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Curtain Call by Sassy
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Curtain Call

Sassy

A/N: Shock horror! This DOESN'T belong to me. So there, you suer people.

PLEASE NOTE!: The start I have copied from another fic of mine, which I posted - but then deleted. So no, I did not copy anyone else's work, OK? It is loosely based on Looking for Alibrandi, a terrific read which I strongly recommend.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Panic was the first raw emotion which coursed through her veins.

Hermione's mind went blank and all she could hear was a faint buzzing noise in her head - the sound of utter silence.

She frowned at the set of questions in front of her. Multiple choice, she thought to herself. Should be easy enough, but she didn't want to get any wrong. She looked around at the rest of the class; most of them head down and busily writing. She already ruled out D and A, but she was tossing up between B and C. Hermione scarcely ever struggled when it came to school work, but this was different. Very different.

'Granger?'

'Huh?'

'You are reading?'

A slight pause. 'Yes?'

'May I ask Miss Granger, if what you are reading has anything to do with what we are talking about?'

Hermione looked up at Professor Snape, the one and only teacher who didn't like her at Hogwarts for seven years. She was horrified about what was happening and wanted desperately to sink through the floor, but he didn't move.

'Please read out to the class what you were reading,' he said icily

Hermione sighed and stood up. She cleared her throat. 'Are you a trustable? If your friend's totally hot boyfriend put the moves on you at a party would you: A) Go with him, B) Through your cocktail on his dress robes, C) Tell him in no uncertain terms about your loyalty to your friend or D) cause a big scene telling your friend loudly.'

You could see why B and C were both distinct possibilities.

The class exchanged snide comments about Hermione getting into trouble firstly, and what she was reading. Ron made a face at Snape.

'And what, may I ask, Miss Granger,' said Snape in his oily voice, 'does this have to do with Potions?'

Hermione looked the class, Gryffindor with sympathy written on their faces and Slytherins sneering. They thought she was beaten.

'Well, Professor, I was merely reading over the material for this class.' She started. 'After all, we were talking about what has influenced us over the years and you only mentioned Potions. Well, I think the media is an integral part of what influences us as teenagers and merely wanted to bring it up for research measures and to show that it isn't just Potions which can bring out truth and bravery, etc. This magazine . . .'

But he wasn't fooled. 'Twenty points from Gryffindor and detention, Granger.'

Hermione turned very red and sat down.

'I would have picked A.' said Pansy loudly. 'But you wouldn't have to worry Hermione, because it will never happen to you.'

But strangely enough, Snape didn't notice.

Hermione couldn't quite say when things went wrong that morning.

First of all, she woke up three minutes late. It was generally agreed that Hermione had a perfect internal clock, and she worried about this while doing her tie and brushing her hair - which thankfully, had tamed down to silky curls after many years of ridicule. Her hair was once bushy and fluffy, and needed restraining at all times.

So of course, when she met Harry and Ron at breakfast all her favourite cantaloupe was gone. She had to have watermelon instead, which wouldn't have been so bad, but clumsy Neville spilt a glassful of milk on it. Needless to say, she didn't have much of an appetite after that.

'He's a slimy git,' said Ron comfortingly after class.

Hermione winced. 'My tummy rumbled.' She said. 'I'm hungry.'

'Alert the media,' said Harry. 'Hermione Granger is actually hungry for once.'

'Shut it, Potter.' Said Hermione. 'Not everyone can have colossal appetite like you two.'

'You have the appetite of a sparrow.' Said Ron. 'A small one.' He added thoughtfully.

'As much as I enjoy your meticulous diagnosis of my eating habits, I am not going to talk to you while I dig in.'

And so she did.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Ron was animatedly explaining his new tactic for Harry while he listened, enthralled. After Hermione and Harry had been appointed Head Girl and Head Boy respectively along with - to their regret - Draco Malfoy (the position which Hermione was sure his father blackmailed to make sure he got) and Hannah Abbot. Dumbledore had decided to have four Heads of the school, because the workload was getting ever increasing.

To Ron's delight, after years of worshipping the game of Quidditch, he was Gryffindor Keeper as well as the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. As sympathetic as he was about Hermione and Harry being within a fifty metre radius of Draco Malfoy's living quarters, he would happily chat with them in their Common Room until the late hours of the night.

Hermione was - surprise, surprise - finishing off an assignment which Professor McGonagall gave that very day, which wouldn't be due until four weeks time and occasionally casting amused looks over at the pair of Quidditch enthusiasts before her. In her opinion, Quidditch was another sport which she happened to like watching from the firm, solid stands.

At that moment, all seemed peaceful and happy enough. But while Hermione rolled up her parchment with a sense of satisfaction and while Harry and Ron chalked up a fantastic new attacking method for Chasers and while Hannah was asked out by Justin Finch-Fletchley; a tall silvery haired Slytherin was sitting by the window-sill and hating the world.

Hermione sat down beside Harry and they put their little blackboard away. Presently, they began talking about anything and everything and their laughter rankled on Malfoy's nerves. Harry's smile faded away and he paused, his hands immediately flying to his forehead where a certain scar burned white-hot.

Ron stopped talking mid-sentence and Hermione stopped laughing.

Malfoy turned to look at Harry who was pressing his hand to his forehead, Hermione with her arm gently on his back.

Ron looked at Malfoy long enough to shoot him a glance filled with loathing, and smirking in return, he swept up to his room.

Harry shakily withdrew his hand and gulped. Hermione looked at him worriedly and Ron swallowed uneasily.

'It's all right.' Said Harry, quietly. 'All gone.' He looked quickly at Hermione's golden brown which looked at him so intensely and reverted his gaze back to his hands. He didn't need to get that funny feeling in the pit of his stomach like his sometimes did when he saw her at that moment.

Hermione stood up and extended a hand to Harry. 'Come on. Dumbledore told us to see him when this happened.'

Reluctantly, Harry rose and touching his scar lightly, they made their way to Dumbledore's office.

'Harry,' said Snape silkily. 'To what do I owe the pleasure?'

'We've come to see Professor Dumbledore,' said Harry through gritted teeth.

'Because his scar was burning,' added Hermione.

Snape paused for a fraction of a second. 'Come.' He said, giving the password ('Canary Cream.') and they stepped onto the revolving staircase. 'Your scar burned, Harry?' he said looking swiftly at his hairline and back down at Harry.

'Yes.' Said Harry shortly.

Hermione could see Harry's fists clenching and unclenching as they whirled further up onto the landing. Dumbledore looked up, mildly surprised at seeing the four of them there. 'Yes?' he inquired, his blue eyes peering over their half-moon glasses.

'His scar was hurting.' Said Snape. 'Sir, you don't think . . .'

'Ah.' Said Dumbledore, his eyes glinting. 'That would explain a lot. Serverus,' he said, handing a newspaper clipping towards him. 'It arrived about a minute before you did.'

Snape passed the clipping to Ron. Hermione and Harry looked over his shoulder and read it in amazement. 'Dark Mark Above Cornwall,' read Hermione slowly. Scanning the article quickly, she added, 'But no one was killed?'

'No one.' Said Dumbledore. 'Now, listen carefully.' He said seriously, his blue eyes without a glimmer of humour in them. 'I don't want any of you to go looking for trouble. We are doing the very best we can to protect you and I beg of you, don't get angry,' he said as his eyes rested on Harry's. 'Revenge is a dish best served cold.'

Harry shuffled and cast his eyes to the floor.

'Send me Mr. Malfoy,' said Dumbledore suddenly to Snape.

Snape left.

'I ask you please, not to talk.' He said gently. 'Whatever is said here is between us. Harry, a word.'

Ron and Hermione left quietly, looking back at Harry before stepping out into the corridor.

They did not speak until they were at the portrait where the Head's Common Room was. Ron paused. 'Look, 'Mione.' He said quietly. 'I think I'll just head up to bed, OK?'

'Of course.' Said Hermione. She shivered and suddenly felt very cold.

Ron patted her on her shoulder and left, leaving Hermione alone in front of the portrait. 'Pheonix.' She said and went into the room.

She climbed into her favourite armchair by the fire and tossed a cozy blanket over her. She stared into the fire and curled her knees up to her chest. Her mind felt in a whirl. She closed her eyes but all she could see were wounded bright green ones looking straight back at her. She shook her head and summoned a hot chocolate from the kitchens and sipped it thoughtfully, her hands enjoying the warmth from it.

'So that's where that flying hot chocolate was off to.' Said Harry quietly, sitting in an armchair opposite.

They sat in silence for awhile. Hermione didn't ask about what Dumbledore said to him and Harry certainly didn't divulge anything. So they sat, locking eyes, almost trying to read the other's mind. Harry smiled slightly and sat up. 'What do you'll do after Hogwarts?'

'I don't know . . .' mused Hermione, glad of a nice innocent topic of conversation. 'I thought I might teach, or maybe even go to the new University they're opening in America.'

'Another Professor McGongall?' said Harry a little thoughtlessly.

Hermione stiffened. 'She isn't that bad.'

Harry jerked his head up. 'No, I mean - she isn't bad and you're not but . . .well - you're both perfect.' He said. 'Like, perfect.' He added, amending.

Hermione shook her head. 'Only because I work hard.'

'No, no.' said Harry eagerly. 'Not just in work. In everything, you're nice and smart and beau . . .' he hesitated. 'Beautiful.'

Here they both coughed and Hermione turned pink and Harry, well he was just plain embarrassed.

'Flatterer.' Said Hermione quickly, with her famous sarcasm. But it just didn't click. It wasn't a time for sarcasm, she supposed. They didn't speak for awhile.

Hermione watched the fire flicker in Harry's green eyes and saw the power behind them. She almost got goose-bumps remembering the time when Malfoy was insulting her and Ron, and Harry was fuming and all over a sudden the goblet in Malfoy's hand exploded, sending a shower of pumpkin juice over him. Wandless magic. There was just so much power personified in the little boy in front of him.

OK. So he wasn't a little boy. Barely a boy at all. He had filled out and was still slender but very strong. He wasn't as tall and Ron certainly, but he was a centimetre away from six feet as Ron often teased him about from his lanky altitude of six foot four and they both extremely tall from Hermione's small frame. His black, glossy hair was still as messy as ever and his green eyes still as alluring.

Hermione always felt so safe, flanked on both sides by her two best friends - much to the disgust of many girls who clamored after Harry's good looks, charm and super-hero status. She didn't blame them. She also didn't blame the others who were attracted to Ron's easy going nature, either. She did wonder why girls threw themselves on Malfoy, but he was very good-looking, besides being a jerk.

Bang.

The portrait door swung open violently and the little girl in the portrait was scowling at Malfoy who stalked into the room. Giving them a poisonous look - which Harry returned - he went soundlessly and wordlessly to bed.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Hermione woke up in the middle of the night.

Not worrying about dressing gowns or slippers, she padded quietly to the Common Room, where she found Harry asleep on the couch. He had fallen asleep after Hermione said good night and went to bed, she guessed.

The moonlight was on his face, making it pale and childlike. Who knew the kind of pressure he would be under. He stirred fretfully and tossed his head.

Taking the blanket that she had left behind, she covered him gently with it. Not wanting to risk him waking up, she stole away quietly when she heard his voice.

'No, please!' he murmured 'Don't!'

Hermione paused and turned around. Ready to explain what on earth she was doing, she opened her mouth.

And closed it.

He was talking in his sleep. 'No, I don't want to die. . .' he voice was getting softer. 'I need - I need . . .' he voice was rising.

Without thinking, Hermione came towards him and rested her hand gently on his forehead, letting her fingers brush through his hair. He sighed and tossed once more. 'It's all right . . .' Hermione whispered.

'I can't!' he said. 'I can't tell her. It's my secret. Mine!'

Hermione smoothed back his hair. 'You're talking nonsense.' She said, absently wondering who this girl was and what secret he possessed.

'You're right . . .you're right,' said Harry. 'As long - as long as we're together . . .'

Hermione withdrew her hand quickly as his eyes fluttered open.

'Harry, I . . .'

But he was asleep. Sound asleep.

Harry kicked off his blankets and turned onto his side, curled up like a kitten. Hermione looked at him for a moment longer and pulled the blanket back on him.

She left quietly, leaving him to sleep.

As she climbed back in the bed, his words echoed over and over in her head. I don't want to die . . . his voice was pleading. She frowned and cuddled her blankets to her. What did You-Know-Who, Snape or anyone know of the Harry she did? In her mind, she saw the childlike Harry sleeping and pleading not to die, the same Harry who would joke and laugh with and the same Harry who had defeated the most powerful Dark Wizard when he was just a baby.

He was like a rough cut diamond, so many sides and looking into it you could see many different things. He was - he was -

He was snoring.

Loudly.

A/N: Hoped you liked. And if you did, I wouldn't mind knowing. So hit the pretty review button and review! Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!