Halloween was just a week away, and as soon as October dawned upon
Hogwarts, Ginny had caught the flu that practically everyone else in
Hogwarts had caught. She was pale, and weak, but, it seemed Tom found her
even more appealing as usual. Or at least he was more cheerful. Boys. Ginny
would never get them.
Percy bugged her non-stop about seeing Madame Pomfrey for Pepperup Potion. After taking some, she had the embarrassment of having her ears steaming.
Lately, there was much talk in the Gryffindor Common Room about Malfoy's new Nimbus Two Thousand and One. Ron, for one, seemed overcome with a mix of jealously, for obvious reasons, and rage that Malfoy had bought himself into rivalry with Harry once again.
Despite being sick, Ginny was still happy. She had Tom. Although she insisted that she would just write to Tom, rather than him coming out of the diary, he always came out. ("Ginny, I can't catch it," he'd say, grinning, "you forget. I'm a memory. Memories don't catch ailments." "But Tom!" she'd protest, "I can't let you see me like this.!") He'd stroke her cheeks, and mutter things in her hair, and whisper things in her ear. He'd touch her face, her hair, her shoulders, her arms. . . he loved her. Or so he said. Ginny highly doubted he knew what love is, but enjoyed his. . . whatever it was he had for her.
If Ginny could think of only thing Tom could do well, it would be making a sick girl feel better. He'd sweet talk her, and smile at her, and kiss her lightly, and tuck her in to bed, whispering 'Good night', before kissing her on the cheek. Although nauseous, Ginny felt better.
Pepperup Potion does nothing, Ginny would think to herself, irritated. Or maybe it acts slowly. . .
That was as far as her thoughts got during the school day without them being corrupted by Tom. Tom seemed the subject of the. . . well. . . year. As usual, Hogwarts was tedious and boring, and Ginny felt incredibly sick, more so than she actually was, due to boredom.
But, soon enough, something came. Something that not only changed Ginny's week, or month, but her life. Not for the better, either.
Percy bugged her non-stop about seeing Madame Pomfrey for Pepperup Potion. After taking some, she had the embarrassment of having her ears steaming.
Lately, there was much talk in the Gryffindor Common Room about Malfoy's new Nimbus Two Thousand and One. Ron, for one, seemed overcome with a mix of jealously, for obvious reasons, and rage that Malfoy had bought himself into rivalry with Harry once again.
Despite being sick, Ginny was still happy. She had Tom. Although she insisted that she would just write to Tom, rather than him coming out of the diary, he always came out. ("Ginny, I can't catch it," he'd say, grinning, "you forget. I'm a memory. Memories don't catch ailments." "But Tom!" she'd protest, "I can't let you see me like this.!") He'd stroke her cheeks, and mutter things in her hair, and whisper things in her ear. He'd touch her face, her hair, her shoulders, her arms. . . he loved her. Or so he said. Ginny highly doubted he knew what love is, but enjoyed his. . . whatever it was he had for her.
If Ginny could think of only thing Tom could do well, it would be making a sick girl feel better. He'd sweet talk her, and smile at her, and kiss her lightly, and tuck her in to bed, whispering 'Good night', before kissing her on the cheek. Although nauseous, Ginny felt better.
Pepperup Potion does nothing, Ginny would think to herself, irritated. Or maybe it acts slowly. . .
That was as far as her thoughts got during the school day without them being corrupted by Tom. Tom seemed the subject of the. . . well. . . year. As usual, Hogwarts was tedious and boring, and Ginny felt incredibly sick, more so than she actually was, due to boredom.
But, soon enough, something came. Something that not only changed Ginny's week, or month, but her life. Not for the better, either.