Harry Potter's POV:
It's the middle of the summer and I'm at the Weasley's home. Some things never change. At the moment, Ginny is sprawled across my lap, staring at me adoringly, her crystal earrings (from
me, of course) shimmering brightly from the sun and dappling the cieling of her room with light patterns. I smile dreamily down at her. The love in her eyes intensifies. It makes my heart glow and
my mind whirl to know that she will always be there, holding me up so I don't fall, comforting me and making me stay alive when I want to die. I'll be there too, behind her, at her shoulder,
doing the same. I love Ginny Weasly.
Crap. Mrs. Weasly just called up the stairs to me, saying I got a letter, along with a package. I don't want to leave Ginny, but I'm curious about the sender of
the letter and package. Who could it be? Heaving a sigh, I gently kiss Ginny's forehead before we both get up and head in different directions. I tromp down the rickety,
old stairs to the Weasly's small, comforting kitchen. Mrs. Weasly is in the kitchen, making lunch. A head of lettuce flies close to me head and I lean to the
side quickly. Noticing me, Mrs. Weasly points to a package with a letter on top of it on the worn wood table and says in her warm, motherly way, "Harry dear, lunch
will be ready in fifteen minutes. You can tell us about your mail then." She smiled kindly then turned back to the stove.
With the package in my hands, I walked into the living room. No one was in here, so I'd have peace and I'd be able to concentrate better on the letter. I had a feeling that it had come
bearing serious news. To my surprise, when I looked at the address on the letter, it read that it was from Hogwarts, my old school. My old school where so many things happened...Ginny and I fell in
love, Voldemort tried defeating me seven times and I won in the end, the war (also know as the dark age), Dumbledore, so many memories rushed back to me. Thinking of Dumbledore, the head
master of Hogwarts six of the years I was there, made my heart give a painful squeeze. He and I had been close. It had been three years since his death, and two years since the war
ended, but grief still haunted me at night at times.
Shaking myself, I cleared my mind of those sad thoughts and focused on opening the letter. The letter was from Professer (or should I say, headmistress) McGonnagel.
It read in her precise handwriting:
It's been too long since we last saw each other. I should arrange to visit the Weasly's sometime soon. How are you? And the Weasly's? I myself am fine.
Being the headmistress of a school is a lot of work, but Albus has been mighty helpful, giving me tips and helping me sort through problems. Hagrid
told me to include a greeting from him in here. Albus sends you a warm hello as well.
But enough mindless chatter. There is some news I have to tell you, much to my regret. We have to talk in person. I've sent you directions to get to the school, on an
alternate route. Platform 9 & 3/4 has been closed for the summer. A carriage will meet you at the front gates of the school. Anyway, that is all for now. I look forward to
seeing you again soon. Sincerely,
P.S. Pack some clothes to take to Hogwarts. You might be staying for a week or two. Bring your broom as well.
The letter was short and made me smile, but it didn't answer any of my questions. What was the regretful news that was so important and secret, I had to go to Hogwarts? I'd
find out soon enough.
Now I turned my attention to the package in my lap. It felt hard and heavy, like a book. Carefully, I tore open the paper and wasn't surprised to see that it was,
in fact, a book. Or....a journel. Confused, I flipped open to the first page. Someone had written a note there. It said:
This is a late birthday gift to you. Record your life in here. I hope you use it well.
Much love to you,
Strange, very strange. I vaguely recognized the writing....but who would write something like that?
Much love to you, anonymous....
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