Lovely. Is the word that comes to mind as Ginny's brown eyes bore into the newsprint. You've made an appearance in the Daily Prophet, being commended for your charity work and contributions to the wizarding community, again.

She sighs, averting her gaze and picking at her food before anyone- Ron in particular could notice how long she's been staring at you, and not the fine print below your picture. A little group has formed around the gryffindor table, pupils peering over shoulders with admiration, the younger ones mostly. Her eyes go to Harry, who's expression is one of satisfaction that any supportive friend would carry.

A pang of jealously shoots through her, did he prefer your company over hers? The two of you did share classes, and who wouldn't want to spend with you?. Pretty, smart, sociable, and awfully nice, so any resentful feelings she harboured against you would be followed by a wave of shame. You've tried multiple times, to become her friend opposed to the girl she would say hi to in the corridors, it never seemed to stick.

Ginny Weasley isn't insecure, per say, but it was so easy to feel small in your presence. She has friends, she's on the quidditch team, her grades are excellent, excellent is still below the likes of you it seems. The worst bit of this, might be your family name. A wealthy, pure - blood you are, one of the good ones who don't turn up their noses to others. While your mother shops for high end school supplies, she rakes through Fred's stuff to find anything still intact, life is so strange.

Speaking of the twins, they once said you might be the prettiest girl in all of 5th year, and requested that Ginny ask if you're open to dating seniors, idiots. "Here comes our celebrity". Ginny's gaze snaps up, watching as you enter the great hall with a friend, arms linked. She wishes that was her. Slowly, her eyes move from your elbow, to the many badges of your robe, to your face. She wishes she was you.