The Diary

            Harry sucked on the tip of his quill and stared at the book lying open in front of him. It was a diary.  A Christmas present from Ginny Weasley. That alone had made him reluctant to open it. He had eventually and his suspicions had been justified. Right on the very first page was his name. Right before his mortified eyes, his name transformed into a heart and started ballet dancing around the page. This sent Ron, who had been peering over his shoulder, into a fit of laughter. As he was too nice to throw it away and too embarrassed to use it, he'd buried it in the bottom of his trunk.

            But it was high summer now and he'd dug it out again. Mostly from lack of anything else to do. There was another reason too. He had the burning need to say something without saying anything. A secret he could only tell the pages of a book.  Harry dipped the quill in the inkpot, carefully brushed off the excess into the pot and started writing.

July 18

Dear Diary:

            Harry paused, quill poised in the air. A little warning bell went off in his mind. This wasn't just any old diary… It was enchanted…at least in one part. The rest of it might have a spell too.


          After a few minutes and no response, Harry felt relatively safer. To do a double-check he tested it with the Sneak-o-Scope. The wizard's device didn't even flicker. Perfect.

            I have to say something. It's slowly driving me crazy. I think… no … I KNOW I've fallen in love!  I didn't even see it coming. I've always thought that when I fell in love, it would be someone from the wizarding world. Someone like Hermione…or maybe even Draco.

            Harry hastily scratched out that last name. Ack! Where had that come from?! It was just a typo…or maybe this diary really was enchanted in more ways then one. Well he'd just have to watch himself.

            She's not a wizard though. But she's not a muggle either. I can't explain it except to say that she's perfect. I probably will never get to meet her but I know she's the right one for me. How can I describe her? Ahh… It's so hard.


            First of all she has long legs. Long sexy legs that seem to go all the way up to her neck. Long, luxurious blond hair. I can just picture running my fingers through it. She has a thin waist and the biggest

            Harry tried to write it, but his internal sensors stopped him. Any variant of the word was taboo. Something that bordered closely on the…well…pornographic. A blush heatened his cheeks as the word bought interesting images to his mind. Forcefully shoving these distracting, if enticing, images to the side, he continued to write.

            Well, let's just say she's very well rounded.  She's a little bit of a bubble head and whines from time to time… But I can't help but love her. If only I could see her everyday. The Durselys of course wouldn't let me.

            He underlined Durselys a few times. They made him so mad sometimes. He didn't even know how his mother could have come from a family like that.

            Someday though everything's going to change. Someday I'm going to get to see her whenever I want. I can't wait. Even if I could never have her…just watching her now and then will be good enough.

            A door opened downstairs. Harry stopped writing and his heart picked up its tempo. Uncle Vernon said he was going to be taking Dudley out today. Was he going now? Harry looked at the clock. He hoped so. He so hoped so. It was around the time of Aunt Petunia's little Bridge Club. She would be distracted so as long as he kept extra quiet he'd be fine. Then he could sneak into Dudley's room and see her again. Harry crossed his fingers and prayed to whatever deity might be listening.

            Someone must have been smiling, for not a moment later he heard a car pull out of the drive. Harry closed the diary and shoved it under his bed. Then he took of his shoes and carefully sockfooted it to Dudley's room. As usual, the place looked like it had been hit by a ten-ton wrecking ball. Then again, Harry thought with a wry grin, it had. He went over to Dudley's pride and joy. A forty-two inch plasma TV equipped with DVD player and a stereo system that could shatter windows. Harry turned on the TV and slammed his finger on the mute button. Heh. Not even a squawk. He was getting good at this. The first time he'd done this the noise nearly scared his pants off and bought down the wrath of his guardians.

            It was 4:10. Harry quickly flipped through the channels. When he got there, it had all ready started. It was an episode he hadn't watched before. Harry sat back, so glad that Dudley's TV came with closed captioning.

            "Mooon Tiaraaa Magiiic!" his love yelled, tossing her glowing tiara at the beastie of the week. Harry sighed. Sailor Moon was such a babe.



Notes: Teh heh heh

Disclaimer: I do knut own Harry Potter. If I did it wouldn't be called Harry Potter but James Potter. And it would have Sirius and someone who looks a lot like me doing the nasty in one of the secret tunnels. Teh heh heh.

Kirigo: Oh? Will you be doing it doggy style?

You… Are… So… DEAD!

'scuse me, must murder original character.

Ja ne!