Chapter one for my miserable attempt at the OPI Competition :D

Shade: Berry Daring

Pairing: Tom R. Jr./Ginny W.

If anyone had been in the Transfiguration courtyard that afternoon, or watching the place from any of the surrounding classrooms, they would have seen a flash of bright red disappearing into the copse of bushes behind some bushes in the north corner.

Little Ginny Weasley plonked herself down onto the dirty ground and leaned against the wall, breathing hard. She opened her eyes for a short moment and glanced around to make sure she could not be seen. If anyone had been there to see her, they wouldn't have noticed that the colour of Ginny's eyes had changed from their normal brown to a colour that was slightly more akin to burgundy. However, she closed them and rested her head on the stones behind her for a moment, then sighed, opened her eyes and started to rummage in her bag. Her eyes were lighter now.

Absently, Ginny brushed a few feathers from her robes, then stopped and frowned at them in confusion. Had they been there a moment ago? What had she even been doing a moment ago? Surely she was supposed to be in class. Ginny's hand suddenly hit what she was searching for and she shrugged off her moment of confusion as she pulled out the small black book that had become her confidante. Her ink bottle and quill were already lying on the ground from where she had put them in her search for the book and she pulled the stopper out of the bottle and inked up the quill.

Tom, she wrote.

Do you remember how I told you about how I keep forgetting everything I've been doing? Like there are just big patches of black in my head and I've no idea what's meant to fill them. Well it happened again today, just a few moments ago actually, and there are feathers all over my robes. They look like the feathers from the school roosters and I've no idea how they got there, because I don't like roosters that much – they're much louder than the chickens we have at home.

Already the ink was starting to disappear into the book and Ginny frowned. What had she said at the beginning of that entry? It was on the edge of her mind when the ink started to reappear, but in different shapes.

Sweet little Ginny, how many times have you commented on your love of your chickens at home? I am sorry, dear one, but it's getting rather tedious to read constantly about your love of the birds. Why don't we chat about something different for once? In fact, why don't you tell me more about Harry Potter? You said last week about how close it's getting to Valentine's Day - do you have any plans as to what you might do to get the attention of the elusive Mr Potter?

Ginny sighed and sucked thoughtfully on the end of her quill, her face the picture of contemplation. She hadn't really thought of doing anything for Harry because, well he was just so brilliant and brave and famous and courageous and awesome…

Ginny, I'm running out of ink here…

The small girl jumped as the diary suddenly heated up in her hand and she started to scribble again.

I don't know Tom. He's my brother's best friend, is it really right for me to do something about that? I did hear Lockhart talking about his Valentine's Day plans the other day though... He said something about the Great Hall being filled with balloons and flowers and hearts, all in an obnoxiously bright shade of pink of course, and he also mentioned that he would be having dwarves dressed as Cupids deliver poems to people in school. Maybe I should send him one? Oh but Tom, wouldn't you feel left out?

A quick glance at the clock tower showed Ginny that she still had at least half an hour before the end of class. She sighed and closed her eyes again; knowing Tom would probably be writing her a short essay. It was just like him to do something like that after she'd provided him with some information of her plans for Harry Potter. What she didn't understand was why he was so obsessed with him. Obviously it made sense for her to be so possessed by the boy wonder, but what interest did Tom have in him? Ginny wondered if this was what it felt like to be jealous. Tom was her secret, and no-one else's!

Oh precious Ginny, I can completely understand your worries but surely you could make sure your poem was sent anonymously if you were that nervous about it? Think about it a little more, this could be your way of getting over your fear, conquering it! Ginny, I'm well aware of how you feel about Harry Potter; this could be the kick-start you need, could it not? You've mentioned that your mother and father began their relationship whilst they were at school and now they're married with seven children. If you can find the courage to send Harry a simple love poem then that could be you in a few years. I think you need to start thinking up a poem, to express your love for him, but subtly. As for that parting note, how could I feel left out? Surely you'll tell me everything afterwards.

What on earth could a girl as simple and quiet as her… say to impress the famous Boy Who Lived? Ginny's feelings of defeat were quickly quashed by the rest of Tom's reply.

No one's ever understood me like you, Tom. But I didn't mean being left out in the sense that you wouldn't know what was going on. Wouldn't you be jealous if I sent Harry a Valentine and you got nothing? You know, I often wonder what you look like. Won't you ever show me Tom?

Ginny clamped her bottom teeth around her lip as she waited for the reply to come. Usually he replied straight away, as if he adored writing to her, but this reply took him several minutes. While she waited, Ginny absently brushed the feathers off her robes and ran her fingers through her hair to see if any had lodged there, her eyes flickering back to the diary every few seconds. Nearly ten minutes after she had sent her last response, Tom's reply inched slowly into view.

Ginny… I'm nothing if not flattered… And it was very daring of you to say... But it isn't appropriate for you to think of me in anyway even remotely similar to that. I'm a mere memory, I hardly have the strength to write back to your musings, let alone conduct some sort of relationship. Especially an all-consuming one such as love. But I-

The book slammed closed, Ginny did not want to see the rest of Tom's rejection. She felt utterly humiliated – no way would she ever send Harry a Valentine. If this is what it felt like to be rejected by someone on paper, how would it feel face to face? Surely it would be ten times as bad, and already Ginny felt more utterly miserable than she had in her entire life. How did girls cope with this? Maybe she would ask Hermione – Ginny's dorm-mates had been avoiding her lately and she didn't exactly think Luna Lovegood would be of much help.

Deciding that this was the best course of action, Ginny began to pack up her things when suddenly the diary heated up viciously and crashed open onto the date Ginny had been writing on. However, there was no writing on either of the pages, only a glowing square in the middle of the page. Ginny leaned closer to the diary, frowning as she examined the glowing square.

A moment later, the bell rang and students came spilling out of the surrounding classrooms. If they had come out a little earlier, they might have heard a small squeak as a young, red-headed girl was sucked inside a diary.