A/N: As you can see, I changed the name of the story. Sounds neater and much nicer. Plus it fits into story-title-thingamajig. Btw, EVERYBODY REVIEW!

July 8, 1996, 9:59 AM

Still very shocked about Percy's departure, though as what he said last night sank in deeper into my brain, I'm starting to like the fact that he's gone. At least now we can run about as loudly as we bloody want and nobody's going to be yelling at us to stop making a racket so he can do his reports.

His attempt at trying to drag me off totally scared the shit out of me. Like, I know he's my brother and he just wants me to enjoy new things once in a while, but really. There is absolutely no need to yell at Mum and Dad so horribly and swear at them. He wholly forgot who raised him and fed him for twenty years and kept a roof over his head, the same people who have now been reduced to tears and are not sleeping well.

Hmm… I am now feeling a strong urge to hike up to wherever the hell he is right now and give him a good sound kick in the arse. Or in the area parallel to the arse. Whatever floats my boat.

10:13 AM

OMG, Hermione came early! She wasn't supposed to arrive for another week and a half. But I guess Mum took pity on my boredom and got her to come early.

Dad just came home, and carrying Hermione's things, with herself right behind him.

"HERMIONE!" I cried, launching myself at her rather ungracefully. She shrieked and hugged me tightly.

Yes, Hermione shrieked.

Dude, I guess she was really bored at her house too.

Ron suddenly disappeared, his face as red as a tomato. I ran up the stairs with Hermione and helped her set her stuff down. Mum had already magicked out a second bed for her next to mine, and Hermione shoved the two together to form a nice big queen-sized bed. She and I giggled like there was nothing left of the world tomorrow.

Yes, Hermione and I.


All right, gotta go for breakfast. I'll write more later.

1:15 PM

Just finished lunch. Hermione and I spent the entire day with Ron, Fred, and George, chasing each other around until I accidentally tripped over a gnome and broke my nose slamming into the ground, face-first. Ah, echoes of four days ago…

Except this time, my nose actually broke and it was so damn painful that I swear a piece of my nasal bone poked itself right through my skin.

Me: AIEEEEEEEEEEEEE! (I'm pretty sure I didn't scream like that, but Ron begged to differ)

Hermione: GINNY! OH MY GOD! races over, draws wand, prepares to heal my nose


Fred: laughs, makes no attempts to magick me some help

George: laughs, grabs Fred to sustain balance, makes no attempt to magick me some help

Mum: races out, mends my nose, makes us go inside and read

So now I'm writing in my journal while everybody else is reading. Well, Hermione is anyway. Ron's just staring at his fingernails, occasionally sticking his thumbnail into one and flicking something out from under it. Sexy.

Fred and George are playing some form of footsie with each other; Hermione is throwing odd looks at them. Hmm, perhaps she wants to join in. I have always thought that my twin brothers are somewhat hot.

No, it is not wrong to think so of one's brothers, as long as one does not plan on doing anything else other than think said brothers are hot. In my case, I just think they are hot.


Anyway, should Hermione ever marry one of my brothers, I should like it to be Fred or George. Don't get me wrong, there are huge anvil-sized hints that Hermione fancies Ron and vice versa, but I just think that Hermione will be much happier with Fred or George. Why? Because they have a sense of humour and aren't so bloody sensitive.

Ron's ears turn into carrots when he's pissed. Like, one second into getting pissed off, they carrotise.

Mum is still crying lots. I tried to cheer her up by making lunch, but failed miserably. My sandwiches kept falling apart. George eventually separated each ingredient and eating them with a fork. Everybody else did the same. Except, of course, me; they are my babies and I refused to dismember them. Even if I ate them.

My nose is still hurting a little, especially when I breathe. My hand hurts too. I should probably stop writing in here so much and actually start a letter to Harry, because the poor dude is stuck there with his sons-of-bitches of relatives.

But you know who the real son of a bitch is? Percy.


I must:

- write letter to Harry

- borrow Emma from Hermione and read it

- knock greetings on ceilings to Teapot

- shave

- find out what Mum and Dad are whispering about (still!)

- find a way to cheer Mum up

- kill the gnome that tripped me