Muggle trains.
She'd never been very fond of them. Not of the pathetically ugly design of the seats, not of the gloomy silence between the passengers, and not of the lack of happiness and glee. Muggle trains were everything the Hogwarts Express was not. No one seemed to be truly happy on muggle trains.
She was lucky, though – she rarely hade to ride them, since the magical world offered both brooms and apparition. Even so, sometimes muggle trains were the only alternative.
This time she was traveling to visit Luna down in Wales, where her good friend did some intense research on some new creature she'd heard of – Ginny hadn't quite catched the name. She loved Luna, she really did and could never have imagined a better friend, but why Luna had to go to Wales of all places was a mystery even to her. It wasn't just a short visit, either. Luna was staying there for six months, in a red little cottage in the middle of a deep forest, that no one had cared about since the 1970's. It's roof was awfully close to falling apart – but her slightly crazy friend loved it. And, like the caring person she was, she had invited most of her friends to come visit her. Ginny was one of the few that didn't decline the invitation, and here she was, on a train with a weirdly soft plastic floor, trying her best not to Bat Bogey-hex the man next to her.
He had spent the first hour trying to flirt with her in different ways, none of them appropriate and every new compliment worse than the other. He'd called her boobs for 'cute little kitten butts'. And as if that wasn't enough, the man was also too drunk to sit upright. Ginny was actually starting to worry about him throwing up on her if the train made a sharp turn. The flirting was also very, very wrong in another way – she recognized the man next to her.
It was probably only due to his drunkenness that he didn't recognize her, too – because this drunk man wasn't just someone in the neighbourhood she'd met at the supermarket sometime. The slim, muscular body, the sharp face, the pale chin and the slick hair, so blonde it was almost white – she knew it all too well. She had met this man before, even if it was long since now, and she was almost a hundred percent sure of who he was. She really didn't know how to react.
Because the man next to her was a man she'd wanted revenge on for a long time, revenge for all the things in their Hogwarts years. She'd only given up the thought because of Harry, who had convinced her to let it go, not letting it take up her time.
And she had decided to do so. Letting it go. She had succeeded.
But the man next to her was named Draco Malfoy. Only he was too drunk to seem to remember it himself.