DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter, J.K. does, and she has every right to do whatever she thinks is best for Harry Potter. I just love writing. So sue me. Wait, seriously… don't.
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"WHAT!!" Cho staggered backwards as she cried out in appall, her voice echoing through the throngs of trees and predictably making birds flutter to the open sky. "Her? You're breaking up with me because of that--that Little Miss Perfect?"
"She is, isn't she?" Harry replied coolly, stifling good-natured laughs as he was feeling lighthearted all of a sudden. If truth be told, he felt almost peaceful enough to ignore Cho's fiery stare as it bore a hole through him as he continued to stare at her with an innocent expression. For once, he didn't care what she had to say to him. "Can't blame you for noticing." He added.
"What are you talking about? That wasn't a compliment!" Cho fortified furiously. "Listen to me, Harry. Don't let her get to you. You only found out about how she feels and you came here breaking up with me--"
"You came here." Harry interrupted with visible controlled laughter.
"I--!" She began, and then stopped, looking perfectly embarrassed as she realized that he had made a point. After taking a few short breaths, Cho began talking rapidly again. "This is all wrong. Only someone who's seriously deranged would consider going out with…"
"How can it be wrong when it's the only damn thing that feels right?" Harry cut her off before she could say another foul word about his best friend.
"She's boring! And dating her would be a mistake!" Cho gazed at him with certainty and looked ready to kill. "When you're with her, she drags you into dull conversations about subjects you never knew existed. She's no fun at all! And you know what? Most people would rather be seen with a cow than with that bore!"
"Don't talk about Hermione like that as if you know her." Harry defended, enraged that something as low as that comparison came out from the last person he least expected it would.
"I don't need to know her to say that she is!" She cried out. With a look of painful anguish, she craned her neck upward a little to be able to gaze on his flushed face. And then, she lowered her head and spoke again in a soft manner that surprised and impressed Harry all at once. "What's the matter, Harry? Am I not perfect enough for you?"
Harry shook his head and said. "No, that's not the reason."
"Then why are you saying all these?"
"Because I think--I know--it was a mistake to think you were whom I wanted to spend my life with." Harry said with certainty, trying with great trouble to make her look into his eyes again and let her see that what he was saying was also hard for him. But as she already had tears of hurt pride flowing down her cheeks to prove her beaten esteem, he couldn't make her look up and just concentrated on finishing his point instead. "It's over between us, Cho. And it's not because of whatever reason you're thinking of. It sure hell is not because you're not perfect enough. You're more than perfect, but Hermione is--" He stopped, thinking of saying the appropriate words to lessen the pain he was inadvertently inflicting on her.
"And Hermione is?" Cho pressed on sullenly, starting to sound defeated.
"Hermione--is the right one for me." He finished emphatically. Then he smiled at her cordially as he continued. "Funny, you know, how I never noticed how things were already the way they were. Call it naivety, but I call it denial. It never crossed my mind--I didn't let it cross my mind, actually--that she could fall in love with me, her best friend. Perhaps I was also scared to admit that I might actually like it and return the same affection so I shut the thought out even before it reached my mind. But no matter how I tried countless of times to turn her away from me, away from the life I have, filled with so many risks, she still never left my side. And that made my decision easier to make and easier to accept. I guess I'll always need someone who wouldn't give up just because it seems hopeless."
"And your point in telling me this is?" Cho asked, calmer now and more accommodating.
"I want you to realize I can no longer be in a relationship where there is no love involved. Don't get me wrong. I admired you, yes, but only because you were Cho Chang, the attractive Quidditch player I have known since I was 13 years old. But I only know her; I don't know you." He pocketed his hands and walked away, then stopped and looked back at her with an apologetic gaze. "You may be perfect in everything you do, but you're not what I need…or anymore what I want. I'm sorry."
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"Excuse me?" Ron asked the 6th year prefect, Peter Bland, who was standing in front of him, staring at him with a puckered brow, curious as to why he was crouching at the corner of the hallway looking alarmed. Ron straightened up in a decent position, hoping to stop the visible interest of the 6th year he was facing from peaking up than what has already been aroused.
"You're one of her friends, right?" He stated without respect. "You're Ron Weasley, aren't you?"
"Yeah…" Ron admitted, casting a secretive look towards Myrtle's bathroom.
"Well, have you seen her? She's wanted for the meeting." He informed haughtily, showing Ron the nerve that Alfred Olsen wasn't able to show Snape the day before.
"Meeting? What meeting?" Then he grimaced, remembering the sign he saw a while ago just before he had left the Great Hall. "Never mind, I know what you're talking about."
He began to feel sweat trickling on his nape then down to his back. What could he tell this guy who doesn't seem to be showing signs of life aside from staring at him as if the word `brainless' was written on his forehead?
"Do you know where she is?" The guy asked again looking at his watch as he did; the annoyance in his tone had increased and was now twice as strong as the one he had used before.
"I'm not sure." Ron said, after a few seconds of pretending to think. "But I suppose she's still in the Greenhouses. I saw her go there ten minutes ago."
Peter looked at his watch again and sighed. "Well, she certainly doesn't look at announcement boards. Seems to me like she prefers wandering off to places when there are some matters at hand. Better go get her then." Without bothering to thank Ron, he turned around and ran down the steps towards the first floor.
Ron watched the boy disappear around the corner and sagged on the wall in relief. `That was close.' He thought. Then he looked at his watch. It was 1:26 in the afternoon. They still had 4 minutes left.
Staying still for a few more seconds, Ron thought of Hermione pacing back and forth in front of the potion and he decided to wait for another minute. Seeing her in that state would only cause him more anxiety than what he was feeling at the moment.
Whatever he wanted to do to stop her would be useless for he knows it was already too late. He knows that whatever Hermione has set her mind on getting; that iron-will of hers wouldn't let anything stand in her way. All he can do now was hope that everything turns out all right, just like the way they had planned it would be--and just like how Hermione assured both of them it would be.
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Harry panted as he made his way inside the castle. Leaving Cho like that wasn't what he had planned on doing, but it was inevitable. If he hadn't left her, still astounded and speechless about the unexpected break up, she might have had recovered from her shock fast enough to make a scene thereafter, which was the last thing he wanted--especially with a revelation coming.
He shook his head and laughed without spirit. Who would have thought that in just a short span of time, he would discover something that he had unthinkingly kept from himself for such a long time?
Moreover, Harry couldn't help but be astounded with himself that he was running up the steps towards the Hospital Wing like a madman, hoping to still find Hermione there and be able confess all the things he had been depriving of her.
As he turned around the corridor, he almost immediately stopped as he found himself grasping the new tests he was about to face. How would he be able to induce her to allow him to sit beside her bed in the Hospital Wing and let him state all that he wanted to when she didn't want him anywhere near her?
More importantly, even if she was to agree to let him stay, would she even be forgiving enough to listen to anything he was to say? And what about convincing her? It would more trouble than he could imagine, not mentioning that it was definitely the hardest part of all the things he had to do.
How would he tell her that despite the fact that everyone knows he's in love with Cho, she was really the one whom he cared for? Would he be able to make her see Cho was the furthest thing from his mind now, when everybody thinks he was still head over heels in love with her.
He shook his head and persisted on making his way to the Hospital Wing. There was no point in worrying about it now, he decided, he would cross the bridge when he gets there. And when that time comes, he would follow his instincts, because so far, everything he's been doing was being manipulated by it.
As he turned to take the stairs towards the floor where the Hospital Wing was located, he skidded to a halt again when he found himself face to face with Peter Bland, a cocky 6th year prefect he had disliked since the moment he met him.
"Oh, Harry. It's good I found you." He exasperated, taking hold of Harry's shoulders, breathing rapidly. "I've been looking for hours."
`Hours?' Harry thought, scoffing mentally. `Probably minutes.' "Why?" He asked, impatiently showing that he wanted to be somewhere else.
"We have a meeting." Bland said edgily, showing how he wanted to be somewhere else as much as Harry does. "It's in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. We couldn't get started without the head boy and girl so I was asked to look for both." He complained. "I got to run; I still have to go to the Greenhouses to get Hermione."
Harry couldn't help but think as Peter Bland ran past him and across the hallway. Greenhouses? He was just there a minute ago, wasn't he? No one was there except him and Cho.
He turned around and ran after Peter who was about to go around the corner. He stopped the prefect before he could get much farther away. "Who told you she was there?"
"Ronald Weasley." He answered hurriedly, looking back at Harry.
"Where?"
"Second floor."
"Thanks." Harry backed away and turned around, suddenly thinking profoundly.
Second floor? There were no classes today and no one was on that level apart from Ron because the students were eating in the Great Hall. Then he stopped dead on his tracks; a memory flashing back.
Second floor, second year…
"Enlighten me, why are we brewing this potion in broad daylight and in the middle of the girls' lavatory. Don't you think we'd get caught?"
Without thinking at all, he changed directions and began taking the path to the second floor corridor where Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom could be found.
Was he too late? This question kept on reverberating inside his brain as he ran in quick paces up the steps. He could feel sweat trickling at the back of his neck, the cause of physical and emotional exertion.
As he reached his designated ground, he immediately advanced to the Girls' Bathroom towards the corner of the end of the hallway. He turned around the bend; not noticing that the person he was looking for was just sitting on the floor near the curve he had just rounded on.
His footsteps left eerie uproars on the stone flooring as he continued to draw near the bathroom. Unknown to him was Ron, who had seen him and was following him with a look alarm because of the look of pure fret on Harry's expression.
His heart pounded in his ears as he saw the entrance to the restroom. Without hesitation, he pushed the door open, not even bothering that it had created a loud bang on the wall. He sprinted across the room.
"Hermione!"
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Hermione jolted awake as someone banged loudly on the bathroom door. She stood up groggily and groaned out loud as a heavy drugged feeling overwhelmed her.
Vaguely remembering the potion she had taken, she asked herself.
`Did it work?' She looked down on the floor she was standing on and the first thing she noticed the moment she did was the absence of the tools she had used for the potion and the book she had gotten information from.
Frowning, she turned around countless of times in search for the missing materials until she clutched her head in dizziness and felt likely to throw up.
"Hello?" Someone with an unfamiliar voice asked again from the outside. "Hello in there?"
Hermione swiftly turned towards the entrance as she gripped her chest hard, trying to calm down the nervous beating of her heart. "Y-yeah?"
"You've been in there for quite some time now. Would you mind giving some room for those who want to use it?"
"Huh?" Hermione asked, bewildered. "Oh, sure." She said as she unlocked the stall's door and got out. She flashed an apologetic smile at the person who had been talking to her, but found herself staring in shock at a face she has never seen before. "Who--who are you?" She asked, her lips trembling.
The girl looked at her with raised eyebrows. "Gabrielle Hart. 7th year Gryffindor." She said.
Her snobbery was too palpable and bizarrely implausible to ignore that Hermione couldn't help but further stare at her. Having nothing else to say, she just greeted the student. "Hello."
With a critical look and a smug sigh, Gabrielle overtook her and entered the stall. Even as the door shut by her face, Hermione just stood there, dumbfounded and confused by the words of the 7th year she had just encountered. A seventh year she had never heard of and on no account has seen in the past.
Stepping out of the crowded Girls' Bathroom full of bothering faceless females, Hermione found herself clutching her heart as she inspected the empty second floor corridor she saw just a little while back. It had the same stoned walls, same concrete ground and same boulder flames aligned at the sides just like the environment she had left a few minutes earlier.
Apart from the strangeness she had met just before she got out of the Girls' Lavatory, everything was as normal as they possibly could be.
But where was Ron?
Thinking of what had taken place and what was still taking place; Hermione remembered that he had stepped out of Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom before she drank the potion. But that was minutes ago, wasn't it? Where could he have gone?
And then her heart skipped a notch as she realized the obvious.
The potion worked, she thought as she smiled widely. It worked and now, all she had to do was wait for Harry in the common room just like what they had discussed before and tell him all that she wanted to say.
But what was she going to do with the Hermione in this time?
Rrring!!
Hermione jumped back at the sudden sound.
The final bell had rung. It was a sign for the students that class was over and they were free for the rest of the week; it was also a hint for the teachers to give their concluding summaries of the day's lesson and dismiss their students; and, a warning for Hermione that she had no time left to think of a way to get her out of the circumstance she was facing.
Biting her lip, she decided to go on impulse.
Instead of going to the Gryffindor Tower just like where they had planned to meet, she would find Harry and take him somewhere else. And then, wherever they were, that is where she would tell him all her feelings.
But as she rapidly ran down the steps of the staircase, the real Hermione in the Gryffindor Tower kept on nagging her again. And as far as she was concerned, Hermione was aware of the fact that she just couldn't leave this one hanging and waiting for Harry to go up when she has left this time.
Surely after having heard all she has to say, he would ask queries about her confession. But what would Hermione (in this time) tell him when she has no recollection of Harry knowing her feelings?
Cursing aloud, she nearly smacked herself. Why hadn't she thought of that in the beginning? Now she had to stress herself of thinking of a way out of this mess. `Brilliant, Granger, just brilliant!'
Wanting to get everything done as soon as possible, Hermione shoved her way through the sudden horde of people fighting their way in every direction, presumably headed to wherever they spend their time during Friday afternoons and stay there for the rest of the day.
If she remembered correctly, the day she and Harry had that talk, no one was in the Gryffindor Common Room except for her, Harry and Ron.
Hermione wiped the sweat that had formulated on her forehead as she persistently turned her head in every angle, searching for Harry's face. As her gaze strayed over to the window gaps between the stoned walls, her eyes squinted shut as she was blinded by the sunlight that was passing through it.
Hermione was starting to run out of breath as she squeezed her way through the crowd. Feeling a little bit dizzy, she started to move toward a much larger space.
She couldn't remember this afternoon being this humid before. Actually, she couldn't think very clearly at all. There was something about her atmosphere that was distressing her and making her feel prickly.
She swallowed, moistening the sudden dryness in her throat. She breathed in and out, but she was suddenly suffocating. She was turning her head everywhere just to find a way out, but all she could see was people and more people. With her vision getting blurred, and all the students around her swirling in every direction, she finally fell back, in a seemingly slow motion, into something that enclosed her as she drifted off into nothingness.
It was something broad….
Firm…
Something human.
And something male…
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"Hermione!" Harry shouted again as he checked stalls after stalls after stalls. At the farthest corner where the unused toilet of Myrtle was located, he saw ladles, goblets, a black cauldron, and a book lying askew on the ground.
Where was she?
He stepped out of the cubicle and was surprised to find Ron staring at him with wide eyes. It didn't take him long to recover, though, and was soon asking…"Ron, where's Hermione?"
"I…uh…" The boy couldn't get anything out of his mouth, distress clearly in his voice as he approached the stall where Harry had entered a moment ago.
Harry advanced towards his awestricken friend as he couldn't help but do so and gripped his shoulders tightly. "Ron, where's Hermione?" He asked in a more demanding and immobile tactic.
Ron didn't answer. Instead, he detached himself from Harry's grip and went over the farthest stall. He bent over and began rummaging through the stuffs scattered on the floor, a look of disbelief and foreboding playing on his face. He opened the book and after letting his eyes scan the manuscript, he thought silently for a moment and then looked at his watch. All of a sudden, his eyes grew wide and his face went pale.
"What?" Harry asked in alarm. "What is it? Where's she?"
"I think she --- she may be lost in the corridors of time."
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Hermione stirred.
`Where am I?' she wondered for the second time that day.
She tried to open her eyes, but her lids felt heavy.
She inhaled in the scent of her surroundings and found herself familiar with the fragrance she had drawn in, but she couldn't place it at the moment. It smelled hygienic and sterile.
She tried to open her eyes again. And this time, she succeeded, but as soon as she had done it, she immediately shut them again as a wave of nausea struck her. She moaned in desperation.
Hearing a screech coming from a chair being pushed back, she stilled for a moment, someone had moved from her left side. And then she briefly remembered what happened that morning. Could she be in the Hospital Wing again?
She waited, and then she heard a muffled voice speaking to someone who answered in a high-pitched tone.
Then, slow footsteps approached where she lay.
"Are you feeling all right?" A woman asked.
"Just--" she began to say while blinking, but then she closed her eyes again; apparently her dizziness hadn't passed yet. "Lightheaded."
"Do you remember what happened to you?"
Hermione tried to consider, but all she could recall at the moment was she had decided to look for Harry after she had found out that the potion had worked. She was making her way through the mob of students in the hallway when she felt dizzy and had passed out.
"I fainted," she muttered vaguely.
"Do you happen to know the reason why you did?" The woman asked again.
Knowing she can't say she traveled through time, Hermione resorted to her last option. "N-no." she lied.
The nurse seemed convince and said. "Take this anti-nauseating medicine and you'll feel better after a few minutes."
Hermione tried to sit up, but couldn't, as she felt sore muscle everywhere. She was about to ask for assistance when someone took hold of her arms to steady her and help her sit up. Then, she felt a delicate hand of a woman's tip up her chin and press the edge of a goblet to her lips. Hermione sipped the medicine and choked as the bitter medication slid down her throat.
"Take it easy. Now, try to open your eyes again."
Hermione followed the instruction. This time, instead of closing them immediately, she had managed to keep them open and was finally granted the pleasure of seeing the woman's face and her surroundings. Though her vision was blurred and undefined, she was able to identify where she was. Because of the many vacant bunks beside her and the pallid color of the wall, she knew in an instant that she was in the Hospital Wing again.
But--the woman--
The woman in front of her wasn't recognizable at all. She wasn't Madame Pomfrey. But she somehow took an odd resemblance to the nurse.
"I can open them," she finally announced after her moment of speculation. "But I can't see clearly."
"Don't worry. That's only temporary. You will regain clearance in just a short while. I suggest you lie down first. I'll be back in a few minutes."
Hermione did again as she was told and as she tried to make herself comfortable, she was thinking about what will happen now that she was here and she hadn't been able to divert Harry into another place. Why, for all she knows, Harry was already having the conversation with Hermione right this very minute.
She sighed deeply as she grasped the fact that a predicament like this was extremely hard to consider. It wasn't until the nurse's voice penetrated through her mind that Hermione focused her attention again to what was taking place.
Expecting that the nurse was talking to her, Hermione listened quietly and intently to hear what she was saying and had a hard time covering her shock when she heard her pertaining her words to someone else seated beside her bed whom, she realized instantly, was the one who had been assisting her the whole time, "Could you watch her for a moment, Mr. Potter?"
`Mr. Potter?' She asked herself, disbelievingly. Is today just her lucky day or it was just plain coincidence that it was Harry whom had caught her fall and indirectly rescued her yet again? If it weren't for the dizziness she felt, she would have shaken her head in surprise as she couldn't believe her luck.
She turned to look at Harry and saw a distinct outline of him. Though it wasn't clear, she could tell it was really him because of the built and that unruly trademark of his (his hair).
When she breathed took a deep breath to weigh her next words, she felt a nauseating feeling erupt in her stomach, causing her to arch her back slightly. She choked and coughed. She gripped the sheets tightly as she felt something pounding her head.
"Is there anything wrong?" Harry asked with a voice that was deeper and colder than what she was accustomed to.
"I'm quite all right." She smiled weakly and though his tone was uncaring, Hermione still wanted to say thank you, unlike earlier that morning, and she did. "Thanks for bringing me here, Harry. I appreciate it."
"You think I had a choice? You practically fell on me." He said flatly, she was about to say something in her defense when he quickly added with a smirk.
"And for the record, my name's not Harry."
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