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I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!

The world had been destroyed. He was sure the world was suddenly and tragically destroyed. There was no logical explanation. Christopher Hopkins could not be his mother's admirer. He couldn't be. James married Lily not Christopher. How could she?

Harry was sitting in Ron's room at the Burrow. The Weasley family had decided that they needed to be at home, and they took Harry and Hermione along. Ron was always badgering Harry about what Lily was like and what she was saying. It had gotten to a point where Harry would leave the room if Ron ever entered. He couldn't stand to hear any more 'has she kissed James yet?' or, 'Is she all girly?' or 'is she like Hermione? Is she one of those girls who act a lot like boys?' Harry seriously didn't want tell Ron what his mother was like. How could he? Ron had no idea how hard it was to read this and in the back of your head all you hear reminders that this was not any girl. How can you characterize your MOTHER?

Hermione on the other hand had decided to ignore Harry all together, as if he didn't exist. Harry decided that she wanted to help him by giving him time to let it sink in. But he didn't need time to let it sink in! He needed a girl to explain things he would never understand. Like why girls would obsess over kissing boys on a list. He needed a girl.

Harry shut the Journal and shoved it into his pillowcase. He decided to stop reading for a while. As Harry walked out of the room he punched the wall as hard as he would allow himself to. Pretty boy Christopher COULD NOT be the Secret admirer. That would be wrong, sick and wrong. When He walked in the kitchen Ron began his interrogation. "What's happening? Does she still hate your dad? Is there another boy? Am I going to have to steal that diary to get answers?"

Harry sat down at the table, "Ron do me a favor and shut up."

"Seriously Ron," said Hermione, who had just walked in, "You are being so inconsiderate. The last thing Harry needs is an annoying pest who won't give him time to think things through. This is his mother! It's not like he's reading my diary." Hermione conjured herself some tea and sat down. Harry grabbed an apple from the middle of the table and angrily took a large bite. "Oh please Harry, don't choke yourself." Hermione looked at him wryly. "Is there something bothering you?"

Harry sat up straighter in his chair. "Er," he wanted to tell her so bad, but he didn't want to sound stupid. "No, nothing is bothering me." He wanted to kick himself. No there was something wrong! Harry opened him mouth to talk and quickly shut it when Ginny walked in.

Then it hit him. Yes Hermione was his best friend, but best friends only have your best interest in mind, what if she would change things so that it would be easier on him? Ginny sat down and greeted everyone at the table with a nod or a grunt. Harry opened his mouth to ask Ginny if she would talk with him for a moment when Mrs. Weasley walked in.

"Oh dear me," she said, sounding distressed, "I am very sorry dears. You are all sitting around my table looking absolutely starved and I am off having a conversation at the fire with Pearl. I am terribly sorry. Two of you are guests even! I can't believe myself. You must be thinking horrible things about me," she continued to ramble about proper etiquette, family before friends, and what not.

They all knew better than to interrupt her. She was very firm headed and couldn't seem to take things any other way. A trait she had given to her youngest son and only daughter. Harry poked Ginny, who jumped and stared at Harry.

"What was that for?" she whispered.

"Come with me," he motioned for her to follow him, "We need to talk."

"That is no reason to poke me!" she rubbed her arm and followed Harry out of the kitchen. "Now what do you want?"

"I need a favor." Harry looked around, "You know I am reading my mother's diary right?"

"Yes, everyone knows." Harry stared at her quizzically, "It is all Ron seems to talk about."

Harry shook his head. "Whatever. I need your help." Harry paused. Ginny stared at him and motioned for him to continue. "Er, I don't really understand. It is a teenage girl's journal, I just don't understand half the things that are such a huge deal, or why she does the things she does. I need a girl to..." Harry couldn't find a word, or at least one that wouldn't sound rude.

"Translate it for you," finished Ginny. "You don't understand how a girl's mind works. You want someone to clear things up for you. Don't worry, I'll help you." Harry stared at Ginny.

"Er.."

"You are welcome." She turned and walked out of the room.


There was a knock on the door. Harry jumped. He had just woken up from a nap since he had stayed up so late hearing about the "romantic dinner". He sat up and yawned. "C'mon in"

The door opened and Ginny walked to the bed. "So are you going to help me?" asked Harry, stretching.

"You do know that I can't help you until I have read the diary too." She crossed her arms and sat on the bed. "I wouldn't be able to know the circumstances. Also, I can't explain everything unless she has been a bit detailed in her descriptions." Harry shook his head and grabbed his pillow and handed it to Ginny. "Wha..."

"It's inside the pillowcase," Harry yawned again.

Ginny reached into the pillow and took out the Journal. "Thank You." She threw the pillow at Harry and left him to sleep.


Ginny shut the Diary. She had read it cover to cover in one night. Why couldn't her life be as dramatic? It was like reading a real book, only this one was seriously true. Ginny couldn't believe what Harry was getting into by reading his mother's diary. Things were happening in Lily's life that, WOW. Ginny put the book down. She suppressed a giggle. Maybe having an exciting life is genetic. Harry could not deny the fact that his life was a little more exciting than a normal persons. Lily's life is not exactly boring either. How could she even get close to describing things accurately with all of those circumstances?


Harry sat on Ginny's bed. He couldn't believe she had already read the entire book. He had just gotten it two days ago and someone else besides him knows more about his mother than he did. "So what don't you understand?"

"Christopher," grunted Harry, "Why is Christopher so wonderful? What makes him so attractive and HOW COULD SHE DO THIS TO ME?"

Ginny laughed. "You really don't get it do you?"

"What?"

Ginny grabbed Harry and shook him by the shoulders, "She is a teenage girl. She does not have a son, not yet at least. And you know this is just a short term crush."

"HOW DO YOU KNOW?"

"Look in the mirror and you will figure it out," said Ginny as if she were talking to a 3 year old. "It is not as if the first person you date will always be who you will end up marrying and having 20 children with. I have dated a number of boys and I tell you I am not marrying all of them. Who knows? I may not marry any of them! I could marry you for all I know!"

Harry's insides did a weird squirm, That would be nice he thought dreamily. "Yeah I guess."

"Another example," Ginny began pacing using her fingers to list the instances, "You and Cho are not getting married and you dated. Hermione and Krum are not going to get married. Ron and Padma are definitely not going to have babies together. Michael and I, EW, are never even going to speak to each other again if I have my way." She stopped and faced Harry. 'You see?"

"WHY DID SHE DO THAT TO ME?"

"Oh!" Ginny put a mirror in front of Harry's face and sighted. "Get it?"

"Er," Harry stared at himself. What is she trying to prove? Did she expect him to just now suddenly realize that the thing in the mirror really was him? Harry looked at himself some more and it hit him. He had his mother's eyes. He was his mother's and his father's son. It didn't matter about the past, it mattered about now. As long as Christopher was out of the picture by the time his parents exchanged vows. He would be fine. He, Harry, is living proof of Lily's love for James, NOT CHRISTOPHER.

Yeah, I know it is disappointing everyone, but that is the point I want to get across, and that seemed good enough. Until later!