Today was going to be a good day. As Ginny Weasley woke, with the sun shining brightly outside, she was sure of it. She showered, pleasantly surprised that the other girls still lay sleeping, leaving the bathroom free. It was Saturday, and Saturdays were made to laze about, it seemed. She dressed, brushing her brick red hair into submission, and tip toed out, ready to face the world.
The Great Hall was more or less empty, with a few students scattered between tables. She sat, filling her plate, unperturbed by the thought of eating alone. After all, she was sure Neville would be around soon enough. And if not, well, at least she had time to think. Biting into a warm piece of toast, she looked up as the doors opened.
Today was going to be a bad day. As Draco Malfoy woke, with the sun burning into his retinas, he was sure of it. He showered in the silence of his room, silently thanking whatever gods there were that he no longer had to share one, having made Head Boy. But of course, there was Granger. The witch's name was enough to worsen his mood.
Nearly out of gel, he cursed as he struggled to scrape enough into his palm. This was ridiculous; Malfoys did not lack anything. He would have to owl his mother for more, which was an annoyance in its own league. Worst, he was met with the sight of Zabini lounging on his bed, forever the silent intruder. Today he did not care to know how the raven haired boy always managed to get in, and dressed silently, refusing to engage in chit chat.
They walked silently, Blaise having realized the mood he was in. Shrugging, he hoped food would cheer his best mate up. It always did.
Their eyes met, fire and ice, then averted as realization of who they were staring at hit. Chewing, she made the mistake of scoffing, which sent her into a fit of coughs. As she struggled to regain her breath with the goblet of pumpkin juice in front of her, Ginny felt a presence behind her. Turning, she was surprised to find not one, but two Slytherins standing in front of her. Her brother would have a fit, she knew, and the thought made her smile.
Entranced by her smile, yet confused at its origin, Blaise Zabini smiled back. At this, Ginny's smile disappeared, replaced with a look of apprehension.
"Can I help you?"
"That's a very dangerous question to ask, Miss Weasley. One could get their hopes, and many other things, up."
Her brow raised, not sure how to react to such cheekiness. Figuring she would get nothing substantial out of the annoyingly dashing boy in front of her, she turned her gaze to his companion. Slightly comforted by the unease in Malfoy's expression, she concluded she would not need her wand just yet.
"Hmmm, well I suppose I should rephrase that then, for fear of raising anything this early in the morning. What do you want?"
He answered with a condescending smile. Sighing, she tried once more.
"Why have you and your… companion decided to grace me with your presence, Zabini?"
"Call me Blaise, love, I think we're past formalities. You looked a bit lonely, choking rather loudly on your toast, so we decided to come over, and perhaps lend a helping hand."
Here Draco interjected. He would rather have been subjected to the Crutacius curse than sit and listen to this drivel.
"None of this 'we' business. I'd be good and glad if you continued in your prolonged suicide on your own. There are too many of you as it is."
Clenching her jaw, she struggled to maintain her cool, intent on clinging to her earlier excitement for the day.
"And yet, so few are the albinos. I'm glad actually; one ferret's more than enough to leave a bitter taste in you mouth." As Zabini, now Blaise, opened his mouth to comment, she shushed him, not caring to think too hard on that particular statement.
Eyes narrowing in silent rage, he fumed at her audacity. Him, albino? As he took a step towards her, Ginny was hit with a wave of his cologne, suddenly overpowering that of Blaise's. He smelled of the woods after rain, a surprisingly subtle, yet alluring, scent for him. Dazed, she could only stare into his eyes as he bent forward, the scent engulfing her.
The door opened, and he held her gaze for a moment, before she turned away, eyes widening at something he couldn't bring himself to be bothered with. He watched her throat, almost counting her freckles, disturbed at the sudden feeling in the pit of his stomach. Only when the roar of her name reached their ears did Draco turn. The sight he met deepened his grimace. Weasley number one.