Breakfast. Ginny poked morosely at her plate of eggs and toast. She wasn't sure why she was in such a low mood — perhaps it was nervousness over the match that afternoon, or perhaps it was the fact that she hadn't slept well the night before. She had lain awake in her bed, thinking of Draco's face when he said, 'I never promised you anything.' His expression so blank, those gray eyes so illegible. She thought the blankness was worse than the coldness he sometimes showed. At least coldness was a feeling.
The blankness was just — nothing at all. And it was exasperating.
Sometimes she wondered if people fell in love with him so easily because he could be so unreadable — like a beautiful, empty house. You could dream anything into it.
She wondered if Blaise knew how to read him, or if anyone did. Harry, maybe. When he tried.
Argh. Ginny ate another bite of eggs, and refrained from looking at the Slytherin table, which she had gotten good at. Draco was impossible.
Totally impossible. There were lots of other attractive boys at school.
Seamus Finnegan for instance. There he was across from her, eating porridge with a fork. With his dark blond hair, blue eyes, and Irish accent, Seamus was certainly appealing. Not a bad Quidditch player either. So why wasn't she interested in him?
'Ginny?' Seamus was giving her a peculiar look. 'Have I got something on my face?'
Ginny realized she'd been staring. 'Oh. Uh. No.'
'Yes you have got,' said Dean, looking around. 'A bloody great lot of freckles.'
'Have not,' said Seamus amicably. This was true — Ginny, being a Weasley, knew a lot of freckles when she saw them. Seamus had only a few, on the bridge of his nose.
'Have to.'
'Have not.'
Ginny abandoned Seamus and Dean to it. They were capable of going on like this for ages. She looked hopefully around the table once again, as if Harry, Hermione or Ron might have spontaneously appeared there since she'd last looked, but no — they were all still late to breakfast. Next to her, Lavender and Parvati burst into a fresh spate of giggling. Ginny was able to catch, amidst the giggles, the words Draco, so and cute. She threw her fork down and looked up to see that they were indeed staring over at the Slytherin table, where Draco was engaged in conversation with Malcolm Baddock.
Ginny sighed. Ever since Hermione had, probably unwisely, told Lavender and Parvati that Draco Malfoy wasn't so bad when you got to know him, they'd felt free to express the crushes on him that they'd probably had all along. Just watching him get up and down from the Slytherin table at mealtimes had become something of a spectator sport for them.
'You know, in a way it's lucky he's in Slytherin,' said Parvati a bit mistily.
'Green really suits him.'
'Oh, for goodness sake.' Ginny rolled her eyes. 'Listen to you two. 'Here comes Draco Malfoy, let's all pitch our knickers at him in a mad fit of passion.' I mean, really. Whatever happened to Gryffindor pride and — '
'There's no point pitching our knickers at him,' interrupted Lavender severely. 'He's dating Blaise.'
Ginny put her milk glass down with a thump. 'Sarcasm is just lost on you, isn't it?' She wondered, not for the first time, what they would say if she told them that she'd shared several passionate lip-locks with Draco over the summer and that he wasn't anything special. She dismissed the idea: firstly, because they wouldn't believe her anyway, and secondly because it wasn't exactly true. 'Anyway, since when are you two close with Blaise?'
Parvati shrugged. 'You can't infringe on another girl's territory, even if she is a Slytherin. It's the Girl Code of Conduct.'
Ginny raised an eyebrow. 'The Girl Code of Conduct?'
'It's like the Wizard Code of Conduct,' said a familiar voice in her ear, 'only with more corsets.'
Ginny turned around to see her brother in the process of taking the seat beside her. 'Ron!' she said, astonished. 'You look awful.'
He did look awful, or at least as if he hadn't slept all night — his hair was a mess and there were nearly- black circles of exhaustion under his blue eyes. But his grin radiated good humor. 'Thanks, Gin. I know I can always count on you to fluff up the old ego.' He held out a hand. 'Eggs,' he added.
Ginny handed him the plate of eggs. 'Did you not get any sleep, or what?'
Shoveling food into his mouth, Ron did not answer. A moment later Harry and Hermione had joined them at the table. Neither of them looked particularly rested either, although this surprised Ginny less. Last time she'd seen Harry he'd been unconscious in the snow, and she surmised that Hermione had probably been up taking care of him all night. 'Hallo!'
she sang cheerfully. Harry winced. Hermione, whose skin seemed nearly translucent with tiredness, smiled at her wanly. 'I'm so glad we have a match against Slytherin today,' added Ginny breezily. 'Harry and Ron just look ready to mop the field with them. I've got a suggestion, Harry.
When it looks like Draco's just about to catch the Snitch, why don't you throw up on him?'
'Eurgh,' said Harry, looking green.
'We'll do fine,' said Ron, discreetly shoving the water pitcher in Harry's direction. 'Rehydrate, Harry.'
While Harry dutifully drank the water, Hermione looked at him anxiously.
'Oh, go to Madam Pomfrey, would you?' she said finally. 'I just know she must have Hangover potions around somewhere, and I haven't got time to make you one before the game. They take at least a day to prepare.'
'All right.' Harry waved his hand feebly. 'I'll go. I'll go before History of Magic.'
'That's good,' said Ginny. 'Because right now you look like you couldn't fly if they shot you out of a cannon.'
'You're just annoyed because I went drinking with Draco, and you don't like him,' said Harry, irritability making him forthright.
'Shhh,' hissed Ginny, almost upsetting her milk glass. 'His fan club will hear you.'
'Draco has a fan club?' said Harry with frank amazement.
Ginny jerked her chin down the table towards Lavender and Parvati, who were now giggling with a few of the sixth-year girls. 'Yes, and they're having a meeting right now.'
Ron snorted. 'Is there some problem with the bridge they normally meet under?'
Hermione choked on her pumpkin juice, then giggled. 'Ron…'
'Yes?'
Hermione gave him an innocent look. 'Nothing.' She put her glass down and smiled. 'I was just about to say that I've got some Pepperup Potion in my trunk if you need it. You look a little tired.'
'I'm not tired,' said Ron, and yawned hugely. 'I'm fine.'
Hermione raised an eyebrow. 'You do remember we have a prefects' meeting at two o'clock don't you?'
'Good point,' said Ron. 'No Pepperup potion for me. It'd be too cruel to deprive me of the opportunity to sleep through one of those meetings.'
'And the mystery of why the ever let you be Head Boy deepens,' said Hermione, shaking her head. 'What'd you do — take a leaf out of Fred and George's book and blackmail them?'
Harry reached over and thumped Ron on the back. 'Ron here happens to have many fine leadership qualities,' he said.
'Yes,' agreed Hermione. 'He's currently leading the House in least amount of homework done, most amount of butterbeer consumed, and most number of letters received from suspicious French tarts with silly names.'
'Right,' said Ron, 'because Hermione isn't a silly name at all.'
'This isn't about my name — ' Hermione began indignantly, then jumped.
'Ow! Ron!' She glared at him. 'I cannot believe you kicked me under the table. That is so immature.'
Ron smiled at her pleasantly. Ginny remembered the time that someone -
