It was a rainy day at Hogwarts during Easter break, a time of boredom
galore and Easter baskets. The whole of the Gryffindor Common Room
consisted of only a few, sat at a table, listening to Ginny Weasley speak
about her first year, specifically Tom Riddle. It was a horrible story to
tell at a good time such as it was, but it had to be told. Horrible things
couldn't be held in forever, as Percy once told her about a especially sad
moment, when the Weasleys went almost bankrupt. Ginny's thoughts were not
in the Common Room, however, but a place that seemed very far away.
*****
It had been two weeks. Two weeks that Ginny Weasley would never forget. Two weeks ago today, she had come to Hogwarts, finally fulfilling her family's expectations. On her bed, freshly out of her luggage (which still had contents not unpacked), was a diary.
The good thing about diaries is that they could preserve memories. Memories are only life once, and, if not handled well, could easily be forgotten. But for Ginny, memories of her first two weeks should never forgotten. So she picked up the diary-which had a faded name, T.M. Riddle, and a year on it- and wrote.
I'm Ginny Weasley, and I'm writing in Hogwarts, where I've been staying for two weeks exactly.
While thinking what to write, something happened. The ink that she'd just used disappeared, then reappeared, but with a different message.
Welcome to Hogwarts, Ginny! My name is Tom Riddle.
As anyone new to the wizarding world's surprises (although she is a pure-blood) would be, Ginny was utterly surprised that someone wrote back to her. It must be someone in the family, she thought, since it was in her old hand-me-down book.
Hello.
Hello to you too, Ginny. How did you come across my diary?
Oh, is this yours? Oh, yeah, I see the name on the front. Gosh, this is old.
Hey, I take that personally. Besides, I'm only sixteen.
Uh, how can you possibly be sixteen if this diary is fifty years old?
Long story. I suppose I'll tell you one day.
Um, okay.
Moving on, do you like Hogwarts?
Conversation went on like this for hours. (A/N: I'm sparing you boredom, trust me.) Ginny soon felt a connection with Tom, although he was someone she'd known forever, rather than a mere bunch of letters, written in ink, just someone with no face to match a (very good indeed) personality. Ginny had three words to describe him: British charm overload.* (Of course, she would never say it out loud (or on paper, either), for she was a rather shy person.)
After going to sleep, all Ginny could think about was talking (or writing) to Tom again.
*That's what I say about Daniel Radcliffe- British charm overload. Hehe.
Okay guys this is by far the most boring, worst chapter I will ever write. Think of it as a roller coaster- slow at first, then, gradually it becomes- well- God help you. (Or as I say, Merlin Help You.) ( Don't forget to review!!!!
*****
It had been two weeks. Two weeks that Ginny Weasley would never forget. Two weeks ago today, she had come to Hogwarts, finally fulfilling her family's expectations. On her bed, freshly out of her luggage (which still had contents not unpacked), was a diary.
The good thing about diaries is that they could preserve memories. Memories are only life once, and, if not handled well, could easily be forgotten. But for Ginny, memories of her first two weeks should never forgotten. So she picked up the diary-which had a faded name, T.M. Riddle, and a year on it- and wrote.
I'm Ginny Weasley, and I'm writing in Hogwarts, where I've been staying for two weeks exactly.
While thinking what to write, something happened. The ink that she'd just used disappeared, then reappeared, but with a different message.
Welcome to Hogwarts, Ginny! My name is Tom Riddle.
As anyone new to the wizarding world's surprises (although she is a pure-blood) would be, Ginny was utterly surprised that someone wrote back to her. It must be someone in the family, she thought, since it was in her old hand-me-down book.
Hello.
Hello to you too, Ginny. How did you come across my diary?
Oh, is this yours? Oh, yeah, I see the name on the front. Gosh, this is old.
Hey, I take that personally. Besides, I'm only sixteen.
Uh, how can you possibly be sixteen if this diary is fifty years old?
Long story. I suppose I'll tell you one day.
Um, okay.
Moving on, do you like Hogwarts?
Conversation went on like this for hours. (A/N: I'm sparing you boredom, trust me.) Ginny soon felt a connection with Tom, although he was someone she'd known forever, rather than a mere bunch of letters, written in ink, just someone with no face to match a (very good indeed) personality. Ginny had three words to describe him: British charm overload.* (Of course, she would never say it out loud (or on paper, either), for she was a rather shy person.)
After going to sleep, all Ginny could think about was talking (or writing) to Tom again.
*That's what I say about Daniel Radcliffe- British charm overload. Hehe.
Okay guys this is by far the most boring, worst chapter I will ever write. Think of it as a roller coaster- slow at first, then, gradually it becomes- well- God help you. (Or as I say, Merlin Help You.) ( Don't forget to review!!!!