PRE-CHAPTER A/N: It's been edited, it's been changed a bit, and it's been beta-ed. Yay. Also, FFnet is a whore about formatting. Damn you, auto-format! Damn you!

This story is mainly Tom/Ginny. There will probably be Draco/Ginny references, but nothing serious. I might plan on hooking Draco and Harry up later, just because I absolutely love that pairing... And there will be homosexual themes later even if I don't hook them up -- you can count on that. I'm not warning about it, and I won't put a big bold warning at the beginning of a chapter or anything... If I should have to do that, then I should ahve to put up big warnings about heterosexual themes. Sorry, that's just the way it's going to be. Gays and lesbians do exist, and they exist in literature as well. If you don't like that, then don't read my story. It's as simple as that.

This is Pre-OotP, so if I have any information that's not canon past book four, forgive me.

Oh, and I do know that the diary's magical properties left when the ink spilled out of the diary thanks to Harry dearest, but I'm ignoring that. K?

Furthermore, I promise that you will not find any disgusting cliches that make you want to rip yor eyes out in my story. Examples:
1. "So wrong, but so right..."
2. "He's so hot... WAIT I TOTALLY DID NOT JUST THINK THAT!"
3. "Their bodies fit perfectly together..."
ICK. Are you cringing yet? I am.

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Steal the secrets of the sun,
Run faster if you dare...
J. Miller: Run Faster

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Ginny followed behind Ron and Harry, heading into Diagon Alley. Her rucksack was weighted down with money, because of fantastic profits from summer jobs. She had requested a Time Turner from Dumbledore so she could work multiple jobs at the same time, and surprisingly, he had sent her one. 'Multiple' meant not one, not two, not even three, but five well-paying jobs over the summer. She had put half of the money in the bank, but still had about enough to rival what Malfoy's dearest daddy was going to spend on him for the upcoming school year.

Ron and Harry stopped abruptly in front of the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies, and Ginny nearly bowled right into them. She stood behind them, standing on her tiptoes trying to see what they were looking at. Impatiently, she pushed the two apart enough to see what the fuss was about: the latest broom model — the Firebolt X. Her eyes widened as she looked at the woodwork and detailing of said broom.

"- and I think you should buy it, Harry." Ginny caught the end of Ron's sentence.

"Zero to 200 in 9.8 seconds," Harry admired, "It would be great to see the look on Malfoy's face if I walked onto the pitch with this thing..."

'Well,' Ginny thought, 'if I'm going to try out for the Quidditch team, I might as well get my own broom...'

She watched Ron and Harry ramble on about the broom, making strange faces and odd hand gestures to demonstrate their excitement over the Fantastic Almighty Holy Firebolt X of Spectacular Spectacularness. Granted it was a fantastic broom, and what better broom to buy if she was already planning on getting one? Ginny started to make her way toward the door to the shop, but faltered when Ron called out obnoxiously. "Hey, Gin!"

She turned to face him. "Uh huh?"

"Do you think it's Firebolt X as in 'eks' or 'ten'?" he asked, pronouncing the 'X' as 'ten.' "X as in 'eks.'" She rolled her eyes.

'Ron would die of laughter if he knew that I was planning on trying out,' she thought, thinking better of buying the broom while they were around.

She turned to enter the stationary shop, and Ron and Harry followed shortly after.

Ginny had originally planned on trying out for the Chaser position, but after filling in for Fred or George numerous times on the weekends over the summer, she had come to the conclusion that the Beater position was much more appealing.

After grabbing a few rolls of parchment, bottles of red and gold ink (to support Gryffindor, of course), and an array of other coloured inks, Ginny headed to pick out new quills — this would probably be the only time she would be able to choose anything other than standard ones, after all. She picked up a few beautiful quills with black feathers and the Japanese characters for the different elements on them, an "Unbreakable!" Phoenix-feather quill and a few Chudley Cannons quills for Ron, then promptly checked out. Literally tossing the Chudley Cannons quills to Ron, she waved good-bye to the boys (who were nowhere near done shopping) and left for Flourish and Blotts.

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Ginny wandered aimlessly through the bookstore, browsing titles and not putting much effort into searching for her sixth-year textbooks. She managed to collect The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Six by Miranda Goshawk and Magical Drafts and Potions for the Advanced Student by Arsenius Jigger as she surveyed the bookcases.

"Talk about luck," she muttered, grabbing the last copy of The Beater's Bible by Brutus Scrimgeour. She hastily hid it in between two other books, turning it so the title couldn't be seen.

A few minutes later, Ginny stood in the checkout line with her textbooks and a few extra Quidditch books, including Beating the Bludgers — A Study of Defensive Strategies in Quidditch by Kennilworthy Whisp. She sighed, placing the books on the counter, letting the clerk ring them up.

"Ten Galleons, eight Sickles, and twelve Knuts, please," said the clerk.

"Since when are books so expensive," Ginny muttered under her breath, reaching into her rucksack and pulling out her money pouch. She handed the clerk the correct amount of coins, took the bag of books, and headed next door to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions - a place that she had never been to in her entire sixteen years in existence.

"Welcome, welcome! I am Madam Malkin, and I have robes for all occasions! What are you looking for, dear? Lengthening? No, you're already quite tall... Spangled? Self-ironing? Slimming, fattening, beautifying, temperature-adjusting, even plain - we have them all!" exclaimed an energetic, squat woman.

"Er... I need Hogwarts robes, and dress robes. How much do the temperature-adjusting cloaks cost?" Ginny asked.

"Oh dearest girl, aren't you in luck! We're having a wonderful sale on almost all of our robes, for today only! Cloaks of the temperature-adjusting variety will only cost you four Galleons and four Sickles!"

"And the self-ironing robes?"

"They're two Galleons and nine Sickles — a steal, if I do say so myself!"

Ginny nodded. "I'll take six Hogwarts robes of the self-ironing kind, and three temperature-adjusting cloaks –" She paused, spotting three beautiful dress robes on display in the back of the store.

The first was an emerald green satin dress with a wide neck and short sleeves. It had multi-corsets that led into a very flowing skirt, which would no doubt twirl around. The second was form-fitting black velvet and had a low cut V-neck and inch-thick straps. It tied from below the breast all the way down to mid-thigh with black satin. But the last of the three was by far the most beautiful. It was ivory velvet and had a square-cut neck, with the bell-sleeves open to the shoulders. The sleeves also had slits on the underside from the elbow to the ends. There were satin laces on the sides of the torso, which tied in bows at the hips and the extra material hung down by where a person's legs would be. The skirt of the dress was flowing, with an uneven cut on the bottom.

"How much are those?" Ginny asked.

"Oh, deary. Those are not on sale..." Madam Malkin said sheepishly.

"How much are they?"

"I'm not sure if you could afford them…"

"How much!"

"25Galleons15Sicklesand18Knuts!" Madam Malkin exclaimed quickly, flustered and startled by Ginny's persistence.

Ginny could only buy one of the dress robes if she wanted to have money left over for the broom and the rest of her school supplies, but she didn't even have to think about which one she would choose. "I'll take the green one on top of the other robes."

Madam Malkin nodded. "…Are bags alright, dear?"

Ginny gave a short, curt nod. Madam Malkin turned on her heel and rushed off to collect the robes, bag them, and ring them up. After all, customers willing to pay giant Galleons for an outfit were her favourite kind.

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An hour later, Ginny walked into Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. Her pack was stuffed to the brim with items; she carried multiple bags on each arm, and a Crup puppy mischievously followed behind her, trying to attack her new black knee-high boots.

"Oy, Gin! Where 'ave you been!" Ron called.

"You're turning into a Cockney, Ron," she said, making a face. "And I've been shopping."

She let her bags slide off her arms as she pulled out a chair and plopped down on it. The Crup puppy jumped up into her lap, lying down.

"You bought all that and a Crup? Way to save your money, Gin," Harry teased.

"A-Actually, I got him really cheap. The lady at Magical M-Menagerie — the one with the heavy black spectacles, I can never remember her name — said that he was quite the t-troublemaker, and he wouldn't sell. He took a liking to me, and so she sold him to me for a little over three Galleons," Ginny stumbled over her own words. Harry had always seemed to hold power over her: all he had to do was speak or even look at her and she was at a loss for words, or blushing, or acting like a complete idiot — most of the times, it included all three.

"Oh yeah, Gin, that's cheap! Cheap is one Galleon –"

"Ron!" Hermione cut him off.

'When did she show up,' Ginny thought. Not that she wanted to see her anyway, but she didn't really have much of a choice. She leaned back, pulling her legs up onto the chair cross-legged. Ginny stroked the small Crup's back, regaining her self-composure and ignoring Hermione.

"Considering he's purebred and would have been twenty-five galleons if he weren't on sale, it's cheap," she countered, lifting her chin in the air. "I'm thinking of naming him Mercutio, since he's such a troublemaker. Mercutio was my favourite character in Romeo and Juliet. Or Tybalt — well, no, Tybalt is more of just a big jerk. He's definitely not a Romeo, or a Benvolio. Ha! Benvolio, the peacekeeper! That's the exact opposite of what this little troublemaker is," she laughed. "Maybe I should name him that just to be oxymoronic..."

Ron completely ignored Ginny, his eyes falling on one of her shopping bags. Ginny looked at him strangely for a minute, but his gaze didn't leave the bag. She looked from him, to the bag, to him again, then to the bag again, not understanding what was so mesmerizing.

"What?" she asked.

"Since when do you shop at Quality Quidditch Supplies?"

Ginny's face flushed. 'So much for him not finding out,' she thought. "I... I... I don't, Madam Malkin ran out of bags and had to borrow some from QQS..."

"But there's a Madam Malkin's bag right here," Harry said.

If Ginny hadn't had a crush on Harry, she probably would have wrung his neck. She, with all the Gryffindor bravery she could muster, scoffed at Harry. "D-Do you have to be so bloody observant all the time? So what, I went shopping at Quality Quidditch Supplies, okay? Why is that such a crime?"

Harry and Ron looked at each other with confused looks on their faces. "But... Why would you go to QQS?" Ron asked.

Ginny growled in frustration. "One of you is too observant, the other isn't observant enough. You two make a great pair, y'know that?" She sighed. "I'm trying out for the Quidditch team this year."

Ron's face remained blank. "…There's not a Chaser spot open, Gin."

"I know that, you dolt!" She rolled her eyes, pausing before admitting, "I'm trying out for Beater."

Hermione nearly choked on her ice cream, and she spat what was left in her mouth back into the bowl. She didn't even bother to wipe the melting ice cream that was dripping down her chin and onto the table before talking. "You're going out for Beater? You're going to get yourself killed! Gin, I understand that you want to play Quidditch, and you're good for... a girl, but seriously! A Beater, Gin?"

Ginny's eyes widened with anger. She was good for a girl? She was good for a girl! She was good for anybody! It's not like she couldn't handle Bludgers; she certainly had the muscle, and she played Beater all the time over the summer. And it wasn't like she was too little — she was 5'11", which was way taller than most girls her age and she hadn't even finished going through puberty.

"Gee, Hermione, thanks for your support," Ginny seethed.

'I'll make sure to hit a Bludger at her first,' she thought.

It's not like she liked Hermione anyway; she was always sticking her nose where it didn't belong and tended to show up at the worst time to give her opinion on the matter at hand. She never hesitated to give advice either, especially when it wasn't wanted. For a brainiac, she really was lacking in the common sense department. It's pretty obvious that when you're given the cold shoulder, ignored, growled at, and nearly beaten to death, you're not wanted around.

"Gin, school Quidditch isn't at all like backyard Quidditch... There's rules, and terms, and –"

Ginny pulled out the Quidditch books that she had purchased and set them on the table. "I've got it covered. And it's not like I'm not strong enough. You and Harry both know that I spent the time that I wasn't working over the summer boxing."

"What about a broom? You can't use school brooms - they're slower than Polyjuice Potion on a cold day," Ron said.

"Yeah, I kind of... have one..." she nearly whispered. She grabbed the QQS bag and pulled out the broomstick, which was wrapped in brown paper and tied with twine. Ginny untied the package and pulled the paper open, revealing the beautiful new (expensive) Firebolt X model.

"Merlin, Gin!" Harry exclaimed. Ron reached for the broom, but Ginny slapped at his wrists, not letting him have it. But as soon as Harry went to take it, she froze, her breath caught in her throat. Harry, thankfully, realized that his wrists would probably get slapped, and his hands dropped to his sides. Ginny's breathing returned to its normal state.

"You're real lucky to have that, y'know?" Harry smiled. If she were to die then, she'd die a happy woman. "We hope you get on the team. Right, Ron?"

"Er... Yeah, and I hope you don't get yourself killed."

Rolling her eyes, Ginny rewrapped the broom, and tucked it into the QQS bag. "Whatever, I'm going home."

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"This really sucks," Ginny said to herself, studying her reflection in the mirror. She looked as plain as ever, with her stick-straight flaming red hair, pale complexion, freckles - which, thankfully, had reduced themselves to just a few sprinkled here and there. She grabbed the insta-dye she had "borrowed" from her mum (she had seen her use it to cover her gray hairs, and the box said 'any colour') and squeezed some of the dye into her plastic-glove covered hands.

In the end, she chose an auburn colour that was darker and didn't quite scream "red!" as much as her natural hair colour. She also chose black and gold streaks on the underside of her hair, which were visible through her incredibly choppy layers.

"Gin, Mum is going to murder you when she sees your hair!" Ron shouted at her.

"She's not going to see it," Ginny said. "I'm leaving for King's Cross before she gets home."

"Well I see it, and I don't like it!"

Ginny extended her leg, and with one quick motion, she kicked the door of the bathroom shut, almost literally on Ron's face. Finally, she finished rinsing her hair, and she wrapped a towel over her hair turban-style, and then went back to her bedroom. She opened her wardrobe, and realized that the only clean outfits that she had were from a Muggle store. "Well, shit!" Ginny mumbled, mentally kicking, punching, and all-around beating herself silly because she forgot to have her mum wash her dirty laundry.

Sighing at her own stupidity, she pulled on a comfortable pair of jeans and tied them with a black and gray cloth belt that had originally gone to one of her old robes. Then she slipped into a black In Flames tour t-shirt. Ginny stepped into her new boots and attached a silver chain-link bracelet around her wrist. Even though she wore makeup, it was almost always naturally-coloured, and she didn't go too heavy on the eyeliner or mascara. She finished the look with a single coat of Sparkling Melon lip balm, then grabbed her trunk and pack and headed to the fireplace, where she would then Floo to the King's Cross Station and, ultimately, Platform 9 3/4.

Ginny quite literally dragged her trunk with her as she walked down the corridor of the train, searching for an empty compartment. She rolled her eyes as she saw Draco Malfoy and his cronies — Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, and Millicent Bulstrode — walk towards her.

"Aw, look, the Weaslette's all alone," Draco mocked. "What, did the Dream Team -"

"Malfoy, I've avoided you thus far, watch as I avoid you some more," she said, rolling her eyes. Ginny walked past him, her shoulder bumping into his as she continued. Her trunk nearly bowled Crabbe and Goyle over, while Millicent and Pansy shrieked like banshees and jumped out of the way.

As Ginny walked away, Draco finally realized what was different about the youngest of the Weasleys - other than her calm confidence. Her hair was less of a fireball, and she was dressed distastefully in Muggle attire (although they definitely did not look unappealing to the eye).

After shutting the compartment door and sliding her trunk into the compartment under the seat, Ginny sat down, staring out the window. The door slid back open, but Ginny didn't pay attention to it. Instead, she hummed lightly to herself and waited for the train to start. She saw people scrambling around on the platform, including Harry, Hermione, and Ron.

"Weaslette!"

"Hmm?" Ginny mumbled.

"I said I want this compartment," Draco drawled.

"Yeah, okay." Ginny snorted. She didn't move. Rolling his eyes, Draco entered the compartment and stood in front of Ginny. She didn't acknowledge his presence. He waved his hands around, snapped his fingers - but she still just stared out the window.

"Weaslette, are you going to move or am I going to have to drag you out?"

"I'm pretty sure that the correct answer is 'neither.'"

Draco's eye twitched and he reached for his wand. Ginny grabbed his wrist. Finally, she looked up at him. Unlike Harry or Ron or Hermione, she was not angry or annoyed. Her eyes were completely carefree. "Malfoy, I'm not leaving. You are."

"I don't think you understand what I said, Weaslette," he sneered, reeling back from her touch. "I. Want. This compartment. Which means you're leaving. And don't you dare touch me! Merlin, Weasley germs, how lovely."

"No, I really don't think you want this one. I've infested it with Weasley germs." She smiled at her sarcasm.

"Why are you so bloody cheerful!" Draco screamed. He turned her face so she would look at him, and he nearly hunched over her. "Can't you see I'm trying to get a rise out of you? And all you can do is sit there and act happy about this? First you ignore me. Then I say I want the compartment, and you say I don't. I insult you, and you insult yourself. What the hell is wrong with you?"

A smile slowly broke out across Ginny's face. "Because Draco, I got a rise out of you." Laughing, she pulled her legs up onto the seat with her. She reached up and tucked her hair behind her ears as she calmed herself. It really wasn't hard to find out what angered the Ferret after six years. Draco was about to shoot back a witty remark, but Ron, Harry, and Hermione came to 'save the day' just before he could.

"Get away from my sister, you bloody prat! You'd probably pull an Avada Kedavra or one of the Unforgivables -"

Ginny reached down, and unzipped her boot as Ron rambled on about how Malfoy was evil. She pulled her boot off of her foot and threw it at Ron. She missed his head, but hit him in the shoulder - which was just as effective, because it got him to shut up.

"Bloody hell, Gin, what was that for?"

"I can take care of myself; I don't need any of you to come and rescue me. All he was trying to do was make me angry, but it worked in reverse -"

"Actually, you were lucky that we showed up, Ginny. We've learned curses that you haven't, which also means we know the counter. If he threw a curse at you that you didn't know the counter to -"

"Oh god, Hermione, do us all a favour and shut up." Ginny rolled her eyes. Hermione's jaw dropped. "He didn't even notice that I took his wand. He was too preoccupied with 'Weasley germs' on his wrist."

"You took my wand?" Draco shouted, but Ginny continued talking.

"He couldn't have thrown anything at me. And Ron, you do a lot more distracting than saving these days, and even so, I don't need you for either. Harry was probably the only one with half a brain, here. He stayed out of this - which is a surprise."

"You're acting like... like... like a Slytherin!" Ron shouted.

"Ouch, Ronnie, real deep," Ginny teased. "You're still my brother and I still love you, but I don't need your protection. Honestly. You three can run along now. I've got this under control."

Hermione 'hmphed' and she, Ron, and Harry left to find themselves a compartment. Ginny threw Draco's wand out the door. "Go fetch," she said. As soon as he was out the door, she drew her own wand to shut and lock the door. After the door was shut, it registered to Ginny that the back of Draco's hair was dyed black and spiked outward. She vaguely remembered the front of his hair being longer and in his eyes more, as well.

'That's so…' she thought, searching for the right Muggle word, 'Emo.'

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It took Ginny Weasley five years to trust diaries again. As of last year, she had started keeping one again - and thankfully, this one didn't involve anyone who talked back to her.

1 September 1997

Stupid brother with his stupid friends. And stupid Malfoy for even bothering me in the first place. I'm sick of them all. I wonder if Dumbledore would let me be an exchange student or something. No one trusts me, because I'm still "that creepy chick" or "the girl who nearly killed us all." And look at what a fabulous life I have: I sit here and tell all my problems to a bloody diary.

This is really terrible of me, I know. But I honestly wish that sometimes, maybe Tom didn't have to go away. He was my first and only best friend (if I could even call him that; in the end I wasn't even his friend). When I found out that he had tricked me, I didn't hate him. Actually, I was mad at Harry for destroying the diary. I wanted to ask Tom, 'Why? Why did you try to kill me?' and 'Would you have saved me after you came back?' and sometimes I even think that I was willing to die for him. Not as in to let the world go to hell. Or because I was so incredibly enamoured by him. I mean it as in I would die to save a friend. Would that be considered 'saving'?

I want to stay in this timeline for Quidditch. That is, if I even get on the team. But, maybe I could go visit his time, and then come back? Maybe I could bring him back to this time period? Or –

Ginny stopped writing. Harry didn't destroy the diary — He gave it back to Lucius. She remembered, because he had hidden a sock in it, and Lucius, out of sheer stupidity, handed the diary to Dobby. And that was when Dobby was freed. So, if the diary was still intact, it meant that it was somewhere in the Malfoy Manor library. Maybe it had a few ugly holes, but it was probably still usable.

She had to have it.

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"Ow! Jesus!" Ginny shouted after someone walked right smack into her.

"You can call me Malfoy in public, Weaslette." Ginny was surprised that he even knew who Jesus was. A

Malfoy was not one to be known for having knowledge of Muggle mythology.

She looked up and snickered to herself. "Oh no, Weasley germs! Ahh! You're going to die!"

"Ha ha, very funny. I wouldn't be surprised if I did die."

"Well, at least then there'd be one less moron to deal with." She paused. "So, wanna do me a favour?"

Draco resisted the urge to laugh out loud. "Me? Do you a favour? I don't do anyone favours, let alone Weasleys."

"Hmm, too bad then." She shrugged, and continued walking to lunch, humming to herself. 'Three, two, one...'

Draco turned, running to catch up with her. "So that's it? No protests?"

"If you can't help me, then I'll find someone who can."

"Well, if you want to get laid that bad, Weaslette –" Ginny stopped. She threw her head back in laughter at Draco's comment. She collected herself, running her fingers through her hair.

"Why are you not trying to murder me?" she pondered aloud.

"I may think you're stark-raving mad, but you're the only person who truly angers me. You get respect for that."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Well, okay then... So, how about helping me?"

"I told you, if you really want to get laid –"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I want Tom Riddle's diary."

It was Draco's turn to laugh. It took him over a minute to actually calm down, and Ginny scrunched her face up impatiently at him. When he finally settled down, he looked at her like she had grown a second head. "I thought you were stark-raving mad before, but this... Are you really trying to get yourself killed?"

"Eh, no... You wouldn't understand it, because you've probably never missed anything in your life. You get what you want and do what you will." She paused again. "And plus, it's not like you even have any friends in the first place."

"I do too have friends!" He sneered at her. "What do I get out of it?"

"Anything that doesn't involve sex."

Draco pondered the offer. He had everything he wanted, as Ginny said so herself. And if he didn't have it, all he had to do was owl his father and he'd get it within the next day. So what could Ginny Weasley offer to him that he couldn't get anywhere else? He had absolutely no idea.

"Can I take a rain check on that?"

Ginny nodded. "If I get the diary by Thursday."

"Done."

Ginny turned and continued to walk to lunch, Draco alongside her. Both of them were unaware of what an odd spectacle they were.

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POST-CHAPTER NOTES: Since people in the Wizarding world do not follow any religions, and since religions are mythology, Jesus gets noted as a mythological figure rather than a religious figure. Just FYI.

PS: J. Miller is a local musician who's absolutely fantastic. If you're interested in his music, I can send it to you. Just let me know.