The Depraved Secret Journal of Hermione Granger

A/N: I know, yet another diary fanfic, and worse still, yet another one where Harry discovers and reads it… but I couldn't resist, I love those.

It won't be too long, the chapters either, I've got other stuff to do, and it also won't be updated too quickly. However, don't let this worry you; I said that about Aftermath didn't I? It's just that this fun little plot bunny came at me some weeks aback and really wouldn't go away. And it's not likely to end the way you may think it will.

Please do read, and review, it always makes me smile when you do.

Disclaimer: That word in the title alone should tell you that this is not mine. JK Rowling's books are mostly for children, my imagination is not.

The Depraved Secret Journal of Hermione Granger

~*~*~*~

He knew he shouldn't. He really knew he shouldn't. But it was lying there open on the table calling his name. What reasonable, rational minded individual wouldn't pick it up?

And yes, he had had bad experiences with books of this nature before. One had actually almost gotten him killed in Second Year as a matter of fact.

But it was just lying there open on the table calling his name.

A small, red, neat leather-bound book amidst the usual clutter of this table in the living room of Grimmauld Place just dying to be taken and perused in dark corners before the owner came back.

He had to pick it up.

He should have stopped at the name then.

Scribbled neatly, at the top of the first page followed by her address, which he made a mental note to remember, were three words.

“Hermione Jane Granger”

This was the property of a friend, and not just anyone either, it was Hermione.

She had been one of his best friends since his First Year at Hogwarts, with lots of brown bushy hair and a pair of the brightest brown eyes he had ever seen. She knew all his secrets, didn't mind all his faults, had been looking out for him since First Year in fact… she was… a great friend.

He wouldn't read anything out of this book that he didn't already know.

So he should have stopped then and put the book down. But his hand had pulled the paper and he just had to lift the page a bit to smoothen it and then it got away from him.

The date of the first entry on the second page of this obviously in-use book should have now been his cue to drop it and walk away. But he didn't.

It was from some months earlier, “19^th September, 1997”, her birthday, and it was a short entry.

It was too short to be anything but something innocent. Nothing too personal, nothing that would irrevocably ruin their friendship if she caught him and nothing that he could not lie his way out of knowing later if he foolishly mentioned something from it.

With one last look around, caution was thrown to the wind and he read:

“Dear Diary Entry One

Had to change that, I'm eighteen not eight. Anyway, decided to keep diary journal. Gift from Mum, since am going away to war (though she doesn't know that… yet) will keep so that in the event of my untimely demise she will know what I was up to. It will be a terrible shock yes, but she will understand.

And besides, if anything happens to me before this is over, am planning to enchant so that Ron and Harry will also be well advised.

Hope Harry doesn't destroy it.

Will leave note then, explaining everything and hope they read it.

Now what else should I put in here?

Oh yeah, today is birthday, got presents, (sugarless sweets, clothes and this book from Mum and Dad, another perfume from Ron- will give to Ginny- and book by famous Arithmancy theorist from Harry- will read when finished here) got a cake, (Harry made it, or maybe Mrs Weasley, not sure, it was good though) and was “serenaded” with Happy Birthday.

Memo to self never let them sing again. I'm no Celestina Warbeck but I can carry a tune.

Nothing else of interest, not even talk of Voldemort. Harry's doing no doubt… or Ron's… eh, one of them.

End Entry, Hermione”

There, nothing serious or damaging.

No deep revelations, no secret confessions, nothing that he should not know of any kind.

He ran a hand absently through his messy black hair and took a casual look around, though without making an attempt to put the book down yet.

Well, if he ignored the bit about giving away Ron's gift. And about her parents not knowing where she was. And that she didn't like their singing. He wasn't that bad.

But then, what did he really expect from Hermione's journal. They practically shared everything with each other since they began the Horcrux hunt just after his birthday earlier that year. Like he had thought before, whatever he read in here would be mostly nothing new.

And he had seen her cringe at their singing at her birthday; he had just taken it then to be embarrassment at having much of the Order singing for her too.

Okay, now he could put it away.

There was absolutely no need to look down at that second entry lower down on the page.

Really, there wasn't.

But then, exactly what reason would Hermione Granger have for using the word “randy”?

“22^nd September, 1997,

Entry Two

I despise being a girl.

Okay, not really, but at a certain time of every month of every year until I'm fifty I do. Can you believe that in the middle of a war of all times this is happening? And it's not helping The Plan or The Situation any.

You don't know of either, will tell of later, but to the matter at hand, it's not helping because I'm kind of… well, as Parvati and Lavender would put it, “randy”. I can't sit in the same room with him now and not have my mind fill with the strangest of things. Mental images that I doubt are even possible are still coming to mind even as I write this and am presently alone.

I'm very sure that those two gossip queens are behind this. You live with them long enough and you start thinking like them.

But then, I shouldn't really feel that guilty about it. I mean, after all, I am eighteen, practically a woman, and women do have those thoughts. I'm sure on average they have lots of those thoughts every day. It's just that they're amplified at this time with hormones and everything.

Then again, considering the fact that I actually had to have a cold shower and go to bed early last night, I'm thinking this may just be me.

Wonderful, I'm randy.

And did I mention also a witch capable of making him rather “easily swayed”. At one point I was actually beginning to think of charms and hexes that could be of use. I even noted a few in the back of my brand new birthday present, and I'm not one for desecrating books.

Or for that matter, desecrating him, no matter how tempting.

Okay, must end this entry now, I've just started this journal (the first page!) and depraved thoughts are threatening a hostile take-over. Harry and Ron will just have to make do with another book for advice. They definitely cannot see this one, and especially not HIM.

End Entry, Hermione”

Yep, he was right the first time. He should just put this book down and walk away. Clearly there were some things in here that he shouldn't be reading anymore, and he no longer really cared in what context Hermione used any words that came to mind in future.

He didn't care that her… well… he didn't want to think about it… but her… um… period… was making her randy.

He didn't care that she had capitalised and underlined the words “plan” and “situation” as if it were the heading of something important.

He didn't care that she had also underlined the word “him” in reference to some unknown person he desperately wanted to know the identity of.

He didn't even care that she was having somewhat unsettling romantic, or maybe the word should be “lustful”, thoughts about that person.

This had all happened months ago.

So if he flipped down to a later entry, say maybe two weeks ago, this would all be much different.

He ran his hand through his hair again and actually leaned a little towards the door looking out for signs of other life. He had no idea where the others were, and the Marauders Map was useless out of Hogwarts… not that he needed it right now of course. He had just accidentally stumbled upon this book, honest.

She had just left the book out there opened on the table where anyone could read it. Including Ron her boyfriend, who definitely did not need to know that she was thinking about other men. Or one of the Order, or especially Mrs Weasley who would not take it well.

She had to consider herself rather lucky that he was an understanding individual who would keep her secrets. And once he found out what this “plan” and “situation” was in relation to this “him”, he would be in an even better position to even offer assistance if she needed it.

So moving down a bit in the book, averaging what two weeks ago would be, and with consideration to the fact that her entries had gotten longer as she got more relaxed into keeping the journal, he selected a random entry and ploughed in.

~*~*~*~

A/N: I see a problem here, Hermione seems a bit OOC… oh dear. Be nice, please. :D

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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.

~*~*~*~

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 27^th 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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A/N: May not be as funny as the last two… was having too much fun re-reading select parts of Book 5 and the rare few in 6… but I tried. Sorry this took so long but I'm currently away from internet due to phone-hog younger brother. Will update again as soon as I can.

BIG thank you to everyone, can't reply all at once due to aforementioned problem, but I thank and appreciate all… including that odd Anonymous one that was just letters.

Disclaimer: Not mine.

~*~*~*~

Plopping down unto the bed so that he faced the door, Harry discarded the other junk he had collected and immediately flipped open the journal trying to find an entry that pre-dated the one he had last read.

Okay, so it was more “eagerly” flipped open (he nearly tore a page), but he needed to find the “plan” and the “situation”, not read the usual female griping stuff.

Reading about her… um… her um… period (he shuddered) was squicky enough the first time.

Long gone, of course, was whatever sense of moral dignity he had ever had prior to discovering this journal.

Not that it bothered him though.

This was for a good cause after all, and as long as he kept telling himself that his conscious was clear.

Crystal.

Finally, he found one that looked promising.

“30^th September, 1997

Entry Seven

Kreacher is missing, looking for Slytherin's locket, and noticed clothes a bit loose. Possibly am losing weight.

Not that he would notice.

The prat Ron seems to take pleasure in pointing it out though.

(“Hey Hermione any smaller and you could fit into Dobby's toga!”)

The bloody stupid sodding idiotic git, I'll fit him into Dobby's toga.

Ahem, yes, still a little… testy from… hell there… I hate hormones.

Would be worse if I was pregnant though… but not with his baby.

It would be so cute. His green eyes and my hair… or maybe not our hair but you get the picture. Oh the possibilities….

I digress.

I should be grateful to his lack of attentiveness though. The relative failure of The Plan: Part One was barely noticed thanks to it. It did not improve The Situation, but it did allow me time for the introduction of The Plan: Part Two, of which am most proud.

It is mostly flawless. Even the daftest of gits or Hufflepuffs could figure it out.

Hmm, sounded like Malfoy there… probably channelling him….

Not that I believe any of THAT though.

Bloody nutter Trelawney, absolutely mental and Dumbledore actually allowed her TEACH. I dare say someone got into the mead a little too often.

Oh dear… yep… still testy.

Anyway, the prat Ron should have been in Hufflepuff.

Of course they would have kicked him out, too stupid for even that house.

Ha-ha.

I digress.

Mother, if you are somehow reading this in a future where I am not, I beg posthumous forgiveness for allowing myself to get into The Situation.

I should have known better.

When friends are male, and you a female, sadly, you may eventually have strange, wonderful, mischievous, dirty, “overly friendly” thoughts about one of them someday.

I just never expected that someday to be today and that friend to be him.

I mean, we've been friends for a long time, since First Year in fact. We've shared a lot, (a LOT in my dreams especially), we've practically done everything together and that's not likely to change soon.

The only thing left then would be to snog each other. Repeatedly… in a dark room… or probably against a wall… or in the library… oh yes, the library, the school library just where Madam Pince could come in or maybe… I have such a depraved, dirty mind.

The only thing left then would be to…

Okay so I have nothing.

I want to snog him SO badly. And do a few other things too. A lot of other things too, and especially prominently featuring a bit of some of those books I read in Mrs Black's room that stuff from my dreams.

Of course we can't.

He likes her, they're going to be a couple forever and I will be stuck with the prat Ron.

Oh joy.

So The Situation remains that I am hopelessly in love with I like him and he doesn't know a thing. The Plan: Part One then followed that I would stick with the prat Ron as he liked me.

He seemed to have forgotten that last year.

Thankfully, The Plan: Part Two doesn't involve him. It's best we remain friends otherwise. For the sake of sanity and all that is good in the world, we best remain friends.

End Entry, Hermione”

There was only one thought that came clearly as he stared at the pages of the book then.

Who was this person and where was Hermione Granger?

When had his sweet, innocent best friend turned into this minx?

Poor Ron, poor “him” whoever that bloke was, and poor all of them, the world had gone mad.

He was too saddened to read more.

He had seen enough and it completely convinced him that as soon as they could Hermione was going to a psychiatrist.

Now he could go back down, put the book back on the table and pretend that he never saw it….

But then again… months ago, water under the bridge and whatever. She was different now, back to her usual Hermione-ish self, busy helping them find Horcruxes and meeting with the Order and… oh gods what was his name doing in there?

“31^st October, 1997,

Entry Sixteen

Am currently intoxicad… intoxie… pissed. Won-Won was rite, friar-whiskey is GREAT!!! Can barely hold quill, or sphell, witch is funny, because am much smarter than him. Anyway, I WANNA SNOG HARRY! NOW, NOW, NOW, RIGHT NOW, JUST SNOG HIM ALL NIGHT AND STUFF! AND THEN TELL GINNY ABOUT IT TOMORROW AND LAUGH ALL DAY BECUZ I SNOGGED HARRY! He is very hand… cute, tonite. Nice shirt, I BOUGHT IT for his birthday and he is wearing it tonight. And his eyes, so bright, I wonder if he ever had firewhiskey. Will get him some for his next birthday, then we can drink firewhiskey together. Too young now though. Too bad, but I WANNA SNOG HARRY! Mum will be very upset about friar-whiskey. I think snogged Ron though. Ewwwwwwwwwwwww!!!!!!!!!!!

But Harry spit up on Ginny! Ha! Like a baby, all over her shirt! Ha-ha! Ha! My baby, all over her shirt! Ha!

End Enter, Exit, Sighned… whatever, Her-my-oh-ninny

EDIT: Must destroy this page. Will never again drink firewhiskey, still suffering from hangover, and the above especially indicates another side effect.

Never again accept ANYTHING from Fred or George Weasley either.

Will jinx their Christmas presents maybe.

Hermione”

Oh, that explained that.

Poor, poor Hermione, the stress was clearly getting to her.

“Serves you right for drinking!” he admonished the book, but he had to admit he was worried.

This behaviour was certainly unbecoming of Hermione. And it was not improving. They were getting closer and closer to the present and he was yet to find an entry that had a normal recount of the day's events.

Not that he was actually reading this book.

These were merely casual… okay who was he trying to kid?

He was reading and he was worried.

Very worried… and curious, very curious.

Everything so far dealt with strange plans, odd situations and some “him”, and now there was firewhiskey and strange thoughts of kissing him.

Not that he would mind it too much if she kissed him.

She already had, and twice in fact, on the cheeks.

Until she was better though, for she certainly wasn't well from what he could read here, she would have to contain those moments to her naughty journal.

Not that he wanted her to write about him in here.

A mention once or twice would do, but no long paragraphs were necessary… just mildly desirable.

And then suddenly the door to the room began to open and Harry shoved the journal under a pillow… just as Ron entered.

“Hey mate, Hermione's looking for a book, have you seen a red leather book that kind… hey! That's it!” he exclaimed.

Unfortunately Harry had not stuck it properly under the pillow and it now slipped out unto the floor.

Perfect, he had been caught out for the shameless peeping Harry that he was.

There was only one option then, deny, deny, deny.

“Say… what's that doing there?” he said with his best shocked look.

Ron refused to bite.

“Harry… I don't think that's a good idea… if Hermione catches you… she'll kill you!” he told him.

Well that was a short-lived attempt.

“No she won't!” he protested, “And besides, it's for you!”

“W-what?” sputtered Ron, shocked and confused.

“I don't know how to tell you this,” began Harry, trying his best to be sympathetic, “but I think she's been… she was… she cheated on you.”

To his surprise then, Ron burst out laughing.

Harry stood there looking at him, eyebrow raised, eyes darting about searching for some evil wizard who must have come in and jinxed him.

The laughter went on though, unimpeded, for a full five minutes until Harry's concern faded into annoyance and he began, “Ron…”

Ron recovered at once, tears in his eyes and said, “Hermione… Hermione cheated… on me?”

And then he burst out laughing again.

Harry narrowed his eyes, “It's all right here in this book… she wrote how much you're a prat and an idiot and that she keeps thinking about this other bloke with bad hair and green eyes… seen anyone like that in the Order?”

Ron stopped his laughter then and just stared at him with an incredulous look on his face.

Harry though, continued oblivious to this, “I mean… it's not like it bothers me if you find this funny, but this is bad behaviour, we have to make sure that she doesn't do it to some other bloke… I mean… you should read some of the things she wrote here…”

Harry presented the book to him with the page, but when Ron took it he coshed him instead.

“You bloody idiot!” he told the now stunned Harry, threw the book back at him and walked out of the room muttering to himself and shaking his head sadly.

Harry blinked a few times, put his hand to his head and said to the door, “That's the last time I try to help you!”

~*~*~*~

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A/N: Almost prematurely, alas we have come to the end of our little tale. I hope you like it. It drove me mad trying to write.

Thank you to all who've reviewed.

Disclaimer: Ha-ha, rub it in that's not mine, rub it in. You'll get yours Beni, you'll get yours! *ahem* Sorry, wrong fandom.

~*~*~*~

Harry was once more happily flipping (it was actually “happily”, there was a smile on his face) through the pages of the journal when something hit him.

“Hey mate, Hermione's looking for a book, have you seen a red leather book that kind…”

Oh. No.

She was looking for it.

She had missed it.

She might even begin to suspect.

She would know.

She could know, and even now, while he was up here in this room secretly reading through it.

And Ron… just to spite him for whatever reason he had been laughing and then hit him before.

He could tell her.

He could be telling her right now.

Oh. No.

He had to get out of here, and he had to do it fast.

Shoving the book into the back of his jeans and covering it over with his jumper, he started for the door.

He would go to another room. Someplace they would never suspect. Someplace they would never believe he would go to. There was only one place.

He didn't like to do it, but under the circumstances he was sure that it would be forgiven. And besides, Sirius surely must have read through one of his cousins' journals while they were growing up.

Of course, that was debatable.

Who would actually want to read the diary of a teenaged Bellatrix?

That would have left one scarred for life if not on the verge of madness.

He had to shudder at that thought right then.

Brushing it off quickly, Harry cautiously opened the door of the room, peered about, and then stole out of it to the landing and the stairs to the third floor. His heart skipped a beat with every creak and groan of the floor or stair. His breath caught in his throat as he came upon the room and then as the door rather loudly opened to admit him. He felt a cold sweat on his brow and trickling down his back as he spotted the vacant bed and the door shut behind him to what now felt a tremendously empty room.

He should not be here.

He really should not be here.

And apparently all this was no longer for Ron because he had laughed and then hit him and called him a “bloody idiot”.

Ergo he had no reason for being in here.

But… this journal was showing him an all new side of Hermione.

A very dark, very frank, very- and now that he was no longer doing this for Ron- very intriguing Hermione.

He wanted to read more.

Guilt trip be damned!

Taking a deep breath and a shaky laugh at his stupid anxiety, Harry threw himself unto Sirius' bed, unsettling a layer of dust that made him choke slightly, which ended all laughter immediately, and then reopened the journal to the latest entry he could find.

“November 11^th, 1997

Entry Twenty-Seven

Have noticed disturbing pattern developing, am having trouble keeping track of journal in house.

Not good.

Ron has already discovered it, twice.

Caught him reading once, he did not sit properly for two days after.

Of course, this means that he could find it too.

Also not good, and as a matter of fact, that would be bad… very, very bad.

But then he may just return it.

Too noble to read it through like Ron was doing and even if he did would not be able to hex him.

Love like him too much.

Then again… if I just left it lying around… maybe he would find it… not that I want him to of course… but maybe he would. He may even read it, get a clue and confess his undying love and devotion and maybe want to snog and maybe want to talk about it a while.

Then we could snog.

This is going to be a long winter.

End Entry, Hermione

EDIT: Correction. This is going to be a very long winter. Spied him emerging from bath IN ONLY TOWEL and have found self immediately wanting a bath as well. Preferably with him, and candles, and… I'm definitely randy and it's not hell time yet. Must have very, icy, freezing bath right now or may “jump” him.

And Hermione Granger does not “jump” anyone.

But she definitely, absolutely, very much right now wants to “jump” him.

Oh gods.

This shall be a very, very, VERY long winter.”

That was just yesterday.

Yesterday!

She wanted to… do that… to someone… that bloke… just yesterday!

And the poor girl had been so affected by this mindless fool that she was still there when he came out of the shower after.

Forget the psychiatrist, he was going to sit her down and have a very long talk with her himself.

As soon as he returned and hid journal and pretended Ron told him.

No need to get hexed.

Ron was used to it, he wasn't.

But before he did that… just one more entry for the r….

With a loud, low querulous groan, the door to Sirius' room opened and before Harry had time to react, in walked the journal's owner. And what was more, she was smiling at him.

She just walked right in, looked right at him, and smiled!

And he was still holding her book!

“To think I thought you were too noble for something like this,” she said with a sigh.

He was very sure he detected exasperation within that amusement.

Oh, this was going to be bad.

Very, very bad.

He tried to say something, explain his way out of it, while getting off the bed, behind a pillow or some barrier. He had been caught and if he wanted to live, he had best escape.

And Hermione just kept smiling at him.

“Listen… Hermione… this… this isn't what it looks like…” he began, quickly dropping the book unto the bed and pushing it to her.

She picked it up, looked it over a moment, casually flicked it aside, and then began to crawl up unto the bed with him.

Oh gods, she was going to kill him with her bare hands!

Harry tried to scramble away from her, but then couldn't. There was something about the way she was coming at him. The way her eyes looked, there was something… feral… in their shine. Her smile looked… mischievous, impish, and naughty… if he thought about it. And then those strides, those determined strides over the bed to him where he fell flat on his back as she came up to straddle him and before he knew it….

Oh… she… she wanted to… to kiss him….

All coherent thought, along with his fear, flew right out the window. And once his tongue had breached her mouth, so did much of his restraint for he soon reversed their positions so that he was above her, pinning her beneath him while he dared his hands to explore parts of his best friend he normally wouldn't.

After what felt like many sunlight days after he had determined her thoroughly kissed, and his need for air surpassed his testosterone, he broke the kiss and found himself staring into her desire-darkened eyes and they both uttered a nervous little laugh.

The way her eyes lit up then almost made him want to nip at her now swollen lips.

However, he was halted when she whispered, still with that mischievous look, “It's about time!”

He froze and looked down at her confused, “What?”

Did he miss something here?

Rewind.

He found a journal, read the journal, stole the journal, read the journal, told Ron about the journal, read the journal, she came in here and found him with it… kissed him… what was missing?

“Oh… oh… is this…” and his throat clenched here, “Is this about that bloke you kept mentioning… because… if this… if this is some kind of rebound… I mean… I wouldn't want you to kiss me just because he rejected you. I mean, not that anyone would reject you… I mean…”

Hermione didn't give him time to figure it out though. Rolling her eyes, with a slight shake of her head and giving an exasperated sigh, she said, “Okay, forget it and just shut up and kiss me and I'll explain later.”

Harry considered this a while, looked down at her again, and again still with that mischievous look and smiled, “Oh, okay.”

And they kissed happily ever after.

Until they needed air again and Hermione finally had time to explain to the daft git Harry who she was talking about whereby it finally dawned on him and she too hit him with the journal for being a bloody idiot and then they kissed happily ever after, the end.

Fin.

PS: Ron peering from the doorway at two whispered sadly, “We, fools who love… I thought he'd never find that diary. Please come up with something simpler the next time you want to tell him something, Hermione, he was driving me starkers!”

And then he slipped quietly away pondering the possibility of a late night trip to school for a date with a girl about snogs Crumple-Horned Snorkacks.

Voldemort be damned!

Really, fin.

~*~*~*~

A/N: So, what do you think?

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