Ginny Weasley sat cross-legged on her bed. Her diary--a non-evil diary--lay open next to her, the scribbled passions of unrequited love forgotten. The quill, however, was still in her hands, though it had now been wrung into a twisted and pathetic string.

Love was so unfair. How many years had her obsession with Harry Potter tortured her? Was it now five? She had devoted herself to him—or would have, had he ever requested anything of her. He was the only man she thought of. Even the wealthy and devilishly handsome Keeper from the Ravenclaw Quidditch team who often flirted with her had no place in her heart.

And yet, what had Harry given in return? Nothing! Oh, he had rescued her once, of course. But he would have rescued anyone in the same predicament; she had just been lucky that time.

But Harry, after so many years, still failed to return her attentions. Not a kiss, not a date, not a flirtatious wink, nothing! It was if she didn't exist.

She squeezed the quill even tighter and fought back the tears in her eyes. Well, no more. She didn't need Harry. She didn't need to waste another second on someone who didn't want her.

With a sudden surge of courage and empowerment, Ginny leaped from her bed, dashed from the dorm room, and into the Gryffindor common room. Ron and Harry were playing wizards' chess.

"Hey, Ginny," they both said nonchalantly, not even looking up.

"Don't you 'Hey, Ginny' me, Harry!" Ginny announced hotly. "I've reached a decision. I will no longer be taken in by your mixed signals. It is clear you have no feelings for me, and I can accept that. For I do not need you. I've wasted too many long hours with my thoughts on you. I can now accept they don't matter. I have also accepted that I am an intelligent and beautiful young woman and that I can find someone who feels the same way. In fact, I don't need a man. I am a capable witch, and I will be able to find personal fulfillment without the use of a male chauvinist pig to cling to. I have a brain, which I will use to make a successful career for myself. Do not be surprised to find me as the Minister of Magic in twenty years! I am completely over you, Harry, and I have no regrets except for wasted time."

With a haughty sigh, she spun around and marched, shoulders back, to the portrait hole. "I'm off to express myself as an independent woman! Goodbye!" Then she was gone.

Harry and Ron stared blankly.

"What was that all about?" Ron asked, bewildered.

"I dunno," Harry said with a shrug. "She's your sister."

"Hey, are you still going to ask her out this weekend?"

"I guess so. I don't know if she'll say yes, though. She's never really showed signs of liking me."

"Yeah, you're right. Oh, well."

They changed the subject to Quidditch as they continued with their game.

The End!