The Red Haired Weasel and the Amazing Bouncing Ferret

Ginny Weasley

September 10th 10:36 a.m.-Transfigurations

Current Number of arguments with Draco Malfoy today: 7

Current number of arguments with Ron: 2

Current number of successful attempts to avoid said Malfoy: 0

Okay, let’s go ahead and get this out of the way *right now.*

I am not afraid of Malfoy.

I’m not.

But since out public display of hatred, everywhere I’ve gone, there he’s been, leering. Leering like a… uh… despicable animal that leers.

Right. Exactly.

It’s not even that it can be said that his reasoning is that he wants to fight or punish me for the other day. The aforementioned rows were actually instances in which I screamed at him, having lost all patience (and the arguments with Ron were due, of course, to my getting an insane amount of points taken away from our house in one day-guess how these points were lost). No, that irritating, arrogant, self absorbed slime ball (note to self: learn some new, degrading nouns) just keeps crossing my path, sneering and…leering. Yes.

And it’s only 10:30 in the morning. That means that by dinner I’ll have had about a total of *28* public screaming matches with that…New nouns-get them!

Oops, McGonagall is frowning at me.

6:32 p.m.-dinner

I’m starting to borrow pages from Hermione’s book. I’ve taken to using mirrors to check around corners for snakes. Of course, mine is 17 and blond while hers was like 1,000 years old and deadly.

And by ‘mine’ I mean the snake I am referring to. Not that…

Ugh.

I can’t even finish the thought. There are few things more disturbing.

Like…

Well…

Ah ha! Like Snape in a dress, for one. Although, that was actually a bit more amusing than disturbing. Okay, so I wasn’t in the class, but Ron was, and that are few people that like to see the Potions teacher brought down like he does.

Speaking of the Potions teacher, Colin and I have a bet going to see who can avoiding receiving detention from that man for the longest period of time. He thinks he’s got it made since, obviously, his family doesn’t exactly have the Weasley temper (since, you know, they’re not Weasleys). But I can be very well mannered when I so desire.

Except in the case of a certain Slytherin Snake.

Who, by the way, is on his way over here.

This has trouble written all over it

10:16 p.m.

I wonder if he’s going crazy. Malfoy, I mean. He just walked up, casual as if he dined at the Gryffindor table every evening, and fell into the seat on my other side. He grabbed a cookie and popped it into his mouth-no trance of a smirk anywhere on his lips.

I glanced over at my brother who was staring in unconcealed disbelief. Harry, who had dropped his fork to the floor and hadn’t noticed, wore a question mark on his face.

Hermione didn’t say a word, gave no indication that she saw. And I might have believed her acting, except I could see Ron poking her with the handle of his fork, whispering loudly, “Hermione, Malfoy is sitting at our table. Hermione, don’t you see him? I think he may be *hitting* on my *sister.*” (At which point she finally snapped, “I see him, Ron. But I’ll be a lot happier if I pretend I don’t see that ingrate sitting at the Gryffindor table.”)

I glowered at Draco for a full minute before he raised an eyebrow at me.

“Yes?”

YES?!?!?!

Sighing, exasperated, I leapt from my seat and fled the dining room, unable to even fathom the idea of eating dinner with a Slytherin. A Malfoy!

A MALFOY!

No way, no how. Not if he was the last human being in the universe.

No.

Repeat.

No.

So, here I am, sitting in my room, staring out at the night. It’s beautiful, the moon is shining so brightly I can see the outline of the trees. It’s rather nice.

And I am *not* thinking about Draco at all.

I hate people.

Especially him.

If there was just one person I could hate for the rest of my life, it would so be him.

I mean, really. How hard is it to be nice to people? NOT hard.

But, no. He’s got to be all, “I’m a jerk. Fear me. Hate me. Every negative feeling you can have about me, well, have it, because I don’t care.”

Boys are so stupid.

Nothing but trouble, the lot of them.

Let’s take a look, shall we, at the young men I have fancied. The first, of course, being Harry Potter. Not only did he not see me, but I dipped my elbow in butter for him. Then we have Tom Riddle… Who was evil and attempted to kill the aforementioned crush.

And then, finally we have…

Nobody.

I guess I got a little carried away with this whole thing. What was my point?

Oh.

Right.

Boys are idiots that don’t know a good thing when they see it.

Well, they are and they don’t.

I know what you’re thinking and you’re wrong. That all this anger is because of some heartbreaking love that I’m carrying around for someone I can’t have. That is ridiculous. There is absolutely no one that would fit...

Oh.

OH!

Ha. That’s….preposterous.

I am NOT in love with Draco Malfoy.

…

I’m not.

Are you listening to me?

Somehow, I doubt it. You know, not having ears, and all.

I do not, could not, would not EVER love Draco Malfoy. Of that you can be most certain.

…

I mean, the guy is my family’s sworn enemy. My dad would run him through with a sword before he’d let me so much as *date* the guy. Ron would have a fit, probably go as far as to refuse to ever speak to me again. My mom wanted me to forgive him, not fall for him! Though none of them have anything to worry about. I’m not in love with Malfoy, I will never BE in love with Malfoy. So life is fine. Good. Wonderful.