Chapter 1 : The Journal
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“Damn,” muttered a tall, jet black haired young man as he tripped over a broom resting on the wall of the hallway. His best friend behind him sniggered, clearly amused at his friends clumsiness. The bushy haired young woman beside him shushed them quickly, looking up pointedly before muttering, “Muffliato!” with a wave of her wand.
“There,” she said, speaking barely above a whisper, “Do you think she’d still hear us?”
“Well better not take any chances,” muttered the pretty red-head besides Harry. “Let’s just keep it quiet for a few more minutes.”
“I agree,” muttered Harry, looking bitterly at the ceiling where the portrait of Walburga Black hanged at the top of the stairs. “I don’t feel up to listening to the old hag screaming at us just yet. I wonder if we can burn down the damn portrait and save us the misery.”
“Doubt it,” said Ron grinning. “I bet Sirius would have already tried that. I’d love to have a go though.”
“Let’s try that later then shall we? If we want to live here for a while until we get a better flat then I suggest we make this house a little bit more habitable,” said Hermione, examining the mossy webbed walls and dusty curtains.
“Where should we start?” called Ginny, who had already walked into the kitchen where she was setting down some grocery bags Mrs. Weasley had packed for them. Harry, Ron and Hermione followed behind, also setting down a few of their belongings.
“Well for starters,” said Hermione pulling out her wand, “Let’s clean the kitchen.” She walked along the kitchen pointing randomly in every direction saying, “Scourgify! Scourgify!”
“There,” she said, looking deeply satisfied with her work. Ginny started placing the groceries into the cooler as Hermione finished off cleaning a few missed details.
“Honestly,” muttered Hermione, looking annoyed at a few stains on the curtains before sighing, “Well that’ll have to do.”
“Have you tried Scourgify Totalum?” asked Ginny leaning her hip on the table.
“Tried everything. Anyway, it doesn’t matter,” responded Hermione dusting her sweater. “We’ll take them down; set some nice clean ones up. Make this place a bit more cheerful.”
“I think we already tried that the last summer we were here. They tried to strangle me!” called Ron from another room.
“Well we’ll try it again. We battled Death Eaters not even a year ago.” said Ginny giving the curtains a look of minor defiance, “I think we can take on a couple of curtains.”
They proceeded to inspect the rooms separately, swiftly examining what awaited them in the next few days for cleaning. As they walked along the hallways, Ginny heard a muffled rattle coming from the room across her. Instantly reflexes took over, her wand whipping upward and her ears listening intently as she carefully opened the door. Looking around the room, she noticed it was more of an old office. Books, papers and furniture were still thrown and misplaced here and there from when Snape raided the building, but it was obvious that this room had once been very important to someone. Where there once were rows of bookshelves filled with books, now they were all scattered along the room covered in dust. The curtains were dirty and bleak, giving the room an extra air of loneliness and the pictures hanging on the walls gave it an aura of abandonment. The office was clearly once very handsome, and Ginny noticed there was something rather different about it compared to the rest of Grimmauld Place. It seemed almost a bit warmer, more inviting than what the rest of the building lacked. With a shock she realized it was the color of the walls—an opaque scarlet color, dusty from the many years of the room being unused. This office could clearly only belong to one person, whom would go out of his way to piss off his relatives only a bit further than usual; Sirius.
The rattling sound came again and this time Ginny caught the movement out of the corner of her eye. One of the drawers appeared to be shaking. A boggart, she thought grimly. Thinking she might as well get it over with, she flicked her wand towards the drawer, and it sprung open. But nothing came out. She walked cautiously towards the drawer expecting the boggart to be waiting for an opportune moment. The only thing there however, was a thick, worn looking belted notebook that was slightly ripped from the spine of the cover; a single vintage flower was painted on it at the corner.
Ginny reached for the journal warily, remembering the time she had found Tom Riddle’s her first year at Hogwarts. Knowing what she had to do before anything, she began immediately to strip the journal for any curses or jinxes that could have been placed on it. Once assured that she tried every spell possible to detect dark magic and nothing appeared, she breathed a sigh of relief.
But there was something different about this journal, anyway. It’s was benign, nothing mysterious or suspicious about it. While Riddle’s diary was seductive and unsettling, this journal merely gave her actual curiosity. Besides if this was once Sirius’ old office, there wasn’t a high possibility that he’d have something cursed here. Then again, she thought, this was the Black family household.
She was still wary about looking through it but reckless curiosity took over; she opened the cover carefully, her wand still gripped in her hand in case something did happen, and waited a few moments looking around for any visible changes. Ginny shrugged off the feeling of foreboding and looked back down at the journal.
Chances are, if you’re reading this, that I’m not there to hand this journal to you. I’ve never been good at goodbyes, and I know that you know it. But since this is my last letter to you, I thought I’d make it special and so here it is; my journal—a last parting gift. Molly gave this to me for my fifteenth birthday and so I’ve been writing in it ever since. It’s rather special actually; it never runs out of pages. So as a last gift to me, I’d like it if you made good use of this journal—up until you’re ready to move on of course. The last thing I want for you is to dwell. I know you too well darling, and I could never ask that of you. When the time comes and you know you’re ready to move on, put the journal away and never look back. But always remember our times together. Remember our love. Remember me. Never forget that I love you. Always have. Always will.
P.S: As you’re reading you’ll notice—as I think you’ll find it hard not to—that I’ve tweaked with the journal a bit. Enjoy it my love. I love you.
Ginny stood by the desk with a dumbfounded expression, still holding the woman named Aliana’s, journal. How is it that after so many years of knowing Sirius, she didn’t even think that there might have been a woman in his life? She had only seen him as Sirius Black, Harry Potter’s brave godfather. A great, loyal friend and a second father figure to her boyfriend. Never had she thought to think of his past, except that during his time he had suffered great losses during the First War.
Intrigued, Ginny took a seat on the desk and flipped through the first few pages curiously. Her attention was caught again but this time it was a name. Aliana’s full name appeared just a page after the letter she wrote to Sirius, declaring in a girlish handwriting that this journal belonged to her, and whoever found it without returning it would suffer Bat-bogey hexes until Kingdom Come.
But what she read she couldn’t believe, because it was impossible. Suddenly the note had an impact on her. She would know…Her mother would have told her. With the journal in hand, she ran to find her brother, Hermione and Harry. In her hurry she bumped into Kreacher, knocking him a little off his balance.
“Oh Kreacher, I’m so sorry!” gasped Ginny helping the house elf up as she apologized. “I just—my head is everywhere right now.”
“No need to apologize, Miss Weasley. It is Kreacher’s fault of course.”
Ginny smiled warmly at the elf. “No it was not. Now do you know where Harry and the others are? I have something very important to share with them.”
Kreacher looked curiously at the journal in Ginny’s hand and a look of recognition morphed his features. He pointed towards a room two doors down and said, “Master Harry is in Master Sirius’ old bedroom. I shall let Mister Weasley and Miss Granger know that you wish to speak with them.”
“Thank you Kreacher,” said Ginny. The elf bowed once and with a CRACK he was gone.
Harry was looking at a photograph of the Marauders on Sirius’ bedside table when Ginny rushed in. One look at her and he knew: something was wrong. That was one of the many things Ginny loved about him. He always knew when something was bothering her, or when something wasn’t right. But before he could ask her anything, Hermione and Ron had just walked in as well.
“Kreacher told us you wanted to say something,” said Ron, drinking a Butterbeer. He handed one to Harry and offered the other to Ginny but she waved it away.
“What happened?” questioned Harry with a worried look.
Ginny showed them the journal. “I found this in Sirius’ old office. We need to talk with Mum.” She said seriously looking at Ron.
“Who’s is it?” asked Hermione curiously.
“That’s what I’d love to know,” said Ginny tightly. “Grab your coats. We’re going to the Burrow.”
“Ginny, you haven’t even told us what this about.” Said Harry clearly confused. “Whose journal is this? Why is it of any importance?”
A/N: Ooohh cliffy =) So what did you think? Please review, it really helps me out a lot and I'd love to know your opinion! Am I off to a good start? Bad? Good? Let me know!! =)
I want to give a special thanks to my friendTori (LunaLuver) for being so patient with me. I'm sure she'd love to see this story finished just as much as I do and to see a special pair appear soon ;) Another big thank you to my friend Amy (Caomoyl) for being very supportive whenever I told her I was getting back to my writing and I usually never did haha =P Girls thanks a lot!! I appreciate it! =)