Hermione Granger

Age: 17

United Kingdom

I'm Hermione and this is my journal.

1997.09.01

Entry 1:

It's hard to believe that so many years have passed since I first met Harry and Ron. Seven years, I think we must have all broken mirrors on that day really. We've been through so much. The Philosopher's Stone, the Chamber of Secrets, Sirius, the Triwizard Tournament, the Dept. of Mysteries, and last year the Half-Blood Prince, that's what Harry calls him now anyway.

I wonder what this year will hold, will it be like our first years together, or will this one be different? Will our string of luck change?

Percy's did, Percy's did a lot. He died. He was working late in the Ministry, trying to get some work done. He didn't have a chance. That's wrong, he did have a chance. If he'd not been so mean to his parents, and joined the Order he'd have been on his toes. I won't tell Ron's mother that, though.

Harry came to my room tonight, well actually he came twice. His first visit was really strange; it was, just, not the average visit I suppose.

: A loud knock thundered through the room, echoing softly off the walls. Hermione looked up at the panelled wall, knowing that's where the knock came from. She walked over to the wall, leaving her open journal and quill on the desk. She walked along the wall, wondering where the knock had come from, hoping it wasn't a ghost that would bother her all year.

A panel flew open to reveal Harry, his feet bare and his old t-shirt clinging to his body, letting him know it was now too small. He walked into the room, a shiny, green apple half eaten in his hand. He took another bite and smiled cheekily at her.

She hit him on the shoulder playfully before walking over to the small couch that faced her own private fireplace. She was in the Head Girl's room, her room for the year. It was so strange, being alone after all those years of the other girls snoring or mumbling in their sleep or slipping off to meet a boy.

Harry fell onto the couch next to her, taking up the small amount of space that was left between Hermione and the arm rest. It was a small couch, just enough space for them to fit, even if their bodies were pushed up against each other rather tightly.

Hermione and Harry leaned against each other, best friends who never noticed the flirting that had started in their sixth year. They'd touch each other, enjoying the warm, comforting touch of the other, lean on each other, hug each other, simple flirts that neither noticed.

"I wonder if my mum," he swallowed the bite of apple that had been in his mouth when he started talking, "let my dad come in here." He took another bite from the apple that Hermione knew was his favourite. A sour green apple, she didn't doubt that he had a whole trunk load of them.

"I wonder if he tried anyway," Hermione joked, knowing how to help Harry through something awkward. He'd always felt odd when something happened, like him being Head Boy just as his father was. He hadn't even been prefect, just like his father. It was strange; it made him miss his parents and Sirius even more.

Harry laughed and moved a little closer to Hermione, though there had been no gap to close when they sat, "I saw his initials carved in the bed, I put mine there too," he admitted before Hermione hit him softly with her shoulder, letting him know that she almost didn't approve. "Sirius put his above the fireplace; I think he slept on the couch most nights."

Hermione laughed, that sounded just like something Sirius would do, "Sounds like him, to lazy to sneak back to the common room." She leaned her head against Harry's shoulder.

"You know what's weird, Hermione?" Harry asked oddly before throwing his apple core into the fire. It landed on the flames and turned the flames a pretty purple as it burnt. He didn't wait for her to reply, "My parents got married a month after they left Hogwarts."

Hermione smiled and looked up at him, "Tell me, Potter," she said doing her best impression of Snape as she wrapped her hands around his bicep, "why is that odd?"

Harry smiled down at her feeling completely comfortable with her leaning on him. Her warm body resonated in him, causing his body to tingle all the way to his fingertips. "They were a little older than us when they got married, and we haven't even thought about strange things like that, have we?"

Hermione let out a small laugh, "Strange things like marriage?"

"Yeah, but love really," Harry said oddly. He felt a little odd talking about love with Hermione. They'd both had their share of odd relationships, Cho and Padma and Viktor and Rory, the Ravenclaw Head boy the year before.

"We've plenty of time for love, Harry," Hermione said softly. Harry didn't say a word, he didn't reply at all. He just continued looking into the fireplace.

Harry turned his head, looking down into Hermione's eyes. "I never told you about the prophesy." :

A prophesy, there is a prophesy about Harry. It's been a secret for more than a year, from me at least. I wonder if Ron knows, maybe he does. I'd think Harry would tell him, even if he couldn't tell me. Maybe he didn't tell him. I wonder if he did.

It is horrible though. How could he keep that bottled up for so long? I know how, he ignores it, refuses to let it enter his mind. He's always so playful anymore, always joking around.

Maybe he hasn't ignored it, maybe he's let it soak in, realized that he can't change it. Maybe now he's going to live his life happy, just to say to Voldemort, "You don't scare me."

Either way it must be hard. He is going to murder someone. It's strange, isn't it? How you never associate murder with the end of Voldemort. Or death. You don't think of death and murder, you think the fall of the Dark Lord, the end of evil in the Wizarding World.

But it's not really the end of evil is it? It can't be. Even if all those years ago Voldemort really had been defeated, look at the evil still going on. The discrimination against half bloods. Hagrid and Remus and I, we're all half bloods, aren't we? Does that make us different? I've always wondered, no matter what anyone says.

Harry's mum was muggleborn. She was Head Girl just like me. Does that mean that we're some how linked, Lily and I? I wish I could meet her. Ask her how she made it through school, how she got past the insults from the Slytherins. Maybe it never bothered her. Maybe she was stronger than I am. Maybe I'm just weak.

I will not think that about myself. I'm not weak. Harry says he's afraid I'll hurt someone at D.A. I know he's only joking, because he let's me partner with Ron and Neville and Ginny all the time. Once he practically pushed me into working with Cho last year, maybe he did want me to hurt her. That's not Harry though; I know he just didn't want her to be all by herself.

Harry is rather sweet, he would never hurt anyone purposely. He doesn't really pay attention to some things though. Which is why he came back.

: Another knock sounded at the door, thundering once more through the room. Hermione walked over and pushed the wall before it popped open. Harry stood in the dark hallway, looking slightly stressed. He didn't smile.

"Timetables!" he said as he walked into the room. Hermione shut the door as he raved on, "We make the timetables for everyone! No, don't tell us before we except this position! Just tell us about the cushy rooms and being able to be out at all hours of the night!"

Hermione lead him over to her desk and shut her journal as she sat him down. She conjured a chair and sat beside him. "Really, if you'd read Hogwarts-"

"A History, you would know," Harry said finishing her sentence. "How do you have yours done already?"

Hermione smiled at him as she pulled a quill out from a drawer in her desk, "I did the first and second years at home, and the third years before going to the common room, and the rest before you barged in."

"Why does your room smell like fresh laundry?" Harry asked as if he'd heard nothing. He sniffed a few more times and smiled oddly before looking at the work in front of him. "Smells good," he mumbled, "didn't notice it before."

Hermione laughed and started to help him write the other students' timetables. They worked quickly, and joked the entire time. They were interrupted briefly by Harry tickling Hermione until she fell off her chair, hitting the floor rather hard.

Harry quickly scooped Hermione off the floor, lifting her easily in his arms. "Alright?" he asked, his hands still gripping her tightly. She'd stopped laughing when she'd hit the floor with a loud thud, it sounded as if she'd hit her tailbone.

She didn't reply, her words were stuck in her throat, the fall had simple knocked the breath out of her, but now her body was tingling oddly. She shook her head laughing, "Yes, I'll simply remember that next time you need my help," she said before sticking her tongue out at him and sitting back down. :

He's always doing things like that, he always has. Him and Ron always coming to me for help. I suppose that's why we're friends. I like to be needed, I like that they come to me, even if it is just homework or doing the students timetables. I fit in with them I suppose.

When I first came, I didn't fit in at all. Ron even called me an insufferable know-it-all, even if I got over that. I did only forget because they saved me from that troll though. They're still the two best guys I know. If anything ever happened to them, I don't know what I'd do. I love them both so much, even if they think it's rather girly of me to say.

Ron's definitely acting different. It's a good different though. He's been a little down lately, well for the entire summer. He had to break up with his girlfriend, they'd been so happy together, but he fell out of love with her, at least that's what he said. He was really nice though, bought her candies and a little stuffed animal. She cried for days in her room, and Ron moped just as long.

But, I do know why he's acting different.

: Hermione walked behind Susan Bones, who was occasionally glancing back at the Head Girl as they chatted happily together. They were doing a patrol of train together and neither was paying attention to where they were walking, until Susan ran into something hard and stumbled backwards, almost onto Hermione's toes.

They both looked up at the face of the person Susan had run into, but his blue eyes were locked on Susan's, an odd smile playing across his face. Hermione knew that smile and the twinkle in his eye as he looked down at the blonde girl, dumbstruck look plastered across his face.

"Alright, Susan?" Ron asked softly, hoping his voice wouldn't crack as he spoke.

Hermione wondered if the girls face was as red as Ron's ears, which she thought would start steaming any moment now. "Alright, Ron?" Hermione asked, hoping to stop the staring contest, no matter how cute it was.

Ron looked up quickly, right into Hermione's eyes, "Erm, hi, Hermione," he said his voice cracking from embarrassment. His cheeks tinged a light pink as he swallowed heavily, his Adam's apple bobbing majestically on his throat.

"Erm, hi, Ron," Hermione said mocking him. She smirked at him viciously. :

It was rather cute, him looking at her like that. I sure hope she was looking at him the same way. Ron in love is always a better Ron, he didn't bicker as much and he'd do his homework more. The best thing, however, is he's happier.

Sometimes I wish Harry would fall in love, at least with one of the two girls he's dated. Then maybe I'd be positive he was happy, not just faking it for the rest of us. But, does love make us happy? Or is it just that Ron acts a little more mature when he'd with a girl he's fallen in love with? He's not happier really, is he?

He does smile a little more, those little odd smiles where the corner of his mouth goes up as he stares into space in the middle of class. Harry said he did it all the time in Divination, just stared into space, but when he was in love, which isn't at all what Harry called it, he'd smile oddly and for no reason.

Sometimes I think it'd be nice to crawl inside Ron's head and crawl around. It'd probably be rather messy, filled with odd thoughts and of course, the Chudley Cannons winning a quidditch match, which as Harry says is only possible in his dreams. I wonder what else would be in there though, memories of Percy. Good memories that he wishes he could forget because it makes him miss his brother more. The bad memories probably just faded away.

I wonder if it had been any other member of the Weasley family, would they have crumbled? If it had been Fred or George, or Bill, Ron, Ginny, would it have been different? If it had been one of the twins I think Ron would still be locked in his room. Ginny would probably have cried more. I don't know about Bill and Charlie, they were pretty upset when Percy died, they looked at him as their little brother, no matter what. Mrs. Weasley collapsed; Mr. Weasley simply caught her and lowered her to a chair.

I hate to say it, but I'm glad it wasn't me. I wonder if anyone else thinks that. I know it's normal to get upset about it, or to be sad, but I can't help but think, I'm glad it wasn't me. Is it wrong to think that? It is, but even if I say that now, wouldn't I have jumped in front of that curse? I would've tried, for anyone I think I'd try.