And So it Begins....

Prologue: Explanations and Confessions

My name is Hermione Granger and I am fifteen years old. So many things have happened to me over the past five years. I have battled a troll, been petrified, saved a convicted felon with my time turner, helped Harry win the Tri-wizard tournament (only to cause the rise of the darkest and most powerful wizard ever known....Voldemort) and have successfully survived a battle at the Ministry of Magic. Yes, I am Hermione Granger, one member of the famous Hogwarts trio. Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and I are famous now. Is that a good thing? I wonder sometimes why the weight and future of the world as we know it has been put on our shoulders, mostly Harry's shoulders. We are FIFTEEN years old and I shudder to think about what the next two years have in store for us.

Diaries are amazing things. You can tell them all of your deepest darkest secrets. I have been talking to this particular for a few weeks now, ever since that night in the ministry. I don't know what happened in the room with the black veil, all I know is that Sirius is dead and Harry has one more loss to add to his collection. If I could ask one wish of the next few years it would be for Ron and myself to remain alive, for Harry's sake. Harry can't handle any more death. I have been so alone these past few weeks, and now I know what Harry must go through every day he spends at the Dursleys.

I lie in bed wondering how long it would be before someone owled me. I, of course, am dying to talk about what happened that night. Girls are always ready to talk about things.

'I'm surprised that Ginny hasn't owled me yet,' I think to myself. Things are getting bad, really bad, and even if you aren't Hermione Granger, 'Bright, smart, witch extraordinaire,' as some people call me, it was easy to see how fast things were beginning to spin out of control.

Voldemort is on the rise and Harry is suffering more than ever with the death of Sirius, and I can't even be there for him because my parents are worried about me. They think I am safer here then I am at Hogwarts, but they're wrong! I'm not safe here and neither are they. Muggles have a hard time in wars like these, or so I've read. They have a hard time seeing what is coming. The newspapers and televisions don't exactly broadcast Voldemort's rise! Muggles would just laugh and then someone would get fired. Sometimes I think I read too much, Ron always tells me that I do.

Ron......where do I begin with Ron? Have you ever heard the saying, "There's a fine line between love and hate?" Well, that's where I am right now, jumping back and forth across that very thin line. Do I love Ron? Yeah, I love Ron, he's my best friend. But so is Harry. There has never been any confusion in my relationship with Harry. He is my brother, well, what my brother would be like if I had one. Ron, on the other hand, is harder to figure out. He's there for me when I need him; he's the first to jump up, the first to defend me against Malfoy; he's my protector, my hero, my family. He's also the first to pick a fight with me, the first to beg for help, the first to make me so angry I could scream, but he is loveable. I know this makes no sense, but nothing seems to where Ron is concerned.

My thoughts drift to the unusually cool summer day. My room is stuffy and how I long to go outside and take a walk. 'It's not safe to wander,' I remind myself, 'you're not as bad off as Harry anyway.' My thoughts drift back to Harry. How could he stand to live with his aunt and uncle after what happened to Sirius, it must be driving him mad. I just want to take Harry in my arms and make everything better. I feel so useless lying in this bed, writing about my feelings when there are much more important things to tackle in this world.

I shut my notebook and grimace in pain as I lift my legs out of bed. "My body is conspiring against me," I mutter to myself as I walk awkwardly to the window and sit on the window seat. Crookshanks leaps into my lap and purrs contentedly as I stroke his ginger fur. Crookshanks will always make my mind wander to Ron. How I love the Weasley family! Their red hair and wide accepting smiles always make me feel at home. One difference between Ron and Harry, I realize, is that when I'm with Ron I feel like I've just come home. That's an odd feeling really. It's hard to describe. He's just comfortable I suppose. It's not that Harry isn't comfortable, he's just different, more brotherly, but also more tortured. His hard life makes him take enormous amounts of guilt upon himself.

Maybe the reason being around Harry isn't as normal as being around Ron is, is because Harry tries so hard to protect us that he keeps secrets from us. He never tells us things until we force it out of him. Well, little does Harry know, or Ron for that matter, I have secrets of my own. Big ones, secrets that I don't even dare to mention out loud, but fear that they will haunt me forever.

Crack!

My thoughts were interrupted by a small fluff of an owl crashing into my window.

"Pig," I muttered, as I opened my window for the little puff to fly in and gratefully received my first letter of the summer ( it's about time Ginny). I opened the letter and saw that it was familiar writing but it wasn't from Ginny.......it was from Ron.