For the next few days, I tried to think of who that note could have been from. I sat next to different people in my classes every day, trying to see if anyone's handwriting matched, but to no avail. It was unnerving, and I was frustrated. Who wanted to send me that note? Did they mean what they said, or was it all a big joke? Or, could it have been part of an evil underhanded scheme to break up my relationship with Colin? Colin, the great idiot, was still convinced it was the latter (except he thought I was the one with the underhanded scheme), and he wasn't about to talk to me (least of all help me figure out who the note was really from). It was like one giant puzzle, and I was trying to put it all together, without any pieces. I didn't know where to turn to, so, I decided it was time to ask for help.
Finding Ron, Harry, and Hermione is easy enough to do after dinner in the Great Hall. They always seem to sit in the same place, in the same chairs by the fireplace, no spontaneity. So, I slumped down into one of the chairs next to them, and made a very loud sigh. It was all part of my plan that they would be the ones to start the conversation, not me. That way it makes the whole thing less embarrassing for me.
"What's up, Ginny? You look a bit flustered," said Hermione.
"Oh, I'm just thinking," I said innocently leading them on.
"What about?" asked Ron.
"Well, I was just thinking about that anonymous note that I was sent."
"Have you found out who it's from yet?" inquired Hermione.
"No… I having a bit of trouble figuring it out myself… you three don't know who it might be from, do you?" I asked, tentatively.
"Why would we know?" said Ron, rather insensitively.
"Well, I don't know what you do and don't know, Ronald!" I retorted, coolly.
"Will you two please cut it out!" Harry said, irritably.
"And what put you in such a bad mood? Did Loony Lovegood realize you're a Crumple-Horned Snorkack? Or better yet, did you realize that she's a Crumple-Horned Snorkack?"
"Shut up, Ron," said Harry, moodily. He and Luna had been going out for a while now. I always did think it was a little weird…
"Have you got any leads as to who it might be?" Hermione asked, looking down at her Transfiguration homework.
"I haven't the foggiest," I replied. "You don't have any ideas, do you, Hermione?"
"Hmm… you can tell a lot about a person by their handwriting," she said, scribbling something down on her paper.
"But I already tried the matching handwriting thing, and it didn’t work!"
"No, no, you misunderstand me. What I mean is that you could figure out what the person's personality is, and then try and find people who match the personality."
"Oh. And how exactly does one go about doing this?"
*~*~*~*~*~* (A/N: Time for Neville's p.o.v.)
Back and forth. Back and forth. All I could do was think and pace. There was nothing for it. The only conclusion I could draw from this unsettling predicament was to tell Ginny myself. However, I was not simply going to accept this idea without a fight. My nerves were having a right little fit about my one and only solution.
There was nothing for it, though. I had no other alternatives. Hermione was absolutely no help. All she said was 'follow your heart'. Well, what the heck was my heart saying? My heart was a little confused. It wanted to tell Ginny. That must have been what it was telling me. The only problem was that this message was getting a not-so-friendly response from my stomach.
Despite my nerves' attempts to counter my solution, I decided that I had to tell her before she found me, the coward. However, the manner in which I did this was still up to me. So really, my stomach hadn't lost just yet (there was plenty of time to back out of it). How was I going to tell her? I could write her another note, but that might remind her more that it was my first note that messed things up for her in the first place. This only left one thing: if I couldn't tell her on paper, I'd have to tell her in person.
*~*~*~*~*~* (A/N: back to Ginny!)
As I read the note over and over, trying to take Hermione's advice, I realized that it was not working. I could make out anything about this person's sloppy g's or their loopy y's. What were they really supposed to mean? That this person what sloppy and loopy? Somehow I didn't think so.
This mysterious note sender was just that: mysterious. This got me to thinking about what I could tell about the note sender by their act of note sending. They either did it maliciously, or innocently. They didn't sign it because they didn't want me to know who it was out of evilness and jealousy or forgetfulness and shyness. So that makes two different people. One, someone who is mysterious, malicious, evil, and jealous. Or two, they are mysterious, innocent, forgetful, and shy.
This leaves two kinds of people: people like Draco Malfoy, and people like Neville Longbottom. Something told me it wasn't Malfoy, evil though he is; he doesn't have access to the Gryffindor common room that I know of. That left one person.
~*~*~*~*~ (A/N: Switcheroo!)
"Ok!" I said to myself, as I got off the library chair I had been siting in. It was time to tell Ginny the truth. She may not like it, but it had to be done. I had spent the last half-hour in the library, trying to motivate myself. I walked five paces, then walked right back. It was easier to think of things that could go wrong, than things that could go right. The last time I had tried, I had only gone three steps, so I was making progress. Neville, you fool, I told myself, if you really like her, she deserves to know.