Disclaimer: I am not J.K Rowling
A/N: I've always wondered about Ginny.
You don't remember much, really, when you wake up and see Harry staring at you. Swimming images of Tom –Tom! What happened to him? - circle your mind; they terrify you for some reason, why? He was your friend…
And then you remember, he was getting stronger, becoming less friendly, more overpowering. He scared you and you didn't, couldn't, ask for help. Not from your brothers, not Hermione, you haven't got many other friends your age certainly not any that would understand. Would anyone understand though? You don't think so. You naturally stand alone; growing up the only girl in a family of seven children does that to you. You do remember desperately wanting your mum, trying to get rid of the diary, Moaning Myrtle's screaming as you fled from the bathroom, terrified someone would find out what you'd done. The thing is, you don't know what you've done. You've got no idea, what had happened to you is a best fuzzy, at worse a mess you'll never entirely sort out.
No one blames you, that much you're told a million times, over and over. You don't mind who blames you, you want to know what you're not being blamed for! And that's something not one person will tell you. You catch the pitying looks, the worried smiles and the eyes darting away as soon as you catch them staring but never once will they explain why. Not Ron, Harry, Hermione, Bill, Charlie, none of the people you can normally trust to tell you the truth but they've failed you here. All you want is to understand but nothing clears, ever.