Facebook Says I'm Cedric Diggory.

But we all know this is a lie. For one thing, I am certainly not dead. Although being killed by Lord FRICKEN Voldermort would be on the top of my ways to die if the whole situation wasn't actually a fictional novel. This brings me to post about a story I'm not sure whether you've heard. I'll recount it anyway.

I assume that you are familiar with the Harry Potter books. Even if you haven't finished them, you know there is some little scarred kid called Harry who runs around fighting crime using only a piece of wood, and accompanied by a redhaired male dreamboat and an intelligent brunette girl. I read the first book by myself when I was seven years old. That was in the year 2000, also the year of the Sydney Olympic Games and all that while that I think about it. No wonder I went crazy about it, it was my new craze of the millenia! Anyway, I loved it with a passion. I could recite line after line of the books, we have the board game, and the website was the most visited address between the hours of 4-5.30pm in the afternoon of a weekday. The character I always associated with was... yep, you guessed it.. Hermione. I thought I was pretty clever, and all the things that Hermione was supposed to be. My hair was wild. I was a suck up. The usual.

And then the movie came out. In 2001.
I was devestated.

Not because the movie came out, I was thrilled about that. It was the casting that got me into a right spin. Honest to God, I hit my pillow so many times. I couldn't get over it. I mean, all I could think to myself was 'She's only THREE YEARS OLDER THAN ME! THREE! THIS IS BULLSHIT!' (well, maybe not the .. this is bullshit .. part, because I was still only 8, but you get my drift). I was angry for weeks. I went through all my flaws of character, and realised I could have never been her anyway. I was hardly british enough. Or Emma Watson..y.

So you know, I got over it. I still love the books. Rupert Grint is still number one hottest ranga in the world, fo sho. But you know, facebook, even in your stupid little quizzes, you find another way to stab eight year old Sally Gorman right in the heart.

I am not Cedric Diggory.

I AM HERMIONE GRANGER OKAY?
I AM.

Glad we sorted that out.