Ginny Weasley and the Heir of Slytherin

Guilt and Innocence

If there was an emotion which felt worse than guilt, Ginny had never experienced it. In that moment, she really, really just hated herself. If she were another person, she would have punched herself in the face, kicked herself in the shins, pulled her hair, and beat herself to within an inch of her sorry life. Instead she just stood there, shaking and thinking that she hardly deserved to live.

Ginny might have run to avoid getting caught there if she had found herself in this situation months ago, but now she just didn't care anymore. Besides, she was poor innocent Ginny Weasley — no one would suspect her even if she were found at the scene of the crime. She collapsed to the floor right next to the bodies and let herself cry and cry. She didn't care about her dignity anymore. She didn't deserve dignity — in fact, she didn't deserve anything other than to be kicked and punched and hurt as much as possible. She was the lowest creature on the face of the earth!

Ginny had never thought her life could come to this. She thought back to that flying accident she had had at the age of six and how she had gone back to try flying again even though she knew she could get hurt again. She had been so brave and so innocent back then! She hadn't attacked anyone or daubed any threatening messages in blood. And Ginny was now sure that it was blood which that horrible message had been written in. What a silly little girl she had been all those months ago when she had convinced herself that it was red paint which she had tried desperately to wash off her hands and clothes! And as that blood had permanently stained her clothes so had it stained her soul. She could never be an innocent little girl again after her clothes were so stained with blood!

It was a bitter irony that Ginny had spent her entire life longing desperately to be older, for it would only be when she was older that she would be allowed to do anything, and right now she wanted nothing more than to be very, very little again — like maybe five years old or so. Everything was easy when you were five. If anything went wrong when you were five, you could simply go to your mum and dad and expect that they would fix everything. If you ever felt sorry for anything, you knew it would go away after you told your parents. In fact, you never had to think about anything. Five was even before she had begun her secret broomstick practice, so she hadn't even had to think about that.

Ginny remained there for what seemed like a long time and the events which followed became a blur soon afterwards; Professors McGonagall and Flitwick finding her there crying; Ginny telling them an easy lie that she had come across the scene by chance; finding out that the bodies were thankfully — so thankfully — only Petrified before she was sent up to Gryffindor Tower; the rest of the students filtering in soon after she got there to hear McGonagall announce stricter rules for their own safety — all Quidditch games canceled until further notice and no longer going anywhere in the castle unaccompanied by a teacher. The end of McGonagall's speech, however, would stand out firmly and painfully in Ginny's mind.

"I need hardly add that I have rarely been so distressed," she had said. "It is likely that the school will be closed unless the culprit behind these attacks is caught. I would urge anyone who thinks they might know anything about them to come forward."

Ginny almost felt like McGonagall was addressing her directly, telling her that she couldn't hide anymore and might as well surrender herself. Destroying the diary would no longer stop this — this wouldn't end until a culprit was caught and properly punished. And she was the culprit. No one else could be caught because there was no one else. It would have to be her. Or the school closed. Ginny thought of all the children, who, like her, couldn't wait to go to Hogwarts and would now never get their chance. All thanks to her.

Ginny staggered up to her empty dormitory. She looked around for something to hit herself with. Her mother didn't like it when Ginny hit herself with anything, even if it was something which wouldn't really hurt her, but right now she didn't care. She noticed Tom Riddle's diary was still lying open on her bed. How come she sometimes ended up having the diary with her when she lost her memory, but other times she didn't? Did it mean Riddle was stronger? Had his powers drained at all in the time she hadn't written to him?