Dear Diary
You would not believe it if I told you that I spent last night sleeping with Harry Potter! Granted it was a couch and granted nothing happened but it's the principle of thing. We spent a few minutes talking, but we were both so tired that we fell straight asleep. But he did tell me something strange. He told me that he has nightmares often, and it made me think.
I've always thought of him as indestructible until the Triwizard tournament and brave and some kind of superhero because in a way he did save my life. But the more I watch him, the more I realise he's just a normal person. He gets happy and sad about normal things, gets angry and shouts like everyone does had nightmares and gets scared like everyone else. This is the side I've never seen before, or chose not to see.
When I woke up the next morning he wasn't there, and I made my way over to the kitchen table. About half an hour later Ron and Harry turned up looking dishevelled and tired. It amazed me that Harry had time to go to sleep on the couch, wake up, get to Ron's room and fall asleep in there as well in short a such space of time. Ron greeted me with his usual early morning grunt, and Harry did the same, delving into a bowl of cereal as if nothing had happened. Thus proving my earlier theory that either Harry doesn't care or just doesn't notice me.
Ginny Weasley...call me Miss Furniture.
Anyway, I better go, I can here Ron calling me which must mean Hermione has arrived. She's taking a direct Floo ride from Viktor Krum's house in Bulgaria - something that has had Ron seething about for over a week. I think it's incredibly funny that everyone sees what doing on except him and Hermione, they must either be blind or stupid, and since be talking about Hermione here, I'm tempted to go with the first.
Love Ginny
I hastily hid my diary, and ran down the stairs ready to great Hermione. I love it when Hermione comes to visit us, I'm the only girl in the whole house apart from mum of course, and sometimes it's nice to stop being one of the guys. I got into the living room, and headed over to the fireplace noticing with a huge grin that not only was Hermione here, but she had her arms around my brother.
'Get a room you two' I said, noticing with a smirk that they jumped apart rather quickly.
'We weren't -' started Ron, whose face was going an interesting shade of red.
'It was only a hug Ginny' said Hermione seriously, whose cheeks also looked slightly flushed.
'Oh really?' I questioned, arching my eyebrows at their discomfort - sometimes it was so obvious.
I became aware of someone trying not to laugh behind me, and I turned around to see Harry leaning against the doorway clutching a piece of toast in his hand. My stomach gave the usual flutter that it did in his presence, and I quickly looked away to save myself any more embarrassment.
'Harry?' shrieked Hermione, running forward and pulling him into a hug, I couldn't help but laugh at the panic spreading across his features as Hermione held him in a head lock.
'Yeah' he choked, prising Hermione away and rubbing his throat slightly.
'What are you doing here?' she asked, looking at Ron for an explanation.
Ron merely shrugged awkwardly, and I noticed Harry's eyes dart nervously in my direction. I can take a hint. Whatever it was, Ginny shouldn't know.
'I'm going outside' I said abruptly, hurrying from the room acutely aware of the eyes following my every move.
I breathed steadily when I got outside, and decided to go for a walk. I pulled on a pair of battered trainers and headed in the direction of my tree. I walked past, meaning to go into the woods around the house when something in the grass caught my eye. It was my sketchbook, still lying where I'd dropped it the night Harry arrived. Thankfully the weather had been good the last few days and the traditional English rain had held off.
I picked up my pad and looked at the picture again, feeling suddenly nervous in case anyone had seen what I had drawn. The one person in the picture was so obviously Harry, and what would they think if I'd been comparing him to Tom? It's really quite uncanny, the similarities between the two. They can both speak Parseltongue, from what Tom told me they were both orphans, raised by muggles, good students and they even look alike.
I found myself feeling slightly scared by the idea, and words from my dream the other night came back to haunt me. 'Evil is ever present, I feel it inside of you, inside of Harry' Tom had told me, was he right? Do I have evil inside me? Does Harry? I suppose everyone must have a dark side, and memories of things I had done in my first year resurfaced. I killed the roosters, I wrote the messages on the wall, I did all of those wrong, evil things - does that make me evil?
I felt slightly nauseous, remembering my first year and the path my thoughts were taking me so I decided to head home. Suddenly the cool woods held fear and loneliness instead of peace and solitude, and I grasped my sketchpad and pencils to me as I ran home. I'm doing it for the exercise I told myself, there's no other reason I'm running.
I got into the house and breathed a sigh of relief, quietly creeping past the living room where Harry, Ron and Hermione were sat hoping to make it to my bedroom unnoticed.
'Dumbledore's coming to see me today' came Harry's voice floating up the stairwell.
I told myself not to listen, not to eavesdrop but there was no other way I would ever find out what was happening.
'What's going to happen?' asked Hermione fearfully.
'He's going to make me go back. I can't stay here. He won't let me' said Harry heavily.
Harry was going back to those people? How could Dumbledore do that? Harry was a million times safer with us, than with the Dursleys. I looked down at my picture, deciding I really ought to try and hide it so I made my way quietly up the stairs.
As I got into my room, I checked for any sign of the twins, who usually enjoyed hiding in there to scare me, and then pulled out a large folder from under my bed. It was full of drawings and paintings I have done of the years, some on parchment, others on muggle paper. There were pictures of the family, pictures of my brothers, friends, animals, scenery. My absolute favourite one of all time is a picture of Ron and Harry, drawn just before the Quidditch World Cup. They had been playing Quidditch themselves and had finally collapsed in a state of exhaustion on the grass. I was thrilled with this picture, their likeness to the real people were amazing and even though I am completely modest about my drawing skills, it's the best I've ever drawn.
I slid the picture of the Chamber of Secrets into a separate file. This was my file full of pictures I've drawn when I'm sad or angry or upset. Most of them had Tom in them I had realised a few months ago, or the Chamber of Secrets, or the Triwizard tournament.
I placed the files under my bed, and hastily rearranged my bedspread as I heard feet approaching my door. It was Ron and Hermione, but instead of coming in, they walked straight up to Ron's room. I felt a little put out, and decided to do some drawing, it usually helped pass the time. I searched everywhere for some pencils, but realised I had left them by the tree, so I made my way downstairs quietly, to search to cupboard in the living room.
There was no one in the room, but the fire was crackling merrily and there was an air of expectancy about the place. I quickly started rooting through the darkness of the cupboard when I heard a voice. I straightened up and when I saw who it was, instinctively stepped into the closet and pulled the door nearly to, closing it until just a fraction light was visible.
'Good morning Harry' came the old voice from the living room.
'Professor' acknowledged Harry, somewhat stiffly in my opinion.
'Harry, you were told to stay at your uncles home, I cannot believe you would take such a risk traveling half way across the country on your own' Dumbledore said, with disappointment lacing his voice.
'I know that Sir, but I couldn't help it. I didn't have anywhere else to go' replied Harry, apparently taken aback by Dumbledore's disappointment.
I shifted uncomfortably in the dark, aware that I was not supposed to be listening to this conversation, and hating eavesdropping, but there was nothing I could do about it now.
'And why did you leave?' asked Dumbledore.
'I didn't leave' said Harry angrily, 'I was thrown out'
'I see' said Dumbledore thoughtfully, followed by a long and uncomfortable silence.
I was trying to quieten my breathing which seemed to be magnified by the small closet. The silence lasted a long time, and I had almost thought the conversation had finished when the voices started up again.
'Are you able to go back?' Dumbledore asked.
'I don't know,' said Harry stubbornly, 'But I wouldn't even if I could'
'Harry, you must live with the Dursleys, they are your protection. I have told you this before' said Dumbledore calmly.
'They are not protecting me though' said Harry through gritted teeth,
'They're just making things worse' 'Harry, I can see that you have your problems with them, but running away never sort anything out'
'It's sorted this out good enough for me' said Harry stoically.
'Harry, you may think you are safe here, but let me tell you this. The night you ran away, I know for a fact there were Death Eaters in your area. They are everywhere now and you cannot trust anybody. How would you know if the driver of the Knight Bus was not a Death Eater, or the person you walked past in the street? You will never be safe unless you stick to the rules put in place for your protection' Dumbledore told him severely.
'Screw the rules! I'm not spending one more night in the house, and I won't go back. I rather take my chances' said Harry angrily.
'Harry getting angry with me won't sort this out. This house does not hold the necessary protection to keep you safe, your uncle's house does. You must go back' reasoned Dumbledore.
'No' whispered Harry.
'Harry you must-' started Dumbledore before he was cut off.
'No! I will not go back there' cried Harry passionately.
There was a lingering silence and through the crack in the door I could see Dumbledore watching Harry as he paced across the room. I held my breath as I waited for the conversation to continue.
'Please don't make me go back' pleaded Harry, gazing into the eyes of the headmaster, 'Please'
Dumbledore carried on watching Harry, and seemed to be doing a serious amount of thinking. Finally he stood up and paced the room himself. I prayed that he would let Harry stay, and not make him go back to that house.
'Fine Harry. Have it your way. You may stay here, however, you are not allowed outside of this house and its protective ward, and you must inform someone of your exact movements during the day' said Dumbledore heavily.
'Thank you Sir. I truly mean it' said Harry sincerely.
'Yes well Harry you must be careful. This is against my better judgement. Now show me to Mr and Mrs Weasley, there is much I will need to discuss with them' he said, allowing himself to be led out of the room by a grateful looking Harry.
After a few minutes, when there was no chance of Dumbledore returning I slipped out of the cupboard and darted up the stairs, not stopping until I was safely in my room.
'Where have you been?' came Hermione's disapproving voice, as I turned around to see her and Ron sitting on my bed.
You would not believe it if I told you that I spent last night sleeping with Harry Potter! Granted it was a couch and granted nothing happened but it's the principle of thing. We spent a few minutes talking, but we were both so tired that we fell straight asleep. But he did tell me something strange. He told me that he has nightmares often, and it made me think.
I've always thought of him as indestructible until the Triwizard tournament and brave and some kind of superhero because in a way he did save my life. But the more I watch him, the more I realise he's just a normal person. He gets happy and sad about normal things, gets angry and shouts like everyone does had nightmares and gets scared like everyone else. This is the side I've never seen before, or chose not to see.
When I woke up the next morning he wasn't there, and I made my way over to the kitchen table. About half an hour later Ron and Harry turned up looking dishevelled and tired. It amazed me that Harry had time to go to sleep on the couch, wake up, get to Ron's room and fall asleep in there as well in short a such space of time. Ron greeted me with his usual early morning grunt, and Harry did the same, delving into a bowl of cereal as if nothing had happened. Thus proving my earlier theory that either Harry doesn't care or just doesn't notice me.
Ginny Weasley...call me Miss Furniture.
Anyway, I better go, I can here Ron calling me which must mean Hermione has arrived. She's taking a direct Floo ride from Viktor Krum's house in Bulgaria - something that has had Ron seething about for over a week. I think it's incredibly funny that everyone sees what doing on except him and Hermione, they must either be blind or stupid, and since be talking about Hermione here, I'm tempted to go with the first.
Love Ginny
I hastily hid my diary, and ran down the stairs ready to great Hermione. I love it when Hermione comes to visit us, I'm the only girl in the whole house apart from mum of course, and sometimes it's nice to stop being one of the guys. I got into the living room, and headed over to the fireplace noticing with a huge grin that not only was Hermione here, but she had her arms around my brother.
'Get a room you two' I said, noticing with a smirk that they jumped apart rather quickly.
'We weren't -' started Ron, whose face was going an interesting shade of red.
'It was only a hug Ginny' said Hermione seriously, whose cheeks also looked slightly flushed.
'Oh really?' I questioned, arching my eyebrows at their discomfort - sometimes it was so obvious.
I became aware of someone trying not to laugh behind me, and I turned around to see Harry leaning against the doorway clutching a piece of toast in his hand. My stomach gave the usual flutter that it did in his presence, and I quickly looked away to save myself any more embarrassment.
'Harry?' shrieked Hermione, running forward and pulling him into a hug, I couldn't help but laugh at the panic spreading across his features as Hermione held him in a head lock.
'Yeah' he choked, prising Hermione away and rubbing his throat slightly.
'What are you doing here?' she asked, looking at Ron for an explanation.
Ron merely shrugged awkwardly, and I noticed Harry's eyes dart nervously in my direction. I can take a hint. Whatever it was, Ginny shouldn't know.
'I'm going outside' I said abruptly, hurrying from the room acutely aware of the eyes following my every move.
I breathed steadily when I got outside, and decided to go for a walk. I pulled on a pair of battered trainers and headed in the direction of my tree. I walked past, meaning to go into the woods around the house when something in the grass caught my eye. It was my sketchbook, still lying where I'd dropped it the night Harry arrived. Thankfully the weather had been good the last few days and the traditional English rain had held off.
I picked up my pad and looked at the picture again, feeling suddenly nervous in case anyone had seen what I had drawn. The one person in the picture was so obviously Harry, and what would they think if I'd been comparing him to Tom? It's really quite uncanny, the similarities between the two. They can both speak Parseltongue, from what Tom told me they were both orphans, raised by muggles, good students and they even look alike.
I found myself feeling slightly scared by the idea, and words from my dream the other night came back to haunt me. 'Evil is ever present, I feel it inside of you, inside of Harry' Tom had told me, was he right? Do I have evil inside me? Does Harry? I suppose everyone must have a dark side, and memories of things I had done in my first year resurfaced. I killed the roosters, I wrote the messages on the wall, I did all of those wrong, evil things - does that make me evil?
I felt slightly nauseous, remembering my first year and the path my thoughts were taking me so I decided to head home. Suddenly the cool woods held fear and loneliness instead of peace and solitude, and I grasped my sketchpad and pencils to me as I ran home. I'm doing it for the exercise I told myself, there's no other reason I'm running.
I got into the house and breathed a sigh of relief, quietly creeping past the living room where Harry, Ron and Hermione were sat hoping to make it to my bedroom unnoticed.
'Dumbledore's coming to see me today' came Harry's voice floating up the stairwell.
I told myself not to listen, not to eavesdrop but there was no other way I would ever find out what was happening.
'What's going to happen?' asked Hermione fearfully.
'He's going to make me go back. I can't stay here. He won't let me' said Harry heavily.
Harry was going back to those people? How could Dumbledore do that? Harry was a million times safer with us, than with the Dursleys. I looked down at my picture, deciding I really ought to try and hide it so I made my way quietly up the stairs.
As I got into my room, I checked for any sign of the twins, who usually enjoyed hiding in there to scare me, and then pulled out a large folder from under my bed. It was full of drawings and paintings I have done of the years, some on parchment, others on muggle paper. There were pictures of the family, pictures of my brothers, friends, animals, scenery. My absolute favourite one of all time is a picture of Ron and Harry, drawn just before the Quidditch World Cup. They had been playing Quidditch themselves and had finally collapsed in a state of exhaustion on the grass. I was thrilled with this picture, their likeness to the real people were amazing and even though I am completely modest about my drawing skills, it's the best I've ever drawn.
I slid the picture of the Chamber of Secrets into a separate file. This was my file full of pictures I've drawn when I'm sad or angry or upset. Most of them had Tom in them I had realised a few months ago, or the Chamber of Secrets, or the Triwizard tournament.
I placed the files under my bed, and hastily rearranged my bedspread as I heard feet approaching my door. It was Ron and Hermione, but instead of coming in, they walked straight up to Ron's room. I felt a little put out, and decided to do some drawing, it usually helped pass the time. I searched everywhere for some pencils, but realised I had left them by the tree, so I made my way downstairs quietly, to search to cupboard in the living room.
There was no one in the room, but the fire was crackling merrily and there was an air of expectancy about the place. I quickly started rooting through the darkness of the cupboard when I heard a voice. I straightened up and when I saw who it was, instinctively stepped into the closet and pulled the door nearly to, closing it until just a fraction light was visible.
'Good morning Harry' came the old voice from the living room.
'Professor' acknowledged Harry, somewhat stiffly in my opinion.
'Harry, you were told to stay at your uncles home, I cannot believe you would take such a risk traveling half way across the country on your own' Dumbledore said, with disappointment lacing his voice.
'I know that Sir, but I couldn't help it. I didn't have anywhere else to go' replied Harry, apparently taken aback by Dumbledore's disappointment.
I shifted uncomfortably in the dark, aware that I was not supposed to be listening to this conversation, and hating eavesdropping, but there was nothing I could do about it now.
'And why did you leave?' asked Dumbledore.
'I didn't leave' said Harry angrily, 'I was thrown out'
'I see' said Dumbledore thoughtfully, followed by a long and uncomfortable silence.
I was trying to quieten my breathing which seemed to be magnified by the small closet. The silence lasted a long time, and I had almost thought the conversation had finished when the voices started up again.
'Are you able to go back?' Dumbledore asked.
'I don't know,' said Harry stubbornly, 'But I wouldn't even if I could'
'Harry, you must live with the Dursleys, they are your protection. I have told you this before' said Dumbledore calmly.
'They are not protecting me though' said Harry through gritted teeth,
'They're just making things worse' 'Harry, I can see that you have your problems with them, but running away never sort anything out'
'It's sorted this out good enough for me' said Harry stoically.
'Harry, you may think you are safe here, but let me tell you this. The night you ran away, I know for a fact there were Death Eaters in your area. They are everywhere now and you cannot trust anybody. How would you know if the driver of the Knight Bus was not a Death Eater, or the person you walked past in the street? You will never be safe unless you stick to the rules put in place for your protection' Dumbledore told him severely.
'Screw the rules! I'm not spending one more night in the house, and I won't go back. I rather take my chances' said Harry angrily.
'Harry getting angry with me won't sort this out. This house does not hold the necessary protection to keep you safe, your uncle's house does. You must go back' reasoned Dumbledore.
'No' whispered Harry.
'Harry you must-' started Dumbledore before he was cut off.
'No! I will not go back there' cried Harry passionately.
There was a lingering silence and through the crack in the door I could see Dumbledore watching Harry as he paced across the room. I held my breath as I waited for the conversation to continue.
'Please don't make me go back' pleaded Harry, gazing into the eyes of the headmaster, 'Please'
Dumbledore carried on watching Harry, and seemed to be doing a serious amount of thinking. Finally he stood up and paced the room himself. I prayed that he would let Harry stay, and not make him go back to that house.
'Fine Harry. Have it your way. You may stay here, however, you are not allowed outside of this house and its protective ward, and you must inform someone of your exact movements during the day' said Dumbledore heavily.
'Thank you Sir. I truly mean it' said Harry sincerely.
'Yes well Harry you must be careful. This is against my better judgement. Now show me to Mr and Mrs Weasley, there is much I will need to discuss with them' he said, allowing himself to be led out of the room by a grateful looking Harry.
After a few minutes, when there was no chance of Dumbledore returning I slipped out of the cupboard and darted up the stairs, not stopping until I was safely in my room.
'Where have you been?' came Hermione's disapproving voice, as I turned around to see her and Ron sitting on my bed.