Ginevra Molly Weasley was sitting on her bed at The Burrow. She had halfheartedly pulled her hair into a sloppy ponytail, slipped on a nightgown, and crawled under her covers, hiding from the cruel world above. She had just gotten home from Hogwarts the previous evening and hadn’t been out of her room since. Her mother had protested, but she had complained of headaches. Ha! More like, heartache.

Pidwidgeon flew like mad across her bedroom, leaving a mess of droppings on her light blue carpet. He smashed into her bookshelf, and all of her photos fell to the floor in a heap. The ghoul in the attic shrieked like a maniac, as usual. Fred and George were busy causing explosions in their room. She threw up her hands in frustration, thinking that this was definitely not one of her better days.

Ginny was certainly not enjoying her break. She knew that she should be relieved that her OWL year was finally over, but things just weren’t right. She was feeling absolutely dreadful, like she'd been to hell and back. She couldn’t stop thinking about Harry, and she was supposed to be in charge of her own mind! Harry had a knack for invading her thoughts and she was furious about it. He had absolutely no right to just barge into her mind, especially while she was heartbroken over him. Harry had been lucky that he hadn’t seen her; the Weasley temper would have been unleashed.

So what if he was the Boy-Who-Lived! To her, Harry Potter was simply Harry, her boyfriend. How could he think that she was so weak? She was not a bloody child!! Voldemort wanted to kill her whole family since he believed them, and everyone else in the Order, to be blood traitors. Being with Harry wouldn’t put her in any more danger than she was already in!

She heard a quiet but definite gurgling sound, and realized that she was starving. Ginny sighed and got up. She pulled on some joggers and slowly walked downstairs thinking about the way that Harry had left things. She would not let it end that way, but what was she to do? How could she get Harry to see that she truly felt for him, and Voldemort just did not matter?

She slumped into a soft, cozy chair at the kitchen table, and absentmindedly picked up a piece of chocolate from the candy bowl. They were those special milk chocolate hearts that had quotes and sayings on the wrapper. When she was younger, Ginny believed that they really meant something. Now, of course, she knew that chocolates could not give you advice...of course they could not!

She cast her swollen eyes downward, and half-heartedly opened the candy. It said:

”The one you love may not be gone for good.”

Her heart skipped a beat. Could this be about Harry? Of course he was not gone for good, but was he really gone in a romantic way? She quickly pushed that thought out of her head. She was already heartbroken enough; and didn't dare risk to endure the wretched pain of breakup again.br />
Ginny shook her head furiously, muttering to herself, “No, this bowl of chocolates is definitely not trying to help me with my love life!” She felt like she was about to burst into tears any moment now. Everything was going wrong, why should she even bother to hope? This was just a silly bowl of chocolates!

Ginny didn't know if she had the strength to be let down like this again. Sure, she was in Gryffindor, but did she really belong there? She was beginning to doubt herself. Gryffindors were supposed to be brave, and she definitely did not feel courageous right now.

Ginny wasn't one to bottle up her emotions, but it seemed like all of her inner feelings were locked up inside of her. They were too private to be released from that secret corner of her heart; that secret corner that was normally reserved for love. Love.

Ginny looked down glumly, and occupied herself by half heartedly following patterns in the old oak wood table. As she followed one particular crack, her finger stopped at the base of the bowl again. Looking down on it, she felt a strange craving for chocolate. She noticed her arm stretching out to pick up another piece. Chocolate was always good for comfort food.

She felt herself rapidly opening up the chocolate, and read the message on the crinkled foil:

“Be serious. You know things are not over!”

Harry, oh Harry! He meant so much to her; she wished he could see it! She was thankful that she was no longer just Ron’s little sister, but she wanted more than that. What Ginny wanted was to have Harry all to herself - forever. It seemed like that was how things should be.

How was it possible for this to happen? Was this candy really telling her that she and Harry could still have a future together? Her heart leaped at the thought. She shook her head, and once again denied it. This couldn’t happen; she wouldn’t let her dreams be crushed again. No! Not again. It must have been a spell, of course. Perhaps Fred and George bewitched them to give advice. If it was an item from their joke shop, should she really follow its advice anyway?

Ginny timidly chose another heart from the bowl, awed by its power. She knew things like this couldn’t happen - or at least she had thought they couldn’t. Maybe, just maybe, a simple thing like chocolate could help her. It was time to take on reality. It would be hard, but Ginny was not going to give up right away. Harry was worth more than that.

She uncovered the chocolate, and peeked at the wrinkled foil.

”Now’s your chance!”

Ginevra Molly Weasley smiled. Maybe it was not too late after all. There was somehow a glimmer of hope, shining brightly enough for Ginny to see it. There was a slight twinkle in those formerly sad eyes, and a determined look on her face. She excitedly ran to her room, and owled her father at work about how to use a fellytone.
***


"Fred, George!" Ginny called two days later.

"Yes?" George replied.

"Our dear, dear sister," Fred added.

"We humbly offer you our services, what ever it is you may need," George finished.

"I just need to ask you one thing," she said. She was beginning to feel a little anxious as to what their answer may be to this question she had been wanting to ask. "You know that bowl of chocolates, in the kitchen..."

"Oh yes, that is one of our finest inventions," Fred began.

"It is bewitched to pull in passerbys," George chuckled.

"Usually someone who could use some advice," continued Fred.

"But they all say the same thing, anyway." George smirked.

"They all say," Fred said.

"You don't have a chance, get over it!" The twins exclaimed together, roaring with laughter.

Ginny was astonished. Was it the same bowl of chocolates they were talking about?

Maybe it was the courage within her that helped her see what she needed to do. Perhaps she knew what to do the whole time, but the chocolates spelled it out in black in white. She needed to see it written down to believe it.

Her question was still left unanswered, though. The chocolates didn't all say, "You don't have a chance, get over it!" Ginny finally reached a conclusion: It must have been the magic between Harry and herself. She blushed at the thought, but couldn't help wondering if that could possibly be true.