A/N: Long time no writing. However, I've been struck down with the flu and am pretty much on bedrest, so what better way to pass the time?

"He's such a git." muttered Ron after they left their potions lesson. "Why does he always have to give us so much homework?"

"The Quidditch match is on Sunday. He probably wants to keep us from practicing so that Slytherin actually have a chance." Harry said solemnly. The boys turned to Hermione, who was rummaging through her bag as they walked, becoming increasingly frantic.

"Have either of you seen my diary?" she asked them. "it's just a small black notebook.."

"You mean the one that was out on the table in potions?" Ron said. "You should've picked it up."

She didn't bother to answer as she ran back to the dungeon. The door was closed but unlocked, the desks were cleared, the room empty. She unloaded her bag onto one of the tables, just to be sure she wasn't carrying it. She checked, double checked, and then swept the things back into her pack, and thought back. Ron, Harry and herself were the last to leave, and no one had walked close to their table as they exited the dungeon.

There was only one person who could have it. Snape. How was she going to get it from him, before he began to read?

ooooooo

Severus Snape had retired to his living quarters after his final lesson, a book in his hand. He threw it onto the coffee table in his living room, before stalking to the kitchen to get a coffee. It had been a long day. He returned to the lounge and settled himself on the sofa, mug in hand, and picked up the book.

What was it, and why did the usually organised Miss Granger leave it behind? He opened it at the first page, where he found her intricate handwriting, Hermione's Diary, keep out.

He smiled to himself. Such an adapt witch failed to protect her innermost thoughts, secrets and desires with any kind of magic? Such a primitive "keep out" message wouldn't even keep your average muggle from reading further. But still, why leave it in his class? He flipped through, trying to find the most recent entry, to gain some kind of insight. He knew it was a violation of privacy, but he could not bring his hands to stop turning the pages, or his eyes to stop scanning the page. Even the slight pondering about morals vanished from his mind as he saw his own name. He settled further into the sofa and began to read.

December 3rd.

Dear diary,

I fear that writing about Severus yet again will make me seem somewhat obsessed. Trust me, that is not the case. I am fully capable of keeping my hormones under control and I certainly have no time for a crush. However, every time I am in his dungeon, my mind fills with thoughts of him and his life. I have seen this man almost daily for years now, yet I know little about him, or how he came to be the person he is today. My mind swarms with questions, has he known love? Does he have friends? Why does he torment his students - is it simply because he hates us, or is it easier for him to keep everyone at arms length rather than let them get to know him?

Who is Severus Snape?

He closed the book and set it delicately back onto the table. Did she want him to read this? It seems she had written it in class. He stifled a smile at the thought. She had produced the best potion in the class, yet her mind had not been on her work. The smile was soon dissolved, however, as he thought over the content. Who did she think she was to be asking these questions? What business was it of hers what his life was?

He slid the book onto one of the many bookcases in his room before he set off to the great hall for dinner.