Harry Potter. The name made my mind soar. I had to put down the book while I thought about this.

I was too young during the war to know who he was. All I really knew was that there was a war going on and things were dangerous. People did not talk about the war or what had happened. It was always an elephant in the room at school. People whispered, or rumored, but that was the extent.

All I really knew was that Voldemort had been killed. His followers were gone, and peace had been restored to the magical world. Harry Potter had disappeared that night...

Or so we thought. Now, I was holding in my hands a dark, soft leather book that claimed to be Harry Potter.

But, how?

'I have to know. I just have to figure this out. I don't think it is possible for someone to be in a form other than human. Well, enchanted paintings surely don't count.'

I waited for the words to show upon the page, impatiently. Part for me wished that, if this was truly Harry, I could just talk to him face to face. It was faster and far easier to believe that way.

It's rather complicated, June.

I don't care. I have the time.

You're going to get scared off.

That's a rather odd thing to say. If you truly are who you say you are, haven't you been alone long enough? About seven years, in my calculations. One would think you'd be telling the first person that stumbled upon you everything.

One would think that you would know how careful I must be with the information I have to tell.

'That was a valid point. I understood what he was talking about earlier better. Of course he was being careful with who he was talking to. If it had been one of Voldemort's followers, they probably would have done something terrible with the book.'

Am I the first person who has stumbled upon you? Or have there been others?

You are the first, and you were right about the seven years bit. And I've been sitting in that shop for most of it. Thank you for relieving me of it.

You're welcome.

I smiled, and waited to see what he would have to say next. I wanted to know more about how he got in there, but he seemed to want to take his time. When he didn't respond in a reasonable amount of time, I decided to offer him something.

I can tell you some more about myself if you'd like. Or you can tell me about how you got in there. I'm sure it's a good story.

Oh, it is. I would like to get to know you better, first though, if you don't mind. You sound like you're interesting, and I will have plenty to say later.

Now that I knew who he was, somehow, I was more able to trust him. This was a good bond. He wanted to talk to me. It was a new sensation for me. I had been here with my sisters too long. None of them wanted me around. Martha needed me around, but this was different.

I am sure anyone would be interesting after not talking to anyone for seven years.

Perhaps. So you have a lot of sisters. Do you like having a big family?

It's all right. I enjoy having people around, I guess. Mum says I will appreciate them more when we're all adults. We're just all very different. I don't always like them.

That's understandable. How are you different?

Well, my oldest sister, Rosie, is rather harsh. She's smart, but pretty blunt. After her is Brynn, who's okay. She is just always around Rosie though. She's a follower, but she's beautiful. Not as smart as Rosie. They're both Mediwitches, like I will be. And then my little sister, Martha, she's all right. She's very spoiled and needy. Typical younger sister.

And then you're there in the middle. You sound like you're a bit suffocated by your sisters.

'Suffocated is a really interesting way to put it. I certainly don't think it was suffocating, but I can see why he said that. We were all crammed in tightly into our birth order, and I did feel a bit lost sometimes. Even at Hogwarts, I had never really gained my own identity. I was always Rosie's sister, or the third Madenda girl. It was hard, sometimes, to fit that role when I did not want it.'

Suffocated is a bit harsh. Maybe just a little deprived of my own identity.

Well, you're free to establish one with me.

You're a book, Harry. Or, in a book, at least. Seems a little silly, no?

Not to me. If you can't establish it here, far away from your sisters, maybe you don't have an identity at all.

'But I do! I guess he had a valid point, though I don't want to acknowledge that he was right and I was wrong.'

Will you tell me a little bit about yourself? You don't have to talk about how you got in there. Just about you. You must be dying to talk about yourself. How have you managed to survive being in there for so long? I would die of boredom.

No option but to keep going. It hasn't felt that long, to me, to be honest. When you started writing, and I saw it was 2004, I was honestly shocked. Time sort of loses all of its meaning when it isn't experienced in a daily form. I have been lonely, of course, but after awhile, it was hard to remember what it was like to interact with others. I apologize if I am awkward.

The way he put it made me very sad. I wanted to give him a hug. Everyone deserved companionship, no matter who they were. Seven years, it seemed like long enough that even the worst criminal should not be isolated for that long.

Well, I am here now.

I squinted at the paper, as my candle was burning low.

I am sorry, Harry, but it is late and I don't have much light. Do you mind if we talk more tomorrow?

Leaving him abruptly after he told me about how lonely he had been for the last seven years seemed rather rude.

I do not mind at all. Talk to you soon.

I shut the book and blew out the candle, feeling rather satisfied with my night.

~.~

The next day was a lot nicer. I woke up to the sun shining, which put me in a good mood. It meant that today my sisters would leave the house, and I would get to talk with Harry again.

Martha was up pretty early, unfortunately, and demanded to go to the beach. Because it was early, and Rosie and Brynn weren't up yet, I had to accompany her. Luckily, the sun was not too high in the sky yet, and it was not too hot. I had my journal so that maybe I could write as I sat on the rock wall.

I could not help but smile, feeling good about everything. Today was just full of so much potential. The sun was the perfect warmth on my shoulders. It was the type of day that reminded me of all the good that was found in summer. Martha played in the water near the shore, splashing. I was about to open the journal and write when I noticed something was casting a shadow. I was not alone.

I turned around to see a bloke about my age standing behind me. "Can I help you?" I asked. I didn't mean to make it sound rude as it came out, but it did nonetheless.

"Don't believe I've seen you around here before," he said, taking a seat next to me on the wall. "Theo's my name."

"June," I said, crossing my arm.

"You renting that house for the summer?" he asked, nodding up the hill to the house we were staying in.

"Yes," I said.

"Oh, so you must be one of Brynn and Rosie's sisters?" he asked. I wondered how this bloke knew them, and hoped not have had a bad experience with either of them.

"How do you know them?" I asked.

"I see them up at the pub a lot," he explained.

"If you're here for either of them, they're likely still asleep," I said. I knew they were both asleep, even if they didn't go out last night. They were just late sleepers. Somehow, I got a weird vibe off Theo and didn't really know what to make of him.

"No, I'm not," he said. "Just saw a pretty girl on the wall and wanted to introduce myself."

I blushed a little, not being used to being called pretty. "Nice to meet you, then," I said, without taking my eyes off Martha. I hoped that this would draw our conversation to a close and he would be on his way.

"Perhaps sometime you should come to the pub with them," he said. I turned to look at him. He was tall, with blonde hair that went down past his ears.

"Maybe," I sighed.

"Definitely," he corrected. "I'll be on my way now, but it was nice to meet you, June."

I waved, half heartedly, and looked back to my journal. Now I was paranoid that taking it out here would attract another unwanted visitor.

I waited until Rosie and Brynn came down. "One of your friends stopped by," I said.

"Oh, who?" Brynn asked.

"Theo," I explained. The look on their faces said that they both knew who I was talking about.

"He's so fit," Brynn said, smiling.

"What did he want?" Rosie called, spreading out her blanket on the sand a little ways away.

"He didn't want anything," I said. "Just introduced himself to me."

She wrinkled her nose at me, and I decided I was dismissed from watching Martha. I climbed up the steep hill to the house and got settled in by the living room to write some more.

Good morning.

I rummaged through the cabinets, looking for a snack while I waited for him to reply. I wondered what it was like in there. How did his existence work? Maybe today would be the day that I finally got the answers that I wanted.

Hello, June. How are you?

I'm well, thank you. It's a beautiful day here. The sun feels so lovely today, warm and balmy.

So why aren't you at the beach?

Not much of a sand person. Would rather sit inside and talk to you. Maybe today you will tell me how you got in the journal.

Like I said, it is not an easy or nice story.

I have a snack. Tell me.

I ate some fruit salad while I waited for his response to show up in the journal.

You don't know what they are, but this journal is a Horcrux. Voldemort had seven Horcruxes. They were pieces of his soul that he split off when killing people. He put them in objects... a cup, a tiara, a locket, to preserve them. As long as they were still around, he wasn't able to truly die. The night my parents died, his body was destroyed, but because he had these Horcruxes out there, he was able to come back. My body was destroyed when I killed him.

My head began to spin. The idea of someone splitting their soul horrified me. This was just a different brand of magic than I was used to. The type of magic that did the dishes for me or allowed me to travel across the country in a matter of minutes felt safe to me, but this was something else entirely. I was not comfortable with the knowledge that the book in my hand was a fragment of someone's soul.

Did you make this Horcrux on purpose?

No! Not at all. It was a pure accident, I promise. My friends and I had destroyed all of Voldemort's Horcruxes, and then we had gone to destroy him. I succeeded, but got killed in the process. When I was dying, my soul latched on to the only non magical object in the room. I have no idea how it happened.

'I guess that's a little more acceptable. Still scary, though. I don't like this idea of dark magic.'

And you've just been stuck in there ever since?

Yes.

'How terrible. I think it's bad to be locked up here all summer, but I have no idea how bad it could be.'

I put the book down for a bit so I could absorb what I had just learned. He was right to make me wait to find out how he had gotten in there. Now, I had gotten to know him a little better and I believed him. There really was a man in my journal, and he was wonderful.

As I held it in my hand, I noticed that I had already used about twenty pages in the journal. To me, that seemed like a lot. I did not want my pages to run out... I wanted to keep talking to him forever. I would have to find something to do about this. I had to get him out.

Author's Note: Chapter 3! Thanks to potter-reading-coastie for the beta. Hope you guys will let me know what you think :)