I first noticed the Diary when I was sorting through my books. It was
nestled at the bottom of my cauldron, sitting there as innocent as anything
else. When I notices it was a diary, I was intrigued, and quickly opened it
up to see if anything was inside. But there was nothing. Not a single word,
or ink stain.
Logically, I should have given it to someone else, or stored it away for a later time, but something about the little black Diary held my attention. I grabbed a quill and wrote "Ginny" in flourishing letters. I was jumped when the words sunk into the page, but I then dropped the Diary when words came Iout/I of the page, as though the Diary itself was scalding.
The words "Hello, Ginny. My name is Tom," came seeping out from an invisible source...and began a chain of events that would forever alter my life. From that time on, Tom became my confidant; a friend that I could carry around in my pocket - and one that could never run to others and spill my secrets. I told him everything; my feelings of inadequacy as the youngest, and only girl of a family with six brothers, how no one would talk to me, how Harry and Hermione and Ron treated me as though I were an infant, rather than just a year younger, how I loved Harry, but he only saw me as Ron's little sister. And then I told Tom that I was worried - how I had paint spilled on me, after a threatening message had been found scrawled on the wall. How there were feathers in my robes, after the school's roosters had been killed. How I couldn't remember details, how I became dizzy, and how I was starting to think I was going mad.
And Tom would reassure me, tell me that everything all right, and say," Ginny, you're so beautiful, and smart, and kind," and I would drink it all in, and relish in the fact that someone, finally, had faith in me, and liked me. So I would tell him how very Ikind/I he was, and how Icaring/I and Ismart/, and I felt that when I was talking to him, how everything seemed to fit into place.
But even the strongest illusions fade, and after awhile, I began to be worried. Tom's reassurances, and kind words always seemed to cover something else, something darker, something almost unfathomable. And so I decided to get rid of my one true friend. I tossed the Diary into a toilet in Myrtle's bathroom, and thought that the entire ordeal was over...until Harry found the Diary.
I was terrified. What if he found out that I had been acting strangely, and suspected myself of doing something that I dare not think about? I stole the Diary back from Harry, and vowed to lock it up, and never look at it again.
I underestimated Tom's power. I could hear his voice in my head, all the time, every day, urging me to talk to him, tell him my stories, believe in him again. And so I did. Against my better judgment, I went back to Tom. And it almost killed me.
That horrible night in the Chamber is one that I will never forget. It seemed that one minute I was happily writing away, and then the next someone was coming out of the Diary, actually Istepping/I out of the pages! He was beyond handsome, looking almost like Harry with his dark hair and glittering eyes...but there was something far more sinister in him, something darker, and harder, and ultimately more evil (something bad). A feeling of impossible cold seeped into my lungs, and swirled through my throat, threatening to choke me.
And then he came towards me, and touched my cheek gently, and whispered words into my ear. He told me I was special, different, and that he could offer me more than any one else ever could. He asked me to join him, as he stroked my skin (so harsh, yet so soft), telling me that he and I were two of a kind. And I believed him. I pledged myself to him, down in that Chamber, with the glittering eyes (like his) and the Serpentine voices (like his) and I said that I would join him, and help him, and make him whole, like he had done to me.
And of course, Harry later came down, and he stopped Tom. And oh, how I cried, and apologized, and pretended like I was Iso/I distraught (but I wasn't), and I silently waited for Tom to come back to me. And then he did.
Logically, I should have given it to someone else, or stored it away for a later time, but something about the little black Diary held my attention. I grabbed a quill and wrote "Ginny" in flourishing letters. I was jumped when the words sunk into the page, but I then dropped the Diary when words came Iout/I of the page, as though the Diary itself was scalding.
The words "Hello, Ginny. My name is Tom," came seeping out from an invisible source...and began a chain of events that would forever alter my life. From that time on, Tom became my confidant; a friend that I could carry around in my pocket - and one that could never run to others and spill my secrets. I told him everything; my feelings of inadequacy as the youngest, and only girl of a family with six brothers, how no one would talk to me, how Harry and Hermione and Ron treated me as though I were an infant, rather than just a year younger, how I loved Harry, but he only saw me as Ron's little sister. And then I told Tom that I was worried - how I had paint spilled on me, after a threatening message had been found scrawled on the wall. How there were feathers in my robes, after the school's roosters had been killed. How I couldn't remember details, how I became dizzy, and how I was starting to think I was going mad.
And Tom would reassure me, tell me that everything all right, and say," Ginny, you're so beautiful, and smart, and kind," and I would drink it all in, and relish in the fact that someone, finally, had faith in me, and liked me. So I would tell him how very Ikind/I he was, and how Icaring/I and Ismart/, and I felt that when I was talking to him, how everything seemed to fit into place.
But even the strongest illusions fade, and after awhile, I began to be worried. Tom's reassurances, and kind words always seemed to cover something else, something darker, something almost unfathomable. And so I decided to get rid of my one true friend. I tossed the Diary into a toilet in Myrtle's bathroom, and thought that the entire ordeal was over...until Harry found the Diary.
I was terrified. What if he found out that I had been acting strangely, and suspected myself of doing something that I dare not think about? I stole the Diary back from Harry, and vowed to lock it up, and never look at it again.
I underestimated Tom's power. I could hear his voice in my head, all the time, every day, urging me to talk to him, tell him my stories, believe in him again. And so I did. Against my better judgment, I went back to Tom. And it almost killed me.
That horrible night in the Chamber is one that I will never forget. It seemed that one minute I was happily writing away, and then the next someone was coming out of the Diary, actually Istepping/I out of the pages! He was beyond handsome, looking almost like Harry with his dark hair and glittering eyes...but there was something far more sinister in him, something darker, and harder, and ultimately more evil (something bad). A feeling of impossible cold seeped into my lungs, and swirled through my throat, threatening to choke me.
And then he came towards me, and touched my cheek gently, and whispered words into my ear. He told me I was special, different, and that he could offer me more than any one else ever could. He asked me to join him, as he stroked my skin (so harsh, yet so soft), telling me that he and I were two of a kind. And I believed him. I pledged myself to him, down in that Chamber, with the glittering eyes (like his) and the Serpentine voices (like his) and I said that I would join him, and help him, and make him whole, like he had done to me.
And of course, Harry later came down, and he stopped Tom. And oh, how I cried, and apologized, and pretended like I was Iso/I distraught (but I wasn't), and I silently waited for Tom to come back to me. And then he did.