Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling


Chapter One: An Innocent Beginning

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Durmstrang? Where is Durmstrang?� Ginny asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


~ * ~


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

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

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


~*~


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

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

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

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


~*~


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

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

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

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

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

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

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


~*~


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


~*~


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

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

Or so they thought…

A/N: I’m going to write about all 5 years (behind the scenes), and I’ll post them as I do them. Comment if you like if, or if you have any suggestions. :)

Hogwarts: Year 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


~*~


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


~*~


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


~*~


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

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

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

-Draco

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

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


A/N: Sorry about the long wait until the update… I wrote 10 chapters for this story, and I meant to post them all here, but I keep forgetting. ^^ Anyway, hope you enjoyed it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


~*~


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

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


~*~


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-Draco

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

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


~*~


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

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

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


~*~


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hogwarts: Year 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


~*~


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

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

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

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


~*~


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-Ginny

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


~*~


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

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


~*~


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


~*~


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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