Such irrepressible rage and physiological coldness I directed to Ginny over the next week! Her presence, solemn and quiet when in an atmosphere I accompany, her desperation to persuade me to accept her apology, her fake anxiety that she relentlessly keeps up, pretending to be concerned when she doesn't care about my feelings at all, I detest it! But even worse, what did Penelope think?
My usually rapt attention during lessons was broken, now it seemed every minute I was worrying about what she thought and how she felt. She must be disgusted at my sister's nosy behaviour, and she might possibly think it was me who had inflicted this terrible attitude upon Ginny, and that it was my bad example that had caused my younger sister to be like that. I barely saw Penelope anymore - only a flash in corridors, and during lessons she always sat away from me.
It was one dull grey Thursday afternoon and I sat brooding in the empty common room. My History of Magic essay sat before me, half-finished, hanging off from the sentence 'Goblins had a considerably significant impact on the magical community when -' and left off there. But I could not write anymore. I was too distracted.
Then suddenly, the portrait hole swung open. Ginny skidded to a halt, her face white.
I glared at her. "Go away," I said coldly.
"Oh, Percy -" she hurried over. "Penelope - oh - and Hermione -"
"What are you talking about?" I snapped. "I thought everyone was supposed to be at the Quidditch Match."
"Yes, but -"