Part II
Hermione left the Halloween feast early. As far as Harry and Ron were concerned, she wasn't feeling well, and the two went to Nearly Headless Nick's party without her.
When she returned to Gryffindor Tower, the common room was blissfully empty. Still, she went up to her dorm instead of enjoying the open space and took the odd journal from her trunk. Once the curtains of her four-poster were drawn shut, just in case her roommates came back from the feast sooner than expected, she got out a quill and her favorite sapphire ink.
She flipped the journal open to the first page, inked her quill, and neatly penned the date.
31 October 2012
The ink vanished into the page before it dried and Hermione pressed her lips together as a chill rippled across her shoulders.
As she stared at the once again blank page, glaring at it as if willing it to reveal its secrets to her, dark emerald ink appeared where she'd written the date.
31 October 1962
Her frown deepened, but more green words appeared before she could think of something else to write on the page.
Tell me who you are, what you've charmed my journal with, and why, and I'll consider deducting a much smaller sum of housepoints than I'm currently of the mind to.
Hermione felt her brows draw together and hesitated before dipping her quill back into her blue ink. Several weeks ago, one of my classmates bumped into me and stuck this old journal into my things. I'm just as confused as your are.
Your name? Green Ink wrote. And am I truly meant to believe that?
She glared at the page. I'm not giving personal information to a source I cannot see or judge for myself. Especially not when they're being rude.
The next reply was written faster. Angrier. I'm. A. Prefect. Tell me who you are before I bring this to the attention of my head of house. Or perhaps I'll just go straight to Headmaster Dippet.
A sense of dread settled into Hermione's skin and she rubbed at her arms while she pondered her response, as if the action would make the uncomfortable sensation go away. This person had written the date after she did, only they'd written the wrong year.
Dippet hasn't been Headmaster for thirty-five years, she penned slowly.
The longer you play this foolish little game with me, the more housepoints I'll take when I find you.
She tried to wrack her brain for something, anything, that would prove her point. If, somehow, the journal she held was truly connected to its previous owner in the past, she needed a way to prove to this person that she wasn't a prankster.
If it's truly 1962 for you, which I highly doubt, then I can prove it's 2012 for me.
You must think you're awfully clever, don't you? Clearly you don't know who you're dealing with, but fine. I'll bite. Do enlighten me as to how you're going to convince me you're from the future.
"Oh, you awful, insufferable…" Hermione muttered under her breath. Of course she gets a magic diary from Malfoy and its connected to some prat in the past. If not him pretending to be some prat from the past.
Still, she wrote the little bit of trivia she'd heard in the common room earlier that week when Ron and Harry had lapsed into another Quidditch debate instead of doing their homework. Eunice Murray will die during the first Quidditch game for the Montrose Magpies in November.
It took a few moments for Green Ink to respond. That game is next week.
Then you'll know I'm not lying, she wrote, a triumphant smirk pulling at her lips.
I still expect you to tell me who you are.
Hermione rolled her eyes. I'm not going to give you my real name.
Give me something to call you then, person who is apparently from the future.
With a sigh, she chose the first alias that came to mind, Nyx.
The goddess of night? How romantic. Ares.
You could have at least picked something not Greek, she wrote, annoyed.
I'm not willing to put anymore effort into...whatever this is than necessary. The odds that you'll actually prove to be worth my time are slim at best. What house are you in?
She frowned at his abrupt change in subject. Gryffindor.
You don't sound like a Gryffindor.
"Oh for the love of…" Could everyone tell she'd begged the hat not to stick her where it initially wanted to? I wasn't comfortable with where the hat wanted to put me. It took my suggestion to be sorted elsewhere.
Ravenclaw?
Yes. The lie was familiar.
Well, Miss Nyx of Should-Be-Ravenclaw, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, as much as one can do so through a book, of course.
She didn't know what to make of the sudden shift in tone, nor the unexpected appearance of manners. It's been something, she wrote, but I don't know if I would call this a pleasure.
Give it time, Dove, who knows what we might learn.
Dove? She raised a brow at the moniker. A white bird —a nod to Ravenclaw, surely— representing light and purity instead of darkness like the pen name she'd chosen? She wondered if the ironic new nickname was just a coincidence or something Ares had come up with on the fly.
If the first, she found it funny. If the second, she found herself admiring his quick wit, even if he seemed to have a nasty temper.
They hardly communicated with one another at first, but if Ares wrote to her, the journal would hum with a silent sort of magic only Hermione was acutely aware of. She wasn't sure how it worked on his side, but she knew that the hum faded once she saw his message.
For the first time since Halloween, she decided to write him first.
Are you going home for the holiday?
What holiday?
Christmas, of course.
It's November – the twenty-third to be exact. Why are you worrying about Christmas when we haven't even taken end of term exams?
It became clear rather quickly that the passage of time was not consistent between them. Ares, who was taking Arithmancy and rather skilled at it, realized that time ratio between them appeared to be two to one. For every day that passed for him, two days passed for her.
It's unfortunate, really. We write one another rather steadily throughout the day for me, but you're often waiting for my replies, aren't you? he mused.
Sometimes. I don't mind. She's countered. And it doesn't seem that bad. There are times where we write back and forth steadily without a problem. Besides, it gives me time to study.
Salazar forbid you don't have time to get through the last half of the fourth year curriculum before the hols.
He was a prat even when he didn't think someone was pranking him through his diary, she learned. Though most of the time it seemed like he only made the effort to be awful because her reactions amused him. Still, he was more rational than Harry or Ron, which gave her a pleasant reprieve from their constant tomfoolery.
She loved the boys, but Ares was special. Different.
Are you going home then? For Christmas? he asked her.
Not this year. My parents are taking a trip to France. I wanted to stay with my friends.
Perfect. I have an idea. We might be able to see each other, but it's complicated magic - far above that of a second year.
She clenched her teeth, offended, which was probably his goal. When do we start?
A/N: This author's note (most of these early ones really) will be deleted once the rewrite has caught up with where The Diary was before I started rewriting the whole thing. But there's some info you guys probably want concerning updates and such.
Today (Tuesday May 29th, 2018 - Spring Tomione Day) marks the start of the rewrite repost. You may have noticed that the chapter count has lessened considerably. If you're a new Diary fan and you didn't get fully caught up on the old version of Diary before today - Don't worry! I made an "archive" over on AO3 (same username) for anyone who wants to finish reading the original version. Once the new stuff is all posted, I will wait about a month, then delete that archive fic. But it's there so people can finish their first read throughs or reread throughs. There's a link on my profile.
Everyone else - I will be updating Diary 1-2 times a week until the fic is caught up again. I know I said I would post it all at once, but the deeper I got into the rewrite, the more chapters condensed, combined into one another, or in a few cases, where they were essentially scrapped from the plot entirely. (RIP Part 27 of The Diary (Original Version)). Diary is now a modest 30-some-odd chapters, but the word count has nearly doubled comparatively. Some scenes were deleted. A TON were added. I'm super excited to get posting again, but since the rewrite isn't 100% finished, I'm still working on rewriting those last 20 or so original chapters, I don't want to post everything and then have a ton of pressure to write as fast as possible. I want to take time with my "Beta" (she prefers Editor in Chief and, frankly, she's earned that title a thousand times over) that way these chapters and any other's I've already completed can be gone over a few more times before I post them.
And, you know, maybe I'll get some extra chapters written PAST where we stopped so I can be a few chapters ahead and go back to updating weekly. Maybe. Work may not allow that, but I'll try. :3 I've missed making forward progress in Diary.
But yeah so, TL:DR — 1-2 Updates a week on Tuesdays and Thursdays or Fridays. This week you get 3, because I needed to post Part II today in order for email update notifications to go out.
Tumblr is a great place to reach me with questions. The #The Diary Revision Project tag has notes comments pertaining to the rewrite process if anyone is curious about that.
;) See you in a few days...