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1.
The Diary of Severus Snape

I have never felt more humiliated in all my life.

Potter and his filthy little pack of hounds have harassed me since we arrived at Hogwarts, yet today was the turning point of the storm. That arrogant fool and his merry mates think that I am easy amusement -- that I exist for their entertainment! How sadly mistaken they will find themselves to be.

I had been minding my own, thinking back on the exam I'd just finished when the entire class walked outside by the lake, relaxing after the stress we'd endured. Out of nowhere and completely unprovoked, I was attacked and degraded before every student present. Thanks to that half-witted twit, I was turned completely upside down, left helpless to his hideous advances. Is this how he gets his jollies!? By making himself look only more like the fool he is!?

I was furious. I wanted nothing more than to curse him and then rip him limb from limb with casual flicks of my wand. My entire body pulsed with the pure desire to see his blood spilled on the bright green grass by the lake. My only saving grace was the pretty Lily Evans, who had attempted to defend me by demanding Potter to let me down.

And how did I repay her? Oh Gods, by Merlin I have been such a fool. No -- I do not have feelings for that annoying Gryffindor, but that was no justifiable reason for what I had said. Why could I not have merely thanked her? If not a simple gracious gesture, I could have at least kept quiet. Instead, I angered her more than I've ever seen Potter succeed in.

I called her a mudblood!

By Merlin, I don't know why I'd said that. It is true that she is of filthy blood, but my actions were absurd. I have never lost control so much that I have said such a thing. I am a Slytherin! I have kept my composure under the most awkward situations. Yet today I felt a release unlike any I've known. I screamed, I felt deep hatred for the first time; and it did not scare me.

It thrilled me. I was not ashamed by my emotions, by my murderous thoughts. I was exhilirated and wanted nothing more than to act on those feelings. I found myself only hours ago contemplating just how I could cause physical bodily harm to Potter and have my hands washed clean of the deed. There was surely a way to accomplish such an act without sacrificing myself.

My thoughts keep returning to Lucius Malfoy and our conversation only weeks ago. I have already written about it, and so to remain safe I shall not mention it again. It is far too morbid an idea to discuss more than once -- yet here I am, contemplating his offer with great consideration. The prices to pay for glory are sometimes steep and dangerous. Am I willing to pay such a price?

Am I willing to give up everything I've worked for? The only dream I believe I've ever had to is to be a professor.. Perhaps Defense Against the Dark Arts. Or even a Potions Master. Would I be leaving that one dream behind if I took this path? My blood still boils with anger; I know it is not the time to make such a hasty decision. Perhaps I will be shown the way soon enough, and I will know where my future lies.

Severus Snape


2.
March 12, 1970

Dear Diary,
Today I am finally well enough to write about my first moon. It was a pity missing my tenth Birthday, but Mum and Dad gave me a chocolate cake, and gifts afterwards. Mum always makes the best cake, and she knows chocolate is my favorite, so it was a real treat, after such an ordeal. It really was the oddest thing I have ever experienced, not to mention the most excruciatingly painful. I don’t remember much, but at first it felt as though my internal body was tingling, and became very hot. Then my breath quickened before everything before me went black. Even though I couldn’t see, I was still aware of the actions taking place. I fell to the floor panting, all my limbs began to ache like they were having a sudden growth spurt. Which in fact they were, I could hear the bones shattering, the splinters pushing out through my skin. They grew in length and then mended back together in their new form. My skin then felt as though it were being pricked all over; hair was sprouting from every pore. After that it got a bit harder to concentrate. I believe my mind was being taken over by the wolf at this point. I was able to sense everything differently now. I could smell the sweat trickling down my back, I could hear my mother’s cries coming from the upstairs. She was sobbing so hard that her breaths were racked. My father was consoling her, I could hear is deep voice speaking in soothing tones, telling her it was alright, and it would be over soon. I then tasted blood, I had bitten my tongue, this was due to my teeth growing longer, and coming to sharper points. I opened my eyes, the room was strangely familiar, but at the same time very different from the way it looked prior to my blackout. The pain lessened and from that moment till the next morning I am not aware of the events that transpired.

My next memory was of my Mother waking me. She had tears in her eyes and was looking very worried. I was unable to move, it was as though my muscles had been solidified. I couldn’t move them, yet the pain was so fierce that I burst into tears. All over my skin I could feel blindingly painful stinging, my Mother was applying some sort of potion to the large gaping wounds that I had self inflicted. After she had finished tending to my injuries, she placed a loose robe on me, to conceal my naked body. My Father then carried me to my bed up stairs, I began to cry again because with every step he took, a fresh wave of agony washed over my frail body. Once I was laid down, and as comfortable as possible, which truly wasn’t very much, my Mother gave me a sleeping drought. I remember just before I fell asleep, the events that caused these consequences. I was so foolish to wonder off on my own, being on camping holiday was something I had always wanted to do. Once there, I couldn’t resist the thought of all the specimens I could study. I realize now that it would have been best to listen to my parents, but being young and curious is always trouble. Now I not only have to live with this cruel disability for the rest of my life, but I have also hurt my parents with my actions. I know how much they love me, so to see me in such misery must bring them a different more emotional kind of pain. I just hope that while my wounds are healing, theirs’ too with time will mend.

Remus


3.
05 September 1971

Dear Diary:

Journal (much more sophisticated and appropriate for a boy my age):

I am beginning this journal to commemorate my seven years spent at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry -- of which this is the very first day.

Right, then... where to start? Well, I was looking forward to the train ride - a perfect opportunity to finish Great Expectations. That notion, however, was soon laid to rest when the chaps whom were to share my cabin came -- for a lack of a better term -- roaring in! I immediately buried my face in my book... these bloody scars. And, as is usually the case, I seemed to melt into my surroundings. One would have thought I was wearing a jumper and trousers the same pattern as the bold paisley fabric of the train benches. The other two simply did not take notice of me - and if they did, they did not show it.

The Tall One With the Grey Eyes sat on the same side of the cabin as I, while the Tall One With the Glasses sat opposite him. Judging from their appearance, I assumed that they had known each other for ages. The case seemed to be otherwise, however. I tried not to intrude upon their privacy, but their speech was not uttered in whispered tones.

“Sirius Black, mate,” Grey Eyes said to the other and extended his hand. Glasses took his hand, shook it vigorously, and replied, “James Potter's the name.” They continued to swap the basic information: where from, what kind of wand, favourite Quidditch teams, etc. I, in the meantime, simply sat back and stared at the same page for several minutes... and listened.

Eventually, the conversation lulled and then stopped altogether. It was at this point that I looked up to find two pairs of eyes collectively fixed on me. I shifted nervously in my seat and tried to look more interested in my novel. They saw right through my charade, however, as they both moved closer to me. “So,” Black began, “what about you, mate?” I swallowed the hard lump that had risen in my throat and managed to say in response, “Wh-what about me?”

Black laughed and Potter joined in shortly after. “Look, we don't bite... at least, I don't. This Potter chap looks a bit dodgy, eh? Besides, I have only just met him. At any rate, I just wanted to know your name.” My cheeks grew hot and I knew how very pink they must have turned. “Lupin,” I say, “Remus Lupin.” And I extended my hand. Black grabbed it first and fiercely shook it -- shaking the whole of me in the process -- and Potter followed suit. “Very pleased to make your acquaintance, Remus Lupin!” Black said with a broad grin. Potter grinned as well and said something of a similar nature. They both then engaged me in the same banter they had exchanged earlier.

Except, it was not the same.

I could not tell them everything about myself, as those forging new friendships are wont to do. I simply could not tell them how I got these scratches - or the several scratches that covered my body. I could not tell my new friends exactly what I did -- or could do -- when the moon was full. I could not divulge my terrible secret that -- essentially -- should have kept me from ever getting on that train in the first place.

I could not -- nor would I ever -- tell anyone else that I was am a werewolf.

Nevertheless, I digress...

So, we were all sorted into Gryffindor! At the Feast, I sat next to a pleasant fellow named Peter... Pettigrew, I think it is. James and Sirius took a liking to Peter as well, so the four of us stuck together for the rest of the day. We got on as if we had been mates for ages! This is the first time that I can remember being happy -- truly happy -- in so very long.

I just hope it lasts.

-- Remus J Lupin


4.
Ginny’s First Quidditch Match.


2nd November 1995

Dear Diary,

Today was my first quidditch match as a fully fledged member of the Gryffindor team. You will not believe how nervous I was! I’ve never really played in front of people before apart from when I tried out for the team.
It was silly because I knew I could do it, I’ve been playing ever since I was six, but I always used to sneak my brothers’ brooms out of the shed and practice by myself, I wasn’t sure if I could do it with all those people watching me. And there were a lot of people, it seemed like the whole school was out to watch!
My qudditch robes were a bit big for me and I was worried that they might effect my flying somehow… (don’t ask me why, I was panicking at this point). When I mounted my broom and flew up above the stadium I could hear the whole crowd cheering! It was amazing! Everyone looked so tiny. I knew they weren’t all cheering for us, lots were cheering for Hufflepuff too but I did hear loads of Gryffindor cheers and it made me feel really encouraged and quite excited.
The game itself is a bit of a blur. I wasn’t really keeping up with how the main match itself was going, I was too busy searching for the snitch, though I could tell by the ooohs and aaaahs of the crowd in the Gryffindor stand that at some points we weren’t doing too well.
I didn’t really have that much of a tactic; I just did laps of the stadium, covering as much space as I could and kept an eye out for the snitch. Perhaps it was the adrenaline but I kept thinking I could see a shiny gold object glimmering out of the corner of my eye but when I turned round there was nothing there except air. It really kept me on the edge of my broom!
I really enjoyed it up there, I could just fly around as fast as I liked and I felt really excited. I enjoyed swooping down over the crowds and watching their tiny heads rush by.
After what seemed like ages I saw something shining out of the corner of my eye. This time I knew it was the snitch! It was across the other side of the stadium and I sped towards it as fast as I could, so fast I was worried whether my broom would hold!
Then I heard yelling and cheering from the crowd below and I saw that the Hufflepuff seeker had seen the snitch too, it was a race to see who would get the snitch first! I knew it would be me, I was miles ahead, then from nowhere, a Hufflepuff bludger came hurtling towards me! I didn’t see it coming and I swerved at the very last second to miss it. It was so fast it would have surely knocked me off my broom. My heart was pounding, the Hufflepuff seeker had caught up now, it was so close, we were almost at the snitch! With one last push I managed to get there first and grabbed it tight with both hands so enthusiastically that I had to grip my broom with my legs to stop falling off! I’d done it, I caught the snitch! The game was over! The crowd cheered, the whole crown both Gryffindor and Hufflepuff which confused me. It was only afterwards that I realized that although I had caught the snitch, it still hadn’t been enough to steal the lead from Hufflepuff. It was disappointing that my victory had been for nothing but a part of me didn’t care. It was my victory, I did what I’d set out to do and I’d done it. I’d proved to every one that I’m not just the little baby Weasley anymore.
I’m so exhausted now, I’m going to send an owl home and then go to bed. I hope they’ll be proud of me, Fred and George seemed to be, though they didn’t say as much I could tell. It made me happy.
I think I might try out for chaser next year when the older players on the team leave school. Being a seeker was great but I think I’d prefer scoring goals.
I’m off to bed now, I’ve had a great day and I’m going to dream of my quidditch glory!

Ginny
xxx


5.
1 Sept 1991

Dear Diary

I expected today to be simply dreadful. Percy, Fred, George, and and even Ron were going off to Hogwarts and I was once again to be left alone with our parents. Not that they were so bad, really. I'm just so tired of being too young for everything. I'm tired of being the last one to do things. Being the youngest really sucks sometimes and I was prepared to have myself a good sulk about that later.

But then I saw HIM. Harry Potter.

We'd heard all about him growing up, of course. How he saved the wizarding world from Vo-- You Know Who. How the poor thing had lost his parents and been sent off to live with Muggles. But no one had mentioned the important ones.

He looked to small and nervous and alone at the station. And he was quite possibly the most beautiful boy I had ever seen. He had this messy dark hair and stuck out every which way, crooked glasses that looked as they had been broken several times, and the most gorgeous green eyes in the history of the world. And there was the famous scar.

My heart gave a little flutter when I first saw him and I haven't stopped thinking about him all day. And finally, I have a first of my very own. Something no one else in the family could have done before me. I'm the first to fall in love with Harry Potter.

I do hope I will see him again soon.

Hopefully,

Ginny Weasley


6.
Date: 9-27-68

Last night had to be the most painful thing I ever went through in my entire life. And the joy of it is I now get to experience this pain every month for the rest of my life. Although I was warned about the pain, and was told roughly what would happen, if you haven’t been through it then you really don’t know what the bleeding hell you’re talking about! Bones shifting, joints popping, hair growing, teeth elongating, muscles and skin stretching, all at the same bloody time. And here I thought that day I got knocked off my broom and broke a few bones was the most painful experience. HA! There is no remedy for this; there are no spells that ease the pain. No one to tell you that everything will be okay because no one can be around you. After the change, I barely remember what happened. Although when I awoke this morning and looked around, I can only imagine what happened. The room was a disaster. The walls were covered in claw marks, as was the floor and the sparse furnishings in the room. The ones I couldn’t move or break that is. Already I have heard rumors about strange and ghastly noises coming from the house. I pretend that I too had heard them and wonder what could possibly make such sounds, but mostly I ignore the rumors. I am afraid that if I try to pretend that someone will see the truth in me. No one can know the truth. It’s too horrible to bare. What few friends I have managed to make over these last few years would surely turn away from me. No, it is better to keep my secret just that. I could not bare the thought of the people closest to me shunning me because of who I become, even if it is just once a month, that is enough. I’m suddenly reminded of a play my mother took us all to see called Jekyll and Hyde, where this chap Jekyll who was a doctor was determined to separate good and evil in all mankind, but the local hospital wouldn’t allow him to try his experiment on a living human being, so in the end he tested it on himself. The end result was simply a manifestation of himself, an evil twisted part of himself that lived for murder and mayhem. Mainly killing, if memory serves me right, the very people who denied him the chance to try his experiment on humans. I guess that’s irony for you. In the end, in order for Jekyll to rid himself of the monster he released he had to have his best friend kill him. But at least Jekyll had the option of trying to rid Hyde with medicine and science. To date, I don’t have that luxury. But like Jekyll I too have a monster inside. Granted, Jekyll did this to himself willingly, and at least he could remember everything Hyde had done, even if it was horrible and ghastly. I didn’t choose this, nor would I have. I don’t get to remember what happens when I change. At least Hyde knew the difference between Jekyll’s friends and foes. And at least I don’t have to worry about my monster coming out whenever he wants. At least I know when to expect the change. But like Jekyll I dread the change. A line from just one of the many songs the character Jekyll sings fits so well with how last night went. Just shortly after taking his formula (HJ7….not to original, but fits the purpose I suppose) and he beings to change for the first time, he sings “Something is happening, I can’t explain. Something inside me a breath taking pain. Devours and consumes me and drives me insane. Suddenly, uncontrolled, something is taking hold. Suddenly agony, filling me, killing me? Suddenly, out of breath, what is this is this death?” Right, so that’s more then just one line, but I am sure you get the picture.
~Remus...and the monster within.


7.
January 12
Dear Diary,
I'm so glad I have a friend in you, Diary. You've always been here for me when I need a friend or someone to go to for advice. My life seems so pointless. I'm an invisible first year and the only one who knows I even exist is you. I still really like Harry, but I don't know how long I can keep up this crush because he doesn't seem to pay any attention to me at all. It's heartbreaking, Diary, to see him and know that he'll never feel the same way I feel about him. I know I'm only eleven but I feel so connected to him. It's scary the way I feel about him. I'd do anything to let him know I exist.

I'm thinking of sending Harry a Valentine on Valentine's Day. Do you think it's a good idea? I think it's a good way of showing him that I care without revealing who I really am, if I keep it anonymous. I should start drafting it soon, but I think I'll start it some other day when my head isn't so clouded. I'm thinking of complimenting his features like his jet black hair, his emerald eyes, you know, stuff like that. But I don't know, will it be too obvious that the Valentine is coming from me? Oh I suppose it is risky, but I have to somehow let my feelings out.

Strange things have been happening to me, Diary. There's been time spaces where I can't remember what I've been doing. It's like if someone wakes up in the morning, having drank the night before and can't recall what happened the previous night. But this sort of thing has been happening to me in the middle of the afternoon. I'll be walking down the hall on the way to the library and suddenly it will be three hours later and I'll be waking up in the bathroom with chicken blood and feathers all over my robes. I'm scared, Diary, what's happening to me?! There was a message written on the walls a few months ago saying how the Heir of Slytherin had returned, and I don't remember what I was doing when the message was written. What if I wrote that message? I'm so scared. I don't know what to do? I suppose I should keep a low profile so nobody suspects me of anything, but things just keep happening.

You seem to be taking a hold of me as well, Diary. I thought I was finished with you, but after I threw you down the toilet I couldn't function properly. It's like I'm addicted to you. I even ransacked Harry's dormitory when I heard that he had you. I would never go through someone's things like that, especially Harry's. I don't know what came over me. I'm starting to scare myself. What am I going to do?

I'll be sure to keep you posted on what's going on in my life. I really feel that I can only be open to you, and that you are the only one who cares about me and how my life is. Thanks for being there for me, Diary.

Yours Faithfully,
Ginny Weasley


8.
I did it. It was so amazingly simple. You wouldn't think so, you'd think "No, that's too advanced" or "Aren't you afraid of getting caught? What if it does't work and you're laughed at?"

I feel so powerful, this rush, you know, that means I'm better than everyone.

Me.

And it was easy. Poof and the magic is completed and problem is gone. A wave of the wand, a magic word or two.

I expected to feel horrible. A nagging guilt that would turn my skin pale or cause sweat to break out in beads across my forehead. A sick tremor that would give me away. Something.

But I don't. Not at all. Not even a little.

She had it coming. The stupid witch. She deserved it and more. Honestly, it was practically merciful. Practically. Unless you're a fool. Or worse, a mudblood. Then, I guess, it would be something that strikes terror into one's heart. Hah! I rather like that. Imagine being feared. Famous-like.

But no one knows how powerful I really am. Not yet. Not til the timing’s perfect. And then I’ll get all the attention I deserve and no one will doubt that I’m the greatest wizard. Ever. And tonight was just a bit of proof. A sampling of what I have to offer the world.

It started simple enough. A date. She was pretty. Blonde hair, blue eyes. A body that any guy in their right mind would lust after, want to touch. She was perfect, an angel. Her voice had the lilt of Ireland in it and it was soothing, at first. Soothing and wonderful. I took her to dinner, the perfect gentleman. But I didn't know. An easy mistake. Then she said it, after I'd spent far too much money (that I don't have!) on her dinner. She said "It was amazing, really, to learn I was a witch. My parents were shocked, it was almost funny. But then, they ARE Muggles, you know."

She'd lied to me. Pretended to be pure, pretended to be something she couldn’t hope to achieve. My skin felt filthy at that, let me tell you. I’d fantasised about her, about what she’d be like. How soft she’d feel. The thoughts I’d had made me feel dirty, like I'd just bathed in the Thames.

And would you believe she had the NERVE to get upset because of my reaction? What did she expect, that I'd just simply accept it because she had a pretty face? I didn't come this far to settle for tainted. To settle for someone so obviously below me.

So we fought, all the way to her flat in Chelsea. A Muggle area if ever, even if a lot of the so-called artists are wizards. I shouted, she shouted. And she told me to get out. How could I be so cruel.

So I did it. I didn't even think about it first. It came naturally as if I were born to it.

One moment she was calling me names - and the next she was dead.

It isn't as if it hurt her either. I rather think it was humane, like euthanising an ill pet.

I waved my wand, a quick flick of the wrist, simple words. Avada Kadavra.

So incredibly simple.

I did it. Tom Riddle - no - Lord Voldemort. I used the greatest of the "unforgiveables."

It was easy, and I liked it.

I can't wait to do it again.


9.
September 1, 1991

I met Harry Potter today. Yes, the Harry Potter. Short little kid, scrawny, doesn’t really look like a great wizard, but then again, he’s perceptive. Could tell immediately when Snape was staring at him like he was going to kill him.

Why am I talking about Harry Potter? It was my first day as a prefect. I’m a prefect, can you believe it? All that hard work finally paid off. I got to lead the little firsties up to the dorms tonight. Harry Potter was there.

And Ron, it’s Ron’s first day at Hogwarts. And he’s in Gryffindor, mum and dad will be so proud. He’s befriended Harry Potter you know. I think they’ll be friend for some time. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing. I mean it’s Harry Potter, he has everything, and Ron gets jealous really easily.

He’s shy. It’s really adorable. The only person he would really talk to was Ron, and I think that’s because Ron did most of the talking, as usual. I didn’t think that the hero of the Wizarding World would be a shy little eleven-year-old. I think we all pictured someone bigger, stronger, more assertive.

Argh, we’re back to Harry Potter, aren’t we. Oliver was named Quidditch Captain, he’s very excited. I got an owl for being a prefect, named him Hermes.

But you know all this; I’ve talked about this before. Fred and George were surprisingly well behaved tonight, although, when they did start making Harry Potter dance with them, he looked like he was ready to bolt.

Actually, he tended to shy away when ever someone touched him. That’s…no, impossible. It’s Harry Potter, he grew up in a loving family, he was not abused. He Wasn’t! But the signs are there. I have little brothers; I know what they are supposed to act like. Maybe not as boisterous as mine, but little boys should not be that shy, should not fear touch. I’m a prefect, I should report this.

But it’s Harry Potter. I’m sure it’s nothing. If something was wrong with his home life, he would say something. Wouldn’t he?

So yeah, I’m a prefect today. Finally, after years of waiting for it.

But you know I’m a prefect, I’ve been going on about it since I got my letter. This is Harry Potter, The Boy-Who-Lived. I can’t believe I met him tonight, I can’t believe he spoke to me. Wanted to know who Professor Snape was. Maybe his favourite class will be Potions, although with the look Snape was giving him, I doubt it.

I just still can’t believe it. I mean he’s a celebrity. And he’s Ron’s friend! For now at least, I don’t know how long that will last. Ron’s a bit too loud for him. He might be more comfortable with someone quieter. Then again, my best friend’s Oliver, and there’s nothing quiet about him.

There’s a first year muggle born, Hermione. She’s clever, top of her class I’m sure. Maybe Ron will befriend her. Or maybe not, considering how uncomfortable he is around people who are smarter than him. I wonder why she didn’t get into Ravenclaw.

You know, Harry Potter’s sorting took quite some time. The Hat was torn, that’s the only times it takes that long. I wonder what house? The Hat wanted me in Ravenclaw, even said I would make a good Slytherin, but finally settled on Gryffindor. I wonder what Harry Potter’s other House was. Ravenclaw? I’m sure he’s intelligent. Hufflepuff? Maybe. I heard about what happened on the train with the Malfoy boy, he’s oviously loyal. Or Slytherin? I think it was Slytherin. There’s just something about him that calls to my inner Slytherin.

Harry Potter has the most amazing green eyes. I bet he’ll be quite handsome when he grows up and out of the scrawniness.

And we’re cutting off that line of speculation. Pedophile, he’s eleven-years-old. Wait a few years. Or don’t, think about Penelope Clearwater. She’s certainly pretty.

This has degenerated into nothingness. I should just title this Meeting Harry Potter rather than First Day of Fifth Year.

Classes tomorrow. Maybe I’ll see Harry Potter.

Percy Weasley


10.
June 18th 1988

I found this old piece o' paper and decided i'd write down my feelings right now! I'm so happy that I could blubber like a great ol' idiot! I don' usually write things like this...I don't usually write at all! But I jus' feel so happy righ' now! I can' believe my luck! I jus' found my new best friend! I saw him walkin' down near the river and had to take him home! He's a black Boarhound an' he's jus' the righ' size for me! I've decided to call him Fang, even though he's a bloody great coward! I tried to take him into the Hog's Head with me this lunchtime but he weren' havin' none of it! He just looked at the Hag in the corner and backed out o' the door! Bloody coward he is. Still, he's my new friend and I love him to pieces.

It's our first whole day together and I couldn' be happier! I feel as light as a Flobberworm!

When we come back to my home today he ate a whole side o' beef! I couldn' believe my eyes! I though' that I was the only one who could do that! But no, Fang is the righ' dog for me. We're so alike in so many ways, you wouldn' believe it. We like the same foods, we have the same appetites and we both like dragons (I know this because Fang was sitting, staring at my picture of a Hungarian Horntail I have pinned to my wall for abou' an hour this evening). And if a do say so myself, I think we're both very handsome. And Fang has just barked in agreement! He knows his stuff, alrigh'! He's such a smart dog, too. I think he actually understands what I'm sayin'!

Alrigh', maybe not. I just told him to make me a cuppa tea but he just sat there staring at me. Great ol' Gnome. Not the brightest 'o creatures, Gnomes.

Where was I? Oh yeah. Tomorrow I think I'll take Fang to see the Forbidden Forest! I remember my first time in there was one o' the best experiences o' my life! So I'm sure Fang will enjoy it. I'll take him to see all my friends. I'm sure they'll all want to meet him! I migh' even take him to see Aragog if we have time! I haven' been to see him for weeks so I'm sure he'd like to see me and meet my new friend. Ah, Fang will love him! I know he will! I reckon they'll get on like Fairies and Unicorns! I think they'll be best o' buds in no time!

Alrigh' I better stop writing whatever this is now and get on with some work. I'm supposed to be buying Flesh eatin' Slug Repellent today but I've got completely sidetracked! No one'll blame me though, I've just met my new best friend!

I'd rather have a dragon, though.

No. I don' think i'd give my Fang up for the world!

HAGRID


11.
SUNDAY 1st SEPTEMBER 1991

Today I met the Boy-Who-Lived. BLOODY HELL!

When I first saw Harry he didn’t appear to be the saviour of the wizard world, not that I would even begin to wonder what the infamous Harry Potter would look like, probably like my big brother Charlie, he’s brilliant my brother, works with dragons, but I never considered this small sad figure to bear this rather large insignia.
He was by all accounts no different to the rest of us, especially to my family. He was messy haired, wearing clothes far too big for him, and these glasses which seemed too big for his face, and at first I thought he had been wearing his older siblings’ hand me downs, but later knew different. Mum helped him get through to platform 9 ¾, and I remember thinking why was he alone here. No one to wave him off, or nothing like that. To be honest he looked a bit lost. After that I didn’t seem to think much more of him, and carried on waving goodbye to mum and Ginny. On reflection I thought that if this was the boy who lived, then he would have a hell of a time living up to the expectations and prophesies of our world.

The train was crowded, and I found a compartment where I saw him again and I sort of knew who he was as one of the twins had said he was Harry Potter, but I wasn’t really sure, cos Fred and George are the jokers in the family and it wasn’t until we were introduced, and I asked him if he really was Harry Potter that he nodded.
I remember asking about the scar, I thought it was going to be really gruesome, but when he lifted up his fringe, I saw what can only be described as a lightening pattern, it still looked sore after what 11 years or so, but he didn’t seem to mind showing it to me. I asked him about you know who, and if he had ever met him, but he can’t remember, bet I would though. Gosh imagine having HIM kill your parents right in front of you and surviving Wow!

He asked lots of questions to me though about wizards which I thought was odd, cos he must know all about it what with being so famous and all that. He looks pretty normal to me then, no sign of being a brat or nothing. I showed him my pet rat Scabbers, ok Scabbers is a bit scruffy but he’s mine. He did belong to Percy. But he’s got an owl now.

I kept looking at Harry when he was thinking, until the sweet lady came in and asked if we wanted anything. Harry bought loads of stuff, cos he looked like he never seen anything like it before, especially the frogs, wonder why that is? I had some sandwiches which I didn’t much like, and he shared all his goodies, good bloke Harry is.

Some boy came in our compartment saying he lost his toad or something, Couldn’t help him though, and then some strange girl, came in and started spouting something about Harry as if she had swallowed some books or something, That girl was mental or something, was annoyed that my spell to turn Scabbers yellow didn’t work and She was bloody well smirking that it failed, sat down with us too, damn cheek and introduced her self as if she were some one more important. Had to introduce ourselves of course, mum always said to be polite, but still didn’t mean I had to like this Hermione any better. Harry got a bit surprised that Hermione knew all about him, might have known she would, still Harry looked all agog at this fame. Wonder why though? He should be used to it all by now.
Anyway hope she isn’t in the same house as me. Probably end up in Ravenclaw. I hope to continue the family tradition and be in Gryffindor, Hope Harry is too, cos he’s The-Boy-Who-Lived.


12.
Dear Diary,
HARRY IS AT MY HOUSE OMG!!!! I went down the stairs today, minding my own business, trying to get breakfast, I look up and who do I see? HARY F-ING POTTER. Being the git I am, I blushed like mad and ran straight back up the stairs. It was so embarrassing. I was in my pajamas!! Harry saw me in my pajamas! Oh god. And I must have looked like a complete idiot running away like that. Crap crap crap crap. And I bet you anything Ron was laughing at me and telling Harry all sorts of bad things. Ginny is so stupid. Ginny is such a little girl. She still plays with dolls, she still sleep swith stuffed animals, she still has mum cut off her bread crusts. ARGH!! I just never know what to do around him. I get this weird mental block and lose the ability to speak. I just stand there, like an idiot, and blush. And, blushing? Really not so great with my complexion, not to mention my hair. I end up looking like a stupid tomato. A big, stupid, bright red tomato. Real attractive. Exactly what I want Harry to see. But he's just soooo cuuuuuute!! With is messy black hair and THOSE EYES, those gorgeous green eyes, and even the scar only adds character to his face. Gosh. How could I do anything but stand there and blush like an idiot? I mean, faced with all that hotness? But my chances with him? Next to nothing. Why would he want to go out with a little girl? Especially his best friend's little sister. And I bet Ron says terrible things about me all the time. That's totally something Ron would do. I have to rememeber to like play some prank on him. I can't think of anything good right now, it's too early in the morning, but I'll ask Fred and George. They always have good ideas.

I remember the first day we met and Platform 9 3/4. It's so embarassing to look back on now...gah. I was being so lame. Mummy, why can't I go to Hogwarts too, why can't I be a big girl and go with the boys, Mummy pleeeeeease?? I was being so immature! And in front of Harry!! I mean, sure, I didn't know he was Harry, the Harry, or that he was so nice and sweet and courageous and such a wonderful, intelligent, brave, awesome person at the time but still. It's embarrassing to think of that whole...ordeal. Really, with a first impression like that, it's no wonder all he thinks of me as is Ron's widdle sister. Ron's ickle baby sister. I'll just have to prove meself, somehow. This year is my big chance. I'll be at Hogwarts this year, and, really, only a year under him, so I'll be able to prove that I am more than just Ron's kid sister. I'll show him. And then he'll fall madly in love with me and we'll hold hands and kiss and be cute and get married and have five children, three boys and two girls, and I'll name them Daniel, Rupert, Tom, Emma, and Bonnie. Doesn't that sound wonderful? Ack, mom is calling, I'll be back later.


13.
September 2nd, 1992

Dear Tom,

Today was my first full day at Hogwarts. I was so nervous last night when the Sorting began! I made Gryffindor, of course, but what if I hadn’t? It would have been so embarrassing to be the first of my family not in Gryffindor. Mum was so proud. And just think, I’ll be able to see Harry all the time now. I didn’t see him at the feast last night. He and Ronald were both missing because—get this—they missed the train and flew Dad’s car into a tree! Oh, Mum was furious! I sat with Hermione on the train and at the feast, when the boys didn’t show up. We were so worried, and I really wanted to sit by Harry. But everyone thought it was so brilliant what they’d done, especially Fred and George. Go figure—they wished they’d thought of it themselves.

That trip across the lake with all the other First Years and Hagrid…that was something else. Supposedly there’s a giant squid in the lake. I kept looking for it, but it was so dark and misty, I couldn’t see anything. But that didn’t stop this skinny boy, Colin, from snapping photos with his Muggle camera. Hermione explained that to me later. So weird—the photos don’t even move!

Tom—but it’s so odd to have a diary that writes back to me, I can’t get over it!—I think I’m really going to like it here. It’s exciting to finally be a part of what the boys are always talking about. And Hermione, and Harry, of course. I sat across from him at breakfast this morning. Sort of across and diagonal, you know. He and Ronald were still upset about what they’d done to Dad’s car, and Mum sent Ron a Howler! It seemed to make Harry feel worse. He’s so popular here, Tom. Even Professor Lockhart keeps trying to give him his autograph. I’m just afraid he won’t even look at me. The only reason he knows that I exist is because I’m Ron’s sister. Just his best friend’s kid sister. What should I do, Tom? I have to make him notice me somehow.

This is so cool, Tom. No one else I know has a diary that can actually give them advice and have conversations. But I won’t tell anyone about you, don’t you worry. I keep my promises.

I saw him in the hallway this morning between classes, and he waved at me. Oh, I mean Harry, sorry. But I don’t think he waved at me until after Ron did…I’m not really sure. I wonder if he would have noticed me otherwise. He’s so famous, he could have chosen anyone he wanted for a best friend, and he chose my brother. I think that’s really cool. It’s so strange to think that there was a time when no one knew about Harry. People didn’t even know about…about You-Know-Who in your time, isn’t that right, Tom? I can’t imagine a time when no one had to worry about one evil, evil man taking over everything. What was it like? What sorts of things did you worry about back then?

What’s even stranger to think is that Harry didn’t even know. Not until last year. He didn’t know who he was, or what he’d done, why everyone knew his name. He must be so powerful...he could be as powerful as Professor Dumbledore someday. I believe he will be the one to destroy…to destroy You-Know-Who for good one day. He’s amazing. And you know what’s really great, Tom? He doesn’t have a big head at all. He doesn’t even realize how amazing he is.

I’m going to go to sleep now. I’ll talk to you in the morning.


14.
[Hermione’s first impressions of her Gryffindor housemates.]

I have recently been sorted into Gryffindor house, the house for brave individuals. Though I’m very excited at the prospect of being considered brave, I feel quite mortified that I didn’t get into Ravenclaw, which is the house more commonly defined by intelligence, a trait I strongly value – I may have the intellect, but apparently my bravery is my superior bravery. The problem is not that I do not like this house, but I feel that I might have actually had some form of intelligent conversation with Ravenclaws.

Though I have not yet met all my housemates, those that I have met are people I mostly find highly irritating, or they find me highly irritating.

The first that I had the pleasure to meet is called Neville Longbottom, but we did not meet in the best of circumstances: he’d lost his toad and I decided to aid him in finding it. He actually seemed like quite a nice boy, if a little timid, though I noticed that he definitely seemed to be a klutz. We met a lot of people as we searched for the toad, but the most memorable was when we met two more of my housemates-to-be.

Their names are Ronald Weasley and Harry Potter (who actually turns out to be quite famous; I did some background reading and he’s mentioned in numerous fascinating books, for his defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named at one year old). When we entered the compartment, Ron was trying to cast a spell, but it didn’t work. I may be considered bad at magic due to my status as a muggleborn (an assumption I intend to immediately disprove), but even I knew that it wasn’t a real spell – it wasn’t even in Latin, and I found it quite insulting that he be attempting to trick somebody like that (though I did later find out that he had been tricked into believing that it was a real spell – he must be quite gullible, I imagine).

The two boys were both very shirty with me, speaking as if I was inferior to them, at times. It was also blatantly obvious that the two didn’t want me around and just wanted me to leave, so I obliged, though I did actually get around to asking whether or not they’d seen Neville’s toad (as it turned out, they hadn’t).

I have also met some of the girls in Gryffindor. Though they do have some level of intelligence, they seem to take pride in how they and others look, rather than being people whom I can have an enlightening discussion with. I also rather think that they’ve turned their noses up at me as I am not the prettiest of individuals – something that I’m not particularly concerned about.

I think that this year will be increasingly difficult if I have no chance to have my mind stimulated and make no friends – I’m hoping to make some friends but with the complete difference in interests, it will be hard.

Nonetheless, I resolve to enjoy this year and take full advantage of my magical education, and hope that I have a lovely year.


15.
October 31, 2004

God Harry can be such a … git! Ugh, you’d think that if you were going to secretly sign up for a contest which will earn you fame and fortune, you’d ask your best friend… but no. ‘Mione thinks he didn’t do it… but last night he was saying that if he was going to put his name then he would have done it last night when no one was looking. It will be something new for Harry to have people adoring him *rolls eyes*. They’re all cheering and partying because he got chosen, no one cares that he lied and cheated to get put in there. What do you want to bet that he is gonna act all “I don’t want the popularity.” Of course he does, how could he not, really?!? Everyone wants fame and fortune... it’s human nature! It’s not like I haven’t helped... I got them through the chess game so that Harry could keep You-Know-Who from getting the sorcerers stone, I went with Harry to almost got eaten by a giant spider *shudders*, and I went with him to save my sister. They couldn’t have kept going with out my help and what do I get... “Could you please take Professor Lockhart down to the infirmary, I wish to have a few more words with Harry.” You know it’s just my luck, the guy with six older brothers, to end up being friends with the famous Harry Potter and the smartest witch in school. Between my brothers all being prefects (except Fred and George of course...) and Bill and Percy being Headboy, and now even being best friends with a guy who defeated the dark lord three times now….. Maybe I am jealous…. Or maybe I’m just tired of not being recognized, yeah that’s it. Not like I’m going to say anything to him, I’m just going to smile and act happy for him, nothings ever wrong, I’m NEVER upset, not Ron Weasley, I’m used to being second best (or third, or sixth… whatever.) You know what, he’s going to ask me and ‘Mione for help… god, if he does I’m going to rip his bloody throat out! If he can get his name in, he to the goblet, he can get himself out of the tournament alive... I just hope he doesn’t get himself hurt. I’m just going to suck it up and be the friend I need to be. Yeah that’s it... I wonder how he got past the age line..? Maybe it was the invisibility cloak, no he could have and would have taken me with him… right? It couldn’t have been a potion, he would have needed Hermione for that and she wouldn’t have helped him. Maybe he had Hedwig do it... that’s probably it; he had Hedwig fly over the line and drop the parchment into the goblet. Bah, why couldn’t I have thought of that before tonight, I would have entered my name with pig. Sound’s like someone’s coming, lets see if the Famous Harry Potter wants to spill his secret...


16.
She gazed at the page, it didn’t precisely look hard. She had done algebra harder than this. She couldn’t help but bite her lip in anticipation. The letter had said that she wasn’t to do magic until she reached her new school- oh what was it again? Hogswarts. Yes, Hogwarts. But what if I’m behind she asked herself, I’ll go there and they’ll all laugh at me. I’ll feel horrible. They’ll call me stupid.

Making up her mind, she raised the polished length of wood, and stared at the text in the book that sat before her. “Lah-sar-num in-flum-ary”, she whispered eagerly and… was a little disappointed that nothing happened. She looked at the textbook again, slightly upset.

Was her wand broken?

Was her magic broken?

Had they got it all wrong, and she wasn’t actually a witch?

But no, the things that the letter had mentioned- a child who was teasing her, having their hair set fire when she was six; a textbook pelting her science teacher when she was ten, after the horrid woman had told her that no, little girl, even though you think you are, you’re never always correct- they couldn’t have happened without magic! And the bright blue butterflies which came from her wand when she was in that store, things which couldn’t be explained with reason and logic.

She looked at the word on the page again, utterly distressed. “It looks almost Latin”, her father said over her shoulder. She jumped up, but before she could snap the book shut he steadied her. “It’s alright, Pumpkin”, he told her in he soothing voice, “it is Latin”, he said now with certainty. “Look at the way the words are arranged, did you know that Latin only has five different vowel sounds. We have nine”.

Hermione sat down again, “is that the problem- I’m not saying it right?”

“I believe so, the ‘c’ in Latin as well, it is actually a ‘k’, and the ‘y’, that’s wrong in our language, too”. Her father was knowledgeable, she knew. “Here”, he said as he moved towards a bookshelf, “I’ve got a Latin dictionary right here, maybe you should take it along to school with you”.

Nothing was said about her father’s fears for her at this new school. She was a Daddy’s girl, it was true. She has never spent more than an overnight’s stay at a friends’ house and was now going to go off to school without her parents for a whole nine months. Her father hadn’t wanted her to go at first, he had thought it so odd that she wanted to go off to become a witch. Truly, she thought that he had just wanted her to become a dentist and take over their practice.

Hermione graciously accepted the book in both hands. It was thick and large, and probably hadn’t been looked at in the past fifteen years. “Thank you”. Her father moved to leave, but she stopped him. “Daddy, if you wouldn’t mind- could you maybe help me?”

Only a half hour later she now knew how to pronounce the spell, and her father stood by with a large pot of water ready to put any flames out if the fire didn’t turn out to be inflammable, as the textbook said.

“Lacarnum Inflamare”.

Nothing burnt, there were no explosions, but her father was proud of her and she knew that she could do just as well as any wizard born wizard at her new school, but if that didn’t happen she always had dentistry as a backup.


[Poll #501474]

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1. 2. 3. 4. 5.
6. 7. 8. 9. 10.
11. 12. 13. 14. 15.

16. 17.

[Poll #501475]