Miss Granger's Diary

Time:

1:19 am.

Blaise's eyes opened. The common room was still dark, the fire burning low in the grate. A house elf was picking up garbage that had collected in a dark corner. She shifted her weight further back onto the couch to avoid falling off.

She lay there looking at the fire for awhile, listening to Draco's deep and steady breathing behind her. What she had thought to be fear and anger were resolving into guilt in the safety of Draco's arms. She had handled things badly today, that was for certain, and it was no one's fault but hers.

She moved again, seeking a more comfortable position. She must have nearly awoken him, because he placed a sleepy kiss on the back of her neck and sighed in his sleep. She smiled to herself, closing her eyes and wondering at how such a horrible day could end this way.

Time:

1:29 am.

After spending the entire day being angry and miserable and trying her best to simply avoid anyone and everyone (which mostly consisted of walking around outside and ducking behind trees upon seeing someone in green), Pansy pulled herself up to the Slytherin dormitories. She had vaguely considered sleeping somewhere else in the castle just for the night; she could possibly get away with it, being a prefect, but perhaps not. Instead, she decided to bite the bullet and go back to her room. She was surprised, then, to find a blonde munchkin sleeping in Blaise's bed.

"Who the hell are you?" Pansy snarled.

The girl looked terrified. "Vanessa... someone made me switch rooms."

Pansy ignored her and climbed into her own bed. Oh, good show, Blaise. She closed her eyes and tried not to think anymore. Now that the anger was starting to wear off just slightly, she was more embarassed than anything else. She kept imagining Draco and Blaise talking about her: "We have to keep this from Pansy, she couldn't handle it." "I know, she has such a crush on me, it's disgusting" and laughing... She thought Blaise was her best friend. She didn't even care so much about what had happened, but the fact that she had lied about it, and then somehow twisted things around to make it seem like *she* had done something wrong. What possible justification Blaise could have for being mad at her, she couldn't imagine. Still fuming inside her miserable thoughts, she finally fell asleep.

Time:

2:32 am.

After an hour of sitting by a dying fire, talking to Sirius, Hermione felt ready to return to her room. Perhaps tonight she would actually rest. She was proud of herself; in spite of getting deep into several difficult subjects with Sirius--including Ron, Draco, and Blaise, among other things--she had refrained from bursting into tears. This was no small feat these days.

She made her way back to the castle, as stealthily as she had come. She was pleased to see that she came across no resistance in the form of other students or fellow prefects; this time her mind was far too full to contemplate excuses.

She crept quietly into her room, but before she began changing for bed, she could see there was something...shiny...laying on her pillow. Perplexed, she approached, a little cautiously, given everything that had been going on... As she neared it, she saw there was a note. It was from Luna. A bottlecap necklace. Hermione couldn't help but smile. Then, as she read the note, she couldn't help but cry.

(Bloody Hell?!)

Time:	10:33 am.
Mood:	exhausted.

They finished up their conversation...questions burning in his head he had no way of asking, let alone answering, he heads out of the Gryffindor Tower for yet another sleepless night. Might as well be productive... he thought, as he went to comb the castle again under the excuse of his prefect's duties...

(Bloody Hell?!)

Time:	11:50 am.
Mood:	tired.

Ron paced the corridors until he could think of nothing better to do. "Well," he thought, "might as well try and sleep." Back in his dorm room, as he got ready to flick close the curtains of his bed, he noticed Seamus had left on the radio which was situated on top of his bed side table. "She runs so far, just to stand still..." crooned what sounded like a Muggle band Ron couldn't place. "Yeah, no kidding..." Ron mumbled, before allowing himself a smile smile and turning over to fall into what would hopefully be a peaceful sleep.

(Bloody Hell?!)

Subject:	A return to Hogwarts
Time:	12:15 pm.
Mood:	calm.

The aged looking man, looking far older than he should, walked up the stairs to Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry slowly. It was a strange and serene feeling walking back up these steps again. The man opened the front doors and was no longer a student returning to his beloved school, but a teacher once again.

The air seemed cool as he walked the halls, hearing little sound echoing. He did not bother to look around long, as he proceeded to his office. The shock of being back hit him rather hard, but he was pleased to be back at a proffesor once again.

Proffesor Lupin had returned once again to brave through another year. Shocked about his past allowing him back into this glorious building.

Time:

3:48 pm.

After Transfiguration, Harry headed back to his room. By sheer luck, the corriodors he travelled were empty. Apparently, the entire student body was outside enjoying the sunshine which would disappear in the weeks to come.

He retrieved a worn photo album from his trunk, throwing it down on his bed. Lying on his stomach, chin-in-hands, he looked through the pages of photos, his parents smiling out at him and waving. Harry neither smiled nor waved back.

If Ron had been there to watch, he would have seen a dark, grim and determined look etched into Harry's face, and he would have wondered why he hadn't noticed it before, because it was always there: under the laughs, the smiles, and even the tears he had seen in Harry's eyes lately. If Hermione had been there, she would have been afraid not to set off Harry's temper, yet tried to help. If Luna had been there, she would have asked if Harry's parents had died in his heart as well as his world. If Sirius had been there, he would have been worried...very, very worried, because he would have known what his godson was thinking.

Being well aware of all of this and not wanting any of it to come about, Harry closed the photo album gently, and put it back in his trunk next to a broken two-way mirror. He closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and the dead look in his eyes was gone when he opened them once more. The transformation was nearly as impressive as that of a Metamorphmagus.

As he left the room with his books for that evening's homework, he laughed mirthlessly to himself under his breath, thinking that while he may not be able to lie to his friends, he could certainly keep them from figuring out the questions that he least wanted them to ask...

Time:

4:17 pm.

A new notice appeared on the Slytherin noteboard this morning. It read:

Should anyone be found making rude remarks or passing rumors about the events of the past few days concerning Blaise, let it be known that you will suffer a most unpleasant curse. I've taken the liberty of hexing your beds, so should you step out of line you will recieve a most unpleasant shock, in addition to the aforementioned curse. I'd watch my mouth if I were you. That is all.

(3 Hermione is smart, isn't she? |Bloody Hell?!)

Time:

4:49 pm.

Sirius remained deep in thought after the events of last night. Harry and Ron had come to see him after his weekend rendez-vous. They had chatted, of course, of the events that transpired over the weekend. After what seemed to be an hour or so, the boys left, hopefully a little bit cheerier... perhaps some of the weight they carried had been lifted after their talk. Now all that remained was to talk with Hermione.

She arrived shortly after Ron and Harry had left, sneaking in through the front door, trying hard not to wake Fang. She smiled at the sight of Sirius and sat down in front of him and began to talk. She held back tears as she related her side of the story to him. The tall man listened intently to Hermione, her voice resounding in the air as if a melodic tune. The pieces of the unfinished tale began to fall into place, and a clearer picture was forming in Sirius's mind. Yes, he would have to meet with them again... tonight. If there was anything he hated most-besides Voldemort- it was seeing a group of friends being torn apart by nothing more than miscommunication.

( Owl to Hermione )

( Owl to Ron )

( Owl to Harry )

Time:

8:07 pm.

Perhaps if he had gone to any other school, Harry might have thought it was strange that the Hogwarts library had a secret back room and he hadn't found out about it until his sixth year. It certainly wasn't on the Marauder's Map. Madam Pince had showed it to him after he had moaned out loud in the library that he couldn't concentrate with everyone there. Madam Pince had taken sympathy on him, though she did express a bit of concern considering that the library was nearly empty. Once again, the butterbeer paid off, and she let him in on the secret password. The door was hidden behind a portrait of a very stately old wizard in blue and black robes.

Apparently, the room went unused most of the time. It was dusty and nearly empty, with a few chairs, a small table, and a torch to light it. There was also a portrait of some ugly old librarian from the past. When he had entered the room and closed the door behind him, he lifted the portrait off the hook and leaned it against the wall, face down.

He sat down in one of the chairs and let out an exhausted sigh. At least he didn't have to worry about anyone finding him and wanting to talk about this afternoon. When the librarian in the portrait stopped muttering obscenities, he started to study with a vengence that even Hermione would have been proud of, but Harry tried not to think of that...he just let go all of his emotions and let himself be absorbed by the book in front of him. He was already a week ahead in his homework, but he had to keep going.