Disclaimer--Still the property of JK Rowling, Steve Kloves, Scholastic and WB...darn it. Also still intended only as flattery...Trust me, I have NOTHING.

Author's Notes--

Strawberries and Blueberries--Glad to see you're still reading. Hope you enjoy this!

EEDOE--Poor Ginny...looking for a way to feel less invisible and ignored, she ended up losing even more of herself. I wonder if most readers realize the emotional impact of some of the subjects Ms. Rowling explores. Her diversity and wisdom amaze me. I remember what it feels like to cling to those crushes myself...bittersweet. I really appreciate your input about any sequels I might write...I'm going to mull it over while I work on finishing this one. ;-) Thanks for your support! *hugs*

Bill--I'm getting quite attached to Ginny. She's charmingly complex. ;-) Thanks for your advice--I agree with you about GoF and the lead-in to OTP (as well as on Ginny "giving up" on Harry versus "getting over")...I sat down and worked out a rough list of scenes that might be included in Ginny's 2nd and 3rd years, and it looks like I MIGHT be able to manage two stories somewhere between a third and a half the size of this one, but the sheer volume of committment would be huge, and everyone might lose interest...So I'm still mulling it over. In the meantime, finishing this one will be an accomplishment of its own...one that might never have happened without your encouragement. Thanks! *hugs*

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Even if it hadn't been the last class of the day, Ginny still would have headed straight for the dorm, single-mindedly determined to vanquish her demons, as if the attacks would disappear along with the diary.

The diary she hadn't looked at since Christmas. The very sight of it made her stomach roll uncomfortably. The room was silent, but she felt as if Tom was hissing in her ear, the words too soft for her to make out. Ginny stared at the plain little book, unable to bring herself to pick it up, certain the moment he did she'd feel his touch sear through her.

"For Hermione," she said out loud, using the words to firm her resolve, shaky as they were. She lifted her chin defiantly, squared her shoulders, sucked in a deep breath. She snatched it up in one hurried motion before she could lose her nerve, and ran dangling it between her thumb and forefinger an arm's length away from her.

She hadn't known she was going to Myrtle's bathroom until she got there, but underneath the first jolt of surprise was a strange conviction that disposing of Tom's diary here, where he had somehow drawn her away from reality and away from herself so many times, was fitting...surely the site of a nightmare was the best place to exorcise it.

Ginny reached out to throw it away, and looked down at it one last time. She frowned, shaking. She hadn't meant to do that, she hadn't wanted to look at it ever again. All she wanted was to get rid of it. She wished she'd never found it, never seen it to begin with.

It looked so plain, so ordinary, so unassuming....like her...it held the hopes and dreams and fears of innermost heart...she didn't want to throw them away.

It held the face of boy she saw when she looked in the mirror, a face connected with near-forgotten memories of snakes and cold, crushing knowledge of her own inner evil. She wanted to get rid of him...rid of the horror that haunted her, the horror she half-suspected he brought her.



Tom had listened to her when no one else had...comforted her when she was forgotten...soothed her when she was frightened, advised her when she was uncertain....he was her closest and most loyal friend...she didn't know what she would do without him...



Instinctively, Ginny pulled her hand back toward her as if to reclaim the diary, to protect it...



And remembered the look on Colin's face.



She saw it on Hermione's face. On Harry's. On Ron's.



Ginny gave a strangled shout, tossed the diary into the toilet as hard as she could, and flushed.



There was a muffled plunk and gurgle, and only the surface of the water in the toilet, silent and still. Ginny watched it, feeling strangely blank and empty.



Water erupted without warning, splashing in torrents over her head, the stall, the floor. It ran down her face, blinding her, and flooded her shoes. And it kept coming.



Coughing, wiping her hand down her face in an attempt to get rid of the water, Ginny dived for the doorway, her feet slipping and sliding across the stone floor.



The hallway was already starting to flood. Ginny splashed through it, looking around for witnesses, but it seemed deserted, as if she were the only person left in a world gone mad.



"What happened to you?" a sardonic drawl demanded from the foot of the stairs, interrupting her squelching progress to the dorm.



"Toilet," Ginny said shortly, not bothering to turn around.



"You must have made it sick. I've never seen that much water come out of a toilet," the voice sneered. "You look like one drowned Weasel."



"Better a wet weasel than a slippery rat," Ginny retorted, pointing at Malfoy with her wand. She was pleasantly surprised to see her hand was steady.



"Ooh...the Weasel's gonna curse me," Malfoy whined. "What are you going to do-make me a relative?"



"I wouldn't punish my family that way," Ginny said coolly.

"Virginia Eileen Weasley!"



Ginny rolled her eyes without bothering to turn around, let alone lower her wand. /Percy again./



"What is going on here?"



"I just asked her why she was so wet," Draco said ingratiatingly, "and she went berserk-I don't think your sister's all there, Weasley."



"I am a Prefect," Percy snapped. "You should address me respectfully-I've already told you that. Ginny, how did you get so wet?"



"What difference does it make?" Ginny demanded. She would have crossed her arms if she hadn't been holding her wand.



"You've been up to no good." Percy said sharply. "Did Fred and George put you up to this?"

"I haven't done anything!" Ginny contradicted. "I just got wet...and Malfoy insulted me!"



"I don't have time to get to the bottom of this," Percy announced importantly. "So let's just make it 5 points from Slytherin for insolence, and 10 from Gryffindor for fighting in the corridors, shall we?"



"But Percy--" Ginny protested indignantly as Malfoy glowered threateningly at them both.



"Move along," Percy ordered shortly.



Malfoy cast one last disparaging look at Ginny's dripping robes and Percy's too-shiny badge, and subsided into the background.



"Mr. Malfoy is very influential at the Ministry of Magic," Percy hissed at her as she started to push past him up the stairs. "It might be to your benefit to be nice to his son, Virginia."



"It might be to your benefit to pull your head out of--" Ginny started to snarl back.



"5 more points from Gryffindor for disrespect," Percy interrupted.



Ginny snorted. Her socks gushed softly as she climbed another step, and the soles of her shoes squeaked loudly.



Percy muttered something, and heat rose through her robes, sending up clouds of steam. She was still damp, but at least she wasn't dripping wet.



Ginny sighed. "Thanks, Percy," she said grudgingly, but Percy was already hurrying on.



Just to cheer herself up a bit, she crept into the boys' dorm and stole a pair of socks from Lee's trunk. Not only was it nice to have dry feet, she thought the twinkling silver stars and white crescent moons looked quite attractive against their navy background, and it was a much needed ego boost to feel so handsomely attired...not to mention the thrill of amused mischief...she had missed it.



She started lock-picking lessons with Lee that night, and he never once mentioned his missing socks, which only added to her enjoyment. The lessons were highly enlightening, as well as great fun, and quickly became weekly events throughout the month of January.