FicWad

Diary Entries and Weekly Missives

Hermione Granger sat atop her bed looking at the very familiar snowy owl, Hedwig, whom sat atop the ledge of her bedroom window. She noticed a rather thickly rolled parchment and her thoughts immediately rushed to some of the last words from Harry, which had been a promise to write to him once a week.

It had not even been two days into the summer holiday and already he was ahead of her other best friend, Ronald Weasley, whom she didn't suspect would be sending a letter whatsoever, but hadn't made such a promise either.

It was nearly nine o'clock in the evening and Hermione, while not intending to turn in early was already wearing her night clothes which consisted solely of a shear white cotton nightgown, panties and for some reason a pair of rather poorly matched socks. It wasn't anything that was fancy but it was something that she found to be extremely comfortable and brought her back to her pre-Hogwarts days of what it was like to be at complete ease.

Upon looking at Hedwig, she found herself far from being at ease. Harry's letters were rarely long and with the death of Cedric Diggory just weeks ago, she felt hesitant because she felt that he would be pushing her away and without being face to face he would take liberties in pushing her further and further from him because he had the luxury of not having her there to counter each point that he might make.

She reluctantly stood and walked over to Hedwig. With trembling hands she just barely managed to pull the letter from the tethered owl. She pointed towards to awaiting bowl of water, as she noticed that Hedwig wasn't immediately leaving with the understanding that Harry was expecting a reply. She crossed the room, resumed the seat she previously occupied and with a held breath began to read.

Dear Hermione,

Well, I told you that I would write you once a week and I most certainly didn't want to be accused of lying to my best friend so here it is. After all, they don't call you the "Brightest witch of our age," for nothing.

Hermione, I know that I'm giving you a bit of a ribbing, but in all seriousness, I got here and I just wanted to turn around and go right back, and now that it's only been a day things are back to normal. When I'm not made to do all the chores, I'm shuffled off out of site to my room and fed through the cat flap.

I miss you, very much. I hope that you appreciate that and the fact that my RELATIVES have allowed me to have my trunk in my room and I've already started in on the summer homework. Please, I'm begging you do NOT tell Ron! I'll never live it down.

I know that I'm back and forth in writing you in this letter but again my mind has been wondering around a bit. Did I tell you that you're the first person to ever kiss me? I think I was a little shocked, even though it was only on the cheek, you have the eternal spot of being Harry Potter's first kiss.

Well, I'm not sure what else to tell you, Hermione. I hope that our OWL year is better than the year we just got out of and that we don't have another death eater as a teacher for defense against the dark arts.

Please write soon and let me know how things are. I'll make sure that Hedwig waits for a reply as I'm sure she'll be a little tired once she gets all the way to your home.

Last, I want to thank you for standing by me this last year, for believing me and believing in my innocence in not putting my name in that blasted cup. Thank you for all the help you gave me with the tasks and thank you for being my truest friend. I know that I worked things out with Ron at the end of the first task and all but at the same time you never faltered from me.

With Love,
Your best friend, Harry

Hermione stared at the letter in utter shock. She didn't know what had shocked her more, that Harry Potter, her Harry, her very best friend in the whole world had done the unthinkable in normal circumstances, summer homework on the first day back. She shook her head vehemently, before drifting to the thought of the friendly peck on the cheek.

She had been his first kiss. She blushed at the thought of it and all of a sudden she realized that the secret crush that she had harbored for the boy since he had thoughtlessly, recklessly and for no other reason as to save her life from the clumsy brutish attack of the wayward mountain troll. She squealed loudly before quickly stifling herself because that just was not Hermione-like whatsoever.

After a few moments, the familiar light padding of feet could be heard quickly darting up the stairs and seconds later there was a quick knock at her door.

"Come in, mum." Hermione said, still blushing furiously as she watched her mum enter quickly and sit next to her daughter with a slight look of concern mixed with amusement. For a moment she didn't say anything whatsoever, still trying to control the flush across her cheeks, before she looked at her mum again and saw that the concern was now gone, completely replaced by the amusement. "MUM!"

"Sorry dear, but I couldn't help but hear you squeal from downstairs and had to ascertain whether there was anything amiss. I do hope that everything is okay." She said, all the while noticing the familiar snowy owl of her daughter's best friend and secret crush. Jane Granger knew her daughter very very well. They were cut from the same mold. They were, both, strict academic prodigy whom learned best when using time-tables and schedules and a love for very brave and noble men.

"Honestly mum!" Hermione started, completely prepared to mount her defense of any subject that her mum might begin with, but her mother knowing Hermione's tactics jumped right in for the kill.

"Is it a letter from your boyfriend, then? How's Harry getting along? You know it's only been two days, one if you take into consideration how long it would take Hedwig to deliver her package and considering that she doesn't seem to be overtly labored, you have definitely got me quite interested into why my studious daughter was squealing with such zeal. Come on Hermione Jane, out with it?"

Hermione listened to her mother speak faster than what she could comprehend, and that was saying something rather spectacular consider the rants that she frequently visited upon her best friends. It took her a second or two to assimilate and organize all of the questions that her mum had asked. Her flush in cheeks turned quickly from the slight pink hue to that of full-out crimson. She took several breaths in a vain attempt to calm herself before she resigned herself with the knowledge that any exoneration that she attempted for herself was already annihilated. Resigned to her fate she handed her letter to her mum and tucked her head in shame.

Jane Granger took the letter from her reluctant daughter's hand. When saying that Hermione had been reluctant was a rather misrepresentation of what actually had happened. At first, she didn't want to part with the letter and upon her mum's persistence and her noticing that upon a tug-of-war with a piece of parchment between the two women that only the Hermione would lose because she was a bit of a pack-rat and liked to keep absolutely everything. As a point of fact to illustrate how much of this actual need could be construed as a disease, she still had every completed assignment that she had done since the first day of primary school.

Jane quickly read the note and came to the same conclusions that her daughter had come to, as well. This boy, while not coming outright and saying it, had a definite albeit hesitant interest in her daughter. She recalled seeing the boy at the station upon picking up her daughter just the other day. He had certainly grown in the two years since she and her husband Roger had been briefly introduced to him during Hermione's second year. While still on the small side he appeared to be full of compassion and friendship and something else which she couldn't place, or maybe she did but knew that he hadn't quite placed it at the time of de-boarding from the odd red train.

"Hermione, I'm not here to criticize you, but by what I've read this Harry is rather taken with you. If you do not feel the same way I would caution you to use the band-aid technique and be quick and to the point, but judging by the way that you are reacting I think that you might also have certain feelings for him?" She stated in a way that while rather instructional was still filled with a mother's genuine concern. Looking towards her daughter she could see that the bluff had given way to a firm resolve.

"Mum, Harry's a rather dense boy when it comes to expressing his feelings." Hermione finally offered, but the mask of uncertainty was only that a mask that a mother could see through instantly.

"Pumkin, you do care for him." That had been a statement, and after a moment Dr. Jane Granger only had to see the resigned nod before she continued. "Well, the direct approach is always the best route to go."

"But mum, when he asked me how he looked before we left for the Yule Ball I told him that he never looked more fanciable, and he still didn't pick up on it. I've liked him since first year, but you know how I am when it comes to making friends."

"HERMIONE JANE GRANGER YOU LISTEN TO ME!" Her mum practically exploded. She was shocked at the aggressive method her mum used as it was something that was reserved for when her dad had found himself in the proverbial dog-house, however upon her reaction she could see that her mum had fully gained her attention. "You like him as more than a friend right?" Hermione nodded. "He listens to you no matter how far you take what you say and whether or not you are attempting to sway him to something of which you hold a firm conviction?" Again, Hermione nodded. "Well, Hermione, it seems that Mr. Potter is a lot smarter than even your father because at least he puts his faith in you most of the time. Tell him how you feel. Be completely honest because without it you will not take that relationship any place that you want and will constantly be firmly in the place of "Best Friend" and by the look on your face of me saying that I can tell that you don't want to always just be his friend. I'm sure that it too a lot out of the young man to even tell you that you were his first kiss, even if it was only on the cheek. That is you're in and I would explore that, honey. Tell him how you feel. Even if you are only friends in the end, it will make that friendship solidify beyond what you have with your other friend whom you constantly bicker with, okay?"

"Yes mum." She said, resigned to the fact that her mum was right, as usual. She watched as her mum crossed her bedroom towards the window and already knowing before she had completed the act itself, her journal. Quickly taking it in her hands and returning it to her daughter, Hermione sighed.

"You know what I expect, honey, just know that it will help." Jane said to her only daughter, and upon Hermione's nod, she leant into her, kissed her daughter's forehead and left the room.

Hermione quickly enjoyed the silence of her room for a moment, reliving the joy that she received in having a letter from Harry after only two days into the summer holidays. This would be interesting. She could finally explore the feelings that she held for the boy that had saved her life, took her seriously, treated her with both honor and respect and, as she looked for the hidden meaning in the letter, love. He didn't realize it, of course. Harry was a bit isolated from anything having to do with love and that was something that she decided would just have to change.

Hermione stood up with resolve, crossed over to her desk. She quickly opened an inkwell, grabbed a quill and began furiously scratching her heart and soul into the journal.

Dear Diary, (Merlin, that's so cliché)

How do I tell him that I love him? He seems so dense at times but with everything I say and do he takes as almost gospel, and while the power in that can be intimidating, at times, it's also refreshing to know that I have a friend like Harry whom I can trust. The problem that I find myself having is the risk involved it taking that friendship to the next level. What if things don't work out in the long run? I risk loosing the person that I feel is my best friend. I admit that Ronald Weasley is my friend, too, but at the same time he pushes me closer and closer to madness with each and every argument that we have. He argues with me just to spite me and just for argument sake.

I admit that I told him that he should have asked me to the Yule Ball and not as a last resort, but I was also saying that to spite him as well. He's absolutely insufferable at all times and I probably would have told him so.

Now that I think about it, I think that I was angry with Harry because while he was pining over Cho Chang he failed to notice me helping him at every turn. He asked her to go to the Yule Ball only to be politely told that she had already been asked and accepted. I suppose it was rather juvenile of me to tell Ron when he finally plucked up the courage to half-arse ask me to the ball as ditched effort, mostly, out of desperation, but my anger at the situation was that Harry hadn't asked me at all.

Harry's cute and fun and makes me laugh and gets me into so much trouble that had I never met him I'd never have had done in the first place and listen to me babble, now. I love him, but I dare not tell him yet. What do I do, dear Diary?

Fight fire with fire is my first thought and while he was somewhat flirtatious with me in sort of mentioning the kiss I gave him, which was really my first one with the exception of Victor kissing my hand, I suppose I should play upon it.

Well, Diary, I'm off to write Harry back. I know that he said that Hedwig could stay until morning and that is what I'll allow her to do. I don't want to abuse such a lovely and loyal owl.

Love always,
Hermione

Hermione diligently cleaned off the tip of her quill and placed it upon her desk. She looked at the clock and noticed that it was now closer to being midnight than it had eight in the evening, which is when she had last laid her eyes upon the digital read-out of her bedside clock. She hadn't really realized that she had let time get away from her while in her pensive thoughts.

Once again, Hermione grabbed the quill and the minutes rushed past her before she finally signed the parchment, addressed the envelope, and with a smirk tied the letter to Hedwig's outstretched leg. Before she knew it, Hedwig leapt off of her arm, and flew out the open window.

"Bloody hell, Harry, what have we started?" Hermione said to herself silently out into the night before turned and tucking in for the night.