Chapter Two
"It's a new day, but it all feels old,
It's a good life, that's what I'm told.
But everything, it all just feels the same."
Good Charlotte - The Anthem
"Ginny! What are you doing? Stop dillydallying! It's time to go!" Ron yelled as I was finishing packing up some clean clothes for Hogwarts.
Mum had gotten me new things for the New Year. Nothing extravagant, but nothing that can't be altered.
"I'm coming! Shut your damn trap!" I retorted loudly.
I threw all my necessities into my trunk and grabbed the trunk to my new pet, Lila. It was a young owl with black feathers. Bloody beautiful if you ask me. Sixth year at Hogwarts is going to suck just as much as the past five years. Oh lord… Why do I bother? I ran down with the large brown trunk in one hand and the cage in the other. My wand was buried inside of my jeans' pocket. My black blouse fit quite snuggly to my body and my new blue converses were comfortable. I threw my trunk into the backseat of the trunk and put Lila's cage in the backseat next to me. She hooted softly. Pig was also there alone with Hedwig, next to Lila as Ron was in the front seat next to dad. Harry sat next to me in a dreamy daze. Mum decided not to see us off because she had a job interview. This year, she planned to work. She's going to work as an undercover muggle at Hermione's parents' business as dentists. She was to be the hostess or something. I'm not quite sure. Dad zoomed off to King's Cross, platform 9 and three quarters. I was first to run through the gray stone column with the cart bustling in front of me. Right when I got through, I crashed into someone. A big someone. Black wife beater, blue denim jeans, silvery blonde hair and smoldering gray eyes. Oh sh-
"Watch it Weasley!" Draco's voice coldly snapped.
"Eat me!" I glared.
His perfectly shaped eyebrow cocked up in surprise as I pulled my trunk and cage out of the silver cart and began walking into the train, looking for a room, which I could be alone in. The last compartment was empty so I threw my baggage into the shelves on the top and sat down grumpily. This was not the best way to start off the school year. I must admit, he grew into his manly figure over the years. His scrawny body was not so scrawny anymore. From the tight wife beater, his muscles were beautifully sculpted and his arms were tanned to perfection. His aristocratic nose was smack dab in the middle of his face, above his bee stung cherub lips and below his unusual gray eyes, which reminded me of a violent storm. All of a sudden, a large figure gracefully glided into the room, shutting the compartment door behind him. Just my luck.
"What do you want, Malfoy?" I sneered.
"This is the last compartment, Weasley. Don't you have any manners? I suppose that you're too poor to even afford that. Learn to share," he replied.
Jackass.
"Go fuck yourself and die you arse," I smirked.
Again, he cocked his eyebrow up.
"You have guts, Weasley. You're feisty. I like that," he grinned coyly.
"Fuck you," I snarled.
"What a nasty little mouth you have. Want me to clean it for you?" he leered.
"In your dreams," I answered.
What is up with the sexual innuendos? Merlin knows that every girl, or guy, has found this boy, excuse me, man, gorgeous. He's so unique, but a downright arse. Just give him a new personality to go with that body of his and people everywhere would be in heaven…
All of a sudden, the compartment door slid open. Great. Just my luck. His two imbecilic lackeys… Someone must hate me up there. Wait. Who's that behind them?
"Neville? Is that you? What are you doing here?" I asked.
"There's no more room in any other compartment," he mumbled.
"Sit next to me," I half stated, half pleaded.
He gladly threw up his trunk and plopped down to my side, depressing the seat. Each of Malfoy's goons sat next to him, both wearing blank looks with a hint of confusion. All of a sudden, one of them began to speak.
"Pansy's been looking for you," he said.
I think it was Crabbe. A small grimace flashed through his eyes and features before he nodded in acknowledgement. I wondered why he didn't like her, besides for the obvious reasons. She was… pretty. Cut off her pug nose and she would look just fine. She has a filthy little temper. No worse than mine, I would believe. She has long blonde hair, curled at the bottom. Her eyes are like Harry's, an emerald green. Her figure is lush and curved in all the right places. I despise her. Again the door opened. I really need to lock it…
"Drakie!" Pansy squealed.
I stared at them with disbelief, stifling laughter. What a fabulous pet name. Malfoy winced at her voice.
"Where have you been? I've been looking for you!" she huffed.
"I've been trying to hide from you," he quipped.
A small frown passed her face. I tried to be placid, but this was just too hilarious. I let out an undignified snort from trying to smother the laugh that was rising from my throat. Everyone looked over to me. Some with hatred, some with confusion and others with amusement.
"See something funny, Weaslette?" Pansy growled.
"Nothing but your ugly nose," I mused.
A sharp stinging sensation coursed through my cheek as I gaped at the about to be dead bitch that slapped me. I gave a high cry of hatred and attacked her. Blow after blow until she lay unconscious on the floor. I shoved her body out and shut the door behind her. I turned back to face the crowd. They all stared with incredulity and with grudging approval. I calmly returned to my seat and took a deep breath.
"That was amazing," Neville breathed.
"Thanks," I smiled.
She just got what was coming to her and what was overdue and deserved… Oh Merlin… When will the horrors cease? The door once again was pushed aside, revealing Blaise Zabini. This man could rival Malfoy's good looks. Ironically, they look like complete opposites. Blaise had tangible black hair and amethyst colored eyes. He was probably almost 6'1, an inch or two taller than Draco. His broad shoulders tapered down to a thin waist. Any girl would die for that waist…
"Draco? Why is Parkinson sprawled across your front door?" he inquired.
"Don't know. Should I move her?" he asked.
"Please do. Also, move over your stuff. I'm coming in. I've been sitting with the Dream Team for the past few minutes. Bloody annoying prats," he complained.
It was just a tad obvious that he had not seen me yet. He heaved his trunk in and threw it up into the luggage holder and sat down. Right on top of me. I roughly propelled him off of my lap and onto the floor.
"Two attacks in one day. I'm impressed, Weasley," Malfoy smirked.
"I don't do it for you, asshole. I do it for me," I said haughtily.
"Ow," Blaise whimpered.
"Sorry about that. You sat on me," I told him.
He waved a hand dismissively and plopped down next to me. Blaise is the kind of Slytherin that you wonder why he even got sorted into Slytherin in the first place. He doesn't have all the same prejudices towards Gryffindor, only the Dream Team and most Weasleys, save myself. Sometimes he could act like a real Slytherin on PMS. As you can tell, I study people. I watch their every movement and get to know their quirks. I know, I know. Stalker…