Why Did Ginny Kiss Harry Back In Her Sixth Year In The Changeling? Did She Finally Realize She Liked

Why did Ginny kiss Harry back in her sixth year in The Changeling? Did she finally realize she liked him ? Or she did it because it felt good?

Ginny kissed Thompson back because it felt nice and she figured ‘why not, he’s a nice guy’ and she was kind of curious to see what it would be like.

Ginny kissed Harry back despite their fights and misunderstandings and being in different houses and everything in her brain telling her it’s a terrible idea. Not because it felt good or she was curious, but because she wanted to do that for a very long time, because of how she feels around him, and because, in that moment, she realized she wasn’t going to be able to get away with pretending otherwise anymore. But maybe that’s okay. Harry, as always, somehow makes everything feel a little less scary. 

How did the parlor come to exist? Who would Ginny be by the end of the changeling if it didn’t??

I imagine The Parlor was born out of information, practices, and people being slowly marginalized, maligned, and outlawed. In ancient cultures women’s knowledge might have been valued, but it was also probably also always secret or protected or at least ‘kept to the women’s quarters’ so to speak. But as male knowledge, power, and systems evolved and grew more powerful, women’s knowledge had to go underground--back to the earth from which it came, one might say. Both to protect itself, but also to ensure that it was never lost.

The Parlor is an extension of this vast network, this vestige of beliefs, practices, and knowledges patriarchy says is all better forgotten. And it far predates Hogwarts.

It’s hard to say who Ginny would be by the end of The Changeling without it. She would still be Ginny, she would still be tested, still find strength. I keep thinking of what Antonia said to her in in my head we do everything right when Ginny say she didn’t know who she would be without Antonia and she answers, “You’d be you. Only less interesting.” But something else Ginny might have been, was far more like Snape. Though what kept Ginny from that fate was a combination of The Parlor and the DA. So it’s hard to know. It’s all so thoroughly entwined.

Who were Tobias’s friends before he got to know Ginny and Smita?

Oh, he had a pretty good casual rapport with the boys of his year. Chatting with them and complaining about homework and such. As we’ve seen, Tobias is really great at being all surface and charming ease. He never deeply bonded with any of them. Not helped by his general disregard of sport and disinterest in competition of any kind. He’s that kid who is popular just by merit of seeming to not give a shit if he’s popular. It left a lot of people unsure if he’s really just a waste of space or if he is someone who is really going to go places–a prime confidence man. And the possibility of the latter would keep most Slytherin on his good side.

(I did create a list of all the students by year at some point while I was working on The Changeling, but canonically, the people Ginny’s year aren’t mentioned much in the books. So I have on my list Ginny, Smita, Bridget, Helena, Tobias, Kieran Harper, and someone named Gilbert. Some of these I made up and others I grabbed from HP wikis or something.)

Do you remember how you came up with the scene of Ginny being forced to get a tatto? Was that something you had in mind pretty early on? I think it had such a huge impact on a loooot of things after the years, in different ways

Well, at first it just seemed like kind of a vile, shitty thing someone like Draco Malfoy might do to someone he secretly hated, but was having fun stringing along. I knew from the start that Ginny’s dismay at being in Slytherin was not missed by her housemates. She hasn’t really endeared herself, acting like she’s morally superior or something, too good for Slytherin. And Draco is just being a petty shit, showing off for his friends. It was after I first thought of it though, that the long-term implications started to occur to me, and I realized what a long term reminder and symbol that could be, about surfaces and assumptions and control of one’s own destiny--about the ways it might make people assume things about her and how hard that would be, and how powerful it would be for her to turn that to her benefit. So it was an idea bouncing around from the beginning, but one that the symbolism and repercussions took a while to develop.

movie ron: i’ll heh go easy on you. even though you have consistently showed us how proficient you are at spellcasting and how hyper confident you are at magic. i’m the Man so i’ll go easy, don’t worry my overwhelming manliness will not allow me to disarm a poor defenceless girl

book ron: [excitedly] I DISARMED HERMIONE THREE WHOLE TIMES DID YOU SEE THAT HARRY DID YOU?????

Woah, Ginny used magic to split herself? Is there something that I missed that suggested that? Can you expand on that?

“What troubles you, Mistress?”

Ginny looks up at Nymue, shaking her head. “It’s nothing, I just…” She glances helplessly around at the stacks and stacks of books. “Are there any texts on Occlumency in here?”

“No,” she says. “You won’t find any conventional magics in these books.”

“Conventional?” Ginny echoes.

“Wand magic,” Nymue clarifies.

Ginny frowns. “What other kind of magic is there?”

Nymue gives her a slow smile. “My dear, there are limitless other kinds.”

Ginny’s cheeks flush, Nadira’s scathing voice echoing in her mind. It’s never even occurred to you that it could be your world that is limited, not mine.

Nymue flicks a finger and a text slides out of one of the shelves. “If you have interest in the keeping of secrets, of mind protections, perhaps this book could be of use.”

The book floats over and lands on the pedestal.

Ginny crosses over to look down at the rich blood red leather cover of the text, the title embossed in gold in a language she is unfamiliar with. She reaches for it.

“Fair warning that the magics contained in these texts have been banned by many of the modern governments.”

Ginny pulls her hand back. “Why? Are they dangerous?”

“Dangerous to whom?” Nymue counters with. “To the casters? Or to the wand masters?”

“Wand masters,” Ginny repeats, brow furrowed. It’s a strange phrase.

Nymue gives her a smile that is a little hard, a little predatory. “Is anything truly without risk?”

Ginny picks up the book.

and a bit later after she reads the book:

She feels like that a lot these days, like two people existing inside the same body.

She stills as it occurs to her that being two people could be useful. One of her would never think of the dangerous things at all.

Snape watches her calmly, as if waiting to see which side will win.

But maybe neither side has to win, Ginny thinks.

“I believe I understand, sir,” she says.

Ginny uses the book from Nymue, and the forbidden magics within, to make herself into a perfect, compartmentalized Occlumens. Even as she worries what that makes of her, and knows she won’t really probably be ‘whole’ again.

She lets herself be an open book, or at least one of her selves. The least dangerous but no less authentic one, the Slytherin with Muggle-loving parents and ruthlessness in her heart. The one who understands the importance of lowering her head and going along with whatever will keep her life preserved. Who misses Quidditch and hates History of Magic and is scared of what happens down in the dungeons. The girl who misses her best friends and is swamped by loneliness sometimes.

This Ginny has no doubts except about herself, no reservations about the lies she is being fed, no training in Occlumency. She’s never kissed Harry or mourned Burbage.

There are no edges to be found, no trap doors or defenses. Just endless depths for him to probe and dig through and feel he knows her, all of her.

She is an ocean—fathomless and swelling.

It’s what Snape suspects later, but has no way to know for certain.

Snape remains sitting. “Your progress as an Occlumens has…exceeded my expectations. You show a rare gift.”

She knows this is meant to be a compliment, but instead it seems to settle deep in her stomach like a stone. We aren’t monsters.

“Some of that is talent,” he says, “and some work ethic. But also, I suspect, something more.”

Her chin lifts. She reminds herself that there is no way for him to know.

“Perhaps something a bit more unorthodox?” he presses, like she might be pushed into bragging.

She has learned far too well not to let her surprise show, simply mirroring back his own calm expression.

His lips twitch. “I could ask you about that, but I realize far too well I am doubtful to get an answer, even if I tried to take it.”

He definitely suspects she’s been dabbling in something beyond curriculum, but then he’s never been bothered by stepping outside the rules when required. He’s also the only one to suspect that she does this again with Crabbe and Goyle in later chapters.