"I'm afraid you deceive yourself. You are not by any means free. You are only looking out of the window of your prison, as you call it. The doors are locked, just the same."
-Harold
Frederick
Chapter Four
I heard my alarm ringing loudly in my ear at its usual time. I didn't really need it though; I never really fell asleep last night to begin with. My trunk has already been packed for a few days now, and I'm sure the rest of the family is up and eating breakfast before we leave to go to the train station. Breakfast in our house used to be a tradition, until of course Percy moved out. Now mother only places some toast and pastries on the table in the morning and when you wake up, you ate, simple as that. Well, simple to those who ate of course. I don't try to eat much anymore, too many memories of him.
"You know Ginny, you really
should lose some of that baby fat you have. It's not healthy." Tom said as we walked around Hogwarts grounds one
afternoon.
"I've
been trying for a while now Tom, it's not that easy." I replied; trying not to
sound too hurt to the boy I "loved".
"Just
stop eating or something, everyone does it. When you loose the weight, you simply start eating again, but not as
much. Models and actresses do it all
the time, it's normal…expected." He replied. Maybe I was getting too overweight. It was something that never crossed my mind before…
He used to tell me I was pretty, right before he'd slap my face and tell me my looks should not be important to our relationship. I never really understood him at the time; I was so naïve then. But I understand him now, it was all so clear to me. I was too pretty and he didn't want me to break up with him for another guy. But being pretty was not enough, especially now. Now I have to be thin, thin and beautiful just like the models he talked so much about. I would do that for him, for he deserved at least that much. Then one day I can look back and say "I am Ginny Weasley" and people will remember not what I haven't done, but who I was as a person. How many times are people in our society remember for their brains? Do muggles turn on the television and recognize an actor because he is a good actor, or because he is a good-looking actor? Is our society today not about beauty and the goal of perfection? Percy is smart, so why couldn't I be pretty? I deserve that much don't I?
"Ginny get up and down here before we leave without you!" Ron bellowed from the bottom of the stairs. He was just anxious to see his girlfriend and best friend; I however have nothing to look forward to except a long train ride alone. Maybe this year I will have a cart all to myself.
And maybe this year I'll become a prefect…
For once luck was on my side. I can't really say that all too much, for luck was never something associated with my name. But once we arrived at Platform 9 ¾ I grabbed my bags and hurried onto the train to claim the first available cart for myself; Ron, Harry, and Hermione left to sit in the front of the train with the other prefects and seventh years. I, myself, preferred the quiet peacefulness of the opposite end of the train.
I placed my bags around me as if to warn off anyone who might want to come in and sit down; I wasn't in the mood for company at all. With my new book in hand and a small bottle of water, I relaxed and began to read about Demeter and Persephone. My door opened a few minutes after the train left the station and without glancing up I politely told the intruder to get lost.
"I don't know many girls who read Tennyson, or any Muggle writings for that matter." The voice continued, not adhering to my offer for privacy.
I recognized the voice, could pick it among a choir of others if need be. His pale hair was slicked back as usual, but much shorter in length than previous years. His eyes still held the same pale silver-blue tone and were now imbedded into my own dark ones.
"I'm not in the mood for company Draco." I continued without looking up a second time to see the sneer on his face.
"And why not? You haven't been yourself lately Ginny. Something's eating away at you; I can feel it. Don't think I can't recognize the signs? You're pale, more so than usual, far too thin for your height and you're much quieter than the Ginny that started here five years ago. So what's going on Ginny? Boyfriend dump you, parents abusing you…"
"You don't know a goddamn thing that goes on in my life Draco Malfoy. I don't owe you or anyone anything!" I nearly shouted while throwing my new book onto the seat and fisting my hands at my side. His eyes grew wide suddenly, as if he discovered a great secret in his mind. Within seconds he grabbed my arm and I tried to hide the pained look in my eyes and his fingers clenched down on my soar wounds, but he saw my flinch and knew.
"So you're a cutter too? Should've guessed. Signs all point to it, anorexia, depression, isolation…"
"Leave Draco, just leave. You wouldn't understand a thing. I'm fine, so what if I had an accident. They happen all the time and there is nothing you can say to anyone to prove otherwise. Who would believe you anyway? Do you think one of the professors will take your opinion over mine? Ha! Save yourself the trouble and don't even bother mentioning it. I know what I'm doing and I am completely in control." I spat at him. 'So why does that sound so much like a lie?'
"I'll go, but know this Ginny. I'll be keeping an eye on you, you can count on it." And with a sneer and a flash of black, Draco left the small confines of the compartment.
He can never prove it, and he's knows it too. I am the quiet daughter of two noble parents, and he is the son of a Death Eater. Of course Dumbledore would pick me over him, even if he didn't come out right and say it. But his words did sting, and were very true. He knew, or at least he thought he knew. I will have to be more careful from now on, I cannot let my emotions get in the way of my actions. If Draco began to suspect then others might as well, and I can't let that happen.
And why did Draco care what happens to me anyway…?
I pulled the overgrown sleeves of my black Hogwarts robe back over my hands. Surprisingly this robe is not as threadbare and most of the others in my trunk. Most of my robes for school came from Bill and Charlie and have been handed down through the years. Seeing as how I am the youngest and the smallest in our family, most of my clothes were too big for my figure and had to be altered to fit my height. I never altered the sleeves though; I preferred to have them hang past my hands so no one could see the scars on my arms and question me about it. It was safer that way.
The woman who normally pushed the cart of treats through the isles of the train has been replaced with a middle-aged, gray haired, pudgy woman with a kind face and a full smile. When she stopped at my compartment I politely shook my head in decline.
"Are you sure luv? You look a bit pale and much too thin. A couple of Chocolate Frogs and some Every Flavor Jelly Beans could cure that right up." She happily replied. I decided I'd buy a few of the Jelly Beans, maybe on of the girls in my room would like them for later.
"You enjoy the rest of your ride luv," and with that she was gone as quickly as she arrived.
Her words echoed in my head for the remainder of the train ride. No one else decided to bother stopping by, most have forgotten of my existence by now. I guess it's my fault for that though. Since I was a bubbly air-headed first year, I wanted to be popular, attractive, and smart just like my hero at the time, Harry Potter. And until my fifth year I was all of that too, well minus the smart part. It took me till my third year to be known among the other houses as perky, cute (in the elfish sense), and well known. I had a number of friends from all years in several of the houses and I was no longer looked at for my last name. I was a somebody then, and I was so happy. But my mistake came in my fourth year when I dumped Seamus for Tom, and by the beginning of my fifth year everyone seemed to have forgotten of my existence. I became the quiet, unattractive nobody that I was before I started at Hogwarts and to me that was just fine. What did I need friends for anyway when I've gotten through life well enough without them? No, I was much better this way; I was left to read my Muggle books alone. Always alone…
Forever alone…
