Ginny Weasley sat down on the Hogwarts Express at the beginning of her fifth year. She was heartbroken. All in one summer she had broken up with Dean, and then, all her wildest dreams had come true; Harry Potter had asked her out on a date. She had given him everything. Her heart, her mind, her innocence. Some things could be forgiven, some things could heal. But she had given him the one thing that was irretrievable, and he had laughed at her. She felt violated, and she was filled with nothing but hate for him, she wanted revenge, she wanted to really hurt him.
Ever since he had witnessed the death of his Godfather, Harry had become an extremely mean person. In fact, the only people he was nice to these days were Ron and Hermione. Ginny had felt like he loved her in the short time they'd spent together. He'd seduced her, said he'd loved her ever since the day he'd rescued her from the clutches of Tom Riddle's Diary, had realized just how much he'd loved her when he'd risked his life for her. She was gone when those words came out of his mouth; she was drifting on cloud nine. She felt like she was the only person he could talk to about his life. And he had talked to her, and once she had felt nothing but the deepest sympathy and love for him, he had tossed her aside, saying nothing but "Thanks for an enjoyable summer!"
Since the week before school had started, the day he had dumped her, she had undergone some changes. Her once beautiful red hair was now streaked with black. She wore the darkest make up she could find, painted her nails black, her clothes had become noticeably shorter and tighter, she had relieved herself of all feeling for Harry, other than the deepest loathing she could muster. She'd withdrawn herself from her family, choosing to take the knight bus to Kings Cross instead of traveling with them. No one but her mother had seen her since that dreadful day, and when Ron stepped into her compartment, closely followed by Hermione and Harry, he almost fell over at her new look.
"Ginny! What have you done?" he gasped.
"Yeah, you look shocking!" Harry sneered. Hermione was, for once, speechless.
"I dunno, I've decided to unleash my true personality. Do you remember when you told me you felt like you needed to live up to all our siblings, and you wanted to set yourself apart and be someone other than 'the boy who lived's best friend'?" she asked Ron, who grimaced and looked apologetically at his friend, who just shrugged and said 'I know you want a life, and I want you to have one mate, it's nothing to be ashamed of!' Ginny steamed at how nice he was being to everyone but her.
"Well, I've decided to do the same thing. I always felt so crushed being Mummy's Little Girl. That's not me. I always felt like hat wasn't the person I was meant to be, I was trapped by the child everyone wanted me to be, and the teenager that I wanted to be. So, I decided, after Sirius died, that I didn't want to feel like him." Harry balled his fists, but Hermione was listening intently.
"Explain?" she asked.
"Ok, well he was such an out there, happy guy. But he was trapped in a place he didn't want to be. He talked to me all the time about it." She paused to let this sink in to Harry. One of his biggest gripes was that Sirius had never divulged anything about his life to Harry.
"He was one of my best friends, and the last thing he said to me was 'Gin, don't let anyone keep you hostage. Be the person you want to be, and no one else.' So I'm taking that advice to heart."
"I think that's great Ginny." Hermione praised. "I wish other people could vent their sadness in the same way." She said, looking intently at Harry, whose angry look remained fixed on Ginny, who was smiling cheekily.
"Well, ok, yes I get that. But Mum's going to kill me!" Ron wailed, and sat down.
"Oh, Ronald. Don't be so dramatic. Mum knows, she did my hair. She wasn't happy about it, but I explained why, and said that I was doing it anyway, with or without her permission or help, so she helped."
"So I'm not gunna die?" Ron asked, separating his fingers and staring at her through them.
"No Ron, you're not going to die." She reassured him.
"Well, then…Congratulations on becoming you…finally! I always knew there was something wrong. You started to come out a bit when you were helping Fred and George in the last summer."
"Well, I'm definitely happier than I've ever been," she replied. "And I think Sirius would've been proud, he always said I should get black hair and buy some new clothes. He wanted this."
"How do you know what Sirius wanted!" Harry screeched. Ginny stood up and walked towards him, so her face was an inch from his.
"Just because he didn't tell you everything, it doesn't mean he didn't tell me. People tell me everything, I can be very persuading." She purred, and walked out. Before Harry had a chance to react, Draco Malfoy was standing at the doorway.
"Ooh, Potter, is that your little girlfriend? Looks a little hotter this year doesn't she? I've got my eye on her…" she sneered.
"Don't you dare touch her Malfoy!" Harry exclaimed. "Besides, she wouldn't go near you with a ten foot pole!"
"Oh, don't be so sure Potter, I can be," He moved closer and blinked his eyes rapidly a few times. "Very persuading." And he left, going in the direction Ginny had walked.
"Why that little – Ron, doesn't it bother you that he's saying those things about her!" he exclaimed.
"Sure it does, but it shouldn't bother you, remember?" he asked.
"No, it doesn't, it's just because it's Malfoy saying it, that's all," he replied, satisfying all but himself.
He didn't love Ginny, he never had. He had just been so upset, and had wanted to see what would happen. He had taken a vindictive pleasure in breaking her heart. So why did he care so much about something that Malfoy had said?
"Hey Weasley!" Malfoy exclaimed. As soon as he had walked out of the sight range of Potty and his friends, he had broken into a run after the youngest Weasley.
"What do you want Malfoy?" she asked impatiently.
"You." He answered shortly. He looked her up and down. He'd never realized quite how damn good her body was. It had always been hidden by shabby clothes. Now, he examined her short, pleated skirt and short black singlet with pleasurable interest.
"Malfoy, you are the slimiest wart I have ever met. I hate you, not to mention the fact that your father tried to kill me last year, and I'm not really a forgiving girl. Goodbye." He grabbed her arm.
"But I could be so good for you." He whispered.
He backed her up against a wall and kissed her. She traced her hands up and down his body, unzipping the fly on his jeans. She felt him rise, felt his body pulsing, and she almost laughed. She broke away and pulled his hand from underneath her top. She grasped his fingers in hers, and kissed along his jaw line up to his ears. He started to lift her skirt but she pulled back, whispering, "You'll never get this Malfoy, never." And she walked away, almost doubled over in laughter. Very impressive though, she thought to herself as she turned around and saw him staring at her through the glass of the compartment. She hadn't even been aware of them sliding in there.
"Poor little baby, you'll be alright!" she teased, walking away.
""Poor little baby, you'll be alright!"
You little bitch! How dare you play me like that! He thought. He had actually felt for her, wanted her, needed her. And she had played him, taking joy in teasing him. He looked back on all the time he had spent with Ginny Weasley, which wasn't very much at all. He remembered teasing her, had always hated seeing her with Potter and his little gang. He'd always thought she was too pretty for them. But he had never cared about her.
I still don't now, Malfoy told himself. I just wanted a quick fuck, and she was there, and she's suddenly turned hot. It means nothing, nothing at all! But he just couldn't persuade himself of that.