Ginny Weasley and the Memory of Power

Ginny Weasley could scarcely contain her excitement...or her nerves. Not only was she sitting next to Harry Potter at her own familiar breakfast table in The Burrow--with an elbow covered in butter she hastily concealed--she'd just received her letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She had been waiting for that letter ever since she could remember, and it had finally come. Hogwarts had always been her brothers' secret club, and now it was official, they were going to let her join.

She was supposed to be thrilled, and she was, but suddenly Ginny was terrified that she wouldn't fit in, that her lessons would be too hard, that the castle would be awful. Being this happy was a sure sign that something awful was about to happen. Fred and George would make fun of her if they knew she was being so superstitious, and they were probably right, but she just couldn't help it. Even if nothing went wrong, Ginny felt guilty reveling in something she knew her parents couldn't really afford. In an attempt to preserve the joy of the moment, Ginny concentrated on reading her booklist as Mum herded them toward the fireplace. The feel of the parchment in her hands was enough to make her fingers tingle.

"Guests first, Harry, dear," Mum said, offering the flowerpot. The short, skinny boy stared as if it were about to bite, and Ginny wondered if he'd gotten it confused with Dad's story about the biting tea-kettle.

"Harry's never used Floo Powder before," Ron said suddenly. "I forgot. Sorry, Harry."

Ginny watched Harry as all her family began to offer advice. His eyes got wider with every word, and she wanted to yell at them for confusing him, but he took a handful of powder and squared his shoulders. Ginny felt her admiration for him--fueled by her brothers' stories--raise a notch. She rubbed absently at the butter on her elbow as Harry stepped forward and threw his Floo Powder into the flames. He drew a deep breath. That was a mistake--he began to sputter, but hurried to do as instructed. "Dia-Diagon Alley," he said.

Mum pulled her head up like a hunting dog listening to a sudden noise. She turned sharply to stare at Dad. "What did he say?"

Dad looked back resignedly. "Diagonally."

"I thought he did," Mum said heavily. Ginny's eyes met Ron's and she felt a thrill of fear. Trying to stay calm, she grabbed her own handful of powder. There was nothing to be done but go to Diagon Alley and see if Harry was there.

"Where's Harry?" Fred demanded as she got out of the grate.

Ginny felt her stomach sink. "He's supposed to be here," she said flatly.

George said something quite succinct. Ginny agreed with him, but he was lucky Mum hadn't been around to hear.

The others arrived in record time, and with the organization of a general, Mum soon set them about hunting Harry. All Ginny could do was hold on for dear life as they galloped the length of the long, narrow alley. The whirl of speed fell into sudden relief as she saw Dad and the boys standing in a knot up ahead. They wouldn't have stopped unless they found Harry. An instant later, Mum was sweeping what looked like soot off Harry's clothes with violent energy. Ginny wondered where he had been to get so dirty, but she was so relieved she didn't even care.

"Well, gotta be off," said the tall, wild-haired man who'd been standing with them. Her family apparently knew him, but Ginny didn't recognize him. "See ya at Hogwarts!" With a start, Ginny realized she'd met someone from school. She was relieved he seemed nice. She would have liked to stay with Ron and Harry and the thoughtful-looking girl, who must be Hermione, but Mum held firmly to her hand and she was stuck behind. Ginny sighed a little, feeling frustrated. It wasn't always easy being the youngest.

Harry said something she couldn't catch, and she strained to see him as Dad asked sharply, "Did Lucius Malfoy buy anything?" Harry mumbled an answer. "So he's worried," Dad said in a tone Ginny recognized. "Oh, I'd love to get Lucius Malfoy for something..."

"You be careful, Arthur" Mum warned, "That family's trouble. Don't go biting off more than you can chew."

"So you don't think I'm a match for Lucius Malfoy?" Dad demanded, only to be distracted by Hermione's parents. Dad really loved muggles, so Ginny was a little surprised Ron had never mentioned how much Hermione knew about them, but it probably hadn't occurred to him that it might be the least bit remarkable. Ginny grinned.

"We'll meet at Flourish and Blott's in an hour," Mum said after they'd been to visit the vaults. Ginny had rather enjoyed the cart ride. She stared a little wistfully after Harry, Ron, and Hermione as they disappeared, but she didn't really want to join them. Mum was taking her to get her school supplies.

It would have been exciting to go to Madam Malkin's for her robes and get measured, but Ginny didn't really mind the second-hand shop. It was cluttered and cozy and full of interesting items, and the robes were worn to comfortable softness. The slight suggestion of wear at the edges made her feel less guilty about the possibility of staining them. Ginny always hated messing up new clothes. Besides, it was exciting to have robes, regardless of where they came from. Ginny posed before the mirror like a model from one of Mum's magazines, an idea that made her giggle. The big paper bag the clerk gave her swung cheerfully from her hand as Mum led the way to Ollivander's.

The air inside seemed to tingle, but maybe it was just the dust in the air making Ginny's nose tickle. Ginny looked around, confused to see no one there, but Mum didn't seem to think it was odd. "A pleasure to see you, Miss Weasley," a dry but not unpleasant voice said from somewhere out of sight. "I have to admit I wasn't expecting you...at least not for several years yet." Ginny blinked, and glanced over at Mum in bemusement. Mum's face was flushed, and her lips set; Mum hated the fact that Fred, George, and Ron had to wait for wands of their own--a complaint they voiced way too often in Ginny's opinion. Mum and Dad tried to give their children what they wanted, and if they didn't have enough money sometimes, it wasn't their fault. Ginny scowled at the sudden dampening of her mood, but the wizened wizard that abruptly materialized in front of her didn't seem to sense anything amiss.

"Let's get started shall we?" he trilled, clapping his hands together, and darting off to the side to grab a long, narrow box off one of the stacked shelves. He whipped the lid off, sending up a swirling burst of dust that made Ginny cough. "Ash and Unicorn hair--I believe unicorn hair wands are quite popular with your family--9 inches--as you're small--and rather swishy." Ginny hesitated, unsure whether she was supposed to touch the wand or not. Mum nodded, so she picked it up and held it, feeling more than a bit ridiculous. "Well, what are you waiting for?" the wizard--Ginny assumed he was Mr. Ollivander--demanded. "Give it a try."

Trying not to stare at him like he was nuts, Ginny gave a half-hearted dip of her wrist. "Apparently not," Mr. Ollivander muttered, snatching the wand so quickly Ginny drew back. He tossed the box out of the way, seemingly unconcerned about finding the wand later, and tugged a different box free.

"Willow--another Weasley favorite--and Phoenix feather, 10 inches, quite supple."

"Hmmm...as I recall your brother Charlie uses dragon heartstring...Perhaps this...Cherry and dragon heartstring, 10 inches, snappy."

"Mr. Ollivander," Mum said a bit uncomfortably. "I don't mean to hurry you, but we're--"

"Running a bit behind? Never fear--I have just the thing." Mr. Ollivander snagged a box from high in a corner and presented it with a flourish. "Mistletoe and mooncalf hair, 8 inches."

Ginny reached out...and it was almost as if the wand leapt into her fingers. It looped and waved through the air, making her feel incredibly graceful. The room seemed to radiate with the silky gleam of moonlight on water.

"Perfect match," Mr. Ollivander said with a self-congratulatory smile that didn't prevent Ginny's own ripple of pride.

"How much do we owe you?" Mum asked, and Ginny felt her stomach crash at the thought of what such an incredible wand must cost.

"Two galleons," Mr. Ollivander said, and Ginny breathed a sigh of relief. It was still more than they could really afford, but she knew it was reasonable enough they could buy it. Mum handed Mr. Ollivander the money, and slid the box into Ginny's bag, where it beckoned as they walked down the street.

It didn't take long for Mum to find a serviceable cauldron, and before she knew it, they had reached the bookstore. Flourish and Blotts was crowded. Ginny hated crowds. She hated everything about them; the noise, the heat, the lack of space. She shifted uncomfortably and tried not to look around for a way to escape. Even seeing Harry soon afterward offered no relief; for once, he was only one more face. Ginny wiggled her hand in Mum's, it was cramped and soggy with sweat.

Slowly, the reason for all the fuss came into view. He was grinning from ear to ear as if he had never seen anything more agreeable than the awful crowd, which made Ginny instantly annoyed with him. Pictures of himself only made his grin that much more impossible to ignore, and the brightness of his white teeth, glossy golden hair and forget-me-not robes in the somewhat shadowy shop made Ginny's eyes hurt, a condition the puffs of purple smoke emitted by a man dancing about nearby with his camera only aggravated. As if that weren't enough, the man with the camera stepped on Ron's foot. Ginny really wanted to leave, she really didn't understand what Mum saw in Gilderoy Lockhart.

"It can't be Harry Potter!" Lockhart was pulling Harry forward and the whole crowd was applauding. Ginny wondered if she was the only one paying enough attention to notice Harry was definitely turning pink. It wasn't anywhere as noticeable as Weasley red, but his cheeks held an unmistakably embarrassed twinge. Harry tried to sneak away from the obnoxious blonde as soon as he let go of his hand, but Lockhart pulled him back, making Ginny's temper surge protectively. She fought the urge to rush to the front of the store and yank Harry free. Mum would kill her and it would probably embarrass Harry further. But she'd like to give Lockhart a good swift kick in the behind, even if he had written most of the Hogwarts booklist, an accomplishment that suddenly seemed a lot less impressive as he announced his new job plans...

Harry finally lurched away, promptly depositing his new schoolbooks in Ginny's cauldron. "You have these," he said, and it was so generous and thoughtful she could have kissed him, even though she knew he just wanted to get rid of them. She didn't know how to begin everything she wanted to say, so she settled for a shy smile.

"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" A blonde boy with a face that reminded Ginny strongly of a ferret had slithered into sight. "Famous Harry Potter. Can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page."

"You leave him alone," Ginny snapped at last, beyond self-control. "He didn't want all that!" Which would have noticed if you had eyes in your head, you ugly git. Harry looked startled at the sound of her voice and Ginny couldn't help wondering darkly if he thought she was mute in spite of the fact she'd heard Ron tell him she never shut up.

"Potter, you've got yourself a girlfriend," the weasel drawled.

Ginny felt her face burst into flame.

"Oh, it's you," Ron said nastily as he and Hermione arrived. "Bet you're surprised to see Harry here, huh?"

Ginny wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean, as it seemed perfectly normal to her that Harry should be there to buy schoolbooks, but the blonde boy either understood or wasn't too concerned with meaning. "Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley. I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for these."

Ginny went hard and cold all through. If she'd known a curse, she would have used it without blinking. Ron was as red as she had felt a minute previously. He dumped his books into her cauldron with a clang and headed for the boy--he wasn't going to let a little thing like a lack of curses stop him. Harry and Hermione grabbed the back of his jacket. In spite of herself, Ginny had to stifle a grin. They really were good friends to Ron.

"Ron," Dad said, struggling over with the twins. "What are you doing? It's too crowded in here, let's go outside."

Ginny had never heard anything more inviting, but the tall blonde man with axe blade eyes and a hand on the blonde boy's shoulder caught Dad's attention. "Lucius," Dad said. That explained a lot. Ron hadn't quit complaining about Draco Malfoy all summer. It wasn't hard to see why.

"Great," Ginny muttered under her breath, "evidence it didn't hatch from an egg." Hermione shot her a look that made her start guiltily, but Hermione grinned and no one else seemed to notice.

"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear. I hope they're paying you overtime," Lucius Malfoy observed, helping himself to Ginny's transfiguration text. She clenched her teeth. "Obviously not. Dear me, what's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"

Dad turned an unhealthy shade of red, but his voice was hard and calm as he replied, "We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy."

"Clearly." Malfoy looked pointedly at Hermione's parents, who seemed very friendly and intrigued by the world of Diagon Alley. "The company you keep, Weasley...and I had thought your family could sink no lower."

Ginny's cauldron hurtled into the air. Spellbooks began to rain down, pounding painfully. Ginny was acutely aware of Harry edging closer as if trying to deflect the worst of it away from her, but before she could even be sure, the shop assistant and Hagrid were wading into the tempest. Hagrid pulled Dad and Mr. Malfoy apart, and the shop filled with a sudden, heavy hush.

Malfoy's eye was already darkening where it had been hit with An Encyclopedia of Toadstools, but Ginny didn't feel the least bit sorry for him. It still glittered like sharpened blade metal from inside the dark circle as he thrust her book back at her. She was too shocked to take in much as they finished their errands and made their way home. She had never realized there was so much cruelty and danger in the grown-up world...maybe she would rather just stay at home.

Chapter Two

Ginny found the book half-tucked into her second-hand copy of A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration. Confused, she picked it up and began to flip through it; it looked like someone's diary, but they'd never written in it in spite of the fact it was quite old. "Poor thing," Ginny mumbled sympathetically. "You just need someone to appreciate you."

Secretly, she would have preferred something more attractive herself, but a diary was to confide things in, not to look pretty. Shrugging, Ginny added ink to her quill and wrote the first words that came to mind on the appropriate date.

--What I need is someone to talk to--

She stared at the sentence in wistful silence, wondering how someone who lived in a house full of people could be lonely. She had raised the quill to put as much on the page, but her previous sentence had begun to dissolve before she could, fading away as if it had never existed. Ginny stared, wondering what she should do, but before she'd really gotten started, the words reappeared. Only, she realized with an odd shock of amazement and something she couldn't name in the pit of her stomach, they weren't the same words.

--I have waited for years with no one to talk to--

Ginny blinked.

--It sounds as if we need one another--the diary prompted.

Quill poised over the parchment, Ginny hesitated. -You're not really mine. I'm not sure I should keep you. I've never heard of a diary that writes back before, so you must be kind of valuable--

--I would like to think so, but obviously the person who owned me didn't feel the need to keep good track of my whereabouts. You know what they say. Finders, Keepers--

--Even if that's true, I still don't know anything about you--Ginny wrote, aware of a strangely surreal aspect to arguing with a book that was--more or less--empty. -I don't think I'm comfortable telling my innermost thoughts and secrets to a stranger--

--Strangers are the best people to tell secrets to; their opinions don't matter--the diary contradicted smoothly.

Ginny stared at the stark words. They made an odd sort of sense she found strangely attractive. Something about their appeal bothered her, though...

--But if it makes you feel better, I'll introduce myself. Tom Riddle, at your service. And you are?--

--Ginny Weasley--she wrote automatically, and almost regretted not having thought about it. To distract herself from worrying she added -Tom? Shouldn't you be a girl?--

--A girl? Why?--

--You're a diary. Aren't most diaries kept by girls?--

--Maybe, but what's harder to find? A girl who's willing to listen, or a guy?--

Ginny grinned. -You've got a point.--

--Exactly. You need a male perspective and I need company. So go on--

--I don't know about this--Ginny protested, sighing. -But I'll give it a shot. After all, I was going to write 'What I really need is someone to talk to, but this diary will have to do--

--And you got exactly what you needed?--

Ginny grinned. The written words somehow sounded exactly like her brother Bill. -Can't resist bragging about yourself, can you?--

--Life Lesson #1, Ginny Weasley. It's never bragging to know your own worth--

Ginny considered that and nodded. -Someone should explain that to Ron--

--Ron? Is he your boyfriend?--

--No, he's my brother. Mum says I'm too young for a boyfriend, because I'm only 10--

--And what do you think?--

--I-I'm not sure. There's this boy--

--Tell me about him--

--We were on Platform 9 ¾ last year when I saw him for the first time--Ginny lifted the quill, staring at the words as if she could see the scene all over again. -I'd gone with Mum to see Ron off on the train because it was going to be his first year at Hogwarts. He thought he was nervous, but I didn't know how I was going to get through an entire year without him. And this boy walked up and tried to ask Mum how to get onto the Platform...-- Ginny blinked against threatening tears. It was an unremarkable incident, and she was a little embarrassed to be affected so strongly, even though she knew no one could see. -He had the biggest, most trusting green eyes I'd ever seen, but they looked sad at the depths. I just wanted to hug him and tell him everything would be okay. And he had dark hair that was rumpled like he'd just gotten out of bed--Ginny swallowed another little sigh at the way Harry's hair always made her want to touch it. -Mum told him how to get onto the trin with Ron, and I knew I'd never see him again and I had to talk to him at least once, so I wished him good luck. When Mum and I found Fred and George (my older brothers, they're twins) on the Platform, they told us the boy was Harry Potter and I knew that was why he looked so sad. I wanted to go and find him so I could tell him I understood, but Mum said he wasn't something to gape at, and she was probably right. I have a huge family and he lost all his. How could I understand how he feels?--

--Quite a story. But you talk about this Harry Potter as if he were famous--

--Well, he is? When were you published? Haven't you heard about the Boy Who Lived? He defeated the Dark Lord--

--After my time, I'm afraid. He sounds quite ambitious. A Slytherin is he?--

--A Slytherin? Harry?--

--Harry? So you met him again, then?--

--Well, yeah--Ginny was acutely aware of the blush simmering through her face to the tips of her ears. -As it turns out, he was in Gryffindor and he became friends with Ron. Apparently they had all sorts of adventures together, along with a girl named Hermione. You should hear Ron talk about them-- If half those stories were true Harry Potter was every bit as smart and sensitive and likeable as she had thought, and a great friend. -Anyway, Ron brought him to visit--

--Ah! Now we get to the interesting part!--

--I didn't know he was here, and when I saw his face I turned around and ran right upstairs again! I was in my nightdress! I must have looked ridiculous--

--I'm sure he hardly noticed. He was probably too worried about making a good impression. Besides, shy girls are adorable--

Ginny's blush deepened. -Thanks, but I'm not usually shy.--

--All the better. Guys like to know they have an effect. -

--Really?-- Ginny frowned bemusedly, tucking the information away to ponder later. -Anyway, I heard Ron tell him that and he mentioned I'd been asking about Harry all summer!--

--If the boy is famous he probably assumed that's why you were interested-- Tom suggested reasonably.

--Maybe. But he showed up yesterday morning while I was eating breakfast--

--Not that surprising, Ginny. You said he's staying at your house.--

--Yeah, but I was so...so...---

--Overwhelmed?--

--Sort-of. Overwhelmed by his face that I accidentally knocked my porridge bowl off the table.--

--He didn't make fun of you, did he?--

--Of course not!! But he didn't have to. I blushed from head to toe.--

--Blushing can be an incredibly troublesome affliction, but with any luck you'll grow out of it.--

--I hope so. But that doesn't help me now.-- Ginny glanced away from the diary as if trying to escape her fate, then re-inked her quill with a sigh. -Then Fred and George had to go and tell him how poor we are.--

--Did he seem surprised? Taken aback?--

--Well, no. I'm sure he knew, but that doesn't mean we have to advertise, does it? He just asked me if I'd be starting school.--

--What did you say?--

Ginny was suddenly afraid the heat from her face would set her room afire. She wanted to crawl under the bed and hide. -I put my elbow in the butter dish-- she wrote reluctantly.

--Points for creativity.--

--Just what I wanted.--- Ginny made the ugliest face she could manage. -He hasn't said much to me since, probably afraid of what I'd do.--

--He'll come around, Ginny. You sound like a very attractive girl.-- The nature of her blush seemed to change. Ginny shifted in her seat uncomfortably.

--Thanks. I'd better go, it's almost time for dinner.--

--I hope we'll talk again soon.--

--Don't worry, we will.-- Ginny started to leave the room, stopped in the doorway, turned back and stashed the battered little diary under her bed. Feeling much better, she clattered downstairs to the table.