Intellectually, Ginny Weasley didn't know why she liked Harry Potter.

It wasn't that she found him especially handsome. There were many people who were, objectively, a lot better looking than Harry. He wasn't short, but he was shorter than most people. The aesthetically pleasing contrast between his jet black hair and bright green eyes wasn't something that was dazzlingly uncommon - despite being fairly so.

It wasn't even his cleverness, because, even if he did display wit and quick thinking when he was in trouble, at other times he was only as smart as Ron - which wasn't very smart. He was nice to her and obviously felt uncomfortable being wealthy when he was around the Weasleys but most people were like that. He was certainly brave, but most of the Gryffindors were too.

She really didn't know why she liked Harry Potter.

But she did.

She liked him so much that even now, in her fifth year at Hogwarts, after five years of knowing him, she still flushed bright red whenever he looked at her or spoke to her. She liked him so much that her brothers had stopped teasing her about it.

She liked him so much that she didn't even mind that he knew that she liked him. She liked him so much she was considering setting fire to Ravenclaw's dormitory so that Cho Chang's hair would be singed. She liked him so much -

Ginny heaved a big sigh and stopped thinking about it. It really wasn't any use, or so she told herself. Despite the fact that she had always liked him, and always told herself she had no chance, she also hoped that she had. Ginny was beginning to feel a little neurotic. Her best friends - Fickle Fran and Coy Connie - had given up trying to make her go out and flirt with other boys. Boys in her year. Boys who didn't have black hair and green eyes. Ginny picked up her books and tucked her wand neatly into her robes. As if to compensate for her wildly untidy red hair, Ginny kept everything else about herself neurotically neat.

Ginny was rounding the corner, about to go down to the Hall for dinner when she slammed unceremoniously into Draco Malfoy.

Ginny fell on the floor.

Draco's books fell on her.

Draco remained standing.

Ginny looked woozily up at Draco. It didn't take her two seconds to compose herself. Despite her brother's - and more importantly, Harry's - feelings about Draco, Ginny had never thought about him much one way or another. She frequently saw him in the corridors, but they didn't acknowledge each other. Ginny subscribed to the belief that he hadn't done anything to her, so she couldn't feel justified in hating him. The other belief she subscribed to was the belief in all combinations of black hair and green eyes. Especially in boys. Boys in the sixth year. Boys whose names started with H and slid over arry.

Ginny stopped her train of thought and struggled to get up. Something was holding her down. A few somethings. A few somethings that looked suspiciously like books. Books that didn't belong to her. Books that presumably belonged to Draco Malfoy.

Draco stood glaring down at her, making no move to pick up his books. He had gone through a growth spurt, she noted. Ginny thought that he looked much like a beansprout. White, lanky and unfinished. They stared at each other for a while. Finally Draco leaned over, cursing under his breath and swiped his books off her. It sounded something like ,"Damned Weasleys, they're everywhere -"

Ginny got up and brushed herself off, picking up her books. She examined her wand anxiously. It seemed to be intact. She and Draco stood face to face. Or rather, face to neck. Her face to his neck, to be exact. "Sorry." She muttered. She wished she didn't always feel this compulsion to be polite. It was positively irritating.

Draco sneered. "You should be." He growled. "Get out of my way, Weasley."

Weasley got out of his way and stood, fuming. Now he had done something to her.

Ginny felt perfectly justified in feeling that Draco Malfoy was just possibly the most disgusting wizard on the face of the Muggle earth. He should take a leaf out of other people's books. Other boys' books. Boys who were polite. Boys who had green eyes and black hair and -

Ginny heaved another sigh and plodded to the Hall.

Ginny sat next to her two best friends and picked up her fork.

"What's wrong?" Fickle Fran asked. Fickle Fran had gotten her nickname after she had taken two boys to the last Christmas ball and dumped them there after going off with a different boy.

"What?"

"Your face is all red." Coy Connie informed her. Coy Connie had gotten her nickname after going to the same Christmas ball with one boy and refusing to dance with him all night long. The poor wizard had sat on the sidelines all night long, looking in a lovesick way at Connie as she danced with the two boys Fickle Fran had discarded. "What happened?"

"I had a run in with Draco Malfoy." Ginny said after a minute.

"That Slytherin bloke?" Fickle Fran asked.

"Hey, he's kind of cute." Coy Connie put in.

Ginny glared impotently at Fickle Fran and Coy Connie. "We had a run in." she repeated. "He dropped his books on me –"

"Who dropped their books on you?" Ron asked. He was with Harry, having just come in from Quidditch practice. He snickered. "I knew you were short, Ginny, but I didn't know you were that short."

Ginny refused to say anything, but her face was red. She snuck a glance at Harry, but she needn't have bothered. Her heart fell, and so did her face. Harry wasn't even listening. He was staring abstractedly into the distance. Or – not so abstractedly. The object in the distance seemed to be a girl. A girl who played Quidditch. A girl who was in Ravenclaw. A girl whose initials were C.C and it wasn't Coy Connie.

Cho bloody Chang.

Ginny yanked her gaze back to her older brother and instead met the sympathetic eyes of Coy Connie. For all Connie could be a bitch when it came to guys, there was no one more loyal when it came to the girls.

Ron seemed to be waiting for an answer. Ginny didn't want to be the one who gave it to him. She – despite being wronged by Draco; her ears burned when she thought of it – really didn't want to add fuel to the fire Ron had been throwing at Draco. "Nobody." Ginny said quietly. She didn't even feel angry anymore. Harry – blast his wizarding hide – still wasn't paying any attention.

Fickle Fran didn't have any such qualms.

"It was Draco." She told Ron.

Ron's face turned as red as Ginny's. "Draco Malfoy?"

"Is there any other Draco?" Fickle Fran asked.

"Ginny, was it Draco Malfoy?"

Ginny remained quiet. Harry spoke. "Draco Malfoy? What did he do now?"

Oh, so he was finally paying attention. It took mention of a human beansprout to get the attention of Harry Potter, but not the presence of a female Weasley flamehead.

"He dropped books on Ginny."

Harry's eyes widened. "Are you all right?"

Ginny nodded as her face went into another round of redness.

"I think Hermione is looking for you." Ginny said quietly, not looking at Harry. She didn't – for the first time since she had met him – feel like looking at him. She didn't feel like looking at Ravenclaw. She didn't feel like looking at anything.

The two left, Ron darting a curious look at Ginny. It wasn't like Ginny to be so reticent. Sure she was usually tonguetied around Harry, but not in that quiet, curiously sad way. It was more a flustered, curiously mumbling way.

"Hogsmeade." Ginny said.

"Are you sure you don't mind us leaving you for the day?" Fickle Fran asked.

Fickle Fran and Coy Connie were meeting two boys from the seventh year. Ginny knew that they were planning for Fran's date to end up with Connie and vice versa, and she had attended enough such soirees that she knew she'd end up awfully uncomfortable. "Sure." She said brightly. "I'll just go find some other girls to walk around with. Don't worry."

Connie gave her a hug. "You're the best. We'll see you later then."

Ginny waved as she walked off. She was looking forward to the day. Hogsmeade was always a surefire cheer-up tonic. She decided to head for Honeydukes first.

She was in Honeydukes examining a few Whizzpopping Wonders, wondering if Fred and George were going to buy them, when Harry, Hermione and Ron walked in, laughing and red cheeked from the wind. Ginny froze. Somehow, this was unspeakably humiliating, being found alone when everyone else was pairing up with their friends. It was especially humiliating being found by Harry.

Ron caught sight of her and waved. "Hey, Ginny!" he called, dragging Harry and Hermione along, coming over to her. "What are you doing alone?"

Ginny kept her head down, hoping that if she didn't look at Harry she wouldn't turn red. "Connie and Fran are meeting some boys. I didn't want to go with them."

Ron nodded. "Oh."

Hermione looked sympathetic. "So, do you want to come with us?" She grinned. "I could use another girl around."

Ginny's heart leapt. A whole day spent with Harry. She opened her mouth to say yes when the door opened again. Harry glanced up casually from smiling down at her, and he turned pink. His eyes turned glazed. Ginny looked up.

Her heart really couldn't take this.

Cho bloody Chang.

Harry waved at Cho bloody Chang - most people called her Cho - and she waved back and smiled. Harry turned pinker. He wasn't looking - or smiling - at Ginny anymore.

Why kid herself? Nobody wanted her. Ron was grinning, but she was his sister. Hermione was pitying her. But - the nail that slammed the coffin lid was the way Harry was looking at Cho, despite the fact that she had turned her back on him.

The yes Ginny had been about to say turned into a you. Or, more specifically, a you bastard. She shook her head at Hermione. "No, thanks." She said, her pride making her smile cheerfully despite her angry, sore heart.

Hermione glanced at Harry, and her eyes softened understandingly. She nodded at Ginny. Ginny was glad Hermione understood.

So few people did.

Ginny wandered out of the store and walked without a purpose. She didn't know where she was heading, she only knew she wanted to get as far away from Honeydukes as possible. Far away from the people inside it. Far away from the boys inside it. Far away from a boy inside it. A boy with black hair and green eyes.

Ginny didn't know how she got there, but she ended up at the edge of the Enchanted (A/N - you know, that forest where the centaurs are - can't remember the name right now..) Forest. She sat down and stared unseeingly before her.

"If it isn't Weasley."

Ginny's head snapped up and she looked at Draco Malfoy.

Draco was lounging against a tree, looking for all the world as if he should be dressed in the most sober of suits - if Ginny had been familiar enough with Muggle clothing to know that - holding a cigar. He looked down his thin, aristocratic nose at her. "Why aren't you at Hogsmeade with your little friends?" He practically sneered the last word. Ginny stiffened, and she turned away from him.

And then she saw.

She saw the Dementors, closing in on her and Malfoy. She edged closer to Draco, and she saw that he had seen them too. His eyes were wide, and he looked strangely young and frightened.

Memories of her and Tom Riddle swamped her, and she clamped a hand over her ears, but it didn't help. She struggled to remember the incantation Harry had told her about, but it was too difficult. Expecto, Expecto, Expecto -

And then she saw the Dementor swooping down on Malfoy. Somehow she knew that it was about to give him the Kiss. Draco was in no condition to help himself, his eyes were squeezed tightly shut, and like her, his hands were clamped over his ears.

Dimly Ginny thought that he deserved what he got, but then she watched, horrified, as it swooped closer to Draco. Then she thought of herself and Tom Riddle, and somehow, she got over to Draco and flung herself over him, covering him with her robes.

Ginny buried her face in her hands, and tried to evade the Dementor, but she was too weak, and too scared. Despair washed over her.

Then the Dementor swooped down, sucking her soul, and then everything went black.