Ginny's first week at Hogwarts was unexpectedly rewarding, a blend of academic successes and newfound social ease, possible because of Tom's steady support. She felt a quiet confidence growing within her, almost as if she were stepping into a new version of herself.
In Potions, however, she still found herself on edge. Professor Snape's silent, hovering presence was nerve-wracking. Each time he passed her cauldron, she could feel him watching, as if he were waiting for her to slip up. The tension built, her hands growing slightly unsteady as she added ingredients - until Tom's voice slipped into her mind.
"Relax, Ginny," he murmured, calm and reassuring. "Now, add just a touch more powdered bicorn horn... and stir counterclockwise. I'll guide you."
It was as if her hands were moving by themselves. Ginny felt herself relax, allowing Tom's influence to steady her hand. When Snape later stopped at her cauldron again and fired a particularly tricky question her way, Tom had the answer ready in her thoughts before she even had time to panic. She recited it with what she hoped looked like calm confidence. For once, Snape didn't have any criticisms, though he did raise an eyebrow as he moved on. Ginny let out a relieved breath, grateful for Tom's quiet, stabilizing presence.
Transfiguration was equally intense, though it was mostly theory-heavy during the first week. Professor McGonagall introduced the class to the fundamentals of Transfiguration Circles, focusing on the Transfiguration Alphabet, a series of runes used in the circles to support complex spells. Ginny felt almost as though she'd been prepped for this. Tom had spent time explaining the basics of these circles to her the night before, so she was able to follow along with ease. When Professor McGonagall asked the class about the significance of the alphabet, Ginny raised her hand and, with Tom's guidance, explained how the runes anchored the magical energy in the circle. Professor McGonagall nodded in approval and Ginny felt a small spark of pride.
In Herbology, they began hands-on work with plants that were both powerful and delicate. Professor Sprout had paired them up to work with dittany and aconite, explaining the healing properties of dittany and the volatile nature of aconite. Ginny enjoyed the task, feeling a mix of curiosity and respect for the plants she handled, especially with Tom offering advice on technique. When she carefully trimmed a dittany leaf and set it aside just as Professor Sprout had instructed, she felt a genuine sense of accomplishment. Tom's voice in her thoughts made a quiet comment on her precision, which made her smile.
Outside of academics, Ginny felt her social life blooming in unexpected ways. Colin Creevey was particularly enthusiastic, often striking up a conversation with her between classes. One afternoon on the way to Herbology, he jogged up to her with his camera, eyes bright with excitement.
"Ginny! Can I take a picture of you? I want to make photos of all my close friends!" he exclaimed, holding the camera up expectantly.
"Oh well… ok, Colin," Ginny replied, feeling glad he considered her a close friend.
Evenings in the common room became a cherished part of her day, as she grew closer to her roommates. One night, as they lounged by the fire after dinner, Emily turned to Ginny, who had just helped her with the Transfiguration homework, her eyes sparkling. "You're really something, Ginny. I mean, you're basically amazing at Transfiguration."
Ginny smiled, recalling Tom's advice - always return praise with praise. "Thanks, Emily. You're amazing, too. I think you're a natural in Potions."
Emily grinned and puffed up playfully. "Yeah, I'm pretty awesome, aren't I?" Her tone was so over-the-top that they all burst into laughter.
Ginny was grateful for these light-hearted moments, though sometimes her roommates' quirks left her puzzled. Daisy, for example, was suddenly very taken with Gilderoy Lockhart, finding ways to bring him up during their conversations with an almost starry-eyed excitement. Ginny found it strange, given how little Lockhart seemed to teach in Defence Against the Dark Arts, but she kept her thoughts to herself, not wanting to start a conflict. She reminded herself to be patient - another piece of advice from Tom that she was trying to put into practice.
Though History of Magic and Defence Against the Dark Arts were hardly thrilling, Ginny managed to make it through her week feeling fulfilled. In the less engaging classes, her mind would wander to Tom, who filled the dull moments with reminders of her strengths and hints for their future studies. His voice, always calm and steady, was like an anchor she could return to in every moment of doubt.
But one History of Magic class, they shared with Ravenclaw, was worth mentioning. In previous lessons, Ginny had noticed Luna sitting alone, often in her own world, talking softly to herself or gazing somewhere far beyond the dusty classroom. Ginny had ignored her for the most part, sitting with her roommates Mira, Emily, and Daisy, who seemed equally amused and bewildered by Luna's peculiar quirks. But today, as Ginny stepped into the classroom, a slight dizziness crept over her, fogging her mind and making her feel strangely distant from her surroundings.
Almost without realizing it, Ginny found herself approaching Luna's usual seat at the back, where she sat alone as always. Luna looked up, her usual dreamy expression replaced by a faint glimmer of surprise.
"Luna," Ginny said, her own voice sounding unfamiliar to her. "Do you want to sit with me?"
Luna's wide eyes lit up with unexpected joy. "Oh, yes! There are far fewer Wrackspurts around you today, Ginny."
Ginny blinked in confusion as a soft giggle came from her roommates, particularly Mira, who found Luna's eccentricity endlessly amusing. But as Ginny opened her mouth to reply, she felt a wave of dizziness intensify, as if the room was tilting ever so slightly. She found herself asking: "Did anything change?"
Luna tilted her head thoughtfully, her large blue eyes studying Ginny with something like awe. "Yes, even fewer Wrackspurts now. Fascinating, isn't it?"
"Interesting," Ginny murmured, though a flicker of confusion ran through her. Why had she said that?
The dizziness lifted, and Luna frowned, seemingly disappointed. "Oh, no, they're back."
Ginny gave an awkward smile, willing herself to shake off the strange sensations. She glanced back at her roommates, feeling slightly embarrassed but determined not to let that show. "Um, this is Luna Lovegood," she introduced, trying to keep her voice steady, "she's… an old friend from Ottery St Catchpole."
Mira raised an eyebrow but gave Luna a polite nod, though her lips twitched with amusement. Daisy, always kind, offered a tentative smile. Emily grinned and waved cheerfully at Luna, though she looked slightly taken aback by Luna's remark about Wrackspurts.
For the rest of the class, Ginny sat beside Luna, who chattered on about Crumple-Horned Snorkacks and Moon Frogs. Ginny nodded along, trying to appear interested, though her cheeks burned at the bemused looks Mira and the others occasionally cast in her direction. She wasn't quite sure why she felt compelled to go along with it, but Tom's voice echoed faintly in her thoughts, steady and reassuring.
The following weeks drifted by, with Ginny feeling oddly detached from herself at times. She often noticed a fog settling over her mind, especially in the evenings. Sometimes, just before sleep, she felt dizzy, as though her thoughts were swirling away from her control. Yet, each time the discomfort flared, Tom's voice would settle it, soothing her with gentle reassurances.
He'd murmur, "It's all normal, Ginny. Adjusting to a new school is a lot. You're simply tired." His words brought a calming certainty, and she'd fall asleep listening to his soothing explanations.
The tiredness, however, seemed to follow her even into her waking hours. She'd sit down for a meal or a study session and suddenly, hours would seem to slip by. Her friends would ask her where she'd been and Ginny would blink, trying to recall if she'd dozed off somewhere.
"Are you sure you're getting enough sleep?" Daisy asked one evening, looking worried.
Ginny's stomach tightened each time someone asked her that question, but she brushed it off, repeating Tom's words back to them with forced lightness.
"I probably just need more time to get used to things. The schedule here is so different to home." She wondered if they could tell she was reciting, but the words comforted her, enough to smooth over her doubts.
Then there were the times when she couldn't explain where she'd been or what she'd been doing.
"Where'd you go, Ginny? I didn't see you after Transfiguration," Emily asked one afternoon, looking at her with mild confusion. Ginny blinked, unable to answer. She'd left class with the others, hadn't she? She would glance around for Tom's quiet guidance, feeling a little more settled when he'd answer, "You must have taken a nap again. Just relax, Ginny. Once you adjust to life here, you won't feel this tired."
A few days later, Ginny sat with Mira in the Gryffindor common room, attempting to work through her homework. She had been feeling more tired than usual, even though she was getting enough sleep. But tonight, her focus kept drifting to the neighbouring table, where Fred and George were hunched over a bubbling little swamp they'd somehow conjured up.
The swamp was mesmerizing. Murky water swirled and gurgled, and every so often, a blob of green muck would pop out, splattering onto the table. Fred waved his wand over it, casting "Reparifarge!" - but the spell had no effect. The swamp rippled, undisturbed, its strange bubbling continuing without interruption. George followed with "Finite Incantatem!" and still, the swamp stayed as it was.
"Brilliant," George said, a grin spreading across his face as he nudged Fred. They seemed delighted by their creation's resilience to the counter-charms.
Ginny watched out of the corner of her eye, trying to keep her curiosity in check. She knew better than to show too much interest in their inventions - any sign of enthusiasm could mean she'd find herself roped in as an unwitting accomplice or, worse, a test subject. But Tom's voice was insistent in her mind. "Go on, Ginny. Ask them how they did it. You're clever enough to understand - don't let them hold out on you."
"But it's Fred and George…" she thought, hesitating. She didn't want to end up involved in another one of their pranks. But Tom's urging continued, his voice pressing at the back of her mind, his curiosity merging with her own reluctance until she finally found herself standing and crossing over to them.
"Er… what did you do to make it resist Reparifarge and Finite Incantatem?" she asked, trying to keep her tone casual.
The twins exchanged a look, amusement flickering in their eyes as they sized her up. "Curious, are we?" Fred asked, smirking.
"Just… interested," Ginny replied, trying not to sound too eager. "I recognized the spells you used. And I know they should've worked. But they didn't."
Fred and George glanced at each other, seeming pleased with her observation.
"Good eye, Ginny!" George said. "We've managed to make this particular swamp immune to counter-spells. Not an enchantment - just a little technique we've developed."
"But it's a secret technique," Fred added, with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Not one we're exactly sharing."
Ginny withdrew, feeling relieved but slightly unnerved. She had just done something she normally wouldn't - practically volunteering herself to be included in her brothers' latest prank - and hadn't even realized it until afterward. It was as if Tom's interests were slowly weaving into her own, blurring the line between what she wanted and what he suggested.
In class, things continued to go well on the academic front. But even with her achievements in class, the gaps in her memory continued to grow. There were times when she would be praised for her work and barely remember completing it and she often found herself pulling away from her friends, too exhausted to keep up with their conversations. She caught herself wondering, 'where did that hour go?' or 'did I fall asleep?'.
Yet every doubt was answered by Tom's soothing assurances, leaving her oddly at ease each time. As long as he was there, she felt as though she could manage anything - even the disorienting lapses that punctuated her days.
October had brought with it a crisp chill in the air and a busier rhythm to each day. Ginny barely felt the time passing. Every day seemed to blend into the next, each one marked by moments she couldn't quite recall. She would sometimes find herself returning to the common room, unsure where she had been or how much time had passed. More than once, she noticed her friends looking at her with puzzled expressions, though she quickly tried to laugh off their concern. But the unease lingered, especially as the gaps in her memory grew more frequent.
One evening, as she sat in the common room, Daisy approached her with a hesitant smile. "Ginny, can I… ask you something?"
Ginny blinked, feeling the weight of exhaustion pressing on her as she looked up. "Of course. What's up?"
Daisy fidgeted, twisting her fingers nervously. "It's just… well, I've noticed you're not around as much anymore. Emily and I were just wondering… we thought you were studying alone, maybe? But, well, we don't want you to overwork yourself. You seem tired..."
A flicker of irritation rose within Ginny, surprising her with its intensity. "She's prying. Don't let her make you doubt yourself." Tom's voice was there, quiet and firm, at the edge of her mind and Ginny could almost feel him brushing off Daisy's concerns.
"Oh, don't worry about me," Ginny said, managing a dismissive smile. "It's nothing, really. I've just been… busy."
Daisy looked unconvinced, but her shy smile returned. "Well, if you need anything, we're here, okay?" She glanced around and then added, "We just… don't want you to feel like you have to do everything on your own."
Ginny's shoulders tensed. "I'm fine, Daisy, really," she said a little too quickly. Daisy's earnest look felt grating and Ginny suddenly wanted to escape the conversation altogether. Daisy simply nodded, backing off with a small smile, though her eyes remained watchful.
Later, as Ginny worked on her homework, she struggled to shake off a nagging sensation, though she wasn't quite sure if it was guilt or annoyance. Tom's voice whispered through her thoughts, calming her irritation. "They don't understand what you're capable of. Keep pushing forward - you don't have to explain yourself to anyone." She leaned back, sighing in quiet relief as Tom's reassurances settled her fraying nerves.
As the days wore on, Ginny's focus on academics continued to go well, but she felt a distance forming between her and her friends. Her time spent with them grew shorter and she wasn't always sure why. She'd find herself drifting away from conversations without realizing it, as if her attention was being drawn elsewhere. But Tom was there, a steady voice in her mind, soothing her worries when her memories blurred or when she found herself losing time. He assured her she was handling things perfectly, that her dedication would pay off, and she clung to his words like a lifeline.
Yet not everyone was as forgiving of her sudden absences.
One evening, Ginny lingered near the common room entrance, planning to join Mira, Emily and Daisy. She felt the familiar pull of loneliness tugging at her, hoping that a little time with her roommates might lift her spirits. But as she approached, she overheard voices, sharp and unmistakably directed toward her.
"…think she's too good for us now?" Mira's voice was laced with sarcasm, making Ginny freeze in her tracks just outside their view.
"Oh, come on, Mira," Emily said, but there was a slight hesitation in her voice.
"She's never around anymore," Mira continued, undeterred. "It's like we're just an afterthought for her, if even that."
Ginny's heart pounded, feeling the sting of Mira's words cut through her. Her cheeks flushed as she pressed back against the wall, hoping she was hidden from their view. She peeked around the corner, catching Daisy's uneasy glance.
"Maybe she's just busy with her studies…" Daisy said softly, her usual shyness evident. But she sounded unsure and Ginny's chest tightened.
Mira scoffed. "Busy with her studies or busy running around with other people? She only joins us when it's convenient. It's like we're her fallback plan."
Ginny bit her lip, willing herself not to make a sound. She could barely breathe, the humiliation mingling with the confusion that had been clouding her mind all day. Unable to stand hearing more, she turned and bolted up the staircase, her footsteps muffled as she ran, tears blurring her vision.
When she reached the dormitory, Ginny flung herself onto her bed, drawing the thick curtains around her to shut out the world. She buried her face in her hands, the quiet of the room broken only by her muffled sobs. Her heart felt heavy, aching from the sting of her friends' words, the feeling of isolation overwhelming her.
In the dimness, she fumbled for her diary, clutching it tightly as though it alone could ease her pain. "Tom," she whispered, her voice choked with hurt. "Are you there?"
Instantly, his voice responded in her mind, calm and reassuring. "I'm here, Ginny. Always."
The ache in her heart softened as his words settled over her. She took a shaky breath, letting the comfort of his presence fill the empty spaces left by her friends' harsh words.
"They don't understand me," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper. "They think… they think I don't care."
"Then they aren't worth your energy," Tom replied, his voice a steady balm in her mind. "You have more important things to focus on. I'm here, Ginny. You don't need anyone else."
She hugged the diary closer, the weight of her sorrow lifting slightly as Tom's words soothed her. With him there, her loneliness faded, replaced by a warmth that filled the hollow ache in her chest. As long as she had Tom, she reminded herself, she would be alright.