The Potter Vs. Granger Rivalry by lillyfan16

Rating: R
Genres: Drama, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 7
Published: 16/10/2005
Last Updated: 04/06/2013
Status: Completed

FINISHED! AU They were meant to be rivals centuries before they were born, but one cannot help
who their heart falls in love with...and with a Granger coming to Hogwarts this year, Harry's
world is turned upside down. But as Shakespeare says, "The course of true love never did run
smooth..." Excerpt from chapter 13: Harry tried to decode the unspoken set of rules of
friendship between rivals, between a male and female, between himself and Hermione.




1. Meet Harry and Hermione
--------------------------

Chapter 1 Meet Harry And Hermione

Kaci Note: THIS STORY IS NOT MINE!! I am just posting it for my friend Archie1077! This is a
KICK-ASS story so you better read it!

[This is all Archie's]

Title: The Potter Vs. Granger Rivalry

Rating: R (for language)

Primary Theme: Romance

Secondary Theme: Drama

Ships: Harry/Hermione

Spoilers: None AU

Summary: AU They were meant to be rivals centuries before they were born, but one cannot help
who their heart falls in love with...and with a Granger coming to Hogwarts this year, Harry's
world is turned upside down. But as Shakespeare says, "The course of true love never did run
smooth..."

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


“You have run from me, you have hid from me, now…you will DIE by my hand! After all the years…all
the attacks and deaths, you knew it would come down to this. You knew I would be the end of you.
After all, you are a Seer, are you not? Did you foresee your death? Do you know exactly how I plan
to go about killing you? Will I make it quick and easy? Slow and fill you with such pain even the
Gods would be frightened of me? Tell me, Jonas Potter, will you beg for mercy…?”

*“…Two rivalries will face each other…for centuries and centuries to come…”*

“…I ask you, Oh-Great-And-Powerful-Jonas, Did you foresee this coming? If you did, why didn’t
you try to avoid this? Did you know you couldn’t defeat me? Did you just want to end it all? If
that’s what you want, it’s not happening. You will be tortured for days, as if you were in a
washing machine from Hell in my torturing chambers, and then hung out to dry, flesh hanging off
your body, on a jagged rock that pierces through your skin…”

*“…Their hate for each other mounting to an unmistakable high, surcease of all limits and no
boundaries…*

“…You will be mingled and no one will be able to tell where you end or begin. You will be
unrecognizable and a mutated form of all that you are…Potter scum! All of your, and my own,
decedents will know how weak you and your line of blood really are…”

*“…But hope will rely on the alliance between the two of them when they reach an understanding
despite all the opposition they will face from each other and others…”*

“…And think, what will everyone think, a Potter defeated by me, your name will be tarnished and
none of your blood line will be able to face society again with a respectable face. All the honor
your family demands and receives will be flushed down the toilet…”

*“…Their love and bond must withstand all discrimination and be doubtless in the certainty of
forever being joined together…”*

“…What am I going to do next, Jonas? Are you ready for this to end? Are you ready to start your
torture? I must say, I’ve never been one with words, I’m much better in action…”

*“…And only then will the rivalry between the two families with such bad blood between them be
demolished and a new beginning, based on their giving each other everlasting devotion, shall be
recognized and in effect until their love wilts, which would only have bought years of peace
between us, but still ending in failure…”*

“…Are you ready to die, Jonas…”

*“…Two rivalries will face each other…for centuries and centuries to come…”*

“…Think, Jonas, a Potter defeated by me, a Granger…Now say good-bye, Jonas…Bow to death,
Potter…Bow to your defeater and your rival…the Potter Family Bloodline rival…a Granger…” Dark brown
eyes stared into the broken-down green pools of Jonas, relentless and evil, as somewhat of a
generous smile crossed Jonas’s face, he had made the prophecy, maybe, just maybe, all wasn’t
lost…


++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Centuries later…

“Harry…Harry…HARRY JAMES POTTER!!!”

Harry groaned. “I’m up!” he called. The sixteen-year-old boy pulled the covers back over his
head, shielding out the sunlight that was threatening to come through his closed curtains. He
definitely wasn’t a morning person. He wasn’t fully awake until after a shower and breakfast. He
tried to recall his dream again; it had been a really good one, something about him becoming a
famous Quidditch player. That was one thing he loved, probably the only thing he loved. He was
really great in school, almost top of the class. He could cook about anything and charm the socks
off about anyone. Among all his near-perfect qualities, he had a knick for getting in trouble,
whether it came to sneaking around school after hours or taking a tour in the Forbidden Forest and
night time strolls in Hogsmeade. However, his parents didn’t know about all that, which was a good
thing. They saw him as the perfect kid, and that’s how he liked to keep it; made him seem more
trustworthy. Not to mention the fact he was a Potter, they had a reputation of being respectful and
well respected. Old family that had many connections, and if Harry played his cards right, he would
be as smart as his parents are and have thing go great for him too.

Their rules were simple, keep your room clean (sure), get good grades (not too hard, a little
studying never hurt anybody) , no girls (Hogwarts is full of sluts anyway, so never having a
girlfriend wasn’t anywhere near heartbreaking), do your chores (hey, after everything you do for
me, I’ll be glad to), no foul language ( I don’t need to use those words anyway, that’s what a
thesaurus is for, well at least around you anyway), choose good friends (Ron and Draco were good
influences), be a role model for the rest of the wizarding world (hey, I’ll do my best) , no drugs
or drinking (hey, I got Quidditch, I don’t need that stuff) and lastly and probably most
important…never trust, talk, think, or associate in any way with a Granger, (easy, their the Potter
family rivals).

The last one was definitely a biggie. That name was disrespected and hated by all Potters. Harry
had never encountered any Granger, so he didn’t have to worry about them. Harry didn’t know exactly
why, but they had always been haters of each other; their hated multiplying by a thousand after one
of his ancestors and a great times like a thousand grandpa, Jonas Potter, was brutally murdered by
Ashen Granger. Everyone knew that story and after the Grangers had done that, they had lost almost
all respect from the wizarding world. No one would talk to them and they are a disgrace. What was
once a pureblood family had become almost all Muggles; it was a rarity to have a witch or wizard.
They couldn’t show face in the wizarding world, so they were unofficially exiled into the Muggle
community. They married and almost all magic blood was gone. Even if someone magical were born in
the family, they would just ignore it. They were Muggles as far as they were concerned, as well as
the rest of the Magic world.

“HARRY!” Harry was stirred from his thoughts, hearing his mother’s call once again. He sighed
and headed for his bathroom, ready to begin the day…


++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

She had gotten her letter a week ago. She got one every year, but her parents told her to throw
it away. They wanted no part of the wizarding world. She could understand that, why be somewhere
when no one wants you to be around? Why bother people with your company if they would like nothing
better than to see you drop dead? However, she wasn’t the kind that just went with the crowd.
Hermione was the kind that went against the rules of conformity. She did her own thing, which never
did boost her popularity. Being a bookworm and not supermodel material had taken a toll on her.
School had a guarantee stamp with the promise of Hell. She was the one that knew everything and
everyone hated her for it, sometimes even the teachers. Hermione didn’t fit in at all, so she had
zero friends. It seemed that on one could stand her. And it she was honest with herself, it did
hurt her. When she sat down with someone at lunch, they either got up and sat with someone else, or
completely ignored her, so school wasn’t so hot. Nevertheless, she had something to look forward
to, something that took her mind off all the nasty and cruel comments made by her fellow
students…magic. Even though she knew Grangers were exiled from the magic world, that didn’t stop
her. She knew it was useless to learn magic, but she couldn’t help herself, it was just so
fascinating, So, after very much begging and argument with her parents, they allowed to learn it by
herself as long as she kept her grades up, which wasn’t a problem; she did schoolwork at school,
then practice magic in the evenings, usually when others would be out hanging with friends.

Getting her magic supplies had been tricky. She had to sneak into the Leaky Cauldron and ask
someone to go into Diagon Alley and get her and owl, and since then, she would just owl the bank,
Gringotts, and exchange Muggle money for their currency. Then send orders to the shops that had the
supplies she needed. Hermione had found an old Wizarding library, Madam Suddusk’s Volumes, and she
went there all the time. She could still remember her first time there when she was 14...

[FLASHBACK]


*Hermione looked at the old building; it looked almost like a house. It was brown with dark brown
shutters on its high windows. The doors looked like they came straight out of a medieval castle. A
maroon sign was in front, hanging off a pole, and in fancy gold lettering that was fading it said
Madam Suddusk’s Volumes. The knobs were brass, but were rusting slightly. She was quivering when
her hand pulled the huge door open. Hermione quickly stepped inside, feeling really nervous. She
had walked into a lobby-like room, except much bigger. There was a door on her left. The walls had
a rich trim tracing all the way around the room, at the bottom, and to the start of the ceiling.
The ceiling was…well the only word that came to her mind was magnificent. Stained glass started
where the trim stopped, the ceiling cone-shaped, and looked as if it didn’t stop. The floors were
made of wood, the same rich color of the trim; it shined like a brand-new penny. The door opened
and a woman with graying brown hair that was tied up into a bun on the top of her head stepped into
the room, her eyes watching Hermione spin around slowly, taking in the beautiful interior.*

*Hermione caught the woman watching her and stopped twirling abruptly. She walked over to the
woman, slowly at first, then more briskly, “Hello, my name is Clarence Suddusk, Is there something
I can help you with Miss…?”*

*“Hermione. And y-y-yes, I would like to look at some books. Here. That are about m-m-magic.
Please.”*

*The woman looked at Hermione, as if trying to see something that wasn’t there. Then Hermione
saw something in the woman’s eyes, recognition and surprise, but then it disappeared. “Of course,
Miss Hermione…?”*

*She wanted her last name. What in the hell was she suppose to say? ‘Not Granger‘, said a
little voice in her head. “Um,…Hermione…Si..I mean, Solsi…Solstice.” Hermione mumbled, looking
scared of her wits.*

*“Solstice?” Madam Suddusk repeated, almost disappointed, but then quickly recovered and
smiled softly at Hermione. Hermione nodded, returning the old woman’s smiled. “Well, it shouldn’t
be too hard finding a book on magic here, if you would just like to follow me,” and she led
Hermione through the door.*

*Hermione’s eyes grew as big as saucers when they reached the next room. It was lit by many
torches, and had hundreds or bookshelves. It reminded her of the library in the movie Beauty and
the Beast. It had the same wood floor and walls as the first room did, as well as the high ceiling.
They went down the staircase and onto the ground floor, which had tables with chairs and many
couches for comfortable luxury reading.*

*“So, what exactly are you looking for Miss…Solstice? She asked, looking in Hermione’s eyes.
Hermione gulped; there was something about the woman’s eyes that told her she didn’t believe her at
all.*

*“Um…I-I-I’m quite sure. I just thought I’d do a little browsing and just kinda look
around.”*

*“Uh-huh, and would you like some assistance?” The woman asked, glancing around the deserted
room. “As you can see, I’m not too busy right now.”*

*“Um…sure, that would be great.”*

*“Alright, shall we?” They looked around, stopping here and there. Hermione was completely
clueless on anything to do with magic, so she just nodded and tried to pretend like she knew what
she was talking about. But her little charade didn’t last long. Madam Suddusk asked Hermione what
school she went to and Hermione said Hendwarts, instead of Hogwarts. The woman raised her eyebrows.
“Hendwarts? Oh, really. You know, the Headmaster there, Ashworth Canddice, she has got to be the
best headmaster that school has ever seen. Do you agree?”*

*“Of course, she is really great and I look forward to seeing her every year!”*

*“Oh do you? That’s fascinating, because Ashworth Canddice isn’t the headmaster of Hendwarts.
In fact, there isn’t a Wizarding school called ’Hendwarts’!” Hermione just stood there, her mouth
slightly open and her eyes wide. “So, tell me who you really are, Miss Granger, and why you are in
my library, please.” She put emphasis on the word ‘Granger,’ yet her voice was still kind and
soft.*

*“I..I..I don’t know what you are talking about,” Hermione lied. “I think it’s time for me to
go, good day Madam Suddusk.” She made to turn around; trying to hide her humiliation, but Madam
Suddusk stopped her.*

*“I think you do know what I’m talking about,” and with that, the woman grabbed Hermione’s arm
and turned her around to face her. Hermione was quivering, tears threatened to spill and she didn’t
know why.*

*“Alright, my name is Hermione Granger, and I did lie to you about Hogwarts. And I haven’t a
clue about anything in the Magic world,” Hermione confessed. “And I just wanted to learn some of it
myself, so I thought I’d come here and teach it to myself.”*

*“And that’s perfectly alright, dear, I’m not mad or anything, just curious,”*

*“How did you know who I was?”
Madam Suddusk smiled, “Your eyes, they are a Granger’s eyes. Did you think I couldn’t tell? I
recognized you from the start, and you were absolutely terrible at trying to fake you knew the
Wizarding world. Now, let’s see here, how old are you”*

*“Fourteen.”*

*“Alright, that would make you a fourth year, so let’s see what we can make of you, shall
we?”*

*“You mean you are going to help me?”*

*“That’s exactly what it means.”*

*“Thank you, Madam Suddusk,” Hermione whispered.*

*The woman waved her arm and said, ”Please, call me Clarence, and we got work to do.”*

*[END OF FLASHBACK]*

From that day, Clarence had helped Hermione whenever possible in her training. She had once been
a teacher at Hogwarts herself, and had great teaching skills. In a few short years, Hermione had
learned what regular Hogwarts students took 6 years in learning. She could do about any charm you
asked her to, and could tell you the counter-charm, when the charm was used, and some history about
it. That’s what they would do, since Hermione was a fast learner, they would research a charm,
learn its history and how to use it. Then, Hermione would practice it. Sometimes, Clarence would
give Hermione an oral quiz, just to make sure she remembers everything. When other people were
there and it was busy, Clarence would give Hermione an essay or something and have her research on
her own and come and check on her every once in a while; other times, when the library was empty or
not too many people, Clarence would help unless she had something else to do. They had grown quite
close, so Hermione had decided to ask Clarence what she thought of her idea first. They had talked
about Hogwarts, and Clarence said she was sorry she couldn’t make it as fun for Hermione learning
magic as it was for her. So, today, Hermione was going to see what she thought. Taking some floo
powder and tossing it into the fireplace, Hermione watched the green flames erupt and stepped in,
“Madam Suddusk’s Volumes” and she disappeared, her Hogwarts letter clutched in her hand.


++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*Look,
If you had one shot,
Or one opportunity
To seize everything you ever wanted-
One moment
Would you capture it
Or just let it slip?*

*You better lose yourself in the music,
The moment
You own it, you better never let it go
You only get one shot,
Do not miss your chance to blow
This opportunity comes once in a lifetime
Yo
“Lose Yourself” EMINEM*

** ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


She landed with a thump. “Uuhh, I can’t wait until I take my Apparition test.”

“Of course you can’t, but you will, and you will pass it with distinction!” A voice said
proudly. Hermione looked and saw Clarence grinning her way, a quill in one hand, and the other was
going through a book, making sure there weren’t any damages. Hermione bounced over to her and
returned her grin.

“Of course I will,” she said, smirking, “I am so incredibly brilliant, why should I get nervous
about some petty test that I will be taking in a few days? Instead of getting uptight, why don’t I
just go throw a party and say ’hell, bring it on.’?” Hermione said sarcastically, rolling her
eyes.

“Sure, why not? I’ll write the invitations.” Clarence said happily, grabbing a notebook, she
started listing name. “Okay, how about Connie, one of my good friends, oh and she has a son, a
little older than you but a fine dancer, maybe I could get you two to dance…”

Rolling her eyes again, Hermione said, ”Yeah right, I was joking, I’m so nervous and excited, I
just don’t know how to feel!”

Clarence laughed, “I know you were, honey, but you needn’t be nervous. Trust me, you will pass
with distinction. You’re loads more prepared than I was, and I passed!” They both laughed and
Hermione came to sit by Clarence, Hogwarts letter still clutched in one hand. “What do you got
there, Hermione?” Clarence said, pointing to her hand.

Hermione glanced down at her hand and remembered why she had come in the first place,
nervousness settling in her stomach. How in the hell was she suppose to say this? “Well…it’s just a
Hogwarts letter. You know, new school year coming up.”

Clarence frowned; she knew how much it hurt Hermione when she got her letter because she
couldn’t go to school. “Yeah, well just think, we will have a big year set up for us! Seventh year
is always important. Maybe I can get my hands on a N.E.W.T.S. test and see what you’d get!”

Hermione smiled, nodding, then sighed. “I was thinking about Hogwarts a few weeks ago,” she
started, “so they take exchange students? Like if someone went to another school for their other
years of schooling? Would they still take them?” Hermione asked innocently.

“I’m sure they would, as long as they have the education. If they are too behind, they might
have to go a year younger than they are supposed to take.” Clarence answered thoughtfully. “I’m
sure they’d give them a test to see what they know.”

“Oh, do you think I’d pass that test?” Hermione asked with a smile.

“Of course you would! You know things I never learned until *after* Hogwarts, girl”

“What sort of test is it?”

“Well, I think each teacher would test the person, probably orally, and give them their marks
and see if they measure up to par. If they do, then they get to go in that year; if they are too
behind, then they simply go back a year. Why are you so interested in Hogwarts?” Clarence asked,
wrinkling her forehead curiously.

Hermione shrugged, “I was just wondering, you know. Just a little food for thought I guess.”
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, but still she pressed on, “I was thinking, maybe if I knew as
much as all the other soon-to-be seventh years, and if I was good enough, then maybe I could…well,
you know, if my parents said okay and since I did get a letter, you know, maybe I would be one of
the seventh years this year at Hogwarts,” Hermione finished awkwardly. Looking up, she waited on
baited breath for Clarence’s reaction.

“You want to go to Hogwarts this year?” Clarence asked, Hermione couldn’t tell if she was for or
against it.

“Yes!” Hermione breathed, “I’ve wanted to go since I was 11!”

“You do know all the opposition you’d face, the Granger name isn’t very popular among witches
and wizards, as you know.”

“Yes, I do know that, but I’m going to learn, not make best friends! I don’t want the rest of
the world to stop me from going to school! I don’t deserve not to have an education from school,
and I don’t think my name should be held against me!” Hermione said, angrily.

“Hey honey, chill out, I’m not the one you have to convince. You know what you will face, but
you’re a brave and courageous girl, and I think, no I know you would be able to handle it. I think
it’s a great idea. You need to show the world there are still Grangers out there that aren’t going
to take any crap from anyone. That you’re not dead to the world and still have a voice in the
system.” She hugged Hermione tightly.

“You really think I can handle it?”

“I know you can.”

“Now I just have to ask my parents…”

She waited until after dinner to bring the subject up. After she cleared the table off and did
dishes, she went into the living room, where her parents were about to watch some TV. “Hey, I was
wondering if we could talk.” Hermione asked, standing in the middle of the room awkwardly.

“Of course dear, what is it?” Her mother asked, looking slightly worried. “Is something
wrong?”

“No! Of course not. I just, well I got my Hogwarts letter today and well,” Hermione glanced at
her parents’, noticing the glance they shared, but nevertheless, she pressed on,” Yeah well, I was
wondering what you guys thought about me maybe attending Hogwarts this year, you know, it would be
my last year, and I’ve worked really hard the last couple years. I want to be able to graduate from
a real Wizarding School.” She looked up again, there was that glance again.

Her father sighed, “Hermione, you know that’s not a good idea. That would just lead to trouble.
Let Madam Suddusk continue to teach you, you don’t need to go to Hogwarts.” His voice was flat, and
Hermione scowled.

“I think your father’s right, honey, it’s for the best,” Her mother said, tonelessly.

“It’s not fair. I think I should be able to go! I don’t care what in the hell my last name is, I
am not going to be held back because of it! I didn’t do anything wrong! If they can’t like me for
me, then that’s their problem. I know the opposition I will face, but I know I can handle it.
Clarence thinks it’s a good idea. It will show everyone Grangers aren’t quitters, and that there
are still some of out there!” Her parents wouldn’t understand. There was no way they would ever
know the thrill of waving a wand and turning a cat into a candle, or making a book across the room
fly straight to you. They were Muggles, so were their parents, and their parents, there hasn’t been
a magical person in the family for years. She wasn’t going down without a fight.

“Watch your language young lady and, I said no and I’m not going to argue with you!” Hermione
could hear the finality in her father’s voice, yet still she wasn’t done.

“I don’t see why I can’t go! It’s my life. If I want to go, I know what I’ll face, but I know
I‘m strong enough to handle it! I am seventeen years old, I think I can make my own decisions!” But
nothing was going to work, she couldn’t persuade her parents, they were a rock. And as she ran into
her room that night, she promised herself she would be going to Hogwarts this year, there wasn’t a
doubt about it. She only had a few weeks to come up with a plan.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


*She spends her days up in the north park,
Watching the people as they pass.
And all she wants is just a little piece of this dream, is that too much to ask?
With a safe home, and a warm bed, on a quiet little street.
All she wants is just that something to hold onto, that's all she needs.*

*“If I Could Be Like That” 3 DOORS DOWN*


++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

AN: This is the first story I’ve posted here so PLEASE review and tell me if you like it or
not!

Thankx Archie



2. But They Will Find Out
-------------------------

A/N Hey, I want to thank everyone for their reviews! They're realy appreciated! And I want
to thank Kaci for being so cool and posting this on her account, you are so awesome! Also, someone
asked if Hermione was British or American, because she sounded American. She is British, and after
she said that, I looked over my story and realized the characters do sound more American than
Birish. I am American myself, so I just made the dialogue the way I would talk. I want to apolagize
for that, but I can't really go back and change 9 chapters can I? Plus I don't know how
they word things in Britian anyway, so just bare [or is it bear? I dunno] with me on this!

Also, keep in mind that this is how I think the characters would be if there was no Voldemort,
so they are a little more carefree! BUT I am not saying that there is no Voldemort, so you'll
just have to keep reading to find out if there is! And once again, thanks to everyone for reading
this and I hope you like this chapter!

*Recap!*

*“…Two rivalries will face each other…for centuries and centuries to come…”*

*“Harry…Harry…HARRY JAMES POTTER!!!”*

*“…Their hate for each other mounting to an unmistakable high, surcease of all limits and no
boundaries…*

*“Alright, my name is Hermione Granger, and I did lie to you about Hogwarts. And I haven’t a
clue about anything in the Magic world,” Hermione confessed. “And I just wanted to learn some of it
myself, so I thought I’d come here and teach it to myself.”*

*“…But hope will rely on the alliance between the two of them when they reach an understanding
despite all the opposition they will face from each other and others…”*

*…and lastly and probably most important…never trust, talk, think, or associate in any way
with a Granger…*

*But this year will be different…*

*…she promised herself she would be going to Hogwarts this year, there wasn’t a doubt about
it…*

Now, ON WITH THE BLOODY STORY!


**Chapter 2 “But They Will Find Out”**

Harry walked along the streets of Diagon Alley with Draco Malfoy and Ron Weasley. They were
suppose to be getting their supplies for the upcoming year, but somehow got off track after
visiting Wealsey’s Wizard Wheezes, a joke shop ran by Ron’s older twin brothers, Fred and George.
Now, instead of carrying parcels of items from their school lists, they have bags filled with
sweets and joke merchandise, and were heading to Quality Quidditch Supplies. The warm sunlight
beating down on the trio as they made their way to their favorite shop.

“…now I have no clue what we are going to do, Draco, with the big bad Head Boy on our asses, our
days as criminals just well may be numbered as we know it…,” Ron was saying, in a fit of
laughter.

“As that old bat might say," Draco began in a scratchy voice that was imitating their old
Divination professor, "*‘Alas, boys, t’was your fate thus thy day thee be born. I swear on
my fake tea leaves and styrofoam crystal ball, I saw your fate written in the stars. Three
troublesome smartass boys such as yourselves were to end your life in crime at the age of 17, for
Harry Potter was to be named Head Boy, and t‘is my fate to be rowing down a stream and fall
overboard and give a high-pitched scream, much like a banshee. Five days after this tragic
accident, I will be found chewing on my knickers, then as I am a complete fraud, I have no money to
buy another pair. Ten days forward, I will be eaten by a malicious looking creature, somewhat the
shape of a polar bear, and that, my pupils, is how the polar bear will cease to exist in this
horrible world.”*

Returning to this normal voice, Draco added in a singsong voice, “And that’s how the polar bear
died!” He gave a low bow to the ground and heaving a deep sigh to add drama. The three boys howled
with laughter, earning a few looks from passers-by.

When they finally contained their laughing, Harry asked, “Now, when you say *‘tragic
accident’* you mean joyous occasion , right?:” And the boys once again erupted in laughter.

“You got that right.”

Draco pretended to look affronted, then said in a mock-scold voice, “Now, Potter, is that anyway
to talk about one of your professors? You are Bloody Head Boy after all? Is that the kind of
language I taught you? Where did I go wrong?”

Harry sighed, “You’re right Draco, I can’t believe I said such a thing wrong, let me rephrase
that ‘Now, when you say ‘*tragic accident’* and you’re talking in the same context of that old
senile bitch, you do mean thee most joyous occasion of the whole bloody fucking century right?’”
Harry said, standing up straight and trying to look like a boy that just stepped out of a Cambridge
School, one finger held up in a “eureka” gesture, with the other hand behind his back. They broke
out into laughter once again and started down the street, heading towards Quality Quidditch
Supplies.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++


Hermione sighed; this was so frustrating.

How could her parents not let her go to Hogwarts? She was sick of always being the model student
her parents wanted her to be. She never stepped out of line. But of course, that didn’t mean she
just sat on the sidelines either. In school, she definitely wasn’t popular; she had no friends and
focused solely on her studies. No one seemed to like her because she was a “goody-two-shoes” or
“Little-Miss-Know-It-All.” Of course, those were the rather nice names she had gotten from her
peers. There were others, such as “Bushy-Haired-Bookworm” and “No-Life-Granger.”

But Hermione wouldn’t let their childishness discourage her , because she was a fighter. A
fighter for what she believed in. She didn’t go way out on the limb and take drastic action like
others, but she would stand her ground.

Hermione was no push-over at any rate. She was proud, and despite what her classmates said about
her, despite what mental/emotion abuse she had been caused by their constant teasing, she would
succeed. She would make it out in the world, whereas, others in her class wouldn’t know which way’s
up when they get out in the cold, cruel world.

She needed a plan, that was all there was to it. Besides, that was what Hermione Granger did,
she planned, and then she took action. Her parents were out of the house right now, so she grabbed
her notebook and sat down on her bed, bringing her knees up to her chest and opening a fresh
page.

Grabbing a pencil from her nightstand, she stared at the blank page, which was mirroring her
mind right now…blank. *‘Ok, think, Granger, what is your objective? Go to Hogwarts this year. Now
what’s your motive? Um…well…’* She growled in frustration again. Why was it so important to her
to go to Hogwarts this year? *‘I’ve always wanted to go.’* Yeah, but she never voiced it so
strongly, she never asked, never even entertained the idea. Sure, she dreamed about it, after
pictures Clarence had shown her after she pestered her about it for an hour. Pictures could never
replace the real thing though.

Finally, she came up with a suitable answer, it was short and to the point, she was so sure this
was it she even voiced it out loud in a soft whisper, as if she might wake someone up if she spoke
any louder, “It’s my last chance.”

With that thought in mind, she became more confident, and tried once again to come up with a
plan. For 35 minutes she considered her options, but still nothing came. Sighing again this time in
defeat, she started to doodle on the margins of her paper, drawing random things: a wand, witch’s
hat and cauldron, and a spell book. Then, as if on its own, her hand began to glide across the
page, words pouring out of the lead almost as if it was connected to her heart:

*What gives them the right?
How did this power become theirs?
To judge before knowing,
To run things their way.
Why is it me they’re against?
How did I get this role to play?
To be the voice unheard,
To mean so little in their world.
How is it my fault?
Why am I to blame?
To be the one they despise,
To be looked upon like dirt.
Why not try to know me?
Why can’t I just fit in?*

Hermione suddenly stopped when she realized what she had just written. ‘Why can’t I just fit
it?’ She stared at the line in horror, why had she written that? She didn’t want to fit in. She
won’t be just another face in the crowd.

She refused, yet she had just written she wanted to ‘just fit in.’ Writing was her escape. She
could be herself and write whatever she was feeling, and she had learned a lot while reading over
her poems.

They didn’t rhyme, they were just words. They were her most inter-thoughts and feelings. Her
parents had always told her she was an excellent writer, as well as all her language arts teachers.
They had always been impressed with her writing skills and the effort.

But she didn’t’ write to impress anyone, she wrote because then she could analyze her thoughts
and feelings. Shaking her head, she peered back down to the pencil on the paper and continued:

*No one gives them the right,
They are too insecure and scared
To find the truth in people.
They don’t have power over me,
They just like to think they do.
They are too stubborn to learn,
So they assume they are all knowledgeable.
I am a Granger, and I am proud,
I am courageous enough to face them.
It isn’t my fault, only theirs.
They blame me because
They don’t want to see the truth.
They fear change, and like to feel
In control and like they can stop me.
I refuse to fit in, and I will fight back.
I will face all opposition and I will come out victorious.
They don’t know me.
They don’t know what I’m capable of.
But they will find out…*

Hermione grinned as she wrote her last words, and a plan started forming in her mind…


++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Back. Slip pass Ron. Twist and shoot. *Swish.* “That’s game!” Harry cried with a huge grin
on his face, looking at his two defeated friends. “Want to have another go?”

“No fucking way, you said we could eat after that game!”

“What, Weasley, afraid you might get beat again?”

“Hey shut up, Draco, in case you didn’t notice, you just lost the last three games right along
with me!” Ron shot back, a smirk on his face.

Draco pretended not to hear him and turned towards Harry, “Are we going to play another game, or
listen to your little bitch boy cry and whine all day?” he asked with a fake sigh.

Harry just grinned. “Frankly, I say we clear all this up on the court. Another game of
twenty-one, winner, a.k.a. ME, wins 5 galleons from each of the losers, a.k.a. my little bitch boy
and yourself.” Harry said, bouncing the basketball between his legs and then shooting a
three-pointer, banking it in off the backboard.

“Please, Potter,” Ron said, coming up guard him, “The only reason you’ve won is because I’m
hungry and I don’t function right on an empty stomach!” Ron made a grab for the ball, but Harry
turned quickly, swiftly keeping the ball out of his reach. Not swift enough though, because a
second later, Draco stole the ball and made a jumper shot.

“Ron, if you only function right when you’re not hungry, then sorry to tell ya buddy, but then
you doomed for eternity!” Harry shot back, and Ron just scoffed, after rebounding the ball, he
threw it hard at Harry’s chest. Harry just laughed.

“Shut it, Potter, before I make you!”

“You beat me, Ron, and I will buy you dinner.” Harry countered, while passing the ball to Draco
to shoot from the foul line.

“You will be taking me out, buddy, and I will order the most expensive thing on the menu, and
then a hamburger to go with it.”

“You’re on, bitch boy.”

“Make that two hamburgers.”

“Hey, why don’t you two sissies shut it before you get your asses whipped.”

Draco called, making a beautiful free-throw.

“Stay out of it, punk.” Ron called as Harry tipped Draco’s next shot, successfully bringing him
back to zero. The game went on, each of the boys playing vigorously, and working up a sweat.

Twenty minutes later, Harry made the winning basket. Ron fell to his knees while Draco cursed
under his breath. Harry just smirked at his two friends, and said while spinning the basketball in
his hands, “Nice game, I’m feeling kinda lucky; do you want to have another, double or
nothing?”

“Fuck you, Potter. Here’s your stinking money, now let’s go get some bloody food, I’m starving.”
Draco said, leaning over with his hands on his knees. Harry wiped the sweat from his brow, and took
in a few slow breaths to get his heart rate back to normal.

“Alright, let’s head inside and see what’s for dinner.”

Ron looked as though he might break out in the Halleluiah Chorus any second, and said, “You
know, Potter, that just might be the smartest thing you’ve said all day; let’s eat!” The three boys
made their way across the yard to the house, all in a good mood, despite their tiredness.

Harry stepped out of his bathroom and into his room, a towel wrapped around his waist, fresh
from the shower. After getting dressed, he headed out his door and made his way through his
“Chillin’ Room” and down the hall. Going downstairs and entering the kitchen, he got a soda from
the refrigerator and sat down at the bar with Ron, the two boys waiting on Draco to get out of the
shower, then they was ready to head back upstairs and play video games for the rest of the
night.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++

She had her plan. It had taken a few days for her to come up with it completely, but the main
part was that she had some sort of theory on how she would take action. She went over the plan in
her head. *‘First, Clarence said she would go to Diagon Alley and collect all my supplies I will
be needing, and she will fit me for my robes herself, then take my sizes in and get them’*

Then she will need to make sure she has everything packed and ready to go by the end of August,
which was soon approaching. Clarence had already owled the headmaster, and she had her train ticket
tucked safely away in her top drawer. Clarence had already explained about how to get on the
platform, and Hermione wasn’t too worried about that.

Also, her parents were oblivious to her plan, so she needed to keep everything low-key. She had
confided in Clarence about her argument with her parents, and after much persisting, Clarence gave
in and agreed to help her, despite being against her parents’ will. Hermione was going to leave all
her things at Madam Sunddusk’s Volumes the night before so it would be easily accessible and so she
wouldn’t delay by wasting time trying to get her trunk out of the house without her parents knowing
so.

September 1st was on a Sunday, so her parents would be at home, but they had to spend a short
while at the office the day before for a short convention, so that would buy her enough time to get
her trunk out of the house and get all the details sorted out.

But it was only August 21st, and she had something else to worry about….her Apparation test that
was going to take place the very next day!

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Harry, your father will be going into the Ministry today, are you going or not?”

Harry’s mother, Lily Potter, asked him during breakfast. She looked at him expectantly.

“I wasn’t planning on it, but if he wants me to, I guess I can,” Harry replied, looking over at
his father at the head of the table.

“I wouldn’t mind a bit of company, but we better get going.” his father said, laying down the
Daily Prophet and standing up. Harry got up too, stretching and after eating the last of his toast,
he and his father apparated out of the Potter House and into the Ministry Of Magic.

Sometimes the Ministry wasn’t all that bad, but a lot of the time, Harry didn’t fancy going
because it was boring. There had been a few incidents, one of which included a man trying to
transfigure himself into a toilet in order to escape punishment while running down a corridor, that
had been interesting. But that only resulted in a wet and messy floor, and the wizard was caught
anyway, so it was pretty stupid really, amusing, yet stupid.

Harry followed his father into the lift, the golden grilles slid closed behind them with a soft
crash, and they started to rise upwards. Once they reached Level Five, they headed out and Harry
followed his father towards the Department of International Magical Cooperation, where his father
was to attend a meeting. Harry wasn’t allowed to attend the meeting; of course, it was nothing he
found remotely interesting either, so you could say he didn’t mind in the least.

“Harry, why don’t you hurry along to the Portkey Office and give this to Hugh Donaldson,” He
handed Harry a scroll of parchment, “and ask him if he can have that portkey to Bulgaria by
noon.”

Harry nodded and headed back towards the lift and then went to Level Six, where the Portkey
Office was found. Four memos flew passed his ear as he made his way down the long corridor. There
were plaques that read the name of the offices on the doors as he passed, and he noticed an older
looking woman standing with a young brown-haired girl making their way down the corridor in front
of him; he caught a few words of their conversation:

“I’m telling you, Hermione, there is no reason to be worried. You will do fine, trust me!” the
older woman was saying, but the girl still looked slightly apprehensive. “You’ve prepared and there
is nothing stopping you. We will be apparating back to the library before you know it. This test
will be a cinch for you.”

Harry grinned slightly; the young girl must be taking her Apparation Test. Harry had passed in
easily just a few weeks ago, and he decided to help the old woman out and sped up his pace a little
so he was walking next to the young girl. She didn’t look familiar, but he was sure if she had gone
to Hogwarts, he would’ve remembered her.

“I know, but I still can’t help but be a bit nervous! This all just seems to be happening so
fast! Plus...I’m not too sure how they will…well…react, I guess. So I guess that scares me a little
bit too. I mean, what if something goes horribly wrong and-”

“Excuse me,” Harry said politely, giving her a small smile. Both the girl and older woman looked
his way. “I’m sorry, but I kinda overheard you. I am assuming you are about to take your Apparation
Test?” He asked, the girl nodded. “Well, I just took it myself a few weeks ago, and I just want to
tell you, it isn’t as hard as it seems. I mean, it is quite difficult, but by the sound of it, you
will pass easily. If you’re nervous and uptight about it, it will just make it all the more
difficult, trust me. Just relax and it will be over in no time.” Harry finished, grinned at her
again encouragingly.

She smiled back a shy smile, and replied, “I hope you’re right. I’m always like this though,
before any type of test. I’ve never done anything like this before, so I can’t seem to keep the
butterflies under control.”

Harry laughed, and shook his head slightly as they stopped in from of the door that had a plaque
saying APPARATION TEST CENTER. “Three main pointers I can give you are: concentrate but be relaxed,
otherwise you’ll end up getting splinched or worse. But don’t get too overly confident, I know a
few people that went into the test a little too cocky and had to take it over again because they
apparated fifteen miles too far south. Also, don’t try things too fast. My friend Ron wasn’t
listening to the witch instructing him and tried to disappear too fast. He finally just got his
license last week. Keep those pointers in mind, and it will be a lot easier. You’ll do fine, trust
me, and by the way good luck,” and with a last smile and wave, they parted.

*********************************

Despite the boy’s encouragement and Clarence’s assurances, Hermione was still nervous as she
waited in line with Clarence. Not only was she filled with nervousness about Apparating, but also,
what were they going to say when she told them her name was Hermione Granger?

Well she didn’t have to wait too long for her answer. When she told her name to the secretary,
the woman stopped suddenly and the whole room went quiet, as if someone had pushed the mute
button.

Hermione felt suddenly even more uncomfortable, and shifted under everyone’s gaze. Clarence
heaved a sigh and said not so subtly, “Excuse me, but we have things that need to get done, so, if
you could please, finish up this form and point us towards an instructor.” This seemed to shake
everyone out of their reverie, but she was still cast uneasy glances and some downright rude
stares.

*‘Oh, this is ridiculous’*, Hermione thought as she made her way to a secluded room.
*‘They act as if I carry some sort of deadly disease!’* recalling the way everyone seemed to
split like the Red Sea when she passed, watching her make her way to this room all by her lonesome.
A minute later, a middle-aged woman came in with a clipboard in one hand and her wand in the other.
Hermione could tell there was tension, but she tried to ignore it and act as if she had not a care
in the world.

Finally, after a few minutes, the woman acknowledged her presence and began speaking in a curt
voice about Apparation and how it is done. She spoke of the dangers and consequences of Apparating
wrong and getting into trouble.

Hermione listen to every word, even though none of it was new to her, Clarence had gone over it
at least a dozen times over the past few weeks, but still, Hermione listened attentively. The woman
was brief, and a lot sooner than Hermione had thought, she was demanding her to try and Apparate to
a field they used for this specific purpose, some 15 miles away.

Hermione nodded and gave a slight gulp. With that boy’s advice in mind and replaying everything
Clarence had told her, her last thought was, *‘Here goes nothing,’* and with a small ‘pop’ she
disappeared.

**Ok, so what do you think? Like? Hate? LOVE? LET ME KNOW!!!! I will try to get the next
chapter up as soon as I can! Just review and I will love you forever! So, rock on, peace out, and
stay righteous!!!**



3. It Was An Accident
---------------------

**Hey, Archie here, what’s up? Right, first off, I want to thank everyone for their reviews,
they really mean a lot to me. Also, a lot of you mentioned something about Romeo and Juliet. I have
never read that story, so if you are expecting these events be similar, I wouldn’t hold my breath.
I don’t even know the story, and when I came up with the idea for PVGR, I had no clue that it
resembled Shakespeare’s play. So no, I do not plan to kill them off in the end or whatever. It’s
kinda funny that I’ve never read any of his plays, but I use his quotes a few times in my story, I
just realized that. Anyway, moving on. I’m sorry about all the profanities, but I just think they
kinda work for the personalities I gave the characters. Also, someone mentioned something about the
boys playing basketball in the magic world. Remember, Lily is alive, so don’t be surprised if they
have more Muggle lifestyle than in the books. In my opinion, I think she would be proud of her
Muggle heritage, so she raises her son in a Muggle atmosphere as well as a magical
atmosphere.**

**As for other relationships, I dunno yet. And the whole Voldemort issue….well you’ll just have
to read and find out. I’m not even completely sure about that. We’ll just have to see how this pans
out and what my mind can come up with!**

**This chapter may seem as if I’m rushing things, but believe me, I’m not. Later, you’ll be
begging me to speed things up. I need to go at a slow pace in the beginning to create the kind of
background I’m looking for. There will be plenty of Harry and Hermione later on.**

**I tried to post this this morning, but it got all f’d up, so that’s why it showed I had
posted.**

**I think that’s everything, so read and review! Enjoy!**

**Chapter 3 “It Was An Accident!”**

She couldn’t believe what she had just done. Hermione has no clue what had come over her; what
had possessed her to act like that. She had never been so bold with a complete stranger in that
way. What she had done was so incredibly shocking, not only to herself, but to him as well. She
didn’t even know him! She was just so…happy! Everyone in the close vicinity was in danger of her
affection, so it wasn’t as if she just singled him out or anything. But he had given her some
advice and helped her pass her Apparation test, so a hug was slightly understandable…but a
kiss!

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Wow. That was…unexpected. What in hell had just happened? He was just an innocent by-stander,
simply happy she had passed. Ok, sure he might have enjoyed that hug a little more than he
should’ve, being strangers and all, but damn! He was happy for her, after she hugged him, he was
even happier for himself. Oh, he had never had such a wonderful time at the Ministry before, even
counting the time he had met the seeker for the Transylvania Quidditch team! The second their lips
made contact, however soft and brief it had been, Harry was sure he had died and gone Heaven. It
was a complete accident, he knew, but a boy could dream couldn’t he? A simple brush of the lips
because they happen to bump heads, so maybe it wasn’t qualified as a “kiss,” but it was close
enough! His first ever kiss (yes, he was going to live in denial about it being an accident for the
time being) was with a complete stranger. Hermione, that’s what she had told him her name was.
Hermione. Very nice name. Unique, very pretty, much like herself. Wow, since when had any name, or
girl for that matter, ever been “pretty?” to him? Ok, this was just stupid, why was he even
thinking about this? Who cares really? So what if they had simply had a slight brush of the lips,
if you can even call it that? *‘What! No, it can be called that, it was that! I refuse to believe
differently. Way t go, Potter, telling your mind to think with your mind, you make no sense at
all!’* Harry sighed, what it hell was he thinking? It meant nothing; he didn’t even know this
girl. There was a simple explanation for this, she was a little overjoyed when she passed and,
since he had given her advice, she had given him a little hug, *‘More like tried to rape me in
the corridor…not that I’d mind…oh shut-up you sick pervert.’* Maybe she was just really outgoing
and hugged strangers all the time? Maybe this wasn’t so weird, just extremely confusing…

Ok, he just needed to sort this out, meaning Ron and Draco needed to be over here NOW! Second
opinions were always a good thing.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was an accident. What had come over her? Why couldn’t she just keep her bloody hands to her
bloody self? Aarrghgh, this was so frustrating! She didn’t even know him for God’s sake! But it was
an accident. His name was Harry. Accident. He was really nice to her. It meant absolutely nothing.
He probably has a girlfriend. At that thought, a feeling of jealously settled in the pit of her
stomach. But hey, it was an accident, so it’s not important. Of course he had a girlfriend, look at
how handsome he was! *‘Why do you care, remember, accident…..his girlfriend probably looks like a
super model…..Why am I still on about this?’* she thought furiously as she and Clarence made
their way into the library, *‘It happened an hour ago!’* And besides: It. Was. An.
A-C-C-I-D-E-N-T! A simple fumble. Something that was just exchanged between two complete strangers,
that happen to find out each other’s names *after* The Incident, no make The *Accident*.
Sounds better; incident doesn’t imply the act in question was an *accident*. Besides, it
wasn’t even a kiss, just a simple
*‘Opps,-my-lips-happen-to-touch-yours-for-the-briefest-of-seconds-and-it-happen-to-feel-nice kind
of ACCIDENTS.’* Nothing less, definitely nothing more. Ok, maybe it was
*Opps,-my-lips-happen-to-touch-yours-for-the-briefest-of-seconds-and-it-happen-to-feel-quite-nice,
no wait GREAT kind of ACCIDENTS!’ ‘What are you saying, Granger? Did you enjoy it?’ ‘You know, I
think you should really just shut your month, you know, it’s none of your business.’ ‘Ok, just
listen to what you just thought, moron. Shut my mouth? What mouth? And it’s none of my business? We
are the same bloody person, idiot!’ ‘I’m not making much sense, am I?’ ‘Go figure, Einstein.’*
This was incredibly stupid, Hermione decided. There was nothing else for it. Complete accident.
*‘But you liked it.’* A stupid misunderstanding. *‘One that you didn’t mind having.’ ‘I said
it was an accident!’ ‘And I said it was one accident you enjoyed.’*

“I don’t even know the boy! It was a complete accident for God’s sake!” Hermione suddenly burst
out angrily. Clarence looked towards Hermione, her eyes wide with surprise from her outburst. They
hadn’t said anything on the way home, so Hermione had no clue what Clarence thought about the
situation, *‘Correction: Accident.’*

“Hermione! This is a library!” Clarence said shrilly, but Hermione knew it wasn’t a
reprimand.

“I’m sorry; just a little frustrated I guess,”

Clarence nodded her head in approval and waited for Hermione to speak. When Hermione remained
silent, she decided to take things upon herself. “Hermione, you have every right to feel a little
frustrated, but let’s not forget you did pass your test, so let’s not let that little incident ruin
this for you.”

“Accident. Not incident. It was an *accident*,” Hermione corrected her.

Clarence raised her eyebrows in a questioning gesture, and asked, “And do I believe in
“accidents,” Hermione?” Hermione remained silent. Of course she didn’t, Clarence had always told
her that. She said what ever happens, there is always some sort of reason, despite how twisted and
messed up it may be. And usually, Hermione agreed whole-heartedly, but this was special
circumstances dammit!

“Maybe I’ll get lucky and just never see him again, think I’ll try to avoid the embarrassment at
all costs. I suppose it *is* a big world out there, so the chance’s of ever seeing him again
is slim,” Hermione stated with a sigh. She glanced at Clarence and didn’t miss the look she was
sporting now. “What?” Hermione asked, with slight indignity.

Clarence just laughed at Hermione’s expression, “Of course you will see him again, Hermione. He
probably attends Hogwarts, and though the school is big, you won’t miss him,” Clarence said
matter-of-factly. Then she turned towards her desk and started making her way to it.

Hermione strode up to catch up with her, and then went on, she wasn’t done yet. “But how do you
know if he attends Hogwarts? I mean, he could be older and maybe just got out of school. Or, maybe
he goes to another school, like that Durmstrang school you’ve told me about.’

“He’s seventeen, and he attends Hogwarts, I know this for a fact, Hermione.” Clarence said
absently, searching through her drawers, aimlessly.

Hermione glared at her accusingly. “What? Do you know him? It didn’t seem like you had any more
of a clue who he was than I did.” She retorted.

Sighing, Clarence finally shut her drawers and looked at Hermione. She had a slight wary look to
her, and she didn’t want to let Hermione in on exactly what “Harry” this gentleman they had run in
to was. “Hermione, you have that examination at Hogwarts in 2 days, shouldn’t you be studying and
preparing for it?” Clarence asked, raising her eyebrows again.

With that proclamation, Hermione gasped and a look of distinct horror appeared on her face, as
her eyebrows shot up, disappearing in her bangs and her hands flew up to cover her mouth. It was
apparent she had forgotten, probably because of recent events. “Oh my God, how could I have
forgotten? It’s just 2 days away! I-I can’t believe it! I must study. Today. Now. I need to go to
the library. I must prepare. Anything. No, everything. I must look over all my notes!” Hermione
said this breathlessly in quick succession as she began to franticly pace in front of Clarence,
biting her lip and looking suddenly worried.

“Hermione, you are in a library, why don’t you go look over you charms notes and I will be back
later to see how you are doing?” Clarence asked, shaking her head. She knew how uptight Hermione
could be and how anxious she was about Hogwarts. It did the trick; Hermione nodded her head and
then rushed to the back of the library to start looking over her notes, without a second thought to
who this mystery Harry was.

Hermione picked up her bag that was sitting neatly beside one of the back tables and took a few
of her notebooks out. Grabbing a pen from her bag too, she set to work, writing out definitions,
copying over notes again, and looking up references in books. She stayed there for an hour before
Clarence brought some food, which she quickly ate then was back to the textbooks and notes. She
needed to prepare!

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Ok. Let’s go over this one more time, just make sure we’re not missing anything.”

“You went to the Ministry with your father this morning…”

“Do we really need to start from the beginning?”

“Yes, just to make sure we got all our facts straight, just answer the damn question!”

“Yes.”

“They you go to the Level Six to do something for him in the Portkey Office…”

“Yes!”

“Then, you hear a girl and an old woman walking to down the hall, because she was about to take
her Apparation test-”

“And you offer the girl a few pointers and good luck on the test…”

“You already know all this,” Harry pointed out, heaving a sigh.

Ignoring his remark, his two friends pressed on. “She went in and took the test, and you saw her
come out, looking all happy and shit?”

Harry grinned slightly now, remembering how thrilled Hermione had looked. She was positively on
Cloud Nine. “Yeah, she looked completely overjoyed,” Harry said, looking dreamily off into space
with a silly grin on his face now.

His friends raised an eyebrow at each other and had to suppress from grinning. “Right. Now then
she jumps into your arms and snogs your brains out!” Ron said with a snicker.

“Yea-WHAT? No. No. No. It wasn’t anything like that, she just sort of hugged me and well,…we
kind of bumped heads,” Harry finished lamely with a shrug.

“Are you sure there was nothing more?” Draco asked, in a slight exasperated voice, and a roll of
his eyes.

“Yeah, it was just…,” Another shrug.

*Harry had went back to the Sixth Level after going back to his father, he was just waiting
around. Truth be told, he was slightly curious about that girl, she didn’t look familiar. So he was
just waiting, what for, he wasn’t sure. He just wanted to know if she had done well or not. He
didn’t have to wait too long, and he saw the girl emerge from the door with a grin that told him
exactly what the end result had been. Harry couldn’t help but grin as he watched her hug the old
woman, who looked quite pleased as well. The girl turned around and ran into an older man, but he
just wobbled a bit, and she gave him a grin and said a quick apology. She hadn’t seen him yet,
Harry decided. Surely she would say something. She started walking towards him, that huge grin
still on her face.* ‘She looks really cute’ *Harry thought with a grin still on his face.
‘*Wait. What? Did he just think a girl was cute?’ *He had to tell Ron and Draco about this,
they were still debating whether he was gay or not.* ‘She’s looking at me!’ *Sure enough, her
eyes fell on him and she gave him a huge hug. Harry’s eyebrows flew up, disappearing in his bangs
with slight shock, but then he returned the hug awkwardly,* ‘How in the hell were you suppose to
hug a girl?’ *he wondered because he never done anything like this before, but he began to relax
in the hug.* ‘Ok, she was kinda cute.’ *Her face turned towards his quickly and they bumped
heads. Harry felt her lips on his for the briefest of seconds, before he felt her rush out of his
arms, looking completely horror-struck. Whether it was because she realized she had hugged him, or
whether she felt them brush lips, he wasn’t sure. They both stood there, an awkward silence fell
over them.*

*“So, uh, I guess you passed then?” Harry asked, not sure what to say. He chanced a look at
her. Her look of horror passed into that grin again. He could feel his face start heating
up.*

*“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Her cheeks were red and she was stammering
slightly.*

*“I’m Harry by the way,” Harry said, returning her grin.*

*“Hermione,” She replied, sticking out her hand. Harry shook It, but was really thinking about
how much he would like to have one of her hugs again. He dismissed that thought quickly.*

*“Well, I wanted to say thanks for the advice. And I apologize for just…just…attacking you
like that! I don’t usually do that. I’m really sorry.” Hermione was blushing now even more now, and
still looking at the floor.*

*“Um…it’s alright, no serious damage right? Nothing wrong with a good ‘ole hug every now and
then.” Harry said, trying to keep his voice light, but he was still tingling all over.*

*“I…um…I’ve really got to go, thanks again. Goodbye,” And with that, Hermione, checks still
glowing in embarrassment, turned down the corridor. The old woman she had been with looked at him
for a second, as if trying to see something that wasn’t there. Harry stared back at the woman, not
sure if he should be feeling weird or not. He shuffled awkwardly, not sure why she was looking at
him. Then, the woman raised an eyebrow at him and gave him a small smile and let out a soft sigh.
She glanced down the hall towards Hermione then with one last look at him, she started down the
hall after the girl. Despite feeling a little disturbed under the strange woman’s gaze, Harry
couldn’t help the grin that he was sporting as he walked back to Level Five where his father
was.*

“So, what did you think of her then? Was she hot?” Draco’s voice pulled Harry out of his
reverie. Harry glanced up and saw both his friends looking at them expectantly.

“Er…what?” Harry managed.

Rolling his eyes, Ron shook his head, “God Harry, you are a fucking wall when it comes to girls!
Do you ever even notice what girls look like? Do you ever acknowledge whether they look good or
not?” Ron asked exasperated.

“Er…not really Ron, and before you say anything, I am NOT gay!”

“I dunno, Harry,” Draco piped up, “Longbottom gets more action than you! At least he’s been on a
date or two.”

“You know, it’s not exactly hard to get a date with Ginny Weasley,” Harry said in his defense,
*‘She’s a bloody walking piece of ass to half the guys at school…’* Harry thought bitterly.
Ginny had tried to get him a few times, but Harry couldn’t stand her. She may be Ron’s sister, but
even Ron didn’t have any respect for her.

“Good point,” Draco said fairly. Ron stayed quiet. It didn’t bother him really, when his sister
was mentioned like this, because he knew it was true. He knew some of the sneaky things she pulled,
and he didn’t like it one bit. As far as he was concerned, she wasn’t a part of the Weasley
Family.

“You never answered our question. What did you think of Hermione?” Ron asked suddenly.

Harry blushed slightly, and finally managed to get a few words out, “Well, she was…sorta
cute…”

“Sorta cute?” Draco said, looking a bit disappointed.

“Alright, fine! She is very pretty. She has long brown hair that’s bushy but it looks really
great on her. She’s a little shorter than I am. Not super skinny and all, but average. Her
eyes…they were all different colors of brown; I could definitely look at them all day. She wasn’t
wearing much makeup, but her face looked beautiful. She isn’t the kind of girl that someone would
stop and gawk at or anything. Her beauty was more, I dunno, like it catches you by surprise and you
can’t help but wonder where they make them like that, you know? Her smile lights up her whole face,
and after the whole incident, she looked extremely embarrassed and her face was all flushed. It
was…I dunno…” Harry finished, slightly amazed at what he had come up with, and had a small smile
playing on his lips as he looked up at his friends’ faces.

To say Ron and Draco were astonished was an understatement. They both had their mouths open in
shock and their eyes were wide. After the surprise wore off, Ron just grinned and shook Harry’s
hand vigorously. “See mate, I told you Harry wasn’t gay. He just lost himself for a while. I knew
some girl would catch his eye one of these days. I had hoped it would be sooner rather than later,
I mean, look Harry, I love you man, but if I catch you checking out my ass again like you did last
week and countless times before that, I will have you committed.” Ron and Draco burst into
laughter.

Harry feigned a look of complete horror and said in mock surprise, “You knew?! And I thought I
was being discreet!”

“Yea, he’s eyes on the back of his head, you know? But…it looks like you will be thinking of
Hermione’s ass now and forget all about ours’! I dunno, Harry, I’m starting to feel a bit jealous
of this Hermione. You barely know her and you say all this stuff about her; you’ve known me forever
and you never told me how beautiful I look! I’m affronted! How can you throw away what we have over
some girl?” Draco asked in mock astonishment and anger.

Harry just shook his head. “Look, I know you guys love to check out my ass all time, so don’t
pin this one on me! I say we settle this like men out on the court.”

“You’re on”

“As long as you sissies don’t mind losing.”

The three boys made their way outside. After a few energetic games of basketball, they all came
back inside, Ron and Draco took over the PlayStation 2 while Harry settled down with his
guitar.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

She was exhausted. She had been studying for what seemed like for hours, which she had. She
still had quite a bit to look over, but she still had a few days. Right now, she was dead tired.
All Hermione wanted to do was take a nice hot bubble bath and maybe watch a movie with her parents.
Her parents. She knew she would miss them terribly. Hermione had never been away from home so long
before. She had never been invited to sleepovers at a girl friend’s birthday slumber party, or
stayed up all night making s’mores in the microwave at a cousin’s house. She had stayed with her
grandma and grandpa a few times when her parents had to go away on a dentist convention or just a
weekend getaway on their anniversary. But this was different. This was huge. She would only be at
her grandparents’ for a few days at the most. Plus, she has known them her entire life! But
Hogwarts, she would know no one, and she would be there a lot longer than just a few days. It was
scary when she really thought about it. She had no clue what she was going to; she was just jumping
in the water, hoping she won’t sink, which is something she isn’t accustom to doing.

Hermione sighed as she lay on her bed. She really needed that damn bubble bath, maybe it would
relieve some of her stress. After another regretful sigh, she just put on a pair of pajama pants
and a t-shirt, and headed downstairs. She didn’t have that much more time with her parents and she
really wanted to make the most of it. She found her parents sitting at the table, finishing up
their dentist paper work.

“Hey, Mum, Dad. I was wondering if you two would like to play a few games or something. Make
tonight an unofficial game mania night?” Hermione asked, giving her parents a sweet smile. Her
father stretched while her mother stood up with a manila folder on hand and a few pens in the
other.

Mrs. Granger smiled at her daughter. “That sounds great, sweetie. Let me just put these up in
our room while you and your father go pick out a few games.” So Hermione and her dad went to the
game cupboard. After selecting a few games, they settled back into the kitchen, and Hermione
cleared off the table then went to get a clean dish rag to wipe it down. Her father got drinks for
everyone and put in a cd for background music. After Mrs. Granger came back in, they all gathered
around the table and started a game of Clue.

Hermione glanced around the table. They were well into their second game of Clue, and she was
having fun. It had been a while since the last time they all sat down and did something together as
a family. They used to play a few games of something every week, and always went out for ice cream
and a walk in the park all the time. Everyone had just been caught up with work and in her case,
magic, it had been too long since their last little outing. She missed those times with her
parents; they were some of her greatest treasures. Hermione had always been quite close to both of
her parents, and look at her now: she was deceiving them and would be gone soon. Hermione glanced
at her parents again. They had no idea what she was planning; they were just smiling and so
unsuspecting. They never had to suspect Hermione of any foul play. When she had a problem, they
could talk it out. She never had to keep something from them. *‘If they only knew…’*

The conversation was light; the atmosphere content. Everything was how it should be. Hermione
sighed inwardly. Everything was so damn perfect and she hated every minute of it. With another
sigh, she pushed all thoughts of Hogwarts and magic out of her mind and forced her brain to think
about what was happening now and trying to figure out what room Mr. Plum murdered Mr. Body in with
the candlestick. *‘It’s not the Kitchen, and Mum has the Ballroom, Hallway, and Conservatory.
Maybe I’ll check the Library, but what a dreadful place to murder someone! With all those books you
could get blood on. It should be illegal! Of course, it is murder, so it is illegal, but
STILL!’*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Oy Harry, why don’t you put that banjo down and play some PS2 with us? We started a new fighter
for training in the UFC game.”

“Yeah, if I hear you sing another song, I think I’m going to go mad! Take a break and beat this
fucking asshole Shamrock, we’ve been at it for what seems like bloody hours!” Draco called from the
couch they were sitting on in front of his TV in his “Chillin’ Room.”

Harry had most of the upstairs the house to himself. He had his room, with a bathroom connected,
then another room that he and his buddies deemed the “Chillin’ Room”, which is where there was a
pretty decent size TV with a few different game systems hooked up to it, and a DVD player. There
was a stereo on the other side of the room with a surround-sound speaker system. There was three
doors in this room, one that lead into the hall, another was a closet, and of course, the last one
lead to his own room. A dark blue and green couch sat in front of the TV, with a dark oak coffee
table in front of the couch, and matching end tables by the blue and green recliner chair and love
seat. A futon was on the other wall, close to the stereo, which Harry was sitting on right now. The
carpet was blue and the walls were a matching blue with a green border, but you couldn’t see much
of the walls because of the large, pale gray canvases that stretched across each wall. There were
many different pictures Harry had drawn on them, and then painted or colored. One wall was
dedicated solely to music, with the names of his favorite bands in creative lettering. Another wall
was lyrics he liked. The other wall was just free draw. Harry was quite an artist, and he doodled
on his walls all the time. The last wall what plain, he hadn’t thought of what to do with it yet.
Canvases were covering the walls so he could keep all his “artistic expressions.” If they weren’t
outside on the court or playing football or something, they were in here playing video games or
messing around with music or whatnot. His parents liked to call this his “lair” because if he was
in the house, he was usually in here, but his parents weren’t home half the time, so it’s not like
he’s missing quality time with them or anything.

“Damn, I never knew you guys had so much stamina, I would’ve thought Shamrock would be sated by
now.” Harry called to Draco and Ron, earning a pillow being chucked at him. “Hey, do you want me to
beat Shamrock or not? Chucking pillows at me isn’t a very nice way to persuade your Savior to help
out, you know.” Harry said sarcastically, dodging another pillow. Setting his guitar down on his
futon, he made his way to the couch. He sat down and took the controller from Ron. “Right, now the
key to beating Shamrock is having skill at this game, seeing as how you two lack in the department
of anything that necessitates skill, I understand your short-comings.”

“Oh sod off, Potter and just beat this fucking asshole, you Dipshit.” Ron said with a role of
the eyes.

Harry shot him a smirk, gave him the controller back and stood up. “Now that I have been
insulted, I’ve decided that I will not help and instead, I’m thinking that we should go and get
some junk food.” Within 5 minutes, the boys were out the door and in Harry’s 2003 Mustang making
there way to the store, despite the late hour.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*It's my life
It's now or never
I ain't gonna live forever
I just want to live while I'm alive
(It's my life)
My heart is like an open highway
Like Frankie said
I did it my way
I just wanna live while I'm alive
It's my life*

*“It’s My Life” BON JOVI*

*+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++*

“Where are you going this morning, sweetheart?” Hermione’s mother asked as she put eggs and
toast on all their breakfast plates. “Don’t tell me that whimsy library again.” Her mother said,
giving Hermione a pointed look.

“It’s not ’whimsy’ mother, it is perfect realistic,” Hermione said with a sigh, though knowing
how futile it was to argue.

“Call it what you want, Hermione, but it’s all rubbish to me, just a little fantasy you are
living in. Instead of learning all that magic nonsense, you should be doing something worthwhile.
This paranormal universe you keep in your life is just getting in the way of more relevant
happenings. You should preparing for your next year in high school and whatnot.”

“Mother! I am not living in a paranormal universe! Magic means a lot to me and whether you like
it or not, it is a part of who I am!” Why couldn’t her parents just get it? Why were they so blind
and ignorant that they refuse to see the role magic plays in her life? Why did they try to condemn
her because of it?

“What? Are you planning on making a living waving around a piece of wood and enunciating a few
hocus pocus words?” Her mother condescendingly waved around the spatula, and reciting a chant she
had seen on the television, making a mockery of the art of magic and wand waving. She stopped and
put her hands on her hips, giving Hermione a reproachful look and continued, “You need to get you
head out of the clouds and where it should be. You should be spending time with teenagers your age
and joining committees. Just think about how much help and volunteer work you could be issuing if
you spent less time at that miserable library and with that…that…*woman*! I am your mother and
you spend more of you time with her than me.” She stated, shaking her head.

This had been brewing for a while now, Hermione knew. Anytime she mentioned magic or said she
would be going to Madam Suddusk’s, she didn’t miss the glances that tinged with bitterness or the
sighs that unveiled their concealed disappointment. She had just hoped it wouldn’t come to a head
any time soon. Even though she wasn’t a dreamer, she slipped into fantasy every once and while, and
this was one of the few occasions when she had believed her idealist accounts might come true and
she would be able to avoid confrontation with her parents with her leave for Hogwarts so close. But
it was just too much of an optimistic farewell vision, and she should’ve seen something of this
sort coming. Why was she so unprepared now? When had she let idealism overcome her realist
intentions? All she could think to do was face it head-on. Despite the shame her name brought to
the Wizarding World, Hermione had developed a slight protective attitude over magic. If her parents
insulted magic, they insulted her. They make a mockery display of her.

“So your father and I decided, that it would be best if you joined the Girls’ Club. It promises
fun and excitement. With help from this Club, you will excel in leadership and confidence. With
more self-esteem, maybe you will try joining a few societies this year in high school. You are
living such a plain life, and the more outgoing you are and the more extracurricular activities you
take part in, the better you will look on your university applications. Your first meeting will be
this afternoon, and you will be there if I have to drive you there myself. End of discussion,”
Hermione’s mother said sternly, going back to pouring orange juice in everyone’s glass.

To say Hermione was stunned was an understatement. She didn’t see this coming at all. There was
no way she would be going to this “Girls’ Club” without a fight. “There is no way I am going.”
Hermione said defiantly, locking her angry eyes with her mother’s.

“You aren’t gong?” her mother’s eyes blazed with anger that match Hermione’s.

Finally, her father decided to chip in on the battle the two women of the house were having.
“Hermione, you will go. This sounds like a great experience for a girl. Your mother went to one
when she was your age and you will do the same.”

Hermione just shook her head, she knew her mother had been quite the social butterfly when she
was younger. She always pointed that out to Hermione, about how she was Homecoming Queen and all
the volunteer hours she spent in her community. Hermione usually dismissed it to keep peace, but
this was the last straw. “When she was my age, she may have. But that’s not me, that’s her. I’m not
that kind of person-”

“Hermione, you are such a private person, it’s not a wonder why you don’t have any friends or go
to any sleepover parties. If you just open up to a few people instead of hiding behind your books
and magic, you might discover that there is a whole other world out there with friends and fun that
doesn’t include magic or books. Where the *Real World* is!” Her mother said exasperated,
shaking her head and closing her eyes.

“I am not going. You can’t make me. And I DO NOT live in some fantasy world!” Hermione retorted
angrily.

“Darrel? Please help me out here,” Mrs. Granger said to her husband.

Darrel Granger looked at his daughter again, and said in a stern voice, “Hermione Jane Granger,
go upstairs to your room and bring down your magic wand.”

Hermione looked fearful. ‘*What are they going to do?’* “But-”

“No buts, go get your wand NOW.”

Hermione swallowed painfully and made her way upstairs. What were they going to do? She needed
her wand! She had that exam at Hogwarts soon! Taking her wand from its place inside the drawer of
her bedside table, she headed back down the stairs, nervous and keeping inside the tears that
wanted to fall. She was met with a heart wrenching silence when she walked back into the kitchen.
She set her most prized possession on the sleek ceramic tabletop. Her father looked at her and
began to tell her the terms of her punishment for back talking and all the while Hermione felt like
they were giving her a death sentence.

*Cause I been waiting all my life*

*For a break like this*

*It's my chance of a lifetime I just know it is*

*I gotta go find these dreams*

*“Then I Did” RASCAL FLATTS*

**Thanks for reading and please review!**

***~Archie~***



4. Girls' Club And Futures
--------------------------

**Hey, I want to thank everyone for their reviews, and here’s the next chapter! Enjoy and don’t
forget to review! I’m gonna be gone all weekend, so surprise me with loads of reviews for this
chapter when I get back!**

RECAP

*…a hug was slightly understandable…but a kiss!*

*The second their lips made contact, however soft and brief it had been, Harry was sure he had
died and gone Heaven.*

*And besides: It. Was. An. A-C-C-I-D-E-N-T!*

*‘What are you saying, Granger? Did you enjoy it?’*

*“You barely know her and you say all this stuff about her”*

*“So your father and I decided, that it would be best if you joined the Girls’ Club…”*

*“Hermione Jane Granger, go upstairs to your room and bring down your magic wand.”*

**Chapter 4: Girls’ Club and Futures**

Harry glanced at his alarm clock and the neon green digits told him it was late in the morning.
He just yawned and clutched the pillow over his head to block out the sunlight that was trying to
creep in through the separation of the navy curtains that hung over his windows, shielding his room
from the view of an outsider. He needed to get up, he knew that, but right now, his motivation
level wasn’t exactly impressive. After another ten minutes of pointless dawdling, Harry finally
made the *epic* journey of about 15 feet into his bathroom and took his morning shower.

Harry walked into a deserted kitchen, and then moved on to other rooms in the house only to find
no one was home. He sighed, looks like he was on his own today, which wasn’t surprising. He loved
his parents, but they weren’t exactly the role model family unit when it came to spending quality
time together. Nevertheless, Harry learned to deal with it, he became accustom to seeing his
friends’ parents as much as he sees his own. ‘*No need to dwell on it though‘*, he thought as
he made his way back to the kitchen and the refrigerator. Maybe he would call his buddies and see
if they wanted to come out and hang for a while. Or maybe he could go take a walk through Diagon
Alley, stop at Quality Quidditch Supplies and see what’s up.

After eating breakfast, Harry still had no clue what he wanted to do, everything he came up with
just seemed so worn out. There wasn’t anything change really, the same routine, just in different
patterns. With a sigh, he headed up to his room and grabbed his guitar then went outside.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

They took her wand. She sat, completely numb from head to toe, as her stony-faced mother drove
across town. She sat in the backseat of the SUV, not wanting to be near her mother right now.
Hermione couldn’t believe what was happening; her mother was making her go to some dumb Girls’
Club. Still, the worst was when they took he wand. How was she supposed to prepare for Hogwarts if
she didn’t have the most important thing that made her a witch?

*“Hermione, you will get your wand back when we feel you have improved your attitude. You will
not talk to your mother that way and until you have shown us you can be more respectful and not act
like a hermit, we will discuss whether you will get your wand back. Until then, you are on a thin
line, so I would just advise you watch out.” Her father’s voice was cold and stern. Hermione wasn’t
used to her father using such a tone, especially with her. She glanced at her wand sitting on the
cold table top, and for the first time in her life, she considered the idea of using her wand
against her own parents for doing this to her, for all the times they had hurt her by arguing or
showing how disappointed they were in her. However, she dismissed that thought quickly, disgusted
with herself for even conceiving the idea.*

“You will thank us for this one day, you know, Hermione.” Her mother’s voice broke her out of
her thoughts. She looked up and met her mother’s eyes in the rearview mirror.

“For some reason, I really doubt that, Mother,” Hermione responded, not bothering to conceal the
anger dripping from her voice.

Mrs. Granger shook her head, “Sometimes I just never know about you, Hermione. Why can’t you
just agree with your father and me every once in awhile?” Hermione gave no response, and just
stared out the side window, gazing at the trees and trying to keep her anger in check. After about
another 10 minutes of driving, they stopped in front of a rather nice looking building. There were
flowerbeds on either side of the cement walkway, leading up about four stairs and onto a porch with
white columns on the edges. A sign was in the freshly mowed lawn with the words:

**Girls’ Club**

Where We Can Express Ourselves!

Hermione felt the familiar feeling she got before she was about to vomit creeping into her
stomach. This was completely ridiculous. She didn’t notice her mother starting up the walkway.
“Hermione, come on, you don’t want to be late for your first meeting.”

Hermione looked up at her mother, “I don’t really think it’s necessary for you to walk me in;
after all, I *am* seventeen.” Hermione said, walking toward her mother.

“I will walk in with you, and if you don’t like it, then good, because I don’t really care right
now. Now let’s go,” and with that, her mother began her brisk walk up to the door Hermione was
dreading to go through. With a sign of defeat, Hermione reluctantly followed, the anger in her eyes
burning into the back of her mother neat hair.

The walk to the door seemed all too short for Hermione’s liking, but what could she do? What
would her parents do to her if she just bolted down the street and didn’t look back? As tempting as
that sounded, instead Hermione followed her mother into the dreaded building and into a small foyer
and then down a hall into a good sized lobby. The walls were a white cream color with maroon
wallpaper border and a cherry finish on the woodwork. The floor was also wooden, with a giant
multi-shaded maroon throw rug in the center, covering most of the shiny, polished floor. A desk was
sitting in a corner with a middle-aged woman sitting behind it looking though the metal filing
cabinet for something. She looked up when we walked into the room and gave us a warm smile, which
my mother returned, then glancing at me with my stony expression; the woman’s seem smile falter a
bit.

“Mrs. Granger, it’s nice to see you again. This must be your daughter, Hermione,” The woman’s
voice was so overly sweet and soft that Hermione couldn’t help but want to gag at the fakeness of
it. She noticed both of the women staring at her, so Hermione tried to muster up a smile, but she
was terrified that if she made too much movement with her mouth, she just might spew up everything
she had eaten today, so she didn’t overdue it.

“Nice to see you again too, Mrs. Collins. And yes, this is my daughter; we are here for her
first meeting.” Hermione heard her mother’s response, but was still feeling slightly dizzy. Before
she knew it, her mother led the way into another room, one more spacious and to Hermione’s
disappointment, filled with about twelve or thirteen girls around her age. After taking one glance
at them, Hermione wanted to laugh out loud. As they drew closer to the group, Hermione just rolled
her eyes. The huddle stopped talking and then focused their attention on the newcomers. Another
younger woman, about her mid-twenties, walked up to the Grangers.

“Hello! We are so glad you can join us today, Hermione! We are going t have so much fun; if only
you could’ve

joined us earlier in the summer. But I guess we’ll just have to make up for lost time, right?”
The woman’s voice was so perky and annoying, Hermione stood there with an apprehensive look on her
face. The woman had blonde hair that was pulled back with a red hair tie. She was about and inch
taller than Hermione, and she reminded her of a “Tiffany.” Maybe it was the pink shirt and black
sports pants with pink stripes going down each side. A pair of white tennis shoes was this woman’s
footwear.

“Hermione, honey, are you all right?” Hermione’s eyes snapped up to her mother’s face.

“Sorry, what was that mother?”

“I asked if you were ok. I’m going to go ahead and get going, I’ll be back to pick you up in a
few hours.” With that, Hermione watched her mother go out the door they came in and left her at the
mercy of this group of girls…

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“*Lying soaked in sweat tonight. Your knuckles white; you try to fight*,” Harry sang as he
played his guitar. He was sitting on futon again, hunched over the instrument, playing a familiar
tune. That’s what he had been doing today since breakfast: just sitting outside, then he came back
inside about an hour ago, playing every song he could think of, and working on some his own songs
too. “ *For chemicals to blind your eyes Wonder can you stay this high When the cells begin to
die…Forever…Forever…Forever..,”* Harry picked up the pace on his guitar and then added a sudden
burst of energy for the chorus. “*Crush it up, Crush it up…Take it down, Take it down…Smash it
up, Smash it up…Falling down….*” Harry slowed his pace again and started on the next verse.

Twenty minutes later, Harry found himself once again in the kitchen, looking for a snack. Damn,
he was so bored. Sure, he could fiddle around with his guitar for a while, but not all sodding day
long. With a sigh as he finished his second banana, Harry headed for the garage to get a ball and
then proceeded to the court. After about an hour and a half of shooting hoops, he went inside and
put in a movie.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

She was eyeing them uneasily. The woman in the pink, whose name she found out was Tonya, had
went into another room. Apparently, she had some paper work that needed done, so Hermione was left
with her peers. The all looked so goddamn perky and happy it was nauseating. One of the girls came
up to Hermione with a grin plastered on her face. Hermione recognized her immediately, as well as
most of the others.

“Well look at who we have here girls, Quad B decided she wanted to try and fit in. Aw, isn’t
that just the most sweetest and pathetic thing in the world?” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm
in a sickly, honey-sweet tone. Hermione felt a slight blush in her cheeks. She thought she would
never have to see these girls again, with her attending Hogwarts and all

this year. Oh how wrong she had been. She tried to keep her face emotionless; she tried to tune
out her predator’s offensive words, but she was in such close proximity with them, she found it
hard to concentrate on anything else.

“What? Having a lonely summer and decided to try and make a few friends?” Another girl, Becky,
asked in a whiney voice and putting on a baby pout.

“Yeah right, like Quad B could ever have friends! She probably has a book at home all about
making friends, but even with all that help, she’s still hopeless!” Hermione really wished they
would stop calling her that. “Quad B” was another one of her many nicknames from school. It stood
for Bushy Buck-toothed Beaver Bitch. Hermione’s two front teeth were slightly larger than average,
but it was nothing really. They didn’t look out of place, but it was something these perfect,
blonde, size 5, flawless toothed bullies didn’t ever have to put up with.

They were all laughing now. Hermione would never know what could possess people to be so cruel.
They were having a nice laugh at her expense. However, she pushed all the hurt it brought out of
her mind and squared her shoulders. She knew their taunts. The routine they used to tease and
humiliate people they thought were beneath them. Despite the inch difference in height, Hermione
still felt as if they towered over her. But why? Why was she letting them get the best of her? She
should be fighting back. She should let them know what she thought of them as well. They shouldn’t
be able to put others down for so long and not face any consequences for their actions.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*‘Cause I'm so wired all day
There's someone missing
I keep on struggling
Everyone's kicking me
Back and forth, and I
Think I'm getting tired of everything
Bleed for me*

*“Bleed” PUDDLE OF MUDD*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Very clever. Real witty.” She began, with a roll of her eyes, and she brought her hands to rest
on her hips, trying to look as if she couldn’t care less about what they were saying about her.
“Kinda funny how you guys can come up with such an intelligent name such as “Quad B”” She had her
finger make quotation mark gesture while saying the offensive name for emphasis, “When your gpa
isn’t even a whole number.” The girls stopped their laughing by now and heat rose in their
face.

“Why you little-”

However, Hermione didn’t stop there, “ Little what? Honestly, you could add up all your girls’
IQ and multiply it by ten, and you would still get a little south of a quarter of Stacie’s bra
size!” Hermione said, raising a hand and holding two of her fingers about and inch apart to show
them what she meant. Stacie, on of the girls in the crowd, folded her arms across her chest and
turned the color or a ripe tomato. Still, Hermione pressed on.

“Funny thing is, guess what; sure you guys may be on top at school, and think everyone is
beneath you. You may call me a “freak” and a “geek” or whatever you dunderheads can think up.
However, hey, call me a geek in five or ten years when I’m driving around in a brand new car and I
have a nice house. Where will you be? Oh, on the corner of Main and 5th Avenue in a
short red dress, trying to make a buck. And don’t worry; when I drive by, I’ll be sure not to wave.
You see, last time I checked, even fast food restaurants didn’t even hire people with the
intelligence of an old shoe!” Hermione stated coolly, keeping all her composure and even letting
show a slight smirk.

“Oh yeah? Main and 5th in a little red dress aside, you couldn’t get a man to do some
much as glance at you even if you danced naked on Broadway! Face the facts, Granger, you’re either
going to die a virgin, or end up marrying some freak from Mars, but I heard even *they* have
better taste than the likes of you.” Sabrina, another girl in the crowd with short blonde hair,
came forward; the look in her eyes could melt nails.

Hermione gave a snort. “Hearing voices from Mars, are we now, Sabrina? Tell me something, how
are you going to feel when you tell your future husband, that is if you can land one, that you’ve
screwed half the lacrosse team and your chemistry teacher? Oh, and let me know how he takes it when
he ends up with some STD like herpes from you and questions how that came about, too. If I get
married, at least I will be able to tell him with some pride and dignity that I haven’t slept
around, which is far more than *any* you can say.” All of them now were looking at her with
such a look of loathing, that most people would probably run out the doors, but Hermione still
stood her ground. She wasn’t a quitter. She waited for the feeling of victory to wash over her. She
had just single-handedly put them all down a peg or two; surely, she should feel some sense of
triumph to strike her. But it didn’t come. Nothing. She couldn’t get a feeling of satisfactory when
putting them down. Instead, she felt disgusted with herself. How could she stoop down to their
level? She didn’t feel good at all putting them in their place. She wasn’t the kind of person that
could get off at others’ misery.

“Look, I’m sorry. I may have gone a little too far-” But she was cut off.

“No, *you* look you little bitch, if I were you, Heaven forbid, I would just watch my step.
You are going to get it this year. You can kiss any good things you hoped to experience in your
senior year goodbye, because you won’t know when or how, but we will get your fucking ass. I’ve got
two words for you chick: dead meat. You mean nothing to anyone at our school,” Becky said
menacingly. Hermione could tell she was bubbling with anger.

Another girl, Taylor, also wasn’t looking too happy. “If you so much as breathe one more word
about any of us, “dead meat” won’t even begin to describe what’s going to happen to you. Like you
said, some of us are banging half the lacrosse team, and those boys can get pretty mean when
persuaded. And wouldn’t it just be *tragic* if they somehow mistook your head for a lacrosse
ball? You are nothing more than an encyclopedia in a skirt.” Her eyes never left Hermione’s. Ten
years of hate was clear in her blue eyes.

They were threatening her. There were a few big guys on the lacrosse team, so Hermione was in
dangerous waters. What if somehow she didn’t make it to Hogwarts? What if something happened, and
she had to attend her senior year? Still, she couldn’t show fear.

Hermione remembered that feeling she had gotten when she said all those things just minutes ago.
She had actually felt bad? That feeling vanished, and was replaced with determination. Why be cross
with these girls now when she was leaving soon? Instead, just tell them what you think and leave it
at that, because any insult you throw at them, they will just counter it, and if they can’t, then
it will just be dismissed.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*My give a damn's busted.*

*“My Give A Damn’s Busted” JO DEE MESSINA*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“You know, if anyone here was a little bitch, that would be all you girls. I haven’t done jack
to any of you, but you still try to make my life a living Hell. Why do you have to be so cruel to
people that are different from you? So what if I like to read? Does that seriously bother you? ‘I’m
feeling a little fat today, so I think I’m gonna ruin everyone’s day.’ What, are you so caught up
in the pathetic imitations of what you call a life that you lead, that you need to go out of your
way just to try to make me miserable? Do you honestly have nothing better to do? News flash girls:
Get a bloody life! I just hope that I will never have the misfortune of seeing any of you ever
again,” And with those last words, Hermione turned around and headed for the door. She bumped into
Tonya, the group leader, on her way out as she came to investigate why all the girls were just
standing around.

“Hermione, where are you go-” But she was cut off but the door shutting behind Hermione. She
tried to ignore the stinging in her eyes as she retraced her route from earlier into this Hellhole.
By the time she made it to the lobby, tears were slowly making their way down her cheeks. She met a
light drizzle once she got outside. Hermione spotted a coffee shop with a small bookstore connected
to it just across the street. Hurrying across the busy traffic, she made it inside by the time the
rain started to pick up a bit.

It was a nice little café. Half of it had tables and booths clumped together, and the other was
cover wall to wall with bookcases. It was nice; she couldn’t ask for a more comforting place.

+

She was sitting on a maroon and emerald booth. There was a hole in the seat, and she was picking
at it. A cup of hot chocolate was sitting in front of her, getting colder by the minute and a large
half-eaten cookie on a napkin next to it. Glancing outside, her spirits didn’t lighten at all. It
was down right pouring now, nice way to match her mood though. She watched as many vehicles passed
on the street, none of them her mother’s gray SUV. It felt as if she had been waiting for an
eternity when she finally saw cars start arriving in front of the Girls’ Club building, and she
spotted her mother’s SUV. Picking up her hot chocolate and what was left of her cookie, she headed
outside onto the wet sidewalk. Waiting on the curb for the traffic to slow, she hurried across the
street to the vehicle.

Mrs. Granger looked surprised when she saw her daughter coming from across the street rather
than the building. Hermione quickly opened the passenger door and jumped in, wanting to get out of
the rain. At first, there was silence. Mrs. Granger put the gear in DRIVE and started down the
street.

“So, how was the meeting?” Hermione could almost hear the sarcasm in her mother’s voice.

“It was fine. You were right; it was a great experience for me.” Hermione responded, looking out
the side window as the rain continued to pound consistently to the vehicle, creating a dull sound
in the background of their conversation.

“It was fine was it? Do you mind telling me why you were in that café, and not in the building?
And don’t tell me it was some sort of little field trip over there either, Hermione Jane.” Her
mother’s voice was accusing, and cold.

“I fancied a cup of hot chocolate and a cookie,” Hermione told her mother coolly, gesturing to
the now soggy cookie and stone cold hot chocolate.

“Don’t try to be funny with me, Hermione Jane. What, did you walk out after I left? Did you
think I wouldn’t be able to tell which direction you came from? Do you really think I’m that
stupid?’ She was furious, Hermione could tell. Hermione chose to ignore her last few sentences.

“I told you, Mother. It. Was. Fine.” She said each word slowly. Her teeth were gritted and she
felt her own anger start to build up. Her mother said nothing and drove the rest of the way home in
silence, both of them lost in their own thoughts.

As soon as Hermione walked in the house, she started for her room, but her mother stopped her.
“You are not getting out of this, young lady. Get your butt back down here.”

Hermione made her way back to the kitchen where her mother was. “What?”

“Why were you at the café?”

Still, she wasn’t going to quit nagging her. Both of them just stared at each other.

“Look, can we just do this some other time? I’ve really got some studying to do.” Which was
true, she needed to study for her Hogwarts Exam.

“No we cannot do this another time. I don’t care what you’ve got to do, we are talking right
now.” Her mother said shrilly, her dark eyes boring into Hermione’s.

“Fine! You want to know what happened? When, before or after they started up the “Quad B”
name-calling?”

Her mother gave her a puzzled look. “What B?”

Hermione let out a frustrated sigh, “QUAD B! I guess you aren’t too updated on what goes on in
high school. It’s just one of my many nicknames. “Quad B” it means the four B’s: Bushy Buck-toothed
Beaver Bitch.” Her mother’s eyes widened.

“Yea, that’s what they call me, Mum. The Bushy Buck-toothed Beaver Bitch. Oh, and let’s not
forget about “Bushy-Haired-Bookworm” and “No-Life-Granger.” So, you want to know what happened
after they all started their usual teasing and taunting? When they said I had no friends and rubbed
it in my face about how much everyone hates me and loves them? Or do you want to know about when
they said no boy would ever like me? That I would die a virgin or end up marrying some freak from
Mars if I’m lucky? Oh, what about when they promised to make my life a living Hell this senior
year, and they won’t back down on that. Sure, I got in a few good comments, but guess what? I can’t
feel good about saying them, no. I have got to have a bloody conscience and feel completely
disgusted with myself! So after my little ending speech, I left alright! I went across the street
because if I had spent another minute in there, I think I just might’ve blown the place up
accidentally!” Hermione burst out, letting out all her anger, her sharp and harsh words making her
mother’s jaw drop and eyes widen the size of saucers.

“Hermione, I never-” But she was cut off, Hermione wasn’t finished yet. She knew she shouldn’t
blame her mother, but there wasn’t anyone else for it.

“So thanks, Mum! Like I said, I think you were right, it was such a grand experience for me! I’m
so glad you could butt into my life and make my day!” And with that, Hermione stomped up the stairs
and into her room. Her mother knocked on the door a moment later. She felt horrible for talking to
her mother that way, but she was just so angry and hurt, she couldn’t help herself.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*Do you wanna be somebody else?
Are you sick of feeling so left out?
Are you desperate to find something more?
Before your life is over
Are you stuck inside a world you hate?
Are you sick of everyone around?
With their big fake smiles and stupid lies
While deep inside you're bleeding*

*“Welcome To My Life” SIMPLE PLAN*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

She found Hermione lying on her bed, tears stinging her eyes. “Hermione….” She heard her mother
sigh as she shut the door and sat on her bad, raking her hand through her daughter’s bush of hair.
“Hermione…I’m sorry, I had no idea it was that bad. I wish I wouldn’t have pushed you into that
kind of situation. I…” Hermione looked up at her mother through her tears, which blurred her vision
slightly, but she could still make out her mother’s frame. The concern etched in her face was
evident, and she could almost feel the worry radiating off her mother. “It’s my fault, I…it wasn’t
my place to make you go. I just really wished you would have said something by now.” Hermione began
picking at a loose string on her violet and green bedding. It was mostly violet, but with green
designs. Her mother had made her this quilt for her birthday when she was ten; Hermione could
remember how happy she had been then. She had had a nightmare, and her mother told her this would
be her special quilt that would fight away any nightmare she would have. It was her safety haven.
And ever since she had gotten it, she can’t remember ever having another nightmare. She knew it was
all psychological, but still, it helped her anyway.

She was jolted back to reality when she felt her mother’s hand on her forehead, checking for a
fever that wasn’t there. “Hermione, dear, are you alright?”

“I…I’m fine, Mum. Just zoned out for a second. Everything…everything is alright, Mum.” Her tears
had stopped, and after looking up at her mother, it was all alright. It was all passed now. No need
to dwell on it. Instead, a nice hot shower sounded just fine, and maybe a hug from her mother.
Everything would be all better.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*All the times
That I've cried
All this wasted
It's all inside
And I feel
All this pain
Stuffed it down
It's back again
And I lie
Here in bed
All alone
I can't mend
But I feel
Tomorrow will be OK*

*“Outside” STAIND*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“So, how was your day, son?” Harry was gazing down at his dinner, and he didn’t hear his
father’s question. “Harry?…Harry!” Harry came out of his reverie and looked up at his parents.

“I asked you how was your day.” They both looked at him expectantly.

“What? Oh, um…fine, I guess, I messed around a little with my guitar and played some basketball.
Nothing much. You guys?” Harry asked, looking at his parents.

“Nothing really new. The same day-to-day routine.” Harry’s mother said nonchalantly. “Are you
ready for you last year at Hogwarts?” His mother inquired.

“As ready as ever.” Harry muttered, pushing his potatoes around with his fork before taking
another bite.

“Hopefully, by the end of this year, we can get you signed onto a Quidditch team. I know we
talked about Puddlemere United, but I also heard today in the office that Pride of Portree is
another excellent beginner Quidditch team as well. I may be able to get a representative from each
attend a few games this year, and they just may like what they see.” His father continued, pride
evident in his voice, talking about one of Harry’s dream of going pro on the Quidditch field.

“Sure, whatever you say. It sounds really great.” Harry responded, not really in the mood of
discussing his future right now. Sure, Quidditch sounded like a great future, and he knew he had
the talent, but he was only seventeen. He was Of Age, but still just a teenager at the same time.
He didn’t want to go rushing off into a career right out of Hogwarts.

His parents both had different dreams for their son. His father, also a lover of Quidditch,
wanted Harry to pursue a career on the field. He would make a lot of money, and do something he
really enjoyed, so it seemed like a win-win situation. His mother, on the other hand, though she
understood her son’s passion for the sport, wanted Harry to join the Ministry of Magic for a nice,
stable occupation, and even more, one that didn’t involve her little boy a hundred feet above the
ground on nothing more than a thin stick!

Though he respected both of their dreams for him, Harry still had a few ideas of his own. Being
a Quidditch star did sound exciting, and he would get to travel around. But He didn’t know if he’d
like all the attention and stardom. People would just start expecting things of you. It was
something he enjoyed doing immensely at the same time, though. On the other hand, he would be away
from home, and if he ever did get married and have a family, he didn’t want to be away from his
wife and children a lot. A job at the Ministry didn’t sound too enthusing, but it would provide him
with the luxury of being a family father. Still, Harry had other thoughts too. Saying his music
career wasn’t a huge hit was an understatement. They had had a few dances at Hogwarts, and Harry
and few of his fellow mates would be asked to perform as the band, mixing some Muggle tunes,
Wizarding songs, and throwing in a few of their own. They even made a few appearances in Hogsmeade,
but nothing concrete, just playing in a pub on an off weekend or something. Their band, if you want
to go as far as to call it that, was hit at Hogwarts, but that still didn’t get them on *Witch
Weekly’s* Most Popular Bands list.

Another thing was Harry’s artistic talents. He loved to draw, and did in his spare time. It was
something he enjoyed doing, but Harry didn’t know if it was something that would be in his future
or not. He was pretty great, but was he good enough? Harry sighed. It was all so complicating. He
didn’t know what in world he wanted to do. He felt too young to be making that kind of decision.
His parents weren’t real supportive of his music career or pursuing anything in the art field. They
told him his band would never make a hit, and art just wasn’t appreciated enough to make a lifelong
career out of it.

He missed those days when everything was simple and he didn’t have to face his parents, having
to see their disappointment when he told them he still hadn’t decided.

He got up from the table and went to start the dishes, humming an unfamiliar tune, still lost in
thought.


+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

She needed her wand. Her exam at Hogwarts was the following day, and what good would it be,
showing up without her wand? She sighed. It was late, her parents were asleep downstairs. As
quietly as she could, Hermione tiptoed down the hall to the stairs. Without making a noise, she
managed to get to the last few steps. The last step let out a small creak, causing Hermione to
freeze. She had no clue what she was doing, but her feet led her to her parents room, as if on
their own accord.

The door opened noiselessly, and she crept in as quietly as she could. They were sound asleep on
the bed, the moonlight creeping in through the drawn maroon-colored drapes. The deep, maroon carpet
silenced her footsteps, as she mad her way closer to the cherry wood dressers on the opposite wall
from the door. She didn’t know if her wand was even in here, but where else would it be? Her
parents were light sleepers, so she knew she didn’t want to take up too much time looking around
aimlessly when any noise she made could jar them awake from their slumber.

Te dresser was neat, nothing out of order. No dust on it, just a few picture frames and candles.
No wand. She turned around to the small entertainment center facing the bed of her parents; maybe
they set it on there. A T.V. and a few knick-knacks, along with more pictures. She sighed, then
quickly put her hand over her mouth. Turning around to face her parents, she was thankful neither
of them awoke. A nightstand was on either side on the bed. Each had their own matching lamp. On her
mother’s stand, there was a book; her mother liked to read before she went to bed. On her father’s,
an alarm clock with neon green, luminous digits that told her it was 1:47 in the morning. She eyed
the drawer of her father’s nightstand. Getting on her knees, she slowly crept closer to the draw,
holding her breath. She slowly brought her hand to the handle, and gave a small jerk. Too loud. Her
father’s snored loudly, twitching at the noise. Her eyes tightly shut, and crouching as low as she
could, Hermione waited on a baited breath as her father’s snore returned back to normal. Once they
were, she peered into the drawer. The moonlight wasn’t enough to see in the dark draw. Glancing up
at her parents, she shielded the drawer from them with her body, and then whispered a soft,
“Lumos.” the tip of her wand ignited in a light, and Hermione quickly slipped her hand into the
draw and grasped her wand. “Nox.” The light vanished, and Hermione pulled out her wand. With a wave
of her wand, a replica of it appeared in her other hand. It didn’t have magical properties, but it
was to keep her parents from knowing about her taking the real one. Replacing it with the phony
wand, she softly closed the drawer and crawled back to the door.

She was in her room now, and heaved a sigh of relief. She had her wand, now all she had to worry
about was her exam…

+

“What do you mean ‘we aren’t going to Hogwarts.’?” Hermione said shrilly, her eyes wide with
disbelief. “I thought I was going to have my exam today! Did they decide I wasn’t good enough? Will
they not let me in? What did-” She was cut off with Clarence holding up her hand to silence her.
She had just told her they wouldn’t be going to Hogwarts today, which was a bit of a shock.

“No dear, instead, we have a visitor, and *he* will examine your magic ability yourself.”
She answered calmly.

“He? Who…?” But just then, a man with a long gray beard in plum robes walked in from a door and
gave her a small smile. He gazed at her with twinkling blue eyes behind his half-mooned frames.

“Hello, Miss Granger, I am Albus Dumbledore.” He said quietly. His voice was soft, but Hermione
could tell right away he was a very powerful wizard. Clarence had told her about him on more than
one occasion.

She felt her nervousness multiply as he gazed at her, butterflies wreaking havoc on her insides.
This was it. This was her chance. She drew out her wand, and stepped forward. “When do we begin?” A
small grin making its way onto her features.

“We can get underway whenever you’re ready, Miss Granger.” Was his response, his eyes still
twinkling.

“I’m ready.”

“Then we shall begin.”

For the next two hours, he tested her over charms and wrist movements. He asked her a little
about a charm, and was impressed at the vastness of her knowledge. Clarence had left them alone,
not wanting to intrude. So far, Hermione was extremely pleased with herself. They went over a few
hexes, but now they were on a break. Sitting at one of the secluded tables, they drank a cup of tea
and ate some cookies Clarence had prepared.

“I am quite impressed with your capability of magic. Clarence had told me how extraordinary you
were with a wand, but I didn’t expect this.” He said good-naturedly, looking at Hermione.

She felt a blush creep into her cheeks. “I’ve…um…Clarence is such a great teacher. I was quite
lucky when she agreed to be my mentor. She is the extraordinary one, not me.”

“She is quite the witch.” He agreed with a chuckle, draining the last of his tea.

The second half of the exam went just as well. She could do anything he through at her, and he
was still quite impressed with her. By the end of it all, Hermione felt as if she was on pins and
needles with excitement. When he told her she was a shoo in, she was hardly able to contain
herself. Clarence had to suffer through one of her huge bare hugs, but she still looked quite
pleased. Once he disapparated, Hermione started jumping up and down, doing some jig. She was so
happy. Dumbledore’s parting words had been that he was delighted about her coming to Hogwarts this
year, and excited about this upcoming school year. He told her she had such heightened potential in
the magic field, and he hoped she would pursue a career in it in the future.

She couldn’t describe the feeling going through her right now, it was indescribable. She racked
her brain, in search of another time when she felt this happy, but nothing came. She was going to
Hogwarts. Sure, she had already been planning it and knew she was going, but there was still that
doubt that lingered, and it still did really. When she was on the train to this new adventurous
place, then she could be absolutely positive, but still, she was good enough. Hermione Granger was
good enough for this magical school. And better yet, the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, was
impressed. She was going to Hogwarts!

REVIEW!!!

*~Archie~*



5. untitled
-----------

Hey hey hey, this is the chapter you’ve been waiting for! It it is really long, took me forever
to write!

**RECAP <duh!>**

*“Hermione, you will get your wand back when we feel you have improved your attitude…”*

*She glanced at her wand sitting on the cold table top, and for the first time in her life,
she considered the idea of using her wand against her own parents…*

*“Well look at who we have here girls, Quad B decided she wanted to try and fit in.”*

*She had just single-handedly put them all down a peg or two; surely, she should feel some
sense of triumph to strike her. But it didn’t come. Nothing. She couldn’t get a feeling of
satisfactory when putting them down. Instead, she felt disgusted with herself. How could she stoop
down to their level?*

*“And wouldn’t it just be* tragic *if they somehow mistook your head for a lacrosse
ball?”*

*“It was fine was it? Do you mind telling me why you were in that café, and not in the
building?..”*

*“It’s my fault, I…it wasn’t my place to make you go. I just really wished you would have said
something by now.”*

*Instead, a nice hot shower sounded just fine, and maybe a hug from her mother. Everything
would be all better.*

*Though he respected both of their dreams for him, Harry still had a few ideas of his
own.*

*He got up from the table and went to start the dishes, humming an unfamiliar tune, still lost
in thought.*

*Replacing it with the phony wand, she softly closed the drawer and crawled back to the
door.*

*“I am quite impressed with your capability of magic. Clarence had told me how extraordinary
you were with a wand, but I didn’t expect this.” He said good-naturedly, looking at
Hermione*

*And better yet, the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, was impressed. She was going to
Hogwarts!*

ON WITH THE BLOODY STORY!

**Chapter 5: “Hermione Granger…” “WHAT?!”**

“BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!” Harry groaned, stuffing his pillow over his head in hope to drown out the
sound of his alarm clock. Not working. He blindly reached over, with the pillow still over his
head, and hit the snooze button. He’d get up in nine more minutes. Harry knew he shouldn’t dawdle,
it was September First, and he really had to get a move on it for school; the scarlet train left at
eleven ‘o’clock on the dot. It was seven thirty-four. Still, the boy just curled up into a ball,
throwing the covers over his head to block out the offensive light that was making its way into his
room.

Just as he was about to drift off back to sleep, his alarm sounded for a second time. His nine
minutes were up. With another groan, Harry kicked his cover off his bed and stared up and the
ceiling. *‘Time to get up’,* with that thought in mind, he headed for the shower.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

She had been up since five. Excitement coursed through her body as she showered, and dressed
carefully. She couldn’t keep the smile off her face, ‘*This was it*.’ She had been pacing her
room for the last two hours, waiting for her parents to get up and dressed. Hermione tried to calm
down, but thrill and anticipation still bubbled inside her. She should be tired; she hadn’t slept
very much last night, if any. Her restlessness had been with her every since her encounter with the
headmaster. It was all coming together.

The board was set; everything ready to be put into motion. Her things were at Clarence’s
library, ready to be carted off to King’s Cross Station. They were going to apparate. Clarence had
told her there was some safe ground near the station perfect for apparating away from the Muggle
eye. From there, they were going to walk the few blocks to the station for the eleven ‘o’clock
train.

Her parents should be up by now. Trying to appear to be calm and collective, she carefully made
her way downstairs. It was the same scene she had walked in on many times before: her father
sitting at the table, reading the paper while drinking his coffee, while his mother as at the stove
making breakfast. It looked so normal and common to Hermione, but today, it was different. There
wasn’t the tension she had expected for some reason. Her parents look cheery and much like their
day-to-day selves. She sat down at the table, saying a good morning greeting to her parents. Her
mother set her plate down in front of her, just like she did every other morning.

“Good morning, Hermione. Did you sleep well?” Just a simple sentence from her mother made
Hermione jump slightly. Sleep well? Did they know she tossed and turned all night? Did they know of
her plans? Trying to calm the butterflies, she took a deep breath and looked at her parents
ignorant faces. Everything seemed innocent enough.

“I slept fine, thank you. And this breakfast is delicious. Thanks.” Hermione replied steadily,
trying to appear interested in her toast and taking a bite. She was too excited to eat anything
though.

Everything seemed to be going by normal; her parents didn’t mention anything about magic or
Hogwarts, which was a good thing. Hermione didn’t know if she would be able to keep up this façade
much longer, and if the subject were to be broached, she knew she might crack like an egg; lying
never was a strong trait of hers. Fortunately, all they talked about was what was going on it the
dentist office, and how yesterday’s convention was. Hermione was grateful for the safe ground,

As the time to leave drew near, Hermione couldn’t keep the butterflies under control. She would
be leaving at ten ‘o’clock, and it was now quarter-till. She glanced at her parents, still
oblivious. Hermione gave them each a hug and kiss, telling them how much she loved them and
appreciated all they have done for her.

Her parents looked surprised. Hermione often expressed her gratitude, but not quite like
this.

“I’m going to the library, okay? I shouldn’t be too long, I want to pick a up a few books for a
bit of reading.” Hermione said, getting something to drink out of the refrigerator so she wouldn’t
have to look at her parents. She half expected them to say the jig is up, and she was grounded.
That she wouldn’t leave this house until she was forty because she had lied to them.

“Alright, dear. Don’t be too awful long.” Her mother’s voice responded, cheerily and
unconcerned, unaware. With a sigh, and one last glance at her parents, she apparated to Clarence’s
library.

Ever since that little encounter at the Girls’ Club, Hermione and her parents have gotten along
quite nicely. They all came to a mutual agreement that it just wasn’t the right time. That’s one of
the reasons why Hermione felt so bad about leaving, with them getting along so lovely right now.
But at the same time, this was something she needed to do.

“Hermione, right on time. Wh-what’s wrong, dear?” Clarence’s voice was full of worry and concern
at the young girl’s tears. Hermione couldn’t help it, this was a scary thing to be doing. Giving in
to her mentor’s embraces, she stopped the tears from falling. “Are you sure you want to do this,
Hermione? If you’re not ready…”

With a sniff, the young girl pulled away, wiping her eyes in the process. No, this is what she
wanted; she couldn’t stop now. It was too far in the game to quit. She had worked so hard, now it
was going to pay off. “No! I-I’m ready. I know I am. Just a little emotional. I really hate lying
to my parents like this, but they just don’t understand. I want to do this. I *need* to.” She
stated desperately, looking at Clarence in the eyes, searching for support. And it was there.
Clarence was behind her one hundred fifty percent.

With a smile, Clarence said a phrase that was music to her ears, “Are you ready to go to
Hogwarts, Hermione?”

Managing a small smile herself, Hermione responded, “I’m ready.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*Are you ready?*

*Are you ready?*

*For what’s to come*

*Oh, I say are you ready?*

*Are you ready?*

*For what’s to come*

*Ten, nine, eight,*

*Seven six, five*

*Four, three, two*

*One*

*Count down to the change*

*That’s soon to come*

*You’re life has just begun*

*“Are You Ready” CREED*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

He had his trunk packed. He was ready for his upcoming year. His guitar case sat by his trunk at
the door, ready to be taken out to the car. Hedwig, his snowy owl, was perched in her cage, ready
for the long ride. Harry had a duffle bag in his hand, going around the room, picking up
miscellaneous items for his term at school: a few decks of cards, couple Quidditch magazines, his
camera, his cds and CD player with headphones, one of his many sketchbooks, and other things of the
sort. With one last glance around the room and the other room attached, he zipped the bag, tossed
it over his shoulder, carefully grabbed his owl’s cage, and started down the steps.

00

“Now you owl us if you need anything at all, dear. And behave yourself! You’re Head Boy now,”
His mother beamed at him, them her face turned into a warning look, “That means you have to set an
example for the younger students, Harry James.” His mother’s voice was accusing, and Harry hated
when she called him that.

“Don’t worry, Mum, I *always* set an example. Have I ever failed you guys? Harry asked
innocently, looking between his mother and father.

“You set an example, alright, boy.” There was that dangerous tone again. Harry let out a
dramatic sigh.

“It’s as if you don’t trust me! I’m affronted!” Harry said in a mock hurtful tone, his hands
going to his chest.

“Get one the train, Harry, before your mother goes into hysterics again.” His father’s amused
voice commented.

“Uuhhh, please let’s not go there again.” At the house, his mother was crying, saying she
couldn’t believe how big her baby was getting. It made Harry just roll his eyes. With a few more
last goodbyes, and James ruffling Harry’s already incredibly messy hair, Harry finally made his way
onto Platform 9 ¾. Harry couldn’t hold back a grin when he caught sight of the scarlet engine that
would take him to his last year at Hogwarts.

It was sad, really. Hogwarts was so amazing, Harry couldn’t picture not coming back here next
September. It was depressing really. But he could think about that later. Right now, he needed to
find a compartment and get settled. Then find Ron and Draco. With that thought in mind, Harry made
his way to the train through the crowded platform. The noise was really loud, and Harry had to push
his way through a few huddles of friends that were reuniting. A few people called out to him,
asking how his summer was and about the upcoming year. Finally he managed to get this things on the
train, all tucked away in the shelves for his trunk, and his guitar case sitting on one of the
seats. Leaving the compartment, Harry searched for his two best friends.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Now all you need to do, is walk straight at the brick wall, trust me, there’s not need to be
scared.” Clarence’s voice was reassuring, but Hermione was still nervous.


“Will you be coming with me?” Her voice was small, and Hermione cursed herself for not being as
confident as she hoped she would. Clarence looked at her, with a small, motherly grin on her
face.

“Would you like me to, Hermione?” Her voice was soft. Hermione met her gaze, and shook her
head.

“I think it’s best if I do this alone.”

“I think so, too.” She answered sincerely, a somewhat sad smile gracing her lips.

Hermione stood there, this seemed surreal. In a few minutes, she would pass into the magical
world. She would be on her own. Hermione looked up at her mentor, her friend. Clarence had been
there for her, had taken her in and taught her everything she knew. Not just about magic either,
even helped her with her day-to-day muggle life as well. She felt tears sting her eyes. How could
she ever repay her for everything Clarence had done for her? They held each other’s gaze, and
Hermione knew Clarence understood her silence.

“I-I don’t know how to ever say thank-you. Everything you’ve done for me, what can I do to repay
you? You’ve been such a great teacher and more importantly, a best friend…What can I do?”
Hermione’s voice was full of emotion. Tears slowly slide down her cheeks, as she gazed at the
amazing woman that helped her so much.

The woman gave her a watery smile through her own tears, and said in a soft voice, “Never quit.
Hermione, you have so much potential, promise me you will live up to it. Things are going to be
tough, Hermione, but you need to stand up and face it. Show everyone what a strong person you are.
And don’t settle for just being well. Hermione I want you to be extraordinary. I know you can do
this. Please just reach your potential! If you do that, then consider us even.” Hermione’s throat
was too tight to speak, so she could just nod. Clarence understood. With one last hug and look ,
Hermione started for the wall between Platforms nine and ten, pushing a trolly that was carrying
her trunk and owl.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*And you took up for me
When everyone was downin’ me
You always did understand
You gave me strength to go on*

*“A Song For Mama” BOYS II MEN*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The wall was coming closer, but Hermione wasn’t afraid. Instead of the half expected crash,
Hermione didn’t stop, she just kept going. The butterflies in her stomach still thrashed around
madly as she met the magical world on the other side. A large, scarlet train was what her eyes met
first. A sigh overhead read The Hogwarts Express, and then under that, Platform

9 ¾. Then she heard the noise. People calling out to others, parents saying their last goodbyes.
There were people everywhere, and Hermione couldn’t help the nervous smile that graced her face and
she pushed her trolly towards the train. An instructor helped her aboard and she searched for a
compartment.

As Hermione passed full compartment, she couldn’t help but feel slightly sad. Friends were
laughing and joking around; they were having so much fun. Trying to push the feeling out of her
mind, she continued the long walk to the back of the train on through the corridor. There were
compartments on each side, but if she saw anyone in there, she just passed it. Finally, Hermione an
empty one near the back of the train. Sliding the door open, she stepped inside. There were two
green bench seats, one on either side of the compartment. Lugging her trunk in, she took out her
wand and levitated it into one of the many racks behind the leather seats. She put her owl cage the
opposite seat then peered out the large glass window, and saw people hugging their families and
saying goodbye. A twinge of jealously stirred in her stomach. With a small sigh, she settled down
on one of the seats, and took out a small envelope from the book bag she had been carrying. It was
to her parents. It was a note telling them where she had gone and why. She asked them not to worry
or be angry with her. That is was something she had to do. Looking over at her golden-brown owl,
Miguel, who sat perched in his cage, she gave him a smile.

“Hey, Miguel, want to go for a little trip?” She open his cage easily, and brought him out. He
nibbled affectionately at her finger, before letting out a soft hoot. Hermione tied the letter to
his foot, and stroked his feathers softly. “Take this to my parents, ok? We’re going to a school,
Hogwarts. You can find me there.” She opened the window, and with one last hoot of approval, her
owl took off out the window.

Hermione settled back into her seat and was content with watching out the window. When she heard
the five-minute warning whistle, Hermione felt her stomach bubble with excitement. This was it. The
noise started to die down as the train was about to take off.

She felt a sudden jerk, and heard a loud whistle. They were leaving. Scooting closer to the
window, she watched at they picked up speed and left the station. Licking her lips slightly,
Hermione couldn’t help the giant smile that made its way onto her face. Tears of happiness threaten
to fall, but she was able to keep them at bay. She reached into her book bag and took out her
school robes. Clarence told her they would change on the train. Pulling down the blind on the
window of the door, she started to change. Once she was done, Hermione stared out the window at the
scenery. The sun was bright and the grass looked beautiful. A small stream running alongside the
rails, and was reflecting the rays of the brilliant sunlight. This was it. It was really happening.
She was on her way to Hogwarts.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*I don't know where I'm going
But, I sure know where I've been
Hanging on the promises
In songs of yesterday
An' I've made up my mind,
I ain't wasting no more time
But, here I go again
Here I go again

An' here I go again on my own
Goin' down the only road I've ever known,
Like a drifter I was born to walk alone
An' I've made up my mind
I ain't wasting no more time*

*“Here I Go Again” WHITESNAKE*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“…And get this. After Mum is yelling at them for like two bloody hours, Fred has the nerve to
ask if this means they can’t experiment on the cat anymore!” Ron says, trying hard to contain his
laughter, but Harry and Draco were howling and he couldn’t contain himself. He tried to continue,
“Th-that’s get her all riled up and it goes on fro another two hours! I swear, those two are such a
riot.”

“Yes.” Draco agreed. “Your bother are such idiots…” He burst into laughter again.

Harry took a few gulps of air, then grinned. Ron’s twin brothers, Fred and George, *were* a
riot. They were the troublemaker of Hogwarts. This makes their second year out of school, and they
were doing great on their own. They owned a joke shop, Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. They had the best
joke merchandise around, even better than Zonko’s in Hogsmeade. The twins had been pulling pranks
ever since they’re first year and their last on Graduation Day. They were two-of-a-kind. Harry
liked them both pretty well. The twins were always good for a nice laugh.

Shaking his head slightly with a grin still plastered on his face, Harry turned to glance
outside the large window. The scenery had changed to open country. They still had a long way to go
until they returned to school. Ron’s voice broke into his musing.

“Exploding Snap?” Draco looked up and made a face. Harry and Ron just laughed. Last time they
had played Exploding Snap, the cards decided to “explode,” with a little help from Harry, when
Draco had the whole deck in his hands, close to his face while checking to make sure none of the
cards were missing from the last game. The end resulted in an extremely pissed Draco with his
eyebrows singed off and black marks on his face. Of course, this had happened in Gryffindor Common
Room and the whole room busted out laughing. Harry couldn’t remember seeing his friend blush so
much in his life. It was hilarious.

“Fine, but if one of you make the cards blow up in my face again, I will personally hunt both of
you down and use a few burning and stinging charms myself on a couple well-chosen areas on your
bodies! And believe me, E.D. will be the last thing on your guys’ mind when you‘re 60 and senile by
the time I‘m through! No little blue pill will take care of what I will do to you.” Draco’s voice
threatened. Harry and Ron tried to nod with serious faces, but Draco noticed Ron’s freckled face
start to turn red. Harry’s too was turning a shade of scarlet. And before they could help it, the
two friends felt like they were going to burst if they held it in any longer; they started howling
with laughter, doubling over, amusement shone on their faces. Draco didn’t think this was too
funny, so he just rolled his eyes and shook his head, “I swear, you two can be so immature
sometimes!”

Harry was able to get his chuckles under control and managed to respond, “Says the boy who
decided to squirt honey mustard in that little kid’s drink at Arby’s because he called you a sore
loser when you lost a game of rock-paper-scissors over who got the toilet next.” Harry tried, and
failed, to stifle the amusement in his voice. He pulled a solemn face, and tried to say in a
dignified voice, “I know, Draco, in your exact words I quote ‘I can’t believe that little snobby
fucker, who in the Hell does he think he is? I’ll show that little punk what a sore loser is
alright. I should teach him a lesson; let him know who he’s dealing with.’ But instead, you decided
to squirt honey mustard in the poor kid’s iced tea. Yes, I see how *we* lack in the immaturity
department and you are our superior.”

Ron guffawed and nodded, “Yeah, let’s all hail the mighty and mature Draco Sebastian Malfoy, for
his never-ending gestures mirroring his maturity and exceptional dignificationousness!” Ron stated
dramatically, bowing his head and hands in praise.

Harry chortled at Ron’s wording and gestures, “Come on, Ronnikins, you can do better than that,
can’t you? Seriously, is ‘dignificationousness’ even a word? What the hell does that even
*mean*? If you‘re coming form the root word ‘dignify,” our good buddy Drakes here is anything
but that!” The two friends started their laughter again at Draco’s scowl, and Ron pretended to look
affronted at Draco’s middle-finger hand gesture, while Harry just gave flipped him two middle
fingers back with a “Double Aces baby.”

With another trademark eye roll, along with that Malfoy smirk, Draco gave a small chuckle. His
friends were a riot. But he still needs to retaliate. “So, Weasley, *is*
‘dignificationousness’ even a word? If it is, it must be native to your home planet of Pluto or
something, ‘cause it sure all Hell ain’t no English.”

Harry gave a chuckle, “Funnily enough, Drakes, ‘ain’t no English’ isn’t exactly English either,
buddy.” Ron gave Draco a smirk, which Draco just ignored with a casual “whatever.”

“Let me guess, mate, English just isn’t your country?” Harry asked, looking at his friend, mirth
evident on his face.

“And FYI, Draco, ‘dignificationousness’ just happens to be a word in my dictionary, the rest of
the world just hasn’t been able to fess up and admit their overflowing admiration for the Great Ron
Weasley and His Words of Wisdom. I should be getting a memo from my old friend Newt Wibster. He
wants me to give him a few words for that definition book of his. We’re tight. His People are going
to contact My People to make a few tweaks in the fine print of the agreement. I heard I’ll be
getting quite the settlement, and I’m not giving your ass any.”

Draco’s made a face, “You better not be doing or giving anything with my ass.” Draco said in a
mock fierce voice, giving Ron a pointed look.

Ron just rolled his eyes, “Oh you wish I’d give your ass a chance. But hey mat4e, if you want, I
can give you and Harry over here a few minutes alone. I’m sure he has no objection to doing
anything with your ass.” Draco made another face, this time one that looked as if he was going to
retch.

It was Harry’s turn to give the eye roll, “Oh yeah, Ron, didn’t you know? I just turned gay like
five minutes ago. I just wondered what it’d be like, you know? And by the, it’s Noah Webster, not
Newt Wibster. And it’s called a dictionary, not definition book, you idiot.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what I meant. I guess English just isn’t my country either.”

“Nope, but the next time your Pluto People decide to visit, maybe you could ask them about Their
People getting in touch with Your People. You never know, they might be able to make some sense out
of half the shit that comes out of that large hole in your face you constantly shove food into.”
Harry said, trying to look somber, but failing miserably in doing so. The three friends started
laughing again, when the compartment door slides open.

“Anything off the trolly, dears?” A plump woman pushing a cart was peering at them. With a grin,
the out some money and bought their favorite treats from the cartload.

Ron stuffed a Chocolate Frog in his mouth and grinned up at the old woman. “I love you so much,
Trolly Witch, because without you, Yours Truly would die of starvation! I swear, if you were a
little younger and I was older, I would marry you!” The woman just laughed and muttered something
that sounded like, “These boys…they’ll never grow up.”

Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, and Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans littered
the compartment, as the boys settled back into their seats and devoured the treats.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++


*I’d like to stay up late, spend hours on the phone
Hanging out with all my friends and never being at home
I’m impolite and I make fun of everyone
I’m immature but I will stay this way forever
‘Til the day I die
I promise I won’t change (change, change)
So you better give up*

*I don’t wanna be told to grow up
And I don’t wanna change
I just wanna have fun
I don’t wanna be told to grow up
And I don’t wanna change
So you better give up
‘Cause I’m not gonna change
I don’t wanna grow up*

*“Grow Up” SIMPLE PLAN*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The compartment door slide open. Hermione looked up. It was a girl with flaming red hair. She
looked a little younger than herself. She hadn’t changed into her robes yet, and Hermione noticed
she was wearing a skirt that looked too short to be respectable. The girl had a few others on
either side of her; they all looked as if they had been cut from the same piece of cloth.

The redhead stepped forward. “Who are you, I don’t recall ever seeing you before?” Her voice
wasn’t friendly, more demanding. Hermione swallowed. “I asked you what your name was. What, are you
deaf?” Her voice was irritated by now, and she didn’t look remotely interested in Hermione.

Her name. Oh no. She was enjoying the peace and quiet, and this little redhead had to come and
mess it up. Who knows what would happen once her surname got out? “Um…it’s Hermione. And you
wouldn’t have seen me before because I’m new. I’m starting my Seventh Year. And you are?” She tried
to sound nice, hoping her voice didn’t betray her nervousness. The girl was inspecting her nails,
then looked back at Hermione.

“Oh really! What school did you transfer from? Where there any hot guys there?” She sounded
interested now.

“I was home schooled,” Hermione replied, wishing this girl would just leave.

“Oh. So, it‘s Hermione? Hermione what?” She sounded disappointed. Back to looking at her nails
again.

Hermione panicked. No, she couldn’t say Granger. But she couldn’t lie either. “Um…”

“What, you don’t even know your last name?” Then another voice sounded from down the corridor.
It sounded male.

“Oh Gin, it’s that hot Seventh Year, Brian, from Ravenclaw! He wants to see you!!!” One of the
girls on the side of the redhead, jumped up and down. The girl, Ginny, looked excited too. Without
another look at Hermione, she left, without bothering to close the door. With a sigh, Hermione
slide it shut. That was close. She felt guilty. Why should she feel ashamed about her surname?
Everyone was going to find out later anyway. Sliding back down into the seat, fresh waves of guilt
rolling in her stomach. Clarence said not to be ashamed. Hermione now wished she would’ve had the
guts to say, “My name is Hermione Granger,” in a proud voice, not stumble over her first name and
ignore the last!

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*Hey, Mr. Hero*

*Walking a thin, fine line*

*Under the microscope of life*

*Remember your roots, my friend*

*They’re right down below*

*‘Cause heroes come and heroes go*

*“Are You Ready” CREED*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

As the Hogwarts Express slowed, the butterflies in Hermione’s stomach seemed to multiply again.
She felt almost as if she was going to get ill. Five more minutes, the conductor had said. Five.
Getting her things all put away in her trunk, she then sat on the edge of her seat.

The corridor was crowded. She opened her compartment door, and then closed it again. She waited
until most people were off the train, before she finally joined the crowd in the corridor. People
were pushing and shoving, trying to get out of the many exit doors. As she stepped down to the
ground, Hermione tried to straighten her robes. But someone behind her pushed her out the way,
making her fall flat on her face. She hurried to stand, not wanting to get stomped on. Darkness had
fallen, and there were lanterns all around to give off light. A sign read Hogsmeade Station.

Boats. She was suppose to get on a boat with the First Years. Hermione spotted a lake, and after
a few minutes off getting heaved and jostled, she made her way to a dock. An extremely large man
was standing there, calling all First Years to come forth. Hermione made her way up with them.

“Whoa, Miss. You’re gonna need to make your way over to the carriages. This for Firs’ Years
only.” His voice was kind.

“I’m a new student.” Hermione squeaked, looking up at the man. They said boats. What if he
didn’t let her on? What if he told her she was mad? Fear started to creep into her stomach, but was
soon rushed out will a wave of relief when he put his hand on her shoulder in understanding and
stirred her towards the boats.

“O’, Sorry ‘bout tha’. Me mistake. You’re in the right place.”

She stuck out among the smaller children, but she tried not to notice. They were all looking up
at her, not knowing what to think. But when the boats came forth at their own accord, they changed
their interest to the boats.

The lake was dark. Hermione couldn’t make out much with just he lanterns. Suddenly, she heard
“ooohhhh’s” and “Aaahhhhh’s” coming from the younger First Years. “What, you don’t even know your
last name?” The castle was dark and you couldn’t make out the grounds. Lights were in the windows,
making the castle look so welcoming. Hermione watched, transfixed, as they neared the castle.

The boats were entering a small chamber beside the castle. The boats bumped into a dock and they
all filed out. The stonewalls were moist and had some moss growing on them. A large archway with
two wooden doors stood atop the stone steps. An aging witch was standing in front of the doors
leading them into the castle. She was thin and had her once chestnut but now slightly graying hair
pulled back into a firm bun on the back of her narrow head. She was wearing emerald robes and
looking at the newcomers behind square eyeglasses.

Hermione’s first impression of this woman was that she was strict. She looked like someone that
didn’t put up with any nonsense. Her voice was firm as she spoke, “Welcome to Hogwarts. In a
moment, you will pass through these doors and into Hogwarts. You will remain silent and stay two
single file lines.” With that, the doors opened on their own accord and they followed the woman
through the doors.

Hermione was trying to take everything in. There was a slight chill in the air as they made
their way down the torch-lit corridor. No one said a word as they stepped into a large chamber. The
woman had stopped and was now staring at the new pupils again. In her firm voice, she continued her
speech from before, “Welcome to Hogwarts. You will join start-of-term feast in the Great Hall
shortly, after you have been sorted into your houses. The Sorting Ceremony is very significant, as
is what house you will be sorted into. During your time at Hogwarts, your fellow housemate will be
like your family. You will have class with members of your house, sleep in your house dormitories,
and spend leisure time in your house Common Room.

“The four houses are: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Every house has its one
unique history and honor to uphold. Excellent witches and wizards have been produced by each of the
four houses. House points will be gained and lost as the year progresses. Your accomplishments and
success will earn you points, and your foolishness will lose points. At the end of the year, the
house having the most points will be rewarded to House Cup, a great honor. Bear in mind your
actions will reflect upon your house.

“Now I if you would quietly follow me, the Sorting Ceremony will begin.” With that, the students
made their way into another corridor and approached the Entrance Hall. Hermione thought it looked
magnificent. The ceiling was high and the floor was made of marble. Designs decorated the floor and
walls. Another set of large double doors stood across the Hall. Following the rest of the students
into the Great Hall, Hermione’s mouth fell open. It looked grand. Thousands of floating candles
provided the lighting over four large tables, which is where the rest of the student were currently
sitting, looking at the newcomers. Golden, shiny plates and goblets blanketed the tables. Another
long table sat at the other end of the Great Hall, where the staff sat, facing the students.
Hermione immediately recognized the wizard sitting in the center of the staff table as Albus
Dumbledore. He was watching the students make their way down an aisle between two of the house
tables where a four-legged stool sat with a black, pointed, wizard’s hat on it.

Hermione’s attention was drawn to the enchanted ceiling; she had read about it in *Hogwarts, A
History*. The ceiling was enchanted to look like sky, and right now , it was a silky midnight
blue with white, shining starts strewn across it. It looked breathtaking.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry was grinning with his friends as he made his way into the Great Hall. They were all
looking forward to the start-of-term feast. The food from the train hadn’t filled them up, and the
feast was always magnificent. He made his way to the Gryffindor table and sat down, Ron and Draco
on each side. The three boys were currently discussing the upcoming Quidditch season, as they were
all on the house team. Ron was the Keeper, he had been since Oliver Wood graduated in their Fifth
Year. Draco was a Chaser, also ever since Fifth Year. Harry was the Gryffindor Seeker ever since
his first year at Hogwarts. He had been made Quidditch Captain in his Sixth Year. He was excited
about this year. Right now, Gryffindor holds the Quidditch Cup; they had the last six years. Harry
didn’t intend on that changing this year.

The First Years were finally making their way into the Great Hall, led by Professor McGonagall.
“Finally, it’s about bloody well time! I’m starving!” Harry laughed at Ron’s words.

“Ron, you’re *always* starving!” Draco pointed out, s light smirk on his lips. Harry nodded
in agreement, then with a grin still on his face, he turned to look at he new students. His eyes
wondered over all of them, and then stopped dead on one he recognized. She wasn’t a First Year.
Harry knew that. She was at least seventeen. It was the same girl he met at the Ministry. The same
girl he had wished good luck on her Apparation Test. The same girl that came out and hugged him. It
was Hermione. The same girl that had almost-kissed him…

She looked nervous, but Harry could see a grin on her face. She was admiring the Enchanted
Ceiling now. Harry watched her closely, not listening as Ron said something to him.

“Harry. Harry!” Ron gave him a slight shove to get him out of his trance.

“What?” Harry asked, still not breaking his gaze.

“Are you alright, mate?”

Harry finally turned to look at his friend. “I’m fine, what do you want?”

“What do you make of that tall girl? She sure is big for a First Year, don’t you think?” Draco
leaned in, looking at them with a puzzled expression as well.

Harry grinned slightly. “That’s her.” He whispered softly.

“Who?”

“That’s Hermione.”

“Hermione? Who’- wait that girl from the Ministry? The one that kissed you?!” Ron asked, his
eyes wide.

Harry nodded, turning his gaze back to Hermione. She turned around now, looking over the
students. Her eyes roamed over the Gryffindor table, and her gaze met Harry’s. Harry grinned at
her, watching her eyes widen slightly. Then a blush crept into her cheeks. ‘*She looks so
cute!*’ Harry thought, as they continued to stare at each other. Harry gave a small wave, which
she shyly returned. Maybe this year was going to be even better than he thought…

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was him! It was the boy from the Ministry. Hermione couldn’t believe it. This was
embarrassing. Did he still remember her? *‘Of course he does! He just waved to you!’* taking a
deep breath, she looked away and at the motionless hat sitting on the stool. Suddenly, the brim
opened wide and it began to sing loud to the noiseless Great Hall:

*Long ago when I was first anew*

*Hogwarts School was just starting to brew*

*Four friends are widely known*

*For starting this school of stone*

*Never another quartet could be found*

*For these were the best of friends*

*Disputes broke out*

*But quickly followed with amends*

*There was courageous Gryffindor*

*As too the clever Ravenclaw*

*Slytherin, ambitious and cunning*

*Hufflepuff, a forever-loyal friend*

*So fro many peaceful years*

*The four worked in harmony*

*Teaching young witches and wizards*

*All they knew*

*The bravest were picked by Gryffindor*

*For him to teach and train*

*While Slytherin preferred the*

*Shrewd and with ancestors absolute*

*The smartest went to Ravenclaw*

*She challenged their keen minds*

*And Hufflepuff took the loyal*

*And truest, teaching them magic of all kinds*

*So the founders taught accordingly*

*Dishing out their knowledge and know how*

*“But what would become of the sorting”*

*They asked, “In many years from now,*

*When we are dead and gone?”*

*Who else could choose so accurate*

*And here’s where I fit in*

*For many years*

*I have crowned newest pupils*

*Sorting them their house*

*And yet have I been wrong*

*So step up and don’t be shy*

*For there’s nothing you can hide*

*I can see inside your head*

*But don’t fear me*

*For I am just looking*

*And telling you in which house*

*You ought to be!*

The hat finished and lay motionless again. The Great Hall erupted in applause. Once it died down
a bit, a murmuring broke out, people asking each other about the new girl. Professor McGonagall
came forward, “You will come forth when I call your name, I will place the Sorting Hat on your
head, and you will be sorted into your house. Sylvia Ashworth.” Hermione watched as a small girl
with dark blonde hair stepped up to the professor. She looked so small. Nervously the girl sat down
on the stool. Her eyes were wide and fearful. Professor McGonagall dropped the worn, black hat on
the girl’s head. It was too big, and covered over her nervous, blue eyes. The hat came to life
again. It appeared to be thinking. Hermione watched, intrigued, as the brim of the hat opened wide
again. She wondered briefly if it was going to sing again. But no, instead it yelled in a loud
voice for the whole Great Hall to hear, “RAVENCLAW!”

One of the center tables erupted into applause. The girl grinned and hopped off the seat, making
her way to the cheering table and took a place on a bench.

Hermione swallowed nervously, also biting her lip. The professor called out the next name and a
sandy-haired boy came up to the stool, this time the Sorting Hat shouted Slytherin.

The Sorting continued, Hermione getting more nervous by the second. They were in the F’s.

“Cline Fortinate”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Jacob Fysfer”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

“Genevieve Garter”

“SLYTHERIN!”

Hermione noticed the hat spent different amounts of time of different newcomers. Sometimes it
would shout out the house as soon as it was on the person’s head; other times it would take a
longer time, and Hermione could almost swear it looked as if the hat talked to some of them.
Franklin Gooderson was just declared a Ravenclaw.

Professor McGonagall looked back down at the parchment she was using to read the names off. In a
clear, ringing voice, she announced Hermione’s name, “Hermione Granger!”

The Great Hall was already quiet, but at the sound of Professor McGonagall’s voice, everyone
went completely silent. The Ravenclaw table’s greeting to Franklin was punctured at once.
Everyone’s eyes were on the small group of new students, trying to figure out which one it was. A
murmuring took over the silence as the seconds pressed on. With a deep, nervous breath, Hermione
stepped forward.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*Yes, I’m the one who*

*The only one who*

*Would carry on this far*

*“Torn” CREED*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

She tried to keep her head held high and show a nice, brisk walk. But she was nervous. She could
feel sweat slowly slide down her forehead and down the side of her face. Her eyes seemed unfocused
and the short walk seemed to never end. The Hall had grown completely silent when she stepped
forward from the throng of new pupils.

She tried to swallow, but her throat was tight. It hurt. She didn’t look around to anyone, never
taking her eyes from the stool. Her destination. She felt as if her feet were too big and she might
stumble any second. But she didn’t. With another deep breath, she turned around and sat, facing her
peers. The witch lowered the Sorting Hat onto her head, and before she knew it, the Great Hall
disappeared and all Hermione saw was the black rim of inside the old hat.

“Ah…a Granger.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry sighed as Franklin Gooderson practically skipped to the Ravenclaw table. He was getting
hungry, and he wished this would hurry up. He also was keen on seeing what house Hermione would
sorted into. He watched disinterestedly as his Transfiguration professor held up the parchment to
call out the next name. His eyes wondered over the group again. Less than half to go.

“Hermione Granger.” his professor’s voice rang out. Harry’s eyes widened. *’Hermione
WHAT?’* Silence, then a murmuring fell over the Hall. Harry watched as the seventeen-year-old
girl stepped away from the crowd with his mouth agape. She walked, almost proudly to the stool.
‘NO! NO! NO!’ were Harry’s only thoughts. *‘Not a Granger. Not at Hogwarts. They were exiled. How
could Hermione be a Granger?!?!’* Harry’s mind was reeling. He felt his friends’ gazes on him.
Looking at them, they both mirrored his own dumbfounded expression. Ron’s eyebrows disappeared
under his hairline and Draco looked speechless. ‘Maybe they were remembering what happened at the
Ministry’ Harry thought. Then his eyes widened even more. The Ministry! *‘Oh God! He had talked
to her! He had wished her luck! They had shared a hug and even an almost-kiss!’* With a Granger.
No. He had been thinking this was going to be a great year, and with Hermione being here, he
thought it might even be better. How wrong he had been!

He had been slightly attracted to this girl. A Granger. Harry tried to swallow, but his throat
didn’t seem to be working. Of course, the first girl he finds himself halfway-attracted t is off
limits. Not only off limits, but far worse, she’s a bloody GRANGER at that! He felt anger boil up
inside him, though he didn’t know why. She had lied to him. Why didn’t she tell him her last name!
He was a Potter, dammit. He shouldn’t have ever even talked to her.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Let’s see. You have a very brilliant mind, yes. Ravenclaw could help you with that. Also very
ambitious. You have exceptional bravery, and a thirst to prove yourself. But what house would suit
you best? Hhhmmmmmm. Difficult. You would do well in any house.”

The hat’s voice was whispering in her ear. Hermione tried to shut off her emotions and not let
how nervous she was show.

“You are a very strong-willed person. .”

*‘I don’t want to do just well’ Hermione thought, remembering Clarence’s words. ‘I want…no I
will be EXTRAORIDARY. I have to, for Clarence!’*

The Sorting Hat must’ve heard her thoughts. “Extraordinary, huh? Not settling for anything less
than you can be? That’s a good attitude to have. Let’s see, I shall put you in…

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Hermione let out a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. She felt the Sorting Hat
being lifted off her head. She wasn’t met with applause. No, it was still dead silence. All eyes
were on her. Hermione could feel her face flush with embarrassment. They didn’t want her. Her own
house wasn’t going to welcome her. She tried to keep her head still held high as she made her way
over to her house table. Stares. Everyone was staring. There was a soft applause, and Hermione saw
it coming from the headmaster. The walk to the table was much like the one to the Sorting Hat.
Awkward and silent.

Finally, she reached the table and sat on the end. No one was sitting within a four-plate
diameter of her. Because she was a Granger. A Granger. Practically vermin to them. Swallowing hard,
she was relieved when Professor McGonagall went on with the Sorting. *‘Hopefully is will get the
attention off me*.’ Hermione thought with an inward sigh.

But it didn’t. Hermione was still receiving uneasy looks and a few downright glares. And not
just from her fellow housemates either.

The rest of the Sorting went on quickly. Once the last student had been sorted into Slytherin,
the headmaster stood up.

“Welcome back to another year at Hogwarts. I would like to welcome our new students, as well as
our returning ones. I am glad you have all made it back and are in good health. As I am sure many
of you are quite hungry, I will save my speech until after our delicious banquet. So please, tuck
in!”

Hermione’s eyes widened as food appeared suddenly on the wooden tables. Hermione looked around,
and saw everyone dig in. Hermione smiled slightly; she was starving. Through all the excitement
today, she hadn’t eaten all that much. But now was a good time as any to make up for it. The food
looked luscious. She began making a plate of food, trying to ignore all the looks she was getting
on her lonely end of the table.

After all the food had been cleared, Dumbledore stood again for his speech. “I know this
upcoming year will be a great one, as every year is. I just have a few start-of-term notices and
then you can be on your way to your dormitories. First, I would like to tell the new students, and
remind a few of our older ones too, that the Forbidden Forest is strictly out of bounds. Also,
Quidditch trials will be held soon, please notify a team captain if you are interested in joining
your house team. The House Cup is another thing to keep in mind. I encourage you all to be a
positive force rather than a negative one with the house points. I’m sure I don’t need to remind
our Fifth and Seventh Years about the important tests they will be taking near the end of term.
Lastly, I would like to announce this year’s Head Boy and Girl, if you could just stand. We have
Miss Susan Bones from Hufflepuff and Mr. Harry Potter from Gryffindor.” An applause broke out, as a
blushing Susan stood from her house table, and Harry stood from Gryffindor.

Hermione’s jaw dropped. Did he say Harry Potter? Hermione looked to see who this Potter was, and
her eyes widened. It was Harry! Harry from the Ministry! Similar thoughts were going through her
mind as they did in Harry’s earlier. *‘Oh my God, I showed affection to a* Potter*!?!? I
brushed lips with a* POTTER*!’* Hermione had many thoughts swimming in her head as she
watched Harry sit back down. He glanced her way and their gaze met. He was sitting near the middle
of the table, but Hermione could still see the anger and loathing in his eyes. But she wouldn’t be
deterred. She had been expecting to meet a Potter here. She just wasn’t expecting it to be Harry.
He still held her gaze. His face unreadable. His amazing green eyes were trying to stare her down.
She didn’t turn away. She wasn’t weak. She wasn’t afraid. He didn’t look happy at all. Hermione
could tell this was a shock for him. It was for her as well, but she had a leg up this time. He
hadn’t been expecting a Granger to show up this year, but she had expected to meet a Potter. At
least she wasn’t completely shell shock like he was.

Hermione remembered her conversation in the library after “The Accident.” She had told Clarence
that with any luck, she would never see him again. But Clarence told her she would. Clarence knew
who he was. The only question was, how? Why did Clarence recognize him? What was so special about
this Harry Potter that Hermione didn’t know?

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*She's a rebel
She's a saint
She's salt of the earth
And she's dangerous

She's a rebel
Vigilante
Missing link on the brink
Of destruction*

*“She’s A Rebel” GREENDAY*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

He held her gaze. He wasn’t going to back down. He could almost see the wheels turning n her
head. *‘Take that, Granger.’* he thought, *‘You get to be the shocked one for a second.’*
She wouldn’t look away. Her cinnamon eyes were unreadable. The only thing Harry could see in them
was determination. *‘For what?’* Harry mused. *‘What could she possibly be so goddamned
determined about?’*

Everyone was beginning to exit the Great Hall. Dumbledore had got up and said a few more words,
but Harry missed them. They were forced to look away from each other as more people were beginning
to leave. With a sigh, Harry got up and made his way to the double doors, Ron and Draco close
behind.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione wandered up the next set of stairs to the Seventh Year Girls’ dormitories. Reading the
names on the outside of each door. Finally, she found her name, along with five other girls.
Hermione opened the door and was met with a few other girls. Hermione didn’t know their names. They
were all looking at her, well more like glaring.

Five beds were taken up, and a sixth, was completely bare. She guessed that one was hers, but
none of her stuff was here. “Er…where are my things?”

A girl with dark hair reached over into her nightstand and took out a big, red marker. Making
her way to the door, the girl opened it. Hermione watched as she made a big X through Hermione’s
name. “This isn’t your dorm, it’s upstairs. Your *things* are by the stairs, you can leave
now.” The girl stated nastily, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Hermione was taken aback, and looked down the corridor. Yes, her things were by the next
stairwell. Without another word, Hermione levitated her trunk and Miguel up the stairs.

It was darker up here and not as cozy. Opening the first door on her left, Hermione entered. The
room looked like it hadn’t been used in years. Setting her trunk down, and with a flick of her
wand, candles appeared in midair. The room was dirty and everything was covered in dust. Licking
her lips, Hermione went over to her bed. With another wave of her wand, she stripped the bedding
and put on fresh sheets. Opening her trunk, she got out her violet and emerald quilt. She brought
it to keep away more than just nightmares. Setting everything up for the next, Hermione tried to
hum tunelessly so she wouldn’t have to think. She wouldn’t have to think about tomorrow. She
wouldn’t have to think about how unwelcoming the school had been. She wouldn’t have to think about
the look of utter loathing on everyone’s face. As she continued getting out her book and using a
few cleaning spells, her thoughts were still on tomorrow.

Stepping into the bathroom to brush her teeth, Hermione had to use a few cleaning spells in
there as well. It would be alight staying up here all alone. It would be like her own room. Just
hers. Tucking herself into bed, she looked around once more to the dingy walls and still
dust-covered hardwood floor. It would take a little while, but she could get it all cleaned up.
With that thought and dreading thoughts of tomorrow, she extinguished the candles. Only the
moonlight through the faded curtains could be seen. Rolling onto her side, she tried to go to
sleep.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry was emerging from the bathroom and jumped onto his bed. It felt great being back at
Hogwarts. He looked at his dorm mates. Ron and Draco were getting ready for bed, Neville was trying
to button his pajama shirt, and Jeremy, who was lying on his bed, looked over at Harry.

“Hey, mate, what do you think of that Granger chick? Can you believe it?” Jeremy’s voice was
casual, and he changed positions so he was lying on his side, his head propped up on his elbow.

Harry shrugged. “I don’t think anything of her.” Harry lied. “I don’t know why she’s here, but
she sure as hell doesn’t belong.”

Jeremy nodded, “Seriously, a Granger at Hogwarts! I wonder if she realizes just how hard it’s
going be on her here.” he laughed. “The bitch won’t know what hit her. She’ll be back on the train
by noon tomorrow.”

Harry shrugged. Wanting to change the subject, Harry asked, “So, how was your guys’ summer?”
Pretty soon, they were all sharing what happened over the summer, but tomorrow was still in the
back of all their minds. *‘What is going to happen?’* Harry wondered as he lay down on his
stomach, resting his chin on his forearms. This was going to get interesting. What is the rest of
the school going to have in store for this outsider?

Right, so what do you guys think? This is the chapter a lot of you have been waiting for. How do
you think it went? PLEASE REVIEW. Oh, and did the sorting song suck? I dunno, I had no clue what to
write for it. So review and until next time, ROCK ON PEACE OUT AND STAY RIGHTEOUS!

*
*



6. Front Page News
------------------

**Right. Well, first off, I was a little put out after a review I had gotten, so I don’t really
feel like posting anything, but I am anyway. Anyway, I didn’t edit this, so there may be typos. I
apologize before hand. Also, 2 chapters ago, Harry was singing a song, it’s called Powder by
Yellowcard. I forgot to mention that in a disclaimer. Not mine. I think that’s about it, and just a
warning, this chapter is kinda long. And, things are not easy in this one either.**

**Language. That’s another thing. The swearing may go up just a bit in this one, but don’t be
alarmed. The whole story shouldn’t have too much cussing in it, just at certain parts. I think
that’s it. Don’t forget to REVIEW!!!!**

**Recap! [rather long but I couldn’t help myself!]**

*She couldn’t keep the smile off her face, ‘This was it.’*

*It was sad, really. Hogwarts was so amazing, Harry couldn’t picture not coming back here next
September.*

*“Are you ready to go to Hogwarts, Hermione?”*

*“I think it’s best if I do this alone.”*

*She was on her way to Hogwarts.*

*“Let me guess, mate, English just isn’t your country?”*

*“These boys…they’ll never grow up.”*

*“Um…it’s Hermione. And you wouldn’t have seen me before because I’m new. I’m starting my
Seventh Year. And you are?”*

*“What, you don’t even know your last name?”*

*“What, you don’t even know your last name?”*

*“That’s Hermione.”*

*“Hermione? Who’- wait that girl from the Ministry? The one that kissed you?!” Ron asked, his
eyes wide.*

*With a deep, nervous breath, Hermione stepped forward.*

*‘NO! NO! NO!’ were Harry’s only thoughts. ‘Not a Granger. Not at Hogwarts. They were exiled.
How could Hermione be a Granger?!?!’ Harry’s mind was reeling*

*‘Oh God! He had talked to her! He had wished her luck! They had shared a hug and even an
almost-kiss!’ With a Granger.*

*“GRYFFINDOR!”*

*What was so special about this Harry Potter that Hermione didn’t know?*

*What could she possibly be so goddamned determined about?’*

*A girl with dark hair reached over into her nightstand and took out a big, red marker. Making
her way to the door, the girl opened it. Hermione watched as she made a big X through Hermione’s
name. “This isn’t your dorm, it’s upstairs.*

*Harry shrugged. “I don’t think anything of her.” Harry lied. “I don’t know why she’s here,
but she sure as hell doesn’t belong.”*

*This was going to get interesting. What is the rest of the school going to have in store for
this outsider?*

**Chapter 6: Front Page News**

Harry looked around his circular dormitory. He had awoken a little earlier than usual, but Harry
didn’t sleep the best last night. The hangings from each of the four post beds were still closed,
and loud snores filled the silence of the room. Harry licked his lips slightly, and picked up his
book bag. He noiselessly made his way down the stairs and into the Common Room, which had a
scattered few early birds, just lounging around, waiting for their friends so they can go to
breakfast. There was a dull murmur. Most of the students were younger, all anticipating the return
to classes or just beginning them.

Harry crossed the room and made his way out of the Portrait Hole, and to the Great Hall.

He was standing just outside the open doors, biting his lip. ‘*Was she in there?*’ he
wondered, with slight apprehensiveness.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione made her way down the many stairs and corridors to the Great Hall. It was early in the
morning, so the corridors were deserted. She was tired; she hardly slept at all last night.
Hermione didn’t know if it was anticipation or her nervousness that kept her up all night, but this
was the second day in a row where she didn’t get a good night’s sleep and that wasn’t good. With a
large yawn, Hermione opened the door into the Entrance Hall. She made her way to the open doors
that led into the Great Hall for breakfast. Not many students were there yet, and in look
relatively empty in contrast to last night’s attendance from the fantastic banquet.

Hermione walked to the same area of the Gryffindor table she ate at the night before. She tried
not to notice the eyes that were following her to her seat. This was going to be a long day.
Hermione could already tell. And from the looks of things, it wasn’t going to be a pleasant day
either.

She reached into her book bag and took out a Charms book. Propping *Advanced Charmwork*
against the nearest juice jug, she began reading, while eating her eggs and toast.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

With a deep breath, Harry finally walked in to breakfast, and his eyes scanned the almost-empty
breakfast table, until they landed on a bushy-haired brunette, her head buried in a book. She was
sitting in the same spot from last night, Harry noticed as he made his way over to the table. He
sat down, a well away from Hermione, never taking his eyes off her. But she didn’t seem to notice
him at all because her eyes never left the pages of her book. She would turn the page every so
often, but other than that, she just sat there and ate her food quietly.

Harry finally broke his gaze from her and began piling food onto his plate, trying to ignore her
like she was him and everyone else in the Great Hall. He tried to focus on his food, and when
people were starting to fill in to the Great Hall, it made it a lot easier. Draco and Ron sat
across from him, and Professor McGonagall began handing out class schedules.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione was looking over her schedule for the fifth time when a sudden loud screeching noise
filled her ears that made her jump. Hundreds of owls were swarming around the Great Hall, dropping
off letters and parcels to the students. Her eyes were wide as she looked around at how many there
were, and all the different breeds. She noticed a familiar looking barn owl swoop down on her. It
was Clarence’s. Hermione gave a small smile, before reaching for the envelope tied to its foot. She
quickly disposed of the envelope and read her letter:

*Hermione,*

*I just wanted to let you know how proud I was and wish you good luck on your first day. I’m
sure it’s going to be hectic and confusing. I hope you stick it out and don’t let the other
students get you down. Remember you are exceptionally gifted, and this will help you that much more
to reach your full potential. I wish you well, and once again, the best of luck!*

*Love,*

*Clarence*

Hermione gave a warm smile. This was just like Clarence, to do something special for her. Even
if it was just a little note, Hermione knew she was in her thoughts. And she really appreciated
that. After reading the note over again, Hermione folded it up and put it in one of the pockets in
her robes. The way things were looking so far, it wasn’t going to be a very good day, and she just
might need to look at that note again for encouragement later on. The owls were beginning to
disperse and breakfast would soon be over.

Hermione gathered up her things and exited the Great Hall, ignoring all the lingering eyes that
fell on her as she made her departure. She had Charms with Professor Flitwick first, and she wanted
to be there early to get a good seat.

There were people in the corridors, some talking to their friends, others just waiting around.
Hermione made her way to the classroom, looking straight ahead, and once again, paying no attention
to anyone. But just because she wasn’t looking at them, she felt all their eyes on her. The
feelings from last night resurfaced, and she began to feel uncoordinated and gawky. How she made it
to Charms was a mystery to her.

The class was empty, as she expected, so she just took a seat near the front and got her book
back out.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry and his friends were making their way into the Charms classroom. They had that first with
the Ravenclaw students. As they walked into the half-filled room, they took their place in the
back, at their usual table. Harry got out his things and talked with his friends until Professor
Flitwick came into the class. He was extremely short and had to stand on a large pile of books to
reach his podium to teach. He sat his wand down and looked over the class.

“Good morning, class.” And with that, be began the role call. When he got to Hermione Granger’s
name, there was a small, unnoticeable to most, pause. But after quick hesitation, he called her
name and waited for her to say “present.” Once the attendance was finished, he continued, “Right.
So today we will be reviewing over a few of the rather simple charms from the last few years.
First, we will begin with the Summoning Charm. Can anyone please demonstrate the wand movement and
enunciate the incantation?” A few hands went up at Professor Flitwick’s request, including Hermione
Granger’s.

The professor looked slightly surprised at her hand, but called on Dean Thomas instead.

“*Acio*, professor.” and with that, he gave his wand a quick flick. Professor Flitwick
nodded his head and gave a small applause.

“Very good, Mr. Thomas. Ten points to Gryffindor. I’m glad you remembered. If I’m not mistaken,
I believe you had a spot of trouble with that one, but you have overcome it. Excellent. Now, moving
on, I would like the rest of you to try it out. Please summon the cushions on the far side of the
room to you. Carry on. And remember, swish and flick.” he said, waving his arm through the air for
emphasis.

Soon, cushions were flying in all directions in the Charms classroom. Some students were a
little rusty; others had no problem at all. The trio didn’t have too many problems, and were able
to carry on a decent conversation while practicing.

The cushion Ron was trying to summon zoomed off course slightly and hit Harry in the head. “Hey!
Watch what you’re doing.” Harry remarked, rubbing the side of his head where the cushion had hit.
It didn’t hurt, but it didn’t feel too good either.

Harry walked passed Draco to retrieve his cushion, which had been knocked out of his hands when
Ron’s cushion had bumped into him. He bent down and picked it up, then made his way back to Ron and
Draco. He looked around the room, seeing how everyone else was doing to gauge how much longer they
would be working on this charm.

Harry gave a slight laugh when a book hit Neville, a fellow Gryffindor, in the nose. His aim was
poor and he hit the book about a foot to the left of his cushion by mistake. When he was younger,
Neville had been rather clumsy and awkward with magic. His lack of ability had subsided slightly,
but he still wasn’t nearly as skilled as Harry. But he had improved, and he was great in Herbology.
Neville wasn’t Harry’s best mate, but still a nice friend.

Harry continued his gaze across the room, stopping at the sight of a familiar brunette. He
watched as her cushion zoomed straight towards her perfectly. She smiled slightly, pleased with
herself, before using a Banishing Charm to make it zoom back to the wall. ‘*This must not be too
hard for her,*’ Harry mused, as he watched her do the same task over and over flawlessly.

“Hey, mate, what are you staring at?” It was Draco’s voice. When Harry continued staring across
the room, Draco followed his gaze. It was Granger. He hit Ron on the arm go get his attention and
motioning with his head towards Hermione. Ron raised his eyebrows at Draco, inclining his head in
Harry’s direction. Draco just shrugged silently, before nudging Harry.

“What?” Harry asked, looking at his friends’ inquisitive looks.

“What were you doing, mate? You kind of zoned out on us for a few minutes there. What were you
looking at?” It was Ron’s voice.

Harry just gave a shrug and shook his head, “Nothing, just seeing how many people were still
having difficulties with this damn charm. It’d be nice to move on to another.” Harry responded,
nonchalantly, glancing at his wristwatch. “We only have about 10 more minutes ‘til Potions.”

He missed the look Ron and Draco shared, and began to pack his things up before returning to
practice the Summoning Charm.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione was making her way down to the dungeons for Double Potions with the Slytherins. She
noticed the air get a slight chill to it as she continued her route to the Professor Snape’s
classroom. The torches that lit the corridors flickered more often, creating a rather morbid
feeling to creep into the pit of Hermione’s stomach. Still, she pressed on until she found the
right dungeons. The large, wooden door was firmly closed, so she sat down on the stone floor. The
walls were cold and moist, and the air was slightly humid. She sat there for a good two or three
minutes, reflecting on her first day so far, before being joined by a group of Slytherins.

The leader of the group was a tall boy with dark blonde hair. He had a pug looking girl on his
left, and a pale boy on his right. Hermione could feel his gaze on her, but tried to ignore it and
brought her knees to her chest, crossing her ankles, and then wrapping her arms possessively around
her folded legs. She heard a few of them call out to her, and none of the names were too
flattering. *‘Just ignore it, and they’ll stop,’* she thought over and over, trying to block
them out.

“Aw, look everyone, this little bitch it trying to play ignorant. Either that, or she’s just
plain deaf.” It was the pale boy. He had his arms crossed and with an amused expression on his
face.

*‘Just ignore them.’*

*+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++*

*Well, I smell T-R-O-U-B-L-E...*

*“T-R-O-U-B-L-E” TRAVIS TRITT*

*+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++*

The boy in the middle stepped out, his lips twisted in what looked like a trademark smirk.
“What’s wrong, Granger? *Are* you deaf? Can you not hear us trying to get your attention.?”
Still, Hermione would not meet his loathing gaze. He crouched down in front of her, but Hermione
still looked away. “Tell me something, are your parents a witch and a wizard? Are they proud of
their little girl trying to be all big and brave?”

Hermione finally turned her head to meet his cold, ice blue eyes. “It’s none of your business.”
She said, trying to sound firm and confident. The boy just gave a soft snort.

“I’m just asking if your parents are magical or not.” He replied, not looking deterred in the
slightest.

“They’re Muggles, now please just leave me alone.” Hermione responded coldly. The corridor was
beginning to fill up, and a dull murmuring was heard in the background. People were most likely
talking about what they were witnessing right now.

“Muggles? Really, I guess that just makes you a dirty, little Mudblood, doesn’t it? ‘Cause
that’s what you are; nothing more than a filthy, Mudblood bitch that’s trying to play a hero. Guess
what you piece of filth, we don’t like Mudbloods or Grangers, so you’re just shit out of luck.” His
voice was low and menacing. His eyes were two, blue ice chips and he was giving her a nasty look,
almost daring her to say something back to him,

Hermione just shrugged, “Well, I’m not fond of assholes or jerks, so I guess the feeling’s
mutual.” She stood her ground. Hermione watched as he took this in. His expression didn’t change,
and he was about to respond when the professor made his way to the door.

“Stand up, Avery, you are holding up the class.” Hermione looked up at the professor. He was
wearing all black and had matching oily hair that hung in his pale face. He had a rather large nose
and cold eyes. His voice was a little more than a mere whisper, but it was commanding. Avery shot
her one last looked before, to Hermione’s delight, stood up and joined his group of flunkies.
Hermione stood as well. Professor Snape opened the door and the students followed him inside.

Hermione took the first table she saw, which was near the door in the back. She sat her things
down and seated herself on the wooden stool. She let out a long, shaky breath then looked around.
There were tables lined up, and she watched as the Slytherins went to one side of the room, and the
Gryffindors moved to the other. Hermione reached over and began assembling her things on the table.
Hermione had the whole table to herself so she could space her ingredients and other things out.
She noticed people were looking at her, then at their friends, almost with a knowing glance, but
she just rolled her eyes. The sooner they got used to her, the better because this was just flat
out ridiculous. Hermione watched as the professor left the room and then met a pair of emerald eyes
belonging to someone standing right in front of her.

It was him.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry made a beeline for His Table through the crowd, only to find is already preoccupied.
*She* was at His Table. Ever since First year, Harry, Ron, and Draco had sat there. Everyday.
Ron and Draco were on either side of him, eyeing their table as well.

Ron gave a shrug and said, “We’ll just have to tell her to move,” his voice held a hint of
anticipation and delight. The trio proceeded to the table. There was no way she was going to sit
there.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*I wanna push you around, well I will, well I will
I wanna push you down, well I will, well I will
I wanna take you for granted, I wanna take you for granted, yeah I will, I will*

*“Push” MATCHBOX 20*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“You’re sitting at our table,” the redhead beside Harry informed her coolly. Hermione just
raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“Er…excuse me?” She asked incredulously, afraid she might have misheard him.

This time it was Harry. “You’re sitting at our table. We always sit here. You can find somewhere
else to sit.” His voice was quiet, and his green pools were looking into her brown ones. Hermione
looked at him in disbelief. Did he expect her to move? Seriously? Who in the Hell did he think he
was?

“Oh my God, you have got to be kidding me.” Hermione said with a slight scoff. They all looked
at her unblinkingly. Harry’s eyes showed his anger.

He had a bite of impatience in his voice this time, “No we’re not kidding. Now
move…*Granger*.” He said her last name with emphasis, with a hint of accusation. His eyes
still burning into hers.

Hermione’s expression hardened. She looked at them, not daunted one bit. “Well, I guess that’s
just too bad then, because I’ve already got my things out and I have no inclination to move at all.
So it looks like for today, you are going to have to handle sitting somewhere else; there are
plenty of other empty tables. You never know, it might be a good experience for you…*Potter*,”
Hermione retorted, her tone calm but definite, using the same tone as he did when using his
surname.

They held each other’s gaze, each silently daring the other to look away and show weakness.
Harry and Hermione’s little battle didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the class. Gryffindors and
Slytherins alike watched in heavy silence as the two shared a stare-off. It wasn’t even about the
damn table, and Hermione knew it. No, he was sizing her up. Harry was seeing if she’d back down. In
the beginning it may had been about the table, but not anymore. He was trying to show her up. Maybe
he wanted her to feel inferior to him? Hermione wasn’t sure, and frankly she didn’t care. He could
get angry and try to push her around. But she had news for him: She was going to stand her
ground.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*Well I won't back down
No I won't back down
You could stand me up at the gates of Hell
But I won't back down
No I'll stand my ground
Won't be turned around
And I'll keep this world from draggin' me down
Gonna stand my ground
And I won't back down.

Hey, baby. There ain't no easy way out.
Hey, I will stand my ground.
And I won't back down.

Well I know what's right
I got just one life
In a world that keeps on pushin' me around
But I'll stand my ground
And I won't back down.*

*“Won’t Back Down” TOM PETTY AND THE HEARTBREAKERS*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry couldn’t believe she was going to be so difficult. This was His Table dammit! He continued
to stare into her chocolate pools, his own blazing in anger. She was being stubborn and he was
about to make another remark when Professor Snape walked in. He never liked Harry, so finding him
out of his seat after the bell was a good reason as any to cost Gryffindor points.

“Potter! Would you, Weasley, and Malfoy care to take a seat. Ten points from Gryffindor for
being tardy.

Harry shot daggers at Hermione one more time before responding a stiff, “Yes, professor,” and
finding another table with Ron and Draco. The only vacant one left was beside Granger.

After calling role call, Professor Snape began making notes on the board for them to copy about
a difficult potion to relieve extreme pain. Harry started copying the notes in his untidy scrawl,
but his mind was elsewhere.

‘*Who in the bloody Hell did she think she was?’* Oh, he would put her straight. He had
been at this school first, and if she thought she was going to come here and start screwing things
up, she had another thing coming. He glanced over in her direction, and saw that she was copying
the notes down with zeal and paying to up most attention to Professor Snape’s words. After about
ten minutes of copying the notes, the directions appeared on the board and they got to work on
their potion.

It was just like Snape to start them out with a complex potion on their first day. Harry hated
him with a passion, and the feeling was mutual.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione dropped in the last ingredient and with a hiss, her violet potion turned a bright shade
of turquoise. A pastel yellow mist was rising from the cauldron, just as it should. She turned the
flame down so the potion could simmer for exactly three minutes. This potion was very precise and
you had to follow the tasks thoroughly and meticulously, otherwise it would ruin the whole thing.
The professor was sweeping through the dungeon, inspecting everyone’s potion. Some students’ potion
was giving off foul odors; other students were in danger of getting burned because of their potion
was making loud cackling noises while emitting sparks over their cauldron. Hermione looked around
and realized no one else had their potion correct. She felt a sense of pride in that fact. Here she
was, a Granger, and never had Hogwarts schooling, yet she was the only one to get the potion
accurate. Professor Snape came to a halt in front of her, scrutinizing her flawless potion.

“Miss Granger,” he picked up the ladle sitting beside the cauldron, and scooped some of the
contents up, then poured it back into the cauldron, testing its density. He gave a small nod, and
then looked at his student. “This potion is perfect…” his voice was soft, with a hint of surprise
and astonishment. Hermione tilted her head up to meet his cold eyes. His lips were curved in
somewhat of a smile, very unlike his usual smirk. “I must say, I’m impressed. Full marks, Miss
Granger. This is a very complex potion. I’ve never seen anyone get it so perfect the first time.
Well done, and keep up the good work. Ten points to Gryffindor.” His voice was still soft in
wonderment, and Hermione couldn’t help but smile warmly at him.

“Thank you, sir. I’ll try,” Hermione voice was barely over a whisper, her eyes meeting his. He
gave another nod, then proceeded to the next table, which was Potter’s.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Snape’s remarks about Granger’s potion didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the class. For the
first time anyone could remember, he actually *gave* points, instead of taking them away, to
Gryffindor house. The Slytherins were dumbfounded, as were the Gryffindors. Harry looked over to
her table. He couldn’t believe it, Snape was nice to a student that wasn’t in his house. Not only
was it was a *Gryffindor*, but it was *Granger*!

“Potter!” Snape’s voice got his attention, breaking him away from his thoughts. He looked down
at his teal-colored potion, with a white mist hovering over the contents. It wasn’t right at all.
“You potion is much too dark, do you know what you did wrong?” His voice was malicious, and his lip
curled into a sneer. It was like night and day compared to the look he gave Granger.

“No, sir,” Harry answered truthfully, trying to keep the contempt out of his voice. It just made
him sneer even more.

“You’re potion skills show their true colors again, Potter. If you intend on passing your
N.E.W.T.S., I would strongly advise you read more carefully and follow the directions.” And with
that , he moved on to the front of the room to address the whole class, “Put a sample of your
potion in a flask with your name for marks. Bring them to my desk.”

Harry just heaved a sigh as he corked his flash and brought it to the front of the room. He
watched as Hermione put her seamless potion among the disastrous ones, and made her way back to her
seat to begin packing up her things, using a Vanishing Spell to empty the contents of her
cauldron.

‘*At least she balanced out the points he had lost at the beginning of class*,’ Harry
thought, slightly peeved at her because of her perfect bloody potion and for impressing his most
hated professor. Adding the way she had no trouble at all in Charms with those two spells, Harry
came up an explanation, ‘*She’s probably just a goddamn know-it-all,*’ Harry mused,
disinterestedly, packing up his own things.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione was eating her lunch, a book propped up against a jug again, this time on dealing with
superior Transfiguration. She had that after History of Magic, which she had right after lunch.
Pausing in her reading to take another spoonful of her vegetable soup, she glanced over the Great
Hall. By the open entrance doors, she saw a group of teenagers laughing and playfully shoving each
other around. She just shook her head at their horseplay, *‘They should be doing something
productive.*’ Hermione thought as she returned to her soup and book.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry and his friends wanted in their seats for the professor to show up. This was the last
class of the day, and they were groaning about the two-foot-long essay McGonagall had assigned them
on human transfigurations. They weren’t even going to be getting into that for a few weeks, but she
wanted her class to “be prepared for such highly difficult transfigurations,” That did make them
feel any better about the complex essay that promised at lease three or four hours of research and
writing. Combine that with the notes they had to research for Charms and Bin’s foot-and-a-half
essay assignment, you could say they already had a pile of homework. Hopefully Sirius won’t have
anything for them, otherwise they could forget about the pick-up game of Quidditch they had planned
after lessons.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione was in the middle of her research for Professor McGonagall’s essay. This *was*
quite difficult, no wonder their professor strongly urged them not to put it off. She looked down
at her notebook that she was writing her note in. She had three whole pages, back and front, so
far, and her hand was beginning to cramp up a bit. Laying her pen down, she stretched her hand out
to relieve the cramp. Sitting back in her chair, she looked around the dusty library. Bookshelves
lined up against the wall then in several rows. There were round tables with wooden chairs in one
area of the library, but all were vacant. A lot of the students were hanging out with their friends
and playing outside. But not her. No she was all alone in the library with no one to keep her
company but Madam Pince, a rather aging vulture looking woman that was extremely sensitive to how
her books were handled, which Hermione couldn’t blame her because she knew just how careless and
sloppy people could be with things, especially with something trivial to them, such as books.

Hermione looked at her watch, dinner already started about fifteen minutes ago. She’d better
hurry if she wanted to get a bite to eat before starting on this essay again. Maybe she could take
a few books back to her room and research there. This library made her feel slightly uncomfortable,
especially with the librarian’s suspicious gaze on her every few seconds. With that, Hermione
gathered her things and a few books, before making her way to Gryffindor Tower to drop her things
off before dinner.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry was walking through the empty corridor. He was on his way to dinner; he had just dropped
off their broomsticks off in their dorm before meeting Ron and Draco for dinner. He heard a sudden
crash. Whipping his head in the direction of the noise, he saw a student on the ground, picking up
the several books they had been carrying in the corridor to his left. The books were scattered
around the person. Harry started towards them to help, but then stopped suddenly when the person
lifted their face to reveal her. It was Hermione. She couldn’t see him; her eyes looking around at
the mess. She dropped one of the books while trying to pick up another. Finally getting frustrated,
she stood and with a wave of her wand, all the books flew neatly in her arms. With that, she
started down the corridor towards him, then stopped.

Harry was eyeing her , waiting for her to say something. She took a few more steps his way until
she was about five feet away from him.

“What? Are you just going to stand there and stare at me all day? I‘m not a caged animal in a
zoo!” Her voice was agitated. She didn’t look to happy. Harry still didn’t say anything, he just
folded his arms across his chest.. She must have gotten fed up with his silence because with a
huff, she walked straight passed him. Harry just stood there, not really knowing what to do. He was
still peeved about Potions, and he wanted to say something about it. He turned around to watch her
disappear through the Portrait Hole. ‘*Should I wait here for her to come back?’* he wondered.
But what could he even say to her? ‘*Hey, that’s my table in Potions, so go near it again and
I’ll hex you into next Tuesday?’* No, that wouldn’t work. Besides, she looked like she could
throw a few hexes herself. He stood there, musing about what to do, when to Portrait Hole opened
again Hermione stepped out.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione couldn’t believe it, He was standing there, waiting for her. ‘*What in the Hell did
he want?*’ “Do you want something, or are you just trying to annoy the Hell out of me?” Hermione
asked, not even trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice.

Finally, after a moment, he seemed to have something to say, “That’s my table in Potions, so you
can just steer clear of it.” His voice was emotionless, and Hermione just rolled her eyes.

“Is that what this is about?” She asked, with a slight scoff, “ Honestly, if it means that much
to your maturity level of a two-year-old, you can have the damn table, alright? Now, if you’ll
excuse me, I have some studying to do after dinner, so I’m not going to waste anymore more of my
time with you.” And with that, she started off down the corridor, leaving a fumed Harry behind.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*Hey- man you talking back to me?*

*Take him out*

*You gotta keep ‘em separated*

*Hey- man you disrespecting me?*

*Take him out*

*You gotta keep ‘em separated*

*Hey they don’t pay no mind*

*If you’re under eighteen you won’t be doing any time*

*Hey come out and play*

*“Come Out And Play (Keep ‘Em Separated)” THE OFFSPRING*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

‘*Maturity level of a two-year-old? She doesn’t know me, and she has no right to start making
cracked assumptions about me either!*’ Harry took off after her. “It has nothing to do with the
damn table! You don’t belong here, so why don’t you just take a hike back home?” She spun around
and glared at him. Harry could tell she was angry, but so was he.

“I don’t belong here? Who are you to say that?” Her voice was loud, and she was making her way
back to him. The girl stopped about six feet in front of him. “What makes me so bad that I can’t be
here just like the rest of you?”

Harry just glared at her. His emerald eyes blazing with annoyance and anger, “You. Are. A.
Granger.” He said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world through gritted teeth. She
looked indifferent.

“Yeah? Well you’re a Potter, but do you think I care? We are feuding about something that
happened ages ago! Newsflash, Potter: I don’t care how much bad blood is between us; I’m not going
home! The sooner you get that though your thick skull, the better. I haven’t done anything to you,
so just leave me alone, and I won’t bother you!” And with one last glare from those dark, chocolate
eyes, she stalked off towards the Great Hall again, leaving a very dumbfounded and angry Harry
Potter.

Harry just stared down the long corridor, feeling utterly wrong-footed. “Wha…?” With a sigh,
Harry made his way to dinner, careful not to look *her* way even once. He was quiet all
through diner, his mind was a bit preoccupied.

“Hey mate, what’s up? You’ve barely touched your food and haven’t said two words.” Ron’s voice
was concerned, and Draco was also looking at his discouraged friend with a worried expression.

Harry just shrugged and muttered, “I’m a little tired after Quidditch and all. I know I should
get started on that essay, but I think I’ll just go to bed,” and without another word he made his
way back to his dormitory. “Granger may have won this battle, but she is sure as Hell gonna lose
the war.” Harry said defiantly to the empty room, lying on his back with his hands behind his head,
looking at the canopy of his four poster bed. “No, this definitely isn’t over…”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Hey, Granger, looks like you made the papers! I never knew the Prophet would sink down this low
to do some article on a piece of worth filth like you!” Someone called out and threw a scroll of
parchment her way.

Hermione gasped as she looked at the headlines: GRANGER HITS HOGWARTS. ‘What in the Hell?’
Hermione glanced around the Great Hall, and it wasn’t hard to guess what they were all discussing.
The Daily Prophet’s headline seemed to catch a few eyes. Hermione looked back down at the paper and
began to read the article:

*They haven’t been in the Wizarding World in ages, and we thought they no longer had any magic
in their bloodline, BUT WE WERE WRONG! Hermione Granger, 17, has taken up post as a student at
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, under the rule of Albus Dumbledore. Never having been
schooled in the Magic World, many wonder if this girl will be up to the complexity of a Hogwarts
Seventh Year student, as many of us are doubtful. We are still trying to discover how she had
learned the beginner points of magic, but haven’t uncovered anything yet. But what we do know is
that her presence at Hogwarts did in fact, raise more than just a few eyebrows. After talking with
several concerned parents, I have found out the majority are against Hermione Granger attending
Hogwarts. Many think of her being nothing short of a nuisance and are concerned about her presence
may distract their children from learning.*

Hermione stopped there. She didn’t want to read anymore, instead she tossed the paper aside
carelessly and began eating her food again. Who cares about the Daily Prophet anyway? She didn’t,
that’s for sure. Let some hideous newspaper reporter make a buck by selling a few articles about
her. The only difference it made was now, the whole Wizarding World knew she was here. ‘*I guess
it almost helps me really,*’ Hermione thought dully, ‘*Now they know Grangers aren’t quitters
and I’m not going to go home, no matter how much I am ridiculed*.’ Hermione heard her name being
called and looked over to the source of the noise.

“So, Granger, what do you think now that you have been made into a,” the boy looked down to
consult the article, before continuing, “ah, yea, ‘*a nuisance’*?” He used his fingers in
quotation mark gestures while saying the clip from the Prophet for dramatic effect. Hermione just
gave them a smirk and replied with a cool, “I don’t think much of that trash anyway, so the junk
they decide to write about isn’t going to affect me, so it’s nothing,” and with that, she made her
way out of the Great Hall, a tight-lipped smile in place.

It was Tuesday, so first she had Double Herbology with the Hufflepuffs. ‘Hopefully, today would
go smoother than yesterday,’ she mused as she made her way outside. *‘I still can’t believe that
Potter kid,’* she continued thinking, giving a slight scoff, *‘Did he honestly think she was
going to leave? Did he really think he was intimidat-’* CRASH! Suddenly, she fell headfirst to
the ground, still slick with last night’s rain. To be exact, she fell straight into a muddy puddle.
Hermione pushed herself to her knees and tried to wipe the mud and water from her face. She could
hear laughter ringing in her ears, and looking around, a few groups were pointing and snickering at
her. Hermione got to her feet slowly.

“Have a nice trip? Sorry about that, you really should’ve seen my leg there. I guess you may
need some glasses, bitch.” The boy’s taunting rang in her ears. Then she realized she had in fact,
been tripped. She looked down at her now muddy and wet robes.

“Immature prat!” She muttered under her breath as she continued to the green houses, pulling her
robes closer to her body and trying to ignore everyone’s teasing and scorns. She looked liked a
mess, but she just kept walking, deciding she would use a few spells to fix her robes and uniform
until lunch, when she could go change. Today wasn’t looking so good either…

00

That’s the next few weeks went. Hermione had gotten upset and very discouraged in the beginning,
but now she expected about everything they could throw at her. She just took it and kept on going.
She studied. She wasn’t here to make friends. No, she was here to further her magical education,
that’s all. And she could do that alone. So ignoring their daily jeers and taunting had become a
regular task for her. No matter what they said, no matter what they did to her, they couldn’t take
away her spirit. No, Hermione would just get right back up and keep going. They couldn’t keep her
down.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*I get knocked down*

*But I get up again*

*You’re never gonna keep me down*

*I get knocked down*

*But I get up again*

*You’re never gonna keep me down*

*“Tub-thumping” CHUMBAWAMBA*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

But there were a few people that weren’t totally against her. A Ravenclaw, Luna Lovegood, was
pleasant with her, though they didn’t talk much. A fellow Gryffindor, Neville Longbottom, wasn’t
cross with her either, he even asked Hermione for some help on homework once. And a Slytherin,
Blaise Zabini had helped her pick up her things when she had “tripped” again, this time in a
corridor. Also, she had a posse of First Years from Flying lessons that didn’t mind her being a
Granger. But the list stopped there. None of them were her friends, but they came about as close as
she was going to get as friends.

There were others that didn’t really do much, which she was grateful. But there were those that
had to make her day a living Hell every time they saw her. The top of this list was Cho Chang, a
popular Seventh Year Ravenclaw Seeker. Hermione couldn’t stand her at all. It was bizarre how fake
she could be. One minute, she was cruel and hateful to people like Hermione, and the next she could
be so flirtatious and nice to others in “her crowd.” It made Hermione nauseous how she threw
herself at guys sometimes. Another was Cho’s best friend, Marietta Edgecombe. They both never
missed an opportunity to humiliate or torment Hermione. Pretty much all the Slytherins hated and
badgered her, most of all being John Avery, the same boy that had called her a Mudblood outside the
Potions classroom.

A Seventh Year Hufflepuff, Ernie Macmillan, who was intelligent but extremely arrogant, always
tried to make Hermione feel inferior to him. He couldn’t beat her marks though, which Hermione
pointed out a few times to make him shut up. She was top of the class, and many hated her for that
as well. There were other Hufflepuffs that didn’t hide the fact they didn’t like her either, such
as Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, and a few others.

The Gryffindors were just as bad as the other houses. Hermione still had her own dorm that still
wasn’t very comfortable. Ginny Weasley told her what an “ugly bushy-haired bookworm” she was, which
happened to be another one of her not-so-flattering names. But Hermione liked to keep to herself so
she wouldn’t have to put up with such insults.

Also, there was Harry Potter. Hermione sighed as she thought about him. He was known as a nice,
funny guy that didn’t insult people or anything unless he was provoked. He was also known for a
temper, and his dueling abilities. Hermione had seen him in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and he
did know what he was doing. A lot of people looked up to him and Hermione couldn’t blame him. Harry
*was* a nice guy…just not to her. He was good at Quidditch and his studies Harry was quite
good-looking, with his midnight messy hair and intense emerald pools. Also, he had a scar, the
shape of a lightening bolt on his forehead. Hermione had no clue what it was from, but it gave him
a slight mysterious look to add to his friendly appearance. He wasn’t very muscular, but had a
decent build. He wasn’t fake and didn’t put people down. And Hermione saw all this. But none of it
was ever directed to her. No, to him, she was a goddamn Granger, a rival. So he wasn’t nice to her,
but he didn’t go out of his way to harass her either. There was a remark here, or a glare there,
but that was about it. Harry and his two best mates, Draco Malfoy and Ronald Weasley, had the
reputation of troublemakers, but they did well in their studies. Well, Harry did anyway, Hermione
didn’t know the others’ work. Harry seemed to grasp things quickly, but he wasn’t as good as
Hermione, no one was.

Hermione pushed all these thoughts out of her mind as she made her way to Flying lessons with
Madam Hooch. Hermione loved this class the most out of all her classes. At first she had felt out
of place because she was among a bunch of eleven year olds, but that was also why she liked it so
much. They were only eleven, and didn’t taunt her or anything about being a Granger. At first, they
made a few cracks about her taking this class because she was seventeen and it was a First Year
class, but all that died down and now she looked forward to this class every Friday, despite her
fear of heights. She never got more than fifteen feet off the ground, but she didn’t really
care.

Even though Hermione wasn’t ridiculed about taking that class by the First Years anymore, that
didn’t stop the older students from bringing it up every now and then.

Still, Hermione just shook her head of these thoughts as she reached the group of First Years.
“Hey, Hermione!” A small girl called out with an energetic wave. Her name was Veronica, but
Hermione liked to call her V.

“Hey V, how was that Potions test? Did those pointers help much?” Hermione asked kindly as she
positioned herself over her broom, still looking at the young Gryffindor.

“Oh yes, thank you so much Hermione! I really think I did well on this one. You are so smart! I
wish I could be like you!” Hermione just laughed and shook her head. V was very dramatic and always
looked as if she had been hit with a permanent Cheering Charm. But nonetheless, she seemed to
worship the ground Hermione walked on, and wasn’t bothered one bit about her being a Granger.

“That’s great, V. I’m sure you did super. How about you, Denny? Do you think you did ok?” She
asked, looking at the boy to her right. He blushed and gave her a smile.

“I think I did better than last time, but not as good as Ronnie over there,” he said, gesturing
to Veronica.

Hermione put her hands on her hips and gave a mock glare. “Dennis Stokes, I don’t care if you
did better than V or not, as long as you’re improving, I’m proud of you. So don’t go comparing your
marks to others, just do better than last time and that’s all you need to worry about!” She then
gave him a warm smile that made him blush even more.

“Yes, Hermione,” He mutter quietly, giving her a shy grin.

“That’s what I thought mister,” Hermione replied.

Madam Hooch’s voice interrupted their conversation, telling them class was about to begin.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry watched from the tree he was sitting under at the First Years’ Flying lesson. Classes were
over for him, and he was just resting under this tree with a pencil and his sketchbook. He watched
as Granger almost fell off her broom, and involuntarily smiled slightly. She had no clue what she
was doing. It was so funny to watch this class because a lot of them weren’t real good fliers,
especially Granger. Madam Hooch was telling her something, but she was shaking her head, looking at
Madam Hooch as if she was mad. Harry watched as the Flying professor kept urging her to do
something, but she would just keep shaking her head. Finally, she seemed to give up and move on to
another student.

Harry looked down at his barely started drawing, and with a sigh, he closed his sketchbook and
tried to find a more comfortable position against the tree, still watching the lesson. *‘Damn,
she’s a terrible flier’*, he mused, never taking his eyes off her. She tried to go a few feet
higher, but then thought better of it, descending back down.

Harry continued to watch the rest of the lesson before going back into the castle to find Ron
and Draco. They were in the Common Room playing a game of chess. Draco was losing miserably, more
than usual anyway. *Everyone* lost miserably to Ron Weasley.

“What’s up, mate?” Harry asked, plopping himself in a plush chair between them, looking over the
board. “Getting your ass kicked by Ron?” Harry questioned cheerfully, looking at his doomed friend.
Draco just gave an unintelligible grunt, his eyes looking over the board, contemplating every
possible move and its possible outcome. Harry caught Ron’s eye and they both just smirked.

“Hey mate, Hogsmeade trip next Saturday. It’s on the bulletin.” Ron said, looking over in
Harry’s direction. Harry just nodded in acknowledgement. Hogsmeade was a small town just beside
Hogwarts. Only the Third Years and above could go. It was an all-wizarding community, the only one
in Britain. Even though they had been there loads of times (on school trips and the trio snuck out
a few times), the village was always fun to go to. There was Zonko’s Joke Shop, the Three
Broomstick and a few other pubs, and all sorts of different shops. It was a nice escape from the
stresses of schoolwork.

Harry watched as Draco’s bishop got brutally tackled by Ron’s knight, and Ron called out a
triumph “Checkmate!”

Draco gave the board a half-hearted shove and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples with
his forefingers.

“So, Hogsmeade trip next weekend. I could definitely go for some butterbeer, it’s been awhile.”
Draco said, sitting back up and looking at his two best mates. The other two agreed. Then, they
decided to get some of their homework done before and got their books from upstairs.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione was excited. They were having a trip to the village next Friday. She had heard about it
from Clarence, and wanted to visit Hogsmeade ever since. September was drawing to a close, but the
sunshine was still out. Right now, Hermione Granger could be found in her dormitory, reading a book
for Ancient Runes. Her room was bright from the sunrays shining through the open windows. She moved
to find a more comfortable position on her bed, before giving a sigh and closing the book. It was a
much too bright and beautiful day to be sitting inside, reading a book. With a small smile, the
girl quickly placed her book on her bedside table and exited through the door.

As she made her way through the bright corridors, Hermione heard a strangled whimper coming from
a corridor just ahead to her right. She quickened her pace and looked down the long hallway. It was
much darker because there weren’t any windows for the sun to shine through. Looking closer, she saw
a group of older students surrounding a few what looked like frightened Second Years. One of the
older students was shoving a younger one, calling them obscene names.

“Hey!” Hermione said angrily, making her presence known. The group of older students whipped
around in her direction. Hermione recognized them as Seventh Year Slytherins. They all smirked.
“Leave them alone!” Hermione was fuming. These Slytherins were twice the Second Years’ size!

“Oh, and what are you gonna do about it, Mudblood Beaver Bitch? Are you gonna go run to a
professor like a little baby?” One of the guys asked, taking a step towards her. It was Avery.

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size? What, you can’t take a challenge so you have to
beat up little kids half your size?” She fired back, taking a step their way.

The little Second Years whimpered again. Avery looked at one of his friends and nodded his head
in the direction of the frightened students, “Get them out of here,” and with that, the little kids
were ushered of out the dark corridor, but not before being threatened if they told anyone, the
Seventh Years would have a nice surprised lined up for them next time they met. The little
twelve-year-olds nodded before running down the corridor. Hermione was about to follow them out of
there, but Avery grabbed her arm and shoved her in the direction of the group of Slytherins.

“Who do you think you are bitch? Do you think you can just butt in other people’s business?
Well, we’re just going to have to show you what happens to nosy little motherfuckers like you!” and
before Hermione could reach for her wand, she found her chest being shoved up against the wall, her
head colliding with the cold stone. Avery yanked her head back by her long hair. Hermione felt his
knee in her back, applying an enormous amount of pressure, cried out in pain. Another yank of her
hair, making her head snap backward. She bit her lip in pain, and tasted blood. She gave a jerk,
trying to free herself, but was thrown to the cold, stone ground. Hermione rolled over, but then
felt someone kick her in the stomach. She gritted her teeth and rolled over again, and tried to
push herself up on her knees, still doubling over in pain. Her head ached and she felt something
warm trickle down from her left temple. Her abdomen was throbbing, and she pulled her arms around
stomach protectively, before being pulled to her feet again. This time they shoved her against
another wall, and a sharp pain seared through the back of her head when it was rammed against the
stone.

“You want to play hero again, bitch?” Hermione felt tears well up in her eyes, but was
determined not to let them see. She slid down the wall, her eyes screwed shut in pain. Another blow
to her stomach, making her yelp. “Stay out of our business, of next time it will be far worse. Tell
anyone about this, and you‘ll wish you were dead,” Avery’s voice was colder than the stone she was
leaning against, and Hermione opened her eyes to meet his. No tears were shining in her eyes, but
she was fighting Hell to keep them at bay. With one last look of disgust, he and his posse left her
alone in the dark and empty corridor. Hermione tried to gain her composure and ignore the soreness
of her stomach while the throbbing on the side of her head seemed to intensify. With a few death
breaths and struggles to stand, Hermione finally made her way to the end of the corridor.

The sun didn’t seem as bright anymore and the warmth was gone. It was deserted, for which she
was thankful. Hermione continued back to Gryffindor Tower. She turned left into a corridor that
wasn’t so deserted. Hermione didn’t meet anyone’s eyes, but she could tell from the sudden
deafening silence that all eyes were on her. She just passed them all, still fighting the urge to
cry, not only from pain now, but also humiliation. They all knew what just happened to her. As she
turned the corner, Hermione heard a murmur of voices behind her, and she caught a few words being
exchanged,

“Who do you think did it?”

“Did you see that cut on her cheek?”

“She had it coming!”

When Hermione finally reached the corridor leading to the portrait of the Fat Lady, Hermione was
relived to find this corridor empty. She was about to say the password to the Fat Lady when it
suddenly opened and three boys stepped out. Hermione felt embarrassment settle in her stomach
again. It was Harry Potter and his two friends Ron and Draco. Hermione met those green eyes that
were now staring at her, surprise now etched in his face. Hermione just ignored the question look
and walked passed them, into the Common Room. She was able to keep the tears from coming so far.
When she got to her room, her face was still dry. Hermione even managed a warm shower to relieve
the pain. But as soon as she stretched out on her bed, the dam broke and she cried herself to
sleep. This wouldn’t stop her though.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*And with a broken wing, she still sings.
She keeps an eye on the sky.
With a broken wing, she carries her dreams.
Man, you ought to see her fly.

With a broken wing, she carries her dreams.
Man, you ought to see her fly. (With a broken wing Oooooh)*

*“A Broken Wing” MARTINA MCBRIDE*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry stood there, dumbfounded. Harry looked at his two friends, who had equal looks on their
faces.

“Did you see her? She looked like she just went thought the windmill!” It was Ron’s voice,
slightly alarmed.

“Yeah” Draco agreed, his voice held a hint of worry.

Harry just stood there, his eyes wide. Who in the Hell could’ve hurt her like that? There was a
deep gash on her cheek, and Harry could tell she was in pain by the way she was walking. It wasn’t
her usual swift stride. No it was more of a painful stagger, as much as she tried to hide it. Her
hair had been messy and some of it matted with blood. Her face had some dirt marks and there had
been a nasty cut on her lip.

“Harry?” Ron’s voiced was concerned, and Harry looked his way. “You alright man?”

Harry tried to clear his throat and gave a hoarse, “Yeah.” Harry could still remember the pain
in her dark eyes. Harry looked back at the Portrait Hole. He was Head Boy, should he report it?
Should he at least help her? Would she tell him who did it? Harry was torn. His friends seemed to
realize his situation.

Draco stepped toward him, “Look mate, she’s a big girl and she take care of herself. If Granger
wants to tell a professor about it, let her, but it’s none of our business.”

“But I’m Head Boy,” Harry muttered, looking away.

“Harry, if she hurts that much she can get something from Madam Pomfrey. And like I said, she
can tell McGonagall if she wants to.”

“But she won’t! She too damn stubborn to go to the Hospital Wing or McGonagall!” Harry protested
feebly, looking from Draco to Ron. They just shrugged.

“That’s her problem. It must not hurt too badly if she refuses to get treatment. It’ll be her
own damn fault for suffering, not yours. Now come on, no use just standing around here like a
couple of idiots.” Ron stated before turning around and walking off. Draco gave Harry a weird look
before following suit.

Harry looked back at the Portrait Hole, then in the direction of his friends. ‘Why do you care
so much, Potter?’ he asked himself. ‘This is Granger, for God’s sake!’ Still, Harry did appreciate
people just going around hazing others who didn’t deserve it. And Harry was pretty sure she didn’t
have this coming. With a last sigh, he started in the direction of his friends, but instead of
going to dinner, he made his way to the lake, trying to forget the look on Hermione’s face when
their eyes met.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*I'm Drunk and I'm feeling down
And I just wanna be alone
I'm pissed 'cuz you came around
Why don't you just go home?
'Cuz you channeled all your pain
And I can't help you fix yourself
You're making me insane*

*“Scars” PAPA ROACH*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

By the next day, most of the school, save the professors, knew Hermione had gotten beat up. She
tried her best to ignore their leering faces and comments like “Finally got what you deserved,” or
“Damn, I just wish I could’ve gotten to you first!” Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that some of
the professor *did* know, but they just weren’t telling. But still, she tried to go on as if
nothing happened. Hermione wasn’t a Healer by any means, and her spell work had been a little
patchy, but the cut wasn’t as noticeable, and she had brewed a headache potion and kept a surplus
of it beside her bed and a small flask in her book bag. Other than that, she was fine. When
Hermione had come face to face with her attackers, she just dismissed their glares and knowing
glances.

Despite the careless attitude she was showing the school, Hermione felt hurt. She didn’t feel
that constant vigorous confidence she had just last week. She felt violated and defenseless. If
they did it once, would they try to break her again?

As the week progressed, Hermione tried to forget about the incident altogether. The Hogsmeade
trip was drawing near and she couldn’t wait. It was Wednesday, and Hermione was looking forward to
the weekend so she wouldn’t have to be around all the other students. She wouldn’t have to watch
her step and try to dodge their outstretched legs. Hermione wouldn’t have to listen to their snide
comments about how she didn’t belong here and didn’t fit it. The week couldn’t go fast enough for
her liking.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*One long walk down*

*Through the hallway now*

*You’re finding out*

*That you don’t fit in this time around*

*One long walk down*

*Through the hallway now*

*You feel left out*

*Left out*

*The one they picked last*

*For the big ball game*

*Beat up after class*

*No doubt*

*Showed up one day*

*You were not the same*

*You won’t be the last one anymore*

*“Underdog” YELLOWCARD*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry re-read his letter before looking over at Ron and Draco. Ron was currently shoving half a
pancake and two pieces of sausage in his mouth while Draco was thumbing through the latest
installment his monthly subscription of *Quidditch Pastime Entertainment,* or better known as
QPE, not even paying attention to breakfast.

“Hey, Ron put the fork down for a sec and Drakes unglue your eyes from the Tornados’ latest loss
and listen up. How do you guys feel about playing this weekend at the Three Broomsticks? Madam
Rosmerta just sent this, apologizing for it being such short notice, but asked if we were
interested in playing at her pubs for a few hours. Her brother or something is coming in, and you
know how they always had that my-pub-is-better-than-yours thing going on, so she wants to draw a
crowd. So, you guys up for it?”

Ron, who was still trying to chew the pancake, nodded his head while Draco was eyeing Ron with a
disgusted look on his face. “Sounds cool. We can play some of our new shit, see what people think
of it,” and after that, Draco returned t his magazine. Harry scribbled a quick note in the
affirmative and sent it off with the tawny owl before digging back into his own breakfast. Now he
was really excited. He loved playing at the Three Broomsticks; they could usually draw a nice sized
crowd there too. They would need to practice tonight and every night for the next few days, but
that was nothing. Harry chewed his food thoughtfully, trying to mentally plan the songs they could
play. It would just be a few hours because Madam Rosmerta knew they would want to visit the village
for a little while at least.

00

Later on that day, while Harry was studying in the library, He saw Granger. She was sitting
among a group of young Gryffindors, helping them out with their homework. Harry thought about that
day passing her by the Portrait Hole. He sighed. She hadn’t said anything to anyone about it, and
she ought to. He watched as she stood up and disappeared in the bookshelves, and before he knew
what he was doing, he was following her. *‘It’s part of my Head Boy duties,’* he told himself.
He had to make sure she was at least alright, anyway.

He stopped as he watched her stretch to the top shelf for a book. With a deep breath, he made
his way over, stopping in front of her. She raised an inquisitive eyebrow, one hand on her hip and
the other at her side, holding the book.

“Did you want something?” she asked slowly, and Harry could hear the impatience in her voice.
She still had a cut on her cheek, thought it wasn’t as noticeable. Also, a slight bruise on her
temple.

“Er…I-I was wanting to make sure you were alright, you know.” he muttered, slightly unsure of
what to say.

She cocked her head back slightly, her face becoming emotionless, “If I was alright?”

“Yeah, you know, after getting…um…you know a few days ago,” Harry was getting uncomfortable.

“No I don’t know, why don’t you tell me,” her voice was cold and she folded her arms across her
chest. She continued to stare at him in the eye.

*‘Tell her? Like she doesn’t know!’* Harry thought irritably. He sighted inwardly, maybe he
should’ve just kept his mouth shut, dammit. “Well, you know, with your injuries and all.”

“Injuries?” Her voice was flat, “Oh, and do you know how I sustained these
‘*injuries’*?”

‘*You got your assed kicked,*’ Harry thought, but something told him that wasn’t the right
thing to say. “Er…you…um got beat up?” He asked wit a shrug. He watched as her eyes hardened and
her knuckles became white because of her increasing grip on the book.

“Got beat up? Tell me, Potter where you there? Do you know exactly what happened?” Her tone
changed and Harry could tell she was about to lose her temper.

“We’ll, not exactly, but-”

“Then don’t worry about it. You weren’t there so it’s none of your business. No reason to
pretend to care now.” She dropped her hands to her hips and fixed him with a glare.

Harry was stunned, he was here to help! But whatever, he gave another sigh, “Look, as Head Boy,
I thought I’d make sure you were alright, I guess that was a mistake. I guess I’ll stop pretending
to care. You’re right, I wasn’t there and it’s none of my business.” Harry through his arms up in
the air, but he didn’t stop there, “Maybe what some people are saying is right, maybe you did
deserve getting your ass kicked, running that mouth of yours!” Harry’s eyes widened, and so did
hers. He didn’t mean to say that, it just slipped. Her nostrils flared. But Harry noticed her eyes
flash with sadness and pain, and he immediately regretted his cold words.

“Look, I didn’t mean-” He started, was cut off.

“No, you look, Potter. It’s none of your business, and it was a mistake for you to come here.
I’ve got things I got to do, so fuck off!” and with that, she shoved passed him and Harry whipped
around in time to watch her make her way over to the group again, give them the book and say
something, before exiting the library in haste.

He hit his head against the bookshelf a few times. ‘Well, that was tactless, Potter.’ He gave
another sigh before making his way back to his table. ‘Oh well, the only reason I asked her was
because of my Head Boy duties, otherwise, I wouldn’t’ve even bother!’ Harry thought as he, too,
stalked out of the library.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*I tried to help you once
Against my own advice
I saw you going down
But you never realized
That you're drowning in the water
So I offered you my hand
Compassion's in my nature
Tonight is our last stand

I tear my heart open, I sew myself shut
And my weakness is that I care too much
And our scars remind us that the past is real
I tear my heart open just to feel*

*I can't help you fix yourself
But at least I can say I tried
I'm sorry but I gotta move on with my own life
I can't help you fix yourself
But at least I can say I tried
I'm sorry but I gotta move on with my own life*

*“Scars” PAPA ROACH*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione couldn’t believe him! Was that suppose to make her feel any better? He practically told
her this was an obligation and he wanted no part in it at all*. ‘He couldn’t have been more
rude!*’ she thought, as she made her way back to her dormitory. She tried to put it behind her,
she had things she need to get done. *‘Don’t get yourself worked up over some insensitive
asshole, Hermione! It’s not worth it.’* He doesn’t know her, and had no business prying into her
personal affairs. Did he want to remind her of how she had gotten the thump on the head and gash on
her cheek? He was probably trying to play a joke her, trying to make her think he cared, but then
scoffing in her face and snickering about her with his friends. He wasn’t very nice, Hermione
decided. She took few deep breaths and calmed herself down before tuning to her trunk.

Hermione took a few things out of her trunk before finding a light blue folder. She opened it
and took out a receipt from on of her parents’ dentist appointments, which had her parents’
signatures on the bottom. Clarence had told her she would need her parents’ signature for a
permission slip to Hogsmeade. Hermione had simply copied a receipt on their copier at home so she
had their signatures. She could write up the form, and then use a charm to copy the names onto the
permission slip, which would be a little tricky, but nothing she couldn’t handle. So she quickly
wrote out a standard permission slip on a piece of notebook paper. Then after failing a few times,
she got the charm right and her parents’ signatures appeared at the bottom of the paper in blue
ink. Hermione smiled and stood up, with a quick wave her wand the items she had taken out of her
trunk were replaced. She folded the paper in half, then in half again, making sure the folds were
neat and the creases tight before setting it on her bedside table and getting into bed. She reached
over and took her headache potion and took a drink of it. Her head still gave a nasty throb every
once in a while over the last few days, but it was getting better. The cut was still there, but the
light makeup Hermione wore and a few Blemishing Spells covered it up for the most part. She glanced
at the note sitting folded neatly beside her clock. Hermione thought about the names at the bottom
of the slip and sighed while setting the potion back on the bedside table.

She missed her parents dearly. She hadn’t heard from them at all. She decided she would write a
letter to them tomorrow and hoped they weren’t too angry with her to reply back. Leaning back and
pulling the cover tight around her body, Hermione rolled to her side and closed her eyes. The pain
in her head ceased to a dull pounding that would soon disappear when the potion took on its full
effects. Thinking along those lines, Hermione drifted off into a restless sleep about her parents
and them not ever talking to her again.

**Alright, now be brutal, what did you guys think? Please review, let me know if you hate it
(or love it!) and we’ll all be happy campers! I’m not completely happy with this chapter, I dunno,
there’s just *something* I want to do to it or change, I haven’t got any idea what it is
though, but I think it might have something to do with Harry, not sure though, BUT anyway, tune in
for the next chapter (which I will post soon!) and REVIEW!**



7. A Surprise In Hogsmeade
--------------------------

**IMPORTANT: THE SONGS USED IN THIS FIC DO NOT BELONG TO ME, BUT SOME OF THEM I SAY HARRY AND
HIS BAND WROTE, BUT OF COURSE, THEY ARE JUST SONGS BY BANDS WE ALL KNOW AND LOVE. I JUST DIDN’T
FEEL LIKE WRITING A LOT OF SONGS (PLUS I SUCK AT IT). BECAUSE THEIR BAND IS JUST STARTING, THEY
ALSO PLAY “MUGGLE SONGS” AS THEY CALL IT. I WILL LET YOU GUYS KNOW THE SINGERS AND ALL OF ALL THE
SONGS PLAYED.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, and if I was JKR, I wouldn’t have EVER come up with HBP and
actually published it! Honestly, it would be so different and all…ok enough HBP bashing, I am still
a bit steamed! I just glanced thru the book the other day, and within 30 seconds, I threw it at the
wall…Hello, my name is Brooke, and I have anger management problems when thinking about HBP…I am
not ashamed…lol**

**Recap!**

*‘This must not be too hard for her,’ Harry mused, as he watched her do the same task over and
over flawlessly.*

*“Guess what you piece of filth, we don’t like Mudbloods or Grangers, so you’re just shit out
of luck.”*

*“You’re sitting at our table,” the redhead beside Harry informed her coolly.*

*‘Hey, that’s my table in Potions, so go near it again and I’ll hex you into next
Tuesday?*

*“It has nothing to do with the damn table! You don’t belong here, so why don’t you just take
a hike back home?”*

*Hermione Granger, 17, has taken up post as a student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and
Wizardry, under the rule of Albus Dumbledore.*

*They were having a trip to the village next Friday*

*How do you guys feel about playing this weekend at the Three Broomsticks?*

*“Who do you think you are bitch? Do you think you can just butt in other people’s business?
Well, we’re just going to have to show you what happens to nosy little motherfuckers like
you!”*

*“Stay out of our business, of next time it will be far worse. Tell anyone about this, and
you‘ll wish you were dead,”*

*“Maybe what some people are saying is right, maybe you did deserve getting your ass kicked,
running that mouth of yours!”*

ONWARD! AND ENJOY, PEOPLE!

**Chapter 7: A Surprise In Hogsmeade**

“Alright guys, I was thinking we could add these songs to our routine, so we’ll have a mix of
old and new. What do you think?” Harry looked at his friends expectantly, they were nodding, and
Ron looked down at the list again.

“That’s cool, we should also play this one, it’s a lot of people’s favs,” He pointed to a song
on the notebook paper that wasn’t highlighted, and tried to act nonchalant, but Harry and Draco
shared a knowing look.

Draco nodded, “Yeah, it’s loads of people’s favs, especially that little Ravenclaw, Mandy
Brocklehurst’s! Let’s see, last time we played that song, she went over the fucking moon about it
and told you how great you handle your bass, and how much she would like to play a few strings on
your *other* guitar!” Harry and Draco started snickering while Ron turned beet red.

“God, get your mind out of the gutter, Malfoy! And don’t even start in about me, if my memory
serves me right, you played a solo for that Lisa Turpin chick. And you got what, a few snogs at the
most?

Harry laughed and added, “Might I just say, you were horrible at it too! I don’t think I’ve ever
heard a worse version of “Screaming Infidelities.” You really should stay away from Dashboard
Confessional songs. Not to mention the fact the song had absolutely nothing to do with the little
argument you two had and you weren’t that cut up about it anyway!”

Draco just shrugged, “Hey guess what, it got me a lot more than just a few snogs, which is more
than you can say, Potter. Not only are you still a virgin, but you never even kissed a chick
before!” He said triumphantly, but Harry wasn’t phased. He didn’t mind when they tried to make fun
of him because of his nonexistent history with the opposite sex.

“Unless,” Ron’s voice was full amusement and he had a glint in his eye, “Unless, you count him
snogging Granger!”

Draco nodded and added, “Oh yeah, must’ve forgotten about your little rendezvous with Granger at
the Ministry!

Harry shot them both a pierced look. They hadn’t spoken of that incident much since it occurred,
and he just tried to forget about it after he found out who she was.

Draco started talking in a higher pitch, recalling what Harry had said about Hermione after the
day in the Ministry, “ *‘Well, she was…sorta cute… she is very pretty…she wasn’t wearing much
makeup, but her face looked beautiful…her beauty was more, I dunno, like it catches you by surprise
and you can’t help but wonder where they make them like that…’* and loads of other things about
her hair and eyes!” Draco finished with a smirk. Harry just blushed and looked away.

This time it was Ron’s voice, “Granger is decent looking, but you made her sound like some super
model or something! Sorry, but I mean, comparing her to eye candy like Mandy, she isn’t even in the
same area code!”

Harry’s head shot up. “Not even in the same area code?” he said incredulously, looking at his
friend like he was mad. “Dude, she may be a Granger and shit, but I think she looks ten times
better than any girl here! All the girls here have to paint their faces on and flaunt themselves
around so shallow guys like you two would take a look! At Least Hermione’s got a brain and some
dignity! And like I said, she isn’t something *you* guys would stop and gawk at, but she’s
someone that *I* do notice. I dunno, it’s just the way she holds herself confidently and-” He
suddenly stopped, realizing who he was talking about. He swallowed hard, and looked away. With a
deep breath he met his friends’ surprised looks and said, gritting his teeth slightly, “Look, she’s
just a lot more than all those other girls, alright? Just…don’t’ worry about it, okay? She isn’t
anyone you guys would want, so just leave her alone and no harm done. Trust me, getting her bad
side isn’t very pretty,” Harry warned, remember the scene in the library.

“And what do you know about getting on her bad side?” Ron asked, accusingly; Draco gave him a
pointed look, wanting to know as well. Harry sighed and told them vaguely what had happened.

“Why in the Hell were you even asking?” Draco looked at Harry as if he was mad, Ron nodding in
agreement.

“I-I dunno why I even bothered alright? I told you guys, it was a Head Boy obligation, nothing
more. And what do I get for my kindness? A nice, bitchy ‘*Mind your own business and fuck off,
Potter.*’” Harry imitated Hermione’s voice, still seething. He still couldn’t believe the way
she had acted. Sure, maybe he should’ve handled that better, but she wasn’t exactly helping him out
any.

Harry noticed the look his two friends shared. “What?” He asked, looking between them.

They just shrugged.

“Nothing.”

“No, you two shared a look!” Harry accused, “Like you guys know something I don’t.” His eyes
narrowed.

“Harry, it’s nothing. Just can’t believe she would act so bitchy to a kind gesture. Maybe she
doesn’t know how to accept kindness, and only knows how to be spiteful and shit,” Draco replied,
with a shrug.

“Well, at least people aren’t lying when they call her “Granger Bitch.” The Keyword bitch,
meaning “spiteful woman” and they say people in Hogwarts judge too quickly,” Ron threw in
off-handedly, shaking his head in mock disappointment.

Harry still gazed between the two off them, not believing a word, but he decided not to push
anything. “Whatever, I‘m gonna go find Jeremy and see if he’s can play this weekend too; we could
use another guitar,” and with that, Harry left the Common Room and tried to find his friend.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione was getting ready for her trip into Hogsmeade, which was right after breakfast. She
decided to dress in Muggle clothes: a simple pair of blue jean capris and a gray and red top. She
quickly pulled her hair back into a ponytail before making her way down to the Great hall.

Hermione smiled as she followed the other students to the village. She was so excited. The sun
was bright and the weather was nice, a perfect day for an outing around Hogsmeade. As she made her
way down the stone path, Hermione tried to fight off the twinge of jealously she felt when seeing
other students laughing and talking carelessly with their best friends. She kept her eyes focused
on the winding path and increased her speed.

Hermione knew everyone thought she was a loser because she didn’t have any friends. But she
didn’t want to become friends with anyone at this school anyway, she told herself. Most people here
were self-centered and cruel. Hermione was better off without them. Even after telling herself this
many times, she still wished for a friend.

She didn’t need to think about that right now though. Hermione was determined to have a great
time, and musing about things that made her feel slightly sick to her stomach wasn’t the way to go
about it. Instead, she mentally went over her homework and listened as the birds chirped in the
background. Hermione could smell the hint of Fall in the air as September was fading into
October.

Hermione was beginning to wonder if they were getting any closer when they rounded the corner of
the stone wall and a wrought iron gate was just ahead of them, with the words HOGSMEADE in
calligraphy. The gate was open in welcome and Hermione could see people walking down the streets
doing their daily shopping and whatnot. Thrill flooded through her as they passed the entrance
gate.

Hermione tried to take in everything at once but soon realized that was impossible. Little shops
lined the main street; other roads branched off into little paths with cottages lining each side.
Hermione smiled involuntarily as her eyes took in the small village. It was obvious there was
something special about this town. Hermione watched a mother of two, who was looking slightly
agitated at her children who were watching as the Hogwarts students began breaking off into groups
as they made their way further into the village.

The mother finally reached her limit as one of her little children tore after a group of Third
Year Ravenclaws and with a wave her of wand, both children were restrained with small leashes
around their wrists and the mother pulled them in the other direction.

Hermione watched them disappear in the crowd before continuing further into Hogsmeade. She
ventured into a few shops. She came upon a shop filled with students, it was called Honeydukes.
Hermione’s eyes widened as she finally was able to push herself into the small store. Shelves lined
the walls full of different sweets. There were barrels and barrels overflowing with treats and
candy. Students were pushing and shoving passed each other and Hermione watched with fascination
was one of the staff members pulled out a lollypop that was red in front of a bunch of Third Years
and then put it in her mouth for a second. Taking it back out, Hermione’s jaw hit the floor when
she saw a hole in the woman’s tongue.

“Acid Pops!” She heard the woman say proudly, and watched as the astonished Third Years grabbing
handfuls of the lollypop. Her eyes wandered over the rest of the shop and her smile slowly slid off
her face when she thought about the expressions on her parents’ faces if they found her at such a
sweet shop. Her parents leaned more towards sugarless candies because of their profession, so
Hermione rarely ate a whole lot of candy. With a small sigh, Hermione replaced the frown with a
small grin and explored the shop before she chose a few sweets from the shelves and barrels and
waited in line to pay for them.

Once she paid for her candy, Hermione made her way outside to the fresh air and started down the
street.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry looked around Zonko’s and watched a group of timid Third Years fall for the same tricks
the owner pulled on all the new students every year. He shifted his bag full of Zonko’s merchandise
in his other hand so he could see his wristwatch. It was twenty after two. They told Madam Rosmerta
they would be at the Three Broomsticks around three; that would give them about three hours to hang
around the village before they had to play.

So far, the trio had spent most of their time at Honeydukes and Zonko’s. They were going to go
get some ice cream and hang out around the Shrieking Shack for a while next. Harry called over to
Ron, who was talking to the store owner about some new product they should come out with, “Hey
mate, we’re going to be by the Shrieking Shack, meet us there when you’re done, okay?” And with
that, Harry and Draco left the joke shop.

They made their way to an ice cream stand, discussing their upcoming gig. It had been awhile
since they played at the Three Broomsticks, so they were both pretty excited about it. They decided
to use a mixture of Muggle songs and some of their own.

Once they reached the Shrieking Shake, Harry and Draco settled themselves on a large boulder
near the barb-wire fence that kept obnoxious teenagers from going into the shack and vandalizing
the inside. Harry’s eyes wondered over it’s features, taking in the familiar aspects of the old
mysterious cottage. He and his friends knew of it’s truth. Harry gave a wiry grin as he thought
about how the Shrieking Shack had gotten it’s haunted reputation.

Harry’s father, James Potter, along with three of his other friends had been quite the
troublemakers in their days at Hogwarts. Remus Lupin, a close friend of his father’s, had been
bitten by a werewolf in his youth, and when there was a full moon, the nurse would use a secret
passage under the Whomping Willow which led to an underground tunnel to the Shrieking Shack. Once
he was alone inside, he would transform. This precaution was to ensure the students’ safety because
having humans around a werewolf was very dangerous. The screams and shrieks heard by the villagers
were Remus while he was in his were wolf state while inside the shack.

Once James, Sirius, and Peter had found out about their friend’s transformation, they had become
unregistered Anamagi. James could transform at will in a stag, Sirius into a large, black dog, and
Peter into a small, rat. If in their animal form, a werewolf was no danger at all. And so, in the
nights of a full moon, four friends would roam Hogwarts and Hogsmeade in their animal appearances.
They had discovered so many secrets and hidden passage ways, the four friends had written an
ingenious map, which they liked to call the Marauder’s Map. It would tell where anyone on Hogwarts
grounds were at any given moment and how to reveal secret passages. Being one of the Marauder’s
son, Harry had been given this spectacular map by his father in his Third Year as a birthday
present. Harry also had his father’s old invisibility cloak, which came in handy which sneaking
around the castle at night, which was a habit for him, Ron, and Draco.

Harry’s eyes roamed over the broken-down wooden fence that went around the small perimeter of
the yard and then the earthy walk-way that led up to the cracked, stone steps. There were holes in
the floor of the porch, with the broken, splintered wood sticking up in odd angles. From afar the
windows just look black and grimy, but once you were up close, which Harry had been a few times,
you could see the years of dirt caked dry onto the glass, and it was futile to try and take a peek
inside, unless you looked through one of the many broken windows. Paint chipped off the wooden
planks that made up the walls. The rain had slightly warped the unprotected wood, giving the shack
an unnatural shape. What was once a deep, rich brown had now been chipped into a dull, faded gray.
The door hung on unstable hinges and was slanted off to the left slightly. To enter the house, one
would have a time jerking the door open because of the vines that had attacked the house and
blocked the entry way. Forgotten shingles lay scatter through the unkempt, parched grass. What was
once a brick chimney lay leaning to the right with many bricks missing because of the
disintegrating mortar.

Harry was broken from his musings by his best friend’s suddenly standing up as someone
approached the two boys. A Ravenclaw Sixth Year waved to them and gave Draco a friendly hug.
“Draco! It’s so good to see you! How was your summer? Good I hope,” she said, twirling a strand of
her dishwater blonde hair around one of her fingers, smiling flirtatiously. Harry glanced up at his
friend, who had a smirk on his face.

“Hey Tina, my summer wasn’t too bad, yours?” Draco replied smoothly, tossing the rest of his ice
cream cone in the nearest rubbish bin.

“Mine was super! We went to Paris, and I modeled for a portrait! It was so amazing!” Her voice
was perky and Harry found it very annoying when she kept fluttering her eyelashes. “Remember that
night in the Astronomy Tower last year?” She asked, eyeing him coyly.

Draco just grinned and said smoothly, “Of course I do, who could forget such a night of infinite
pleasures?” Then he reached out and ran the back of his hand down the side of Tina’s smooth
cheek.

The Ravenclaw retuned his large grin and tried to say off-handedly, “Yeah, it was a really great
night, we should do it again sometime. But you promised me you would owl me a few times during the
summer…” She pouted prettily, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Draco raised and eyebrow and tried to put on a sorrowful expression, “I did say that, didn’t I.
Well, I meant to, seriously Tina, I did, but we were just so busy. You can ask Harry here, me, him,
and Ron all got a job at a Muggle pizzeria in Harry’s town for most of the summer. And then once we
had to quit, you know how hectic the end of the summer holidays are, with getting our school things
and all. We were pretty busy, but believe me baby, I really wanted to owl you.” It was his turn to
pout while running his finger down the side of her cheek, and he could tell Tina was fighting a
grin. “And besides, I’m almost glad we didn’t talk during the summer, because it makes seeing you
*now* just that much sweeter…”

He finished, a sincere smile gracing his lips. The girl was putty in his hands.

Harry just rolled his eyes and tried not to laugh*. ‘Too busy my ass!*’ he thought and
turned around so Tina wouldn’t see the small smirk his was sporting. They had worked at Joe’s
Pizzeria over the summer, like they did the summer before last, but Draco still had plenty of time
to owl her. Draco always had about three or four girls stinging along after him. Harry heard the
Ravenclaw giggle.

“We’re playing at the Three Broomsticks tonight, you fancying watching us?” Draco asked,
wrapping his arm around her.

“That sounds great! But…what do you say we take a little walk and relive some of those “infinite
pleasures” you were talking about before you guys have to play?” Once again, that coy expression
followed by a lot of giggling. Harry looked up in time to see his best friend smirk.

“I can’t think of a better way to get me ready for the show.” and after a quick goodbye to
Harry, Draco started off down the hill leading towards the road with Tina, leaving a snickering
Harry behind.

When Harry could finally contain his laughter, he finished up the last bit of his ice cream
before standing up and finding a tree to sit under while waiting for his other best friend. He took
to watching everyone on the busy street at the bottom of the hill.

While gazing down at the crowded street, he saw someone that looked vaguely familiar. It was an
older woman making her way through the throng of students, obviously looking for someone. He tried
to place where he had seen her, but came up blank. With a shrug, he just found a more comfortable
position and closed his eyes, enjoying the shade the large oak tree was providing.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione continued her wandering through the village with a sense of awe. She had never been to
a Wizarding community or anything of the such, so she was amazed by the magic. Everything was so
new to her and her curious mind was in overdrive trying to take it all in. After the mess at
school, it felt so relaxing to be outside with the warm sunlight shining down on you, relieving all
the stress and filling you in a carefree mood. Everyone was so busy with their own enjoyment, they
didn’t even seem to notice her, which was a great relief.

Hermione found herself in front of a building. With closer inspection and realizing what it was,
Hermione felt a little giddy as she rushed into the bookstore. Inside, it looked much like a
library, minus all the dust and not nearly as many books. Hermione skimmed the shelves, taking out
random books and leafing through them.

Hermione was reading a rather long passage in a book about early Astronomy records and such,
when she heard a familiar amused voice behind her, “Astronomy, huh? I myself fancied reading more
along the lines of Transfiguration.”

Hermione jumped from shock and quickly spun around to see the person who had disturbed her
reading. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped. Standing before Hermione was her mentor, Clarence.
Hermione completely forgot about the large leather-bound book in her hands and let it slip from her
limb fingers, before engulfing Clarence in a tight hug, which Clarence returned just as
eagerly.

“Oh my God! What are you doing here. Clarence? Oh my God! What….?” Hermione finally let go and
took a deep breath, trying to regain the composure she had lost. She had one of the largest and
most genuine smiles she had for a while stretched across her face.

Clarence nodded in understanding of Hermione shock, and had a rather large grin of her own, “Hey
stranger, fancy meeting you here!”

“What are you doing here?” Hermione asked again, excitement evident in her voice.

Clarence just smiled warmly, “Well, I owled Albus, asking when the next Hogsmeade trip was, and
I thought I’d surprise you!” then with a small smirk, she continued, “So, how about me giving you a
tour of Hogsmeade.?” and she held out an outstretched arm.

Hermione just smiled back, linked arms with the older woman, and replied, “I would love to.”
With that, the two made their way out of the book shop.

Clarence really did know the village well; she proved to be a fantastic guide. Hermione was
amazed at some of the things she had overlooked. Clarence also provided some means of history for
each shop they went to. Hermione had a blast listening to stories of Clarence’s days at
Hogwarts.

After exploring the village, the duo decided to go to the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer,
which was something Hermione was eager to try.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry looked around at his “band.” They were about to walk onto the small stage Madam Rosmerta
had in her pub. He mentally went over the songs they were about to play.

“You guys ready?” Harry asked his friends, while picking up his guitar and pulling the strap
over his head so it rested on his shoulder.

“Let’s play!” Ron said, mimicking Harry’s actions by picking up his bass. Draco slipped two
drumsticks in his back pocket and Jeremy grabbed his own guitar. Then, the foursome made their way
to the stage. Since they couldn’t use electric in the magical atmosphere for speakers and mics,
they charmed their instruments and voices to sound louder than usual, but not blaring so everyone
would be uncomfortable with the loud noise. After all, this was still just a pub that people went
to so they could hang out.

There was a nice sized crowd surrounding the stage, all either sitting at tables or leaning
against the walls. Harry picked out Madam Rosmerta and gave her a smile. They all got into their
places and looked out at the audience. Harry felt a rush looking at the many faces that had all
their attention on them. Usually, Harry hated any attention given to him, like when a teacher made
a big deal about Harry knowing an answer that no one else knew, but right here, Harry couldn’t help
but just grin. The only other time he felt like this was on the Quidditch Pitch. “Hey everybody,
for those of you that know us, we’re Flipside. And for those of you that don’t…well, we’re still
Flipside.” There were a few laughs. Harry just nodded and then continued, “So, everyone doing
alright? Enjoying our time away from school?” There was a loud murmur of “yeahs” and a few people
hooted. “Good then,” Harry said, grinning, “I say let’s just start the music and jam!” There was
loud hoots again, followed by applause.

“Ok, this one is own of our own. It’s called Hero.” Harry glanced back at his band to ensure
that everyone was ready, then gave a nod. Draco started on the drums, making a fast beat before
everyone else joined in all at once. Harry started singing in a soft, slow voice, “*I am so
high…I can hear heaven….. I am so high… I can hear heaven. Oh but heaven, no heaven don’t hear
me.”* Harry’s singing grew louder, as did their playing. “*And they say that a hero can save
us. I’m not gonna stand here and wait. I'll hold onto the wings of the eagles. Watch as we all
fly away.”*

Their playing softened again, as they started the verse. “*Someone told me love will ALL save
us… But how can that be, look what love gave us. A world full of killing, and blood-spilling. That
world never came.”* They increased the volume and their energy for the chorus again**.**
*“And they say that a hero can save us. I’m not gonna stand here and wait. I'll hold onto the
wings of the eagles. Watch as we all fly away.”* Then they increased their volume even more for
a short instrumental, with Draco hitting the drums every few seconds, and the guitarists stomping
one of their feet with the rhythm as they grew louder.

All the band members suddenly stopped except Harry, as he softly strummed his guitar and sang
slowly and quietly, *“Now that the world isn’t ending, its love that I’m sending to you. It isn’t
the love of a hero, and that’s why I fear it wont do*.” They rest of the band suddenly picked up
again and the chorus came next, “*And they say that a hero can save us. I’m not gonna stand here
and wait. I'll hold onto the wings of the eagles. Watch as we all fly away.”*

Harry sang, “*And they're watching us*”

And Ron repeated after him, “*Watching Us*”

Again, Harry said, “*And they're watching us*”

With Ron once again repeating, “*Watching Us*”

Harry then continued, “*As we all fly away…yeahaahh...ooouuhh*”

They repeated the ending twice more, before slowly fading out. The crowd broke out in applause
at their finish, and the band members all flashed grins to the crowd. They were just warming
up.

“Alright, thank you guys. How about another one?” The crowd roared with approval. “Looks like we
have no choice!“ Harry’s voice brought silence to the crowd; everyone was ready for another song.
“Well, unfortunately, we cannot take credit for the next one. It’s a Muggle song, some of you may
know, some of you won’t, but it’s really good. I’m sure everyone here can relate to this at some
point in their life. Just a little teen angst,” Harry said with a slight chuckle. “It’s by Simple
Plan, and the song is, I’m Just A Kid.”

Harry started playing his guitar, while the rest of the band members waited for their cue. Harry
sang along with the guitar part, “*I woke up it was seven… I waited ‘til eleven, just to figure
out that no one would call…I think I've got a lot of friends, but I don't hear from
them…What's another night all alone…When you're spending every day on your own…And here it
goes!”*

Suddenly, the solo was broken when the rest of the band kicked in, loud and hard as they all
started singing the chorus. “*I'm just a kid, and life is a nightmare! I'm just a kid…I
know that it's not fair Nobody cares, cause I'm alone and the world is having more fun than
me!”* They slowed down again, playing softly as Harry sang the next verse.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione and Clarence walked into the Three Broomsticks, and the first thing Hermione noticed
was the music. It wasn’t too loud, but was definitely noticeable. Hermione searched the pub for the
reason for this sound, and her eyes landed on him. Potter and a few of his friends were on a small
stage, playing on Muggle instruments. Hermione raised her eyebrows slightly. She knew Harry played
the guitar, she had seen him playing it in the Common Room or outside under a tree. She had never
really heard him because he never played loud enough for everyone to hear him. But now he and his
friends were playing loud and all the attention in the pub was focused on them.

Hermione recognized the song from a Muggle punk band. Hermione felt someone nudge her from
behind and then remember Clarence was just behind her and she was blocking her way. She mumbled a
quick apology and made her way into the inn.

The two of them found a small table to the left of the stage. Clarence went up to the counter to
get them both drinks, leaving Hermione alone at the table. She looked around the pub, taking
everything in. There were several tables and booths placed throughout the place. There was a long
bar where people could order their drinks. Hermione once again looked at the stage where her fellow
classmates where playing. She listened to the words of the song they were singing and couldn’t help
but let out a sigh at their truth.

“and here it goes!” Harry, Ron, and Jeremy all jumped at the same time with the rhythm, and the
music grew louder for the chorus, “*I’m just a kid, and life is a nightmare! I'm just a kid…I
know that it's not fair Nobody cares, cause I'm alone and the world is having more fun than
me!”* Hermione could see Clarence making her way back to them as the band sang on, *“What the
fuck is wrong with me? Don't fit in with anybody…How did this happen to me?…Wide awake I'm
bored & I can't fall asleep…”*Their voices softened again, *“And every night is the
worst night ever…”*

“Here you go, hun. Try this, and you will love it!” Clarence’s voice broke into Hermione
concentration on the band, making her look up at the older woman. She just sat down two mugs, full
to the rim of butterbeer. Hermione gave her a smile before taking the on she was offered. She took
a small sip of the warm liquid and closed her eyes to the heavenly taste. It was sweet and had a
cider taste to it. She took a second larger sip before setting the steaming mug back down.

“You’re right! It is delicious!” she said eagerly over the music. Clarence nodded her head in
acknowledgement and took a mouthful herself.

“I ordered us a sandwich and some chips as well. I hope you’re hungry.” Clarence’s voice was
cheery and careless, which was something Hermione needed right now. The two of them had danced
around the subject about how Hermione was doing. Hermione didn’t want to bring it up because of the
humiliation, and Clarence didn’t want to think about what she had gone through. So they waited in
an awkward silence for their food, which was brought out only minutes later.

“So…how have you been?” Clarence’s voice was even, and she glanced over at Hermione, who kept
her eyes on her plate to avoid eye contact.

Hermione tried to disguise the pain in her voice, “Me? Oh, I’ve been fine. This is all really
great! The student and teachers are nice, and all the learning is fun…I’m really glad I’m here…”
she finished with fake cheerfulness. She didn’t want Clarence’s pity. Today was suppose to be
fun.

Clarence gave a sigh then asked more urgently, “Hermione, how are you really? I know this is
hard on you. And I know how hard it is for you to tell me because of the proud and determined
person you are. But I am here to help you through this, Hermione. And I can’t help you unless you
tell me what you’re feeling, honey,” her voice was reassuring and caring.

Hermione bit her lip and felt slightly nervous. She hadn’t voiced out loud to someone just how
much she was getting hurt in this school. She hadn’t told anyone about how she cried herself to
sleep almost every night. But now she had someone she trusted and could spill her soul to right
here in front of her.

It was Hermione’s turn to sigh. “Things have been…difficult, Clarence. No you seems to like me
very well, which isn’t really a shock. I mean, I knew what I was getting into. And everyone seems
to come up with something new to use against me all the time, whether it be my hair, my reading
habits, me being a Granger…it hasn’t been easy. Not that long ago, some Slytherins roughed me up
because I stopped them from hazing a couple Second Years.” Hermione felt tears start for form at
the corner of her eyes as she relived the school year so far.

Clarence nodded in understanding, then glanced up towards the stage, where Potter was, singing
with his band mates. Timidly, she asked the question that had been plaguing her for some time now,
“And, how are things with…him?” she asked, looking towards the stage once more. Hermione didn’t
have to follow her gaze to know who she was talking about.

Hermione gave another sigh and closed her eyes, as if it might make this nightmare just
disappear. When she opened her eyes, everything was still there. The band was still playing loud
music and Clarence was looking at her expectantly. Hermione didn’t even know where to begin. She
decided to take it from the top, “Well, after I had been sorted, he was throwing me all these
glares all through dinner. I didn’t understand until they acknowledged him as Head Boy. We kinda
had a stare off right there in the Great Hall. Then, the next day, I guess I sat at His Table in
Potions, so he told me to move. Of course, I wasn’t going to budge. Well, finally, the Potions
Master told him to find a seat and took away house points. Then, later on that day, he came up to
me to say that was his table, and I better clear off; he even told me to go home! After I had
gotten physically hazed by those Slytherins, he came up to me in the Library, and said it was a
Head Boy obligation to see if I was alright. I told him to quit the act and just leave me alone. I
didn’t need his mocking. Then he had the nerve to tell me that I probably deserved to *get my ass
kicked, running this mouth* *of mine*!”

Hermione felt the tears start to form again, but she tried to hide it. Looking back up at the
stage, Hermione felt a renewed loathing for her enemy.

Clarence looked disappointed to say the least. Closing her eyes, she shook her head softly
before following Hermione’s gaze to him. She felt such pity for the poor girl. But she knew that
wasn’t what Hermione needed nor wanted right now. She needed a friend, and that’s what Clarence
would be.

After a few minutes of silence while they munched away on their food, neither feeling as hungry
as before, Clarence asked whether she had heard from her parents or not.

Hermione’s eyes glazed over once more before she cleared her throat, “I wrote them on the train,
explaining where I was going and why, and I didn’t get a response. So earlier this week, I sent
them another letter, asking them not to be angry with me and such. Telling them this is something I
need to do…”

Hermione’s voice was soft and her expression was faraway, as if it was all surreal to her. “They
wrote back, telling me how disappointed they were and about how much trouble I will be in. They
want me to come back home. They said that if I come back home now, then we will all just forget
about this…” her expression suddenly turned urgent, and she looked at Clarence with big, brown
teary eyes. They almost had a possess look to them. Clarence shifted slightly under their powerful
intensity. “But I can’t, Clarence. I’m too far into the game, if I turn back now, I’ll be a coward.
Then *they* will win! I can’t let that happen! I can’t!” Her voice was cracking, and Clarence
saw something she never thought she would see: a broken Hermione Granger. Hermione was such a
strong person, it tore at Clarence’s heart to see her in such a state. But she also knew Hermione
wasn’t going to give up.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*At times life is wicked*

*And I just can’t see the light*

*A silver lining sometimes isn’t enough*

*To make some wrongs seem right*

*Whatever life brings*

*I’ve been through everything*

*And now I’m on my knees again*

*But I know I must go on*

*Although I hurt I must be strong*

*Because inside I know*

*That many feel this way*

*Children don’t stop dancing*

*Believe you can fly*

*Away…away*

*“Don’t Stop Dancing” CREED*

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry was doing a jig on the stage with Ron during the ending of the song they were playing.
They were met with a thunderous applause from their audience. Harry grinned and he and Ron gave an
extravagant bow.

“Right, so what’s up guys? Everyone here been having some fun?!?!” Harry’s voice rung out to the
crowd, which just praised them even farther. “Alright, unfortunately, our time here is coming to a
close.” There was a sound of disapproval from the crowd, it was evident they didn’t want to see the
band leave. Harry gave a huge, fake sigh and said, “Yes, I know, it’s tragic. BUT you all know Ron
can’t go too long without shoveling some sort of food substance in his face before he starts going
through withdrawals, and we don’t want anything rash to happen, now do we?” his words were met with
roars of laughter from the crowd and a scowl from Ron. Harry snickered and looked around at the
crowd. His chortles were cut short when his eyes saw her. He had seen her in here earlier, but not
how she was now.

Granger was talking to that older woman he had saw earlier that day, which he recognized as the
woman Granger had been with at the Ministry, in a very urgent manner. She had tears in her eyes,
and even though Harry couldn’t hear her pain-filled words, he knew how hurt she must have felt.
Harry felt a pang in his heart while watching her. She looked so tired and worn. Harry gazed her
way for a moment. Then, as if she had felt his eyes on her, she looked his way and met his
sorrowful emerald orbs with her broken brown ones. He couldn’t place the feeling that was inside
him right now, but he felt such regret for all his cold words he had said to her. Swallowing hard,
he tried to concentrate back on the show, but he couldn’t forget the look on Hermione’s face when
she met his gaze.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*Me…I’m rusted and weathered*

*Barely holding together*

*I’m covered with skin that peels*

*And it just won’t heal*

*“Weathered” CREED*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry cleared his throat once more, “So, this is our last song,” his voice was a little hoarse,
and it wasn’t only caused by the singing, “I am proudly able to say this is one of our own, and
it’s called “Silhouettes,” and we hope you all enjoy it!” Swallowing once more, he searched her out
in the crowd. She was looking his way, and he met her gaze, silently dedicating this song to
her.

Harry started playing a slow rhythm solo to the silent crowd. This was a rather personal song to
him. He had been torn between what his parents wanted of him, and what he wanted himself, so he sat
down one day and wrote this song.

He had stayed up until three in the morning.

“*Silhouettes above the cradle…hold me down…They won't let me go the wrong way…My mother
taught me all the fables…told me how…In the end all the sinners have to pay But…”* Jeremy’s
guitar joined in on Harry’s solo, increasing the volume of the music.

*“I don't wanna live like my mother…I don't wanna, let fear rule my life…And I
don't wanna live like my father…I don't wanna, give up before I die,”* Harry closed his
eyes for a few seconds, playing a tiny instrumental before hearing Ron and Draco join in with a
slow rhythm, which was his cue for the next verse.

“*He worked so hard his bones are breaking…He wore them down, but long ago he lost the
feeling…His good intentions leave me shaking, show me how I don't ever want to end up like he
did… And I don't wanna live like my mother…I don't wanna, let fear rule my life…And I
don't wanna live like my father…I don't wanna, give up before I die,*” Harry’s voice
grew louder with they playing, his eyes fluttering shut once more before they softened once
more.

“*When I have kids…I won't put any chains on their wrists, I won't…..I'll tell
them this…There's nothing in this world that you can't be if you want it enough…”* Once
again, they sound increased and Draco accentuated the drums for a second.

“*I don't wanna live like my mother…I don't wanna, let fear rule my life…And I
don't wanna live like my father…”* Draco hit the drums particularly loud before a silence
few for the shortest of seconds. Then they started playing again, *“I don't wanna, give up
before I die…”* Harry’s voice grew louder, so he was almost screaming, *“I don't wanna
live like my mother…I don't wanna, let fear rule my life…And I don't wanna live like my
father…I don't wanna, give up before I die.”* They continued playing, each of the band
members fading out until it was just Harry playing a similar solo to the beginning for a few
seconds before coming to a stop as well.

They were met with a standing ovation, people cheering and hooting. Harry grinned at the crowd
and lifted the strap of his guitar off his shoulder. He raised one fist in the air towards the
crowd, and just before he cleared off the stage, he caught her looking his way, standing and
applauding with the rest of the crowd, an unreadable expression on her face.

**Alrightly then. So, what do you guys think? PLEASE review!!!**

**Musie Credits:**

**First Song Harry Played- song: Hero; Artist- Chad Kroger from Nickleback featuring Josey
Scott from Saliva**

**Second Song Harry Played- song: I’m Just A Kid; Artist- Simple Plan**

**Thrid Song Harry Played- song: Silhouettes; Artist: Smile Empty Soul (I saw them at X-FEST 2
years ago! They rocked!)**



8. Do You Dare Disturb The Universe?
------------------------------------

**Hey, this is the next chapter of course. I hope you like it! I just spent forever editing it,
so hopefully there won’t be too many mistakes! If there are, I am sorry. Read and REVIEW!**

**Also, I must apologize for the lame jokes told in this chapter, I needed something to lighten
the mood! Sorry if they suck!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. There are two lines in here that aren’t mine of course. I got to
give credit where credit is due.**

“Be absolutely clear about who you are and what you stand for. Refuse to compromise.” **Brian
Tracy**

“"/quotation/thou_call-st_me_dog_before_thou_hadst_a_cause-but/165994.html""
**Shakespeare**

Also, the line, Do you dare disturb the universe, is from a book, **The Chocolate War**, by
**Robert Comier**. Good book, I recommend it to everyone. If you like stories where someone
stands up against the crowd, you’ll like that one.

**Right, moving on.**

**Recap!**

*‘And like I said, she isn’t something* you *guys would stop and gawk at, but she’s
someone that I do notice. I dunno, it’s just the way she holds herself confidently and-”*

*He tried to place where he had seen her, but came up blank.*

*“Oh my God! What are you doing here. Clarence? Oh my God! What….?”*

*“Hey everybody, for those of you that know us, we’re Flipside. And for those of you that
don’t…well, we’re still Flipside.”*

*“Things have been…difficult, Clarence. No you seems to like me very well, which isn’t really
a shock. I mean, I knew what I was getting into…”*

*“And, how are things with…him?”*

*Hermione gave another sigh and closed her eyes, as if it might make this nightmare just
disappear.*

*“But I can’t, Clarence. I’m too far into the game, if I turn back now, I’ll be a coward. Then
they will win! I can’t let that happen! I can’t!”*

*He couldn’t place the feeling that was inside him right now, but he felt such regret for all
his cold words he had said to her. Swallowing hard, he tried to concentrate back on the show, but
he couldn’t forget the look on Hermione’s face when she met his gaze.*

*He raised one fist in the air towards the crowd, and just before he cleared off the stage, he
caught her looking his way, standing and applauding with the rest of the crowd, an unreadable
expression on her face.*

**Chapter 8: Do You Dare Disturb The Universe?**

Harry has felt many things before, but nothing like this. He wasn’t too familiar with confusion;
he didn’t like to be in the dark when it concerned what was going on around him. But this was more
than that. Not only was he extremely confused, but he was also guilty. Better yet, he felt even
more confused on how he could feel guilt for two complete opposite reasons. First off, he felt as
if he was at fault for going against everything he had been taught by having some sort of
attachment to his sworn enemy. All his life, his parents had taught him to not trust or associate
with a Granger. They were Potter rivals and not to me messed with. But, at the same time, Harry
felt ashamed of his actions towards this “enemy.” He had belittled her, and had been nothing but
scornful towards Granger. But that’s how he was suppose to be, right? He wasn’t suppose to be
friendly and welcoming. But why did he feel so rotten now? Why did he have this sudden change of
heart?

*‘You haven’t had a change of heart,’* the voice inside of his head told him, ‘*You know
you never liked putting people down, and you hated this ever since the beginning. You just did it
because it was expected of you…’* And if he was honest with himself, he knew that little voice
was right, Harry hated bullying and anything of the sort. When he was in Primary School, he wasn’t
one of the big kids, and he had been picked on almost daily. Maybe that’s why he felt so disgusted
with himself now. He knew what it was like to be the object of everyone’s teasing, whether it be
about your constant messy hair, or some funny shaped mark on your forehead. Yes, Harry knew how
cruel peers could be.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*Can you feel it crush you does it seem to bring the worst in you out
There's no running away from these things that hold you down
Do they complicate you because they make you feel like this
Of all the colors that you've shine this is surely not your best
But you should know these colors that you're shining are*

*“Colors” CROSSFADE*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry had been taunted by young children, which was bad, but it could’ve been worse. As they get
older, the snide remarks get more vicious and cruel. People observe what hits home the most and
they thrive off that. So his days in school may have been bad, but he knew Granger was facing
things so much worse.

At least Harry had Ron when he was younger. The Potter family and Weasley clan had been old
friends, so naturally their children had grown up together. Harry had been best friends with Ron
ever since they were in diapers, he supposed. Mrs. Weasley didn’t make Ron or any of his brothers
and sisters go to a Muggle school; she preferred to teach them herself. Harry’s mother wasn’t quite
on the same wavelength though. Being a Muggle-born witch herself, she insisted Harry go to school.
It was times like when he was getting bullied that Harry wished Ron had been at school with him,
but he had to make due without him.

Which only leaves Draco. Draco was from a pureblood family that wasn’t very social to others
they thought were “inferior” to their rich life. The Weasleys were purebloods as well, less
fortunate but they were kind and generous to everyone. The Malfoys were the complete opposite. When
Draco got on the train the first of September for their First Year, he had been a spoiled,
obnoxious brat. Despite being an intolerable little punk, he had never known real friends, and when
Harry and Ron offered him friendship, he jumped at the chance, against his father’s will. After
that faithful day, the three had been inseparable during school and summer. Draco’s father
disapproved of his friendship with such “weaklings,” but once Draco got the taste of true friends,
he didn’t look back on the fake and power-hungry life he was taught to lead.

At least he was blessed with friends. Granger didn’t have that fortune, and Harry almost felt
sorry for her. But he wasn’t suppose to! Harry leaned his back against the cool linoleum of the
shower wall, with one hand at his temple, and the other on his slick hip. *‘This is so
confusing!*’ he thought with an agitated sigh. Why should he feel bad for her when it was more
or less forbidden to even be friends with her. But you could feel sorry for someone that wasn’t a
friend right? Without feeling any guilt for betraying his family, because really, he wasn’t. It’s
not like they were best buds or anything. The warm water rained down on Harry from the shower head,
but it did nothing to ease his stress. This was suppose to be a carefree year, but it was quickly
turning into something much of the opposite.

He just needed to sort all this out, but the problem was, he wasn’t sure what he was feeling in
the first place. It was hard to explain how he felt towards her. It’s like whenever she was around
or talking in class, she had his attention, but he didn’t know why he was so captivated with
dammit. And it wasn’t in a good way either. It was in a
*this-is-so-annoying-that-I-can’t-stop-staring-at-you* way. And they knew. Ron and Draco had
caught him looking her direction on more than one occasion.

Harry stepped out of the shower and wrapped the fluffy maroon colored towel around his waist
while shaking his wet shaggy head, causing water droplets to fly in every direction. Rubbing a
clean spot from the steam-covered mirror, he set to brushing his teeth. Once he was done, he
slipped in his black and blue boxers and stepped back into his dormitory, where he found Ron
sitting in his bright orange boxers with Harry’s guitar singing a mournful Muggle commercial he had
learned over the summer. “…and even though his hamster died, he finds comfortness I swear….cause
you can’t over love you’re underwear…” Harry rolled his eyes and threw a pillow from Jeremy’s bed
at him.

Ron quickly scrambled up and chucked the pillow back at his mate and yelling, “Oy! What’d you do
that for?!?!”

Harry raised an eyebrow then said, “Mate, what do expect? I come out of the shower to find you
playing *my* guitar in your underwear. Sorry buddy, but I don’t think Strings appreciates your
nudity while you are handling him,” Harry said sarcastically, referring to his instrument
companion.

Ron started towards the bathroom while giving a snort and said, “You’re just jealous it wasn’t
*you* I was handling,” and with that, he shoved the guitar in Harry’s exposed chest, making
him stagger back slightly.

Harry just rolled his eyes and gave his mate the middle finger, and Ron replied, “Back at you.”
Harry fired back, “Sorry, Bitch Boy, I don’t take sloppy seconds.”

Ron’s remark was muffled by the door slamming shut. Harry shook his head and started towards his
bed. He put his guitar back in its case before quickly getting dressed in a pair of school slacks
and a white button-up shirt. He didn’t bother with his robes; it was a Sunday. Reaching in his
bedside table, he pulled out one of his many sketchbooks and his drawing pencil; he wanted to have
something to do until Quidditch practice, then he made his way down the stairwell. They had the
first game of the season coming up in just a few weeks, Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw, so the Gryffindor
House team had to prepare themselves.

Gryffindor had the reputation of having the best house team ever since Harry’s First Year. They
had won the Quidditch House Cup every year, and Harry was going to leave this school still holding
that title. He had never lost a game in all six years so far, and he wasn‘t planning on missing the
snitch any time soon. He was the Seeker, Ron Keeper, and Draco was one of the Chasers.

The two beaters were Jeremy’s little brother, Nick Carmichael, who was in his Fourth Year, and a
fellow classmate of his, Jenna Stevens. A Sixth Year, Marshall Kofacts, and a Third Year, Tammy
Elliot, made up the other two Chasers on the team.

Harry was really excited about the upcoming game; he always was, but there was something about
the first game of the season that gave a Quidditch player a sport’s high that made you feel like
you were on top of the world. The Ravenclaw House team wasn’t too bad. They had a decent Seeker,
Cho Chang. Harry couldn’t stand her. She “ruled the school” and was sought after by much of the
male population. But of course, with the looks and popularity, came her bitchy attitude and dry
personality. She had tried to make a few moves on Harry, but she saw that nothing was happening and
gave up. Instead, she tried to crack a few remarks that made Harry mad, but she always used the
same boring lines, they lost their effect soon after they started. Harry was looking forward to
beating her in the first Quidditch game of the season. If anyone deserved to be taken down a peg or
two, Cho Chang was the perfect candidate.

Harry was lost in thought when he suddenly realized he was standing in front of the Great Hall.
He didn’t remember making the long walk there from the Tower; he suspected he had taken this route
so many times, that his feet could carry him here automatically, even when their owner was
preoccupied with Quidditch. With a shrug, Harry continued into the Great Hall.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione looked up from her essay for Charms. She was getting tired, but she really wanted to
finish up this last scroll. She was on her fourth one, and her hand was starting to cramp. She laid
her quill down to flex her fingers. Currently she was sitting in a corner of the near-empty
Gryffindor Common Room. It was about midday and everyone was out with their friends on this Sunday.
But she was here trying to figure out what else to write for an essay that was due in two weeks.
She had read something about this Charm in a book while leafing through it at the library, but she
wasn’t quite sure if it originated in Rome or Romania. A dull ache pulsed through her troubled mind
as she racked her brain to try and picture the section she had been looking at. She sat there for
another futile ten or so minutes before finally deciding to make a quick run to the library and
check. She was almost positive it was Rome, but still, she wanted to make sure. So after neatly
packing up her things, she started towards the library to finish up her essay.

Twenty minutes later, Hermione emerged from the library with a finished essay. After a quick
check in that book, she was able to finish off the scroll and another one as well. She felt quite
pleased with herself at the moment. She decided that she might grab something sweet from the her
room and then maybe take a walk around the lake before tackling her Potion’s review questions for
their big test the next day. Hermione as slightly nervous because it would make up so much of their
grade, but she still felt confident that with a little bit of studying and a good night’s sleep,
she would do fine.

Hermione was roused from her thoughts by a loud, shrill voice, belonging to Cho Chang, a
Ravenclaw Seventh Year. There was a large group of girls in the corridor, all giggling and looking
up at the black-haired girl, who had her attention focused on another girl. The other girl was
jumping up and down excitedly.

“What is it?!?! What did you hear?!?!” Hermione could tell Cho was excited, but was trying to
hide it.

“Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God, Cho, you will never believe what I just heard!!! Nancy said
she heard Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones saying that they heard from one of the other Hufflepuffs
that Pansy Parkinson and John Avery just broke up, like, half an hour ago! And I talked to a friend
of one of his friends, and from what they told me, he has his eye on you now!!! Isn’t that
great!?!?”

Cho tried to look calm as all of this new information was explained to her. She nodded with a
wide smile on her face and flipped her hair with a giggle. “Of course he wants me, I mean, what’s
not to love?” She asked, rolling her eyes for extra drama and doing some shake with her body that
Hermione betted that she probably practiced that jig in front of the mirror religiously. The other
mindless girls looked up to their leader as if she was some Greek Goddess. And in most of the
school’s opinion, she was.

Another one of the girls with red hair spoke up, “You are so lucky Cho! I bet he asks you to the
Fall Bash! And after that, who knows?! I bet he is sooo great in bed!”

Hermione looked at the scene unfold, thinking about how pathetic they all looked. *’What’s the
Fall Bash?*’ she wondered vaguely, not really caring. And honestly, how could girls get so
worked up? By the sound of it, these ‘news’ were pretty far down the grapevine, so who really knew
how valid anything that girl just said was? Hermione was so lost in thought, she didn’t realize the
Ravenclaws had stopped gossiping and were now looking her way.

“Ah, look what Mrs. Norris must have dragged in,” Cho’s voice was taunting and cold. Hermione’s
refocused her eyes one the group, slightly surprised to see them only feet in front of her now.
Hermione just rolled her eyes at their weak insult.

“Honestly, Chang, if that’s the best you can come up with, you really need to go back to drawing
board. Or better yet, don’t waste your time because you still would only come up with petty
insults.” Hermione tried to sound bored. She really didn’t want to get into this right now.

The Ravenclaw just smirked, “Oh really? Is that what you do in your free time? Sit and try to
come up with clever remarks to every possible insult? Sorry, Granger, but I *have* a life.”
She did the little talk-to-the-hand gesture for added effect, then flipped her hair
disinterestedly.

Hermione gave a snicker, which cut short Cho’s drama gestures. “Actually, Chang, I dunno if what
you have *is* considered as a “life.” In order to have a life, you must live, and in order to
live, you must be real, and sorry honey, but you are about as fake as they come. So in reality, the
only things you have are cheap cosmetics and a really poor personality.” Hermione watched as the
girl tried to take all this in. She had a confused look on her face. Hermione just gave a fake
smile, “Don’t try to match wits with anything smarter than a piece of cheese, Chang, ‘cause trust
me, you’ll lose *immensely*,” and with that said, Hermione almost skipped away to her
dormitory.

After neatly writing out the answers to the review questions, Hermione got out a notebook and
pencil. She popped another mysterious bean in her mouth, then settled down on her violet comforter
and opened her poetry notebook to the next clean page. Hermione wanted to write something about
this year’s events so far, even if it hurt some to do so. Se wanted to do this while they were
still vivid in her mind. Lying back against her plush pillows, Hermione let memories of this year
flood her mind as she closed her eyes. Different moments flashed through her brain:

She could remember the awkwardness and how nervous she had been…

*She stuck out among the smaller children, but she tried not to notice. They were all looking
up at her, not knowing what to think. But when the boats came forth at their own accord, they
changed their interest to the boats.*

*The lake was dark. Hermione couldn’t make out much with just the lanterns. Suddenly, she
heard “ooohhhh’s” and “Aaahhhhh’s” coming from the younger First Years. Looking up to see what was
so interesting, and she sucked in a deep breath. It was Hogwarts. The castle was dark and you
couldn’t make out the grounds. Lights were in the windows, making the castle look so welcoming.
Hermione watched, transfixed, as they neared the castle.*

She could still feel everyone’s eyes on her as she let it be known that she was Hermione
Granger…

*Professor McGonagall looked back down at the parchment she was using to read the names off.
In a clear, ringing voice, she announced Hermione’s name, “Hermione Granger!”*

*The Great Hall was already quiet, but at the sound of Professor McGonagall’s voice, everyone
went completely silent. The Ravenclaw table’s greeting to Franklin were punctured at once.
Everyone’s eyes were on the small group of new students, trying to figure out which one it was. A
murmuring took over the silence as the seconds pressed on. With a deep, nervous breath, Hermione
stepped forward.*

*She tried to keep her head held high and show a nice, brisk walk. But she was nervous. She
could feel sweat slowly slide down her forehead and down the side of her face. Her eyes seemed
unfocused and the short walk seemed to never end. The Hall had grown completely silent when she
stepped forward from the throng of new pupils.*

*She tried to swallow, but her throat was tight. It hurt. She didn’t look around to anyone,
never taking her eyes from the stool. Her destination. She felt as if her feet were too big and she
might stumble any second. But she didn’t. With another deep breath, she turned around and sat,
facing her peers. The witch lowered the Sorting Hat onto her head, and before she knew it, the
Great Hall disappeared and all Hermione saw was the black rim of inside the old hat.*

*“Ah…a Granger.”*

The hurt and complete division she had with her fellow students…

*Hermione let out a breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding. She felt the Sorting Hat
being lifted off her head. She wasn’t met with applause. No, it was still dead silence. All eyes
were on her. Hermione could feel her face flush with embarrassment. They didn’t want her. Her own
house wasn’t going to welcome her. She tried to keep her head still held high as she made her way
over to her house table. Stares. Everyone was staring. There was a soft applause, and Hermione saw
it coming from the headmaster. The walk to the table was much like the one to the Sorting Hat.
Awkward and silent.*

She had been so lonely over those first few weeks, and it had hurt so much, she felt as if she
was some other species that was ugly and would never be accepted…

*A girl with dark hair reached over into her nightstand and took out a big, red marker. Making
her way to the door, the girl opened it. Hermione watched as she made a big X through Hermione’s
name. “This isn’t your dorm, it’s upstairs. Your things are by the stairs, you can leave now.” The
girl stated nastily, crossing her arms in front of her chest.*

*“Muggles? Really, I guess that just makes you a dirty, little Mudblood, doesn’t it? ‘Cause
that’s what you are; nothing more than a filthy, Mudblood bitch that’s trying to play a hero. Guess
what you piece of filth, we don’t like Mudbloods or Grangers, so you’re just shit out of luck.” His
voice was low and menacing. His eyes were two, blue ice chips and he was giving her a nasty look,
almost daring her to say something back to him.*

*He had a bite of impatience in his voice this time, “No we’re not kidding. Now
move…*Granger*.” He said her last name with emphasis, with a hint of accusation. His eyes
still burning into hers.*

*After talking with several concerned parents, I have found out the majority are against
Hermione Granger attending Hogwarts. Many think of her being nothing short of a nuisance and are
concerned about her presence may distract their children from learning.*

*“Who do you think you are bitch? Do you think you can just butt in other people’s business?
Well, we’re just going to have to show you what happens to nosy little motherfuckers like you!” and
before Hermione could reach for her wand, she found her chest being shoved up against the wall, her
head colliding with the cold stone. Avery yanked her head back by her long hair. Hermione felt his
knee in her back, applying an enormous amount of pressure, and she cried out in pain. Another yank
of her hair, making her head snap backward. She bit her lip in pain, and tasted blood. She gave a
jerk, trying to free herself, but was thrown to the cold, stone ground.*

*Hermione rolled over, but then felt someone kick her in the stomach. She gritted her teeth
and rolled over again, and tried to push herself up on her knees, still doubling over in pain. Her
head ached and she felt something warm trickle down from her left temple. Her abdomen was
throbbing, and she pulled her arms around stomach protectively, before being pulled to her feet
again. This time they shoved her against another wall, and a sharp pain seared through the back of
her head when it was rammed against the stone.*

*As she made her way down the stone path, Hermione tried to fight off the twinge of jealously
she felt when seeing other students laughing and talking carelessly with their best
friends.*

Hermione bit her lip as her eyes fluttered open. Her throat was too tight to speak, so instead,
she let her hand to all the talking:

**I look, and someone is waving my way,**

**Too bad it’s to the person behind me.**

**I search the lunchroom for a place to sit,**

**Looks like the corner alone for me…again.**

**I try to ignore the emptiness I feel ,**

**While sitting against the wall at recess, watching everyone else**

**I’m all alone at school; I’m the social outcast.**

**I face it everyday; I can handle it.**

She felt tears start to roll down her cheeks as her thoughts moved to home. More memories began
to reel through her mind, this time they took place at home:

They always stood by their decisions, no matter how unjust they were…

*“Hey, I was wondering if we could talk.” Hermione asked, standing in the middle of the room
awkwardly.*

*“Of course dear, what is it?” Her mother asked, looking slightly worried. “Is something
wrong?”*

*“No! Of course not. I just, well I got my Hogwarts letter today and well,” Hermione glanced
at her parents, noticing the glance they shared, but nevertheless, she pressed on,” Yeah well, I
was wondering what you guys thought about me maybe attending Hogwarts this year, you know, it would
be my last year, and I’ve worked really hard the last couple years. I want to be able to graduate
from a real Wizarding School.” She looked up again, there was that glance again.*

*Her father sighed, “Hermione, you know that’s not a good idea. That would just lead to
trouble. Let Madam Suddusk continue to teach you, you don’t need to go to Hogwarts.” His voice was
flat, and Hermione scowled.*

*“I think your father’s right, honey, it’s for the best,” Her mother said, tonelessly.*

*“It’s not fair. I think I should be able to go! I don’t care what in the hell my last name
is, I am not going to be held back because of it! I didn’t do anything wrong! If they can’t like me
for me, then that’s their problem. I know the opposition I will face, but I know I can handle it.
Clarence thinks it’s a good idea. It will show everyone Grangers aren’t quitters, and that there
are still some of out there!” Her parents wouldn’t understand. There was no way they would ever
know the thrill of waving a wand and turning a cat into a candle, or making a book across the room
fly straight to you. They were Muggles, so were their parents, and their parents, there hasn’t been
a magical person in the family for years. She wasn’t going down without a fight.*

*“Watch your language young lady and, I said no and I’m not going to argue with you!” Hermione
could hear the finality in her father’s voice, yet still she wasn’t done.*

*“I don’t see why I can’t go! It’s my life. If I want to go, I know what I’ll face, but I know
I‘m strong enough to handle it! I almost seventeen years old, I think I can make my own decisions!”
But nothing was going to work, she couldn’t persuade her parents; they were a rock. And as she ran
into her room that night, she promised herself she would be going to Hogwarts this year, there
wasn’t a doubt about it.*

*“Call it what you want, Hermione, but it’s all rubbish to me, just a little fantasy you are
living in. Instead of learning all that magic nonsense, you should be doing something worthwhile.
This paranormal universe you keep in your life is just getting in the way of more relevant
happenings. You should preparing for your next year in high school and whatnot.”*

*This had been brewing for a while now, Hermione knew. Anytime she mentioned magic or said she
would be going to Madam Suddusk’s, she didn’t miss the glances that tinged with bitterness or the
sighs that unveiled their concealed disappointment. She had just hoped it wouldn’t come to a head
any time soon.*

*Even though she wasn’t a dreamer, she slipped into fantasy every once and while, and this was
one of the few occasions when she had believed her idealist accounts might come true and she would
be able to avoid confrontation with her parents with her leave for Hogwarts so close. But it was
just too much of an optimistic farewell vision, and she should’ve seen something of this sort
coming. Why was she so unprepared now? When had she let idealism overcome her realist intentions?
All she could think to do was face it head-on. Despite the shame her name brought to the Wizarding
World, Hermione had developed a slight protective attitude over magic. If her parents insulted
magic, they insulted her. They make a mockery display of her.*

*“Hermione, where are you go-” But she was cut off but the door shutting behind Hermione. She
tried to ignore the stinging in her eyes as she retraced her route from earlier into this Hellhole.
By the time she made it to the lobby, tears were slowly making their way down her cheeks. She met a
light drizzle once she got outside. Hermione spotted a coffee shop with a small bookstore connected
to it just across the street. Hurrying across the busy traffic, she made it inside by the time the
rain started to pick up a bit.*

She was nodding her head as if she was watching a filmstrip for the tenth time and knew exactly
what slide was next. Different thoughts and phrases clouded her mind as she tried to come up with a
suitable start. After re-reading her first stanza, the words began to flow again:

**I sigh as I watch them turn away with a deaf ear again,**

**It’s a shame my parents don’t listen enough to get to know me.**

**I listen with tears rolling down my cheeks,**

**While my parents tell me I’m not good enough.**

**I cry when I’m in my room, all alone,**

**Realizing this is how it will always be.**

**I’m all alone at home; I’m the family outcast.**

**I face it everyday; I can handle it.**

Her thoughts began to roam for a new starting line for the next verse. There was home and
school, but what else? What other things about the past could she write about? Or maybe instead,
she could write about what was yet to come? Or what she wants? Glancing over the first two stanzas
a few times, an idea came to her. Or better yet, what *can’t* she handle…?

**I set my goals high and have every intention of achieving them,**

**No one believe in me, but I won’t give up.**

**I try harder, giving 150% on everything,**

**They don’t think I can do it, but I won’t give up.**

**I put high expectations on myself, only to impress no one,**

**It doesn’t matter; I don’t care because I won’t give up.**

**I’m all alone in my future, I am the outcast.**

**I will face it everyday; I will handle it.**

Hermione pondered for a second, wanting to word the ending just right. With a defiant look on
her face, she skipped a line then wrote the last two lines of her poem:

**Failure? It’s not an option…I can’t handle it.**

**I am the outcast…Do I Belong?**

On the top line of the paper, she wrote neatly the title:

**Do I Belong?**

**“Outcast”**

**By Hermione Granger**

*+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++*

“We are going to kick some Ravenclaw ass!” Ron said, his loud voice ringing through the
Quidditch changing room. There was a murmur of agreement as everyone began to file outside and back
to their Sunday activities. Practice had just ended, and Harry thought they were doing
exceptionally well and the Ravanclaw team had no chance in Hell on the field against them the first
week of November, which was the date of the game. They still had a few weeks, so hopefully by then
their performance with be up to perfection. Until then though, they all had loads of homework that
needed to be done. This was their last year, meaning they had to take their N.E.W.T.S. at the end
of the year. The professors had them working so profusely right now, it had felt great to get in a
little escape, such as the Hogsmeade trip from yesterday and getting on a broom today for a little
while.

Two and a half hours later, Harry could be found in the library with an open Astronomy book on
the table and little doodles of various things drawn all over his homework. He hated Astronomy; it
reminded him too much of his old wretched Divination class with Trelawney. His old professor had
the habit of predicting freak accidents that were bound to happen to Harry in his short life. So
far, the only thing she could tell accurately was the day of the week, and she even got that wrong
half the time. Harry figured all the hideous smelling fumes in her room had messed with her brain
so it wouldn’t function normally. She says she’s a Seer, but Harry just thought Trelawney had a bad
case insecurity and sense of belonging, so she just tried to be something she wasn’t.

Back to the questions he was suppose to be answering. He still was making the progress of a
snail and his eyes wouldn’t focus on the print in the stupid book. Finally after a sigh, he just
jotted down a few words for each of the remaining questions and put the book away. That was the
last of his homework that was due tomorrow. He had a few other things that really needed done, but
he would do those after dinner. Right now, he was starving.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was the announcement Harry hated every year since his Fifth Year. The Fall Bash. It was held
at the Three Broomsticks every year right in the middle of October. The Fall Bash was a dance/party
that Harry refused to go to. He hated dances; to him, they made no sense at all. Why stand there
next to the wall or sit at a table while all sorts of people were doing the stupidest movements
with their bodies that made them look like complete lunatics? The fact that he couldn’t dance
played a role in his dance loathing as well. He didn’t even want to know how to dance; it just
seemed so pointless. But he would be going this year as the band that would be playing. Rosmerta
had been so pleased with yesterday’s performance, she asked them if they would be interested in
playing this year at the Fall Bash, so they agreed. So Harry guessed he had something to look
forward to at the dance.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione had found out what the Fall Bash was that Cho and her friends were all gushing about.
Professor Dumbledore had made the announcement that it was a dance that would be held in Hogsmeade
at the Three Broomsticks. Hermione had never been one for dances; she never went to any at her old
high school, and she didn’t plan to start now. Instead, she was going to take advantage of this
trip to Hogsmeade and explore the village even further. She had thought about writing to Clarence
to see if she was free, but then decided against it. Hermione didn’t want to impose. She couldn’t
depend on Clarence every time now could she?

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The next two weeks flew by rather quickly, and Hermione had grown to have a whole new
appreciation for her dormitory. Everywhere you went, there were people talking about the dance
coming up, whether it be giggling girls fretting about who was going with who or what they were
going to wear; or it would be guys talking about how they wanted to take the prettiest girl they
could, but they didn’t know who. It was in the Common Room, the library, the Great Hall,
lavatories, and even in the middle of class. When she was making her way to her dorm, Hermione
would see all these girls venturing from one dorm to the next, giggling and chatting about what
they were going to wear. Her only sanctuary was her dormitory.

Hermione had all her homework done for the weekend. The students Fifth Year and above would be
leaving for Hogsmeade soon, so Hermione tried to find something to wear. There was a slight crisp
in the air, reminding them that the summer sunshine was in hibernation for the upcoming winter. But
that was okay with Hermione because autumn was her favorite season anyway. She loved to rake up all
the leaves and jump into them over and over just like a little kid. Also, Hermione would just sit
there at the window and marvel about how extraordinary beautiful the world really was. In
everyone’s fast paced lives, people don’t appreciate how simply beautiful the world is around
them.

Finally, she decided on a pair of loose-fitting brown corduroy jeans and a long-sleeved orange
shirt with a pocket in the front of the stomach for her hands. She also grabbed a light flannel
jacket and tied it around her waist in case it gets chilly later on. With one last look around the
room to make sure she wasn’t forgetting anything, Hermione made her way to the Entrance Hall.

Downstairs, Hermione looked really out of place among all the nicely dressed students. Girls
were wearing dresses and the guys were all wearing something similar to a pair of slacks and button
up shirt, and some were even wearing a set of robes as well. She got a few dirty looks as she
waited for the doors to open.

Hermione imagine what she must have looked like, standing here in front of them in her braided
pigtails and corduroy jeans. She must have looked twelve or something. But that didn’t matter. She
was fine with it, so she just ignored them.

“Hey, Granger, where’s your date? Is he in a barn stall waiting for you to come pick him up? And
what are you wearing?!?! You look absolutely hideous!” The girl’s snide comment brought many laughs
from the students in the vicinity. The doors opened for them to leave.

Hermione just smiled a tight lipped smile before retorting, “No, but it looks as if your date
belongs in a barn,” and with that said, she left a fuming girl and her date behind as she made her
way to the Entrance Doors. The air was cool, and Hermione was glad that she brought her jacket, it
would be getting cooler as the night went on.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

There dance was in full swing. It was being held in a back room at the Three Broomsticks and
everything looked great. There were tables and booths lining the walls with a large dance floor in
the center. A small stage for the band. Pumpkins and scarecrows were everywhere, and large leaves
that changed different fall colors hung from the ceiling.

Right now, Harry was getting something to drink during the thirty minute break.; the other band
members wanted a few dances. He grabbed a paper cup and filled it with pumpkin juice from the punch
bowl. Then he grabbed a few cookies that were shaped like pumpkins before leaning against the
table. He didn’t notice a girl approach him.

“Hey Harry, this is a great dance, don‘t you think so?” Her voice startled him. Harry looked to
see a girl standing in front of him.

He just shrugged disinterestedly and took another bite of his cookie.

The girl’s cheeks tinged pink and she went on, “You guys did really great up there. The band I
mean.”

Harry nodded and said, “Oh yeah? Thanks, I’m glad you liked us,” he turned around to refill his
cup with pumpkin juice.

There was a silence before she said, “I love this song. Do you like it?” She was referring to
the song playing on the magical radio that they had turned on while they were taking a break.

“It’s okay,” Harry replied, finishing off his last cookie and glancing down at his watch. He
really wanted to get away.

Blushing more than ever, the girl finally ask what she came over here in the first place. “So,
um, do you want to dance? I mean, you know, you’re probably getting tired of singing up there.
Surely you want to have a little fun?”

Harry shook his head before saying, “No, I don’t like dancing. And I’m having plenty fun up
there singing, and if you’ll excuse me, I want to get a little fresh air, It‘s really stuffy in
here,” and with that, he quickly left the disappointed girl.

Harry made a beeline for the exit doors. Once he was outside, he breathed in the clean, cool
air. He looked around the dark village. He sat down on one of the benches in front of the pub and
leaned back. He let his eyes roam the village while he hummed an unfamiliar tune, his mind thinking
nothing in particular. His eyes caught sight of a lone silhouette.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione got up from the café table and tossed the rest of her ice cream in the trash before
going back down the stone road again. What was she thinking? Getting ice cream on a chilly night
like this one. She gave a small shudder and put on her blue flannel jacket. The Three Broomsticks
was coming into view, but she didn’t want to go in there, even though a nice butterbeer sounded
like heaven right now. Instead, she would take a detour up to the Shrieking Shack just up the hill
there.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Once the light hit her, he recognized the silhouette belonging to Hermione Granger. He suddenly
sat up. He remembered the thoughts he had in the shower just a few weeks before. She hadn’t really
preoccupied his mind lately, with all the schoolwork and the Quidditch game coming up. He stood up
and looked back at the café, before turning his gaze to the girl making her way up the hill leading
to the Shrieking Shack. He wanted to say something to her, not knowing what. He was still confused
as ever. He knew she didn’t deserve his hate, but he couldn’t become friends with her. And he
wanted her to know that. But he couldn’t tell her, which just made no sense at all. He licked his
lips unconsciously as he tried to figure out what to do.

Suddenly, he sensed someone watching him. His eyes squinted through the dark, trying to figure
out who it was. Hermione’s back was turned to him, so he knew it wasn’t her. Finally, a tall figure
stepped out of the shadows on the corner. Harry recognized it immediately as the headmaster Albus
Dumbledore. His blue eyes weren’t twinkling like they usually did. Instead, they were curious and
calculating, as if trying to judge Harry’s next move.

Harry felt as if the headmaster could see right through him. He always made him feel that way.
Harry knew that Dumbledore could see Harry’s dilemma. And he was waiting to see his choice. Harry
watched as the headmaster glanced in Hermione’s direction in a coaxing gesture. It was as if he way
saying that it was alright to feel this way. But Harry was still unsure.

A whole minute passed by in silence. Harry was feeling very uncomfortable and slightly
vulnerable. Finally, when the silence was so thick and he couldn’t stand looking into the piercing
blue eyes any longer, he said, “I can’t,” his voice was hoarse and weak, even Harry was surprised
at the sound of it.

Dumbledore said quietly, “She’s a good girl.” His voice was soft, but Harry could hear the
strength behind his words.

Harry just shook his head, “I know, but I can’t.” Harry said just as quietly and shifted his
gaze towards the person they were talking about. He could just her out standing at the top of the
hill.

Dumbledore nodded and said, “What do you have to lose?”

Harry wondered if this was a rhetorical question. What did he have to lose?

Harry cleared his throat and replied quietly, “Everything. My friends, my family…” he trailed
off.

Dumbledore’s gaze moved from the lone figure on top of the hill and said quietly, “The simplest
of acts, such as reaching out to someone in need, can change the world. Maybe, the Lost Ones could
rewrite history by changing the outcome of the furture?” his voice was inquiring, and it confused
Harry.

What was he talking about? The Lost Ones? How is it possible to rewrite the past? Finally he
voiced his concerns, “You can’t rewrite what has already happened…it’s not possible.”

Dumbledore gave a small smile, “No you can’t, but you can change what will become of it, can you
not? The question is, Harry, do you dare disturb the universe?” And with those last words, he
disappeared, leaving a very confused and dumbfounded Harry.

‘*What does he mean, do I dare to disturb the universe?’* Harry glanced back to the hill
where she was standing and gave a small sigh.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione’s gaze roamed over the broken house. The windows were shattered and it was falling
apart, yet there was something enchanting about it. It was such a beautiful disaster. Even in the
dark, Hermione could see how well structured it had looked at one time. Hermione could almost bet
that it held so many secrets and had seen so many different things. Just thinking about the history
of it made her spine tingle.

“Captivating, isn’t it?” a soft voice spoke behind her. Hermione jumped and spun around, her
eyes landing on the person that had startled her. There stood Albus Dumbledore, looking at her
through his half-mooned spectacles, his piercing blue eyes twinkling in the moonlight.

Hermione swallowed, trying to calm down from the fright. Finally, she nodded as he came to stand
next to her. “It’s wonderful,” her voice was soft.

He nodded his head, “I’ve always liked it. There’s just something about it that is so…”

“Mysterious,” she finished for him, making him grin at her.

“Yes, I guess you could say that, even if you know the story behind it.”

“The story?” Hermione asked, trying not to sound too excited.

The old man nodded and continued, “Yes, the story of a werewolf and his three best friends. Even
after finding out about his condition, they still stood by him.”

Hermione waited for more, but nothing came. There was a comfortable silence as they waited for
the other to speak.

“The Shrieking Shack is so broken down, no one even thinks to consider its beauty,” Hermione
said softly. “They see the outside, and make up their mind about it. They don’t think about the
inside, or try to dig just a little deeper to find out why it looks this way…”

“Should they? What if the inside is in the same state?” he inquired, watching her contemplate
his response.

“Not it’s physical inside. I mean it more figuratively.” Hermione said, knowing that she already
knew what she meant the first time.

“So something can be beautiful underneath all the ruins? Even if it’s not physically?” He asked,
and Hermione nodded her head.

“Everything has beauty if you look close enough to see it,” Hermione said softly, looking into
his blue eyes.

He smiled at her. “You are far more remarkable than I had ever thought, Hermione Granger,” his
voice was praising, something Hermione hadn’t heard in a while. She gave a small smile.

“What made you decide to come to Hogwarts?” he asked curiously.

Hermione couldn’t meet his gaze. Why was she here? How many times had she been asked that? But
this time, it didn’t bother her. He wasn’t going to be scornful towards her; he was just genuinely
curious. “You know, I’ve been asked that so many times and I still don’t have a direct response to
it. There are so many reasons why I wanted to be here. At the same time, there are so many reasons
why I should have just stayed home. I guess the main reason is because I’m not a quitter.”

“I’m fascinated with magic and this just seemed like the best thing to do. This is what I wanted
to do, and I wasn’t going to give up on something just because everyone was against me.” Hermione
responded, looking back at the Shrieking Shack

He nodded, then said, “Be absolutely sure about who you are and what you stand for. Refuse to
compromise. Don’t give up, Hermione.” His gaze met hers.

It was Hermione’s turn to nod. She was like the Shrieking Shack, broken and forgotten, yet
beautiful and full of mystery. No one gave her a chance because of who she was, and no matter how
much they would run her down, she would still stand.

As if he could read her thought, the old man said, “Go the distance, Hermione Granger.”

And she would.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Right, now, everyone just do what you’ve been doing at practice, and this should be a cinch. We
are going to kick some Ravenclaw ass!” Harry’s pep talk made all the other team member whoop a few
times and they all got their brooms. The sky was clear and there was a hint of chill in the air.
The sun was dull with the gray skies. Perfect Quidditch conditions. The sound of the roaring
students gave the team members that pre-game high and everyone was pumped.

With one last wishing of good luck, they all made their way out onto the field. The Ravenclaw
team was already out there. Madam Hooch blew her whistle for everyone to get in their positions and
the team captains to shake hands. Harry gave a curt nod and then got back in his position. The
Golden Snitch was released, but Harry knew it was pointless to try and follow it with his eyes now.
The second the Quaffle was release and the whistle blew, the game was underway.

The commentary was done by Dean Thomas, but Harry wasn’t listening. His one mission was to find
the Snitch.

“…Ravenclaw in possession, passes to, no wait, intercepted by Kofacts, Gryffindor in possession,
he’s streaking down the field, and he shoots. Ten points to Gryffindor!” There were cheers from the
other fellow Gryffindors. And the came continued.

Cho was tailing Harry, but her broom didn’t have near the speed his Firebolt had. Harry,
meanwhile, was squinting for a spec of gold.

“Ravenclaw scores, fifty twenty, to Gryffindor. No sign of the Snitch yet, but both Potter and
Chang are on the lookout.”

They had been in the game for twenty minutes and still no sign of that stupid ball. Harry looked
behind him at Cho, who was still following him. With a grin, he suddenly dived straight down. Cho,
thinking it was the Snitch, followed without a second thought.

Dives were Harry’s specialty, so right before he hit the ground, he suddenly pulled up so his
broom was parallel to the grass. Cho, not being so good at dives, didn’t pull up on time and landed
with a heap on the ground.

There was sudden laughter from the Gryffidors. Cho tried to quickly get up, completely
humiliated, and get back on her broom.

“Potter was Feinting! Chang really should have seen that one coming. Just goes to show what
house has the *real* brains and who are just a bunch of posers…” he was cut off by
Mcgonagall.

“Thomas!”

“Sorry, Professor, back to the game. Carmichael hit’s a Bludger, almost knocks Henderson off his
broom. Nice hit, Nick. But Ravenclaw Beater Denison tries to return it, shame he hits like my baby
sister.”

“Thomas, will you please just get on with the *unbiased* commentary!”

“Yeah, yeah. It’s not my fault he needs to hit the gym, but enough of that loser…I’m mean
Beater. Gryffindor scores, making it sixty twenty, Gryffindor. Man, my house team rocks.. You
Ravens are jealous aren’t you? I thought so. I know, Professor, back to the game. Elliot has
Quaffle, she’s about to shoot, but of course, the Ravenclaw Keeper decides to wake up and smell the
potion, and blocks it. Damn him. No, I mean, good job, Gryffidnor in possession again…”

Harry’s eyes roamed the stands, looking for anything that was gold. He had already mistaken
someone’s glasses as the Snitch. Harry did a roll in the air to avoid colliding with Jenna Stevens,
a Beater. Unconsciously he picked out Hermione from the stands; her face was filled with pure
fascination. He had spent a lot of time thinking about what Dumbledore had said, but was still
unsure and confused. He had thought about it so much that he got a major headache. He was so torn
between whether or not-

*‘There’s the Snitch!!!’* his mind shouted, rousing him from his thoughts. Like a bullet,
he shot straight for the Hufflepuff stands. It was a rather easy catch. There wasn’t any obstacles
in the way. He closed his fingers around the tiny, cold ball before Cho even knew what was going
on.

“POTTER’S GOT THE SNITCH! GRYFFINDOR WINS, TWO HUNDRED TWENTY TO FORTY!!! GO GRYFFINDOR!!!”

Cheers filled the Quidditch Pitch as Harry and the rest of the team did a victory lap before
getting engulfed by their fellow students once they hit the ground. Harry finally emerged from the
group with a wide grin on his face. Draco clapped him hard on the back and Ron just flat out jumped
him. Harry staggered slightly under Ron’s weight, and tried to push him off while Ron tried to give
him a noogie, messing his hair up even more than usual.

Go Gryffindor!

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

There was an after party in the Gryffindor Common Room celebrating Gryffindor’s win. Hermione
couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she watched her fellow housemates act like complete
animals. It was so funny, and Hermione was in a very good mood. The happy spirit was contagious.
People were laughing a joking around. Hermione watched as Ron Weasley jumped on the couch and
started dancing around to music that wasn’t there. Everyone was laughing as he tried to do the
Macarena.

“Hey, Hermione,” a guys voice said behind her. She turned her head, slightly surprised that the
greeting was towards her. There was a dark-haired boy standing there. Hermione recognized him as
Neville Longbottom.

“Oh, er, Hi, Neville.” She said, still very surprised. She had talked to him before, but just
saying hello or something, and she gave him a little help on a Potion‘s essay once.

“So, did you like the game?” He asked, taking a swig of butterbeer.

Hermione grinned, “Oh yes, it was fascinating! I’ve never seen a game before, and this was
really great. The game looks fun, but really scary at the same time. I’m terrified of brooms.”
Hermione said, smiling.

The boy laughed. “In my First Year, I was terrified of the broom, and it must have sensed it
because the broom bucked so much when I got on it. I fell off and broke my wrist. I had to go to
the Hospital Wing within the first fifteen minutes of class!” He started laughing.

Hermione looked horrified. “Oh my God! That is horrible!” Just thinking about it made Hermione
cringe.

“Yeah, it was pretty bad, but now it’s just something to laugh about.” He said, offering
Hermione a Chocolate Frog.

She took it from his outstretched hand and muttered a thanks.

“Ooohh, looks like Granger’s got a boyfriend!” Parvati Patil’s voice rang out, capturing a few
people’s attention.

Hermione just rolled her eyes, “Oh please, he is *not* my boyfriend.” Girls could be so
immature.

Lavender Brown stepped in, “She’s right, Parvati, even *Neville Longbottom* is too good for
her!” people snickered around her.

“Oh real witty.” Hermione said. Neville was blushing. Hermione could feel quite a few people had
their eyes on her.

“There isn’t even a farm animal that you would good enough for.” That brought more laughs.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“…Your mom is so fat, her nickname is *DAMN*!” Draco said, and the guys around them burst
out laughing.

Ron calmed down enough to say, “Oh yeah? Well *your* mom is so fat, she masturbates to a
cookbook!”

Harry gave a snort and said, “Come on, Ron, that sounds more like you!” Which earned even more
laughs.

“Come on guys. Get some real jokes, and quit talking about each other’s moms.” Harry said, still
snickering.

“Fine, Potter,” Dean said, “You come up with one.”

Harry nodded. “Alright, alright. There’s this guy that works at a super market that was
straightening some boxes, and he sees an older woman digging through the butter. So naturally, he
tries to help out. He asks what she needs, and she says she was looking for the ninety-nine cent
butter. The guy says that there wasn’t any butter for ninety-nine cents. So she says okay, and he
goes back to the boxes. He hears her digging through the butter again, so he asks if she can help
her, and she says she was looking for the ninety-nine cent butter. Once again, he tells her they
are not selling butter for ninety-nine cents right now. She says okay, and once again he goes back
to the boxes. Not even thirty seconds later he hears her digging through the butter *again*.
He’s getting pissed by now, so this time he goes back over to her and before he can say anything,
she says I’m looking for the ninety-nine cent butter. So he asks, ’Miss, can you spell?’ The woman
is slightly surprised at the question and says yes. So he says , alright, can you spell kool, as in
kool-aid? So she says, yes, k-o-o-l. He nods his head and says, ok how about construct, as in
construction? She nods and spells c-o-n-s-t-r-u-c-t. The guy nods again, and says ok, then can you
spell fuck, as in butter? She gives him a weird look and says, there is no fuck in butter….and he
says ‘That’s what I’m trying to tell you bitch, there is no fuck-in butter for ninety-nine
cents!”

All the guys burst out laughing, Ron rolling on the floor.

“That was great, Harry!” But their laughter was short lived because a sudden shriek from someone
caught their attention.

“There isn’t even a barn animal that you would be good enough for.” then there was more
laughter. The boys swung around to see what the commotion was about.

Harry watched as Hermione turned red and said something that he didn’t hear. He shifted in his
seat to get a better look. What was going on?

“Come on, you’re so ugly a guy would rather turn gay before looking at you!” A few more laughs
could be heard. Harry looked at Hermione, who just shrugged. Lavender gave Hermione a shove.
Hermione staggered back slightly, looking surprised. Hermione drew her wand quick as lightening,
pointing it at the girl.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The second Lavender touched Hermione, she lost complete control. She wasn’t going to get hazed
again in the middle of the Common Room. No one was going to touch her again.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*I can’t find the rhyme in all my reason*

*I’ve lost sense of time and all seasons*

*I feel I’ve been beaten down*

*By the words of men who have no grounds*

*I can’t sleep beneath the trees of wisdom*

*When your ax has cut the roots that feed them*

*Forked tongues in bitter mouths*

*Can drive a man to bleed from inside out*

*What if you did?*

*What if you lied.?*

*What if I avenge?*

*What if eye for an eye?*

*“What If” CREED*

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry watched closely as Hermione pointed her wand at the girl. Lavender took a step back,
trying to play it off. The dark look in Hermione’s eyes was frightening. Harry could tell she meant
business. Lavender took another step back and started to giggle.

Hermione had had enough. She waved her wand and sent a hex in Lavender’s direction. Suddenly,
Lavender was knocked backwards and landed in a heap some ten feet away. Everyone gasped. Hermione
then turned her wand on Parvati and did the same.

Harry raised his eyebrows. Everyone was looking at Hermione. Her gaze went from face to face, as
if waiting for someone to challenge her. No one said anything. After taking a breath, she said,
“Look, I’m getting really sick of all of you condemning me. I haven’t done jack shit to any of you.
I’m just trying to get an education here. So just step off ok?” Her voice broke and there were
tears were stinging her eyes. “Just leave me alone! Otherwise, as Shakespeare said
‘Thou_call-st_me_dog_before_thou_hadst_a_cause-but since i’m a dog, beware my fangs’ and for you
illiteracies out there, it means stay the fuck away from me!” and with that, she left the Common
Room.

The Portrait Hole slammed shut.

Two First Years marched up to Lavender and Parvati and said, “You guys are really mean! Hermione
is a nice person and she doesn’t deserve what you guys do to her!” the girl stamp her foot for
added effect. Harry couldn’t help but grin at their statements. He also admired them for standing
up for what they believed in. When they saw that something wrong was happening, they didn’t think
twice about doing the…right thing. Harry gave a sigh and then, without warning, he shot out of the
Common Room. The halls were empty and he spun around on the spot, hoping to see a sign telling him
which direction she went. He should have done this a long time ago.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione was walking down the hall, not knowing where she was going. All she knew was that she
had to get away. Get away from everything right now. She made a sharp turn and collided with
someone.

“Watch where you’re going bitch!” She heard Cho’s voice say. Hermione had her wand whipped out
in a flash again.

Cho gave her a sour look and said, “Oh please, do watch where you’re pointing that thing. You
couldn’t hit a broad side of a barn.”

Hermione laughed, “You keep thinking that, Cho, and maybe I’ll use you for target practice! Then
we’ll see how bad my aim really is.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Hermione could tell that Cho was in a bad mood, but she didn’t care. Hermione
didn’t lower her want, or step down. Cho reached into her robes and pulled out her own wand. “Don’t
tell me you want to duel, Granger, cause I’ll take you down.” Her tone was nasty and agitated. “I
never could stand you, you little Mudblood bitch. You don’t belong here.” Then to add to her
immature point, she stuck her tongue out at Hermione. Before Hermione could retort, someone did for
her.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*My stage is shared by many millions*

*Who lift their hands up high*

*Because they feel this*

*We are one*

*We are strong*

*The more you hold us down*

*The more we press on*

*What if your words*

*Could be judged like a crime?*

*“What If” CREED*

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry found her with Cho and he shook his head. This girl was looking for trouble wherever she
went. He took a deep breath. This was it. This was the part where he showed his true colors. And he
was ready to disturb the universe…

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“You better put that tongue back in your mouth, Chang, before I show you something you haven’t
ever seen before…the other end of it.” Hermione spun around and saw no one other than Harry Potter
coming their way, wand in hand and an angry look on his face.

Both girls were surprised at his actions.

Cho was the first to recover, after flipping her hair, she retorted “Don’t tell me you’re
sticking up for this piece of filth!”

Harry’s grip on his wand tightened, “You better watch what you say, bitch. And besides, if I
were you, I wouldn’t want to be on the business end of Hermione’s wand, I’m positive she could kick
your ass.” he smirked.

Cho just rolled her eyes, “Whatever, I’ve more important things to do than stand around here all
day,” and with that, she left down the corridor, leaving an awkward silence between two rivals.

Hermione was the first to speak, “I didn’t need your help, I could’ve held my own.”

Harry nodded, “I know..”

“I didn’t ask for your help either.”

“I know.”

“I don’t owe you anything.”

“I know.”

“I’m not saying thanks either.”

“I don’t expect you to.”

“Why did you do that?”

“I have a question.”

Hermione raised her eyebrows. “What?”

“Do you dare disturb the universe?

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*I know I can’t hold the hate*

*Inside my mind*

*‘Cause what consumes your thoughts*

*Controls your mind*

*So I’ll just ask a question*

*What if?*

*“What If” CREED*

And that’s the way the cookie crumbles…so please review! I updated this so soon because there
are loads of people on right now, and I want you guys to read and review!!!!

Stay righteous!

*~Archie~*



9. Detentions
-------------

**Hey, thanks for all the reviews! I absolutely love the response I’m getting from my readers,
and I hope this chapter rouses a few people’s attention. Please enjoy this chapter and tell me what
you think, whether positive or negative. Thank you for reading this far without giving up on me!
Also please read the ending Author’s note, I want to have everyone’s opinion on something
concerning my characters! Please review!**

**Disclaimer: Nothing’s mine, blah blah blah. I don’t own the characters or lyrics, and if I
did own the characters…let’s just say things would be a little different!**

**Chapter 9: Detentions**

The silence was deafening. Hermione looked into those emerald pools, not really knowing how to
answer that type of question. What did he mean? Also, she was confused at why he even said
anything. She wished he would look away because his eyes were too intense and inside she was
squirming under his gaze. Hermione felt heat in her face before she finally looked away. When she
glanced back, he was still staring at her, his face unreadable. Clearing her throat, she finally
broke the stuffy silence.

“What do you mean, do I dare disturb the universe?” she asked, meeting his eyes.

Harry’s eyes brightened and he replied emotionlessly, “Just what I asked. Do you dare disturb
the universe?”

Hermione was starting to get a little annoyed now. She retorted not too nicely, “Well, I would
have thought that was rather evident, seeing as how I knew all Hell would break loose if I came to
Hogwarts and I still showed up anyway.”

Harry gave a small laugh and licked his lips. There was another awkward pause between the
two.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry was clueless at what to say. How to do say you want peace? What words would she believe
and hopefully agree with him on? Even more, what could he possibly say that would make her forgive
him and think about having some sort of friendship? Taking a deep breath and running a nervous hand
through his raven hair, he was still at a loss for words.

Hermione finally asked, “Why do you ask?” Her voice was soft and curious, and Harry could hear
the doubt and apprehensiveness in it. He gave a sigh and shrugged, still not knowing quite what he
wanted to say. Hermione gave a nod, then, after a minute of silence, turned around to leave.

“Wait!” Harry called frantically, jogging to stop her.

Hermione faced him and replied, “What? It seems as if you have nothing to say and I’ve got some
studying I want to get done.” Her voice was nonchalant, and Harry hated that he couldn’t find any
words right now.

After nervously running his hand through his hair again, he responded tentatively, weighing each
word, “It’s not that I have nothing to say…I just don’t know…*how* to say what’s on my mind
right now, I guess. I’m so confused and…and…aaaguuuhhh, I hate feeling like this.” Harry gave a
sigh, “Look, do you want to…um…go for a walk around the lake or something? So we can sort all this
out and talk?” He asked, his voice was soft and tired.

Hermione took in his words before shaking her head, still not trusting him. Harry sighed. Damn
she was making this difficult. “Alright then, let’s just say I don’t it to be like this anymore. I
want us to be friends.”

Hermione let out a snort, “Are you joking?!?!” Her voice was disbelieving and full of mirth.

Harry narrowed his eyes and said indignantly, “No, I am NOT joking. Sorry I’m not making this up
for your amusement. I actually want to sort all this out, Gran-…Hermione.” He was slightly annoyed
now. How could she think he was making all this up? Here he was, trying to make peace, and she was
laughing at him for it.

Hermione bit her lip before replying evenly, “I’ve got homework and I’m suppose to be helping
out some First Years in the Library right now. I don’t have time for all this nonsense. You and
your friends are just going to have to find someone else you can pretend to be friends with then go
and have a nice laugh about it later on. Besides, even if you aren‘t being false, I don’t need
anyone’s help. I’m fine on my own. ” And with that, she turned around and left, this time Harry
didn’t chase after her. Instead, he leaned against the wall and put his head in his hands, feeling
discouraged and he wondered if he should even bother. *‘What did you expect, Potter?*’ a voice
in his head asked nastily, *‘For her to just forgive you like that and you two become the best of
friends?’* Harry sighed, this was going to be harder than he thought. She didn’t trust him, and
he respected that, but he wanted her to believe what he was saying. He needed a game plan. She said
she was going to the library. So she was running. To get Hermione to listen to him, he’d just have
to chase her. But first, he needed to figure out what to say.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

What did he take her for? She didn’t need him to sit here and play with her emotions, then go
and have a nice laugh with his friends about it! No way was she going to let that happen. She was
already the laughing stock of the school. Hermione was not going to fuel on their teasing by
playing right into Harry Potter’s hand.

*‘It’s probably some bet he made with his friends.’* the voice inside her head told her.
‘*They were just trying to mess around with me, trying to get me back for hexing those two girls
in the Common Room. He must have drawn the short straw or something.’* Hermione thought, while
slamming a book down on the table. And he had no right barging in on her conversation in the first
place! What was he trying to do? Get her to trust him so she would listen? Hermione didn’t need
someone to pretend to be friends with her. Opening the book, still fuming, a sudden thought
occurred to her and she let out a groan. Her book bag was in her dorm, which was in Gryffindor
Tower. With a sigh, she headed to the back of the Library. Not wanting to attract any attention,
she used a quick Conjuring Charm once she was alone, and her book bag appeared out of thin air.
*‘Thank God for magic,*’ Hermione thought as she went back to her table.

It was still early for her session with the First Years, so she started on her Defense Against
the Dark Arts essay.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*I don’t wanna be like Cinderella,
Sitting in a dark, cold, dusty cellar,
Waiting for somebody to come and set me free (Come and set me free)
I don’t wanna be like someone waiting
For a handsome prince to come and save me
On a horse of white
Unless somebody's on my side
Don’t wanna be
No, no, no one else.
I’d rather rescue myself.
“Cinderella” THE CHEETAH GIRLS*

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry sat against his wall with his guitar slung in one of his arms and across his chest, and a
piece of parchment and pen lying beside him on his bed. His dormitory was similar to Harry’s mind
right now, empty. He had been sitting here for over ten minutes, and still didn’t know what to say.
He played a few chords on his guitar, hoping for some inspiration, but the Muses weren’t his
friends today. He decided to put his thoughts into a song, though he knew it would make no sense at
all. Playing a few easy chords, he tried to come up with something and began to sing softly,
*“Hermione….I am so sorry for the pain that I caused you….this year has been very…confusing
and…and…I don’t know what I want to say…I know I sound like a total jackass right now but I am
clueless….and fuck this is not working either!”* Harry said angrily, tossing his guitar away
from him and picking up the parchment and pen. *‘Get a grip, Potter, just write down what you
want to say, it shouldn’t be that hard!’*

Taking a deep breath, he tried to analyze his thoughts on paper.

**Things To Say To Hermione When I Can Get Her To Actually Talk To Me**

Harry spent five minutes just writing out the first sentence because he still didn’t know what
to say. Glancing down at the lengthy heading that was at the top of the paper printed in artistic
lettering, he just sighed. *‘Alright, I’m just going to write down the first thing that comes to
mind.*’

This is insanely confusing

Walk around the lake- sort things out- be friends

Food sounds good right now…

Awkward-but has to be done- *maybe* mention the Ministry, depends

APOLOGIZE for being an ass

Ashamed of my behavior

Start over- we could be great friends- she’s a good person

Something about how she always has my attention? Maybe? Too forward?

Harry glanced down at his list and nodded his head. That covers most of it, and whatever isn’t
on the list, he’d just have to add it in while actually telling her all this. Now for the oral
part. He glanced around the dormitory once more, just to ensure the fact that he was indeed alone,
before getting up and standing in front of the mirror that sat above his dresser.

*‘I think I’ve lost my marbles,’* Harry thought as he stared at the dark-haired boy with a
funny-shaped scar on his forehead. “Alright, just get his over with.” He glanced back down at his
list again and before looking back at his reflection, “Look, Hermione, I know this is awkward, and
on my part, very confusing, but…” He ran a hand through his hair, “But what we’re doing just
doesn’t make any sense. There is no reason why we should hate each other like this, and I want to
say sorry for all the things that I’ve done. I…there isn’t any way that I can…no that’s not
it…Hermione, I know I can’t take back all the things I’ve said and done…but I want to try my best
to win your trust…aauuggghhhh…Hermione, I think you’re a really great person, I dunno what it is,
but you’re so damn…intriguing it’s just weird! *NO* you can’t say that! That’s not a way to
compliment a girl, Potter.” He gave a sigh and looked down at the paper again, reading his earlier
thoughts. “I am really ashamed of my actions, and I want to do my best to make it up to you,
because I want us to be great friends…Alright, now take it from the top without any screw-ups, and
I might have something here…”

“Honey, if you want that apology to show some meaning behind it, you better practice it again
and again. You’re making no sense, and this girl isn’t going to be too impressed. I’m not.” The
mirror said reproachfully, earning a glare from Harry.

“Shut up! I’m new at this. And I didn’t ask for your opinion! I…I just need to go over this a
few more times!

And with that thought in mind, he began to rehearse a few more times.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Hermione, why were those girls mean to you today? You didn’t even do anything to them.”

Hermione closed her eyes. She was hoping this question wouldn’t come up while they were
studying. How was she suppose to answer that?

“Hermione?” The girl’s voice was full of curiosity and sadness.

Hermione tried to muster up a smile. “Well, V, what you have to understand is that most people
here don’t like me too much. Something happened a long time ago, and people just can’t forgive and
forget. So instead, they take it out on me. It’s not right, but there isn’t really anything we can
do about it.”

Dennis looked up at her. “Ronnie and I told them they were mean. And that they had no right to
be mean to you like that.” Hermione gave the First Year a small smile.

“Well thank you two for sticking up for me like that. I really appreciate it. There is no doubt
that you two have that Gryffindor bravery! Now, back to your homework.” Hermione said in a mock
stern voice, but then grinned at the young children genuinely. They both grinned and Dennis blushed
all the way down to his toes at her compliment.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry glanced around the Library and spotted the study group. He walked right by the table, to
make his presence known to Hermione. She gave him a glare. Harry just grinned at her and took a
seat at a few tables away. He watched her help out the younger students, and when she didn’t think
he was looking, she would sneak irritated glances his way. Harry found it all rather amusing as he
rehearsed his confession in his head.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione couldn’t be more annoyed right now. He was outright staring her way, and Hermione found
it very bothersome. She tried to help the students, while replaying the events that happened
earlier that day in her head. He was really going to the extreme to annoy her. *‘The stakes of
this bet must be pretty high’* she mused, while looking back over a passage in a book. But
whatever, she would not just play into his hand like that. He could follow her all he wanted, that
wasn’t going to get her to talk to him. He’d get the hint sooner or later, just a matter of testing
patience. Hermione looked his way again and let out a growl. Finally, she just turned her chair
around so she couldn’t see him and started to help Dennis with his wrist movements for a
Transfiguration spell. Soon, Hermione was engrossed with the First Years that she almost forgot
about the bothersome boy just a few tables away.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The First Years were gone now, and Hermione was finishing up with her last essay. He was still
there. Hermione watched as he got up to put a book away. Hermione knew he wasn’t paying one bit of
attention to anything written in those books he had been pretending to read for the last forty-five
minutes. Hermione hurried up with her things and made her way out of the Library before he could
follow.

Hermione was walking down the corridor near the Transfiguration room now. She quickly took a
glance around before congratulating herself on losing him. That wasn’t so hard, now all she had to
do-

There he was. Walking her way. Hermione let out a frustrated sigh. He rolled his eyes and gave
her a grin. Hermione turned around and pummeled right into someone with an *oof*. Hermione
immediately recognized the thin frame as her Transfiguration professor, and her mouth was a thin
line. Hermione gulped at her Head of House’s expression. Her voice was strict and tight, “Miss
Granger, just the student I was looking for. Follow me into my office, please.”

Hermione broke out in a sweat and felt a lump form uncomfortably in her throat. What was going
to happen to her? A dull ache was starting to throbbed at her right temple. Where they going to
throw her out of Hogwarts? She tried to swallow, but it hurt too much. She felt awkward as she made
her was behind Professor McGonagall. She could feel individual beads of sweat start to journey down
the side of her face. Her palms were slick with perspiration. Hermione’s feet felt too big and she
nearly tripped on a small crevasse in the stone floor. She felt tears start to well up, but was
determined not to let them show.

What had she been thinking, attacking those girls like that? How could the fact that there would
be consequences slip her mind so easily? But it had all just happened so fast, there wasn’t much
time to think. She just reacted. And now, she had to face the repercussions for her foolish
actions. It had been so foolish of her to act like that. Now, Hermione may be on the train back
home tonight.

Home. Oh how much she had missed it. It had been ages since she had seen her parents, and for a
second, Hermione almost wished she did get thrown out, just so she could see her parents again.
*‘What?!? Don’t be thinking like that!,*’ a voice in her head reprimanded her almost
instantly. But she was tired. She was tired of everything. Today just proved how much to a breaking
point she had become. Hermione never realized just how much she wasn’t in control. She had thought
she was fine, but evidently underneath it all, she wasn’t. And Hermione had turned her wand on
another student. Two students to be exact. What if it happened again?

A sharp voice interrupted her thoughts, “Miss Granger, do you have any explanation for your
actions? Any at all?!?!” Her voice had turned shrill, and Hermione was too ashamed to even look
into her beady eyes.

With her gaze still on the floor, she shook her head and muttered a soft, “No, Professor.” There
were a few minutes a silence that followed her bland reply.

“I have never heard of such disgusting displays of actions among fellow *housemates*! Does
that mean nothing to you? You do NOT go around turning your wand on other students! I thought you
were smarter than that; your grades certainly seem to say you were.”

Hermione looked up at the aged woman. Never in her life had she ever felt so ashamed. Her voice
cracked as she tried to apologize, “I-I dunno wh-what happened. I-I just s-seemed have s-s-snapped.
But p-pl-please don’t expel me! I’ll control my temper, I-I-I swear! I-I’m so sorry! Please,
please, let me stay…pl-please…”” Hermione felt pathetic as she tried to discourage her professor
from making her pack her bags.

“Both young ladies have been sent to the Infirmary. I do hope you understand the seriousness of
what you’ve done.” Hermione nodded, still blinking back her tears.

Trying to compose herself, her voice wavered only slightly as she answered, “I’m sorry,
professor, it won’t happen again.” but before she could restrain herself, she let slip a desperate
cry once again, “Please let me stay here, I’ve worked so hard…please.”

Professor McGonagall surveyed the girl under a severe gave. Hermione had dark circles around her
eyes from lack of sleep, and she hadn’t bothered to put on her daily light makeup. Her hair was
slightly rumpled, with a few knots here and there. To the older woman, she looked completely worn.
Yet, her eyes held a wavering brightness to them, as if whether or not the flame in her orbs would
flicker out completely or not depended on her decision. With a deep sigh, Professor McGonagall said
in an even voice, “I understand what you are going through, and I wouldn’t doubt whether or not you
were provoked, but lashing out is not the way to handle things. Next time, consult a professor. For
your actions, you will receive a two weeks’ worth of detention, and fifty points will be taken from
Gryffindor. Next time, you will need to think before you act. Tonight at five-thirty you will show
up at my office, and I will then tell you where you will be serving your detention. You are
dismissed.”

Hermione felt a tsunami of relief wash over her. She was staying! She gave the professor a
courteous nod and smile, before exiting, but underneath, she felt a pang in her heart. She was glad
she was staying, but it didn’t make things completely better. She still hurt, and now, she knew
things were not going to blow over very easy, and she was tired of all this.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*She wants to go home
But nobody's home
It's where she lies
Broken inside
With no place to go
No place to go
To dry her eyes
Broken inside

Open your eyes
And look outside
Find the reasons why
You've been rejected, and
Now you can't find
What you've left behind

Be strong, be strong now
Too many, too many problems
Don't know where she belongs
Where she belongs*

*“Nobody’s Home” AVRIL LAVIGNE*

*++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++*

Harry held his ear to the shut door to hear better. He heard a muffled voice, which he
recognized as his Transfiguration professor. Her voice was shrill. Harry couldn’t quite make out
what she was saying. With a quick Conjuring Charm, a flesh-colored string appeared out of nowhere.
He inserted one end of the Extendable Ears in his ear, while the other cunningly slide under the
door.

“…never heard of such disgusting displays of actions among fellow *housemates*! Does that
mean nothing to you? You do NOT go around turning your wand on other students! I thought you were
smarter than that; your grades certainly seem to say you were.”

Harry raised an eyebrow at her words. *‘What about what her housemates have been doing to
her?!?!’* he thought angrily. If Hermione’s actions had been disgusting, then everyone else’s
would have to have been downright evil and revolting, including his own. Hermione soft voice broke
the silence, her voice pleading and it broke Harry’s heart instantly to hear her have to resort to
such begging.

“I-I dunno wh-what happened. I-I just s-seemed have s-s-snapped. But p-pl-please don’t expel me!
I’ll control my temper, I-I-I swear! I-I’m so sorry! Please, please, let me stay…pl-please…”

Harry let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding, and jerked the string out of his
ear, staring at it in horror. He was about to walk straight in there and defend Hermione, when he
heard the shrill voice again. He quickly put the sting back in his ear.

“Both young ladies have been sent to the Infirmary. I do hope you understand the seriousness of
what you’ve done.”

*‘What? Madam Pomfrey could cure them in a jiffy. She makes it sound as if they are on the
edge of living and dying. I’ve suffered far more worse injuries than that!’* Hermione’s voice
was stronger this time, and didn’t sound as pathetic, which reassured Harry that she was big enough
to handle herself. He didn’t need to make a scene by barging in. But it still held a desperate tone
near the end…

“I’m sorry, professor, it won’t happen again…Please let me stay here, I’ve worked so
hard…please.”

Harry found himself wishing the same thing, *‘Please let her stay! She can’t leave now, not
when I’ve finally come to my senses…please stay…please stay’*

There was a few minutes of silence. Harry swallowed and wiped his brow, where sweat had began to
form. With baited breath, he waited for his professor’s voice to say she wasn’t going anywhere. And
finally…

“I understand what you are going through, and I wouldn’t doubt whether or not you were provoked,
but lashing out is not the way to handle things. Next time, consult a professor. For your actions,
you will receive a two weeks’ worth of detention, and fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor.
Next time, you will need to think before you act. Tonight at five-thirty you will show up at my
office, and I will then tell you where you will be serving your detention. You are dismissed.”

Harry was so relieved, that he almost missed the dismissal. With quick haste, he yanked the
Extendable Ears out from under the door and took off in a full sprint down the hall, finding refuge
behind a statue of armor. He watched for the door to open, and smiled when he saw Hermione step out
into the corridor. He watched as she gave a quick look around, checking for something, before
dashing off down the torch-lit corridor. Seconds later, Professor McGonagall exited as well.
*‘Whew, that was close, Potter.’*

Harry was at a loss at what he should do. He didn’t want to crowd Hermione, but he really wanted
to talk to her. She was no doubt relieved right now, and his chances at talking to her may be
better than ever. But, he also needed to collect his thoughts once more, even more shocked at how
her almost leaving had effected him so. He wanted to talk to someone, but he didn’t know who. This
wasn’t something he could talk about with Ron and Draco. Writing his parents was out of the
question as well. He was halfway tempted to ask Dumbledore if he could help him, but he didn’t want
to bother the old man. An idea came to mind, and he dashed down the corridor to the staircase.
Hopefully, he wasn’t at dinner yet. A few minutes later, he came to a stop in front of a classroom
door. He tried to catch his breath, before knocking and opening the door. The man sitting at the
desk looked up and gave a surprised grin.

“Hey, I was wondering if you were going to see me today. That was a spectacular catch by the
way..”

Harry grinned and sat down on one of the empty tables in the front row, pulling his knees up to
his chest and looking at the man. “Thanks, say Sirius, fancy a nice chat before dinner? Your Godson
is in dire need of advice.”

The black-headed man gave a handsome grin and tossed his red marker down on his desk. “Of
course, I think I’d fancy a chat with Snape if it got me out of grading these essays for now!”
Harry and Sirius laughed. Trying to pull off a businesslike accent, the Defense Against the Dark
Arts professor said, “So, what is it? Girl trouble?” he asked, quirking his eyebrows suggestively a
few times.

Harry shook his head with a slight laugh. His Godfather then faked an apprehensive look on his
face, making his teeth bite his upper lip as he squinted his eyes, “So boy trouble then?” Harry
rolled his eyes and tossed an extra ink pot that was sitting on the table at Sirius. Ink went all
over his desk. “Gee, Harry, now that was real *mature*!” Sirius said, using a Cleaning Charm
on him and his desk, making the ink vanish instantly. “I didn’t *think* you swung that way, I
was just *checking*; it’s part of my duty, you know.”

“Sure you were,” Harry said sarcastically, “But you were closer when you said girl trouble.”

That statement made his Godfather sit up straight and grin. “Oh so there is a girl! Tell me
everything, mister. I want to know who, what, where, when, why, and how. Is it that girl in
Ravenclaw, Chang? I know she has a crush on you and everything, but from friend to friend here, she
isn’t your type at all. Or is it Head Girl? She seems nice enough, and-”

Harry cut off his Godfather’s ramblings, “No, not that kind of girl trouble. Nothing romantic,
just…well, there’s this girl, and I’m having a little trouble with her. I can’t get her to talk to
me.” Harry said truthfully, picking at a loose thread on the hem of his pants.

“Who is she? And why do you want to talk to her?”

Harry sighed, “It doesn’t matter who she is, I just want us to be friends. I’ve said a few
things to her that I’m not proud of, and I want to apologize…But she just thinks I’m fishing around
and I’m just being all superficial about all this. Also, she barely lets me get two words in
edgewise before she’s gone.”

Sirius nodded, “What have you said to her?”

Harry just gave a shrug, “Things.”

“Things? Ok then, my advice is to either get over it and figure it out on your own, or tell me a
little more than this so I know what we’re working with. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me
what’s been going on,” his voice wasn’t trying to sound mean, he just needed to know a little more
about what Harry needed help with.

Harry ran a hand through his hair and hopped off the table. He began pacing in front of the
desk. “It’s about…Hermione Granger.”

Sirius’s raised an eyebrow in surprise, but before he could get a word out, Harry was going a
mile a minute, “Look, I know this sounds a little dumb, but I have some sort of attachment to her.
And she does not deserve to be treated like this. I really think we could be great friends, but she
just won’t let me get close to her. It’s really frustrating. And she almost got expelled. In the
Common Room she hexed a few girls and -”

“Wow, wow, wow, slow down boy. I didn’t catch a thing you just said. Now, start from the top,
*slowly*, and we’ll see where we can take this,” his Godfather said, raising a hand to halt
Harry’s rambling.

Harry nodded before leaning back on the table, curling his fingers under the edge. “Well…I guess
I should start from the beginning then?

“That would be nice,” his Godfather replied, and Harry noted how serious he had suddenly
become.

“Well, we met before Hogwarts. She was about to take her Apparation Test while I was at the
Ministry with my dad. I had to run an errand for him to the Portkey Office,” Harry continued
recalling the events from that day at the Ministry of Magic.

Sirius burst out laughing after a very red Harry told him about the “incident,” but grew sober
once Harry continued about the Sorting Ceremony and the next day’s events.

“…and every since that first day, there have been little outbreaks here and there. Then…well
Hermione got…roughed up a bit…and I tried to see if she was okay, but she, well…sorta flipped out
on me! Told me it was none of my concern and that I could stopped pretending to care. I was a
little rude after that…and I told her…” Harry paused, remembering the scene vividly in his mind as
he started at the blank blackboard.

‘You got your assed kicked,’ *Harry thought, but something told him that wasn’t the right
thing to say. “Er…you…um got beat up?” He asked wit a shrug. He watched as her eyes hardened and
her knuckles became white because of her increasing grip on the book.*

*“Got beat up? Tell me, Potter where you there? Do you know exactly what happened?” Her tone
changed and Harry could tell she was about to lose her temper.*

*“We’ll, not exactly, but-”*

*“Then don’t worry about it. You weren’t there so it’s none of your business. No reason to
pretend to care now.” She dropped her hands to her hips and fixed him with a glare.*

*Harry was stunned, he was here to help! But whatever, he gave another sigh, “Look, as Head
Boy, I thought I’d make sure you were alright, I guess that was a mistake. I guess I’ll stop
pretending to care. You’re right, I wasn’t there and it’s none of my business.” Harry through his
arms up in the air, but he didn’t stop there, “Maybe what some people are saying is right, maybe
you did deserve getting your ass kicked, running that mouth of yours!” Harry’s eyes widened, and so
did hers. He didn’t mean to say that, it just slipped. Her nostrils flared. But Harry noticed her
eyes flash with sadness and pain, and he immediately regretted his cold words.*

*“Look, I didn’t mean-” He started, was cut off.*

*“No, you look, Potter. It’s none of your business, and it was a mistake for you to come here.
I’ve got things I got to do, so fuck off!” and with that, she shoved passed him and Harry whipped
around in time to watch her make her way over to the group again, give them the book and say
something, before exiting the library in haste.*

“…Well, she was getting all offensive! So…I accidentally told her…that maybe she deserved
getting her ass kicked…because of she liked to run her mouth…” Harry couldn’t meet Sirius’s eyes as
he looked down at the floor, feeling fresh guilt accumulate at the pit of his stomach. No wonder
she didn’t trust him and thought he was being false.

Sirius shook his head as he looked at his Godson. “Harry, no one deserves to be treated like
that, no matter how different they are.”

Harry hopped off the table again and stated pacing. “I know!” he burst out angrily. “I’ve been a
total jerk to her, and I don’t know how to fix it. But I have to, no matter what. I won’t give up.
She needs a friend as much as I need her to be my friend!” There was a few minutes of silence, both
Harry and Sirius lost in thought.

“Maybe…if there was some way I could…I dunno, go back in time before I ever met her, and told
myself I was going to meet her this year…and not to be a jerk, and instead try to be her friend…”
Harry thought aloud, not really thinking clearly.

“Sorry, Harry, but I don’t think that’s an option. Is there anything else? Has anything happened
recently?”

“Yeah, remember that dance we had in Hogsmeade?” Harry asked, looking at his Godfather.

“At the Three Broomstick?” Sirius asked with a nod.

“Well, I went out for a breath of fresh air, and I saw her walking up to the Shrieking Shack all
by herself. Then, out of nowhere, Dumbledore just appears out of the shadows. He…he wanted me to go
talk to her, but I couldn’t. Then he said something about rewriting the past, or changing the
future, I dunno. I can barely make any sense of what he says.”

At this, Sirius laughed, “Yes, the man does know how to confuse the Hell our of you. He has
always spoke in riddles, ever since I’ve known him.”

“Then he ask…he asked if I dared to disturb the universe.” Sirius straightened a bit and Harry
could tell he had his attention once again. “Then he just left. Those words have been on my mind
for a long time.” Harry then went on to explain the events that had happened today, all the way up
to overhearing about Hermione’s punishment.

There was a moment of silence. Harry felt as if an enormous pressure had been lifted off him. It
had felt great to get it all out and tell someone else how he was feeling. He bit his lip as he
watched his Godfather ponder everything he had said. He was growing impatient. He wanted to know
what he needed to do dammit!

“So, do you have any advice? Do you know what I can do to get her to talk to me?” Harry asked,
his tone slightly desperate.

Sirius heaved a sigh, “It seems as if she’s been through the mill, and could really use a good
friend right about now. And I have to say I’m proud of you because you are willing to try to have a
friendship with her. But it won’t be easy, Harry,” he said soberly, looking at his Godson. “She
*is* a Granger, Harry, and you know how they are viewed on the Wizarding World, especially
after Voldemort.”

“I don’t care how it will be. And I know things will be complicated because of Voldemort’s
reputation and his actions never really imprinted a good image for the Grangers, but I don’t care.
She’s not like him! I don’t see why it’s such a big deal! All I know is that I feel like a total
jerk and I want to get rid of this stupid barrier between us,” Harry insisted.

Sirius shook his head, “Harry, there are things you don’t understand where Voldemort is
concerned, and it’s not my place to tell you. But you are right, she isn’t Voldemort, or anything
like him. So if you’re sure, I think this might be an excellent path to take. You never know, this
may help reconcile the feud between your two families. I think it may be time to patch things up
between you guys.”

Harry just shrugged, “I don’t care about Voldemort or any other shit concerning him! That was
years ago! I just want to us to be friends. I’m not asking for a miracle or anything, just a
friendship.”

Sirius grinned. “You’re absolutely right. Then we’ve got work to do. The only idea I can think
up is right up your ally. First off, I just want to say that I am not promoting student harassment,
but desperate times call for desperate measures. And what’s that Muggle phrase? ‘If the mountain
won't come to Mohammed, Mohammed must go to the mountain?’” Sirius said, trying to remember the
exact phrase.

Harry grinned slightly, “Exactly what are you suggesting, Sirius?”

“Well, how stocked up are you on dung bombs and the Weasley brothers’ merchandise?”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione walked through the dark corridors until she came to the dungeons where Professor
Snape’s classroom was. After straightening her skirt, she opened the heavy door and it let out a
loud creak at being disturbed. Looking around the torch lit classroom, Hermione quickly found the
door that led into Snape’s office. After hurrying across the room, she knocked loudly on the closed
door, and without warning it opened by itself.

“Miss Granger, you’re early,” Snape’s voice was soft. He looked up at her from grading essays on
his desk. “Let me finish this essay, and then I’ll show you where you will be serving detention.”
Hermione nodded and took this as a chance to look around the office. There were jars of things
Hermione didn’t recognize floating in midair. Hermione also noticed how cold it felt, despite the
fire of green flames that flickered in the fireplace. His desk was bare, with a few boxes filled
with scrolls of parchment. There was a chair in front of the desk, but Hermione didn’t want to be
rude and just sit down without being asked. Besides, it didn’t look too inviting anyway. Hermione
gave a small jump when she heard her professor mutter something about how he couldn’t believe some
students could be so brainless. She watched as he put a large black P on the right-hand corner of
the scroll before tapping it with his wand to make it roll up and seal. He then put the scroll in
one of the boxes on his desk and stood up. “Follow me, Miss Granger.”

Hermione followed him back into his classroom and then into another door she hadn’t noticed
before. As soon as she stepped in the room, she covered her nose because of the horrid smell.
Torches suddenly sprang to life, and another fire was lit. With the light, Hermione recognized the
room as a very large storeroom. Melted cauldrons and shattered vials littered the floor. It was
impossible to find the source of the smell, due to the fact that many miscellaneous potions were
carelessly spilled over and one even burned a hole in an old table. “Your punishment, Miss Granger,
is to clean this mess up. No magic. I have a pair of dragonhide gloves you can use. I cleared out
all the extremely harmful potions already for you. But you still want to be careful with the broken
glass and cauldrons. You can use the sink to clean any glass that hasn’t been broken, then stack
them neatly in those crates. You will find everything you need on that table. I’ll come and get you
once your time is over for tonight. Any questions?”

Hermione shook her head, “No professor.”

“Good then,” he replied, and then walked out.

Hermione took another look around the disastrous room, before heading to the table to get the
gloves. She surveyed the clutter again, trying to figure out the best place to start. Finally, she
decided to shift around through the mess and get out all the ruined cauldrons. They were heavy, and
some still had potion in them. She had to use a ladle to get the potion in large bottles, and them
dump then down the drain. It took an hour and a half to just get one cauldron emptied, and it
wasn’t even one of the fullers ones.

Sweat was starting to drip from her forehead as she hunched over again and again to ladle the
potion out of the cauldron. Her back was screaming for a rest, but Hermione didn’t dare stop; she
had a rhythm going now, and didn’t want to mess it up.

*‘Bend…scoop,…back up…pour potion in bottle…then bend again…’*

*‘Scoop…back up…pour potion in the bottle…back to bending again…’*

*‘Scoop up more potion…stand back up…pour it in the bottle…bend again…’*

*Scoop…back up…pour potion in-’*

“Dammit!” Hermione cursed under her breath, as the potion slide down the side of the bottle then
onto her shoe, making Hermione drop the bottle quickly to grab a towel, successfully shattering it
into thousands of little pieces and making the potion splash in every direction. Hermione cursed
again as she tried to scrub the potion off her shoes, and now her clothes too. She wasn’t sure what
this potion was used for and how it would react if it came into contact with her skin. Rushing over
to the sink, she dampened the towel tried to scrub her shoe again.

After about ten minutes of cleaning her shoes and clothes, she went back to the cauldron and
looked at the mess she had just made. The smell of the potion was more prominent, and Hermione
could seem the fumes rising from the violet substance that now covered the floor. After heaving a
sigh, she looked around to find another bottle.

Another two hours later, Snape came in to tell her she was dismissed for the night. Hermione
watched as he surveyed the mess, gauging how much work she had done this evening. He gave her a nod
of approval. Hermione went to the sink to wash her hands, then began to make her way to the
door.

“Oh, and Miss Granger…”

Hermione turned around reluctantly, feeling tired and her body aching. “Yes, Professor?”

“I graded your essay on the values of Motion Disorienting Potion, and I must say, I was very
impressed. I could tell you put in a lot of research into it. You mentioned a few things *I*
didn’t even know.” He gave her a small smile, which Hermione returned genuinely. “Good work.”

Hermione managed to stop grinning for a minute to say, “Thank you, Professor,” before leaving
the dungeons, that grin still on her face.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry grinned while he knocked on Snape’s office door, still unbelievable about his luck. This
was usually the last place he wanted to be in the castle, but not now. Now, he didn’t want to be
anywhere else.

The door suddenly opened, and Harry heard his Professor tell him to come in.

“Potter, you’re late.”

Harry checked his watch, seeing that he was actually a few minutes early. “Sorry, Professor,
I’ll be early tomorrow.” Snape just sneered at him.

“You’ll see a door in my classroom leading to a storage room. That’s where you’ll be spending
you detention. Miss Granger will tell you what you will be doing. Now go, before I decide to take
points for your lateness.”

Harry nodded and quickly left the office and headed for the storage room. He slowly opened it,
and was met with horrid fumes, that he almost slammed the door shut. “Uuggahhh, what is that
*smell*?!?!”

He watched as Hermione whipped around from cleaning a cauldron and looked for the source of the
noise. Harry watched with slight amusement as her eyebrows disappeared under her bangs.

“What are you doing in here?!?!” She asked, standing up and her hand automatically going to her
hip.

Harry grinned as he shut the door, “Looks like I landed myself in detention for a week. Isn’t
that a coincidence?”

Hermione glared at him, “Oh really?” Hermione asked, disbelieving.

“Yeah, Sir- I mean Professor Black caught me setting of some dung bombs in the corridors. I was
just trying to scare Mrs. Norris off, but things didn’t work out too well.” Harry said, heaving a
fake sigh.

Hermione continued to glare at him. “Oh really?”

Harry grinned again, “Is that all you can say? Look, I’ve landed myself in detention, what else
is new?”

“You landed yourself in detention on *purpose*!” Hermione accused.

“No I didn’t”

“Yes you did!”

“What? Are you going to argue with me about this the whole time?”

“You are just trying to annoy the Hell out of me!”

“Hey, at least you can’t get away this time. I’m willing to…do whatever we’re suppose to be
doing in this dump, if it means I get to talk to you without having you walk away from me.” Harry
said carelessly, glancing over the room and trying to fight the feeling of wanting to spew his
dinner all over the mess because of the smell.

“I don’t have to talk to you, even if we are going to be stuck together cleaning up this mess
for a week.” Hermione replied stiffly, before returning back to the cauldron.

“Cleaning this up? That’s what we’re suppose to do?” Harry asked, stepping closer and shifting
through some of the clutter with his foot.

“Yep,” Hermione replied carelessly, ladling out more potion.

“Ha! I got you to talk to me!” Harry pointed out triumphantly. Hermione ignored him.

“So you want to be that way, huh?” Harry asked.

No response.

“Alright, alright. But I still got you to talk to me.” Harry mutter, before bringing his knee
and elbow together in a gesture of triumph, and saying, “Yes!”

From her cauldron, Hermione just rolled her eyes. This was going to be a long week…

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*What I offer's unreturned
You don't have time to see me burn
You've so far failed to see
How much you're affecting me*

*“The Other Guy” AVRIL LAVIGNE*

**I know, probably the first thing everyone wants to know is how Voldemort fits in the mix, and
exactly why he was thrown in like he was in this chapter. That, of course, will be explained later
on in the story, this is just a bit of a hint. About the character opinion thing I mentioned, are
my characters out of character? I’ve tried to keep them as “them” as possible, and I really hope I
was successful, but a few people mentioned that I didn’t do to well in that regard. So, please let
me know, so I’ll be able to keep it in mind for future chapters and stories as well. Also, this is
the last pre-written chapter I have written, so the next update may be a long while because it
takes me forever to write chapters, but I hope to have it out soon, so please don’t give up on me!
I want to apologize in advance! Also, one last thing, PLEASE REVIEW!!! I really want to know what
everyone thinks of this chapter. And until next time, rock on, peace out, and stay
righteous!**

***~Archie~***



10. Draco's Insight and Twisted Ankles
--------------------------------------

**Chapter 10: Draco’s Insight and Twisted Ankles**

**Right, believe it or not, I am NOT dead…hehe. I am SO sorry for the long update, and I don’t
have an excuse right now for it, so… yeah. This is kinda short, but I wanted to leave it off right
here. Plus I wanted to post it really bad because some people may actually want an update, lol! So
I guess I’ll just shut up now so you can read! And I want to thank EVERYONE for the reviews! They
mean a lot!!!**

**Recap!**

*“What do you mean, do I dare disturb the universe?” she asked, meeting his eyes.*

*“It’s not that I have nothing to say…I just don’t know…how to say what’s on my mind right
now, I guess. I’m so confused and…and…aaaguuuhhh, I hate feeling like this.” Harry gave a sigh,
“Look, do you want to…um…go for a walk around the lake or something? So we can sort all this out
and talk?”*

*‘It’s probably some bet he made with his friends.’ the voice inside her head told her. ‘They
were just trying to mess around with me, trying to get me back for hexing those two girls in the
Common Room.*

*“Miss Granger, do you have any explanation for your actions? Any at all?!?!”*

*“I-I dunno wh-what happened. I-I just s-seemed have s-s-snapped. But p-pl-please don’t expel
me! I’ll control my temper, I-I-I swear! I-I’m so sorry! Please, please, let me
stay…pl-please…”*

*Harry found himself wishing the same thing, ‘Please let her stay! She can’t leave now, not
when I’ve finally come to my senses…please stay…please stay’*

*“She is a Granger, Harry, and you know how they are viewed on the Wizarding World, especially
after Voldemort.”*

*She’s not like him! I don’t see why it’s such a big deal! All I know is that I feel like a
total jerk and I want to get rid of this stupid barrier between us,” Harry insisted.*

*“Looks like I landed myself in detention for a week. Isn’t that a coincidence?”*

**Right, now ON with the story!!!**

Hermione didn’t know what to think. Why was this boy trying to annoy her so much? They had
detention together last night, and no matter how he tried to get her attention, she had point-blank
ignored him. But it took a lot of her self-control not to hex him until he was recognizable. It
annoyed her to no end just to *know* he was there, like a pesky little fly that swarmed around
your head on a hot, sticky day no matter how much you tried to swat it away.

But she wasn’t going to let him get to her. Maybe he was just trying to get her to lose her
temper again so she would get expelled. Yeah, Hermione bet Potter would just *love* that.
She’d just have to be careful; she was already treading in danger waters for hexing those two
dim-witted girls in the Common Room on Saturday

But enough of thinking about Potter and detention; Hermione had to shower and get ready for
classes.

Twenty minutes later, Hermione made her way through the empty corridors and into the Great Hall.
There was just a handful of early bird students sparsely scattered throughout the Great Hall, and
no one even looked up at the new comer, which was normal. After sitting at her place at the end of
the table, Hermione piled some eggs, sausages, and toast with jelly on her plate before pulling out
a leather-bound book and lost herself within its pages.

More students began filling the Great Hall, and if Hermione had been paying attention, she
would’ve found out that she was the topic of the conversation once again. But she was oblivious to
it all and was only concentrating on her book about vampires.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry bit his lip as he surveyed the Great Hall, internally debating on yet another dilemma,
which is something he seemed to be doing a lot of lately. Hermione was there, which was no
surprise, isolated at her corner of the table. Should he sit with her? Would she just leave the
Great Hall? What would Ron and Draco say? Would they follow him over there once they finally made
their way down here? How would it look to everyone else? But also, how would it look to Hermione if
he *didn’t* sit with her when he was suppose to try and be friends with her?

Maybe he could just grab a bite of breakfast in the Kitchens so he wouldn’t have to choose. That
would be the easy was out, and it sounded pretty tempting right now as well. But, it’s not as if he
could nosh up in the Kitchens for the rest of the year to avoid confrontation with her in front of
everyone. He’d have to stop being a big girl’s blouse and get this over with. So, he stood there,
just outside the Great Hall, weighing out the pros and cons of his choices. He would be making a
statement if he sat with her. . . It definitely wouldn’t go unnoticed, and he would have to face
the likely harsh humiliation of her turning him away again. Finally, he just walked in the Great
Hall and started walking to the Gryffindor table, hoping to see some sign of what he was suppose to
do. He walked carelessly and with confidence, deciding to just stride straight up to her and sit
down. But sometime before he even got passed the middle of the table his began to sweat and cast
his eyes around the Great Hall, feeling as if everyone’s eyes were on him, yet no one was even
looking. His breathing quickened, his earlier confidence left him in a rush and he suddenly stopped
in font of his normal seat and sat down in haste. He snuck a glance in her direction, and let his
head fall with a thump to the table, muttering a delayed, “Ow*.” ‘Could I be anymore of a nancy
boy?!?!’* Harry thought angrily*. ‘What’s my problem?’* Another voice in his head cackled
nastily, *‘You just don’t want anyone to take the mickey out on you, Potter. You’re afraid of
what everyone will think. What’s wrong? You can only try to be her friend in private, when no one
else is watching?’* Harry’s eyes widened in slight shock. No, he was not that kind of shallow
person! He. . . he just wanted to. . . give her some time to sort things out. Plus, it’s just
easier to talk to her when they were alone. *‘And it’s NOT because I’m ashamed of her!!!’*
Before he could dwell on that thought any longer, he felt someone clap their hand on his shoulder
in good morning before taking a seat next to him. He glanced over to his left to see one of his
best friends.

“Alright mate?” Ron asked, giving his friend an inquisitive look.

“All right?” Harry responded, trying to appear normal and not as if he was arse over elbow in
thoughts about Hermione.

“Are you sure? You seem a bit off color. . . and. . . are you *sweating*?” Harry heard
Draco ask in slight surprise from the other side of the table.

Harry shook his head and quickly wiped his brow. “No, I guess I’m just a bit zonked, I didn’t
sleep too well last night. Damn owls kept hooting by our window at all hours of the night,” Harry
said, saying the first white lie that came to his mind. His two friends gave him a lingering
glance, before shrugging and tucking into their breakfast. Harry inwardly sighed in relief and then
stole a glance in her direction to find her starting to get up and make her way out of the Great
Hall. He thought about following her, but then caught Draco looking in his direction, an unreadable
expression on his face. Harry raised his eyebrows at his friend before looking down at his
untouched breakfast, trying to appear half way interested in what he was eating.

“So, how was detention last night?” Draco asked, taking a bite of his eggs. “What did Sirius
make you do? I still can’t believe he gave you a detention for setting off dung bombs!”

Harry tried to grin, “Well, you know, detention is detention. He’s got me doing some dirty work
for Snape; one of his storerooms need clearing out, so naturally the wanker has me doing it without
magic.”

Ron laughed, “Blimey, how did you get stuck with him?!?! Sirius *loathes* Snape, why would
he make you serve detention for him? Has he gone off his trolley? Was he trying to spite Snape by
making him endure your company or something?”

“Yeah, why would he make you undergo such harsh punishment, I mean, he’s your *Godfather*!
He’s always been pretty brill about detention. Remember when I got caught with that talented girl
from Hufflepuff last year after hours? And Sirius told Flitwick I could spend detention with him?
And the whole time we hung out in his classroom talking about Quidditch and fit girls. Especially
this one particular page three girl…wow. But any road, we just hung out, and the harshest thing
that happened was when we ran out of butterbeer about an hour too soon. . . Why would he make you
go to *Snape*, out of every professor here? That bloodthirsty bastard *hates* you! It
just doesn’t make sense. It was just a small prank. You‘ve done loads of more idiotic things than
that and got away with it. ” Draco looked up at the Head table, as if there would be some sort of
explanation for Sirius’s odd punishment.

“Yeah, I don’t get it either. I mean, you didn’t get on your knees and *beg* Sirius to hand
you over to Snape’s mercy, did you?” Ron asked with a laugh, coughing up some of his toast at the
very thought of Harry doing such a thing.

Harry laughed a little too loud and gave Ron an incredulous look, “Of course not, how thick do
you think I am? It was probably just his idea of playing some joke or whatever. You guys know how
he is, always trying to pull pranks at every chance he gets. I’m sure he was just being
stupid.”

Ron nodded, and Harry caught Draco’s eye from across the table; he didn’t look too convinced.
Harry quickly looked away.

“I’ve heard that Granger got a detention too. Maybe she should’ve been the one to have to serve
detention with him, because she seems to be his favorite student after all. It’s a wonder that she
wasn’t in there with you,” Draco said casually, but Harry didn’t miss the edge in his voice, and he
didn’t like it at all. Harry glanced up at his accusing eyes, before becoming interested in his
breakfast.

He forced a laugh, “Yeah, I think she got a detention. Snape *would* be right up her alley.
I’m sure he’d like her company a lot more than mine.” He could still feel Draco’s hard gaze on him.
He wasn’t exactly lying, just being evasive and not telling *everything*. . . He tried to
change the subject, deciding to get away from the talk about *her*. But it seemed as if his
friends couldn’t take the hint.

“Can you believe what she did? Just lashing out like that?” Ron asked through a mouth full of
food. “I’m telling you, that is one messed up girl. She acts all quiet and innocent for months,
then *BAM*! Out comes her Granger Side. I wonder if she realizes that her outburst isn’t going
down too well.” Ron said, shaking his head, thinking about some of the rumors that had already been
conjured up among the students since last Saturday.

Draco put his fork down and leaned on an elbow that was sitting on the table. He was quiet for a
few moments, a calculating expression on his face. After a minute, he said, “There will definitely
be loads of rumors and people will have even more of an edge when they’re around her. She didn’t
put herself in the best predicament, and could either A, suffer consequences, or B, benefit from
her actions. The Prophet would have a field day, and people may start to actually fear her
now.”

Harry gave him an inquisitive look, “What do you mean?” Ron, too, looked up in interest.

Draco leaned closer towards the table, as if to keep their conversation just between them.
“Well, think about it, Potter, why isn’t Granger welcome here? Now add the fact that she turned her
wand on some students, her own housemates even; people are going to talk. They already made
assumptions about her before, now her actions just confirm their suspicions. They’ll fear her now.
They’ll fear of what she could turn into. No one wants the rein of the Dark Order to rise again,
and the Grangers are the most prime witches and wizards that are going to bring it about.

“Plus, look at her. She is dangerous if you think about it. She’s definitely got power and the
intelligence to do wonders with it. Things have been difficult for her, so she’s had time to brood
everything over. She’s human, so I’m sure she’s secretly planned some fantasy revenge on everyone.
She could follow the footsteps her ancestors left behind, so no one is going to take the chance of
making that even a possibility. The students are scared, and when they’re scared, they’re going to
try to protect themselves. Who knows what measures they’ll resort to?” He finished, leaning back
from the table and reached for him goblet.

Both Harry and Ron looked surprised. It was evident that neither had analyzed her presence here
to this kind of depth. “How do you know all this?” Ron asked, almost in awe.

Draco looked away and muttered, “I think you’re forgetting who my father is. I’ve heard him
speak of the Dark Lord and about how the rein of terror could easily be taken over by someone else
as long as they had the leadership. Hermione has the make of a new Dark Lord, and I know they are
plenty out there that would follow under her rule. She’s frightening to the Wizarding World,
especially now.”

Harry contemplated his best friend’s words, before finally speaking, “It was something so small,
she just hexed a few girls. . .”

Draco cut in, “Yeah, it doesn’t seem that significant, but it shows that she’s willing to take
on people who stand in her way. What do you think was *His* philosophy? Kill anyone who
resisted.”

Harry slumped back into his seat, a thoughtful expression on his features. Draco gave him a lot
to think about. A warning bell sounded somewhere nearby, signaling that it was almost time for
classes. Harry absentmindedly reached to the floor to get his book bag and started exiting the
Great Hall with his mates. All three were silently pondering Draco’s reasoning and predictions.
Harry heaved a sigh and couldn’t help but think that this could make things a little more
complicated.

He wasn’t sure why, but he wished Draco hadn’t said anything. And he didn’t want to believe his
friend’s words, but he knew their truth. Draco was good at reading people, as well as gauging the
outcome of situations like this one. Though it didn’t always show through, Draco was very
intelligent and could a lot of times see something that no one else could. Harry wasn’t quite as
deep, so he didn’t read so much into a simple hex. He mentally berated himself for overlooking
this, and silently vowed to not be so foolish again. He glanced at his friends again, before giving
a sigh and following them to their first class.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*Welcome to the fallout*

*Welcome to resistance*

*The tension is here*

*The tension is here*

*Between who you are and who you could be*

*Between how it is and how it should be*

*“Dare You To Move” SWITCHFOOT*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione turned left and started down another corridor. Once students caught sight of her, their
hushed conversations hastily trailed into silence, and everyone’s eyes avoided her’s. Hermione
quirked her eyebrows in surprise, and looked around at everyone. What was going on? Hermione cast
an uneasy glance around everyone, before continuing down the deathly silent corridor. Wearily, she
kept glimpsing over her shoulders, but still, no one would meet her eyes.

Suddenly, while Hermione was looking to her left, she accidentally bumped into a Sixth Year from
Hufflepuff, making the few books had in her hand scatter in their near vicinity in the middle of
the corridor. There was a sudden loud gasp of many students sucking in a breath. “Oh! I’m so sorry,
I wasn’t watch-” but Hermione was cut off by the girl.

“NO! It was all my fault, I shouldn’t have been standing your way!” Hermione’s eyes widened in
surprise at the girl’s apology, and was quite taken aback at the slight fear etched on her face.
“I-I-I’m so so so sorry. Please, please don’t hex me! I’ll watch where I’m going from now on,” the
girl hastily shoved Hermione’s in her arms before sprinting down the corridor, as if to get as far
from Hermione as possible.

“What…?” Hermione asked in a voice that was slightly higher than usual. Everyone’s gaze quickly
left her, and they scrambled around, still silent, trying to make their way to class.

In a daze, Hermione made her way to the Charms classroom, still completely mystified at
everyone’s odd behavior. With a slight shudder, she sat down in her usual seat, and mechanically
got her supplies out to begin class. *‘Maybe things will go back to normal by lunch’* Hermione
thought logically, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

But things *didn’t* go back to normal by lunch. Instead, she was still treated as if she
was some sort of time bomb that may detonate at any given second. It made Hermione feel extremely
uncomfortable, as if she was just invisible, but it did have it’s perks. She didn’t have to look
for outstretched legs waiting to trip her so she could give everyone a good laugh, nor did she have
to think up quick-witted remarks to their snide comments because none came her way. So, as she sat
down in her usual spot in the Library at the end of class, while waiting for dinner, she decided
this was a good thing.

Hermione browsed through the columns of books, trying to find one that would help her out with
her Astronomy homework, when she saw a younger student that had been in the same row give a squeak
when she noticed Hermione’s presence. After a loud snap of the book being quickly shut, the girl
nearly ran out of that particular row, clutching the large leather-bound book to her chest.
Hermione felt a sudden guilt, not really knowing why. Why had that girl just ran away like that?
Hermione hadn’t even done anything. She tried to push it out of her mind so she could find this
book, but the look of fear on that girl’s face was etched in Hermione’s mind, and it wasn’t going
away. Finally, after giving up and realizing it was completely futile to continue the search,
Hermione gathered up her things and made her way quietly out of the Library, noticing how no one
would look at her still. She tried to just shrug it off, but it was still lingering in the back of
her mind.

After eating a quick dinner, Hermione made her way down to the dingy Dungeons, where she had
detention with Snape, and *him* again. She hadn’t really thought much of Potter today, due to
the fact that she was still bemused about why everyone was suddenly treating her differently. She
wondered vaguely if he was going to harass her again tonight. She just wished he would sod off and
leave her alone. She hadn’t done anything to him whatsoever, dammit. Hermione gave a huff at the
very thought of him. ‘*Great*,’ she thought irritably, *‘He’s already made me angry, and I
haven’t even seen him yet! Now I’m going to be in a bad mood while cleaning that wretched
room!*’

She turned the last corner, wrinkling her nose at the sickening odor the grimy walls were giving
off, which didn’t improve her mood in the least. And to make her mood even more foul, standing
right outside the large door leading into Snape’s classroom was Harry Potter, complete with
trademark smirk and a definite smugness about him. Hermione gave another huff, before continuing
his way.

His smirk quickly changed into a smile that Hermione may have even thought was nice is she
wasn’t so agitated by him, and said pleasantly, “Hello, Hermione. I thought I’d wait for you so we
could walk in together.” Hermione ignored his comment, and just strode passed him, and into the
Potions classroom. She heard him sigh, but paid no mind to it.

After quickly conferring with Snape, she and Potter made their way to the old storeroom. Potter
got there first, and opened the door for Hermione, letting her go in ahead of him. She felt that
familiar lightheaded feeling and churning in her stomach as the vile stench being emitted from
various concoctions in the room filled her nostrils and she gave an involuntary shudder. She heard
a rough cough from behind her, vaguely reminding her of Harry’s presence. She glanced behind her,
and watched as Harry squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, a look of utter disgust appearing on his
features.

He gave a small shake, then met her gaze, and gave a small grin, “Do you realize that bastard
could use a few charms and clean this dump up in mere seconds? But no, that wanker is out to make
everyone’s life a living Hell.”

Hermione gave him a cold stare, “He isn’t a bastard, and it’s your foolish behavior that got you
in trouble,” Hermione said protectively. She has heard many rumors about the Potions teacher, and
it was no doubt that he was the most hated professor at Hogwarts, but Hermione didn’t think there
was anything wrong with him. He may be a little unfair sometimes, but still, he was a good
instructor, which earned respect from Hermione.

Harry gave her another grin, “Blimey, someone’s getting defensive! You’re not sleeping with him
or anything, are you? That would just be nasty on so many levels, not to mention illegal.”

Hermione’s expression quickly twisted into disgust, “I can’t believe you would even say such a
thing! You are nothing but a perverted, immature prat!” Hermione said heatedly, how *dare* he
accuse her of such a vile act?!?!

Harry quickly realized she didn’t see it as a joke at all, and his face became serious, “I was
only taking the mickey out on you, Hermione, don’t take it seriously. You just seemed to be that
wanker’s favorite student, which is odd because not only are you a bit of a know-it-all,” He paused
when he saw Hermione’s face grow red with anger. “Oh, I don’t mean that in a bad way. No, not at
all. I think it’s good that you know so much; it’s very impressive, especially since this is your
first year of actual schooling. But Snape doesn’t see things that way, so it kind of surprised me.
Plus you’re a Gryffindor, and he only favors his own house.”

Hermione folded her arms across her chest and fixed him with a glare, “Well maybe it’s because I
show some effort and pay attention, something you aren’t too familiar with I’m sure.”

Harry gave a small laugh, “Not in his class anyway. But I guess it’s a good thing you’re one of
his favorites. I bet if you flashed him a little leg, he may put a few charms in this smelly room
to make it smell like flowers or something so we don’t choke to death in it; he wouldn’t want to
lose Hermione Granger, now would he? It wouldn’t hurt to ask. . . ”

Anger seethed through Hermione, even though she knew he was just taking her on. She spun around
and took a look around the room, before making her way to the cauldron she left off on last
night.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry quickly tried to rack his brain of some sort of idea that may keep her talking longer, but
came up empty. He watched her lean over the cauldron before getting to work himself.

An hour later, both could be found with sore backs from leaning over so much, but still, they
plowed on with the tedious work, and finally, some sort of dent could be seen. Harry gave a
satisfied smile, before glancing over at Hermione, who was concentrated on her work. He stood up to
stretch, then swung his arms in front of him then behind him a few times to work the aching
muscles. “So. . .” he began, not really sure how to start up a conversation, “It seems as if we’re
making a bit of a dent, do you think?” he asked casually, but got no response.

He dragged his cauldron over next to hers so he could talk to her, but she gave no sign of
seeing him at all. He watched as she speedily ladled the potion from the cauldron with slight
fascination. Her movements were quick and if he relaxed his eyes, she looked like a blur. “You’re
quite good at this,” Harry admitted, lazily folding his arms across his chest. He earned no
response. He heaved a loud sigh. “So, what was your life like before Hogwarts? Did you like the
Muggle schools?”

Still nothing.

“I went to Primary school until I was eleven; Mum made me. I dunno about you, but I hated it. I
hated the teachers and the kids. I. . .I never had any friends. . . Well, I had Ron, but not at
school. I was always the funny-looking kid that got beat up and teased mercilessly everyday. . .”
Harry whispered softly, staring blankly at her back. He didn’t know why he was telling her this,
but for some reason, it felt good to tell someone, even if she wasn’t paying any attention to him.
“So, Hermione, . . .I have an idea of what it feels like, probably not as bad as you do, but I
*do* have an idea.” He thought he watched her movements still for the briefest of seconds,
before hastily getting back to work. Harry gave a small nod before continuing his own dull
work.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*I know I've been mistaken,
but just give me a break and see the changes that I've made.
I've got some imperfections,
But how can you collect them all
And throw them in my face?*

*“Right Here Waiting” STAIND*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Why was he telling her this? So what if he got teased with he was younger, so did she! At least
he had *Ron*. She had no one. No one *real* anyway. She did have friends that
*weren’t* real. In her books. In her mind. But it was never the same as a real person. So what
did he expect? For her to feel sorry for him?

Admittedly, she did feel a little sorry for him, she would for anyone who was teased and taunted
when they were kids. But what was he hoping to accomplish here? She peeked over her shoulder,
careful not to disturb her rhythm, and saw that his face was kind of sad, and he looked slightly
tired. She noticed he was ladling wrong, and was putting more pressure on his back than necessary
because of his stance. She bit her lip, and before she could stop herself, she said quietly, not
looking at him, “If you point your feet the same way as you body and lean on that crate with you
knee for support, you won’t hurt your back as much.”

Harry looked up, and it took him a second to digest what she said before he adjusted his
position. He felt the added pressure disappear. He gave her a grateful smile and muttered,
“Thanks.” Hermione just nodded in return.

Hours ticked on, more and more work getting done. Most of the cauldrons were now empty, and
Hermione had a feeling that part would be done tomorrow night. Neither had interrupted the
comfortable silence. Hermione felt that something was different, but didn’t want to acknowledge the
change.

Harry didn’t want to mess things up, so he just kept silent. And it was comfortable, in an odd
sort of way.

By the time Snape came in to dismiss them, they had made a good headway into the mess, and both
were satisfied with tonight’s accomplishments. They walked down the corridor together, leading out
of the Dungeons. Hermione kept her head down and her arms crossed tightly in front of her chest,
while Harry awkwardly kept his hands scrunched in his pockets. It was well passed curfew, passed
midnight even. Once they arrived to the main floor, the moonlight shone through the windows, giving
a silvery glow to the corridors. The only sound that could be heard was their echoing footsteps on
the stone floor, but even that seemed to be slightly muffled by some unknown force.

Hermione inconspicuously glimpsed towards Potter to find him staring blankly ahead of them. She
looked back to the ground, unconsciously biting her lip. She tucked a stray hair behind her ear,
then went back to almost hugging her arms to her chest. Without the constant work they had in that
storeroom, the silence was making Hermione uncomfortable, which she didn’t understand because she
didn’t *want* to talk to him. . .she just wanted there to be some sort of noise to distract
her from this unbearable silence.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry wished she would say something, just to acknowledge the fact that he was there. He didn’t
want to have to be the one to start a conversation again, if you call what they had a
“conversation.” Draco’s words kept playing over and over in his head like a broken record. *“. .
.No one wants the rein of the Dark Order to rise again, and the Grangers are the most prime witches
and wizards that are going to bring it about. . . She is dangerous if you think about it. She’s
definitely got power and the intelligence to do wonders with it. . .but it shows that she’s willing
to take on people who stand in her way. . Hermione has the make of a new Dark Lord, and I know they
are plenty out there that would follow under her rule. She’s frightening to the Wizarding World,
especially now.”*

Harry discreetly looked her up and down, sizing her up. She had a distinct air about her, maybe
it was the way she walked and held herself, that shone with power. Her frame wasn’t particularly
petite, and she looked as if she could handle her own. Her hair was slight frazzled, and her stance
was set, which gave her a determined and slightly frightening demeanor. Harry couldn’t see her face
because her head was down, which made her look slight scared, and her arms were hugging her body,
as if for protection. Could she become a new Dark Lord? She had power, there was no doubt about
that. But at the same time, she was kind in nature. She helped out younger students, and didn’t get
spiteful with anyone just for the fun of it. She defended herself, which showed to him that she was
willing to stand up and fight for something and not let herself get bullied around. He wondered
vaguely what the Dark Lord had been like when *he* was their age. Surely she wasn’t a carbon
copy of him, yet everyone was apprehensive around her…

“Oh!” Harry was broken from his reverie when he heard a sharp gasp and felt a tug on his arm.
Hermione had tripped on an unleveled stone and grabbed his arm for support, but she ended up on the
ground anyway.

“Are you alright?” Harry asked, quickly reaching a hand toward her for help her up. She winced
slightly and cursed under her breath. She was holding onto her left ankle with unshed tears forming
at corner of her eyes. She bit her lip in pain. Harry quickly squatted down to her level, and
gently reached towards her hands holding her ankle. She hissed and half-hearted tried to swat his
hand away. Harry pried her hands away, vaguely aware of a sharp tingle of pain somewhere on his
forehead.

“Stop,” she tried to protest, but Harry ignored her. He fell to his knees and stretched her leg
out completely. “Really, I’m fine,” she tried to say, though Harry could hear the pain in her
voice. He made quick work of unlacing her trainer and slowly eased it off. She tried to fight him
off, but he continued his work. He pressed a hand to her stocking-clad ankle, applying a little
pressure until he heard her hiss in pain and mutter a soft, “Merlin, that hurts!” He couldn’t see
much in the dark corridor because the moonlight didn’t provide enough light, but could feel that
her ankle was swollen.

“I think you may have twisted it or something,” Harry said. He was familiar with these types of
injures because of his vigorous basketball playing in the summer, so he knew how she was feeling.
He reached into his pocket for his wand, but then remembered he had left it in his dormitory
because he wouldn’t be needing it. “Um. . .do you have your wand?” She shook her head in response,
wincing from pain. They both sat there for a second, before she made a move to get to her feet.

“Whoa, what are you doing?” Harry asked, pushing he back to the ground.

“I’m trying to get up,” she responded, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Harry shook his head, “You’ve just twisted your ankle, you don’t need to be walking.”

Hermione glared at him, “What do you expect me to do? Just bloody sit here all night? It’s late
and I need to get to bed.”

“Hermione, you’re only going to make it worse, trust me.”

She gave him a push and tried to get up again, hissing from the sharp pains shooting from her
ankle. Harry didn’t know what to do. “I can run back to my dormitory and get my wand real quick.”
He said wistfully, though he didn’t like the idea of leaving her here alone.

“I’m fine! I can get there on my own. Now please *let me up*!”

Harry sat back on his knees, letting go of her, and watched doubtfully as she carefully put her
trainer back on. She reached behind her for the wall, hoping for some support, but was disappointed
when she only felt air.

Harry quickly stood, and then offered her an outstretched hand, “Here, you *are* going to
need some help.” Hermione eyed his hand wearily, but came to the conclusion that this was the only
way she was going to get up. She grasped his hand tightly, her eyes cast downward, missing the look
of pain that crossed Harry’s face. He pulled her up, and she wobbled slightly as she tried to gain
her balance back.

“Don’t let go of me or you’ll fall,” Harry warned, as he pulled Hermione’s hand so it hooked
onto his arm. “Right, now try to walk with you right foot, and limp on your left one. And don’t be
afraid to lean all your weight on me; I won’t fall.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*I hope you're not intending
To be so condescending, it's as much as I can take.
And you're so independent, you just refuse to bend
So I keep bending 'till I break*

*“Right Here Waiting” STAIND*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

They slowly made their way to Gryffindor Tower, which happened to be on the seventh floor. The
progress was sluggish and silent, save a few words of encouragement or instructions on how to step.
By the time they made their way to the Portrait of the Fat Lady, Hermione was almost in tears,
while Harry’s head was pulsing with unknown pain. Somewhere on his forehead, he felt a constant
stinging, but he tried to make it subside as he helped Hermione.

“What are you two doing out at this hour?” The Fat Lady demanded, annoyed at being roused from
her sleep. Her hair curlers started coming loose as she scolded them.

“Detention, now please let us in so I can mend her ankle; she’s twisted it!” Harry replied
tightly, slightly irritated now. The Portrait swung open and Harry helped Hermione hobble through
it and onto the plush couch in front of the dying flames in the fireplace. “I’ll be right back,
okay? I’m just going to go get my wand so I can heal you,” and with that, he ran up to his
dormitory as quietly as possible and grabbed his wand before returning back to the Common Room
where Hermione waited for him.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Hermione asked, with slight apprehensiveness in her
quivering voice.

Harry gave her a small grin, “Nope, I’m going to say a few hocus pocus words and hope for the
best! Of course I know what I’m doing; I’ve had this sort of injury many times. Now stay still and
this won’t hurt a bit, just a small tingling feeling.” Hermione gave him a nod, signaling for him
to go on. Harry slide to his knees in front of her and held her left ankle in his hand. He brought
the tip of his wand just an inch or two above her ankle, then said in a clear voice, “*Talus
Healente*.” Her ankle was engulfed in a dull emerald light for a second before it disappeared.
Hermione gingerly tried to move her foot, then grinned when she felt no pain.

Harry leaned back on his knees, and gave her a grin, which she shyly returned. Harry then got
up, and offered her a hand, which she took after a second of hesitation. He pulled her up and
walked her towards the girls’ dormitories. Hermione played with the hem of her shirt, before
looking up at him.

“So, I guess this is good night. I’ll, um, see you tomorrow.” Harry said awkwardly, shifting
from his left to his right foot.

Hermione nodded, and started towards the door to the staircase. Harry turned around and started
towards his own dormitory.

“Oh, and Potter,” a soft voice sounded behind him.

Harry stopped and turned around to face Hermione. “Yeah?”

“Um…thanks.” Hermione said with a small smile.

Harry returned it and said softly, “No problem.”

Once Harry was back in his dormitory laying on his back on his bed with his hands folded behind
his head, he carefully recounted all the events of the evening. He had somehow made a step forward
with Hermione tonight. He told her about getting teased himself. And had stayed by her side when
she had hurt her ankle, despite how time-consuming it had been. And his head had ached. He realized
that all the pain that he had felt earlier was completely gone now. He reached a hand to his
forehead, as if trying to find the source of the pain somehow. It wasn’t a headache, he knew that.
It was as if it would just start stinging, then stop, then start again. He ran his palm along his
forehead, but felt nothing but a thin line that was a scar he had gotten from a crash when he was a
baby. He shrugged it off, and decided to just be content that it was gone now. He rolled over on
his side, and closed his eyes, feeling a sudden fatigue.

Right, how was it? Was it worth the long wait? I know it’s not much, but it’s all I could come
up with. So please drop me a review! And thanks for reading! Oh, and don’t be shy, check out some
other stories I just posted, one is **“Take It From Me, NEVER Interview Mr. Potter”** and the
other is with my buddy, Kaci, **“Loving Him, Losing Her!”**

Until next time, ROCK ON PEACE OUT AND STAY RIGHTEOUS!!!

*~Archie~*



11. Avery's Proposition and Introductions, Take Two
---------------------------------------------------

**Hey, I’m still here! I’ve had so much going on, BUT I finally finished this chapter. I hope
it’s not disappointing! I made notes for it in a notebook a long while back, and for the last half
hour, I’ve been searching every notebook I have for those particular notes, but couldn’t find them.
So now, I’ve got a stack of notebooks sitting by my computer, notes on the whole story besides the
ones I actually need right now, so I just had to make it up the best I could. Right, now I guess
I’ll go, and PLEASE tell me what you think of this chapter. A few opportunity doors get opened, a
few characters play a more important role…what’s not to love? Lol. Thanks for all the
reviews!!!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. . .don’t get me even started on about *her*. . . I’ll rave on
and on. . .**

**Recap!**

*‘You just don’t want anyone to take the mickey out on you, Potter. You’re afraid of what
everyone will think. What’s wrong? You can only try to be her friend in private, when no one else
is watching?’*

*. She didn’t put herself in the best predicament, and could either A, suffer consequences, or
B, benefit from her actions. The Prophet would have a field day, and people may start to actually
fear her now.”*

*She could follow the footsteps her ancestors left behind, so no one is going to take the
chance of making that even a possibility. The students are scared, and when they’re scared, they’re
going to try to protect themselves. Who knows what measures they’ll resort to?”*

*Yeah, it doesn’t seem that significant, but it shows that she’s willing to take on people who
stand in her way. What do you think was His philosophy? Kill anyone who resisted.”*

*Once students caught sight of her, their hushed conversations hastily trailed into silence,
and everyone’s eyes avoided her’s.*

*“I-I-I’m so so so sorry. Please, please don’t hex me!”*

*I was always the funny-looking kid that got beat up and teased mercilessly everyday. . .”
Harry whispered softly, staring blankly at her back.*

*Hermione eyed his hand wearily, but came to the conclusion that this was the only way she was
going to get up. She grasped his hand tightly, her eyes cast downward, missing the look of pain
that crossed Harry’s face.*

*“Oh, and Potter,” a soft voice sounded behind him.*

*Harry stopped and turned around to face Hermione. “Yeah?”*

*“Um…thanks.” Hermione said with a small smile.*

*It was as if it would just start stinging, then stop, then start again. He ran his palm along
his forehead, but felt nothing but a thin line that was a scar he had gotten from a crash when he
was a baby.*

**Chapter 11: Avery’s Proposition and Introductions, Take Two**

“Did Snape keep you late last night, mate? We tried to wait up, but fell asleep. It seemed as if
you were even later than usual.” Ron asked curiously as the trio made their way to the Great
Hall.

Harry looked at his best mate’s inquiring face, before replying nonchalantly, “Yeah, I swear
that bastard doesn’t sleep. He always keeps me late when I’ve got detention with him. He was
exceptionally foul with me last night because I arrived *early*, can you believe him? First he
threatens to take points off for being late, when I was actually early that night too, and then he
keeps me late because I arrive even earlier! He is such a slimy git!”

Draco and Ron both nodded in agreement. ‘*You aren’t lying*,’ Harry told himself, *‘Just
not telling all the truth.*’ Yet, Harry still felt bad. He seemed to be telling himself that a
lot lately. He, Ron, and Draco hardly ever, only when necessary, lied to each other in all the
years they’ve been friends, so Harry felt horrible for breaking that now. ‘*It’s for the
best,*’ Harry decided, shrugging it off, though the thought of how he couldn’t keep up all this
lying forever was nagging him in the back of his mind.

Once they made their way into the Great Hall, Harry’s eyes automatically shifted to Hermione’s
spot, and widened in alarm when he saw that she wasn’t there. He swallowed uncomfortably as a
nervous and worried feeling began to settle in his stomach. Where was she? She was never *not*
here. Not even *once* this year. Harry somehow managed to sit down at his usual spot at the
Gryffindor House table, but his mind was still on why she might not be here. Was she just running a
little late? Was she purposely avoiding him after what had happened last night? Was she feeling
ill? Did something happen with her ankle? Did she get roughed up again? Harry tugged at his collar
nervously at the very thought. *‘No, she’s fine, I’m sure she’s just running a little late,’*
he tried to calm himself. He began to mechanically pile food on his plate, though he didn’t pay any
attention as to what it was, or how it tasted.

“Er. . . Mate, you alright?” A worried Draco asked, looking at him unease.

Harry, who was looking at the Great Hall doors, just nodded absently and continued to shove food
in his mouth.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Harry asked distractedly.

“Um. . . Does your breakfast taste alright?”

“It’s fine.” Harry responded inattentively, still looking at the doors, waiting for her to come
through.

“Funny, you don’t like coffee, let alone have it in your cereal.” Draco said in an amused
voice.

“What?” Harry asked, breaking his gaze from the door and looked at his bowl of cereal that sat
next to his plate of eggs. Instead of milk, he *had* used coffee. He stopped in mid-chew and
finally registered the awful taste of his food. He made a look of disgust and quickly swallow
before draining his glass of orange juice.

It was Ron’s voice this time, “What’s up, Harry? Something must be on your mind if you start
mistaking coffee for milk. . .”

“I’m fine,” Harry replied forcefully, still trying to rid his mouth of the awful taste.

There was a few minutes of silence before Draco asked again, “Harry, are you sure you’re
okay?”

Harry let out a loud sigh before making up his mind and hastily standing up, “Actually, I’ve
just realized I’ve forgotten to finish my Potions essay. I think I’ll go do that now,” and with
that, Harry rushed out of the Great Hall, leaving a very confused Draco and Ron.

Ron gave Draco a weird look before asking, “What Potions essay?”

000000

Harry sprinted up staircase after staircase, checking every corridor on the way. He skidded to a
halt in front of the Fat Lady and took a second to catch his breath before quickly telling her the
password and rushing into the Common Room. His eyes darted among the almost-empty Common Room,
searching for a bushy-haired brunette, but soon realized she wasn’t in there either. “Where are
you, dammit?” He asked under his breath, his eyes roaming over the students a second time but he
came up with the same result. He looked at the stairs leading up to the Girls’ Dormitories, before
letting out a sigh of defeat and taking a seat in a plush chair facing the dormitories. He’d just
have to wait for her to come down.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione watched the curtains sway in the morning breeze through the hangings of her four-poster
bed, last night’s events playing like a film through her mind for what felt like the twentieth time
since it happened. Why did he waste his time just to help her? Why didn’t he just leave her alone?
What did it mean? *’Absolutely nothing*!’ a voice in her head said instantly, reminding her
that he was possibly still trying to trick her into trusting him. *‘But. . .it didn’t seem as if
he was being false. . .’* Hermione thought, still feeling confused as ever. *‘It just shows
he’s human. You would help even Avery if he was in the same situation as you had been in. . .ok,
maybe not Avery, but still! And who knows? He could have just felt obligated again because he’s
Head Boy. It. Means. Nothing.’* Hermione sighed then looked at her alarm clock, before jumping
out of bed in shock. She was running late!!! Usually she was already done eating breakfast in the
Great Hall by now!

She tripped on her way down the stairs and landed with a loud *thump* at the bottom. She
heard an amused, yet relieved voice from somewhere above her, “Trying to become best mates with the
ground now, are we?” She looked up to see Harry Potter grinning at her and holding out an
outstretched hand to help her up.

Hermione gave a huff and ignored his helping hand, “*Gee*, that was real clever,
Potter.”

Harry grinned again, “I know, I’ve just got that kind of talent,” he said, winking at her.

Hermione dusted herself off and rolled her eyes, “Get over yourself.” She had a small smile on
her lips now. She bent over to pick up her book bag, only to find it no longer sitting on the
ground from her fall. “Do you see-” she stopped when she saw her book bag dangling from Harry’s
hand. “Aren’t you just quite the gentleman.” Hermione said, still grinning slightly. Their playful
banter suddenly dawned on her, and she immediately stopped grinning and snatched her book bag from
Potter’s hands. “Well, I’m, running late-”

“I’ve noticed, I didn’t see you at breakfast.”

“Yes, well, I got up late.” Hermione replied, blushing slightly. Did he really notice that she
wasn’t there? Was actually *looking* for her? *‘No, of course not!’* she thought hastily.
“Right, well, I’ve got to get to breakfast before it’s over.”

Harry smiled genuinely at her, “I’ll walk you.”

Hermione quickly shook her head, “That won’t be necessary. I’m a big girl, I tie my own sandals
and everything.” Hermione replied, remembering a line from one of her favorite Disney movies.

Harry let out a small chuckle, “Right, *Meg*, I’m sure you can. But I don’t mind, really. I
want to.”

His words rang though her mind: I *want* to. . . “Actually, I just remembered, I forgot
something in my dorm-”

Harry seemed unconcerned, “I’ll wait.”

This bloke wasn’t just going to give up was he? Thoughts of *why* he was being so
persistent clouded her brain. The imaginary bet she had made up as an excuse as to why he was
acting so friendly came to mind. Was it a bet, or was he being genuine? *‘Maybe he’s decided to
grow up and stop being such an ass’* Hermione smiled slightly at that thought. *‘Or maybe he.
. Just maybe he actually* does *want to be my friend. . .’* she thought wistfully. *‘No,
absolutely not! He’s just toying with you,’* said another voice more forcefully. Hermione felt
as if she had an angel on one shoulder, telling her to be unsuspecting, while a demon on the other,
swearing him to be deceiving. She didn’t know what to believe. “Um. . .I’m not very hungry, I think
I’m just going to head to class. I had a big dinner last night.” Hermione lied, and at that point,
her stomach gave a loud growl, countering her last statement.

Harry gave her that amused grin again, “I thought you said you forgot something in your dorm. .
.? And your stomach doesn’t seem to agree with you on skiving off breakfast.”

Hermione felt herself go red, “Er. . .yes, right, well I’ll get that thing I forgot in my dorm
later, and, well, I just don’t fancy going to breakfast right now. I’m getting weird looks from
students so I’ll just wait ‘til lunch. I don’t feel like putting up with anyone right now.” she
stammered.

Harry gave a quick glance at his watch then gave her a nod, “Right, you’re in luck that we’ve
got time.”

“Time for what?” she asked with trepidation.

Harry flashed her a mysterious grin, “That, Hermione, is what you’ll just have to find out.
Shall we?

Hermione eyed him uneasily, “Do you think I’m mad? I will *not* go. . .go. .
.*gallivanting* around the school with some. . . *git* like yourself!”

“*Gallivanting* around the school? Surely you can’t be serious! I would hardly call it
that. And this *git* just happens to be getting you some breakfast.” He looked at his watch
again, “Well, maybe, but we have to go now or we won’t have time!”

“But-”

“Come on, think about it on the way, otherwise we won’t have time, and I’m hungry!”

Hermione bit her lip, should she trust him*? ‘It’s just to get some food. . .’* said the
logical part of her brain, but there was another voice telling her it was a wrong move to make. It
may seem insignificant, but it’s a sign of giving in. Also, he could just be having her on. This
could just be some scheme to make her think he wants her to be his friend so he could humiliate her
in front of everyone*. ‘He stood up for me when Cho was being nasty. . .’* Hermione thought,
defending Potter’s intentions. Before she could think anymore on that subject, she felt someone
grab her hand and pull her out of the Common Room. She looked ahead of her and saw that Harry was
dragging her down the corridor.

“Harry Potter, let go of me this instant!” she almost yelled shrilly, looking appalled at his
actions.

Harry immediately let go before rounding on her and saying, “Well, we can’t wait for the grass
to grow. I know you’re wary of me, you have every right to be, but I swear to you I’m not dragging
you into some twisted situation. You’re hungry, you don’t want to go to the Great Hall, so we’re
getting food, now *please* just trust me on this.” He gave her a pleading look.

Hermione stood there for a second before feeling her hunger pains increase at the prospect of
food, “Okay. . .,” she said slowly, “Let’s go, but you better not try and humiliate me or something
stupid like that, Potter, or I swear I will hex you until you’re unrecognizable.” she warned him,
giving him a slight glare.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*I watched the proverbial sunrise
Coming up over the Pacific and
You might think I'm losing my mind,
But I will shy away from the specifics...

'Cause I don't want you to know where I am
'Cause then you'll see my heart
In the saddest state it's ever been.

This is no place to try and live my life.*

*I talk to absolutely no one.
Couldn't keep to myself enough.
And the things bottled inside have finally begun
To create so much pressure that I’ll soon blow up.

I heard the reverberating footsteps
Sinking up to the beating of my heart,
And I was positive that unless I got myself together,
I would watch me fall apart.*

*“Who I Am Hates Who I’ve Been” RELIENT K*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry looked into her glaring eyes, and saw something else. It took him a second to recognize
what it was, but when he did, he immediately hated himself. It was pleading, something he didn’t
like to associate at all with Hermione. Underneath all the glaring, she was begging him to be
trustworthy. And he felt a pang in his heart just knowing the fact that Hermione was suspecting,
almost waiting, for him to do something scornful towards her. Shame filled his insides and his
intestines felt as if they were being squeezed and knotted together.

“Hermione, I know I’ve been a right jerk to you, and *please* believe me when I say I’m
sorry. I am so ashamed of my actions. You are such a great girl, and I had no right to treat you
like that. I am so-”

Hermione cut him off saying, “Are we going to get something to eat or not?” Her eyes turned
cold, and Harry saw the pleading was gone, hidden behind whatever it was she used to guard herself
from getting hurt.

He sighed. He really needed to get this out. “Hermione, I really am sorry. I just want you
to-”

“Forget it, it’s too late anyway. See you in class, Potter,” and before Harry could take in what
was going on, he felt her shove passed him and out of sight.

He leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes while disappointment flooded his insides. Too
late? Too late for what? Hopefully she was just talking about eating breakfast and not a friendship
between them. He sighed, “Potter, you have been such a bloody *asshole*. . .”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*Stop right there. That's exactly where I lost it.
See that line. Well I never should have crossed it.
Stop right there. Well I never should have said
That it's the very moment that
I wish that I could take back.

I'm sorry for the person I became.
I'm sorry that it took so long for me to change.
I'm ready to try and never become that way again
'Cause who I am hates who I've been.
Who I am hates who I've been.*

*“Who I Am Hates Who I’ve Been” RELIENT K*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione knew Potter was trying to catch her eye during classes, but she ignored him. His words
from earlier still repeated themselves in her mind, over and over. Was he *really* sorry? Did
she *want* him to apologize? An apology wouldn’t be enough. He’d need to prove it. And perhaps
that is what he was trying to do. She supposed that may be why he was acting so differently. Maybe
he *did* realize how much of a prat he had been. But even as these thought reverberated in her
mind, she didn’t want to believe them. She had grown accustomed to him acting like an ass, that she
almost didn’t want him to change. She didn’t know how to accept it. She didn’t know *how* to
be a friend. It wasn’t familiar to her. Having a friend that was her age was such a new concept,
that she was slightly frightened at the very prospect of it.

Since when did she think of him as a friend? This morning she had completely blown him off, and
now she’s considering him as being a possible future friend? *This* was why she avoided
thinking about this. It was so bloody confusing that she’d rather just be ignorant of him. It was
much easier to think of him as a rival rather than a friend. She knew how to handle enemies, but
not friends. Nevertheless she desperately wanted a friend, more than anything. A sudden thought
struck her, what if she made a bad friend?

Hermione sighed, “Just ignore him, Hermione, and he might just give up.” She closed her eyes and
leaned against the cool stone of the wall. She was currently hiding from him, as well as everyone
else, in an empty corridor. Things were still weird around everyone. No one would look at her. She
was getting the same treatment she had gotten the day before. She seemed to be invisible to
everyone, and when someone *did* acknowledge her, it was almost as if they actually
*feared* her, which made Hermione laugh. She got up and dusted the seat of her robes off,
before making her way down the corridor. She came to an intersection, and made a left, which would
lead her to her next class, it was rather early, but she didn’t mind. She could read over the
lesson while waiting.

“Oy, Granger, why don’t you come back here for a second? I fancy a nice chat with you.”

Hermione immediately recognized the cold voice as John Avery’s. She turned around to see him and
his gang making their way in her direction. Her hand instantly went into the pocket of her robes
and gripped her wand, ready to counter their attack if needed. She tried to keep a cool head
because she was in dangerous waters already for hexing those two students.

“What do you want, Avery?” she asked harshly, her eyes flashing with anger as she remembered how
they had beat her in that corridor weeks ago.

He gave her a smirk, but it wasn’t his usual trademark arrogant one, but rather a sincere smirk,
well as sincere as it could get anyway. His blue eyes held a gleam she had never seen before. He
looked at his friends and commanded quietly, “Get lost.” As soon as he spoke the words, they
vanished from his side instantly, forming a group down the corridor. Hermione was slightly in awe
at the command he had over people.

Hermione pulled her wand out slowly, her eyes showing no mercy, “I’ll fight you, Avery. You
won’t get me like you did last time.”

Avery held his hands up, showing he had no intention to harm her. “I’m not here to hurt you.
See? No wand, no mates. I just want to talk.”

Hermione gave a scathing laugh, “Right, and what next, going to tell me you’re transferring into
Hufflepuff House?!?!” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

He smirked at her again, that same sincere smirk as before, “I have no inclination of joining
those fools, what do you take me for? I just wanted to tell you well done for hexing your
housemates, I didn’t know you had it in you, otherwise, things would have turned out quite
differently. In fact, they still can.” His eyes flashed and his tone betrayed his heavy interest he
was trying to conceal. He licked his lips in anticipation. “You could easily turn into the next
Dark Lord. With your abilities and ancestry, I know you would make a great leader. You have the
make of being the next Him. I can help you. I can help you be more powerful than you ever thought
possible. My family would take you in and teach you things you could never even dream of.”

Hermione looked at him incredulously, “*What?* Do you know what you’re even *saying*?
You do realize you’re talking to *me*, right?” What was going on?

He chuckled, “Of course I know I’m talking to you.” His face suddenly became serious, “Join me,
Hermione, and you will be protected. *I* will personally make sure no one ever hurts you
again. You will have so many loyal supporters.” He closed his eyes in happiness at the very thought
of it.

“Are you bloody mad? Why on earth would I join you? And the only person I need protection from
is you and your posse, which I can provide myself.” Hermione said hotly, not quite sure what he was
talking about when he said loyal supporters, but she didn’t like it too well. What was he even
*talking* about?

He stepped forward, backing her up against a nearby wall. His face was merely inches from hers.
She could smell the cologne he used and it fogged her sense. His eyes were gleaming with
excitement. “I’m sorry about that, Hermione. I’m sorry for not seeing your potential before. But
you could be so great. . .” He ran his hand along her cheek and she turned away from his cold
touch, shivering from the chills it gave her. She could feel his hot breath on her ear, “Close your
eyes.” His voice was soft and commanding, and as if on their own accord, her eyes fluttered shut.
He smiled at the power he had over her. “Think about it, Hermione. You would be loved by so many.
Picture your loyal band of followers kneeling at your feet. Imagine *your mark* being branded
on the very *skin* of others.

“Revenge is a gratifying, Hermione. Visualize having the power and advocates to do your bidding.
They will torture all those that don’t wield to your command. Bloodshed being the price for defying
you. You. You would be able to mercilessly take control over the Wizarding World. Imagine
destroying anyone that stood in your way to power.” His hand rested under her chin, turning her
head so she could look at him. Her eyes slowly opened, hypnotized by his blue pools. His hand came
up to caress her cheek. Once again, she shivered at his cold touch. “Think about it, Hermione. Take
my friendship; let me lead you. Hermione, you won’t regret it,” and with that, he was gone.

Hermione watched his retreating back, slightly breathless, as he made his way back to his gang.
What was he talking about? What had even brought that on? She brought her hand up to her cheek,
where he had touched her. She closed her eyes and leaned against the stone wall.

Her mind tried to process everything that had just happened. She had the make of the next Dark
Lord? What did that mean? Why did she have that kind of charisma? What made her so special that
made her next in line? Who was the last Dark Lord? How long had it been since him or her? And more
importantly, what had happened to them? And what kind of followers was he talking about? Trading
people’s lives for power? Who would do that sort of thing?

A dreamy voice broke her from her thoughts, “What are you going to do?”

Hermione jumped and looked around until she spotted a girl with dirty blonde hair looking at her
through misty blue eyes. She had a magazine in one hand, and the other was lifelessly at her side.
Hermione recognized her as a Sixth Year Ravenclaw, Luna Lovegood.

Hermione looked taken aback, “Er. . .excuse me?” She asked, slightly confused at what the girl
was asking.

Luna came closer to peer at Hermione, her face expressionless, “What. Are. You. Going. To. Do.”
she repeated each word slowly.

“About what?” Hermione asked, still uncomprehending.

Luna finally showed a hint of emotion and said with slight exasperation, “About Jonathan! I
overheard you two talking! Are. . . Are you going to join him?”

Hermione looked at the girl, her eyebrows raised. Join him? The idea was preposterous. Did he
think she was mental? Her turn into a Dark Lord? He must have been mad! She didn’t want people to
love her. She didn’t want loyal supporters to do her bidding. She didn’t want to be feared.

Revenge. Revenge on those who hurt her. Retribution on the students that made fun of her. Her
old Muggle classmates that made her days a Living Hell. Vengeance. . .it had such a terribly sweet
and satisfying sound to it. A righteously cruel justice. A sudden desire to retaliate filled her
whole being, leaving no room for logical thinking. Avery’s words echoed in her brain, sounding
innocently wicked t her raw mind. It would serve them all right; they asked for it.

Luna’s voice pulled her from her wicked and evil thinking, “Hermione!” Her voice had an urgent
tone to it. Hermione’s eyes snapped open and looked at the younger girl, and evil glint in her eye,
which made Luna look slightly fearful. “It. . .it’s not worth it,” she said softly, as if reading
Hermione’s very thoughts.

Hermione’s eyes narrowed dangerously, “Not worth it?” Tears threatened to sting at the corners
of her eyes. “You don’t know what it’s like to be so segregated and looked down upon! You don’t
know what it’s like, so don’t tell me it’s not worth it!” Hermione said, her shaking voice barely
above a whisper.

Luna’s face was expressionless again. She took a step towards Hermione, her wide blue eyes
holding Hermione’s hate-filled gaze. After a long silence, the girl said in a soft, unhelpful
voice, “You’re crying.”

Hermione hastily dried her eyes before retorting, “No, I’m not. Just. . . Bloody well leave me
alone you silly girl.”

Luna looked unconcerned and sympathetic, “You’re a brave girl. It’s okay to cry. Don’t be
ashamed of it.” Hermione just looked away, not wanting to look into her blue eyes any longer. She
heard Luna give a soft sigh and felt a feather light touch on her shoulder. “I cry sometimes; I use
to cry all the time.”

Hermione looked at the girl quizzically, “Why did you cry?”

Luna replied faintly, “My mum died when I was nine.”

Hermione’s anger towards the girl vanished instantly, “What happened?”

Luna looked away guiltily, “She was a brilliant witch; potion brewing was her specialty. One
day, I had wanted to go to Diagon Alley to spend my birthday money and she said she would take me
once her potion was done. She even let me help.” Luna paused for a second, closing her eyes as the
pain resurfaced in her heart, “There were so many different ingredients and viles with so many
different concoctions in them. I. . .I didn’t know. . .I was only nine. I was too short to reach
the right one, the one she asked me to get from the shelf. I really wanted to go to Diagon Alley,
so instead of getting a step ladder to reach it, I grabbed another vile that looked the same that
was in my reach. . . I gave it to Mum, and not thirty seconds after it was added, the potion blew
up. She got covered in it. . . It killed her. . .” A lone tear journeyed down Luna’s cheek as she
finished the story. She looked at Hermione, a mad gleam in her eye, “I loved her so much! I never
meant for it to happen. . .I just. . .”

Hermione didn’t know what to say. She never would have even guessed that Luna had such a tragic
past. “How. . . How did your father take it?” she asked tentatively, hoping it was the right thing
to say.

“He pushed himself towards his work. He tried to hide his feelings for my sake, but in the end,
it caught up with him. He went through a devastating depression. We’re both still sad about it, but
together, we make an excellent team. I help him with *The Quibbler* during the summer. Things
are smooth as ever since her death,” Suddenly her tone changed from soft and far away to urgent
again. “Keeping all this bottled up like me and my father will only end with something bad.”

It took Hermione a second to realize she was talking about her. Shamefully, Hermione looked
away.

“Dark Arts aren’t an escape, Hermione.” she gave a soft chuckle. “Dark Arts have the power to
rope you in and bind you to wield their every whim. At first it may seem exciting and reckless. It
feels good to cause others even a quarter of the despair that courses through your veins. . .” he
eyes held a dreamy, far away gleam to them. Then, suddenly, her eyes narrowed and darkened with
anger, “But it’s a poison, Hermione! It’s the sweetest poison one could take. Just a small dose is
instantly addicting. It will end in despair.” Guilt tinged her voice as she continued to speak,
“The evilness corrupts you like venom and there isn’t an easy antidote. The wicked addiction takes
over you mind and controls your actions.”

Hermione’s eyes were wide in shock from Luna’s words that now hung in the tense air. How did
Luna know all this? She couldn’t unless. . .comprehension dawned on Hermione. Luna refused to meet
her gaze. “You resorted to Dark Arts, after you’re mum died and you’re father went into a
depression,” Hermione stated quietly, watching Luna’s cheek tinge pink.

Luna raised her head, her eyes watery, “It’s not something I’m proud of, Hermioe. I don’t want
you to make the same mistake. Jonathan is bad news, believe me when I say this. Please promise me
you’ll stay away from him.”

Hermione stared at the girl, not sure if she should promise or not. His proposition sounded as
tempting as a glass of ice water when in a desert.

“Hermione!” Luna said urgently, gripping her shoulder in earnest. “He could mold you into
someone dangerous, Hermione, you must understand this.”

Hermione heard a warning bell sound somewhere, telling them they needed to head to their class
soon. Hermione looked at the begging girl one last time, “Thanks, Luna. I appreciate your concern.
You’ve helped me a lot,” and with that, Hermione turned around and left.

She heard Luna holler desperately after her, “Promise me, Hermione!” but instead, Hermione just
kept walking.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry looked up to see Draco’s gaze on him. Harry looked back down at his lunch. They hadn’t
spoken much since earlier this morning. Harry didn’t mention anything more on the imaginary Potions
essay, and they didn’t ask. But Harry could tell they were restraining themselves from barging him
with questions. He looked up again to see Draco still watching him. His eyes on him began to make
Harry feel uncomfortable. Finally, he broke the silence, hoping it would make Draco look elsewhere,
“So. . .how are those Quidditch teams?” He asked lamely, not sure what to even say.

Both Draco and Ron gave him pointed looks. Ron’s raised an eyebrow, “Which Quidditch team?” His
voice was skeptical.

Harry shrugged, “I dunno, pick one. I hear the Cannons won their last game.”

Draco shook his head, “They’ve lost their last two games. We even talked about it for a whole
week last time. . .”

Harry thought hard for a second before remembering the conversation they had had just two weeks
ago. “Right, I must have forgotten, sorry about that.”

“What’s got you so distracted?” Draco asked, crossing his arms in front of his check.

Harry just gave a shrug and forced a scoff, “What are you talking about? I’m not distracted, I
just forgot something, big deal.”

Draco watched Harry with a stony gaze. Harry could tell that Draco was angry, but at the moment,
so was he. He knew his friends wanted answers, but right now, he just wasn’t read to give them.

Ron looked between the two and piped up, “Harry, we know something is definitely going on and
you know we’ll find out eventually, so you might as well jus stop wasting time an tell us!” Harry
noticed his clipped tone.

Harry narrowed his eyes, “Look, if I had a problem and wanted you guys to know about it, I would
have told you, ok? I don’t have to let you guys know about everything that goes on in my life,
dammit. For right now, please for fuck’s sake, just lay off!” and with those last words, Harry
angrily grabbed his bag and exited the Great Hall, leaving his friends fuming as well for a second
time that day. Harry wasn’t sure why he was angry. If the situation was in reverse, he knew he’d
try to pry into what was making one of his mates act so edgy. But still, he wished they would just
let him sort this out on his own for right now.

While Harry rushed aimlessly through the corridors, he knocked into another student.

He hastily began to apologize to the girl before hearing her saying his name in desperation.

“*Harry*!”

Harry looked over at her and was met with a pair of big, misty blue eyes. “Luna, something
wrong?” He asked slightly worriedly, noticing her eyes were slightly red. He wasn’t really in the
mood to talk to anyone, but she was sort of a friend of his, and he didn’t want to just blow her
off. He began picking up his things, praying that things were fine so he could get away.

“It’s Hermione!”

At the mention of Hermione’s name, Harry instantly snapped to attention. “What? What’s wrong
with her? Is she hurt?” Worry immediately clouded his green eyes.

Luna shook her head, “No, but she could be heading for trouble. Jonathan Avery is interested in
becoming friends with her, and is hoping to turn her on to Dark Arts.” She said desperately,
knowing that Harry would know what to do.

“*What*? How do you know this?” Harry asked, bewildered at the very prospect of it.

“I just heard them! Then I talked to her, but she wouldn’t promise me that she wouldn’t go down
that path. I told her how dangerous it was, but she just said thanks and walked away. He asked her
to join him and promised her that she’d have loyal supporters and would be loved. He mentioned the
Mark, and her being a Dark Lord. . .” Luna trailed off, trying to recall everything that had been
said.

Harry had heard enough. *‘That damned John Avery’* he thought furiously, knowing this was
exactly something that bastard would do. He looked down at the girl’s fearful eyes, feeling anger
course though his veins like poison. “Thanks for telling me this, Luna. I’ve got detention with her
tonight, I’ll try and see what I can do. Don’t. . . Don’t worry, things will be fine. I’ll take
care of this.”

Luna nodded her head numbly in response. Harry nodded back before quickly rushing off down the
corridor.

Harry wasn’t sure where to go, so he just found the nearest door, which happened to lead into
the lavatory. He huffed his way in there, his temper still fuming. It was fortunately empty. He
angrily tossed his book bag aside, not really caring where it landed, before pacing fiercely in
front of the sinks. His mind was clouded with annoyance, though he wasn’t sure why. He took a deep
breath, trying to calm himself down before stopping in front of the mirror, his hands gripping the
sides of the sink until his knuckles were white. “Calm down,” he said quietly to his reflection
before closing his eyes. But suddenly, he felt a jolt of anger shoot through him and before he
could stop to think about what he was doing, Harry slammed his fist into the mirror, making glass
shatter in all directions.

“*Fuck*!” he cursed as a sharp pain shot through his hand. He leaned back against the
nearest wall, and slowly slide to the ground, trying to control his breathing. “Calm down, Potter,”
he repeated breathlessly, slightly shocked at his outburst. He just sat there for a minute, trying
to clear his head, until he was satisfied that he had calmed down. He slowly stood, feeling
slightly disoriented at the head rush. His temper gave a nasty throb, which made him groan softly.
Harry surveyed the mess he had made, slightly ashamed, before reaching for his wand and muttering,
“*Reparo*.” The glass suddenly flew back into the mirror frame, repaired. Next, he cleaned the
blood off his hand, using water from the tap, before splaying water on the heated skin of his face
a few times.

The bell sounded, letting him know he was late for his first afternoon class. He didn’t care.
Instead, he tried to piece together everything Luna had told him. He had faith in Hermione. She was
too pure and innocent to turn to Dark Arts. But he also knew how persuasive Avery could be. “That
bastard!” he muttered under his breath. Of course something like this had to happen just as we
started making any headway with her. He really needed to sort all this out. Should he confront her
and tell her how Avery was bad news? Would she even go for it? She loathed Avery with a passion,
surely she would just brush him off. But the conversation he had had with Draco at lunch came to
his head again.

He had told him that Hermione may have wanted revenge, that she had probably mapped out some
secret fantasy about retribution. He took a deep breath. He had to talk to her tonight, that’s all
there was to it. He’d just have to add this to the list of things he needed to discuss with her. He
had gotten so close this morning, but she wouldn’t hear of it. He’d just have to get her to listen
somehow. Harry glanced at his wristwatch then cursed under his breath, he was already fifteen
minutes late for Double Defense Against The Dark Arts. He grabbed his book bag and sprinted to
Sirius’s classroom, thanking every God he could think of for not making this Double Potions he was
this late for.

He skidded to a halt, smoothed out his appearance, then quietly opened the door. Everyone turned
around to look at him. Sirius gave him a pointed look, “Mr. Potter, Moaning Myrtle keep you late
*again*,” he asked smoothly, his voice full of mirth. The class laughed at his joke, but Harry
just rolled his eyes. “Sit down before I give you two months worth of detention.” Once again, this
earned a laugh. Everyone knew Professor Black never handed out detentions, and being a former
troublemaker himself, he usually turned the other cheek, or even gave the troublemakers pointers,
when mischief was being conducted.

Harry quickly sat down and got out his notes like the rest of the class had already done.

0000000000000000

Harry speedily ate his dinner, not saying a word to Draco or Ron the whole time. He just wanted
to get done so he could serve his detention for Snape, and more importantly, talk with Hermione. He
said a quick goodbye and rushed out of the Great Hall.

He started down the corridor when he felt someone grab him from behind. He was spun around and
came face to face with Draco. Draco gave him a hard look, “We’re talking, Potter. How you’re acting
is bullshit. Now tell me what the fuck is going on.”

Harry pushed him away and sighed, “Look, mate, I really-”

Draco’s eyes flashed, “Don’t you *‘Look, mate’* me, Potter. I’m sick of this charade. Tell
me what’s going on.” Draco’s voice softened in the end. Harry sighed again.

“Does. . . Does this have anything to do with Granger?” Draco asked, slightly wary.

Harry stood still for a second before running a nervous hand through his raven hair. “It has
*everything* to do with her, mate.”

Draco nodded as if he had already known the answer to that question. “So, what about her?” Draco
asked.

Harry shrugged, “That’s what I’m still trying to figure out. She has detention with me, or
*I* have detention with *her*, I guess. I’ve been trying to get her to talk to me, so I
went to Sirius for advice, so he purposely made sure I was in detention with her,” Harry said
tonelessly, looking at a spot above Draco’s head.

“And?”

“And what?”

“I want to know everything that’s been going on. I know that isn’t the whole story.”

Harry laughed, “The whole story? I don’t think I’ve got that kind of time right now,” he said,
looking down at his watch.

“Give me the short story then.”

Harry thought for a second before nodding slowly. He knew he was going to get nagged until he
told him anyway. Plus, if all went well, Hermione might become a new friend to both Draco and
Ron.

Harry quickly summarized everything that had happened, not spending too much time in going into
detail. He told Draco about detention and the night before. He even mentioned to him about Avery’s
proposition and everything Luna had told him.

Draco just listened the whole time, nodding every once in awhile.

“Look, if things go right tonight, I’m going to introduce her to you guys tomorrow as friends.
Tell Ron that. We can go into detail about this later. That’s all you need to know for now. I don’t
want to be late, that bastard will just keep us even later than usual.

Draco nodded, and Harry was about to turn away when Draco said icily, “Potter, I don’t like
this. I think you should just leave well enough alone. She’s. . .she’s a *Granger*. . .”

Harry retorted coldly, “She’s a girl that needs a friend,” and with that, he left.

0000

Harry waited outside the Potions classroom for Hermione again, a little nervous about how he was
going to bring anything up. He didn’t have to wait long. Not even five minutes later did she grace
him with her presence. “Hello, Hermione,” he greeted her cheerfully.

Her cheeks tinged pink but she replied a soft, “Hi,” in return, remembering the events from that
morning.

They trudged into the classroom, letting Snape know they were there. They then went into the
storeroom, the fumes immediately making them choke, but it wasn’t as bad as before. Harry was about
to close the door when Snape’s hand stopped him, and he followed them in there. “I think I’ll sit
in on this one,” he sneered.

Harry looked daggers at him. As long as he was in here, they wouldn’t be able to talk. Harry
noticed that Hermione almost looked relieved that Snape stayed.

Detention seemed to drag on, with Snape acting like a drill sergeant to them, especially towards
Harry. He made Harry put in much more hard work than was necessary. Because of the heat, Harry had
rolled his sleeves up, which turned out to be a bad idea because he slipped and got a nasty cut on
his forearm from a large, jagged piece of broken glass. When Snape saw this, he just smirked and
said he was not going to heal him and that he shouldn’t be so clumsy. Harry just forced a tight
smile and replied back a polite, “Of course, Sir,” though he had a sneaking suspicion that he had
something to do with Harry’s fall. He was sure there wasn’t spilled potion on that spot even five
minutes before hand. So he lugged heavy crates and cauldrons around the room with a stream of
scarlet blood oozing from his forearm, dying his white shirt and covering his hand. He pushed
himself to vent all his confusion and anger into his work. Swear began to soak through his shirt,
making it stick to his skin. His face and neck were also slick with perspiration. But he still kept
working, acting as if wasn’t nearly as sore as he really was. His sour mood was suddenly boosted
when he thought he saw Hermione give him a look of pity.

After hours of silence, other than Snape’s instructions, and hard work, he let them leave. Harry
felt more sore than he had all year, and that was even counting conditioning for Quidditch. His arm
throbbed and his head ached, but still, he tried to put up a cheerful front as he walked back to
the Common Room with Hermione, glad that night of torture was finally over.

“That was fun, wasn’t it?” Harry asked with a smile, pushing he sweaty black hair out of his
face, thankful for the coolness of the corridors.

Hermione just gave him a look, “He *hates* you.” she informed him, slightly alarmed.

Harry just grinned, “Yep, it’s a hate/hate relationship, and I’m proud of it!”

Hermione just laughed. They were silent the rest of the way up to the Tower. Harry busied
himself with trying to clean the dried blood from his harm, and more importantly, he planned out
the basic layout of how he wanted their conversation to go.

All too soon they seemed to be telling the Fat Lady the password.

Hermione immediately made a beeline through the empty Common Room towards the Girls’ Staircase,
but Harry stopped her.

“Hermione, wait!”

She stopped for a second, keeping her back to him and asked in a voice that was barely audible,
“Yes?”

Harry wet his lips before continuing in a soft voice, “Can. . . Can we talk? I mean really try
and sort this out? Please?” He asked her pleadingly, hoping with baited breath that she’d say
yes.

She sighed and turned around to face him, “Harry, it’s late-”

But Harry cut her off, “Just give me a few minutes, Hermione. I really need to get this off my
chest. Please?” He asked her desperately, heading towards the couch and waving his hand for her to
join him.

Hermione looked as if she was fighting an internal battle.

“Please?” Harry asked softly again.

That must have won her over because she nodded in defeat. “Not. . . Just a few minutes, okay?
It’s already late.”

Harry quickly nodded his head in agreement, happy that she would give him at least just a few
minutes. She came closer and sat down on the couch, watching the dying embers in the fireplace.
Harry could sense that she was nervous, Hell, he was nervous too!

Harry wasn’t sure how to start. Everything he had planned to say rushed from his brain. He knew
he must have looked stupid, just standing there. Finally, after a moment of silence, he began in a
weak voice, “I. . .I know I’ve acted like a complete jerk to you, Hermione. I can’t take that back.
I wish I could though. I wish I could just redo everything since the moment I met you. You‘re a
nice person, and I was just. . . *blinded* by what I thought others wanted of me to see that.
I refused to see it. I wanted to hate you, to loath you. I wanted to be able to pick fights with
you and not feel like a complete prick once it was over. . .

“But I couldn’t, and I hated that. I hated that I felt so goddamn guilty, and then I began to
ask myself why. Why do I feel this way. . .?” He was silent for a second before continuing, “Then I
realized how wrong I was. I mean, from what I’ve seen, you are such a great girl. You study hard
and are the top student of every class. I like how you take a First Year course, the Flying
Lessons, despite what people say about it. You do it because you want to learn how to fly, even
though you’re terrified of heights. Oh! And how you help out the First Years in the Library with
their homework. You take the time to make sure they understand it. Most of all, I like how you’ve
got this. . .this. . . *never wavering spirit* and you’re such a courageous person. . .”

Hermione was blushing now, “. . .You know I’m afraid of heights?” she asked in a small voice,
slightly disbelieving at how he knew.

It took Harry a second to realized what she was talking about before giving her a small smile,
“Yeah, I’ve seen your Flying Lessons.” He let out a quiet chuckle, “You’re a downright terrible
flyer,” he informed her with a slight smile.

She gave a tiny, wistful smile before looking down at her shoes and began playing with the hem
of her robes with nimble fingers.

There was a moment of silence before Harry’s face grew serious again. “I’m sorry, Hermione. I am
so bloody fucking sorry for how I’ve treated you. I don’t care about our families’ history. I just.
. .I just want us to be friends. I want us to walk down the corridor together and laugh and joke
around. I want us to go to Hogsmeade together and act as immature as we can.” He watched as
Hermione smiled softly at that.

He slowly got off the couch and got down on his knees in front of her, taking her hands in his.
He felt a sudden sting of his forehead from the contact, but brushed it off. “Hermione. . .” he
whispered softly, “I want to be your friend so badly. I want to know your secrets and fears, what
makes you happy and sad, your deepest desires. I want to celebrate your triumphs and laugh with you
at your mistakes. I want us to be friends, Hermione. Please?” He watched a few tears leaked from
her eyes, and slowly wiped them away with his thumb. He could feel that his face was wet as well
from trying to prove to her how desperate and true he was.

He felt her hands shake slightly in his. “Harry. . .I. . .I don’t know what to say,” she said
softly, and Harry could tell she was thinking things over.

“Say yes, Hermione,” his voice was hoarse now from nervousness. “Say we can start things over
and be friends.”

“Do you know what people will think of you? Do you know how much people will hate you?” she
asked seriously, trying to let him know what he was getting into.

Harry nodded, “I don’t care about what they think of me, Hermione, don’t you get that? I care
about what you think of me, dammit!” He was pleading again.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*When I made up my mind
And my heart along with that
To live not for myself
But yet for God, somebody said
Do you know what you are getting yourself into

When I finally ironed out
All of my priorities
And asked God to remove the doubt
That makes me so unsure of these
Things I ask myself, I ask myself
Do you know what you are getting yourself into

I'm getting into you
Because you got to me, in a way words can't describe
I'm getting into you
Because I've got to be
You're essential to survive
I'm going to love you with my life*

*“Getting Into You” RELIENT K*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione still eyed him uneasily.

“What do you say, Hermione, can we give this another go? Will you forgive me?

Can we restart this whole thing?” Harry asked.

There was a silence, and every second of it was killing Harry. Her face was unreadable. What if
she said no? What if she could never forgive him? Finally, she pushed him aside and stood, making
him fall backwards. His heart sunk as he quickly stood as well, nervously running a hand though his
hair. He held his breath.

Hermione just stared at him, as if she was looking into his very soul.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione bit her lip as his words echoed through her mind. Should she trust him? Should she take
his friendship? What if he was just still having her on? He looked so desperate though. Why would
someone want to know her so well? What could he possibly gain? He would be looked down upon,
Hermione knew this.

She thought over the last day’s events. It seemed as if so much had transpired over the last
twenty-four hours. Last night, Harry had helped her out with her ankle, risking getting himself
into even more trouble for being out after hours with her. Today, he was waiting for her when she
came downstairs, offering to escort her to a private breakfast. Then there was Avery. What would
Harry say if he found out what she and Avery had talked about? Hermione knew they couldn’t stand
each other. And Luna’s warning. Hermione couldn’t bring herself to promise Luna not to take Avery
up on his offer, though she dreaded the very thought, there was a dangerous appeal to if for some
odd reason. Did that make her a bad person? Would Harry still want to be her friend if he had
known?

Hermione looked into his pleading, emerald eyes and felt herself soften. He looked so bloody
convincing!

He spoke her name softly, questioningly, “. . .Hermione?”

“Harry, I. . .” she began, bust stopped.

His big eyes started at her, almost in tears.

She looked down shyly, then slowly stuck out her hand, making up her mind, “I’m Hermione
Granger, and you are?” she asked timidly, hoping he would catch on and not think she had gone
mad.

Harry looked confused for a second before breaking out into a huge grin, “Pleasure to meet you,
Hermione Granger. I’m Harry Potter.” He said, shaking her hand lightly.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*It has to start somewhere*

*It has to start sometime*

*What better place than here*

*What better time than now*

*All Hell can’t stop us now*

*“Guerrilla Radio” RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE*

**And so it begins!!! So once again, I’m so bloody sorry for the long wait. I have been working
my ass off on this chapter this last week though, writing then revising and typing and more
revising…BUT it’s out, so I’m happy. Right, I’m not sure how I feel about this chapter, so please
tell me what you guys think, it would really mean a lot! I’ve got a new story out, Gone Away, if
you’re interested in checking it out. I just posted the first chapter last week or so, I’m not
sure, lol. I hope not to wait TOO long before I update on this one. Thanks for reading and
remember, REVIEW!**

**Oh, and Happy Saint Patrick’s Day! It’s my new favorite holiday, I wanna be IRISH!!!
Lol!**

***~Archie~***



12. A New Beginning
-------------------

**Hey guy, I know, I’ve taken my sweet little time to write this up, and I am sorry. I’ve got
to get to bed soon, should have been in bed twenty minutes ago actually, but I really wanted to
post this tonight! I’ll shut up now. I’m skipping the recap because I just don’t have time for it,
so just check back in the last chapter to refresh your memory! I’m so sorry for the wait, but
something happened with my best friend and it has had me all tore up. But, on a more positive note,
I FINALLY updated, so that’s good then! I had it finished last night, but the Portkey thing was
down and I couldn’t get to my Control Panel (I’m guessing it was down anyway. . .) but I just got
back from the store and am pretty happy about buying a new cd and getting a few others from my
brother, so I am SO pumped to post!!! Haha!**

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. By the way, I used an allusion (ha, my English teacher would be
proud!) in the last chapter about Hercules, about Hermione tying her own sandals and everything.
Just wanted to point that out. That line does not belong to me, blah blah blah.**

**Dedication: This chapter is especially dedicated to elphie84 because of her support in
reviews and how they reviewed a few times, telling me to get my but motivated, I actually really
started getting serious after your last review! Thanks!**

**Chapter 12: A New Beginning**

*The dawn is breaking*

*A light shining through*

*You're barely waking*

*And I'm tangled up in you*

*Yeah*

*I'm open, you're closed*

*Where I follow, you'll go*

*I worry I won't see your face*

*Light up again*

*Even the best fall down sometimes*

*Even the wrong words seem to rhyme*

*Out of the doubt that fills my mind*

*I somehow find*

*You and I collide*

*“Collide” HOWIE DAY*


**+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++**

Hermione felt nervous. After her conversation with Potter-- no, *Harry*-- last night, she
felt as if she had taken a dive in a pool full of mixed emotions. She feared it was just a joke, or
that Harry would be scared off by what others would say. Hermione was still utterly confused as to
exactly *why* this was happening, *why* someone would care enough for her. There was
sadness because it had taken so long. She was afraid because she didn’t know *how* to be a
good friend. What if Pott-- *Harry*-- just laughed at her attempts and told her it was a
mistake, and that she really needed to take a crash course on friendship and how to be a decent
friend. But among all these rather negative mixed feelings that were swimming inside of her,
happiness was there too, as well as hope and excitement. Hope for this to be a good thing that
would work out, and she was excited about starting something new, something she’s never had.
Hermione wasn’t aware that is was possible to feel so much at once without exploding!

Another thought that nagged Hermione was what type of friends were they? They hadn’t made any
specifics last night. Were they the type that acknowledged one another with a polite, “Hello, how
have you been?” in the corridors or in classes when they crossed each other’s path and that what
the end of it? Where they were barely more than mere acquaintances and had a shallow, but still
existing, friendship. Or did it extend to occasionally sitting and joking around with each other,
*possibly* seeking the other one our when they had a trivial problem. Or. . .were they the
best-friend type? The kind she’d read about in books sometimes. The ones that were around each
other constantly and had each other’s back completely. The ones that sat up late, simply talking
for the sake of just being in each other’s company. And when they finally *did* go to bed,
they weren’t worried because they knew the other one would be there for them tomorrow, and the next
day, and even the day after that. They would be there to share secrets with and help each other
out. They would be there to help solve problems and wait through even the strongest and scariest
storms with you. The type of friendship Hermione had yearned for all her life. Where were the
boundaries?

Hermione let out a sigh as she stepped out of her bathroom, ready to get dressed for classes.
‘*Friendship* really *needed to come with a manual,’* she decided as she began pulling
her black robes over her uniform. She really needed to know exactly where things stood between the
two of them.

She thought back to his words just the night in his beautiful apology. He had mentioned
something about wanting to go to Hogsmeade together and just walking down the hall, side-by-side
with her. He said he wanted to know her secrets and fears, what makes her happy and sad. He wanted
to know her deepest desires and laugh and celebrate with her. It didn’t sound like a shallow,
barely-more-than-acquaintances friendship to her.

*‘So what do I do?’* she asked herself. *‘Do I wait for him in the Common Room so we can
walk down to breakfast together? Does he want to be seen with me so soon? Or do I sit in my normal
seat and just see if he comes to me? Or should I make the bold move of sitting where he normally
does? Would that be too much?’* She feared she would come on too strong, or perhaps, not enough.
It was funny, just last night she was debating on whether or not to take his friendship, and now
she was fretting about not wanting to come one too strong or appear uninterested. So much could
change in such a short time!

Hermione decided to go down to the Great Hall solo, sit in her customary seat, and just wait for
him to come to her. She didn’t want him to think she got the wrong impression on what this
“friendship” meant by coming on as someone desperate (even though she *was* desperate!) that
suddenly thought she was his new best friend. He already had two of those, he didn’t want another
one, especially a *girl* one. He probably just meant decent friends, which she had to be
grateful for, because it was better than nothing.

She mentally berated herself for acting so pathetic and dramatic. She didn’t need to overanalyze
what he meant by “friends!” She would just have to wait it out to see what he had intended in his
confession . Until then, she’s have to play it in a nonchalant manner.

As Hermione sat down and began to pile food on her plate, she could help but smile. Pot--
*Harry’s*-- apology still rang through her ears. She wasn’t the type of girl that swooned or
giggled at sweetness, but P-- *Harry’s*-- words had been very emotional and Hermione couldn’t
help but redden a bit when remembering such a heartfelt apology was meant towards *her*! *No
one* had ever apologized to her for their previous actions towards her. She did get a giddy
feeling when she thought about it. He had been so sincere and open that Hermione found it hard to
believe that his previous actions had ever even happened. She couldn’t believe it was the same
person. But it was. Perhaps, the Harry Potter from last night was the *real* Harry Potter. He
said last night that he had acted how he thought he was expected, not how he *wanted* to. With
that comforting thought in mind, her spirits lifted and Hermione heartily dug into her breakfast
while cheerfully propping an extremely advanced Transfiguration book against the nearest juice
jug.

To anyone in the Great Hall, Hermione Granger appeared eagerly engrossed in her book; however,
that was not the case. On the contrary, Hermione had too much excitement bubbling over in her
stomach to read. She kept tossing inconspicuous glances towards the open doors, waiting for a
certain raven-haired Seventh Year to enter. For a second time that morning, Hermione had to remind
herself to remain practical about this. Acting too eager wasn’t the attitude she should have at the
moment; it would only result in disappointment. After all, she still didn’t now his intentions. Not
to mention, she wasn’t ready to even *think* about letting her guard down. There was still no
reason to put complete trust in this boy or his enthralling words, no matter how painfully
delicious and absolutely alluring they sounded. She needed to keep a clear head. *‘Calm down,
Hermione,’* a practical voice inside her head reminded her cautiously. *‘You don’t want to be
an open book, do you?’*

Hermione took a deep breath to subside her enthusiasm before she began eating again and forced
herself to forget about *him* for a moment so she could read.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The dormitory was silent as the boys wordlessly got dressed. Harry knew Ron and Draco had been
talking about him while he was in the shower. He had stepped into the room and eyed them
suspiciously when their hushed conversation abruptly came to an end with his presence in the room.
That had been ten minutes ago, and still, no one had mentioned a word.

Harry didn’t know how Ron felt about him seeking friendship with Hermione. He knew Draco had
told him as he had asked, and that was the extent of it. Harry threw them both a rather stony look,
which caused them both to look away. Finally, after another minute of terrible silence besides
their muffled shuffling about, Harry muttered, his voice holding a hint of disappointment and
anger, “See you two in class,” before swiftly parting from them.

His journey to the Great Hall was slow: His mind on his two best friends and their choice to not
support his actions. Harry admitted to himself that this was quite disappointing. He was been
hoping that they wouldn’t deny Hermione their friendship and jump head-first into this new,
difficult escapade with him, but it was painfully obvious that Harry was solo on this adventure. It
was just going to make this all the more difficult.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*In my head there's only you now*

*This world falls on me*

*In this world, there's real and make believe*

*This seems real to me*

*You love me, but you don’t know who I am*

*I'm torn between this life I lead*

*And where I stand*

*You love me, but you don't know who I am*

*So let me go*

*Let me go*

*“Let Me Go” 3 DOORS DOWN*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry felt a strange sense of déjà vu as he entered the Great Hall for breakfast. Had it been
just a few days ago when he had been faced with the dilemma of whether to sit with Hermione or not?
It seemed as if it had been weeks, maybe even ages ago since then. So much could happen in just a
few days.

He searched the hall for Hermione, easily spotting her in her traditional seat. He slowly,
determinedly strolled in her direction, feeling once again that everyone’s eyes were on him. But it
didn’t bother him so much this time. He heard someone-- Dean Thomas maybe-- say his name in
greeting. He distractedly replied a quick hello.

He stopped right in front of Hermione, who was engrossed in a book. He sat in the vacant seat
across from her. “Good morning, Hermione Granger,” he greeted her cheerfully, trying to hide his
nervousness. What if she just point-blank ignored him? What if her friendliness from last night was
just a lie so she could get away from him and go to bed? No, she wouldn’t do that to someone--
would she?

Hermione looked up from her book, mildly surprised. She shyly gave him a small grin, which
Harry, as relief swept through him, returned. “Good morning, Harry Potter,” she replied softly, her
cheeks reddening slightly.

They both just stared at one another for a moment, neither knowing quite what to say. Suddenly,
Harry realized it was quiet. *Too* quiet for the Great Hall during breakfast. He glanced
around the hall, seeing everyone’s gazes on them.. He chose to ignore their offending looks and
addressed Hermione again, “Did you sleep well?” he asked, well aware of the sudden murmurs filling
the silence of the Great Hall, sounding like a hive full of angry bees, no doubt discussing the
feuding families’ current status and what was occurring right now: A Potter and a Granger being
*friendly* to one another. . .it was unheard of!

Hermione looked down at her almost-cleared plate of food, unable to look him in the eye any
longer. “I slept fine, thank you. And yourself?” she asked politely.

Harry thought back on the atmosphere he had woken up to and the stony treatment he was receiving
from his best mates. He was able to muster up a small smile despite his anger and sadness, “I slept
fine as well, thank you,” he replied formally.

Hermione nodded, “That’s good then.”

There was an awkward silence. Everyone was still looking at them. Harry took this moment to
start up his breakfast plate, though he didn’t feel too hungry right now. He glanced over at
Hermione and saw that she had returned to her book, though he could tell she wasn’t reading a word:
Her eyes were staring blankly at a spot on the page, and Harry could see that her cheeks still held
a slight scarlet tent to them.

After looking uneasily around once more, ignoring glares and questioning stares, he decided to
try to break the thick ice and formality between them again. “So. . .err. . .is that book any
good?” he asked awkwardly, not really knowing what to say. Last night he had opened himself up more
than he ever had with anyone. He felt very vulnerable, and it scared the Hell out of him to think
about how open he had been with her, more or less a complete stranger!

Hermione’s response broke him from his panicking thoughts, “It’s fascinating.” Harry waited for
more, but nothing came.

“Sounds nice.”

Minutes seemed to crawl by as both students tried to remain calm in a very uncomfortable
situation. Neither knew what to say, and anything that they *did* say would surely echo, even
if it had been whispered, in the silence of the Great Hall. Hermione continued to pretend to be
reading while Harry munched on his breakfast. He didn’t need to look to know his two best mates
arrive for breakfast. He felt their cold stares. Harry glanced towards them, watching as they
glared back at him, sitting in their regular seats. Harry felt as if a knife had been stabbed into
his gut and twisted painfully around. His best mates were deserting him. They had always been able
to get along, but now, things looked as if their friendship was drawing to an abrupt close.

Could they just throw away over six (even more for Ron) years like that? What about all the
times they had together? What about all those summers of hanging out and playing basketball or
American football? What about their adventures and thrilling escapades? Did their history mean
nothing to Ron and Draco? Did he mean so little to them?

Hermione seemed to sense his wariness and said without taking her eyes from his book, “Go sit
with them. I’ll be fine over here. I don’t want you to feel as if you are bound to me or anything.
They’re your best mates.” Harry could hear the pain and regret in her words.

Harry tried to say reassuringly, “It’s fine. I think they’d disown me anyway.” Harry tried to
make it a joke, but he realized it was the wrong thing to say when he saw a look of horror pass her
features.

She immediately closed her book and grabbed her book bag. “P-- Harry, look, I really appreciate
what you are trying to do, believe me, you don’t know how much it means to me to know that someone
wants to be a friend of mine, but I am not going to let you ruin your life over me. Maybe this is
all just a mistake. You should go back to them, tell them you didn’t know what you were thinking
and we should just stop this right here. It’s for the best. It’s. . . yes, it’s for the best.” and
with that, Hermione left a dumbfounded Harry in the Great Hall as she quickly rushed from
breakfast. Harry sat there for a few seconds, slightly shocked, before jumping up and following
her.

He sprinted across the Entrance Hall just in time to see her rush through a door leading to the
staircase. He quickly increased his pace and followed. He saw her start up the staircase.

“Hermione!” he called breathlessly, making her quickly spin around and stop in her tracks. He
soon found himself standing before her, gasping for breath.

“Harry? What is it you want now?” she asked, looking slightly worried at his current state.

“I-I. . .give me a second,” he stated and stood up as straight as he could, trying to take in
even breaths. Finally, he was able to continue. “I *want* to be a friend of yours. Don’t be
dense, it is *not* going to ruin my life, believe me. They’ll come around, don’t worry. Right
now, I just want to be focused on making this friendship work. Ron, Draco, and me- we’ll work it
out, I know we will. I’m disappointed because I thought our friendship was stronger than this, but
I guess I was wrong. But before I try to make amends with them, I want to start something with you.
*This*, what we have, what we are *going* to have, I think, will make my fallout with
them worth it. I dunno, I just have this gut feeling that taking these steps is the right thing to
do. So, *please*, stop trying to toss it away. It *will* work, just give it a
chance.”

Hermione took all this in. She gave a small nod, “Alright, if you’re sure. . .”

Harry beamed, “Absolutely positive.”

Hermione grinned, “Alright then, what now?”

Harry laughed, “I say we should head to class. I don’t really feel like going through the Great
Hall scenario again. I think they were all plotting our stoning as we sat there.”

Hermione laughed, “Yeah, I think so to. I wouldn’t have been surprised if they had told us to
follow them and we were commanded to be flogged!”

“And tarred and feather!”

“Maybe sent to the gallows to be hung!”

“Or tied to the Walloping Willow to be beaten with it’s limbs. And trust me, it hurts like
bloody hell!”

Hermione’s face suddenly gave a horrific look. “How do *you* know how it feels?!?!”

Harry laughed, “In my Second Year, me, Ron, and Draco were late in going to the train, and being
the prats we were, we barrowed Ron’s father’s flying Ford Angela, and we hit the Willow once we got
here. I swear, that wretched car turned on us! It tried to get us killed! But anyway, yeah, we had
a bit of a nasty run-in with the old tree. Not a very pleasant experience, mind you.”

Hermione’s eyes were wide. “You guys *flew* here in a *stolen* car and got
*beaten* with the limbs of that monster?!?! Goodness, are you blokes *really* such prats?
Why didn’t you just owl Professor McGonagall? Surely she would have done something!”

Harry grinned, “Because, Miss Granger, we were twelve years old! What do you expect? The
prospect of flying the car was just too alluring! Come on, surely you can see where I’m coming
from! And just for the record, the car was not *stolen*, rather it was *borrowed and never
returned*. And the only reason for it not getting returned was because the dodgy car took off
towards the Forbidden Forest and has been hiding in there ever since!”

Hermione cocked an eyebrow skeptically, “Borrowed and never returned? Borrowing a car without
consent it the same thing as nicking it. Maybe getting beaten by the limbs were payback! I do not
feel nearly as sympathetic as I did before!”

Harry just rolled his eyes dramatically, “Good thing I wasn’t banking on your sympathy then, eh?
Otherwise I’d be in a right spot!”

Hermione just gave a *‘humph’* and started in the direction of her first class, Harry
following her. They made their way to their first class, Charms, lapsed in an uncomfortable silence
again.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*And we could change, we could change it down
We could change the world, we could strike the chord
We are the lost ones, we are the lost ones
We could re-write history, if only you and me
We are the lost ones, we are the lost ones
And We could change it down*

*“The Lost Ones” ANBERLIN*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

They got there early, and the classroom was deserted. Hermione self-consciously sat down at her
usual seat and couldn’t help but get a nice feeling when she heard Harry drop into the seat next to
her. She gave him a small grin, which he heartily returned.

“So. . .did you get your homework done?” Hermione asked, immediately feeling like a dork the
second she got the words how. *How embarrassing! She was talking about homework!!!*

Harry didn’t seem to mind though, “Yeah, I finished the review questions last night once we. .
well, you know, after our talk,” he finished awkwardly.

“Oh. That’s nice then.” *Now what, Granger?’* she asked, mentally berating herself for
overanalyzing this again. What was a *cool* subject to talk about? She glanced out the window.
“It looks cold outside,” she commented, eyeing the dark clouds with distaste before catching
herself once again. Now she was talking about the *weather!* She could almost feel her face
turn beet red in embarrassment, which she quickly tried to hide.

Once again, Harry seemed to be interested in the dull subject, “Yeah, but trust me, the winters
here are absolutely breathtaking! Everything is covered in snow, and the castle looks. . .
*wow*!” Hermione watched as his eyes seemed to light up at the very thought of it. “The lake
turns to ice and some students go skating on it. I can’t skate, so I never have. Also, the hills
are great for sledding on. Then there’s Hogsmeade. Its little shops look just like they came out of
a Christmas card! Everything is so wonderful!”

Hermione grinned. “Sounds beautiful.”

Harry smiled back, “It is, it truly is. I can’t wait for you to see it, Hermione. Then the
Christmas feast is always brilliant. There’s a Christmas ball in the Great Hall on Christmas night,
which I think is a bit boring, but a lot of people enjoy it. It’s like the Fall Bash but a lot more
magnificent! Then, twelve giant Christmas trees, and I mean *giant* Christmas trees, line the
Entrance Hall, all decorated brilliantly. Oh! And the breakfast even, is fantastic. Trust me, the
house-elves go all out. Honestly, it’s quite impressive-”

But Hermione cut him off, “*House-elves*?” she inquired, in a slightly astonished tone.

Harry nodded his head and replied, “Yeah, they’re magical creatures, elves really, hence the
name. They are kind of like servants. The elves are freed once their master-”

Hermione cut in once again, “Presents them with clothes,” she finished. “I *know* what they
are; I’ve read all about them. They are treated unfairly! House-elves have a right terrible life!
It *never* mentioned the enslavement of house-elves in *Hogwarts, a History,”* Hermione
said sharply.

“Oh. Well, Hermione, that’s what they’re here for-” Harry began to explain, but Hermione would
hear none of it.

Hermione stood as her hands went to her hips as she got in her defense mode. Harry gingerly
stood as well, slightly terrified at her sudden strong emotion. “They don’t receive wages for their
life-long work! They have no rights! How would you like it if *you* had to serve ungrateful. .
.ungrateful. . .*bastards* your whole life, never knowing freedom! Never receiving wages!
Never. . .never *anything!*” She threw her hands helplessly in the air.

Harry didn’t know how to justify their treatment. “Look, Hermione, they *like* their
enslavement. I realize the concept may be rather hard to grasp, but-”

Hermione stomped her foot angrily, “What, are you *condoning* it?!?!” she asked
incredulously, her hands wildly shooting back to her hips.

“Well, no, not exactly. But. . .well, honestly, what makes their masters ungrateful bloody
bastards? They are giving the elves room and board and-” Harry sputtered, not really knowing how to
debate this.

“At a price!” Hermione pointed out angrily. “They are ‘giving’ *nothing* away. People are
just too lazy to do things themselves!”

“Hermione. Listen to me, please. They. *Like*. Their. Enslavement. It’s just the way it
is.” Harry responded helplessly, clueless on what to say to make her understand.

“Because they don’t know any better! If they were even *decently* educated, house-elves
could do wonders to the Wizarding World that does *not* include serving afternoon tea! I’ve
read they have their own special brand of magic and are actually really powerful creatures, but
they can only use their magic if their masters allow them to.”

Harry sighed; there was no changing her mind. He could see it from her perspective and
understood why she must have felt so strongly about this. Growing up in the Wizarding World, he had
just never really thought about it. They were there, servant creatures, and that’s just how it was.
“I see you aren’t going to shift your thinking on this, and I don’t blame you. When I think about
it, I see it as an unfair life as well. They have no liberty rights, I know. But Hermione, there
are some things that just *are* and we’ve got to accept it. House-elves are here, they’re
happy as can be. I sneak off to the kitchens all the time. Actually, I know one of the house-elves
personally. His name is Dobby. You would like him. He *does* ask for wages, and Dumbledore
pays him.”

Hermione cried out in triumph, “Ha! See! House-elves really *do* want their freedom!”

“Yes, well, he’s the only one. None of the others want wages, and they see Dobby as odd because
he does.” Harry pointed out, remembering the other house-elves’ thoughts on his odd friend.

There was a silence following his words before more students began to file into the classroom.
Hermione didn’t seem satisfied that their debate had been over, but decided to finish it up at
another time. Class was about to begin.

Professor Flitwick stood atop a large stack of books, taking role call. His squeaky voice rang
through the silent room. Everyone’s eyes were on the odd duo sitting beside each other, looking
uncomfortable yet firm that was sitting in the bottom row of seats, all the way to the end by
Professor Flitwick’s podium.

Harry could feel his best mates’ gaze on him from across the room, but he tried his best to
ignore them. Instead, he became immensely interested in his eagle feather quill.

“Now,” squeaked the professor, “I want you do divide off into pairs and work on the charm we
were learning last Monday, the Harmonious Charm. Remember, the incantation is ‘*Harmodious.’*
not *‘Harmonious.’* That is the name of the spell. Now, carry on.”

Hermione glanced uneasily at Harry. *Were they to be partners?* She never had a partner
before; she always just worked alone.

Harry gave her a grin, “So, Miss Granger, how long to you think before you master this
charm?”

Hermione turned slightly pink, “I did last Monday. . .,” which caused Harry to laugh
cheerfully.

“Well, maybe you can help me then?” He asked, grinning.

She nodded quietly.

“Right, so shall you go first?” he asked, gesturing to the untied shoe that was now laying
before them. The charm was used to make things work in harmony. For example, if used on an untied
show lace, the laces will automatically tie themselves. It was tricky because you had to have in
mind exactly what you wanted the objects to do.

Hermione’s demeanor suddenly became more serious as she began to explain the procedure to this
charm. “First, you have to think about exactly *what* you want the objects to do. In our case,
we are simply tying shoe laces. Now, remember every time you ever tied your shoe. What did the
laces look like? How did they work with each other? How did they *harmonize*? Then, once you
have all those thoughts in mind, enunciate the incantation ‘*Harmodious’* precisely and
clearly while waving your wand like this,” and she gave a quick flick of her wand . The shoelaces
suddenly sprung to life and made quick work of tying with each other.

Harry stared at her, slightly astonished. “Did you just come up with that? It sounded so. .
.*technical*! It’s just tying shoes, but you make it sound like. . .well, something huge and
important.” Harry said, looking at her.

Hermione blushed more than ever. Was it wrong to think of spells like that? Was that an unwanted
quality in a friend? Finally, in a small voice, she voiced her fears, “Is. . .is technical bad?”
she asked uncertainly.

Harry just shrugged, “Not really, it’s just a little. . .I dunno, different I guess. Even the
professors don’t talk like that.”

Hermione slowly twirled her thin wand between her fingers, not really knowing what to say.
Finally, she cleared her throat and said, “Yes, well, maybe you should try it now.”

Hermione kept quiet for most of the lesson, instead, just watching as Harry’s attempts improved
until finally, at the end of the lesson, he could successfully tie the shoelaces.

They continued in a similar manner for the rest of the morning classes. They were ignored by
everyone, save a few remarks that were aimed towards Harry, asking if he was right mad or what his
angle was concerning Granger. The professors acted indifferent. Harry and Hermione ignored everyone
and their comments. Hermione stayed quiet mostly, afraid of sound too technical again. Harry kept
getting glares from his best mates and tried to deal with their row. He knew he couldn’t confide
his feelings in Hermione because she would get upset and tell him to desert it. So instead, he
tried to put up a cheerful front for Hermione while he brooded angrily inside.

Finally, their last morning class arrived, Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry sat down with
Hermione and caught Sirius’s eye. The professor winked at him before getting into the lesson for
that day. By the end, he announced a pop quiz for tomorrow, and told Harry to stay after class. The
bell rang.

Hermione quickly got her things ready. Was she suppose to wait for him out in the corridor while
he talked to the professor? Was he in trouble? Oh she hoped he wasn’t!

“I’ll catch up with you at lunch, alright, Hermione?” Harry eased her dilemma. She muttered
something in the affirmative before quickly exiting the classroom.

“So! Things seem to be going well, then, Harry?” Sirius immediately asked.

Harry shrugged, “Yeah, they seem to be okay.”

Sirius gave a loud dramatic sigh, “Well, are you going to tell me all the dirty details or do I
have to hex them out of you?!?! Come on, out with it boy!” Sirius said before giving a bark of
laughter.

Harry grinned involuntarily at his godfather’s behavior. “Well, there isn’t really much to tell,
to be honest. I finally got her to talk to me, I apologized, my best mates hate me, and she doesn’t
seem to feel comfortable around me. I dunno if she actually wants to be my friend of if she just is
because I asked here to, you know?” Harry confided, voicing his fears. Before he could stop
himself, he quickly gave Sirius an overview on what had happened so far, including his talk with
Draco and the reason why he had been late to class the day before.

Sirius sat down at an empty desk. “Well, it’s only been on day. Your mates will come around,
don’t worry about that. Ron and Draco love you like a brother, and this isn’t going to change
things. Just give them time to get used to it. It did seem to come out of nowhere to them. The same
thing with Hermione. She’s a good girl, I wouldn’t worry about that Avery bloke too much. He has
nothing on you. She sees that. Just give her some time as well. It will take her awhile to get used
to this. Everything can’t just *happen*, Harry. Show her your real self. She’ll see how
friendly you are, and you will eventually gain her trust. The same goes for you. I don’t want you
to walk into this friendship blind.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Sirius sighed, “I know you don’t want to hear this, but honestly, Harry, she *is* a
Granger-” Harry started to angrily cut him off but Sirius just continue louder, “I jus want you to
watch your back. Don’t walk in *too* trusting. Let it all come with time, please.”

Harry didn’t want to admit the wisdom behind his godfather’s words, but felt no other
alternative. “I will, Sirius. I’ll try not to let my guard down again.”

“Again?” Sirius asked in a surprised voice.

“My apology to her was. . .a little sappy and I felt so vulnerable. I bared myself to her, I
guess.” Harry admitted, feeling embarrassment curl in his stomach.

“How?” Sirius asked innocently, though Harry could see a devilish gleam in his eye.

“No, we are *not* going there!” Harry exclaimed definitely. He knew Sirius would just take
the mickey out on him.

“What? Is my godson becoming a pansy? Did you beg for forgiveness by giving her roses and a big,
cuddly stuffed teddy bear named Harry that had green eyes and black hair? Aw, that’s so
*sweet*!” Sirius cried, creating fake tears in his eyes.

Harry just rolled his eyes. “You are such a prat, Sirius, will you *ever* grow up?!” Harry
tried to appear repulsed.

“Never!” Sirius declared, jumping up on the desk with one hand on his hip while the other held
his wand out as if he was in a duel to prove his immature point. “Dignified professor by class,
Peter Pan the rest of the time!” Sirius said, referring to never growing up properly.

Harry shook his head at his godfather’s antics before starting for the exit, “I’m leaving in
case whatever you have may be contagious!” He heard the alleged Peter Pan’s loud bark of laughter.
He saw a small First Year boy in the corridor and quickly called him over. The younger boy looked
at Harry quizzically. Harry opened the door a bit and let the First Year peer inside. He quickly
withdrew his head and looked at Harry, his eye’s wide in astonishment.

Harry laughed, “That man is completely mad! Never turn out like him!” Harry warned before making
his way to the Great Hall for lunch, his spirits lifted.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione stood outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts room for a moment, pondering what the
professor may want with Harry. Was he going to tell Harry to stay away from her? They had a close
bond, Hermione knew. Anyone with eyes could tell Harry and Professor Black were good friends.
Hermione sighed before turning towards the Great Hall. Once she got a deserted corridor, she felt
as if she was being followed. Hermione glanced back behind her, but saw no one. She kept walking.
Suddenly, she heard it. Someone’s footstep *were* following her! She quickly whipped around,
but once again, no one was in sight.

Feeling her heartbeat start to quicken, so did her footsteps. She kept glancing suspiciously
behind her, but no one was there. She could hear them, but no see them.

After a particularly loud sound, she whipped around. “Alright, who’s there?” she asked fiercely,
brandishing her wand out in the direction of the deserted corridor. “Show yourself!” she commanded,
swear starting to journey from her forehead.

She suddenly heard a cold laugh and saw John Avery appear out of thin air, making her gasp. He
began walking towards her. “Hermione, no need to be frightened,” he said soothingly, taking her
wand from her sudden limp fingers and tucking it back in her robes’ pocket. “It’s just me,” he
whispered, causing Hermione to take a step back.

*‘No, no, no!’* she thought earnestly*, ‘not now!’* “What do you want?” she asked,
their previous conversation burning in her mind.

He just laughed again, “Nothing. I just couldn’t help but notice that you and Potter seem to
have become friends. Now, I presume what we discussed yesterday will take awhile to settle in your
mind. I knew you would need a little time to mull things over, so to speak. But, I can’t help but
get the feeling that Potter is just going to mess things up.” He said softly, stepping closer to
her. This time, however, Hermione didn’t back away.

His hand came out to caress her shoulder and traveled down her arm, causing her to close her
eyes, part from disgust and part from pleasure. His breath was on her ear again as he murmured
softly, “We don’t want to mess things up, now do we? I want you to make your own decision. And
well, let’s be honest here, Potter and I aren’t very fond of each other. I just don’t want you to
be persuaded by him.”

Hermione opened her eyes, “He’s my friend.” she said defiantly, and she could see a burning fire
in Avery’s cold eyes.

“A friend? Does he offer you what I do? Can he guarantee you greatness like I can? Think about
this, Hermione. He’s. . .soft. He can’t protect you like I can. He doesn’t have power like I do.
And look at how the school is acting.” He leaned in again to her ear and spoke quietly, “He’ll
crack. His best mates, Malfoy and Weasley, they’ve all been best friends since their First Year.
And Malfoy and Weasley, they’ll *never* accept you. Do you honestly think Potter will give
them up for *you?* Do you think things will turn out like they would in some fairytale? That
they’ll come around and Potter will win over your heart? Trust me when I say Potter is bad news. He
won’t help you. He will abandon you, Hermione, when he sees things aren’t going his way.” He said
fiercely, causing Hermione to shake her head.

“No, he’s my friend. He *wants* us to be friend, you don’t know him!” she cried defensively
stepping away from him.

“No! He does not want to be your friend, Hermione. He wants to use you, probably just toy with
your heart. His family is your enemy. Even if Potter *is* genuine, *they* will tear you
apart. He won’t leave his friends and family just for the sake of having your friendship. You
aren’t important enough to him. But to me! My family and friend would welcome you with open arms.
Think about it, Hermione.”

His heated gaze made her fall under his spell. It was hypnotic. His hand slowly stroked her
cheek in a soothing way. “We can be something special, Hermione. Please, don’t let Potter influence
you. It would be for the worst.” A noise suddenly sounded from somewhere close by. Avery didn’t
even flinch. He stared at her for a second before saying softly, “We’ll talk again soon,” and with
that, he left. He was already down the corridor when Hermione finally began to collect her
thoughts. She saw someone coming towards her and recognized it immediately as Harry.

“Hermione!” Harry greeted, surprised to see her. “I thought you went down to the Great
Hall!”

Hermione looked behind her, where Avery had left. Should she tell Harry? Something inside her,
sounding oddly like Avery’s ensnaring voice, advised her against it. “Oh, uh, Filch stopped me,
asking something about if I had seen two suspicious-looking Ravenclaw students, something about
them setting off dung bombs. I talked to him for a minute. That’s all, then I guess I lost track of
time!” she lied quickly, hoping he would believe her.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*I cannot find a way to describe it
It's there inside
All I do is hide
I wish that it would just go away
What would you do
You do if you knew
What would you do


All the pain
I thought I knew
All the thoughts lead back to you
Back to what
Was never said
Back and forth
Inside my head
I can't handle this confusion
I'm unable come and take me away*

*“Take Me Away” AVRIL LAVIGNE*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Harry raised an eyebrow, “You talked to Filch?” he asked skeptically.

“Yeah, he’s actually not all that bad once you get passed his loathing for the students.”
Hermione tried to say defensively.

Harry shrugged, “He’s a squib, did you know that?”

“A squib?” Hermione questioned.

“Yeah, it’s the opposite of a Muggle-born. He was born Muggle into a magical family. A bit
embarrassing, to be honest. Usually thought of as a disgrace.”

“Oh, poor guy. No wonder he hates the students. He’s probably burning with jealously.”

Harry nodded, “Yeah, something like that. Anyway, shall we go to lunch?”

With that, they headed off to lunch.

Their afternoon classes crawled by, everyone still ignoring the duo. Harry noticed Hermione
seemed to be preoccupied about something, but he wasn’t sure if it was his place to ask. Sirius’s
advice ringing through his mind, telling him not jump in too quickly. Maybe he should hang back a
little bit, just to allow them both to take in their new friendship status. It would probably made
them both a lot more comfortable. At the same time, however, he didn’t want Hermione to think he
didn’t care for her.

He watched as she mutely at her dinner before finally asking, “You seem a bit quiet, are things
okay?” He tried to sound as innocent as possible and not like he was trying to be nosy.

Hermione looked up at him tiredly, “Sorry, didn’t catch that, what did you say?”

“Err. . .I asked if things were okay, you seem a bit quiet,” Harry repeated, feeling worry start
to pool in his stomach.

Hermione seemed indifferent, “I’m fine. Just a bit tired,” she lied.

Harry nodded his head in understanding.

They finished their dinner in silence before heading to the dungeons for detention. On their
way, Hermione gave a laugh.

Harry, finding her laugh contagious, started to grin, “What’s so funny?” he asked, causing
Hermione to give another laugh.

“Well, you landed yourself in detention with me so we could talk, and now, well, we’re friends,
and you’ve still got detention for the rest of the week! And we didn’t even sort things out in
detention! It’s just a bit ironic.” Hermione explained, making Harry’s grin wider.

“I guess so, though I don’t regret having detention with you,” he replied, a serious tone in his
voice, causing Hermione’s laughter to trail off and making her blush.

“Yeah, well. . .we should probably hurry. We don’t want to be late.”

The rest of the evening was awkward for the two of them. Neither had anything to say. Hermione’s
mind was preoccupied on everything Avery had told her the day before and today in the corridor.
Would Harry turn on her if she wasn’t eventually accepted into his crowd? Surely he wasn’t ready to
give up relationships that have lasted years over just her. No, no one would do that, and she had
no right to expect him to. He would abandon her eventually, once he saw things won’t work out,
she’d just have to accept that. She would just have to use this as a practice experience for the
future. A learning opportunity, if you will. She should guard herself enough so she doesn’t get too
close to him. She wasn’t going to get heartbroken over this. No, this would be a simple, temporary
friendship, no lasting strings attached. He will desert her, and she will face it indifferently,
she will expect it. He’s kind, he’ll do it gently.

On the other hand, Avery’s friendship sounded more lasting. His crowd would take her in without
a second thought, and even if they *did* oppose it, Avery would take care of it. He had that
power. His friendship held more promise in the long run. But Avery was bad news. Luna had warned
her. Luna had told her to stay away from him. He promised power. He promise revenge. Avery promised
*success.* But was it all worth it? She would have to offer so much to him first. She was
afraid her name would be on the deaths of many people. Is that the kind of person she wanted to be?
No, but. . .

Hermione sighed. This was so hard! Harry didn’t promise anything permanent, and would be more
likely to back down from his stand. Avery, guaranteeing lasting greatness and power, but at a
terrible price. At a price she might regret.

This was confusing. Oh how she wished she could see into the future! It would make things so
much easier. But she couldn’t. And she couldn’t have ties to both of them. They were enemies. Being
linked to both would only result in her losing both of their offers. No, she would have to choose.
She remembered something her grandmother had told her a long time, something about not being able
to drink from the cup of Satan and from the cup of God at the same time. She wasn’t a religious
person, however, her grandmother was and regularly taught her the Bible’s teachings. This was one
story that she always loved because she always found it absurd that someone would find themselves
in such a dilemma. Now she felt the moral crush down at her at full force.

Hermione, lost in her thoughts, was surprised when she felt Harry’s hand on her shoulder, trying
to get her attention. She jumped, dropping the glass vial she had in her hands, making glass
shatter in every direction.

Harry jumped back, pulling her with him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, but it’s time to
go. Are you alright, you seemed lost in thought. I’ve been trying to get your attention for the
passed few minutes. Are you sure nothing’s bothering you?” Hermione could see the evident concern
in his eyes.

She just shrugged it off again. “I’m fine.” She could see he didn’t believe her. “Honestly, I
am, I’m just tired. Shall we go?”

Harry cast an uneasy glance at her once more before letting her lead him back to the Gryffindor
Common Room in silence.

He walked with her to the Portrait Hole and said good night. He had Head Boy patrols tonight so
he had to go. Hermione told him she’d see him in the morning before disappearing through the
portrait hole. Harry watched her leave before heaving a sigh and starting down the corridor to
begin his rounds.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*Cause it's you and me and all of the people*

*With nothing to do, nothing to lose*

*And it's you and me and all of the people and*

*I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of*

*“You And Me” LIFEHOUSE*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione went up to her dormitory, still internally battling the pros and cons of befriending
Harry and Avery. She laid down, hoping to ease her stressful mind, but nothing was working. The
situation still worried her. Finally, after realizing trying to get to sleep was futile, she
grabbed her notebook from her bedside table, picked out a pen from on of the drawers, and headed
down to the empty Common Room.

She sat in front of the dying fire, feeling a sense of relaxation from watching the orange
embers. She randomly doodled on a piece of paper before turning to a fresh sheet.

She tried to think up a poem, but couldn’t. She found herself writing Harry’s name with “Head
Boy” under it. She smiled. He had so much responsibility. And she was such a horrible friend to him
right now. She didn’t know what she was suppose to do. Finally, she wrote out a heading:

**Things A Good Friend Would Do**

A (temporary) GOOD friend would. . .

+ Worry about their friend

+ Help their friend with homework

+ Help their friend with problems

+ Be there when needed

+ Make their friend laugh

+ Trust their friend

+ Improve the world for their friend

Hermione tapped the end of her pen on the tablet, trying to think up something else to write.
Finally, she decided to describe each action so it would help her be a better friend:

A (temporary) GOOD friend would. . .

+ Worry about their friend- during Quidditch matches, tell Harry to be careful and not get
killed!- make sure he uses spells and potions correctly and not do something that would hazardous
to himself-

+ Help their friend with homework- read over his essays and correct mistakes- help Harry get
ready for tests and quizzes, and the N.E.W.T.S especially!!

+ Help their friend with problems- make sure he doesn’t get in trouble- when he’s down help him
solve whatever is making him sad- LISTEN to what he has to say-

+ Be there when needed- be Ron and Draco- show Harry you can be a good friend- don’t let others
put him down

+ Make their friend laugh- crack a lot of jokes and try to act witty and funny- send Clarence
post

Hermione suddenly stopped, making a mental note to tell Clarence about everything that had
happened. She wrote it on the corner of the page before continuing her list:

+ Make their friend laugh- crack a lot of jokes and try to act witty and funny- send Clarence
post asking for good jokes- show positive side of everything- the glass is half FULL

+ Trust their friend- stop doubting Harry- show him you trust him- not TOO soon though

+ Improve the world for their friend- make things easier- show him a good Christmas- show
appreciation- be there for him now become no one else will be fore the time being

Hermione re-read her list several times, feeling her stress of their friendship slowly ease
away. This will surely help her be a better friend. Now she will just have to put her notes into
actions while she still debated Harry vs. Avery.

Now that she was feeling better, Hermione stood up and began to make her way to the Girls’
Dormitory stairs. Suddenly, she heard a noise sound from somewhere, causing her to stop in her
tracks. What was that? Was it a house-elf? It wasn’t Harry or Avery, it couldn’t be. Harry was on
patrols, and Avery can’t get in here.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” she asked uncertainly, her eyes searching the dimly-lit room. There
was no response. She shrugged and started back to the staircase. Suddenly, the noise sounded again.
Whatever it was, it was closer now. She heard clumsy shuffling. “Who’s there? This isn’t funny!”
Hermione because irritated now. She searched the deserted room for a second time before turning
towards her dormitory again. She ran right into someone, causing her to almost fall backwards into
someone *else*! Fear automatically crept into her stomach as she felt arms grab her from
behind, pinning her arms behind her. She tried to free herself, but it was useless. The person
behind her was too strong. She quickly looked at the person standing in front of her and gasped.
There, smirking dangerously at her, was Draco Malfoy. Hermione didn’t need to look behind her to
know that her other captor was Ron Weasley.

“Looks like we found ourselves a dirty little Mudblood,” Draco sneered nastily, causing Hermione
to cringe.

**So what did you think? PLEASE review! I just hope it wasn’t a big disappointment. I had a
story that I absolutely loved, and they took forever with updates, and when I read the update, I
was so disappointed because I expected so much more. . . Oh well, maybe next time! Oh, and I’m
beta-ing (is that how you spell it?) for a girl, and you should all take a look at her story,
Belong to Nowhere! Also, be on the lookout for a new 2 shot called “Bad Day” that I will probably
be posting next, mirroring a situation I had (and am still having) with my best friend. Anyway,
don’t forget to REVIEW!!! Tell me what you think!**

**Until next time, Stay Righteous!**

***~Archie~***



13. The Internecivus Araneus
----------------------------

**Hey guys…I know, I’ve taken bloody forever on this…I’m so sorry. I don’t even have an excuse,
I’ve had all the time in the world to write it, I just wasn’t feeling it. Thanks for all the
reviews from the last, they’re much appreciated! I’m gonna save my A/N until the end so you can get
to reading. But I have done some thinking about my story, I know a little more about where I want
to take it, so I’ll tell you about that at the end of the chapter!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine…though, I DO have a slightly funny one-shot about how I could steal the
Series from JKR…lol. Also, I got most of my information about the dangerous creatures that Hermione
reads about out of my copy of *Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them*, so yeah…not
mine.**

**Recap!**

*So what do I do?’ she asked herself. ‘Do I wait for him in the Common Room so we can walk
down to breakfast together?*

*A Potter and a Granger being friendly to one another. . .it was unheard of!*

*Did their history mean nothing to Ron and Draco? Did he mean so little to them?*

*“Well, there isn’t really much to tell, to be honest. I finally got her to talk to me, I
apologized, my best mates hate me, and she doesn’t seem to feel comfortable around me. I dunno if
she actually wants to be my friend of if she just is because I asked here to, you know?” Harry
confided, voicing his fears.*

*“…Show her your real self. She’ll see how friendly you are, and you will eventually gain her
trust. The same goes for you. I don’t want you to walk into this friendship blind.”*

*Hermione opened her eyes, “He’s my friend.” she said defiantly, and she could see a burning
fire in Avery’s cold eyes.*

*“No! He does not want to be your friend, Hermione. He wants to use you, probably just toy
with your heart. His family is your enemy. Even if Potter is genuine, they will tear you apart. He
won’t leave his friends and family just for the sake of having your friendship. You aren’t
important enough to him. But to me! My family and friend would welcome you with open arms. Think
about it, Hermione.”*

*Things A Good Friend Would Do*

*There, smirking dangerously at her, was Draco Malfoy. Hermione didn’t need to look behind her
to know that her other captor was Ron Weasley.*

*“Looks like we found ourselves a dirty little Mudblood,” Draco sneered nastily, causing
Hermione to cringe.*

**Chapter 13: The *Internecivus Araneus***

Hermione looked into Draco Malfoy’s steely gray eyes, feeling fear start to settle heavily in
her stomach. What were they going to do to her? After a few minutes of tense staring crept by,
Hermione finally spoke, hoping she didn’t sound as scared as she felt, “What. . .what do you want?”
she asked while trying to jerk free from Ron but failing to do so.

Draco gave a cold laugh, “What do we *want*? Are you honestly that dense? We thought you
were smarter than that.” His voice dripped with venom and made Hermione internally cringe at how
loathsome it sounded.

Hermione felt Ron Weasley tighten his grip on her, making her let out a small yelp of pain.

“You’re getting awfully chummy with Harry Potter, don’t you think, Mudblood?” She heard Ron say
viciously in her ear. She felt chills run up an down her spine. She was reminded of the that time
in the corridor when she was surrounded by the Slytherins. Surely Ron and Draco wouldn’t think to
haze her in such a way right here in the Gryffindor Common Room when anyone could walk in at any
moment, especially Harry. Surely he was still out doing his rounds.

And Mudblood? Why were *they* calling her that? She didn’t know them very well, but she
never got the impression that they thought so little of Muggle-borns. Surely *Harry* wouldn’t
associate with such foul company. But then again, she didn’t know Harry that well either. Maybe he
felt the same way as they did. She just couldn’t see such a dirty word being uttered by the same
mouth that had come up with such a beautiful and meaningful apology the night before.

While all these thoughts swam through her mind, Hermione just remained silent, hoping Harry
would return from his rounds soon. Her captors, however, would have none of her silence.

Draco stepped closer, “Do you know what you’ve done? Do you realize how much you fucked things
up that Harry had going for him? Ever since the first goddamn day he met you in Potions class!”
Draco’s seething voice grew louder and angrier with each word.

He was so close to her now, and with the constant flickering of the dying firelight, he looked
more intimidating than ever. “I didn’t do anything.” Hermione tried to say defiantly, but it came
out more as a squeak.

She heard Ron give a sarcastic laugh from behind her. “Yeah right! Do you think we honestly
believe he would be so bloody stupid and actually *like* you? I guess you really *are*
that dense.” He gave a nasty laugh before suddenly taking on a more serious face. “What are you
doing to him?” He asked fiercely, jerking her arm from behind and making her wince then grit her
teeth.

Hermione tried to struggle again as anger flared up inside her. “Exactly what are you
suggesting, *Weasley*?” she asked vehemently, still trying to half-heartedly break free.

Draco answered smoothly, “You know exactly what we’re suggesting, filth. What spell do you have
him under?”

Hermione couldn’t believe the nerve of these two blokes! Accusing her of using *magic* on
Harry! Preposterous! “I don’t have him under a spell, *or* any other type of magic, you
asshole.” She replied indignantly.

They laughed again. “Harry isn’t that foolish of a git. We know you’re brainwashing him in some
way.” Rom said from behind her, causing Hermione to try to elbow him.

Draco just laughed at her attempts and his eyes suddenly darkened maliciously, “I know you’re
doing something to him. . .or maybe something *for* him.” Hermione watched, turning pale, as
he eyed her body up and down. She was wearing her dressing gown over her pajamas, but still, she
didn’t like what he was implying or how he was looking at her.

“A naughty little bookworm like you teaching Harry a few bedroom tricks in exchange for his
friendship?” he asked, running his hand up her arm and neck to cup her flushed cheek.

Hermione felt more chills tingle disturbingly throughout her body and instantly began to thrash
about, causing Draco to withdraw his cold hand. “You sick bastard.” she hissed once she calmed
down. “You speak as if I’m some common harlot!” First they accused her of casting a spell over
Harry, and now indicting her of giving him sexual favors for friendship! How could they be so
degrading? How could Harry ever have actually been friends with them? Speaking of Harry, where was
he?! Shouldn’t he be back by now?

Hermione broke away from her musings and noticed Draco’s face had grown more serious. “Look,
bitch, you have no right to come here and take our best mate away. Don’t lie to me! I know you’re
using some sort of Force on him. I’m presuming you got lonely and decided to take revenge on
Harry.”

“I didn’t do anything to him!” Hermione said loudly through gritted teeth. “*He* came to
*me*! Now, please, leave me alone!”

“Say Harry *did* come to you.” Ron reasoned. “He won’t stay. *We’re* his friends. His
*real* friends. His parents will hate you. *Harry* has always hated you. We’ve talked
about it on many occasions. He always made fun of you. Why would he just stop and suddenly care?
Don’t you get it? *Everyone* hates you!”

Hermione felt suddenly crushed. “No.” she whispered. Harry didn’t hate her. He changed. He never
*really* hated her. No, he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Everyone didn’t hate her. Her parents didn’t
hate her. Clarence didn’t hate her.

Draco took this opportunity of silence and of her vulnerability to return to the conversation.
“She’s right, Ron. You’re last words were a little foolish.” He smirked. “*Everyone* doesn’t
hate her. We can’t speak for all Man and Wizardkind. There are those-- I’m sure-- that would
appreciate her. . .qualities.” He whispered menacingly, making Hermione become completely still and
look at him questioningly.

Confused, she forgot how Ron still hadn’t relinquished his strong hold on her and how these two
fellow housemates were holding her captive at the moment. “My qualities?” she asked, waiting for
him to elaborate. What qualities? Did this have anything to do with what Avery was talking about
with the Dark Lord and her ruling?

Draco took a step towards her. “Yes, your *qualities*. They won’t be appreciated
*here.* You’re wasting your time *here.* No one, not even precious *Harry bloody
Potter,* will accept you *here*.” His voice began to rise again. “Here, here, here! Don’t
you get it? You don’t belong *here*! Go! Go somewhere where they’ll accept you. We won’t. The
other Gryffindors won’t. The Potter family won’t. . . .*Harry* won’t accept you!”

Hermione felt the sting in his words pierce her. Tears threatened at the corners of her eyes,
but she tried to keep them at bay. It made no sense. Harry *wanted* her to be here. He
reassured her over and over. These boys knew *nothing* of what Harry had told her. He said
everyone would come through. He said what they would have would be worth all this.

They were contradicting everything he told her, just like Avery had. Avery told her almost the
same thing. But Harry was more sincere and trustworthy. . .right? Hermione suddenly remembered the
list she had made earlier in front of the fireplace. Once f her points was to stop doubting him so
much.

Draco was still looking at her, waiting for a response. Hermione realized there had been a
rather lengthy silence while she had been thinking about what Harry had told her. “Uh. . .you don’t
know anything about Harry.” Hermione began, but immediately realized how foolish she must have
sounded. Ron and Draco had been Harry’s best friends for years. Of course they knew him!

Draco smirked, “Oh really? Have you forgotten how close us and Harry have always been? Oh!
That’s right! How silly of me to think I know my best friend of *seven years*. Surely
*you* would know him *loads* more than I do, after all, you’ve known him what, five
minutes? Did you hear that, Ron? Apparently *we* don’t know him!” Draco’s voice dripped with
cruel mirth and sarcasm.

Hermione didn’t know what to say. Draco was right, she didn’t know Harry all that much. But
still, she couldn’t let them know they had gotten the better of her on that. Instead, she decided
to try to play it off to stall for time, hoping Harry would return soon to rescue her from this
situation. “Look, Harry may have been your best mate for years, but things change. *People*
change! I would think that-- that is to say if you blokes really *were* such the best of
friends-- you two would have stood by him no matter the situation. He’s a friend of mine, honestly,
who cares?! It’s not that big of a deal! Your loyalty to him must have been pretty shallow if this
is how you blokes react when something like this arises. What kind of best friends are you?!
Honestly!” Hermione huffed, trying to jerk free again. They were really starting to piss her off
now. How could they act like this after they abandoned him like they did? They had no right to even
claim him as a friend now. They were such gits!

Draco glared at her and she could almost feel Ron’s death stare burning though the back of her
head. Cleverly, Draco turned the tables on her completely, avoiding Hermione’s accusations about
shallow loyalty. “You just don’t know when to shut-up, do you? You nasty little Mudblood! You have
no right to judge our loyalty and call us betrayers when you are the hypocrite. Look at yourself.
What kind of allegiance are you showing to your own *family*? Fraternizing with Potter! With
other Gryffindors! You should be in Slytherin. With evilness. With *other* people like you
are!” He hissed fiercely, getting closer to her face. His hands gripped her shoulders, his short
fingernails digging painfully through her clothes and into her skin.

Hermione’s jaw dropped slightly. *Why* was everyone telling her she was evil? First Avery
and now Draco and Ron. What was wrong with her? What made her so bad? What was so *goddamn*
horrible about her family? She felt Draco release his grip on her and cleared her throat, mentally
debating on whether or not to admit her ignorance to them. She weighed each word carefully, “I
don’t know what you have against me, but whatever it is, I suggest you get over it soon. Harry,
whether you approve of it or not, is, for the time being, a friend of mine. If that doesn’t sit
well with you, well, that’s something you’ll have to square with. But like I said, I suggest you
come to terms with it pretty quick. Frankly, I’m getting sick of all this codswallop. I’m his
friend, get over it already! You’re just hurting him with your negative and unsupportive attitude.
You’re suppose to be his best mates. . .” she finished softly. She knew how Harry was hurting
because of his best friends’ negative mind-sets.

“How touching.” Ron replied nastily to her small lecture. “You’re the one who is ruining his
reputation. And since when do we take friendship advice from a Nobby no-mates as yourself.” He let
go of one of her arms and reached into the pocket of his robes and brought out a jar. Ron handed it
to Draco, who opened it with ease and carefully took out the small specimen inside. After taking a
closer look, Hermione recognized it as a spider. It was about two and a half centimeters long and
was a light blue whose back was speckled brilliantly with many blood-red dots. The reddish legs had
a neon green tint to them, making the spider look terrifyingly beautiful in the firelight.

“Do you know what this is?” Draco asked playfully as the bright blue spider crawled along his
fingers.

“A spider.” Hermione answered uncertainly as she watched him play with the small arachnid.

Both Draco and Ron laughed. Draco continued, “Yes and no. It’s not just an ordinary spider. This
is a very rare creature called *Internecivus Araneus*. They’re very smart and cunning. The
amount of red dots on its back tells how deadly it is. The more dots there are, the more poisonous
its venom is. As you can see, this one has *many* red specks.” Once again, his voice was
playful and careless, too calm for someone who had such a murderous spider crawling freely on his
bare hands.

“One bite is all it takes.” Ron whispered fiercely, reaching out a free hand for the deadly
creature. He brought his hand with the spider on it up to her neck. “One bite and you’ll be
injected with such a poisonous venom that your insides will look as if they had been melted with
acid. The funny thing is, you can’t feel the bite. You wouldn’t know if it bit you or not until the
poison takes over.” He sneered and moved his hand closer, teasing the petrified Hermione.

Hermione stood completely still, not daring to move a muscle. The *Internecivus Araneus*
was just a centimeter or so away from her ear. Ron gently brushed the spider up against the bottom
of her chin and laughed at her fear. They wouldn’t kill her, would they? This was all getting way
out of hand. This wasn’t just some small hazing situation that everyone could walk away from, this
was *murder*! Tears gathered at her eyes and silently rolled down her cheeks. She’d never get
to see her parents again or her grandparents or even Harry.

Draco started back up from where Ron had left off, “The venom eats and melts away your insides,
a very painful experience, I expect. These killers were slaughtered mercilessly ages ago, which is
why they’re so rare; their colonies are very hard to find. They’re illegal to have in the UK.
Previous dark lords used them for torture, some even had they’re own special army of them.”

Hermione still refused to move. Ron had *accidentally* dropped the fatal creature on the
collar of her dressing gown, so close to her unprotected neck. Hermione could feel every move the
spider made even through her clothes. It slowly crawled towards the soft flesh of her neck.
Hermione made a soft sound and squeezed her eyes tightly shut. Hermione suddenly felt a
feather-light touch on her neck, making her gasp. The spider was now at the base of her neck.
Hermione tired not to panic, but she felt her arms start to shake with fear. She vaguely registered
the two boys laughing cruelly and Ron-- or maybe it had been Draco-- muttered something before
Draco reached out and gently picked up his little friend. Hermione still didn’t move but felt such
relief she had never felt before. She watched as Draco caressed the spider like he had been doing
earlier. Hermione found herself praying that the deadly creature would bite him or that Harry would
return soon. Draco placed the spider back in its jar and handed it over to Ron, who put it in the
pocket of his robes.

Ron released Hermione from his grip and she immediately dashed towards the Girls’ Staircase.

“Granger,” Draco called softly, making Hermione stop fearfully and turn around to face him.
“wouldn’t it just be *horrible* if my little friend somehow got let loose in your bed while
you were sleeping?” He asked evilly, causing Hermione to gasp before rushing to her dormitory and
locking the door and windows securely with several charms.

She began to hastily pace around her room, shock and fear coursing through her body. How could
anyone ever be so bloody horrible?! Even more, what did this say about Harry, who had been best
friends with these two cruel bastards for years? They were so different from each other. Even when
Harry and her weren’t on good terms with each other he had *never* been anywhere near as cruel
as Ron and Draco. They had threatened her life for Merlin’s sake! And they said *she* was the
evil one! They should be expelled at the least! Bringing a deadly illegal creature in Hogwarts and
threatening a fellow student’s life with it!

Hermione realized she was still shaking and slowly made her way to the mirror that sat by her
bed. She looked at her reflection and suddenly felt sick to her stomach. Her skin was a chalky
white and her eyes were wide with fear. There was a red irritation at the base of neck, probably
from when the spider’s toxic body came in contact with her bare skin. She rubbed the spot gently,
hoping to sooth the redness and make it go away. Ron’s words floated into her mind:

*“One bite and you’ll be injected with such a poisonous venom that your insides will look as
if they had been melted with acid. The funny thing is, you can’t feel the bite. You wouldn’t know
if it bit you or not until the poison takes over.”*

Did she get bitten? No, surely the venom wouldn’t stay dormant for this long. No, definitely
not. It was impossible. Such a strong poison would surely react right away. And she felt fine. Her
stomach was churning painfully, but Hermione told herself it was just from shock and was possibly
all psychological. She did not get bitten; there was no way.

She took a few deep breaths, hoping to calm herself down a bit. She twitched suddenly when she
felt something crawl stealthily up her leg. She pulled her pajama pant’s leg up only to find
nothing there. She ran her hand over the tingling skin, but only felt smooth skin. She closed her
eyes in relief. She changed clothes, not really sure why, but just knew she didn’t want to wear
those clothes until they were freshly washed.

She sat on the floor, refusing to go near her bed. Every few minutes she would panic when she
felt those tingling sensations prickle over her skin, but it was still just hallucinations. She
jumped at every sound, almost expecting to see Ron or Draco’s face appear at one of the windows.
Hermione pulled her legs up to her chest and hugged them close to her body. She wouldn’t get any
sleep tonight, that was for sure.

00

Hermione jumped when she heard her alarm clock go off. She still hadn’t gone to sleep. Her eyes
were bloodshot from the lack of sleep. She blinked a few times, looking around the dark room before
slowly standing up from her spot on the floor. She almost fell right back down because of the
painful cramp that had taken over her right leg. She gingerly walked towards her clock on her
bedside table and turned off the alarm.

Once the room was silent from the alarm’s annoying ringing, Hermione grabbed some fresh clothes
from her wardrobe and disappeared into the bathroom where she took a very hot shower. She scrubbed
her body furiously-- especially her neck where the spider had crawled on her-- to get all the
traces of that *spider* and Draco’s hand off of her. She felt dirty and ill to her stomach.
How could she let someone overpower her a *second* time? And even more, *what* was she
going to do about it?

Hermione stepped out of the shower and wrapped a clean scarlet towel around her rubbed-raw
reddish body. She sat on the toilet and debated what she should do. Should she tell Harry? Would he
even believe her? Did he know the cruel nature of his old mates?

But what would he even do? Hermione barely even knew him, how could she share with him something
so personal like the events that had occurred last night? She couldn’t. No, it wasn’t his burden to
carry, it was her own. She needed to act as if nothing had happened until she could think of a
better plan of action. She couldn’t let them see how much sleep she lost or how she had a scolding
shower in hopes to relieve herself of *all* remnants of them from her skin. No, she would act
casual, but they would not get away with this. They had threatened her *life*. Something had
to be done.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*(Yeek-Yeek Woop-Woop) Why you all in my ear? Talkin' a whole bunch a shit that I
ain't tryin to hear.
Get Back! Motherfucker You don't know me like that.
Get back! Motherfucker You don't know me like that!
(Yeek-Yeek Woop-Woop) I ain't playin' around.. Make one false move, I'll take you
down.
Get back! Motherfucker You don't know me like that.
Get back! Motherfucker You don't know me like that!*

*“Get Back” LUDACRIS*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

With those thoughts in mind, Hermione quickly got dressed and put her daily makeup on. Once she
was convinced she looked alright and not as if she had been up all night, Hermione headed to the
Common Room where she found Harry making his way towards the Portrait Hole. She quickened her pace
and caught up with him in the corridor.

“Hermione!” he cried pleasantly. “Running a bit late, aren’t you?” he asked with a friendly
grin, slowing down so they were side-by-side.

Hermione returned the grin, “Yeah, I just couldn’t seem to get myself motivated this morning.”
Hermione tried to reply cheerily as she hitched her large book bag up higher on her shoulder.

Harry laughed, “I know those days. Were your dreams *that* good?” he asked with a smirk,
causing Hermione to blush. Harry just laughed again.

“On the contrary, I just got caught up in reading a book this morning and didn’t want to put it
down until I got done with the chapter.” Hermione lied defensively with a huff. She read a lot,
surely this wouldn’t come as a shock.

Harry smiled, “What book?” he asked

“*Hogwarts, A History*.” Hermione replied smoothly, continuing down the corridor. “Have you
read it?” she asked conversationally, hoping to distract him from what had kept her so long.

He shook his head, “Nope, can’t say I have. Is it interesting then?” he inquired, speeding up a
bit to catch up with her.

“It’s a *very* interesting read, you should check it out. I enjoy it every time I read it!”
Hermione said excitedly, always happy to share thoughts about her favorite book.

“Err. . .exactly how many times have you read this book?” Harry asked hesitantly, looking over
at Hermione in time to see her turn a slight pink.

“Well, from cover-to-cover, I’ve read it thirty-eight times, but I’ve skimmed through it more
times than I can count.” Hermione replied, hoping she didn’t sound like a loser to Harry, but
judging by the shocked look in his face, she hadn’t done a good job of it.

“Are you bloody serious?!” He asked, eyes wide as he stopped in his tracks. “Have you
*honestly* read that book *that* many times?! That’s mad, that is!” Harry sputtered
disbelieving, making Hermione feel suddenly self-conscious and like a nerd.

She gave a fake laugh, “Of course I haven’t,” she quickly lied, trying to play it off. “I was
just having you on. I’ve only read it twice before, and I wanted to refresh my memory of it
because. . .Well, you know, I haven’t really read it since I was fifteen or so, and well, now that
I’m actually *here,* I thought it might be a good idea to browse through it again.” Hermione
hated lying, but she didn’t want Harry to think she was only about books. No, she had to show him a
side of her that even *she* didn’t know yet. It was the only way to gain his friendship. No
one wanted to be friends with a boring bookworm!

Harry laughed. “Good, I actually believed you for a second. I mean, you know, it’s nice to read
a book a few times, but *thirty-eight* times is extreme!” He explained as he began walking
again, his words making Hermione feel even worse. Was she that extreme?

Hermione tried to smile and change the subject, “So, what are your favorite classes?” she asked,
hoping it would spark a less embarrassing conversation.

Harry shrugged, “The only class that I really *hate* is Potions, three guesses why.” He
laughed. “But other than that, I don’t really mind the other ones. Divination was just a crack of
bull so we dropped out of that in Fifth Year, but Ron, Draco, and I *did* have a lot of fun
making loads of rubbish up for that crazy old bat. Defense Against the Dark Arts is my favorite
though. Sirius is absolutely brilliant. I’ve known him my entire life.” Harry said as they entered
the Entrance Hall.

Hermione nodded, confirming her earlier suspicions of those two being close. “He seems nice.
He’s pretty funny too.” Harry nodded in agreement. They stopped at the double doors leading into
the Great Hall for a hesitant second before joining the students eating their breakfast.

They’re ability to communicate seemed to have stayed behind in the corridors. Neither spoke as
they sat down in the same seats as yesterday and an awkward silence fell between the two. Hermione
resisted the urge to pull out a book, once again not wanting Harry to think she was a bore, and
instead, concentrated on her bacon before looking down the table where her two captors from last
night usually sat. Draco was the only one sitting there, lazily thumbing through a magazine while
letting his food get cold. Hermione figured Ron hadn’t come down yet. Draco seemed unaffected by
his cruel and disgusting behavior from the night before, as if he terrorized his peers nightly with
illegal spiders. Hermione glared at him, remembering the way he had been so close to her face,
threatening her life. She gave a shudder and turned her attention to Harry, who was trying to
ignore the glares he was receiving and was attempting to appear interested in his food.

Harry let out a steady breath as he took another bite of his cereal, though he didn’t taste much
of it. His peers, people he had been around for over six years, were angrily staring at him as if
he were some other species that had offensively dropped in, unwanted, during their civil breakfast.
He wondered vaguely if this was how Hermione had felt when she had arrived, maybe even *still*
felt this way. It was a horrible feeling, and he didn’t know how she could put up with it, alone,
everyday. He gave a small sigh inwardly as he began to feel guilt creep into his stomach from how
he had treated her. He was probably only feeling a quarter of how *she* had felt and he was
getting depressed about it. Just imagining being loathed by so many with no friends to share the
burden with made him want to retch, especially knowing he hadn’t reached a helping hand out sooner.
He tried to push those thoughts away when remembering the actions he was taking to make amends. He
had messed up, but now he was fixing it, that’s all that mattered right now.

That day, as well as the rest of the week, had went by in a similar fashion as the day before.
There were awkward conversations to fill the even more awkward silences, neither really saying
anything important, but the trivial words helped a bit, just to ease the tension. Hermione had
tried to push Ron and Draco, as well as Avery and his gang out of her mind. She could tell it was
killing Harry to have his best mates treat him like this even though he tried his best not to let
it show. Their detentions were getting better, the storage room was almost completely cleared up,
though Snape was still as foul as ever to Harry.

Harry still hadn’t spoken to Ron or Draco. He caught their angry glares and hurtful looks, but
he tried to ignore it. He had chosen *Hermione*. He had picked right over easy, and he would
stand by it, no matter the cost, even if it was his best mates. He reminded himself that the right
thing wasn’t always just a walk in the park and sacrifices must be made sometimes.

But it was so *difficult*. Everything between the two of them was so uncomfortable and
awkward. They didn’t warm right up to each other immediately like he had hoped. He was so used to
having two best mates to share everything and joke around with, it was hard *not* to have that
anymore. He didn’t know what he could say to Hermione and what he couldn’t. There were so many
factors that needed consideration and he just wasn’t sure how to act around her. First off, she was
an “enemy,” so even though they were trying to overcome this obstacle, they were watched like a
hawk constantly. It was hard to get to know someone when your frail developing friendship was being
scrutinized by everyone under a microscope. Also, Hermione was a girl. He didn’t know how to deal
with that. He wasn’t sure what could and couldn’t be said to a girl. His best mates had been guys,
so there were no boundaries. Hermione was different. Not only was she a *girl*, but she also
happened to be a girl he had been attracted to at the Ministry. Things like that didn’t just
disappear because of last names. He still found her quite pretty, and her courage and intelligence
only made her even more desirable. It just made things even more difficult. He didn’t want a
relationship with her, he knew that. He couldn’t even *begin* to entertain the idea of it;
however, the possibly of “maybe sometime” lingered, hidden, in the very back of his mind.

But he tried. Harry tried to decode the unspoken set of rules of friendship between rivals,
between a male and female, between himself and Hermione.

Both Harry and Hermione tried to become comfortable in this new frontier of friendship they had
attempted to voyage into. They studied together, each slightly amazed at the other‘s skills. Harry
was in awe of Hermione’s expanse of knowledge while she envied his ease and how quickly he could
catch on to something. Currently, the odd pair could be found in the Library, quietly studying at a
table in the back that Hermione had taken as almost a second home.

Hermione scribbled furiously in her notes as she glanced from time to time back at the reference
book she was using for her Potions essay. Harry was on the other side of the table, idly thumbing
through a book and making slow progress on his own notes. He had Quidditch practice soon, and for
once, he wasn’t looking forward to it.

He didn’t feel like facing Ron and Draco, or the rest of the team, at the moment. He glanced at
his watch, knowing he should have left a few minutes ago. With a small sigh, he closed his book and
began to pack his things up. Hermione looked over at him for a second to see what the source of the
noise was before returning to her notes. “I’ll. . .uh. . .be back later. Are you your going to be
in here still? Practice will probably last for a few hours.” he asked awkwardly, not sure if he was
suppose to check with her later plans or not.

Hermione nodded, “Yeah, I’ll either be here or at dinner.” she replied, setting down her pen
(she hated using quills). Harry muttered a quick “okay” before starting towards the door. Hermione
sighed as she watch him go before softly closing her book and glancing around the Library. She
quickly put her things away, packed tightly in her book bag, before taking it with her towards the
many shelves of books. She read the subjects on each side of the bookshelves, searching for one
that help her in the subject she was seeking. Finally she strayed down an aisle and read the titles
on the many leather-bound books. One caught her gaze. She eased it from its spot and reread the
cover: *Deadly Creatures and Their Origins*. Hermione quickly thumbed through it, satisfied it
would be the source to find her answer, before heading back to her table. She was about to start
reading it before she caught site of the Quidditch pitch from the window. Harry was out there,
practically all alone. With a small sigh, she signed the book out in her name and wedged it in her
already-full book bag then headed outside to the Pitch. The air was cold so she transfigured her
robes into a thick cloak and quickly made her way to the Quidditch stands.

Was this okay? Was she just allowed to show up during practice? She wanted him to know she
supported him. The coldness was bitter in November, but Hermione soon found the Gryffindor stands
and took a seat on the cold bench, wrapping the cloak tightly around her body for warmth. The Pitch
was empty, Hermione suspected the players were probably still in the Changing Rooms.

Harry continued the long walk to the Changing Rooms where the rest of the team waited. As soon
as he stepped into the room, everyone became silent, making Harry tense up.

Their eyes watched as Harry went into the boys’ changing area, the door slamming loudly as he
left the Strategy Room. He grabbed his clothes from his locker and made quick work of getting
changed. He reached into his book bag pocket and pulled out his shrunken Firebolt to return it to
its full size. With a small sigh the team Captain joined his teammates in the Strategy Room. He
looked around at his fellow players before addressing them, “Alright guys, as you know, our next
game is against Slytherin. They have a strong team, but ours is stronger! We’re going to be busting
our asses during practices this year, so when we get into a match, we’re going to wipe the Pitch
with those gits!” Harry said enthusiastically, though he could tell no one was even listening.
Everyone was murmuring loudly with their neighbor and had uninterested looks on their faces as if
they were bored out of their minds. Harry gritted his teeth at their obvious displays of disrespect
and continued in a louder voice, “Fuck it, just get your sorry asses out there and practice. There
seems to be a little problem with team unity. . .” he said, glaring at each face before saying,
“Don’t worry, I’ll fix that. I sure as hell hope you lot like the cold because practice just got
extended an extra hour.” With those last words, Harry led the way out to the Pitch, his disgruntled
team following close behind.

Harry kicked off the ground and flew a quick warm-up lap around the Pitch, glad to be back in
the air. It felt as if it had been so long since their last practice. Harry closed his eyes and let
the harsh wind whip through his already-messy ebony hair, relishing in the sheer freedom of flying.
Something in the stands suddenly caught his eye and, upon closer inspection, he realized it was
Hermione bundled up with a heavy cloak, grinning cheerfully at him. Her smile was contagious. He
gave her a wide grin in return and flew over to her. “Hermione!” He exclaimed. “What are you doing
here? I thought you were going to stay in the Library.” Harry said, hovering right beside her.

“I changed my mind. I thought I’d come to watch you practice.” Hermione said, smiling shyly at
him before adding timidly, “Um. . .you don’t terribly mind, do you?” she asked, looking up at him
with her big brown eyes. Harry’s grin only widened.

“Of course not! I dunno how interesting it will be, but I appreciate the support.” Harry replied
pleasantly, thinking to himself that practice seemed to have suddenly gotten better. It felt good
to have someone in the stands, solely cheering him on. “Sorry, but I’ve got to get down there with
the rest of the team, but thanks for coming out. If you get too cold, you don’t have to stay. I
think I’m going to be out here longer than I had expected.” Harry said grimly, eyeing his team with
distaste.

Hermione nodded her head in understanding. “Well, hope you have a good practice!” she tried to
say cheerfully. Harry gave her a quick nod before saying goodbye and taking off again. Hermione
watched him do a few loops, causing her to laugh with excitement and gasp in worry.

00

Harry dodged yet *another* Bludger that had been “accidentally” hit in his direction.
“CARMICHAEL!” Harry roared in anger as he stopped in midair, looking over at the Beater responsible
for the attack. “You better watch where you’re aiming or I’ll have your position on the team
replaced with someone who *can* play Quidditch faster than you can say ‘unfair.’” Harry
shouted threateningly at the younger boy. He heard someone mutter something behind him and just
gripped his broom tighter. This was ridiculous! The team should *not* slack off just because
of who the captain decided to become friends with!

The wind had begun to really pick up fiercely and Hermione clutched her cloak tighter to her
body as she watched Harry fly around in search of a tiny ball she remembered him catching during
the game against Ravenclaw while coaching the other players. Something seemed a little off among
the teammates. Hermione watched them exchange what looked like angry words while Harry had his bad
turned or wasn’t looking. Also, the two black Quidditch balls that flew aimlessly around like mad
had been hit towards Harry repeatedly by the players with the bats in their hands. From what
Hermione could remember from the last game, they were suppose to hit the wild balls *away*
from the team. Why were they being so horrible to Harry? They were only hurting the team because
they weren’t practicing right.

The Quaffle almost hit Harry in the head, but he did a spiral in the air to avoid it. This was
it, he was doing his job, he had caught the blasted Snitch three times already. Harry angrily put
the tiny golden ball back in its holder before calling all the players to the ground.

“What in the bloody fuck is going on up there?” Harry roared, positively fuming with irritation.
“Your game is sloppy and a disgrace! Weasley! I watched you let the Quaffle in over a dozen times!
You know what that means? A hundred and twenty points to the other team dammit! Get your act
together and get your head in the fucking practice. Stevens and Carmichael! I know I’ve had to
dodge those bloody Bludgers almost constantly! If you two want to stay on the team, them the
Bludgers bloody fucking *away* from me! DO YOU HEAR ME?! I’m sick of it! And Chasers! Stop the
sloppy passes and half-hearted throws. I’ve seen you carelessly toss the Quaffle around, Malfoy. I
had thought you had more pride in your skills that than.” Harry glared at each one of his teammates
before continuing red-faced, “You lot are playing like a bunch of clumsy First Years, and unless
you want to be out here EVERYDAY, get your asses together. This shit just isn’t gonna fly. Now get
your asses back up in the air and actually PLAY!!” Harry shouted demandingly, noticing his players
looked as if they were going to hex him any second, but he didn’t care. “I’m doing my job, I’ve
caught the Snitch three or four times already, now you lot have got to do your own!” With that,
Harry gave them all one last look before kicking of the ground and back in the air.

He noticed definite improvement after telling all the players off; however, he could feel their
angry moods. They glared openly at him. Harry knew they all thought of him as an asshole at the
moment, but he couldn’t careless. They *made* him turn into an asshole. He watched as Ron
caught a fast-moving Quaffle and chucked it back out towards Draco. Ron saw that Harry was watching
him and flipped him off with his middle finger. Harry almost laughed at the familiarity of it, but
realized it wasn’t a friendly gesture like it always had been in the past. He looked down at his
broomstick and flew off in the other direction to watch the Beaters. After another hour of intense
playing and when Harry decided he had punished them enough, he called the team back down to the
ground.

“What now, Potter?” Marshall Kofacts sneered, “Are you raggin’ and found something *else*
to bitch about?” He asked snidely.

Harry just rolled his eyes, “You better watch it, Kofacts. You can’t blame me for your poor
performance. I wouldn’t *have* to bitch if you lot wouldn’t have messed around in the first
place.” Harry replied tightly. He heard Kofacts mutter something that sounded oddly like “asshole,”
making Harry’s jaw tighten. He glared menacingly at the Sixth Year, “Watch it, Kofacts, if you want
to remain on this team.” Marshall just turned a slight pink and looked away. “Alright, you all
played decently after my bitching, so we’re going to quit for today. If you don’t want practice to
run this late again, I’d advise against acting like you were earlier. Now get out of here and have
a good night.” Everyone headed towards the Changing Rooms while Harry got back on his broom flew up
to Hermione. He managed to give her a grin. “You stayed.” he said, slightly impressed.

Hermione smiled, “Did you honestly expect me to leave?” she asked with a laugh. Harry just
shrugged. “The team, their performance wasn’t the best today, was it?” she asked. Hermione knew
nothing about Quidditch, but she could tell they were slacking off a lot.

Harry sighed, “I dunno what was up with them. They wanted to just give the game about thirty
percent of what they normally do. I had to turn into an asshole to get them back in line. But if
that’s what it takes. I’m not going to miss out on winning the Quidditch House Cup just because my
players get a wild hair up their asses.” Harry said, still peeved at their behavior.

Hermione nodded in understanding. “So, shall we head back to the Castle?” she asked as a chill
rushed through her.

“Yeah, we’re already late for dinner.” He picked up his broom and was about to head towards the
stairs before he got an idea. He straddled his broomstick and offered Hermione the spot in front of
him with a mischievous grin.

Hermione shook her head, “No, no, no. I am not getting on that thing with you, Harry! I saw the
way you fly, like a crazed maniac! No, I will *not*!” She said firmly, taking a step back.

Harry laughed, “Oh come on, I’ll an excellent flier and I won’t do anything crazy with you on, I
promise. I’ll be really careful! Please? It’ll be fun!” He said enthusiastically.

Hermione didn’t weaken from her resolve. “Nope, I’d rather take the stairs. I like having my
feet planted firmly on the ground, thanks.” she replied.

Harry pouted slightly, “Please, Hermione?” he begged softly, sticking out his bottom lip
slightly.

Hermione just laughed and shook her head as pink started to tint her wind-bitten cheeks. “Maybe
some other time,” she said grudgingly, not wanting to our-right refuse him.

Harry sighed in defeat. “Alright then. Well, *I’m* going to fly down to the Changing Rooms
*alone* so I’ll be finished by the time you walk down all these *stairs*!” Harry tried to
say snobbishly, but couldn’t keep a solemn expression.

Hermione chuckled in amusement, “Okay.”

“And you have fun walking down all these bloody *stairs*. Don’t call me back over here when
you want a ride, because I’m not gonna do it!” Harry said stubbornly, crossing his arms in front of
his chest.

Hermione just gave him a push and started down the stairs. Harry watched her for a moment before
taking off towards the empty Changing Rooms.

Hermione was half-way down the stairs when she realized her grin had still not left her face.
Then it struck her that her and Harry just had a effortless conversation for the first time. She
hadn’t been nervous about what to say or frightened about sounding stupid. It had been so. . .easy!
She didn’t embarrass herself once! And Harry looked as if he was enjoying the conversation just as
much as she was. Her grin grew wider as she continued down the steps, humming a soft tune, feeling
a slight boost in confidence.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

*Is this a dream?*

*If it is*

*Please don't wake me from this high*

*I've become comfortably numb*

*Until you opened up my eyes*

*To what it's like*

*When everything's right*

*I can't believe*

*You found me*

*When no one else was lookin'*

*How did you know just where I would be?*

*Yeah, you broke through*

*All of my confusion*

*The ups and the downs*

*And you still didn't leave*

*I guess that you saw what nobody could see*

*You found me*

*You found me*

*So, here we are*

*That's pretty far*

*When you think of where we've been*

*No going back*

*I'm fading out*

*All that has faded me within*

*You're by my side*

*Now everything's fine*

*I can't believe*

*“You Found Me” Kelly Clarkson*

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione’s unease suddenly came back when she saw Harry, now dressed back into his school
uniform, waiting at the bottom of the stair for her, his book bag flung over his right shoulder. He
met her with a grin and they started towards the Castle. “So, do you like Quidditch?” Harry asked
conversationally.

Hermione shrugged, “I dunno what it is really. The match against Ravenclaw house was the first
time I’ve ever seen it played. I don’t really know the rules or anything. It looks terrifying!”
Hermione replied, wide-eyed.

Harry looked at her with his mouth agape. “You don’t know *Quidditch*?! It’s the best game
there is! Alright, it’s quite easy to understand, though not so easy to play. First off, there are
seven players: one Keeper, three Chasers, two Beaters, and then one Seeker, that’s me. There are
four balls: a Quaffle, that’s the big red one; two Bludgers, those are the black ones that try to
knock players off their brooms; and then the Golden Snitch, the tiny gold one that is hard to
catch. It’s my job, as Seeker, to catch it. Are you following me?” Harry asked, looking at
Hermione.

Hermione, who was listening intently, nodded. “Seven players: one Keeper and Seeker, three
Chasers, and two Beaters. Then four balls: the Quaffle, two Bludgers, and then the tiny ball you
have to catch called the Golden Snitch. Got it!” Hermione repeated thoroughly, tugging her book bag
up higher on her shoulder.

Harry grinned and nodded before continuing with the explanation of one of his favorite sports.
He told her about the points and how they are recorded. He told her about the different positions,
who played them on the team, and how skilled they were. Hermione listened closely, slightly in awe
about his pure passion for the game. Hermione could tell he loved the sport very much. His
enthusiasm and excitement was very evident. He was able to carry his favorite topic of conversation
all the way through dinner, telling her about his favorite teams and how he had gone to a Quidditch
World Cup match in his Fourth Year with Ron and Draco. His foul mood from the poor practice had
lifted tremendously.

Harry blushed slightly once they got to the Common Room, realizing he had been going on and on
about Quidditch for so long. Was it something he could talk to Hermione about? He and the guys
could discuss it all day, every day. Hermione wasn’t a big fan like he was, so maybe she didn’t
want to hear all this. What if he was boring her?! Harry suddenly stopped in his talking before
sheepishly saying, “And. . .well, that’s Quidditch in a nutshell. . .” He gave a nervous laugh.

Hermione raised an eyebrow, “A *nutshell*?” she asked incredulously. “I think that was more
of a *nuclear bomb* shell!”

Harry blushed even more, “Yeah, sorry for going on and on about it. . .I can get carried away
with it sometimes.” He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt while shifting from one foot to the
other.

Hermione just laughed, “Oh, it’s quite alright. I like listening to you talk about Quidditch.
You seem really passionate about it.” Hermione replied before looking at the clock which was
telling her that if they didn’t leave now, they’d be late for detention. “But, we’ve really got to
go or we’ll be late for Snape.” They quickly took their bags to their dormitories then rushed to
Snape’s classroom right in the nick of time. Hermione realized this was Harry’s last detention.
Next week, she’d be on her own.

They finally finished the grueling task of cleaning to room completely. All the glass vials and
flasks were washed, dried, and stacked neatly in the crates, which lined on of the walls. All the
trash had been cleared out and the stone floor swept to the best it could have been. Salvageable
furniture has been repaired, the rest was used to fuel the fire in Snape’s office or thrown in
trash. Usable cauldrons lined another wall, stacked as neatly as possible. The room smelled of
cleaning supplies and old potion. Once the pair of them had finished cleaning the sink, they
knocked on Snape’s office door, informing him the room was now completely finished. He sneered at
the two Gryffindors before going to inspect the room himself.

Harry and Hermione watched as Snape looked all around the room, in cabinets and behind crates,
looking for any reason to keep them longer. “The glass vials are in these crates?” He asked,
opening the nearest one.

“Yes sir.” Harry replied politely.

Snape seemed satisfied that their work was done. “You two may go, this room is satisfactory.”
Snape said softly, before exiting himself.

Harry and Hermione exchanged looks. “Satisfactory?” Harry asked incredulously. “This room is
above and beyond brilliant! We worked our asses off in here, and he calls it ’satisfactory.’”

Hermione shushed him and pulled him gently from the room. “We’re done, that’s all that matters.
Let’s just get out of here, I want to get to bed.” Hermione said quietly.

After saying goodnight to Harry, Hermione was finally able to go to her dormitory. Not for the
first time, Hermione felt grateful for having her own room. The privacy was excellent. She opened
her book bag and pulled the book she had gotten from the Library earlier that day, *Deadly
Creatures and Their Origins.* Getting ambushed by Draco and Ron was still vivid in her mind, and
she was still trying to come up with the best action to take. The first thing she wanted to do was
see if they had been bluffing with that spider or not. Was it really deadly or were they just
trying to scare the living daylights out of her? She skimmed the Table of Contents, looking for
something that would help her in her search. “Hmm. . .Deadly Marine Creatures. . .Origins of
Outrageous Myths. . .Rare and Exceptional. . .hmm, page forty-two.” Hermione hastily flipped to
page forty-two and read the title of the chapter, “Rare and Exceptional” a second time. Draco had
mentioned that it was a very rare creature, the *Internecivus Araneus.* Hermione began read
each subtitle of all the rare magical creatures listed, pausing at a few that sounded
interesting.

She stopped at the passage about the Chimaera and looked at the picture displayed for the
creature. The vicious-looking creature had a lion’s head, goat’s body, and the deadly tail of a
dragon.

**Chimaera**

*The Chimaera is a rare Greek monster that had always been assumed to be mythological (see
page twenty-seven in chapter “Origins of Outrageous Myths for more information) by Mankind until an
unfortunate occurrence had happened concerning said “mythological monster” have undeniable
acknowledgment. This creature has the head of a lion, body of a goat, and a dragon’s tail. Known
for its brutal and bloodthirsty habits, the Chimaera is classified as EXTREMELY dangerous and
impossible to tame or domesticate by the Ministry of Magic. Despite the scarce population of the
Chimaera, there has only been a single affair when a Chimaera had been slain, but the poor wizard
died soon after his victory by falling from his winged horse due to his fatigue from his
efforts.*

Hermione studied the picture a moment longer before skipping down a few subheadings and stopping
at the Lethifold.

**Lethifold**

*(also known as Living Shroud)*

*The Lethifold is fortunately a rare creature that can be found only in tropical climates.
Resembling a black cloak, the Lethifold glides slightly above the ground during the night in search
of it’s next victim. The perhaps half an inch (possibly thicker after a fresh kill) thick predator
suffocates unsuspecting victims (usually in their sleep when said victims cannot get to their
wand). Once satisfied of their prey’s suffocation, The Lethifold eats and digests its food right
there before exiting the house, leaving no trace of themselves*

*or their victim behind. The only known spell to use against the Lethifold is the Patronus.
There has only been one recorded survivor of the Living Shroud, Flavius Belby in 1782. It is
unknown how many victims the Lethifold has taken due to the nature of the attack and how no traces
are left behind to give an account for the disappearance.*

Hermione gave a shiver. Wow, that sounded outright dangerous! After another shudder, Hermione
continued her search before pausing, a cold feeling settling in her stomach, when she finally found
what she had hoping she wouldn’t.

**Internecivus Araneus**

*(translates into “Murderous Spider”)*

*The Internecivus Araneus is a most ill-fortunate rare creature to come across. Categorized as
a spider, this arachnid is about one to four centimeter in length and is a very light sky blue.
Having eight legs like any other spider, the legs are a reddish color with an overcastting shade of
bright green. The back of the Internecivus Araneus tells how poisonous the spider is by how many
brightly red speckled dots are present: The more speckles, the more poisonous the venom is. Native
to northern Asia, the spider is illegal to own in the Netherlands, as well as many other countries
in Europe, Africa, North America, and Australia due to the nature of the spider. Intelligent and
shrewd, the Internecivus Araneus is highly sensitive to strong emotions, especially fear and
nervousness, which is when it tends to attack most often. The toxicity of the spider’s body can
leave redness, irritation, and sometimes rashes or worse on unprotected skin. The poisonous venom
will eat away at the insides of the victim when injected (usually bitten) and sometimes melt organs
from its potency. The bite is unnoticeable, however, the effects of the venom are almost
instantaneous. A friend to dark wizards, the Internecivus Araneus’s venom can be drawn from the
spider and then later be injected into a human with a syringe. This form of torture is, of course,
illegal and the result of such an act of cruelty is life in Azkaban.*

Hermione slowly shut the book, slightly dazed. They *hadn’t* been joking with her that
night in the Common Room. She had been trying to kid herself that maybe, just maybe, their act had
just been a bluff. But it hadn’t been one. No, it had been very real. Hermione crawled into bed,
scrunching her pillow under her head as she stared at the wall blankly, her mind trying to
comprehend to the fact that her life *had* been in great danger, no question about it. The
picture in the book had looked exactly like the specimen that had crawled on her exposed neck.
Still feeling slightly ill, Hermione hugged her legs close to her chest, burying her head of bushy
brown hair into her pillow, not quite sure of what her next move of action should be.

00

The days of the next week had been very much the same as the one before. Harry had offered to
“land” himself in detention again so Hermione wouldn’t be alone, but she was against it. She told
him she would be fine on her own, and that he didn’t need to get in any trouble for no reason.
Their conversations were still awkward, though Hermione found that she was having relaxed
conversations with Harry more often now, though not as often as she would have hoped. Ron, and
Draco were, surprisingly, absent from her presence all week long. Hermione still contemplated a
right course of action to take while trying not arouse suspicion in Harry of her disturbing
ponderings. Trying to keep her list in mind, Hermione had written a letter to Clarence, informing
her of recent events:

*Dearest Clarence,*

*Hello, how have you been, well I hope? I know it’s been awhile since I’ve last written, but
things have been hectic. I am so confused and so many things seem to be happening. I guess I should
start from the beginning, shouldn’t I?*

*After a nasty confrontation in the Common Room with two fellow housemates (I hexed them, I’ll
tell you more about that later when we get a chance to talk.), I stormed out, only to be confronted
again by a girl in Ravenclaw. We exchanged words, I was so angry I had my wand out again, and,
guess who comes to my rescue-- none other than Harry Potter! He said he wanted to be friends, but I
ignored him. I was sure he was having a go at me. But he followed me to the Library later, and in a
desperate attempt to get rid of him, I ran! McGonagall caught up with me, I thought I was done for
because of hexing those two girls, but I had only gotten a VERY severe warning and two week’s worth
of detention with Snape.*

*Potter landed himself in detention with me in hopes to get me to talk to him. Once again, I
ignored him. He wouldn’t stop though. One night, one our way back to the Common Room from Snape’s,
I fell and somehow twisted my ankle. He helped me all the way to the Common Room and mended it for
me, which was very nice of him. Oh, I almost forgot, the day after I hexed those girls, everyone
seemed wary of me, I dunno why, Clarence. They almost seemed afraid of me. Why do you suppose that
could be? Am I out of the loop somehow? Anyway, back to Harry. He still tried to be my friend, but
I still thought it was a joke. But finally, after another night of detention (We had to clean a
storage room for Snape, it was awful!), he had asked for me to listen to him for five minutes, just
to hear him out, so I relented.*

*Clarence, his apology was beautiful! He apologized for so many things, and I couldn’t help
but believe him. He was so sweet and sincere. He knew things about me, Clarence, like how I was
afraid of flying! He said he watched me fly before and could tell. This night brought the beginning
of our friendship. Yes, our FRIENDSHIP. I dunno how it all even happened, but it feels nice to have
a friend. I dunno how to be a friend, Clarence. I made a list of things I could do, but it can only
help me so much. Do you know any good jokes by the way?*

*Anyway, Harry and I are still awkward around each other, though we’ve had a few relaxed
conversations, by accident, I think. I try not to embarrass myself around him, but it’s inevitable.
Everyone is against him now, which must be hard for him because he had been really close to his two
best mates, but he’s still standing by me. His friends say it won’t last. They cornered me and said
Harry would get sick of all this and just leave me. I hope that doesn’t happen, however, I’ve
readied myself for that day. I know our friendship is temporary, though Harry doesn’t seem to think
so. He keeps saying he has a feeling that what we’ll have will be worth facing all this opposition.
Oh how I hope he’s right, Clarence, though I don’t dare let myself hope much. But, that’s what has
kept me so busy lately. I have so many emotions right now. . .but I’m doing my best on trying to
sort them all out.*

*Some things are happening, Clarence, and I feel terribly out of place. Is there something I
don’t know about? A few people are saying certain things about me-- things that make me feel like
they know something I don’t. Do you know anything about this? Please tell me, I feel so confused. I
should go to bed now, I’ve got a Transfiguration quiz tomorrow and I want to get some rest. I hope
to talk to you soon. Thank you for everything.*

*Love from,*

*Hermione*

She had left out mostly everything about Avery and Ron and Draco, just mentioning them briefly
to see what Clarence thought. Not knowing why, Hermione didn’t want Clarence to know about Avery.
Things were just too fragile. If Clarence found out Hermione’s dilemma, Hermione didn’t know how
she would react. She knew she would tell her to stay away from Avery, but Hermione didn’t need
advice right now, she needed answers. The situation with Avery was just too hard to explain, and
Hermione knew Clarence wouldn’t understand. She wouldn’t understand Hermione’s sudden urges for
vengeance or power. Ever since that night in the Common Room, Hermione had found herself thinking
more and more about Avery and his proposition. Ron and Draco had backed up Avery’s earlier words
about Harry eventually leaving her when things didn’t go his way. Hermione supposed this made her
involuntarily ponder him more often, especially with her mind vulnerable at night, no longer
preoccupied with homework and Harry.

Hermione tried to push Avery from her mind so he didn’t plague her during the day, but he would
haunt her at night in her dreams. His promises of revenge and greatness were too sweet to forget
about, and unconsciously, Hermione yearned for the power. She dreamt of dark days with her in
command. Figures in hooded black cloaks with masks would bow at her feet, murmuring words of love
and eternal service. Flashes of green light and shouts of curses before blood-curdling screams
pierced the dark night haunted her. Somehow, the screams, the bodies laying dead on the floor, gave
her smirking dream-self unwanted satisfaction, especially knowing *she* had been the one to
make the order. A spell would be cast by one of her loyal servants, causing a symbol to hover
maliciously over the house where the most recent killing had taken place, the neon red and green
contrasting brilliantly against the inky blackness of the velvety sky. A red skull with a neon
green serpent slithering out of its mouth, as if in place of the skull’s tongue. A sign to all--
*her* mark and warning-- displaying the consequences of those who resisted. Hermione would
walk up in a cold sweat, muttering “the Dark Mark” intelligibly over and over. The Dark Mark. .
.*her* mark.

**And that’s it. Right, so what do you think? Good, bad, sucky? Also, I’ve written THREE
stories in my absence from this one, two one-shots and started another. Check them out if you
haven’t already: *Stolen From Me, Never Should Have Walked Away*, and *It Wasn’t Me!* And
please REVIEW! The next chapter shouldn’t take me TOO long, I’ve been looking forward to writing it
for awhile, so hopefully it won’t be too difficult.**

**Now, about PVGR. I plan on making it a trilogy or some type of series. I’ve read a few
awesome trilogies, and I wanted to try it out. The first, of course, will be *The Potter Vs.
Granger Rivalry*. I haven’t thought up the others yet. But I plan for this story to continue
throughout their Seventh Year. The second in the series will pick up after graduation. So yeah,
that’s about all I have so far, I’ll keep up posted on my plans when I get a more concrete idea of
where I’m going!**

**So, once again, thanks for reading and reviewing!**

**Until next time, STAY RIGHTEOUS!**

***~Archie~***



14. Getting To Know Each Other
------------------------------

**Hey guys, I’m back! Yay! I know, I sure took my sweet time getting this out, but I’ve been
mega busy, AND I couldn’t get to where I wanted to go with it! I couldn’t really think of too many
song lyrics to use, plus I’m running really short on time right now. I just got home from school,
and now I’ve got to go to 4 more hours of class for driving school…yeah, it sucks. But anyway,
here’s chapter 14! Like I mentioned before, I’ve been wanting to write this chapter for awhile now.
It’s more of just a fun chapter rather than anything else, just the two of them getting to know
each other. Mind you, I edited it last night after I got back from driving class, so it was pretty
late and I was dead tired, I’m sorry if I missed any errors! I want to thank everyone who reviewed,
I feel as if I’ve spent hours replying to them all, but it’s my favorite part of this whole writing
thing, so please, keep ‘em coming!!! And I apologize, but I’m really pressed for time at the moment
and I’ll have to skip the recap, so it you have to, just do a quick skim through the last chapter,
sorry!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, and if I had time, I would come up with something witty to say
right here, but I don’t have time, so yeah, you’ll just have to wait.**

**Chapter Fourteen: Getting To Know Each Other**

*Hermione watched with a wicked smirk on her face as a figure in black--Avery--stepped aside
to allow her to move closer to the quivering couple sitting on the floor of their den. They looked
as if they were in their late thirties or early forties. They woman had reddish auburn hair while
the man had midnight ebony locks and wire-framed spectacles. The woman’s almond-shaped emerald eyes
and the man’s hazel ones were filled with fear. Hermione tsked softly, closing in the cowering pair
while lazily toying with her thin wand that had already taken so many lives.*

*“Ah. . .you two disappoint me.” she said in a voice full of mirth. “I had thought I would
encounter a braver couple. From what I’ve heard, you two are* very *powerful.” Hermione
laughed sadistically.*

*“You get out of here, Devil!” The male’s rough voice said, stuttering slightly.*

*Hermione raised an eyebrow at his exclamation, “What? And leave so soon? The party hadn’t
even started yet.” She chuckled and muttered “*crucio*” under her breath while pointing her
wand at the shaking woman. Her shrill screams filled the room as pain shot through her body like a
thousand hot knives. Her husband turned a pale white at her evident pain and maneuvered himself so
he was in front of her, causing her agony to cease as he shielded her body with his own. Now his
excruciating yells echoed throughout the house, giving Hermione intense satisfaction.*

*She lifted the curse with a smirk, “Aw. . .aren’t you noble? I see where your son must have
gotten it from; it must run in the family.”*

*The woman started screaming, “You’re* evil*!* EVIL *I tell you! Get out!” She
demanded at being taunted by her son’s terrible fate.*

*Hermione just rolled her eyes and looked bored, “Are we going to be demanding me to leave
every few minutes? If you honestly want me to leave, I don’t want to be somewhere where I’m
unwelcome. Come on, Avery, we shan’t forget our manners. . .” Hermione made to turn around and
leave, Avery following suit as the couple watched in disbelief before she, as if on second thought,
turned back around to face them. “Actually, maybe I should teach* you *two a few manners
before I go. What do you think, Avery?” She asked, looking at her disciple. He smirked and raised
his wand towards the man. Hermione lifted her own wand, pointing it in the direction of the shaking
woman. The couple was under the Crutacious Curse again. Hermione could almost smell their pain and
suffering. Once she was satisfied with their torture, she lowered her wand, motioning for Avery to
do the same.*

*Heavy panting from the two sitting on the floor was the only sound that could be
heard.*

*Hermione grinned evilly, “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” She taunted.*

*The male glared at her through broken eyes, “You’re evil! Get out!”*

*Hermione shook her bushy head of hair and replied evenly in a hard voice, “There is no Good
and Evil, only Power, and those too Weak to Seek it. That’s another lesson to learn. It’s a shame
you’re learning all these lessons right before you die, you may have been able to use
them.”*

*The man spoke again, “Please, spare my wife! Please spare her! Take me, let her live,
please?!” He begged, raising to his knees and reaching out to her with a shaking hand.*

*Hermione spat in his face and kicked him as he tried to approach her. “*Please, spare my
wife!*”* *she mimicked in a high voice. “Pathetic, the whole lot of you. You’re weak, you
don’t get spared. You die. People as feeble as you don’t deserve life. Both of you will die
tonight. Just like your son did. Say goodbye, Lily and James.” She said vehemently, raising her
wand, a cruel smirk on her lips. The couple quivered, the male still pleading for his wife to be
spared. They clutched on to each other, both choking back sobs. Hermione watched their disgusting
display of pitiful helplessness with a cold heart before whispering menacingly “*Avada
Kedarva*.”*

Hermione shot up from her bed, sweat dripping from her forehead as if she had just ran a
marathon. Her wand-hand was tightly gripped, her short fingernails digging painfully into her
flesh. She ease out of bed and went into the bathroom. After slashing cool water on her sweating
face, she filled a cup up and went over to the locked window. Hermione grabbed her wand to lift the
complicated locking charms, then sat on the window sill of the now-open window. She took a sip from
her cup as she gazed at the moon the dark starry night.

Her dream had felt so real. She had *killed* the couple. Who were they anyway? The dreams
were getting worse. With every dream, she became more ruthless, less feeling. She was pure evil.
Hermione desperately wished for them to go away, but they wouldn’t, no matter what she tried.

Hermione sighed as the cool breeze tickled her skin, and she inwardly coaxed for it to take her
troubles away. She didn’t want to be a callous murderer. She was a good person. Good people did
*not* got around killing other people, now even in dreams. But she couldn’t control it.
Avery’s words must have really gotten to her. He was always in the dreams, always right there
beside her, ready to carry out her command. It was slightly terrifying when it came to how much
control she has in her dreams, though not on the dreams themselves. No one questioned her orders,
despite their cruel and gruesome nature.

And the people were so clear. The people in her dreams were very detailed, as if she had known
them all her life. She could make out all their exact features, unlike in most dreams when the
people were hazy and sometimes faceless. Even when she woke up, their faces weren’t fuzzy; she
could still see them--almost like a photograph--with her mind’s eye.

But she didn’t know any of them, save Avery and a few Slytherins. The victims were unknown to
her, though she always had a fitting name to go with each face. In her last dream, she had killed a
Lily and James--two complete strangers--without even batting an eye. It was scary, yet somewhere
deep inside her, oddly satisfying.

Hermione let out a steady breath. Did this make her evil? Were the rumors true? She signed
again. She hoped not. As gratifying as her dreams felt, she didn’t want to be that kind of person.
Hermione had Harry as a friend. He wouldn’t want to be friends with someone terribly evil that
dreamt nightly of taking the lives of random people. Tonight it had been a couple names Lily and
James. Last night, Remus and Nymphadora had been at the mercy of her wand. The male had been a
werewolf. Hermione could remember vividly how he had transformed right before her eyes as the
clouds parted and the full moon cast its bluish shadow on him. He started to come after her, but
Hermione had easily raised her wand and killed him without even a scrap of fear. A cold laugh had
escaped her throat at her victory. Nymphadora had watched, wide-eyed, then attempted to start a
duel with her. Not wanting to bother with such nonsense, Hermione called upon on of her loyal
servants--a tall man cloaked in billowing robes of black with white-blonde hair that had been tied
back in a respectable ponytail. The woman had had surprising skill, but was no match for the male
when a well-aimed Killing Curse was cast by Lucious.

These odd dreams scared Hermione. It all seemed like a whole other world, a whole other side of
her. It

brought out desire and vengeance, delicately laced with haughtiness at being superior and a
hungry unsatable taste for power. It was a side of her she had never even knew existed. Her
dream-self terrified the bloody hell out of her.

Hermione wished she could tell Harry, but she feared his reaction. It was better to cope with it
on her own. Maybe she could get her hands on a Dreamless Sleep Potion in the few days, at least to
give her a little peace of mind. She wouldn’t have to wake up sweating and feeling completely
disgusted with herself, then debate whether or not she even wanted to go back to sleep, fearing she
would get sucked back into a world where she was a ruthless, cold-blooded killer.

Hermione sighed softly, wishing earnestly for someone to share all these confused feelings with.
She couldn’t chance confiding in Harry, their friendship was too fragile. What if she scared him
away? Her parents were out of the question as well. Their relationship was falling apart because of
her disobedience. And Clarence. . .Hermione was still awaiting her response from her last letter.
Hermione didn’t want to tell Clarence about her recent dreams either. What would she think? But her
feelings were just too intense to keep bottled up like this.

She stood up and walked over to her bedside table. Hermione found an unused notebook and groped
around for a pen before returning to her place on the window sill. Opening it to the second sheet,
she wrote the date out on the top line and paused. Was it really already almost the beginning of
December? Almost Christmas? She had been at school for almost three months. She could and at the
same time *couldn’t* believe she had been here so long. After musing about that thought for a
few more moments, she got back to the task at hand. Hermione was going to make a journal to confide
in, something that wouldn’t condemn her because of her awful thoughts, something she could trust.
She stared at the page blankly for a second before deciding to begin with the dreams.

**Things have been a little terrifying lately. I’m having all these dreams that are really
starting to disturb me. Normally, I’m a kind girl that wouldn’t even think about hurting someone in
any way. But in my dreams, I turn into an evil Dark Lord that has an unsatable thirst for killing
and causing torture. I have servants that carry out my malicious commands. Some of my victims beg
for mercy, others try to fight me. Tonight, I “invaded” the house of a middle-aged married couple,
Lily and James. Avery, one of my loyal followers, accompanied me. We tortured them and taunted them
about their son. They were scared, told me to go. They called me Devil and Evil. And in my dreams,
I was actually flattered by the disgusting names! Anyway, I killed them as they clung onto each
other. My spell was powerful enough to kill them both at the same time. Is that possible? I dunno,
I’ll have to check it out, though I don’t really think I even want to. I don’t want to have
anything to do with these sickening dreams. I’m frightened to go to sleep because they won’t stop.
And. . .I dunno if I really want them to, as horrible as the sounds. You see, when I wake up from
them, all I feel is repulsion, sometimes even ill to my stomach. But in the dreams. . .I feel like
I never have before. I feel powerful and in command. I have supporters that do anything I ask of
them and I. . .I dunno, it’s kind of amazing. But at what expense? I have to TAKE PEOPLE’S LIVES!!!
How horrible am I?! I just dunno, it’s all very confusing and terrible. I don’t have anyone to tell
either. I can’t tell Harry, I just can’t! What would he think of me then? He’ll probably think I’m
mad and completely evil, but I’m not! Though honestly, I don’t see how he could be bothered with
it. After all, he other friends--that Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy--are positively terrifyingly
evil judging by that nasty run-in we had in the Common Room all those nights ago while Harry was
out doing his Head Boy rounds. I mean, I’m dreaming about murdering people, they almost killed me,
threatening me with that THING! Right in the middle of the bloody Common Room too! I still lock my
door and windows every night with every charm I can think of in fear of them and what they might
do. Does Harry know how cruel they are?!?! I’m got to get them back though, mark my words.**

Hermione suddenly stilled as a thought struck her: she wanted revenge on Ron and Draco, and she
had every intention of carrying it out. Was this just the beginning? Was she going to plot
vengeance on *everyone* that mistreated her? It just seemed like a step to becoming that
wretched girl in her dreams. Was that her future? Would her revenge eventually escalate to
killing?

She violently ripped the page out of the notebook before slamming it shut with a shudder.
Hermione ripped the page in her hand in half then quickly shoving it in her drawer, along with the
notebook mentally damning another who would try to read it and find out how heartless she was. Not
wanting to think about it anymore, Hermione slid in bed and wrapped her thick quilt around her
shivering body tightly as an upsetting fear settled heavily in her stomach.

00

By morning, Hermione had pushed the horrifying dream from her mind. Her nightmares were bad
enough to affect her during the night, she wasn’t going to let them get the best of her during the
day as well. It was a Saturday. She was suppose to meet Harry downstairs soon to leave for
Hogsmeade, the last trip before Christmas. Hermione was pretty excited about it.

Slowly, she eased out of bed and took a quick morning shower before getting dressed and going
downstairs. Harry wasn’t in the Common Room yet, so Hermione decided to go ahead to the Great Hall
for breakfast. She passed her fellow students, who were all chatting carelessly about, paying her
no mind. It was all fine by her. They still seemed to tread nervously around her, but Hermione had
learned to ignore it. She still got an unsettling feeling when they looked at her with fear in
their eyes, but at the same time, there was a ripple of satisfaction that flowed through her.

After sitting down at her and Harry’s corner of the Gryffindor table, Hermione began to make her
plate. Soon, she was joined by a very cheerful Harry.

Harry looked like a little child on Christmas morning. He was so excited to show Hermione around
Hogsmeade. She had told him about Clarence’s tour of the village, but he insisted she still hadn’t
seen the village properly. “Top of the morning to ya, Miss Hermione Granger..” He greeted merrily
with a wide grin.

Hermione laughed, “Hello, Mr. Harry Potter. You slept well, I hope?” she asked
conversationally.

Harry plopped down in the empty seat across from her. “I slept fantastically, thank you. And
yourself?” he inquired as he reached for the eggs.

Hermione’s thoughts drifted back to her chilling dream from the night before. She gave him a
tight smile, “I slept well enough.”

Harry nodded in acknowledgement, “So, are you excited?” He asked with a goofy grin.

Hermione just rolled her eyes. “I’ve already seen Hogsmeade, Harry. I honestly don’t see the big
deal. I’m excited about it, but you act as if I’ve never been there before!” she replied with a
smile.

“Oh, you *think* you’ve seen Hogsmeade, but just you wait. We won’t even get to see it all
properly today. To *really* see it, to *really* get a good feel of the village, you have
to go at night.” Harry told her, then took a bite of his breakfast.

Hermione raised an eyebrow, “At night? For some odd reason, I *think* that’s against the
rules. . .” she said slowly.

Harry gave her a wicked grin, “This is true.” he agreed.

“And you could get in deep trouble for it. . .” she continued steadily.

Harry didn’t look fazed in the least and easily brushed off this small fact. “You’ll only get in
trouble if you get caught.” he reasoned.

Hermione shook her head, “I’m surprised you haven’t gotten yourself expelled yet!” she said.

Harry snorted and gave her a wink, “I’m just sneaky like that.”

Hermione pursed her lips in disapproval, but remained silent. It wasn’t her place to tell him
what not to do. Instead, she focused her attention on her food. They were interrupted soon by the
morning post. Owls flew in from every direction, their rustling wings creating somewhat of a draft.
Hermione recognized her own golden-brown owl in the midst of the others. It swooped down beside
her, Clarence’s reply attached to his leg. Hermione made quick work of relieving Miguel of the
letter and gave him some of her toast and bacon. She unrolled the scroll and began to read:

*Dear Hermione,*

*Hello dear, I hope you’re doing well. I’m doing fine. Things are a little busy here at the
library, but that’s what keeps me going!*

*Hermione, I know it must be hard, but you must try to keep your temper in check. I don’t want
you to get expelled after you’ve worked so hard. However, there’s a part of me saying job well
done! Anyway, Harry Potter rescued you? That is quite a surprise, and a very good on at that! I am
very happy to hear about your blossoming friendship with this young man, more than you can imagine.
Also, I am proud of you because you were suspicious in the beginning, you can’t trust just anyone,
Hermione, especially in your situation. Congratulations on the new friendship! We will all have to
get together some time so I can be introduced to him properly.*

*Please don’t be too worried about how to be a good friend dear. You are an amazing girl, and
I’m sure he thinks the same. Just be yourself. And darling, don’t be so down on yourself! If you go
into this friendship automatically thinking the worst, it increases the chances of it ending
horribly. His friends are probably just trying to scare you off because they feel intimidated,
ignore them. If Harry believes this friendship is going to be something important, you should think
the same. The school will hopefully come around to see what a great girl you are.*

*Some things are happening? I don’t think a letter is the best way to discuss this. I believe
I may have made a mistake. I debated with myself whether or not I should bring up a discussion that
could answer all the questions you are having right now, but I decided against it. You were so
excited, and I didn’t want to spoil it, the moment just never came. I promise, however, that when
we see each other next, we will have a lengthy discussion about what’s troubling you.*

*I’ve talked with your parents. They are still quite angry and believe you have made the wrong
choice, but I am trying to explain to them the reasons for the decision you made. I believe they
will come around eventually, you just need to give them time. I will give them another visit in a
few weeks. They mentioned plans for Christmas. I don’t know if you were thinking of staying at
Hogwarts or not, you might want to write them about it. You’ll have to face them
eventually.*

*Well, I should get back to work, Hermione. Please write back when you have time, I enjoy
reading your letters! And remember, just be yourself around Harry!*

*With much love,*

*Clarence*

*P.S. There’s a list of jokes on the next page. I’m sorry if they’re cheesy or not very good,
but it’s the best I’ve got!*

After re-reading the fourth paragraph, Hermione felt more in the dark than ever. It was clear
Clarence had something important to tell her, and it must have been about the weird things that
have been happening. Feeling slightly confused and no closer to the answer she was hoping for,
Hermione folded the parchment and slipped it into her back pocket.

“Your parents?” Harry asked from across the table.

Hermione shook her head, “No, it was Clarence.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, “Clarence?”

*‘Of course he doesn’t know who Clarence is,’* Hermione chided herself. “Um. . .remember
that day in the Ministry? She’s the woman that was with me.” Hermione said, trying to keep her
voice calm as she flashed back to the events that had occurred between the two of them that day.
This was the first time they had mentioned it.

Harry must have been thinking along similar lines because Hermione could see his cheeks tinged
pink and he wouldn’t look at her. “Oh, yeah, I remember her.”

Thankfully, to save them from an uncomfortable silence, they were ushered into the Entrance
Hall, ready to make their way to Hogsmeade.

The air was chilly and crisp, and Hermione was glad she had brought her gray hoody to keep warm.
Her hands were stuffed in the middle pocket, loosely gripping her moneybag. Harry, too, had opted
to take a black hoody. They walked silently away from the other students on the cobblestone path
leading into the village.

Once they reached the gate, Hermione asked, “So, where to first then?”

Harry grinned. “Well, have you been to all the shops yet?”

Hermione nodded, causing Harry to frown slightly. “Well then, for now, we can just hit Zonko’s
or something, whatever you want to do.”

Hermione raised an inquiring eyebrow, “I thought you told me I haven’t seen everything yet.”

Harry smiled, “You haven’t.” he replied easily, walking towards Zonko’s.

“So aren’t you suppose to give me the tour then, instead of going somewhere I’ve already been.”
she pointed out, though following him in the direction of the joke shop.

Harry gave her a wink, “That’ll come a bit later. Right now, we can do whatever you want to do.”
he responded.

“What comes later?” Hermione asked, speeding up a bit to catch up with him.

Harry grinned, “You’ll just have to find out. So Zonko’s alright with you then? I’m running low
on my supply of dung bombs.”

She narrowed her eyes at his mean teasing. Why wouldn’t he tell her what was later?!?! She hated
secrets! “Why won’t you tell me what’s going on later? You’re being so mean!” Hermione said,
folding her arms across her chest.

“Don’t want to ruin the surprise.” he replied as they pushed their way into the joke shop.

“I don’t like surprises. . .” Hermione lied, mumbling under her breath.

“That’s just too bad then.” Harry said with a shrug before casually changing the subject. “Have
you seen this before?” he asked, holding up a quill.

Hermione gave him a pointed look for changing the subject, but sighed in defeat. She would just
have to wait until later to find what the surprise was. In answer to his question, she replied
stiffly, “It’s a quill; they’re everywhere at Hogwarts.”

Harry smirked, “Here, try it.” he urged, passing her the quill and showing her the parchment
used for trying it out.

“Harry, I really hate quills!” she complained, but dipped it in the inkpot nonetheless and began
to write her full name.

*“Damn, did you just get jinxed with an Ugly Curse, or did you inherit those looks from your
mum?!* a high pitched voice asked out of nowhere, causing Hermione to jump slightly.

“What the-” she began, but stopped when she heard the voice again.

*“Bloody Hell! I didn’t know giant squids could walk on land!”*

Hermione realized the sound was coming from the quill in her hand. She gave Harry, who was
snickering, a puzzled look.

“It’s an Insulting Quill,” Harry explained, still chortling at the expression on Hermione’s
face.

“An Insulting Quill?” she repeated, glancing down at the feather in her hand.

Harry laughed, “Yeah, see, it insults whoever uses it.” he went on.

Hermione nodded slowly as she gingerly sat the offending quill down with a look of distaste of
her face. “That makes sense, I suppose. They’re not very good insults though,” she pointed out,
looking back at her friend.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “But they can be pretty funny in some situations. Once, while we were in
Transfiguration, McGonagall was showing Ron something on his assignment and picked up the joke
quill instead of his real one. It. . .err. . .said a rather nasty insult, so naturally, she was
fuming. Lectured Ron about how childish the product was, and how such immature items needn’t be
brought to class again. And just to make sure Ron didn’t forget, she gave him a detention and took
twenty-five points from Gryffindor.” Harry told her as they explored the shop.

Hermione managed a small laugh. It *was* quite funny, even if it was about that Weasley
kid. She and Harry shared a grin before continuing their way through the crowded store, stopping to
laugh at some of the funny joke products.

“Rapidly Unraveling Underpants?” Hermione asked with an amused look on her face, stopping to
glance at one of the joke items on a shelf.

Harry laughed, “Yeah, those are brilliant for pulling pranks. Ron and I slipped a pair of those
to Draco before some date he had. We charmed them so a few minutes after he put them on, they would
turn pink. About twenty minutes into the date, he realized he underwear was “rapidly unraveling,”
and he happened to be wearing shorts, mind you, and well. . .you can imagine what the girl must
have thought when she saw pink strings fall out of his shorts!” Harry said through his laughter as
he remembered how pissed his best mate had been when he had caught up with Ron and him later.

Hermione shook her head, grinning, “You guys are so mean to each other!” she laughed.

Harry snickered, “Just a few harmless pranks between friends.” he replied nonchalantly.

Hermione raised an eyebrow, “Does this mean I’ll have to start checking to make sure my knickers
aren’t really some Zonko’s product that might fall apart at any moment?” she joked before realizing
she was talking her *knickers* with *Harry!* Sudden embarrassment flooded through her as
she quickly turned her blushing face.

Harry, too, seemed a bit uncomfortable talking about Hermione’s undergarments. He forced a laugh
before an awkward silence fell between the two of them.

*‘Way to go, Granger!* a voice inside Hermione’s head chided her crossly, *‘Brilliant job
at embarrassing both of us! And things were going so well dammit!’* Still red in the face,
Hermione tried to ease the awkwardness by suddenly becoming interested in the nearest product. “So.
. .um. . .what does this do?” she asked, gesturing at the random item in her hand.

Harry turned slightly red, “Um. . .that’s not a joke item, it’s just an ordinary box of. .
.*feminine products*.” he coughed uncomfortably, not looking at Hermione.

Hermione looked down at the item in her hand and realized she was holding a box of products a
girl would use during her monthly period. Feeling completely mortified, she hastily put the box
back on the shelf as a deep blush crept into her cheeks. She felt the desire to suddenly crawl into
the floor to escape the situation. They were in a bloody *joke shop!* They weren’t supposed to
have things like that in here! But, after taking a quick glance around, Hermione noticed they had
ventured to a part of Zonko’s that actually had ordinary items. She could almost feel herself
shrivel up in humiliation.

Hermione stayed mostly silent for the rest of their stay in Zonko’s, figuring it was the best
way to prevent causing anymore embarrassing moments. They decided to go to The Three Broomsticks
next to get a round of Butterbeer to warm themselves up. Once inside, the duo was met with laughter
and a contagious cheerfulness in the atmosphere. Other students were smiling and chatting, just
taking a much-needed break from the stress of Hogwarts.

Harry led Hermione to a table at one end of the pub, then went up to the bar to order their
drinks. He soon returned with two steaming mugs of Butterbeer. After the first sip, Hermione was
reminded of the first time she had been in the pub. Harry and his mates had been playing on the
stage. “You guys were brilliant when you played.” Hermione told him, a small grin on her lips.

Harry swallowed the warm liquid and raised an eyebrow in confusion, “Played?” he ask, lost.

“On the stage.” she clarified, “You and your mates on the first Hogsmeade trip. You guys did
brilliant.”

“Oh!” Harry said, realizing what she was referring to. He sat his drink down and began to
apologize. “Sorry, I didn’t know what you meant the first time. But thanks, I’m glad you liked us.”
he replied, blushing slightly at her compliment.

“Why don’t you play anymore?” Hermione asked, realizing she hadn’t seen him play in quite
awhile, not since they had become friend at least.

“Um. . .I still play.” Harry said, taking another swig of Butterbeer.

“Not around me.” Hermione pointed out bluntly.

The blush in Harry’s cheeks came back, and he began to feel self-conscious. “Um. . .I didn’t
know you wanted me to. I’m not really all that good-” he began.

“Nonsense.” Hermione cut in, dismissing his negative thinking. “I think you did well. I’d
actually like to hear to play.” she admitted before fearing that she might have come off too
forward, so she hastily added, “That is. . .err. . .if you don’t mind. I mean, you know, if you
don’t really want to or whatever. . .that’s fine too. . .” she trailed off awkwardly.

Harry grinned, “No, it’s okay. I’ll have to get my guitar out and play some stuff for you if you
want to hear it.” he told her.

Hermione returned it with a smile of her own, “I’d like that. Um. . .how long have you been
playing?” she asked.

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment. “I think I started playing when I was about fourteen, and
I was right horrible at it, mind you. I kept practicing, but for some reason, I couldn’t get the
hang of it. Then school started, so I just put my guitar up for a few months. When I went home for
Christmas, I got bored and found it in my closet. I thought that since I didn’t have anything
better to do, I’d give it another shot. For some reason, it just seemed to click that time, and
well. . .I’ve been playing ever since!” Harry told her, recalling the difficulties he had had with
the instrument.

Hermione nodded, “I see. I’ve always wanted to learn how to play an instrument, but I suppose
I’ve never really been dedicated enough to actually try to *learn*.” she laughed.

Harry smiled, “I can give you some lessons if you want to try it out sometime.” he offered with
a grin.

Hermione laughed again, “I think I’m hopeless, but maybe it could be fun to try it.”

Harry chuckled, “You’re bloody brilliant, I *doubt* you’re hopeless.”

She blushed deeply at his praise, “Well, you haven’t tried to teach me yet, I think you’ll
change your mind on that one, trust me!” she said with amusement. “So, is there anything else you
like to do?” she asked, changing the subject.

Harry shrugged, “Well, I love Quidditch, but you already know that.” He told her, making her
laugh. “But, I’ve kinda got a thing for drawing too. I’m not some amazing artist or anything, but I
usually always have a sketchbook around.”

“Oh, so you draw? That’s pretty cool. What got you into art?” she asked, taking another sip of
her drink.

Harry looked down at the table at his mug of Butterbeer. “Err. . .well, when I was in Primary
School, see, I didn’t have any friends. I usually got bullied around a lot and was always by
myself. So because I never had anyone to hang out with, I tried to keep busy by doing things by
myself. Drawing seemed fun enough, so I did that. Mind you, I was pretty young, so I wasn’t very
good. But I dunno, I just never really stopped, even after I came to Hogwarts. And well. . .yeah. .
.” he trailed off, realizing his face had become quite warm while he had been telling her about
getting picked on.

Hermione could tell Harry was a little embarrassed about his childhood, about not having any
friends. She wondered if she should tell him she could definitely relate to him. She didn’t want to
because she was ashamed of it. But Harry had shared something so personal with her, so she decided
she could at least open up a tiny bit in return. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.” Hermione
said softly to Harry, who had gone quiet and had to look up to meet her gaze.

“Hey, it’s not a big deal. It’s in the past. I’m fine, no need to be sorry.” he tried to say
lightly, but Hermione could see that Harry was still slightly hurt that his peers had treated him
cruelly, and he was actually having to go through a similar experience right now, all because of
her.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Hermione asked timidly, wringing her hands on the table. She could
already feel her cheeks heat up.

“Of course.” Harry responded, peering at her from the other side of the table.

She took a breath before confiding in him, “I’ve never. . .see, you’re the first person. .
.that. . .I’ve never had a friend my age before. . .” she whispered softly, looking away from his
green eyes.

Harry had to stop himself from gaping at her in surprise. He quickly caught himself and instead,
cast his gaze downward as well. She had never had a friend before? He had always assumed that she
had friends back at home. Sudden realization that he had never heard her talk about back home or
Muggle friends hit him like a ton of bricks. He honestly couldn’t see why she never had friends
before, she was a great person. He looked up to see that she was staring at him, a fearful look in
her large brown eyes. He swallowed uncomfortably, “That’s too bad. Everyone at your old school are
missing out on a lot because you’re a really great friend.” Harry told her awkwardly.

A ghost of a smile appeared on her lips. She looked around wistfully before replying, “I doubt
they’re missing out on much. It’s probably just as well that things were like they were. I didn’t
have time for friends anyway, I was always too busy studying or trying to learn magic. I suppose it
would be rather hard to explain to a friend why I have spell books and a cauldron in my room.” She
said with a hint of amusement, slowly turning her almost-empty mug of Butterbeer around on the
table.

Harry wanted to say something, but didn’t know what. He suddenly felt closer to her because she
had told him a bit about her childhood. He could tell she needed to talk about it, maybe share a
few stories even to get them off her chest, but he knew this wasn’t the place for that. They needed
a more intimate setting, not somewhere that was loud with laughter and crowded with people. So
instead, he decided to steer away from the dangerous waters of her never having friends and asked,
“Are you close to your parents?”

All the pent-up pain that he had caught a glimpse of suddenly disappeared and was replaced with
a look of bitterness. “Yes, I’ve always been rather close to my parents. They’re dentists. My
father is wonderful, a lot of people say I’m practically a spitting image of him. My mother is
pretty great too, though we used to fight sometimes because I’m not like she is.” Hermione
admitted, looking up to see Harry looking at her attentively. She suddenly got a weird feeling to
have someone listening so intently to her. It was something she wasn’t familiar with. “Sometimes, I
almost think she resents me a bit because I’m not popular with loads of friends, but instead rather
plain and kinda weird. She had always been very social, so I suppose I’m a tad of a
disappointment.” Hermione said regretfully before draining the last of her Butterbeer.

Once again, Harry was at a loss for words. He could tell she had so many feelings and emotions
going on inside her. He wasn’t very good when it came to emotions. “Your mother should be proud to
have you as a daughter. You’re not plain or weird at all.” he assured her, cracking a small smile.
“I’m sure your mum will see that in time, and if she somehow misses it, then sorry, but she doesn’t
even deserve to have such wonderful girl as a daughter.” He honestly couldn’t fathom why someone
would even *think* about categorizing her as being a disappointment. On the contrary, she was
quite the opposite. “Do you miss them?” he asked, figuring she must miss them terribly.

Hermione nodded, “Yes, a lot more than I thought I would. It kills me that they’re so angry with
me right now. I mean, they just can’t accept that magic is a big part of my life.” she muttered in
frustration. Why couldn’t her parents just support her? She was going through a time in her life
where she needed as much encouragement she could get, and her own parents weren’t behind her.

Harry gave her a puzzled look, “Angry with you? Why would they be angry with you?” he asked.

She bit her lip guiltily and was silent for a minute before responding in a voice that was
tinged with a hint of shame, “They. . .well see, the thing is. . .they’ve never allowed me to come
to Hogwarts, which never bothered me before now. I was fine with Clarence assisting me in my
learning, I didn’t need to go to a magic school. But I dunno, when it hit me that this was my last
chance to attend the school, I couldn’t help but seize it. I confided my thoughts in Clarence, and
she agreed with me. My parents, however, were different. They told me I couldn’t go and wouldn’t
change their minds.” She met Harry’s gaze from across the table, seeing again that he was giving
her his full attention. He smiled warmly at her in a coaxing gesture to continue. “You’ve got to
understand, Harry, that I’ve been working very hard ever since I was fourteen to learn what I know.
I wanted to actually graduate from Hogwarts, kinda in a pay off I suppose, . . .Clarence helped me
get everything I would need, all my supplies and such. With her support and thorough teaching, I
was well-prepared for an examination with the headmaster. He err. . .actually seemed a bit
impressed with my abilities, told me I was definitely good enough. And well, on the First, I told
my parents I was going to the library and that I’d be back soon. I hated lying to them, but I knew
they wouldn’t have let me out of the house if they really knew what I was up to. Clarence and I
came to King’s Cross Station, I boarded the Hogwarts Express, and was on my way here. I sent a
letter to my parents before the train left, of course, to tell them where I was going and why. And
I’ve sent them a few letters since, trying to convince them that I’m doing what I need to do. They
wrote back, telling me how disobedient I am and how much trouble I’m asking for. It’s all a rather
bad situation at the moment.” she finished, heaving a sigh after her long account of the events
that led to her parents being angry with her.

Harry couldn’t believe what she was telling him. Her own parents weren’t supporting such a big
decision she had made? Did they know everything she had been going through, and were they aware of
how they were only making things even harder on her? And she could get still stand strong through
all this? He shook his head slowly. She was clearly a very impressive girl, he knew. First she
defied her parents’ wishes and had come to Hogwarts anyway. *Then* she had to put up will all
the trouble to students had thrown at her, from physical hazing to getting emotionally attacked day
after day. “You’re amazing.” Harry decided, sending her a look of awe.

Whatever response Hermione had been expecting, this clearly wasn’t it. She look at him
incredulously before stuttering a very surprised, “W-what?”

Harry gave her a large grin, “You are bloody fucking amazing.” He repeated in admiration as he
continued to stare at her in respect.

Hermione quickly shook her head as she felt her flaming face heat up, “No, no, no. I’m
*far* from amazing or anything of the sort.” she replied, still stuttering slightly. What was
he on about? She was not amazing in the slightest, she was just. . .Hermione, Just Hermione,
nothing special, and definitely nothing amazing.

“You’re selling yourself short, Hermione. All that stuff going on at home, then all the
oppression here you’ve received. Not to mention how you help the younger students and that you’re
the top of the entire school, despite this being your first year of actual magic schooling. . .all
I can say is *damn*. I honestly cannot see how you do it.” Harry told her truthfully, a
stunned look on his face.

Hermione was blushing a brilliant scarlet now. She had never been so flattered before, and this
was all coming from *Harry Potter*, someone that was supposed to be a rival. Wanting to get
the attention off of her, Hermione asked him about his own parents and his relationship with
them.

He shrugged in response. “Well, my dad works in the Ministry and my mum is a Healer at St.
Mungo’s. They’re both usually busy with work, but I suppose our relationship is good enough. I
mean, I try to please them and all, but it’s now always easy. My dad wants me to go into playing
pro on the Quidditch Pitch while my mom wants me to go into the Ministry of Magic. We all sort of
clash on that because they keep telling me to pick a future. I just don’t feel mature enough to
make this sort of decision, you know? They don’t seem to understand though.” Harry said,
remembering how his parents were always pushing him towards careers.

Hermione nodded in understanding, “Sounds tough. I’m sorry your parents are like that. I can see
where they’re coming from, you *do* need to start thinking about your future and a career, but
they shouldn’t be pressuring you like that. It’s your life, after all, you should get to choose
what you want to do with it and they should respect that.”

Harry grinned and couldn’t help but begin to think that Hermione was getting very easy to talk
to.

The pair of them sat and chatted for a little while longer before leaving to explore the rest of
Hogsmeade. They went into Honeydukes and Harry made sure he was stocked up on sweets.

“Honestly, Harry, I don’t really think you need *that* much candy! You’ll never eat it
all!” she exclaimed, eyeing the bagfuls of sweets that were weighing him down with wide eyes.

“Nonsense, Hermione. This is the kind of food I live on. And anyway, how can you pick out the
best kinds for next time unless you try them all?” He questioned reasonably.

“But you already know what they all taste like, you’ve hand them before!” Hermione shot back
with a laugh.

“Aye, but *you* haven’t tried them all yet.” He replied smoothly with a grin.

“And I have no intention to either! My parents are *dentists*. They would probably go
nutters if they saw all those sweets you’re planning on eating!” Hermione *still* couldn’t get
over it. He was carrying three bags full of candy, and when comparing to the small half a bag in
her hand, she was almost in shock. *No one* needed that much candy!

“Just so you know, Miss Hermione Granger, I have plans of turning you into a junk food junkie,
just you wait!” Harry warned her, making Hermione’s eyes widen.

“You most certainly will *not*!” she replied incredulously.

He laughed and gave her a knowing smile, “We’ll see.”

Because of their bulky bags, the duo cut their time spend at the Shrieking Shack to just a few
minutes before hurrying back to the castle. They quickly dropped their things off in their
respectful dormitories before heading to the Great Hall for dinner.

There was a pleasant smile on Hermione’s face the entire time. Harry had been right, she
*did* have a blast today. She had had fun with Clarence, but this time had been different.
Hanging out with Harry, all their chatting. . .it felt so *normal*. This was what friends did.
She just hoped he had at least had a fraction of the fun she had had. Hermione knew she could never
be as close and fun as those Ron and Draco blokes, but she hoped she was at least a half-way decent
substitute.

“Today was brilliant.” Hermione remarked over dinner from her side of the table. Harry looked up
from his food and grinned.

“Yeah, I had a lot of fun. And it’s not over, mind you.” He said mysteriously, spiking
Hermione’s curiosity.

Hermione cocked an inquisitive eyebrow as she remembered that something was supposed to come a
“bit later.” “Does this have something to do with what you wouldn’t tell me about while we were in
Hogsmeade?” she asked slowly.

H only grinned in response and returned his attention back to his food, leaving a very curious
Hermione Granger watching him suspiciously.

The rest of dinner was mostly silent while Hermione tried to figure out what he had planned
while Harry mentally thought out the finishing details of his surprise. He just hoped she would
enjoy it. They still weren’t very close, but from what he knew of her, he thought she would like it
(as long as she didn’t mind breaking a few rules, that is.)

Hermione was still puzzled about his plans even after dinner. It was getting late and she
briefly wondered if the surprise would be happening tonight. Judging by Harry’s unconcerned
behavior and the time, it looked as if it would be some other time. Either way, she felt excitement
bubble pleasurably inside her as she waited.

By 11:30, Hermione was beginning to think that the surprise *wasn’t* happening that night.
She tossed a slightly disappointed glance in Harry’s direction while they sat in the Common Room.
He paid no mind to her because he was absorbed in a Quidditch magazine. She stood and was about to
call it a night when Harry looked up.

“Where are you going?” he asked innocently.

“Bed, it’s already half-past eleven. I’ll see you tomorrow. Once again, thanks for the great
day, it’s been so amazing.” she replied, stretching.

His emerald eyes widened slightly in alarm before he insisted, “Stay up with me for just a
little while longer? Please?”

Hermione felt bad because he had been so nice to her and showed her a good time. She gave him a
weary look. “Harry, it’s late, we had a long day-”

“Just thirty more minutes? ‘Til midnight?” Harry pleaded, looking up at her.

Hermione gave a small laugh, “You’re reading a magazine, *honestly*, why do I need to be
here?” she asked.

He quickly closed the magazine and tossed it on the floor. “We can study if you want, I just
don’t want to go to bed quite yet.” He replied nonchalantly.

She sighed and gave in. “Alright, but I’m going to bed at midnight.” Hermione told him in a mock
stern voice.

Harry grinned, “Excellent.”

For the next half hour or so, the two of them looked over Transfiguration notes for the test
they would be having that upcoming Tuesday. The small group of night-owls slowing began to
disappear up the stairs until finally, it was just the two of them left.

Harry unceremoniously closed his notebook and tossed it on his book bag and stood. “Ready?” he
asked, ducking under the table to pull out a small duffle bag.

Hermione gave him a weird look, “Been watching the clock, have you?”

“We’re the only ones left now.” he replied.

She raised an eyebrow, “Was that your goal? To be the last ones in the Common Room?”

“Well, I wanted to wait until was just us before we left. Shall we go now?” He asked.

“Go where?” Hermione questioned, confused. Weren’t they going to bed now?

He grinned, “That’s the surprise! I can’t very well tell you *now,* can I? You’ll just have
to see!” He replied as his grin changed into a smirk.

“At *midnight*?! Are you mad?” Hermione asked incredulously, casting a glance at the large
clock on the wall that had just chimed midnight.

“Yes,” came Harry’s reply as he bent down to unzip the bag and produced a folded piece of
parchment and a silvery cloak. Hermione watched as he tapped the old parchment with his wand and
said in a clear voice, “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.”

“Harry, what-” Hermione stopped when she saw dark spidery lines in green ink appear on the
parchment, creating what look like a map of some sort.

“It’s called the Marauder’s Map.” He explained, answering her questioning gaze as he let her
take a closer look. “It’s of the school. It shows everyone here, where they are, and even plenty of
secret rooms and passages. Shall we?” he asked with a cocky grin.

“Shall we *what*?” Hermione asked slowly, looking uncertain.

“We’re going to take a walk.” Harry told her simply, unfolding the silvery cloak.

Hermione looked at him as if he was gone nutters. “We can’t just go walking around!” she
exclaimed as if the very idea was preposterous, which to her, it was.

“Of course we can.” He said easily.

“We’ll get caught!” Hermione shrieked softly. *This* was his idea of a surprise?!

He shook his head. “Of course we won’t. I’m good at not getting caught, trust me. Also, I’ve got
this map, so we’ll have a heads up if anyone is patrolling close to us, *and* I’ve got this
Invisibility Cloak so no one can see us even if we *do* have run-in with someone.” Harry
explained to her before throwing the cloak over his body to demonstrate what it did.

Hermione gasped when Harry suddenly disappeared. “Harry? “ she called out nervously, looking
around uneasily. She felt a tap on her shoulder behind her and turned around to see Harry whip off
the cloak and reappear.

“See? There’s no way we can get caught.” He said confidently with a smirk.

Hermione was still hesitant. It sounded like a fun adventure, but it would be breaking the
rules, and what if somehow they *did* get caught? Would it be severe enough to get expelled?
*‘Harry said he does it all the time. .’* the daring voice inside of her head reasoned, but
the cautious part of her said it wasn’t such a good idea. “Harry, I dunno. . .” she began
uneasily.

“Don’t you trust me, Hermione?” he asked softly, slightly hurt that she was so doubtful. “Do you
honestly think I would put you in a situation that could get you in a lot of trouble for a trivial
reason if I wasn’t positive that we could be okay?” he paused for a second then added, “But if you
feel uncomfortable or anything, I mean, we don’t have to go. We can always do this some other time,
it’s not like we can only see it at night, it’s just more. . .I dunno. But yeah, if you don’t want
to go, I’ll understand.” He reassured her, not wanting her to think he was trying to pressure her
or anything.

She bit her lip. The idea *did* sound tempting, a little reckless. A small grin
involuntarily on her lips. “Of course I trust you.” she assured him. She stared into his bright
green eyes that seemed to sparkle with an alluring mischief. Would he think she was dull if she
didn’t go? No, he said he would understand. He wasn’t like that, he would respect her decision
either way. That was the kind of guy he was.

“Like I said, you don’t have to go, but I really think you would have a good time. Please,
Hermione?” he asked softly.

All her worried seemed to instantly melt away as she caved. Before she could even think, her
voice replied, “Alright.” and a shy grin appeared on her lips, which he returned.

“Excellent.” He reached into the duffle bag again and pulled out two hoodies, one gray and one
black. “You might want to wear one of these, it’s pretty cold outside.” he said with a wink and
held both sweatshirts out so she could pick one

Blushing slightly, Hermione quickly grabbed a sweatshirt which happened to be the gray one,
similar to the one she had worn earlier that day and wordlessly pulled it on over her shirt. The
hoody smelt fresh and distinctly like the scent she had accustomed to being Harry’s. He pulled on
the remaining black one. The cloak was small, so they had to stand close together for it to cover
both of them. After skimming the map, the two of them exited through the Portrait Hole and began to
slowly make their way down the corridors.

They walked silently, their footsteps barely audible. Fortunately, they made it to the Entrance
Hall without meeting anyone. However , they weren’t so lucky when Filch seemed to pop out of
nowhere with Mrs. Norris by his side. Harry held back a curse while Hermione’s eyes grew wide as
she panicked and thoughts of getting caught began to cloud her mind. Harry could see her frightened
face for the moonlight that was pouring in through the high windows. He gave her a small smile to
calm her down and guided them close to a wall, out of Filch’s way.

Filch was coming closer though. The pair of them backed up until they were flat against the
wall. Hermione tripped on an uneven stone as they tried to slowly inch away from the caretaker, and
she quickly grabbed Harry’s sleeve to keep her balance. Harry seized her hand to help her stand
upright, but as soon as their hands touched, Harry felt a searing pain on his forehead. He cursed
and quickly let go of her to clutch his forehead as the pain began to subside. Hermione wasn’t able
to stable herself and fell to the ground, causing a loud clatter.

Filch, who had turned around and started in the opposite direction, heard this and quickly
whipped around. “Who’s there?!” he called almost gleefully because he was sure he caught a student
out of bed.

Harry saw that Hermione’s eyes had gone even wider and she looked fearful. He slowly eased out
of the cloak, making sure it still covered Hermione. He heard her make a small noise in protest but
he just pushed the duffle bag and map into her hands.

He stepped out of the shadows that were covering them before Filch could make it all the way to
them.

“Potter!” he said nastily.

Harry tried to look innocent. “Fancy meeting you here, Filch.”

His lip curled, “Out of bed? This is quite a habit of yours.”

Harry shrugged, “I’m just patrolling, it’s part of my duties as Head Boy.” he lied, shifting
slightly to make sure he was in front of the caretaker in case he decided to go in Hermione’s
direction.

Filch looked at him disbelievingly. “Patrolling? What’s so important in those shadows that
needed ‘patrolling,’ Potter?”

“I was just checking things out, making sure no one was having a snogfest in the corner
anything. It’s all clear. I heard a boy say he was going to bring his girlfriend either here or to
the closet by the Transfiguration classroom tonight, so I thought I should have a look. I guess I
picked the wrong one.” Harry said with a fake wistful looking, hoping Filch would take the
bait.

“The closet by the Transfiguration classroom you say?” the Squib asked, to which Harry nodded.
“I’ll go have a look then.” He cast Harry a suspicious glance, but before he could say anything,
Harry gave a fake yawn.

“Well, you go do that, I think I’m gonna head up to Gryffindor Tower, it’s pretty late.”

Filch sneered, “You go to sleep, and just leave all the dirty work to me troublemaker. I may not
have gotten you this time, but I will, you’ve been nothing but a thorn in my side ever since you
first walked through those doors. I know it was you who set those dung bombs off in the corridor
yesterday.”

Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. It had, in fact, *not* been him that time. “It
wasn’t me that time, honest. But I’m going to bed, you better hurry up to that closet before those
two students are done. We don’t want to miss the chance of catching rule breakers, gotta crack down
on this school. If you let them get away, who knows what they’ll do next! Hell, they might even
start terrorizing Mrs. Norris!” Harry warned, and watched as the caretaker rushed off. Mrs. Norris
gave the shadows where Hermione stood one last look before glaring at Harry for his comment. This
wasn’t the first time Harry got the feeling the cat could see through Invisibility Cloaks.

“Go on, follow your idiot of a master.” Harry coaxed before lunging quickly in the cat’s
direction, making her meow softly and take off after Filch.

He stood there for a second before turning around to Hermione. She slowly took off the cloak,
her face slightly pale. He grinned at her reassuringly. “No worries, the man is about as stupid as
they get. He is so easy to trick.” Hermione gave him a small smile, but Harry could still tell she
was worried. “Do you want to keep going, or do you just want to head back?” Harry asked, hoping she
would choose the former.

Hermione smiled, “Well, we’re already down here, might as well keep going.”

“Awesome, let’s go then.” Without bothering to put the cloak back on, Harry shoved it in the
duffle bag and led Hermione to the Entrance Doors. The door creaked opened and soon, the pair of
them were making their way across the grounds.

No longer worried about being silent, Hermione asked, “Where are we going?” as they passed the
Care of Magical Creatures professor’s dark hut.

“It’s a surprise.” Harry replied, taking out his wand and igniting the tip; Hermione followed
suit.

Hermione tugged Harry’s hoody tighter around her as the chilly air began to get to her. After a
few more minutes, Hermione realized they were standing near the Whomping Willow. As Harry drew
closer, Hermione instinctively grabbed the strap of his duffle bag to stop him. “Harry, it’s the
Whomping Willow, we shouldn’t get any closer!” Hermione said earnestly, but Harry told her it was
okay. She watched worriedly as he neared the tree. Its branches began to come alive threateningly,
but Harry easily dodged their attack. H grabbed a long branch and pressed it against a large knot
on the tree’s thick trunk. The violent branches suddenly froze. Hermione lookin on in astonishment.
Harry motioned for her to join him over by the now-harmless tree.

“Alright, see this hole?” Harry asked, pointing at a large opening about the size of a grown man
at the base of the Willow’s roots. She nodded as she rubbed her cold hands together for warmth.
“Well, we’ve got to go down that gap.”

Hermione had given up on asking questions about where they were going and just nodded again,
trusting him. With Harry’s help, she was able to drop down into the opening and soon found herself
sliding down a slope into an underground tunnel. She moved out of the way so Harry could slither
down beside her. Before she could ask, he said, “Okay, now all we’ve got to di is follow this
passage and we’ll be there soon.”

“Alright, how far is it?” She questioned, eyeing the dark tunnel with distaste as it looked as
if it stretched on forever.

“Not too far.” He replied, and they began on their way. The light from their wand tips didn’t
illuminate much, so Hermione couldn’t get a good look at her surroundings. The ground was uneven
and had large rocks here and there, so they had to watched their step.

The ground began to incline slightly and there was a gradual bend they followed. Hermione could
make something out just ahead of them in their wand light.. They had to be close!

She was right. They came across a rickety staircase. They wordlessly climbed the wobbly stairs,
Hermione half expected them to fall apart at any given moment. But the two made it to the top
safely where they met an old door and a strong smell of mold. Harry was able to open it with little
effort, the soft creaking of the door was the only sound that met Hermione’s ears.

“Go ahead, go in.” Harry coaxed her, shining his wand light inside. She looked at him
uncertainly, unsure of what she would meet inside, but she gingerly walked in anyway. It was dark
and the stale air made her cough violently for a minute, but it soon subsided. She followed Harry
through the darkness with only their wands to guide them.

They entered *another* door and Harry motioned for Hermione to stop. He whispered a spell
and the room was suddenly lit with a welcoming, roaring fire in the fireplace and loads of candles
that were drifting in midair suddenly came alive.

Hermione gasped softly as she took in the room. There was a blue velvet moth-eaten couch on one
side of the room along a dingy wall that had yellowed with age and had paper peeling from it. The
floor was covered in stains and was carpeted with a heavy layer of dust and even some fungus was
popping out of the holes in the floor. All the furniture was splintered and broken with deep
scratch marks carved into the wood. Windows were carelessly boarded up, nails sticking out at odd
angles.

In the middle of all the disarray of the musty room was a thick green comforter laying on the
ground with a closed tub on it as well as a few blankets and pillows.

Harry grinned as he watched her take all this in. “So. . .surprise!” he said, waiting for a
response. Did she like it?

“Where *are* we?” Hermione asked, looking over at him, standing there with his hands in his
pockets.

“I would say take a look out the window, but I suppose that would be a tad difficult. Even if
there weren’t boards covering them, you’d have a time trying to see through the grime and crud. So
I’ll just tell you what you’d see instead. There’s a small town outside, but you’d have to look at
it through a fence. The yard is in disorder and-”

Hermione didn’t need for him to go on, it suddenly clicked where they were. “The Shrieking
Shack?!” she asked incredulously, amazement evident in her brown eyes.

Harry’s grin widened, “The One and Only!”

Hermione looked at him, clearly impressed. “How did you pull this one off?” she asked, glancing
around the room before joining Harry, who had sat down on the comforter.

“I have my ways.” he replied, making Hermione roll her eyes. Harry quickly conjured up a white
plastic box, and after a few flame-resistant charms, a small fire was flickering beside them inside
of it.

Hermione gave a shiver as she suddenly felt the chill of the room that only one fire could not
handle and scooted closer to the flames. “What’s in the tub?” she questioned curiously, hoping she
didn’t sound too nosy.

In answer, Harry opened it and started pulling out the items inside, naming each of them
one-by-one, “Alright, we’ve got potato chips, pumpkin pasties, cookies, pretzels, cauldron cakes,
sodas, Bertie Bot’s Every Flavor Beans, chocolate bars, stuff for s’mores. . . And then some stuff
for brownie sundaes in a cooler.” he finished.

When he looked up, he saw Hermione gaping at him with wide eyes and her mouth a gap, “Ar-are you
bloody *serious*?!” she stuttered. “That’s *a lot*!”

Harry chuckled at her expression, “It’s not *that* much. . .and I told you, I’m a junk food
junkie. Plus, it’s not like we have to eat it all, I just wanted us to have a nice variety to
choose from.” he said with a shrug. Did he go a bit over the top? When he was with Ron and Draco,
they usually got even more than this and never thought anything about it.

Hermione couldn’t believe they were inside the *Shrieking Shack,* up to their elbows in
junk food. A giddy feeling suddenly swept over her as her excitement began to bubble. The large
pile of tooth-decaying food they were about to intake (Heaven forbid her parents ever know about
this, or it might give them a heart attack!) didn’t seem too much anymore. This was what she
imagined a sleepover might be like, eating sweets all night and just talking.

As they dug into the potato chips and Hermione’s gaze swept over the deep scratch marks in the
furniture, she remembered what the headmaster had told her about there being a story behind the old
haunted shack they were in. “You know, a werewolf and his mates used to have something to do with
this shack.” she told him before eating a chip.

Harry cocked an eyebrow. “Oh really?” Hoe do you know?”

“The headmaster.” she replied simply.

“Do you know the story?” Harry asked as he maneuvered himself so he was laying on his side,
propped up on a pillow and his elbow.

She shook her head.

“I do.” he said, smirking.

“Oh, pray tell then.” Hermione remarked, moving into a similar position as Harry, facing
him.

“Well see there was a werewolf that went to the school. He got his bite as a young boy, but
Dumbledore admitted him into Hogwarts anyway because he’s just kickass like that. He made close
friends, three of them in fact. He didn’t tell them about his condition because he thought they
would desert him. Every full moon, he would just tell them his mum was ill or something that could
excuse his absence. The Whomping Willow was planted at that very spot for a purpose. The nurse
would bring the boy through the tunnel and into the Shrieking Shack, then leave. He would transform
and because of all his howling, the villagers thought he shack was haunted by violent spirits. In
his werewolf state, he didn’t really know what he was doing, and that’s why this place is a total
wreck. He was a monster. Anyway, back to his mates. Two of his friends were pretty brilliant, so
they figured it out. The three of them had thought it was pretty cool and became unregistered
Animagi.

“They would sneak down here and transform every full moon, then the four friends would roam the
grounds of Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. Actually, remember that map? *They* wrote it. Messers
Moody, Padfoot, Prongs, and Wormtail. They found so many secret passages and rooms that I bet even
Dumbledore doesn’t know about them all!” He said confidently, a wide grin his face.

Hermione, who had been listening intently, regarded him in astonishment. “How did you get the
map?” she asked curiously.

“Well, let’s just say I know the Marauders personally.” he replied with a wink.

Her jaw dropped, “How?!”

He sighed, “You’re going to make me reveal all of my secrets, aren’t you? Moony is a family
friend, Padfoot is--get this--*Professor Black*, and Prongs is *my dad*!”

Hermione gasped in surprise. “Professor Black is an unregistered Animagus? Or is he the
werewolf? Or is your father the were-”

Harry held up a hand to halt her rambling questions. “Moony is the werewolf; the others are the
Animagi.” He said, answering all her questions.

“What about Wormtail? Is he a family friend too or is that like your mum or something?” she
asked.

Harry shrugged, “I dunno much about him. He waa said to be a spy and traitor to my family. He
joined V-err. . .someone that was against us.” He told her, weighing his words carefully, not sure
why. He didn’t know Hermione’s thoughts on Voldemort and supposed it was a touchy subject for her
to discuss. He didn’t want to ruin the night by getting into a big discussion that would make
Hermione uncomfortable.

“Oh. So did you get the map from your father then?”

Harry shook his head. “No, it got confiscated before the Marauders left Hogwarts. I actually got
it from Fred and George Weasley. They gave it to me as a Christmas present in my Third Year--got
Ron a bit miffed, mind you--and when I showed it to Sirius, the story came out.”

There was a silence for a moment as the duo munched on some of their snacks.

“So, do you have any pets?” Harry asked, trying to make conversation.

“I have an owl named Miguel, but that’s about it. I used to have a kitten when I was twelve, but
it got attacked by a dog. I was heartbroken.” she told him, remembering her snowy kitten Ebony.

“I’m sorry.” Harry said sorrowfully. “I know it just be hard, losing a pet..”

Hermione gave him a sad smile. “Yeah, I haven’t been able to get another cat since, but that was
years ago, I’m pretty much over it.”

He nodded.

“Tell me something about yourself.” Harry told her as they began to make s’mores. So far, they
were just making a right sticky mess of things.

Hermione watched the marshmallow golden as she hovered it over the fire before replying, “Well.
. .um. . .I dunno. . .I like homemade vanilla ice cream. . .” she said with a laugh.

Harry grinned, “So do I! Have you ever. . .eaten so much junk food before?!” he asked, smirking
now.

Hermione smiled and shook her head. “My parents would kill me if they saw me right now! Have you
ever. . .failed a class before?”

Harry pretended to think for a second before laughing at Hermione’s surprised expression, “Nope.
Have you ever gone skinny dipping?” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively a few times.

Hermione colored slightly as she quickly shook her head again. “Of course not! Why, *have
you?!?!*” she countered, a suspicious look on her face.

“Nope, though I’d like to before I die.” He replied shamelessly.

Hermione shrugged her shoulders, “I suppose that’s a nice goal to have, right up there with
world peace and solving world hunger.”

Harry snorted, “Actually, it’s just above those two, but same difference, I mean, who’s keeping
track, right?”

Hermione laughed softly. “Have you ever been drunk?”

“Once,” he replied as a disgusted look crept over his featured. “and Merlin did I pay for
it!”

“What happened?”

“Well, I just turned fourteen about a week before this. It was Ron, Draco, and me all at
Sirius’s house. He wasn’t there, and being the stupid prats we were, we decided to drink a bit,
just to try it. A little bit my ass! Before we knew it, we were all pretty well pissed. Ron puked
everywhere, and he got kinda rowdy. Draco was quite the opposite. He just sat there quietly and
could still think decently straight. I was sorta in a daze. It was all fun and games at the time, I
suppose. At some point, I was retching my guts out, worshipping the Porcelain God like no one had
ever before; Draco was passed out on the couch, an empty glass in his hand; and Ron was laying in
the tub for some odd reason, his clothes soaking wet with cold water. That’s how Sirius found us.
He wasn’t exactly angry--I think he thought it was all rather funny actually--but to teach us a
lesson, he made us clean up the house that we had somehow trashed the night before. He wouldn’t
brew us a Hangover Potion, so it royally sucked. Our heads were pounding, we were tired as hell,
*and* Sirius--that bastard--had music blaring just for good measure. He didn’t tell our
parents, which was good because my mum would have flipped, so would have Ron’s. I definitely
learned my lesson and haven’t touched alcohol since, save Butterbeer, but that’s barely potent
enough to even be considered an alcohol.” Harry told her, recalling the disastrous incident. By the
time he was finished, Hermione was laughing hard.

“You guys were so *stupid*!” she remarked, trying to tame her laughter.

“Gee, *thanks*, Hermione, you’re doing wonders for my self-esteem here.” he replied in a
mock retort.

She shrugged, “Well, you were. The truth hurts.”

“Have *you* ever been drunk?” Harry asked, hoping to get a chance to even the footing.

“Nope, I’m a *good* kid.” she said proudly.

“Yeah, yeah.” Harry muttered under his breath with a fake eye roll before breaking out into a
grin.

The continued talking about how their summers had went, Harry telling her about work and playing
sports with Ron and Draco. He mentioned playing his guitar as well, and told her he brought it with
him tonight, so she had him play her a few songs. She was very impressed with his talent and loved
listening to him sing. Hermione told him about practicing magic and all. She left out the intensity
of the row she had had with her parents along with her Girls’ Club meeting.

Harry opened the small cooler that was holding the ice cream. “Alright, brownie sundae time!” He
exclaimed, and Hermione watched in silence as Harry made their sundaes, then thanked him when he
handed her hers. The whipped cream was about to topple over, so she had to take a few quick
bites.

Once he finished making his own, Harry leaned against his pillow. Hermione did the same and
covered up with a blanket.

Harry took his first bite and swallowed thoughtfully, “If you don’t mind me asking, how did you
come to learn magic?”

A look of pride crossed Hermione’s features. “Well see, I never knew of the Wizarding World
until I got my Hogwarts letter. Naturally, I was curious and after much begging, my parents told me
that the Grangers had been a pureblood magic family at one time. They wouldn’t tell me a whole lot,
just mainly that we were pretty much exiled from the Wizarding community. They wouldn’t tell me why
though; I suppose they probably don’t even know. But I wouldn’t let that minor detail stop me of
course. I had always thought of myself as a little weird, so when I found out about being a witch,
I figured it was my ‘calling.’ I didn’t fit in with the Muggles, so I figured *must* be
destined for the Wizarding World.” Hermione told him.

Harry looked at her, slightly surprised. She didn’t know why the Grangers were hated in the
Wizarding World?

Hermione noticed his look of surprise. “What?”

“Uh, nothing. I’m err. . .just a little shocked, I guess. I mean, your parents never told you
why people don’t like the Grangers in the Wizarding World? That was a pretty brave thing for you to
do, to just come here so unaware.” He said, his voice tinged with admiration.

She shrugged. “Like I said, I don’t even think *they* know exactly why. I never asked
Clarence, never wanted to bother her with it. She was good enough to take me under her wing and
teach me. Anyway, a few days after I got my letter for my Fourth Year, I received a note that gave
me instructions to a magical library. I didn’t do anything about it at the time. It wasn’t signed,
so I was a little suspicious of it. But I dunno, I knew the school year was about to begin and
figured that it would be best if I went before then because I had more time during the summer. And
to be honestly, I was certainly quite curious about it. So after a lot of thought, I went to Madam
Suddusk’s Volumes--that’s the name of the library by the way. The librarian, Clarence, knew who I
was, even after I gave her a fake name, said something about how I had the eyes of a Granger. She
said she would help me learn magic and, well, she did. She’s been wonderful. She made sure I had
everything I needed and assisted me for the last three years. She’s been such an amazing friend,
without her, I would have never made it to Hogwarts.” Hermione finished quietly, giving Harry a
small grin that he returned.

Hermione thoughts drifted back to the letter she had received that very morning. She had almost
forgotten about it with all the fun she had been having. She remembered that Clarence had something
important to tell her, something about how everyone was behaving. Perhaps it was something about
the Wizarding World that she didn’t know about? Or maybe it had something to do with Hermione, or
maybe the Grangers in general? A thought suddenly struck Hermione: it might even be the reason why
everyone hated the Grangers in the first place, save Avery and people like him. She had never
wanted to bother Clarence with it before, she never felt that it was too important. But now, after
all this talking with Harry and how everyone had been treating her, it suddenly became *very*
important. She had told Harry her parents never told her why, that they probably didn’t even know.
And he had seemed surprised, almost as if everyone knew. He had told her she was brave and-- wait.
. .if *everyone* knew why Grangers weren’t accepted welcomingly in the Wizarding World, that
must mean Harry knew too! And he was a Potter, so he would probably know even more than anyone else
because of the rivalry and all.

All these thoughts were chaotically bouncing around in her brain, and she was barely able to
grasp them. Her head was spinning slightly. Harry had been here the whole time, and she never
bothered to ask! Excitement built up as she quickly turned to Harry, who was finishing his sundae.
He would surely have all the answers to her questions. But. . .did she *really* want to know?
What if it was something horrible?

Harry, noticing Hermione attention on him, looked up to meet her cinnamon orbs and saw so many
intense emotions: they were clouded with confusion, wide in realization, bright with sudden
excitement, and tinged with slight fear and dread. “Hermione?” he asked, drawing her name out
slowly and couldn’t help but feel apprehensive. Why was she looking at him like that?

Weighing each word carefully, Hermione began slowly, “My parents never told me why the Wizarding
World feels the way they do towards the Grangers. . .”

Harry felt his palms start to sweat as he suddenly realized what she was about to ask him. Could
he tell her? No, it wasn’t his place. She needed something important to tell her, she needed
someone who knew the whole story, not him.

“And I never asked Clarence. . .”

But what if she did ask him? What could he say? Could he lie? Could he just tell her no? He
couldn’t lie, he knew that. And he couldn’t just refuse her either; she had the right to know*.
How did he get in this position in the first place?* “Well, I’m sure if you talk to Clarence,
she’ll be able to. . .” he tried to say.

He didn’t want to tell her! Hermione suddenly realized, seeing through his tactics. Suddenly,
there was no more doubt. She wanted to know, and Harry was going to tell her. “You know why
everyone hates me, and I want you to tell me everything.” she said in a slightly commanding tone,
with a hint of urgency and pleading.

Harry sighed, what choice did he have?

**Yes! Finally done with this one. So, what did you think? Like I said, it’s more of a filler
chapter, but it was a lot of fun to write! Um. . .let’s see. . .I’ve written 2 one shots in my
absence from this story “Your Are The World” and “I Meant Every Word He Said.” The first one is my
first “fluff” piece, while the second is kinda angst but still pretty cool, so you should all check
them out and tell me what you think! Anyway, I’ll try to have the next chapter out soon, and yeah,
don’t forget to review! I hope you all loved this chapter! To be honest, I didn’t really spend the
time trying to find any lyrics because I wanted to get this posted today. Um, the song “Strawberry
Wine” was a pretty big inspiration, especially for the part where they were talking in Hogsmeade
and in the Shrieking Shack, but I didn’t think it was appropriate to put in with the story because
it just didn’t fit. And if you happen to know any song that you think will fit in with my story,
feel free to give me some requests! It’s not always easy finding lyrics for stories, I don’t know
every song out there! So please, feel free to recommend a few! Thanks for reading, and please,
REVIEW!!! I love reading what you guys have to say about my stories!!!**

**Until my next post,**

**Stay Righteous!**

***~Archie~***



15. Author's Note
-----------------

Hey guys! Unfortunately, this is *not* a new chapter *drops gaze to avoid angry glares*. I
know it’s been months since my last update, but I’ve been suffering from major writer’s block. I
started chapter 15 a few days ago (I have a whole page done!), but right now I am so busy with
school it’s insane between speeches and now a huge research paper…I haven’t had any time to write!
However, I am making my story a new priority once I’m finished with my research paper (which should
be in a few weeks). I feel horribly that I’ve left you guys hanging for so long, but please bear
with me for just a little longer! This next bit is a rather difficult part to write and is very
important in my story, so I want to be absolutely sure I’m taking to best approach to it. So once
again, I’m sorry for the long wait, but I will be working on my story very soon!!! In the mean
time, feel free to check out my other stories if you haven’t already and let me know what you
think! Also, I just want to say a quick thanks to all my readers and all those of you that have
told me your thoughts on my stories, every review is very much appreciated!!! Thank you!!!

Stay Righteous!!!

*~Archie~*



16. Answer and Giving In
------------------------

**Hello, you all may have forgotten me, my name is Brooke (Archie) and I’m the author of this
one really cool story called The Potter Vs. Granger Rivalry. Haha. I know I know, I haven’t updated
in….about 1 year, 4 months, 3 weeks, and some odd about of hours and minutes. I’m terrible, I know!
I honestly can’t believe it. It’s just crazy how long it’s been. Honestly, I just haven’t really
had the desire to write. First I was too busy, then before I knew it, summer was here…and Summer
2007 was so amazing for me, I was so busy I didn’t have time to spare to write. Then lately, all my
attention has been on my boyfriend of the last 8 months…not to mention my high school and college
classes. I am so sorry I haven’t posted anything! I know I’ve probably lost a lot of readers in my
absence, but hopefully there are still a handful of you out there waiting for my update!**

**Well, enough of my talking! This chapter is unfortunately rather short…or shorter than usual
I think (or so if feels). I hope you enjoy it! I actually wrote most of it yesterday. I spent hours
writing and then typing it all up. It was insane…I had so many ideas flowing, I couldn’t seem to
write fast enough in my notebook! Well…**

**ENJOY!**

**Dedication: To all my readers that have stayed with me from the beginning! Over 2 years in
and you still haven’t given up on me!**

**Chapter 15: Answers and Giving In**

Harry’s eyes were cast downward, but he forced himself to look up to meet Hermione’s. Her brown
orbs were full of curiosity and apprehension. What was he supposed to tell her? *He* didn’t
even know the entire story. Would his knowledge be enough to satisfy her? No, he knew it would only
fuel her on to find out even more.

“Hermione,” Harry began slowly. “I-I don’t really. . .” he trailed of lamely.

Hermione only stared at him still.

“You see. . .it’s complicated.” He tried, hoping she might take the hint and spare him from
going through all this. He really hadn’t planned on talking about this tonight.

“But you *do* know, right?” she pressed on, ignoring how uncomfortable he was.

“Well, I mean, it’s not exactly in black and white. .” Harry replied with a small shrug.

“Harry, do you or do you not know? Well, I already know you must know *something*, so the
*real* question here is: are you going to tell me?” Hermione knew she was probably coming off
as overbearing and possibly even pushy, but she needed to know. She had never been terribly
interested in it before, but the curiosity always lurked in the back of her mind. Now that she had
a source that could answer her questions, Hermione suddenly felt like this was extremely important.
His answers might give her some insight to the weird things that have happened recently, like
Avery’s sudden interest, Draco and Ron’s actions, and the rest of the school’s attitude.

Damn, why did she have to be so upfront? Couldn’t she tell he was very uneasy about this? Why
did she have to ruin his perfectly planned night? He sighed. “Hermione. . .this is all very
difficult. It’s a very complicated situation. I don’t even know all that much, it’s more of a
he-said-she-said thing.”

“Just tell me what you *do* know then.” Hermione coaxed slowly, forcing him to meet her
eyes once again.

Harry let out a slow sigh and considered for a moment how to tell her everything. After a few
beats of silence, he finally began, “Well…obviously you can tell how judgmental the Wizarding World
can be. They don’t really fancy change all that much. Tradition is a big thing, especially with
Pureblood and rather wealthy families. My family isn’t completely Pureblood nor particularly
wealthy, but we still have a pretty powerful reputation. And your family had one too at one time,
believe it or not.

“You know about the rivalry between our families already, I’m assuming?” Harry asked, just to
make sure he didn’t miss anything.

Hermione pursed her lips and admitted, “I know *of* the bad blood between us, but I don’t
know *why*.”

Harry nodded in response. “Unfortunately I’m not too clear on that one either. I’ve been taught
my whole life that associating with Grangers is a definite no-no. ” he confessed, crossing his arms
restlessly in front of his chest. “I know the rivalry stretches back centuries, but I don’t know
the root cause.” Harry admitted, staring down at the flames flickering in front of him.

Hermione scoffed, causing Harry to look up. “So the Wizarding World hates the Granger family
because of a rivalry that started centuries ago, and most probably don’t even know the root cause?!
That’s downright foolish! Why doesn’t the Wizarding World hate the Potters as much as they hate the
Grangers? They were involved in the rivalry as well!” She pointed out bluntly, unconsciously
becoming defensive of her heritage.

Harry held up a hand to put an end to her rant. “Whoa, hold on. I’m not finished yet. At some
point, the Grangers began to try to pick rows with the Potters. Now, the Potters didn’t want peace,
but they didn’t go out and start duels for the hell of it either. Well, they weren’t as notoriously
known for it like the Grangers were anyway. The Grangers also had a bit of a sadistic way of
torturing and killing Potters. Eventually, after a particularly nasty run-in between a Potter and
Granger where the Granger gruesomely killed the Potter, the Wizarding World shun the Granger
family. You have to understand, the Potters were an extremely well-respected family. Anyway, the
Grangers got more involved in the Muggle World because of their tarnished name. Centuries later, it
became odd to even have a witch or wizard in the Granger family.” Harry finished with a shrug of
his shoulders before he took a large bite of his melting brownie sundae.

Hermione felt her stomach twist painfully. So that was her family secret? That the Grangers got
shun from the Wizarding World because they were such sadistic killers? She felt a chill run down
her spine as her mind quickly flashed back to her recent dreams. Mentally pushing that aside, she
tried to focus on how the unofficial exile had been centuries ago. “That’s terrible.” She said
hoarsely, “But even still, I don’t see why they hate *me* because of what my ancestors did
hundreds of years ago.”

Harry tossed his spoon aside and downed the rest of his sundae before replying, “There’s more
still. I don’t know if you know this or not, but…*Voldemort* was a Granger.” Harry said
slowly, trying to gauge Hermione’s reaction.

Hermione stared back blankly for a moment before she realized Harry was obviously waiting for a
dramatic or emotion-filled reaction of some kind. “Oh.” She said, a little uncertain of how she
should be feeling. Who was Voldemort?

‘*Oh*?’ He just told her she was a descendent of bloody *Voldemort*, and all she says
is ‘*Oh?’* No way! If someone told *him* *he* was the a descendent of Voldemort,
there would *certainly* be a lot more said than just a bloody calm ‘*Oh*’!

“So…er…who exactly is this Voldemort bloke?” Hermione asked awkwardly, wringing her hands in her
lap.

Harry gaped at her. “You don’t know who *Voldemort* is!?” he asked, completely stunned. How
could she not?!

Hermione--feeling slightly clueless and agitated--responded stiffly, “Obviously not, but I’d
like to learn who he is.” Was it that wrong for her to not know who he is? Surely Harry could
understand her limited knowledge of the Wizarding World. Sure, she knew a lot, but there was still
loads of things she didn’t know, Voldemort being one of them.

Harry turned red slightly, realizing how stupid he must have just made her feel. He mentally
reminded himself to be more considerate before he explained, “Wow…sorry, I’ve just never met anyone
who hasn’t known his name.” He ran a hand through his already-messy ebony hair and unconsciously
scooted a little closer to his friend, as if this topic was a private matter between the two of
them. “Right, so obviously you know not all witches and wizards are good. You’ve experienced this
already. Well, he was a bad one, I mean a *really* bad one. I don’t exactly know all the
specifics concerning his story, but I do know a few general things. He was a Dark Lord. I don’t
know where he got his start or any of that, but I do know he had Granger blood in him. A lot of
people speculate that might be why he was so malicious. He was the cause of a really bad era in the
Wizarding World. Voldemort had followers--called Death Eaters--and basically they brought on a Rein
of Terror kind of thing. It was a very unpleasant time in both the Wizard and Muggle World.

“He was a particular hater of Muggles and, of course, his family rivals--the Potters. I don’t
know too much about his days in power because no one likes to talk about it. Actually, most people
won’t even say his name. They just call him ‘You-Know-Who’ and ‘He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.’ He was
just a really bad wizard. I mean, he tortured and killed people for fun, especially those who stood
in his way of power. He’s the reason why most people are scared out of their bloody wits by you!”
Harry declared with a snort.

Hermione’s eyebrows shot up and she broke in, “Wait, you mean they’re actually frightened of
*me*? *Why*?” she asked incredulously. Honestly, why would someone be scared of
*her*?

“Because!” Harry exclaimed, sitting up abruptly. “Don’t you see it? *You* have Voldemort’s
blood coursing through you veins. Haven’t you noticed? Blood is *very* important in the
Wizarding World. It always matters. It determines how a lot of people look at you. See, Purebloods,
like my two mates Ron and Draco, get the up-most respect while Muggleborns, like my mum, get the
least amount. I’m a Half-blood because my mum was a Muggleborn and my dad was a Pureblood. Lucky
for her, the Potter name is well-respected, so no one even thinks of her as a Muggleborn.” Harry
explained before hastily adding, “Not that there’s anything wrong with Muggleborns! I mean, look at
you! You’re the brightest witch in the school. And my mother even, she was at the top of her class
as well. I’ve been raised to not discriminate against someone because of how much magic is in their
family line. Like I said, I’m not even a Pureblood. Not everyone discriminates against
Muggleborns--most don’t actually--but there are still those that do. And those that do are often
the more powerful families. It’s not fair at all. But as you can see, you have a fair few strikes
against you.

“First off, you’re Muggleborn, and like I said, that’s not always welcomed. Secondly, you are a
Granger. Thirdly, you are a Granger with magical abilities after Voldemort’s time. There’s a chance
you might actually be directly related to him--that’s how everyone looks at it at least. You have
magical abilities and are from the same family as Voldemort--you might as well have a sign stamped
to your forehead reading ‘Spawn of Voldemort: Dark-leader-in-training.’” He finished. Harry
realized he was pacing now, but didn’t even remember standing up. He watched as Hermione tried to
take all this new information in. Her expression was unreadable.

Hermione pondered all the new information. After a few silent minutes, everything began to click
and make sense. She realized why everyone was suddenly frightened of her. They must have feared her
since the beginning but just didn’t show it. Once she lashed out at two students, they couldn’t
mask their fear any longer. Also, it explained why Avery suddenly had an interest in her. He sought
her out because she began to show potential for the next Dark Lord. His ancestors were probably
followers of Voldemort, Death Biters or whatever. Hermione sighed softly. She certainly had a lot
of things to think about and consider.

“So I’m hated because of Voldemort?” Hermione asked, though is sounded more like a
statement.

“Mostly.” Harry replied with a yawn as he sat back down.

“When was he in power? Is he dead now?” Hermione asked curiously, still allowing her mind to
buzz with all this knew knowledge.

Harry thought for a moment before replying, “Well, I don’t really know when it all started, but
I know it ended soon after I was born. So about sixteen or seventeen years ago. As far as what
happened to him, no one really knows. His body was found, but it was stripped of its soul…if that
makes any sense. I don’t understand it. Some think he’s dead, but others say he was too strong to
die, that he’s still out there, waiting for the opportune moment. I dunno.” Harry shrugged. He’d
never really thought about all this before. He never had to worry about.

There was a long silence where the two of them contemplated their own thoughts before it was
broken, “It all makes sense now, you know. Like a lot of different things that have happened
throughout the year.” Hermione said aloud, more to herself. She felt a chill shiver down her spine
for a second time that night as her dreams crept back into her mind. She tried to shift her mind
away, but she kept seeing innocent people dying right in front of her in a flash of green light,
their screams filling her ears. Remus. Nymphadora. Lily and James. She felt her head start to spin
as a dizziness swept over her. She tried to stand but couldn’t.

“Hermione?” She heard Harry concerned voice say her name worriedly, but it sounded muffled, like
she was underwater. Other distant voices in her head were drowning his out.

*“You’re evil! Get out!”*

*“There is no Good and Evil, only Power, and those too Weak to Seek it.”*

“No.” Hermione muttered, trying to put her hands over her ears, but still, the voices seem to
get even louder.

*“You’re weak, you don’t get spared. You die.”*

The world was spinning around her. She finally managed to stand and she suddenly got a familiar
feeling in the pit of her stomach. She was going to retch. Someone was trying to steady her; she
felt someone grasping her arm.

*“Avada Kedarva.”*

Hermione spun around, away from Harry, and began to violently throw up.

Harry watched--shocked--as Hermione retched forcefully. He stood motionless for a split second
before coming out of his reverie and rushing towards his friend, concern written all over his face.
He held her bushy brown hair back away from her face, while at the same time he tried to keep her
steady.

As his hand grazed the back of her neck lightly, Harry felt pain surge somewhere near his
temple. The pain was so intense that he immediately let go of Hermione and clapped his now-free
hand over his forehead, his eyes squeezed shut tightly. What was going on? Why was this happening
so frequently now? And *why* was the pain so intense this time?! It had *never* been this
painful. An involuntary frustrated grunt escaped him. Te ache wasn’t going away. He grunted again,
willing for the pain to subside. Finally, once it did, Harry began to gain some composure. He
straightened up and could see Hermione staring at him intently, her brown eyes wide.

“Are you alright!?” They both shrieked in unison.

“What just happened?!” Hermione asked, sounding slightly frightened.

Harry wasn’t sure how to answer here--Hell, he couldn’t answer himself. And what just happened
to her? She had almost looked as if she was in pain or something. She had paled so quickly.

“Why were you holding your forehead like that?” She asked more urgently this time, taking a
cautious step towards him. The color began to return to her cheeks, he noticed vaguely. The
flickering of the fire illuminated her worried features.

Harry shrugged. “I dunno what’s wrong with me. It’s been happening a lot lately. I’ll just
suddenly get this pain on my forehead. I dunno what causes it.” He tried to explain.

Hermione continued to stare at Harry unblinkingly, momentarily forgetting all about her own
personal dilemma as she tried to focus on Harry’s problem. “What sort of pain is it?” She asked
questioningly, automatically getting that gleam in her eyes she always got when something puzzled
her and she was determined to find a satisfactory answer.

“What do you mean?” Harry questioned distractedly, not quite understanding what answer she was
aiming for. What kind of *pain* was it? The painful kind of course! What had just happened?
His forehead hurt again…what could it have been though? *What* was on his forehead that was so
bloody painful!?

“Well, there are different types of pain, Harry,” she informed him, almost as if it was the most
obvious thing in the world. “Was it a *stabbing* pain?” she asked. “Or was it a dull throb?
Maybe a searing--”

Harry closed his eyes and tried to block out her questioning for a moment so he could sort
things out. His forehead? The only thing on his forehead was his…his…his *scar*. That
*had* to be it! *‘Okay, so I was holding Hermione’s hair back and--’*

Hermione’s voice broke through his thoughts, “Is it just in spot? Is it more like a headache
maybe?” She was firing all these questions at once, and it almost *did* give Harry a
headache.

He once again attempted to tune her voice out so he could concentrate. *‘Okay, once again…so I
got that pain when I held her hair back…and when Hermione twisted her ankle and I had to help her
to the Common Room…’*

“Maybe you could go see Madam Pomfrey. I bet the Hospital Wing--” Hermione was still talking
rapidly, throwing out ideas while Harry tried to think.

*‘Then there was when I grabbed her hands during that apology…and the handshake
afterwards…’*

“I’m sure there’s a potion you could take--”

So basically his scar stung every time he had contact with--

“Harr-”

“Hermione! Look, I dunno what kind of bloody pain it is, okay? And frankly, I couldn’t care less
at the moment.” he lied. He really needed to sort all this out, but he’d much rather do it in
private, without her constantly firing question at him that even he didn’t know the answers to.
“All I care about is getting rid of this bloody headache and getting some sleep. It’s getting late;
we should head back to the Castle.” He said almost snappishly, and without waiting for a response,
Harry quickly began to clear up their mess with a few flicks of his wand.

Hermione, slightly taken aback by her friend’s testy tone, immediately felt a sense of
uneasiness surround herself. Had she irritated him? Maybe she was nagging too much, but really, she
was just worried about his well-being. She quietly watched as he finished cleaning up before the
duo trudged through the cold and snow towards the Castle. Both teenagers were lost in their own
thoughts. The only sound was the crisp crunch of the snow beneath their feet. The silence was heavy
and almost emotionally suffocating for Hermione. It was bad enough to learn that she was the
descendent of a Dark Lord. Now, with Harry apparently being upset with her, it just added to the
emotional turmoil swimming chaotically in her mind. She wasn’t even sure why he was so angry! Did
she do something wrong? She was just trying to help!

Harry was by no means a stupid person. After some thought, his brain finally made the fuzzy
connection that the only thing on his forehead was his lightening bolt scar. Also, he linked that
the catalyst that triggered the pain was--somehow--Hermione. Or more distinctly, *physical
contact* with Hermione. It may have just been a brush of their bare arms or one of them grabbing
onto the other for a split second, but Harry realized those moments with Hermione were the only
times his scar caused him any discomfort at all. It had to be. It was the only halfway logical
answer. Whenever they were making skin-to-skin contact, he had a twinge on his scar. Sometimes it
was worse than others. Tonight had been the worst ever.

This new realization angered him. He wasn’t sure why, but it pissed him off that she caused this
pain. He was pissed off at himself and at her as well for some reason. He knew it wasn’t fair, but
he couldn’t help himself. It was like trying to force yourself out of a bad mood when the cause of
it was dangling right there in front of your face, tauntingly you mercilessly. It was beyond his
control.

They didn’t bother getting under the Invisibility Cloak during the journey back to the Common
Room. Harry simply watched on the map for someone on patrol, but kept the cloak out in case, ready
to throw it over them if company showed up. Fortunately, they silently snuck back to the Common
Room without incident. The Common Room was deserted and the pair of Gryffindors could barely make
out the shadows and outlines of dark furniture with the limited light the dying cackling fire
scarcely illuminated. Their parting was awkward and a definite hint of discomfort from both parties
hung in the air between the two. They uttered a mutual “good night” before slipping up their
respective staircases to their separate dormitories with the only sound being their muffled
footsteps gently echoing on the stairs.


*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The only sound that filled Harry dormitory was the other boys’ snores. Harry mechanically pulled
his clothes off and pulled on a pair of red pajama pants before climbing into his four-poster bed.
With the maroon hanging pulled safely closed, he was finally able to shut his eyes and take a deep
breath, ready to focus on the problem at hand: his scar.

Why did it twinge when he was around Hermione? It made no sense whatsoever. There had to be an
alternative.

But nothing came to mind. His scar never started hurting until she came around.

He really needed to talk to someone about this, but he didn’t know who. There was only one
person he was on good terms with at the moment, and she was the cause of this unknown mysterious
pain of his. He was half-tempted to write to his parents, but he knew that was probably the worst
thing he could do. What would he say? *‘Hey Mum, Dad….I have a problem. Every time I touch
Hermione Granger,--yes,* Granger*--my scar hurts. Think you could shed a bit of light on the
situation?’* As clever as his mum and dad were, he knew they’d go ballistic if they knew of his
friendship with Hermione. They always said he was do have absolutely nothing at all to do
with--

Sirius! He could go talk to Sirius about it! Why hadn’t he thought of it before? He could always
go to Sirius. His godfather was absolutely brilliant, surely he’d have a solution to his problem.
He didn’t have classes tomorrow, so he would maybe go ask Sirius if he wanted to have lunch or
something, and he could bring this scar business up in conversation. With that thought in mind,
Harry turned over on his side and closed his eyes as sudden fatigue overtook his body.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Her private dormitory was--as always anticipated--completely empty. The room was dark, with only
a silvery shadow from the moon coming in from her window illuminating the wooden planks of the
floor. She felt tired and depressed. Hermione slowly changed into her pajamas before crawling into
her bed. Her room held a slight chill in the air, so Hermione welcomed the warmth her comforter
provided. Her head was spinning with new information and feeling; she couldn’t sort it all out. It
was giving her a headache. There was so much confusion. All this new knowledge about her relation
to this old Dark Lord Voldemort only added to her messed up situation. Why her? Why was it so
impossible to live a normal life like most other girls? The only things Lavender and Parvati had to
worry about were what they were going to wear on their next date or how many calories they had just
consumed. But Hermione didn’t get to be so lucky. Instead of only worrying about her homework,
classes, and her N.E.W.T.S., she had other burdens to ponder as well: her growing friendship with
Harry Potter, Avery and the now-understood reason of why he was so interested in her all of a
sudden, Draco and Rom and if they are going to try to kill her again, the wretched yet almost
welcoming reality her dreams had to offer, Voldemort and why everyone thought she’d be just like
him (a wizard she never even met or knew about until tonight), the disappointment she’s caused her
parents, how upset she obviously made Harry tonight…oh how the list went on and on. Her worries
were never-ending. Today had started off nicely. Everything changed so quickly it was
ridiculous.

Tears sprang to the witch’s eyes as the full weight of her burdens settled heavily on her. She
needed an escape. This was all too much for one person to bear at one time. Her friendship with
Harry had indeed made things a lot easier, but now she feared she may have screwed that up. What if
tomorrow he said he no longer wanted to be friends with her? What if he said he had finally come to
his senses and realized she was much more trouble than she was worth? Or worse--what if he didn’t
even say anything at all and just ignored her completely tomorrow and went back to those monster
friends he had before?

That tears began to steadily fall as Hermione’s pity party grew more and more depressing. She
missed her parents, her mentor Clarence--everything seemed to be overwhelming her all at once.
Harry hated her, she just knew it! She had annoyed him. She was nagging too much. He didn’t even
say a word to her during the walk back from the Shrieking Shack. She was back to being alone and
Harry was going to go back to his friends.

Part of Hermione knew was being too dramatic. People had little quarrels all the time. What she
has with Harry couldn’t even be considered a row really. Things would be fine, the logical part
said.

But there was another side of her--the side that was dramatic and irrational that told her it
was over. This side of her made a mountain out of nothing but a grain of sand. This Hermione was
almost falling over the edge of all reason and sanity. She was done. Everything was just too much.
She thought she could handle it, but she couldn’t. This whole business with Voldemort and hatred
from the Wizarding World was getting to her. She would never be accepted. Everything was so
bloody…*stupid*! Stupid magic. Stupid students. Stupid professors. Stupid Avery and the way he
had enticed her. Stupid Luna and her begging voice of reason. Stupid Ron and Draco and their stupid
spider. Stupid Hogwarts. Stupid Dumbledore and his manipulations. He truly made her feel as if
she’d someday fit in and be part of the grand scheme of things. He honestly made her *believe*
in herself. It was all a damn sham. Most of all, stupid *Harry Potter* and his delicious junk
food and Hogsmeade tour and midnight adventure to the Shrieking Shack and the way he had come to
gain her trust. It was over. She was through.

She wanted to go home.

All these negative and powerful sensations welled up inside of Hermione. She threw her comforter
off and jumped out of her bed. It was all too much right now. With energy she didn’t know she even
possessed at the moment, Hermione quickly changed her clothes. After donning on jeans, a t-shirt, a
hoody that was coincidently the gray one Harry had loaned to her earlier, and trainers, Hermione
was ready. Driven by pure adrenaline, she grabbed her wand and left. The Common Room was even
darker now than it had been earlier, but Hermione took no notice of it. She hurriedly strode out of
the room and down the corridor. She didn’t think about getting caught. She didn’t have the
slightest clue what she was even doing.

Hermione just wanted out.


*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

*Why should I care?
'Cause you weren't there when I was scared
I was so alone...
You, you need to listen!
I'm startin' to trip,
I'm losin' my grip
And I'm in this thing alone...*

*“Losing Grip” AVRIL LAVIGNE*

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Luckily, she met no one save the ghost of Gryffindor, Nearly Headless Nick. He had inquired to
why she was out of bed, but Hermione just rudely told him to go get stuffed.

The snow outside was falling wildly. Hermione could barely make out her and Harry’s footprints
from their adventure earlier. She forced her mind to remain blank. Normally, being outside on the
grounds alone in the dark would terrify Hermione. But not tonight. Tonight , so much feeling and
emotion was coursing through her veins that she almost dared anyone or anything to try to mess with
her, just so she would have an excuse to destroy them. She felt as if she could take on the Devil
himself if he made an appearance.

The trip to the village of Hogsmeade was a short one, or so it felt. Once she was inside the
village limits, only then could Hermione stop to fully take it her actions. How long had she been
walking? Half an hour? An hour? Three hours? She seemed to have lost all sense of time perception
on this night. Every event melded into the next, blurring the lines of each affair. What time was
it? More importantly, now that she was no longer restricted by Anti-Apparation Charms, what next?
Where should she go?

Home? As much as her home called to her, Hermione wasn’t ready to face her parents, especially
in the almost-lunatic state she was in now.

Clarence. She could always go to Clarence. With that thought in mind, Hermione cast a last
glance around the village and one more in the direction she had come, the Castle. On a normal day,
from her vantage point, Hermione would have been able to see Hogwarts. But now all she could see
was a stretch of darkness and white snow fluttering around. Hermione took a deep breath, released
it, and Disapparated with a tiny ‘*pop*.’

Never, in all her life, had the sight of Clarence’s library given Hermione the feelings she felt
now. So much had occurred since the last time she stood here. With tears in her eyes, Hermione
rushed up the steps and began hitting the door. The door was locked. Of course it was locked.
Hermione ran around the library to a small add-on cottage door where she knew her mentor resided.
She rang the doorbell several times, hiccupping and shivering the entire time. Finally, a light
came to life inside the cottage and relief swept over Hermione. The door opened and Hermione’s wild
brown eyes sought her mentor’s before pulling the older woman into a big bear hug. A faint clatter
was heard as Clarence dropped her wand to the floor.


*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

*I look forward, to dying tonight
Drinks 'till I'm myself, life's harder every day
The stress has got me
I'm giving in
Giving
Giving in, NO!

Take me under
(I'm killing all the pain)
I'm dying tonight
(I'm sick of all this pain)
Watch me crumble
(I'm killing all the pain)
I'm crying tonight*

*“Giving In” ADEMA*


*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Clarence could see the state Hermione was in and was immediately concerned. She pulled her into
the small den and sat down on the sofa. Hermione didn’t seem to care about where they were, she
just continued to sob into the old woman’s chest. Clarence held the young girl and let her cry. The
sight broke the witch’s heart. Hermione was such a special girl. After awhile, Hermione’s shaking
body ceased and her sobs grew silent. Clarence saw that the exhausted girl had fallen asleep.

The woman put Hermione to bed, careful not to wake her before contemplating the situation before
her. Hermione had left Hogwarts, obviously. She did not know the reason, but that could wait until
tomorrow morning. Right now, she needed to let Albus know of this recent change of events. She
hated to disturb the headmaster at such early hours, but it needed to be done. Using the Floo
Network, she contacted his main office. With nothing but her head floating in the green flames of
the fireplace, she saw the study was deserted, as anticipated, except for a large bird.

“Fawkes!” Clarence half-shouted to wake the slumbering phoenix. “Fawkes!!!” The bird’s eyes
opened and it gazed warily at the person who intruded its sleep. “Go wake Albus. This is a matter
of importance.” Clarence instructed.

Fawkes let out a gentle noise of approval before disappearing into a small hole near a door that
lead to the headmaster’s chambers. A minute later, Albus came into the room wearing a light blue
nightgown and a matching stalking hat.

“Clarence! What a pleasant surprise. This isn’t a visit of ill-nature, I hope?” he asked,
straightening his half-moon spectacles as he came closer to his fireplace where the witch’s head
floated in the flames.

“Hello, Albus. I’m so sorry to disturb you at such early hours, but this is rather important.”
Clarence apologized.

“Oh nonsense! A visit from such a good friend is welcomed any time of day. What can I help you
with?” he inquired gently.

Clarence sighed. “It’s Hermione. She just showed up on my doorstep not an hour ago, soaked to
the bone and crying. She didn’t say anything, just hugged me and cried her poor, exhausted soul to
sleep. She’s in bed now. I’m going to keep her here for the night and possibly all day tomorrow.
The girl is gravely upset.” Clarence explained softly, thinking of Hermione’s behavior.

Albus nodded. “Well, that is something. Perhaps Potter will know something. I shall summon him
tomorrow. They’ve grown to be quite good friends.” He replied, a twinkle in his blue eyes.

Clarence smiled. “I think she’s rather fond of him. She wrote me a letter telling me about their
new friendship. Eustace would be so proud.”

“Aye, he would. Perhaps those two will change everything.” Albus said heavily. “If given the
chance, that is. Both have been kept in the dark for so long…they have no idea how much is riding
on the pair of them.”

Clarence nodded in agreement. “Hermione has asked me questions inquiring the behavior of the
other students and other things lately.”

Albus raised an eyebrow. “What things?” he asked.

“She didn’t say. As I’ve told you before, I never told her anything about, well,
*anything*. I believe that was a mistake on my part. She wasn’t properly prepared.” Clarence
said sadly.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it. There is a lot both her and Harry don’t know. Perhaps it’s
time to tell them. Or maybe it isn’t. We can’t protect them forever. But we can’t predict the
future either. Some things are better left unsaid. We don’t know how threatening Voldemort is or
ever will be. For all we know, he may never rise again. Right now, we just have to trust in them to
form an everlasting bond. I firmly believe they are the Two.” he confessed.

The absence of surprise on Clarence’s face told the headmaster he was wasn’t the only one who
had been considering this.

The two were left in silence.

A few minutes ticked by before Clarence told him she had better turn in and she would contact
him again tomorrow when she knew more about the situation. “Until then, bless you Albus.”

After checking on Hermione one last time, Clarence resigned herself to sleep with guilt on her
conscious.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Hermione woke to the aroma of what smelled like a delicious breakfast. She took in her
unfamiliar surroundings at first with slight fright. She wasn’t in her dormitory. The events of the
night before flooded back to her and she relaxed. After stretching and making up the bed, she
sought out her good friend whom she found in the kitchen.

“Good morning, Hermione. You slept well, I hope?” Clarence greeted her with a smile.

Hermione felt instant embarrassment for just showing up here last night. She tried to hide it
with a smile. “Good morning. I slept well enough, thanks. I’m sorry for just showing up like I did.
I realize--”

“Oh posh! It is perfectly fine. I’m more concerned about you, dear. Are you okay?” Clarence drew
the girl into a hug.

Hermione smiled affectionately. This was nice. Oh how she missed feeling so close to
someone.

“How about we discuss it over breakfast? I made your favorite!” Clarence proposed happily.

Hermione grinned. “I’d like that.” she responded, feeling a sudden warmth creep over her.

An hour later found the pair of them with their hunger satisfied from the tasty breakfast and in
deep conversation. Hermione told Clarence almost everything. She left out her dreams and Avery. And
the deadly spider she had been threatened with. She did tell Clarence more about Ron and Draco then
she had in her previous letter. Clarence listened, asking questions occasionally. She told her of
her and Harry’s day the day before. Of their light conversation to the new revelations concerning
Hermione’s ancestry. Then she told her of how she nagged Harry and screw up their friendship.

Clarence almost laughed at Hermione’s rash and hasty conclusions. “Is that all? Hermione, your
friendship with Harry is not over just because of that! Honestly! Consider the situation.”

Hermione looked back and began to ponder last night with a clear head. After a few minutes, she
grinned and slowly said, “I suppose it would be a tad ridiculous,” she reasoned, embarrassed for
her quick conclusions. “I’m sorry, everything was just so overwhelming. Nothing was looked at in
proper perspective,” she confessed.

Clarence nodded in understanding. “Yes, it seems things haven’t been the best for you at the
moment. Perhaps you should let Harry know about these friends of his. Now, about what Harry told
you…” Clarence began, as her guilt came back. “It’s my fault. I’m sorry, I should have told you so
you would have understood. I was trying to protect you--”

Hermione interrupted her, “No, it’s okay. I understand why you did it. Seventh Year is stressful
enough without all this crap. Why add to it, right? Harry told me everything he knows. I was just
confused for awhile, that’s all.” Hermione couldn’t get angry at Clarence. She had done too much
for her.

There was a silence for a few moments.

Clarence cleared her throat, “So, now what?” she asked.

Hermione shrugged. Last night, she was ready to give up everything. She was done. Now…last
night’s thoughts seemed to be a little on the irrational side. She loved magic. She loved Hogwarts.
How could she give it all up? Last night was mad. Now that she cooled off, things looked much
better. “Last night, I wanted to just quit. Everything was too much. Now, everything is different
though nothings has changed at all. Am I making any sense?” she asked.

Clarence smiled lovingly, “Of course. A new light makes everything look a little different.”

“Do I have to go back *now*?” Hermione asked, hoping Clarence wouldn’t send her off right
away.

“Of course not. How about you spend the day here, and see if you’re ready to go back tonight?”
she posed.

“That sounds excellent!” Hermione grinned.

Clarence stood. “Brilliant.” she clapped her hands. “How about a peek in the library? I think
the dust mites have missed your presence.” She teased.

Hermione laughed. “Sounds absolutely grand!”

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Hermione wasn’t at breakfast. Or in the Library. Or outside. Or in the Common Room.

Harry was getting worried. Sure, they had had a little spat the night before, but that was
nothing. Was she avoiding him now? He’d even checked his map, and still couldn’t find his
friend.

Where could she be?

Sirius was gone too, so Harry couldn’t talk to him. He was to be back before the evening. He had
errands to run.

Now Harry was clueless on what to do. Was she going to stay in her dorm all day? He didn’t see
her on the map, but by chance, he may have missed her.

Finally, after getting frustrated that she wasn’t going to come down, he decided he would go up
to her. Obviously she was upset. So was he, but he wasn’t going to ignore her!

Because boys couldn’t be trusted and couldn’t go up the Girls’ Staircase, he has to
improvise--his Firebolt. She had pointed out the window of her dormitory once before while they
were talking about the views they each got from their room, so he knew which was hers. He
stealthily flew to her room under his Invisibility Cloak.

Once he managed to get through all the locks and charms on the window and stepped into the room,
he thought me had possibly mistaken the window. The room was almost bare. Then his eyes fell on the
one bed that showed life. And it was empty. There was only one occupant in the room, and Harry
already recognized the things by the bed as Hermione’s. Hermione had her own dorm? Why? The privacy
would be nice, but sharing dorms with friends was part of the fun here at Hogwarts. He instantly
felt sympathy for his friend. Others must have kicked her out or teased her so much she finally
found a deserted dormitory. Sudden anger towards the other girls flared up inside him. People were
so cruel it was sickening.

He called out Hermione’s name to the apparently empty room and got no response. She wasn’t in
the bathroom either.

He felt awkward and as if he was crossing a line here. He was in her room without her
permission. This was wrong. It was almost like betraying her trust or something. He was about to
leave the same way he had come when a picture on her bedside table caught his attention. He sat
down gingerly on her unmade bed--which struck him as odd because she seemed like the type to make
up her bed every morning--and picked up the silver frame. It was a photograph of Hermione and who
he assumed were her parents. They all looked so happy, with their straight, white teeth gleaming in
the picture. Harry smiled. He liked seeing her this happy.

Finally he put the photograph down and examined the other things on the table: a few pens and
pencils, a tube of vanilla-pineapple chapstick, a red candle, some matches, and a small stack of
reading books. He eyed the little handle used to open the drawer with slight apprehension. After
casting a look around the room as if to make sure he was indeed alone, he slowly opened the drawer.
There was an assortment of junk tidily put away: a few notebooks, a small bag of candy, a crumbled
up piece of paper, some gum, and other ordinary things. He inspected the candy and laughed at the
label that read ‘**sugarless**.’ He picked up the crumbled piece of paper and smoothed it out so
he could see what it was. It had been torn apart and this was the lower half of the ripped page. He
immediately recognized the scrawl as Hermione’s. Her handwriting started out neat, but soon became
barely legible as if she couldn’t seem to write fast enough. He began to read what he soon realized
must have been a journal entry of some sort:

**feel powerful and in command. I have supporters that do anything I ask of them and I. . .I
dunno, it’s kind of amazing. But at what expense? I have to TAKE PEOPLE’S LIVES!!! How horrible am
I?! I just dunno, it’s all very confusing and terrible. I don’t have anyone to tell either. I can’t
tell Harry, I just can’t! What would he think of me then? He’ll probably think I’m mad and
completely evil, but I’m not! Though honestly, I don’t see how he could be bothered with it. After
all, he other friends--that Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy--are positively terrifyingly evil judging
by that nasty run-in we had in the Common Room all those nights ago while Harry was out doing his
Head Boy rounds.**

Harry paused at the names of his two best friends and reread the sentence. When did this happen?
What was she talking about? He continued:

**I mean, I’m dreaming about murdering people, they almost killed me, threatening me with that
THING! Right in the middle of the bloody Common Room too! I still lock my door and windows every
night with every charm I can think of in fear of them and what they might do. Does Harry know how
cruel they are?!?! I’m got to get them back though, mark my words.**

He read the entry over and over, trying to make sense of it. He didn’t’ understand. What dreams?
Where was the rest of this damn paper!?

He quickly sifted through the rest of the drawer, trying to find the other half, but couldn’t.
He swore under his breath. Hermione was dreaming about killing people?! He hoped she was talking
about the dreams at he beginning of this snippet of the entry. She couldn’t *kill* anyone--no
way. And what was this business about Ron and Draco? *What* had they done? Harry’s mind was
reeling with these new revelations. He quickly stood and grabbed his Firebolt and cloak. He may not
be able to find out anything about her dreams at the moment, but he could take care of the Ron and
Draco bit. A minute later, he was soaring back to his dorm window, paper still in hand.

He had to find them. They weren’t anywhere in Gryffindor Tower. He was heading down to the Great
Hall --hand tightly gripped on his wand--when he got stopped by Professor McGonagall. “Potter!” she
snapped sharply. The headmaster would like to see you immediately.”

Harry had to hide his look of contempt. *Now*? He growled internally. “Yes, Professor.” As
he crossed the Entrance Hall to the gargoyle that led to Dumbledore’s office, he glanced into the
Great Hall and caught sight of the infamous head of read hair of Ron Weasley. It was all he could
do to restrain himself from marching over there and demand to know what he and Draco had done.

Fuming, Harry was surprised to find himself in front of the headmaster’s office. He knocked,
heard Dumbledore call him in, then enter the familiar circular study. The familiar sight of fragile
silver instruments emitting little puffs of smoke and purring with a soft humming sound sitting on
tables with spindle-legs came into view. The headmaster greeted him with a serene smile. Harry
could here the portraits of previous headmasters and headmistresses talking amongst themselves.

“Hello, Harry, how are you? I hope this fine day finds you in good health.” he said cheerfully,
gesturing for his pupil to take a seat across from him in a leather chair.

“I’m fine thanks. And yourself, Professor?” Harry asked politely, taking a seat.

“As good as a man of my age can be. I just fancied a nice chat if you don’t mind.” the old
wizard replied.

Harry nodded, assuming the conversation had something to do with this Head Boy duties.

“So how was yesterday’s trip to Hogsmeade?” Albus asked, throwing Harry off guard.

“Um, pretty good. I had the chance to give Hermione a proper tour of the village.” Harry replied
awkwardly, unsure of where this was going.

“Ah, yes, Miss Granger. You two seem to be getting along quite nicely.” he observed, his light
blue eyes sparkling mischievously. “You are no doubt a little concerned about her current
whereabouts, I’m sure?” he inquired conversationally.

Harry raised an eyebrow. How’d he know Hermione had been eluding him all day? “Actually, yeah. I
haven’t seen her all day. I’ve searched the Castle.” Harry told him.

“Well, Miss Granger isn’t in the Castle. She showed up at Clarence’s--I’m sure you know of
her--” Harry nodded. “doorstep in the middle of the night. She was quite upset.” Dumbledore
informed him.

This was news to Harry. “Are you serious?” he blurted out before he had time to think.

Dumbledore chuckled. “Yes, I am ‘serious.’ I summoned you to my office to inform you she is
perfectly safe and I must inquire as to if you happen to know the reason why she is so upset.” He
gazed at Harry expectantly.

Harry didn’t know what to say. Was it because of last night? He felt terrible. He hadn’t meant
to make Hermione so upset. “I’m not sure if this is why she was upset or not, but something
happened last night. We were hanging out in the Sh--Common Room and everything was fine. It was
pretty late, past midnight perhaps. Somehow we got on the topic of the Potter-Granger rivalry. She
didn’t know anything about it or why the students were treating her the way they were. I told her
all I knew, and I dunno, something came over her. She paled significantly, and it looked like she
might have been dizzy. Well, before I knew it, she got sick. I was holding her hair back and…”
Harry wasn’t sure how to go on. Should he tell the headmaster about his scar? He would probably
know more than Sirius would. He took a deep breath. “Well, see, something weird has been happening.
Every time I touch Hermione, I get this pain on my forehead. I’ve reasoned that it must be my scar.
I don’t understand why. I mean, I got this when I was just a baby. My parents were in a car
accident. And I dunno, every time we touch, even if our arms just brush up against each other, it
hurts. It hurt again last night when I touched her. I had never made the connection before. It had
hurt more last night than it ever hand before. She kept ask if I was okay while I was trying to
sort it all out. I guess I was a bit of a prat and kinda snapped at her. I probably appeared to be
angry with her. And I kinda was because I realized she caused the pain. That made me angry because
she’s a good friend of mine. Anyway, it left thing awkward and, well, we said good night and I
guess she left. She looked okay when she went back to her dorm.” Harry told him all of the previous
night’s events.

Dumbledore was silent for a moment. “Your scar. You said it hurt worse last night than ever? How
would you rate the pain?”

“Last night it hurt a lot more and for a long time, almost like I was hit in the head hard with
something. Other times, it’s usually just a pang or throb.” Harry replied before asking the
question that had been plaguing him, “Do you know why it’s hurting?”

He headmaster cleared his throat. “I have theories, but nothing I’d trust saying at the moment.”
he replied evenly. “Scars are funny things. It’s amazing how people can be linked and connected.”
He muttered, more to himself.

“How could we be connected through a scar I have that doesn’t have anything to do with Hermione?
Why would we have any connection at all? And why does it hurt at different levels of pain? I helped
her to the Common Room once because she twisted her ankle. We were touching the entire time and my
scar barely hurt. Last night, our skin made contact for only a split second and I thought I was
going to die! What does this *mean*!?” Harry demanded, though not rudely.

The aged wizard looked at the young Gryffindor through his half-moons spectacles--the sparkle in
his eyes gone--and replied heavily, “It means we may have a big problem.”

**Well, what did everyone think?! I really hope no one was too disappointed. I’ll try not to
wait such a long time before I post next…and I really doubt it will actually be that long. My goal
in by the end of next week (no promises though!). All my friends are leaving for a whole week for a
trip for a class, so I’ll be alone. And my online courses aren’t going to be all that demanding
next week, so I should have loads of free time!**

**As always, please review! I love those things!**

**Toodles!**

***~Archie~***



17. I Killed Them
-----------------

**Hey hey everyone, how’s it going? Well, here it is, chapter 16. Sorry it’s taken so long to
get this written. Really, I’ve just lost the drive to write. I wanted to make this a trilogy, but
really, I dunno what’s gonna happen. I post so seldom, I know I lose a lot of readers with each
post, but hopefully I gain a few with each on as well. We’ll just have to see what happens. I’m
gonna try my best here though.**

**I haven’t had the chance to reply to all my reviews, but I will get to them, I promise (for
those of you who read my reply to you anyway)**

**Anyway, I hope you guys like this!!!!!!!!!!**

**Chapter 16 I Killed Them**

*Yesterday, you really couldn't see
By changing your angle a new world would be
Revealed to your once blinded eyes by moving a few degrees*

*“Perspectives” KUTLESS*

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

“Hermione, you don’t have to do this, it was just a suggestion. I realize it will be hard, but
it’s been months. You miss them, I know you do. And I know they miss you as well.” Clarence said
gently, looking at the younger girl sitting on the couch across from her.

Hermione stared at her fingernails, contemplating Clarence’s suggestion. “I know!” she finally
confessed. “I know I need to go, but they were so angry. Everything was terrible and still is. And
after last night, I just don’t know if I can face them at the moment.” Hermione responded, feeling
guilty and as if she was making excuses.

“You’re their only daughter,” Clarence replied, as if it summed up matters. “You need to see
them. You never know, it might make things easier and may be exactly what you need…but…if you don’t
feel like you’re ready, it can wait.”

Hermione remained silent. It had been over three months. She needed to go see her parents. But
would they stop her from returning to Hogwarts? *Could* they stop her?

“I’ll go.” Hermione finally decided with a heavy sigh as she looked up at Clarence with big,
tired cinnamon eyes filled with uncertainty and hesitation.

Clarence smiled. “Why don’t you go get a nice hot shower and get ready?

Hermione nodded.

Less than an hour later, Hermione could be found walking alone just a few blocks from her house,
the place she’d lived all her life, yet no longer felt like home. Clarence had offered to come
along with her, but Hermione knew she had to face them alone. It was the best way. The only
way.

What would she say? *‘Hello, Mum and Dad, just thought I’d drop in and say hello…how about
some tea? You’re not too upset with me being gone these last few months still, are you?’*

No, that wouldn’t do.

Try as she might, Hermione couldn’t come up with anything she should say. Were there words that
would justify her actions in her parents’ minds? If there were, they were escaping her. Nothing
sounded right.

Finally, Hermione reached her street. Just a few more houses now. Her walk slowed and her mind
became blanker than ever. She was at the small walkway that led to the steps on the porch then
finally the door. Hermione stopped. What would she say?

Suddenly, last night’s events popped into her mind. Not the bad part, just the pure spontaneity
of it on her part, going with Harry like that. Harry drew that out in her. He was spontaneous and
never seemed to have a plan. He always dove in head-first and hoped for the best. He’s survived so
far. Before Hermione could change her mind, she briskly walked straight up the walk and up the
stairs to the door of her house. Should she knock or just walk in? She found herself knocking on
the door before she could seriously consider the options. Walking in would just be weird. She felt
like a stranger. Knocking on the door of the house she had lived in for seventeen years was even
weirder. The seconds ticked by before she knocked on the door again, harder, determined for someone
to answer this time. She was here, and she wanted to get this over with before she changed her
mind. She would not show petty fear. She was an adult. Hermione would be mature and stand her
ground.

Another loud knock.

Nothing.

*Thank God*, she wasn’t ready for this.

Her parents weren’t home.

With a sigh, she sat down heavily on the edge of the porch with her knees drawn up to her
chest.

And she waited.

Her mind buzzed still. She tried to come up with a plan, maybe an outline to what she would
say.

Nothing.

Her mind would not analyze the situation. Instead, her mind noticed the slight shake in her
hands from anticipation and nervousness. She noticed the gray sky and neatly shoveled driveway.
Normally by this time, there would be a snowman built out front, complete with as many accessories
they would scrape up. Instead, the untouched snow in the yard seemed to glare disappointedly at
her. A dog barked madly somewhere to her left. She took notice of the way the sunshine didn’t quite
reach her as the top of the porch provided shade. She noticed the way everything felt so different,
yet looked exactly the same. She felt out of place and felt a sense of detachment from
everything.

Still shaking.

She ran an anxious hand through the unruly mop on top of her head. She was reminded of Harry and
couldn’t help but smile slightly.

The dog had stopped barking and now she was sitting in silence.

Hermione rocked back and forth, waiting.

And waiting…

Waiting…

How much time had gone by?

Wai—

The garage door began to open on its own accord.

A familiar gray SUV pulled into the driveway and stopped short of entering the garage.

Hermione looked up at the driver, her father, then at the passenger, her mother.

She stood up as both her parents got out of the vehicle and stared at her, emotionless.

Hermione stood there before her parents with her arms lamely hanging at her sides in jeans and
that gray hoody, her hair a mess and her face slightly red from the cold. Tears welled up in her
eyes as she almost waited for their judgment to pass over her.

The silence was deafening. Nobody moved.

“Hello, Mum and Dad.”


**--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Harry stared at the headmaster, caught off guard. He raised his eyebrows in confusion. “What do
you mean, professor? What ‘big problem?’” He was suddenly aware of how their conversation drew in
the attention of all the former headmasters of Hogwarts, whose portraits hung on the walls of the
study. They all looked at the pair with perked ears.

Dumbledore sighed heavily. “I’m sorry Harry, I don’t have any answers at the moment. I can’t say
this never crossed my mind, but it had never been a worry.”

“*What* crossed you mind? You’re talking in riddles, professor! Is someone in danger? Is
*Hermione* in danger? Should we alert the Ministry about it? And by the way, what exactly is
*it*!?” Harry asked earnestly, confused by the headmaster’s useless information.

“I think we should wait to have this discussion until Miss Granger is present as well. She needs
to hear this. It involves the both of you, as well as possibly the fate of the Wizarding World.”
Dumbledore said gravely, bringing the tips of his fingers together before him as he leaned forward
in his chair behind his desk. He looked at Harry seriously behind his half-mooned spectacles. “In
the meantime, why don’t you fill me in on the details concerning you and Miss Granger. Exactly how
did all this come about?”

Harry didn’t like the way he was being put off, but what could he do? Maybe it would be better
to wait for Hermione, so things wouldn’t have to be explained twice. He sighed, “Well, I guess it
all started at the Ministry of Magic before she was about to take her Apparation test…”


**--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Silence.

Tears sprang to the corners of Hermione’s eyes as her parents just stood there, staring.

“Mum?” She whispered, her voice cracking, before breaking down, “Dad?!” She asked softly, her
voice high.

The sight was enough to break her mother’s heart. She rushed to their daughter and engulfed her
in a hug. The two women stood there on the walkway in a mixture of emotion and tears. They stood
there for several minutes, just hugging, before finally pulling away.

Sharon’s eyes were red and bloodshot, but she hastily tried to wipe away the remaining tears.
“Oh Hermoine!” She breathed, hugging her daughter once more. “We’ve miss you so much!”

Hermione smiled through her own tears. “I’ve miss you guys too.”

Darrel, who had remained silent and observant, put an arm around both women and started to
direct them towards the door. “It’s cold out here and the heat is on inside, no reason to
freeze.”

Hermione was hurt by her father’s cold actions. Wasn’t he happy to see her as well? Without
another word, the three of them made their way into the sitting room. Hermione’s mother quickly
exited the room to head into the kitchen to find some tea and snacks, leaving Hermione alone with
her father.

Hermione was sitting across from her father on a separate couch. She couldn’t bring herself to
face him, so instead, she looked down at her lap and played with a fringe on the cuff of Harry’s
hoody.

Both Grangers could hear Sharon bustling around in the kitchen, and still, neither spoke.

Finally, the silence was unbearable to Hermione. “Dad, I—“

She didn’t even know what to say. She knew he was angry with here—that much was obvious. “Dad…I
know you’re angry with me—you have every right to be. I realize in your eyes, there is no excuse
for what I’ve done, but please, you have to attempt to try to see it from my vantage point as
well.” Hermione said lamely, unsure of his response.

She looked up to see a pair of two large brown eyes—usually filled with love and kindness
towards her—glaring at her openly, with a hint of disappointment in them. “Hermione,” he began
evenly, “You not only betrayed our trust and outright disobeyed your mother and me, but it’s taken
you over three month—*three* months, Hermione—to show up on our doorstep. Your mother has been
worried sick, and even cries herself to sleep some nights. You’re away; you don’t have to watch
your hurting mother. She’s had to struggle almost daily with your absence. Not to mention the
disappointment I feel. We trusted you, Hermione. Remember when you first asked about the Wizarding
World? Remember our deal? We said you could study as long as you didn’t get too involved. You
agreed to it, Hermione, you *agreed*! Galloping off to some school to learn a handful of new
magic tricks *is* getting *too involved*!” He finished, his eyes flashing.

Hermione kept her head down. She could hear what her dad was saying, and she could see where he
was coming from. But still, he didn’t understand, he never would be able to. Tears stung at her
eyes. Her mother stopped in the middle of the room, holding a tray of refreshments, and stared at
the two of them, both stubborn and determined to make the other see they were in the wrong.
“Dad…I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry! You don’t understand…you never could, just like Mom never could.
Magic is a part of my life, a part of *me*. It’s who I am. Having the power to wave a wand and
make things happen…there isn’t another feeling like it.” she glanced up at her mother, “You guys
can never even fathom it. And Hogwarts! It’s so amazing! It’s something both of you fear, and I’ve
feared it too, but magic is just…I dunno even how to describe it! I didn’t come here today to rub
anything in your faces or give you attitude. I came here because I love you guys, and I’ve missed
you. I wanted to see you so badly!” She broke out in open tears now, “I’ve been through so much at
Hogwarts, so many bad things have happened. I tried to remember the last time I felt truly safe,
and I thought of you guys. Here, at my home. And now I even feel like an outsider here too! I’m
sorry I disobeyed you, but I’m not sorry I left. I’m sorry you can’t understand. You two have
always taught me to go above and beyond, to never give up, you’ve told me I can be whoever I want
to be and do whatever I want to do…you said I can change the world if I wanted to. Well maybe
that’s what I’m trying to do. I am going above and beyond, I’m not going to give up, and I want to
be a respected member in society, both in the Wizarding World and the Muggle one. I want to change
the world. Me going to Hogwarts has really rattled quite a few chains in the Wizarding World, but I
don’t care. I want to bring the Granger family back, and show we can’t all be judged because of
events from long ago. *There is nothing wrong with us, and we deserve a chance just as much as
anyone else!*” Hermione finished, panting slightly. She realized she was standing now, but
didn’t remember getting off the couch. She stared at her father, her eyes pleading, begging for him
to understand. Then she glanced at her mother, who was still standing there with the tray.

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

*A young child looks through a great stained glass window
Watching the people go by
Everyone seems to be wearing a red coat
His mother sees jackets in white
Now he can't understand why does she see it this way*

*“Perspectives” KUTLESS*

*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*

No one said anything. Hermione hadn’t realized she felt so strongly about all this. Is that what
she was trying to do? Bring the Grangers back into the Wizarding World?

Yes, that’s exactly what she wanted to do. This magical feeling she had…she wanted to share with
her children, her grandchildren…she wanted all of her decedents to experience it. There was no
reason why they shouldn’t.

Still, no one said anything. Hermione’s parents’ faces were unreadable.

Finally, she piped in meekly, “And…uh…that’s it I guess.”

Hermione’s father ran a hand through this brown hair, “Well, Hermione, I don’t know what you
want me to say.” He looked over at his wife, who had finally put down the tray and sat beside him.
They stared at each other for a full minute before Sharon gave a small nod, which he returned.
“Hermione, we aren’t happy with you leaving us, no parent would be, but…we see how important this
is to you, and if it’s important to you…well, it’s important to us too.” He finished, looking at
his daughter with such love in his eyes only a father could show.

Hermione could barely believe her ears. Did she hear him right? Before she could think more on
it, she jumped off the couch and enveloped her father into a big bear hug. Oh how she had missed
this side of him!

“Thank you so much!” She cried, pulling her mother into the hug as well. The three of them
shared a hug for quite some time before Hermione finally pulled away. She went back to her seat.
“You guys don’t realize what this means to me. With everything that’s been going on, I’ve felt as
if there haven’t been too many people in my corner. And fighting with you has been terrible.
Everything…everything is just as it should be now! Gosh, I love you so much!” She screeched,
jumping up to hug them once more.

Once she settled back into her seat—now feeling lighter than she had in awhile—she was ready for
the questions she knew they would be bound to have.

“So Hermione…what’s it like?” Hermione’s mother asked once everyone dug into the
refreshments.

Hermione swallowed a bite of her crumpet before replying, “It’s in a castle, next time I’ll
bring back pictures. But anyway, it’s really really big! Ghosts fly around everywhere. The students
are divided into four groups, called ‘Houses.’ For example, I’m in Gryffindor House. Our dorms are
with ours Houses.” She said, which was just the beginning of a discussion that would last hours.
Hermione told them all about her classes and professor. She didn’t leave out Hogsmeade or even
Hagrid’s hut. She told them about the library and even the Great Hall.

They listened and asked more and more questions. Hermione had never felt such a connection with
them when it came to discussing the Wizarding World. Right now, her parents were very attentive
and—if she wasn’t mistaken—even *interested*!

“Hermione…before, you mentioned something about bad things that happened at Hogwarts…what’s that
about?” Her father finally asked, with a hint of worry in his voice.

Hermione didn’t know what to say, so she gave a shrug in response at first before beginning,
“Well…as great as Hogwarts may be, there are a few simple facts that remain: I’m still a Granger,
and the students have been raised by parents who aren’t accepting of me. I’ve had some tough times
there, saying I’m an outcast isn’t far from the truth. But, like I said, I’m out to show them we’ve
still got it, so I don’t let them deter my determination. Most won’t be my friend, and some even
have a few nasty things to say about me, but right now—for the most part anyway—everyone has backed
off. I’m not going anywhere. Their teasing and taunts have grown tiring. Plus…” Hermione decided
this was a good time to bring in the one thing she *hadn’t* talked about yet, Harry Potter.
“Plus, I’ve had a really good friend to help me through things. It’s definitely made things a lot
easier on me, not to mention they have made school a lot more enjoyable.” Hermione said, hoping to
build him up a bit before dropping the bomb.

Hermione’s mother smiled. Hearing about her daughter’s friends wasn’t something she was used to.
“That’s great dear! Maybe you can bring her here to meet us sometime!”

Hermione smiled before continuing timidly, “Actually, it’s a *him*. He’s been really great.
He’s very outgoing and quite brilliant. Remember that game I told you about, Quidditch? Well he
plays for our House team—he’s also in Gryffindor. He is the Seeker. But um…yeah, he’s been a really
good friend. It’s actually a little funny that we even became friends because…well, we got off on
quite a rocky start. But now, it’s great. His name is…er…it’s Harry…Harry Potter.” Hermione
revealed, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

The eyebrows of both her parents flew upward at this revelation. Her father was the first to
speak, “Harry *Potter*? As in…the Potters of the Wizarding World?” He inquired.

Hermione gave a small grin, “It’s quite shocking, isn’t it? I’m not sure how it came about…but
now, we’ve become very good friends. Like I mentioned before, the whole student body doesn’t seem
to care for me very much, so it’s nice to have him on my side. Actually, he was one of those who
didn’t like me, but somehow, things changed. He’s a great bloke. He’s very polite and nice. All of
his best mates even left him, told him I was trouble. He didn’t care. Now, it seems, it’s almost
just me and him against the rest of the students.”

Her parents looked at each other, a little shocked, but they didn’t seem to oppose the idea. Her
mother gave a small laugh, “Well how about that? Looks like our little Hermione has got herself a
boyfriend at this school of hers, an ‘enemy’ at that!”

Hermione blushed, “He’s not my boyfriend, Mum! He’s just a friend!” Hermione tried to convince
her mother, but her mother continued to flash a knowing smile, which caused Hermione to roll her
eyes.

“Well anyway, he’s a great guy, and we’ve become friends. Perhaps you can meet him sometime. I
don’t think it would be totally out of the question. He’s actually told me why the Wizarding World
hates me and about this rivalry between us. He’s been a great help.” Hermione went on, ignoring her
mother’s interruption.

“And why is this, exactly?” Hermione’s father asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest
defensively.

Hermione took a deep breath before telling her parents what Harry had shared with her the night
before. The information about Voldemort had been news to them as well. Hermione didn’t want to get
too much into detail, so she didn’t tell them about Avery and her dreams. Instead, she focused
mainly on the rivalry.

By the time she was finished, her parents were shocked. Neither had realized such malevolence
lurked in the family’s past. “Bloody Hell!” Her father exclaimed with a slight scoff, “Who would
have thought? One of my ancestors tried to take over the world with evil. Now that’s something you
don’t hear every day!”

Hermione and her mother laughed at him, before Sharon agreed, “No, I guess you don’t!”

After a little more chit chat among the members of the Granger family, they decided going out to
dinner before Hermione had to return would be a nice way to end the evening.


**--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

Harry and Albus had talked well into the afternoon before the headmaster sent Harry on his way
and told him they would speak again later this week. Dumbledore was a busy man. Harry left the
study, his mind buzzing. He wished Hermione had been here, so they could have found out the rest of
the puzzle. Talking with the headmaster hadn’t shed any light on the situation at all, but rather,
had just exhausted him. Also, it made him really go back and think about how things were now
compared to how they were before. It was December…had it really just been a few months of this? It
seemed as if the time had dragged on. But really, they hadn’t been friends that long. They were
together constantly, so they got to know each other rather quickly. Time seemed to fly by, but
really, it was more like standing still.

But he didn’t mind. There were plenty of things at the end of the year he wasn’t looking forward
to, so the slower the year went, the better. Graduating scared the shite out of him, that was for
sure. Not to mention the N.E.W.T.S. He still hadn’t decided what he even wanted to do after school
either. His parents wrote him frequently, asking if he had made any decisions. He always replied
with *‘I’m still thinking about it’* or *‘I’m actually doing a little bit of research on a
few ideas.’* But really, he hadn’t had much time to think about it. With Hermione here, he
hadn’t really had much time for anything. He hadn’t played his guitar in quite awhile. The latest
issues of his subscription to *QPE* were stacked on his bedside table, untouched and still in
their wrappers. These days, his attention volleyed between Hermione and his school work, maybe
Quidditch practice and games too, but only when they were actually going on. Last year, he’d spend
half the week planning for his upcoming game on Saturday. Now, he knows he might have a chance to
do a little strategic planning the night before. Everything was becoming so stressful. Not to
mention how he was trying to keep Hermione from his parents.

When the article came out at the beginning of the year, Harry hadn’t really cared because he
wasn’t trying to be friends with Hermione then. He figured his parents must have seen it, though it
wouldn’t have surprised him had they not because his mother hated *‘that rubbish.’* But word
had to have gotten around because his mother did ask him about it in a letter, and he had told her
he didn’t think she’d last the first term. Now how was he supposed to tell them she was his best
friend these days?

He sighed and tried to shake the nasty feelings he was having. He hated the feeling of being
overwhelmed. It was dinner time, but Harry didn’t feel like being around anyone at the moment, so
instead, he opted to have a private dinner in the Kitchens, then maybe a nap. He felt exhausted. He
still wanted to know what all that was about with Ron and Draco, but he figured it could wait
awhile. He didn’t have the energy to pursue it at the moment. So, after grabbing some food from
Dobby, Harry headed up to his empty dorm and collapsed on his four-poster.


**------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------**

After dinner, Hermione bade her parents farewell and headed back to Hogwarts. The rest of the
students were eating dinner, though she didn’t see Harry anywhere. She went to her dormitory to
change her clothes before going back down to the deserted Common Room. She wondered where Harry had
gone. She had checked the Library on her way back to her dorm earlier, but it had been empty. She
glanced over at the stairwell leading up to the boys’ dormitories and eyed it warily. Was he in his
room? Should she go check? No one else would be up there. He had told her the landing he was on and
everything once before, so she knew she could easily find his room. Was he angry with her still?
She hoped not. Maybe he was in the Hospital Wing, sick from being outside last night. Or he may be
laying in his bed sick. She thought about it for another few minutes before finally deciding to at
least go check in his room, there wasn’t any harm in it. She slowing began to creep up the stairs.
About halfway up, she stopped for a second, glanced around and then began again. Once she made it
to the right landing, she began to check the doors for names. Her heart began to hammer once she
found his door. He shared his dorm with Ron and Draco…but she had seen them at dinner, so she
wasn’t worried about them being in here. She pressed an ear up against the door, but couldn’t hear
anything. She raised a hand up to knock, paused, then reached for her wand and conjured up a bowl
of steaming chicken noodle soup, in the case that he *was* sick. It would be a nice gesture.
Finally, she knocked firmly on the door, giving it a few stern raps.

No answer.

She knocked again.

Nothing still.

As the curiosity built up inside of her, Hermione couldn’t help herself. Perhaps he was in bed,
immobilized, because of a cold? Perhaps he couldn’t muster up the strength to say come in nor
answer the door himself? Using this as her excuse, she slowly eased the door open.

The room was dark, so a quick spell ignited the tip of her wand to assist her in seeing. Now
that she could see, her eyes fell on the one bed that had an occupant in it, which caused her to
jump slightly, almost spilling the soup. She hadn’t expected him to be in here. But there he was,
lying in his bed in a pair of what looked like athletic shorts. She couldn’t help but blush at the
sight of his bare back. She slowly crept towards him and sat the steaming bowl of soup down on his
beside table. She glanced down at the magazines her hand that she had to move and was relieved to
find them to just be regular Quidditch magazines, nothing dirty. She put them down on the floor and
cast one last glance over at her sleeping friend. Upon closer inspection, she realized he was
clutching a—what—teddy bear! Hermione had to stifle her laughter. Oh how she was going to tease him
about that one! Not wanting to disturb him, Hermione let out a small sigh of disappointment because
she knew she had to leave. After one last look, she turned around and headed for the door,
muttering a “nox” to cease the light from her wand. Not two seconds later she tripped on something
and fell to the floor.

The noise awoke her sleeping friend, who jolted out of bed and shouted, “Luminos,” which caused
his wand tip to ignite. There, on the floor, Hermione was sprawled out. “Hermione!?” he asked,
shocked. With a quick wave of his wand, all the candles in the room ignited as well, so light
poured into the room. He rushed to her side to help her up, “what are you doing in here?” He asked,
slightly laughing.

Hermione was blushing madly and she muttered something incoherently.

“What was that?” Harry asked, pulling her to her feet. “Trying to come in here and catch me in
my skivvies, is that it?” He asked teasingly.

Hermione gave a huff, “You prat! I was looking for you—“

“In my bedroom, go on.” Harry interjected.

Hermione’s eyes flashed, “I was looking for you because I didn’t see you at dinner…I thought you
may have been sick because of the cold last night and I know you weren’t feeling well, so I thought
I’d be nice and bring you soup! But I see you are perfectly fine, and now wish I hadn’t!” Hermione
said, getting defensive.

Her cynical behavior caused Harry to laugh even harder. “You brought me soup?” He asked with a
smile.

“Yes I brought you soup.” She replied, pointing to his bedside table.

Harry gave a fake cough, “Well…I’m sick…and so I appreciate it. Want to come over and tuck me in
too? Perhaps read me a story?” He asked, flashing her a grin.

Hermione rolled her eyes, “You know what? Forget it! I was just trying to be nice, and you’re
being an ass!”

Harry stopped laughing. “Hermione, I’m just kidding. I really do appreciate it.”

Hermione glared at him still.

Harry pulled her over to his bed and held out the soup, “Here, as a peace offering, I give you…”
he took a quick taste, “chicken noodle soup! Forgive me?”

Hermione tried not to laugh, but couldn’t help it. “Okay, I forgive you.” She said, taking the
soup and putting it back down on the table.

Harry reached over to grab her arm so she was looking at him before saying, seriously this time,
“Really Hermione, do you forgive me?”

Hermione smiled slightly, feeling uncomfortable, “I just said I did, it’s no big deal, Harry.”
She said, trying to come off nonchalant.

Harry shook his head, “No, I mean, do you really forgive me, from last night? I was an ass…and
I’m sorry. I was stressed, and I guess I just…sorta snapped. I’m really sorry.” He said sincerely,
taking a step closer to Hermione.

Hermione stopped smiling now. She glanced downward before replaying, “Yes, I forgive you. I was
being a bit on the nagging side as well…do you think we can put it behind us?” She asked.

Harry grinned, “I’d like that.”

Hermione grinned back. “So…” She said awkwardly. “This is your room, huh?”

Harry nodded, “This is where the magic happens.”

Hermione raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Magic?”

Harry gave her a cocky grin, “You don’t think this sexy beast just wakes up on its own, do you?
Looking *this* good takes effort!”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“I know.”

“How’s your head doing?” She asked, hoping he felt better.

Harry smiled and picked up the bowl, “Want to discuss it over a bowl of soup?”

Hermione laughed. “Sounds like a plan.”

Harry put the soup down on his trunk and reached over to grab a white t-shirt off his floor to
put on.

“So, feeling better?” Hermione asked as they sat down.

“I should ask you the same thing.” Harry said, looking at her seriously.

Hermione gave him a weird look. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m the one asking the questions here, missy. Out of the two of us, I’m the one who wasn’t all
MIA this morning, so it’s me who will be doing the interrogating.” This made Hermione laugh. “But
seriously, what happened? I talked to the headmaster and he said you had been really upset, so you
left?”

Hermione looked down for a second. She hadn’t thought about having to tell Harry all this.
“Well, I dunno…last night…see…I thought we had gotten into a fight…and really, I don’t think I
could handle that right now. I guess I just snapped. Everything seemed overwhelming so…I left.” She
said simply.

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Just like that? You …left?”

Hermione nodded. “It seemed like the logical thing to do.”

“Hmm…run out into the snow…at 2 in the morning…freezing…probably unhinged at the moment…seems
logical to me.” He responded with a shrug.

“Well…it seemed logical last night when it was happening!” Hermione said defensively. “But
anyway…who are you to judge? You’re seventeen and you sleep with a teddy bear!”

Harry’s mouth dropped in a mock outrage, “At least I don’t go sneaking into boys’ rooms, trying
to entice them with soup and love spells!”

Hermione shrieked, “I do no such thing!”

They both laughed. It was good to be like this again.

“So where did you go?” Harry asked.

“To Clarence’s. It was a nice little getaway. Then…then I saw my parents today.”

“Wow, how’d that go?” Harry asked, finishing off the last of the soup.

“Surprising well actually. Things are all good now. Things weren’t so great when I got there,
but by the time I left, we were a family again.” Hermione said with a smile.

“That’s great.” Harry said. They were quiet for a moment. Before he could stop himself, Harry
asked, “Did you tell them about me?”

Hermione raised an eyebrow and feigned a look of utter distraught, “Things are so hard Harry…how
do you think I could tell them about us? I mean*…‘we’ve come so far’*…but baby…you know we’ve
just still *‘got so far to go!’”* She said, finishing off in a high-pitched voice.

Harry started laughing uncontrollably. “You know, a simple ‘no’ would have sufficed, but I think
I like your way better.” Suddenly, his face got serious before saying, “But honey, you know *I
just hate that we have to hide this*!”

<<THAT’S RIGHT READERS! THEY ARE TOGETHER!!! AND NO ONE EVEN KNOWS ABOUT IT YET! IT
HAPPENED LIKE…2 CHAPTERS AGO!!! LET’S JUST SAY THE SHACK HAD A REAL TO BE ‘SHREIKING’ THE NIGHT
BEFORE THIS! HAHA…TOTALLY KIDDING! AND TOTALLY STUPID, I KNOW…BUT I’M BORED>>

Hermione giggled, “Goofball. We need to stop being silly. But actually, yeah, I did tell
them.”

This revelation made Harry, who was making a silly face, become serious again, “You did?”

Hermione nodded. “I explained things to them…they didn’t even know about Voldemort. Now…well…I
guess things are okay, which is definitely nice.”

Harry agreed, “Yeah, I’m just glad things are better. Now if only my parentals are as
accepting.” He said with a sigh.

“Thanks for last night Harry, it was…it was a lot of fun. And for telling me…well, you know.”
Hermione suddenly said, realizing she hadn’t properly thanked him.

Harry grinned, “You’re welcome, Hermione. It was a pleasure. By the way, Dumbledore needs to
speak with us sometime later this week. I think it’s about connections or something, not sure. He
kept speaking in riddles. But, now that you mention last night—I think I may have some snacks
left…” He put the empty bowl of soup on the ground and lifted his trunk. Hermione watched as he
began to dig through it. A hoody or something was shifted, and what was under it caught Hermione’s
eye.

A photo album.

More importantly, the picture on the front cover of the photo album.

“Lily and James?”

Harry over at his friend as he pulled out a few Cauldron Cakes from a sack.

“Hm?” He asked, offering her one.

Hermione moved closer and pulled the photo album out of the trunk. She touched the front picture
as goosebumps crept up her spine.

“Lily and James.” She murmured, louder this time.

Harry swallowed his cake before replaying, “Yeah, they’re my parents. Lily and James Potter.
That’s them when they were younger. That little boy there, of course, is me. Studly.” Harry said
cockily, laughing. He finally noticed Hermione’s odd behavior. “Hermione? Are you okay? It’s just
my parents.”

How could she have not seen it before? Harry resembles his father so well…except his eyes. Oh
how he had his mother’s eyes. She quickly opened the album and sifted through the pages. Lily
laughing. James holding a broomstick. Harry riding a broom with his father. The three of them
together. Harry, Ron, and Draco. Lily and James. Remus and Nymphadora. Jame—

“Remus and Nymphadora?!” Hermione cried out hoarsely. “He’s a werewolf.” She recalled
off-handedly.

Harry was giving her a very weird look now. Her voice was unusually high. Did she know these
people? “Hermione?” he asked, worriedly.

Hermione looked up suddenly, her eyes no longer a chocolate brown, but rather, almost a menacing
black. Her teeth were clenched. The very sight began to scare Harry.

Hermione’s head was spinning. They were real people. Harry knew them. They were real. She killed
them.

The room kept tilting all around her. Illusions of Death Eaters began to surround her. A slight
fog overpowered her senses. Harry was nothing more than a large blur of shapes.

Real people.

Avada Kedarva.

Real.

Harry’s *parents*.

Lily and James.

Harry began to back away from his friend, unsure of what to do. “Hermione?” He asked again, his
voice unsteady.

Hermione suddenly threw the album back into the trunk and started to rush for the door. Harry
wasn’t about to let her leave, not in this…*state* she was in. He rushed after her and pulled
her back. Hermione fought back, kicking and hitting. Harry’s scar was on fire.

She was insane.

Harry tried to sooth her, but he didn’t know what was going on. What had come over her? Was she
having a seizure? “Hermione!” He half yelled, but it didn’t matter. She kept yelling something, but
it was unintelligible. He couldn’t make it out. “Hermione!” He yelled again, half out of pain, half
out of fright.

Her energy was waning and her struggle against him was becoming weaker.

Finally he pinned her down on his bed and she suddenly stopped her yelling. She looked up at
him, her eyes still black with a red glare in them, almost demonic. He held her beneath him, his
legs holding her legs down and one of his hands pinning down each arm.

She was still muttering something indecipherable.

“What?” Harry finally half yelled. “*What*!?”

Tears sprung to her eyes. They now held that familiar hint of brown.

“I killed them.”

**Yeah, so not exactly where I wanted to get with this chapter, but I wanted to post it before
school starts because I know I’ll be swamped with high school, college, and any free time I have
I’ll probably be spending with the boyfriend…so yeah…I was lucky to get this written!!! But anyway,
it was enjoyable to write. HOPEFULLY the next chapter won’t take too long…but I say this with every
chapter, so we’ll have to see where it goes. In the meantime…I have been writing a small ficlet in
the meantime, something very short and easy. It’s called *“Undefined: The Chronicles of My
Relationship With Harry Potter.”* It might actually give you guys some insight on how the
relationship between the two of them in this story is going to be, so go ahead and check it out!
It’s pretty neato!!!**

**DON’T FORGET TO REVIEW!!! Really, they’re the only things that keep me writing these
days!!!**

**Until next time, I hope everyone well and…yeah…all that good stuff!!!**

***~Archie~***



18. Revelations
---------------



**Why hello there, readers of my story! I got a new chapter done, and I thought I'd share
it with you guys. I'm not even going to bother with getting into the whole “taken me ages”
thing cause let's face it: we all knew it was going to, haha. But here it is! I actually really
like this one!**

**Chapter Seventeen: Revelations**

All of the strength Harry's hands had held suddenly vanished as he let go of Hermione,
though he did not move from atop his friend.

Her soft meek voice echoed in his mind. He wasn't sure if he had heard her correctly.
*What*? She *killed* them? His *parents*? Not possible.

Once his mind stopped reeling from this stunning revelation, Harry slowly climbed off his friend
and shifted to a spot beside her now that her tantrum subsided and she no longer required to be
held down. He glanced down and saw that her eyes were tightly shut and tears were flowing freely
down her cheeks.

Finally, he managed to find his voice. “You *what*?!” Unfortunately, the voice he found was
slightly higher than usual and shook slightly. He wasn't sure why. He knew his parents were
perfectly fine. He had just received a letter from them. But Hermione's declaration and mad
behavior together seemed to shake him up anyhow.

“Hermione?” He whispered, his voice still shaking. “Hermione, you have to tell me what you meant
by—“

“I meant exactly what I said,” she croaked, turning so he could no longer see her tear-streaked
face.

His parents? How could she have killed Harry's *parents*? She had never seen them
before, yet she had dreamed of their murder and easily recognized their photograph. It made no
sense. How could she dream of real people she had never met? How could she recognize these people
by name like this? She racked her brain. Not one scenario came to mind where Harry had told him his
parents' names nor had he shown her their faces. Yet she knew them in her dream. How could she
dream of people she never even knew existed?

And murder them in her dream.

The whole situation was frightening enough to make her quiver, even here in Harry's
presence.

She was terrified.

Harry still couldn't understand. “Hermione…you didn't kill my parents. I just got a
letter from them the other day. I don't understand…” He trailed off softly, his voice slow and
unsure. For a fleeting moment, the trust he had put in his friend vanished.

Hermione's rage rapidly returned. “You don't understand, Harry? *You* don't
understand?! Oh yes, I see how this could confuse *you*.” Her voice began to rise and for a
second, she could have sworn she saw fear flicker in those amazing emerald eyes of Harry's.

And she found satisfaction in it.

She continued, “I'm sorry if I'm making this confusing and difficult for *you*. It
must be *so* much harder to deal with than nightmares, threats, killing, and everything else I
go through. So I apologize for not making things easier for *you* when—*oh how silly and
inconsiderate of me*—I was trying to sort things out in my own life!” With that, she stood and
took a few paces closer towards the dormitory door.

Harry jumped off the bed and just stared, stunned*. This girl was crazy*. “What are you
*talking* about, Hermione? Threats? Murders? How am I supposed to help if you don't tell
me things?” He asked, raising his voice, hoping even a fight would stop her from walking out the
door. She obviously had a whole other side, a side he knew nothing about. The side that journal
entry must have been talking about. And she needed help before someone got hurt.

Hermione just stared at Harry. He had no idea. Not even the slightest clue. He looked so scared.
Partially *of* her, partially *for* her, she realized. All her anger began to slowly
disappear as she stood; still only staring. It was all too hard. She needed to tell someone
everything. Not just bits and pieces anymore. She needed to let everything out.
*Everything*.

Sweat began to seep from her forehead. When had the temperature in the room heightened? Her
hand, which she suddenly realized was tightly clutching her wand, was quaking.

Her hand wasn't the only thing shaking. Her whole body was trembling slightly out of
emotion, despite her attempts to remain calm.

Just tell him

Tell him. He deserves to know the truth. He deserves to know why his friend is such a
psycho.

He needs to know.

He only wants to help.

If she told him, she knew he would help her through it, no matter what it took.

Which was exactly why she couldn't tell him. She had already put him through so much and
dragged him through enough drama. He didn't deserve this.

“No.”

Her voice was soft yet strong and defiant. It was hollow and seemed to echo through the silent
room.

Before Harry could stop her, Hermione was already out the door and halfway down the stairs.

Harry stood there, dumbfounded for a second, before scrambling after her. He stopped before he
made it down the first few stairs as he realized where she must be heading. He ran back up to his
room for his Firebolt and Invisibility Cloak.

+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+

*I wish you would step back from that ledge my friend
You could cut ties with all the lies that you've been living in
And if you do not want to see me again I would understand
I would understand
The angry boy a bit too insane
Icing over a secret pain
You know you don't belong
You're the first to fight
You're way too loud
You're the flash of light on a burial shroud
I know something's wrong*

*“Jumper”*

*THIRD EYE BLIND*

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Hermione entered her empty dormitory, her mind reeling. Too much was going on. Everything seemed
to be happening all at once, and there wasn't enough time to sort things out before more curve
balls barreled towards her.

She wanted answers. But no one could give her any. How could someone possibly tell her why she
had dreamed of killing Harry's parents, whom she had never even met? How could—

Hermione's thoughts abruptly stopped as her eyes landed on the drawer to her bedside table.
It was open, and it was obvious someone had gone through it. Who—

Harry's Firebolt leaned against the wall.

“You really need to stop running away.” A voice said. Harry suddenly made his presence known as
he tossed his Invisibility Cloak aside, revealing himself.

Hermione was only slightly surprised, but not at all shocked. Nothing could shock her at the
moment. She was already beyond shock.

Her voice was cold, “Funny, I don't remember this being your room.”

Harry grinned, despite the situation. “Yeah, well, it's not like you've never came into
my room uninvited.”

Hermione glanced back at her table, where her things had been disturbed. She gave Harry a
pointed look.

Harry shrugged. “So you have another free pass in my room and the option to rummage through my
stuff.” His voice grew serious. “We need to talk.” He stated firmly.

“There's nothing to say.” Hermione replied, waving her wand, adding more light to the
room.

“Now I beg the differ. I think there is a lot to talk about here. And we can start with what you
said back in my room. Tell me everything. I need to help you, Hermione.” Harry said, stepping
closer.

Hermione shook her head. “No,” she whispered, and then repeated herself, louder this time. “No,
I don't want you to get any more involved than you already are. You don't deserve—“

“Stop!” Harry suddenly interrupted, coming closer and grabbing Hermione's shoulders none too
lightly. “Stop talking like that, okay?! I'm already involved. I already care about you, okay?
I'm not just going to walk out of your life because things get tough. That's not what
friends do. I realize you…you…I know you haven't had the best of luck with friends. I know you
have trust issues with people, and I don't blame you. I know you feel guilty about involving
me, but it's too late. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. And friends help each other
out, right? Stop pushing me away. Please, tell what's going on. Tell me.” Harry pleaded, before
pulling her into a tight hug, trying to show her he wasn't going anywhere.

For a few minutes, the two teens stood there in the middle of the room, hugging. The display of
emotion broke Hermione down. She really was ready to tell him everything. She was ready to confess
her sins and repent. Be cleansed. Harry would be her savior on this night.

And maybe, just maybe, he will forgive her.

Once the tears were dried up and the two of them were comfortable, Hermione began to talk. She
really wanted to share her burden.

“First, I want to apologize. I know I must have been, well, a right bitch to put up with
and—“

Harry held up a hand, “There aren't any apologies needed. Just tell me what's been going
on.”

Hermione took a deep breath. “Okay, well…” now that she was here, Hermione had no idea where she
even wanted to begin.

The nightmares seemed like a good place to start.

“I've been having these night…terrors. Almost nightly. I don't understand where they
even came from. Well…I do, but don't at the same time, if that makes any sense. See, after that
day in the Common Room, with Lavender and Parvati, I was approached by Avery. I didn't
understand then, but I guess I do now. He offered me power. He said I would have servants and
followers and I would be a Dark Lord of some kind. I think I kinda understand it now. He wants me
to follow in Voldemort's footsteps. I'm guessing his family is part of that Death Eater
thing.”

Harry remembered Luna telling him all about this; he had just been so focused on gaining
Hermione's trust that it had slipped his mind. He mentally chastised himself for being so
careless.

“To make a long story short, he wanted me to join him. And well…I'm not going to lie, after
all the shit I've had to put up with, a little revenge doesn't sound too bad. Anyway,
I've been having these dreams. And in the dreams, I am this…person he was telling me I could
be. It's like a whole other world, where I rule everything. Everyone fears me. I'm a
leader.” Hermione explained, opening up and telling Harry about all her dark secrets. She knew what
he was waiting to hear though. She took a deep breath, “And that's where I killed…them.”

Harry didn't need for her to elaborate on the identities of *them*. “My parents.” He
whispered softly.

Hermione nodded, “Yes, that's where I met Lily and James. I don't understand. I
don't see how they really could exist. I mean, they were just supposed to be innocent
victims.”

Chills crawled up Harry's back. He wasn't sure why all this unnerved him so. They were
just dreams. However, her words still worried him. “Tell me about the dream.” Did he really want to
hear how someone killed his parents in a dream?

This was for Hermione. Whether he wanted to hear it or not, he knew she needed him to
listen.

“I walked into a house. I don't really remember details about how it looked or anything, but
in the dream, the details were vivid. Lily and James were inside. They were scared of me. Avery was
there too. The couple was completely terrified.” Hermione's eyes remained locked on the bedpost
and her voice was empty and hollow as she retold her dream. “They cowered. I…I tortured them, using
the Crutacious Curse. James…he tried to save Lily. Begged for her to get spared. I only mocked him.
I…you were mentioned. I said something about `their son.' Great Wizards, I had no clue it was
you. Then, well…I talked about Evil and Power and Weakness. Then…I…I…the Killing Curse…” she
couldn't finish; tears slowly slid down her cheeks.

Harry nodded. He knew what must have happened next. He didn't know what to say. “You're
sure it was my parents?” He asked, though he knew it was useless. Hermione knew what she saw.

Hermione didn't even bother responding.

“Has anything else been going on? Any other—” his eyes landed on her bedside table and her
journal entry thing came to mind. “What did Ron and Draco do?” He asked seriously, fearing the
worst. He didn't think his old friends were capable of doing anything horrible, but he also
didn't think they would desert him either.

Hermione raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “How do you know…?”

Harry pulled out the piece of paper and showed it to her. “When you were gone, I snuck up here
to see if you happened to be in your room. I…I knew I should have gone through your stuff, but I
dunno, my curiosity got the best of me. I found this. Now please, tell me what all this
*means*! They threatened your *life*?!” Harry exclaimed, shoving the paper towards
her.

Hermione was at a loss for what to say. Now that it was out in the open, she had to tell him
something. But what if he didn't believe her? What if he thought she was making it up to draw
him even father from his old friends? She would have to be careful. Hermione stood and walked over
toward her window and looked outside into the inky blackness. The moon shone brightly, creating a
blue sheen on the snow. She weighed each word carefully. “Have you ever heard of the Internecivus
Araneus?” Hermione asked slowly, turning around. Harry shook his head. Hermione walked over to a
pile of books and picked up *Deadly Creatures and Their Origins*. She quickly flipped to page
forty-two and handed the book to Harry.

“Well, it's a spider of sorts. A very dangerous spider…” Hermione went on to tell him of the
attack upon her, stressing just how dangerous the specimen was. As she relived the horrific
experience, chills ran all along her body and she unconsciously rubbed her neck. She rushed through
the story, not wanting to prolong the horror she had felt. Once she finished, she look at Harry.
Instead of the look of anger she had anticipated on him, she found his expression unreadable.

Finally, she said softly, “Harry?”

Harry blinked and looked her in the eye. He glanced back down at the book in his hands and took
in the picture. “A…spider? They threatened you with…a…*spider*?” He asked, flabbergasted.

Hermione scoffed. He didn't believe her. He sounded almost like he was *mocking* her.
But she needed him to believe her. “Look, I know it may be hard to believe, but I swear I'm
telling the truth. Ron put that *thing* on my neck! It could have killed me! As you can see, I
even researched he spider. Everything they said was true! I promise!” She insisted, willing for him
to believe her, pointing at the book.

“*Ron* held this…this…*spider*? Like…one of those things with a zillion eyes and eight
bendy legs? They spin webs? A **spider**?!” Harry asked, still disbelieving.

Hermione was irritated now and made a disgusted sound. She went over and snatched the book from
him. “Yes, a bloody spider! I can't believe you think I'm making this up!” Her voice was
turning shrill.

Harry realized Hermione was getting upset with him. He hastily began to explain, “No, no, no.
You don't understand, Hermione. It's not that I think you're making it up. I
just...see, Ron is absolutely *terrified* of spiders. He hates them. And for him to even be in
the same room as this thing…that's a stretch. It's just not him. I'm sorry. I know him.
I…I really…” he stopped. Hermione looked heartbroken because she thought he thought she was lying.
“Look, what else happened? What else was said?” He asked, hoping to find *something* that
would help make her story plausible. It was just Ron was petrified of these things!

“I…I don't know. They said I was brainwashing you. Or giving you sexual favors,” Hermione
blushed, but pressed on. “In exchange for friendship. Something about me never fitting in with the
Potters. They called me a Mudblood. Um. I was meant to be in Slytherin. I'm evil.” Hermione
strained her memory. “I don't know! It happened though, Harry, I swear to Merlin it happened.”
She was almost in tears.

“I know, Hermione. I believe you. I really do. I know something must have happened. I don't
doubt the event happened at all. It's just, I dunno. There must have been something else there.
I mean, I really can't see Ron and Draco being so cruel. I know they've been assholes, but
I also grew up with them. Calling you a Mudblood…? It's not them. Maybe they were under a spell
or something. I dunno. Anything else you can remember? Anything at all?” He didn't want to
believe it. Ron and Draco could never do something like this.

Hermione shook her head. “No…just…I dunno. We were trying to bluff each other. I said they were
horrible. They said I was ruining your reputation. I've ruined your life. I've been trouble
ever since the first day we met in Potions. Something about Granger qualities, which I'm
guessing now, after all that's been revealed, must be the whole Vold—”

Something sounded off to Harry. “Wait, Potions? They said we first met in Potions class?” Harry
asked suddenly. No, they knew all about the meeting at the Ministry.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. “What? Oh, yeah, they thought we first met in Potions. And said
I've been trouble—”

Harry shook his head. “No, none of this fits them. And I told them about meeting you at the
Ministry. No…there's something else involved here. Maybe even Dark Magic, I dunno. I can feel
it. It doesn't make sense, otherwise. Where would they get this thing? Sure, Draco's family
may be able to get it, but it's not likely for Draco to go to his family for it.” Harry
finished, pacing the floor now.

Hermione walked closer to him, reaching a hand out and stopping his pacing. “So what exactly are
you saying then? It wasn't them?” She asked, disbelievingly.

Harry shrugged. “Trust me, Hermione. It's not them. They could have been anyone in disguise.
Who knows? But please, *you have to trust me on this*. I need you to.” Harry pleaded.

Hermione didn't say anything. Harry had a point. It would have been someone else. Anyone.
But who?

Someone who was obviously trying to push Hermione away from Harry.

Someone who would have access to Dark creatures.

Someone who would…*could* do such a terrible thing.

Hermione looked up at Harry. Suddenly, she recognized the sneaky techniques the boys had
used.

They've been used on her before.

“Avery.”

Harry nodded. “It wouldn't surprise me. Sounds right up his alley, the sneaky bastard. It
would make loads of sense. But I'm going to ask Ron and Draco about it anyway. I'll know
for sure then. Anything else?” Harry asked.

Hermione thought for a moment. Nothing rushed to mind. She had told Harry of her night terrors.
Of her getting attacked by the alleged Avery. She shook her head.

Harry nodded, “Okay, well now it's time for me to share. Remember when I talked to
Dumbledore? Well, I told him everything I know. I was worried. Remember the other night when my
head hurt at the Shrieking Shack?” Harry asked, looking at Hermione.

She nodded. Where was he going with this?

Harry continued, “Well, it's not the first time it's hurt. And I've realized exactly
what is hurting.” He pushed his bangs back. “This scar from that wreck I told you about. I
don't know how and I don't know why, but I know that's what's been hurting. And…I
know what's been causing it…” He finished slowly. How could he tell her it was *her*
touch?

Hermione still couldn't see where he was going with this. “Then what's causing the
pain?”

Harry sighed, “This is going to sound crazy, but I talked to Dumbledore about it and he seems to
think it's feasible…that…it's…well, you.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow. “*Me*? I'm causing your scar to hurt?” She asked,
completely thrown off.

Harry nodded. “It's just hurts when we touch. Sometimes it just twinges, other times, I feel
like my head is going to split in two. It only happens when our skin touches. Here, let me…?” Harry
stepped closer to her. He hesitantly reached out a hand and grasped Hermione's bare arm. As he
expected, pain shot through his forehead. Not as much as before, but enough to be noticeable. He
let go.

It's you.” He confirmed.

Hermione just stared at him, unblinkingly. “But how? Why?” She asked, stunned.

Harry shrugged. “I think that's what Dumbledore wants to talk to us about.”

Hermione nodded. “Sorry for all the pain I've caused you.” She muttered sheepishly, almost
embarrassed.

Harry laughed. “Don't worry about it.”

Silence filled the room.

“So.”

“So.”

Neither could really think of anything to say.

Harry gave her an awkward smile, “Any more secrets?” He asked.

Hermione returned his smile. “Nope, none that I can think of. Any other crazy response from your
body my touch gets?” Hermione asked innocently.

A slight blush crept into Harry's cheeks as he almost choked. “Uh, no. Everything's
fine.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow then suddenly realized what could have been taken from her words.
Embarrassment flooded through her. “Oh. Um, I didn't mean…well…er...Sorry?” She offered, at a
complete loss for what to say.

Harry laughed. “Well, it's getting late and I'm going to go see if I can find Ron and
Draco before they go to bed. The sooner we get to the bottom of this, the sooner we can take care
of it. Are you going to sleep now or coming down to the Common Room or what?” Harry asked, trying
smooth over the tension.

Hermione shrugged. “I think I'll just get to bed. It's been a long day and I had a rough
night last night. Plus we have our last week of classes tomorrow, so I want to be rested. Christmas
break is coming up! I'm excited!” Hermione replied, smiling.

Harry nodded. “Alright, well I guess I'll go out the way I came in…” He grabbed his
broomstick and headed for the window.

Hermione gave a nod back. “Well, good night then. I'll see you tomorrow.”

Harry smiled, “Good night too. And Hermione?”

She raised her head, “Yes?”

Harry gave her a small grin, “Thanks for telling me everything. Thank you for trusting me.”

“Thank you too.”

With that, Harry flew out the window and headed back in the direction of his own dormitory.

After he left, Hermione locked the window and quickly got ready for bed. Once she was finished,
she laid down in her bed and let relief sweep over her, as well as exhaustion. Telling Harry was a
good thing.

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*New meanings to the words I feed upon
Wake within my veins elements of freedom
Can't break now I've been living for this
Won't break now I'm cleansed with hopefulness*

*“Precious Declaration”*

*COLLECTIVE SOUL*

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The dormitory was empty when Harry got back, as he had anticipated. He quickly put his Firebolt
away before heading down to the Common Room. Ron and Draco were playing Wizard chess on one of the
tables while talking to Seamus and Jeremy. Harry took a deep breath, and before he could lose his
nerve, he strode over to them. They looked up when they saw him with mild interest.

“I need to talk to talk to you two. It's pretty important. Can we step outside?” Harry
asked, looking at his two old friends. He gave them an urgent look, and then walked to the Portrait
Hole. Ron and Draco looked at each before following. They knew that worried look. Harry was halfway
down the corridor when they got out there, waiting on them.

“What's up?” Draco asked as they stopped just a few feet short of Harry.

There was no point of beating it around the bush. “Did you guys do anything to Hermione?” Harry
asked, giving them a pointed look.

Ron rolled his eyes. “No, we haven't touched her. Merlin, now what, just going to start
accusing people of hurting her?”

Harry glared at him. “She said—“

Draco stopped him, “Oh so *she's* the one saying we're causing trouble then?” He
started back towards the Common Room, Ron following suit.

Harry grabbed their arms so they were facing him again. “Look, I didn't think you guys had
done anything. Someone must have been impersonating you—”

“Or she is lying,” Draco muttered.

“She's not. And as far as you blokes know, there are a couple of students walking around the
school, disguised as you two, threatening people with deadly spiders and such. That's Azkaban
time. You two are the ones who are going to take the fall. Now I know it's not you two, Merlin,
there's deadly spider involved here.”

Draco shrugged. “I doubt you pulled us out here to warn us about this.”

Ron nodded in agreement. “What is this really about?”

Harry sighed. “I just wanted to make sure. I mean, I know it wasn't you guys—”

“Obviously you weren't too confident.” Ron sneered.

Harry just looked them, not knowing what to say. “I had to ask.” He said with a shrug.

The two boys gave him one last look before turning around again.

Before Harry could stop himself, he called, “So when is this going to end?”

His old friends paused for a second, before continuing down the corridor.

Anger gripped him. They were being stubborn assholes. He found himself shouting after them, “You
know, I've never deserted you guys, ever. I didn't let your dark reputation, Draco, stop me
from being friends with you, even when you were a snotty prat. Or you, Ron. I've never let your
jealous issues come between us either, even when you've acted like a complete prat. I've
always been loyal, you hear that? *I'VE ALWAYS BEEN LOYAL*!” Harry screamed, but they just
walked through the Portrait Hole, leaving him in the corridor by himself.

+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+

*Harry was walking down one of the corridors in Hogwarts, nothing thinking anything in
particular, just walking. The hall was well-lit and sunshine was pouring in through the windows,
bright and reflecting off the snow. He was just thinking about getting something to drink when a
door flew open and Ron and Draco appeared, broomsticks in hand. Ron's eyes were wide. “There
you are! Hurry mate, the Quidditch game is about so start!”*

*“What? But I don't have my stu—” He looked and saw he was suddenly in his
Qu**idditch uniform and his Firebolt* *in his hand.* *“Ok, well I guess let's
go.” Harry finished before he followed Ron and Draco. There were at the end of the corridor when
they bumped into Hermione. As soon as she saw him, her face lit up.*

*“Harry! I've been looking everywhere for you. We have that Transfiguration project we
need to work on. We need to get to the Library. Let's go! Hurry! We are going to run out of
time!” Hermione grabbed his hand and began to pull him away from Ron and Draco. He felt another tug
on her arm by Ron.*

*“No, he has a game.” Ron said, pulling Harry back.*

*Hermione scoffed. “There isn't time for games. We have to finish that project, Harry.”
She gave his hand another small jerk. “The Library is this way.”*

*Harry looked back and forth. Ron's face was red, and Hermione's was getting
there.*

*“The game.”*

*“No, he has a project he needs to finish.” Hermione growled.*

*Both Ron and Hermione had a grip on each of his arms, and were pulling him in opposite
directions.*

*“He has a game!”*

*“He needs to go to the Library!”*

*A door opened and Harry's father walked in on the scene. “Harry, what are you doing? What
have we told you about the Grangers?” He gave his son a stern look. “We don't associate with
them.” Once that was said, he went over and stood behind Ron and Draco.*

*“Exactly, and besides, she killed us, remember?” He heard his mother's voice say as she
walked in out of nowhere and stood beside her husband, but not before giving Hermione a look of
distaste.*

*“Harry, the game? Scouts are coming to this one.” Harry's father said with a note of
finality in his voice, as if that summed the whole matter up.*

*A few more students made their way into view, all walking over to Ron and Draco's side,
talking about the upcoming Quidditch game.*

*“However,” an almost raspy voice sounded, “Sometimes there are more important things, like
love and friendship.” None other than Albus Dumbledore appeared, his blue eyes twinkling.
Dumbledore sent the confused Harry a mischievous grin before winking at Hermione and walking over
to her and gently putting a hand on her shoulder. She gave him a grateful smile before looking back
at Harry with dark eyes and a pretty smile.*

*Harry looked back and forth between the opposing sides.*

*“It's against Slytherin!”*

*“Really, Harry, the project is due soon!”*

*“Quidditch!”*

*“Other more important things.”*

*“Let's go to the game!”*

*“Want to go to the Library with me, Harry?*

*Finally, Harry jerked his arms free from the whole lot of them and took off down the
corridor. Their yells echo down the hall and seemed to follow him, but he tried to concentrate on
just running. After what felt like hours, he slowed to a stop as a stitch in his side throbbed with
pain. He was half hunched over with his hands on his knees when he vaguely realized he wasn't
wearing his Quidditch attire anymore, nor did he have his Firebolt.*

*“What's wrong, Potter, lose your Mudblood girlfriend, now did we?” Avery stood there in
front of him, laughing. “Oh, what's that? You know all her dark secrets now, do you?* *Why
aren't you with her? Afraid she'll murder your parents or something?” His cold blue eyes
flashed.*

*Harry shook his head, “Ge…get.” He was out of breath and couldn't seem to get any air
into his lungs. “Ge…” Still, he couldn't breathe.*

*Avery laughed. “Ge…what? Forget how to talk? You better hurry; the Quidditch game just
started. Now if you don't mind, I've got a project to do in the Library.” He winked and
started back towards the castle. Harry tried to go after him, but found that he couldn't move.
“Sto…stop.” He wheezed.*

*He felt a tap on his should and turned around, only to find Ron and Draco standing behind
him, wild looks on their faces. “There you are! Hurry mate, the Quidditch game is about so
start!”*

Oh no, not again!

*He shook his head. “Library!” He managed to get out, but couldn't seem to move in that
direction.*

*Draco gave him a funny look. “What kind of Golden Snitch are you going to find in the
Library, mate? It's the Quidditch stadium for. Let's go, we're going to be
late!”*

*No, he needed to get to the Library, with Hermione. They didn't understand. Avery was up
there and…and**...a shrill scream floated his way, though no one appeared to even hear it
accept him.*

Hermione!

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Harry woke with a start and wildly took in his immediate surroundings.

He was in his bed. His clock read 6:24. He blinked a few times before coming to his senses and
realized it had been a dream. The fighting and the arguing. Avery. It was all just a dream. Harry
sat there motionless for a moment before getting up and heading to the bathroom for a shower,
careful not to wake the other boys in the room.

That morning found him and Hermione sitting at their usual end of the Gryffindor table, neither
really talking much. A few words were exchanged concerning the breakfast, but Hermione was mostly
engrossed in a textbook across from him while Harry was content with eating his food. With nothing
on his mind in particular, he sat in the silence, almost in a daze until he was disturbed by
footsteps coming towards him. He glanced up and saw that Ron was standing in beside him. Without a
word, he sat down beside Harry, while Draco sat across from Ron, next to Hermione. Hermione,
clearly uncomfortable and confused, searched Harry's face for an explanation. Her eyes were
wide and Harry could see a slight fear.

“So,” Draco said in a forced-pleasant voice, “How's breakfast this morning? Anything
especially tasty in particular?” He asked with a smile. He glanced over at Hermione, but she
quickly returned to her book, her face slightly pink. Her shoulder gave a small shrug.

Harry cleared his throat, “The eggs are pretty good.” Draco nodded.

Harry glanced over at Ron, who was looking down at his food, before back to Hermione. Her eyes
were hard to read. She was staring down at her book, under the pretense that she was reading, but
Harry could tell she wasn't. Finally, she closed her book with a loud snap and grabbed her
stuff before addressing Harry quietly, “I'll see you in class, I've got to run to the
Library real quick.” And with that, the brown-haired girl rushed off, out of the Great Hall.

Harry let out a slow breath once she left. He was half-glad she did. It was going to make this
next conversation a lot easier to have and less unnerving.

“So what in the hell is this?”

Ron and Draco both looked up from their food. Draco finished chewing and swallowed before
replying, “We realized we were indeed being complete assholes. You're right. You've always
been there for us, no matter what.”

“We're sorry. If you want her in with us, then that's cool. If you trust her, then we
trust her. Screw everyone else.” Ron chimed in, almost choking while trying to talk with his mouth
full.

Harry had a stern look on his face, and looked from one bloke to the other. He could blow up. He
could yell. He could grab them and shake them, demanding what had taken so long. They could have a
good row about it before ending nicely.

His face broke out in a wide grin. “About bloody time!”

Or he could just accept it, and go on. Shit happens.

They laughed, and for a split second, it felt just like it used to be, before all this mess.

Draco grinned, “Any road, so now what? We're all cool, right?”

Harry nodded.

It was Ron's turn to grin, “Alright then, so tell us, what have you and your bint been up to
anyway? We're not too thick to realize you aren't in fact an arse bandit, and Hermione
*is* a girl. Are you two snogging or what?”

Harry spit up his juice in surprise. “Ron! No, we are not snogging. We're just mates,
that's all.”

Draco made a noise of disbelief, but decided not to push it. “She was uh…quite detached this
morning, as it seems. She really isn't very fond of us at all, is she?” He asked.

Harry laughed, “Well, we decided it wasn't you who had attacked her in the Common Room, but
for her, there's still no actual proof. I know you blokes aren't under any obligation or
anything, but if you made a bit of an effort, I think she'd come around.” Harry offered, hoping
it was true. Hermione seemed to believe him last night.

Ron nodded. “Okay, we'll show her there's no need to get her knickers in a twist when
she's around us—that is, if Harry isn't' carrying them in his pocket already.” He
finished with a wink.

Harry laughed. He could already see all the teasing and taunts that were coming his way. “Well
I'm going to go catch up with Hermione; this is obviously quite odd for her. I'll get her
up to speed and…we'll go from there. And uh, thanks guys.” He stood and started for the door,
leaving his two friends.

He found Hermione outside their first class that morning, Charms. She was looking at a book.
“Hello there mate.” He greeted her happily before plopping himself down beside her.

Hermione smiled stiffly at him. “Hi.”

Harry gave her a small poke, “So what'cha reading?” He asked, looking at her book.

“Charms.” She responded.

Harry nodded. “So earlier in the Great Hall…”

Hermione started hard at her book, “You're just going to let them come back. Just like
that.” Her voice was cold.

Harry didn't know what to say. “Well, when you put it that way. See Hermione, I know
they've been right arseholes, and they know that too. They've apologized. They just had a
moment of idiocy. They're great blokes, trust me. You'll like them. As far as that thing in
the Common Room goes….it wasn't them, I promise.”

Hermione nodded coldly. “Okay.”

“That's what friends do, Hermione. They have fun, act stupid, are idiots for awhile, then we
forgive and forget. We can't hold grudges forever. And I've been mates with them for a long
time, as you know. So, do you think you can play nice if they do? For me? Who knows, you might even
like them more than you like me!” Harry joked, causing Hermione to smile.

She gave a dramatic sigh, “Okay, I'll try to play nice. And I doubt I'll like them more
than I like.” She replied with a grin.

Harry grinned. “Brilliant. Now shall we get inside? Heaven forbid the seats in the front row get
taken!” He narrowly missed Hermione's swat as they made their way into the classroom, front
row, as always.

Harry couldn't help but think things finally seemed to be going in the right direction for
about the first time this year.

000000000000

“And now,” spoke Professor Flitwick, “If you would just partner up, practice all of last
week's spells for the quiz tomorrow.” His voice squeaked.

Harry was about to face Hermione when Draco stopped him. He grinned, “Let me partner up with her
with round.” He gave a wink.

A cold fear suddenly ran through Harry as Draco looked at him. He knew how Draco was with girls.
He wasn't about to let Draco have a go at Hermione. She wasn't some tart. He cocked an
eyebrow suspiciously. “She isn't a tart who—”

Draco laughed, “No, not like that. I know, I know, she's your girl. I got it. I'm not
looking for fanny. I just want to talk.”

Harry nodded. “Okay, I thought…”

Draco shook his head, “I'm not going to do you like that.” And with that, he walked over to
Hermione and said smoothly, “Hello there, milady, I hear you seek a partner.” Harry rolled his
eyes. He always did try to be suave with the ladies, whether it was his grandmother or even a
little girl.

Hermione looked up at Harry, slightly alarmed. Harry smiled and gave her a coaxing nod. She
relented and looked back at Draco. “Okay.”

Draco smiled, “Good. So how are you?”

Hermione shrugged stiffly before attempting the first spell listed on the board, which she got
easily. Draco offered her praise, before effortlessly doing the spelling himself.

“Harry told us about what happened in the Common Room.” Draco finally said, as they moved down
the list of spells.

Hermione didn't respond.

Draco pushed on, “Look, I know you can't like us too much at the moment, and we don't
blame you. We've acted like jerks, and by the sound of it, we've attempted to take your
life. You have to know that wasn't us. I swear on my life.”

Hermione stopped. “I know. I trust Harry. If he says it wasn't you, then it wasn't
you.”

Draco nodded before snickering. “But say you don't believe me. Harry told us more about this
attack at breakfast. You say the alleged Ron handled this spider, correct?”

Hermione just looked at him blankly.

Draco took her silence as a confirmation. “Alright, well want to see a boy almost piss his
pants?”

A smile slowly crept on Hermione's features. “What do you have in mind?”

Draco laughed and glanced over at Ron, who was talking to Harry. “Watch closely.” With a low
mutter and a flick of his want in Ron's direction, a harmless black spider appeared on
Ron's shoulder. At first, he didn't notice it.

Hermione watched as Harry pointed it out Ron. Ron's eye widened instantly and his arms
started flailing. He was screaming shrilly, “Get it off! Get it off!”

Hermione and Draco were bursting with laughter at the humorous sight before them. Ron was
running in circles, bumping into desks and falling over them as he tried to get the creature off
him. Hermione could tell instantly this was not the same bloke who handled that other spider. She
nodded as laughter still poured out.

Draco caught her eye. “See?” he asked innocently, chuckling. “Definitely not the type who could
even touch this specimen of which you speak.

Harry walked over, laughing, and gave Draco a high-five. “You do realize Ron is going to kill
you, right?” He asked.

Draco shrugged, “He can try.”

And try he did. After Ron finally got the spider off him, he looked over at Draco, who was
trying to look innocent. Red in the face, he came after his friend. Draco laughed, “Well, it was
nice being partners with you, Hermione, but this is where he tries to make me pay for winding him
up, so I must dash!” Draco rushed for the door and called behind him, “Sorry, Filius, I'll come
back for my detention later!”

Ron rushed after him, calling back something similar.

The Charms' professor looked almost angry at first, before shrugging with a nod as if to say
*`Yeah, that sounds about right.'*

Hermione turned to Harry, speechless. “Talk about total wankers!”

Harry laughed. “Yep.”

**I did my part, so you guys do yours and review!!! Think of it this way…I spent hours writing
this for you (I could have just kept it all in my head!)…so spend a few seconds (or even minutes if
you want!) and let me know what you think about it!!!!**

**Thanks and I'll catch you all in the next chapter!!!**

***~Archie~***

-->



19. Its Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas
----------------------------------------------



**Hi!**

**WARNING, FURTHER CONTENT MAY CAUSE HEART FAILURE OR SOMETHING OF THE SUCHLIKE:**

**Ok, I'm going to say this very slowly…**

**I.** **Am. Posting. A. New. Cha. Pte. R.**

**WOOHOO! I can't believe it either! It only took me like two months or
something!!!!!!!!!!!! I am so proud. Well, on with it then!**

**Disclaimer: Nothing is mine.**

**Chapter Eighteen: It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas**

“So, have you figured out your plans for Christmas yet?” Harry asked Hermione over breakfast.
“Now that things are good with your parents, do you think you will be going home? Hogwarts is
usually pretty great during the holidays as well though, so that's something you can think
about too. I've told you plenty of times how amazing it is here. Hagrid brings in all these
huge trees and such. It's great.”

Hermione smiled, “Yes, I've been thinking about that. I had figured I would be staying
because of this whole row with my parents. But, since things have changed…I'm not so sure
anymore. I should probably go back home, especially since I've been away for so long. What
about you?” She asked, looking over at her raven-haired friend.

Harry shrugged. “I dunno. Since you had originally planned on staying, I was going to as well to
keep you company, but if you're going home, I dunno. Mum had said something about it in her
last letter. She is expecting me to come home, but at the same time…it's my last year here, you
know? But I imagine I'll go home for the holidays as well, just to please the parents.”

Hermione nodded, “Yeah, it might not be that bad of an idea. Maybe you can even tell them about
your new friend.” She said with a wink.

Harry forced a laugh. He knew he couldn't keep Hermione a secret forever. He was shocked it
had lasted this long. He would have to tell them eventually, he knew. But he also knew his parents
would not be accepting at all. His family was always so against Grangers. He couldn't even
quite comprehend their hatred.

They continued to talk for awhile before they were joined by Ron and Draco. Then classes were
about to begin, so they had to leave the Great Hall and go to class.

000000000000000000

“Ha, well the way I see it, if he didn't want anything to happen, poor Ernie shouldn't
have tried to get in our way, the wanker. Always trying to be the boss. Honestly, Ron, I see him as
a younger version of your brother Weatherby.” Draco snorted, laughing.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione joined in. They were sitting in Defense Against the Dark Arts,
practicing spells. Harry was just about to comment when a noise stopped him dead.

“Wow, it's been quite awhile since I've been in here,” a too familiar voice floated
across the room as a guest stepped into the room—none other than James Potter himself.

Harry immediately panicked. His father was here! And he was right here with Hermione!

“Harry, it's your dad. Looks like he's—” Ron's voice trailed off once he caught
sight of his friend's expression. “Oh shite!” He exclaimed.

Harry looked at Hermione, who had slightly paled. Harry could only imagine what must be going
through her mind, having “killed” this man in a dream. Harry watched as his father strode up to
Sirius and Harry could tell he had already assessed the situation and wasn't going let anything
happen. Harry calmed slightly.

He looked at his friends. “What do I do?” he whispered helplessly.

By this time, Hermione had gained back most of her composure. She straighted her skirt. “Well,
he's got to find out sometimes. My parents were okay so maybe—”

Ron cut her off, “Have you gone nutters, woman? You don't know these people. That is the
last thing that should be done.”

Hermione scoffed.

Before Ron or Hermione could retort, Draco's voice of reason stepped in. “Go over there so
he doesn't come over here. Ron is right, you'd be mad to let him find out now. Hurry,
go!”

Harry nodded and quickly walked over to his father with a bright, fake smile on his face.

“Well hello there, son.” His father greeted him as he messed up his son's dark unruly hair
by ruffling his fingers through it.

“Hello, Dad. How are you? Mums good, I hope?” Harry asked politely, glancing over at Sirius for
help.

James grinned, “I'm brilliant, and of course your mother is top notch, as usual. She misses
her little boy, but as I've tried to explain to her, you're not so little anymore. Ron and
Draco doing okay?” Harry's father asked, casting a glance over towards Harry's mates.

Harry followed his look and saw that Hermione was slightly away from the two boys, her nose in a
book, though he could feel her glace on him from time to time.

Harry smiled and replied, “As good as they can be. What brings you here?”

James shrugged, “I was bored and had some time off, so I figured I'd come and see my old
friend Padfoot here and make sure my son is behaving.”

Sirius laughed, “Well, he's behaving about as well as his father did in school.”

This caused James to chuckle. “I should hope so! Anything more and I'd be embarrassed!”

“And anything more, and Lily would have all our heads!” Sirius shot back, earning a mutual nod
of agreement from both Potters.

After a few more minutes of mindless chatter, a bell rang somewhere, signaling their next class.
Harry wished his father a farewell and cast Sirius a meaningful glance before collecting his things
and meeting his friends in the corridor.

“That was close!” Ron said loudly, shaking his head. Draco nodded in agreement.

Hermione huffed, “I still don't see what the big deal here is. Maybe he would have taken it
okay. You never know!” She insisted somewhat stiffly.

Harry shook his head, “No, you don't understand. My family has very deep feelings about
this, especially my mother. She isn't even really a Potter and she has so much hate.” After
noticing the look that passed over Hermione's features, he quickly continued, “Yes, I know. I
don't get it either. But us not understanding isn't going to make a difference.”

“So, am I just going to be shoved in a broom closet every time they're around?” Hermione
questioned. Harry could tell she was not very happy about this, but he didn't know what else to
do.

After a few seconds of silence, Hermione sighed heavily. “I'm sorry, it's just
frustrating. I'm sorry.” She apologized, looking over at Harry.

Harry smiled, “It's fine. Don't worry, they'll find out soon enough.” He reassured
her.

“Which is when you *will* need to worry.” Ron snickered. “I mean, I've seen Harry's
grandparents use the Granger's name to describe some pretty foul things!”

Harry ignored him and glanced over his should one last time before heading to their next
class.

Hermione could understand how Harry was feeling, but at the same time, with all the new things
that have been going on, she just wanted to get things out in the open. She didn't
understand—however—*why* this family could harbor so much hate for her. *What* could she
possible have done t make them like this?

Throughout the rest of the next class, and even lunch, Hermione noticed a difference in Harry.
He seemed constantly nervous and kept looking over his shoulder. She wished she could help him, but
there was nothing she could do. Finally, after the last of their classes for the day, Harry excused
himself for “a big of fresh air.' Hermione took this time to go up in her room and do some
homework before dinner.

A half an hour later, Hermione was engrossed in her homework when something out the window
caught her eye. She had a clear view of the Quidditch pitch. She watched as a familiar silhouette
zoomed around in the air. She had watched him fly countless times and could spot him easily.

She looked down at her unfinished homework before she grabbed a blanket, conjured up some hot
coco, and found a comfortable spot by the window. She watched silently for a few minutes, slightly
in admiration. He was a spectacular flier.

A group of people came into view, perhaps five or six people. The small group walked onto the
Quidditch pitch, broomsticks in hand.

Quidditch practice?

One of the boys on the ground flew up to greet Harry, and then both returned to the ground. Upon
a closer look, Hermione picked out Harry's father, Sirius, Ron, Draco, and perhaps Jeremy. They
talked for a few moments before dividing into two groups and setting forth a big trunk.

A Quidditch game. Hermione frowned slight and furrowed her brow. Didn't they know Harry
wanted to be left alone right now? It was obvious! He did go out there, *alone*.

Perhaps it would just be a short game, Hermione thought.

At some point while she had been lost in her thoughts, the game had began. After glancing over
towards her undisturbed homework, Hermione took a sip of her sweet coco and returned her eyes to
the Quidditch pitch.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Harry zoomed through the air, the Quaffle tucked between his side and arm, as he headed for the
goal posts at the end of the pitch. They were playing a pick-up Quidditch game. There were six of
them, so each team had one Keeper and two Chasers. They didn't play with the Golden Snitch.

His father was close behind him, so Harry dived before quickly pulling back up. He laughed
loudly as his father tried to catch up. Harry threw the ball as hard as he could to Draco. His
laughing stopped when Sirius appeared out of nowhere and intercepted the Quaffle. Harry slowed and
turned around as he flew after him.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Hermione sighed. They had been playing for quite some time. She continued to watch, slightly
aggravated by now, as the boys played well into the sunset. When were they going to stop? Great
Wizards, Harry had went out there to be alone. He didn't even want to play in the first place.
Could they see that?

But still, they played on. And still, Hermione watched, growing more reproachful by the
minute.

Finally, once it grew too dark to see, Hermione could just make out their dark figures exiting
the pitch.

About time!

Hermione headed down to the Great Hall for dinner, hoping to meet up with Harry there.
Unfortunately, once she walked in, she was Harry sitting with his father, Sirius, Ron, and Draco.
Her smile faltered a bit. She had half a mind to march right up to that James Potter and tell him
exactly what she had thought of him and his prejudice. Just as her temper was beginning to flare, a
dreamy voice spoke calmly, “You can sit with me, Hermione.”

Hermione looked over and saw Luna staring at her with wide, misty blue eyes. She had a smile on
her face. Hermione forced a smile, “Oh, um…I dunno, are you sure?” She asked. She had spoken to
Luna somewhat over the last few months, though the prospect of sitting down with such an odd girl
for so long seemed somewhat awkward.

“Of course, “The blonde replied before leading her over to an open spot at the Ravenclaw house
table. Hermione sent one last look in Harry's direction and caught his eye. He gave her a
silent apologetic look. She returned it with a smile of understanding before following Luna to her
new dinner seat for the evening, readying herself to hear about imaginary creatures that were
bizarre to such an avid reader as herself.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Harry watched as Hermione followed his Ravenclaw friend. He was very grateful. He felt terrible
for Hermione having to be away in the first place. But he knew now wasn't the time nor the
place to open this can of worms. With an inward sigh, Harry tried to forget about the whole thing
and instead tried to focus on the conversation at hand, Quidditch.

He had to admit, it was nice spending time with the guys. He had been limited to basically just
Hermione's company over the last little while; talking with blokes was a nice reprieve. And it
would be good for Hermione to talk to Luna as well. With that reassuring thought in mind, Harry
reentered the conversation. Ron was talking about the Chudley Cannons, as always.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

“So how have you been, Hermione?” Luna asked before taking a sip of her water.

Hermione gave the younger girl a small smile. “Well, I've been having a bit of a rough patch
lately, but thankfully things are beginning to look up. How about yourself?” She asked
politely.

Luna Lovegood looked over at her friend and replied, “Well, the Humly Craterstick has been
causing me to lose a tad bit of sleep, but luckily we are close to the holidays and in won't
matter so much anymore.”

Hermione gave a nod to the girl with absolutely no notion whatsoever concerning what a Humly
Craterstick was. Still, not wanting to offend the girl, she politely asked for details and
commented on what she had to say. As she sat there and listened to her chat animatedly about this
bizarre creature, it occurred to Hermione that this was probably the longest friendly conversation
she had ever had with a fellow student here at Hogwarts one-on-one besides Harry. Sure, she had
talked to Luna in the past—she may even consider the odd girl as a friend—but it had never
escalated into a full out conversation. With that slightly disturbing, slightly relieving thought
tucked away safely in her mind, Hermione continued with her dinner in the Great Hall and talking to
her *friend*.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000

Hermione glanced up once she heard the Portrait Hole open and watched as Harry, Ron, and Draco
made their way into the Gryffindor Common Room. Is father was nowhere in sight, so Hermione decided
it was safe to associate with her friend now. They were all standing on the other side of the
Common Room, talking to Neville and Seamus about something comical by the expressions on their
faces. She was just gathering up her things, thinking something along the lines of *`Well
it's about damn time!'* when she suddenly stilled.

This was humiliating.

Ron and Draco didn't have to hide when Harry's parents were around. They didn't have
to sit at another table or pretend they didn't even know him. Then, once the coast was clear,
ran up to them as if they were starved for human contact.

Yes, this was very embarrassing. Why should she stand for it?

Hermione gave her friends a quick peek, deciding they hadn't seen her yet, sitting over here
alone in a corner like the outcast that she was. Then, she tossed a sideways glance over at the
Girls' Staircase. Before she could properly make up her mind, Hermione found herself
darting—unseen—for the stairs that led to her lonely dormitory.

She was not some petty friend who was going to wait around for him to not be ashamed of her in
front of his parents. No, she deserved more than that.

As she raced up the staircase, she stopped in mid-step and looked back behind her. “Asshole.”
She muttered under her breath, in a bitter yet almost gleeful tone before returning to her quest
for the solace of her room.

She was torn. Part of her knew it wasn't Harry's fault and had it been up to him things
would have been much different. For one, she would have been able to join him at dinner. She could
almost visualize the cheerful grin he would greet her before politely demanding Ron or Draco or
whoever to scoot down and make a space for her, proudly right at his side.

But then there was the other part of her that was childish and felt scorned by his behavior.
Well, if he wanted to act like that, so could she. Now the scene of the Great Hall in her mind
changed to Harry looking over at Ron or Draco and asking of her whereabouts. Perhaps they would
reply with something witty like, “Maybe she is hanging out with Luna” or “She must be off doing
something more interesting than hanging out with us.” Oh how that would take him down a peg or two!
She would suddenly shift from desperate friend to mysterious and not at all interdependent of his
company. That would teach him!

Hermione felt horrible for her thinking like this, yet at the same time, she felt that it was
deserved. As she thought of this, old proverbs swam around in her head, *`Two wrongs don't
make a right,' `Fighting fire with fire on results in a bigger fire,'* and *`Forgive
and forget.'*

But there were other as well, such as *`Revenge is best served cool,**'* and
`*don't get mad, get even.'* And that's exactly what she was doing, giving him the
cold shoulder.

`Great Wizards, I'm so pathetic,' Hermione internally groaned. Honestly, what was this
proving? Why would he prefer her company over Ron and Draco's? Hermione sighed. Today had
proven that. Hermione gave an angry huff before collapsing on her four-poster bed. After
extinguishing all the light in her room, Hermione curled herself up into a ball, partly cursing
Harry, partly cursing herself.

000000000000000000000000000000000

The next morning, Harry had asked why she retired to her room so early. Hermione feigned
supposal tiredness the night before. Harry had frowned slightly, but accepted her lie nonetheless.
He inquired politely about her time with Luna, as well as apologized profusely for her behavior,
and made her wonder who had really suffered from her antics the night before—herself or Harry?

However, her remorse lightened later that day as Harry had decided to participate in a snowball
fight with some of the guys after classes were over. Ever since Ron and Draco came back, other
males seemed not so bother by Harry's presence either. He had gotten a sliver of his old life
back, his old life that didn't involve her. He had asked her to join in, but she politely
refused. It would have made her very uncomfortable, as well as the other students. She didn't
want to put a damper on his good time. Instead, she took a lonesome tour of the grounds, and ending
up in front of Hagrid's hut.

Hermione had met the gamekeeper on a few other occasions. Harry had introduced them. He was
clumsy and even slightly intimidating with his abnormal size and wild beard, but Harry had assured
her that he was harmless.

Feeling awkward, Hermione wasn't sure whether or not she should knock. Sure, she had been
there and he was nice, but it had always been with Harry. Before she could make a decision,
however, the door swung open with a loud scrapping sound.

“'Ermione!” Hagrid's booming voice greeted her. “'Ello there! I though' it was
you! Come in, come in. Too nippy `ter just be waitin' outside!” He cried, ushering Hermione
inside. “No `Arry?” The half-giant asked, though not in a voice oozing disappointment, as she had
anticipated.

Hermione smiled as she sat down in a chair beside Hagrid's black canine friend, Fang, who
had slobber hanging from his mouth. “No, Hagrid, not this time. He's actually in the middle of
a snowball war. Been at it for quite awhile.” Hermione responded, appreciating the warmth his hut
provided.

Hagrid laughed, causing the table to shake slightly. “Yea,' I though' I `eard some loud
ruckus. So `ow are you? Excited abou' the `oliday?” He asked, as he poured them both steaming
cups of tea and uncovered some rock cakes.

They chatted for awhile, talking about holiday plans and such. Hermione expressed her desire to
go home and Hagrid agreed, though he added her presence would surely be missed.

After spending a little more time with the gamekeeper, Hermione bade him farewell and wished him
happy holidays before leaving and heading back out into the snow-covered grounds. She noticed the
boys were still throwing around snowballs. She made sure she kept a distance from them so not to
get hit. However, despite her plans to steer clear of the battlefield, she still became a target.
Out of nowhere, she felt someone collide into her and tackle her into the snow. She shrieked out of
surprise as she felt arms lock around her and heard a muffled familiar laugh in her ear. She tried
to scramble away, but Harry still managed to cover her face with snow.

“Harry!” she yelped again, finally able to get away.

Harry snickered before jumping up and extending a hand to help her up as well. She only stuck
her tongue out at him and rolled around to get up herself. Harry snorted at her antics before
brushing his hands off. He glanced over at the snowball fight he had been partaking in. He waved
farewell to Ron and Draco then returned his attention to Hermione. “So what have you been up to?”
he asked, leading them towards the lake.

Hermione shrugged, “Not much. I saw Hagrid.” She replied offhandedly.

Harry grinned, “That's nice. How's he?” He inquired, shoving his hands in his pockets to
keep warm.

“He's doing fine. He's excited for the holidays.” She answered, fowling suit and putting
her hands in her own pockets.

They took a lap around the lake before going in for dinner.

As they sat at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall with Ron and Draco, Hermione couldn't
help but miss the comfortable one-on-one conversation during their walk.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

“Here you go, Miguel, take this to Mum and Dad for me. Then you can stay there. I'll be home
shortly after. Be safe!” Hermione called after her owl as he disappeared off into the blinding
white sky. She watched as the brown bird flew gracefully off towards the horizon.

A familiar voice from behind her stirred her from her reverie. “So you're going home for
Christmas then?” Harry asked, staring at her blankly.

Hermione jumped and whipped around, surprised slightly from the sudden interruption. “Harry!”
she exclaimed, “You gave me a fright!”

Harry grinned, “I'm sorry.” He said, not sounding very apologetic at all. “So, you're
going home then?” He repeated, stepping further into the Owlery, dodging to droppings that litter
the straw-covered ground.

Hermione smiled, “Yeah, I figured I probably should. They'll be expecting me to, plus, I do
miss them dearly.”

Harry gave a nod in understanding. “Well, that's cool. I'm going to go home myself then.
Why knows, I may even be able to talk some sense into the parents.” He joked.

Hermione forced a laugh. She couldn't help it. Lately, every time she was around Harry, she
always felt awkward and out of place. She liked Ron and Draco, really, she did. But, whenever they
were around, she felt as if she didn't belong. And times like this, when it was just her and
Harry, she felt like maybe he felt obligated to be with her. He didn't necessarily show it or
give off that vibe; it was all on Hermione. It sometimes appeared to her that he preferred their
company over hers, which was why she had taken to spending time with Luna and visiting Hagrid. She
had even had a nice chat with Professor Black, Harry's Godfather once. She couldn't help
it. The trio had such a good bond, she felt like an outsider trying to fit in.

“I guess I'll have to send you your Christmas present via Hedwig then,” Harry laughed,
giving her a wink.

Hermione's eyes widened but she quickly recovered before Harry noticed and replied, “Yeah,
and that means you'll be seeing Miguel.”

Harry gave her a friendly smile, “Poor birds. They don't get a vacation. Shall we go to
dinner?” He asked, waving an arm towards the door.

Hermione nodded and followed him out. She was calm on the outside, but inside, she was tossed
every which way. She had completely forgotten to get Harry a Christmas present! She had been so
busy lately with everything that had been going on; buying him anything had slipped her mind. She
had picked her parents and Clarence up a few things in Hogsmeade on her last trip there, but was
with Harry at the time so didn't get anything for him. Not to mention she had to face the
anxiety of if she should get him anything, and if she did, what it would be. She calmed herself.
Everything would be fine. She still had time to get him something. It's not as if it was
Christmas Eve or anything. And he had already told her he got her something, so she no longer had
to debate whether or not they were doing presents.

Everything would be fine.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Hermione and Harry shared a compartment with Ron and Draco on the way home. They all played a
few games of Exploding Snap as well as a few other Wizarding games on the way home. Hermione had
attempted to show the boys how to play a Muggle card game of euchre, but Ron couldn't fathom
playing a card game where the cards do not blow up.

Harry and Hermione had decided to say their good-bye on the train, in case Harry's parents
were waiting on him already. Her acquaintance might raise suspicion. Hermione watched as Harry went
over to a couple Hermione immediately recognized as him parents. To her, they looked like such nice
people. She couldn't see them hating her. But Harry knew them better than she did, and she
would have to trust in his judgment.

Hermione's own parents were on the Muggle side of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, waiting
on their daughter. Her mother eagerly ran up to Hermione and engulfed her in a hug. Hermione
laughed at her enthusiasm. “It's so great to see you guys!” Hermione exclaimed, giving her
father a hug as well.

“So are we!” Hermione's mother gushed, pulling Hermione in for another hug.

Hermione's father picked up the small bag Hermione had packed and threw it over his
shoulder. “So ladies, shall we go to the car?” He asked with a smile. The two women nodded and the
three Grangers made their way to a gray SUV.

000000000000000000000000000

As Hermione walked into her untouched bedroom, a big smile crept over her features a safe warmth
that had been absent from her body flooded through her veins. She was home.

000000000000000000000000000

The rest of that night went by smoothly. Hermione had expected for it to be difficult to get
back into the routine at home, but it wasn't at all. Nothing had changed, though the atmosphere
did seem to hold more cheer. It was similar to how it had been right before she left for Hogwarts.
She helped her mother with dinner while her father was in the living room, watching a game show on
TV and going through some papers.

She chatted with her mom about Hogwarts and a few things that had gone on. In return, her mother
talked about the plans for Christmas. She was told they would be hosting the big Granger Christmas
dinner this year. Her cousin Jenna from her mother's side would be coming tomorrow and stay
with them until Christmas. Apparently, Jenna's parents had some sort of trip they had to go on
for business for a few days to seal a deal for her father's company, so Hermione's mother
invited her to stay here.

Hermione was excited to see her cousin. She hadn't seen her in a few years. They had been
close as children, but as they grew older, Hermione got more involved into her magic while Jenna
got more involved in…well, whatever it was that she fancied.

Hermione mentioned to her mother about needed to do a little last minute Christmas shopping and
asked if she could take the car later.

“Why don't you just go tomorrow when Jen gets here, hun? Surely you would like a bit of
company?” Her mother responded, folding a towel and placing it on the counter before calling to her
husband, “Dear, dinner is ready!”

Hermione shrugged, “Yes, I suppose that would be nice as well.” She agreed before sitting down
to dinner with her mother and father.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Harry lay down in his bed and sighed. Finally, after a long day, he could relax. His mother had
been overly delighted that her son had come home. But she was always like this. For the first few
days after him being gone, she always acted as if she hadn't seen him in years. He couldn't
blame her. He was her little boy, though she did need to realize he wasn't so little
anymore.

He wondered briefly how Hermione's day had gone. He knew she made up with her parents, which
obviously made things a lot easier for her. He silently hoped things had gone well. He glanced over
in the corner of his room where her Christmas present sat, the wrapping slightly crinkled. He
wasn't the best of wrappers by any means. But still, he thought she would appreciate it. He had
agonized on a great gift for her. Finally, as they talked about movies and such that they liked,
she mentioned having a soft spot for the Muggle TV show *Friends*. Harry was slightly familiar
with the show, though he didn't really know much about it. He had made a special order a week
ago for it. Today, after he had went home, he made a trip to a Muggle store and picked up a box
full of all ten seasons, limited edition. It had been pricey—more expensive than Harry had thought.
However, he could still afford it and bought it anyway. After how he had treated her, it would kill
him. He just hoped she would like it as much as he thought she would.

With a small sigh, Harry hopped up and headed for the room beside his and dropped carelessly on
the couch. He started one of his videogame systems before half an hour later tossing it aside and
getting out his guitar. He hadn't played in awhile.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose, praying for her headache to subside. She had been here
at the store with Jenna for the last three hours, and still hadn't managed to pick anything out
for Harry. She had never bought a friend a present, not since she had to in school as a child. Now,
she had to buy a *good* friend who was a *boy* a present. And it had to be something
good. She thought once she got in the store, she would be able to pick something out pretty
quickly. But she was having no such luck.

“Well, what does he like?” Jenna asked for about the fiftieth time, unfazed by their long stay
in the store.

Hermione groaned. What was she going to say? Broomsticks? Quidditch? His Invisibility Cloak? She
was a Muggle, she wouldn't understand any of this. Instead, she just shrugged. “I dunno. He
likes sports. And getting into mischief. Candy.”

Jenna snorted. “Is that your way of politely calling him overweight?”

Hermione laughed, “No, not at all. I said he's likes sports!”


Both girls continued to laugh as they made their way down the aisle, pushing a near-empty cart.
This was turning into a long day.


-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

*It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas
Ev'rywhere you go;
Take a look in the five and ten glistening once again
With candy canes and silver lanes aglow.
It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas
Toys in ev'ry store
But the prettiest sight to see is the holly that will be
On your own front door*

**“****It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas****”** **Johnny Mathis**

**And….that's it. I feel like if I add anything else, I will just be dragging this chapter
out. Eh, not my best, but there isn't a whole lot going on right now. Hopefully the next
chapter will be more exciting. Well, thanks for reading, and please leave me a review!**

**P.S.** **The next time you all hear from me, I'll probably be graduated!!! Less than a
month!!!! ^-^**

**Thanks!**

***~Archie~***

-->



20. Happy Christmas!
--------------------



**Hello all! So, it's been awhile, though fortunately, not too long. I wish I had an excuse
as to why this hasn't been updated, but honestly, I don't! I graduated high school last May
and, well, I haven't been doing much since! Blame my boyfriend, haha. Anyway, here is the next
little chapter, a nice 18 ish pages for you! I almost feel as if it's pointless and doesn't
take the story anywhere, but at the same time, it was kinda fun to write. Hopefully you'll see
why. It's supposed to be slightly humorous. I know it's short, but don't fret. Things
should be getting pretty crazy REALLY soon in my story, so stay with me!**

**Well, enjoy!!**

**Chapter Nineteen:** **Happy Christmas!**

“Hm, perhaps he would like a movie?” Jen offered, picking up the newest Will Smith film. Up a
bo

Hermione shrugged disinterestedly. He loved movies but didn't like watching them. Hermione
led her cousin over to another aisle that held candles and clocks. Nothing seemed to cater her eye.
Possibly a picture frame? No.

Hermione pressed forward to the hygienic section of the store. She could use a new toothbrush,
but she always got expensive ones with a large discount from the dentist office where her parents
worked.

“So what's this private school like?” Jen asked, picking up a bottle of cologne and taking a
sniff. She gave a shrug and presented it to Hermione, who took one whiff and recoiled.

“I dunno. Fascinating describes it well. It's quite large and made of stone, almost like a
castle. The students are divided into four separate groups for living quarters and such. The
classes are simple enough, though a few are quite challenging as well. There's a lake and a
heavily wooded forest with a rather mysterious air.” Hermione responded as she picked up an
electric shaver.

“Sounds pretty.” Jen replied with a smile.

“Oh most definitely. It's brilliant. Very secluded and wonderful scenery.” Hermione picked
up a second shaver to compare. Perhaps Harry would enjoy having one of these?

Jen laughed. “And are the blokes just as spectacular looking as the scenery? How about this
Harry fellow?” She asked coyly, taking the shaving device from her cousin to take a look at the
gift idea herself.

Hermione felt her face begin to heat up. She knew Harry was a handsome bloke. She had
established that much a long time ago after meeting him before her Apparation test. Since then, she
hadn't really paid much attention, seeing as how more important things had been going on. She
forced a nonchalant shrug. “I suppose he's handsome enough.” She said off-handedly.

Jen rolled her eyes. “So you're basically saying he isn't very attractive at all.”

“I didn't say that! I mean, he's my friend. Obviously I don't ogle at him or
anything.” Hermione half-shrieked defensively while spontaneously making up her mind about the
electric shaver and adding it to the cart. It would be an appropriate Christmas gift for her
friend.

“Hermione, it's okay. He doesn't have to be a good-looking bloke. I'm not going to
think any less of you. Calm down.”

“Fine, he's absolutely gorgeous! He has the greenest eyes I've ever seen and that messy,
jet-black hair to go along with it. His body is nicely built. And he has these perfect teeth!
Imagine, *me* saying someone has perfect teeth!” Hermione shot back with a playful huff before
letting out a slight giggle of embarrassment.

“Aw, my cousin has a *crush*!” Jen said through laughter.

Hermione blushed even further. “Don't be daft. Of course I don't. That's ridiculous.
Just appreciating beauty, that's all. Y-you made me!” Hermione sputtered in response before
pushing the cart back towards the main aisle, in search of wrapping paper with her cousin in toe,
still taunting and teasing through her snickers.

00000

A few hours later, Hermione could be found in her room, with all her presents for people wrapped
neatly and in a meticulous manner. Her cousin carelessly snooped through her things as she stacked
the gifts in the corner of her room. Hermione had already taken the caution of hiding all of her
magical things. The family on her mother's side did not know anything about the Wizarding
World. Even many Grangers did not know of its existence. There were those that did, but
Hermione's mother and father still tried to keep the magical business swept under the rug, not
wanting to cause any trouble. No one needed to know that Hermione had decided to take part in the
magical world. Hermione was more than okay with their decision. Her grandma was about the only one
that knew her secret.

Jen sat down at Hermione's desk and turned on her cousin's laptop, almost bored.
Hermione's room had been so plain. Nice, but plain. And she couldn't find any dirt on her
cousin to tease her (good-naturedly of course) with. “What do you say we go shopping, Herms?” she
asked, as she Googled free online games.

Hermione rolled her eyes and laughed. “Jen! We just got back from shopping!” She pointed
out.

Jenna shrugged. “I know. But that was yucky Christmas shopping. We need to find outfits for
Christmas dinner! We don't want to disappoint any boys that might be there!” Jenna replied with
a wink, closing her game and jumping up.

Hermione's eyes widened. “Jenna! You *do* realize this is a *family* dinner,
right? Everyone there will be family!”

Jenna scoffed. “Don't be ridiculous, Herms. You *do* realize this is a *Granger*
family dinner, right? That means they will be part of *your* family, not mine.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Honestly, close enough! And stop calling me that!”

Jenna laughed. “Herms Herms, oh Hermy Herms.”

Hermione grabbed her coat in response and headed downstairs, with her cousin in toe, continually
saying that annoying nickname in a singsong voice.

Forty minutes later, the two girls were now at a mall, going through the latest trends. Hermione
had brought her present from Jenna and her parents that Jenna demanded she open before Christmas, a
digital camera. As they tried on funny clothes, the two took ridiculous photos of themselves.
Laughing, as they walked from store to store, Hermione realized she hadn't had this much fun in
a long time. Sure, being Harry—and now Draco and Ron—was fun, but this was a girly, different kind
of fun she wasn't used to at all. And she decided that today, she was going to soak up as much
as she could.

00000000000000000000

Christmas break was boring. Not even 5 days into it, and Harry was already bored. Everything at
his house had been done before. His parents were still working. His video games were still the
same. His guitar held no interest. Ron and Draco were both at their own houses. Hermione was home
as well. He decided he missed her. He glanced over at her present in the corner of his room and
grinned slightly. She would love it. She made too many references to the TV show not to.

He sighed. Was she as bored as he was? Did she miss him? He wouldn't mind taking a walk
around the lake with her right now or maybe even playing a game of Wizard's Chess that she
claimed to hate, though he knew she secretly loved it. Before he could stop himself or even realize
what he was doing, Harry found himself searching for his pre-paid cell phone that he sometimes used
when he was home. He dialed information. After giving the city Hermione lived in, he asked for the
number for Darrel and Sharon Granger. He quickly scrawled the number down and dialed that one next.
After a few rings, a man's voice came on the phone.

“Hello, Grangers' residence.”

Harry had to stifle a laugh. Definitely Hermione's father. “Er, hello. Is…may I speak to
Hermione, please?” Harry stammered, feeling nervous.

There was a pause for a moment. “Hermione?” Hermione's father asked, almost uncertainly.

Hermione heard what must have Hermione's mother's voice in the back ground, “Who is it
dear?”

Harry coughed. “Yes, sir. This is Harry, a friend of hers from school.”

“Harry Potter, I presume?” Hermione's father asked, his voice lighter this time.

Harry nodded, then realized he couldn't see him so he quickly spoke, “Yes, sir.”

“Well I'm sorry, Harry, but she isn't home right now. She went out about an hour ago.
Can I take a message?” Darrel asked.

“Oh.” Harry hadn't expected her not to be there. “Um, do you know when she will be home?”
Right after he asked, Harry mentally kicked himself. It wasn't any of his business. No reason
to be nosey.

He heard a small laugh. “Honestly, I haven't the slightest clue. When her and J get
together, there's no telling. Shall I tell her you called? Or, actually, she has her
mother's cell phone. Would you like for me to give you the number?” Mr. Granger asked.

Jay? Who was Jay? Was that a guy? Before Harry could stop himself, he quickly took down the cell
phone number and politely told Hermione's father goodbye.

He stared at the number. Was she on a date? He would hate to call her while she was in the
middle of a date. She must know this Jay character pretty well, especially if her father knows him.
Or her. But probably a him. He didn't know any girls with the name Jay. He didn't know any
blokes either, but that didn't matter. It was most definitely a guy name. “No, I am not going
to call. Surely her father will tell her I called.” Harry told himself aloud.

“But, she doesn't have your number.” He reasoned with himself.

“Technically I didn't have hers either. She could look me up just as easily.” He argued
back.

“You know she won't do that. Why would she? With the situation at hand.”

“True. Very true. Good point.”

“Of course you could just wait it out. Maybe call back tonight.” He told himself, pacing
now.

“Like that won't look stalkerish.”

“But calling her mother's phone could be just as stalkerish. Especially if she is on a
date.”

“But her father gave you permission and all but *begged* you to call her on that phone.
Maybe he doesn't like this Jay character very much.”

“Okay, if we're going to have this conversation, we may as well be honest. Begging was the
last thing he did.”

“True...wait…*we*? Am I seriously talking to myself…out loud? And even more, as two
separate people?”

He heard a laugh behind him and whirled around. Standing in the doorway was his father as well
as Sirius and Remus. Harry quickly blushed.

“Why yes, Harry, you are talking to yourself. Now I'm just hoping a physical fight breaks
out between the two of you. Perhaps you can even give Fletcher Reede a run for his money.” Sirius
said with a scoff.

Laughing, his father pulled a funny face, “*I'm kicking my ass…do you mind?!*”

Embarrassed, Harry tried to play it off. “What are you guys doing here? Ever heard of
knocking?”

Remus chuckled. “Not our fault the door was open.”

“So, who are you talking about, my schizophrenic son? I heard a few “hers” and maybe one or two
“shes” in there.” Harry's father demanded jokingly, walking further into the room.

Harry shrugged. “No one. It's nothing. So seriously, what's up? Going somewhere?” Harry
replied, trying to change the subject.

“You don't expect us to let you off that easily, now do you?” His father asked with a grin.
“You won't get anywhere with this attitude. Make that call. Break up the date. Let her know J
can't hold a candle to you.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “It's not like that. At all. I was just…nothing.” Harry responded
emotionlessly, now in almost a depressed mood.

Seeing he wasn't going to get anywhere with his son, James gave up. “Well, we figured since
your mother won't be home for awhile and we got off early, the four of us could go have a
blokes' night. We're thinking something along the lines of pizza and paintballing. Maybe
cause some mischief. Now, are you coming with us, or are you going to mope around over a girl you
don't have the guts to fight for and have a fight between your split personalities?” James
teased his son.

Harry forced a laugh. “Sounds good to me.” He glanced down at the piece of paper in his hands
that held the number where he could reach Hermione. Probably on her date. With Jay. He
unceremoniously pocketed the paper as well as his phone before following the three men
downstairs.

“Quick question, Harry. Now, when one part of you gets drunk and needs to toss your cookies
while the other personality needs to piss like a race horse, which gets dibs on the toilet? Do you
take turns or is it all just a bloody right mess?” Remus asked in a mock serious tone. Harry rolled
his eyes and gave his friend a playful punch.

The four men laughed and, still caught in his *Liar Liar* phase, James bursts out
dramatically, “The pen is blue…the pen is blue…the *god**-**damn* pen is
BLUUEEE!”

Everyone laughed and Sirius replied, “Give it a rest, ol' Prongs. You don't want to
throw out your hip getting overexcited.”

Harry and Remus snickered as James chased Sirius down the stairs and out of the house.

00000000

While hanging out with his youth-filled father and friends, Harry found it difficult to shake
thoughts of his friends and her company. He wanted to call her, but eventually decided it was too
late. She could be home by now, so which phone would he call? If he called the cell phone, he would
be chancing the possibility of looking stupid because his father advised him to go ahead and call
her on it a few hours ago. And he didn't. If he called the house phone, and if she still
wasn't home, her father may ask why he was calling again when already gave her the number she
could be reached at. The situation had become much too complicated at this point..

So instead, he spent his evening trying to think of other things. Thinking of other things
wasn't the hard part. The difficult task was ensuring thoughts of her didn't pop up while
he was thinking of other, completely unrelated subjects.

By the time he retired to his room, it was around 9 pm. He continually paced his room at this
point. Should he call? It wasn't too late, was it? Why did he even need to call? Instead, maybe
he could call Ron or Draco? But he didn't want to talk to them. Harry quickly pulled out his
phone and dialed Hermione's house number. She should be home by now. He allowed for his thumb
to hover over the SEND button for a few seconds before suddenly hitting END instead. He dialed
again. Before he could push SEND this time, he changed his mind once again and hit OPTIONS and SAVE
NUMBER. He saved it under Hermione. After getting his phone back to the main screen, he went under
contacts and made her one of his speed dials. There. Number five.

He changed his mind and changed her to number four. No. Number eight. There. Replace his
uncle.

No. Seventeen. Her favorite number.

No. Took too long to dial. He went all the way up to number 2. He erased his father's spot
and replaced it with Hermione. There. Easy to get to.

Almost *too* easy.

No, it was going to stay.

He hit the number two and saw her name on the screen. END again.

“That's it, I'm doing it. Just…hit SEND dammit.” He reprimanded himself. “Great, I'm
talking to myself again.”

Clearing his mind, he slowly dialed the number once again, ignoring the fact he now had her on
speed dial and this time, hit SEND. The phone rang three times and he quickly hit END. They must be
asleep. He was stupid to be calling so late. Perhaps in the morning or afternoon he could—

*RING!*

The phone vibrated in his hand. He looked down and saw Hermione's name pop up on the
screen.

*RING!* The phone shrieked a second time, and once again, it was accompanied by vibration.
Caller ID.

He interrupted the third ring by finding hitting SEND. “Er…hello?” he asked weakly.

“Hello.” A voice answered. Mr. Granger again. “I noticed you just called. May I ask who this
is?”

`*Lie!'* a voice commanded in his head. *`Say you got the wrong number. Ask if they
deliver pizza. Ask for the specials. JUST SAY SOMETHING!* *He didn't recognize the number!
LIE!**'* “This is Harry Potter again, sir. I…I was just calling to see if Hermione made
it back.”

There was a silence on the other end of the phone.

Finally, he was met with the response, “Do you have problems, boy?”

Harry was unsure what to say. “Er…sorry sir, but…pardon?”

“I'm not sure how to take you. You called earlier. I gave you a number to call her at, which
you must not have called. Then you call here. And hang up. Do you have issues of some kind?” Mr.
Granger asked, in a polite, yet stern voice.

“I'm sorry sir. I didn't call the cell phone because I didn't want to interrupt her
time with…her friend. I'm sorry if I called too late. If you want, you can just tell her I
called and—”

Mr. Granger interrupted his rambling. “I'm going to put you on hold. Just a moment
please.”

And with that, the other line went silent. Did he honestly just get put on hold. Harry waited
for about a minute and a half before the line came back to life.

“Harry?” a voice asked, half surprised, half amused.

Embarrassed at this point, Harry didn't know what to say back. Finally, he mustered a “Hi
Hermione.”

“Are you okay? My father said something about you being slightly mad…everything alright?” She
asked, and Harry could hear the smile in her voice he knew she must be wearing.

“Um, how about we just say I'm having a few technical difficulties in the communication
department and leave it at that?” Harry asked, lying down on his bed on his stomach.

Hermione laughed. “Okay, sounds fair. So…how are you? To what do I owe this pleasure?” she
asked.

How could he respond? Say that he missed her and had been thinking about her, and wanted to hear
her voice?

He could tell her the truth. Shouldn't be too hard. He took a semi-deep breath.

“I'm dying.”

“What?!” Hermione almost shouted into the phone.

Okay, wrong move.

“Um, just kidding. I…er…Hedwig is sick and I was wondering if you knew what could help her.”

“Honestly, Harry, don't scare me like that! So…Hedwig is sick? What's wrong with her?”
Hermione asked.

He drew a blank for a few seconds and said the first thing that came into his mind. “I think
she's pregnant.”

“Oh.” Hermione replied, mildly surprised. “What makes you say that?”

“She…has been eating a lot?” Harry said weakly.

Hermione laughed. “There's nothing wrong with Hedwig at all, is there?” she asked.

Harry could hear the mirth in her voice. Finally, he decided to come clean.

“Okay, fine. I'm not dying and Hedwig isn't pregnant. What's going on is a lot more
serious.”

“Which is…?” Hermione coaxed.

“They're beating me, Hermione!” Harry whined. “And won't let me have food!”

Hermione giggled at his whiney voice. “You're impossible, you know that right?”

Harry laughed, “I know. So how are you?” He wanted to ask who Jay was, but didn't.

“I'm doing quite well. My cousin is visiting. We've been hanging out basically. Going to
the mall and such. It's been fun.” Hermione replied cheerfully.

Cousin. Jay must be her cousin. Harry suddenly felt like a jackass. “Jay, I'm assuming?” He
asked, to make sure.

“Well, her name is Jenna. How did you know?” Hermione asked quizzically.

“Your father said something about it when I called earlier.”

“Oh. So…apart from the abuse, how are you?”

Harry gave a shrug. “I'm okay. I miss Hogwarts. I'm bored. I may even miss you a bit.”
Harry said, which seemed to be the understatement of the century at the moment.

“Well, I'm sorry you're bored. I'm impressed you miss Hogwarts though. I actually
have been enjoying the break. We've been working so hard, especially with our N.E.W.T.S coming
up.”

“Yeah, I suppose. This could be a bad thing though. With our brains unstimulated for such a
lengthy time period. Hopefully it doesn't cause any lasting effects. That could be disastrous.
Maybe we should go back early. Especially before I get brain damage or something.” Harry responded
in a mock serious tone.

Hermione scoffed. “You're such a goofball. If it's that bad then—” Hermione's voice
paused and Harry could hear a voice in the background. A girl. Probably her cousin. “Sorry about
that. I should probably get off here. Jenna is back from the shower. Um, maybe if you want, you can
call me again sometime if you get bored?” Hermione asked awkwardly.

Harry's mood, which had been lifted since their conversation started, darkened slightly.
“Okay. When is she going home? It's getting late so you should probably call me on my cell
phone so I don't wake your parents. I think your father thinks I have problems.”

Hermione laughed. “What gives you that idea?”


“Because he asked me if I have problems.”

“Hm, I see where you could get that idea then. Anyway, she's actually staying here.
She's been here for the last few days.”

Harry frowned but recovered quickly. “Okay, well I guess I'll go back to starving and being
beaten…”

Hermione rolled her eyes. His antics were so silly. “How about I call you before I go to bed?
Will you be up for awhile?”

“Yeah. Just give me a call. Or not. Whatever you want to do. But I'll probably be awake…not
waiting by the phone kind of awake but you know…Ron might come over…who knows?” Harry replied,
trying to act nonchalant.

“At this hour?” Hermione asked skeptically.

“I think I'm going to get off here now before I make an ass out of myself any more than I
already have.” Harry said.

“Haha, okay. Maybe I'll call you later to make sure you are still alive?”

“Sounds like a plan. Goodbye Hermione.” Harry said.

“Bye.” Hermione responded before hanging up.

Harry laid there in his bed, mulling over the conversation in his head. He *was* a
jackass.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Hermione waited for her cousin to fall asleep—after ending teasing about Harry, before she
slowly got out of bed and dug through one of her drawers. She pulled out an almost-new Sudoku book
she had. After quickly jotting down a small note, she sent it off with Miguel with a smile on her
face before grabbing the cordless phone and heading to the sitting room.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

The next few days past by rather uneventfully. Hermione and Harry talked on the phone for at
least a few minutes every day as Christmas drew nearer. Hermione told him all about the big Granger
dinner they would be having in a small dining hall in town. Harry told her about everything he had
been up to with his parents and Ron and Draco. He had also thanked her for the puzzle book and
informed her he appreciated the gift for those who “*need a resourceful outlet to stimulate their
brain because they are creatively challenged.*” Slightly insulted, but appreciative nonetheless.
Now that the first few initial days of break had past, Ron and Draco came over and hung out some,
which helped makes the days go faster for Harry. On Christmas Eve, as Harry pondered when to send
out Hermione's gift, he made the decision to instead pop away from his own Christmas brunch and
deliver it to her in person. Hermione had told him that she and her cousin were going to some sort
of frozen yogurt place that held a small party-like celebration for a few hours every Christmas
before closing for the holiday. He figured he could just show up after brunch and surprise her.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Hermione and Jenna laughed as they ran through the street. The snow had fallen quite heavily for
awhile, but had reduced to small snowflakes now, floating angelically in the air. It was
Hermione's favorite kind of snow. They were almost to the frozen yogurt restaurant. They were
holding a special sale as well as celebration for Christmas. She would come every year with her
parents, however, this year, her parents were busy with the Christmas dinner. They shooed the two
girls off and said they could handle the whole thing and told them to enjoy the frozen yogurt.

After waiting in line for a rather long while, Hermione and Jenna finally managed to find a
small table outside in the falling snow. As they sat there, enjoying their cold treat, Hermione
heard a familiar voice behind her and felt the cold sting of a snowball hitting her cheek.

“Oh, you're right, Chloe, the faces of freaks *do* make good, easy targets.” Becky said
in a fake, surprised voice.

Hermione's head whipped around to meet the eyes of about five or six girls. She recognized
them all as old classmates. Her mind suddenly went back to that painful day at Girls' Club.
Becky, Sabrina, Chole. They were all there. She should have known they couldn't part for even a
few minutes, let alone Christmas vacation.

Jenna scoffed. “What do you think you're doing?!”

The girls ignored her, however. They all closed in on Hermione.

Hermione had been caught off guard and didn't know what to do. Usually, she had a witty
retort on the tip of her tongue. But no. This was the last thing she has expected to encounter
today. Insults and hateful names were flying her way. All she could do was glare. Glare and stumble
back. Jenna was so shocked she didn't know what to do either. Their attack was too
surprising.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Harry walked towards the lot that crowded around the yogurt restaurant. Children were having
snowball fights and many adults were sharing laughs. It looked like a nice, cheerful place. He
smiled. He had shrunk Hermione's present and had it in his pocket. As he neared the crowd, he
began his search for Hermione. Inside was too crowded so he decided to look outside first.

His eyes fell on a group of a few girls saying some rather rude and nasty things. He rolled his
eyes then suddenly stopped when he heard Hermione's voice respond to their rude words. She was
telling to leave her alone. He rushed a few feet forward and stopped dead. He saw two girls,
Hermione and who he assumed was Jenna, surrounded by five or six girls. They were taunting her. The
scene of Hermione and Cho came to mind. But here, Hermione was totally different. She wasn't
fighting back the way she always had before. No, she was almost cowering. Turning the other cheek.
Anger boiled inside of him.

They were calling her ugly now. He could see Hermione getting angrier by the second. Her face
was red. One suddenly accused her of being a lesbian with Jenna because she knew there was no way
she could every get a bloke. That was the last straw. Harry suddenly shouted Hermione's name
and sprinted the last few yards to greet her. She looked up to meet his eyes and they widened in
surprise.

“Harry?” she called. Everyone was looking him now. He did the only thing he could think of. He
rushed to her and swept her up in his arms and spun them around.

“Oh Merlin baby, I've missed you so much! These last few days have been Hell! Happy
Christmas!” Wanting to leave no room for disbelief, he pulled her head down and rushed his lips to
hers. He kissed her for several seconds before finally pulling away. Hermione's cheeks were
flushed. Everyone stared.

“I've missed you so much!” Harry repeated, kissing her again then throwing her over his
shoulder, laughing and spinning around. Finally, he sat her down and acknowledged the girls
surrounding them, jaws dropped.

“If you will excuse us, ladies, I need to give my gorgeous girlfriend here her private Christmas
present so, if you don't mind me stealing her away…” He gave a wink and grabbed her hand and
led her from the crowd.

Jenna laughed. She looked back at the girls and spit before saying, “Bitches. She's shagging
the hottest bloke around,” before gleefully going after the happy couple.

**And there you go! I hope everyone enjoyed it. Please, please review!!! I didn't get much
of a response last time, so that kind of sucks. I realize there are a lot fewer readers in general
on Portkey, but still! When I get a lot of reviews, it makes me actually want to write. Honestly, I
had to force this chapter almost, haha. I had nothing to do today so I did this as a last resort!
:P Anyway, like I said, I hope you like it and please let me know what you thought. I don't
think it took a big step forward, but you have to have some filler chapters every once in awhile I
guess.**

**So, as a graduation/later birthday present me…REVIEW!!!**

**Also, I've written a new story, My Own Prison. It's something short and almost
controversial on here, lol. If you check it out, keep an open mind. Anyway, thanks for
reading!**

**Until next time…**

***~Archie~***

**P.S. I know I haven't replied to all the reviews from last chapter yet, but I will
sometime this week!!! Probably tomorrow!**

-->



21. Harry Potter: To Catch A Granger Under The Mistletoe
--------------------------------------------------------



**Hi! This chapter is 35 lovely pages for you, almost 11,000 words or something. I was going to
make it two parts, but instead decided to just make it one big one because I couldn't see a
good spot to split it up. Anyway, I want to say thanks to all those who have stayed with my story.
I know it's been a long time coming, but I'm trying! I want to give a special thanks to
Mark, Lisa, and Alyssa for the extra help. You've all been great! Haha, well, I'm going to
stop so you can read.**

**Disclaimer: Nothing mine. Except Jenna. The characters and Christmas songs belong to richer
people.**

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter Twenty**

**Harry Potter:** **To Catch A Granger Under The Mistletoe**

*You shouldn't kiss me like this
Unless you mean it like that
Cause I'll just close my eyes
And I won't know where I'm at
We'll get lost on this dance floor
Spinnin' around
And around
And around
And around

They're all watchin' us now
They think we're falling in love
They'd never believe we're just friends
When you kiss me like this
I think you mean it like that
If you do baby kiss me again*

“You Shouldn't Kiss Me Like This” TOBY KEITH

**+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++**

“Hermione! You naughty girl! Sure, you told me how absolutely gorgeous he was, but you
didn't tell me you were an *item*! *Just* a friend, eh? I wish some of my friends
would snog me like that in the middle of the street!” Jenna exclaimed gleefully to her flush-faced
cousin.

Harry's eyes widened at Jenna's revelation and tried to say cheekily, though he was
honestly as nervous as could be. “Gorgeous, huh? No wait, absolutely gorgeous?! Hermione Jane, do
you fancy me? Or is it just my strong, physical and sexual charm that you desire?”

Hermione's face reddened to an even more prominent shade of pink. “Uh…I-I” she stammered
before stopping and dropping her face hopelessly in her gloved-hands. She was so embarrassed at the
moment. And she didn't' even know why. Obviously the last few events were all potentially
embarrassing, but still, she couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. What Jenna had said
wasn't really that big of a deal, not really. Her mind was scattered after what had just
occurred, that was for sure. How dare he do that? What was he doing here in the first place? Except
she did know why he did that. And that's what hurt her the most. That he saw her get bullied
like that and felt sorry for her. Sure, he had seen it before at Hogwarts, but that was different.
There was a reason why she was harassed so in the Wizarding World. But here in the Muggle World,
there wasn't any other reason than that she was the person she was. It was purely “her fault”
in a sense. Yes, she had told Harry about the hazing, but it was so much worse when he had to
witness it. Her cousin as well. Jenna never had to deal with this sort of thing, so Hermione never
shared it with her. For this to all happen now was overwhelming.

Hermione suddenly fell to her knees as tears stung at the corners of her eyes. She kept her face
buried. No one would see her cry.

“Hermione?” Harry's gentle voice called as he dropped to his knees in front of her. He
attempted to pull her hands away from her face, but Hermione held them there tightly. He looked up
at Jenna, who had an awkward look on her face and was at a loss at what to do.

“She lives just right around the corner…how about I go ahead and get lunch started and give you
two a moment?” Jenna asked softly, not wanting to intrude.

Harry nodded. He waited until Jenna was a few yards ahead before pulling Hermione close to him
and wrapping her in a hug. The sight of Hermione crying terrified him. Unsure of what to do, he
just kept stroking her hair, hoping she didn't feel as self-conscious as him regarding this
unfamiliar position for them.

“Hermione? Please look at me.” He begged in a sincere voice, trying once more to pull her arms
away. At first, she put up a struggle before finally relinquishing. She refused to meet his eyes,
however. Harry had to lightly force her chin up. He gave her a small smile, which she reluctantly
returned. “That's better.” He said.

Hermione suddenly felt foolish. Here she was, in the middle of the sidewalk, on her knees in the
snow and crying like a child.

Harry made an attempted to wipe the tears from her eyes.

“Ow!” Hermione yelped.

Harry reddened and swore under his breath. “Sorry! I wasn't aiming to poke you in the eye!”
He quickly apologized before making another attempt. Hermione kept wiggling under his hand and
Harry thought he was going to poke her in the eye again. “Er, maybe you should do it?” He asked,
almost laughing at the whole scenario. Hermione nodded and wiped away the remaining tears easily.
Harry stood gingerly and offered Hermione a hand. “Are you okay?”

Hermione accepted and allowed him to pull her to her feet. “I'm fine. Bloody humiliated, but
fine nonetheless. Nothing new, I suppose. Hey, what's a holiday without a little emotional
scarring, eh?” She half-joked.

“Why are you humiliated?” Harry asked as they began to walk down the street.

Hermione shrugged. “Well, I would have preferred *not* to have had those girls do that.
Especially with you present. And Jenna. Then for my first kiss to have been something forced like
that, just to make me look like less of a loser…well, that certainly is not what I had hoped for. I
mean, I'm not trying to sound unappreciative or anything. I am grateful for what you were
trying to do. Equally grateful you brushed your teeth today. Minty fresh. Or that could have been
bad. And even if it had been, I would still be grateful just the same.” Hermione flashed him a
grin, which made Harry's smile even wider. “And *then* for my cousin to make is sound like
I've *gushed* about you all break. That's a little awkward and uncomfortable,
isn't it? And if this isn't all humiliating enough, let's add me crying like a baby in
the middle of the sidewalk. Is Christmas over yet?” She asked, trying to lighten the mood after her
small rant.

Harry laughed. “Well, things could have been worse. I could *not* have brushed my teeth. Or
you could have had to have gone through all this with a wooden leg or something.” He offered.

Hermione rolled her eyes at his comic relief antics. “I suppose you're right.”

Harry smirked. “I'm Harry Potter, of course I'm right. I'm always right…and, from
what I hear, I'm *absolutely gorgeous* as well.” He added as an afterthought.

Hermione refused to let her cheeks even show a hint of pink. Instead, she rolled her eyes
dramatically once again before retorting smoothly, “Don't flatter yourself. I was just trying
to make you sound good.” Before giving him a playful yet powerful shove—which caused him to fall
into a snow pile. She squatted down so she was at his level and they were nose-to-nose. “I only
told her that in hopes to get you two together. Merlin knows you could use a girl.” She said in a
mock serious tone.

Harry grabbed her and pulled her beside him in the large heap of snow. He laughed and replied,
“A girl? Really?! I've got a *Hermione*, and when you have one of those, who needs a
girl?”

Hermione laughed.

Both teenagers got up and continued their walk back to Hermione's house.

“So, you never did tell me why you're here.” Hermione pointed out as the two rounded the
corner.

Harry snapped his fingers, “By Merlin, you're right! I actually came here to give you your
Christmas present!” He exclaimed excitedly. He walked over to the nearest bush and whipped out his
wand. He pulled her shrunken present out of his pocket and with a flick of his wand, it became
full-size. It was a rather large box wrapped rather messily with shiny, green foil paper with wide,
gleaming ribbons wrapped around it and creating an enormous bow on top. A big tag hung from one of
the ribbons and Hermione could read in Harry's familiar scrawl: *To Hermione From
Harry**.* Beside the tag was an envelope for a Christmas card. He gave her a grin and
taunted the present in front of her.

Hermione smiled. “You didn't have to do that.” She said.

“Rubbish, of course I was going to get you something, Hermione. Don't be daft.” Harry
replied dramatically, giving the box a small shake.

Hermione laughed. “No, you did have to get me something. Of course you did. I just mean you
could have owled it rather than bring it all the way here.” She explained in a mock-snobbish
voice.]

It was Harry's turn to smile. “No, no. That wouldn't do. This is too special. I wanted
to see your face.”

Hermione grinned back nervously. Special? She suddenly grew anxious. There wasn't anything
extraordinary about his gift from her. What if his was really great and made hers look stupid?
Surely he wouldn't laugh at her attempt. No, he would appreciate it nonetheless.

The rest of the walk passed far too quickly for Hermione. She refused to even look at the large
box Harry was so-proudly carrying. She did note that Harry seemed genuinely happy to see her as he
continued to chat all the way back to her house, however. Once they got back to the house, Hermione
gave Harry a tour of her house, trying to draw it out as long as possible. Harry appeared truly
interested, so she kept coming up with more details to say about the wood work and curtains.

Harry's first thought when walking into Hermione's house was that it was spotless.
Nothing was sitting out. He wasn't surprised. He had a sudden flashback to just a few weeks ago
when they were doing their essays in the Library.

*Harry watched as Hermione organized all of her writing utensils, parchment, and books on the
table. She made sure her essay was ninety degrees from her right shoulder for optimal writing
comfort, and that her book was the most favorable angle from the top right hand corner of her
essay.*

*He gave a stifled laugh regarding this now-familiar routine he had noticed she always did
before starting an essay. “What are you doing?” He finally asked with a raised eyebrow as she moved
her inkpot over just a tad bit.*

*Hermione looked up, confused with his expression. Puzzled, she asked, “What do you
mean?”*

*Harry nudged the ink well over a few centimeters. Hermione moved it back.*

*“Why must it be there?” He asked quizzically with a grin. “What's wrong with,” he moved
it back over, “Here?”*

*Hermione looked at him as if he were mad before pushing it back. “Because it goes*
here*, Harry.” She replied, as if it were the most thing in the world.*

*“But why there? Why can't it go where it was?” He asked again.*

*Hermione sighed.”Oh honestly. That's not the proper place, Harry. Everything has its
proper place. As for the ink, its proper place is right here, not there, but* here*.” She
finished slowly, as if explaining to a five year old why two and two was four.*

*Harry laughed. Suddenly Ron and Draco came over and Ron dropped into the empty seat beside
Hermione. He nudged her things over some to make room. Hermione gave a huff before gathering up her
things and exiting the Library, all the while saying, “And speaking of proper places, Ronald here
belongs in a dumpster with his kind, rats! Merlin knows they have about the same amount of couth
and manners!”*

*Ron looked after Hermione before looking over at Harry. “Did I say something?” He asked
before opening a chocolate frog .*

*Harry chuckled. “She had everything in its proper place,* Ronald*. You ruined her
equilibrium moment. Shame on you.”*

*Ron rolled his eyes. “She's nutters.”*

*“And Madam Pince will bit* *your* *head off if she sees you brought sweets into her
Library.” Draco informed him with a grin.*

*Ron through a shrug. “That old bat. Speaking of biting heads off…” Ron severed the frog's
head with a bite.*

*“Ronald Weasley! Get that filth* out *of my Library!” A shrill voice demanded from
behind.*

*Ron quickly shoved the rest of the frog into his mouth. With a mouth full of chocolate, Ron
called, “Filth? What filth? I don't see any filth* Madam Pince*!” He shook his head. “And
talking about nutters…that old bad it mental too!”*

*Draco wiped off a piece of spit from his robes that sprayed from Ron's mouth. “Hermione
gave you too much credit. Rats have* better *manners than you.”*

*Harry howled with laughter and nodded in agreement before quickly quieting* *down*
*when he got a death glare from the librarian for making too much noise.*

“Harry?” Hermione asked uncertainly, calling his name for a third time.

Harry blinked and shook his head as he was jarred from him reverie. Hermione was staring at him
quizzically.

“Is something wrong?” Hermione asked, looking almost worried.

Harry shot her a half-smirk. “Nothing, just thinking about how you like everything in its proper
place. I can see where the root cause of it is.”

Hermione slowly scanned the room before glancing down at the clean, shiny hardwood floor.
“Honestly, it's not exactly a *sin* to like things placed properly.” She argued
defensively.

Harry laughed. “So, I've seen the curtains and you've told me everything about the
woodwork. How about a quick tour of your room then?” Harry asked, tossing a look up the stairs.

Hermione smiled. “Oh no, Mr. Potter. No reason to go snooping in there.”

“Got a bunch of frills and pink stuffed animals on your bed you're wanting to hide then? Too
embarrassed to show it?” Harry teased.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I've got nothing to hide,” as she led the way upstairs
to her room.

After exploring and teasing Hermione about her painfully boring room—jokingly of course—Harry
finally took a seat in her Papuan chair, next to one of the many book shelves that lined her walls,
and gleefully brought Hermione's present up to his ear and shook it. “Time to open your gift!”
he declared with a grin.

Just as he said this, Jenna walked through the door. She stood there awkwardly for a second
before telling the pair of them, “Er…lunch is almost done so just come down to the kitchen
whenever.”

Hermione gave her cousin a nod before Jenna exited the room. She then looked back at Harry, who
was still holding up her present with a large grin.

“Shall we?” he asked, before give the wrapped package one last taunting shake.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Alright then, let's get this over with. Your present is under the
tree downstairs. I'll be right back.”

Harry was left alone in Hermione's room, smiling like a goof. He was so excited about this.
He knew she would just love it. He stood and allowed his eyes to sweep over the room again. Her
room was tidy and he was reminded very much of her room back at Hogwarts, with just more life and
color. Her bed was made neatly with the comforter he remembered from her Hogwarts dorm. A few
candles were scattered around, emitting a light scent in her room. He wasn't sure what it was,
but he knew he liked it. A large area rug of different patterns graced the center of the room,
contrasting nicely with the hardwood floor. He then walked over to her desk, which had her laptop
sitting on it. He noticed a music player was up, so he clicked PLAY and allowed “Carol of the
Bells” to fill the room.

“The sound of silence drive you mad, eh?” Hermione's voice from the door made him jump.

“Er…”

Hermione laughed. She was holding a medium-sized present wrapped in blue with snowmen all over
it and a large, silver bow. Mocking him, she gave her present a small shake before saying in a
voice trying to mimic his, “Shall we?”

They both took a seat Indian-style on the floor.

“You go first.” Harry said excitedly, shoving her his gift.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Oh all right.” She slowly began to tear open the paper as Harry
stared at her eagerly. She stopped and looked at him. “Must you watch me like that?” She asked
nervously. Harry nodded. Hermione continued with the paper, trying to ignore his gaze. Inside was a
large, brown box. She easily broke the seal and opened it, only to find another box. However, the
seal on this one was done with duct tape. After a few seconds, she was able to get that box open
well, only to, once again, find another box, this one a long rectangle. The seal on this one was
also done with duct tape. Lots and lots of duct tape that wrapped around the entire box. She looked
up at him in disbelief. He was shaking with laughter. “Are you kidding me?” she asked.

Harry just snickered. “Well, go on!” He urged.

Hermione began the painstaking task of trying to unwrap the duct tape. After a few minutes, she
finally gave a huff and jumped up to get her wand. Despite Harry's protests, she gave a flick
and cried, “Reducto!” The box was hoisted up in the air, levitated for a moment, before falling
back to the rug.

Harry smirked. “I thought you might try to take that route. So it's charmed. Hop to it,
Granger.”

Hermione turned her wand on him. “And I suppose you took the precaution to charm yourself as
well?” She asked.

Harry grinned. “Hermione…I know you realize I'm absolutely gorgeous and such. However, in
fact, my charm rivals my good looks. And when you have charm like that…I certainly don't need
to enhance it any further.” He replied smugly before giving her a wink.

“Here, prat, charm this.” Hermione shot back, waving her wand and causing a nearby pillow to fly
straight into Harry's head. They both laughed, then Hermione returned to her spot of the floor
and began to work on her present once more. After ten minutes of upwrapping several layers of duct
tape, Hermione was finally able to open the box. “Harry James Potter, if there is any more duct
tape in here, I swear I will hex you into next Christmas.” She warned him.

“As attractive as that sounds, I'm afraid this is the last box. Enjoy.” Harry replied.

Hermione opened the box and was met with a bunch of tissue paper. She sifted through it and
pulled out the gift. Once she read the cover, she suddenly stopped. No way. He didn't. She
couldn't believe. This much have been expensive. “Harry!” She shrieked before launching herself
forward to give him a hug, knocking him backward. She squeezed him tightly, muttering, “Thank you,
thank you, thank you!” over and over. Once she untangled herself from him, she continued to gush,
“This is the best Christmas present ever! Thank you so much!”

Harry laughed at her reaction. It met his expectations and then some. She looked so happy.

Hermione's eyes fell on her present to him and her happiness vanished. Her gift was nothing
like his. At all.

“I get to open mine now!” Harry cried as he moved to pick it up. Hermione quickly snatched it up
first. Harry looked at her quizzically. He made a move to take it back, but Hermione stood and ran
to the other side of the room. “What's wrong?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. “Did you get me
the same thing or something?” He said jokingly.

Hermione shook her head, near petrified. She was stupid. Her present was so impersonal and
bland. “This present isn't yours.” She lied, taking another step back.

Harry laughed. “Don't be silly. It has my name on it. I *saw* it, Hermione.” He told
her.

Hermione sighed before bluntly confessing. “My present to you sucks. It sucks and I don't
want you to open it. I'll…get you something better or something.” Hermione told him.

Harry grinned before reassuring her, “Hermione, I'm sure it doesn't suck. Stop being
silly.”

“But it does!” She shot back, her grasp on the box tightening.

“No it doesn't!” Harry replied.

“Yes it does!” Hermione cried back.

“Does not!”

Hermione ripped open the present and threw the box at him. “See? It sucks!” She said before
dropping to her knees.

“Well,” Harry replied in a snooty voice, “Now that you opened it and took away my favorite part
of opening presents, it *does* suck.”

Hermione didn't say anything.

Harry laughed and finished tearing off the paper so he could see what it was. An electric
shaver. He smiled. “Aw, thanks, Hermione. It's great, really.” He said with a grin. “Thanks! I
don't have one of these!”

Hermione sighed, “You hate it.”

“No, I don't hate it. I love it. It's a great gift. I think of the two of us, I faired
off better than you. I've always wanted one of these.” Harry declared.

Hermione shook her head. “You're not excited about it at all.”

Harry jumped up and ran over to her, tumbling her backwards and mimicked Hermione's actions
from earlier. He leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek. He stopped short, wet his lips up real
nice, and gave her a sloppy kiss. Hermione pushed him away and quickly wiped away his slobber.
“You're disgusting!” she stated with a mock look of revulsion, trying to hide her surprise.

Harry laughed and stood before offering her a hand and helping her up. As he let go, he realized
his forehead hadn't twinged one bit. In fact, he didn't recall it hurting at all today, and
he had had quite a bit of contact with Hermione. He grabbed Hermione's arm.

Hermione looked over at Harry and then down to his hand. “Something wrong?” she asked.

Harry grinned. “This doesn't hurt. Touching you…my head hasn't hurt at all today, not
even when we…you know.”

Hermione shrugged. “That's odd. Because usually it does. Are you sure there wasn't even
a little pang?” Hermione asked.

Harry nodded. Hermione moved over to sit on her bed. “Well, this is all quite odd. I've
looked up everything I could think of, and found nothing. It doesn't make sense. And now, all
of a sudden, it's gone? That makes even less sense.”

Harry nodded again. “I dunno, Hermione. Maybe, whatever it is, it's cured.”

“I don't think these things just suddenly cure themselves overnight, Harry.” Hermione
pointed out.

“True, but you never know. I mean, we've been so busy with things; it seems as if a lot of
things have just gone away. What about your dreams? When was the last time you've had one of
those?”

Hermione shrugged. “I dunno. It has been awhile. But I don't think that has anything to do
with it. I mean…well, honestly, those dreams…” Hermione gave a shiver. “I dunno, Harry.”

They were both quiet for a moment, as thoughts of Hermione's terrifying dreams
resurfaced.

Hermione finally broke the silence by clearing her throat. “Erm…well, I suppose it's nice I
don't hurt you anymore?” She offered with a smile.

Harry forced a laugh and reached over to squeeze her arm. However, this time, the familiar pain
rushed through his head and he quickly let go. He looked away.

Hermione didn't have to ask what had just happened. She could read it in his reaction. “…Or
not…” she finished, glancing down at her feet, almost ashamed now.

Harry sighed. “We were supposed to go to Dumbledore about this, but things have been so terribly
busy lately, with the N.E.W.T.S. and Quidditch and Christmas. We should probably really go talk to
him about this. It isn't normal. I mean, it doesn't happen when Ron or Draco touches you or
me or…I dunno.” Harry really didn't know what to say. Was it really that big of a deal?
Perhaps. Or maybe not.

Hermione nodded and looked over at her new present. It was such a great Christmas gift. “In the
mean time, Harry, Happy Christmas and thank you so much for the present. You will be getting yours
shortly.”

Harry laughed as the mood lightened. “Happy Christmas to you too. And really, it isn't
necessary. This,” He picked up the electric shaver, “Is great, really. Thank you.” He meant it. He
did love his new gift.

Hermione would hear none of it. “Absolutely not. I would feel terrible. Please, just let me
redeem myself?” Hermione asked seriously.

Harry could see this meant a lot to her. Finally, he sighed, “Alright. I will let you attempt to
outshine yourself and buy me another present. But please, don't make it something impractical
and stupid like an electric shaver or something. Come on, seriously! Can you say bloody
*lame*?!”

Hermione gave him a small shove, careful not to make contact with his skin. With a satisfied
smile, she suggested, “Shall we go to lunch then?”

Harry gave a nod and followed Hermione out of the room. Once they walked into the kitchen, Jenna
greeted them with a smile. “Now there's the two lovebirds!”

Both Harry and Hermione blushed and tried to laugh it off.

Hermione held up a hand to stop her. “Really, it's not like that. We really are just
friends. Harry just has some boundary issues…obviously.” As she laughed, she looked over at Harry,
who gave a dramatic sigh before nodding in agreement.

Jenna gave a mock Hermione-Granger-eye-roll before giggling. “Okay then. So…lunch then? Or maybe
official introductions? I'm Jenna Detweiller, official favorite cousin.” Jenna introduced
herself.

“Harry Potter, official best friend from school.”

“And I'm Hermione Granger, official…I dunno, let's just eat! I'm famished!”

Soon, the three teens were engrossed in their lunch that the morning's events were far from
their mind.

As lunch ended, Jenna asked how long Harry would be staying with them and asked whether he would
be attending the Granger Christmas party.

Hermione spoke up to reply, “Jenna! It's Christmas. I'm sure Harry has plans with his
own family. Why would he want to come tonight?”

Jenna shrugged.

Harry intervened. “Yeah, I wouldn't want to impose. I mean, sure, I don't have plans
tonight and my family already had their Christmas thing, but…well, I don't want to invite
myself or anything.” He looked at his almost-empty plate.

“Er…would you like to go, Harry?” Hermione asked, unsure. “Would it be…er…a good idea?”

Jenna jumped in. “Of course it would be a good idea. Didn't you hear him, Hermione? He
doesn't have plans. Why wouldn't it be a good idea?!”

Harry laughed. “I dunno. It's your family, so maybe I should just go home. Hedwig might be
pregnant again or something, who knows?” He asked cheekily.

“Hedwig? Who's that?” Jenna asked quizzically.

“My pet owl.” Harry responded without thinking.

Hermione's eyes widened. Just how common was it for Muggles to have pet owls?

Jenna laughed. “You have a pet owl?”

Harry looked over at her and mock defensively responded, “Why yes, I do have a pet owl…would you
like to make something of it?”

The three teens all laughed. Nervously, Hermione faced Harry and decided to go ahead and extend
him an invitation to the Christmas party that night. “Harry, er, if you wanted to, I think it would
be great for you to come to the party. I mean, if you don't have anything to do and your
parents aren't missing you, that is.”

Harry grinned. His parents were going to a Christmas party tonight anyway being held by some
friends from the Ministry. He nodded, “I would love to go, Hermione. It sounds like fun.”

Hermione flashed a bright smile. “Well then, it's a date!” She exclaimed before hurrying to
correct herself, “Er, I mean it's settled. It's on the date December 25th.
Christmas…” She trailed off lamely.

An awkward silence fell over them before Jenna asked doubtfully, “So, you have an owl?”

Harry laughed and nodded his head.

Jenna replied bluntly. “You have a pet owl. You're fucking weird.”

And that concluded lunch.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Calls were made to let each of the parents know of the change in the night's plans.
Hermione's parents were excited to meet Hermione's new friend and welcomed his presence to
the party. Hermione's mother quickly ushered herself off the phone because now she had to go
pick out one more present for the party. Harry's parents were a little curious as to who this
new friend was, but told Harry to make sure he wasn't home too late. Harry needed to change his
clothes for the party, so he told the girls he was going to take a cab home and would be back
shortly. As far as Jenna knew, he didn't live too awfully far away. Once he was away from
Jenna, he Apparated home.

Once the cousins were alone, Jenna couldn't stop herself from asking Hermione about her
relationship with Harry.

Hermione blushed, “Really, we are just friends. Earlier, he did that because those girls were
making fun of me. We're just good friends.” Hermione assured her.

Jenna smiled, “Well, he seems like a great bloke. So, if you ever do become more, I definitely
approve. What did he get you for Christmas?” She asked, remembering the present she had seen him
carry.

“All ten seasons of Friends!” Hermione gushed. She was so excited about it.

Jenna smiled. “Wow. Where did he get it though? I mean, when we saw him, he didn't have
anything in his hands, then you guys walk in and he had a huge present?”

Hermione stiffened before quickly lying. She let out a fake laugh. “He actually left it in the
cab, and once the cabbie noticed, he drove back down that street because I guess Harry had told him
where he was going today, and luckily, he spotted us.” It wasn't the best story, but it was
enough to cause Jenna to shrug before heading for the shower.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Harry quickly showered and picked out a nice pair of black dress pants and emerald green button
down. He opted for no tie and searched for a pair of black socks. After looking in the mirror and
messing with his unruly hair for five minutes, he gave up and put on some shoes. After a quick few
squirts of cologne and one last look in the mirror, he grabbed his phone and wallet before
Disapprating and returning to Hermione's kitchen.

000000

Hermione looked in the mirror before casting an eye over to her dress for the evening she had
picked out with her cousin when they had gone shopping. Jenna loved dressing up, and was more than
willing to help Hermione find something suitable as well. Hermione hadn't wanted anything too
flashy. With a nervous sigh, she straightened her strapless bra in the mirror for a final time
before picking up her dress and unzipping the back. She stepped into it easily and pulled the
halter top over her head. It took her a few seconds to finally manage to get the back zipped up.
She stepped up to the mirror and took a look at her evening ware. A smile crept over her features.
It was a silky black floor-length dress with a halter top. The bodice fit snuggly around her
middle, making her a little self-conscious. She wasn't the skinniest girl, by any means.
However, the dress gave the illusion that her hips were actually smaller. The v-neckline didn't
plunge too dramatically, which she appreciated. It was a family event, after all. It showed that
she was indeed a woman, but with plenty of class. The dress continued fittingly down to her knees,
which is where it flared out a bit before reaching the floor, allowing her to have no trouble
walking. Vines of white flowers stretched from the halter top to the flaring bottom of the dress in
a nice design that caught her eye. The back of the dress dipped to about her mid back, showing off
her shoulder blades and part of her back. It really was a beautiful dress.

**(Here is a link to the dress. Just imagine it with white flowers rather than
turquoise.**


**http://www.elegantmart.com/Fashion/Black-and-Turquoise-Fancy-Dress-Size-Small__7003.aspx)**

Her cousin had pulled her hair back so it was half-up on top of her head, while the rest of her
bushy brown hair hung down on her bare back. Her hair wasn't tamed, but her cousin had managed
to style it to where that didn't really matter, and the waves actually worked out nicely. She
wore light make-up and silver earrings that hung just a few inches below her eyes. A necklace she
had gotten for Christmas the previous year draped over her neck, silver and dipping slightly with
the v-neck of the dress. She slipped on her silver open-toed shoes with a small, chunky heel. She
never was on to walk in high heels very successfully. Her cousin walked in and gave her a
whistle.

“Cousin, you be looking fiiiinnnneee.” She said with a giggle. Jenna never was one for much
subtly. Her dress was a deep red that went to her knees. The silky fabric was then covered with a
sheer, black lace with flowers and small rhinestones for the center of the flowers. Her dress was
strapless and she had large hoop earrings in that were Hermione's. Red lipstick stained her
lips, matching her other bold make-up. Hermione smiled as she watched her cousin put on a
bracelet.

“Your parents said they will be here any minute to pick us up. Well, your father anyway. Your
mother is there, getting ready. Shall we go see how strapping Harry looks?” Jenna asked
cheekily.

Hermione laughed but couldn't help but feel nervous. Harry had never seen her like this
before, and she was a little worried about his reaction. What if he thought she looked stupid? What
if he thought she looked beautiful? Hermione took one last look in the mirror. Not to be vain, but
she crossed her fingers and thought Harry would surely think she looked stunning. Hopefully.

Harry was sitting on the couch when the two girls made their way downstairs. Hermione didn't
want Jenna to make a big deal about it entering the room, but Jenna would hear none of it. Her
mentality was if a woman was going to take the time to look good for a man, then she earned the
right to make an entrance and the man better damn well appreciate it.

“Oh yoohoo, Haarrrryyyy. Are you ready to see my breathtaking cousin?!” Jenna asked as she
rushed in front of Hermione to get Harry's attention. Harry laughed and stood as Hermione began
to walk down the stairs.

Hermione had to fight the urge to walk slowly down the stairs like she had seen in all the
movies. No, this was nothing like that. She would simply walk down the stairs as if she was only in
jeans and a hoody. However, even with that mentality, Hermione couldn't fight the large,
embarrassed grin that crept over her features. Blushing she finally made her way to Harry, who was
grinning madly.

“Wow.” His voice was slightly higher than usual. He cleared his throat and gave a cough. “Er,
wow, Hermione. You look…absolutely amazing. You…” He laughed. “Really, you look *absolutely
gorgeous*.” He gave her a wink.

Hermione blushed even more. Jenna broke the silence easily. “Well, Hermione. You just got the
high-pitched-slash-must-clear-his-throat-and-give-a-nervous-laugh reaction. Congratulations. He
wants you.”

Before anyone could say anything else, the door opened and Hermione's father stepped in. He
shook his head to shake some of the snow off his head before closing the door. “Merry Christmas,
everyone! Are we ready?” He asked. “Wow, you girls look fantastic.” He came over and pulled them
each into a hug before dropping a kiss on top of his daughter's head. He looked over at Harry
and held out his hand. “You must be Harry. Hello. I'm Darrel. You've managed to clear up
your issues, I imagine?” He asked, shaking Harry's hand.

Harry didn't know what to say and looked at Hermione for help.

Hermione burst out laughing as her family joined in. “He's just kidding, Harry.”

Harry gave a nervous laugh. “It's nice to meet you, Mr. Granger.”

“Please, call me Darrel. I'm going to just grab a few things real quick then we'll be
off. Make sure you grab your coat!” Hermione's father said before heading towards his
bedroom.

“Oh, that reminds me. I forgot my purse upstairs. It has my camera in it.” Hermione exclaimed
before turning towards the stairs.

“I'll go get it; I have to get my coat anyway.” Jenna said before going back upstairs,
leaving Harry and Hermione alone in the living room.

“You do look really great, Hermione.” Harry assured her, now that they were alone.

Hermione smiled. “Thanks. So do you, Harry. I love your shirt. It really brings out your eyes.”
Hermione replied.

“Why thank you, Miss Granger.” Harry responded.

Hermione opened the coat closet and pulled out her brown coat. “May I help you with your coat?”
Harry asked. Hermione smiled and handed it to him. Just as he held it out for her, he stopped her
and said, “Wait, you didn't zip yourself up all the way.” He reached over and eased the zipper
of her dress up the last little bit with slightly shaking hands before helping her with her coat.
Blushing, Hermione thanked him for being such a gentlemen before the other two returned and they
headed out the door.

0000000000000000000000

The party was in full swing by the time the four of them made it there. The hall was decorated
marvelously. A large Christmas tree was in one corner with many gorgeously wrapped packages under
with, trimmed neatly with bows. A long table lined one of the walls and had so many foods on it,
Harry was surprised. He didn't expect a party quite this extravagant. There were many more
people there than Harry had thought there would be. He shared these thoughts with Hermione. She
smiled and told him the Christmas party each year was a very big thing. It was the one time every
year almost the entire family got together. They would fly in from all over. Harry was impressed
and couldn't help but feel a slight pang of jealousy as Hermione was greeted by many of her
aunts and uncles and cousins and great-uncles and great-aunts. He couldn't remember the last
time he had seen so much of his family all at once. He pushed that thought from his mind. He was
here at a party with Hermione; he wasn't going to ruin it with thoughts like that.

“Oh, Hermione! Is that you? It's been so long dear!” A voice shrieked out from behind them.
Hermione spun around to see her father's Aunt Claudia. She grinned widely and gave the older
woman a hug. “Dear, you look fantastic. So beautiful!” Her aunt gushed, pulling Hermione in for a
second hug.

Hermione smiled. “Thank you, Aunt Claudia. I'd like for you to meet a few people. This,” She
said, referring to Jenna, “Is my cousin on my mum's side, Jenna. She is staying with my family
for a few days. And this is a friend from my school, Harry.” Hermione finished, ushering Harry
closer to them.

Hermione aunt smiled up at the teens through her squared spectacles. “Aw, that's great dear.
It's so nice to meet you. I've got to go find your father, but Merry Christmas!” She
replied cheerfully.

Hermione nodded and after one last hug, the small woman was on her way. Jenna took this moment
to excuse herself to the dance floor, saying something about some “gorgeous cousin of
Hermione's caught her eye.”

Hermione introduced Harry to many members of her family. She had always been sure to only say
his first name, however. No one raised an eyebrow of any sort, for which she was grateful. Harry
played the role of a gentlemen, laughing and smiling with all his new acquaintances. After about
half an hour of meeting new people and for Hermione, catching up, the two found a deserted table to
sit down.

Harry looked over at Hermione and said with a smile, “Thanks for bringing me here, Hermione.
It's a really great party.”

Hermione nodded. “Thanks for coming. Otherwise, this could be dreadfully boring.”

Harry laughed. “There's always your rather colorful cousin.” He offered.

It was Hermione's time to laugh, “Ha, no reason to joke, Harry! In her mind, she could end
up snogging someone here tonight! That's not the boat I want to be in.”

Harry nodded.

“What do you say we go see my grandmother before taking a seat?” Hermione offered before heading
over towards her grandmother's table.

“Hermione!” Her grandma greeted her, pulling her in close for a hug. After several long seconds,
she finally released her granddaughter. “And who's your friend, dear?” She asked, looking
closely at Harry.

Hermione smiled. “This is my friend from school. His name is Harry.” Hermione replied. “Oh,
it's so great to see you, Grandma! It's been ages. Do you mind if we take a quick picture?
Harry, do you mind?” Hermione asked. Harry took Hermione's camera and took two pictures of
Hermione and her grandmother. “I imagine Grandpa is around here somewhere?”

Her grandma nodded. “I think he's over there, talking with your father. So tell me,
how's school been? Your parents said there had been some bumps—” She gave Hermione a knowing
look—“But things are running smooth, now?” She asked.

Hermione didn't know what to say at first. She knew her grandma was referring to her running
away. “Things that needed to be done…were done. And now, things are pretty great.” She glanced over
at Harry, who was standing there awkwardly.

Her grandmother followed her gaze and smiled. “That's just lovely, dear.”

“Ah, what's so lovely?” a sing-song voice asked. “Hermione, is that you? You look so grown
up!” Hermione's Aunt Darlene swooped in the conversation. “Mum!” She bent down to give her
mother a kiss on the cheek.

Hermione smiled nervously. Her Aunt Darlene was one of the few in the family who had any
knowledge about the Wizarding World. She would never talk about it, but she wanted nothing to do
with it at all. She never knew about Hermione's ability, though there were times when Hermione
had often felt her aunt's beady eyes on her in almost a condemning way, as if she could read
her mind. It always made Hermione feel guilty and uncomfortable.

“And who is this dashing young man?” Her aunt asked, holding out a hand to Harry.

Harry shook it respectfully and replied. “Hi, I'm Harry. I'm a friend from
Hermione's school.”

“Ah, yes, the boarding school in Scottland, isn't it?” She asked, loosening the strap around
her neck that her camera dangled from.

After a few more minutes of uncomfortable questioning, Hermione and Harry finally managed to
break away and find an empty table.

The two sat there at the table and talked for a little while longer before they stood to get
their plates of food before returning to the table.

An hour or so passed, as Harry and Hermione hung out and were genuinely merry with the
evening's events. Hermione pulled her camera back out and the two of them took several
pictures, some goofy and some normal.

Harry was ecstatic to be there. It was definitely the most fun he had had during the whole
Christmas break. That thought made him almost laugh. Just a few months ago, he had had the mindset
of never being able to find a Granger's company pleasurable. Now, here he was, right smack dab
in the middle of a Christmas party, full of Granger's, and he was enjoying himself immensely.
The old rivalry he used to take to heart now seemed so very foolish. He looked over at Hermione,
who, he had to admit, looked like the most elegant creature he had ever seen tonight, and gave her
a warm smile. Honestly, who could even think of her as a bad person? Definitely someone who refused
to take the time to even get to know here, that's for sure.

“Would you like to dance, Hermione?” Harry asked, almost shyly, offering her his arm.

Hermione grinned in response and took his arm gracefully as she allowed him to lead her out to
the dance floor. They stood there uneasily for a few beats. Harry reached out to her awkwardly
before withdrawing back.

“Are you okay?” Hermione asked, noticing his edginess.

Harry gave an unconvincing nod. “Yeah, I, uh, just don't think I'm very good at this.
I've...danced with mum…but not quite like this.” He joked.

Hermione laughed. “It's okay. I'm not very good either. I think it would be wise for,
uh, you to put your hands,” she grasped his forearms lightly and slowly guided his hand to her
waist. “Here. And I'll put mine,” she lightly placed her hands on his shoulders, “Right about
here. And now…I dunno, we just sway around.” Hermione laughed nervously. She tried to act more
confident than she felt.

Harry began to lead in the swaying around, and soon enough, the two were too lost in the music
to be nervous.

*She didn't recognize the face at first
But then her eyes flew open wide
She went to hug me and she spilled her purse
And we laughed until we cried.

We took her groceries to the checkout stand
The food was totaled up and bagged
We stood there lost in our embarrassment
As the conversation dragged.*

*We went to have ourselves a drink or two
But couldn't find an open bar
We bought a six-pack at the liquor store
And we drank it in her car.

We drank a toast to innocence
We drank a toast to now
And tried to reach beyond the emptiness
But neither one knew how.*

“This is fun.” Harry said as they slowly circled around. “Dancing isn't as bad as I thought
it would be.”

Hermione chuckled. “Yeah, it seems like it's—*ow*!” She squeaked, as Harry stepped on
her toe.

Harry jumped back and began to quickly apologize. “Merlin, I'm sorry! I didn't
mean—”

Hermione held up a hand to stop him. “No, no, it's fine. Shall we try again?” She asked.

Harry looked hesitant. “Are you sure your toes can handle it?” He joked before pulling her close
again.

They danced in silence as the band continued to play softly as they made their way around a
small portion of the dance floor. Fortunately, no toes were stepped on this time. The song began to
wind down and came to a quiet halt. As the song ended, the two slowly drew apart. Harry glanced up
and noticed a small thing of mistletoe hanging just above them. Hermione followed his gaze and
laughed nervously. “Do we dare break the tradition?” Harry asked jokingly.

Hermione smiled. “I—I think we've had enough…kissing for one day.” She replied, blushing as
she looked down.

**+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++**

*Cause I don't want to come back down from this cloud
it's taken me all this time to find out what I need yeah*

*“Come Down” BUSH*

**+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++**

“This is true,” he agreed. They both looked up at the plant once more. To break the awkwardness,
Hermione suddenly pulled out her camera and held it up to Harry. They moved closer together and
Hermione held out the camera and snapped a quick photo. Jenna suddenly bounced up from behind.

“Hi cousin!” She cried. “I am having such a great time!”

Hermione giggled. “I'm glad you're having a great time.”

“You have some gorgeous cousins. That one…what's his name…the blonde.” She sighed. “He's
quite fit.” Hermione noticed her cousin was slightly tipsy, and couldn't help but chuckle at
her antics as they made their way to a table.

“I think he said he played the drums or something. It's sexy.” Jenna continued.

“What's sexy?” A voice asked that belonged to Hermione's mother.

Jenna looked up. “A bloke who plays the drums, Aunt Sharon. Don't you agree?” She
giggled.

Hermione's mother laughed and rolled her eyes, which Harry recognized as Hermione's
trademark.

“Harry actually plays the guitar. Oh, Mum, this is Harry. Harry, this is my mum.” Hermione spoke
up and introduced the two.

Jenna's eyes widened. “Oh, I love musicians. Play something, Harry Potter. Play
something!”

Harry looked over at her with a raised eyebrow. “I don't think so, Jenna. I don't have
my guitar and—”

Hermione's mother spoke up. “Actually, Harry, it might be fun if you play something. I'm
sure the band would let you join in.”

Harry laughed. “Um, well, I guess I could…er play a song.” How did he say no to Hermione's
mother?

Hermione's mother motioned for Harry to follow her over to the stage, where the band was
taking a break.

Sharon signaled for one of the band members to come over to her.

“I was wondering if my daughter's friend here could play a song while you are on your break.
Just to give everyone a treat?”

The bloke nodded and motioned for them to come up on the stage. Harry took the guitar from one
of the guys and walked to the microphone. Sharon grabbed the microphone and quieted the crowd.
“Hello everyone, Merry Christmas! I just want to thank you all for coming. So far, we've all
been having such a great time. I have a special treat for you. This is a friend of my
daughter's, Harry, and he has agreed to play a song for us all before we begin the gift
exchange. Isn't that great?” There was applause as Sharon put the mic back on the stand for
Harry to sing into.

Harry fixed the strap on the guitar and stepped up to the mic stand. “Hello everyone. My name is
Harry. I'm not going to lie, I don't know many Christmas songs, but this one is a favorite.
It's been done by more artists than I can count, but personally, I fancy the Bruce Springsteen
version. Well, everyone knows this one, so please, sing along!” And with that, he began to play the
guitar. Soon enough, the rest of the band joined in. Harry began to sing, “*You'd better
watch out, you'd better not cry**.* *You'd better not pout, I'm telling
you* *why**. Santa Claus is coming to town.”*

As Harry started singing, Jenna grabbed her cousin's hand and led to out to the dance floor.
Hermione mock-reluctantly followed. The two girls threw their arms in the air and began to
dance.

Hermione caught Harry's eye. “*He's making* *a list, he's checkin' it
twice.* *He's gonna find out* *who's naughty or nice.”* Harry sang as he sent
Hermione a wink*.* “*Santa Claus is coming to town
Santa Claus is coming to town**.”**

* Somewhere in the middle of the song, Hermione heard her cousin start to sing along
loudly before sending out a catcall in the direction of the stage, causing Hermione to laugh and
roll her eyes. she had to admit, he was doing a pretty good job.

Jenna was dancing around and accidentally bumped into a middle-aged lady. “Oops, sorry there,
Miss.” Jenna quickly apologized. “When my cousin's main squeeze Harry Potter gets on the
guitar, everyone gets a little loose!” She giggled before letting out another catcall.

The woman raised an eyebrow, “Harry Potter, you say?” She asked quizzically.

Jenna nodded distractedly before shrugging off the woman and walking over to wrap her arms
around her cousin from behind, not seeing the stranger lift a camera to snap a picture of Harry
during his performance.

*“**He sees you when you're sleeping**. H**e knows if you're awake.*
*He knows if you've been bad or good**, so you'd* *b**etter be good for
goodness sake. Better be good for goodness sake!”* Harry sung loudly, his eyes drifting closed
for a split second. As the song drew to an end, the Granger audience broke out to a soundly
applause. Harry took a dramatic bow, feeding off their energy, before stepping back up to the mic.
“Thank you and I'd like to wish everyone a very Happy Christmas. Thanks for letting me be a
part of all of this, and, if it's okay with her, I'll just turn the mic back over to Mrs.
Granger.” He flashed one more smile before lifting the guitar from his shoulder and placing it in
its stand. He stepped off the stage and easily made his way over to Hermione, who greeted him with
a large grin.

“Way to charm over my family, Harry. I bet they like you more than they like me!” Hermione
joked.

This caused a laugh from Harry. “Well, it is a gift,” he replied, earning a playful slap on the
arm from his friend before allowing him to escort her back to their table.

Soon, Hermione's mother was at the table with two small buckets, one for the gentlemen and
the other for the ladies. Everyone drew from their respective bucket and peered closely at the
paper in their hands that had a small number scribbled on it. Harry asked Hermione what it was
for.

“Well, now we start the gift exchange. Because there are so many people here, it's hard to
buy for everyone. So instead, everyone buys one present per member in their family, keeping it
within a certain price range. It gets a number. Everyone draws a number, and they get the present
with that number on it. For example, you have, “She leaned over to take a look at Harry's
paper, “Number fourteen. You'll get the number fourteen present. Just like I'll get number
thirty-seven. This way, everyone gets a present, and no one breaks the bank.” Hermione
explained.

Harry nodded, and they sat there quietly as the rest of the numbers were passed out and the
exchange began. Hermione's mother called numbers out chronologically, and people went up to the
tree and accepted their present from Hermione's father and another woman who was helping. Harry
walked up to them awkwardly, but felt more relaxed when Hermione's father greeted him with a
smile. “There you go, Harry.” He said, giving Harry a small box wrapped in a Christmas-tree
patterned paper.

Soon, all the presents were passed out, and everyone opened their presents at once.

Harry tore open the green paper and pulled out a box about six inches long. He opened the box to
find a decently sized pocket knife laying in a dark blue felt. “Wow.” He said, pulling it out.

Hermione looked over at him over her own Christmas present, which was a Bath and Body Works
complete shower set.

“Do you like it?” Hermione asked.

Harry nodded. “Yeah, it's brilliant. I don't have one of these.” He flipped the knife
open for further inspection. “What about you?” He asked, not looking up.

Hermione laughed. “It's nice. I guess I'll smell good for awhile.”

Harry smiled, “That's good. I didn't want to tell you, but…it was becoming almost
unbearable.” He laughed.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“So, now what?” Harry asked, slipping his knew present in his pocket.

Hermione shrugged. “Nothing really. Everything winds down from here. Maybe a last little bit of
mingling, and then people start to leave. We'll probably start to clean up soon. Luckily,
there's a fairly long list of people on the clean-up committee.”

Harry gave a snort. “I think only your family would have such committees.”

Hermione gave him a quizzical look before decided not to even comment.

As the party wound down, and goodbye's and Merry Christmas's were exchanged, the
decorations and trash began to get cleaned up. Harry, Hermione, and Jenna all tackled the
decorations while Hermione's other cousins started with the trash.

Harry watched as Hermione and Jenna laughed while taking down ornaments from the tree.
*`Hermione is so great,'* he thought warmly to himself before letting out a small sigh as
he got back to work.

Soon, the large room was cleaned up nicely and all who remained was Hermione's family. After
giving the room more last once-over, which turned three once-overs, they finally piled into
Hermione's father's gray SUV and made their way back to Hermione's house. By the time
they got back, it was almost ten-thirty. Hermione's parents disappeared into the kitchen and
Jenna headed upstairs to get to bed, leaving Harry and Hermione in the living room. Hermione went
upstairs to get Harry's present from her before returning downstairs.

“Thanks for coming over today, it's been great.” Hermione said, handing Harry his
present.

Harry took it and gave her a smile. “Thank you. That's the best Christmas party I've
ever been to.” He told her.

Hermione laughed. “Even better than Hogwarts at Christmas?” She asked.

Harry nodded. “Much better.”

After a few more minutes of small talk, the two exchanged hugs and farewells. Finally, Harry
Disapparated away with a small *`pop.'*

Hermione sat there on the couch, alone for a few minutes, going over the night's events.
This had been one of the best Christmas's she had ever had.

Hermione's mother came in the room. “Harry gone, dear?” She asked.

Hermione nodded. “Yeah, it was getting late.”

Sharon smiled. “He seems like a nice boy. Your father likes him.” She pointed out sitting down
beside her daughter, giving an exhausted sigh.

“That's good. He is pretty great.” Hermione replied, laying back.

The two talked for a few more minutes before heading off to bed. As Hermione got in her bed, she
heard the phone ring and couldn't restrain the smile that made its way onto her face as she
picked up the phone.

“You've barely been home for fifteen minutes.” She greeted him.

“And?” Harry responded.

Hermione giggled. “You're impossible.” She told him, laying back down in her bed.

**+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++**

*The little things, you do to me are
taking me over, i wanna show ya
everything inside of me
like a nervous heart that, is crazy beating
my feet are stuck here, against the pavement
i wanna break free, i wanna make it
closer to your eyes, get your attention
before you pass me by*

*“The Little Things” COLBIE CAILLAT*

**+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++**

With Christmas over, the rest of break seemed to speed by. Hermione's cousin left the day
after Christmas, which saddened Hermione slightly, but at the same time, it was a nice breath of
fresh air. Sometimes, it's good for someone to leave before the nails came out due to being in
each other's company for so long. Hermione had thoroughly enjoyed being with her cousin.

Harry had come over once again, and Hermione gave him a tour of her hometown. He told her about
what had been going on with their mutual friends Ron and Draco in return, as well as his parents.
They had been curious as to his whereabouts on Christmas, but finally gave up when he told them he
was just at a new friend's house. He told her he had the feeling his dad may have known it was
a girl, but decided not to share what the Marauders had walked in on just a few days before.

Harry had also spent more time with Ron and Draco, in an effort to not get too attached to
Hermione. However, he noticed though he did enjoy their company, his mind always drifted back to
his female friend and he unintentionally brought her up in conversation a lot. He tried to ignore
the looks this caused his friends to frequently share.

The return to Hogwarts finally came. Despite their almost constant contact during the holiday,
they were both still secretly excited to see each other. Hermione almost felt bad. She was so
thrilled to return to Hogwarts, and she had barely had the chance to see her parents. Yet, here she
was, ready to leave again. She tried to push these thoughts from her mind, and instead vowed to
write more often. She also felt bad for not being able to see Clarence at all during the holiday,
but Clarence had been on holiday with her family some place warm, and sounded like she was having a
good time.

With all these thoughts behind her, Hermione boarded the Hogwarts Express and searched out
Harry. And Ron and Draco too, of course.

As she passed down the main hallway, peering into each compartment, she accidently bumped into
another student. She quickly apologized before going still upon recognizing his dark blonde hair.
He was blocking her way now. “Er, excuse me.” She said softly, trying to squeeze past him, but he
wasn't having any of it.

“Have a nice holiday?” He asked politely, but Hermione could tell his real intentions were
anything but polite. She hadn't had much of a run-in with him in a long time. He had no power
over her any longer, she knew this. She knew the kind of person she was, and who she wanted to be.
Everything Avery had ever told her had been lies. He had beaten her. Attacked her. Tried to
persuade her. She was sick of it.

“Excuse me.” She repeated, a little more persistently. She noticed his eyes flash dangerously.
Her wand was in her carrying bag, so she could not reach it. One of the compartment doors opened,
but quickly closed, as if whoever it had been did not want in on the trouble occurring in the
corridor of the train.

“I believe I asked you a question.” Avery said menacingly, stepping closer to her, earning a
shiver of fear from Hermione.

Before Hermione could reply, a voice from behind her spoke, “And I believe she asked you to
move.”

Hermione whipped around to see Harry and Draco standing there, peering on lazily. Ron was just a
few steps behind them, holding a Pumpkin Pasty. Once he reached his friends, he looked up to see
what was going on. “Oh,” He uttered softly before dropping his treat and crossing his arms, as if
in a dangerous manner. Hermione fought the laughter that shook in her stomach.

“Aw, if it's not the Dream Team. I don't remember inviting you into this conversation.”
Avery replied, unperturbed.

Harry pushed past his friends to Hermione's side. “And I don't remember Hermione being
asked to be harassed by the likes of you.” He retorted. “Now step down.”

Avery just smirked. “Going to flash your Headboy badge at me, Potter? I'm not harassing
anyone, I'm just asking a fellow student about their holiday. No harm in that.”

“Move, Avery.” Draco said vehemently, coming forth and making his way even in front of Harry and
Hermione. “Move or be prepared to take quite the ass beating. You know how to hit around on girls,
don't you? How well do you do up against men?” He taunted angrily.

“Malfoy. Such big words from a little worm like you. Scared to embrace your family, but not too
scared to embrace a Mudblood—” His words were cut short from Draco punching him in the nose.

Harry lurched forward to hold his friend back, while Ron rushed to stand in front of Hermione.
Pushed from the action, Hermione observed in horror as Avery drew a fist back, and instead of
striking Draco, aimed for Harry, who didn't see it coming. “Stop!” She screeched, unsure of
what to do. “Stop! Stop!” But her cries were unheeded . Soon, her three friends were attacking the
solo Avery. The space was cramped, leaving little space for creating powerful punches.

Hermione desperately dug into her bag and finally pulled her wand. “Expelliarmus!” Hermione
screamed, causing the four boys to jump apart from each other. They all stopped and starred. With
four sets of eyes looking at her, Hermione was at a loss of what to do. Finally, she managed to
find her voice. “Stop.” She demanded, almost angrily. They each had a few bumps and bruises, though
Avery by far had caught the worst of it.

Ron, Draco, and Harry all turned to look back at Avery, who was sneering, his teeth stained red
with blood. “The three of you can all go find a compartment and gang-bang the bitch, for all I
care.” He said nastily, causing a rise from Harry, who had the pocket knife he had gotten for
Christmas out in a flash and inches from Avery.

Avery laughed, though Hermione could detect a sudden small glint of fear. He stepped back and
disappeared behind a door.

Everyone's eyes now focused on Harry, almost in disbelief. He suddenly felt foolish and put
his knife away. Refusing to catch anyone's eye, he led the way to an empty compartment in
silence. The better part of the trip back to Hogwarts was spend in a similar manner.

By the time of the Welcome Back Feast, compliments on each other's blows were being shared
and Hermione was just rolling her eyes at their antics. All the awkwardness had passed. When they
came face to face with Avery again, who was nursing a fat lip, black eye, and a bruise on his
cheek, everyone had to stifle their amusement.

The night ended early, despite classes not starting until the day after next. After a lingering
good night between Harry and Hermione, they each finally made their way up to their separate
dormitories.

**+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++**

*All of the things that I want to say just aren't coming out right
I'm tripping on words
You've got my head spinning
I don't know where to go from here

Cause it's you and me and all of the people with nothing to do
Nothing to prove
And it's you and me and all of the people
And I don't know why, I can't keep my eyes off of you

There's something about you now
I can't quite figure out
Everything she does is beautiful
Everything she does is right*

*“You And Me” Lifehouse*

**+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++**

Harry felt himself rudely awoken the next morning by Draco, who was shaking him violently in an
attempt to wake him up, his eyes wide. “Harry, wake up!” He called, pulling his cover away.

Harry sat up groggily, “Was su madder?” He asked, slurring his words. Once he saw the worry on
Draco's face, he was suddenly wide awake. “Is it Hermione? Did Avery do something?” He asked,
jumping out of bed and pulling on the nearest pair of pants.

Draco shook his head. “No, but your parents are here. Both of them. Here, look at this.” He
said, tossing what Harry recognized as the Daily Prophet towards him. Harry caught it and took a
look at the front page, where he saw his own face. There were two large pictures on the front, both
taken from Hermione's Christmas party. One was of him on stage, singing; while the other was of
him and Hermione, each glancing above them at the mistletoe that hung. Above the pictures where the
headlines: **Harry Potter: To Catch A Granger Under The Mistletoe.**

**Wow, and it's about time this chapter ends! Please Please Please review. I hope you like
it. The next chapter it gonna be big, obviously. I hope everyone sticks around to read it. Once
again, please review. I haven't had the time to write much or even reply to the old reviews
from last chapter, but I will try to get that done tomorrow or maybe to night once I get off work.
Well, thanks for reading and I hope you like it!**

**Until next time,**

***~Archie~***

**

-->



22. Prophets, Parents, Prophecies, and Promises
-----------------------------------------------



**So I am posting again. I want to repeat that. I posted on the 10****th****.
It is now the 17****th** **(4:00 in the morning actually) and I am posting for a
second time this week. Yes, the world must be ending, haha.**

**Okay, so this is a big chapter.** **I actually thought it was going to be short-ish, but
I'm over 30 something pages. Woohoo!** **Lots of important good, boring stuff, so DON'T
SKIM!!!! READ IT ALL!!! Haha. But really, it's good stuff. I promise. I have worked through 2
VERY early mornings after 2 long shifts to get this for you (getting off work late, like 11, and
writing until 4. To get up at 7:30 and go back to work…then start writing again at 10pm…and now
done around 4 again) so yeah, sorry for any errors. Though I DID actually proof read this
one!!!!**

**Anyway, read. Enjoy. Don't forget to review. If I get lots of** **awesome readers
and** **reviews, I will have another chapter out** **in under ten days. Promise.**

**Chapter 21****:** **Prophets,** **Parents, Prophecies, & Promises**

Harry gazed at the Daily Prophet in horror, almost not comprehending. He scanned the article
quickly, barely taking a word in. Finally, he managed to look up at Draco. “They're here…now?”
He asked uncertainly as he slowly sat back down on the edge of his four-poster bed. What was he
supposed to do now? His parents—probably in a fairly angry state—were waiting for him downstairs,
most likely to discuss why their son made the front page of the *Daily Prophet*.

Draco, taking the hint that he needed some time, muttered something about how he'd tell them
their son would be down in a few minutes before exiting through the door, leaving Harry in silence.
After sitting on his bed, motionless for several minutes, Harry mechanically got up and finished
getting himself dressed. His mind was so scrambled with different thoughts, he couldn't make
heads or tails of anything he was thinking. After dawdling as much as he could in getting dressed,
Harry finally walked to the door, took a deep breath, and stepped into the hall. *`Time to face
the music,'* he thought lamely.

Harry stopped short of the door exiting to the Common Room. Was Hermione in there? He prayed she
wasn't. It would be best if they didn't see her. He never had to deal with anything like it
before, and wasn't sure how nasty it might turn out*. `Maybe it won't be so bad,'*
he thought before letting out a snort of amusement*. `Yeah right.'* With a slightly
less-foul mood, Harry opened the door before he lost his nerve. He easily spotted his mother and
father standing against one of the walls of the room, staring out the window. He gave a slight
cough as he approached them. His father turned to see him. Harry gave a small smile. “Hello, Mum.
Dad.” He greeted cheerfully.

Harry's dad returned a tight smile of his own, while Lily continued to stare out the window.
“Good morning, Son.” He father spoke. “Let's go for a walk.” He led the way out of the Portrait
Hole.

Harry looked over towards his mother, who had finally turned to face her son. The second his
emerald eyes made contact with his mother's matching ones, and saw her anger, the only thought
he could process was, *`Oh shit.'*


+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Hermione gave a small yawn as she made her way into the Common Room. She scanned the room
quickly, searching for her raven-haired friend, but he was nowhere in sight. Ron and Draco were in
the corner of the room, talking quietly. She walked over to him. Once they saw her, both quickly
motioned for her to join them. “Hi guys. Harry up yet?” She asked, slightly confused with their
anxious behavior.

Ron nodded. “He's up alright. I take it out haven't seen the *Daily Prophet*?” He
asked, tossing her a copy.

Hermione shook her head before taking a look to see what had them so bothered. “Great Wizards!”
She gasped. She stared blankly at the photographs. Pulling the *Prophet* closer, Hermione
began to read the article, mumbling under her breath. The article had referred to Harry as her
“date” and asked the question of how long these two decedents of rival families had been seeing
each other. Hermione snorted at the ridiculousness of it all. The article went on to talk about how
the families had been rivalries for centuries and finally after getting fed up with the garbage,
Hermione pitched the offensive material away. “That Rita Skeeter sure does know how to write
stories. Honestly, can you believe it?” Hermione asked, amused. “I just don't understand how
anyone could have even gotten those pictures. Surely Skeeter wasn't at the part? And the
pictures aren't even moving, which means they were mostly likely taken by a Muggle. But I
don't understand how anyone in my family would have known who he was, let alone take pictures
and—” Hermione stopped suddenly.


Ron and Draco looked at her quizzically. “And what?” Draco asked, taking a look at the article once
more. “I didn't even realize the photos weren't moving.” He gave the *Prophet* a small
shake, as if that would cause them to move.

Hermione shook her head as an uneasy feeling settled in her stomach. “And there's only one
person in my family who I can see doing this. But to go as far as to writing to the *Daily
Prophet* and sending pictures? I don't even know how she could have known…” Hermione trailed
off, murmuring to herself at the point.

“Who?” Ron asked.

Hermione gave a scoff of resentment. “My aunt. She has a grudge against the Wizarding World,
obviously. Doesn't even know I attend Hogwarts or have anything to do with magic at all.
She's always been suspicious. And when she met Harry, she asked a lot of questions…I
dunno.”

“Well, there's more.” Draco said, looking darkly at Hermione.

“What?” She asked, sitting down on the nearest chair.

“Harry's parents must have seen it somehow. They're here. And pissed. I woke Harry up
about half an hour ago, and as soon as he got down here, the three of them left the Common Room.
Don't be surprised if he doesn't come back in once piece.”


Hermione could feel herself pale. She didn't know precisely what this meant, and she was sure
Draco was exaggerating. But she knew from past conversations and actions concerning Harry's
parents, that nothing good could come of this. “Oh *shit*.” She swore, dropping her head in
her hands.


+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

The trip was made in silence. Harry wondered briefly where his father was leading them, but
thought better not to ask. He only followed, his eyes remaining fixed on the ground. He spotted a
copy of the *Daily Prophet* in his father's hand.

Finally, his father stopped unexpectedly in a deserted corridor. Both his parents rounded on
their son. Deciding to play dumb, Harry just stared at them expectantly, blinking a few times.

“Where were you on Christmas?” His mother asked icily.

This was it. Oddly enough, Harry felt all the fear he had felt leave him. “Home. We had brunch,
remember?” He replied nonchalantly, looking from one parent to the other.

“*After* brunch?”

Harry bobbed his head, as if he hadn't understood the question before. “Oh, a party.” He
quipped truthfully.

“*Who's* party?” His mother pressed on. Harry could tell she was getting angry. And boy
did she have a temper.

Keeping his own temper level, he responded evenly, “A friend's.”

Suddenly, Harry felt his mother's hand collide with the side of his face, creating a loud
*`smack'* that echoed throughout the stone corridor. A cold sting ached on his cheek, but
Harry's gaze didn't falter. He had to fight the urge for his eyes to widen in shock. Very
few times had his parents ever struck him. Taken aback but not trying not to show it, Harry
retorted coldly, “Now that wasn't very nice.”

He saw his mother wind her hand back again in anger, ready to strike again, but with his Seeker
reflexes, he caught her hand before it could make contact with his cheek for a second time. His
hand now had a firm grip on her wrist. He resisted the urge to squeeze harshly. “I said *that
wasn't very nice*. I'd appreciate it if you didn't do it again.” With that, he let
go off her and took a step back.

Neither of his parents made a move. Harry could tell his parents were unsure on how to handle
the situation, and he took advantage. He wasn't going to let them get to him. Not now.

James lifted up the *Prophet*. “Care to explain this? Care to explain how a co-worker had
to show me of my *own* son's whereabouts, because he lied?” He asked with spite.

Harry took the *Daily Prophet* from his father to inspect the picture, though he already
knew what it was.

“Well they say a picture is worth a thousand words. In this case, there are two. How much time
do you have?” Harry replied, knowing he sounded like a smartass. But he didn't care. What made
them think they had the right to come barging in here like this on some high horse? He decided not
to point out the fact he never lied.

“Who is she?” His mother asked, ignoring his comment.

“Obviously you already know, otherwise you wouldn't be here. Let's just cut to the
chase. Where's the problem?” Harry asked. He hated how they wanted to tap dance around the
problem. Why not just come straightforward with it? If they were going to come and confront him, no
need to be indirect.

“Fine.” His father said, crossing his arms. “You know the rules.”

Harry shrugged. “And I know who taught me to break them.” He pointed out, looking at his
father.

Lily shook her head. “You are not to see her anymore.” She commanded.

Harry crossed his arms now as well. “She's my friend.”

“Sounds like more than a friend.” James replied accusingly.

Harry shrugged. “Because all reporters get their facts straight before printing a story. They
always print what's true rather than what will sell.” He said with a slight sneer.

“I don't care what she is to you.” Lily spoke up, stepping towards her son. “You are to have
nothing to do with her.”

Harry didn't back down. “She's one of my best friends. I don't care who her family
is. I care about her, and she's part of my life. You don't even know her.” Harry shot back.
How could they put blame on her so fast?

“I don't care!” Lily screamed. “I don't have to know her. Her family is dangerous!
*You are to have nothing to do with her*!” She repeated as her temper flared.

“And I don't care what you say!” Harry raged back. “She isn't dangerous. She's the
sweetest, most caring person I've ever met. She couldn't hurt anyone!” He continued
furiously.

Before his parents could respond, the sound of someone clearing their throat at the end of the
corridor caught their attention. The headmaster stood there, peering at the three Potters. “Why
don't we take this to a more private place?” He asked politely. “My office, perhaps?”

James stepped in. “Albus, this is a family matter. I don't think—”

Dumbledore nodded in understanding. “I realize this is a family matter, James. But I can't
have parents and students yelling in my corridors. Also…I believe it is time for some truths to be
told. There are bigger things going on at the moment, I'm afraid.” The headmaster explained,
waving his arm out welcomingly to the stairs in the direction of his office. “And Harry, I believe
you should go find Miss Granger and bring her along as well.” Dumbledore said as they passed the
Portrait Hole.

Harry went in and easily found his bushy-haired friend. Hermione, Ron and Draco all rushed to
his side.

“Well?” Hermione asked anxiously.

“Come with me. Dumbledore wants to see us.” Was all Harry could say.

Confused, Hermione followed him through the Portrait Hole wordlessly.


“Harry, I don't underst—” Hermione suddenly fell silent as her eyes landed on the small party
waiting on the other side of the Portrait of the Fat Lady.

“Miss Granger.” Dumbledore greeted cheerfully with a bow of his head.

Hermione just nodded in reply. She refused to meet Harry's parents' eyes, though she
could feel his mother's gaze all but burning a hole in her skull. Silently, the small group
trudged through the Castle towards Dumbledore's office.

Despite the awkwardness of the situation, Hermione couldn't help but grin as she watched the
large gargoyle spring to the side, revealing a secret staircase. Harry had told her about it, of
course, but seeing it was still amusing.

Once everyone filed into to office, Dumbledore conjured enough chairs for everyone to sit.
“Please take a seat.” He ushered before he took his own behind his desk. Once his guests were
seated, he was the first to speak. “Welcome to my office.” He greeted them all once again. “Just to
make sure everyone is properly introduced,” He began. “Miss Granger, this is Lily and James Potter.
Lily and James, this is Hermione Granger.” He said, tipping his head in Hermione's direction.
“And now that we all know each other, shall we address the problem?” He asked, glancing from guest
to guest.

Lily was the first to break the silence. “I believe the only problem we have can easily be
removed from the room.” She retorted steely, casting a furious glance at Hermione. Hermione felt
her face heat up, embarrassed.

“I think we have more important matters, dear Lily. And no one will be removed from my office.
First and foremost, I would like to say that I try to get to know each of my students as much as I
can. For rather obvious reasons, I have taken a personal interest in getting to know Miss Granger
here, and I must say, I have yet to have seen such a bright student in all my years here. As well
as such a selfless one.” Hermione blushed at his compliment.

Harry's parents didn't seem impressed.

Moving on, Dumbledore heaved a heavy sigh. “And as I mentioned previously…” He cast a knowing
glance at Lily and James, “I believe it is time for the truth to come out. Miss Granger, Harry…I
must ask you to wait outside for a few moments, if you will.” Dumbledore said, eyeing his
pupils.

Sharing a confused look, Harry and Hermione got up and exited the room, leaving the adults
alone. He heard the door shut tightly behind him. He let out a steady breath.

Hermione rounded on her friend immediately. “Harry James Potter! What a way to ambush me!” She
spat accusingly to her friend.

Harry just shrugged. “I'm sorry. I wish I could have told you, but they were waiting and
there wasn't much time…I'm sorry.” He replied apologetically.

Hermione just sighed. “Well then? Are you going to tell me what's going on? Why are we all
here? What's this *sudden truth*?” She was firing questions that Harry couldn't even
answer.

He decided to just tell her what he did know. Not sure of how long they had to wait on the steps
outside Dumbledore's office, Harry quickly summed up the morning's events, from Draco
shaking him awake to Dumbledore finding Harry in a shouting match with his parents in the corridor.
In response, Hermione told her own account of the morning, from Draco and Ron frantically showing
her the Daily *Prophet*, to her deduction of who had been behind it all. Once all the
knowledge was shared between the two teens, a silence fell over them as they each took everything
in.

“So Darlene then, huh?” Harry finally asked.

Hermione shrugged. “It makes sense to me. I don't see how it could have been anyone
else.”

Harry nodded in agreement.

“So how pissed were they?”

Harry gave a snort. “Let's just say my mother decided to brand my cheek with her hand print.
Apparently, I'm a smartass.” Harry replied, rolling his eyes.

It was Hermione's turn to chortle. “How long have they known you? And this came to a
surprise?”

Harry pretended to look offended before glancing over at the door with a serious look on his
face. “I wonder what they're talking about.” He implored curiously, pressing his ear up against
the door. He shook his head. Nothing. “I'd like a pair of Fred and George's Extendable Ears
right about now.” He said, fruitlessly checking his pockets.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “He's one of the most powerful wizards alive, Harry. I doubt the
seal on his door can be hoodwinked by a joke product created by a pair of troublemakers. If he
doesn't want you to hear this, then you aren't going to hear it.” She pointed out
wisely.

The two waited for another few minutes before the door swiftly creaked open, inviting them to
rejoin the adults. After sharing one last look, the two teens returned to their seats. Harry could
tell his parents were more irritated than when he had left. Uncertainly, he looked up at the
headmaster for answers to questions he didn't even know.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. “I am going to give a brief overview of my knowledge. You are all
going to have questions, but I must ask you to wait. I will be more thorough once I get everything
out.”

Baffled, Harry and Hermione each unconsciously leaned forward with baited breath.

“First, I must ask for you, Miss Granger, to take Harry's hand.” He instructed. After
Hermione gave him a puzzled look, he gestured his hand towards Harry encouragingly. Harry reached
his hand out to his friend, which Hermione hesitantly took. She noticed Lily purse her lips
wordlessly. She looked up at Harry's face for a reaction. From what she saw, there wasn't
any intense pain.

“How do you feel?” Dumbledore asked Harry, glancing at their joined hands. “How is your
scar?”

Harry gave a small shrug. “No pain.”

The headmaster dipped his head in acknowledgement. “And when is the last time you felt
pain?”

Harry thought for a moment silently. “At Hermione's house. We…” He eyed his parents for a
brief moment. “We were exchanging presents, and we actually shared a hug and maybe even brushed
arms, and there wasn't any pain. Then, suddenly, five minutes later, it was there again. I—we
didn't understand what happened or why it changed.” Harry confessed, careful to choose his
words.

Behind his desk, Dumbledore let out a small breath. “One minute, things were fine, and then the
next, touching was painful?” He confirmed.

Both Harry and Hermione nodded.

“Did anything change?” Dumbledore asked. “Be very thorough. Walk me through the entire scenario.
I need to know exactly what happened and what was said. Everything you can remember.”

Harry looked at Hermione for help, unsure of what all to say, and how far he needed to go back.
Taking the hint, Hermione started. “He had just met me and my cousin at a small yogurt shop. I
believe we greeted each other with a hug, and Harry didn't feel any pain. We walked to my
house, I gave him a tour. We chatted for a few minutes before exchanging Christmas presents. Harry
had wrapped my present in numerous boxes that were covered in tape, so it took several minutes to
unwrap it. It had been a great present, so I thanked him with a hug…”

Harry picked up from here. “And once again, there wasn't anything. I opened my present. I
gave her a hug in thanks, and suddenly realized my scar hadn't hurt at all. Despite the contact
we had had that day, I had no recollection of my scar even twinging. I brought this to her
attention. And then,” He look at Hermione again for help.

Hermione shrugged. “I dunno. Then he grabbed my hand or something to prove it, but it hurt
again, I think.” Harry nodded in agreement.

Dumbledore was silent for a few moments. “Did anything change?” He asked again. “Was anything
said? Had the mood be altered in any way? Do you remember the conversation?” He pried, asking for
every detail they could remember.

The two teens searched their memories, but shook their heads.

Dumbledore got up and went into a cabinet. Harry craned his neck to see what the headmaster was
doing. He caught sight of a small basin, which Dumbledore carried over to the desk and gently sat
it down. Harry couldn't tell if it was filled with a liquid or a gas. He knew what it was,
though he did not know much about it. A pensive. He had seen only a few in his lifetime.

“Miss Granger, I would like for you to concentrate on this memory. Every detail.” Dumbledore
instructed, picking up his wand and walking over to Hermione. Feeling slightly selfish, she closed
her eyes and focused on her and Harry exchanging presents. She felt the tip of the headmaster's
wand at her temple, then felt a small chill on her neck as goose bumps sprung up.

Harry watched as Dumbledore extracted a silvery substance—Hermione's memory—from her temple
and place it in the pensive. The substance swirled around and the image of Hermione's room
became clear. Everyone crowded around the pensive for a better look. Dumbledore gave a flick of his
wand, and the sound of Harry and Hermione's voices filled the room. With a sense of déjà vu,
Harry and Hermione watched the scene play out before them, as if on a small television screen.

*Hermione opened the box and was met with a bunch of tissue paper. She sifted through it and
pulled out the gift. Once she read the cover, she suddenly stopped. “Harry!” She shrieked before
launching herself forward to give him a hug, knocking him backward. She squeezed him tightly,
muttering, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” over and over. Once she untangled herself from him,
she continued to gush, “This is the best Christmas present ever! Thank you so much!”*

*Harry laughed at her reaction.*

*Hermione's eyes fell on her present to him and her happiness vanished.*

*“I get to open mine now!” Harry cried as he moved to pick it up. Hermione quickly snatched it
up first. Harry looked at her quizzically. He made a move to take it back, but Hermione stood and
ran to the other side of the room. “What's wrong?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. “Did you get
me the same thing or something?” He said jokingly.*

*Hermione shook her head, near petrified. “This present isn't yours.” She lied, taking
another step back.*

*Harry laughed. “Don't be silly. It has my name on it. I* *saw* *it, Hermione.”
He told her.*

*Hermione sighed before bluntly confessing. “My present to you sucks. It sucks and I don't
want you to open it. I'll…get you something better or something.” Hermione told him.*

*Harry grinned before reassuring her, “Hermione, I'm sure it doesn't suck. Stop being
silly.”*

*“But it does!” She shot back, her grasp on the box tightening.*

*“No it doesn't!” Harry replied.*

*“Yes it does!” Hermione cried back.*

*“Does not!”*

*Hermione ripped open the present and threw the box at him. “See? It sucks!” She said before
dropping to her knees.*

*“Well,” Harry replied in a snooty voice, “Now that you opened it and took away my favorite
part of opening presents, it* does *suck.”*

*Hermione didn't say anything.*

*Harry laughed and finished tearing off the paper so he could see what it was. An electric
shaver. He smiled. “Aw, thanks, Hermione. It's great, really.” He said with a grin. “Thanks! I
don't have one of these!”*

*Hermione sighed, “You hate it.”*

*“No, I don't hate it. I love it. It's a great gift. I think of the two of us, I
faired off better than you. I've always wanted one of these.” Harry declared.*

*Hermione shook her head. “You're not excited about it at all.”*

*Harry jumped up and ran over to her, tumbling her backwards and mimicked Hermione's
actions from earlier. He leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek. He stopped short, wet his lips up
real nice, and gave her a sloppy kiss. Hermione pushed him away and quickly wiped away his slobber.
“You're disgusting!” she stated with a mock look of revulsion, trying to hide her
surprise.*

*Harry laughed and stood before offering her a hand and helping her up. He grabbed
Hermione's arm.*

*Hermione looked over at Harry and then down to his hand. “Something wrong?” she
asked.*

*Harry grinned. “This doesn't hurt. Touching you…my head hasn't hurt at all today, not
even when we…you know.”*

*Hermione shrugged. “That's odd. Because usually it does. Are you sure there wasn't
even a little pang?” Hermione asked.*

*Harry nodded. Hermione moved over to sit on her bed. “Well, this is all quite odd. I've
looked up everything I could think of, and found nothing. It doesn't make sense. And now, all
of a sudden, it's gone? That makes even less sense.”*

*Harry nodded again. “I dunno, Hermione. Maybe, whatever it is, it's cured.”*

*“I don't think these things just suddenly cure themselves overnight, Harry.” Hermione
pointed out.*

*“True, but you never know. I mean, we've been so busy with things; it seems as if a lot
of things have just gone away. What about your dreams? When was the last time you've had one of
those?”*

*Hermione shrugged. “I dunno. It has been awhile. But I don't think that has anything to
do with it. I mean…well, honestly, those dreams…” Hermione gave a shiver. “I dunno, Harry.”*

*They were both quiet for a moment.*

*Hermione finally broke the silence by clearing her throat. “Erm…well, I suppose it's nice
I don't hurt you anymore?” She offered with a smile.*

*Harry forced a laugh and reached over to squeeze her arm. However, this time, the familiar
pain rushed through his head and he quickly let go. He looked away.*

*Hermione could read it in his reaction. “…Or not…” she finished, glancing down at her feet,
almost ashamed now.*

*Harry sighed. “We were supposed to go to Dumbledore about this, but things have been so
terribly busy lately, with the N.E.W.T.S. and Quidditch and Christmas. We should probably really go
talk to him about this. It isn't normal. I mean, it doesn't happen when Ron or Draco
touches you or me or…I dunno.” Harry really didn't know what to say.*

*Hermione nodded and looked over at her new present. “In the mean time, Harry, Happy Christmas
and thank you so much for the present. You will be getting yours shortly.”*

*Harry laughed as the mood lightened. “Happy Christmas to you too. And really, it isn't
necessary. This,” He picked up the electric shaver, “Is great, really. Thank you.” He meant it. He
did love his new gift.*

*“Absolutely not. I would feel terrible. Please, just let me redeem myself?” Hermione asked
seriously.*

*Harry sighed, “Alright. I will let you attempt to outshine yourself and buy me another
present. But please, don't make it something impractical and stupid like an electric shaver or
something. Come on, seriously! Can you say bloody* lame*?!”*

*Hermione gave him a small shove, careful not to make contact with his skin. With a satisfied
smile, she suggested, “Shall we go to lunch then?”*

The memory slowly began to fade. Dumbledore dipped his wand back into the pensive and gave it a
small stir, causing the memory to resurface and play once more. After watching it a second time,
Harry watched as Dumbledore dipped his wand back into the pensive again. Expecting him to play it
again, he was surprised when he extracted the same silvery substance and raised his wand back to
Hermione's temple, replacing the memory.

Everyone returned to their seats and looked up at the headmaster expectantly. Harry refused to
look at his parents. The scene had been rather private, and now he felt near-exploited. He
didn't have to look at Hermione to know that she felt the same. He could almost feel her
discomfort.

“Well?” James asked, looking at Albus.

The headmaster bowed his head. “After acknowledging the contact no longer caused pain, you
referred to dreams. Tell me about these dreams.” He uttered, straightening his half-mooned
spectacles as his gaze shifted to Hermione.

Hermione felt her face flush once again. Did she have to? Especially with Harry's parents in
the room? Reluctantly, Hermione gave a brief, vague overview of what her dreams contained, leaving
out specifics as far as names and such. As the content of her dreams was shared, the mood of the
room immediately shifted from anger and confusion to apprehensive and nervous, particularly from
Harry's parents. It was almost as if their worst fear had come to life.

Despite knowing this wasn't helping matters as far as making a good impression on
Harry's parents, Hermione continued anyhow. Dumbledore listened attentively, though Hermione
could tell he wanted more from her. But she wasn't going to give it up. Harry shot her an
anxious look, encouraging her to keep certain parts of her dreams private. Finally, the headmaster
gave a look of understanding as he realized Harry's parents' presence was a factor in her
going any further.

Dumbledore dipped his hand into his robes and pulled out a pocket watch. “It's near lunch
time.” He remarked, looking back up to his guests. “Lily, James,” he addressed, “I believe you have
something you would like to discuss with Harry. I would like to continue this,” He gestured the
small meeting they were having, “After lunch, if possible. James, Lily, Harry, you may all be
excused to the Great Hall for lunch and if you could, maybe be back up here in an hour or so. And
Miss Granger, if you could join me for lunch?” He asked.

Hermione should have seen that coming. “Of course, Professor.” She replied, sitting back in her
seat as she watched all the Potters leave the room. Now alone with the headmaster, Hermione felt
her stress and anxiety level plummet.

“I'm not quite sure what you like, Miss Granger, so,” Dumbledore gave a flick of his wand
and all the instruments and items on his desk levitated straight up, leaving it clean. Another
flick, and food and two sets of plates appeared. Hermione gave a small grin, impressed. “Well, no
need to be shy. Dig in!” Dumbledore encouraged.

Hermione grabbed a sandwich before spooning a few sides onto her plate. Soon, the two of them
began their meal.

“So tell me, Miss Granger, is there…well anything else you would like to tell me?” He asked with
a small chuckle.

Hermione nodded. “About my dreams…there's more. I didn't…with Harry's parents.”

Dumbledore inclined his head in understanding. “Of course. However, this is very important,
Hermione. I need to know everything. And by the sound of it,” He glanced upward towards his
pensive, “I may need to see it as well. But let's wait until after we eat.”


+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Harry and his parents made a silent trip to the Great Hall. He was expected to be bombarded with
questions, but was relieved there were none. He was anxious to find out what they had to say to
him, as far as needing to tell him something. As they sat down at the end of the Gryffindor table,
Harry massaged his temples. This whole thing was giving him such a headache. Everything was
happening so fast, yet nothing was really happening at all. It seemed as if everything was suddenly
being questioned and things that never held much importance now needed to be dissected for every
detail. And that was just a memory. What else was in store for them?

Not feeling very hungry, he dished a small amount of food on his plate and picked at it for
fifteen minutes as his parents ate. Still, no one said anything. He wished they would hurry up.

After what felt like forever, the three Potters had eaten their fill and now had nothing to do
but address the situation. “So?” Harry started, ready to get whatever conversation they had in mind
out of the way.

Harry's parents shared a look, and Lily leaned forward and pushed Harry's bang back in a
motherly gesture. Harry stiffened at her touch as thoughts of the corridor flooded his mind. His
parents stood and gestured for him to follow.

The three of them made their way into an empty classroom and sat down on the deserted desks.

James began. “This isn't going well at all. I don't think we handled the situation in
the best of ways. We came here, assuming and angry. However, perhaps you will now understand why.
Your scar. We were never in a car accident when you were younger. When you were a child, it was
dark times. Voldemort had risen to power, destroying anything and everything he could. He had an
army. Your mother and I were obviously with the Order of the Phoenix, an organization that fought
against Voldemort. We were prime targets, particularly because of you.”

“But why?” Harry asked, confused.

“There had been a prophecy foretold that there was only one person who could stop Voldemort. I
don't know the prophecy exactly; Albus will be able to fill that in. In short, a child who was
born at the end of July to parents who had defied Voldemort on three separate occasions, and the
child would eventually defeat the Dark Lord. There were two babies during this time. You and
another. He had to mark his equal, and he chose you. This put us in even a greater danger. Albus
used a charm—a Fidelius Charm—to keep us safe. We used Peter Pettigrew as our Secret Keeper, which
meant no one could find us unless he told them of our location. We thought he was one of us. We
knew someone was giving Voldemort information, but we didn't know who it was. We wanted to use
Sirius, but he insisted that Voldemort would never go for Peter. Peter was too weak.

“As it turns out, Peter was Voldemort's spy. He told Voldemort of our whereabouts. On the
night Voldemort came to attack, your mother and I weren't there. We had gone out for the night.
You were left with friends of ours. Voldemort came. The couple we had left you with—Eustace and
Clarence—tried their best against the attack. They loved you very much. Once we got home, Aurors
and wizards were everywhere in our house. Eustace had been killed by Voldemort. However,” James
paused for a second, getting slightly choked up, “He had given his life, trying to save yours. He
was like a grandfather to you. Apparently, Voldemort had come in, and went after you. Eustace's
love for you saved your life. After he was killed, Voldemort turned his wand on you. His spell
backfired, and he Avada Kedarva'd himself. Clarence said he was ripped from his body. The house
had been blown to smithereens. The scar that is on your forehead was the only injury you had
sustained, marking you.” He finished, looking at his son.

Harry's head was spinning. And he thought things were confusing earlier? “Let me get this
straight. Voldemort tried to kill me because there had been a prophecy made saying I would defeat
him. He came and attacked the house, killed one of my caretakers for the night, and…killed
himself?” Harry asked uncertainly.

Lily gave a shrug. “No one knows what really happened to him. Did he die that night? No one
knows. Albus doesn't think so. He hasn't been in the Wizarding World for over sixteen
years. It was said that you were the only one who could destroy him…but no one knows. A very select
group of people know about the prophecy. Albus, your father and I, the Seer, Sirius and Lupin of
course, Clarence and Eustace knew…” she trailed off.

Harry's eyes widened suddenly. Clarence? “What ever happened to Clarence?” Harry asked
slowly.

“She was devastated. Kept to herself. She owns a Wizarding Library now. Haven't heard from
her in years.” Lily replied.

Harry nodded. That was Hermione's Clarence. He didn't have the extra brain power to sort
that one out right now. “Why did the spell backfire?” He asked.

“The ultimate sacrifice of giving your life for another out of pure love is a very, very old
branch of magic that Voldemort—who know nothing of love—never accounted for. Eustace's love for
you saved your life.” James answered softly.

Wow. Harry didn't know what to say.

Lily took a step forward. “Can you see it now, Harry? Voldemort is part of her family. And he
tried…tried to kill you. He tried to take my baby away from me.” She began to sob, and Harry took
her in his arms. He hugged his mother. This must not be easy for her. “That's why you can't
have anything to do with her, Harry. You know about her dreams and her touch causes you pain
already. She is bad news.”

Harry released his mother and drew away from her. “No, you don't get it. I don't care.
That's not her. Her dreams…it's not, Mum. She doesn't even have them anymore. She has
no connection to Voldemort, and is nothing like how he was.” Harry responded defensively, feeling
himself becoming heated over the subject.

James reached out to rest his hand on Lily's arm in a calming gesture, which half-worked.
Instead of ripping Harry, she just let out a small puff of air and walked over to the window in the
room, wordlessly. James gave Harry a warning look, which he heeded and allowed his own gaze to
quietly fall to the floor. He could see they weren't ever going to understand. And really, they
didn't need to.


+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

Once the food was cleared away, Dumbledore asked Hermione to go into more detail with the dreams
she had been having. Upon her silence, he then asked her if it would perhaps be easier to see them.
Feeling ashamed, Hermione nodded and allowed him to extract more of her thoughts.

“This time,” Dumbledore said, standing up and gesturing for Hermione to do the same, “We are
going to take a closer look.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked, stepping closer to the pensive. The headmaster held out his
hand, which she hesitantly took. Before she knew it, she felt herself being tugged into the basin.
As her surrounding spun around her, Hermione felt as if she had been here before. Of course she
had. It was one of her dreams. She looked up to see the headmaster standing beside her.

“Where are we, Hermione?” Dumbledore asked calmly, looking around.

Hermione gave a shrug. She hadn't had this dream in a long time. She spotted two hooded
figures just a few yards away. Immediately she made to move behind a tree. “Quick, hide!” She
whispered.

Dumbledore gave a soft laugh. “No, it's okay. We're just visiting the memory. No one can
see us. On the contrary, let's move closer.”

As they stepped closer to the figures, Hermione recognized herself and Avery immediately.

“Mr. Avery?” Dumbledore questioned, somewhat surprised.

Hermione nodded. “He thinks I can do dark things and wants me to pick up where Voldemort left
off.” She managed, unsure if the headmaster would believe her about one of the fellow students.

Dumbledore bowed his head with grave acknowledgement. “It's a shame some young students wish
to follow in their parents footsteps so.”

Suddenly, out of thin air, several people Apparated into a circle, surrounding the two hooded
figures and the visitors. Avery bowed his head to the hooded Hermione in respect and joined the
surrounding circle.

“Welcome, my loyal subjects.” The hooded Hermione welcomed, lowering her hood. “I wish to thank
you for joining me on such short notice.” Hermione gave a cold laugh. Watching it from the outside,
Hermione felt chills run down her spine. She appeared so heartless. “Tomorrow will be sunny.
Children will laugh and play in parks. Couples will kiss and hold hands on the streets. Parents
will appreciate the nice weather. The older folks may even go out for a nice stroll around the
block. Tomorrow…will be a good day.” She said to her masked followers, who looked at each other, as
if confused.

The sly sneer found its way on their master's face. “Yes, tomorrow will be a good
day…tonight, however,” she paused for dramatic effect. “Tonight, this town—” she pointed to a small
town at the bottom of the hill they were gathered on, “Will burn. And tomorrow,” She laughed
cruelly, “Will not have enough sunshine to put a smile even on a blind man's face.”

Those crowded around her started to laugh and jeer in excitement. As if to signal the war of the
night was to begin, Hermione lifted her wand, and with a flick of her wrist, a ball of fire
exploded from the end of her wand, hurling towards the small group of houses. Evil laughter filled
the air as everyone rushed to the small town, wands ready.

Hermione looked back up at Dumbledore, who appeared quite calm. Before she could say anything,
she felt her surroundings abruptly change. She was still outside, but in another place. A field,
just outside a small house in the country. But this time, there were only two hooded figures with
no masks. Her and Lucious. Two others were there as well. The moon was full, and a man began to
transforminto a werewolf. Hermione watched herself kill the man-now-werewolf with ease. Then she
began to battle the woman, Nymphadora. Lucious intervened and took the woman's life. More evil
mirth. She watched herself suddenly shout, *“Morsmorde*” and shoot a spell in the air. Her
mark. A red neon skull with a green serpent tongue hovered over the house of Remus and Nymphadora.
The world started to change again.

This time, she found herself and Dumbledore inside a foyer of some kind. She felt her stomach
twist as she heard a knock on the door. A man with dark hair and glasses came to the door. James
Potter reached out for the door, but before he could open it, it blew open and off its hinges.
Hermione watched as she and Avery walked inside the house. “I hope you don't mind,” the dream
Hermione said with her lip curling, “But we just let ourselves in.”

She and Avery made their way into the sitting room, where Lily sat with a book. James ran to his
wife. Hermione couldn't watch this dream again. Her stomach twisted even more painfully.
Knowing who they were. She noticed a small bassinet in the corner. Something she had never noticed
before. Tears came to her eyes as she watched herself taunt the Potters, cruel and heartlessly.
James tried to beg for his wife's life to be spared. Hermione's head started to spin
wildly. She was going to kill them. She tried to turn away, so she didn't have to watch, but
found it hard to do so. Almost sickenly mesmerized by her dream-self, Hermione—disgusted—watched
her grotesque actions. From the torturing to the taunting to finally a flash of green light.
Dumbledore grabbing her arm caused her to jump. She had almost forgotten he was there. She felt
that familiar pull, and swiftly found herself back in Dumbledore's office, out of her
nightmares.


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*Guess I just got lost
Bein' someone else
I tried to kill the pain
Nothin' ever helped
I left myself behind
Somewhere along the way
Hopin' to come back around
To find myself someday

Lately I'm so tired of waiting for you
To say that it's ok, but tell me
Please, would you one time
Just let me be myself
So I can shine with my own light
Let me be myself
Would you let me be myself

I'll never find my heart
Behind someone else
I'll never see the light of day
Living in this cell
It's time to make my way
Into the world I knew
Take back all of these times
That I gave in to you*

*“Let Me Be Myself” THREE DOORS DOWN*


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She couldn't meet his eyes. Hermione knew he judged her now. He had seen her do disgusting
things. Tears she didn't know she had were carelessly trailing down her face. How long had she
been crying? She rushed to the door and tried to open it, but found it locked. “Open the door!” She
ordered, refusing to turn around.

“Miss Granger,” Dumbledore whispered softly.

“Open the door.” She demanded once again, pulling the handle. She grabbed her wand, but found
her magic useless against his.

“Hermione.” Dumbledore repeated, using her first name this time with a little more urgency. “I
know you must feel ashamed—”

Hermione whirled around, tears blinding her by now. “You don't know how I feel! You
don't know what it's like to watch yourself kill people like that. Even if it's just in
my dreams! You don't know!” She screamed.

“Hermi—”

“NO! You don't know! You don't know what it's like. To be terrified to fall asleep,
afraid of what you might see. Scared shitless that you just might actually enjoy it. You don't
know how it is to feel torn between two different worlds, even when you know right from wrong.
Don't tell me you know how I must feel, when you don't know a damn thing.” Hermione said,
starting with a shout and ending in a quivering, ashamed whisper.

Dumbledore looked surprised at her outburst, Hermione could tell. She was too. But no, he
didn't know. He couldn't. He couldn't know how it felt to see yourself so full of
devilry and wickedness, be disgusted and at the same time, shamefully yearn for such power. No, he
didn't know.

A heavy silence filled the room, which Dumbledore finally broke. He waved his wand, and Hermione
heard the lock on the door click, signaling it was now free to open. She turned the handle
daringly, her eyes glaring at the headmaster. “Hermione, I will not try to pretend I know exactly
how you are feeling, because in all honestly, I do not know. I am a very powerful wizard, always
have been. I have also always been for the Light. I have spent most of my life against the Dark
side. So no, I don't know how it feels to be conflicted between the two worlds. But I am
willing to understand, Miss Granger. Teach me. Tell me how it feels, so I can appreciate your
bravery and courage to resist even further. Because you are a good person. I know this much. As
does Harry. He cares a great deal for you.

“We are living in trying times, even if no one knows it. There is a war raging that has yet to
surface. It may not for many years to come. And you, Miss Granger, are a main component of the War,
I am sure of it. You will either be a Savior to the Wizarding World and Muggle World, or you will
cause both worlds' damnation. You know your feelings. You know your desires more than anyone.
What do you want? To be the Blessing…or the Curse?” He asked softly.

Confusion began to fog Hermione's brain. His words didn't make sense. What was coming?
Damnation? How was she so important?

Taking advantage of Hermione's deer-in-headlights state, Dumbledore continued evenly, “But
before you make that choice, you can make an easier one. You can leave and try to forget about
everything…or you can stay, and get answers.” He proposed, sitting back in his chair.

After several long minutes of silence and staring, Hermione finally let go of the door. “I'm
not a blessing, nor am I a curse. A wise man once told me to be absolutely sure about who I am and
what I stand for, and never to compromise. To go the distance.” Hermione said, causing a small
smile to find its way on the headmaster's lips. “I'm not entirely sure about who I am. Nor
do I know everything I stand for. But I've had thoughts and feelings that felt more real than
anything I had ever felt before since I've been here at Hogwarts. Not all of them were morally
good. It's hard to be teased your whole life, to never fit in with anyone. Scorn from every
direction is difficult to take. So when someone comes in with a solution, with revenge, it can
sound as sweet as iced tea on the sunniest of days. And it's caused me to compromise even my
strongest beliefs. I've reconsidered morals and rules I've never even had to think twice
ago.” Hermione spoke softly, captivating Dumbledore's attention. After a small pause, she
continued, “However, I've learned. And I do know a few things about myself. I know I'm a
good person. I know I've made mistakes. I know there are people I love and care about more than
anything. I know I'm smart. I know about wise choices, and how to make them.

“I know a few of my morals that will never change. I will never find it acceptable to go into a
house and take the lives of innocent people I don't know, or even of those who I do. I know I
could never even think to rid the world of a child. And I would never compromise myself enough to
the point where it would put my personal beliefs in jeopardy, particularly when things become as
serious as life and death.

“And finally, I can't promise I'll go the distance. I used to think I would always go
the extra mile, always fly by the finish line, only to keep going because it wasn't good
enough. It never was good enough for anyone. I'm not so sure anymore. I don't know how far
I'll go. But I do know I will go as far as I can, with everything I do. Because that's one
of those things I know about myself. It's one of those things I stand for. Something I'll
never compromise.” Hermione finished her voice low, but stern and full of confidence.

Dumbledore was quiet for a moment. “Then, Miss Granger,” He replied with a small smile, “You are
the Blessing.”

Hermione shrugged. “Call it what you want.”

“I know this is hard for you, Miss Granger, but I need you to relive your nightmares once more.
I need you to explain them to me. The people in them. How did you find out about them?” He asked
seriously.

Feeling more comfortable with the situation, Hermione told him the truth. “I don't know. I
never knew they existed. I've never seen them in my life. I never knew they were real. I saw a
photo album of Harry's once, and recognized his parents. I was terrified. Then I saw Remus. How
could I see people I never knew existed in my dreams? I had their names right, their faces…I even
knew of Remus being a werewolf. But how?” Hermione questioned curiously. She could tell the mood
suddenly changed in the room. This surprised the headmaster, she could tell.

“I-I don't know. You've never seen them before? No knowledge whatsoever? And what about
the Dark Mark? You knew the spell to conjure it. Not many know that spell. How much research have
you done on Voldemort? Did you see pictures?” He asked, leaning forward. Hermione could tell he was
becoming more urgent for his answers.

Hermione shook her head. “The dreams started way before I began any deep research. I don't
know how I knew the spell. I've never even read about it. Eventually, once Harry and I became
closer, I began taking Dreamless Sleep potions to stop them. Then after awhile, they stopped on
their own.” Hermione told him truthfully.

The headmaster nodded in understanding. “You had no recollection of anything in your dreams
before having them, but you were to dream with significant detail and accuracy, down to the Death
Eaters such as Lucious Malfoy.” He muttered, and Hermione could tell he was having a hard time
believing so.

“Lucious *Malfoy*? Is that…Draco's father?” Hermione asked, never making the connection
before. Looking back at it now, she couldn't see how she had missed it. They looked so similar.
Though, Harry looked very much like his father as well, and she never made that connection
either.

“You've never heard of him, either. Yes, it is.” Dumbledore confirmed, wiping his brow. “I
can only think of one explanation. Your dreams have been controlled. Someone has had you bewitched.
Perhaps Voldemort himself.” He continued, though Hermione almost felt as if he was talking to
himself more than anyone else.

“And the dreams have stopped?” He asked.

Hermione nodded.

“So the connection must have been broken.” He went on, standing now and starting to pace.

“What does this mean, Headmaster?” Hermione asked, fear creeping into her mind. She had been
bewitched?

Dumbledore stopped suddenly and sat back down. “I don't know. We must keep a closer eye on
this. You must learn to block your mind. You will start training Occlumency immediately. It is a
powerful branch of magic, but necessary.”

Hermione looked at her headmaster, befuddled by the sudden sense of urgency. “But why now,
Professor? Why all this sudden rush?” She asked.

“Because I didn't know things had progressed this far. I told you, Miss Granger, a war is
brewing. Voldemort is still out there. I don't know w hen it will happen, could be in a year,
it could be in ten. But you must be prepared. You must protect yourself. Even in better times, you
never want to let your guard down and let another wizard into you r mind.”

That made sense. “I see what you mean, Professor. But this war you keep talking about…how do you
know it's me?”

Dumbledore sighed. “That is for a different conversation. Harry too. Others will play a role in
it as well, but it would be unwise to reveal the reasons behind these truths. The revelation could
be a catalyst for a forced situation, which will cause failure.” He could almost see Hermione's
mind trying to make all these connections. “Right now, you must not worry about it. There are other
things to think about. Protect yourself. Study for your N.E.W.T.S. Rejoice in choosing what's
right, rather than what may seem easier. Keep me informed. Occlumency will help you guard your
mind. Professor Snape is highly skilled in Occlumency. He will help you. For now, that will be
enough.” He finished.

“So what now then?” Hermione asked, looking at Dumbledore expectantly.

“Now, we wait.” He quipped. “Lemon drop?” He asked, pulling out a jar of yellow candies from a
nearby drawer. Hermione thought it was a rather absurd thing to ask in a situation like this.
However, she took him up on his offer, and popped one of the candies in her mouth. Her face
contorted into a sour expression, and she immediately spit it out.

Dumbledore laughed. “Yes, they're quite strong.” He warned before slipping two in his
mouth.

They waited in silence for a few minutes before there was a soft knock on the door. Dumbledore
waved his hand, and the door swung open, revealing the Potters.

“Please, come in.” Dumbledore ushered, gesturing towards the chairs. “I trust things went well?”
He asked.

James looked from his wife to his son, neither who were in the best of moods. “He knows.”

Dumbledore nodded in approval. “Miss Granger and I had a nice lunch and chat. I put my full
faith in her being an asset to the Order. It is necessary for the past to become just water under
the bridge,” Dumbledore said, eyeing Lily in particular. “Time may be of the essence, or perhaps
not. The knowledge of not knowing is very dangerous. Harry, do you have any questions?” Dumbledore,
addressing the befuddled teen.

Harry looked up to see all eyes on him. Questions? There were so many, he didn't even know
where to begin. He sighed. “The prophecy. Can you elaborate?” He asked uncertainly.

“No beating it around the bush with you, Mr. Potter.” Dumbledore replied with a slight laugh.
Many years ago, Sybill Trelawney made a prophecy concerning Voldemort and his reign of power. The
prophecy reads as follows:

*"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...Born to those who have
thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal,
but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not...and either must die at the hand of the other for
neither can live while the other survives...."*

The mood of the room suddenly shifted. Dumbledore looked almost grave after having to tell Harry
of his fate.

Did Harry just hear what he thought he had just heard? “I'm sorry, Professor. It almost
sounded like you just said neither can live while the other survives…and one must die at the hand
of the other?”

Dumbledore dipped his head in confirmation.

“So…are you saying that I have to kill Voldemort, or Voldemort must kill me…?” He asked
meekly.

Once again, Dumbledore bowed his head. “I am sorry. But you are very important to this war. You
have the `*Power the Lord knows not.*'”

“What is that power? I don't understand. I'm just Harry, nothing more, nothing less. I
don't have any more power than anyone else.” Harry explained.

Dumbledore held up a hand to halt Harry's explanations. “Harry…I wish I had the answers you
seek, but I don't. You have the Power. I don't know what it is. It is something you must
find out for yourself. Voldemort has marked you as his Equal.” He responded unhelpfully, his eyes
fluttering up to Harry's forehead.

Harry's mother reached out and took her son's hand. Tears had formed at the corners of
her eyes. She had known this for seventeen years, but that still didn't help matters.

Not feeling any better about the situation, Harry just nodded. Nothing was making sense right
now. How did this even happen? If someone would have told him all this when he had woken up this
morning, he would have laughed in their face at the absurdity. Instead, he's facing the
absurdity now, and there was nothing to laugh about. Did anyone honestly expect him to become a
murderer?

Hermione wasn't taking the news any better. She had gasped when Dumbledore revealed the
nature of this prophecy Harry had asked about. That must have been the truth his parents had to
tell him during lunch. Hermione didn't miss Dumbledore's eyes locking on Harry's
forehead where his lightening bolt scar was. She cleared her throat. “How did he mark him as his
equal?” She inquired, looking from Dumbledore to Harry.

However, it was Lily who retorted with an upset tone, “He tried to kill him!” Her voice was
angry, and Hermione could tell letting bygones be bygones was the last thing on her mind. Hermione
suddenly regretted asking. “I'm sorry to hear that.” She replied forcefully, though not for the
first (or even the second time) that day, she felt as if a wrench had been thrown into the works,
adding to chaos. Voldemort, one of the more powerful Dark Lords—her ancestor—had tried to kill
Harry? She would ask Harry more about it later.

Dumbledore addressed the two young adults. “I realize this is a lot to take it. You don't
have to understand everything today before you leave my office. I will here to help you, to guide
you. Harry, I will be here to help you cope with your fate, and prepare for an inevitable battle.
And Hermione, Occlumency isn't an easy skill to master. But is essential that you do so, and I
have no doubt that you will soon perform it well. I've witnessed your powers. And Lily and
James. I know this is very hard for you right now, but you know this is necessary. Voldemort will
come back; it's only a matter of time. I hadn't realized just how far things had gotten,
for which I apologize. Both Harry and Hermione will have very important roles in the War. We must
let Fate run its course. What will come, will come. What has happened, has happened. And we are
going to have to deal with it the best we can.” Dumbledore stated gravely, his light blue
eyes—without that familiar twinkle—pierced the pools of each of his guests meaningfully. “And I
think that will be all for today. I do not want to put a fear in any of you, so please, continue as
you had in the past. But now you have the knowledge that there is something to start preparing for.
Perhaps it's time for certain amends to be made. The Order must be working in full harmony if
we want to even stand a chance.”


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*I'd like to believe we could reconcile the past
Resurrect those bridges with an ancient glance
But my old stone face can't seem to break her down
She remembers bridges and burns them to the ground*

*“Cumbersome” SEVEN MARY THREE*


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Everyone nodded in agreement.

“One last thing. Miss Granger, could you please take Mr. Potter's hand once more?” Hermione
did as she was told, and by Harry's eyes snapping shut, Hermione could tell what effect she had
on him this time. She quickly broke the contact.

Dumbledore nodded. “Both of you have a connection with Voldemort, Hermione by blood, and Harry
by your scar. It seems that your scar hurts when Hermione had Dark feelings or urges, either
consciously or subconsciously. You say you haven't felt it in awhile. While looking at
Hermione's memory, once her dreams had been brought up, a Dark energy—even if it was just
memories—had surfaced. Before the revelations of today, Hermione's mind was clear and there was
no pain. Now, after giving accounts and visiting her dreams again, the energy had come back. I
believe I know a solution to this problem. I will get back to you once I know a little more. In the
mean time, you two are dismissed.” Dumbledore finished, standing and opening the door with a wave
of his arm.

Both Harry and Hermione got up and left the room quietly. They almost ran down the stone steps
and out into the Entrance Hall. They stopped and looked at each other knowingly. “I think we have a
lot to share.” Harry said, though his brain felt as if it was already in overload.

Hermione laughed and nodded in agreement.


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*So you found out today your life's not the same
Not quite as perfect as it was yesterday but
When you were just getting in the groove
Now you're faced with something new
And I know it hurts and I know you feel torn
But you never gave up this easily before
So why do you choose today to give it all away

Well it's not so bad y'all
Together we all fall
Just as long we get up we'll stand tall
We shouldn't waste another day
Thinking 'bout the things that we forgot to say*

*“No Giving Up” CROSSFADE*


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A little over half an hour later, the two of them could be found bundled up, sitting at the base
of a tree in the snow near the Lake after already having made two laps around the frozen body of
water. Both shared everything they had heard and said. Harry told Hermione about how his parents
had told him about his past, and how he had had a connection with Clarence. Hermione was shocked at
the news. Hermione told him how she and Dumbledore had relived her dreams and how he had deduced
she must have been bewitched, which was why she would be taking Occlumency lessons. She even told
him about her outburst.

Once everything was said, Harry pulled Hermione close to him by her arms and stared deeply into
her brown eyes. He had a very serious question to ask. He felt bad for asking, but knew it was
necessary. “Hermione, after today and all the headache they've given us, I need to know. I
trust you, Hermione, I really do. I know you're a good person. I know what Avery has said to
you. I know about your dreams. I know the conflicts and internal battles you've had to face. I
understand completely. But I need to know this is what you want, Hermione. I know we can't see
it now, but it sounds like things are getting serious. Things will be serious. I'm still
confused. I still don't understand the who's and what's and why's, but I know
something big is coming. I need to know this is your side, and this will remain your side. Promise
me this is where your loyalty will always lie, and I'll believe you, Hermione.” Harry told her
slowly, not wanting to make it sound as if he was accusing her.

Hermione's first reaction was to get defensive, but that passed quickly. She batted away her
instinct to be offended. She looked down at the snow. She could understand where he was coming
from. Was this always going to be her side? Her thoughts drifted back to the speech she had made to
Dumbledore. She eased off her glove, motioning for Harry to follow suit. Clearing her mind,
Hermione tried to erase any Dark energy she may be harboring. Instead, she focused on all what she
thought was good. Her parents. Harry. Dumbledore. How Christmas vacation had gone. Harry saving her
with a kiss. Their moment under the mistletoe. Harry playing on stage. His desperate phone calls.
She giggled internally. Finally, she reached out and took Harry's hand. She easily laced her
fingers with his so their palms met. She looked up at his deep, green eyes. Such beautiful eyes.
She smiled. She saw no pain there. “I promise.” She whispered softly, squeezing his hand to
reinforce her decision.

Harry returned her smile with a soft one of his own, as well as her affectionate squeeze. “I
knew you would.”

“Then why did you ask?” Hermione fired back, not angrily, just as a simple question.

Harry looked down at their interlocked fingers. “Because I needed this.”

Hermione squeezed his fingers again, this time with a more playful force.

Harry dramatically wrenched his hand from hers and dropped to his knees. “Now you are causing me
pain!” He whined, holding his `*pained'* hand in his gloved one.

Hermione giggled and pushed him over in the snow. In response, he grabbed her pulled her down,
forcing her to drop to her knees as well. “You are such a goof.”

Harry pulled her into a hug. “So? You're an evil little girl. We're even.”

Hermione laughed. She pulled out her wand suddenly and aimed it at Harry's shoes,
transfiguring them into ice skates. She then did the same to hers. She stood and offered him her
hand, which Harry eyed warily before taking it. Before they could step out onto the Lake, half of
which had been bewitched to remain frozen for ice skating while the other half resisted any freeze
(with an invisible barrier between the two areas so students couldn't go into the unfrozen
portion), Harry pulled her back.

Hermione looked at him quizzically.

“I'll go ice skating with you…if you let me take you flying with me.” He proposed
compromise, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Hermione laughed. “We both know that isn't going to happen, Harry Potter.”

Harry shrugged. “Then I'll watch you from our tree.”

“You know I'm terrified of heights. That's not fair.” Hermione shot back.


“And I'm terrified of ice.” Harry argued without missing a beat.

“Liar”

“So?”

Hermione bit her lip. “You know, I'm not suppose to compromise. Headmaster's orders.”
Hermione retorted.

“And I'm not suppose to go—what was your world—ah, yes, *gallivanting* around with a
Granger. Mother's orders.” Harry countered.

“ Touché.” Hermione responded. She considered his ultimatum before finally giving in. “Just a
small ride, only ten feet from the ground. Over a safety net.” She agreed.

“Twenty feet.”

“Ten. You're lucky. I was going to say five.”

“Five?! You'll still feel the Earth under your feet!” Harry exaggerated earnestly.

Hermione hopped onto the ice and started skating off, hollering behind her, “Which is exactly
how I like it!”

Harry laughed before jumping on the ice himself, only to fall flat on his face. Hermione came to
his rescue and helped him up. “Honestly, Harry, how will you ever vanquish a Dark Lord when you
can't even stand on your own two feet?” She teased.

Harry laughed. “Just for that remark, I'm taking you to the tops of the trees!” He said,
grabbing onto her for stability.

Hermione scoffed. “Keep dreaming. He won't have to kill you. I'll do that myself. Broom
accident. I'd say it's believable. Wonky-faint-things shouldn't be attempted with a
passenger.” Hermione said, sticking out her tongue.

“Wronski Feint. Honestly, Hermione, haven't you ever opened a book?!” He teased, earning an
`accidental' trip from Hermione, ending with him landing on him bum on the ice once more.

While neither were very strong skaters, the two held onto each other to keep their balance. Once
they got the hang of it, the two made a few slow laps around the iced lake in a comfortable
silence, both thinking it was nice that they could joke about what the future held now, but knew
there would be a time when joking about it was going to be the last thing on their minds.


+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

*It's an itch we know we are gonna scratch
Gonna take a while for this egg to hatch
But wouldn't it be beautiful

Here we go, we're at the beginning
We haven't fucked yet, but my heads spinning

Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you
Why can't I speak whenever I talk about you
It's inevitable, it's a fact that we're gonna get down to it
So tell me
Why can't I breathe whenever I think about you

High enough for you to make me wonder
Where it's goin'
High enough for you to pull me under
Somethin's growin'
out of this that we can control
Baby I am dyin'*

*“Why Can't I” LIZ PHAIR*


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From a distance, two adults looked on to the younger duo.

“I don't like it.”

James sighed. “I know, dear. I don't either. But Albus usually knows what he's talking
about. He's guided us and others through hard times.” He said, not liking what he was seeing
either. His son, hand-in-hand with the decedent of none other than Lord Voldemort himself. The very
wizard who had tried to take his son's life when he was just a baby.

“Would it be so terrible if I charmed the lake under her to turn into water for just a few
seconds?” Lily asked, tilting her head slightly to the left. “Just long enough for her to fall in.
It would return to its ice state right after, of course.”

James laughed in response. Before he could say anything, a voice from behind said cheerfully, “I
think it would right up there with letting her drop off a cliff into burning lava and perhaps
locking her in a trunk with a boggart that would turn into Minerva, saying she had failed all her
N.E.W.T.S. for two days.”

Lily and James both turned their heads to see their mutual friend Sirius Black, who came up
behind them and looked out onto the Lake.

“Sirius Black. You knew and you never told us!” Lily accused, letting go of her husband and
reaching for her wand as she rounded on Sirius.

The man held his hands up in surrender. “Lily, dear Lily, what would you have me do? The boy
trusts me! We're men! Us blokes stick together!”

Lily shook her wand at him threateningly. “Well if you blokes want to stick together so badly, I
can make it a permanent situation for the pair of you!”

James stepped away from his friend. “Hey, hey, hey. I like women. I don't stick with the
blokes, honey, remember that!”

The trio all laughed.

“So really, who is she?” James asked Sirius.

Sirius bobbed his head. “She's a good girl. Smartest witch I've ever met. Never been to
a Wizard School before. I'm sure Dumbledore told you she was trained by Clarence.” Sirius
said.

“Might have mentioned it.” Lily said stubbornly. “The fact that she is entirely too bright for
her own good despite never having proper schoolling isn't at all impressive. Not really.” She
pointed out bluntly.

Sirius snorted. “I don't think your eyes are the only thing green on you at the moment,
Lils.”

In response, Lily waved her wand behind her, towards the offending friend and muttered,
*“Tarantallegra.”*

Sirius's legs took on a mind of their own and he began to dance, arms and legs flailing
about wildly. The slick snow caused him to slip and fall, though his feet continued their
disastrous dance in the air while he was on his back, causing snow to fly in his face. The Potters
laughed at their friend's predicament.

After a few more seconds of enjoyment, Lily ceased her hex. “What were you saying? Trying to be
cheeky, there?” she asked mischievously.

Sirius stood and dusted the snow off himself. “No comment.” He mumbled, picking snow from his
hair.

And that concludes Chapter 21. Good stuff, right?! Like I said, if I get some good
encouragement, I will have the next chapter out by the 26th, promise. Otherwise…psh, it
could be months, who knows, ;) Haha. I am holding my story hostage!

Hehe.

**P.S.--> I have never had a particular liking for Lily (don't get confused with the
name on here, I joined accounts with my old beta, she's the fan). However, I loved writing her
in this. Especially the ending.**

**P.S.S.--> In her defense ^ I don't want to make it sound like she's terrible for
slapping Harry. This isn't something she does. It was one of those super-angry things…and
let's face it, he WAS being difficult.**

**Okay, I'm done. I love you all. Please review. And keep reading! I've replied to all
the previous reviews…just in case there are any of you who read my responses to you…**

**BYE!!!!**

**Until next time (which could be before the 26****th****…)**

**Peace out.**

***~Archie*~**

-->



23. Occlumency And Broom Rides
------------------------------



**Hi all! I know I said I would have this posted by the 26****th****, but I
got REALLY busy with just about anything and everything, so it's a little late! Well,
here's the next chapter. It's a whopping 30 pages, though I don't really feel like I
wrote much. I didn't even really feel like stopping where I did, but I figured it would be a
decent (and maybe even interesting) stopping point for the moment. Plus, I'm pooped. Very
tired. So enjoy! And thanks to all of those of you who read and reviewed the last chapter! I will
reply to the reviews this week as soon as I can. Most likely tomorrow night. Anyway. ENJOY!**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO:** **Occlumency and Broom Rides**

“Master, the *Daily Prophet* had a rather *interesting* story…” A voice whispered
nervously, his eyes directed towards a large, over-stuffed recliner chair.

“*Interesting*, huh?” The chair seemed to respond.

The man nodded anxiously, shoving the *Prophet* forward.

This action displeased the creature in the chair. “Well? *Read it to me, Wormtail*!” It
jeered impatiently.

“O-of c-c-course, my Lord.” He stuttered, clumsily dropping the *Prophet*. He lumbered
forward to pick it back up.

“You fool!” The chair ridiculed.

Finally, Wormtail began to read the front page article aloud to his master. Once he was
finished, he bent down to show the creature in the chair the photographs.

The creature pushed it away, insulted. “Disgusting. Pathetic. Why would you think I would find
this interesting?” The voice hissed angrily. “It's bad enough my mother's family had given
up on regaining any power in the Wizarding World. *Such weak fools*. And now, one who has had
the courage to come back into it isn't even trying to regain power. Even worse, fraternizing
with such repulsive company. *Harry Potter*, worst of all.” He spat the name, as if he could
think of nothing more revolting.

“My Lord, I'm sorry. I-I-I just thought—w-with one of them part of the W-wizarding World.
Close to Harry Potter. Perhaps…” Wormtail stumbled over his words, terrified.

“Perhaps what? Perhaps I could lure her away and join my side? And bring Harry Potter right into
my hands, and allow me to restore to power? That's ludicrous. It would nev—” He stopped
suddenly. “What was her name again?” He asked as reached out a near-transparent arm out towards the
*Prophet*. With a weak grasp, he peered at the photographs.


“H-Hermione G-G-Granger, my L-Lord.” The small petrified man stuttered.

Voldemort's head snapped up; his blood red eyes drilling his servant with a malicious stare.
“It's been awhile since I've seen my family. Perhaps, a family reunion is in order.” A
malevolent laughed followed, causing Wormtail to shake.


+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

The visit with Harry's parents had been interesting, to say the least. Their reaction had
been somewhat expected, of course. Dumbledore's addition, well, that had been a complete
shocker. Harry and Hermione had barely been able to even begin sorting the mess out. Nothing made
sense, and everything had been a complete surprise. Now what?

They had talked some while ice skating, but both had tried to avoid the subject for the most
part. They decided to deal with only one thing at a time, and, as odd as it sounded, dealing with
Harry's parents was actually the easier task at hand. Lily and James had still been at the
Castle when Harry and Hermione returned. They stayed for dinner, with Sirius joining them. The
dinner had been complete and utterly awkward. No one spoke of what had occurred in Dumbledore's
office. Lily and James ignored Hermione's existence, for which she was more than grateful.
Sirius had engaged the couple most of the time, leaving Harry and Hermione to sit in an
uncomfortable silence, exchanging soft whispers every once in awhile. Eventually, Hermione excused
herself to the Library, and didn't seen Lily or James for the rest of the evening.

Harry found her a short-while later, buried in a book. “Hey there stranger.” He greeted
cheerfully.

Hermione returned his greeting with a small smile. “Parents gone then?” She asked, wasting no
time.

Harry plopped himself down beside his friend and nodded. “Yep. About bloody time, I say. And
sorry about, well , everything. You didn't have to leave, though I definitely understand why
you did. I wish I could have followed.” He admitted.

Hermione gave a shrug. “It's fine. Let's just…I dunno, sort all this out, shall we?” She
asked, closing her book.

Harry sighed. “I don't think I have the energy. It's late. Can't we `sort'
tomorrow and just live with chaos for tonight?” He whined.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at his begging. “Honestly Harry. This is rather important, I would
say. Putting it off probably won't be the best of ideas.” She warned.

“I know. It's just until tomorrow.” He reasoned logically.

“But we start classes tomorrow. What if we're too busy? You heard the professors. After
Christmas vacation, the workload piles up pretty quick with the N.E.W.T.S. coming up.” She fired
back.

Harry gave a small groan. “Well then…we'll put it off forever. How bad can it be?” He asked
with an endearing grin.

“And if Voldemort himself comes knocking at our doors, read for a War?” She pressed on.

“Then,” Harry replied intelligently, “We will go hid under the blankets with a favorite
comforting stuffed animal, pray we aren't found, and try to sort it all out then.” He finished
as if it was the most obvious thing to do.

In response, Hermione chucked a book at him.

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Putting it off had been a lot easier than Harry had thought. Between Quidditch and classes, two
weeks had gone by without having time to spare to devote to figuring out the mess. Whenever
Hermione would bring this to his attention, he would remind her that the War could be years away,
and Dumbledore had even said to go on as if nothing had happened, and worry about their
N.E.W.T.S.

Hermione wasn't as convinced. She was terrified of the whole mess. She had actually been
charmed by someone, without knowing it. Someone was controlling her dreams. She had been
vulnerable. And she vowed she would not let such things happen again. She had her first lessons in
Occlumency with the Potions Mater this evening, and she had done more than enough research on the
subject, as well as practicing on her own. Harry may be willing to sweep al the new information
under the rug for the time being, but she was not. Instead, she had been researching at night, once
her homework was done, trying to find every ounce of information concerning Voldemort, prophecies,
Occlumency and its counter Legilimency, pretty well anything she could get her hands on.

She left Harry in the Common Room with Ron and Draco, who all swore to do their Charms essays,
and headed to the Dungeons.

Hermione wished they could have had these lessons somewhere else. She was used to being down
here for her classes, but there was a group of students then. Now, it was just her and Professor
Snape, who she could never figure out. When she first came to Hogwarts, he almost appeared—dare she
say it—*nice* to her. However, once her and Harry had become friends, his liking for her—if
that what it had been—had gone down.

“Miss Granger,” he greeted with a nod, opening the door to allow his student in. Hermione walked
in gingerly, a little nervous. “Sit.” He ordered, which Hermione obeyed.

“As you know, the Headmaster wishes for you to learn Occlumency. He has informed me of certain
dreams you have been having. He believes you had been bewitched, and hopes for that not to happen
again. Occlumency is a very obscure branch of magic, and when used correctly, can prove to be
highly useful.”

Hermione nodded in understanding.

“What do you know about Occlumency? I'm sure a know-it-all like you has taken the initiative
and done research on the subject.” He said disdainfully, causing Hermione's cheeks to heat
up.

“I actually have, professor.” She confirmed. “I understand that it is a branch of magic that
helps one to seal their mind against attacks, and is particularly used to counter Legilimency. I
don't understand the exact process. I know Legilimency is breaking into another's mind,
almost of if reading their thoughts. And if someone is well-practiced in Occlumency, they can block
these intrusions successfully. I think the Headmaster thinks this will help me prevent being
bewitched again.” Hermione finished quickly.

Snape nodded. “Occlumency is normally used to counter Legilimency, yes. It has much to do with
will-power. You have to leave your mind blank and empty. The way he wants to use it with you is not
unusual, though it is not the big purpose for it. `Reading thoughts' is a native
interpretation. The mind is not a book one can just read at leisure. The mind is a complex,
powerful thing. Legilimency allows an attacker to gain access to memories and even feed fake
memories or dreams to their victim. Eye contact and a close distance are usually needed, though
there are those mastered Legilimens who can do it despite time and space.

“Your mind has been bewitched. You have been experiencing dreams you don't understand with
real people you have never met. The only explanation is that someone had planted these thoughts
into your head. Dumbledore believes this wasn't done through Legilimency, but rather a simpler
charm. Once you can practice Occlumency successfully, these attacks will be blocked. Even if you
are unknowingly bewitched again, as long as you use this, they will fail to penetrate your mind,
and their charm will basically be snubbed.” He explained.

This all made perfect sense to Hermione. “I've been practicing for the last two weeks. I
read the practitioner must clear their mind and become void of all emotion.” Hermione closed her
eyes and raised her wand. “I'm ready.” She told him matter-of-factly.

Snape raised an eyebrow at her know-it-all demeanor. Did she think she had nothing to learn?
“That's it?” He asked smoothly. “You're `*ready*?'” He asked with a hint of
obvious skepticism, to which she just nodded, eyes still closed. He raised his wand, “You may try
to defend yourself however you would like.” He offered. “Three…two…one—*Legilimens*!”

Whatever Hermione was expecting, this was not it. She had practiced clearing her mind, and
despite knowing the attack would come, nothing could prepare her for it. Images tore through her
memory, flashes just seconds of each flashing before her before quickly going to another, and she
had no idea how to stop it.

She was ten and had just been pushed over by a boy in her class. As he ran away laughing, his
shoe laces mysteriously became untied and tied together, causing him to trip. She was fourteen at
Madam Suddusk's Volumes, stuttering her last name Solstice. Now she was seventeen at Girls'
Club, being teased. Her parents taking her wand away. Now she was under the Sorting Hat, as it told
her she would do well in any house. Her first day in Potions, as Harry told her she was in his
spot.

“STOOOOOOP!”

Hermione suddenly felt pain hit both her knees. She opened her eyes to find her knees had hit
the stone floor. It took a moment for her surroundings to come into focus. Snape was thrown
backward, with his wand out of reach.

“You used the simple Disarming Charm?” Snape asked, standing up and brushing himself off before
locating his wand.

Hermione shrugged. “I don't know. I just…something exploded and I hit the floor.” She
explained.

Snape nodded. “Not as poor as it could have been. You let me get in too far. Are you sure
you're ready?” He sneered vehemently.

Hermione knew he was making fun of how sure she was she could do this. “Did you see everything I
saw?” She asked, trying to change the subject.

“Flashes of it.” He responded, trying to sound indifferent. Did she just see a hint of pity in
his cold black eyes?



Embarrassed now, Hermione raised her wand. “What is the most effective spell to use to defend
it?” So maybe she didn't know everything.

“A simple spell is not the most effective way to counter Legilimency; have you listened at all?
Occlumency counters Legilimency.” He spat, his eyes harsh now. “What is Occlumency, Miss Granger?”
He asked.

“A branch of magic that allows the Occlumens to conceal their mind to—”

“No! What is Occlumency? Not the textbook definition. What IS it? I already told you. What is
it, really?” Professor Snape demanded, making Hermione cower slightly.

“It allows the mind to be free of emotion and—”

Snape suddenly flicked his wand in anger, causing one of the jars floating in his office that
held some unknown creature suddenly explode. “Not what it does. What is it about?!” Hermione could
tell she was making the Potions Master angry with her stupidity, but somehow, she must have missed
what it was.

“I-I don't know, Professor.” Hermione admittedly whispered, looking down at the ground. She
felt like crying.

Snape said nothing, but just stared. “Will-power.” He said smoothly. “Occlumency is about
will-power. It is closing your mind. No spell will do this. Will-power and discipline. Empty of all
emotion. Close your mind. Block out the attacker. Once you can conquer your emotion, you will
succeed in Occlumency.” He finished.

Hermione nodded. `*Clear my mind*,' she thought to herself. `*Empty all
emotion*.' She shook her hands, as if this would cause all emotion to fly out of her
fingertips. After another few shakes, she closed her eyes again, mentally preparing herself for the
next attack.

“I will go again on the count of three. One…two…three—*Legilimens*!” He attacked.

Hermione felt her barriers being instantly broken. Flashes of memories swept through her mind
once more.

Cho was corning her in the corridor. Avery and his friends were bullying her. She and Harry were
laughing in the Shrieking Shack. Sitting alone outside her house, waiting on her parents. She was
crying hysterically at Clarence's house.

Suddenly, she felt the same pain shoot through her knees as she dropped a second time. Her eyes
snapped open, and she found Snape in the same state as last time as well. He wiped his greasy hair
from his eyes.

Hermione's breathing was slightly heavy. Sweat dripped from her forehead. Anger coursed
through her, partly because he was witnessing such private memories, and partly because she
hadn't mastered Occlumency yet.

Snape stood and dusted himself off a second time, irritated. “That wasn't much better.” He
observed cruelly.

Hermione tried to ignore his snide comments.

“You aren't trying hard enough.” Her professor informed her.

Hermione just shook her head. “I'm sorry. I am trying. It's difficult.” Hermione
replied, making excuses.

Snape's lip curled. “But I thought you were `*ready*?'”

Hermione refused to meet his eyes. She felt tired and as if her energy had been drained.

Snape raised his wand again. “Prepare yourself.” He warned.

Hermione closed her eyes, fought off the tears that started to sting because of her failure, and
raised her own wand, attempting to clear her mind.

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Hermione's mind felt weaker than it ever had by the time she trudged back up to the
Gryffindor Common Room. She felt tired and sore. As she slumped in a an empty chair in front of the
fire, Hermione felt as if she could finally calm down. The room was mostly vacant. She spied Harry
laying on the couch, fast asleep as if he had been waiting up on her. She smiled for the first time
in the last couple hours. He was so sweet sometimes.

With a mischievous grin, Hermione used the Aguamenti Charm and sent a small jet of water in
Harry direction, splashing him in the face. He jerked away, nearly falling off the couch. Hermione
giggled.

Harry looked over at the source of his rude awakening and grinned. “Hey you.” He greeted. “How
long have you been back?” He asked, sitting up and wiping his eyes.

“Only a few minutes,” Hermione replied.

Harry moved over and motioned for Hermione to join him on the couch. “Was is dreadful?” Harry
asked, giving her a pitiful look.

Hermione shrugged in response. “I dunno. I never really got the hang of it. I'm supposed to
go back next week. I knew it would be difficult, but I didn't expect this. It's like
he's just...*prying* into my memories, and I can't stop it.” Hermione confessed,
feeling like a failure.

Harry placed a comforting arm around his friend and pulled her into a hug. “It's okay,
Hermione. I mean, this is only your first night. You already said before that this was a difficult
branch of magic to master. You'll get it; don't worry. You're the brightest witch I
know.”

Harry's words caused a smile to grace Hermione's lips. Despite feeling angry and upset
with herself, Harry seemed to melt that away. She knew he was right. She would get it eventually.
“It's not very fun.” She said whined.

Harry laughed. “You're stuck with Snape in the Dungeons. I don't think fun was even a
possibility.”

Hermione nodded. “I know, right? And my knees hurt really badly. I knew I fell on them several
times when I tried to block my mind. It seemed like every time I finally managed to stop his
attack, I just dropped. I even hit my knee on his desk at one point!” She recalled.

Harry's face suddenly became full of concern. He reached down and gently eased her skirt up
just above her knees. Bruises marked her legs, making Harry frown. “Are you okay?” He asked,
rubbing her knees slightly.

Hermione grimaced and Harry hastily pulled away. “I'm sorry!” He apologized quickly.
Hermione blushed, as did he. “I'm sorry, that was…inappropriate.” Harry said, looking away. “I
was just…”

“No, no, no. It's okay. I—er…it's just tender. I fell a lot.” She laughed, trying to
lighten the sudden awkward mood.

For a few minutes, neither said anything. Finally, Hermione stretched. “Well, I should probably
get to bed. Um, I'll see you tomorrow then?” She said, standing.

Harry quickly stood as well. “Yeah, er, I'll see you in the morning. Good night.” He replied
with a small smile.

Hermione returned his good night, and started up the stairs. She stopped and cast one last look
at Harry, who was watching her exit. She smiled and gave him a small wave, which he returned.

Right as Hermione was about to disappear through the door, she heard Harry's voice call
after her. “You know, you still owe me that broom ride.” He reminded her, smiling.

Hermione laughed softly, rolling her eyes. “I never promised you it would be any time this
century.” She countered easily.

Harry scrunched his nose. “That's not playing fair.”

Hermione chuckled again and disappeared behind the door.

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Hermione had pondered and contemplated for great lengths of time, racking her brain while trying
to figure out a suitable Christmas present. Now knowing how brilliant Harry's gift to her had
been, Hermione felt as if she had high expectations to meet. Despite knowing Harry quite well by
now, Hermione still couldn't think of anything that he wanted that he didn't already
have.

Hermione sighed as she closed her book. She had no interest in researching Voldemort right now.
Harry's present had captured all of her concentration at the moment.

Hermione slowly climbed off her bed and walked over to the window to peer out at the icy lake
where the moon reflected beautifully. She signed once more and sat back down on her bed and reached
over in her drawer where her camera was. She had charmed it so it would still work properly despite
the magical atmosphere. Smiling, she slowly went through the pictures. She stopped at one of her
and Harry at her Christmas party. It really was a great photo of them. Hermione picked up her wand
and conjured up a simple wooden frame. With another flick, the photo of her and Harry popped behind
the glass of the frame. The picture stared back at her, motionless. She needed to develop the film
in a special potion so the pictures would move. This would suffice for now though. She absently
admired the photo silently for a few more minutes before placing it on her bedside table by the one
of her and her parents.

After looking out at the night sky, Hermione gave one last sigh before finally deciding on a
present for Harry. It was petty, but unless she could come up with something better, it would have
to do.

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“Are you ready for this?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to?”

“Not even a little bit.”

Hermione giggled. “Harry , we *need* to talk about this.”

“Fine.” Harry said, crossing his arms in mock anger.

“I've been doing some research, and—” Hermione started.

“Without me?!” Harry interrupted with wide eyes.

“Harry, this is serious!” Hermione reprimanded.

Harry pulled a straight face. “Okay, I'm ready. What did you find out?” He asked. He really
was ready to figure this out. As much as he didn't want to face it, he knew they needed to.

“I've been doing some research. Dumbledore did give us a lot of information to go on. I
couldn't find anything about the prophecy, but I don't think too many people know about it.
But we know what it is. I couldn't find much about the connection we have. Honestly…I don't
know what we have to sort out…” Hermione admitted.

Harry sighed. “I dunno either. I think…rather than sorting these things out, we need to
more…come to terms with it, maybe? Like accept it, you know?” Harry expressed, running a hand
through his hair.

Hermione nodded. “Okay. So what do we accept then? I've read about as much as I could about
Voldemort. This `War' that's coming up…well, let's just say judging by how it had been
in the past, it's not going to be a good thing. A lot of lives were lost, both Wizard and
Muggle alike. It's frightening.” Hermione rambled.

“Okay. First, let's come to terms, and then we'll move on. Voldemort tried to kill me.”
Harry said simply. “He tried to take my life, and did not succeed. Now I'm supposed to kill him
and pretty much save the Wizarding World.”

There was a silence.

“And if you don't kill him, he will kill you. Remember the prophecy said *`Neither can
live while the other survives*.'” Hermione reminded him.

Harry sat there and let everything sink in. “I have to kill Voldemort. Who tried to kill me. And
took someone who I suppose was very dear to my family.” Silence. “I have to kill him. I have to
become a murderer.”

Hermione watched as Harry tried to process this. Despite having known this already, neither had
really tried to take in exactly what it meant. Now, she was all but forcing them to take a good
look at what was presented to them. Hermione could tell Harry was having difficulty wrapping his
head around this.

“I have to kill someone.” Harry whispered, blinking.

“Someone bad!” Hermione quickly added. “Someone who has wreaked havoc for years. I'm sure
you'll be a hero.” She tried to lighten the mood.

Harry shrugged. “I don't think I want to be a hero, Hermione.” Harry told her simply.

Hermione nodded in understanding. “Maybe…I dunno. Maybe he'll off himself first, who
knows?”

Harry smiled. Despite admitting the inevitable, he still couldn't quite comprehend what he
had to do. Could he really take someone's life? No, he couldn't.

Hermione looked at him worriedly. “Are you okay?” She asked, concerned.

Harry shrugged. “I don't think I can do this. I don't think I could…you know…kill
someone, you know?” Harry confessed, not meeting her eye.


Hermione nodded. “I know. I can't even believe it. But…maybe we don't have to, right now. I
thought we were, but maybe…instead, we just have to say it, even if we don't necessarily
believe it.”

“Okay. That makes sense. I mean, Dumbledore said the War could be years away. We don't have
to prepare right now or anything.” Harry insisted.

“Right.” Hermione agreed. “But it doesn't hurt to just, you know…discuss what has been said
to come. And of what's happened.” She said slowly.

“Alright then. So Voldemort tried to kill me. I can't believe it, honestly. Even more, my
parents never even said anything! How could they keep this from me? They said it was because they
wanted to protect me. You know, it would be a lot easier to take all this in if I had know even
known a smidgen of…of…of this!” Harry exclaimed.

“At least you knew more than me! And Harry, I can see where you're parents are coming from.
Can you imagine knowing all this at a younger age? How do you think a child or even younger
teenager would react to this? I think,” Hermione chose her words carefully, “That by waiting…they
in a way *did* protect you. This whole thing is too big for someone of a lesser maturity level
to comprehend.”

Harry didn't say anything. He knew she was right. But that didn't help matters. He knew
he may not have been able to handle it before now, but he still felt as if he should have at least
known *something*. He decided not to press it. Trying to win an argument with Hermione was
pointless.

Instead, he took the high road. “Okay. Now, what about you?” He asked. “What do you have to
accept?”

Hermione shrugged. “Dumbledore made it sound as if we had a big part in this coming war…I mean,
I can see how you have a big role, but as for myself…I just don't see how I could be important.
Is it because of Voldemort?” Hermione questioned, not really expecting an answer.

“Well, it's probably because you're so brilliant. And close to the Great Harry Potter.”
Harry said jokingly.

Hermione shoved him playfully. “I'm being serious!”

“Okay, okay. Honestly, Hermione, I have no idea. I think…I think we've done enough thinking.
Everything will work itself out in the end. I mean, what will come, will come; and we'll just
have to meet it when it gets here. We don't have to worry about this now. Instead…let's
just pay a little extra attention in Defense class?” He offered.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. “Did you come up with that all by yourself?” She asked, slightly
impressed with his persuasion attempts.

Harry gave her a cheesy grin. “How long have you known me? Are you even *aware* of my
charming wit?!” He asked in mock outrage.

Hermione laughed. “Whatever. I have a present for you.” She said suddenly, pulling out a small
wrapped box.

Harry's eyes lit up and he made a grab for it, though Hermione quickly levitated it way
above their heads. Harry jumped a few times, trying to snatch it from the air before pulling out
his own wand. However, Hermione's charm was much too strong. Finally, Hermione allowed the
present to drop directly on top of his head.

Harry rubbed the spot it hit for a few seconds, pretending to be wounded, before carefully
starting to unwrap his present. After a few small rips, he stopped and said, “Yeah, we both know
this isn't me…” A gleam took hold in his eyes and he started to shred the present's
wrapping apart.

Hermione laughed though she felt nervous again. It was lame, she knew. But it was kinda funny in
a way, as well.

Harry finally got to the small box and opened it. Inside, there was a coupon-like piece of
paper. On it, read GOOD FOR **ONE** FREE (RELUNCTANT) BROOM RIDE. REDEEMABLE AT ANY GIVEN TIME.
VALID **ONCE**. Harry started laughing loudly. “Priceless!” He said, pulling Hermione into a
hug. “This is great.” Harry said happily.

Hermione smiled at his reaction. “I know it's lame, but you're hard to shop for!” She
said defensively.

Harry shook his head. “No, honestly. This is great. And the other present. Really, don't
beat yourself up. Now…when should I redeem this, is the question.” Harry wondered aloud.

Hermione shrugged. “I dunno, but class starts,” she looked at her watch, “In about fifteen
minutes, so not now.”

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Harry trudged through the snow towards Hagrid's hut. Smoke billowed up from the chimney,
urging Harry to move faster because he knew that meant warmth. Finally, he knocked quickly and was
relieved when the door creaked open.

“'Ello there, Harry.” Hagrid greeted him, ushering him in.

“Hi Hagrid.” Harry returned, shoving off his snow-covered coat.

“No `Ermione?” Hagrid asked, pouring some steaming tea.

Harry shook his head. “No, she has lessons with Snape. Hagrid, what do you know about horses?”
Harry asked curiously. “Or maybe a similar animal in the Forbidden Forest even?”

000000000000000000000000000000000000

Occlumency, Hermione decided, was the worst thing ever. She had strong magical capabilities. She
knew this. She was a powerful witch. Snape, however, was a very powerful Wizard. He kept taunting
her, asking how she was going to block her mind from an attack she didn't know coming, maybe
even from the Dark Lord himself.

Hermione just kept picking herself up off the floor, half-embarrassed because of some memory he
had surfaced, half-embarrassed because of her incompetence. She wasn't getting worse. In fact,
she was improving. However, it wasn't at a pace that neither impressed neither she nor her
professor.

“Tell me, do you know the meaning of will-power, Miss Granger?” Snape sneered.

Hermione nodded. “Yes, sir.” She answered.

“Then show it!” He commanded.

Hermione nodded again.

She tightened her grip on her wand and attempted to clear her mind, despite the difficultly she
was having at the moment. Finally, she let out a steady long breath.

“*Legilimens*!”

Memories flashed through Hermione's mind's eye. She was clobbering playfully by Harry
into the snow. Her mother was hugging her, telling her she was proud. She was staring at Harry
under the mistletoe.

Hermione pushed as hard as she could. What she was pushing, she didn't know. *`Get
out!'* her mind exclaimed. Pushing and pushing. She tried to use all her strength and will
to push him out of her mind.

Suddenly, another memory flashed, one that Hermione had no recollection of. A small boy with a
rather large nose and greasy hair was sitting in corner, crying while two adults—parents
perhaps—fought and argued. Fast forward, the same boy was being taunted by a pair of boys with dark
hair, who had him levitated in the air, hanging upside down. Another flash and a man knelt at the
feet of a tall and thin pale-skinned man, with slits for nostrils and deep red eyes.

Hermione found herself being hurled back. She gasped for air as her wide eyes met her
professor's equally surprised ones. Hermione knew exactly who those memories belonged to. She
must have done something to reverse the spell and allowed her to peek into Snape's mind. Chills
ran down her spine. It was difficult to see how someone who—by the looks of it—had been bullied and
even cried as a young boy could be the very same man who bullied his own students maliciously. Even
more bone-chilling was the last memory. Hermione knew exactly what it was. Snape was a Death
Eater?

“I don't remember suggesting a Shield Charm.” He said, his voice deathly soft, “However it
did prove to be somewhat effective.”

Hermione was utterly terrified. She could tell he was very angry.

“I'm sorry, Professor.” She apologized. “I didn't mean to—”

He interrupted her, ignoring her words completely. “Let's try again, shall we?” He asked,
then, without warning, Hermione felt her mind being attacked again.

This time, it felt like an unstoppable force—an unstoppable *painful* force. No matter how
much she pushed and willed herself to get him out of her head, it didn't seem to have any
effect. She drove herself, the grip her wand tightening painfully as she mentally begged for it to
stop.

Harry and her ice skating. Her being banished from her original dormitory. Harry apologizing for
his behavior. Dumbledore speaking to her in Hogsmeade. A Quidditch game. Girls teasing her
relentlessly during Christmas break. Harry's lips crashing onto hers.

Then she blacked out.

Hermione was awoken by jets of water shooting at her face. She was laying on the floor of the
Dungeons, with her professor standing over her, his expression unreadable. Angry red marks inflamed
his cheek.

“What happened?” She asked, dazed.

“You produced a strong Stinging Hex.” He said, not bothering to ask if she was okay nor help her
up.

Hermione looked down at the floor.

“You let me get in too far.” He sneered, walking behind his desk and taking a seat.

“I'm trying.” Hermione said as tears threatened to spill over.

Snape's expression didn't soften. The red welts contrasted noticeably against his skin.
“You are not trying hard enough.” He said angrily.

Tears stung at her eyes even more. “I am!” She declared, getting angry.

“You are not!” He fired back, standing up.

“I am! I've been progressing and you know it. Just because you've been bullied your
whole life, doesn't mean you have to bully everyone else!” She spat angrily as all fear left
her briefly. As soon as she said this, she gasp and clasped her hand over her mouth, as if that
would cover up her words.

Snape's cold black eyes didn't flicker at her words. He didn't move, only drilled
her eyes with a harsh stare.

Hermione's fear suddenly came back to her, flooding her body and immobilizing her. For a few
minutes, Hermione just cowered under Snape's glare.

“That will be all for this evening. Get out.” Snape ordered softly.

Hermione tried to move, but her feet seemed rooted to the spot.

“I said, get out.” Snape repeated, his voice more persistent.

“I'm sorry.” Hermione began to apologize, stepping closer as she found her voice.

“GET OUT!” He demanded once more, this time the floor flew open and off its hinges angrily.

Hermione grabbed her wand and ran out the door without looking back.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Hermione found solace in a deserted corridor. She sat on the cold stone floor, slumped up
against the wall. What had she done? Whatever it was, she knew nothing good could come of it. Would
he stop teaching her now? What would Dumbledore say?

Despite the situation, Hermione couldn't help but feel better about her ability. She had
definitely made some progress. Perhaps a little too much. In all honesty, she didn't see how it
was such a big deal. He had attacked her mind dozens of times. So what if she reversed it? With a
sigh of defeat, Hermione found a more comfortable position and closed her eyes with her head up
against the wall. She felt tired, as she always did after her lessons. It drained her energy.


+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-

*I guess there's no use
I'm screwing up every little thing I ever try to do
I'm born to lose
yeah yeah yeah yeah
god must hate me
cursed me fo eternity
god must hate me
maybe you should pray for me
I'm breaking down and you can't save me
I'm stuck in hell and I wanna go home*

*“God Must Hate Me” SIMPLE PLAN*


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Harry glanced at his watch. Hermione should be back by now. It was very late and the Common Room
was empty. Finally, he picked up the small duffle bag he held in his lap and pulled out his
Maurder's Map and Invisibility Cloak. After scanning carefully, he found Hermione's dot in
a corridor, unmoving. He quickly darted out the Portrait Hole, worried.

With the worst in mind, Harry rushed through the Castle. He knew he was being noisy, but he
figured he could use the excuse of being Head Boy and was still merely making his rounds.
Fortunately, he didn't meet anyone, and finally skidded to a halt to the corridor Hermione was
in. With the tip of his wand lit, he quickly searched for her. He found his friend slumped up
against the wall, and felt suddenly sick. However, upon closer inspection, he realized she was
peacefully sleeping with a serene smile on her face.

His worry instantly vanished. He watched her for a few moments before sitting in front of her
and easing her awake.

“Hermione? Wake up!” He whispered, shaking her.


Hermione jerked awake, eyes squinted.

“Harry? What's going on?” She asked, sitting up and taking in her surroundings.

Harry furrowed his brow. “I dunno. Did you get tired and decide to take a nap?” Harry joked.

Hermione shrugged. “I-I guess. I was doing my lessons with Snape, and somehow, I accidently
broke into his mind and saw his memories. They were slightly embarrassing. He was very angry and
kicked me out. I stopped here to sort out what had happened, and well…I was pretty tired.” She said
through a grin.

Harry smiled. “I was getting worried, so I looked you up,” he said, pointing to his map.

Hermione smiled. “What time is it?” She asked, looking at her watch.

“Late. Past midnight.” Harry answered. He stood and reached out a hand. “Shall we?”

As they started down the corridor, Hermione made to go one way, but noticed Harry was headed the
other.

“Harry?” She asked quizzically.

He winked and ushered for her to follow. In silence, the duo walked to the Entrance Hall.
Hermione noticed the duffle bag Harry was carrying and knew what was going on.

“Now?” Hermione asked, looking at her watch again. “You want to fly *now*?”

Harry only shushed her and unlocked the doors before easing them open. He handed Hermione the
hoodie of his that she had come accustom to wearing before the pair of them trudged out into the
snow. Harry led them to a secluded area, and suddenly a large sleigh came into view, drawn by two
breathtaking unicorns. The sleigh was a deep red, with small bells lining the sides.

Hermione gasped, causing Harry's already-large grin to widen even farther.

“Great Wizards!” She exclaimed joyfully.

Harry grabbed her hand and pulled her closer. “Well come on then!” He urged. Hermione quickly
followed and was blown away by how white the unicorns were. They made the fresh fallen snow look
dingy; she never knew a color so pure ever even existed.

Harry helped her up into the sleigh before climbing in himself. He opened his bag and pulled out
a flannel blanket, a large thermos full of chocolate, and a small bag of chocolate chip cookies.
Once they were settled in, Harry reached for the reins and gave a small tug, causing the unicorns
to pull them forward.

Hermione's head was spinning. This was so surprising. “This is absolutely wonderful!”
Hermione gushed in disbelief.

Harry could only grin. “Well, I figured I could maybe ease you into the broom ride.” He answered
before pulling a miniature version of his Firebolt from the bag and enlarging it to full size and
placing it beside them.

“Have you ever seen a unicorn before?” Harry asked, taking a bite of a cookie.

Hermione shook her head. “They're so…breathtaking!”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, there's nothing more pure. Completely magical.”

As they slowly made their way across the grounds, Harry began to hum. “*Just hear those sleigh
bells jingling, ring-ting-tingling-too. Come on, it's lovely weather for a sleigh ride together
with you*.” He said, half-laughing.

Hermione giggled. “*Giddy yap, giddy yap, giddy yap, let's go, let's go at the
show.
We're riding in a wonderland of snow. Giddy yap, giddy yap, giddy yap, it's grand, just
holding your hand. We're gliding along with a song of a wintry fairy land*.” She sang back,
bobbing her head back and forth.

“*Our cheeks are nice and rosy, and comfy cozy are we. We're snuggled up together like two
birds of a feather would be*.” Harry sang, wrapping his arm around her and snuggling her close
to him.

Hermione opened her mouth to start singing, but couldn't think of any other lines from the
song. “And…er…I dunno.” She said, laughing.

They continued their ride in a comfortable silence, before Harry finally tugged the reins once
more, causing the unicorns to come to a halt. He stood and hopped from the sleigh and offered
Hermione a hand.

“Alright, I know you're a little scared, but it's okay. I'm a great flyer.” Harry
assured her, levitating his Firebolt.

Hermione nodded as she felt fear creep into her stomach. “Have you ever had any other
passengers?” She asked, slightly out of nervousness, slightly out of curiosity. Or could it have
been jealousy?

Harry shook his head. “No, you'll be my first. But my dad used to take me on broom rides
when I was too little to ride one myself. It won't be too hard.” He insisted.

Hermione wasn't sure if this caused her to be even more scared or relieved.

“Alright, do you want to ride in front of me, or behind me?” Harry asked, lifting one leg over
the broom. After one look at Hermione terrified face, his smile faltered some. “Hermione,” he said
softly, “If you really don't want to do this, then we don't have to. I don't want to
make you uncomfortable.”


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*I had no choice but to hear you
You stated your case time and again
I thought about it

You treat me like I'm a princess
I'm not used to liking that
You ask how my day was

You've already won me over in spite of me
And don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet
Don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are
I couldn't help it
It's all your fault*

*“Head Over Feet” ALANIS MORISSETTE*


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Hermione shook her head. No, she promised him a broom ride. She tried to conceal her fear as she
through all—or at least some—caution to the wind and hopped on behind him. She pulled up close
behind him and rested her hands on his waist. Harry grabbed then and readjusted them so they
wrapped around his midsection. “We'll need to be close.” He said. “Ready?” He felt more than
heard Hermione's confirmation as she nodded into his back.

Harry softly kicked off the ground, going slowly. He made a slow, lazy circle.

“We're going to die!” He heard Hermione's muffled voice say.

He laughed. “Hermione, look down. We're less than five feet from the ground.”

“Oh.”

“Alright, I'm going to go a little higher. You should look.” He insisted as he brought the
broom a few feet higher, careful not to scare her.

Hermione slowly pulled her face away from his back and looked around. They were pretty high up
by now, maybe fifty feet. Harry was going slow, just circling the grounds.

“Are you okay?” He called back to her.

“I'm fine!” She replied, smiling. “This is fun!”

Harry laughed and sped up some. He felt Hermione's grip tighten to a death grip.

“Not that much fun!” She shrieked.

Harry slowed them slightly.

Hermione was scared of heights. And the thought of a tiny broomstick between her legs being the
only thing holding her up sixty feet from the ground was terrifying. But somehow, after the first
ten minutes, she felt almost safe. She had seen quite a few Quidditch games. And practices. She
knew what Harry could do on a broom. And she knew he wasn't going to let anything happen to
her. So instead, she tried to push all fear from her body, and enjoy this small present from him.
Or from her, rather.


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L*et me be your wings
Let me be your only love
Let me take you far beyond the stars
Let me be your wings
Let me lift you high above
Everything we're dreaming of will soon be ours
Anything that you desire
Anything at all
Everyday I'll take you higher
And I'll never let you fall*

*“Let Me Be Your Wings” THUMBELINA*


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She didn't know how long they had been up there, but once the wind became too cold for them,
they finally made a graceful landing near the sleigh. They went for once last small ride, until
they were near the Forbidden Forest. Harry halted them. “I'm going to go ahead and let the
unicorns go.” He told her. “Do you want to pet them first?” He asked.

Hermione did. After a few minutes of appreciating the beauties, Harry released them. Then he
shrunk the sleigh to a miniature size that fit in the palm of his hand, which he put in his
pocket.

“I know I said the ticket was only for one ride, but how about I fly you up to your dorm?” Harry
asked.

They flew up to Hermione's window, which she easily opened, and they slowly climbed in.
Hermione lit a few candles, allowing them to see. Harry retrieved the sleigh from his pocket and
handed it to Hermione. “Just a little something to remember it.”

Hermione took the small sleigh and looked up at Harry. “Thank you.” She breathed, beaming.

Harry smiled softly at her. “Thank you, for letting me. Maybe we can go on another ride some
time. Surely it wasn't as terrifying as you thought?” He asked.

Hermione nodded. “I'd like that. It wasn't so bad.”

“I told you so.”

“Did not.”

Harry rolled his eyes in a very Hermione-like fashion. “Whaaatevver.”

Hermione laughed as a silence settled between them. Suddenly, Hermione was very aware of the
fact that Harry was here, in her room. And very close. And was looking at her, smiling.

She cleared her throat and took a small uncomfortable step back. She looked at her watch. “We
should probably be getting to bed soon.” She said, refusing to meet his eye.

“Yeah. Um…I'll see you tomorrow then.” Harry said indifferently, walking to the window.

Hermione suddenly felt terrible. Was she kicking him out? Just because she felt uncomfortable?
“Wait!” She said quickly, rushing over to the window before Harry could leave. “Er…I just wanted to
say thanks again. This was truly wonderful.” Hermione insisted.

Harry smiled. “No problem. It was fun.” He replied, hopping on his broom.

“Er…” She looked down at her watch again, “You know, we don't have classes tomorrow. If you
want, you don't have to go just yet. We could talk for awhile, maybe study.” She joked before
quickly saying, “I'm kidding. Um…unless you don't want to, or if you're too tired. I
understand.” She finished lamely as the awkwardness settled in her stomach.

Harry shrugged. “Whatever you want to do. If you're not tired, I suppose I could stay for a
few more minutes. I'm not really all that tired.” He confessed.

Hermione smiled. “Alright, let me just,” She lit a few more candles so her room had more
lighting. “Um, just let me,” she grabbed some clothes and motioned to the restroom.

Harry sat down on Hermione's bed awkwardly as he waited. He then stood and sat down on the
floor. He shouldn't get too comfortable. He noticed a desk and chair, so he got up and sat down
on the chair.

Hermione returned to the room, wearing a pair of navy sweatpants and Harry's hoodie. “I hope
you don't mind.” She said, looking down at his sweatshirt.

“Not at all.” He said, pulling the chair around to face her.

Hermione went over to the window and shut it then sat on the windowsill. Harry pulled the chair
over to join her.

Awkwardness ensued. Neither spoke. Neither knew what to say. “I noticed the picture from
Christmas.” Harry said, nodding towards her bedside table.

Hermione felt herself blush for some reason. “Oh. Yeah…I thought it was a good one so I hope you
don't mind…”

Harry shook his head quickly. “Not at all. I'd like a copy as well. It's a good picture.
That whole night was amazing.”

Ice breaker. Suddenly, the conversation began to flow, starting with the Christmas party and the
topics only stemmed from there. The unknown awkwardness vanished as familiar territory and
conversation were found. The stony exterior of the windowsill along with a cold draft caused them
to eventually move over and each sit on Hermione's bed, with each of their backs up against the
wall.

They chatted and ate all the snacks they could find. Hermione pulled out her camera and showed
him all the pictures from Christmas break, including ones she and her cousin had taken. This
inspired them to take a few goofy ones in the present. As they talked well into the wee hours of
the morning, drowsiness finally took over and they fell asleep in Hermione's bed.


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*Take time to realize,
That your warmth is*

*Crashing down on in.
Take time to realize,
That I am on your side
Didn't I, Didn't I tell you.

But I can't spell it out for you,
No it's never gonna be that simple
No I can't spell it out for you

If you just realize what I just realized,
Then we'd be perfect for each other
And will never find another
Just realize what I just realized
We'd never have to wonder if
We missed out on each other now.*

*“Realize” COLBIE CAILLAT*


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**S****peaking of drowsy…I'm tired. Gotta get up in 5 hours to work out, then go to
work. Ugh. Not fun. Maybe I'll skip the work out. Haha. Doubt it though. So even though I have
an early morning, I wrote this for you guys and posted it because I know I won't get to it
tomorrow. So with that (guilt) in mind…please tell me what you think! I don't feel like this
chapter really went anywhere, but that's okay sometimes. It should at least prove to be an
interesting morning. I'm sorry for any grammatical errors. I didn't have time to proof
read.**

**Anyway, I hope you liked. Until next time (I'm shooting for before the end of March**
**for the next post****)****, enjoy my other stories and…just be good. Haha.**

**Archie**

-->



24. A Past Concealed, A Past Revealed
-------------------------------------



**Hi there everyone. I know I said I wanted to post before the end of March…well, I'm
close, eh? However, I do have bad news. I've recently watched a movie that I would like to do a
HP crossover with—great movie though I won't spoil what it is quite yet!—so I will be taking a
pause on this story because I have such a high adrenaline to start this next one, plus I don't
feel like many people even like this one much. I'm sorry. The next one should be
better.**

**Hehe….APRIL FOOLS!**

**Haha, just kidding. I'm not pausing this one. However, I did watch a movie I want to do a
crossover on, but I'm not going to post it until I have more done. It should be quite
entertaining.**

**Anyway, enjoy!**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE:** **A Past Concealed, A Past Revealed**

The first thing Hermione noticed when she woke up was the sun shining into her room brighter
than usual, as if it was later in the morning. Next, she was aware of just how tired she still
felt, more than the usual wake-up-tired-before-you-really-wake-up kind of tired. Only after the
time of day and how tired she was all registered did she notice *it*. *It* being the dead
weight of *something* on her back. Confused, she shifted her body so she could look behind
her, pushing the unknown weight from her body in the process.

She gasped. Her noisy awakening had caused Harry to stir from his slumber. He peered up at
Hermione tiredly before wiping the sleep from his emerald eyes and ruffling his jet-black hair.
“Good morning, Hermione. What are you doing in here?” He yawned. As he stretched his arms to the
Heavens, he suddenly stopped as he took in his surroundings. He looked from the left to the right
before giving the still-shocked Hermione an impish grin. “Or I suppose I should be asking what
I'm doing here.”

Hermione hopped out of her bed as if she had just realized they were still in it together.
“I-I…What are you doing in here?” She asked, feeling embarrassed.

Harry shrugged. “Oops. Must have fallen asleep sometime this morning while we were talking.” He
explained.

“Well, this is entirely inappropriate. You should go.” Hermione responded hotly, unsure why she
was suddenly so angry.

Harry frowned. “Hermione, what's wrong?” He asked, standing up himself.

“This!” She replied, gesturing to the air between them dramatically. “You shouldn't be
sleeping in my bed. It's inappropriate.” She repeated.

“Hermione, it's fine. No one will find out.” Hermione tried to console her.

Hermione couldn't believe he wasn't even perturbed by any of this at all. It *was*
inappropriate, wasn't it? If a professor were to find out...

Harry moved to slip on his shoes.

“What are you doing?” Hermione asked anxiously.

Harry looked up at her. “I believe you asked me to leave. You can't have it both ways.” He
chuckled.

“Right.” Hermione nodded as she watched Harry gather his things. He walked over to the window
and cast a look back at Hermione. “I'm sorry if this has made you uncomfortable, Hermione. But
I assure you, it's not a big deal.” He smiled. “I'll see you at lunch.” He finished before
hopping on his broom and flying out the window.

Hermione stood there for a few minutes, unmoving. Perhaps it wasn't that big of deal. She
shrugged and tried to fight the smile that worked its way onto her face. She dropped down onto her
bed unceremoniously with her face hitting the pillows. Harry's familiar scent filled her
nostrils. Her smile widened for a moment as she pulled her blankets closer before she realized what
she was doing. She groaned in defeat. What had she gotten herself into?

+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+

Harry wasn't bothered in the slightest with the situation that the morning had brought. So
they woke up together. Big deal. It was with Hermione. He didn't mind, but he could tell
Hermione had been a little freaked out. However, could also tell she would get over it quick. This
was just how she dealt with new occurrences.

With those thoughts in mind, Harry headed for the shower.

+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0+0++0+0+0+0++0+0+0+0++0+0+0+

By the time they had met for a late lunch, the awkwardness from the morning had vanished.
Hermione had even agreed to watch a pick-up Quidditch game in the stands. While sitting alone in
the stands, Hermione mulled over in her mind what had happened. It really wasn't that big of a
deal, she knew. Instead she tried to figure out why things were happening like that. For example,
the sleigh ride the night before. Harry had obviously gone through a great deal of trouble to make
that happen. But *why*? Her friendship with Harry thus far had been a rather odd one. Of the
two of them, Hermione knew Harry had always given the extra effort. His input in their friendship
rivaled Hermione's work ethic for homework.

But sometimes Hermione didn't understand why. Or where it was going. From what the
headmaster had said, the pair of them would be in this War together—which meant the “temporary”
friendship she had (at first) thought she would have wouldn't be so temporary.

With the prospect of long-lasting now, Hermione tried to examine the then-and-now aspect of
their friendship, “then” being the beginning of their time together. It had been a rough start, but
a start nonetheless. And being together every day, almost all day usually, had definitely helped
rid the awkwardness and anxiety of their friendship. It had allowed them to escalate to a point of
relaxed contentment. Relaxed enough to even fall asleep together in the same bed obviously. He knew
most of her secrets at this point, and she his—as well as other things such as hopes, dreams,
fears, etc. There was no doubt they had indeed become best mates in just the span of a few months.
But the line stopped there at best friends. Ron and Draco were also best mates of Harry's, but
Hermione couldn't see Harry going out of his way for them like he did for her. What did that
mean? Were they—as in Harry and her—closer than he was with his other friends? Somehow, she doubted
that. Perhaps she just had a different relationship with him. Hermione could remember a time when
she could have sworn he preferred his male friends' company over hers. Now, she wasn't so
sure. Wasn't she the one who he spent most of his free time with? And the one he spent time
with on Christmas vacation? Didn't he call *her* every night during most of break?

So what did all this mean?

A big headache for Hermione. She sighed as she watched the boys continue to play their Quidditch
game.

As Hermione sat alone in the stands lost in thought, she heard a small cough behind her. Luna
Lovegood smiled at her as Hermione turned around to see the source of the noise.

“May I join you?” She asked politely, though already taking the seat beside Hermione before she
could reply.

“Of course.” Hermione said awkwardly.

“How's the game?” The blonde asked, staring out at the boys on the Pitch.

Hermione shrugged. “It's alright.”

Luna grinned. “It's an odd thing, Quidditch.”

Hermione didn't reply. Of all things that came out of the Ravenclaw's mouth, Hermione
couldn't see how *Quidditch* would be weird.

The trousers are quite nice though. I rather like the way Ronald's fit bum looks in them.”
She said lightly before winking at Hermione.

“Um, alright.” Hermione spoke, not really wanting to think about how Ron's bum looked in
*any* trousers.

Luna smiled. “I imagine you like Harry's bum in them. He is quite fit as well.” Ther was a
hint of laughter in her voice.

Hermione felt herself blush. “Not really.” She stammered embarrassedly as a wee bit of annoyance
bubbled within her. Why was Luna looking at Harry at all? Honestly! How many blokes did she need to
fancy at once, the slag?!

Luna gave her a knowing look. “You'd rather think about his fit bum without Quidditch
trouser then?” She suggested.

Hermione felt her face redden even further. “Luna!” She shrieked quietly with an incredulous
grin. “Keep your mind out of the gutter!”

Luna smiled, not deterred in the slightest by Hermione's uncomfortable disposition. “You
probably wonder if he wears boxers or briefs. Ronald is a boxer bloke. I've seen them.” She
spoke quietly with a voice full of mirth. “I'm going to send him Valentine's boxers,
perhaps to get his attention.”

Hermione was feeling entirely too distressed with where this was going. She didn't want to
sit here and discuss Ron or Harry's underpants—especially Ron's. Not that she wanted to
talk about Harry's either—because she didn't sit and wonder about such things as boxers or
briefs on him. He was her friend—though she had an inkling that they were boxers because she had
seen them peeking out from under his waistband on more than one occasion. Not as if she had been
looking, but rather it was just one of those things that are noticeable. Nothing to dwell on. And
most certainly nothing to dwell on here with Luna Lovegood.

“That's very nice, Luna.” Hermione managed to express apprehensively, looking around her and
trying to focus on anything besides the strange love-struck girl in front of her.

Luna laughed, oblivious to Hermione's uneasiness. “I fancy Ronald.” Luna entrusted dreamily.
“And his fit bum.”

“That's great.” Hermione replied, finally feeling somewhat relieved they were talking about
something a little less embarrassing. “I'll, um…put in a good word for you!” She promised.

Luna nodded. “I'd like that. Perhaps we can go to Hogsmeade together on Valentine's Day
and search for the famous Eros Love Bug.” She sighed. “They said if you find one with your love on
Valentine's Day during sunset, then you are destined to be soul-mates. They only come out in
the presence of true love.” She informed a very disinterested Hermione.

She had never heard of such a thing. And she had seen this girl on numerous occasions reading a
certain magazine—the Quibbler—upside down. Honestly, how legit could what she says be? Concerning
animals no one else had ever heard of, anyhow.

Hermione remembered the chat she and Luna had had after she had been cornered by Avery. That had
been a whole other Luna Lovegood. Hermione stared numbly as the younger Ravenclaw continued to
ramble on about the Eros Love Bug. She almost felt sorry for her because she made it so difficult
for anyone to take her seriously. Yes, at the same time, Luna seemed perfectly okay with it, which
made it difficult to have any pity for the girl at all. It made her feel bad to think of this as a
negative thing, when Luna clearly embraced her oddness.

Harry suddenly swooped in the stands. “Hello there, ladies.” He greeted cheerfully, taking the
spot beside Hermione.

“Hi” They replied in unison.

Ron and Draco landed beside them in the stands after Harry.

“Ronald, there are dozens of stairs on the way down—perhaps you can give me a tiny broom ride to
the ground?” Luna asked innocently, staring up at the Gryffindor with her large, light blue
eyes.

“Um...sure, why not?” Ron replied with a friendly smile.

Luna giggled softly and eagerly hopped onto Ron's Cleansweep, wasting no time before
wrapping her arms around his middle giddily.

Hermione smirked at her antics. Ron was pretty thick and clueless, however. She would have to
speak to him later. From what she has seen, he couldn't take a hint unless the girl all but got
naked in front of him. Hermione didn't fancy herself a matchmaker by any means, but the thought
of Ron and Luna was quite interesting.

“Earth to Hermione.” Harry chuckled, waving his hand in front of Hermione's face to get her
attention.

“Oh, er...what?” Hermione offered, slightly dazed.

Hermione realized she had been lost in her thoughts for so long, she hadn't noticed only she
and Harry remained in the Quidditch stands.

“I was just asking if you wanted a ride down to the ground.” Harry said slowly, gesturing
towards his Firebolt.

Hermione looked up to meet Harry's eyes. Her conversation with Luna crept into her mind,
causing her to smile softly and almost laugh inside with the sheer ridiculousness of it.

“What?” Harry said, confused. “Is there something on my face?” He asked, bringing his empty hand
up to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

Hermione shook her head. “I'm allowed to smile, aren't I? Perhaps I find you dashing,
and was thinking about it.” She said swiftly.

Harry grinned. “Dashing? Is that a step up for down from *absolutely gorgeous*?” He asked
quizzically.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Too bad that's not what I was thinking. That Luna...she's a
bit of an odd one. She certainly fancies Ron Weasley.” She said with a laugh.

Harry nodded in agreement. “Definitely. Didn't get the Looney name for nothing. So, how
about that ride?” He asked, brandishing his broomstick once again.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. “You realize this won't be a regular thing, right?” She
asked.

Harry smirked. “Once I gave you that first ride, Hermione, you know you won't be able to
resist my broomstick now.”

Hermione's eyes widened as she blushed and sputtered a very loud, “What?!”

Harry's smirk did falter. “I said—”

Hermione raised a hand to stop him. “I heard what you said…I, uh…” Hermione didn't know what
to say.

Harry raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “What? You seemed to like the last ride of my Firebolt
quite a bit…I figured I'd give you another. Maybe you can even fly it.” He said with
confusion.

Hermione nodded in understanding. She had heard him but she took it a different way. A way that
she shouldn't have been taking it. She mentally scolded herself for her inappropriate thought
process. She blamed Luna.

“I'll let you fly me to the ground.” Hermione agreed as she stepped forward, praying her
flushed face would calm.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked, slightly concerned.

“Of course. Ready?” She replied as she stepped one leg over the broom and scooting closer as her
arms encircled his middle.

Harry disentangled himself from her and moved behind her. “How about you fly it this time?” He
asked with a trusting smile.

Hermione's eyebrows rose. “I don't think that's such a good idea. I'm not a very
good flyer. And I've certainly never had a passenger before.” She quickly said.

Harry would have none of it. Instead, he only wrapped his arms around her strongly and pulled
himself close to her. “I'm sure you'll do great. Just pay attention and guide us around.
Just do what comes natural.” He said with a laugh.

Hermione took a deep breath, feeling nervous. Not only because she was flying, but she was
flying a very expensive broomstick that wasn't hers. She tried to push the nerves away, but
found it rather difficult, especially has Harry snuggled—did she just think *snuggled*?—close
to her.

“Okay,” Harry said, “Now just grip the handle tight enough to hold on, but not too tightly.” He
instructed, bringing his arms from her waist to her arms, holding his arms on hers. Hermione looked
behind her and stared at into his eyes. There were a few moments of silence as they stared at each
other.

“Do you feel anything?” Hermione asked softly.

Harry swallowed slowly. “I think so.” He breathed in response.

“You do?” She asked, louder this time with a furrowed brow.

Harry quickly broke contact. “Er…what?” He asked.

“Any pain. When you touched me. Did it hurt?” Hermione asked, feeling foolish now. What just
happened?

Harry shook his head. “No, I thought…um, yeah, no pain. I haven't since we talked to
Dumbledore.”

Somewhat confused by his behavior—as well as her own—Hermione nodded. “That's good. Um…shall
we go on with the lesson? How's my grip?” She asked lightly, trying to rid the air of this
sudden awkwardness.

Harry shook his head to clear his foggy mind. Focus. He replaced his hands on hers. “Maybe
loosen it up just a little bit.” He coached. “And now, just kick off the ground.” He said, helping
her and giving a small kick himself. Hermione gasped.

The two hovered a few feet from the ground. “Alright, now just lift your end slightly, and ,
well…just guide us.” Harry said, gently lifting over Hermione's hands.

Soon, the pair was slowly flying through the air. Harry's hands returned to Hermione's
waist as she leisurely led them in a wide circle over the Pitch.

“This is fun!” Hermione yelled behind her, causing Harry to laugh.

“I told you!” He replied.

Hermione made a few more lazy circles before she felt Harry's grip over her hands and felt
his breath on her neck. “Do you trust me?” He breathed in her ear.

Hermione nodded without a second thought.

“Are you sure?” He whispered.

A knot of nervousness began to ball in her stomach, as well as something else. Hermione could
feel the hairs on her neck spike. “Yes.” She murmured as she felt Harry's grip tighten. Before
she could say anything else, she suddenly felt as if her stomach was in her throat as Harry guided
them into an exhilarating loop in the air.

Once Harry righted them and Hermione was able to catch her breath, she shrieked, “ I can't
believe you just didn't that!” She could feel Harry smile behind her.

“You said you trust me.” He countered. “Was that fun?”

Hermione didn't say anything, partly because she thought she might get sick; partly because
she didn't want to admit that she liked the rush.

Harry took her silence as a yes. “I'm going to do it again unless if you have any
objection.” He informed her.

Hermione shook her head.

Harry led them through a second loop, causing Hermione to shriek this time with exuberance.

The first broom ride with Harry the night before had been amazing. Despite her fear of heights,
Harry had somehow made her feel safe. Today's, however, was very different. She still felt
safe, but it was much more daring. She was in front. She didn't have his back to cling to nor
did she have the option of hiding her head in the crook of Harry's neck when things got too
scary. No, she had to face it head-on.

Even though Harry was behind her, he had taking control of the shaft of the broomstick and was
guiding them thought all sorts of looks and dives—for beginners of course. This ride was
frighteningly exciting.

Finally, as the air grew chillier, Harry finding managed to help Hermione fly them to a rather
bumpy landing.

“What a result!” Harry exclaimed.

“That was bloody brilliant!” She proclaimed. “I can't believe I just flew us around the
Quidditch Pitch on your Firebolt. *Me*!” Hermione continued to squeal with excitement.

Harry laughed at her enthusiasm. “I saw! Who knows? You many very well be taking my place on the
team if you keep showing skills like that!”

Hermione scoffed. “No need to make fun!”

Harry grinned. “I'm not! You did brilliantly. Honest.” His voice grew more serious. “I'm
proud of you. I know you don't even like to stand close to a broomstick. And now, well,
you're well on your way to flying one like a pro!” He complimented, wrapping an arm around her
shoulders to squeeze her close affectionately.

Hermione knew he was exaggerating, “I know you're talking absolute rubbish foolishness…but
I'll take it!” She replied with a grin.

Harry shook his head and led them back to the Castle. Result indeed.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

“You know, Ronald, Luna really fancies you.” Hermione informed him as the four mates began to
eat their dinner that evening.

“What are you going on about?” Ron asked, piling potatoes onto his plate.

“Luna!” Hermione repeated. “She fancies you. Couldn't keep her eyes off you during
Quidditch.” She said, eyeing his Neanderthal table manners as he shoveled three spoonfuls into his
mouth before chewing. “Though personally, I don't see why.” She remarked with distaste.

“Really?” Ron sputtered as bits of carrots flew from his open mouth. He swallowed before
continuing, “Like what she saw, huh?” He asked, flexing his muscles. “Dug my action, did she?
Checking out the Ron Bomb!” He noted victoriously, causing Hermione, Harry, and Draco to pause in
their eating, look at each other in disbelief before bursting out laughing.

“Ron Bomb?” Draco repeated, snickering.

“I think you may be thinking of Won-Won.” Harry inputted with a serious face.

“Oh, I wuv you so much, Won-Won.” Draco mocked, making kissy faces.

Ron blushed as he tried to act nonchalant. Pointing at each of this two male friends, he said
slowly, “And fuck you blokes. Hermione, you are my only friend tonight.” He said, moving closer to
her.

“Are you sure Lav-Lav isn't a friend as well?” She teased.

Ron moved back away from her. “And now my beef is with all three of you.” He said.

The three laughed loudly, feeling no remorse at all over taking the mickey out on their friend
and his past history with Lavender Brown, a fellow Gryffindor.

“But honestly, Luna does fancy you. Only Merlin knows why—” Hermione said with a laugh.

“Hey!” Ron said. “I don't see anyone fancying you.” He joked defensively.

Hermione knew he was kidding, but the cheap shot still stung. Before she could retaliate, Harry
quickly cute in. “No reason to start bickering. Hermione happens to be a *very* fanciable
girl. And Ron…well, it's obvious any girl would be…er…*lucky* to have him.” Harry said as
the three stared at Ron in slight disgust, as he had barbeque sauce smeared all over his mouth.

“Why thank you, Harry. You are now my friend again.” Said Ron, missing everyone's amused
looks at his eating habits. “We all know you find Hermione attractive and fanciable—at least some
bloke does.” Ron joked. “Kidding., of course. And now that I've been recognized as a bloody
crackerjack catch, let's call it settled for the night and break some cake.” Ron declared
lightly, pulling the closest pastry towards his plate with a hungry gleam in his blue eyes.

During Ron's foolish speech, both Hermione and Harry's eyebrows flew towards the
enchanted ceiling as Draco choked on his pumpkin juice, an amused twinkle in his eye.

Hermione looked over at Harry, but he wouldn't meet her eye. Had he told them he found her
attractive? Sure, he had complimented her on her outward appearance before, but to hear that he had
told other people…Hermione couldn't stop the grin that fought its way onto her face even if she
wanted to.

Meanwhile, Harry rolled his eyes. *`Ron…you're such a prat.'* He thought,
half-embarrassed. He didn't know why. Perhaps he just didn't want to her hear it come from
Ron's mouth.

Fail.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000

Hermione dreaded Potions. It was the first day back since she had delved into Snape's
memories, and she had managed to avoid him until now. She and the three boys took their seats at
their usual table in the back—the very same table they had tried to bully Hermione from that first
day so long ago. Surprisingly, Snape ignored Hermione all class long as they concocted a Shrinking
Potion.

“Bottle your potion and bring it to the front with your name on it.” Snape instructed.

Hermione bottled hers and headed for the front of the room. She handed Snape her potion. As she
turned around, the sharp sound of shattering glass met her ears as she turned to see potion—her
perfect potion—spilled all over the floor, and a now-very small desk.

“Oops.” Snape said with no remorse.

Hermione had already cleared her potion from her cauldron. She gave him a hard stare, determined
not to let her anger get the better of her. “It worked correctly, did it not?” She asked
innocently.

Snape sneered at her before righting the size of his desk and ignoring her.

Hermione fumed silently.

For the rest of the day, Ron, Draco, and Harry were forced to hear about what a total asshole
the Potions Master was.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Hermione decided her best option would be to profusely apologize yet make a case clear that she
must be progressing at her Occlumency lesson that night.

However, before she could make her case, her mid had already been attacked and her defenses were
weak. Flashes of the past rushed through her mind.

She was talking to Dumbledore in his office. She and Harry were on a sleigh ride. Luna was
talking to her about the Eros Love Bug. Harry looped them on his Firebolt.

Before he could go any further, Hermione stopped the raid on her mind, panting.

“Professor—” She began, but was interrupted by another surprise attack.

She was alone at lunch at her Muggle primary school, with only a book to keep her company. She
was at her Grandma's, watching a television documentary. A group of Slytherins were physically
hurting her for trying to play the hero.

Humiliated, Hermione cast a Shielding Charm to make it stop, and once again, she felt her mind
being assaulted with memories that weren't hers.

A skinny dark-haired boy and a red-headed girl about the age of ten sat at a park, laughing.
Fast-forward years later, same boy reading alone under a tree as four boys came to taunt him as
they levitated him upside down suddenly, calling him names. A young Snape calling an auburn-haired
girl a Mudblood. A boy looking into the yellow eyes of a werewolf.

Suddenly, Hermione felt her body being hurled back and landing on the floor. Snape, face
flushed, glared daggers at her from a few feet away.

“Professor—I'm sorry.” Hermione began, trying to stand.

Snape raised his wand to reach into her mind again. Before she could think of anything else,
Hermione quickly guarded her mind and attempted to black the attack with nothing but the strength
of her mind.

No memories played before her eyes. Hermione could feel his probing, but was able to keep it at
bay—barely.

Her head began to fill with a dull pain as she felt her defenses wane and her will-power start
to weaken and slip away from her control. Sweat had broken out on both their foreheads as their
minds dueled for power over the other. Finally, Hermione couldn't withstand it any long and
blacked out.

She came-to after a few minutes. As she began to stir, she found herself lying on the cold stone
floor, with Snape's back to her, his eyes on a small fire roaring under the mantle. Her first
thought was just how feeble the green flames of the fire were.

She cleared her throat. “Sir?” She addressed him uncertainly, standing and walking towards her
professor.

She came up behind him to see what he was looking at, but saw nothing but the flickering flames
of the fire.

Finally, he turned to look at her. “Good enough for tonight. Go.” He dismissed her before
turning back around.

Hermione nodded to his back and headed for the door. Just as her hand grabbed the handle, she
stopped and turned back around and said nervously before she could stop herself. “Is that why you
hate Harry Potter so much?” She asked softly. She had easily recognized one of the young men who
had been levitating him in his memory. And she had an inkling of who the other two were.

Without turning around, he replied coldly, “I believe I dismissed you.”

Despite her professor's instructions, Hermione walked over and took the seat in front of his
desk. “I know no one has probably apologized for it, but I'm sorry on their behalf.” Hermione
said sympathetically.

Snape finally turned around and sat down at his desk. He looked her in the eye. “Leave.” He
harshly commanded.

Her professor's demands did not deter her as she continued, “I know—obviously—what it feels
like. But being angry…it doesn't help matters.” She told him.

Snape sneered. “I don't need a therapy lesson, Miss Granger.”

Hermione chuckled nervously. “That's good because I know I'm very under qualified for
such extensive help. I just want to talk.”

Snape's lip curled. “I don't.”

“You know, it's really not fair for you to be angry with me for seeing your memories. Merlin
knows you've raided mine like Ron Weasley would raid a refrigerator for a midnight snack.”

“I don't believe I asked you about fairness. I also don't recall caring about what an
insufferable *Mudblood* know-it-all like yourself has to say.” He said ruthlessly with a nasty
gleam in his eye.

His words cut deep, but Hermione refused to show it. Her mind went to the memory of his she had
seen, where he had called an auburn-haired girl the same thing. And she knew exactly who that had
been.

“That was rather unnecessary, professor.” She said coldly.

Snape stared at her silently. “Get out.”

“You said the same thing to Lily Potter.” She went on, ignoring his comments. “But really, is
that why you hate Harry? Because his father and his friends were jackasses in school, and his
mother was a Muggleborn witch?” She continued, trying to shield the fear in her voice. What was she
doing?

Her professor seethed. “GET OUT!” He roared angrily.

Hermione raised her voice in retaliation. “That's not fair. You can't hate him because
of his parents. It's just as ridiculous as people hating me because of Voldemort. I'm not
linked to him at all, yet people already make their minds up about be before even getting the
chance to know who I am.” She stopped and quickly questioned if she was getting ready to cross the
line by saying it, but just as she had thought of it as a bad idea, it came out like word vomit.
“You would think that you would like me more, being the spawn of a man you clearly once served.”
Her voice was cold as her memory flashed to one of his, of him on his knees and bowing to
Voldemort.

Before she could comprehend anything, jars started shattering all around her, and the feeble
fire roared to life and flickered with flames the color of blood. To shield herself from the glass,
Hermione threw herself to the floor while her professor stood behind his desk, fuming.

Once the shattered stopped and the fire calmed itself, Hermione gingerly stood, wide-eyed.

“You have no business to make any assumptions.” He said angrily. “Now I will tell you one last
time before I physically make you, get out and do not come back. Our lessons are over.” His voice
was oddly calmed.

Most of Hermione wanted to run out the door, and never come back to these Dungeons. Terror
ripped through her. Another part—another tiny part—wanted to stay and finish whatever this
confrontation was.

Unfortunately, the smaller part won. She had to push herself towards the chair in front of him
and sit. “If I'm making assumptions, then tell me the truth.” She said evenly, fearful.

Snape sneered. “You couldn't handle the truth. You're shielded from the world in your
little safety bubble your parents and Dumbledore created for you. “

Hermione laughed a sharp, hallow laugh. “You think I don't know harsh reality is?” She
asked.

“You've been teased, so what?” He asked. “That's not the end of the world.”

“It certainly pushed you into becoming a miserable old bat.” Hermione said defensively.

For the first time that night, Hermione thought she saw maybe a hint of Snape's smirk.

“Is that why you joined Voldemort? To get back at people who made your life miserable?” Hermione
asked seriously.

Snape didn't say anything for a moment before replying evenly, “People don't join the
Dark Lord for such trivial and foolish reasons.”

Hermione nodded. “Were your parents divorced?”

A faraway look reached Snape's eyes. “No. They should have been.” He said softly.

“So by staying together and fighting all the time, unhappy, it just made your life worse.”

Snape had finally managed to sit down at some point, and his hard, external shell seemed to
finally give way.

“What about Harry's parents? And Professor Black? And was that Remus Lupin as a werewolf?”
Hermione coaxed. She could tell he did not want to talk about this, and was very private about his
past. At the same time, this was probably one of his first opportunities to pour out his heart and
soul to someone who bothered to listen, and after years and years of pent-up anger, perhaps it was
a release he needed.

“Harry's father was always stuck up. Thought he was better than everyone—him and his little
gang. They were the bullies, not me. Even tried to get me bitten by their werewolf friend. Always
ganged up on me, especially Potter and Black. He even though it impressed Lily. It never did. I
never will understand how he finally managed to get her. He never deserved her.” Snape said softly
with a bite of anger in his voice.

Hermione furrowed her brow. Did Snape…the way he was talking about her, and even called her by
her name rather than her surname…”Did you love Lily Potter?” Hermione asked cautiously.

Snape gave a hallow laugh. “Lily Evans, not Potter. We used to be great friends—even before
Hogwarts. She always thought she needed to stick up for me. She hated Potter. I didn't need for
her to try to play the hero all the time though, made me look bad. Potter always thought I was
jealous of him and his good looks and Quidditch skills…no, he was the jealous one because I was
closer to Lily than he was. And he hated me for it.”

Hermione was confused. “Then why did you call her a Mudblood?”

Snape's almost amused persona evaporated. “It was one of the biggest mistakes I'd ever
made. I effectively ruined my friendship with her—pushed her towards Potter even. I was sick of her
sticking up for me. I didn't need it. After I said it, she had nothing to do with me.”

Hermione nodded. “Why did you join Voldemort then?” Hermione asked uncertainly.

Snape was quiet for a moment. “I'd always has a fascination with the Dark Arts, even in
school.”

Hermione waited for more, but nothing came. She was about to ask more, but decided not to press
the issue.

“Did you reform or something?” Hermione asked.

Snape nodded. “Once I almost got Lily killed by telling the Dark Lord about the prophecy…I
switch sides and became a double agent and worked for Dumbledore, while the Dark Lord still thought
I was working as a spy for him. However, I'm a skilled at Occlumency and was able to keep my
true intentions a secret.”

A few minutes of silence passed as neither said anything. Hermione felt an odd sense of
accomplishment. She could see a small difference in the wretched man before her. Perhaps he felt as
if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

“So is this why you hate Harry?” Hermione asked again.

Snape smirked. “He is so extraordinary like his father. He swaggers around school and thinks of
no one but himself.”

Hermione shook her head. “No, he's very kind actually. And really is a great bloke. I think
you see him as James because he had tormented you so much.”

Snape scoffed. “Tell me, Miss Granger…when you first arrived to the school, how did he treat
you?”

Hermione didn't say anything for a minute. “But then he changed. He was only like that
because of how his parents raised him. Now, he's much different.” She tried to persuade
him.

Snape stood. “Think what you want. You're dismissed. I have homework to grade.”

Hermione nodded and finally stood and walked towards the door. “And I trust, Miss Granger, that
what I had shared with you tonight was in confidentiality.”

“Of course. Good night professor.” She walked out before turning around real quick as a thought
occurred to her. She popped her head in his office. “Professor?” She called softly.

Snape looked up from his desk expectantly.

“Today in class, my potion…” She trailed off.

“It did what it was supposed to do. Ninety.” He replied, looking down at an essay on his
desk.

“Why only a ninety, sir?” Hermione asked, raising her eyebrow.

“Because your butterfingers dropped it and did not allow me to have a sample.” He said, not
looking up.

Hermione rolled her eyes before saying loud enough to hear, “Miserable old bat,” As she walked
out.

Snape *almost* smiled.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Hermione had decided to—for the time being anyway—keep her word to Snape and keep their
conversation confidential. When asked by Harry about the lesson, her respond had been that it
wasn't too bad, and she thought things were actually looking up. She only hoped classes with
Snape would be a bit more pleasant now. Their conversation had also not allowed to her too at her
Defense Against The Dark Arts professor the same at first. He had been a right bully, which was a
shame because she he was her favorite teacher—it didn't hurt that she was a good friend of
Harry's. However, the more she thought about it, she tried to almost see him as Harry. Sure,
Harry had been a right asshole at first…but now, that's changed. In Professor Black's
case—he just grew up.

Now, however, she had other things to think about, like the Hogsmeade trip only a week away,
conveniently on Valentine's Day. Her first thought had been what if Harry found a *date*
for the day—but that thought (along with the sheer annoyance of the thought of it) quickly
vanished. It was absurd. Harry would not have a date for the day, she knew. However, just to make
sure, she always kept her ears perked whenever the trip was mentioned. Hermione sighed as she
looked down at her essay for Transfiguration before glancing at her watch. She was sitting alone in
the Library and had been up since early this morning. She wondered if Harry had even woken up
yet.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Harry managed to finally stumble down the stairs from his dormitory—showered and dressed for the
day yet still tired. He had had a terrible night's sleep. He kept having some odd dream, yet
now, couldn't remember for the life of him what it was.

Brushing it off, he walked over to where Draco and Ron were sitting in the Common Room.

“Ah, he did decide to wake up this morning.” Draco greeted him.

“We had a wager going actually.” Ron said lightly.

“Wankers.” Harry said with a roll of his eyes.

“She's in the Library, pouring over an essay I imagine.” Draco informed him, not looking up
from the magazine he was looking at. “Why she must do that on a bloody Saturday is beyond me.”

“Okay. I'm probably gonna go haul her out of the Library and,” He glanced at his watch,
“Find some food.” Harry said, looking over at the Portrait Hole, though not missing the look his
two best mates shared. “What?” He asked, confused as Ron dug into his pocket and flipped a Galleon
in Draco's direction, who caught it easily.

“Nothing.” Draco said, shaking his head. “Run along.”

“What was that about?” He repeated.

Ron snickered. “Just had a wager on whether or not you'd even sit down or even go to the
Great Hall before you went off and tried to find Hermione like the lost puppy that you are,
that's all.” He said lightly.

Harry furrowed his brow and sat down. “What's that supposed to mean?”

Draco shrugged. “Nothing really. We just think it's a bit funny that you're all consumed
by her, especially lately.”

Harry shook his head. “Don't be ridiculous. I was just going to go see if she was hungry or
anything.”

“She already ate. We ate with her.” Ron informed him.

Harry was slightly irritated now. “Well, I didn't know that.” He said defensively.

There was a few beats of silence as the three boys sat there. Finally, Ron said what he knew
Harry was all but dying to hear, “Go ahead. We won't judge you.”

Harry stood, trying to take his time. “I'm not leaving because you're dismissing me. I
just…like her company is all.”

Draco smirked. “I think you like her company a little more than you let on.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Don't be ridiculous.”

Ron nodded. “Are you two going to Hogsmeade together on Valentine's Day?” He asked.

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Not because it's Valentine's Day…we're just going like we
always do.”

Draco and Ron both stood. “And I have a date, and Ron here…well, with Merlin's help, just
might find one as well. So you two will be on a date yourselves.” He said, leading them from the
Common Room.

Harry scoffed. “That's mad. Just because we'll be alone doesn't mean we're on a
date.”

Ron shrugged. “I dunno mate. When you fancy her, it might. I wonder if she knows it will be a
date.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “You two are talking mad. I'm going to go find Hermione, not because
I'm a lost puppy, but rather, she is probably the only one who isn't going nutters like two
of you.” Harry said, detouring in the direction of the Library.

He quickly walked down the corridor, ignoring the snickers coming from behind him.

He found Hermione just as Draco had predicted. “Hey there.” He greeted cheerfully, trying to
push his morning conversation aside.

“Hi Harry!” Hermione greeted, shutting her book and with a wave of her wand, all of her things
packed themselves up neatly in her book big.

Harry laughed, “And here I thought it was going to be difficult to get you to put the books
away.”

Hermione smiled sheepishly, “I really don't fancy doing this essay right now…and I'm way
ahead anyway.” She said defensively.

Harry smiled. “I think you just prefer my company over the company of your textbooks and
essays.” He teased.

Hermione smiled. “Don't flatter yourself.”

“Okay, I'll try not to. How about some food?”

Hermione shrugged. “I could eat something.”

And with that, the two Gryffindors headed for the Great Hall. Hermione walked towards Ron and
Draco, who were seated at the table as an unsettling feeling found its way into his stomach as he
remembered his conversation with them earlier.

“Aw, fancy meeting *both* of you here.” Ron said, greeting his two friends.

Harry ignored his friend's comment, and Hermione didn't notice. “Hi. Lunch looks great.”
She said, grabbing a sandwich.

As lunch pressed on, Ron cleared his voice noisily. “Hermione, you said the Looney Lovegood
fancied me, right?” He asked.

“Should be a decent shag.” Draco said easily.

Hermione's eyebrows flew up. “She is most certainly not just a *shag*, and Ronald
Weasley, I swear if you treat her so…well, let's just say you won't be *shagging*
anyone ever again.” She warned, bringing her wand up and laying it on the table top with a
forewarning purpose.

Draco smirked. “A little testy, are we?”

Hermione ignored him and just cast Ron a warning look.

Ron laughed. “Then I'm certainly not going to treat her so. But really, I wouldn't mind
maybe taking her out, I dunno. I don't know her too well and she isn't my type, so I'm
a little nervous. What do you suggest, Hermione? Should I ask her to study?” Ron asked,
concerned.

Hermione stared at him for a moment, calculating before smiling and finally replying, “I think
you should ask her to Hogsmeade on Valentine's Day. And just be yourself…or maybe a little less
of yourself.”

Draco raised a hand to interrupt. “Wait. It's Valentine's Day. Now mate, you do realize
how much pressure that puts on you, right? Instant relationship in her mind. You'll need to
bring something to the table to make sure you keep things…not so romantic.” Draco advised.

Ron nodded and snapped his fingers. “That's a good idea, Draco. But what? What would make
this one-on-one date more casual so neither party will feel any obligation?” He asked
thoughtfully.

Both Ron and Draco scratched their chins with consideration.

Harry watched the scene unfold before him with slight apprehension. He had known Ron and Draco
for years. Draco had always been suave with the ladies, while Ron had done well enough without
asking other girls for advice. Now, all of a sudden, he was asking Hermione for guidance.

Meanwhile, Hermione shrugged. “I dunno. I can see how you may want to make it more casual. Um…”
She looked at Harry for help, but he seemed far away and unaware of the dilemma before them.
“Perhaps you can avoid lovey-dovey places?”

Draco shook his head. “No, I don't think that would be enough. Actually…I would be
willing…wait never mind. I know my date won't go for it.” He said, shaking is head again.

Hermione furrowed her brow. “What?”

Draco sighed. “Well, I was going to say me and Amanda could double date, take some of the
pressure off—”

Bam. Harry saw right through their plan. He glared at his friends in disbelief.

“But like I said, Amanda has being going on and on about how romantic the day was going to be
and such. And unlike you, Weasley, I don't have issues with the opposite sex.” Draco said
smoothly.

Hermione nodded. “That probably would have helped; a double date of sorts. Maybe she has a
friend and date that can go with you?” She offered.

Ron sighed. “I dunno. That might be awkward, with me not knowing them. I think I'd feel a
bit better if the extra couple was kind of on my side, I suppose, you know? If only Amanda
didn't have issues…” He said wistfully. “Plus, how awful would I sound if I asked her to bring
a couple? Talk about rude…” He said, blowing out a puff of air helplessly. “Unless…” He rounded on
Harry with an innocent smile.

Harry was still shooting daggers. “Unless?” He repeated tightly.

Draco's eyes widened with mock realization. “That's a brilliant idea, Ron. Harry, you
don't have plans for the Hogsmeade trip, do you?” He asked with a grin.

“Actually—” Harry began quickly.

“I mean, it wouldn't be a bad idea. Perhaps you can just ask a girl for kicks to go on a
double date with you—it doesn't have to mean anything. Oh, but that would leave…” His eyes fell
on Hermione, whose expression was unreadable.

“Both of you could go with us, then.” Ron summed up. “Me and Luna know both of you rather well,
so it wouldn't feel uncomfortable. And it wouldn't have to mean anything, just a simple
meaningless double date, to ease off the pressure. You two wouldn't have to stay with us all
day or anything…just hang out for a bit to make it comfortable. So how about it then? Double date
with me and the nutter?” Ron asked hopefully, looking from Harry to Hermione.

Hermione looked over at Harry, alarmed. She noted Harry had an almost upset look on his face.
The small bit of—what?—excitement maybe vanished. Before he could say anything, Hermione quickly
responded, “Don't be daft, Ronald. That's ridiculous. I'm sure Harry doesn't want
to spend his day on a fake date he doesn't want to be on,” She said evenly, not meeting
anyone's eyes, “And nor do I. Um…I've got to go. I'll catch you guys later.” Hermione
quickly said before standing and grabbing her bag before starting toward the doors. She suddenly
stopped short and turned to look at Ron. “And by the way, Ronald Weasley, it's Luna and
*I*, not *me and Luna*.” She corrected before exiting the Great Hall in a rush.

Harry looked over at his sneaking friends with fury. Ron and Draco looked at each other
guiltily. “Hm, hopefully it's not feminine problems.” Draco said casually.

“What do you two think you are doing?!” Harry hissed, irritation etched all over his face.

“What are you talking about?” Ron asked innocently. “Personally, I don't see the big deal in
doing a mate a favor. I'm not asking you two to snog or anything…just pretend to be on a date
to boost some confidence is all.” Ron said in a wounded voice.

“Bull shit.” Harry called, crossing his arms. “Look, I realize you two think it's funny to
fuck around with me and Hermione—with Hermione's and my relationship, but it's not funny.
It's not funny at all. And instead, you're just pissing people off. Look what you've
done. Did you see the look on her face? Don't you think she's been rejected enough, and now
she thinks it's happening again—worst of all by me?” He raged.

“*Why do you think that bothers her so much*?” Draco pointed out.

Harry was silent.

“She thought you were ashamed of pretending to go on a date with her or something, and look how
she took it. What does that say for her feelings?” Ron asked, looking towards the doors of the
Great Hall.

Harry fumed. “She feels rejected, when that's the last thing she should feel from me.” He
said slowly, putting an annoyed emphasis on each word. “My relationship with Hermione is none of
your business. It's already been a difficult road for us—this isn't helping matters.” His
eyes narrowed. “Stay out of it.” And with that, he huffed out.

Ron and Draco shared a look. “So much for helping out a mate.” Ron said wistfully.


Draco nodded. “I don't think we helped…and he's right pissed, he is.”

Harry found Hermione sitting outside under a tree, staring out at the lake.

“Hey.” He said softly, causing her to jump. She smiled at her tightly.

“Hi.”

Harry didn't know what to say. “Rushed out of there to come stare at some ice?” He said with
a laugh.


Hermione shrugged. “Felt like some fresh air.”

Harry nodded. “So how about that Ron, eh? Got some crazy ideas.”

Hermione forced a laugh. “Yeah, you'd think he'd be able to handle things himself by
now.”

Harry took a seat beside her. “You'd think. He's not used to girls like Luna though.
Makes him nervous.” Harry said, which was technically half true.

“Probably. I wish we could help, but I don't think we can. He should be fine though.”
Hermione said easily.


“He probably will be fine. I'm sure he'll muck it up, in typical Ron Weasley fashion. But
he always rights things in the end.” Harry pointed out before casually saying, “But a little help
is always a nice thing. His idea…I mean, if you're up for it…I think we could pull it off.” He
said, giving her a friendly fake punch in the arm.

Hermione looked at him with a tight smile that didn't meet her eyes. “Pull it off?” She
asked, tilting her head confusedly.

Harry realized he sounded like a prat. “I didn't mean it like it would be a chore. I mean…I
don't think it would be that difficult to pretend. Merlin knows we have some…odd...experience
in that field. And I know if I had to pick a fake date for Valentine's Day, my best girl would
be at the top of the list.” He explained with a wink.

Hermione laughed. “Well, when you oh-so-charmingly put it that way…how can a girl say no to a
fake date proposal to make their friend's disastrous date—you know it's going to
be—dreadfully more comfortable?” She responded cheekily, feeling better now for some unknown
reason.

Harry smiled. “It's a fake date then.”

With a voice of almost disconsolate cheerfulness, she shot back, “It's a fake date.”

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Despite the fact that her “date” to Hogsmeade was a façade, Hermione was still excited—perhaps
for the challenge of pulling it off—as she refused to realize it wasn't much of a challenge.
There had to be some sort of reason behind her excitement.

Hermione was walking down the corridor with Harry, Ron, and Draco. As the passed the girls'
lavatory, Hermione stopped. “You guys go ahead; I'll catch up.” She said. “Gotta stop at the
loo.”

“It's okay. We'll wait.” Draco said with a shrug.

Hermione went into the restroom and headed for an empty stall. After doing her business, and as
she washed her hands, she heard a sniffle coming from the only closed stall. Furrowing her brow,
Hermione stepped closer. “Hello?” She called, concerned. The sniffling stopped suddenly. “Are you
okay?” She asked, stopping right in front of the door. Feeling slightly uncomfortable, Hermione
slowly raised her hand and pushed on the door. Locked.

“Go away!” A disembodied voice demanded from the other side of the door, sounding upset.

Hermione frowned and took a few steps back as she headed for the door. Like they promised, the
three Gryffindor boys were waiting outside casually. She smiled softly. “Um, you guys go ahead.
Someone in here sounds really upset…I'm going to see if I can help.” She said.

The three blokes looked at each other then at their female friend. “Are you sure?” Harry asked,
feeling slightly worried about leaving Hermione alone with someone like this, knowing past
events.

Hermione nodded. “It'll be fine. How about I catch up with you guys in the Common Room?” She
asked before heading back into the lavatory.

As she entered, the sound of crying reached her ears. She walked to the stall she had used and
stood on the toilet seat so she could peer over the wall and into the locked stall. Sitting,
levitating herself in the air with her knees up to her chest and her arms wrapped around her legs,
was Ginny Weasley.

“Ginny?” She asked uncertainly, causing the redhead's head to whip up and meet
Hermione's eyes with her bloodshot blue ones.

“Go away, Granger.” She said angrily.

Hermione bit her lip and stepped off the toilet and walked over to the sinks. Why would Ginny
Weasley being crying in a stall. Her feelings of concern slowly began to vanish as she walked over
to the door, deciding such a mean girl wasn't worth her time. Just as her hand touched the
handle, she heard another pathetic sniffle. Sighing, she felt bad, despite how this particular
Weasley had treated her in the past. The soft side got the better of her, and she turned back
around and stood outside the stall.

“What's wrong?” She asked awkwardly.

“Go away!”

This wasn't going to be easy. “Did someone hurt your?” She asked, clueless.

“Mind your own business, bitch!”

“For Merlin's sake, I'm trying to help you!” Hermione said hatefully before whispering
more to herself, “Though I'm clueless why.”

“Go.”

“You're not making this any easier, you know.” Hermione pointed out bluntly, not bothering
to candy-coat the annoyance in her voice.

“GET OUT!” Ginny cried angrily.

Hermione gritted her teeth as impatience overtook her. Honestly, why was she even bothering?

“Go away!” Ginny said again, heated with Hermione's intrusion on her privacy.

Hermione had had enough.

“You are a complete brat, Ginny Weasley.” She ranted with a cross voice. “You are so
self-absorbed and you care about no one's feelings but your own. Acting like this is only going
to lead you to one place—alone. You go flaunting yourself to all these blokes—eventually your body
is going to be too oversexed and used up for anyone to want.” Hermione spat bitterly.

The stall door suddenly burst open and a shaking Ginny Weasley stood with a trembling wand and
bloodshot eyes.

Hermione didn't go for her wand, instead, she just sneered at the younger Gryffindor.
“You're pathetic. You've shamed your family—”

“Shut up!” Ginny's quivering voice spoke venomously.

“You all but gave them up. And for what? No respect, no—”

“Stop!” Ginny cried, louder this time.

She knew she was being cruel, but she also knew it was the only way she would get anything out
of her. Perhaps she could help. Perhaps not. “I'm surprised you can muster up enough dignity to
even look at yourself in the mirror.” Hermione said with a low voice, eyes staring daggers at the
shuddering girl.

BOOM! Ginny had thrown a curse in Hermione's direction, but missed and hit the sink and
caused it to blow up. Hermione didn't even flinch, and gave a satisfying smirk.

“What's wrong, Ginny? The truth hurt much?” She asked.

Still trembling from her toes to the tip of her raised wand as rage and shame coursed through
her, Ginny fumed and finally slumped to the ground as sobs shook through her body.

Satisfied that Ginny was ready to open up, Hermione went and sat Indian-style in front of her.
She slipped Ginny's wand from her limp grasp and set it aside.

“What's wrong?” She asked directly.

Ginny could only shrug in response. She opened her mouth to speak, but a strangled cry was the
only sound she could make.

Hermione decided she would have to take a softer approach. Despite how gratifying it was to see
someone who had tormented her go to pieces—especially when she was always so proud and
confident—Hermione still held compassion for those who suffer. Clearly, Ginny was suffering.

“Ginny,” She said gently, pushing a hair from the girl's face. “I need you to tell me
what's wrong.”

Suddenly, Ginny jerked away and gave a hollow laugh. “You would never understand.” She insisted
miserably.

With a determined look in her brown eyes, Hermione replied, “Try me.”

**And so there it is. I hope you enjoyed it. And please, let me know. If I get quite a few
people to tell me what they think, I'll try to have the next chapter out asap!!!!!! Which is
what I will try to do anyway…but still…it helps.**

**Good night.**

**
*~Archie~***

-->



25. Hogsmeade
-------------



**I am so excited about this chapter. Um…just read and I just had a birthday (the big 2-0!) so
as a birthday present for me, REVIEW!!! Thanks!**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR:** **Hogsmeade**

*I've been a bad, bad girl for so long
I don't know how to change what went wrong
Daddy's little girl when he went away
What did it teach me? That love leaves

Dear, dear diary, I want to tell my secrets
Cuz you're the only one that I know who'll keep
them
Dear, dear diary, I want to tell my secrets
I know you'll keep them, so this is what I've
done

I've been down every road you could go
I made some bad choices as you know
Seems I've got this whole world cradled in my hands
But it**'**s just like me not to understand (yeah)*

*“Dear Diary” PINK*

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“What's wrong, Ginny? The truth hurt much?” She asked.

Still trembling from her toes to the tip of her raised wand as rage and shame coursed through
her, Ginny fumed and finally slumped to the ground as sobs shook through her small body.

Satisfied that Ginny was ready to open up, Hermione went and sat Indian-style in front of her.
She slipped Ginny's wand from her limp grasp and set it aside.

“What's wrong?” She asked directly. Ginny could only shrug in response. She opened her mouth
to speak, but a strangled cry was the only sound she could make.

Hermione decided she would have to take a softer approach. Despite how gratifying it was to see
someone who had tormented her go to pieces—especially when she was always so proud and
confident—Hermione still held compassion for those who suffered. Clearly, Ginny was suffering.

“Ginny,” She said gently, pushing a hair from the girl's face. “I need you to tell me
what's wrong.”

Suddenly, Ginny jerked away and gave a hollow laugh. “You would never understand.” She insisted
miserably.

With a determined look in her brown eyes, Hermione replied, “Try me.”

Ginny stared at Hermione through teary eyes, with a look of disbelief and confusion. “You
wouldn't understand.” She repeated with gritted teeth.

Hermione remained silent, waiting.

Ginny pushed Hermione away from her. “You wouldn't!” She insisted.

Still, Hermione only gazed at the girl, not speaking.

Ginny's eyes narrowed. “Tell me, Granger, what do your parents do for a living?” She asked
suddenly, rounding on Hermione dangerously.

Hermione furrowed her brow with confusion. “Er…what?” She asked.

Ginny stood and walked over to the sinks and splashed cold water on her face. Hermione stood as
well and offered her a towel. “I saw the *Daily Prophet*. For Muggles, there certainly seemed
to be a lot of expensive decorations. Your dress didn't look too cheap either. By the looks of
it, your family isn't struggling. Now, a simple question: What do your parents do for a
living?”

Still not entirely sure what she was going with this, though she had a nagging suspicion it had
something to do with the Weasley family's financial issues. Finally, she responded slowly,
“They're both dentists.”

Ginny nodded almost knowingly. “Dentists—a rather high-paying career. And how many siblings do
you have?” She pressed on.

“I'm an only child.” Hermione replied without emotion.

The younger Gryffindor didn't look surprised. “Well-off family. No siblings. Probably never
stepped foot into a second-hand shop. Must have been difficult.” Ginny said sarcastically.

Hermione began with, “Well, I can understand that it must have been difficult to grow up with a
bunch of brothers with a…” She chose her next words carefully, “With a limited monetary
supply.”

“Limited monetary supply?” Ginny repeated with a nasty laugh. “You don't have any idea what
it's like.” She snarled.

“At least you had siblings to interact with. And you have, what, six older brothers? To watch
over you? Protect you?” Hermione pointed out.

Ginny scoffed. “You would see that. You would see me as an ungrateful brat. But you don't
know the truth of it. You couldn't understand the sibling rivalry, the tight budget, the
hand-me-downs…” She trailed off.

“Well,” Hermione said evenly, “Let's sit and you can explain this to me.” Hermione sat back
down on the cold stone floor and motioned for a reluctant Ginny to do the same. After a few silent
seconds, Ginny finally gave in and sat down.

“So what's the problem? What won't I understand?” Hermione inquired casually.

Ginny shrugged. “You have anything you could want, it seems. When I was growing up…” She looked
away, almost in—what—shame?

“When you were growing up?” Hermione prodded.

“We had very little money. Even with magic…Well, it didn't make a damn bit of difference.
The Burrow even leaned to one side, and barely looked like a house at all. I'm the youngest,
which means a lot of the clothes I had had been in the family for years—patched and altered—and
even boy's clothes at that. Any dresses I had used to be my Mum's, and were too big. I
rarely got anything new.” Ginny mused sadly.

“Must have been difficult.” Hermione put in unhelpfully.

Ginny nodded. “Everything from clothes to books to toys—all second-hand. Then there was
overshadowing. Two of my brothers have been made Head Boy. The other four were successful on the
house Quidditch team. Fred and George were class clowns and loved by everyone—eventually even
started the best joke shop around. Money isn't a problem for either of them anymore.

“Percy always followed the rules.” She continued. “In my Mum's eyes, he could do no wrong.
He even did excellent on in O.W.L.S. and N.E.W.T.S. Even Bill and Charlie were successful for
Merlin's sake!” Ginny cried out bitterly before rounding on Hermione's own friend. “And
finally, there's Ron. Well, somehow through all his mistakes and being a total prat, even he
manages to charm Mum and Dad. It helps that he's best mates with Harry Potter—with my parents
being friends with his parents. `Aw, the two of them are inseparable—grew up together and have been
best mates.'” Ginny mimicked her mother resentfully.

Hermione listened as Ginny vented vehemently. She could tell the young girl had issues with
jealously and individualism.

“Which leaves me. I used to be Mummy's little girl, but somehow, as my brothers grew up and
became successful and started families of their own…I wasn't the youngest. I may as well have
been just another son.”

“So this is what molded you into who you are today?” Hermione asked carefully, trying not to
sound offensive. “You just rebelled against your family?”

“When I came to Hogwarts, well, I was…made fun of, *a lot*. People joked nastily about how
shabby my clothes were, and teased me about sometimes wearing boy clothes—though I resorted to that
only when I absolutely had to. It was difficult. It got to me. I wanted the girlie clothes, and
be…well, feminine. I didn't want to be a tomboy. I wanted the boys' attention. But in the
rags I had to wear…I was lucky to have a skirt for the school uniform. Somewhere along the line, I
grew up. I got curves. I noticed boys noticing me when I wore a shirt that was from last year and a
bit tight.” Ginny confessed with a look that was half-mischievous, half disgusted. “Then I got my
first real boyfriend. He was two years above me. I don't need to tell you what was on a
seventeen year old boy's mind.” Ginny said with a cold laugh before coming to a halt in her
story.

“I take it you two…” Hermione trailed off, unsure of how to finish that sentence.

“Had sex?” Ginny quipped shrewdly as Hermione shrugged. “I didn't want to. Everything was so
new to me and he was so experienced. But he pressured me, told me if I loved him, I'd let him
love me back. I had to show him. So I did. I knew it was wrong, but for the first time I felt in
control—though I clearly wasn't. He was. He'd buy me things so I felt like I owed it to
him. Then I caught him with another girl. I was brokenhearted. But…I realized I had a few things
that I had been wanting. He had gotten me some cute clothes to wear, to pay for the sex, almost. So
when the next bloke came along…well, you can imagine. It didn't take long for me to learn how
to be good. How to make a man want me. I'd use them, and they'd use me. My family
didn't approve of my `*promiscuity'*,” Ginny revealed, using air quotation marks. “But
my family wasn't there for me like these boys were. They didn't listen to me, and looked at
me like I was just another child, or just another sibling. These boys…they saw me as a sexy woman.
A lover.”

“But you didn't want them? Not really?” Hermione asked, trying to piece together what she
was saying because she was contradicting herself half the time.

Ginny made an impatient noise. “I dunno! At first, I wanted a boyfriend. Not for the sex, but
just…for the acceptance. The love. But that didn't turn out the way it was supposed to. I
mean,” She shivered, “He all but raped me to have sex, you know? I didn't really want to, but I
did just because he kept pressuring me. I was too young. Then, our relationship became more of a
business deal. When he cheated, yes, I was hurt real bad. But truth be told, it didn't last. I
realized how disgusting he was. But…he got what he wanted, and so did I. So I got over it. I moved
on. Bloke Number Two came along. Didn't last long. I learned a little more from each bloke.
I'm not saying I didn't want any of them—Merlin knows I did. I'm just saying...that I
dunno what I'm trying to say, I guess. I turned into this person who I loved and hated.
Sometimes I felt proud, sometimes I felt disgusted. I even went out with Neville Longbottom once,
just because I knew he wasn't looking for sex. But then Darren—my ex at the time—wanted me and
I went to him, just like I always do. Blew Longbottom off.” Ginny saw wistfully. “He wasn't
even that bad of a bloke, you know? Might have been good for me.”

Hermione nodded. Clearly, Ginny didn't know what was going on in her life, or what she even
wanted. It seemed like she used these guys just as much as they used her. However, it also appeared
that she was disgusted with herself, and wanted a way out.

A few minutes of silence passed as the two girls sat there on the floor, pondering. Hermione
noticed Ginny had started to silently sob. Feeling completely disconnected to the girl even more,
Hermione could only watch with sympathy. This girl hadn't been the nicest to her, but Hermione
couldn't blame her. She was confused, and lost. She just needed help. Her life had turned her
that way.

Trying to sound comforting, Hermione slowly said, “Well, maybe you can try to change then. You
obviously aren't happy with your life. You don't need a guy at the moment. Just restart.”
She offered.

Ginny shook her head. “There's more.”

Hermione raised her head, waiting.

Ginny's eyes were cast downward. “I think I might be pregnant.”

Hermione gasped. “Are you sure?” She asked. This girl was only sixteen!

Ginny shrugged. “I missed my period. Maybe. I dunno. I have an irregular period and
well…it's been too long. And there have been a few times in the last few months where I think I
could have gotten pregnant.” The young girl confessed guiltily.

Hermione bit her lip, blown away. “Well, I suppose the best thing to do is find out for sure.
Have you gone to Madam Pomfrey?” She asked.

Ginny shook her head. “I'm too scared. I'm too embarrassed to ask. I'm too scared
for find out for sure.”

“Ginny, ignoring a baby isn't going to make it go away. You need to find out. I'm sure
Madam Pomfrey has a test of some sort. Muggles have them. I'm sure we have *something*
here.” Hermione insisted in a partial panic. She was not ready to get into something like this. At
all.

Ginny's sobs only worsened. “I can't do this. Finding out will make it real.”

“It's real either way, Ginny Weasley!” Hermione half screamed, getting angry. She could
understand Ginny's reaction. Stupid girl. She shouldn't be having sex if she can't
handle the consequences.

“This is why you should keep your legs closed!” Hermione hissed.

Ginny could only slump against the wall in remorse.

Realizing she was losing her temper, Hermione suddenly withdrew and calmed herself. Cooling off
and regaining her lost composure, Hermione began again. “It is very important that you find out as
soon as possible. Go to Madam Pomfrey.” Hermione mentored.

Ginny shook her head once more in shame. “If my family found out…” She gave a sharp, cold laugh.
“Actually, I don't know if they would be surprised or not.”

Hermione sighed. Why did she have to be the one who stumbled in here? Why was she even caring?
Because it's the right thing to do. She's Ron's sister. And she herself holds
compassion for people. *Compassion*, she reminded herself.

As she internally battled what was easy and what was right, Hermione found words coming from her
mouth that she hadn't even had the chance to process, “I'll go talk to Madam Pomfrey and
ask about getting a test of some sort. And if they don't have one, I'll get a Muggle
one…somehow.”

Ginny looked up miserably. “Why are you helping me?” She asked, befuddled.

Hermione shrugged. “I'm asking myself the same. Just…I dunno. Gain some composure or
something. I'll go see about it sometime today and meet up with you later. Please tell me you
know who the potential father is?” Hermione asked earnestly.

Standing, Ginny gave a nod. Relieved, Hermione headed for the door. “Oh, and Gr—Hermione?” Ginny
called, causing Hermione to halt. “Can you keep this private? Especially from Ron? And Harry?”

“Your secret is safe.” Hermione confirmed before walking out. Hermione briskly walked through
the corridors and found herself outside the Hospital Wing. She closed her eyes and pinched the
bridge of her nose. Oh why did she have compassion for people?

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*You got up out of bed
You said you had a lot of work to do
But I heard the rest in my head
And almost immediately I felt sorry
Cause I didn't think this would happen again
No matter what I could do or say
Just that I didn't think this would happen again
With or without my best intentions

And I want a boyfriend
I want a boyfriend
I want all that stupid old shit like letters and sodas
Letters and sodas*

*“Fuck And Run” Liz Phair*

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Feeling self-conscious, Hermione walked to Madam Pomfrey's office and gave a few quick taps
on the door, which swung open. Hermione walked in to see the school's Healer sitting her
office, pouring over some files.

She looked up at Hermione expectantly, “Yes?”

Unsure of how to go about asking, Hermione figured being direct was the best way. “I have a
question, Madam Pomfrey.” She said, and the Healer gestured the empty chair in front of her in
response.

“I have a friend, well, I suppose it would be more of an acquaintance perhaps—doesn't
matter—” Hermione was getting off subject, “A girl who thinks she might possibly be…pregnant. I
know Muggles have pee tests or something, and I suppose I was wondering if you had…something…so she
could find out for sure?” Hermione asked uncomfortably.

Madam Pomfrey half-glared at Hermione with narrowing beady eyes in an almost accusing way. “A
friend?” She asked, suspicious.

“More of an acquaintance.” Hermione corrected. “In all honesty, I can't stand the girl. But
I found her crying and she told me her life story—and to make an even longer story short—she things
some bloke may have gotten her pregnant. She's too ashamed to come in here herself, and well,
let's just say I've been damning my compassion for people ever since I started walking over
here.” Hermione said with a smile, hoping her joking nature would win the woman over or at least
save her from the third degree. After all, it wasn't her promiscuity in question.

The Healer sighed. “When did this student think she had become pregnant? Recently?” She
asked.

Hermione shrugged. “Um…she might have said something about the last few months. I'm not
sure. Does that matter?”

“If the intercourse had occurred while at Hogwarts—something rather disrespectful if you ask
me—then she is not pregnant. Let's just say precautions have been in place for many hundreds of
years against such things. Wards are up so no student can get impregnated while on Hogwarts ground.
However, it does not protect them once they go home for the summer holidays. So if it has been
recently, then no, she is not pregnant. Otherwise, she is six months pregnant and she would know
for sure.” Madam Pomfrey told Hermione.

Hermione nodded. “I see. Well, I'm doubting she is six months pregnant. This should be good
news. However, I would not like to divulge this information to her—for purposes of keeping her from
having unprotected sex even more—so is there any sort of fake test I can get? Just to scare her a
bit? She's certainly too young to handle this.” Hermione asked.

The Healer almost cracked a smile before standing and going over to some drawers. She pulled out
a standard Muggle pregnancy test and handed the box to Hermione. “You're a sharp one.”

Hermione smiled. “Thank you, and,” Gesturing towards the EPT in her hand, “Thank you.” And with
that, Hermione easily slipped the small box in her robes and headed towards the Gryffindor Common
Room.

Harry was the first to greet her in the Common Room. “About bloody time!” He said. “Is
everything okay?” He asked, concerned.

Hermione smiled. “Everything is fine. Sorry I took so long.”

“What was wrong?” Draco asked lazily, thumbing through a magazine.

“Um, just feminine issues, that's all.” Hermione said, scanning the room for the
redhead.

“Did some girl need help getting her knickers off?” He asked with a smirk, turning the page.
“That could have been hot.”

Hermione threw a pillow at him.

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Ginny didn't manage to corner Hermione until dinner came around. While walking down the
corridor, she came up and asked Hermione if she could have a word. Ignoring the looks both girls
had gotten from the blokes, Hermione shooed them down the corridor and led Ginny to the nearest
loo.

“I hope you have to pee.” She said, opening the box and handing Ginny the stick, which Ginny
stared at blankly. “Go pee on the stick.” Hermione instructed.

“What?” Ginny asked, confused.

“Oh just go piss on it already!”

A few awkward minutes later, Ginny emerged from the stall with a dripping stick. She offered it
to Hermione.

“Well I'm not holding it.” Hermione said with a laugh. “Now we wait three minutes. If a
minus sign pops up, you're negative. If it's a plus, then…well, start knitting baby
booties.”

Ginny nodded.

“I can't believe I got myself in this mess.” Ginny cried dropping her face in her hands.

“Well, perhaps you should be a little more careful. Why are you putting yourself through this
anyway? Find a good bloke and stick with it. Or just don't find one at all.” Hermione
advised.

Ginny shrugged. “No good guys are attracted to me. I need…I need a bloke like Harry or
something. I know he would make a great boyfriend.”

Hermione could almost imagine the steam coming from her ears. “Harry?” She echoed.

Ginny nodded. “Yeah, he's a great guy. And I know he wouldn't try to use me for
sex.”

Hermione toyed with the idea of letting Ginny know that she and Harry just so happened to be
going to a date on Valentine's Day. “Hm, well maybe there's some other guy. What about
Neville? You said you went out with him once?” She asked, trying to steer Ginny's desires away
from her best friend.

“Maybe.” Ginny said with a sigh.

“How about you ask him to Hogsmeade on Valentine's Day?” Hermione asked, getting an
idea.

Ginny scoffed. “Right.”

Hermione chose her words carefully, trying to be mysterious, but not like she was trying to make
something of it. “Well…Harry and I are going on a double date with Ron and Luna on Valentine's
Day…perhaps if you wanted to make it a triple date, we may be able to arrange that. I know we are
going to meet up at the Three Broomsticks for drinks, and then maybe hang out a bit but then going
our separate ways so…” Hermione trailed off.

Ginny eyes slightly widened. “Oh. You are going with Harry?” She asked.

Hermione nodded.

“Lucky. I wasn't trying to some on to him a minute ago by the way…I just meant a guy like
Harry, that's all. I doubt Neville will want to go out with me after I blew him off last time.”
Ginny said wistfully.

Relieved, Hermione smiled brightly. “I'll talk to him. Anyway, it should be time now.
What's the verdict?”

Ginny picked the stick up and glanced down. For a moment, her face was unreadable before she
broke into a grin. “Talk about lucky!” She said, smiling widely. “Negative!”

Hermione smiled and acted surprised. “Well, looks like you get a second chance. If you want me
to talk to Neville, I will. But if I do, and you shit on him…we'll we will have issues because
he is a good bloke.” Hermione warned.

Ginny nodded. “I won't, I promise. I…I want to turn a new leaf, Hermione, I really do. I
hate who I've become. I've done nothing but bring shame to my family. My brothers can
barely look at me. I really want to change. I know I've been a bit of a…” Ginny trailed off,
searching for the right word.

“Slaggly bitch.” Hermione put in.

Ginny reddened but realized she had that shot coming. “A slaggly bitch, but I really am sorry.
You've helped me more today than any of my other friends had in years. Can we be friends?”
Ginny asked gingerly, throwing the EPT away.

Hermione crossed her arms. “If you can get your act together, I'm sure we can be good
friends. Just prove it.”

Ginny nodded as she straightened her short skirt.

“But if we're going to be friends...” Hermione waved her wand, causing Ginny's revealing
clothes to alter themselves. Her jean skirt suddenly lengthened to a pair a jeans, and her tight
top loosened and covered her cleavage as the sleeves grew to her wrists. Hermione smiled at her
handy work as Ginny stood in front of her in a long-sleeved, loose shirt and a pair of jeans. “Put
some clothes on girl, it's the middle of February.” Ginny tugged at her clothes a gently before
giving her a smile. Hermione couldn't help but laugh as Ginny suddenly looked two years
younger.

The two wordlessly made their way to the Great Hall and Ginny followed Hermione towards Harry,
Ron, and Draco.

“Hi. Miss me?” Hermione greeted them.

Harry smiled, “Of course we—” His voice faltered as he caught sight of Ginny sitting down on the
other side of Hermione. “Did.” He finished, puzzled.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I bet. Pass the potatoes please, Ronald?” Hermione asked, trying to
act as casual as she could.

The three boys looked from each other to their newcomer. “Hi Ginny.” Harry greeted as he felt
Hermione kicked him from under the table. After another two kicks, Ginny got a greeting from Ron
and Draco.

“Ginny.” Draco said with a nod.

“Hey there, little sister.” Ron said, nursing his shin.

“Hi guys.” Ginny greeted back.

“I'll be right back.” Hermione said before standing and wandering over the empty seat next
to Neville.

“What's she doing?” Harry asked as she watching Hermione smile and laugh with Neville
Longbottom.

Ginny couldn't help but smile at Harry's concern. “Talking to Neville.” She said
unhelpfully.

Harry gave a tight smile. “I can see that much, thanks.”

A few minutes later, Hermione returned. “Neville is very excited for you date, Ginny.”

Ginny smiled. “Really? Even after last time?”

Hermione nodded as she turned to Harry. “Hi.” She said softly with a smile.

Harry grinned back. “Hey you.” He half-whispered.

“Ginny and Neville will be joining us at Hogsmeade. I hope that's okay?” Hermione announced
to Harry and Ron, who both nodded in agreement.

“About time you date someone worth something.” Ron chimed in.

“I could say the same for you.” Ginny shot back.

“Touché, little sister, touché.”

00000000000

Later that night, Harry and Hermione managed to get a few minutes alone. Hermione knew from his
curious looks he wanted to know what in the bloody hell was going on. They sat out on the Quidditch
Pitch, enjoying the cold air on their flustered faces from yet another broom ride.

“Now would you mind telling me what's this is all about? Ginny? Really?” He asked, setting
down his broomstick.

“She isn't so bad. She's just been…misunderstood.” Hermione said with a shrug.

“Misunderstood? She's treated her family like shit. And you. Now, suddenly you're going
off with her and bringing her to dinner with us? And then inviting her on our date?” Harry asked
uneasily. “She's bad news.”

Hermione laughed. “Calm down. She's not contaminated.”

“She might be!” He insisted.

Hermione smiled at his antics. “We talked and let's just say she's ready to turn a new
leaf. Can we leave it at that, and just play nice?” Hermione asked.

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*She was so adored by everyone
When it came to looks she was next to none
But loved partying and having too much fun
Then she hooked up with the wrong someone
And he promised everything under the sun
And it seems to me
She's a causality of all the pressure
That he put on her
And now we've lost her for good
It's such a shame shame shame
That our homecoming queen
Was a lot like you and a lot like me
And she never walked on water
Cause no one really saw her
It's such a shame shame shame
That our homecoming queen
Had a lot to prove and so many to please
She's just somebody's daughter
Just looking for somebody to love her*

*“Homecoming Queen” HINDER*

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Harry sighed dramatically. “Fine.”

“Our date? You certainly seem to get all defensive about someone intruding.” She said with a
grin.

“Well, it's important that we are there for Ron, you know. Can't let a best mate down.”
He said, standing and offering her his hand.

“Technically,” She said, taking his offered hand and letting him spin her around in the snow as
if began to fall heavily. “Ron needed someone in his corner to be there. Who better than his own
blood? With Ginny and Neville there, I don't think we have any more obligated duties and
aren't needed.” She pointed out.

Harry smiled and pulled her close, their fingers intertwined. “I think we better go, just for
good measure.”

“I just think you want to go on a date with me, Harry James Potter.” Hermione openly flirted,
surprising even herself.

“Oh really? Someone's got a big head.” Harry teased.

“Or someone is just speaking the truth.”

Harry bent down and picked Hermione up and carried her over to a large pile of snow before
dropping her in it. “Mmmm hmmm.” He responded, throwing a snowball at her.

Hermione shielded herself and lay down in the snow, and made a snow angel. Harry laid down so
his feet were against hers.

“Let's do the bicycle!” She shrieked happily.

Harry laughed and sat up on his elbows. “The what?”

Hermione initiated the old childhood game. “My cousin and I used to do it all the time.” She
said as they began to play the game. Their coordination was off and they were having trouble,
especially with the stiffness the cold caused, but it was fun nonetheless.

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*I gotta get to you cause you sure been gettin' to me
Gotta find a way to get to your heart to sweep you off your feet
I'll wrap you up, in my love, cover you with kisses so sweet
I gotta get to you cause you sure been gettin' to me

I'll win you over, over and over again
I'm gettin closer, closer than I ever been*

*“Gotta Get To You” GEORGE STRAIT*

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Hermione stared at her mirror. She was in a towel and had just gotten out of the shower. She
wondered vaguely why both Ginny and Luna had invited themselves into her room to get ready for this
date of theirs. Why did they all have to get ready together anyhow? Whether she liked it or not,
both girls were going to show up any minute to do hair and makeup and clothes and, well, probably
anything else they can think up. Hermione could understand where they were coming from. They were
going on a real date. Her and Harry were just going for the others. She was excited, but still,
didn't feel the need to put in this much effort.

This last week had gone by rather quickly. Ginny had proved to be a decent friend, and Hermione
almost enjoyed her company. The boys were still getting used to this new Ginny Weasley, which Ginny
could sense and often left once the boys joined them.

She suddenly heard a light tapping sound, and looked over to see Hedwig at her window. She
rushed over to open it and let the owl in. It was carrying a small parcel with an envelope that had
her name on it in Harry's handwriting. She opened the envelope and pulled out a piece of
heart-shaped parchment: **Be** **my Valentine? Love, Harry** **P.S. Will you go on a date
with me** **for real****?** Hermione smiled and unwrapped the long parcel and pulled out a
bright red rose. Her smile widened as she laid both gifts on her bedside table.

He wanted to go on a date for real? Before she let herself go into over-analyze mode, she opened
her drawer and pulled out a card she had made for Harry. She tore a piece of paper from a notebook
and quickly scrawled her answer before sending it off with Hedwig.

Excitement began to take hold as she looked from her bedside table to herself in the mirror once
more. She was already processing different outfits and how she could wear her hair.

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*I've been awake for a while now
You've got me feelin' like a child now
'Cause every time I see your bubbly face
I get the tinglies in a silly place

They start in my toes
Makes me crinkle my nose
Wherever it goes
I always know
That you make me smile
Please stay for a while now
Just take your time
Wherever you go

The rain is falling on my window pane
But we are hiding in a safer place
Under covers staying safe and warm
You give me feelings that I adore*

*“Bubbly” Colbie Calliat*

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Harry, Ron, and Draco were all sitting at the table in the Great Hall and noticed a large part
of the female population missing. “Wow, what a day, huh?” Ron said, shaking his head. “It's
Valentine's Day and suddenly every girl goes even more nutters than before.”

Harry and Draco shrugged. As the morning post flew down from above, Harry spotted Hedwig flying
towards him with a letter that read his name. He smiled and offered the owl a piece of bacon while
he opened the envelope, which housed a card made by Hermione. He smiled read the card a few times
before standing.

“Where are you going?” Ron asked with a mouthful of food.

Harry twirled around and gave a grin. “I've got a date.”

Ron quickly shoveled in a few more bites, stood, and started after him before turning and
putting a few biscuits in his pockets and turning back around. He turned back around once more and
grabbed one more biscuit. “Actually, you know what, I better just—” He began to load his plate with
everything in sight before grabbing that and running out of the Great Hall. “Wait up! I've got
a date too!” He yelled Harry. “Oh shit, I forgot a fork.” He muttered.

0000000000000000000000000

Harry couldn't explain it. He felt a certain way about Hermione. Did he like her? He
didn't know. He did know he loved spending time with her. And when he was looking for that rose
and charming it so it would never fade or die, something came over him. He was writing the note,
and before he knew it, the postscript was there and the letter was gone. And now he was here in his
dormitory, fretting over what to wear and if he needed to shave.

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Neither Luna nor Ginny proved to be very good about helping with getting ready. Luna's style
was too far out there, and Ginny's…well Hermione was doing some altering of hers already.

“You aren't wearing that.” Hermione said bossily, throwing yet another outfit of Ginny's
back down on her bed.

Ginny sighed. “Well what would you have me wear?”

Soon, Hermione's room was cluttered with outfits and makeup. They were laughing and trying
crazy outfits on. Hermione had her camera out, and was reminded of the time during Christmas break
with Jenna. Jenna would know exactly what to wear.

Finally, after what felt like hours though was only a little over one, the girls were all ready.
Luna had settled on a long Bohemian style skirt with a white long-sleeved shirt with an orange
shirt over it and flip-flops. When Hermione point out there was snow on the ground, the girl
didn't seem the least bit phased as she put on her famous radish earrings and necklace made
from butterbeer caps. Hermione finally found an appropriate outfit in Ginny collection: a jean
skirt with black leggings underneath and a nice sweater and trainers. As for herself, as Hermione
looked in the mirror, she saw that she had one a pair on simple jeans, a gray shirt with a pink
zip-up jacket. Ginny had let her borrow her hoop earrings. Hermione looked at her reflection. She
looked nice, she decided.

As the girls stood in the mirror to look at themselves, Hermione stowed away and went over to
her bedside table where Harry note lay. She read it again and couldn't help but smile.

This was going to be interesting.

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Nervousness crept into both Harry and Hermione's stomachs as the six of them met in the
Gryffindor Common Room. Both Neville and Ron had flowers for each other their dates. Harry gave
Hermione a paper flower he had made, causing Hermione to laugh. “You can't ever just be
traditional, can you?” She teased.

“Tell me when to stop, and I'll be as traditional as you want me to.” Harry greeted
back.

Hermione shrugged. “Your oddness *is* rather endearing.” Suddenly, her face grew serious.
“Did you really mean what you said in your note?”

“About making this a real date?” Harry asked.

Hermione nodded.

“Did you really mean what you replied back with in your card?” He fired back.

“About me saying I'd love to?”

It was Harry's turn to nod.

“I want to if you want to.” Hermione admitted.

Harry smiled and held out his hand out for her to take.

Their little exchange didn't go unnoticed. Ron and Draco both shared a knowing look. Even
Luna, Ginny, and Neville noticed something change.

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*I* *packed a cooler and a change of clothes
Let's jump in, see how far it goes
You got my heart in your daddy's boat
We've got all night to make it float

We could sit on the shore
We could just be friends
Or we could jump in

The whole world could change in a minute
Just one kiss could stop it spinning
We could think it through
But I don't want to, if you don't want to

We could keep things just the same
Leave here the way we came
with nothing to lose
But I don't want to, if you don't want to*

*“Want To” SUGARLAND*

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As the eight of them made their way to Hogsmeade, all the teens laughed loudly and spirits were
high. For Harry, going to Hogsmeade was like visiting a fair or carnival that came into town once
every year. It was all the same, but still, there was something new and exciting every time. Right
now, with Hermione by his side and his hormones and emotions going delightfully mad, he
couldn't ask to be in a better mood. Draco and Amanda left them once they made their way into
the small town, leaving the six to figure out what to do.

Ron suggested they hit the Three Broomsticks, and so that was first on the list. Harry
couldn't remember having more fun at Hogsmeade that what he was having right now, except
perhaps when he had given Hermione a midnight tour. Ron was being as charming as ever, which
wasn't necessary because it was already obvious Luna was head of heels for the redhead already.
And if Harry wasn't mistaken, his friend was quite taken with the blonde Ravenclaw as well. As
for Neville and Ginny, the two looked as if they were complete novices on a date, which, as
Hermione pointed out, perhaps they were.

Surprisingly, there wasn't any awkward feelings between Harry and Hermione. They had both
been worried that perhaps by calling this an official date, there would be an ocean between the
two. But there wasn't. For once, Hermione put her mind out of control and instead just listened
to her instincts. She was flirtatious and happy. She felt like a whole different person.

After spending an hour of so at the Three Broomsticks, Harry said something about taking off. He
and Hermione wanted to go to Honeydukes, while Ron and Luna wanted to stop by the Zonko's to
“check out the competition” as Ron put it.

Nervously, Ginny pulled Hermione aside. “You're leaving us!?” She hissed.

“Calm down, Ginny. What's wrong?” She asked.

“What if I mess this up? You're supposed to make sure I don't do that!” Ginny reminded
her.

Hermione laughed. “Just have fun. Don't try to be too romantic or sexy or anything. You guys
are just friends. Remember that. Just…get to know each other!” Hermione said before meeting Harry
up at the cash register, where he was paying for their drinks.

“Here, let me get mine.” Hermione said, pulling out her purse.

“You money is no good here.” Harry assured her before offering her his arm and the two strolled
out onto the street.

Shop after shop, place after place, the two went to see them all. Hermione bought Harry a shirt
at Gladrags, and to return the favor, he bought Hermione her first quill (as she had refused to use
them) from Scrivenshaft's Quill shop with ink that changed color as your wrote.

“Promise me you'll use this?” Harry asked before he bought it.

“Of course I will!” Hermione squealed.

“But you haven't used a quill all year.” He countered.


Hermione took the quill from him and smiled. “This one has an everlasting flow of colorful ink. If
I had one of these, I would have used one.”

Harry laughed before paying for it.

The two stopped by Madam Puddifoots Tea Shop, where they caught Draco and Amanda snogging over a
cup of tea. They laughed and took the mickey out of half of the customers in there until finally,
Madam Puddifoot herself came over to their table and told them they were ruining the “vibe” of her
establishment, and not-so-politely asked them to leave.

“Honestly, she likes to sit there and watch teens snog each other. If you ask me, the horny old
lady needs to learn a thing or two about the `vibe' she is giving out.” Harry snorted as they
were all but pushed from the doors.

Minutes or perhaps even hours later—time seemed to fly by—the two could be found sitting in
front of the Shrieking Shack before Harry asked if she wanted to head back to the Castle and
perhaps watch the sunset by the lake.

The trip back to Hogwarts was a rather short one. The two were in a carriage and looked at all
the pictures they had taken today. Pictures of the group from the pub, pictures from Gladrags and
Zonko's Joke Shop. They had even taken secret pictures of Draco and Amanda, which may have been
one of the ways they were ruining the “vibe” at Madam Puddifoots.

As they made their way to their tree under by the lake, they were silent.

Harry suddenly pulled a miniature broomstick from his pocket and charmed it to its full
size.

Hermione laughed. “I think you're getting a little too comfortable with these broom rides,
Harry Potter.” Hermione said.

“Oh just get on, you know you want to.” He shot back.

Hermione hopping in front. “I'm driving.” And with that, they flew off.

A thought kept creeping into Hermione mind, though she pushed it away every time. Today had been
absolutely perfect. She didn't want to ruin it. But every time she caught sight of the
breathtaking sunset, she got an idea. Suddenly, before she could stop herself, she halted the
broomstick in midair, right in front of the sunset.

Harry looked puzzled. “What are you doing?” He asked.

Hermione smiled mischievously. “I just thought this would be a nice backdrop for a picture.” She
responded innocently, pulling out her camera.

Before she could say what she was wanting to, what she had planned in her head to sound flirty
and perfect, she chickened out and went ahead and took a regular picture of the two of them in
front of the sunset. Afterwards, she still didn't move the broom.

“Hermione?” Harry asked slowly?

“Um, maybe we can take another picture.” Hermione said, trying to sound flirty but for the first
time that day, her cockiness eluded her.

Almost as if reading her mind, Harry leaned forward and cupped her face with one of his hands.
After several seconds, he began to slowly lean even more into her until his lips were just above
hers, giving her the chance to say no.

“Would it be too cliché for me to kiss you on Valentine's Day?” Harry asked, smiling.

Instead of replying, Hermione used one hand to keep her balance, while using the other snake
itself around Harry neck and bridging the space between their lips. Her eyes flutter closed as did
his. Her lips parted ever so slightly, inviting Harry to deepen the kiss.

She felt Harry take her camera from her hand and didn't need to open her eyes to know he was
stealing her idea. A quick flash later confirmed it and she smiled into the kiss.

After a few seconds, they parted, dazed.

“Suddenly I don't feel like I have enough control over my head that I don't feel safe
flying us around anymore.” Hermione said, breathless.

Harry smiled and easily brought them to a landing at their tree. They both went over and sat
against the tree in the snow and watched the remaining of the sunset, fingers intertwined.

*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0*0

*I can't fight this feeling any longer.
And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow.
What started out as friendship,
Has grown stronger.
I only wish I had the strength to let it show.

I tell myself that I can't hold out forever.
I said there is no reason for my fear.
Cause I feel so secure when we're together.
You give my life direction,
You make everything so clear.

And even as I wander,
I'm keeping you in sight.
You're a candle in the window,
On a cold, dark winter's night.
And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might.

And I can't fight this feeling anymore.
I've forgotten what I started fighting for.
It's time to bring this ship into the shore,
And throw away the oars, forever.

Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore.
I've forgotten what I started fighting for.
And if I have to crawl upon the floor,
Come crashing through your door,
Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore.

My life has been such a whirlwind since I saw you.
I've been running round in circles in my mind.
And it always seems that I'm following you, girl,
Cause you take me to the pla**ces,
That alone I'd never find.*

*“Can't Fight This Feeling” REO SPEEDWAGON*

**WOW!** **I can almost hear the rains of FINALL FINALLY FINALLY. HAHA.** **A lot to take
in. Please review!!!! For my birthday last week!**

**I hope you liked it!**

**Thanks!**

**Until Next Time,**

***~Archie~***

-->



26. Heads We Will; Tails We'll Try Again
----------------------------------------



**Well, here's the new chapter. I want to first state that for the record, I retract my “It
Wasn't Me” story…I have now (finally) read books 6 and 7…and yes, the woman is a bloody genius!
Save the bits about some people getting killed for pointless reasons, some that had died who did
not get proper recognition, skimming over some other bits—and finally, the ships of course—the
books were amazing. I am actually rereading through the whole series at the moment, which is why it
has taken me so long to write. Any time I would have had time to write I was reading so…yeah, haha.
However, I am almost done with OotP so not long now, eh? Well, enjoy the chapter!**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE:** **Heads We Will; Tails We'll Try Again**

*Everything changes but beauty remains
Something so tender, I can't explain
Well, I may be dreaming but till I awake
Can't we make this dream last forever
And I'll cherish all the love we share

A moment like this
Some people wait a lifetime for a moment like this
Some people search forever for that one special kiss
Oh, I can't believe it's happening to me
Some people wait a lifetime for a moment like this

Could this be the greatest love of all
I wanna know that you will catch me when I fall
So let me tell you this
Some people wait a lifetime for a moment like this*

*“A Moment Like This” KELLY CLARKSON*

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Hermione's mind buzzed as she and Harry walked slowly back to the castle, a light silence
between the two. She had so many concerns and questions about what all this meant and whether or
not it was even a good idea. Before she knew it, they were standing in front of the Portrait Hole
and Harry was gesturing for her to go in before him. She hadn't even remembered making the
journey there.

One thing Hermione did know was that somehow, today had been *perfect*. She also knew her
stupid mouth had often ruined such things (as well as Harry's), so just as Harry opened his
mouth to speak, Hermione quickly put a finger over his lips.

“Don't say anything.” She said quickly, drawing back her hand, her big brown eyes full of
mischief.

Harry smiled, “Hermione, today has been brilliantly amazing—” He began.

Hermione cut him off. “Which is why you can't say anything. Neither can I.” She continued,
half-whispering. “Today was perfect. Let's not ruin it. In fact, I'm going to go to
bed—right now, so nothing can be said to ruin such a great day. We'll deal with it later.”
Hermione spoke earnestly, causing Harry to laugh.

“Right now? It's only eight.” He replied, looking at his wristwatch.

Hermione backed away towards the direction of the staircases that led up to the dormitories with
a chuckling Harry slowly following her.

“Are you *really* going to bed?” Harry asked impishly.

Hermione shrugged as she began to edge behind the door leading to the Girls' Staircase.

Harry looked around before quickly closing the distance between the two and joining her in the
little foyer leading to the dormitories, away from the crowd of Gryffindors. They silently stared
at each other for a few seconds before Harry reached out a hand and eased Hermione from behind the
door and closer to him. His hand gently made its way under her chin, caressing it adoringly.
Hermione closed her eyes as Harry gradually lowered his lips to hers for a second time that
evening. Hermione's hands disappeared somewhere in his hair as his wrapped around her middle,
pulling her even closer.

After a few seconds of kissing, Hermione gently pulled away and stepped out of his embrace.
“Good night, Harry Potter,” she said with an affectionate smile before departing.

Harry's grin widened as he leaned against the stone wall, woozy.

He stood there for several seconds before grabbing his Firebolt that he had left leaning against
the wall and headed up to his own empty dormitory.

Once he changed into a pair of sweats and sat down onto his bed, Harry allowed his true
excitement to shine through. He had just kissed Hermione. For real. On a date. The smile on his
face only broadened. He was too happy to even think about falling asleep. He suddenly stood and
grabbed a hoodie before hopping on his broomstick and whizzing out of the window. He made several
dives and loops, “Woohoo's” and “Oh yeah's” escaping his lips at high volumes. Exuberance
flooded through his body.

After a few minutes more of silly flying stunts, Harry returned to his dorm in high spirits. He
put his broom in its case and stared at his bed slyly. After making sure that he was in fact alone,
Harry grabbed his guitar from its protective case and hopped carelessly onto his bed and began
playing and singing loudly the first song that popped into his head, jumping up and down in rhythm
to his song, “*Since the moment I spotted you, like walking `round with little wings on* *my
shoes…m**y stomach's filled with the butterflies…And it's alright, bouncing round from
cloud to cloud, I got the feeling like I'm never gonna come down**…If I said I didn't
like it then you know I'd liieeeddd.*”

He jumped off his bed onto the floor and continued to play enthusiastically, *“Oh…Every time I
try to talk to you, I get tongue-tied…..turns out* *that* *everything I say to you comes
out wrong and never comes out riiighht..So I'll say why don't you and I get together
an' take on the world, and be together forever! Heads we* *will, tails we'll*
*try again…So I say why don't you and I hold each other, fly to the moon and straight on to
Heaven…**`**Cause without you they're never gonna let me in.”* He sang, dancing
around the room before jumping back on his bed and continued to sing, *“When's this fever
gonna break?...I think I've handled more than any man can take—I'm like a love-sick puppy
chasing you around…And it's alright, bouncing round* *from* *cloud to*
*cloud**, I got the feeling like I'm never gonna come down…if I said I* *didn't
like it then you'd know I'd* *liieeeddd.”*

Harry had his back to the door, jumping up and down on his bed and playing his guitar. He
didn't see the door silently open or Ron and Draco sneak wordlessly into the room, fighting to
stifle their laughter.

*“Da da* *da da… `**Cause without you...”* Harry half-sang, half-hummed the
chorus*. “Slowly I begin to realize this is never gonna end…But about the* *same time you
walk by and I say* *`Oh here we go again, oh.'”*

“Um, wow.” Was all Draco could say, causing Harry to do half a turn—still jumping—to spot the
intruders. Unashamed, he continued to repeat the chorus even louder now with an exciting new vigor.
As his song wound down, Harry jumped off his bed happily.

“I didn't know I had an audience.” He said, in such high spirits to even be the slightest
bit embarrassed over the situation as he gave a dramatic bow.

“Aren't we in a good mood?” Ron said, laughing.

Harry shrugged. “And who wouldn't be in a good mood? The weather is fine, the sun is
shining, and flowers are in bloom. Birds are a-singin'.” Harry said, completely up-beat.

Draco glanced out the window. “Yeah, except the weather is bastardly cold, the sun hasn't
shown in hours; the only flowers that you can find are in the Green Houses; and as far as birds
singing…I think that may be in your head…along with other songs, apparently.” He finished with a
smirk.

“Then it must be in *Upendi…in Upendi…da da da in Upendi*—woo!” Harry finished, strumming
his guitar one final time.

Ron raised a concerned eyebrow. “What is wrong with you?” He asked, in mock disgust.

Draco laughed before inputting the obvious, “He got snogged—he got snogged
*brilliantly*.”

Ron chuckled. “*You and Hermione snogged*?!” He asked in disbelief.

Harry's grin broadened as he continued to sing before putting his guitar up and throwing
himself on his bed, using his elbow to prop himself up. “I'm not the sort of bloke to kiss and
tell.” Harry revealed with an obvious smile.

“Oh fuck off, will you? *Details*!” Ron demanded, walking over and sitting on the edge of
his own bed, while Draco summoned a chair. “Did you do her?” He continued, tactless as ever.

Harry promptly chucked a pillow at his uncouth friend. “Ron, you prat!” He said before sitting
up.

“Seriously though, details.” Draco repeated.

The smirk on Harry's lips appeared to be imprinted onto his face because it hadn't
shifted at all. “Okay. We spent the day in Hogsmeade, yada yada yada. We came back here, went for a
ride on my Firebolt, and snogged in midair with a perfect sunset as the backdrop.” Harry said
dramatically, gesturing his hands in the air.

Draco rolled his eyes. “You know, I just left a girl's company because I couldn't take
it anymore, and she would have given me a bj. So if you're not willing to give a bit of head,
you're gonna have to stop acting like a chick.”

Harry laughed. “I take it she hasn't made it through your trial period yet?” He asked
quizzically.

Draco shook his head. “Not every girl gets the joy of getting a full piece of me. Only the lucky
few do.”

“That's funny because I didn't know the word `few' was in your vocabulary.” Ron
snorted, referring to his mate's colorful sex life.

“Despite how entertaining Draco's sexual encounters with various members of the female
population *are*...” Harry pointed out sarcastically, “Um, so now what do I do about
Hermione?” Harry asked, unsure of the next steps.

“Well, how did you leave it?” Ron asked as he casually stretched out on his bed, tucking a
pillow under his elbow.

An adoring smirk found its way onto his lips. “We decided to turn in early before either of us
fucked up the perfect day…that ended with a very yummy goodnight snog.”

Ron and Draco both laughed and offered high-fives, which Harry begrudgingly took them up on,
half-embarrassed and unsure why.

“So what do I do tomorrow?” Harry asked again, knowing they both had more experience than he
did.

“Well, you have a few options…most of which will end with you two in a cozy broom closet.” Draco
began with a smug look.

Harry rolled his eyes. “I forgot I was asking the womanizer extraordinaire and…” He looked over
at Ron for help.

“Er…I was going to advise the broom closet as well…” He said guiltily.

“And the womanizer wannabe, apparently.”

Not missing a beat, Draco said suavely, “I'm just trying to help a bloke out, is all.
It's time to get you shagged.”

Harry sighed. “I'm thinking perhaps this may be something that is a little more long-term
than a few snogs in a cluttered closet. Instead, I think I'll just wing it and see how things
go. Thanks anyway.” He replied with a grin.

Draco nodded his head in understanding. “Good idea, mate. We'll let you fuck this up
yourself so you can't put the blame on us.”

Ron gave a nod of agreement. “This is true. I can already see the day your pansy ass comes
crying to us when you mess up something because you didn't know what you should have been
doing.”

“I think I'll take the chance.” Harry replied, though slightly deterred by their words.
Would he do something to mess this up? He blew out a puff of air—Merlin help him.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

It was still so very early, but Hermione didn't mind—after all, she had a lot to think
about. As she slowly walked to her dormitory, Hermione let her mind drift through all the day's
events. It had been absolutely wonderful. She couldn't have asked for a better Valentine's
Day—or day in general. Getting ready with the girls had actually been fun. Harry had looked quite
handsome when they all met up in the Common Room. There hadn't been any tension or awkwardness.
Everyone was getting along quite bloody fantastically. Ginny and Neville had seemed to really hit
it off. Ron and Luna looked as if they had had a good time as well. As for her and Harry…well the
only fitting word was *magical*.

Hermione walked into her empty room and dropped unceremoniously onto her bed with a smile. She
opened her purse and pulled out the quill she had gotten. After slowly examining the new present,
Hermione carefully placed it neatly inside her bedside table drawer and sifted through her purse to
find her camera. She lay on her stomach and propped herself up on her elbows before turning her
camera on and began to flip through the photos of the day with a small grin. She stopped and
lingered on one in particular*—`That has to be the most fantastic first real kiss ever in
history—'* she thought dreamily to herself as an even larger smile crept its way onto her
slightly blushing face as she laid back into her pillows and let a few excited giggles escape
her.

Yes, everything had been perfect. She casually continued through the day's photos, laughing
at the pictures from Madam Puddifoot's. Hermione pulled up the picture of herself and Harry
kissing again. She thought of their good night kiss, the blush resuming in her cheeks.

Hermione got up and pulled her pajamas and then returned to her blankets. She lay in bed, lazily
wondering what tomorrow would bring. What did this mean? Were her and Harry a couple now? They
would make a great couple, she decided suddenly. They got along quite well. His friends were her
friends too. He loved Quidditch and she loved watching him play Quidditch. She loved books and
studying and…well, he was smart. She didn't think her parents would mind—they liked him enough.
Harry's parents…Hermione frowned. How would that work out? They would have to understand that
she was important to Harry. They were important in the War, and the closer they were, the better
maybe.

Hermione bit her lip. But what if they didn't work out, as most couples their age
didn't? Dumbledore had made it sound as if they would eventually have to work alongside each
other during the War. That would be difficult to do if there was hostility between the two. Also,
she couldn't see Harry's parents ever being on board, despite how important she was to
their son. The more she thought about it, the more stress and obstacles Hermione saw. Despite
having such a great day, it was beginning to dawn on Hermione—like everything else it seemed—that
it had been too good to be true.

There was a good chance it wouldn't work out. Every possible thing that could oppose even
their friendship had somehow reared its ugly head thus far. Hermione began to toss and turn as
these unsettling thoughts swam though her mind. At last, the cold truth finally sunk in—it would be
in their best interests to remain friends, and friends only. Agreeing to go on a real date today
with Harry had been a total fluke—just a fun little experiment, Hermione decided dejectedly. She
would push away the fact that it had resulted in a perfect day…accompanied by a whole host of
confusing, miserable feelings.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Hermione had gotten to him, simple as that. He used to shrug off these odd feelings and his
mates' remarks, but now, there was no fighting it—only admitting (and embracing) it. Yes, he
fancied her. Realization had been a long time coming, perhaps because the signs weren't so
painfully obvious. Where were the sweating palms? The butterflies? His inability to think around
her? The cliché signs had never surfaced, and being a novice in the game of love, he hadn't
thought to look deeper. He had always been calm and collected in Hermione's company. She
didn't make him nervous—quite the opposite actually. How could he have divined that he had
feelings for her out of all this?

He didn't know. All he knew was that he yearned for her company; that her voice made him
smile, even it was nagging him to finish his essay before Quidditch. During Christmas he had
thought about her more than anything else—had wanted to see her, to talk to her.

Not to mention the kiss they had shared. It had felt so…right, even if it had been for show. He
hadn't really thought about it much. Hermione was his friend, and he had helped her out. In all
honestly, nothing else had provoked him to kiss her, only to help. But now…helping her was
definitely not why he wanted to kiss her.

Once he had compiled all the odd feelings and memorable gestures (he would have never went to
the lengths of making a unicorn-drawn sleigh ride for Ron and Draco), and added that up with
today's events, he could only come up with one conclusion—he may very well fancy the shit of
out of this girl. The more that he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. Apparently
Hermione was the girl for him. Harry smiled suddenly—*oh what his parents would think*!


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Hermione woke up early. She hadn't planned on it, especially on a Sunday. But she
couldn't help it. Harry had her mind in shambles—and she wasn't very fond of it. She needed
to prove to herself that she was in control. Without the events of yesterday clouding her mind,
Hermione realized how foolish she had been the night before. No, they had merely been caught up in
the moment. She forced herself to realize there wasn't anything between her and Harry in the
first place, and her semi-crestfallen feelings over the whole matter were not only fruitless, but
silly. The two of them had gotten swept away yesterday with a fairytale date. It had been perfect.
It had been fun. But today was a whole new day, and she could see things in a different, clearer
light. It wasn't the time for a fresh start of something new. No, it was a crash landing back
into the wonderful world of reality, where she and Harry were best friends—nothing less, nothing
more. They just couldn't be.

She would have loved to stay in her dorm all day long—avoid seeing Harry altogether. But she
couldn't. No, instead she dressed and headed to the Great Hall for a quick bite before hiding
and holing herself up in the Library, her safe haven, where she allowed for herself to be engulfed
by her homework and her N.E.W.T.S. Soon, she was so lost to what was going on in her personal life
as academically-driven-Hermione took over that all traces of Harry had vanished from her
thoughts.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Harry woke with a smile on his lips. His good mood continued as he got ready for the day,
humming cheerfully to himself. As he had become accustomed to, he gave the Common Room a quick scan
for a certain brown-haired girl before heading off to the Great Hall for breakfast with a grin
plastered on his face. He noticed Hermione wasn't at breakfast either. He grabbed some toast
and an apple before heading off to the Library, where he suspected she must be if not still in her
dorm.

He spotted her—or rather, the many stacks of books that surrounded her—easily at her usual
table. He lightly started toward the poor table, which looked as if it could collapse at any
moment. Harry silently sat down across from Hermione, who was too engrossed in her reading to
notice. He slowly split apart the two towers of books that concealed her from his view, much like
parting the Red Sea. “Boo!” Harry hissed loudly, causing Hermione to jump.

“Harry!” Hermione shrieked in an audible whisper before smiling.

“Honestly, Hermione, you really should pay a little more attention to your surroundings.” Harry
teased good-naturedly, shaking his head in mock dismay. “How long have you been here?” He asked,
absently grabbing a book and thumbing through it.

Hermione's behavior suddenly shifted, and Harry watched her physically stiffen. She gave a
nonchalant shrug. “A few hours, I suppose.” She replied, returning to her book.

Harry reached over to shut her book. “Well it looks like you're in need of a break—” He
began but stopped when Hermione snatched the book from his reach in an annoyed fashion.

“No, Harry. I don't need a break. Some people actually care about their marks, you know.”
Hermione remarked with a pointed look.

Harry laughed. “Hermione, you're so ahead, if you go any further, you'll be making the
lesson plans yourself.” He said, hoping for at least a smile.

Hermione didn't look amused at all, and all he earned was a nasty look from his friend
before she retorted, “Don't you have Quidditch or something? Your asinine comments aren't
exactly helping me prepare for my N.E.W.T.'s.”

Feeling more confused than ever and even slightly taken aback by her foul mood and poor attitude
towards him, Harry abruptly stood and replied uneasily, “I guess I do; sorry for being such a
bother. I just thought—”

Without looking up, Hermione interrupted him rudely, “Well I guess you thought wrong.”

Harry shoved his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet awkwardly, unsure of how to handle
this very different side of Hermione. “Um…so I guess I'm going to go find Ron and Draco then…”
He said, still shuffling around.

Still keeping her head down, Hermione sneered, “Honestly, Harry, I don't need a bloody
play-by-play.”

Feeling hurt at this point, he apologized, “Er, sorry. Just in case you want to take a break…I
guess you'll know where to find me?” He asked uncertainly.

Hermione's eyes once again didn't leave the page and she showed no sign of hearing him,
nor caring for what he had to say. Getting outright angry now, Harry gave a huff and half-stormed
out of the Library, receiving a very disapproving look from the vulture-looking Madam Pince.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

*I can't escape this hell
So many times I've tried
But I'm still caged inside
Somebody get me through this nightmare
I can't control myself

So what if you can see the darkest side of me
No one will ever change this animal I have become
Help me believe it's not the real me
So**mebody help me tame this animal**
This animal, this animal*

*“Animal I Have Become” THREE DAYS GRACE*

=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

`What's her problem?' Harry wondered as he stomped around the castle. Was she acting
like this because of what had happened yesterday? Was it that time of the month for her? There
could be countless reasons. Harry didn't know why she was acting this way, but he figured
he'd better leave her alone and let her anger blow over before she said something she might
regret—or was that him? The day in the Library came to mind when he had asked if her she had been
okay after getting beaten up. No, he definitely didn't want a replay of that all because of
their mutual short tempers.

He considered seeking out Ron and Draco, but decided against it. What would they know? Plus he
was half-embarrassed. He suddenly felt very foolish after his—with hindsight—silly behavior the
night before.

In the midst of his brooding, Harry found himself in the Astronomy Tower. With a heavy sigh,
Harry sat against the wall and stared disinterestedly out of the window, lost in thought. Harry sat
there for what felt like several hours, unmoving, before drifting off into an uncomfortable
sleep.

Harry was awaken by a waterfall plummeting down on him from a very large bucket that was
floating just above his head. He jumped up quickly out of reflex and whirled around to find the
culprit, who was none other than his godfather. Sirius stood there, chortling as a sopping-wet
Harry glared.

“*Rise and shine,* *Valentine*.” He sang in a sing-song voice.

“What'd you do that for?” Harry asked, irritated.

Sirius smirked. “I thought that was rather obvious.” He conjured up a towel and threw it to his
godson.

Harry wiped himself off before plopping back down to the floor; Sirius doing the same.

“How'd you know I was here?” Harry asked dryly, hoping Sirius would take the hint that he
didn't want company.

Sirius scoffed. “And what makes your inflated ego think I was searching for you?! Perhaps I just
fancied a stroll in the Astronomy Tower. Or I might be meeting a girl here. Minerva was looking
quite *enchanting* last night.”

Harry wasn't in the mood and ignored his banter. Instead, he leaned his head back on the
wall and closed his eyes…only to feel another cascade of water rain down on him.

Fuming, Harry rounded on his smirking godfather. “Would you *stop* doing that!? It's
getting really fucking old! Goddamnit, Sirius.” Harry said heatedly, standing and toweling himself
off again.

Though slightly alarmed by Harry's reaction, Sirius couldn't stop himself, “And it
sounds like someone has a dirty mouth…s*courgify.*” He said, laughing as pink bubbles appeared
on Harry's tongue and burst from his mouth.

Almost gagging, Harry sputtered and used the towel to wipe his mouth clean. “Oh *grow up*,
will you?!” He shouted at his godfather.

Sirius's laughing stopped short. He furrowed his brow. “And who pissed in your pumpkin
juice, Potter?” He asked, taking a step back to give Harry a wide berth.

Feeling as annoyed as ever, Harry spat a few times before replying, “Nothing, just leave me
alone, okay?” He replied shortly, throwing the towel down to the ground.

Knowing how emotionally-driven his godson was, and seeing that he was genuinely right-pissed
off, Sirius knew it was not a good idea to just leave the ticking time bomb be—though prodding the
angry lion didn't seem like the wisest of options either. Treading carefully, Sirius slowly
asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Feeling in an even fouler mood than before now that he tasted soap and was still dripping wet in
a very cold room, with the cause of this standing here in front of him, “There's nothing to
talk about,” was all he could sneer.

“I can tell.” Sirius nodded.

“I'm serious—”

“No, I believe *I'm* Sirius. *You're* Hairy…and a bit smelly too, to be
honest.” Sirius cut in, wrinkling his nose and hoping for a laugh. He received an eye roll—close
enough, certainly better than a sneer. Encouraged, he continued, “Harry, you're alone in a dark
tower, in a right foul mood—Dripping wet at that!—and you mean to tell me that nothing is bothering
you?” He asked with deliberate slowness.

“I'm in a foul mood because some wanker dumped water on me—*twice*!” was Harry's
rebuttal.

“I'll see about that wanker later. But in his defense…I think I can correctly state that you
were in foul mood before. Plus, I think he may have only done that because he thought you might
have been on fire…twice.” Sirius replied rather guiltily.

Ignoring Sirius's attempt to cheer him up, Harry responded evenly, “I'm fine.”

Sirius sighed. “Don't make me hex it out of you, son.” He said sternly.

A small smile finally broke across Harry's lips at his antics and he gave up. “Promise you
won't tell my parents?” He asked begrudgingly.

The older man smirked wickedly. “I like it already.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Hermione was still in the Library, focusing all of her concentration on her school work. Her
mind strayed to Harry only a handful of times, briefly wondering if she had been too harsh and
speculating his whereabouts. Just how far away had she driven him? She didn't know exactly what
she was trying to accomplish, being so mean. She didn't know what else to do or how to handle
the whole situation, so she just decided to build a wall. If she didn't give him a chance to
talk about it, then she wouldn't have to deal with anything. She wouldn't have to tell him
that it was impossible. However, she *did* feel bad about being so harsh.

Before she could give any further thought to the matter, Veronica, Dennis, and another First
Year named Simon came over to her, books in hand and confused, furrowed brows on their faces.
Hermione smiled and moved all her books to make room for the younger students at her table.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“She was acting as cold as she had when we weren't even friends. But now, the sting is so
much worse because I care for her a great deal, obviously.” Harry finished, picking at a loose
stone in the wall.

Sirius tried but failed to hide his smile.

“What?” Harry asked, lost to what was so funny, but Sirius only shook his head. Harry let out an
annoyed huff. “Well I'm glad you find this all so bloody comical.”

Sirius laughed. “I just never thought I'd see the day when my godson would be so taken by a
girl.” He wiped away a fake tear. “I'm so proud.”

With a dramatic eye roll, Harry replied, “Yeah, yeah. Ha-ha. Now what do I do?” He asked,
growing serious.

Sirius sighed. “It's obvious you care about that girl, and even better that you're
admitting it. And by the sound of it, she feels the same. So I'd say…it looks like you're
talking to the wrong person.” He advised.

Harry nodded in understanding. “I just wanted to let her—and me too I guess—cool off some. But I
suppose I'll go and try to tame the dragon. I imagine she's still in the Library. She'd
probably sleep on a cot in there if they let her.”

“Good idea. I'll walk you…to my office, anyway.” Sirius replied, standing.

Harry had been correct, Hermione was still in the same spot he had left her, only instead of
being surrounded by a fortress of books, it was three First Years. He took a deep breath before
heading over to the table and pulling up a seat to her left. Hermione gave him a nod of
acknowledgment before returning to Dennis. After waiting there quietly for a few minutes, Harry
grabbed her pencil and reached over to write on the empty notebook page in front of Hermione.

`**Hi.**' He wrote, looking up at her expectantly. He watched her look intently at his
greeting for a few contemplating seconds before finally giving in and reaching for a writing
utensil of her own.

`**Hey.**' She replied in her own neat handwriting.

He scribbled quickly, `**Are you angry with me?**' Hermione stared once again at his
writing. He certainly didn't waste time. Always got to the point.

`**No***.*'

Harry bit his lip. `**What's wrong? I thought you were going to bit****e** **my head
off this morning.**' He wrote back, hoping she wouldn't get upset.

Hermione stared at his words and noticed her vision start to grow fuzzy because of the tears
that tried to escape. She felt absolutely awful. `**I'm sorry**' was all she could write
back, he handwriting a little less tidy as before.

`**What's wrong? Is it about yesterday?**' Harry scrawled hastily, almost bouncing up
and down with anticipation while waiting for a reply, which didn't take long.

`**Yes.**' She responded guiltily.

Slightly put off by her short answers, he quickly asked, `**Do you regret it?**' He
wasn't sure if he really wanted a reply to that one.

Hermione pulled the notebook closer and mulled over his question and began to write
`*yes*' before scribbling it out and slowly writing something else, `**Yes****.**
**No. It just can't happen again.**'

As Harry read her words, he didn't know what to think. “Why not?” He asked aloud, forgetting
the discretion of their conversation.

“Harry, not now.” Hermione said, casting a meaningful look over to the busy First Years, who
were scribbling away on their homework.

Impatient, Harry stood and grabbed Hermione's hand and pulled her along. “She'll be
right back.” He called back to the younger students as he dragged her from the Library, ignoring
Madam Pince's glare at his noisiness.

“Harry!” Hermione whispered fiercely, half-heartedly pulling away.

Once Harry opened the nearest door in the corridor, which turned out to be a broom closet, he
pushed her in and followed.

“*Lumos*.” He said without thinking before repeating his earlier question: “*Why
not*?”

Hermione tried to move away from him, but space was limited and Harry's body blocked the
door. She scrunched her eyes, trying to avert the bright, luminous tip of Harry's wand.

“Well?” He asked impatiently.

Hermione refused to meet his eyes. “Harry, let me out. This is silly.”

In response, Harry only crossed his arms across his chest, unmoving.

Hermione sighed. “Harry, you're being ridiculous. *Move*!” Hermione demanded and made
an effort to push past him.

Careful not to be rough, Harry gave her a small shove backwards. “No. We're sorting this
out.”

Hermione was getting impatient and tried once again to head for the door. Harry stood his ground
and wasn't going to let her out.

“What do you want me to say, Harry?” Hermione asked, throwing her hands up in the air in
surrender.

“I don't know. That you liked yesterday? Why it can't happen again? Why you're being
mean to me? The truth?! *Pick one*!” Harry answered, his voice loud in the confined space.

Hermione shook her head, furious. She felt the tears coming on. She brought her hands to her
face and wiped her eyes. “Harry.” She spoke softly. “Look at us. Look at our relationship up to
this point. Nothing has been easy. Everyone has freaked out. You lost your best mates for awhile.
You've wrecked things with your parents. Your popularity status with the students plummeted…and
that's just what you've suffered on my account. Harry, to take this further is just asking
for trouble, and it won't work out.

“And besides all those complications,” She began to speak more matter-of-factly and at a faster
pace, “*What if we didn't work out?* We have to work together to against Voldemort. We
can't jeopardize that over a stupid crush that will pass.”

“*All that we've suffered*? Being friends has been well-worth it, in my book, Hermione.
Nothing has been dramatic enough to actually matter. Ron and Draco came round. My parents are on
the verge. All the other students, well, most don't really think much of it anymore—and even if
they did, who gives a damn? I care a hell of a lot more about you than them.” Harry fired back
passionately without missing a beat.

“And Voldemort?”

Harry scoffed. “I'm not going to have my life revolve round a War that might or might not
happen.”

Hermione could see that Harry would have a rebuttal for every point she would make. He loved to
argue just as much as she did. “Harry, it can't happen.” She finally said simply.

Harry could feel his temper rise as she continued to be difficult. “What are you so afraid of?”
He insisted.

Hermione looked away with no response.

Harry gave up and opened the door. “Fine. Whatever. Run away, again. That seems to be your
trademark when things get rough anyway.” He spat as Hermione rushed past him.

She stopped dead in her tracks at his words. “What did you just say?” She asked, turning around
to face him.

“It's the truth. Every time things get difficult, you take off. You push me away. So go
ahead. Do what you do best.” He bucked coldly.

Hermione felt all her blood rush to her face. “You don't know *anything* about
difficult. *I do not run away*.” She battled defensively.

Harry let out a bitter laugh and rolled his eyes. “Keep telling yourself that. You run. You keep
shit from me. You constantly push me away and build up walls around you to keep me out. If
that's not running away, then I don't fucking know what is.” was all he said before turning
around and walking away.

“You're being ridiculous!” Hermione hollered after him; however, he ignored her words and
kept walking. Hermione stood there in the now-empty corridor, torn between being dumbfounded and
utterly pissed off. How *dare* he? She didn't always run away. After all this time, she
had thought that he finally understood…but no, he didn't. Not at all, obviously. Furious,
Hermione walked into the Library, politely excused herself from the First Years and angrily stomped
her way to the Gryffindor Common Room and into her dormitory, ready to sulk the day away. For good
measure, Hermione flicked her wand to board up and lock her windows in case Harry got any ideas
trying to sweet talk her. No, today she would be mad as he had done a very thorough job in pissing
her off.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Harry had never actually been pissed off with Hermione before. Sure, she had annoyed him a bit
from time to time, but never had he been officially angry the way he was now. The way she had
treated him all day was forcing him to rethink their entire relationship up to this point.

Brooding, Harry laid on his back in his bed with his hands tucked comfortably behind his head.
He glared up at the ceiling, lost in his own fury.

The sound of someone trying to open the door suddenly filled the room. Harry ignored it. He had
used a powerful Locking Charm that he doubted any of his dorm mates would be able to break.

Pounding on the door, followed by, “Hey, open up!” told him it was Jeremy trying to come in.
“Oy! Who's shagging it up in here? At least hang a tie on the door, Malfoy!” He called.

Harry ignored the door, though he couldn't resist a small smirk that tugged at the corners
of his lips.

Eventually, Jeremy gave up and left, leaving Harry in peace, though not for long. Soon, there
was more pounding on the door, this time it was Ron and Draco.

“Harry, we know you're in there. And we know you aren't shagging anyone so unlock the
door.” Draco yelled through the door.

“Fuck off!” Harry called back, wanting to be left alone. He could hear his mates arguing about
what to do, as well as them trying various failed charms. They wouldn't figure it out, he knew.
After all, it was a very old charm Hermione had shown him that wasn't used much anymore.

“Harry, open the bloody door already!” Ron demanded. “Don't make us go find Hermione.” He
threatened.

*`Go find Hermione,* Harry thought to himself. *`See if I care.'*

“Harry, please open the door.”

*`Well, because you said please…*not*.**'* Harry thought, amused.

Ron's voice sounded annoyed at this point. “Stop being a fucking tosser!”

“Leave me alone!” Demanded Harry through gritted teeth.

He heard Draco snicker. “*Real fucking mature**, mate*.”

Fed up, Harry unlocked the door with a swish of his wand, before a second flick sent a blasting
charm towards the door, effectively opening the door as requested, and singing Ron's eyebrows
off in the process.

“That was rather unnecessary.” Ron said slowly, brushing charred debris from his shoulder. Draco
stepped in the room and pulled a chair up to face Harry, who was still facing the ceiling.

He gave a sigh. “Now I'm no mediwizard, but I think it may be time to analyze your symptoms:
you're moody; you go from extreme euphoria to extreme depression; you're irritable and go
off on people who are only trying to help you. Um…do you notice that your breasts are tender?
Possible weight gain? Miss your period? Because I think you might be pregnant, mate.” Draco
confessed with a straight face.

Despite his positively awful, foul mood, Harry cracked a grin and chucked a pillow at his
friend.

“It's a very unbecoming look for you. You're high, you're low. You're up,
you're down. You're in love with Hermione; then you don't give a shit. What gives,
mate?” Ron piped up, pulling up a chair for himself.

“We just had a big fight.” Harry said, trying to keep his tone even to sound indifferent. “When
I saw her this morning…well, let's just say things weren't as peachy keen as last night. In
fact, you could say she was downright…*mean*. I didn't understand because yesterday had
been brilliant.”

Draco raised an eyebrow. “Okay, so then why the Ice Queen act?”

“If you'll let me finish…After she all but demanded that I leave, I went to the Astronomy
Tower. Sirius found me somehow. We talked for a bit and he advised I talk to her.” He sighed. “So I
went back to the library. She was with a few First Years, so we wrote back and forth to be
discrete. And well…,” Harry ran a hand through his hair and gave details to what their conversation
had entailed.

Surprised, “She rejected you?” Ron asked.

“Then I may have done something drastic—” Harry said guiltily, causing his friends to raise
their eyebrows in response, coaxing Harry to continue.

“You barricaded her in a broom closet?!” Draco asked incredulously as more dirty details were
revealed.

Ron shook his head. “Mate, I'm no expert, but even *I* know girls don't like that.
I mean, I know we said something about a cozy broom closet encounter…but that's a bit extreme,
don't you think? That's not cozy…that's mental.”

Defensive of his previous actions, Harry tried to explain. “No, you blokes don't get it. She
would have avoided me, because that's what she does. She runs and ignores the problem; then,
she pushes you away so she won't have to deal with it.” Harry responded heatedly before plowing
forward. “I'm sick of it. I bend over backwards for her, and what does she do? Act like a cold,
heartless b—”

“Do you *really* want to finish that sentence?” Draco asked cautiously. “Don't say
something you'll regret.” He advised.

“…Butthead.” Harry finished lamely.

His friends nodded in understanding. “We know. We've seen you go all out for her…but
don't you think she's done stuff for you too?” Ron asked weakly.

Harry couldn't disagree with the idea that Hermione had done her part as well. He nodded
slowly. “Absolutely. There's no denying she hasn't pulled her weight in this relationship.
She helps me study. Cracks terrible jokes. Listens to me bitch. She goes to quite a few of my
Quidditch practices—*all* my games. No, she has definitely been amazing. And I'm not going
to let our relationship go to hell or anything.” He assured his fellow Gryffindors, feeling better
now that he had talked things out with someone.

His friends listened. Ron asked, “So what are you going to do?”

Harry sat up and shrugged. “I don't know quite yet. I mean, I like her. A lot. And I know
she likes me too. I reckon I did go a bit overboard, but it was only because she was pissing me
off,” he pointed out.

“So, is it like*…`be with me…or forget about me'* kind of thing?” Draco asked.

Harry laughed. “Not at all. But don't you get it? *This* is what she does. She runs.
I…well, I don't really think I'll be giving up because I think…yes...I think she might just
need more time maybe? Yes.” Harry thought aloud, trying to convince himself more than anyone else.
“I have no problem with that. Earlier…like I said, I went a wee bit overboard. But I'm calm now
and if she wants to hold off, then I'll wait.” Harry concluded.

Draco stood, “So you're going to go talk to her then?”

Harry considered his question for a moment. Should he go to her and apologize? Try to mend their
bruised relationship? Had he been that much of an arse?

He shook his head and sat up, throwing his legs over the side of his bed. “I was a little
dramatic. I'll admit it. I was pushing somewhat more than I should have. But I wasn't mean.
I wasn't—acting bitchy. She was outright *very* spiteful towards me. I think it is her
turn to fix us, especially when I feel like she's the one who screwed up, not me. I just wanted
answers. You mates know when I'm wrong, I'll say I'm wrong. Right now…well, I'm
going to wait for her to come to me and apologize. I always go find her and say `I'm
sorry.'” He finished. Harry paused for a moment before nodding, as if making up his mind about
the situation.

Ron yawned. “Sounds fair. So…how about a game of Quidditch?”

Harry grinned. “You blokes do always know how to put a guy in a good mood. Sounds good to me.
It's about time to start extending practices anyway. We want to make sure we are top notch for
our last game. We haven't lost the Quidditch House Cup in all our years here—I don't plan
on starting this year.” The two boys agreed before the trio began to bundle up.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Hermione was in a right terrible mood. She couldn't believe Harry's attitude. How dare
he accuse her of being so weak? She most certainly was not running away. No, he was just being a
total and complete jerk.

Still fuming in her room, she decided to take a warm bath to calm down.

An hour later, Hermione emerged back into her dorm from the bathroom, feeling refreshed, and no
longer angry—or at least, less so than she had been. She had gone over the scenario over and over
in her head to the point where she had become completely bored with the whole thing. He was just
angry, she convinced herself. He would be sorry. Knowing him, Harry would probably make some grand
gesture to show his apologies and tell her she was in fact the bravest person he knew, and that he
had just been talking out of his arse earlier. It comforted her to know that he was most likely
every bit as miserable as she was.

Hermione sat down and pondered what she should say the next morning when he apologized. Should
she forgive him right away? Maybe make him wait a bit because what he had said had been really
hurtful.

She sighed. She would just wait and see. Despite being begrudgingly ready to forgive him, she
didn't want to go through the play-by-play at the moment.

00000

Classes came bright and early the next morning. Feeling slightly relieved that she and Harry
were going to make amends soon, Hermione hurried down the stairs and went off to the Great Hall,
where her three friends were already sitting down. She hadn't expected them to all be in here
before her. She adopted a cold demeanor and walked straight passed the trio and sat down next to
Ginny. She noticed Harry had looked up at her before returning to his conversation. Hermione
ignored him and tried to engage Ginny in a conversation as she averted her eyes from the direction
of three certain Gryffindors—one in particular.

Harry had to resist rolling his eyes at Hermione's behavior. She wanted to make her presence
known to him—that much was obvious. He looked her way, to let her know he had in fact seen her
before easily dismissing his friend. She was going to come to him.

Classes began like always. After halfway through the day, Hermione was beginning to get
irritated. Harry looked very much like he had before they had become friends. He wasn't angry
or brooding. Instead, he and Ron and Draco joked around and laughed, disrupting class. She knew he
was going to apologize for being a total prat to her, but she wished he would just make his point
already. The longer he took, the angrier she became. The worst of it was that he wasn't
ignoring her, per se. No, he still sat nearby and even caught her eye on several occasions. He
wasn't being friendly nor unfriendly. Instead, he was being purely indifferent.

“He's acting like a jerk.” Hermione complained to Ginny while they sat together at dinner
with Neville.

“Maybe you should try talking to him?” Neville put in off-handedly.

Ginny scoffed. “And why should she go begging back to that arsehole?! After what he said to
her?” She asked incredulously.

Neville shrugged. “I dunno, it seems like *Hermione* is the bothered one while Harry…” He
trailed off, casting a glance in the raven-haired Gryffindor's direction. Harry, along with a
group of boys, was currently participating in some sort of eating contest. Loud, obnoxious sounds
were coming from their general direction. It was obvious Neville would much rather join them than
sit here and listen to Hermione's complaints.

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Oh go on then!” She said, releasing Neville. Apparently they had had a
nice date the day before, and even though Neville and Ginny were still just friends, it was obvious
something was brewing.

Sighing, Hermione watched as Harry had a good time without her. He was off having fun, and she
was sitting here, sulking.

Seething, Hermione excused herself and went to her lonely dormitory as she awaited her
Occlumency lesson that evening.

Harry felt Hermione's eyes on him all day. She was upset. He wasn't exactly sure why,
however. Was it because he hadn't come crawling back? Was she expecting him to?

Either way, he didn't care much at the moment. He wasn't going to ignore her—that would
be immature. He wasn't going to act mean either. After all, she was the girl for him. She would
realize the error in her ways, he was sure of it. It wasn't his job to magically fix everything
all the time. In the mean time, he would catch up on some much-needed “guy time.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“Miss Granger, this is quite possibly the worst performance you have ever given.” Snape sneered
with a curling lip.

Hermione picked herself up off the ground for the umpteenth time that evening.

“You are clearly unfocused.”

“I'm trying.” Hermione said through gritted teeth.

Snape sighed and walked behind his desk to take a seat. “Return to your dormitory.” He ordered,
not glancing up.

Incredulous, Hermione strode forward. “What?!” She asked.

“You are obviously unfocused and you're just wasting my time tonight. There is no point in
continuing this evening's lesson. Return to your quarters.” He repeated.

Angry, Hermione snatched up her wand and stalked out of the Dungeons, her temper nearing a
boiling point.

She couldn't blame Snape—her performance had indeed been poor. No, she blamed Harry for
getting inside her head and causing her to have difficulty focusing. From now on, she wouldn't
allow it.

Stomping through the Castle, Hermione furiously made her way to the Common Room, when she saw
Harry and his mates in the middle of the room, chuckling. Her focus was suffering, and here he was,
carelessly sitting on the back of the couch, having the time of his life. Narrowing her brown eyes,
Hermione strode over to him. He stopped laughing when he saw her.

“Hello Hermione.” He said calmly.

She could almost feel the steam blow out of her ears—perhaps there was.

Livid, she pushed him off the back of the couch and sent him toppling backwards. “Fuck you,
Harry Potter.” She spat before heading to the stairs, a smile crossing her face for the first time
that day as a dumbfounded Harry just sat there, dazed from his tumble to the floor.

Ron offered Harry a hand to help him to his feet as the silent Common Room had their eyes on
Harry.

“What was *that*?!” Draco asked with a scoff, glancing after Hermione, who had already
disappeared from the room.

“That, mate, is Hermione's way of showing me she cares.” Harry replied smoothly.

Ron snickered. “And how do you figure? That wasn't exactly what I would call a love tap.” He
pointed out.

Harry shrugged. “You've got to learn to read between the lines. She's a rather odd
girl.”

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

*I see ya blowin' me a kiss
It doesn't take a scientist
To understand what's going on baby
If you see something in my eye
Let's not over analyze
Don't go too deep with it baby

So let it be what it'll be
Don't make a fuss and get crazy over you and me
Here's what I'll do
I'll play loose
Run like we have a day with destiny

It's just a little crush (crush)
Not like I faint every time we touch
It's just some little thing (crush)
Not like everything I do depends on you
Sha-la-la-la, Sha-la-la-la*

*“Crush” JENNIFER PAIGE*

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

After the little mini fiasco in the Common Room, Hermione felt a lot better. She found that it
cleared her head and she was able to concentrate on what was important—her schoolwork and the
N.E.W.T.S. that were quickly approaching—which meant she was free to ignore Harry and his
idiocy.

The incident had also given Harry even more faith. He had obviously gotten to her; he could
tell. He just had to be stronger than her and wait it out. He was not going to be the one to fix
this. He felt immature, but at the same time, his general principles were at stake.

Two weeks of Hermione's stubbornness had passed now. Harry had had to remind himself a few
times that he would not go crawling back. The game for the Quidditch Cup was coming up in just a
few months, so he doubled practices. Slytherin was in the lead, and they both had one last game.
With Quidditch practice and all the extra homework due to their upcoming N.E.W.T.S., the time
seemed to fly by as the beginning of March approached.

Hermione had her N.E.W.T.S. to keep her busy, and had barely given Harry a second thought.

That was a lie. Hermione thought about him quite often. Even the impending tests could not rid
her mind of him.

She had thought of him in a friendly way. In a romantic way. Hell, even in a jealous way. She
had seen a Ravenclaw Sixth Year try flirting with him—it had taken Madam Pomfrey a week to sort her
eyebrows out.

Hermione sighed as she shut her book, *Occlumency For The Advanced*. Her lessons had taken
a turn for the better. She could almost always stop Snape's advances into her mind in less than
fifteen seconds.

She was proud of her progress to an extent—as she was slightly unhappy that it had taken so long
for her to reach even this point. She still couldn't block him from her mind entirely. Feeling
optimistic about her about her last lesson for the week, Hermione picked up her wand and headed out
of her dormitory.

She walked swiftly through the Common Room, only stopping briefly to have a quick word with
Ginny. As she was about to open the Portrait Hole, she was slightly startled when it opened before
she could touch it and Harry stepped though, almost running into her. Both paused as they stood
face-to-face.

“Hello, Hermione.” Harry greeted with a half-smirk, Firebolt in hand and completely soaked from
head to toe, due to the raging storm outside.

“Potter.” She responded stiffly, stepping past him as she resisted the urge to lecture him about
being drenched in the freezing weather.

Shaking off the surprise of meeting him at the Portrait Hole, Hermione easily checked her
emotions and headed for the familiar Dungeons. She gave her usual quick, businesslike knock on the
closed door, ready to begin her lesson. The door opened, revealing the Potions Master.

“Good evening, sir.” Hermione greeted, stepping inside before coming to an abrupt stop.
“Professor Dumbledore.” She greeted again, surprised but nodding her head in acknowledgement of the
tall wizard sitting comfortably in a chair Hermione was sure she had never seen in the Dungeons
before.

“Miss Granger.” He replied, standing and tilting his head to her.

Hermione gave an anxious laugh. “Should I come back?” She asked, casting a glance between the
two professors.

A low rumble of laughter escaped the Headmaster. “Then we would be waiting longer. No, I am here
to sit in on your lesson. I would just like to see where you stand thus far.” He explained,
settling himself once again in his large comfy chair that stuck out drastically from the rest of
the dungeon décor, or lack thereof.

Hermione gave a nod of understanding as she felt nervousness overtake her. She wasn't able
to completely block out Professor Snape's advances! And here was the Headmaster, trying to
judge her progress.

Hermione tried to not show her uneasiness as she simply pushed up the sleeves of her hoodie and
prepared herself for the inevitable attack on her mind.

“Let's get started, then, shall we?” Severus said, taking his place in front of her.

Hermione gave a nod to confirm her readiness as she masked her emotions.

“One—two—three—*Legilimens*!” Snape spoke, launching their lesson, but not before
Hermione's mind went completely blank—and not in the way that was intended.

Her mind was immersed in flashes of memories before she could get a grip of the situation. It
was as if everything she had learned thus far escaped her. She couldn't make heads-or-tails of
anything as images—mostly recent ones of herself and Harry—jogged through her mind.

Unable to stop it, Hermione ended up like she had for the better part of their beginning
lessons—crashing to her knees.

“I wasn't aware the unicorns in the Forbidden Forest were for student use, Miss Granger.”
Snape said with half a sneer.

Hermione's face was bright red from humiliation. She couldn't bear to look at the
Headmaster, who chimed in happily, “*Unicorns*? Sounds delightful!”

“Again.” Hermione gritted through her teeth, clutching her wand tightly.

*She easily laced her fingers with his so their palms met. She looked up at his deep, green
eyes. Such beautiful eyes. She smiled. She saw no pain there. “I promise.” She whispered softly,
squeezing his hand to reinforce her decision.*

*Harry leaned forward and cupped her face with one of his hands. After several seconds, he
began to slowly lean even more into her until his lips were just above hers.*

*Harry and Hermione silently stared at each other for a few seconds before Harry reached out a
hand and eased Hermione from behind the door and closer to him. His hand gently made its way under
her chin, caressing it adoringly. Hermione closed her eyes as Harry gradually lowered his lips to
hers for a second time that evening. Hermione's hands disappeared somewhere in his hair as his
wrapped around her middle, pulling her even closer.*

Hermione picked herself up off the floor for a second time. “Again.” She demanded.

“Miss Granger—”

“*Again*!” She cried, tears welling up.

*Hermione sneered, “Honestly, Harry, I don't need a bloody play-by-play.”*

*Harry gave up and opened the door. “Fine. Whatever. Run away, again. That seems to be your
trademark when things get rough anyway.” He spat as Hermione rushed past him.*

*“You don't know anything about difficult. I do not run away.” She battled
defensively.*

*Harry let out a bitter laugh and rolled his eyes. “Keep telling yourself that. You run. You
keep shit from me. You constantly push me away and build up walls around you to keep me out. If
that's not running away, then I don't fucking know what is.” Was all he said before turning
around and walking away.*

*“You're being ridiculous!” Hermione hollered after him; however, he ignored her words and
kept walking.*

“GEEETTT OOUUUTTT!!!” Hermione screamed, tears burning her eyes as she regained control of her
mind. She knelt there on the floor for several seconds before looking up to see both of the adults
staring at her, surprised. She noticed the Potions Master was nursing his right elbow.

“I-I…” Hermione was at a loss for words before she slumped to the floor, ashamed. She felt the
sudden urge to flee from the dungeon. “I'm sorry professor. I dunno what's come over me.
I've been doing so well.”

Dumbledore walked over to her and held out a hand to aid her in standing. Hermione gingerly took
his help and stood, crossing her arms protectively across her chest, almost as if it would make her
appear invisible. It took all she could not to run from the room.

“I do not doubt that. Perhaps you are nervous. Maybe we can try this another time. You look like
you need some rest.” Dumbledore replied gently, peering at her under his half-mooned
spectacles.

Embarrassed and dispirited, Hermione did her best to nod in response, though it came out more as
a half-hearted shrug.

“I have complete faith in you, Hermione,” the headmaster assured her as his light blue eyes
twinkled. “Well, I have some things that need attending to. Severus,” He acknowledged, dipping his
head, “And Miss Granger. I must bid you adieu. Excellent work and I appreciate the extra effort you
both are putting into this.” With that, the older man swept himself from their company, leaving
Hermione alone with Snape.

Not wanting to linger, Hermione made quick work of fixing her messy ponytail before pocketing
her wand. “Good night,” Hermione said before making a beeline for the door.

Snape gave a cough. “How about you stay for a nightcap and humor me, Miss Granger?” Severus
propositioned, inclining his head in the direction of his desk. “Do you prefer butterbeer served
hot or cold?”

Without turning around, Hermione stammered slightly, “I think I should just get to bed. It's
been a long, dreadful day.” She insisted.

“You drive a hard bargain. I'll let you sit in the comfortable chair.” He shot back,
amusement playing in his dark eyes.

Hermione had to stifle a giggle. She knew it must have been hard for the man to banter like
that. The Gryffindor turned slowly and made her way over to Dumbledore's vacant chair.

“Hot.” She answered, conjuring up two steaming tankards of the amber liquid and sent one
floating in his direction.

“I prefer it cold, actually.” Snape said and Hermione watched as he gripped the levitating
tankard and it glazed over with ice and the steam vanished at once. “Here's to progress.” Snape
said, raising his tankard and draining half of it before Hermione could lift her own.

“Progress.” She repeated, taking a sip. “Which, I know, was not shown tonight.” She said,
readying herself for an earful. She must have made him look bad.

“I don't want to talk about tonight.” He responded, surprising her. With almost a disgusted
sigh, he continued, “I don't claim to be Claire Rayner —”

Hermione almost choked on her butterbeer. “You watch Claire Rayner?!” She asked skeptically,
disbelief etched all over her face.

“I would not consider myself a fan—no. However, over the summer holidays, I have caught a
glimpse here and there. Believe it or not, I do indulge in a few Muggle luxuries in my house on
Spinner's End.” Snape replied smoothly before taking another swig of his butterbeer, which
Hermione noticed had refilled itself. “Anyway, as I was saying, I don't claim to be an overpaid
agony aunt of any sorts, but it doesn't take a genius—not that I am insinuating that Rayner is
a genius because I am *not*—to see that something is going on. Also, I won't lie—I'm
not overly concerned. However, as a teacher, I am obligated to offer some sort of…*solace*.”
He finished, talking slowly.

Hermione raised an eyebrow in interest. “`*Obligated to offer solace*?'” She repeated
incredulously. “Is that the sophisticated way Claire Rayner calls `being nosy?'” She snickered
before she could stop herself.

Snape did not even try to hide his smirk. “Don't make me deduct points from Gryffindor for
you cheek, Miss Granger.”

Hermione rolled her eyes at his empty threat. “If I remember right, you are the one who called
this late chat. I think I'm in the clear, no matter what I say.” She shot right back
daringly.

“Anyway,” Snape continued, ignoring her remark, “as I am obligated to offer some sort of solace,
if there is anything you need to talk about—I'm very busy and have things that need tended to
so get on with it.” He replied in a bored drawl.

Hermione looked affronted. “I don't even know what you want to talk about!”

“I know something is going on. Don't forget—I can see into your mind. It doesn't exactly
take a Muggle scientist to get the gist of what is going on.” He added lazily.

Hermione thought embarrassment ought to be flooding through her, but as she remembered the last
time she had had a heart-to-heart with the Potions Master—or as much of a heart-to-heart a student
(A Gryffindor no less!) could have with the miserable bloke—he had been forced to share his own
humiliating past. However, Hermione did feel slightly uncomfortable. Pushing past her uneasiness,
she gave a small shrug, “If you have such insight to my mind, then why are you asking me?” She
asked warily.

“I told you I have things to do, if you are going to be difficult, then perhaps you should
return to your dormitory.” Snape advised, opening the drawer of his desk, as if to pull out his
work that needed done.

With narrowed eyes, Hermione watched him shuffle though the drawer. “Harry and I had a row.” She
blurted out, not sure why she wanted to suddenly share this piece of information with the Potions
Master. She was forced to remind herself of Snape's trust in her and their conversation about
his grudge against Harry and his father, his unrequited love for Lily, and his past involving
Voldemort. Their talk had seemed—on the surface at least—to make him feel better. Maybe, if he was
willing to listen, this would make her feel better.

Snape did not look surprised. “One could have gathered this much. It has been easy to
notice…slight differences in behavior, I'm afraid. Perhaps it is for the best.” He replied
without looking up and scribbling an angry note on a piece of homework he was looking over and
scrawling a spiky D in the top right corner.

Hermione snorted. “Maybe. We…um…things…wow, this is actually weirder than I thought.” She
confessed, feeling her face burn.

Her professor, too, seemed to start to regret calling for this chat. “I *know*. There is no
need to go into details. Unfortunately, I've had to witness it on more than one occasion—your
rather disgusting displays of…affection.” He finished with his voice low, slow, and full of
repulsion.

For a moment, Hermione was at a loss for words. “Well, despite our *attraction*, I told him
it wouldn't work out.” She replied, wringing her hands in her lap nervously.

Snape tossed the finished homework into a new pile and pulled the next one to him. In a bored
voice, he responded tonelessly, “Good for you. Couldn't agree more.”

That was it? That was his *solace*? Deciding to continue despite her professor's
obvious lack of interest concerning her love life, she went on, “Er…he doesn't agree and we
both said some things that turned into a rather nasty row. Now, we haven't spoken in weeks.”
Hermione finished somewhat depressingly, choosing not to include details of what was said between
the two.

“You are better off for it, trust me.” Snape said unsurprisingly. “Even an insufferable
know-it-all like you can do better than the likes of Potter. Just like Lily—lowering your standards
for a Quidditch star fool.” He recalled with evident bitterness that he couldn't mask in his
voice. It was clear romantic advice was not his forte.

Her single encounter with Harry's mother came to mind and she unconsciously gave a shiver.
“Nothing against Harry's mum, but I really don't think there is anything we have in
common.” She laughed.

Professor Snape finally looked up from his grading for the first time since their awkward
conversation started, his black eyes studying her as if she had at last said something decently
interesting. “You'd be surprise.” He said with a raised eyebrow. “Let's just hope you
don't make the same dismal mistakes concerning your company.”

Hermione's joking demeanor came to an abrupt end. “I was only kidding but you
sound…serious.” She replied uncertainly. “She and I are nothing alike.”

He gave her another calculating look. “There are notable similarities. Both Muggle-Born. Both
exceptionally annoying know-it-alls. Gryffindors. Kind-hearted. Not an ounce of athleticism…lovely
emerald eyes…beautiful…”He trailed off, his voice barely above a whisper with his glazed over eyes
staring somewhere above Hermione's head.

Hermione wasn't sure what to say. It was obvious the bloke in front of her was reminiscing
about his school crush, or love rather. She certainly didn't have green eyes nor did she think
he found her particularly beautiful. It was weird to think of him falling for a woman like her.
From what she knew of each of them, they were polar opposites. The only commonality between the two
seemed to be their skills at potions (as Harry had told him his mother was fierce at
potion-making). However, listening to him talk about her, Hermione could see that he truly did love
this woman.

Snape suddenly stopped as he realized what he had been saying. “Not to mention,” his voice
taking on a hardened, cold tone, “Ensnared by the likes of James Potter—and his clone of a son.
*The Great Harry Potter*, or so to those few who do know of his past.” He gave a sarcastic
snort of disbelief. “However, those who *do* know him can obviously see there is nothing
extraordinary about his at all.” He said all this with his lip curling in utter dislike.

An internal battle waged inside of Hermione, as she wasn't sure if she wanted to defend
Harry or incline to agree that he was in fact a total prat. Talking with Ginny about how much of an
idiot Harry was was one thing as they both still had a decent liking for the bloke and they
half-knew their words were somewhat empty. Their anger was just fueling a (hopefully) temporary
situation. Snape, however, was completely genuine concerning his hatred for the boy, and Hermione
felt almost wrong to agree with him as she certainly didn't loath Harry at all. Yes, she was a
little more frustrated at the moment than usual, as she partially blamed him for her dismal
performance in front of the headmaster. She tried to convince herself she had messed up so because
of Harry's behavior. Deep down, however, she knew it wasn't his fault at all—it was just
much easier to blame him rather than her own shortcomings.

Finally, Hermione felt that her loyalty to Harry outweighed her anger with him. “As compelling
as your argument against him is, that isn't exactly why we aren't…er…on speaking terms with
each other at the moment. In reality, he is actually a top notch bloke.” She confessed with a small
note of bitterness in her voice.

Her professor made some sort of scoffing sound somewhere in his throat.

Hermione was beginning to reevaluate exactly why she had wanted to talk to him in the first
place. She should have known he would be of no help; after all, the Potions Master had nothing but
contempt for Harry and never missed a chance to prove it. Also, this little chat wasn't making
her feel even the least bit better.

She sat there for a full minute of near silence; the only sound was Snape's quill scratching
vehemently against the parchment of homework. After a few more beats of not speaking, Hermione
decided continuing this conversation was completely pointless, and she certainly had some studying
she could do that would be a better use of her time. She stood and cleared her throat loudly,
“Well, I suppose I better head off—homework to do.” She said uncomfortably.

Snape only looked up and acknowledged her briefly before returning to his essay.

“Er…good-bye then.” She said, and then hurried from the room, feeling her evening had perhaps
been wasted.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“Potter! Weasley! Malfoy! See me after class.” Professor McGonagall's sharp voice snapped,
as her beady eyes half-glared at them through her squared spectacles.

The three Gryffindor boys looked up, two of them at least trying to appear innocent and not as
if the three of them had been having a serious tournament of rock-paper-scissors, complete with
score keeping. Ron, however, had the incapability of passing up an opportunity of being a complete
arse whenever said opportunity presented itself. “Sorry, professor, did you want in on this?” He
asked, feigning a look of concern. Draco did not even try to hide smacking Ron in the back of the
head.

Harry never realized just how much his Transfiguration professor could resemble a dragon when
her nostrils flared like the way they were now. He would not have been surprised to see flames
shooting from them.

As the rest of the class made their way to lunch, looking slightly put out and vaguely wondering
how long they would be spending in detention for their class disruption and Ron's cheek, the
Gryffindors trooped up to their Head's desk, readying themselves for the inevitable punishment
that would be dished their way.

“Sorry, Professor.” They mumbled apologetically, trying their best to look sincere.

The Transfiguration professor's eyes narrowed dangerously. “I cannot force the three of you
to take your N.E.W.T.S. seriously, but I implore you to see the significance of your upcoming exams
as they are the key to the guidance of your futures. I cannot impress upon you enough the degree of
their importance.” She stood silent for a moment, surveying her pupils, before giving them a wary
look. “However, that is not why I have called you back here. Professor Dumbledore wishes to have an
evening of entertainment of sorts, as the time of exams is drawing nearer.” As she said this, she
looked as if she did not think much of the headmaster's plans. “He has wished for me to extend
an invitation for you to play a few appropriate musical numbers in the Great Hall.” She finished,
her mouth a thin line.

Hardly daring to believe their luck, the three boys all tried to answer her at once.

“Of course!”

“Sounds bloody brilliant.”

“Hell yes!”

Everyone turned to look at Ron, whose eyebrows shot up. “Er…professor.” He quickly added.

Professor McGonagall glared reprovingly at the red-head.

“Sorry, professor. Er…it's just an expression. It's actually how the American wizards
say `of course' in a very polite manner. Just trying to bring a bit of culture.” Ron hastily
tried to explain; though, it was plain the Transfiguration professor did not believe a single
word.

She straightened her square spectacles. “Well, Mr. Weasley, I would prefer if you would keep
your foreign exploits to yourself, and must discourage you from bringing anymore of your
*colorful* culture to Hogwarts.” She advised.

Ron nodded. “Of course, professor. I understand—not everyone is ready for that sort of change.
Personally, I see no shame in those rutted in the Stone Age. I think it shows wisdom, meself.” He
added with a charming smile.

Harry may have been wrong, but he could have sworn he saw the smallest hint of a smile grace her
lips—of her mouth looked less thing, anyhow. “The headmaster would like to hold the event in a few
weeks. I will inform you of the details later. You may go.” She told them dismissively.

As they made a beeline for the door, their professor called after them, “You won't allow
this to interfere with your Quidditch practice, I expect, Potter?” She asked sternly.

Harry grinned. He knew the upcoming match was just as important to her as it was to him. “Of
course not, professor—nor with my studying for my N.E.W.T.S.” He assured her.

“Naturally.” She responded, though it was evident the exams certainly weren't on her mind,
for once.

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

“I swear, Weasley, you're the only one who can give cheek, swear at, then insult McGonagall
and not get a detention.” Draco scoffed, half-disgusted, half-impressed.

“I believe the expression is animal magnetism.” Ron replied fondly, taking a rather large bite
of his steak-and-kidney pie.

“More like being groomed by Fred and George. I was sure we were going to get a month's worth
of detentions.” Draco continued, shaking his head and looking over at Harry, who was unusually
quiet.

Harry, however, was lost to the entire conversation. Hermione had just stalked past. There was
no more denying it. He missed her very much and it was becoming increasingly difficult to continue
this battle of wills with her. He was beginning to think the whole thing was stupid, and really, in
the end, would it really matter who came groveling back to whom?

Draco followed Harry's gaze and had to suppress a bored eye roll. “Anyway,” He said loudly,
capturing some of Harry's attention, “How about this gig coming up, eh? Should be fun.”

Harry finally tore his eyes away from Hermione, who, he had a sneaking suspicion, knew he had
been watching her. “Should be.” He replied, tucking into his own lunch feeling more depressed than
he thought he ought to be.

*Can we pretend that airplanes
In the night sky
Are like shooting stars
I could really use a wish right now*

*Wish right now, wish right now*

*“AIRPLANES” B.O**.B.*

**Please review! Tell me what you think!!!!!!!!!!**

**P.S.—> The song Harry sings is “Why Don't You And I” By Santana and Chad Kroger. I
obviously do not own anything about it. Also, him singing-ish “Upendi” is a song from The Lion King
2. Great song, haha.**

**Brooke**

-->



27. Which To Bury, Us Or The Hatchet?
-------------------------------------



**Hello all. Here is chapter 26. Chapter 27 is COMPLETELY done. I'll post it next week
(unless I can be convinced otherwise by some awesome reviews (yeah, I'm a review whore like
that). I've recently started a new super short 3 shot (maybe?) that is entitled “Outlet” so
everyone should check it out. It isn't very long, so it won't take up much of your
time!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing. Harry Potter is not mine. The music isn't mine. Nothing is.
I'm very sad.**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX:** **Which To Bury, Us Or The Hatchet?**

*Try to understand there's an old mistake that fools will make
And I'm the king of them, pushing everything that's good away
Wont you hold me now (I will not bend I will not break)
Wont you hold me now (I will not bend I will not break)

I am fairly agile
I can bend and not break
Or I can break and take it with a smile
And I am so resilient
I recover quickly
I'll convince you soon that I am fine*

*“Bend And Not Break” DASHBOARD CONFESSIONAL*


*=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=*

Hermione had never realized just how boring life was without a best friend. She hadn't
exactly become best mates with Harry overnight, so naturally, she wouldn't be able to connect
with Ginny or even Luna immediately either. The two girls were nice to be around, however,
they—Ginny anyway—still had their own friends and Luna's case, odd interests. Hermione felt
awkward when Ginny's friends—who she suspected grudgingly accepted Hermione—would be around,
and if she had to listen to Luna rattle on about some fictional creature one more time…well, she
could only take Luna in short doses when the peculiar blonde began to act like that.

No, she had never been so close with someone before, never depended on someone's company so
much. A depressing void in that part of her life agitated her more than she'd care to admit.
Lightheartedly, she blamed Harry. She had always been perfectly content with her solitude before he
came along! She never realized just how much of her time he took up. She never noticed how much her
day had been devoted to him or one of his activities. She would always watch the boys play
Quidditch or Wizards Chess or even get involved herself. The first few weeks of their row, she just
pushed herself into her coursework, as she had done most of the beginning of her first term at
Hogwarts. She never thought she could *over* prepare for her N.E.W.T.S., but now she was
beginning to think she may be almost there. She had also never noticed how boring it was to study
for hours on end, *alone*. Ginny and Luna were both Sixth Years, and not only did they not
knew the material, neither ones' end-of-the-year-tests would be as grueling (nor as important)
as her N.E.W.T.S., therefore, they didn't need such preparation. Harry had always made such a
great studying partner because despite his fun-loving attitude and adventurous demeanor, he never
had a problem devoting a few hours to studying with Hermione because it was something she liked to
do. Very seldom would he complain about it. All of these thoughts drove Hermione to realize she
needed a hobby—a hobby to get over Harry.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

“So I suppose we need to get a list together of the songs we will be playing at Dumbledore's
little party then, eh?” Ron asked as he, Harry, Draco, and Jeremy gathered in an empty classroom.
Draco promptly sounded-proofed their working area.

Harry bent down to grab a notebook from his guitar case. “I've made a list of some
possibilities.” He handed it to Ron while Draco and Jeremy read over the red head's shoulder.
He watched with mild concern as Draco's face contoured into a scoff.

*“ `As Lovers Go?' `Here Without You?' `How's It Gonna Be,' `The Crow And The
Butterfly,' `I Need A Lover?!*'” Draco read in half-disgust. “Have you gone nutters?
We're not having a show dedicated to the trouble you are having with Hermione. You're going
to look pathetic, mate. I mean, even if we *were* planning on serenading Hermione, we've
never even played most of these—there isn't time to learn properly! Not to mention, they're
all covers. We normally play at least most of our own stuff, Potter. What in the bleeding hell is
wrong with you mate?”

“Blokes got a point.” Jeremy chimed in with a nod.

“What are you talking about? That isn't for Hermione. I just thought that would make a good
playlist. We can change it.” Harry replied, slightly insulted by their words.

“Damn right we are going to change it.” Ron said forcefully. “We are going to sing songs about
strippers and partying…not pathetic love songs. Sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll mate!”

“Ron, shut up. We're going to do a nice, easy-going playlist, and not something that is
going to make everyone want to kill themselves. Harry, mate, pick *one* song for Hermione. Any
more than that, you are going way overboard. `*Good Vibrations*,' bloody hell, are we the
bleeding Beach Boys?!” He asked, ripping the page from the notebook and balling it up before
setting it on fire with a flick of his wrist.

Harry began to protest, “I didn't pick any of these songs for her! I don't need one.”
Ron and Draco just stared at Harry, both with raised eyebrows. Harry sighed, “Okay, I'll pick
one.” He said, knowing they were right. As he mentally ran down the list in his head, he knew he
subconsciously picked out songs that came to mind when he thought of Hermione. What was this girl
doing to him?

“So…what are we playing then?” Jeremy piped up, looking at his fellow dorm mates.

Harry suddenly remembered talking to Luna the day before. “Oh, Luna wanted us to play a song.
She said she told her request to Ron. What was it?”

A slight blush crept over Ron's features. “Er, I can't even remember. I think Luna
changed her mind. Forget it.” He lied, fiddling with the shoulder strap on his bass. “How about…er,
shall we see Harry's list again?” He looked fruitlessly at the charred wisps of paper that used
to be Harry's list.

The other three Gryffindor boys stared at the red head. “It's no problem. What does she want
us to play?” Harry asked, trying to get the focus off his pathetic list.

“It's nothing. Forget it. I don't want to.” Ron replied, blushing even more.

A smirk slowly slid onto Draco's lips. “Ronniekins….what does your *dove* want us to
play?”

“She wanted us to play a song…and dedicate it to me.” He said uncomfortably.

“What song?” Harry asked. “Don't make me go ask her—`cause I will!” He said, heading for the
door.

Ron groaned. “Don't. Um…Hongrubeyes.” He said with a phony cough.

Jeremy leaned forward. “Sorry mate, didn't get that one?”

“Hondrubyes.” He said again, with an unconvincing sneeze.

“What?” Draco asked. “Just tell us, how bad can it be?”

Ron glowered at them all, his face redder than ever.

“Hongrubeyes?” Harry said slowly before a knowing glint caught his eye and he burst out
laughing. “Ooohh I am not singing that, especially to you!” He sudden said, choking on
laughter.

“What is it?” Draco asked, getting agitated.

“See? A bit embarrassing isn't it?” Ron sputtered. “Now can we please move on?”

“What is the bloody song?!” Draco half-yelled, eyeing Harry, who was holding his stomach in
laughter, shaking his head.

“How about *you* sing it to *her*, mate? That'll be romantic.” Harry chortled.

“Like hell is that going to happen. Can we move on, *please*?!” Ron exclaimed, getting
frustrated.

“I hate you both.” Draco said matter-of-factly, his gaze moving from his raven-haired friend to
Ron.

00000

Most of March passed by quickly for Harry as he had three things to keep him busy at all times:
Quidditch, band practice, and N.E.W.T.S. Despite his pitiful love sick puppy phase, Harry stood his
ground with a renewed vigor—or at least, a façade of one anyhow. He forced himself to decide he
would not to let his feelings get in the way of his last few months at Hogwarts, and was going to
enjoy everything the ancient school had to offer, with or without Hermione at his side. Luckily,
the upcoming weeks held a lot of distractions. Two Quidditch games left—Slytherin v. Ravenclaw; and
Gryffindor v. Hufflepuff. The Slytherin/Ravenclaw game was coming soon during the last weekend of
March before Easter holidays began, while his own game would take place three weeks later during
the third weekend of April. Harry felt as if his team had never been more ready for a game in all
his seven years at Hogwarts. It was only a matter of time before the Cup was theirs, again.

He wouldn't be returning home for the holidays, as he wanted to spend the spare time
catching up on the mountain of homework the professors had promised would be coming their way.
Also, the headmaster had decided to hold his small “celebration” before break, a way to kick off
the Easter holidays, possibly as a reprieve from the homework they would all be given. Then, just
over a week and a half later, the last Quidditch game would commence.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Hermione walked across the courtyard, her arms crossed over her chest as she tried to shield
herself from the violent wind, which drowned out most of the words coming from the trailing
Ravenclaw behind her. Oh how stupid she was for not wearing an actual coat! `*Stupid, thin fleece
jacket.'* Hermione thought bitterly to herself.

“And Harry came up to me and said Ronald wanted to play that song himself! Can you believe it?
He is *so* dreamy, that Ronald Weasley.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and replied dryly, “Oh yes, so very bloody, *fantastically*
dreamy, he is.”

Luna, however, was not put off by the obvious spite in her friend's voice. “Being so bitter
is not helping your aura, Hermione. It has been ghastly these last few weeks—awful brownish
yellows, dark greens, and muddied reds. It's a dingy mess. You're so angry, resentful,
jealous…tense!” She said, ticking her list off on her fingers as she named each depressing quality.
“Your aura has changed so much this year, it's a wonder it hasn't disappeared completely
because of all the stress you have put on it!” She spoke urgently.

Hermione gritted her teeth. “If it's all the same to you, I'd like for you not to worry
about my aura at all, *if you please*.” Hermione said as she stopped and turned to face the
girl, now that they were safe from the fierce wind and back inside the Castle.

Luna tilted her head, an almost pitied look taking over her usual surprised expression.

Hermione, noticing this, stated evenly, “*If* I really did have an aura, then I'm sure
it would be all kittens and rainbows because I am *happy*, Luna. I'm at school, right
where I want to be. I have N.E.W.T.S. coming up. I am on the brink of finishing my magical
education. I've decided to go home for Easter, so I'll be seeing my family—my parents have
a surprise for me. I've just went and seen Hagrid with *you*. *Ginny* is going to
paint my toenails later. And we're having Shepherd's Pie for dinner---what in the world do
I have to be resentful, or angry, or even bloody *jealous* about!?” Hermione demanded.

Luna gave a half-smile. “You tell me. Enjoy your pie.” She said before turning and walking down
a corridor.

Hermione pulled out her wand and aimed it at the bobbing head of the younger girl, her arm
shaking slightly. She gave a frustrated growl before thrusting her wand back in her robes and
stalking towards the Great Hall for dinner. She threw herself down beside Ginny, knocking over a
goblet of pumpkin juice. With another huff, she cleaned the mess up with a flick of her wand,
letting out a string of curse words under her breath.

Ginny raised an eyebrow. “*Really*?! Now was that necessary?” Hermione glowered at the
redhead, causing the girl to lose the grin on her face. “I guess it was?” Ginny offered, scooting
over a bit to give the ticking time bomb friend of hers a wider berth. “Do you want to talk about
it?”

“NO!” Hermione snarled angrily, piling Shepherd's Pie onto her plate.

Ginny looked over at Neville, who shrugged his shoulders.

“I swear that damn Luna Lovegood needs to be locked up in St. Mungo's!” Hermione finally
burst out, throwing her fork down and earning a few looks from surrounding students.

“That's a bit harsh.” Ginny said, casually taking the fork out of Hermione's reach and
into a safety zone.


“Yeah, I like the girl myself.” Neville put in.

Ginny turned and rounded on her boyfriend. “You like her, do you? Perhaps you'd feel more
comfortable sitting at the table of Ravenclaw then?” She asked dangerously.

Neville blushed. “You know what I mean…she's interesting.”

Ginny raised an eyebrow.

Neville swallowed uncomfortably. “Right bloody dull though. I can't think of a bigger
bore.”

Ginny giggled and leaned over to kiss Neville on the cheek before rubbing noses.

“Excuse me while I go and vomit.” Hermione said, reminding them of her presence as she leaned
over the bench and made retching noises before retrieving her fork.

Ginny turned back to Hermione. “So why are you suddenly upset with Luna? I've always thought
you liked her.”

“Because she's nutters. Going on and on about how `dingy' my aura is. Like she bloody
knows anything! `*It's ghastly*.'” Hermione mimicked with air quotes then gave a
snort.

Ginny wrinkled her nose. “Well, I wasn't going to say anything, but it could do wish a good
wash.” She said, and began to pluck the air surrounding Hermione.

“What are you doing?” Hermione asked, staring at her in bewilderment.

“Cleansing your aura, *obviously*. Don't want to offend Miss Lovegood. I don't
think we have enough pumpkin juice left on the table for you to take it out on.” Ginny said with a
laugh.


Hermione grinned, feeling better. “I'm sorry. And I suppose I ought to go and apologize, I was
rather short with her.” She said, letting out a sigh. She knew Luna wasn't trying to make her
feel bad or anything, it was just hard to hear the truth sometimes, especially when it was coming
from a girl wearing radishes on her ears.

After dinner, Hermione began to search for the strange Ravenclaw girl. Luna had told her earlier
than she was going to go in search of the reclusive Sniggity Skorksnout Shumplpump,which liked to
reside in wet conditions, so she was going to check the boathouse. Hermione looked out over the
grounds, trying to decide whether or not it was worth trucking all the way out there if there was a
good chance she wasn't there, especially with the clouds looking like they were ready to start
pouring down at any moment. It wasn't like she had anything else to do. She vaguely pondered
getting a thicker coat, but decided she didn't really care.

The fierce wind hadn't died down, and so Hermione to stuff the cherry turnover laden napkin
she brought for Luna as a peace offering in the front of her jacket She thrust her hands deep in
her pockets, leaving only her face unprotected from the biting currents of the wind. As the sunset
began to settle over the grounds, Hermione came up on the crystal glass of the boathouse. The
window on the closed door was open and she could hear voices, though only just because the whipping
wind. She had to lean forward and crouch down to hear clearly.

“So what do they look like exactly?” A male voice asked loudly.

“Oh, you know when you'll see it.” Luna's voice floated toward Hermione.

“Have you ever actually *seen* one, Luna?” Another male voice Hermione recognized
immediately.

“Oh no, but they say that if you come across one, it will bring the best of luck—unless you
already have good luck! Then, it will jinx it and you will have terrible luck.” Luna replied,
shifting something heavy and making a loud racket.

“Kind of makes you want to reevaluate the type of luck you have in your life, doesn't it?”
Ron's voice asked with a hint of mirth. “Don't want to go jinxing the good now do we?”

“Well, what kind of luck do you have, Ronald Weasley?” Luna asked and silence followed her
words, so she continued. “I have you here with me, looking for these magnificent creatures. I'd
say I'm pretty lucky.”

Hermione had to physically stop herself from laughing as she tried to get a closer look. Oh how
she would love to see the look on Ron's face!

“And you have someone to ask you to come and look for these Snoogie Doogie Dippies. She
isn't holing herself up in her room, refusing to speak to you, despite all the crap you've
caught this year for her.” Harry's voice spoke with a hint of bitterness.

Unsure why, Hermione felt a pang of guilt in her stomach.

Ron gave an uncomfortable cough. “Well I guess I don't want to find these Snorkie Snoopie
Skeeks after all.”

“Let's go see if there's any dinner left then.” Harry said, walking towards the door. “I
think it would be in all of our best interests to leave these creatures be. Don't you,
Luna?”

“Yes, I think so, but it would have been nice to see them,” she admitted with a sigh.

Hermione realized they were all moving to the open door, and quickly jumped in the bushes to
hide from their view. She tripped and got tangled up, and felt as if the bushes had swallowed her.
She watched silently as Ron, Luna, and finally Harry trudged back up the stone pathway to the
Castle, all pulling their collars up to shield their ears from the wind. She stared until the trio
was no longer in sight, when she could finally pull herself free from the thorny bushes. Hermione
felt her shoe sink into something soft and grimaced as she attempted to wipe the cherry mush from
her sneakers by dragging them on the grass. After one last quick wipe, she hurried to the
boathouse, grateful for shelter against the howling wind. Hermione settled down in one of the
uncovered boats, shivering slightly. A white mist was gathering over the lake, creating an eerie
glow. She sat in silence for several minutes, mulling over thoughts that grew more depressing with
each passing one as the sun disappeared completely and was replaced by a full moon hanging high in
the sky with no stars to keep it company.

After what felt like hours—had she dozed off?—with the moonlight as her guidance, Hermione
walked over to the door and looked back to the Castle, which looked so far away from where she was
now. She hadn't realized how dark it had gotten, or how daunting the inky blackness could look
with the exception of a bolt of lightning lighting up to sky for a few seconds, warning of a
possible storm coming. She had never been afraid of the dark, however, she had heard rumors of what
sort of creatures lurked in the Forbidden Forest, and she didn't know if they roamed the empty
grounds at night or not. Her eyes traveled over the dense blackness, and a light wasn't even on
in Hagrid's hut. Another bolt of lightning lit up the grounds for another second, then darkness
again. Another bolt, this time followed by a loud clap of thunder that caused Hermione to jump. She
reached into her jacket for her wand but found that it was missing. Panic engulfed her as she
racked her brain, trying to remember the last time she had used it. The Great Hall. She was sure
she had stowed in it her jacket prior to her journey down to the boathouse, along with Luna's
cherry turnover… A thought suddenly struck her: it must have fallen out when she jumped into the
bushes and fell over, after all, Luna's peace offering had fallen out. She tried to find the
spot where she had fallen, but the darkness had swallowed her surroundings and she didn't have
the first clue where to begin. The lightning grew more frequent as the thunder became louder. Fear
crept into her stomach as a cloud covered up the full moon, the only light she had and she slowly
backed back into the boathouse, closing the door and window tightly to block out the ferocious wind
as rain began to pour down.

What was she going to do? A vicious storm raged outside and she sat here, alone in almost
complete darkness, without her wand. She tried to calm herself as she realized how cold it had
gotten. What time was it? After midnight? She looked at her watch, but couldn't make out the
time. As if answering her silent plea, lightning lit the sky and she caught a quick glimpse of the
face of her watch, telling her it was indeed well past midnight. At a loss of what to do, Hermione
climbed back into the boat and pulled the covering up as a blanket, trying to keep out the cold
night air. For a second time that day, she mentally berated herself for not wearing a thicker coat.
Closing her eyes, she felt tears sting at her eyes. Why was she crying like a baby? She didn't
know, but she couldn't help it. Hermione felt so helpless. She was frightened, cold, and
uncomfortable. Through her tears, she stuttered to the empty room, “T-this c-c-an't be go-ood
for my a-aura.”


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Harry watched as rain pounded the window. He poured himself some water from a jug on the window
sill and just enjoyed the storm. Ron's nightly snores were drowned out by the thunder and rain.
Neville and Jeremy were both out as well. Draco was sitting up in his bed, writing a reply to his
mother's letter that sat on his bedside table.

Harry knew he ought to write his parents, but he didn't know what to say. Both had
strategically neglected to mention their findings on their visit after Christmas, and so Harry
wasn't going to broach the subject. He finally sighed and walked over to his bed. If Draco
could write his parents despite their differences, Harry didn't have any excuse. He shuffled
through his things in his trunk, pulling out various objects that began to litter the floor of the
boys' dormitory in search of his last letter from them. A particularly loud thunder clap
reminded him the weather conditions, and so he decided he would write a letter tomorrow instead, as
it wasn't like he could send it out at the moment anyhow with the storm and the time of
day.

“I think I'm going to turn in. Actually I'm going to shower first. No, I'm going to
go to bed, I will in the morning. Good night.” He called over to Draco, who yawned as he finished
signing his name.

“Alright. I'm going to shower then.” Draco put his finished letter in his drawer and grabbed
a towel and boxers.

Ten minutes later, Draco emerged into the dark dormitory, with only a few candles giving him
light. He quickly pulled on a t-shirt before toweling his hair dry.

“Fuck!” He whispered to the dark room as he stubbed his toe on something on the floor. He lit
his wand and saw that instead of putting everything back in his trunk, Harry had just shoved it
under his bed. “Bloody lazy arse!” he muttered, dropping down and carelessly tossing everything
into his friend's trunk. “Is it that hard to pick up after yourself?” He hissed to the sleeping
figure, who only grunted in his sleep in response.

Draco folded Harry's infamous Invisibility Cloak and laid it neatly in his trunk before
picking up the Marauders' Map. He loved this thing. It had kept them out of so much trouble,
not to mention that it was an impressive bit of magic.

He touched his wand tip to the faded parchment and whispered, “I solemnly swear I am up to no
good.” He grinned as ink spread like spider webs from his wand on the parchment. It was fun to see
what people were up to at this hour. Sometimes, they would see two student dots in a broom closet
or Dumbledore pacing his study for hours, just walking around in circles. More than once, they had
even seen Filch skulking around the Library with Madam Pince, and the two of them had been quite
close for about ten minutes. Honestly, Draco didn't know the squib caretaker had it in him.

His eyes roamed the map, looking for anything interesting. Snape was prowling the corridors.
Filch was in the Astronomy Tower. Black was in his chambers, moving around. Draco gave a
disappointed sigh and was about to close the map when something caught his eye. He brought his wand
tip closer to make sure he had read the name correctly. Hermione was in the boathouse. What in the
hell was she doing in the boathouse at one-thirty in the morning? He stared at her solitary little
dot, which was unmoving, for a few more seconds before clearing the map and searching for his
trousers. He looked over at the hangings that blocked Harry's bed from view, ready to wake him
before stopping himself. “Someone's gotta fix this stupid fucking mess,” he said lowly to the
darkness, reaching for a hoodie.

Draco ran down the steps that led to the boathouse, a difficult feat with the rain hammering
down the way it was. He used the flashes of light from the lightning as a guide and kept his wand
held tightly in his grip. Finally, he stopped about ten yards short of the boathouse and clutched a
stitch in his side as he finished the journey in a brisk walk. He reached for the handle and turned
it slowly, not wanting to startle her. He walked inside, wand alit. “Hermione?” He called
anxiously.

Hermione's head poked up from one of the boats, squinting in the bright light. “Draco?” She
asked, clearly taken aback from his sudden appearance. She quickly scrambled up into a sitting
position. “What are you doing here?” She asked, utter surprise etched all over her face.

Draco gave a laugh of relief. “I could ask you the same thing.”

Hermione smiled. “I'm obviously trying to enjoy a nice boat ride.” She responded feeling
lighter than she had all day. “The weather doesn't seem to want to cooperate, however.”

Draco grinned. “Need a First Mate?” He asked, and quickly closed the distance between the two
and joined her in the small boat.

Hermione look at her fellow Gryffindor and repeated in a serious tone, “But really, how did you
know I was here?”

“The map of course. I was looking at it and saw you down here. What the hell, Hermione? It's
bloody freezing out. You're going to catch pneumonia.” He warned, wrapping an arm around her.
“Don't you have a proper coat?!”

Hermione was suddenly very aware, as she allowed herself to be pulled closer to Draco and the
smell of his cologne washed over her, that this was the most she had talked to Draco, or Ron for
that matter, since the whole fiasco with Harry.

“But why are you here?” She asked quizzically.

“Because it looked like you needed someone.” He replied easily.

Hermione looked down. “Does…does Harry know?” She half-hated herself for asking. If he had
known, surely he would have rescued her himself and not send Draco. But at the same time…he
didn't owe her even that, so perhaps he would have ignored her completely. However, after
everything, Hermione couldn't believe he would treat her like that.

Draco shook his head. “No, he's asleep. I was just picking up his stuff and saw the map,
thought I'd take a look. You never know what you're going to find: two First years
wandering about the Castle, Filch getting Pince in the Library with the lead pipe, or a
troublemaker trying to nick all the boats.” He said with a wink and sly smirk.

Hermione giggled.

Now that Draco was close to Hermione and had conjured up plenty of candles, he noticed her puffy
eyes. “Have you been crying?”

Hermione shrugged. “I was scared. I just came down here looking for Luna, but she was with Ron
and Harry, and they left so I sort of stayed behind. I lost my wand in the bushes, and didn't
realize how dark it was. Honestly…I was just too scared to walk all the way back to the Castle in
the storm without my wand.” Hermione didn't know why, but Draco was so easy to talk to. She
felt like it was pointless to lie to him because he would be able to tell. His gray eyes pierced
into her soul. “It sounds silly, to be afraid, I know, but—”

He interrupted her, his tone anxious. “No, it doesn't sound silly at all, Hermione. You
never know what is going to be out on the grounds. It wouldn't have been safe to walk around
out there without you wand. Don't feel silly at all. Where is it, your wand?” He asked, craning
his neck in the direction of the door.

“Just outside the door somewhere. I fell over and got all tangled up in the brush and I think it
fell out then. I don't see when else it could have.” Hermione responded, wiping her nose.

Draco hopped out of the boat and went outside. Using a simple Summoning Charm, Hermione's
wand zoomed right into his outstretched hand. He gave it back to the rightful owner and sat back
down.

“Thanks.” Hermione murmured, allowing her hands to roam over the intricate vine-like designs
carved into her most prized possession. It was like losing a best friend.

Draco conjured two cups of steaming hot chocolate. “Okay, now that you have your wand and a safe
way back to the Castle, do you mind if I talk for a moment?” He asked, staring at Hermione
intently.

Hermione knew what he wanted to talk about. She looked back at him, drenched from head to toe,
his blonde hair messy on top of his head. She sighed and gave a meek nod. Really, it was the least
she could do.

Draco was silent for a moment, staring out at the crystal windows where fierce rain lashed
against the glass. Finally, he returned his gaze to Hermione. “What is happening between you and
Harry?”

Hermione shrugged. “Nothing.” She answered truthfully, as in reality, nothing was going on
between the two. They hadn't actually really talked in almost two months. Had it really been
that long?

The blonde cleared his throat. “What about Valentine's Day?”

Another shrug. “It was a mistake,” she croaked.

“Bullshit.” Draco said, his voice hardened, his expression fierce. For a moment, Hermione
cowered and looked away. Draco reached under her chin and slowly brought her face about to look at
him. His expression softened. “I'm sorry. I'm not good at this sort of thing. But I just
want you to understand.” He let go of her chin and hopped out of the boat and paced around it a few
times, running his hands through his hair. Then, without warning, he hopped back in the boat,
sitting so close that he was almost on top of Hermione's lap.

“Alright, I just want to tell you some things. I've been best mates with Harry since I was
eleven years old. I was a spoiled, obnoxious prat, and he and Ron befriended me and gave me a
chance. Anyway, I've known him for going on seven years now. We've hung out every summer,
been dorm mates, band mates, co-workers…just trust me when I say I know him better than anybody.”
Draco told her, his hands lightly gripping Hermione's shoulders. “Hermione, he's never had
any charm with girls—he was always all about his best friends to the point where, not going to lie,
we thought he might have been gay.” Draco said with a laugh, which earned a small giggle from
Hermione.


“Then you came along. He told us about the day in the Ministry, before he even knew who you were,
and it was more than I had ever seen him talk about a girl. Then you came to Hogwarts, and you
should have seen the excitement in his eyes when he saw you standing in line to be sorted. I know
everyone had their differences in the beginning, but he was drawn to you anyway. I know Ron and I
were gits about everything, but surely you can appreciate what Harry did. I mean, we were his best
friends—for *years*! And he was okay with having a row with us, for *you*. Then we came
to our senses. And I'm really sorry for all that, by the way.” Draco told her as an
afterthought.

“All water under the bridge.” Hermione said, looking up at Draco before he continued
passionately.

“I think Christmas almost killed him. Honestly. See, he didn't realize what it meant, the
way you had him all befuddled and mad, but I did. Then the thing with his parents—Harry has never
done anything to disappoint them, Hermione, but he did, for *you*. Do you see a pattern here?”
He asked, but didn't wait for an answer. “Harry has done so many things, for you, things he
never would have done for anyone else. He doesn't spend hours studying. He doesn't go
through the trouble of making a unicorn-drawn sleigh ride. He doesn't let just anyone ride his
Firebolt—especially someone who doesn't even know what they are doing on a damn broom! I've
seen you, Hermione, you suck.” He added, but Hermione didn't feel even remotely offended.
“Anyway…what else? Oh, and don't tell him I ever told you this, but I know I've never
walked in to him jumping on the bed, playing his guitar and singing cheesy love songs after
he's just had a fantastic snog with the girl of his dreams, Hermione.”

Hermione had to stifle a giggle. “Are you joking?!” She asked in disbelief, heat rising in her
cheeks so quickly it was as if it had been Summoned there.

Draco mimicked playing a guitar, *“'Da da da why don'**t yo**, and I get
together, something something* *take on the* *world* *and be together*
*forever, something something love sick puppy. Head we will tails we'll try again.'”*
He pulled a serious, straight face, “Gospel as Paul, Hermione. He looked ridiculous.”

Hermione didn't know what to say. Oddly, she had no problem picturing Harry doing this, but
the fact that it was over *her* just blew her mind.

“And look, I mean, I've had my share of romances, but I have never, ever felt even half the
connection that he feels with you. It's like, he always told me when we'd tease him about
not getting any girls that he was just waiting for the right one to come along, and he'd know.
Well, Hermione, he's never made this sort of effort with…well, anything except Quidditch maybe.
I know he may have come on a little strong when you guys talked after Hogsmeade, but he's a
very passionate bloke, I don't have to tell you that. But what I *am* telling you…you
aren't going to find a better bloke anywhere. He's my best friend, I love him to death, and
this last month and a half…if I have to hear his sing one more sad love song, I'm going to kill
him, Hermione, I swear I will.” He told her with a serious voice, though his eyes were
laughing.

Hermione shook her head, “Look, Draco, this is all fine and dandy. I mean, do you think I
don't feel the same? He's been a best friend to me too, and I think about him all the time.
I've never had a problem focusing on my studies or, or, or…well, I've never wanted
something so bad that I can't have, but the fact of the matter is, Voldemort and the war and—”
She began to ramble, only to have a solitary finger from Draco press against her lips, muting her
argument.

“Who are you?”

Thrown off balance, Hermione raised her eyebrows. “What?”


“Simple question. Who are you?”

“Hermione…” she said, unsure of where this was going.

“Hermione who?” He pressed.

“Hermione Granger.” she replied, still uneasy.

“Exactly. Granger. No one in the Wizarding World wants you here. Everyone thinks you are going
to be the next Voldemort. I heard you are trying to bring him back. I heard you are trying to get
close to Potter just to finish the job Voldemort couldn't.” He gave a shrug, “I heard you eat
Muggles for breakfast. But hey, where are you? What are you doing?”

“That's terrible. Are people really saying those things?!” Hermione asked in horror.

Draco snapped his fingers a few times. “You know for being so smart, you certainly have
difficultly answering simple questions. Where are you? What are you doing?”

“Hogwarts, completing my magical education.” Hermione said with a sigh.

“Whoa…you mean you aren't going to let the Wizarding World dictate who you are? Or what
you're doing?” He asked in mock surprise.


“Of course not!” Hermione said, affronted at the very thought.

“But you're going to let Voldemort. And a war that might not happen in your lifetime. Or
hell, a war that might happen tomorrow.” He said with a shrug.

Hermione didn't want to admit that she saw his point.

“Look, I'm not saying you have to get married to Harry. I'm not saying you still have to
be with him in a month, or even a week. I'm just saying, live for the fucking moment, yeah?
Life is short. I didn't let my family dictate who I became, and you shouldn't either,
whether you're on the fighting end or not. I mean, you're eighteen, he's seventeen—stop
worrying about things way above your years. You are at Hogwarts—just enjoy the magic. Hell,
*get* *shagged*! Merlin knows you both could use it!” Draco ranted on before chugging
down the rest of his now cold hot chocolate.

Hermione grinned at his hot chocolate mustache and reached over to wipe it off. She was suddenly
struck with the thought that it was no secret how Draco charmed so many girls. He was by far the
most charming person she knew, even more than Harry but in a completely different way. Harry had a
clumsy, endearing charm; while Draco had the swagger of a suave boy, but the confidence of a
knowing man—the kind of man who knew exactly what it was going to take to get what he wanted, and
he had no problem going there. Hermione knew why it must be so easy for girls to fall for him, and
the hard part was for the girls to get him to fall for them because honestly, who was good enough
to win his heart?

Hermione shook away those dangerous thoughts, because she knew she was not attracted to Draco
like that. She never got any male attention, so now, with Draco being so smooth, it was too easy to
get lost in him. No, what she wanted wasn't too easy, though Draco's words certainly made
it seem like it was.

“Hermione? You okay? You've been silent for a few minutes now.” Draco said, waving a hand in
front of her face.

Hermione shook her head. “Yeah, just…thinking.” She said, shrugging her shoulders, trying to
hide her blushing face.

“Well, how about we think inside? Let's get the hell out of here.” He said, hopping out of
the boat and offering Hermione a hand, which she took after a few seconds of hesitation. Draco
began to pull his shirt off, to which Hermione quickly intervened. “Whoa, what are you doing?” She
asked, feeling her face flush yet again for what felt like the tenth time tonight as his bare skin
was in sight for a fleeting second.

“Well, I figured I'd give you my hoodie to wear, seeing as how it's raining hippogriffs
out. Don't worry, chivalry isn't exactly dead to everyone.” He said, handing her his
almost-dry sweatshirt.

“No! I have a jacket. You'll be the one with pneumonia!” she protested.

“I'll be fine—I'm a hot-blooded male, Hermione.” He reminded her with a wink, offering
her his sweatshirt again, which she took gingerly this time. What was wrong with her? She eased it
on, unconsciously ensnared by his scent. It was very different from Harry's, how had she never
noticed it before? Harry always smelled intoxicating, like something she could bury her nose in all
day long. Draco had a scent that was almost a sin to be in the presence of and was, dare she say
it, *sexy*? Her cheeks warmed again.

“Alright, are you ready?” He asked, holding out a hand. Hermione had to steady her trembling
hand as she took his. “We're going to have to make a run for it. Just let me know if you need
to stop.” Draco called over the thunder as he opened the door.


Hermione looked out upon a scene similar to the one she had looked out on just a few hours ago, but
this time, as Draco's warm hand was enclosed over hers, she didn't feel any uneasiness at
all.

Draco started off on a brisk jog, not wanting to run too fast for Hermione. She kept up well
enough, though after only a few minutes, she needed to slow down for a bit before they took off
again, laughing in the rain. Draco exercised regularly and running was his core workout, so
finally, after they had slowed down for the third time, Draco finally lifted Hermione over his
shoulder and started jogging for the paved courtyard, where they would be sheltered under the stone
ceiling of the walkways.

Hermione laughed loudly at being handled like a rag doll and held on to Draco's drench
shirt. “Are you sure I'm not too heavy?” She called cheerfully over his shoulder.

“`Course not.” He called back, and demonstrated so by jogging in a few circles before breaking
into a run for the courtyard. Once he met the wall of the courtyard, instead of running all the way
down to the entry way, he hoisted Hermione over the wall to the safety of the shelter of the
pathways before easily jumping the wall himself. Once he cleared the wall, he picked Hermione back
up and jogged down the long path to a door that led into the Castle. “*Alohomora*.” Hermione
breathed with her wand pressed against the handle before Draco rushed them inside and finally put
Hermione on her feet.

The dark hall was empty, and lit by a few waning torches that cast long shadows on the wall.
Neither Gryffindor dared to produce a Lumos Spell, Draco grabbed her hand and quickly but quietly
led her across the small hall into a corridor, which they took at a jog before Draco stopped and
pulled her off to a narrow corridor. He led them about halfway down the corridor before stopping
abruptly. He pressed his wand against a stone in the wall and muttered some sort of password, and
Hermione could hear a small archway melt away to create an entrance. He hastily pulled her through
and led her up a very skinny set of stone steps that spiraled upwards. They followed this shortcut
up to the Fifth Floor, where they stealthily crept up to Gryffindor Tower.

“I really appreciate you coming and getting me, Draco.” Hermione said, pushing her hair from her
face, slightly breathless.

Draco cracked his charming smirk. “No problem, always ready to help a damsel in distress.”

Hermione smiled back.

“So what are you going to do about Harry?” Draco asked bluntly.

Hermione looked up to meet his intense gaze as she thought about her answer. “Draco…look,
everything you said was great and all, but he really hurt me with what he said. After the fact, I
was ready to forgive him in a heartbeat, once I cooled off. But that was then. It's been going
on two months and he hasn't shown even the tiniest bit of remorse. What he said…about me
running away from everything…it really hurt, and it just isn't true.” Hermione told him,
unconsciously hugging herself tightly.

Draco was silent for a moment and stared at the girl in the dim light. He wrapped his arms
around her, resting his chin on top of her head. After a few seconds, and leaned down so his lips
were only inches from her ear. The blonde whispered softly, “What do you call what you've been
doing? Maybe he isn't the one who should be showing remorse and apologizing.” With that, Draco
disentangled himself from her before he disappeared behind the door leading to the Boys'
Staircase, leaving Hermione alone in the Common Room, feeling slightly affronted, and slightly
guilty.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

*Now that I know what I'm without,
You can't just leave me.
Breathe into me and make me real.
Bring me to life.

(Wake me up)
Wake me up inside.
(I can't wake up)
Wake me up inside.
(Save me)
Call my name and save me from the dark.***

*“Bring Me To Life” EVANESCENCE*


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Slytherin had slaughtered Ravenclaw in their last match, which wasn't exactly an upset, but
the rival won by a larger margin than Harry was expecting. This put Slytherin in the lead for the
Quidditch House Cup; however, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff both still had their last game. Harry's
hopes were still high, and he was not deterred even the slightest in Slytherin's win. No, it
was Hufflepuff that he was worried about, as he had been taught by his first Team Captain Oliver
Wood to *never* underestimate the opposing team, whether they were Ireland's finest or a
gang of First Years.

The game weighed heavy on the Gryffindor House Team's mind, especially the Captain's. He
worried that the team would lose focus over Easter break. Also, Dumbledore's small celebration
would prove to be a distraction. Harry wished desperately that the Headmaster would have held off
until after exams, or at least, until after the last match. He wanted his team to keep their eyes
on the cup. However, he just had to use the weekdays after the holidays and the last weekend before
the match—despite their noses being rubbed raw against the grindstone of homework the professors
insisted on assigning them—to ensure that his team practiced their hearts out. As Harry's mind
buzzed with new special plays and every possible bad situation the team could run in to before the
match, his feet carried him down the stone staircases on the familiar pathway to the Great Hall for
breakfast. He was halfway across the Entrance Hall when a sight before him caused him to slow down
to a stop, all thoughts of Quidditch gone.

Hermione smiled half-heartedly at Draco as she handed him back his sweatshirt. “Thanks. I…I
really appreciate what you did last night. You didn't have to come out there and get me like
that.”

Draco returned her smile with his trademark heartbreaker smirk. “Who am I to let a damsel in
distress be stuck in a boathouse all alone during a storm? Hell who am I to let a beautiful woman
be all alone at night?” He flirted suavely, taking her hand and tipping his head in her direction
as a mock bow.

Hermione's face took on an embarrassing flush. “I never knew you were so chivalrous, Mr.
Malfoy,” she replied back, giving a slight curtsy. After a few seconds, Hermione grew more serious.
“And the talk…thanks, I really needed that. I haven't really been able to talk to someone like
that since…well, let's just say it's been awhile.” She admitted, as her conversations with
Ginny and Luna never had that sort of substance.

“I just hope you think about what I said. I don't think you realize what you mean to him,
and how much this is driving him mad. Just…promise me you'll really think about what I said?”
He asked, using his fingertips to lift her chin so his gray eyes pierced hers.

Hermione drew back. “I will—I have. I mean, I think that maybe…I dunno. Right now, I guess I
don't know what I think.” She said, running a hand through her hair, at a loss for words.

Draco gave her a genuine smile as he reached over and fixed her hair. “That's okay. You
don't have to have the answers all the time, only about ninety percent of the time.”

Hermione scoffed. “I'd say more about ninety-seven percent, thank you very much.” She
retorted with a friendly shove.

“Hello. Am I missing all the fun?” A voice spoke behind the two, causing them to spin around to
see the intruder. There stood Harry with a tight, forced smile and blazing emerald eyes.

“Harry.” Hermione breathed in acknowledgement, slightly surprised by his sudden appearance. She
hated when he snuck up on her like that.

“Hello there, mate.” Draco greeted, nodding his head in his direction.

“So what's all this about?” Harry asked, still with a slightly manic expression.

Draco looked taken aback by his friend's cold behavior. “What are you on about?” He asked,
concerned.

“Oh, I dunno. Just wondering what was so bleeding cheerful about today that brought out the
smiles in everybody. I could use some merriment if you're just handing it out—go on.” Harry
urged, crossing his arms across his chest.

Draco picked up his book bag from the floor. “Well, you can start by pulling the stick out your
arse and go from there.” He said, putting the strap over his shoulder. “See you, Hermione.” He
waved as he headed for the Great Hall.

Harry and Hermione stood in silence for a few moments before Harry repeated bluntly, “So what
was that about?”

Hermione looked affronted at Harry's sudden rude actions. “Excuse me?” She asked
incredulously.

“What's with all the touching and laughing and, and, and…and the giving him back his
clothes?!” Harry shot back angrily, gesturing in the general direction of said sweatshirt.

“I don't believe it is any of your business, Potter.” Hermione angrily replied, standing up
to her full height, her angry eyes only inches from his. She hadn't been this close to him in
awhile.

A small audience had gathered in the Entrance Hall as people slowed their walk to the Great
Hall, their interest spiked by this heated conversation.

“None of my business?” Harry repeated, towering over her in an intimidating fashion and not the
least bit nervous as she pulled out her wand. “I just didn't know the two of you were so close.
Why did you have his sweatshirt?” He asked, not bothering to keep the accusation from his
voice.

Hermione's eyes narrowed as a devilish smirk crept over her lips. Taking a step forward, she
taunted suggestively, “*Use your imagination, Potter*.” And with that, she swiftly swung her
book bag over her shoulder and exited the Entrance Hall, her footsteps echoing loudly in the silent
room.

Harry was rooted to the spot by her words, fury raging within him. Just who in the fuck did she
think she was? In his fuming daze, he caught sight of all the onlookers staring at him, most with
amused expressions. “Clear off before you all get the fu—just bloody clear off!” He half-shouted,
whipping his wand out. The crowd quickly scattered, as Harry's admirable performance in hexing
was quite common knowledge. Once everyone had gone, Draco appeared at the doors of the Great Hall
with Ron by his side, both looking concerned.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

*Think twice before you touch my girl
Come around I'll let you feel the burn
Think twice before you touch my girl
Come around come around no more*

*“Think Twice” EVE 6*


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

“What are you going on about out here?” Draco asked, closing the distance between the two of
them. “What—”

Harry cut him off, grabbing the front of his robes. “What was that? What's going on between
you and Hermione?” He asked threateningly.

Draco shoved him off. “Ease up. What are you talking about?”

Harry gave a cold laugh. “All the touching and talking and her having your clothes. You two
looked quite chummy,” he accused.

“What? I don't know what you are talking about. We were just talking. I didn't know that
was a crime.” Draco shot back, taking a menacing step towards Harry.

Ron stared between the two, having no grip on the situation at all. However, noticing how
quickly things were heating up, he put his arms out between the two before matters escalated any
further. “Whoa whoa whoa. Okay, what is bloody going on here? Draco, are you trying to take
Harry's girl?” He asked, surprised.

“What if I was? Apparently he isn't man enough to just let things go.” Draco spat, his anger
getting the better of him.

Harry pushed Ron out of the way and threw a punch at his best mate. Draco blocked most of it and
staggered for only a second before he grabbed Harry around the middle so Harry's head was
buried into Draco's stomach.

“Hey hey hey! Blimey, what is wrong with you two?!” Ron asked, running between the two again.
Finally, he used his wand to spring the two apart and causing them to fall to the floor. Both of
his best friends were breathing heavily.

“I can't believe you.” Harry sputtered, forcing himself into a sitting position.

“Fuck you, Potter. Your shit is your shit. Leave me the fuck out of it.” Draco retorted,
standing up and spitting blood. Obvious contempt was etched on his face as he turned to walk
away.

“You and Hermione getting all cozy behind my back, and you *know* how I feel about her. But
you don't care—girls are just fucking expendable to you.” Harry spoke nastily, glaring at the
back of the blonde's head.

His words caused Draco to stop in his tracks. “You don't even know what you are talking
about, Potter. If I were you, I'd be careful about the next words that come out of your mouth.
Trust me, get *out of it*.” He didn't even bother turning around.

Harry fired back, “Then why did she have your clothes? She said…she said, well she fucking
*implied* you two were shacking up.”

Ah, there it was. Draco was grateful he still had his back to Harry so his friend didn't see
him crack a smile at Hermione's actions. Baiting him further, he finally slowly turned around
to see the mess of a man crumpled on the stone floor, his eyes begging for Draco to say that it
wasn't true. Seeing his best friend in this much mental pain stopped the vengeful retort in
Draco's throat. Finally, he sighed. “She was probably winding you up because you came out here,
all Johnny Arsehole and fucking flipping out. And she had my hoody because…well it's not
important. It was raining outside, so being a bloody gentlemen, I let her use it—not because
I'm fucking her.” His hard expression softened and he offered a helping hand to the
dark-haired, brooding young man. “You know I would never do that to you mate.” He said honestly,
slightly hurt that Harry would even consider it.

Harry took his hand and pulled himself up. “I know. I just-” He ran a hand through his hair.
“You know she has me on fucking edge. And I just saw and…” He trailed off.

“And had to balls-up, as per usual. I know. It's cool, just…hit me again, and I'm coming
after you full throttle.” Draco warned.

Harry picked up his book bag. “Oh fuck off, will you?” He said, laughing.

Ron stared at his two best friends, making sure they were both in fact good. “So how about we go
back to breakfast? *And will someone please fucking fill me in here*?!”

The three boys made their way across the Entrance Hall. “So what did she say about me?” Harry
couldn't help but ask.

00000

“Potter, I had several complaints about your behavior this morning.” Professor McGonagall told
Harry, her expression most severe.

Harry tried to contort his face into a look that mirrored remorse, while also resentfully going
through the students in his head, wondering who would turn him in. “I know, professor. I just lost
my head for a moment. Between N.E.W.T.S. and Quidditch…I just haven't been myself lately and
apparently a ticking time bomb. I'm really sorry.” He said apologetically while his mind
shouted that it had probably been some ruddy Slytherins.

His Head of House's stony features did not soften. “Be that as it may, Potter, as Head Boy,
you are expected to conduct yourself with a particular sense of poise and composure. Threatening
the other students, the use of foul language towards said students, arguing in the Great Hall with
Mr. Malfoy then engaging in physical combat—it is embarrassing not only to Gryffindor house, but to
Hogwarts itself. If you cannot handle the stresses of Head Boy and you Captaincy…these privileges
can easily be revoked, Potter. Do you need these pressures to be lifted to ensure the safety of the
other students?” She threatened.

Harry quickly shook his head. “It won't happen again, professor. I can handle it. I'm
really sorry.” He apologized a second time, lowering his eyes to the floor.

“Ten points from Gryffindor, and detention on Saturday morning. My office. And because you have
chosen such a bad week to get detention, I expect you there at 6:00 a.m. so it can get taken care
of before break begins.”

Harry nodded, feeling resigned. “Of course, professor.”


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Hermione tried to make herself feel angry. She wanted to be livid at Harry's behavior. On
the surface, she was. However, deep down, she knew her heart wasn't in it. She felt…drained.
Hermione had been angry with him for so long, she felt tired of the feeling. If she was honest with
herself, seeing him act so jealous…it was slightly adorable. She looked around the Library, almost
bored with the irritated emotions bubbling inside of her. Closing her book (*Most Advanced Charms
for the Most Advanced* *Charmer*), and simply crossed her arms over the cover and allowed
for her head to drop onto of them, her eyes closed peacefully.

She would be going home for the Easter holidays, which was a relief. She really needed a break.
The promise of an immense load of homework by the professors had been carried through to the tee,
however, as they had assigned it all at the beginning of this last week before break, Hermione had
finished it all—it wasn't like she had anything else to do. With no homework, no Harry, and
nothing else to keep her mind buzzing, Hermione just tried to enjoy of prospect of nothingness.
However, even the prospect of going home could not cover up the pain she was feeling ever more by
the growing void in her life. She sighed, missing him.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

*So let it be what it'll be
Don't make a fuss and get crazy over you and me
Here's what I'll do
I'll p**lay it* *loose
Run like we have a day with destiny

It's just a little crush (crush)
Not like I faint every time we touch
It's just some little thing (crush)
Not like everything I do depends on you*

*“Crush” JENNIFER PAIGE*


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

“I'll mention to her that I could use some help Saturday morning and maybe she will let you
have detention with me.” Sirius told his Godson, frowning slightly.

Harry shook his head. Sirius had bailed him out of more detentions that he could count. And
after his behavior toward Hermione earlier that morning, he knew he deserved to be up on a Saturday
at that Godforsaken hour. “No, it's fine. I just…I dunno. I feel so…worn, you know? I've
been trying to just get on with it, enjoy the last of my time here at Hogwarts, but she is ruining
it, without even doing anything!” Harry said accusingly.

Sirius smiled. “Well perhaps going home on break will be a nice little vacation.” He said
knowingly.

Harry sighed. “I'm not going home. With the way things were left when they were here, I
think that would just add stress and honestly, I don't feel like getting into a row every other
day.”

“You need a break. Go to my house then. Some solitude will do you good, I think.” Sirius
offered, sitting up from his chair.

The idea did have merit. Harry gave a noncommittal shrug accompanied with, “Maybe.” He looked at
his watch and groaned. “Thanks. I've got to get going. The guys want to practice every day this
week for Dumbledore's stupid party. Honestly, I don't think I've ever been less excited
to play in my life.” He said bitterly, the previous vigor of getting the opportunity to play had
worn off quickly as his mood slunk deeper and deeper into depression with his row with Hermione.
“It's okay though,” He said optimistically, “I've got a rigorous plan ahead for the next
week: Classes, band practice. Quidditch, then Quidditch strategy.” He said solemnly. “That
shouldn't leave much room for thinking about Hermione.”

Sirius gave a half-hearted grimace. “It sounds like it doesn't leave a lot of room for
anything else, really.”

Harry ignored him. “Time will fly by.” He said, more to himself. *Classes, band practice,
Quidditch, Quidditch strategy*. He repeated in his head forcefully.

*Classes, band practice, Quidditch, Quidditch strategy*.

And that was what he did. The further Hermione got to him, the more he focused in the class, the
louder he practiced, the harder he pushed himself and his team on the field, and the more strategic
his plays became. His goal was Saturday afternoon. By Saturday afternoon, he would be on the beach.
Dumbledore's little party would be over, most of his homework would be done, his detention
would be finished, and he would no longer be at Hogwarts. Saturday afternoon.

Rushing through the week had been too good to be true. There had to be some sort of payment for
being so lucky. Friday was that payment. Every minute of every hour crawled by. His focus had been
stretched so much that he didn't have enough to make it through the day. His eyes burned but
his skin chilled. His body ached but his mind was numb. His stomach felt as if he had eaten too
much when he hadn't eaten anything, but his mouth begged for something to drink. Polar
opposites rocked his body, making him severely uncomfortable. He couldn't sedate one need
without provoking another. It was quite possibly the longest day of his life.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Hermione never felt more ready to go on a break. She missed her family dearly, and was ready to
go home. Her parents had said they had a surprise for her, a big one. She smiled as she dug into
her cereal, not paying much attention to the morning post. Ginny idly chatted beside her, including
Hermione every few minutes. Harry was sitting at the other end of the table, brooding over
something. Hermione tried to ignore the urge to comfort him, and instead slowly pushed her Cheerios
around in her bowl, not feeling as hungry as she had been a few minutes ago.

Miguel dropped down in front of her, a large, bulging envelope attached to his leg. He lifted
his leg to her, allowing her to quickly untie it before he helped himself to her toast. Hermione
recognized her mother's handwriting across the front, and ripped open the light envelope.
Something soft spilled out onto the table, a piece of fabric of some kind. Slightly confused,
Hermione picked it up to examine the gift. After a few seconds, realization dawned on her: it was a
beret.

0000000

“So you're going to France?!” Ginny gushed excitedly. “Do you even speak French?” She asked
quizzically.

Hermione shook her head. “No, but my mother does. She studied there before she went to medical
school. And my parents went there on their honeymoon. She always said she wanted to take me. I
mean…it fits, right?” Hermione asked anxiously.

Ginny nodded optimistically. “Make sure you take lots of pictures! Oh I'm so jealous!” She
screeched, hugging Hermione.

Hermione laughed at her excitement. One would think it was Ginny going to France and not
herself.

“Anyway, so classes are ending early, so we should have plenty of time to get ready for
tonight.” Ginny carried on, as if continuing from an earlier conversation that Hermione certainly
did not remember.


“Get ready for what?” She asked, already knowing that she did not want to know the answer.

“To*night*.” The red-head said exasperatedly. “Please try and keep up, Hermione.” She
chided.

Once again, Hermione rolled her eyes at her friend. “Ginny, there is hardly anything to even get
ready for.” She reminded her yet again. “It's just dinner.”

“It is a *party*.” Ginny corrected her.

Hermione ignored her and walked towards her next class.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Harry fiddled idly with his guitar in a chamber just off the Great Hall. He could hear the other
students laughing and chatting loudly in the next room. He tried to muster up some excitement, but
found there was nowhere in his body keep a secret supply he could use for the next two hours or so.
He ran through the set list for the tenth time, not because he didn't know it by heart already,
but just for something to do. He allowed for his eyes to wander around the room, looking for
something that needed done, but there was nothing. Nothing. He had never been so prepared for a
show before. Nothing was left unchecked. Once again, not because he wanted it to be perfect, but he
just needed something to take his mind off everything else.

“I've got a little present blokes. Gather round, gather round.” Draco said, coming into the
room with two vials, a large one filled with an electric blue substance while a much smaller one
filled with something that was a bright sunshiny yellow color. He conjured four large shot glasses
from thin air and poured a generous measure of the attractive blue potion in each one before
filling them to the brim with a shot of the happy-looking yellow liquid. “Just a little something
to get the ball rolling, so to say. Get the blood pumping.” He explained as they all watched the
potions hiss together to make a lime green color. Each of the boys took one. Draco held his up in a
toast. “To seven of the best years of our lives. We've all had good times together, some better
than others,” he said with a laugh, a meaningful look in Harry's direction, “But in all
honesty…there isn't a single moment I would trade for anything. I love you guys. No better
blokes in the world could be found.” He finally said, looking at each of them in the eyes.

“We love you too.” Harry said, coming out as a slight croak.

The four boys drained their shots in unison, the adrenaline almost instantaneous.

00000000000

Hermione didn't want to go. She would much rather go to the Kitchens and see if Dobby liked
her enough to help her find something for dinner, or at least let her nose around and make
something herself. However, Ginny wouldn't have any of it. She all but pushed Hermione from the
Common Room, already frustrated that Hermione was being too difficult to let Ginny do much with her
appearance. Hermione had outright refused to wear the dress Ginny begged for her to wear, she
wouldn't let Ginny trying to straighten her hair, and only after the redhead's much
insisting did Hermione grudgingly agree to put a little makeup on (as long as she did it herself).
She felt good when she looked in the mirror in a simple pair of jeans and long sleeve orange shirt,
her hair pulled back into a messy ponytail. She didn't look like she was going to a party at
all. Hell, she could be running up the street to the store.

Her game plan was simple, and as soon as she stepped into the Great Hall, Hermione was elated by
how easy it would be to put into action. Ginny would not hang on her arm all night, Hermione knew
this. She was too much of a social butterfly for that. Once Ginny would leave her side, Hermione
would make a beeline for the door. Ginny would try to find her, but it was so crowded that she
would give up. Round tables took up half the Great Hall, while a small stage had been erected on
one wall. There was a large space for people to gather in front of the stage, perhaps even dance if
the music was right.

Hermione only had to endure Ginny for fifteen minutes, before she said something about finding a
friend from Hufflepuff, and Hermione found her escape. “Okay, I'm going to go see if I can find
Luna. If you see her, tell her I'm looking for her.” Hermione shouted over the noise of
everyone talking loudly, and finally, was away from Ginny and Neville. She watched as Harry and his
mates began to climb onto the stage, all looking in high spirits. She quickly turned and pushed
herself towards the doors.

The castle was mostly deserted, and she only came across a few stranglers who were running late.
It seemed like Hermione was the only one not in the mood to party. She wandered through the
corridors idly, not wanting to return to Gryffindor Tower. Every once in awhile she caught the
sound of a familiar singing voice, but she mostly just ignored it.

She wished desperately that she could throw away her pride and make this right. However, she was
never one to do that sort of thing. She was never often the one to make things right, mostly
because things didn't seem to matter enough to her to be the one to make the first move. With
Harry, she tried to convince herself that wasn't the case. She cared just as much as he did,
she knew this. So why was she always running from him? Why was she hiding here in a lonely corridor
instead of celebrating with her friends? She didn't have answers to her depressing questions,
and for once, she didn't really care to have them. It didn't matter. It didn't change
anything. It wouldn't change how anyone felt, and it certainly wouldn't change the damned
situation she managed to put herself in.

Harry had called her out on always running away all the time, and what upset her the most now,
is that she knew he had been right on the money.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

*How to lie to yourself and thereby to everyone else
How to keep smiling when you're thinking of killing yourself
How to know them all too well to avoid going within
How to stay stuck in your life blaming them for everything*

*I'll teach you all this in 8 easy steps
In the course of a lifetime, you'll never forget
I'll show you how to in 8 easy steps
I'll show you how leadership looks when taught by the best*

*“8 Easy Steps” ALANIS MORISSETTE*


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Harry strummed the last chord of his song and let the screeching of the final note ring in
through the Great Hall. After a moment of silence, the crowd burst into applause. Harry grinned
widely and looked over the faces of the guys beside him, each shining with excitement. The effects
of Draco's potions had been a success. He felt on top of the world, and never had he played so
well. It had been just the right pick-me-up—adrenaline mixed with a shot of euphoria.

After the cheering died down some, Harry cleared his throat. “Now this next one is a special
number, dedicated to a very special little lady out there. She may not realize just how much she
means to a certain bloke, but perhaps this will make that a little clearer.” He said with a wink.
He stepped back a few steps, letting Ron take center stage. As much as Ron had fought this, Harry
knew he would enjoy it. With having Fred and George as brothers, Ron never had a chance to be shy
around a crowd. Not to mention under the jubilation influence of the mixed potions, Harry was sure
Ron would relish the attention

Grinning and only slightly pink around his ears, Ron grabbed the mic prop (as it wasn't
really necessary). Clearing his throat, waited for the music to start. “*I've been meaning to
tell you, I've got this feelin' that won't subside….I look at you and
I….fantasize….You're mine tonight….Now I've got you in my sights, with these….Hungry
eyes—one look at you and I can't disguise! I've got…hungry eyes—I feel the magic between
you and I*!” Ron sang, his voice growing louder as his confidence soared even further.

Harry had to force himself to stop snickering after he missed a note. He looked out at the
crowd, searching for Luna. Once he found her, he found her face absolutely glowing—not at all like
her common mildly surprised expression. He allowed his eyes to scan for Hermione yet another time
that evening, but once again, found he could not make out her bushy brown heedful of hair anywhere
in the crowd. He tried not to let her absence affect him. Even if they were fighting, this
didn't seem like something she would miss, not for him. With an inward sigh, Harry felt the
effects of Draco's concoction wear off as if its influence was simply leaking from his shoe. He
knew there was no way the euphoric effects should be going away just yet, and knew it must have
just been his system fighting it because really, did he want to be happy without her?

Pushing those thoughts away, Harry tried to focus. This was important to the guys, and he would
not blow it. Concentrating on the memorized music, he sang the notes in his head, making sure he
didn't miss a one.

*“I feel the magic between you and I…I've got hungry eyes, now I've got you in my
sights with those hungry eye—now did I take you by surprise……….I need you to see…….This love was
meant to be.”*


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Hermione never paid much attention to where her feet carried her as she moseyed around the
castle, trying to her head clear of all thoughts. With surprise, she found herself standing in
front of the open doors leading to the Great Hall. How had she missed the loud music? Without
giving her mind the chance to object, she pushed herself forward, into the large room. People were
milling around, some standing in front of the stage, worshiping the band; others were dancing here
and there. There was a large buffet-style table against one wall, still littered with food.
Hermione moved other to the table and surveyed the remaining grub. She picked up a few finger
sandwiches and grabbed a butterbeer. Only when she looked up at the stage did she start laughing.
Ron was dancing with the mic stand, looking half-drunk, singing at the top of his lungs. He pointed
out in the crowd at a small blonde standing in the center of the crowd who Hermione recognized as
Luna Lovegood. Hermione's laughs died down to a genuine smile. She quickly ate the small
sandwiches before pushing herself toward the Ravenclaw, suddenly eager for her zany company.

“Luna!” She squealed, greeting the girl with a half-hug, which Luna earnestly returned.


“There you are! Ginny said you were looking for me, but I told her I think you might have stepped
out. You missed almost the whole show!” Luna reprimanded. “Where have you been?” She asked.

Hermione laughed at the girl's natural intuitive tendencies, feeling suddenly light. “It
doesn't matter. Just needed some fresh air.”

The girl's blue eyes pierced Hermione for a second before Luna turned her attention back to
Ron's performance.

Hermione sipped her butterbeer and let her eyes linger on Harry, who looked like he was
concentrating with a little bit of difficulty. However, as if he could feel her eyes one his, his
head suddenly snapped up and looked directly at her. Hermione only held his eyes for a second
before scanning the rest of the stage. She felt her cheeks warm at him catching her staring. She
fought the urge to rush towards him. Her reasons for refusing him seemed distant and trivial now as
desperation for his company consumed her.

Ron's song drew to a close quickly, and Harry took over again. He cleared his throat, and
went straight into his next song, his eyes looking above Hermione's head. For the next few
songs, Hermione tried to catch his eye, but he neglected to look her way. Hermione waved to Draco,
who grinned at her in response. An unfamiliar excitement began to course through her, as she
watched Harry. She felt as if something was coming to an end, while something new was beginning.
Perhaps, it was close.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Harry tried to keep his eyes from meetings hers again. He didn't understand. He wanted her
here, right? But now her presence made him feel uncomfortable and flustered. He had one last song.
Now that it was time to play it, he wasn't sure if he could. Draco said he had one song, one
song to play for her. He had racked his brain, played through every song he could think of, trying
to find one that fit. He tried to write one, but no words came to him. Nothing. It had been very
frustrating. Then he heard it. And it was perfect. How could he have missed that one?

He coughed. “This will be our last one. You guys have all be brilliant. I'd like to thank
Professor Dumbledore for giving us this opportunity—it's been amazing. Thank you. Um, we
didn't write this last one, but…it's pretty good. Enjoy. Thanks again.” Harry started
playing, everyone else following suit. Nerves made his fingers start to tremble and he missed a few
notes. He stopped. Feeling his face flush slightly, he mumbled a quick apology before starting
again, a different song at his finger tips. None of the other band members had joined in, confused
by his sudden change. They'd catch up. They all knew this one. Finally, he let his eyes center
one Hermione.

“*It's never enough to say I'm sorry….it's never enough to say I care….But I'm
caught between what you wanted from me, and knowing that if I give that to ya, I might just
disappear. Nobody wins when everyone's losing….Oh it's like*,” Harry sang softly,
vaguely aware everyone else had finally joined in. “*One step forward and two steps back, no
matter what I do you're always mad, and I can't change your mind….It's like trying to
turn around on a one way street, I can't give you what you want and it's killing me and
I…I'm starting to see, maybe we're not meant to be.*” His voice grew stronger, his eyes
never leaving Hermione's. Her brown eyes were wide and he could see the hurt there.
“*It's never enough to say I love…no, it's never enough to say I try. It's hard to
believe that there's no way out for you and me, and it seems to be the story of our life.”*
Harry suddenly stopped as he watched Hermione turn and make a beeline for the door. He was making
her feel terrible, he knew. The others behind him slowed down to a stop as well more confused than
ever. The audience looked around at each other, oblivious to what was really going on.

Harry forced a small smile outwardly, while internally trying to figure out what would help the
situation. “Sorry, I seemed to have forgotten that one. Um, how about another?” He asked, and
before anyone could say anything, he started up again, his fingers strong this time. “*You used
to talk to me like I was the only one around. You used to lean on me like the only other choice was
falling down. You used to walk with me like we had nowhere we needed to go, nice and slow, to no
place in particular**—**we used to have this figured out; we used to breathe without a
doubt—when nights were clear, you were the first star that I'd see. We used to have this under
control, we never thought—we used to know: at least there's you, and at least there's me.
Can we get this back? Can we get this back to how it used to be*?” Harry's voice was loud
and strong, his eyes following Hermione through the crowd. She had slowed her pace, though her back
was to him still. By the time he sang through the next verse and chorus again, she was at the door,
her arms crossed, gazing out at the Entrance Hall, refusing to turn around.

Harry put all of his heart in his voice, trying to make her understand. “*I look around me and
I want you to be there `cause I miss the things that we shared. Look around you. It's empty and
you're sad, `cause you miss the love that we had*…” His voice softened. “*You used to talk
to me like I was the only one around—the only one around*!” He picked up the tempo again, his
eyes never leaving the back of her head, pleading for her to turn back around.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Hermione waited for his song to end. All of her excitement was gone. She felt like an empty
shell as she was faced with what she had put him through, and in turn, what he was now putting her
through. Why had he done this to her? Didn't he already know how horrible she felt? Didn't
he know she wanted nothing more than to run up there and throw her arms around his neck and cry—cry
for him, cry for herself, cry for her own stupidity? She felt tears slowly slide down her cheeks,
grateful no one was paying any attention to her. Once the final note was played, without looking
back, she quickly left the Great Hall, sprinting toward Gryffindor Tower—regretting every step she
took because it was away from him. She did what she did best: run away.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

*I'm only pretty sure*

*T**hat I can't take anymore
Before you take a swing
I wonder
What are we fighting for
When I say out loud
I want to get out of this
I wonder
Is there anything I'm going to miss*

*
I wonder How it's going to be
When you don't know me
How's it going to be
When you're sure I'm not there
How's it going to be
When there is no one to talk to,*

*B**etween you and me
'Cause I don't care
How's it going to be
How's it going to be*

*Where we used to laugh
There's a shouting match
Sharp as a thumbnail scratch
A* *silence I can't ignore
Like t**he hammocks by the doorway*

*We spent time in, it swings empty,*

*D**on't see lightning like last fall* *when it was always*

*About to hit* *me*

*“How's It Gonna Be” THIRD EYE BLIND*


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Harry sat at an empty table, pushing food around on his plate. He was angry at Hermione for
leaving. He was angry at himself for making her leave. He wanted to follow, to tell her he
wasn't trying to hurt her, but dammit, didn't she know how much she hurt him? After a few
more minutes of sitting there, Harry finally trudged up to Gryffindor Tower and let himself fall
straight on his bed, barely bothering to pull his clothes off. He felt more depressed than ever.
When was he going to stop fucking this all up?

00

As soon as Harry's feet touched the ground, he could smell the beach. Cold, salty air filled
his nostrils. He took a second to gain his bearings, taking in his surroundings. He had Apparated
to a small cliff close to Sirius's house. He strode forward until he met the cliff side, and
looked out upon the waves that crashed mutinously on the rocks. After a few minutes of watching the
tides, Harry turned and descended from the cliff and headed for Sirius's house. The boardwalk
was almost deserted, with a scarce amount of people walking their dogs or jogging in the crisp
morning air. The gray clouds swirled above him, promising one hell of a storm to come. Harry
grinned, feeling lighter than he had in days and trudged on until he found the handsome house that
belonged to his Godfather. Sirius had a house called Grimmauld's Place that had been left to
him, as the last heir in the Black family, which was large and ornate. He never felt comfortable
there (as he had hated living there in his youth) and therefore found a second home on the coast.
It wasn't particularly large and was much less elaborate than Grimmauld's Place, but Harry,
who had been to both places, could definitely see Sirius's liking for the place.

Using his wand, Harry passed through the many protective enchantments Sirius placed on his
house, especially with his long absences during the school year, and finally, made his way inside.
He walked into the little foyer, shrugged off his jacket and hung it up on the coat rack. He was
engulfed in the familiar smell of Sirius's house, feeling slightly sad that it had been so long
since his last visit. He strolled easily through the house, reacquainting himself with his new
surroundings. Once he through his bag in his bedroom, Harry made his way to the kitchen. He opened
the cupboards and wasn't surprised to find them completely stocked. Sirius had a cleaning lady
who took care of his place while he was away at the school, and he no doubt asked her to stock the
place for his Godson. Sirius had relied on his house-elf Kreacher at one time, but the vile
creature held so much disdain for him, Sirius had given up.

After grabbing a sandwich and some milk, Harry settled himself in front of the television and
turned on Sirius's Xbox, ready for a few hours of gaming.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Hermione had been right. They never even made it home. As soon as they had picked her up from
King's Cross Station, her parents had whisked her away to the airport, ready for their
departure to France. Hermione didn't mind. Keeping up with a busy schedule was exactly what she
needed right now. She hadn't seen Harry since the night before in the Great Hall. He hadn't
been on the train. She had come across Ron and Draco, but they said he was getting home a different
way. Hermione had been glad she wouldn't run in to him now; however, if she had been honest
with herself, she knew this particular set of news only depressed her further. She would have to go
a whole week without seeing his face. She wished now that she had stayed, talked to him. Things she
should and could have done differently haunted her thoughts, twisting painfully in her stomach.
Hermione sighed as she stared out of the small oval window of the plane, willing these thoughts to
leave her alone, but knowing she had a better shot at trying to will her left arm off.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

*I think you know what I'm getting at
I find it so upsetting that
The memories that you select
You keep the bad but the good you just forget

and even though I'm angry I can still say
I know my heart will break the day
when you peel out and drive away
I can't believe this happened

And all this time I never thought
that all we had would be all for naught

No, I don't hate you
don't want to fight you
You know I'll always love you
but right now I just don't like you*

*W**hich To Bury, Us Or The Hatchet?” RELIENT K*

**What did you think?! Review because let me tell ya…the next chapter is a doozie!
Haha.**

*His suddenly asked, his voice was suspicious again. “Are you in love with Hermione?”*

*“**Hey Hermione, it's me. I…I just wanted to say that I miss you…**”*

*“I think he's trying to drown himself in the shower.”*

*“So is the Hufflepuff team paying you off to kidnap the Gryffindor captain?”*

*“Hermione Granger giving up an opportunity to learn?!”*

*Almost an hour in, and they were only winning by ninety—and they needed to triple that before
Harry* *could catch the Snitch.*

*Hermione was going to break the rules.*

**Woot Woot! Good stuff!**

**Anyway. Song list:**

**Song Ron sang: Hungry Eyes—Eric Carmen**

**Song Harry started to sing: Not Meant To Be—Theory Of A Dead Man**

**Song Harry actually finished—Used To****—Chris Daughtry**

**Anyway…I hope you enjoyed it. I'll be replying to reviews from the last chapter here in
the next few days (to those who bother reading my response) and…yep, that's all folks!**

***~Archie~***
 Document created with wvWare/wvWare version 1.2.7
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28. Unthinkable
---------------



**New chapter out soon, as promised! I'm not sure if it was a week, kinda lost track of
time. Butit was quick, nonetheless!!!! Thanks for all the awesome feedback, and hopefully everyone
likes this one too!**

**I own nothing.**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-****SEVEN:** **Unthinkable**

*You had to live in that house that's always on the way
You had to live on that street I go by everyday
You had to drive that car that everybody drives
I see them all the time

Had to have those friends that go to ever show
Had to be such a catch that everybody knows
Had to love that stupid band that sold a million nine
I hear them all the time

Can't get away from you*

*“Can't Get Away From You” LAST CONSERVATIVE*


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Harry found that even the distraction of Sirius's house was not enough to keep Hermione from
his mind. He kept playing the last few months over in his head, wondering what he could have done
differently, imaging her doing things differently. There weren't enough zombies to kill,
weren't enough quarters in football games, and certainly weren't enough DVDs in
Sirius's collection to keep his mind occupied for very long. Harry stared out of the kitchen
window, glass of water in his hand, peering out at a wall of bushes. He decided to go for a walk on
the beach. It was surprisingly warm outside, so he didn't change out of his athletic shorts and
just threw on a hoodie. He grabbed his iPod and ear buds, and then headed outside. The volume was
at full blast, pounding rock music into his ears. Harry didn't care. He didn't want to
think. Once he made it out the door, he surprised himself by turning his walk into an all out
sprint. He sprinted down the stone pathway, keeping his balance easily on the uneven stones. He ran
up the boardwalk, father than he had ever gone before. When he ran out of pathway, he turned to the
beach and ran on the sand.

He sang the words to ever song in his head and tried to keep his breathing even. He wasn't
the best runner, though he felt he could hold his own.

For the next week, running had become his reprieve. He found that music had blocked out his
thoughts for only a little while. It didn't take long for Hermione to pop back in. However, he
found it to be a lot easier, thinking about her, when he was running. He let his feet pound against
the ground, taking him along familiar paths now. Three, four, sometimes even five times a day he
would run—sometimes for an hour, sometimes for three or four hours—for however long it took for him
go regain a clear head. He let his mind concentrate on keeping his breathing even, on not tripping,
on whatever stitch had popped up somewhere on his body, and he let the rest of his mind wander to
Hermione, almost as a side note. It was much easier this way.

Harry had slowed down to a light jog on the boardwalk, contemplating stopping to get a bottle of
water. After toying with the choice, he finally decided his thirst was getting the best of him, and
he needed to stop. Ignoring the stitch in his side—something he had grown accustom to—he stopped
and bought a bottle of water from a vendor. He guzzled the whole bottle, draining it before
throwing the plastic in the rubbish bin.

“So what marathon are you training for?” A voice asked, somewhere to his left. Harry turned to
find a blonde girl with a blue leash in her hand, a black Labrador with his tongue hanging out
panting at the other end.

“Sorry?” He asked, unsure if she was talking to him.

The girl laughed and walked closer to him. “I jog this boardwalk every day, and suddenly
I've seen you running constantly. No matter what time of day I come here, you're here. So
I'm assuming you're training for a marathon—why else would you spend hours on end running
every day? You certainly don't need it.” She added flirtatiously.

Harry gave a wry grin. “I suppose you could say I'm training for a marathon of
sorts—that's how she makes me feel sometimes anyway.” He responded with a laugh.

“She?” The blonde coaxed, only slightly deterred.

“A girl from school I just might be in love with.” He laughed again. “She's been driving me
mad. I've never felt like this, and well…running seems to help. It keeps my mind off
things.”

The girl gave a pout. “She must be on your mind a lot if you have to run so much.” She observed,
ignoring her dog's pull to move her forward towards a hotdog stand.

He grinned. “Something like that.”

“Well, good luck with that. I'd better get him home and get him fed.” She laughed, gesturing
towards her unruly dog.

Harry nodded and bade the girl goodbye, before jogging back to Sirius's place. He was
surprised to find Sirius's bike that was normally in the garage parked out front. He went
inside and saw Sirius sitting on the couch, a controller in his hand.


“About time! Where have you been?!” He exclaimed, pausing his game.

“Running. It's a new hobby, I suppose.” He answered, pulling his hoodie off to reveal a
sweat-soaked shirt.

“Cool, cool.” Sirius replied, yawning. “I thought I'd drop in, give the old bike a
spin.”

Harry knew he was really just checking up on him. “I noticed. How's it riding?”

“Impeccably, as always.” He replied smoothly.

“Wouldn't expect anything less.” Harry said.

“You look a little thinner. Just how much have you been running?” Sirius observed, furrowing his
brow as he took in his Godson's appearance.

Harry shrugged. “Probably just the light.”

“Yes well, I have dinner plans with a girl I met at the pub. She might be able to bring someone
for you if you'd like to join…?” The older man trailed off, mirth in his voice.

“Actually, I've got a date with a girl I met on the boardwalk.” Harry replied
offhandedly.

Sirius was clearing not expecting this. “Really?!” He exclaimed, dumbfounded.

“No.” Harry said, shrugging off his wet t-shirt now. “But I think she wanted me to ask her.
Don't worry, I've got a game plan with Hermione.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Of course you do. After all, it's been working so very well so far.”
He said with a sigh. “Are you going to your parents' tomorrow for dinner?” He asked
suddenly.

Harry shrugged. “Been toying with the idea. Thought I might drop in.” He replied easily. “But
I'm going to go get in the shower now so…I'll see you at school?” He asked as he watched
Sirius look at his watch.

“Alright. I know your mum would like for you to be there so please, if it isn't too much
trouble.” Sirius told him meaningfully.

“Will you be there?” Harry called as he headed towards the loo.

“No, but I hear your lovely aunt and uncle will be there. Just a little something to look
forward to.” Sirius hollered back, causing Harry to make a disgruntled face at the news.

Seconds later, Harry was engulfed in hot steam. He turned slowly under the raining shower head,
letting the hot water loosen his taunt muscles. His body ached, but it wasn't in a bad way. He
stood there, under the water, for a full ten minutes before finally grabbing the shampoo and
beginning to actually start the process of getting clean.

Harry idly wondered if he should let his parents know he would be coming to lunch the next
morning, or just show up. Letting them know prior would probably be best. He didn't have a
phone with him, however. He searched for some spare Muggle change before stepping out into the cool
air. Harry walked a few blocks over to a small market with a payphone.

“Hello?” James Potter's voice answered.

“Hey, it's me. What's up?” Harry replied, his voice rough.

“Harry? Where are you?” His father's stern voice suddenly demanded.

“Sirius's place. He let me stay here for break. I just needed to clear my head. Some…well,
there's some stuff going at school and it's been…difficult. But um, I'm at a payphone.
I just wanted to call and let you know I'll be there tomorrow for dinner.” Harry told him,
trying to keep the stress from his voice.

“Sirius's? What's going on at school?” James asked, concerned.

Harry sighed. “I don't really want to get into all that right now. Just tell mum…tell her
I'll try not to be late.” He said with half a laugh. “See you tomorrow.” He said before hanging
up and turning back to walk briskly towards the house.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

“Who was that, dear?” Lily Potter asked, coming into the sitting room with an aerosol can and
dust rag.

“Harry. He'll be here tomorrow for dinner.” James replied, putting the phone down on the
coffee table. “He's been at Sirius's all week.”

Lily furrowed her brow. “Why has he been there?”

“I'm not sure. I—” James stopped for a moment before unavoidably giving in. He never could
keep anything from Lily. “I think he might be having a rough time at school. He sounded really
stressed about something.”

Concern etched itself in Lily's features as a thousand scenarios rushed through her mind
that could have her baby anxiety. Her eyes suddenly narrowed. “That wench better not be
pregnant.”


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

He hoped his father wouldn't burden his mother with Harry's problems. Harry knew his
mother would already be stressing out, especially if her sister and her family would be coming
over. Lily's sister always was a stickler for everything being properly cleaned—more than
humanly possible. Whenever she would be visiting, Lily tended to forget her magical abilities and
go back to good `ole Muggle cleaning everything in sight. Harry shuddered, glad he wasn't home
right now.

Petunia was Lily's sister, and she had married Vernon Dursley. Despite being sisters,
Petunia possessed no magical abilities of her own. His Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had a son his
age named Dudley. While all three knew of the Wizarding World, they shunned everything about it.
Harry often thought the only reason they agreed to these family functions was because they were
terrified the Potters would turn them into toads or something. Harry didn't particularly like
being around them, and he felt that the feeling was mutual. They found the Potters to be abnormal
and unnatural. Harry and his father found the Dursleys to be plain annoying.

0000000000

He wanted to make sure his relatives were there before he showed up. This would provide a nice
diversion of their attention from himself. Harry was counting on their impeccable punctuality (his
uncle always strove to impress, even if it was a bunch of wizards), and Apparated only a few
minutes late just a little ways away from their property, in the cover of a small wooded area. He
walked a few paces until the house was in view. Sure enough, his uncle's big, shiny company car
was parked just out front, looking freshly washed and in perfect condition. Harry laughed and made
his way inside.

“Harry's home!” were the first words to reach his ears in his mother's voice. Soon, he
felt his body being swallowed up in Lily's tight embrace. Despite their last visit, he was
still his mother's little boy. Harry smiled.

“Hello, mum.” He greeted, hugging her back before hugging his father. He searched his
mother's eyes for concern, but found none. He was grateful his father must not have elaborated
on their conversation much.

“Why didn't you tell us you were going to be at Sirus's? Why didn't you just come
home? Have you been eating, you look thin!” She fired a new question at him before he could reply
at all.

Harry trapped her arms to her sides and looked into her green eyes that matched his own. “Calm
down.” He said slowly. “It was sort of an impulse decision to go to Sirius's place. I just
needed a bit of space. And I've been running a lot this week, just been bored. Do I really look
that much thinner?” Harry asked, examining his reflection in the mirror. He didn't look much
different to himself. “Sirius said something too.”

James shrugged. “A little bit, nothing drastic. How is that old dog?” He boomed with laughter,
rubbing Harry's shoulders.

Harry gave a wry grin. “Took some lady out on a date last night, I believe. So nothing's
changed.” He concluded.

After giving his mother one last reassuring hug (he knew she was so stressed with the relatives
here) he allowed them to guide him into the sitting room, where four others sat—one stranger and
three not-so-strangers.

His uncle was a very large, beefy man with a very large, bushy mustache with short light brown
hair. His face was purple and he had almost no neck at all with two chins to make up for it. He was
dressed in an elaborate dark gray suit, no doubt trying to look impressive. Harry was more
impressed that he could get the buttons on his jacket clasped over his impressively large
belly.

His aunt looked different entirely. She had dark hair, shaped around her horse- like features
with her high cheekbones, square teeth, and elongated neck. Her skin was ivory. Her eyes were a
dull green that didn't house any of the warmth and brightness of her sister's. She sat
beside her husband in a dark blue cocktail dress with white polka dots on it, looking poised.

Dudley was perfect combination between the two. He was vast like his father, but with muscle
rather than fat (he had taken up boxing when he was too fat to fit into the school uniforms and
lost weight). He had his mother's dark hair but his father's watery blue eyes, though they
did not look at menacing. He was almost twice Harry's size, and had an intimidating demeanor in
his tan kakis and white button down shirt with a red bowtie under his chin. Harry noticed a blue
blazer that sat above him across the back of the loveseat. Beside him sat a small blonde girl Harry
could only guess to be Dudley's girlfriend, dressed in a black skirt that reached her knees and
a light blue shirt.

Just for kicks, he rushed forward to engulf his aunt's small frame in his arms, physically
lifting her from the couch. “Aunt Petunia! It's been ages. *How have you been*?!” He asked
enthusiastically, elated by her terrified expression. Without waiting for a reply, he moved on down
the couch.

“Uncle Vernon.” He greeted solemnly, taking his uncle's fat hand in his own and gave him a
very enthusiastic handshake and half-hug. “You look well.” The man in fact did not look well at
all. Harry had only been there five minutes and Vernon's face was already turning an
interesting shade of puce.

He then rushed over to his cousin. “Big D!” He almost shouted. Dudley looked alarmed and held
out his hand, possibly to stop Harry from coming any further. Harry took it in a handshake before
pulling the large boy up onto his feet. “Ah, we're better than that, cousin!” He gave Dudley a
bear hug, not at all surprised that his cousin did not return the favor. “Look at you! You're
huge!” Harry laughed.

“And you must be…?” Harry said, after releasing his cousin and turning to the blonde beside
him.

Still looking alarmed, Dudley said roughly, “This is my girlfriend, Cassie.”

Harry reached out a hand to shake hers. “Hello, Cassie. In case my dear cousin forgot to mention
me, I'm Harry.” He greeted cheerfully, enjoying the subdued expression on her face. It was
clear Dudley *had* mentioned his odd cousin.

Harry's father, who had been snickering from the door as he witnessed the scene unfold,
clapped his hands together merrily. “Ah, holidays! Don't you just love how they bring family
together?” He asked them all, looking around. It was clear the Dursleys did not share his and his
son's enthusiasm.

“Petunia, do you think you could give me a hand?” Lily's voice called from the kitchen.
Petunia left the room quickly, not casting a second glance at the odd Potter men.

Harry caught his father's eye and winked.

“So, shall we drink a beer and see if we can find sports on the telly?” James proposed to the
men in the room, all smiles.

After forty-five entertaining minutes of annoying the hell out of Dudley and Vernon, Harry was
glad dinner was ready.

“I'm just surprised how debonair you look, Dud. I mean, a *bowtie*—now that's
classy. I mean, I wish I had thought to dress better, you know? What do you think of my outfit? Do
you think I should change? What do you think, Cassie? Maybe you'll let me borrow your blazer,
Dudley?” Harry pressed, mockingly fretting over his own simple ensemble of black slacks and a
crisp, white button down shirt.

“Stop annoying your cousin, Harry.” Lily reprimanded, her eyes dangerous.

“Well, tell him to stop dressing better than me!” Harry shot back. “I'm just kidding, man.
Really—it's great to see you.” Harry told him, *almost* meaning it.

Harry couldn't help but notice all his aunt and uncle tried to find seats away from their
overzealous nephew as they gathered around the table, and made sure Dudley was the closest to him.
Harry laughed.

Dinner however, was too delicious for Harry to keep up his bothersome pretense. Instead, he
indulged in his mother and aunt's cooking, not giving anyone else much attention. “This is
delicious, Mum.” Harry complemented, taking a second helping.

“Your aunt helped as well,” She said, smiling warmly at her sister. Petunia tried not to notice.
Harry watched the scene with sad eyes. His mother always tried to grow closer her older sister, and
Petunia would never let Lily in. Harry didn't honestly know why his mother even tried. Had it
been him, he would have just sent them a damn Easter lily and been done with it, maybe even one
that looked a little sick. Perhaps he should buy one, not water it for a few weeks, then send it to
them—it would certainly match his aunt's dead personality.

Harry looked back at his food and continued to eat, enjoying every flavor. This is why *he*
loved holidays—the tasty food. Only when he heard his name did he look up, his eyes searching for
the ones looking in his direction.

It had been Dudley who had spoken. “I asked if you got yourself a girlfriend.” He enunciated
clearly, as if talking to someone who had trouble grasping simply concepts.

Harry noticed his parents, who were listening to one of his uncle's stories about Grunnings,
a drill company of which he was the director, perked their ears in his direction.

Harry was silent for a moment, caught off guard. “It's okay if you don't. There are lots
of people who don't have girlfriends—for example, homosexuals.” He cast a gloating look in
Cassie's direction.

Harry smoothed his shirt. Not to be outdone by his cousin, he lied, “As a matter of fact, I do.
She's gorgeous. Very smart. Kind. Sweet. Her name is Hermione.” A fork fell from down the
table, and he heard his mother mutter a quick apology.

Dudley looked skeptical. “And where is she?”

“France.” He answered easily. “She is on holiday with her parents in France.” Draco had
mentioned something about how Hermione was almost positive that her parents were surprising her
with a trip to France during their Easter break.

Before Dudley could question him further, Harry's mother asked from across the table.
“Harry, dear, could you help me with the cobbler please?”

Harry got up, already knowing it would not taken two people to get the cobbler and it was only a
pretense for his mother to lure in away from everyone else. Once Lily had Harry cornered in the
kitchen with the door shut, Harry put on pot holders and went to pick up the dish of cherry
cobbler.

“So, how has school been?” She asked, her voice constricted.

“Fine.” Harry replied, picking up the dish. Once he turned around toward the door, he almost
bumped into his mother, who was blocking the way.

“So she is a…girlfriend?” She asked, her eyes piercing into his.

Harry shrugged. “I'm not sure exactly what is going on. To be honest, she's been
avoiding me for the last two months because I *want* something more with her.” He told her
truthfully. Perhaps a lady's perspective would help—someone who wasn't Luna Lovegood.

“So you are not good enough for the wench now?” Lily asked angrily.

“*Wench*? What is this, merry ole England mum?” Harry asked with a laugh. “And no…it's
complicated. It's more…she doesn't think it's the best of ideas, even though I'm
fairly certain she feels the same.”

An uneasy smile graced Lily's face. “Well perhaps she's right, dear.”

Harry put down the hot dish and pulled his mother into a hug. “I know you're looking out for
me, mum. I know you care about me. And I love you and value your opinion. But on this…mum,
you've got to let me do it my own way.” He whispered, holding her tight. After a few seconds,
he pulled away just enough so he could look in her eyes. “Look, mum, I care about this girl
something fierce. She's amazing. She's sweet and kind. She isn't much different from
you, actually. She's a great girl, and if anything, I'm the one not good enough for her.
But if you care about my happiness, then you won't try to ruin this, mum. I love you, but I
lo—” He stopped for a second. “But I care about her too, *a lot*. So please, play nice.”

Lily, however, caught his mistake. “You love her?” She whispered. “It isn't just some
crush?”

Harry didn't know what to say. Did he love Hermione? What did he know about love? Hundreds
of hours of endless conversations and a few passionate kisses…did that mean love? He had only know
her for seven months, and only talked with her for three or four months of those seven. However,
they had been intense months, spending almost every waking moment together. Could he love so
quickly? Was he against loving her? No. He knew the answer to that. He wanted nothing more than to
fall deeply in love with this girl, if he wasn't already there.

For the time being, Harry just cracked a smirk at his mother. “Well, I don't know about
love, but it sure as Merlin isn't just some crush.” He answered, much to her obvious
dismay.

Lily sighed. “Harry, I'm just trying to protect you.”

Harry clapped her on the shoulder. “Don't worry about me, Mum. I don't need protection.
However, your husband might from Uncle Vernon if he touches the bloke's tie again. I don't
think I'd put my fingers so close to that man's mouth.” Harry chortled, earning a wary grin
from his mother.

Harry dreaded the closing of dinner, and was fairly certain his cousin shared his feeling.

“You know, you would think once we started driving, they would give up on this.” Dudley spoke
darkly as they stood in the sitting room.

“I suppose we'll have to endure it until one of us has children they can torture this type
of thing with.” Harry replied dryly, plopping himself down in front of the telly. “Shall we go
upstairs and play video games? I've been tearing up zombies in Black Ops at my Godfather's
all week.” He offered to his cousin, who nodded. Cassie followed them silently from the room.

Fifteen minutes into Call of Duty, Aunt Petunia's shrill voice yelled up the stairs for the
three of them to come downstairs.

For some reason unbeknownst to the two cousins, their parents forced them to do a traditional
Easter egg hunt, despite their age. Whenever they profusely argued their case, their parents simply
said then they would have to just find more challenging hiding places.

Feeling like a complete dimwit, Harry took a plastic sack from his aunt and began his hunt.
After ten minutes, he had only found two eggs, of the twelve that they had hidden. It looked like
Dudley had only found one. Cassie had found three, but Harry had a stinking suspicion his mother
was giving her pointers. Groaning, Harry widened his search in the back yard, sifting through the
grass, looking around trees, and in potholes in the ground.

“I'm not even attempting that one.” Dudley said, a sour expression on his features.

Harry followed his gaze and saw a bright yellow egg several feet above him in a tree, nestled
between two branches. Having magic on their side certainly helped with find difficult hiding
places. Harry quickly unbuttoned his shirt and handed it to Dudley to hold. “What are you doing?”
His cousin asked, with that alarmed expression crossing his face again.

“Well I'm not going to ruin my good shirt.” Harry stated the obvious. He took a few paces
back and ran at the tree, barely grabbing its lowest branch. He skillfully pulled himself up and
climbed toward the prize. “You know, it might be a good time to start thinking about getting Cassie
pregnant.” Harry called, pulling himself up higher.

Dudley scoffed. “Right. Maybe you can with Hermione.”

“Not to that stage, yet?” Harry asked, plucking the egg from its hiding spot and beginning his
descend.

“Not even close—are you mad!?” His cousin fired back, distressed at the very thought.

Harry snickered. “Perhaps not then.”

Dudley looked skeptic. “And you're ready to have a baby, right now then?”

Harry looked at him, taking his shirt. “No, I suppose not. But it would get us out of this mess,
yeah?” He laughed.

“It's not that I don't fancy Cassie…I just certainly don't see myself settling down
with her, you know? Did I mention she's captain of her lacrosse team?” Dudley asked, trying to
lighten the mood.

Harry nodded, having already heard this piece of information twice today. “Do you love her?” He
asked suddenly.

Dudley looked uncomfortable. “She's great. And attractive. And nice to be around.” Dudley
responded with forced pride in his voice, as if he was trying to gloat but it was too awkward. “But
I wouldn't say we're in love. I'd prefer to play the field a bit, wouldn't you?” He
joked, elbowing Harry in the arm. He realized Harry wasn't sharing the laugh. “Why are you so
interested?” His suddenly asked, his voice was suspicious again. “Are you in love with
Hermione?”

“I do care for her. She's great, you know? Like…” Harry tried to find the right way to
describe his feelings for her, but they seemed to intensify every time he talked about it—like he
remembered yet another feeling or something amazing about her. “There isn't a bad thing about
her that I would change. She can be right annoying sometimes I suppose to other people, but it
doesn't bother me. I know she isn't perfect by a long shot, but at the same time, I
can't find one imperfection I'm bothered by. She's stubborn. She likes to study way too
much. She doesn't have one bit of athleticism. But you know…I'm glad for all that. Without
it, she wouldn't be *her*.” He said, talking faster with each passing word like he had too
much to say about her and not enough time to say it in.

It was by far the most awkward conversation he had ever had with his cousin. However, at the
same time…Harry almost felt comfortable. Dudley had no idea who Hermione was and had he told him
her last name, he would look just as dumbfounded as he did now. It was odd, talking with Dudley
about Hermione like this—but also refreshing.

“I miss her. I miss her like crazy. It's only been a week since I saw her last and I feel
like it has been years.” Harry admitted.

If Dudley was even more uncomfortable after Harry's little outburst, he didn't show it.
Harry had never had a connection with his cousin before, but right here, under a big tree that the
stupid yellow Easter egg was hidden in, he felt like Dudley was actually listening to him, and
perhaps, was feeling sympathy for his pain. Harry never knew his cousin was capable of compassion
for anyone. Trying to look at ease, he joked, “Well maybe you do love her. Good thing too because I
don't plan on hunting these ruddy eggs next year.”

Harry smiled. “That's what love is, isn't it? Missing someone every second you
aren't with them? And no matter what was said or done…you just want things to be okay again,
even if you're the one giving in? Because right now…nothing is more important than things just
being…right, you know?” Harry's voice was barely above a whisper now as all this thoughts
screamed towards one conclusion, the only thing that made sense: something he should have done
months ago.

“Here, take mine.” Harry shoved his bag of eggs towards his cousin. “Mum has been helping Cassie
anyway.” He said before sprinting towards the house. They would be returning to Hogwarts tomorrow,
surely she would be home.

Harry took the stairs two at a time as he rushed to his bedroom and searched for his small
mobile phone. He quickly hit two and listened.

Answering machine. Hermione's father's voice rang through the ear piece, ushering him to
leave a message.

What would he say? Before he could think, the man's voice was gone.

*Beeeeep!*

Harry took a deep breath. “Hey Hermione, it's me. I…I just wanted to say that I miss you…and
I hope you're having a good holiday. See you at school.” He flipped his phone shut.

He could almost physically feel the huge weight being lifted from his shoulders.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

*A hundred days have made me older
Since the last time that I saw your pretty face
A thousand lies have made me colder
And I don't think I can look at this the same
But all the miles that separate
Disappear now when I'm dreaming of your face

I'm here without you baby
But you're still on my lonely mind
I think about you baby
And I dream about you all the time

I'm here without you baby
But you're still with me in my dreams
And tonight it's only you and me*

*“Here Without You” 3 DOORS DOWN*


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Hermione breezed in through the door, all smiles as she entered the kitchen. She had just
finished unpacking her things, as well as repacking for school. It was late in the afternoon. The
Hogwarts Express had left the day before, but she had talked with Dumbledore about another
arrangement for getting back to school, as her plane from France did not get back until this
morning.

“Hermione, dear, you have a message on the machine.” Her mother greeted, nodded towards the
sitting room.

Slightly bewildered, Hermione went to check it. She hit the play button, and waited. His
familiar voice fluttered through the speaker, “*Hey Hermione, it's me. I…I just wanted to say
that I miss you…and I hope you're having a good holiday. See you at school*.”

Hermione almost gasped. A message from Harry certainly had been a surprise. She listened to it
again. Then again, as an ache for his presence started to burn in her stomach. And then one more
time before finally deleting it.

Without returning to the kitchen, Hermione slowly walked up to her bedroom and allowed for
herself to drop onto her bed. She reached for the phone and dialed the number she knew by heart,
without giving herself time to think. All she knew was she wanted to hear his voice again. He
hadn't been on the Hogwarts Express when he left for the break, perhaps he hadn't taken it
home either.

It didn't even ring before going straight to voicemail. “*Hey, it's Harry. Leave a
message*!”

Hermione hung up. His phone was off, which meant he was probably already back at school.

She mused over the last few days before break began, then over the last few months with Harry
absent from her life. Soon, she was engrossed in her whole span at Hogwarts, the good and the bad.
Mixed feelings bubbled to the surface over big over, trivial things. She thought of Harry, of the
other students, the teachers. She thought about everything Dumbledore had told them, then about
what Draco had said.

Guilt had slowly accumulated in the pit of her stomach since February fifteenth. She had tried
to ignore it for too long. But now, it consumed her. She had shut Harry out, and here he was,
calling her, pretty much just to tell her he was thinking about her.

It had been a quick decision—quicker than she had imagined. As all these miscellaneous thoughts
swam through her brain, one thing shined above all the rest: she had never been happier than she
had been when she had been so close with Harry Potter. Right now, nothing else mattered because
nothing else compared to the way he made her feel. Damn the stupid war, damn Voldemort, damn
anything and everything that forced its way in between Harry and her—to hell with it *all*.
Tears of sadness, tears of joy, tears of guilt and excitement flowed freely. She had been so
stupid, but now, she could clearly see. She could see what Harry had been saying all along. What
Draco had tried to illuminate for her. Hermione jumped up, suddenly realizing she couldn't get
to Hogwarts fast enough. She was tired of running.

0000000

Two hours later, Hermione found herself in her familiar dormitory, pacing nervously. She had
been here only twenty minutes and had already pinpointed Harry's location: the Quidditch Pitch.
He had his last match this Saturday, so obviously he was going to make his team practice from now
until early Friday evening, every chance he got.

She paused in her pacing and watched out the window. It would be dark soon, too dark to play.
Anxiety coursed through her as she searched for a jacket to put on, ready to head out to the Pitch.
Despite her nerves going haywire in her system, another feeling—budding elation—kept the unease
company. She was ending this, tonight. If Harry didn't want her back, that was his problem. She
would not return to Gryffindor Tower until Harry Potter was her best friend again.

She didn't have to wait very long before Harry called the team down and they all trudged to
the locker rooms. Butterflies flew like mad in her stomach as she slowly crept out of the
shadows—her hiding place. Hermione hoped Harry wouldn't leave with Ron and Draco, and luckily
by some miracle, she got her wish. She counted the players leaving, sighing in relief as Ron and
Draco emerged from the door, leaving only Harry remaining.

Draco caught sight of her first and broke out into a grin. “About damn time.”

Hermione grinned, embarrassed.

“I think he's trying to drown himself in the shower.” Ron informed her with a laugh. “So you
better hurry.”

More embarrassment flooded through her, and Hermione slowly went towards the door of the locker
room. She hoped he was done because it would be awkward having to wait for him to finish.

Hermione cracked open the door. “Harry?” She called nervously before entering.

Harry poked his head around the wall of lockers, hair sopping wet in only a pair of dark faded
jeans. He pulled his glasses on.

“Hermione? What are you doing here?” He asked, coming into full view.

Hermione smiled, elation taking over her nerves. She just needed to see him. Suddenly, the
long-awaited apology she owed him didn't seem scary at all. Words only failed her for a second.
“I—Harry, I'm so sorry!” Words tumbled from her mouth before she could think them through
properly, but she didn't care, she needed to get them out. Normal speech pace couldn't get
her words out fast enough. “I've been a total…total…*bitch*, for lack of better word, I
know. And I'm so—”

Harry had crossed the distance of the room easily and put a halt to her terrible apology as he
pressed a solitary finger to her lips, shushing her. Suddenly, he didn't need to hear her say
the words at all.

Harry smiled at her bewildered expression. “I thought that's what I wanted, for you to just
say you're sorry. But…I don't even need to hear it, Hermione. All water under the bridge.”
He spoke softly, pulling her into a fierce hug.

Hermione gripped his naked back with her palms, pressing herself to him as close as humanly
possible. Oh how she had missed this! After a few seconds, she pulled back, but Harry's grip
only tightened.

She laughed and hugged him again before forcing him to let her go. She looked deep into his
eyes. “You may not have to hear these words, but I *need* to say them.” She spoke slowly, her
hands griping his shoulder lightly. She tried to calm herself and talk slowly, not ramble and mash
her words together. “I'm sorry. I'm so very very sorry for how I've acted. You were
right. You were right about everything. I do run away when I'm scared. And Harry, you scare the
shit out of me—the grasp you have on me is incredible, and I've never felt more vulnerable in
my life than I do right now. Admitting to someone the…the *hold* they have over me…it's
very hard, Harry. But I've realized me not wanting to admit it doesn't make it any less
true. These last few months have been miserable.” Hermione whispered, feeling her heart hammer in
her chest. “I miss my best friend.” She choked out and without letting Harry respond, she buried
her head in the crook of his neck, pulling him into another tight hug.

“I'm sorry too.” Harry said in her ear. “I shouldn't have waited so long. I've
missed you terribly. I shouldn't have pressured you. I never thought it would take this long.”
He said with half a laugh.

Hermione smiled and wiped her eyes. “I guess we're both too stubborn for our own good.” She
laughed.

Harry grinned, possible the most genuine smile he had had in months. “I'm going to finish
getting dressed…then how about we go raid the kitchens for something sweet because all this making
up has made me ravenous.” He proposed, his eyes bright.

“Deal.” Hermione grinned. She stood off to the side, allowing herself a small peek before Harry
pulled a black t-shirt over his head, her heart skipping a few beats. She tried to hide her blush
and pretend to be interested in the paneling of the room, inspecting the intricate wood designs
without seeing them.

“Ready?” A voice said behind, causing Hermione to jump. She turned to catch sight of a dazzling
smile gracing Harry's lips. He had his hand held out, which Hermione took.

“Let's go!” She answered cheerfully, feeling lighter than she had in all her time at
Hogwarts.

Once the two were back in the Gryffindor Common Room after a quick snack, Hermione announced to
Harry that she would be going to bed “I want to be ready for classes tomorrow!” She argued when he
asked her to stay. “And I know Ron and Draco are looking forward to chatting about more Quidditch
strategies for Saturday's game.” She said coyly, though a look in their direction at their
disgruntled faces told her quite the opposite.

Harry gave her a sad smile. “Okay, I'll see you tomorrow then.” He said, the line blurred
slightly between it being a question or a statement.

Hermione smiled in return and walked towards the stairs. She didn't need to rest for classes
the following morning. No, she needed to think…and think hard.

She allowed herself to get ready for bed before letting her mind wander. She took a shower,
brushed her teeth and her hair, put on her pajamas and finally got into bed.

Harry.

She sighed in bliss at their reunion, pulling her pillow closer. Oh how she had missed him. She
had forgotten how easy he was to talk to and how incredible his very presence made her feel. She
knew how she felt about him—she may very well be in love. It was no secret that he was mad for her
either. He had made that point quite clear. Hermione also knew she wanted him, just as he wanted
her. And finally, she had accepted that she didn't give a damn about a War anymore. Her
conversation with Draco had helped immensely. Now, she knew she was ready. She knew he had been
ready. She also knew she would not be able to make the first move, despite how desperately she
wanted to. Hermione was a chicken, she knew. She laughed softly to herself, amused at her
dilemma.

She would wait, she decided. She would wait, and hopefully, Harry wouldn't take too long to
broach the subject again, though she had a sinking feeling that it might be awhile, because he
wouldn't want to rush her. `*Oh well*,' she said to herself, `*at least I have his
friendship. And friendship is good enough…for* now.'

0000000000000000000

Harry woke up earlier than usual and sped through the process of getting ready. He showered,
shaved, dressed, and skipped down the dormitory stairs before any of his dorm mates had even woke
up. He wanted to beat Hermione downstairs and wait for her in the Common Room, just to make sure
the night before hadn't been a dream. The Common Room had a few early birds milling around
groggily, trying to finish undone homework through their yawns. Harry found a quiet table in the
corner. He pulled a piece of scrap parchment toward him and grabbed a pen from his bad and began to
doodle, eyes lifting towards the Girls' Staircase every so often.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

*See the stone set in your eyes
See the thorn twist in your side
I wait for you

Sleight of hand and twist of fate
On a bed of nails she makes me wait
And I wait without you

With or without you
With or without you

Through the storm, we reach the shore
You gave it all but I want more
And I'm waiting for you*

*“With Or Without You” U2*


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Hermione trudged down the staircase, sleepiness still fogging her brain slightly, but it was
slowly disappearing as she played the events from the night before in her head for a third time
that morning. The drowsiness evaporated completely when she watched Harry bounce up from his table
and bound toward her, a large grin playing effortlessly on his lips.

“Good morning, m'lady.” He greeted, bowing to her.

Hermione laughed his antics, but she curtsied for him nonetheless. “Good morning, yourself, kind
sir.”

“Did you sleep well?” He asked, gesturing for her to lead the way.

Hermione's cheeks warmed. “Probably better than I have in a long time.” She admitted with a
begrudging grin.

Harry nodded. “Ditto.”

As they walked, Hermione eyed Harry's hand, just limp at his side. Her own twitched to reach
out to take it, already knowing the familiar warmth it would bring her. A slight tremor jolted
through her arm, catching Harry's attention.

“Are you okay?” He asked, concern etched on his face.

Hermione smiled, praying her cheeks wouldn't redden. “Just a cold chill.” She quickly lied,
speeding up her pace.

Harry fell behind her and wrapped each of her arms in his hands and began to rub her arm, hoping
the friction would warm her up. “We can't have any of that.”

Goosebumps erupted on Hermione's arms under her robes, but she ignored them and just
laughed, saying her thanks.

It had been obvious to the rest of the school that some sort of row had been going on between
Harry and Hermione, as they had been inseparable for months. Only the select few of their best
friends actually knew the origin of the fight. Now, walking in to Great Hall together, laughing,
people's heads turned curiously in their direction. Harry and Hermione ignored everyone
completely, lost in their own world.

“So what do you want to do today?” Harry asked as they sat down at an empty portion of the
Gryffindor table.

Hermione shrugged. “What do you want to do?” She fired back, picking up a piece of toast.

Harry pulled a thoughtful expression. “I don't know. I'm sure we'll find
something.”

Hermione nodded, digging further into her breakfast.

00000000000

Hermione couldn't remember ever being so happy. She had forgotten just how lively Harry had
made her life. He didn't like to sit around much, and was constantly trying to get the most he
could out of every opportunity he had. No, with him, she didn't get to observe life around her;
she was forced to live it. Harry was such a beautiful person inside and out, it was difficult not
to catch his infectious carefree live-for-the-moment attitude.

That was why Hermione had made a plan. Harry had put together so many little things for her that
she wanted to do the same for him. Perhaps it was stupid, but she didn't care. She was going to
make an effort, and even if it flopped, she knew it would at the very least brighten Harry's
day—there wasn't much she wouldn't do just for that alone, she was coming to realize.

It was Friday, and Hermione knew Harry was completely on edge. He tried to hide it, but Thursday
morning had brought with it a new sense of urgency to the entire castle, the Quidditch teams in
particular. Hermione could see how anxious Harry was, and it made her want to reach out to him, to
calm him down some way. She decided it was possible to be over prepared sometimes, and Harry needed
to get out of Quidditchville, even if just for an hour or two.

Hermione was going to break the rules.

00000

Harry was the last one in the locker room, *again*—it was becoming a hobby of his. Hermione
waited patiently, slightly nervous that he might shut her down because it would prove to be too
much of a distraction. Then again, she couldn't think of a time when he had refused her. She
looked at her watch and saw that it was almost quarter `til eight. He really needed to hurry! Her
patience wasn't waning; she just knew they had so little time.

Finally, Harry emerged from the locker room, a hundred emotions upon his face: excitement,
nervousness, exhaustion, anticipation, and countless others. Hermione smiled in her hiding spot and
waited for him to pass by before she crept behind him and put her hands over his eyes, effectively
blinding him. “Guess who?” She sang lightly.

Harry chuckled at her antics. “Hm…” He pretended to ponder. “The Queen?” He guessed
hopefully.

“Nope.”

“Professor McGonagall?”

“Nooo.” Hermione responded, still giggling quietly.

“I give up then.” He sighed theatrically.

Hermione gave a pout. “You're boring.” She complained.

Harry twisted around to catch her hands in his own. “Of course I know who it is.” He said with a
smile, raising one hand so she could twirl around as if they were dancing. “No one else smells this
good.” Harry winked.

Hermione felt a blush surface on her cheeks, but ignored it. “Well good then, because you're
stuck with me for the next couple of hours.” She said, going over to the bushes to pick up
Harry's Invisibility Cloak that she had nicked from his dormitory.

Harry's mouth dropped in mock shock. “Hermione Jane Granger! I didn't know you were into
petty theft—you better hope the owner of that can be persuaded not to press charges!” He cautioned
urgently.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Oh hush, you.” She reached over and swiftly took his Firebolt from
his hands, “And hop on.” She ordered smoothly, straddling the broomstick.

Slightly stunned, Harry tossed his duffle bag with his practice clothes in them inside the door
of the locker room and did as he was told.

“I'm not sure if the cloak will conceal us completely, but the dark will do the rest.”
Hermione said, more to herself than to Harry. It was already twilight. Harry wrapped the two of
them in the cloak the best he could.

Harry encircled her waist and held the tips of the cloak in his fist, effectively wrapping
themselves in invisibility as Hermione comfortably kicked off from the ground. Curiosity was
burning inside of him. Finally, before he could stop himself, he leaned forward to whisper in her
ear huskily, “So is the Hufflepuff team paying you off to kidnap the Gryffindor captain?”

Hermione smiled. “Something like that. It's a rather large lump sum. I'll be able to buy
a lot of pretty things.”

“Mmm, that sounds nice. And what do you plan on doing with your prisoner?” His low voice tickled
the back of her neck.

Hermione found it difficult to focus for a moment, knowing Harry was doing this on purpose. “Oh,
I'm just going to wing it.” She managed, closing her eyes for the tiniest second to regain
control.

Hermione could feel rather than hear a deep chuckle in Harry's chest, as it was flush
against her back. Determined not to lose focus, Hermione urged the broom forward, scrutinizing
their path. A silence lapsed between the two as they soared towards Hermione's destination.

Once they got to Hogsmeade, Hermione flew to an almost-graceful landing just on the edge of the
small village.

“A nighttime stroll through the Hogsmeade village?” Harry questioned as they dismounted.
Hermione stowed the broomstick and cloak into a small purse slung across her chest. Harry cocked a
questioning eyebrow.

“Undetectable Extension Charm.” She answered with a shrug. Hermione held out her hand, which
Harry took without a second thought. He was surprised however when his body suddenly collapsed
within itself and he felt as if he was being forced through a tight rubber tube.

They Apparated just inside a dark alley way. “I thought we'd do it Muggle-style tonight.”
Hermione said, her voice smug. She pulled him out towards the semi-busy street of people getting
ready for a Friday night.

“London?” Harry asked, recognizing their surroundings.

Hermione smiled but said nothing as she ushered him down the street where they fell into step
easily with strangers.

“Where are we going?” Harry asked again, a new excitement coursing through him.

“Well, I thought you could use a little break from the stressing of Quidditch, so…” She trailed
off, eyeing the open possibilities before them.

Harry laughed. “What did you have in mind?” Harry slung an arm casually around her
shoulders.

Hermione stopped short of a neon-lit sign, reading TEN-PIN BOWLING. “I was thinking something
along these lines,” she said, gesturing towards the large pin and bowling ball.

Harry grinned and opened the door. He reached for his wallet, where he carried Muggle money in
out of habit, but Hermione stopped him. “My treat,” she simply said before pulling out her own
wallet.

Harry knew he would be fighting a losing battle and gestured for her to continue.

Soon, the two were found in a lane between a group of loud beer-laden twenty-somethings and five
ladies in matching bowling league shirts, complete with embodied names in pink. Various fried foods
and two half-empty cokes littered their table. As it appeared, neither Gryffindor was very good at
bowling, though Hermione's talents were drastically worse off than Harry's. Harry sat back
in a chair, taking a sip of Coke as he watched Hermione pick up a bright pink bowling ball and head
for the pins. Smiling to himself, Harry laughed when she got a gutter ball. He put down his drink
and picked up a neon green ball before heading towards her. “Perhaps you could use a lesson?” He
asked innocently.

Hermione scoffed. “I most certainly do not.” She said stubbornly.

“Hermione Granger giving up an opportunity to learn?!” Harry mocked.

“Well, when you put it that way…” Hermione flirted back.

Harry gave her the bowling ball and easily molded his body against hers. “Your aim is a little
off.” He informed her. “You twist your wrist right before you throw, and it makes it go straight in
the gutter.” Harry forced her wrist straight. “Now just bring your arm back…” he continued, making
the motion with her, but keeping a firm grasp on her wrist, “Swing…and…release.” He finally said as
they watched the green bowling ball roll in a straight line. Strike.

Hermione suddenly jumped up and down and began doing a victory dance. Harry's eyes followed
her movements, unable to stifle a chuckle.

“Good job.” He complimented as she danced back to her seat.

They played one more game and finished off one more plate of gooey-nacho-mess before Hermione
checked the time. “Uh-oh. Your sentence is up. Time to get the team captain to bed,” she said,
dropping into a seat to take off her bowling shoes.

Harry kicked off his own shoes and took both pairs back to the counter to exchange them for
their own shoes.

The trip home was a silent one. They Apparated back to Hogsmeade quickly, and this time, Harry
guided them back to Hogwarts, without the shelter of the cloak this time as it was very dark.
Instead of going through the castle, Harry flew straight up to Hermione's window.

Once they were in her empty dormitory, Harry glanced at the time himself. It was almost eleven
o'clock. He reached out and pulled Hermione into a hug, which she easily returned.

“Thank you.” He murmured softly into her hair, taking in her scent. He closed his eyes and
tightened his arms around her.

“No problem.” Hermione replied.

“I had a great time tonight—we should definitely go again sometime. Bowling with you is
positively a fantastic good time.” He winked.

“Of course.” She replied smoothly. “But you need to go to bed. You've got a big day
tomorrow.” She ordered him.

“*We'v*e got a big day. It won't just be a win for the team; it will be a win for
Gryffindor as well.” He corrected her.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Yes, well, your alertness is vastly more important than mine.” She
said, pushing him towards the open window.

“Alright, alright. I'm going.” Harry said, hopping onto his broomstick. “Until tomorrow,
milady. I bid you adieu.” He said, kissing her hand in a gentlemen-like fashion before disappearing
into the night.

Hermione watched out the window until she couldn't see him anymore. “Good night,” she
whispered softly, closing the window. With a sigh, she turned around and faced the empty room,
feeling a mixture of delight and depression.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

*I'm tugging at my hair
I'm pulling at my clothes
I'm trying to keep my cool
I know it shows
I'm staring at my feet
My cheeks are turning red
I'm searching for the words inside my head

(Cause) I'm feeling nervous
Trying to be so perfect
Cause I know you're worth it
You're worth it
Yeah

If I could say what I want to say
I'd say I wanna blow you... away
Be with you every night
Am I squeezing you too tight
If I could say what I want to see
I want to see you go down
On one knee
Marry me today
Guess, I'm wishing my life away
With these things I'll never say*

*“Things I'll Never Say” AVRIL LAVIGNE*


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Harry easily made his way to his own dormitory and snuck in the window. Ron's snored filled
the room. Neville's bed was the only one empty. Harry quietly walked to his bed and quickly got
undressed. He didn't feel tired at all as he mental went through the night again. Hermione was
so **(no so)**great. The months since Valentine's Day seemed to completely evaporate, as
they were closer than ever. It was hard to believe it had only been a week since they made up.
Harry glanced at the clock and groaned. He knew he should have been asleep almost two hours ago.
Even the next morning's match couldn't fight away the memories of the night. Harry knew he
wouldn't have traded even a minute of tonight for those two extra hours of sleep.

With guilty thoughts and fantasies that had nothing to do with the upcoming game in his mind,
Harry fell into a peaceful sleep.

000000000000000

Harry walked out of the locker room for the tenth time, pacing in front of it. All the nerves
that had disappeared the night before came back with twice the force. Harry felt ready. He felt
that his team was at their full potential. The pure desire to win was so thick in the air that he
could almost taste it.

“Nervous?” A voice boomed from behind, and Harry felt a strong grip on his shoulders.

He shrugged in response to his father. His mother hugged him while Sirius grinned. “I can't
believe it—your last Hogwarts game.” Her eyes looked close to tears.

Wanting to keep the water works at bay, Harry quickly fell into strategy tactics with his father
and Sirius. He didn't look up until his mother cleared her voice, her eyes narrowed. “Let's
go find a good seat, dear.” She said, her mouth tight. Harry followed her gaze and unconsciously, a
broad smile fell on his lips as he watched Hermione make her way towards him, trying to approach
nonchalantly.

“Good luck, son.” James grinned.

“You'll be careful, won't you?!” His mother's worried voice demanded before she
kissed his forehead.

“Make us proud, Harry.” Sirius winked before gesturing in the direction of the stands. “Shall
we?”

“Hey.” Hermione greeted softly, making an effort to ignore the scene that had unfolded before
her.

“Hey you.” He replied in a quiet voice before acknowledging the group surrounding her. “Ginny.
Neville.” He said with a nod before finally, “Luna.” He didn't comment on her absurd hat: a
large, majestic lion head.

“Hello.” The three greeted back before Luna began to wander towards the locker room, saying
something about telling Ron good luck. Harry made to stop her, but Hermione grabbed his arm.

“I don't like significant others going into the locker room, especially before a big game
like this!” He has, exasperated.

Hermione smiled. “Oh it will be fine, calm down. Are you saying you'd be upset if you
hadn't been standing out here and I had come in to wish you good luck?” She asked
innocently.

Harry was going to argue, but knew it was pointless. In fact, he'd be upset if she
hadn't.

Feeling awkward, Ginny and Neville both wished the best of luck to Harry before telling Hermione
they would save her and Luna a seat.

A whistle blew somewhere, signaling it was almost time.

Looking nervous, Harry threw a look back to the locker room. “I'd better get in there.” He
said, slowly letting out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.


Hermione smiled. She leaned over to give him a long hug, then, before she could stop herself, she
pressed her lips to his cheek. “I won't wish you good luck—you're too talented for that.”
She said, her cheeks slightly flushed.

Harry didn't know what to say, though a million thoughts rushed through his mind. He felt
the urge to snog her senseless, but tried to calm down. He certainly didn't need *that*
sort of thing on his mind right now. Finally, in a hoarse voice, he mumbled, “Thanks.” She squeezed
his hand one last time as Luna came back, smiling dreamily.

“Have a good game, Harry.” Luna said with a nod.

“Thanks.” He repeated as the dizzy feeling began to lift. With a quick shake of his head from
side to side, Harry bade them both goodbye and ran to the locker room.

Hermione and Luna met Ginny and Neville in the stands a few minutes later and waited for the
match to begin.

000

Hermione wasn't paying much attention to the voice of a fellow Gryffindor, Dean Thomas, as
her eyes roamed the Pitch. Harry always told her he hated listening to the commentary because it
was usually a few seconds behind to what was actually happening in the game. He preferred to block
it out and see for himself…which usually meant him unconsciously whispering his own commentary
under his breath. Having watched a few games with him, Hermione had begun to listen to his voice in
place of Dean's. With him not here, she said the commentary in her head at a much faster,
simpler speed. She couldn't believe how much she had learned, just watching the matches with
him, Ron, and Draco.

*`Kofact**s.* *Elliot. Stolen by Stutz. Saved by Ron. Draco…going,
going…SCORE!'* Hermione's eyes automatically found Harry to see his reaction, which
turned out to be a quick high five to Draco. The Hufflepuff Keeper chucked the Quaffle with all his
might down the field, but Draco quickly intercepted it, went in for another score, then
unexpectedly passed to Carmichael once the Keeper was sufficiently distracted by Draco barreling
towards him, leaving Carmichael for the open shot.

*`SCORE! One hundred forty to fifty.*' Hermione thought, not needing to check the score
board. Slytherin's win against Ravenclaw was brutal, and it meant Gryffindor had to win by at
least four hundred and twenty points—no easy feat. However, Harry assured it was possible. Watching
the game now, Hermione was trying hard not to doubt his words. Almost an hour in, and they were
only winning by ninety—and they needed to triple that before Harry could catch the Snitch.

Harry had called a time out, and the Gryffindor team gathered around on the ground. Harry was
talking animatedly, and grabbed the shoulder of one of the Beaters before gesturing to Jenna
Stevens. Hermione knew he must be reprimanding him for letting a Bludger nearly knock her off her
broom. After another thirty seconds of what Hermione could only assume was an ego-boosting pep
talk, everyone was back in the air.

*`**Kofacts. Draco. Kofacts. Draco. Ko—Elliot! SCORE!'* Hermione's mind raced
as she only barely kept up with their strategic weaving and passing down the field.

Dean's voice boomed, complimenting the team work, but Hermione heard none of it. Hufflepuff
was in possession and was darting down the field. The Fourth Year was no match for Draco, who
easily stole the red ball and raced towards the Hufflepuff goal posts. *`SCORE!'*

Two and a half hours. It was two and a half hours into the game. The Gryffindor team had taken
what Harry must have yelled at them to heart, as their performance was superb. The team was acting
as a single unit. The Beaters worked together to protect the Chasers; Kofacts, Draco, and Elliot
were blurs half the time, weaving complicated patterns that it was sometimes impossible to know
which one actually *had* the Quaffle; Ron darted around his posts, blocking almost every goal
attempt; and finally, Harry circled the Hufflepuff Seeker, restraining him from getting a clear
view of the Pitch. Hermione had never seen a better team. The score was seventy to three hundred
and twenty—Gryffindor. They needed twenty more points—and needed to maintain that lead—before Harry
could try for the Snitch.

Hufflepuff scored. Thirty more points now.

Hermione's eyes were bright with excitement as she murmured her own strategic plays under
her breath, and was bizarrely impressed with herself when Draco and Elliot did what she was hoping
they'd do, and it ended in another score. She let out an uncontrollably “Whoop!” that earned
her looks from Ginny and Neville, but Hermione paid no mind. Harry had seen the Snitch, and was
frantically checking to see if the Hufflepuff Seeker, Zefner, had seen it too.

He had.

They raced down the Pitch, Harry's Firebolt easily taking the lead. Jenna Stevens, a rather
strong girl for her age, caught on quickly and rushed towards the nearest Bludger and, with a look
of great intensity, knocked the black ball of iron in the Seeker's path, effectively throwing
the Hufflepuff off course.

The Snitch disappeared.

Hermione could feel the sudden heightened intensity of the game. Gryffindor knew they needed to
end it, and end it now. Draco, the strongest Chaser, urged his broom forward and dashed towards the
Hufflepuff Keeper, Stinson. Smith and Krevis both tried to intercept him just outside the scoring
area. With a fierce grin, he shot straight up with Smith and Krevis following. The Quaffle hung
suspended in midair, the three Chasers now over fifteen feet above the sudden lonely ball. Out of
nowhere, Harry raced from the direction of the Hufflepuff goal posts some ten feet below the red
ball, looped forward he was upside and swiftly kicked it straight into the far left goal. The
crowds cheered at the unique score—made by a Seeker, no less! Somewhere in Hermione's memory
distant words reminded her that while no other player can touch the Snitch, the same rule does not
apply to the Quaffle. It was just very unwise to utilize the Beaters and Seeker as secondary
Chasers when their attention needed to be elsewhere.

One more goal. Harry flew high above the match, distancing himself from what was going it. It
was obvious to Hermione that he was counting on one of his Chasers to pull through as he put all of
his focus on the Golden Snitch.

Hermione applauded Ron's Keeper skills as he blocked yet another attempt and threw the ball
to Elliot. She, too, distanced herself from the game and focused solely on Harry.

It happened in an instant. Draco and Harry's eyes met, both seeing exactly what had just
happened, what was happening, and what needed to happen. Draco yelled something to Carmichael, who
took off towards Stutz, reading his bat to hit a Bludger his way. Elliot caught the Quaffle once
Stutz dropped it and raced to the Hufflepuff goal posts, Draco and Kofacts already in formation. In
an efficient yet complicated rhythm, the trio got the Quaffle down the Pitch in seconds. Draco was
at the point with Kofacts and Elliot flanking him, acting more as body guards than team mates.

During this fast-paced exchange that took place in mere seconds, Harry had shot off like a
bullet at the opposite end of the Pitch, speeding quickly en route to the tiniest glint of gold
hovering just inches from the ground. Hermione suddenly realized the dilemma: Draco needed to score
before Harry caught the Snitch; Harry needed to catch the Snitch *now* because he was three
times farther from it than the Zefner—who was barreling forward as fast as his broomstick would
allow. It would be a photo finish. It was impossible to watch both Harry and the Chaser at the same
time, so Hermione glued her eyes to Harry, her fingernails digging painfully into her palms,
*`Go, go, go. But please don'**t crash!**'* She thought desperately.

The volume of the stadium appeared to be muted. Nanoseconds ticked by as Harry gained on Zefner.
Now they were neck and neck. As if in slow motion, he overtook the underdog Seeker and, before
Hermione could make out much more as Harry was now inches above the ground, he was gone. He flew
high above the crowd, his fist high in the air, encircling a small glint of gold. The rest of the
team joined him in his soar above the crowd, and by the look on Draco's face, Hermione knew he
had scored just in time. And even five hundred to eighty—Gryffindor.

Hermione hugged Luna, who was showing a remarkable amount of emotion over the Gryffindor win, as
she rarely looked very excited for anything. Next, Ginny nearly jumped in her arms, but the hug was
short lived as Ginny quickly turned her around and pushed her away. Hermione could only barely take
in that this was because Harry was very rapidly speeding straight for her, his emerald eyes bright
with an intensity she had never witnessed. His landing wasn't graceful, but his wild eyes told
her that he hadn't planned for his to be. Two steps then he all but roughly grabbed her so she
was flush against him. He wasn't gentle. He wasn't asking. Confidence radiated from him as
his hands snaked to the base of her neck and he crushed his lips to hers in a victory kiss. Her
body automatically attempted to pull him closer, as if that were even possible. Even with her mind
very much elsewhere, she knew this wasn't just a victory for him in Quidditch.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

*I know you said to me
"This is exactly how it should feel when its meant to be"
Time is only wasting so why wait for eventually
If we gonna do something about it
We should do it right now

You give me a feeling that I never felt before
And I deserve it, I know I deserve it
Its becoming something that's impossible to ignore
It's what we make it
I was wondering maybe
Could I make you my baby
If we do the unthinkable would it make us so crazy
Or would it be so beautiful either way I'm saying
If you ask me I'm ready, I'm ready, I'm ready*

*“Unthinkable* *(I'm Ready)**” ALICIA KEYS*

**Well?!?! Don't forget to review! And I'll have the next chapter out soon! And check
out my new story Outlet if you haven't yet. I like that one, haha. Well, thanks for reading and
I'll see you all next time!!!**

**REVIEW!**

***~Archie~***
 Document created with wvWare/wvWare version 1.2.7
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29. Voldemort's Past
--------------------



**Hey everyone. This is kinda short, but it's a 2 part chapter. I will MOST DEFINITELY have
the next chapter up within the next two weeks, though I'm shooting for shorter—espeically
because this is only like 13 pages. Something big happens, but I think all of it is pretty
important. Just my own back story for Voldemort—some you will be familiar with, some is new.
Enjoy!**

**P.S. My “n” button on my laptop is being shysty so I'm sorry for all typos! I THINK I got
them all. Haha.**

**I own nothing!**

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: Voldemort's Past

“What quarrel do you have with your assignment, Wormtail?” Voldemort's malicious voice asked
menacingly.

The short, balding man whimpered frighteningly, “Q-q-quarrel?” He stuttered uncomfortably.

Weak, fully dependent, and yet the malevolent smirk that crossed the—What? Spirit?
Ghost?—*B**eing's* features was terrifying. “You cannot hide from me, Wormtail.” The
steely voice reminded his servant, sounding partially amused, partially insulted.

“I-I-I-I-I-I-I….w-w-w-what I-I m-m-mean-n to s-s-say is..I jus-s-t thought the M-m-mug-ggle
parents….The b-b-boy's p-p-parent-t-s…all w-w-w-witho-out the pro-pro-prot-ttection of
D-D-Dumbled-d-dore…” He could only brokenly whisper the powerful wizard's name in fear.

“Too weak.” Voldemort's voice hissed vehemently.

Wormtail internally battled for a second over whether his master was referring to him, or the
surrogates.

Voldemort—knowing his thoughts—answered cruelly, “Both!” He cackled mercilessly. “I
*understand* your shortcomings. I can *understand* your lack of confidence in a wizard as
ordinary—no, *sub*-ordinary— as yourself. But have some faith, you filthy *rat*, in your
*master's* abilities.” The spirit ridiculed, clearly insulted.

A dose of pain reminded the stuttering man of his place.

“Blood is important. I need both—as potent as possible. Do you not understand the Ancient Magic?
I will not be able to touch him—I need *his* blood to return—more powerful than ever before.
And the girl's…I do not think I need to stress to you the importance of *her* blood.”

Wormtail took a step back while nodding, tripping over his own feet.

“The blood of Salazar Slytherin himself courses through the Mudblood's veins. The
concentration, I admit, is not ideal. But, alas, it will only grow more diluted. I do not know when
my next chance will come. She is Of Age. She has excelled in her Magical education. Now…it is
time.” Voldemort contemplated, more to himself then his audience of a servant.

“You are not sure my plan will work.” It wasn't a question. Voldemort laughed a cruel, cold
sound, causing a chill to shiver down Wormtail's spine.

“Never doubt a fool to behave…like a fool.” Voldemort lectured. “Just as you should never doubt
true colors to always shine through—one way or another.” He laughed again sadistically as he caught
sight of his reflection in a filthy, dirt-crusted mirror hanging on the opposite wall. Red eyes
glowed brilliantly out of slits. Was he smoke? Cloud? A disembodied voice against nature, for sure.
His gaze slid upward slightly and focused on a simple piece of torn paper, flattened from a
previous crumpled-up state. “We cannot hide who we truly are.” His voice was softer now,
almost…condemned. “Just as you are a *rat* with an assignment.” He concluded menacingly.
“Bring me the boy.”

Despair still on the weak man's features, he spun—still on the ground—and Disapparated.

The Dark Lord continued to stare at his reflection, now alone. His features were barely
there—ready to disappear in a puff of smoke at any given moment.

But he felt stronger than he had in a long time—in almost seventeen years. Change was coming.
Wormtail—though nothing more than a bumbling excuse for a wizard—had proved useful. He had gone and
brought back vital information several times which paved the way for his plans.

Seventeen years he had been forced to wait in the shadows, not knowing a bigger plan was already
in motion. Not knowing his savior was in fact born and waiting…waiting for the guidance.

When he had been…destroyed, he wasn't sure how long he would have to wait. He listened for a
whisper of help, but none came. Wormtail had eventually found him, but he wasn't much better
off.

He still needed a body.

He waited. And waited. Patience was a quality he had been blessed with, despite his malevolence.
He had been able to dwell on his meaning, on what had brought him to this place. Perhaps, had he
been born…differently, things would have been very different for him. The blood mix, however, was
much too strong.

And he did not *want* to be different.

Merope Gaunt, his rather simpleton mother, had enticed his even fouler Muggle father, Tom
Riddle, with magic. Love. He left her once the enchantment ended—had she grown guilty? Did she
believe he truly loved her? Pregnant with his child, his tramp mother gave birth to him in an
orphanage and died hours after. Voldemort made a gagging noise as the memories of unraveling the
threads of his family tree came to mind.

After years of growing up in an orphanage, a long lost aunt had claimed him when he was seven
years old.

Auntie Merewald Granger. And old, bitter woman. A strict woman. A woman with too many secrets.
Secrets she entrusted in little Tom. She had been Merope's aunt. She had known…everything,
thanks to a deathbed confession from Mildred Gaunt as she begged for Merewald to take Merope,
apologizing for her selfishness. Her pleas were futile. Marvolo, despite his contempt for the
child, would not let her go.

Merewald's sister, Eadwynn, had been Merope's mother. Had been Marvolo's victim.

While the Gaunts and Grangers were both decedents from Salazar Slytherin, they, like most old
Wizarding families, had a feud between them. Marvolo Gaunt, an uncaring man with cold, malicious
hands and a conscious to match, had kidnapped Eadwynn when she was just seventeen years old. His
own wife, Mildred, could do nothing but watch in horror as he tortured the young girl. She would
hide in her room with her young son, Morfin Gaunt, and pretend nothing was happening. Mildred was
diagnosed with an incurable sickness that would claim her life all too soon. She didn't have
the strength to deal with Marvolo's actions.

She couldn't deny the young girl's weight gain. Her morning sickness. Chained to a dirty
mattress, always so disheveled. Hate for the girl—for enticing her husband—had taken a secondary
response to the maternal reaction she felt for the poor child. She tried to nurse her back to
health as the pregnancy continued. Marvolo was indifferent. An heir. Another son to carry on the
name.

When a baby girl was born, little Eadwynn cried. She knew this was not what Marvolo wanted. No,
she didn't want to please the man, but she knew that the baby would no doubt be
slaughtered.

Eadwynn begged Mildred on the night Merope was born during a raging storm for her to take the
child to her sister. Merewald would care for the infant, she had promised.

She was weak. Infection spread through her body. She knew she had only agonizing hours left. A
knife lay on the bedside table. With the last of her strength, she ordered the older woman, “Tell
him you had to cut it out of me,” and with that, she plunged the knife into her stomach.

Mildred was lost. The young girl was no longer breathing. Her husband would be returning soon.
She used the bloody knife to make a convincing cut—taking too much pleasure in her work, as part of
her still hated the child, barely Of Age.

Marvolo had been upset with the sex of his new child. He told Mildred to take care of it. They
didn't need another mouth to feed. He would dispose of Eadwynn's corpse himself. He grabbed
a shovel.

However, Mildred knew she was not able to have any more children. As her illness spread, she
knew her body could not bear the burden of it. She had always wanted a baby girl.

She plead with Marvolo, and after much convincing, he had allowed her to keep this
stranger's baby. Her best argument had been that, one day, this disease would take her life,
and he and his son would need someone to care for the house and see that they were taken care of.
She knew the life of slavery she had bargained for dear Merope, but she was selfish. She knew she
should have given the child to Merewald, but what would the woman do to her? What if she hated the
child for being the product of the torture and rape of her very own younger sister? No, she
couldn't do that.

Mildred cared for Merope as her own, despite the blood relation saying something completely
different.

Marvolo, however, had been her father. Marvolo Gaunt. Boastful of his ancestors. Fueled by hate
for his daughter, who didn't turn out nearly as beautiful as her mother. Her magic ability was
lacking. She'd slave the day away in the house, but nothing was clean. Mildred had not taught
her well enough before she had died just weeks after Merope's ninth birthday. During a brief
visit with his grandfather, Voldemort had uncovered that much. He could see clearly the abuse his
mother had endured. The abuse his grandmother Eadwynn had been subject to. His aunt Merewald could
tell him all the stories she wanted, but it was nothing like experiencing it. Experiencing the
wickedness and repulsion of which his mother was spawned.

His grandfather was his first murder. His Muggle father, for abandoning his mother and even him
while he was still in the womb was his second. The grandparents he never had, the grandparents who
never wanted him were next. The rich family that could have spared his life in the orphanage, the
life with his terrible, hate-fueled aunt who took him in only so she could torture him. Mold him
into exactly what she wanted to intact her vengeance. A vile woman, Auntie Merewald did not shy
away from harsh reality, nor did she expect little Tom to.

*“You are vile, Thomas. You are the creation of a disgusting man. He took my sister's
innocence—your grandfather**, Marvolo Gaunt**! Do you understand me, Thomas? Do you
understand how filthy you are? You will not turn out like him. I'll kill you myself.” She swore
vehemently, staring down at the small boy with obvious disdain. “Now go clean your room.* *God
hates a boy who can't keep clean. Laziness is for the Devil, Thomas, do you hear me?!**”
She ordere**d, pointing to the door that le**d to the cold, dark basement. The boy
quickly stumbled down the stairs, knowing the light from the wi**ndows wouldn't last much
longer, and he had only a little time before he would be trying to clean up in the dark—and he was
very much terrified of the dark.*

Voldemort scowled and turn his gaze away from the mirror. His memories, however, could not be
ignored as easily.

*“Thomas! Where have you been?!” His aunt screeched angrily.*

*The little boy trembled. “I found a cave, Auntie Merewald. I was exploring.”*

*“You evil little demon. Get your things packed. You know you start school tomorrow. I'll
be glad to be rid of your wretchedness for awhile. And remember, you keep your mouth shut at
Hogwarts and your head down. We don't need you to cause even more problems.”*

Voldemort's nostrils flared as the memories flashed before his eyes.

*“I want you do something for me, Thomas. Your scoundrel of a grandfather is out of Azkaban. I
want you to go to Little Hangleton. Remember what he did to me dear sister? Don't you think he
should pay, Thomas? Don't you think she should pay for what he did to your mother?* *He
hurt her, Thomas. He forced his ugliness inside of her. He tortured an innocent child!**”
She* *reminded* *him, leering.*

*A young boy of sixteen, brainwashed and beaten, abused and tortured, could only agree. Of
course he wanted the vile tramp to pay, and pay by the tip of his wand. “I will go, Auntie
Merewald. For you, and for me.” He assured her wit**h a handsome smile and dark eyes that,
despite his sheltered life, had already seen too much evilness—usually by the hand of his own
aunt.*

*His aunt smiled proudly. “Good, Thomas. You must make up for this. You've been exposed to
his immorality. To save yourself, you must excise yourself of his demons. Give them back so he can
take them to Hell. Remember, you are disgusting. Get rid of the wickedness* *so you can be
saved**.”*

*Handsome Tom Riddle nodded, understanding.*

*“Your father is in a manor in Little Hangleton. Perhaps you should pay him a visit as
well.* *The Devil himself can sort him out.**” She hinted, the wrinkles in her face doing
nothing to hide her real intentions, malicious as they were.*

*Young Tom Riddle learned early that looks can be deceiving.*

Voldemort looked around the pathetic room. The woman was poor. She was insane. She could not
offer him any better life than the orphanage—only more beatings.

But she tried, for the sake of her own ends.

Being back in her house caused him discomfort. He was ready for her to die. He knew if she
didn't go soon, he would do it himself with his new body.

Feeling particularly violent, Voldemort eased from his chair, a mere shadow of smoke barely
holding together. He leisurely made his way up the stairs, only on the surface contemplating the
state of his existence. “Nagini.” He hissed, and the answer was a loud thud of his serpent hitting
the ground before slithering towards the stairs.

Inside her bedroom, he slowly compacted himself into a dense smoke. She looked up from her bed,
graying and sick. Rosary beads sat on her bedside table. In his presence, the shaking frail woman
reached over and grabbed the crucifix. “Get out,” her voice pled, trembling.

Voldemort tilted his head to the side, not caring if she could distinguish the movement or not.
As Nagini came into view, Voldemort watched in delight as his aunt's eyes grew round. “Do not
fret, Auntie Merewald.” He purred before hissing to Nagini in Parseltongue.

The giant snake eased onto the bed and slowly encircled the paralyzed woman, doubling around her
frail neck.

“Does it hurt, Auntie Merewald?” Voldemort asked in sinful pleasure. The woman gagged in
response.

As much as he enjoyed the terrified look on her face, Voldemort called Nagini off. The snake
loosened her grip on his aunt and instead, just lay there, curled around her menacingly.

Voldemort sighed and decided to sit at her bedside, leering over her body. He wanted to knock
the rosary beads from her quivering hands, but knew the futility of the attempt. He was much too
weak. He shouldn't have punished Wormtail—it had taken a lot out of him.

“You're disgusting.” She heaved, her breathing shallow.

“So I have been told.” Voldemort replied chillingly.

When Wormtail had told him of the news of his long distant cousin, Hermione Granger, hope had
burst forth. It was exactly what he had been oh-so-patiently waiting for. And he would wait, here
in the house he hated, for just a little while longer wishing death on the woman in front of him in
the meantime. He would be her demon until she drew her last breath, a reflection of exactly what
she had done to him. She always talked of *his* sins…she was dying and she felt saved by God
himself. He liked to remind her, mercilessly, of her own transgressions. “Do not worry, Auntie
Merewald…I will kill you soon enough, and then you can fry in the pits of Hell with my
grandfather.” His voice was light, conversational—very unlike his usual hiss.

He lingered by her side, his mind now on the paper attached the cracked mirror on the first
floor—a small token of hope that his plan would indeed work.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

*Guileless son,
I'll shape your belief
And you'll always know that your father's a thief
And you won't understand the cause of your grief
But you'll always follow the voices beneath

Loyalty loyalty loyalty loyalty
Loyalty loyalty loyalty only to me

Guileless son,
Your spirit will hate her
The flower who married my brother the traitor
And you will expose his puppeteer behavior
For you are the proof of how he betrayed her loyalty

Loyalty loyalty loyalty loyalty
Loyalty loyalty loyalty only to me

Hush, child
Darkness will rise from the deep
And carry you down into sleep
Child, the darkness will rise from the deep
And carry you down into sleep

Guileless son,
Each day you grow older
Each moment I'm watching my vengeance unfold
For the child of my body, the flesh of my soul
Will die in returning the birthright he stole*

*“Moredred's Lullaby” HEATHER DALE*


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

A rat faced through the dark streets of Hogsmeade and disappeared into one of the many holes in
the foundation of the Shrieking Shack. Familiar pathways stretched out before him as he covered a
surprising distance at his speed. Wormtail managed to scramble from the roots of the Whomping
Willow at the base of the old tree. Next, he scurried his way across the dark lawn and found a weak
stone that granted entrance into the familiar school on his third—and final—surveillance
mission.

It was just after Twilight. Wormtail scampered down the familiar corridors and up the
staircases. He waited outside Gryffindor Tower behind a tapestry until a straggling student finally
called it a night and returned the Common Room. Wormtail dashed inside and into the Common Room.
His tiny eyes surveyed the room quickly, looking for either familiar face in the firelight.

Neither Harry Potter nor Hermione Granger was here. He went up the Boys' Staircase first,
but found Harry's bed empty. Agitated, he went to Hermione's solo room. Empty as well.

He would wait. He went back to Harry's dormitory and hid under his bedside table.

He watched as the other boys came in and talked of tomorrow's Quidditch match. They
commented on Harry's absence with smirks on their faces.

Wormtail perked up his ears, but he had already missed it.

Finally, with only the other boys' snores to keep him company, Wormtail drifted off into
fitful dreams himself.

He woke to a bedside table shaking slightly, as if it had been struck lightly. Wormtail scurried
forward and saw his target. Harry Potter eased his clothes off, a brilliant smile on his lips. He
hopped in bed happily and pulled his blankets up to his chin.

Wormtail was confused. His mood was…completely opposite compared to his last mission. Surly,
moody, angry because of a row with Hermione Granger. Now, he seemed light, buoyant, and optimistic.
His cheerful demeanor frustrated Wormtail. He has missed something. He would be punished for this.
Even in his Animagus form, the man visibly cringed.

Wormtail glared through beady eyes the offending student and quickly bustled back his hiding
spot. He would have to wait, he knew. He could not rush into this. He did not *want* to rush
into this. Kidnapping a student from Hogwarts…what was the Dark Lord thinking?

Wormtail woke early in the morning and stretched leisurely, working the kinks from his small
body after his uncomfortable night's sleep. His beady eyes took in his surroundings and
suddenly, he was alert. The circular dormitory was empty. Just the night before, the boys had been
talking about a Quidditch match today. Without wasting any time, Wormtail rushed from the dormitory
and headed out to the familiar pitch.

It was still early. The rat made his way to the locker rooms. The Potter boy was on the team. He
would tail him until Granger came into view. He suddenly skidded to a stop when he saw James and
Lily Potter, along with Sirius Black, conversing with their son just outside the locker rooms.
Sweat—even in his Animagus form—began to bead along his tiny forehead. If they saw him, they would
no doubt be able to recognize him in a second. Careful not to come into view, Wormtail slowly,
almost minutely, slunk forward in the shadows. Fear gripped him even more so when Sirius loud,
barking laughter reached his perked ears. To calm himself, Wormtail focused on Lily Potter. She was
still so beautiful. Memorized, Wormtail chanced another few inches forward to get a better
look.

In school, he had always been the nervous boy, the klutz. He was completely unremarkable. He
counted himself lucky to be able to call Sirius Black and James Potter his closest of friends. He
was forever envious of their friendship, of their coolness. He would have done anything to be
adored even a fraction of what they were. When James had gotten Lily…gorgeous, lovely Lily, it had
only been one more thing to be envious of. Wormtail felt heat rush to the surface of his body as he
thought about them, about how jealous he was. How many times had he hid in the shadows, the
shameless pervert, to watch them together snogging secretly in the Common Room when they thought
they were alone? Or when he followed them on their nighttime strolls, sneaking peeks. He'd
venture to say he knew Lily's body almost as well as James did. Memories flashed before his
eyes of Lily torturing James with a striptease, of a brassiere-clad Lily lying on James's bed
while James slowly began to unzip her jeans and his hand disappeared somewhere in them while he hid
under Sirius's bed—forever the voyeuristic, pathetic mate getting graphic images he could enjoy
later alone in his bed— completely invisible to the two lovers and hating that he had to be in his
Animagus form. If only he were human, like last time when he hid secretly in the closet, he
could—

“Let's go find a good seat, dear.” Wormtail was shaken from his reverie from Lily's
voice. He watched, barely breathing, as Lily—How long had it been since he'd last seen her?
Wormtail's eyes raked greedily over her body.—as her beautiful emerald eyes narrowed and her
lips tightened. As his hungry eyes lingered on the lovely Lily, he almost missed the familiar voice
he was looking for.

“Are you saying you'd be upset if you hadn't been standing out here and I had come in to
wish you good luck?” Hermione Granger asked innocently. Wormtail's eyes bulged. What was this?
Frantic, he crept forward quickly and perked his ears, determined not to miss a word.

Harry looked as if he was going to argue, but thought better of it.

The two students standing with Hermione, Ginny Weasley and Neville Longbottom who were fellow
Gryffindors, both wished Harry the best of luck and walked away.

A whistle blew somewhere, signaling it was almost time.

Wormtail continued to watch the awkward scene: a nervous Harry, a consolingly shy Hermione. She
leaned over to give him a long hug, then she pressed her lips to his cheek. “I won't wish you
good luck—you're too talented for that.” She said, her cheeks slightly flushed. Wormtail was
suddenly reminded of Lily and James. He tried to shake the slow heat that began to creep back into
his face as he stared at Hermione now in Lily's place, enjoying the smooth texture of her legs
that were revealed I her capris before his eyes moved to the curve of her breasts. Back to the
matter at hand, he stared at the pair of Gryffindors more intensely as if the reason behind this
sudden truce would appear out of this air.

Another friend came into view, Luna Lovegood from Ravenclaw, and after a quick good-bye to
Harry, Wormtail followed the two girls to their seats. He sat under their seats for quite some time
before growing restless and dashing for the stairs. He didn't need to really tail them anymore.
That wasn't his mission. His mission was to abduct.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Voldemort sat in his chair, unmoving yet restless. He waited. He could hear Nagini slithering
somewhere nearby, hissing about a rat just out of her reach.

Three days. Wormtail had been gone for three days. For his previous missions, this wouldn't
have been a big deal. He was simply watching, looking for something to help them with the task at
hand. How lucky it was for the nitwit to stumble upon exactly what they needed under a bedside
table, innocently wasting away with dust bunnies. His red eyes involuntarily looked up at his token
of hope.

For a long time, Voldemort stared forward into the mirror, seeing nothing. It wasn't until a
loud crash sounded from the other room that he moved. “*Nagini**,”* he hissed, sending
the snake to check out the source of the commotion. A minute later, Wormtail came wheezing into the
room, pulling someone by their shirt collar and dragging a kitchen chair in the other hand. A black
bag was covering the prisoner's face and Voldemort saw the sudden reason for the guest's
cooperation: Nagini had coiled herself menacingly around his arms and midsection. While the boy
could not technically see her, surely he could feel her sheer muscle and hear the threatening hiss
so close to his face. “*Good job, my precious Nagini*,” Voldemort purred softly in
Parseltongue.

Wormtail sat the chair down so it was facing Voldemort and roughly pushed the boy into it,
careful not to touch the giant snake.

For several long seconds, nobody moved. Finally, Voldemort nodded. “Let us not be rude,
Wormtail. Take the bag off his head and let us welcome our guest properly.”

Wormtail loosened the drawstring and tugged the black bag free, revealing the disoriented
seventeen year old boy.

**Uh-oh! Haha review and I might put it out sooner!!!!!!! Also, I wrote/finished a story called
Outlet recently, so if you haven't checked that out, I suggest you to. I've heard good
things about it.**

**Please review!**
 Document created with wvWare/wvWare version 1.2.7
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30. Exactly Right
-----------------



**Hey everyone! Here's the next chapter—I don't have much time but I wanted to post
before work so I can come home to lots and lots of awesome reviews.** **Anyway, I've finally
decided how to go about this (I have the whole future planned out it, it was the middle that I had
problems with) and I THINK…the next chapter will be the last chapter of this story, if not that
one, then the one after that. The second story in this trilogy is name pending Calm Before The
Storm, so keep an eye out. Anyway, let me know what you think! And thanks for all the reviews from
the last chapter! I will reply to them later when I get home!**

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter Twenty-Nine: Exactly Right**

*This time, this place
Misused, mistakes
Too long, too late
Who was I to make you wait

Just one chance
Just one breath
Just in case there's just one left
'Cause you know,
You know, you know

That I love you
I have loved you all along
And I miss you
Been far away for far too long

I keep dreaming you'll be with me
And you'll never go
Stop breathing if
I don't see you anymore*

*“Far Away” NICKELBACK*

The cheers surrounding him were deafening, but he paid no mind. All Harry could concentrate on
was the feel of Hermione's soft lips on his own demanding ones. He didn't care that the
headmaster was calling for the Gryffindor team to come to the podium for him to present them with
the Quidditch House Cup. He didn't care that his parents' eyes were no doubt trained on his
uncaring back. He didn't even care that Ginny made a mock disgusted sound and told them to get
a room. He only pulled Hermione closer and deepened the kiss. One thought was on his mind: Hermione
was kissing him back just as passionately as her hands tugged lightly at the ends of his untidy
hair and she gave the softest moan of approval as his lips pressed harder against hers.

Another set of rougher hands yanked at the back of his arms. “Come on, Romeo.” He barely
registered Draco's voice. “McGonagall is threatening to take points away for inappropriate
conduct if you don't get your arse down there mate.” He laughed.

Even though Harry was easily ignoring his friend, Hermione managed to hear his message loud and
clear and pulled away. She rested her forehead on his own while trying to catch her breath.

“Congratulations. That was amazing.” She said, referring to the game.

“Then why did you stop?” Harry asked before capturing her lips a second time. He felt her giggle
against his mouth before drawing back again.

“I was talking about the game.” She laughed.

Harry shrugged and pulled her lips back to his. “I wasn't.” He mumbled against her lips
insistently.

Hermione pushed him away, much to Harry's irritation. “*Go*! We can't do this later
if you're in detention.” She persuaded. Harry felt his stomach jolt in response.

“So there will be a later?” He asked slowly, raising his eyebrows.

“There will most *definitely* be a later.” She promised with a smile.

Harry gave her one last quick peck before pulling her onto his broom and shooting down to the
ground, chuckling at Hermione's laughter at the sudden attack. He held her upright in his
strong grip, careful not to jostle her too much because she was so precariously perched on him
broom, it wasn't exactly safe.

He landed flawlessly and walked over to join his team who were surrounded by fans,
Hermione's hand firmly in his own. He didn't pay attention to Dumbledore's announcement
of the Gryffindor team winning the House Cup or McGonagall's speech on her House's hard
work. His attention was solely on Hermione, looking for any sign of regret. As if she could read
his mind, she just rolled her eyes and grinned. He vaguely heard his name being called, but
wasn't sure if it really happened until he felt Hermione push him in the direction of the
podium. The many hands of the team and admirers continued to urge him along, as if knowing he
needed corralled in the right direction. Finally, he came face to face with his Head of House. What
had he missed?

“What?” He asked, dazed.

It was as if the older lady knew the reason for his bemused expression. Her look was torn
between disapproval and happiness at her House's win. “And the team captain, Harry Potter.”
Dumbledore's voice broke through his reverie. The House Cup was suddenly thrust into his hands
by McGonagall. Feeling the cold trophy in his hands, it was if someone had turned the volume back
up and everything came into sharp focus. For a few seconds, he forgot what had just transpired
between himself and Hermione. They had *won*!

Harry looked back over the faces of his team; everyone was on cloud nine. Without warning, Harry
jumped up on the large podium and thrust the trophy in the air. “For Gryffindor!” He shouted over
the roars of approval. The pure adrenaline coursing through him was surely enough to make someone
explode. He watched as McGonagall tried to keep a disapproving face but couldn't quite manage
it. Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkling below him as he elbowed a sour-faced Snape.

Harry hopped down and pushed the trophy on Draco, who passed it to Ron then Jeremy. It continued
down the line, Harry right behind it. He hugged his best friends and teammates one by one,
mentioning anything and everything he could remember that he saw them contribute to the game, to
their season in general. Finally, he met Hermione at the end of the line, her eyes bright. He
hugged her tightly, inhaling the wonderful scent of her hair. Tears threatened to spill over his
eyes, partly from happiness, partly from sadness for this being his last game.

“Harry, my boy!” James suddenly clapped his hand on his son's shoulder. Harry turned in
Hermione's arms to see his parents and Godfather. “Excellent game. You really led your team to
victory.” Harry hugged his father, then his mother who was crying, and finally, his Godfather.

“My baby's last game!” Lily cried, wiping her tears.

James hugged her close to her side, “Aw, come on Lils, let's not ruin this day for him. You
must have coached your team brilliantly to pull off a game like that, son. *Five hundred to
eighty*?!”

Harry laughed. “It was my teammates; they're a great bunch.” He assured, looking over at his
teammates with an expression of pride.

James nodded and began to pull his son in the opposite direction. “Come on. I talked to the
scouts for Puddlemere United, the Appleby Arrows, the Tutshill Tornados, the Cannons, and even the
Holyhead Harpies. Still much to do.”

Harry chuckled. “The Harpies, Dad? That's an all-female team...you know I'm a bloke,
right?”

James gave a shrug. “I know. It can't hurt though, can it? Now let's go see if we can
find the captains for the Falcons. I heard they were here somewhere. I don't think we should
limit it to all British teams, but that is who is here now.”

“Also, the Montrose Magpies. I saw Johnson earlier.” Sirius interjected, grabbing Harry's
other arm as they lead him away.

Harry looked back in the direction of Hermione, who smiled encouragingly. She gave a supportive
head nod and turned around to disappear in the crowd.

Hermione didn't get too far before a pair of eager hands grabbed her and pulled her into a
hug. “Oh Merlin, that was so hot!” Ginny gushed in Hermione's ear, causing the brunette to
redden. “What does this mean?!”

Hermione disentangled herself from the redhead and tried to give a nonchalant shrug. “I'm
not quite sure. His parents need him now so…we'll talk about it later.”

Ginny nodded approvingly. “Let's go congratulate my brother then go back to the Common Room
for the party.”

Hermione nodded, and tried to stand on the tips of her toes to get a better view of the
crowd.

Finding the two Gryffindors was easy, but getting to them was no simple task. Surrounded by
adoring fans, Ginny and Hermione had to push themselves through the packed crowd.

“Draco!” Hermione called, trying to get the blonde's attention. “Draco!” She finally managed
to tug on the back of his robes, which caused him to whip around. His trademark smirk melted into
the rare genuine smile when his eyes met hers and she let him pull her in for a hug. “That was
brilliant. Congratulations!” Hermione half-gushed.

Draco laughed at her excitement and hugged her again. “Thanks. And what about you! Snogging
right there in front of everyone…I'm impressed.” His smirk was back, which caused Hermione to
blush ten times more than Ginny's comment.

“Oh whatever.” She tried to hide her face in her hands, but Draco was having none of it. He
grabbed her hand firmly with one of his own and gestured with the other, “Hermione, this is my
mother and father.” He spun her around effortlessly to meet a very attractive, very tall, very
blonde couple. Hermione gasped. It was obvious Draco was a spitting image of the two of them. They
were both pale with his white blonde hair hanging stick straight and long, contrasting with his own
shorter messy-with-every-hair-perfectly-in-place head. His father had pale gray eyes while his
mother had icy blue ones. She was very slender with an uncomfortable expression on her face, one of
snobby nonchalance. His father had a look of bored superiority. Their arrogant demeanor was not
what caused Hermione to gasp, however. She recognized Draco's father, knew his name without
Draco even saying it. Lucius. Another figment of her imagination from her old night terrors that
wasn't a figment after all.

“H-hello.” Hermione recovered herself quickly as she glanced between the two Malfoys.

“You must be Miss Granger.” Lucius's voice was suave, reminding her very much of Draco but
without Draco's selective warmth he saved for certain people—her being one of them. Hermione
nodded lightly, trying to piece together a smile. “Nice to meet you.” He said slowly, though
Hermione got the feeling he didn't quite feel that way. His cold eyes somehow managed to burn
holes in hers as he stared at her.

“You too.” She squeaked before turning her attention back to Draco. “Um, I'm going to go
find Ron and tell him congratulations. I'll catch up with you later?” Hermione asked, ready to
get away from the Malfoys' haughty scrutiny.

“Sure.” Draco said, still completely at ease. He jerked his thumb toward a large, loud crowd.
“Follow the noise; I'm sure you'll find him.”

Hermione forced a laugh and pushed herself through the crowd to Ginny, who was waiting awkwardly
with Neville. She had an apologetic look on her face. “Sorry. His parents just don't really
like my family…” She explained while biting her lip uncomfortably.

She suppressed a shudder. “I don't think they really like anybody,” Hermione acknowledged,
still feeling cold from his father's icy, penetrating gaze.

Ginny shrugged. “Ron is enjoying himself.” She noted, nodding towards the loud group Draco had
pointed her toward. Ron was on the shoulders of his fellow housemates, and the cup had somehow
managed to circulate back to him. He laughed with Kofacts, who was also surfing the crowd. Hermione
reached into her pocket and pulled out her camera. She zoomed in on Ron and snapped a few pictures.
He looked so happy. On an impulse, she whirled back around and brought the Malfoy family into her
camera lens. Trying not to look too closely at the terrifying head of the family, she took a couple
quick photos before they could notice. When she turned back to Ron, Ginny was looking away,
suddenly interested in what Neville was saying. Hermione wasn't sure if this was genuine or if
Ginny didn't want to get caught catching Hermione spying on the attractive family. “Let's
see if we peasants can touch the king while he's surrounded by his loyal subjects,” Hermione
said before leading the beeline for her friend.

On the outside, Hermione was shoving through the crowd. Inside, Hermione was screaming. While
her night terrors were all but forgotten, sporadic thoughts of them still surfaced. Being with
Harry had helped them go away somehow. During their row, Hermione was so stressed out about him
that she hadn't thought of much else. When they had made up, once again, she hadn't had
time to be bothered by old nightmares she had gotten over long ago.

But seeing Draco's father, having him sprung on her like that…it once again brought a whole
new wave of terror. Also, seeing another new familiar face…it was unsettling. Was there a line? Or
was everyone from her nightmares real? Also, yes, she knew about Draco's family…but actually
seeing the connection with her night terrors and one of her best friend's family…to know that
Draco was a part of that family...Suddenly, Hermione scoffed with a matching smirk—who was she to
judge? After all, Voldemort was her ancestor!

Ginny looked over, concerned, “Something wrong?”

Hermione quickly replaced her smirk with a smile. “No, just a funny thought.” She didn't
bother explaining, and Ginny didn't ask.

Hermione was determined not to let this ruin the day. It was an important day for Harry—her
what? *Boyfriend*? She didn't know what that was now. It was also important for Ron and
Draco—two of her best friends. And of course, as Harry stressed, it was an important win for her—a
*Gryffindor*. Instead of thinking about this new, unsettling connection to a frightening time
period of her time here at Hogwarts, instead of brooding more on how her close friend was part of
this family, Hermione put on the perfect façade.

Finally within reach of Ron, she and Ginny stood next to Luna and all three girls beamed up at
the Gryffindor Keeper. He caught their eyes and with borderline-reluctance, hopped down from the
shoulders of his fellow housemates. He hugged each of them, eyes bright with excitement from all
the attention. “Goodness Ron, I'm not sure your inflated head will make it through the castle
doors!” Hermione joked good-naturedly at the look of superiority Ron cast around.

He hugged her again in response, his grin infectious and for a few seconds, Hermione forgot
about all her troubles.

Reality came crashing down, however, once Ron's attention was diverted. Ginny leaned close
and had almost shout in her ear over the noise, “Let's head back up to the Common Room—there
will sure to be a party!” She gushed excitedly.

Hermione's grin faltered. “I actually need to sort some things out—how about I catch up with
you later?” Still unnerved, Hermione just wanted to get away for a few minutes.

Ginny was having none of it. “No! I know what you're doing, and I'm not going to let
you!”

Confused, Hermione raised an eyebrow.

“You completely adore him. You don't exactly hide it very well.” Ginny laughed.

Still bemused, Hermione shook her head. How could Ginny think this? How could she know anything?
She didn't adore Draco. She had found him attractive, but that didn't mean anything. She
had a special place in her heart for his friendship, yes, but not like…nothing compared to…

“*Harry*!” Ginny said with a roll of her eyes at Hermione's baffled expression. “I know
what you are trying to do. You're going to go and talk yourself out of it. You need to get out
of your head for awhile.” Ginny continued as they broke away from the crowd but still followed the
throng of students back to the school. “So you are staying here with me until he comes back. And
I'm not going to *let* you think!” The redhead promised. Ginny's voice was sudden
sharp. “You've got it just as bad for him as he does for you! *This is happening*. You are
not escaping; don't make me put a hex on you binding yourself to me at the hip—I will.” The
fiery redhead warned.

Harry. Of course. Ginny couldn't see the special bond between herself and Draco. Hermione
almost laughed with relief. However, before she could, as her memory rewound just a little further
back before she met the Malfoy family, to the end of the match…her laugh transformed into a dazed
expression as a soft smile crossed her lips.

Ginny stared at her with an I-told-you-so look that spoke volumes, causing Hermione's cheeks
to redden. She knew the girl was right. She already knew just how bad she had it for Harry. And
this was what she was waiting for, right? “Don't be ridiculous. I'm not going to go hide in
my dormitory.”

“I know. I won't let you. You want him badly, and he's made it pretty clear he wants
you…so…” Ginny trailed off with a wink. “So until they come back from their celebratory steak
dinner…you are my shadow.”

Ginny's serious expression caused Hermione to laugh before her words registered in her mind.
“Their what?” Hermione asked, stopping mid-step.

Ginny looked slightly taken aback. “You know, the steak dinner Harry's parents always take
the whole team on if they win the cup? Every year, his parents book reservations, and they go to
some fancy-schmancy Muggle steakhouse in London to celebrate their win. He didn't tell you
this?”

Hermione shook her head, “He's never mentioned it. But then again, we did just start talking
again...” she reasoned.

Ginny shrugged, “Don't worry; he'll be back in a few hours.”

Hermione looked back into the sea of people behind her, searching for a familiar face. Feeling
slightly depressed, she turned back towards the castle and began walking again. Ginny, almost giddy
with excitement, didn't even try to conceal her knowing grin.

The Common Room was already loud with various noises as they finally made it through the
Portrait Hole. A fast track blasted from a small radio hid somewhere on a table over-laden with
sweets and finger foods and drinks. Hermione managed to find a vacant chair with Ginny plopping
down on the poufy armrest, Neville in toe. Hermione Summoned a Butterbeer from the table and
surveyed the crowd surrounding her. Some of the more fervent Quidditch enthusiasts mimicked to each
other their favorite moves from the game or season in general. Clusters of girls giggled loudly
with each other, talking about their favorite Quidditch hunk—and not just those on the Gryffindor
team.

As her observed, she was reminded of her very first Quidditch celebration all those months ago
that led to her near expulsion. Her company was infinitely better. She was glad to see that Neville
was still talking to her. As her eyes roamed the crowd, she sought out the faces of Parvati and
Lavender. They caught her eye and instead of scowling, their eyes lit up and they rushed toward
her.

“Oh my gosh, Hermione, what *was* that!? You and Harry?! The way he grabbed you…” Lavender
trailed off dreamily.

Parvati grinned, “That was so romantic! Are you two a couple now!?”

Hermione laughed uncomfortably, not wanting to say anything before talking to Harry first to see
exactly how things were between the two of them. Ginny came to the rescue and distracted them with
her own gushing.

Hermione smiled her thanks and ducked away from the giggling girls to get a plate of snacks. As
she filled her plate, she smiled at just how much had changed since the beginning of the year. No
one looked at her with scorn. While she wasn't a favorite of anyone's—except maybe
Harry's—she wasn't on anyone immediate enemies list. It was as if she had grown into a
familiar wart or mole that was embarrassingly always out on display. At first hated and a reason to
be self-conscious, but eventually…it's like “well, it's there, no reason to be bothered by
it.” Mostly ignored, she just coasted through their lives—a nobody.

She knew the reason for her new status. Everyone had shunned Harry when he had become friends
with her but…he was such a likable bloke, so full of life that it was hard to write him off. He was
always so happy-go-lucky and funny that people wanted to be around him, just to share a small part
of his life. People wanted to bask in the confidence he radiated and benefit from his kind heart.
Harry had the personality that a person just couldn't keep out, very much like how *she*
couldn't keep him out. And as he slowly eased back into everyone's lives, somehow he towed
her along with him. She was the opening act—no one goes to the show for it, but they find
themselves enjoying it all the same—while Harry was the main event.

Considering from where she started, a nobody sounded like a fair exchange.

00000000

How many hours had gone by? The party had slowed to a dull roar as people grouped into small
clusters, winding down. As Hermione monopolized the couch with her arm casually thrown across her
eyes, she silently laughed at the welcoming the Quidditch players would no doubt come to:
half-eaten food strewn about the room, the animated spirits wound down to casual good moods, the
match quite *over*-discussed at this point…Hermione smiled. She was sure she had heard the
same person tell the same story at least five times and she herself could recall it perfectly at
this point. The team would come here and find a bunch of party poopers. She wondered idly if they
had their own party, or if the atmosphere would suddenly become more energized with their
arrival.

Hermione looked at her wristwatch. It was getting late into the evening—almost eight
`o'clock. Ginny had finally left her side. Hermione flirted with the idea of making the great
escape to her dormitory—not to avoid Harry, but because she honestly felt tired. As she dozed off,
dreaming of comfy beds and plush pillows, Hermione felt something soft and warm slide easily into
her open palm.

She didn't need to open her eyes from her sleepy state to know who it was. Now aware of her
surroundings, she noticed the volume of the Common Room had increased. Hermione squeezed
Harry's hand back lightly, silently telling him she knew he was there. She peeked out of the
corner of her eye and sure enough, Harry had found his a place to sit on the floor at her head, his
fingers lazily playing with hers. His eyes were dark emerald in the firelight.

“Hey you.” He greeted huskily.

Hermione turned on the couch so she could face him. “Hey,” she replied softly. Before she could
stop herself, before she could even decide whether or not she *wanted* to stop herself, she
found the words spill from her lips, “I missed you.”

He grinned. “Ditto.”

“You never told me you were going to play Houdini and disappear after the match.” Hermione
accused playfully.

Harry grimaced. “Sorry. It's been a hectic week—I never got around to mentioning my
father's tradition.”

Hermione pulled herself up so Harry could sit on the couch. “And what would happen if you guys
lost?” She asked innocently, allowing Harry to pull her head back down and into his lap.

A thoughtful expression overtook his features. “Well, I know I certainly wouldn't be missing
out on the steak dinner…I imagine we'd just celebrate being losers.” He laughed. “I brought you
back dessert.” He said, nodding his head in the direction of a small Styrofoam box.

“Thank you.” Hermione replied with a smile as her eyes focused other their interlaced hands.
Harry caught her staring but said nothing and only lightly squeezed her palm.

Did they need to talk about this?

As if reading her mind, Harry's words trailed behind her own thoughts, “So…I guess we should
talk?”

What was there to say that hadn't already been said?

“I don't really want to talk.” Hermione spoke slowly but boldly before snaking her hand up
around the nape of his neck and pulling his smiling lips towards hers.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

*I'm in like with
Not in love with you quite yet
My heart's beginning to
Slightly overrule my head

Oh no, oh no
My self control
It won't hold up for very long
Oh no, oh no
You touch my soul
I can't help falling too fast for you

Can you hold on a bit
Stop before we go
'cause I might need a moment
And I wouldn't wanna spoil it

Who knows if I am ready or not
Only time will tell
Who knows if we are ready to make this something
Who knows

Maybe this is love
But I haven't fallen in quite yet*

*“Who Knows” NATASHA BEDINGFIELD*


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Blue eyes—usually cold as ice—wide with nothing short of fearing for his life, looked up and
into a set of gleaming red coals of…something. The features kept shifting and the—smoke?—seemed to
barely be holding together and threatened to dissipate at any moment.

“Jonathon Avery.” The cold voice hissed appreciatively. He let out another series of hissing
noises and Nagini uncoiled herself around her captive.

“W-who are you?” The boy stuttered, his eyes now following the snake that, though released him,
remained too close for comfort.

Voldemort laughed. “You know who I am, Jonathon. But I shall mind my manners and introduce
myself and my servant properly. I am Lord Voldemort, and this rat is Peter Pettigrew.” The Dark
Lord spoke softly.

“H-how? Why? But you're s-supposed to be d-d—.” Still unable to string his words together
properly, the young Slytherin looked back and forth between the two men that stood before him while
casting uneasy glances on the snake slithering over his left foot.

“Oh do not mind her, my young friend. Nagini will only attack if I command her to. And to answer
your question…I am very much alive, though I think we can both agree, regrettably, that I am not in
the most…*advantageous* state. This is where you come in… I…require a body.” Voldemort
murmured coldly.

“What does this have to do with m-me?” Avery whispered, his gaze on the wand lying beside the
spirit, which Voldemort was now caressing with a sudden hand that grew from somewhere in the
disembodied mist that was his essence.

“My servant has made several trips to Hogwarts, and relayed his gatherings back to me. To make a
new and improved body, I need blood.” Voldemort replied.

“M-m-my blood?” The dark- haired boy asked as fear filled his eyes once more.

Voldemort let out a high pitched laugh. “Do not flatter yourself, my young friend. Your blood is
nothing compared to what I need. But that is not a matter at the moment. No…what can you tell me
about Hermione Granger?”

With obvious relief, Avery sat up straighter and leaned forward—ready to aid the Dark Lord now
that he knew he wasn't going to die. His usual suave confidence took charge and his voice grew
stronger as he stared at a spot just above Voldemort's head, too nervous to keep eye contact.
“Anything you want to know. My father brought me up right. He was—still is—a loyal follower of
yours. At first he was angry that Hermione came to Hogwarts. How dare she show her face if she
wasn't going to follow in your footsteps? Your own blood!” Avery exclaimed. “But then after
witnessing her attack a fellow student, I was drawn in. She hadn't been a part of the Wizarding
World, so perhaps she wasn't aware of her potential. With my father whispering advice in my
ear, I was able to trick Hermione and cast a spell on her that would allow me to control her
dreams. I showed her the type of power she was capable of. She didn't have any friends, and I
played on that…until Harry Potter got in the way. I even tried to persuade her—by impersonating his
best friends when I put the spell on her for the dreams—that Potter would have nothing to do with
her because suddenly, he wanted to befriend her.

“Anyway, I tried several attempts at luring her towards me—I could tell she was tempted by the
bait of her dreams. I told her I would help her achieve greatness. My father did not know you were
still alive, that's why he wanted me to try to help her, so she could pick up where you left
off.” Avery's long winded speech finally grew silent and he shifted his gaze to Voldemort's
face, only briefly taking in his calculating expression before resuming his eye contact above the
Dark Lord's forehead.

“And were you successful? I have a journal entry—or part of one—that certainly supports your
claim that she was indeed tempted by the Dark Arts. But my servant informs me that he has not seen
any contact between you and Miss Granger….explain.” Voldemort's hiss held the cold undertones
of a threat that did not go unnoticed by Avery.

The boy reached up and wiped the sweat from his brow as his nervousness increased. “I-I…Harry
Potter would not give up, and he poisoned her mind with all these notions of them being best
friends and the Wizarding World accepting her. I couldn't even talk to her anymore. I was
biding my time. After the school year, with her possibly away from Potter, I was going to attempt
again.” Avery hastily explained.

Voldemort shook his head. “Liar. You had no plans to make any more attempts. But no matter. What
you could not do, I will. You will be useful to me yet, do not fear. Unless…unless you would rather
renounce me now, return to school, and pretend like this had never happened…?” Voldemort tilted his
head to the side, as if he was really giving him the choice.

Avery suddenly felt cold. His father had told me too many stories about Voldemort for him to be
fooled. He knew what would happen to him if he refused Voldemort. There was no way the Dark Lord
was going to let him walk away from this. Besides, this is exactly what he was trying to bring
about, was it not? Why settle for Hermione when you could follow the real thing? “Of course not…my
lord. Please, wield me as you see fit. My only wish is to serve you.”

Voldemort nodded, as if he had seen the internal battle and was unsurprised with the outcome.
“Good choice. Now, we have much planning to do.”


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

*Hey kid (hey kid)
Do I have your attention?
I know the way you've been living
Life's so reckless, tragedy endless
Welcome to the family

Hey
There's something missing
Only time will alter your vision
Never in question, lethal injection
Welcome to the family

Not long ago you find the answers were so crystal clear
Within a day you find yourself living in constant fear
Can you look at yourself now, can you look at yourself?
You can't win this fight*

*“Welcome To The Family” AVENGED SEVENFOLD*


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Bright light spilling into the room caused Hermione to stir from her slumbering state. She
stretched out lazily on her bed, slowly working the kinks from her body. Much like every morning
lately, a permanent smile engulfed her features as she began the day. She showered and brushed her
teeth, mentally humming a cheerful tune in her head. A quick glance at the clock told her that
Harry would still be asleep, no doubt. That was fine by her. She liked to get to breakfast early to
do a bit of studying before Harry joined her because once he had her attention, attempting to study
was futile. With her N.E.W.T.S. fast approaching, Hermione needed to study every chance she could
spare.

At that thought, a blush and—if possible—an even larger smile both crept onto her features. It
had been three weeks since the Quidditch match that had changed the paradigm of her relationship
with Harry. The unspoken transition from friends to more-than-friends had been almost too easy.
It's funny to think about now, how nervous she had been that morning after the game. But Harry
had greeted her in the Common Room, a grin on his face and a peck on her cheek. He had taken her
book bag, despite Hermione's claims that she could handle it. Hand-in-hand, they walked down to
the Great Hall.

They had been—and still were—a rather hot commodity. After pretty well declaring themselves in
front of the entire school, there was no keeping anything secret. Everywhere they walked, eyes
followed. The students of Hogwarts had all but had a heart attack when Hermione Granger and Harry
Potter had become *friends*, but *this*—it was *huge*: A Potter romancing a
Granger—who would have thought?!

But that hadn't fazed Hermione and Harry in the slightest. Hermione had spent too many
months wasted. Draco's words kept coming back to her, and she just grinned each time because he
had been completely right. She wasn't going to let anyone rule her life, and she was tired of
sitting on the sidelines, waiting for Life to pick up. No, she wanted Harry Potter, and dammit,
*she would have him*!

The physical aspect of their relationship was surprisingly easy and comfortable. They were both
so new at the snogging, that Hermione found it difficult to get too embarrassed when she did
something stupid. While they were only three weeks in and new to this whole relationship, they
hadn't done a whole lot of snogging, but when they did…well, Hermione found it quite enjoyable.
That thought made her blush even more. Ginny had tried giving her tips and instructions, but
talking about it with the experienced redhead made Hermione feel very self-conscious and
uncomfortable, and frankly, she did *not* need to know “what Neville liked.” Harry had told
her that Ron and Draco were giving him a few pointers as well, though he would never disclose
exactly what those pointers were.

After one last look in the mirror, Hermione scooped her bag up from the floor and swung it over
her shoulder before heading towards the door.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

“Three weeks! Three weeks until your N.E.W.T.S. I cannot stress how important this time is for
you. These tests will…”

Harry allowed for McGonagall's voice to fade in the background as he absently tuned her out.
He inattentively doodled faces on his notes. A sharp pain on his arm caught his attention and he
looked up to meet Hermione's glare. He heaved a heavy sigh and focused on the Transfiguration
professor once more, forcing his mind take in her words. It was the same speech that she had given
at least once a week since the middle of his Sixth Year. He could just about recite it perfectly
himself.

His attention span lasted only a few minutes before he grew bored once again. Instead of
drawing, he turned his focus on Hermione. He smiled and watched her furiously scribble
McGonagall's words down on a piece of paper, underlining and highlighting as she went. She had
ink smudge on her chin from her first pen exploding and getting all over her fingers.

These last few weeks had been the best of his life, hands down. Despite his nose being red from
being rubbed raw against the proverbial grindstone, he couldn't have been happier. He had won
the Quidditch Cup, they were in the lead for the House Cup in points, he had the two best mates a
bloke could ask for, and finally, he had Hermione—who turned out to be an even more amazing
girlfriend than friend.

His parents had not been fond of the idea. When they had taken the team to the annual
celebratory steak dinner for winning the cup, they hadn't said a word about it. Harry could
tell—despite his previous chat with her during Easter break—his mother had been rather vexed that
evening; Harry knew it wouldn't have taken long to discover the cause. However, he pretended
not to notice and instead went about like nothing was wrong because honestly, nothing was.
Everything was exactly right for once.

“Potter!” McGonagall's sharp voice rang through the otherwise silent classroom in an obvious
irritated voice—much as she had done for the last seven years when calling Harry out for not paying
attention. And just like he always had, Harry's head whipped up to meet her staring daggers at
him.

As the scene played out like déjà vu, sadness washed over Harry as he widened his eyes and tried
to look guiltless, just as he always did when she did this, “Yes, professor?” Harry asked
innocently. How many times had this exact thing happened? Nostalgia struck him as effectively as
being hit over the head with a hammer. It was suddenly hitting him that his time at Hogwarts really
was coming to an end.

“It would do you good to pay attention and stop staring at Miss Granger.” She warned him in an
impatient voice.

Beside him, Hermione flushed bright scarlet and quickly bent over her notes and continued to
write furiously, as if she couldn't hear the exchange taking place. Harry knew he was going to
pay for this later but, taken by this sudden mad urge to savor every second of Hogwarts, he
couldn't turn down a good banter with his favorite professor. “She just looks so beautiful
today, professor, I couldn't help myself. You are a very lovely lady, don't get me wrong,
but I stared at you all day yesterday.” Harry pulled a pained expression. “Please, professor,
don't be stingy with me—there is plenty of Harry to go around.” He winked at the
Transfiguration professor, crossing his fingers under the table that he didn't go too far.

From the corner of his eye, he saw that Hermione's blush had turned into a dark crimson. She
and Professor McGonagall were wearing matching expressions: murderous glares that Harry had seen
more times than he could count. However, behind those glares, Harry could also see that they were
both fighting the urge to laugh at his antics. The rest of the class was stifling their own
giggles. Harry could almost see the steam coming from McGonagall's ears. “Potter, see me after
class.”

Harry nodded as if he hadn't expected anything less. He made a clicking noise with his
tongue and a finger-gun gesture with his hand and combined it with another wink. “Got it.
Detention, Saturday morning—6:00 a.m. It's a date, babe.”

McGonagall's nostrils flared and her hands came up to rest on her temples and rubbed in
slow, soothing circles. “Out. Just…get out of my class, Potter. And yes—6:00 a.m., my office. Now
please, *get out*! If you are not going to take your tests seriously, I am not going to let
you disrupt the class for those who want to learn.” Her voice was stern, and Harry knew he was
dancing on the line.

With a causal flick of his wand, his books and notes gathered into his open book bag in seconds.
He flashed Hermione a sly grin before walking towards the exit. “Don't worry, professor,
I'll bring breakfast!” He called behind him before the door shut loudly behind him.

Harry knew winding McGonagall up—especially this close to exams—probably wasn't the best
thing to do, but he couldn't help it. He didn't have many more chances to get under her
skin. All of a sudden, he was freaking out. He had known all year that he would not be returning
here in September. It would be time for him to start training in a field that he hadn't even
decided on yet. It was passing too quickly. He had had his bouts of nostalgia on and off all year,
but this was less of a bout and more of a full blown attack.

Harry checked his watch and saw that he still had an hour before Hermione would be out of class.
He walked briskly to a statue of Donny the Delight that was down the corridor a bit and stashed his
book bag and robes behind his tipped top hat. He then took off in a sprint down the corridor. Once
he got to the Entrance Hall, he almost ran straight into the Headmaster and Professor Snape.

Instead of throwing out his arms to catch Harry's shoulders, the Potion's master simply
side-stepped to allow Harry to crash to the floor. However, before Harry could fall, Dumbledore had
whipped out his wand and an invisible set of hands snatched Harry up by the back of his shirt,
righting him on his feet.

“Woah, Mr. Potter—is something wrong?” Professor Dumbledore asked, slightly alarmed.

Harry shook his head. “No, I was just going out to the grounds—see what I can see, take it all
in, you know?” Harry explained with a grin.

The Headmaster raised an eyebrow. “Is there a class you should be in right now, dear boy?” Snape
had a smug smile on his face as he nodded approvingly at Dumbledore's words.

Harry had to bite his lip to keep the smile from his face, and once again, crossed his fingers
behind his back for luck. “Professor McGonagall kicked me out of class.”

If the news surprised Dumbledore, he didn't show it. Instead, the man heaved a sigh, “And
why this time, Mr. Potter? Or do I want to know?” He asked slowly.

“Not taking my N.E.W.T.S. seriously enough. Or maybe it was because I suggested she wanted all
of my attention for herself because she's in love with me…” Harry feigned a look of torn
confusion before shrugging and giving up. “You never know with her, professor.”

Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled in amusement. “And you will be waking up early Saturday
morning…”

“Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in her office.” Harry finished.

“Well then please, do not let me stop you: go out to the grounds and see what you see, take it
all in.” Dumbledore bowed and gestured for Harry to continue on his way. Snape looked perhaps even
more murderous than the Transfiguration professor had this morning.

Harry nodded and bade them both *adieu* before briskly walking away. He got three steps
before he heard his name called behind him.

“Oh, and Mr. Potter,” Dumbledore spoke softly, his eyes holding Harry's gaze long enough for
Harry to start feeling guilty, “You *are* taking your N.E.W.T.S. seriously, right?”

“Of course, professor.” Harry replied politely, still feeling guilty. The Headmaster bowed his
head once more and turned back towards the gargoyle that stood guard at the entrance to his office.
Snape shot Harry one last look of loathing , then followed.

Harry continued outside at a jog this time and once he got out into the open air, all of his
guilt dispersed. He took in a deep breath then jumped down the steps three at a time and took off
at a full sprint towards the lake.

He spent the next hour re-exploring the grounds. Hagrid had a class so he steered clear from his
hut. Harry walked around the Quidditch Pitch and into the locker rooms. He jogged around the lake
and took a brisk stroll in the courtyard. Harry touched the edge of the Forbidden Forest, but knew
he didn't have time to go in. He ran down the steps that led to the crystal boathouse. He
untied a boat and hopped in before going out on the lake. The air was warm but the water was still
cold, and Harry suddenly wished he had his robes. He shrugged it off and instead, pulled sleeves up
and laid down in the boat with his arms behind his head. He felt a sudden jolt then the boat began
to sway in a large circle, and Harry knew the giant squid must be guiding him with one of its
enormous tentacles.

Harry's dream was odd. He felt taxed, yet stronger than he had been in years. He felt like
he was part of something weak, but he could rectify that. This strange…encasement…would grow
accustomed to his invasion. First, however, he had to do some adjusting himself. It was an awkward
feeling—like not riding a bike for twenty years: the knowledge was still there, your body
automatically took control over because it knew what to do, and yet, it was still…discomfited. The
fit was not ideal, but it would work for now.

He tried to flex, and was rewarded with a slightly delayed reaction. A cold laugh resounded
somewhere in the back of his mind, and was met with a faint, apprehensive chuckle. The boy was
fading. His covert trips back and forth were taking a toll on him, no doubt. His body was not
getting the much needed rest between these exhaustive efforts. However, this body was his ship, and
was needed to get him where he needed to be to set the plan in motion. It would be a long journey
in this condition, and he needed to make sure his *ship* would…sustain. He paced in front of a
dirty, broken mirror and admired his reflection in the dim light. He couldn't quite make out
his features in the darkness but he took in his pale skin and dark hair, and most prominent, his
glowing bright crimson eyes…

*SPLASH!*

Harry's world was suddenly upside down. Surrounded by water, he didn't know which way
was up. Jolted awake by the sudden invasion of cold water, Harry kicked his feet and propelled
himself towards the light, as someone long encircled his waist and aided him in his accent—a
tentacle from the giant squid.

Harry's face broke the surface of the water and he drew in a deep breath. Looking around at
his boat, he saw that it had capsized some thirty feet away.

Then he heard the laughing. Standing ashore on the dock stood his three favorite Gryffindors,
though by the looks on their faces, they were about to become his least favorite. Shaking his head,
Harry swam over to the dock. “That was a little unnecessary.” He said shortly, eyeing Draco. The
blonde shook his head and he and Ron both pointed to the girl between them.

Hermione smiled. “Yes well, your little performance in Transfiguration wasn't exactly
necessary either, now was it?” Despite her smile, Harry could see the danger he was treading in her
eyes.

He shrugged. “Just having a bit of fun.”

Hermione turned her wand on him and Harry felt heat start to dry his clothes. Within seconds,
his clothes were nice and toasty. Finally, Hermione replied, “Yes, well, *I'm just having a
bit of fun too then*.” She smirked then turned towards the castle, the three boys a step behind
her.

Ron was chuckling beside him, “That was brilliant. We got a little worried when we couldn't
find you but then we saw a lone boat out randomly on the lake and knew it was probably you. Then
Hermione had the wicked idea to capsize you and all…Not going to lie, Draco and I were so proud.”
He laughed.

Harry nodded. “Yes, very brilliant.” Then a smile finally found its way onto his face. He had to
admit, it was pretty funny. He suddenly lunged forward and wrapped his arms around his girlfriend
from behind and planted a wet, sloppy kiss on her cheek. “I”ve got to say, I'm impressed that
little Miss No-Nonsense had it in her—capsizing my boat and trying to feed me to the giant
squid!”

“Oh honestly, you act like I never break any rules!” Hermione griped, wiping off the remains of
Harry's kiss from her cheek.

In perfect unison, the three boys chorused, “You *don't*!”

Hermione rolled her eyes in response and continued up to the castle. “What were you doing
anyway?”

As they all fell into step together and Harry took Hermione's hand in his own, he shrugged
again. “I dunno. I had a bit of a panic attack earlier when I realized just how much I was going to
miss this place. So I've been out here exploring a bit for old time's sake and fancied a
nap.”

Draco nodded, “Well I hope you enjoyed it because I don't think McGonagall is too happy with
you.”

Harry laughed and thought mentally that he had enjoyed himself. The weather was nice, the
grounds were quiet, and the lake placid…Harry's thoughts slowly went back to his weird dream.
He had felt odd to say the least. The memory was already growing distant. He was pacing somewhere,
it was too dark to make out many details but the house had been old and dusty. He couldn't
remember his thoughts exactly, but he could remember the feelings almost too well: he felt
malicious and uncomfortable in his body. Then of course there were his eyes. No, he couldn't
forget his blazing crimson eyes.

“Mate, you okay?” Ron's voice seemed far away, but it was enough to cause Harry to snap back
to reality. He looked up at his taller friend, his blue eyes slightly concerned. He realized all
three of them had stopped around him. Harry blinked a few times before nodding slowly.

“What's with you?” Draco's voice asked as he brought his hand up to Harry's
forehead. “You feel sort of cold and clammy. Are you sick?”

His hand was replaced immediately by Hermione's as concern was etched in her deep brown
eyes. “You do. I'm taking you to the Infirmary. I'm sorry! What was I thinking—it's was
much too cold for me to chuck you in the lake.” She concluded frantically.

Harry shook his head. “No, I'm fine. I just need some food. Let's go to lunch.”

Hermione's eyes narrowed, but she didn't object. Instead, she grabbed his hand and towed
him to the Great Hall.

Ron and Draco's concern had vanished as quickly as it had come. Hermione, however, kept
shooting him furtive glances and watched him as he ate. Harry didn't feel all that hungry, but
still he made a show of stuffing himself until he was rewarded with a satisfied nod from Hermione
when she asked how he was feeling. Then he excused himself to the loo and promptly got sick.

It took him all afternoon to shake the disturbing feeling he had. He didn't know where it
had come from, but for some reason he kept looking over his shoulder and every time he saw a
mirror, he would inconspicuously check his reflection—or more accurately, his eyes.

It wasn't until later on that night, when the four of them were doing their homework and
Hermione caught him watching her in the firelight that Harry's troubled feelings seemed to ebb
away as he watched her cheeks flush.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

*Well, it's ok. It's so nice
It's just another day in paradise
Well, there's no place that
I'd rather be
Well, it's two hearts
And one dream
I wouldn't trade it for anything
And I ask the lord every night
For just another day in paradise*

*“Just Another Day In Paradise” PHIL VASSAR*

**Please review!**
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31. Out Of Control, Losing My Soul
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**Hey everyone! I THINK the next chapter will be the last one of this part of the trilogy, not
entirely sure if I'm going to be able to come to a wrap up place in that one or not, so I guess
we'll just have to see. Anyway, so here's the next chapter, I hope you guys like it. Mostly
from Harry's POV. I can't remember if I replied to reviews from last chapter or not, but if
I haven't, I will try to get to that tonight. Gotta go to work now! Well, enjoy and
review!!!!!!!**

**Chapter Thirty: Out Of Control, Losing My Soul**

*I wanna run through the halls of my high school
I wanna scream at the
Top of my lungs
I just found out there's no such thing as the real world
Just a lie you've got to rise above

So the good boys and girls take the so called right track
Faded white hats
Grabbing credits
Maybe transfers
They read all the books but they can't find the answers
And all of our parents
They're getting older
I wonder if they've wished for anything better
While in their memories
Tiny tragedies*

*“No Such Thing” JOHN MAYER*


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Harry whistled to himself as he cheerfully made his way to the Transfiguration classroom despite
the ungodly hour, hot scones in hand fresh from the Kitchens. Once he reached his destination, he
knocked swiftly on the door, which opened immediately. Professor McGonagall was sitting behind her
desk, a chair pulled up directly in front of it. Harry sat down in the chair and offered the older
lady a scone. “Breakfast, professor.” He greeted, taking a bite of his own scone and nodding his
head approvingly.

“Thank you, Mr. Potter.” She replied, moving the untouched scone to the side.

“So what will it be this morning, professor? Lines? Tedious work? Are you going to make me
recopy the entire Hogwarts handbook again?” Harry asked impishly. “That was about as far from nice
as you can get, I think. My hand cramped for a w—”

“Silence, Potter.” Professor McGonagall spoke, pinching the bridge of her nose as she cut him
off.

Harry immediately fell quiet as he detected obvious annoyance in her voice.

“Potter, do you really think you can joke your way through life? Do you take *nothing*
seriously?” She asked shrilly.

Harry was taken aback. “Er…no and no…I think?” He asked meekly.

She raised an eyebrow.

He hastily added, “I mean no to the first, and no I…I mean I do take things seriously.” Harry
clarified.

“What are your plans after graduation?”She asked suddenly, changing tactics.

Harry felt slightly wrong-footed. He couldn't answer this in the middle of the day, let
alone so early in the morning. “Professor, I…er…I'm not entirely sure yet.” He answered
unenthusiastically. Couldn't she just give him his lines and be done with it?

“Firstly, I am not even going to go into the fact that N.E.W.T.S. are just a week away, Potter,
a *week*! But we aren't here to talk about that. No. There are programs one must move on
to after Hogwarts to train you in your future career. Applications should be sent to the directors
of these programs at the beginning of your Seventh Year. By the middle of the year, the interview
slots are overbooked in most cases, especially because it is not just Hogwarts students that apply.
They cannot take everyone at one time, there are waiting lists. You already know all this—yet you
haven't sent out *one* application.

“Fortunately, there are special…circumstances…where strings can be pulled, afternoon teas can
turn into interviews with enough recommendation and if the directors are feeling generous. In
saying all this…” She trailed off and reached over and pulled out her drawer, then summoned a file
with her wand. Harry saw his name written at the top, and couldn't help but notice how thick
the file was. She opened it and Harry saw a picture of himself smiling up at her.

“What's that?” Harry asked bluntly.

“Your record of your last seven years here at Hogwarts—we keep a file on every student we have.
It has your accomplishments, your marks, activities, duties, documentation of all important
audiences held with professors, any serious injuries sustained while at Hogwarts and so on…as well
as all reprimands given.” She finished slowly, looking up at Harry over the tops of her square
spectacles.


Harry didn't need to ask which one of those made his file so thick.

She began to leaf through the file, and words such as “delinquent,” “detention,” and
“misbehavior” seemed to jump f the pages at him over the desk.

“You're an interesting case. Most files are average—average marks, average accomplishments,
and minimal misconducts. They make sense. Yours, however…your entire file, Potter, is a
contradiction. The paradoxical oxymoron that is your file is…is…*encouragingly depressing*!”
Her shrill voice made another appearance. Looking slightly flustered, the Transfiguration professor
pressed on, flipping quickly through the pages, “You have top marks in all you classes. You have
been a positive member of the House Quidditch team since your First Year. You've been named
Quidditch captain. Prefect. Head Boy. Been awarded a medal for magical merit. Taken advanced
classes. O.W.L.S. in all your classes—”

“Not true, professor. I believe I got a T in Divination.” Harry cut in, his face serious.

Without missing a beat, Professor McGonagall continued, “Well, in all of your *important*
classes, that is.”

Harry couldn't stifle his laugh. It wasn't exactly a secret that the Transfiguration
professor found Divination to be complete rubbish.

“My point , Potter, is that you have excelled impressively in your overall academic career. No
doubt the reason being your mother's insistence. I know she would never settle for you to do to
anything but your best. However…as is Newton's Law…to every action there is an equal and
opposite reaction. More detentions that I can count. You've been forced to copy the Hogwarts
handbook three times in the course of your time here. Countless pranks and dungbombs and too much
cheek in the classroom. You have been nothing short of a nuisance, Potter. An irritant. A pest! You
have vexed me since day one! You are the proverbial jumbo shrimp! Explain yourself!” The older
lady's words flew from her mouth with great speed to the extent where she was almost tripping
over the words as if she couldn't get them out fast enough.

Harry didn't know what to say, or how to meet his professor's slightly bugged-eyed
expression. “Er…I don't know how to respond, professor. I've never been called…well, any
sort of crustacean before, to be honest, jumbo or otherwise.” He replied innocently.

Harry was met with phantom steam coming from her ears, and not-so-phantom spittle flying from
her lips. “There you go again, Potter! *More* cheek! I'm referring to this contradiction
of a file you have. Why, why, *why* must you always test me?” She asked earnestly, tossing the
file unceremoniously on her desk.

Harry suddenly felt guilty, “I'm sorry, professor. I…I don't know why I do it, honest.
Sometimes it just slips out…” Harry admitted, not meeting her eyes.

The older woman let out a semi-defeated sigh. “You are extraordinarily like your father in that
manner—which is no compliment!” She added to Harry's slight smile. “It isn't exactly the
worst thing in the world, however, either. Your father was also quite charming—another trait
you've taken on. But I'm not letting you use your father as a scapegoat.” She warned him.
“Now, I'll ask you again: what are your plans after graduation?”

Harry hasn't had an epiphany in the last few minutes, so he answer remained the same,
“Honestly, professor, I don't know.”

“Surely you've had a few ideas. You haven't narrowed your course list. Your options are
above and beyond. Perhaps if you had been more impressive with Divination, you would already know
your future.” She remarked with a smirk…or a smirk for her, anyhow.

Harry laughed at his professor's joke—especially as they were few and far between. “Good
point, professor.” She continued to look at him expectantly, and Harry realized she was waiting for
an answer. “Um…I dunno, professor. I-I guess…I mean, I've thought about seeing how far I can go
with Quidditch; my dad keeps bringing that up and has me meet scouts from different teams. Or maybe
following in my mother's footsteps…she'd love to have her son, the Healer. Maybe the Weird
Sisters need a brother...I don't think Ron and Draco really want to take the band anywhere.”
Harry chuckled quietly at the thought of being the only male in the famous all-female band.

Professor McGonagall nodded. “So you have thought about this…or listened to other people
thinking about this, at least.”

Harry shrugged. “I guess.”

“So I've heard what everyone else wants you to be…what do *you* want to be?” She asked,
her voice taking on a softer tone.

Harry didn't have a response. It was true that pursuing these careers would please other
people…but would they really bring pleasure to *him*?

“Just as I thought. Now this brings us to the topic of your detention. We are going to go to the
Library. You are going to compound a list of ten occupations you are interested in. Then I want you
to narrow that list down to five that we will discuss. You will then pick three and research the
requirements needed to begin the programs for those occupations. Finally, you will be sending your
letters of recommendation to the directors of those three programs, begging for an interview.” His
professor explained smugly.

“I've got letters of recommendation?” Harry asked, surprised. “Are those in my file
too?”

“Not yet. You will go around to each professor whose lessons are a requirement in the field you
are interested in, discuss with them the career option you are looking at, and ask for a letter of
recommendation to owl to each director of the programs you need to get accepted into. They are to
be on my desk by Friday.” Professor McGonagall said matter-of-factly.

Harry grimaced. “Can't you just hang me upside down by my toes and let Filch beat me with
chains?”

“Potter, you have worked very hard these last seven years. Your mother has pushed you to do your
best. I have pushed you to do your best. Don't you see the waste in throwing it all away just
because you have procrastinated in making these decisions? Pardon my language, but a `*kick in
the arse'* can only go so far.” She asked, her mouth forming a thin line.

Choosing his words carefully, Harry countered her with a question of his own, “What I don't
understand, professor, while appreciating the `*kick in the*
*ar**s**e'—*which I just want to point out that while you are already my
favorite professor, that got you like a billion professor points with me*—*anyway, this kick
in the arse you are giving me…I know I'm not the only one here that hasn't made plans after
graduation. Why are you making a big deal with me? I'm not trying to be cheeky, I'm
genuinely curious.” Harry explained.

The thin line curved ever so slightly into a smile. “Like I said, you are an even better charmer
than your father. Over the last seven years, you have become a…favorite pupil of mine.” She
admitted slowly.

Harry's eyebrows shot up. “If I remember right, you never showed favoritism, professor. It
is unethical.”

“Which is why you will never hear me say that again, Potter.” She replied smoothly.

“I've got it on record that now only did you swear, but you're showing favoritism. I
think I've got blackmail for life, professor.”

She shot him a look as if daring him to even think about it.

“What are you going to do with me, your favorite proverbial jumbo shrimp?” Harry asked,
grinning.

With a sly smile of her own, she replied, “Hours of research ahead of you in the Library seems
like a good place to start.”

With the smile effectively gone from his face, Harry nodded in defeat as he got up from his
chair and his professor stood as well before she picked up a bag that Harry knew contained her
needlework. “Professor…?” He asked slowly, “Are…are you going to eat that scone?” He looked at it
longingly with a hopeful smile.

“Yes.” She replied as she picked up the breakfast item and took a satisfying bite, much to
Harry's disappointment. It was still a long while before lunch. If he had known this was going
to last so long, he would have gotten a few more scones!

“If I carry your bag, can I at least get a sniff?” He called from behind her as they made their
way down the corridor.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

*"Welcome to the real world", she said to me
Condescendingly
Take a seat
Take your life
Plot it out in black and white
Well I never lived the dreams of the prom kings
And the drama queens
I'd like to think the best of me
Is still hiding
Up my sleeve

They love to tell you
Stay inside the lines
But something's better
On the other side*

*“No Such Thing” JOHN MAYER*


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

There was no worse hell than this, Harry decided. His Head of House had finally found the
perfect punishment. Mindless hours of pouring over books, weighing the pros and cons of each
occupation he was interested in…this was the sort of work that caused a headache.

Then of course, she had taken him on a guilt trip to ensure that he wouldn't take any
shortcuts. She reminded me of how *hard* he had worked. How much his *mother* had nagged
him about his schoolwork and his future? He didn't want to disappoint his *parents*—he was
their *only child*. How if he didn't take this seriously, he was wasting *his* time,
*her* time, the *professors* *he* *had* *to* *get* *letters*
*of* *recommendation* *from* time, and finally, the *directors**'* he
would be applying to time—and if he did this, after *she* put *her* neck out there for
*him*, it would make her *look* *bad if he didn't take this seriously*.

No shortcuts. No more procrastinating. It was time to make a decision.

The hard part was, there were too many choices. Did he want to be a wandmaker's assistant?
Not likely. A magizoologist? He hadn't taken Care of Magical Creatures these last two years, so
he doubted he even had enough desire for the field. He knew Ron's brother Charlie was a
dragonologist, but Harry didn't want something breathing fire that close to his…well, his
*anything*. Joining the Magical Law Enforcement Squad didn't sound too bad. Harry added
that to his already poor list:

Healer

Quidditch Player

Curse-Breaker

Unspeakable

Magical Law Enforcement Squad

Harry considered his father's career in the Department of International Magical Cooperation.
Was that something he was interested in? He thought about the time when Percy Weasley went on and
on about a report on regulating cauldron thickness amongst the body of international standard
trading. That didn't interest him even the slightest.

Harry grabbed another book and flipped through it mindlessly, looking for anything that would
spark his interest. He wanted to do something he would enjoy doing. Maybe something to help people.
Harry tossed the book aside and picked up a second book. Looking up, he wasn't surprised to see
Hermione over at her usual table with Veronica and Dennis, her two favorite First Years. She was
helping them with exams, no doubt. Harry smiled and looked back down at his list, considering, as
the view had given him another idea.

Sirius had fun with his job. And helped shape each new generation of Hogwarts students. With a
shrug, Harry added `Professor' to the list.

Harry leafed through another book about Magical Law Enforcement and all the divisions of it.
There was the Wizengambot. There were those specializing in dealing with the misuse of Muggle
artifacts like Ron's dad. The Aurors who were the elite team that went after the bad guys.
Those that dealt with the improper use of magic like underage Wizards and those that were in danger
of exposing the secret of the Wizarding World. Which one suited him? Muggle artifacts didn't
interest him as he already knew all about them because of his mother and her determination to bring
him up in both a Muggle and Wizard lifestyle, and he didn't want to play jury. An Auror…that
was where all the action was. Harry read the description and felt a chill run down his spine. If
all this Voldemort nonsense was in fact true and the prophecy was really going to come to
fruitarian eventually…wouldn't this be good training? He had always loved Defense Against the
Dark Arts.

Harry added it to the list, and just to have another item, he added the even more specialized
and elite Hit Wizard.

So he now had seven possible professions. And he had already spent almost two hours just on
that. With a sigh, he scrawled down a few more bogus occupations that he knew he was just going to
cross off his list. After all, he had found a few that really did interest him, so he was
*really* cheating, only technically. Once he had his list of ten, he narrowed it down to his
six. He needed to mark off one more to show his Head of House:

**Healer**

**Quidditch Player**

**Curse-Breaker**

**Unspeakable**

**Department of Magical Law Enforcement Squad**

**Professor**

**Auror**

**Hit Wizard**

**Obliviator**

**Knight Bus Conductor**

The tip of Harry's pen hovered over the remaining options. He hadn't expected it to be
this difficult to narrow it down now that he had a few ideas in mind. Finally, he scratched off one
more then made his way over to his professor.

“Healer, Quidditch Player, Professor, Auror, and Hit Wizard.” She read off, looking at his
ideas.

Harry nodded.

She raised an eyebrow. “A professor? For what subject?”

“Defense Against the Dark Arts.” Harry answered automatically without thinking.

She nodded. “An Auror and Hit Wizard?”

“They seem like logical choices. I want to help people, protect them. I realized the training is
very rigorous but…they only take the best right? And then the best of the best? With that much
responsibility…it only seems logical for it to be difficult.” Harry replied with a shrug.

She nodded. “I see you are sticking with Healer and Quidditch player.” She pointed out.

“Being a Healer would mean helping people. And Quidditch is a passion of mine.” Harry defended
the dreams his parents had for him.

“Can you narrow it down, or should we talk further?” Professor McGonagall asked, handing him
back his list.

As Harry looked at the list, the obvious choices glared up at him. He knew it was going to upset
his father, but he wanted to keep Quidditch a passion, not an obligation. And as far as a Hit
Wizard was concerned…he would have to learn to crawl before he could walk. Harry put a strike
through two more options.

His professor nodded approvingly. “Now I want a full description and requirements for the
careers of a Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, an Auror, and a Healer.” She dismissed
him.

Harry decided making a chart would be the most efficient way to present his findings and made
quick work of it because he had already read most of the material on the professions that was
required. In under an hour, he had his chart filled out and ready for inspection.


**AUROR****—**




**DESCRIPTION**







***Department of Magical Law Enforcement *Investigate/apprehend criminals**


*******Specialized** **Hit Wizard**






**EDUCATION REQUIREMENTS**




**N.E.W.T.S. in Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, Defense Against the Dark
Arts**









**PROGGRAMS/TRAINING**




***Auror Training Camp**


**Aptitude and Character tests**


***Physical and Mental wellness tests**


***Tests in Potion Making, Defense, Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, Stealth**




**LETTERS OF RE****CO****M****MENDATION**




***Prof. McGonagall**


***Prof. Black**


***Prof. Sprout**


**Prof. Flitwick**


***Prof. Snape**






**HEALER****—**




**DESCRIPTION**




**tend to the sick and injured-**


**St. Mungo's**


***Quidditch**


***Hogwarts**


***Spells, Potions, herbs**




**EDUCATION REQUIREMENTS**




***E in Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, Defense Against the Dark Arts on
N.E.W.T.S.**









**PROGRAMS/TRAINING**




***Beginner Healer Training**


***Intermediate Healer Training**


***Advanced Healer Training**


***Healer Trainee**









**LETTERS OF RE****COM****M****ENDATION**




***Prof. McGonagall**


***Prof. Black**


***Prof. Sprout**


***Prof. Flitwick**


***Mad. Pomfrey**


***Prof. Snape**






**PROFESSOR****—**




**DESCRIPTION**




***Teach jumbo shrimps magic tricks—haha kidding**


***Educate future generations on Defense Against the Dark Arts, integrity, life, their future
goals and generally shaping adolescent wizards/witches**




**EDUCATION REQUIREMENTS**




***None necessary**


***Preferred E in Defense Against Dark Arts in O.W.L.S. and N.E.W.T.S.**




**PROGRAMS/TRAINING**




***None necessary**


***Preferred 1-2 years training under current Professor or Defense Against the Dark Arts
related work**




**LETTERS** **OF REC****O****M****MENDATION**




***Prof. Black**


***Head. Dumbledore**







“This is exactly right.” Professor McGonagall said approvingly, looking over Harry's chart. She
chastised him only slightly for his magic tricks comment. Recommendation

“So now what?” Harry asked, already dreading the next part of the assignment.

“Like we discussed, you will take this chart to each of these professor, explain your career
goals and why their particular field of expertise is needed, and ask if they will write you a
letter of recommendation to send to the directors. You will schedule a meeting with the Headmaster
to discuss your aspirations to become a professor, as well as go over the duties and such with
Professor Black.” She explained, cleaning up her needlework. “You have until seven on Friday to
have gathered them all.”

“What if they won't give me a letter?” Harry asked, one particular professor in mind.

“Then we well be back here again next Saturday, and start the entire process over again until
you find three programs that you can be recommended for. Any questions?” She asked sternly.

Harry shook his head, and before she could find anything else to tell him, he bade her a quick
good-bye and rushed from the Library.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-


“You have got to be kidding me, mate! She made you do all that, and you've got to beg that
slimy git for a favor?!” Ron asked, disgusted.

Harry nodded in agreement as he chewed his food. “I know. He's never going to help me. I
could be a better Potioneer than him, and he still wouldn't give me a recommendation to scrape
gum from under the seats on the Knight Bus!” Harry complained.

“Well I think it's a great idea! Professor McGonagall's punishment was brilliant, and
completely helpful at the same time!” Hermione put in, defending the Transfiguration
professor's methods.

Draco laughed. “Yeah, she's brilliant all right—I think she found the cure for misbehavior.
If she put all the miscreants through that torture, no one would step out of line!”

Hermione disagreed. “I'd hardly call that torture. It shows that *someone* cares about
what your plans are!”

The three boys shrugged unanimously and continued to eat their lunch.

00000000

By Tuesday, Harry had his recommendation letters from Professors McGonagall, Flitwick and
Sprout, as well as Madam Pomfrey. He had set up a brief meeting with the Headmaster and discussed
his possible future employment at Hogwarts. The Headmaster had told him that after some field
experience, he would be happy to interview Harry as a potential professor for his school once the
position opened up. Harry assured him he was in no hurry to return to Hogwarts as a professor, and
he appreciated the Headmaster's advice in the matter.

After classes that Tuesday afternoon, Harry went back to Sirius's classroom and pulled up a
chair in front of his godfather's desk.

“Minerva's assignment?” Sirius asked with a bark of laughter.

Harry nodded. “Do I really have to give the whole speech, or will you just give me my letters of
recommendation and be done with it?” Harry asked, assuming the latter.

Sirius shook his head. “Oh no. I was given strict orders from Minerva that I was to be very
professional about this. No jokes. No laughing. I don't even think I'm allowed to breathe
loud.” He made a mock suffocating face.

Harry groaned. “I was afraid of that. Well okay…er…I want to be an Auror or Defense Against the
Dark Arts professor. Or a Healer. Recommend me?” Harry asked with a winning smile.

Sirius laughed. “Nope. Not convinced. Let's start with one at a time, shall we? A Healer,
huh? Now where did you get that idea?” He asked with fake astonishment.

Harry shrugged. “Mum helps people, and she's happy. I know it would make me happy to be able
to help people. And I know I could do it. It is a difficult job that a lot of people won't
undertake because of how hard it is, but if I know I'm one of those that could handle it…why
wouldn't I try, you know?”

“Plus you would be making bank.” Sirius pointed out, crossing his arms across his chest.

Harry laughed. “Yeah, and that.”

“Okay, and how does Defense Against the Dark Arts play a role in becoming a Healer?” Sirius
asked, pulling out a roll of parchment. “Minerva gave me questions to ask—I don't think she
trusts me!” His godfather complained.

Harry saw that he wasn't going to get out of this the easy way, and so he went into all the
different aspects of Sirius's class with each of his career choices, pulling out his chart to
show his godfather.

After half an hour of briefly discussing each aspect of the programs, Sirius pulled out a three
scrolls of parchment and handed them his godson. “This should be sufficient for your
recommendation.” He concluded with wink.

Harry stowed the scrolls in his bag.

“You picked three good careers.” Sirius noted. “What took you so long?” He inquired
thoughtfully.

Harry shrugged. “I dunno. I guess...I felt…or still feel I guess…that this is all just happening
too fast. I don't feel mature enough to make these decisions, or ready…or anything really. But
if I had to choose right now, these are my choices.”

“I know what you mean. I've always said they push these things on students too early. Young
witches and wizards get sucked into this program or that one and before they know it…they have
money and months or sometimes years invested into careers they don't even want. Everyone
pressured them to pick a future, and they missed out on just being free for a little while. It
works for some, but not everyone.” Sirius told him, shaking his head. “So what are Hermione's
plans?”

Harry shrugged. “She doesn't know. She never really thought she'd actually have a future
in the Wizarding World, but here she is. She talked about going back to her Muggle school and
finishing her last year, spending some time with her parents. Maybe go to university. Maybe find a
program in the Wizarding World. She doesn't know and for once…she is okay with that, you know?
I'm jealous because that's where I want to be.” Harry confided, feeling slightly ashamed.
Sirius speech spoke volumes to him because he knew he might be one of those that is simply picking
a future because he's forced to.

Sirius seemed surprised. “I figured she would have had her future mapped out by now.” He
chuckled.

Harry smiled. “I know right? She's scared, but…like I said, she's okay with it. And I
was too. But now…” Harry ran a hand through his already untidy hair.

Sirius nodded. “McGonagall put the fear of Merlin in you, I'm sure. Yes, I can see how
tempting it must be to for you to just take the year off and follow her around—exactly like your
father! He applied for the medical programs Lily did—didn't get in of course. But he tried!”
Sirius laughed at the memory. “Your father was—still is—a fool for that woman. He'd follow her
to the end of the Earth.” Obvious emotion laced his words as he spoke fondly of two of his best
friends.

Harry grinned. “I can only imagine the faces of…well, everyone really if I went to Muggle school
in the fall. Took a year off.” Harry spoke the words as a joke, but even as he said them, he knew
that was exactly what he wanted to do. Already swimming in his head were images of he and Hermione
going to public school together, him playing on the rugby team while Hermione excelled in some
gifted program. Parties, dances, bonfires…it was all so alluring. He would make it great for
Hermione. It would be a whole new experience for her, he knew. His days of being bullied were long
gone, and hers would be too. He would make sure of that.

Sirius's words brought him back to the present. “That would be a major setback in your plan,
Harry. These programs don't sit around and wait for you to be ready.” He laughed, but almost as
if he could see the wheels turning in Harry's head, a warning laced his words.

Harry's face fell slightly because he knew Sirius was right.

“But with that being said…I don't want you to go into anything just because you are being
pushed in that direction. Do what's right for *you*—everything else will fall into place.”
Sirius advised, eyebrows raised.

000000000000

Harry dropped into the seat next to Hermione in the Common Room after planting a very sloppy
kiss on her cheek. “Hellllooooo, Beautiful.” He greeted with a grin.

Hermione laughed and wiped the kiss from her cheek. “Hello, Mr. Potter. I take it you had a nice
chat with your godfather?” She asked, noting his mood.

“Yep. And I've got it all figured out. A plan for both of us.” His eyes gleamed with
excitement.

A surprised look crossed her features. “Well let's hear it then. What are we planning?”
Hermione took the bait, closing her book but not before marking her page.

Harry scooted his chair closer so he was inches from her and took her hands in his. “You
don't have plans after school. I don't have plans. You said something about going back to
your Muggle school, right?” Harry asked slowly.

Hermione laughed. “Yes, I suppose I mentioned it once. Why? What's this about, Harry?”

“We go back *together*.” Harry said triumphantly. “Think about it—a second chance at a last
year of school. We're together now. There isn't any rivalry business. Wouldn't it be
brilliant!? I could play rugby and take you out on regular dates and we can just be like a couple
of normal Muggles!”

Hermione's eyes were wide with shock. “Harry…that is an absolute *horrible* idea!
Please tell me you are *joking*.” She replied bluntly. “What are you trying to pull, exactly?”
She inquired, concerned.

Harry was taken aback by her negative reaction. “What? I thought that's what you wanted? I
want us to be together. I don't want to start some program that I might end up hating while you
go living without me or doing whatever you are going to be doing.” Harry stated, his temper
starting to simmer. “Do you want us to be apart?”

Hermione grabbed Harry's hand and led him upstairs to his empty dormitory. Once the door was
closed, she turned to face him. Her voice was soft, “Harry, what is this really about? Since when
did you want to be a Muggle and go to back to school?”

Harry's stubbornness took over. “I just thought it would be a nice idea, is all. Hell,
we're only seventeen. Well, you're eighteen and I'll be eighteen soon but it's
whatever. Why do we have to pick what we want to be right now anyway? If you don't want to go
back to school then…I dunno, let's travel Europe or something.”

Hermione's expression turned sympathetic. “Harry, I'm not going back to my Muggle
school. I'm going to be nineteen in September. It's time to grow up and start figuring life
out. That goes for you too. I know what you are trying to do. School is a safe zone for you—”

Harry cut her off. “Don't even try pulling that, Hermione. I don't need to hide behind a
school.” Harry insisted. “I'm sorry for not wanting to part ways right out of school.” Harry
apologized sarcastically.

Hermione's gentle demeanor shifted. “Are you suggesting that I don't care, Potter?” She
asked angrily. “I don't know what you've got in your head, but you are talking mad. Do you
even hear yourself?” She half-shouted, her hands flying to her hips.

Harry's temper was getting the better of him, but he tried to calm down. “I don't see
you having plans. Why can't I take a year off too?” He shot back at her.

Hermione threw her hands up in the air. “Merlin, Harry, what is *wrong* with you? I'm
not your boss. I never said you couldn't take a year off. I'm simply saying that it is a
*stupid* decision. Look at what everyone has done for you. Don't you understand how
incredibly lucky you are? So many people are standing behind you! I'm *jealous*! You have
so many people pushing you to reach your full potential, and are you really going to waste their
time just because you aren't ready to grow up? Stop being a bleeding pansy and move on to the
next part of your life!” Hermione's words hung in the air as she stood almost nose to nose with
Harry.

Harry felt his anger slowly dissipate, and finally, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He knew
Hermione was right.

“It's just…I don't know if I'm making the right decision. What if I make the wrong
one and waste all this time? I feel…unprepared.” Harry admitted, dropping onto his bed.

Hermione walked over and sat beside him and turned her body so she was facing him. She took his
hand in his. “Then make the mistake. Harry, I've listened to you talk these last few days.
You're *excited* about this. Whether you want to admit it or not, you're
*excited*. And frightened. And you have no idea what to expect. I can see all this in your
eyes and body language. But that's okay. It would be abnormal *not* to feel like this. I
know exactly how you feel. When I came to Hogwarts…it was one of the biggest decisions of my life.
I left everything I ever knew behind and came here to the unknown…and Harry, despite everything
that has happened, even if this,” she gestured the space between the two of them, “Had never
happened…it would have been worth it.

“This is going to be scary and new and exciting all at the same time, but Harry, I know you
aren't going to regret it.” Hermione spoke softly, squeezing his hand. “Please believe me.
Don't try to live in the past. This chapter of your life is closing…don't be so afraid to
turn the page that you close the book.” She counseled with a small smile.

As her words sunk in, Harry sighed. “You're right. It was a stupid idea. I dunno, I guess
I'm just not ready to give all this up.” Harry looked longingly around the circular dormitory
that has been his home for the last seven years.

Hermione moved closer and leaned her head on his shoulder as her arm stretched across his chest
in a half-hug. “I know. I haven't even been here a year and I know how much I'm going to
miss this place. I can't imagine how difficult it is for everyone else.” She confessed.

Harry wrapped his arm around her and planted a kiss on her forehead. “Thank for talking some
sense into me. And I'm sorry. I guess I just don't want to think about the future too much
and miss out on what's going on right now.” He squeezed her shoulders tight against him.

Hermione smiled. “No problem. Someone has to keep you level-headed. I believe it is all part of
the girlfriend description.” She replied nonchalantly.

Harry chuckled. “Is it also in the girlfriend description to call me a `bleeding pansy'?”
Harry asked with a grin, pulling her lips up to meet his.

Hermione smirked as she pulled away. “Something like that.”

Harry pressed his lips against her more firmly to muffle her words as he wrapped his arms more
securely around her before he pulled her back towards his pillow. “I can't help but notice,” He
said between kisses, “That you've trapped me in an empty, unsupervised dormitory.”

Hermione managed to pull her lips away from his, which only encouraged Harry to move his kisses
to her jaw line then slowly down to her neck.

Hermione forgot her response and instead tangled her hands in his tousled midnight hair. She
softly sighed his name as her eyes drifted closed and unfamiliar feelings stirred somewhere in her
lower abdomen.

Wet, hot kisses slowly ran back up her neck until Harry's lips were on hers again and she
was caught in a fiery kiss. A satisfying moan escaped them both as their kiss heated up even more.
The physical attributes of their relationship were still all new, but they were quick learners and
enjoyed exploring this foreign frontier.

Hermione stretched out relaxingly under Harry's body, causing Harry to reach out and grab
the back of her upper thigh and bring her knee up to his waist. He ran his hand down the length of
her calf then back up again to the hem of her skirt, which had managed to rise several inches
higher than normal.

He rolled them so they were on their side, still locked into a kiss. His hand leisurely
continued up the curve of her hip, her side until he paused at the side of her breast. Harry's
hand—unhurried and ready to stop at any hint given by Hermione—gently moved to cup her breast in
his hand. Hermione didn't bat his hand away, so he gave this new territory an experimental
light caress. He pulled is mouth away from hers to gauge her reaction. Without removing his hand
and his eyes locked on her, he squeezed again. “Is this okay?” He whispered.


Hermione's cheek were blushing, and without saying a word, she gave a quick nod before
capturing his lips with hers again—wanting to take the attention off her. She felt slightly dirty
for liking Harry's hand fiddling around on her breast.

Happy with Hermione's reaction, Harry boldly explored her breasts over her shirt. He could
barely feel her hardened nipples through the cloth of her shirt and bra. Reluctantly, Harry moved
his hands to safer areas and slowly eased out of their kiss. He was getting way too aroused for
their activity at the moment. Hermione seemed to have similar feelings as she pulled away enough to
lay contently on his arm and snuggle into his chest.

Their eyes met, and both of their faces blushed slightly. Without saying a word, Harry pulled
her closer and they both sighed peacefully.

Harry stretched his hand a few inches and squeezed her breast lightly because…well, now he was
*allowed* to.

Hermione playfully batted hit hand away. “Stop it!” She giggled, burying her face in his chest,
causing Harry to chuckle.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

*We got the afternoon
You got this room for two
One thing I've left to do
Discover me
Discovering you

One mile to every inch of
Your skin like porcelain
One pair of candy lips and
Your bubblegum tongue

'Cause if you want love
We'll make it
Swimming a deep sea
Of blankets
Take all your big plans
And break 'em
This is bound to be a while

Your body Is a wonderland
Your body is a wonder (I'll use my hands)*

*Your body is a wonderland*

*“Your Body Is A Wonderland” JOHN MAYER*


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Harry didn't know what could possibly be worse than this. He was sure McGonagall hated him.
He waited as Snape's last class of the day filed out of the Dungeons, making the great escape
for the day—sheer relief etched on most faces. Finally, when the last of them were gone and the
heavy door slammed shut, Harry knocked.

No response.

Harry knocked again, harder. The door eased open only inches, and Harry had to turn sideways to
slide in through the opening because the door wouldn't open further despite his pushing.

“What do you want, Potter?” Snape asked from behind his desk.

“Er, I was wondering if I could talk to you about something?” Harry asked, already knowing the
answer.

“No.”

Harry sighed. “Please, sir?” He pressed. “It is an assignment for Professor McGonagall.” Harry
hastily explained.

Snape stood and headed for the door. “Then I suggest you take it up with her. I'm going to
dinner.”

Harry jogged to keep up with Snape brisk walk. “Sir, please, can I talk to you for just a few
minutes?”

“You have two minutes.” The Potions Master replied.

Harry nodded gratefully and came to a stop, only to be surprised that Snape never broke his
stride. Was this asshole for real? Biting back his anger, Harry once again jogged to catch up.
“Professor, I am pursuing a career in becoming either a Healer or-or an Auror. The problem is, I
need letters of recommendation to get into the programs, or really, to even be given an interview
to *try* to get into the programs. Potions is a big part of both career options, so I was
wondering if you could take a few minutes out and just write a letter of recommendation for me to
owl to the directors?” Even before Harry was halfway through, he knew how pointless his speech
was.

“No. Now go away, Potter.” Snape said in response in a bored tone.

“But Professor, please. I won't even get a chance if—”

Snape interrupted him with a wave of his hand. “Of course I will help you receive special
treatment because you were too lazy and arrogant to apply when you were supposed to—right after I
put on a tutu and dance like a fairy.”

His sarcasm did not go unnoticed by Harry. They had reached the Great Hall by now, and Harry
stopped at the doors as Snape continued to stride forward, his black robes billowing purposely
behind him.

Defeated, Harry stomped his way angrily to join his friends at the Gryffindor table. The
murderous look on his face told them the brief meeting had gone exactly how Harry had
envisioned.

Hermione squeezed his hand. “Maybe try again tomorrow after class?” She suggested
unhelpfully.

Ron shook his head. “It's no use. He may as well be asking Snape to hand over all of
Slytherin's House points to Gryffindor, or let Harry go away with him on holiday. It isn't
going to happen; sorry mate.” His friend gave him an apologetic grimace.

“Do you want me to try to talk to him?” Hermione offered with raised eyebrow.

“No. I don't need you to fight my battles, Hermione.” Harry snapped furiously, causing her
to shrink away from him, which made him immediately feel guilty. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't
have snapped at you. But no, I'll handle it.” He forced a reluctant grin, and she returned it
with a small one of her own.

Despite his cool exterior, Harry was still fuming. He picked moodily at his food, concentrating
all of his anger at the slimy git at the head table. Finally, he tossed his fork down and pushed
away his food. He looked up at Ron and Draco, and on a whim, asked suddenly, “How about a game of
Quidditch?” Harry knew he and Hermione had plans to study later, but right now, he needed to clear
his head before he snapped at her again.

Ron and Draco shrugged in unison and quickly finished their plates. Harry glanced over in
Hermione's direction, and found that she was gazing steadily at the food on her plate. As if
she could feel his eyes on her, she finally looked up, her face unreadable—as if he wasn't
blowing her off.

Before she could make his feel guilty, Harry got up and headed to get his Quidditch gear.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Hermione wanted to be angry, but couldn't bring herself to be. However, she did feel
something—irritation perhaps. She did not appreciate Harry blowing her off, but she would not let
him see how much it bothered her. She could study on her own just fine. She had already gone over
her notes for Charms and Transfiguration. She unceremoniously glanced around the Library and saw
Neville sitting alone at a table, an intense expression on his face as he read over his own notes.
Hermione's heart went out to him and she smiled. It took only seconds for her to gather up her
things and join Neville at his study table.

“Do you want to study together?” Hermione asked with a smile, and relief noticeably swept over
his features.

“That would be brilliant.” He replied graciously.

Hermione grinned and sat down with him. “What are you looking over now?”

“Charms.” He said, pulling a face.

Hermione plucked her own Charms notes from her book bag and started to quiz her friend in hushed
tones.

It was two subjects later, as Neville quizzed Hermione in Herbology, that Hermione saw him sweep
into the Library, his black robes billowing behind him. Professor Snape was scanning the shelves
while anger began to boil inside of Hermione. Yes, she was irritated with her boyfriend, but she
still felt bad for the way the Potions Master treated him, and how unhelpful the professor was
being.

“Hermione?!” Neville whispered urgently, trying to regain her attention.

Hermione jumped slightly. “What?” She asked, shaken from her thoughts.

“I said, `I'm venomous. I'm rare. I thrive in freezing climates. I'm found in the
secluded corners of Antarctica—my native land. What am I?'” Neville recited again.

Hermione held up a finger to signal to `hold on.' “Can you give me just a second?” She asked
before standing and marching over to the Potions Master. She knew she shouldn't interfere, but
she couldn't stop herself.

“Hello, Professor.” Hermione greeted quietly.

“Miss Granger.” Professor Snape acknowledged, not looking up from the book in his hands.

“Er, I was wondering if I could have a word?” She asked awkwardly.

“Hmm?” Still, his eyes swept over the page.

Anger fumed inside of Hermione at his demeanor. “Professor, I was wondering why you refuse to
write Harry's letter of recommendation?”

*Sna**p!*

Professor Snape's black eyes finally looked up as he snapped his book closed. “I believe
that is none of your concern.” His lip curled.

Indignant, Hermione put her hands on her hips. “Professor, I really don't think it's
fair that—”

“Silence. I am not discussing this with you.” He interrupted her before turning away.

Hermione stomped her way in front of him, causing him to stop. “If you would please just listen
for a moment—”

“Detention tonight. My office. Eight `o'clock. And ten points from Gryffindor.” Professor
Snape's voice was velvety soft, a sneer playing on his lips. “I suggest you hold your tongue
before I make it fifty.” He strode past a furious Hermione, who could barely contain herself.

Hermione stood there for a minute, taking in his words. The taste of vehemence on her tongue,
she trudged over to her table, defeated.

“What was that!?” Neville, who was terrified of the Potions Master, asked, alarm evident in his
voice.

“I have detention.” Hermione admitted, slamming her book shut. She looked at her watch. It was
7:45—which meant by the Potions Master's standards, she was already late.

Neville was about to say something, but Hermione cut him off. “Sorry. I'm already late. Um,
can you tell Harry if you see him?” Without waiting for an answer, Hermione gathered all her book
and began to sprint to the Dungeons.

She knocked on the door, still seething, but got no reply. Hermione knocked harder, then heard
footsteps in a distance. Snape made his way towards her from down the corridor.

“Late. Another five points.” He said swiftly before pressing his wand to the door and unlocking
it.

Hermione was about to retort, but held her tongue.

“To teach you a lesson in humility, you can start by scraping of the gum from under all the
tables.” He drawled, handing her a small one square inch piece of plastic with dulled edges as a
scrapper.

She took the tool wordlessly and got to work.

The word was tedious. The offending gum all but refused to be scraped from the bottoms of the
tables. Hermione yelled and screamed and cursed inside her mind at the man sitting behind his
desk.

It must have shown on her face, because Hermione felt the probes of something attacking her
mind, trying to burrow inside to see what was going on.

But the same professor had taught her too well, and Hermione was able to block the intrusion
without expending too much effort. She felt a rush of satisfaction at her accomplishment.

He continued to play with her mind, and tried to attack repeatedly, but Hermione kept her
barriers up and was able to defend her sanction. She chanced a peek through her hair so he
wouldn't see her looking, saw that his head was bent over an essay, but there was a small smirk
on his lips. His concentration was obviously elsewhere.

As Hermione scraped the last piece of gum off the final table, she got up and said nonchalantly,
“You aren't getting in.”

He looked up. “I see that.”

Her anger was still there, but it wasn't controlling her words like before. “Why are you so
interested in what is going about in my head?” She asked offhandedly.

Snape rolled his eyes, bored. “Don't flatter yourself. Just testing since our lessons have
diminished. Though I am a little curious about why you think you can talk to me that way.”

“I'm sorry.” Hermione apologized. “I was out of line, sir.” In her brooding, Hermione had
come to terms with the fact that she had been rude during their exchange earlier.

“Yes, you were. You may go now.” He dismissed her, turning his attention back to his
grading.

Remembering her thoughts, Hermione slowly approached his desk. “I am sorry for the way I said
it, but I'm not sorry for what I said. Professor, I understand *somewhat*,” she put
emphasis on that word, “Your decision to not help, but at the same time…don't you think he
deserves it? You wouldn't even listen. You don't even have to recommend him—if you could
even just state his marks for your classes. They will speak for themselves. You have this grudge
against his father…do you know what program he wants to go into?”

No response.

“He wants to be a Healer—just like his mother.” Hermione finished softly.

Still no reply.

Hermione sighed and trudged from the Dungeon before he could take away any more points.

000000

Harry was waiting in Common Room, of course.

“What happened?” He asked, though his tone hinted that he could guess.

Hermione smiled sheepishly.

Harry shook his head. “You couldn't help yourself, could you?”

Hermione blushed. “It doesn't matter. It didn't make a difference, and I lost fifteen
points from Gryffindor, got a detention, and lost hours of studying time.” Hermione sighed.

Harry pulled her into a hug. “While I hate that you went behind my back after I asked you not
to…it is kinda cute that you went and got in trouble sticking up for me. It's a bit of a turn
on that I'm dating such a badass.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Oh shut it, you!”


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Harry felt like a failure. He hated going to Professor McGonagall with the news that he did not
get all the letters of recommendation that was asked of him—especially when he felt that it
wasn't his fault.

But he had a plan. Maybe the Headmaster could write one for him for Potions. He didn't know
if that would be allowed or not, but maybe if he explained the circumstances…it was worth a shot.
Or maybe the Headmaster could make Snape write one—not likely.

“Well, Potter?” The Transfiguration professor asked as he sat down in the chair facing her.

Harry shook his head. “I'm sorry, Professor. I tried—I really did. And I got nearly all of
them.” He produced eleven scrolls of parchment. “Professor, you know Professor Snape hates me. So I
don't have the two from him. I asked, but…he said it is my fault that I waited so long and that
I don't deserve special treatment.” Harry confessed, and part of him almost agreed with the
bastard. “And…maybe he's right.” Harry admitted grudgingly.

Professor McGongall surveyed him behind her square spectacles. “Is that so?” She reached into a
drawer and pulled out two scrolls. “Severus gave me these—while they are not exactly letters of
recommendation, they are records of your marks in his class, test results and such. It should
suffice, paired with your other letters from the other professors.” She replied.

Harry was shocked. What? He had come through? “Really?!” He asked, still taken aback.

“Yes, Potter, `*really*.'” She said with a roll of her hawk eyes.

Harry made a mental note to thank Hermione. He knew she was the only reason why he got even
those. “So now what is the next step?” Harry asked, wanting to get this over with and getting to
thanking Hermione properly in all the ways he could think come up with—he felt a blush creep over
his cheeks and tried to will his thoughts elsewhere for the time being.

She pulled out two thick scrolls. “Applications for the two programs you are interested in. Get
this filled out as soon as you can, as well as writing a letter to each director yourself begging
for an interview. You will owl these out first thing—tomorrow, I'm hoping.” She said with a
beady expression, “And then, we wait.” She said with a sigh.

Harry's heart sank at the thought of writing even more tonight, especially when he had other
plans in mind. “Okay, professor. I'll have them for first thing tomorrow.” Harry grudgingly
promised.

Once he was dismissed, Harry slowly made his way down the corridor. He didn't want to fill
out stupid applications tonight or write letters or anything. He wanted to just hang out with
Hermione. Tell her how much she meant to him and how lost he would be without her. Though to be
honest, he knew she would be busy with N.E.W.T.S. prepping anyway. She had been in a nonstop frenzy
these last few weeks and really needed a break. As that thought settled into his mind, other bits
and pieces of conversation floated around his brain, slowly giving him an idea—perhaps the only
thing that would tear her away from studying.

00000000000

A quick trip to the Library and his dormitory for his Firebolt later, Harry stood in the center
of Hermione's dormitory, a table set up laden with the very books he had paged through in his
detention.

She had been trying to get to bed early this last week, getting well-rested for the upcoming
week. He knew she would be coming up here anytime. He had already told her good night and begged
off to go to sleep himself.

Sure enough, the door opened and Hermione came in. When she saw that someone was in her room,
she jumped. “Harry!” She shrieked, her hand over her heart. “You scared me half to death! What are
you doing in here?” She asked, confused.

Harry smiled and gestured to the table. “You said that I was lucky to have people push me about
my future. You said you were…ah, yes, *jealous* because of it.” Harry walked towards her and
cupped her cheek in his palm. “I just want you to know that you have people in your corner too.” He
pressed his lips to hers briefly. “So I want you to sit at that table and pick a career.” He said
sternly, pointing towards the mountain of books.

Hermione laughed. “You didn't have to do this.”

Harry shrugged. “You always say that you don't know if you have a future in the Wizarding
World. Well, you have the option to. So explore it.” He took her book bag from her and led her over
to her seat.

“And what are you going to do?” She asked quizzically with a raised eyebrow.

Harry produced his applications. “I have applications to fill out. Trust me, this is not how I
was hoping we would be spending our Friday night.” He said with a huge sigh.

Hermione giggled, “Oh yeah? And what else did you have in mind?”

Harry wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Well…maybe if we hurry, we'll still have some time
that I can show you.” He said slyly.

“You've piqued my interest, so maybe I will rush a bit.” She winked, causing Harry's
mouth to go dry and desire course through him.

“Or maybe we do this after…” He suggested, reaching for her.

Hermione laughed and danced just out of his reach. “Nope. You got me excited to do this now.
You'll just have to wait!” She exclaimed, pulling out her chair.

“Yeah, you got me excited too.” Harry grumbled under his breath before focusing on his own
applications.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

This was a covert operation. He had to be in and out. He did a mental checklist yet again, just
to make sure he did not forget anything. He involuntarily shivered at the thought of the
consequences that would surely be waiting for him if he failed.

Refocusing on the task at hand, Jonathan took a deep breath before pressing the tip of his wand
to the solid wall in front of him and muttering, “*Liquefiat*.” The hard wall shimmered in his
wand light and began to ripple before him. He stepped through easily, shivering at the cold
sensation of walking through the liquid wall.

He was on the Fourth Floor. He turned around and caught his reflection in the still-rippling
mirror he had just walked through. “*Solidatur*.” The shimmering ceased at once and the mirror
instantly harden to glass on stone once again.

The route out of Hogwarts that led into a dark, grate-sealed tunnel just outside of Hogsmeade
had come in handy these last few weeks. The rat—Wormtail—had told him of the passage. It had been
blocked, but he had been able to clear it with some effort.

With stealth and quickness, Jonathan tightened the bag slung over his shoulder and made his way
to Gryffindor Tower.

His mission was difficultly simple. It should go without any problems. He had all the tools he
needed in the bag. Still, Jonathan felt antsy. He had done some pretty rotten things in his life,
but ever since he had been brought in front of Voldemort, he had changed. The lines blurred between
his own personal boundaries and what was expected of him. He had talked the big talk, but now when
it came to putting Voldemort's commands into action…he'd be a liar if he said his stomach
didn't turn a little bit.

But that didn't matter. He'd joined up. He was in it for life, or it would *cost*
him his life. Hand-chosen—drafted—by the Dark Lord himself. There was no `no' option. So here
he was, doing the Dark Lord's bidding and trying his best not to fuck it up. Despite the
nauseating assignment, despite his squeamish doubts, he did feel a sort of adrenaline—Voldemort
would turn him into a man more than anyone else could.

Qualms or no, he had a job to do that his was on the line for. No turning back. He felt
terrified. Sick. Clammy. Under all his negative feelings, however, there was excitement. Voldemort
would be rising again very soon. Luckily for Jonathan, that meant he would have full control of his
body once again.

He trembled. Being possessed by that sort of evil was no doubt the scariest thing he had ever
experienced, and he was more than willing to do anything to make it stop. Voldemort had been in the
limbo state that he was in for so long, he had to slowly adapt to a body before getting his own.
Also, preparations were needed and it was easier for Voldemort to travel if he had a host.

While Jonathan was willing to act as that host, he did not like it. The feeling was
indescribable. With a new vigor to never having to feel like that again, the Slytherin quickened
his pace.

Entrance was granted with the password he had managed to obtain to the Gryffindor Common Room by
a vey sleepy portrait of the Fat Lady. In her sleepy state, she hadn't even bothered to her
eyes to see that she had given access to someone other than a Gryffindor.

He would go after the girl first. The girls' staircase was bewitched to turn into a stone
slide when a boy stepped on it, he knew. It was the same in his own House. But the Slytherins were
known for their cunning. Slytherin boys have visited the girls in their dorms many times. Using a
Floating Charm on himself, he rose several inches from the stone floor, dug his fingers in the
grooves in the bricked wall, and slowly ascended the staircase using the wall as a guide and
careful not to touch any part of the staircase or railing. It was a slow process, especially when
he knew she would be on the top floor alone.

However, he finally managed to get to the top. Using the mental map given to him by Wormtail, he
knew she was the last dormitory at the end of the corridor. He eased the door open and slowly crept
into the circular room.

Hermione was laying in her bed, the moonlight the only light in the room. She slept all the way
to the left on her bed, the blankets pulled off her. She wore a pair of shorts and a baggie white
t-shirt that had ridden up to reveal half of her stomach. He reached into his bag and pulled out a
bright, indigo-colored potion encased in a small round vial. He let his knees sink into the bed
beside her, stirring her slightly but not enough to wake. He pressed his finger against her bottom
lip, slowly opening her mouth. He tipped the contents of the vial into her mouth, then tossed it
back his bag. He knew he needed to wait for the potion to work—exactly two minutes, he believed—but
his greedy eyes raked over her revealed skin and he couldn't help but take a peek. His hand
gently eased her shirt further up to reveal more flesh and a white bra as his other hand fished in
his bag for the small dagger in there. He placed the tip of his blade to the inside warmth of her
arm. Before he could apply enough pressure to break the skin, a loud shout from somewhere behind
startled him and he felt a heavy weight crash into him, sending him forward. Another loud scream
met his ears.

Harry Potter was pulling him over a red and cream colored sea and onto the stone floor.
Harry's fist made contact with his stomach, effectively knocking the wind out of him for a
second time. Harry went to strike again but Jonathan intercepted the blow and wrapped his arms
around the middle of Harry's back and tried to hold him. For a split second, he caught sight of
Hermione, screaming and withering in pain while covered in blood. Her white shirt had become
drenched in red. He realized his dagger had pierced her when Harry had tackled him, shoving him
further into Hermione. However, the wound was not on her forearm. There was too much blood for
that.

Jonathan and Harry's fight raged on as Hermione's screams in the background grew
shallower before becoming silent. Both boys were bloody, and Jonathan found it difficult to grip
onto Harry's naked torso now slick with blood and sweat. He managed to knee the Gryffindor in
the gut, causing him to crumple to his hands and knees for a second—long enough for him to find the
glint of silver of his dagger and his bag before being dragged back to the ground. Harry punched
him in his nose and he heard the crunch of his own nose breaking. The pain was momentarily
blinding, but he was able to bring the dagger down and slice a long gash from Harry's shoulder
to the inside of his elbow. Blood poured from the wound. Lightening fast, he had out a fresh vial
that captured the blood spilling from the gash while Harry was coming to grips with the situation.
Harry made to stand but Jonathan was able to delay him by delivering a feeble kick to the
chest.

Out of time, ran to Hermione's still form and ripped the blood-soaked shirt from her body
and ran from the room, yelling behind him, “I'd worry less about me and more about her if I
were you!” A glance over his shoulder told him his words did exactly as their intent: Harry, now
alert and ready for round two more than he probably was himself, used all of his energy to rush to
Hermione's side instead of following him out the door and down the staircase—which turned into
a stone slide and let out a blaring, high-pitched wailing noise. He knew the sound would probably
wake up the entire Gryffindor House or most of them anyway. Before anyone could stop him, he was
out the Portrait Hole and heading for the Fourth Floor. He had to get out of here before an alarm
was raised, and not let the punishment that was sure to be waiting on him now slow him down from
reaching his destination.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

*For crying out loud I'm running from a comedown
God forbid I know I've been a letdown
Reaching for the sky while laying in a gutter
Kicking and scream**ing I am singing bloody murder* *
I'm alive when I'm vulnerable
I'm out of control, I'm losing my soul
I'm alive when I'm vulnerable
I'm out of control, I'm losing my soul

I can't be your angel when I'm living like a devil
Can't be your lover when I'm living like a rebel
Don't want your pity and I don't want your help
Don't try and save me go take care of yoursel**f**
Go take care of* *yourself**
you better take care of yourself*

*“Alive (N' Out Of Control)” PAPA ROACH*

*DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW SO I CAN COME HOME TO A NICE PILE OF THEM!!!!!!!!!*

**~Archie~**
 Document created with wvWare/wvWare version 1.2.7
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32. And So It Begins (As Everything Else Ends)
----------------------------------------------



**Hey everyone. So here it is, the LAST CHAPTER of this story. I can't believe it. I
can't believe it's taken me so damn long to write it! This is the first part in a trilogy
that I'm hoping to write—and with my new job, I should get a lot more time to write. The next
installment will be called “Calm Before The Storm.” It will be relatively short in comparison to
this—I'm guessing much shorter chapters and probably only 8-10 chapters, if that, maybe even
less. But anyway. Here it is. Not gonna lie, a little disappointed with the last chapter…6
reviews?!?! That was over thirty pages of writing! Haha but seriously…please show me some love
people so I know I'm not wasting time, writing for myself here!!! I already know how all this
ends (and it's pretty fucking awesome, not gonna lie).**

**Anyway, I want to thank the SIX people that did review the last chapter—this chapter is
dedicated you guys, the awesome: Miss Moony, Hani, RupertsGirl112289, Harmony_4ever88, Pawsrule,
& Preeves.**

**Everyone else…go back and let me know if you liked it!!!!!**

**So…enjoy!**

**CHAPTER THIRTY ONE: AND SO IT BEGINS (AS EVERYTHING ELSE ENDS)**

*I'll be your crying shoulder,
I'll be love's suicide
I'll be better when I'm older,
I'll be the greatest fan of your life.

And rain falls angry on the tin roof
As we lie awake in my bed.
You're my survival, you're my living proof.
My love is alive and not dead.
Tell me that we belong together.
Dress it up with the trappings of love.
I'll be captivated,
I'll hang from your lips,
Instead of the gallows of heartache that hang from above*

*“I'll Be” EDWIN MCCAIN*

_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+_+

Disoriented and filled with adrenaline, Harry staggered towards the blood-soaked bed.
Hermione's form—ghostly white under a sea of red—lay motionless before him. Harry dropped to
his knees and made quick work of finding the wound in the midst of all the blood—a deep stab wound
just under her rib cage. He whirled around and found his wand then brought his attention back to
Hermione. He felt as if he was moving in slow motion. Still dizzy, he tried to clear his head
enough to recite the correct incantation. With shaking hands, he brought the tip of his wand to the
bleeding wound and began to whisper relentlessly, “*Vulnera Sanentu, Vulnera Sanentur, Vulnera
Sanentur.”* Before his eyes, the bleeding stopped and the wound began to knit closed. He quickly
checked for a pulse, but felt nothing. “No, no. Come on, Hermione!” Harry whispered anxiously. He
placed his head on her chest, trying to detect a heartbeat, but still, nothing. His vision blurred
as tears crashed down on his cheeks. Working over her body, he resorted to Muggle CPR, compressions
against her chest and trying to breathe his own life into her.

Her body still lay limp like a corpse. Frantic, Harry made quick work of grabbing the corners of
the sheets of her bed, swathing her like a cocoon and took off out of the room. He ignored the
bloody slide and the screeching alarm. Most of the House had gathered around in the Common Room,
but Harry pushed his way through them and out of the Portrait Hole. Her dead weight was heavy, but
Harry felt an adrenaline like he had never felt before and was able to easily run through the
Castle, screaming for help.

Help came in the form of his least favorite professor, but Harry had never been so glad to see
him. “Potter! What is this!?” Snape demanded, before noticing Hermione limp and bloody in
Harry's arms. His demeanor changed and Harry could see what little color the Head of Slytherin
House had drain from his face. Snape rushed forward and Harry pulled the sheets back to reveal the
wound.

“Avery attacked her,” was all Harry was able to sputter as the stitch in his side made its
presence apparent. He almost buckled under her weight. Snape made to grab her body from Harry, but
Harry only pulled her closer. “She needs Madam Pomfrey.”

“Give her to me, Potter. I will take her. Get yourself cleaned up. Alert Minerva and the
Headmaster.” Snape instructed, pulling on Hermione again.

While Harry had no desire to leave Hermione's side, he knew Avery would not stay on the
grounds and his window of getting the wretched Slytherin was rapidly closing. Harry hated the man
before him, but he knew he could trust him to get Hermione the medical attention she desperately
needed. After this quick decision, Harry finally thrust her body in his professor's arms. “I
will be at the Hospital Wing in a few minutes. I think it's a stab wound from a dagger.
I've used *Vulnera Sanentur,* but so much blood has been lost and she isn't waking up.
Please,” Harry begged, his bloodshot eyes wide with fear, “Please get her taken care of.”

Snape wordlessly turned around and began to sprint towards the Infirmary. Harry had never seen
him move so fast.

“Harry!” Shouts behind him caused Harry to whirl around to see Ron and Draco rushing towards
him.

Both were wide-eyed and shocked. “What's going on? They said they saw you carrying
Hermione's bloody body from the Girls' Dormitories?!”

“*Accio* Marauder's Map.” Harry muttered before launching into a thirty second tale of
what happened. Right as he finished telling them how he handed her off to their Potion's
Master, a whizzing sound met his ears and the Marauder's Map appeared. “I solemnly swear that I
am up to no good.” Harry rushed through saying before scanning the map for Avery's dot. There
were so few dots out and about that it was easy to spot him on the Fourth Floor, in a secret
passage that Harry knew for a fact was blocked.

But there he was, unmoving, and still inside the grounds.

“I'm going after him. I need one of you to go alert McGonagall and Dumbledore. The other one
needs to go to the Infirmary and be with Hermione.” Harry commanded, folding the map up.

“No, we're going with you.” Draco said. “You're a bloody mess, Harry. We can't leave
this to chance.”

Harry shook his head. “No, someone needs to be with Hermione in case she wakes up—*when*
she wakes up.” He corrected himself.

Draco turned to look at Ron, who wore the same defiant expression as Draco. However, as
Draco's wordless question dawned on him, his expression changed. “I'm not being left
behind!” Ron said stubbornly.

Harry was losing time. Ignoring the two, he turned and sprinted in the direction of Avery. He
knew he could move any minute, and the seconds right now were precious time lost. It wasn't
long before he heard footsteps running behind him. Draco caught up with him, Ron nowhere in sight.
Harry didn't bother how he managed that.

The two made their way to the secret passage, and only when Harry pulled the map out for the
password did he see that Avery had moved and was moving at top speed out off the grounds.

“*Liquefiat*.” He quickly said, pressing his wand to the mirror. It shimmered and turned
into a liquid substance that the two boys rushed through. It caused a chill like walking through a
ghost. They lit the tips of their wands and sprinted forward, but less than a minute and a half
into the dark hallway they tripped and tumbled down a long, stone slide. Yelling, the slide
eventually leveled out and they were met with a few inches of water.

“What is this?” Harry asked, raising his wand high to light the surroundings.

“A sewer type thing.” Draco answered automatically. “Check the map.”

Harry did and felt his heart sink. They weren't even halfway to the where the grounds
stopped in this stupid tunnel, but Avery was speeding like a bullet and already almost passed the
line. Seconds later, he was nowhere to be seen. Harry knew where the outlet of the tunnel was, but
he was sure Avery had already Disapparated once he left the grounds. “He's gone.”

Draco nodded, as if he had expected as much. “He had to have been on a broom. See how fast he
was going?” They both turned around to face the long slide. “How do we get out of here?”

Harry spied a staircase on the side of the slide. The steep, stone steps disappeared in the
darkness. They were underground, and the staircase would make them level out to the fourth floor of
the castle. Harry didn't want to do the math in his head of how many steps that would be. No
wonder the Slytherin used a broom.

“Oh, this is just going to suck, isn't it?” Draco said, his face falling at the overwhelming
sight before him.

Harry walked over to the stairs and took one last glimpse at the map, just to make sure Avery
was truly gone and saw a speech bubble coming from his own dot, like it did whenever he was at a
secret passage and there was a password for it. “*Anabathrum*.” He spoke uncertainly and a
section of the stone wall beside him melted away to reveal an elevator that would be found in a
mining shaft. He looked at Draco, who shrugged and strode forward. The system looked ancient, but
useable. Keeping an eye on the map, he saw another speech bubble. “*Erigo*,” Harry said and
the elevator began to rise.

“Well, this is a lot easier, huh?” Draco asked, looking around at the stone wall surrounding
them.

Harry nodded, but didn't speak. He hadn't caught Avery. He had left Hermione, who was
probably worried sick. How long had he been gone? More importantly, just what in the hell was going
on?

Once they reached the hallway on the Fourth Floor, they ran all the way to the mirror.

“Fuck!” Harry suddenly exclaimed as he felt glass pierce his barefoot. Hopping up and down on
one foot, he tried to inspect the other. Sure enough tiny shards of bloody glass were sticking
out.

Draco bent over where Harry had gotten cut to see what it was, just a few feet from the
shimmering mirror. “What's this?” Draco asked quizzically. He reached down and picked up a
ripped shirt.

Ignoring the pain in his foot, Harry dropped it immediately and took a closer look at the
garment in his friend's hand. Harry took it from his and recognized it to be the shirt Hermione
had been wearing. “Hermione was wearing it.” It was no longer soaked in blood, the way he
remembered, however. Instead, it was as if someone had rinsed it out. He looked down and saw that
more shards of glass glittered the floor, covered in blood that Harry knew couldn't be his from
stepping them—it was way too much and his foot was barely bleeding.

Draco shrugged and muttered, “*Reparo*!” and the shards suddenly fused back together. Harry
felt the few pieces painfully dislodge themselves from his foot. Draco reached down and picked up
the repaired, bloody vial. “What do you figure?” Draco asked quietly, his eyes telling Harry that
whatever this was, it couldn't be good.

Harry balled the shirt up in his fist and led the way through the mirror, “Let's go.”

Once they reached the Hospital Wing, Harry rushed to Hermione's bed. Surrounding her were
Ron, McGonagall, Snape, Dumbledore, and Madam Pomfrey.

“Potter! Did you find him?” McGonagall voice was soft, and she bustled forth to inspect him.
Harry had forgotten that he was still in a pair of sweats, barefoot, naked from the waist up, and
covered in blood.

Ron must have told them where he and Draco had gone. Harry shook his head. “He made it off the
grounds and Disapparated before we could catch up with him.” Harry saw that Hermione was still
unconscious, and he felt his heart honestly ache with sadness. “Why isn't she awake?” He
whispered hoarsely, slowly walked forward to take her hand in his. “She isn't…?” His voice
trailed off, unable to even say the words.

“She's alive.” Madam Pomfrey assured him. “Your handy spell work stopped the bleeding, but
she lost a lot of blood. I've given her a Blood Replenishing Potion. It's helped, but her
heartbeat is still very faint. I…I don't know why that is.” The old lady admitted, looking
worried.

“Can't it just be because she lost so much blood?” Harry urged, squeezing her hand in his.
He knew his words were wrong. He knew enough about Healing that that shouldn't matter. Her
blood was being replenished. A simple stab wound would not cause this. What sort of magic had he
done and why?

Madam Pomfrey pried him away from Hermione for a few minutes to get him into a quick shower to
wash off all the blood—his, Hermione's, and Avery's—and tended to the long gash on his
arm.

“What's this?” She asked, picking up Hermione's bed shirt Draco had found. Harry
shrugged, “Hermione's. We found it in the hallway. Avery had taken it.”

Harry felt exhausted but wide awake at the same time. His body begged for sleep, but his mind
was going haywire as he tried to connect these very weird dots—it was like trying to do a puzzle in
a different language. Nothing made sense.

He sat beside Hermione, his hand in hers, quietly watching her sleep.

Dumbledore cleared his voice behind him. “Harry…I am going to need you to tell me what happened.
Now, if you can—while it is all still fresh in your mind. If you sleep on it, you might forget
details. Can you do this?” He asked, his eyes no longer twinkling over his half-mooned
spectacles.

Harry nodded and cleared his own voice, he suddenly felt hoarse.

“Tell me everything.” Dumbledore instructed. “No detail is too small, and…be completely honest.”
He warned.

Harry felt his face flush. Everyone was no doubt wondering just how Harry had gotten to Hermione
so quickly before any alarm had even been raised.

Replaying the series of events in his mind, which instead of growing clearer only became blurred
and fuzzy, Harry began his tale in a monotone to the six members of his audience: “Hermione
hasn't known what she wanted to do after Hogwarts, so I went up to her dormitory to surprise
her with an exercise very much like the one I had to do for you, Professor, in my detention.” Harry
said, looking at Professor McGonagall. He figured he should stick to the truth the best he could.
“We worked late into the night and must have fallen asleep. I woke up in the middle of the night to
go to the loo, and when I came back, Avery was kneeing over Hermione's body, a knife in his
hand, holding it at the inside of her elbow. And he had pulled her shirt up like…I think he was
going to…to rape her.” Harry confessed, not meeting anyone's eyes.

“I ran and tackled him. He must have tried to strike quick and stabbed her.” Harry guessed, as
he saw this all happening in his mind. “Hermione started screaming and I pulled him off her and
down to the ground. We kept fighting, exchanging blows. Hermione just kept screaming, but then she
just suddenly stopped. He was able to get his stupid knife and cut me,” Harry said, pointing to his
shoulder that had a thin, red line from his should to the inside of his elbow, already fading fast.
“The pain caused me to go dizzy and he had…” Harry tried to concentrate on the memory to figure out
what he had had in his hand. “A bowl maybe? Or a cup…something. He held it against my arm, maybe to
capture the blood so it wouldn't get anywhere but…that doesn't make sense. I don't
know.” He gave the professor an apologetic look of despair.

Professor Dumbledore shook his head and gestured for him to continue.

“Then…I fell down again—he kicked me in the chest. He ran and took Hermione's shirt, but I
don't know why because he just left it,” Harry picked up the garment from the bedside table. “I
don't know why he would waste the time. But he yelled that I needed to check on Hermione, I
think it was so I wouldn't follow him, and I did because she looked…so bad. I tried to heal her
the best I could. There was blood everywhere. Then I tried to bring her here and I found Snape,
and…” Harry trailed off.

“Then we went after Avery.” Draco put in, seeing that Harry was close to tears. “He used a
secret passage on the Fourth Floor. Before we could catch up with him, he left the school grounds
and Disapparated.”

“How do know? And how did you know where he was?” Professor McGonagall asked.

The map. Harry's heart sank. His best kept secret for seven years. “I have a map of
Hogwarts—or had one, anyway. I lost in when we fell down the slide.” Harry lied easily. “It shows
where everyone on school grounds is at all times. I found Avery as soon as I handed off Hermione,
he was just sitting there in the passage. By the time we got there, he had moved, and we followed
until he disappeared from the map. He had a broom. We assumed that once he crossed the line,
he'd Disapparate.”

“Where did you get this map?” Snape and McGonagall both asked at once, but Dumbledore held a
hand up to silence them. Harry had the feeling this wasn't the first time he had heard of it,
and he knew Harry was lying about losing it.

“When we came back, we found the shirt because Harry stepped on…” Draco stopped suddenly and
fished into his pocket to produce the bloody vial they had come across. “Wait, maybe Avery used
this to get your blood?”

Harry furrowed his brows. “That makes sense, but…it doesn't make sense. I mean, why would he
want my blood?” Harry looked around and saw that everyone's eyes were on him.

Snape came forward and plucked the shirt from his fingers. “Miss Granger was wearing this…her
sheets were soaked in blood, but her shirt…?”

“It was, but when we found it, it wasn't anymore—it just had that red tint.” Harry replied
hopelessly.

Snape stepped closer to Hermione and bent over her body. He gently pried her mouth open and
leaned closer, as if to smell her breath. He pressed the tip of his wand to her forehead and closed
his eyes. Within seconds, his eyes snapped opened wide. “She has been sedated, heavily.”

Madam Pomfrey strode forward. “I would have caught that, professor. I gave her a general
antidote and that would have counteracted a sedation potion.”

Snape shook his head. “No, Madam, not this one. It isn't widely known. The Draught of the
Living Dead. It slows all your organs down, and you are barely kept alive. That's why her
heartbeat is so faint. There is no antidote, you have to wait for it to run its course. It is a
chemical reaction. It doesn't take effect until it touches blood—the last ingredient. It then
takes two minutes to take effect—this allows time for it to pump through the body in the
bloodstream. After two minutes, the heart pumps blood so slowly…that is why it stays in the system
for so long. Start out with a Flushing Potion—that may help speed up the process. Water it down and
inject it into her veins at as many points as possible.” Snape instructed.

“How long does it take to run its course?” Harry asked, looking up at the man—impressed despite
his hatred.

However, it was Dumbledore that answered him. “This potion may have saved her life. It slowed
the blood in her veins. Otherwise, she may have bled out. She was given a Blood Replenishing
Potion, and with a lot of the blood tainted by the potion already spilled…it shouldn't be too
long—tomorrow, morning, perhaps?”

“You read her mind.” Harry accused. “Then flinched about what you saw.” He whispered. What
torture was she going through?

Snape didn't reply again, and instead, looked at Madam Pomfrey, repeated his instructions,
“Water it down, inject it at as many point as possible,” then he swept from the room. Everyone
stared after him silently.

Dumbledore spoke first. “It is four a.m. boys, you should return to your dormitories and get
some rest. Miss Granger is in safe hands, and she will not awake until tomorrow at the earliest
anyhow. There is nothing we can do now.” He dismissed them.

Harry had no intention of going anywhere. He tightened his grip on Hermione's hand.
“I'll stay with her. You two get some rest.” Harry spoke numbly.

Professor McGonagall tilted her head slightly, “Potter, there is nothing you can do. Go back to
your dormitory.” Her voice was soft and caring, but Harry didn't even look her way.

“I could use a little help, if the headmaster will allow it…? My student aid won't be here
until tomorrow at the earliest.” Madam Pomfrey interjected quietly.

Dumbledore and McGonagall exchanged a look, and the Transfiguration professor shook her head
with a small smile on her face. “Weasley, Malfoy—back to your dormitories. And if you could please
keep the details of this situation to yourselves, for the moment?” She said sternly.

Dumbledore came up behind Harry and squeezed his shoulder, “She will be fine,” he promised,
before turning and leaving the room with everyone else. Harry had so many questions about
Snape's behavior and why he felt like the Potions Master knew more than he was letting on, but
he let it go. Hermione needed him.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000

Harry slept minimally through the early morning and woke a little after noon. He woke with a
start, his head bent over and taking up a small spot on Hermione's pillow. As the memory of the
night and morning assaulted his mind, his hand quickly found Hermione's and squeezed gently.
“Hermione?” He breathed, pushing her hair back from her face.

No response. Harry noticed that some color had returned to this girlfriend's face, no longer
the ashen gray it had been hours before. He pressed his hand flush to her chest, and felt a weak
heartbeat.

“Hermione?” He repeated, shaking her lightly, but still, nothing.

“She needs rest, Potter. Miss Granger will be fine.” A voice from behind spoke, and Harry turned
to see Madam Pomfrey with a fresh IV. He watched as she started the process of flushing
Hermione's blood once again, numb.

“Go get some lunch, Potter. She will be *fine*.” The Healer told him absently.

Harry violently shook his head. “No, I want to be here when she wakes up!” He argued.

“She won't awake for hours, at minimum. Now I am kicking you out. Shoo!” The older lady
demanded, pushing him towards the door.

With no other choice but to leave, Harry cast one last look at Hermione's motionless figure
before allowing himself to be dismissed.

He wandered down to the Great Hall, looking for Dumbledore. He ran into the old man as he was
exiting the Great Hall. “Professor, did you find him?!” Harry came rushing towards the old man, his
eyes begging.

The Headmaster looked troubled, and solemnly shook his head. “He did not return to his house.
His father insisted that he had not seen him since Easter holidays. He has not returned to the
school, either. Do not worry, Harry, we will find him. I have alerted friends at the Ministry about
the situation.” Dumbledore confessed. Harry knew how much the man hated the Ministry interfering
with the school, so he knew Dumbledore was honestly exhausting all of his resources.

Harry nodded. “If you hear anything, Professor…?” Harry trailed off.

The man nodded. “I will keep you informed. Now, please, go eat and get some sleep. You look
ghastly, Harry. Hermione will be just *fine*. Severus is doing all he can to try to find
anything that will speed up her recovery.”

Harry's throat tightened and he nodded again. He was really beginning to hate the word
`fine.'

All eyes were on his as he sat alone at the Gryffindor table. Harry tried to eat, but everything
tasted like cardboard. He hated sitting here, doing nothing, when Avery was out on the loose. When
Hermione was unconscious in the Hospital Wing. When Snape was looking for something to help, and he
was sitting on his ass, eating lunch.

Finally, unable to take not doing anything, Harry abruptly got up and left the Great Hall.

His feet led him to the Dungeon, but not Snape's office. A few First Years were moseying
around in one of the corridors, leading from the Slytherin's Common Room.

“Hodges. What's the Common Room password?” Harry demanded from the little girl, who looked
terrified of the Gryffindor towering over her.

“W-what?” She stuttered. “I don't think we're allowed to give that out.”

“I'm Head Boy. I'm allowed to know. Now give me the password.” Harry repeated.

The girl looked at her friend, who shrugged her tiny shoulders unhelpfully.

“The password is `untainted.” She said, eyes wide.

“Thanks.” Harry replied and continued down to the end of the corridor to a section of stone wall
between two torches. “Untainted.” The wall creaked and opened to gain him entrance into the
Slytherin Common Room.

The Slytherin Common Room contrasted from the Gryffindor Common Room greatly. It extended
partially under the lake, so the windows let in a greenish tinge. Green lamps hung on the walls,
and green flames crackled in the black fireplace. Hard, low-back chairs and extravagant black and
emerald leather couches littered the room. Emerald and silver tapestries decorated the stone walls.
Harry very much preferred his own welcoming and cozy Common Room.

He searched for the group in mind, finding them monopolizing the area surrounding the fire.
Avery's gang of Slytherins, their leader noticeably absent. His expression hardening, Harry
strode over to the group.

“Potter, aren't you a little far from home?” Pansy taunted, an ugly expression on her
pug-like face. “Isn't your girlfriend in the Hospital Wing or something?”

Harry felt his hands clenched into fists. “Where is he?”

Other members of the little group turned their smirks in his direction, interest spiked by this
lone Gryffindor.

Two of his bigger thugs, Crabbe and Goyle, stood menacingly and tried to stand threateningly
over Harry. Harry ignored them. “Your piece of shit of a mate crossed a very big line. And I think
you know exactly where he is. And you're going to tell me.” Harry spouted off to the two goons,
pulling out his wand.

They laughed. “And even if we did, why would we tell you?” Goyle croaked, crossing his arms
across his chest.

Harry kept his exterior cool. He knew he could hex both of these thugs before they even knew
what was happening, no contest. He tapped Goyle's massive chest with the tip of his wand and
took a step forward, just as menacingly. “Because you don't want me to kick your ass, Goyle.
You know I have more talent in my pinky toe than you do in your entire body. I just want answers
because your boy has to own up to what he did.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Crabbe make a move but before either of them could do
anything, Harry had them both in a Body Binding Curse and threw them against the stone wall with a
flick of his wand. He turned back to the group. “Now does someone have answers for me?” He asked,
anger blazing.

Harry could see the apprehension in their eyes. Harry looked at Pansy in the eye and spoke
slowly, hatefully, “I know how you must feel, you bloke going after some other girl—a beautiful
`mudblood' at that. Obviously you aren't enough for him. So why are you protecting the
bastard?” He spit his words at the bitch he hated.

He could tell his words bothered her, and that she had wondered the exact same thing.

Shaking from head to toe, she came after him, screaming shrilly. Harry easily pushed her away
from him, not caring if she got hurt or not. That would do Avery good. What if he hurt Pansy? As
she sat crumbled at his feet with his wand aimed between her eyes, Harry voiced his thoughts aloud,
“I can't help but wonder…if he would even care.” Harry knew his words hurt her as her eyes
closed and tears began to leak down her cheeks.

Harry felt a strong urge to destroy this girl before him. He wanted to mutate her, hurt her. He
wanted revenge on his own girlfriend, and honestly, he didn't care if Avery cared about this
girl or not. The bastard attacked his girlfriend—tried to *rape* his girlfriend. With the
tables turned, Harry wanted nothing more than to hex this girl until he couldn't think of
another curse to throw at her.

“Come on, Potter. Take a walk with me,” a voice said from behind, putting a halt to Harry's
terrible thoughts.

Harry looked over to see Blaise Zabini staring at him meaningfully. Torn, Harry finally eased up
on his wand. Feeling only slightly guilty, Harry squatted down so he was eye level with the
heartbroken girl before him. “The next time I see the son of a bitch, he's dead. Tell him
that.” Harry said menacingly. “Tell him I hope I find him first.”

Harry straightened up and followed the girl from the Common Room, all eyes on them.

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*And when I heard you let him die
And made the world all wonder why
I sat at home, and on my own
I cried alone and scratched your name
In the side of a bullet

And in the wake of his mistake
So many lives are broken
Gone forever from a loaded bullet
And no excuse that you could use
Could pull somebody through it
And to this day so many say
"God, why'd you let him do it?"*

*“Side Of A Bullet” NICKELBACK*

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They were silent until they crossed into another deserted corridor, lit only with the eerie
green light from the lake coming in the windows much like the Slytherin Common Room and a few small
torches with green flames.

Only slightly familiar with this part of the Castle, Harry just continued to walk in silence
with the girl he knew nothing about.

“I'm sorry to hear about your girlfriend. Madam Pomfrey asked me to come in and help right
away. Had me doing some research. I've become an aid for her this year, going to study Healing
next year.” She said, answering his questioning look. “Is she okay?” She finally asked.

Harry looked over at he in the darkened corridor. “She'll be fine. What do you know?” He
asked bluntly, still lost as to why she wanted him to walk with her.

“You can stop the intimidating crap, Potter. I don't have to say anything and honestly, I
shouldn't. Let's get one thing straight—you are at my mercy right now.” She spoke
matter-of-factly.

Within seconds, Harry had the smaller girl pinned to the wall and his wand at her throat. “You
might want to consider into your calculations that right now, I've got the upper hand and no
patience for your game.”

The girl would not be intimidated, and easily brought her leg up to knee Harry between his legs.
He pulled back away from her and bent over, his hands immediately cradling his pained groin
area.

She pulled her wand out and rested its tip on the bridge of Harry nose. “Perhaps *you*
should consider into your calculations that you're trying to intimidate fucking Blaise Zabini,
Potter. My mother is a black belt.”

Harry straightened up and the Slytherin Perfect lowered her wand. She smirked and Harry found
himself smirking back. “Okay,” he backed off. “I underestimated you,
Slytherin-kung-fu-fighting-healing-extraordinaire. But please, stop wasting my time while Hermione
is alone in the Hospital Wing. What is it you want?” Harry asked quietly.

“Tell me what happened.” She said simply.

Harry raised an eyebrow. “You're wasting my time for gossip?”

She smiled at him. “Now that would be interesting, wouldn't it? No. Just…trust me.”

Harry gave a laugh or derision. “Trust a Slytherin? A Slytherin that just kneed me in my
misters?”

“Keep your hands to yourself, and we'll be fine.” She shot back.

Harry ran a hand through his hair and gave a quick run though of what had happened in under a
minute. “Happy? How what can you tell me?”

“I've been in the same house as that bastard for seven years now.” She said as they walked
down the dark corridor. “Avery is a slime ball. He's a pervert. He's really just the worst
kind of bloke, you know? He's a bully. He's arrogant. He's a lot of things.

“But he's not a rapist, Potter.” She said, looking over at Harry. “Like I said he's a
lot of things, but…not that. Trust me.”

“How do you know?” Harry asked incredulously. “How can you be so sure?”

“He's saved…someone…before from…someone. Probably the only good deed he's ever done.
He's a pervert, I'll give you that. He'd sneak a peek, but he wouldn't rape
someone.” Her voice was unsure and soft.

Harry let her words sink in. “Okay, so why was he in Hermione's room then? Taking her
clothes off?” Harry asked heatedly.

She stopped and turned to look at him. He could barely make out her features in the eerie green
light. “Because, like I said, he's the worst kind of bloke, Harry. He's power hungry.
He's smart as fuck. He's persuasive. He goes after the vulnerable. He's a nightmare,
Potter. And…there's more.

“Adelia…my younger sister…she said she saw him sneaking around. She's fancied him—said there
was good in him—for a long while now. She follows his every move. I told her to stay out of it. But
she told me…she says lately he's been leaving the grounds, especially on weekends, and just
disappears and doesn't return until Sunday night. I don't know what's going on
but…judging from his past…I think rape last night would have been the least of your worries with
the storm that's might really be brewing.” She said, and Harry could tell it was difficult for
her to talk about this.

Harry was silent for a few moments. He thought about what the Slytherin had told him as he tried
to revisit his memory from the night before. In his mind, the bastard had been trying to undress
Hermione. But he had taken blood from both of them. He had given her a heavy sedative. He thought
about Snape expression after looking into her mind. He had bewitched her dreams…just like he must
have bewitched them from months ago. He had tried to lure her to the Dark Arts. He controlled her
dreams to assist him. Then he had attacked her. But he took her blood. He took his own blood as
well. But why? What was the ultimate end to all of this?

As if processing all of this with him, Blaise looked at him, and Harry saw his own budding fear
mirror in her eyes here in the dark corridor, and she didn't even know the half of it.

“He's into something, something big. He's changed. He's sickly. He's nervous.
Vulnerable. He's scared. I told you…my sister notices everything about him, and she came to me
with this a few days ago…”

Harry's eyes narrowed. “Then why didn't you go to Dumbledore?”

Her fear turned into indignity. “How was I supposed to know what was going on? I couldn't
have predicted this any more than you could have. Just be glad that she's alive because I
think…I think he could have killed her if he wanted to. Maybe. I don't know how far gone he is.
I know when Luna had that bout of depression all those years after her mother's death, and
Avery took her under his wing during her early days at Hogwarts…I don't know. He wasn't
that far gone then. But now…even I've taken notice after my sister said something. And
don't bother beggaring the rest of the House—no one knows what he's up to, not even his
friends. He's playing this close to the chest. He looks…desperate. And what can the great
Jonathan Avery be so desperate about?”

Her question lingered in the air for a few minutes. As Harry's mind continued to process all
this new information, he came to one conclusion for sure. “Go to Dumbledore. Take your sister with
you. Tell him anything and everything you can think of. You'll do this, yes?” Harry asked, his
eyes begging.

He could tell the girl was uncomfortable, but she nodded. “Yes, of course. And for what it's
worth…I'm sorry this happened to her.”

Harry nodded. “Thank you. I'll…I'll talk to you soon, okay? But please, get to
Dumbledore as soon as you can.” With that, Harry turned on his heel and rushed from the Dungeons.
Hermione wouldn't be awake yet, but he still felt like he had been gone too long. He hadn't
protected her from Avery, and he wasn't going to make that mistake again.

Hermione was still laying on her bed, but instead of Madam Pomfrey fussing over her, it was
Snape. Harry stood in the doorway as the Potions Master chanted almost silently an incantation over
her body, his wand dragging slowly along her skin.

Harry slowly walked in, careful not to disrupt the man's concentration. He hated this man,
he knew. For him to take so much to Hermione Granger was completely surprising. But he did and the
odd relationship between the two was just as mind boggling as it was there. He genuinely cared for
this young witch, and would stop at nothing to help her.

After a few more minutes, Snape finally straightened up, no longer hunched over her body.

“Is she any better?” Harry whispered, fearing the reply.

Snape's hand found her heartbeat. “Her heart beats a little stronger.” He replied
softly.

Before Harry could stop himself, unsure why he was telling the man this, but he found
Blaise's story spilling monotonously from his lips. He knew the Potions Master was keeping his
own secrets, but perhaps if he had all the information, he could piece together something to help
Hermione or have an inkling what all this meant. If Harry was lucky, the man would share his
findings with him.

Snape gave no response and Harry wasn't even sure if the man had listening, but
nevertheless, Harry pressed on. He told him about the dreams Hermione had had. He told him his
suspicion that Avery had been behind it all. He told he and Blaise thought Avery was answering to
someone else—someone that turn the confident, arrogant bully into a desperate, fearful boy.

When Harry was finished, Snape stood and left without so much as a goodbye.

Alone now, Harry wrapped Hermione's hand in two of his own and he closed his eyes, praying
he wouldn't cry.

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*I wanted you to know I love the way you laugh
I want to hold you high and steal your pain away
I keep your photograph; and I know it serves me well
I want to hold you high and steal your pain

Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome
And I don't feel right when you're nowhere
You've gone away,
You don't feel me here anymore*

*“Broken” SEETHER*

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Sunday morning came and gone. There were wild, inaccurate stories about what had happened Friday
night-Saturday morning. Stories of rape. Stories of duels. Fights. Tales of Harry being strung up
like a piñata in the Slytherin Common Room. Accounts that Harry took on everyone in the Slytherin
Common Room and won.

Nothing was true. Nothing was entirely false—except for the piñata part. Hermione's
heartbeat was normal by late Sunday morning. Madam Pomfrey said it was only a matter of time before
she would wake up—and we must let her do that. Let her wake up on her own.

So Harry sat and waited, his patience running thin. Ron, Draco, Ginny, and Neville brought him
food and waited with him. Luna visited when they all left, ashen-faced and tears in her eyes. Even
Blaise made her way over to Hermione's bed. She told him she had talked Dumbledore, and Harry
had mutely nodded his thanks.

Alone Sunday evening, the screaming started.

Harry had been studying aloud for his N.E.W.T.S., sharing his notes with Hermione in case she
could hear him, when suddenly, she sat straight up and was yelling as if she were on fire. Sweat
was quickly pouring from her forehead and neck. Harry dropped his notes and his first instinct was
to restrain her. Her arms were flailing in all directions, ripping the IV from her arm. Harry
jumped on the bed so he was sitting on her legs and wrapped his arms around her, pinning her arms
to her sides.

“Hermione! Hermione! Calm down, Hermione. It's me. I'm here.” He tried to tell her, but
still she thrashed about, yelling for him to get off of her.

The racket caused Madam Pomfrey to come running, and after quickly taking in the scene, she
conjured a set of bed constraints that snaked their way around Hermione's wild body movements
and forced her to still. The screaming, however, continued.

“Hermione, please, please, everything is okay. Hermione, can you hear me?!” Harry tried to sooth
her from the side of the bed. Desperate, he tried to cover her mouth with his hand so she could
hear him, but she only bit down on his finger, hard, drawing blood. “Fuck!”


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Hermione's movements were stilled and voices talked above her, but she heard none of it. She
fought the constraints, but quickly felt herself tirign. Her body ached. Her mind ached. But she
had to get out. She had to get away from what she saw.

Someone tried to smother her, but she instinctively bit them. Then her screaming resumed.

“Can't you sedate her?!”

“I'm not going to take the chance. Her heart may not be able to take it. Let her tire
herself out.”

Hermione could barely hear the voices above her own, but as if it was a command, she felt the
toll her tantrum was taking on her body. Her throat hurt and felt like it was ready to rip. Her
body felt beat up and bruised from fighting a losing battle against the straps.

Once the thrashing was stilled, and her voice gave out, Hermione's wild gaze took in her
surroundings. Two people were standing over her. Two people she knew. One she knew was dead, one
she didn't know much about at all.

“How...how are you…?” She began screaming again.

Despite the second wind she had gotten, Harry wrapped his arms around her the best he could and
tried to sooth her. But he was dead. She had killed him. The whole world had change.

She would not give in to this fantasy. Harry did not have her arms around her. This was a dream.
Hermione tried to pull away from him, but he would have none of it. Finally, she allowed herself to
cry into his chest. “I'm so sorry.” She said through soggy tears. She tried to wrap her arms
around him, but the constraints wouldn't allow it. Harry suddenly undid them and Hermione
allowed herself to enjoy this trick, this dream. She pulled Harry onto the bed with her and wrapped
her body around his the best she could and let him hold her as she sobbed noisily into his
chest.

Feeling sudden fatigue, Hermione felt her eyes droop and she abruptly fell asleep, still
clinging on to Harry as if her life depended on it.

Harry, shocked by this sudden behavior and the assault from Hermione, had done the only thing he
could think of. She tried to get to him so he had undone her constraints and let her wrap herself
around him like an anaconda. She could not get close enough to him, but all he knew was if this is
what she needed, he would more than willing give her his body. She pulled him to her, onto her bed.
Her grip was amazingly strong, but Harry just held her tightly. Her body shook as sobs wracked
through her body. He pressed a kiss to her temple and rubbed her back in soothing circles. She had
instantly fallen asleep.

Madam Pomfrey had watched all this with wide eyes. Harry looked over at her, and saw his own
confusion staring back at him. She shrugged. “I…I have no idea what to do.” She confessed.

“Do nothing then.” Harry said. “If this is what she needs…then do nothing.”

And for an hour, Harry cradled Hermione's slumbering body against his own, just listening to
her breath and fighting the urge to sleep, which he ultimately lost.

Hermione slowly found her way back from the sluggish feeling weighing her down. Her mind
completely empty, Hermione opened her eyes. She felt as if she had taken a dreamless sleep potion.
Harry's strong arms here wrapped possessively around her, just as hers were around him. This
felt wrong, somehow. She shouldn't be able to do this. She looked around the dark room and saw
that she was in the Hospital Wing. This also felt wrong. Her light jostling had awoken Harry, who
had fallen into a semi-conscious sleep.

“Hermione?” He breathed into her neck, sending chills down her spine—both good and bad. Good,
because well…it was always good. Bad because…wasn't he…? Grief crept into her stomach as she
tried to sort this out. She felt in limbo. Was she dreaming?

“Hermione?” He whispered again, just as lightly.

Hermione figured she should probably answer, “Yes?”

Suddenly, she felt his lips gently pressed down on hers. “You're really back.” He mumbled
against her lips. His hand found the back of her head and pulled her closer for a lip-bruising
kiss. Hermione answered back with just as much vigor as she held back a moan and wrapped her leg
around his hip to get closer. Definitely a dream, and one she didn't want to end, she thought
as she deepened the kiss.

Harry pulled back but Hermione began to attack his neck with nips and kisses and her tongue.

“Oh *Godric-Rowena-Helga-and-Sal**a**zar*!” Harry groaned loudly before pulling
her mouth to his again. They needed to stop. This was insane. One minute, she wakes up yelling like
a banshee, and the next, she's on him like a virgin on a veela!

Harry disentangled his tongue and limbs from hers and got unsteadily to his feet.

“What are you doing!?” Hermione asked, looking confused.

“I'd like to ask you the same question!” Harry whispered back. “Not that I mind, I just…I
don't know what's going on.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow. What sort of dream was this? She voiced her concerns, which caused
Harry to look at her funny.

“Dream? What? No, Hermione, this is *real*. What are you on about? Don't you remember
anything?” He asked urgently.

His words caused Hermione to stop in her tracks. This wasn't a dream? What? But he was…she
couldn't even think it.

While his words confused her, they also felt true. Like everything else had been a dream. But
how could that be? It felt like a lifetime had passed.

Hermione brought her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around her shins. Tears
threatened to spill over. She felt so drained and bemused.

“I'm so lost.” She confessed, looking up at him with shining eyes.

Harry bent down and kissed her gently on her forehead. “Then let me help you.” He sat beside her
on the bed and wrapped an arm around her. “You were attacked by Avery while you were sleeping. We
fell asleep in your room when you were working on finding a career, remember?” Harry asked.

His words jogged her memory. Yes, she did remember. “But that was so long ago…” She trailed
off.

“Today is Sunday. That was Friday night. Two days ago. I went to the loo, and Avery attacked
you. I thought…I thought he was trying to rape you. He stabbed you,” Harry pulled her shirt up to
reveal nothing but smooth skin, “here. You bled out a lot. Avery and I fought on the floor of your
dormitory, but he ended up getting away. I did what I could, but there was blood everywhere. You
were unconscious. I was on my way here when Snape found us and I gave you to him and he brought you
here. I went after Avery, but he'd left the grounds. He gave you a heavy sedative, and
you've been out ever since you fell unconscious in your dormitory. Then you woke up an hour and
a half ago, going mad. You were screaming and flailing wildly. Madam Pomfrey didn't want to
risk putting you under another sedative, so she strapped you to the bed. Then you tried to cling to
me like your life depended on it, so I undid the straps and…well, I let you. You were crying and
kept apologizing and finally, you fell back asleep. Then you woke up again…and…and…well, tried to
jump my bones, I guess.” Harry said with a grin.

Hermione's cheeks flushed.

“Why were you apologizing?” Harry asked. “You've done nothing to be sorry.”

“Because…” Hermione whispered softly, “I killed you.”

Harry wrapped her tighter in his arms. “No, you didn't. I'm right here.”

Hermione still felt lost, though she was piecing together what was reality, and what was
fabrication.

“What…what were you dreaming?” Harry asked slowly, as if fearful for the answer.

Hermione was realizing that the lifetime that had passed had all been in her head. The terror
was a dream. “Horrible things. Worse than how it used to be. Voldemort was terrible. I was
terrible. We did…there was so much Hell.” Hermione whispered as parts of her dreams flashed before
her eyes.

*“Mother, Father…you just don't get it. You…are no longer needed.” Hermione laughed before
lighting a match and throwing it do the ground. It caught the gasoline and she watched as her
parents burned and she was safe, in her little bubble*.

“I…I think I know that now. But it felt so…real.” Hermione said, clearly disturbed by the images
in her head.

*She strode across the battlefield, bodies burning and the remnants of battle surrounding her.
Draco. Ron. Ginny. Luna. Neville. All their bodies were accounted for. All their bodies broken and
burned. She looked over at Avery, who walked a few steps behind her. She winked and he laughed.
Hermione flicked her wand and listened to his scream of pain. His expression changed to one of
stone. Hermione laughed. Such a weakling.*

Harry pulled her close. “I know. But their all lies. And you're good. I know you are,
otherwise, would I be able to hold you like this?” He asked, his hand cradling her face lovingly.
“Merlin, Hermione, you've had me scared to death!” He said before kissing her urgently.

Hermione kissed him back, though her mind was on other things. Harry pulled away. “I'm going
to go get Madam Pomfrey. She needs to look you over.” He said, and stood to go to her office.

Hermione leaned back and laid her head on her pillow, her hands coming up to cradle the back of
her head. Her brain still hurt.

*Hermione smirked wickedly at Harry Potter, on his* *knees* *before her* *his
hands bound behind his back**. His naked back scarred and bloodied. His face* *and
torso* *dirty. His screams echoed in the chamber as she tortured him again. Walking forward,
she spit in his face and laughed a high, cold laugh. “Finish him,” a voice sneered from behind her,
and she raised her wand, uttered the words and watched as a green light hit him squarely in*
*his bare* *chest*.

Memories still mixed with lies. Images still flashed in her mind's eye. Her dreams have
confused her. It had only been two days. Her dreams were lies. She had been bewitched, bewitched by
that snake Slytherin, she knew.

Despite knowing reality from the fabrications, despite the fog lifting and her seeing things
clearly, Hermione felt a chill on her spine and a nasty nagging in the back of her brain, as if
everything hadn't been lies. Perhaps, some—not even some, just some*thing*—had been
true.

*A hooded figure stood over a simmering cauldron* *in a graveyard**. A man wept in
the background, and a trail of blood dripped down the side of the massive cauldron. Still, the
hooded figure worked mechanically, reading and rereading* *the instructions. T**wo
vials—the final ingredients—**sat the on the small table. With trembling hands, he picked up
one vial, uncorked it, and poured it into the cauldron.*

*“*With Salazar's blood, you will reunite a broken line*.” He whispered as the
cauldron's bubbled* *emerald**.*

*And finally, he opened the last vial,* *hovered it over the bubbling
concoction**.*

*“*Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken, you will resurrect your foe*.”*

*Finally, he tipped its contents in the green potion, turning it a deep blood red before a
blinding bright white, the potion bubbling over and some mixing with the blood already running down
the side. The hooded figure used his robes to shield his eyes from the bright light, then
finally,* *peeked at his work.*

*Softly, he* *chanted**, “**The Dark Lord shall rise again**.”*

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*Generals gathered in their masses
Just like witches at black masses
Evil minds that plot destruction
Sorcerers of death's construction
In the fields the bodies burning
As the war machine keeps turning
Death and hatred to mankind
Poisoning their brainwashed minds*

*“War Pigs” BLACK SABBATH*

**To Be Continued With…**

**Calm Before The Storm**

**So what did everyone think!? Remember, this is your last chance to review for this story, so
whether you've reviewed every chapter or never done it before, please let me know what you
think. I've spent 8 years on this—I can't believe it's done! I will have the new story
out SUPER SOON—less than two weeks, I promise. I'm excited to start the next one. It will be
much easier and more laid back—for the moment anyhow!**

**Thank you all for reading, and for sticking with me. You have been awesome. I know some of
you have actually been reading since the beginning—I can't even believe that, that's
amazing. I would have given up on me!**

**Once again, thanks everyone. I really appreciate you all so much.**

**See you in the next one!**

***~Archie~***
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