Well, we’re off to Hogwarts again. Fifth year…

There don’t seem to be as many pupils this time around. The platform was crowded, true enough, but it didn’t seem to be as mad a crush as it used to be. And all the parents I saw looked so worried…

I have to confess, I wonder what’s going to happen with all the Muggle- borns. Because it wouldn’t be fair just to leave them in the everyday world and deprive them of the chance to use their power; and it could turn out dangerous to have untrained witches and wizards out there; but with the current situation, acknowledging that magical talent could put the entire family in danger. It’s a dilemma I’m glad I don’t have to deal with.

If I was just starting now, and I had to choose – I’d want to be told, for purely selfish reasons. I can’t imagine what my life would have been like if I hadn’t received my Hogwarts letter. No, wait – I can. Everyday subjects at the local high school, maybe a few odd things happening to me but no danger, no excitement and no friends.

Speaking of friends – they’re currently indulging in what appears to have become a ritual. Harry bought about half the sweeties from the cart and piled them on an empty seat. And by the diligent efforts of these two boys, the pile is rapidly diminishing. I’m surprised their teeth haven’t rotted away by now.

It’s only a few hours away. Soon we’ll be changing into our robes, and then switching from the train to the carriages. And then the first years will be Sorted (oh, I remember that. I had thought I’d be in Ravenclaw, because all I ever really had going for me was my brain. But the Hat said differently, and I’m very glad it did) and after that the Feast. I wonder if the Headmaster’s speech will be serious. It should be a happy occasion, but with all that’s happened… I’ll find out soon enough.

Of course, now we’re underway I can start worrying about my work in earnest. The O.W.L.s are this year! Potions with Snape, I’m not looking forward to, but Arithmancy is nice and relaxing because it’s so precise (unlike Divination – and they still ask me for help when they know I despise the subject! Honestly, boys…) and Care of… Well, now. There’s a thought. Will Hagrid be back, I wonder? He should be, I’m sure, but that was never a guarantee of anything.

Oh, school. I like school. I’ve missed everyone, and now I’m almost back and I’m so happy… I’ve even, possibly, a little, missed Malfoy’s snide remarks – or maybe just the way Ron gets mad on my behalf. Oh Lord. The Slytherins. My hair. What am I going to do?

I’m going to be calm and not worry because I like it and my friends like it and that’s all that matters. And it looks good and I know it. I just hope I can remember that when we finally bump into them.

We managed to avoid all that lot at the station – we came through the barrier and the six of us hopped on the train straight away. The twins went off to find their own friends after the train started, and Ginny scuttled off soon after, bless her. So it’s the three of us, again.

We have to stick together this year, the three of us. We can’t afford to have any more big fights. I know we’re not going to be perfect – I’m not that idealistic – but when we do have quarrels we’re going to have to patch them up quickly. Because the world we are now living in is not a safe one. And because Harry, my best friend, the fifteen-year-old boy sitting across from me and sorting through the cards from his Chocolate Frogs, is the prime target of the great Dark Wizard and his followers.

And the only way the three of us will see this through is if we do it together.

Back to school. I’m enthused… I mean, yeah, it’s probably better than home right now, and yeah, I’ve been bored silly half the time, but still… it’s school. And that means work and classes and more work and then exams before we eventually get holidays again. She’s actually got me worried about the O.W.L.s a whole school year before we take them. That’s quite impressive.

Ah, but it’s hard to keep worrying when there’s enough chocolate in front of you to drown in. And yes, Harry did pay for it all; but he couldn’t possibly eat it all himself, and if he tried he’d probably throw up, so you see I’m doing him a favour here… Yeah right. That nearly fooled me first time, but not any more. It pleases him, though. Little enough does.

What else pleases Harry? Winning at Quidditch – well, I’m sure that can be arranged. We’ve got the best Seeker in the school, for starters, and the Beaters aren’t half-bad either. And maybe he’ll sleep a little better if he’s physically exhausted. That’s one. Getting one over on the Slytherins is another, though that might not be wise this year. Since half of them have Death-Eater parents and all. If they complain to Daddy, who knows where it might end up? Maybe we should just ignore them this year. I suppose that would get on their nerves just as much; and the beauty of it is, nobody could say we’d done anything. He likes… I don’t know, what else? Seeing Hagrid – we can visit, no problem. Um, letters from Sirius, but there’s not much I can do about that. Quiet evenings in the common room. Maintaining his beloved Firebolt. Dobby! We can pay a visit to Dobby in the kitchens; you can’t help but cheer up around him. For the same (but opposite) reason, we will avoid Moaning Myrtle – even though that’s nasty and she’s legitimately upset (but couldn’t she have got over it by now? Fifty years, come on…)

There’s not enough words between the three of us to keep us talking from the station to the school. Over the past few days, we’ve exchanged news, and speculated about the coming year both school-related and other-related, and we’ve chatted mindlessly and talked seriously and now we’ve just run dry.

We haven’t dared to talk too far ahead for fear of jinxing it. But my mind keeps running on, anyway. When I was younger, I always wanted to be a Quidditch player. Now, besides the fact that I’m probably not good enough, I guess I’ve had my eyes opened. There are other jobs out there – things that make a difference. Like maybe I’ll become an Auror. Or even following Dad into the Ministry wouldn’t be too bad – depending on the department, of course.

It doesn’t seem possible, though, any of it. And to get that far, first I have to survive my last three years of school. And for me, that’s literal.

I will, though. I have the best friends anyone could ask for, and they’re stubborn enough that they plain won’t let me die. And I’ll do the same for them.

We’ll be all right.

We changed into our robes, and being dressed in uniform has made me realise that it really is the start of a new school year. And I’m fairly sure I won’t be turned away at the castle door.

It’s going to be hard, though, going back. And the more people that are convinced Voldemort’s back, the more attention I’m going to get. After all, I’ve defeated him once before, and we seem to have this big mystical connection – it’s only natural to assume…

I’m going to ignore them – it’s the only way to deal with it.

Neville popped his head round the door about ten minutes ago – kind of a “hello, how are you, glad to see you back”. I think he’s about the sixth person to do so, but luckily enough they’ve all been friendly faces. Maybe we taught Malfoy and his drones a lesson last time. That was entertaining.

Since the minute I re-entered the wizarding world, it’s just felt like everyone’s eyes are on me. I’m so restricted in what I do and say, because they’re watching and people could get hurt because of it. And sometimes I just feel so claustrophobic.

I think some time with my Firebolt should help. You can’t fly properly if you don’t concentrate; and if you’re concentrating on flying then you can’t think about all the other stuff. Like, gee, all the dark wizards who want me dead.

It seems a little more hopeful in the daytime. And the Express is safe enough – I suppose. The Dementor only got on because it was allowed to. That was a really stupid thing for them to do, though. It was totally pointless, and it left people scared for ages. Thank goodness Professor Lupin was here. Sirius told me, in one of his letters, that seeing as the man had been one of my parents’ best friends, I was both entitled and expected to use his name. I might. But only if there’s nobody else around. And they’ll probably have to push me into it.

My Patronus is a stag. It’s like a connection to my father that I didn’t know I had. It’s like, in a way, he’ll always be around protecting me.

Oh, I’m tired. At the moment, I’m slightly hyped up on sugar, but behind that I’m so damn tired. I’m tired from not sleeping, and I’m tired from being scared all the time, and I’m tired of everything that’s going on. I wish it was just over, one way or the other. I don’t particularly care which.

That’s not entirely true. I want my friends to be all right. So I guess that means I have to win. Some days that’s the only thing that keeps me fighting – the thought that they need me to. It’s arrogant of me, I’m sure, and they’d probably get on well enough without me, and I don’t presume to think I’m the only person holding Voldemort back; but…

My friends need me alive. And I need them alive. Not to fight the war, not to protect me or look after me or do anything for me. Simply because they are my friends. And I love them.

Harry, Hermione and Ron. We’re so different, one from the other, and yet we fit so well. We work as a team. If we three are together then we will overcome anything. A triumvirate invincible – me and my friends.