Chapter One

Alone on the Hogwarts Express

Stepping through the barrier; waving goodbye; wandering through the corridors of the Hogwarts Express. Tasks so familiar that she peered into each carriage without thinking, subconsciously processing what she saw. Fifth year Slytherins playing wizard chess, a couple of nervous first years alternating between making small talk and staring pointedly out the window, Luna Lovegood reading an upside down magazine whilst Neville Longbottom tended to some exotic looking plant…

She paused. Becoming conscious of her actions, she began to question them and wandered why she had not joined Neville and Luna. Her five years at Hogwarts had given her the comfort of familiarity and routine, and yet this year was already different. Examining her actions she knew she could not bring herself to do the same things, because she knew they could quite simply no longer be that. Everything had changed.

Instead she continued to wander, seeking only solitude and the chance to be alone with her thoughts. By some luck she came across an empty compartment and allowed herself to settle for the journey. Only when she was alone could she allow herself to think about the things she tried to avoid: when nobody would comment on, or god forbid offer sympathy for, the tears and anguish she knew she would not be able to hide. Harry was gone. A stabbing pain hit her abdomen and she felt sick.

The end of last year was still a blur: she had felt blessed, bathed in Harry's affection, happiness always bubbling beneath her surface. But it had all changed so suddenly. Dumbledore was dead and Harry knew he what he had to do. He was leaving her behind, not just physically, but from his heart. Deep down she knew it was done out of care, but that didn't stop it from hurting. She had cried, screamed, punched, and begged him to take her with him. But he needed no weakness, he had said. Of course Ron and Hermione had gone. That left a bitter taste in her mouth. But ultimately it changed nothing. He was gone; saving the world; risking his life. She was to remain; to keep out of it; to be forgotten.

And now she moved as if in a dream. She had tasted perfection and had it cruelly ripped away from her all too soon. There was nothing to look forward to this year, when in the past, no matter how much his ignorance had hurt her, anticipation had always kept her alive inside. Maybe he would defeat Voldemort soon, but what then? She was not so naïve as to think they could pick up where they had left off. He would be a superhero ten-times over what he had been before. And she would be insignificant Ginny Weasley again, always blushing, always too intimidated.

Suddenly the compartment door swung open and Ginny snapped out of her self-inflicted pain to see a small group of second year Gryffindors gawping at her. Such was the respect and admiration she had grown to inspire, that they left her to be. She had to pause from her misery a moment to find that amusing. She was not the type of girl who would usually be expected to command that level of respect. Her appearance was not the intimidating combination of stunning features, glossy hair and the perfect figure. A girl like that could always get by on her looks, knowing that eyes would always be on her when she entered a room. Ginny knew herself not to be unattractive, with a slender figure, simple brown eyes and auburn hair. But on that alone she was easily washed away and trodden all over at Hogwarts. By the time her third year had come around, she knew she had to do something if she were to win Harry's affection.

She knew she was intelligent, and fun to be around, but only if someone would notice. It began with trying to be more confident: speaking her opinion, chatting to new people in her classes. She began to create a persona for herself, believing if she could pretend to be something else, other people might think she were too. Surprisingly it worked, and suddenly all her spare time was spent in company, sparkling with her wit, perfecting that alluring smile at a boy. And she began dating, choosing which offers to accept, letting others down gently. The new and improved Ginny was in full force, and eventually captured her prize.

Underneath she knew it was all a lie, and hoped that once she had Harry she could become herself again. Sometimes she forgot that what she liked best was to disappear with a book for hours, with the sunshine on her face. That she enjoyed being silent, and simply taking in what was going on around her, instead of always being at the centre of it. But she was too scared that Harry did not even know that Ginny, and would not want her.

It would all change now though. She had no need to put up a front anymore; no care for how people perceived her, as long as they did not think she was weak. The one thing she would not be able to bare, would be sympathy. She would much rather be forgotten, than be seen as Harry Potter's poor, devastated ex-girlfirend.

Even if that was what she had become.

She noticed that the second years had left the compartment door open, and was about to close it when a young man walked through it. Ginny knew him, and considered leaving, but instead paused, somewhat confused. The man closed the door and took a seat across from Ginny but not directly opposite. If he noticed the sobbing redhead he did not say anything, and simply stared into space. She recognised the stare as one of deep introspective thought, as the one her own face had mirrored for the last hour. After a few more minutes of silence, she relaxed back into her seat to resume her musings. Draco Malfoy did the same.

She could not go back to her previous thoughts however, not so much because she did not want him to see her cry, but more that his appearance had raised so many more interesting things to consider. Her summer had admittedly been preoccupied with Harry's imminent departure, but that did not mean she had lost tabs on all other events of the wizarding world. In impossible attempts to cheer her up her friends had often included tit-bits of gossip in their letters, and the bits referring to Malfoy had been the juiciest. At first she had not believed it, but an article in the Prophet had confirmed everything: Malfoy had defected, and the information he had provided had not only led to the arrests of many Death Eaters, but had prevented him from being punished. He was also allowed to return to complete his final year at Hogwarts. Ginny and her family had taken it with a pinch of salt. Even if he had defected, it was surely a selfish act of self-preservation. She had still expected to find the same old Malfoy: arrogant, nasty, always ready with a smirk at her or her family's expense. And yet when he had walked into that compartment, he had shown no signs of his previous persona.

She studied him carefully through her half closed eyes. He did not look all that different and when she considered his eyes, they still contained the same cold, steely glint that simultaneously frightened her, and convinced her he could never be trusted. When she thought a little more, she supposed he was likely to be alone this year. The only 'friends' he ever had were followers, drawn to him by the power his name held and his links to Voldemort. They had all been part of a group that believed in the dark side, and his defection meant that their parents had probably told them all to keep away from him. Ginny did not imagine this would be too difficult: she had never seen Malfoy form a friendship based on any real affection.

She decided he was no different really, not deep down. He simply could not be. And she refused to feel sorry for him, not after everything he had ever done to hurt her and those she cared for. But still she found she was quite comforted by his presence. It was the first time in a while she had been able to sit with someone for this long and not feel a screaming urge to be anywhere else. She stared out of the window at the changing landscape and was sure she could almost feel a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Eventually the announcement was made that they would be arriving in Hogsmeade shortly. Malfoy suddenly rose and the movement, after so much still, caused Ginny to involuntarily turn her head to look at him.

He looked at her for the first time.

"You stopped crying" he stated.

Although his face remained expressionless, she was sure she saw his eyes soften for a moment. But then he was gone and she was, again, on her own.