Reviews: 16 | Table of Contents | - Text Size +
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters found within. If I did, do you really think I'd be writing fanfiction?
~*~
Ginny Weasley didn’t understand. Everything was perfect. Or at least it should have been. However, it seemed that something was wrong, because nothing was happening.
Perhaps I’m missing something, the redhead thought to herself. Let’s see. Quill? It was a new, sharp one, black like all of her quills were. She’d gotten it new for this very purpose during the previous Hogsmeade weekend. Check. Diary? The blue, leather bound book’s empty page lay open before her, almost invitingly. It was Muggle and completely non-magical—or so Hermione had assured her. Check. Inkwell? Black ink. Sensible, and charmed to be spill proof so that if it was knocked over it wouldn’t spill ink all over her belongings. Check. Secluded spot so that no one can see me make a fool of myself, trying to convince myself to write in this bloody book? Ginny glanced around to make sure that no one could directly see her. No...the bookcases block the direct view from any other table. It’s quiet in here. That’s a check.
Letting out a heavy sigh, Ginny glared down at where her quill hovered, just above the paper. All she had to do was lower the quill just slightly and write--that was all. Very simple, she tried to convince herself. But still, she couldn’t convince herself to move a muscle.
Look at yourself, Ginevra Weasley. You’re pathetic. Sixteen years old and you can’t write in a simple diary because of something that happened five years ago! You should be over this by now! Ginny had convinced herself that she was completely over what she thought of “The Incident” from her first year in ever area of her life but this one. Ever since that dreadful year, she had been unable to write down her thoughts in a journal form. She was frozen by the fear—irrational though it may be—that something or someone would write back to her, and control her the way that Tom Riddle had done years before. Hermione had tried to help, she had lectured and nagged for years until finally, at the beginning of this fall term, had given Ginny this journal.
~*~
“Look,” Hermione said firmly as she handed the empty book to Ginny. Ron and Harry had left the group’s compartment on the Hogwarts Express for a few moments to hunt down the snack-cart to buy yet more sweets giving the two girls a few moments alone. “I got it from a Muggle bookstore. There’s no way there could be any enchantments on it unless I put them there myself and you know that I wouldn’t do that to you. And if the impossible happens and something does start writing back to you, bring it directly to me and I’ll help you burn it,” she added with an encouraging smile.
Ginny smiled weakly and quickly shoved the diary into her shoulder bag, “Hermione, I appreciate the thought but—”
“No buts,” Hermione interrupted. I know that you’re afraid, but someday you’ll have to get over this fear. And when will there be a better time? You’ll be in Hogwarts—easily the safest place in England! At least think about it, okay Ginny? Try. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”
“Regret what?” Ron asked, as he and Harry reentered the compartment, each laden down with sweets that Harry had undoubtedly paid for.
“Oh nothing,” Hermione said breezily, “just girl talk.”
“Ah,” both Harry and Ron said at once. Then the two boys quickly changed the topic. Neither one wanted to dwell on what “girl talk” might be.
~*~
With another sigh, Ginny admitted to herself that Hermione was right. She would regret it if she couldn’t get over this irrational fear and this was the safest place that she would ever likely be. She just couldn’t bring herself to take the leap and write the first word.
What if someone’s gotten a hold of it? What if it was enchanted before Hermione bought it. What if it takes over my mind? What if—
“Didn’t your mother teach you to write, Weasley? I don’t see how you’ve gotten through this much of your schooling without that necessary skill,” came the haughty voice of the person that was very high on the list of people that Ginny definitely didn’t want to deal with at the moment.
“What do you want, Malfoy?” she asked resignedly without looking up. I don’t suppose that you’d go away and torture me some other time when I actually have the energy to deal with you? Ginny thought to herself, wishing that she could actually say that to him. However, she knew that if she said that, the young man would only take it as an invitation to torture her more than he had already planned to.
“Must I have an excuse for wanting to spend time with my favorite Weasel?” Draco Malfoy asked with mock sincerity. He pulled the chair directly across from the red haired girl out from underneath the table, turned it around, and sat down on it, his legs straddling the seat and his arms folded on the back of the chair which he also leaned against.
Finally looking up, Ginny raised one eyebrow at the blonde, “Your favorite Weasel? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, look at the rest of your siblings. They’re all rather tall, gangly clods, you’re definitely the prettiest one of the bunch, even if that may not be saying much,” Draco said as if this were the the most obvious fact in the world. “There’s really not much of a choice.”
Ginny just sputtered, not able to produce a fitting comeback that wouldn’t sound completely brainless. What’s Malfoy up to? She thought to herself in bewilderment. This isn’t in character for him. Yes, his comments are insulting and malicious, but the amiable front is completely out of character...
So, do you usually try to make your quill write for you? Normal ones don’t do that you know. You’d need to buy a Quick Quotes...” Draco paused. “Oh...I’m sorry. I forgot. You family has...” here he lowered his voice, “...money issues.”
Ginny’s hand slammed down on the table. “Malfoy! I don’t know what you’re up to, but stop it! Leave me alone!” she hissed so as not to bring Madam Pince down upon her. Though she wouldn’t have minded if the strict librarian would have also punished Malfoy. However, seeing as she was the one being loud, she knew that he would definitely get off easier than her.
Draco shrugged, “Whatever you say, Weasley,” he said as he stood up. He started to walk away, but then paused and threw one last parting comment over his shoulder, “However, if you ever, you know, come into some money, let me know and I’ll help you pick out a good Quick Quotes Quill. I wouldn’t want you to pick out an inferior one simply because you don’t have the fine points of picking out quality, new materials.”
Why, Malfoy! That humongous git! I can’t believe his nerve! And what is up with him?! I don’t understand, this is nothing like his usual taunting. I mean it is but it’s different. What does he think-
Suddenly, Ginny stopped, shocked. Not only had she been thinking the insults in her head, she’d also been frantically writing them out. She hadn’t even realized that she’d started to write. What...just happened? she thought rather dazedly, looking up at Malfoy who was still standing there, watching her with a smirk on his face.
He laughed at Ginny’s expression. “That’s my one,” he said before winking at her then turning and sauntering out of sight.
Ginny heard the doors to the library swoosh open and then closed a moment later. “What just happened?” she asked to herself.
~*~*~
A/N: Well, there we go. My first D/G fic. I’d appreciate it if you’d leave a review, telling me what you thought. I’ve only been obsessed with the pairing for years. I hope you liked it since this plot bunny has been stalking me for months now. There’ll be at least one more chapter of this that explains the title and why Draco was acting the way he was a bit more. I promise you that there’s a reason! Anyway keep an eye out for that!
Oh, and sorry for any horrible spelling errors. I don’t have anyone to beta for me. (I only have one friend that’s into D/G. She’s an online friend that isn’t on much and I didn’t want to wait for her to come online for me to post this.) So if you see any horrible errors, feel free to e-mail them to me at randomness_personified@earthlink.net
Ginny Weasley didn’t understand. Everything was perfect. Or at least it should have been. However, it seemed that something was wrong, because nothing was happening.
Perhaps I’m missing something, the redhead thought to herself. Let’s see. Quill? It was a new, sharp one, black like all of her quills were. She’d gotten it new for this very purpose during the previous Hogsmeade weekend. Check. Diary? The blue, leather bound book’s empty page lay open before her, almost invitingly. It was Muggle and completely non-magical—or so Hermione had assured her. Check. Inkwell? Black ink. Sensible, and charmed to be spill proof so that if it was knocked over it wouldn’t spill ink all over her belongings. Check. Secluded spot so that no one can see me make a fool of myself, trying to convince myself to write in this bloody book? Ginny glanced around to make sure that no one could directly see her. No...the bookcases block the direct view from any other table. It’s quiet in here. That’s a check.
Letting out a heavy sigh, Ginny glared down at where her quill hovered, just above the paper. All she had to do was lower the quill just slightly and write--that was all. Very simple, she tried to convince herself. But still, she couldn’t convince herself to move a muscle.
Look at yourself, Ginevra Weasley. You’re pathetic. Sixteen years old and you can’t write in a simple diary because of something that happened five years ago! You should be over this by now! Ginny had convinced herself that she was completely over what she thought of “The Incident” from her first year in ever area of her life but this one. Ever since that dreadful year, she had been unable to write down her thoughts in a journal form. She was frozen by the fear—irrational though it may be—that something or someone would write back to her, and control her the way that Tom Riddle had done years before. Hermione had tried to help, she had lectured and nagged for years until finally, at the beginning of this fall term, had given Ginny this journal.
“Look,” Hermione said firmly as she handed the empty book to Ginny. Ron and Harry had left the group’s compartment on the Hogwarts Express for a few moments to hunt down the snack-cart to buy yet more sweets giving the two girls a few moments alone. “I got it from a Muggle bookstore. There’s no way there could be any enchantments on it unless I put them there myself and you know that I wouldn’t do that to you. And if the impossible happens and something does start writing back to you, bring it directly to me and I’ll help you burn it,” she added with an encouraging smile.
Ginny smiled weakly and quickly shoved the diary into her shoulder bag, “Hermione, I appreciate the thought but—”
“No buts,” Hermione interrupted. I know that you’re afraid, but someday you’ll have to get over this fear. And when will there be a better time? You’ll be in Hogwarts—easily the safest place in England! At least think about it, okay Ginny? Try. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”
“Regret what?” Ron asked, as he and Harry reentered the compartment, each laden down with sweets that Harry had undoubtedly paid for.
“Oh nothing,” Hermione said breezily, “just girl talk.”
“Ah,” both Harry and Ron said at once. Then the two boys quickly changed the topic. Neither one wanted to dwell on what “girl talk” might be.
With another sigh, Ginny admitted to herself that Hermione was right. She would regret it if she couldn’t get over this irrational fear and this was the safest place that she would ever likely be. She just couldn’t bring herself to take the leap and write the first word.
What if someone’s gotten a hold of it? What if it was enchanted before Hermione bought it. What if it takes over my mind? What if—
“Didn’t your mother teach you to write, Weasley? I don’t see how you’ve gotten through this much of your schooling without that necessary skill,” came the haughty voice of the person that was very high on the list of people that Ginny definitely didn’t want to deal with at the moment.
“What do you want, Malfoy?” she asked resignedly without looking up. I don’t suppose that you’d go away and torture me some other time when I actually have the energy to deal with you? Ginny thought to herself, wishing that she could actually say that to him. However, she knew that if she said that, the young man would only take it as an invitation to torture her more than he had already planned to.
“Must I have an excuse for wanting to spend time with my favorite Weasel?” Draco Malfoy asked with mock sincerity. He pulled the chair directly across from the red haired girl out from underneath the table, turned it around, and sat down on it, his legs straddling the seat and his arms folded on the back of the chair which he also leaned against.
Finally looking up, Ginny raised one eyebrow at the blonde, “Your favorite Weasel? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, look at the rest of your siblings. They’re all rather tall, gangly clods, you’re definitely the prettiest one of the bunch, even if that may not be saying much,” Draco said as if this were the the most obvious fact in the world. “There’s really not much of a choice.”
Ginny just sputtered, not able to produce a fitting comeback that wouldn’t sound completely brainless. What’s Malfoy up to? She thought to herself in bewilderment. This isn’t in character for him. Yes, his comments are insulting and malicious, but the amiable front is completely out of character...
So, do you usually try to make your quill write for you? Normal ones don’t do that you know. You’d need to buy a Quick Quotes...” Draco paused. “Oh...I’m sorry. I forgot. You family has...” here he lowered his voice, “...money issues.”
Ginny’s hand slammed down on the table. “Malfoy! I don’t know what you’re up to, but stop it! Leave me alone!” she hissed so as not to bring Madam Pince down upon her. Though she wouldn’t have minded if the strict librarian would have also punished Malfoy. However, seeing as she was the one being loud, she knew that he would definitely get off easier than her.
Draco shrugged, “Whatever you say, Weasley,” he said as he stood up. He started to walk away, but then paused and threw one last parting comment over his shoulder, “However, if you ever, you know, come into some money, let me know and I’ll help you pick out a good Quick Quotes Quill. I wouldn’t want you to pick out an inferior one simply because you don’t have the fine points of picking out quality, new materials.”
Why, Malfoy! That humongous git! I can’t believe his nerve! And what is up with him?! I don’t understand, this is nothing like his usual taunting. I mean it is but it’s different. What does he think-
Suddenly, Ginny stopped, shocked. Not only had she been thinking the insults in her head, she’d also been frantically writing them out. She hadn’t even realized that she’d started to write. What...just happened? she thought rather dazedly, looking up at Malfoy who was still standing there, watching her with a smirk on his face.
He laughed at Ginny’s expression. “That’s my one,” he said before winking at her then turning and sauntering out of sight.
Ginny heard the doors to the library swoosh open and then closed a moment later. “What just happened?” she asked to herself.
A/N: Well, there we go. My first D/G fic. I’d appreciate it if you’d leave a review, telling me what you thought. I’ve only been obsessed with the pairing for years. I hope you liked it since this plot bunny has been stalking me for months now. There’ll be at least one more chapter of this that explains the title and why Draco was acting the way he was a bit more. I promise you that there’s a reason! Anyway keep an eye out for that!
Oh, and sorry for any horrible spelling errors. I don’t have anyone to beta for me. (I only have one friend that’s into D/G. She’s an online friend that isn’t on much and I didn’t want to wait for her to come online for me to post this.) So if you see any horrible errors, feel free to e-mail them to me at randomness_personified@earthlink.net
To Be Continued.
Kithoms is the author of 1 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 1 members. Members who liked One Good Deed also liked 18 other stories.
This story is a favorite of 1 members. Members who liked One Good Deed also liked 18 other stories.
Leave a Review