The True Confessions of Hermione Granger
July 8th
It's almost unnerving how dependant I've become on this blank little book. It's been, what?—just over two weeks, and only five entries, but I feel like I must put down all important happenings here, or I won't remember them. "Important happenings" in my life seem to be rather fleeting right now, though whether that reflects the insignificance of my life or the sheltered quality of life at the Burrow, I wouldn't know. Sorry, I've just started Proust, at the behest of Remus—or maybe just because I saw it among his papers, shh. A bit depressing indeed, but incredibly broadening. Or no, I suppose the depression is due to the broadening. Remus seems to be having quite the influence on all of us, actually: besides being Harry's close confidant, I've seen Ron and Ginny earnestly listening to his recollections of his school days, eyes shining with inspiration.
And that brings me to my second point! Ron. Ron! It's a bit nerve wracking, being around him lately, but I think I've perfected a balance of friendship and hands-off interaction that will ensure he stays at bay until….well, until he gets over his ridiculous crush. Unrequited love is difficult to maintain, and especially so for Ron. It's only a matter of time.
I've finally lost my fear of flying! I owe that to Charlie, he's up here for the month and was giving the rest of them Quidditch tips while I'll looked on (Proust in hand, of course). Caught sight of me and demanded to know why I wasn't on a broom. He's worse than Harry and Ron with the whole Quidditch thing, if you can believe that. Sort of reminded me of Oliver Wood, actually, only a bit more laid-back. I couldn't shake him off with the usual answers, and before I knew it I was seated in front of him on his Comet 260, taking off above the trees. My goodness, he went so fast I neared gave a technicolor hiccough, if you know what I mean. But he was very calming, must be all the work he does with dragons, soothing them so they don't set him on fire and bit off vital limbs and whatnot. The whoosh, the rush! No, really, I believe quite a bit of my hair ended up in Charlie's mouth at some point, whipping jauntily like a proud flag in the brisk broom-induced wind. So he has the forbearance of a saint, that, because my hair is quite prickly and rough when thrust into one's face a speeds nearing the sound barrier. To cut to the chase, I soon took control of the broom and then even went up myself, the Weasleys and Harry cheering me on and lauding Charlie for his ability to do what no one else could, and coax me willingly onto a broom.
It was quite fun.
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July 12th
Burrow v. uneventful, but v. relaxing. Spent the past few days lazing about. Did fly some. Can't be bothered with complete sentences. Homemade ice cream delicious.
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July 13th
Mum and Dad are back from France, they managed to send me an owl correctly! I brought back Apollonia from a quick nip down Diagon Alley right at the beginning of the summer while we were in London. She's a gorgeous Jamaican owl, imported from the Americas, and I do think she was the best present I could have brought them. Dad was quite taken with her. In addition to their note, they sent me Le Petit Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, which I adored as a child, and will also further my knowledge of French. Just in case Remus decides he does want to know if I have that good a grasp of it.
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July 16th
We're off to town! I fear what will become of Ottery St. Catchpole. More tomorrow, when I have time.