Time Heals All Wounds
Ginny Weasley is haunted by the events of her first year, ashamed of her disastrous relationship with Harry Potter, and terrified of losing the only person who saw her as whole.
KTBallerina
Time Heals All Wounds
When I was five years old I fell running down the big hill in our backyard playing chase with Ron, Fred, and George. I cut my knee pretty badly and began to cry. Ron took me into the kitchen to Mum. She carefully washed and bandaged the cut. Still sniffling, I left the kitchen and went upstairs to my room.
Not one week later the entire cut was gone, no scar. And when I showed Mum, she smiled at me and said, "Time heals all wounds."
I was amazed.
At eleven years old, I was already responsible for several very near deaths and unleashing a monster loose on an entire school. Needless to say I was a bit of an outcast and seemed more of an inconvenience than anything else.
Nobody admits to holding a grudge over it, but I wouldn't blame them. After all, I can not imagine being petrified is a very pleasant death. No one really talks about it much, mostly because Ron would have a go at them.
Plus, I myself have a bit of a temper myself and a spot of brilliant with minor hexes. Even though most people think of me as sweet, it never hurts to know how to wave a wand. I mean, I did grow up with six brothers.
I had six brothers who did nothing but tease me for my entire life. That's six brothers who left me out of everything, simply because I was a girl. So, when I got my Hogwarts letter I was excited to have friends who were girls. I was going to be able to talk about hair and robes, instead of quidditch and belching.
However, it seemed I would never have any friends who were girls, not that year anyways. It seemed as though fate had an entirely different plan for me. Consequently, I was forced to live a whole year without any real friends. Well, I did have something close to a friend. He was a boy, who was obviously amused by me, despite the fact I had red hair and numerous freckles.
I had another sort of friend. He was an older boy who first became a mentor and then an obsession. Unfortunately, one of his great strengths was manipulation. And I admit, I was an easy target. I will never forget those first words he wrote me after my brothers teased me about my crush on Harry Potter.
Hello Ginny, my name is Tom Riddle.
Before I even got on the train, I was doomed. I wrote in a diary that contained the memory of a Dark Lord. Not exactly the best way to start your career at Hogwarts. Besides the intense feelings of guilt and brief periods where I believed myself to be losing my mind, I still felt alone.
So, even after trying to get rid of the book, it found its way back into my hands. Okay, I did steal it back, but I was afraid someone would find out the truth. I did not want anyone to know I had been the one opening the Chamber of Secrets. Honestly, it seemed being poor and awkward was punishment enough already to me. Being labeled a murderer and prejudice seemed a little extreme.
Besides the fact I was being influenced by a Dark Lord, my brother completely ignored me. My brother, Ron, to be more exact. He and I had once been best friends, but now he only had time for Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. I was insanely jealous of the pair of them. And I was jealous of Ron, who had befriended Harry Potter.
I had a crush on Harry Potter. I know about two girls at Hogwarts who did not. I know I acted silly and that my Valentine was complete rubbish, but cut me some slack. I was only eleven and he was famous. But, people seemed to think my crush on Harry Potter was yet another reason to ostracize me.
So, considering all this it was really no surprise I spent much of my time first year alone by the lake. Mostly, thinking and writing, while I watched the Giant Squid swim around, but sometimes I talked to him.
The first time we spoke he talked to me.
"I'm not exactly an innocent twelve year old," he said cautiously to me one day, while he kicked some stones into the lake.
"Me neither," I answered back calmly, carefully looking at him.
"What have you done?" he asked with a slight smirk, expecting the answer to be some petty affair.
"I'm not twelve," I replied cheekily, which made him laugh. It was one of the few times I ever saw him so unabashed.
Draco Malfoy was another important boy in my life. Because he was real to me. He talked to me like I wasn't silly. At least, he treated me decently when we were alone. I couldn't say the same about when we were in the corridors, but I understood.
"I smoke," he mentioned casually, which seemed strange because he rarely said anything without thinking about it first. Just then he lit another cigarette from the pack he carried in his breast pocket.
"So?" I asked trying to sound mature and just as casual as he, but I seemed to fail miserably because he smirked again. And it was not the unabashed smile from before.
"So, big brother…big brothers, probably don't want you hanging around me," Draco stated calmly as he took another puff. "I might ruin you."
"I don't think you could ruin me, not after what I've done," I said only half-joking.
Draco looked at her for a minute and shrugged. To him, I guess I probably seemed perfectly okay. I mean, I was wholesome and plain Ginny Weasley. I guess, in the beginning even Draco didn't really see me as what I was.
"Whatever, I'm sure you're a real menace," he said the smile appearing on his face once more.
"I tried to kill a man," I added hoping he would hear the truth in the statement and realize what I was. Or who I was.
This time, he laughed so hard birds flew from the trees.