The Very Secret Diary of Ginny Weasley

Chapter Four: Halloween

  

 

            “Now Ginny, I insist that you take some of the Pepperup Potion that Madam Pomfrey has been handing out!”
           “Percy, for the last time leave me alone! I'm not sick!” Ginny shouted at him for what seemed the hundredth time.
           It was only a few days before Halloween. Her brother Percy had been hounding her to take the potion all month, convinced that she had the flu like several of the other students around school.
           “But Ginny, you really do look so pale,” he said. “You’re not yourself lately.”

            “Fine!” she said irritably, as she plucked the vial of potion from his hand, and drank it before she got up from the Gryffindor table and stormed off.
           Ginny tried her best to hide this, but Percy was right. She hadn't been herself lately. She was constantly feeling tired, and sometimes she forgot things. She was convinced that she had begun sleepwalking again, because she would wake up in strange places about the castle, sometimes even outside.
           But most of all, Ginny had felt painfully alone. With the exception of Tom, she felt she had no one to talk to. Often, she would just sit up in her dorm room and cry, but other times she would write in her diary near the window, making wishes only a girl of eleven would make for herself.
           Ginny was feeling more and more like an outcast every day. She was becoming isolated and unsocial, which was most unlike her. She had always been outgoing and excited to meet new people. It wasn't that the other girls in her dorm weren’t kind or nice. Ginny just felt that she didn't fit in with that happy and giggling crowd, though she couldn't understand why.
           And as much as she enjoyed talking to Hermione, who was probably one of her closest schoolmates, outside of family, most of the time she was with Ron and Harry. As much as Ginny wanted to confide in Hermione, she found it difficult somehow. After all, she was one of Harry's best friends. What if Hermione were to let slip how Ginny truly felt about Harry. It was the same with Hagrid, although she suspected that he already knew.
           Worst of all, were her brothers. Fred and George often teased her mercilessly when they caught her occasionally sneaking around Quidditch practice. Percy of course was hounded her frequently, as though he we their Mum. As for Ron, well, Ron ignored her almost completely, which was most inconvenient, since that meant that Harry usually did too.

            As Ginny left the Great Hall, she decided there was only one thing that would make her feel better. Watching Harry play Quidditch.
           She made her way down the west corridor, towards the pitch, and on her way, she came across the caretaker’s cat, Mrs. Norris.
           Ginny crouched down to pet the gray cat. “Hello Mrs. Norris, and how are you today?” They never had any cats except the wild ones that lived in the fields near the Burrow, but Ginny always loved them.
           “What do you think you're doing to my cat?” a nasal growl came from behind her. “No one is allowed to touch her!”
           Ginny turned around to see the cat’s owner, Mr. Filch, standing nearby with a bright purple nose, and a scarf wrapped about his head. He had obviously caught the flu going around the castle.
           Ginny gave him a scowl. “I was only petting her, for goodness sake! What's the harm in that?”
           Filch eyes widened in anger and he pulled her up by her robes. “I 'ought to give you detention for talking back!” Ginny looked at him even more defiantly now, standing her ground.
           “However, I have work to do, cleaning frog brains in dungeon five. You just watch yourself,” he let go of her, and looked down at Mrs. Norris. “Come along, my sweet. We have a mess to clean.”
           Ginny watched him walk away giving a great hack into his handkerchief, Mrs. Norris trotting behind him.

            Even more irritated now by Filch's rudeness, Ginny stomped out to the Quidditch pitch, to hide behind the bleachers as she usually did, and watch the Gryffindor's practice.
           It was a bad idea however, for it had been raining that day, heavier than it had in the last few weeks. She ran across the lawn as fast as she could, but she was soaked to the bone by the time she had got to the bleachers.
           She was only able to catch the tail end of practice, which by the looks of it, hadn’t gone well for the team. It seemed like it was more than the rain that was bothering them. Especially Harry, who at the end of practice, shuffled through the mud into the broomshed, his head lowered in severe disappointment.
           Ginny was curious to know what had been troubling him so. He looked as though he was in great need of comfort. As she waited for them to come out, she began thinking to herself,
           “You know, it probably wouldn't hurt just to ask him what was wrong. It's not like Ron and Hermione are here to turn to right away. I could just walk up to him casually and ask.
But wait, I'm soaking wet too. He would know I had been outside watching him. Er, I could say that I had just come from visiting Hagrid's house, and I got caught in the rain, that's it!”
           “Now, what to say . . . ‘What's wrong Harry?’ No, that sounds completely idiotic! I need to be more subtle than that. How about, ‘Oh hello Harry. Just come from Quidditch practice, I see. Gee, why so glum? Is every thing all right?’ Brilliant! It's perfect!”

            Ginny waited patiently as the girls came out first, followed by the twins, and the team captain, Wood. Harry left last, said goodbye to his teammates and started for the castle, covered in thick mud.
           She crept quietly behind him, far enough to hide if he turned around, as she tried to muster up the courage to talk to him.
           But time was running out. She had followed his muddy tracks into the castle. As she followed them around a corner into another corridor, she saw that Harry had stopped by the Gryffindor House ghost, Nearly Headless Nick, who was floating near a window.
           Ginny jumped back to hide, peeking around the corner to watch them. Nearly Headless Nick had given Harry something to read, a letter. Harry read it, and handed it back to Nick, who was obviously upset by the letter.
           Ginny stay peering around the corner, even more curious now. Suddenly, she heard a loud meowing coming down the corridor.
           “Oh no, Mrs. Norris! Filch is going to see all the mud tracked in by Harry. He'll be furious! I have to warn him!”she thought.
           But it was too late. “Filth!” she heard Filch shout hoarsely. She peeked around the corner again, biting her lip, and watched as Harry waved goodbye to Nick and followed the bitter caretaker down another corridor, no doubt about to give him another detention.
           Ginny turned around again and banged her head against the brick wall behind her. “What a fool I am. I should have taken my chance. If only I had talked to him!”
           Her thoughts of guilt however, were soon interrupted by a sudden sneeze. “Well, I guess I needed that Pepperup potion after all!” she said to herself as she sulked down the hallway back to the common room.

 

            *          *          *  

 

            Halloween was soon upon Hogwarts, and the wonderful smells of that evenings annual feast filled the hallways.
           Ginny thought that the feast was also another excellent opportunity to try and talk to Harry.
           She began primping about an hour before dinner. She decided that she was not about to look like an average, disheveled-looking Weasley tonight. She smartened herself up as best she could, debating which hair clip would look best in her hair, while also thinking of witty things to say in conversation.
           As Ginny entered the Great Hall for the feast, her eyes were immediately drawn to the enormous pumpkins that Hagrid had recently carved into jack-o-lanterns. It had been a few weeks since she had been to visit him, but she had sworn that they had doubled in size since then.            She giggled to herself in anticipation as she sat down at the table, waving to Hagrid, who was sitting at the end of the hall with the rest of the professors.
           Ginny looked up at the enchanted ceiling, and was surprised to see that for the first time in several days, it had stopped raining. It was still cloudy, but the clouds reflected the light of the hundreds of floating candles above them, making the Hall seem even more warm and inviting that she had ever seen it.
           She sat near George at the Gryffindor table. He and Fred were talking to their friend, Lee Jordan, reminiscing about the salamander they had fed one of Fred's Fillibuster Fireworks to a few days before.
           Ginny poured a glass of pumpkin juice and tapped her laughing brother on the shoulder. “Hey, where’s Ron?”
           “He went with Harry to Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday Party. But if you ask me, he's missing out on a fantastic feast!” George looked at her, sizing her up. He finally gave her a sly smile. “Were you looking forward to seeing a certain someone tonight?”
           “None of your business!” she said shortly.
           In fact, Ginny was completely disappointed, although she tried not to let it show.
           “A Deathday Party! Who would want to go to that?” she said to herself, as she picked her way through her dinner.
           After dinner, live bats could be seen fluttering across the Great Hall. Once again, her plans completely dashed for the evening, Ginny decided not to stay for desert. She stood up from the table, watching the students dive into pumpkin pasties and treacle pudding, along with various other cakes and pies.
           “Where are you going Ginny?” Percy asked as she got up from the table. “Are you still sick?”

            Ginny rolled her eyes and kept on walking.

            Back in her room, Ginny wrote furiously in the diary, not even pausing for a response from Tom Riddle. She rambled on and on, purging her emotions.
           “I give up Tom! Why can't things ever work out for me?! . . . All my brothers do is hound me, tease me, or ignore me entirely! . . . I'm so tired of not having any friends to really confide in, I don't understand what's wrong with me! . . . Most of all, I’m sick of loving someone who hardly acknowledges who I am! . . .”

            By the time Ginny finished writing, she felt much better, having released most of her tension. As she waited for Tom to reply, a soothing warmth came over her, numbing her body, and she almost instantly fell into a deep sleep.
           She began to dream. A vague, but a curious dream. She could feel her body get up from her bed, but she was now somehow detached from it, still remaining in the blanket of warmth and numbness.
           She could see light and shapes around her, but everything seemed like a distant blur. She felt her bare feet against the cool, stone floor. She felt herself walking, walking down a dark corridor, it seemed like forever until she entered another room. She could barely make out a refection of herself. Was she looking in a mirror?

            She suddenly began talking to her reflection, but it sounded like gibberish. Her reflection disappeared, yet she continued to speak strangely, unable to understand what she was saying. She left the room, and was writing in the diary again, only now her quill seemed enormous.
She finished writing and put down the quill. She began running. She felt frightened now, and she was becoming consumed in a blur of red and green . . .
           And with a start, Ginny woke up.