TRC: Masquerade Ball-mask(write a fic where the romance is told through a series of short diary/letter entries)
I don't know what I'm doing.
Madam Pomfrey was the one who forced this diary on me. She said it'd help me "cope". If Father was here, he'd strongly advise me against putting my thoughts into something that my enemies could use against me. He isn't here, however, and writing in this contraption does help a bit.
The scars from Potter's attack have healed, and Snape's assured me that he has been duly punished. The strange thing is that this news does not excite me as it once would have. I wonder if I am going mad. It wouldn't be the first time I have wondered such.
We had Defence Against the Dark Arts today, which I think is completely useless, but both Mother and Snape thought it important that I maintain my façade of the perfect student. Potter was late, so I was paired up with the Granger girl. I never thought I'd say this, but Merlin, she's good. We were doing non-verbal spells, and not only did she block every single spell I sent at her, but she tried to teach me how to block her as well. I don't think she's as bad as I used to think. Snape was so impressed with my progress that he decided she would be my permanent partner for the rest of the year. He said that she'd give me a much better learning experience than anyone else would, because she's so smart. I was strangely contented with the idea. Confirmation that I am going mad. Even then, I don't mind.
She waylaid me after class today and offered to work with me on non-verbal blocking if I helped her with offence. I agreed, and we practiced for about half an hour. She mastered most of the advanced magic that I taught her, but I'm still having a bit of trouble with blocking. She said we could do this more often. To be honest, it's cute that she's doing so much for me. It's better for me, anyway, to look dumb in front of her rather than in class while I fail terribly at this. It's strange: I've only known her this closely for a short while, and I already don't mind letting a few of my walls down around her. I think I'm better when I'm with her. I'm mad, but I like the feeling.
It was our fifth class today.
"You're different when you're with me," she said. "You don't sneer and scowl the way you usually do." Well, I think I picked the habit up from Father, and after spending the entire holidays without him, it's starting to fade. Before I could explain this, she smiled. "It looks better on you when you're happy."
I never noticed how beautiful her smile was before this. "You too."
I think I'm stalking her now.
Well, not following her, exactly, but my eyes scan the hallway for a sight of her, and linger too long on the little things she does, like the way she moves through the hallways, slowly but gracefully, as if she's a princess making her way through. How she crosses her arms and rolls her eyes when Potter says certain things to her. I feel queerly angry when she seems to blush whenever Weasley speaks to her. Am I jealous of Weasley? That would be sure confirmation that I need to be locked up in St. Mungo's. Or do I just want to protect Granger?
"Call me Hermione," she says, after our class today. I've lost count of how many, but our so-called "classes" have deteriorated into us sitting and talking about things that happened. We don't share secrets, but I think this is a start.
"When no one else is around," I promise. I have a reputation to maintain, and as sweet as she is, I fear Father's—and the Dark Lord's—wrath a tinge more than I value her.
I never knew her first name before.