A Moment’s Worth of Peace
Soon dinner rolled around and Harry was still seated on his bed. He hasn’t got up from it since he opened up the diary. The blank pages intrigued him in a way, but what was he supposed to do with this diary? It looks old, rusty, and like it belonged to someone else. Is this not a whole invasion of privacy? Simply by owning the diary at that?
“Fuck it,” He grabbed a quill and an ink bottle from his bedside, dipping the tip of the quill into the black ink. He was about to write, all until a certain ginger interrupted him.
“Mate, we’re going down to the Great Hall for dinner. You joining us or what?” Ron asked, motioning to the door.
“No, you go on. I’m not that hungry anyway.” The brunette half-lied. In reality, he was more eager to write in this diary than to eat.
“Suit yourself. Come down whenever you feel like it.” He offered the shorter male a small smile and went on his way.
Once every one of his dormmates left, Harry pressed the newly, ink-dunked quill onto the discolored page.
Dear diary—ugh, that sounds so basic. Anyway, today is my first day of sixth year. If you can even consider it the ‘first day’. Luckily today we don’t have classes but we did get our schedule. I hav
The brunette stopped writing when he noticed something peculiar. Another set of sentences (written way nicer than his) appeared below his.
The summer before sixth year has been dre
What the hell, who are you?
Emerald green eyes quickly darted around the room. His invisibility cloak was still in his trunk, everyone had left and the window wasn’t open. “If this is a ghost, you’re not funny.” Harry pursed his lips and continued writing about his day as if it was actually a ghost messing with him.
I have a free period with Ron, which I’m extremely grateful for.
Get out of my diary! Is this some sort of sick joke? Did Barty put you up to this?
Barty? Okay, now things were getting weird. Part of Harry prayed that the Barty this.. Thing.. Was referring to wasn’t the Barty Crouch Jr.
I have no idea who Barty is but I can promise you it’s not a sick joke. You’re in my diary, I was gifted this.
Nonsense, there is no way you could have been ‘gifted this’ diary since I am currently writing in it.
Harry wrote out the one major question he had on his mind at the moment.
Are you a ghost?
A ghost? What do you take me for—are you one? Are you trying to contact the afterlife?
No! No, I’m not a ghost. I’m a student, I go to Hogwarts.
It took a few seconds to get back an answer.
Although I am not very trusting of who I am writing to at the moment, I will tell you that I too attend Hogwarts as a student.
Did you skip dinner too?
Yes. I was going to stay in and write about my feelings instead, but it seems like I can not get a moment’s worth of peace.
He suddenly felt bad for this unknown student.
If it makes you feel any better, I was only writing in this diary because it was given to me blank. If it already had words on it, I wouldn’t have
Intruded like you are doing now? Quite the modest, humble person you are.
Harry scowled. Desperately, oh so desperately wishing that this person could hear it.
Listen, it’s not my fault I messed up your precious ‘alone time’. I didn’t think a complete stranger would be writing me back.
Neither did I.
He didn’t write back for a bit, unsure what to do and say. Since the page was getting crowded with words, he flipped to the next blank page. He contemplated on whether or not to continue writing, but the mystery person gave him his answer.
I will admit that this interaction did not completely ‘mess it up’. I suppose, in an odd way, it is nice to know that
The person behind the neat handwriting paused. Harry wondered why and waited for a minute. The sentence was never finished--maybe the person didn’t know what to say.
That you’re connected with someone somehow through a diary?
There we go.
Magic really does work its wonders sometime, huh?
Harry chuckled to himself after writing that.
It does, yes.
This next choice he makes would mean life or dth for him. Maybe not literally, but he was putting himself at risk, no matter how small. But that’s just what his life is, isn’t it? Full of adventure, risk.
Sometimes people say that it’s better being alone with someone than being alone by yourself. Why don’t we meet by the alcove on the fifth floor?
He added on since this person seemed very skeptical of him to begin with.
I promise I’m alone, I won’t even bring my wand.
Dumb decision.
Harry didn’t know whether to laugh or be offended.
Does that at least give you closure that I’m not some maniac?
Nothing to do with maniacs frighten me anymore, but sure. I will take your word for it and meet you by the alcove on the fifth floor.
Leave now, can you do that?
Yes.
I’ll be there in a few.
Harry set the quill down, anxiety and excitement simultaneously coursing through him. He couldn’t believe that he was doing this—and, okay, maybe a small part of him was nervous. What if this was another diary trick like the one in second year? With Voldemort? He wasn’t naive, but he had a feeling this wasn’t one of those schemes. He didn’t feel like switching out of his uniform, so the brunette simply placed the diary on his bed and walked down the steps to the fifth floor of the castle.