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Yeah yeah, it's all J.K. Rowling's stuff, I just like to play with it. Summary: Telling of Ginny's first day and night at Hogwarts. Is it as bad as she expected? Or is it worse...

The great feast was different that year. Although Albus Dumbledore seemed to not notice the weird atmosphere that swept through the hall, Ginny noticed and it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up in fear. It was as if an ominous black cloud hung over the students, with even the first years seeming more jittery then usual.

Realizing that since the beginning of the sorting a mouth had persistently been massaging her neck, Ginny turned to face Harry, who smiled tenderly at her. His smile faded when he saw the concern on her face. “What’s wrong babe?” He asked, and for the first time Ginny felt a stab of annoyance at his cliché use of endearments.

She paused to compose herself then tried to piece her thoughts together. “It’s… the feast. The whole thing seems so… gloomy.” She shook her head, trying to express herself. “Look at you. You’re sitting there like we always do, Hermione and Ron are arguing like they always do-” she nodded across the table where Ron was once more protesting at Hermione’s ignorance about Quidditch. “And yet… Something’s changed. The storm this evening- like you said weird weather for September. And what Malfoy said on the train…”

Harry snorted. “He was just trying to scare you. He loves to think that fear follows him- don’t give in to it Ginny. You’re probably just tired.”

Ginny frowned, not liking the way Harry had just brushed off the subject. “Maybe you’re right. You know, I am actually very tired.” Harry leaned forward and tried to kiss her, but Ginny moved her chair back quickly. Harry almost fell of his chair and regained his balance looking confused. “I think I’ll skip the feast,” she said quickly, standing up.

“Gin-” Harry began, peeved by her sudden change of attitude towards him.

“I said I’m tired, Harry,” she snapped. Walking quickly out of the hall, she did not notice silver eyes watching her leave.


That night she tossed and turned, unable to get to sleep. Eventually she grabbed a rug and levitated a mattress and pillow out of the Gryffindor Common room. Quietly, she snuck up the stairs to the astronomy tower, and there she laid down the bedding. Pulling the rug around her, she sat on the window sill and watched the moonless night. Somehow it seemed foreboding, and Ginny shivered slightly in the cold air- not from chill but a strange apprehension. It was her sixth year and she had a feeling it was not going to be a good one.

Shivers ran up and down her back and determined to catch at least a few hours sleep, she lay down on the thin mattress and banished all fearful thoughts. She was Ginny Weasly, she reminded herself. The girl that half the boys lusted after, the one who was in total control of herself, the one that feared nothing. With a shaky idea of this girl in her head she fell asleep.

Waking only four hours later, she heard a raven crying somewhere in the dark. Her fear from last night engulfed her again, and clambering back onto the windowsill she watched the sun rise, wondering what this strange apprehension was.

She kept remembering what Malfoy had said on the train... somehow it had got to her and she didn't like it.

“You’re mad.”

“Perhaps.” An amused grin, steel glinting in his cold eyes; daring her to challenge him.

“Is he?” she spoke her thoughts out loud. “Is he mad? I never thought of him like that: cruel, evil, discriminating yes but mad? I don’t know.” Her soul seemed to have been suddenly dipped in coldness. “What has he seen to make him go mad?”

“Things you’ll never know. Things that you’d fear and despair of. Things that you’d be tempted to leap off that very ledge to escape from.”

Apprehension clutched at her, and she turned her head to identify the speaker though she already knew who it was. Draco Malfoy leaned on the wall, watching her intently.

Opening her mouth to utter some witty, cold statement, Ginny suddenly changed her mind. “Fuck off Malfoy.”

He flinched, and Ginny stared at him amazed at this sudden break in personality. But then his composure returned and when he spoke it was in the same cold tone that he always used. “I’ll fuck off when and if I want to. I have more right to this castle then you.”

“Oh really?” spat Ginny. “Well I think you’ll find that I too am a pureblood- that’s what means so much to your precious family isn’t it?”

Draco smiled. “So you would think. Of course, you never look deeper into the morals of a true pureblood family. Pick out one value like you just did and use it over and over again as you and Potty, Weasel and the mudblood do- keep it as your mantra against me if you will, for you are ignorant; you read the first rule in the book then presume you can play the game. You know nothing, Weasley.”

Ginny glared at the pale featured boy. “Practice what you preach, boy. What have you against muggle-borns? That ‘mudblood’ you spoke of is currently beating you in marks by a considerable amount. Perhaps you should read more than the first rule- Hermione Granger is a person and more of one then you will ever be.”

A strange expression overtook Draco’s face. His gaze went up and down her body, from her bare feet to shock of red hair. “Are you so sure?” he muttered almost inaudibly.

Ginny did not hear him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, Malfoy? Sizing me up?”

Draco didn’t miss a beat. “There is more than one reason for sizing someone up, Weasley. One is as you no doubt know to check out their body. The second is to see what curse would be used to the best effect.” He smirked. “What do you think I was doing?”

Ginny didn’t bother answering. “Goodbye, Malfoy,” she said, gathering her stuff and once more levitating her mattress. “I can’t say it was pleasant seeing you.”

She left the room and didn’t look back. Draco Malfoy however crossed to the sill and sat on it, slate-gray eyes gazing at the doorway where she had left.


“Ignorant boy,” Ginny muttered, sitting somewhat miserably in the library that evening. “I hate him!”

“Hate who?” an inquiring voice asked quietly.

Looking up, Ginny saw Luna slide into the chair in front of her. “Oh, it’s you.” she said harshly, not mad at Luna but wanting to take her rage on the git out on someone.

“Who do you hate?” Luna repeated, eyes wandering dreamily around the room.

“Draco Malfoy, the ignorant prat. I don’t know why Dumbledore keeps Slytherins at the school, there’s not one death eater that hasn’t been in that house! He should cart the lot of them off to Durmstrang, where they belong.”

Hermione appeared as if from nowhere and sat down at the table with them. “What are you talking about?” she asked in a breezy manner.

“Slytherins,” Ginny spat. “And how they’re the most ignorant, annoying, evil, manipulating little pricks to ever walk the planet.”

“Harry Potter was considered for Slytherin,” Luna said mistily.

Ginny and Hermione both stared at her, flabbergasted. “You- you’re lying!” Ginny accused, angrily.

“N-no, she’s not,” Hermione stammered. “How’d you know, Luna?”

“Harry told me,” she replied calmly.

Ginny was baffled. “Harry Potter was considered for Slytherin? You’ve both gone completely insane.”

“No Ginny,” Hermione said quietly. “It’s true. He told us.”

“Well why would he have told you then?” Ginny almost shouted, turning on Luna.

"I think Harry Potter sees a certain similarity between us, ever since I told him about my mother dying. Besides, I notice things. He always looks a little worried when someone calls him a true Gryffindor, and he often hesitates before calling all Slytherin's evil. Like I notice how you Hermione always turn red when ever a certain..."

“Shut up!” screeched Hermione, slapping Luna’s hand while Ginny suddenly became intrigued.

Luna smiled, protruding eyes seeming strangely mischievous. “I have to go to the common room,” she said. “I wouldn’t stay here long if I were you. Lord Tweezemont-”

“Who’s Lord Whatshisname?” Ginny interrupted.

“Lord Tweezemont. Tom Riddle’s father, the most evil of all wizards, and he has sent out an army of Nerfles to fly through the books in secret passageways that only they know and invade the minds of innocent students.”

“There’s no such thing-” Hermione began with an exasperated sigh as Ginny stifled a giggle.

“Yes, there is,” Luna continued. “Cornelius Fudge actually unwittingly created the Nerfles from excessive ear wax…”

She and Hermione left the library, arguing furiously and leaving Ginny to meditate on the revelation that Luna had unveiled.

Harry was almost sorted into Slytherin? Impossible. He’s the boy who lived, for crying out loud! Yet Hermione said it was true… Why wouldn’t he have told me?

She frowned. Maybe he hadn’t thought to. “But,” she muttered under her breath. “It’s not exactly something you forget. Shouldn’t you put that on your dating resume? I’m a great kisser and have the lovely addition of fame and most people worship me, but unfortunately I was almost sorted into Slytherin so I’m probably evil at heart.” Ginny shook her head. Harry was definitely not evil.

Definitely not evil,” she said in a small, uncertain voice before gathering up her books and preparing to leave.


Ginny was walking along the corridor with her head in a very good book when she was suddenly pushed hard against a wall. Before she could cry out, a hard mouth pushed onto hers and a tongue explored her mouth. This was definitely not Harry. Struggling, she found that she was pinned to the wall and had no way of escaping. To any passer by she must have looked like she was involved in a snog fest, and there was no way they were going to help her.

Struggling and shaking, breathing through her nose Ginny felt panic rise within her. She tried to scream but the hot, awful mouth covered hers blocking out any noise. Bile rose in her throat but refused to eject, although she would have welcomed a good spew- it would have got whoever this was off her.

Suddenly the strange man collapsed and she looked into the furious eyes of a boy, wand out and pointed at the groaning heap on the floor. Still shaking, she looked down and saw the awful face of Gregory Goyle.

Managing to stumble a few steps away from him, Ginny felt her knees shake and then give way as she collapsed into a small heap on the floor. Then she vomited, its taste horrible and hurting her throat.

A cool hand held her forehead and pulled her hair back as she vomited and vomited. When she finished it offered her a cloth and a glass of water, then Vanished the mess on the ground. The person helped her too her feet and took her to a wall which she leaned against. Turning to face the boy who had saved her, for the second time that day she found herself face to reluctant face with Draco Malfoy.

“Your idea I expect,” she managed to say in a trembling voice.

“No.” his voice was quiet. “Not mine.”

“But you knew… You knew it was going to happen.”

“I thought it was Parkinson. It would have been funny to see her face…”

“You think I look like Parkinson?”

He rubbed his forehead, stressed. “No. You wouldn’t understand…”

“I don’t understand why you seem to take Goyle molesting me as a regular thing!” she exploded.

“I don’t!” he yelled. “I bloody pulled him off you!”

“But you knew it was going to happen! Why’d you let him do it in the first place?”

“Look, Goyle told me Pansy was about to walk round the corner and wouldn’t it be funny if he kissed her. I agreed it would be- I didn’t know it was you! He’s been lusting after you since fifth year…” He flicked a strand of hair out of his eyes.

“I should have known he would have played some trick like this… He’s so thick I can usually see through him.” He was berating himself, talking to himself rather then Ginny and unbelievably, Ginny began to cry.

Draco stiffened, not knowing what to do. “Weasley. Weasley, pull yourself together for Gods sake,” his manner was abrupt, cold and Ginny would never have guessed it was because he was unused to crying girls.

“Shut up,” she whispered. “Just shut the hell up Malfoy. If your mate bloody snogs me I’ll cry if I want. Just… just piss off.”


He stood perfectly still for a moment, then nodded his head. “Are you okay to get back to the common room?”

“I- I think so.” she took a few steps of the wall and instantly collapsed again, she was shaking too hard to stand freely.

“Er, look I’ll take you back okay? You need help and it’s past curfew, so you’re friends will probably bee in the common room.”

Much as Ginny wanted to say no, and make her own way back, she knew that Draco was talking sensibly. So uncomfortably, she leaned on his shoulder and allowed him to wrap an arm around her waist. In this strange manner for the two enemies, they made their way to the seventh floor, where Ginny had instructed him to go. Stopping outside the portrait of the fat lady, they pulled apart from each other and Ginny leaned on the wall.

“Well, seeya.” She murmured, blushing.


“Malfoy? This doesn’t mean we have to be friends, does itr?”

She saw something that looked like anger flash across his face but it was instantly replaced with a sneer. “Of course not. You’ll always be a weasel to me. Besides, it’s not like I saved your life or anything.”

They both knew that he had as good as.

He strode away, and Ginny had a dreadful feeling rthat she had made a mistake. “Draco?”

He turned, surprised at her slip of tongue- why was she calling him Draco? “Yeah?”


He smiled and nodded, then left.

“Hippogriff,” Ginny muttered and stumbled inside the common room where Harry sat alone.

“Hello Gin!” He smiled at her.

“It’s Ginny.” Her voice was cold but Harry did not seem to have worked out that she was angry with him yet.

“Come sit on my lap,” he smiled as seductively as the seventeen year old could.

“No thankyou,” Ginny snapped.

“Hey Gin! What’s wrong?”

Ginny rounded on him, fury building up inside of her. “What’s wrong, you bastard, is that I just was pashed- unwillingly to say the obvious- by Gregory Goyle, and you are sitting here in your big fat chair on your big, fat arse and daring to ask me to sit on you!”

She collapsed into a chair by the fire.

Harry stood up, looking not unlike Dumbledore, with fury lining his face.

“Where is he? I’ll kill him I swear!”

“There’s no need. You’ll find him on the second floor by the picture of Podeous the Pompous in a heap, lying where-“ she smiled in grim satisfaction at the horror this was going to cause Harry “-right where Draco Malfoy left him.”

There was silence, horror on Harry’s side (as Ginny had predicted) and smugness on hers. Finally, Harry managed to squeak out one word. “What?”

“That’s right. When you failed to turn up, even Draco Malfoy- my nemesis- did a better job of saving me.” She took a large swig of the butterbeer Harry had gfiven her.

“That’s a little unfair, Gin. How could I have known you were in trouble?”

Ginny set the goblet down with an almighty clang! “That’s your problem, isn’t it!” she shouted. She stormed up to the bedroom and went to sleep, loathing Harry Potter with every inch of her heart.

A/N Okay- Ginny definitly over-reacted on that one! I've decided a quick temper will suit her.... And for those of you who're wondering, no she doesn't really hate Harry, she's just irrationally angry at him. I love reviews!

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