Torn

Bloody hell, he thought. Six years, and I'm still having the same dream! He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, trying to block out the memory of the dream that had startled him awake. It was no use. He sat up slowly and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Today was the day he was to catch the Hogwarts Express to return to school. He stood and plodded over to his window and sighed, leaning forward until his warm forehead rested against the cool glass.

Why did he always have the same dream? He clenched and unclenched his fists several times as he stood there. He had tried sleeping charms. He had tried potions to change his dreams. He had tried everything he could possibly think of, but that one dream continued to haunt him. He opened his eyes and stared blankly out across the grounds that surrounded his home.

Shaking his head sadly, he moved away from the window and went to his closet. He pulled out the clothes he would wear for the day, and then draped them across the back of his chair. A quick glance at the clock that hung on his wall told him that he still had a few hours yet before he had to be on Platform 9 ¾. He flopped across the bed on his stomach and buried his face in his pillow. He screamed into it and hoped it had muffled the sound.

Meanwhile, somewhere near Ottery St. Catchpole, a feisty redhead was fighting her older brother for the last piece of toast. Ron snatched it from the plate in the middle of the table and grinned at her.

"Mum!" she squealed. When threatened with his mother, Ron immediately handed the food over. She beamed at him, then stuck her tongue out, ad bit into the toast. Ron shot her a nasty look.

"What is it, dear?" Their mother entered the room, wiping her damp hands on a dishtowel. Ginny smiled brightly at her.

"Nothing," she said sweetly. Ron got up and walked away, muttering something about bratty sisters as he went.

"Dear, it's time to go and get ready," Mrs. Weasley shooed Ginny upstairs. "You're going to be late if you don't hurry." Ginny shoved the last of the toast into her mouth and ran upstairs, taking the steps two at a time. She quickly ran into her room and shut the door behind her. She slipped out of her pyjamas and pulled her clothes on excitedly; she was looking forward to getting on the train . . . Harry would be there! She took great care combing her hair and applying lip-gloss. When she had finished, she inspected her reflection in the small mirror that hung above her dressing table.

"You look positively lovely, dear," the mirror sang. "He will definitely notice you this year." Ginny blushed. She had to admit, she had changed over the summer. Her red tresses now hung to her waist, and her curves had really developed as well. She looked more like a woman than a simple, silly schoolgirl now. She spritzed perfume on her wrist and neck, and then went back downstairs.

Once aboard the train, Ron went to find Harry. Not wanting to seem overly eager, Ginny hung back and watched Ron enter one of the cars ahead. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath to calm her nerves, and started after him. She had almost reached the car she saw him go into when the door to another car opened, and someone stepped into the hallway in front of her. She collided headfirst with him, and heard a loud groan of pain. She put her own hand to her head where they'd bumped, and rubbed it.

"Hey, watch where you're going," he snarled. She looked up. Oh, no. Not him. Please, anyone but him!

"It was your fault, Malfoy," she seethed angrily. "If you hadn't come rushing out into the corridor without looking . . ." He met her eyes and froze. His brow knitted in momentary confusion - was this - ? No, it couldn't be . . . could it?

"Weasley?" he asked uncertainly. She blinked, and then rolled her eyes.

"What, did the bump on your head cause you to forget my name?" She pushed past him, and he caught the scent of vanilla. When she had disappeared into the next compartment, he went back inside his car and sat down. He stared out the window.

She had changed, and he'd been blown away by the difference. She wasn't just the skinny redheaded girl that had been at Hogwarts last year. No, this year, she was . . . something else altogether. He couldn't quite put his finger on it. Her hair had grown, and it hung down her back in gentle waves. Her skin was smooth and creamy. He closed his eyes and got a picture of him kissing those full, pouty lips. He opened his eyes with a start; where had that come from? He buried his face in his hands.

"Hi, Harry!" Ginny smiled brightly at him as she entered the compartment and shut the door behind her. Harry looked up and felt his eyes widen slightly in surprise.

"Hi, Ginny," he said quickly. She sat down next to Hermione, directly across from him, and began speaking to her. He felt his heart flip-flop. She was beautiful - but then, she'd always been beautiful to Harry. If only I had the bollocks to tell her what I think of her, he thought sadly. He turned and nodded at Ron, who was chattering endlessly about the Chudley Cannons and their last match. Harry chanced a look at Ginny, who was tucking her hair behind her right ear. He didn't know why, but the gesture made Harry feel as though he'd swallowed a grasshopper - and it was currently hopping around in the pit of his stomach.

"Harry? Harry!" Ron was nudging his side with his elbow. Harry turned to look at him and gave him a sheepish grin.

"Sorry," he said. "Must've been off in space." Ron watched Harry's eyes dart across the compartment and sniggered.

"You're off in space in close quarters, mate," he said, under his breath. Harry's cheeks flushed pink, and he looked out the window. This was going to be a long year, indeed.