Ginny Weasley and the Heir of Slytherin

A few weeks later, Ginny was in considerably lower spirits. Although Hagrid apparently bought her story that she had run away from him because she had suddenly remembered something she had to do and that she hadn't visited him since because she was so busy with schoolwork, their tea together was the definition of awkward. It certainly didn't help that there wasn't really anything to talk about anymore other than the Chamber of Secrets and Hagrid seemed to want to avoid that subject as much as she did. She hadn't visited him again after that.

She knew throwing away the diary had been the right thing to do, but her life felt so empty without Tom Riddle. It was hard to remember how scared and unclean he had made her feel when his absence made her so lonely that she hid herself away in bathrooms to cry almost every day. It was now more obvious than ever that she really did not have any friends. Her tears were her only friends now. Ginny almost found herself thinking a few times that writing to Tom Riddle might just be worth it if she could somehow ensure that people would only be Petrified and not killed. But that would still be incredibly selfish of her.

Obviously, she needed to make some friends, but all the friendships had been made back in September when Ginny was too engrossed in that stupid diary to notice she didn't have any friends in the real world. She should have made friends with someone her own age on the train like Harry and Ron did in their first year, but instead all she could think about was finding an empty compartment to write to Tom Riddle in. And even now Ginny felt ashamed enough of herself to not want to be around other people, but she also wanted to not feel lonely. It was so confusing and thinking about it made her want to cry. And talk -- talk to just someone about what she was feeling.

Who could she be friends with anyway? All three of her dorm mates were out right away, particularly Fleeta Fleece. She had had enough of Lorelei over Christmas, and she didn't see how she could be particularly close friends with Kimmy without coming between her and Lorelei. Besides, Kimmy was Muggle-born and being around Muggle-borns still made Ginny feel a little guilty. The same applied to Hermione, who was now out of the hospital. And Ginny could only imagine that being Hermione's friend would probably involve spending a lot of time in the library trying not to be bored to death. Sometimes Ginny felt like stopping a random person in the hallways and asking them if they wanted to be friends with her. That was how sad and desperate she had become.

Of course, there was one person she had wanted to be friends with for a long, long time. But famous Harry Potter deserved so much better than someone so weak and pathetic that she would jeopardize other students' lives to feel better about herself. But that was all over now and she could still be a good person. And Ginny still really, really wanted Harry to like her. Maybe someday -- no doubt years from now when they were very close -- she would tell Harry her secret. He would see how sorry she was and if he still liked her after that she would know that he really did love her unconditionally.

She knew it was Harry she wanted -- it had always been Harry and always would be. But she wanted Harry to be more than just a friend -- she wanted him to be her boyfriend. Even thinking the word "boyfriend" made her feel a little embarrassed! Back when Harry first arrived at the Burrow, Ginny had been a little confused by her feelings and wasn't sure whether or not she was in love with him, but she was sure now that she was. It was very wishful of her to be thinking about having a boyfriend when she required just a regular friend, but Harry was the only person she could imagine making her feel as happy and loved as Tom Riddle had. Besides, a boyfriend would be so much more special than just a regular friend!

She did think it was appropriate of her to go back to thinking about Harry. After all that Tom Riddle had put her through, she just wanted everything to go back to normal. And even with other people still whispering and wondering about the Chamber of Secrets, her life largely did. She was lonely, but her grades were looking up after the slump they had fallen into over the past months and she was eagerly looking forward to the next Quidditch match, sure Gryffindor would beat Hufflepuff and stand a real chance of winning the Quidditch Cup for the first time in years.

One February night, Ginny lay awake in bed listening to Fleeta Fleece mutter in her sleep about expensive brands of clothing. Tomorrow was Valentine's Day, a day which hadn't meant much to Ginny in the past, but now seemed the perfect day for her to talk to Harry. After all, she didn't just want everything to go back to normal -- she wanted to move on with her life and what better way was there to do that than to finally talk to Harry? And that could solve her problem of not having any friends at the same time.

Ginny firmly decided that she would talk to Harry that day. She closed her eyes and dreamily imagined them sitting in an empty common room, holding hands by the fire. For once, this fantasy didn't feel completely unattainable. All she would have to do was be prepared -- and not care if she got embarrassed. After all, Harry knew she blushed in front of him, so what use would it be trying to hide it? And after she managed to speak to him, a whole new world would be opened to her! But it would be so hard. She imagined herself walk up to Harry and ask him if he would be her valentine. Saying that would make her feel so embarrassed!

But she had decided she didn't care if she blushed anymore, so she would just have to be brave. She was brave -- she was in Gryffindor and Gryffindors were brave.

Eyes still closed, Ginny rolled over, romantically taking up her blanket in her arms. She imagined herself and Harry sitting very close together, holding hands. Maybe they would cuddle up close to each other and kiss. What did it feel like to be kissed on the lips anyway? Ginny's thoughts went deeper and she thought about them getting married. Getting married was so romantic! Her family would be so proud to see her walk down the aisle and Harry would be saying "I do" as he looking into her face as though it were the most beautiful thing in the world. She would be really, really happy!

Ginny's eyes suddenly popped open to reveal to her that she was still lying in her bed looking out at the nondescript room she had slept in for the past few months.

She couldn't sleep.

She wanted the day to come -- the day when she would force herself to speak to Harry Potter if it was the last thing she did. Ginny sat upright, feeling tired, but too restless to sleep. Maybe if she couldn't sleep anyway, she could spend the time deciding what she would say when she talked to him. First she would walk up to Harry, blush probably, and say "Hi." He would probably say something like "Hello, Ginny" and she would blush harder, but force herself to keep smiling. Then what? Say "I love you, Harry"? What did she hope to accomplish by this anyway? Did she seriously believe Harry would want to hold hands with her or kiss her? It was embarrassing thinking about doing such intimate things with someone she hardly even knew!

Maybe she could just give him a letter -- a valentine. That would really simplify things -- all she would have to do was walk up to him and say, "Hi, Harry -- this is for you." If he liked her valentine, he might -- just might -- decide to spend a little time with her. Then he might slowly get to like her and they could end up becoming close just like she wanted them to be. Also with a valentine she could spend a lot of time planning out what to write and it greatly reduced the risk that she might say something stupid by accident.

Ginny got out several pieces of parchment and headed downstairs to the empty common room so she would have a surface to write on. She took out a quill and started working on producing as good a valentine as she could. After what she estimated to be about twenty minutes, all she had produced was a lot wasted parchment; "Dear Harry, I think I love you. Will you be my valentine?" "Dear Harry, I really like you. Do you like me?" It was all terrible. What could she possibly say to him?

Just write down how you really feel, she thought. But it was this piece of advice that had caused her to write a valentine that read "Dear Harry, I want you to be my closest friend in the whole world." He would think she was so weird if she gave him that!

Now, she was stuck. How did she feel about Harry? Well, she liked to daydream about him, but she wasn't about to write "Dear Harry, I like to imagine us snuggling together." She thought he was friendly and caring, but all that got her was "Dear Harry, I think you're nice." When she thought about his past and decided to express sympathy she came up with "Dear Harry, I feel sorry for you losing your parents" and that seemed like quite a downer to open a love letter with.

Now all she had in front of her was a piece of parchment that read "Dear Harry." She sighed -- maybe Tom Riddle would have known what the right thing to say was, but this actually made her feel pleased she had disposed of the diary since otherwise she didn't think she could have resisted using it. Suddenly, Ginny thought of something she could say and wrote "I wish you were mine," after the "Dear Harry." It wasn't dreadful and it was kind of romantic -- at least as romantic as anything she could come up with. After that, she wrote, "I really like you," and crossed it out. Then she tried "I think you're nice," but crossed that out as well. What else could she possibly say? She wrote "I think you're very," and proceeded to struggle over what word to put in after the "very."

After eliminating "wonderful," "kind" and "brave," she settled on the word "divine," which the dictionary described as meaning "supremely good or great." Ginny thought that fit Harry perfectly and read what she had now. It read "Dear Harry, I wish you were mine. I think you're very divine."

Great, it rhymes, she thought in frustration.

If one part of her valentine rhymed, the rest would be expected to rhyme as well. She tried to reword it so it wouldn't rhyme, but couldn't think of a way to do. Maybe she could just make the whole thing rhyme, but then it would sound like a poem. Well, why not send him a poem? Then she wouldn't have to talk about her feelings so directly. Of course, there was a problem in that Ginny simply couldn't write poetry.

After struggling over it for awhile, Ginny came up with a poem:

His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,

His hair is as dark as a blackboard.

I wish he was mine, he's really divine,

The hero who conquered the Dark Lord.

It was awful -- just plain awful!

Ginny grabbed the parchment, crumpled it up in her fist and was about to throw to away like the rest, when she changed her mind and flattened it out again. Maybe it was awful, but Ginny's mother had always said it was the thought that counted and though her poem wasn't that good she had worked hard on it and Harry would hopefully understand it was the best she could do.

Ginny sighed.

Maybe she could just give it to him anonymously. Harry Potter was so famous that dozens and dozens of girls would probably be sending him valentines. Chances were he wouldn't even look twice at hers. At least she would have expressed her feelings for him even if he didn't know it. Feeling gloomy, Ginny headed back up to her dormitory so she could get some sleep.

* * *

The first thing Ginny did the next morning, after copying her poem onto a clean sheet of parchment, was take a long, hard look at her reflection, trying to make an objective assessment of her appearance. Today she would make an extra effort to look her best. However, with her disheveled hair, bare feet and her nightdress hanging loosely on her haggard body, she looked pitiful. Eventually, she decided that if she combed her hair and put on some semi-nice clothes she would look fine.

Fine. There was that "fine" word again. Was "fine" as good as she could possibly look?

Ginny did not like being eleven anymore. She had looked forward to being eleven all her life, for it was the age when she would finally be allowed to go to Hogwarts, but now she wanted to be even older. She knew her body was just starting to change from the body of a child into the body of a teenager. Ginny wished she could be a teenager now. Maybe then her family would recognize how old she was. What if by the time she was sixteen she had grown up to be much more beautiful than she was now? What if her scarlet hair were long and silky? What if she went strolling around the pleasant grounds of Hogwarts holding hands with Harry? She felt her face redden and snapped out of it. She looked at herself -- she was still a pathetic-looking eleven-year-old girl with limp red hair.

A huge sigh escaped her lips. What was the point?

Nevertheless, Ginny bathed very thoroughly and then spent a long time combing her hair. She had a few snarls to work through as she had been so depressed for so long that she hadn't combed in ages. As her hand motions became habitual, she closed her eyes and thought about Harry. She again imagined herself and Harry at their wedding. The idea of them getting married seemed so impossible and the time when they would be old enough to get married seemed very far off. Still, she knew marriage was a very serious commitment and not something to be taken lightly. If she forced herself to be brave and talk to him now, then maybe they would be ready to get married when they were old enough.

She went on to imagine what would happen after their marriage. First of all, they would, of course, have children. Ginny had always wanted to have lots of children -- maybe it was a Weasley thing. Ginny being the mother of famous Harry Potter's children? -- it seemed so impossible. Right now she and Harry hardly knew each other and if things continued as they had in the past the odds of them ever getting together were quite slim.

Ginny closed her eyes again. Well, if it probably wasn't going to happen anyway, she might as well fantasize about it...

* * *

Ginny arrived downstairs wearing a sort-of-nice-looking outfit. It looked much too worn and old to really look any good, but it was a good combination given her choices... kind of. She did think she probably looked her best, so she should feel proud even if her best wasn't that great.

The Great Hall was adorned for Valentine's Day with decorations that were, in her opinion, very garish. When she noticed Professor Lockhart was wearing lurid pink robes to match them, she realized instantly who was responsible for this. As she looked around at the tasteless decor, she noticed she was fidgeting with her hands and stopped.

Calm down, Ginny, calm down, she thought. Everything's going to be okay. Harry will understand if you feel embarrassed.

Ginny walked alongside the table trying to find Harry. This was it -- she was going to talk to him. Maybe just to say "hi" and hand him her valentine, but she would still be talking to him! She had decided that she was ready, but when she thought about what she was going to do, she felt butterflies in her stomach. Telling herself to calm down, she walked towards where the second years sat at the table. She was so busy telling herself not to panic that she overshot her destination and had to go back.

However, though she found Ron and Hermione, Harry wasn't in sight. With Ron looking too nauseated to speak, Ginny approached a giggling Hermione.

"Where's Harry?" she asked her. Hermione, still giggling, shook her head.

Ginny sighed and went to her usual seat. Whether he had planned it or not, Harry arrived in the Great Hall fashionably late. As he sat down between Ron and Hermione, Ginny found herself wishing she had sat down next to Hermione -- then she would be only a few feet from Harry. Oh well, she had all day to get him to notice her because now she would actually try to get him to notice her rather than shyly turning away whenever he looked in her direction.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Lockhart shouted suddenly. "And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far send me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all -- and it doesn't end here!"

Lockhart clapped his hands and about twelve sullen dwarfs carrying harps and wearing golden wings walked into the room. Lockhart proceeded to explain how his "friendly, card-carrying cupids" would be wandering around the school delivering people's valentine's for them. Seeming not to notice the grim looks on the faces of the other teachers, Lockhart happily suggested they might be willing to get into the spirit of the holiday as well, even volunteering Snape to whip up Love Potions!

Ginny didn't want a Love Potion -- she wanted Harry to fall in love with her on his own terms as she was sure he would if he really got to know her. As she got up to head off to her first class, she ignored Fleeta Fleece, who was complaining disdainfully about how many girls were trying to "steal" Lockhart from her. As Ginny headed out of the Great Hall, she found Hermione digging through her bag, apparently trying to find her schedule.

Ginny approached her -- she could use an opinion.

"Hermione?" she said. Hermione looked up.

"Yes?" she asked.

"Can you tell me how I look?" Ginny asked her politely.

"You look cute," Hermione replied, causing Ginny to blush a little. She would have rather she looked beautiful or stunning, but cute was something.

"Honestly?" she asked. "If I look awful, you can tell me -- I won't start crying or anything."

"Well... maybe a little tired and disheveled," Hermione admitted, "but overall you look fine." Ginny sighed, feeling very disappointed. Apparently "fine" was as good as she could possibly look!

"Well, thanks for being honest," she said eventually. "Bye," she added sadly, turning to walk off to Potions.

"It's okay," Hermione said immediately. "Everyone looks tired now and then."

"I'm all right," Ginny told the tapestry she was looking at. "I asked you how I really looked and you told me -- it's not your fault if I look awful."

"You don't look awful!" Hermione said immediately. "You just look a little... tired. That's all."

"Look, I'm fine!" Ginny said somewhat angrily. "You -- you can go away." She didn't need or want any sympathy.

"Ginny, really, it's okay," Hermione said calmly. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings or anything." Ginny still refused to look at her.

"You didn't hurt my feelings!" she said angrily. "I -- I just want to be alone right now, okay?!" There was a long moment of silence.

"Okay," Hermione repeated, before reluctantly leaving her.

Ginny looked over the beautiful scarlet tapestry as students passed -- talking, laughing and enjoying their ordinary lives. For some inexplicable reason, she got a brilliant idea while looking over the arras. On a complete whim, she turned around and ran after Professor Lockhart, who was on his way to teach his sixth-year class.

"Professor!" she called after him. "Professor Lockhart!" To her amazement, Lockhart stopped and turned around to face her.

"I'll make it quick," he told her. "Get out your book."

"My book?" asked Ginny.

"Or your knickers," he added.

"What?" she asked, feeling scandalized.

"Just give me whatever it is!" he said impatiently. "I'll sign anything." Ginny was too aghast to answer.

"It's none of those things," she said eventually, feeling her face redden. "I -- I was just wondering if you could have one of your dwarfs deliver a valentine for me."

"You mean one of my friendly, card-carrying cupids," Lockhart corrected her cheerfully.

"Whatever," Ginny said as he took the parchment from her without looking at it.

"Who's it for?" he asked her.

"Harry Potter," she answered matter-of-factly. Lockhart's whole manner suddenly changed.

"Ah, you're an ambitious one, aren't you?" he asked her slyly. "What's your name?"

"Ginny Weasley," Ginny answered promptly. "But don't tell Harry who it's from," she added quickly.

"Oh, you're one of those Weaselbes," Lockhart said smartly. "Ah, yes, I once knew a relative of yours back when I was your age. He was a close friend of mine -- I wonder why I haven't noticed you in my classes before. No matter -- let's see what this is," he continued, looking at the parchment. "Ah, it's a poem -- do you like poetry?"

"I guess," Ginny said noncommittally, but Lockhart wasn't listening.

"I could have been a poet myself," said Lockhart. "In fact, I wrote such excellent poetry that Professor Slughorn had one of my poems published back when I was a student here. He used to say I showed great promise."

"Right," Ginny said, not really listening to any of this. "Anyway, thank you for your time, Professor -- I'm assuming you'll have my valentine delivered."

"Oh, of course!" Lockhart said cheerfully. "We wouldn't want to deprive poor Harry of a love life, now would we?" Ginny blushed, but Lockhart didn't seem to notice.

"Of course not," Ginny said tentatively. "Well, uh, goodbye," she added, leaving before Lockhart could say anything more.

The morning's Potions class was fairly typical -- Gryffindor lost about fifty points, prompting Ginny to wonder if it was possible to have negative points. What made this class unique was an interruption by one of Lockhart's dwarfs. Though the valentine was for Minos Lascasas, Snape had other ideas and took the card himself.

"I don't want you reading this in class, Mr. Lascasas," he had told Minos strictly. "Therefore, I'll save you the trouble..."

An awful smile crept slowly over Snape's face.

"...and read it for you," he finished nastily.

Snape went on to read aloud for the class what turned out to be an extremely mushy account of how cute Minos was. Minos was so embarrassed that he actually ended up crying -- this was the first time Ginny had seen a boy cry in years. Though her ironically cherubic face became redder and redder as Snape read the valentine, Fleeta Fleece vehemently denied that she had sent it. Needless to say, none of this reflected too well on Ginny's decision to send Harry a valentine.

She was still hoping Harry wouldn't receive her valentine while he was in Potions late that afternoon as she headed off to Defense Against the Dark Arts. On the way, she spotted Kimmy Seong talking to a Ravenclaw girl whom Ginny didn't know the name of. Lorelei was, of course, silently following behind them as though afraid she would be lost forever if Kimmy slipped out of her sight.

"Kimmy," called Ginny.

"Hi," she answered. "I was just talking to Artemis."

"Could I speak to you?" Ginny asked her.

"Sure," said Kimmy, shrugging. Ginny would have asked the girl called Artemis to go away, but thought it might be seen as rude.

"I just wanted to ask you if you'd sent anyone a valentine?" asked Ginny, feeling very nervous, as they walked down the corridor together. This was quite a personal question and she didn't really know Kimmy that well. Would Kimmy be angry?

"No," she replied. "Have you?" Ginny's face became red -- it was only fair that she answer honestly.

"Yeah," she said, avoiding Kimmy's eyes, "now I'm not sure it was the right thing to do."

"It's okay," Kimmy assured her. "If the person you sent it to really likes you, they'll still like you if they get embarrassed. They'll know you didn't mean for it to happen like that. Everyone knows talking about love can be really embarrassing."

"Yeah," said Ginny in a dull voice.

"I was thinking of sending a valentine to Minos Lascasas," said Artemis conversationally, "but then I heard about what happened to him in Potions this morning. It's so cute how shy he can be! He's not at all a git like most boys. Who do you like?"

"I'm not really into boys," admitted Kimmy. "I think friendships are more important. Besides, we'll have plenty of time for boys and stuff when we're older."

Ginny walked on silently next to them, shaking a little and wondering if she should try saying something, when she heard something she hadn't expected at all.

"Oy, you! 'Arry Potter!"

Ginny winced instantly, as though her name had been called as well, and felt her face redden. She automatically turned in the direction the voice had come from and saw the person to whom the name corresponded was heading in her direction and being followed by one of Lockhart's dwarfs. The dwarf was fighting though the stream of people to get to him.

Oh, please, please, don't let it be my valentine, Ginny thought desperately.

She supposed it was fairly unlikely to be hers, but she ducked down and tried to dash off just in case. Unfortunately, too many people were heading in her direction to see what the all commotion was about. She heard something rip and turned around to see Harry's bag had split in two. His belongings were spilled out on the floor and coated with ink. As he scrambled to pick it all up, Ginny felt a tight knot of guilt form in her stomach as though this were somehow her fault.

As Harry tried to make a break for it, Ginny began panicking. The dwarf grabbed Harry's knees and brought him to the floor, sitting on his ankles to prevent him from escaping.

"Right," the dwarf said. "Here is your singing valentine." And to Ginny's horror, he sung her dreadful poem aloud for the whole corridor to hear! Every awful word of her awful poem seemed about a thousand times more awful than it had on the page.

No! No! No! Ginny found herself thinking. Everything was going so wrong she couldn't take it! By the time the dwarf was finished, Harry's face had become as red as hers probably was. While Percy attempted to dissipate the crowd, Harry tried, bravely she thought, to laugh along with everyone else. Ginny desperately hoped Percy wouldn't notice her as he bluntly shooed Kimmy, Lorelei, and Artemis off to class. What should Ginny do now?

Apologize, she thought suddenly. Apologize to Harry -- explain to him how you're responsible and how you didn't intend for it to get this far out of hand. He'll understand and forgive you -- then you'll feel better and he might even feel sorry for you.

"Wonder what Potter's written in this?" an awful, sneering voice said loudly. The corridor suddenly became eerily quiet as Ginny turned to see Draco Malfoy holding the very, very last object she would have expected to see him holding.

Tom Riddle's diary!