A/N: Aaaannnnddd...this is it! Thank you so much if you've stuck it out this far in the story. This is the first fan fiction I've ever completed in full, so I'm super excited to post this for you. After a couple of years of hiatus, I am back to working on the blog. Be expecting the first chapter of Hermione Granger's Diary: Year Two around Christmas 2016! As always, if you feel compelled to, please favorite/follow/review-let me know if you'd be interested in another. J.K. Rowling created and owns the vast majority of these brilliant characters and, more importantly, this story. All my love and appreciation goes out to her for her literary genius and for being the most awesome person in the world.

15 June 1992: Monday

It's strange, seeing our small dormitory at the top of Gryffindor tower empty. Lavender and Parvati have already packed up their decorations, gathered up their pets and trucks, and hauled everything down to the common room. Only I'm still here, sitting on my comfortable bed and looked around at our home for the last nine months. The beds are still here, as is the wood-burning stove in the centre of the room, but all the character is gone from the room.

I've enjoyed my first year here. I must admit that it hasn't been easy. It took a lot of courage to enter a world that I had no knowledge of until last summer. I thought immediately that I'd be accepted for who I was, just because we all had our magical abilities in common. I realise now how barmy that was. Just like Muggles, wizards and witches vary in personality. We're all, Muggles and magical people alike, just human. While it took me forever to make my place here, I'm so happy that I have.

I'm going home today. Back to Wandsworth, back to Mum and Dad, back to my old bedroom with my shelves of books and small personal writing desk, and back to Samantha. I'm going to tell her all about Harry and Ron and everything we've done so far, and that might be awkward. I actually have friends (plural, not singular), two of whom will probably never meet my first best friend. I hope she realises I haven't replaced her—there's room in my heart for multiple best friends.

Lavender just popped her head in, her blonde hair catching the sunlight from both of the windows in our section of the tower. 'Hermione, Ron and Harry are looking for you. I told them you were just packing up. We have to go soon—are you ready?'

I sighed and looked around the room one more time, preserving all the corners, shadows, and imperfections in my memory as best I could. 'Yes. I think so.'

17 June 1992: Wednesday

I've been home for two days and I've been so melancholy that I haven't felt like writing. Something spectacular happened at the End of Term feast, and thinking about it just makes me wish it was the start of a new year at Hogwarts. Oh well…only 75 days to go until I'm back on the Hogwarts Express…

We did eventually convince Madam Pomfrey to let Harry attend the feast. It was a pleasure having him with us in the Great Hall again, but the other Gryffindors were irritable, because we'd lost the house cup. Actually, it was worse than that–we were in fourth place. Even with the intervening weeks between Harry, Neville, and I being caught out of bed, and the subsequent points we all tried to make up, there was no climbing out of the hole we dug.

But nobody at the feast acted angry with us. In fact, because of what had happened with the Stone, we were all treated like celebrities.

'Hey, Harry, good to see you well again!' Lee Jordan greeted Harry.

'Ron! Tell us about the chess match again! It was bloody brilliant!' Seamus called.

'Hermione, you can sit with us,' Lavender offered.

I of course couldn't forget just how rude Lavender and Parvati had been to me the morning after Harry faced Quirrell and You-Know-Who. I'd come back to the dormitory after Dumbledore sent me away and collapsed on my bed in exhaustion, barely realising my roommates were both still there, watching me with wide eyes.

'You were out again all night,' Parvati said with pursed lips.

I sighed. 'I'm exhausted. Now is not the time to discuss this.'

'No, now's the perfect time!' Lavender said, placing her hands on her hips. She reminded me of my mother when she's cross with me. 'We're not going to have any points at all at the rate you and your stupid friends are going.'

'Ugh,' I replied.

'Seriously, Hermione!' Parvati said. 'You pretend to be so smart and then you make the same stupid mistakes over and over again.'

At that point, I couldn't handle it anymore. I stood up on my bed and pulled the curtains shut, desperate to block their judgmental voices out. I remember wondering: what gave them the right to lecture me? I'd made a lot of mistakes in the last school year, but I'd also just helped save their lives and they didn't even know it.

So when they offered to sit with me at the feast, I very cooly said, 'No thanks,' and stuck my nose in the air as I passed. I didn't need their conditional friendship—I had the real friendship of Harry and Ron.

Of course, now that I look back on it, I rather wish I wouldn't have been so rude. I still have to share a bedroom with them when I get back to school. I'd much rather they be indifferent to me than hate me.

We weren't there long before the teachers filtered in. Professor Dumbledore took his place in the middle, held up his hands to draw our attention, and began his end of year speech. 'Another year gone!' he said. He said a few words about us forgetting all we learned over the summer (which I doubt is even possible–I studied so much) and then gestured to a magnificent golden trophy sitting on the table in front of him. 'Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding. The points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with 312 points; in third, Hufflepuff, with 352; Ravenclaw has 426; and Slytherin, 472.'

The Slytherins began cheering wildly, pounding their fists on the table and sneering at us in particular. I've never approved of the Gryffindor/Slytherin rivalry, but at that moment, I was so annoyed that I scowled back.

'Yes, well done Slytherin. However, recent events must be taken into account.' Everyone at the Gryffindor table instantly perked up. We all knew at least one thing–Harry was about to be rewarded big time. It may not be enough to bring us ahead of Slytherin, but it would probably be enough to get out of fourth place. 'First, to Mr. Ronald Weasley…'

Ron's eyes bulged with shock. Whatever he was thinking, he wasn't expecting Dumbledore to single him out.

'...for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points.'

362 points–ten ahead of Hufflepuff. All around us, people chatted and laughed. Ron was a hero. We could hear Percy bragging him up to anyone who would listen, including the Ravenclaws at the table next to us. Ron was beet red by the end of it and looked to me nervously. I gave him a grin, because he deserved this recognition. Not only had he won the chess game, but he'd sacrificed himself. He was, quite simply, brilliant.

'Second–to Miss Hermione Granger, for the cool use of logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house fifty points.'

412–still in third place, but only 14 back, and we had yet to see how many points Harry would be awarded. I buried my head in my arms, determined not to see the other Gryffindors' faces as they talked about me. It didn't block out their words, though.

'Yeah, Snape had this potion puzzle and Hermione was able to figure out how to move on to the next chamber,' Dean explained to someone whose voice I didn't recognise. He only knew the story, because I explained to him why I had to come back and leave Harry behind.

'Was she really able to pick out which was wine and which was poison?'

'Crikey, I'd still be stuck down there.'

I was thankful when Dumbledore continued. 'Third–to Mr. Harry Potter, for pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points.'

472 points–tied in first place with Slytherin. I wasn't at all jealous that Harry got ten more points than me. I hadn't faced You-Know-Who. Of course, most of the school wasn't aware that Professor Quirrell wasn't after the Philosopher's Stone for himself, so I imagine there were a few people who were annoyed that Harry got more attention. Ron and I didn't care. We cheered with the rest of the Gryffindors, ignoring the way the Slytherins were watching us, as though we were stealing their big day away from them.

We stopped celebrating only when Dumbledore raised his hand to silence us. 'There are all kinds of courage. It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom.'

482 points–we'd won the house cup. We were in shock–how had Dumbledore known about Neville trying to stop us? None of the other Gryffindors seemed to know or care what Dumbledore was talking about. They cheered, threw up their hats, pat Neville on the back, and hugged all four of us.

'Neville,' I said, turning to him amidst the celebrating. 'How did he-?'

Neville, who's been avoiding me since the night I petrified him, blushed and said, 'When your spell wore off, I ran to Professor McGonagall and told her. I thought for sure I'd get you in trouble and get in trouble myself, but I also thought it was more important. You guys were going after the Stone and I knew it couldn't be safe.'

'Wait,' Ron added. He'd been listening in. 'You knew about the Stone?'

'Of course I did! You three aren't very quiet when you talk, you know.'

I laughed. It didn't matter that Neville told on us or that we had performed a spell on him. All that mattered was that we were all safe and somehow, by some strange miracle, we'd all won the house cup together.