Fall, 1992
September First. Somehow, the date always managed to sneak up on her, and it always seemed to be different. The weather could be completely different, or someone new would be joining them – or staying behind. It could be the wind that decided to start to whistle, or the foliage turning their many hues before beginning that all-too-rapid descent to death.
This September First, the thing that was different was the extra truck upon the trolley. She was the baby, and had finally reached the age in which she could join her brothers. She tried to keep herself hidden from her brothers on the train, and especially from one Harry Potter. Instead, she sat with her cousins Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood (both somewhere along the lines of third cousin, twice removed, she wasn't entirely sure, though), the former returning for his second year and constantly looking for his toad, the latter (a fellow first year) was wearing earrings made from Cockroach Clusters. The train ride was too short for her liking. She wanted to go to Hogwarts, but she also wanted to stay at home, comfortable and protected by her mother and father and elder brothers.
She was herded into her age grouping once she disembarked. Luna stayed with her while Neville wandered over to one of the horseless carriages, kicking up leaves from the dense coating of colors on the ground. Ginny Weasley found herself looking for her siblings and saw the Twins with Lee Jordan, and "Perfect Prefect Percy" yelling at the top of his lungs for first years (his eyes bugging and face red as he waved his hands around maniacally, she pointed to Luna with a giggle, but Luna very seriously wondered aloud if he was suffering from the bite of a rabid tomato), but not Ronnie or Harry Potter. It felt weird to suddenly go a whole train ride – hours – without seeing them, instead of bumping into them every moment.
She managed her way onto a boat, clutching to Luna for dear life. She'd heard about the carriages and the boats that just propelled themselves, but even so, she was one of many who squealed when they took off from the shore across the lake. Luna just stared into the mist straight in front of the vessel, overtop the heads of her peers. The redhead didn't even bother asking, as she knew her cousin's queerness.
She gasped when they rounded the bend. She'd seen the castle before, for her brothers' graduations, but she'd never felt such awe as she did the first time she viewed Hogwarts as a student.
She stood nervously, one of the last ones called up to be sorted. The hat was placed upon her, and it flopped over her eyes.
"Another Weasley? Oh, you're a girl! First one in centuries, dear!"
I realize this, thank you.
"Snippy, aren't we? It's the redhead temper, I assume."
She chose not to respond to the taunt, even though she wanted to snap back terribly. Could you do me a favor?
"I could try."
Gryiffindor?
"Afraid to be without your family? Hmm, a trait of the house of Lions is to be brave… You're bright, though, and talented. Perhaps Ravenclaw would be best for you."
Ginny shook her head violently, disturbing the Hat and having it tip precariously. Whispered conversations began about what the Hat was telling her to make her react so.
"No? Why not? Oh well… I see compassion. Hufflepuff?"
Again, violent no. This time, she dislodged the Hat significantly, but still it stayed. The conversations grew slightly louder, but not loud enough to attract the attention of the Twins, who would hex anyone talking badly about their baby sister into the next millennia.
"You're a clever one. Slytherin would suit you for that, but I hate to nip young love in the bud, so GRYFFINDOR!"
When the Sorting Hat came off, no one could understand why the youngest Weasley ran so rapidly to her table with her hair covering her face, and ducked her head into her elder brothers' robes. Only Gred and Forge saw the glimmer of happiness in her eyes, and her brilliantly red face.
Confundo.
September Third. She sat in a tree, a Sugarquill in her mouth. In her hands was the cheap, old, tattered diary she'd discovered within her pile of school books. She'd never kept a diary before, terrified that it would find its way into Fred and George's hands or, worse, Ron's. Her real quill rested on the first page of the book, ink dripping onto the page. After a moment, she began to write.
Diary,
Hello. My name is Ginerva Molly Weasley – Ginny for short. I'm the first Weasley girl to have been born in quite a few years, at least three generations (I'm also the baby of the family, can you believe there's seven of us??!), and my mum's a Prewett. That makes me a pureblood, only my family is considered a blood traitor. I'm a first year student at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. I'm in Gryffindor, and I have a terrible crush on this boy named Harry Potter… He saved the Wizarding World from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but… His eyes are what I like best about him.
The ink shone wet on the page for a few moments, then soaked into the pages. Ginny smiled, knowing some of the more-expensive diaries did such a thing so as to keep nosy people out, unless they knew the password. Perhaps the diary wasn't as cheap as she had believed.
She went to close the pages when she realized there were words faintly etched onto the page. Her brown eyes went wide when she realized that they were neither her penmanship nor her words, and they were darkening every second.
Ginny,
Hello, dearest, my name is Tom. I, too, am a student at Hogwarts, but I'm a halfblood.
Six brothers? You must be joking! I'm an only child, my mum had me and then she died, so I went to an orphanage. First girl in centuries? Wow, that's amazing.
Harry Potter?
Here the other writer seemed to pause, and the next sentence came out more forcefully than any of the others.
Never heard of him. What's he like?
I hope you can trust me, and that we'll become great friends. I've never had a real friend before.
-Tom
At the final sentence, Ginny's heart broke. An only child, orphaned, with no friends? She wanted to take care of him. She began to scribble back furiously, a small half-smile of pity on her face.
Obscuro.
Early October. Ginny had completely lost track of the dates, and was starting to feel sicker and sicker. Couple that with her blackouts, which were slowly getting worse, and she started believing that she should maybe talk to Percy about getting help from Madam Pomfry.
Of course, when she did decide to speak to him, he just plugged her nose and shoved some PepperUp Potion down her throat. That wasn't the point, she thought, sputtering. I think I'm going crazy! A lump started to rise in her throat, but turned away from her company as she told herself to just breathe. She didn't want Percy to see her cry, and then write to her mum about it. Molly would probably march up to the castle to collect her daughter herself.
She shook herself, called out a small thanks to Percy as her throat began to burn, and walked slowly, carefully, away.
Episkey.
Mid-October. She was growing weaker by the moment. She tried to avoid Percy by staying in bed most of the time, and only leaving for meals or classes. Now, she pulled out her diary from under her pillow, stifling a yawn. She was so tired, wanting nothing more than a nap, but she knew she had to write to her Tom. He missed her, needed her. She opened to the first page, dipped her quill in ink, and set it on the page.
Tom, I think I'm getting sick.
The words shone, and then vanished. A moment later, Tom's reply came up.
Don't fight it. If you fight it, you'll only make it worse.
Before she could ponder his words, her eyes flashed red, then green. Finally, they ended up at her normal brown. With an evil smile, Ginny got up, putting on her uniform, and made her way downstairs. There would be much to do tonight.
Imperio.
Halloween. Ginny was barely eating anymore, but she decided to go to the feast just in case. Her feet, small and clumsy with illness, were unsure on the stairs, and she gripped the handrails with tight, white fingers. She looked like walking Death, so pale, her hair combed but dull, and thin enough to practically see through. Her professors stopped her in the halls, asking if she was alright. She nodded every time, a small smile showing on her flushed face, one of the few places on her body with color.
Even this kind of exercise was painful.
She made her way towards the Great Hall, hearing the faint notes of music coming from its general direction. As she got closer, she heard the song more clearly, and recognized it as a sung version of "Babbity Rabbitty and her Cackling Stump". She smiled, glad that she had convinced herself to leave her dorm.
In the back of her mind, Tom was pleased, too.
Repello Muggletum.