Author's Note: I don't own Harry Potter. I'm merely siphoning a little creativity from JK Rowling's brilliance.

Ginny Weasley stepped onto the Hogwarts Express determined to make her sixth year the best yet. The past four years hadn't been nearly as dreadful as her first, but she had yet to make up for the terrible things she'd been forced to do. She knew she had to do something incredible to surpass her dealings with Tom Riddle. She had no clue what exactly this would entail, but was going to keep an eye out for any opportunities that may come her way.

The train ride had gotten very boring since last year when Hermione and Ron were made prefects. Harry moped the entire time they were gone, and Neville had always been a source of frustration for Ginny. Who knew what Luna was doing half of the time? However, they'd always shared a compartment, and she felt obligated to sooth Harry, tolerate Neville, and listen to Luna's crazy ideas. It took less than an hour for her to reach her boiling point. She left the compartment muttering something about stretching her legs and practically ran down the aisle to get away from their suffocating presence.

She was soon so consumed by her thoughts and the wind in her face that she didn't hear the compartment door to her right slide open, nor did she see a boy stepping out. She didn't snap out of her daydream until she ran into him. He instinctively wrapped his arms around the unknown figure as they spun around, hurtling to the floor. Ginny didn't have a graceful landing, which was only made worse when he landed on top of her. He seemed to be content in their compromising position, as was she until she recognized the perfectly styled platinum blonde hair from the corner of her eye. Thinking quick on her feet, she knew she had to be the first to speak.

"Malfoy, I know you're living you life-long fantasy right now, but the aisle of the Hogwarts Express is hardly the place."

Malfoy raised his head from where it was resting on her shoulder to look her in the eyes, still unsure of who had cushioned his untimely fall. He was amazed to see telltale red hair of a Weasley fanned out on the floor beneath him. Disgusted and surprised by the sheer nerve of her comment, he quickly jumped up.

"Spare me, Weasel," he sneered. "My only fantasy about you involves me hexing every disgusting freckle from your face."

She lazily pulled herself up on her elbows. "I didn't realize how often you thought about me," she said, batting her eyelashes in a ridiculous fashion. "I'm flattered, but it would never work. I'm just too much for you to handle. But it's been fun." She picked herself up and walked away leaving a stunned Malfoy behind.

Yes, this year was definitely going to be better.