Ginny Weasley and the Heir of Slytherin

The first thing Ginny did when she got home was hide in her bedroom. Now she could freely cry, but she didn't feel much like crying anymore, which was a bit of a shame somehow. Feeling as though she had been gone for days rather than hours, she sat down on her bed, her legs dangling over the edge, and decided to think to herself as she had no one to talk to -- no friends. She sighed sadly and turned to look at her pallid reflection in the mirror.

Hello, Self, she thought gloomily. How do you feel today?

Feeling hurt suddenly, Ginny laid on her back and stared at the low ceiling -- thinking. She liked herself. Obviously, she had some faults, but overall she thought she was a good person. When she looked in the mirror, what she liked the least about her appearance was her clothing and second-least her freckles. Why did her family have to be so poor? Why did she have to be the youngest? She didn't mind being the only girl as much as she minded being the youngest. If there were just one Weasley younger than her, her life would be so much easier.

Ginny sat up again, feeling a little better. She did like being a girl. After all, it made her feel a little unique seeing how her mother was the only other female in the family and she was a full-grown woman, which (in Ginny's mind at least) was very different from being a girl. As for any females Ginny's age, there was only a neighbor girl named Luna Lovegood, who seemed very odd and distant. Ginny didn't know her very well. Sometimes being the only girl in the family made Ginny feel special, but other times it made her feel lonely. Now was one of the lonely times.

Ginny so wanted someone to talk to, but nobody she knew would understand how she felt right now. Strangely, she felt that Harry would understand. Maybe it had something do with how he had been raised. If only she could make herself talk to him. He must think she was the most insecure little girl ever. But maybe when she was sorted into Gryffindor House which was known for bravery, he would think she was at least a little brave... unless she didn't make Gryffindor. After all, just because every Weasley had been in Gryffindor forever didn't guarantee she would. What if she ended her family's centuries-long line of Gryffindors? What would her parents say? And perhaps more painfully, what would her brothers say? Ginny couldn't believe the idea that she might not end up in Gryffindor didn't occur to her until that moment, but it didn't.

Feeling depressed and a bit scared, Ginny decided to take a look at her "new" supplies. She felt really poor -- was there anything she owned that hadn't once belonged to someone else? Did all her possessions have to go through someone else before she could have them -- as though she were less of a person than they were? The clothes she was wearing were starting to feel as thought they were tattered rags -- it made her feel worthless. She knew she shouldn't be feeling this way, but she just couldn't help herself. It wasn't fair.

In a fit of rage, Ginny knocked her cauldron over, causing her books and supplies to spill out onto the floor. They were so old, what did it matter if they got damaged? As she scanned the pile of supplies, she noticed a black object sticking out of a book her mother had bought. Naturally, she picked it up and saw it was a little diary. It was very old, fifty years based on the date, and had the name "T. M. Riddle" written on it. Had her mother bought it as a surprise gift for her?

Ginny had always wanted to share her feelings with someone who would understand and with this diary she could find out about its creator's innermost thoughts, which would somehow almost be the same thing. She gently opened the diary to the first page, which was blank. After flipping through the whole book, she found it had never been written in. She was crushed and sat thinking for a moment.

Well, her mother certainly wouldn't give her a blank diary with someone else's name on it without an explanation. Ginny ought to give this diary to her father so he could to try and get it back to its rightful owner, but she wasn't about to let a free diary go to waste. She wanted to do something with it. Besides, she didn't know who it belonged anyway -- well, obviously it belonged to someone called "T. M. Riddle," but she had no idea who that might be.

Maybe she could just keep the diary for herself. It was worth a try, wasn't it? The diary did have a name on, but it wasn't as though she would be showing it to anyone. But if she kept it, it would be stealing, wouldn't it? Ginny had never really stolen anything in her life before and preferred to keep it that way. But, she reasoned, she hadn't actually taken the diary herself; someone probably just left it in one of her books, forgot about it and most likely would never notice it was missing. Besides, the fact that the diary was blank proved nobody had been using it and more to the point she found it in a book she rightfully owned, so logically it was hers.

Heart pounding and still a little unsure whether she should be doing this, Ginny sat down at her desk and flipped back to the first page of the diary. She wrote, "Dear Diary, My name is Ginny Weasley. I'm the daughter of Arthur and Molly Weasley. I have six brothers, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George and Ron." She paused to think about what to write next and to admire her work, but as soon as she lifted her quill from the page the words began to fade away.

Typical, she thought darkly. Her heart sank as the words became invisible. She was crestfallen, but a little relieved since she hadn't been sure whether or not she should have been writing in the diary. However, the ink oozed out again, but formed words she hadn't written.

"Hello, Ginny Weasley. My name is Tom Riddle."

These words also faded away, but not before Ginny had time to read them. She wasn't sure what to make of this and felt a little panicked. But her panic was eclipsed by a sudden realization -- there was someone living inside this diary whom she could communicate with. She could tell this Tom Riddle anything and she would never have to worry about him mentioning it to anyone. So what if he wasn't friendly? -- he couldn't do anything to her. What was the worst that could happen? Someone who didn't exist knowing a few things about her? What did she have to lose?

So what should she write next? She wanted to make sure he was trustworthy, but she also wanted some helpful advice or, at the very least, sympathy. Eventually, she decided to tell him a little more about herself first. At first she was planing to mention all the problems she had in her life, but then decided she wouldn't be telling him about her family, her possessions or about anything except just herself -- as a person.

"Dear Tom Riddle," she wrote, hoping she had remembered his name correctly, "I'm eleven years old and am starting Hogwarts on September the first. I have fair skin, red hair, brown eyes and freckles. My birthday is the eleventh of August and I'm pretty good at flying. I'm the youngest and only girl in my family and my full name is Ginevra Molly Weasley. You can call me 'Ginny' though."

As the words faded away, Ginny couldn't help but grin as she wondered what Tom Riddle would say in response. Would he tell her about himself perhaps?

"You sound like a nice person, Ginny. I'm looking forward to getting to know you."

Ginny smiled to herself. Tom Riddle was looking forward to getting to know her -- someone was actually interested in knowing about her life -- no, not in her life, just in her. This was exactly the type of response she had been hoping for and it made her even more eager to share her feeling with this Tom Riddle. What should say next? She wanted to tell him something more about her, but her mind was blank. It was amazing how she thought she would have a million things to say to someone who would listen, but now that she had such a person she couldn't think of one. Well... maybe one.

"Dear Tom," she wrote, figuring she could call him by his first name now, "Thanks for saying that, I really appreciate it. I'm having trouble with one of my brother's friends. He's nice and everything, but he's none other than Harry Potter! I've been too nervous to even speak in front of him and I don't think he'll ever like me. What should I do? Could you please help?"

As the words faded away, Ginny wondered what Tom Riddle would make of this. Harry Potter was so famous -- would he think she was lying to make herself sound more interesting?

"I'm sorry, Ginny, but I am not aware of who this Harry Potter is. Please tell me."

Ginny at first wondered how someone could not know who Harry Potter was, but it then occurred to her that if Tom Riddle lived fifty years ago, he wouldn't know Harry's story. Therefore, she caught him up on the last fifty years, but found he didn't know who You-Know-Who was either. Ginny, like most everyone else, never said the name, but she eventually wrote "VOLDEMORT" in all capital letters, hoping she'd spelled it right. Tom Riddle seemed to be satisfied with that.

"I'm very sorry to hear that, but there is nothing I can do except encourage you to be more assertive. I know you want someone to be close to. I used to feel the same way when I was your age. I came to Hogwarts from an orphanage and I had no friends."

Ginny could hardly contain the emotions she was feeling -- Tom Riddle knew how she felt without her even telling him! She instantly wanted to tell Tom Riddle all about herself. There was so much about her to tell -- where should she start? Looking around at all her secondhand supplies, it wasn't too hard to think of something.

"My family's pretty poor," she wrote so quickly the words were barely legible. "Mum and Dad are good parents and they try as hard as they can, but I'm going to have to go to school with secondhand books and robes, because they can't afford any newer ones. I know I should be happy for what I have, but sometimes I feel really bad about it."

Ginny knew she was downplaying her feelings considerably, but on the other hand she hadn't told anyone about these feelings before -- downplayed or not. Besides, why did it matter how bad she felt. She knew she shouldn't feel that way and that more or less made up for it, didn't it?

"I'm sorry to hear that, but you can't have been worse off than I was. When I was at Hogwarts, an older student named Bormann and his gang would tease me all the time, because almost everything I owned was secondhand and because I had no family. However, I became a prefect whereas Bormann was expelled in his seventh year."

Ginny felt a bit sorry for Tom Riddle, who was starting to remind her of both herself and Harry, but also heartened to know that in the end Tom Riddle had been rewarded whereas Bormann was expelled. It made her feel that if she waited long enough and was good, people like Draco Malfoy would get what they deserved and Ginny would get what she deserved. All she would have to do was be patient and not expect anything to come too easily.

Ginny looked down at the diary and saw four words had appeared on the page since she had stopped looked at it -- which had been about half a minute ago.

"Is something wrong, Ginny?"

Alarms went off in Ginny's head as the words faded. She swallowed her feelings whole like a lemon and picked up her quill. She had already decided what she would say.

"No, I was just thinking about what you said," she wrote. "Thanks." (Why did she write that?)

"Anyway, my brothers tease me a lot. I know they don't mean to hurt me and it's all in good fun, but I really don't like it when they make fun of my feelings about Harry. They won't let me play Quidditch with them either, because they say I'm too young. I'm older than Fred and George were when they first started playing Quidditch, but that's not good enough for them."

Ginny would have written more, but her hand hurt so she decided to tell Tom the rest after he wrote back. She tried to somehow rest her hand quickly so it would be ready for more writing in such a short time.

"That's very unfortunate. Maybe you should take matters into your own hands.."

"That's exactly what I did," Ginny replied. "I couldn't stand not being allowed to play Quidditch with them, so I did it by myself. They don't have a clue, of course. It's hard keeping it a secret though. I just wish I had someone to talk to about it."

"You can talk to me about it. You can tell me about anything."

Ginny smiled, feeling a great feeling of warmth fill up inside her. It occurred to her that this was probably the first time since Harry's arrival at the Burrow she hadn't felt at all miserable. Eager to get more of her feelings out, she continued to scribble in the diary.

"I also have trouble with Mum," she wrote. "She's a good mother and all, but she treats like a baby. If it weren't for the letter inviting me to Hogwarts, she probably would never have realized I'm not three years old anymore. I can think. I can take care of myself. I don't need her helping me with everything. Sometimes I feel like I'll never grow up."

"You will grow up eventually; everyone does. All you need is to remain patient. I expect there will come a time when your mother and brothers will regret treating you the way they do. At least your mother is still alive -- mine died shortly after I was born."

Ginny had forgotten Tom was an orphan. Had she hurt his feelings?

"I'm sorry," she wrote, "I --"

It was here that she was interrupted. She felt her heart leap out of her body as someone knocked on her door.

"Ginny, what are you doing?" asked Percy. "Why have you locked your door?"

"Nothing," Ginny lied. She felt guilty. Why? She hadn't done anything wrong.

"Mum was just wondering what happened to you," he responded.

"Tell her I'm alive," Ginny yelled back.

"She's fine," Ginny heard Percy yell to their mother. Ginny looked back at the diary and began wondering why it made her feel guilty. She knew she wouldn't be telling her parents about Tom Riddle, but why? Was it wrong to write to him? Well... she really wanted Tom's existence to be her own secret -- if her parents knew about him, it would be extremely embarrassing. Besides, she had a right to privacy.

"Ginny, are you all right?"

Tom Riddle must have been worried since she stopped writing in mid-sentence, so she wrote "Yes, I just got interrupted. Sorry."

She had forgotten what she was writing about and decided she had had enough of Tom Riddle for the day.

"Goodbye Tom," she wrote. "I'll see you tomorrow. Sleep well." Sleep well? That was a strange thing to write. Perhaps she just felt Tom Riddle would sleep when she wasn't writing to him -- inside his little diary. Would it be cozy in there?

"I hope to hear from you again, Ginny."

Ginny felt relieved he didn't think her "sleep well" line was stupid or, if he did, he was at least polite. She closed the diary, feeling satisfied but oddly scared. A burden that she had been carrying for years had been lightened, but somehow it made her feel shaky. Something inside her was telling her that something was very, very wrong -- wronger than she could imagine.

She ignored it.

* * *

True to her prior conviction, Ginny didn't tell anyone about the diary. It was her business and it was private -- her parents and brothers would just poke around and try to read it. Therefore, she kept the diary hidden and only wrote in it only when no one was around her. It was especially annoying when her mother came into her room and stayed there for hours while Ginny had been in the middle of writing something to Tom. Of course, this diary wasn't exactly normal, but Ginny wasn't about to take the chance that they would figure out how it worked.

Ginny loved Tom Riddle and usually managed to write to him multiple times a day. Unlike everyone else in her life, he never spoke down to her, even though she had learned he was years older than she was. She wanted to tell Tom what she thought of him, but couldn't express it well enough. She sometimes held the diary tightly in her arms, figuring it would be the closest she could ever come to hugging him. Doing this when she felt really bad seemed to be strangely therapeutic.

The last day before Ginny would go to Hogwarts seemed to last forever. She tried writing to Tom, but she simply felt too excited to sit down and write. After spending ages staring at a blank page, Ginny wandered around outside for a bit, but everything seemed boring. She tried to enjoy the luxurious meal her mother cooked for dinner, but it wasn't easy when she remembered that the sooner she finished and went to bed, the sooner it would be September the first. She felt slightly guilty about this since Harry seemed to enjoy being at the Burrow so much and she was wishing for his stay to end.

But she couldn't help it. Ginny was so excited and was looking forward to the next day so much she couldn't sleep and spent most of the night restlessly pacing around. When she did eventually fall asleep, she hadn't even been intending to -- she was just laying on her bed resting and eagerly thinking about what the next day would be like. It was hard to imagine that at this time tomorrow she would be in a dormitory at Hogwarts -- hundreds of miles away.

She awoke a few hours later, still feeling tired, from some strange, unsettling dreams. She quickly forgot about them as the day progressed. It was like every September the first she had experienced -- very busy and chaotic. People running around making sure they had everything they needed and that they were ready to go. The difference was that Ginny was a part of it this time, but somehow it all made her feel as though she had forgotten to do something.

Not only had her father made it so their old car could to fly, he'd enchanted it so it could expand to fit all of them and their luggage. Naturally, he had neglected to tell his wife and Percy this. He hadn't intended to tell Ginny either, but when she caught him tinkering with the car and threatened to get her mother, he told her what he was doing, making her swear not to mention it.

When Ginny's mother saw all her sons sitting comfortably in the back she said, "Muggles do know more than we give them credit for, don't they? I mean, you'd never know it was the roomy from the outside, would you?" As Ginny climbed into the front seat with her mother, she still couldn't shake the feeling that she had forgotten something -- something very important.

As they drove away, Ginny felt panicked. She was sure she had forgotten something now and this was the last time chance she would have to get it. Apparently, she wasn't the only one -- George forgot his box of Filibuster fireworks. She considered getting out with him, so she could go back to make doubly sure she hadn't forgotten anything, but told herself it was probably just her nerves. After all, this was just about the biggest day of her entire life.

They left again, and her panic was back. Before she had any time to think about what she might have forgotten, they stopped again so Fred could go back and get his broomstick. Soon they were moving yet again and Ginny was trying to tell herself that her parents would make sure she had everything she needed with her -- they wouldn't let her go to school unprepared.

Unless she had forgotten something they didn't know about...

It was Tom Riddle's diary! How could she have been so stupid as to leave it behind? Now they were almost to the highway and there was nothing she could do about it.