A/N: It's been almost a year. I have no excuses. I have not even one. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Forgive me. I hope this chapter makes up for it. I'm quite proud of it.

One thing: I know Romilda Vane is canonically supposed to be a year below Ginny, but this just fits in my story much better. This story is mostly canon, okay. I promise.

After a few hours had lapsed, the Hogwarts Express rolled into the Hogsmeade station. Ginny quickly jumped out of the train compartment, closely followed by Hermione. It was raining torrents, so the two girls ran and took shelter under an awning. Hermione began scanning the crowd for any familiar faces.

"Oh, there's Hagrid!" she said, pointing at a giant man covered in a hairy moleskin cloak who was shouting, "Firs' years! Firs' years, over here!"

"I'll see you at Sorting!" Hermione called as Ginny ran towards him.

Next to Hagrid was Luna Lovegood, whose face broke into a smile upon seeing Ginny. "Ginny! I didn't see you all through the train ride! Where were you sitting?"

"At the back with Hermione Granger, she's one of Ron's friends," said Ginny.

"I'm so pleased you made a new friend, but I do believe I've discovered someone who didn't like me very much. His name was John Harper, and he was terribly rude. He insulted Daddy's magazine."

"While I was talking to Hermione, Draco Malfoy and his other Slytherin friends came into our compartment."

Ginny explained to Luna how she had punched him in the eye, and Luna cocked her head to the side. "I'm not sure that was the wisest thing for you to do. He just wanted to irritate you, you know. You fell into his trap."

"I know," sighed Ginny. "Oh well. Hey, how d'you think we're going to be sorted? Fred told me it was a test which hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

"A test?"

"Oh don't worry, I think Fred was joking."

"I wouldn't mind a test so much. I just hope it's not in front of everybody."

Soon all the first years were lined up near Hagrid. He led the students to a large lake.

"Where are we going?" asked a small boy with a squeaky voice.

"We're goin' ter Hogwarts," replied Hagrid. "No more'n four ter a boat!"

Ginny, Luna, the tiny little boy with the squeaky voice and a black-haired girl climbed into a boat. At the back of her mind, Ginny had a feeling that something was wrong. Where on earth were Harry and Ron? Were they okay, or were they dead? Shuddering, she quickly pushed the morbid thought out of her head and focused on the beautiful—albeit wet—surroundings.

Finally, they reached the castle. Hagrid helped each child out of the boat and searched them for any left-behind belongings. After returning a wand, a boot, and an umbrella, he knocked on the door of Hogwarts. A prim witch with her hair in a tight bun opened the door.

"I've got the firs' years, Professor McGonagall," he said.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here," she replied.

She led them in a line through the Great Hall. Its ceiling was bewitched to look like the sky above—dark, gloomy, gray, and wet. She led them past the four house tables and the High Table where the teachers sat. At one of the house tables, Ginny saw Hermione smiling encouragingly at her. She smiled nervously back and waved at her brothers who were at the same table. Harry and Ron were nowhere to be seen.

Ginny, Luna and the other first years were led to a chamber beyond the High Table, at which there was one empty seat.

Professor McGonagall said, "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room."

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."

She led them back to the Great Hall.

Noticing that everyone was looking at the hat, Ginny looked at it too. Suddenly it burst into song.

"I know I look bedraggled

But don't judge me too fast

Put me on atop your head

I'll speak what's not been asked.

I Sort each of you children

Into four houses old

Silver, green, yellow, black

Bronze, blue, red and gold

If you belong in Slytherin

You'll know your foes from friends,

The Slytherins use any means

To achieve their ends.

You might belong to Hufflepuff

If you are kind and faithful

Where loyalty is everything

And almost none is hateful.

Or steadfast smart old Ravenclaw

If learning's your forte

No job's too hard, no task undone

And school's not work, it's play.

Or else, you are a Gryffindor

If what you value best

Is bravery above all else

And courage leaves you impressed.

So put me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be

Try me on and you'll do well

In the house I guarantee."

The whole school burst into applause. Ginny sighed with relief. "So we just need to put on the hat? I'll kill Fred; he was going on about wrestling a troll!"

Professor McGonagall said, "Now when I call your name, come up and put on the hat…Alban, Bob!"

A small, short boy with pig-like eyes and blonde hair came up and put the hat on his head. The hat considered for some time, and then said, "SLYTHERIN!"

The table to the extreme left burst into applause.

"Broncita, Madeleine!"

A girl with black hair, glasses and two plaits nervously put the hat on her head.

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table next to the Slytherin Table burst into applause.

"Brown, Lilac!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The table to the extreme right burst into applause; Lilac Brown was the first Gryffindor in the batch of first years. She squealed excitedly and sat next to a girl who looked incredibly like herself.

"Creevey, Colin!"

The mousy-haired boy with the squeaky voice stepped up and put the hat on his head. "GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat and young Colin ran and sat down at the Gryffindor table.

"Cadwaller, Derek!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the Hat.

The table in between the Ravenclaw and the Gryffindor tables burst into applause.

"Fawcett, Sierra!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Greengrass, Daphne!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Harper, John!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

The Sorting Ceremony was long and tedious. Ginny found her attention slipping, only to notice when McGonagall called out, "Lovegood, Luna!"

Luna stepped up, looking frightened. She went up and put the hat on her head.

"RAVENCLAW!"

Ginny clapped heartily as Luna walked towards the Ravenclaw table. Luna would make a perfect Ravenclaw, she was so fascinated and knowledgeable about strange and interesting things.

"Smith, Zacharias!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Ginny impatiently glanced towards the Gryffindor table. Still no Harry and Ron…was it true that they went to school in the flying Ford Anglia?

"Vane, Romilda!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

And then—suddenly—

"Weasley, Ginny!"

Ginny felt a mixture of terror and relief flood through her body. She made her way slowly to the hat and put it on her head. The hat said, "Ah, another Weasley. I know just what to do with you…GRYFFINDOR!" He shouted the last word out for the school to hear.

She sighed, relieved, and, smiling happily, saw Fred, George, Percy, and Hermione clapping and cheering for her. But still, Ron and Harry were not there.

Ginny sat down next to Hermione and Lilac Brown, who was sitting with her second-year sister, Lavender. "They're still not here?" asked Ginny.

Hermione shook her head but before she could say anything else, Professor Dumbledore stood up and said, "Welcome all students, new and old! Let's not waste time on speeches now. Let the feast begin!"

Everyone laughed appreciatively and the food magically appeared on the golden plates on the house tables.

A sudden movement caught her eye and she glanced up at the High Table to see Dumbledore, McGonagall, and a sallow, greasy-haired man leaving their dinners. Ginny could only assume that he was Professor Snape, the most unpleasant Potions' master.

She nudged Hermione and pointed to the three retreating backs.

Hermione looked alarmed. "That's not a good sign at all."

She tore her glance away from the High Table after hearing Lavender Brown call her name. "Hermione! Where're Ron and Harry? Seamus and Dean told me that they arrived in a flying car, but—"

Her friend Parvati Patil interrupted. "But if they did, they should be at school by now, and I don't see them anywhere."

Hermione had surpassed worry and was beginning to get furious. "If they did take a flying car, they have not only McGonagall, Snape, and Dumbledore to pass, but me, too."

Any living person would have been terrified.

Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape returned to the High Table in the middle of the feast. After the crowd had finished eating, Dumbledore stood up. "Now, before I send you all off to bed, I would like to introduce a new addition to our staff. Please welcome Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart who has sportingly agreed to be our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher!"

There was a burst of applause, from most of the girls in the room. Ginny didn't clap. She was still remembering Harry's red face in Flourish and Blotts.

"And…that, I think, is all. Prefects kindly show the new students to their dormitories. Chop chop!"

Percy was in his element. "Follow me, first years."

Ginny was right behind her brother, humiliated because he insisted on holding her hand (in front of all of her classmates too!) Walking next to her was the squeaky boy in Gryffindor—Colin Creevey, who held a camera eagerly in his hand.

The students followed Percy up to the seventh floor. They arrived to an oil painting of a very fat lady in a pink silk dress.

"Password," the Fat Lady asked.

"You have to tell her the password, or else she won't let you in. Wattlebird," Percy added, "is the password right now. You have to remember it or you won't be let in." The painting opened.

They all filed through the portrait-hole. Ginny found herself in a large, circular room with two spiral staircases going upstairs.

"The boys' dormitories are upstairs and to the right, and girls', same to the left."

Then Percy left the common room.

"Ginny!" called a pair of voices. Turning towards the fireplace, she realized that it was Fred and George. She headed towards them and settled herself into a squashy armchair.

"Did you hear about Ron's and Harry's little adventure?" Fred asked.

Ginny nodded. "It's just a rumor, though."

"No, I'm quite positive it's true," George said. "They didn't even think to invite us, the wankers…"

"It's not funny!" snapped Ginny. "You know mum, she will find out, and when she does—"

The rest of her sentence was drowned out by a loud storm of cheering. Ginny craned her neck to look past the crowd of people who had suddenly materialized around the portrait hole and saw Harry and Ron entering with Hermione. Relief flooded Ginny to see that the boys were okay, but she was irritated by the attention they were getting. Not in the mood to put up with Fred's waggling eyebrows and significant looks between her and Harry, Ginny decided to go to her dormitory.

She climbed the stairs that her brother had pointed out to her earlier and reached a door with the words "FIRST YEARS" printed in large letters. She opened the door. She was in a small, cozy room with five beds, each with Gryffindor hangings and bedspreads. Her trunk was by the bed in the middle.

Sighing, she collapsed on her bed. It was deliciously warm—a house-elf must have put hot water bottles between the sheets.

Ginny had had a long, tiresome day, and wanted nothing more than to relax in her nice, warm bed. That was exactly what she intended to do until she suddenly remembered the diary that her father had so thoughtfully gotten her. She pulled it out of her trunk, grabbed a bottle of ink and a quill, and settled down at her desk.

Dear diary,

Ginny let out an unholy shriek. Those words—they had been there just a second ago! She turned the pages frantically to see if the words were anywhere, but to no avail. She warily turned back to the first page, her quill hovering uncertainly above the page, unsure of whether to try again or not. Before she could make a decision, in the very same ink, words which she had never written appeared on the blank page.

Hello.

She wasn't sure whether to be horrified, fascinated, or a mixture of the two. Diaries, certainly, shouldn't talk back. On the other hand, she reasoned with herself, there were many such magical objects, and the fact that her father had bought it—her father, who worked at the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts department at the Ministry! She should not have been worried at all.

What's your name?

You can call me Tom.

You can call me Ginny. Everyone does, anyway.

That's quite a charming name. What is it short for?

Ginevra Molly Weasley.

How dignified.

I'm only eleven. I have plenty of time to be dignified in my old age, thank you very much. What's Tom short for?

It's just Tom. Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Oh, so this is your diary? I saw your name on the back.

I owned it once, about fifty years ago, and charmed it so it would reply in my handwriting to anyone who wrote within its pages.

That's wicked cool. I can't wait to learn how to do things like that. It's only the first day of school and I've already met some really interesting people, but lessons don't start until tomorrow and I'm dying to start practicing magic because I'm finally old enough to catch up with the rest of my brothers. It's quite exhausting, having six older brothers who get to do everything before you do.

I am afraid that I cannot relate to that problem. I was a lonely, mistreated orphan, brought up in an orphanage, miles away from anyone with magical powers. Hogwarts was a sort of haven for a boy like me.

That sounds ridiculously like this one boy I'm friends with…well no, I shouldn't lie, I'm not quite his friend. He's my brother's best friend, though, and I suppose that makes him my best friend by extension, yeah? His name is Harry Potter, I'm not sure you've heard of him because he's twelve and you're from fifty years ago, but he's quite famous and has the most beautiful green eyes.

What is he famous for?

His parents were murdered by You-Know-Who, who's something of a mass murdering maniac—well, I'm sure you know who he is. But when You-Know-Who tried to kill him, all that was left on him was a little scar—the famous lightning-bolt shaped scar. Nobody knows why, or how, but on that day, You-Know-Who lost his power. Talk about magical, right? You know something's really special when even witches and wizards can't figure out why something magical happened. The only difference between what you told me about yourself and Harry is that he grew up with his evil aunt and uncle and their pig of a son. I haven't met them, but Ron's told me all about them. He and the twins saved Harry from spending the whole summer at his aunt and uncle's by flying Dad's Ford Anglia up to his window—and weren't they mad!

I'm sensing a little crush on this Harry Potter character.

Merlin, Tom, if you could see me right now I'm sure you'd unkindly point out to me that my face and hair have blended into a creature resembling some sort of tomato. Everyone knows, even Harry I think, and I'm slightly embarrassed that I'm so incredibly obvious about it, but I'm not that good at that whole "keeping your emotions secret" thing. I've got a ruddy bad temper, and I'm ridiculously stubborn, too.

I do believe that being stubborn is quite a positive personality trait. It shows that you're not afraid to do what you believe and you will do no matter what to ensure it happens.

I agree with you, but I think there's such a thing as being too stubborn, and I'm it.

I'm not sure I completely agree with you, Ginevra—can I call you Ginevra?

Well, sure, I suppose. No one really does, though.

Compared to Ginevra, Ginny sounds so immature and childish, does it not?

Yeah, now that you mention it, it does. Oh I hear voices—I think my dorm-mates are coming upstairs. I'll talk to you tomorrow, Tom.

Until then.

Ginny quickly shut the diary and stuffed it into a drawer just as her fellow first years Natalie Noberdie, Tina Larraine, Romilda Vane, and Lilac Brown.

The five girls exchanged quick greetings, but too exhausted to have a long conversation, fell asleep almost immediately. Ginny thought she would be far too excited to sleep, but quickly found herself drifting away.