I do not own Ginny, Tom Riddle, Neville Longbottom or Michael Corner.

Authors Note:

No clue where this came from. Heh, and don't particularly care. Took me about half an hour to write… maybe. Who cares.


By Lady Coia


"I'm not doing anything."

"Yes, yes you are, Tom. I'm not as stupid as you might think I am. Now just quit…"

"I'm not doing anything."

Out loud, Ginny let out a frustrated scream, before slamming the book closed. She may have only been 11, but she wasn't stupid. Ok, maybe she was a little, she thought. She had been stupid to ever trust the book. She had been stupid to keep writing in it, even when she started suspecting something was right.

It was like an addiction. She couldn't stop. She wanted to keep writing, and keep having him reply. She wanted the book… And she wanted it so bad, she kept writing. And writing, even when she knew something was wrong.

And like most addictions, it hurt the people around her. People were getting petrified, and she was almost absolutely sure she had something to do with it. People were panicking…

"The last time, a girl died," people would whisper the rumor.

No one knew if it was true. Sure, they thought it was, but who could know? None of them had been their fifty years ago. No one even knew if the Chamber of Secrets existed…

They just thought.

And like most addictions, it was tearing Ginny up inside. She wanted to let it go, so bad. She wanted to quit like nothing in the world. But she couldn't. Technically, yes, she could. But she was addicted… caught up in this fantasy world she had created with the diary.

She also couldn't go for help. She tried. She really did. But she kept turning around at the last minute.

Ginny stood up, knocking the chair over in the process. She grabbed the book. She would get rid of this addiction. She would get rid of it all together.

Going as fast as she could, trying not to attract attention, she hurried towards nowhere. She didn't know where she was going. It was like she was in a daze. Her feet guided her, until her arm flung the book to wherever. Then she left, still in a hurry. And barely knew what was happening around her.

She had gotten rid of the addiction… at least that is what she thought.


Ginny tried to decide what she should do that Christmas holidays.  The Yule Ball was coming up, but she was just a year below, and couldn't go on her own. She had to be invited, and she didn't think anyone would do that.

She heard someone come pounding up the stairs, giggling, "I can't believe he asked me!" she heard a girl say. "I can't wait for the ball now!"

That was what almost every girl was talking about. The dance. Those who couldn't go still talked about it, wondering what it would be like if they could go. Ginny didn't bother wondering. Why wonder about something that most likely wouldn't happen? Wondering about it wouldn't make it come true.

The door banged open, and some other girls in her room walked in, talking about something or another. Boys, most likely. They were obsessed.

Ginny sighed, and stood up. She didn't exactly want to be around their talking and giggling, not really being a part in it at all. She walked down the stairs, and out the portrait hole, only to walk straight into someone.

"Oh! I'm sorry!" Ginny said, moving away slightly, after catching her balance.

"No, it was probably my fault," the person answered. She looked up to find herself almost face to face with Neville Longbottom.

"Umm…" was all she said, not sure how to answer to that.

"I was kind of looking for you anyway," Neville said quietly.

"You were?" she replied, curious as to why he could be looking for her.

"I was wondering…"

Then he said something really fast, that she barely caught.

"You want to go to the dance with me?" she repeated.

"Um, ya."

"Well… alright, then, sure."

"Really?" he looked really truly happy, like he hadn't expected her to say yes.

"Really," she smiled at him slightly. Why not? It was her only way that she could go.


Ginny sat quietly, waiting for Michael to show up. She had decided the previous night that she was going to end it. It wasn't working out, and she could tell from the start it was never meant to be, but more of a… well, as much as she hated to say it, it was more of a convenience.

She was outside, near the edge of the forest, watching the water of the lake ripple when he snuck up behind her.

"Hey," she said quietly, giving him a small smile.

"Hi," he sat down beside her, looking slightly nervous.

"What's the matter?" she asked, looking at him.

"Oh, um, nothing, really…"

"I don't believe you," she said, looking back towards the lake.

"Alright then, that's because you're right. Something is wrong. Well, not really wrong, just not right. Nothing's wrong with me, or anyone else close to me for that matter. So then nothing is really wrong… just, not right."

She raised an eyebrow, turning back to him, "Oh yes, that made a lot of sense."

"Look, you're not making this easy."

"Making what easy?"

"Look, this isn't really working out. I think we should just be… friends."

She froze for a moment. That was supposed to be her line. Ok, maybe not exactly, but she wasn't supposed to be the dumpee, but the dumper.

Then she laughed.

"What? That's not funny!" Michael said, looking at her oddly.

"No, it is. Really, I was about to say almost the exact same thing tonight. Except you got to it first by distracting me with making me think something was wrong."

He stared at her, "Really? So you agree with me then?"

"Yes, I do," she smiled.


"Come on! Hurry up!" Ginny said, grabbing his hand and pulling him up the hill, to the top. "Now, look this way, and just watch."

"Just watch?" he asked.

"Yes, just watch," she said, smiling. "It's a sunset, that's what you do. And you can see it perfectly up here. Just watch."

He nodded, pulled her closer, and they watched the sun set together. Then darkness came, and she smiled to herself.

This is what love was. This is what it was meant to be. Perfect contentment.

'A deep, tender, ineffable feeling of affection and solicitude toward a person, such as that arising from kinship, recognition of attractive qualities, or a sense of underlying oneness.'

That is how the dictionary defined it… but really, it was hard to define love. You can't define anger, or hurt, or jealousy. You can't define an emotion, because each emotion might be different to each person…

And trying to define love might ruin the experience itself. If you knew exactly what it was, it wouldn't be an adventure… you couldn't travel it's paths, and be both afraid and excited about what as to come, because you would know it.

It would be like knowing the future…

And to Ginny, life was an adventure. And she didn't want to ruin it by defining words, and trying to figure out her future. She wanted to experience it without knowing what was to come…

Good or bad, this was love. And she didn't know what she would do without it.

The things with Michael, Dean… all those other boys. That wasn't love. This was.

And, if she really did have to define love, she would say it was like a sunset… The closing of something, bright, peaceful… something that was great to watch, magnificent… an adventure. And it's hard to go life without once experiencing a sunset.

She smiled, and moved in closer to him.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" he asked quietly, kissing the top of her head. "I love you."

"And I love you too…" she said quietly, just loud enough for him to hear it.

He kissed the top of her head once more, before they both looked back towards the clear sky, and looked into infinity. Never ending… love was also like the sky, in that way.