CHAPTER 4
End of March, Thursday
“Good afternoon, Ginny.”
“What do you want?” Ginny barked as she almost jumped up from her crouching position, her shoelace still untied.
“Don’t be rude, Ginny. I’m just trying to have a conversation.” Malfoy’s neutrally polite tone and calling her by her actual name were downright shocking.
“With me?” Wind was turning her wisps of her hair around her head in the most annoying manner. She tried to brush it behind her ear, but it was back in her face the next second.
Malfoy stood up from the low wall he’d been leaning on and looked around. “As it seems that we are the only two people here, I’d say yes.”
“Phew!” Ginny swept over her forehead as if wiping off sweat. “Good, you’re turning mildly insulting again, I was getting worried.”
“Would you have helped my poor sickly self to the infirmary?”
The honest amusement on his face looked so foreign that for a second Ginny had no response.
“Not even if you were dying,” she said then, wholly realizing how predictable her answer was.
“Good to know that the Earth’s still turning,” he answered back and smiled.
Ginny’s eyes widened. Suddenly, Draco Malfoy seemed almost human and what’s worse – it made him look handsome! The bastard’s utilizing his charm, is he? she thought, but she couldn’t help but be a bit charmed nonetheless. Especially since there was some weird, unfathomable tension to his demeanour, almost as if he were anxious. Why that would be though, she had no idea, but it made her testy.
“What exactly do you want, Malfoy? Trying to annoy me to death? I was having a good morning up until now.”
Slowly the traces of amusement evaporated from his face and the usual biting tone was back in his voice. “Is the concept of small talk so difficult for you to grasp? Should I draw diagrams?”
“You know what?” Ginny said after a short pause. “This conversation isn’t even interesting anymore.” She shrugged and turned back towards the castle. “Novelty’s worn off.” Her morning jog was over anyway. It was time to hit the showers.
“Be careful with your shoelaces there,” she heard him call mockingly just a moment before tripping and landing painfully on all fours.
“You shitbag!” Ginny shouted as she jumped up, her cheeks burning.
To her surprise instead of smirking with glee, Malfoy was staring at her angrily, his upturned face full of challenge.
“You tripped me,” she said, sounding less certain than she wished.
Malfoy’s lips formed a customary scowl. “Yes, because how could untied shoe laces possibly be at fault when an idle Slytherin is anywhere in the vicinity, right?”
He didn’t have a wand in his hand.
“Stupid frozen mud,” she muttered and leaned on the stone wall.
She raised her foot to tie the laces at last. Her palms hurt and her left ankle ached a bit. There was no way she was going to squat down in front of that bastard. The silence stretched into awkwardness, as she tied her trainer with stiff fingers. She saw Malfoy from the corner of her eye. Still there; not moving, not saying anything. Carefully, Ginny put her foot down and stood on it. Thankfully, it didn’t hurt much.
“You okay?”
If she hadn’t known better, she’d think that Malfoy sounded concerned.
“Yeah, fine,” she answered without any heat, looking at her grazed palms.
Suddenly Malfoy was next to her. “Here, let me,” he said and grabbed her wrists. “Should get them cleaned first.” He took his wand out and uttered a cleaning charm. “Sorry, can’t do any healing charms. Let’s get you to the infirmary.”
As he released her hands she raised her eyes to Malfoy‘s. His gaze held apprehension and uncertainty, but there was also challenge, which must have been why she stood up straighter and nodded. They headed off towards the closest side-door.
“So, what’s really going on?” Ginny asked almost conversationally, walking beside him towards the castle.
“What do you mean?”
The words were cold, but suddenly Ginny was hit with a realisation that this was how Draco Malfoy sounded when he was nervous.
“You being nice. And to me of all people. Is it a bet? Decided to make me fall in love with you?”
Ginny wasn’t trying to shock him, but to her great amusement, the boy tripped.
“Don’t be ridiculous!” He had finally turned to look at her and his gaze clearly said that she was crazy.
Ginny shrugged, feeling slightly foolish. “Well you must admit that it’s a bit suspicious – first, you talking politely, and now helping me. Although that last I could write it off as some glitch in your thoroughly evil character, if you like. You know, you saw a girl fall and felt compelled to help her. Totally uncharacteristic for you, of course, but understandable. Though it doesn’t explain you trying to have a conversation with me before that.”
“Trying? I did talk to you; it’s not my fault you’ve not been raised to react properly to a simple cordiality.”
“You’re not going to tell me then, are you?”
“Is it really so unlikely that I’d just want to talk to you? I was walking, you were jogging. I was bored, the sun was shining and I made small talk. To you. You’re neither ugly nor stupid, why wouldn’t I want to talk to you?”
“But apparently I look stupid enough for you to try and pull one on me.”
Draco sighed. “Fine, you look slightly stupider than you think you are. And since you regard yourself as pretty damn genius…”
Ginny lost her fight to a smile and she knew it would be heard in her voice. “Was that a compliment I just heard?”
“I don’t know, was it?” Thankfully, there was an answering smile in his voice too, although it might be triumphant. Ginny didn’t have the courage to check.
“Alright, here we are.” Ginny stopped just inside the Hogwarts doors. “I’ll be off to see Madam Pomfrey then.... Unless you wanna tell me the truth.“
Malfoy shook his head. “Not today.” His smile turned somewhat crooked with uncertainty. “See you around?”
“Alright?” She had no idea why it had sounded like a question. Blasted Merlin! Ginny frowned, turned around and almost ran towards the infirmary.
End of March, Monday
It had been near impossible to see Ginny during the weekend, unless he wished to go out into the bitingly cold Scottish wind whistling its fury outside. The crazy bint went jogging every morning almost without fail. Wisely Draco stayed inside and refused to even ogle her route from the Astronomy tower as he had done almost every morning since reading her entry about Saturdays.
The thing was that in the end, he didn’t have the guts to find out if she still checked the diary. Because if she still did, then what would he have said, sorry I gave up on you? Sorry I didn’t have the patience to wait for more than two weeks? These things were better explained in person.
Besides, Draco had decided that he wasn’t interested in an anonymous relationship via quill and ink anymore. If he ever wanted to have a chance to be friends with this girl then he doubted that faking to still be at Durmstrang (or undertaking any other vague fibbing) would be the way to persuade her. And admitting to being here… The idea didn’t bear thinking.
So now the plan was to introduce himself into her life by small doses. The first planned (positive!) contact had taken place the previous Thursday, then the current weekend apart was designed to let her forget about all the weirdness, and then the second contact was supposed to happen this Tuesday or Wednesday. Draco’s head was full of different scenarios of when and how to approach the girl, but knowing his luck, none would pan out.
End of March, Tuesday
“I said hello,” Malfoy repeated with a widening grin.
“I heard you. What do you want?”
“The same thing I wanted the last time.”
“Just to talk? Do I really look like an idiot?” Despite herself Ginny was starting to enjoy the conversation, but for some reason it also made her angry.
“Only when you are pissed off.”
“Shut up, you arse!” She punched his arm.
“Ow! It’s a public hallway; you shouldn’t hit people in places with a lot of witnesses.”
“You gonna tell on me? Run to Professor Snape sobbing about a big mean Weasley girl hitting you?”
Malfoy’s smile widened again. “More like hitting on me.”
“What?” That threw Ginny again. “Are you flirting with me? It is a bet isn’t it?” Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“Yes to one of your questions. You want to hazard a guess which one?”
“Push off, Malfoy! People are starting to notice,” she half whispered. “Wait! That’s it, isn’t it? You want to ruin my reputation!”
“What reputation? Ow!” He cringed. “Mind your fists, Weasley! Ouch! Where did you learn to punch like that anyway?”
“I’ve got six brothers, you moron!”
“You can count to six? And how do you even tell them apa- OW!”
Thursday
“Hello, my dear, dear Ms Weasley.”
Ginny jumped from surprise. “Don’t smile like that, you look like an idiot.”
“You were a lot friendlier the other day. Something happen?”
“I got to beat you up last time.”
“Ah, so it is physical activity that excites you, is it?” he leered, obviously hinting again at her having a bad reputation.
Although ridiculous, the dig still incensed her to a degree of her not knowing how to respond at first. Anything she came up with sounded defensive. In the end she just said harshly, “You know, Malfoy, making faces won’t make you look any smarter.”
“My, my, you are in a snit today, aren’t you?”
The Slytherin was still smiling but she could see that she’d managed to dent his patronisingly superior calm.
“What the hell do you want from me, again? More fodder for your nasty rumours?”
Her apparent anger had finally penetrated - the smile vanished and a tiny crease appeared between his eyebrows.
“Fine. It was a stupid joke.” He shrugged. “But I haven’t started any rumours.”
“Right. Because you’re such a nice person.” Ginny nodded.
“You don’t even know me.” The boy said, looking at her as if it was she in the wrong. The berk had arrogance to play hurt.
“Nor do I want to.”
For a moment he looked as if would either hex her or turn around and leave, but then he took a deep breath, released it and asked slowly, “What the hell have I ever done to you?”
“You mean besides breathing?” she shot back quickly, lifting her chin.
Why was she even here still? Ginny cursed her bad luck that made her stay later for her detention overseeing duties. Quickly she turned to her things and stuffed her books back into the bag. Malfoy observed her jerky movements only for a beat before coming to a decision.
“Look-“ he started, but she cut him off as she suddenly realised that Malfoy coming into this secluded area of the castle by chance was highly unlikely.
“How the hell did you know that I would be here alone so late? You are not a prefect.”
She capped her inkbottle and closed the rucksack.
“I have my ways.”
Huffing at his none-answer she wanted to move past him but the Slytherin stepped in front of her.
“Look,” he stopped, looking at her intently. “I’d really appreciate it if you told me the truth now, Weasley. Your hot and cold routine is getting old really fast. What is it exactly that makes me so disagreeable to you? Is it because of that skirt incident in the library? Because although I don’t deny acting less than gentlemanly that time, it was actually Goyle who used the Sticking Charm.”
Ginny adopted a surprised mien. “What? You telling on your friends now?”
“You’re just going to turn anything I say against me, aren’t you?”
“I don’t have to. Anything you say already works against you.”
“I see.”
There was a long pause during which Ginny had really no idea what to do, so she opted for meaningless and as she already knew pointless, “Get out of my way.”
“I know you’ve hated me from the moment you laid your eyes on me, Weasley. Care to tell me why?”
“Long before that actually.” Ginny shrugged. “Are you going to let me leave now?”
“Not before you tell me why.”
“What does it even matter, Malfoy? Frankly, I find it quite difficult to believe that you actually care about what I think.”
“Humour me, Weasley. Imagine I’m the sort of person to care about what others think of me. Tell me why.”
“What for? So you can revise your half-cocked plan?”
“Yes.”
Ginny’s eyebrows rose. “So you admit to having an ulterior motive here?”
Malfoy smiled slightly. “I’ve never denied having one. Alright, let’s make a deal then. You tell me why you hate me – and I want a real reason now not the latest Hogwarts rumour of me drowning cute little puppies – and I will reveal my ‘ulterior motive’.”
“You will? You’ll tell me the real reason you’re stalking me?”
“Yes. The real reason.”
Ginny blinked. “You’re not going to deny stalking me?”
“Would you believe me if I did?”
“The bet’s still on then?”
“There is no bet, Weasley!” Malfoy exploded. “Merlin! Is it because I’m a Malfoy? Or because you believe I’m a Death Eater? Because I can prove that I am not. Or is it something else? What?”
The Slytherin’s frustration was so genuine, so… so honest, that it snapped all of Ginny’s self-control.
“It’s that you’re a lying bastard! You’re a stalking, vile Death Eater from the pit of dark wizardry! From the moment you stepped into this castle you’ve been telling nasty stories, spouting your pureblood rubbish and terrorising younger kids! You act snotty even to the teachers, you don’t respect anyone and you act like everyone else is beneath you! You are just like your father—“
“I am nothing like my father! You have no idea what you’re talking about! Yes, he was a Death Eater, yes, he wasn’t a particularly nice person, but you know absolutely nothing about me. Or. My. Life—“
“I know enough! You’re a Malfoy and that’s more than I’ve ever wished to know!”
“You arrogant self-righteous-“
“What the hell do you want-“
“-ignorant, selfish and stubborn girl!”
“-from me? Can’t you just leave-“
“That is not the girl I got to know! Go back to your-”
“-me alone, you bastard!”
”-little ignorant friends, I don’t bloody-”
“Are you deaf, blind, challenged or just a moron?”
“-want to have anything to do with you!”
“ Then leave me alone, I said!”
“Fine!”
“Fine!”
Neither moved.
“You don’t know anything about me either,” Ginny said then. It was as much a concession as he was going to get.
“You’re wrong, I know a little about you and you know a little about me too.”
Ginny sighed exhaustedly. “What the hell are you talking about now?”
“The diary. I didn’t want to tell you like this, but you have left me no choice.”
“The diary? What about it? It’s ancient history, isn’t it?”
Malfoy looked taken aback. “Ancient history? Is that what it is to you then? It that why you stopped writing in it?”
“It was a stupid book and I was stupid to even take it up. Of course it’s ancient history! I don’t even have it any more!”
For a moment it seemed that Malfoy was struck dumb and relishing in her apparent triumph, Ginny added, “I was a fool to write into some silly old book just because it talked back. I have real friends now.”
With that she shouldered past the boy and out the door.
Second week of April
It was only after several hours of hurt raving later that Draco wizened up to the unfortunate fact that he truly was a moron. Of course Ginny must have been talking about her first diary experience, not their pen pal books, because how could she have known he was referring to the Pen-Pal Project? The things she had said about his father seemed to be out of proportion too, so finally he decided to ignore the security measures and write to his mother.
Almost two weeks later Draco finally decided to approach Ginny again. During one of the Gryffindor Quidditch practices he sneaked into the girls’ dressing room and pinched her broom maintenance kit. The main glitch in his plan was that in his experience girls usually stuck together and it was quite possible that he’d have to just send a ransom note later to get her alone, but this time, he got lucky.
Either she hadn’t noticed her loss yet or the others were in a hurry so Ginny had sent them on to search for the thing alone, but whatever the case, after about twenty minutes the last of her team mates had gone.
Draco stepped up to the front door and knocked.
“You can come in, I’m decent.”
Draco did and was gratified to see Ginny’s hands freeze in her still damp hair and her eyes narrow into slits.
“What do you want? You bastard! You took my kit, didn't you?”
Draco leaned one shoulder into the locker and shrugged with the other. “I needed to talk to you.”
“And that justifies stealing how?”
“You’re going to get it back, I promise. Just hear me out first, okay?”
“Anyone ever tell you that girls don’t actually fall for boys who don’t know when to leave off?”
Malfoy sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, I already told you, there's no bet, alright? Just shut up and listen. It’s about that blasted diary.”
“That again? I already told you, I don’t care about-”
Draco raised his palm and to his surprise she did shut up. “No. Not that diary. Until recently I didn’t even know more about it than what you told me yourself.”
“I’ve told you nothing! But I didn’t need to, did I? Of course you know everything about it! You even taunted me about it once.”
“I wasn’t taunting. I was merely asking… you. About…” Draco suddenly felt his mouth dry up. He swallowed. “It’s about… Well, the Triwizard Pen-Pal Program. I took a part in it and I think. I’ve been writing to you. Brat.”
For a moment Ginny just stood there, fingering the strap of her backpack on the bench.
“What?”
“You heard me.” Draco felt himself grow even tenser and involuntarily his lips arranged themselves into an arrogant smirk.
“You're a liar,” the girl said quietly.
“No. Just Git,” he said, watching as Ginny's acute disappointment melted into fury.
“You bastard! You planned it that way, didn't you?”
“Right.” Draco let out a bark of laughter. “Of course I did,” he said bitterly and left.
Next week, Saturday
Draco Malfoy’s ogling was turning into a thing. It was bad because given how it was going, someone was bound to notice soon, and that would be bad, but what was even worse was that it was entirely mutual. To Ginny, the Slytherin’s gaze looked intense but unreadable. She on her end felt confused, but even more than that Ginny felt hurt. Betrayed. To be fair though, was there anything to be hurt over, really?
What did the Slytherin actually do to her? So he wrote to her. Had he known who she was all this time? She supposed not. And when he found out… When did he find out anyway? And how? And the most important question – why hadn’t he written about that the first thing he found out about it? That would’ve been an honourable thing to do, wouldn’t it?
Her musings were interrupted.
“Montague and Pucey are definitely up to something!” Harry exclaimed.
Ginny blinked. She’d been so immersed in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed she was no longer alone in this particular corner of the Common Room. Thankfully the large armchair had its back to her brother and his two friends. They usually didn't involve her in their secrets, and she was a curious girl.
“Something happened between dinner and now that I'm not aware of?” Ron asked, undoubtedly having probably heard about the supposed evil plans several times that day already.
“You saw them whispering all through dinner, didn't you?” Harry answered. “And during the group work in Herbology too. Parkinson and Malfoy are probably in on it.”
“Isn't them keeping to themselves kind of the norm?” Hermione asked in a tone that told Ginny she was actually doing something else. Probably homework.
“Yes, but not like that.”
“Like what?” Hermione asked again, absently.
“You mean the old document they were studying between them?” Ron’s voice. “It could have been anything.”
“It looked like a map!”
“Yeah? When Pucey showed it to Malfoy during Herbology I thought I saw some kind of coat of arms actually. Or a watermark they put on the top of letters sometimes.”
“Could be a letter then, but a very old one. And from whom?”
“Pucey’s dad? Looked too old to be addressed to any of them, but not ancient enough to be to their grands’,” Ron offered.
“Except for the coat of arms or whatever there was. You know what? It could really have been anything,” Hermione dismissed the whole world worth of conspiracies, most probably flailing with her quill. “So they had some kind of letter. Maybe Pucey's uncle finally kicked it and he was showing off the will.”
Or he was showing off even before the uncle kicked it! Ginny enthused mentally.
“How do you know Pucey's uncle’s dying?” She could hear a frown in Ron's voice.
“Oh, that was just an example, Ronald!” Hermione said impatiently.
Hermione had been on her holier-than-thou-horse for the past three days and Ginny supposed that she and Ron still hadn't completely recovered from their latest tiff.
“I need to see that letter!” Harry said and Ginny heard some kind of rustling as if he was rummaging in his school bag.
“Harry!” Hermione said in half a whisper, “Put that away, somebody will see!”
Ginny's interest peaked, but the next sentence already told her what the thing was.
“Here they are, coming up from the dungeons,” Harry whispered. “I wonder what they are planning?”
“They are not Death Eaters, Harry,” Hermione pointed out.
“But their fathers are,” Ron interjected. “What if they got an assignment from You-Know-Who that has something to do with Hogwarts? Or Harry?”
The debate went on, but in the end it seemed that Ron was arguing for the sake of arguing and Harry didn't care what anyone else thought just like always. In the end it wound down simply because the three Slytherins sitting around the table in the library didn’t seem all-together very sinister.
Second week of May, Monday
After the eavesdropped conversation she started paying even more attention to Draco Malfoy. She didn't shy away from making eye contact with him either and with astonishment she realised that her confusion was shared. It was disconcerting – to experience the busy corridors with their hustle and bustle fade away from around them, falling deep, deep into the grey with specks of gold. Like now…
And suddenly it was gone, the bubble of grey and wonderful, the world whooshed back and Draco – Malfoy was plastered to the wall, blinking dazedly. The next second though he was up on his feet, his wand firing into the gaggle of fifth year Ravenclaws and Jeffers was on his knees, holding on to his ears and moaning pitifully. His mates, staring daggers at the Slytherin, helped their mate up and half-carried him away; presumably to the Infirmary.
“Makes you wonder, huh?” someone said to her left.
“What?” Ginny turned to Natalie.
“I said,” she repeated louder. “Makes you wonder who to feel sorry for Malfoy or Jeffers.”
“Jeffers started it.”
“Yes, but it’s Malfoy!”
“Yes, but Jeffers is one nasty little bugger,” she answered, using her brother’s words to describe the known bully before she even realised what she was doing.
Suddenly, Ginny was amazed at herself for not noticing it earlier. It was true that Malfoy hexed younger students on occasion, but mostly it was older trouble-makers. She could clearly see now how his proud conduct invited nasty remarks and covert hexes from all over the school. Undoubtedly, Malfoy’s notoriety alone was enough for some, and his arrogance, racist stories and such only added to the temptation.
Ginny groaned softly.
“Did you say something?” Natalie asked.
“No. But I think… I need to talk to Hermione.”
The same evening
“So you think that you can’t fool the diary?” she asked again, shifting on Hermione’s bed.
“Ginny, you’ve asked me three times already! I can’t be one hundred percent sure, but I suppose no, I don’t think you can unless you’re Dumbledore or someone of equal might. What did he write now that’s tied you into such knots? You’ve not been yourself lately.”
Ginny snorted.
That was of course the wrong reaction, since instantly, Hermione turned to her, concerned.
“What happened? Are you alright?”
Ginny sighed and told her. She didn’t tell Hermione Git’s name, but she did say that she found out that he was from a very conventional pureblood background and quite possibly a total git in real life. In the end she even showed Hermione some of the Git’s entries to ask the older girl’s opinion.
“So you think I should give him a chance?” she asked, yawning after a longwinded discussion.
Hermione sighed. “I believe that everyone deserves a chance.”
“You say that now,” Ginny grumbled to herself. “Fine. But I’m gonna blame it on you if it goes terribly wrong.”
The girls smiled and went to bed.
End of March, Thursday
“Good afternoon, Ginny.”
“What do you want?” Ginny barked as she almost jumped up from her crouching position, her shoelace still untied.
“Don’t be rude, Ginny. I’m just trying to have a conversation.” Malfoy’s neutrally polite tone and calling her by her actual name were downright shocking.
“With me?” Wind was turning her wisps of her hair around her head in the most annoying manner. She tried to brush it behind her ear, but it was back in her face the next second.
Malfoy stood up from the low wall he’d been leaning on and looked around. “As it seems that we are the only two people here, I’d say yes.”
“Phew!” Ginny swept over her forehead as if wiping off sweat. “Good, you’re turning mildly insulting again, I was getting worried.”
“Would you have helped my poor sickly self to the infirmary?”
The honest amusement on his face looked so foreign that for a second Ginny had no response.
“Not even if you were dying,” she said then, wholly realizing how predictable her answer was.
“Good to know that the Earth’s still turning,” he answered back and smiled.
Ginny’s eyes widened. Suddenly, Draco Malfoy seemed almost human and what’s worse – it made him look handsome! The bastard’s utilizing his charm, is he? she thought, but she couldn’t help but be a bit charmed nonetheless. Especially since there was some weird, unfathomable tension to his demeanour, almost as if he were anxious. Why that would be though, she had no idea, but it made her testy.
“What exactly do you want, Malfoy? Trying to annoy me to death? I was having a good morning up until now.”
Slowly the traces of amusement evaporated from his face and the usual biting tone was back in his voice. “Is the concept of small talk so difficult for you to grasp? Should I draw diagrams?”
“You know what?” Ginny said after a short pause. “This conversation isn’t even interesting anymore.” She shrugged and turned back towards the castle. “Novelty’s worn off.” Her morning jog was over anyway. It was time to hit the showers.
“Be careful with your shoelaces there,” she heard him call mockingly just a moment before tripping and landing painfully on all fours.
“You shitbag!” Ginny shouted as she jumped up, her cheeks burning.
To her surprise instead of smirking with glee, Malfoy was staring at her angrily, his upturned face full of challenge.
“You tripped me,” she said, sounding less certain than she wished.
Malfoy’s lips formed a customary scowl. “Yes, because how could untied shoe laces possibly be at fault when an idle Slytherin is anywhere in the vicinity, right?”
He didn’t have a wand in his hand.
“Stupid frozen mud,” she muttered and leaned on the stone wall.
She raised her foot to tie the laces at last. Her palms hurt and her left ankle ached a bit. There was no way she was going to squat down in front of that bastard. The silence stretched into awkwardness, as she tied her trainer with stiff fingers. She saw Malfoy from the corner of her eye. Still there; not moving, not saying anything. Carefully, Ginny put her foot down and stood on it. Thankfully, it didn’t hurt much.
“You okay?”
If she hadn’t known better, she’d think that Malfoy sounded concerned.
“Yeah, fine,” she answered without any heat, looking at her grazed palms.
Suddenly Malfoy was next to her. “Here, let me,” he said and grabbed her wrists. “Should get them cleaned first.” He took his wand out and uttered a cleaning charm. “Sorry, can’t do any healing charms. Let’s get you to the infirmary.”
As he released her hands she raised her eyes to Malfoy‘s. His gaze held apprehension and uncertainty, but there was also challenge, which must have been why she stood up straighter and nodded. They headed off towards the closest side-door.
“So, what’s really going on?” Ginny asked almost conversationally, walking beside him towards the castle.
“What do you mean?”
The words were cold, but suddenly Ginny was hit with a realisation that this was how Draco Malfoy sounded when he was nervous.
“You being nice. And to me of all people. Is it a bet? Decided to make me fall in love with you?”
Ginny wasn’t trying to shock him, but to her great amusement, the boy tripped.
“Don’t be ridiculous!” He had finally turned to look at her and his gaze clearly said that she was crazy.
Ginny shrugged, feeling slightly foolish. “Well you must admit that it’s a bit suspicious – first, you talking politely, and now helping me. Although that last I could write it off as some glitch in your thoroughly evil character, if you like. You know, you saw a girl fall and felt compelled to help her. Totally uncharacteristic for you, of course, but understandable. Though it doesn’t explain you trying to have a conversation with me before that.”
“Trying? I did talk to you; it’s not my fault you’ve not been raised to react properly to a simple cordiality.”
“You’re not going to tell me then, are you?”
“Is it really so unlikely that I’d just want to talk to you? I was walking, you were jogging. I was bored, the sun was shining and I made small talk. To you. You’re neither ugly nor stupid, why wouldn’t I want to talk to you?”
“But apparently I look stupid enough for you to try and pull one on me.”
Draco sighed. “Fine, you look slightly stupider than you think you are. And since you regard yourself as pretty damn genius…”
Ginny lost her fight to a smile and she knew it would be heard in her voice. “Was that a compliment I just heard?”
“I don’t know, was it?” Thankfully, there was an answering smile in his voice too, although it might be triumphant. Ginny didn’t have the courage to check.
“Alright, here we are.” Ginny stopped just inside the Hogwarts doors. “I’ll be off to see Madam Pomfrey then.... Unless you wanna tell me the truth.“
Malfoy shook his head. “Not today.” His smile turned somewhat crooked with uncertainty. “See you around?”
“Alright?” She had no idea why it had sounded like a question. Blasted Merlin! Ginny frowned, turned around and almost ran towards the infirmary.
End of March, Monday
It had been near impossible to see Ginny during the weekend, unless he wished to go out into the bitingly cold Scottish wind whistling its fury outside. The crazy bint went jogging every morning almost without fail. Wisely Draco stayed inside and refused to even ogle her route from the Astronomy tower as he had done almost every morning since reading her entry about Saturdays.
The thing was that in the end, he didn’t have the guts to find out if she still checked the diary. Because if she still did, then what would he have said, sorry I gave up on you? Sorry I didn’t have the patience to wait for more than two weeks? These things were better explained in person.
Besides, Draco had decided that he wasn’t interested in an anonymous relationship via quill and ink anymore. If he ever wanted to have a chance to be friends with this girl then he doubted that faking to still be at Durmstrang (or undertaking any other vague fibbing) would be the way to persuade her. And admitting to being here… The idea didn’t bear thinking.
So now the plan was to introduce himself into her life by small doses. The first planned (positive!) contact had taken place the previous Thursday, then the current weekend apart was designed to let her forget about all the weirdness, and then the second contact was supposed to happen this Tuesday or Wednesday. Draco’s head was full of different scenarios of when and how to approach the girl, but knowing his luck, none would pan out.
End of March, Tuesday
“I said hello,” Malfoy repeated with a widening grin.
“I heard you. What do you want?”
“The same thing I wanted the last time.”
“Just to talk? Do I really look like an idiot?” Despite herself Ginny was starting to enjoy the conversation, but for some reason it also made her angry.
“Only when you are pissed off.”
“Shut up, you arse!” She punched his arm.
“Ow! It’s a public hallway; you shouldn’t hit people in places with a lot of witnesses.”
“You gonna tell on me? Run to Professor Snape sobbing about a big mean Weasley girl hitting you?”
Malfoy’s smile widened again. “More like hitting on me.”
“What?” That threw Ginny again. “Are you flirting with me? It is a bet isn’t it?” Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“Yes to one of your questions. You want to hazard a guess which one?”
“Push off, Malfoy! People are starting to notice,” she half whispered. “Wait! That’s it, isn’t it? You want to ruin my reputation!”
“What reputation? Ow!” He cringed. “Mind your fists, Weasley! Ouch! Where did you learn to punch like that anyway?”
“I’ve got six brothers, you moron!”
“You can count to six? And how do you even tell them apa- OW!”
Thursday
“Hello, my dear, dear Ms Weasley.”
Ginny jumped from surprise. “Don’t smile like that, you look like an idiot.”
“You were a lot friendlier the other day. Something happen?”
“I got to beat you up last time.”
“Ah, so it is physical activity that excites you, is it?” he leered, obviously hinting again at her having a bad reputation.
Although ridiculous, the dig still incensed her to a degree of her not knowing how to respond at first. Anything she came up with sounded defensive. In the end she just said harshly, “You know, Malfoy, making faces won’t make you look any smarter.”
“My, my, you are in a snit today, aren’t you?”
The Slytherin was still smiling but she could see that she’d managed to dent his patronisingly superior calm.
“What the hell do you want from me, again? More fodder for your nasty rumours?”
Her apparent anger had finally penetrated - the smile vanished and a tiny crease appeared between his eyebrows.
“Fine. It was a stupid joke.” He shrugged. “But I haven’t started any rumours.”
“Right. Because you’re such a nice person.” Ginny nodded.
“You don’t even know me.” The boy said, looking at her as if it was she in the wrong. The berk had arrogance to play hurt.
“Nor do I want to.”
For a moment he looked as if would either hex her or turn around and leave, but then he took a deep breath, released it and asked slowly, “What the hell have I ever done to you?”
“You mean besides breathing?” she shot back quickly, lifting her chin.
Why was she even here still? Ginny cursed her bad luck that made her stay later for her detention overseeing duties. Quickly she turned to her things and stuffed her books back into the bag. Malfoy observed her jerky movements only for a beat before coming to a decision.
“Look-“ he started, but she cut him off as she suddenly realised that Malfoy coming into this secluded area of the castle by chance was highly unlikely.
“How the hell did you know that I would be here alone so late? You are not a prefect.”
She capped her inkbottle and closed the rucksack.
“I have my ways.”
Huffing at his none-answer she wanted to move past him but the Slytherin stepped in front of her.
“Look,” he stopped, looking at her intently. “I’d really appreciate it if you told me the truth now, Weasley. Your hot and cold routine is getting old really fast. What is it exactly that makes me so disagreeable to you? Is it because of that skirt incident in the library? Because although I don’t deny acting less than gentlemanly that time, it was actually Goyle who used the Sticking Charm.”
Ginny adopted a surprised mien. “What? You telling on your friends now?”
“You’re just going to turn anything I say against me, aren’t you?”
“I don’t have to. Anything you say already works against you.”
“I see.”
There was a long pause during which Ginny had really no idea what to do, so she opted for meaningless and as she already knew pointless, “Get out of my way.”
“I know you’ve hated me from the moment you laid your eyes on me, Weasley. Care to tell me why?”
“Long before that actually.” Ginny shrugged. “Are you going to let me leave now?”
“Not before you tell me why.”
“What does it even matter, Malfoy? Frankly, I find it quite difficult to believe that you actually care about what I think.”
“Humour me, Weasley. Imagine I’m the sort of person to care about what others think of me. Tell me why.”
“What for? So you can revise your half-cocked plan?”
“Yes.”
Ginny’s eyebrows rose. “So you admit to having an ulterior motive here?”
Malfoy smiled slightly. “I’ve never denied having one. Alright, let’s make a deal then. You tell me why you hate me – and I want a real reason now not the latest Hogwarts rumour of me drowning cute little puppies – and I will reveal my ‘ulterior motive’.”
“You will? You’ll tell me the real reason you’re stalking me?”
“Yes. The real reason.”
Ginny blinked. “You’re not going to deny stalking me?”
“Would you believe me if I did?”
“The bet’s still on then?”
“There is no bet, Weasley!” Malfoy exploded. “Merlin! Is it because I’m a Malfoy? Or because you believe I’m a Death Eater? Because I can prove that I am not. Or is it something else? What?”
The Slytherin’s frustration was so genuine, so… so honest, that it snapped all of Ginny’s self-control.
“It’s that you’re a lying bastard! You’re a stalking, vile Death Eater from the pit of dark wizardry! From the moment you stepped into this castle you’ve been telling nasty stories, spouting your pureblood rubbish and terrorising younger kids! You act snotty even to the teachers, you don’t respect anyone and you act like everyone else is beneath you! You are just like your father—“
“I am nothing like my father! You have no idea what you’re talking about! Yes, he was a Death Eater, yes, he wasn’t a particularly nice person, but you know absolutely nothing about me. Or. My. Life—“
“I know enough! You’re a Malfoy and that’s more than I’ve ever wished to know!”
“You arrogant self-righteous-“
“What the hell do you want-“
“-ignorant, selfish and stubborn girl!”
“-from me? Can’t you just leave-“
“That is not the girl I got to know! Go back to your-”
“-me alone, you bastard!”
”-little ignorant friends, I don’t bloody-”
“Are you deaf, blind, challenged or just a moron?”
“-want to have anything to do with you!”
“ Then leave me alone, I said!”
“Fine!”
“Fine!”
Neither moved.
“You don’t know anything about me either,” Ginny said then. It was as much a concession as he was going to get.
“You’re wrong, I know a little about you and you know a little about me too.”
Ginny sighed exhaustedly. “What the hell are you talking about now?”
“The diary. I didn’t want to tell you like this, but you have left me no choice.”
“The diary? What about it? It’s ancient history, isn’t it?”
Malfoy looked taken aback. “Ancient history? Is that what it is to you then? It that why you stopped writing in it?”
“It was a stupid book and I was stupid to even take it up. Of course it’s ancient history! I don’t even have it any more!”
For a moment it seemed that Malfoy was struck dumb and relishing in her apparent triumph, Ginny added, “I was a fool to write into some silly old book just because it talked back. I have real friends now.”
With that she shouldered past the boy and out the door.
Second week of April
It was only after several hours of hurt raving later that Draco wizened up to the unfortunate fact that he truly was a moron. Of course Ginny must have been talking about her first diary experience, not their pen pal books, because how could she have known he was referring to the Pen-Pal Project? The things she had said about his father seemed to be out of proportion too, so finally he decided to ignore the security measures and write to his mother.
Almost two weeks later Draco finally decided to approach Ginny again. During one of the Gryffindor Quidditch practices he sneaked into the girls’ dressing room and pinched her broom maintenance kit. The main glitch in his plan was that in his experience girls usually stuck together and it was quite possible that he’d have to just send a ransom note later to get her alone, but this time, he got lucky.
Either she hadn’t noticed her loss yet or the others were in a hurry so Ginny had sent them on to search for the thing alone, but whatever the case, after about twenty minutes the last of her team mates had gone.
Draco stepped up to the front door and knocked.
“You can come in, I’m decent.”
Draco did and was gratified to see Ginny’s hands freeze in her still damp hair and her eyes narrow into slits.
“What do you want? You bastard! You took my kit, didn't you?”
Draco leaned one shoulder into the locker and shrugged with the other. “I needed to talk to you.”
“And that justifies stealing how?”
“You’re going to get it back, I promise. Just hear me out first, okay?”
“Anyone ever tell you that girls don’t actually fall for boys who don’t know when to leave off?”
Malfoy sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, I already told you, there's no bet, alright? Just shut up and listen. It’s about that blasted diary.”
“That again? I already told you, I don’t care about-”
Draco raised his palm and to his surprise she did shut up. “No. Not that diary. Until recently I didn’t even know more about it than what you told me yourself.”
“I’ve told you nothing! But I didn’t need to, did I? Of course you know everything about it! You even taunted me about it once.”
“I wasn’t taunting. I was merely asking… you. About…” Draco suddenly felt his mouth dry up. He swallowed. “It’s about… Well, the Triwizard Pen-Pal Program. I took a part in it and I think. I’ve been writing to you. Brat.”
For a moment Ginny just stood there, fingering the strap of her backpack on the bench.
“What?”
“You heard me.” Draco felt himself grow even tenser and involuntarily his lips arranged themselves into an arrogant smirk.
“You're a liar,” the girl said quietly.
“No. Just Git,” he said, watching as Ginny's acute disappointment melted into fury.
“You bastard! You planned it that way, didn't you?”
“Right.” Draco let out a bark of laughter. “Of course I did,” he said bitterly and left.
Next week, Saturday
Draco Malfoy’s ogling was turning into a thing. It was bad because given how it was going, someone was bound to notice soon, and that would be bad, but what was even worse was that it was entirely mutual. To Ginny, the Slytherin’s gaze looked intense but unreadable. She on her end felt confused, but even more than that Ginny felt hurt. Betrayed. To be fair though, was there anything to be hurt over, really?
What did the Slytherin actually do to her? So he wrote to her. Had he known who she was all this time? She supposed not. And when he found out… When did he find out anyway? And how? And the most important question – why hadn’t he written about that the first thing he found out about it? That would’ve been an honourable thing to do, wouldn’t it?
Her musings were interrupted.
“Montague and Pucey are definitely up to something!” Harry exclaimed.
Ginny blinked. She’d been so immersed in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed she was no longer alone in this particular corner of the Common Room. Thankfully the large armchair had its back to her brother and his two friends. They usually didn't involve her in their secrets, and she was a curious girl.
“Something happened between dinner and now that I'm not aware of?” Ron asked, undoubtedly having probably heard about the supposed evil plans several times that day already.
“You saw them whispering all through dinner, didn't you?” Harry answered. “And during the group work in Herbology too. Parkinson and Malfoy are probably in on it.”
“Isn't them keeping to themselves kind of the norm?” Hermione asked in a tone that told Ginny she was actually doing something else. Probably homework.
“Yes, but not like that.”
“Like what?” Hermione asked again, absently.
“You mean the old document they were studying between them?” Ron’s voice. “It could have been anything.”
“It looked like a map!”
“Yeah? When Pucey showed it to Malfoy during Herbology I thought I saw some kind of coat of arms actually. Or a watermark they put on the top of letters sometimes.”
“Could be a letter then, but a very old one. And from whom?”
“Pucey’s dad? Looked too old to be addressed to any of them, but not ancient enough to be to their grands’,” Ron offered.
“Except for the coat of arms or whatever there was. You know what? It could really have been anything,” Hermione dismissed the whole world worth of conspiracies, most probably flailing with her quill. “So they had some kind of letter. Maybe Pucey's uncle finally kicked it and he was showing off the will.”
Or he was showing off even before the uncle kicked it! Ginny enthused mentally.
“How do you know Pucey's uncle’s dying?” She could hear a frown in Ron's voice.
“Oh, that was just an example, Ronald!” Hermione said impatiently.
Hermione had been on her holier-than-thou-horse for the past three days and Ginny supposed that she and Ron still hadn't completely recovered from their latest tiff.
“I need to see that letter!” Harry said and Ginny heard some kind of rustling as if he was rummaging in his school bag.
“Harry!” Hermione said in half a whisper, “Put that away, somebody will see!”
Ginny's interest peaked, but the next sentence already told her what the thing was.
“Here they are, coming up from the dungeons,” Harry whispered. “I wonder what they are planning?”
“They are not Death Eaters, Harry,” Hermione pointed out.
“But their fathers are,” Ron interjected. “What if they got an assignment from You-Know-Who that has something to do with Hogwarts? Or Harry?”
The debate went on, but in the end it seemed that Ron was arguing for the sake of arguing and Harry didn't care what anyone else thought just like always. In the end it wound down simply because the three Slytherins sitting around the table in the library didn’t seem all-together very sinister.
Second week of May, Monday
After the eavesdropped conversation she started paying even more attention to Draco Malfoy. She didn't shy away from making eye contact with him either and with astonishment she realised that her confusion was shared. It was disconcerting – to experience the busy corridors with their hustle and bustle fade away from around them, falling deep, deep into the grey with specks of gold. Like now…
And suddenly it was gone, the bubble of grey and wonderful, the world whooshed back and Draco – Malfoy was plastered to the wall, blinking dazedly. The next second though he was up on his feet, his wand firing into the gaggle of fifth year Ravenclaws and Jeffers was on his knees, holding on to his ears and moaning pitifully. His mates, staring daggers at the Slytherin, helped their mate up and half-carried him away; presumably to the Infirmary.
“Makes you wonder, huh?” someone said to her left.
“What?” Ginny turned to Natalie.
“I said,” she repeated louder. “Makes you wonder who to feel sorry for Malfoy or Jeffers.”
“Jeffers started it.”
“Yes, but it’s Malfoy!”
“Yes, but Jeffers is one nasty little bugger,” she answered, using her brother’s words to describe the known bully before she even realised what she was doing.
Suddenly, Ginny was amazed at herself for not noticing it earlier. It was true that Malfoy hexed younger students on occasion, but mostly it was older trouble-makers. She could clearly see now how his proud conduct invited nasty remarks and covert hexes from all over the school. Undoubtedly, Malfoy’s notoriety alone was enough for some, and his arrogance, racist stories and such only added to the temptation.
Ginny groaned softly.
“Did you say something?” Natalie asked.
“No. But I think… I need to talk to Hermione.”
The same evening
“So you think that you can’t fool the diary?” she asked again, shifting on Hermione’s bed.
“Ginny, you’ve asked me three times already! I can’t be one hundred percent sure, but I suppose no, I don’t think you can unless you’re Dumbledore or someone of equal might. What did he write now that’s tied you into such knots? You’ve not been yourself lately.”
Ginny snorted.
That was of course the wrong reaction, since instantly, Hermione turned to her, concerned.
“What happened? Are you alright?”
Ginny sighed and told her. She didn’t tell Hermione Git’s name, but she did say that she found out that he was from a very conventional pureblood background and quite possibly a total git in real life. In the end she even showed Hermione some of the Git’s entries to ask the older girl’s opinion.
“So you think I should give him a chance?” she asked, yawning after a longwinded discussion.
Hermione sighed. “I believe that everyone deserves a chance.”
“You say that now,” Ginny grumbled to herself. “Fine. But I’m gonna blame it on you if it goes terribly wrong.”
The girls smiled and went to bed.
Author notes: there are going to be two chapters more i think. please inspire me - review. ;)
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