A/N: I am really, terribly sorry for the delay. But here's what happened--midterms, loads of new school projects that demanded my attention.

AND THEN.

Today, my crap of an imac lost all of my word files. Yea. So all that I've written isÉ.gone. I must remember back-up, but honestly--can't one trust one's computer to actually save and keep files?? Geez.

On with the story. So don't hate me if this chapter doesn't seem so enthusiastic. It's not the same writing it for the second time.

The Hopefully Non-Magic Diary of Ginny Weasley

Chapter 9

I cannot believe this. I really can't. People just don't appreciate me anymore.

Hermione came in to have another one of her inspiring talks with me.

HERMIONE: Ginny, you're being very insensitive.

ME: [Sputtering.]

HERMIONE: Yes. You're basking in self-pity. It's sickening to see.

ME: I don't know what you're talking about, Hermione! All people do, though, is hate me! Everything in my life--it goes wrong! Is it some cardinal sin for something in my life to go right, for once? So, at least, I know what it feels like, to be happy??

HERMIONE: [Wearing a ridiculous hat along with a ridiculous expression on her face.] Don't be silly. Happiness is a state of mind, you fool. You are happy if and when you choose to be.

ME: Please, Hermione. I don't need one of your philosophical tirades right now.

HERMIONE: [Indignant.] It's not a philosophical tirade! It's called the truth!

ME: Well, then. I choose to be happy when I have a reason to be. Being happy under these circumstances would label me as an idiot.

HERMIONE: [Sniffs.]And you don't have enough reasons right now? Tell me, then, what's so horrible about your life.

ME: People don't care about me. Just because I don't say anything, doesn't mean I want everyone to look at me as if I were an insignificant worm, squirming uneasily on the ground. AND, the love of my life basically resents every inch of my wormy self.

HERMIONE: You're such a drama queen sometimes, Ginny. Wait, scratch that. You're a drama queen all the time.

ME: [Glaring.] And when did you become so rude?

HERMIONE: It's actually blunt truth.

ME: Whatever you choose to call it, Hermione. I'm NOT a drama queen. I just want to be treated like I deserve, for once.

HERMIONE: [ Looking ponderous.] Maybe you are being treated like you deserve, Gin.

ME: [Gaping. Honestly, how could the brat SAY such a thing?] EXCUSE ME? What the hell is that supposed to mean?

HERMIONE: Treat others the way you--

ME: I DO!

HERMIONE: Sure. Then when's the last time you've stopped someone in the halls to ask how she or he was doing? When's the last time you've shown that you've cared, Ginny?

ME: Oh, and because you're doing so much better than me at that, you have a right to lecture me about how many times a day I say, " How do you do?"

HERMIONE: No! You're completely and irritably missing the point! At least I sought you out and tried to help you in your time of need!

ME: And your help is certainly helping a lot!

HERMIONE: [Shaking with anger.] Just who do you think you are, then, to think you deserve people waiting by your side so they can pretend to care for you? Because while we're at it, let's be blunt: People care for those who have earned it. Maybe it means you haven't earned anyone's care.

And then, she left before I could spit out another word. Which was just as well, because I was so furious by then, I could have picked up that expensive vase on the bed table and chucked it at her abnormally large head.

Except.

Now that I read over what I said, and what she said--

Shreds of doubt enter my mind. Maybe she's right.

Later

I apologized to Herm. She accepted it, and I half wish she didn't just so I could tell myself how horrible she is and that whatever she told me was wrong. But no. Hermione Granger always has to be flawlessly kind and good.

But you know what? I've been sitting here, thinking for the past few hours. Not good when I start to think too much.

The thing of it is, I can't think of all the reasons I've made up as to why my life is terrible. Maybe this is what self-discovery is. Finding out the true flaws within yourself and striving to make them better.

Well --except for Draco but--who ever said he hated me? That was just my imagination, wasn't it? " You'll never know unless you do something about it." Or so says Hermione. But you know what?

I reckon she's right. So what else is new?

I think it's about time that I sat down to have a nice, long talk with that boy.

Even Later

Recap:

I eventually caught him loitering about in the corridors. Except I knew his loitering was anything but casual, because he was standing there, pretending to be fascinated with a particularly dull painting. He's not the type to do that kind of thing, especially not in public where people can accuse him of being sensitive.

" Draco." I said firmly. He tensed, and then turned around.

" We need to talk." I said. He gulped, and nodded. Before he could say anything, I grabbed his hands and whipped out my secret weapon:

" What's that?" He asked curiously. I didn't answer him. I put the cuff around him and the other around mine. Good. We were officially inseparable. At least, until another three hours or so.

" Handcuffs." I finally explained. " Muggle things, actually. It's a precaution, so neither of us decide to take off somewhere during this much needed conversation." He looked outraged, then baffled, then reluctant. But what could he do about it, anyway?

" I'm sorry." I started. He shrugged, and looked at me quizzically.

" For what?"

" For running away yesterday, and not letting you finish what you were saying." He nodded.

" Yes. Mother always did say that it wasn't proper to interrupt someone. Especially if he's a Malfoy." I couldn't tell if he was kidding or being entirely serious, so I didn't laugh.

" I was scared."

" Do I really scare you that much, then?" He nearly looked pleased with himself.

" No. I'm not scared of you, stupid."

" Then what?"

" Explain to me first about the diary." I prompted, steering conversation away from me. He suddenly looked uneasy, as if he would have liked to bolt. I grinned and pointed at the handcuffs. He cursed quietly, before running a free hand through his hair.

" I sent you the damned diary."

" It's a damned diary?" He glared at me.

" You know what I mean!" He licked his lips and stared at me tentatively. " You aren't surprised?"

I shrugged. Yes, I was a bit surprised. But after all those hints he had dropped, it had been a little obvious who it was.

" I guess I am surprised." I said. " But more to the point, I think I should be cross with you, Mr. Malfoy." I turned icy eyes on him. Now he looked really uncomfortable, tugging at his tie.

" It was a sleazy thing to do, alright." He seemed to be muttering more to himself than to me. " It's an enchanted diary, of course." I froze at those words.

" Bastard." He winced. " I'd rather have a damned diary than an enchanted one, after all. Thought it was funny, then, did you? To torment a girl like that?"

" Well, at firstÉ"

" Wrong answer, Malfoy!" I said, before stepping on his toe. He yelped and made to grab his shoe, but the handcuffs restricted body movement.

" You are right about one thing, though. It WAS a sleazy thing to do--although, from a Malfoy, you can't really expect much better--how--why?" I stumbled for words.

" I bought it at Knockturn Alley?" He offered. I slapped a hand to my face and groaned. Dark Arts. Always dark arts. The thought, ' Why me?' flitted through my mind, suddenly.

" Look, I'm sorry. But I'm a boy--I'm Draco Malfoy at that, and the idea of being able to read what you wrote in your diary was too tempting to pass up." I suppose it was amazing enough that he actually sounded apologetic. I peeked through my hands to shoot daggers at him.

Wait--wait--read what I wrote in my diary??

" WHAT?" He jumped. " What do you mean, Draco Malfoy, that you could read what I wrote?"

" I'm sorry--really!!" It was around this point in time that I lost it and smacked him none-too-gently across the face.

His pale cheeks grew red quickly, as his jaws clenched.

" Alright, so I deserved that."

And then I regretted slapping him.

" Oh, Gods, I'm sorry, DracoÉ"

" No, don't be. I learn well from physical abuse--that should teach me never to do such a thing again."

" It's just--it's so embarrassing! To know that you know all my secretsÉ" I trailed off, my eyes bugging at this prospect. He knew everything. Every itty bitty detail I wrote in here. It was like a slap to my own face, really. I'd been fooled twice. Shame on me. Right then, more than anything I wanted to gnaw off the chains and go find that paper bag to put over my head.

" You knowÉeverythingÉ?" I asked tentatively.

" Basically, yea." I closed my eyes. Well, at least he answered simply enough. My eyes opened again, in sudden revelation.

" But you didn't know about me in my Zorro get-up or how I spiked the punch--" Draco frowned.

" Don't flatter yourself, Gin. S'not like I bother to read every single thing you write. I don't stalk your thoughts like that." I blushed and didn't know whether or not to be happy or offended.

" Well, then. Now that that's cleared up--think you can get these things off me? My skin's rather sensitive to metal. I have homework to get to, anyhow." Draco motioned towards the handcuffs. Indeed, his wrist was starting to turn red. I started to nod nonchalantly. So this was it. All the confusion cleared. No need to talk to him anymore, right?

" Wait. No." He looked at me wonderingly, raising a dark blonde eyebrow.

" There's something else we still need to talk about."

" You're going to tell me you hate me forever for the cheap diary scam, aren't you?" Draco said dryly. I didn't answer.

All I could think about was losing this one chance to find him and hold him and talk to him before he would go back to being arse-y Malfoy again without even Self-Discovery classes to sustain me any longer, and me, slowly pining away for him--surviving only with chance glances in the hallways? Was this truly it? Surely notÉsurely there had to be more, especially when some deep part of me felt so strongly about it, as if I would shrivel up and scatter into a tiny million pieces if I could not grasp him completelyÉ

" I love you!" And it's ironic, really, when you say something that you'd really only like to whisper, how it echoes off the walls like a thousand strong voices. The whole world must have heard my rather brave exclamation.

He lookedÉdumbstruck. Almost resembling a statue, frozen in time, because I don't think either of us could have batted an eyelash in that moment. Until, that is, time unfroze itself and called us to do something.

" Oh." He sounded almost monotonous. It wasn't a delighted "Oh!" or a disgusted, " OhÉ" Somehow, that made me angry.

" That's it? 'Oh?'" I asked. He didn't move a muscle. Then, he blinked slowly, as if his brain had suddenly slowed down and had trouble processing a single word.

" I don't know what else to say." He said, almost regretfully.

" How about telling me what you really feel, Draco?" My hands mistakenly touched my face and felt those damned wet things again, that were so frequently visiting me these days. " Enough riddles, enough guessing. Tell me if you feel something remotely special for me or not." I pleaded.

And then, a redhead figure rounded the corner. My heart sank, and my feet grew cold, angry all over again at the world's mockery at me.

But Draco didn't seem to notice Ron, opening his mouth to complain. His gaze was fixed on me, as if I was all that he could see.

" Yes." At first, it was a whisper. " I think I do feel something special for you." A little louder now, that it was audible to me.

" What's going on here?" Ron protested, trying to interject. Draco merely stepped closer to me, looking taller and handsomer than he had ever before.

" I think I might just love you, Ginny." He smiled, as if those words were releasing a year's trapped words inside him. I smiled back, relieved and--well, how do you describe a moment like this? Happy. Simply happy.

" Now, see here--I don't like this one bit, Gin--get away from him now, there's a good girl."

Draco whipped his head around, finally taking note of Ron.

" Weasley, you idiot." He bit out icily. " For once in your life: Shut up."

And then he leaned in and kissed me, one handcuffed hand reaching out to cup my chin.

A/N: AGH. Sorry that was so craptastic, but I felt I had to write something and post it TONIGHT. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed--I think that there will be one more chapter to this, as an epilogue. Expect some hefty thank you's next chapter then, and a rather tearful good-bye.

NOTE: All of you, come and visit me at my livejournal, now, before I am forced twiddle my thumbs in boredom. (lj name: seven_years) Yes, it's really a desperate cry for a cure of loneliness. None of my friends are cool enough to get one. ::sticks tongue out at them and deprives them of Draco plushies:: Okay, enough. I'm going now. ::is a loser::