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I'm Not Neurotic! The Diary of Hermione Granger by Hermione_Crookshanks
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I'm Not Neurotic! The Diary of Hermione Granger

Hermione_Crookshanks

Well, this story is coming to an end, although I'm not sure in how many chapters.

Thank you for your continued support, and I hope you enjoy it.

Oh, and before anyone asks, YES, H/Hr will happen...but not until the end.

I know. Dragging it out is very cruel...but then I get to do my evil laugh. MUAHAHAHAHA. See? Evil laugh. It's very fun. I definitely suggest that you try one.

Keep in mind that the temperature is in Celsius. Fahrenheit it would be around 27 degrees. And yes, I do poke fun at the dress Hermione wore in the GoF movie. I'm sure I'm not alone when I say that thing was just horrific...although I also know some of you liked it, and if you're one of those who did, please don't be offended.

Now on to the chapter.

*****

November 9,

I honestly don't know how on earth our (that is Harry and my) breakups were kept secret for so long - two full days. That's amazing considering the most "gossipy" girls in the school are not only in my grade, but also in my house.

As usual, I knew nothing about the rumors flying about, but luckily for me (or maybe unluckily), Ginny came running into my room, catching me up.

Apparently she's all ready to help me again now that I'm no longer deemed a "hopeless case."

To which my only response is, "Thanks, Gin. Thanks so much."

*****

"OH MY GOD!"

Ginny's scream alerted me of her presence seconds before she burst into my room. She had obviously ran a great distance, as she was clutching at a stitch on her side, panting deeply, and her usually perfect red hair was strewn this way and that.

"What on earth is the matter with you?" I asked Ginny, completely shocked by her appearance. Yes, I was entirely aware that Ginny was nowhere close to shallow, but for her to be in such disarray, to look as if she had just survived some sort of natural disaster…it just wasn't Ginny-like.

I got up from my desk immediately, setting down my quill that I had been using to write an essay for Transfiguration on why "transfiguring one's self into another identity is impossible." I had just been in the middle of my analysis of polyjuice potion, which was critical to my thesis.

I approached Ginny, who by now was breathing regularly. Unfortunately this meant that she now had breath to yell at me.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Ginny demanded, poking me slightly in the shoulder.

"Hey!" I exclaimed, swatting at her hand. "Don't do that!"

Ginny simply glared at me in response. I decided to take that as a tentative, "Okay."

"Anyway," I continued, "why didn't I tell you what?"

"That you broke up with Terry and Harry broke up with Parvati two, count them, two days ago!" Ginny let out a frustrated scream as she finished the sentence. She was clearly rather peeved at me.

I gave a pathetic little shrug. "I didn't realize it was so important. And since when are you involved with this anyway? I thought you were sick of me."

Ginny threw up her hands. "It's different now that you actually have a chance, you git!"

"Now that I actually have a chance?" I repeated slowly.

"Yes," Ginny said, nodding her head fervently.

"Why thank you, Ginevra," I replied sarcastically, rolling my eyes slightly. "That makes me feel loads better!"

"First of all, I believe I made it clear that under no circumstances was I to be referred to as `Ginevra,'" Ginny instructed me.

"You sound like a textbook," I interjected.

"Well it can't always be you," Ginny countered. "Second, you took what I said completely wrong."

"Did I?" I asked her; slightly amused that she was challenging me.

"Yes," Ginny sighed, frustrated. "What I meant to say is that before you didn't have a chance with him."

"Gin," I replied with a small sarcastic laugh, "I'm pretty sure the reason why I was so insulted is because I did take it that way."

"Oh." Ginny was silent for a second. "Right. Sorry."

"Uh huh," I responded, walking away from Ginny and returning to my desk.

"Well, let me explain what I meant." Ginny approached me.

"This should be entertaining," I replied, while I straightened up some books.

"What I meant by you didn't have a chance with him before was that he was dating Parvati. You couldn't possibly be with him while he was taken."

"That is true," I admitted, turning around and leaving my organizing to later. "So…what are we going to do about this?"

"We?" Ginny asked, eyes growing wide.

"Yes, we," I repeated.

"You mean you're actually going to let me help this time?" Ginny squealed, jumping up and down as if it was Christmas.

"Yes," I sighed, wishing that Ginny didn't hang out with Lavender quite so often.

Ginny squealed again and then began an explanation of what we would do. "It's simple! I'll make you look so drop dead gorgeous that Harry will jump you at the dance!"

I raised an eyebrow at Ginny. "Are you kidding me?" I demanded of her. "That's just… mental."

"No! No! Listen!" Ginny continued, as eager as ever. "We'll put you in this simply gorgeous dress…let me summon the magazine that has it…accio Bewitching Fashion Magazine!" A second later a magazine flew into Ginny's hand, and she opened it, showing me a page of dresses. "You'll wear this one!" she proclaimed proudly, pointing at a very pink and very ruffly dress robe.

I could barely contain my laughter. "Ginny that would never work."

"And why not?" Ginny demanded huffily, throwing the magazine done.

"Because I refuse to wear anything so hideous," I informed her. "I already told you, I don't wear pink, and definitely not ruffles. Anyway, didn't Pansy Parkinson wear that to the Yule Ball?"

"Fine," Ginny sighed. Then she perked up. "I know!"

"Not again…"

"You could wear a yellow dress robe with duck slippers!"

I gaped at her and was finally able to muster a response. "You really are mental."

"No, no!" Ginny told me, "You see, it's the latest trend! I'm sure Harry would just love it."

"If any of your plans ever get Harry and me together," I told her, "I'll name our first child after you."

Ginny looked at me thoughtfully. "Really?"

I didn't respond but simply burst into fits of laughter.

"You know," Ginny continued, cutting off my hysterics, "you could just ask him to go with you."

"I suppose I could…" I responded hesitantly, nervously playing with the edge of my jumper at such a daring idea.

"Do it," Ginny ordered me. "Within this week."

"Or what?" I countered, surprised by Ginny's threatening tone of voice.

"Or someone else will," Ginny told me. "Harry isn't just some guy, Hermione. He's the `Boy-who-lived.' Not to mention the fact that he's rather good looking. If you don't think girls will be harping on him…there's only so long that he will be able to refuse. And then you're out of luck."

There was a huge moment of silence as Ginny's words set in my brain. I gulped.

"Right," I said nervously. "I'll ask him."

"Good," Ginny replied, now upbeat again. "So, are you going to name the kid Ginny or Ginevra? Personally I prefer Ginny, but that's just because I hate the name Ginevra."

"Oh, sod off."

*****

November 14

It sounds simple enough, right? Just ask Harry to the ball. No big deal.

Except, it is a big deal. Because how do I know that he'll say yes because he actually likes me the way Ginny insists he does? How do I know he won't just say yes because 1) I'm his best friend, 2) he feels sorry for me, 3) he has no one else to go with, or 4) he feels guilty for chasing away my boyfriend, the one guy who would've gone with me?

Exactly. I don't.

Which is why, five days later, I still was yet to ask Harry to accompany me to the ball celebrating the 1000th anniversary of Hogwarts.

And also why the plan didn't go quite the way Ginny and I planned.

In other words it failed completely.

*****

"Merlin's beard, just ask him already," Ginny hissed into my ear. The four of us, that is Harry, Ron, Ginny and myself, were in the Heads' common room. Harry and Ron were playing wizard's chess (great surprise there), and Ginny and I were curled up on the couch, a few feet away from them, enjoying the comfort and heat emanating from the fireplace. The temperature was back down to -3 degrees and snow was coming down so fast that if you were to look out the window, all you would see was white. "It's been five bloody days!"

"I can't ask him here," I whispered back urgently, eyeing Harry and Ron to insure that they were too busy for Harry to overhear my conversation with Ginny.

"And why not?" Ginny demanded, slightly glaring at me.

"Be-because Ron's here!" I sputtered.

"Oh, come off it, Hermione," Ginny exclaimed softly, rolling her eyes. "Ron wouldn't care if you asked Harry out now. I mean, for goodness sakes, he knows that you're madly in love with him."

"But the last thing Ron heard from me was that I was over Harry," I informed her quickly.

"Please," Ginny laughed lightly. "Even Ron can see that you were lying."

"Oh, do shut up," I whispered at her angrily. My eyes turned their attention to Harry, whose eyebrows where furrowed in concentration. Sighing, I told Ginny, "Fine, I'll ask him now, okay?"

"And about time, too," Ginny muttered.

"I heard that," I told her, then left the comfort of the couch to tap Harry on the shoulder.

"Uh huh," Harry answered, immersed in the game that he was unsurprisingly losing.

"Do you think I could have a word?" I asked him, talking so fast I was surprised he even heard me.

"Er, sure," Harry replied, looking up, and obviously wondering what on earth I needed to speak to him about.

He stood up, and while he did so Ron looked at me, raised his eyebrow, and mouthed, "The ball?"

I was about to respond, but Harry was looking at me again, and so I dragged him off to the corner. On our way there I saw Ginny and Ron exchange glances, smiling knowingly.

"What's going on?" Harry asked me once we had reached a place of moderate privacy.

Suddenly my throat became restricted and I felt as if I was going to be sick.

"I…that is…I wanted to ask…" I could feel my palms sweating as I clenched them tightly. Somehow I could recite a thousand pages from a textbook at moment's notice, but something as simple as, "Would you like to go to the ball with me?" couldn't find its way out of my big mouth.

"Yes?" Harry prompted.

"I…I…"

"Hermione, are you okay?" Harry asked worriedly. "Because you seem extremely nervous about something."

"Me? Nervous? Whatever gave you such an idea?" I exclaimed in a high-pitched voice, feeling as if I was choking on air.

Harry stared at me and I knew he thought I must have finally lost it.

Realizing that I needed to say something, anything, to stop this awkward moment, I burst out, "I need a chess piece!"

"A what?" Harry looked at me in surprise. He obviously hadn't expected such a question. Of course, I hadn't planned on asking him that, and I had no idea why I had. Now I was in a rut.

Good going Granger, a voice that sounded very much like my eleven-year-old self began to lecture me. Very smooth. Honestly. What's happened to you? Just two years ago you tricked a fully-grown witch to follow you into the Forbidden Forest, yet now you can't even come up with a valid reason for why you want to talk to your best friend. A chess piece… You make me sick.

"A…a chess piece," I repeated, once that voice in my head had stopped talking.

"Why on earth would you need a chess piece? And why did you have to drag me all the way here to ask me?" Harry questioned me.

"That's a good question," I replied, stalling for time. "I brought you here because I thought Ron might pull a, er, Ron, and make fun of me."

"For asking for a chess piece?"

"It is Ron…" I said lamely, already feeling horrid for using Ron.

"And why exactly do you need a chess piece?" Harry continued questioning me.

"I have a perfectly reasonable explanation for that!" I exclaimed eagerly.

"Would you care to share it with me?" Harry asked.

"Of course," I continued. "You see I need a chess piece…for…er…for Transfiguration homework!"

"Transfiguration homework?" Harry repeated, not believing a single word I was saying.

"That's it. I need to transfigure it into a…a…human for our next class." I immediately realized that I had made a huge mistake, and Harry did too.

"For one," Harry told me, staring at me suspiciously, "that wasn't our Transfiguration homework."

"Oh, well…" I had no explanation this time and simply trailed off, allowing Harry to continue with his interrogation.

"For two, you can't transfigure an item into a human. In fact, our Transfiguration homework was an essay proving just that."

"Exactly!" I exclaimed.

"Exactly what?"

"I'm using it for the essay," I explained quickly.

"But you just said- "

"I'm using the chess piece to prove that you can't transfigure a chess piece into a person," I interrupted Harry.

"But, it's a writing assignment," Harry said, looking utterly confused. "There's no demonstration needed."

"Well, I do need evidence. It's just an experiment," I informed Harry, very proud that my lying abilities were back to their normal standards. "I'm going to use the trials as proof."

"But why a chess piece?" Harry demanded. "I mean, can't you just use any old object lying around?"

Damn. He had gotten me there. Okay, so my lying skills still were in need of a bit of work before they were back to normal.

"Right…" I sighed, wishing with all my heart that Harry would be more like Ron and have no deductive reasoning skills whatsoever. "Er, well, you got me," I said, pretending that I had purposely made up this story (which, admittedly, I had, but for a different reason). "I guess the real reason I want a chess piece is so that I can play chess properly and possibly join in once in a while…maybe even beat Ron."

Harry looked at me in disbelief. "And you plan on doing that with just one chess piece?"

"Er…"

"Don't you need a chess set, not simply one piece, to learn how to play?"

"Oh," I mumbled. "Right. I'll just…go…then."

"Hermione," Harry said, placing a hand on my shoulder and squeezing it comfortingly. "Are you sure you're okay? You're acting very…off. I mean, you're the brightest witch of your age and, no offense, you're behaving a bit…well…you're not behaving like yourself. A bit like in third year when you were on edge because of that whole Time Turner thing."

I smiled weakly at Harry. "I suppose I'm just stressing too much about NEWTs. I mean they determine our future."

"They're not for seven months," Harry pointed out.

"Well, you know me," I said, faking a laugh. "Always worrying about my studies."

Harry looked as if he wanted to say something, but instead he dropped his hand and said, "Well, just…relax. You'll do fine." I knew immediately that he didn't believe that NEWTs were what were bothering me, but I was thankful that he didn't continue his interrogation. We both returned to the other end of the common room, joining Ginny and Ron. Ginny looked at me expectantly and Ron, although he started the game of chess up with Harry again, had leaned his body slightly so that he could attempt to ease drop.

"So," Ginny whispered excitedly. "What happened? Are you going together?"

"No," I replied glumly.

"He said no!" Ginny exclaimed, covering her mouth with her hand in disbelief and, above all, horror.

"I asked him if I could borrow a chess piece!" I exclaimed, throwing myself miserably onto her shoulder.

"A chess piece?" Ginny asked, taken aback. "You asked him for a bloody chess piece?"

"I panicked!" I muttered into her shoulder. "I couldn't bear to ask him. I can't go through with it, Gin. He'll just say no."

"No, he won't," Ginny said sternly. "At least he won't if you don't ask him for a chess piece again."

"If he said yes it wouldn't be because he liked me the same way that I like him!" I protested.

"Hermione, are you ever going to believe that he likes you more than as a friend?"

"No," I mumbled, my head still on her shoulder.

"That's it," Ginny said, still in a low voice. "From here on out, I'm taking control."

"What?" I exclaimed worriedly, removing my head from her shoulder.

"Just leave it up to me," Ginny said, giving me a slight pat on the back.

*****

So now Ginny's going to, somehow, get us together.

Oh Merlin. If she puts me in a duck suit, I swear to go god I'm murdering her.

Well, I'll only murder her if she puts me in that pink ruffly number. Honestly. And I thought I had no fashion sense.

Somehow I predict doom in my future.


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