Dear Diary,

I felt kinda weird the whole week. Snape didn't say a word about that detention that he didn't give us, and he didn't give us another one, either. Anyway, who cares about Snape? Let's talk about something else...

Well, Malfoy wasn't as talkative as Snape. He hadn't said a word to me at all this week. He's just ignored me, not even giving me a measly glance! Diary, that feels bad. It would be awesome if you did understand me, Diary.

Anyway, it really hurts. I mean, I thought that we were having a great time together. You know, just having a good time. But I guess it meant nothing to him.

Whoa! Okay, Diary, I just spent the last minute reading what I just wrote down. What am I saying? I mean, it's not like Malfoy and I had sex or anything...right? Right.

Then why am I acting this way?

I mean, I'm sixteen and I'm still a virgin! So, technically, I shouldn't have the problem that I "seem" to be talking about. And I don't. I mean, it seems like I'm talking my "love life" or my supposedly "sex problem." Both of which, I do not have!

So why am I freaking out?

Great. Now I'm freaking out about freaking out! God! I am so pathetic...

Diary, I know that if you could talk, you'd say, "No, you're not pathetic." But I am, Diary! I mean, first I was freaking out about something that possibly was just a dream, then I was freaking out that I could be just blowing it out of proportion, and now I'm freaking out that I'm freaking out too much.

Tell me that I'm not paranoid, so I can chant: Liar, liar, pants on fire.

Okay, Hermione, just breathe. Well, I have to go and eat lunch. Then I have some homework to do. Then, maybe, I can talk with Harry and Ron about nothing important, and afterwards, supper. Hopefully, I'll be miserable enough to write some more in here.

Bye.