"I'm gonna cut you up-" Drousilla had kept her meanness at bay most of the time, but it was all coming out now in the Quidditch pitch as they flew around in one of the early mornings for Hogwarts. Ginny couldn't even remember when she got into the habit of getting up early in the mornings for Quidditch but it seemed the Slytherin girls did not forget their love for Quidditch as the year went on, for they teased and prodded Ginny for being slow or lacking in technique, in such a subtle manner that Ginny didn't realise she had been goaded into flying practice with them until she was halfway across the field.

Drousilla it seemed, had fancied herself a leader at Quidditch, with her strong powerful words painting tales about how she was going to win the Slytherin house cup and make it onto the team the moment they were allowed to tryout in second year, and her repeated jabs at all the others. Perhaps to try and make herself seem better by comparison. Ginny didn't know why Drousilla was such a bitch on the Quidditch pitch but she just was, and Ginny found herself Drousilla's new punching bag in the recent weeks.

Drousilla slammed into Ginny, sending her sprawling. Ginny had no broom and the one from the school broomshed was not particularly good at steering. It kept lurching downwards all of a sudden, as if other nervous first years had almost trained it to clamber back to the ground once they realised how high they were getting, but just before it slowed to a decent flight down it would suddenly bob back up again, as if it realised it's flight path was anything less than majestic, and it was so well-versed in this Ginny often found herself coming to eye-level with the others' chest or sometimes stomach, as she fought for control over the broom.

Gripping it tightly in her hands and putting pressure on it in an upwards motion, as well as imagining soaring high above the treetops and directing as much of her magic into it, Ginny was able to get the broom to fly upwards a little more, for a little longer, but she was still craving the rush she got from when Corinthia let her go on her broom at the beginning of their practice sessions and it felt like a duck to water. All the other girls had much better brooms and Ginny felt herself boil up in jealousy at this.

"Haha! Slow!" Drousilla said as all three girls giggled. She rammed into Ginny from behind and Ginny felt the broom shake. Ginny grit her teeth, but she couldn't outfly Drousilla with her broom and she wasn't quite as good at Quidditch or flying as she wanted be, to fully outfly Drousilla or put her in her place.

"Watch it-" Ginny called, lobbing a bludger at her. Drousilla's eyes widened for a split second like she didn't think Ginny would dare, before she ducked and then Ginny found Celinda and Corinthia chucking bludgers at her too. The Quidditch case they had was a deluxe one with multiple bludgers, quaffles and snitches so they often played with more than the usual amount. It was exciting but also kept Ginny on her toes.

Ginny ducked, felt another one coming. A blow hit her at the back of the neck, temporarily knocking the wind out of her. Ginny pressed closer to her broom, taking advantage of it's dipping quality and yearned it to go away from the site of the bludgers. They were too close for her to get enough momentum she could somehow bat it away with the tail of her broom, not that it was completely a good idea considering the questionable quality of the school supplies, and she needed open air to regain her sense of space and outwit the bludgers.

The others took aim at her once more, their shouts and laughter ringing high into the air. She was the target, like she always was in this group of Slytherins, but it was just reality. At least she had friends.

Afterwards Ginny was soaking with sweat and sore but there was nothing but a bitter headache and the searing sun of the morning to comfort her as she walked back with her friends to the common room, knowing she'd crave a shower but have to get it last. The one thing Slytherin dormitories didn't have was separate showers or sinks for each of them. An almost comically cruel thing in her opinion.

Ginny wasn't as good at Quidditch as she wanted to be. They were better than her at it in many ways, and for the first time in her life, Ginny had a real tangible goal to work towards that felt nice - make it on the Quidditch team. She loved flying, was unquestionable good at it for the brooms and lack of training that she had - she felt anger bristling beneath her that she should be denied opportunities because she didn't have the riches the other Slytherin girls did to build up better skills when she suspected she could outfly them if she was born and raised in the same house as them in a heartbeat. She wanted to be on the Slytherin house team, but she also knew Drousilla was eyeing the same spot, and so things were only going to get more intense from now...

Well, Ginny was determined to be successful and ambitious and she was going to no matter what.

It was a wonder why Drousilla even bothered to let Ginny see her fly, but Ginny supposed the Slytherin witches just loved flying so much it didn't occur them to do anything but go for a fly whenever they wanted.

That night she collapsed on her bed sore, but not before she wrote in her diary.

Today wasn't bad even though it was painful. But pleasure comes from pain right? I'm going to be the best, if not second best, flyer in the grade at this point. I've improved heaps from being at Hogwarts. But enough of that, there's one thing that's been on my mind all these weeks - Celinda's curse. How did she get my lips to stay still when I wanted to speak but yet I was able to eat with no problem? Magic is interesting, I've always been enchanted by it but the ones at home are nothing compared to the small inklings of magic I see dripping of the Slytherins here. How does that curse allow me to eat but not to speak? It's been prickling at my mind for some time.

Magic is certainly very interesting. Agreed the diary.

I'm thinking it had something to do with mind magic. Ginny wrote. To know what I wanted and react accordingly. I don't think it was based on my physical movements at all, it just responded to when I wanted to say my thoughts out loud.

Many spells work on the mind. The diary murmured. Even though it had no voice Ginny thought sometimes it sounded murmuring, bemused, light-hearted, irritated, etc.

Must be quite powerful then. Mind magic isn't even in our curriculum until 5th year. I didn't know Celinda was such a good witch. I mean, none of the Slytherins are bad at magic. It's just, she's only 11.

Many ancient wizarding families duel for fun and are well versed in all sorts of curses and hexes. The diary said.

I know. I want to figure out how she did it though, and then do it myself. What a useful skill to have.

Very useful. The diary agreed.

She didn't utter an incantation and I don't think Celinda's that skilled to do wordless magic yet. I believe that's a curse you don't need an incantation for. Sort of, if you're angry enough, or you have that much emotion, it just comes out. A pure emotion-driven sort of curse.

They are some of the best for when you don't know the incantations or technicalities. The diary agreed.

I just need a target to try it out on. Ginny wrote. I would in some of the practice duels I have with the Slytherins - I'm always behind picking up curses and tricks, I'm always the one hit the hardest too and it takes me so long to unravel even the simplest one to them. But I can't because they've already seen Celinda use it on me. They might get angry I'm using their weapon back at them. Since they used it to me first.

Maybe just keep this one up your sleave for when you feel like trying it out one day. You never know what the results will be. Yeah this curse is a little hard to do discretely since it works for several days. The diary coaxed her.

Ginny smiled to herself. The diary was pretty good for dark magic. It seemed to show zero abhorrence or reverence to it and guided her excellently - not feeding her too much information all at once, but never stopping her from achieving what she yearned to know.

Bit by bit, Ginny felt her grasp of dark magic strengthen as the weeks went on. She didn't think of herself as a bad witch, magic was just a tool, and some forms of magic could be powerful, it mattered what one did with it. She had just never saw the reason to cast away powerful magical tools just because they were forceful or powerful. It was even interesting to learn about them. Ginny had not done anything bad with the dark magic she had been learning, even as simple as they were it had still been dark magic, and she wouldn't flash it about unless it suited her needs, but she liked this new faucet of her life. It coloured in the pages of her time when she was bored or listless at Hogwarts and bought joy to an otherwise colourless world.

The Slytherins still saw her as something at the bottom of her shoe. She had stifled friendships with other people in her grade where she never trusted them one minute more than she had on the very first day. She was dreading returning home at the end of the year because it would be the first time she would have to see her family, truly see them, after she was sorted into Slytherin, and whilst she chose to stay for Christmas, she knew the summer holidays would be a more difficult time for her to pass. She'd have to figure out some how way to entertain herself with the stony silence she was sure that was to follow. Oh well, it wasn't like she hadn't had to entertain herself before.

She would have more magic this time around too...


Ginny woke up with a horrible headache and aching body. She felt more tired in this year at Hogwarts than she had all the other years in her life, she chalked it up to Quidditch with the Slytherins and general boarding school, but some days it surprised her just how aware of her own bodily aches and pains she was, and she resented the fact that she had to feel it so much. She assumed everyone felt tired, but she wish she didn't have to be quite so conscious of it.

"There's been another attack! My father shall hear about this!" Draco Malfoy's pompous voice could be heard from the other side of the Slytherin table. Ginny had not liked him, she feared him for his wealth and connections, he was a powerful figure, but likable to few, but nonetheless, she learnt to not get in his way, at all.

"How utterly vulgar," said Corinthia, flexing her hand and nails as she rolled her eyes. "I feel like I'm in a prison complex hearing tales of escaped inmates or something. Rather than...what ought to be a boarding school more lovely than this."

"Yes, Hogwarts has gotten shit ever since Harry Potter came here. He's been attracting all this nonsense and conspiracy to the school!" Celinda said quickly.

Harry Potter was someone hated at the Slytherin table for precisely that - his mere presence disrupted the school year, the school day, and he was not a popular student in Slytherin house's eyes, a house hellbent on claiming glory and attention for themselves.

"It will all be over quickly. I wonder what next year's trouble is going to be," mused Ginny. To her surprise the other Slytherin girls giggled a little and Ginny felt a rush of warmth for getting a laugh out of them for once, and one that wasn't at her expense.

"That's so true. There's always something ridiculous he's pulling to ruin the school year," said Celinda.


How do I get rich? Ginny wrote in her diary one night. I want to get my own broom but I have no money. Don't even think about asking my family - that's impossible. Oh, how does anyone get rich in the wizarding world? My parents don't talk about it much, except that dad gets paid from going to work but whatever it is doesn't feel like much.

Inheritance. Mostly. The diary's words seemed laced with a sort of sardonic sense even Ginny picked up on.

Another blight of the wizarding world? She guessed. Seems like people are just born into wealth.

Mostly how it works. Agreed the diary. The wizarding world is a very small place. Wealth doesn't easily transfer from person to person. All one can do is mostly look on in envy.

Did you ever envy a rich person? Asked Ginny. Although the diary was lacking in memory of itself, every so often it would give a little inch that revealed it was based of a real person, and sometimes Ginny threw it a question out of curiosity. She half liked getting to know someone through the imprint of an old book in this manner and seeing the response like a real person.

Many. The question is which one. The diary said.

Roughly what time period do you remember being alive? I suppose your spell caster could still be alive now. This book is old but not that old. I think you'd be a middle aged person now if you lived. Ginny mused.

1942. About 50 years ago.

How quaint. Almost half a century. That's right, your spell caster would still be alive. What do you think you were like? Ginny wrote. She was curious that day. Perhaps it was because she spent most of it being ignored and bitter so she was more chatty now that she was talking to the one person who would talk back to her.

Dashing. Handsome. Smart. Cocky. You wouldn't even begin to appreciate me if I were ever at my fullest out of this book. The diary wrote back.

Ginny hid a small smile to herself. Despite being nothing more than a magical imprint in a diary it was always self-assured, cocky, arrogant even. It was a subtle thing Ginny picked up the more she wrote to it.

I see. But not rich? This diary's monogrammed so you must've had a brush with money at some point but you don't give of the impression you're wealthy. She mused.

Money never interested me. The diary wrote.

But you said you were jealous of rich people...? Ginny wrote back.

I am. It's unfair. Injustice. But there are other more enchanting things in the world. Doesn't magic ever interest you? Don't you ever want to find out how it works? Truly find out how it works?

I guess. Maybe not as strongly as you do. Well, if you had wealth you must've not done a lot of spending it. What are some other ways to get a new broom besides inheritance? Which is, sadly an option that bypassed me 12 years too late. Ginny joked.

Get on the house Quidditch team. Youngest player being allowed to fly as soon as you're eligible would increase the chances of a present from a teacher by a lot. That is the most surefire way. The diary told her.

Ginny bit her lip. It was going to be even more painful, sore, but completely worth it if she was successful next year. The diary was right, that was her most realistic chances of landing a better broom. She didn't even dare think about asking the others to use their brooms and they all had very strong anti-bulgulary charms as well as 'anti-borrowing charms for pesky brothers and sisters' so it was something she was going to have to acquire herself.

Most of the Slytherin girls returned home for the Christmas holidays. Ginny took that time to fly as much as she wanted, even using some of the better brooms from the broomshed because there were no other students around to compete with her for it. It was like magic and Ginny longed for the day she could own her own.

There was just one thing that was bothering her though...

Whilst Ginny had been remarkably self-centred all year and had not cared for much besides Slytherin girl politics and the mundanities of her life, she did hear gossip flying around about the Chamber of Secrets having been opened 50 years ago, attacks on the students, and a part of her was beginning to get a funny feeling...

She decided to turn to her closest friend so far for anything she had on her mind.

I don't care about the Chamber of Secrets or Harry Potter, but there's been 3 attacks so far and it just feels so hectic! Like there's really a killer out there on the loose trying to get at Harry Potter or something! I just can't believe it's so...out there. I didn't expect I'd witness 3 attempts on his life in one year.

Be glad you aren't him. There was the diary again with it's sick sense of humour.

What is the Chamber of Secrets all about? Hey that was around the time you were alive right? You must know something about it...I've been missing out on all the gossip this year because I've been so self-obsessed. I'm now catching up through you. Ginny wrote.

I did hear a little something about it. The Chamber of Secrets isn't really about a chamber or a secret, but rather an ideology. Have you heard the details of what went on the last time it was opened?

One person died? Moaning Myrtle. I...kind of don't like to talk to her too much. I don't like to think about death or being a ghost or anything all that much. Moaning Myrtle makes me think of the possibility of dying and whether I'd be a ghost or not. I'd like to move on, but it just saddens me to think some people stay forever, trapped as a ghost whilst the rest of the universe moves on eventually. I think that's possibly the Gryffindor in me - yearning for the next great adventure.

Death is horrifying. The strong will to live for as long as possible. What do you know of Moaning Myrtle besides her horrific form as a ghost? The diary asked. Sometimes it felt like a teacher or instructor, coaxing Ginny to come to the right conclusions.

She was picked on and tried to haunt her tormentor but was banished to just remain in Hogwarts and not leave the school. I didn't know ghosts could be magically confined but I suppose even in death they are not so transcendental past all forms of magic. Some forms of magic still touch them. I would never be like her though. I got myself sorted into Slytherin and built my own life when I could've been her - crying in a bathroom. I am not her. Ginny wrote.

When you have moved on from her petty childish squabbles you will realise she was a mudblood. The diary told her.

What does that have to do with anything? I'm not seeing the dots. Ginny wrote.

She was killed because she was a mudblood. The diary corrected her.

A pureblood killed her? Ginny asked.

Not necessarily. Just someone with a hatred of mudbloods and enough of a blood parentage to feel above her. Are mudbloods and purebloods still talked about a lot at Hogwarts these days? The diary asked.

The girls don't. We just all hate each other for different reasons. I'm not quite sure what the Slytherin boys talk about. I suppose yeah, but they also pick on others for different reasons. Wrote Ginny.

It was worse back then you know. The diary said.

What changed? Asked Ginny.

Goodness. Doesn't Hogwarts teach history well? The diary sounded impatient.

Our history teacher's a ghost. Ginny said. I didn't like history lessons that much because it makes me think of death. To see it staring right up at you like that. Oh, don't talk to me about history, it's not my favourite classroom nor subject.

There's been a long feud between mudbloods and purebloods for centuries and centuries. Experiments have been done to explore the differences between them, but none have been able to explain why purebloods were simply so much more successful and powerful in wizarding society for years and years. Even when you think there's no genetic difference they simply do just better. Some people refuse to look at this fact in the face and like to proclaim all people are equal or open up the wizarding world for mudbloods and halfbloods, but others like to appreciate the history and abilities of a full blooded sorceror a little more. The diary wrote.

You're right. Purebloods have always sounded more powerful in the bedtime story's I heard but somehow it doesn't seem polite to point it out. I haven't really been saying it or thinking much about it all this time. But you know, I can't deny the evidence. Ginny mused. I have to sleep now. I'm simply dying to rest. But it's been an interesting talk. So there's a lot more politics behind the Chamber of Secrets and everything than I realised huh?

Everything is about politics. Except politics. Which is about people. The wise sage and the idiot within and the average person's battle to contain it and spread forth the wisest side of themselves. The diary spat. Dry, a little bitter, Ginny had recognised the diary's habitual remarks like a well-worn glove on her hand.

That night she dreamed of castles and history lessons with a life teacher, of centuries and centuries of history spanning far back than her mind could possibly conceive of, of the great adventures mudbloods and purebloods may have had to prove differences. Of questions and curiosities witches and wizards had always had about their power levels all throughout the years. Of perhaps finding out the answer and seeing if there was some physical component to magic where someone simply had more than others, or whether it was all practice and interest that made the difference between a powerful witch or wizard and a bad one.

Christmas was soon over. Ginny would sometimes ramble about her flying sessions to the diary who seemed to have a sound understanding of flying. The diary didn't seem to quite love it, but Ginny guessed whoever it was imprinted on was not terrible at flying for it gave her good tips, explained the aerodynamics of the skies well, as well as a few nasty tricks she could do and soon Ginny found herself actually besting Drousilla at flying.

It was also...when Corinthia had begun talking a sudden interest in her. Because Ginny trusted no one she was able to spot it almost immediately. Corinthia taking to her a bit more, being slightly warmer to her than the other girls in private. Corinthia even offering to carry up her stuff or give her some of her numerous delicacies that got sent by mail every week. Corinthia asking her questions about homework she already knew the answers to.

"Where did you learn such a flying trick last week?" Corinthia asked on a lazy evening in the dormitory.

"Figured it out myself. It shall come in handy for my career in something related to flying," said Ginny. It was not a lie, she did want a career in flying, maybe to work in the Ministry of Magic in a department that oversaw flying rules, or new broomstick invention patents or something like that.

"You can't. That place is so nepotistic. No one's gotten in on talent alone for decades," said Corinthia, casting a raised eye look at Ginny.

"I believe in myself," said Ginny.

"Where does that cockiness come from?" said Corinthia, "you really are so self-assured for such a poor filfthy mudblood-traitor!" she spat.

There it was. The hidden jealousy or feelings Ginny suspected Corinthia always had towards her, slipping out a little.

"Why wouldn't I be? You are one to make judgements about other people before you meet them," Ginny threw her a dirty look.

"It's not that. It's just..." Corinthia bit her lip. She then lifted her fingers from the banister she had been resting them on by her bed, turning to click of her lamp and preparing to sleep.

"Corinthia's jealous," said Celinda suddenly, "always is a jealous bitch. Always will be-"

"Shut. It." Suddenly Corinthia's face flushed bright pink, two spots of angry red, and her eyes took on a glare like every before. Almost becoming sharp and pointy in the nightlight. Ginny felt her stomach twist. She didn't know Corinthia could turn so angry until she did.

"Not this again," said Maybelline, "I hate it when you guys fight. I feel like I'm in a circus."

"Rich bitch Maybelline has never had any reason to hate on anybody before. Oooh, we're so uncouth compared to rich Maybelline-" Celinda sounded angry. Ginny remembered that Maybelline had always given of the impression of being the most wealthy even though she didn't seem to bother talking or flaunting about it sometimes. Celinda, Drousilla and Corinthia just didn't touch her in terms of wealth.

"Shut up. You don't know a thing about me-" said Maybelline. Now she sounded angry. Ginny suddenly felt like there had been a lot of tension building up all year that was beginning to be unleashed.

"Says the girl who's so stuck in her bubble she-" Celinda said but stopped.

"Don't you dare," Maybelline blinked back fast tears. There was hurt in her eyes but she struggled to keep her face still.

"Do you alway fight like this when I'm not around?" said Ginny.

"Yes," said Corinthia, "and it's horrid too."

"You actually have more of a calming effect on everyone than you realise-" begain Drousilla.

"Can you all just shut up? I'm trying to sleep," Corinthia glared at the others from her spot on the bed. She was tucked underneath the covers, fully dressed in her pajamas and looked like she could kill someone right there and then.

"I have felt nothing but irritation throughout all of this. I am not missing nor gaining from these petty squabbles," Ginny let loose her misery. It was true - most of the time - she didn't feel benefitted by whatever the Slytherin girls did that was going on.

"Right. Everybody shut up or I'll shut you up for you," said Celinda all of a sudden. Then the lights flickered out. Celinda hadn't used her wand. Ginny was once struck again by how effortlessly powerful they all seemed to her.

She also, got more bad feelings about Corinthia, Maybelline...all of them really.