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Disclaimer:  The wonderful world of Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, a goddess among us mortals.

As always, big thanks to Zsenya for beta-reading

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As Ginny slunk out of the portrait hole, she fought back hot tears of pain.

“Right, this is getting stupid.  Ginny, you can just go with Harry…”

But do I really want to, if I’m just a reserve?  Ron, did you even think about my feelings when you said that?

Her eyes burned with unshed tears.  She scowled at a group of nervous first-year students on their way to dinner, and she suddenly realized that she didn’t want or need food.  She craved nourishment of a different kind.  She wanted to write to her mother, to spill out all of the troubles of her thirteen-year old heart and to have her mother tell her that everything would be just fine.  Quickly, she rounded back to the Gryffindor common room.  After a quick glimpse inside to confirm that her brother and Harry were gone, she stole up to her room, grabbed a piece of parchment and her favorite white quill, pulled the hangings about her bed and began to write.

Dear Mum,

When did you realize how you felt about Dad?  Did it hit you suddenly, or did it build up over a span of years?  Did you date other boys before him?  I’m just curious.  I really like Harry, as more than just a silly crush.  I would give anything to have him see me, but I don’t think that will happen.  Please write back soon.

Your loving daughter,

Ginny

P.S.-I just got asked to the Yule Ball.  I’m going with Neville Longbottom, just as a friend.  Ron teased me of course.  He’s really being a bit of an idiot about the whole thing, especially since he doesn’t have a partner yet.

There.  Now, time to sneak to the owlery and get Pig to deliver it.

As she made her way up to the tower that held the owls, she found herself lost in thought.  Why didn’t Harry like her?  It wasn’t as though she was ugly.  People often complimented her on her silky red hair and bright brown eyes.  She wasn’t the top student in her year, but she was smart and made high enough marks.  No, there was nothing outstanding about her.  She was just sweet, quiet, cute little Ginny Weasley.  The youngest Weasley.  The latest in a long line of Weasleys.  The only girl, so of course she stood out, she didn’t give the teachers any trouble like her brothers did.  No, she was a sweet, good, girl who rarely put a toe out of line.  And tonight had confirmed her deepest fear-that she was utterly invisible.

As she climbed the stone steps into the owlery, she noticed how clear a night it was.  There was not a single cloud in the sky, and the stars were beginning to shine in a blanket of the deepest blue.  If I weren’t so upset, I could appreciate this.  Looking around for Pig, she spotted Hedwig, Harry’s beautiful snowy owl.  Hedwig looked at her letter, then gave Ginny a puzzled look.  Hooting softly, she flew down to meet Ginny, who obliged by stroking her pure white feathers.

“Well, what do you think?  Should I send this to my mum, or deal with this on my own?”

Hedwig looked at the letter for a few seconds.  It was as if she could see what the letter contained, and somehow sensed that it related to her master.  She gave the letter a severe look, then faced Ginny with a stern look and hooted.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought also.  Time for me to grow up.”

Her task done, Hedwig flew back up to her perch.  Ginny walked to the window, tearing the letter into fine pieces as she did so.  Once she reached the window, she let the letter fall to the lake below and watched as it settled on the surface like fine, white snow.  After the paper sank into the depths below, Ginny turned away from the window and began her long walk back to Gryffindor tower, feeling much older than when she last left it.

As she sank into her four-poster bed, Ginny finally felt that there was more to her than just being the sweet redheaded girl who was always ready with a placid smile.  She was growing up.