CHAPTER 1


Ginny's third year, September
First entry in the diary


-Hi!

X-Hello.

-Great! I wasn't sure you'd be there yet.

X-Yet? I've been waiting forever! Thought you'd never write. What's your name?

-Gosh! I never even thought of that...

X-You've never thought of what your name is?

-LOL! Don't be silly! No, I've never thought what name I want to use for this. I know this might seem a little weird, but I don't want to reveal my identity just yet. I thought it would be more fun to use nicknames and guess at who we are.

X-Ah!
Mon ami wants to play a game! By all means, I'm a master at these kind of games.

-You go to Beauxbatons!

X-I'm not denying, nor do I confirm.

-Gah! We've only been writing for a couple of minutes and you are already acting like an arse! ; ) At least now I know that the diaries are charmed not to write lies. I'm not telling you where I go then either!

X-Well, it was you who wanted to play the guessing game, wasn't it? Have you changed your mind?

-No. At least I know that you are more or less English, although you might know some French.

X-Or I might have just thrown the phrase in to confuse you.

-Right. Schaisse to you then! :P

X-Ha-ha. Somehow I think it's the only word you know in German.

-I'm not denying, nor do I confirm. :P

X-Making faces? You are a girl!

-I'm not denying, nor do I confirm, (:P) but I can tell you that I love Quidditch.

X-Hm... You wouldn't have said it like that if you were a boy, would you? I can only hope now that you're also smart and beautiful.

-Ha!
You are a boy! Wait! Then you go to Durmstrang? Nooo! Please don't be from Durmstrang!

X-What's wrong with going to Durmstrang?

-It teaches Dark Arts and I've had it up to my neck with dark wizards! Please be a girl!

X-Sorry, no can do. And frankly, I'm a bit offended. Going to Durmstrang does not a dark wizard make!

-You go to Durmstrang. See me sighing.

X-Yes, I think we've established that. Something the matter?



You there?

-Yes. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. Our headmaster wouldn't have allowed us to write with Durmstrang boys if they were all dark, so... It's just that I’ve had a bad experience with diaries and dark magic.

X-That's all right. I'm not easily offended. What kind of bad experience? You wrote into a possessed diary or something?



You do know it's kind of impolite to just keep disappearing like that?

-Yes. Sorry. It's just I don't really want to talk about it.

X-Okay. I'm starting to feel weird. There's a lot you don't seem to want to talk about.

-Yeah. Sorry.

X-You keep apologising.

-Yep. I'm an apologising girl.

X-See? I'm always right – you're a girl!

-Oh, yes, give the man a prize.

X-Ooh! Sarcastic too! And likes Quidditch... I knew I'd get a wife out of this! (punches the air)

-What? Wife? Are you mad? I could be dead ugly and stupid to boot!

X-Nah! You aren't stupid. And we could glamour you if you really are hideous.

-What? You'd keep Glamouring your wife every quarter of an hour of your life?

X-I have a keen sense for aesthetics.

-Ah, an artistic soul! Do you wear a beret and a colourful scarf around your delicate neck?

X-Why delicate? I could have a perfectly masculine neck under that fluffy shawl!

-LOL! And a goatee!

X-No! No goatee! I draw the line before facial hair.

-That's because you don't have any yet, you berk!

X-Hey! Stop the name-calling! Only plebeians call each other names, you twit!

-Twit? Who's the plebeian now, huh?

X-You, obviously. You are being terribly impolite!

-As opposed to your perfect conduct of cordiality.

X-Ooh! Big words! You spelt your quill to write them or does this possessed diary write for you when you're out of ideas?



Ahaa! You are out of ideas, aren't you?

-Don't joke about the diary being possessed, please. It's not funny.

X-You serious?

-Yes.

X-Oh. Well. I know it isn't. I've seen a possessed diary once. Luckily my father told me not to touch it. I can only wonder what might have happened.

-Yeah...

X-Want to talk about it?

-I kind of wrote into a diary like that once.

X-You pulling my leg, right?

-I wish.

X-Oh.



And you still decided to participate in the Triwizard Pen Pal program? You nuts?

-Yeah, nuts, that's me. You're quick on the uptake.

X-Sorry. I didn't mean it like that.



-Look, I understand if you feel uncomfortable writing with me, but we'll both lose the credit marks if we stop writing now.

-I know. I don't want to stop either. It's kind of getting back on the broom after a fall, you know.

X-Okay. Look, we can just write rubbish once a week to each other if you want to keep it light. We don't even have to do it at the same time. We'll tell the teachers that we've decided to exchange letters to save time - it's not like they can read our diary. They only track how often we write. I can just write my most boring essay drafts in here and you can do the same if you like.

-LOL. No, I'm not really that wigged about this diary business. As long as you really exist and are not a part of this stupid book, It’s fine. Joke. Sorry. Forget I said anything. I'm such a brat for bringing that up in the first place. I'm sorry if I made you feel bad, but I'm really not into reading boring essays. At least make them interesting.

X- You're assuming I can. But you're right, my essays are generally thrilling.

-Such modesty!

X-Modesty's my middle name just as Brat is yours. Let’s say that you're forgiven for now.

-For now? :) What does that even mean?

X-Relax, my dear Brat, it just means that my forgiveness will be withheld until I manage to put my foot in my mouth. Then we'll be even.

-If you studied here, you'd be in Slytherin.

X-Slytherin? (insert a raised eyebrow)

-The students are divided into four houses here. Slytherins are considered the nastiest, sneakiest, most selfish-

X-Yes, feel free to insult me some more.

-Gah! Sorry, sorry, sorry! It was meant to be a joke.

X-LOL, you're incorrigible! You owe me two now.

-Yep – you're Slytherin all right.

X-Fine, you can call me Slytherin then and I'm going to call you Brat.

-And why should you be the one to make that decision for both of us?I think I want to choose my name for myself!

X-You going to argue me to death, aren't you? Hold your horses, we're not even married yet. All right, all right. If you let me call you Brat, you'll only owe me one.

-LOL. Deal. Just promise me to come to dinner on time every day and not forget the birthdays of our seven children. And the most important thing - promise me you're not a dark wizard.

X-Merlin, you're almost as paranoid as my father. You do remember that this diary makes me unable to lie, right? So there - I'm not.

-Your father's paranoid? HE sniffs his food too? And you'll have to spell it out for me. Just in case.

X-You're a nuisance, you know that? Fine! I'm not a dark wizard. And no, my father doesn't sniff, he has a sniffer elf for that. Joke. But my father does have the most intricate and nasty spells on half of his cupboards and cabinets at home. He even sends letters in secret codes, it's ridiculous!

-Or witch!

X-What?

-Write that you are not a dark witch.

X-For Grindelwald's sake! Durmstrang, remember? I'm not a witch, all right?

-And you can't be a Muggle girl, since you have this diary...

X-Oh, dear Merlin, I'm getting grey hair already. I'm filing for divorce before I turn bald! I'm your regular blood red male from Durmstrang, who is not a white hat, but not a pathetic Muggle-lover either. I play Quidditch, enjoy riding, Arithmancy, puzzles and reading. Your turn. Since you know my sex and school it's only fair you'll tell me yours.

-All right. I enjoy Charms, flying (and Quidditch, might try out for a team some day), I am a Muggle-lover, but I'm not pathetic and you are a stuck-up pureblood or half-blood! :P

X-Sticking tongue out again? I'm not even asking – you must be a Huffelpuff!

-I'm not denying, nor do I confirm. :P

X-No need. I already know you go to Hogwarts.

-Why Hogwarts? I could be from Beauxbatons.

X- You didn’t even ask me who Huffelpuffs are! And the Triwizard pen pal program doesn't allow students from the same school to interact, remember? Besides, you offered Beauxbatons as my school first.

-You win. I'm a Hogwarts gal. Which year are you?

X-Well, per program rules I'm somewhere between a year younger and a year older than you.

-Very funny.

X-You expected me to tell you?

-Not really. I guess it doesn't matter. I can just call you my young friend since your inferior intelligence clearly indicates that you must be younger.

X-Ha-ha! Which of us is the Brat I ask you?

-Ha-ha back, you git. So, you like Quidditch, you said? Do you play?

X-Can't tell you, that'd give too much away. You might want to use your girly charms and find out my identity. Scheming and intrigues are in your blood.

-Ha! So you do play! I guess you won't tell me which position?

X-Dream on, Brat! And you didn't deny having girly charms. That's comforting. You must be at least moderately pretty.

-Don't be such a boy! What difference does it make how I look? I might look a troll, but still be a wonderful person.

X-Rubbish. I know a couple of troll-like guys who are as mean as they are ugly.

-Well it doesn't work like that with girls. Average looking girls are often very nice. Shy, but nice.

X-You're not so shy, so I guess you aren't average. And I refuse to believe you are ugly.

-Such gallantry!

X-At your service, my fair maiden.

-What if I told you I was cock-eyed and had a crooked nose?

X-Nonsense. At least tell me if you have long hair.

-Dream on, Slytherin! I'm bald.

X-Why do I keep hearing an insult in that word every time you write it?

-Oh my pots and cauldrons! You are a seer! You must be! (Insert a major freak out with screaming and waving hands.)

X-(Pats you on your hideously short hair.) Relax Brat, I only see thoughts of hideous girls.

-It's not I'm not Grrr! You almost made me give it away, you git! You know what? That's what I'm going to call you from now on! If you get to call me Brat, then I get to call you Git!

X-No, it would make you twice my debtor. Better stick to Slytherin.

-In your dreams, Git!

X-You're hilarious, you know that? On that note however I must dash off. Practice.

-Quidditch?

X-Yep. Next week, same time?

-Deal, Git.

X-Love you too, Brat.




The next morning


“Hi, Hermione!”


Hermione smiled as she saw Ginny almost skipping into the Common Room.


“Good morning?”


“Fab. Yours?”


“Great. You coming to breakfast with me? The boys will probably be along later.”


Ginny nodded.


“Soo...” she said, having no idea how to approach the subject. “Have you already written to your pen pal?”


“You look giddy,” Hermione noted with a somewhat sly smile.


Ginny felt herself flush. “I'm not giddy! I'm not!” she exclaimed, but then after not so much probing she told her older friend all she knew about her new friend from Durmstrang.


Ginny's third year, October
Eighth entry



-What do you mean, you're not coming?

X-I know, you've no idea how disappointed I am!

-Why?

X-You tell me! My father won't let me! He thinks it's dangerous!

-What? Why?

X-Because he's just barmy, deranged, delirious, paranoid-

-Never mind that! What did he say? Why does he think it’s dangerous?

D-He didn't explain really, but I think he suspects some stupid secret society is planning on crashing the party.

-
Death Eaters? Is your father one of them?

X-Do I sound like someone who'd have a Death Eater for a father?

-No-no, sorry, it's just the way you said it...

X-Yeah, forget it. I just don't want to go into that right now. My father, he's... it's difficult.

-All right. You don't have to tell me, I have a big family, so I know how it can be.

X-How big? You'll have to tell me, I've only got my mum and we see the rest of the family once a year or so.

-I've got a horde of siblings. Only mum? What about your father? Doesn't he live with you? Oh Gryffin's pants! Are they
divorced?

X-No, no. Nothing so drastic. Purebloods don't do divorce, you know that. It's just that my father was more or less an absentee figure until I turned five. I don't think my mother saw him much more either. Anyway, once I reached the tutoring age, my esteemed father suddenly noticed that he had an heir to educate.

-He tutored you himself? My dad never had the time.

X-Mine didn't either. Or rather wouldn't. He got me the best teachers money could buy, but he also took it upon himself to explain to me how to think.

-How?

X-Like him. And that's all I'm going to say on the topic. Ah yes, I forgot! He also taught me genealogy. I can probably tell how any pureblood wizard or witch is related to me off the bat.

-Ah, general snob, aren't you? :D

X-I thought I was supposed to be a Git?

-And a Slytherin. They know their family trees by heart too.

X-Ah, my sort of people!

-Don't be a doofus, you don't know what they're like! Fortunately, Gryffindors are nothing like them!



Ginny's third year, June
Seventeenth entry



X-I want to keep up the correspondence after the diary's charm ends.

-Me too! I've been trying to research how to keep the connection charm alive after the project ends on 24th.

X-I don't think you can. I was more thinking of owling you.

-Owling? But...

X-Still not sure about revealing your name, my paranoid friend?

-It's not that I don't trust you... It's just this thing with-

X-Possessed diary. I know, I know. I wish you'd tell me about it in detail, so I could reassure you. All I can say now is that I really don't have any nefarious reasons for wanting to keep in touch.

-Yes. Me too. You know what? Let’s make a ceremony out of it!

X-A ceremony?

-Why do I hear a sardonic drawl in my head when you keep repeating my words? Yes, Git, a ceremony. We'll meet here in a week, on June 24th, an hour before midnight and reveal our names, all right?

X-An hour before midnight?

-You're doing it again, you Git!

X-LOL. Sorry, sorry. Why an hour before midnight?

-Because, my dear, simple friend, we'll then have an hour for building up the tension and puzzles and stuff. And then, at the end of it we tell each other the names with mere minutes before the connection charm wears off and it will be GREAT!

X-Like to live dangerously, do you?

-Well, Gryffindors are supposed to be brave.

X-Or stupid.

-Yes, yes, oh wise one. Now, do you agree? 24th, at eleven?

X-Deal, Brat.

-Great. Git!

X- Ha. Ha. Ha. Hear me laugh.

-Night, you sad old man. 

X-You too. Sleep well.

-:D

X-You just can't stop, can you?

-Neither can you!

X-I can go on all night if I want.

-Is that a challenge?

X-Oh, Merlin, no! Is everything a challenge for you?

-Yep!

X-Fine, in that case, Brat, I forfeit. Night.

-Night. (I win! :P)



Ginny's third year, June 24th


The night Cedric Diggory died most of the students went to bed early. By ten o'clock the Gryffindor Common Room was empty, but for the two girls hugging each other quietly on the plush scarlet couch in front of the fire. It was only in the morning, when Ginny extricated herself from her friend’s embrace, that she remembered the meeting with her pen pal last night.


In her desperate hope, she rushed up the stairs and dug the book out of her bottom drawer where she always locked it for the safekeeping. Ginny opened it with shaking hands in the middle to get to the correct page, but it was useless – all the pages were blank. It was too late. Now, Ginny cried.


Five weeks after the Death Eaters' Department of Mysteries fiasco
The Burrow



“I can't believe the bastard snuffed it!” Ron exclaimed for the third time since his father had showed them the article in the Daily Prophet.


“He got what was coming to him,” Mr Weasley agreed and this time even Mrs Weasley didn't admonish him about being glad about someone's death.


Ginny couldn't regret it either. Sitting next to her father at the breakfast table, she couldn't tear her eyes off the title,

PRISON MUTINY SUPPRESSED – Lucius Malfoy Dead

Auror Barton Lauded



Ginny's fifth year, 3rd week of September


“Hya, Harry!” Colin Creevy shouted from the door into the Common Room and made a straight dash towards his idol. Ginny saw Harry blush and Ron roll his eyes. Colin plopped down so close to Harry it was almost as embarrassing as his goofily admiring smile.


“Hey!” Ginny exclaimed when shoved aside on the couch, but Colin paid her no mind.


“Did you hear about the Junior Death Eater, Harry?”


Instantly all the eyes were on Colin, although most were annoyed that the younger student had once again usurped all their attention with yet another ridiculous statement.


“What?” Harry frowned and it was apparent that had Colin's statement been less intriguing he wouldn't have said anything at all.


“Lucius Malfoy's son! He's transferred from Durmstrang and arrived not twenty minutes ago!”


“Don't be an idiot! Malfoy didn't have a son!” Ron exploded.


“Yes, he did! I just saw him arrive! His name is Draconius or Scorpius or some other reptilian and Kenneth's cousin says that he's been reserve seeker for the last two years for Durmstrang's team!”


Suddenly Ginny felt sick. If it was true, she would have to see him every day in the same halls she was walking in, she would have to see him going to classes and sit down for meals in the same room. It was bad enough that such a man like Lucius Malfoy had a son at all, but to think that he would come here, to the same school with her...


“Kenneth Towler?” At Colin's nod Hermione continued, “How do you know he's telling the truth? Wasn't he the one who kept saying that Slytherin's heir was disguising himself as Filch's cat?”


“So he was wrong, could've happened to anyone!” It seemed that Colin's smile was as permanent as a birthmark.


“How would he know that Malfoy's son transferred here?” Harry asked.


“It's like I said: I saw him arrive just now! He's tall, thin, pale and blond like his father, and arrived just after Malfoy's death. Of course it's his son!”


“Surely there are more people with blond hair than the Malfoys, “ Hermione reasoned.


“Given my luck,” Harry grimaced, “he's not only Malfoy junior, but he's also just as evil as his dad.”


“Do you think he came here to get revenge on you, Harry?”


“Don't be silly, Colin!” Hermione's tone turned lecturing, “Harry had nothing to do with Lucius Malfoy's death!”


“But they did duel at the Department of Mysteries—“


“Lucius didn't die at the Department of Mysteries and I didn't kill him,” Harry said, annoyed. “But I guess we can't discount the idea that he came here to spy for Voldemort. If it is Malfoy's son, I mean.”


“You think he's a Death Eater?” Colin's voice was full of horrified reverence.


“If it's him, he dead sure is a Death Eater!” Ron interjected. “He even studied at Durmstrang!”


“Ron!” Hermione half-shouted exasperatedly. “How many times do I have to tell you that not everyone who studies there is not a Dark Wizard! Victor-”


“Yes, yes, yes!” Ron cut her off rudely. “Don't talk to me about him!”


“But he's right,” Ginny interjected. “Not everyone who goes there becomes a Death Eater.”


“Yes, yes, we know all about your friend, who three years ago was not a Death Eater.”


Ginny stood. “You are being an arse!”


“I'm just saying - you don't really know anything about this guy. He didn't even tell you his name, for Merlin's sake! Hermione, you tell her!”


“I didn't tell him mine either, so your paranoid and childish mind can be at rest, Ronnikins!”


“Guys, guys! You both have a point,” Harry interrupted what could have turned into a full Weasley shouting match. “Gin, I'm sorry to say so, but it's ancient history. So, Ron, please shut it.”


Ginny huffed and left for her dorm room. She didn't think she was going to breakfast the next morning. The idea of seeing a supposed Malfoy in the castle was entirely too much.


The next day


Although Ginny went to breakfast it was with trepidation. She went quite early and was now sitting facing the door, waiting. Her food was untouched. The moment she saw him stepping into the room, the picture started moving as if in slow motion, an age passed and then – whoosh – suddenly it was all over: he was already sitting at the Slytherin table and Ginny covertly stared at him from behind her long locks. Only those who knew her well would know that she was acting unlike herself. Thankfully Colin was chatting away at her, oblivious.


The conversations around her soon confirmed that yes, the new boy was called Draco Malfoy and was indeed Lucius Malfoy's son. He joined the sixth year and unsurprisingly the private sorting, which had taken place the evening before, gave him the green and silver emblem on his left breast pocket.

“Look at him, just like his father – even the nose is the same,” Ginny heard Annabel, a third year, telling her friend somewhere to the left of her. “The same cruel cold eyes too! Dee says that she overheard Flint telling his friends that he saw a Dark Mark on his arm in the showers!”


By the end of the breakfast the label of Junior Death Eater was carelessly thrown around by most students. Ginny however, secretly agreed with Hermione – nobody should be condemned by their relations alone. One couldn't trust rumours so explicitly after all. Ginny thought that if Draco Malfoy really had a Dark Mark, he wouldn't be so stupid as to just let it be seen by his schoolmates. It wouldn't have been safe even in Slytherin.


Ginny observed as a group of Slytherins was huddling around him and a couple of the fourth year girls were giggling like mad. Ginny didn't doubt that if the boy had allowed it, the Parkinson cow would be feeding him from her fork. He was probably used to being serviced left and right. Disgusting!


She couldn't help but agree that his hair wasn't the only thing that made him look like his father. He had the same slightly aquiline nose and pointy chin. He was too far for her to see the colour of his eyes, but his demeanour was snooty and if it was slightly friendlier than his father's, then Ginny supposed that in the immediate circle of his friends Lucius Malfoy might have looked quite similar. Draco Malfoy might not be evil, but he didn't seem particularly nice either. Too aloof and patronising for her taste. Ginny grimaced slightly.


Ginny's fifth year, 4th week of September


That day Ginny skipped dinner. Not because she didn't want to see Malfoy holding court yet again, but because she wasn't hungry.


When other students started returning from the Great Hall she realised instantly that something out of ordinary must have happened. First she saw Harry running up to his dorm and then rushing back towards the portrait only minutes later with a backpack slung over his shoulder. Older and younger students, filing into the Common Room, were whispering furiously.


“Natalie!” Ginny pulled the third-year towards the sofa she was sitting on and forced the girl on the sofa. “What are they all talking about?”


“Didn't you go to dinner? You didn't see?” At Ginny's shaking her head the younger girl explained, “Harry and Malfoy almost had a duel!”


“What happened?”


“I didn't see the beginning, but when I came in, Harry and Malfoy were standing in the middle of the Great Hall facing off.” She turned to other students, “Hey, Katie, Romilda, did you see what happened?”


“Shh! Harry might hear!” the others shushed her, but Ginny interjected, “No, he went out, seemed to be in a hurry too. Do you think they're having a duel outside?” She jumped up, worried.


“I don't think so, Malfoy was merrily chatting with his cronies the last I saw him, he wasn't in a hurry anywhere,” Katie replied.


Ginny relaxed and sat down. “Gonna tell me what happened?”


But Katie never had the chance to say anything because at that moment the portrait slid aside and a disgruntled Hermione came in. In the sudden quiet she blushed.


“What? Malfoy was just being a racist arse and nothing else. Nobody actually cares what he thinks, unless they are empty-headed Slytherins. Forget it, all right?”


With these words she marched into her room, but Ginny was too good of a friend (and too curious) to let Hermione stew alone. When she knocked, Hermione didn't answer, but Ginny opened the door anyway. The older girl was lying on the bed with her eyes closed.


“I knew you'd enter anyway.”


“You want me to leave?”


Hermione shook her head. “Nah, stay. But it really isn't such a big deal. Ron and Harry went hopping mad, but I don't really care.”


Ginny sat on the bed, next to the other girl. “You'll have to start from the beginning, Hermione. I have no idea what are you talking about.”


“Weren't you at dinner?” Hermione opened an eye to peek at Ginny. “I thought the whole school knew by now.”


“Well I would have heard everything had you not barged in at the most inopportune time.”


“Sorry.” Hermione grinned unrepentantly, but then turned solemn and started. “We were just having dinner and Malfoy was just telling his pack some story or other, but throughout the story neighbouring students and other tables hushed one by one and soon his voice carried over to us and... I didn't even hear most of it and frankly, I'm glad. It was the most tasteless racist story I've ever heard. It was about Muggle baiting. Absolutely nasty and completely untrue.” She paused as if to think about it. “I hope. Or if it's true, it has to be a reaaally old story, but I hope it’s an urban legend or something.”


“Ah. That kind of a story. I think I've heard a couple of them too. So what happened then?”


“And then suddenly Dean couldn't take it any more and he interrupted the storytelling. You know he's Muggleborn too, right? Anyway, after some heated words – insults really - were exchanged, Harry jumped up said something about Voldemort and Malfoy retaliated with something about him being the Saint Potter that will save us all, and before you know Ron is there and I'm being called a mudblood.”


“What?! I'll hex his ugly mug! Wait, what about the professors?”


“The dinner was almost over by that time and only Madame Pince was there and you know how she is – tries to stay invisible unless she's in a library. It's as if the books give her courage – honestly! And calm down, you know I don't care about these kind of things. Ron – well you know how he is – went berserk of course, Malfoy went on, explaining how it would smell better around here if some Muggleborns would just drop off and then suddenly Harry says, 'As far as I'm concerned, the air's clean enough now that your dad's snuffed it.”


Ginny gasped in surprise.


“Yes, rather thoughtless of him, wasn't it? That's where Professor Vector came in and after a brief tense silence Malfoy says, 'Just stay out of my business, Potter,' and Harry answers with something similar and that's it really.”


“But Natalie said they almost duelled.”


“Well, for a moment there, they went still as statues and I thought that any moment now one of them would be drawing a wand, but thankfully, no one did.”


Ginny lay down next to Hermione and groaned. “You know, he's barely been here a week and I already hate that obnoxious arse. I don't even know him really.”


But Hermione shook her head. “Don't worry, he's probably not worth knowing anyway, Gin. I suggest you not waste your energy on hating him either.”


“You're right. I'm just gonna ignore that pasty white cretin.”


Ginny's fifth year, 1st week of October


Ginny needed a book. She needed that book badly, but the only way to get it was to pass the Slytherin assembly presided by none other than Draco bloody Malfoy. They were standing exactly at the opening of the aisle she needed and naturally, it had to be one of those one-way-in aisles.


Ugh! Ginny thought, squared her shoulders, tightened her hold on her book bag and set for walking through the throng really casually. Malfoy was facing the other way, his cronies were avidly looking into his apparently gold spouting mouth, so there was no reason for them to even no-


“Why, you must be another Weasley!”


-tice her. Great. And now her cheeks were burning. Ginny had just opened her mouth to retaliate when she felt that she was stuck.


“Nice knickers, Weasley!” the cretin said.


The Slytherins roared with laughter and she turned back only to see that the hem of her skirt was glued to the desk corner. Angrily she tugged at it, but it didn't budge. At this point the Slytherins got hysterical. Ginny felt hot and for a moment she just stood there inhaling and exhaling, then she took out her wand and muttered a Finite to the Sticking Charm.


She knew that there was no way they actually saw her underwear, but it was still embarrassing enough for all her clever comebacks to have fled her head.


“Go to hell, Malfoy,” she hissed, and sent a Stinging Hex straight between his eyes. Fortunately, by the time she returned with the book, Madame Pince had already dispersed the gaggle of morons.


TBC

Author notes: The thing borrowed from 'Different Worlds' was the idea of what would have happened if Lucius had put his son in Durmstrang. Please review. :)

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