Disclaimer: If you recognize anything then I don't own it. Except for words, like "the" or "and". I don't think anyone owns them... maybe Mary and Webster. I wonder if they're actually people...

"Behind the basic principle of the current moral fashion: 'moral actions are actions performed out of sympathy for others', I see the social effect of timidity hiding behind an intellectual mask: it desires, first and foremost, that all the dangers which life once held should be removed from it, and that everyone should assist in this with all his might: hence only those actions which tend towards the common security and society's sense of security are to be accorded the predicate 'good'! [...]"

- Friedrich Nietzsche, Philosopher

Moral Fashion of a Commercial Society

By Sorrow in Shadow

Chapter One – Prejudice of the Learned

"The learned judge correctly that people of all ages have believed they know what is good and evil, praise – and blameworthy. But it is a prejudice of the learned that we now know better than any other age."

Ginny – Virginia, to be proper – Weasley sat uncomfortably crushed between sixth years Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom on the train that sped along on its sojourn back to Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Across from her bunched up knees sat Luna Lovegood, also wedged between two older students: Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. No one was doing much of anything. Hermione wrote hurried sentences in her leather-bound diary. Ginny scowled. Ever since her first year at Hogwarts, the redhead had despised diaries of any kind. She didn't trust them, and seeing the fervent look on Hermione's face as she put her every thought into writing made Ginny wrinkle her nose and look away.

Neville was staring out the window. At the end of last year he had finally seen the woman responsible for permanently crippling – emotionally speaking – his parents. Bellatrix Lestrange, convicted of several murders and pious loyalty to Voldemort. Still, Neville was returning to Hogwarts as something close to a hero. For that, Ginny was proud of her friend.

Luna read the latest edition of The Quibbler, upside down as usual. Since she was doing nothing of much interest, Ginny averted her gaze to Ron. Her older brother was stuffing his face shamelessly with chocolate frogs and Bertie Bots Every Flavor Beans. With a grimace of disgust concerning her brother's piggish eating habits, Ginny turned a now criticizing eye to Harry.

The boy she had crushed on for three years was in deep thought. Most likely contemplating the death of his beloved godfather, Sirius. Frowning to herself, Ginny fiddled with her fingers, gazing at the unpainted, yet long, nails that gave her the immense scratching power her brothers had learned to fear and loathe over the summer. A satisfying smile worked its way onto the young woman's pretty face as she clicked her nails together. Ron shuddered slightly before burying his face into the beheaded chocolate frog he was tormenting at the moment.

What fun this year was going to be, even without Fred and George. She could full-out torture her older brother and he'd have no one left to turn to. Fred and George were gone; besides, they would most likely make fun of him instead of her. Percy. The prat. She cursed, resisting the urge to snarl. Bill and Charlie were long gone, so all Ron would be able to do would be to write them and complain about all the new scabs he'd received from the "feminine tentacles" of his little sister.

Secretly, Ginny was hoping that everyone would notice that she wasn't so little after all. Thin, yes, but not disgustingly so. In fact, she was rather attractive in that happy-go-lucky way. Maybe not even that. Ginny smiled to herself and fingered her bright, atrociously red hair. Maybe this year would be different. Since the end of her fourth year she had been dating Dean Thomas. This practically infuriated her brother, Ron, even though Dean was a close friend of his.

In a somewhat evil mannerism, Ginny enjoyed watching them have a row about her. It made her feel important, to be blunt. A frown swept across her gentle features. Why did she have to feel important? Oh who are you kidding, Ginny? Doesn't everyone? She thought to herself, feeling the familiar scowl shape her lips.

Was it just her surprisingly accurate intuition, or had she grown more disgruntled over the summer? She harbored anger and resentment where everyone else held pity, that was certain. Especially towards Harry. He had been such a clueless prat most of last year, always yelling at somebody over something. Couldn't that illustrious nut get over himself and his emotions? He really wasn't all that vain, as Ginny knew from his humbling time spent with the infamous Dursley's. But his emotions... Who did that boy think he was? Acting the hero all the time, as if it were an innate ability handed down from father to son.

Ginny didn't know why she was suddenly so berating towards Harry, but her mind flashed with questions and unexplained actions. Why was he so glorified? Lord, she had seen him with the vivacious Cho Chang, the Ravenclaw Seeker now dating her previous boyfriend. He was hopeless when it came to girls. Hermione had a better chance with Cho than Harry did! At this rate anyway.

Brushing away that disturbing thought and the image provided with it, Ginny dared a peek at Harry. He was still staring into the space before him, the space occupied by Hermione and her quickly scribbling quill. Ginny had a feeling that Harry wasn't looking directly at Hermione, but into a bleak and painful nothing. Like penetrating the sky with your eyes to see if you can find what it's hiding behind all the billowing clouds. He was most likely pitying himself. Again.

Ginny felt slightly guilty for saying that, but she found it hard to tolerate with people who felt bad for themselves. Even if that was being slightly hypocritical, it went with the saying 'Do as I say, not as I do'. Sorrow, she thought, is the root of self-pity. With those words of unexpected wisdom broadening her mind, Ginny nodded understandingly. Sirius had died, beyond the veil, and Harry was overcome with an immense feeling of grief, thus causing him to pity himself for the misfortune happened upon him.

It made sense. If sorrow truly was the root of self-pity, then the way Harry was acting was completely and unsettlingly normal. Still, Ginny was tired to being part of something grand without fishing in any of the grandeur herself. If everyone expected her to simply stand on the sidelines and lend nothing more than a helping hand, then they could think again. This year, Virginia Weasley was going to become a woman.

The Hogwarts Express slowed to a halt at the Hogsmeade Station, and Ginny felt everyone around her rise and begin to gather their things. Even Harry, which meant that his reverie must've been a much less interesting one than her own contemplations. That thought alone disturbed her. What was in that boy's mind, then? She shook her head in scolding after she thought whether or not his head would sound hollow were she to knock on it with her fist.

Come now, Ginny, be nice. This was great. She was talking to herself. Well, she thought bitterly, at least I'm more interesting than anyone else on this bloody train!

After deciding that she'd much rather have a conversation with herself anyway, Ginny gathered her things and exited the train behind the visibly wheezing Neville, who was having trouble carrying his trunk and keeping a firm hold on Trevor the toad at the same time. With a sigh of mixed sympathy and annoyance, Ginny whipped out her wand from her ready pocket and pointed it at the suitcase, then, with a sly grin, thought better of it and aimed at the poor, petrified Trevor instead. "Wingardium Leviosa!" she chanted as Trevor the toad started to float a few feet higher into the air than Neville's fist had already suspended him.

Trevor puffed out his blotchy breast and croaked loudly. Neville started and looked back towards Trevor in terror. A few other students laughed, and the toad, taking this for their recognition of him as a celebrity (which is what he had always wanted), began to croak louder and louder, attracting the unwanted attention of several more students. The unwanted part coming from the boasting Slytherins. Out of pure pity, Ginny swished her wand once more, muttering "Silencio!" almost under her breath. Trevor immediately stopped croaking, even though his gaping mouth kept opening and closing in a rhythmic manner. To tell the truth, Ginny thought he looked crest-fallen.

"Nice toad you've got there, Longbottom," drawled a voice she only knew too well. "Does it dance too?" Neville looked at a complete loss for words, and Ginny felt it suitable to come to his rescue, seeing as it was her fault Trevor had been staged in mid-air anyhow.

"No, but now that you mention it, I can make it dance in your pants," Draco Malfoy scowled. Ginny took great pleasure in this and smiled. "Maybe for fun I'll add some flies in there too, eh? See how fast you can dance as well? And let me guess, with all your filthy piles of coins, I'm sure you've had excellent tutoring in the ways of moving your sluggish feet."

Draco sneered. "We'll see how much you enjoy your feet next time you're on the dance floor, Weasley," he scoffed, and a laugh – more of a shriek, really – came from his arm candy, the infamous blabbermouth Pansy Parkinson. For a moment he looked absolutely disgusted, but seemed to mentally shrug it off.

Ginny's eyebrows raised themselves in an imposing manner. "Is that a threat, Malfoy?" she asked, her warm brown eyes boring into his icy gray ones. "Or are you trying to be a gentleman?"

"Maybe you'll see in time, Weasley," he said, raising one slick blonde brow before turning to leave; his arm to which Pansy clutched as if for dear life limp at his side. If she didn't know better, and she did, then he was thoroughly annoyed with the Parkinson girl. Ginny gave her a criticizing glance. She wasn't very pretty, and reminded her very much of a pug dog. It fit her well. Draco's submissive lap dog.

This was going to be an interesting year, Ginny was certain. How interesting, she was soon to find out. Snatching Trevor out of the air and returning the disappointed toad to its ecstatic owner once they were all off the train, Ginny glanced into the coming darkness before her, and saw the glowing windows of the Hogwarts Castle. They were so warm and inviting. Never before had Ginny felt so right in coming here.

If living with Fred and George had given her any specific notions or traits, she had hidden them well. Until now, of course. With both her brothers successfully running a joke shop in Diagon Alley – of all places! – the title of Prankster was open. Folding her arms under her substantial breasts, Ginny felt a grin of satisfaction sweep across her face. She felt like a new person; and all the better, she knew who her first prank victim would be.

"He has very sleek hair," she noted warily, glancing after the forms of Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Crabbe, and Goyle, as they ascended the steps into the believed-until-recently-horseless carriages that took them all to Hogwarts Castle. "I wonder if he prizes it above all his other... features."

(A/N: So there's the first chapter... Sorry about the Hermione story "The Rest is Silence". I just had an impulse for Ginny and Draco, so I decided to start anew. I'll continue Hermione's tale later on. I want to explore these two "sideline" characters...)