It started as a game. Something he could get some easy kicks from. He could rattle her so easily by simply throwing her a quick comment in the corridors or a "lusty" glance at lunch, to watch her squirm.

It was a form of victory to see her face turn as red as her hair.

It also had the added bonus of driving Potter and Weasley up the wall. They always looked ready to gouge his eyes out with fire pokers when he even glanced over at their precious princess.

Years of his attention had given her anger towards him. She remembered how it felt to be a nervous little girl, having crowds watching her after Malfoy made one of his infamous comments. She wouldn't forget how when he stared at her so blatantly, she wished that the ground would just open up and give her a hiding place.

She hated him for exploiting her low self esteem and her longing to be invisible, especially after the diary. He took her fears and made them public domain for everyone in the school to see or hear.

But Ginny Weasley was different now. She wasn't the gawky little girl she used to be. She had grown up. She was no longer short and dumpy, but tall and lithe. Her body had developed into that of a young lady, not a child. Her hair was longer and smoother, and now a delicious shade of deep red, rather than the old carrot top that she had been sporting.

She saw the way boys looked at her in class and she heard the whispers that followed her around school.

She had leant to admit it to herself, after years of being riddled with self doubt that she had turned out quite fabulous. She hadn't meant to grow up this way. It had just sort of…happened.

And this year would be different. This year, she was ready to play his game and in her version, she was in charge.