Ginevra Weasley: A monologue
As I sit in my own prison, I frantically glance around.
I loved it there, but my love turned into hate as I realized it only took lives.
My prison doesn't have bars, nor does it have walls; my prison is what I got myself into, the dairy... the basilisk... and Tom...
I remember that year well; I was young, innocent, and lonely; Tom was the friend I always wanted; my best friend... and my mistake.
The night of Halloween was when I first realized that something was not right with Tom and the diary, that something wasn't right with me...
I even remember trying to tell Harry, tried to warn him, how I tried to stop Riddle, but I failed, as I always did.
Memories haunt me of him; I couldn't sleep after the ordeal, his words disturbing tranquil dreams, his face lingering just out of thought; then I was drowning in him, unable to escape.
But after awhile the dreams stopped and I was left alone, and I even started to miss his presence, my best worst friend. Then late in third year it happened, Tom came back; that is, Lord Voldemort arose.
That summer looking toward the fallen sun, I made a pact to myself, to work as hard as I could next year to help Harry, to help him defeat my fallen best friend, so I stopped being a distraction to Harry and tried to be a friend.
But that doesn't matter now; nothing does… I've helped kill my best friend, my only friend, and that could never be forgiven.
This is my own prison… this is my own hell.
