Several days passed before Harry looked at the sword. Life in Privet Drive had not changed at all, except for the fact that Dudley (and himself by extension) was allowed to go out more, both during the day and in the evenings. Harry tried to spend as much time out of the house as possible, and the knowledge that he only had to spend four weeks there was very comforting. The issue of the sword, however, was not. Harry knew very well that he should not have been poking around such a potentially dangerous area as the Chamber of Secrets, and that to have taken something as old and valuable as the sword belonging to Salazar Slytherin was outright theft. Harry knew he had behaved badly, yet was unsure of the best way of making up for his deed. Should he just send the sword to Dumbledore anonymously, or tell Sirius, let him decide what to do? Harry did what he always did when in doubt - wrote to Draco.
Dear Draco,
How are you? I'm OK here so far this year. Now I am fully trained, they are even more scared of me than they were before, and the fact that I am nearly eighteen gets me some freedom too. I spend most of my time lurking in cafes and bars, keeping out of the house. If you know of any wizard pubs or bars or something in this area, could you tell me? My knowledge of Muggle current events is rubbish so I'm nervous of talking to people, and I'm running out of Muggle money as well.
Having said that things are fine, I do have a problem. On the last night of school, I went to say goodbye to all the places that I have special memories of. In one of them, I found something quite old, and probably very valuable. I should have given it straight to Professor Dumbledore, but I hid it in my trunk and brought it home with me. I feel really guilty about it, but I don't know what to do. I basically stole it, and I want to make it right but I don't know how. I'd rather not tell you what it was or where I found it - it was most definitely somewhere I should not have been and I am ashamed. All I can say is, it is old, probably valuable and nobody knows I have it. Sorry to bother you about this, but I'm afraid to tell Sirius and there isn't really anyone else I can talk to.
Lots of love
Harry
Harry read the letter over. He really didn't want to confess to anyone that he had stolen the sword of Salazar Slytherin from the Chamber of Secrets, but he felt guilty for not telling Draco the whole story.
'He may have ideas anyway. I can't tell him exactly what I've done, so either ask his advice like this or don't ask it at all!' Harry told himself firmly. He stood for a moment, then fastened the letter to Hedwig's leg and sent her to deliver it.
Draco wrote back quickly, much to Harry's relief.
Dear Harry,
I'll talk about this object first, since I know you won't read anything else I have to say properly until I've assuaged your guilt! The way I see it, the most important question is whether anyone will miss it. If no one knows you have it, and no one will miss it then there is no point getting yourself into trouble by returning it. Another aspect to consider is, if they do miss it, will they know it was you who took it? My initial answer from what you've told me is to hang onto it and hope no one traces it to you. If you think the chances are that they will trace it to you, then return it quickly - it makes it look as if it was a mistake, not anything else. I can't give you any more advice because I don't know what it is or where you found it. I'm intrigued now though - won't you tell me?
I'm sorry to hear about those Muggles. I would say hex them, but you don't want to risk more trouble. How long is it until you move into your flat in London?
On the topic of wizard pubs, you could try The Wand and Whistle on Mulberry Street. That's not too dodgy, you should be OK there.
I really miss you.
Love,
Draco
Harry re-read Draco's letter several times, trying to get it straight in his mind. No one would miss the sword as far as he knew. No one but a Parselmouth could get into the Chamber of Secrets, no one had been in but Tom Riddle, Ginny and himself since the Chamber was made. Ginny couldn't get back in on her own, and hadn't gone that far in anyway. The only one who might know that there should be a sword there was Voldemort, but he couldn't get back to check and discover its absence. Harry should be quite safe hanging onto the sword for a little while. He could give it back to Dumbledore when he next saw him, which would probably be fairly soon. There was no need to make a great fuss, even Draco thought so. Harry nodded to himself, relieved to have justified his possession of the sword for a while. He carefully did not consider why he wanted to keep the sword, but sat down and wrote a letter to Draco thanking him for his advice which had helped him to make a decision. Harry sent Hedwig off with the letter, then headed downstairs. Dudley was eating at the table. He had actually managed to slim down a bit, and was (to Harry's mingled surprise and disgust) not bad looking in a huge sort of way.
"What are you doing?" asked Dudley. Aunt Petunia was nowhere to be seen. Harry assumed she and Uncle Vernon must have gone shopping.
"Getting something to eat." he retorted shortly.
"You aren't allowed to do that." said Dudley, looking mean.
"Whether your parents like it or not, I live here, and am therefore entitled to some food."
"I'll tell Mum."
"Don't be pathetic Dudley. You're eighteen years old; try to act like it." Harry walked over to the fridge and started to make himself a cheese sandwich.
"What are you going to do today?" asked his cousin. Harry felt surprised, and suspicious. Dudley now sounded almost friendly. What was going on?
"Check out a pub on Mulberry Street my friend told me about."
"What do you normally do?"
"Sit in some Muggle cafe and try to make two cups of coffee last all day. In this place, I'll actually have some money."
"You lot have special pubs then?"
"Yes" said Harry, sitting down opposite his cousin and starting on the cheese sandwich.
"We have everything you have, but it's hidden. There are loads of special places Muggles can't get into, like the place in London where I buy my school stuff and the platform I go to school from."
"Why do you hide them?"
"If everyone knew about us, they'd want us to solve their problems for them, and that's not how it should be, so we hide. Besides, Muggles don't like us much. Don't you know about the witch-burnings in the Middle Ages?"
"Things'd be different now, wouldn't they?"
"I doubt it. Your parents hate me because I'm a wizard don't they? And some people at school hate all Muggles, and anyone descended from Muggles. My friend Hermione got a lot of stick from them because both her parents were Muggles."
"I suppose." Dudley fell silent, continued eating.
"Why the sudden interest anyway?" Harry asked, getting up to wash up his plate. "You've never shown any interest in me or my people before, so why now? Is there something you want me to do for you?"
"Well," began Dudley. "There is this girl I like.."
"Oh no," said Harry. "I am not making you any sort of love potion Dudley. No way. Nah uh."
"Oh come on Harry," said Dudley in a wheedling tone of voice. "Please."
"No. Love Potions are restricted anyway. I've never even made one, and I think they're wrong anyhow."
"Isn't there some sort of potion or spell or something I could use to see if she likes me?"
"No." said Harry resignedly. "Dudley, I can't help you."
"I bet you're lying." said Dudley angrily, pushing his hair away from the table and getting to his feet. 'Oh crap.' thought Harry. Although both boys were the same height now, Dudley was built on a much burlier scale than Harry and probably outweighed him by several stone.
"I really can't help you. I'd go to prison!" he said, moving swiftly towards the door while keeping the table between himself and Dudley. 'If I fight with him, I'll probably be kicked out. Damn and blast!'
"I'm sorry if this girl doesn't like you, but there's nothing I can do." he continued, reaching out to open the door. "I can't help you for two reasons, it's against wizarding law and I don't know how. OK? I'm sorry, but that's how it is." Harry opened the door and began to go through it.
"Liar," his cousin's voice hissed after him. "You'll be sorry for that Harry,"
"I'm sorry I couldn't help you." said Harry, and headed for his room. 'That's all I need,' he thought gloomily. "I'd best make sure to lock all my stuff up when I'm not here.' The thought did not fill him with joy. He sighed as he walked into his room. For a minute he thought he had gone back in time. Pigwidgeon was flying round the room, twittering excitedly and occasionally bumping into the lightshade.
"Pig!" he exclaimed, extending his hand to the tiny owl. "Come here boy!" The little ball fluttered over. Harry grabbed him gently and removed the letter from his leg. Taking the little owl over to Hedwig's empty cage he put him down next to the water dish. The little owl took a couple of sips, ate an owl treat, then fluffed up his feathers importantly before going to sleep. Harry shrugged, and turned the letter to the back to see ho had written to him.
'Ginny, of course,' he thought, a strange emotion stealing over him.
"You didn't half give me a fright" he said fondly to Pig. "For a moment there, I thought Ron was writing to me from beyond the grave." He lay down on his bed to read the letter. Ginny had written him a long letter, full of family news and jokes, as well as funny stories about each family member. It was just what Harry needed to cheer him up and he read it happily, resolving to write back to Ginny that evening, after checking out the pub. The slamming of a door downstairs alerted him to the fact his uncle and aunt were back. He tucked the letters from Ginny and Draco into his pocket to read later, took some wizard gold from his trunk and headed downstairs and out of the front door.
The rest of that week, and the week after it, passed almost without incident. Dudley had reverted to his usual nasty self, and seemed to have forgotten his threat to make Harry sorry. Harry had found the pub much to his liking and had begun to think of it as a second home. He wrote to Draco a lot, as both knew that they wouldn't be able to write once Harry went to stay with the Weasleys. Harry also wrote to Ginny, with whom he was keeping up a steady correspondence. Harry got the feeling she was lonely now that Percy and the twins were away most of the time. He made sure to write back as quickly as he could. He had now almost got used to the sight of Pigwidgeon fluttering through his window, though he still felt a pang whenever he saw the little owl. Harry was very careful not to mention that he was still in touch with anyone else. He had never told Ginny about Sirius, and he wasn't sure what she knew of the war. For his part, both Sirius and Remus wrote him a great many letters, keeping him up to date on what was going on. Draco's carefully worded letters told him a little more, and Harry felt he knew quite a lot about what was happening in the wizarding world.
Harry was looking forward to his visit to the Weasleys much more now, though he was dreading being there without Ron. But the days passed quickly, and before he knew it he was standing in the Weasley kitchen, being hugged tightly by Mrs Weasley.
"Hello Harry," she said thickly, releasing him and fumbling for a handkerchief. Harry found to his amazement that his own cheeks were wet. "It's so good to see you again dear. It's been too long."
"I agree," said Harry. "I'm sorry," he said, not knowing how to express what he was feeling, just knowing that he had to say something.
"You mustn't blame yourself Harry," said Mrs Weasley in horror. "It was not your fault, it wasn't anybody's."
"Perhaps we should talk about this later," interjected Mr Weasley. "Let Harry get settled in first,"
"Yes, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to talk about this now."
"We've put you in Percy's old room." said Mr Weasley. "He won't be home, and we didn't think you'd like to go in Ron's room."
"Percy's room sounds good," said Harry.
"Let me show you where it is," said Ginny quickly. Harry nodded gratefully at her and followed her up the stairs.
"Here you go," she said, leading him into a room that was slightly larger than Ron's, and certainly much neater.
"I hope my coming here hasn't upset your mum too much," said Harry, putting his trunk at the bottom of the bed and turning to look at Ginny.
"She's talked about nothing else for the last three weeks," said Ginny dryly. "She's always been fond of you, you know that."
"Yes, but.." Harry let his voice trail off, not sure how to say what he was thinking.
"You think you remind her of Ron?" said Ginny gently. "Of course you do, how could you not, but it's been over two years now and we've all begun to move on."
"Perhaps I should have come sooner then," said Harry gloomily, turning away from her to look out of the window.
"Don't avoid the issue!" said Ginny directly, but not harshly. "Ron's dead, and we've all had to accept that, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't talk about him. She'll want to, and you'd best be prepared for that."
"I know." said Harry softly. He heard Ginny turn and move towards the door.
"Gin?" he said uncertainly, the pressure of his secret feeling like a lead weight in his stomach.
"Yes?" she asked, an almost eager note in her voice. Harry hesitated, then his nerve failed him.
"Nothing, it's OK."
"I'll come back in half an hour when you've settled in a bit. We can play Quidditch or something if you like."
"Yeah, that'd be nice." said Harry, inwardly berating himself for not telling Ginny everything now. He heard the door close behind her and clenched his fists at his sides.
"Stupid." he said out loud. "Stupid, stupid, stupid." His face screwed into a frown of frustration he turned and flopped down on the bed.
"It doesn't have to be a secret any more." he told himself. "You could tell her. You can trust her."
"Soon." he promised himself. "You can tell her soon." With a sigh he got up off the bed and began to look for his Quidditch stuff. As he did so, his hand brushed against the sword hidden at the bottom of his trunk.
Harry settled in nicely at the Weasleys. The awkward atmosphere lessened after a few days, and they talked easily of Ron, remembering the good times they'd had. Harry noticed that they avoided the subject of Ron's last term. He supposed that that was only natural, and that Ginny had told them all she knew anyway. For some reason, the idea of visiting Ron's room was growing in Harry's mind. It had come to him on the first morning, and though he tried to push it away as morbid and strange, the desire was growing stronger. The day before he was supposed to leave, he mentioned it to Ginny. The two had been practising Quidditch in fresh evening air and had stopped for a rest.
"Gin?" he asked casually.
"Yes?" she responded lazily, enjoying the warmth of the evening sun on her back.
"Do you think I could look in Ron's room?"
Ginny rolled over to look at him, pulling herself into a sitting position.
"I don't see why not." she said easily. "Shall we go now? We've got half an hour before tea."
"Won't your mum mind?" asked Harry nervously, looking surprised at how easy it had been.
"No, and she's making tea now anyway. She probably won't even notice." Harry still looked unsure, and Ginny smiled at him. "Come on, let's go now."
Harry took a deep breath and stood up. The two walked back to the house in silence and made their way to Ron's bedroom. Ginny went in first, holding the door open for Harry. Harry stepped in quietly and closed it behind him. The room didn't look like a room belonging to someone who was dead. The Chudley Cannon posters were still on the wall, Ron's trunk was placed neatly at the end of his bed, his broomstick propped carelessly in the corner. The sunlight slanting across the neatly made-up bed gave an air of life to the room, and if Harry hadn't known better he would have thought that his friend had just stepped out for a minute. He swallowed away a lump in his throat and stared around it again. Now he could see the small signs that this room was unoccupied. It was tidier than it had been when he had seen it (though that could have been because there was no camp-bed set up in the corner for him to sleep on) and the bed itself was much neater than it would have been had Ron left it. The posters were all out of date.
"OK?" asked Ginny softly. The sound of her voice made Harry jump.
"I suppose," he whispered.
"Why are you whispering?" she asked quietly. "Mum won't be able to hear us anyway, and she wouldn't mind if she did."
"It just doesn't seem right to talk loudly." he said uncertainly. His gaze was drawn to the trunk. Ginny followed his line of sight.
"That hasn't been opened since he died, as far as I know." she said softly. "I think they took his clothes out, but that's all."
There was a long pause, as both of them stood looking at the trunk.
"Should we open it?" asked Ginny. Now she was whispering too. "There might be clues in there." Harry nodded.
"Do you think it's right?" he whispered back. "Going through his things doesn't seem fair somehow, even if he is dead." His mind was drawn back to the sword in his own trunk, the letter from Draco hidden beneath it.
"Someone will look eventually." she said uncertainly. "We'll need the trunk or the room or something. We're not snooping, we want to know what happened."
"I hope you're right." said Harry. He knew they would open the trunk, had known they would as soon as he had seen it in the room. He walked over to it and gently lifted the lid.
Ginny came over hesitantly, knelt on the floor next to Harry in front of the trunk.
"It looks very empty without his clothes." she said blankly, staring at the jumble of objects in the bottom of the trunk. Ron's school books were gone too, and all that was left inside the huge trunk were a jumble of personal artefacts - a handful of Chocolate Frog cards, a framed picture of Hermione, another of himself and Harry, a book about the Chudley Cannons, a couple of comics and three spiral-bound notebooks. These Harry lifted out uncertainly.
"I wonder what these are," he said, a suspicion forming in his mind. He opened one, looking inside it.
"His diary," said Ginny gently. Harry shut it quickly, a knot of fear forming in his stomach as he realised what these books could contain. Throughout his stay he had refused to discuss his partner, his fear of what Ginny would say if she knew he was gay and in love with the boy who's father was her family's sworn enemy being too much to surmount. The habit of secrecy he had got into after hiding his romance for two years had proved too strong to break, and Harry didn't think he could cope with her reaction if she found out all the details of his argument with Ron.
"I didn't know he kept a diary," he said, staring at the small book in his hands; the book that contained the secrets of Ron's last year and the events leading up to his death.
"Gin, I can't read it." he said, coming to a quick decision. "It's his diary, it's private,"
"I know what you mean, but Harry, we must!" said Ginny urgently. "This could tell us what we need to know." Her face was flushed red, her eyes full of emotion. Harry was reminded forcibly that this was her brother who had died, and that Ginny needed answers, probably more than he did as to how her brother had died, answers that this diary quite probably contained.
"Ginny, I can't," he said, listening in amazement to the words coming out of his mouth. "It wasn't written for anyone to read, it's his most private and secret possession. I can't violate his privacy by reading it."
"But Harry," Ginny began.
"Harry! Ginny! Supper's ready!"
"Come on, we'd better go," said Harry. Ginny nodded, her face flushed.
"This isn't the end of this," she said softly. "We need to talk about this more." She watched him as he put the books back into the trunk and closed the lid gently. Her eyes seemed full of disappointment and betrayal, and Harry squirmed as he followed her down the stairs, knowing would he was going to do was unforgivable by any standards, but seeing no alternative other than risk Ginny find out the truth, something he could barely even contemplate. He wished Draco was here, that his boyfriend could help him with this decision.
Tea was a jolly meal which lasted for a long time, and there was not time or opportunity before Harry and Ginny went to bed to discuss the matter of the diaries any further. Harry knew there would be no time in the morning. He was to meet Sirius in Diagon Alley at ten o'clock, and they would go to his new flat while the Weasleys bought Ginny's school things. He and Ginny would have little chance for a private chat, and once he had gone..
When he was sure that everyone was in bed, Harry carefully got out of bed and went over to his trunk, removing the Invisibility Cloak and wrapping it around himself. He knew what he was doing was wrong, but he couldn't risk Ginny getting the diaries. He positioned a pillow in the bed so that if Ginny should have decided to creep in and discuss this while her parents were asleep she would not immediately see that his bed was unoccupied. He hoped she wouldn't, but the pillow might buy him valuable time. Creeping over to the door he opened it just wide enough for him to squeeze through and pushed it to carefully, making sure that the door did not click shut. Harry moved stealthily up the stairs, using his years of creeping around after lights-out to his full advantage. He was glad to see that there was no light under Ginny's door, and gladder still to see that there was no light under the door of the room which had been Ron's. He pushed it open quietly, hoping that it wouldn't creak. The room was bathed in moonlight, and Harry pulled the door to slightly before moving hurriedly over to the trunk. His heart was beating like a drum, he knew that this wasn't right and yet he was still doing it.
'I guess it's a slippery slope.' he thought sarcastically as he gently opened the trunk. 'First the sword, now this.' He reached into the trunk and removed the three spiral-bound notebooks, slipping them underneath his Cloak and rummaging through the loose papers scattered at the bottom of the trunk.
'I hope there's nothing else important in there,' he thought, removing his hand and closing the lid of the trunk gently. He looked around the room, cast into eerily sharp relief by the moonlight.
"I'm sorry Ron," he whispered, tears beginning to run down his face as he stared at the room which had belonged to his best friend with his stolen diaries close against his body. "I'm really sorry," He stood for a moment, allowing the tears to flow unchecked down his face, before turning and making his silent way back to his room, where he hid the diaries with the letters from Draco before climbing into his now-cold bed and crying himself to sleep.
The next morning, Harry didn't feel at all refreshed by his night's sleep. The thought of the diaries lurking at the bottom of his trunk meant that he could not enjoy the hasty breakfast and cheerful atmosphere of his last morning at the Weasleys. He managed to avoid letting Ginny catch him alone, hoping that she hadn't realised that that was what he was trying to do, but knowing she had. He heaved a sigh of relief when he was finally standing in Diagon Alley and saw Padfoot coming towards him.
"Well, thanks very much for having me. I had a great time." he said, turning to Mrs Weasley, who pulled him into a tight hug.
"Any time Harry dear, it's been lovely seeing you again," she said.
"Don't forget to keep in touch," added Mr Weasley.
"Yeah," agreed Ginny, hugging Harry awkwardly.
"I will," Harry promised. Padfoot appeared by his side and wagged his tail gratefully at the Weasleys.
"Well, bye then," said Harry. He turned and began to manoeuvre his trunk though the crowds until they were back in Muggle London. Sirius had acquired a small car, and while Harry loaded his trunk into the back of it, Sirius transformed back into himself.
"Did you have a nice time?" he asked as they drove towards Harry's new home.
"It was great thanks," said Harry. "A bit strange without Ron, but still."
"The rest of the summer go OK?"
"Yes, well, not really but better than usual. But enough about me, how are you?"
Sirius launched into a quick account of the summer's events which were too important to be trusted to letters and Harry listened intently, pushing the thought of the stolen diaries to the back of his mind. Eventually they pulled up in front of a block of flats.
"We're on the top floor, I'm afraid, but it comes ready furnished so it's cheaper."
"It's OK," said Harry. "This looks fine." Sirius showed Harry which bedroom was going to be his, then left him to settle in while he went to make them a meal. Harry enjoyed arranging his few personal belongings out over a whole room and getting himself moved in - it took his mind off the diaries and the sword, both of which weighed heavily on his conscience. When Sirius called he went quickly into the main room where they passed a happy evening. He went to bed early however, saying that he was tired. Sirius accepted this, and Harry locked his door carefully before opening his trunk and pulling out the sword he had stolen from the Chamber of Secrets.
'Is this sword having a bad influence on me?' he wondered, staring at the jewel-encrusted hilt. 'Did it somehow make me steal the diaries from Ron's trunk?' He stood there, feeling the heft of it in his hand and making a couple of passes at the air, fencing an unseen enemy for a while before sheathing the sword again. In an attempt to delay facing the diaries, he sat down to write a letter to Draco.
'Dear Draco,
How are you? I've moved into the flat in London with Sirius now. It's small, but I've never had a bedroom completely to myself before that I can arrange how I like. Sirius has agreed to let me have a new carpet, as this one is pale pink! I had a good time at the Weasleys with Ginny. None of the older ones were there, so it was just us most of the time. I really missed you though. Is there any way you can get to London without making your parents, especially your father, suspicious? I really need to see you. I know you'll be able to help me. I told you in an earlier letter about the sword I stole from Hogwarts, but now I've stolen something much worse. On the last full day at the Weasleys, Ginny and I went into Ron's room, and we found his diaries for the last year of his life. I knew there'd be stuff about us in there, things I haven't told Ginny or even hinted about, so I said I felt wrong about reading Ron's diaries, even if they do have the answers she wants. We had to go for dinner then, and we didn't have time to discuss it that night. While everyone else was asleep, I sneaked upstairs and stole the diaries from his trunk. I haven't told Ginny what I've done, and I feel terrible about it. I mean, that would be the easiest way for her to find out about us, she really needs answers about her brother's death and I have stolen them from her. I've done a horrible, cruel thing, and I dread to think what will happen when Ginny finds out what I've done. I really need to see you - you always know how to make me feel better. Do you think she can ever forgive me?
I'm sorry, this wasn't supposed to be a complaining letter. I've been unable to write to you for so long, I've spent ages planning what I'd say, but somehow I haven't said any of it. I love you Draco. Write to me soon.
All my love,
Harry'
Harry stared at the letter for a minute before attaching it to Hedwig's leg and sending her out to Draco. He watched until she was out of sight, and then, unable to put it off any longer, reached for the diaries. He opened the first one, and began to read, devouring the details of Ron's life that Ron had thought significant enough to record. As he read, his sense of unease grew. He finished the first book and tossed it aside, reaching for the second, and then the third. Every entry was dated, and while Ron certainly seemed unhappy about Hermione's death and the Malfoy situation, he did not seem nearly unhappy enough to want to kill himself. Ron's entries spoke of the wall between himself and Harry over the issue of Malfoy which he did not dare try and cross, Ron's certainty that Malfoy was using Harry for some unfathomable purpose, the gap in his life where Hermione had been as well as the random day-to-day events of school life, but his diary did not read like the diary of someone who was going to commit suicide in (Harry checked the dates) two weeks. He was looking forward to going home for the holidays, he was pleased with his performance in his OWLS, even if he was nervous about his results. Harry stopped reading for a moment, his stomach clenched. He walked over to the window and stared out at the unfamiliar view. He was about to read the story of his friend's last two weeks of life, and more than ever he was terrified of what he might find. He was nearly sure that, unless some cataclysmic event had occurred that Harry was unaware of, Ron had not killed himself. This diary could be about to reveal the identity of a murderer at Hogwarts, a murderer who was never suspected and still walked free. The silence in the flat weighed heavy on Harry's mind as he sat down on the bed and resumed reading. The diary continued in the same vein for another week and a half, but then came the entry that froze Harry's heart.
*Ron's Diary*
My fears about Malfoy were confirmed today. I was last out of Potions this afternoon, and as I was leaving I saw a folded piece of paper under the desk that Harry and Draco share. I knew it must belong to one or other of them, so I picked it up and put it into my pocket to return later. The next lesson was History of Magic, and while Professor Binns was droning on, I read it. It was a letter to Malfoy from his father. Most of it was just the normal boring stuff from home - they are redecorating the drawing room in pale peach and other drivel like that, but the last sentence was this: "Your last report was encouraging. We are pleased with you but be careful - if you fail us in this the consequences will be severe."
Now, what is that supposed to mean but that Malfoy is luring Harry into some evil plot of the Dark Lord's? I've sent Malfoy a note with Pig, telling him that I have the letter and asking him to explain that part. I don't know whether to tell Harry or not. I've got the letter, that's proof, but what if he doesn't believe me? I know I shouldn't have been reading other people's letters, and Harry'll probably think that I'm just being paranoid and bearing grudges, making mountains out of molehills and trying to split him and Malfoy up. But I'm sure something fishy's going on. I wish Hermione was here. She'd know what to do.
Harry blinked, refusing to believe what he'd just read. There must be an innocent explanation - what Ron had written couldn't be true! Quickly he read on.
*Ron's Diary*
Malfoy sent me a note this morning. He wants me to meet him at two in the morning at the top of the main stairs, bringing the letter with me. He says he'll explain everything then, and not to tell Harry before he's had a chance to explain. I'll be interested to hear this explanation. It'd better be good. I hope for Harry's sake it is. He really seems to love Malfoy, and I'd hate to see him hurt, which he most certainly would be if Malfoy was only going out with him to lure him to YKW. I hope it's OK. It's nearly time for me to go now. I'd better not get caught. That really WOULD be impossible to explain!
That was the last entry. Horrified, Harry stared at the diary, his mind a swirling fog of emotion. He double-checked the date at the top of the entry, and it repeated what he already knew. The next morning, Ron had been found dead, hanging from the banisters of the main stairs. Desperately, Harry riffled through the pages, willing some writing onto the empty sheets. He re-read the entries, praying that it wasn't true, that somehow it had changed. But it still remained the same. Ron's scrawly, distinctive script told him that on the night he had died, Ron had gone to meet Draco alone, and he had not come back.
Well, was that worth the wait? Congratulations to those who saw that coming. The next part should be here very soon, and there are probably only two more parts to go anyway. I'd really like you to REVIEW, and please recommend this to your friends if you like it, because I very rarely seem to get any reviews! Thanks very much to everyone who has reviewed already - you really make this worthwhile and your comments are really valued!
Dear Draco,
How are you? I'm OK here so far this year. Now I am fully trained, they are even more scared of me than they were before, and the fact that I am nearly eighteen gets me some freedom too. I spend most of my time lurking in cafes and bars, keeping out of the house. If you know of any wizard pubs or bars or something in this area, could you tell me? My knowledge of Muggle current events is rubbish so I'm nervous of talking to people, and I'm running out of Muggle money as well.
Having said that things are fine, I do have a problem. On the last night of school, I went to say goodbye to all the places that I have special memories of. In one of them, I found something quite old, and probably very valuable. I should have given it straight to Professor Dumbledore, but I hid it in my trunk and brought it home with me. I feel really guilty about it, but I don't know what to do. I basically stole it, and I want to make it right but I don't know how. I'd rather not tell you what it was or where I found it - it was most definitely somewhere I should not have been and I am ashamed. All I can say is, it is old, probably valuable and nobody knows I have it. Sorry to bother you about this, but I'm afraid to tell Sirius and there isn't really anyone else I can talk to.
Lots of love
Harry
Harry read the letter over. He really didn't want to confess to anyone that he had stolen the sword of Salazar Slytherin from the Chamber of Secrets, but he felt guilty for not telling Draco the whole story.
'He may have ideas anyway. I can't tell him exactly what I've done, so either ask his advice like this or don't ask it at all!' Harry told himself firmly. He stood for a moment, then fastened the letter to Hedwig's leg and sent her to deliver it.
Draco wrote back quickly, much to Harry's relief.
Dear Harry,
I'll talk about this object first, since I know you won't read anything else I have to say properly until I've assuaged your guilt! The way I see it, the most important question is whether anyone will miss it. If no one knows you have it, and no one will miss it then there is no point getting yourself into trouble by returning it. Another aspect to consider is, if they do miss it, will they know it was you who took it? My initial answer from what you've told me is to hang onto it and hope no one traces it to you. If you think the chances are that they will trace it to you, then return it quickly - it makes it look as if it was a mistake, not anything else. I can't give you any more advice because I don't know what it is or where you found it. I'm intrigued now though - won't you tell me?
I'm sorry to hear about those Muggles. I would say hex them, but you don't want to risk more trouble. How long is it until you move into your flat in London?
On the topic of wizard pubs, you could try The Wand and Whistle on Mulberry Street. That's not too dodgy, you should be OK there.
I really miss you.
Love,
Draco
Harry re-read Draco's letter several times, trying to get it straight in his mind. No one would miss the sword as far as he knew. No one but a Parselmouth could get into the Chamber of Secrets, no one had been in but Tom Riddle, Ginny and himself since the Chamber was made. Ginny couldn't get back in on her own, and hadn't gone that far in anyway. The only one who might know that there should be a sword there was Voldemort, but he couldn't get back to check and discover its absence. Harry should be quite safe hanging onto the sword for a little while. He could give it back to Dumbledore when he next saw him, which would probably be fairly soon. There was no need to make a great fuss, even Draco thought so. Harry nodded to himself, relieved to have justified his possession of the sword for a while. He carefully did not consider why he wanted to keep the sword, but sat down and wrote a letter to Draco thanking him for his advice which had helped him to make a decision. Harry sent Hedwig off with the letter, then headed downstairs. Dudley was eating at the table. He had actually managed to slim down a bit, and was (to Harry's mingled surprise and disgust) not bad looking in a huge sort of way.
"What are you doing?" asked Dudley. Aunt Petunia was nowhere to be seen. Harry assumed she and Uncle Vernon must have gone shopping.
"Getting something to eat." he retorted shortly.
"You aren't allowed to do that." said Dudley, looking mean.
"Whether your parents like it or not, I live here, and am therefore entitled to some food."
"I'll tell Mum."
"Don't be pathetic Dudley. You're eighteen years old; try to act like it." Harry walked over to the fridge and started to make himself a cheese sandwich.
"What are you going to do today?" asked his cousin. Harry felt surprised, and suspicious. Dudley now sounded almost friendly. What was going on?
"Check out a pub on Mulberry Street my friend told me about."
"What do you normally do?"
"Sit in some Muggle cafe and try to make two cups of coffee last all day. In this place, I'll actually have some money."
"You lot have special pubs then?"
"Yes" said Harry, sitting down opposite his cousin and starting on the cheese sandwich.
"We have everything you have, but it's hidden. There are loads of special places Muggles can't get into, like the place in London where I buy my school stuff and the platform I go to school from."
"Why do you hide them?"
"If everyone knew about us, they'd want us to solve their problems for them, and that's not how it should be, so we hide. Besides, Muggles don't like us much. Don't you know about the witch-burnings in the Middle Ages?"
"Things'd be different now, wouldn't they?"
"I doubt it. Your parents hate me because I'm a wizard don't they? And some people at school hate all Muggles, and anyone descended from Muggles. My friend Hermione got a lot of stick from them because both her parents were Muggles."
"I suppose." Dudley fell silent, continued eating.
"Why the sudden interest anyway?" Harry asked, getting up to wash up his plate. "You've never shown any interest in me or my people before, so why now? Is there something you want me to do for you?"
"Well," began Dudley. "There is this girl I like.."
"Oh no," said Harry. "I am not making you any sort of love potion Dudley. No way. Nah uh."
"Oh come on Harry," said Dudley in a wheedling tone of voice. "Please."
"No. Love Potions are restricted anyway. I've never even made one, and I think they're wrong anyhow."
"Isn't there some sort of potion or spell or something I could use to see if she likes me?"
"No." said Harry resignedly. "Dudley, I can't help you."
"I bet you're lying." said Dudley angrily, pushing his hair away from the table and getting to his feet. 'Oh crap.' thought Harry. Although both boys were the same height now, Dudley was built on a much burlier scale than Harry and probably outweighed him by several stone.
"I really can't help you. I'd go to prison!" he said, moving swiftly towards the door while keeping the table between himself and Dudley. 'If I fight with him, I'll probably be kicked out. Damn and blast!'
"I'm sorry if this girl doesn't like you, but there's nothing I can do." he continued, reaching out to open the door. "I can't help you for two reasons, it's against wizarding law and I don't know how. OK? I'm sorry, but that's how it is." Harry opened the door and began to go through it.
"Liar," his cousin's voice hissed after him. "You'll be sorry for that Harry,"
"I'm sorry I couldn't help you." said Harry, and headed for his room. 'That's all I need,' he thought gloomily. "I'd best make sure to lock all my stuff up when I'm not here.' The thought did not fill him with joy. He sighed as he walked into his room. For a minute he thought he had gone back in time. Pigwidgeon was flying round the room, twittering excitedly and occasionally bumping into the lightshade.
"Pig!" he exclaimed, extending his hand to the tiny owl. "Come here boy!" The little ball fluttered over. Harry grabbed him gently and removed the letter from his leg. Taking the little owl over to Hedwig's empty cage he put him down next to the water dish. The little owl took a couple of sips, ate an owl treat, then fluffed up his feathers importantly before going to sleep. Harry shrugged, and turned the letter to the back to see ho had written to him.
'Ginny, of course,' he thought, a strange emotion stealing over him.
"You didn't half give me a fright" he said fondly to Pig. "For a moment there, I thought Ron was writing to me from beyond the grave." He lay down on his bed to read the letter. Ginny had written him a long letter, full of family news and jokes, as well as funny stories about each family member. It was just what Harry needed to cheer him up and he read it happily, resolving to write back to Ginny that evening, after checking out the pub. The slamming of a door downstairs alerted him to the fact his uncle and aunt were back. He tucked the letters from Ginny and Draco into his pocket to read later, took some wizard gold from his trunk and headed downstairs and out of the front door.
The rest of that week, and the week after it, passed almost without incident. Dudley had reverted to his usual nasty self, and seemed to have forgotten his threat to make Harry sorry. Harry had found the pub much to his liking and had begun to think of it as a second home. He wrote to Draco a lot, as both knew that they wouldn't be able to write once Harry went to stay with the Weasleys. Harry also wrote to Ginny, with whom he was keeping up a steady correspondence. Harry got the feeling she was lonely now that Percy and the twins were away most of the time. He made sure to write back as quickly as he could. He had now almost got used to the sight of Pigwidgeon fluttering through his window, though he still felt a pang whenever he saw the little owl. Harry was very careful not to mention that he was still in touch with anyone else. He had never told Ginny about Sirius, and he wasn't sure what she knew of the war. For his part, both Sirius and Remus wrote him a great many letters, keeping him up to date on what was going on. Draco's carefully worded letters told him a little more, and Harry felt he knew quite a lot about what was happening in the wizarding world.
Harry was looking forward to his visit to the Weasleys much more now, though he was dreading being there without Ron. But the days passed quickly, and before he knew it he was standing in the Weasley kitchen, being hugged tightly by Mrs Weasley.
"Hello Harry," she said thickly, releasing him and fumbling for a handkerchief. Harry found to his amazement that his own cheeks were wet. "It's so good to see you again dear. It's been too long."
"I agree," said Harry. "I'm sorry," he said, not knowing how to express what he was feeling, just knowing that he had to say something.
"You mustn't blame yourself Harry," said Mrs Weasley in horror. "It was not your fault, it wasn't anybody's."
"Perhaps we should talk about this later," interjected Mr Weasley. "Let Harry get settled in first,"
"Yes, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to talk about this now."
"We've put you in Percy's old room." said Mr Weasley. "He won't be home, and we didn't think you'd like to go in Ron's room."
"Percy's room sounds good," said Harry.
"Let me show you where it is," said Ginny quickly. Harry nodded gratefully at her and followed her up the stairs.
"Here you go," she said, leading him into a room that was slightly larger than Ron's, and certainly much neater.
"I hope my coming here hasn't upset your mum too much," said Harry, putting his trunk at the bottom of the bed and turning to look at Ginny.
"She's talked about nothing else for the last three weeks," said Ginny dryly. "She's always been fond of you, you know that."
"Yes, but.." Harry let his voice trail off, not sure how to say what he was thinking.
"You think you remind her of Ron?" said Ginny gently. "Of course you do, how could you not, but it's been over two years now and we've all begun to move on."
"Perhaps I should have come sooner then," said Harry gloomily, turning away from her to look out of the window.
"Don't avoid the issue!" said Ginny directly, but not harshly. "Ron's dead, and we've all had to accept that, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't talk about him. She'll want to, and you'd best be prepared for that."
"I know." said Harry softly. He heard Ginny turn and move towards the door.
"Gin?" he said uncertainly, the pressure of his secret feeling like a lead weight in his stomach.
"Yes?" she asked, an almost eager note in her voice. Harry hesitated, then his nerve failed him.
"Nothing, it's OK."
"I'll come back in half an hour when you've settled in a bit. We can play Quidditch or something if you like."
"Yeah, that'd be nice." said Harry, inwardly berating himself for not telling Ginny everything now. He heard the door close behind her and clenched his fists at his sides.
"Stupid." he said out loud. "Stupid, stupid, stupid." His face screwed into a frown of frustration he turned and flopped down on the bed.
"It doesn't have to be a secret any more." he told himself. "You could tell her. You can trust her."
"Soon." he promised himself. "You can tell her soon." With a sigh he got up off the bed and began to look for his Quidditch stuff. As he did so, his hand brushed against the sword hidden at the bottom of his trunk.
Harry settled in nicely at the Weasleys. The awkward atmosphere lessened after a few days, and they talked easily of Ron, remembering the good times they'd had. Harry noticed that they avoided the subject of Ron's last term. He supposed that that was only natural, and that Ginny had told them all she knew anyway. For some reason, the idea of visiting Ron's room was growing in Harry's mind. It had come to him on the first morning, and though he tried to push it away as morbid and strange, the desire was growing stronger. The day before he was supposed to leave, he mentioned it to Ginny. The two had been practising Quidditch in fresh evening air and had stopped for a rest.
"Gin?" he asked casually.
"Yes?" she responded lazily, enjoying the warmth of the evening sun on her back.
"Do you think I could look in Ron's room?"
Ginny rolled over to look at him, pulling herself into a sitting position.
"I don't see why not." she said easily. "Shall we go now? We've got half an hour before tea."
"Won't your mum mind?" asked Harry nervously, looking surprised at how easy it had been.
"No, and she's making tea now anyway. She probably won't even notice." Harry still looked unsure, and Ginny smiled at him. "Come on, let's go now."
Harry took a deep breath and stood up. The two walked back to the house in silence and made their way to Ron's bedroom. Ginny went in first, holding the door open for Harry. Harry stepped in quietly and closed it behind him. The room didn't look like a room belonging to someone who was dead. The Chudley Cannon posters were still on the wall, Ron's trunk was placed neatly at the end of his bed, his broomstick propped carelessly in the corner. The sunlight slanting across the neatly made-up bed gave an air of life to the room, and if Harry hadn't known better he would have thought that his friend had just stepped out for a minute. He swallowed away a lump in his throat and stared around it again. Now he could see the small signs that this room was unoccupied. It was tidier than it had been when he had seen it (though that could have been because there was no camp-bed set up in the corner for him to sleep on) and the bed itself was much neater than it would have been had Ron left it. The posters were all out of date.
"OK?" asked Ginny softly. The sound of her voice made Harry jump.
"I suppose," he whispered.
"Why are you whispering?" she asked quietly. "Mum won't be able to hear us anyway, and she wouldn't mind if she did."
"It just doesn't seem right to talk loudly." he said uncertainly. His gaze was drawn to the trunk. Ginny followed his line of sight.
"That hasn't been opened since he died, as far as I know." she said softly. "I think they took his clothes out, but that's all."
There was a long pause, as both of them stood looking at the trunk.
"Should we open it?" asked Ginny. Now she was whispering too. "There might be clues in there." Harry nodded.
"Do you think it's right?" he whispered back. "Going through his things doesn't seem fair somehow, even if he is dead." His mind was drawn back to the sword in his own trunk, the letter from Draco hidden beneath it.
"Someone will look eventually." she said uncertainly. "We'll need the trunk or the room or something. We're not snooping, we want to know what happened."
"I hope you're right." said Harry. He knew they would open the trunk, had known they would as soon as he had seen it in the room. He walked over to it and gently lifted the lid.
Ginny came over hesitantly, knelt on the floor next to Harry in front of the trunk.
"It looks very empty without his clothes." she said blankly, staring at the jumble of objects in the bottom of the trunk. Ron's school books were gone too, and all that was left inside the huge trunk were a jumble of personal artefacts - a handful of Chocolate Frog cards, a framed picture of Hermione, another of himself and Harry, a book about the Chudley Cannons, a couple of comics and three spiral-bound notebooks. These Harry lifted out uncertainly.
"I wonder what these are," he said, a suspicion forming in his mind. He opened one, looking inside it.
"His diary," said Ginny gently. Harry shut it quickly, a knot of fear forming in his stomach as he realised what these books could contain. Throughout his stay he had refused to discuss his partner, his fear of what Ginny would say if she knew he was gay and in love with the boy who's father was her family's sworn enemy being too much to surmount. The habit of secrecy he had got into after hiding his romance for two years had proved too strong to break, and Harry didn't think he could cope with her reaction if she found out all the details of his argument with Ron.
"I didn't know he kept a diary," he said, staring at the small book in his hands; the book that contained the secrets of Ron's last year and the events leading up to his death.
"Gin, I can't read it." he said, coming to a quick decision. "It's his diary, it's private,"
"I know what you mean, but Harry, we must!" said Ginny urgently. "This could tell us what we need to know." Her face was flushed red, her eyes full of emotion. Harry was reminded forcibly that this was her brother who had died, and that Ginny needed answers, probably more than he did as to how her brother had died, answers that this diary quite probably contained.
"Ginny, I can't," he said, listening in amazement to the words coming out of his mouth. "It wasn't written for anyone to read, it's his most private and secret possession. I can't violate his privacy by reading it."
"But Harry," Ginny began.
"Harry! Ginny! Supper's ready!"
"Come on, we'd better go," said Harry. Ginny nodded, her face flushed.
"This isn't the end of this," she said softly. "We need to talk about this more." She watched him as he put the books back into the trunk and closed the lid gently. Her eyes seemed full of disappointment and betrayal, and Harry squirmed as he followed her down the stairs, knowing would he was going to do was unforgivable by any standards, but seeing no alternative other than risk Ginny find out the truth, something he could barely even contemplate. He wished Draco was here, that his boyfriend could help him with this decision.
Tea was a jolly meal which lasted for a long time, and there was not time or opportunity before Harry and Ginny went to bed to discuss the matter of the diaries any further. Harry knew there would be no time in the morning. He was to meet Sirius in Diagon Alley at ten o'clock, and they would go to his new flat while the Weasleys bought Ginny's school things. He and Ginny would have little chance for a private chat, and once he had gone..
When he was sure that everyone was in bed, Harry carefully got out of bed and went over to his trunk, removing the Invisibility Cloak and wrapping it around himself. He knew what he was doing was wrong, but he couldn't risk Ginny getting the diaries. He positioned a pillow in the bed so that if Ginny should have decided to creep in and discuss this while her parents were asleep she would not immediately see that his bed was unoccupied. He hoped she wouldn't, but the pillow might buy him valuable time. Creeping over to the door he opened it just wide enough for him to squeeze through and pushed it to carefully, making sure that the door did not click shut. Harry moved stealthily up the stairs, using his years of creeping around after lights-out to his full advantage. He was glad to see that there was no light under Ginny's door, and gladder still to see that there was no light under the door of the room which had been Ron's. He pushed it open quietly, hoping that it wouldn't creak. The room was bathed in moonlight, and Harry pulled the door to slightly before moving hurriedly over to the trunk. His heart was beating like a drum, he knew that this wasn't right and yet he was still doing it.
'I guess it's a slippery slope.' he thought sarcastically as he gently opened the trunk. 'First the sword, now this.' He reached into the trunk and removed the three spiral-bound notebooks, slipping them underneath his Cloak and rummaging through the loose papers scattered at the bottom of the trunk.
'I hope there's nothing else important in there,' he thought, removing his hand and closing the lid of the trunk gently. He looked around the room, cast into eerily sharp relief by the moonlight.
"I'm sorry Ron," he whispered, tears beginning to run down his face as he stared at the room which had belonged to his best friend with his stolen diaries close against his body. "I'm really sorry," He stood for a moment, allowing the tears to flow unchecked down his face, before turning and making his silent way back to his room, where he hid the diaries with the letters from Draco before climbing into his now-cold bed and crying himself to sleep.
The next morning, Harry didn't feel at all refreshed by his night's sleep. The thought of the diaries lurking at the bottom of his trunk meant that he could not enjoy the hasty breakfast and cheerful atmosphere of his last morning at the Weasleys. He managed to avoid letting Ginny catch him alone, hoping that she hadn't realised that that was what he was trying to do, but knowing she had. He heaved a sigh of relief when he was finally standing in Diagon Alley and saw Padfoot coming towards him.
"Well, thanks very much for having me. I had a great time." he said, turning to Mrs Weasley, who pulled him into a tight hug.
"Any time Harry dear, it's been lovely seeing you again," she said.
"Don't forget to keep in touch," added Mr Weasley.
"Yeah," agreed Ginny, hugging Harry awkwardly.
"I will," Harry promised. Padfoot appeared by his side and wagged his tail gratefully at the Weasleys.
"Well, bye then," said Harry. He turned and began to manoeuvre his trunk though the crowds until they were back in Muggle London. Sirius had acquired a small car, and while Harry loaded his trunk into the back of it, Sirius transformed back into himself.
"Did you have a nice time?" he asked as they drove towards Harry's new home.
"It was great thanks," said Harry. "A bit strange without Ron, but still."
"The rest of the summer go OK?"
"Yes, well, not really but better than usual. But enough about me, how are you?"
Sirius launched into a quick account of the summer's events which were too important to be trusted to letters and Harry listened intently, pushing the thought of the stolen diaries to the back of his mind. Eventually they pulled up in front of a block of flats.
"We're on the top floor, I'm afraid, but it comes ready furnished so it's cheaper."
"It's OK," said Harry. "This looks fine." Sirius showed Harry which bedroom was going to be his, then left him to settle in while he went to make them a meal. Harry enjoyed arranging his few personal belongings out over a whole room and getting himself moved in - it took his mind off the diaries and the sword, both of which weighed heavily on his conscience. When Sirius called he went quickly into the main room where they passed a happy evening. He went to bed early however, saying that he was tired. Sirius accepted this, and Harry locked his door carefully before opening his trunk and pulling out the sword he had stolen from the Chamber of Secrets.
'Is this sword having a bad influence on me?' he wondered, staring at the jewel-encrusted hilt. 'Did it somehow make me steal the diaries from Ron's trunk?' He stood there, feeling the heft of it in his hand and making a couple of passes at the air, fencing an unseen enemy for a while before sheathing the sword again. In an attempt to delay facing the diaries, he sat down to write a letter to Draco.
'Dear Draco,
How are you? I've moved into the flat in London with Sirius now. It's small, but I've never had a bedroom completely to myself before that I can arrange how I like. Sirius has agreed to let me have a new carpet, as this one is pale pink! I had a good time at the Weasleys with Ginny. None of the older ones were there, so it was just us most of the time. I really missed you though. Is there any way you can get to London without making your parents, especially your father, suspicious? I really need to see you. I know you'll be able to help me. I told you in an earlier letter about the sword I stole from Hogwarts, but now I've stolen something much worse. On the last full day at the Weasleys, Ginny and I went into Ron's room, and we found his diaries for the last year of his life. I knew there'd be stuff about us in there, things I haven't told Ginny or even hinted about, so I said I felt wrong about reading Ron's diaries, even if they do have the answers she wants. We had to go for dinner then, and we didn't have time to discuss it that night. While everyone else was asleep, I sneaked upstairs and stole the diaries from his trunk. I haven't told Ginny what I've done, and I feel terrible about it. I mean, that would be the easiest way for her to find out about us, she really needs answers about her brother's death and I have stolen them from her. I've done a horrible, cruel thing, and I dread to think what will happen when Ginny finds out what I've done. I really need to see you - you always know how to make me feel better. Do you think she can ever forgive me?
I'm sorry, this wasn't supposed to be a complaining letter. I've been unable to write to you for so long, I've spent ages planning what I'd say, but somehow I haven't said any of it. I love you Draco. Write to me soon.
All my love,
Harry'
Harry stared at the letter for a minute before attaching it to Hedwig's leg and sending her out to Draco. He watched until she was out of sight, and then, unable to put it off any longer, reached for the diaries. He opened the first one, and began to read, devouring the details of Ron's life that Ron had thought significant enough to record. As he read, his sense of unease grew. He finished the first book and tossed it aside, reaching for the second, and then the third. Every entry was dated, and while Ron certainly seemed unhappy about Hermione's death and the Malfoy situation, he did not seem nearly unhappy enough to want to kill himself. Ron's entries spoke of the wall between himself and Harry over the issue of Malfoy which he did not dare try and cross, Ron's certainty that Malfoy was using Harry for some unfathomable purpose, the gap in his life where Hermione had been as well as the random day-to-day events of school life, but his diary did not read like the diary of someone who was going to commit suicide in (Harry checked the dates) two weeks. He was looking forward to going home for the holidays, he was pleased with his performance in his OWLS, even if he was nervous about his results. Harry stopped reading for a moment, his stomach clenched. He walked over to the window and stared out at the unfamiliar view. He was about to read the story of his friend's last two weeks of life, and more than ever he was terrified of what he might find. He was nearly sure that, unless some cataclysmic event had occurred that Harry was unaware of, Ron had not killed himself. This diary could be about to reveal the identity of a murderer at Hogwarts, a murderer who was never suspected and still walked free. The silence in the flat weighed heavy on Harry's mind as he sat down on the bed and resumed reading. The diary continued in the same vein for another week and a half, but then came the entry that froze Harry's heart.
*Ron's Diary*
My fears about Malfoy were confirmed today. I was last out of Potions this afternoon, and as I was leaving I saw a folded piece of paper under the desk that Harry and Draco share. I knew it must belong to one or other of them, so I picked it up and put it into my pocket to return later. The next lesson was History of Magic, and while Professor Binns was droning on, I read it. It was a letter to Malfoy from his father. Most of it was just the normal boring stuff from home - they are redecorating the drawing room in pale peach and other drivel like that, but the last sentence was this: "Your last report was encouraging. We are pleased with you but be careful - if you fail us in this the consequences will be severe."
Now, what is that supposed to mean but that Malfoy is luring Harry into some evil plot of the Dark Lord's? I've sent Malfoy a note with Pig, telling him that I have the letter and asking him to explain that part. I don't know whether to tell Harry or not. I've got the letter, that's proof, but what if he doesn't believe me? I know I shouldn't have been reading other people's letters, and Harry'll probably think that I'm just being paranoid and bearing grudges, making mountains out of molehills and trying to split him and Malfoy up. But I'm sure something fishy's going on. I wish Hermione was here. She'd know what to do.
Harry blinked, refusing to believe what he'd just read. There must be an innocent explanation - what Ron had written couldn't be true! Quickly he read on.
*Ron's Diary*
Malfoy sent me a note this morning. He wants me to meet him at two in the morning at the top of the main stairs, bringing the letter with me. He says he'll explain everything then, and not to tell Harry before he's had a chance to explain. I'll be interested to hear this explanation. It'd better be good. I hope for Harry's sake it is. He really seems to love Malfoy, and I'd hate to see him hurt, which he most certainly would be if Malfoy was only going out with him to lure him to YKW. I hope it's OK. It's nearly time for me to go now. I'd better not get caught. That really WOULD be impossible to explain!
That was the last entry. Horrified, Harry stared at the diary, his mind a swirling fog of emotion. He double-checked the date at the top of the entry, and it repeated what he already knew. The next morning, Ron had been found dead, hanging from the banisters of the main stairs. Desperately, Harry riffled through the pages, willing some writing onto the empty sheets. He re-read the entries, praying that it wasn't true, that somehow it had changed. But it still remained the same. Ron's scrawly, distinctive script told him that on the night he had died, Ron had gone to meet Draco alone, and he had not come back.
Well, was that worth the wait? Congratulations to those who saw that coming. The next part should be here very soon, and there are probably only two more parts to go anyway. I'd really like you to REVIEW, and please recommend this to your friends if you like it, because I very rarely seem to get any reviews! Thanks very much to everyone who has reviewed already - you really make this worthwhile and your comments are really valued!