Disclaimer: Don't own it; just borrowing it; no money being made here, unfortunately.

A/N: So glad to see that you're enjoying this. Thanks for your nice words.

November 11

Well, I did indeed show my diary to Harry. I started out with 'the' chapter and my, oh my, it did have the desired effect! I read it aloud to him. It was really something watching him as I read, studying his reactions.  Part way through, he took the book from my hands and began to read himself. You have no idea how exciting it was hearing my words come from his lips. Listening to him describe himself as I saw him, hearing my account of what he was doing to me – Merlin! It was totally hot. We shagged like mad and it was wonderful. It always is wonderful but somehow reliving that night added just a little extra spice, if you know what I mean.

Afterwards, Harry asked if I minded if he read my whole diary. He said it would bring us even closer if got a further glimpse inside my head. What could I say? Of course, I let him read it, but with a warning. I just wanted him to be prepared for what he would read during the time I was waiting for his return. I made him promise not to feel guilty and that I understood why he stayed away for so long.

When he finished reading the whole diary, he thanked me for sharing something so very, very intimate with him. He added that he wished he had kept one too, just so he could share his with me. That way, we would be equal. Harry said it was going to be hard for him not to feel a sense of guilt over what he put me through but he was going to try very hard not to let it affect him. He, of course, had known he had hurt me deeply; he just didn't know the extent of it. My diary had made that painfully clear to him. He held me tightly in his arms and whispered gently, 'I'm so sorry for hurting you Claire. I had to stay away. It was something I needed to do for me. I love you so much.' I know all this and I forgave him a long time ago. I told him that I shouldn't have let him read it after all. He hushed me and said, no, he was glad I did.

As we were laying in each others arms Harry said something unusual to me. He said I owed it to my diary to finish it. He said I should at least write down how it was we finally came to be together.

I guess Harry is right. I should at least finish the saga of that chapter of my life. I have never been one for leaving things undone, so here goes…

October 9, 1998 - I'll never forget that night. It was a Friday evening and I had just finished grading some papers and was preparing to retire for the evening. I never looked forward to going to sleep anymore. It was always so hard since my head was always filled with tormenting thoughts of Harry.  I heard a tap-tap at the window. I remember thinking 'what could that be?' I opened the window and in popped a snowy white owl. It was Hedwig - Harry's owl! My heart began to beat furiously. It felt as if it would explode in my chest. Was this the word I had been waiting for, praying for? I gave her a crust of bread from a sandwich I had been eating earlier on and unfastened the letter that was attached to her leg. Before I knew it, Hedwig was gone, flying back into the darkness. My heart sunk. Harry was not waiting for a reply. She would have stayed with me if he had instructed her to wait. I took the letter and sat down on the sofa, just staring at the envelope. There was one word written on the front – Claire; it was written in Harry's handwriting. I sat for the longest time before I got up the courage to open it up. With a trembling hand I finally took a deep breath and did it. I still remember to this day what Harry had written (I should; I must have read it a million times):

My dearest Claire,

I am sorry it has taken me so long to get back to you, but I have found myself at a loss for words. I have been struggling all this time as to what I was going to say. I still don't know for sure but I have to do this for I have been unfair to you.

Let me begin by saying that the night we spent together was the most incredible night I have ever had in my life. I had spent so much time over the months thinking about you, fantasizing about you, wanting you. What we did was so much more than I had ever dreamed of – my piss-poor fantasies couldn't hold a candle to our reality. You were so beautiful, so sexy, so delicious that evening. I would be lying to you if I said I didn't want more. I would be a fool not to! Just thinking about it now, well, let me just say I am having a very hard time concentrating.

Claire, I know you have feelings for me that go beyond your fantasy. I could see that look in your eyes; the look that burned into my soul. To be honest with you, it scared me a little. I have some feelings for you as well, but unlike you, I am not sure what those feelings are. I am not sure if it is just desire or if it is something more.

I have a lot of things to work out. I haven't come to terms with what happened to me last May. I know I appear calm about the whole thing, but the truth is I am not. It is hard for me to accept that I killed someone. Even though it was Voldemort, I find myself having some feelings of guilt. I know nobody could possibly understand how I could feel this way, but I do. It is a reality for me. As you can well imagine, that has been hard to deal with. I must find a way to accept what I have done and this is something I must do on my own, no one can help me. I need to be alone, to be away from Hogwarts, to see the world, to experience life. I need to find out who Harry Potter is because I don't recognize him anymore. I don't know who he is or what he wants. Hopefully one day, I will have the answers to all my questions.

So my dearest Claire, I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I am sorry if I have hurt you. I have a sneaking feeling that I did, and very much so. Please remember it is nothing that you did or didn't do, it is me, and only me who doesn't know what he wants.

Don't wait for me. Promise me that you will move on with your life. Whatever you do, please don't stop teaching because you are fantastic. You were born to be a teacher.

I wish I could say we will meet again, but that would be a lie for I don't know what the future holds. If we never see one another again, I hope you can keep me tucked away in a little corner of your heart. I know I will never, ever forget you.

Be happy Claire. You deserve it.

Harry

Merlin! I pulled out the letter and I did remember it exactly as it was written. It brought tears to my eyes, just as it did so long ago. I said that I had wanted to know one way or the other what Harry was feeling, but this was definitely not what I had hoped to hear. It was my damned heart again, still not letting me see reality. I had still believed he would come back to me with a declaration of love. Looking back now, trying to capture in words how I felt at that moment, I feel that emptiness anew. I can not begin to describe to you the utter devastation. I don't think I have ever felt so low. I spent the next two days in a haze, completely consumed by grief and self-pity. I read that letter over and over, trying to find some hidden meaning, something between the lines that I had missed. There was no such thing. Harry had been crystal clear in his words.  He said he wasn't sure about how he felt about me. I am really and truly amazed that I didn't pick up on his doubt and run with it. I could very easily have sat there with that little spark of hope that maybe he would come to realize that he did love me. Hmm, interesting! At that point, I must have really convinced myself that all Harry wanted was to shag me. I suppose this was for the best, for it allowed me to move on, eventually. That took a very, very long time.

I remember getting up that first Monday morning, not wanting to leave my rooms, let alone teach a class. It took every ounce of strength that I had to force myself to do it. I am sure it must have been a very lackluster lesson, but I did it. And then the next one, and the next and so on. Gradually, it got easier. I threw myself into my work; this was natural since it was the only thing that I had. Thank Merlin for it too because I don't think I would have ever come around.

The nights remained, as always, the most difficult. The night finds you alone, alone with only your thoughts to keep you company.  Sometimes those thoughts do not make good bedfellows. Harry had told me not to blame myself but I couldn't help thinking that perhaps there was something I could have done or said that would have made a difference. I played our time together over and over in my head, still searching for something, anything. I had been correct when I wondered if Harry had hushed me because he didn't want to hear what I had to say. That hurt more than I can say.

The days moved on, ever so slowly. I did as well. As I said previously, my work became everything to me. I was determined to have a successful professional life. This was in sharp contrast to my personal life which was in shambles. I rarely, if ever left Hogwarts. The few times that I did, it was because I was in need of some item or another and had to go shopping. I used to be an avid shopper, taking hours and hours at the task. I loved shopping for bargains, comparing and pricing from shop to shop. That was another of my pleasures that was lost to me. It became a task of necessity. I knew what I required and would get it and return straight away to school, seeking the solitude and safety of my rooms. I became a recluse.

I never utter a single word of my ordeal to another living soul. I never confided with any of my colleagues. I suppose I never felt that close to any of them. They could surely see that I had changed. I have a hunch that Minerva might have figured out what was going on. Many times she asked me if there was anything on my mind. I always replied that there wasn't. She in turn said that her door was always open and if I ever needed a sympathetic ear, she was there for me. I thanked her but never took her up on the offer. Would it have helped me? Possibly. I could never bring myself to seek her out. I think I could not bear to say the words aloud. It is bad enough to hear them in your head, but to hear them issuing form your lips? No, I couldn't. I suffered alone and in silence.

The days turned into months and before I knew it, the school year had ended. I no longer had the distraction of students and classes to keep me and my mind occupied, so I turned to the greenhouses and gardens to keep me sane. I devoted myself to my first love in order to keep the thoughts of my true love away. Albus tried very hard to get me to go away on holiday but I declined. I think he and Minerva both knew. He must have known. Very little gets by our beloved Headmaster.  He always looked at me strangely. How can I describe his look – kindly, concerned, a little sad, but with an undercurrent of a smile. It always gave me a feeling that he knew something I didn't.

At the end of August, 1999, I was looking forward to my third year teaching. We had a new member of the staff. Her name was Susan Geoffreys, and she came to Hogwarts to be our new Charms teacher. Professor Flitwick had decided he had had enough and had left Hogwarts to take a much deserved rest.

Susan was just a few years older than me and we struck up an immediate friendship. It felt good to have someone closer to my own age around. We became close but I never told her about Harry. She knew that I had had a difficult relationship with someone but I never told her the details. She never me pressed to reveal more. It was with her help that I began to come out of my self-imposed seclusion. It took her awhile, but she finally managed to get me out of the school and back into the real world. We began with little excursions to Diagon Alley, sometimes to do a little shopping, sometimes for a meal. Gradually, it became easier for me. I started to feel like my old self once again. It had begun to show. Albus whispered to me one afternoon after tea, 'It is good to see you smile again, Claire.' He gave my arm a little pat and then walked away.

Although I changed, Harry was still with me, wherever I went, whatever I did. The pain was till there, but it had grown into a dull ache rather than searing agony.

By Christmas of that year, Susan had convinced me, I don't know how, that we should go clubbing. She told me over and over that it was time that I got out and met someone new. I think I finally gave in just to get her off my back. I really didn't want to go and to say that I was panicked was an understatement. I forced myself.   We went out a few times before I finally met someone who was interested. Was I interested in him? Vaguely. He was certainly handsome – tall, muscular, blue eyes, long red hair. There was something familiar about him even though I knew I had never met him before. We struck up a conversation and I found out why I felt like I knew him. His name was Bill - Bill Weasley. He was Ron's oldest brother. Small world! I asked about Ron. He and Hermione were recently married. I told Bill to say hi for me and give them my congratulations. It was very difficult to do, but I resisted the temptation to ask him about the wedding, more specifically the wedding guests. I refused to go there. We talked about other things. He worked for Gringotts in London. I liked him well enough; Bill was easy-going, had a good sense of humor and was pretty much laid back. We agreed to see one another again. He kissed me on our third date. We made love for the first time on our fifth. How would I describe it? Spectacularly ordinary. I wanted to enjoy it and I did, somewhat. I tried very hard not to compare him to Harry. I remember thinking to myself over and over, 'Don't think about Harry, don't think about Harry'. This proved to be an impossible task. I couldn't help myself. With Bill, there was no spark, no heat, no passion. We saw each other for about six weeks and during the whole time I attempted to create something more between us, but it was no good. I couldn't do it. I broke things off with him. Poor Bill, he tried really hard but it was all down to me. 

I tried a few more times with a couple of very nice wizards but it was useless. They left me feeling the same way Bill had done – empty, unfulfilled, lonely. Susan told me I had to keep trying if I was ever going to get over this mystery man of mine. How could I? I knew no man could ever measure up. What had I done to myself? I had set myself up for failure. How was I ever to let go of him? Damn you Harry Potter! Damn myself for loving him!

Susan and I went on holiday together during the summer break. We did have a marvelous time. We decided to pull out all the stops and booked ourselves a tour of Europe. We stayed in the finest Wizarding hotels money could buy. It was great. I came back to Hogwarts refreshed and ready to begin a new year. Little did I know what was coming!

On August 31, 2000, we had our first staff meeting of the term. Albus announced that once again we were to have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. What else? We had had a new one every year since I had been at Hogwarts. There is a rumor amongst the students that the position is cursed, hence no one stays for more than a year. I don't know if this is true or not, but it sure seems like it is. There is also a rumor that Severus wants the job. Heaven knows why Dumbledore doesn't give it to him. This new person was unavoidably detained and would arrive only the following day. I didn't think much about it at the time.

The next day, Susan and I made our way to the Great Hall for the usual opening day festivities. We took up our spots and waited for the first years to arrive. I was anxious for everything to get under way when the doors opened. I looked over and saw that a dark haired man was racing up to the head table. This must be the new chap, I thought. As he drew nearer, my heart suddenly seemed to stop beating. My whole body began to tremble as I realized who it was – Harry!

Albus greeted him with a big hug and a huge grin. 'Welcome, Professor Potter,' he said.

Harry returned the hug and said thank you. He greeted his old acquaintances – Minerva, Hagrid, Severus, and Poppy and introduced himself to Susan. Then there was me, sitting there, white as Nearly Headless Nick, totally and completely stunned. I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. Our eyes met. Harry came over, took my hand, and kissed me on the cheek saying, 'Claire, so nice to see you again.' I was speechless. I could see Susan staring at me. I knew that the pieces of the puzzle just fell into place for her. Harry took his seat next to Albus and the Sorting Ceremony began.

I did not hear one word of it. I did not hear one word of Albus' speech. Time had frozen; my mind had stopped. All I could think about was getting the hell out of there. Here was the man I had longed to see for so long and all I wanted to do was leave. I suppose it was the shock of seeing him like that, in front of the whole school. I have often wondered what my reaction would have been if I had seen him just as suddenly but in private.

I barely ate a thing. I only pushed the food around on my plate to give the appearance that I was eating. I could feel eyes burning upon me: Susan's – desperate to hear the story I had avoided telling her for so long; Harry's – well, his I had no idea about.

After what had seemed like an eternity, Albus finally dismissed the students. This was my cue to go, and that I did. I flew out of the Great Hall like a bat out of hell. I could hear Susan calling after me to wait up, but I paid her no mind. I ran all the way back to my quarters and slammed the door behind me.

How did I feel at that moment? Shocked, angry, terrified, numb… As I had suspected that Albus knew of my feelings for Harry, how could he not have warned me of his arrival? It could not have been a worse place for me to find out – in front of the whole school. Perhaps he thought that it was the perfect place since I would be unable to react as I might have otherwise done. I was angry with Harry as well. He, too, could have given me some notice. I was a victim of a conspiracy, or so I thought.

Oh Merlin, I was so terrified! I was afraid of what he would tell me; I couldn't bear to hear him tell me all over again what he had written me. I was afraid he would tell me he had found someone else. I was more afraid than ever that I would fall for him all over again, even though I knew he didn't want me. I was certain that I wasn't strong enough to stand up to him. I knew that my heart was still his and always would be.

I was numb, feeling completely overwhelmed by my emotions. How was I going to face him? I remember that I cursed him for ever returning to Hogwarts. Why did he have to come here I asked myself over and over.

There was a knock at my door. My heart stopped. What if it was him? I very timidly asked who it was – it was Susan. She wanted to now if I was okay but mostly she wanted in. I hesitated briefly and then opened the door. I told her that I wasn't okay, that I wasn't sure if I would ever be again.

She gave me a hug and I began to cry. She said, 'It's him, isn't it?'

I finally confessed my secret to her, the one that I had been so desperately trying to hide from her all this time. I told her the whole story. It some ways it felt good to finally tell someone what I had been through. I was a little afraid that she would judge me, tell me I was foolish for having reacted so. I guess Susan was a true friend, because she didn't pass judgment on me; she listened.

She asked what I was going to do. I couldn't answer that since I had no clue what to do. I remember telling her that I would just have to try to cope the best I could. She gave me some advice – face up to him and my fears; talk to him she said. Easier said than done! I told her I didn't know if I was ready for that. She said I'd do it when the time was right. Whew! What I night! I hugged Susan and thanked her for listening and for being such a good friend. I made her swear that she wouldn't breathe a word of what I had told her to anyone, especially Harry.

She left and needless to say I didn't get much sleep that night. My life had taken a most unexpected turn. I wondered how it was possible to be terrified of someone that I loved so desperately and wanted so much to be with. Yes, terror was a good description of how I was feeling that night.

Goodness, I never thought writing this all down would be so difficult! I am sitting here and suddenly I feel emotionally drained, almost to the point of exhaustion. The hour is quite late, so I think I shall bid you good night, dear Diary. I promise to pick up my quill again tomorrow. Now, all I want to do is go to bed, snuggle up with my darling Harry and have a peaceful night's sleep.