It was Sunday evening when the mediwitch gave him his wand back. "Try to avoid any other mind-altering spells," she had warned while handing it over. As if he needed that advice!

He twirled the much-loved piece of wood over Hermione's latest entry, tracing over the letters in a half-caress. He now had everything he needed. Moving the wand tip from the edge of the page onto his hand, he began carving out all the necessary patterns and symbols into the soft flesh that rested there. His tongue molded around the incantation as he raised the diary to his mouth. He half-breathed, half-whispered the spell into the text sealing it with a brush of his lips and a swipe of his hand. His blood flashed once cutting a stark contrast against the crisp white parchment. And just like that, he was thrown into its depths.

.................

Marvin smirked as he slowly became accustomed to his new environment. The spell had worked perfectly, he thought congratulating himself. He was now looking out onto the world through Hermione Granger's eyes.

The girl was sitting cross-legged in a yellowish chair that now seemed more marigold than yellow from age with her knobbly knees poking out from under her robes. He could see a blank piece of parchment peeking out from the corner of his peripheral vision-- or rather her peripheral vision if one was being picky-- with the beginnings of a note on it.

He reached out with ethereal fingers, pulling on the mental strings that would gently nudge her head down. A small red book lay nestled between the black folds in her lap with his name penned in flowing script at the top. It was her half of the diary and he had caught her writing mid-sentence.

My dearest Marvin, he moved her eyes across the page, meet me in the alcove tomorrow. I want to work on—

But that was as far as he'd gotten when her diary closed with a SLAM!!

His vision reeled as Hermione's head swiveled around, blurring the wall-hangings together in a wash of red. He blinked away the vertigo, his eyes coming to focus on a head of fiery red locks that also seemed to blend into the background. This new girl leaned over towards Granger, a disconcerted scowl tugging at her freckled face. She was obviously a Weasley. He just couldn't remember which. Winny, Timmy, Jimmy...

"Ginny!" Hermione called out. Apparently she had no such trouble as the name practically jumped off her tongue. There was a note of surprise in her voice that Marvin could feel all the way across her thoughts. The rippling rainbow hue, however, was soon streaked with a dark purple as the red-haired girl shoved an accusing finger against her little red book.

"What—is— this?!" she spat out.

Hermione instinctively curled in, tucking the book between her knees and her chest. "Nothing," she said, shifting her eyes nervously about the room. "It's nothing."

The red-haired girl straightened to her full height, her hands rushing to meet her waist. "If it's such a 'nothing,' why are you acting like it's such a something?" She swooped down trying to pry the book from her legs.

"Merlin Ginny! It's just my diary," Hermione yelled, throwing her weight into her knees. "And I don't want you to read it. So shove off!"

Ginny jumped back, giving herself at least three feet before the struggling girl. A strange look suffused her cheeks as she held Hermione's diary aloft for the girl to see. The small red book was clutched tight within her tiny fists.

"Ginny don't! Give it back! That's m—!" But Ginny wasn't listening as she began to flip through the first few pages.

Her movements stopped cold. "My dearest Marvin!?" she screeched, her voice rising an entire octave. "You've been writing to him this whole time!?" Marvin mentally cringed. He didn't need to be a Parselmouth to hear the venom in her voice. "I thought you said that you were buying this for a friend."

"He is a friend, Ginny. The 'dear' part was done mostly as a joke..."

"A joke?! I told you to stay away from this guy!"

Hermione was practically pleading with her roommate to see reason, "It's just a research diary, Ginny— for research."

"It's not 'just research'!" she bellowed. "You're always hanging out with him, doing stuff with him, I mean— Dumbledore's beard, Hermione— in Hogsmeade you were even sticking up for him!"

"Yeah well, it's just plain wrong to speak about somebody behind their backs. Especially when they just got cursed and--"

"He deserved to be cursed!"

"Ginevra Weasley!" Hermione reared up and smacked the book out of Ginny's hands. It fell with a "thud" and Hermione dove over to pick it up from the floor.

"Fine then!" she yelled, her whole body shaking in anger. "Keep the damn thing!" She stalked out with a slam of the door.

……………………………………………………

Marvin catapulted from Hermione's mind just as quickly as he had entered. The spell had been easy enough to perform, but it certainly left its mark upon the user. He pressed a tissue into his abused skin. Thin rune lines soon seeped through the paper in a delicate pattern of red. That, he readily acknowledged, was an unfortunate but inevitable side-effect to his type of magic. He had wanted an opening into the girl's mind and had to pay for it with this.

That was the one thing about practicing dark magic—it typically required some sort of compensation, and usually it was blood. And while he had only a few qualms about spilling others', he wasn't always eager to spill his own. Call him a sadist any day of the week, but he was far from a masochist.

He would have to cover up the wound at any rate. He couldn't leave it to chance for Madame Pomfrey to find out about. She would have him in the hospital wing for the rest of the week—or worse yet, tell someone like Dumbledore or Professor Snape. They would surely recognize the markings for what they were, even if she did not.

So, with his eminent freedom looming in the back of his mind, he whispered a spell along the ridges of his wounded hand. It began to prickle and sting as the skin peeled off in translucent layers. Soon, he was looking down at a whole and healthy hand. He gathered the pieces of his shed skin together and tossed it in the bin. It was a trick he had picked up from his reptilian friends and one that had served him quite well.

"Madame Pomfrey," he waited until the witch popped her head in through the curtains, "I think I'm ready to go back now."

"Well that's good news," she said bustling in, placing the leftover Strengthening Solution and magic enhancers in his bag. "Just one more diagnostic check and--" she waved her wand, "you are free to go, Mr. Grey. As much as I'll miss you, I hope not to see you back any time soon."

Marvin sent her a quick one-sided grin, bowing his way out of the hospital room. A weekend was a long time to spend as an invalid and he was glad to be on his own two feet again. He took the stairs two at a time, passing by the eagle so quick it barely had time to finish its question, much less register his response. And he outright ignored the questions from his curious roommates.

He tossed the "new-and-improved" diary at his feet and dropped to his bed with a tiny sigh. The sheets felt good and cool against his cheek even if they were still an abominable blue and yellow. He had a long night ahead of him, but he was glad to be going to sleep in his own bed.

………………………………………

A.N. Well there we have it, chapter 23! What do you think? ;)

This chapter (and every other chapter before) was beta'd by Serpent in red with wonderful suggestions and comments. Those comments and suggestions certainly helped this chapter come together!

To my readers and reviewers: great big THANKS! I love it when you read this story, and I love it when you review this story. Here's to you all!