Sleep to Dream
"There is always some madness in love. But there is also always some reason in madness." - Friedrich Nietzsche
Dear Diary,
School starts back today, and I have to admit that I'm not quite sure what to expect. I'm not sure if I can face the other students again. They knew - by the end of my first year, they all knew what had happened to me. Rumor (fueled by the Slytherins, of course) spread through the school, and it moved faster than I'd ever anticipated. My real friends have ignored the talk for the most part - Harry, Ron, Hermione, and a few other of my housemates have turned a deaf ear to the gossip, but mostly because Harry has explained what really happened to me.
But not everyone is like that.
It's the beginning of my sixth year, and yet somehow I feel like I did at the beginning of my second year. I want to go back to school, but at the same time, I don't want to. I don't like the way people look at me when they pass me in the hallways. I don't like the way they whisper when I walk past them in the library. It's as if I've been marked somehow; marked with some sort of brand that's invisible only to me. Everyone else around me sees it, and it causes them to condemn me before I even have a chance to open my mouth and say anything to them.
How can these people pass judgement on me, based on some shaky rumors that have been greatly exaggerated for close to four years now? It's not fair.
Ginny stopped writing and stared at the last sentence she'd written. It's not fair. Since when had anything in her life been fair? The last child of seven, she'd gotten used to the hand-me-downs (yes, even from her brothers she received hand-me-downs; she spends the summers and holidays wearing Bill and Charlie's old shirts and jumpers). She's grown used to the babying inflicted on her not only by her parents, but by her two eldest brothers, as well.
It would only make sense that after her first year at Hogwarts, the babying and the monitoring and the coddling at home would intensify; she just hadn't expected it to reach the point that it had.
"Ginny, are you quite ready yet, darling?" her Mum's voice called upstairs. Ginny hurried to shove her journal deep into her bookbag. While it was easy enough to hide her journal from prying eyes, it would be difficult to explain the ink stains that currently marred the pale skin of her fingers. She grabbed her bag and hurried down the stairs, taking two at a time.
"I'm ready, Mum." She tried to skip past her mother, but Molly Weasley was too quick for her. She shot a hand out and gripped her daughter's forearm lightly.
"Ginevra Weasley," her mother chided, turning her hand over and inspecting the black stains. "What on earth have you been doing?"
"Taking a bath in her inkpot, looks like," Ron offered, peering over his mother's shoulder. Ginny narrowed her eyes at him.
"No one asked for your opinion, Ronald," she snapped. Ron shrugged and turned away, but Ginny caught the beginnings of a smile as he did.
"You don't have time to go and wash it off," Molly said, exasperated. She pulled out her wand. "Evanesco!" Nothing happened. Molly frowned. "Have you been into that pot of permanent ink that I confiscated from Fred and George?"
"No, Mum," Ginny sighed.
"Then why won't it come off?"
"I don't know." Molly dropped her arm and tsk-tsk'ed at her.
"I'll look for a remedy in Gilderoy Lockhart's book when I get back from King's Cross - and when I find it, I'll owl it along to you."
Knowing that it would be pointless to argue with her mother, Ginny merely nodded and allowed herself to be bustled out of the house, and into the waiting Ministry car. Since her Father had become the Minister of Magic, he had not allowed his family to leave the house without Ministry protection. The Weasley family was a prime target for loose Death Eaters, should they desire to strike out at someone.
The whole way to the train station, Ron droned on and on about Quidditch and Harry and Hermione. Whenever he would mention Hermione, his cheeks and ears would turn pink, and his voice would soften. Ginny wondered when Ron would notice that Harry did the same thing where Hermione was concerned, and she feared for the safety of all in their vicinity when they realized that they were both seeking the affections of the same girl. For the most part, Hermione seemed oblivious to the situation - and Ginny supposed that that had to do with her time being occupied with Viktor.
Hermione had tried to discourage Viktor's romantic advances ever since the Yule Ball, but it wasn't because she didn't like him. She had confided in Ginny that she was actually rather fond of him - it was the distance and age factors that really put a damper on any potential relationship. Hermione was just too damned practical when it came down to it. Ginny reckoned that one impulsive act might actually short-circuit Hermione's brain - any action that wasn't pre-planned, mapped out, or entirely thought out would do the trick, she was sure.
"Ginny?"
She turned, startled, to look at her brother. "What?"
"Aren't you coming?" She glanced around and felt the heat rising into her cheeks. The car was sitting in front of King's Cross Station, idling and waiting for its last passenger to exit. She grabbed her bookbag and clambered out of the car, ignoring Ron's concerned looks. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," she said glibly. "Isn't that Harry over there?" She pointed to a large group of what appeared to be Ministry Officials, and watched as Ron left her to make his way through the crowd. "I'm fine," she repeated softly to herself.
She gripped the strap of her bag tightly as she made her way to the train, giving watery smiles to anyone who braved a look in her direction. It was still there, that stigma. Ginny Weasley was possessed by Voldemort. She could snap at any time and return to him. Who knows what he made her do? I'll bet she did more than help petrify those students.
She took a deep breath and forced the whispers away as she stepped onto the train. She purposely ignored the scant other students that she passed as she made her way to the car that was closest to her, and she heaved a sigh of relief as she slid the door open and ducked inside.
She dropped her bag onto the floor in front of her and leaned her head against the seat. As soon as she had closed her eyes, she heard the door to her compartment slide open.
"Bugger off," she mumbled, turning her face away from the door. She heard the sound of feet shuffling, and someone clearing their throat.
"Oh - okay, then," Harry's soft voice came. Ginny straightened up almost immediately and looked at him apologetically.
"Oh, Harry, it's you. No, you can stay - it's fine, really."
"You sure?"
"Yes, you're fine." Harry looked relieved and gave her a small smile before sliding onto the seat across from her. "I forgot that you didn't have any Prefect meetings to go to."
"Yeah, well," Harry shrugged and glanced out the window. "I've gotten used to it, I reckon."
"I'll bet Hermione was thrilled to be named Head Girl," Ginny commented, carefully watching her friend's expression. Harry's cheeks slowly turned scarlet as he turned to face her.
"She was. It's all she's been talking about all summer in her letters."
"How exciting," Ginny teased, smiling. Harry grinned.
"It's stupid, but it's kind of hard not to get excited for her when she gets so worked up about something," he admitted.
"It's not stupid," she offered. "Excitement can be infectious."
"So how was your summer?"
"Same as ever, although Ron drove me nuts because you didn't show up like you usually do."
Harry looked extremely uncomfortable and shifted in his seat. "I just
couldn't do it this summer, Gin."
She nodded at him and gave him a sympathetic smile. "I understand,"
she replied honestly. "Believe me, I do."
"He's still my friend," he amended quickly.
"I know."
They were silent for a moment. The snack trolley passed by, and Harry purchased chocolate frogs for both he and Ginny, and then thought better of it and purchased one each for Ron and Hermione, as well. Ginny thanked him for the treat, but didn't open it. Instead she dropped it into her bag.
"Been writing a lot this summer?" Harry asked as he bit off the frog's head. Ginny gave a start and arched an eyebrow at him.
"What makes you ask that?"
"Your fingers have ink stains all over them," he commented, gesturing towards the offending digits. Ginny shoved her hands beneath her thighs and shook her head.
"Not especially much," she lied. It was Harry's turn to arch an eyebrow, but before he could probe any further, the door to the compartment slid open.
"Harry!" Hermione flashed a brilliant smile at the dark-haired boy as she stepped into the car, and Ginny noted with some satisfaction that Harry's ears turned the same shade of scarlet that Ron's did when Hermione smiled at him. "Ginny! How have the two of you been?"
"We've been getting on well," Ginny said, silently observing how Hermione slid onto the seat next to her and crossed her legs. Harry took one look at Hermione's bare knees peeking out from atop her socks and flushed. He turned towards the window again. "How was your summer?"
"Oh, I expect it wasn't as relaxing as yours and Ron's," Hermione said, extracting a book from the bag she'd carried into the car with her. "My parents insisted that I accompany them to my Aunt Laverne's house." Hermione scowled as she opened her book, and Ginny blinked.
"What's wrong with Aunt Laverne's?" she probed.
"Aunt Laverne is of the mind that women should not read too much, think too much, or speak too much, especially not if she wants to find a suitable husband. Unfortunately enough for her, I do all of those things. We really rattle each other's nerves when I visit."
"Your Aunt thinks you read too much?" Ginny laughed. Harry grinned as he turned to look at Hermione.
"All right, I knew that if I told you, you'd take the mickey out of me. Go ahead and get it over with, you two."
"Our Hermione - talk too much?" Harry gasped, feigning surprise. Despite the furious blush that rose to her cheeks, Hermione smiled at him.
"That's quite enough, Mister `if-it-isn't-dangerous-it-isn't-worth-doing,'" she said, her smile widening at the color that crept into his cheeks.
"Who are you taking the mickey out of?" Ron asked, slipping into the compartment and taking the seat next to Harry.
"She's teasing Harry," Ginny informed him, her voice thick with amusement. It seemed to Ginny as though everything in this moment had been prearranged somehow; everything was perfect. The four of them were laughing and teasing in unity - it was one of the rare moments when Ginny didn't feel like the odd man out, and she found herself wanting to savor every moment of the afternoon.
It wasn't to last, however.
Ginny could feel the warmth being sucked out of the compartment as the door slid open and the silver Prince of Slytherin stood smirking at them.
"Well, well," he drawled slowly, his eyes landing on each of them in turn. "I had wondered what the stench was that's present at this end of the train, but now that I've been here, I suppose I know, don't I?"
"Please," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. "The only thing that stinks in this compartment is your hair gel, Malfoy." Ron and Harry burst into incredulous sniggers, but Ginny remained silent, simply observing the scene that was unfolding before her. She'd found that the less she moved or said, the less likely she was to be noticed - and therefore she was able to observe more.
"As if he's going to listen to a filthy Mudblood," Crabbe snorted. Malfoy turned and glared daggers at his goon before turning back to them. Ron's cheeks had turned pink and his smile had faded. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but Harry was simply faster.
"Don't call her that," he said slowly, his eyes glittering dangerously.
"What's the matter, Potter?" Draco asked, amusement thick in his voice. "Can't Weasley's girlfriend speak for herself?"
The trio spoke in unison.
"She's not my girlfriend!" "She's not his girlfriend!" "I'm not his girlfriend!"
Malfoy was not the only one who was momentarily startled by their vehement denials; Ginny turned her eyes to them and blinked. The movement of her head was what gave her away, and Malfoy turned his attention to her as though he'd suddenly realized that there was another person in the compartment that he hadn't had a chance to mock yet.
For some reason, though, when Draco opened his mouth, he promptly closed it again. Ginny didn't have time enough to frown or to question it before he was gone with his mates following closely on his heels. She turned back in time to see Harry and Ron shoot concerned glances at Hermione, who rolled her eyes for the second time.
"Honestly, you two," she said, giving them an affectionate smile. "It's sweet of you both to defend me, but I'm rather used to that particular insult coming from ferret boy, so it really doesn't phase me anymore."
Ron and Harry were visibly relieved, and went back to teasing and laughing with Hermione. For Ginny, though, the moment had been broken - and now, on top of that, she had something new to contemplate.
Why had Malfoy not insulted her?
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