Chapter Three
"Why do you keep on bugging me?
Why can't you leave me alone?
I am who I am, not who you want me to be,
So find some other sinner to stone."
Cannabalistic Underage Naugahyde Tomatoes - ESAD
We finally arrived at Hogwarts with no more incidents, thankfully. I stepped out into the humid air, inhaling the scent that was uniquely Hogwarts. It was sort of musky and strong. I scrutinized the students for new and old faces. I saw a most welcome one.
"Colin!" I called out over the crowd.
His flaxen head turned to face me before he began to wave frantically and run my way. An excited little bugger…
"Hi, Ginny!" he said ecstatically. "Aren't you so happy to be back?"
"Erm… Sure, Colin," I replied awkwardly. "Have you seen Luna?"
"No. Have you?" a voice from behind me quirked.
I turned to face Luna Lovegood. We embraced each other in a short hug before parting.
"How was your summer?" I asked her.
"I don't know. How was yours?"
She loved to answer questions with questions. A Ravenclaw through and through…
"It was fine, thanks."
We began to chat for a bit until we stepped into the Great Hall to wait for the first years. Luna waved and left, flouncing her silky blond hair. It's so much nicer than my horrid red head. I involuntarily touched the long, straight lock of hair hanging above my chest. Colin and I took our seats near the end of the table to make a fast getaway. Once everyone was seated, the first years began to head in. Most of them looked quite nervous. The Sorting Hat sang his little ditty, which scared most of the muggle born kids. Professor McGonagall walked onto the `stage'.
"Once I call out your name, you place the sorting hat on your head. It will tell you your house for the next 7 years. Aaron, Blake!"
A self-assured boy bounced up onto the chair and put the ugly hat onto his head, which almost immediately screamed "Slytherin!"
By the time the sorting ritual had finished, I was dozing off. Colin prodded my rib when the food had appeared. I told him I wasn't hungry. On the train, I had an epiphany. I had been griping about the extra fat I had obtained over the summer and I decided I wouldn't eat anymore. Soon enough, we were up in our common room with the rest of the Gryffindors, reminiscing about the old days. Harry was nervously fiddling with his shirt, tugging at the edges a bit. Ron chattered about Quidditch like someone cared. Stupid sod… There are so many reasons why I hate my brother, but none I should admit. You'll understand soon enough. Of course, the highest on my list would be that he ruined my social life, scaring away potential boyfriends. Merlin, he annoys me to no end. He's never there when I need him. Take my first year for example. Then take my fourth year. Now when I'm grown up and I don't need his bloody help, he decides to make everything I do his business. "You can't do this, Gin. You can't do that, Gin." Blah, blah, blah. I'm going bloody mental. Yes, yes. I rant to myself all the time. If I'm a stalker, I might as well be a mentally ill psychopathic schizophrenic stalker, eh? Bill says I need to see this person called a psychiatrist. They specialize in helping people overcome their problems. What a load of crock. I have no problems. I have issues. Notice how the words are different. It's late. Good night.
**********
First day back and I feel like shit warmed over. You would think that the Great Albus Dumbledore would know how to charm the school to be cooler. It's so bloody hot. Sweating, I get up, get showered and all that and get dressed, ready for school. I begin to walk down the corridors leading to the Great Hall. In the middle of a obnoxiously loud yawn, I clumsily tripped over my own feet, causing me to fall on my belly. Ouch. Guess what? People were even around to witness the spectacular display of idiocy.
"Falling over Potter even when he's not here? How pathetic," a voice drawled from the crowd.
"The day I fall over that bespectacled git is the day you fall in love with Ron," I sneered, getting up and brushing myself off.
He smirked. He bloody well smirked. My hand itched to slap it off his face.
"So, Weasley… Did you think about my offer?" he asked.
"What offer?"
"I told you, Weasley. You're feisty. I like that," he leered.
I growled in disgust, turning on my heel. Stupid bastard.
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