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The Diary
By Pigwidgeon11

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Category: Post-HBP
Characters:Harry/Ginny
Genres: Fluff
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: G
Reviews: 11
Summary: Ginny's rage at Harry's rejection - despite it being for her own good - is finally coming into the open, and Harry's been pushed over the edge. He goes into Ginny's room, seeking revenge, and gets more than he bargained for.
Hitcount: Story Total: 6209



Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.



Author's Notes:
I thought this was kind of cute, Harry learning more about his ex-girlfriend than he thought he'd ever know. Will they reconcile? You'll have to read to find out...




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“Harry, dear, do clean up your room, won’t you?” called Mrs. Weasley as she passed him on the stairs. “It looks, well, quite a mess.”

Harry, confused, agreed. He was sure he had left the room perfectly neat this morning, except perhaps for a pair of jeans thrown over a chair. When he reached his room, however, it was most definitely a mess.

Clothes were strewn everywhere: robes, ties, shoes, Muggle pants and shirts. Books had been thrown from his Hogwarts trunk, which lay on its side, spewing the entire contents of various nostalgic items. Ink drenched his carpet, the little of it he could see, that is, as most of it was blanketed in papers that had been pulled from his desk. Drawers on every piece of furniture were pulled, his mattress lay askew upon its frame, and his wardrobe doors had been thrown open.

Harry staggered against the door frame. He couldn’t help but be reminded of a time, five years ago, when Neville had taken him up to their dormitory to find it a mess.

He picked his way carefully through the catastrophically untidy room, and had begun realigning his mattress when he noticed a paper pinned to his desk, where he usually kept the picture of Ginny. Making a dramatic leap to the chair, he unpinned it, and his stomach curled up as he read it.


And this time I’m not even looking for Riddle’s diary.
-GW



Harry swore and tossed the paper into his waste basket. Ginny had done all this? And apparently without magic — it was too well done. He groaned and sank to the floor.

He knew breaking up with Ginny was for her own safety, but he couldn’t help regretting it. She had been cordial about it, of course — up till this point. Her words had seemed straightforward, but their sweet, alluring tone always made him mad with temptation: he knew she was taunting him. Ginny hated not being with him clearly just as much as he hated not being with her. But there was nothing for it.

This was the last straw, though. In the last week alone, Ginny had managed to mess up every single appointment he had potential employers. Twice, women had come calling from the Ministry, and both times, when asking if Harry were involved with anyone, Ginny said, quite firmly, that she and Harry were a definite couple. This couldn’t go on any longer. Harry was nearly tearing his hair out in frustration



That very afternoon, when Harry was sure Ginny was safely out in the garden, he crept up to her room and looked around for a place to begin. If he was going to prove to Ginny that he wasn’t to be messed with, well, he’d have to show her how exactly he tolerated having his room torn to pieces. He decided firmly upon throwing the contents of her waste bin into the room, but had barely reached his hand towards the plastic basket when a picture on the very top caught his eye.

It was the picture of Ginny that she’d given Harry, the very picture she had removed from his room to post her note. Harry knew that if he turned it over, he’d find loving memories and notes squeezed in her tiny handwriting on the back, and it would be signed, very carefully, in the farthest bottom corner, Your girlfriend, Ginny Weasley.

He picked the picture up in a daze, feeling tears form in his eyes. Ginny had thrown the picture away. As if the words she had given him so devotedly when separated for the Easter holiday meant nothing to him now.

‘But they do mean something, Ginny. They mean everything!’ He wanted to shout it at her, grab her up and tell her how much he still cared about her. Harry swallowed. He might as well sign her death sentence.

He slowly sat down upon her desk chair, then leapt up in surprise: some sort of book had been hidden inside the cushion of the chair. Bemused, Harry wondered what Ginny would want to hide from her family. Hesitating only a moment more, he unzipped the cushion.

Harry realized immediately what it was: a diary. Unlike Riddle’s diary, however, this one was a deep midnight blue, covered in rather girly stars, Harry thought. For a moment Harry’s hand slid towards the latch that held it closed, but he recoiled, horrified.

“You can’t go in there, those are Ginny’s personal thoughts,” he muttered to himself.

He stood, the diary still in his hand, unable to stop wondering what she had written about him.

On a sudden whim, he clicked the latch, and nearly dropped the book as Ginny’s own voice asked, “What did I tell Harry Potter on the walk around the lake after our first kiss?”

Harry blushed furiously, glancing around for Ginny. But she wasn’t there. It slowly dawned upon him that the voice had come from the diary: it was an entry question, like a password. And the question was one that only she and Harry could answer…almost as if she wanted him to look…

Not hesitating any longer, Harry coughed and said loudly, “That Harry Potter was a great kisser.” He felt his cheeks go red again as the lock snapped open.

With shaking hands, Harry turned the pages of the diary, searching for his name somewhere. Half the entries were trivial, probably from Ginny’s first few years at Hogwarts, but then, there it was:


August 12
I couldn’t quite breathe this morning, I was so worried for Harry. I knew he’d get off: he had to. All the same, when he came back and told us that he’d gotten off, it was like something had lifted out of my chest and my lungs had been freed. I think I nearly cried right there in front of the Boy-Who-Lived.



Of course, the trial… he had almost forgotten. The summer of his fifth year at Hogwarts.

The next mention of his name came the very next summer, clearly after the affair at the Ministry.


June 29
I can’t stop thinking about Harry. Mum says he’ll be OK at the Dursleys’ for a little while, but I can’t help wondering how he’s coping with Sirius’s death with no one to talk to but Hedwig. I know if he were here I could talk some sense into him: he talked to me so much this year; I might even dare go so far as to say he considers me a friend. I only wish he would trust me with this. He hasn’t written once.



Harry sighed. Of course he had considered Ginny a friend.

Harry skimmed the diary, pausing at mentions of his name.


July 17
He’s here! Harry finally arrived. I’m so glad to see him — I was starting to get worried that he’d do something drastic in his grief over Sirius. He looked good — a little pale and skinny, but he laughed with us. It was refreshing to hear him laugh.



The next entry wasn’t until June of the next year, but Harry grinned from ear to ear, despite the fact that tears were steadily streaming down his face.


June 2
I think I will die.

Harry. Harry Potter. Harry-whom-I’ve-loved-forever Harry.

This is the best day of my life.

Harry Potter kissed me.

Oh, all right, we won the Quidditch Cup too, but HARRY POTTER KISSED ME!
It was incredible. One minute I was looking around for him, then he was there, and I was running towards him, I couldn’t help it, and he was grinning, and I was just going to hug him but then he bent his head down and circled his arms around me and — AND KISSED ME!

We had a long walk around the lake, of course, so as to talk things through. I rather think he likes me — he asked if I want to be his girlfriend!

I never dreamed this to be possible. Of course, I’ve seen his eyes on me a lot more this year, and he’s talked to me even more than Ron or Hermione — they’re both so busy making each other jealous. I thought that was just it, though: with Ron and Hermione busy, he needed someone to talk to. Now it seems he likes me!!!!

I could squeal with delight. Actually, I did, as soon as I got the chance to run into the Room of Requirement, where the walls are soundproof. I rather think I screamed at the top of my lungs.

You know how I said I felt something lift off of me, all that time ago when Harry was cleared of all charges by the Ministry? It was my heart, I realize now. Even then, I hadn’t given up on him. I tried to give up on him, tried to get over him, but to no avail. And now I am really glad I didn’t!!!!




Harry’s eyes slid to the next entry, and his hands shook involuntarily.



June 26

Voldemort could kill me right now, and I don’t think I’d feel it.

Not only is Dumbledore dead — Dumbledore! DEAD! — but Harry broke up with me at the funeral.

I tried to tell myself that he was doing it to protect me. I know he was — I can tell when he was lying, and he looked me straight in the face, tears and all, and told me he didn’t want to endanger me any more. But I feel so…empty without him. Life before Harry was normal. Life with Harry was extraordinary. Life without him is hell.

He’s still around, all the time, actually. I have to deal with him every single day, have to pretend I don’t love him. Sometimes I just want to slap him. I nearly did, this morning at breakfast. I think Mum noticed, though. I have to be more careful. I’m supposed to not care that Harry broke up with me. I’m supposed to get on with my life like I did when my other boyfriends broke up with me.

This is the worst day of my life.



Harry drew a deep, shaky breath. He had known she was struggling, but that much? It scared him.

He had been about to close the diary when Ginny’s door opened and Ginny herself strode in. Her eyes met Harry’s and widened, before sliding down to the diary. Her face went red with fury.

“How DARE you!” she shrieked, flying at Harry. Her wand was already out. She snatched the diary and sent it soaring across the room. “How DARE you come up to my room and read my diary! I never would’ve believed it of you, Harry-”

She faltered, wand at his throat. He had looked up for the first time, and she noticed that tears streaked his face.

“Damn it, Ginny,” he whispered, and, without really realizing what he was doing, he stepped forward, slid a hand behind her head, and pulled her towards him. He heard her gasp as she became aware of what he was doing, and as their lips met, Harry heard her wand clatter to the floor. He tasted tears, but not his own — Ginny was crying too. Her lips, softer than he remembered, trembled as he kissed them. He felt quite dizzy.

They clung to each other a moment after resurfacing. She was crying into his chest now, shaking with racking sobs. He closed his eyes — it felt so good to hold her again.

“Ginny, I’m so sorry…” he mumbled into her hair. “I wish I’d never broken up with you, and I’m sorry for looking in your diary, but it’s been torture not talking to you, and I needed some sort of connection to you, and I found it by accident, and…”

She was only half-listening, he knew. He could hardly hear himself over her little whimpers, noises that sent shivers through his entire body.

“I needed to protect you,” he whispered, gently backing away from her, crouching slightly to be at her level. Ginny wiped her eyes, gazing down at him as though she’d never seem him before. “I needed to feel as though I’d done something to make you safe, but Gin, your dad is risking himself for the Order every day, and Voldemort knows that, and he knows you, and you’re in danger every day, and I wanted to lessen it a little bit-”

“Dumbledore always said,” Ginny said shakily, “that love was a magic Voldemort didn’t know. His greatest weakness, I think he called it. So did you honestly think making me hate you would do anything for your war effort?”

Harry shrugged awkwardly, straightening again. “I couldn’t stop worrying about you. I was desperate to do something.”

“Prat.” She scowled at him.

He grinned, leaning in to her again. “I missed you, Gin.”

“I missed you too,” she whispered.

And as Harry’s lips met Ginny’s, they were both thinking the same thing: ‘Took you long enough.’

A/N: I'm taking a random poll: which of my stories are you most anticipating the sequel for? This will help me in deciding which chapter to write next. Also, does anyone want to beta-read for me? I think I had someone beta for me once, but it kind of fell apart. Can't hurt, right? Thank you for bearing with me through my impossible Author's notes.
Reviews 11
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