1997.10.05

Entry 7

I think Harry's lost the plot in a big way. Well, yes, yes he's lost the plot. He's acting strange and looking at the ceiling and biting his lip and closing his eyes for a while then opening them up, and for no reason. Well, it happens a lot when Ginny's around, maybe he fancies her more than I thought.

: Hermione stood in the hallway, waiting for Harry to come to the Room of Requirement. He was already five minutes later for their meeting time; if he was too late the members would show up before him.

She finally noticed him coming down the hall as the screams of Ginny and Ron erupted. He was barely five feet away when Ginny burst out of the room, two or three of the buttons of her shirt unbuttoned and her hair flying every where and falling back down on her white shirt. She'd discarded her robe and shoes and came running out in her stocking feet. before you had that she had gotten rid of her socks, yet she was walking around in stocking feet?

Ginny grabbed a hold of Hermione and looked up at Harry still smiling, Hermione noticing little drops of water on her face.

" 'Ello, Harry!" she laughed, and he looked at Hermione. She'd pulled her hair back tightly with his ribbon and was almost completely out of uniform. She still wore the gray skirt but the tie and her nearly missing white shirt were replaced with a simple t-shirt, a thin silver chain dipping down on the v-neck collar. in the third paragraph you say she had her shirt still on….

"Where have you been?" Hermione asked placing her hands on her waist, causing the short white shirt to ride up on her stomach a little, revealing a thin tan strip of skin.

Ginny quickly pushed Harry, his cheeks tingeing a soft pink, causing his eyes to snap up onto her face, "Let's go, Potter," she laughed before disappearing back into the room.

Harry's eyes lingered where she'd been before going back to Hermione before he looked up at the ceiling, biting his lip once more. He looked back down at Hermione, who was now eyeing him oddly, her hands still on her waist, slowly causing the fabric to edge up even more. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, "Oy, Hermione," he said with a cheeky smile before walking past her into the room. :

I suppose it's just a boy liking a girl. I sort of wish I was Ginny, making a boy blush like that. I've never made a boy blush just from my smile, but then I'm not Ginny. I'm not envious of her in a bad way, she's like a sister to me, but I wish I was as pretty as her.

Even if she doesn't think so, she's beautiful. Her hair falls in perfect ringlets without trying and her hazel eyes have flecks the color of Welsh gold. She has Ron's tall lanky frame, but she's still not taller than Harry. She's not shorter than Harry either, like me; they're the same height.

She's good at quidditch as well, I'm sure Harry likes that. She's taken after all her brothers, she's very tomboyish, but it doesn't take away from her femininity. She's just everything Harry could want in a girl, really.

I feel so bitter saying that, but I mean it. They'd be great together, Harry and Ginny. Like everyone says Ron and I would be good together, but Ron and I wouldn't be good together would we? So, everyone is wrong. It doesn't matter if you look cute together, because if that mattered Ron and I would be together.

I've known that all along, but still, Harry and Ginny would be great together. They would look just like Harry's parents, Ginny and her red hair.

I wonder if things like that are fate. Are we're destined to be with one person because of things like that. Maybe Harry and Ginny are meant to be together because Ginny has red hair like Harry's mum and Harry is just like his dad.

If we're destined to be with someone, does that mean that they're the person we love or just the person we spend the rest of our lives with? I know not everyone that marries is in love, but does that mean they're not with the person they're destined to be with?

I know my parents are in love, and Ron's and Harry's were, but what about Malfoy's? Are they in love? Maybe they're not faithful to each other so they don't count as spending their lives together. Maybe they are in love; maybe they have their own sick twisted version of love. Just because they're evil, though, doesn't make them unable to love, does it?

Love is however the one thing that can defeat Voldemort. Does that mean he is unable to love? I think he may be. He didn't love his mother, or his father; he loved nothing. He loves power, but is that really love? It could be, or does love always have to involve two people?

No, I love Crookshanks, and Harry loves Hedwig, and Ron, whether he admits it or not, loves Pig. So, life. Does love have to involve two beings that have life? Two thinking, eating, breathing, living beings?

What is love really? My dictionary says strong affection and warm attachment. Strong affection, but affection is a kind or loving feeling. So to love you must have strong affection which is really a loving feeling. It's a large circle of things undefined.

Isn't that life? A big circle of things undefined. No, scientifically life is the antonym of death, which is absence of life. So, life is the absence of death that is the absence of life. Another circle, even scientifically.

But, philosophically, life, what is it? Is it the time one is on this earth? Or is the real question, what's it all about? Why are we here?


Harry's here to kill Voldemort. That can't be all his life is about, can it? Can his sole purpose of life be to kill someone, regardless of who they are? If it is, what is the purpose of Voldemort? To kill people. That cycle is vicious, and one I'd rather not be part of.

If Harry's purpose in life is to kill Voldemort, was his parents purpose to have him? Was he they're reason for life and when he was born they were thrown carelessly away?

There's Harry knocking.

He's just gone now. He's so quiet sometimes, so distant, and at others he's bouncing off the wall. I don't understand it. Sometimes we're both feeling the same way, and it's so comfortable with him.

: "Oy, Hermione," Harry said as he walked past Hermione, pulling her up in his arms. He spun her around and then set her down before walking over to the couch. He jumped over the back of it and landed on the cushions with a loud thud.

"Hullo, old chap," Hermione joked as she walked over to the couch. She looked down at Harry, who was laying across the couch, his legs dangling over the end while his head rested on the other.

He smiled cheekily at her as she tried to move his legs with no result. She sneered playfully at him before falling, rather hardly, onto his body. He let out a small high pitched sigh and squirmed a bit, but let her continue to sit on his body.

"Alright, Potter?" she asked as she squirmed on his body to get comfortable.

"Hermione," he gasped, "stop moving," he said pausing between each word.

Hermione jumped up, afraid she was hurting him more than he was letting on, "I'm sorry," she said turning around to look at him. His face looked pain and his one leg was raised slightly into the air.

He looked into her eyes and smiled, a genuine smile, "It's alright," he said before he pulled her back onto him, making sure she fell a little father up on his waist. "I've been thinking," he said softly, so soft in fact, Hermione almost didn't hear him.

She looked down at him, trying to register the words. They clicked in her mind, the soft words finally coming together into a thought. "Oh," she said with a soft smile. She looked into his eyes, his unfaltering emerald eyes. "What have you been thinking about?" she asked as he bent his legs, creating something for Hermione to lean on. She leaned against his bent legs turning towards his face slightly.

"About marriage," he said a little louder. He was rolling his teeth in his mouth, thinking about the way he worded his thoughts. She wondered why he'd put so much thought into his words, they'd always been so comfortable around each other, so why dance around her now?

Hermione smiled cheekily, "So, what you're saying is that we really do think about strange things like marriage?" she laughed at him. He looked so cute just staring up at her with millions of different thoughts running through his mind. She wished she could know what he was thinking, what was causing him to be so careful with his words.

"Yes, Hermione," he sighed rolling his eyes as if she'd been nagging him for hours. She knew he was playing and rolled her eyes back at him. There was a long pause before he spoke again, "I was just wondering, if its destiny. Are our lives laid out to be with a certain person, or is that just a child's dream?"

Hermione almost let her mouth drop, he'd just asked her a question about something she'd been pondering herself. She was stunned, shocked that he'd been thinking of that as she'd been writing it. "I, uh, well, um," she stuttered around her words for the first time in her life. Her eyes fell from his, looking down as she thought.

She slowly looked back up into his eyes and they held, for those brief moments, something she couldn't understand. There was a fire almost, but not a raging fire that blinked and flashed. It was more like a warmth, a heat, that was glowing in his eyes.

Hermione opened her mouth to say something but Harry raised his finger to her lips, "I wonder," he said with a soft smile playing across his lips. It was a smile he'd never had before and Hermione couldn't figure out what it was, it seemed to hold much more underneath. "How can you be sure some one is your soul mate, how do you know?" :

Harry touched my lips with his fingers, and when he did, they started to tingle and didn't stop until well after he left. I just stood staring at the closed panel, my fingers where his had once been, wondering why his fingers had that effect on me.

I think it was just that his fingers were so warm and inviting, which sounds like a strange thing to say about fingers, but that's how they felt. It was nothing more than a nice feeling on my lips, which caused them to tingle.

I have no idea why I touched my lips afterwards. I don't know why, but I touched my lips softly, feeling the spots where his fingers had once been, enjoying the tingling sensation.

It was probably the tingling, nothing more. It's not as if I fancy Harry and his simple touch makes me tingle.