A/N: Hi there, I'm early with this aren't I? Oh well… um… more from Hermione's mind… and Harry's… enjoy. :D
BTW, very big THANKS to everyone who reviewed! *huggles all*
Disclaimer: As before, ain't mine, JKR would never write this. I think.
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Hermione though, had apparently been rather erratic in the keeping of this journal. As a matter of fact, what he thought would take him closer to the present, actually only got him as far as a month after her birthday, the 27th of October to be exact.
"Entry Fifteen
Am having problems maintaining journal, too busy and whatever, will try to fix. Anyway, have come this far and now realise that most of earlier pages were filled with general or highly immoral thoughts about him and not enough about me. He has already invaded everything else in my life, including a few dreams- will tell of later- so this is not new. However, if mother is ever sent this journal I should have a little more than this.
Hmm… hair is still disobedient, but unlike his at most times where my hands just itch to run through them… um, yeah, hair is still disobedient. Lost a stone, legs look a bit like sticks I'm sure, and face a bit drawn. Not good combination with disobedient hair. Diet is okay, teeth fine, need some sleep, and less dreams of him.
I used to think that only boys had those kinds of dreams, actually overheard a few of Ron's- not pleasant, don't ask, didn't even involve me… wait, that's good…- but apparently girls have them too. Last night's was particularly interesting; he featured prominently and barely… I digress.
Today found Slytherin's locket, Kreacher had it, poor thing. Nobody knows how he died, if I ask the stupid idiot Ron he'll get into one of his rants about him being evil and "good riddance".
Harry won't say either, but he did at least have the decency to look a little embarrassed.
Suspect foul play.
Otherwise, we're all fine, we just miss our families, though can't really say that for Ron since the Order are mostly staying here, and his parents are in the Order.
Of course I miss my parents very much sometimes too, but they would certainly panic if they found out about this… can't have that now can we.
Harry… well Harry doesn't have anyone to miss, but I guess Dumbledore, and Sirius, and Hogwarts, and peace and quiet, and maybe the Demons Dursleys.
And Ginny, most likely Ginny, she was his girlfriend after all.
And I understand and am not at all bothered by this because I know they'll get back…
Well must end this entry here, Ron wants something.
I wish he could be more like him.
He doesn't ask for much. He is a good person with a lot of responsibility and needs all the help he can get. He doesn't get petty and jealous over every little thing. He deserves better than this.
I wish I could give it to him.
She will just have to do and I am NOT jealous.
Such thoughts led to The Situation which is why I am on The Plan, as mentioned before.
Stupid idiot Ron is calling again.
End Entry, Hermione
P.S. Have noticed randy-ness is going nowhere. Must have something to do with living in close proximity to him now, this is not good. Not good at all."
Harry felt sorry for Ron, genuinely sorry.
If only he knew the things his girlfriend thought of him. The names she called him. That her thoughts were preoccupied with thoughts of someone other than him and she couldn't stop them.
Not to mention that this lecherous person also happened to be living there at Grimmauld Place with them. The nerve!
But where on earth did Hermione get the idea that she was skinny or drawn? Last time he checked, that morning at breakfast to be exact, there was absolutely nothing different. She actually looked rather radiant.
And he was quite sure she had giggled rather girlishly (something that should never be in the same sentence with Hermione usually) when they were joking then just before Ron came in.
Wherever was she getting these ludicrous ideas?
But of course, this was still months ago, Hermione surely didn't think the same way now. A lot had happened since then, and especially at Hallowe'en in the Burrow a few days after this where he had seen them kiss.
Well, it was more of "spied", but he saw it and it confirmed their relationship and he was quite happy for them.
Really, he was.
His expulsion of the cheesecake dessert all over Ginny's shirt was simply from the shock.
Really, that's all.
There wasn't even a stain and she didn't even flinch.
So now he could just put this book down right there and pretend that he never saw it.
But… if he wanted to be a good friend, a really good friend to them both, and Ron especially- who he, again, felt genuinely sorry for- he had to find out what the "plan" and the "situation" was and make sure that Hermione no longer thought about this "him", whoever he was.
If she did, then he would have to speak with her.
And also about those dreams she had been having.
He preferred that she didn't have them.
He would have to research a dreamless-sleep potion to make sure she didn't.
Somehow, without alluding to the fact that he had read her journal.
Of course, he also couldn't continue to read this in here though. There were noises in the hall now and at any given moment someone could come in and find him.
And no, the fear of being caught did not make him some kind of criminal.
She had left the journal there on the table in the open where anyone could find it and he just happened to be the one that did.
All it meant was that he had to find some other place to read it.
This living room though, was rather short on dark corners.
There were suddenly close footfalls in the hall. Harry dropped the book back unto the table at once and fell onto the sofa, trying his best to look very innocent, just as the devil herself walked into the room.
"Hey Harry," she said absently as she came in.
"Hi Hermione," he chirped back.
She quirked an eyebrow then, giving him a definite suspicious stare that usually only went to Ron, before continuing to the table where the book lay.
Oh no.
Oh no, he couldn't let her take the book.
He still didn't know what the "plan" was. He didn't understand the "situation". He didn't know anything about this "him" person!
She couldn't just come here and take the book!
Well, okay, maybe she could, it was hers.
But she couldn't take it before he was finished reading it without her knowledge and permission!
Thinking quickly and ignoring that little voice insisting that he just let it go, that he had already read too much and that Hermione would hex off some important part of his anatomy, he decided on a brazen move.
On the pretence of going up to study, or probably to take a nap (yeah, a nap) he would gather some books from the table, the journal among them, and run out of the room.
She would never know.
Hermione was drawing closer, eyes already falling onto the table and the book with it. He had to wonder then how she could appear so innocent even after all the things he now knew ran through her mind on a daily basis.
Streaks of light giving her dark hair a slight honeyed halo-ish glow, brown eyes touched with miniscule flecks of gold, and dressed primly in a woollen, khaki-coloured jumper and dark blue jeans, she looked the picture of an innocent swot. But oh, behind those eyes, he could almost see the naughty, carnal images swirling in their depths.
The silly, randy bint, if she thought she was getting away with this she was sorely mistaken.
With moments to spare Harry rose and dove at the table, wildly scattering papers and gathering up books while saying quickly, "I… well… I'm going to bed… really tired now… long day… and stuff… goodnight Hermione!"
He didn't wait for her reply, ("But its mid-afternoon!") to see her confused expression, or catch the sigh that escaped as he vanished through the doorway. He barely stopped to avoid the troll-leg umbrella stand that could set off Mrs Black's painting and wake the house. He didn't even turn around properly until he was up and safely locked away in a bedroom on one of the upper floors. And then, and only then, did he stop to give a sigh of relief.
He had made it, he was safe, and his ill-gained reading material was now easy picking.
He was brilliant.
And what was more, again, she would never know.
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