The Year of Insanity and Perverty Insinuations


Disclaimer: I don't own HP. Because if I did, I wouldn't allow fanfiction to exist, muahahaha…

A/N: Hmm. Kinda disappointed with the reviews on chapter 3. Considering there were only THREE that reviewed…oh well. Win some, lose some. Anyway, since I posted this after HBP ( which I read by the way ), this pairing is officially no longer possible in the canon world. This story is now pre-HBP 'kay 'kay? Now, on with the show.

Another A/N: I also realized when it was way too late to fix it that Hermione was ALSO a prefect. So, I decided, that in this fic, Hermione is not a prefect. Besides, heh, it might ruin what I have in store for her…

Chapter 4


The next morning at the Great Hall, Ginny was sitting meekly between Harry and Ron, who was next to Hermione, who was giving Gin curious stares every now and then. Ugh. I'm so stupid. Why did I fall over last night? Harry, being oblivious and thoughtful as he usually is, did not notice the redheaded girl having a sheepish expression from Hermione's continuous gaze. She continued to poke at her squashy oatmeal, watching it jiggle and make funny noises. Bleh. She pushed back the bowl and leaned back on her chair, blowing a few strands of hair out of her face.

A few minutes later, Professor McGonagall strode into view, handing Gryffindors their class schedules. Ginny received hers, and she scrutinized it, narrowing her eyes.

"Oh blast," she said absentmindedly, "I only have 3 classes with Gia." (Come on, you guys remember her right! Ginny's best friend!)

"ARGH! Not again! Double potions! Why me!" bellowed Ron, who was shoveling the jiggly oatmeal into his mouth at warp speed. Hermione winced at the flying bits of food particles. Harry gave out a low whistle.

"Can't get any worse than this."

"Tell me about it," moaned Ron.

Hermione rolled her eyes and adamantly replied, "Whining isn't going to do you any good, boys."

The brunette then rose with her things in tow. "Let's get going. We've got Transfiguration first thing this morning."

Harry and Ron then grudgingly stood up and started to follow Hermione out of the Great Hall, leaving Ginny by her lonesome self. Aww. She looked around the Great Hall once more before getting up, pushing back her chair, and walked out with her things in tow.

As she started towards Potions, she unzipped her bag, and dug her hand in, rummaging for something. A few seconds later, she pulled out the current novel she was reading, Speak, and flipped it to page 35. Her eyes roved for her spot and she found it; she stuck her nose in, forgetting everything else around her. Bad Ginny, bad.

As she rounded a corner, and as predicted and clichéd as possible, she bumped slightly against an unknown body, the other's shoulder making her drop her book on the ground. She immediately looked up to see the culprit and froze when she saw it was Malfoy, a sneer covering his face. Of all people, it had to be him. Me and my accursed luck.

"Watch where you're going, Weaslette," he spat out, "now I have to burn my robes."

At that, she bristled indignantly and replied acidly, "Like you're one to talk, you oaf. Your nose is so high up in the air you can't even see where you're bloody going." She stooped down to pick up her book but he snatched it from her hands, looking at the cover. He sniffed.

"What's this rubbish? Speak? You're learning how to talk appropriately? You speak when addressed by an elder or superior. Otherwise, you shut your gob the whole time."

Ginny opened her mouth and closed it, repeating the actions twice more before wresting the book away from him. She wiped it with the hem of her sleeve, imitating his sniff.

"Hopefully you'll have to amputate your slimy hands since you touched my things." She stuffed the book back in her bag and briskly walked passed him, towards her destination while he, in turn, threw her a weak glare before walking in the opposite direction.


Two classes and one kip later, it was time for Charms. Georgia slid into a seat next to Ginny near the back as other people were filing in.

Gia tucked blond strands of hair behind her ears. "So, Ginny, why didn't you wait for me this morning?"

"Hanh? What do you mean?"

"I mean," the blond repeated with a sigh, "you left right after breakfast and I didn't realize it until the mealtime was over. Oh well, what's done is done."

"Oh, sorry, love, I forgot," the redhead said meekly. "I'm forgetting a lot these days."

Gia wrinkled her nose in agreement. "Damn straight."

"Oh shut up."

She drew the word out slowly. "Nope."

Ginny turned around to reply, but just as she was about to, Professor Flitwick came bustling in, commanding the classroom with his squeaky voice. ( snort, yeah right. )

"All right, everybody! Enough dilly-dallying! Let's get started, hmm?"


"Gin, I feel like going to the library."

Class was officially over for today and after a boring supper, the two palsies were heading towards a random direction. The Trio had scampered off to do whatever mischief they do and so they had nothing to do for tonight. All right, they BOTH had some homework, but that could be done later, right? Right.

"Okay, Gia, let's. But first, let me put my things in Gryffindor. I'll meet you there in 15."

The two parted their ways at the bottom of some stairs and Ginny went up, lugging her things. Rawr, I've got too many things jammed in. I really shouldn't bring so many books along for free reading. Damn, these stairs are huge. If I don't hurry it up, this bag'll-

And as if on cue, the bag split open, a vicious tear running straight through the back, whereupon her books and miscellaneous tumbled out. A few seconds passed before she slammed her bag on the ground and began picking her things up, a string of colorful expletives coming out of her mouth none too quietly. A chuckle was issued in front of her, and she whipped her head up. Her face fell as low as it could get without dropping on the floor.

"Argh," she cried lightly, and continued to gather her books into a pile. He smirked and turned up his nose.

"Have some respect for your superiors, girl."

She didn't look up. "I will if I run into one."

She got up, her things stuffed in her torn bag. Her hand was gripping the slash, bunching the fabric to prevent her books from falling. Ginny held her head high as she tried to charge ahead but Malfoy, the git that he was, started to walk down the stairs the same time she was going up, causing them to do that weird thing where both of you went to one side, then the other, in tandem.

After a few seconds of this going on, she finally stepped aside, letting him pass, but blowing him a nasty raspberry all the same. He raised an eyebrow and leered at her, baring his pearly whites.

"I advise you not to mess with me, Little Weaslette. I am a force to be reckoned with." The sentence came out low and drawled, unnerving the redhead slightly, but not enough to hand over her pride on a platter. She steeled her shoulders and haughtily looked him in the eyes.

"Bring. It. On." At that, she swept by him and continued her way up, until she had reached the top and turned on a corner, without another glance bestowed.

Oh! That Malfoy pisses me off to the point of exploding! Him and his snobby rudeness! Him and his egotistical hulk of a personality! How I would love to knee him in the-!

Angrily shouting the password, the Fat Lady let her enter with an "Hmph!" She stomped her way through the common room, up the stairs and into the rooms, her bag swinging about dangerously.

Five minutes later, she treaded the steps lightly, having brightened her mood by screaming into a pillow for a full minute without breathing. I feel so much better. I could even-

"-really should tell him, Hermione."

"I don't want to, though."

Ginny froze, her foot poised to hit the last step. She crouched down dared a peek at the scene in the Common Room.

"Look, I don't think this is going to ruin anything at all," Harry said earnestly. "Besides, it's about time you two stopped beating around the bush."

"Harry, you are insufferable. Come on, let's get going. We'll be late."

The two waltzed through the portrait door, laughing. The redhead came down, a gleeful expression covering her entire face. Huahahaha! I knew it! Hermione fancies Ron! Now all there is to do is fix 'em up! Bristling with excitement at the discovered news, she happily skipped through the door, heading towards the library for her scheduled rendezvous.

"Georgia!"

"Eek! God, you scared me!"

Ginny sat down across from her buddy, who had surrounded herself with parchment, books, and an elegant-looking quill.

"Guess what I found out less than 10 minutes ago, Gia," gushed Ginny. Georgia leaned over the table, her green eyes wide with anticipation. "What?"

Psshpsstpssrrpsshhrrtt…

"No!"

"Yes!"

They both sat back down with a thump on their chairs; perhaps Gia's being the most depressed and heaviest. It dawned on Ginny.

"Oh no…"

"It's okay, I knew this would happen sooner or later anyway…"

The redhead squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. I'm such a horrible friend! How could I tell her that! She straightened her shoulders and smiled gigantically.

"Well then, let's hit the books, Gia! We haven't got all night, you know! And the better it is to forget about my stupid ogre brother too!"


It was a sleepy Ginny that trailed off to Gryffindor after an intense study session with Georgia in which the redhead completed copious amounts of homework and had shed blood and tears over a Potions essay. Snape is evil. I will tear him limb from limb the next time I see him. Okay, maybe not, but the readers know what I mean.

As she passed by a small niche covered in shadows, a high-pitched giggle could be heard from the recess. Ginny froze, and turned her head in the direction of the sound. A few more giggles and then a distinct male voice shushed her. The redhead made a face of utmost distaste, wrinkling her nose for good measure. She took a step forward, determined to ignore the hormonal spectacle, when the couple abruptly stepped out.

A flushed Pansy was leaning on a pale Malfoy as they met Ginny in a standstill. The redhead stared at the blonde. Her lips were bruised and read. A bite mark was seen evident on her collarbone. Her clothes were rumpled and creased, as were Malfoy's. Suddenly, she felt herself get so pissed at them for no particular reason. Her brown eyes expanded rapidly, her glare boring into them, until she turned on her heel and walked off without another word.

Parkinson blinked a few times before yawning languidly and saying in a snide tone, "What got up her arse? Hmm, probably jealous that she can't get any, right Draco?"

He raised a one elegant eyebrow upwards and replied, "Right."


I finally got done, oh my gods! Whoo! You non-writers out there have no idea how horrible writer's block is! If you wouldn't mind, please review now.