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Ginny Weasley scurried into the noisy common room, silently praying that no one noticed her. Her eyes darted around the room, taking account of each red headed boy. Ron was absent. Percy was at a corner table, bent over a piece of parchment, his nose so close it nearly touched. Fred and George were in front of the fire, holding court with Lee Jordan. She tensed; if they saw her, they’d call her over and take the mickey out of her for that doodle, she knew it. Quickening her pace, she raced up the stairs, leaving an “Oi! Ginny!” dangling in the air behind her. The dormitory was gloriously empty, save for a napping dorm mate. With a furtive glance at the sleeping girl, Ginny flung herself onto her bed and closed the curtains with a snap.

Alone behind her curtain, she allowed herself one small sob. She hated the sound of it beyond all things. If six older brothers taught her anything, it was that crying got you nothing and nowhere. Furiously, she swiped at her eyes, refusing to let even one tear slide more than halfway down her cheek. No, crying did not help anything, but Ginny knew what did. A secret smile graced her lips in sudden, gleeful anticipation. Without further hesitation she reached under her mattress to her secret hiding place, and pulled out her most prized possession, her greatest treasure, her best friend. The small, worn black book looked just as it had the last time, and yet she knew that something different awaited her every time she opened it. She squeezed it affectionately. Her heart raced with excitement as she tenderly opened the book to a delightfully blank page. Lying on her stomach, she dipped her quill in ink and began to write.


Dear Tom,

Today has been simply miserable. I could hardly concentrate on my lessons today. Potions class was such a bore and you know how I feel about History of Magic, but double potions wasn’t even what made today so dreadful. You've no idea. I've been dying to talk to you all day.

(Ginny’s excitement grew exponentially by the second as she watched as her ink dissolved into the paper and anxiously waited for it to appear back to her)


Hello again, Ginny. I’m sure that I have been just as anxious to talk to you. What troubles you today? Tell me everything.


Oh Tom, it was awful. Today at lunch I was sitting by myself, finishing off some homework for Flitwick and, well, I guess I got distracted…HE  sat down across from me, you see, and I just can’t seem to think straight when he’s around. Anyway, I started doodling all over my parchment. It was a rather good doodle if I say so myself. Unfortunately, Fred thought so too. “Oi! Look at ickle Ginny’s drawing!” He showed it to everyone, Tom!


And this embarrassed you?


Of course it embarrassed me! I was mortified. It was only half finished, but even a twit could see that it was a picture of Harry I was doodling. If only I wasn’t concentrating on getting his scar right! I would have noticed Fred hovering behind me…


(A rogue tear splashed the page, absorbing neatly with her ink, as if it never fell)


A drawing of who, Ginny?


Harry Potter.



Tom? Are you still there?


(The ink had sunken into the page, but for the first time since she met Tom, he did not immediately respond. Panic gripped Ginny’s heart like a vice; the feeling was worse than Harry discovering she fancied him)




Yes…I am here.


Oh! Tom! I was so frightened. For a moment I thought the diary stopped working and I'd never get to speak with you again! To be honest, it was worse than I felt today when Harry looked over at Fred to see what the fuss was about.  I don’t know what I would do if you ever stopped answering me back.


I will always be here for you Ginny. Tell me about Harry Potter.


Harry is…the boy of my dreams. He makes my heart go bonkers. I could look into his eyes forever. I caught a wiff of his shampoo the other day and I lost my footing (but part of that could have been because I stepped on the trick stair). Tom, his eyes are so green. They are the most beautiful shade of green. I’d rather stare at his eyes than steal rides on George’s old Cleansweep. Every time I close my eyes I see his staring back at me. Everyone looks at his scar, the famous one he got when You Know Who went away, but all I can look at are his eyes. His beautiful emerald green eyes…I can't seem to get enough of him, Tom, but I can't stand to be close to him. My mind shuts down and I clam up, or run away, or put my elbow in the butter dish. It makes me ashamed to be a Gryffindor.  


Tell me about his scar.


His scar? What a strange thing for you to be curious about, Tom!  Well it’s on his forehead, it’s rather unusual. It’s shaped like lightening, which I think actually represents the storm effect he has on my heart…but I suppose it’s because a curse rebounded off of him when You Know Who attacked him as a baby. I heard my father talking about it once. No one knows why it happened.


This scar…it is what makes Harry Potter special?


Well yes, I suppose so. He's "the boy who lived", isn’t he? Don’t you know what that means?


Tell me.


Every witch and wizard knows his name. He's a hero. He's famous.  He always has been. He's…way out of my league. Can you believe he defeated the You Know Who twice? He's brilliant. Of course he’s Ron’s best friend, which you think would be a good thing, but really the last thing I want Harry Potter to see is me in my footie pajamas that I only wear at home. He spent most of the summer with us, you know.


Your brother’s best friend, you say?


Yes. Him and Ron have been best mates since their first day at Hogwarts. I remember the first time I saw Harry. It was at the train station. I didn’t recognize him at first because I was too busy convincing mum to let me go to Hogwarts a year early, and then George tried to shove Scabbers down my jumper and his claws against your skin is really quite uncomfortable when you’re not expecting it.   


It seems that your brothers tease you often.


Yes, they do. I suppose I should stop hoping for it to be different now that we’re all at school together. I had so hoped that it would be different here. Ron complains all the time about having five older brothers. He should try having six. Charlie is cool, he’s off who-knows-where working with dragons. Bill is in Egypt doing loads of interesting stuff with curses and tombs. Percy is really ambitious; he’s a prefect and is probably going to be Head Boy. Fred and George are obviously very popular, seeing as they’re so funny. I’m funny too, you know. I make them crack up when we’re at home! And Ron is Harry Potter’s best friend. He’s been on loads of adventures already and he’s only a second year. This morning, after Fred started making up wedding speeches, I was so embarrassed that I accidentally made the marmalade jar explode. Jam went all over me and the sixth year sitting near me. My hair is still sticky! I don’t even know how it happened. And they just laughed!


You should not allow them to tease you so. You must learn to conquer yourself, so that you may control. If you cannot gain their respect, you must take it. There are two kinds of people, Ginny: those who demand power and those who are too weak to seek it. You are nothing if not powerful. Follow your ambitions, Ginny. You will get nothing of what you want if you sit and wait for it. Getting nothing is for the weak. Only those with strength will receive what they deserve.


I do stick up for myself, Tom! At home it’s so different. At home I have the courage to talk back, or to pick the lock on the broom cupboard. Hogwarts isn’t anything like I expected. That’s why I’m so glad I have you! I’m so glad I’ve got this diary to confide in.


I too am glad. It is getting rather late, Ginny. Do you not think you should rest? You will need your energy to get through classes. I do not want you to fall behind.


Oh Tom, you're so thoughtful and you care so much! I promise I'll write again tomorrow.


Yes…tomorrow you can tell me more about Harry Potter. Tomorrow, we will become even better friends. Good night Ginny.


Goodnight Tom.



Ginny quietly closed the book, and stroked the shabby spine lovingly. She brought to her lips and gave it a gentle kiss. "You're my best friend, Tom," she whispered quietly as she placed it tenderly back in its hiding place beneath her mattress. She treated the diary with a deference she herself did not quite understand. Its power over her was palpable, although she did not yet realize it. Tomorrow, and the next day, and for many days after that, strange things would begin to happen to Ginny Weasley. Tonight, however, she reveled in her secret. For one more night, she was the luckiest girl with the best, most understanding friend in the world. A friend that she could easily spill all of her secrets…all of her soul. She drifted off to sleep with the serene innocence of an eleven-year-old girl, blissfully unaware of the monster that lived under her bed. 


A/N: Thank you so much for reading my story! Please review if you have some time! It makes my day :)

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