She stares down at the open book on her lap. At the pages covered in the jagged version of her own script. Her hand aches from writing, but she is convinced if she just writes his name a few more times, he will answer her.
She fills another page, and then looks at her progress. But not one of the words has faded. Not one has disappeared into the page. She sighs. She doesn't know what she had expected. This diary is ordinary. No more magical than a Muggle computer. Of course he wouldn't answer her here. What she needs is the diary. His diary.
Her eyes are sore and tired from staring at one spot for too long. She rubs them and then her temples to battle the headache she feels coming on.
Just once more, she thinks.
Picking up the quill, she writes
T.
O.
M.
Before dragging her stiff and weary body into bed.
--------
Ginny Weasley bolts upright in her twin-sized bed. She is still breathing raggedly from the dream. Was it a dream? It felt so real. She tries hard to remember what she had done last night. But her recollection stops after dinner.
Without really thinking, feeling slightly panicked, she scrambles out of bed and drops to her knees in front of the chest she keeps her diary in. She paws through the papers that cover the tiny leather book, finally reaching it. She drags it out, and begins flipping through it.
The entries date back to the beginning of her third year. Every time she begins running out of paper, her father makes it so there are at least a hundred new blank pages. He understands that she wants one diary for all of her time at Hogwarts. They are full of rants about how dense Harry was. How she couldn't stand the fact that he was looking at Cho and not her. Her grief as she realized that he would never look at her the way she wanted. Then, slowly, her getting over that idea.
As she nears the end of the entries, her pulse began to slow to normal pace once again.
But then, she sees something that made her heart stop.
A page completely covered with a name.
His name.
She flips the page. There it is again. It goes on for at least five pages.
Feeling suddenly sick, she drops the book to the floor. She draws her knees to her chest and wraps her arms tightly around them. She closes her eyes, trying to stop the spinning of the room. Then, slowly, she begins to rock back and forth on her heels.
Calm down, she tells herself. Nothing bad happened. He's not back. He never answered.
But the fact remains that she had tried to reach him. That she hadn't been able to remember her actions.
Or that thinking about the fact that he hadn't answered makes her feel as if there was a rock in her stomach.
-------
"Hey, Gin, you ready?"
Ginny pastes a smile on her face as her brother, Ron pokes his head inside her doorway. She iss tying the laces of her sneakers.
"Yeah," she says, finishing and standing up. "Let's go."
She follows him down the steps and the smile on her face becomes genuine when she catches sight of the bushy brown hair of Hermione Granger.
Hermione rushes forward to hug Ginny, a smile lighting her face. Ginny can't help noticing how pretty her friend had gotten. Or how her brother keeps sneaking glances at her from across the room. But Hermione is blissfully oblivious.
But her stomach twists in knots as another familiar face appeared.
"Harry," she says, her voice suddenly small.
The knots in her stomach have nothing to do with nerves and everything to do with pity.
Harry's brilliant green eyes have lost their spark and his smile seems forced. Three weeks at the Dursley's has done nothing for him. He looks severely undernourished, but Ginny isn't sure whether they haven't been feeding him, or if he simply hasn't been eating. I know I had a hard time eating after . . . As she thinks of her first year, the pages of her diary flash through her mind, bringing with them a sick feeling. She closes her eyes and forces herself to clear her mind.
"Well," comes her mother's voice from the entrance to the kitchen," now that everyone's here, we can get going."
------------
Diagon Alley is ridiculously crowded. As it always is on summer holidays. Witches and Wizards often come here for parts of their vacation. When they aren't traveling around the world. She has heard that the United States is a popular site.
She hears her brother and Hermione arguing over where to go as she walks toward a window displaying magical animals. The mice are running round and round their cage, running on their exercise wheel, obviously trying to get her attention. Show-offs.
She hears Ron say," Fine, you and Ginny go to Flourish and Blott's, and we'll meet you at the Three Broomsticks in an hour."
Nice of them to ask me where I want to go. But, of course, I'm just Ginny.
Hermione grabs her by the arm and begins steering her toward the book store. "Honestly," she says angrily, shaking her head. "Your brother is so impossible."
And you are so in love.
Hermione drops her arm after a moment, and Ginny follows her like an obedient puppy. When they reach Flourish and Blott's, Hermione goes off looking for a book about ancient Runes, and Ginny wanders the aisles, scanning the titles.
She hears someone call her name. Their voice is deadly quiet, but she hears them like they are standing right beside her. She looks wildly around, her pulse quickening . But no one is looking at her.
You're losing it, Weasley.
She shakes her head and grabs a copy of 100 Things You Didn't Know About Gillyweed. She is flipping absently through the pages when it happens again.
This time, she doesn't look around, but she freezes, her hand poised above the pages. She waits for it to happen again, and when it does, it is more clear than before.
Ginny.
The book drops from her hand. That voice. . . She knows that voice. No, it's impossible.
Ginny.
Tom?