Thankels for my reviews. Each of you get a wish. If it actually comes true, that wasn't me, I don't know how to do that stuff.

Disclaimer- You have read chapter one. This is by far redundant now.


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You know, she really has nothing to lose here.

Ginny work up. Late. Thanking every thing she could think of to thank that it was Saturday. She didn't have to go breakfast. No one but Ron cares what she does anyway. Annoying little twit. Ginny thought to herself. She sighed, and went to dig Draco's journal out from under her bed. What date was I on again? She thumbed over the first two pages. Oh yes, day three. She fell back relaxed in her bed, pulled the covers up, and started on day three. Of Draco's journal. She pondered for a moment why he had given up on dates. Wait this is Draco, if anyone found it, they might have been able to pin something on him that he did do.

Day three-

Didn't write yesterday. Was to tired. However I had a reason to be tired. I into the Weaslette. Ok. I'll admit it, I can't get this girl out of my head. I''m not sure if I want anything with her though. I mean take today's bump into conversation.

Me- (I bump into outside of the Great Hall.) Watch is Weaslette. (Then I make this stupid move of trying to help her pick something up.)

Her- You bumped into me. Let's not forget. (she trys to make some kinda smug face.)
I so was not. I was scoffing at you Draco Ginny said softly to herself. Why are you helping me?

Me- I will deny that I ever did such a thing. I never talked to you, saw you, purposely bumped into you.. etc

Her- (she crossed her arms.) You meant to bump into me? Did you lose your Slythermind?

Me- No, but lately you have been on it.

Her- (she rolls her eyes at my smirk) Very bad pick up line Malfoy.

Me- ( I lean in and put her book on top of the others.) It's not a pick up line when it's true.

I then, leave her looking at me with amazement, and try to NOT skip back to the common room. So then I laid in bed thinking about what I just did, and if it was stupid or not. And feel asleep. With out writing in you. Ha, I say you like your a real person. Wait father sent this to me. You could be..

-Draco Malfoy.


Ginny rolled her eyes turning the page. I remember that. She said turning the page. This still however, She started as she narrowed her eyes on day seven' of Draco's journal, Explains nothing. Save now I knew he really did like me.. Wait, did he write the details of everything I ever said to him?? She thought about skipping forward a bit, but though better of it. Settling the journal on her chest, and reading day seven'.

Day Seven-

Bad Draco. He missed a couple of days in his journal. Or did he rip them out in case this journal used to be a real person. HA! I know the answer, and you don't. (For when I read this later on, I'm talking to the journal, I really think this used to be someone father used to know..)

Weaslette update. If I wasn't a Malfoy, and could express any emotion, save a form of anger, I might think I'm falling for this girl. Wow, that was harder to write than expected. She amazes me with a glance. Especially when I'm not even sure it's for me! I mean she said this to me.

Her- (I'm sure she snuck away from the heard of red and gold) It's a honeydukes weekend..

Me- I know. (I tried to hide what may be excitement..)

Her- So I was thinking, maybe we could meet up or something...

Me- And be seen with you? Lost your gourd have you?

Her- There is a bar at the inn that no one goes to..

Me- I'll meet you there at 4pm.

Her- (she nodded at me, and walked away.)

So tomorrow I'm meeting her at 4pm. I'm to tired to write anymore. Maybe I should invest in one of those quills that writes as you talk..

-Draco Malfoy.

Ginny close the journal, and tucked it under her pillow. I can't believe it. He did have emotions. He remembers everything I ever said to him. She got up to get dressed to go to the kitchens for a late breakfast. To bad he didn't ... She put her tie on, and left the common room.

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I should let y'all know, the rating will change on this fic. Draco happens to be a very descriptive sorta person.

Lurve, Nat