Hi! So this is my first fanfic on - but it's the 11th fanfic I've written so far.

In this story, Hermione is a bit...one might say...out of character. However, I have always assumed that Hermione is hiding a rather hyper counterpart, which she does so in order to maintain her reputation (I know I certainly do).

I'd also like to add that the issues Hermione is going through with Ginny (the "You need a boyfriend to be less neurotic" issue, that is) is actually based off my own life - just a note. LOL.

Disclaimer: At no point in my life did I or will I ever own Harry Potter or the characters. That is all from the magic hand of JK Rowling. So, hold your attornies and set them on someone else. Smiles broadly. I hope you enjoy it!

September 19th

So, today is September 19th, as you obviously should have concluded from the date of this entry. If not…well that's nothing short of pathetic, isn't it? Honestly! Some people just never seem to get down the simple skill of deduction. Idiots. If everyone just stopped for one second and

Okay. I'm going to stop writing about that topic, as I really don't wish to bore you with a five-page rant…okay, so I wouldn't care. In actuality, Harry is staring over me and is reminding me why I was given this diary. To which I say: Go find your own diary to look in, Potter! Er, sorry…

Right. So, to answer dear Harry's question:

I received this diary because I, Hermione Granger, turned 17 today. Hums happy birthday to herself. Oui. C'est la vie. I'm finally of age, and in my final year of Hogwarts. Which, I will admit, is a bit depressing. Oh well…I'll just get back to the topic of my birthday.

So, I woke up this morning and decided that I would not, as I normally do on a Saturday, wear my uniform (yes, I will admit it, I can be odd sometimes). Instead I decided on a pair of blue jeans that have been hiding at the bottom of my trunk and this sweet short sleeved blue shirt I have that has a V-neck (nothing inappropriate – who do you think I am? Lavender?). That didn't stop Ron, Ginny, and Harry from staring at me as I walked into the common room Harry and I share as Heads, which we, of course, let our friends come into.

So, being myself, I glared at them and demanded what was up, to which Ron began stuttering and then blushed and looked away, and Harry simply remained silent and continued staring.

Ginny, however, being the obnoxious (yet loveable) person she is who is unembarrassed by any situation, replied, "We had no idea you actually had a figure, Hermione."

To which I responded that she was an absolute prat and that Ron and Harry were being gits. But everything worked out okay, because then they insisted on giving me presents (to save their skin, I believe).

Yes! Presents! The presents I received, because Harry and Ron finally remembered that I have a birthday! You'd think they'd remember the other six years…or even ask why I hadn't celebrated a birthday…but no. I had to write them a letter pretending to be an anonymous source. Sometimes it's helpful that those two boys are incredibly naïve.

Anyway, back to my presents.

From my parents, I received the most gorgeous necklace imaginable. It's a golden chain, and hanging from it is a sapphire shaped like a drop of water. And, as if that wasn't enough, they sent me a matching pair of earrings. Yes, one wouldn't expect Miss Hermione Granger to get excited about that – but I'm a girl, too, all right? So, really, Lavender can quit pestering me to give them to her.

Ginny gave me a book entitled, "So You Can't Get a Boyfriend - Five simple and easy ways to snag the guy of your dreams!" Thanks, Gin – incredibly subtle. Apparently Ginny's under the impression that if I had a boyfriend I wouldn't be a neurotic freak who cried at the idea of an E. Well, I'm sorry if my education happens to be important to me. Boyfriend. Honestly. I don't need a boyfriend! I mean, who needs a boyfriend when I have…er…Dobby! Okay, no, that didn't sound right. Not right at all… I'll come back to this later…

Mrs. Weasley sent me a home baked pecan pie and this gorgeous sweater she made. It's this bottle green color that goes splendidly with my hazel eyes, and Harry's, actually. Unfortunately, I don't think he could fit into my sweater, not that he doesn't want to. Poor bloke. I saw him staring greedily at my sweater…or maybe it was a dull bored stare, but honestly, the two expressions are like two peas in a pod. Truly, they are.

Mr. Weasley, who never usually sends me presents, gave me a collection of outlets. Apparently he believes one can never be without too many outlets. I couldn't bear telling him that I had enough outlets in my house. It's the thought that counts, after all.

Fred and George were kind enough to send me a bottle of hair straightener from their shop – a bottle that I will not be touching and will soon tragically find itself at the depths of the lake. Really, like I'm going to let them turn my hair into…into a raccoon or something.

Parvati and Lavender both didn't get me anything, though I have a nagging suspicion that they teamed up with Ginny on the book thing. They're on my case about having a relationship with a guy as well. They're insane, I tell you, insane! I don't need a boyfriend! I'm the most unstressed person in existence!

Anyway, back to the subject of gifts and me. Because this is the one day where everything is about me. Or, you know, five minutes of it is about me.

Luna got me a subscription to The Quibbler. Not sure what I'll do with the magazines…probably use them when I need a good laugh. Or something to rant about. Did I mention how much I like to rant? My favorite ranting topic is house-elves, but I'll save that for later.

Ron, the idiot he is, got me perfume again. I haven't the heart to tell him that I despise perfume, and usually end up giving it to Lavender or Parvati as a Christmas gift. Which is truly awful of me, I know, but then at least somebody is putting it to good use. And Ron's feelings aren't hurt.

To go on a tangent, Ron has a very small understand of the female species. He assumes that all girls love perfume and make up… Sighs Oh, Ron… Of course, it's absolutely obvious that he has a thing for me. I'm not trying to sound conceited, it's just really painfully obvious. I still haven't figured out how I'm going to tell him he's like my brother. I think I shall put that on my To-Do List, which currently consists of:

1. Free the houes-elves

2. Convince Neville that the heliopaths Luna told him about in fifth year do not exist, and that it is indeed safe to go in for a career at the ministry if he chooses

3. Convince Ginny, Lavender, and Parvati that I do not need a boyfriend

4. While I'm at it, convince the three mentioned above that I am not neurotic.

5. Convince Harry that sneaking into my room and creeping into my bathroom while I'm in the shower is not a good idea of a joke, is an abuse of his power as Head Boy and having a room next to mine, and an absolutely perverted thing for him to do, especially as my best friend

And now, of course, I have 6. Break Ron's heart without actually breaking it.

Goodness, I have a lot to do…but more on that anon.

Oh! Malfoy got me a gift as well! It was a sweet little letter, which I will pen in here for you.

Dear Mudblood,

Who would ever imagine that you would live to be 17? Hopefully you'll be the next mudblood to be murdered – it's a shame that it didn't work out in second year. Would've saved us all a lot of trouble. And our eyes, as well.

Wasn't that the sweetest thing you ever read? I think it's my favorite gift. I'll treasure it forever. That or burn it. Yes, I think I'll go with the latter.

Now, for the final present, which, of course, was from Harry. Being the dear he is, he gave me…this diary. With this message inscribed on the front page:

Dear Hermione,

We all know that you're verystudious neurotic (the neurotic seems to be in Ginny's penmanship - apparently she snuck in and crossed out the studious and replaced it with that horrible word. I will be having a word with that Weasley girl)and take everything extremely seriously. However, I know on the inside you're probably bursting to be…well, I don't know. Something else. You're someone who I imagine keeps a lot in you, and probably dying to curse as well. So, I present you with this diary, so that you can write everything you really feel, and so that I can sneak looks and know what really goes on in that head of yours.

Your dearest friend,


Thank you, Harry, dear. That's exactly what I need to hear…or rather read: that I need a diary to remain sane. How sweet. And no, you cannot look at what I write in this.

Did you not read what I just said? Stop looking in here, Damnit! No, you were not right. Quit snickering. I didn't curse because I was dying to do so. I did it because you're being a complete prat.

There. That's better.

Truth be told, the diary is gorgeous. It's hand bound and has lightly colored blue parchment. It must have cost him a great deal. I really am grateful for it, and it's one of the few gifts that showed he actually knew me, because whether or not I'll admit it, I need an outlet.

Honestly, what with penting up all my craziness, etc., for school, I need somewhere to be the...me that's bursting to come out, as Harry so eloquently worded it.

Now, I'm going to close this diary and put it somewhere where Harry will never find it, because he's getting very nosy lately. Have no idea why. Must ask Ron. Or Ginny. Ginny seems to have a strong understanding of why males do what they do. Yes, definitely will ask Ginny.

For now, I must go on patrol with Harry before we go to breakfast…I'll probably take the time to lecture him on privacy and explain how from now on I will be putting an extremely strong lock on my bathroom, so he can quit trying to break in. The pervert, honestly.

I wish I knew what has gotten into him.

And if I find one more couple making out in the library (how dare they abuse the books!) or fondling one another in a niche somewhere…I swear I will be permanently scarred for life.

September 19 – Later today

Okay, just finished breakfast. So, now I'm relaxing, as it's Saturday and I've already done all of my homework for the next week. Poor Harry and Ron are racing to finish their homework for advanced Potions. Snape will have their skin, he will, I swear it. And I will not help them this time, because they are insufferable gits who never do their work.

Okay, so I'll give them two hours before I pity them. They're lucky that troll came along in first year.

So, I had a nice conversation with dear Harry during patrols, which I will record in here.

Me: Okay, Harry. I need to have a word with you… Hey! You! Yes you . Didn't anyone tell you that making out in the hallways is strictly for- get your hand out from under her shirt this instant!

Harry: You couldn't have gone a little lighter on them, could you?

Me: Harry, they were basically having sex in the hallway. I don't know about you, but I certainly didn't want to witness that!

Harry: There's nothing wrong with watching a couple having a healthy shag, Hermione. You can learn a lot.

Me: You're an absolute pervert, you know that?

Harry: And that's why you love me. Harry flutters his eyelashes innocently as I glare at him.

Me: Speaking of which, let's get back to what I needed to talk to you about.

Harry: Which was?

Me: Quit trying to sneak into my bloody bathroom while I'm taking my shower!

Harry: But it's so much fun to hear you scream as you hear the door unlock and to slowly open the door to find you red with rage with a towel hastily wrapped around you.

Me: Fun? Fun? Harry James Potter!

Harry: Oh, don't full name me, Miss Hermione Jane Granger.

Me: Cute, Harry, very cute. But I'm not sure if you're aware of this – in society, it's usually frowned upon to see someone of the opposite sex naked unless you're married.

Harry: Married? Laughs. You're such a prude, Hermione!

Me: I'm prudish for not wanting you to see me naked?

Harry: Okay, well, no…

Me: Ha. I'm right. As always.

Harry: You are not always right!

Me: I am, too.

Harry: Are not.

Me: Raises an eyebrow . I bet you your Firebolt that Lavender Brown is in the library behind a stack of books making out with her present boytoy.

Harry: Does it have to be my Firebolt? How about…a stick. From outside. That I pick up randomly from the ground. And add pieces of grass to at the end.

Me: Ha. You know I'm right.

Harry: Okay, so you're right. I admit it. Can I sneak into your bathroom now without you blowing a gasket? Smiles evilly .

Me: Harry Potter, you are insane.

Harry: Indeed, but so are you.

And that ends the conversation. It was so much fun. I should have more of these weird conversations with Harry.

Damn. I forget to ask Ginny why Harry is acting like this. Must remember to do so tomorrow.

And I also want to lead a revolt among the house elves…but they seem to be very stubborn. Honestly. Why can't they just realize that they want freedom?