Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing. It all belongs to (surprise surprise)
J.K. Rowling. The plot is mine. I think.. But then again.. It might belong
to my alter ego. *looks around suspiciously* oh well.
A/N: hey all. This is my first Fan Fic. Story. but I figured that I should give it a try. My friend (who shall remain nameless) kinda pressured me into it, making me write a G/D fic. I usually write poetry or horror stories, so I am venturing into realm unknown to me. And if I get any of the facts wrong, I am truly sorry. Send me an email and I'll correct them. I haven't read the books in quite a while and that will be the cause of any mistakes. So.. Review and tell me if u like it or it sucks.
Chapter 1: The Invitation
"There's a party if you'd like to go, you could meet someone who'd really love you. So you go and you stand on your own, and you leave on your own, and you go home and you cry and you want to die." I Am Human, Originally by The Smiths, remade by Love Split Love for The Craft movie
Ginny Weasley was in her fifth year at Hogwarts. After her eventful first year, she seemed to have drifted into the background, faded from mind.
For this, she was thankful-now she didn't have people heckling her about being Slytherin's Heir, even though she wasn't. She was turned out from the social society, rarely attended any school events, and didn't care what anyone thought of her.
So, when the owl carrying an invitation to a private party arrived, she was more surprised than anyone else seated at the Gryffindor table.
Carefully, she removed the scroll of parchment from the bird's leg, unraveling it under the table so no one else could see the words written.
When she read what the message, written in a florid, carefree script, a small gasp escaped her lips. She was being invited to a dance, the host remained anonymous, but a small voice kept piping up, her mind tried to ignore it, but the voice, the voice of hope, would not be denied.
'It's Harry, you fool!' Hope was so irrational at times, and she couldn't do anything about it. Ginny's more sensible mind argued violently.
'See what you do to her! You go getting her all worked up, and you know that it's not going to be him.' The voice scoffed. 'It's probably just someone trying to pull a trick on her. I can't say it'll be the first time!'
'Me, what I do to her???!!! You're the one who makes her feel hopeless, worthless, who drove her to SUICIDE!'
"Shut up, can't you just shut up?"
Ginny wanly made an attempt to silence the voices, but, as with almost everything else in her life, failed. She was blissfully oblivious of what an unusual sight she made; a girl most had forgotten about reading a letter received by owl and talking to herself.
But the mystery of the author was both fascinating and troubling, and she didn't notice she'd come to be the center of attention.
She was scared; she didn't want this to be like last time... if she decided to go, that is. Her body gave an involuntary shiver at the memory.
'"Why are you here, Weasel?"'
'"I-I got an invitation."' Attention focusing on her, Malfoy staring viscously at her, murder in his eyes.
Ginny had run back to her dorm that night with a tear-streaked face. She couldn't live with the embarrassment, so she had taken a small dagger to her wrist. Hermione found her on the floor, her having passed out from loss of blood. Madame Pomfrey was able to fix the wound with the swish of her wand. It shouldn't have been that easy to fix.
She forced the memory from her mind with great effort. It was Harry, he did liker her, and wanted to be with her. But did she want to be with him? Lately she had been asking herself that question frequently, and to be truthful, she wasn't quite sure anymore.
She glanced at Harry to see if there was even a glimmer in his eye that would proclaim him the author, only to find that not only he, but the entire school as well, was staring at her.
A faint flush came over her cheeks, almost matching the deep flame of her hair. There was snickering from the Slytherin table (as usual), and she fled the Great Hall out of embarrassment, hair flying out behind her, feeling eyes boring into her back as she ran.
Ginny meandered the twisting, ever-changing, hallways for what seemed to be an eternity.
She had left with the intentions of returning to the Common Room, curling by the fire and letting everything escape her mind, but found she couldn't face the snide remarks from her brother and other Gryffindors she was sure to receive.
Hours passed without her knowledge, and she found herself in the dungeons.
"Trying to become a Slytherin, now are we, Weasel?" A smooth, molasses voice drawled from behind her. "You know you can't, so why are you here?"
She had been looking at her feet, and now her head snapped up and around, only to see Draco Malfoy with a smug look on his features.
God, he's gorgeous! Ginny gasped, not at his appearance, but at her own thought. How could she be standing here thinking about Draco Malfoy in that way? Nonetheless, Draco took her gasp as one of fright.
"What, Weasel? Are you scared? None of your dumb prick brothers around to protect you?"
"What would I have to be scared of, Malfoy? A puny sixth year that thinks he owns the school?" She spat with vehemence.
She was determined not to fear him, monsters of his type feed on the fear of their victims.
"Yes. Watch out, Weasel, you don't want to be messing with me... you 'obviously' don't know what... or who you're dealing with."
He took a threatening step towards her. Her first instinct was to step back and run away, but she refused to show such plain terror. "Your brothers won't be able to protect you from me, you know..."
"I can protect myself." Ginny pulled the invitation from under her robes and held it up so Draco could read it. "You wouldn't happen to know who sent me this, now would you? Perhaps a cruel joke on your part?"
"Yes, I know who sent it. It was certainly not me, I would never invite you, a common Weasley. But, now, why would I want to assist you in any way? Hm? Anyway, I will tell you one thing, out of the goodness of my heart-"
"What heart?" she murmured under her breath.
"As I was saying, out of the goodness of my 'heart,' I will say that this is not a 'set up.' Now get out of my sight before I decide to condemn my life and yours by using an unforgivable curse on you."
"If you think I'm going to scatter off just because you threatened me, I'm not." She turned her head and made for Gryffindor Tower, purposely slower than normal, just to aggravate Malfoy.
A/N: hey all. This is my first Fan Fic. Story. but I figured that I should give it a try. My friend (who shall remain nameless) kinda pressured me into it, making me write a G/D fic. I usually write poetry or horror stories, so I am venturing into realm unknown to me. And if I get any of the facts wrong, I am truly sorry. Send me an email and I'll correct them. I haven't read the books in quite a while and that will be the cause of any mistakes. So.. Review and tell me if u like it or it sucks.
Chapter 1: The Invitation
"There's a party if you'd like to go, you could meet someone who'd really love you. So you go and you stand on your own, and you leave on your own, and you go home and you cry and you want to die." I Am Human, Originally by The Smiths, remade by Love Split Love for The Craft movie
Ginny Weasley was in her fifth year at Hogwarts. After her eventful first year, she seemed to have drifted into the background, faded from mind.
For this, she was thankful-now she didn't have people heckling her about being Slytherin's Heir, even though she wasn't. She was turned out from the social society, rarely attended any school events, and didn't care what anyone thought of her.
So, when the owl carrying an invitation to a private party arrived, she was more surprised than anyone else seated at the Gryffindor table.
Carefully, she removed the scroll of parchment from the bird's leg, unraveling it under the table so no one else could see the words written.
When she read what the message, written in a florid, carefree script, a small gasp escaped her lips. She was being invited to a dance, the host remained anonymous, but a small voice kept piping up, her mind tried to ignore it, but the voice, the voice of hope, would not be denied.
'It's Harry, you fool!' Hope was so irrational at times, and she couldn't do anything about it. Ginny's more sensible mind argued violently.
'See what you do to her! You go getting her all worked up, and you know that it's not going to be him.' The voice scoffed. 'It's probably just someone trying to pull a trick on her. I can't say it'll be the first time!'
'Me, what I do to her???!!! You're the one who makes her feel hopeless, worthless, who drove her to SUICIDE!'
"Shut up, can't you just shut up?"
Ginny wanly made an attempt to silence the voices, but, as with almost everything else in her life, failed. She was blissfully oblivious of what an unusual sight she made; a girl most had forgotten about reading a letter received by owl and talking to herself.
But the mystery of the author was both fascinating and troubling, and she didn't notice she'd come to be the center of attention.
She was scared; she didn't want this to be like last time... if she decided to go, that is. Her body gave an involuntary shiver at the memory.
'"Why are you here, Weasel?"'
'"I-I got an invitation."' Attention focusing on her, Malfoy staring viscously at her, murder in his eyes.
Ginny had run back to her dorm that night with a tear-streaked face. She couldn't live with the embarrassment, so she had taken a small dagger to her wrist. Hermione found her on the floor, her having passed out from loss of blood. Madame Pomfrey was able to fix the wound with the swish of her wand. It shouldn't have been that easy to fix.
She forced the memory from her mind with great effort. It was Harry, he did liker her, and wanted to be with her. But did she want to be with him? Lately she had been asking herself that question frequently, and to be truthful, she wasn't quite sure anymore.
She glanced at Harry to see if there was even a glimmer in his eye that would proclaim him the author, only to find that not only he, but the entire school as well, was staring at her.
A faint flush came over her cheeks, almost matching the deep flame of her hair. There was snickering from the Slytherin table (as usual), and she fled the Great Hall out of embarrassment, hair flying out behind her, feeling eyes boring into her back as she ran.
Ginny meandered the twisting, ever-changing, hallways for what seemed to be an eternity.
She had left with the intentions of returning to the Common Room, curling by the fire and letting everything escape her mind, but found she couldn't face the snide remarks from her brother and other Gryffindors she was sure to receive.
Hours passed without her knowledge, and she found herself in the dungeons.
"Trying to become a Slytherin, now are we, Weasel?" A smooth, molasses voice drawled from behind her. "You know you can't, so why are you here?"
She had been looking at her feet, and now her head snapped up and around, only to see Draco Malfoy with a smug look on his features.
God, he's gorgeous! Ginny gasped, not at his appearance, but at her own thought. How could she be standing here thinking about Draco Malfoy in that way? Nonetheless, Draco took her gasp as one of fright.
"What, Weasel? Are you scared? None of your dumb prick brothers around to protect you?"
"What would I have to be scared of, Malfoy? A puny sixth year that thinks he owns the school?" She spat with vehemence.
She was determined not to fear him, monsters of his type feed on the fear of their victims.
"Yes. Watch out, Weasel, you don't want to be messing with me... you 'obviously' don't know what... or who you're dealing with."
He took a threatening step towards her. Her first instinct was to step back and run away, but she refused to show such plain terror. "Your brothers won't be able to protect you from me, you know..."
"I can protect myself." Ginny pulled the invitation from under her robes and held it up so Draco could read it. "You wouldn't happen to know who sent me this, now would you? Perhaps a cruel joke on your part?"
"Yes, I know who sent it. It was certainly not me, I would never invite you, a common Weasley. But, now, why would I want to assist you in any way? Hm? Anyway, I will tell you one thing, out of the goodness of my heart-"
"What heart?" she murmured under her breath.
"As I was saying, out of the goodness of my 'heart,' I will say that this is not a 'set up.' Now get out of my sight before I decide to condemn my life and yours by using an unforgivable curse on you."
"If you think I'm going to scatter off just because you threatened me, I'm not." She turned her head and made for Gryffindor Tower, purposely slower than normal, just to aggravate Malfoy.
