Ginny Weasley groaned as she lugged her trunk onto the train. She was all alone for the time being; it was supposed to be Ron’s seventh year, but he and Hermione and Harry weren’t going to be arriving at school for some time yet. They were off doing God knows what, leaving her behind as usual.

Her summer had been pretty uneventful. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had mysteriously disappeared the day after Bill and Fleur’s wedding. No one knew where they were except Lupin and McGonagall. Ginny, however, had seen them leave.

The sun had just started to rise and the air around the pond was hazy. Ginny had been sitting on the steeply slanted roof of the Burrow, just outside her bedroom window. She breathed in the fresh country air and reveled in the silence that she only got to enjoy at dawn.

Her silent peace had been shattered, however, when she caught sight of three figures making their way across the lawn. She hadn’t made a move to stop them; in fact, she had slouched closer to the rooftop to stay hidden. A part of her had known they’d be going and leaving her behind, and she hated them for it, but she had accepted it.

Ginny changed into her robes immediately and left her trunk at the front of the train. She was just going to spend the whole ride in the prefect’s compartment.

She arrived there before everyone else and began to read a Muggle book Hermione had lent her a long time ago. It was called Pride and Prejudice, and Ginny had thrown it onto some shelf after reading the first unbelievably dry page. But since Hermione had been gone, Ginny had started to read it. She had been lonely since the departure of her best friend, and nothing reminded her of Hermione more than a hard-to-read book.

As she flipped open the book and ran her fingers over the already worn spine, a line from the book jumped out at her.

I could easily forgive his pride, if he had not mortified mine.

Ginny snorted.

“That’s not very ladylike,” chided a voice as the door slid open.

Ginny looked up to see Draco Malfoy leering at her.

“Malfoy,” Ginny responded curtly.

“Oh, now, Weaselette. One would think that you weren’t too fond of me.” He placed a hand over his heart as if he were wounded then sneered.

Ginny rolled her eyes and returned to her book. He eyed the cover with a look of disgust on his face but said nothing. Slowly, other prefects trickled in, a few of them asking her how her summer had been. Ginny couldn’t help but notice that several were missing; she knew many students wouldn’t be returning this year.

Hannah Abbott clapped her hands once everyone had been settled. “Hello, everyone. Let’s get the rounds sorted out and see if there’s any new business, and then everyone can go.”

Ginny looked up to see Draco Malfoy standing beside her, looking slightly sullen at the situation. She had missed his shiny, silver Head Boy badge when he had first walked in. But then again, it made sense; Ron and Ernie MacMillan were gone. Malfoy was the next best thing. “Professor McGonagall wants to do some inter-house cooperation this year. She thinks that a girl and a boy from each house should take rounds together. Does anyone have any preferences?”

The compartment immediately burst into people claiming to have practice and meetings and only being able to do it on certain days. Ginny sighed and returned to her book, she honestly didn’t care. Quidditch practice hadn’t been scheduled yet, and she honestly didn’t even know if she’d be playing this year.

Students began to filter out again once they got their assignments. When Ginny sensed the room getting quiet, she looked up from her book and was startled to see that only Hannah, Malfoy, a Ravenclaw fifth year, and herself were left in the compartment.

“Ginny?” Hannah said kindly. “Does Tuesday evenings work for you?”

Ginny nodded absently, coming out of her daze. “Yeah, sure. Tuesdays are good.”

“Good. You’ll have rounds with Draco, then,” Hannah replied with a nod.

Ginny felt her mouth drop open as Hannah turned to address the Ravenclaw boy. Malfoy? I have rounds with Malfoy. Surely this is some sort of sick joke. He almost killed my brother! He’s a Death Eater.

“I really appreciate this, Ginny,” Hannah said quietly to her as Malfoy started to gather his things in the corner. The Ravenclaw boy had since left. “No one else wanted to pair with him,” she added in a whisper. “But anyway, it’s almost one, and the Aurors are supposed to do a sweep of the train. No one can leave the compartment for now.”

Ginny groaned inwardly at the thought of spending at least another hour in the presence of Hannah and Malfoy. Malfoy didn’t look too pleased either. They all sat in strained silence for nearly twenty minutes as the train continued on through the country.

Suddenly the lights above them began to flicker rapidly, and Hannah looked around in alarm. “I’m going to go ask the conductor what’s going on. Since I’m Head Girl and everything,” she said shakily.

Both Ginny and Malfoy shrugged. The lights continued to flicker until they abruptly cut out a few minutes later.

The train jerked unpleasantly, and Ginny’s book flew out of her hands and under Malfoy’s seat across from her.

“What was that?” Malfoy asked sharply.

“Just my book, ferret. Go back to poisoning some mead or whatever it was you were doing,” Ginny muttered as she knelt on the floor to find her book.

Malfoy grunted at her mutterings.

Ginny felt around blindly beneath the seat, well aware that her head was mere inches from Malfoy’s leg and that he could curse her or hit her at any given moment. Her hand finally slapped against the book and she pulled it out from under the seat.

Unfortunately, as she stood, the train gave another jerk and Ginny toppled right into Malfoy’s lap. For a split second, before she could remove herself, she felt his breath hot against her ear and his chest rising and falling beneath her own. She jumped back, frightened, and fell back into her own seat.

Malfoy cleared his throat nervously, and Ginny stared at his outline in the darkness. Malfoy, nervous? What had gotten into him? Ginny drew her knees to her chest and opened her book again, even though it was too dark to read.

Draco placed his fingers on his temples to calm himself and slow his breathing. What’s wrong with me?

But he already knew what was wrong with him. Ginny Weasley had sat across from him for over two hours, reading her bloody Muggle book. He hadn’t minded at all, occasionally stealing glances of her and that long red hair that did something unusual to him. Something unusual flickered inside of him. Something he couldn’t place or remember.

But then she had gotten off her seat to search for her fallen book, only inches away from his legs and, more importantly, things farther north. And she had called him something; Ferret, it had sounded like. She had been teasing him. In more ways than one.

But then she had stood up and fallen right into his lap. Her red hair had fanned across his chest, tickling his lower neck. Her chocolate eyes had widened, terrified, but she hadn’t pulled away immediately. Her small hands had stayed pinned behind his neck and he felt her weight above him.

And now she was sitting across from him, her nose in her book, as if it never happened.