The Red Haired Weasel and the Amazing Bouncing Ferret

Ginny Weasley

October 29th 11:29 p.m.

AHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!! I'm going to hell. If there is such a place, there's no doubt about it now. They are going to welcome me with open arms.

I kissed Draco (There's no way I can think of him as Malfoy ever again).

I kissed Draco.

Or, rather, we kissed each other.

And Merlin help me, I want to do it again and again and again.

I wish I didn't. Every part of me is aching to hate him and desire him a long and painful death. I wish I could blame him entirely for the kiss this afternoon, but I can't. In fact, all I *can* do is hide in my room, fearful that everyone will see the guilt I'm sure is reflecting in my eyes.

He said that he's been pretending to need help in Potions to get close to me.

It worked.

I shouldn't feel like this! I'm going crazy! He hates me. He must. He always has, and now suddenly...what, exactly? He sees charms in me that he didn't notice before? Yeah right.

And what does he want? To date? For me to be Mrs. Amazing Bouncing Ferret? Hee hee, that's sort of funny.

I've said over and over again that I don't want to date him.

But I do.

Ugh. I loathe myself. But it's true.

I want to get to know him, to see if there's a chance that maybe, just maybe, there's a bit of humanity inside that evil, arrogant…

I never did get those new nouns.

How would we do this, anyway? My brother, Hermione, Harry… They'd kill him. I mean, he's done so much to them, hurt them, and tortured them. How could I defend this desire that I feel so deeply that my heart actually *hurts.*

I am so beyond pathetic.

I need to sleep-relax.

October 30th 4:25 p.m.

I swear this always happens! On the days that I would rather be put to death than run into Draco, I can't seem to avoid him adequately.

Every single corner I have turned, there he's been. He's like those damn cockroaches that just don't die. (For the record, those things can live nine days without a head. NINE DAYS! At which point, I suspect, they starve to death.)

And each time I see him, my heart goes into overdrive, and automatically my eyes lock with his. He says nothing, gives no indication that anything is different. Maybe he doesn't want to be with me after all. Maybe he just thinks that I'm good for an occasional kiss.

I wish I could hate him.

8:51 p.m.

Alright, my hands are shaking. I can't believe it. Something amazing and unbelievably romantic has happened, to me, Ginny Weasley.

I love my life.

I was sitting at dinner, laughing at Ron as he unsuccessfully tried to ignore the kissing sounds most of the tables were making in his direction when a beautiful gray owl swooped in from overhead and landed right in front of me.

A simple perfect rose was held firm in its beak, until I reached for it.

A small parchment was attached to the flower, and with trembling fingers, I opened it.

'Dear Ginny,

Since a dozen roses were clearly a bit over the top, I am sending one perfect rose for one beautiful girl. I have not forgotten what happened the other day, but am trying to give you the space and time that you said you need. It isn't easy-don't misunderstand. But if it's what you need to realize that we deserve a chance, then I will wait forever.

~Me’

Harry snatched the note away, but the words dematerialized. It seems that no one has any clue who it's from.

I would have never thought, even for an instant, that Draco could write such beautiful words. I glanced up at his table, and once again, his eyes met mine. And I smiled.

And so did he.

Wait a second. Someone's at the door.

9:05 p.m.

Well…

That was Hermione.

And she knows.

I have never been so mortified in all my existence.

She came inside and told the other girl, Sarah, that she needed to speak with me alone.

Then she caught sight of the rose which was resting in a vase by my bed and sighed.

"Ginny," she began.

A cold fear took hold of me. "Yeah?"

"Ginny, I know who the rose is from," she said softly.

Automatically, for reasons I cannot explain, tears filled my eyes.

Tears of shame.

"You do," I choked out.

She nodded. "Yes, I do."

I swallowed. Well, it was over. Whatever decision I had been contemplating was being taken from me. She would tell Harry and Ron and not only would they be furious, but at least one of them would tell my parents, who would send me a letter stating how incredibly disappointed they are in me.

"I'm so sorry," I moaned. I covered my head in my hands and allowed the tears to fall.

She reached out and wrapped her arms around my, holding my close. Like a sister. A sister I've never had.

"Ginny, don't cry," she said soothingly. "You've done nothing wrong." She paused and I sniffed. Rather pathetically.

"Yes I have," I argued. The stress from the last couple of weeks was so overpowering, and it felt good to cry.

"You can't control who you like." I could hear the smallest of smiles in her voice, and I looked up.

"I should know better."

"I should know better than to be in love with your brother."

Was I hearing correctly? Was she actually attempting to sympathize with me?

"Hermione…"

"I'm not going to tell anyone that you like Malfoy."

Hope rose in my throat.

"You're not," I questioned, wiping the tears from my cheeks.

She shook her head sadly. "No, Gin, I'm not."

So many memories leapt to my mind. When she'd gone to McGonagall about Harry's broom when she thought it was from an evil killer (who turned out to not be evil at all), when she tried to stop Harry from leaping to conclusions about Sirius being in trouble in their 5th year. She'd always done exactly what she believed was right, no matter who it hurt.

"Why?"

"Listen, I'm not going to say even for an instant that I believe this is a good idea," she said, shifting her place on my bed. "But I can see that you're hurting. And I think I can trust you enough to make your own decision. I mean, for Merlin's sake, you're certainly old enough to take hold of your own love life." She grinned. "No matter what Ron says."

"He always wanted me to go back to liking Harry," I muttered, not even entirely aware that it'd been out loud.

"Harry's a safe choice."

"But he doesn't like me back."

Hermione smiled and stood. "Ron loves you so much, you know."

"I know. And I love him too. He just wants the best for me."

"That's true."

"I haven't even made a decision. It's just an option."

As she turned to leave, she glanced back at me, clearly attempting to stifle a laugh. "No offence, Ginny, but I think we both know what your decision is going to be."

And with that, she shut the door behind her, leaving me to my own thoughts.

She's right.

I already know what I'm going to do. I always have.

I can't keep pretending. I've never been all that great at it, anyway.