Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, they are the brilliant works of the marvelous J.K.Rowling. I also do not own Coldplay or To Kill A Mockingbird, by Harper Lee.
CHAPTER 26
For that day and the day after, everything at Hogwarts ground to a halt. All classes were cancelled and everyone wandered around aimlessly, unsure of what to do. There was a hole now, a hole that only Hermione could fill, and there was not a person in the place that did not feel it. At every meal the Gryffindors would sit and stare at the space where the young girl used to sit, always expecting her to be there whenever they looked up. Whenever the doors to the Great Hall would open there was not a head in the room that did not look over expecting her to waltz in at any moment, smiling happily.
Ginny spent that day and then next in bed. She didn't talk to anyone, or eat. She hardly even moved. She laid there and waited to wake up. The only people she had spoken to were Harry and Ron, but they didn't say much. Mostly sat and cried together. But they had all had a dream. Hermione had picked each of their favourite places to say goodbye to them. Harry's dream was by the lake. Ron's was on the Quidditch Pitch; Hermione had flown up to him on her own broomstick and said her goodbye's right in front of the goal Ron so famously defended. And Ginny's was on a secluded part of the roof of Hogwarts; a place where Ginny often went to get away and only the two of them knew about.
The night after it all happened, Ginny couldn't sleep. She got out of bed for the first time in two days and left the Gryffindor dorms. She walked down the corridor and stood outside Hermione's old room. After standing there for a minute, she hoarsely said the password Dumbledore had given her all those weeks before and the little man opened the door. Seeing the room gave Ginny a sick feeling, but she stepped in anyway. She walked slowly up the stairs and paused in front of Hermione's bedroom door. She could not bring herself to twist the handle, but she had come here for a purpose, and she was not leaving until she completed it. She opened the bedroom door and surveyed the room. I was just as Hermione had left it. There was a stack of books on the floor next to her bed and her covers were pulled back slightly, as if she had gotten out of bed and left it that way. Ginny started crying, and could only stand there and stare for a minute or so. Then she remembered why she had come.
She walked towards the bed and lifted the heavy mattress. There, between two slats, was a brown, leather bound diary she recognised to be Hermione's. She took the diary from between the slats and replaced the mattress. She sat on the end of the bed and opened the diary to the first page. Normally it would be considered rude to read someone else's diary, but not in this case. Hermione and Ginny were best friends. They told each other everything and often shared the contents of their diaries with each other anyway. The first page read:
Well, here I am again. Sitting in the Head Girl's bedroom at Hogwarts. I can't believe the Summer went to quickly but I'm excited to be back at school. I'll make this a short entry because I ma rather tired and want to be well rested for my first day of classes tomorrow. Wow, I'm actually Head Girl. I'm so excited, I don't want to waste a second of this year. I want to at least get to know the name and a little about each and every first year in the school and add to what I already know about everyone else. I'm going to be more outgoing and enjoy this year to the full.
I think that's all for now. There's never much to write on the first day. Tomorrow will be a longer entry. Now I'm going to study for awhile and then go to bed.
Hermione.
Ginny sat for hours and read the entire diary, cover to cover. Every word her late friend wrote she read and entry by entry, pieced together of her and Draco. She cried in parts, and laughed in others, and by the time she finished she wished desperately that she could have her friend back and talk to her about everything she had just read. She wished her friend had reached out to her, but also understood why she could not. She took the diary with her. Hermione's message was not finished yet, and she had some people she needed to talk to. She carefully made Hermione's bed the way she always liked it and left the room, diary in hand.