Truth
This isn't a fairytale. If it was he'd have kissed her by now. Onesided Ginny/Harry. Not friendly to Ginny. Don't like, keep it to yourself. Fits with Altered Perceptions, but can be read as a standalone.
My problem with Ginny is that there is absolutely no character development. She's this scared little girl then all of a sudden she's hot and I do mean all of a sudden. Makes no sense to me. Plus the whole thing screams Oedipal complex to me. What they'll get married and turn out little Lily James carbon copies? Ick. Plus fangirl. All condemn her to me. So I made her grow up. Sue me.
Published 12/05/11.
Not mine.
You fall in love with a legend, hearing the story in the warmth of your mother's arms. You know how it will end, so you're not afraid. The monster is slain, the hero lives and you forget that his family is dead. You'll marry him one day, because he is a hero and he needs a princess and your family has always called you that, youngest of seven.
The myth grows.
He will be handsome and clever and modest. He will be a gentleman and sweet, chivalrous and brave. He will save you and your children will be named after his dead parents you think with all the casual cruelty of a child.
You think Boy-Who-Lived before you think Harry and you are unprepared for the actual sight of him. He is smaller then you thought he would be, but he has the nicest eyes you ever seen, emerald and magnified by the glasses he wears. He is polite and shy. And he blushes when he has to ask for help.
This meeting only magnified your expectations. In a few years he will be handsome and Ron writes to tell about his best mate who is smart and kind. He writes about trolls and how Harry jumped on the troll to save the girl. This angers you because you are supposed to be the one the Boy-Who-Lived saves never mind that he has no idea who you are. (Or worse he knows who you are and doesn't care, just his best mate's little sister.)
He is brave. Ron writes about him often because you have made no secret of your interest. The thing about Harry never having had presents on Christmas sets off some warning bells because presents are something everybody gets. Isn't it right though that a tragic hero has had a difficult life? It will only make him a better person.
You don't understand Ron's concern when the Boy-Who-Lived doesn't write back. He's probably just busy. He's the Hero nobody can hurt him.
Then Ron and your twin trickster brothers go and fetch him. He's cheerful and polite and he watches your family with something like awe. That's ok you decide, if he loves your family he is more likely to love you as he is supposed to. Never mind that he never had family, he's a Hero they don't need families.
The little black book you found in your cauldron is a diary, a gift from him because he is too modest to give it to you himself.
You love the diary and Tom is your best friend because he listens unconditionally to what you have to say. You talk about Harry all the time and he assures you of what you already know. You are smart and funny and beautiful and Harry does love you.
You only remember his family died on Halloween only because you go looking for him and can't find him. Neville who has a bit of a crush on you tells you that Harry likes to be alone today. Because of what happened he said. It takes you a moment to put it together because a boy who grieves for his parents is far removed from your mental image of him.
You go back to your diary and start to write. You wake up in your bed in the Gryffindor common room with you hair wet and no memory of the past hours. The diary is open on your bed and you hide it as hastily as possible.
You say nothing. You are a princess and in fairytales the princess has nothing to worry about because the Hero (who may or may not be a prince) will save you. It never occurs you that this is not a fairytale and people die.
You write in the diary and Tom comforts you. He tells you stories and spins elaborate webs out of your hopes and dreams. You loved him. Love him. You are caught in the spider's web and have no hope of extracting yourself from it because he tells the best stories (lies) you have ever heard.
You are not a fool. If you were you wouldn't have noticed that the attacks correspond with the periods you can't remember, that these memory lapses correspond with writing in the diary.
You don't care.
It's no skin off your back if a couple of kids you don't care about end up in the hospital wing. You are just waiting for the Boy-Who-Lived to realize what is happening to you. And Tom makes you feel loved as no one else does. Your brothers ignore you, Harry you are sure watches you silently but he doesn't speak to you. Too shy Tom assures you. You in all your untouchable arrogance believe him.
Until the Boy-Who-Lived finds Nearly-Headless Nick and Justin Fitch-Fletchley and everybody believes he is the Heir. Isn't it right that a Hero face trials? Tom hisses to you handsome face smiling.
It's too close to what you believe. You throw the diary across the room suddenly frightened by what he has been telling you all along.
You make yourself stop writing. It physically hurts you.
You are weak. You lapse over Christmas break and flush the diary done a toilet when you return to Hogwarts.
You don't steal it back to protect Him, no matter how he assigns that motivation to you later. You do it to protect yourself because Tom has enough blackmail material on you to completely destroy you in his eyes.
Tom is angry. So angry and for the first time you realize he could kill you. Stupid of you to not realize that before, but you grew up youngest of seven and your brothers have always protected you. You wonder if this is what Ron felt facing the chess set. You dismiss the thought. He is nothing like you.
The cruciatus burns through your nervous system. Your hands shake and you are in agony for days. You make certain not to give Tom any reason to use it again.
You wake in the hallway looking down on Hermione, your hands covered in blood. You think you killed her. You hide in your dorms bathroom crying. You vomit. You can't keep food down lately. Your body is in revolt. You can count your ribs, standing naked before that mirror.
You tell your roommates you're ill and they use other bathrooms. Your hands shake as you study yourselves in the mirror. You are pale more so then usually. Your hair never particularly beautiful is dull and greasy. The shadows under your eyes are consuming your face. You look half-dead and you feel a flash of hot rage because it is your brothers' duty to protect you and they won't even acknowledge you.
You resolve that you will tell Dumbledore but somehow you keep postponing and he is gone. You wonder if it his habit to leave the school whenever someone is in danger, recalling the story Ron told from across the kitchen table, pale, his head bandaged. Madam Pomfrey offered to heal it totally, remove the scar. Ron had said no, some things need to be remembered.
You didn't understand. Still don't. There is a tiny white scar at the edge of his hairline, and you refuse to even consider his motives. You cannot understand marking yourself permanently.
But then you have an obsession with being beautiful. You are not. Tom tells you this everyday mocking you with your secret fears that like a fool you spilled to him through ink and worn pages.
Ron dismisses you and Percy all but tells you to go play with your dolls, the ones you outgrew four years ago. The twins look mildly concerned and tell you too eat more and you cannot find the words. You are afraid.
You will try to tell Harry because he is a hero. He can help you.
He does not dismiss you. He starts to listen but Percy runs you off and you are angry enough to return to Tom.
The last thing you remember is Tom pulling you into the diary and speaking. He speaks calling foolish, self-absorbed, empty headed, arrogant and vain. Ugly is the word that destroys you.
If this were a fairytale you would have woken to kiss. If this were a fairytale, you would live happily ever after because he saved you.
You wake when he shakes you and there is impatience in the lines of his body. He brings you to Dumbledore and your parents, carrying a sword. He looks like a knight you decide dreamily. Except that's wrong. Knights are not supposed to be covered in blood nor be so small.
He dismisses you to be fussed over in the infirmary, and it is another hour or so before you see him again. He looks like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. You the princess will make him feel better. He is sitting next to Hermione's bed watching her quietly.
You go to him. Thank him. He studies you with blank eyes and your eyes automatically turn to his exposed arm. The scar is ugly and red, a jagged line in the middle of his forearm.
You ask him if he'll have it healed.
He studies you, finds what he wants to know. Some things need to be remembered.
He turns back to Hermione and for an instant you think you understand. (You don't.) He went down there for her, not you. Your heart breaks.
You have no scars from this year but you should.
Some things need to be remembered.
Huh. Not quite what I expected when I started writing. Scars were supposed to be a bigger theme in this. The wizarding world is careless because you can erase memories, scars, lives with a flick of the wrist. Ginny is a product of that carelessness.
Comments are useful, flames are not. Give me your thoughts I'd like to hear them.