The distribution of this story is for personal use only. Any other form of distribution is prohibited without the consent of the author.

The Secret Diary of Hermione Granger

~Year Four~

Based on "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire" by J.K. Rowling

Disclaimer: It’s all JKR.

Thanks to: Zsenya, for generously posting everything for me; Honeychurch, for the great Guinevere info; and Kata, who encouraged this in the first place.

***

A/N: Anyone who’s made it this far may have also begun to read Ron’s Rants. He’ll be ranting rudely all along the way as Hermione continues to neatly chronicle her life. You’ll know there’s a corresponding "journal" entry if you see (Ron Rants) at the end of an HQoW diary entry. They will be posted separately.

***

 

HQoW

July 13

Hi, Gwen. How are you?

Perfectly well. How’s summer?

It’s... decent. Mum and Dad are adamant, though. I am not allowed to shrink my teeth. You’d think they’d understand. I look in the mirror and when I pull my hair back and smile with my mouth shut, I’m fine. But when I see my teeth.... it’s never bothered me this much before, but it bothers me now. I’d like to be.... I’d like to be pretty. I know there’s more to people than their looks – heaven knows I learned that second year, with Professor Lockhart. But still.... I don’t know. I hate that I even care.

I know.

No you don’t, you’re Guinevere. I’ve seen what you looked like. Anyway, I don’t want to think about it, because it depresses me. Mum and Dad... they’re just not going to give in and that’s final. Why won’t they trust magic? Why won’t they just let me shrink them? It’s so unfair, it’s just so unfair. I’ve put together a lot of research, and really reasoned things out, plus the fact that I know Mum wants me to be pretty – why else would she buy me that hair potion back in first year? But she doesn’t trust magic. Neither does Dad. They love me, but sometimes magic scares them a lot, even though they try not to show it. And they’re already hung up on my teeth to the point where they won’t let anybody else look in my mouth but themselves. Ugh, they’re such dentists. They won’t even let my friends eat sugar if they can help it. I had to send food to Harry and they’d only let me send sugar-free things. I’m sure he just loved that.

And why were you sending food to Harry? Is he quite all right?

Well, it’s just that the Dursleys – here, I’ll copy his letter. It’s funny.

"Dear Hermione,

Isn’t it great? I can use Hedwig! The Dursleys are scared of Sirius, so I get to use all my wizarding stuff this summer, which makes things a lot less miserable in this house. But listen, you’ve GOT to help me with one thing – you’ve got to send me something to eat. Dudley’s on a diet, so everybody’s forced to eat rabbit food. Seriously, you should see him - he’s gotten so enormous that it’s out of control. He’s wider than Goyle and a foot shorter, I’m not kidding you, which means I’m having to eat nothing but carrots and grapefruit. HELP ME. SEND FOOD.

Let me know how you’re doing,

Harry"

That is rather amusing. Hm.

Yes, and it’s nice to be able to write him. I wrote back, of course, and sent food right away. Then I got a letter from Ron about it – shall I copy that one?

Please!

"Dear Hermione,

How’s life? Did you get that appeal from the Feed Harry Potter Fund of Great Britain? I laughed my head off, and Mum packed him up a pile of food – you know her, she practically had kittens when she heard he was hungry. Well, he’s not hungry now. Errol took five days to recover from flying over about twelve mince pies. Then I heard from him that Hagrid sent him rock cakes (which he could eat if he were desperate, I reckon) and you sent him everything but sweets, so I guess he’ll live. Still no sweets over there, eh? I disagree with that kind of torture. Here’re some Every-Flavor Beans (don’t eat the yellowish-green ones. Just don’t.) I swiped them from Fred. He’s still got a huge stash from Hogsmeade last year. Go on, ruin your teeth, it’ll be great.

Still no word on the Quidditch tickets. I’ll definitely write when I know. The match is on August 25^th, so keep that whole week free, if you can.

Right, that’s it. Let Pig have a minute before you send him back, all right? He gets way too hyper if he flies two trips at once. Everybody here says hi.

See you,

Ron"

What’s "Pig"?

Well, I suppose that’s what he’s calling the tiny owl that Sirius gave him. It’s proper name is Pigwidgeon, Ginny told me. She named him. I like it.

The owl or the name?

Both – you should see him, he’s the teeniest thing, it’s so sweet. And do you want to see Ginny’s letter? Oh, never mind, of course you do, here –

"Hi, Hermione.

Things here are all right. I’m glad you’ll be coming if we get the World Cup tickets – then you’ll be able to meet Bill and Charlie and they’re just great. Especially Bill, wait ‘til you see how cool he is, and how nice! He’s so mature. I think I’d really like having six older brothers if all of them were out of the house. It so makes me look forward to my seventh year. J

I got your letter, and yes, I burnt it right up. Don’t worry, I know all about it, I’d never leave anything like that lying around in a house full of boys. And now you know about me, too, even though you already did. I’ve been sort of obvious. Oh, well, I suppose I can’t help it, but I’m telling you, I’m not being obvious anymore, I’m just not. That’s it, okay? I won’t like him. But DON’T say anything about it in your letter, or anything personal at all – I’m warning you – DO NOT send anything personal back with Pigwidgeon (that’s the owl. Isn’t that sweet? I named him. Ron hates it!) Anyway, Pigwidgeon tends to drop letters with the first person he sees, so don’t say anything you wouldn’t want Mum or Ron to "accidentally" read ten times.

I hope you’re having a really nice summer.

Take care,

Ginny"

So that’s how everybody’s doing.

Erm... what exactly did Ginny ‘burn right up’?

Nothing.

Ah, yes, ‘nothing’. Well that explains it then. Hermione, are you really not going to tell me?

No. I can’t remember what I said anyway.

Yes, I’m sure you’ve forgotten it word for word. Well, I suppose it’s none of my business.... even if I am supposed to be your diary...

Good. Well, I’ll write again soon. Harry’s birthday is in two weeks or so, and I’ll have to think of what to send him. Any ideas?

Oh, Hermione. I’ll think on it.

Thanks. See you soon.

 

HQoW

July 28

Hi, Gwen! Hedwig’s just been here. She always knows when it’s Harry’s birthday. I sent her back to him with a birthday cake and a card.

Your parents let you send cake?

Well, as it’s a birthday, and as I’ve explained to them about Dudley’s diet, they thought it was all right. That’s how they are – Christmas and birthdays only. And I found him a present, too. It’s just a little thing – a tiny, wooden, three-minute hourglass. Just to remind him of the Time-Turner, and what we did with Sirius and Buckbeak.

I like that.

Me, too – I hope Harry does. In any case, he’ll have cake, and Dudley won’t, and I’m sure he’ll love that. You know, I could almost feel badly for Dudley, but from what Harry’s told me I just can’t care too much about the Dursleys. It’s really a crime that Harry can’t live with Sirius. That would have been so wonderful for him. He could find out about his mum and dad, and get to know what kind of people they were – I wonder if he’s even heard from Sirius since that letter on the train. I hope so. He needs that – and it would be nice to know that Sirius and Buckbeak are okay.

I’m sure they’re fine – wouldn’t it make the news if he were caught?

Yes, it would. That’s true. I’ve been getting the Daily Prophet again this summer, and I haven’t seen a word about him, so I’ll just assume that he’s all right.

Any news on the World Cup?

No. But I did have a letter from Ron about Percy. Apparently he’s gone to work for the Ministry, in the Department of International Magical Cooperation. That’s such an honor for him! I know how hard he worked for all his N.E.W.T.s, and I know he wanted to go into the Ministry like his dad. I think it’s wonderful, even if Ron says he’s being, er, a bit over enthusiastic about it. Actually his words were, "That great giant braggart is lording around the house, boring the pants off everybody. It’s insufferable." And even Ginny said, "One more word about Abroad and I’m going to throw myself out a window." Poor Percy. I’ll bet Mr. and Mrs. Weasley are really, really proud of him, though.

I’m ready for summer to be over, Gwen. I miss magic. I miss school. I’ve gone back over all my notes and things, and I’m really ready for fourth year. I hope it’ll be wonderful – I hate not being at Hogwarts. Regular life is so.... regular. Although I suppose it is nice to have a couple of months when I’m not in mortal peril.

I imagine it must be, yes.

I think things are really going to change for me this year, Gwen. I can’t say why, I just have this feeling... I’m so different this summer than I’ve ever been. I saw Susie Raviski in the grocery market the other day, and I waved and smiled. She was so confused, she couldn’t think of anything mean to do or say – I didn’t even care enough to stick around and see -- and I used to be so affected by her. Isn’t that weird? I don’t know how that happened.

And I was reading back over you the other day, looking back at first year, and I just kept thinking – wow, what a little girl I was! I mean, I know I’m only fourteen in September, but that’s ever so much older than eleven, it really is. I feel things differently now. But sometimes I think I’m the only person who feels them. Sometimes I think I’m the only one who really sees me. And I wonder if anyone else will ever see me differently from... from what I’ve been before. I wish I could explain it better than that. I’m so much better at an essay than I am at this sort of thing.

You’ve explained it. I understand.

You’re just the best, Gwen. If I didn’t have you and Ginny.... and Ron and Harry, of course, but I mean if I didn’t have girl friends... I don’t know what I’d do. I’ll write you soon, okay?

Okay.

‘Bye.

 

HQoW

August 22

Gwen – sorry I’ve been so bad about writing – just there hasn’t been anything to say. But there is now! I’ve just had two letters. They’re perfectly – well – here, just read them.

"Hi, Hermione!

Guess what? Dad got the World Cup tickets! He got enough for all of us, and then an extra ticket each for Ron and me. He said we could each bring a friend. Well you should have seen Ron. "Ginny, you have to give me your extra ticket. Seriously, that’s not funny. I have to give Harry mine, he’s with those Dursleys and I invited him first. But I invited Hermione, too, and I’m telling you – give me that ticket."

I pretended that I wouldn’t, though. He’s having a fit right now. Of course you’re coming, I mean, you have to come, Hermione, who else does he think I’d invite? But I can’t say anything to him about it just yet, because it’s hysterically funny, the way Ron’s behaving. I expect you’ll have a letter from him, flaming me. Ha!

Mum and I will come and get you by Floo Powder on Saturday at five. Get all your Hogwarts things together, and you can just stay here at the Burrow all week and catch the Express with us, if that’s okay with your parents. The letter attached to this one is to your mum, from mine, explaining it all. Anyway, they can’t say no. You have to come. I can’t have a whole week of Ron and Harry, with nobody to talk to about... you know. Everything. Not that there’s anything, really – I hardly even think about it anymore.

Send Pigwidgeon back with your answer, but don’t sign it, or write anything that Ron might recognize in case he gets his hands on it -- please, don’t spoil the joke, it’s too funny. (I didn’t grow up with Fred and George for nothing!) Just put a check mark for yes, and a line for no, and I promise I’ll tell him the truth in the morning, before you arrive, it’s just too brilliant to torture him, and he deserves it – I’ve got years and years to get him back for.

See you Saturday!

Ginny

p.s. And of course, you have to bring Crookshanks.

-G.W."

Okay? So there’s that. And not five minutes later, Errol flew in with this one.

"Hermione,

You’re going to kill me, but don’t. Kill Ginny instead. She’s being a selfish little git – she even just stole Pig to send her stupid letter to some friend of hers. Look. What I’m trying to tell you is this. Dad got some tickets to the World Cup, and he gave the two extras to Ginny and me. She gets to invite a friend. I have to invite Harry with mine – he’s at the Dursleys, plus I asked him first, and he’s a Quidditch player. I was going to bring you, too, but now Ginny’s ruining it by inviting some girl. I’m sorry, but it’s not my fault. It’s really too bad, ‘cause I know if you could see this match, you’d understand why Quidditch is the best bloody sport on earth – and there’s no need to write me back about my language. I’m irritated enough as it is.

I guess we’ll just see you on the Hogwarts Express. Say hi to your mum and dad from mine.

‘Bye,

Ron"

Gwen, I’ve done nothing but laugh. I could hardly write my answer. Finally, I did. I sent a check mark to Ginny with Pig – and this to Ron.

"Dear Ron,

It’s okay. I’m not mad. I’m sure you’ll have a lot of fun, and you know I don’t care anything about Quidditch unless it’s Gryffindor. Anyway, I’ll bet I know who Ginny’s friend is, and if I’m right, she’s just a brilliant person – wonderful, really – and you probably won’t even miss me.

Say hi to Harry for me. See you on the Hogwarts Express, September first! And oh, don’t swear in your letters, it’s awful.

Love from,

Hermione"

You’re a terrible person.

I know it. But the opportunity is too good to pass up. Ginny’s right. She says she has "years and years to get him back for" – well, so do I. Anyway, she said she’ll tell him tomorrow morning before I arrive, so he’ll live.

I can’t WAIT to see everyone!!!! Oh, this is going to be so much fun!

Who’s playing?

What?

In the Quidditch World Cup – who’s playing?

Oh – I don’t know, Gwen – teams from someplace. It’ll be great. I have to go and pack! I have to be all ready by five o’clock tomorrow! I’ll write you when I get to the Weasleys’!

 

(Ron Rants)

 

HQoW

August 23

Oh my goodness. I love this house. I LOVE this house. The Weasleys call it The Burrow. It’s a completely magical wizarding house, and I feel so at home in it. Now I’ll never be able to bear summers in the Muggle world again, I know I won’t. I mean, of course I love Mum and Dad with all my heart, but this is how it should be. A million people, a lot of spells flying ‘round, and so much fun that you can hardly catch your breath. And Harry gets here tomorrow! We’ll all be together – oh, Gwen, I just, I’m so happy I could sing. But I won’t, because it would probably scare everybody.

How was your trip?

It was incredible! I’ve never gone by Floo Powder before – I mean, I knew what it was of course, and I knew how to do it, because I read about it in Muggle Studies last year when we were comparing modes of Muggle transportation like cars, planes, and trains to modes of magical types like Apparation, broomsticks, and Floo Powder. It was great to have Ginny and Mrs. Weasley see my house. They looked all around, and Mrs. Weasley had a cup of tea with my Mum before we went. I was able to show Ginny the telephone and the video-recorder and things, and she was fascinated. It almost makes the normal world seem interesting, when you’re in it with witches. Although I have to say, Mrs. Weasley was NOT HELPFUL about my teeth.

What do you mean?

Well, I thought I’d make one last appeal about shrinking them, and get a grown-up witch to back me up on it. I said, "Mum, Mrs. Weasley will tell you it’s not dangerous, she’ll tell you there’s nothing wrong with the idea, won’t you, Mrs. Weasley?" And Mrs. Weasley said, "No, I will not! Your mum is absolutely right, there is nothing the matter with your teeth." And then she pointed to Ginny and said, "This one’s always trying to get me to spell off her freckles. I just don’t think it’s good to encourage that sort of thing in young girls. They’re fine the way they are."

I am SO MAD. I told them I’ll just wait ‘til I’m a fully qualified witch, and then I’ll do it myself! Mrs. Weasley said by the time I’m grown-up, I won’t care so much about it anymore, and Mum agreed. But I don’t believe a word of that. Anyway, forget it. I’m stuck like this until I pass the N.E.W.T.’s.

All right, then, tell me about the Burrow.

Oh, Gwen. When I got here, all the Weasley boys (except Percy) were down in the paddock playing Quidditch. Ginny took me down there – it’s like a little glen surrounded by trees, so if they fly low, none of the Muggles in the area can see them – and I looked up, and there they all were, flying around. I felt a little bit.... shy, all of a sudden. It was weird. I was going to yell up at Ron, but instead I just watched for a minute.

Finally Ron caught sight of me on the ground, and yelled, "Hermione! Hey, time out--" And then all of them landed at once. As soon as we said hi, I felt perfectly fine. Actually, I couldn’t stop grinning. There’s nothing like being surrounded by a wall of redheaded boys.

Hmmm.

Ron told me off for a minute about not informing him that I was coming – but he was grinning, too. And then Ginny introduced me to her brothers Bill and Charlie, and she was right about Bill. He’s cool. He looks like something out of a rock concert, with long hair and a fang earring and dragon-hide boots and things. He’s obviously Ginny’s favorite brother, and it’s clear why – he adores her. He and Charlie both do. They were ruffling her hair and she was slapping at them, but laughing.

It must be so nice to have older brothers. I told Ginny I wish I had some, and she laughed and said, "Sure, but if you did have, you’d want them all to get lost. Have three of mine." Still, it must feel pretty good, to have so many people love you and look out for you. Plus, I think having all these boys around is what makes Ginny so laid back about things, when I’m not. Being an only child... well, I’m the only one who can make things happen, you know? Mum and Dad just have me, so I have to be everything. Ginny can just be herself. The only thing that seems to make her anxious is Harry. Oh, that’s going to be interesting, when he gets here tomorrow. Ginny cleaned her room about nine times, and he’s not even going to see it, and even if he did, he wouldn’t care. But I know the feeling.

So do I.

Ron said he wrote Harry today, and they’re going to get him by Floo Powder tomorrow. He asked if I wanted to come, but I said no, that if the Dursleys are so hard on Harry for being a wizard, then as few of us as possible ought to be invading their house. I think it should just be Ron and Mr. Weasley, but Fred and George say they won’t miss the chance to see "that great fat prig Harry’s always talking about." That’s what they’re calling Dudley. I think they just want to play a trick on him and try out some of their Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.

Wizard Wheezes?

Oh, Fred and George’ve been making up all sorts of trick things – fake wands that turn into rubber chickens, Canary Creams that really turn you into a Canary for a minute, Ton Tongue Toffees that engorge your whole tongue – they want to open a joke shop when they graduate from Hogwarts. They’d written up order sheets and things, so they could start selling all this stuff at school this year. But Mrs. Weasley found all of it, and confiscated it. She’s furious with them.

But why? That sounds like fun.

No, it’s not. It’s really dangerous. They’d have to get all those items approved at the Ministry before they could sell them – that’s what Percy and their mum and dad say. They can’t just go ‘round making up things, and having people ingest them – what if a spell goes wrong? What if someone got hurt? Fred and George aren’t the most... thorough people in the world. They could easily make a mistake. I just don’t think that’s a very good idea, selling trick items that might backfire.

Well.... I guess not.

I’m one of the only people who think it’s bad. Ginny thinks Fred and George are a riot. Ron thinks I’m being bossy. I can’t believe he’s already started in on me and it’s only been one day. "Lighten up, Hermione – oh, look, it’s nothing to get in a snit about – save the lectures for after summer – stop, you’re sounding like Percy –" and then he’ll put his hands over his ears altogether.

Honestly, Gwen, sometimes, I don’t know why I have to like him so much.

P- pardon?

But then he does something nice, like throw a gnome for Crookshanks to chase when he thinks nobody’s watching – he’s still pretending to think Crookshanks is a beast – but I know he doesn’t, I know him, and I just - I can’t help it. I’ve got a mess of feelings that won’t go away, no matter how reasonable I try to be. Over dinner tonight, when the rest of the boys came in from Quidditch, Mrs. Weasley was being a total mum, and saying things like "Well, Bill, Charlie - you’ve met Hermione Granger? She’s one of Ron’s best friends from school." And Bill said, "So I take it, if we want the scoop on Ron, you’re the one to ask, hmm?" And Charlie said, "That’s right, give us the dirt!"

I said, "Oh! Well – that is – Ron’s very....." and Ron looked at me as if to say, "Yeah, what am I?" And then I just blushed, I mean, I just started blushing, and I couldn’t think of a single word to say, and I don’t know why I couldn’t just be normal about everything, but it’s hard. Bill and Charlie were sort of grinning at me, and at each other. Finally Ginny – she’s the best, Gwen – said, "Oh, no, don’t even bother asking Hermione. If you want the real story on Ron, wait ‘til Harry gets here tomorrow," and then she changed the subject to Quidditch, and everybody forgot about me. What a relief.

I don’t know how I’m supposed to manage this. There’s just no good reason for me to be like this. I’m so angry with myself, especially because he’s not... so why am I.... Do you have any idea what this is like?

Oh yes.

WELL IT’S AWFUL. Especially when he doesn’t take anything seriously. He actually asked me to do a Silencing Spell on Percy with magic, tonight. "Hey, Hermione, d’you know any Muting Charms? I’d like you to shut him up so he doesn’t ruin the whole week." Honestly. Sometimes I think he says things like that on purpose, just to annoy me.

Anyway, I’m going to try and forget about it. If I ignore it, maybe it will just go away. I don’t want it. I’ll make it stop. Harry’s coming tomorrow, and then everything will be back to normal.

Yes. Well.

Ohhhhhhhh, yawn. I’ve tired myself out. Ginny’s already asleep. I’m going to sleep, too. Goodnight, Gwen. Thanks – thanks for not – you know – saying anything.

Goodnight, Hermione.

 

(Ron Rants)

 

HQoW

August 24

Hi! We’re leaving for the World Cup really, really early in the morning, but I’m over excited and I can’t get to sleep! I don’t know how Ginny does it, she just climbs in bed, and she’s out like a light.

Harry’s here. They all went and got him – and blew apart the Dursleys’ fireplace in the process. I guess the Dursleys had an electric one, so they’d boarded up their flue. Plus, Fred and George did manage to feed Dudley a Ton Tongue Toffee, and they got in SO MUCH TROUBLE with their mum when they got back. That’s really dangerous, what they did – if they’d hurt him, they might have been expelled. Of course everyone else thinks it’s hilarious, even Harry – and he’s got to go back to the Dursleys’ at the end of the year, so you’d think he wouldn’t want to irritate them so much! Honestly, they’re all just too easy going for their own good.

But I tried to relax about it because we’re all together again, and it is awfully good to see Harry after the whole summer. There’s nothing that makes me happier than to be with all my friends at once. Ginny’s actually been really calm about Harry – I’m impressed. She told me this morning she’s not "planning on doing anything else idiotic, like sending valentine dwarves or singing get-well cards." And she’s "just going to try and get over it," if she can. Of course, the second he walked through the fireplace, she heard him from all the way upstairs. She started repeating, "Okay. Okay." And I said, "Yes, it’s okay. Breathe." And then she raced down to see him with me right behind her, and when he grinned hello at us, she turned an incredible shade of pink. But after that, she really did seem okay. She was even talking to him normally on the stairs.

I jut wish we didn’t have to leave her out of the secret about Sirius. I hate when there’s an awkward pause in the conversation just because Ginny’s present. I try to smooth it over so she won’t notice, but Ron almost blew it today because he forgot she was standing right there. I wish he’d be more sensitive of her – she’s not a little girl. I don’t want to be part of kicking her out of the room when the conversation is private – she’s my friend.

Does this mean there’s news about Sirius?

Yes, he’s written Harry twice and he’s fine. We were able to talk about it a bit at dinner because with eleven people, it gets loud enough to cover a private conversation without having to rudely leave anybody out. Actually though, we didn’t talk long about Sirius. There was too much other news. I wish I lived in the wizarding world – I found out so much just at one dinner! Of course, it makes a difference when two of the party are employed at the Ministry. They were talking about everything. Somebody named Bertha Jorkins went missing.

Who’s she?

A witch who worked for the Ministry, for the Department of Magical Games and Sports. She worked for the person who got us the Quidditch tickets – Ludo Bagman. I guess he hasn’t even tried to find her! Percy says he’s not very bright. But then Percy doesn’t think anybody compares to his own boss at the Ministry, Mr. Crouch. Mr. Crouch, Mr. Crouch, Mr. Crouch. I have to admit, Gwen – I like Percy all right, and I think it’s really great he’s got his job and everything – but he really talks a lot about his boss. And he really does lord it over everybody. For once Ron wasn’t exaggerating. Percy’s trying to act grown up and impressive, and it rubs everyone the wrong way. He kept talking really loudly about some top-secret project he’s working on. Well, if it’s top secret, why talk so loudly?

Indeed.

But I didn’t say anything. It’s kind of funny, the way Ron gets so irritated about it. I mean, it’s only Percy. Anyway, the rest of dinner, all anybody talked about was Quidditch.

What do you mean, "all"? Did you find out who’s playing?

Mm-hmm. Let me think a minute. It’s..... Ireland. Ireland and.... hold on, I know this, Ron was just giving me a speech about it.... Uganda? No, they lost to France or something. Or did they beat Wales?

Honestly, Hermione. Top of your class and you can’t keep two champion Quidditch teams straight in your head?

Well I wasn’t listening! I was watching Crookshanks chase gnomes in the garden because he’s just so cute. Anyway, what I said to Ron in that letter was true. The only time I really care about Quidditch is when it’s Gryffindor, and Harry – people I know. Otherwise, it’s just a sport. Not that I’m not thrilled to go to the match tomorrow – I am! I’m sure it’ll be a fascinating experience. Wizards from all over the world will be there – it’ll be really educational.

EduCAtional? Hermione, you go to an international match to watch the GAME!

You’re scary, Gwen. Do you know that’s almost word for word what Ron said to me after dinner? Gave me a half-hour lecture on the joys of Quidditch before I was allowed to come upstairs. He’s obsessed. You should see his room.

Er – have you seen it?

Yes, I – I went in there today. But it wasn’t any big deal, we were all in there, and it was just to show Harry where he’s sleeping! Even though I have to say I felt a little funny, and I kept kicking myself mentally because there’s nothing in the least new or different about knowing where R—knowing where the boys are sleeping, because for heaven’s sake, we’ve lived together in Gryffindor since we were eleven. Oh why am I going on about this??

The only reason I even brought this up was to tell you that his walls are plastered with posters of the Chudley Cannons, and there’s a zooming Quidditch pictorial going on in there twenty-four hours a day. I don’t know how he even sleeps.

Speaking of sleep, I need some. We’re leaving here at five in the morning to go set up our camp.

Camp?

Yes! Mr. Weasley says the World Cup went on for five days last time, and we’re going to camp out at the game-site ‘til it’s through. Doesn’t that sound like fun? I’ve never done much camping, but I’m glad I’ll be there – since the game-site is in public, all the wizarding people are going to have to behave like Muggles, and I don’t think the Weasleys have the slightest idea where to begin. Every once in awhile, it’s very handy to be Muggle-born. I hope the match doesn’t really last five days, though.

What!? Why not? The longer, the better!

Well, it’s my schoolbooks. Mrs. Weasley’s not coming with us to the match after all– she’s going to Diagon Alley and getting all our school things. I’ve never shown up at Hogwarts without reading my texts. I’ll need a bit of time to at least skim through everything before next Monday. But don’t worry, you won’t catch me telling Ron and Harry that I’d rather study than watch Quidditch for a week. They’d throttle me.

You’re just lucky I haven’t got hands.

Well! In that case, I’m going to bed. ‘Night.

 

HQoW

August 25

Wow. That’s all I have to say. This is completely unreal. In all the books I’ve read, I’ve never been able to absorb what the wizarding population really is. It’s enormous. People are here from all over. Little tiny witches, three years old – oh, how I wish I’d known what I was at that age! And lots of grown ups going ‘round, trying to look like Muggles and failing miserably – one man in the water queue was wearing a dress! He was so hilarious – his friend said to him, "Archie, that’s for Muggle women, not the men. You need britches like these," or something. And the man in the dress– oh, Gwen, he said – he said he wouldn’t wear britches because "I like a nice, healthy breeze ‘round my privates, thanks."

I couldn’t even look at Ron and Harry. I just burst out laughing like a maniac, and had to leave the queue altogether. How grown ups can say things like that and not be embarrassed, I’ll never know! And how these wizards and witches expect to get away with being out in public is beyond me. They’re so obvious! You should see the tents. They keep on having to modify the site-keeper’s memory; he’s the only real Muggle for acres. His name’s Mr. Roberts, and he’s very muddled, poor man, because of all they Memory Charms they’ve hit him with. But what are they supposed to do? I mean, Mr. Weasley for example. When we got here, he didn’t know how to count Muggle money, and it looked very suspicious!

I’m sure. How did you get there, anyway? You couldn’t possibly have gone by broomstick, and you’re not old enough to Apparate, are you?

No, you have to be of age and pass the test. We had to go by Portkey. You know, magical objects that are enchanted to take you to a certain place? Only Percy, Charlie, and Bill were allowed to Apparate. So lucky – that’s so much easier. The rest of us had to climb this enormous hill and touch this manky old boot, along with Cedric Diggory and his dad. Did I ever mention Cedric?

I vaguely recall... something about Quidditch. Hufflepuff?

Hufflepuff. He’s their Seeker – remember, he’s the one that caught the Snitch the one time Harry didn’t. The honest truth is that he only won because the dementors came and made Harry fall off his Nimbus. Cedric’s really nice about it, but Mr. Diggory was being very rude, rubbing it in that his son beat the famous Harry Potter at Quidditch. Cedric just looked sort of embarrassed. But wow. Embarrassed or not, he’s extremely handsome and I can’t believe I never thought about it before. I mean, I’ve noticed it, of course, but goodness! Now I’ve really noticed it.

Oh, REAlly.

Don’t worry, Gwen. It’s not like I fancy him or anything. I don’t know him at all, and I’m determined never again to like anybody just because they’re nice to look at. Anyway, he’s seventeen; that’s old.

Remind me never to tell you how old I am.

I meant old for me, Gwen, honestly. So, what else, what else.... Oh yes, the tents! You should see this place; it’s marvelous! Ginny and I have our own little two-room flat, inside what looks like a normal two-man tent. I do love magic, and I’m so glad I’m a girl, because all eight of the boys have to share a three room flat, and Ginny and I get this one all to ourselves. It’s like playing house with a real house. Not that there’s been much time for that sort of thing – we’ve been too busy running around and seeing everything, and running into everyone.

Other students from Hogwarts?

Oh, yes, pretty much everybody. We saw Oliver Wood – he’s been signed to the Puddlemere Reserve Quidditch Team, and he’s so happy! I’m glad for him. Then we saw Cho Chang – the Ravenclaw Seeker – I’ve mentioned her, I think.

Yes, briefly.

Well, we saw her on the way back from getting water at the tap, and Harry slopped practically the whole bucket down the front of him. Do you know, I think he... I think he might like her. I don’t know for sure, but Ron seemed to be smirking at him, and I think Harry was blushing. I’m glad Ginny didn’t see it. And anyway, if Harry likes Cho then he’s as bad as I was in second year. I mean, Cho’s really pretty, but I don’t think he really knows her, so what reason is there to like her? Not that it’s any of my business, but still. Although I have to say, it’s rather nice to see somebody else acting like a bit of an idiot. Is that bad of me?

Of course not. Did you see anyone else?

Yes, we ran into Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas in the Ireland section. The Finnigans have their whole tent covered with live shamrocks – Gwen, they’re a dead giveaway if the site-manager sees them! Muggles can’t grow plants all over their tents! They’re going to get in trouble, but it looks so great that I hope they don’t. Lots of the Irish people were covered in shamrocks. We’re supporting Ireland, too – mostly because Seamus and his mum looked like they’d wrestle us to the ground if we said otherwise.

And tell me, because you MUST know by now – WHO are they playing against?

Bulgaria. Apparently they’ve got this amazing Seeker named Viktor Krum. There were a thousand posters of him in the Bulgaria section, but all they did was blink and scowl – I thought he looked really grumpy, and I said so. Ron just about had an attack. "Really grumpy? Who cares what he looks like? He’s unbelievable. He’s really young, too. Only just eighteen or something. He’s a genius, you wait until tonight, you’ll see." Yes, I’ll see, whatever, Mr. Obsessive.

Well, who’s the favorite to win, then?

I’m not sure – Ireland, I think. Fred and George have bet Ludo Bagman almost forty galleons that Ireland will win it, but that Krum will get the Snitch. I don’t think they should be gambling their whole savings, but it’s too late, they’ve already done it. I can’t believe Mr. Bagman would encourage gambling – he’s the head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports! But Mr. Weasley says he’s very lax about everything - and I guess he must be, if he isn’t even looking for Bertha Jorkins, that missing woman. He’s certainly not being helpful to the people on security duty – he’s been running around talking about Bludgers and Quaffles at the top of his voice, and he’s wearing Quidditch robes.

Why?

I guess he’s just very excited. He used to play for one of England’s teams- Mr. Weasley says he was the best Beater the Wimbourne Wasps ever had. But some of the other Ministry officials are really unhappy with the way he’s behaving. Percy’s boss came by our tents –

The famous Mr. Crouch?

Exactly. And I can actually forgive Percy for being so hung up on him – I mean, the man is amazingly smart. He was dressed more like a Muggle than anybody in the whole place, even me. And he speaks something like two hundred languages, and he'’s very rule-abiding. I have a lot of respect for that, even though some people I know think it’s a useless way to behave. Anyway, poor Percy. His boss doesn’t think quite as highly of him as he thinks of his boss. Mr. Crouch was calling him "Weatherby" instead of Weasley, right in front of everybody. Fred and George went into hysterics, but I felt badly for Percy, and it made me like Mr. Crouch a little less, too. He should value an employee who works so hard. Even if Mr. Bagman’s not very.... er.... on top of things, at least he’s fun. He’s commentating for the match tonight.

The match tonight! Oh, it’s going to be so much fun. We’ve just had lunch, and now it looks like we’re going to go ‘round and shop through all the souvenirs. Ron says he’s saved up all his pocket money this summer for this event. I don’t know if I’ll get anything, but it’s fun to look, and it’s starting to get crazy here in the field because nobody’s even pretending to be a Muggle anymore. Magic’s exploding everywhere. Mr. Weasley’s still trying really hard, though – he was trying to light matches earlier to cook lunch and everything, instead of just prodding up a fire with his wand. Can you believe it – a grown man who’d never lit a match! I had to teach him how. It was an interesting experience.

I have to go, they’re wandering off without me, and I want to see everything. I’ll tell you what happens with the match!

Or else!

‘Bye!

 

HQoW

That was just incredible.

The match? You saw it? It’s over already? What HAPPENED?

Now, don’t get mad with me, Gwen, because I know you’re going to want details, but the fact is, I hardly know what happened. It’s all very well to explain a match when it’s played by people I know, but I could hardly keep the Irish and Bulgarian players straight in my head, so it would just be a mess to try and describe the match. The battle between the Seekers was the only part I really got.

Fine, fine – tell me!

Well, all right, I’ll tell from the beginning, and then I HAVE to go to sleep because I’m exHAUsted. Ginny’s already gone to bed– she passed out at the table while we were having cocoa. What a day. So much went on, not just the match.

First we were out in the field going around and seeing all the souvenirs. Ron got a green rosette and a dancing shamrock hat, and a little tiny figure of Viktor Krum that walks around looking sulky. And then we ran across these things called Omnioculars, which are really great – you can dial the speed down and watch replays and things during the match, plus it tells you what the formations and strategic moves are called – not that I really caught any of them. And we needed to be able to see closely because we were in the Top Box, so Harry got some for all of us.

I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this, Gwen, but Harry’s got quite a lot of money. His parents left him a small fortune, I think. And you know... well, you know how Ron’s family is poor? Well, I think Ron feels embarrassed when Harry can buy things like that for all of us, and he can’t. I think he’s jealous. And I hurt for him, because it bothers him so much. I wish it didn’t – it’s not important if he has money or not! But I tried to distract him anyway, by getting some programs for all of us so it wouldn’t seem like it was all Harry. I don’t know. I feel weird getting in the middle of that.

Don’t, if you can help it.

I know. Anyway, Harry made him feel better, he told Ron that he could forget about getting a Christmas present for about ten years, and Ron looked much cheerier after that. And then there was a loud, distant gong from the direction of the stadium, and we knew it was time for the match to start! We hurried over, and climbed to the Top Box. I tell you, Gwen, I’ve had more exercise today – first climbing that big hill to get the Portkey, and then going up about twenty flights of steps to the very top seats in the Quidditch stadium, which was big enough to fit about ten cathedrals! And all the wizards and witches we’d seen camping in the field were pouring in – I’ve never seen so many people, let alone so many magical ones – it was so unbelievable to watch!

We were in the best box of all – all purple velvet and beautiful seats – the Minister himself was up there, and the Bulgarian Minister, too - oh, and guess who else? A house-elf! At first Harry called it Dobby – remember that one who tried to help him second year, the one who worked for Lucius Malfoy?

Yes, I do. Harry set him free with a sock, if I recall.

I still think that’s marvelous – in fact, I’m starting to get a bit angry about the way these elves are treated. This elf wasn’t Dobby – her name was Winky – but she knew Dobby, and she said some very disturbing things about his freedom. She said that he was "wanting paying" which means that he has "ideas above his station." Above his station? Who wouldn’t want paying for doing all the household work? Mum hires a housekeeper every once in awhile, I’d like to see her find one for free! And then Winky said, "house-elves is not supposed to have fun," that they’re just supposed to do as they’re told – even if that includes going up to the Top Box to save their masters’ seats, when they’re terrified of heights themselves!

Winky is afraid of heights?

Yes, and Mr. Crouch sent her up there anyway! That’s horrible, I think.

Winky is Mr. Crouch’s house-elf?

Yes, sorry, meant to explain that – but it gets me so mad, just thinking about how unfair that is! Don’t you think it’s unfair?

Well, it certainly doesn’t sound quite right.

It isn’t. How can it be? But I decided to think about it later, because Mr. Weasley was so nice to get the tickets, and I wanted to enjoy the match. But ugh, just when I had managed to direct my mind back to the program, the Malfoys came up. Draco and his mum and dad. Lucius Malfoy of course said something really nasty to Mr. Weasley that made me want to push him out of the box. "Good Lord, Arthur. What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box? Surely your house wouldn’t have fetched this much."

He said that in front of the Minister?

Gwen, the Minister isn’t... very.... well, he’s just sort of a blustery person. I don’t know how much he really pays attention to things – at least, he didn’t notice anything that Mr. Malfoy was doing.

What else was he doing?

Staring at me like I was trash, like he did last time I met him. Just curling his lip and looking at me as if to frighten me out of the box. Draco gave all of us one mean sweep with his eyes, and his mother just ignored us. She was pretty, but she looked exceptionally snotty, and her name – you won’t believe it – is Narcissa.

How appropriate, I’m sure.

Hateful family. I just stared right back at Mr. Malfoy. I felt really upset, but I wasn’t going to let him scare me. And then the three of them moved along and found their seats. Ron and Harry were both glaring at the Malfoys, and looking ‘round at me to see if I was all right about it. They’re great. I was quite all right, really, just.... you know, I think this is the real reason why I didn’t tell everyone about Lupin last year.

I’m not sure I understand.

Because the whole werewolf thing – it’s just prejudice. He was wonderful, even if he was a werewolf. And I know what it’s like to be prejudiced against. I know how it feels to have people think badly of you, without giving you a chance to prove yourself. I know it, and I hate it, and I won’t be a party to it.

Well done.

I’m serious. Injustice does not go over well with me – I’ve been really sensitive to it lately. First Buckbeak, then Lupin.... and now these elves. Something strikes up in me when I hear about things like this. And I think it might be because of the way I’m treated by people like the Malfoys. The same way that I don’t agree with teasing people about their looks, because I was teased and I know how it feels. Does that make sense?

It makes perfect sense.

Yes. Well, that’s enough about that. Anyway, what happened next was enough to drive it right out of my mind. Bulgaria and Ireland both did team mascot presentations. Bulgaria had brought veela.

I never liked those creatures. Sorry if that’s prejudiced.

No, that’s all right, actually. I don’t like them myself. They’re very distracting. They came out, looking gorgeous, the way I’d look if I were allowed to make myself over from scratch – you know, just perfect? And then they started dancing around. And then.... oh, it made me so MAD. Stupid veela.

The boys went berserk, didn’t they?

Worse than that. They were about to leap out of the Top Box – literally! I yanked Harry back into his seat – I didn’t even want to look at Ron. Both of them, losing their heads over a lot of pretty faces, it’s just revolting, honestly. Later on, when they got angry during the match, the veela turned into giant, evil-looking birds, and Mr. Weasley yelled out "And that, boys, is why you should never go for looks alone!" I laughed at that – good for Mr. Weasley! – at least he knows what’s really important, if some people don’t.

Some people just haven’t figured things out yet. Don’t be too hard on some people.

Hmph. That’s all I’m saying.

Then Ireland had their mascot presentation – a lot of leprechauns flew through the air and made shamrocks out of themselves, and threw down gold pieces – it was wonderful! I noticed that Ron caught up some of the gold pieces and gave them to Harry, to pay him back for the Omnioculars. But the thing is, Gwen, it was leprechaun gold. It dissolves after a little while. If Ron would only read.... well, let’s just hope he never figures it out. I didn’t want to tell him.

It’s probably better.

Yes. And then, Gwen, after the mascots had gone to opposite sides of the field – the game began. Like I said, I don’t know much about what went on – I tried to keep up, and of course I knew the basic plays, but this was Quidditch like I’ve never seen it at school. And I know I’ve said before that Harry’s the best Seeker in the world – well, he might be the best Seeker of his age, but in the world – no. I mean, he could be, one day, but these Seekers.... they didn’t care about what happened to them, you should have seen the way they dove – the Irish one, Aidan Lynch, got plowed into the ground twice. And I mean plowed – worse than I’ve ever seen Harry hit the ground, and that’s really saying something. In fact, Lynch hit so hard that he knocked himself silly; at the end of the game he had to ride on the back of somebody else’s broom when they did the victory lap.

Then Ireland won?!

Yes, they did. They won by ten points. It was an incredible game – Ireland was up a hundred seventy points to ten – the Irish Chasers were far, far better than the Bulgarian ones – but Fred and George were right on their bet. Krum caught the Snitch. But first he did this thing – he went into this dive that was so steep I screamed, and my Omnioculars said it was called something – a Wonky Faint, I think.

A – what?

Something like that – anyway, the point is, Krum wasn’t even going for the Snitch, he was just faking out the other Seeker, and it worked. Lynch hit the ground and got badly shaken. And then Krum got hit right in the face with a Bludger – I’ve never seen anyone take a Bludger in the face like that – he was all bloody and it must have shattered his nose. But he kept on playing. Ron was right about him, he’s very good.

Why did he catch the Snitch, if Bulgaria wasn’t going to win?

Harry says that Krum wanted to end the match on his own terms. The Irish Chasers were just too good. I guess Harry should know what goes on inside a Seeker’s head, since he is one. He was going crazy afterwards, talking about all the different strategic moves he’s going to try this year in school – I hope he doesn’t want to play like Krum, though. I’d hate to see him get his face all smashed up and everything – at the end, when Krum caught the Snitch, he ran Lynch right into the ground again and then rose into the air, covered in blood. He was very brave, but I don’t think Harry should – oh, who am I kidding, of course he will. He’ll do anything for Quidditch. He’s already fallen fifty feet from the air, had his arm de-boned and tried to ride a broom that was very likely jinxed. He’ll try that Wonky dive, I’m sure.

What does... er... "Wonky" mean, Hermione?

How am I supposed to know? Some special kind of move, I guess. Oh, it was wonderful to watch. And then the players filed up into the Top Box with us, for the awards presentation! We saw them right up close – Ron was about fainting when Viktor Krum walked in and filed past us. Krum looked a sight, I’m telling you – broken nose, two black eyes, round-shouldered – he’s not famous for his looks, that’s for sure. But like Ron said, when he can play Quidditch like that, "who cares what he looks like?" Funny how Ron doesn’t care what Krum looks like, but when it comes to those veela... hmph. Boys. Ron especially.

That really was a once in a lifetime experience, though, Gwen. You have to tell all your friends at Miss Vauclain’s – it was just a wonderful match.

I will. They’ll love it, of course. Thank you.

Sure.... Oh, I’m tired. My goodness, it must be almost midnight. I can hear snores from the boys’ tent from all the way over here. I wonder who that is? It’s practically shaking the walls. I guess I ought to go to sleep. We’re going back to the Burrow in the morning, and I’ll get to study the rest of the week.... I’m so glad.....

You know, Hermione, I have to side with Ron on this. You’re out of your mind.

Oh, Gwen. G’night.