A Different Sort of World

July 2, 10:30 am

This feels very, very weird. You'd think I'd be afraid of having another diary, but I'm not. Not really. Well, ok, maybe I'm a little nervous. Just take deep breaths, Ginny, deep breaths.

Ok. Done with that. No help at all. Bill's coming by for dinner tonight. I'll ask him to check out the diary, make sure there's nothing wrong with it. (He's not coming for an Order meeting, we're at the Burrow for two weeks. Then back to hell Grimmauld Place.)

I really shouldn't be this nervous about writing in you. It was a birthday gift, for heavens sake. Aunt Melinda gave you to me over a year ago... Besides, it's either write in you or help Mum degnome the garden. For the fifth time this week, no less. (She thinks I'm doing homework. Right, Mum. Out of her seven kids, only Percy did homework this early in the holiday, and we all know how he turned out. Some of her children, on the other hand, refused to do homework and all. I'm sure you can guess who they were...)

July 4, noon

Well, Bill looked everything up for me, and nothing's wrong with the diary, thank Merlin. I don't really know what to write though. It's odd. You'd think I'd have ages of pent up experiences and anger to write about, but I don't. I feel sort of mellow.

I miss Harry.

Whoa! Backtrack, old girl. Cross out, cross out. Maybe I should ask Bill to put a locking charm on this thing if I'm going to be exploding in these bursts of... whatever that was a burst of. Because I do not like Harry. See, I can say that very calmly. I think I'll try to repeat it out loud.

Ron just walked into my room to say that we had to weed the garden and he caught me saying this. The conversation went a bit like this...

Me: "I do not like Harry, I do not like Harry, I do not-"

Ron: "Ginny! Mum wants us to work in the garden, especially the vegetable patch. She said the gnomes got at it."

Me: (not having realized Ron was in the room.) "...like Harry, I do not like Harry."

Ron: "WHAT? I thought you were friends!"

Me: (just now noticing Ron is in the room.) "Hmm? Oh, hi Ron. What is it you wanted?"

Ron: "WHY DON'T YOU LIKE HARRY!?"

Me: (realizing I've been caught) "Oh. That. Well, I am friends with him, I just don't have any romantic feelings. (Immediately I felt dumb for saying this, because I thought Ron wouldn't believe me. But then I realized--it's Ron! I have nothing to worry about!)

Ron: (just has a look of horror on his face.)

Me: "Yes, what's so bad with that?"

Ron: "N-nothing, Ginny. I'd forgotten that you and Dean Thomas are going out." (He says that last bit kind of angrily and leaves.)

Dean Thomas!? I took a five minute period to recover from my laughing epidemic. If I had tried to write during those five minutes, I would have had heart failure, and I'd have to be shipped off to St. Mungo's. Where did he get that idea?

Whoa, just had a flashback moment. On the train ride home, I said I'd "picked" Dean Thomas. As my boyfriend. Oh please! I just had another laughing fit. Ron is really hysterical sometimes. I feel a bit bad for him. He's got a bunch of strange older brothers who either try to make him eat sweets that turn him into a canary, convince him that the Cannons will never win a World Cup, or try to teach him a bunch of fancy secrecy Charms and hexes and stuff for the DA (note that these are way above N.E.W.T. level), and he's got a mad little sister. Poor, poor Ronniekins. So daft that he doesn't even know I "picked" Dean Thomas to annoy him. I'm trying very hard to resist another laughing fit.

July 5, 4:34 am

Why, you may wonder, am I up at four in the morning? Writing in my diary no less? Well, Ron was thrashing about in his sleep and fell out of bed. I have the room directly under him, so I heard the thump. Then I heard him yell, "NO MORE SPIDERS, HERMIONE! NO MORE!"

So I'm assuming he's having a nightmare. I have nightmares sometimes. Not about spiders. About Tom, and the diary. They aren't even real nightmares, just his face leering at me for hours on end. Or, it seems like hours. I read once that dreams really don't last very long, only for a few minutes.

I don't feel much like writing anymore.

July 6, 8:00 pm

Hermione's come today. I guess it's nice. But she's always arguing with Ron. They act like they hate each other. But any dunce with half a brain can see that she fancies him. (This means, basically, not Ron.) And anyone with a brain cell can see that Ron is head over heels for her. I mean, perfume? Hello. And he could have asked me for help at least. The stuff he gave Hermione was nasty. It smelled like Buckbeak's room at Grimmauld Place. Poor Buckbeak. And poor Sirius. I didn't really know him too well, but he was a whole lot of fun. I miss him quite a lot. I hate the damn war. Nothing's happened yet, but something will, right when we least expect it.

9:50 pm

Hermione and Ron have disappeared. Mum is going mad; she thinks that they've been abducted by Death Eaters. I saw them slip out the back door together, but when I tried to tell Mum, she just started sobbing. And she refuses to look at the clock. If she would just look, it says Ron is "in a world of bliss." And, no, I do not want to know what that means. But I do know it means he isn't with Death Eaters.

12:46 am

And, they're back! They both got severely told off, but Hermione less than Ron. They looked very guilty. They had red faces, and Hermione was all fidgety. I have never seen that girl fidget. I knew then that something was going on. When Hermione came up to my room, I tried to get a word out of her. And before I write what I said, just let it be said subtlety was never my strong point. So, as soon as she changed into her pajamas and dressing gown, I launched. She was about to read Hogwarts, A History for the millionth time, but sorry. It was no time for tact, or for caring that she was going to make further attempts to memorize the book. "Hermione," I started, "Do you fancy my brother?"

Basically, she looked guilty. She first turned pale, white as a ghost. Then she turned a reddish-purple color and started looking at the floor. She swallowed a few times and tried to answer. "Well, we're very close friends, and I do admire him quite a lot. We help each other out, and we've been thrown together without Harry in so many situations this past year. It was a bit odd being without Harry, but I got to know Ron so well!" Hermione stopped.

I seriously thought she was going to start panting. The girl must have an ENORMOUS lung capacity. "Er... is that a yes?"

Hermione turned that weird purple color again and whispered something. I didn't hear her, so I asked her to speak up. So she yelped, "YES! I fancy Ron, ok?!"

Then she threw herself into the spare bed and pulled the covers up past her face. "Alright, Hermione!" I called. "G'night then!"

And so my good deed of the day has been done. Now I just need to find out where they were. I'll wait until tomorrow. Oh, bloody hell, I'll just ask now.

Hermione threw a pillow at me. And she's threatening to get Hogwarts, A History and throw that as well. I think that translates to, "We were madly snogging and if you don't shut up, I really will throw things at you."

I feel so happy to help her realize her feelings for my brother. Tomorrow, I'll work on Ron. Oh, the evilness and the wickedness of a little sister!

I'm sure he subconsciously knows he fancies old 'Mione. If they were snogging. But maybe they were just innocently de-gnoming the Lovegood's house. Yeah, right.

I just need to make Ron realize consciously how much he loves Hermione. And I, Ginny M. Weasley, swear to make Ronald B. Weasley know his true love!

12:50 am

I'm afraid to talk for fear of Hermione throwing the book at me. I don't think she's got the greatest arm, but a fly could hurt someone with that book. I'm guessing I'm safe though. She's sound asleep.

July 7, 4:20 pm

There was an attack today.

I can't write.

July 8, 7:04 am

About yesterday. Death Eaters attacked a family in London with a Muggle-born wizard who's working in the Ministry. The family wasn't killed; they just needed to be sent to St. Mungo's. Luckily, they know about the wizarding world. Unluckily, they're in a state only a little better than Neville's parents. Yesterday, we didn't know much about the attack, so I felt sick about it. I feel better now though. Still worried, of course, but I'm not going to let myself dwell on it. I've learned that's best. Don't dwell on the bad. It gets you nowhere.

9:45 am

I put my plan into action at breakfast today. (I'm sure that it seems as if I'm mad, always ignoring the bad things that have happened, but it just hurts worse if I focus on it. Making these wild schemes help.) I made sure I was down there early, helping Mum cook. She's taken to making things the Muggle way, and she's usually good at it. But sometimes she forgets she can't just let it sit, that it won't stop cooking by itself, and whatever she's making burns.

When Mum and I were almost done cooking, Ron came downstairs in a scarily drunken-like state. That boy is frightening in the mornings. He stumbled into a chair (but not without knocking it over first), and tried to pour some milk into his plate. (I do think he was aiming for his cup, but who knows?) I sat down next to him and slipped one of Fred and George's newest treats into his eggs. It was something to make him more alert. He didn't notice me putting it there, lucky. In a few minutes, he became Mr. Bright and Awake and realized something's wrong with his breakfast setup. I believe his exact words were, "Bloody hell, why's the milk on a plate? And why's that bit of egg green?"

Uh-oh. I had to do some quick thinking for this one. If he realized the eggs were green because of what I'd put in the food, I'd be done for. "Oh, that was a spell Mum used to make the eggs seasoned," I said casually. "Don't worry about it." You know, sometimes I feel sincerely bad for being such a liar. Luckily, Ron didn't notice anything. So as soon as Mum left the kitchen for whatever reason, I launched. "Ron, do you fancy Hermione?"

He had almost the exact same reaction as Hermione! He turned bright red and his ears looked like they would burst into flames. But yes. I was ecstatic that phase one was working. I think this is a sign that, yes, Ron Weasley fancies Hermione Granger. And vice versa! This is sure to be one interesting summer. I bet help them along. For Merlin's sake, do I have to do everything around here?

1:37 pm

I just had a very interesting conversation with Ron. He was sitting in his room, reading The Chudley Cannons: From League Heroes to Legendary Laughingstocks. When I walked in his room, he just glared at me. I've been getting a lot of those recently. Once again, I will remind you, diary, that subtlety is not my strong point. So, I sat down next to Ron and took the book from him. He doesn't have a strong grip in his left hand, so I just twisted his little finger around. It's a Muggle fighting technique the twins taught me. It doesn't hurt too much, but enough so that the person will let go. Then Ron grunted at me, and I said, "Did you know, that right now, someone in this very house really loves you?"

Ron just stared. It was like I could read his mind, and he was thinking, Yeah, Mum. Because it's certainly not you. So he said, "Sure. Go away, Gin."

"No, really," I said. "Someone... not in the family." I doubted he was even listening now, but hey. It was worth a short, I guess.

"What?" Ron squeaked, sitting up straight. The book thudded to the ground. "What did you say?

"Someone loves you," I said slyly. "But you apparently don't want to know who, so I think I'll be going now." I made for the door, but Ron ran ahead and cut me off.

"Ginny... you tell me right now," he growled. I was seriously afraid he'd attack or something.

"Hermione does. Your very close friends, you know. She loves you like family," I said. Then the thought occurred to me that this was probably a bad choice of words.

Ron looked seriously disappointed. "Thanks, Ginny. You really know how to make a guy feel happy," he grumbled. He was making his way back to his book when I tried again.

"No... well, ok, she doesn't just think of you as her best friend, but she also fancies you. A lot, from what I can gather," I said quietly. Ew, I thought, you're making this into a way too sentimental moment. So I slipped out the door, glad to leave Ron to stew in his thoughts for a while.

7:14 pm

I should have known things were too good to be true. Just when I thought the day was going nicely, things turn bad. The treat of the twins' that I slipped into Ron's food this morning reacted. Thank Merlin though, he didn't tell Mum. I always knew the boy was loyal if nothing else. (Not that he's only loyal. He's really brave and pretty funny when he wants to be. Despite Ron's many flaws, I still love him--he always was my favorite brother).

Well, Ron was covered in boils. He blamed it on some mold he was trying to scrub off the attic walls (which he said the ghoul was responsible for). As bad as I feel for him, I'm rather glad that was his excuse - maybe Mum and Dad will consider getting rid of the ghoul once and for all!

July 10, 3:21 pm

Hermione and I went down to a Muggle shop today. It was amazing! The money is paper! There are coins too, but they're round! Unbelievable. Well, Hermione bought me this Muggle drink called a soba or something. It's fizzy and sweet and it's great! It's like butterbeer but more bubbly, and it tastes different. It's a fruity taste, not a warm and creamy taste like butterbeer.

Well, when we on our way home, she attacked me with an interrogation. It kind of ruined the astonishment factor due to the Muggle money and drink. Looking back on it, I think the outing was to soften me up for the interrogation.

"Ginny," she said, "What on earth are you trying to do with me and Ron?"

Hermione sure isn't stupid. She isn't just book smart, she's also really perceptive. I should have known this would be harder than I thought. (At least Ron won't realize what I'm doing too quickly. Or ever, for that matter).

I clammed up after that. I just wouldn't talk. Hermione didn't give up though. She's been shooting looks at me all night.

On the bright side, her and Ron played chess for three hours straight in his room. Am I just daft, or is that an unusually long chess game?

July 11, 1:00 pm

Oh, my gosh! Harry's here! He looked kind of sad when he came in. Poor Harry. Needs a hug, I'd say. Oh my! I feel a surge of the Gryffindor bravery coming on. Harry is upstairs with Ron, unpacking. I cannot go up. Stay here, Ginny, you must stay here!

1:45 pm

I feel the weirdest I've ever felt in my life. (Well, except maybe in first year, but let's not get into that, hmm?) When I was upstairs, I stood by Ron's door for a few minutes because I was too afraid to go in. They were both muttering about something. I caught the word "chess. Remind you of anything? I thought so. Finally I knocked. Ron answered and turned purple-red. Harry threw something under his pillow and turned pink.

"Er," I said, "I just wanted to tell Harry it's nice to see him again." Then I walked across the room and just hugged him. Just like that. He turned pinker afterwards and mumbled something that sounded like he had a sock in his mouth. So I turned around and walked out, Ron still gaping.

Poor Ron can be so oblivious to the oh-so-obvious. I do feel a bit bad for him. No wonder it's taken him so long to get his act together with Hermione. I feel pretty bad for her too.

July 12, 12:05 am

I've been up for the past three hours trying to analyze myself. Hermione bought me this Muggle magazine for teen girls, and I've been reading it like mad. There's this quiz, "Still in Love?"

I took it. Maybe taking the quiz was a bad idea. According to the quiz, I still... I still like Harry Potter. Not just like. I love Harry.

1:07 am

Being in love doesn't feel much different than out of it. But maybe I just haven't been in love long enough.

1:08 am

On second thought, I can't shut my eyes for more than ten seconds without feeling the urge to jump up and hug something. And I keep getting these very pleasing brain images of Harry. They're impossible to shut off. I guess I'll just close my eyes and let them come.