Ginny Weasley's Diary

Thursday, September 22 1994

In library. Not studious, only hiding out. Hopefully library is last place Blaize Zabini and Lisa Turpin will think to search so can take me for yet another d walk around castle perimeter. Curse the day I asked Blaise to be my fitness coach. Guards from the 16^th century during the Gremlin wars did not patrol perimeter of castle as frequently as Blaise forces me to. The brutally honest Blaise hinted I am losing battle to become svelte. 'You're getting tubby Luv'. See? Brutal! Pointed out to Blaise, I am a growing girl. Blaise pointed out accent is on 'growing' - the brute!

Planned to pout but Lisa pointed out I would have a point if I were not in the habit of ingesting dozens of chocolate frogs each and every day. Sigh. Must remember old saying of Mum, 'the truth shall set you free'. Not one of Mum's more comforting sayings.

To sooth nerves I sit at back library table reading back issues of Young Witch Weekly and Savvy Sorcerers. Interesting quiz in Cosmopolitan Conjurers - 'Is Your Wizard a Wiz in the Bedroom?' If only had enough experience to answer even one of the 25 questions would be the happiest witch at Hogwarts, with the unhappiest parents. To ease my inexperienced heart, I sit here eating enough chocolate frogs to restock an enchanted wilderness preserve. Dratted chocolate frogs. Will not purchase or beg anymore of the fat laden froggie chocolates after this batch is put to nesting comfortably in my upper intestines.

Things looking up! Am peering across the library through bookrack at a mate of clueless Ron, near-brother Harry and dear Neville. Said wizard is sitting appropriately enough by the human sexuality section, his nose buried in a book that I'd bet is 90% pictures - naughty ones at that. The boy is both cute in a wicked sort of way and... well, if he's cute whatever does the rest matter? The wizard is Seamus Finnegan. Come to think of it, Seamus has everything I am looking for in a bloke. If prodded Neville, Harry and Ron say Seamus has a marvelous sense of humor. True, Seamus is not as studious as I would wish, but rumour has it he gives 'good snog' which atones for many faults. Did I mention Seamus is cute? If I nabbed Shameless Seamus, the other Gryffindor girls of my year would soil their knickers. Will keep Seamus under observation. Must not give any hint of interest in Seamus to sometimes-not-clueless-enough Ron. Mean brother would tell Mum who would throw fit and owl post 'the' book she has kept locked away since I was in nappies. Book is entitled What Every Young Witch Should Know About Sex. Stupid brother. Clever mother.

Hello, Slytherin alert! The albino git, d. Malfoy is staring at me from three tables over. How I hate that blondie prat. Malfoy is shamelessly staring at me, the perverted sex fiend wizard. At last year's Halloween feast Lisa swears Malfoy walked up to her with a mirror attached by sellotape to the toe of his expensive basilisk hide boots. She stepped on his toe and one or the other of them is in for seven years bad luck. But enough on evil Malfoy. I shall ignore the git in manner of mature witch who displays the maturity of witch who has more than a few answers to the 'Is Your Wizard a Wiz in the Bedroom?' quiz.

Things will not be boring this year! Dumbledore announced will be a Triwizard's tournament. All of Hogwarts buzzes with excitement. The tournament will set Hogwarts against two visiting schools; Dumbstring and Bowedbatons or some such. There is a reward of 1000 Galleons to the winning school's champion! Like everyone else, at breakfast this morning my brothers and near-brother Harry Potter were in an absolute dither. Unfortunately, spoil sport Dumbledore will only allow students of seventeen years or older enter the competition. Vile Fred and dear George plot to lie about their age and enter their names for Hogwarts champion anyway. Twins are brainstorming ideas to illegally enter their names, but as their brainstorms never more than light drizzle, no worries. Of course, I am jealous because I would love to be a Hogwarts champion. Only to imagine the thrill of winning! The historical tradition I could follow! The honor I could bring to Hogwarts! The dates I would get!

Must say, idea of foreign students visiting Hogwarts this year is all well and good, but I hope I am not expected to share dorms with any foreign students. I'm not prejudiced or anything, but how can I be expected to brush my teeth next to someone who is flossing frog legs out of their back molars? I have standards.

Merlyn's marrow in a silver cup! Malfoy is putting his books in his ridiculously expensive, imported, brushed gryffin's hide rucksack, preparatory to leaving library. O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay! I chortle in my joy! Good riddens Malfoy, o' vile spawn of Slytherin! And don't let the door smack you in the arse on the way out.

If only Blaize, Lisa, Neville nor myself were old enough to be school champions in the tournament. I'm the youngest, of us so I'd be the last one to get accepted.

Godric's great glowing goolies! Evil Malfoy has not left, but has taken the seat directly across from me, at MY table! Worse, the contemptible pillock eyes my box of chocolate frogs. Dream on Malfoy.

Hold on... Have had a brilliant brainstorm of my own! Have solved riddle of how to stop myself eating huge quantities of chocolate frogs. Will imagine frogs to be the foul *hite of Slytherin! That ought to reduce my caloric intake by the number of stars in the heavens. Must eat remainder of frogs so can begin my new 'chocolate frog = foul poo' campaign tomorrow, first thing. Currently frogs still innocently composed of Honeyduke's best bittersweet, honey-laced chocolate. D. I hate when I get drool blotches on my diary - makes the ink run.

I think I have the most eclectic group of friends here at Hogwarts. We're from three different houses that is unusual enough. And on top of that, Blaise, Neville and Lisa are a year ahead of me, and that is unique here at Hogwards. I think no one should be surprised that my best chums are a year ahead of me in school. Even if the other third years would have anything to do with me I am quite too mature for other third years. Stupid, stupid, double-dummy head Malfoy! He is staring at me over his d. Arithmancy text. Hate Malfoy. Hate arithmancy, or rather will hate arithmancy if I am ever forced to take it. Wicked Malfoy, you shall NOT have any of my chocolate frogs so remove your eyes from them oh corrupt seed of Slytherin! Yes, you loathsome boy with your haughty ways, your bigoted view towards those you think inferiors, your wicked grey eyes and evil, allegedly supple lips, and those muscular silky skinned thighs that look like they were poured into very tiny green silk short track trousers when thy evil self jogs on Quidditch pitch in ... Right then. Some things about Malfoy are quite all right.

Where was I? Oh. How Blaise, Neville, Lisa and I became friends although we're all quite different. To start, Lisa and myself are friends since from our mutual tot-hood near the village, Ottery St. Catchpole. I missed Lisa terribly the year she started at Hogwarts with Ron. Then, the next year when I entered Hogwarts, things were not as wonderful as expected. I was under the spell of filthy Mr. Riddle's d. diary. My first year poor Lisa's feelings were hurt because I ignored her much of the time. In spite of that, dear Lisa remained my good and loyal friend. Let me tell you, a true friend is one who will assist you washing chicken blood and feathers out of your robes without squealing on you.

I cannot emphasize enough how wonderful it was having Lisa loyal by my side when things were even rougher, during my second year at Hogwarts. Adults, even Dad and Mum, refuse to believe any students other than my brothers, Harry, Hermione and myself know what happened to me in the Chamber of Secrets. My adventure in the Chamber of Secrets is supposed to be a big flipping secret. Hello! Everyone and their owl knows about Chamber o' Secrets. You can stop any first year student in the halls about a week after school term starts and they know who I am and what the current rumors claim I did. After poor harried Harry, I am the most infamous student at Hogwarts. Might as well cut rooster shaped scar on my forehead. Am especially hated by red-haired girls at school because sometimes they are mistaken for being me, and find themselves being called, 'Ginger *wat Weasley' as vicious, nasty minded and depraved Slytherin refer to me. I'd bet a stack of Sickles Malfoy started those Slytherin calling me by that heinous and hurtful nickname. Why oh why are we redheads persecuted more than witches were during one of those rusty old centuries Professor Binns natters on about?

Speaking of d. Slytherin, I can't believe it! That d. Malfoy is still sitting across the table from me and he had the audacity to point to his mouth and then to me. Impudent, rude, hateful, fourth year. I should go over and slap his pointed face! I will ignore him as I am quite mature.

Anyway, few people, especially adults, understand how off-putting it is to be oppressed, red-haired Ginny Weasley, the former target of the sinister sixteen-year old hot teen dark Lord. Here is what happens when I meet another student for the first time. Met one only this morning.

Blueburne: "Hello, my name is Nancy Blueburne. I'm in Ravenclaw."

Me: "Oh hello, Blueburne. My name is Ginny Weasley and I'm Gryffindor."

Blueburne: Her eyes grew to the size of late harvest turnips and rotated in their sockets, she took several steps backwards. "Rowena Ravenclaw's Red Knickers! Are you THE Ginny Weasley? The 'Chamber of Secrets, painted chicken blood on the walls, kidnapped, 'did the dirty' with sixteen year-old memory of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named' Ginny Weasley?"

Me: "I am Ginny Weasley, but the rest is rubbish. So Blueburne, which house do you think will win the house championship this year?"

Blueburne: Eyes still rotating freely. "If you'll pardon me. I have a life AND a reputation to protect. Ta ra!"

I am not kidding. The above scenario happened five times this past week alone. I don't care. 'Did the dirty' with Mr. Tom 'Full-of-Himself' Riddle... as if! Am sick of being falsely accused of snogging and or shagging the darkest wizard of all time without my day in court or so much as a hickey's worth of proof from those who insist on my guilt. I always I stand up for myself and say that I was neither snogged nor shagged by You-Know-Who, but no one wishes to believe me - the lie being far to titillating to give up for the simple truth.

And do you know what is worse? After shunning me based on heresy, formerly mentioned Miss Blueburne and others of her ilk will use her 'run-in' with me to start some dozen or more conversations with other students over the coming weeks. Thanks to me, little Miss 'too-good-for-Ginny Weasley' Blueburne will make a dozen or more impressed friends on the ashes of my rejection! How astounding unfair is that?

I would be upset about the whole Chamber of Secrets thing but am far too mature and besides I have my dearest friends, Blaise, Lisa and Neville. In a pinch I also have brothers and near-brother Harry and nose-in-a-book-Hermione. 'Better quality than quantity' Dad always says. That from a man with seven children. Go figure.

Ooooo, that odious Malfoy! He has again pointed to his mouth of gleaming snow-white straight teeth - a rarity for Slytherin I can tell you - then pointed to my ruby lipped mouth! Am appalled! How dare Malfoy sit there, obviously imagining forcing his evil ways on me in the library in front of respected peer group. No doubt that snooty blonde sits there on his firm bum, imagining shoving me, an innocent third year, against a back wall in the book stacks, where he would be impudent enough to press those pink lips against mine, maybe placing his large and warm hands on my ample

Friday, September 23 1994

Previous thoughts had to go unfinished. Am in full humiliation mode. Yesterday left library in great hurry. Is possibly worse than Chamber of Secrets catastrophe.

Last evening, in library, evil Malfoy would not stop staring at me or chocolate frogs. To show the evil Malfoy my great distain, I cheekily popped tempting chocolate frog into my mouth and smiled to show Malfoy what great treat he was missing out on, i.e., delish chocolate frogs and my supple third year lips. When opened rude mouth to show off half melted chocolate from nestled on my succulent red tongue, the heavens punished me for my impudence. Webbed chocolate feet akimbo, the blasted enchanted chocolate frog shot from my mouth, smacking Malfoy in face! I leap up and raced away before vindictive Malfoy could avenge himself upon me. As I raced through Gryffindor Commons on the way up to my dorm room, I passed the mirror noticing humongous blot of chocolate on my plump pink cheek! Blot was size of hippogriff!

Apparently misunderstood intentions of the vile spawn of Slytherin pointing to his mouth and then to me. Malfoy apparently not envisioning assault of highly attractive red-haired third year witch, but was trying instead to inform git, prat, numbskull third year ninny that she had smeared her pink cheek with foul poo of Slytherin.

Bad news - must drown sorrows. Breaking into emergency supply of butterbeer.

Good news - will never be able to face eating another d chocolate frog, ever, ever, ever again. Should be as thin as Rowen's wand by month's end.