All That Is Desired

All That Is Desired.

The diary was a battered thing of age and secrets and history long forgotten. The parchment was yellowed, the leather shabby and scored in places. It had taken Ginny a while to work out exactly what the diary held, and then when she finally did she was shocked at first. And then the diary - Tom - asked her a question.

//What do you want?//

She told every secret, every desire, every thought she possessed, pouring her life into it; not knowing that in doing so she gave it up.

Ginny had been acting very strangely of late, and Percy felt a twinge of brotherly fortitude and concern over her well being. During dinner, when the rest of the house was out (but he as Prefect could be excused) he rummaged through her desk, pushing away the faint sense of wrongdoing in the back of his mind. After all, this was for her own good. He found a diary, when as far as he knew Ginny had never kept one. Hefting it in his hand he took it back to his own dorm - Oliver was eating of course, and then would be stuck over at the Pitch for the next few hours, as he always was.

Percy leafed through the diary and found nothing. No writing, no scrap of information. Whatever use Ginny had for it initially, it clearly never satisfied her purpose. Shrugging to him, Percy settled easily down at his desk, and picked up a quill, a fancy having taken hold of him. Maybe the pages were charmed so the writing would be invisible. Maybe. Percy himself had never had a diary; he'd never trusted his own ability to confide, or the possibility of having his confidences revealed. After all, this was Hogwarts; if you told anyone a secret, even a book, it usually didn't stay secret. But if worst came to worst, Percy could remove the words with a series of cleaning charms and no harm would be done. He dipped the quill in his inkwell and began to write.

A day in the life of Percy Ignatius Weasley.

It was, I suppose, a rather lacklustre day. I was woken far too early in the morning by Oliver, as usual, who insisted on being up earlier even than the rest of his team so as to get himself warmed up for subsequent training. I'm not entirely sure how he manages it; seeing as he roughly goes to bed at the same time as me - which is to say rather late - although at least I spent my time doing something constructive rather than running drills over the Pitch and nearly breaking my neck in the process. Of course, he'll probably sleep through History of Magic now although considering that half the class does I wouldn't be able to discern his snores amongst the drone.

He'd filled up half a page with emotional rambling before he'd even realised the ink was slowly but surely sinking into the page. Leaning back in his chair, Percy watched as the last words vanished from the parchment - and a few moments later, resolved into something new.

//What do you want, Percy?//

Percy jumped back, the chair falling over, and he toppled to the floor with a crash. Getting up and righting the chair, he saw that another line of text had appeared below the first.

//Do you want Oliver, Percy? I can help you get him.//

With a yell, Percy flung the book shut and ran down the passageway to the girls dormitory, managing to return it to Ginny's desk, determined never to tell her of that night. He had his own secrets to keep, and some favours came with too high a price.