Note to all: I decided to write a chapter that was from Neville's point of view. So, this is not "The Life of the Littlest Weasley." Today it's "The Life of One Who Loves the Littlest Weasley." Enjoy!
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I didn’t know what to do, so I just left her with Colin. I didn't know what to do about this whole situation, or rather, my situation. I really like her, but what could I do? Especially since she's dating Colin. Maybe I could ask someone for help… but who? Maybe Dean… he went out with her for a while, and maybe he can help me, I dunno, plan something special… maybe not. Oh, I'm never going to get anywhere with that attitude. I must be brave for Ginny.
So, I went searching for Dean. I looked in the common room, but he wasn't there. I looked in the Owlry (which was a silly thing to do since his parents are muggles, and I don't think they are aquatinted with owl post), and the boy's bathroom, but I couldn't find him. I even looked in the library, but the only person there was Hermione…
And then it hit me. I should just ask Hermione! She's really smart, and knows all of that sort of girly stuff. I ran back to the library with vigor. But, when I finally got there, she had already left. I thought that she might have just been looking for a book somewhere, but I looked all over the place, and she wasn't behind any of the shelves. I looked back at where she had been sitting and all her stuff and gone too. I was about to leave when something caught my eye. It was a bit of folded parchment. It looked rather old, because it was really crinkled, as if it had been folded and unfolded a dozen times. Now, I'm not the nosey type, so I figured that I could bring it to Hermione.
However, while I was walking back to the common room to look for her there, a thought occurred to me. What if it didn't belong to Hermione after all and was just a silly bit of parchment and I was wasting my time? After consideration of this, I decided to take a quick peak at it. I unfolded the parchment very carefully, and this was what it said:
Hermione,
I think about you every day. I'm not really sure how to begin. Everything about you makes me feel something, I dunno, really good inside, but I'm not sure how to tell you. I joke around because I want to make you smile. Seeing that smile is…
I stopped reading abruptly, because someone bumped into me, as they were rushing past. I turned to see who it was, and I saw a whoosh of bushy hair swirl around as she turned to apologize.
"Sorry!" she cried hurriedly, and out of breath. She stopped to look at the person who she had just hit. "Oh, it's you, Neville, I'm really sorry, see I left something very important in…" she stopped mid-sentence. She had just seen the paper I had in my hand. Her paper.
"Oh, well, er, I found this paper in the library and was going to find you and give it back," I tried to explain, cowering under her anger.
"Why is it unfolded, then? Surely you wouldn't read it?"
"I was, er, just checking that it belonged to you and—"
"You read it?!" She looked livid.
"N-no. Well, I-I…"
"If you ever tell anyone about this, you will be very sorry indeed," she warned.
"No-o, I won't say a w-word."
"Good."
She snatched the paper away and was gone. So much for going to ask her for help. Now what was I going to do? My brilliant idea of asking Hermione for help was now worthless. She was too angry with me, and I wouldn't have wanted to make it worse…
An idea slowly formed in my head as I walked back to the common room. I could write Ginny a note! That way I don't have to work up the courage of actually saying stuff to her in person. It was a brilliant plan, if I do say so myself. So, I guess in a way, Hermione did help me out.
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I think that for once in my life I was the last one in the common room that night. Usually I like to get lots of rest, but after thinking of writing that note, I wanted to get started right away. However, things were not going well at all. I must have started a hundred letters, but I just didn't like the way they sounded. Papers littered the floor around me, and eventually I had to chuck them all in the fireplace because I didn't want anyone to find out what I was doing, and I was running out of places to put the half-used pieces of parchment.
Writing a love letter is much harder than I had thought it would be. I had ones that started out saying "Hi, how are you?" and others saying "To my darling Ginny". I didn't know how to put my feelings into words. I finally came up with a simple letter, hoping that she would know what I was trying to say. I didn't sign it. I contemplated for a good long while, but I just couldn't decide if I wanted Ginny to know it was me. Part of me wanted to tell her my feelings, and let nothing be unsaid. Another part of me remembered Colin, and I didn't want to put much pressure on either of them.
It was getting much later when I finished the note, and I decided to go to sleep. Unfortunately, I forgot to put the note somewhere where only Ginny would find it. But I was so tired I forgot. So, when I awoke the next morning, I realized what I had done and rushed down from the boy's dormitories to search for the not before it fell into the wrong hands. I looked and looked everywhere. I looked under the chair where I had sat writing that note late into the night, but it wasn't there. Maybe it fell into the fire, I thought desperately. Or maybe she found it before anyone else. It did have her name on it after all, I thought. And with that somewhat acceptable answer for my frantic state, I left for the Great Hall for breakfast. I was very hungry after all. Writing a love letter can take a lot of energy, and on top of very little sleep.