Chapter 1 - Why All the Studying?
This 7th year at Hogwarts: School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was going to be a year like no other. One particular boy with unruly raven-black hair and glasses was thinking this over and over in his mind. He had been studying by himself in the library for a while and his mind drifted off uncontrollably.
He had been thinking about his previous 6 years at Hogwarts; from the anxiousness of going to a wizarding school (and knowing nothing about it), to the dreading final battle he had with Lord Voldemort the previous year.
***
Harry went to fight the Dark Lord with no regrets and doubts. He himself was even surprised at how brave he was feeling at the time. He of course did not want anyone to be involved, as the Prophecy clearly stated that "neither can live, while the other survives."
Professor Dumbledore announced at dinner one evening what the circumstances were. He went on to explain about the return of Lord Voldemort, the Prophecy, and of course the battle that would inevitably take place.
"One of us is going to die in this war," Harry remembered himself announcing in the Great Hall, standing before the hundreds of Hogwart's students. "One. Not two, not ten, not ten-thousand. If I die, that's fine but nobody else is going to."
The school seemed to be a bit worried by Harry's last statement. What was going to happen should Harry fail?
Harry clearly remembered that out of everyone, Hermione seemed to be the most concerned about not only his well-being, but also his safe return. She would not let him go unless he would promise that he was coming back. Harry recalled one moment when they were alone in the boys' dormitories.
"I can't say," he said truthfully to her as he was trying to focus on the battle to come, "I don't know what's going to happen."
"Please Harry," begged Hermione, tears rolling down her check. "Tell me you're coming back!"
It went on and on like that for quite some time. Harry was getting annoyed of the run-around of words.
"All right Hermione," submitted Harry, feeling very irritated with her. "I'll be back for the celebration."
"Oh Harry!" she exclaimed , throwing her arms around him in a tight and embracing hug. "Remember Harry? Friendship, love, bravery. Use them to your aid… You've got it all… please be careful."
Harry did feel bad after the incident. Technically, he did not promise Hermione anything.
Though the battle with Voldemort was fierce, tough, and had a few close calls, Harry did manage to pull away with a victory over the Dark Lord. By Harry's explicit request, the battle itself remained a mystery, sometimes even to Harry himself…
***
He drifted back into reality with a shake of the head. He looked down at his parchment; he had been writing this essay for quite some time. So much time that he knew for a fact that he had the correct answer. He dropped his quill, gave a yawn, and stood out of his seat to stretch.
Harry found himself in the library studying a lot more lately. He always wondered why his did certain things and though he couldn't answer them literally, mentally he knew he had the answers; the hard part was putting it into words. Was it because he as Head Boy wanted to set a good example to the younger years? Was it because after 6 tiring years at Hogwarts it made him realize he had to finally shape up and study? Or was it to try to take his mind off something…?
"Harry!" called a voice from his right. He looked to see fellow Head Girl, Hermione coming up toward him, a few books hugged to her chest.
"Hello," she smiled, just as she plopped the books she was carrying onto the table where Harry was sitting. She sat herself across from him. "What are you doing?"
"Playing Quidditch," Harry answered, sitting back down and beginning to flip through one of the books he was reading to find an answer to an essay question. Hermione grinned.
Harry secretly watched as she sat opposite of him and began to organize the books she had just plopped onto the table. She seemed to stack the thicker, bigger books on her right and the not-so-big books on her left. Just as he had figured, she reached for the thickest spine book and as soon as it had been open, her brown eyes scanned the page. Harry smiled and returned to his parchment.
Cute the way she does things, isn't it?
"It's sort of beautiful isn't it?" she said out of the blue.
What? You?
"What is?" asked Harry, not looking up from his writing.
"That we can have a normal school year for once," she said, getting out a bottle of ink and a quill from her bag. "No more Voldemort, no more mysteries, no more having to worry…"
Harry paused and looked up at her just as she had just started to write her essay. There was a slightly happy, slightly indifferent look on her face which made Harry grin. She was doing the thing she did best and loved doing it: homework.
"It is nice isn't it? Finally, I can fully concentrate on school, something I should've been doing 7 years ago."
"Is that why you've been doing heaps of studying lately?" Hermione implied. "Because now you can concentrate on school without worries?"
"Yeah… I guess…" said Harry, scratching his head. Some where deep down, Harry knew that that wasn't the answer.
Why was it that he was studying a lot recently? It wasn't because he thought it was fun, that was for sure. Was it because he wanted to prove a point? If so, who was he trying to prove the point to? There wasn't one time Harry could recall where he actually cared about how smart other students' thought he was. So why did it suddenly make a difference now?
Harry looked over at Hermione. She was scribbling away at her parchment, obviously writing an answer to an essay question she already knew; she didn't have to look it up in a book. She looked so innocent, so gentle as she wrote, like there wasn't a thing in the world that could stop her.
"Hermione?" called Harry.
Hermione stopped in her writing to look at him and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Harry felt his insides do a familiar flop. "Yes?"
Did I ever tell you how good you look when you do homework?
"I'm not too sure if my answer to this question is correct," Harry said, handing his paper over to her. "Can I have your expert opinion on whether or not I'm doing it correctly?"
Hermione took the paper, ignoring his buttering-up compliment. Harry waited as he watched her brown eyes scan his paper. Her eyes got intense, as if she were trying very hard to understand something. Harry felt his body go limp; his answer just wasn't correct. She handed it back to him.
Hermione sat there staring at a spot on the table and biting her lip as though she was in deep thought. Harry waited for her to say something before he starting all over again. He was shocked… to see a smile curl and form suddenly on her lips.
"What?" asked Harry in bewilderment. Hermione still was smiling.
"For one thing, you didn't write any unnecessary words in there, as many people try to do, and what you used to do I might add, to make it look like to the reader that he or she wrote a lot when they actually are repetitive. You dissected each part of the question, as you should have done anyway, and you explained each part briefly yet fully keeping all your answers clean and cut."
"O….K…" said Harry, "so… is it right?"
"You got it correct," she simply put.
"What?"
"I said you got it correct," she repeated, still giving him a no-toothed smile. Harry felt the same familiar flop in his stomach.
"I did?" he frowned.
"You did," she encouraged, going back to her own writing. "I'm proud of you Harry. You're maturing in your studies."
Harry could not explain it, but he had the biggest feeling of joy course though his veins. He had gotten the effect he wanted. He had asked Hermione to tell him if his answer was correct or not, though he already knew it was correct in the first place. So why ask Hermione if it was correct if he already knew it was correct?
Hermione's compliments and encouragements made getting the answer seem so much more rewarding to him. He had answered his own question.
Harry was trying to prove a point. He was trying to prove that he is capable of studying hard. Harry was also trying to prove a point to a certain person and that person was sitting right in front of him. He wanted to impress Hermione.
A/N: Hello everybody! Well this is going to be my newest story. I had this idea come to me in a dream one night and I liked it so much, I had to write it down with the fear of forgetting it later.
About my last story, "Hints of Love", I had fixed the "boxes" so you all may want to check it out now. I didn't mean for it to be a secret. In fact, I don't know if I want to finish it. It feels rushed and I don't know how I'm going to put it out… only time will tell…
Modified a bit for Pokey… hehehehehe…