Odd Encounter
Disclaimer: Oh I wish these characters were mine. J.K. Rowling amazing.
The next day Ginny did her normal routine as usual, the dream barely entering her mind. She sat down at the breakfast table near Colin Creevey, who as of his fifth year seemed to have finally gotten over his Harry Potter obsession. The chatted a bit about the so far off-yet so quickly approaching O.W.L.s and then the mail came and Colin went off to show his brother a package their parents had sent. Ginny glanced around, waving at a few people but then glancing at the Slytherin table. She could make out a blonde head leaning down, reading a letter with a furrowed brow. Ginny pondered what it could be about to make him have such a serious look, but before she could think for long he got up from the table with a serious look on his face, carelessly motioning for Crabbe and Goyle not to bother following and continued out the door.
So why didn't he find time to insult her this year compared to others?
Colin came back then and began asking Ginny about what she thought his chances were with a 6th year he thought was cool, and her mind began to formulate the nicest possible way of informing Colin that she only liked flying motorcycle riders and or wizards with magical tongue rings. She left for class soon after, leaving Colin with a calculating expression, asking the people around him how much it would cost to rent a flying motorcycle and if they were allowed on school grounds.
Her first class Potions was normal, where Ginny gave Snape as little chance to make a crude remarks about her as possible, and having a comeback ready if he tried. He seemed more tense today and was more secluded than usual, but it beat the normal Snape, thought Ginny as she packed up her supplies after a semi-successful potion brewing of a cold remedy. She then threw her bag on her shoulder and walked to History of Magic, which after about ten minutes put her into a stupor that only an interesting thinking topic could pull her out of. Her mind returned to the dream... It was a pretty hot dream, she thought to herself. She had dreamt of Harry before like that, but nothing that...passionate. It was just so odd that it was with Malfoy. There had to be some reason. It gave her this feeling of hurt inside of her, and she had no idea why. What would he even think if he knew she had had that dream? Ginny thought. She passed the next five minutes with imagining different scenarios...one of which was a letter:
Dear Malfoy,
Just wanted to let you know I had a passionate dream
about you last night and you were really something.
Just wanted to inform you,
Ginny
That brought a smile to her face, and the rest of the class passed rather quickly.
On the way to lunch things got exciting. Ginny had taken a short cut that beat most of the traffic, but she wasn't the only one who didn't prefer crowds. Draco appeared the end of the corridor Ginny was walking in, Crabbe and Goyle on either side. He still had that furrowed serious face that he had had on earlier. They noticed Ginny a few moments after she noticed them, not being able to find a detour away fast enough. She bit her lip. Draco looked uncomfortable, as if he'd rather not be in this situation. Ginny realized that this would tell her if she was right about Draco being not his usual self this year. She wouldn't provoke him if all possible.
She started walking slower, not looking forward to the time when the three would have to pass her, the corridor wasn't the widest one. As the four got closer Crabbe and Goyle slowed down but Draco impatiently motioned for them to follow him, and he walked by Ginny with a stony expression and didn't say a thing. Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other confused, not sure why Draco didn't attack such an easy target. They then glared at her and hastened to catch up with Draco before he turned the corner at the end of the hall.
"Well that was weird" thought Ginny. "This proves he finally has something else to do besides torment me"
Then again Ginny wasn't so sure she liked him not giving her any attention.
