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Steam was billowing from the train; it had started to move. Harry ran to the compartment door and Ron threw it open and stood back to let him on. They leaned out of the window and waved at Mr and Mrs Weasley until the train turned a corner and blocked them from view.

"I need to talk to you in private," Harry muttered to Ron and Hermione as the train picked up speed.

"Go away, Ginny," said Ron

"Oh, that's nice," said Ginny huffily, and she stalked off.

~*^*~*^*~*^*~

Ginny found an empty compartment and sat down, placing her handbag on the seat next to her. It wasn't fair. Ron was always telling her to go away.

So were Fred and George. Percy ignored everyone and her the girls she had thought were her friends kept telling her she had no chance at all with Harry. No chance. She was a loser, someone without feeling that everyone could use then cast aside.

She'd be damned if she could name somebody who cared about her. Her dad liked Fred and George the best, her mother liked Percy because he was so neat and fussy, and she liked Ron because he was continually helping to save the world.

Nobody ever had time for Ginny. Nobody wanted her.

"Go away, Ginny" Ron had said. Why couldn't she be included in this saving everyone business? She was just as good at spells as he was, perhaps even better for her age.

The only person Ginny thought might understand how sad she always seemed to feel was Hermione. Hermione who spent all her time in the library learning stuff she would never need again. Hermione who was always too busy to talk.

Ginny hated herself for being so depressed. There were starving kids all over the world who had it worse. But hating herself for hating herself only made her feel worse. She couldn't stop.

At first, when she was younger, she had kept a diary and hidden it underneath her mattress with a simple charm to keep it shut. But ever since Fred had invented a counter-charm and George had raided her room, she'd just kept it all to herself. That was why she'd fallen for Tom Riddle's cheap trick.

She'd needed an outlet, here was one. One who could talk back to her and give her advice. An outlet that could help her. Or so she'd thought. Until Tom had taken possession of her mind and forced her to enter the Chamber of Secrets.

Harry had saved her.

Not for glory, not for her life. Just to defeat Voldemort again. Just to destroy some loser who could never really return again anyway. After all, he had drunk unicorn blood. Ginny couldn't think of any possible reincarnations left.

Then again, there was always something.

But right now, she would rather focus on her life, on why everyone hated her.

Why did they treat her as a child? She was twelve, for god's sake! She had a right to know what was happening around her. Ginny knew all about Sirius Black, she'd figured out long ago there was some connection to Harry. All she needed was to be told things.

She could never remember a time when she was truly happy. With her friends, when she was too little to know anything, she had been happy.

'But not really,' she reasoned to herself, 'because when you are little you don't care what you don't know.'

Her thoughts continued along this line for some time. Ginny was so immersed in her misery that she slid her hand along into her bag and pulled something out.

Flicking it open, she stared at it.

"Go away, Ginny"

Well, she could. For a long long time. Probably never returning.

"Go away, Ginny"

Should she? Ginny felt fear rising in her as she contemplated her choices.

"Go away, Ginny"

She'd done this before, a quick flick of her wrist and the strangely comforting pain would clear her thoughts as the red liquid rose to the surface, pooling into a small lake on her palm.

Could she go one step further?

"Go away, Ginny"

Wasn't there someone out there who cared? Couldn't she think of something? She was facing the solution with no return if it didn't work. No second chance.

"Go away, Ginny"

No. She didn't want to. The natural defiance of orders that all her brothers seemed to have in abundance welled up in her now. She didn't want to die. She wanted to live. She wanted to grow up and become a powerful witch. She wanted to find a nice husband and have kids. She wanted to live life to the full, take every chance she got, and just survive. Live for the moment.

Suddenly ectatic, Ginny threw open the window and screamed out into the air.

"I CAN SURVIVE! I CAN BE WHOEVER I WANT! I WANT TO LIVE!"

Almost smiling, Ginny looked down at the small blood-encrusted pocketknife in her hand. She regretted her decision all those other times now.

Perhaps she could remedy that.

Perhaps she could put her knife to better use.

Raising her hand, Ginny began to snip away at her long red hair until it was just evenly touching her shoulders.

Just as she was cutting away the last few locks, the door opened.

"Ginny? Are you all right?" Hermione asked

"Never been better." Ginny said, and for the first time in months, she laughed.