Chapter Three: Back to school Apologies

The first two weeks of school were normal. Pretty close anyway. It had taken all of a morning for the gossip surrounding her advancement to die down. There wasn't really anything to say other than "did you hear" and everyone had.

The biggest difference was that Ginevra now had Hermione in most of her classes and her brother and Harry in more than one. Herbology was great now that she shared a station with Neville, but Neville didn't take NEWT Potions and Ginevra was stuck at a table with the trio in a room with Malfoy. Oh, and he was in most of her classes as well. Why weren't NEWT classes divided by house?

Normal for Ginevra meant popularity. No one seemed to notice that she spent most of her time with two of the most unpopular people in the school. All they cared about was how she dressed and whether or not she said "Hi" back to them in the hall. To Ginevra, popularity meant annoyances. It meant random people trying to talk to her. It meant random boys asking her to Hogsmeade even though the first trip was still over a month away. It wasn't as though she ever did anything to encourage this behavior. She wasn't outgoing. She didn't strike up random conversations with random people in effort to make friends. She didn't gossip. All she did was respond politely and breath. Apparently that was enough.

The truth was that Ginevra was beautiful. Ginevra was talented. Ginevra was intelligent. Most of all, however, was that Ginevra was not arrogant. She had ever reason to be and yet she was kind and polite. That was what made Ginevra popular.

Unfortunately, popularity meant attention and attention meant acting. Oh, it wasn't that she had to act in order to be kind, that really was her nature. It was simply that she had to act in order to be happy. She may have been kind, but she did not like to be around people, they annoyed her. They wanted to know things that were not their business. If she ever failed to smile half the school wanted to know why. If she was ever in a bad mood a witch hunt, no pun intended, was mounted to find the reason. In other words, she had to act as though she enjoyed being popular and reveled in the constant attention when she preferred shadows and anonymity.

Everyone thought Ginny Weasley was perfect. They all thought she had it all together. She had a wonderful loving family. She had devoted friends. She was the Gryffindor Princess, the poster child for the Light. In truth, Ginevra Weasley felt alone, she knew it was her fault for never letting anyone see the real her, but she still felt alone. She was also almost always confused, and this year had only made things worse.

Something had happened over the summer. Ever since that night when they had gone to the Ministry with Harry something had been laying heavily on her mind. They had all known Tom was back, (she would always call him Tom, how could stop?) but now the war had really started, and she had been in the first battle. She had thrown curses and hexes at death eaters; she had tried to hurt other people. She knew they were the "bad guys" but it was still knew to her. Well, hexing Malfoy didn't count. Malfoy. He had a lot to do with her confusion.

After that night she had begun to examine what she believed and why she believed it. She believed people were equal, muggleborn, pureblood, squib, and muggle, they all deserved the same chance at a successful life. She also believed that station didn't matter. Being rich might give one quite an advantage in the world, but as a person it didn't make a bit of difference. She believed people were defined by their decisions, not their birth. She also believed people deserved the chance to change. Here is where she began running into problems. She believed that there is no excuse for hate, under any circumstances. She believed in justice, yes, and she believed that people should meet the consequences of their actions, but you hate their actions, their choices, not them. She had tested this on Tom, even on Luscious, and held true to her beliefs. The problem was Draco. She hated him. She flat out hated the arrogant, stuck up, spoiled, cruel, ruthless, cold, unfeeling, rude, racist, purist, foul mouthed, blithering git. Here her world fell apart. Here he was, the son of the death eater extraordinaire, never given the chance to be anything but what he was. Here she was, claiming to have high ideals. Shouldn't she, according to all she claimed to hold dear, reach out? Shouldn't give him the chance to change? Had anyone? Had anyone really given him the opportunity to be good? How could anyone expect him to break everything his father taught him, betray everything his father stands for, and risk everything when, in all likely hood, no one would believe him? And what was the point of having ideals if you don't live up to them?

She sighed. She was sitting in the Astronomy tower looking out across the grounds. It was a beautiful Saturday and she could here the sound of laughter and yelling even all the way up here. As if she didn't have enough problems. Why did she have to go and decide to grow up? She took off her lace gloves and looked at her arms. There was enough darkness in her life; she didn't need this. It had taken her so long to get Tom out of her head. It had taken her so long to accept the fact that she had not gotten him out, that he would never go away. It had taken her so long to understand shades of grey and innocence. Now she had to start over. Now she had to prove to herself that her worldview was valid, that it was possible, that she was capable of holding her own ideals.

Ginevra was a bit distracted in Potions. She knew that after class was the best time to do this but she still wasn't sure she wanted to. Every five minutes she would change her mind. I mean, it isn't like he wants a chance to change. Chop the roots in perfectly equal bits. But it doesn't really matter what he wants, does it? This is about me; this is about me refusing to be a hypocrite. Stir counterclockwise five times. Not that I'm calling everyone else hypocrites. Add the measured lemon juice. Now that's not something you would expect to be in a magic potion. Am I calling them hypocrites?

Somehow she made it through class and her potion even looked like it was supposed to. She purposefully left her parchment on her desk and made her way out of the classroom with the others. They sat in the back and were therefore almost always first to leave; he sat in the front, and if she timed it right...

"Oh! I left my parchment on the desk! I'll see you at lunch." Ginevra dashed back into the room before anyone could respond. Luckily they continued on their way.

She hadn't passed him on her way back in so when she reached the door she took a deep breath. She went to her desk and collected her parchment, judging her speed perfectly to arrive at the door just after he did. Once they were out in the corridor she closed her eyes for a second, steeled herself, and spoke.

"Malfoy." She waited for him to turn around. When he did so he had one eyebrow raised and looked as though he was preparing for a battle of the wits, not that she expected anything else.

"I, I just wanted to apologize." Malfoy actually looked surprised. "I mean, my alloy and Oedipus comments were uncalled for, and I am sorry I called you either." She braced herself for what she was sure to come.

"Just those two insults, Weasel?" She wasn't sure if he was confused or taking a sadistic pleasure out of her obvious discomfort. Little did she know it was both. He honestly had no idea what was going on, deciding it was best to stay on his guard lest this some kind of set up.

"Yes, just those two, Ferret. Everything else was merely an in kind response to statements you made first. Those two were below the belt, however, and were undeserved regardless of anything you may have said." She was almost panting, breathing had, for some reason, become difficult. She closed her eyes. She needed to get out of here before he recovered; she didn't think she could handle any kind of battle right now, of the wits or not. "Anyway, just wanted to apologize and I have." She quickly left his presence headed who knows where, anywhere but near him.

Draco just stood there. Was she playing some kind of game with him? Trying to mess with his head? If she was, she had no idea what she was getting herself into... But she had looked so sincere, frightened even. The last time she had looked frightened was, well, was the beginning of her second year when she was worried about how people would treat her after the whole Chamber incident. Now that was something he wanted to know about. He knew there was more to it than her being kidnapped and taken into the Chamber, she was a pureblood after all, but he still didn't know what. That, however, had nothing to do with this, at least, he didn't see how it could. All he knew was that a Weasel had apologized for something he had begrudgingly respected her for. Maybe that was it, maybe it was her way of once again making her point that Weasels were better than the Malfoys who were evil. The only problem with that being there was no way she could have known his reaction. And what was wrong with those insults anyway? They were the best insults he had ever been given! Okay, now things were getting weird. Sure, he had been looking forward to the finally challenging encounters with the littlest weasel, but he couldn't be mad at her just because the apology meant she would be holding back from similar statements in the future, could he? Yes, it was mind games, it had to be mind games, look at him, he had never been this confused in life, it was mind games, and he wouldn't let them work!

Unfortunately for Draco, if they had been mind games they would have worked perfectly. He could think of nothing else but the littlest weasel's apology all day. It didn't stop there, either. For the next two weeks, if he stopped occupying his mind something, anything else, he would drift back to the problem of why she apologized. If he hadn't been too busy avoiding her in order to avoid thinking about her, he might have noticed she was avoiding him as well.