August 9, 1995, 12 Grimmauld Place

We've finally finished cleaning the drawing room. It's taken nearly three days, but it's done, at last. We've managed to take down all of the tapestries. Now, the only undesirable things left in the room are the Black family tree (which just refused to budge) and the rattling writing desk.

Mum wants to wait until Moody stops by to see what's inside the writing desk. She's almost positive that it's a boggart, but, just to be safe, she says that she ought to have Moody check it out first. His magical blue eye can see through walls and things like that (!), so he's probably the best person to ask.

I had some fun during our lunch break. I was trying to imagine what everyone's boggart would be. Hermione's would probably be a piece of homework that only got nine out of ten. Ron's is obviously a spider (even a two-year-old could figure that one out). Fred and George's would probably be sitting behind desks at the Ministry.

When I came to Harry, I couldn't think of what he could possibly be afraid of. At first, I thought his boggart would be You-Know-Who, but he doesn't seem too frightened of him. A dementor perhaps? Or maybe a Ministry official snapping his wand in half…?

I started to think about what my own boggart would be. Riddle? Or something else, maybe.

After lunch ended, Mum informed us that we would be starting on the ground floor dining room first thing tomorrow morning. Hermione and I took a peek inside, and we're in for a load of work. There are cobwebs on everything and there are tons of pictures lining walls.

Fan-bloody-tastic. I'm going to spend my day tomorrow looking at pictures of convicted Death Eaters. Lovely.

Mum left us alone for the rest of the day, but when everyone retreated upstairs, I slipped into the kitchen, where Mum was starting on dinner. She smiled at me and I waited a few moments before asking her The Question.

"Are we going to Diagon Alley this summer?"

Mum didn't turn around for a while, so I thought she didn't hear me. But when she did turn around to face me, she had a sad smile on her face and she was shaking her head.

"I'm not so sure, Ginny dear." Mum told me. "Not with all of the Order things going on."

I considered telling her that the main reason I want to go to Diagon Alley so much is so that I can meet Michael, but I decided against it. It was a fair decision, too. Just seconds after I decided to keep my mouth shut, Ron wandered into the kitchen, asking if there were any leftover sandwiches from lunch.

Honestly, all my brother seems to think about is food! And Hermione, of course. Personally, I believe his mind is evenly divided between thinking about eating, Quidditch, and Hermione. If only I had scientific evidence to back myself up. I could make loads of Galleons. I can see it now:

"Step right up, step right up! For the meager price of two Galleons, you can speak to the boy who only ever thinks about three things! Step right up!"

Ah…that will be the day.

Hermione is babbling on and on about S.P.E.W. She's started thinking about it again ever since Sirius shut Kreacher out of the drawing room this morning, so he couldn't try and salvage the tapestries that Sirius wanted to be thrown away with the rest of the rubbish.

"Kreacher is old. He doesn't know what he's doing!" Hermione had begged while Sirius pushed Kreacher out of the room and bolted the door behind him. Her pleas fell upon deaf ears.

Oh, how I wish I were deaf at this moment, so I couldn't hear her raging on about elfish rights and the welfare for all cleaning creatures.

But if I were deaf, then I could never again hear Michael's voice, or listen to the Dream Lullaby at night. So forget that entire "I wish I was deaf" part. I think I can handle listening to Hermione, now that I think about it.

I wrote Michael a letter right after I received my answer from Mum. I put all of my disappointment into words on the parchment, and I sent it off with Pigwidgeon. I hope he understands that I'm not purposely staying out of Diagon Alley. I told Michael that my parents are deeply upset about the death of Cedric Diggory, and that they don't really want to bring the family anywhere this year.

Of course, I couldn't just tell him that I'm living at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, so hopefully, my explanation will be enough.

I caught Hermione writing a letter to Viktor Krum earlier on this evening. I thought that she had severed ties with that Durmstrang graduate, but apparently, he and her are now "pen pals".

Ha. I never knew that if a boy desperately wanted you, that you could become pen pals.

It was so obvious during the Yule Ball. Krum was crazy about Hermione. Something tells me that he isn't quite happy about just being her pen pal.

And something tells me that Ron isn't going to be too happy when he finds out that Hermione is still writing to Krum.

Oh, no! I won't tell Ron that Hermione's writing to him. I wouldn't even dream of it. I'm just saying that he's bound to find out eventually, and when he does…

Let's just say that I don't want to be in the same room as Ron for several months.

Good night!

-Ginny


I'm really loving writing this story. Can you tell?

First off, I'd like to send hugs and kisses out to all of my reviewers! You guys are so wonderful; I can't even use words to describe! I'm nearing 400 reviews, and I honestly didn't expect more than 50!

Thanks for everyone who wants to know how I'm feeling. I'm doing a bit better, but I'm still running a fever. I haven't been outside in two days, and I'm pining for my bike and tennis racket.

Let's hope that the fever breaks soon!

I hope that everyone enjoyed this chapter just as much as I enjoyed writing it. The summer is almost over…it's so sad! But you can expect a sequel come December.

You know what to do.

R-E-V-I-E-W!

-Rox