Chapter 1

It was a cold, rainy day in early November. The old castle was empty, save for a few bugs and possibly mice that roamed the hallways. The sounds of footsteps echoed as a raven haired teenager entered with two companions. It was silent until a light, cautious, female voice interrupted. "Harry, are you sure you want to do this?" the girl asked.

"Honestly? No, I'm not sure, but I just want one last look around." Harry answered.

"But-."

"Hermione, I know what I'm doing. One last look, please." Harry interrupted before she could give an excuse.

Unwillingly, Hermione nodded and the three teenagers ascended up a flight of stairs. A few minutes later, they arrived where a picture of "The Fat Lady" once hung, now it was a hole in the wall leading to the Gryffindor common room which, other than the fire being out and everything being covered in a years worth of dust, hadn't changed. Harry was the first to enter the room; he looked around with a sad smile on his pale face, 'so many memories' he thought to himself. "It's strange," Hermione said when she climbed through the hole, "It doesn't seem like it's been a whole year, since you killed Voldemort, since we've been at Hogwarts."

Ron nodded in agreement with Hermione as he grabbed her hand; she gently squeezed it, but didn't look away from Harry. Ron had recently proposed to Hermione, it wasn't much of a shock to anyone really, but they were none-the-less happy for the young couple.

Harry began walking to the stairs that led to the girls' dormitories, Hermione opened her mouth to object, but Ron stopped her, "Just let him go. He needs this and you know it."

The stairs creaked as Harry walked up them one by one, staring to the top with his magnificent emerald green eyes. The spell that was once on these stairs, keeping boys from entering had been lifted a while ago, during the war a year ago. As he reached the top, he realized he hadn't the slightest idea which room he was looking for.

As if she were reading his mind, Hermione appeared at his side and said, "Second one to the right."

"Thanks." Harry said quietly opening the door which Hermione had pointed out to him. The room was a rich chocolate brown color; it looked much like the boys' dormitories, only cleaner. After looking around for a little while, he found what he was looking for. On a table beside one of the four-poster beds was a picture frame holding a picture of a younger version of him and a pretty girl with curly strawberry blonde locks that almost reached her shoulders and aquamarine eyes. Harry sat on the bed and picked up the picture, a lump formed in his throat. He sat there for what seemed like hours looking at the two teens who were staring back up at him who seemed to laughing and having a good time.

"Erm, Mate, are you okay?" Ron's voice broke the trancelike state that Harry had gone into.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine." Harry answered unconvincingly, still staring at the picture in his hands, "I promise." He added, but then something caught his eye, something behind the pillow. "What the-" he cut himself off and lifted the pillow to find a deep purple, leather bound book with a silvery strap keeping the two sides closed.

"It's her diary," Hermione said. "She was always writing in that thing."

Harry nodded and undid the strap, surprised that it didn't have some sort of spell to keep unwelcome eyes from reading the secrets written within. Written in neat handwriting on the first yellowish-white page was:

Sophia Isabel Colburn

Harry let a sad sigh escape his thin lips as he turned to the next page to find her first entry. He read it silently to himself.

August 13

Dear Diary,

This is my first time to write in you, my mother wanted to give me something to keep me occupied and "out of her hair", so she gave me this wonderful diary as a birthday gift. Usually people keep diaries to write down secrets that they can't tell anyone else, I can usually count on my best friend Harry Potter for that, but he is rather forgetful and it would be nice to be able to read this ten years from now, I can't guarantee that Harry will still remember then. I don't believe in guarantees, especially when they involve someone else. Anyway, I am eleven years old and have known Harry for five years, he's my only real friend, everyone else is mean and picks on us, we thought it would be best to stick together and so far it has worked. I have reddish blonde hair and strange eyes, they look unnatural to me personally, but they make me unique. I think I'm really going to enjoy writing in this diary, but I'm going to go meet Harry, he told me to meet him at the swings, that he had a present for me. Goodbye.

Sophie

Harry looked up from the book; tears were now welling up in his eyes. He jumped when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder, he looked up to see Hermione, who then sat down next to him and gave him a comforting hug. Ron stood back, he wasn't good in situations like these, he wasn't even going to come but Hermione eventually convinced him that Harry would appreciate it if he would at least be with him.

"Maybe we should go now." Hermione suggested, "I think we've seen enough for today."

Harry nodded once again, not in the talking mood. He gently closed the diary, tightened the strap and stood up, still holding the diary.

"Wait, you're taking it with you?" Ron asked cocking an eyebrow.

"Well, I'm not going to leave it here; I don't see why I shouldn't." Harry said stubbornly, clutching the diary close to his chest.

"It's her diary. You can't just read it."

"You act as if it makes any difference now." Harry replied, his voice shaking.

Ron stood silently for a moment and sighed deeply, "Fine. But are you just going to leave the picture?"

Harry shook his head, he had almost forgotten about the picture when he found the diary. He picked up the picture from the bedside table which was rather messy. Harry found himself smiling, definitely one of Sophie's trademarks.

"Ready now?" Ron asked.

Harry nodded and made his way to the door, he could hardly wait to go home and start reading. Sure, it would probably bring back painful memories, but he wanted to know what Sophie really thought.