This chapter is a) somewhat plotty, but most importantly b) a quest to give Ginny some personality--a quest many of us, I am sure, have had to take. She is simply unlikeable; her immense change of attitude between book 4 and book 5 just shows the reader she is fickle and confusing, and no one likes a fluctuating character or a blurrily drawn portrait. The odd thing is she becomes rather important in this story (obviously--Tom Riddle and Ginny go hand-in-hand).

I was always hoping something cool would come out of the fact that Ginny was possessed by the Dark Lord, that it would make her intuitive or withdrawn or something other than Popular Sell-out Cheerleader Equivalent. Shy, clumsy Ginny was annoyingly amusing; I simply don't know how to feel about New Ginny, especially as Harry's love interest. Their relationship in the books is dull and undramatic--something that the two of them no doubt enjoy, but hardly satisfies readers who enjoy complicated, twisty-turny romance.

Or maybe we've all had just a bit too much slash intake :

Anyhoo, here it is. I hope my version of Ginny is pleasing. I enjoy the sort of rising-from-rags side of her; the fact that she always has to make do with hand-me-downs, the idea that this, along with having six brothers, must in some sense make her insecure. Make her want something special just for herself. But that's just my interpretation. Enjoy.

Chapter Thirty-Four: A Service to Mischievous Youngster Everywhere

The Hogsmeade visit hadn't gone at all the way Ginny wanted it to. She'd gone in an attempt to talk to Ron, make him come around. This was the fifth Christmas he'd spent away from home, and Ginny thought he was being very stubborn about hating the lot of them.

She'd found him in Honeydukes, which wasn't surprising, and he had been talking to a brown-haired girl, which was surprising. When Ginny had shown up, he'd stiffened and asked her, "D'you need something?"

Ginny had nodded. "Yes, I do need something. I need to talk to you about—er—I need to talk to you alone."

The other girl's eyes had flicked shrewdly to Ron's face, which was becoming a glare very rapidly. "I'm a bit busy here."

Ginny had rolled her eyes. "I'm sure that Cockroach Cluster can wait, Ron. Just give me a minute."

He'd shrugged at his friend and gone to join Ginny in a corner of the shop. "I didn't know you had a girlfriend," Ginny'd accused.

Ron had scoffed and said, "Don't be bloody thick. I'm not even sure me and Granger are friends."

"That's a bit my point too, actually," she'd continued, ignoring him. "I dunno anything about you lately. You don't come home for the hols, you avoid me and Fred'n'George like the plague—"

"You can hardly blame me, it's not as if they're really bursting with Hufflepuff pride every time I walk up—" Ron had said sarcastically.

"That's not fair, Ron. For, well, for Fred'n'George, they've been as nice as they get," she'd burst out in exasperation, not noticing that she was raising her voice. "You know they don't think any worse of you just 'cause you didn't get sorted the way mum wanted. That's what this entire stupid mess is about, anyway, you pitying yourself and imagining that we're sniggering about you over something completely pointless—"

"No!" Ron had yelled loudly. "You have no idea what this is about. It's all very well and good for you, 'poor ickle Ronniekins, black sheep of the family, everything he owns is rubbish, everything he does isn't half as good as how Bill would've done it.' It's pretty easy for you all."

Ginny had snorted loudly, pinching the faded jeans and large t-shirt she wore under her cloak. "As if I don't wear yours and the twins' hand-me-downs, as if that weren't half my wardrobe. And you lot never had these," she'd snapped, indicating her chest in a rather grabby manner and watching Ron blush with indignation.

"Ginny!" he'd yelled, scandalized. That seemed to break the spell around them, and the two Weasleys had finally noticed the crowd around them. Ron had then faced her angrily again and said, "Granger's still waiting. There's nothing else I have to say."

As he left, Ginny had yelled after him, her face blazing, "We're not finished here!" before stomping back up to the castle through the pouring rain. No, things definitely hadn't gone smoothly.

When she reached the Fat Lady, the portrait had exclaimed, "Another one of you upper-years! My, my, you do take your studies seriously!" Ginny had no idea what she was talking about, because the common room was empty, actually, of everyone. Woman's going mad, she thought. Spending all that time on the wall must be brain-addling.

And so an hour or two had been spent in a brood, Ginny watching the fire burn until the common room was full of bustle once more. After the room had more or less cleared out, Fred and George approached her.

"Have a nice row with Ron?" George asked innocently.

Ginny gave a mirthless laugh. "The nicest. You heard, then?"

Fred replied, "The whole village heard. Really, talking in private is usually executed in indoor voices."

"He's being thickheaded," Ginny said fiercely.

"And he has been, for about five years, Gin," Fred pointed out. "But c'mon, we've got something to show you."

They led her out of the common room and to a secluded corridor, the floor muddied and wet despite the glowing torches. "Now, Ginny," Fred began, "as you know, me and George are in our last year at this magical learning institution—"

"—I'm going to miss Snape the most, that slimy git," George intercepted. "Think I'll leave him a few Dungbombs to remember us by." Ginny laughed.

"Yes, well, we're leaving in a few months, and our legacy must be passed on to future generations. And since Ronniekins hasn't gotten that broomstick up his ass looked at yet, we have decided to pass the secret of our success to you."

Ginny raised her brows. "Secret?"

For an answer, George took out a blank piece of parchment. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." And Ginny watched curiously as a map of Hogwarts spread out across the empty page.

" 'The Marauder's Map.' Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs?" she asked. "You gave yourselves, what, two nicknames each or something?"

"Oh, heavens no, we didn't make it," Fred smiled. "More like it made us. It shows everyone, everything, everywhere. Very handy, and seeing as we won't be here for much longer, it's time we gave it to you."

"Why now?" Ginny asked. "Bit of a random time, if you ask me."

"We just got it back!" George said gleefully. "Found some Slytherin messing about with it a couple nights ago. I'm not really sure how he got his paws on it—"

"—we lost it to Filch, after our second year, so it's anybody's guess, really—"

"—but the important thing," Fred concluded with mock-pomp, "is that we are granting you this priceless, priceless gift. Don't lose it—and always remember, young grasshopper, to wipe it blank when you've finished with it. Just say, 'mischief managed,' see?"

The map went blank. Ginny had to admit, she was awed. She took the map from George's hands, looking up at her twin brothers, as usual, in admiration. "Thanks," she said with a grin.

George waved a hand. "It's nothing at all. Think of it as a service to mischievous youngster everywhere, and also one step closer to giving Percy an aneurysm. We memorized the map by the end of first year, and we don't mind being caught all that much. And we reckon you deserve a break from all the coddling you get at home."

"Make us proud," Fred said roguishly.

"Just, er…" the twins looked at each other, then said quickly together, "don't breathe a word of this to mum."

Ginny shook her head proudly. "Never," she promised. She had an advantage now, over all the kids with the new robes and expensive broomsticks, over Filch and his nasty Mrs. Norris, over everyone who walked these halls not knowing what lay beyond each portrait and tapestry.

She could do so much with this scrappy piece of parchment, illuminated by the torches on the walls. She could wander the school at night. She could have adventures and secrets and knowledge to satisfy her curiosity. She could do such lovely, dreamt-of things.

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