and then stared at her for a moment. He spent several moments staring at her worn jumper and skirt, and he seemed to be debating something in his head. She gave him a questioning look, and then shrugged and started setting up the game. She looked at him again, wondering what he was thinking about. “Hmm? You playing?” She questioned again. He snapped out of his thought and wiped the arrogant look off his face.

“Sure,” he said, nodding slightly. He took the deck of Exploding Snap and threw it carelessly into the box, smirking as some of the cards made satisfying popping noises as they exploded.

“Hey!” cried Ginny, “you shouldn’t just throw those in there, put them away!” She was astonished at how lazy the boy was. Shocked, the boy looked at her as though she was crazy. “What?” asked Ginny, “haven’t you ever picked up after yourself before? Those aren’t your cards—you should put them away nicely.”

The boy continued to look at her as though what she said was the most outrageous thing he had ever heard. Put the cards away? Ridiculous, he thought—that was servant’s work. This was the first time anyone he had associated with, aside from his father, had ever demanded something so trivial. He stared at her glaring gaze for a moment more before sighing and turning back to the box to look at the state of the cards, but they had already been neatly piled and put neatly into their corner of the box.

“Seems the box already took care of it,” he said smugly, gesturing towards the magical toy box. He smirked to himself—of course the Ministry would have a toy box that cleaned up after messy children. He knew the Ministry was not low enough to make him do petty work like that. They probably just took one of their confiscated enchanted Muggle artifacts and brought it in here. He looked up at Ginny, and realized he was still smirking. Ginny glared at the boy for a moment longer and shook her head at his impudence. Who did he think he was? Finally, she decided it was not worth it to pursue the matter any further.

“My name is Ginny,” she said firmly, holding out some Gobstones to the boy. “Let’s play.” The boy took the stones into his hand, and looked her over again. He remembered his father telling him to be wary of red-heads, especially those who came in large flocks, and that were all wearing secondhand clothing. His father had said that most of these red-heads were Weasleys, and how he should not associate with them—something about ‘blood-traitors.’ Ginny certainly had flaming red hair, and a load of freckles, but he remembered that the Weasley children were all boys—all six of them. He did not remember anything about a girl Weasley. He figured it would be okay for him to play with this Ginny. Besides, if his father did not approve, he would make it clear when he found out—if he ever cared to notice.

“Nice to meet you,” he said politely, before holding out his hand and smiling slightly, “my name is Draco.” Ginny grinned and took his hand, giving it a quick childish shake before turning back to the Gobstones scattered on the floor.

“I’m going to beat you!” she claimed, giving him a silly smile and taking the first turn.

“Hey!” he said jokingly, trying to play along with her guise, “Why do you get to go first?” Ginny shrugged and then smiled impishly.

“It doesn’t matter anyway—it’s your turn now.” He took his turn and was amazed by how horrible he was at the game. It was still fun though, to play with a girl who was not a friend pre-chosen by his father.

His father always had told him ‘it’s not what you know, it’s who you know,’ and accordingly, he introduced Draco to all the most important witches and wizards. Draco knew he came from a high class family, and consequently he had many upper class friends. He oftentimes had to deal with a couple of morons, Vincent and Gregory, and he also had to visit Pansy, the spoiled brat girl. He shuddered at the thought of all the people his father forced him to play with. Well, not ‘play’ with, because he did not play games in the same way he was playing Gobstones. ‘Play’ to his father was sitting in a stuffy room with his ‘friends’ and talking about whatever his father told him to talk about.

He just wished that he could be a normal child, and talk to who he wanted to talk to. That was why he was up in this waiting room to begin with, he remembered. His father had told him to go make conversation with some of the Ministry officials—but what did a seven year old have to say to a bunch of old, worn-out wizards? As a result, Draco often found himself in the various waiting rooms on the different floors of the Ministry, playing games by himself. His father was never quick at the Ministry anyway; he always seemed to have a million things to do, and tons of people to talk to. Draco gazed intently at the wall, wondering why he was even here to begin with—suddenly, a ginger haired girl popped into his picture, blocking his view of the wall.

“Helloooo—aren’t you going to play?” she inquired in a cute voice, smiling and showing off her collection of Gobstones. He shook his head at his own meager pile, before taking his turn.

“So, Ginny, why are you here?” he asked, trying to make some polite conversation. He was curious as to what other children his age were like, besides his father’s acquaintances.

“Umm… My dad works here, he’s in his office, sorting some stuff out. I come here a couple times a month with him, I like it here.” She said, taking her turn with the Gobstones. “It’s one of the few places I can go and meet other people my age—my parents don’t understand Muggle primary school, so I’m going to have to go to school at home until I’m old enough to go to Hogwarts. Your turn.” She gestured at the Gobstones on the floor.

“I know how you feel,” he said, “I only meet people when my father brings them to my house, or when I go to visit people. There aren’t places to meet anyone my age. I can’t wait until I can go to Durmstrang.”

“Durmstrang? Where is Durmstrang?” Ginny asked.

“Umm… I’m not sure,” said Draco, biting his tongue and thinking hard. “I think it’s somewhere up north…?”

“Oh… Well, my parents both went to Hogwarts, so I’m pretty sure I’m going there. It doesn’t matter now though, because I don’t start school for 5 years.”

“My father went to Hogwarts, but he says Durmstrang is better. My mother doesn’t want me to go so far away though,” Draco said, fingering a Gobstone in his hand. “I figure it doesn’t matter right now, because I’m only seven. It’s too young to decide.”

“You’re seven?” questioned Ginny, “I’m only six years old.” She smiled at him. “It’s nice to meet someone my age.”

“Yea… It is…” said Draco, looking at her wonderingly. How could she be so calm and collected around someone she did not even know that well? His parents always told him about the importance of class and the ‘right’ people, but Ginny did not seem to care. It was nice being able to act like a child, rather than act like the proper son of Lucius Malfoy. He was only seven, and already he had to sit though his father’s long, tedious dinners with important guests. He had to meet and greet them, and he was never allowed to act up or complain. Ginny seemed to be carefree, and it didn’t seem to matter when he was a pureblood or a Muggle-born, or even a squib.

They went on playing the game for a few more minutes before a short, pleasant looking witch came into the doorway.

“Ginevra?” she asked, looking at Ginny, “your father is ready to leave.”

“I’ll be right there,” Ginny responded. She looked back at Draco, “sorry, I have to leave now. It was really great meeting you.” She gave him a big smile before continuing, “Hopefully I’ll see you again! Maybe you’ll go to Hogwarts instead of Durmstrang. Or I’ll see you here sometime. Or maybe somewhere else—” She stopped suddenly, realizing that she had been rambling, and if she did not even know if he wanted to see her again. She looked at him expectantly, waiting for some sort of response.

Draco looked baffled for a moment, surprised at how kind she was to him, as though she realized that he did not talk to many people, and she wanted to help him. He gave her a genuine smile, and nodded, “I’ll see you again, sometime.” He waved at her, and watched as she turned and scampered out of the door.

He turned back to the scattered Gobstones on the floor, and scooped them up into their pouch, and neatly placed the pouch back into the trunk before heading downstairs to find his father.


~ * ~


Ginny held her father’s hand as they returned to the Atrium and took the Floo Network back to her house. She thought about her new friend that she had made that day—he was not like her other friends. He seemed to be older and more mature, even though they were only one year apart. He was almost snobbish at first, she remembered, but he had lightened up a lot while they were playing. She smiled at the thought. It was fun to play with someone who was not as wild and rambunctious as everyone else she knew.

Ginny stepped out of the fireplace in the Burrow and dusted herself off. She looked around—there did not seem to be anyone around. Ginny was wondering where all her brothers were when suddenly she heard a wild cheer from the backyard. She wandered over to the back window and looked out to see her six brothers flying around wildly on broomstick, playing their own modified version of Quidditch.

Her brother Charlie was soaring around on his broomstick, practice all sorts of tricks and dives. Bill, Fred and George were busy passing around a Quaffle, and her brother Percy was just aimlessly flying around, not paying attention to anyone else. Her brother Ron was only a year older than she was—like Draco, she remembered. Ron was testing out his training broom, making awkward turns and narrowly missing fences as he meandered slowly around the yard.
Ginny waved to her mother, who was supervising her sons. Arthur Weasley came out of the house, and went to go join Molly. Ginny smiled as she watched her family have fun. Despite the fact she was the only girl, and despite the fact that she did not really know anyone else her age, she loved her family, and that was all that really mattered.


~*~


Draco wandered aimlessly around the Ministry. Once Ginny had left, he had decided to go find his father, only to realize he had no idea where his father had gone. Draco remembered he had originally come to see someone about a raid of some sort, but then he had planned to go talk to various people, including the Minister of Magic himself.

Draco sighed, and got onto the lift. His father would find him when it was time to go home, and in the meantime he might as well entertain himself. Riding the lift up and down was a good way to kill time; however, it was only a matter of time before he got tired of that stupid voice telling him what floor he was on.

He was just about to start going up on the lift, when suddenly his father swept up besides him from somewhere down the hall.

“There you are, Draco.” He said crisply, taking Draco in a firm hold by the shoulder as the lift doors closed and they started rising towards the Atrium. “I assume you kept yourself busy,” he stated, saying it in a way that clearly meant if Draco had done anything wrong, then he would be severely punished. Lucius Malfoy expected his son to uphold the honor of the Malfoy name, even at the young age of seven. Draco stared straight ahead and curtly nodded his head to acknowledge his father, an expressionless look on his face—but inside, he was wishing that he could still be downstairs in the waiting room, losing at Gobstones and having friendly conversation with Ginny.


~*~


"Ginny? Are you ready go to?" asked Molly Weasley, as she frantically tried to get her six sons ready to leave. They were all going to Diagon Alley. Bill, Charlie and Percy needed to get school supplies for another year of Hogwarts. It was Percy's first year at Hogwarts, and he had received many hand-me-downs from Bill and Charlie, but he still needed some new supplies, as did Bill and Charlie.

Ginny was excited--she didn't get to go to Diagon Alley very often. She could not remember the last time she had been there. Probably with her mother and father to go to Gringotts sometime last year. She loved window shopping in Diagon Alley, and dreaming of all the things she would get if her family had enough money.

Soon, all seven Weasley children and both parents were ready to go. They took turns grabbing handfuls of Floo powder and stepping into the fireplace.

"Diagon Alley!" Ginny screamed at she felt the magic of the fire envelop her. She stepped out of the fire grate in busy Diagon Alley.

Ginny looked out around Diagon Alley, she could not wait until she was old enough to go roaming around by herself. Not for a couple more years, she thought sadly. In the meantime, she would have to trail along with someone else.

Percy set off with his mother to go buy school supplies and books that Charlie and Bill had not needed during their years at Hogwarts. Fred and George grabbed Ron and immediately set off towards the joke shop, no doubt looking for more gags and tricks to play on people.

Suddenly, Ginny found herself all alone with Charlie as her father decided to go stop off at Gringotts to get more money. She watched her father’s receding back longingly, wishing she could go with him. Resignedly, she looked around for Charlie, but realized that she was alone. Charlie had found some of his friends and run off, and now she was standing all alone in the middle of Diagon Alley.


~*~


Draco Malfoy proudly followed his father around Diagon Alley. He often went to Diagon Alley with his father--well, not really with his father. Usually his father brought him, and then left Draco alone to wander Diagon Alley while he went to go do business in Knockturn Alley.
Sure enough, after stopped by Gringott's, Lucius Malfoy turned to his son, "Draco, I have to go to Knockturn Alley for a little while. Stay out of trouble." Lucius handed his son a small sac full of Galleons, and then quickly turned and strode away towards Knockturn Alley.

Draco sighed--he wanted so badly to make his father happy, but his father was never around. Draco was just expected to uphold the Malfoy name, but his father never commended him for doing so—but he was often punished for every little mistake he made. He had learned at an early age (earlier than his seven years) to always accept whatever his father said, and to never cry. 'Crying is a sign of weakness,' his father had told him. Draco had learned to mask all his feelings behind an expressionless face, or behind his classic smirk. He rarely let his guard down, in fact, he could not remember the last time he had shown his true feelings—except maybe with Ginny.

Draco shook all the bad thoughts from his head, and looked around him. There were so many places to go, and yet he had been to all of them on many occasions. Diagon Alley was really starting to lose it’s appeal to him. He looked at all the people bustling around—no one he knew, of course. All the people he knew were probably with his father in Knockturn Alley. He sighed, and headed over to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor and ordered an ice cream sundae.
Sitting outside on a fence, he surveyed all the people in the town. It was obviously almost time for school to start, because there was a huge amount of student aged children running around with huge stacks of textbooks and new robes and other various items.

Draco could not wait for school to start--he wanted to make his father proud and show him how smart he could be. However, Draco still had a few years to wait before he was old enough for school. Durmstrang seemed like a dream--if he was at school, he would not have to deal with his father every day. Draco was greatly looking forward to this.

Draco looked up the street towards Quality Quidditch Supplies, his favorite store to wander through. His father had told him that he would be receiving private Quidditch lessons starting next year. Draco smiled to himself--he could not wait to go to school and show off all his skills. He knew that all the wizarding schools had Quidditch teams—Draco knew he would play for one of the school teams, someday.

He finished his sundae and wandered towards Quality Quidditch Supplies. He turned towards the newest racing brooms, and reached out to touch them. They were so sleek and beautiful--he knew his father would buy him the best racing broom when it was time. He smiled to himself as he imagined himself flying around and scoring goals on the Quidditch pitch. Or grabbing the golden snitch and holding it triumphantly over his head, making his father proud. Like that would ever happen, he reminded himself. His father would never care, as long as Draco was the best, and if he wasn't the best, Draco knew he would suffer.

Draco saw a flash of ginger hair to his right. Turning in that direction, he saw a very scared looking Ginny, frantically looking around for someone.

“Lost?” he asked smugly, a smirk on his face.

“Draco!” Ginny cried, and gave him a huge hug. Draco stood there in shock--he could not remember the last time someone had hugged him. Maybe his mother had at some point, but it definitely was not often, and it was never the same as that warm squeeze that Ginny had just given him. Whenever he hugged his parents, it was always just a cold grasp, with no feeling whatsoever. Draco had no idea what to do, so he just stood there, and let her hug him. She let go after a few moments, and took in the shocked expression on his face.

“Oh… Sorry,” she started, looking crestfallen. “I came here with my family, and now I can’t find them. You’re the only person I know. I—I’m sorry… I’ll just go look for them.” She started sadly off in the other direction, looking around her for signs of her family.

Draco stood, confused, for a moment, debating whether to help her to leave her. His father probably would not approve, but she looked so lost and alone, and he could not find it in himself to leave her standing there by herself. She was obviously not used to being left alone in the middle of busy streets like he was. Draco let down his guard a little, and reached out to grab her arm. “Hey,” he said, “let’s go look for them together.” He gave her the best smile he could muster, and waited expectantly for her response.

“I—I don’t want to bother you,” said Ginny, “I mean, if you don’t like me, then…” She trailed off into her thought, and then started glancing around Diagon Alley, probably looking for her parents, Draco figured. Draco did not really know what to say to her—it sounded like she wanted to be friends. He became happy at the thought—friends—he had always wanted a friend that his dad had not chosen for him. He smiled inwardly and turned towards Ginny, only to discover she was already walking away down the street.

“Ginny!” he called out, “I mean it, okay? We can look for them together.” He smiled and held out his hand as a welcoming gesture. “By the way, how often do you go to the Ministry? We should play games more often.” A smile lit up Ginny’s face, and she reached out for Draco’s hand. They playfully shook hands, and then began to survey the street again. “Which way?” he asked.

Ginny shrugged. “I think my dad went to Gringott’s.” The two of them began to head up the street towards Gringott’s, laughing at all the strange people and window shopping the whole way. Draco could not remember the last time he had had so much fun with someone. She was pure and innocent, just as child should be. She seemed to have no worries or cares—nothing like the life his father made for him. Suddenly, he looked up and saw his father walking down the street from Knockturn Alley.

“Ginny? I have to go, my father is coming,” he told her apologetically.

“Oh, it’s okay, I see my father up the road. Thanks Draco! I’ll be sure to look for you next time I go to work with my father.” She smiled at him again, and gave him a quick hug before running off down the street towards Gringott’s.

Draco looked towards his father, but his father had not yet seen him. He looked in the direction Ginny had just run, but she was already out of sight. Draco shrugged and then quickly walked over to join his father so they could both head home.


~*~


Ginny happily ran up to her father, and hugged him. Nothing could make her less happy right now. She had found someone to talk to, and he was actually pretty nice after he warmed up to her. She hoped that she would see him again at the Ministry—or maybe he would go to Hogwarts someday.

Over the next few years, she saw Draco periodically at the Ministry, and sometimes in Diagon Alley. She went to the Ministry with her father as much as she could, and likewise, he seemed to always be there whenever she wanted to play. As they became more adept in writing legibly, they had started to correspond by writing letters as well. He would send his eagle owl to The Burrow, and then she would send a letter back with the same owl. They never learned each other’s surnames, but it was never necessary. They had found a friendship that was not based on names or class or purity of blood. Every time they saw each other, they always had fun playing games and talking. They often had happy, lighthearted conversations, but sometimes he would tell her his problems and how his father treated him, and she would comfort him. She was always there for him when he needed her, and likewise, he always helped her. They were the best of friends, but no one knew about their friendship. Their parents never found them playing together at the Ministry. In fact, Ginny was not sure if Draco had ever told his parents about her. She had sort-of told her father—well, she had told him that she had friends at the Ministry. Draco was more than a friend though; he was her best friend, and one of her only true friends. He had stolen her first kiss—not a real kiss, but just a cute peck after they had finished a raging game of Exploding Snap and they had collapsed into laughter on the floor. They knew more about each other than anyone else, and their friendship was unbreakable. Nothing would ever tear them apart.

Or so they thought…


A/N: I’m going to write about all 5 years (behind the scenes), and I’ll post them as I do them. I might do a sixth year after too, unless the 6th book is published by then (yea right). Anyway, please leave comments on if you like the idea, and I’ll try to get the next part posted as soon as possible. Thanks!

Hogwarts: Year 1

Draco sat solemnly in his father’s study; partially listening to his father’s stern lecture on befriending the right people at Hogwarts, and partially wondering to himself why he was stuck going to Hogwarts and not Durmstrang. His father did not really care where Draco went to school, although Draco was pretty sure he preferred Durmstrang. However, his mother had argued about how far Durmstrang was from home, and how much she would miss Draco. In the end, Draco found himself attending Hogwarts, the same school as all those stupid people his father had forced him to befriend, and all those Weasley’s his father warned him about, and that Harry Potter hero.

Draco halfheartedly listened to his father discuss all the necessary steps Draco should take to ensure that he would be the leader of Slytherin, even as a first year. His father had secured him his own private chambers, as Malfoy’s had a great deal of power, and his father did not want this power to be offset by having him sleep with those other first years. Draco did not care either way—he planned on keeping to his studies, so he could make his father proud. Where he slept and who was in his room was of little concern to Draco, but it certainly had gotten his father worked up. Draco listened to his father discuss Draco’s studies, Quidditch, his house, and another fierce warning about mixing with the Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers.

The next day, Draco headed to Diagon Alley with his mother and father. It was time to get his school supplies—all of the best, of course. Draco hoped his father would actually accompany him on this trip, rather than leave him alone in the middle of Diagon Alley as usual. However, much to his dismay, as soon as they got there his father whisked off towards Flourish and Blotts, where he was going to quickly buy Draco’s books before heading off to take care of business in Knockturn Alley. Draco felt his mother grasp him firmly by the shoulder and turn him in the direction of Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions. Once he was inside, she gave him more than enough Galleons for brand-new, top quality robes, and then she left to go look into wands.

Draco stood on a stool in the back of the shop as Madam Malkin started to drape luxurious black robes over his head and pin them to the proper length. He stood there, staring out the window at the front of the store, watching the people bustle by. He remembered the times where he and Ginny had walked down the street together, looking at all amazing stuff in the shop. He would miss those days—because now he would be going off to Hogwarts, and she was still one year too young. She was the only person who ever made his life fun. He imagined walking down the street holding her hand, and buying her an ice cream cone, and then laughing with her all the way up and down the street.

His concentration was suddenly broken as a boy with unruly jet-black hair stepped up on the stool next to him. He was wearing oversized Muggle clothes, and he seemed entirely lost. That’s a mudblood if I ever did see one—Draco thought to himself, looking down upon the boy.

“Hello,” Draco started, a haughty expression on his face, “Hogwarts, too?”

“Yes,” the boy replied, not offering much of an answer.

Draco continued to talk, apathetically, about his father and mother, Quidditch, and houses at Hogwarts. The boy seemed completely clueless about everything. Draco smirked arrogantly, and talked to the boy until the boy was finished getting his robes. Draco thought about his encounter with the boy—that was the type of person his father had told him specifically to avoid. Well, if they were that easy to recognize, he thought to himself, then this should be no problem.

He paid Madam Malkin for the robes, and slowly wandered back out to the street. He turned towards Ollivander’s, where he was sure to find his mother. He did not really understand why his mother had gone there without him—he would need to get his own wand anyway. She probably was not even there, he figured. She had probably gone off to get a manicure and a new haircut, or something like that. He bitterly glared around the town. All the other children he saw were walking with their parents, spending time together. Draco knew that would never happen with his parents. He turned around and stalked off in the other direction for a moment, thinking he would just go sit somewhere by himself. Then he decided it was not worth it to go hide and make them look for him, because they probably would just leave him there. He sighed audibly, and started walking again towards Ollivander’s, when he noticed a ginger hair bouncing up on his left side.

“Draco!” Ginny cried, giving him a huge hug and an even bigger smile. He returned the hug quickly, while looking around nervously to see if his parents were nearby. They weren’t.

“What are you doing here?” he asked Ginny, as pleasantly as he could.

“Oh, my brother is shopping for school supplies,” she said. “You’re shopping for supplies too!” She added, pointing at his bag. “You’re so lucky, I wish I could come with you. You’re my only friend—I don’t know what I’m going to do by myself this year” she added sadly.

Draco looked at her, “I’ll write you, Ginny, and then next year I’ll see you.” He was suddenly distracted by a ginger haired boy following two ginger haired adults into a shop. So that’s what a Weasley looks like, he thought to himself. Turning back to Ginny, they engaged in a friendly conversation for a few minutes, before he realized that he should probably go look for his mother to get his wand. “Ginny, I have to go now—to get my wand, and the rest of my supplies.”

“It’s okay, I’ll see you around,” she said, embracing him again. This time, he returned the hug. His father was not nearby, and he did not see his mother either.

“I’ll be waiting for you at Hogwarts,” he said, giving her a genuine smile. She smiled back happily, and then kissed him on the cheek before scampering off towards the bookstore. Draco happily walked up the street and into Ollivander’s. Like he expected, his mother was not there, but he got his own wand with the gold his mother had given him, and then he wandered around Diagon Alley collecting the rest of his supplies. By the time he was done, he could see his mother and father walking slowly down the street. He went to join them, checking if they had actually bought what they had supposed to buy for him before they all headed home.

Draco packed all of his new stuff into his trunk, and then lay on his bed looking at his ceiling. He really would miss seeing Ginny—recently they had been seeing each other a couple times a week at the Ministry, swapping secrets and talking about anything. He probably would not get to meet people like her at Hogwarts, since he was almost certain that she was not the type of girl to be in Slytherin. He sighed, and stared intently at the ceiling thinking about Ginny for a long while before slowly drifting off to sleep.


~*~


Ginny sadly followed her brothers through Platform 9 ¾--already it was the end of summer, and everyone was leaving her this year. Charlie and Bill did not live at home anyway, and now Ron was going to join Fred, George and Percy at Hogwarts, which left Ginny all alone without any siblings to keep her company. Not to mention the fact that Draco was leaving for school as well.

“Now, what’s the platform number?” asked her mother as she struggled to keep track of the four boys.

“Nine and three-quarters!” Ginny said eagerly, “Mom, can’t I go . . .”

“You’re not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet,” replied her mother. Ginny sadly shuffled her feet along the ground—she was never old enough to do anything. Not only did she have to be the youngest, but she was also the only girl, so it seemed to her that they were even more cautious with her. Ginny watched her brothers pass through the platform, and a black haired boy who seemed completely lost. Then she and her mother passed through, and Ginny saw the glorious Hogwarts Express, shining brilliantly. Students were bustling all around her, and she lost her mother in the crowd—it happened every year though. She knew she would find her mother once the crowd died down. Besides, her mother was distracted by getting the four boys and all of their luggage onto the train before it was time to leave. She sighed and stood, watching students pile onto the train. Someone tapped her from behind.

“Hey Gin,” said Draco, holding out his arms, “I just wanted to say good-bye before I go.” Ginny gladly accepted the hug.

“Where are your parents, aren’t they here to see you off?” She asked curiously, her mother always watched her brothers until the train was out of sight every year.

“Oh, they just dropped me off here and left, they had important business to take care of,” he said, shrugging, as he gave her another hug. “I’ll see you in a year, okay?”

Suddenly, Ginny felt a lump well up inside her throat as the reality of how everyone was leaving dawned on her for real. “I’ll miss you,” she whispered, looking at him through teary eyes.

Draco had not seen her cry before, and it certainly unnerved him. She was usually so optimistic and happy, and now she was teary eyed and uncertain. “It’ll be all right,” he said, trying to think of what to say to consol her. “I’ll write you, and next year you’ll be there too.”

Ginny buried her head in his shoulder for a moment, and then looked up, “I’ll see you next summer,” she said, giving him another hug before releasing. Draco smiled at her, and then started towards the train. Ginny wandered back through the crowd in the direction of her mother, where Fred, George and Ron were saying their last good-byes.

“Ron, you’ve got something on your nose,” her mother said as she tried to brush off something from Ron’s nose. Ginny laughed as the twins teased her brother. Suddenly, Percy strode over from the front of the train, proudly displaying his prefect badge. They all said their good-byes, and the twins told their mother about how they had seen Harry Potter.

Ginny had heard many tales about Harry Potter, “Oh, Mom, can I go see him, Mom, oh please . . .” Ginny heard herself say, trying to think of one last way to go join her brothers on the train.

“You’ve already seen him, Ginny, and the poor boy isn’t something you goggle at in a zoo,” her mother told her. Ginny zoned out on the rest of the conversation, looking up and down the windows of the train. As her brothers climbed onto the train, she noticed Draco through one of the windows several cars back. She smiled at him, but suddenly, she could not handle everyone leaving her and she burst into tears as Fred, George and Ron were leaning out the window to say their final good-byes.

The train slowly began to pull away from the platform, and Ginny chased after it, hysterically torn between tears and laughter. She could not bear to have everyone leave her—if only she were a year older. The train was moving away too fast now, and she could not keep up—she was going to run out of platform soon anyway. Defeated, Ginny stopped chasing the train, and resigned herself to waving at her brothers and Draco as the train chugged off into the distance and out of sight


~*~


Draco gazed sorrowfully back to where Platform 9 ¾ had disappeared out of sight. What he would not give to be able to spend time with people who were not so stuffy and fake. He looked around the compartment he was sitting in. He was surrounded by his father’s friend’s children—the people he had been forced to befriend despite their utter stupidity. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle were sitting in the corner of the compartment, making animalistic grunting noises and fighting over a box of Chocolate Frogs and Pumpkin Pasties. Pansy Parkinson, the girl his father had hinted at to be an excellent choice of a female mate, was sitting by herself, but staring at Draco expectantly, as though he was supposed to start some sort of conversation with her.

He rolled his eyes and allowed a smug expression to cover his face. It was not his problem she was bored, nor was it his problem that she chose to sit with him and the dunces in the corner. He did not fancy her presence—he had better things to do than discuss the latest gossip with her as she blatantly flirted with him. Abruptly standing, Draco motioned for Crabbe and Goyle to follow him. He felt like wandering the rest of the train, and although he was not fond of those two, they had a foreboding aura about them which would help to keep the other first years in their place.

Draco started down the corridor, peering into the windows of the compartments as he passed. Many of them were full of older students, clearly distracted by reminiscing with their friends, and catching up on each other’s summer breaks. Several compartments down, he looked in and saw Blaise Zabini reading a large book. Draco had been introduced to Blaise by his father once. His father was not overly fond of the Zabini’s, but Blaise was pureblood, and it was acceptable for Draco to befriend him.

Leaving Crabbe and Goyle out in the hallway so they could get food from the food cart, Draco stepped into Blaise’s compartment and said hello to him, asking him how his family was and about his summer. He also met a large girl in there named Millicent Bulstrode. Her name sounded familiar, but he knew he had never met her—he would have remembered her heavy, square set figure. Nevertheless, he introduced himself as his father had told him to—he figured he best meet as many people as possible.

“Hello, my name is Draco Malfoy,” he said firmly, putting a certain emphasis on his surname. Anyone honorable in the wizarding world would know of his last name—his father had said so.

“Ahh, Draco Malfoy, my family has told me so much about your family,” Millicent said, shaking his hand. Draco smiled smugly in response.

“So Draco,” started Blaise, peering over the top of his book, “Did you hear about Harry Potter? They say he’s in the compartment next to ours.” Draco tried not to show any expression at this statement—Malfoys never showed facial expression other than smugness. His father had always told him to never let people know what he was thinking. He never had—except with Ginny, of course. Draco knew he should probably visit Harry Potter next—he would certainly be someone important to befriend.

Draco curtly nodded at Blaise and responded, “Yes, I heard about that,” even though he had not. Draco did not want them to think that he cared about such petty details as where Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, was sitting on the train. Draco said his farewells, and turned to go next door to Harry Potter’s compartment.

He looked into the window, and he noticed the compartment was empty except for Harry Potter—who happened to be the same black-haired boy from Madam Malkin’s shop, and a red-hair boy. Draco gestured to Crabbe and Goyle to stop gorging and to join him. Draco stepped inside the compartment regally, looking down upon the two boys, who seemed to be caught up in some sort of story about Quidditch.

“Is it true?” Draco asked curiously, but with an air of superiority, “They’re saying all down the train that Harry Potter’s in this compartment. So it’s you, is it?”

“Yes,” said Harry, who seemed uncertain as to Draco’s motives, and was looking timidly to Crabbe and Goyle’s huge frames. He looked somewhat unnerved by the whole situation, and he did not seem to want to talk about himself all that much.

“Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle,” Draco offered, gesturing towards the large figures standing to his sides. “And my name’s Malfoy, Draco Malfoy,” he said, putting that certain emphasis on his surname again, so Harry Potter would be sure not to forget it. The red haired boy coughed slightly, as though he was trying to hide laughter under his breath. Draco’s father had told him not to allow people to mock him. Draco sneered and looked haughtily at the red-haired boy, “Think my name’s funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford.” The ginger-haired boy looked taken aback and very upset at Draco’s comment. Draco did not care though—if there was one family his father had told him to avoid, it was most certainly the Weasleys. He turned back to Harry and continued, “You’ll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.” Draco knew that he was offering Harry the best advice—after all, this was the single most important thing his father had ever told him. Draco held his hand out to Harry, offering a handshake to seal the friendship.

Harry stared at Draco in disbelief, and refused to return Draco’s handshake. “I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks,” he said, completely rejecting Draco. Feeling a slight blush rise to his cheeks, Draco indignantly stared at Harry for a moment—how could he shun Draco Malfoy’s friendship? Draco would have to tell his father about this; never before had he been rejected by anyone. He was less than pleased. Contemplating whether to ignore Harry’s blatant dismissal, or whether to try to convince Harry the benefits of his friendship, Draco remembered the stories his father had told him, and then said slowly, “I’d be careful if I were you, Potter, unless you’re a bit politer you’ll go the same way as your parents. They didn’t know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it’ll rub off on you.” He had not meant for his statement to sound as offensive as it did, but as soon as he had finished speaking, both Harry and Ron stood suddenly, glaring daggers at him.

“Say that again,” Ron said angrily, practically inviting Draco to fight him.

Draco did not intend to fight though—his father had brought him up better than that. He sneered at that darned Weasley and fiercely said “Oh, you’re going to fight us, are you?” Draco had always been told never to start fights, but if someone were to pick a fight with him, then he was more than welcome to finish it.

“Unless you get out now,” stated Harry, still standing and ready to fight if necessary. Draco noticed he seemed a little timid, but he was doing a decent job at hiding it in his voice. Smirking, Draco stared at Harry Potter a moment more before speaking again.

“But we don’t feel like leaving, do we, boys? We’ve eaten all our food and you still seem to have some.” He glanced towards Crabbe and Goyle, giving them visual affirmation that they could wreak havoc. Goyle grinned and reached out towards the Chocolate Frogs that were sitting next to Weasley. Draco watched as the Weasley began to jump forward, trying to stop Goyle—Draco knew it would not work though. Weasley was clearly no match for Goyle. However, just as Goyle was about to close his giant hand over a Chocolate Frog, he had pulled away, quick as lightning, yelling horribly and shaking his hand in pain. Draco looked and saw a nasty old rat hanging off of Goyle’s finger. Not wanting to get in trouble, Draco gestured for Crabbe to leave, and as soon as Goyle had catapulted the rat from his finger into the window, the three of them scampered off to return to their compartment.

There was no one en route to their compartment, and when they got there Draco was pleased to see that Pansy had left. She was a waste of his time anyway—he would rather talk to girls like Ginny, who were not as concerned as class and social standing. He rolled his eyes at Goyle, who was making strange animalistic noises which sounded like an odd mixture of whimpering and grunting as he tried to stop the bleeding on his finger.

Draco, not wanting to talk to them any more, pulled on his luxurious school robes over his clothes, and retreated to the corner of the compartment, where he fully intended to sit and enjoy his solitude. He could see that he was not off to such a great start. He had managed to make an enemy of the Weasley (which he had anticipated), but he had also alienated Harry Potter as well. Draco had not meant to upset Potter, but it had just happened—how was he to know that Potter did not value class and having pureblood friends. Draco shook his head and stared out the window. Perhaps he would write to Ginny once he was settled in his chambers—he could tell her about his first day, probably leaving out the bad parts. She would get upset if he told her about his pursuit of pureblood friends—she was pureblooded, but she was not fond of those who were particular about such things. She pretty much liked everybody. He sighed and laid back into his seat, waiting for the train to arrive at Hogwarts.


~*~


“Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here!” Draco heard a loud voice call. He looked over, and saw that giant oaf Hagrid standing, waving maniacally trying to attract all the first years’ attention. Draco could not believe anyone could possibly miss that fool. Draco idly listened as Hagrid told them to get into groups of four, as he ushered them onto little boats.

Draco found himself in the company of Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy Parkinson, who was fawning over him again. In order to distract himself from her ridiculous antics, Draco mused as to how the small boat could possibly hold the weight of Crabbe and Goyle without snapping in half and sinking to the bottom of the lake. Obviously, the boats must have been magically reinforced, because it was just not physically possible otherwise.

Upon reaching the shore, Draco yawned as the first years filed out of the boats and timidly followed Hagrid up to the front of the castle gates. They seemed amazing by the huge castle, and they all walked, wide eyed with their mouths gaping open, staring at the many towers and turrets. Draco rolled his eyes—the castle was extraordinary, but honestly, were they expecting anything less? Hogwarts was supposed to be one of the greatest wizarding schools of all time—some of the most famous witches and wizards had gone to Hogwarts. Draco was surprised at how stunned his fellow classmates were.

Hagrid knocked soundly on the castle gates, thrice, and they promptly swung open to reveal a very severe looking witch. Draco distractedly listened to her tell everyone about Hogwarts and the four school houses. Honestly, if they did not know what the four houses were already, then they did not belong here. Draco already knew which house he would be in—his father had told him. Slytherin. It was where many of the most powerful witches and wizards had been; his father himself had been in Slytherin. Draco smiled smugly at the rest of the scared students standing around him, nervously talking to each other about what house they wanted to be in.

Soon enough, the first years were walking into the Great Hall to the sorting ceremony. Draco was getting tired of this whole introduction ritual. He just wanted to be sorted to he could sit down and eat. The sorting went quicker than he expected, and soon enough he was sitting at the Slytherin table, sampling the many varieties of Hogwarts food. He had to admit, the Hogwarts house elves were very talented chefs. He looked around the Great Hall, noticing where all the other first years had gotten sorted. Crabbe, Goyle, Zabini and Pansy had all gotten sorted into Slytherin, along with some other students—most of which Draco had met before through his father. He knew many of the older Slytherins as well. He looked over to the Gryffindor table, where Harry Potter was sitting, along with an obnoxious fluffy-haired brunette he had met in the halls, and a whole clan of Weasleys. His father was right—Weasleys were downright horrible, with their bright, clashing hair, and their secondhand apparel. At least Ginny was not a Weasley. Well, he did not know that for sure, seeing as he did not know Ginny’s surname; however, he was fairly certain that the Weasley family was comprised of six sons. His father had never spoken of a Weasley girl. Draco glanced around at the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables—he had seen a few of those students before, but his father associated mostly with Slytherins.

After finishing his meal and listening to Headmaster Dumbledore lead the school in a horrible rendition of what he called the ‘school song,’ Draco was finally able to head to his private chambers. He had gotten the password to his dormitory from a prefect at dinner, and he had found the Slytherin common room easily—his father had given him vague directions on how to get to all the most important places on campus, like the dorms, the Quidditch field, and the kitchens. He said the password (‘superiority’), and retreated into his private chambers, where his trunk was already sitting.

Draco pulled a piece of parchment from his truck and his best black quill, and sat down at his desk and wrote a simple letter to Ginny, detailing his day—or the better parts of it. He dripped a few dots of hot wax to seal it, and summoned his owl to take the letter to Ginny. After, he checked his appearance in the mirror, wiping the imaginary dust off of his robes, before he headed out into the common room to regally greet his dorm mates.

A/N: This is just the first part of Draco's first year--it used to be one big chapter, but I split it because I decided to do smaller chapters from now on, and this one was just too long.

This is the second part of Draco's first year--it used to be one chapter, but then I split it up.

Ginny lay on her bed at the Burrow, staring boredly at the ceiling. Her brothers had only left that morning, and already she had ran out of things to do. After her parents had taken her home, she stole Ron’s training broom and rode it around in the backyard, snuck candies out of Fred and George’s secret hiding spots, and leafed through all of Percy’s books and papers to find an empty notebook that she could use as a journal. Her mother had made dinner, and now there was nothing for Ginny to do. She figured her mother and father were downstairs, spending some much needed ‘alone’ time that they never got when her entire family was home.

Suddenly, Ginny heard the tapping of an owl at her window. Pulling open her curtains, she was ecstatic to see Draco’s glorious eagle owl waiting patiently for her to open the window and receive the letter tied to his leg. She quickly unfastened the letter from his leg, and allowed him into the room. She opened the letter and read it happily.

Ginny,
How are you? I am at Hogwarts now in my dorm room. We just finished dinner, and as soon as I finish this letter and send it I shall go into the common room to meet my many dorm mates. The train ride was long, but it was okay. I met several new people there, and many people that my father had already introduced me to. The sorting ceremony was very tedious, and I was sorted into Slytherin—the same house my father was in. Perhaps next year you’ll be in Slytherin too. I hope you are having a good time at home, enjoying your last year before school. Hopefully I’ll see you sometime before the end of term, if not, I’ll see you next summer. I miss you.

-Draco

She quickly scampered into Percy’s room and stole a piece of parchment and a quill from his desk so she could respond to Draco. She penned him a letter describing the utter boredom of her day alone, and how she wished she could be there with him. She signed her name with a flourish (she had been practicing her signature) and she tied the letter onto Draco’s owl before sending him on his way.

She sat down on her bed, contemplating the next year. It would not be so bad if Draco continued to correspond by mail—she usually wrote to her brothers several times a term, and they would send letters and strange objects they stole from around Hogwarts. She smiled as she reached her arms over her head and stretched, before collapsing back onto her bed and falling into a deep sleep.


~*~


During the next few weeks, Draco settled into his classes. Crabbe and Goyle tended to follow him wherever he went, but he did not mind. They were not very intelligent, but they were intimidating. He met many Slytherins, most of whom looked up to him—just has his father had said they would. There was just something about the name ‘Malfoy’ which struck a certain fear in many people. The Slytherins knew that he was not one to be bothered, but rather they treated him as though he were a god. The rest of the school avoided him—not wanting to get in the way of him and his cronies. Draco certainly did not mind—they were probably not worth his time anyway.

The one student who Draco was trying to befriend was Harry Potter—but after their unfortunate meeting, Harry had taken to associating himself with not only the Weasley, but a Mudblood named Granger as well. Draco figured he still had a chance with Harry, but after he spent his first Potions class laughing at Harry’s lack of knowledge, he soon after realized that Harry Potter hated him.

At their first flying class—the only other class the Slytherins shared with the Gryffindors, Draco had tried to show off his flying skills, amazing his classmates with his smoothness. However, Harry had one upped him by not only joining him in the air, but pulling off a magnificent dive. Draco had been gleeful when Professor McGonagall had caught Harry in his dive—but he had been very unpleased (and bitter) when Harry managed to weasel his way onto the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

Draco wondered how Harry could have pulled that off—probably because he was a celebrity, the Boy Who Lived, the one who defeated Voldemort. Draco certainly was jealous of his success, not that he could ever admit it. It seemed like there was no way to bring Harry Potter down—not even when Draco tried to set him up for a Wizard’s Duel at midnight and then tip Fitch off. Harry Potter managed to escape from that one unscathed as well. Draco did not hate Harry Potter, but it seemed as though Harry was better than him at everything—except Potions of course. Well, Draco was better academically than Harry in many classes, but Harry’s Mudblood friend was the top of everything academic, and Harry was able to weasel his way out of any situation.

Draco envied Harry’s many successes as the year progressed. Every once in a while, Draco would try something, just to prove that Harry was human—but Harry seemed to evade punishment from everything. Harry had even won the Slytherin-Gryffindor match (60-170) after almost falling off his broom. Draco was almost afraid of going home for Christmas, because his father was sure to be furious that Draco was not on the house Quidditch team, and he was not at the top of his class.

Soon enough, the Christmas holidays arrived and he reluctantly returned home to his father. When he arrived at the Manor, his mother was out getting a facial, and his father stalked off to his study, where he engaged himself in something hushed and secret. Draco bitterly walked up to his room, where he laid down on his bed and pulled out his many letters from Ginny. All through the year they had been writing back and forth about life. Ginny claimed that she had been horribly bored for the entire time, not having much to do other than visit the Ministry with her father or home schooling with her mother. Draco, on the other hand, had complained of the coursework and all the unfairness of treatment of people. He never used names, because he did not want to confuse Ginny, but he always wrote her precisely what was on his mind, because she was the only person that would listen. He had never tried telling anyone else, but he was fairly certain that anyone in Slytherin that heard his true feelings about Harry Potter or Hogwarts in general would use it as blackmail somehow, rather than try to help him. Ginny, however, was always supportive.

Draco read Ginny’s most recent letter, in which wished him a Merry Christmas and told him that she would be spending the holidays in Romania with her mother, father and brother. She also wrote that she missed him very much, and that she would send him something from Romania. He sighed disappointedly—he had hoped he would be able to see her at the Ministry sometime during the holidays. Perhaps he would go there tomorrow just to check—his father was planning to speak to Cornelius Fudge about something important, and Ginny had wrote that she would not be leaving for several more days. Maybe she would be there…

The next day Draco arose bright and early to make sure his father would not leave without him. Soon after Draco was ready, his father emerged from his study, and the two of them left for the Ministry.

After receiving his visitors badge and registering his wand, Draco headed to the waiting room where he had always met Ginny during the past years. He sat down on the couch and picked up the latest Quibbler from the table and flipped through it aimlessly.

He read for several hours, bored out of his mind. He had all but given up hope that Ginny might show up when he heard a cheerful laughter in the hallway. He looked up quickly and saw a ginger haired girl waving good-bye to a dark haired girl down the hall before turning into the waiting room.

Ginny looked into the room and saw Draco waiting for her on the couch. Draco smirked as she stood there for a moment in complete shock and disbelief. Then she dropped the book she was carrying and she ran across the room and gave him a huge hug, practically squeezing all the air out of him. Draco smiled smugly and hugged her back—he had missed this during his months at Hogwarts.

Breaking away, Ginny grinned at him before breaking out into a rapid ramble about Romania and Christmas. Then she started asking him countless questions about Hogwarts, which he struggled to answer whenever she paused to take a breath from her ridiculously long one-sided conversation. When she finally finished saying everything that she could have possibly thought of, she suddenly reached forward and pulled him into another hug. Draco could only assume that she had spent the entire time he had been at Hogwarts by herself and her parents, who must not be very interesting for her to talk to.

They sat and talked for several hours, enjoying each others company and discussing Christmas, school, and Ginny’s loneliness.

“You know,” started Draco, “You could probably find someone else to talk to while I’m at school…” He smiled as she blushed about her long rambling conversation.

She smiled and responded, “I would, except you’re the only person I know who will talk about anything with me without hiding things.” She had a fleeting thought of her brothers, who all hid details from her in order to protect her. They would never let her grow up.

“Why would I hide anything from you?” Draco asked curiously. He was always bluntly honest whenever possible, except perhaps with his father, who would probably wring Draco if he said anything in opposition.

Ginny smiled weakly, “I know you won’t,” she started, “but my family never tells me anything because they all want to protect me… But it’s okay, because I know I can tell you anything!” She added excitedly, before breaking into another long, complicated story about a strange girl she had met at the Ministry a few weeks ago. Draco could feel a smile fighting to emerge on his face as he stared at the girl he had known for so many years. She was always easygoing and free—so unlike anyone in Slytherin. Draco did not understand how his father would not enjoy someone like Ginny—there was nothing not to like about her. He had a brief inclination that he should just ignore his father’s wishes and befriend everyone at Hogwarts—there had to be someone else with Ginny’s spirit that he could spent time with… Abruptly, he snapped back to reality as he noticed a dark figure looming in the doorway to the waiting room. He felt his heart jump and start thumping heavily in his chest.

Lucius Malfoy walked up to Draco and grasped him severely by the shoulder and whisked him out of the room, shooting Ginny a disgusted glare in the process. Ginny gasped and stopped talking and stared at Lucius in shock for a moment before transferring her wide-eyed gaze to Draco. All Draco had time to do was offer Ginny a sympathetic expression and mouth out ‘I’ll write you later,’ before his father dragged him out of sight.

With Lucius still clasping Draco’s shoulder, Draco trailed awkwardly down the hallway, afraid to look up at his father. “How dare you associate with that Muggle-loving piece of filth?” Lucius asked his son angrily, glaring fiercely into his eyes. Draco could feel his pounding in his ears—he felt like he was going to explode. Lucius dropped his voice to a low, threatening tone and continued, “I’m very disappointed. I thought I taught you better than that.” Lucius turned and walked briskly towards the Floo fireplaces, Draco in tow.

Draco could still feel his heart beating rapidly. He had never expected his father to find him talking to Ginny. At least they had not been hugging or playing games—she had only been telling a story. Perhaps Draco would be able to tell his father that she was just talking to herself, and he was mocking her. However, as he was contemplating his situation, his father Floo-ed back to the Manor, leaving Draco standing alone next to the fireplace. He briefly considered running back to Ginny to apologize, but decided against it. His father would never forgive him if he did that; he would just have to explain his father’s behavior in a letter. Defeatedly, Draco stepped into the Floo fireplace and transported back to the Manor.


~*~


Ginny stared at the door where a man had just come and taken Draco out of the room. He was that pale, pointy man—the one her father was always yelling at about Muggles, blood purity and raids. Was that Draco’s father? She could not quite remember what the man’s name was—only that he was very well known, and usually up to no good, or so her father said. Ginny sighed. It was very nice to be able to see Draco again, but she did not understand why his father had taken him away so abruptly—or why he seemed to dislike her so much. However, if that was Draco’s father, it would explain Draco’s haughty attitude. Draco was never conceited with her, but she could see it in the way he acted sometimes, as though he was brought up to be arrogant and self-important. He tended to lighten up whenever he was with her though, it sometimes took her a few minutes, but underneath his smug expressions was the friendly Draco she loved to spend time with.

Ginny sat down on the sofa and pulled out her Visitor’s Guide to Romania and tried to read; however, she was distracted by thoughts of Draco. He had seemed very distant today, as though he was afraid to show emotion with her. She remembered him being very difficult before, but he had never taken so long to warm up before. Absentmindedly twirling her hair around her finger, she wondered if Hogwarts had changed Draco. She shrugged and turned her attention back to the book—there was nothing she could do about Draco’s smugness, not now anyway. Perhaps next time she saw him she would break his shields, and then they would laugh like they always used to.


~*~


Draco could not remember a time that his father had been more upset. Probably because Draco had not had many opportunities to do anything wrong. Regardless, Draco was scared beyond all belief. His father had immediately stalked off to his study, leaving Draco alone to think about his wrongdoings. Draco knew he should have never talked to Ginny, she was too different. She was everything he had been missing during his empty childhood—but it seemed as though his father believed that joy and carefree fun something that should forever remain absent.

Slowly trudging upstairs to his bedroom, Draco continued to wonder about what the consequences of his actions would be. His father clearly knew something about Ginny and her family that Draco was not aware of—either that or his father was prejudiced against everyone he did not know. Draco was not sure that he wanted to know what was so wrong with Ginny—she was too good a friend to lose. Perhaps he could correspond with her in secrecy, and he could avoid meeting her at the Ministry. It would not be too hard, seeing as he spent most of his time at Hogwarts.

Draco climbed into his bed and curled into a ball under the warm covers. He had no intention of facing his father tonight if he could avoid it. He grabbed one of his pillows and hugged it under the sheet, trying to squeeze his anxiety out. He tried to punch the pillow, but his arm got tangled in his sheets and he gave up. He lay flat on his back, intently staring at the ceiling, waiting to see if an answer suddenly came to him.

As he began drifting off to sleep, he was startled back to consciousness as his father slowly opened the door and curtly said his name before retreated downstairs. Draco knew it was his father’s way of saying that Draco was to follow him downstairs so they could talk. Or rather, Lucius would tell Draco exactly what he thought, and Draco would blindly agree—not that he was ever able to disagree. He had tried once, and he had gotten punished severely for being ‘disrespectful’ and ‘disregarding his father’s advice’—his father had hit him with the Cruciatus Curse only for a split second, but the pain was enough to teach him a lifelong lesson—never to disagree with his father, period.

Draco hesitantly went downstairs to meet his father, trying to find ways to stall and prevent the inevitable. After stalling for several moments to no avail, Draco met his father in his study. Lucius was sitting regally in his chair, regarding Draco with extreme distaste. “You are not to consort with that girl ever again,” Lucius said maliciously. “You are wasting your time with Muggle-loving pieces of rubbish, and you are disregarding your priorities. What is this I hear about Harry Potter on the house Quidditch team as a first year? And you are letting a Mudblood best you in every academic class?” He asked rhetorically. Draco could feel his face heat up as he lowered his head—he might as well admit defeat to his father; after all, his father was entirely correct. Harry Potter was the Quidditch champion and he could weasel his way out of all sorts of trouble. Potter’s Mudblood friend was better than Draco in every class except for Potions, which was probably because Snape was severely biased against Gryffindors.

Draco had a slight inclination to try to defend himself—to tell his father that it was not his fault. Draco could not help it if the world loved Harry Potter. However, he decided against it—he was better than Harry Potter, and he would prove it to his father somehow. He looked up and met his father’s eyes, “I’m sorry,” he said curtly in submission.

Lucius glared at his son for a moment longer before replying, “I expect that you will ameliorate the situation. And avoid the Muggle-lovers and Mudbloods.” He glowered at Draco until he seemed satisfied that Draco had understood his message, and then he turned back to his desk and proceeded to leaf through a pile of important looking documents. Draco took this as his cue to leave, and he retreated back to his room so he could think. He pulled out a quill and pen and started writing a letter to Ginny.

Ginny,
I’m so sorry about today at the Ministry. My father was upset with me; it was not your fault. I hope you enjoy your time in Romania. I enjoyed talking to you today, and I’ll miss you when I return to school.

-Draco

He stared at the letter for a moment—it was very short, uninteresting, and a huge lie. Ginny had been the reason his father was so upset, and Draco still did not know why. Draco crumpled up the letter and shredded it into pieces before cautiously sneaking downstairs and burning them in the fireplace. He would write her once he returned to Hogwarts, when it was safer. As much as he wanted to please his father, he could not help feeling that Ginny deserved some sort of explanation as to what happened at the Ministry.

He pulled out another piece of parchment and stared at it, wondering what she was doing right now. She was probably at home having fun with her family and packing for Romania. He doubted that she had to deal with a harsh father like he did. Sucking on the end of his quill, he thought a moment longer before writing the exact same words he had written to her an hour ago. Then, before he could change his mind, he sealed the letter and gave it to his owl.


~*~


Ginny was tearing apart her room looking for her favorite jumper, when she suddenly heard a sharp rapping on her window. She glanced over distracted from ravaging under her bed to see Draco’s owl tapping haughtily on the window. She felt her heart leap as she quickly jumped up and opened the window. She untied the letter with trembling fingers and opened it. Much to her dismay, the letter told her nothing about his father’s motives for his actions at the Ministry. In fact, Draco’s letter was very vague and essentially pointless.

She sat down on her bed holding his letter in her left hand while scratching her head with her right hand, wondering what was going on with him. He could not have suddenly decided not to talk to her—something must be wrong. Biting her tongue in concentration, Ginny tried to determine what could be bothering Draco, but she was at a loss. Dejectedly, she stole a fresh piece of parchment from Percy’s room and wrote him a letter asking what was really wrong, and wishing him a Merry Christmas. Unable to think of anything else substantive to say, she tied the letter onto Draco’s owl and sent him home.

Ginny watched his owl fly swiftly out into the distance and out of sight. She carefully picked up the letter she had just received and folded it neatly and placed it in her secret spot where the rest of his letters were concealed. Then she turned back to her bed and resumed her packing for Romania.


~*~


Returning to the Slytherin common room after the Christmas holidays, Draco was not sure whether to feel happy because he was away from his father, or upset that he had to deal with Harry Potter again. He had been back barely ten minutes, and already he had heard half a dozen people talking about the upcoming Quidditch match, Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff. Apparently, if Gryffindor overtook Hufflepuff, they would be in the lead for the Quidditch Cup, giving the chance to beat Slytherin for the first time in seven years. Draco was less than pleased at this tidbit of information, and he was increasingly unhappy at the thought of Gryffindor winning, because it would just be another victory of Harry Potter.

Angrily, he stalked out of the common room, looking for something to punch. It was just too much—his father was taking away his friends, the Mudblood beating him academically, and Harry Potter beating him at everything else. His father expected so much from him, and he did nothing. All he managed to do was upset his father further—if only he could do something to win over his father. Elated for a moment, dreaming of making his father proud, Draco felt a smug smile rise to his face.

Suddenly, he ran into someone and almost fell over. Looking down at the ground, he saw Neville Longbottom sitting on the ground looking up at him fearfully. Angry that anyone had dared to cross his path, he performed a leg locker curse on Neville and contributed some snide comments before continuing on his evening walk.

Running into Neville had knocked some sense into him—he realized that no matter how hard he tried, his father would never be pleased. Draco would never be good enough, and even if he was, his father would never tell him. It just was not in his nature. Draco sighed miserably and returned to his common room.

School started again, and Draco was torn between following his father’s orders, and wanting to experience his life for himself. He wrote Ginny a real letter, leaving out what his father thought of her, but she seemed to accept his story, and in return she wrote back support for whatever he chose to do. He wished Ginny could be with him so he would not have to deal with all the insufferable gits at Hogwarts. It was nearly time for the next Quidditch match, and he could not bear to watch Harry Potter take away Slytherin’s Quidditch title. He tried to avoid anyone who obsessed about the match outcome—he had taken to avoiding Potter as much as possible as well, not that it was very possible, because talk of the magnificent Harry Potter was everywhere.

The day of the match rolled around, and he managed to get into a fight with Weasley and Longbottom after accidentally bumping Weasley in the back with his wand. The only good that came from the fight was that he did not have to watch Potter catch the Snitch, and Longbottom injured Crabbe and Goyle enough that Draco did not have to deal with them for the remainder of the day.

Several weeks later, Draco was wandering the hallways just after breakfast when he overheard Weasley talking to Granger—something about a dragon hatching. Draco frowned—dragon eggs were banned, why would they be talking about that? Then he realized—the giant oaf Hagrid had procured an illegal dragon egg and it was about to hatch. He felt an evil smile curl onto his face—he finally had a way to get Potter and his friends in trouble… And that fool Hagrid. There was no way they could fight the law. He felt his spirits lifting; finally he could do something to make his father proud. He knew his father hated Hagrid, Draco was not sure why, but he knew that if he got rid of him, his father would be pleased. He paused for a moment, wondering what Ginny would think if she knew what he was planning to do, but he tried to push it to the back of his mind as he happily continued plotting.

Later that day, Draco snuck down to Hagrid’s miserable little hut and peeked through the window. Sure enough, the Golden Trio was sitting there, entranced by a large cracked egg on the table. He cocked his head to the side as he stared at the hatching—it really was very interesting. He had always had an interest in dragons, and to see a dragon hatch was probably a once in a lifetime experience. He watched as the egg split open and a small black dragon with spiny wings popped out. Fascinated, he watched as the dragon sneezed and Hagrid reached to stroke the dragon, as though it were a cat. Suddenly, Hagrid turned towards the window. The color drained from his face—Draco knew he had been spotted. Draco turned quickly and ran as fast as he could back to the school—he knew he had been seen, but he did not wish to cause any trouble at the current moment. He had plenty of blackmail to save for a later time.

The next week, Draco had gotten word through rumors (the one thing Pansy was good for) that Weasley had gone to the hospital wing with a swollen hand. Knowing the true cause of Weasley’s injury, Draco went to the Hospital Wing, claiming to want to borrow one of his books. Draco was still a little bitter about the black eye he had received from fighting Weasley at the Quidditch match, so he just wanted to have a laugh at him on his way to his next class. Once he arrived, he saw the Weasel sitting on the hospital bed, glaring at him. Draco smiled wickedly and grabbed one of Weasley’s books, flipping it open. “Nasty bite you got there,” he said, laughing evilly. “Don’t mind if I borrow this, do you?” he asked before turning on his heel and walking out of the hospital wing.

He laughed to himself as he reentered the hallway, leafing through Weasley’s battered textbook. Just then, a piece of parchment fluttered out of the book and fell on the ground. Curious, Draco picked it up and read it—it was a letter from Weasley’s brother, arranging a pick-up time for the dragon. Draco stared at it for a moment—there were so many things he could do with this. For starters, he could turn in Harry Potter and his friends, and they would finally get what they deserved. Either that or he could sneak up to the tower to see the dragon again—although he hated Harry Potter, they were pretty lucky to be able to see the baby dragon up close.

Saturday night, Draco snuck towards the tower to see the dragon one final time. Standing behind a large pillar, he watched Harry Potter, Hagrid and Granger struggle to drag the crate with the dragon up to the tallest tower. He stood for a moment, wondering whether to alert someone as to what they were doing, or just watch them struggle. Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain on his ear—he struggled to look up, and much to his dismay, Professor McGonagall was glaring at him in her tartan bathrobe and a hairnet.

“Detention!” she yelled while tugging on his ear. Draco winced as she continued, “And twenty points from Slytherin! Wandering around in the middle of the night, how dare you—”

Draco did not want to cause trouble, but if he was going to get caught, then Harry Potter had to come down with him, “You don’t understand, Professor.” He started, trying to twist out of her grip on his ear, “Harry Potter’s coming—he’s got a dragon!”

“What utter rubbish! How dare you tell such lies! Come on—I shall see Professor Snape about you, Malfoy!” Draco cringed as she dragged him towards the dungeons by his ear. He was not concerned about Snape—he was, however, upset that he was getting detention while Potter and his gang were getting off scot-free. It just was not fair. McGonagall left him with Snape, who just gave him a strange look, as if asking him why he was bothering to chase after Harry Potter in the middle of the night. Draco shrugged at him. Snape then went back to his storage area, clearly signaling that Draco should leave. Rolling his eyes at the waste of time, Draco trudged back to the Slytherin common room.

The next morning, Draco heard rumors the moment he stepped into the common room to head upstairs for breakfast. Harry Potter, the great Harry Potter of Gryffindor, had managed to lose 150 points in one night, along with some other Gryffindor first years. Draco smiled smugly—finally, Harry Potter had gotten in trouble for something. Maybe things were finally turning around…

The rest of the school year went by in a blur—he served his detention with Potter, Longbottom, and Granger in the Forbidden Forest. He had a huge fright when he saw a creepy cloaked figure drinking blood from the unicorn they found, and he had bolted, leaving Harry behind. He had felt bad for Potter for a moment, but Harry had escaped unscathed, as did his Gryffindor friends, so it did not matter. Then after that, there was a huge incident involving Quirrell, Voldemort, the Sorcerer’s Stone, and Harry Potter, which Harry had escaped from as the school’s hero… Again… The only good thing that happened in the last few weeks of school was while Potter was knocked out, the last Quidditch match was played, and due to the fact Gryffindor had no Seeker, they lost the match and Slytherin retained their title as Quidditch champions.

Draco could not wait to go home for the summer—as much as he hated his father, listening to everyone rave about how great Harry Potter was really irritated Draco. He did not hear much from the Slytherins about Potter, but the rest of the school was always buzzing about Potter’s latest antics.

Finally the banquet rolled around—Slytherin won the House Cup, until that old bat Dumbledore awarded Harry Potter and his friends several hundred points for no reason, giving them the House Cup. Once again, the Gryffindors had bested him, Draco thought furiously. There really was nothing worse than this school. Next year better not be like this, he thought. Maybe it would be better because Ginny would be here next year. Draco sighed and put his head down on the table—it was useless trying to conquer those Gryffindors.

Draco could not have been happier to get on the train to go to King’s Cross Station—finally he could relax and not hear ‘Harry Potter’ every third word. He spent the entire train ride in a compartment with Crabbe and Goyle, trying to ignore them stuffing themselves with as much food as they could find. When the train finally arrived at the station, Draco made sure he was the first off, so he could get his stuff and depart as quickly as possible.

As he was walking out of the station, he caught a glimpse of Ginny standing idly behind a large pillar. He smiled wearily at her, inviting her to come hug him. She seemed cautious, afraid that his father might pop out of nowhere and scare her away again. Draco knew his father would not be here though—they never did anything concerning him unless they had to. There was probably a Ministry Official somewhere to escort him home. Draco walked over and gave Ginny a quick hug, promising to write over the summer.

“I’ll see you in September,” he promised, doing his best to smile but failing miserably. She seemed to understand that he was reluctant to return to his father, but she also knew that he was not fond of Hogwarts, and she accepted his half-smile.

“I have to go,” she said, gesturing towards the crowds of people in the station, “I need to meet my family—it was nice to see you though,” she waved good-bye and disappeared into the crowd.

Draco stared after her, wondering what it would be like with her at Hogwarts next year. Would she be a Slytherin? He doubted it. Hopefully she would not be a Gryffindor—he was not sure he could explain a friendship with one of them. Leaving the station to go home, Draco continued to muse about his second year at Hogwarts. Maybe he needed someone like Ginny to befriend him, to keep him sane…

Maybe they could be secret friends—like they were now. Draco sighed. He would just have to wait and see; only time would tell…


A/N: I know this part was heavily from Draco’s POV, but the next couple chapters should be more mixed, because both Ginny and Draco will be at Hogwarts. I self-beta my work a billion times, but you can tell me if you see typos. Also, tell me if stuff doesn’t make sense (or if it doesn’t fit the canon), and I’ll fix it. Thankies!! Review!! It makes me happy… Motivates me to write more…

Hogwarts: Year 2

The morning sun streamed brightly through Ginny’s window, shining directly onto her bed. Ginny whined into her pillow—it was far too early to be awake, especially in the summer. She grumpily rolled over and buried herself in her blankets. She could hear Ron downstairs, talking loudly to her parents about Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and how wonderful Hogwarts had been. Ginny thought it was great that Ron knew Harry Potter—he was the hero of the wizarding world, and Ginny admired him greatly—but Ron did not need to be talking so loudly this early in the morning. Over the volume of Ron’s voice, she could also hear faint explosions coming from Fred and George’s room. She groaned—no one slept around here…

Ginny sat up and looked around her cluttered room—it had gotten particularly messy since her brothers had come back from Hogwarts. She had been having so much fun catching up with them that she had neglected her chores. Slowly sitting up and yawning loudly, she reached her arms up over her head and stretched out as best she could. Then she kicked aside the stray clothes lying on her floor to make her way over to her closet.

After getting dressed, she looked around her untidy room once more—she knew she would have to clean it later. She smiled at the corner of her bed where Draco’s letters were hidden. They had been writing quite a bit this summer—apparently his father was quite angry with Draco because he was not at the top of his class, and this made Draco write more often to escape from his home life. They completely disregarded the one incident at the Ministry the previous December. Ginny figured that if Draco was willing to risk everything to write to her, then she might as well return his letters. Besides, when he was not acting smug and distant, he was very fun to talk to.

She picked up a stray letter off her desk—she had received it just last night. She smiled as she looked at it—Draco had been raving about how his house elf had disappeared and he had to find his own dinner. Ginny rolled her eyes at the thought—he was so spoiled sometimes. She wrote him back a long letter telling him to get over it, because most people did not have house elves to do all their petty chores. She also had offered to send him the ghoul that resided in her attic, although she was fairly sure he would refuse.

They had not been able to meet at the Ministry much this summer for fear that they would be caught by Draco’s father again. Ginny still did not understand why they were sneaking around and not telling anyone about their meetings and letters, but she eventually decided she preferred it this way. In a family of seven children, she did not have a lot of privacy, so she liked being able keep some secrets. Besides, she was certain that her brothers would never cease teasing her if they knew she had a secret pen pal. Ginny imagined that they would assume that he was her boyfriend, and then they would go beat him up in order to protect her—or they would just tease her mercilessly. She never saw the logic in her brothers’ actions, but she had learned not to care. Talking to Draco was her special little secret, and no one needed to know.

Heading slowly downstairs, she eavesdropped on Ron’s conversations with her parents. “He hasn’t written at all this summer—me and Hermione have both written him loads of times and she says that he hasn’t written her either,” she heard him say. “It’s those Muggles he lives with—they don’t let him do anything.”

“Now Ron, don’t do anything rash. I’m sure he’s fine at home, they may not like magic, but I’m sure they’re fine” she could hear her mother trying to justify the situation.

Ginny scampered into the kitchen, “Good morning!” she said happily. “What’s this I hear about Harry Potter?” she asked, prompting her brother.

“Well, your lover Harry hasn’t spoken to anyone all summer, and we think something is wrong,” he said, putting a special emphasis on the word lover. All of Ginny’s brothers had been teasing her about her obsession with Harry any chance they got. Ever since she had said that she thought he was cute, they had taken to calling him her boyfriend in order to irritate her. Pouting, she sat down at the table and began to eat some breakfast. The way they teased her about Harry was yet another reason that she never intended to tell them about Draco—she did not need the mockery or the grief.


~*~


Hungry and irritated, Draco rolled out of bed in the morning to see if Dobby had returned. The stupid house elf had disappeared the previous night, and his father and mother had been out socializing so he had not had any dinner. He had tried to look for snack food, but he had been unsuccessful, and in the end he had written a lengthy cranky letter to Ginny before trying to go to sleep.

He rolled out of bed and sluggishly walked downstairs. His mother was looking in her pocket mirror, preening herself and fixing her make-up. His father was elsewhere—Draco did not care where. The less he saw his father, the better. These days, all his father did was nag him about Harry Potter and that damn Mudblood. Draco sat down grumpily at the table, and sat idly, staring at the table until Dobby brought him something to eat. Grateful that the house elf had returned but not willing to admit it, Draco began to devour the breakfast Dobby had made.

After breakfast, he wandered lackadaisically up to his room. His owl was waiting in the corner with a letter just for him. He smiled as he retrieved the letter and lay down on his bed. He loved how prompt Ginny was—mostly because she used his owl, but he appreciated it nonetheless. Smirking, he read the letter quickly. She had mocked him for being unable to find himself food, and for relying on a house elf for everything. He rolled his eyes—if she had ever had a house elf, then she would have understood his dilemma. It was just second nature to him; besides, he should not have to worry about food and cleaning when there was someone else to do it. She was probably one of those people who wanted to get house elves wages and vacations. He had a sinking suspicion that his father was right in deeming Ginny a Muggle lover. Draco knew there was nothing wrong with liking Muggles—he just was not allowed to like them because of his father.

Draco wrote a reply to Ginny and sent it on its way. He still loved how carefree and fun Ginny was, unlike the Slytherin girls. In fact, any girl that he was ‘allowed’ to like (by his fathers guidelines) was the exact opposite of Ginny. They were all malicious, cold, and power-driven—like himself, actually, but Draco did not really like himself at the moment. He was what his father wanted him to be, not who he really was. In reality, Draco was not sure if he knew who he was. Regardless, he had never met another girl like Ginny, and he would hate to lose her. Sighing loudly, he started shredding a piece of parchment nervously with his hands. If she ended up in Gryffindor, he would barely be able to talk to her without getting a huge hassle from everyone in Slytherin—and the rest of the school for that matter. He just hoped that they would still be able to talk at Hogwarts. He did not know if he would be able to cope with his father without having her to vent to.


~*~


Several days later, Ginny was woken up by the sound of her mother’s ear-piercing voice, yelling at Fred, George and Ron in the front yard. Ginny buried her head in her pillows, trying to block the sound. Eventually, the arguing stopped and everything became eerily quiet—no loud talking downstairs, and no explosions from the twin’s room. Ginny decided to seize the opportunity, and gained another hour of sleep.

Yawning loudly, she rolled out of bed a little while later. Looking around her room, she realized that she did not have anything clean to wear—now she really had to clean her room. She gave up with looking for something to wear, and started descending the stairs in her nightdress. She could hear her mother talking to her brothers, and there was another voice too. Curious, she scampered down the stairs and turned into the kitchen.

There in the kitchen, sitting at the table, was Harry Potter, eating sausages and fried eggs. Ginny shrieked and ran out of the kitchen—no one had told her Harry was coming. In the hallway, Ginny groaned and leaned back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. Now they would give her an even harder time about liking him—they would probably tell Harry too. She banged her head on the wall—she should not have reacted like that, it had only made everything more obvious.

Ginny did not even know if she liked him anyway; she had never really met him. All she had told her brothers was that he was heroic and good-looking, and of course, they took this to mean that she loved him like nothing else.

She listened carefully to the noise in the kitchen now, she could hear faint clips of conversation, most of which seemed to be about her. Disconcerted, she ran back upstairs into her room and dove headfirst onto her bed into her pillow. This was too much to deal with right now, maybe after she slept a little bit more…

When she woke up, she could hear cheery conversations from outside. Looking out her window, she realized Fred, George, Ron and Harry were all de-gnoming the backyard. She looked around her room and picked up the cleanest looking clothes she could find before piling the rest in a basket to have them cleaned. Then she headed downstairs to the kitchen to find some food while her brothers were outside—that way she would not have to deal with them.

She did her best to avoid Ron and Harry for the rest of the day, and when her father finally returned home from the Ministry, she gave him a huge hug before heading upstairs to her room. She hid silent giggles as she heard her mother scolding her father about his flying car—it was always funny to hear her father’s reaction when her mother yelled at him. Apparently her brothers had flown the car to Harry’s house last night to retrieve him. She briefly wished she had been with them so she could have flown over England in the dark. Then she realized that if she had gone, she would have gotten teased the whole way there about Harry, and the entire return trip would have been very awkward.

After the din had ceased, she sat for a moment in the silence of her room, listening to the noises of the house. She could hear a faint popping from Fred and George’s room, followed by barely audible laughter. Her mother and father were now talking quietly about something—she could not hear what. She heard Percy’s door creak open as he left his room to go use the bathroom. She smiled wickedly, now she could go steal more parchment from Percy’s room. He was the only one in the house with a plethora of parchment and ink; Ginny figured this was because he was the only person who actually did his homework. She opened the door and looked out, only to see Ron leading Harry up the stairs. Harry looked up curiously, directly at her. She looked at his bemused expression and his green eyes for a split second before she freaked out and slammed the door. She had not been expecting them to be there.

Slapping her forehand with the palm of her hand, she wondered what he thought of her. He probably believed that she was a loony with the way she kept running away. She listened carefully at the door until she heard Ron and Harry reach his room. Then she carefully crept to Percy’s room, stealing the materials that she needed before tucking them into her pocket and running back to her room.

Much to her dismay, Fred and George were sitting on her bed when she returned to her room, their faces showcasing identical mocking smiles. Knowing they were here to tease her about Harry, she shook her head resignedly and gave them a weak grin.

She ambled over to her bed and sat down between the twins, and smiled warily as they bantered about how she kept running away from Harry. She thought about the situation—it was ridiculous, honestly. Everyone enjoyed teasing her about her supposed crush on Harry Potter, which she had neither confirmed nor denied. She thought of it mostly as curiosity—after all, he was the one who defeated You-Know-Who, and here he was, in her very own house. She had never met him either, so how everyone thought she was in love with Harry was beyond her. The only detail she had learned from the whole experience was that she should never tell her brothers anything. She would never tell them about Draco—she would hate for them to torture her about him.

Sighing, she lay down on her bed and covered herself with her blankets. She could hear her brothers laughing about how she was hiding from the truth, or something like that. She buried her head in her pillow and pretended to sleep until she felt her brothers get off her bed and traipsed to their own room. She waited a few moments longer, wondering how everyone got the impression that she liked Harry. She bit her bottom lip in thought—maybe she did like him, it was too hard to tell.

Sighing, she sat up and pulled the parchment from Percy’s room from her pocket. Smoothing out the creases, she carefully inked her quill and started writing a letter to Draco.

Draco,
How are you? Is everything still all right with your father? I asked my mother, and she says that I’ll be going to Diagon Alley to get all my Hogwarts supplies in a couple weeks. Perhaps I’ll be able to see you there—I’ve missed seeing you at the Ministry. I’ve gone there only a handful of times this summer, and each time all I do is sit in the waiting room, wondering if you’ll walk in. I know your father won’t allow you to go anymore, but it’s still so lonely. I almost wanted to go there today, just to escape from my house. My brother’s friend from Hogwarts just came to my house to spend the rest of the summer here, and everyone in my family seems to think that I like him. I haven’t even met him really, so I’m not sure what they’re talking about. It’s starting to irk me though, because they won’t leave me alone about it. I was so stupid about it too, because I kept running away whenever I saw him, so he probably thinks I’m a nutter. I’m not sure what to do about it. Luckily, summer is nearly finished. I can’t wait to start school in several weeks. I hope we get to spend some time together there. I miss you!

-Ginny

She neatly folded the letter and placed it on her windowsill. The night was still young, and usually Draco sent his letters a little later in the evening. She opened her window wide enough so an owl would be able to fly in, and she left her letter in a convenient spot for his owl to pick up if he came. She placed an owl treat next to the letter and then changed into her nightdress. She stared out the window into the distance for moment—if only she could get away from all the turmoil here. She brushed her ginger hair out of her face and pulled it into a loose braid, before slowly lying down on her bed. Maybe they would stop teasing her tomorrow, she thought optimistically as she fell into a deep sleep.


~*~


Draco looked quizzically at the letter that had just come through his window—his owl had returned awfully quickly. Ginny must have left a letter for his owl to pick up—she did not normally do that unless she was troubled about something and could not wait for him to write. He read her letter, smiling at how her brother teased her about liking his friend. Draco wondered who her brother was, and his friend, since they obviously went to Hogwarts. He shrugged, he would find out soon enough—once they got to the Sorting Ceremony at Hogwarts he would finally find out her surname. He could ask her right now if he wanted, but he did not really care.

He quickly penned a letter telling her to ignore the repartee and that he would also be going to Diagon Alley next week. He wanted to think of something supportive to say to make her less upset about being teased, but he was at a loss for appropriate words, so he just told her not to worry, because in a few weeks she would be at Hogwarts and she could go be friends with anyone she wanted. He sealed the letter and gave to his owl, and then went to sleep for the night.


~*~


Ginny continued to deal with the constant ridicule from her brothers over the next week. It was starting to make her very angry. All of their attention and banter was the reason that she was getting so self-conscious around Harry. If they just stopped teasing her about him, then maybe she would be able to act normally, without having to worry about what her brothers would think about her actions.

Putting the last of her clothes neatly in her closet, she surveyed her room once more. She had taken to spending most of her time in the privacy of her bedroom, as she had a tendency to become clumsy and quiet whenever she was in the same room as Harry. However, the change in her behavior did not lessen the comments from her brothers—in fact, it seemed to increase the quantity of jokes they poked at her.

It seemed the only good thing that she had accomplished this week amid the constant teasing whenever Harry was not around, was that she had managed to completely clean her room so it was absolutely spotless. She had also written quite a few complaining letters to Draco, but he seemed to think that her dilemma was hilarious, and neglected to offer any form of support or advice.

One week after Harry had arrived at the Burrow, she was sitting down to enjoy her breakfast—her brothers were still all upstairs and sleeping. It was the first time she had been able to enjoy a silent meal without teasing comments and meaningful looks. Her mother and father were sitting with her, and they were all quietly enjoying their porridge when an owl flew through the window and dropped off six letters from Hogwarts.

Ginny smiled as she reached across the table to retreive her very own Hogwarts acceptance letter and booklist. It was so official looking, and it made her feel very grown up to finally have it. She started skimming the materials list when she heard a noise in the hallway out of the kitchen. She tried to act normal as Ron and Harry rounded the corner—she figured she should stop acting like a shy little girl in front of Harry. Ginny moved to put her spoon back in her bowl of porridge and say good morning properly, but in doing so she accidentally knocked over her bowl onto the floor.

Entirely embarrassed, Ginny crawled under the table to fetch her bowl. She could feel a crimson flush rising on her face—it was the one time she was going to try to act normal, and she had to go and do this. Her twin brothers arrived downstairs, and the room was uncharacteristically quiet as everyone sat silently, reading their letters. Finally, her brothers broke into a conversation with her mother about the cost of books.

“I expect we’ll be able to pick up a lot of Ginny’s things secondhand,” she heard her mother say. Ginny smiled weakly—everything she owned was secondhand, either passed down from her brothers, or bought from a cheap, secondhand shop. At least her mother was considerate to buy her girls clothes, although Ginny did have a large collection of her brothers’ shirts and pants that they had outgrown. She wore them to bed when her usual nightdresses were dirty.

“Oh, are you starting at Hogwarts this year?” she heard Harry ask. Flustered, Ginny just blushed, trying to think of what to say. It should have been obvious as to what to say, but it was the first time Harry had ever spoken to her. She felt her face continue to get warmer and warmer at the delay of her response, and just as she was about to respond she felt her elbow fall into the butter dish. She wanted to disappear under the table. Luckily, at that very moment Percy marched into the room proudly with his Prefect badge pinned to his chest.

Ginny sat at the table for a little while longer, idly listening to everyone else talk about Diagon Alley, school, brooms, and a letter from Hermione. Finally, Ginny excused herself and slipped quickly out of the room.

Upon reaching her bedroom, she changed her clothes, and wrote a short letter to Draco detailing the humiliation of her breakfast, and telling him that she would be at Diagon Alley the following Wednesday. Then she went downstairs to go find something to do—her brothers had disappeared with Harry to go play Quidditch out back. They never invited her to play Quidditch; the only way she could ever practice flying was to steal their brooms when they were not around, which was not very often.

Finding that there was nothing to do in her house, she quietly crept down to the paddock where her brothers and Harry were playing Quidditch. She climbed one of the bushy trees surrounding the paddock—she knew they would not see her; they never had. Distracted, she watched them as they threw apples and took turns riding Harry broom. Harry seemed like a nice boy—she just did not know him at all. Maybe someday she would—or perhaps she would find other people to talk to at Hogwarts, like Draco. If only summer would just be over, and school would finally start, Ginny thought to herself.


~*~


The following Wednesday, Draco was wandering through Knockturn Alley with his father. It was time for Draco to get all his school supplies, primarily books. However, his father had wanted to do a couple things in Knockturn Alley first, and for once, he brought Draco with him. Draco looked at his father inquisitively; his father had been very strange today, acting as though he was on a very tight time schedule. This was odd, because usually his father did everything when he wanted to, because no one would question a Malfoy. Trailing his father into Borgin and Burkes, he curiously studied his father’s seemingly prearranged actions—he seemed as though he was on a mission.

Draco looked at the different dark objects around the shop. Fascinated by their strange appearances and even stranger uses, Draco read the tags of all the displays as he followed his father over to the front desk.

“Touch nothing, Draco,” said his father curtly, just as Draco was about to reach out and touch a realistic looking, magnificently smooth glass eye. Draco put his hand down, but continued to look around the store.

“I thought you said you were going to buy me a present,” Draco remembered. His father had promised a gift after he had abruptly woken Draco in the morning and demanded that he immediately get dressed so they could leave for Knockturn Alley.

“I said I would buy you a racing broom,” said his father, waiting impatiently for service. Draco knew that his father was not used to waiting for anything.

Draco sighed and continued, “What’s the good of that if I’m not on the House team? Harry Potter got a Nimbus Two Thousand last year. Special permission from Dumbledore so he could play for Gryffindor. He’s not even that good, it’s just because he’s famous… famous for having a stupid scar on his forehead…” Draco continued bitterly. He glanced down at a shelf full of skulls and elaborated further, “…everyone thinks he’s so smart, wonderful Potter with his scar and his broomstick—”

“You have told me this at least a dozen times already,” his father retorted severely, giving Draco a menacing look which made him want to take back everything he had just said. “And I would remind you that is not—prudent—to appear less than fond of Harry Potter, not when most of our kind regard him as the hero who made the Dark Lord disappear—ah, Mr. Borgin.” Draco stared around the shop bitterly as Lucius turned to Mr. Borgin to discuss his business. Distractly, Draco stopped listening to his father and began to look around the shop. He walked over to a withered hand on a cushion and stared at it for a moment. He had no idea what it was—maybe he could use it to strangle Harry Potter. Draco resentfully narrowed his eyes as he thought about that Harry Potter. He had managed to avoid most talk of Potter all summer, but now it was back, staring him in the face. He hated it.

He pointed at the hand and obnoxiously interrupted his father, “Can I have that?” he asked.

Draco smugly smiled as Mr. Borgin abandoned his father and his ‘business’ to rush over and tell Draco about the withered hand. Not caring about the ‘Hand of Glory,’ Draco distractedly contemplated where he would be able to meet Ginny today when suddenly his father’s voice brought him back to reality. His father was talking to Mr. Borgin about him and thieves, “—if his grades don’t pick up, that may indeed all he is fit for—”

“It’s not my fault,” Draco tried to explain, “The teachers all have favorites, that Hermione Granger—”

“I would have thought you’d be ashamed that a girl of no wizard family beat you in every exam,” his father retorted. Draco glared angrily at his father—it’s not as though he had not been trying in school. The Mudblood was just everyone’s favorite; Granger, Potter, and the Weasel were teacher’s pets, everyone could see that. Draco stalked off to another part of the store and smirked to himself as he pretended to examine the tags of the objects. He was so sick of hearing everyone talk about Granger and Potter. If only he could just transfer somewhere else so he would not have to deal with it.

He reached out towards a large, black cabinet, planning to see if anything interesting was inside when he heard his father snap at him, “Come, Draco—” He followed his father out of the door and into Knockturn Alley, wondering why it had to be like this. He had never understood why he was supposed to hate Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers, he only knew that if he did not, then he would be punished. He feared that if his father found out about how much he talked to Ginny, then he would be severely disciplined; or worse, his father would do something to Ginny.

Draco trailed his father down the twisting Knockturn Alley until he could see Gringotts in the distance. Looking around Diagon Alley, Draco saw many students roaming with their parents, same as every year. However, he did not see Ginny anywhere. He could see Ron Weasley with three of his brothers and his father, looking around frantically as if they had lost someone. Maybe there were just too many Weasleys to keep track of, Draco decided.

Draco looked towards where his father had been, only to realize that his father had slipped off down the street, probably for his ‘business’ reasons, Draco thought bitterly. He looked around town once more, but there was still no sign of Ginny. Figuring the best thing to do was waiting for her somewhere, he headed towards Flourish and Blotts. That was the one place he knew she would have to go eventually to get her books. With luck, she would show up before his father came back to whisk him back to the Manor.

As Draco reached Flourish and Blotts, he was disappointed when he realized that half of the wizarding world was cramming inside the shop, lining up to see Gilderoy Lockhart, an egocentric author with a flashy smile. Draco sighed and pushed past the crowd and into the shop. He still did not see Ginny anywhere so he pressed on up the stairs to the second floor and distractedly looked at the book titles. He picked a nice large book full of hexes and curses, and positioned himself so he could see people entering and exiting the store.

About an hour into his book, he saw Ginny walk into the store with a red-haired woman who looked very familiar to Draco, although he could not exactly place her. He contemplated going downstairs to greet her, but then figured it was useless because he could barely think over the excited clamor in the store, let alone carry on a coherent conversation. He stared at Ginny a moment longer—she looked so happy—if only he could just go down there and say hello…

Draco continued to gaze distractedly at Ginny until the line had moved so that he could no longer see her. A few minutes later, he saw the Weasley twins enter the store and the older brother, and then moments after they arrived, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and that Granger girl all entered the store. Draco rolled his eyes—he was not sure that he had ever seen them do anything separately. He hid his face behind his book as he watched the Weasleys and the Golden Trio move forward towards the back of the shop.

Suddenly, Draco heard a loud shout, “It can’t be Harry Potter!” exclaimed Gilderoy Lockhart. The already loud din became positively unbearable, and Draco had a sudden urge to throw up.

Climbing to his feet, Draco threw the book back towards the shelf and headed downstairs. He turned towards the back of the store, and disgustedly watched as Lockhart grabbed Potter and smiled brilliantly for the Daily Prophet cameras. Draco listened in horror as Lockhart announced that he would be taking the Defense Against the Dark Arts position this year, and then presented Potter with a load of his books. Draco glared at Lockhart and his ridiculous smile for a moment longer before turning his attention towards Harry Potter.

Draco stalked across the room, walking up to Harry from behind. “Bet you loved that, didn’t you, Potter?” he asked menacingly, a sneer on his face. “Famous Harry Potter, can’t even go into a bookshop without making the front page.” Just then, he saw Ginny peek out from behind Harry, a mixture of shock and anger on her face. He felt his heart drop—he knew she would never approve of what he had just said to Potter—that probably explained the look on her face.

“Leave him alone, he didn’t want all that!” Ginny exclaimed, looking him in the eyes. Draco stared at her for a moment, not sure how to react. He still was unsure why she was supporting Potter, and what she was doing over here with him in the first place. She was the first person who had defied him in quite some time—probably since the last time she had spoken to him like this. But that was not the point—she had told him off in front of Potter—that would not do.

Draco glared at her and drawled, “Potter, you’ve got yourself a girlfriend!” He looked at Potter for a moment before turning his gaze back to Ginny, whose face was turning a shade of scarlet that clashed horribly with her hair. He felt bad for a moment, but at this point, there was really nothing he could say to her in front of Potter. Draco glanced to the side, and groaned as he saw Granger and the Weasel pushing through the crowd to join Potter.

“Oh, it’s you,” the Weasel started, staring at Draco disgustedly, “Bet you’re surprised to see Harry here, eh?”

Forgetting that Ginny was standing right next to Harry, Draco smirked and responded, “Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley. I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for all of those.” He smugly smiled at Ron’s flushing face—teasing the Weasel almost made up for all the bitterness he had about the Golden Trio until he looked into Ginny’s brown eyes, which were staring at him with a sort of sadness in them. He had disappointed her, somehow. He looked at her again, and then at the scarlet Weasel—he had never noticed how similar they looked.

Draco barely noticed Weasley’s father come over, or his own father grasping his shoulder. He kept wondering to himself why he had never noticed the resemblance between Ginny and the Weasleys. His head started to pound as all the memories from the past years flooded back. Everything fit—the secondhand clothing, the freckles, meeting her at the Ministry, where her father worked—she was a Weasley. That also explained why she was with Granger, Potter and the Weasel. But that meant… That meant that she was talking about her brother’s friend in the letters… Potter! She liked Potter? Draco was beginning to feel sick. It was too much to comprehend at one time. His one childhood friend—the one that he could openly confide to; the one who was always honest with him regardless of everything—she was a Weasley?

He turned to leave the store to find somewhere to think, when he realized that his father was brawling with the father Weasel on the floor. It seemed as though they had been fighting for some time, and they were getting quite brutal. His father was sporting a rather bruised eye, and Weasley’s father had a cut lip.

Suddenly, Hagrid the oaf walked over and pulled them apart. Draco stared in shock at his father—it seemed so uncharacteristic of him to fight with someone, especially someone that he would normally not give the time of day. Draco heard his father snap at Ginny, “Here, girl—take your book—it’s the best your father can give you—” Draco had the sudden urge to tell his father not to talk to Ginny like that, until reality tumbled down on him once more. Ginny was a Weasley—a Muggle loving, blood traitorous Weasley—and he would never be able to talk to her again.

A/N: Now it’s time for Ginny’s first year at Hogwarts!! Yay!!

Ginny sat apprehensively in her room, surrounded by her secondhand books, robes, her wand, and a pile of brand new Lockhart books, all of which were smiling and winking at her. She did not know what to think at the moment—she had thought that Draco was not concerned with her family name, but apparently that meant everything to him. She had heard of the Malfoys—they hated Muggles and those of ‘impure’ blood; her father was not fond of them at all, but he tolerated them.

She looked at the small slip of parchment in her hands that had recently arrived via Draco’s owl, which had swooped in the window and immediately left without waiting for a response. She felt tears welling up in her eyes as she read the note, over and over:

Why didn’t you tell me you were a Weasley?

It was amazing how hurtful the nine words were, sitting there on the paper staring her in the face. She could not help who her family was, or their reputation. The letter made it sound as though ‘Weasley’ was a dirty swear word. She felt a hot tear run down her face and land on the parchment, absorbing into the paper and blurring the name ‘Weasley.’

Ginny ran her hands through her hair as she tried to sort out the situation mentally. Apparently Draco hated Harry, and Weasley’s. Ginny was undoubtedly a Weasley, something she had neglected to tell him for the past five years. Did this mean that Draco no longer wanted to befriend her?

She still did not understand how her last name could make such a difference. Her father had once told her that there were wizards out there who only cared about bloodline and class—she had never thought that Draco would act like them. She knew his father was condescending to her family, but she never expected Draco would follow in his father’s footsteps, especially when he always had been so fun and gentle with her.

She wiped her tearing eyes with her sleeve and grabbed a piece of parchment and a new quill. Unsure of what to say, she sucked on the end of the quill in thought as the tears ran down her face. How could he just ruin their five years of friendship with his ridiculous bias against her surname?

Ginny took in a deep breath, trying to steady her composure before beginning to create her letter to Draco.

Draco,
I’m sorry I never told you I was a Weasley—I didn’t know it mattered so much to you. I know you dislike my brothers and Harry, but I hope you don’t throw away all of our fond memories just because of my surname. You’re my best friend Draco, and I would hate to lose you over something so insignificant. Please write me back—I don’t know what I would do without you.

-Ginny

Rereading the letter, Ginny began to cry all over again. She still could not believe what he had said about her family at the bookstore—she had no idea that his hatred of Muggle-lovers ran so deeply. She really did not know what to do—she wanted to be able to talk to him, because he was the only one that listened to her, but if he was going to be angry because her last name was Weasley, there was really nothing she could do.

She fetched Errol and sent the letter to Draco, before retreating to her room to look through her new Hogwarts items.


~*~


Draco sat bitterly on his bed, glaring at the wall. He was torn between whether or not he could continue his friendship with Ginny—it was a hard choice: family versus friends. If he followed his father’s wishes and avoided Ginny, then she would be angry and never talk to him again—he would lose his best friend. On the other hand, he could secretly be Ginny’s friend, but if his father found out, Draco would have severe repercussions. He knew in his heart that Ginny’s friendship was worth the risk; however, he could not bring himself to admit it.

He decided to try to justify his father’s viewpoint for a moment. Ginny was a Muggle lover and a blood traitor—any self-respecting wizard knew that those were the worst qualities to exhibit. Of course, it was his father who had told him that those were the least desirable attributes, so perhaps they were not relevant to his situation with Ginny.

He mussed his hair with his hand as he contemplated what to do. Everything that he was supposed to hate about Ginny was solely because his father told him to. Draco loved and respected his father very much, but he was unsure if he really wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps. Draco did not know much about his father’s business—only that he operated under extreme secrecy and precaution, and the Dark Arts heavily influenced him. Draco was only twelve, and he recognized that he was too young to have decided what he wanted to do with his life. However, he knew that as long as he listened to his father, he would be pushed towards the Dark Arts and his father’s mysterious dealings. Draco desperately wished that he had an escape route—someone to show him that life was not as his father planned out for him.

Before, that person had been Ginny—she had shown him that not everyone cared about blood purity and class—and he had believed her. But now he had made her angry about his jealous insecurities concerning Harry Potter and his friends. He needed someone like Ginny to serve as a balance for his difficult home life—but because she was a Weasley, he was fairly certain that the long-term outcome of their friendship would not be pleasant. Besides, it was not like he had a romantic interest in her or anything—she would probably be a good girlfriend though, he mused. After all, he had kissed her that one time in the Ministry… He shook his head—Ginny was his best friend, and as wonderful as she was, he did not want to advance their relationship for fear of ruining what they had. Well, what they would have if he could bring himself to continuing the friendship…

A sudden rapping on his window brought him back to reality. He looking in disbelief at the decrepit owl tapping frantically on the window, as though it was going to fall out of the air and die at any moment. Draco opened his window and allowed the owl into the room. He raised his eyebrow as the owl dove into the room and fell onto the middle of his floor. He carefully picked up the feeble owl and carried him over to his own owl’s water cup before untying the letter attached to its leg.

Seeing the old, dilapidated owl reminded him again that Ginny was a Weasley. He read her letter slowly, pondering what he should do about the situation. She sincerely wanted to be friends still, despite his behavior in the bookstore. Her forgivingness reminded him about how fantastic she was, and he knew deep down inside that he did not want to lose their five years of friendship. However, he did not want to deal with it right now—maybe he would be able to make a more coherent decision in the morning, he figured. It would be a huge risk to defy his father, and he needed more sleep before he could resolve the problem. Exhausted, Draco collapsed onto his bed, the letter in his hand as he drifted off to sleep.

The following morning, Draco still had no idea whether to obey his father or befriend Ginny. Noticing that her owl was still sound asleep, recovering in his room, he took the opportunity to pen a short letter, telling her that he was sorry for his actions, and he wanted to get together at Hogwarts sometime so they could talk in private. He was not quite certain how the last part would fare, but he figured they could sneak somewhere secluded to talk at some point. Once her owl had recovered, he fed it some owl treats and water before he tied the letter onto her owl’s leg with the same cheap piece of string that Ginny’s letter had arrived with, and sent him out the window.


~*~


A week had passed since Ginny had sent her apology to Draco, and he had not yet responded. Errol had returned the day after she sent him out, exhausted and empty handed, save for a tie on his left leg with no letter attached.

Resignedly, Ginny had begun to give up on reconciling with Draco—if he was going to be inconsiderate and ignore her, then she was not going to press the issue any more. She had spent the majority of her last weeks at home sulking in her bedroom and lazily packed everything she would need for Hogwarts. All she had left to pack was her textbooks—those were trickiest, because they were the heaviest of all her luggage. She picked up all of Lockhart’s books one by one and neatly laid them out on top of her clothing, trying to balance the weight throughout the trunk. As she grabbed her battered, used copy of A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration, a shabby little black book fell out onto the floor. Curious, Ginny picked it up—it was nondescript Muggle diary, with the name ‘T. M. Riddle’ smudged on the first page. Ginny flipped through the rest of the book, but the pages were all empty. She threw it aside on her bed—she would look at it more thoroughly later once she finished packing all her Hogwarts items.

Finally she had packed everything neatly into her trunk except a single quill and the tatty diary. She had never written in a diary before—she had always believed them to be a stupid waste of time, but she needed someone to confide in. Also, since Draco was obviously not talking to her right now, the diary seemed like a reasonable thing to try. Opening the front cover carefully, she smoothed down the first page and brushed off any dust. She thoughtfully sucked on the end of her quill, wondering how to start.

Figuring she should commence by introducing herself, she dipped her quill slowly into her ink and then started writing. “Hello, my name is Ginevra Molly Weasley,” she wrote concisely, but adding small flourishes onto her name for effect. She smiled at the way the ink seemed to set onto the page. Suddenly, the words she had written faded away, leaving the page momentarily blank before different words started oozing out of the page.

“Hello, Ginevra. My name is Tom Riddle—how did you happen to come across my diary?”

Ginny watching in shock as the unfamiliar handwriting began to fade away—she had never seen a diary like this before. She remembered her mother had told her never to trust something if she could not see where it kept its brain, but Ginny figured she could talk to it a little more before she got rid of it. “I found it in my textbooks while I was packing for school,” she wrote carefully in the diary. She watched as her words faded away into the paper only to be replaced with the same unfamiliar handwriting.

“Really? And what kind of school do you go to Ginevra?”

She looked at the diary curiously—it seemed harmless to her, despite all the warnings her mother had given her about things like this. Wanting to learn more about the diary, Ginny responded. “People call me Ginny, not Ginevra, and I go to a wizarding school—it’s my first year,” she wrote, trying not to give away too many specifics about her school. However, she figured that since the diary was responding, it was probably enchanted by a wizard.

She continued to write to the diary for several hours, just about general conversational topics. She tried not to reveal too much about herself, but she did not really see a reason not to trust the diary. Tom seemed to truly care about her, and he was very interested in everything she said.

Finally, it was time for sleep so she said goodnight to Tom and lay back in her bed. It was nice to have someone to talk to, especially since Draco seemed to be ignoring her. Maybe having a diary was not such a silly thing after all.


~*~


It was nearly time to return to Hogwarts, and Draco had still heard no response from Ginny. He assumed that her raggedy old owl managed to journey back to her home; however, she had never responded after he sent his letter, so he was not certain. Perhaps she was angry about that one day in the bookshop, or perhaps she was upset that he suggested that they wait until the first week of school to meet.

Thinking about what Ginny was doing, Draco lazily threw his textbooks into his trunk. He would be leaving for his second year at Hogwarts tomorrow, and he was almost looking forward to it. No longer would he have to deal with his father at the Manor, but instead he would have to hear the many heroic tales of Harry Potter, and the Golden Gryffindor Trio. Draco sighed bitterly—perhaps this year would be different. He looked over at his new Nimbus Two-Thousand One, the newest model of racing broom on the market. He ran his hand over the smooth handle—it really was the epitome of racing perfection, and he could not wait to join the Slytherin Quidditch team. His father had promised that he would be accepted; Draco was not quite sure how he would manage that, but he knew his father had a great deal of power, and he would succeed somehow. Besides, he was not bad at Quidditch.

Looking over at his owl napping in its cage, Draco briefly wondered if he should send Ginny another letter. Perhaps she never received his last letter, and he would hate for her to be angry that he never wrote back. Nah, he decided. She probably got it—he would just wait until they were heading to Hogwarts. Then maybe he would be able to talk to her.


~*~


Ginny frowned as she was woken up at the crack of dawn to get ready for Hogwarts. This year there were five members of her family heading to Hogwarts, which required a great deal of preparation. Ginny hurriedly put on the clothes she had laid out for herself, and she rushed around the house looking for items she had forgotten to pack.

Finally it was time to leave—Ginny lugged her trunk out to her father’s Ford Anglia and got into the front seat with her mother. She stared wistfully out the window as the house she had lived at for eleven years faded off into the distance—it would be strange to be away from home for a year, even though she would have four brothers with her.

However, barely after the house had disappeared from sight, George insisted they return for his box of Filibuster fireworks that he had forgotten, and a mere five minutes after that Fred demanded that they return because he had left his broomstick. Finally they were on the road, making decent time to the station. Ginny started daydreaming about what Hogwarts would be like—she had heard so many great things about it, and her brothers and Draco had described it to her so many times.

Draco… She could not believe Draco had not written her back. At least she had Tom to talk to now—wait… Did she remember to pack her diary? She had left it under her mattress for the past week—but she did not remember putting it in her trunk

“Dad! I forgot my diary! We need to go back!” she shrieked loudly. She felt a little bad about making them turn around again, especially since they were almost to the highway, but she knew she needed her diary as her confidant, especially now since Draco was angry with her.

They went back to the Burrow one last time so she could retrieve her precious diary from her bedroom, and then they were immediately on the road again to King’s Cross Station. They reached the station at quarter to eleven—only fifteen minutes before the Hogwarts Express would leave. Quickly pulling her trunk from the car, Ginny hurriedly followed her mother into King’s Cross. She briefly remembered the previous years she had been here, always having to watch her brothers leave her behind. This year, it was her turn to go off to school, leaving her parents behind.

She felt her mother grab her hand and briskly walk her through the barrier at Platform 9 ¾ after Percy, her father and the twins. There was only a minute left before the Hogwarts Express was going to leave. Rushed, her mother and father bid her a fast farewell, and her brothers grabbed her trunk and pulled it onto the train. She tried to give her mother and father a hug, but her brothers grabbed the back of her jumper and dragged her on the train, explaining that the train was about to leave.

Suddenly, she found herself in a train compartment, waving good-bye to her parents as the train slowly pulled away from the platform—everything had happened so fast, and now she was on her way to Hogwarts. She was almost sad as she watched her parents become tiny spots on the distant platform—her brothers had disappeared elsewhere on the train, and she had barely gotten to say goodbye to her parents.

She looked around the compartment she was in, there was a short boy with mousy brown hair standing next to her, excitedly taking pictures out the window with a camera. In the corner there was a straggly looking girl with long dirty blonde hair, intently reading the latest issue of the Quibbler. Ginny looked at each of them in turn, but they both seemed content so she did not bother to introduce herself. Bored, Ginny decided to go roam the train and see if she could find her brothers.

Looking down the long hallway, she did not see anyone in either direction, except Percy talking to another prefect with curly black hair. Figuring her brother would not want to be bothered, she set off in the other direction, peeking into the windows of compartments as she passed.

The first compartment she looking into had a load of older students, laughing raucously about something one of them had said. She did not recognize any of them, so she continued down the hallway. Suddenly, Ron’s friend Hermione emerged from the next compartment, looking up and down the halls.

“Ginny! Have you seen your brother?” Hermione asked while still curiously peeking into the compartments around them.

“Uhh… Which one?” Ginny asked facetiously, although she honestly had no idea which brother Hermione was talking about anyway.

“Ron. And Harry. I haven’t seen them, and neither has anyone else. Do you know if they got on the train?” Hermione asked Ginny. Thinking for a moment, Ginny could not actually remember seeing her brother and Harry on Platform 9 ¾ as she was leaving. She looked at Hermione and shook her head.

Exasperated, Hermione sighed loudly and grabbed Ginny’s wrist, dragging her down the hallway to go search for the two of them. Ginny felt happy to be included in Hermione’s quest for her brother, it was a nice change from being ignored from everything related to her brothers and Harry. She and Hermione engaged themselves in random conversation about the summer and everything that happened. She discovered that Hermione was Muggle-born, and very smart—Ginny figured that she was the ‘Mudblood’ that Draco was always raving about in his letters.

The two of them continued down the train, peeking into windows looking for Harry and Ron. They found Fred and George in a compartment, cracking jokes with other students—neither of them had seen Ron or Harry either. Ginny glanced into the next compartment—sitting on the bench next to the window was an unmistakable head of white-blonde hair.

Staring at the back of Draco’s head for a moment, she wondered whether she should go say hello, or whether she should ignore him. Suddenly, a pug-faced girl who was sitting across from Draco saw Ginny staring through the window. The girl said something inaudible and Ginny watched as Draco whipped around and looked her straight in the eye. His face seemed to be expressionless—neither inviting her to enter nor giving her any sign that he hated her. The pug-faced girl in the compartment sneered at her, and the rest of the girls in there broke out into a sinister laughter. Embarrassed, Ginny ducked away from the window and hurriedly ran to catch up with Hermione, who was still peeking further down the train.


~*~


Draco continued to stare at the window where Ginny’s snooping face had just disappeared. Perhaps she was looking for him. He looked around his compartment—it was the same as the previous year; Vincent and Gregory were munching away on their many snacks and candies, and Pansy was gossiping and laughing, except this year she had dragged some of the other Slytherin girls into the compartment. Draco did not understand why she could not find her own compartment—the train was full of compartments, and yet she always chose to sit in his, oftentimes uncomfortably close to him.

He went back to staring out the window, wondering what he would say to Ginny. Now that he knew she was a Weasley—he would never be able to freely talk to her in public. The Slytherins would never forgive him for dropping to such a low level, and he was fairly certain that he would get beaten up by all the Weasley brothers for talking to Ginny—not that he could not handle them, but he still preferred to avoid the situation all the same.

Perhaps he could go talk to Ginny in private—there probably was a stray empty compartment somewhere in the train—the one that Pansy and friends belonged in, at least. He had to talk to Ginny eventually, whether it was here or at school, it did not matter in the least. Besides, he missed their fun conversations—she could always make him laugh. Deciding to go find her, Draco stood suddenly, making a show of extreme boredom, and signaling for Vincent and Gregory to stay put. Then, without saying anything at all (especially not to Pansy and her followers), he strode out of the compartment into the hallway, on a mission to find Ginny and talk to her.


~*~


Hermione seemed to be giving up with searching for Harry. “I really don’t know where they are, but if you find them, tell me, okay?” Hermione told Ginny. Nodding, Ginny agreed and said goodbye. She watched as Hermione disappeared into a compartment with a group of giggling girls—a set of twins with long dark hair, and a few more second year girls. Sighing, Ginny turned on her heel and resignedly headed back to her compartment.

Suddenly, Draco appeared stealthily from his compartment, looking back and forth down the hallway, as though he was taking a huge risk venturing out into the hallway alone. His face stayed apathetic and calm as he registered her presence in the hallway. He swiftly strode down the hallway towards her, and then continued to walk past—but tapping her slightly and making a gesture telling her to follow him. Waiting a moment to make sure no one was watching, as that seemed to be his intent, she idly followed him down towards the end of the train, watching as his disappeared into a random compartment.

Finally, she reached the door to his compartment, and cautiously walked in. It was completely empty except for Draco, and as soon as she had entered he quickly moved to lock the door from the outside and cover the small window that allowed a view in. Ginny gave him an inquisitive glance, wondering why he was being so precautious about talking to her. She was beginning to feel very uncomfortable, because it seemed as though Draco was afraid to talk to her in front of everyone else. She did not see what was so horrible about talking in public, or not caring if someone else were to walk in on their conversation—but Draco was not taking any chances.

Draco took several more moments checking to make sure that their meeting was completely private before conclusively turning to face her, offering her a weak smile. However, Ginny was in no mood for his apologies—he had insulted her family that day in Flourish and Blotts, and then he had not written anything to her since then—and now he was blocking off their meeting from the outside world, as if he were ashamed to be talking to a Weasley.

She sat down grumpily in the corner of the compartment and glared at him—he must have some reason for coming here, and she figured she would let him talk first so that she did not start yelling at him for no reason. Draco seemed a little unnerved at her stony behavior, especially because it was completely uncharacteristic for her—but he had severely hurt her, and he had not made any moves to apologize, even after she had written him.

Draco seemed to be at a loss for words. “Ginny, I—I’m… I’m sorry…” he started, stumbling on the words as though he had never apologized to another person in his life.

Ginny stared at him for a moment longer—great, so he was sorry. And what did that really mean? “So—can we be friends, or does my last name just ruin everything?” Ginny asked bitterly.

Draco contemplated for a moment as Ginny glared at him, “Well,” he started, “I’d like to be friends, but—” he trailed off in his thought.

“But what?” she asked, “but you can only be friends with me in secret? We can only be friends at your convenience? I’m sorry Draco, but that doesn’t seem like a situation that is going to work for me.” She snapped angrily. “You can’t just insult my family in public, and then expect everything to be okay with me! I am a Weasley, and there is nothing wrong with that. If you don’t like it, then I can’t help you because it’s not something I can change—”

“—It’s not that I want you to change,” Draco started “It’s just that I didn’t know that… Well… My father always told me things about your family, and… I don’t know, Ginny—there are just too many people who would think it’s strange for me to be friends with you.”

“And that’s supposed to justify it?” she demanded. “If you’d rather maintain your reputation rather than talk to me, then go ahead—it’s not worth it to me to befriend people who are obviously so caught up in themselves—”

“Excuse me? If I’m caught up in my reputation it’s only because I have one to maintain, unlike some people,” Draco interrupted. She was starting to make him very angry with her many accusations. He had come here to talk, not to argue—but apparently she had a lot bottled up inside that she had to get out.

Ginny glowered at Draco—she knew her family did not have a high status like his, but he did not need to persistently remind her. She shook her head and added solemnly, “You know, Draco, I thought we had something. You were such a great friend—you were always fun to be around, and you were always there for me when I needed you. Maybe you’ve always hated my family—but there’s no difference between now and last month except now you know my surname, and if you’re really going to let that ruin everything, then maybe you aren’t who I thought you were. Secrecy is one thing—I don’t mind if we don’t tell anyone we’re friends, but I can’t stand you insulting my family time and time again.” Sighing unevenly, she looked at him with teary eyes momentarily before dejectedly dropping her gaze to the floor.

She waited for a moment, to see if Draco would counter what she said and tell her he was sorry and that he wanted to remain friends, but he made no immediate move to do so. She sighed deeply and shook her head once more before slowly rising to exit the compartment. Not looking back, she miserably traipsed back to the compartment with the mousy boy and the strange blonde girl.

Upon reaching her compartment, she saw that the boy had moved out of the compartment—probably taking pictures somewhere else in the train, and the girl was now circling random words in the Quibbler and drawing lines artistically across the page, as though trying to make a bizarre connection in the magazine spread.

Desolate and feeling as though she had lost her best friend, Ginny flopped onto the bench next to the window. Wiping the unshed tears from her eyes, she knew it would not do her good to dwell on her argument with Draco, but she still felt as though she needed to tell someone what was wrong. Pulling her diary out of her pocket, she flipped it open to the first page and began to write.


~*~


Draco watched the empty door that Ginny had disappeared through. He had felt as though they could never be friends after that one day at Flourish & Blotts, but now the reality of the situation had solidified before his eyes. She had wanted him to defy everything his father had ever taught him—and that just was not something he could do. He lay down on the bench in the empty compartment and stared dismally at the ceiling.

He felt almost sad—Ginny had walked out, leaving him alone but making his life somewhat easier. If she was going to be angry with him, then he did not have to deal with being torn between her friendship and his father. It was probably better this way anyway.

Finally, the Hogwarts Express pulled into the station, and Draco followed all the older students up to the castle. He was happy to not have to take the boats across the lake like he did last year. Sitting down at the table, Draco idly listened as his classmates talked about their summers and all the exciting things they had done. Draco nodded at the proper moments and issued an occasional smirk, which was his interpretation with a laugh.

After what seemed like an eternity, Professor McGonagall entered the hall, announcing that the first years were coming. A long trail of timid looking students entered the Great Hall, in awe of its magnificence. Draco yawned loudly—the ceremony really was quite tedious; it was horrible enough having to participate in it the previous year, but it was even worse watching it. He amused himself by looking at each first year, trying to guess what house each would end up in.

Finally, his eyes fell upon Ginny, who was distracted by her twin brothers waving wildly on the other side of the Great Hall. He stared wistfully at the back on her head, wondering if it really was better to ignore her. No matter how hard he tried, he could not forget the feeling of when he laughed with her. She was the only person that he had shown his ‘true’ self, the one that was not concerned with reputation and class. Too bad he was not allowed to act like that in everyday life, he thought bitterly.

Draco distractedly listened to the Sorting Hat’s new tune as he continued to stare at Ginny. He was starting to regret their argument on the train, and he wished that he could go back to being a little naïve child at the Ministry of Magic, not really knowing or caring about bloodlines and status. Watching as the first years tried on the hat one by one, Draco could not help wishing that by some strange occurrence, Ginny would end up in Slytherin because then he would be able to talk to her. However, much to his dismay but just as he expected, she was sorted into Gryffindor, with all the rest of her siblings and the Golden Trio. Feeling defeated and depressed on the inside, Draco struggled to display a self-satisfied expression on his face as he watched the rest of the sorting ceremony. Regardless of his conflicts with Ginny, he still had a reputation to maintain—he could not let Ginny ruin everything his father had built for him, no matter how nice she was.

Leaning across the table, he engaged himself in a conversation with Marcus Flint about Quidditch and the house team. He haughtily smiled as Flint acknowledged that he had already been approached about Draco’s Quidditch skills, and that Draco would be welcome on the house team, especially after his father’s contribution. Draco had no idea what his father had donated, but if it secured his position on the team, Draco would not argue. He smiled smugly—perhaps this year he could rival Harry Potter and his Quidditch skills.

He glanced at Ginny, who was sitting with her back to him at the Gryffindor table, involved in an energetic conversation with several other first years. Draco knew it would be a long struggle to either ignore Ginny or reconcile with her. Deep down inside, he wished he could do the latter, but he knew that he had to wait for her to settle into school and cool off. Draco figured if Ginny continued to be mad at him, then it would be easier for him to stop thinking about her—or so he hoped. It was going to be an interesting term…

A/N: Tell me what you think, or if it’s boring, or if it should go in a different direction. I just enjoy feedback (a lot), so anything you tell me (good or bad) is appreciated.

Ginny stared in awe at the interior of Hogwarts as her brother Percy and another prefect led the first years to the Gryffindor dormitory. Ron and Harry had not yet appeared, though she was starting to hear many rumours about their whereabouts—mostly involving a ‘Whomping Willow’ and a flying car. It was not something she expected from Ron—it was usually the twin’s territory to pull outrageous stunts and not do as they were told, but perhaps they were rubbing off on Ron. She gazed at the many moving portraits around Hogwarts—she had never seen so many exquisite paintings at one time before.

Finally they reached a large painting of a fat lady in a silky pink dress. Percy cleared his throat and announced to the first years that this portrait concealed the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. Ginny excitedly looked around, trying to memorize its location in the castle. She smiled at a group of first year girls standing next to her, who also seemed eager to finally see the interior of the Gryffindor dormitories.

Percy stated the password (‘wattlebird’), and the painting swung open to reveal many squashy chairs and a variety of tables. A roaring fireplace was contently crackling, giving the room a warm welcoming glow. Ginny entered the circular room and gazing around, taking in the cozy environment. Most of the Gryffindors seemed to be gathered in the common room, as though they were waiting for something. However, when the first years walked in, the older students did not care. Ginny figured they must be waiting for someone else. Percy split up the boys and the girls, and Ginny followed a female Gryffindor prefect up a winding staircase. They eventually reached a small landing with a door marked ‘first years’ on it. The prefect opened the door, exposing a round room with four-poster beds and windows overlooking the Hogwarts grounds.

Ginny ran into the room and immediately to a window, where she could see a spectacular view of the grounds. She turned to look where her roommates were—several were staring out the windows as well, and the others were locating their trunks. Ginny sat down on the bed next to her trunk and lay down. It was so great to be at Hogwarts finally—it was stunning and impressive and everything she had ever hoped it would be. She was just starting to unpack her trunk when she suddenly heard a raucous yell from the common room downstairs. She rushed out of the room and down the stairs, followed by the other first years—if there was anything interesting going on, she definitely wanted to see what it was.

She smiled as she most of Gryffindor standing on the tables and armchairs, cheering and whistling for Harry and Ron, who had just arrived through the fat lady painting with Hermione scrambling in behind. She could hear the twin’s friend Lee Jordon yelling about how brilliant they were as many other Gryffindors approached them to congratulate them. Ginny tried to push her way closer to Ron to hear exactly what had happened, but she kept getting pushed back towards the stairway.

Glancing around, looking for an easier passage through the crowd, she saw her brother Percy also trying to shove through the crowd, a very determined scowl on his face. Over the din, she could faintly hear Fred and George inquiring why Ron had taken the car without them. Realization dawned on Ginny’s face as she realized what had happened—her brother and Harry had flown her father’s car to Hogwarts and crashed it into the Whomping Willow, which was apparently a very old but brutal tree. She felt herself shaking her head disbelievingly—she never knew Ron had it in him.

Climbing the first few steps to the girls dormitory to get a better view, she watched as a scarlet faced Ron hurriedly pushed his way towards the boys dormitories, with Harry in tow. She could see why they were leaving so urgently—Percy was hot on their trail, probably wanting to scold them, she figured. She watched as some second year boys followed her brother up into the boys dormitory, and Hermione stalked past her on the girls stairway, heading upstairs to her own dormitories. Everyone else in the dorm seemed unfazed by their departure, and Ginny watched as Fred and George pulled out a box of Dr. Filibuster's Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks and some other jokes they had bought from Gambol & Japes the last time they were in Diagon Alley, and the festivities continued.

Ginny worked her way into the crowd and picked up a cup of pumpkin juice from the tablet that was bursting with food that had been nicked from the kitchen. She squeezed through the crowd until she met up with Fred and George, who eagerly grabbed her by the wrists and started introducing her to their friends as ‘their baby sister Ginny.’ She was a little irked at the introduction, but she was happy to be included. They dragged her around the room to meet people, and then gave her a couple fireworks and a variety of gags to play with. She grabbed another cup of pumpkin juice from the table and used it to trigger the fireworks she was holding, and then she offered the gag candies from Fred and George to some first years she had met earlier. Finally, late into the night as the welcome celebrations seemed to be waning, Ginny tiredly climbed the stairs to her dormitory and changed for bed.

Pulling the curtains around her four-poster bed shut, she carefully pulled her diary from underneath her pillow and smiled to herself as she began to write about Hogwarts and how amazing it was. Tom seemed very interested—it seemed as though when he was at Hogwarts (she had learned that he had once gone there), his dorm did not have many parties. Ginny figured that it was probably her brother’s fault—they always took advantage of any opportunity for fun. Yawning loudly, she finally placed her diary beneath her pillow and snuggled under the warm covers—it was wonderful to finally be at school.


~*~


Draco stretched as he rolled out of his bed, bright and early the next morning. The previous evening had been dreadfully boring—the new Slytherin first years were incredibly dull, and after the Sorting Ceremony, Draco had made it clear what he thought of them by sneering at each one until they cowered. He knew most of them anyway—children of friends of his father. He had spent most of the evening sitting in the armchair closest to the fire, surveying the room as though he were in charge.

Being as bored as he was, Draco could not help wondering what Ginny was doing at the current moment. Rumour had it, Potter and Weasley had come to school in a flying car and crashed it into the Whomping Willow—unfortunately, they had survived the accident and had gotten picked up by Snape and taken to his office. No one Draco had talked to was clear on what happened afterwards—Draco had heard from some that Harry had gotten expelled, but then a first year had just come into the dormitory five minutes ago saying that he had seen Harry Potter and a red-haired boy walking through the castle, not looking as though they had been punished. Highly suspecting that the latter was true, and that Harry Potter had escaped without punishment yet again, Draco was feeling quite bitter.

Draco slowly dressed himself, and then preened in the mirror for several minutes before heading upstairs to breakfast at the Great Hall. He was enjoying his breakfast in silence when suddenly loud yelling overshadowed the chatter of students. He laughed silently to himself as Weasley cowered as a Howler sent by his mother scolded him for stealing the car and flying it to Hogwarts. Draco shook his head—Arthur Weasley was always too interested in Muggle artifacts. Draco knew his father would be more than pleased if the father Weasel were to get in trouble at the Ministry.

Following breakfast, Draco headed to his first class, accompanied by his Slytherin cronies. He saw Ginny in passing in the hallway, but she seemed entertained by the Gryffindors she was walking with, and he was not sure if she even glanced at him. He sighed angrily—he hated being ignored, even if she was just a Weasley. He resentfully stalked to his first class, muttering to himself about the impudence of Weasleys.

After his lunch, Draco was walking around Hogwarts flanked by Vincent and Gregory, looking for something to do when he came across a first year Gryffindor carrying a Muggle camera, asking to take a picture of the famous Harry Potter. Draco found the situation so laughable, that he could not help but make fun of Potter.

“Signed photos? You’re giving out signed photos, Potter?” he said loudly, calling the attention of everyone in the courtyard over to him and Potter. He smirked—Potter really was unbelievable; it was almost like that bloody Lockhart fellow, the one who smiled for every blasted camera within a one hundred mile radius and autographed everything that stopped moving long enough for him to whip out a quill. “Everyone line up!” he yelled, “Harry Potter’s giving out signed photos!” Draco continued to smile smugly as Harry tried to defend himself.

Suddenly, the short, mousy haired boy piped up, claiming that Draco was jealous of Harry Potter. Draco shook his head and glared at the boy. “Jealous?” Draco asked, “Of what? I don’t want a foul scare right across my head, thanks. I don’t think getting your head cut open makes you special, myself.” Besides, he thought, if he were jealous of the Golden Trio and their unfair ability to avoid all trouble, he would never admit it.

“Eat slugs, Malfoy,” said the Weasley angrily. Draco heard Vincent crack his knuckles threateningly to his right. Malfoy smiled smugly—that was what those two morons were good for—times like these. He glanced around quickly, checking to make sure Ginny was not in the vicinity before responding.

“Be careful, Weasley,” he said menacingly, “You don’t want to start any trouble or your Mommy’ll have to come and take you away from school.” He laughed evilly and proceeded to mimic the Howler from that mornings breakfast. Feeling smug as he heard a group of fifth year Slytherins laugh at his insults, he continued, “Weasley would like a signed photo, Potter, it’d be worth more than his family’s whole house—” He smirked as Weasley pulled out an abused looking wand, chipped all over with a large piece of Spellotape holding it together.

Suddenly, that git Lockhart appeared from somewhere—he must have sensed the presence of a camera, Draco figured. Rolling his eyes, he slipped into the crowd. He was not off to a very good start avoiding Potter, not that he was trying very hard. It was the Golden Trio’s own fault that they made themselves so easy to insult.

Rounding a corner, Draco was not paying attention to where he was going and he ran smack into someone. Looking down on the floor, he saw Ginny surrounded by several books and quills. He started to outstretch his hand to help her up, but then decided against it. He still had Vincent and Gregory behind him, and although they were awfully dense, he was fairly certain they would notice such strange behavior. Ginny also had a group of first year girls behind her who would most likely find it uncharacteristic for a Slytherin to help a Gryffindor—besides, they seemed downright petrified at his presence. He settled for dropping down and picking up several of her textbooks before handing them to her roughly.

“Watch where you’re going next time, Weasley,” he said sharply, not quite up to his normal standards of arrogance that he would have used with Potter and the trio, but certainly a little more severe than what he would have liked to use with Ginny. However, she was a Weasley, and he had a reputation to maintain. Pushing past Ginny and the fearful flock of first-years, he continued on his way to his next class.


~*~


Ginny watched sadly as Draco swept down the corridor—it seemed as though he truly did not care about her anymore. She hated the way that he had said her last name—he always said it with such distaste, as though it were something nasty he was forced to eat for dinner. The way he just spat it out with no feeling whatsoever hurt her—but underneath the pain she felt almost sorry for him. He had no control over his life, and the few times that he had made his own choices, like befriending her, he had ultimately thrown those away too.

“Come on, Ginny” said one of her new friends from behind her, lightly tapping her shoulder. “Don’t be upset about him.” Ginny turned around and smiled weakly—they all thought that she was scared about getting knocked over by him—she could they that they were all frightened of him and his Slytherin bodyguards. They did not know the whole truth about her and Draco; they never would. Brushing off her robes, Ginny assured her friends that she was alright as she shifted her books into a more comfortable position before pressing on down the hall.

After her last class, Ginny rushed back to the dormitory before dinner. She had so much to tell Tom about her first day, and she could not wait a moment longer. Eagerly opening the portrait, she was happy to note that none of her brothers were in the common room (she was certain that they would delay her). She swiftly ascended the stairs and flopped onto her bed, pulling out a quill from her bag and yanking the diary off of her bed simultaneously. Excitedly, Ginny opened the diary and flattened the pages out before starting to write about her day.

Tom listened to her as she wrote, responding at all the right places and telling her interesting tidbits about the different parts of Hogwarts as she mentioned it. She told him about her new dormmates, and how her brothers were at Hogwarts. Then she spoke about her brother’s friends—Hermione, the smartest girl in her year, and Harry Potter, the boy who lived. He seemed very interested about Harry—Ginny could imagine why, as he seemed to be familiar with You-Know-Who, but he had no idea about his eventual defeat.

“So what happened, Lord Voldemort was defeated by a baby? And the baby survived?”

Ginny smiled at Tom’s writing, he seemed so interested in everything she had to say. “No one really knows what happened, but You-Know-Who tried to kill Harry, but Harry survived and You-Know-Who was defeated.” She watched the diary as the text faded away—Tom Riddle had not written back. He seemed to be shocked at the story of the downfall of You-Know-Who. She decided to keep writing until he responded. “Harry is really nice, although I don’t know him well. My brother’s tease me about liking him—I didn’t use to, but I’m not sure anymore…” She paused as Tom’s handwriting started coming into view.

“Tell me more about Harry Potter”

She smiled and began to write about everything she had heard about Harry—all the stories, the rumours, and about what she thought of him. He encouraged her to pursue him, and try to learn more about him. He was so supportive of her. “No one’s ever understood me like you, Tom,” she wrote, brushing off all memories of her friendship with Draco. “I’m so glad I have this diary to confide in,” she noted—she really had never had anyone who she could entrust with her revelations before—or no one who was not predestined to hate her because of her last name, she remembered bitterly. “It’s like having a friend I can carry around in my pocket,” she wrote finally, becoming happier at the thought. She really could bring Tom everywhere if she wanted, so then she could write all the time. Joyful, she tucked the diary safely in the pocket of her robes and headed down to the Great Hall for dinner.


~*~


As school fell back into its usual rhythm, Draco found that everything about second year was annoyingly similar to his first year, except for Quidditch. The first Saturday after classes had started, Draco woke up cheerily, despite the early hour. Today was the day that he was finally going to go to Quidditch practice with the Slytherin team. He dressed himself in Quidditch playing attire and grabbed his Nimbus Two Thousand and One before joining his fellow teammates in the common room.

Although Draco was quite awake, it seemed that his team was not. He sat down in a large armchair, waiting for the last of the team to mosey in from their bedrooms. Finally, Marcus Flint arrived last, toting a large box from Quality Quidditch Supply. Flint gave Draco an appreciative glance as he began to open the box.

“Now that everyone is here,” Flint started, looking around at the Quidditch team, “I would like to announce to those that haven’t already found out, that Draco Malfoy will be joining us this year as our Seeker.” Draco smiled smugly as the team looked at him and his shining Nimbus Two Thousand and One. “Also, Draco’s father has been kind enough to make a very generous donation to the team,” he said, pulling the box completely open. Draco’s head snapped up at the mention of his father—he had no idea what his father had sent. Flint beamed as he began pulling out brand new Nimbus Two Thousand and Ones out of the box and began passing them around the room. Draco scowled. Now everyone would think he bought his way onto the team. Essentially, his father had bought Draco’s way onto the team, but this would only make it more obvious.

Draco continued to frown as his teammates shot him approving looks as they shouldered their new broomsticks. Looking down at his own Nimbus Two Thousand and One, he suddenly did not feel as special about having the newest broomstick. Still glowering, Draco grabbed his own broomstick, and followed his teammates out to the Quidditch Pitch.

Upon reaching the field, Draco realized that there was already another team practicing. He glanced at the barely rising sun, and shook his head—the Hogwarts Quidditch teams were insane. Much to his dismay, the other team on the pitch was the Gryffindors. He ducked behind the rest of the Slytherin team, wanting to avoid Potter—he knew if he encountered Potter, he would end up saying something snide. He could faintly hear the Gryffindor captain yelling about how he had booked the field.

“Ah,” Draco heard Flint begin, “But I’ve got a signed note from Professor Snape. ‘I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker.’” Draco watched as the Slytherins standing in front of him moved aside, revealing him sporting his classic smug expression.

“Aren’t you Lucius Malfoy’s son?” asked one of the Weasley twins—they looked the same, not that Draco cared enough to figure out which was which. Draco opened his mouth to respond snidely, but was interrupted by Marcus Flint.

“Funny you should mention Draco’s father,” Draco heard Flint start. He had a bad feeling about how this conversation was going to turn out. “Let me show you the generous gift he’s made to the Slytherin team.” Draco reluctantly displayed his broomstick, following suit with the rest of the Slytherins. “Very latest model,” Flint continued snidely, “Only came out last month. I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps—” Draco watched as Flint sneered at the Weasley twins, “—sweeps the board with them.”

Draco smirked as the Gryffindors continued to stare at the brooms, wordless and in shock. Although he had not wanted Flint to reveal the benefactor of their gifts, it was almost worth it to see the reactions of the entire Gryffindor team. Suddenly, he noticed two figured traipsing across the field out of the corner of his eye. Turning slightly, he recognized the advancing forms to be the rest of the Golden Trio. Now he would never be able to control his bitterness.

Weasley came over and demanded to know why the Slytherins were on the field, so Draco took advantage of the opportunity to flash his new broomstick again. The shock on Weasley’s face made all the regret of his father’s gift fade from his mind. “Good, aren’t they?” Draco asked smoothly, “But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them.” He smiled smugly as all the Weasleys glared at him angrily, turning shades of scarlet.

“At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in,” Granger piped up. Draco could tell what was coming and he did not like it. “They got in on pure talent.”

How dare she accuse him of bribing his way it—it was not his fault, it was entirely his father. Draco felt his cool composure flicker for a moment. “No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood,” he spat angrily.

Everyone seemed to dive into motion at once—both Weasley twins rushed forward at Draco, but Flint stepped in front to block their actions. Draco stepped backwards to protect himself from the threatening Weasley twins. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ron Weasley point his spellotaped wand at Draco and yell a spell. Draco ducked as he heard a loud bang echoing though the stadium, but after the sound had faded away, he did not feel the effects of any spell. He reached up to touch his face to check for physical damage when he noticed Weasley lying on the grass.

He watched as Granger ran over to Weasley, asking him if he was all right. Weasley sat up slowly and opened his mouth, but instead of words, he belched loudly. Draco burst into sinister laugher as several slugs dribbled out of Weasley’s mouth and into his lap. Draco could not believe the hilarity of the situation. Dropping to all fours, Draco hit the ground with his fist, laughing manically.

When he finally had regained his breathe from laughing so hard, he looked up but the Gryffindor team was gone. Calming down, the rest of the Slytherin team mounted their broomsticks and commenced their practice.


~*~


Ginny yawned as she woke up Saturday morning—she had no idea what time it was because the curtains around her bed blocked out the sun, but she had a feeling that it was nearly lunchtime. Opening her curtains, she looked around the room, noticing that all of her roommates had already woken up, just as she had assumed. She had been up extremely late the previous evening, gossiping with her roommates and then later writing to Tom. Knowing that all her dormmates thought Harry Potter was cute only made Ginny like him more—and she told Tom exactly that. She did not quite remember what time it was when she finally went to bed—in fact, she did not remember going to bed at all, but obviously she must have. She figured she must have been very tired. Looking to her left, she noticed that her diary was sitting on her nightstand—she could not remember putting it there. Usually, she always put her diary under her pillow or at the bottom of her trunk. She shook her head and slipped the diary into her pocket—she would have to be more careful; she would not want someone else to find her secret friend.

Slowly climbing out of bed, Ginny stretched before getting dressed and descended the stairs to the Gryffindor common room. The room was mostly empty, except for a few people reading books or playing casual games of Wizard’s chess. She went to the Great Hall for an early lunch, but she did not see anyone there that she knew well enough to sit with, so she enjoyed her solitude. After lunch, she wandered around the school, exploring. She found several corridors she had not previously known about, and she located a couple of the secret passageways her brothers had told her of.

She ran into Colin Creevey in one of the corridors, and distractedly listened as he broke out into a long and complex story about Quidditch practice. She perked up when she heard him mention Harry’s name, but it was followed by a description of an argument between Ron and Draco that later resulted in Ron suffering from a spell causing him to burp slugs. She frowned—it would be really nice if Draco stopped brawling with her brothers, though she knew it would never happen. She thanked Colin for his story, and then continued her exploration of the castle.

After wandering for several hours, she sighted Ron from afar. She contemplated going to make sure he was all right, but he was already accompanied by Hermione and Harry and did not look to need her assistance. She gazed distractedly at Harry from out of the small window in the corridor, not noticing a dark form approaching her from behind.

“Watching your new boyfriend?” she heard a familiar voice ask snidely. She shut her eyes and sighed, wishing the figure behind her would leave her alone.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” she said resignedly with no expression in her voice. She turned around to face Draco, who was standing with his arms crossed. The hallway they were in was completely devoid of students, and for once, Draco was not flanked by his two cronies. She looked at him a moment longer but he did not seem to have any intention of responding. “Did you want something?” she asked impassively, wondering why he was bothering to track her down. She had seen him watch her during the Sorting Ceremony and in the halls, but he had been cruel when they collided in the halls, and he still continued to insult her brother, clearly exemplified by the story she had just heard from Colin.

Draco shrugged, not offering any comments or expressions. For once, his face seemed to be free from that smug smirk that he always had on his face, but he still seemed distant—so unlike the Draco that she had once played with in the Ministry.

Turning back towards the window, Ginny decided to talk more. “I know what you did to my brother this morning—and what you said to Hermione. And, I know what you said in the courtyard earlier this week, about my family,” Ginny said flatly, still lacking any sentiment. She had decided that until Draco apologized to her, she had intention of ever talking to him again—she had Tom to talk to now. She felt her hand move down towards the pocket where the diary was concealed—she had all the support she needed, neatly tucked into her robes. Feeling a new bout of confidence, she readied herself for whatever Draco was about to say.

“I—I don’t know, Ginny,” Draco started. His voice was unsteady, and almost pleading. “I just miss talking to you,” he said, as though that statement would solve all of their problems.

Ginny whirled around and looked him in the eyes. “You miss talking to me? So why to you continue to insult my family? Do you think I’ll actually talk to you if you’re constantly insulting everyone that is close to me?” She glared daggers at him, waiting for him to say something to prove her otherwise. His behavior was getting extremely tiresome—if he wanted to talk to her like they used to, he would have to stop insulting her family and friends.

Draco stared at her for a moment, wondering what exactly he was doing with Ginny. He had seen her wandering through the hallways by herself, and she had passed him several times before he saw her walk down the corridor where he had found her. She had seemed lost and alone, and on a whim he had followed her. Now he was beginning to doubt his intentions. Originally, he had considered trying to reconcile with her—trying to convince her that they could be friends without anyone knowing, like they used to… However, she seemed perfectly content without his friendship. He looked at her and shrugged—maybe it was useless to pretend that they even had a history together. When they had argued on the train, Ginny had seemed as though she wanted to resolve their conflicts; however, now it seemed as though she was fed up with him. He wanted to be friends with her, but he did not want to promise her anything. His feud with Weasleys and Potter was complicated, and it would take him a long time to solve that.

For lack of better things to say, Draco decided to ask her how her day had been. Ginny stared at Draco in disbelief—she had told him exactly what she thought, and he still continued to act as if he had done nothing wrong. Huffing at him, Ginny glowered at him, and with newfound conviction that Tom had brought her, she began to talk again. “You know, Malfoy,” she started, spitting out his last name in the same tone and distaste that he used with her last name, “I used to think that I needed you to confide in—you were so wonderful. You didn’t care what people thought, and you were willing to take the risk of us being discovered by your father just so we could spend time together. But now—now you’re so concerned about your reputation that you can’t even stop insulting my family long enough to have a coherent conversation,” she seethed angrily. “While you were busy maintaining your reputation, I found other people to talk to.” He noticed that she touched the pocket of her robes strangely as she spoke to him, as though she was getting power from something in her pocket.

Ginny turned to leave Draco behind, his mouth gaping and his face displaying mild shock—he could not believe she had spoken like that to him—it was completely out of character for her. Watching her walk away, Draco punched the wall, trying to relieve some of the tension from his conversation with Ginny. He was not sure whether to feel worried about her sudden change in temperament, or relieved that he would definitely not have to worry about sneaking around to be her friend. Or perhaps he should be depressed. Regardless, it seemed as though Ginny was really gone this time.

Several stray first years entered the hallway, obviously lost. Draco sneered at them and watched as the scared first years rushed out of the corridor. Much to his dismay, it did not provide the least bit of satisfaction. Leaning back against the wall, he stared at the ceiling and wondered what he had thrown away.


~*~


Ginny stalked back to the Gryffindor dormitory, muttering to herself about the nerve of Draco Malfoy. She still did not know why he had followed her, but she was sick of his arrogance. She had Tom to talk to now—she did not need Draco anymore. Or Harry Potter for that matter, but Tom kept insisting that she pursue Harry, especially if she really liked him. Tom said Harry sounded like an interesting fellow, and he was always asking tons of questions about him.

Ginny climbed into the portrait hole to the Gryffindor common room. It was empty except for Hermione, who was sitting over in the corner flipping through a heavy looking textbook. She briefly wondered where Harry and Ron were, but by asking Hermione she discovered that they were serving their detentions for flying the car to school.

Wandering slowly up to her dormitory, Ginny checked her pocket to ensure that the diary was still there. The first year girl’s dormitory was empty, either that or everyone was sleeping behind the curtains. Ginny did not really care. She settled down onto her bed and retrieved the diary from her robes—it was starting to become her evening tradition to write just before she went to bed, just like the previous years when she had written to Draco nearly every night.

Biting her tongue in thought, Ginny began to describe her long and boring day. She detailed what she had heard about Harry, Ron and Draco’s fight, and how Draco had later found her only to make her angry again. She smiled as Tom responded with sympathetic comments and helpful advice. She talked to him for several hours about varying aspects of her everyday life. She was getting very sleepy, and was about ready to collapse on her bed.

“Do you want to see one of my fondest memories of Hogwarts?” wrote Tom, after Ginny had talked about all her favorite moments so far at Hogwarts.

“Is that possible?” Ginny responded, completely curious as to what he was talking about. She was very tired, and felt as though she could not move another inch.

“Yes, do you trust me?”

“Yes, of course I do,” Ginny wrote quickly—he had never given her a reason to trust him. Suddenly, she watched as the pages of the diary began to flutter and turn, stopping somewhere in the latter part of June. The empty page seemed to turn into a tiny viewing screen, and Ginny could feel herself tumbling through into another world.

Suddenly, Ginny sat up and looked around, she was on the Hogwarts grounds many years ago, and she sleepily watched as Tom was awarded a Special Award for Services to the School. She tried to keep her eyes open to see the rest of his special memory, but found that she was too tired.

The next morning, Ginny awoke late again. Her dorm mates had all disappeared, probably because it was nearly noon. She could almost remember the dream she had last night—it had been a strange one—she had been with a parseltongue, and she had helped controll a giant snake. They had been on some sort of mission, but she could not really remember what. Ginny yawned and stretched her arms over her head, looking around her room. Like the previous day, her diary was sitting neatly on her nightstand, with the ink bottle capped and her quill lying neatly across the top. She stared at if for a moment, confused. She had no recollection of leaving her stuff on the nightstand like that.

Glancing at her hands, she noticed that they appeared to be covered with something grimy and dirty. She tried hard to remember what she had done the previous night that would have caused the dirt, but she could not remember. Ginny shrugged and headed to the bathrooms to wash her hands and head to the Great Hall for food. She would have to be more careful with where she left her diary at night—and she would have to stop staying up so late, it was really messing with her sleeping schedule.

A/N: So I think it’s going somewhere… Slowly… My sister (the one who ‘betas’ my work) says she likes it, so that’s one person. I think finally in the next chapter there will be some serious Ginny trauma. There will also be some reconciliation with Draco, eventually. I can’t promise much about when and how long they’ll be together throughout the first five books, but they will be together by the end. Yep… Tell me what you think!

Draco decided it would be best to avoid Ginny over the next few weeks, watching her only from afar. She seemed to be adjusting well to her new classes and friends, though it seemed as though she was spending less and less time with the other first years, and more time by herself or lusting after Harry. Draco found it quite sickening that Ginny was so taken by Harry, especially when he knew that Harry did not even notice her at all.

As he watched Ginny, usually at meals in the Great Hall or passing her in the corridors, he had observed that she did not look like her normal energetic self. She seemed more tired and pale. No one else around her noticed a difference, except perhaps her eldest brother—but he was generally overworked by his prefect duties and had little time to figure out what was wrong with Ginny.

Trying to distract himself from Ginny’s curious changes, Draco kept himself busy with Quidditch and classes. He continued to patrol the hallways at his leisure with Vincent and Gregory at his side, but he had not annoyed the Weasels in awhile. In fact, he was quite impressed with himself for not insulting them—Ginny would have been proud, if she were actually talking to him, that is. The few times he had tried to talk to her, she had given him a cold glare before turned a corner and disappearing. She seemed to have an impeccable knowledge of the school’s hidden passageways, because Draco could never find her once she vanished from sight.

October soon arrived, and along with it came a sudden increase in fevers and sicknesses among the students. Draco supposed that Ginny’s paleness might have been a cold, like the rest of the student body. Concerned, he sent the Weasel Percy an anonymous note, advising him to make Ginny take some of the Pepperup potion that Madam Pomfrey was passing out to ailing students. He could tell his note had worked, because the next time he saw Ginny she was smoking from her ears so badly that it looked as though her bright hair was on fire.

The month passed quickly, as many students spent a lot of time sleeping in order to accelerate the boredom caused by the chilly and damp weather. Draco spent most of his time in the Slytherin common room in the chair closest to the fire, absorbing as much of the heat as he could. The dungeons were a stupid place to put a dormitory, he thought to himself as he stopped in his bedchambers to grab another sweater. It was ridiculously gloomy for the month of October, and Draco wished that it would perk up a little before Quidditch season started.

It was nearly Halloween, and still Ginny was not looking any less pale. Draco had thought it odd before, but now he was starting to get concerned. In all the years he had known her, she had never looked like that—and although he had his own friends and business to attend to that did not involve babysitting the littlest Weasley, he could not help but feel uneasy.

Draco shook his head—he could not let her troubles distract him—she did not want him to talk to her anyway. He sighed and grabbed his broomstick—he needed to find a way to escape everything—his father’s high expectations, Ginny’s strange behavior, and then the thought that he had no one to confide to, even if he wanted to. Maybe he should try to talk to Ginny again.


~*~


Ginny woke up late on Halloween—she had been sleeping in quite a bit lately. It seemed as though no matter when she went to bed, she always was tired. Of course, she never went straight to bed, because she always had to talk to Tom a little about her day. Ginny was beginning to think that the loss of sleep was messing with her head, because there were times when she suddenly forgot what she was in the process of doing, and she was having problems remembering what she did earlier in the week, especially at during the evening hours.

She was excited about the Halloween banquet—she had heard her roommates talk about it for days. She never talked to them anymore, but she still listened silently from her bed as they gossiped each night. The Great Hall was spectacularly decorated, and supposedly, there were going to be dancing skeletons for entertainment, though people could not confirm that.

After spending most of the day alone in her room, Ginny got ready for dinner an hour early. She wanted to see all the decorations and grandeur that everyone else had been endlessly talking about. She pranced down the stairs towards the Great Hall, when suddenly she felt someone grab her wrist. Looking at the captor, she realized that it was Draco, yet again. “What do you want this time?” she asked sternly, trying to be cold but failing miserably because of her Halloween spirit.


~*~


“What’s the matter with you these days, Ginny?” Draco asked concernedly. He was standing halfway behind a tall suit of armor, so that if any students came through the corridor, they would not be able to see him, although if they saw him holding onto Ginny’s arm he was sure they would be quite suspicious.

Ginny rolled her eyes at Draco and stepped behind the suit of armor, squeezing herself into the small space. “Nothing is wrong, Draco—I’ve just found different friends,” she said lamely, staring at him blankly.

“No, you haven’t,” Draco said, narrowing his eyes at Ginny. “I’ve watched you—all you do is wander around by yourself or write in that stupid book of yours. You haven’t spoken to one of your ‘friends’ in weeks!” Draco stared at Ginny’s eyes, trying to get some sense of what she was feeling. “As much as I try, I can’t not care about you—I’ve known you for so many years, and I can’t understand why you’re suddenly so… unsociable.” He waved his hands around, trying to think of the words to describe what he was feeling. It was a bit unnerving for Ginny to just stare at him without saying anything. She seemed to be pondering something, and there was confusion in her eyes. “Ginny, I care about you…” he offered, trying his best to reconcile with her. They were both crammed behind the suit of armor—it was the closest Draco had been to Ginny for quite some time. He almost wanted to reach out and hug her, telling her that everything would be all right—but he had a sinking suspicion that she would just hit him if she tried. For a petite girl, she had a great deal of strength—Draco had learned this several years ago.

He watched as her eyes flickered around, perplexed and bewildered about something. Suddenly, the confusion faded and her eyes regained their focus on Draco. He could almost see the muscles moving in her face as her vacant expression turned intense. “I don’t need your pity, Draco,” she said severely. “I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. I’m sorry if you’re not happy, but I have different friends now—ones that don’t talk to me when they need me and then drop me for their little vendettas against my last name.”

“I haven’t insulted your brothers in weeks!” Draco claimed, defending himself. He was beginning to get very confused—he had not seen her with anyone else in weeks, and he had no idea who this ‘friend’ that she kept talking about was. He tried to reach out to comfort her, but she jerked away suddenly, falling out of the alcove they were sitting in. Jumping out after her, Draco tried to help her up but she wrenched herself away and glared at him.

“I don’t need your help! I’m fine!” she yelled, her voice echoing down the empty hallway. She sounded as though she was trying to convince herself through her yelling. Ginny quickly rose to her feet and glared at Draco, “I don’t need help. Not from you. Not from anyone,” she said, falsely stern. Then she turned and ran out of the hallway, towards the Gryffindor dormitories.

Draco stared after her, wondering what was wrong. Now he was really certain that she was not all right. If only he could keep tabs on her long enough to figure out what was causing her unexplainable changes. He sighed and headed towards the Great Hall—there was no use chasing after her—she knew the secret passageways of the castle much better than he did. Maybe after dinner he would be able to talk to her.


~*~


Ginny ran back to the Gryffindor dormitories as fast as she could, eager to get away from Draco’s sympathy. She did not need his condolences—she did not need to be his little charity case. She was perfectly capable of choosing her own friends, and he did not need to keep interfering. He was almost acting like one of her overprotected brothers. Passing several of her roommates in the hallway, Ginny told them she had forgotten something as she continued towards the portrait hole.

She climbed into the Gryffindor common room, but it was very empty due to the fact that everyone else had gone down to the Great Hall for Halloween festivities. As she climbed the stairs to her dorm, Hermione rushed down the stairs past her, hurrying to meet Harry and Ron who had stealthily appeared from the boys dormitories. Wondering briefly why they were not at the Great Hall yet, she brushed the thought aside as she heard Harry mention something about a party. They were just running a bit late, Ginny figured.

Upon reaching her room, Ginny flopped down on her bed and began to write furiously in her journal.


~*~


Sweet Ginny… She has finally returned to me—again earlier than the previous night. It seems that she becomes fed up with her friends and family sooner and sooner each day, and she then turns to me for support. I know that tonight is the night—Ginny has been talking about it for weeks. The entire school will be at the Great Hall to celebrate Halloween, and finally--finally, the Chamber of Secrets will open again. I am not surprised that Ginny opted out of the festivities—she tells me that she would rather write than do anything else. With pleasure I offered encouragements for her to do as she pleased. She is a big girl now—full of real life problems and traumas. Does Harry Potter notice her? Does Draco Malfoy hate her? Does anyone care about her? Anyone? I had alleviated her pain—showing her that someone does care—and over time, she has come to trust me more than anyone else. My plan is nearly complete, and with the help of Ginny Weasley, I will finish the work of Salazar Slytherin that was started so many years ago.

I shall invite her into my memories once more, and channel her thoughts to my noble purpose as we began the processes necessary to purge the school of Mudbloods, once and for all.


~*~


Draco yawned loudly as the Halloween banquet drew to a close. Despite all the hype about it, it was really quite boring and tedious. As soon as it was over, Draco hurried to leave the Great Hall to return to his common room. He found himself trapped between large crowds of students, all pushing down the hallway.

Suddenly, he ran into the person in front of him—everyone had stopped for no reason. Impatiently, Draco squeezed up to the front of the crowd. They all seemed to be entranced by some text on the wall. Draco squinted at the wall and read “THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED, ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.” Draco could vaguely remember his father speaking of the Chamber of Secrets… It was a Hogwarts legend—one that most had heard of, but no one really believed.

It was eerily silent as the students struggled to see the writing on the wall. Draco could see Potter, Weasley and Granger off in the distance, staring at a still figure which looked oddly like Filch’s cat. It looked… dead… Draco smiled at the sight of Filch’s cat, Ms. Norris—that cat was amazing annoying and nosy, and if it really was dead, it would be a blessing for everyone.

“Enemies of the heir, beware! You’ll be next, Mudbloods!” Draco said, sarcastically mocking the sign. He walked over to Ms. Norris hanging upside down and peered at her closely—she looked nearly dead. Draco glanced back at the Mudblood Granger—she looked completely horrified. The Weasley and Potter looked similarly shocked at the cat and the writing on the wall.

Out of the corner of his eye, Draco saw Filch approaching, with Dumbledore and a trail of other teachers right behind. Draco slipped back into the crowd of students, wanting to avoid any unnecessary confrontation with professors. Harry Potter and the Golden Trio may be able to escape punishment in any situation, but Draco was generally not granted the same privilege. Besides, Draco did not want to get blamed for killing the cat—Potter could deal with that instead.

Wandering slowly downstairs to the dungeons, Draco tried to remember what he had heard about the Chamber of Secrets. He knew the story involved the founders of Hogwarts, especially Salazar Slytherin. Draco knew that Slytherin’s purpose had been to eliminate Muggle borns from Hogwarts—perhaps there was someone at Hogwarts now who wished to continue his plans. Either that or someone was playing a very clever joke—it certainly had everyone talking. Draco figured that Potter and his gang were probably trying to solve the mystery, seeing as the Mudblood Granger certainly did not want to purge the school of her own kind.

Draco sat down in the most comfortable armchair next to the common room fire. He still did not understand what it all meant, if it were actually true. Perhaps he should ask his father—his father probably knew more about the Chamber of Secrets. His father probably knew who the heir to Slytherin was.

The rest of the Slytherin students slowly meandered in, all discussing who the heir was, and if the whole ordeal was really one big joke. Maybe it was someone’s excuse to kill Filch’s bloody cat as a gift to the entire student body. Draco smirked—maybe now he would be able to wander the castle without Ms. Norris alerting Filch of his every move. Vincent and Gregory slowly lumbered over to Draco and sat down on the other chairs around the fire.

“Do you know who the heir of Slytherin is?” Vincent asked Draco slowly, as though it was hurting his head to strung so many words together in one sentence.

“No,” Draco snapped, “I don’t know. I’ll have to ask my father.” He stopped talking, shooting both of them a glare which warned them not to bother him any more. They grunted in affirmation, and the three of them continued to sit in silence for a long moment.

Finally, Draco rose slowly, and nodded good-night to the two large brutes before he walked over to his private bedroom and went to sleep.


~*~


Ginny awoke, disheveled and awkwardly positioned on the wrong end of her bed. The curtains were closed around her, but her blankets were pulled off the bed and her pillows were all over the place. She reached a hand up to flatten her rumpled hair, but she noticed that her hand was dirty and covered with red paint. She looked down at her front—she had not changed into her nightclothes; instead, she was still wearing her black robes from the day before, but they were splattered with red paint, and she had little pieces of white fluff stuck to her front.

She picked a white fluff off and looked at it carefully—it appeared to be a feather of some sort. Furrowing her eyebrows in concentration, Ginny closed her eyes and tried to remember she had done the previous night that involved paint, feathers, and dirt. All she could recollect was that she had gone to the Great Hall for the banquet. But wait—maybe she did not go to the Great Hall… She never made it there… because… because she had been arguing with Draco! And then she had come back here to her dorm, and talked to Tom. She bit her lip and looked straight ahead at the curtains. What she remembered from last night did not make any sense—she must be forgetting something. She tried hard to recall some other event, but she failed miserably.

Still befuddled, Ginny changed out of her dirty clothes and showered before heading down to the Great Hall for breakfast.


~*~


The Chamber of Secrets has been reopened—finally I can follow in the righteous footsteps of Salazar Slytherin as Ginny and I cleanse Hogwarts of Mudbloods. I pity the fool who gets in my way. The reopening of the chamber transpired without a hitch—my only disappointment is that we only managed to petrify that ridiculous cat. It was a horrible waste of our efforts—but no worries, there is plenty of time to prolong our mission—and someday, the school will be purified of those unworthy of studying magic.


~*~

A/N: I’m trying to pick up the pace of the story, and move on… I got caught up in keeping to the books and introducing Ginny and Draco, but now I think it’s time for better things to happen… Besides, they need to stop arguing and just get together… Hehe… Tell me what you think, and I’ll get more up. Also, I’m considering going back to edit the first chapters.. We’ll see... I just printed out all of the first 6ish chapters--it's a lot of paper... Haha... Oh well... I'll have fun with that... :)

Ginny gazed around the Great Hall during breakfast, listening to the speculation about Mrs. Norris and the Chamber of Secrets. Pressing her hands to her forehead, she desperately tried to recollect what she had done the previous night. Her hands felt cold and clammy against her head, and she could feel herself shudder slightly as she looked down into her untouched plate.

Glancing around the Great Hall, she looked to see if there was anyone she could entrust with her thoughts. Harry, Hermione and Ron were huddled together, whispering secrets—probably about the Chamber of Secrets. All her dorm mates were discussing their thoughts quietly with some other students. From across the room, she could see Draco Malfoy staring at her, a strange look of concern mingling with the traditional smug expression on his face. She looked away—he would never want to talk to her, especially after the previous night.

Rising suddenly, she pushed her plate aside and headed back towards her dormitory. There was one person she knew would always listen to her and would help her. Looking at her robes from the previous night heaped on the floor in the corner of her room, she flipped her diary open and began to write, “Dear Tom, I can’t remember what I did on the night of Halloween, but a cat was attacked and I’ve got paint all down my front.”

“Perhaps you had a bit too much fun at the Halloween festivities?”

Ginny contemplated his statement for a moment. Maybe she had gone to the Halloween party—she would not put it past her brothers to play tricks on her—but the paint still seemed very strange, and highly coincidental. She snapped the diary shut and shoved it in her pocket—if only she knew what was happening to her.


*~*~*


The days passed slowly as people fearfully whispered and gossiped about the Chamber of Secrets, and the Heir of Slytherin. The rumours were wild and unfounded, but Draco found himself to be the focus of many. He was not really certain as to why everyone seemed to believe this—but he did not care, he had more important things to concentrate on anyway, like Quidditch. Only several days before the first Quidditch match of the season did it dawn upon the students that on Saturday, Gryffindor and Slytherin would be playing—usually one of the most highly anticipated games of the year.

Draco had been trying to distract himself with Quidditch, but it was difficult with all the gossip floating around. He had tried to ask his father about the Chamber of Secrets, but his father had told him nothing of interest, only that if Draco knew too much about it, it would be bring suspicions about him. The only substantial thing Draco had found out about the last time the chamber was opened was that a Muggle born had died.

Ginny had been even paler and more fragile looking lately—Draco figured she must have been a cat lover, and taken Filch’s cat being petrified to heart. However, he still had the sinking suspicion that something else was wrong with her, but he was beginning to give up with trying to help her. Besides, he had Quidditch to attend to.

The Saturday of the match was humid and moist—Draco’s least favorite flying conditions. He ate a meager breakfast, worried about the match that was about to happen. He played his hardest, but Potter had still managed to snatch the Snitch before Draco could grab it. Draco had not even seen the Snitch until Potter had nearly careened into him. Of course, Potter could not just win, but he also had to make a huge show with breaking his arm and crashing into the ground. Draco had rolled his eyes at the situation—one of the bludgers that they had been playing with did seem to be tampered with, but then Potter had to blow everything out of proportion, like he usually did.

Draco had stalked off to join the rest of his team, only to be yelled at by Marcus Flint for missing the Snitch. Rolling his eyes and frowning, Draco walked away towards his dormitory, where he stayed in his room by himself until everyone else had gone to bed.


*~*~*


Once he was certain that the common room was empty, Draco cautiously crept out, planning on going to the kitchens to get some food from the house elves. He snuck carefully down the hallway, watching for signs of Filch and prefects, but he found no one except a pair of older students sneaking into an empty room—probably to have a good snog, Draco figured.

After eating a warm sandwich and a glass of pumpkin juice from the kitchens, Draco felt like continuing to wander around the castle. It was always exhilarating to roam the castle at night, trying not to be caught by Filch. He figured it would be easier to sneak around, especially now that Mrs. Norris was petrified. Filch had been very bitter lately, and he primarily patrolled the second floor hallway where Mrs. Norris had been petrified.

Slowly meandering down the hallway, Draco idly looked around—the castle was still and silent at night, a drastic change from the loudness during the day. He smirked as he saw another pair of students sneak into a classroom, and a small Gryffindor first year with a huge camera and a bunch of grapes nervously creep down the hallway. Draco briefly considered frightening the small boy, but then decided against it—it would not be worth it if he got caught.

Hearing rushed footsteps in the hallway, Draco sucked in his breath and jumped behind a suit of armor. He watched as a curly haired prefect girl walked down the hallway and turned the corner out of sight. Draco sighed, allowing the anxiety of being caught flow out of his body. He vigilantly turned the corner, looking both ways down the hallway. Suddenly, a door creaked open slowly, and Percy Weasley edged out, warily glancing down the hallway in both directions before resuming a pompous posture and walking down the corridor in the opposite direction. Draco narrowed his eyes—why was Weasley sneaking around in the middle of the night. He peeked both ways down the hallway again, looking for other students sneaking around—it seemed as though everyone was taking advantage of Filch’s cat being petrified.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as an entranced looking Ginny ambled down the hallway and out of sight. Curious, Draco carefully skulked after her, stealthily turning the corner that she had disappeared at. He watched as she dazedly opened the girl’s bathroom door, right near the hallway where Filch usually patrolled. Draco stared after her curiously—he wondered how she had not gotten caught by Filch. Suddenly, as though answering his question, he heard the unmistakable sound of Peeve’s wreaking havoc several floors above.

Draco carefully crept as close has he could to the girls bathroom without being in clear sight of people roaming the halls. He was trying to discern what Ginny was doing, roaming the castle in the middle of the night. Perhaps she sleepwalked, he thought. He sat in the corridor for nearly fifteen minutes, waiting for Ginny to return. Finding her disappearance peculiar, Draco wandered up to the girls bathroom door, wondering if he should go in. Carefully opening the door, Draco looked in to see if he could hear Ginny, but suddenly a squat ghost with glasses and limp hair started howling.

“You’re not a girl!” she cried, “This is a girl’s bathroom!” Draco rapidly shut the door and took off down the hallway—her racket was certain to catch the attention of Filch. As he quickly headed towards the Slytherin dormitories, he heard the unmistakable footsteps of Filch hot on his tail. Suddenly, he heard a strange noise from upstairs, and Filch’s footsteps pattered upstairs. Curious as to what distracted Filch, Draco headed up one of the secret passageways he knew about and furtively snuck towards the commotion in the hallway.

Professor McGonagall was gasping loudly as several other teachers arrived on the scene to see the problem. Draco looked out of his hiding place to see the cause of the fuss. Breathing in a sharply, Draco stared in horror at the petrified lump on the floor. It appeared to be the Gryffindor first year, with his camera and grapes. Shocked, Draco wondered what could have petrified the boy. Obviously the rumours about the Chamber of Secrets were true. Perhaps he would have to ask his father again. Draco covertly snuck back to the Slytherin common room, the whole time thinking to himself about the Chamber of Secrets and who the heir could possibly be.


*~*~*


Ginny arose in the morning, again tired from her sleepless night. She was beginning to get very concerned about her problems sleeping well. She thought perhaps all students were like this when adjusting to being away from home, but she did not see her dorm mates having difficultly sleeping like she did. She sighed and got ready to go downstairs—the previous night had been yet another strange night. Gryffindor had been celebrating their Quidditch victory, although it had not been as rambunctious as usual, probably because Harry was in the hospital wing. She remembered going to the party and having a wild time with her brothers, trying to forget about all the bizarre events happening to her; however, she had eventually headed upstairs for bed and gone to sleep. She felt as though she had only slept for a few hours—maybe Fred or George had given her something strange to eat.

Ginny idly wandered downstairs to breakfast. She sat down near her first year roommates at the breakfast table, but they did not seem as talkative as usual. In fact, the entire hall seemed a bit subdued and worried. Listening intently to a conversation at the table behind her, she heard a frightened sounding girl whisper something about a Gryffindor boy who had been petrified. Shocked, Ginny looked up and down the Gryffindor table, which seemed even more passive than the rest of the houses.

“Who was petrified?” Ginny quietly asked on of her roommates.

“Colin Creevy,” said the girl softly, “They say he was sneaking through the corridors last night, towards the hospital wing, and then McGonagall found him petrified.” She seemed entirely terrified at what had happened. Ginny was feeling a bit sick to her stomach, she kept sensing that something was wrong with herself, but she had no proof.

Ginny distractedly attended her classes, trying to forget about all the strange occurrences. She was probably just overreacting—she was just having difficulties adjusting to being away from her parents—that was all.


*~*~*


One week later, Draco was roaming the hallways when he saw a sign for a Dueling Club. Figuring that this would be a good opportunity for him to practice his knowledge of spells, Draco decided to attend. That evening, he wandered arrogantly into the Great Hall, staring condescendingly at everyone who turned their eyes in his direction.

Nonchalantly gazing around the room, Draco looked to see who else had shown up. He saw the Golden Trio, standing together near a large group of Gryffindors. He was looking to see if Ginny had decided to come, when suddenly Professor Lockhart paraded himself onto the stage, wearing ridiculously colored purple robes. He smiled slightly as he saw Professor Snape following Lockhart, a wicked sneer gracing his face. Hoping that perhaps Snape would finish the conceited Lockhart off, Draco turned his attention to the stage party to see what they would teach.

Soon enough, he had watched Snape disarm Lockhart and sent him flying backwards. Draco almost cheered for the Potions professor. Shortly after, Draco found himself paired with Harry Potter to practice disarming.

He bowed curtly at Harry, and then prepared himself for Lockhart’s countdown. Eager to cast his spell first, he anticipated Lockhart’s third count and sent his spell at Harry. However, Harry quickly recovered and hit him with another spell. Draco doubled up with laughter—that bloody Potter had hit him with a tickling spell. He could not remember the last time he had been tickled as he clutched his stomach, trying to stop the sensation long enough to cast another spell. He almost liked the tickling sensation though—it reminded him of his days at the Ministry with Ginny. He looked up and aimed his wand at Potter, yelling a spell at Harry which caused his legs to start dancing manically.

“Finite Incantatem!” shouted Snape, and the giddy feeling from the tickling abruptly stopped. Draco wished it could have stayed for a moment longer—it brought back such happy memories… He daydreamed for a moment about how Ginny and him would play Exploding Snap or Gobstones, and then talk for hours and fool around…

Suddenly, his attention was brought back to the Dueling Club as he heard Snape announce his name as a volunteer to duel in front of everyone, along with Potter. Draco rolled his eyes as Lockhart agreed eagerly. Draco watched as Lockhart moved towards Harry and tried to offer him advice about dueling, when he felt Professor Snape move down towards his ear.

“Serpensortia,” Professor Snape said strongly and quietly into his ear. Smirking, Draco looked towards Professor Snape and nodded, acknowledging the spell. He was not sure exactly what the spell did, but he was certain the Professor Snape would want him to triumph over Harry Potter.

He looked at Harry Potter superciliously, “Scared?” he asked quietly.

“You wish,” responded Potter. Draco smiled smugly as Lockhart clouted Potter on the shoulder and set the two of them up for the duel.

“Three—two—one—go!” Lockhart shouted merrily. Draco raised his wanted immediately and took careful aim towards Potter.

“Serpensortia!” he yelled loudly. He was stunned as a long snake jetted out of his wand onto the floor between him and Potter. He smiled smugly at Potter, trying to maintain his Malfoy air of superiority.

“Don’t move, Potter,” said Snape from Draco’s side. Draco could tell Snape was enjoying the moment, “I’ll get rid of it…” he continued, lazily raising his wand towards the snake.

“Allow me!” shouted Lockhart as he waved his wand showily, ending with a huge flourish which shot the snake ten feet into the air. Angrily, the snake slithered across the tables towards Justin Finch-Fletchley, a Hufflepuff boy in Draco’s year.

Suddenly, Draco heard a loud hissing noise, not coming from the snake. He turned quickly, and watched as Potter ran towards the snake, shouting at the snake in its own language. He seemed to be encouraging the snake as he approached it swiftly. However, after a moment the snake stopped moving towards Justin as it turned around to face Harry, who was looking at the snake in shock. Draco stared at Potter strangely—he could speak Parseltongue—one of the very rarest magical abilities.

“What do you think you’re playing at?” shouted Justin at the surprised looking Potter. Snape quickly banished the snake as Potter continued to look around at everyone, stunned. It was almost as though he did not know what he had just done. Draco watched as Weasley and Granger rushed him out of the room. Contemplating what had just happened, Draco remembered that talking to snakes was one of the Dark Lord’s abilities. Perhaps Potter was the Heir of Slytherin—except that it did not make sense. Potter’s best friends were a Muggle lover and a Mudblood—he would never want to purge the school of Muggle-borns. Distractedly, Draco excused himself from the dueling club and headed downstairs to the dungeons—he had to write his father another letter.


*~*~*


Dazed and disoriented, Ginny was startled awake as she heard a loud commotion from the Gryffindor common room. She jumped out of bed and rushed towards the landing. Standing at the top of the stairs, she listened as a frantic first year was telling about how there had been more attacks on the school.

She felt something jerk inside of her as she realized it was the middle of the afternoon. She could barely recall waking up that morning—but she was completely baffled as to why she was in her room again. She stood for a moment, wondering what to do. She could write to Tom again—he still talked to her and tried to make her feel better, but his sympathy and advice did not help much anymore.

Recently, Ginny had been noticing strange coincidences between her lapses of memory and the attacks on students. She had no idea how it was happening, but she had a sinking suspicion that she was the one who was attacking the students. Needing someone to talk to, she pulled out her diary and began to write. “Dear Tom, Percy keeps telling me I’m pale and I’m not myself”—that much she was certain of. She was having the hardest time remembering what she did before she went to sleep at night, and more recently there had been gaping holes in the middle of days that she could not recollect. All of this was causing her to act oddly and be even more solitary. “There was another attack today, and I don’t know where I was. Tom, what am I going to do? I think I’m going mad.” She scribbled furiously. The attacks were always coinciding with the times when she could not remember what she was doing. It was almost too peculiar to be a coincidence. “I think I’m the one attacking everyone, Tom!” She wrote desperately, wondering if he would be able to consol her. She watched as his understanding words appeared, telling her that everything was okay. Not feeling any better, Ginny closed the diary and placed it under her pillow. If only she knew what was happening to her…

Over the following weeks, many rumours began circulating the school about Harry Potter being the Heir of Slytherin. Only one day after Potter had been discovered as a Parseltongue, Justin Finch-Fletchley and Nearly Headless Nick had been found petrified in the hallway with Harry standing next to them.

Ginny was feeling especially lost and alone these days—her roommates did not talk to her much because she spent most of her time in solitude, and no one else seemed to notice her. Fred and George had taken to teasing Harry about being the Heir of Slytherin, which she did not find very amusing at all. She still felt as though she knew something about the Chamber of Secrets that everyone else did not know, but could not discern what that was. Draco had tried to approach her yet again, and she had brushed him off like before. She almost regretted shunning him as she saw him looking bitter and upset whenever they passed in the hallways. It was almost as though he wanted to help her.

It was nearly time for the Christmas holidays, and many students were getting ready to head home for the break. Ginny was planning on staying in lieu of visiting Bill in Egypt with her parents. She normally spent Christmas with her parents visiting her brothers—this year, she wanted to stay with her brothers at Hogwarts.

Finally, Christmas break arrived and the castle became oddly empty. Ginny knew that Draco had stayed for the holidays, probably because he generally did not get along well with his father. She briefly wondered how he was, and how his father had been treating him.

Ginny wandered down to the empty Gryffindor common room and picked up a magazine from a table. Idly flipping through it, she noticed an ad for singing valentines. She smiled to herself—Tom had told her she should send Harry something for Christmas, but she had not had the money. However, she had received a little bit of money as an early Christmas present, so perhaps she could afford to send Harry a valentine in February. She carefully removed the ad from the magazine and tucked in her pocket before heading back to her room.

She opened her diary and asked Tom what he thought about a singing valentine—he said did not care, but that she should send him something. She wrote a silly little poem and then copied it for Tom, who said it was quite excellent. Smiling, she filled out the order for Valentine’s Day, even though it was several months away. Tom was very insistent on her talking to Harry and finding out details about him. She sent the order via a school owl, and then headed to the Great Hall for breakfast.


*~*~*


Draco woke up early on Christmas morning, eagerly anticipating the many gifts he would receive from his parents. He opened the boxes of treats and candy his mother had sent him, along with a very heavy, warm cloak lined with soft fur. He walked into the Slytherin common room, carrying his new gift over his arm. His father had a similarly expensive clock that Draco had always admired, and he was pleased with his father’s gift.

He spent most the day outside, enjoying the time by himself. Not many students were outside as it was particularly cold, so he was not interrupted at all. Later, he entered the Great Hall and sat with Vincent and Gregory, who were busy stuffing their faces with everything they could see. Draco looked across the room to the Gryffindor table, where a pale looking Ginny was pushing her food around on her plate.

“What are you looking at?” Gregory asked Draco curiously, trying to follow his gaze over to the Gryffindor table.

Startled that they had noticed, he quickly thought of something to say. Draco smirked at Potter and his obviously homemade sweatshirt. “Look at Potter’s shirt,” he started snidely, “it looks as though it was made from some dead thing he found on the road.” Draco smiled smugly as the Slytherin’s around him sniggered at Potter—they seemed to be satisfied with his remark. Draco continued to stare at Ginny, who had not eaten a single bite from her plate. Suddenly, the Golden Trio stood and left. Draco watched them wander out and then turned to look back at Ginny—she was distractedly watching them leave as her brother Percy was trying to convince her to eat something.

Draco sipped his cup of tea as he watched Percy attempt to force feed Ginny. Angrily, she had thrown the food back at him and then picked up her own fork and swallowed several bites. He looked back towards Vincent and Gregory, had eaten most of the food near them at the table.

After he had finished his tea, Draco waited around in the Great Hall a while longer, watching the students happily converse with his friends. He had a fleeting wish had friends to have fun with, but then he brushed the thought aside. He could talk to his ‘friends’ if he wanted to—perhaps he would talk to Vincent and Gregory later, if they did not pass out from all the food they were consuming.

He excused himself and left the Great Hall, starting to head back to the Slytherin dormitory but then deciding to go take a walk outside and enjoy the cool evening air with his new cloak. Thinking about Ginny, he ambled towards the lake—he wanted to help her, but he knew that his father would never agree. He continued his long stroll, and after a little while he decided to return to the castle. Wandering towards the Slytherin common room, he found Vincent and Gregory distracted by one of the Weasley brothers.

“There you are,” he said as he walked up to his cronies, “Have you two been pigging out in the Great Hall all this time? I’ve been looking for you; I want to show you something really funny.” He acted as though he had just noticed Weasley, and gave him a haughty gaze, “and what’re you doing down here, Weasley?” he sneered.

“You want to show a bit more respect to a school prefect!” the Weasley said loudly, “I don’t like your attitude.” Draco smirked at his statement. Show respect to a Weasley? He nearly wanted to outright laugh in his face. Controlling himself, he gestured to Vincent and Gregory and headed towards the Slytherin common room. He sighed and looked at them, “That Peter Weasley—”

“Percy,” corrected Vincent. For a fleeting moment, Draco wondered how Vincent knew which Weasley was which.

“Whatever,” Draco continued, not really caring about Weasley at all. “I’ve noticed him sneaking around a lot lately. And I bet I know what he’s up to. He thinks he’s going to catch Slytherin’s heir single-handed.” Draco laughed shortly, but Vincent and Gregory did not join in. Perhaps they had eaten too much—Draco would not doubt it. He turned to Gregory and asked idly, “What’s that new password again?”

“Er—” started Gregory, looking as baffled as ever. Draco rolled his eyes at their stupidity.

“Oh yeah—pure-blood!” Draco said. He walked into the common room—it was empty. Trying to recall what he had wanted to show Vincent and Gregory, he stood for a moment and thought. Suddenly, he remembered that his father had sent him an article about Arthur Weasley—usually those two brutes thought the newspaper clippings his father sent were hilarious. Looking at the two boys, who looked completely lost in the common room, he told them to wait while he ran to his room.

Grabbing the article off his bed from underneath his gifts, he quickly returned to the common room where Vincent and Gregory had sat down in the chairs next to the fireplace. Handing the article to Vincent, he waited expectantly for them to read it. He knew it would take them awhile to read it—Gregory seemed to have given up with trying to comprehend it and was laughing weakly. Draco rolled his eyes—they were so dense sometimes. “Well?” he asked them as Gregory handed the paper back to him—they had read the article unusually fast. “Don’t you think it’s funny?” he continued.

“Ha ha,” said Gregory feebly. Draco looked at him strangely—they must have eaten too much—they were acting quite peculiar.

“Arthur Weasley loves Muggles so much he should snap his wand in half and go join them,” Draco said disdainfully, thinking about how the Weasleys all seemed to one-up him in everything. Except Ginny, he remembered—but then, Ginny was no longer talking to him. “You’d never know the Weasleys were pure-bloods, the way they behave,” he continued, before glancing up at Vincent’s face, which looked oddly livid. “What’s up with you, Crabbe?” Draco snapped, wondering what possessed him to act so unordinary.

“Stomachache,” Vincent grunted, clutching his stomach. Draco smirked—of course he had a stomachache with everything that he had eaten today. Draco would not have been surprised if they had staying in the Great Hall the entire time he was taking a walk.

“Well, go up to the hospital wing and give all those Mudbloods a kick from me,” Draco said snidely. “You know, I’m surprised the Daily Prophet hasn’t reported all these attacks yet. I suppose Dumbledore’s trying to hush it all up. He’ll be sacked if it doesn’t stop soon. Father’s always said old Dumbledore’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to this place. He loves Muggle-borns. A decent headmaster would never’ve let slime like that Creevey in.” Draco talked lazily, reciting everything his father had always told him. He knew that Vincent and Gregory had grown up in similar families, believing the same things Draco had always learned. Draco was not sure how much of what his father said was true, but it was certainly better to be on his father’s good side rather than make him angry by defying him.

Draco shook his head at the thought of the Creevey boy—it was no loss at all that he had been petrified—all that boy did was follow Harry Potter, taking pictures and worshiping him. Draco pretended he was taking pictures with an imaginary camera and mimicked Colin’s voice, “ ‘Potter, can I have your picture? Can I have your autograph? Can I lick your shoes, please, Potter?’” Looking at Vincent and Gregory’s equally blank stares, Draco was very confused at their slow responses. “What’s the matter with you two?” he questioned.

Vincent and Gregory laughed weakly—Draco wondered to himself how they managed to get through their classes without failing—they really were slow on the uptake. He glanced down at the article in his hands—it discussed how Arthur Weasley was facing an inquiry at the Ministry for his flying car. Draco bitterly remembered how Potter and Weasley had been heroes because they crashed that stupid car into the Whomping Willow and not gotten punished. “Saint Potter, the Mudbloods’ friend,” Draco started resentfully, “He’s another one with no proper wizarding feeling, or he wouldn’t go around with that jumped up Granger Mudblood. And people think he’s Slytherin’s heir!” Draco sulkily remembered the first day on the train to Hogwarts when Harry Potter had rejected his friendship—then Potter had gone on to become everyone’s favorite idol while Draco was left behind in the shadows. And now people thought Potter was Slytherin’s heir? Draco could not believe what possessed the school to be so dense—obviously Potter would not be trying to rid the school of Mudbloods. “I wish I knew who it is,” Draco said, “I could help them.” Anything to help rid the school of all the insufferable gits who worshiped Potter, he thought bitterly.

“You must have some idea who’s behind it all…” started Gregory thickly, while Vincent looked on with his mouth gaping open, looking entirely daft and stupid. Draco shook his head at Gregory—he had told them thousands of times that his father would tell him nothing, and yet they persistently asked him about the heir of Slytherin.

“You know I haven’t, Goyle, how many times do I have to tell you?” Draco snapped at the large boy, before relating everything he knew about the Chamber of Secrets from his father. It seemed as though they never remembered anything he told them unless he repeated it eighty times. Draco was beginning to get fed up with their stupidity. He exasperatedly finished the conversation, barely even surprised when Gregory could not remember what Azkaban was. Suddenly, they both jumped up, looking frantically at each other. They both looked a little odd—Vincent was looking very red and turning paler.

“Medicine for my stomach,” Vincent grunted before both of them fled from the room. Draco looked after them suspiciously, trying to remember the last time he had seen them run so fast. Then he shook his head; he was happy for them to be gone—they were too dense for words.


*~*~*


Ginny tried to enjoy herself as the Christmas holidays passed. She spend some quality time with her brothers—Percy seemed to be very concerned about her passive behavior, and had finally found time to make sure she was eating and sleeping properly. The twins were up to their usual antics, and since most of their friends had gone home for the holidays, they had also been spending more time with Ginny. Ron was always busy with Harry—it seemed that Hermione had gone home after Christmas Day; Ginny figured she had decided to spend the rest of Christmas break with her family.

Ginny had been feeling better lately—more alive and upbeat; perhaps because she had more friends and family around to talk to. She had almost forgotten to write to Tom on some nights because she had been too entertained by the twins, and by the time it was time for bed she was too tired to write. Oddly enough, her memory lapses were becoming more and more infrequent as well—she had a strange instinct about that, but she was so delighted that she was feeling better so she decided not to dwell on it.

However, as suddenly as everything had gotten better, it seemed to get infinitely worse once school started again and all the students came back. She had taken to writing to Tom habitually, and she spent more time alone in her room. It seemed that everyone only cared about her when they had nothing better to do, as though she was just an afterthought—just a tiny dot lost all alone in a world that completely disregarded her.

Ginny awoke the morning classes resumed, feeling disoriented and lost as she did so often before vacation. She distractedly got ready for her classes—wondering what caused her sudden ups and downs. Christmas vacation had been so great, and suddenly she was miserably dejected once again. As she trudged slowly to the Great Hall for breakfast, she heard snippets of conversation in the hallway—rumours of another attack on a student. Ginny shuddered—the attacks always coincidentally coincided with her memory lapses. There had been no attacks all of Christmas break—she had been happy then.

Ginny thought about it a moment longer, slowly dawning realization that she had neglected Tom during most of the holidays. She leaned up against the hallway, breathing shortly and trying to regain her composure—it could not be Tom causing everything—he was her friend! She trusted him! He helped her through all the tough times, and made her feel better. But then, she had never felt better really—he always offered kind words of support, but she would always wake up later the next morning, never remembering what had happened. Ginny felt a tingle of apprehension run down her spine, making her shudder she suddenly felt very cold. It all made sense—she had started writing in the diary as school started, and as she corresponded with Tom more frequently, her condition had deteriorated.

Sliding down the wall, Ginny could barely breathe as everything seemed to slide into place—she was the one who was attacking everyone; Tom was making her. She could barely think over the sound of her heart thumping loudly in her head—fiercely threatening to burst inside. She stood up abruptly, feeling lightheaded and weak, and started to run frantically towards the direction of the Gryffindor dormitories.

Running hysterically, trying to escape the harsh realities in her head, Ginny was not paying attention to where she was going. Suddenly, she halted in front of the girl’s bathroom on the second floor. The hallway was eerily empty, and for some reason the bathroom door looked oddly familiar, although Ginny was certain she had never been there. As she cautiously pushed open the door, disregarding the OUT OF ORDER sign hanging solemnly on the door. Still panting heavily with tears running down her face, she looked into the bathroom. It was the most dismal bathroom she had ever seen—the mirrors were cracked, the sinks were chipped, and everything looked as though it had not been touched in decades. Ginny slowly crept into the bathroom, surveying the room while trying to regain calmness and cease crying but failing.

The room evoked a feeling of uncanny familiarity, and as she looked around more, she felt more and more certain that Tom had caused all of the trauma in her life. She had trusted him—she had told him everything; and he had betrayed her. He had wanted to kill the Muggle-borns—perhaps that was why he wanted to know so much about Harry, because Harry had conquered the most vindictive Muggle hater who ever existed. She felt as though she was hyperventilating as she gazed at the room, taking in everything. Tom had never wanted to help her—he had always been using her. As a sudden impulse, Ginny opened one of the stalls while retrieving the diary from her pocket. She stared at it for a moment, as though apologizing for what she was about to do, even though she knew that Tom had caused more trouble than she had ever deserved. Crying uncontrollably, she threw the battered diary into the toilet and stomped on the handle fiercely before running frantically out of the bathroom.


*~*~*


After breakfast, Draco was wandering lazily down the second floor corridor when suddenly Ginny burst out of a random door and began running hysterically down the hallway, directly in his direction. He had noticed that she was not at breakfast, but he had not really worried; however, it seemed as though something was wrong with her. As he watched her stumble down the hallway crying, he stepped in front of her and grabbed her arms, looking her into her eyes. She stared at him uncertainly, as though she was not sure whether she wanted to run away or talk.

“Are you okay?” Draco heard himself ask concernedly—she was acting very peculiar and he could not help feeling uneasy about Ginny’s behavior. He thought she had stopped her uncharacteristic, solitary behavior during the holidays, but it seemed as though something was still wrong.

Suddenly, Ginny threw her arms around Draco and began sobbing into his shoulder. Thoroughly befuddled, Draco uncertainly looked up and down the hallway for people, but the corridors were thankfully empty. He had not been this close to Ginny in quite some time—he had missed her. He almost felt as though she belonged with him, in his arms. They had been such good friends, and it was just stupid petty reasons that had pulled them apart. He hesitantly reached his arms around her and lightly rubbed her back, trying to comfort her. If only he knew what was wrong…

Ginny held Draco as tightly as she could, trying to squeeze all the bad memories of Tom out of her head. Snuffling into Draco’s robes, she wondered how she could have possibly thought that Tom was good—all the signs had been there the whole time, and she had been to dense to notice. So caught up in her new friend that she had neglected everyone else she knew. Like Draco. He had tried to help her several times—he had cared, and she had not accepted it.

Separating herself from Draco, she looked into his worried eyes. “I—I don’t know…” she started quietly, taking deep breaths as she tried to tell Draco what was wrong. ”It’s just that—well… I can’t believe that I was so stupid…” She waved her hands distractedly, trying to find the right words to describe her relationship with Tom. “I just thought that—well… I thought you hated me—and… and I talked to T—erm… Or uhh… I don’t know—”

A faint clattering of footsteps suddenly arose down the corridor. Frightening, Ginny glanced wide-eyed and apologetically at Draco before turning on her heel and sprinting down the hallway. Draco had already risked so much by coming for her today, and she did not want to jeopardize everything he stood for at Hogwarts, no matter how much she disagreed with it. Not looking back at Draco, she frantically scrambled into a nearby classroom to escape whoever might be coming down the hall.


~*~


Bewildered, Draco stared after Ginny, his mouth gaping open as she ran away. They had been so close to some sort of clarification, but then she had just abandoned him to look stupid as several sixth years rounded the corner, giving him a strange gaze before continuing on their way.

Ginny was clearly upset about something significant—if only he knew what it was. Staring absentmindedly down the hallway to the classroom where she had run, he contemplated chasing after her; however, just as he had made up his mind to follow her, she burst out of the classroom and dashed down the hallway, probably back to her common room, he figured.

Draco thoughtfully reflected over their fleeting embrace and her teary face. Ginny did not deserve to be treated in a way that would make her cry—he would not stand for it. In all his years of knowing her, the only other times he had seen her upset was when he had triggered the conflict himself. It was not in her character to be randomly troubled. There had to be something or someone instigating this, and Draco vowed to find out what it was. He may not be able to confront her in public, but certainly he could work to determine what caused her distress.

More contented and with a new mission in mind, Draco set off towards the Slytherin dormitories


~*~


Running down the hallway, Ginny tried to make sense of everything that had just happened to her. Tom had caused everything, so she had flushed the diary down the toilet, then she had run into Draco and they had been civil, but then she had heard footsteps and fled into an empty classroom, where she had gotten promptly shooed out by her brother Percy who had been snogging a Ravenclaw prefect named Penelope. It all seemed very unreal—her best friend Tom was causing her to do dreadful things, Draco had managed to converse with her without rude jokes about her family, and Perfect Percy had a girlfriend. The last revelation was the most shocking—she had always thought Percy to be very prude and reprove behavior that involved kissing in empty classrooms.

Everything was a bit unusual today, she figured. At least now she did not have Tom—assuming he was the foundation of her problems. Sighing greatly, she trudged back to the Gryffindor dormitories, ready for some time alone and a long nap.


~*~


Time passed quickly in the next few months—the attacks on students had ceased, but there was still an air of anxiety and suspicion. Many were still concerned that the monster would strike as soon as enough students left their guard down. Draco found the whole matter to be quite frivolous—if the heir of Slytherin really wanted to strike, nothing would stop him.

On the brighter side, Ginny seemed more like her normal self. Draco saw her looking livelier and she talked to her friends more. She was appearing at the Great Hall for breakfast more often, which meant she was sleeping more. Overall, she appeared to be very content with life—which made Draco happy.

Draco had not had the chance to talk to her significantly since their day in the hallway. However, they no longer avoiding each other in the hallways, and he had tried to lessen his insults of her family, particularly in her presence. He had also taken to taking the paths to his classes that he knew would coincide with her routes, hoping that he would catch a glimpse of her, ensuring that she was still smiling and jovial.

Valentine’s Day finally rolled around—that despicable holiday where everyone suddenly got mushy and cuddly, and people were expected to convey their hidden emotions to the ones that they adored—or something like that. He had never been fond of Valentine’s Day, or anything it denoted. To him, the best feature of his day was when his mother sent him a huge box of Honeyduke’s chocolates.

The Great Hall was garishly decorated, entirely thanks to Professer Lockhart the resident lurid fool. Not that it was something to be thankful for—in fact, it was quite atrocious and very repulsive. Certainly the gaudy environment could not possibly facilitate anyone’s romantic interactions. However, as Draco looked around the Great Hall, he was revolted to see many couples snuggling and making out, making him want to vomit horribly in the corner.

Terribly sickened, Draco eagerly left the Great Hall so he could walk to his first class in piece. However, as he wandered in the proper direction, he was suddenly distracted by a small dwarf tugging on Harry Potter’s bag. Potter’s back ripped apart, scattering his belongings out all over the floor.

“What’s going on here?” Draco asked amusedly as the dwarf cleared his throat loudly and prepared to sing. Stifling a laugh, Draco looked back and forth between the dwarf and the blushing Potter, entirely entertained by the situation.

His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,
His hair is as dark as a blackboard
I wish he was mine, he’s really divine,
The hero who conquered the Dark Lord

Draco snickered at the ridiculous valentine—it would have been embarrassing for anyone to have received that outlandish poem—but Potter… It was priceless. Draco was abruptly brought back to reality as Percy strived to disperse the crowd who had gathered around him, Potter, and the dwarf.

Not wanting to let that weasel Percy overcome him, Draco picked up a random piece of Potter’s belongings. It looked to be a tattered, old, black diary. “Wonder what Potter’s written in this?” he mused, beginning to flip open it’s yellowed pages.

“Hand it over, Malfoy,” said Percy severely. Draco smiled smugly to himself and ignored Percy’s orders.

“When I’ve had a look,” Draco said, flashing the diary teasingly at Potter, wanting to see what reaction he would get.

Percy began to speak pompously again, but then Potter pulled out his wand. “Expelliarmus!” he yelled, and Draco felt the diary lift out of his hand and fly across the room into Ron’s waiting arms. Draco sneered at Potter’s impudence—how dare he one-up him yet again. Looking around angrily, he suddenly noticed Ginny, looking very uneasy in the corner. Had she sent that ludicrous valentine? Draco could not believe how she had embraced him that one day, crying, and then she turned around and sent Potter a valentine when he did nothing but ignore her. At least the song she had sent him was thoroughly awkward and embarrassing for Potter.

“I don’t think Potter liked your valentine much!” he yelled at Ginny as he passed. She seemed thoroughly upset as she covered her face with her hands and ran into class. Draco felt a fleeting sense of regret as he realized that he had struck her; however, as soon as Ron Weasley pulled his wand on him, all thoughts of remorse vanished. Luckily, Potter saved Weasley from unnecessary fighting. It was a fortunate move for Weasley, for if he had started anything, Draco fully intended on hexing him to the ground.


~*~


Ginny burrowed her head into her arms as she sulked at her desk. She had entirely forgotten about that silly valentine—Tom had convinced her to send it. Harry had thought it was completely absurd—he would probably never talk to her now. And Draco… Draco probably thought something horrible of her. She was not entirely sure, but his most recent comment certainly showed that their relationship was on unsteady ground yet again. However, beyond the valentine and Draco, was the absolute worst thing ever—Harry had managed to find Tom’s diary. What if Tom told her everything? She would most certainly be expelled. She tried to reassure herself that he had not figured out how to work the diary, but she had the gut feeling that everything was about to go horribly wrong.

Over the next few weeks, she kept a careful, low-key watch on Harry and his activities. She needed to find a time to sneak into the boys dormitories without being noticed, so she could steal back the diary before Harry learned all her secrets. Finally, one Friday night the Gryffindor common room was abnormally empty, and Harry was out practicing Quidditch. Stealthily creeping up the stairs to the boys dormitories, she swiftly determined which trunk belonged to Harry. As rapidly as she could, she rummaged through his stuff, trying to find the diary without making a huge mess. However, she was not having any luck, so she resorted to throwing his stuff out of the floor as she frantically dug through his chest to find the diary. Finally, she found it, tucked between several of Harry’s textbooks. She quickly stuffed it in her pocket and fled down the stairs.

Fortunately, the common room was still empty as she reentered. She promptly ascended the stairs to the girl’s dormitories and thrust the small diary in the space between her mattress and her bed frame. She did not want to think about Tom right now—perhaps she would inquire later what he had told Harry, if anything. She hoped to Merlin that Harry had not discovered the secrets of the diary, but with her luck, Tom had probably told Harry everything. She buried her head in her hands, and collapsed onto her bed, anxious for a long, undisturbed night of sleep.

The next morning, Ginny woke up after a restless night of sleep. As much as she wanted to relax, she had not been able to escape the fear that Tom had told Harry all of her deepest secrets.

Unable to avert corresponding with Tom, she grabbed the diary from beneath her mattress and nervously flipped it open. Pausing for a moment, she quivered as she held her quill delicately over the page, fearful of what would happen if Tom had betrayed her. Slowly, she concisely wrote her question: “Tom, how much did you tell Harry Potter?”

“Ahh… Ginny… How I have missed talking to you… I have not told him anything of consequence… Perhaps I can show you…”

Ginny had a fleeting moment of comprehension as she realized that when Tom sucked her into the diary, that was when he forced her to attack students. She struggled to stop Tom from pulling her in, but he was now too powerful. Finally giving up, she fell into the inviting dark hole and the evil of the diary swallowed her up.


~*~


Draco awoke bright and early—today was the day of the Griffindor-Hufflepuff Quidditch match. While he assumed that Gryffindor would defeat the Hufflepuffs, he loved to watch Quidditch. He would just have to disregard who the scarlet-robed team was, and he would have a jolly old time. Perhaps he could pretend that Ginny was on the broomsticks instead of those other Weasleys—that could provide some entertainment.

Eating a leisurely breakfast at the Great Hall, he enjoyed a brisk conversation with Pansy, for once not bothered with her flirty antics. He found that if he distractedly nodded at everything she said, it satisfied her immensely. Too bad he had no real interest in her.

Lazily wandering out to the Quidditch pitch, Draco admired the fine weather. It was perfect weather for playing—too bad Slytherin was not playing today. He climbed up into the bleachers and sat behind Crabbe and Goyle, who were eagerly snacking on some breakfast food they had stolen from the Great Hall.

Draco idly watched as the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff teams marched onto the field. Suddenly, as the teams were about to mount their brooms, Professor McGonagall rushed onto the field with a megaphone.

“This match has been cancelled,” she said loudly though the microphone, causing a loud uproar of angry students. Shocked, Draco looked around in surprised, trying to determine what had happened. He heard speculations arising as to what could have caused the match to be cancelled, but nothing certain. He watched as McGonagall led Potter and Weasley off the field and towards the castle. Figures that they would get priority in discovering why the match was canceled, he mused to himself.

Slowly meandering back to the common room, Draco listened for hints of what had happened. The most probable truth seemed to be that another student had been attacked. Turning down a deserted hallway, Draco headed towards a secret passageway he knew that would place him closer to the hospital wing, where he was certain there would be action if another student had been attacked.

As he made his way down the passage, he was shocked when he heard the sound of footsteps approaching from ahead. He flattened himself against the wall, and stood silently as a ginger haired girl pattered by him. “Ginny?” he asked, wondering what she was doing running through here. Turning towards him, she looked at him with teary eyes.

She let out a few shuddering sobs before she spoke, “Penelope Clearwater and… and… and Hermione!” she started, sniveling terribly. “They were attacked!” she howled as tears began streaming down her face.

Looking at her in shock, Draco wondered why she was so entirely unhinged because of this attack. Certainly, he did admit that it was surprising about the attacks, but she had not acted like this following the previous attacks. Perhaps because it was the Mudblood Granger who was petrified—Potter’s friend. Ginny did fancy Potter, or so he assumed as she had done nothing to prove otherwise.

Still, he felt concerned for Ginny’s distress. He reached out to her and gave her a hug, trying to comfort her as best he could. He felt safe in the secret passageway, knowing that no student would find him there with her. He allowed himself to let down his usual guard as he soothed Ginny, who had not yet ceased her hysterical crying.

After several minutes, she seemed to have calmed down enough to talk. She looked at him, still appearing as though the slightest wrong move would maker her burst into tears again. He carefully tried to discern what the best move would be—she was obviously unstable, but clearly needed some form of support.

Suddenly, she opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it. She did this several times, giving her the appearance of a large scarlet fish. Suddenly she blurted out, “I didn’t do it!” before turning and scampering down the passage.

Baffled, Draco watched as she receded into the darkness. Of all of the strange encounters he had experienced with Ginny over the past few months that was certainly the most bizarre. He slowly turned and began retreating towards the Slytherin common room, trying to determine the significance in what Ginny had said to him.


~*~


Ginny climbed into the Gryffindor common room, where she was greeted by a solemn gathering of students, all conversing gravely about the attacks and who the heir of Slytherin was. Ginny nodded good-night to her brothers, and treaded upstairs to her bedroom. The room was empty, but she drew the curtains around her bed shut anyway. Once she was in complete privacy, she wrenched the diary from her pocket and hurled it behind her bed. She hated Tom, with every bone in her body. She hated the way he tricked her and deceived her, and she hated how he compelled her to commit actions that she did not wish to perform.

All because of her stupidity and failure to recognize Tom for what he really was, Hermione had been petrified, along with that Ravenclaw girl that Percy was so taken with. It was all her fault. She was too trusting—she had become too dependent on him. Too entranced to notice that he was what was causing all the horrors in her life. And now her ignorant actions had created turmoil for even her siblings, who she loved more than anything.

She thought briefly about Draco, who she had encountered in passing in the halls. He had tried to comfort her again, and yet, she had fled. He must think she was crazy and rude. She felt bad that all she did was run away from him these days. Feeling a hot tear slide down her face, she buried her head in her pillow, wondering how she would ever fix all the mayhem she had caused for herself.


~*~


Over the next few days, turmoil and fear grew in the school—not only had two more students been attacked, but suddenly Hagrid had been removed, and Dumbledore had reportedly stepped down by request of the governors, one of which was Draco’s father.

The day after those two had left, Draco had received a very pleased letter from his father, detailing how superb it was that Dumbledore was gone, and how Draco should take advantage of this opportunity to promote the headmaster’s faults, as well as endorse more suitable headmasters.

“I always thought Father might be the one who got rid of Dumbledore,” he told Crabbe and Goyle, regurgitating everything his father had told him in his letter. “I told you he thinks Dumbledore’s the worst headmaster the school’s ever had. Maybe we’ll get a decent headmaster now. Someone who won’t want the Chamber of Secrets closed. McGonagall won’t last long, she’s only filling in…” He felt a little repentance at his foul statements, but he was only obeying his father’s orders.

Draco tried his best to keep observe his father’s wishes; however, it became increasingly difficult given the dismal mood of the students at school. The weeks continued to pass slowly, and the students remained trepid and worried at the possibility of more attacks.

One night three days before their first exams, Professor McGonagall announced that the Mandrakes were finally be ready, and that the students would finally be unpetrified. As unfortunate as it would be to have that annoying Granger back, at least finally the mystery concerning the Chamber would be solved.

Glancing around the Great Hall, he watched as the other students cheered and yelled raucously, entirely thrilled that the whole ordeal would finally be solved. Suddenly, Ginny entered the room, looking anxious and pale, twisting her hands together nervously. She sat down next to her brother Ron and Potter, and looked as though she was about to say something. Draco frowned, and momentarily wished that the Slytherin table were closer to the Gryffindor table, so he could eavesdrop. Draco was considering finding a reason to head casually in that direction, when Percy joined the Golden Trio and Ginny, breaking up the conversation and sending Ginny fleeing out of the Great Hall.

Concerned, Draco stood abruptly and excused himself before heading out of the Great Hall, wondering where Ginny had disappeared to now. He searched all the places where he had seen her before, but to no avail. Finally he reluctantly gave up, and decided it would be best to attend to his classes.


~*~


Ginny scurried back to the Gryffindor common room after Percy had told her to go away in Great Hall. She had wanted to tell Harry the truth about the Chamber, but when Percy had come, she came to her senses and fled before she caused more damage for herself.

Falling down on her bed, she crawled to the end and rummaged through the space between the bed and the wall until she located the dusty diary. Tonight all the petrified people would be back—Tom would have failed in his sinful plot, and Ginny would be able to forget about the whole nightmare. Finally there was light in the dark tunnel which had been her tumultuous first year at Hogwarts.

Smugly, she opened the diary and quickly inked, “Tonight the petrified people will be revived, and everything will be better. You were unsuccessful in your plot,” she wrote, feeling self-satisfied that she had finally recognized Tom for what he really was. Now she could finally be free of that wretched diary. She smiled haughtily at the page as her words faded away, and Tom’s handwriting slowly replaced it.

“That’s what you think.”

Draco apathetically followed his professor to his next class. Whoever had created the rule which forced teachers to escort them everywhere was obviously not thinking straight. What difference did it make whether they all ran amuck to their classes, or whether a teacher accompanied them. Obviously, no professor had every been successful in eliminating the monster from the Chamber, so what advantage did the students have in following around teachers? Draco was utterly fed up of the whole tribulation, and thus proceeded to turn down the wrong corridor on purpose, just so he could walk to his next class in solitude. Suddenly, he heard a loud voice echoing through the corridors.

“All students to return to their House dormitories at once. All teachers return to the staff room. Immediately, please.”

He quickly glanced around the corridor he was in—it was very close to the staff room. Perhaps he would go sneak in there. However, as he was about to turn the corner to find a hidden abode where he could eavesdrop on the staffroom meeting, he caught a glimpse of several professors walking down the hallway, who would certainly notice if he slipped into the staffroom. Turning on his heel, he headed brusquely in the other direction, finally ending up in the second floor corridor where the message concerning the chamber had originally been. He nearly walked by it, not noticing the new addition when suddenly he detected something strange. Looking up, he saw a new message had been scrawled beneath the old one. “‘Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.’”

Staring at the wall in horror, he tried to discern the significance behind its words. Who had been taken into the Chamber? Had someone died? He looked around down the hallway, but there were no students or teachers in either direction. Needing to know what happened, he ran back to the staff room, but the door was securely locked and sealed with impenetrable charms. Running back to his dormitories, he hoped to Merlin that someone had some form of gossip or rumours that could possibly explain what had happened.

Finally, after an hour of anxious waiting in the common room, Professor Snape entered their common room, looking extremely grim. “The teachers do not wish me to tell you the whole story,” he started, looking severely around the room as all the Slytherins fell into silence, waiting keenly for his next words. They knew Snape would tell them everything they wanted to hear. “A student has been taken into the Chamber of Secrets itself,” he stated darkly, not seeming at all shocked or displeased by the news. “Hogwarts will be closed—it is too dangerous for students to remain here,” Snape added, barely noticing the fretful gazes shooting back and forth between the students in the common room.

“Who was taken into the Chamber?” a sixth year girl asked softly, as though she was afraid Snape would lash out at her.

“Ginny Weasley,” Snape said simply, before abruptly turning and departing from the room. Draco felt his heart drop as the name sank in—Ginny had been taken by the heir of Slytherin. His Ginny… But why? Suddenly, he was not very fond of the heir and his wicked behavior. Ginny was too pure and innocent to be taken into the Chamber—she could not die! He would not let her.

Draco moved to open the door to the common room, only to find that it had been sealed from the outside to prevent students from roaming at this time of chaos. He pushed the door as hard as he could, and then kicked it several times, but was similarly unsuccessful. Angrily, he punched the stone wall, trying to release the emotions bottled up inside. However, despite all his antics, the door to the outside remained sealed, and all he was beginning to attract curious gazes from the other students in the common room.

Defeated, Draco trudged to his room and buried himself in his bed, hoping that Ginny would somehow miraculously be all right.


~*~


Feeling cold, Ginny lay on the cool stone ground. She could hear sounds in the background—oh so many noises. They were all blending together horribly, like a huge cacophony in her head. She felt sore—and tired… As though she could not move, even if she wanted to. It felt as though she would need a thousand years of sleep to regain the energy she needed to push herself off the ground. But it was draining from her—the power and force she normally took for granted was slowly but surely emptying from her body and soul, leaving her lifeless and still on the ground. She could still hear voices—almost like yelling. The din was getting louder and louder in her head, pounding fiercely between her ears. Is this what it feels like… to die? She wondered brokenly, as her very existence seemed to be dubious. I… I don’t want to leave—she thought idly as her body became weaker. Only if I can say good-bye first—to my mum… and dad… and my brothers… Draco… But she felt like she was fading… Fading into darkness…

Suddenly, a huge wail broke her reflections, and she suddenly felt very alive again. The throbbing pain in her head remained, but she had regained feeling in her body. The floor was cold as she continued to lie still, wondering what had happened. She moaned slightly as she struggled to lift herself off the floor. She slowly rolled over and used all the strength she could muster to lift herself off the floor.

Looking around, she found herself in a dark chamber. Despite its unfamiliarity, she had a sinking feeling that she had been there before. She glanced around, letting her eyes rest upon the giant basilisk before looking at Harry—he had saved her. She felt herself tremble uncontrollable as she tried to find words to say. “Harry—oh, Harry—I tried to tell you at b-breakfast, but I c-couldn’t say it in front of Percy—it was me, Harry—but I—I s-swear I d-didn’t mean to—R-Riddle made me, he t-took me over—and—how¬ did you kill that—that thing? W-where’s Riddle? The last thing I remember is his coming out of the diary—”

Unable to control herself, she broke down and began sobbing as Harry tried to comfort her. “I’m going to be expelled!” she cried as Harry tried to help her to her feet. “I’ve looked forward to coming to Hogwarts ever since B-Bill came and n-now I’ll have to leave and—what’ll Mum and Dad say? ” she bawled. She had been so ignorant this entire year, and she had completely messed everything up.

Dismally following Harry through the dark chamber, she fearfully thought of what would happen as a result of her foolhardiness. She trailed Harry until they reached a pile of stones. Suddenly, Ron burst out and pulled Ginny through, thoroughly excited to see her. She could not take it though—they may be thrilled that she was alive, but it was her life that was about to become horrible. She barely paid attention the entire way back to the castle, and as was hardly aware as she was ushered into Professor McGonagall’s office.

“Ginny! ” she heard her mother scream just before she was squeezed tightly into her mother’s arms. She wept silently as Harry began to tell the story of how he had found out about the Chamber and everything. She felt her spirits lifting, as Harry had not yet mentioned her role, or the diary.

“What interests me most,” she heard Dumbledore start, “is how Lord Voldemort managed to enchant Ginny, when all my sources tell me he is currently hiding in the forests of Albania.” Ginny looked up wonderingly—he was not going to expel her? After all that she had done, he was not angry?

“W-what’s that?” she heard her mother say, “You-Know-Who? En-enchant Ginny? But Ginny’s not… Ginny hasn’t been… has she?” Ginny felt a sudden wave of remorse for her mother and father—for them having to find out how horrible she had been all year. This was the worse way for them to find out. She mused to herself as Harry explained the diary to her parents and Dumbledore. It was amazing how much he knew about Tom Riddle and his plan, without Ginny telling him anything.

“But Ginny,” she heard her mother begin, “What’s our Ginny got to do with—with—him?”

Ginny felt herself involuntarily quiver before she suddenly burst out, “His d-diary! I’ve b-been writing in it, and he’s been w-writing back all year—” she sobbed, feeling awful about what she was putting her parents through.

“Ginny! Haven’t I taught you anything?” she heard her father start. She felt herself begin to sob again. “What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself if you can’t see where it keeps its brain? Why didn’t you show the diary to me, or your mother? A suspicious object like that, it was clearly full of Dark Magic—”

“I d-didn’t know,” Ginny sobbed, feeling as though her world was crashing down upon her. “I found it inside one of the books Mum got me, I th-thought someone had just left it in there and forgotten about it—” Suddenly, Dumbledore interrupted by suggesting she go to the hospital wing. Glad to finally have an excuse to leave, Ginny began to rise and followed her mother out of the room, with her father in tow.

They walked her to the hospital wing, and Madam Pomfrey shrieked at her dirty appearance before changing her into a hospital gown and insisting that she take a Dreamless Sleep potion. However, the moment she laid down in bed, she fell asleep, without even needing to take a potion to assist her.


~*~


Draco awoke abruptly in the night, a strange feeling that something important had happened. He carefully walked through the common room, careful not to create any unnecessary suspicions as he tried to leave the dormitories once again. He pushed on the door, and much to his surprise, it opened. He cautiously crept down the hallways, trying to stay out of sight.

Suddenly, he saw a long cloak flutter down the hallway, along with the unmistakable long hair of his father. Curious, Draco stealthily snuck down the corridors after his father, all the while wondering what his father was aiming to accomplish. Finally, they were approaching the hallway where Professor McGonagall’s office was located. Draco climbed behind a large suit of armor and watched as his father stormed into the office.

Faintly, he could hear an argument arise from inside the office. Draco was not interested in most of it, but it seemed as though Ginny had been writing to Tom Riddle, the Heir of Slytherin, in an enchanted diary, which someone had lead to Voldemort channeling her and forcing her to do wicked deeds. Draco was slightly confused, because he did not quite see the connection between Tom Riddle and the Dark Lord—perhaps he would have to ask his father at another time.

Unexpectedly, he heard Harry Potter’s voice pipe up, “Don’t you want to know how Ginny got hold of that diary, Mr. Malfoy?” Draco stopped breathing as he strived to hear the conversation. He did not even care that Potter was in the room while he was outside snooping in the hallway. As much as he hated to admit it, he was almost used to Potter getting the upper hand on everything.

“How should I know how the stupid little girl got hold of it?” Draco heard his father say spitefully. Ginny is not stupid, Draco thought angrily to himself. She had been through a lot today—had his father no pity?

“Because you gave it to her,” he heard Potter say. Draco froze completely—did he heard Potter correctly? This entire ordeal had been the fault of his father’s? He silently sat and recalled the day at Diagon Alley—his father had been on a mission that day—he had been planning all along to use Ginny. Probably ever since he had discovered Draco with her at the Ministry. Glaring at the door to the office, Draco fumed as he tried to reason his father’s actions, but failed miserably. His father had absolutely no right to treat Ginny like that—she was pure and innocent, and he had tried to use her to rid the school of Mudbloods and put more shame on the Weasley name.

Climbing out from behind the statue, he took off towards the Hospital Wing. He needed to see Ginny, and tell him he was sorry for everything his father did. Ginny never deserved what he had done to her. This was probably the first time that he truly despised his father.

He crept into the Hospital Wing—it was completely silent and still. Madam Pomfrey was in her office, likely preparing the Mandrake remedy for the petrified people. Ginny was contently sleeping in a bed, looking like a sweet little angel. He walked over and stood next to her for a moment—for the first time in months, she seemed to be comfortable. Suddenly, he heard a noise from Madam Pomfrey’s office, and her door began to creak open. Unable to escape, he dove under Ginny’s bed and lay quietly, waiting for Madam Pomfrey to leave.

She muttered to herself as she worked on each of the petrified students—each in complete shock and confusion as they were awoken. They each left one by one, apparently headed for the Great Hall where there was reportedly a huge celebration. Finally, Madam Pomfrey had finished with the petrified students, so she walked over to Ginny and paused, making sure she was sleeping soundly. Draco held his breath, afraid to move for fear that he would alert her to his presence. After several moments, she retreated to her office for a minute before leaving the hospital wing, probably headed for the Great Hall.

Draco crept from under the bed, and gazed at Ginny as she slept. He still could not believe the utter insolence of his father. He kneeled beside Ginny and brushed his hand across her face, softly stroking her as though he were comforting her. She did not stir. He tilted his head and looked at her face, dotted with hundreds of tiny freckles. Her breathing was slow and even as she peacefully slept.

She was the one who had always believed in the good in himself—and she had encouraged him to live his own life rather than follow his father. Sighing, Draco stared at Ginny a moment longer, wondering how someone he was supposed to hate could be so special to him.

Reaching towards her ginger hair, he lightly brushed it out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. Then, as gently as he could, he softly kissed her forehead—she was the truth in his life. She had never led him astray, or punished those he was close to out of spite. That was his father. Ginny was something else—she was naïve and chaste—and from now on, he knew…

Silently rising, he slowly left the hospital wing and headed towards the Great Hall party, where he could hear boisterous yelling and wild cheers, celebrating the defeat of the Heir of Slytherin.


~*~


As the hospital door closed after Draco, Ginny smiled and touched her forehead tenderly where his lips had touched her. After everything, he still cared about her. She mildly regretted that she was pretending to be asleep as he was next to her—but now she knew how he felt. Underneath the harshness and fierce Slytherin image, he still was that young boy she had met at the Ministry so many years ago.

Stretching her arms above her head, she rolled over and snuggled underneath the covers, elated visions filling her mind as she fell back into a deep sleep, dreaming of Draco.


~*~


The last few weeks of school passed quickly, as there were no final exams. Draco’s father had been fired as school governor, which made Draco’s home situation much more difficult. His father was once again angry and malicious, and Draco oftentimes found that the wrath of his father was reflected in his own behavior. However, Ginny was fully joyous again. He still watched her bounding around in the halls, wondering what she thought of him.

He got his answer the day before they left Hogwarts, when she somehow managed to corner him in an empty corridor. “Draco,” she started nervously, “I’m sorry about everything that happened this year.”

He gave her a genuine smile and responded, “it’s okay—it was a rough year. I understand…” He said as her trademark smile curled onto her face.

“Friends?” She asked, putting out her hand in the same way he had once offered his hand to her in Diagon Alley when they were six and seven-years old.

He smiled back and grabbed her hand, shaking it playfully. “Friends,” he said, with a smile on his face, before he pulled her into a huge hug.


A/N: Third year now!! Yay!

Ginny smiled as she looked around the Burrow. As great as Hogwarts was, there was nothing that compared to the home where she had grown up. She loved waking up in her own bed to the smell of her mother’s cooking and the sounds of explosions from Fred and George’s rooms.

As she wandered down the hallway, she ran her hand along the wall, fondly remembering her childhood at the burrow. She felt so much older now, after having been at Hogwarts for a year, completely separated from everyone—talking to Tom...

Suddenly, she was distracted by her brother Ron, yelling into the fellytone her father had brought home from work. It was a strange Muggle gadget—she was not quite sure of its purpose.

“HELLO? HELLO? CAN YOU HEAR ME? I—WANT—TO—TALK—TO—HARRY-POTTER!” her brother yelled into the device. Ginny shook her head and started laughing at Ron’s strange behavior. If that was how that fellytone was supposed to be used, then she had been giving Muggles a little too much credit for their famed inventions.

The weeks passed by quickly as she wasted the days away sleeping, eating, trying to sneak out her brothers’ racing brooms, writing to Draco, and halfheartedly doing her summer assignments. However, the best news came several weeks into summer vacation, when her father unexpectedly won seven hundred Galleons from the Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw.

Her parents had decided to use most of it on a trip to Egypt to visit her brother Bill; however Ginny knew they would be finally buying her some new robes and supplies that were not hand-me-downs from her six brothers.

The rest of the summer passed in a blur of happiness, and she regained the freedom that she had longed for during her traumatic first year at Hogwarts. Through rushed secretive letters, she managed to correspond with Draco, but soon enough it was time for school to start.


~*~


Summer was turning out to be quite miserable at the Malfoy Manor. Getting sacked as a school governor and having the set-up concerning Ginny and the diary revealed certainly did not improve Lucius’ mood. Draco idly spent his time as far away from his father as possible, which tended to be one hundred feet into the air on his broomstick.

As the summer continued to progress, Draco found little to do besides practice Quidditch and attend to his summer homework, which was extremely tedious and boring. He deeply wished that he could see Ginny, or at least write to her. Or write to anyone, even Crabbe or Goyle—he had spent his summer in solitude with no one to talk to, and it was getting to the point that talking to a wall would be more interesting that his current situation. There was no point in going to the Ministry, since he already knew Ginny would not be there. Halfway through summer, he was idly reading the Daily Prophet where he came across a picture of Ginny, accompanied by her family in Egypt. Taking in her cheery face, he smiled at it for a moment, but his smile was quickly replaced by a frown. She was surrounded by her many brothers, many of which hated him—but that was alright, because he did not fancy them either. At least Ginny was no longer upset with him, because that was all that really mattered.

Ginny had written to tell him that she was going to Egypt, but they had not corresponded since she left. It was too difficult, especially since her family’s owl was very unreliable, and her family would notice if his owl was bringing her letters. Letter writing was going to be a bit difficult from now on—particularly because her parents were quite wary of Lucius, and would most likely be watching for Malfoy owls.

Draco sighed. Aside from thinking about Ginny, the most interesting thing that had happened all summer had been the break-out from Azkaban. Apparently, a high-security inmate named Sirius Black had somehow escaped from Azkaban. Draco knew that Black had somehow been involved with the death of the Potters, but that was about it. Draco wondered how it was even possible that the only person who had ever broken out from Azkaban was somehow related to Harry Potter, thus highlighting Potter in his never-ending spotlight of fame. Draco was looking forward to school starting immensely—not to see that dratted Potter again, but so he could escape the monotony of summer and see Ginny’s smiling face again.


~*~


Ginny smiled fondly as she laid her clothes neatly into her trunk. For once, she had enjoyed a splendid evening at the Leaky Cauldron with her family, Hermione and Harry, and now it was time to head to Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters. She had been a little timid around Harry, as he had saved her life last year, and she knew her brothers had taken her uncharacteristic shyness the wrong way, but she did not really care anymore.

Her family piled into special cars loaned by the Ministry, a new perk her father had managed to wrangle up this year. It was nice being about to sit and enjoy the ride through Muggle London to get the train, rather than Floo-ing to the nearest fireplace and trekking to Kings Cross Station.

Soon enough, Ginny was waving good-bye to her parents as the train slowed began to pull away from the station. She had not yet seen Draco, but it was only a matter of time before she could share her joyous memories of summer with him.

Following Harry, Hermione and Ron into a compartment, she planned to spend most of the train ride hanging out with them. However, as soon as they had settled down, Harry muttered something to Ron and Hermione.

“Go away, Ginny,” Ron said rudely. Taken aback, Ginny glared at her brother for a moment.

“Oh, that’s nice,” she said bitterly, and stalked out of the compartment. Looking up and down the corridor, she was not sure where to go, so she began to wander the corridors.


~*~


Stretching his arms, Draco yawned obnoxiously in the middle of Pansy’s long discussion of how to wear her hair on the first day of classes. She had insisted on sitting with him, probably because she enjoyed the attention from Crabbe and Goyle, who were staring at the Pumpkin Pasty she was eating with undying fascination. Draco, on the other hand, was less than thrilled by her presence, he had places to be and people to torment.

Halfway through Pansy’s story of how her parents had bought her a magnificent diamond necklace because they had missed her so much at school, Draco abruptly stood up. “I’m going to take a walk,” he said brusquely as he turned and left the room. Pansy seemed unaffected, and turned to Blaise Zabini across the cabin and began her story from the beginning.

A moment after leaving the cabin, Crabbe and Goyle joined him in the hallway, and they all began to walk down the hall. After patrolling nearly the entire train, he finally found Potter. He confidently pulled open their door.

“Well, look who it is,” he drawled out, looking over their room, noting that Ginny was no where to be found, “Potty and the Weasel.” He heard Crabbe and Goyle sniggering behind him. Just seeing Potter and his ridiculous friends again made him want to provoke them somehow. A summer alone with his anger bottled up inside him made him inch to hit something.

“I heard your father finally got his hands on some gold this summer, Weasley, did your mother die of shock?” He said snidely, as he hoped to god that Ginny was not hidden somewhere in the cabin. Ron stood up angrily, and Draco felt some of his anger release. Suddenly, he heard a snort come from beneath a lump on the bench. “Who’s that?” he asked, stepping backwards, afraid of who it might be.

“New teacher,” said Potter, a smug grin on his face, “What were you saying, Malfoy?” Draco glared at Potter and his measely friends a moment longer. As long as the lump was not Ginny, he was safe – though fighting a weasel in front of a new teacher was also not his cup of tea.

“C’mon,” he mumbled to his cronies as he turned and left the room, disappointedly heading back towards Pansy and the cabin of annoying stories. Suddenly, a flash of red hair bounced into his field of view. Eager to see Ginny, he pulled some candy and treats out of his pockets and gave them to Crabbe and Goyle. “I’ll meet you back in the cabin,” he said, watching as they rushed away without a second glance.

Walking up behind her, he carefully noted that they were alone in the corridor before discreetly tapping her on the shoulder. “Hello, Ginny,” he said in a hushed voice as she turned to face him.

“Hi!” she exclaimed excitedly before giving him a hug that he could only return halfway, for fear that some Gryffindor might come out into the hallway, or worse, a Slytherin. She seemed a bit taken aback by his lack of affection, but it was nothing to worry about. Surely she understood the limitations of the public part of their friendship now that they were back at Hogwarts.

“So how was Egypt?” he asked her quietly.

“It was great!” she said happily, as she broke into a discussion of all the tombs and pyramids and amazing sights she had seen. He could feel a smile rising to his face at her pure joy and excitement. However, he heard a door open abruptly behind him and footsteps come out into the hall. Ginny was looking behind him with an uncertain expression on her face, not knowing how to handle someone finding the two of them together. He knew how to handle it though.

“I told you to stay out of my way, Weasley,” he said arrogantly, lightly pushing her aside and striding off down the hallway, trying to ignore the hurt expression that had found its way onto her face. Certainly she had to understand why he had just done that.

Suddenly, the train slowed to a stop and the lights went out. Draco looked around, groping the walls as he tried to find a way back to his cabin. He ran into a small moving lump, which upon further investigation turned out to be Ginny. “Hey Ginny, I’m sorry,” he whispered to her, trying to envelop her into a hug, but he felt her squirm out of his grasp and bang into the wall, before running down the hallway away from him. A cool breeze swept down the train, and a feeling of intense terror was rising inside of him as everything became unbearably cold. Uncertain of what to do, he opened a door to a random cabin, trembling, and went inside.

~*~

Running as fast as she could in the dark with no sense of direction, Ginny tried to find a cabin with people she knew. “Ron?” she asked, opening a random door, only to receive negative responses. So many emotions were running through her – she had been so happy for a moment to finally be with Draco, but then he had shunted her as soon as another person had come into view. But then, the lights had gone out and he had held her, and it was so… perfect. But she could not deal with him only being a friend half the time – it just would not work.

Suddenly, the hallways were feeling very cold. Opening a door, she tried to go inside but promptly tripped over something and fell on the floor.

“Who’s that?” said a familiar sounding female voice.

“Who’s that?” Ginny asked, feeling around the room trying to find a bench.

“Ginny?”

“Hermione?” she asked, finally finding a bench. “I was looking for Ron –”

“Come in and sit down –” Ginny heard Hermione said as she grabbed her arm and pulled her across the cabin.

Ginny put her hand down expecting to find a bench, but found a warm body instead, “Not hear!” she heard Harry say. “I’m here.” Ginny winced and quickly pulled back her hand. She tried to move across the cabin to her original spot, tripping on people as she went.

“Ouch!” she heard someone that sounded Neville say.

“Quiet!” said an unrecognizable voice suddenly. Ginny froze where she was momentarily, before quickly finding a bench to sit on.

A dim light filled the compartment, and there was a strange man with light brown hair wearing shabby robes holding a wand. “Stay where you are,” the man said hoarsely as he walked towards the cabin door. Suddenly, the door began to slide open.

Ginny gazed in shock as a cloaked figure filled the doorway, and the room became cold. She felt cold all over – deep underneath her skin. She felt like her entire body had turned to ice, almost as though she had been dunked inside a giant pool and then thrown into a glacier to die. There was a rushing noise, and she started to hear voices in her head. The soft voice of Tom Riddle, telling her everything would be okay – but she felt as though she would never be happy again. She heard Tom laughing, wickedly. She shivered uncontrollably.

Suddenly, everything stopped, and the coldness lifted. Ginny breathed in deeply, and shuddered as she let it out. What was that cloaked figure, she wondered to herself. She tried to push her dark thoughts of Tom out of her head, but they were just replaced by Draco. Draco and his on-again off-again friendship. Ginny sighed. The effort she put into trying to befriend Draco would probably never be reciprocated. Perhaps it was just better to ignore him.

A/N ~ Hmmm… I haven’t written in a long while, yah? I think it was because it’s too hard to write about D/G in the third book – because they’re too young (imo) for a lot of relationshippy stuff – but I can’t have them keep fighting forever, so I just stopped writing. So this chappie was just some fights and such, and then I figure I’ll finish up the 3rd book in another chapter or so, so I can move onto more interesting stuff. If I ever want to, can go back and elaborate, or perhaps add some sort of subplot. I have no idea anymore.