Disclaimer: I own nothing - all the characters and stuff belong to the lovely JKR.

This is my first story in about a frillion years. Is sheepish. I've had so much stuff to do, blegh, school. adkfdsl, I hate it so much. Anyway, this is my first time writing a 'diary' story, so be kind. Hermione's had a hard year.

12/27

Diary,

This is a new thing, I guess. Ron gave me this – you? should I call this you? – anyway, he gave me this book for Christmas. It was surprising, to say the least, after that last year's tragic perfume incident. Honestly, that kid does not know girls. First off, that perfume bottles was the most hideous thing I've ever seen, and sort of smelled like a dead pig. Only sort of, though. It's the thought that counts, I guess.

Christmas was alright – I got a lot of books. My parents sent me some knitting needles and a pair of reading glasses. Harry gave me some hair ties and a nice bookmark that changes color to match the cover of the book it's in. Ginny gave me a scarf and a play toy for Crookshanks. And, of course, Ron gave me a journal with never-ending pages. I could literally use this thing for the rest of my life. Looking back now, I see that my friends and family honestly want me to turn into a Cat Lady.

I've been spending break at Hogwarts this year, seeing as how the Weasley house is much too crowded for Harry, Ron, and I to squeeze in. Bill and Fleur's wedding has been set sometime in March and they've been shacking up at Mrs. Weasley's until they can find a flat of their own. Bill's face has been clearing up little by little, but it still makes me cringe when I look at him. I know I shouldn't, but it's really hard. Anyway, Christmas has been pretty dull this year – McGonagall has really been trying to bring in the cheer, but it's next to impossible without Dumbledore. Hogwarts really hasn't been the same since he was murdered.

Just talking about it makes me want to punch something really hard, preferably in the face. Dumbledore was a great man, and Snape was a vile little vermin, much like Pettigrew. I'm glad Ron killed him – Severus, I mean. I would've, but I didn't have the stomach. Plus, I was unconscious at the time, but whatever. I'm glad Voldemort's dead. Harry killed him. The Death Eaters are gone, well, mostly. Some are still hiding in little cults here and there, waiting for The Ministry to come and annihilate them. When I graduate, I want to be part of the squad that find them. Those creeps took too many lives – including many of the teachers at Hogwarts.

Wow, that got me upset way too fast. It was a couple of months ago that The Final Battle, as some reporters at the Prophet like to call it, ended. It turned out just like we wanted it to – Voldemort dead, Harry alive. We hardly lost anyone in the fight, well, anyone I knew. A couple of students tried to win the first advance and lost their lives almost immediately. The teachers came in the second wave and nearly eradicated the Dark Mark. Then it was just Harry and Voldemort. It only lasted five minutes before that thing fell.

I've provided you with enough background information on me. I feel like I'm writing this for a school report or something – I've never been one to keep a journal. I'm just doing this for Ron's sake, like with the perfume. I wore it a few times, but then after getting complaints, I accidentally dropped it out a window where it fell, say, fifty floors to its doom? I'm off to bed.

12/28

12:56 p.m.

Diary,

That pig, THAT PIG! I cannot believe he has the NERVE! I've never wanted to kick anyone in the gut so badly as Ronald Weasley! That boy will never learn, I swear it!

Today, I was just minding my own business, taking a little nap on the sofa like everyone does every so often. I wasn't bothering anybody, because, well, there was no one to bother. I don't think I was snoring, either.

I thought I felt something crawling across my face. But was I bright enough to get up and check a mirror? NO. OF COURSE NOT, BECAUSE SOMETIMES I AM AN IDIOT WITH BAD, HEARTLESS FRIENDS. Make that friend. I only have one true friend in this whole world and his name is Book. Book is good to me. He helps me with my homework and makes me laugh. He doesn't scribble all over my face IN INK.

My EX-FRIEND Ronald is very unlike Book in the fact he's a stupid fathead. He thought it was funny to write "I'm a big know-it-all," all over my face while I was sleeping. I didn't even know it, either, until I got to the Great Hall for a late lunch. I noticed a few queer stares from the stand-in professors, but I thought nothing of it. I get those looks a lot.

I WANT TO KICK HIM. ASJDHFDSKFJD, I WANT TO KICK HIM SO BADLY.

Thank God for the mercy of Ginny Weasley. How those two could be related is an anomaly to me. I mean, for Pete's sake, he's eighteen years old! Grow up! Anyway, she dragged me into the girls' lavatory and we scrubbed for what seemed like an hour. The ink faded some, but I can still read the words when I look in the mirror. My face is all red and puffy and inky and I sort of want to cry. But I will not let that PIGHEAD see me cry. I will punch him, and then go cry in private.

12/28

5: 23 p.m.

Diary,

Okay, so, maybe punching Ron didn't exactly make me feel any better. It did help – wreaking inky revenge and all – but not as much as I thought it would. The instant I walked into the boys' dormitories, Ron burst out laughing. It was just him, Harry, Seamus, and Neville playing cards on someone's bed. I could see Harry's eyebrow rise, and Seamus' cheeks puff out, trying to keep his laughter inside.

Oh, I'm just going to say this right now: I love Neville. He is good to me. He sat on the bed like a perfect angel and continued with his idiotic card game without a care in the world.

"Ron," I said thinly, trying not to explode with sheer animosity, "you and I need to have a little talk."

Ron sidled off the bed and laughed in my face. "Nice make-up," he managed to gasp.

This is part where I sort of went insane.

"RON, YOU JERK, I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU WOULD DO SOMETHING THIS STUPID TO ME! YOU ARE A MORON. A BUGGERING, BLITHERING MORON WITH BAD HAIR AND A HUNCH IN YOUR SHOULDERS THAT WILL GIVE YOU A HUMP BY THE TIME YOU ARE FORTY. I HOPE YOU DIE."

I was on the verge of tears, but I had a plan. I just had to punch him and leave.

Ron is apparently fueled by insults. He kept guffawing like there was no tomorrow, with a nicely-added knee-slap and all. My nose burned and a tear leaked out and I felt really low. I tried remembering whatever I did to deserve this – but I couldn't come up with anything. I hadn't harassed him about anything for a week or so, because of the Christmas season.

My mind is a steel trap. It was set on inflicting pain on Ron. I stepped forward and punched uselessly at his gut with tears streaming down my face. My only thought was Oh, good job. That'll show him – a nice stomach massage. I turned sharply on my heel and ran out of the dorms.

The part that hurt the worst was the fact that he didn't come after me. He usually did. Whenever I would turn and run, he would always say "Hermione! Wait!" and come stampeding after me with his stupid clown feet. Not this time.

Now I'm in my room, scrubbing at my face some more. I feel like an idiot.

12/29

11:36 a.m.

Diary,

There is to be war. A war that shall go down in history forever as the biggest inter-house fight ever. People have already started taking sides. So far I've got Ginny and Neville and Lavender on my side. Ron's got Harry and Seamus. He's only got Harry out of best-friend dibs. This will change soon – I will woo Harry in time. He will learn.

Only problem is, Ron doesn't know he's in a war right now. He doesn't know he's the biggest opposition and he's my prime target. But he will know soon enough.

I wish there was something to do around this place. I can't go anywhere, not in my condition. No one is here to talk to – to my own disgust, I find myself wanting to Lavender or Parvati. Lavender was once convinced Ron liked me when they were dating, but her hatred of all things redhead has overruled that foolish nonsense. Whenever I'm upset at that boy, she's always there with a ready ear.

I also wish I could see my parents. I should've left on the train a week and a half ago. They wanted to spend the holidays with me, seeing as how I nearly died last year around these times. I wasn't able to spend the summer with them, either, seeing as how Platform 9 and ¾ had been overridden by the Dark Mark followers. The students were trapped at school, just like Voldemort wanted them. He wanted a mass genocide; he wanted to bring down Dumbledore's still-standing structure. Luckily, we won and he's gone and that's the end of that.

I want to hug my mom. I want her to tell me its okay. I might even want to hear one of my dad's weird tooth jokes. Ah, the secret lives of dentists. I want soup. I want friends.

My God I wish I had more homework or detention or something.

12/29

8:48 p.m.

Diary,

The ink is almost gone. The puffiness remains as a constant reminder of why I'm a) not speaking to anyone of male persuasion and b) waging war against a certain stupid redhead. I've been confined to my room so no one will have the chance to read my billboard of a face. There is absolutely nothing to do, considering I've done all my homework twice already and dare not sneak to the library in my condition. Ginny often visits, bringing me things from the kitchen and words of consolation. She tells me news of the warfront, or the common room as she likes to call it. Harry is normal, and this is good. Ron is a jerkwad, and this is also good. Jerkwads make excellent targets.

In my boredom, I've created a list of all the things I do not like about aforementioned Jerkwad:

TOP TEN THINGS TO DISLIKE ABOUT RONALD FATHEAD WEASLEY:

A memoir to his stupid, written by Hermione Granger

1. He is a moron. Anyone would agree with me on this.

2. He is too tall for his own good. Ron, since this summer, has shot up yet another few inches. He is exactly, as he likes to inform me all the time, six feet and five inches tall. Using this advantage, he likes to hold my books/homework/dinner above my head and say, "Jump for it," a lot.

3. He cannot for the life of him learn to use an indoor-voice. He shouts at everything. Even when in the library and I'm hissing at him to keep it down already, he still finds it appropriate to yell at the person a few aisles over to pass him a book on Quidditch.

4. He obviously does not own a comb. Just take one look at his hair and try not to gag.

5. He cannot do his homework without being helped along like a little four-year-old. This happens only everyday. He comes up with his name written on the top of his paper and says, "Will you do the rest for me?" And he knows I will. Damn his wooing ways.

6. He cannot go a day without using profanity of some sort. Harry once bet him he couldn't go a week without swearing, and as it turns out, he can't go half an hour.

7. He thinks that every time there is a boy-girl event, I will be his back-up partner for when he cannot find a date. We have had many experiences with this – partners in class, partners in homework, partners to the commencement ball for Headmistress McGonagall's induction. If only Krum could've come, but sadly he was off wooing millions of Quidditch-hungry teenage boys winning some sort of Cup or another. Next time, he keeps promising. Sigh.

8. He does not possess an iron. All of his shirts are wrinkly. I think he buys them pre-wrinkled just to annoy his mother and I. Thinks it makes him cool or whatever, when it makes him look a million times more like a moron.

9. Ditto soap. Often times Ron does not smell good. Noted times: right after Quidditch practice, mornings when his teeth obviously have not been brushed.

10. Ronald Weasley is cocky, and needs to be brought down immediately. This one speaks for itself. The reign of Ronald Weasley as resident jerk will soon come to an end. Oh, the glory that shall be mine. I feel like cackling.

I really want to go downstairs and get some dinner, but I know he will be there, laughing at me. Plus, the rest of the student body will probably laugh too. I don't feel like humiliating myself anymore. I just want Ron to apologize already.

I'm tired and ready for this all to be over.

So... please don't hate it! I'm sick and have been cooped up in my room ever since Christmas, and all of a sudden, I just wrote this all down. I've got plans for this one. :D

Reviews are always nice!