Chapter Two: Saying Goodbye

"You're not going back to Hogwarts?" Ginny exclaimed. She had on the same blue robes from the previous day.

In deep thought and disappointment, Ginny absentmindedly followed the movements of the plastic bag, which contained the dress she had worn for dinner, that she swung by her side. Aunt Petunia had insisted that she kept the dress since it had looked so nice on her and that Aunt Petunia herself had never worn it as a girl. She had, however, all but prised the loaned classy black court shoes from Ginny's grip, claiming that there was no need for a girl so young to have any need for the pair. Having watched the two debate heatedly about this had made Harry realise that perhaps another girl in the house was something Aunt Petunia had missed out on. And there was no mistaking the soft glint in his Aunt's eye anytime the strong sun rays glistened off of Ginny's red mane.

While the bright red hair had an encouraged an association, there was something else about Ginny that reminded Aunt Petunia of her sister. Of simpler days, filled with laughter and fights and a fresh excitement for life. Thoughts of her childhood had been extremely sobering for Aunt Petunia, her eyes had hardened and her back straightened. Quickly noticing the change Ginny had murmured an apology for being obtuse but Aunt Petunia merely retreated further within herself, suddenly seeming smaller and sadder than she had in a long while. But she, aware of the children's attentiveness, had propelled herself back into hostess-mode and produced another plastic bag for Ginny; this one holding enough cake for her and her brothers in several wrapped parcels.

Ginny was playing with a lock of hair, still damp from her shower, as she waited for his reply.

"No." Harry shook his head ruefully. "I'll write though, I promise." They were sitting on the front door-step, waiting for Ginny's parents.

"Oh, that's such a shame! Where are you going? To another magic school?"

Again Harry shook his head. "No. Aunt Petunia said it was a muggle school, somewhere in France."

Ginny sighed. She had been hoping that she would have someone at Hogwarts that she knew, someone other than her brothers.

They had been sitting on the front doorstep, talking for some time now. Harry looked at his watch. The Weasleys should have been there half an hour ago. He glanced at Ginny out of the corner of his eye and saw that she was pretty calm. Was it normal for families to be late? He wouldn't like it, personally. The Dursleys were never late for anything, never had been, Aunt Petunia always made sure that they had fifteen minutes to spare for whatever they had to do. Whether that sort of organisation normal, Harry wasn't sure but he liked it.

But the question of 'normal' bugged him – the Dursleys always tried so hard to be ordinary and ideal. Harry looked around the front-yard, as if seeing with new eyes. Even the small lawn was perfectly square, the blades of grass stood ridged, uniform like an army. And this was just the outside of her home; Aunt Petunia took care of the house intensively every day and when he was home, made Harry participate in her regime too. But was it normal? He took a finger and ran it down a crease on the white doorpost that he was leaning against. He examined that same finger and not dirt nor dust stained it. If anything, Harry noted with slight apprehension, the only thing that marred the post now would be the oil from his fingertip. He sighed to himself. 'Perhaps this is a level of normal that only exists inside Aunt Petunia's head.' Harry began to turn his head to look behind him, to take in the scene he had taken for granted his whole life. 'No-one even takes notice or praises her for all the hard work she puts in. She is a wife and a mother, but gets treated like a house-maid.'

But when turned to look at the kitchen that he expected to be shining and smelling faintly of cleaning products – completely recovered from last night's chaos – he spied Aunt Petunia approaching them.

'Is it a safety issue that I can see right through the house, right to the garden? Shouldn't there be walls and stuff blocking my view? With such an open floor plan it would be really for someone to map out for a break-in if they wanted. Especially with us just sitting here with the front-door wide open.' Suddenly alert, Harry scoped the street to make sure no-one was doing just. The street was just as quiet as usual, birds chirped from the tall trees and one of Mrs. Figg's cats prowled underneath. Everything looked as it usually did, yes, but that did not mean that invisible threats didn't exist. 'Wow, if this is what a school year does to you in the wizarding world, perhaps it is a blessing that I am leaving,' Harry realised as he forced down a sense of growing paranoia.

"There are some sandwiches inside if you want some." Harry jumped slightly, he had been too engrossed in his own thoughts. Ginny nodded and thanked his Aunt for the both of them. When Aunt Petunia had found the time to make the sandwiches, Harry did not know. She had spent all morning outside tending to the garden and cleaning the shed... Harry studied his Aunt for a moment and realised that not one hair was out of place, nor sweat on her brow. He frowned as she waved demurely to the old couple across the street who had just emerged from their house. Even Aunt Petunia always looked neat and tidy.

It was a change though, food being left on the counter and waiting to be eaten. His Aunt was a mystery but he was hungry and Dudley clearly wasn't around. Harry laughed to himself quietly as he remembered that his cousin had been invited to go paintballing with Piers Polkiss and the usual gang. He hoped that losing wouldn't put Dudley in too much of a sour mood.

"I don't want to get up." He whined, quite loudly too, and Aunt Petunia snorted before disappearing back inside the house. Ginny smirked at Harry's complaint.

"Watch this." She said slightly mischievously. Did he really want to watch? He looked at her carefully trying to decipher what she was going to do; her brothers were the Weasley twins and that was a fact not to be forgotten.

She screwed up her eyes and to Harry's amazement it was not long before a plate of sandwiches came floating toward them. Harry looked at Ginny shocked. The plate drifted down onto the step.

"You must be quite powerful." Harry said picking up a sandwich made up of left over lamb. As Ginny shook her head Harry went on to say, "You must be. You manage to do intentional wandless magic so effortlessly. You moved my desk chair too! Our Quidditch Captain, Oliver, had been complaining about how tired his classes was making him recently – he's a real Quidditch fanatic and anything that effects his game is a problem. But anyway, his classes were tiring him out because some of the professors had started encouraging him to do wordless and wandless magic. Apparently very few wizards and witches can harness that, but it's supposed to be a good advantage in a fight."

He had learnt about quite a few odd bits and pieces over the course of the year as people were always eager to talk to the Boy-Who-Lived. He had ended up a quite knowledgeable first year but not in the typical way that Hermione or some Ravenclaws could boast about. And it wasn't just anecdotal knowledge he had acquired. As soon as he had learnt about his new world, he had become curious and so when the time was right and he was able to, he read up on a lot of things and read around his subjects. He may not have gone so far as to memorise his potions book, but thinking that he would enjoy it, he knew about the field in a different way to most students. In a way that had not benefited him at all, he wasn't even in the slightest successful in his classes but then again not much learning could be done in an environment where the teacher did not actually like children or want to teach.

They ate in silence before Ginny cleared her throat nervously.

"Are you... Are you terribly upset about not being able to go?" Ginny regretted asking, after she had. Of course he was upset about it.

"No." Harry was shaking his head slowly. Seeing Ginny's shocked look he smiled softly and elaborated.

"I mean, I was at first, but I get to start anew now. No-one from around here will be avoiding me because I'm 'Dudley's Freak Cousin' - I'm not going to Stonewall high like the rest. I'm not going back to the wizarding world where I'm famous. Last year was horrid, you know, even though it was like a dream. All the teachers seemed to be comparing me to my parents and treated me differently to everyone else. Even Dumbledore! In some ways it was advantageous – if any other student had pulled what I did last year, Gin, they would have been punished at the very least – but I was rewarded, I won Gryffindor the House Cup. The students treated me different too, in a way I can't explain. It was if I wasn't accepted into the whole 'family atmosphere' of the castle. They stared at me and pointed, judged every little thing I did. I'm not even famous for a something I can be proud of… I don't remember the night I became an orphan and even if I did, it wouldn't exactly be a happy memory. I don't think I could learn to ignore all the judgement and finger pointing." Harry gave a rueful smile and Ginny patted his hand. "It's too personal and they are too unrelenting."

Silence sat by them on the doorstep and hugged them close causing Harry to give a small sigh. He shouldn't think about the magical world too much anymore and especially not the people that inhabited it. 'It could trigger something off again, something I wouldn't be able to control.' He sighed again. Ginny nibbled absentmindedly at her ham and cheese sandwich, taking in all that he had said. The wizarding world, in her opinion, was extremely insular and like an exclusive club. People drew within themselves but did so with who they knew – and everyone knew everyone. But if you fell outside that, if you were someone different you were not a part of the 'everyone' and people judged you for it. They singled you out and ridiculed you… that's just the way it went. It had never occurred to her that someone who was so important to many would experience that. He was Harry Potter for goodness sake!

"Would you like to play a game? It looks as if your parents aren't going to be here for a while." Harry finally asked, the silence had stretched on for too long and he had started to get uncomfortable.

"What kind of game?"

"A card game? I could teach you one?" Glancing up at him through her eyelashes, she nodded but continued to nibble slowly. Harry's leg started to bounce his leg on the step below and pulled the now empty plate onto his lap in a sharp motion. Harry tapped a fast beat with his fingers on the concrete below him, huffing as Ginny took nibble after nibble and appeared to be oblivious to his irritation. 'Could anyone eat any slower?'

"I'm going to take this into the kitchen and find the cards." Harry explained impatiently but just as he had started to rise, Ginny shoved the rest of the sandwich in her mouth, snatched the plate out of his hands and sashayed into the house, Harry two steps behind her.

"You were winding me up!" He exclaimed with a pout. An answering giggle came from the direction of kitchen as he headed into the living room to search for the activity box. The house was so orderly that sometimes it was impossible to find things and he tried to think where Aunt Petunia had hidden it.

Eventually he spied the box hidden beneath photo albums inside the pouf and he stalked into the hallway where he met Ginny wiping damp hands onto the skirt of her robes. She offered a sly smile to Harry, who ignored it, muttering underneath his breath and marched to the dining room with Ginny not far behind. She hid her mirth, glad that Harry was over their previous talk.

They chose a seats opposite one another and Harry rooted around inside the box for the cards.

"Have you ever played Rummy, Gin?" He asked, pulling out the set with a triumphant flair. She giggled and shook her head, "You'll have to teach me." With an indulgent smirk, Harry started shuffling confidently.

xXx

"I don't think I want to play anymore." Harry slouched in his seat and threw down his cards. The first round – in which Ginny beat him – he had explained away with beginners' luck. It was the fifth round that he gave up, realising that it was hopeless trying to go against a Weasley at a game.

"Oh? I was just getting the hang of it. Well if you're sure…" At this Ginny got up leaving Harry with his mouth hanging open.

'Just getting the hang of it?' Harry marvelled.

Ginny stopped in the doorway and Harry sat crouched, reflexively covering his ears, as a loud bang travelled through the house. What sounded like a car back-firing came from the living room. Aunt Petunia gave a yelp from above, but it was Ginny who calmed Harry down. She spun around grinning delightedly and breathed,

"They're here!"

Harry grinned back and awkwardly caught Ginny in a tight hug when she threw herself at him.

"Thanks for finding me and letting me stay Harry," She whispered. He reached up to gently untangle her arms from around his neck.

"It wasn't a problem Gin!" Ginny loathed to let go, almost loosing herself in his warm words and bright smile, but took a step back all the same. She had truly enjoyed her stay here, barring the incident with Harry's Uncle and his unimpressed guests. With one last glance at the boy who had saved her, she bounced right into the living room to greet her parents, all giggles and smiles.

Aunt Petunia came hurtling down the stairs, perturbed by the sudden noise. She flung herself into the lounge, curses on the tip of her tongue. She stopped, shocked, when she found it was only the two Weasley parents, coming to pick up their daughter.

"Couldn't you just have rung the doorbell?"

"MUM! DAD!"

"Thank Merlin, you're alright!"

"Hello Mr. and Mrs. Weasley." Harry concluded calmly, secretly loving the commotion. He loved even more that Mrs. Weasley wrapped him in a hug, thanking him for looking after Ginny. He tried to explain that he hadn't done anything special, but her parents weren't having any of that.

"What happened could have turned into quite a dangerous situation. My heart stopped when my boys told me that Ginny had disappeared, I was given such a fright. We weren't even sure where to start looking and of course notified the ministry straight away. I am so glad you were the one to find her Harry." Mr. Weasley smiled at him and mussed his hair. His daughter clung to his middle tightly and beamed at Harry happily.

'Does a normal family love like this? The Dursleys hardly ever show this kind of affection. It's always kind of false or done to prevent Dudley throwing a tantrum.' Harry watched on as Mr. Weasley put a hand on top of Ginny's head absently whilst talking with Aunt Petunia.

"I wish we had just rang the doorbell! We had some trouble getting through the wards that protect your property Mrs. Dursley. I expect that is what made such a loud noise when we finally got through, my apologies."

"Yes, well, that's quite all right I guess. Would you like to stay for some tea, or are you in a rush to get home?"

Mr. Weasley grinned boyishly, "I'm never one to turn down a cupper, that would be splendid thank you."

Before long Aunt Petunia, ever the excellent hostess, had them all settled and sitting on stools around the kitchen island nursing cups of tea. Harry was still pondering over the 'normal' issue. Had anything in his life ever been so? He took a sip of his tea. Perhaps he had, perhaps when he was a baby, when his parents were still alive. Maybe they had all been pretty normal, with chaos and petty arguments, and love. He smiled sadly at the thought of what he could never have.

Harry was brought back to reality when he realised he was being spoken to.

"- one thing that isn't quite clear though, dear, is how you knew where Ginny was. From what your Aunt has said, you weren't planning on going out were you?"

Harry looked directly at Mrs. Weasley and then looked at Ginny. It was something he had thought about too. He smiled shyly at Ginny and she blushed sweetly.

"Well, I didn't really know, to be honest. It was all your daughter's work, she was calling me." Ginny delicately traced the rim of her cup, avoiding eye contact with everyone. 'He knows,' she thought to herself, 'he looks like he knows! It's so embarrassing, I mean, I didn't really think that he'd come just because I wished he was there to save me.'

Mrs. Weasley looked at Harry, scrutinising him. She knew the child wasn't lying but that meant that there was some very powerful, serious magic at play. She pursed her lips in thought. Perhaps she would have to ask the Lovegood's if she could use their library, but she was going to do all that she could to figure out what exactly it was about the situation that warmed her chest and teased her lips with half a smile. Looking at her daughter and specifically at the way her daughter looked at Harry, she knew that this encounter had only solidified the crush that had manifested from The Boy-Who-Lived stories. But there was something more, not only in her daughter's recognition in Harry as a person but also in the way that Harry kept by her side, smiled at her fondly, followed his instincts and found her in a park.

Mrs. Weasley's smile blossomed with the direction her thoughts were taking her but kept quiet. This, however, was a dead giveaway to her husband as she near never kept quite so quiet and he nudged her gently. He looked at her with knowing eyes although all he got in response was an eyebrow raised in amusement.

"Mum, dad! I watched TV today!" Ginny stated proudly, breaking the silence that had slowly settled in the room.

"Oh really dear? And what did TV do?" Harry watched curiously as Aunt Petunia hid a smile behind her hand politely. For someone who had so staunchly refused to tell him about his parents and his heritage, Aunt Petunia was acting much nicer than he thought she would. She really was not making any sense to him.

"Oh Molly, really. TVs are like magical portraits with sound. I've told you about them before!"

Harry was grateful for his uncle and cousin's absence, Dudley was going to stay over at his friend's and Uncle Vernon was working late to make up for that lost deal, no doubt conversation would not have flowed half as smoothly as it was. The five of them sat there for quite some time, talking and marvelling at some of the differences between the magical and muggle worlds. But all too soon it was time for the Weasleys to depart, Mrs. Weasley had begun to think about dinner and Ginny wanted to make up with her brothers. Mr. Weasley, Harry felt, would have been happy to stay and talk some more with Aunt Petunia about 'eckeltricity', but Mrs. Weasley had a firm grip on his elbow and a much tighter hold on social graces. With one last goodbye, as one Ginny and her parents spun on their heel and with a loud pop, though not as loud as before, they were gone.

Aunt Petunia gingerly collected the used cups and saucers from the counter and began washing up. Harry still sat on his stool, his lugs tucked up behind the wooden panel and watched his Aunt's faint reflection on the gleaming marble floor. He really did not know what to say to his Aunt, there had been a shift in their relationship and it was confusing.

"You let me watch TV today." The statement held no echo of Ginny's excited exclamation earlier. It wasn't a question, Harry was still cautious about that and all the other old rules that had held steadfast over the years. But it was searching, and a much safer topic than magic. Aunt Petunia sighed and placed the last saucer on the drying wrack gently. After dabbing her wet hands on the blue towel that was always kept by the sink, she turned on the spot, leaning back on the counter and gripping its edge tightly.

"There is no harm in watching a little TV…" She began uncomfortably. Harry's eyes bore into her own, his gaze sharp and betrayed how incredulous he felt.

"We didn't let you watch television when you were younger – well, because we didn't want to give you any ideas! There are all sorts of programs that you could have watched that might have given you some idea of what you were, what you could do. And your Uncle and I were trying to discourage that kind of behaviour. We didn't know how we could control your power and we were afraid," At this, Harry's eyebrows shot up into his fringe, he opened his mouth to interrupt his Aunt but she ploughed on through with her explanation, "that if you did something, we wouldn't be able to undo it."

Harry grudgingly admit to himself that in a way the logic made sense. The Dursley's were not magical and if a magical accident were to occur, they hadn't any way to contact someone who could help. He thought about other muggleborns and wondered briefly how their parents had coped raising them and experiencing accidental magic. Harry's own accidental magic had only happened when he was particularly stressed or upset so maybe all that his Uncle and Aunt needed to do was keep him happy. But then, with the way his Aunt and Uncle dealt with keeping a child happy, they would have had two Dudley's, Harry thought to himself with a shudder.

"Are you sending me away because you are afraid of my magic?"

"We're not afraid of you, boy!" Aunt Petunia retorted sharply. So sharply, Harry realised, that he must have hit the nail on the head. "We don't like the idea of those that you might invite, the type of attention that you may attract. I noticed how other magical people were around you – they knew you! But that doesn't mean that they were good people. We don't want to come up on their radar just by association. And what I said yesterday, about keeping you safe – I mean that too. It's all just for the best Harry, you've got to realise that."

Harry untuck his legs from under the stool and stood swiftly.

"Yes Aunt Petunia."

Aunt Petunia watched her nephew retreat out into the garden with a growing sense of apprehension. She felt that she had made the right decision for her family but Harry's quick acquiescence had left a confusing bitter taste in her mouth. Nothing had ever been so simple when it had come to raising him, nothing that she had thought was the best was ever so readily accepted by Harry. He had fought her and his Uncle with all they had tried to establish with him, he was such a contrary child. But she had to believe that things would be fine, that everything would go back to as normal as they had ever been and that there would be no dire consequences to these turn of events. And that, Aunt Petunia thought as she turned to the cupboard that stored her cleaning supplies, was that.

xXx

The sun beamed strongly through Ginny's bedroom, adding a warm glow to the bedsheets she was currently sitting on. Her brothers had been holed up in their rooms when she had returned with her parents and had not even emerged for tea. Ginny gazed down at the ruined book she clutched in her hands, 'The Wondrous Adventures of the Boy-Who-Lived', and sighed agitatedly. Fred and George had scrawled various insults over the cover and throughout the book in permanent ink which she knew would never come out, even with the most advanced cleaning spells. The twins had called it a harmless prank but they knew how truly spiteful they had been; it had been her favourite book growing up. Her father had read it to her at bedtime for as long as she could remember. She stroked the spine gently, recognising that although the stories had been such a significant part of her growing up, they in no way depicted the boy she had met. Now the most hurtful thing about her brothers defacing her book was what they had written, Ginny realised as she scrubbed her palm over the cover. The words 'meddling cow', 'Potter fangirl' and 'stupid' glared up at her defiantly and repeatedly, completely covering up its delicate artwork. A knock sounded at her door before the doorknob tentatively turned.

"Gin, can we come in?" Fred's head peaked from around the heavy wood.

"Sure."

They shuffled in, still in their pyjamas, and settled in the places that they usually did in her room. Fred at the end of her bed and George on her window seat, looking out at the garden. Fred, as usual, was the first to talk.

"We're sorry for ruining your book and teasing you about Harry, Ginny." He looked at her imploringly and she gulped and resumed her study of the book, suddenly not feeling so blameless and embarrassed as before.

"And I'm sorry for borrowing your things without asking first, and for accidently breaking the potions vial… I shouldn't have been so nosy."

"That's ok, it wasn't that important anyway, was it Fred?" George commented softly, his left leg dangling elegantly from where he was perched. It was his blazing look, however, that he was shooting at Fred that set Ginny on edge. George nearly never got angry at Fred but whenever they fought someone usually got very hurt.

"No, it wasn't," Fred replied just as softly and then cleared his throat. "Otherwise I would have turned your pillow into a spider!" George stared piercingly at his brother, finding the joke neither funny nor appropriate. He shifted on his perch, both legs now dangled over the edge and smiled brightly at Ginny, choosing to ignore his twin.

"We won't have to owl you any souvenirs this year! Did mum say when we're going shopping for our Hogwarts stuff?"

Ginny relaxed back onto her headboard, no longer tense or worried. When in sync or riled up Fred and George made for a volatile pair, but George was the one who grounded them. He could reign in Fred like no-one else could, not even their mother.

"Yeah, we're going this evening as soon as mum finishes her sewing. Dad's taking the entire day off, so he's coming too."

"Great! With dad coming we might even get to eat at the Leaky Cauldron; I'm so hungry. We're going to wash up and get ready, see you downstairs okay?"

"Sure."

Fred followed George out of the room without having said another word or even spared a glance, effectively chastised. Ginny had been too young to remember the day that Fred had turned Ron's teddy into a spider but she had heard the story from every member of the family. And everyone was in agreement that it had been mean and nasty and definitely not accidental magic. She loved the twins terribly and often helped them orchestrate their pranks, but the one thing that she didn't love was Fred's mean streak and his apparent lack of remorse if his comment was anything to go by.

Ginny grinned to herself at the sound of the stairs creaking and the soft padding of her brothers' footsteps as they made their way back to their room. The house - old, worn and a quirky manifestation of all the different characters that lived there and had lived there for generations – was warm and its scent familiar. Ginny closed her eyes and breathed deeply, remembering the uniformity and the strong smell of bleach that Harry was used to, and felt a strong pang of love tweak at her heart. She wouldn't change anything about her home, not even for the world.

"Ginny, Ron, Percy! Get in here please!" Her mum called from downstairs, probably the kitchen. Ginny jumped up blithely and tossed her book carelessly onto the bed before peeling out of her room. Nimbly skipping the last three steps, Ginny made her way to the kitchen where she found her brothers standing around the floo with their cloaks on. Her mum bustled around the kitchen, putting various pots and pans in their rightful place, her shocking blue cloak draped clumsily over the back of a wooden chair.

"Ginny, put your cloak on please. We're leaving now."

"But mum, what about the twins? They are just getting ready."

"Fred and George are grounded." Her mum wiped her hands on her apron distractedly and started to undo its knots.

"Oh… They are going to be here by themselves?"

"Of course not! Who knows what trouble they would get into unsupervised. Your father is going to stay here with them. That reminds me though, accio school lists." Five pieces of parchment came zooming towards the four gathered by the fire. Her mum caught the letters but Ginny thought it quite careless. Speeding parchment was a sure way to get a paper cut. Molly grabbed her cloak from the chair and swung it round her shoulders deftly.

"Now I'm going to go first, Percy you follow after your brother and sister okay?" She said as she fastened the buttons on the collar.

"Yes mum."

"And everyone make sure to pronounce Diagon Alley correctly, please. It's already evening and we don't have much time to shop, let alone find missing people." Molly glanced at Ginny from the side of her eye before stepping quickly into the fireplace and calling out the destination with just a pinch of floo powder.

Ginny swallowed nervously and shifted on her feet as she watched her mum get whisked away with a swirl of green fire. She absolutely hated travelling by floo. It was much, much worse than Portkeys even. Percy pushed her gently on the small of her back, instructing her to go next, his voice stern and almost exasperated as if he'd much rather be doing something else.

Ginny faltered slightly in hesitation before taking her own pinch of floo and stepping into the fire too. Her voice quavered as she whispered, "Diagon Alley," and her eyes were squeezed shut in anticipation over what would come next. And sure enough a wave of nausea hit her as soon as her feet left the hearth of her kitchen fireplace. She felt as though she were being spun round and round, a mere plaything of an invisible child. But before she knew it, it was over and she was falling into the arms of her mother who waited for her on the other side. Pulling her away from the fireplace swiftly, Molly stroked Ginny's hair consolingly, this being one of those rare occasions where Ginny allowed herself to show weakness and accept comfort. Living with six boys had taught her very early on that if she wanted to be heard, sometimes she would have to shout and if she wanted to be respected, sometimes she had to fight. And because of this, she never showed weakness.

The nausea passed as quickly as it came and Ginny untangled herself from her mother's embrace just as Ron was spat out of the fire. He caught his footing easily and gazed around happily at the pub they were in, brushing soot from his clothes.

"Mum, do you think we could get some food? Tom does the best roast lamb, well not as nice as yours obviously."

"Sorry dear, I've already made dinner. It's under a stasis spell and will be ready to eat as soon as we get home. Stop crowding the fire please, its rude honey."

"Yes, sorry mum." And no sooner did Ron move out of the way, Percy arrived stepping out of the fireplace gracefully. The rest of the evening went by in a blur for Ginny. Most things that they bought were available at Joe's, the second hand store that sat just opposite Knockturn Alley, but it was huge. They sold all sorts of things, from robes to cauldrons and even pets! As they climbed to the third floor of the building in search of appropriate shoes for school Ginny allowed herself a smile at the dawning reality that going to Hogwarts was becoming to her. She had been waiting for this for as long as she could remember and it was finally happening!

"We're going to have to visit Flourish and Blotts for your schoolbooks this year. Gilderoy Lockhart is going to be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts and we're going to have to by those books new." Her mum sighed heavily and looked at the meagre contents of her purse. "Come quickly now, children. The store is closing in fifteen minutes."

It took them five minutes to reach the store but a further eight to actually get the attention of a clerk, the store was still that busy. Bodies milled around excitedly, people speaking loudly about the celebrity who had only just left the store. But in those eight minutes, Ginny noticed none of this and barely noticed that she had disappeared into the crowd of people. Her mum wouldn't be happy that she had separated herself from the family but there was a book sitting on top of one of the mahogany bookcases and it had caught her eye as soon as she had entered the store, despite the crowd. It was just sitting there, as if waiting to be opened and explored, but no-one else had seemed to notice it. As Ginny got closer she realised that it was much higher up than she had originally anticipated and thanked whatever had possessed her to think of controlling her magic without a wand. Because now, without even breaking a sweat, she was able to summon the book to her small grasp. Ginny raised her hands high above her head, as if reaching as far as she could towards the ceiling, and the book descended slowly towards her. When it finally brushed her finger tips, Ginny gave a small sigh of pleasure and hugged it tightly to her chest. Hesitantly she looked around to ensure that no-one was watching her and that her mum hadn't realised that she had gone off yet. Seeing that no-one was indeed watching her she held the book away from her body and studied it under the dim lighting of the store. Slightly larger than pocket sized and leather bound there was nothing quite remarkable about it accept for the embossed gold letters that gleamed up at her winningly. T. M. Riddle.

'Was Riddle the writer or the name of the main character', Ginny wondered as she opened it up, only to be surprised to find blank pages. It was a diary, and probably an unwanted gift seeing as no-one had written in it yet. Ginny had never kept a diary before, she hadn't wanted to risk one of her brothers finding it if they ever decided to snoop in her room. A diary was a very obvious, and very dangerous weakness. But she was going to Hogwarts now and would have her own dorm room that her brothers under no circumstances would be able to get in to (she still felt adamant about not being sorted in Gryffindor). Surely the year would give her enough time to find and practice privacy spells and maybe even concealment charms for the diary.

But as beautiful as the book was and how charming the idea of having a diary now seemed to her, her mum would never buy it for her. They were low on money and this wasn't even a special occasion. Again, Ginny looked around furtively. She had to have and she guessed that she could just steal it. No-one would notice if she hid it in the waist of her trousers under her robes. And maybe it wouldn't even be stealing, the diary was clearly previously owned and Flourish and Blotts never sold second hand goods. Making up her mind, Ginny stepped closer to the bookshelf, her back facing the rest of the shop. It had been a warm day, but she had worn trouser and a t-shirt under her robes, and in that moment she felt so grateful that she had. She bent forward slightly, allowing her cloak to conceal what her hands were doing, and she slowly raised the skirt of her robes. It was like it was fate or something, like her body had just known that she would need an extra layer of clothing to hide something that didn't belong to her. As she tucked the book into the waistband of her trousers, she shivered a little at the cool touch of the leather. But it was worth it, she thought to herself as she neatly readjusted her robes and wrapped her arms around her middle. It would be completely worth it, she thought as a small secretive smile crept across her face. She made her way back to the front of the shop, where the purchases were made and found her mother engaged in a friendly chat with the shop attendant, her brothers looking awfully bored. Ginny sidled right up next to her mum and leant into her side, at which Molly glanced down at her youngest child and smiled fondly.

"I best be going now Sarah, if you could have those shrunk for me. The children haven't had dinner yet after all. Thank you so much, take care now!" Sarah handed Molly the shrunken packages and bid her a good evening, but watched the little girl carefully from underneath her lashes. There was something about the way that the girl's lips were pressed into a slight smirk and the way her brown eyes glinted at her warmly from her pale face that set Sarah on edge. She was used to seeing all types of different people come in and out of the store, but those eyes looked a little too warm and the small arms wrapped around her middle a little too tightly. In matching blue cloaks, no one would mistake Molly and the child for anything other than mother and daughter, but Sarah could see a stark contrast between them. Even as Molly stoked the bright red hair and ushered the three children out of the store, Sarah's stomach twisted uncomfortably.

Ginny felt the sales assistant's eyes on her long after they had left the shop and even as they walked into the Leaky Cauldron. She felt them as strongly as she had done in the store, and wondered if the girl had known what she had done. Her body moved mechanically towards the fireplace, as though it wasn't her own anymore, and noted that the diary still felt cool on her abdomen even though it had been there for so long.

"Okay children, same formation please. And when we're home, it's dinner and straight to bed for all of you. Ginny I know you are disappointed that you weren't able to get your wand today, but I had no idea that Ollivander had put his prices up this summer. Don't feel too badly, we'll get you one very soon."

"It's okay mum, I promise." It hadn't been okay with her earlier, but with the book that was tucked away carefully under her robes, Ginny reckoned that it everything had turned out the way it was meant to. She wasn't able to get a new wand because the expensive books were not available at Joe's. Without the new syllabus, she wouldn't have been united without her special diary. It was fate.

The trip back home didn't leave her feeling as nearly as sick, Ginny's head was filled so much with excitement that she hardly noticed being tossed around in the fire network. Claiming fatigue, she skipped dinner and ran straight up the stairs to her room. Ginny scooped up a small ball from her bedside table which started to glow a soft green in her warm palms and placed it back down carefully before changing for bed. Locating an old quill and pot of ink she climbed underneath the bedcovers, quill and diary clasped tightly in her grip and settled back eagerly. Ginny traced the gold letters gingerly, her fingertip lingering for a moment on the name before opening the diary to the first page where she wrote, I won't write much today, it's not quite safe yet. She paused again, feeling a gleam of satisfaction at the prospect of revealing her innermost thoughts to something she knew couldn't judge her. The soft clink of cutlery on plates and muffled laughter drifted into her room but she hardly noticed it as neat script appeared in the page under her messy scrawl, That's okay. She definitely didn't hear the thud of The Wondrous Adventures of The Boy-Who-Lived when it hit the floor, as she drew her knees up to her chest. Her body wound up tense and her heart drummed in her ears, who was it that wrote back?

Ginny shoved the book under her pillow in a panic and threw the quill down on her bedside table. A splodge of ink seeped in to the scratched mahogany wood. Who was it that wrote back? Uncurling slowly, she scooted down further on her bed and lay in the darkness, the green light illuminating her back and reflected off of her hair eerily. It wasn't the excited thoughts of Hogwarts that followed her into her dreams that night, like it did for many other young witches and wizards. She dreamed of an older boy, handsomely dressed in his school robes, that stubbornly remained faceless. He told her though, he told her that he was Tom Riddle.