AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay so here is my next fic! It's going to be a slightly dark Ginny-sorted-in-Slytherin story. This is un-betaed so I'm sorry for any typos there may be. I don't know what else to say here except get to reading people!


That summer was horrible. Sticking my elbow in the butter dish just had to be the worst moment in my life. At least that's what I thought then.

I know better now.

I was such a cute little girl, wasn't I? So small, so shy, so Gryffindor. My life revolved around a boy who didn't even know I existed.

I realized that on the train ride. I was so excited to finally be going to Hogwarts I was practically jumping up and down as we entered the platform and I ran directly onto the scarlet engine, barely giving my mum a hug good bye. I must have walked up and down the train at least five times trying to find my brother and Harry, with no success. I finally gave up and ran to the girls' room and locked the door to cry my eyes out, positive that they were intentionally avoiding me.

Who was I kidding? Fancying Harry Potter, the bloody Boy-Who-Lived? To him I was probably just Little Ginny Weasley. Just Ron's baby sister. Just the tiniest end of a string of red heads. That's how everyone saw me.

Is that all I would be at Hogwarts, too? A nameless face under a mop of Weasley hair? Was there anything I could do about it?

Yes! I would do something. I would change how they all saw me. I would prove myself. To my teachers, to my family, to my friends. To Harry.

I would show them all that I was more than ickle Gin-Gin.

Next year it will be them looking for me. And I might let them find me.

Of course now I know what really happened. That crazy elf wouldn't let them through to Platform 9 ¾. But at the time I was hurt and angry and filled with a sense of righteous antipathy towards the world and my red hair. I was shaking in that tiny, slightly smelly lavatory. Partly from the after effects of crying so hard for so long, but mostly from my new found revelation. I could step away from the clan. I was determined to. And it was empowering.

How? Well, I had no clue. How does the youngest of seven shine? I spent the rest of the train ride contemplating just that.

If only I'd known….

Getting out of the boats I realized I was one of the shortest first years. That annoyed me. At least I was the only red head in the crowd, quite a rare occurrence for me then.

I still wasn't sure what I was going to do to stand out, so, like any sensible 11-year-old, I decided to do exactly the opposite of my peers.

So when they all jumped at the opening of the giant front doors, I took a step forward. When they all flinched under McGonagall's stare, I fought the urge to slouch into the background and straightened up, matching her stare. When they all crowded together as we waited to be let into the hall, I stood a few feet away, eyes trained on the door. I was scared shitless, but I felt I had to do it. I'm sure the rest were eyeing me warily, but I never let my eyes leave the doors. I had to stand out, at all costs.

Only problem was I didn't realize just how high a price I'd have to pay.

The girl next to me was shaking. I don't know why I remember that. I don't even remember which of my classmates she was, just that she was afraid of a hat. After everything else we had to do that day, putting on a mangy old hat should be a piece of cake. Then we actually would get cake, if my brothers' praise of Hogwarts' food was to be trusted.

I was obnoxiously confident by that point. My plan had been working so well! All the other first years were looking at me, and not just as the littlest Weasley. No hat could mess me up. And besides, every Weasley ever had been in Gryffindor, I had nothing to worry about.

Gods, I hate that stupid bloody hat.

"Weasley, Ginevra," I usually hate my full name, but under my new ambition it felt right. It was unique and classic and no one else in the school could claim it.

I confidently stepped up to the rickety old stool and the professor placed the hat on my head.

Oh, another Weasley. I heard coming from somewhere near the inside of the back of my skull. I nearly jumped off the stool in surprise.

A strong Gryffindor line you come from, missy, I hope you know. The voice had an ancient feel to it, as if it had seen more than its share of the world.

Yes, sir. There has never been a non-Gryffindor Weasley in recorded history. I felt I should be polite. After all, this hat did have the power to influence the next seven years of my life.

Very true. But what is this? Ambitious I see. A hunger to be more than just another red head in a sea of Weasleys. But courageous, too… Oh, yes. This goal takes a great deal of courage to undertake, and even more to accomplish. Where to put you…

I honestly wasn't really paying attention to the hat's ramblings. There was no doubt in my mind that I would soon be joining my brothers. Not to mention Harry. I was humming quietly to myself, impatiently waiting for the hat to get on with it.

Hmmmm… You will be notable, young lady. I see that. You will be unlike any other Weasley. And I will help you.

My foot started tapping to the beat of my humming.

You will make your mark in—SLYTHERIN!

I've never heard the Great Hall that silent. I'm talking crickets.

I didn't move. I couldn't move. My world was crumbling. My heart was breaking.

Time seamed to slow as I sat on that stupid stool. I sought out my brothers' faces at the Gryffindor table, where I would never sit. They registered shock, anger, confusion... all directed at me.

"Miss Weasley!" McGonagall barked, trying to get me to move. I turned to look at her, hoping to find some kind of answer in her face. To what question, I didn't know. But the professor was blank.

To this day I don't know how I did it. How I made my feet move, how I made it to the far end of the Slytherin table. It was as if I was in a trance. A very out of body experience.

I don't think I ate anything that night. I just alternated from staring blankly at my golden plate to trying to catch my brothers' eyes. They were staunchly avoiding looking anywhere near my direction. My eyes stung, but I refused to let a tear fall. Not there. Not then. Not with the whole hall stealing not so subtle glances at me.

I crumpled in on myself. As hard as I had been trying to be noticed not even half an hour before, I was now trying to hide in plain sight.

The rest of the night is a blur in my memory. I somehow followed the Slytherin prefects to the dormitories. It was cold down so low in the dungeons, and slightly damp. I felt at home in that moment. I entered the dorm marked "FIRST YEAR" and collapsed onto the bed next to my trunk without looking at my surroundings. I didn't notice that the walls were a very rich shade of green or that I only had one roommate or that she sat on her bed watching my every movement with her calculating dark blue eyes.

I yanked my curtains closed and cried myself to sleep as quietly as I could.

The next morning I woke up cold in my bed. I was surrounded by yards of fluffy down comforter, but I was cold.

All I had to do was open my eyes and see all the green around me to remember why.

Don't get me wrong, I love green! It happens to be one of the only colors that compliments both my pale complexion and deep red hair. Green also brings out the gold flecks in my otherwise boring brown eyes. Green is good for me.

Just not when I was expecting to wake up in a sea of crimson.

Every second I spent in that dungeon made my heart freeze over a bit more. Even the scalding shower that left my skin raw and red did nothing to help thaw the frost.

Putting on my striped green and silver tie nearly made me run back to my bed to hide for the rest of the day. But that was when I finally felt her eyes on me. I turned to see her sitting on her bed in the same position from the night before, a stance I would get used to in the next couple years.

She was just sitting up from putting on shoes that were probably more expensive than my whole wardrobe. It felt as if her eyes pierced through me from under her heavy lids and delicate eyebrows. That would be a good word to describe her: Delicate. At least if you didn't look too closely. Her glossy black hair waved gently past her slim shoulders. Her bottom lip was slightly fuller than her top, giving her a perpetually pouty look. She looked like a porcelain doll.

Until you looked into her eyes. There was a glint there, even at 11, of something hard, something fierce, something… dangerous.

She didn't speak a word, her face was expressionless, and yet I could tell without a glimmer of doubt that she didn't like me. No that's not right, she hated me. Passionately.

I don't know how long our staring contest lasted, her sitting on her bed and me standing in the middle of the room on the plush silver carpet. It could have been seconds or it could have been hours, but as I felt her hatred bore into me I felt myself wanting to slouch, wanting to give in to her silent pressure, her mute superiority. I wanted to slink away into the shadows.

And I almost did.

I was about to drop my eyes, to give up and solidify my place of shame and inferiority among the snakes. It's easier that way, right?

She seemed to sense my intention to fold. A slow smirk started to spread across her face as she felt herself winning this power play. And it made me falter.

Why should I give in to this girl? Who was she to make me ashamed in my own room? What makes her superior to me?

Nothing.

In that moment I made a resolution that would stick with me to this day. At the tender age of 11 I made the most important decision of my life.

I would not be cowed.

No person could make me feel little. Only I could do that to myself. And even if their taunts and stares make me want to run screaming from the room, they would never know. Yes, I was a Weasley and a Slytherin, but I would be strong. I would be seen.

I didn't realize it at that time, but what I thought was Gryffindor courage was actually Slytherin cunning and self-preservation. Maybe I really was a snake, even back then.

So instead of backing down to this intimidating girl, I jut my chin out stubbornly and straightened my shoulders. Looking down my nose at her, I saw a brief flash of shock cross her face before she schooled it back to a guarded neutrality.

I turned on my heal, grabbed my book bag, and left, closing the door behind me with a decisive click without glancing back. I walked with all the confidence of my 11 years through the common room, ignoring the stares and whispers following me. They couldn't hurt me then. I was empowered and invincible. I had just passed my first test in Slytherin.

I would find out later that day in classes that her name was Daphne Greengrass. I would realize upon hearing McGonagall call role in our first class that she was one of the Greengrass's. It would be a few months before I realized she was an heir. It would be years before she changed my life.

In hindsight I shouldn't have let my victory over Daphne make me forget why I had been dreading going down to breakfast. But you know what they say… 20/20 and all that.

I didn't notice it at first, still glowing as I replayed the scene from the dorm in my head. As I passed people on my way to my seat at the end of the Slytherin table they would stop all conversation, whip their heads around to stare at me, then start whispering furiously. It was like the entire hall was doing the wave. Quite impressive, that.

When I finally found my seat and looked around at my classmates I noticed the stares. My first reaction was to blush and hide behind my hair, but I fought against that impulse, and it was an epic battle, indeed. Instead I started a mantra flowing through my head. It was something I'd heard Mum telling a scared Charlie when he first started playing Quidditch with the primarily older Gryffindor team:

Fake it till you make it…. Fake it till you make it…. Fake it…

It was just enough to keep my features calm as I spooned eggs onto my plate and poured pumpkin juice into my glass.

Snape moved up and down the table handing out schedules. He tossed mine down onto the table in front of me with barely a glance. Nice. Transfiguration was first. I glanced up at the Head Table where McGonagall was organizing her house's timetables. I caught her eye and saw only calculating distrust in them. Joy. I hadn't even had my first class and already I was on a professor's shit list. How do I do these things?

Oh, right. Being the first Weasley in Slytherin.

Deciding I'd had enough breakfast, not to mention more than enough hostile looks, I got up to leave the hall, figuring that a little extra time to find my class wouldn't be a bad thing.

I was readjusting my bag on my shoulder as I walked through the double doors so I didn't notice them till I practically ran into Ron and Harry, who were entering the hall. They had a distinctly disheveled look that screamed "WE'RE LATE."

"Oh! Sorry," I murmured and caught the strap as it slipped down my arm. "Morning Ron. Harry." I tried to speak as calmly as possible even though my heart was pounding in my throat and nerves were causing a bead of sweat to run down the back of my neck. I couldn't even glance at Harry.

"Morning?" Ron's ears started to match his hair. Not a good sign. "Morning?" he repeated, his voice rising a few notches. Definitely not a good sign. "Morning is all you say to me? After what happened last night?" His voice rose even higher and I was glad no one else was in the Entrance Hall. Harry placed his hand on Ron's arm, trying to calm him down.

Ron glared at me expectantly. He obviously wanted some sort of reply, but I didn't know how to answer his questions. I probably had more than he did. If only because I had a higher brain function.

"Well? Ginny, what do you have to say for yourself?" he demanded. I focused my gaze on a spot just past his shoulder so I didn't have to see the anger, and worse disappointment, in his eyes.

"I… I…" words wouldn't come past the massive lump in my throat. Ron started tapping his foot.

"I… don't know," that was probably the truest thing I could have articulated.

"You don't know?" The foot stopped tapping. His voice dropped and he sounded almost… sad. Disappointed. "Well, I guess I don't really know you," he started to turn away from me. To turn his back on me.

Something in me snapped.

"Don't you walk away from me, Ronald Weasley! Don't you dare turn your back on me!" I was seething. "You say you don't know me, well I don't know you. Any of you! I thought my brothers would stand by me! What is it Dad's always telling us?" I took a step towards him where he stood, frozen by shock. "He says that when you don't have anything else, you always have family. That's what it means to be a Weasley," my voice dropped to a dangerous low. It was clear from the look in Ron's eyes and the step he took back away from me that he preferred me yelling. "Well, you know what, Ronald? Ever since that stupid bloody hat said Slytherin not one of my brothers have come to me. The rest of them avoid me and when I literally run into you, you yell at me. It seems I don't have anything and I don't have family. And you want me to comfort you? Fuck that."

Now he was the speechless one. It felt good. It felt powerful.

"Um…" I had all but forgotten that Harry was still there. I was so livid I didn't have the emotional room to be giddy that he was looking at me with his perfect green eyes. "I'm sure Ron's just in shock. I mean it's not like he was expecting this to happen…" his meek tone annoyed me to no end. Show some conviction if you're going to speak up, Potter.

"Oh, no! How positively horrible for him," sarcasm dripped like venom from every word. Quite an amusing thought if you think about it. "If only I'd known Ronny dear would be so put out by my sorting! Why, it distresses me to think how much inconvenience this causes him!" Harry shrunk a little under my withering glare.

A group of students chose that moment to leave the Great Hall, Draco Malfoy among them.

"Get out of it, Potter. Ron doesn't need saving from you. I may have fangs now, but at least I remember who my family is." With that parting jab at the boy I still adored, I turned with a flick of my hair and headed to the Transfiguration classroom.

"Looks like our newest little snake will fit in quite well, don't you think, Potter?" I heard Malfoy taunt as I started up the stairs.

Classes were a relief that day. I had to focus on paying attention to the professors and finding my classrooms and dodging stink pellets dropped from the ceiling by Peeves. Most people didn't even notice me in the hallways, being too busy shouting to friends they hadn't seen all summer or rushing back to get books and quills they forgot in their dorms.

All in all, I'd say the day was a success.

That is until after dinner. The professors had decided to be nice to us firsties and not assign us homework on our first day in the castle. This is all well and good, I didn't want homework, but that meant I didn't have any distractions.

I saw Malfoy leave to head back to the common room, and after the looks he'd been giving me throughout the meal I knew that option was out. I decided the library was probably my safest bet.

I got lost three times and found my first secret passageway.

It was pretty deserted, what with it being the first day of school and all. I rushed past Hermione sitting in one of the center tables surrounded by mountains of books and headed to the furthest, dustiest corner I could find. I found the perfect spot. It was in a little nook behind the shelves that housed such respected tomes as Caring for Flobber Worms and Other Rewarding Creatures and Dirty Toe Nails: A Helpful Guide to Self Grooming. Obviously it was a heavy traffic area.

It had a disgusting looking armchair that had a bit of spring sticking through the upholstering and you felt as if the whole thing would collapse whenever you sat down and a tiny table that was never steady because each of its legs were a different length.

Like I said, perfect.

It was then that I first pulled out the diary I thought my mum had bought for me as a surprise. The first few lines I wrote down were mostly expletives. What? I grew up with six older brothers, deal with it.

I loved that the ink disappeared. It made me feel as if I could write anything because no one would ever see it. I wouldn't even see it later so I could say all the things I was ashamed to really even think. Like how much I missed my brothers and how I thought that maybe Malfoy would look okay if he stopped slicking back his hair. Sometimes I would just make angry slashing marks across the pages that wouldn't tear.

You see, Tom didn't respond for a few weeks.

I don't know if that was because he wasn't strong enough yet to interact, or if he was letting me get attached so he wouldn't scare me away when he finally did make contact. Either way, it worked well. Too well.

Tom became my everything.

The first week of class passed in a blur. By the weekend I found four more secret passageways and was probably able to get around the castle faster than any of the other first years. This was also helpful to keep me out of sight of the rest of the school, especially my brothers who still gave me dirty looks whenever they saw me.

Since I didn't have any friends in my house and the brothers prat refused to talk to me, I had a lot of free time to study and do homework in my little nook. In that short space of time I was already able to set myself above the other first years in the classroom. All the professors seemed to take an instant liking to me: my homework was always done neatly, I was prepared for all my classes, and the absence of friends meant I wasn't disruptive. All the professors except for two.

McGonagall was subtle about it. She never treated me overtly different from the other Slytherins in the class, but her eyes tended to linger on me a bit longer than on the others with a guarded glint to them. She couldn't figure out how this red hair went with this green tie and it infuriated her to no end not to have me in her lion's den.

Snape, on the other hand, glared at me with thinly veiled disgust. Tuesday after lunch I used that first secret passage way I found to get me to the potions lab before all the other Slytherins and Gryffindors for my first potions class. I'd found that if I was the first to class the other students had to choose to sit next to me, I wouldn't be the one burdening them with my presence. It was a good plan, all in all.

I took my seat at the far front corner of the classroom and started setting up my desk. I was just pulling my textbook out of my patched messenger bag when the professor walked in. I glanced up from the slightly hunched over position with my arm half in my bag and caught his eye. The already cool room seemed to drop to below freezing and I shivered at the ice in those coal black eyes.

His sneer unfroze me as he turned to the board as if I wasn't in the room at all. He flicked his wand and the chalk began writing notes on the board as Snape went to his desk without a second glance at me to start grading the piles of papers he already had on the second day of classes.

Well, fine. If I don't exist to him then he doesn't exist to me! I started meticulously copying down the notes in the still empty classroom. Snape never once glanced up from marking D's on what I'm sure was a stack of perfectly decent papers.

When the other students began filing in the seats next to me were the last to be filled. It ended up being some unfortunate, mousy haired Gryffindor. Calvin or something. It was my first Gryffindor/Slytherin class and I was interested to see how many explosions would arise. Both magical and not.

Snape, of course, started out with some trite speech about how we are all idiots and would no doubt blow up the castle by the end of the year. While he would never openly show hostility to one of his Slytherins in front of a room full of Gryffindors, the menace dripping off his tongue as he called "Weasley" during attendance left no doubt that I was at the bottom of the Slytherin monkey barrel. The Gryffindors didn't even notice, but the Slytherins' eyes gleamed with the knowledge that their head of house was behind them.

Fake it till you make it….

Head held high, I brewed half a perfect potion before Mr. Mousy Gryffindor blew up his cauldron forcing us all to exit the classroom as quickly as possible to avoid the noxious fumes.

The first time Tom wrote back to me I nearly wet myself.

I had been complaining about my life in Slytherin when it happened:

"I HATE them! I really HATE them!!! All they do is stare at me! I can't even walk through the common room without feeling them glaring at my back or muttering about 'blood traitors'!! I try not to look at them, really I do! But I see the malice out of the corner of my eye. And Greengrass! What is her PROBLEM!?! She only ever sits on her bed and STARES at me!! No emotion, just stares! That's probably the creepiest thing of all! Yeah Malfoy's vile taunts make me want to hex him to next week, but those stupid blue eyes staring at me are what really creeps under my skin! I sit there with her eyes on me and I can feel myself cracking… I'm breaking down and I don't know how I keep myself together, I really don't… I'm cracking from the inside out…"

"It's going to be okay, Ginny. I know just how you feel… I was an outsider in Slytherin once, too."

I squeaked and jumped out of my seat and threw the diary at the bookshelf across from me. My mind raced. Was I going crazy, was this some sort of elaborate prank, was it the other Slytherins, was it Fred and George…

When my heart finally started beating again and my breath was almost back to normal, I took my wand out and stepped tentatively towards where the book landed on the ground. I poked it with my wand once and jumped back quickly. Nothing happened. I poked it a few more times. Nothing happened.

Finally deciding it wasn't going to explode and turn me into a rainbow colored gerbil, you can never be too careful when the twins may be involved, I picked the diary up and went back to my seat. Going back to the same page as before I wrote:

"What are you?"

"I'm sorry, Ginny. That was very rude of me. Hello, my name is Tom…."

And the rest, as they say, is history.


AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay guys so there was the first chapter! I have a couple more written, but I wont post them till I get farther so don't expect super quick updates. I would really appreciate any feedback, especially constructive criticism. And I respond to each review personally! Each review touches me in a way and inspires me to write more, so if you're dying for the next chapter be sure to push that little button down there and tell me if you loved it, hated it, or think it needs some fluffy, pink, man eating bunnies!!