Mya, a harry potter fanfic

A/N: Wow, I've been posting a lot, haven't I! I must love you guys a lot! Here's a one shot that I wrote in about 15 minutes! I hope you like it!

Disclaimer: Ok, if I've said this once, I've said it one hundred times. I do not own Harry Potter. Or the song, which is Dear Diary by The Parselmouths. Go check it out after you read this.

There is a guy that I think you all know

Quite immature and his IQ is quite low

But just look at the joy and the love in his heart

Well, maybe he's worth all this falling apart

How do I describe Fred Weasley? He acts like such a bloody child sometimes! Refuses to study, gets really low marks, but yet is still adored by half of the female population at Hogwarts. Including… including me. Yes, I admit it. I, Hermione Jean Granger, am a fan girl. A completely and utterly pathetic fan girl. Not that Fred would ever notice me. He's too busy flirting with every other female in the castle. Excepting Ginny. That's only because she's his little sister, and that would be completely disgusting. Me because… I honestly have no idea. Is it really so bad for me to wish that he would flirt with me? Is it? Ginny tells me that I should get over it and go out with Draco Malfoy. That Draco Malfoy has been in love with me since my third year. But I don't like Malfoy! In fact, I hate him to the extent of actually nicknaming him Malferret! Why on Earth would he ever delude himself into thinking that he actually had a chance of me going out with him? Why?

He is loyal and courageous, well, for most of the time

But then he'll say something that gives you a sign

That his manners, and tact, are not quite up to par

The train of his thought does not go very far

Fred may act childish at times, but he is also a fiercely loyal friend. Most girls swoon over the Fred half of the Weasley Twins because of their "dashingly good looks," as the Twins themselves so eloquently put it. I, pathetically, "swoon" over Fred because of his ability to form everlasting friendships. Once you lose his trust, though, it can never be gained back. I'll get myself into that train of thought, but then he says something incredibly stupid, irritating, or downright rude. He always apologizes directly afterwards, though. Sometimes I wonder if he's ever truly in control of what comes out of his mouth. It's debatable.

One day, Fred approached me in the Charms Corridor. He was smirking widely, which is never a good sign.

"Hi," I greeted him warily. He faltered for a moment, and then continued toward me.

"Hey yourself, Granger," he replied, his voice oozing confidence. Inwardly, I sighed. I had thought that we were past the whole "calling each other by their last names" thing. Apparently not. What on earth could Fred Weasley possibly want from me? Homework help? Not likely. Fred Weasley never did homework. It was part of his religion.

"What do you want, Weasley?" I demanded, determined to get this awkward encounter over with. He shrugged, tugging on my ponytail until the elastic came out of my hair. I glared at him. He stepped back, still holding my elastic and smirking. There was an air of satisfaction around him.

"You shouldn't wear your hair up," he informed me. "It's not becoming." I wanted to smack him. Refraining, I tossed my newly freed hair over my shoulder and walked away.

Dear Diary, what am I doing?

He is dumb and a child, but then once in a while

He'll say something, dear diary

We were just friends, but somehow that all changed

My whole life rearranged, what is this feeling?

What is this feeling?

Fred does have his moments where he makes it seem possible for us to have an actual conversation. Like when he's talking about Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. His whole face lights up, and he talks animatedly for hours, never once noticing that I'm snoozing in my chair. It truly is fascinating, though. He and his twin George have invented things that have changed the way that I think about magic. At first, I was a pathetic little Muggle Born first year. I thought magic was like the Great Wall of China, solid and unyielding. But Fred and George taught me otherwise. They showed me how I could manipulate magic; how to change it and create something entirely different.

In my third year, the twins and I became close friends. Ron wasn't speaking to me, and Harry wasn't speaking to me because Ron wasn't. The twins took me under their wing and taught me their ways. I was no longer Hermione Granger, swot extraordinaire. I was now Hermione, accomplice to the Twins. Just Hermione. Just me. George called me Mione, a shorter version of my full name. Fred called me Mya, for reasons unbeknownst to me. I was one of them now.

When we were younger we did nothing but fight

Didn't even stop to see that no one was right

He was stubborn, and pushy, but then so was I

Well maybe there's something that we need to try

I'd always gotten along with George. He was always nice to me, talked to me when no one else would. Fred, on the other hand, well, at first he hated me. We argued so much in my first year at Hogwarts that easygoing George would intervene and make us take "timeouts" in our respective bedrooms. This tactic was not at all appreciated at the time. It most definitely is now. Fred and I still argue, but nowhere near as much as we used to. George still has to intervene occasionally, but less and less frequently as we get older. Fred hasn't gotten a "timeout" in months. Neither have I. He is still a very difficult person to be around, though. He has been moody and temperamental, especially lately. George chalks Fred's odd behavior up to hormonal imbalance, but I'm not so sure about that.

What is happening now isn't quite what I planned

Is it just me, or does he understand

That I look at him now in a whole different light

I really should tell him, but instead I just write

George gave me a diary for my fourteenth birthday. I'm not saying that is wasn't gorgeous, because it was. It was a soft cream color, with delicate pink roses in the corners and my name embossed on the front. But there was something about this diary that made me nervous. Was it a prank? Did he have a book that was linked to it? Would he be able to read everything I wrote in it? The thought was terrifying.

Fred didn't give me a gift at all that year. He'd changed over the summer. Gone was the laughter in his eyes, only to be replaced by a brooding look that had girls falling at his feet left and right. George acted a bit put out over this recent development. I can't entirely say that I blamed him. I was a bit (okay, very) annoyed by it too. One day, the two of us decided to play a prank on Fred. George sat next to me on the sofa in the common room. When he saw his brother coming, he wrapped his arms around me and we stayed that way for a few minutes. I don't know what Fred thought about it, but he took one look at us and dashed up the stairs to his dormitory.