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Chapter 3

Ginerva Weasly woke up confused by her surroundings, why was the table next to her covered in flowers, there had to be millions of them. With a groan she sat up and attempted to find a card in the heap of flowers. Finally she found one. Inside of the card it read:

Roses are red

So is your hair

I think I love you

Despite my parents approval

'Wow' Giny thought to herself 'that's got to be the stupidest poem I have ever read! Who would send this to me, and whose parents wouldn't approve of me? I have to be the sweetest, most innocent girl in this school. Everyone loves me and everyone's parents love me.' Ginny sat there wondering to herself for a while until she realized she would have to get ready for class or risk being late to Snape's class twice in two days. "I don't have time for some stupid secret admirer," Ginny thought out loud.

She walked into Professor Snape's class just in time and sat down next to Colin Creevy.

"Since you were the last one in Miss Weasly you can start by summarizing your essay on the types of truth potions.

Ginny was so tired from everything that had happened yesterday and on top of that the stupid flowers and poem she ended up skipping her charms class and went to go visit Ron.

"Hi Ron!" Ginny said extremely enthusiastically.

"Ginny, why aren't you in charms?" Ron answered.

"Well, I sort of decided to take the rest of the day off, but let's not talk about me, are you ok?"

" Ginny, you cant just skip classes," Ron scolded. "Yes I'm fine I was only hit with some stupid stunning curse. It's Luna I'm worried about. Did you know she took a killing curse for me?"

"What, I didn't know that. I didn't think anyone was really hurt from yesterday." Ginny answered confused.

" Oh, Luna's not hurt, well, she's not dead. I don't really know if she's hurt or not."

"That's good then." Ginny answered

" Yeah, Yeah it is" Ron said very distantly.

" Wait, Ron do you like Luna?" When he didn't answer she said "You do like her."

That night there was another mysterious note next to Ginny's bed it read:

You smell like the morning

Of a summer day

Or how my heart is churning

You make everything seem ok

"I smell like a summer day, who is this person, why can't they write a good poem about me?" Ginny wondered not for the first time that day.

Author's note: So… Do you like it?