A/N: Just something I came up with in between classes. Anyway, this story should only be about four to six chapters. Please review!
From The Journal Of Hermione Granger
From the Journal of Hermione Granger: Entry 1
It is time I set my quill down to write. Since I am not entirely sure how long I will live these days, I have decided to start a journal. Maybe to help people fully understand what it must've felt like chasing Voldemort, to know how we—Ron, Harry and I—have felt if we didn't know if we could live until the next week, maybe even the next day. I am not sure anyone would truly understand what it would feel like.
Ron's departure had not been too long ago. Harry and I are currently in Godric's Hollow. I am presently residing in the main bedroom of their old house. Harry had requested from me that he be alone when seeing his parents' graves. I completely understood. If Ron were here, he'd probably get angry and ask why I'd do anything for Harry.
Perhaps it is time to divulge into my feelings for him. No, not Ron. I am absolutely sure how I feel about Ron and my feelings do not go past platonic.
Harry, however, is completely different from Ron. I have felt more ease with him.
In first year, when I was saved from the troll, I had no doubted became friends with Harry and Ron. Of course, it would be normal for one to be extremely grateful towards the two of them. I was. Except, more grateful towards Harry. We hadn't gotten very well at the beginning, but I found myself leaning more towards Harry because Ron enjoyed picking a fight with me. So it was set. I had gotten a crush on Harry. By the end of my first year, I was sure it was a mere schoolgirl crush, which was pointless to an intelligent girl such as myself.
So when second year came, I grew into a panic when my feelings hadn't changed at all. When Muggle-borns started getting petrified and Harry was being blamed, I became determined to help him. What I hadn't expected was that I, myself, would get petrified. But by the end of the second year and I found out Harry had saved me yet again, I was even more grateful.
Then our third year came. Harry was in danger because of Sirius Black. He got sent a Firebolt. Then I turned it into McGonagall much to Harry and Ron's disappointment. I knew they would get mad; but Harry's life was on the line and I had to act fast. Having Ron angry with me, I could live with. But it was completely different with Harry. I pleaded to him to forgive me. And with luck, he did. Then we were thrown into a task together. We were to save Sirius, the innocent victim, and Buckbeak, the hippogriff.
Before long, our fourth year came. I was intent on getting Harry to notice me. And then I found out that Harry had gotten a crush on Cho Chang. You could hardly imagine my disappointment. Then the Triwizard Tournament happened and Harry was chosen. He had barely survived the first task, so I decided to help more than usual throughout the rest. Afterward, there was the Yule Ball. I had gotten my hopes up that Harry would ask me, thinking that it would be easier asking a friend than someone else he didn't know. I thought wrong. My hopes got lashed down when Harry was showing no sign of interest and when none other than Viktor Krum asked me. So I hatched a plan. I would go with Viktor and also try to make Harry jealous. Then Ron got jealous. So I gave up that year. It didn't take me quite long to figure out that I was in love with Harry. Four years of friendship could do that to a person.
Then came our fifth year. Umbridge came into school. We were forced to break the rules. Harry, Ron and I were the main founders of the DA, a group we formed to go against the Ministry of Magic. Soon Ron became the new Gryffindor Keeper and Harry was banned from Quidditch. The DA became more serious. It wasn't long before Harry had gotten his first kiss with Cho. And their failed date seemed to brighten up my mood. Harry and I were thrown into more situations together. We were trusted by Hagrid to take care of his half-brother giant, Grawp. Then the Battle at the Ministry happened. I was hit with a curse. Ron had told me when I was in the hospital wing back at Hogwarts that he had never seen Harry so angry before after I was hit unconscious. This appeared to make me feel better.
Tragedy struck during our sixth year. Things began to get even more tragic than the year before. Harry was growing into a state of depression because of Sirius. There were girls fawning all over Harry. I had to admit I was pretty angry. Soon Ron started acting strange. I even tried openly flirting with Harry, just complimenting him casually. Ron started being a prat after I told Harry he was "more fanciable than ever". Then Ginny came to me with a predicament. She had told me she had never really gotten over Harry. What was I to do? I remained a good friend and gave her advice on how to win Harry over, advice I should've done. What I hadn't counted on was them actually getting together. I was fuming. I vented out all my anger on Ron, making him think I was jealous of his relationship with Lavender. Then Harry and Ginny broke up because she wouldn't be safe. I felt my anger grow even more.
Then we set out for the Horcrux hunt. Ron left and Harry and I were alone. It was horrible. Since the two of us were by ourselves now, I was more nervous around him than before. A single touch could send me rigid. But I knew he was still thinking about Ginny lately.
Harry and I settled in yesterday afternoon, deciding to rest in his old parents' house. We entered the dusty, unused house by unlocking the door with magic. We stood there in the foyer, taking everything in. It had a heavy layer of dust everywhere. Every step we took, dust particles would go flying.
"How about I take the spare bedroom?" I suggested, knowing Harry would want to stay in his parents' room.
"No," He said, shortly. I looked taken aback. He cracked a smile. "I'd feel more comfortable staying in my old room."
I took in a shuddered breath. "Oh. So I'll be staying in—"
"My parents' room, yeah." He finished, shrugging.
I nodded and we went up the stairs. I opened the room to his old parents' bedroom. We roamed around it, cleaning as we went. We then went to his room. We opened it and it looked how it exactly should look like after Voldemort attacked. Harry took in a quaky breath and walked in first. He paused in front of the light blue baby crib, staring at it with a certain glint in his eyes. I felt pity for him. I placed my hand on his shoulder and he turned to look at me. In one swift movement, I hugged him tightly. He returned it gratefully, pressing his face to my neck.
"Thanks," He said, pulling back to look at me.
I blushed lightly. "It's nothing." I released myself from his tight grip around my waist.
I began walking around the room, cleaning things up as I went. All of a sudden, there was a crack that came underneath me. I jumped and noticed I was stepping on a blue blanket. I pulled on it and draped it over my shoulder. Underneath it was a picture frame. I had cracked the glass but the picture was still intact.
I picked it up and blew off the dust. The picture was of Harry, his father and his mother. Harry, as a baby, was sitting on the floor; a snitch was flying around his head while his outstretched hands were trying to catch it. His father was beaming at him proudly while his mother was watching lovingly at him.
I jumped. I hadn't noticed that Harry was standing right beside me.
"Sorry," He said, grinning.
I placed a hand on my chest. "It's okay." I replied. I looked back at the moving picture. Harry's arms encircled my waist and he placed his chin on my shoulder. And in silence, we watched the picture replay over and over.
"Natural-born Seeker." I observed as the picture-Harry caught the snitch.
Harry laughed. "Yeah, I guess." He let go of me and I gave him the picture. Sighing, he removed the picture, folded it in half and stuffed into his back pocket.
I cocked my head to the side at him and then I undusted the blue blanket that was still resting on my shoulder. Harry turned to me.
"I think," I said, draping it around his shoulders, "this is rightfully belongs to you." I knotted it in the front and giggled at his caped appearance.
He smiled at me in a way he never had before. "Yeah," He murmured.
I stroked his cheek. "We'll get through this, Harry," I stated, firmly.
He nodded. "I know."
"Let's get some sleep." I said, starting my way out of the room only to be stopped by Harry.
"Can—can I stay with you?" He asked.
I nodded and took his hand. "Let's go."
Before long, we were both lying on the queen-sized bed, facing each other.
"You know," Harry started, "Before I kill Voldemort, I'm gonna kill Dolohov."
I frowned. "Whatever for, Harry? He can just go to Azkaban."
"You remember our fifth year, right? Remember when he hit you? I can't even remember being so angry before. I yelled and tried to go after him. But I couldn't. Then—then I started getting nightmares. You would fall over and over again. Sometimes, you would even slip through the veil."
I felt tears push their way out and they slid down. "Harry,"
"I just—I reckon that if Ron died, I'd be like I was with Sirius. I'd get mad and depressed. But with you, Hermione, it would be different. A part of me would die if you did. I'd never be the same." He said. His voice was cracking with emotion and there were tears in his eyes.
"Oh Harry," I murmured. I leaned forward and kissed his scar, lingering for as long as I could.
"I'm not going to leave you. Ever." I said, cupping his thin, pale face.
"You can't be sure of that, what if—what if Voldemort kills you?" He asked.
"That will never happen. I promise."
He nodded. Then a wave of exhaustion came over him for his eyes had begun to droop.
"Hermione…" He whispered.
Unconsciously, we leaned forward. My lips bumped his and we were kissing, our tears mingled with one another. After a while, Harry pulled back.
"Shh," He said, rubbing his thumb over my lips. "Sleep,"
I nodded, not wanting to argue. Soon enough, sleep overcame us.
The next day things got awkward. When I woke up this morning, Harry was still asleep, looking strangely at peace. He had a peaceful aura that I hadn't seen in a long time. I slowly got out of the bed, not wanting to wake him. I took a quick shower and dressed. After, I left and bought food for us to eat. When Harry woke up, I was already setting the food on the dining table. During breakfast, we were silent, the only sounds were our cutlery hitting against the old china plates.
It was only while I was cleaning the plates did something happen. I decided to wash it "the Muggle way" to buy some time. Harry was still sitting by the table; his head facing down and his bangs were hanging down in front of his face. There was a tense silence in the air.
"So. About last night—"
The glass I was washing dropped from my hands and crashed into the metal sink, breaking into pieces. I hastily picked them up, accidentally scratching myself with it. I winced but said nothing.
"Does it hurt?"
I jumped slightly. Harry had gotten behind me in a flash.
"Er—yeah, I'm fine." I said, picking the pieces up with Harry.
We were silent again and everything was awkward. After we threw the shards of glass away, I continued washing the dishes, not paying attention to the stinging pain in my left hand.
"Last night," said Harry, "we kissed."
I turned to him and nodded in acknowledgement. "I know," replied I.
"It was an—"
"Don't, Harry," I interrupted tersely, "Don't say it was an accident. You and I both know it was anything but that."
He looked at me with a strange expression. "Then what was it?" He asked.
"It—it was convenient."
"Convenient?" He asked.
I nodded and turned back in the direction of the sink, continuing with the dishes. "Yes, convenient. We both needed to be comforted. And it just so happened that we were with each other. You could've done it with anyone. Like Cho… or—or Ginny."
"So. It didn't mean anything?"
"Of course it meant something," said I, "it showed how close we are. It was just a kiss between friends."
"Oh." His tone sounded clipped and mildly disappointed.
"It's nothing to worry about, Harry."
"I know," said Harry sounding rather tense, "if you need me, I'll be up in my old room."
I heard his chair drag and his feet leave the room.
I thought I had solved everything. But I had made things worse. It is time I stop writing. Harry should be back soon.
Hermione Jane Granger