CHAPTER 1

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the Harry Potter books/movie franchise, though I wish I could say I did. Rated M for some cursing (it may not seem like much but there will definitely be more in future chapters). Enjoy, and please review!

I walk quickly through the corridors, my canvas bag slung lazily over my shoulder. My hair must look like flames as the light pouring in from above hits it.

I'm late. Very. Why does Snape always have to keep me after potions? I mean, putting that firecracker in my cauldron was supposed to be funny. I didn't expect his hair to wind up on fire. I smile at the thought of the commotion in the dungeons earlier, and the look of utter shock on Snape's face as he fumbled around for his wand, not only putting out the fire when he did but managing to soak his greasy black hair and robes.

As I round the corner, I come face to face with none other than Draco Malfoy. He looks at me wordlessly, and I can feel my legs turn to jelly. I know it sounds cliched, but I was seriously afraid that he would hear my heart thumping out of my chest. Okay, so I may have a crush on Draco Malfoy. Don't look at me like that. I mean, he's so…mysterious. With that faded black mark on his forearm, platinum blond hair and empty grey eyes…

Today though they are far from empty. They are dark and deep, like a thick mercury sea that would take forever to escape once you get lost in it. They are burning with something, but his pale face remains expressionless.

"What is it this time, Malf-" He cuts me off, leaning in and planting a soft kiss on my surprised lips. His lips were warm and rough, chapped from the harsh winter winds. Then he turns on his heel and walks away silently, leaving me staring after him helplessly.

xxx

"He did what?!" Kennedy shouts at breakfast the next day, her voice rising with surprise. I put my hand on her shoulder, as if trying to calm her down. I love her, but sometimes she just doesn't know when to turn down the volume. I sigh, and begin retelling the story of today's events, particularly the ones concerning a certain blond haired wizard. Her vibrant green eyes are alight with shock, and I know that she's listening to me, taking in my every word as if they were her lifeline. That's just what best friends do.

Kennedy is pretty. She has long, shiny blond hair that almost looks golden in the light, and perfect, straight white teeth. I once told her that she should be a model, to which she promptly replied, "Models can't eat cake," thus ending the discussion.

When I'm finished with my story, she just shakes her head. "I don't know, Ginny. You might have some competition." As she says this, I look across the Great Hall, only to find Draco with Audrina Stone hanging onto his arm. I feel my heart sink as I watch Audrina straighten her green and silver tie, then join Blaise and Draco in laughing at something Pansy said. As she laughs, I watch her perfect white teeth form a smile framed by her plump pink lips, and her raven black curls bounce up and down.

"Are they…" I falter, feeling as if my heart has shattered into a million pieces.

"Yep. They got together last week, Ginny. I'm surprised you didn't hear. From the looks of it, though, you've got no chance. Every time I see Malfoy he has that annoying little accessory latched on to his arm." Kennedy's smile turns to a sneer of disgust.

I look to Draco, and his eyes connect with mine. They're dark, the color of charcoal now. Then he looks away, and I feel a pang in my heart. I know I really shouldn't care. I mean we aren't even dating. But still. That kiss. I almost thought it meant something.

I feel as if someone had slowly, painfully, pierced through my heart with a long, pointy dagger. And left it in. I reach for the marmalade, but the glass jar shatters in my vice like grip, and gooey orange jam flies everywhere. I can't take it anymore. Slowly, I get up from the table, ignoring Kennedy's questioning glance. I feel every one's eyes on me, but I'm too upset to care. The only eyes I care about are Draco's, dark and murky, unreadable, that lock with mine as I leave the Great Hall.

I walk through the corridors, which for once I'm glad to find deserted. Everyone is still at breakfast, no doubt talking about my little commotion. I don't really know where I'm going. My brain is too busy to care, anyways, swimming with the thoughts of Draco and marmalade and love.

I find that my feet have taken me to the quidditch pitch. I grab a broom, a Cleansweep 2006. This is the one that I usually use, the school's, seeing as my family is too poor to buy me a broom of my own. Maybe that's it, I think bitterly to myself. Maybe I'm just too poor for Draco.

I kick off from the ground, and soar up higher and higher. My red hair is traced with hints of gold as the sun hits it. It blows wildly in the wind, free and radiant and maybe even beautiful. My broom soars, cutting through the thin, wispy clouds. I fly around, looping and diving, until I touch down on the grass, still wet from the snow that's been melting there. My cheeks are burning from the wind, and I almost regret not wearing something heavier. My fingers, frozen from the numbing cold, wrap around the scratched handle of my broom. I trudge wearily back up to the castle, dreading my detention with Snape later. He's the last thing I need to deal with.

As I make my way to the dungeons, I spot Draco. He's got his arm draped casually over Audrina's shoulders, as if it were no big deal. As if that kiss never happened. It's just the three of us waiting until Draco whispers something in Audrina's ear, and she trots away, glancing at him from over her shoulder and giving him a dazzling smile. Draco and I are silent, looking at our feet as we wait for the Potions Master. I inspect my worn converse next to his shiny black shoes. Like everything else I own, they are hand-me-downs, these Ron's old ones. They are falling apart, and the laces are frayed and dirty. Next to Draco's mine look like a poor excuse for shoes.

I will never compare to Draco, I think. Here I am, a naive, clumsy little girl, next to Draco Malfoy, exquisite and beautiful and fucking perfect. Carefully, I look over to him, and meet his eyes, dark and unreadable. He studies me, and his eyes flick from my eyes, the color of warm honey, to my lips, chapped and red from the windy sky. His platinum blond hair is straight and neat, combed perfectly. I run my fingers through my own red locks, hopelessly trying to get the wind out of them.

Just then, Snape, like a majestic, foreboding raven in his layers of silky black robes, swings open the door, and I have no choice but to trudge inside, Draco at my heels.

xxx

The only noise in the room was the scrubbing of brushes against the desks, covered in ink and potions ingredients, which gave me time to mull over my confusing and complicated thoughts as I tried to make sense of everything. Leave it up to bloody Draco Malfoy to go and screw things up for me.

When I finally emerge from the dungeons, it's nearly midnight, and I amble through the halls, my heart aching and my thoughts jumbled. I cast one last look towards the potions room, only to find Draco looking at me, his features so innocent and vulnerable, before he looks away, trudging towards the Slytherin common room. I jump as I hear a voice, old and tired.

"Ah, young love…" the portrait on the wall says, looking at me through bright blue eyes and half moon spectacles. I shake my head sadly.

"You'd have to be blind not to see it," says the portrait, smiling wearily. "Don't be so blind, Miss Weasley…" He falls back asleep, and I continue to stare at him in shock, before numbly walking away. I stop, turning around.

"Thank you, Dumbledore," I whisper, and a small smile tugs at my lips.

xxx

It's Saturday, and Kennedy dragged me out of bed and raced me into Hogsmeade.

"See, Gin, isn't this nice? No boys, no teachers, no responsibilities! Just two wizard gals out on the town!" I roll my eyes, and she slaps at my arm before slipping into Honeydukes, leaving me to follow after the sweet scent of candy and the even sweeter scent of her vanilla perfume.

The walls are lines with shelves of brightly wrapped candies, cockroach clusters and candied apples, cotton candy spinning its own pastel pink and blue threads onto paper cones. I pick up a pouch of licorice wands, the cellophane wrapping crinkling in my cold hands. I put them back on the shelf gently, deciding against them, before walking out of the shop.

The wind bites at my face, and I pull my red and gold scarf up a little higher on my neck as I walk towards the Three Broomsticks. Kennedy runs out of Honeydukes, falling easily into step with me.

"Were you trying to abandon me?" Kennedy asks, mock horror painted over her features as she brings her hand up, allowing her fingertips to rest gently over her heart, feigning offense.

I laugh. "I just needed some fresh air. You know I'd never leave you, Ken." She wrinkles her nose at the nickname, insisting that it makes her sound like a boy.

"Come on, let's get inside. It's freezing out here!" With that, she drags me into a booth, waiting for Madam Rosmerta to come around to us.

Kennedy glances around the crowded bar, running a hand through her hair in an attempt to fix it. "Hey Gin, isn't that Charles Dampher?" I look up, spotting dark hair and shockingly blue eyes.

I nod. "Yeah, why?"

Kennedy shrugs, but she leans in and lowers her voice. "I heard he had a thing for you. I heard Lavender talking to Parvati about it during charms the other day. Apparently he's done with that other girl, what's the latest one's name? Emelia?"

I nod, letting my gaze stray from Kennedy to Charles. He reminds me of Harry, a bit, with his hair, but I don't think the two could be more different otherwise. Charles is a Hufflepuff with a reputation, from what I've gathered. Not that Charles is akin to a certain platinum blonde Slytherin, but he has been around.

Suddenly Charles turns his head to face me, his blue eyes meeting my honey brown ones, and I see him begin to move towards the booth before mine skirt away, landing instead on the Butterbeers Madam Rosmerta is setting down on the table.

And I see, just as Charles reaches the edge of the table, my mug of steaming Butterbeer careening over the edge and splattering onto his pants, some of it splashing up onto his face and arms. I wince as the glass breaks against the floor, before looking up at him.

"Hey… Charles, right?"

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hope you liked it! More chapters will be uploaded as soon as I can. Please review!