Disclaimer I don't own Harry Potter. All rights to the characters and universe the story belongs in belong to JK Rowling

Reviews welcome. Any advice to help me improve would be brilliant. I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Chapter 11 - The Diary

After a brilliant weekend of weather, Monday brought Britain back to reality with its usual drab and dreary grey skies. Braving the spitting rain, and threat of a heavier downpour, Harry strode down Diagon Alley towards Ollivander's wand shop.

Despite getting his own wand from Ollivander, he had never actually set foot in the shop, the eery shop keeper made a rare house call. Actually, Harry proved to be a rather awkward customer, so Ollivander had to make multiple visits. The curious thing was that every time he had come back he was even more excited than the last time, the man really did enjoy a challenge.

A bell rang as he entered the shop, he closed the door behind him and stood in the dusty waiting area before a large counter. He was just about to call out when an old, wizened, man stepped out from the back room.

His curious gaze past over Harry, making him shiver involuntarily. Ollivander smiled crookedly. 'I never thought I would see you in my shop. I hope the wand I sold to you is still in working order. Although!' He said sharply. 'If rumours are true, maybe it shouldn't be.'

'What rumours?' Asked Harry, curiosity getting the better of him.

'I once told you that the owner of your wand's brother had done great things, terrible, but great. The rumour is that you have now strayed down that path.'

'If I had, do you really think I would be visiting in the middle of the day? That wasn't really Riddle's style.'

'Maybe not.' Mused the old man. 'How may I be of service?'

'Can you identify this wand and its former owner?' Harry produced the wand of the assassin who killed Claire Marshgrave.

'Why do you ask?' Asked Ollivander, taking the wand and running a practiced eye over the wood.

'I need to find his former employer. Knowing his real name would help. So far I have two names, Mitroglou and Belreaper. Neither of which are giving me anything.'

'Sycamore, eight inches, unicorn hair.' Reeled off Ollivander. 'Nice and sturdy, well looked after, yet shrouded in darkness. Curious.'

The wand maker studied his old creation in silence. Biting back his impatience, Harry waited for the man to speak.

'I'm surprised you didn't recognise the man, from what I remember he looks a lot like his father.'

'He did?' Asked Harry surprised, the mans face had never triggered any recognition for him so who could it be?

'Hmm.' Hummed Ollivander. 'The man's name is Marcus Dolohov.' He said, handing the wand back to Harry.

'Antoine Dolohov's son?'

'The very same.'

'Thank you for your help, I'll leave you in peace.' He turned to leave, as he reached for the handle, Ollivander spoke once more.

'The attacks must be stopped Mr Potter, I'm sorry such a burden rests on your shoulders again, you deserve better from our world.'

Harry half turned towards him, smiling wryly. 'That's from a man who believes the rumours floating around about my involvement.'

Ollivander chuckled. 'I merely heard them Mr Potter, I never said anything about believing them.'

Shaking his head at the old man's oddity, Harry left the shop and walked towards Gringotts bank. The large pearly white building stood at the end of the alley, with great pillars supporting the grand porch above the entrance.

As always the doors were guarded by particularly mean looking goblins, looking for any potential thieves with a menacing gleam in their eye. It was almost as if they wanted someone to try and rob them, like they wanted the sport.

Slightly nodding his head as he past, Harry walked through the expansive wooden doors which opened before him, into the bank's foyer. Either side of him were two rows of goblins, some were counting gold, whilst others served the few customers that had already made it o the bank.

Noticing a free Goblin, Harry stepped up to the counter. 'Good Morning.' He said friendly. He didn't wait for a response knowing that one wouldn't be forthcoming. 'I have a meeting with Mr Weasley.'

'Very well.' Said the Goblin tersely. 'Take a seat in the waiting area and I will tell Mr Weasley you are here.'

There were twelve wonky looking chairs in the corner of the room with a small coffee table between them. Harry sat in one of the chairs and watched in growing impatience as the goblin he had spoken to sat there doing nothing at all.

Ten minutes later, Harry was still watching the goblin, who was now sitting with a satisfied smirk, having not moved a muscle.

Finally, the goblin hopped off his stool and disappeared into the back. Whilst staring at the door the goblin had disappeared behind, Harry was startled by a voice to his left. 'Harry there you are! I was beginning to worry.' Greeted Bill.

Harry jumped up. 'Sorry Bill, I thought the goblin that served me was going to let you know I had arrived.'

'No to worry, he was probably in a vindictive mood, not really worth the argument to be honest. Follow me.'

Bill led him out of the foyer and up a large staircase towards the offices on the top floors. They wound their way through the maze of corridors before finally stopping outside of a door with a sign that read "Bill Weasley. Head Curse Breaker."

The office was luxurious inside. A large window showed a view of all Diagon Alley, a large desk stood before it with a comfortable looking chair on the other side and there were two leather chairs for guests to sit on.

Gesturing to the guest chairs, Bill sat down behind the desk. Harry was just making himself comfortable when a cup of coffee floated towards him.

'Thanks.' He said taking the cup.

'No problem, now how can I help Harry?'

'If you can, I need some investigation work done.'

'Ok.'

'I could do with the account records for a Marcus Dolohov, particularly people who have been paying him.'

Bill winced. 'I don't think I can get that. Goblins don't release records of living customers easily. The only reason it would be released would be in the event of his death, the legal department in the Ministry would get a copy and his family would get the other.'

'if they're so secretive, why do the legal team at the ministry get a copy?'

'To check the will can be carried out. Even then I don't think they get information on transactions in and from the account. It's more a summary of goods. How do you think so many Death Eater families retained their wealth?'

'It's a good point.' Sighed Harry. 'Is there any way?'

'You could request the accounts as the account holder, or the ministry could if there was no next of kin.'

'Bollocks.' Muttered Harry. 'Where are the records kept?'

'In a vault, an old one, I'm not even sure of the number. As far as I know only goblins can get in.' On seeing Harry's serious expression, he groaned and buried his head in his hands. 'Please tell me you're not thinking of breaking in there.'

'I've done it before.'

'That was different and the goblins are still pissed about it. You're lucky they didn't close your account, if Voldemort hadn't killed so many goblins they would have been after your head.'

'They wouldn't be the first.'

'You're incorrigible. It won't work Harry, security has increased tenfold since then. The vaults all react when anyone who is imperised or polyjuiced approaches, it was impossible before, now it's more than that.'

'Could you at least get me the account details so I could pay in?'

'Yeah possibly, why?'

'I wonder, if Harry potter were to make a payment into the account, who would go looking into it.'

Bill leaned back in his chair to stare at the ceiling, silently considering the possibility. 'That could work. I know one of the goblins in security, he would let me know if anyone accesses the account.'

'Brilliant. Find out his details and we'll go from there.'

Later that evening Harry was sitting in his study analysing the diary. He had started by going over the days where he knew certain events had taken place, the first one being the killing of the government agent.

When he looked closely, it was all in dummy Latin text. It was unreadable and didn't mean anything. Entries repeated themselves throughout the week. So, Harry knew there was no point getting an expert in, there was nothing to translate.

'What the hell?' he muttered to himself. Flipping through the pages, he turned to the date he had killed Marcus Dolohov and was surprised to see the same Latin script.

'I hate magic.' He groaned, pushing the diary away from him.

He stood up and paced the room aimlessly with his hands on his hips. He had no way of decoding the diary now, even using a memory he would only have one sample to go off. He was certain he could guess the symbols, a scythe didn't leave much to the imagination, and for some reason farming didn't fit the bill.

The trouble was guessing names and places, without some form of decoding he had no chance. Surely, they aren't just working off initials and symbols, it would be a disaster.

His musings were interrupted by the diary suddenly flashing a bright blue, without thinking he picked it up automatically. Of its own accord the diary flipped open and the pages were opened as if someone was ruefully flicking through them. They landed on two days from today. Graceful handwriting started to appear on the pages, penning a new diary entry. "DA" and "WWW" initials appeared along with a lightning bolt.

What did a lightning bolt mean? Did this have something to do with the fake Potter?

Harry wasn't sure, to try and gain more answers he flipped further into the future. All the entries were empty apart from one - July 31st. All that was marked there was a lightning bolt. What has my birthday got to do with anything?

It wasn't exactly a special day in the wizarding world, he didn't even really celebrate it. All that usually happened was that he would spend the day with Tonks and Teddy, which is what he normally did anyway.

'Harry, are you in here?' Asked Mr Weasley, knocking on the door.

Smiling, Harry stood up and opened the door. 'Hi Arthur, is everything ok?'

'Yeah, Molly just told me to tell you dinner is almost ready.'

'Is it that time all ready?' Asked Harry disorientated.

Mr Weasley chuckled. 'Yeah it is, working hard?'

'Yeah sorry, I lost track of time.' The two of them walked back down the stairs towards the kitchen.

'I would just like to say how grateful I am for taking us in. It means a lot.' Mr Weasley told him seriously.

'It's no problem, it's really the least I could do. I'm sorry we couldn't stop them from burning the Burrow down.'

Mr Weasley clapped him on the shoulder. 'That wasn't your fault, although I think you gave Ginny a bit of a scare when you didn't come back. She was furious with you.'

'So, I heard.' Said Harry wryly.

'I've not seen her that annoyed with anyone for a long time, then you did something else.' Mr Weasley's eyes sparkled with amusement as he spoke. 'I'm sorry we were so hard on you whilst you two weren't speaking. It wasn't any of our business.'

'It's ok.' Sighed Harry. 'To be honest she's in the right.'

'What happened if you don't mind me asking?'

'I'm,' Harry hesitated, he liked all the Weasleys and having them around for so long, he had gotten to know Arthur and Molly rather well. Deciding he would at least trust the man with the reason for the argument, if not the reason itself, Harry continued. 'I know something, a secret that I don't tell anyone. Only certain people know.

'I asked Ginny to help me with a case I'm working on because I think it's tied to the people who attacked the Burrow. When she realised I was hiding something she demanded, quite rightly, to know what it was. I'm not ready to tell yet though, so she refused to work with me.'

'I see, I take it Bill and Tonks know, considering she avoided them too.'

'Well Tonks knew before it was a secret, and Bill guessed. We knew each other during the war, although I haven't seen him since. The only one to blame is me, Bill and Tonks would tell in a heartbeat.'

Mr Weasley eyed the young man wearily, they had paused at the top of the stairs leading down to the kitchen. 'Why don't you want to say? It can't be that bad.'

'It depends what people believe.' Said Harry shrugging. 'It just needs to stay secret. I don't think Ginny would tell anyone willingly, however for the Auror investigation to go efficiently, it would eventually come to light. Then all hell would break loose.'

'Why?'

'Let's just say it would give the Ministry a martyr to blame all these attacks on.'

Arthur raised his eyebrows. 'Maybe if you let her in, Ginny would help you keep it a secret and still push the Aurors on.'

'Maybe, maybe.' Muttered Harry.

'Arthur, are you coming?' Shouted Mrs Weasley from down the kitchen.

'Come on, we best not keep them waiting.' Said Mr Weasley, patting Harry on the shoulder.

They walked down the stairs towards the light chattering from the kitchen table. Once inside Harry sniffed the air appreciatively. 'This smells really good Molly.'

'Thank you dear.' She said, as she pottered about the various pots and pans on the stove so she was ready to start serving her spaghetti bolognaise. 'Wash your hands, I'm just dishing up.' Dutifully doing what he was told, Harry then left the sink and sat in his spot next to Ginny.

She didn't say anything or even move when he sat down, just continued staring at the table in front of her with her eyes glazed over. One palm was acting as a rest for her cheek, whilst her other hand, drew random imaginary patterns on the tabletop.

'You ok? You look tired?' Asked Harry. She didn't respond. 'Ginny?' he prodded.

Ginny jerked at the sound of her name. 'What?' She asked blankly.

'You ok?'

'Yeah, fine.' She sighed distractedly.

'Someone on your mind Ginny dear?' Asked Mrs Weasley inquisitively.

'No.' Ginny hmphed. 'I've had enough after the last one.'

'Dean's lovely, I still don't know why you ditched him.'

'He was a prat that's why.' Ginny told her mother irritably. 'All he wanted me to do was stay at home and do all his bleeding cleaning for him, whilst he worked on his art.' She added the last word sarcastically.

'He was good for you.' Insisted Mrs Weasley, passing the plates along. If it wasn't for the slight twinkle, akin to the one he had seen in the twins' eyes, Harry would have thought she was being serious.

'Was he balls.'

Tonks snorted.

'I was just a trophy to him.' Continued Ginny.

'What about that nice fellow at work then? Neville, is it?' Mrs Weasley inquired.

'Oh yeah he's lovely.' Tonks chipped in happily. 'Great guy.' For some reason Harry couldn't help feeling rather annoyed at Tonks, for complementing a potential boyfriend, the glare he shot his sister wasn't missed by Andromeda.

'Yes, he is but I'm still not interested. I keep telling you I'm not looking for a boyfriend!' Exclaimed Ginny.

'Who's the lucky girl then?' Smirked Mrs Weasley, Harry choked on the bite he had just taken, causing his eyes to water.

Teddy nonchalantly leaned up and patted him on the back. 'You ok uncle Harry?' Harry nodded weakly.

'I'm not looking for a girlfriend either mum.' Said Ginny rolling her eyes. 'It's just been a long day at work, there was another attack.'

'Are you hurt?' Asked Harry, concerned. She was like him in that she didn't like seeking medical attention.

'I'm fine.' Ginny told him, waving off the question. 'Just a little tired.'

After they had all finished eating, Ginny excused herself and went to watch some tv upstairs. It wasn't long after that Harry left as well. He walked up the stairs and peaked into the living room.

The tv was switched on, however the person watching it, definitely wasn't. Soft snores could be heard from the young redhead on the sofa, her head was lolled to the side, as she sat slumped in the chair.

You can't sleep here. Thought Harry, switching off the tv with the remote. Briefly, he considered going to get Bill, before waving the idea away. It was no trouble for him to take her to bed.

Gently, he lifted her up into his arms and carried out of the door and back up the stairs. He was extra carful to avoid hitting her head on the walls and doorframe as he went. Opening her bedroom door, proved difficult, Harry still managed to persevere though.

Stepping into the one of many dull spare rooms in the house, Harry cautiously lowered her into the bed and tucked her in. Noticing Ginny's hair obscured face was turned towards him, Harry gently brushed the hair away revealing her pale face.

Teddy got it wrong, she's not pretty, she's beautiful. As he went to leave the room, Ginny's face contorted in pain, and she started murmuring lowly. He gingerly stroked her hair and caressed her cheek as she started to shake.

Lowering his voice, so it was nought but a whisper, Harry started to talk in her ear like Sirius used to for him. 'It's ok Ginny you're safe. No one can harm you here.'

'Not my fault.' She slurred in her sleep. 'Riddle made me.' A single tear dropped down the side of her face.

Harry hastily wiped it away. 'It's ok you're not being blamed for anything I promise.' Harry felt like he'd already had a similar conversation to this, for now the memory eluded him.

'I really didn't mean too I'm so sorry to the people I hurt.'

'You didn't hurt anyone Ginny, it wasn't your fault.' At those words she started to settle down. 'It's going to be ok, you need to rest.'

Subconsciously, she reached up to take a hold of Harry's hand on her cheek. 'Stay with me?' She asked, still fully asleep.

'I'll be here.' He whispered, the memory coming back to him in crystal clarity.

He could remember being in a grimy, underground sewer, holding a crying young girl in his arms. He was covered in blood and held the sword of Gryffindor in his hand. Lying on the ground next to them, at the feet of Salazar Slytherin's statue, was a dead fifty-foot basilisk and a diary.

The girl from the chamber of secrets has certainly grown up.

Slowly, Ginny's breathing returned to normal and her hand went limp, releasing his from her grasp. Without planning it, Harry leaned down to place a small kiss on her forehead. After that he turned away from her to leave the room, so he missed the small smile that graced her in sleep.

Quietly he closed the door to her room behind him, as soon as the latch clicked, a voice made him jump in surprise. 'I'm glad to see you've found something worth fighting for.'

'Wh-what do you mean?' Harry asked the intruder shakily.

Andromeda laughed lightly. 'You're allowed to feel.' She walked past him, patting him on the cheek compassionately as she went.

What is she on about? Thought Harry as he watched her disappear up the stairs.