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Anger. I hate that horrific and pitiful excuse for a human being. I hate that scum of a toad. I hate the bloody ministry, and I hate how Umbridge kills innocent kittens and then brews them to make herself even more repulsive, if that's possible. I hate how she thinks that her idiotic method of teaching won't be seen through, that teaching us not to defend ourselves is not just another way to get rid of muggle-borns. I hate that a woman who is probably a rejected dementor and who has an idol-like obsession with Gilderoy Lockhart, is really married to Stan Shunpike, has mutated feet that screech because they are attached to her, and has an affair going on with Mrs.Norris, and has the power to ban my three best players from Quidditch.

What, did you not hear? Of course not, sarcasm is lost on a diary. Well then, let me tell you.

So, I'm at the Quidditch game and am losing horribly. Ron Weasley has none of the talent that his older brothers do. No wonder he hasn't got a girl. No offense to the boy, I do like him, but someone has to be honest about how he Keeps and it's me. Anyway, those bloody Slytherins are chanting a mean song about him,--which they just came up with and are using to further humiliate and intimidate him. The song was basically about Ron's Keeping skills, but added in were a few cutting remarks about his home and background.

Harry, though, managed to catch the snitch because, well, he's Harry. So, everyone was happy, but then, a bludger hit Harry. Mind you this is post-snitch-catching.

No one cares about Crabbe though. He is just a brainless little love slave of Malfoy's. So, I am still celebrating because we won, and that's always cause for celebration.

Then that bloody git of a human being who doesn't deserve to have a name much less a broom comes and starts insulting Harry!

"We wanted to write another couple of verses!" Malfoy called this rudely as Alicia and Katie hugged Harry. "But we couldn't find any rhymes for fat and ugly, we wanted to sing about his mother, see —"

"Talk about sour grapes," It's a shame I couldn't think of a more creative insult at the time. Well, it was rather creative, but hardly mean enough, which was what I was aiming for.

"— we couldn't fit in useless loser either – for his father, you know —"

Stupid ferret, stupid, stupid! (I wish I could've seen that day) He should have shut up; I should have cursed him into oblivion! Not that that would have done any good, his daddy would have bought his passage back.

At this point Fred and George were shaking Harry's hand, quite enthusiastically, when they caught wind of what Malfoy was saying. If only they could control their emotions, give Malfoy a sneer and turn back to Harry. Instead, they were heading towards him.

"Leave it!" I order Fred as I grabbed hold of his arm, gosh that boy is strong!

"— but you like the Weasleys, don't you, Potter? Spend holidays there and everything, don't you? Can't see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you've been dragged up by Muggles even the Weasley's hovel smells okay —"

I held on to Fred in hopes of restraining him and Alicia and Katie joined me. I wouldn't have worked him so hard in practice if I knew it would go against me. Stupid karma. Then Malfoy insulted Harry's deceased mother and he released George which resulted in a combined attack on Malfoy. Somehow I managed to hold on to Fred, my hold on his arm pleading for him to stay back. The rest of the team watched in horror and a sort of satisfaction as Harry and George beat Malfoy to the ground.

All the teachers were watching, and those idiotic and brain-dead boys unleashed a physical attack. Us girls screamed at them, desperate in our agony. Quidditch. Quidditch ruined. Done. All gone.

Harry and George and Fred suspended. All because of Umbridge. I just left. I couldn't take it. When we got to the common room I said a few, well chosen, words and went to my dormitory. I got you out and closed the curtains.

It's just so horrible, and I was getting caught up in a social life to forget that Quidditch is something the twins and Harry hold dearly. I don't know how they'll be able to stand it.

I feel guilty, if I hadn't responded to Malfoy and instead went for a teacher maybe none of this would have happened. I know it's not totally true, but still!

Nothing else happened worth mentioning today. Just depression. Maybe I'll jump off the astronomy tower now that my Quidditch career is over. Well, actually, mine isn't. I'm just so sorry for the team, and for Harry and George. And Fred. I've realized I still do fancy him a bit, and —

Oh my GOD this is not the time, Angelina! I truly have some sort of disease, don't I? Now, where was I, ah yes, alternatives to living.

Perhaps I'll curse Umbridge until she destroys me. Or maybe I'll see if I can test the twins' products.

No, even in this mood I'm not that idiotic. Except for the part about hurting Umbridge. That sounds good, really good. While I'm at it I could get the minister and take him down too! Or perhaps I'll use their bodies as brooms. Or wood for the fire beneath my cauldron in potions.

I'm all cried out though; tomorrow I'll start looking for a seeker and new beaters. I think I'll just cry myself to sleep tonight.

Wait a second…there's something in my diary…something wedged between the later pages…

It's a note! Or, well, something of the sort in an envelope, addressed very plainly in blue ink to Angelina Johnson. Wonder what it could be…

Oh my gosh. It's…it's…well, I'm not really sure what to call it just yet…just see for yourself, I'll copy it in here…

Angelina-

I feel some regret that this information could not be passed to you in a somewhat more elegant way. However, whether spoken or written, the message is the same: Someone…in fact, the one who wrote this letter, fancies you.

It can't really be said any other way. I realize how strange and stupid this may sound, but it's just a statement of the facts. And it's just that, the fact, that I do like you in more than just a friendly way. Something about seeing you makes my stomach roil oddly, and something about talking to you keeps me smiling for hours.

I do hope you're not simply repulsed by this letter, that you believe it and who knows…it may possibly raise your mood…?

Sincerely,

Your Secret Admirer

I don't really know what to think, I'm just…shocked! I mean, I've heard of these things happening…watched them in Muggle TV shows or movies…but, they don't actually happen!

Wait, wait, wait, wait. Hold on. I've forgotten something. This note was in my diary. You, the book I keep all my deepest darkest secrets and thoughts in. And seeing as I'm the only person authorized to open it…how did that letter get in?

Oh, god. This can only mean one thing. Whoever wrote this…hoax of a letter to undoubted play some bizarre prank…must've broken into my diary! That means someone may just have viewed said deepest darkest secrets and thoughts that I put in here. SOMEONE BROKE INTO MY DIARY!

Someone broke into my diary. Wait, doesn't that mean this someone should have ridiculously long hair and skin that's more than just a bit off-color? What about my spell?

Oh, who am I kidding? I've never been that brilliant. It's definitely possible someone craftier than I could've easily gotten past my spell.

SOMEONE BROKE INTO MY DIARY! I definitely have reason to panic. Someone…one can only guess who…broke into my diary, and may have READ IT! And then they added in this silly trick letter. I've got to find out who.

Well, let's look at the facts, shall we? It can't be anyone from another house; no Gryffindor would give away the password…it could be a girl, it could be a boy, because they can always just fly up the staircase once it turns into a slide…

So it's a Gryffindor is all I know. Brilliant start, eh? Ugh, I can't think about this right now. You know, half an hour ago I thought things couldn't get worse, but I think they just did.