When I first wrote this chapter, I'd forgotten that Miss Chang was older than Harry and co. and included her. Ack! But to compensate I made her a sort of teacher's assistant, so she's an employee instead of a student. Er, enjoy!
Draco sat staring across the great hall at the Gryffindor table. The first week of school had passed rather uneventfully, but this week Quidditch practice would begin. The new Slytherin captain, Lewis Halford, had hinted rather forcefully that perhaps there was a need to hold try-outs for all positions.
"Just in case," He'd sneered at Malfoy. Just in case what? He thought angrily. Just in case Potter makes a fool of me again? He scowled, his gaze snapping down to his barely touched breakfast. Not this time, not this year, he thought fiercely. I'm going to get that snitch every game!
He stabbed his fork into his sausages, over and over, until they were nothing more than fragments of meat. Wasn't it a pity he couldn't do that to Potter's face? He got up and grabbed his book bag.
"Let's go!" he snapped to Crabbe and Goyle, who had been about to help themselves to thirds. They dutifully abandoned their plates and rushed to flank him, almost dropping their own bags in the process. But Draco wasn't paying attention; he was already headed for his first class, Potions, his favorite subject with his favorite professor. He had always liked Snape, but in the last year he'd begun to feel a strange kinship with him. There were moments when, as they'd talked over the semesters, he'd found the Potions Master looking at him with a strange sort of understanding in his eyes. The thing was he could never recall afterwards what it was he and the professor had been discussing at those times. And he was afraid that maybe he'd let slip some of his more secret thoughts.
Still, Snape had never commented on anything. And what was the worst that could happen? It wasn't like the professor would go around spreading any rumors. Draco wasn't sure why he was thinking about this, so he shook himself mentally and tried to remember all the ingredients needed for the Freezing Fusion. Water, powdered sea slug, two phoenix feathers, what else?
He was still absently thinking as he took his seat in the Potions chamber, when he heard a shout of laughter near him. He looked over irritably to see Weasley and Potter talking cheerily to Finnigan and Thomas about their summer, specifically their Quidditch trials. Draco scowled as he heard Weasley's grating voice.
"So Harry starts flying around above the lot of us looking for the snitch. Mind you, there were about twenty judges or whatever, and they were all watching us like hawks. Their heads were following everything we did, and I thought I was going to fall off my broom trying to keep from laughing! But Harry's whizzing and circling us like a billywig, it was hilarious! Well then-"
Then Precious Potter caught the bloody thing, and then they probably told him he was their new seeker for life, and then they promised him thousands of galleons, blah, blah, blah! Draco burned with suppressed rage and jealousy. No one had called him. No one was interested in a seeker who kept losing matches. It wasn't as if he was the sole reason Slytherin House hadn't won either the quidditch or the House cup for six years running. But he never failed to garner a great deal of irritability from his housemates, though they might not express it to his face. And here Weasley was talking about these trials as if they were funny, not important in the least. Well, laugh all you want Weasley, I'll bet they pass you over for Potter. I'll bet you were invited just to please Potter the Great. I'll bet they have no intention of offering you any position above towel boy. And I hope they do!
The bell rang, and Snape strode swiftly in. His presence had the effect of silencing the class immediately. By the time Snape reached his desk, everyone was seated and ready for their lessons. Draco smirked. Snape commanded respect from every student he taught. Failure to do so carried dire consequences. And whether the students liked him or hated him, they never crossed him if they could help it. Without looking at any of them, Snape sat behind his desk and called roll in his usual sharp fashion. Draco took special pleasure in hearing Neville Longbottom squeak out his reply. Even after all these years, Longbottom was still terrified of the Potions Master. Lovely!
For some inexplicable reason, his father's face suddenly loomed before Draco's mind. Draco stiffened, suddenly hearing his father's voice in his mind.
"Sit up straight boy, you're embarrassing me. Your grades are deplorable; you disgrace the name of Malfoy! How do you expect to get along in this world if you can't even play a simple game of Quidditch without losing! Those Mudbloods humiliate you day in and day out, how do you think that makes me look?"
He felt the familiar tightness in his face, the icy pain in his stomach, the bitter taste of bile in his mouth. Glancing sideways, he felt a vicious stab of pleasure as he saw Neville's pale face screw up in fear of the Potions Master. Insufferable fool! If he couldn't manage to make a simple sleeping draught by himself, then he deserved much worse than teasing and name calling. Why hadn't the fat ignoramus been expelled yet?
Suddenly, the dungeon room's door opened. Snape glared at the intrusion and Draco turned irritably towards the door himself. A young woman with flaming red hair entered slowly, her expression guarded.
"Ginny?" Draco heard Ron whisper in surprise.
"What is it, Miss Weasley?" Snape barked.
Ginny stopped, a tiny line forming suddenly between her brows. "I'm sorry Professor, but I was told to come here for some of your Soothing Sluice. Professor Sprout needs a bit."
Draco was surprised, but at what? The firmness of her voice, for one thing. Ginny had always been a very shy, quiet girl, especially around Potter. He could count the number of times he'd heard her speak audibly on one hand. But here she was, staring determinedly at Snape, standing unusually straight as she did so. For the first time, Draco became aware of the gracefulness of her form. She was growing as tall and slender as a willow. He was also surprised to see that her freckles had faded a great deal, leaving only a smattering of them across her cheeks. Her gaze seemed to have gained a steady strength, and she bore little resemblance to the easily hurt girl he remembered from last term. The change in her was obvious, though he'd only now seen it. He hadn't noticed her all the previous week, and now he couldn't understand how he could have missed her.
"Malfoy," Snape growled, "the Sluice is in my store room, along with some empty bottles. Pour out a one ounce measure for Miss Weasley and send her on her way!"
Draco stared at the Potions Master. Why him? Why not make Crabbe or Goyle do it? Because they'd mess it up and would probably smash half the storeroom in the process. Still, Draco was irritated. He got up and headed for the door, feeling the tightness in his face increase. He entered and began looking over the shelves. None of the bottles were labeled, but Draco knew their contents well. On nights when he couldn't sleep, which had been a lot last term, he'd often come down to the chamber to help Professor Snape with his work. The opportunity to relax and just talk with someone had more than made up for the work he'd sometimes had to do: servants work, like cataloging ingredients or rearranging potion bottles, as Snape would explain what they were, what they could be used for, and what was in them. He'd actually enjoyed those times. But now he was to pour out a measure of liquid for the Weasley girl and give it to her, like a bloody House Elf!
He chose a small, bullet shaped bottle and was grabbing the Soothing Sluice when the storeroom door banged open, making him start.
Ginny Weasley strode in and banged the door closed again. Draco stared. What on earth was she doing?
Ginny didn't look at him. She kept her hand on the door and stared down at the floor, her face crimson. After a moment, she closed her eyes and covered them with her other hand.
"What are you doing?" Draco snapped, causing her to whirl around and clamp her hands over her mouth in fright. She had forgotten he was in there.
She tore her hands away from her mouth a moment later; her face going even redder than before, if that was possible. Almost matching her hair, Draco thought. He felt a rush of fresh irritation, and turned to grab a small funnel. "I would have brought this to you, no need to chase me in here!"
"I didn't chase you in here, Malfoy!" she snapped back. "I....thought I'd help you!"
"Help me?" he laughed. "Think I don't have brain enough to pour, or what?"
"Well that's debatable, now isn't it?" Ginny smiled sardonically.
Draco's hand froze on the jar of Sluice. "What did you say?"
Ginny suppressed the mad grin that wanted to erupt on her face, and instead clasped her hands behind her. "Nothing."
"Be careful Weasley." Draco glared at her. "You don't want to go angering the wrong people now, do you?"
Ginny's face tilted up until she looked him directly in the eyes. "Is that a threat?"
"Think of it as a warning." Draco smiled coldly.
"Ooh, a warning!" She returned his smile with three times his frost. "And what will you do, Malfoy?" She suddenly hunched slightly and affected a baby's lisp "'Dear Daddy, Ginny Weasley is being so mean to me. Get her!'"
"Shut up!" Draco hissed. His hands began to shake.
"Oh, I'm sorry, did that piss you off?" Ginny straightened up and glared at him fiercely. "I'm not afraid of you, Malfoy, or your tantrums or threats! If you're looking to bully and call someone names, why not try those who deserve it. How about your dear friends Crabbe and Goyle, since their brains seem to have gone on permanent holiday?"
Draco's hands were clenched around the bottles so tightly they went numb. "You...little...tart! How...dare..."
The door banged open once again, and Snape strode in. The rest of the class was half out of their seats, trying to look inside. Ron looked particularly angry.
The professor's eyes swept over the both of them, taking in every detail. "What is taking so long?"
Not removing her glare from Draco's face, Ginny backed away a step and crossed her arms. "Sorry professor, I distracted Mr. Malfoy. He was just about to pour the Sluice."
Snape's icy gaze pinned Draco, who couldn't think of anything to say in response. Ginny was covering herself, really. But she was also covering him. Turning sharply, he placed the small funnel onto the bullet shaped jar and poured.
"That's enough," Snape growled. Draco stopped pouring abruptly, spilling a little of the Sluice on his hand. It felt cool on his hot skin, and he had the mad urge to take a big swig out of the bottle. He was so enraged he couldn't seem to think straight.
Turning, he handed the bottle to Ginny, taking care not to touch any part of her hand. Ginny took the bottle without comment and strode out of the room, pausing only to quickly thank Snape before she disappeared from view. Draco saw Ron open his mouth and gesture to her, but a moment later the dungeon door opened and banged closed, leaving Ron wide eyed and open mouthed. Harry placed a hand on Ron's shoulder, settling him.
"Wash the equipment, and then resume your seat please," the Professor snapped. Draco nodded, and Snape walked out, banging the door behind him.
Once he was alone, Draco flung the funnel into the sink and gripped its edge tightly, leaning forward. He had managed to get his breathing under control, but his mind was still whirling. That little bitch! How dare she talk to me like some commoner! Her words echoed like a trumpet call in his mind: "Dear Daddy..."
So what if she was right in what she'd guessed? Anyone with intelligence feared the Malfoy name. His father could put the fear of God into her whole worthless family! Lucius Malfoy could make anyone sorry they'd ever crossed him.
He turned on the water, his hands still shaking. He could still see her eyes. They'd burned like fire with her anger. What right had she to be angry? She'd started this! She'd insulted him, his friends, and his family!
Well, he could understand about his friends...
He did not run to his father every time he had a problem. If she only knew, if she could only see how trapped he was. Draco felt sick. His head was spinning and his stomach was queasy in the wake of his flagging rage. He splashed some cold water on his face, then washed the funnel and put it away. He pressed his back against the sink, feeling the edge cut into his spine. The pain cleared his head somewhat, and he took a deep breath.
The little strumpet would pay for her abuse of him. He just had to think of a way. And he would. He was a Malfoy, after all!
***********
October came, and the Halloween feast was an event everyone was looking forward to. Ginny smiled as she and Susan sat by the lake carving pumpkins for the windows of their respective dorms. They had newspapers spread out about them, piled high with pumpkin goo and seeds. Ginny thought about keeping some, to plant a small pumpkin patch at home. She'd owl her mother and see if it was ok.
"Oh Ginny, you're nose is so red!" Susan laughed, tossing some pumpkin goo at her. Ginny laughed. "Hey!"
"I'm happy to see you smile," Susan added. "You've been rather gloomy this week, and you haven't spoken of it."
Typical Susan, Ginny thought wryly, subtle as a thunder storm.
"I'm sorry," Ginny said softly after a moment. "I've had a lot to think about lately. My classes are harder than I had anticipated, and...."
Susan nodded in understanding and decided to say out loud what they both knew.
"And Harry has finally landed the lovely Cho Chang."
Ginny looked up at her friend, her eyes enormous with emotion, and nodded. There were no tears, however. And Ginny seemed, more than anything else, resigned. Susan felt frustration and anger at both Ginny and Harry. Things shouldn't have happened this way, but by some ironic twist of fate, they had. Ginny's love had been there first for Harry and the thick skulled twit had chosen to ignore it. And Ginny! Ginny had chosen to be afraid and live on hope rather than take the initiative and find out what she didn't want to know. Now her pain was deeper and more profound than if she'd revealed her feelings to Harry long before. So many years, wasted! True love tossed aside like garbage. Susan exhaled impatiently. She had a very real desire to knock them both about with a Bludger!
"You're thinking rather loudly," Ginny's voice cut through her reverie. Susan started, and then smiled.
"Sorry, just considering things," she said lightly.
"Considering a certain red headed idiot, perhaps?" Ginny smiled and looked at her friend, an almost playful note in her voice. Susan shook her head.
"It's just that I feel badly for you, and angry about this whole thing! It shouldn't have happened this way, you know. It didn't have to."
"No one is more aware of that than me, Susan," Ginny replied gravely. "But...it worked out for the best. Harry has loved Cho for a long time and he finally found the courage to tell her and win her. I know you think that might have been me, but I don't think so. Harry followed his heart and it led him to her."
Susan wanted to argue, but Ginny's logic was sound. If only logic and emotion weren't two different things, she thought, I might believe this isn't affecting you at all.
"If you believe you made the right choice, than I do too," she finally said. Ginny smiled gratefully.
"Thank you, Susan. That means the world to me."
"Now," Susan picked up her pumpkin again and continued scraping out its insides. "Shall we make them evil or funny?"
"Well if you want an evil one, just carve Malfoy's face on it!" Ginny replied mischievously. Susan laughed heartily.
"That'll scare everyone!"
They both laughed at that and began carving in earnest, deciding on funny faces. They chatted about small things, simply enjoying each other's company and the chill wind that blew across the water, despite the bright sunshine. Neither of them noticed the figure that stood behind a nearby tree. Still for a moment, listening to their chatter, it stealthily moved away towards the castle.
Draco sat staring across the great hall at the Gryffindor table. The first week of school had passed rather uneventfully, but this week Quidditch practice would begin. The new Slytherin captain, Lewis Halford, had hinted rather forcefully that perhaps there was a need to hold try-outs for all positions.
"Just in case," He'd sneered at Malfoy. Just in case what? He thought angrily. Just in case Potter makes a fool of me again? He scowled, his gaze snapping down to his barely touched breakfast. Not this time, not this year, he thought fiercely. I'm going to get that snitch every game!
He stabbed his fork into his sausages, over and over, until they were nothing more than fragments of meat. Wasn't it a pity he couldn't do that to Potter's face? He got up and grabbed his book bag.
"Let's go!" he snapped to Crabbe and Goyle, who had been about to help themselves to thirds. They dutifully abandoned their plates and rushed to flank him, almost dropping their own bags in the process. But Draco wasn't paying attention; he was already headed for his first class, Potions, his favorite subject with his favorite professor. He had always liked Snape, but in the last year he'd begun to feel a strange kinship with him. There were moments when, as they'd talked over the semesters, he'd found the Potions Master looking at him with a strange sort of understanding in his eyes. The thing was he could never recall afterwards what it was he and the professor had been discussing at those times. And he was afraid that maybe he'd let slip some of his more secret thoughts.
Still, Snape had never commented on anything. And what was the worst that could happen? It wasn't like the professor would go around spreading any rumors. Draco wasn't sure why he was thinking about this, so he shook himself mentally and tried to remember all the ingredients needed for the Freezing Fusion. Water, powdered sea slug, two phoenix feathers, what else?
He was still absently thinking as he took his seat in the Potions chamber, when he heard a shout of laughter near him. He looked over irritably to see Weasley and Potter talking cheerily to Finnigan and Thomas about their summer, specifically their Quidditch trials. Draco scowled as he heard Weasley's grating voice.
"So Harry starts flying around above the lot of us looking for the snitch. Mind you, there were about twenty judges or whatever, and they were all watching us like hawks. Their heads were following everything we did, and I thought I was going to fall off my broom trying to keep from laughing! But Harry's whizzing and circling us like a billywig, it was hilarious! Well then-"
Then Precious Potter caught the bloody thing, and then they probably told him he was their new seeker for life, and then they promised him thousands of galleons, blah, blah, blah! Draco burned with suppressed rage and jealousy. No one had called him. No one was interested in a seeker who kept losing matches. It wasn't as if he was the sole reason Slytherin House hadn't won either the quidditch or the House cup for six years running. But he never failed to garner a great deal of irritability from his housemates, though they might not express it to his face. And here Weasley was talking about these trials as if they were funny, not important in the least. Well, laugh all you want Weasley, I'll bet they pass you over for Potter. I'll bet you were invited just to please Potter the Great. I'll bet they have no intention of offering you any position above towel boy. And I hope they do!
The bell rang, and Snape strode swiftly in. His presence had the effect of silencing the class immediately. By the time Snape reached his desk, everyone was seated and ready for their lessons. Draco smirked. Snape commanded respect from every student he taught. Failure to do so carried dire consequences. And whether the students liked him or hated him, they never crossed him if they could help it. Without looking at any of them, Snape sat behind his desk and called roll in his usual sharp fashion. Draco took special pleasure in hearing Neville Longbottom squeak out his reply. Even after all these years, Longbottom was still terrified of the Potions Master. Lovely!
For some inexplicable reason, his father's face suddenly loomed before Draco's mind. Draco stiffened, suddenly hearing his father's voice in his mind.
"Sit up straight boy, you're embarrassing me. Your grades are deplorable; you disgrace the name of Malfoy! How do you expect to get along in this world if you can't even play a simple game of Quidditch without losing! Those Mudbloods humiliate you day in and day out, how do you think that makes me look?"
He felt the familiar tightness in his face, the icy pain in his stomach, the bitter taste of bile in his mouth. Glancing sideways, he felt a vicious stab of pleasure as he saw Neville's pale face screw up in fear of the Potions Master. Insufferable fool! If he couldn't manage to make a simple sleeping draught by himself, then he deserved much worse than teasing and name calling. Why hadn't the fat ignoramus been expelled yet?
Suddenly, the dungeon room's door opened. Snape glared at the intrusion and Draco turned irritably towards the door himself. A young woman with flaming red hair entered slowly, her expression guarded.
"Ginny?" Draco heard Ron whisper in surprise.
"What is it, Miss Weasley?" Snape barked.
Ginny stopped, a tiny line forming suddenly between her brows. "I'm sorry Professor, but I was told to come here for some of your Soothing Sluice. Professor Sprout needs a bit."
Draco was surprised, but at what? The firmness of her voice, for one thing. Ginny had always been a very shy, quiet girl, especially around Potter. He could count the number of times he'd heard her speak audibly on one hand. But here she was, staring determinedly at Snape, standing unusually straight as she did so. For the first time, Draco became aware of the gracefulness of her form. She was growing as tall and slender as a willow. He was also surprised to see that her freckles had faded a great deal, leaving only a smattering of them across her cheeks. Her gaze seemed to have gained a steady strength, and she bore little resemblance to the easily hurt girl he remembered from last term. The change in her was obvious, though he'd only now seen it. He hadn't noticed her all the previous week, and now he couldn't understand how he could have missed her.
"Malfoy," Snape growled, "the Sluice is in my store room, along with some empty bottles. Pour out a one ounce measure for Miss Weasley and send her on her way!"
Draco stared at the Potions Master. Why him? Why not make Crabbe or Goyle do it? Because they'd mess it up and would probably smash half the storeroom in the process. Still, Draco was irritated. He got up and headed for the door, feeling the tightness in his face increase. He entered and began looking over the shelves. None of the bottles were labeled, but Draco knew their contents well. On nights when he couldn't sleep, which had been a lot last term, he'd often come down to the chamber to help Professor Snape with his work. The opportunity to relax and just talk with someone had more than made up for the work he'd sometimes had to do: servants work, like cataloging ingredients or rearranging potion bottles, as Snape would explain what they were, what they could be used for, and what was in them. He'd actually enjoyed those times. But now he was to pour out a measure of liquid for the Weasley girl and give it to her, like a bloody House Elf!
He chose a small, bullet shaped bottle and was grabbing the Soothing Sluice when the storeroom door banged open, making him start.
Ginny Weasley strode in and banged the door closed again. Draco stared. What on earth was she doing?
Ginny didn't look at him. She kept her hand on the door and stared down at the floor, her face crimson. After a moment, she closed her eyes and covered them with her other hand.
"What are you doing?" Draco snapped, causing her to whirl around and clamp her hands over her mouth in fright. She had forgotten he was in there.
She tore her hands away from her mouth a moment later; her face going even redder than before, if that was possible. Almost matching her hair, Draco thought. He felt a rush of fresh irritation, and turned to grab a small funnel. "I would have brought this to you, no need to chase me in here!"
"I didn't chase you in here, Malfoy!" she snapped back. "I....thought I'd help you!"
"Help me?" he laughed. "Think I don't have brain enough to pour, or what?"
"Well that's debatable, now isn't it?" Ginny smiled sardonically.
Draco's hand froze on the jar of Sluice. "What did you say?"
Ginny suppressed the mad grin that wanted to erupt on her face, and instead clasped her hands behind her. "Nothing."
"Be careful Weasley." Draco glared at her. "You don't want to go angering the wrong people now, do you?"
Ginny's face tilted up until she looked him directly in the eyes. "Is that a threat?"
"Think of it as a warning." Draco smiled coldly.
"Ooh, a warning!" She returned his smile with three times his frost. "And what will you do, Malfoy?" She suddenly hunched slightly and affected a baby's lisp "'Dear Daddy, Ginny Weasley is being so mean to me. Get her!'"
"Shut up!" Draco hissed. His hands began to shake.
"Oh, I'm sorry, did that piss you off?" Ginny straightened up and glared at him fiercely. "I'm not afraid of you, Malfoy, or your tantrums or threats! If you're looking to bully and call someone names, why not try those who deserve it. How about your dear friends Crabbe and Goyle, since their brains seem to have gone on permanent holiday?"
Draco's hands were clenched around the bottles so tightly they went numb. "You...little...tart! How...dare..."
The door banged open once again, and Snape strode in. The rest of the class was half out of their seats, trying to look inside. Ron looked particularly angry.
The professor's eyes swept over the both of them, taking in every detail. "What is taking so long?"
Not removing her glare from Draco's face, Ginny backed away a step and crossed her arms. "Sorry professor, I distracted Mr. Malfoy. He was just about to pour the Sluice."
Snape's icy gaze pinned Draco, who couldn't think of anything to say in response. Ginny was covering herself, really. But she was also covering him. Turning sharply, he placed the small funnel onto the bullet shaped jar and poured.
"That's enough," Snape growled. Draco stopped pouring abruptly, spilling a little of the Sluice on his hand. It felt cool on his hot skin, and he had the mad urge to take a big swig out of the bottle. He was so enraged he couldn't seem to think straight.
Turning, he handed the bottle to Ginny, taking care not to touch any part of her hand. Ginny took the bottle without comment and strode out of the room, pausing only to quickly thank Snape before she disappeared from view. Draco saw Ron open his mouth and gesture to her, but a moment later the dungeon door opened and banged closed, leaving Ron wide eyed and open mouthed. Harry placed a hand on Ron's shoulder, settling him.
"Wash the equipment, and then resume your seat please," the Professor snapped. Draco nodded, and Snape walked out, banging the door behind him.
Once he was alone, Draco flung the funnel into the sink and gripped its edge tightly, leaning forward. He had managed to get his breathing under control, but his mind was still whirling. That little bitch! How dare she talk to me like some commoner! Her words echoed like a trumpet call in his mind: "Dear Daddy..."
So what if she was right in what she'd guessed? Anyone with intelligence feared the Malfoy name. His father could put the fear of God into her whole worthless family! Lucius Malfoy could make anyone sorry they'd ever crossed him.
He turned on the water, his hands still shaking. He could still see her eyes. They'd burned like fire with her anger. What right had she to be angry? She'd started this! She'd insulted him, his friends, and his family!
Well, he could understand about his friends...
He did not run to his father every time he had a problem. If she only knew, if she could only see how trapped he was. Draco felt sick. His head was spinning and his stomach was queasy in the wake of his flagging rage. He splashed some cold water on his face, then washed the funnel and put it away. He pressed his back against the sink, feeling the edge cut into his spine. The pain cleared his head somewhat, and he took a deep breath.
The little strumpet would pay for her abuse of him. He just had to think of a way. And he would. He was a Malfoy, after all!
***********
October came, and the Halloween feast was an event everyone was looking forward to. Ginny smiled as she and Susan sat by the lake carving pumpkins for the windows of their respective dorms. They had newspapers spread out about them, piled high with pumpkin goo and seeds. Ginny thought about keeping some, to plant a small pumpkin patch at home. She'd owl her mother and see if it was ok.
"Oh Ginny, you're nose is so red!" Susan laughed, tossing some pumpkin goo at her. Ginny laughed. "Hey!"
"I'm happy to see you smile," Susan added. "You've been rather gloomy this week, and you haven't spoken of it."
Typical Susan, Ginny thought wryly, subtle as a thunder storm.
"I'm sorry," Ginny said softly after a moment. "I've had a lot to think about lately. My classes are harder than I had anticipated, and...."
Susan nodded in understanding and decided to say out loud what they both knew.
"And Harry has finally landed the lovely Cho Chang."
Ginny looked up at her friend, her eyes enormous with emotion, and nodded. There were no tears, however. And Ginny seemed, more than anything else, resigned. Susan felt frustration and anger at both Ginny and Harry. Things shouldn't have happened this way, but by some ironic twist of fate, they had. Ginny's love had been there first for Harry and the thick skulled twit had chosen to ignore it. And Ginny! Ginny had chosen to be afraid and live on hope rather than take the initiative and find out what she didn't want to know. Now her pain was deeper and more profound than if she'd revealed her feelings to Harry long before. So many years, wasted! True love tossed aside like garbage. Susan exhaled impatiently. She had a very real desire to knock them both about with a Bludger!
"You're thinking rather loudly," Ginny's voice cut through her reverie. Susan started, and then smiled.
"Sorry, just considering things," she said lightly.
"Considering a certain red headed idiot, perhaps?" Ginny smiled and looked at her friend, an almost playful note in her voice. Susan shook her head.
"It's just that I feel badly for you, and angry about this whole thing! It shouldn't have happened this way, you know. It didn't have to."
"No one is more aware of that than me, Susan," Ginny replied gravely. "But...it worked out for the best. Harry has loved Cho for a long time and he finally found the courage to tell her and win her. I know you think that might have been me, but I don't think so. Harry followed his heart and it led him to her."
Susan wanted to argue, but Ginny's logic was sound. If only logic and emotion weren't two different things, she thought, I might believe this isn't affecting you at all.
"If you believe you made the right choice, than I do too," she finally said. Ginny smiled gratefully.
"Thank you, Susan. That means the world to me."
"Now," Susan picked up her pumpkin again and continued scraping out its insides. "Shall we make them evil or funny?"
"Well if you want an evil one, just carve Malfoy's face on it!" Ginny replied mischievously. Susan laughed heartily.
"That'll scare everyone!"
They both laughed at that and began carving in earnest, deciding on funny faces. They chatted about small things, simply enjoying each other's company and the chill wind that blew across the water, despite the bright sunshine. Neither of them noticed the figure that stood behind a nearby tree. Still for a moment, listening to their chatter, it stealthily moved away towards the castle.
Leave a Review