**Disclaimer: No, I cannot take credit for the charies that take part in
this tale. I can, however, ask that you worship my goddess, J.K. Rowling,
for she is their sole creator.
CHAPTER ONE- NOTEBOOK
"RON! Why are you eating three pieces of toast at one time?" Hermione Granger exclaimed, looking at Ron Weasley in disgust as he snarfed down toast across from her at the Gryffindor table.
"I'm 'ungry," Ron declared, as bits of bread spewed out of his mouth. "And I like toast!"
"Well, it's awfully disgusting. Can't you just eat one piece at a time?"
Harry Potter shook his head. "Oh, hush it, the both of you! It's toast! It isn't a big deal. Right, Neville?"
He turned to face Neville Longbottom, who obviously was not listening.
Neville was slowly rocking back and forth, his sapphire eyes fixed upon the Slytherin table.
"Oh, Neville?" Harry snapped his fingers in Neville's face. Neville paid him no attention.
"NEV!" Ron shouted. "What ARE you staring at?"
Hermione, Harry, and Ron followed Neville's gaze to see what he was acting so oddly about.
Directly behind Ron, a very obnoxious voice was heard, and though the Great Hall was very noisy, this person's voice was louder than all of the students put together.
It belonged to Draco Malfoy.
"The stupid wally!" Draco declared snobbishly, drawing his nose up and smirking with great insolence. "Listen to this, it's a poem: 'She's.. Helpful- Educated- Reasonable- Mellow- Interesting- One of a kind- Nice- Extremely attractive'. That spells HERMIONE!"
All of the Slytherins listening to Malfoy's droning posh accent laughed hysterically.
"'Attractive'?" scoffed Draco. "Not what I would call 'attractive '!"
Hermione was suddenly very curious about what was going on. "Who wrote that, please, Malfoy?"
"Well, well, well... Mudblood Granger wants to know who exactly finds her attractive," Malfoy sneered. "I don't blame her. It mustn't happen often." He and his mates guffawed. When they finished, Malfoy added," Ah- I don't think you WANT to know. Are you sure?.." They laughed some more.
"What do you THINK?" Harry asked snappishly, knowing that something was definitely going on. "She asked you, didn't she?"
Malfoy ignored Harry, and said in a sing song voice," I wouldn't want to know if I were you!"
"It's probably no one," Ron snarled, making a fist. "Quit taking the piss, Malfoy!"
Neville made a noise as though he were being smothered with a pillow.
"I'm not lying," Malfoy grinned, waving to them with a black, leather bound diary. "I'll tell her. Just don't take out your anger on me, Granger! Your secret admirer (who should be kept secret, believe me) is NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM!"
The Great Hall seemed to explode with laughter. Hermione blushed.
Neville cried out in agony, and hid his face in his cloak. He ducked, but unfortunately landed in his flapjacks.
Ron choked on his toast, his face turning red.
"Bless `ye! Are 'ye all right?" asked Seamus Finnigan, pounding Ron on the back.
"Stop it, he's fine," mumbled Harry, looking a bit bewildered.
Draco strode over to their table.
"Oh, so I see that this sweet, little diary has caused quite a stir," he sniggered, swinging the journal about in his pale fingers.
"Give it here, Malfoy," snarled Harry, for what seemed to be the thirty- thousandth time, jumping up from the table.
Draco turned away from Harry in complete boredom, and spoke to the still- coughing Ron instead: "You know, Weasley? If you have to hurl slugs again, under the table would be the best place to do it, for all our sakes."
Ron swallowed his wad of toast in one gulp. "Say that again, Rat- Face."
Draco smiled coolly," You know, Weasley? If you have to hurl slugs aga-"
Ron stood up, cracking his knuckles, and advancing on Malfoy.
"Temper, temper." Draco shook his head.
"GIVE NEVILLE THE DIARY," Harry commanded through gritted teeth.
Ron swung at Draco, who ducked, and said innocently," Well, where is he, then?"
He heard Neville's muffled sobs coming from the plate of pancakes.
"Hello," Draco smirked, ripping his cloak from over his head.
Neville snapped upward, bits of butter and syrup on his cloak.
"Next time that you devote a diary to your Mudblood lover, try not to leave it on a desk, in a classroom, where others may find it. Here you go," Draco smiled, tossing the notebook at Neville's face. "Fat ass," he muttered.
Ron made a move to attack him once more.
"Is there a problem here, Mr. Weasley?" McGonnagal stood over him, frowning sternly.
"Not here, Professor. Maybe you should follow Malfoy to the Slytherin table. You'll find big problems there."
McGonnagal spoke sharply, her face as straight as her ebony hair, which was drawn up into a tight bun. "Keep those hands to yourself, Mr. Weasley, and perhaps Mr. Malfoy and yourself will not have quite so many conflicts." She walked back to the teachers' table, once again too late to witness what had really occurred.
Ron thought about talking, but instead sat down again.
Neville's face was once again buried in his robe.
"Oh, come now, Neville. It's over. And there's bacon here now!" Harry coaxed the still humiliated Neville.
"I'm never leaving this spot!" protested Neville in a small, timid whisper. "Never! Send an owl to my Gran, would you please, and tell her that I'm coming home."
"It's not as bad as all of that! Don't be a prat!" Dean Thomas declared, who had been surveying the happenings silently until then.
Ron was staring at Neville's shape with a less than thrilled expression. He sat chomping on a piece of bacon, and he didn't even taste it. He continued to crack his knuckles menacingly.
"Ron!" Hermione said quietly. "Malfoy isn't worth getting so upset over!"
Ron grumbled something that sounded remarkably like," ..Coniferous fir trees, I'd like to chop them.."
"What?" Hermione asked in confusion.
"It's not about Malfoy," Ron muttered.
"What's wrong with Ron?" Harry inquired.
"Oh, something about Malfoy," Hermione replied, shrugging. "Now, Neville, it's all right. Get out from under there, and finish your breakfast.
"YES, Neville," Ron said suddenly, with much sarcasm. "Come and join the table! We'd just ADORE to have you back with us!"
With that, Ron stalked off, mumbling to himself.
"Ron! Oy, wait up!" Harry called, running to catch up with him.
Hermione stared at the shuddering form that was Neville. "Don't be embarrassed," she told him. "Everyone has their secrets. Malfoy's just a jerk. He loves to put others down, so don't give him the satisfaction that he craves. I want you to pick yourself up, and hold your head high. Act like you don't care."
"But I do care," sobbed Neville. "I can't let you see me!"
"But, Neville," she replied," I'm looking at you right now."
Neville cried harder.
Hermione patted his shoulder and asked," Whose classroom did you leave this in?"
"I.. think.. it.. was.. Snape's," Neville gasped.
Hermione nodded, sure that she was beginning to understand what had happened. "I'm sure we'll find out if Snape was behind this," she murmured, shaking her head. "We've got Potions second period today. Now, get up, Neville. It's time to get to class."
Neville got up very slowly and walked behind Hermione with his cloak still over him. He stumbled and fell upon his face.
CHAPTER ONE- NOTEBOOK
"RON! Why are you eating three pieces of toast at one time?" Hermione Granger exclaimed, looking at Ron Weasley in disgust as he snarfed down toast across from her at the Gryffindor table.
"I'm 'ungry," Ron declared, as bits of bread spewed out of his mouth. "And I like toast!"
"Well, it's awfully disgusting. Can't you just eat one piece at a time?"
Harry Potter shook his head. "Oh, hush it, the both of you! It's toast! It isn't a big deal. Right, Neville?"
He turned to face Neville Longbottom, who obviously was not listening.
Neville was slowly rocking back and forth, his sapphire eyes fixed upon the Slytherin table.
"Oh, Neville?" Harry snapped his fingers in Neville's face. Neville paid him no attention.
"NEV!" Ron shouted. "What ARE you staring at?"
Hermione, Harry, and Ron followed Neville's gaze to see what he was acting so oddly about.
Directly behind Ron, a very obnoxious voice was heard, and though the Great Hall was very noisy, this person's voice was louder than all of the students put together.
It belonged to Draco Malfoy.
"The stupid wally!" Draco declared snobbishly, drawing his nose up and smirking with great insolence. "Listen to this, it's a poem: 'She's.. Helpful- Educated- Reasonable- Mellow- Interesting- One of a kind- Nice- Extremely attractive'. That spells HERMIONE!"
All of the Slytherins listening to Malfoy's droning posh accent laughed hysterically.
"'Attractive'?" scoffed Draco. "Not what I would call 'attractive '!"
Hermione was suddenly very curious about what was going on. "Who wrote that, please, Malfoy?"
"Well, well, well... Mudblood Granger wants to know who exactly finds her attractive," Malfoy sneered. "I don't blame her. It mustn't happen often." He and his mates guffawed. When they finished, Malfoy added," Ah- I don't think you WANT to know. Are you sure?.." They laughed some more.
"What do you THINK?" Harry asked snappishly, knowing that something was definitely going on. "She asked you, didn't she?"
Malfoy ignored Harry, and said in a sing song voice," I wouldn't want to know if I were you!"
"It's probably no one," Ron snarled, making a fist. "Quit taking the piss, Malfoy!"
Neville made a noise as though he were being smothered with a pillow.
"I'm not lying," Malfoy grinned, waving to them with a black, leather bound diary. "I'll tell her. Just don't take out your anger on me, Granger! Your secret admirer (who should be kept secret, believe me) is NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM!"
The Great Hall seemed to explode with laughter. Hermione blushed.
Neville cried out in agony, and hid his face in his cloak. He ducked, but unfortunately landed in his flapjacks.
Ron choked on his toast, his face turning red.
"Bless `ye! Are 'ye all right?" asked Seamus Finnigan, pounding Ron on the back.
"Stop it, he's fine," mumbled Harry, looking a bit bewildered.
Draco strode over to their table.
"Oh, so I see that this sweet, little diary has caused quite a stir," he sniggered, swinging the journal about in his pale fingers.
"Give it here, Malfoy," snarled Harry, for what seemed to be the thirty- thousandth time, jumping up from the table.
Draco turned away from Harry in complete boredom, and spoke to the still- coughing Ron instead: "You know, Weasley? If you have to hurl slugs again, under the table would be the best place to do it, for all our sakes."
Ron swallowed his wad of toast in one gulp. "Say that again, Rat- Face."
Draco smiled coolly," You know, Weasley? If you have to hurl slugs aga-"
Ron stood up, cracking his knuckles, and advancing on Malfoy.
"Temper, temper." Draco shook his head.
"GIVE NEVILLE THE DIARY," Harry commanded through gritted teeth.
Ron swung at Draco, who ducked, and said innocently," Well, where is he, then?"
He heard Neville's muffled sobs coming from the plate of pancakes.
"Hello," Draco smirked, ripping his cloak from over his head.
Neville snapped upward, bits of butter and syrup on his cloak.
"Next time that you devote a diary to your Mudblood lover, try not to leave it on a desk, in a classroom, where others may find it. Here you go," Draco smiled, tossing the notebook at Neville's face. "Fat ass," he muttered.
Ron made a move to attack him once more.
"Is there a problem here, Mr. Weasley?" McGonnagal stood over him, frowning sternly.
"Not here, Professor. Maybe you should follow Malfoy to the Slytherin table. You'll find big problems there."
McGonnagal spoke sharply, her face as straight as her ebony hair, which was drawn up into a tight bun. "Keep those hands to yourself, Mr. Weasley, and perhaps Mr. Malfoy and yourself will not have quite so many conflicts." She walked back to the teachers' table, once again too late to witness what had really occurred.
Ron thought about talking, but instead sat down again.
Neville's face was once again buried in his robe.
"Oh, come now, Neville. It's over. And there's bacon here now!" Harry coaxed the still humiliated Neville.
"I'm never leaving this spot!" protested Neville in a small, timid whisper. "Never! Send an owl to my Gran, would you please, and tell her that I'm coming home."
"It's not as bad as all of that! Don't be a prat!" Dean Thomas declared, who had been surveying the happenings silently until then.
Ron was staring at Neville's shape with a less than thrilled expression. He sat chomping on a piece of bacon, and he didn't even taste it. He continued to crack his knuckles menacingly.
"Ron!" Hermione said quietly. "Malfoy isn't worth getting so upset over!"
Ron grumbled something that sounded remarkably like," ..Coniferous fir trees, I'd like to chop them.."
"What?" Hermione asked in confusion.
"It's not about Malfoy," Ron muttered.
"What's wrong with Ron?" Harry inquired.
"Oh, something about Malfoy," Hermione replied, shrugging. "Now, Neville, it's all right. Get out from under there, and finish your breakfast.
"YES, Neville," Ron said suddenly, with much sarcasm. "Come and join the table! We'd just ADORE to have you back with us!"
With that, Ron stalked off, mumbling to himself.
"Ron! Oy, wait up!" Harry called, running to catch up with him.
Hermione stared at the shuddering form that was Neville. "Don't be embarrassed," she told him. "Everyone has their secrets. Malfoy's just a jerk. He loves to put others down, so don't give him the satisfaction that he craves. I want you to pick yourself up, and hold your head high. Act like you don't care."
"But I do care," sobbed Neville. "I can't let you see me!"
"But, Neville," she replied," I'm looking at you right now."
Neville cried harder.
Hermione patted his shoulder and asked," Whose classroom did you leave this in?"
"I.. think.. it.. was.. Snape's," Neville gasped.
Hermione nodded, sure that she was beginning to understand what had happened. "I'm sure we'll find out if Snape was behind this," she murmured, shaking her head. "We've got Potions second period today. Now, get up, Neville. It's time to get to class."
Neville got up very slowly and walked behind Hermione with his cloak still over him. He stumbled and fell upon his face.
