Thursday morning Ginny awoke with a groan to the rustling and banging of her roommates getting ready for the day. She typically rose well after them. She had long ago figured out that if she heaved herself out of bed about five minutes after they left for breakfast she would have exactly enough time to throw on some clothes and make it to class on time.
Her mind came into consciousness grudgingly and resistant. What day is it? Thursday. Arthimancy. Did I do my homework? Fuck. I gave up halfway through last night. Ginny let out an even loader groan and rolled over violently throwing her warm crimson sheets over her head and tucking them securely around her body. This startled a nearby roommate who gave a little jump and shot Ginny a look of what could almost be described as fear. Admittedly, Ginny's fellow sixth year Gryffindors generally thought she was pretty weird.
When the dormitory finally became silent following a last bang of the door, Ginny rolled over again and resumed the mental battle her mind raged every weekday morning. I don't really need to go to class, it's not like I pay attention anyway. But I've already missed quite a few classes, though Professor Vector hardly ever takes attendance. But if she does, I risk detention. But I didn't finish my homework and my bed is just so damn warm. This morning the lazier side of Ginny was victorious, and she allowed herself to plunge back into glorious sleep.
Later that afternoon Ginny sat on her bed in her pajamas enjoying the quiet and gazing out at the blue sky and sunlit grounds. Her mind kept drifting back to the same disturbing subject: Harry. After she had fallen back asleep that morning she dreamt of him lying suffering in a prison and calling out her name. She had kept trying to get to him, but couldn't find a way to get through the bars. She had finally awoke with the sinking feeling that she had failed him: in the dream and in reality.
Could she have fought harder to get through to him? He was under so much stress, she had had no right to get angry at him. She could have just let him alone and supported him. Those deep green eyes haunted her constantly. Softly, Ginny began to cry, for she had truly loved Harry and now he might die. She desisted immediately though as she heard the door opening, furiously wiping tears to her eyes and mumbling a convenient spell she had discovered that year that unpuffed her eyes and unreddened her face. The spell had gotten a lot of use from her recently.
"Ginny babe?" Lavender's perky face peered around the door. "What up, you little skiver." Ginny forced a laugh as Lavender plopped down on the bed next to her.
"Well, you know I needed to conserve my energy for tonight." Ginny responded offhandedly.
"Good to see you've got your priorities straight." giggled Lavender, "As a matter of fact I've got quite the shindig lined up for tonight."
"Shindig?"
"Don't ask, I have no idea where that came from." Both laughing, the two girls giddily discussed the night's plans as well as which boys they hopped to bump into that night. The "Shindig" turned out to be a fairly exclusive party being held by Blaise Zambini. Last weekend, Lavender had gotten quite cozy with his cousin who was in Ravenclaw, and he had invited her and a friend.
Ginny paused and shot Lavender a look of doubt on entering the room and seeing that the party was made up of almost entirely Slytherins but Lavender merely shrugged though she appeared a little surprised as well at this new development. Of all the crazy things these two girls had done, they had never partied with Slytherins, but hey, they were always up for new experiences.
Four hours latter the two girls were dancing on a table with Blaise and a sandy-haired sixth year boy swigging Witch's Warm Wonderful Wine straight from the bottle. The sandy-haired boy was a bit of a dolt and also happened to be coming on very strong to Ginny. After the two had been dancing rather close for some time he reached down and met her mouth with his in a sloppy drunken kiss. At first, Ginny obliged but then, all of a sudden, a particular set of green eyes popped into her head along with all the misery she'd been feeling all day. She quickly pushed him away and stumbled off the table pushing through a crowd of people to enter a smaller room containing a couple couches.
For a minute she just stood there taking in staggered breaths and trying not to cry. Eventually, she glanced around the room, noticing that it was very dark, the sole light originating from a small lamp in the corner which illuminated a familiar figure sitting alone clutching some sort of liquor bottle.
"Weasley! Who invited you here? In case you haven't noticed this is Slytherin territory and blood traitors are not welcome. Scram!"
Ginny, usually quick with a comeback, was in no mood for conflict. For a moment she simply gazed at Malfoy with a dazed expression then quietly turned and left. Only when she was back in dormitory did she realized what she had witnessed. Had Malfoy been crying?