A/N: OK, I realise I am now going to get killed here as I haven't posted anything in aaaages, but I'm now posting this. Don't kill me! hides
DISCLAIMER: Do I look as if I own HP? No, I don't, so don't sue me.
BIG THANK YOU'S TO: Clara Minutes, my beta. Thank you for reading this fic over and over and over and not complaining when I sent it back for even more clarification.
And to you guys. Hey, you clicked on the fic, of course I'm gonna thank you. :P
SUMMARY: Ginny's diary is subject to many things. How she's feeling, what she's eaten, what she's done, even the odd sex scene or two. But what happens when her diary's stolen by the wrong person? September 3rd 7:39 p.m.
PAIRING: Draco Malfoy/Ginny Weasley, Implied Ron Weasley/Hermione Granger, Harry Potter/OC
Why am I doing this? I mean, seriously. I'm practically stalking him.
In my mind that is.
So then… logically, it's not stalking; it's just me being me and working myself into a tizz, confusing myself and going round and round and round in circles until I eventually burst and shout randomly, "SHUT UP, GINNY!"
Okay, maybe I should skedaddle out of the library now. The dirty looks the librarian is giving me (seriously can't remember her name), and everyone else, is making me feel very uncomfortable; especially the one he's giving me. You know who I'm on about.
Draco Malfoy.
It's the look he's been giving me for the past few weeks, like he's undressing me with his eyes.
Why do people say that? Undressing with the eyes? I mean, it's not like it could actually happen, is it? Imagine it, if you could get undressed with your eyes; all you'd have to do is look at your socks, bra or thong and it'd magically go.
That sounds cool, actually.
Okay, now I look even more idiotic, as I'm just standing in the middle of the library in front of my table and book, (also Luna, so that doesn't do anything for the not looking like a lunatic/idiot thing) staring at nothing in particular, and I'm drooling.
DROOLING!
Oh my God, I've got to get out of here. Put the book back Ginny. No, don't trip over your chair. NO!
I tripped over my chair.
Dammit.
Oh… shit. He's looking at me. No, don't do that… don't!
He's giving me the smile. You know, the smirk and smile all rolled into one?
Oh, fuck. He's laughing at me now.
Ugh… I'm going. I pick the book up and slot it back into position on the bookcase, then saunter out of the library, only running back in to pick up my bag and Luna, who's sitting there with a bored expression on her face.
I love Draco and all, but he sometimes he gets on my nerves.
September 3rd 7:52 p.m.
Like the other day, I was sitting happily staring (and possibly drooling) at him and his gorgeousness, when he would come over and kiss me, wouldn't he? It wasn't even a full on snog (which I so totally want); it was one of those annoying kisses your auntie gives you. It left me even more frustrated, and I had to get myself off in the girl's loos. Not a good place to do it.
Oh, Merlin, where am I now?
Oh, near Sir Cadogan.
"What young fools are these, trespassing upon my property?"
He's so crazy. It's so…
Oh, no. No, please no.
"Hey, Gin."
Harry. Noooo, I so don't need this.
Not that I'm about to tell him.
"Hey, Harry. Have a good summer?"
"It was alright. I was going to go after Voldemort and the Horcruxes, but your mother stuck her nose in and forced me to go to Hogwarts. How did she know?"
"Well, don't look at me."
"Looking."
"Ha ha. You're so funny," I say to him, rolling my eyes.
"Whatever, you seen Ron?"
"Caught him snogging Hermione down the corridor. Why?"
"Again?"
"Like I said, why?"
"Well, he's my best friend; I wanted to ask him something."
"Oh, what?"
I'm so nosy.
"How to get back together with someone I've already broken up with." He's looking at me. No… no! He's doing puppy-dog eyes! Why's he looking at me like that? And what's up with his eyebrows?
STOP WAGGLING!
Ah... I got it.
He wants to go back out with me.
Do I want to go out with him?
NO!
"Sorry, but… no."
"Huh?"
"You… you weren't going to ask me out?"
"No. I was talking about Cho."
Ah, this is awkward.
"Hasn't she left?"
"Yeah, but-"
"And isn't she married to Viktor Krum now?"
"Is she?"
I nod. "It was in the papers before."
"What did it say?"
"Uhm… that she's had twins, and they're getting divorced in October?"
"Why are you asking me? You're the one who's telling me…"
"Have to go! Bye!" I run past him, shouting to him as I leg it up the girl's dormatory stairs. I open the door, close it, reach for my pillow and scream.
Boys are so annoying. You can't live with them, so you send them packing. Then you want them back because they're the only one's who'll fuck you with no questions asked.
Oh… I haven't shagged anyone in a month… that's the longest I've ever gone. Probably because I've done all the guys in my year, and anyone older asks questions.
Okay, so I'm a bit of a slut, but I'm NOTHING like Pansy Parkinson. Slut.
Flinging the pillow down, I walk over to the window and rest my head against it.
"Ginny!" Shrieking comes from behind me.
"Lavender!"
Oh, God, screaming alert.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhhh!"
I don't see how anyone can get excited by just seeing me. Though it's nice, it ain't exactly Draco Malfoy shouting my name when he comes.
See! Look how desperate I am. I want it so bad I'm imagining Lavender is Draco.
Ugh, that's not a nice idea.
"So, how was your summer?"
"Alright, I guess. I got really bored."
"Didn't your brother get married?"
"Yeah. Fleur Delacour?"
"Oh, her!"
"Yeah, her. I hate her."
"I think she looks kind of pretty."
I raise an eyebrow. "Well, I think she's a total cow. She patronizes me and Hermione so much."
"She can't be that bad. It's not that hard to patronize you anyway."
Cow.
September 3rd 8:03 p.m.
Like I said, what the hell was that supposed to mean?
I don't like Phlegm, she's so annoying. 'Oh, 'Arry, you are so, 'ow you say, tall!'
It's like she's never seen another tall man in her life.
He's only six-foot-four… something…
Anyway, did I mention I'm going to be an auntie? That is not a nice thought. I mean, my older big brother fucking someone else who is so totally annoying that you just want to strangle her?
No.
Oh my God, I'm so bored.
I know, I'll go play Quidditch, and try to manage to bump into Draco while I'm at it…
Oh, so what. I'm obsessed; get over it.
September 4th 8:53 a.m.
Oh joy. Another school year; another year stuck in the same Transfiguration class. OK, so I know that there's only one class per two houses, but still…
So, I'm sitting at the Gryffindor table, quietly munching on toast, and eyeballing Draco, while trying to pay attention to Hermione and her Daily Prophet when she asks me a question. I obviously don't hear her because I'm munching and staring.
"Ginny!" she hisses.
I jump. "What?"
"I asked you, why are you staring at Draco? You know Ron'll kill you if he knows you fancy him."
"Ron can go to hell," I say, biting fiercely on my toast. "Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow," I moan as my ear is caught in a vice-like grip. I stand up to stop some of the pain, but now I look completely stupid, as I can immediately tell that Ron's wearing the Invisibility Cloak. How can I tell? Look down and you'll see at least six inches of Ron's ankle. "RON!" I shout.
Draco looks up with a smirk on his face. Slut – sorry, Pansy – looking like a cat who got the cream next to him, looking at me like I'm a piece of shit on her shoe.
Don't give me that look, bitch. In a few months, I'll have your boyfriend for myself, and then I'LL be the one who's shagging him on a regular basis.
I laughed to myself.
Oh, joy… more points to add to the idiot scale. I turned round and punched the space where Ron was. "OW!" he shouted.
Ooh… seems like I caught him in the goonlies.
Ha.
I think I'd better get out of here.
Fast.
"GINNY!" Ron screamed, throwing the cloak off and running after me.
Fuck.
I run past Professor McGonagall, who reaches out and nearly catches me, but I dodge just in time. Ron, of course, bangs straight into her and lands sprawling on the floor. I turn and laugh, then breathe in. Why the hell is HE following me? Can't he leave me alone?
No, 'cause then I think I'd… die… or something.
September 4th 9:06 a.m.
"Sorry I'm late, sir," I said to Professor Lupin, hurtling through the door.
"Virginia Weasley, this is the first lesson of the term, can you at least manage not to-"
"Ginevra."
"I'm sorry?"
"My name's Ginevra, not Virginia."
The look on his face. HAH! It's priceless.
"Take a seat please, Ginny."
Trying not to laugh, I take a seat next to Luna. Yeah, okay, I know she's in Ravenclaw, but not very many people came back this year due to the whole Voldemort thing, so all the houses have been put together.
"I saw you trying to out run Ron," Luna whispers.
"Hmm?" I'm busy trying to pull my Defence Against the Dark Arts book out of my bag. I can't really hear properly at the moment.
"Did you really hit him… down there?"
"Yep."
"Why?"
"Well, what would your first instinct be when your ear's caught in a vice-like grip, Luna?"
"You shouldn't make it so obvious."
"What?" This is what annoys me about Luna. She never, NEVER, says things simply.
Or, it just might be me and my sleep deprived brain.
"You. Staring at Draco."
"I can't help not doing that. Have you looked at him recently?"
"Yes, but Gin, I can't help but think what your brothers are going to do to him when they find out. I don't think Draco wants to die seven times,"
"I've got six brothers."
"I included Harry."
"Oh."
"Luna! Ginny! The work is on the board. Please get on with it!" Lupin says, looking up from… whatever the hell he's doing.
I don't really want to know what he's doing with his hands under that desk.
And. Oh my God, is that a picture of Sirius on his desk?
Oh, God. He's sighing and looking at it.
Ugh.
I look away to stare at the board, not actually planning on doing any work.
Hey, I've just finished my O.W.L.S. I'm allowed to goof off for a bit.
"Have you done question five?" Luna asks.
"I haven't even done question one."
"Well, get on with it," Luna said, huffily turning her parchment away so I couldn't copy.
A/N: Woo, well done. You read all the way down to here... now you see that little review button down there? You click it and tell me how to make things better, m'kay:P