Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter do you think I'd be writing on FanFiction.net?! Noooo I'd be publishing these stories! So, needless to say I do not own anything Harry Potterish.
By the way, this story takes place in their 5th year okay? :-) Enjoy!
Hermione flopped down on her bed smiling. It was the Christmas Holidays and she had the girl's dormitories to herself. It had been a good Christmas, Hermione decided. Harry had somehow tricked Ron and Hermione into confessing they liked each other just a few days before Christmas. Hermione fingered the gold heart shaped locket that Ron had given her as a Christmas present. Inside Ron had placed a (wizarding; that means moving!) photo of Hermione on one side and a photo of himself on the other. Hermione was gazing at the pictures when the clasp undid itself and the chain slid off her neck and into a small crack between the mattress and the bed frame. "Shit!" Hermione exclaimed as she struggled to squeeze her hand into the small space. As her fingers finally closed around the cool metal chain and she gave a sigh of relief, her hand bumped into a piece of wood that moved slightly. She placed the necklace on her pillow and looked curiously at the loose piece of wood. It had shifted to the side, revealing a panel of a different color wood.
Hermione moved so she could get a better look. She practically had to stick her head into the crack when she noticed a small keyhole. Pulling her wand out of her robes, she pointed it at the lock. "Alohomora!" There was a small click and the panel swung outward. There was a small crevice and lodged inside was a leather bound book. Hermione bit her lip as she slowly pulled the book out, being extra careful not to rip any pages. Hermione wiped the thick layer of dust off the cover. Lily Evans was engraved on the red binding. Where have I heard that name before? Hermione thought. She stretched out on the bed and opened up to the first page. It was filled with small, loopy handwriting and with a jolt Hermione realized that it was someone's diary. And by the look of it she guessed it was from a long time ago. Shaking off the feeling that she was invading someone's privacy, she started to read.
Dear Diary,
My first entry. All the third years went to Hogsmeade today and I bought
you. When I saw you I knew I had to have you. I don't really have anyone
to talk to here, and absolutely no one I trust enough to tell my
secrets to. Gryffindor House is really nice and the people are really nice
also. My closest friend is Raine but she does most of the talking. She
is constantly telling me about her boyfriend, Henry. He's in Gryffindor
and he's nice enough I guess. He's also a year older than us. I've never
had a boyfriend and I doubt I ever will. I do like someone but I would
never have a chance with him. Its
. Promise you won't tell a soul.
Love, Lily
Hermione frowned at the blank spot. Who did she like? Hermione pulled her wand out again, thinking maybe it was written in invisible ink. "Visiblito," she muttered. A flowery script appeared in the spot that was blank moments before. Hermione's mouth dropped open. Written in the spot was: James Potter . Hermione reached for her text books and began rifling through them until she found the one she was looking for. Pulling a History of Magic onto her bed she turned to a page she had bookmarked and read.
The dark lord Voldemort came to his demise when he came to the esteemed Potter's house. He came with the intention of turning or killing the entire family. He succeeded in killing James Potter and his wife Lily Evans Potter, but their son, Harry survived the-
Hermione slammed
the book shut, her face white. She slowly slid off the bed and crept down
the hall to the boys dormitory. Carefully she opened the door and tiptoed
to one of the beds whose curtains were closed. She drew back a curtain
slightly and saw Harry turned to the side, sleeping peacefully. Not wanting
to keep Lily's diary to herself but not wanting to wake him either, she
reluctantly went back to her room and crawled into bed. She gently placed
the diary on the bedside table and as she blew out her lantern, she whispered,
"Good night, Lily."