A/N: So how do you like my philosophical ramblings?They came to be when I was helping my mom bake cookies. (Who says cookies are bad for you?) I hope you enjoy and leave a review!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and I never will. *Sobs.*

Hermione Granger had never understood importance of a birthday. In her practical mind, it was no big deal. So what if she was a year older? It was bound to happen at some point. It was a passage of time. That was what time . It passed. Things grew things died, but they were replaced by new things. It was a simple and obvious concept in her mind. So she treated birthdays as if they were a treat; fun to have, but still just a mere frivolity.

In her mind, the world was a cut and dry place. Things were good, or bad. She either understood something, or she didn't. Everything was in black and white; no shades of gray. She decided that it made perfectly logical sense that way, and she couldn't find a reason to change her mind.

So she didn't understand why she got so sad when her best friend Harry Potter told her that he had never had a birthday party. At first, she had passed it off as the fact that everyone, even heroes, needed to have at least a little bit of fun. Still, a nagging part of her mind thought that it was something a little bit more. She pushed those thoughts away. She had an essay to finish.

On her birthday, when her mum and dad sent her presents with some owls, she was grateful for it. She had smiled, and sent them a very sweet thank you note and used the gifts as often as she could. But only because the sweater they had sent was beautiful, and it got rather cold in the castle. So she shoved her sentiments aside.

She didn't truly understand what a gift life and birthdays were until she got into her fifth year.

Everything was changing. Voldemort was on the rise, the ministry was in blatant denial, Umbridge was reigning in the Defense classes, and strangest of all, she had caught Ron staring in her direction on more than one occasion. It was strange, even for Hogwarts.

Of course she had known that going to a magic school would change her life forever. Of course she knew that there were going to be things there that confused her. But she had still been thinking academically. Not even for a moment had she considered that she would change on a deeper level.

She could have realized what was happening when she broke at least fifty school rules to make Polyjuice Potion in her second year, but she was too busy trying to find the perpetrator of the attacks, to look for reasons to her actions. She was, in her mind, simply trying to do what was right to save her beloved school.

She should have realized that her mind was rather limited in her Third year, when she had stormed out of divination, or even when she had punched Draco Malfoy, as she had wanted so badly to do every time he opened up that loathsome mouth of his, but she was so wrapped up in doing her school work, that she had had no time to reflect on what had happened.

She might have noticed that she was a tad bit different than when she started Hogwarts when she broke Ancient rules of the Tri-wizard tournament to help Harry survive the blasted thing, but then, Voldemort had been restored, and thus any form of self-reflection had fled her mind as she prepared for war.

But the thing was that she was changing without even noticing it. She wouldn't have noticed it either if it wasn't for Luna Lovegood.

It was after the Battle of the Department of Mysteries when she spoke to Luna.

"I don't understand it Luna," she had begun, after they were both healed up. "So much has changed, so quickly. I mean, I didn't bargain for this to happen. All I wanted was an education, but now, through some strange twist of fate, I have a war on my hands."

Luna just smiled at her. "Everything has changed,but nothing has changed. You're still the same person you were when you were eleven years old, but you're still different. You've grown into a woman, but you're still the same little girl. Do you understand? I can hardly explain it, but I understand it. Does that make much sense?"

And she did. Just for a moment, but she understood. She understood why her mother had cried when she turned eleven. But it was one of the things that even Hermione Granger, queen of essays, could never write a three foot essay about. It was just something you had to understand for your self.

So, how do you like it? Leave a review and make me feel better about missing a Pirates of the Caribbean movie! Please?

Love,

Ice