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!
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!
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