Okay, I've been inspired by one reader's request that I write more stories like "Tired of Crying" (which, in case you couldn't tell, was about ME, not Ginny Weasley). So here's another one along the same lines as that story. It's a sort of prequel to "Tired of Crying". Again, I want to emphasize that this story is about me and the bizarre, convoluted thoughts that run through my head, and I'm merely using Harry Potter characters. It doesn't mean that I really think this is what the characters would actually do. Okay? Understand? If you don't, e-mail me and I'll explain in greater detail.
Disclaimer: I don't own Ginny. I'm just abusing her for this one story and then I'll give her back, unharmed and in one piece, to her owner, J.K. Rowling. I own myself and my life, although I'm thinking of selling it on the black market. At least then it would have a purpose.
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Ginny was so happy. She didn't think she had ever been so happy in her entire life! Finally, after so many years of pining, wishing, and crying, she was Harry Potter's girlfriend. She had wanted it for so long, could almost taste it, knew that if only Harry Potter smiled at her the way Ron smiled at Hermione and her father smiled at her mother, she would be happy.
And now she was so happy! She had never felt so good in her entire life. After all, she was Harry Potter's girlfriend. Harry Potter had chosen her over every other girl in the school. Harry Potter was her boyfriend. Whether she was walking through the halls hand in hand with her new boyfriend, sitting quietly by the fire in the evenings in Gryffindor Tower with her boyfriend, or just sitting in class taking notes lazily with a hot pink quill, a smug look on her face, she felt like the luckiest girl in the world.
A boyfriend. Harry Potter. Mine. The words ran over and over in Ginny's head. She had never had a boyfriend before. Had always wanted one, but had always been too shy, too self-conscious to ever have had a chance. She was Ron's little sister Ginny, skinny little, forever intimidated little Ginny. She always knew that she would never have a chance with anyone, let alone Harry Potter. But if only he would give her a chance, Ginny thought, she knew that he would solve all of her problems.
And now he had. And she was so happy now! She was so happy it hardly mattered that she and Harry hadn't said much to each other the night before. It was enough just being with him. And it didn't matter that she didn't quite understand what it meant when, during a long silence, his eyes would suddenly cloud over he would become distant. It didn't matter that now Cho Chang, over whom Harry had pined for years, had now suddenly taken an interest in the Boy Who Lived. Harry had chosen Ginny, not Cho, and nothing could rip them apart. No, it didn't matter, because he was hers and she was his and what could possibly go wrong? Now she, like Hermione, was part of this elite society who, through luck or fate or whatever, was blessed with a boyfriend! A relationship! Someone to kiss when no one else was watching, to curl up with on the couch, to hold hands with and to pick up your books if you drop them. How could Ginny not be ecstatically happy at this fortuitous turn of events?
Her classmates were amazed to no longer see wide-eyed, scared little Ginny scampering to class, arms clenched tightly around her books as though she might lose her way otherwise. New Ginny walked with an air of confidence that she had never felt before, her head held high, her shoulders squared, and mouth constantly formed in a wide smile. New Ginny spent less time with her fifth year friends, more time with her boyfriend Harry Potter and his sixth year crowd. New Ginny felt pretty, popular, wanted, fulfilled. And she had Harry Potter to thank for it. He made her so happy, she didn't know what she would ever do without him. But she thought, she didn't have to worry about that, right? Getting a boyfriend was difficult, but this was the easy part. No, nothing to worry about. Ginny was now free to be oh so happy for the rest of her life.