Morning came very quickly. Draco, the first to wake in his dormitory, got dressed and started down the stairs. Midway down, however, he changed his mind and went to get his broom. Instead of going to the Great Hall for breakfast, he headed straight down to the Quidditch pitch. No one would be down there at this hour and he could fly around the pitch at his leisure. But when he arrived he found that he was not the only one who wanted to be alone.
Ginny Weasley was standing outside the Gryffindor changing rooms, holding her broom in one hand and a Quaffle in the other. "Hello," she said. "What brings you here?"
"As if that's any of your business," he sneered.
"I'm only trying to be friendly," she said defensively.
"Don't waste your breath." Draco mounted his broom and pushed off from the ground. Once he reached a fairly high height, he looked down. The Gryffindor girl, he found, was no longer there.
"Heads up!" she shouted, and he turned just in time to roughly catch the Quaffle that was soaring towards him.
Having nearly fallen from his broom, he held onto the ball and straightened himself up. "What's your problem?" he yelled to her, hurling the Quaffle in her direction. Instead of sailing into her hands, it fell a few feet short and Ginny broke into a dive to catch it. He watched her until she caught it, and then Draco flew up to the goalposts, circling them and weaving in and out.
"You know, my brothers hate your guts, but I don't think you're that bad." Ginny was suddenly beside him.
Completely taken aback, he said, "Why are you even speaking to me? You're a Gryffindor, and I'm a Slytherin--we don't get along, remember?"
She threw the Quaffle at his chest. "I don't conform to those things, like some people do. Besides, you're different. I've seen the way you act towards Crabbe and Goyle--you used to like them, but now you don't. You ignore almost everyone else and just act like some kind of antisocial."
"I'm not going to kill anyone, if that's what you mean," Draco replied nonchalantly.
"I wasn't implying anything of the sort." Ginny smiled. "I'd better get some breakfast. But I suppose you'll want to keep your distance from me." She flew down to the ground and gracefully dismounted her broom.
Without truly knowing why, Draco followed her down to the pitch. Luckily, she didn't turn around, and he was able to walk behind her without her knowing. He didn't understand why, but he wished she would talk to him more. The frightening thing was, though, that the thought of it didn't bother him much or even at all. He followed her straight into the Great Hall and sat down at the Slytherin's table. "Hello, Blaise."
"You're awfully late," Blaise Zabini said. "If you don't finish up quickly, you'll be late, and McGonagall will have your head if you're late."
"Calm down," he said, gulping down his glass of orange juice.
"I'd rather have Potions first," Blaise stated nervously. "Least I don't have to worry about Snape--he's fair to us Slytherins, unlike her. McGonagall's only nice to those Gryffindors."
Draco rolled his eyes. "Maybe you should see Madam Pomfrey. She could get rid of those nerves that you've got. Besides, you're annoying me."
"Oh, shove off." Blaise grabbed his things and left the Great Hall.
Draco looked after him, rolling his eyes, and looked over the class schedule. He had Transfigurations first, then Potions, and after lunch, Astronomy. "Wonderful," he sighed, then finished his breakfast and walked down to Transfigurations. When he reached the classroom, realizing he was quite late, he sauntered in with the usual sneer on his face.
"Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall said slowly, "how nice to see you. Let's see, five points from Slytherin for your tardiness."
Draco gave her a look of indifference and took a seat. Ron Weasley, who he had sat down next to by mistake, inched away, giving Draco a look of extreme disgust. Ignoring him, Draco spent the rest of the class period scribbling notes onto his parchment and drawing in the margin.
"Mr. Malfoy," Professor McGonagall said suddenly, right before him. "Class is dismissed. You can go now."
Snapping out of his daze, he grabbed his books and hurried out of the classroom, not even bothering to put them in his bag. The rest of the day was just as boring. Professor Snape ended up taking fifteen points from Gryffindor for various things involving Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, but the rest of the day was very uneventful. For that matter, until Quidditch began in October, the first two months of school were highly uneventful.
It was October the thirteenth. Draco was atop his Nimbus 2001, staring down at the pitch far below. The Snitch was somewhere, but he hadn't spotted it yet. The Ravenclaw Seeker hadn't either, by the looks of it. The other Seeker was gliding about the pitch, jerking his broom this way and that, in order to get a better view. Draco had decided to simply stay where he was. There was no use flying about like a fool--it would show itself when it wanted to. He had been ignoring the scores that were constantly being called out, but Slytherin seemed to be winning. They usually did, of course, unless they were playing against Gryffindor. He glanced around, looking for any hint of gold. And then he saw it, a golden glimmer among the stands. The Snitch was fluttering next to the Headmaster's head--it was right below his left ear. Without hesitation, Draco shot off toward the topmost box. He bolted straight across the pitch, unaware of whether or not the Ravenclaw Seeker was on his way. When he was only inches away from catching the little golden ball, however, he barreled into Professor McGonagall. Moments later, the Ravenclaw Seeker tumbled into Professor Trelawney, who shrieked and toppled over.
The Snitch was long gone and the match had to be cancelled. Professors McGonagall, Trelawney, and Dumbledore were sent to the Hospital Wing to be patched up (Trelawney had knocked the Headmaster to the floorboards when she fell).
Draco felt miserable, more miserable than usual. He hurled a particularly large stone into the lake and leaned back against the oak tree. He heaved a sigh and closed his eyes. His father was in trouble with the Ministry of Magic--he had to be or else there wouldn't be this much secrecy. Lucius Malfoy had always been a secretive man, but he had never been so blatantly guarded with his own son. Draco angrily tossed his broom aside. What use was it if he was going to miss the Snitch and send three professors to the Hospital Wing? He threw another stone into the lake, grunting furiously.
"Nice throw. Maybe you should be a Chaser instead." Ginny Weasley walked out in front of him. "Can I sit down?"
"Do what you want," he said, not looking at her.
"I'm sorry about what happened at the match." She took off her sweater and dropped it at her side. "It was a freak accident, Draco…the odds of that happening are--"
"Look, you don't have to try to make me feel better," he interrupted. "I'm not upset about the match. We'll just play it again, I guess."
"Well, er, what are you upset about?" Ginny questioned, moving closer to him.
"Nothing," he answered quickly. "It's nothing." He stood up suddenly. "And if it was something, I wouldn't want to talk about it." He slung his bag over his shoulder and picked up his broomstick. "Sorry, I'd better go. I've got three rolls of parchment due for Snape in the morning. Erm, sorry." He started off toward the castle, but she called after him.
"Draco! Draco, wait!" She ran to catch up with him. "There's a Hogsmeade weekend coming up."
"I wasn't planning on going," he said before she could continue.
"Well, maybe you'd like to come along with me," Ginny offered. "It would just be the two of us--no Ron, or Hermione, or Harry, just you and me."
"Er...sure, I guess," Draco replied.
She smiled at him. "Great. Do you want to walk back together?"
He shrugged. "Why are you being so nice to me, anyway?"
"I don't know," she responded. "Everybody deserves a second chance, though, don't you think?"
Draco nodded. "Yeah." They parted at the stairs and Draco went down to the Slytherin common room. For some reason, he was actually looking forward to the weekend. He and Ginny seemed to be becoming friends. He wrote a few more lines in his Potions essay about the misuse of truth potions, just to put himself over three rolls, and stuffed the parchment into his bag. A girl sat down beside him. "Hey, Kat."
She put an arm around his shoulders. "Poor Draco, are you recovering from the Quidditch match?"
"Yes, I've recovered," he replied, leaning back on her arm.
"Ouch! Hey!" Kat laughed and smacked his arm. "Guess what?" He looked at her. "Blaise Zabini is taking me to Hogsmeade."
"Oh, really?" He pat her head. "I'm sorry, now you're going to have to listen to his insufferable worrying all day."
Kat shrugged. "I think he's kind of cute."
"Cute?" Draco laughed. "I think you mean irritating."
"No, I mean cute," Kat insisted.
"All right." He looked over as someone emerged from the portrait hole. "Blaise is here, Kat. Why don't you talk to him?"
"No, that's all right, I--" Kat sputtered.
"Hello, Katherine," Blaise said a little nervously.
She gave him a small smile as Draco stood up. "Well, I'll just leave you two alone," he said and headed to his dormitory. As he made his way up the staircase, he heard Kat say quietly, "You can call me Kat." He laughed a little and closed the door. It was late and he needed to get some sleep. In just a few days he would be walking along the path to Hogsmeade village.