Twist Through Time

A/N:

Okay. Before you read this, I would like to say a few things:

1. Yes, I've posted this story here in portkey before. This would be the third time, in fact. I removed it the last two times because all I got were bad reviews, saying that they didn't like Harry's character here.

2. Now, the reason I'm putting it up again, is because I really want to publish all my stories online. So it wouldn't matter to me now whether or not people will flame this as long as I get to post it on the net.

3. Now, please do not judge this as a really sick story. Yes, it's true that in the beginning Harry and Ron may seem to be out of their characters. But that's me. That's the way I see my protagonists. If you haven't read my other two stories yet, I shall tell you that I am into that love-hate relationship cliche. It's a bit ironic that I would be doing this when Ron and Hermione shippers dwell in the fact that love-hate relationships are the best ones for romance. But that's the thing, I'm bringing it to Harry and Hermione. Maybe after I've finished with all my stories, I'm going to come up with best friend themes, but for now, please bear with this.

4. Oh and another thing. Harry IS capable of a foul temper and a sort of unreasonable characters. Aren't we all? So excuse his insensitivity. And of course, in Ron's case, he's allowed to mature, isn't he?

5. One thing that I take pride on is the heated conversations I let my characters have, especially when they're arguing. There's plenty of that here and a whole lot of mystery and twisted things, so for those who like a little bit of twist, this story should be all right for you.

6. The story is somewhat more of an adventure thing, so don't expect too much lovey-dovey scene. Hahaha…

7. I really don't know if this story has the potential to attract and maintain readers, but I'll have every chapter I have posted as soon as I can.

8. I wrote this when I was in 2^nd year high school. I was 14 then, and I'm 19 now. I don't think much has changed with my writing style, but I guess grammar's a good bet. Please bear in mind that during those days, I was still hung up on mushy lines and everything. I don't have the time to change them now, but I'll do some MINOR changes so as not to make you puke when you read them, or if you read them.

9. When I re-read this, I found myself wondering how I was able to write some of the scenes. I don't even remember coming up with those lines. But 4 years is a long time, so who knows?

I hope that this author's note is enough for you to keep reading.

Thank you.

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The Three Broomsticks was packed. Hands in her coat pockets, she scanned the busy place. Hermione had never seen the place so crowded with Hogwarts students before. The place was filled with lively chatter and laughter; clearly, the young witches and wizards were enjoying themselves.

Hugging herself to ward off the chills that were beginning to run up and down her spine, Hermione thought. 'My last Hogsmeade Weekend here.'

Shifting from one foot to the other, she silently recalled the important event that happened the day before. She still couldn't believe that she, along with Harry, Ron and their other batch mates, had gone through their final examinations for their last year at Hogwarts.

Hermione straightened as she saw Madam Rosemerta clear one of the tables. It was immediately occupied by another group of students as soon as she was done and after taking their orders, she hurried off to the counter. Hermione shook her head as the middle-aged woman wiped her perspiration; she must be having a hard time.

As an end of the year grant, the Headmaster allowed the 7th year students to visit Hogsmeade everyday for the next three weeks until The Commencement Feast, which was to be held the night before their graduation.

After a whole day of shopping and seeing sights, most of the students decided to stop by the Three Broomsticks instead of returning right away to the castle. Their time to return at school was not until seven thirty and it was only ten minutes after six. It seemed that all the seventh years decided to enjoy their remaining Hogsmeade days as students in the cozy place.

She shivered at the thought.

She would be graduating in 3 weeks and the only thing on her mind right now was how to tell Harry and Ron her plans for her life after Hogwarts. It hadn't been an easy decision, but she figured the Wizarding World wouldn't miss her all that much.

At such a young age of 17, she had become a graduate student; a feat rarely accomplished by anyone. Sure, she hadn't finished a course in some university, but it was all right. She wasn't born for universities, after all. She was meant for this world.

But she had been having second thoughts. It wasn't because of what she believed. Contrary to what she thought, she had always felt being a witch was her destiny. However, rational thinking made her consider that she may be wrong. And the only way she can find out what's right was to gamble everything she had just to see what fate really had in store for her.

Where she would go--she had no idea. All she had now was the thought that she couldn't live the rest of her life thinking what could have happened if she went the other way instead of taking the path everyone expected her to take.

But for now, she had to figure out how to tell Harry and Ron.

This thought suddenly led her to search the crowd again for her two best friends. 'Where are they?' She asked. With Harry's unruly mop of raven hair and Ron's fiery tress, they weren't hard to see.

"Hermione!"

She turned around and heaved a sigh of relief as she saw Ron a few feet away, moving through the crowd.

"What took you so long? I've been here for an hour." Hermione asked, crossing her arms and giving him an exasperated look.

Ron's lips curved into a smile. He was still pushing his way through the crowd and already she was lecturing him. When he finally made it to her, he sighed and put a hand at the back of his head and looked at her timidly. His hair was a fiery mess that seemingly coincided with his face that wasn't light either. "Sorry, I overslept."

Hermione rolled her eyes and instead of lecturing him, she asked instead. "Have you seen Harry?"

"You mean--he's not here yet? I thought…he'd be waiting with you when I arrive." He said slowly.

"Apparently, he isn't. Perhaps he's just late." Hermione turned her wrist to look at her watch.

"Perhaps he's not coming." He said. “He never does.”

Hermione threw him a glare and said sharply. "He'll be here. He promised, remember?"

"Yeah, I do. But I also remember the times he had backed out on his word. I know you've been hurt too many times to forget.” He regarded her with an impatient look. “Hermione, when are you going to stop this?"

"I can't answer that, Ron." Hermione said; her eyes distantly troubled. "I can't stop anything I didn't start."

He looked confused. "Maybe you should face the truth. He does not feel the same way."

"Please, Ron. For once, be supportive."

Ron chose not to reply to Hermione's statement and instead turned his attention behind her, just in time to see…

"Look! There's Harry--with Cho." Ron lowered his tone at the last minute as soon as he realized the obvious, hoping that Hermione wouldn't hear his interjection. Unfortunately, because of his usually loud self, she had heard him and was soon staring painfully at a familiar green-eyed teenager who was seated with a pretty girl at the far corner of the packed place.

Hermione suddenly felt humiliation and stupidity as she realized that Ron had been right into thinking that Harry had abandoned his promise--yet again--to spend time with his girlfriend. Don't get her wrong. All three of them knew when Harry began dating that things wouldn't be the same again.

But this was too much.

He had promised to spend the rest of the night with them and had purposefully told Hermione and Ron that he would be in Hogsmeade's famous pub, waiting. She choked back a bitter laugh as she thought that Harry at least kept a part of his word. As it turned out, he really was waiting in the Three Broomsticks, but instead of waiting for them, he was seated beside an unwanted excess--an unwanted, beautiful, black-haired, Quidditch-playing excess.

Ron instinctively knew how she felt as he looked at Hermione's expression. He patted her back to show sympathy. He didn't want this night to be ruined; but the look of annoyance on Hermione's face, as Harry began to cozy up with Cho was enough for him to take her away from the view and lead the way to another table.

"And what will you two have?" Madam Rosemerta appeared before them, quill and paper at hand.

"Two butterbeers, please." Ron said absentmindedly as he debated on whether to continue his appreciative gaze on Madam Rosmerta, or mind Hermione's downtrodden expression.

"Two butterbeers it is. I'll be right back." She said before disappearing through the throngs of people.

Hermione glanced around wearily. 'Why did I have to be so thick?' she asked her self, slouching her back more. She groaned a little as she saw Harry whisper to the lovely girl beside him as they talked about who-knows-what.

'Our last year.' she remembered.

It only seemed yesterday, Hermione thought, that she was boarding the Hogwarts Express for her first ride to Hogwarts, where she met a boy who tried to turn his pet rat yellow and a scrawny kid who sat beside him, very eager to see magic.

She would've never thought that after 6 years, she'd be one of these boys' best friends and she'd be hopelessly in love with the scrawny kid who now knew more power than countless wizards put together.

As she persistently watched the couple a few meters away from them…her mind wandered through her past and landed on the instant she had come to regret the most…

It happened almost a year ago…

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'I can't breath…yes, I can…no, I can't breathe. My God, I can't breathe…'

Hermione thought as she fanned herself with her hand while pacing back and forth in the common room, waiting for Harry. After glancing at the wall clock, she heaved a heavy sigh.

'What could he possibly want to talk about?' Hermione asked herself.

Harry met up with her earlier that day and told her to wait for him in the common room after her last class. His explanation was brief and could be summarized into one simple sentence: he had something important to tell her. This thought alone made Hermione more nervous than ever.

Excited for a good thing or just plain nervous, she didn't know. All she was sure of was her need for her nerves to be for something positive.

Her Arithmancy Class had ended 10 minutes earlier than usual and instead of making her way to the library like she always does every Friday afternoons, she instantly hastened to the Gryffindor Tower to see if she could have some time alone for herself before having this talk with her most loyal friend…

The one who accepted her as the bookworm and academic witch that she was…

And the guy she fell in love with…

The realization that she loved him wove into her mind easily as if loving Harry was what her heart had always known. There were no questions, no doubts or whatsoever about why. Though it took her a long time to realize it, she never had any fears the instant she knew.

And now, time was the only thing stopping her from telling him. She almost lost him once and would have regretted losing him if she had not been able to tell him how she felt about the relationship she wished were more than just friends.

Just before the previous year had ended, Harry and the rest of the Wizarding World were awakened into a war between good and evil. It was the scariest thing she had ever witnessed in her life. Flashes flying off everywhere, injured wizards and witches dispersed around the battlefield, people crying, destroyed homes and edifices...

It had been a long fight; no one wanted to give up the battle.

But after a slow and excruciating period, silence reigned between the two sides. Those who were too weak to continue had fled, leaving their master alone, only to find themselves facing the ministry's authorities a distance away.

And then it was just the two of them.

Harry and Voldemort.

Aware of the battle drawing nearer, Harry had readied himself for the realization of his nightmares.

The face off had promised to be a spectacular display of prowess since he had been trained profusely for that fateful day. But, however good Harry was, he assumed that he had no chance of winning against Voldemort who had so much competence in battle. But as soon as Voldemort hit a spell that he didn't knew would be his last, Harry did the most unexpected thing that even he could never fathom…

He absorbed the curse, not even knowing how in the world he had done such a thing, and threw out a more powerful one, combining it and the magic charm he was all the while conjuring. Voldemort was astounded at the unexpected upshot that he had no time to put up a counter attack, causing the curse to hit him directly. He perished on impact, ending the immorality he had done in both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds.

Harry, on the other hand, though he had won, lost consciousness for a month with no sign of movement or life.

During this lingering stage in her life, Hermione had never been more scared. She kept on thinking then that if Harry would never wake up, she would never get to tell him how she feels. That's the reason why she had decided to tell him that present day. Knowing that life was too precious to waste, she wouldn't take her chances with fate.

So, after a lot of agonizing and unending sacrifices, nothing could stop her from letting him know--that day.

If she can figure out how-- that is.

Looking at the clock again, Hermione exhaled impatiently. She had been waiting for almost half an hour, but still, Harry and Ron had not yet returned from Divination, which was supposed to have ended 10 minutes ago. Tired of pacing, she stopped and sat down on the couch in front of the fireplace. Her gaze dallied on the fire dancing in the hearth and the warm ambience that was radiating from it made her begin drifting off to sleep.

Half an hour later, a slight nudge on her shoulders woke her up.

"Mmm…" she mumbled, not wanting to be taken away from her peaceful rest.

"Hey, sleepyhead…" a baritone chuckled, his breath fanning her face.

Harry.

The sound of his voice and the feel of his breath dropped ice-cold water over her senses. She instantly bolted up to face him. He was wearing a grin while looking at her. Hermione stole a quick glance around and saw that she and Harry were only the occupants of the common room that afternoon.

Despite her faintness, Hermione's heart skipped abeat.

Now she can tell him in private.

She didn't want anyone else to know.

Not even Ron…

"Hey." Hermione said groggily, still having a hangover over her sleep.

Harry sat down beside her, but didn't say a word, and just began staring at the blazing fire. They both sat there, quiet, thinking deeply. The only sound breaking the silence was the low crackling of the burning flames in the fireplace.

After a while, Hermione spoke up with what she hoped was a nonchalant voice. "Didn't you want to talk to me about something?"

"Oh, yeah." Harry considered, looking directly into her eyes. "That."

Hermione nodded intently as Harry broke the connection.

Her heart was beating so fast she silently prayed that Harry would not hear it.

After a short while, he said…

"Just this morning, I had--" he began, "…asked Cho out."

Hermione blinked and dared not open them again or just until this nightmare was over.

'This can't be happening.' She thought. 'There must be some mistake. Maybe I heard wrong.'

But even as she continued to think of reasons how it could not be possible, Hermione knew that what she heard from Harry was true and she couldn't do anything about it at all. She hesitantly opened her eyes and smiled crookedly. "What's the big deal, Harry? You've asked Cho out so many times now, haven't you?" She asked, every word poisoning her mouth.

"Yes…" Harry said. "But it's quite different this time."

Hermione wanted to tell him that Cho wasn't right for him. But then, what excuse would she have? She couldn't say they were meant to be together. There's not enough evidence for that. Come to think of it, had there ever been any evidence at all?

"I asked her to be my…" He paused as if embarrassed to say anything else.

"Um-hmm …" Hermione said softly, trying hard not to avert her gaze no matter how much she wanted to run away.

Harry remained silent.

"Why did you want to talk to me about it?" She finally asked after taking deep silent breaths. "Are you asking permission?" She chuckled feebly wanting to show him that she thought it was one of the most absurd things she had ever heard of.

After hearing this, Harry visible relaxed. "Well, sort of. I just wanted you to know. You're my best friend and I care about your opinion."

'Yeah, your best friend.' Hermione thought bitterly. “What about Ron?”

“He already knows.”

“And?”

“He says it's brilliant.” Harry said with a small-smile.

"So what do you want me to say?"

"I dunno." Harry replied. "Something. Anything."

Hermione was quiet--the word 'anything', reverberating in her head. And from the depth of her frenzied mind, her inner self urged on.

'Now's the right time to tell him…'

Still, she didn't move.

'Ok…now would be the best time. Just spit it out!'

She opened her mouth to speak, but hesitated when she saw the look of ecstatic joy on Harry's face. Outside, she was calm and reposed. But inside, she was screaming and hurting. With the greatest amount of effort she had ever exerted in her life, she finally spoke.

"If that's what your heart tells you--then, no, I don't have any problem with that." She said, mentally berating herself.

But Harry didn't seem to notice anything different about Hermione's mood; on the contrary; he was so overjoyed to even see anything bizarre with her. Hermione quickly composed herself before Harry gave her a last appreciative look. He strode over to the portrait hole and disappeared behind it.

Right there and then, her heart shattered into pieces and she spoke as softly as she could to release some of the pain. "How could I be so stupid?"

Too busy feeling sorry for herself, Hermione didn't notice somebody walk up to her discreetly and had jumped in surprised as she heard someone say:

"Because you can't be perfect…"

She stood up and turned around quickly, her jaw dropping as she saw the person who had spoken.

"Ron."

He stepped closer.

"Did you…? Were you…?"

"It was difficult not to. You would think that you were in opposite poles with your voices that loud."

"How did--" Hermione seemed speechless.

"I arrived when you and Harry were talking."

Hermione blushed, slightly frustrated that Ron didn't even acknowledge his presence when he should have had and had almost heard one of the most private conversations that would have been remembered by her and Harry for the rest of her life had she decided to continue in telling him.

Ron proceeded to look at her without much of a word that she began to get annoyed and conscious after some time.

'How could he turn up at such a wrong time?!' Hermione asked herself as she felt a sudden lump in her throat, threatening to rise.

"I…I'm going to…er…" Hermione began to excuse herself when Ron planted his feet in front of her and to her surprise, drew her close into a hug.

"Stupidity just isn't you, Hermione. But you'll be more foolish if you don't let this one out." He pointed out.

When he said that, Hermione lost all hopes of hiding her feelings and broke down into tears.

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Hermione sighed. That day was something to remember, all right. It was the day she lost her chances to be with Harry, when she let stupidity get the better of her. But then again, it was also the day Ron became the friend he had been keeping inside for so long.

And now, a year had passed. A year full of pain and anguish. Regret and blame. It was because of this awareness that made Hermione reconsider her life in this world; more importantly, her life in Harry's world.

Even after staying beside him for 7 years, she still didn't know what her place in his heart was. Sure enough, he had never gone through a single day in the past without telling her how much he loved her and how glad he was that she was there. She had been satisfied with their simple bond for some time, but suddenly, it wasn't enough.

She found herself wanting more--wanting what has no limit, no boundary. But, unfortunately, her sanity had reached a limit once and it caused her the greatest pain she knew she will never experience again.

"Oi. Our drinks are here." Ron leaned over.

In surprise, Hermione rapidly looked up and banged her forehead against Ron's temporal.

"Ow!" they both exclaimed at the same time, stopping, and then rubbing the bruised parts of their head. Hermione looked smugly at Ron while massaging her forehead. Then, out of the blue, a harsh sound of laughter escaped his lips. His shoulders started to shake and then fits of laughter started spilling from his mouth.

Ron's hilarity emerged on top of the noise from the other students, creating a racket inside the Three Broomsticks. Hermione merely raised her brow at him, although her eyes showed a hint of amusement in them.

A few feet away, Harry and Cho looked up from their table as they heard the slight commotion made by Ron head lolling, as he tried to consume his laughter. Hermione, busy swallowing her own, didn't see Harry stand up and walk over to their table, with a surprise and irritated Cho following after him.

"Don't do that." she told Ron under her breath when they quieted down.

"What?" Ron said as he flashed at her his knowing grin. "You were too busy to notice me."

Hermione looked at him quickly and said something like "Busy doing what?"

"You see--I'll talk to you about it later--" Ron said seemingly distracted, then leaned closer again and whispered in a hushed but clear voice. "Do me a favor and try not to look too obvious."

"Why?" Hermione asked.

"They're headed this way." Ron said plainly, not bothering to say who 'they' were.

Hermione's heart started pumping wildly as she heard this. She couldn't see them together. Every time she does, she always ends up saying something bad about Harry's long time fantasy.

"Hey, Her--mione." Harry started, but as he saw the distant look in her eyes, he became unsure of how Hermione would take his presence. Before he could ask about it, Hermione answered it for him by standing up in a rush as if her seat was on fire.

"See you later, Ron." Hermione said, glancing at Harry airily, then smiling feebly at Cho with what's left of her pride and generosity. She patted his back before moving away from the table and fighting her way through the mad crowd.

"Is something the matter with her?" Harry asked casually as if he hasn't a clue on why as he took the place of Hermione.

"Go figure. She's a nightmare." Ron said heavily as he, too, stood up to leave.

"Ron! Where are you--?" Harry started to ask when Ron turned away from him.

"Later." He said bitterly, causing Harry to look disturbed.

Ron ignored it and met Cho's gaze and locked with it, but his eyes had already lost its bright sparkle.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Uh…s-sure?"

"Do you happen to know any other place where Hermione and I can go next time we come to Hogsmeade?" He asked in livid voice. Without letting her answer, Ron left. They watched him disappear among the pack, leaving Harry clueless on what just happened.

"Harry, I don't think Ron likes me at all." Cho concluded in a priggish voice.

"He's just not used to you, don't worry, he'll adjust soon." Harry murmured, ignoring the tone in Cho's voice, mistaking it for plain sadness and regret.

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Hermione's blood rushed through her brain in irritation as she trudged along down the street in Hogsmeade. From the moment she walked out of the pub, away from them, she had been trying to shut the memory of Harry with Cho. But, so far, she still hadn't succeeded. Because every time she even came close to accomplishing her goal, something always reminded her of them.

She didn't know what made her ignore Harry like that but she was sure that if she hadn't left, she would have done something she'd have regretted for a very long time and she couldn't afford to feel sorry for more things, lamenting for so many lately.

As her footsteps gradually slowed, Hermione felt the urge to cry there and there, to relieve her discomfort and run to her own bed, submerge herself in her own tears and stay there as soon as she has calmed down.

Everything she was seeing and had been seeing was already too much for her to bear. She had had enough! And for the first time since Harry and Cho had started dating, Hermione had never looked forward more to seeing Ron in a few hours. However, instead of heading towards the castle grounds, Hermione found her way walking around Hogsmeade ceaselessly even as rain started to pour.

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In the common room, a little while later, Ron was seated just in front of the fireplace, eating while waiting for Hermione to arrive. Placing his foot on top of his knee, he impatiently glanced at his wristwatch and frowned as he realized that she should have been there by now, being the first to leave the Three Broomsticks.

'Strange.' He thought.

After a few minutes, he finally saw Hermione clambering through the portrait hole and in his thrill to see her; he barely noticed her present state. "Been in the library again?" He declared good-naturedly, advancing towards her.

But Hermione didn't respond.

Confused, Ron stepped a bit closer and what he saw made him fume in worry. "Does it rain in the library now?" He asked, eyeing the wet clothes clinging to Hermione's body.

The girl only remained silent, not saying a word, her clothes stuck to her body and her hair was plastered all over the side of her face. And then…her lips began to tremble.

Ron grimaced as he saw this but didn't need ask anything, already aware of what was going on. "Hermione, I know you're not stupid, but you didn't have to walk around in the rain." Ron reprimanded her as they sat down on the couch.

She found comfort on Ron's shoulder as she rested her head on it and began to mumble incoherent words. Fortunately, not too many people were in the common room at that time so there wasn't any risk of being given false interpretations.

"I can't take it anymore, Ron." He heard Hermione finally whisper in a breathless but rational manner.

All jokes aside, he said. "Yes, you can, Hermione."

"No, I can't. Don't you understand? Every time I see them together, I get hurt so much because I know I had the chance before, but I blew it."

"No, you didn't." Ron proclaimed sternly. "You just wanted Harry to be happy. Don't blame yourself for wanting what's best for him. And I guess you know it already, but by the looks of it, he has never been happier.. "

"I know, Ron." Hermione said. "That's why it hurts." He heard her add under her breath.

Ron held her hand and gripped it hard to make sure she knows that he was sympathetic and didn't let go of it for quite some time.

A few minutes later, Harry walked in the Common Room heavily, wanting to talk to Hermione and Ron about the way they had acted around Cho. The girl was busy with her life outside Hogwarts and the last thing she needed was to be abandoned.

He swiftly glanced around the common room, expecting that one of them was in some corner, reading or goofing around, but he certainly wasn't expecting to see what he saw. Suddenly, Harry felt disheartened and angry for an unknown reason. And as usual, his pride got the best of him.

So instead of approaching them like what he intended to, he shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to walk nonchalantly to the stairs headed for the Boys' Dormitory as if he didn't see anything at all.

But it seemed like fate had something in store for him instead because just as he was about to take the flight of steps up the stairs, Ron looked up and saw him.

"Harry!" Ron shouted.

The boy turned around slowly and Ron was stunned to see Harry's eyes blaring with annoyance. And then, not much to his surprise, he ignored his call, turned around again and went up the steps.

Ron shook his head in edginess as he heard the door of their dormitory open and close with a slight bang.

He looked at the person beneath his arms and wondered what she was thinking. If she had been hurt by that, she was terribly good at hiding her depression because no sound came from her and her appearance hadn't changed either.

However, even though it seemed so, Harry's coldness made Hermione's insides twist.

What had she done to deserve this? All she had been was a good friend. She never wanted more than what he has been giving, did she? She let him have his happiness even if it had broken her heart.

If only she had done what she had convinced herself to do that day, then all these wouldn't be happening to her right now.

If only she could just change it--

"That's it!" She shouted unexpectedly, straightening up from her position.

As the Gryffindor students watched in surprise at her sudden outburst, Hermione grabbed Ron's arm and hauled him to the corner of the room, ignoring the eyes that were focused on them.

Fumbling to get out the words, not knowing which one she should go first, Hermione spoke quickly the first thing that came to her mind. "Ron, I need your help."

He merely rolled his eyes as he said, "And what do you think have I been doing, remember?"

Ignoring this, Hermione continued. "I know this is a crazy idea, but we can try." Then she began muttering to herself. "Of course I don't know if it's going to work or something--I need to do some reading first. But--ooh--this is going to be brilliant. Why didn't I think of it before. Stupidity, maybe. It's always because of stupidity."

"Excuse me--in case you forgot, I'm still here and I don't know a thing about what you're mumbling about." Ron asked. "What's this about a crazy idea? If that involves getting spiders to kill Harry, consider me out."

"Rubbish." She said waving him off. "We just need to get this book in the library."

"A book?" Ron asked, obviously relaxing.

"Yes, a book." She whispered quietly.

He scratched his head, confused. "What do you need my help for? Just check it out."

"I can't," Her answer was simple yet so clear that Ron groaned, knowing well what she was about to say. "It's in the Restricted Section."

"Why am I not surprised?" Ron said with incredulity.

She looked at him with annoyance. "Just do what you have to do to borrow Harry's cloak! When you get it, meet me in the Common Room at midnight, and then we'll slip out and go to the library." Hermione said excitedly in hushed whispers as she paced back and fort, already planning the night's exploit.

"Would you pause and think about this? How would I be able to borrow something from a guy who most likely wants to rip both our heads off?" Ron asked.

Hermione smiled wryly at him. "You'll figure something out. Oh, come on, Ron. Please--"

Even as she gave him her best pleading look, Ron wasn't too sure about this. Breaking more rules wasn't something they should do weeks before graduation. It would cause Hermione terribly as she was to be honored as the top in their class.

As for him, it wouldn't matter that much. He'd just be there to accept his diploma and be glad school's over. But if they would be caught, Hermione's position would be gotten. He couldn't bear to see something she really wanted taken away from her again. More importantly, she wouldn't have the strength to bear it. But, just as he was about to say 'no', he was reminded of Hermione's plea earlier that evening.

'For once, be supportive.'

This simple reminder caused him to think again and with reluctance, he finally agreed. "All, right." He nodded gravely, knowing that sooner or later, something bad was bound to happen. “Bloody hell.” He added as an after comment.

"Brilliant!" Squealed Hermione, hugging him tightly.

The boy smiled a little; glad he had made that decision, as he saw Hermione smiling her first genuine smile in a long time. And then he remembered, "What do you need the book for anyway?"

Hermione grinned sheepishly, before leaning over and saying, "To travel back in time."

"What?!" Ron yelled out in shock. "Hermione, you're mental!"

Hermione grinned. "I might be a little bit--" Then she added quickly seeing the look of disapproval on his face, "Oh, get over it, will you? Everything would be safe as long as the instructions are followed. Besides, have I ever made a mistake with potions before?"

"No, you haven't." Ron agreed, half-heartedly.

She beamed at him. "I'm going to go in the Girls' dormitory and try to look for a reference material about this book. You go borrow the cloak from Harry; I'll meet you here later." With these final reminder, Hermione dashed up the stairs to the Girls' Dormitory, leaving Ron with his own, profound thoughts.

'What would she think of next?'

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A/N:

I wouldn't really ask what you think. I've had some really bad reviews before that I really don't care for more. But if you have some CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM to make, why not? I can tolerate them and maybe even use them to come up with a better version so I could change the next chapters. Hehehe….

Anyway, thank you for reading. I hope I didn't sound too defensive in the author's note at the beginning and if you didn't like this chapter, perhaps the next? Tomorrow, I'll be posting it.

Till then.

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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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A/N:

So far so good. No bad comments yet. Anyway, the last time I posted this story, I only got as far as updating the second chapter. I'll be posting a chapter every day, so watch out for that. Maybe even two chapters per day, who knows….I'll see first how this chapter would fare.

Thanks for reading.

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Ron was still pondering on Hermione's sudden plan when he stepped inside the boys' dormitory. As he closed the door behind him, he couldn't help but think that some time, somewhere in this plan of hers, something was going to go wrong and he shouldn't have agreed to it. But there was something about the way Hermione had asked him that had him agreeing to her request for assistance.

His thinking was cut short, however, the moment he glanced up and spied Harry on his bed.

As he contemplated on an excuse, and a good one at that, to give him, Ron slowly made his way across the room, passing by Seamus and Dean, who were playing chess, and Neville who was sleeping loudly, his mouth hanging open with snores coming out.

Hands in his pocket, he reached Harry's four-poster bed, and gazed at the boy who was lying straight on his back, with his hands under his head and his stretched feet crossed over the other.

Harry glanced at him unenthusiastically, acknowledging his presence, but shifted his gaze back to what he was staring at a moment ago as if Ron's sudden appearance was not important.

Ron disregarded this and went over to sit just across his friend and leaned over, displaying mystery. “Mate, I need to borrow your cloak.” He waited until Harry looked up him before continuing. “There's something I have to do and I can only do it tonight. I might get caught without it and get detention. I really don't think they can but--”

“Just take it,” Harry muttered before Ron could finish and turned to his side, away from his perplexed friend.

Despite knowing why Harry was behaving this way, Ron still looked at him in displeasure as he stood up, walked over to the end of the bed and opened his trunk to get the cloak.

When he had it in his hands, though, he suddenly felt Harry's blazing stare piercing a hole through his back. Grasping what would be coming next and not in the mood for an unnecessary, heated argument, Ron bolted up and tried to walk away as fast as possible.

Yet, something else was in store for him, he decided hesitantly, as he had no choice but stay when Harry spoke, already getting on his feet.

“I expect that to be returned to me in one piece, Ron. I don't want you ruining my day another time.”

Ron stopped, turned about and frowned, unsure if Harry was pertaining to what he saw awhile ago or the one that happened in The Three Broomsticks. It could be the latter. Yet, somehow, Ron knew it also had something to do with the scene in the common room, although he couldn't find any reason for Harry to get mad at that.

Hesitant on what to reply, he settled for a broader answer instead. “About that, Harry--I was only concerned for Hermione and I couldn't do anything else. It was hard not to, she has been so vulnerable and weak lately.”

Ron couldn't have been more at loss when he saw that his explanation made Harry even fume more madly.

“Vulnerable, is she?” he spat out venomously. “I barely noticed. But then, how could I, considering the fact that I was busy noticing you two getting along really well. In fact, that's just on top of the things I have noticed. It's also extremely clear to me that that you can't wait to get your hands on her!”

Ron stared at Harry, stunned at what he heard. “Where did that come from?” he asked as he backed away slightly, uncertain of what he might do if Harry was within his arms' reach.

But the boy only shrugged as he slowly closed the distance between him and Ron, obviously provoking him to do exactly what he knew Ron wanted to do. “Since you were hardly off each others' backs today, I figured you'd be planning to have a more private time later. You know, with that something you have to do tonight.”

Ron took in a deep breath, all the while eyeing Harry murderously. Around them, all action seemed to have altered: Neville's snores suddenly became silent breaths and Dean and Seamus' game was put to a stop as they realized what was taking place.

“Am I right, Ron?” Harry's voice reverberated across the silent room.

“What are you talking about?” Ron asked, his fists closing in on his sides.

“What's the matter? Can't put two and two together? Want me to call your dearest Hermione to explain it to you?” Harry met him head-on.

“What in Merlin's name is wrong with you?!” Ron asked, finally losing his patience, hitting Harry's shoulders with his hands. Harry didn't answer as he staggered backwards.

Ron inhaled deeply and tried to regain his restraint. “Why are you suddenly insulting Hermione with all these nonsense? Don't be dense--she's our best friend! And I don't even want to know why you're so bothered by your belief that I'm going out with her because I know I'll hate your answer,” Ron said.

“What made you think I care whether you're really going out or not?” he asked, his voice bitter, his eyes flashing with anger. “It's not like I can do anything about it, can I?” he added sullenly, but his tone had broken. It didn't take Ron a few seconds to register what he had said.

“What are you talking about?”

“I don't know. Just--” he took a deep breath. “You know what, forget it. You wouldn't understand even if I tell you.”

“Whatever, mate,” Ron said, looking at Harry with a disappointed expression. “But you can't expect me to just `forget' what you said. Hermione deserves a lot more from you and you know that. If you only think of her as someone who throws herself to any guy who comes along, then I don't know if you're worthy enough to be her friend.”

With these taunting words, Ron left the room, cloak in his shaking hand.

Silence filled the dormitory as soon as the thud of the door was heard by everyone inside. No one wanted to speak, even about something that has nothing to do with what just happened, in fear of further annoying Harry.

But the boy had something too confusing on his mind that he failed to notice the change in the atmosphere. He almost laughed out loud, if not for his and Ron's argument, when he saw the expression on everybody else's faces. He knew they had been staring the entire time, and it was comical the way they all looked away as if scared of him.

He stretched out on his bed as he let out a sigh of aggravation. “Maybe I was little harsh…” he muttered as he began to examine the intricate details of the carved wood on the ceiling.

“I beg your pardon?” Seamus glanced back up at him. “Do you even have an idea on what you're saying?”

“Uh-huh,” Harry mumbled; distracted a bit as he continued to look at the ceiling, which was starting to become fascinating to him by the minute. “But, you know, it wasn't entirely my fault. If you saw them, you'd probably think the same thing.”

“I wouldn't,” Neville, who up until now had remained quiet, sat up and said.

Harry looked at him with questioning eyes, but his mind was still distracted a bit.

“I saw them, too, and as far as I can recall, it wasn't anything to get suspicious at. They were just laughing and having a good time,” Neville explained.

“You've got to apologize, Harry,” Dean pointed out, throwing him a pillow, hitting him squarely on the face.

“Was that really necessary?!” Harry asked, annoyed.

“You weren't listening,” Dean shrugged.

“Admit that you were wrong before it's too late, Harry,” Neville chimed in, before standing up and then walking out of the room.

“Ron's furious,” Harry muttered.

“And he has every right to be. You betrayed his trust when you said those things about Hermione,” Dean threw him a disappointed look. “I don't get it, Harry. How could you say something like that about her?”

“I don't know,” he shrugged. “I guess I just don't like it when other people get close to her.”

Seamus gaped at him as if he had grown too many heads. “Ron had the right. He's also her best friend.”

“I just--I just lost my temper and I wanted to be angry.”

“With whom?” he asked. “With him or yourself?”

“Why would I want to be mad at myself?” Harry asked, incredulous.

“Oh, I don't know,” Seamus said sardonically. “Because you couldn't be there when Hermione needed you? Because you haven't been by her side lately--or maybe because you're just jealous that somebody may already have taken your place. Take your pick.”

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A few hours had already passed since their argument but Ron was still in awe of his debate with Harry. The moment he got out of the dormitory, he headed straight for the common room to tell Hermione what happened. But she wasn't there when he arrived and it had been a good thing, he realized soon after, because he didn't know how she would react to the news. She would have gotten hurt, which wouldn't have been a surprise, but who knows what other things she might have done.

He couldn't focus on anything else since then and though he really wanted to close his eyes and sleep, he couldn't, as he was still trying to uncover the truth to Harry's sudden grudge against him and Hermione. It wasn't like him to let go of such words and the truth of his real feelings had been clearly written on his face.

The look of regret he had been wearing during the latter part of their argument, which Ron was sure he didn't know he had on, was enough for him to let things be and slightly understand Harry. But when he had decided to let Harry have it his way for the time being, Ron couldn't find it in himself to get rid of the confusion.

What he found the most puzzling was the reason Harry had been that furious to slander Hermione's reputation. Was it the scene in Hogsmeade or the incident he had walked on earlier that evening? It was slightly reasonable if it was the former one. But, what if his anger had something to do with Hermione? Was he jealous of them? If so, then why?

“You look tired,” Hermione suddenly appeared behind him as he sat on the lounge, making him jerk in surprise. “And jittery--what's up?”

“Nothing,” Ron muttered, stifling a yawn and stretching out. “I was just startled.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “You're hiding something from me, aren't you?”

“No, I'm not,” Ron replied almost too quickly, earning a frown from her. Scratching the back of his head, he decided to be defensive. “Come on, Hermione. It's midnight! What do you expect from me? A cheer dance?”

“Never mind,” Hermione shrugged it off and stomped off, knowing full well that Ron was indeed keeping something from her.

Ron followed her, with the Invisibility Cloak tucked in his arm. As soon as they were out of the tower, Ron put the cloak on himself and Hermione, who had somehow decided to give him the silent treatment.

They walked hurriedly, but silently, up the stairs to the library's floor. They were careful not to be so noisy, but it was too quiet and Ron was getting quite annoyed that his palms began to get itchy and his tongue threatened to go against his wishes. After a few more halls of nothing but footsteps ringing in his ears, Ron opened his mouth and said the very first thing that came into his mind.

“This--this book. What does it look like?” he attempted a conversation far from the subject she wanted to discuss, but it seemed that Hermione wouldn't take any of it.

“Have you noticed how Ginny's been acting lately? She's kind of getting mysterious, hasn't she?”

When Ron still couldn't pry anything out of her, he hung his head in defeat. “Fine, you win.”

This time, Hermione inclined her head in his direction.

“Harry and I had a--talk--earlier, when I went up to get his cloak.”

This more than caught Hermione's attention, it disrupted her sense of balance that she missed a step and landed a foot on his left. “What did he say?”

“Apology accepted,” Ron said sarcastically.

“Don't start, Ronald.”

`Uh, oh--the full name,' Ron thought comically. `Better not risk it.'

“Well?” Hermione goaded.

“He thinks we're dating and sleeping together.”

“What?” Hermione hissed and missed another pace, stepping on Ron's foot once more.

“Shh,” Ron placed a finger to his lips, all the while giving her his I-told-you-so look.

But Hermione was beyond careful now.

Her blood boiled in rage as her mind registered what he had said. Ron watched her fume and silently breathed a sigh of relief as he congratulated himself for not telling the exact words Harry used.

“That's the lowest, unimaginative nonsense I've ever heard,” he heard her say quietly, almost only a whisper.

Ron glanced at her for a second, slightly surprised that her tone was actually calm. But he didn't know whether he was to be relieved to hear she only spoke that way, or be alarmed that something else, something catastrophic, might be coming.

“Well, I did correct him after that,” Ron supplied helpfully in hopes of cooling her down.

“And I'm sure that he didn't really pay attention to you,” she replied gloomily.

“No, actually, he did,” he seemed thoughtful, surprising him as well over his sudden insight. “Or at least I thought he did. But so what, at least he looked like he saw sense.”

“But there's no difference at all since there's nothing you or I can do if he thinks of me that way, is there?” Hermione asked.

Before Ron could disagree, they reached the library entrance and the thoughts of the argument disappeared in Hermione's fretful mind as they found their way in discreetly.

Many bookshelves and desks Hermione and Ron passed through to find their way towards the Restricted Section. The entry to the bars isolating the other sections of the library from the Restricted Section creaked as they unbolted it with the Alohamora spell.

They sifted through the hundreds of books, looking for the one they needed, and after some time, Hermione saw the hard leather bound book that she was looking for. She took it, wiped away the dust covering it and flipped through the pages until she saw the one with the potion she needed. Its ingredients and instructions were written just below the image of the final product.

“Ron, this is the potion,” she hissed at him.

He stepped closer and looked at the words on the page and found it difficult to understand the ingredients. The page was torn, color brown and had a funny smell. It was completely aged and seemed like it hadn't been used for quite some time.

And as Hermione read the potion items, eight all in all, she grimaced in anticipated exhaustion, realizing that these ingredients were scattered all over Hogwarts. Although a couple of them were with her already, she'd still have difficulty finding the other six.

She shook her head and took a deep breath as she shut the book.

So what?

She wasn't going to give up on this plan.

As soon as Ron and Hermione closed the portrait hole of the Gryffindor Tower, they breathed twin sighs of relief. With no more than a few sidetracks of Mrs. Norris' unwanted patrolling, they had managed to get back to the common room alive and well.

Not able to stop herself, Hermione tenderly clutched the book to her chest.

Until now, she couldn't believe the answer to her problems was just right here, held within her arms…

`This is the key to get another chance with Harry,' she thought triumphantly.

But the moment they walked deeper into the Common Room, the sight that greeted them made Hermione's hope drain from her senses as well as the blood from her face.

“Had fun?” Harry muttered.

He was sitting on the couch, heel propped on his knees, an unreadable expression on his face. Apparently, he had been waiting for them.

“What are you doing here?” Hermione blurted out; instantly hiding the book she was holding.

“Waiting - seeing - confirming.”

It didn't take Hermione to realize what he was talking about and immediately got defensive. “We're not sleeping together. We're not even dating.”

“I see he told you about our little talk a while ago,” Harry sneered with pure malice. “I'm not surprised. It seems to me that he tells you everything, no matter how personal it is.”

Harry stepped closer, stopping just three feet away from them. He crossed his arms and gave Hermione a burning stare. She flinched. “So--not dating,” he mused, his eyes looking hurt and bewildered. “Tell me first what happened tonight, and then we decide whether what you're saying is true or just another pathetic excuse for me to leave you alone.”

“Nothing happened tonight!” Hermione hissed.

“Nothing?” he smirked weakly. “Why do I find that hard to believe?”

“Because you're too busy being a malicious dimwit to see there's nothing wrong with something innocent.”

“Innocent?” he said and threw back his head in silent laughter, as if just having heard something funny. “You almost had me there, Hermione.”

“What? Why won't you believe me?” Hermione asked him quietly.

“I dunno. The time, the place? But let's not talk about that. I'm sure you can relieve your memories where I'm not concerned some other time. For now, I want to know why you're lying to me.”

“Haven't you been listening?” Ron interjected. “We are not lying to you. We haven't been going out.”

“Who asked you?” Harry said smugly.

“I'm letting myself in this conversation whether you like it or not. I may not be her boyfriend, but I'm still her best friend and it's not only her that your issue is concerned with. I'm also involved in your sick hallucination, in case you have forgotten.”

“Suit yourself,” Harry said but turned right away to Hermione. “You haven't answered my question yet; why did you lie about this?”

“You're unbelievable, Harry! Just unbelievable!” she shook her head in incredulity. “I told you the truth, but you keep on insisting that I'm lying. What else should I do? Beg?”

“Try explaining,” Harry suggested blandly. “What did you do?”

This caused Hermione to stop and flash Ron a troubled look. “I c-can't tell you.”

“You can't or you won't? See. That's just what I'm talking about, Hermione. How can I believe you when you can't even give me a reason to?”

“I can't.” She spoke in a soft voice, her eyes forming tears she didn't want to fall, her voice breaking into a tone she didn't want him to hear. “And it's not my problem if you don't want to believe me because you are one hardheaded person! If you don't want to accept what I'm giving you, I can't do anything about it. I can't because I won't and because I'm choosing not to. But if there's ever a reason for me to offer, it's the reason why you should trust me.”

“Why should I trust you, then?”

Hermione looked up at this and what Harry saw made him turn pale. “Because I'm your friend? Whatever happened to that unspoken cause, Harry?”

But instead of letting it go at that, Harry went out of control. “It just went down the drain along with everything that we had.”

Hermione recoiled, looking terribly hurt.

“You've gone too far, Harry,” Ron intervened again.

“Stay out of this, Ron.” Harry said coldly, not affected by what he said to Hermione. “It's only my business with her.”

“If you only knew--” Ron started to say, but Harry wasn't up to letting him finish.

“That's the problem,” He crossed his arms. “I - don't - know.”

Ron opened his mouth but Hermione spoke up in a tone that surprised both him and Harry. “It's all right, Ron. I've just realized that nothing had really gone down that drain. At least not anything important.”

“What are you talking about?”

“This friendship has long been over,” she matched Harry's burning stare. “We just didn't see it until now.”

“What?” It was Harry's turn to have a voice break.

“I can't stand your promises anymore, Harry. I'd been sick of them for a long time but I didn't stop believing that you'd keep at least one of them. I didn't need a reason to go on hoping. Our friendship had been enough for me to have faith in you. But I guess my waiting has come to an end. And it ends right here, right now.”

“You can't just throw away seven years of friendship,” he claimed arrogantly.

“Six years, Harry,” Hermione corrected. “And why not? You threw it away the moment you began going out with Cho.”

“You make it sound as if she's the cause of what is happening right now,” Harry said defensively, and then his eyes narrowed into slits. “This is what it's all about, isn't it? My going out with Cho.”

“Don't be so stuck up on yourself,” Hermione suggested blandly, growing weary of their dispute. Her energy had run out and she felt as if her knees would suddenly give in.

“Am I?”

Hermione ignored this, desperately wanting to end the conversation. She furiously wiped away the tears that were falling on her cheeks. “I have every reason right now to hex you, to give you the beating you deserve. But I don't have the heart to do it. Because if I did, I would be proving to you and to myself that I'm really not the good friend I thought I was. Because even as friends make mistakes, they understand. They forgive and forget.”

She shoved him out of the way, stopping just beside him. “But you know what? Right now, I'm not your friend. And right now, Harry, I can't forgive nor can I forget.”

With that being said, Hermione finally made her way up the Girls' Dormitory while

Harry watched her retreating back with mixed emotions.

He had waited until midnight to talk and apologize but was told she wasn't in their dormitory by Lavender who was more than kind enough to have told him to shut up after pounding on their door a few times.

Having no other choice, he had sat for a few minutes on the couch in the common room and right after he was settled on it did he recall what Ron said earlier that evening. The moment he got himself to calm down, he realized what he had assumed was far from untrue because the proof was right there in front of him. He was about to call it a night and let it go at that when he had heard the portrait swing open and sensed sighs coming from that direction.

And that was when it had all begun.

He had no intention of finding out what he had and losing their friendship like he had tonight, but it had happened. And here he was now, staring at where Hermione had been a moment ago with another infuriated friend, breathing hard right next to him.

“Haven't you caused her enough pain, Harry? Decided she needed a little more damage?” Ron asked him.

“I had no idea she was hurt.”

“That's your problem. You haven't been paying attention. All your senses have been focused on Cho and you forgot that she still exists, I still exist. And what were you doing here anyway? You didn't have enough trust to leave us alone, did you?” he asked.

“All I wanted was to apologize and see if everything could go back to how it was.” Harry admitted.

“Yes, well, you did a good job doing just the opposite,” Ron mocked heatedly. “I can't understand you, Harry. Why couldn't you just have done what you had been intending to do? At least, it would have gotten you what you wanted.”

“I don't know,” he muttered with profundity. “It just came out and I'm sorry.”

“Don't apologize to me,” Ron muttered. “I'm not sure if I can forgive you now. You're different and you need to see it. You may not have changed the Harry we know, but you've covered him with someone he's not. Lose it, Harry, or lose her forever.”

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A/N:

Another update….hahaha…I hope this one's better. I've edited a few lines. But the essence of the 15 year-old me is still here.

I hope I haven't scared you away just yet.

Please tell me what you think.

Thanks!

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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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Okay.

Now here's the chapter which I haven't put up here before. And I'm guessing that nobody has read this.

Personally, I liked this chapter because of the conversation. But I'm not really saying all of you are going to like it.

Anyways, thanks for all those who reviewed. And, just a reminder, I wrote this when I was 15 years old. I'm 19 now. So I could say that I've improved a lot with my writing. This story is being put up just for fun…so don't flame me or anything, ayt?

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Hermione tossed and turned on her bed late that night. What had happened earlier that evening made sleep impossible for her. Every time she came close to slipping into a deep a slumber, the look on Harry's face after hearing her last words kept on materializing in her mind.

Until now, she couldn't trust herself for what she had done. She had been mad, yes, but she didn't intend for what she had said to come out; she didn't even know where those words came from. All she knew was the reason she had said them. But despite that, she couldn't believe she had declared the end of their friendship.

But then, what had gotten to her in the end wasn't pride or hurt, but the need for revenge.

She loved Harry, but her days of covering up her pain with smiles and laughter were over. All the evading and running she had been doing to prevent their friendship from ruin had now come down to a point where what they had suddenly lost meaning.

Still, Harry was her best friend. And he was right. She just couldn't put so many years behind them as if they had shared nothing at all. But could she forgive him after all the accusations he had thrown at her? Sure, they had exchanged bitter words and she was still mad at his insensitivity, but her anger couldn't go on forever. No matter what she said, his friendship meant everything to her and losing it would be ten times painful than not having her love reciprocated.

And just like that, she made up her mind.

The next day, she would tell Ron they weren't pushing through with the plan anymore. After what happened, going back wasn't anymore an option for her. She would just accept that life as Harry's best friend was the one she should and would always be living. If their misunderstanding was a sign of their what-would-be relationship, then she'd just take whatever they have now than risk further losing it to something not even close to a memory.

Hermione woke up the next day feeling very tired, but positively energetic. She stood up, stretched a bit, went to the bathroom and dressed herself up for another day. Knowing her mind was clear and her future, though still hard for her to accept, was meant for her to have, she felt hopeful.

With the sun shining brightly and the sky portraying the bluest shade she has ever seen, she felt almost peaceful. She couldn't help but notice how a fine Saturday morning it was! And smiling had suddenly become inevitable for her even as she made her way out of the room.

She was about to take the stairs when Harry appeared from the Boys' Dormitory. He was rubbing his eyes sleepily, looking as if he didn't get a good night's rest either. Her smile faded completely as he saw her.

Though she was certain she was not that angry any longer, his hurtful words still upset her and she wouldn't let him off that easily. She would have to talk to him eventually, but not now when her wound was still fresh and without relief. For the time being, she was intent on treating him the way he had been regarding her of late. With a great amount of effort, Hermione looked away and proceeded downstairs.

With a miserable and puzzled look, Harry watched her as she disappeared behind the portrait hole. `She seemed happy…' He considered with depression. `Was she glad we fought?'

As he walked towards the Great Hall, he remembered what happened the night before. He didn't mean to lose his temper the moment he saw them together. It was just seeing them together at a late hour confirmed to him Ron and Hermione were dating. Although he knew he wasn't entitled to prevent her from being romantically involved with someone, he was terribly hurt they were hiding their relationship from him.

As he entered the Great Hall with that thought, the first sight that caught his attention was Hermione walking over to where Ron was seated. He continued to watch as she bent down to whisper something in his ear and without his usual protests; Ron nodded, stood up and walked away from the table, following Hermione closely.

Harry stared in wonder as to what on earth she could have said to make Ron give up his meal. His question was put to a stop, however, when he realized his friends were approaching the entrance, close to where he was standing.

He stepped out of the way as they came close and kept an eye on them, expecting either one to glance at him like Hermione did earlier in the tower. But they walked by him as if they didn't see he was there.

It wasn't possible, he thought with agitation. He wasn't small and definitely not invisible. Surely they had seen him. The fact was--they were ignoring him.

And this notion suddenly had Harry sprinting after them. He caught up just before they could turn around the corner and grabbed Hermione by the elbow.

She was glaring at him even before she could turn around to confirm who he really was.

“What do you want, Harry?” Ron asked warily before she could.

“I just want to apologize,” he said uncertainly, looking at her instead of him.

“I can't see why you'd want to,” Hermione avoided his eyes.

“What are you talking about, Hermione? I'm your friend, of course I'd want to apologize after what happened last night.”

Something about what he said apparently got on her nerves because the moment he heard the tone in her voice, he just found himself staring back. “Have you forgotten already, Harry?” She asked him with a sharp voice. Wincing, she told herself, `I can't believe I'm going through with this!'

“I don't…”

“Didn't I tell you last night our friendship's over?”

“You weren't serious, are you?” Harry stared at her, stunned. “Look. What I said, forget about it, all right? I didn't mean any of it. And I'm sorry.”

“I know you, Harry. You don't just say things if you don't mean them,” Hermione whispered achingly. “I was disappointed with you last night, do you know? I mean, it's not as if you haven't put me down before, but what you said finally made me realize how wrong I was to think you know me well enough, because you don't. After what happened, I'm just grateful I found out before it was too late.”

She turned to walk away when Harry held her hand to stop her again.

“Let me go,” Hermione's voice was cold but he ignored it.

“No,” he shook his head. His eyes found hers. “Hermione, I know I can't take back the pain I caused, but I can take back what I said.”

“Let me go,” she said once more, trying to take her hand back.

“Just--just hear me out,” he held her hand firmly, but she continued to pull away. “I was confused and angry of what you said about me ignoring you because I didn't want to admit it was true. And I still can't accept it. But--but if that's what it would take for you to forgive me, then I'll agree I had been neglecting you.”

“I'm not asking you to admit anything,” Hermione said. “I just want you to know I'm not mad at you for nothing. I don't want you to think I'm just seeking attention.”

“If I give you my attention, Hermione, it's because you deserve it. You don't need to do something for me to see you. I'll always be around when you need me; you know that, don't you?” he asked her, his handclasp tightening.

“What I do know right now is I can't look at you without thinking of what went on last night. You may say you didn't mean what you said, but I heard your words, Harry, and they came from you. No matter how hard you try to show me you don't think of me that way, there had been a point in time when you did,” Hermione said. Then, with her free hand, she wiped away the tears that had been flowing down her cheeks and spoke quietly, silently imploring him. “Now, please, leave me alone.”

“I--” he wasn't able to finish what he wanted to say because she had already turned around and walked away. But Ron was still standing next to where he was and Harry chose to relay his message through him.

“I didn't mean what I said, Ron. Tell her that. And since I can't seem to get it out of her mind that I think of her as--as that way, maybe she'd at least accept that I feel really bad about it.”

“Don't you get it? She's not mad just because of what you said. She's angry because you don't want to admit that all you ever did for the past year was kept her informed on how Cho looked, how she laughed, how she held your hand…” he raked a hand through his hair. “You had been blind, Harry. And Hermione--she tried to open your eyes for the first time last night. But what did you do? You still kept them closed. And now, you're here, trying to patch things up with a simple sorry. Well, you have to do something better than that, don't you think?”

“What else can I do? Every time I get near her, she acts as if I'm not there. But if she does talk to me, it's as if I'm conversing with a frosty wall. I can't see what I had done wrong. Cho's my girlfriend and it's only right I pay attention to her.”

“How long have you been going out with her, Harry? How long?”

“A year.”

“A year.” He repeated blandly. “And how long have you known us?”

“What's your point, Ron?”

“You know your numbers, why don't you practice on weighing them? Maybe you'll see what Hermione's been trying to tell you for the past few months.”

“Ron--”

“I'll see you around.”

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“Are you all right?” Ron asked when he finally managed to catch up to Hermione.

“I'll be fine,” she muttered looking down at her shaking hand.

When she didn't say anything else, “You told me you wanted to talk to me about something,” he reminded as he held the entrance doors open so she could step out before him.

Hermione was silent for a moment. Then she looked up at him. “I--”

Could she do it? Could she give up something powerful just within her reach? It would be wrong to go through with it. Yes, it would. But she wanted it so much, more now than she did last night.

But with an entirely different reason.

If last night, she wanted to go back for love--now, she wanted to go back for friendship.

To think it would just be easy for things to go back to normal. She'll just have to accept Harry's apology and everything would go back to the way they were. But, the damage has been done and she wouldn't be able to go through another day, thinking that their relationship nearly ended because of a misunderstanding. What she wanted was to change everything that has happened by destroying the roots of it.

And that was the day when Harry asked Cho out.

She wasn't sure if changing it would also change what they had experienced but she was willing to take the risk. Especially now that more than her own heart is at stake, she was willing to do whatever it takes.

With a deep breath, she finally said. “I wanted to tell you to be ready for our plan.”

“Is that all?” Ron asked her.

“Yes. Why?”

“I let you drag me from my meal because I reckoned you had something really important to tell me.”

“Isn't this important?” Hermione asked, frowning.

“Course it is,” Ron shrugged. “But I figured you'd let me finish eating first if what you had to tell me turned out to be as simple as the one you said.”

“You'll never change, will you?” Hermione asked, laughing in spite herself.

“No.” Ron shook his head, and then draped his arm on her shoulders in a brotherly gesture. “But you like me the way I am in any case, so why bother?”

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A/N:

Be back tomorrow with another chappie…=)

-->

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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A/N:

As promised, here is another chapter…

Thanks to all those who gave reviews for Chapter 3!

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Hermione kept her eyes glued on the open pages of the book she was holding even as they made their way around the castle grounds. Too intent on her goal, her mind never wandered away from the instructions and details of the potion she would make. But Ron, who was completely oblivious to her concentration, was kind enough to ask.

“Well…” Ron asked stealing a quick glance on her after a while. “Where can we find the ingredients?”

“Around Hogwarts, probably.” Hermione said absentmindedly, not looking at him in distraction.

Ron's eyes widened. “You're joking, right?”

“Why would I be?”

“But Hogwarts is---”

“Big. Yes, Ron, I know.” She finished for him, brushing his complaint aside. She, then, she tugged on his hands. “Why don't we sit to save your energy and run over things while we're at it?” she closed the book and immediately walked to the side of the path and took refuge under the shade of a tree.

“The first on the list is -” she looked up, hearing something nearby.

She turned her head with a vague feeling of someone looking. Yet even as she checked the area, those who were walking around weren't close enough to be heard.

Noticing her sudden alertness, Ron asked. “What's the matter?”

“Nothing.” She shook her head, “I thought I heard something.”

Hearing this, Ron looked around himself and immediately knew something was not right. But he decided to say nothing about it as he couldn't grasp what it was.

“Cadmium core wait… I already have that.” Hermione heaved a sight.

Gazing over her shoulder, Ron frowned in disbelief. “You keep that stuff with you?” Then he gave her an accusing look. “Have you been planning this for a long time?”

“No.” Hermione scoffed, “Cadmium core is a very common ingredient used in most legal potions. I keep some with me in case I need it for Potions.”

She looked at Ron with incredulity on her face.

“Honestly, Ron. It's as if you haven't brewed a potion in your life.” She lectured him, “You should know; Snape mentioned it more than once. You and --- well --- um --- you should've tried listening to him. It wouldn't have hurt much.”

He made a face and said, “Listening to him rattle snide remarks on the Gryffindors is just like listening to a broken record. I'd have waxed my leg first before listening to him.”

Not bothering to comment on the other things he said, Hermione laughed at his comment. “Wax your leg?”

“Didn't say I did,” he reminded. “I'd have is what I said.”

She shook her head at Ron with an amused look but that was before she realized the deeper intent of his comic. And not long after, without preamble, she lightly touched his shoulders and whispered. “Thanks.”

“Don't worry about it,” Ron shrugged, not surprised by the sudden gesture. If she had done that a couple of years ago, he would have jumped easily and looked at her with annoyance. But now, it was different. It seemed as if Hermione couldn't find just anyone to lean on lately. “But you owe me dinner in Hogsmeade,” he kidded again.

Hermione sniffed then laughed. “Honestly.”

“Nah --- just trying to cheer you up.”

“I know,” she said truthfully, and then looked at him with questioning eyes. “And I appreciate it. But sometimes, I find it difficult to know if you're being serious or just trying to cheer me up. That's why I couldn't bring myself to talk to you before. Didn't it ever cross your mind why I used to behave like that?”

“Yes, it did. But I didn't want to ask,” he looked thoughtful. “I knew you weren't keen on talking about personal stuffs with me. You were always talking to Ha --- him. You and I seldom exchange words that didn't come out as arguments. I couldn't ask you why because I knew you were going to tell me to figure out myself. When I finally realized it, though, I understood and tried to be matured. And as you can see, I have changed,” he then nudged her. “Suits me better, don't you think?”

Hermione said grinned and sighed. “You were too childish for me then, Ron, you know that. I couldn't bring myself to talk to you with personal things knowing how you would make fun of them or brush them aside like a child would his own problems. But I'm glad you've grown up over the years. If it weren't for you, I don't know how I would have held myself together.”

“Hey, it doesn't mean that if I played around then, I'd be as laid back now. I can be serious if needed,” he said as he casually gave her a brotherly hug. “You're my best friend, and just like any other friend who cares; I want to be there when you need me.”

“A fat lot that signifies Harry,” she mumbled.

“Well, Harry…” he paused weighing his next words. “He's just being a jerk. Don't worry about it.”

“I guess...” she muttered before looking for the descriptions of the ingredients in the manuscript, which was indicated for the readers so they won't have trouble identifying them. “Shall we get started?”

“Go ahead.”

“Then next one on this list is Chlorobrail…” Hermione said. “It's a green squashy sphere-shaped seed that can be located in a Sequined Flower.”

“Sequined flower? Isn't that the one we used in Herbology the other week?” Ron asked, his voice with familiarity mixed with doubt. “The one used to make some crystal shine.”

“Lozenge crystals,” Hermione supplied helpfully, but looked surprised, though she tried to hide it. “Do you have any idea where Prof. Sprout put it?”

“I should know. I placed one under the cupboard behind the door.”

Hermione couldn't believe their luck. Standing up, she brushed the soot off her robes. She tugged and pulled at him to get him on his feet. “Come one. We have to get an early start.”

-----------------------------------------------------------

At the other end of the lawn, Harry sat with his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands. The pressure of it was too much; he couldn't seem to raise his head even a little bit. What he had just witnessed was something he couldn't believe.

A bit of fresh air after the row he had with Hermione was all he wanted.

What he got was not what he had bargained for.

After having the row with Hermione, Harry wanted to go inside, but thought it to be a waste of time since he couldn't just come up to anyone and ask for advice, so he just decided to go out and enjoy the day alone.

He was about halfway across the lawn when he saw Ron and Hermione sitting together under the shade of tree.

He didn't want to pry on what they were doing since he was already in hot water with them, but when he saw Ron and Hermione together, he felt a pang of jealousy hit him so he stopped walking with an instant urge to hear what they were whispering to each other.

He tried to move quietly towards their direction, but his shoes were making a slight noise that had been loud enough for Hermione to hear and cause her to look up.

Harry knew Hermione would sense him, like she always does whenever he was close, some kind of instinct or something, so he immediately dashed towards the nearest bush, which unfortunately was a good distance away from Ron and Hermione. He hadn't heard any part of their discussion since they were far away more than necessary, but he had been close enough to see Ron and Hermione's…cozy spot.

He didn't want to think it was more than a friend's gesture, but when he thought about it, there was no other reason.

It all seemed confusing to him and the distrust that he had recently been feeling became worse when he saw Ron with his arms around her.

He had been contemplating on whether to approach them or not to find out what was really going on but knew better than to add his offense with spying and trying to eavesdrop on their conversation.

He sighed as he remembered what Hermione told him.

Had she really declared the end of their friendship? It came from her, all right. But he refused to believe it. No way can she throw out their friendship because of something he has yet to find out.

But what was really going on?

He looked back and saw they were gone.

Now where were they?

----------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey!” Ron bellowed as he suddenly crashed against Hermione.

“Shh! Hagrid's going to hear us,” Hermione whispered to him as she looked at Hagrid who was standing near the Greenhouse Gates.

“He's going to see us,” he pointed out, pulling Hermione behind a tree.

“What are we going to do?”

Hermione seemed to be thinking about something and then after that, she moved away from the trunk.

“Follow me.”

They walked around the Greenhouse Area, passing through throngs of trees and bushes. They went to the surrounding region and slid deeper into the forest. At long last, they stopped in front of a massive door slightly higher than the first Greenhouse Entrance they went to.

“I didn't know they had another door here,” Ron murmured, placing a hand on the entrance.

“No one has used it before,” Hermione said examining the tall framework. “I've read about it in some book.”

“What about the Marauder's Map? And wouldn't anyone have noticed it when they have classes inside?” Ron asked, looking at her inquisitively.

“Later, Ron,” she brandished her wand in a refined way and pointed it towards the security device locking the entrance. “Alohamora…” she said quietly while Ron watched, looking around.

“What the…?” Hermione said.

He looked back at her and found her staring at the lock.

In his amazement, the lock had stayed…locked.

“Alohamora!” Hermione said, putting more emphasis on her tone.

Again nothing happened.

“Alohamora! Alohamora! Alohamora!” Hermione repeated all over again.

Still, the lock didn't open.

She looked up and saw no way in except for the door in front, but Hagrid was there and had seemed to be planning to stay there for quite a while.

They couldn't waste any more time.

She sighed.

`Where else are we going to get chlorobrail?' she asked herself desperately.

She looked around for any other alternatives, but there were only dizzying masses of trees and bushes around. Nothing even came close to being an entrance to where she wanted to go.

“Have you found anything yet?” Ron asked.

Hermione paused to look at him for a second and then started pacing back and fort again. She was biting her lip like she always did whenever she was getting frantic about something.

Ron, in curiosity, shook the knob and when nothing happened, stomped on the ground in agitation. He turned around, and stopped as he felt something sink beneath his foot.

He had stepped on something, but he couldn't see what it was, nothing seemed to have submerged in the ground. And then all of a sudden, the ground unexpectedly held its mouth open causing him to fall in. What could be heard next was the sound of his distant yell, falling deeper into the pit.

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A/N:

So what do you think? The adventure starts here.

-->

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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Hermione quickly darted towards the hole where Ron had plummeted in and leaned forward, hoping to find out if he had stopped falling. But as she heard his yelling, she bit her lip in anxiety, concluding how deep the pit was. She listened until the sound faded and then straightened up to dwell on something very odd.

Why was there a hole at the back of the Greenhouses?

Hermione bit her lip as she glanced at the opening and without any second thought, she jumped in.

As she slid on a narrow pipe that seemed to go on and on deeper into the ground, her descending created a slight whooshing sound, which destroyed the silence surrounding her.

Seeing a dim light approaching near, she readied herself for a nasty fall. But when she landed, a mattress, huge and soft, caught her fall.

Ignoring the question of why it was there, she stood up and brushed the dust off her robe.

`Where was she?' She thought silently and looked around.

She frowned; there was nothing in there except for rocks, big boulders of them, including the wall that was also made of huge and stiff stone. It was a hollow cave with corners and holes big enough for an animal as tall as a mare to enter.

As she walked, hollow sounds of her footsteps could be heard. She examined the floor; it was dusty and covered with grease, but crooked, looking as if people had used it as a passageway.

But who would use a place so enclosed and deserted?

No man in his decent mind would think to use this path…unless…

He needed to do it in secret.

A get away room…maybe.

Or…something used for stealing the way in.

All of a sudden, Hermione remembered Ron. She looked around, hoping to see the tall, dangly boy leaning against the wall, but he was nowhere in sight.

“Ron!” she screamed at the top of her lungs.

No answer came.

She tried to locate him by walking towards a narrower entry but as she turned around a corner, she met a dead end. She groaned.

“Ron!” she cried out again, impatiently stomping her foot on the ground, this time.

To her utmost relief, his voice, sounding blocked, echoed. “What!”

“Where are you?!” Hermione yelled clearly through gritted teeth.

“In some room---” A pause. “Never mind. I have no idea.” He told her truthfully.

Hermione hit her forehead with the palm of her hand and shook her head. It was just him to get lost.

“I'd gone through a wall…” she heard him add, almost uncertainly, not sure if it would help.

“Great!” Hermione exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air, clearly thinking otherwise. “I can't see anything but walls, Ronald! Which one?”

“I dunno...” Ron said his tone full of nonchalance; a moment's silence, then came his mischievous voice. “Start hugging.”

Hermione could tell he was sniggering at the moment. She shut her eyes, and tried to control her frustration. Here they were, lost and without a clue where they were, and he still had the initiative to play hide and seek!

She cursed, wanting to kick him right now and wring his neck with her very hands. Although he was there to help, she couldn't resist thinking he was making things harder.

“Why couldn't you just have stayed in place?” she grumbled.

Since there was nothing left to do but take his advice, Hermione moved closer to the wall and pressed against it. Hermione pushed all the while muttering to herself how silly she looked at the moment.

Long, agonizing minutes of roughly pushing her hands on walls passed but still her efforts were worthless; she still couldn't find the entrance! Finally she gave up and leaned sideways on an irregularly shaped wall, not noticing the dirty smear she was to lean on.

She cried out in surprise when it swung and brought her to the other side.

“Finally!” Ron said as he sat cross-armed on one of the heavy rocks near the wall. “I've been waiting for quite some time.” He straightened up. “What took you so long?”

Hermione's eyes were wide in disbelief. She gaped at him. Finally, with an annoyed and distressed look, she placed her hands on her hips. “You were just sitting there when you could have gone back where you had come from?”

“It won't budge. I figured it could just be opened from the other side.” Ron reasoned out.

“Shouting would have helped…”

“I was…” Ron put in. “Don't you recall? `I'd gone through a wall'. I said that, didn't I?”

Hermione's face turned from a tint of pale to a shade of deep red.

“Come on, Hermione. Give me a break. You're here now, aren't you?” Ron said.

“It had been a waste of time.” Hermione pressed on, turning around.

Ron was quiet for a moment. “How'd you find me?” Ron changed topics hastily.

“I didn't. I leaned on something and it swung back.” Hermione shrugged.

Ron's eyes suddenly glittered, he nodded then he was grinning malevolently. He turned his back on her and walked to a corner that led to another hall.

“Where are you…?” She started to ask when she saw something at the back of his robes. “What happened to your back?” she pointed gingerly, as if quite repelled.

“This? Just mud.” He tried to remove it but it still clung to him. “Got it before I entered this place.”

“Hang on.” She said, her eyes widening. “You knew all along you got something on your back when you went in here and you didn't tell me?”

“I leaned on many walls, Hermione.” Ron said slowly as if talking to a 3-year old. “I wouldn't know which one even if I wager my life for it.”

“Then how come you told me you had it before you went in there?” Hermione pointed back.

“Because of that.” He pointed to her sleeve and raised an eyebrow.

“Huh?” Her brows crossed as she followed his gesture and saw a patch of brown and sticky dirt on her right sleeve.

“Tough luck.” Ron muttered then shoved his hands in his pocket. “Now, how are we going to get out?”

Hermione looked up from the stain to him. “You're asking me when you're the one who got us in here in the first place.”

“We'll just have to find another way.” Ron shrugged then turned around.

As Hermione opened her mouth, she heard something creak.

The revolving wall.

It sounded as if it had swung something inside.

Or someone…

She slowly made her way back even with Ron calling her name. She looked and saw nothing. The wall was set and no sign of movement had taken place. She breathed out the breath she was holding back.

Then, at that precise moment, she felt something weird prickling at the back of her neck. It felt as if someone was looking at her. She shivered.

“Hermione!” Ron's sudden shout startled her. “I found another door!”

Abandoning all suspicions, Hermione retraced her steps and found him waiting for her, leaning against another wall, crossed-arm and all.

“Is it safe to go in there?” Hermione examined the entranceway as she approached him, eyeing a doorway as if it was some kind of wild animal that may attack unpredictably.

“I don't know. I've never been here before,” Ron said mockingly as he straightened up and followed her gaze, leaning close.

He barely missed her hand as she threw them up into the air and cried out an exasperated yell that reached to the beam of the ceiling and echoed back to them, intensifying the strength more than its normal power.

“We can't just go inside!” she looked at him. “We don't know if we'll be able to get back again. For all we know, we'll keep on entering doors after doors after doors, going deeper into a place we don't know, not sure if we can get out. This is the craziest thing I've ever…”

She stopped to Ron's relief, and appeared to see something through the open door. “Look!” Hermione exclaimed, going inside in a hurry.

He followed her and stopped as soon as he reached her side. They were now standing over a small plant that reached just below their knees.

“That's strange,” she whispered as she bent over. She was ogling at a patch of flowers and then opened the book she was carrying. “I would have never known Sequined Flowers grew underground.”

“Oh, yeah.” Ron said, crouching beside her, familiarity dawning on his face as if only remembering the flower. She made a move to touch it when Ron caught her hand at the last second.

“No! Don't touch it, yet. We don't know if it's safe or not. It might not be the same type we handled in Herbology,” he then pointed at the rounded contour of the flower which was covered with white cotton balls. “I don't recall seeing that.”

“Nonsense,” she pushed his hands away. “Those are not dangerous. They actually look harmless. Here,” she touched it abruptly and cried out in surprise. Snatching her hand away, she hissed out a complaint.

“You see?” Ron discoursed, giving her an I-told-you-so look when he saw blood oozing out of Hermione's fingers. He took out his bandanna and slowly wiped her fingertips with it. “You should have listened to me, Hermione. Just because…” Ron began to talk as Hermione tried to listen patiently.

She would have had to endure his sermons a bit more if she wasn't distracted by hollow sounds of footsteps, thudding then stopping, coming from the previous room they were in.

She turned her head slowly a few feet away from them, anticipating for someone to show up and enter through the door they'd just gone through, but nobody did.

She bit her lip.

Could it be…no.

It wasn't possible.

She turned her head back to Ron and managed to hear his lecture's last 4 words.

“Do you understand, Hermione?”

“Y-yes,” she said simply. `Whatever that is,” she thought.

Ron looked at her skeptically.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Come on,” Ron said.

“Hang on. What about the sequined flower?” Hermione looked at the plant.

“Never mind that now! We have to find a way out of here!” Ron dragged her up.

“No!” she pulled away. Hermione took out her handkerchief and wrapped it around her uninjured arm tightly and securely. “I did not come here to leave empty-handed!” she said, tugging the plant.

After a lot of heaving, it was uprooted and the bud's petals slowly withered and fell on the cold pavement. The seeds were revealed and it produced no more than 10 all in all.

After getting a small closable plastic container out of her pocket, she placed the seeds inside carefully. She handed it out to Ron cautiously as if carrying a very fragile vase.

Ron, on the other hand, placed it jerkily in his pocket. Hermione rolled her eyes at him, looked up and stared around. Something caught her eye, making them glitter in response.

“Let's go,” Hermione said, dusting off the sandy particles of her robe and stood up.

“Uh…go?” Ron started. “Go where?”

Before answering him, she pointed towards the east corner of the room where a small, wooden part of the rocky wall was located.

It blended almost too perfectly with the wall that she didn't notice it at first, and she was sure that neither did Ron because he was still looking around and had no idea what she was talking about.

“Over there, the one with slight crack and brown tint…” Hermione stepped forward and lightly touched it, helping Ron see.

“Ah.”

It was as all he said before he followed her.

The old door creaked as he opened it and a dimly lit and narrow passage greeted them. There were cobwebs on the ceilings, but so little amount of it on the wall. Unlit torches were on the sides, having equal distances from one another, about ten feet apart. The path was only pavement, dusty and dirty.

Their hollow footsteps were eerie against the close built of the walls and it destroyed the silence in their environment. It seemed like hours before they found themselves facing three more cave entrances.

“Where now?” Hermione asked in a distressed tone.

“I don't know. Let's take the middle one,” Ron said moving in first.

Hermione was too tired to argue and just wordlessly followed him. Feeling too exhausted and heated to move, Hermione stayed behind, letting Ron get ahead of her. But his footsteps soon faded and before she was aware of it, they had already become faint sounds to her.

Before she could catch up to him, Ron's voice traveled back. “Oi!”

She didn't answer, just sort of stood there, waiting for him to say what he wanted.

“I found a fireplace!” He exclaimed, sounding as if he was making his way back.

She couldn't see why he had done that, since they were only going forward, and not once did they make a choice again over three entrances or more.

`But a fireplace…in a place like this?” she thought after it dawned on her.

She continued to think how absurd it was, but as they were welcomed into a wider way, it turned out Ron wasn't kidding at all.

There really was a fireplace.

How it got down there and why it was there was way out of her knowledge.

But seeing it caused questions to stir in her mind as a new problem occurred to her.

Searching around, she saw that apart from the fireplace, three wooden chairs, battered and old were located in front of the hearth. But aside from those, nothing else could be seen.

No door and no suspicious looking revolving-wall to go through.

Heck she'd take on seeing a window now just to make sure they have some other way in going out rather than just trace their whole steps back to where they have started.

“Can we rest for a few minutes?” Ron suddenly spoke up, breaking her train of worries.

“What time is it?” she asked.

“Its 15 after 2.”

Hermione sighed.

“5 minutes.”

Ron smiled like a 2 year old and made his way towards the seats. Hermione shook her head sheepishly and also sat down. When she did, she felt her hand close on a thin thread-like jewelry. She held it up to her eyes and examined it more closely.

It was a white gold necklace with seemingly like vines, entwined on the body. It was shaped like a snowflake and was sparkling like diamonds, but not that bright.

It belonged to a woman, Hermione was sure of that. There was such intricate detail on the locket that could only describe a woman's perception and moods.

The intertwined vines were a symbol of some sort. And the snowflake shape was thin and flashed light shades of blue as she turned it to the side then to the other. Then, she noticed a slight opening at the side and fastened by a small lock.

Curious, Hermione opened it and gasped in surprise as she saw Harry's parents beaming up at her.

Only they were her age.

“Ron! Look at this!” Hermione nudged him, as he slouched on the chair.

He sat up straight and leaned over. In his surprise he snatched it away from her and just like what she had done, he examined it. “Wicked! Harry would want this,” he said.

“He'll get it…” she said as she got it back from him. “Once we've made up.” Hermione said, she wore the locket around her neck, then became still and stared out into space.

After a while, a cool atmosphere took place inside the cave and Hermione shivered as it breezed through her. “Ron, could you…? It's chilly in here.”

Ron stood up and went towards the fireplace.

He took out his wand and muttered a spell.

A bright fiery glow emerged from the fireplace, but neither heat nor light swept around the room.

“Would you look at that!” Ron breathed out, clearly amazed over something.

“What?” Hermione asked as she stood up and strode over.

“It's some sort of…I don't know…it's like Floo Powder, but the only difference is you can see the other end,” Ron explained, looking at the fireplace that had suddenly revealed another room at the other side.

“Maybe. Or it could be an illusion,” Hermione concluded.

“Of course. But, wouldn't hurt if we tried, would it?”

“But where are we going to end up?” she asked.

“Who knows?” Ron said. “At least we'll get out of here.”

“Wait…”

“We'll just find a way out of wherever we're going to land. Come on.”

With that, he tugged her through the fireplace and into the other room.

A room that was entirely different from the one they've been from. It looked more like a library. There were bookshelves placed parallel to the wall. Racks on the opposite side and adjacent of them were two doors. Also, to add the new civilized environment they were in was furnishings in the room, complete, but old looking.

In front of the racks full of slimy looking materials, was a mahogany table, big and sturdy, with papers and folders on top of it. Ron walked slowly to the table and examined it. He scanned the papers on the top of the desk and gaped at them, in shock of what he saw.

“Hermione…” He muttered nervously.

“What?” She was at the other end, beside the bookshelves, going through books indifferently and was dimly aware of what Ron was to say next.

“Hermione…” Ron called again, more tensely.

“What?” she cried out with irritation, turning to look at him.

His face was pale and his voice shook when he said.

“We're in Snape's Dungeon.”

-->

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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“We're in Snape's Dungeon.”

Surprised, Hermione made a quick turnaround, her face contorted with fear.

“What? How?” she gasped.

“Dunno…” his voice returning to its usual tone, but reality came crashing to him. “Hermione, we're in Snape”s dungeon!” Ron paced back and forth. Then he stopped and looked at her with frantic eyes. “...if he ever sees us in here!”

Ron made a move towards the door but no sooner could he get out when Hermione grabbed the hem of his robes and pulled him away from the exit.

“No!” Hermione cried out through gritted teeth as she held him back.

“Have you gone mad? Don't you care if we get caught?” Ron complained as he shook her off him.

“Excuse me? I'm not the one who has a knack for getting in trouble,” she crossed her arms over her chest, looking every bit a professor. “Besides, don't you see our chance? We could get the ingredients here without ever having the trouble of sneaking past Snape. The sooner we find those ingredients the sooner we can get out.”

Although still really reluctant, Ron decided to let her have her way.

"What have I gotten myself into?" he muttered.

Scratching his head, he followed Hermione around the room as she dictated the descriptions of the ingredients for him to identify them easily. They moved quickly, occasionally bumping into each other as they got the ingredients in a hurry, not telling each other they were both having the same feeling of being watched.

After a few minutes, they found the frothfrump ash, rosencrest and inogobatim liquid, and tucked them securely under Hermione's robes. But just as they were about to go out, they heard footsteps from the other side of the door.

“Someone's coming...” Hermione hissed at him. She listened more carefully and heard the familiar muttering of one person she knew. “Snape.”

As soon as Ron heard her, he scampered towards the fireplace in panic, hoping to seek cover through it. But before he had the chance to get inside, Hermione grabbed him again.

“Not there,” she dragged Ron past a mirror, towards behind the bookshelf.

“Why here?” Ron asked when no one came in yet.

“Because, he probably knows about -- Ron!” she breathed out in anxiety as she realized something.

“What?”

“It's still open,” Hermione spurted, glancing at the mirror.

Ron followed her gaze and understood.

Whether Snape knew there was an entrance there or not, he would know someone was--or still was--in his office. And as the knob turned, Hermione could only close their eyes and wait for Snape to see the opened entrance.

Ron, however anxious he was, kept his gaze steadily at the reflection on the mirror. For a moment there, he wanted to gamble and run to close the fireplace, but thought better of it since even if he did make it there on time, he wouldn't know how to close it.

But just before the door opened, there was a spark near the fireplace and it closed in time before the professor entered his office with a loud bang of the door.

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Having heard his occasional curse, sure enough, it was Snape whom had entered.

Hermione's heart thumped madly as she waited for an angry shout from him. But minutes passed, and still, no one made a sound, except perhaps a few grunts, shuffling of papers and creaking of the chair.

Hermione wanted to know why Snape hadn't reacted at all when he saw the opened fireplace. She glanced back at the mirror and her face contorted in disbelief as she saw the fireplace, which had been an entrance a short moment ago, concealed. She sighed in relief as she realized they were safe. It didn't occur to her how that had happened. It could have automatically shut off, for all she cared.

Minutes ticked, but Snape seemed to have no intention of moving from his place. She was glad Ron had the sense of not making a sound because if he didn't, knowing Snape, they'd find themselves on board the Hogwarts' Express faster than they can say `sorry'.

Quite some more time had gone by and Hermione's head began sagging in exhaustion. Without her knowing, Ron too was lolling from side to side, fatigue clearly evading him. Then all of a sudden, he drooped against her shoulders, surprising her. Her instinct reaction was to nudge Ron hardly on the ribs waking him from his drowsy state. He hit the wooden shelf and Hermione felt, more than saw, Snape's head shot up as the noise reached his ears.

The screeching of the chair being pushed back as its occupant stood up made Hermione's every nerve pray silently for the teacher not to find them. But even as she did, she didn't really think it was quite possible to turn out the other way. His slow trudges seemed to get closer and closer, each step becoming longer and heavier. Hermione's fearful mind made her think that Snape might hear her heart beating so fast as if she had run a hundred miles.

Only a few more seconds and they'd be exposed, questioned, sent to their tower to pack and put on a train for home.

5…

She could hear Snape's deep, shallow breathing. Preparing to shout at whoever had been stupid enough to sneak inside his office. His lips curling into a nasty smile she knew so well and despised.

4…

Ron was tugging on her robes so hard she nudged him on the stomach, causing him to double over, it didn't matter if he created any more noise for they were about to get caught anyway…

3…

Hermione's lip was becoming sore as she bit it real hard, tasting fear she didn't like at all.

2…

The inconsiderate adult, if he even thinks like one, would see them in just one turn.

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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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The inconsiderate adult, if he even thinks like one, would see them in just one turn.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

A low growl escaped from Snape's lips as he turned around. “What is it?” he hissed as the door opened revealing the Ravenclaw Prefect, Alfred Olsen.

With dignity and poise, the boy puffed out his chest and stood straight. “Sir, you are wanted for the Faculty Meeting right now,” his stance was tall, but his voice had quivered and had pitched higher.

“I'll be there in a short while,” he grunted, waving him away. “You may go.”

“I'm sorry, sir, but Professor Dumbledore specifically instructed me to return with you,” he said with a slight swallowing caused by his fear of refusing to comply with the venomous professor's command.

At first, Hermione thought Snape would be likely to react furiously, but to her relief, she heard him speak. “Very well,” With an angry sigh, Snape walked out of the room with his cloak rustling behind him.

Hermione sagged as the door shut; clearly stating they were already safe. She moved away from the shelf, leaving Ron, who was clutching his chest tightly as if letting go would cause his heart to collapse.

Hermione giggled. “That was…close.”

Ron shot her a look. “Too close,” he stepped away from the shelf. “What would me mum tell me if I came back weeks before graduation?”

Hermione laughed. “Relax, Ron. It's over.”

He just shook his head and waved his hands to quiet her.

“I wonder how the fireplace shut by itself, though,” Hermione muttered greatly after.

Ron turned around to look at the hearth himself. With a slight frown, he also remembered something very mysterious--something he didn't want her to know. It was how he witnessed the fireplace close by itself--or rather how someone closed it.

It was better she didn't find out about it or else there would be a lot of problems. She also needn't know he noticed the times she was spacing away, hearing things away from them.

It was only when he saw the fireplace close by itself that Ron had finally confirmed that someone was really following them…but it wasn't Harry.

At least he didn't think it was Harry.

And it couldn't be him because he saw Harry run up to the castle just before he had crashed into Hermione and he would have never caught up in time to see them go down that pit. And Harry wasn't the type to follow someone discreetly…

He just wasn't…

“Could it have closed automatically?” Hermione asked no one in particular.

“No,” Ron countered. “I reckon something else.”

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After Hermione and Ron had pondered on how the fireplace closed by itself, they decided to get out of the place before anyone else came back. With Ron almost finally getting over it, he and Hermione laughed their heads off at the close call they had met as they dashed towards the Gryffindor dormitory.

The long run from the dungeons to the top of the tower caused them to lose their breaths. Passing through the portrait hole, they dragged themselves towards the empty couch in front of the fireplace and breathlessly collapsed on it. The common room was free of people as it was a Sunday and students were outside enjoying their free time.

“Ron?” Hermione spoke, staring at the fire, unaware that she said his name in an anxious manner. It sounded as if merely addressing it verbally would endanger whatever it is she wanted to tell him.

Ron, however, heard the great deal of caution in her voice and looked at her, alarmed. She had straightened up, but hadn't removed her eyes from the fireplace.

“Hmm?” He answered, looking at her even as she continued to gaze pensively at the flames.

“Did you notice something odd back there? In the cave, I mean.” Hermione asked, this time meeting his gaze. Though she was looking at him, her voice still contained the same amount of uneasiness.

Ron took his time in answering and when he did; his voice was deep and serious. “For a moment there, I did.”

“Do you think someone was following us, then?” Hermione asked fretfully, biting her lip.

He was about to say `yes' when he stopped and reminded himself that telling her he was convinced someone had followed them would only increase the troubles she was facing. So instead, he lied.

“No,” he tried to keep his voice laid-back and explained further his supposed theorem when Hermione gave her a look that was clearly asking `why'.

“Just think of it like this, the cave is underground and the place probably hadn't been passed by for years now, if it had been actually passed by people. So maybe, it was just, you know, ghosts.”

“And I'm supposed to believe that?” Hermione certainly cocked her head to one side, a teasing smile playing at the corner of her lips.

“No--just wanted to say something.” Ron shrugged. “It's up to you to consider it a possibility or not. And besides it doesn't really matter because no one was following us anyway.”

“All right, all right.” Hermione gave up and slouched back again. “You don't have to get so harsh on me. I just don't want to be caught.”

“Wish you'd thought of that when you nearly got us in trouble awhile ago,” Ron nagged again for the umpteenth time.

“I thought you'd already gotten over that?” Hermione looked at him disbelievingly. “ “We're fine. We didn't get caught.”

It was Ron's turn now to give up. Laughing, he held both his hands up in front of her in surrender and said, “Okay, okay. I was just playing with you.”

“It didn't sound like you were,” Hermione piped in quietly then sat in silence once more.

After a while, Hermione's eyelids began to get heavy, prevailing as it closed, once, twice, thrice…losing count as she nearly fell off to one side of the couch. She tried to keep her eyes open, but the fire added to the comfortable atmosphere around her, making her want to doze off.

She took a deep breath and sighed, releasing the carbon dioxide in her system, remembering an instant where she had been in the same place, feeling the same thing.

“Before you float away into your own little island, Hermione,” she heard Ron's voice and stirred. “Why don't we finish first what we have started?”

She straightened up and looked at him annoyed. “Spoilsport,” Hermione muttered heatedly.

“Hey, I'm tired, too, you know,” Ron quickly said when he saw the look Hermione was giving him. “But weren't you the one who told me to get things done, we shouldn't waste time, especially if we don't have anything better to do than sit all day and do nothing?” Ron urged her. “What's the next ingredient?”

Muttering silent complaints, Hermione opened the Tome Aloc Lution and read the next ingredient. “Phoenix feather,” Hermione said,

“Ok. Let's go.”

“Where?” she asked.

“As far as I know, there's only one phoenix in this place.”

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Hermione and Ron stood in front of the portrait where Dumbledore's office was. They had dashed towards it as soon as they saw that the hallway was deserted and waited until they made sure no one else was coming their way.

“Are you sure about this, Hermione?” Ron asked nervously, as Hermione thought of the password through Dumbeldore's office that was told to her since she was the Head Girl.

“Dumbledore, nor anyone else, would be there. They're all in the Faculty Meeting, remember? And judging by the fact that Snape had just been called, it'd be a while before they even finish it.” Hermione explained.

“I don't know about this…”

“Be quiet for a moment, will you?” Hermione warned. Then tipping up her chin, she said, “Sour Succulent?”

The gargoyle leaped aside knowingly, revealing a staircase ascending the narrow passageway that led to Dumbledore's headquarters. Hermione and Ron stepped up on it and waited until it reached the top. Once the staircase had stopped moving, they stepped inside and closed the door behind them.

“Maybe it'd be better if you stay here and look out if anyone's coming.” Hermione suggested.

“Why?”

“We're two people…Fawkes might get really violent if there were so many.”

“I wouldn't call two many.”

“Just wait there, all right?” she said, getting impatient. “And besides, what if Professor Dumbledore suddenly turns up? Who would be able to warn us if you're with me?”

Ron looked at her reluctantly and leaned on the wall. “Ok. But hurry up.”

“I'll try.”

He barely heard her as she now silently approached a sleeping Fawkes on top of a timber shaft for birds. She tried to quietly reach out and pull one feather without waking him up. However, it seemed like her feathered friend had some imaginary alarm system that sensed her presence amidst him.

This caused him to open his round eyes and as soon as he saw her standing just a few feet away from him, he flapped his wings, ready to fly off.

Knowingly, Hermione tried to keep the bird from lifting from its resting place, all the while crying out loud. Not to her astonishment, it not only managed to lift from the bar, but also had the strength to pull her up easily as if she was as light as a feather.

While still not that high, Hermione decided it was now or never and pulled one feather from his tale and placed it in her robe pocket.

The sudden plucking caused Fawkes to react wildly and he flew off to the direction of the shelves, Hermione, not knowing what to do, had released her hold from the bird and her fell knocked a few manuscripts off the mantelpiece.

She stood up and dusted herself using her hands and began to place the books back where they came from.

But as she picked up the last book, the title caught her eye.

Tyro Elucidates After Hogwarts

She scanned the pages and to her delight, the book was about the graduates of Hogwarts. It showed their current positions (the book kept on updating itself), their spouse, their children, their dwelling place and other sorts of information.

Hermione continued to sift through the pages until the page of James Potter caught her eyes. She stared at Harry's father and went through his biography with interest. As she read his tales, Hermione found herself laughing at some of his comments with his days with Sirius, Remus, and to her disgust, Peter.

She sighed distantly as she read his story about how he and Lily had ended up together. It was a brief one-paragraph statement, but it was descriptive and truthful that she could actually feel the love he had for her.

And in the corner of her eyes, opposite the information on Harry's father, was a slightly big portrait of James. He looked very formal and was smiling simply at her. But as seconds passed, his image had faded; leaving a space where his picture had once been.

Then, in came another portrait. This time, it was a casual picture with his friends. They were all laughing in front of the camera; looking so carefree…then the portrait went black again.

Hermione waited, eager to see more pictures, wanting to see Harry's parents and more of the Marauders. And she would have been able to see them if Ron hadn't called her.

“Hang on!” Hermione reluctantly closed the book and placed it back on the shelves.

“Did you get it?” Ron asked when she reached his side; a hint of anxiety could be noticed in his voice.

“Yes,” she looked at him heatedly as they stepped on the stairs that were starting to descend. “Why were you in a hurry?”

“I wasn't,” he said, looking puzzled. “You were taking so long and I was getting impatient so I decided to ask if you were done.”

“And what if I hadn't been?”

“Well, I could have waited more,” he shrugged.

“Figures.” Hermione muttered and said nothing anymore.

She was slightly upset that she didn't get to see more graduates from that book. What was its name? Tyro…Tyro…something. She grumbled, wishing she had read the title again to remember the name.

Half of her was curious about what kind of information was displayed there, and the other half wanted to see more of the pictures of Harry's parents. She wondered if after this year she'd receive one.

She closed her eyes and pictured Harry's page. She saw his future easily as if it were her own. And his pictures, it was as clear as if she was there with him. But it was quite difficult to picture her name right beside the title, wife, and it was harder to ignore the pain that hit her when what she saw there instead was Cho's name.

She fumed, hating the idea of it.

A slight thud on the floor made her realize they had finally reached the ground. Using a simple detecting spell, Hermione checked if the hallway along Dumbeldore's office was free from students and having confirmed there wasn't anybody wandering outside, she summoned the portrait to open and they exited. They made their ways towards the Gryffindor tower, trying to walk casually in case anyone ever came along.

“Are you okay?” Ron asked as they nearly reached the tower.

“Yes…why?” Hermione asked looking at her with confused eyes.

He looked at her and smiled gently. “You were spacing out on me again. I was calling your name but you didn't seem to notice.”

Hermione shook her head. “Just thinking.”

“About what?” He asked.

“Things.” Hermione shrugged it off. “Nothing to worry about.”

Ron, although not believing her bluff at all, realized he couldn't talk it out of her no matter how much he wanted to, so he decided to leave her alone to handle her confusions by herself.

He understood her and also believed that sometimes, people go through instances wherein they had to solve their own problems. And as far as he was concerned, that time has come for Hermione.

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A few hours later, after having changed their filth-covered robes, Hermione and Ron went into the Great Hall for dinner, where they approached the Gryffindor table where Dean, Neville and Seamus sat.

“I'm so hungry I could eat all night!” Ron exclaimed as he motioned for Dean to scoot over to make room for him and Hermione.

“You always eat all night even if you aren't that hungry.” Dean commented as he looked unbelievably at Ron who had stuffed his mouth with chicken even before he could sit down comfortably.

Hermione grinned as she took her place beside him.

“Where's Harry?” Neville asked her as she got some food of her own.

“I have no idea,” she answered in a cold voice.

“O-kay.” Neville said as he caught Dean and Seamus' eyes, clearly understanding what was going and went back to chewing his chicken wing.

Half an hour later, Harry arrived in the Great Hall, panting. He was very dirty and sweaty; his robes were completely stained with dust and dirt, easily passing himself for a caveman in his get up.

As he made his way towards the Gryffindor table, he saw Hermione and Ron seated together with Dean, Neville and Seamus.

Ron, as usual, was pigging out while Hermione sat there, demurely consuming her dinner like she always did. She was laughing and smiling at some comments the boys made, looking indifferent as all males surrounded her.

He strode over to them and sat down beside Ron, hoping to get at least a `hello' from him. He looked at him expectantly and his face contorted in disappointment when Ron said nothing. It was as if he hadn't arrived and hadn't taken a seat beside him.

“Hey, Harry.” Seamus greeted, acknowledging his presence.

He nodded austerely in return. Although someone greeted him, there was no reason to jump up and down for joy in celebration. Not because he didn't appreciate Seamus for trying, it was just that it would have been different if Ron or Hermione were the ones who acknowledged his presence.

“What's up?” Dean asked.

“Nothing much.” Harry said, shrugging his shoulders.

Noticing Harry turn slightly red, Seamus leaned slightly so that Ron and Hermione wouldn't be able to hear, and asked, “What are you up to?”

“Nothing.” Harry looked at him.

“Aren't you planning to apologize?” Dean asked, joining the conversation.

“I already did.”

“And?”

“No use.” Harry said to all three (Neville had been listening all the time).

“She seemed to have taken it too seriously.”

“Of course she did. That was some nasty stuff you mentioned about her.”

“Yeah…but…” he gave a gloomy fleeting look at Hermione as she ate slowly. “She shouldn't have believed it. I mean, we've been friends for years, she knows I couldn't say that…deliberately.”

“Maybe it's because you've been together for years that she trusted you not to say it, intentionally or not.”

“I don't know,” Harry said. “I've tried everything, but it's no use.”

“How many times have you approached her?” Dean asked.

“Once,” Harry said hesitantly.

“Once?” Dean scoffed. “How can you know you've tried everything when you've only approached her once?”

“Because I know her.” Another perturbed glance towards the girl beside Ron. “If she has her mind set onto something, it'll be hard to convince her to do something else.”

“That's true,” Said Seamus. “But she does get convinced after you badger her about it, doesn't she?”

“Well, yeah…but…”

“And you know exactly what goes on in her mind, right?”

“I guess…but…”

“So what's your problem?”

“It's not that easy. I've never had a fight this serious with her. So I'm really clueless about what to do.”

“Just think of it this way. You understand her so much to know exactly what she needs to cool down every time she and Ron argue. So use that as your advantage, Harry. Don't think that knowing her too well would draw her near you. You need to make the move.”

“I still can't see why she didn't accept my apology,” Harry said dryly.

Dean and Seamus rolled their eyes and, as if they've been planning on doing it, they nodded to Neville who spoke. This time, in a clear, loud voice.

“Where've you been all afternoon?”

Harry was surprised to hear Neville speak at full volume, not bothering to mind if Ron and Hermione heard him. And as he looked at Dean, Seamus and Neville, he had a strong and sudden feeling that he was being baited. Not that he cared or anything. He didn't even know why Neville had asked the question and what his answer would mean to anybody who would hear.

“In the Gryffindor Tower,” he said confidently.

“And the Gryffindor Tower can make you look that way?” Seamus asked innocently, flashing him a sneer as he did.

“Well, I've been cleaning my stuff,” Harry shrugged, not bothered by what they were doing. “Some of my things got too nasty stuff on them I don't even want to know what they were.”

A prickling sensation at the back of Harry's neck made him realize Ron was looking at him intently with a burning gaze, and the deep and shallow breathing of Hermione was creating a cloud of tension in him.

“Anyone see you?” Neville asked.

“What--?” Harry was about to ask him when Ginny arrived to sit beside them and rescued him from further interrogation.

“Hey, guys,” Ginny said as she took a slice of cake from the platter and served it onto her plate. She turned to look at Harry and her nose wrinkled in amusement. “So, you still haven't finished cleaning your stuff, then?”

Harry sent a smug smile at the others as he answered Ginny in a confident tone. “I have. Why?”

“I reckoned you would have changed robes after you did.”

“I just finished and couldn't wait to eat,” he said. “All that work really drained the energy out of me.”

“How much energy do you have to spend in cleaning your trunk?” Seamus asked, incredulous.

“I haven't fixed it for ages.” Harry explained.

“So he was there all afternoon?” Dean asked Ginny.

“Didn't see him come down,” she asserted and Harry sent her a silent and discreet appreciative look. “I left the common room before he did though, and that was just a few minutes ago.”

“But he was here first,” Seamus alleged. “Shouldn't you have been the one before him?”

“I met Luna on the way,” Ginny said nonchalantly but she was a bit red and Harry couldn't help but notice her uneasiness after she said that. But she didn't say anything anymore and just continued eating, unaware of the interactions going on around her.

Ron, on the other hand, was thinking twice as hard now to even notice anything odd about Ginny except her confirmation of Harry's excuse.

If she had said it, then it was true. She wasn't a part of this ordeal; only he, Hermione and the other boys knew about what they were going through, aside from the plan, of course, so she didn't have any reason to lie about anything.

If this is so, then who had been following them all afternoon?

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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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“Hermione, why can't I go in, too?” Ron asked for the umpteenth time, causing her to stop what she was doing and look at him with an exasperated look.

It was in the middle of the night when he and Hermione snuck out to get another ingredient, the hydrangea bud, an underwater flower located somewhere at the bottom of the lake.

The knowledge of where it was found made Ron act against the whole thing. And it only increased more when he learned he was to be left on the shoreline.

“You know for a fact that if something happens down there, you would rescue me, don't you?” she asked, returning to adjusting her clothes together.

Having thought it was absurd to wear her robes underwater, she had used instead her old cycling shorts and a sleeveless top.

“Yes, but--”

“And that if there's someone coming, you'd be able to warn me, right?”

“That's true, but…”

“And you don't know what the hydrangea bud looks like and if you even know what it is, it'll take you a long time to find it because you will have trouble swimming, won't you?”

“That's ri-…no!” Ron reprimanded, turning red

She ignored his claim and said. “And I know for a fact that you have already realized that you're only wasting your breath trying to talk me out of it because you know I'm not going to be stopped. You do know that, don't you?”

“Of course I know that!” Ron said, finally giving up and giving the gillyweed to Hermione. “I haven't been your best friend for seven years for nothing, have I?”

She smiled triumphantly and took it. Popping it into her mouth, she dove into the lake without waiting for the effect to subside in her system.

“Wait! You forgot your--!” Ron said hurriedly but she was already swimming towards the bottom, causing him to just plop himself on the ground and told himself to stop worrying.

“What could go wrong anyway?”

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At first Hermione couldn't see clearly and she was having trouble breathing. She tried to gulp for air but all she swallowed was water. She choked and coughed, bubbles formulating when she released air.

But as some minutes passed by, Hermione could feel her artificial and temporary mutation taking over her. Her arms suddenly felt light, as well as her feet. She could feel gills forming on her neck and her lungs were slowly relieving itself with air.

When her mutation had finally reached its concluding alteration, she began swimming in every direction to look for a blue flower with two yellow styles poking out in the middle, but even as she reached the bottom of the lake, the Hydrangea bud was nowhere to be seen.

As her time slowly ebbed to the due, she could feel her lungs getting heavier and both her arms and feet were aching madly. She began to panic.

What if she wasn't able to get even just one bud in time? Knowing she mustn't waste any more of it, she paddled deeper to the lowest point of the lake. Her muscles were already throbbing and her head was swimming with difficulty in shifting.

Her vision suddenly narrowed as she saw a flash of blue flicker at the corner of her eyes. She paddled faster to the lower left of the bottom of the lake and there tangled in the weeds were a vast preserve of Hydrangea Buds.

Excited of what she just saw, Hermione swam to it and grabbed one flower, and then she grabbed one more, then another. Satisfied these were enough, Hermione began to swim up.

But without warning, her feet got tangled through the net of weeds below her. She tugged and pulled to release her leg but to no avail.

She would have thought of a way to get extricated immediately, but something had suddenly gnawed her at her feet and she shouted more in surprise than in pain.

She looked down and saw plimpies, attacking her clothes. Although Hermione knew they were not harmful…very much, she panicked. She could feel the little creatures consuming her robes and it was only a matter of time before she would be naked!

She reached inside her robes to find her only solution and tried to grab her wand.

…her wand!

`My wand! Where's my wand!' she cried out in confusion.

She left it ashore with Ron!

`What am I going to do?'

Then she did the only thing that came into her mind. She started yanking a plimpy away at a time as she felt it eat nearly consume what's left of her shirt. Then she bent over, though it was hard, and yanked the plimpies that were eating her lower garments.

When she had been free of the last underwater annoyance, she tried to swim up again, but the sudden stopping of her caused her to remember her feet were still twisted on the weeds.

Being reminded once more that she didn't have her wand; she looked around for a sharp object and saw a stone with a pointy edge, lying 3 meters away.

She shifted positions and rowed to the rock but before she could even move, a rush of bubble discharged from her chest, she slowly felt her gills beginning to dissipate. Her oxygen was starting to empty and she could feel an hour of swimming slowly creep to her body…

She was returning to her normal form.

Horror-struck, Hermione quickly grabbed the stone and wedged it on the weeds. She got it to disentangle her and the moment she did, she swam towards the surface.

She was losing oxygen now, her eyesight was getting dimmer and dimmer; not knowing if she'll make it or not, Hermione prayed. There was one moment when she didn't know if she was swimming in the right direction.

Everywhere she looked, she could only see vast darkness filled with water. Then she remembered that she wouldn't be able to sink because she was buoyant, so she just stilled herself for a moment and waited for her own body to float.

Her theory was right. She began to drift towards the surface and as she saw a light shining on her…the moon's beam, getting closer, she knew she would make it. And she did.

As she emerged from the waters, the first thing she did was look around. She saw Ron, the person she'd never been so happy to see, sitting near the shore.

But before she could call him, the plimpies had returned and they had pulled her down, their teeth grabbing her feet.

She managed to lift herself up once more, although her mouth was still submerged into the water, and before she was pulled down for good in one hard tug, Hermione had managed to shout out.

“Ron!”

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Ron saw Hermione's head bobbing out for the first time in the 20 minutes he was alone. He thought she was already okay but she went down under again, then emerged once more, only to be pulled down, and this time, he heard her call his name, asking for help.

He paled. He didn't know how to react. Not knowing what to do, he blanked out for a moment; his head was swirling from all the ways he was trying to think on how he was to make himself move.

But as he saw sinking bubbles erupt from the waters; Ron knew if he didn't help her at that instant, she could die. Using this thought, he was able to gather himself.

But no sooner than he could jump in the lake when he heard the rustlings of the leaves from behind the bushes. He turned around, just in time to see Harry throw aside his robes before diving into the lake.

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Harry had been hiding the entire night. Using his Invisibility Cloak, he followed Ron and Hermione when they got out at the late hour of 12 o'clock. They walked out of the castle, passing by Hagrid's hut, the Greenhouses, the Whomping Willow.

He expected them to go someplace dangerous, someplace concealed, but he would have never guessed that they were going to the lake, not that it was less dangerous. He settled himself once again behind bushes, but this time, he could hear their conversation clearly. But, to his disappointment, it didn't have anything to do with him at all.

Although he had the chance to see what was going on without being caught, he had no choice but to stay away. Hermione's instincts were far too good for Harry's liking. So he waited and patiently, he did.

It caused him a great deal of self-control not to jump out and shake the hell out of Ron when he found out that Hermione was to go underwater alone. He couldn't understand why she was willing to do it in the middle of the night, in the freezing lake water of June, and without anyone accompanying her!

But as far as he was concerned, he just couldn't understand why she was doing this, period.

He was getting frantic when it took her a long time to emerge from the waters. And his feelings went all numb when he heard her scream Ron's name.

At first, all he was aware of were violent splashing of water, but then, there it was, Hermione's voice, helpless and weak, shouting for Ron.

He wanted to save her there and there, but he couldn't.

No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't do anything.

And he waited.

He waited!

Why?

Because he didn't want Hermione to see him there…He didn't want her to see him and find out he followed them. He should have risked it altogether rather than gambled her life.

When he heard her, more like felt her, sink into the lake, Harry did the only thing that came into his mind. He jumped out from behind the bushes, ran towards the banks, passing by Ron who was gaping at him. Once he had thrown his robes aside, Harry jumped in, not considering the fact that he knew very little how to swim.

Why did he, though?

He was thinking about that as he swam faster than a rocket towards the limp and nearly exposed body of Hermione underwater. He didn't know how on earth he found her so easily, but he didn't care how he did…Hermione's safety was all that mattered to him.

Thankfully, whatever was attacking her left her alone…or he would have had to deal with it. But she had lost oxygen; he knew that right away because she was already unconscious when he got to her.

Good

`Good?' He nearly hit himself.

`Yeah. Good. Then she wouldn't be able to find out you were there to rescue her.'

He ignored whatever was going inside his head and proceeded to retrieve her best friend's body. Harry couldn't look at her properly. He didn't want to look, no matter how much he wanted to check on bruises.

She was nearly naked after all.

But even as he got her with his eyes shut tight, he knew that Hermione's helpless form would never clear his mind right away.

Harry swam towards the surface, all the while thinking on a new problem he knew he was soon to face.

He didn't like it, but he was expecting for it. He couldn't help but think of someone who was waiting for his return. Not merely for his return, but more for an explanation on why he was there.

And if he ever did receive one, he would be telling the person he held securely in his arms, no matter how much he didn't want him to.

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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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“Is she all right?”

It was the first thing Ron had inquired when he saw Harry emerge from the waters. Though he was surprised that he didn't ask anything that remotely concerned what Harry was waiting for, he answered.

“I can't tell. She's still unconscious…” He said with a tone of uneasiness. Then he flashed a worried look on her before forcing himself to look at Ron with hope plastered on his face before he spoke. “But I reckon she'll be fine.”

`And I'll make sure she always is.' Surprise seeped through him as he realized what he had thought of and was at lost as he tried to think of where it came from.

“Do you want me to carry her?” Ron asked, approaching him and at the same time, breaking his train of thoughts.

“No. I can manage.” Harry shook his head and glanced quickly at Hermione fondly. He sighed and added. “Besides, I want to.”

He felt something churn inside him as he said this. It was strong. As strong as his will to be the one to take her to the castle and be the first one to be ensured of her safety. He yearned for that assurance. But not as much as his need to be able to tell her how sorry he was that he couldn't be there to save her right away.

Ron, however, had something different going on in his mind. He wasn't sure whether to feel anger for Harry or gratitude for saving Hermione that evening. He wanted to be mad at him and yell at him for being so meddlesome with their business, but he also wanted to hug him in relief because if he weren't there, he might have been a second too late for Hermione's sake.

But even as that thought continued to flow through his brain, he couldn't stop the fact that he was also brimming with emotions about what Harry had said, `Besides I want to.'

Why did he say that? This words persisted on playing on and on in his senses that he couldn't think clearly at the moment.

Does this mean…? If it does, then Hermione doesn't need to go back anymore. But if he would ask Harry, then he would risk telling everything to him up to the point that he will need to confess to him Hermione's secret. No…it was better if this matter would just be ignored. And what was he thinking? Of course Harry wanted to carry his best friend to safety!

And as Harry looked at him, Ron felt that he was on the verge of losing control because of all the questions flooding his confused mind right now so he decided to break the ice with a little compliment to remove his thoughts on what had just happened. “It was good to see you weren't too scared to rescue her on your own, Harry.”

`Oops! Was that the right thing to say?' Ron mentally slapped himself.

“It reminds me, what was she doing down there?” Harry asked, his voice full of confusion.

`It was definitely NOT the right thing to say!' Ron concluded.

“Much better if we don't talk about it.” Ron said, his voice was full of unease and was on the brink of pacing back and forth.

Harry, however, looked up and stared, doubting Ron, not sure if he should believe that he really felt glad about saving Hermione, especially because he followed it with an unsure and relenting manner.

Ron had his hands on his pockets, but his eyes were on a blue flower that he noticed Hermione was holding. Though he couldn't see his face clearly, Harry could see that his eyes were gloomy. Not with anger, but only with sheer exhaustion.

“Why not?” Harry asked as he walked to the shore with Hermione under his arms.

She was nearly bare and all Harry could do was stare straight ahead. He stumbled forward as he reached down for his robes and had managed to balance his body to save himself from a nasty fall. He spread out his robes and slipped it on her.

“Just because...” Ron muttered before walking off.

Harry followed him, tucking Hermione comfortably beneath his hold.

“I also know you followed us this afternoon.” Ron muttered reprimanding, when Harry caught up with him. Somehow, Harry didn't look perturbed by this.

“I didn't.” He even looked confused when his eyes met Ron's. “Where did you go anyway?”

“I…” Ron shook his head, his mind still confused over this. “Never mind.”

“Er…Ron. You wouldn't tell Hermione, would you? I mean, she doesn't have to know that I was the one…” Harry began to ask but suddenly looked alarmed as Hermione began to stir.

“I don't know…” Ron answered truthfully, falling into step beside Harry, unknown to him that Hermione was beginning to regain her stupor. “She's got to. After all, she has the right.”

Harry suddenly reddened, but didn't say anything, thinking the girl beneath his arms would be able to hear him easily. But as he caught sight of her with the corner of his eyes, Hermione had fallen asleep once again. Deciding it was the best time to give Ron his piece of mind, Harry asked with his voice rising.

“Why didn't I have the right to know what you were up to last night, then?”

“I said I don't want to talk about it.” Ron shook his head stiffly and got the flower from Hermione's hand. “Right now, we should take Hermione to bed and let her sleep. She has had an awfully exhausting day.”

“But you will tell me after.” Harry said more than asked as he eyed a cerulean blossom Ron was holding.

Seeing that there was nothing he could do to evade all his disturbing, Ron pensively nodded, a reason why the corners of Harry's mouth lifted in triumph.

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Harry opened the door of the girls' dormitory a little strident than necessary and gently laid down Hermione on the bed. He pulled the covers up to her neck and tucked her in.

Before he could straighten up to a standing position, his eyes fell on Hermione's relaxed features. A jolt of poignant wave suddenly went through him as he noticed how alluring she looked while she slept. Her face was stunningly beautiful and gently innocent. Radiating a pious façade with an angelic glamour.

He chuckled under his breath.

All this time, he had his own private angel and he hadn't been able to see it. He reached over to touch her saintly face when Lavender suddenly stirred and he withdrew.

“What's going on?” Lavender straightened up sleepily. “What are you doing here, Harry?” She looked at him incredulously as if he was a maniac.

“There's…I mean, I brought Hermione up, er…she was sleepy and tired? Yeah, that's it and…um…so now I'm gonna leave.” Harry gulped, not knowing what to say. He just couldn't tell Lavender that he rescued Hermione from nearly drowning in the lake in the middle of the night, could he?

Lavender half-nodded as her lids began to shut when she realized something was wrong and bolted into consciousness. “But I thought you were mad at each other?” she asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Go back to bed.” Harry spoke, clearly irritated.

Lavender smirked at him sarcastically, but did sleep again, after reminding him to leave at once.

But Harry didn't go. After making sure Lavender was in fact resting already, Harry pulled a chair next to Hermione's bed and lightly laid his hand on hers. For quite some time, he didn't say a word. He just watched her sleep, her chest rhythmically going up and down as she breathed.

Finding Hermione sweet and pleasant, he knew he would never get tired of gazing at her. Even with closed eyes, Harry could see what lay beneath those lids of hers; those warm, cinnamon eyes he could drown in forever.

He gazed persistently, enjoying the emotion that her seemingly chiseled beauty caused him. Without thinking about it, he reached over her and let his hand sashay the side of her soft face, marveling why the effect of it was so potent that he forgot they were angry at each other.

Or maybe, forget that she was mad at him.

Harry's ferocity for her had left him thoroughly when she had that accident tonight in the lake. He couldn't help but imagine that if Hermione had died, his callous words would be the last thing he would have had told her and it would be the ones she would have taken with her.

`No…' His hold on her hand tautened, frightened that if he let her go, he would lose all that means so much to him. `No…it wouldn't be.'

`I'd do whatever it takes for you to forgive me. I promise you.' He vowed to her wordlessly and gravely.

He traced the soft delineate of her face, the smooth curve that came with her chin and felt the warmth of her rosy cheeks. Without knowing what he was about to do next, Harry leaned over and kissed her on the cheek.

`I'm sorry, Hermione.” He stood up and took one last lingering look over her and said as he exited the dormitory. `Ron's right, I don't deserve to be your friend.'

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Ron paced back and forth as he waited for Harry to return from the Girls' Dormitory. Until that very instant, he couldn't find a way out of his promise to him.

`He has the right to know.' He reassured himself for the tenth time. But even as he told himself not to worry, he couldn't help but think of how furious Hermione would be if she finds out what he was about to do.

Before he knew it, his heart had begun thudding as loudly as the footsteps he was hearing from Harry who was now descending from the stairs.

“So what has really been going on?” he asked as he reached Ron's side.

Ron paused for a while and looked at him, troubled. “I don't know why I'm doing this,” He scratched his head, “but as you're my friend, I suppose I should also stay loyal to you.”

He sat down on the couch and waited for Harry to get comfortable as he, too, sat down across him and propped himself on the elbows.

“Ok. All settled.” He said. “Get started, then.”

Ron looked at him, and then he leaned forward abruptly, causing Harry to back away in surprise.

“Can we just forget that this night ever happened?” He asked in a hurry.

“Why?” Harry retorted. “So I wouldn't be able to sleep thinking of a thousand reasons why it did? No. I'm going to find out what you were doing out whether you like it or not.”

“I doubt you'll still be able to sleep if I tell you this.” Ron muttered, then leaned back and looked at the clock. “I can't do anything about since you wouldn't let me. Just don't let Hermione find out I told you this, ok? Cause it would both be our necks if she did.”

“I'm listening.” Harry nodded.

“And don't say I didn't warn you.”

“Just tell me what it is and stop your babbling. The sooner you tell me the sooner it's over.” Harry cleared impatiently.

Ron shook his head regretfully and sighed, then began talking. It took him only a few minutes to tell him everything he knew. However, he didn't tell Harry the main reason why Hermione was going to the past. He only told him that she wanted to go back in time to avoid the arguments that had happened between them and nothing more. He didn't mention anything about changing Harry and Cho's future, afraid that if he did, Harry would get angry with her…and when he finished, Harry was staring into space not saying a word.

“I reckoned you would react that way.” Ron's voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he looked at him.

“What way?” He asked, pretending to be innocent.

“The this-isn't-true-I-can't-believe-my-best-friend-is-in-love-with-me way.” Ron said.

“You're wrong.” Harry muttered but didn't bother to say anything else.

“Listen, Harry. If you won't believe what I'm telling you, it's up to you. But it's true; she really does love you and is willing to go back in time just for you to lo-…become friends again. And I'm sorry about the things I said yesterday about you not deserving her as a friend…the fact is, you are more than a friend to her and I just don't want you giving her more pain than what she has been suffering for so long.”

“Actually, I should be the one who's sorry.” Harry muttered regretfully. “I assumed so many things and I didn't even have the right because I don't control your life. I never will.”

“Well, we were both in the wrong so let's just say we're both sorry.”

“I agree.” Harry said, grinning as he held his hand out to Ron, who grabbed it and shook it vigorously.

“Glad to be on terms with you again, mate!”

“Same here.” Harry muttered seriously, thinking that at least, he had Ron as a friend again, and that was a real achievement.

“So what are you going to do about it?” Ron asked as he climbed into his four-poster minutes later after their conversation.

“About what?” Harry grunted as he settled into his own, noticing, as he did, the moon that were up and full, casting shadows on the things inside the room, including his face, which was basked with bewilderment and gloom.

“Hermione and you.” Ron said.

“I don't know if there's a Hermione and me.” He informed Ron truthfully as he lied on his back, closing his eyes.

“Whatever you want to do, Harry, I won't meddle. It's not my call.” Ron yawned.

“And besides, there's still Cho to think about.” Harry suddenly remembered.

“Which reminds me…” Ron said, slightly sitting up and turning to get a better look at Harry's expression. “I'm really sorry about what happened with Cho last night. I just couldn't take the way Hermione had been so depressed when she saw you with her after you promised to spend the night with us.”

“It's ok. I'm sorry, too, I guess. Cause it was mainly my fault. Besides, I understand now why you did it.”

Then after the moment's silence had passed, he said. “Harry?”

Harry made a sound, indicating he was listening.

“Think about what you'd do real well. Ok?”

“Yeah, I will.” He said confidently. “Good night.”

“Night.”

It wasn't until Harry heard Ron's snores that he began to feel something.

Panic.

What would he do about it?

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In the middle of the night, Hermione suddenly woke up.

Her right hand suddenly going up to her cheek, feeling it, rubbing it gently, as if expecting it held something so sacred and so unnerving.

It took her a minute to realize that she was already in her dormitory. The last thing she remembered was she was in the lake and was being attacked by plimpies!

The lake.

Who saved her?

Water.

Wet.

Who changed her?

Her hands reflexively felt her clothing. What she remembered vaguely was how she was wearing almost nothing before she blanked out. So how come she was wearing robes now?

She scrambled off the bed and dashed towards Lavender's and shook her until her head lolled off the bunk.

“What in blazes are you people trying to do?” The girl complained irritably, waking up.

“What?” Hermione asked, stepping back. “People?”

“Harry woke me when he brought you here earlier tonight.” She muttered slowly. “And now, you.”

“Harry…Harry brought me up?” Hermione couldn't believe her ears.

“He did.” Lavender said, her eyes opening wide, clearly stating she was getting irritated.

“And…did he…er…did he change me?” Hermione gulped.

“No…yes…I don't know.” Lavender lied down again and partly covered her face with her pillow. “Mind if I get back to sleep?”

Hermione shook her head and went back to her own bed.

As she lay there, she couldn't help but feel something nagging at the back of her head…

“You wouldn't tell Hermione, would you?” She heard the voice she knew so well echo inside her brain, making her blink rapidly a few times.

“I don't know…” Came Ron's. “She's got to, after all, she has the right.”

Where had they exchanged these words?

Hermione tried to think, but it seemed like her memory had nowhere else to extend. And then a possibility came into her brain. She scrambled off her bed for the second time and switched the light open. She grabbed the front hem of her robes and read on the plate.

Harry Potter

Questions suddenly flooded her mind and it took her minutes before logically coming up with this:

If she were nearly naked in the lake, Ron would have dressed her before taking her up, wouldn't he? And she was not naive not to understand that on their way up, Harry had volunteered to take her to the girls' dormitory.

But to have his clothes on her was a whole different thing.

`Unless…'

She thought.

`He was there.'

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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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The next day was what everyone thought was a regular Monday, but it seemed like it was the most atypical turbulent 2nd day of the week they've had so far.

However, Hermione knew that there was no other day that could be just right in which to find the last and most important ingredient for their potion, the Aerotone; a magical element that lets you…soar…over the thresholds of time.

Furthermore, providing that luck was on their side, she and Ron may just be able to get the ingredient in time to prepare the potion and get Hermione to travel the same day.

So after taking a short and exhausted-like bath, Hermione exited the almost empty Girls' Dormitories and headed down the staircases where she unexpectedly met up with Ron who was also on his way to the Great Hall for breakfast.

“Hey…” she said as she fell onto step beside him. At first, she thought he didn't hear her because he didn't look like he did and was about to say a greeting again when she found that there was no need for another one as Ron turned his head slightly in her direction and muttered a quiet good morning before looking once more to the fore as if nothing happened at all.

This, of course, disappointed her, since she was meaning to ask him about what she found out the previous night; it was something that even a surprisingly good night's rest hadn't managed to erase. She wearing Harry's robes was too apprehensive and baffling to ignore.

Hermione was about to ask him all about it when she refrained herself from saying anything at all when they met, who else, but Harry seemingly headed opposite their way, nearly towards them.

Hermione thought she and Ron would just pass by Harry and ignore him just like what they did the day before, but to her surprise, Ron nodded at him and said very formally “Harry.”

“Ron.” The boy replied casually.

Though both of them talked with rigid tones, formal and curt, Hermione swore she saw Harry smile at Ron subtly and him to Harry.

As they rounded the corner, Hermione bit her lip as she caught sight of Harry smiling and felt a sudden shudder go through her.

`What's going on?'

“Ron…” Hermione muttered inquiringly, her voice carrying a tone of study and reproach that Ron knew too well to be alarmed at the sound of.

“What's next?” He cut her before she had the chance to ask what he was certain she would want to talk about.

“Excuse me?” she asked, too preoccupied with Ron's unconnected reaction to notice the sudden difference between the coloration of his ears a minute ago and as of the moment.

“What's next in the ingredients?” Ron repeated slowly, fidgeting with his tartlet, trying his best not to avert from his intention of diverting the topic from what she wanted to ask and what he wasn't keen on discussing.

“The Aerotone.” Hermione looked at him more directly; he was definitely not behaving like his typical unusual self today.

“Where can we find it?” Ron asked once more, not noticing that he was making obvious something he was trying to hide.

“Why are you so interested in finding it?” Hermione countered.

“I just wanted to ask. Is that bad?” Ron asked in what he hoped was a hurtful tone.

It had worked, he found out, as Hermione looked at him apologetically. “No. No, it's not. Sorry, I just--never mind. I thought you were just evading my question.”

“Were you trying to ask me something?” Ron asked innocently as if he didn't really know that she wanted to ask a question, much more what the subject of that inquiry was.

“It was very stupid. Don't mind it at all.” Hermione waved her hands in his direction and smiled at him, somewhat relieved.

“Was it stupid enough to not be asked again?” Ron tested in an expectant voice that Hermione knew, at once, was holding something beneath the seemingly innocent question.

“I suppose. Now, the Aerotone…” Hermione started to explain, but after hearing Ron's sudden outtake of recoil, she stopped and creased her brows as her eyes searched his for an answer she couldn't get from his words. “What? I thought you wanted to know more about the last ingredient?”

“Well…uh…uh…”

“Are you hiding something from me?” Hermione asked, her voice flat and incomprehensible

“No…why would I? I mean…do I look like I have something to hide?” Ron asked, swiftly gesturing his fork towards him, sending a piece of bacon on Seamus' plate.

Hermione looked like she was about to say `yes' but held back and decided not to trail things further in order not to get into a quarrel with him.

So with a last look of hesitation, she said with a sigh. “The Aerotone is an air rift. It forms in the sky where magic let's you fly. It's some sort of gel that feels something like nothing. And--” The rest of what Hermione was about to say died down as she witnessed Ron's face contort into twisted confusion. She rolled her eyes in his direction and waved him off impatiently. “I don't understand it either. So, as I was saying, the only place I can think of where I can get it is the Quidditch field.”

With that, Hermione bit on a toast and looked at Ron nonchalantly even as he dropped his fork which gave a loud clunk as it hit the wooden table. “I? What do you mean, I? You're not planning to get that alone again, are you?”

“It's the rule in the book.” She said causally even as he gaped at her with wide eyes and an open mouth. “It was strictly stated there that the only one who can get it is the person who will use it and who has the intention to travel through time. As far as I know, I'm the only one who has the intention to go back and I am the only person who will.”

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Harry stood in front of the mirror, letting the morning light strike his bare arms. As he changed into his robes, he couldn't help but lose himself inside his thoughts. Thoughts concerning all the things Ron had said the night before. And even though he didn't want to be bothered by it, it did.

The truth was, since after Ron had told him about Hermione's feelings for him, Harry began to ponder on his own and he cannot say that he couldn't find even the tiniest bit of feeling for her.

But he was her best friend. And whatever she had been doing to him, or the way she has been treating him throughout the years they'd been together were, what he assumed, only acts of friendship, not of love.

He assumed that the reasons why she was always there to help him out with his problems were because she wanted to sympathize with him, because no one else would do it, maybe it was what a real friend would do or probably because of their friendship ties.

Actually, it was really for friendship ties…once, but not anymore; because from the moment Hermione fell in love with him, her reasons for being with Harry all the time were more than just because they were friends.

Moreover, it was also hard for all these to sink in since he had always assumed that the reason he and Hermione were being so easy around each other was because of the close bind between best friends and nothing more. How was he supposed to know that there was something different in the way she felt for him?

Maybe it was because he was too naïve to have noticed, thinking that it would never be possible for Hermione to fall in love with him. But he should have seen it coming. There wasn't any rulebook in the world that stated guys couldn't fall in love with their best friends. How could he have been so stupid?

But Harry knows, probably so does Ron, the only sensible question left for him to answer now was “Does he love her back or not?”

He couldn't say if he was in love with Hermione or he just loves her so much as a friend that it was just apprehended as true love because of its intensity. But then, though his mind was as confused as his heart, he was certain about one thing, he does feel something about her.

But telling Ron his profound thoughts wouldn't be his move, yet. He doesn't want to do something without thinking about what would happen. And he wanted nothing more than to benefit everybody, not just himself, with his decision to avoid any harsh results. And from what he can feel, all he needed now was time to think about it and there was no better place to do that than in his hideaway.

So without further fussing, Harry grabbed his broom and went to where he knew, on a day like this, no one would even think of going to.

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“Are you sure you want to do this?” Ron asked, looking up at the cloudy sky, worrying greatly for Hermione's sake as he noticed the way the clouds were moving and the way the wind was blowing his hair nearly off his head. “You've never flown before.”

Hermione looked at him as if he was the most unbelievable guy she has ever met.

“Excuse me?” She sputtered, placing both her hands on her waist. “I have flown before.”

Ron looked at her with a skeptical look.

“Just not that high.” Hermione admitted fearfully, biting her lip and looking up for the first time. She had to admit that it was really overcast and all that she could see where the blue horizon had been was pure vastness of ethereality. What she now only saw was the clouds that were covering the whole atmosphere. And the mere thought that she would be flying into that gloomy vastness filled with no color was making her uneasy by the minute.

“Why am I doing this again?” She asked, starting to get hysterical as she gripped the broom harder. “Remind me why I'm doing this again.”

“You want to go back in time and tell Harry you love him.” Ron said monotonously.

“Oh, yeah…” Hermione shook her head as her franticness mellowed a little.

“I'm not sure why I'm letting you do this. After what happened to you in the lake, I don't think I should.” Ron said, but after realizing what he had brought up, he nearly smacked himself as he saw Hermione cast him a grave look.

“Harry took me up last night.” She said matter-of-factly barely noticing Ron gulp. “And surprisingly, I had on his robes. Do you know why that happened?”

“I…uh…he did?” Ron asked nervously.

“What? As if you didn't know.” Hermione said as she crossed her arms.

“I took you up after I got you from the lake and I left you on the couch in the common room.”

“With me wearing his robes?” Hermione asked.

“I d-dressed you with my robes but they were also soaked because I had no time to remove them when I got you from the lake and Harry's robes were on the couch. So I replaced mine with his.” Ron lied hurriedly, thanking the weather for the wind had picked up and Hermione wasn't able to see Ron's ear shade change as red as a tomato.

“Why on earth would Harry have his robes lying around? And why did he carry me to the Girls' Dormitory?” Hermione asked, still disbelieving.

“I have no idea.” Ron shrugged.

“But you made up last night, didn't you?”

“What makes you think we did?”

“Well, you were both friendly to each other.”

“What? You mean a while ago? Just because we aren't speaking to each other, doesn't mean we can't be polite, Hermione.”

“Are you sure? Cause you were totally different today and I just wanted to know why.”

“It's nothing. You're just imagining it.” Ron said quickly to divert her attention to something else. “I know you're feeling really nervous right now and you're just being paranoid. Who wouldn't? You're about to do something you've never …seldom done before.” He said instead when Hermione gave him a look.

“But you know what? I fear flying more than still not having figured out how to get the Aerotone.” Hermione put in, the previous conversation forgotten.

“You mean you're going up there without knowing how or where you can get what you're looking for?” Ron asked.

“In case you're wondering, it's hard for me to find it since it's not written in the book.” Hermione said sarcastically. “Help me up, will you?” She muttered while grabbing his arms for support as she climbed onto the broom, which they had gotten from the broomstick cupboard, that was already hovering a feet above the ground.

“So if you need my help, just send down sparks with your wand and I'll come and get you.” Ron became serious as he handed her a small jar.

“Ok.” She looked up again and said. “Wish me luck.”

With that, Hermione kicked off from the ground. Though her eyes were closed, she could feel the wind lightly slapping her face as she ascended and she dared not open them even a little bit. Her knuckles were turning white from the tight hold she was giving the broomstick handle as she clutched it as if it was her life.

She stopped in midair as she felt she was high enough. And even though she didn't want to, she had no choice but to open her eyes. So slowly, she did. For a moment, the striking morning light blinded her, but as her eyes grew accustomed to the brilliance, she had to admit, the view from the sky was relaxing and soothing. The blue vastness and the white shine in front of her took her breath away, making flying really sensible enough for her.

She clutched the small jar securely on her side and began moving forward slowly. It was just after a few minutes that she grasped the fact that she didn't have the courage to turn. Afraid of what might happen if she maneuvered the broom to either left or right, Hermione continued to move forward.

She had been steady for a few minutes but when a couple of strong wind hit her, Hermione felt like throwing up. But it was nothing compared to the feeling she suffered when she accidentally looked down. It was as if her head had suddenly turned a thousand times and her whole world was swirling. Her body went numb from the coldness that suddenly hit her and she prayed she wouldn't lose her hold on the broom or she would fall. She breathed heavily, licking her lips to moisten them, she thought:

`This was all a big mistake! Why didn't I let Ron come with me? I should have never gone up here…'

And then, she realized what she was saying and mentally slapped herself. She continued to move forward steadily, scouting for the Aerotone.

`I have to find it. I have to because it's the only easiest way.' Hermione thought, suddenly feeling energetic and hopeful, but only to shriek in surprise as a blue light suddenly came out of thin air. Hermione's broom stopped involuntarily in front of the light as if it was meant to do it every time something like this happens.

Her eyes narrowed as she saw something in the middle of the beam. It was something sticky-looking and bluish. Hermione reached out to touch it and nearly gasped when it felt remotely close to…air.

“This is it! The Aerotone!” she said excitedly.

She opened the lid of her jar and place inside a large amount of Aerotone that she could scoop up with her free hand. She shut the lid as she got enough. But before she could securely tighten it, a strong breeze hit her without warning and she had no time to get hold of the jar firmly.

The jar slipped out of her arms and she so desperately craved to get it before the content falls out that she leaned down without thinking and tried to grab it. But no sooner than she could reach the container when the hand clutching the broomstick handle suddenly let go and the next thing she knew was she had yelled out loud and was falling down towards the green and grassy field waiting below.

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Ron had left his position, which was standing on the stands, for 5 minutes to get his Cleansweep Seven from the Gryffindor Team Cupboard just in case Hermione needed him. He had gone to the Gryffindor Locker Room hastily and when he had gotten his broomstick, he walked back casually and relaxed towards the Quidditch Field.

But before he could go up to the stands, a loud, piercing scream rang in his ears and instead of going where he originally intended to go, he had darted towards the Quidditch Field and saw in an expanse Hermione's falling body and froze.

Ron knew there was no time to get on his broom and fly to Hermione's rescue because in just a few more seconds, Hermione would hit the field below.

All he could do was watch, feeling vulnerable and helpless, as Hermione's body draw near contact to the ground and with a desperate cry, he shouted with all his might.

“Hermione!!”

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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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Before Ron could come across a way to save Hermione, a hazy figure unexpectedly shot past him and rocketed straight in her direction.

It took him a few breath-stopping moments to realize what was happening, but before he could fully react, another figure whizzed after the first one, also heading for the plummeting figure of his best friend.

Ron narrowed his eyes as he looked up at the sky to see more clearly who these two indistinct figures were. And from a distance, he could make out the one who was far ahead from the other and sagged with relief as he became familiar with Harry, recognizing him with his raven black hair.

But when realization dawned on him, Ron instantly ogled at the boy who was falling behind, but being where he was, Ron couldn't insinuate whom the other one was. But as the sunshine flashed in their direction, illuminating what was happening above the ground, his jaw dropped in amazement as a sleek blonde-haired person came into view.

“Malfoy?”

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Hermione's eyes didn't open even as she became conscious for the first time in the two hours she was asleep.

“Where am I?” was the first thing she asked.

A screeching sound came and then someone answered. “You're in the Hospital Wing.” The tone used was imprecise and low that Hermione found it hard to recognize the person talking.

“Why?” She grunted through the pain that throbbed in her head as she sat up.

“Don't you remember?” Another voice spoke, though it was clearer, she still didn't know to whom it belonged. “You fell.”

She fell?

She fell from where?

Hermione asked herself as she rubbed her aching forehead persistently. And then memories came flooding back to her in a speed of a bullet. It was so fast that Hermione had to keep herself from gagging as nausea hit her.

She swallowed hard. Then tears burned her eyes. “Oh God.” She muttered clutching the sheets to herself and covering her face. “Ron, thank you.” Hermione's muffled voice could be heard through the rumple of sheets. “You don't know how glad I am to know you're here.”

`Ron?' Harry frowned in offense as he felt his insides relent. How could she say that when he was the one who saved her? Didn't it ever cross her mind that he also cared about her safety?

But as he continued to look at her with the same amount of intensity, two things overwhelmed him: pity and guilt. As he saw Hermione sobbing into the nest of sheets that he placed on her while she was resting, Harry realized how simple the explanation was and he nearly hit himself for thinking otherwise. It was only likely for her to think that Ron rescued her since he, Harry, was the last person whom she expected to be there to save her life.

He paused in thinking to watch her for a moment and was surprised when a sudden shiver went through him, making him feel for a brief second Hermione's trembles, as if they were his own, and he fought the urge to wrap his arms around her.

But even as he continued to resist against that temptation, he knew he was about to lose the battle. Seeing her like this, all weak and helpless, was too disconcerting to ignore, even for someone who has experienced a lot of pain for so many years.

`Damn it!' He thought as he finally gave up the struggle. He stood up, ignoring the presence of a slightly unsolicited companion, sat just in front of Hermione and leaned over to wrap his arms around her quivering shoulders.

Fearing that she would find out his identity sooner than necessary, Harry lifted her chin and rested it on his shoulders so that when Hermione opened her eyes, she wouldn't be able to see his face.

Her rubbed her back soothingly, relishing and reveling the feeling, as he thought when again could he experience this closeness with her because, though everything in him were blaring in protest, he couldn't escape the fact that as soon as she finds out that he was Harry, she would be like she was yesterday.

Kissing the top of her head, Harry shoved away all these thoughts. As important as they may seem, they don't bear contemplating. For now, all he wanted to do was hold her, calm her silently and give her the comfort he once forgot to offer.

Hermione felt her shock ebbing away and she began to relax. Somehow, `Ron's' embrace seemed to have calmed her and his hands on her back added to his warm gesture.

She was surprised on how fast she had relaxed beneath his hold, though.

It was usually Harry who had that quick effect on her, not him.

A soft breeze entered through the open window of the hospital wing, playing with her hair and then brushing her cheeks lightly, all the while furthering her repose, and she sighed peacefully as she wondered when was the last time she had felt this calm and at ease.

Hermione slowly opened her eyes to let the tears that had formed beneath her lids fall, but before she could close them again, she saw someone sitting beside her bed, someone who wasn't welcomed anywhere near her and she stiffened. As time stood still, all she could think about was why on earth was he there?

Hermione held Ron's shoulders firmly and pressed him away from her so that he could explain why Malfoy was a couple of feet away, but her eyes widened in shock, and then her jaw dropped, forming a slight `o', as she recognized the person staring back at her.

“Harry…” She muttered numbly and lost feeling or track of things.

Now there's no doubt why she had felt composed immediately. Her intuitive being knew it was Harry who was holding her though her consciousness didn't know it.

“Do you feel anything?” he asked her. The concern and worry in his voice brought her back to her senses and though it seemed genuine and forthright, Hermione found it too good to be true. She refrained from answering his question as well as avoided his gaze.

“Do you feel pain somewhere?” He asked again.

There was no sign of impatience in his voice, only pure worry that even though was now twice as strong, she still didn't want to trust it, fearing that if she did, she will end up falling once more into the pit of glum.

“Would you like me to call for Madame Pomfrey?” Harry tried once more to get something out of her. But he received no reply; he reddened in shame and finally kept quiet.

Embarrassed, but hurt at the same time, Harry couldn't help getting angry with Hermione. All he was being was a good friend, but why was she acting as if he didn't exist at all?

The next thing he knew that made him want to lose his temper again in anger and frustration, Hermione had released her hold from his shoulders and was facing the other way, towards Malfoy. And even though she was turned the other direction sideways, Harry could see the expressions that were held in her eyes.

They were full of inquiry and hesitance; Harry understood its cause. She wanted to know why Malfoy was there, but she didn't want to talk to either of them, as they were both her enemies, and talking to one would mean lowering her pride, which was something she didn't want to come across at the moment.

He sighed, admitting defeat, and moved off the bed to sit back on his chair.

“He also tried to rescue you, Hermione. Believe it or not, Malfoy wanted to save your life.” He supplied helpfully with a hoarse voice, not bothering to hide his irritation for her.

But even as he said this, his gaze had probed Malfoy's face, as he was more concerned on his expression rather than of Hermione's, expecting to see arrogance and gloating. But it came as a shock when he saw Malfoy staring at her with a grave look. Though it was baffling and sudden, Harry couldn't fail to notice that it seemed real.

Then, Harry smiled furtively as he saw Hermione's face. Her reaction had been predictable. Disbelief and surprise was written all over her as she continued to look at Malfoy with those vivid brown eyes of hers, searching for what she could make out of Harry's explanation and refusing to believe that what he told her was real.

But then, Harry decided, her reaction was nothing compared to the one he had earlier that morning in the Quidditch Field.

He slouched back on his chair and rubbed his chin with his index and thumb, switching gaze once more. Harry didn't know why Malfoy had gone after him when they saw Hermione fall. But he was glad he did, because he wouldn't have gotten to her on time without the thought of Malfoy being there instead to save her if he couldn't.

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Just a little while back, Malfoy had gone to the Quidditch Field, also thinking that no one would be there, his hopes up that he would be able to think, and was equally surprised, as Harry was, when they saw each other.

There was a moment of stillness between the two wherein neither one moved or talked, just stared at each other while hovering into the air. By the time they had been looking at each other for 5 full minutes, Harry had started to get annoyed since he had gone there to reflect on his thoughts, not to stare at Malfoy all day.

He was about to snap at him when to his surprise, Malfoy had began to talk and the first words that came from his mouth were the last words Harry expected to hear from someone like him.

“I'm sorry…”

Harry looked up at Malfoy's face abruptly, searching for hypocrisy and deceit with incredulity written all over his face as he heard what he said. A nerve-wrecking moment passed wherein memories flooded his mind, making him remember what all he and his friends had been through just because of Malfoy's taunting and malice, before his expression changed into fury and contempt.

“Sorry?” He spat. “Is that all you can say after everything you've done to us? I'm not ruthless, Malfoy, but your sorry won't change the way things are between us.”

“I know it won't, Potter.” Malfoy retorted angrily, meeting his fiery gaze with his own blaring ones. Harry could tell this conversation was very hard for him and he had to give Malfoy credit for trying and stepping on his own pride by doing so. “I'm just trying to make things right, that's all. I don't expect you to forgive me. Hell, I would have been surprised if you had. And I'm not stupid like you think I am; I know I did lots of things and I'm not ashamed to admit that now. All I'm trying to do is apologize. At least I won't feel guilt every time I think of you and your…friends.”

“Guilt?” Harry asked, laughing bitterly. “Do you even have a conscience, Malfoy?”

“Yes, I do, Potter. Just because I've spent half of my life insulting you, it doesn't mean I'm not human and I don't feel anything.” Malfoy said sheepishly.

“What if I don't accept your apology and say I rather wish you'd rot in hell?” Harry challenged.

“Then, by all means, do it.” Malfoy raised his eyebrows and grumbled. “But don't go telling me sooner or later that I never said sorry because I'll throw this day at your face.”

“For a guilty person who's apologizing, you don't look like you're sorry at all.” Harry sniggered. “And why the sudden change? Did dear Lucius tell you to do this? No, wait. Mr. Malfoy wouldn't do such a thing, would he? He'd rather see you dead than come anywhere near me for good reasons.” Harry mocked with the corners of his mouth lifting into a mocking smile.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed heatedly, his fists gripping his broom handle tensely as he was tempted to hit Harry. But then, given that it wouldn't result to a fruitful effort on his attempts to make things right, Draco took a deep breath and forced himself to cool down.

“Can't I just change my mind on my own? I also have the right to say things like that, and unless you show me a written contract that only those like you can apologize, I'll keep on saying sorry to anyone I want to.” Malfoy maneuvered his broomstick the other way. “You know what? I don't have time for this. I've said all I wanted to say and if it's not good enough, I don't know what is. And if you won't tell me, there's nothing I can do. Have a good life, Potter.”

And that was when it happened. Before Harry could think of something to say to Malfoy, a piercing scream from the other end of the Quidditch field startled both of them and he quickly turned his broomstick to where the sound came from and his body all froze up when he saw the unmistakable figure of Hermione falling.

Harry didn't waste time to think. He leaned forward, flattening himself on his Firebolt, and, unlike the night before wherein he waited foolishly and thoughtlessly for who knows what just because of his cowardice, he became intent on and only on getting there in time to save her.

As he was flying, he saw out of the corner of his eyes, Malfoy flying hastily as he was in the direction of his best friend and he knew the reason he was doing it: Malfoy wanted to prove that he was really serious in regretting all he did by coming to Hermione's rescue, provided that if he were the old Malfoy, he would have just left her to Harry.

Thinking that he would spoil this chance for him to talk to his best friend, Harry urged his broom faster and soon he was going through the air in the speed of a bullet, passing by Ron who was gaping at Hermione. He didn't stop to think why he was just standing there; it was irrelevant at the moment for he was concentrated with something more crucial and significant: getting to his best friend.

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“He did, did he?” Hermione's voice ransacked Harry's brain, thawing the wall that had been created in his mind as he reminisced on what happened earlier that afternoon.

Oddly enough, no one bothered to answer her. The long lines of questions in the minds of the other two occupants in the room making them busy to respond.

She continued to wait, clearly showing she was starting to get impatient, for them to elaborate more on the last statement Harry had asserted. But when it looked like no one wanted to take things further, she was the one who broke the ice. “Where's Ron?”

It was an irrelevant query but she didn't have anything more interesting to talk about so she let it go at that.

“Outside.” Malfoy supplied in an unexpectedly mellow voice, surprising Harry and her. “Would you like me to call for him?”

By the look on her face, Hermione appeared unlikely to say anything, but it came as a surprise when she accepted the offer. “Yes.”

Malfoy nodded sternly, stood up, and crossed the room towards the massive doors. But before he could get out, a muffled sound came from Hermione causing him to double back.

“Pardon me?” He asked, turning to look back at her.

“Thank you.” Hermione muttered, looking down as she fidgeted with the sheets.

“For what?”

“Trying to save me.”

“It was nothing. Ha-…Potter saved your life, not me.” Malfoy looked uncomfortable and was staring at the floor as he shifted on one foot to the other.

“At least you tried.” Hermione answered in a nonchalant tone, clearly stating the fact that she'd rather not talk anymore.

Malfoy, having the keen sense to take this as a sign that he should take off, soon left but not before he had smiled and said, “You're welcome.”

When Draco had altered shut the gigantic timber doors of the Hospital Wing behind him, two things swiftly filled the atmosphere around Harry and Hermione silence and tension.

At some stage in the center of the stoned immobility about them, Harry's eyes strayed over to look at Hermione, hoping that just by staring at her, some force in the universe would communicate with him and inform him on what to say to get started with a conversation that would end up with, what he was hoping, an understanding and peace.

But the more Harry concentrated himself on looking, the more Hermione seemed intent on NOT meeting his gaze. And by the time their game of cat and mouse had gone far too long, Harry's lips were already set into a thin, grim line; the recent even only an addition to the dour result of the fact that not once during the time after she had thanked Malfoy did she even bother to acknowledge his presence and show the slightest bit of appreciation to him for jeopardizing his life for her sake.

But his already foul mood only increased to a great extent when Ron came bursting into the room like a cannon a few minutes later, looking frantic and relieved at the same time when his gaze fell on Hermione.

A pang of jealousy tightened in his gut as he saw Ron cover her hands with his own and kept that contact longer than what was comfortable for Harry.

And at that point when it felt that his envy would erupt inside him, a thought crossed his mind that he had to bite himself just for him not to yell in irritation. He didn't know which distressed him further the way Hermione tried to move away from him a while ago or the way she let Ron get near her, much more hold her hands.

“Are you ok?” He heard Ron ask with the same amount of concern he, himself, had shown.

Hermione waited for him to sit himself down before answering in a small voice. “I'm fine. Just a headache.”

Right there and then, Harry wanted to shout. He wanted to yell and inform them that he was still there and he was not feeling well at all because of what he had just seen.

But he realized that if he did that, he would just end up looking guilty; guilty of being jealous of Ron's sudden privilege and with that simple but complicated word, a whole string of questions would be brought to life and Harry wasn't sure if he were ready to face them.

But still, he just couldn't shove away what was happening between them. Harry wanted to make the knowledge of Hermione being in love with him an excuse for the treatment he was receiving, but even imprudent people would think she was acting too much!

Then his contemplating stopped when he saw her motion for Ron to lean over and when he did, she whispered something to him.

It was a few seconds later when Ron moved away abruptly from Hermione, looking taken aback for a moment but then he nodded and with a grim expression on his face, he moved away from her and walked around the table to where Harry sat.

Ron pulled him up and walked away from the bed to a private corner in the Hospital Wing to talk to Harry alone and judging by the look on his face whatever it was he wanted to discuss with him wasn't encouraging in the slightest bit.

“It doesn't look good on you, mate.” Ron muttered with a severe look.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, puzzled, stealing a glance on Hermione, who had pulled her knees up and was resting her head on them.

“She wants you to-…please don't be mad about this, Harry…she wants you to leave.”

“Leave?” Harry bellowed. “What do you mean `leave'?”

“She said she doesn't want to see you right now. I know this is very selfish of her but think of what she's been through, Harry. I know you'd also do it if you were in her position and don't even bother telling me you won't because I haven't been your friend for 7 years for nothing. What's best right now is for us to let her cool down a bit and try not to pressure her about the matter at hand.”

“I don't believe this.” Harry hissed fumingly as he began pacing back and forth. “I don't friggin' believe this! What the hell is wrong with her? Why is she being this…sensitive? I didn't do anything wrong. She was the one who committed the mistake! It wasn't my fault that she didn't tell me about her feelings.”

“Harry, Harry, calm down.” Ron raked a hand through his hair. “You don't want her to see you like this, trust me. And it's no use blaming Hermione. She's a girl, for crying out loud! Girls can't always do the things that boys can. That's why we propose; remember? They are too emotional and timid to undergo such things.”

“Yeah, well, Hermione isn't just any normal girl, she's…different.” Harry wanted to say `special' but thought better of it because saying that would mean something else that might get Ron suspicious.

“I know. But, hey, if it makes you feel better, she really appreciates you saving her life.” Ron stated.

Harry suddenly stopped pacing and his expression brightened. “She does?”

Ron couldn't help but grin at the look on Harry's face and nodded. “She told me to thank you for that. But do me a favor; just get out of here for now. Believe me. If you do what she asks, you might actually look like you care for her.”

“But I do!” Harry countered, splaying his hands in front of Ron.

“Yes, but to her, you don't. So just leave her alone to think for a while, ok?”

Harry swallowed, not trusting himself to speak just yet, and looked at Hermione's direction and was startled to see her withdraw his gaze from him as soon as she saw that he had turned to glance at her. There may be hope yet, he thought.

“Ok, I'll leave. But I'll come back later to check on her.” Harry said in a defeated voice and crossed the room to get his Firebolt that was perched just beside Hermione's bed.

He concentrated his gaze on his broomstick and dared not look at the bed's occupant for if he did, he was afraid he wouldn't be able to take his eyes off her.

After he had straightened up into a decent position, he strode over to the door and stopped there for a moment, silently praying, wishing that Hermione would come to her senses and call him back, but nothing came and he shook his head in disappointment and laughed bitterly, thinking himself a fool for even believing she would do that.

With that thought intact, he stepped out of the Hospital Wing and headed back again to the Quidditch Field.

Hermione continued to stare at the space where Harry had been a moment ago; suddenly remembering what it was like to be held in Harry's arms in the period of one glorious minute.

She wanted to call him back and tell him everything was all right between the two of them again, but she knew in the depths of her heart, she wouldn't be happy with it.

Because even though he would have been there for her, his heart would still and will always belong to Cho. Just like the way she would always be finding herself crying at the end of the day, regretting every mistake she had done and killing herself for not correcting them when she had the chance.

`If only you knew, Harry, I wouldn't be doing this.' Hermione thought, shutting her eyes and holding back the tears that were threatening to fall once more. `Strange, you know…' She said again to herself. `How much I want you to.'

A few minutes later, Harry's eyes were blinded yet again by the bright shine of the morning sun as he stepped out into the Quidditch Field for another attempt on reflecting on his feelings.

He looked up and searched the skies, expecting someone in green robes to be flying about, but to his surprise and utmost relief, Malfoy was nowhere to be seen.

Harry figured minutes ago, when he had gone out and hadn't come across his rival, that Malfoy had gone out once more in the Quidditch Field and was frustrated by the idea that the git would steal again his privacy, not that he owned the place or anything. But as it turned out, he wasn't there and apparently, Harry couldn't be happier.

What happened just this morning added to the anxiety he was feeling in deciding who his choice was. The knowledge that Hermione had already risked her life twice just for her to be able to correct whatever it is she wanted to was driving him over to the edge of his concern and Harry couldn't help the fact that she would be gone before he could even make up his mind about it. This thought scared him more than anything else in his life.

Not to mention the fact that ever since the night before, Harry couldn't get her out of his system now that he knew what she felt for him. And although it was shameful to admit, he couldn't deny the fact that he started to have second thoughts about Cho, the person he had been pining for since his 4th year, and even if he didn't want to think that what he felt for her was only infatuation, he still couldn't ignore Hermione's feelings for him.

So with an agonized sigh, he got on his broom and shot towards the horizon in lightning speed, hoping that if he flew fast enough, he would leave all his troubles behind.

“I love you, Hermione…”

He looked up at the cloudy sky before him and added in a whisper…

“But I'm not sure just how much.”

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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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As soon as Harry had left, Hermione had gotten up from the bed and, accompanied by Ron, went to Madame Pomfrey for consent in leaving the Hospital Wing.

At the first few minutes of their conversation, Madame Pomfrey's decision had been nothing but resilient; her explanation that Hermione couldn't leave just yet was told to them in a way that made them feel they were three-year-olds.

But after promising she would stay away from stressful activities for the rest of the day, Madame Pomfrey finally gave up, thinking that she wouldn't be able to make them stay put in the Hospital Wing anyway, and gave them permission to leave, but that was after she had checked on Hermione's state and found her in good condition

As they got out of Madame Pomfrey's office, they tried to hide their eagerness to leave, fearing that it might be mistaken as a stressful action and the nurse might take back what she had agreed on.

But the moment they were out of sight, they didn't waste time idling in one place and both of them went on their separate ways; Hermione, dashing to the Gryffindor Tower to get the ingredients they had collected and the tools they would be needing; and Ron, going to the Great Hall with the hopes of eating an early lunch before he meets Hermione on the second floor to get started in the potion.

But when he was standing in front of the Great Hall's closed doors, he couldn't afford to ignore the added noise inside the room. It seemed like it had been amplified ten times louder. It was only when the massive entrance had been opened by an exiting person whom he had never seen before in his life that Ron became aware of the reason why.

Today was the school's annual Stopover, a treat granted since his 5th year at every end of the yearly exams when family and friends of students are allowed to make a trip to Hogwarts and spend a day with them.

The event wasn't a bother to him, really; but he still had to duck out of sight when he had seen the people inside; he couldn't afford to be seen, that's what it was actually. Because if he was spotted by the eagle eyes of his mother, which what was sure to happen if he stayed in the same room even for just one more second, he and Hermione could just kiss their plans goodbye, since, knowing his own kin, Mrs. Weasley wouldn't let him out of her sight until the day ended.

So, ignoring his stomach's protests, Ron stalked the other way, briefly catching a glimpse of an announcement of a meeting in the Bulletin Board, and headed for the stairs up the Gryffindor Tower hoping to lend a hand to Hermione with the stuffs she was to carry.

Ron had just entered the Gryffindor Common Room when she appeared from the stairs, carrying cauldrons, ladles, and a bunch of other humongous-looking tools he didn't have the foggiest idea how they could need it.

Coming up to her, he took the bigger ones that looked too heavy for Hermione's own good, leaving her with the lighter and smaller materials. After which both of them silently went down from the empty tower.

It took only a few minutes to reach the Girls' Bathroom on the second floor. If truth were told, it wasn't a surprise when not once had they encountered anyone who was passing by the same level they were in; Stopovers really kept the students busy.

And now, as Hermione brewed the potion in a stall in Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom, she found herself remembering and ending up yet again in recalling the way it felt to be in Harry's arms, the wonder of how it gave her comfort and the sensation that Harry's kiss, no matter how innocent it might have been, caused her to feel.

But just like before, she forced herself to withdrew from her daydreams, hating the mere thought of letting the memories play in her mind like a broken record, allowing it to interfere on her recovery over the situation.

Her daydreams happened frequently that when she was finished with this one, Ron, who had also noticed her repeated trance, couldn't keep his charade intact anymore.

"You know, if you don't stop doing that, you and I might throw up from all the sappiness you keep on imagining." He said as he sat across her, his hands splayed on his bent knees

"Shut it, Ron." Hermione said, not bothering to ask how or if he knew what sentimentality she was reminiscing on.

Knowing him, he wouldn't believe any word she would say even if she were to tell him every detail of what happened. Besides, she couldn't bring herself up to do it, anyway. How could she when she, herself, doesn't believe it.

Even though she had replayed every scene of that moment for so many times in her mind, she still couldn't afford to consider it was Harry who saved her; the same Harry who thought she was a flirt, a liar, a player and a disloyal friend. And even knowing that it was he whom had rescued her, she didn't want to let go of her pride and thank him face to face.

No matter how much she wanted to thank him personally, Hermione still had some self-esteem to keep intact. She had avoided him for nearly two days now, the longest she has ever had in 3 years, and she wasn't about to stop just because he saved her.

And now that she has come to think of it, for the last 7 years, she had been the one helping Harry in a way that only she could and by what her experiences and memories indicate, she didn't need him rescuing her. But even as she thought that, she knew, with every fiber of her being, that she was wrong.

She owed her life to Harry and there was nothing in her that disagreed with that thought. With a long and agonizing groan, she dropped the ladle she was holding and crossed her arms.

"This is unfair." She muttered.

"What's not?" Ron asked, acting innocently curious.

"Why am I feeling so vulnerable just because I didn't say thank you to him?" Hermione complained, facing him with a glower.

"It's called guilt, Hermione." Ron looked at her knowingly. "It's telling you that no matter how much you don't want to owe your life to him, you have no choice but to accept that you do and act like you care regardless of how much you don't want to." Ron said with a smile so sly she wanted to wipe it off his face with a smack.

"So admit it. You certainly haveto say thank you cause you should say thank you and besides…you definitely want to say thank you."

Hermione licked her lips and thought on it greatly. "No." She stated flatly after she looked at him with a steadfast gaze. "I'm not going to say thank you to him. I'm still angry by the way he had treated me and I want him to know how it feels to be neglected."

"Wait…you've lost me." Ron announced. "You said you're mad at him and you want to get even by making him feel ignored. But you're returning to the past to change it so that you could tell him your feelings. So what's the point of going back if that's the way you feel?" Ron asked.

"I don't know. Believe it or not, even I can't seem to find a reason why."

Ron remained silent.

'Maybe you should know that Harry knows. Maybe you'd not go if you knew.' He thought to himself.

'And what?' Argued another. 'Get her to be mad at you, too?'

'Well, it was just a thought.' Shrugged Ron.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked.

Ron cleared his throat. "What am I doing?"

"You spaced out on me and then you shrugged your shoulders to an invisible companion as if you were fighting with yourself." Hermione said, frowning.

"I'm fine, I just can't see why you're going to do something you can just do in your own time."

"What if I tell Harry today?" She asked him with a tone that made him wish he didn't bring up the subject at all.

"He would freak out, get confused and worked up." Ron answered definitely, taking his answer from what he had seen from Harry the previous night.

"Exactly. He would find it hard thinking about his feelings for Cho and my feelings for him. I mean, I'm not saying that by telling Harry, he would reconsider dating her. There's nothing to compare, really. I know he loves me, but I also know that that love cannot amount to how much he loves Cho." She paused and took her time taking a deep breath; the pain in her eyes was unmistakable that for a moment, Ron wanted to end her misery and tell her that what she was avoiding was already happening, she just didn't know it.

"Go on." Ron urged with a mild tone that wasn't both too assertive and reluctant.

She sniffed, retrieving the ladle resting on the side of the cauldron and mixing the ingredients once more. "When he asked me if it was ok for him to go out with Cho, his relationship with her was still fresh. And if I go back at that moment, it wouldn't be so hard on the both of us if I tell him since he wouldn't be too attached to her that much yet."

After that, both of them remained silent. But Ron was regarding her with so much sympathy that when she couldn't bear it any longer, she pretended to be consumed with brewing the potion so that she wouldn't feel obliged to talk anymore. Hermione continued to work on the potion with a heavy heart, all the while humming to herself gingerly. But amidst her display of obvious shunning, she heard him mutter something under his breath as his gaze fell on her. "I understand you now, you know."

This made her appreciate him even more.

Harry spent his morning flying in the field and he didn't care if he had to do it for the rest of the day. He assumed that by doing this, he would be able to come up with a decision before the day ended.

He needed it before things get a bit much more complicated. He had spent some of his time asking himself questions and so far, there was this one thought he couldn't bring himself to answer if he didn't harbor feelings for his best friend, then why was making a decision to say no to her, even only to himself, that he didn't love her the way she loves him difficult?

Harry sighed.

The sun was up and it was really hot. He could feel it's fiery light creating warmth on his skin as he flew gradually in the air. Trickles of sweat slid from his forehead down to his cheeks, his neck, and his chest, wetting his Quidditch robes.

He flew to the left, hiding under a cloud, trying to keep himself as cool as possible, wishing he could hide away from his troubles just like the way he was running away from being scorched by the sun's rays. The vividness of the sunlight was ironic against the faintness of how he was going to be able to solve this misunderstanding.

He gripped the broom tighter with his hands, anger seeping through him for the first time since the moment he knew.

Maybe Hermione was just confused about this just as he was. Or she only loved him as a best friend and nothing more.

Of all the people to fall in love with why him? Although it was wrong for him to blame Hermione, he couldn't avoid doing so. Would it be fair if he blamed himself? No. It wouldn't. He didn't ask for her to see him as more than a friend! He didn't tell her to fall in love with him and ruin a friendship that he thought was so strong to be broken.

'But you were the first to break it, so it was also you're fault.'Said a thought in his desolated brain.

"But it was my responsibility to do it. Cho is my girlfriend. She deserves to be treated like one." Then, he realized what he was saying and cursed. It struck him as if it was his job, more than his privilege, to care for her.

But his half conscious begged to differ. 'Maybe because you know it is your duty, but you're just too appallingly proud to admit that you only stay with her because she agreed to become your girlfriend.'

"No, I don't." Harry muttered, "I love Cho. I really do."

'Sure. Keep telling yourself that. Then, maybe you'd be able to find a solution to your 'problem', which, by the way, you already know the answer to!'

For a moment, Harry couldn't react. He felt like he was actually talking to another person. It was so real that it was as if somebody was really having a conversation with him right there.

Harry's eyes flashed a sense of disappointment. There was nothing in this world he wouldn't give just to make his own thoughts a real live person. Because if he could, then he wouldn't have to think that all of it were true since it would have come from another instead of his own mind.

But no, it didn't come from someone else's; it came from him. And it only meant one thing. There was no way he could disregard everything he thought of…because all of them were real.

He flew down, deciding to call it over.

His thinking was done; he had no more intention to fly. All he needed to do now was find a way to get himself out of this trouble and then, perhaps, at the end of the day, all will be well. But no sooner than he had reached the ground with his feet when he saw a tall, raven-haired someone standing a few feet away from him.

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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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“Hello, Harry.” Cho said, smiling positively at him.

Harry stared, dumbfounded. He opened his mouth and tried to talk, but his lips weren't cooperating with his thoughts: no words could manage to get out of them.

But though his mouth seemed to be malfunctioning, his mind was working efficiently as he couldn't help but let questions repeat themselves like a broken record in his brain.

Why was she here and how on earth could she have entered the private grounds of Hogwarts in a span of two days?

And then Harry mentally slapped himself.

Of course…today was Stopover.

As he let his gaze fall on Cho, Harry's brows furrowed as he saw her swaying back and forth, looking as if she was waiting for something; and he knew exactly what it was and, unsurprisingly, he didn't know what to do--and inevitably, he didn't want to do it.

2 nights ago, he would have walked casually to her to give her a kiss on the forehead or on the cheek, not thinking about second thoughts on his feelings for her. But now, even only the idea of doing it horrified him.

Besides, today was different.

Because today, he knows something that might as well haunt him for the rest of his life if he chose the wrong move that, he suspected, would uncertainly be settled today.

As he halfheartedly took the few steps away from her, he felt that there was nothing in this world he wanted more right now than to escape from her sight, but as he couldn't escape her expecting gaze, he had no choice but give her a kiss on the cheek.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, stepping back; his tone of exuberance was false and forced out. Harry knew at once it was the wrong question and in the wrong approach.

Cho's eyes crossed at hearing this and when she spoke, her smile was wide but her eyes had lost their girlish spark. “And I'm very thrilled to see you again.”

“Sorry.” Harry muttered, accepting the reproof since it was really his fault.

“Just make it up to me next time.” Cho stepped closer, linking her arm through his.

Before he could think of saying anything else to her to make her go away and leave him alone, she had already manipulated him out of the Quidditch field.

For a while, Harry found it hard to speak, the product of somewhat being too busy in suddenly comparing then and now and brooding over how he feels for Cho. This time, his thinking was for her and only for her; no other person was flooding his mind.

Well, maybe one other person was.

Every now and then, Hermione's face would suddenly appear out of nowhere in his mind and disrupt all his thinking and then he would have to start all over again.

But every time he catches a glimpse of her, guilt always gets the better of him and this annoyed every inch of him. Looking at his girlfriend, Harry wanted nothing more than to tell Cho that even if Hermione cared for him more than just a friend, she would always be his choice.

But even that was too unreal for him. Something happened when he found out about Hermione's secret.

He didn't know it.

He has no idea what kind of feeling it was.

It wasn't disappointment.

And it wasn't sadness either.

But it was definitely something worth considering.

“Aren't you happy to see me?” Cho broke into his thoughts just like she usually does whenever she was around and he was thinking.

“How come you got out of work?” Harry asked instead.

“I took a break.” Cho said, not bothered that she didn't get an answer for her previous question. “And…I wanted to see you.”

Harry gaped at her unbelievably. “But we just saw each other…” Harry couldn't help but blurt out.

“Two days ago,” Cho nodded, finishing for him, “don't mind me, I'm just restless. Too much work can get so boring, you know.”

She waved her hands in front of him and did this overly dramatic movement showing her exhaustion, hoping that if she did that, he would find it amusing enough to open up to her.

Harry, however, didn't seem to find it enticing at all. On the contrary, he found it disgustingly weird that she would do that to describe the way she felt about work; whereas Hermione would just be shrugging and saying “If it must be done, then there's no point in arguing, is there?”

Knowing her, she'd do it for hours without complaint, nor eat anything at all. She takes her time on checking on elaborate details of her work, making sure she gets everything right. No flaws or miscalculations. Harry sometimes wonders where she gets the energy. Not many witches can take up on work as well as she does.

A strong waft of wind suddenly blew against them as they were walking in front of the Greenhouses and Cho's hair got all tangled in front of her face, making her look like an oversized elf with long black hair (sorry for the description--I didn't know what else to put).

“Augh…can't any Muggle invention work properly? Now I have to fix my hair all over again.” She cried out in agitation as she took out her mirror from her bag and began tidying and smoothing down her hair, not even bothering to excuse herself from Harry.

But this movement was what Harry had been expecting; this was exactly the right time to think and decide. So he just remained silent and subconsciously compared Cho with Hermione. He's never done that before, though. Before he knew how Hermione felt about him, all he could think about was Cho was beautiful, Cho was smart; Cho has a great smile…etcetera.

But now, even he couldn't believe himself, he was comparing his girlfriend to his best friend! How ironic. He was noticing for the first time some of Cho's mannerisms that were too girlish for his taste, like every 5 minutes or so she would be retouching her lipstick then going to the bathroom, just to see all in all her appearance.

On the other hand, Hermione is simple, yet beneath that pleasant, angelic face was a beautiful girl whom anyone hardly knows. She was his and Ron's friend alone. No one can take her away from him. And he was going to protect her as long as she remains his friend.

`But will she stay only as your friend?' His thoughts asked him.

`I don't know.' He said wordlessly as he stared blankly ahead of him, mistaking the sensations that were fluttering in his stomach as he thought about Hermione as just confused jitters.

`But would you be willing to give her a chance.'

The question was very abrupt.

It was unexpected, yet absolutely right.

And it most was from him…

`Would you?'

There it was again.

He braced himself for he was sure that the next thing that would come from his mouth would be the most truthful thing he will ever admit to himself and to anyone else.

`Yes.'

And then, he closed his eyes and once more lost himself inside his thoughts.

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In the interim in the afternoon, Ron and Hermione had began talking once more, their recent conversation forgotten, and neither of them had noticed that the time traveling potion was already done with the exception of a few more procedures.

When they finally did become aware of the completed concoction, their chat was halted instantly and Hermione took hold of the manuscript to read the final step of the potion. “We have to let it simmer for 30 minutes before drinking it.”

“Why? What happens if you take it earlier than the required time?” Ron asked.

“The effect would be different.” Hermione said simply, and then she put down the book and looked at her wrist, and then made a face when she saw that she forgot to wear her watch; she turned to look at Ron. “What time is it?”

After looking briefly at his left wrist, he supplied. “It's 1 in the afternoon.”

Hermione nodded thoughtfully and heaved out a weary sigh. “So, basically, I will take the potion at 1:30. It wasn't as hard as I thought.” Hermione shrugged, placing the book beside her and then she looked back up at Ron. “Are you sure it's 1, not 12:59 or 1:01? Something might go wrong if I take it earlier or later than after 30 minutes.”

Ron checked again, and then nodded in assurance. “If you're not counting the seconds, then it's 1:00 in the afternoon.”

Hermione gave him a small smile before sitting up straight. After she had found herself a comfortable sitting position, she eyed the potion, expecting to feel excitement flowing through her when she did, but only to feel, for the first time since they had acted on this plan, the wild frolics of her nerves.

She was really ecstatic about her journey back, but there was no point in denying the fact that she was also feeling nervous as the clock continued ticking.

Seemingly aware of her feelings, Ron adjusted his pose, which was leaning on the wall, and seated himself at the farthest corner of the stall to be able to look at Hermione directly. “Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked after scrutinizing her for a while.

Despite of her nervousness, Hermione still had the initiative to laugh. She gave him an amused look. “You've been asking me that ever since we started out with this plan.” She reminded him haughtily. “We followed everything the instructions had said. I'm going to be fine.”

“Oh? Is that so?” Ron asked with a teasing smile. “Then why do I have the idea that you're starting to have doubts about this?”

Hermione tried to look innocent, but after accidentally looking into his eyes, in which by doing so, triggered something like guilt inside her, she smiled somberly. “I am getting a little nervous, but I'm not backing out. I have time traveled before, remember?”

“Yeah...” Ron nodded his head mockingly. “But it was different then.”

“No, it's not. I still time traveled, there were also dangers at that time.” Hermione interjected and then, having made her point, decided to keep on thinking while saying nothing.

At this point of time, silence became a very essential part of their atmosphere; partly because they were thinking about things, but mostly because none of them have anything to say. It wasn't until five minutes later that Ron spoke again. “Do you need to take anything with you? Clothes, food…?”

She shook her head, thinking that he was being very silly but practically thoughtful and said with a grin. “I appreciate your fussing but, no, I'll be fine without anything. I'm going back to the past, not the year 3004. Whatever it is I'm going to need would still be there.”

“Sorry.” Ron shrugged apologetically and laughed tensely. “I'm just nervous about this as you are, that's all. What if you get lost? I won't be able to save you. My knowledge with spells is not that good, especially with Potions. And a fat lot it will help you when something goes wrong.” He added bitterly. “If it hadn't been for you helping Harry and me, we wouldn't have passed most of our subjects.”

“No. You're not the best in academic matters…” Hermione agreed thoughtfully and laughed warmly when Ron looked appalled by her acknowledgment and then comforted him in a whisper. “But you're definitely one of the best friends anyone could ever hope for.”

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“Harry, where are Ron and…Hermione, am I right, Hermione, right?” Cho asked in a sweet voice once she had come back.

“Great Hall.” He lied obviously, not even bothering to acknowledge the way she deliberately seemed to forget Hermione's name.

“Oh, really?” Came her voice, faking surprise. “But they weren't there when I went inside looking for you.”

Harry didn't answer; instead, he silently prayed that Cho would just stop talking for once. He didn't know if he could take another minute listening to her rants and watch that vacuum mouth of hers open and close incessantly. But, clearly, she didn't understand his plain remoteness because she kept on talking.

“My mom's really eager to meet you, you know. Ever since I told her I was going out with Harry Potter, she never stopped nagging me with questions about you!” Then she clapped her hands. “Ooh…I can't wait for you to meet my office mates, they will be so jealous once they find out I'm dating you. Why wouldn't they? You're a fine catch!”

`Am I just some kind of fish you baited in the river?' Harry felt the urge to ask as he heard this, bile rising up in his throat. He was angry because he felt like some sort of prize that she wanted to show off to anyone who would want to listen. But then, once more, he kept his mouth shut.

As they walked, Cho kept on chatting, not even noticing that Harry was trying to begin another conversation; a conversation bringing up the subject about Hermione.

Harry wanted to pay attention to her no matter how much he wanted to talk or how repulsive she was being, but his ears weren't cooperating. Every time he tried to hear Cho's voice, his thoughts only came back to Hermione.

Hermione's helpless form the night before in the lake was haunting his mind as promised and so was the way she felt beneath his arms a while ago. His silent promise to keep her safe had been echoing itself inside his brain like a broken record since the moment he had decided to leave his anger behind by the speed of his flying.

`Would I be able to keep my promise, Hermione--with you not wanting to talk to me?' Harry muttered inside his brain even when he heard someone speak in a muffled voice.

Thinking that he was talking to himself again, he didn't mind it. Instead he let his mouth utter the name of the person he has been thinking of since that morning. It was as if saying it would relieve a thorn inside his heart. “Hermione.” He breathed out in a defeated way.

“I should have guessed.” Came a sniping voice he was beginning to get annoyed with.

Harry swiftly looked at Cho who was looking at him in a smug way and was glaring at the same time.

“What?” Harry asked in panic.

“I asked you who you were thinking of and you answered `Hermione'.”

“No, I didn't.”

“Yes, you did!” Cho exclaimed. “I'm not deaf, Harry. And certainly not stupid! You were barely speaking and you were spacing out as if you wanted to be in another place, which I may remind you, is something you've never done before when you're around me! I would have never thought that all this time I've been talking, you were thinking about that …girl!”

“I'm sorry.” Harry apologized again in a soft voice. But this time, there was a look of disbelief in his face because of the way Cho had purposely spited out mentioning Hermione's name again as if saying it would jeopardize anything in her life. “It's just that there's been a lot going on in my mind lately that I don't have the sense to pay attention to everything around me.”

Cho scoffed heatedly. “I'm not naïve; I know when I'm being neglected.”

“I am not neglecting you.” Harry said in a calm voice.

“Yes, you are!” Cho pouted and crossed her arms, looking like a silly schoolgirl. “What's wrong with you?” She asked, and then she hit her head with the palm of her hand and pointed towards the Gryffindor tower that was visible from where they were standing now, and said…“Oh! Of course, you were thinking of her! Your darling, best friend Hermione!”

“I can't believe you! You're with your girlfriend!” She jabbed her fingers to his chest with every word. “And it's against the rules in a relationship to think of someone else while you're with your girlfriend. And most importantly, why weren't you listening to me?”

“You want me to listen?” He whispered tediously as he lost it, looking at Cho with piercing green eyes. “What about me? Did it ever cross your mind that I want you to listen to me, too?”

“Well, you never did seem to want to say anything.” Cho said haughtily, balancing herself on one foot, and crossing her arms over her chest.

“And that's an excuse for saying all the things you said?” Harry asked, disdain marked in his voice. “What about you? When was the last time you ever listened to me? Come of it, Cho, was there even a time you actually heard what I had to say?”

“Well, I never thought that you, the Boy-Who-Lived, would ever have problems since you were the one who defeated You-Know-Who's.” She said with a sneer, knowing that she had gotten through his nerve by calling him his supposed label.

Harry's jaw clenched. “Well, I think it's about time for you to know that this Boy-Who-Lived is also a human being who also has problems.”

“Is that so?” She said, clearly amused. “Like what?”

“Like I just found out that my best friend is in love with me and I'm finding it hard to choose between my girlfriend and her!” Harry blurted out in an intake of a breath.

Cho went still and looked taken aback. “What did you say?”

“You heard me.” Harry muttered, avoiding her gaze.

“And you're still thinking about it?” Cho said, incredulity evidently noticed in her flushed face; her reaction had gone as quickly as it had appeared. “What are you? Dense? Do you even need to think? I mean; your choice is clear, isn't it? I'm your girlfriend. There's nothing to think about.”

Harry absentmindedly looked at her with his intense jade oculars. He gazed at her from up and down, regretting the thought that the girl standing before him was completely different from the young woman he knew at Hogwarts. “Who are you?” He asked all of a sudden.

“I beg your pardon?” Cho asked, not knowing whether to be mad at him for saying something like that or laugh about it because he may be playing some kind of game.

“Who are you?” Harry repeated. “I don't know you anymore. You aren't the Cho I met.”

“What do you mean I'm not Cho?” She cried out. “I'm still Cho! I haven't changed.”

“Yes, you have…or maybe you haven't.” Then he crossed his arms and smiled an empty smile. “Yes, maybe you are still the same. Maybe I just didn't see it. Perhaps I was too busy loving, or rather--admiring--your appealing face that I didn't see who you really are.”

“Does this have anything to do with Granger?” Cho crossed her arms and balancing herself on one foot.

“No.” Harry said calmly. “Well, yes, maybe. I mean; thinking, not only of her but also of you, for the past few hours was enough for me to be reasonable and for the first time since we went out, I began seeing you in a different way. You've changed, Cho. You're not the modest and charming schoolgirl I thought I knew.”

He gave her an odd gaze and looked up at the sky. “And you know what? Thinking of Hermione made me realize what a great friend she is, but I never appreciated that. And instead of repaying her for the things she's done, all I did was give her so much pain and neglect that she doesn't deserve at all.”

“A great friend, yes.” She said, smirking and ignoring Harry's last sentence. “But when it comes as your potential girlfriend, her rating's zero. She's not suited for you.” Cho smirked. “Face it, Harry; I'm the most perfect girl you could ever find. I'm just the ideal type for you. You can't deny that.”

Harry had had enough. It was time to make a move. He breathed in and out, trying to control his voice from rising. “You're right. You are the most perfect girl for me. And…I want you to know, I've already made my decision.” Harry said. “As well as, I want to thank you for making it easy for me to choose.”

“Of course.” Cho smiled. “I mean, whom else would you want?” She tossed her hair in a feminine way and gave him a siren's smile. “Anyway, let's not talk about it again. I was just mad because you were thinking of someone else when you had no right since I am your girlfriend.”

Harry closed his eyes, pocketed his hands and sighed heavily. “Actually, I had no right because you were my girlfriend.”

“What do you mean `were'?” Cho asked, wide-eyed. “I'm still your girlfriend, Harry.”

“Who says you are?”

“Well, you've made your choice. You said so.”

“I have made my choice.” Harry said then he looked at her, a smile playing on his lips. He was having the time of his life teasing her, making her look like a pathetic two year old waiting for her Christmas present. “Whom do you think I chose?”

“Me--of course!” Cho gestured her hand towards her.

“What makes you so sure?”

Harry smiled charmingly and innocently.

“I chose Hermione.”

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After a few minutes, Hermione stood up. “I can't take this anymore. I want to travel now and the only thing that can keep me away from that potion is to keep me busy.” She complained.

“Ok, what if we check on the procedures again. That would clear your mind.” Ron suggested hopefully, looking up.

“It would be all right if we did, but I certainly would have done another thing, but ok.” Hermione took the book, scanned the pages, skipping the introduction of the traveling page and went right to the procedures.

After letting her eyes examine the words, she said verbally. “First, place the extract of the hydrangea bud and put the frothfrump ash mixed with the Argonian extract. (I think we did that right.) Next, add in the Cadmium Core, followed by pints of the grinded seeds of the Sequined Flower. Last, add the most essential part, the Aerotone. (All done correctly.) Mix it clockwise, 10 times, (Did I? Yes, I did, Ron. Don't make a face at me.) Let it boil for 5 minutes and then mix it again, this time, do it counterclockwise, 10 times. (Oh no! I did it only about 9 times! Just kidding!) Let it boil once more for 5 minutes and stir it again. Now, take note, when you mix it, 5 times clockwise and 5 times counterclockwise. Do not interchange. Counterclockwise must be preceded by the clockwise. (Ron, what do you mean by preceded by? I must have interchanged it.) And let it simmer for 30 minutes before drinking bottoms up.” Hermione read the book, nodding to Ron. “We did all of it correctly, no need to get nervous. What time is it?”

“It's 1:25.” Ron said as he gazed at his watch.

“It's nearly time.” Hermione breathed out.

“Yeah, it is.” He said as he watched her reach over for the goblet beside the potion. He looked in anticipation as she slowly got the ladle and dipped it into the small, black cauldron they had used in making the potion. She got a fair amount of the mixture and poured it into the goblet.

Not wanting to look at her more with feelings lurching inside him, he stood up. “I'm going to check if someone's outside.”

Hermione, in eagerness, only nodded, but Ron got the impression that she really didn't hear him. He got out after making sure that no one was standing just outside the door and ran over to the left side of the hallway. He looked around the corner and found no one there. That part of the hallway was deserted.

Then he turned around to check the other side of the corridor. As he walked swiftly, but quietly, towards the opposite part, he heard something. It was some sort of screeching, like someone running, then stopping. After that, he heard subdued sounds coming from just around the bend. What was it?

As he got closer to the other side, he heard loud thumps coming from just around its corner. When he reached the curve, he cast a sideways glance at the turning point and found himself stopping then hearing…

“Have you seen Hermione?”

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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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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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“And for the record, my name's not Harry.”

Hermione felt shivers run up her spine as the meaning of his words reached her brain and concluded something alarming. “What do you mean you're not Harry?” She asked, thoroughly aware of the goosebumps that were rapidly making their way all over her body.

“That's not who I am.” He repeated nonchalantly, sounding as if he didn't care that she called him by a different name.

“What do you mean you're not him? The nurse just called you `Mr. Potter'.” Hermione pointed out. Because only able to see his form, not his face, Hermione couldn't tell if he was telling the truth. However, she found it a bit puzzling and mystifying that Harry's built was clearly outlined on the person.

“Well, I do have that last name,” She heard the guy say. “Just not the name.”

Hermione could tell, by the sound of his voice, that he was annoyed and was clearly stating that he wanted to be somewhere else, not caring if there was a hint of bewilderment in her tone. She kept quiet for a moment, trying to think of reasons why the nurse called him Mr. Potter when according to this guy he wasn't.

It was an absurd and ironic matter and she couldn't think of anybody else, who could pretend such a thing but Harry--or Ron--but there was no way her red-headed friend could be in this, and if he was, then where was he?

Hence, the real question was, why was Harry doing this?

Hermione inhaled deeply and balled her fists at her side wanting to get out of bed and haul the hell out of him to make him stop playing tricks on her. But as of the moment, she didn't have the strength to do it, so she just decided to humor him. “If you're not Harry, then who are you?”

“My friends call me Cole.” He said tonelessly.

“Cole? What kind of a name is that?” Hermione scoffed, not being able to stop herself from doing so.

“It's short for Nicholas.” He finally supplied.

Nicholas? Hermione thought. I don't remember anyone named Nicholas from last year. Hermione doubled back. She can't believe Harry was doing this while she's helpless and immobilized to get back at him. She was about to say something irksome when another voice wafted in.

“Are you all right now?”

Hermione immediately searched for another form and saw that the nurse from a while ago had returned.

“Yes, I'm fine, miss…?” She hanged politely, obviously acquiring for her name.

“Raeford.” The nurse supplied helpfully.

“Nurse Raeford.” She finished, and then she added. “But I still can't see clearly.”

“Maybe taking a short nap would do wonders.” Miss Raeford suggested, then Hermione indistinctly saw her look at Cole who refused to call himself Harry and said, “Don't you have classes today, Mr. Potter?”

`Classes? It should be Friday, shouldn't it?' Hermione contrasted.

Cole shrugged and stood up. “I don't mind missing one, but I guess I should go.”

“Will you come back later?” Nurse Raeford asked hopefully before he could go out.

Cole shrugged and with one last sentence, went outside. “I suppose it wouldn't hurt.”

“That silly boy.” Nurse Raeford said crossly, but with a slight chuckle full of admiration, when Cole had left. “Always saving people.”

Hermione frowned slightly then looked up, “Um, excuse me?” she asked, suddenly feeling the need to know something. “But what do you mean by `always saving people?'”

“Why, don't you remember? He was the one who caught you when you fainted and carried you here.” Ms. Raeford explained with a dreamy smile. “That boy has a knack of rescuing damsels in distress, hasn't he? Takes after his ancestors, he does.” She said with a clap of her hand, but then she realized that she had strayed from the important matters and said, “Goodness! Never mind all that, you'll find out soon enough after taking a rest. You should get some sleep. Your eyesight may come back after you do.”

It wasn't what she was trying to find out but Hermione was too tired to carry on more of the conversation. She closed her eyes and did an imitation of drifting off to sleep. But her mockery didn't last even for 5 full minutes because sooner than she thought, the burdens of the past couple of days suddenly weighed down on her and all the emotions she has been feeling crumbled all over her, causing her pretend rest to turn into a deep, actual slumber.

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“What do you mean?” Harry asked; his eyes suddenly bloodshot.

“She's…she's lost.” Ron answered meekly, not knowing what to say.

“Lost? What do you mean? Lost where?” Harry asked, his voice echoing as it hit the ceiling and boomed back at them.

“I don't know.” Ron said simply.

“What do you mean you don't know?” He shouted as he gripped the boy's shoulders and held on tightly. “Ron, you were with her!”

“I don't know!” Ron shouted back, his voice breaking. “We were talking, and then I went to see if anybody was near enough to hear us. And I stayed outside for a while because I didn't want to see her hovering over that potion. But then you came, and…and…” He broke off, not being able to continue.

“And now she's gone!” Harry snapped at him impatiently. “Why is she lost?”

“She must have taken the potion a minute before the right time.”

“How do you know that?”

“She should be just taking it now,” Ron explained looking at his watch. “She didn't have any watch with her so I reckoned she just assumed it was all right to drink it and she did--without waiting for me.

“Assumed?” Harry spitted out venomously. “Hermione doesn't assume. She's always sure of what she does!”

“She usually is whenever she's patient.” Ron pointed out. “But this time she wasn't because it was something she's been waiting for all day.”

Harry's eyes glimmered knowingly and then surprisingly, his voice softened. “D-do you know how we can find her?”

Ron shook his head.

Harry raked his hand through his hair and looked up.

It was his fault.

It was his damn fault! If he had noticed earlier how he felt for her, Hermione wouldn't have thought of this idea. And to think that he even didn't want her to find out he knew about her feelings for him. And it was too late to realize that it would have made a difference if he told her he knew.

And now, she's lost somewhere. No contact with them, no knowledge of where she was--no nothing. Will she be able to get back? What would he tell her parents and the professors when she doesn't appear in their commencement day? He couldn't lie to them. He knew that even if he did, they'd be able to see right through him, especially Dumbledore.

Harry blinked.

Professor Dumbeldore!

“Ron!” Harry exclaimed.

Ron suddenly looked up from where he was staring at and bore his eyes into his. “What?” He asked solemnly.

“We can ask for Prof. Dumbeldore's help.”

“But--but--he'll know we've sneaked into Snape's and his office and--and--gone out in the middle of the night and--put our lives in danger…” Ron stuttered, his face shockingly white.

“He won't get mad. Disappointed, maybe…” Harry admitted, nevertheless continued. “But not mad. He won't hold it against us. And it's better than doing nothing, isn't it?”

Ron looked at Harry who was gaping at him expectantly. There was something different from the way he was looking at him. Why was he here? He wanted to ask. Why was he looking for Hermione? How come he knew where to find them? And if Hermione would have still been here when he had arrived, what would have taken place?

Before he could even muster the courage to ask these questions to Harry, he caught a glimpse of Tome Aloc Lution still lying askew on the floor where he had dropped it a moment ago and was constantly reminded that Hermione was in some other place she may not know, making him realize it was not the time to ask such things.

With a look of hesitance, he began arranging the ingredients and the materials on the floor. Once he was done, he cast a spell onto them to make them return to their proper place in Hermione's trunk in the Girls' Dormitory and with a small puff, the equipments vanished, leaving no trace that the stall had been used for potion making. As he finished that task, he stood up and held out a shrug. “I don't have a choice, do I? Let's go.”

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Hermione stirred and then yawned. Somehow, she felt more energetic now and more alive. She opened her eyes and felt relief seep through her as soon as she found out that her clear vision had returned. She could see very plainly now. Nurse Raeford had been right; her nap had done wonders.

Nurse Raeford.

Who is she?

And where was Madame Pomfrey?

Hermione hadn't been in the Hospital Wing the year before except for the time when Harry had been confined in it (because of the battle with Voldemort) and she was certain that Madame Pomfrey was there.

Maybe Miss Raeford was just a replacement for the school's nurse because she's just gone out for a while. But even as she thought of it as a possibility, she was in no way convinced it would turn out that way. Madame Pomfrey never left while classes were still going on and there wasn't a time that she ever left while on duty.

And who was that boy from a while ago? How come he was so much like Harry in built and voice? She wasn't sure if she believed that he was not really Harry because who else would have the courage to play a trick on her but him, aside from Ron?

She tossed her head to the right and nearly cried out in surprise as she saw the boy, from a while ago, resting while sitting on a chair beside her bed.

She was certain that he was `Cole' because she heard him say to Nurse Raeford earlier that he'd probably be back and who else would know she was there? And as she continued to let her eyes travel over him, she found herself almost hearing that raven-black disheveled hair of his screaming his identity as a Potter. And although he was sitting down, Hermione could estimate that he was the same height of Harry's.

His face bore the same distinct jaws that had been constantly clenching lately. And as her eyes moved lower, it passed and then settled on the mouth that was shaped to bear a very childish grin, and, at times, a very charming pout.

Hermione soon found herself fuming as she realized that Harry had certainly played a joke on her saying he wasn't himself because he was every bit a Harry Potter could be.

She was about to say something when a wave of dizziness passed her, causing her to close her eyes and groan in surprise. While eyes still shut, there was a sudden movement from the chair beside her and she presumed that Harry had heard her and had woken up.

Thinking to give him a piece of her mind, she immediately opened her eyes to surprise him, but only to be the one astonished as she found herself staring at the coldest pair of brown eyes she had ever laid eyes on.

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“And that's what happened.” Ron concluded, facedown on the floor, not able to look at Prof. Dumbledore's straight in the eye. He was, after all, ashamed that he had been an accomplice of breaking the rules. It wasn't as if he hasn't ever broken any before, but it was different this time, having to confess all of it to him.

But even as Ron had finished, Dumbledore still remained quiet and immobile, his half-moon spectacles glinting as he arranged them on the crook of his nose

Harry, meanwhile, was busy staring off into space, with a feeling of mixed nervousness and annoyance as Dumbledore took his time in probing Ron with his nerve-wrecking gaze. He wanted to point out that as he was doing this, Hermione could be crying at the moment with no idea on where she was and was desperate to return to her own time. This thought brought churns in his stomach and somehow, it was sensed by the old professor because he had suddenly cleared his throat.

“I have no doubt that you know what you've done is extremely serious, Mr. Weasley.” He began, and then he folded his hands together and laid it on his desk. “However, I have a suspicion that you weren't thinking when you helped Ms. Granger get hold of that potion.” He paused and watched as Ron nodded his head in acknowledgement.

“I do not need to express how I feel about this, as you knew that I wouldn't be pleased with what has happened. But having to deal with such--incidences--for the past decades taught me that brooding over what happened in the past is not worthwhile for what had taken place had already ensued, and there is no way we could change it.” He stopped once more to weigh the next meaning of his following words. “This is something Ms. Granger should have comprehended initially before she made that certain move.”

After a long pause, he continued. “And now, you come here, asking for my help, hoping that somehow, I would know how to bring her back. Although I want to correct the mistake she did as much as you do, I'm afraid I am not the right one to do that.”

Ron's eyes suddenly went wide and his face suddenly lost what's left of its color. “Y-you're…you're not? What do you mean?”

Dumbledore sighed and shook his head sadly. “I'm afraid that I can't do anything since I am not to meddle with another time that is not mine.”

“So what happens to Hermione? How will she be able to return without our help?” Ron suddenly asked.

Dumbledore smiled feebly at him and held up one finger. “Just a moment, Mr. Weasley. I didn't fully say I don't know how to help her.”

Ron suddenly felt lightheaded and relief swept through him. “So you do know a way to locate her!”

“More or less,” Dumbledore opposed. “But I only know how to reach her.”

“But how would we get her back?”

“That is not something we can do.”

“How come? And what if she doesn't know how to help herself?”

“She's a smart girl. She'll know a way out of the hole she has dug up.”

Having heard this, Ron suddenly turned to the nearly lifeless figure of the staring-into-empty-space Harry, who had been seated mutely beside him for a while. “What about you, Harry?”

Harry snapped out of his senses and looked at Ron with questioning eyes. “What about me?”

“Aren't you going to help her?”

“Why--I mean--how? Prof. Dumbledore told you she has to get out of the hole she has dug up herself.”

“So?” Ron asked.

“What do you mean `so'?” Harry asked. “As much as I want to find her as badly as you do, I can't. I didn't dig the hole, she did.”

“Yes, well,” Ron muttered numbly before slouching back on the chair. “You handed her the shovel.”

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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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Ignoring the pain throbbing in her head, Hermione instantly bolted up from the bed and blurted out, looking at the guy staring back at her with lazy brown eyes. "Who are you?"

The boy looked at her smugly as he sat comfortably on the chair again, not bothering to ask if she was all right. "Do you have short term memory loss or you just like the sound of my name?"

"What?" Hermione asked unbelievably.

"You seem to be forgetting things within a short span of time." The guy explained, telling her, more than words, that he thought she was playing a joke on him.

"I'm not playing games here." Hermione stated knowingly. "I just have a lot of things in my mind."

"Sure, whatever you say." The guy exasperated a breath. "Cole."

"Cole--that's short for Nicholas, isn't it?" Hermione asked hurriedly.

Cole simply laughed a humorless laugh. "That's what I've been called since I was a kid."

"Who named you?"

"My parents. I look so much like my who-knows-how great grandfather, but with the exception of his eyes, that my dad insisted on naming me after him."

"Why?" Hermione asked. "What color were your grandfather's eyes?"

"Green."

Hermione frowned, and then her heart thumped madly. "Green?"

"Yes, green. Why?"

"Nothing." She said, a little firmer than necessary.

"You know what," Cole said frigidly, "Since you've been asking me who I am since this afternoon, I think it's my turn to ask you who you are."

"You don't know me?" Hermione gasped salaciously.

Cole looked at her coolly, not a slight trace of amusement on his face. "Am I supposed to know?"

She opened her mouth to speak, and then stopped.

After telling her who he was, Hermione had been sure that this guy was an impostor, and a really good one for that matter, playing a trick on her because he had said he was a Potter when everybody else knows that Harry is the last Potter alive. So was it safe to say her true identity to someone she didn't know? "Noelle Sheldon." She finally said, saying the first name that came to her mind, the name that belonged to her neighbors' daughter at home.

Cole shrugged. "What house are you in? Oh, wait. I suppose new students like you need to be sorted first. So have you been under the Sorting Hat, yet?"

She froze amidst his sentence and gaped at him, not sure if what she heard was right. "New student?"

"You are, aren't you?" Cole asked, uncertainly, eyeing her with exasperation.

"What makes you think so?"

"I've never seen you before."

"I don't understand." She stated numbly. "Never seen me before? What are you talking about? Surely you have heard of me and my best friends--don't you think you've seen me once and just have forgotten about me?"

He shook his head and calmly said, "If I saw you before, I wouldn't have bothered going back tonight cause I'm sure your 'friends' would have visited you. So, if you haven't been sorted yet, I guess you'll be tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Hermione repeated numbly and suddenly blurted out. "What day is it tomorrow?"

"Tuesday." He said matter-of-factly.

Hermione looked relieved--but only for a moment, because she disturbingly remembered something disconcerting. The day she was supposed to be in if the potion had worked was Friday--so how come it was a Monday?

Unless--unless she was still in her own time and the potion hadn't really worked. But what about the girl in the bathroom? Who was she and where were Harry and Ron if she was still in the present? Deciding to end her personal queries, Hermione took a deep breath and spoke shakily. "What year?"

Nicholas shot her a look of pure speculation and said. "From what place did you come from?"

'From the dimension of the deluded?' Hermione thought sarcastically, thinking that she might as well be considered deliriously incapacitated because she was already occupied with uncertainty at the moment to be considered sane. She sighed and said crossly. "Just answer the question."

"2104." Cole replied casually, crossing his arms, slouching even more, if that was even possible, on his chair.

'2104? Oh, God!' Her eyes immediately grew alarmed. 'Where am I? Who is this guy?'

Cole straightened eyeing her face warily as it got paler and paler by the second. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No, I don't think so." She breathed out when she could, feeling weak and terrified.

"I'll get Nurse Raeford." He said as he stood up.

"Wait!" The word was torn away from her mouth before she could stop herself. "I mean--before you go--can you please tell me how you are related with Harry Potter?"

"Took you long enough, didn't it?" He muttered profoundly. "I'm his descendant."

"Um, professor?" Ron asked numbly as he stared at the aged mentor pacing back and forth in his office.

"Is there something in your mind that you want to ask me, Mr. Weasley?" He stopped and flickered his eyes over to him, his spectacles glinting as the light of the room hit it.

"Yes, I do, sir." Ron replied courteously, which was completely diverting and satirical to the next words that came from his mouth. "How much longer is this going to take?"

"Time is a very imperative matter, Ronald. We cannot just cut through it without waiting for the precise moment." He paused then looked at Harry, who in turn gazed at him with a puckered brow. "I know that I don't need to inform you once more about Ms. Granger's proficiency in Witchcraft for she has already proven it countless of times by now, but I still daresay she is an exceptionally outstanding witch and her will to go back in time must have really been strong as she had managed to cross the threshold of the time zone without a good deal of difficulty. And it would be incredibly good chance for her if she had alighted herself into a set in the place of her own time."

"In the place of her own time?" Harry asked, taking a swig of the Pumpkin Juice he had been offered.

"Close to her own." Dumbledore explained.

"How close?" Ron inquired.

"A few millenniums." Professor Dumbledore informed nonchalantly.

Harry, in surprise of the unexpected answer, accidentally sputtered out the Pumpkin Juice in surprise, while Ron's jaws dropped in awe.

"A millennium! Bloody hell! Oh excuse the language, sir. A millennium?" Ron repeated.

"Hermione couldn't have gotten that far! Or had she? But, what if she's only a millennium away, or maybe even closer, how would that help us?"

"The paranormal resonance bearing that we are to conduct can pass through the corridors of time with no trouble within a close range--as that of a millennium." Prof. Dumbledore said as he read the Tome Aloc Lution Ron gave him. "So, if Ms. Granger landed in a time only less than a thousand years away, we may be able to communicate with her easily."

"And what happens when we communicate with her?" Harry asked, suddenly hanging on to every word the headmaster was saying.

"Well, naturally, ask if she's unharmed, tell her the miscalculations she had committed…and," He paused, staring intently at the page where the potion for traveling through time was. "…the admonitions she had missed to read in the book."

Harry leaned in as different sentiments (surprise, worry and confusion) began playing inside him--not to mention incredulity as he couldn't believe he hadn't already exploded with the so many emotions suddenly churning in him. "Admonitions?" He asked.

"As I said, until we communicate with her."

"But sir, would it hurt to tell us…"

"No, it wouldn't, Mr. Weasley. But it would be much better if the three of you hear it together." Dumbledore interrupted and said no more; a sign that he wouldn't be convinced to do otherwise.

Harry disappointedly slumped back on the chair while Ron buried his face in his hands, thinking how stupid he could have been, not seeing whatever those warnings were.

"Are you feeling all right now, Noelle?" Nurse Raeford asked her, her voice full of concern.

Hermione looked at her with an amused grin and sparkling eyes that caught Cole off guard. "I'm not feeling sick anymore, but I'm in no mood to dance yet."

Cole frowned in bewilderment on why Hermione seemed very familiar to him. Leaning back on the chair once more, he watched in awe as the efficient nurse buzzed around Hermione's bed professionally, giving her as much comfort as possible.

Before she went away, Ms. Raeford turned to Cole and said crossly. "You shouldn't be here at this late hour and neither should your friends."

"My friends?" He asked, confused.

"Before you called me, Mr. Potter, your friends had arrived and I couldn't let them in without Ms. Sheldon's permission. But with you practically standing there, waiting for me to go look at our patient, I couldn't tell you that they were there."

"Oh." Cole said, a grin slowly making its way across his attractive face, causing Hermione to stare at the perfect set of white teeth he had revealed for the first time. "It wouldn't be too late to let them in now, would it?"

"I'm afraid it is. Ms. Sheldon needs a rest."

"No." Hermione countered almost too quickly and added. "I mean--I should have some company right now, since I'm new and everything."

Seeing that she was quite right about that, Nurse Raeford said with a dignified poise. "Well, I'll give you 10 minutes." Then she added sternly, "And don't tell me it's too short because that's the best I can give."

"Oh, no. I don't think it's too short." Hermione said truthfully, thinking about Madame Pomfrey, who only provided 5 minutes as time for visiting Harry whenever he was in the Hospital Wing.

That thought suddenly brought her back to her current situation. Her shock had mellowed to slight alarm as soon as the nurse had given her medication, but the thought that she was a century away from her own time didn't leave her calm at all.

For whatever reason she didn't know, the potion had backfired, sending her into the future instead of to the past. But whatsoever explanation about the rebounding of her concoction was the last thing on her mind right now. Hermione knew her worst problem was how she would be able to go back to her own time without knowing the procedures of that mixture. Sure she remembered the ingredients, but she couldn't recall, no matter how hard she tried, the steps in making that potion.

The book, Tome Aloc Lution, would be impossible to find, since it could've been hidden after being used or passed on from one person to another after a hundred years.

So all in all, her chances of getting back to Ron and Harry were a hundred to 20, maybe even only 10. But as three persons appeared before her, grins flashing in her direction, Hermione pushed these thoughts away and forced a smile.

Two of them, a girl and a boy had flaming red hair. There was a modicum amount of freckles that could be found on the bridge of their noses that both stuck up identically. Their lips were slightly thin and their eyes were mirror images of the color of sapphires. It was pretty obvious to her that these two were twins and it was also as clear as crystal to her that they were the descendants of Ron, or his siblings.

She smiled back at them meekly and turned to the other person who came with them. She was a bit startled as her gaze flew instantly to the flaxen, sleek hair of a very good-looking boy who seemed to be shouting through his blue eyes the name Malfoy.

She doubled back.

A Malfoy, side by side with a Potter and two Weasleys? She never thought she'd see the day that his kin would accept the families, Potter and Weasley. Hermione mentally laughed as she thought of what Harry and Ron would think once she tells them what she found out, if ever she will have the chance to that is.

She shrugged away the feelings that were evoked by that thought and instead, wondered when their conciliation happened--and if it took place between Harry, Ron and Draco.

Cole's slightly soft voice interrupted her probing and motioned to the three people. "This is Erin (jabbing his thumb at the back, to the girl) and Shawn Weasley (then to the guy). Alex Malfoy (nodding towards Draco's descendant), my best friend."

"Hello." Alex greeted her first, his gaze sending goosebumps on her skin as he smiled at her warmly.

Hermione didn't know how to react at first. Perhaps it was the knowledge that Malfoy had always taunted her for being who she was that made her hesitant to extend out a grin at the boy who was probably too nice to be a Malfoy. But she couldn't help but offer her hand to him and hope he would take it and he did.

But as soon as Alex had let go of her, Shawn pushed him aside and winked at her with a very wide smile, showing his ancestor's (Fred and George's) exuberance. Hermione smiled back at him, but only to expose a very wide grin when Erin stepped in front of her brother and smiled sweetly at her while Shawn looked incredulously at his sister.

She instantly liked the Weasley twins, and was a bit surprised that she was in favor of Alex, too. But what unnerved her was the way Nicholas was behaving towards her. He was very cold and distant. And although Harry was also this way at times, he still couldn't alike Cole with him. As she continued to ponder on this, she consistently gazed at the new visitors as they all pulled up a chair and joined Cole beside her bed.

"So what house do you think you'll be in?" Shawn casually built a conversation when the moment's silence among them had passed.

"Gryf-…" Hermione paused. "I don't know yet."

"I hope you're in Gryffindor." Erin said with a sigh.

"I hope so, too." She said. Then with a slight smile, she added. "But you know, I think Slytherin wouldn't be too bad. At least there, I'll be safe from the hands of redheaded twin terrors."

Erin and Shawn stared at her at this proclamation, incredibly surprised at her familiarity, while Alex suddenly regarded her with amusement, as she didn't feel any timidity towards them.

Cole, however, looked at her with a frowning expression, vaguely stating he wasn't as ready to like her as his friends were.

"Where did you come from?" Alex asked out of the blue.

Hermione blanked out for a second. She had no background to tell them except the truth, but she couldn't tell them that since she was at risk of being discovered.

"I was born in England." She decided to stick as close to the truth as possible, but lied about almost everything. "But my family moved to America when I was just 5 years old. When the Wizarding School I was studying in got closed down because of some unknown reason, we moved back here and they entered me in Hogwarts."

"So in the middle of the year, they just closed it down without thinking of the students?" Cole asked skeptically.

"I guess so." She answered with a slight squeak, which, thankfully, wasn't noticed by anybody.

"Do you have any brothers or sisters?" Shawn asked.

"If I had any, then you would be seeing him or her here, wouldn't you?" She countered good-naturedly. Erin chuckled as her brother grinned smugly at Hermione.

"Excuse me…" Another voice interrupted their talk. "I hate to interrupt this lovely banter, but it's close to 9 in the evening and you must be getting off to beds."

"Oh, is 10 minutes up already?" Hermione asked, looking directly at the nurse.

"I don't believe so," Nurse Raeford put in. "But they have to go because the headmistress wants to see you."

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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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"Good evening."

Hermione, though aware that the headmistress of Hogwarts was seeking her out, had still been startled by the sound that came from just a few feet away. Jerking her head to the left, she saw a middle-aged woman walking promptly but carefully towards her bed.

In her apprehension for what was to happen next, Hermione suddenly found herself studying the appearance of her soon inquirer and oddly enough, a jolt of familiarity went through her. The headmistress of Hogwarts looked nearly exactly like her Transfiguration professor. With her brown hair twisted neatly into a knot at the back of her head and a stern look looming about her face, the resemblance she had with Prof. McGonagall was greatly pronounced.

The woman's vivid blue eyes, which were seemingly giving off interest and curiosity in her direction, were concealed behind tetragonal rimmed glasses. And her mouth, which was set into a sternly, thin line a while ago, was now twitching up on each of the corners, starting to portray a friendly smile.

She was wearing dark mahogany robes that fell loosely around her while her hands, which were at her back, were carrying something that Hermione couldn't see, much too enthralled by the scrutiny of the approaching woman to even try to find out what it was.

Deciding that she had prolonged her response longer than necessary, Hermione finally opened her mouth to speak and greeted.

"Good evening to you as well, ma'am." She said courteously; although calmness was the last thing she was feeling at the moment, she still tried to depict the self-confidence she was known for in school.

"My name is Eleanor Warren, I'm the headmistress of--I won't mince words, Ms. Sheldon--I'll go straight to the point. From what I understand, you were brought here by Nicholas Potter after passing out this afternoon. After which, he and his friends visited you, all the while thinking you are a new student, about to be sorted. But, as I am not only the headmistress but the keeper of records as well, I am entitled to see every record a new student has upon entering Hogwarts. And I am confused and worried to say, Ms. Sheldon, you have no records with me and I was not informed of your arrival. In addition to this, I feel there is another reason why you are here and there is something I'm not wholly seeing. So would you mind telling me what these things are?"

Hermione, who up until now had been very quiet, avoided Prof. Warren's probing gaze and instead, settled her eyes on her hands that were folded on her lap. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but, I'd rather not talk about it. It's a bit complicated and I don't know if I'd be able to recount it with you as of this moment."

Hermione bit her lip as she spoke the last word and looked up. Was it right for her not to confess everything when she knows that she needs the help of the headmistress?

"Very well, then." Came the reply of Prof. Warren with a nod and an almost too friendly smile. "If you are not ready to tell me, I respect that. But I want it understood that I don't intend to keep my restraint from asking about it some time or another. And I hope that when that time comes, you will be ready to say whatever it is you want to keep for yourself now. Would that be all right?"

Having no other choices to decide on, she sighed. "Yes, ma'am."

"Oh, before you go to bed, there is one thing you must do to get started on tomorrow's classes and move into your dormitory." Prof. Warren said, reaching behind her and bringing out the Sorting Hat.

Hermione perked her nose in a sort of dignified way and almost scoffed as if showing she already knew what it was for and stopped in midair as she fully realized that it might be one of the tests on finding out who she really was, so she pretended to be curious and asked how she was to use it.

Prof. Warren smiled knowingly and explained what it was for. After she did, Hermione put it on and stared once more at the dark confines of the insides of the Sorting Hat that she had faced some 7 years before.

After a moment of stillness, the voice of the sorting hat said in her ear, unknowingly sending shivers up her spine.

"Have my senses become enervated

Or are you really the Hermione Granger some century that exceeded…?"

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"Excuse me, Professor." Ron interrupted for the 5th time in an hour.

Harry looked up at Ron then to the old man who was now seated on his chair and was scanning the pages of a book that he had taken out of his room a few minutes prior to the present.

Harry found it a bit surprising and admiring that Prof. Dumbledore had taken it upon himself to answer Ron patiently whenever he inquired whatever was on his mind. Because if he was the one bombarded with questions every 10 minutes or so, he would have been cross and would have driven his disturber away.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley?" Dumbledore answered in a calm way.

"If you don't mind my asking--again--what is that book for?" Ron fidgeted, obviously aware of the probable annoyance Prof. Dumbledore was feeling for him at the moment.

"This is a book that has been with me for as long as I can remember. I haven't had much use for it. But I kept it in my room for future use. I never thought that I would have assistance for it one day, until now." Dumbledore explained; looking up as he did then looked down once more when he had finished.

"But what's it for?" Ron asked, not being able to stop himself, but then he reddened and bowed his head. "Sorry, sir."

Prof. Dumbledore merely chuckled at this and said as his eyes twinkled. "Your care for Ms. Granger far exceeds my expectations, Mr. Weasley. I understand your eagerness to bring her back and I don't want you to hesitate on asking me about anything that comes into your mind, as long as it has something to do with our current predicament. Furthermore, to get it done immediately, kindly limit them at only 2 times every half hour or so."

Ron smiled good-naturedly. "Yes, sir."

"But it doesn't take two to notice how someone else in this room is being very silent…" Prof. Dumbledore put in, glancing knowingly at Harry.

Harry glanced up guiltily and shifted in his seat. "I just don't know what to say, sir. I only found out about this last night."

"But you do know that you are not here because you care for your best friend, don't you?" Prof. Dumbledore probed.

"Y-yes, I do, sir." Harry admitted embarrassedly, knowing what the old man was pertaining to and not having the strength, or heart, to deny it any longer.

"What do you mean, 'he's not here because he doesn't care about Hermione', professor?" Ron asked.

"I believe it is Mr. Potter you have to talk to about that." Prof. Dumbledore said with a warm smile. With a wave of his hand, two cushioned chairs appeared at the corner of the room with enough distance from hearing range, giving them ample privacy to talk. He motioned for Harry and Ron to go there and begin a conversation about what Harry's senses had been blaring for release.

Ron glanced at Harry warily and hopefully, quietly anticipating that he would tell him about what he and Prof. Dumbledore had an understanding on. To his relief, Harry stood up and was the first to go to the private space and sat down, slouching while massaging his forehead with his thumb and index finger.

Ron followed suit and stared at his best friend as he too sat down, scrutinizing him the way he has never done in the 7 years they were together. "I'll cut to the chase, Harry…" He said in a hoarse and tired voice. "What were you and Prof. Dumbledore talking about?"

"I don't care about Hermione like everyone thinks I do." Harry said simply as if it explained everything Ron was contemplating and having silent conflicts with.

Ron's eyes crossed the moment he heard this. "What are you talking about, Harry?" He hissed and gripped the arm of the chair tightly. "I've noticed the way you look at her and the way you fret about her. What makes you think I'm going to believe what you're saying?"

"I'm not asking you to believe I don't care for her. I'm asking you to believe that I don't just love her…" Harry paused, then closed his eyes and braced himself for the next racket that would erupt from Ron once he tells him what he was about to say next, "I'm in love with her."

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"Good morning, class." The sharp and authoritative voice of the head of the Gryffindor house, Miranda Caldor, emitted from the entranceway of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom that caused the chatting groups of people to stop their talks and finally submerge into their respective seats.

The professor, whose age was of 35 summers in life, waited for the students to be comfortable in their chairs before she announced the news that she had with her that day.

When they were finally looking up at her with their seventeen-year old eyes, she cleared her throat and smiled at them. "I know it's in the middle of the school year and it would seem a bit late for others to come in and study after half the school curriculum have been finished, but owing to the circumstances that are still unknown to most of the faculty members, we are to welcome a new apprentice amidst us as another Gryffindor Housemate. Please welcome your new companion, Noelle Sheldon."

With that, she swiftly went to the entrance and stayed there, half her body leaning outside to motion Hermione to go in the classroom. Hermione bit her lip in nervousness, a condition she didn't have to feign, and smoothed her robes.

Her encounter with the Sorting Hat, who had a very astonishing and intelligent memory, still hung over her like a phobia because of the thought that she had been nearly close to being caught the previous night.

If she hadn't asked, or rather pleaded, in her mind, for the Sorting Hat to just announce that she was in Gryffindor, like she really was in her own time, it would have asked questions aloud, giving the headmistress liberal freedom to hear and she wouldn't have been able to answer them without telling the truth.

After a lot of convincing, the Sorting Hat had finally given in and announced out loud her house for Prof. Warren to hear. Subsequent to that, the headmistress had began to leave the room with a slight reminder of her promise and a prompt that if she was well enough the next day, she would be attending her classes.

And before the headmistress finally left, she magically transformed a list of books she would need, her lessons with their respective teachers and the location of the rooms they were to be conducted in and finally exited, leaving Hermione to dwell on her problems alone and suffer a night full of questions and disturbances.

When she woke up the next day, she had realized instantly that she was sufficiently fine to attend her courses and had thought of a spell she once learned on how to transform own belongings from just a list made on paper.

Hermione took out her wand, feeling relieved that she had the sense of bringing it with her, and muttered an incantation. Within a few seconds, she had magically materialized a new set of robes, quills, books, cauldron, casual daywear, and whatever things she knew she was in short of using the list she had written before she performed the enchantment.

After that, she quickly searched for the nurse and found her busily recording students' data in her office and asked where she could bathe herself. Nurse Raeford directed her to the farthest area of the Hospital Wing and opened a concealed door where there was a shower and some bathing paraphernalia inside.

She quickly took a bath, dressed herself neatly, grabbed all the things she needed and before she knew it, she was already standing outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, which was the classroom of Prof. Binns in her own time, waiting for Prof. Caldor, whom she had met on the way, to introduce her to the class where she would be meeting her temporary, maybe permanent, housemates and schoolmates.

With a deep breath, Hermione entered the classroom, feeling the eyes of all the students on her, scrutinizing and judging the way she appeared and the way she walked.

She stopped in front and eyed the students she was being presented to. Before she opened her mouth to speak, she gathered all the coolness she could muster and spoke in what she hoped was a calm way.

"Good morning."

At first, no one answered. Apparently, some were busy watching her to bother responding to her greeting, and others, had started murmuring little conversations regarding her. But after a long and stony silence, 3 people greeted her with gaiety and conviviality. Three people…with three familiar voices…

As soon as she recognized these tones, she immediately searched for them. And sure enough, she was soon staring at the features of the four persons she had met the previous night and found herself smiling with appreciation and relief.

The professor, seeing that she was on gracious terms with the Weasley twins and Alex Malfoy, indicated that she was to sit beside them and gave the four, including Nicholas who was looking rather bored, the task of showing her around so she would grow accustomed to the castle.

Hermione smirked mentally at this. Those whom would think that even after spending 7 years at Hogwarts she wouldn't be familiar with the place by now was seriously deranged, for she, along with Harry and Ron, were probably the only students, aside from Fred and George, who knew every single passages at Hogwarts, secret and not.

Barely noticing that the others were gaping at her unexpected closeness to the three, Hermione kept her smile intact as she made her way towards the only seat near them that was unoccupied, which was beside Nicholas'.

Hermione slid her bag at the side of the chair and sat down, preparing to listen to the given lecture, only to be sidetracked when Shawn and Erin suddenly leaned in and talked to her.

"Are you all right now, Noelle?" Shawn asked, nudging his sister aside to be able to see her.

She nodded and acknowledged him with nothing but a smile.

"That's good." Erin put in.

"Thank you." Hermione grinned, unable to concentrate on her paying attention to the teacher in front.

"Welcome to Gryffindor." With a certain gleam in his eyes, Alex winked at her, a gesture some girls in the room saw, causing Hermione to feel the hair at the back of her neck to stand as they threw death glares at her. "I'm very pleased you're in our house."

Ignoring them, Hermione nodded, smiled and went back to her intent listening, but only to feel, a moment much too soon, someone's eyes glancing momentarily on her but fleeting once more on the teacher.

Ever since the day before, Nicholas kept on feeling twinges every time his eyes rested on Noelle Sheldon. He couldn't understand what they were and he wasn't sure if it was right looking into it further, but he was really feeling a strong sense of curiosity on what it was and what was causing it. It wasn't merely attraction, but a more different feeling, associated with an invisible, magnetic force pulling them together.

Nicholas shook his head and concentrated instead to Prof. Caldor just in time to hear her ask a question. "What is the Dredoneum Curse?"

As he waited for the teacher to have no choice but call his name, Nicholas smiled involuntarily, not noticing that just that simple motion caused some of the female divisions in the room to glance his way.

He shifted his sitting position and slouched, still waiting. He had always been accustomed in being the student frequently winning their house points since he seemed to be the only one who had been able to fit studying into his schedule aside from his best friend, Alex Malfoy, who was next to Nicholas in academic excellence.

However, Alex had different goals than what Nicholas had and that was winning the Quidditch Cup. Now, this was something Nicholas wasn't intent on getting, although he plays for the Gryffindor Team, he wasn't really that much of a fan. Besides, he only tried out for the team because Alex had literally begged him to do so and since he hadn't only inherited his ancestor's appearance but also his reflexive skills, the spot was given to him right away.

And so far, since the year that the four, including Erin and Shawn, had tried out for the vacant Quidditch positions, Seeker and 3 Chasers, the team had constantly won almost all the matches. They've been The Quidditch Champion for 4 years now and Alex, being the Gryffindor Team Captain, wanted to make sure that they win the Quidditch Cup before they leave Hogwarts.

Crossing his arms, Nicholas looked once more at the teacher intently, as if telling her with his eyes that he was prepared to answer her question. But then, to his mild surprise, he heard her call another name, a name that belonged to the girl seated beside him. He turned and stared in astonishment as Noelle began to talk.

"A Dredoneum Curse is a panic-indulger used as an offensive blight, usually conjured during duels. It is an invisible barrier that envelops the opponent and temporarily portrays in his vision a time and environment that differs from his own, thus momentarily creating fright to the being inside the barricade. In this particular barrier, the person inside loses his ability to think sensibly, destabilizing him to produce charms to get himself out, giving his opponent time to conjure an attack." Hermione finished with a slight pert in her tone.

"Well done, Ms. Sheldon, you obviously had done some reading in your old school. 15 points to Gryffindor." She said with an astounded tone in her voice and then searched once more in the crowd as she asked another question. "And what is the incantation comprised in this charm?"

"Admitre Sealor." Nicholas answered plainly not waiting for his name to be called even as he raised his hand.

"That's correct, Mr. Potter. 10 points to Gryffindor." Ms. Caldor nodded and faced the crowd to elaborate further on the Dredoneum Curse. "Like what Ms. Sheldon had said, inside the barricade of the Dredoneum Curse is a magic that pampers with the rationalized thinking of a person so as to give an opening for attack to his opponent."

She paused and walked over to the left side of the room and spoke once more. "Now, a Dredoneum Curse can only be conjured by one of the parties of a duel so it may either be good and bad for you, depending on whoever will be the first to use it. In your case, if you conjure a Dredoneum Curse first, it's a score in your part. But, if your opponent was the one who produced it before you did, you will find it hard to create another offensive attack. So, you must know not only how to create this kind of spell, but also know how to destroy it; thus there's no worrying on what will happen. There is one specific spell that can destroy it, but only those whom have advanced knowledge regarding this have the ability to use it. Any spell would do, just as long as they are strong enough to break a tough membrane as the Dredoneum Curse." She concluded.

Then she looked at them jovially and clapped her hands. "As part of your curriculum, you will have to practice on how to defend yourself against the Dredoneum Curse. So, each of you will come here in front and try to break the barrier I am to create around you. There's no need to fit worry in yourselves, because I will not attack you once you're under my spell. We'll just try and find out if you are capable of destroying the enchantment." She said then looked at the group of people that started darting out of sight, trying to avoid her scrutiny.

"Let's see, I shall pick first--ah! Mr. Dunsinane, please come up front." She said cheerily. "When I conjure the curse, you will feel panic emit inside you and you will probably lose all the ability to think rationally. Your main goal is to try and find a way to penetrate through this barrier and break it in record time--"

The next words of Ms. Caldor evaporated into thin air as Hermione's thoughts drifted for a moment to the years of practicing and learning she had spent with Harry in producing the Patronus Charm that the Dredoneum Curse had made her remember abruptly.

After a long training with Harry as her teacher, she had finally managed to create a perfectly shaped Patronus that really charged Dementors down. Her Patronus was a beautiful unicorn and had been helpful to them with their battle against Voldemort as he brought with him Dementors. Since he was only expecting a small number of teachers who knows this charm, their multiplied defense came off a surprise for him.

And since she and Harry, including Ron, had managed to make the figures of their Patronus solid, they were the ones included as those whom would defend the castle and the students from the Azkaban Guards.

"Ms. Sheldon--Ms. Sheldon--"

Hermione was pulled back from her reminiscing.

"Yes?" She asked, slightly forgetting where she was and what she was doing.

"It's your turn." Ms. Caldor reminded, motioning her to go in front of the classroom.

For a minute, she was confused, then her surroundings told her all she needed to remember and she nodded shakily, still dazed from recalling Harry's laughing face as she stated that her feeble Patronus looked like an amputated horse when she had produced it for the first time.

She stood up and walked to the front of the classroom and stood at opponent sides with the teacher.

"Before we start, Ms. Sheldon, may I remind you that this is not a real duel so don't strain yourself trying to break the charm if you really can't. Is that clear?" The teacher asked. And when she nodded, continued. "The first thing you should think of is the defensive spell you believe will destroy the curse."

Hermione nodded in understanding. For the mean time of her thinking, she let her eyes roam freely on the students near her and apparently realized that there had been no one before her that had the power to break Ms. Caldor's curse, even Nicholas, who was looking really somber while seated on his desk, hadn't been fortunate enough to do so.

Detaching herself from these things, Hermione closed her eyes and tried to remember something she had read from a book of spells, vaguely thinking of the incantation involved. After a few more seconds, it was as if someone turned on a light inside her head as she remembered a very useful spell.

It was called the Perseveira Alur--an adamant spell used to perforate through something incessantly, unless stopped by its conjuror.

So smiling widely, Hermione nodded her head, indicating she was ready for the curse. But even as she saw Ms. Caldor raise her hand and waited for the spell to hit her, nothing came.

She just stood there, where she was, feeling very stupid…not knowing what to do since…?

'What was happening…?' Hermione thought.

Why was she here and why was she standing, anyway? Hermione blinked. Why was she suddenly losing sight of…what had she been seeing? Were there people in front of her a minute ago? Where was she again?

All she could remember was…was…she could remember…nothing!

Why can't she remember anything? Hermione frowned. This was all a dream…a dream that felt real…so real, in fact…but why, she wondered, was she feeling lightheaded and drifty? She stepped forward and abruptly looked puzzled as she did. Her footstep…it didn't echo…Hermione opened her mouth to speak…she could feel her voice vibrating inside her throat but no sound was coming out from her mouth…

'Think, Hermione, think…' commanded a voice inside her brain.

'What am I supposed to do? I seem to have lost my ability to think…' She inclined her head, but she blinked rapidly many times as a thought hit her…

Ability to think…

Ability to think…

Ability to think…

It was as if her head had snapped in two and memories begun to flood inside her mind, memories that involved a class with a new atmosphere and new faces. And the next thing she knew, she heard someone's voice…Ms. Caldor's voice…echo inside her head.

"Each of you will come here in front and try to break the Dredoneum Curse I am to create around you…"

"That's it!" Hermione cried out, excitement reverberating in her voice, though she couldn't hear it. She opened her mouth and thought of the spell she recalled the moment before she was put into curse and raised her wand hand and spoke in a way that she hoped would be good enough to be heard.

"Pursuere Admitre!"

At first nothing happened, and then, after a moment of continued silence…slowly, but clearly, voices begin to decipher through her…and then, Hermione felt herself being sucked into a swirling mass of vacuity, causing her to feel dizzy and nauseous.

As she continued to fall into the pit of nothingness…Hermione felt as if she would throw up and die; but at the same time, she knew there was nothing she could do to escape it, so she just closed her eyes and willed everything to stop.

And as if in a dream, the swirling ceased and Hermione felt once more her solid form, standing on the cold stone floor of the Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom. She tried to remember the feeling of panic inside her, but there was none and realized that she had done it…she had broken the spell…

And sure enough, she had, because she found herself facing a tumultuous applause from her 'friends', the professor, and some classmates who were amazed by the display of magic she had created. Apparently, there was some kind of neat effects her magic had produced that had been visible through the barricade.

When she sat down, the Weasley twins found it to their amusement once more to lean in and breathe in excitement. "Wow!"

She laughed at their comical expressions and asked what on earth they were so excited about.

"We've never seen anyone who could do magic well in their first try aside from Alex and Nicholas. It was really cool with what you did with that Dredo-thingie Curse!" Erin explained.

"Dredoneum, Erin." Nicholas corrected coldly, surprising Hermione when he did. She hadn't known that he had been listening and wouldn't have been surprised if they found him dead since it was the first time he had talked while they were having a conversation.

"Whatever, Cole." Erin smirked at him. "And why so bitter? Afraid Noelle might get your rank as number one?"

"Why would I be afraid? Besides, I don't care that much about it anyway." Nicholas stated flatly and turned away.

Erin smiled at Hermione and weaved her index finger in a circular motion at her temporal, as if saying Nicholas was a weirdo and a crackpot. Hermione stifled her laughter and slightly stole a glance at Nicholas who, though frowning with his jaws clenching, still looked a lot like Harry, and a jolt of pain suddenly pricked her.

Politely turning away from Erin, she began to watch the other students go up front and face Ms. Caldor, each with their futile attempts on destroying the barrier, hoping that they can beat the only one who had triumphed over Nicholas Potter.

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A/N:

Hermione's patronus is an otter, yes, but I really would like for it to be a unicorn.

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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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The rest of the day's classes went by a blur for Hermione and soon, she found herself sitting on her four-poster bed, busy watching the moon's beam enter and retreat playfully through the open window of the Girls' Dormitory.

Perhaps it was because her head had been brimming with so much thought that she lost track of time and things. She barely even noticed the people, especially teenage girls, who had joined her walks to her classes, ate with her during her meals and included her in conversations she couldn't imagine herself being involved in during her own time.

The reason for this was not because they wanted to befriend her or anything. It was mostly for the reason that she somehow belonged to Cole's circle, which was probably the most legendary group she has ever encountered in her life, apart from her own clique, of course.

Though Hermione wasn't her usual attentive self today, she was still aware of the conversations going on all over the place regarding the four. She heard them almost everywhere. Wherever she was, someone would always bring up the subject of one of these four. And because of these incidents, she couldn't help but notice that people regarded them highly as if they walked on water.

Though most of the exchanges were about Cole and Alex, Erin and Shawn had their fair share of praise and recognition in school. As soon as she had heard what she had, she realized almost instantly that Erin and Shawn's kin, Fred and George, had without a doubt passed onto them their talents for mischief and prank-pulling.

As for Alex, having good grades isn't the only reason for his popularity in Hogwarts. Apart from being the Gryffindor Quidditch Team Captain, he was also devastatingly charming with the features of an ideal man flaxen-haired, blue-eyed, tall and broad-shouldered.

She didn't need another reason why almost half the female population in school were attracted to him and were very eager to win the race to his attention.

On the other hand, however different and icy Cole was, his fame also bordered on the same reasons that Alex has for his recognition, but with a subtle difference. While Alex exerted self-confidence and gregariousness, Cole depicted guarded reserve and skepticism, which made him even more enigmatic. His unusual mannerisms inadvertently caused the other half of the female population in Hogwarts to decide in going from just a race to a challenge by aiming for him instead.

Intertwined with her deep thought was a happy feeling that made Hermione smile slightly in pleasure. The thought that a hundred years from her own time her friends' marriages would generate progenies that were as exceptional as the ones she had met was enough to make her grin.

But then, it seemed that fate wouldn't allow her even just one second to take pleasure in the moment. Her smile was swiped away from her face as she was suddenly reminded of Harry and who his future wife would be. Pain hit her instantly as an immediate name came to her mind and she had to bite back the tears that were forming in her eyes.

It was useless to cry over something that cannot anymore be changed. But Hermione couldn't help but scold herself again for everything that happened all because of irrational thinking.

Why had she been so stupid to think that just by going back in time, her problems would be solved? She should have known that something would go wrong. Changing the past is not a feat she could do without affecting the lives that it had created. This lesson she has known for years seemed to have gone right out the window when she had needed its reminding the most, leaving her to follow nothing but her frail-hidden plan.

And perhaps it was also probably because she thought it would be much easier to do something then than now, that she decided her plan was the best there was.

But among other things, she knew that the main cause for her trouble is because she was just too stubborn and naïve to accept that fate, itself, was separating her from Harry and that no matter how much she tried to change destiny, chance would always keep them apart.

Hermione choked back a sob. By the look on what was happening, there was no hope in having the chance to tell Harry her feelings. And even if it pains her to say, he's better of with Cho. `I don't deserve him.' She thought. She never did and never will.

“My timing's not right at all, is it?” Someone suddenly said from behind her.

Hermione turned around in surprise and gasped slightly. “This is the Girls' Dormitory. How did you--” She was about to ask when she remembered that she wasn't supposed to know that rule and said instead, “Are you even allowed up here?”

“Before, no. But rules have changed. The Head Boy is already allowed up here as well as the Head Girl's permitted up in the Boys' Dormitory.” Cole explained nonchalantly, approaching her bed. “So, I think the question you're looking for is `why am I here'.”

For a moment there, Hermione forgot what she was thinking about, as well as the tears that were still glistening in the corner of her eyes and on her cheeks. All that was suddenly registered in her mind was Cole's unnerving approach and conceited stance that were fascinating as well as intimidating in every way. Recovering from her reaction, she muttered. “Why are you here then?”

Cole shrugged and instead of walking over to her, he went to the window and sat on the ledge, crossing his arms. “I just wanted to apologize.” Then he blinked. “You might--uh--want to--” He stopped in mid-sentence and gestured a hand crossing the side of his face.

At this hint, Hermione found herself blushing and quickly wiping her tear-streaked face with her fingers. When she was sure her face was already free from any trace, she faced him with questioning eyes. “Apologize for what?”

He shrugged again while looking at Hermione intensely. “For acting stupid last night and today.”

“It's ok.” She found herself saying after a split second, and then she forced herself to remove her gaze from Cole's. If it weren't for his brown eyes reminding her that he was not her best friend, she would have believed that she was having this conversation with Harry.

It took her a moment to realize that he hadn't replied. But then, when he did, his question caught her off guard, making her want to raise a brow at him. “Why were you crying?”

Hermione nearly laughed out load as she realized how Nicholas Potter was in a dire need of being reminded that their relationship wasn't even close to friendship yet and asking a personal question such as the one he had given was not right at all.

“I just remembered something.” Hermione said, managing to tell the truth without giving out her definite reason.

Not buying her elusive reply Cole urged again. “What about?”

She gaped at him and asked. “Why are you asking?”

“Just--curious.” Cole said with added shrug.

She took a deep breath, stood up and placed her hands on either side of her hips. “I know this may sound rude but what makes you think I'm about to tell you what I'm going through? I hardly know you.”

He held up his hands and said in a casual manner. “It's the least you can do for what I did yesterday.”

“That reminds me,” Hermione spoke imperceptibly and tried to relax, getting rid of her officious stance. “Thank you for coming to my aid.”

Her words surprisingly made Cole give out a deep and genuine laugh. “Nice try, but you already thanked me. I'm not going to be sidetracked, if that's what you're trying to do. The only way you can make me shut up is by telling me the truth.”

Hermione sighed heavily and looked at him, pretending to be as laid-back as he was. “What makes you think what I remembered was something serious? For all you know, I was just being sappy.”

“You might have been, but you weren't.” Cole analyzed her accurately. “Because you wouldn't be lying if your problem is anything but serious.” He paused and began to scrutinize her again. But when he saw the way she was looking at him, he nodded and finally gave up. “Ok. I'm sorry. I'll mind my own business--for now.”

Hermione opened her mouth to object when Cole suddenly asked again out of the blue. “How come you know the countercharm for the Dredoneum Curse?”

“The countercharm?” Her brow furrowed, and then she shook her head. “The one I used wasn't the countercharm for the curse. It's a spell I read from a book.”

Cole nodded and scratched his head. “From what book?”

Hermione pretended to think; all the while conjuring an idea to play a prank on him. Smiling an innocent smile, she tried to speak in what she tried to sound like an apologetic tone. “I can't remember the title.”

Cole shrugged. “That's not a problem. You know the incantation; just tell me what it is.”

Hermione bit her lip and acted as if she was trying to recall again. Then, giving him a siren's smile, she told him. “I forgot.”

“But you just used it this morning.” Cole frowned in disbelief. “How can you forget?”

Hermione shrugged like the way he did a few minutes ago and quoted the statement he threw at her the day before. “I don't know. I seem to have short term memory loss or something.”

From the look on his face, Hermione was sure that Cole had remembered where she got the line from and if it weren't for him wearing a scowl, she would have sworn he had been biting back a smile. “Fine. Have it your way.”

Then he looked at her for an extremely long time; his intense eyes making her feel awkward in every agonizing second that passed. After which, without even a prelude to what he was to say next, he muttered. “There's something about you that I just can't understand. And just to let you know, it's starting to bother me.”

Silence.

“How can it?” Hermione asked softly.

“I don't know--” Then he straightened up and walked past her toward the exit. But before he opened the door or even offered a `good-night', he finished first what he wanted to say. “And that's what scares the hell out of me.”

With a tilt of his head in her direction, Cole yanked the door open and went out, leaving Hermione with something new to think about, which would hopefully distract her from other things.

Unfortunately, her euphoria over her encounter with Cole didn't even last for 5 full minutes because once again she found herself being haunted by her unwanted memories sooner than she had hoped. Too distracted with her own thoughts, it wasn't only a minute later that she became aware of a slight echoing sound coming just outside from where she was.

Thinking that it was only some girls talking, she ignored it and plopped herself on her bed. But before she had the chance to close her eyes and sleep, a muffled sound echoed near her.

Sitting up, she looked around in curiosity more than in fright.

“Hermione.”

It had called her name this time. It was indistinct, but definitely hers.

“Hermione!”

There it was again. Except then, every syllable of her name increased in volume as if the person calling out was getting nearer with each moment that passed. She turned her head in every direction and corner of the room, but there was no one there aside from her.

“Hermione!”

It was louder and clearer this time, more distinct and recognizable that she had suddenly realized the voice was bewilderingly familiar. If it would only sound out again, she'll know for sure to whom it belonged.

When she was granted that plea, it didn't take her a while to finally make out who was doing the shouting and the next thing she knew, she had covered her mouth with her hand, suddenly numb with joy.

“Ron!”

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Harry heard Hermione's voice and nearly leapt off his chair. If it weren't for his promise to Prof. Dumbledore that he would keep quiet throughout the conversation with Hermione, he would have immediately asked how she was holding up or if she was all right.

Knowing that he was in love with her made him regard her with a new light and just hearing her voice, seemingly well enough, was all it took to relieve his tensed being.

Up until a few minutes ago, Harry hadn't been so sure if Professor Dumbledore would actually be able to find a way to get in touch with Hermione. He began losing hope as the clock continued ticking.

As he waited edgily, shifting in his seat every so often, countless questions flooded his mind. He couldn't bear to imagine what life would be without Hermione if they weren't able to bring her back.

But just as he was about to lose it, Prof. Dumbledore looked up from the manuscript he was reading from and murmured into the space before them some silly-sounding words. Almost instantly after they were spoken, a thick layer of clouds that was as high as his waist level was formed and began to twirl incessantly.

Before he told them what the fog was for, the old mentor warned Harry not to say anything while they were talking to Hermione to avoid her from asking questions on why he was there.

Understanding it perfectly, Harry sincerely swore to the vow he intended to keep. With all that has been happening--he couldn't afford to break any more instructions given to him, especially if it was a threat to Hermione's safety.

Convinced enough of his promise, Prof. Dumbledore told Ron that he was to call for Hermione through the thin fog and if the spell had worked, she would be able to hear them no matter where she was and would be the only one who can.

“How did you--?” Hermione's voice reverberated from across the room; her confusion that was bordering on skepticism was practically marked by her indecisive tone.

“There's no time for that now, Hermione.” Ron disregarded her question with an impatient timbre. Then his voice changed as he said. “First, we have to find a way to get you out of there--” Then he paused, perplexed. “Where is `there' anyway?”

“I'm a hundred years away from our time.” Hermione said automatically, as if she had been waiting for that question to be asked for a long time.

Ron's mouth formed an `o', then, he looked at Prof. Dumbledore with amazement and absentmindedly said. “That's why it worked, professor! She's not a millennium away, just a hundred years. Wicked!”

“Wait, wait!” Hermione's voice interrupted his elation, sounding alarmed, disbelieving and livid all at once. “Prof. Dumbledore?”

Ron's eyes suddenly widened as it dawned on him that Hermione had heard everything he said. Looking like he had just eaten one of Hagrid's rock cakes, he gulped out a reply. “He's here.”

Hermione gave a shriek that nearly sent them scurrying for cover. “What? Why?”

“Because I asked for his help--” Ron explained uncertainly in a surprisingly soft voice.

“Then--then--he knows?” Hermione asked, referring to everything that happened including the reason why it did.

“Uh--pretty much.”

Silence.

“Look. I didn't have a choice, Hermione.” Ron said, feeling slightly ill at ease as he sensed Harry and Dumbledore listening intently. “I didn't have any idea on how to get to you.” An anguished sigh. “If you remember correctly, I told you yesterday, before you decided to drink the potion without me, I was no good in any spells without you helping me out. So don't blame me about having no other choice but do what I did.”

“Okay, okay. I'm sorry.” A wince was heard at the other end of the connection. And then, “Is he there with you?”

“Who?”

“Dumbledore, of course.” She said exasperatedly, with Harry knowing very well by the way she had spoken that she had just rolled her eyes. “Who else are we talking about?”

“I thought it was Har--”

“I'm here, Ms. Granger.” Dumbledore spoke up before Ron could reveal anything confidential. Ron shifted uncomfortably in his seat, realizing full well what might have happened if he had been able to finish his sentence, while Harry breathed a quiet sigh of relief as he sagged on his chair.

“Prof. Dumbledore.” Hermione breathed out, her voice wavering. “I'm so sorry.”

“Desperate times call for desperate measures.” Dumbledore alleged cleverly and sympathetically. “But, Ms. Granger, I won't be wasting our valuable time by imposing on you the seriousness of your actions. I trust you enough to know that you are already aware of your fault.”

“Yes, sir. I am.”

“Well then, a more important question right now is your condition. How are you holding up?”

“I'm--quite all right.” Hermione answered back, sounding hesitant, giving Harry a considerable feeling that she was lying, which made him feel even worse.

From the sound of Dumbledore's hesitant but compliant voice, Harry knew the headmaster, too, had second thoughts of Hermione's condition. “Very well. Now that we are assured of your state, let's begin with evaluating the costs of what you have done.”

“Costs?” Hermione asked, confused and frightened by the sound of what he said.

“Upon reading the book you have acquired, I assumed that you have overlooked a number of pages in your haste to finish the potion, which was a dreadful mistake, because some of them contained very important facts that you should have read.”

“In more than one of these pages were verses given about the possible outcomes of the potion you made.” Then a very brief but profound pause. “I'll read two of the most relevant to what happened and could happen to you.” He then turned a few pages and began to read with not only Hermione, but also Ron and Harry, listening intently.

“Take heed of this warning,

And reader beware.

If once you've traveled,

And ended up elsewhere.

This potion is permanent,

And cannot be reversed.

Unless the person made a mistake,

And his mind averted in terse.

To concede assistance from others,

To go back where you had come from,

Is not permitted by this enchantment,

But only those from the place you call home…”

“May I interrupt, sir?” Hermione asked, the quiver in her voice depicting the terror she was feeling and the shivers that were making their way through her body were telling her how much she didn't want to say what she was to say next. “Does this mean you can't help me?”

“What you have to understand is that there is no way I can help you because I am not there. As I have said before to Mr. Weasley, I cannot meddle with a time that is not my own.” He informed her with a tone of regret, and then he continued. “There is still more. Listen…

There is a premonition on the line,

One more concern that is not mine.

You cannot intrude with the plan fate drew,

Without changing its real outcome and accrue.

The future embraces something new,

Marvels never even possibly true.

But think of this when you are there,

How can there be future if your past is elsewhere?

It troubles me to say,

That once comes this crucial day,

Within 168 hours, you are given a try,

To go back in time to close your lie.

But if in 7 days you fail to return,

A tragic knowledge waits your turn.

Your tree of life will slowly be uprooted,

Living its seed of living part of the undead.

Your branches and its fruits,

Would descend back to only the roots.

As past the due line, they befall part air,

As if they will never have been what the family will bear…”

At first, no one was able to speak. Even Harry, who had been nothing but silent throughout the whole time, seemed speechless and was staring into space. But, just as always, Hermione recovered first and spoke shakily.

“Does this mean if I don't return there, I'd be here forever?”

“Yes, that is correct.” Dumbledore said gravely.

“And--and--my descendants--will--vanish?” Hermione asked again.

“Correct again.” The headmaster said with a sympathetic nod, his eyes grazing over to look at Harry, who was looking so shocked and hurt because of the sudden knowledge of his fate with his best friend.

“And what happens to all of you there? Will you still remember me?” Hermione couldn't stop herself from finding out, just like the way she couldn't help but be afraid of hearing the answer she already knew.

“Everyone you know will forget you and their memories with you will be replaced by new and falsified ones.” He supplied slowly, knowing that as of this moment, Hermione was asking herself so many questions that she, even as a smart girl, didn't know how to answer.

“Then, what can we do? I have to go back.” Hermione demanded.

“First, you have to know one thing.” Dumbledore interrupted her. “You should know that the book you used has no counter potion in it--” And then he paused when he heard her breathe in air.

Knowing her, Dumbledore continued before she could speak. “We can make another time traveling potion, if that's what you're about to ask. But I cannot give you the information with the ingredients and steps for I fear the connection I have established will be broken any time.”

This proclamation of the headmaster made Hermione tilt her head to the side and ask. “But, sir…I don't mean to lessen hope, God knows I don't want to, but didn't the book say no one from out of this time can help me?”

“It did. But `helping' this way probably does not count. I suppose the method that the book is pertaining of helping is direct wizardry from a conjurer to return the traveler to his own time. Such as conjuring a spell that would transfer a person to his original period without him doing anything to get out of the trouble he had created. This--” Dumbledore's voice was abruptly cut off.

“Prof. Dumbledore?” Hermione asked aloud, aware that what he had feared about the connection being discontinued might have caused the sudden silence. When he came back, she nearly smiled in relief, but only to frown immediately when she heard that his voice sounded softer and further away.

“The fog is clearing.” He said, his voice echoing distantly. “Hermione, listen to me; we are now to lose the connection. We will be able to get in touch with you in a couple of days, perhaps three. I'll try to find a way to make the connection longer so we will have enough time to enumerate to you all that is needed for the potion.” A brief pause where only a slight static sound could be heard.

Then she heard a curse in the background that was said by someone who neither sounded like the headmaster nor Ron. She was about to ask who else was there when Prof. Dumbledore spoke in a hasty tempo. “Listen to me; within the time that you are waiting for the reconnection, I want you to think things over. Because only when you have a strong will, much stronger than the one you had when you traveled before, will you be able to return here--”

Before she could ask what more was there to think about, the atmosphere had gone quiet all over again. It was as if nothing had happened. No connection had been established by someone from a different time and Hermione was still in the Girls' Dormitories, seemingly depressed over leaving America.

She didn't know whether to be glad or be more depressed because of what had taken place. It was a relief that Ron and the headmaster knew where she was. But it was also quite as devastating that there was already a countdown ticking for her.

And she didn't know what the worse thing was: the fact that the connection had been broken even before she had the chance to communicate with Harry or the sickening thought that he might not even be aware that she was gone. Feeling terrible than she had before, Hermione she went under her covers and lulled herself to sleep.

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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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Hermione woke up the morning after with the previous night's conversation still bothering her mind. Feeling heavy-hearted more than ever, she slowly got up and trudged into the vacant bathroom of the Girls' Dormitory. As she closed the door and saw her reflection in mirror, she stopped and turned to look at herself more closely, all the while thinking again of her queries.

What was that final reminder all about? Did the headmaster actually believe she'd rather stay here than go back?

As complicated as it was to her or to anyone else, it wasn't something she should take for granted. And since it was the headmaster himself who had said it, she wasn't in any position to argue. Besides, she has disregarded too much already, and further ignoring other caution could get her into worse trouble.

“Noelle.” Erin's voice broke through the long train of thoughts inside her head.

“Yes?” She asked; her voice was muffled as she put on her robes.

“The boys already went ahead; want me to wait up for you?”

“No, that's ok. You can go if you want.” Hermione answered, now trying to comb the tangles from her once bushy but now wavy brown hair.

“Sure. I'll go ahead.” Erin said. Before she moved away from the door, she called out to Hermione. “I'm saving you a seat, so better hurry.”

“All right.” She answered, smiling slightly as she put the lightest touch of powder on her face. After a few more minutes of arranging her appearance, Hermione unlocked the bathroom door and went out.

Having gathered all the things she needed, she dashed out of the Girls' Dormitory and took the winding staircase down to the Gryffindor Common Room.

Taking striding steps, she treaded out of the tower.

“Over here, Noelle!” Hermione heard someone shout as she entered the Great Hall.

Searching along the entire length of the Gryffindor Table, Hermione found Erin at the farthest end, patting an empty space beside her. Sitting across from her were Alex and Shawn who were, from the serious looks on their faces, deeply engaged in a conversation.

Cole, on the other hand, was beside them, talking to someone with long brown hair. Hermione didn't say anything as she came over and sat down. But she couldn't quite get over what she saw so she glanced at the girl and was surprised to see her eyes looking straight into hers with an expression of vague familiarity. Not knowing what else to do, she smiled. Her misgivings vanished, however, the instant she smiled back.

With another wave at the guys, the girl sauntered away, her hair swishing back and forth as she walked.

When Hermione returned her focus on what was in front of her, she was a bit surprised to see pancakes laid on her plate. And she didn't realize how hungry she was until she had placed a slice of them in her mouth.

As she ate, everyone else conversed with one another. Too preoccupied with her own thoughts, Hermione kept herself from engaging in their discourse. She agreed she was behaving inappropriately. But proper or not, she couldn't do anything about it.

So she continued to eat, unaware that a pair of eyes were directly focused on her in an odd way. Without warning, she heard someone clear his throat and, unintentionally, she looked up. The minute she did, Cole's intense brown eyes caught her own.

“So, how're you feeling?”

Oblivious to the other three who had stopped their conversations the moment they heard what Cole said, Hermione gave him a puzzled smile. “Excuse me?”

Cole shrugged. “You know, last night.”

Last night? Alex mouthed to Shawn.

“Fine--”

“You are the most terrible liar I have ever had the misfortune of dealing with.” Cole muttered, frowning.

Hermione waved her hand at him to wave him off. “I'm fine, really.”

Cole sighed and said smugly. “Are you really this stubborn?”

“Yes.” Hermione said simply. She was about to eat another slice when she caught a glimpse of three people staring at her. Putting her fork down, she asked. “Did I miss something?”

Nobody said anything.

Hermione's brows shot up. “Erin?”

Erin quickly shook her head and said silently. “It's nothing. Don't mind us.”

Cole immediately grew defensive after stealing a quick glance at Erin's expression. “It's not what it seems.” But it looked as if they weren't going to buy it that easily. Knowing what would shut the mouths of his friends, he looked at Noelle for consent.

For a moment, Hermione stared back at him with a confused expression, but a flash of perception glimmered in her eyes and she shrugged. “What is there to say, anyway? Sure, go ahead.”

But hesitation was clearly stated on her face that Cole decided to lie at the last minute, though he knew one person wouldn't believe his false excuse. “She hurt her--uh--foot--last night when she was going up into the Girls' dormitory and I helped her get on her way.”

Hermione looked at him in confusion, but kept her mouth shut while the rest of them weighed Cole's explanation. Somehow, Alex and Shawn bought Cole's flimsy excuse for a reason. Erin, however, looked lost.

Hermione tried to send a thank you smile to Cole discreetly, but when she looked at him, he was looking somewhere else, distracted, it seemed, that Hermione considered her gratitude wasn't an excuse enough to haul him out of his own thoughts.

`Oh well,' she thought as she shrugged mentally. `I can always thank him later.'

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“Ms. Sheldon.” Prof. Larsen called Hermione as she and Erin made their way out of the Transfiguration classroom.

“I'll wait.” Erin informed Hermione even as she turned back to look at Ms. Reagan.

Hermione nodded appreciatively before walking in front of the classroom and then stopping before Prof. Larsen's desk. “Yes, ma'am?”

“I am well aware of your state right now, Ms. Sheldon and you are a bit behind the curriculum. I fear that you might not know enough of this year's course to pass the final exams that are just around the corner.” The professor began, looking at her in an odd way that the spacious room suddenly felt too cramped for Hermione.

“What do you suggest?” She asked even if she was already familiar with almost everything about the tests since she had passed the 7th year exams with flying colors.

“I've already arranged a solution for that. I asked one of my students to help you out with the lessons you missed. He's going to meet you in the library at 8:00. Try your best to learn what he'll teach you, all right?” She said with a small smile.

Hermione nodded and turned to leave, but stopped when her professor acknowledged her again. “If you have some questions to clear with a different subject, you may ask him about it as well. He'll probably know the answer to anything you ask anyway.”

`I doubt he'll know a way to get me out of here.' Hermione thought as she nodded once more and made her way towards the exit.

“Noelle.” She heard Prof. Larsen call out for the last time as she took hold of the doorknob. Patiently, Hermione turned around. “Yes, miss?”

“Have we met before?”

The question was simple yet unnerving that Hermione was taken aback. She tried to shake her head as nonchalant as possible. “I don't think so, professor.”

“But I have the oddest feeling that I've seen you somewhere before.” She protested. Then realizing what she was saying, she dismissed her with a perturbed chuckle. “I'm sorry. I seem to have mistaken you for someone else. Might be stress from too much work. You better be getting on your way, then. See you tomorrow.”

Smiling feebly, Hermione nodded and finally exited the room as quickly as possible.

`What was that all about?'

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It was at exactly 8 o'clock in the evening when Hermione half-heartedly trudged in the library, books at hand, for her tutoring session with Ms. Reagan's student. The place was almost empty when she arrived, save for some students who were either seated on the study desks or skimming through the bookshelves.

Her mind a thousand miles away, Hermione passed by the librarian whose name was Lynette Briskwood and placed her books on the window ledge, and started her perusing near it so she could have a view of the sky.

As she browsed, Hermione couldn't help but think how this night would be wasted because of a sitting she had to spend with someone she has yet to find out whom. Instead of being able to think more on her situation, she had no choice but learn things she already knew.

As isolation and concern began to dawn on her, Hermione took the few steps away from the ledge and gazed outside. Despite the serene view that was laid out in front of her, all she felt was the same abandoned feeling she had been harboring the moment she came here.

“Harry.” Hermione breathed quietly, dimly seeing his face in the murky ambiance of the night. “Do you even know I'm gone?”

“Whoever he is,” Said a deep voice behind her, “He might keep you from your session tonight.”

Hermione whipped around as she heard the sudden sound and her mouth formed a slight `o' as she saw the tall person in front of her.

“Alex?”

She tried to smile but her grin came out in a crooked form as she was embarrassed that he had been standing there long enough to hear her hopeless plea to someone who didn't exist in this time. “Hi!”

The boy he was speaking to simply stared back at her, silent and motionless. But after a split second, he returned the smile, if not the greeting. Then to her surprise she heard him ask, “Who's Harry? Is he your boyfriend?”

Hermione shook her head even as the words `I wish' flickered in her thoughts. “No--no, he's not.” She finally answered him, making it sound as if she found the whole notion ridiculous.

He quirked an eyebrow at her, as if telling her he wasn't buying her excuse, but she seemed at loss for words, fearful of what he might confirm if she opened her mouth again.

He may be sweet and charming, but she doesn't know him all that much yet. More to the point, though Alex was poles apart from his best friend, they were still the same.

Having been part of a conversation he had initiated, Hermione already knew how Cole played his match: discovering his company's weakness and using his irresistible charm to pry information without anyone becoming aware of it was most likely his area of expertise.

With Alex, expecting an entirely different game was highly futile because though his tactics and skills were much gentler and more attentive, his alluring charm works as enthrallingly as Cole's charisma, making this mystifying game played by twin charmers precarious for her.

“He was--I mean, is--one of my best friends.” Hermione decided to say. Telling him what Harry was in her life couldn't mean any harm, could it?

“And he doesn't know you're here?”

“He was gone while I--traveled away from our school, so there was no time to tell him.” And it was true, anyway; Harry was really somewhere else that day when she journeyed through time--so she couldn't be accused of lying.

“And you didn't leave him any message or anything?”

Hermione frowned. He was getting too far. It was time to end this charade and go back to why she was here in the first place.

“Didn't you just mention something about a study session?”

“Yes, I did.” Alex answered, smiling in awe at the sudden change of topic. Though the way Hermione altered it was nothing out of the ordinary, he found how she told him marveling, owing to the fact that her extreme anxiety over this Harry could be seen in the misty reflection in her eyes.

In addition to that, the wariness in her tone as she explained to him her relationship with her friend told him in a thousand words the way she felt for him. But it wasn't his place to ask anything about it so instead, he asked. “Then it shouldn't come as a surprise if I told you I was your tutor?”

“Not at all.” Hermione answered, hiding her true feelings beneath a perky attitude. “Shall we get started?”

“Sure.” Alex said and then, as he was a well-bred gentleman, he approached where Hermione had apparently placed her books and got them before she could. “Let's go over there where we can sit down.” Alex walked past her and disappeared around the corner of the shelf leaving Hermione with no choice but to follow him.

“Where do you want to sit?” He asked when he had stopped and she had reached his side.

“Anywhere's fine.” She said in a dreary sort of drawl.

Shrugging, Alex walked over to one of the vacant tables, pulled back a chair and sat down. When she followed his gesture, the first thing he noticed was the way she suddenly eyed the books he had laid out in front of her with familiarity and dullness. It was as if they were something she had constantly eaten and had gotten tired of tasting the same matter.

Confused but slightly tired to ask, he took one of the books on top of the table and opened it. Hermione yawned subtly as Alex began leafing through the pages. When he reached the part where most of the things Hermione had missed started on, he cleared his throat and began to talk…

At the first few minutes of Alex's discussion, Hermione had only been half-listening to his details, nodding every now and then to show she understood his reasons. But when she had gotten tired of only listening in, she reached for the book identical to the one Alex was holding and followed his words as he spoke. It was a good thing she did because Alex, who up until then had been watching her intently, was starting to be puzzled as Hermione seemed only interested in thinking of other things rather than the lecture.

And when at last came the time to ask her how much she has learned, Alex asked the simplest questions he could think of so she wouldn't be pressured but was left in awe when she answered each and every query with accuracy and supplementary details that he, himself, hadn't known until then.

Satisfied, yet still disbelieving, Alex decided to ask another set, this time his questions needed more accurate responds. But just like before, Hermione answered them professionally with ease and precision.

Still looking at her, he shut the book and lightly threw it down on the table, it landed with a light thud that caught her attention. Frowning, she looked at the book and then gazed at Alex's face. “What's the matter? I didn't get the correct answers?”

Alex gave a short laugh and leaned forward. “Actually, you did perfectly fine.”

Hermione didn't know whether to laugh or get mad at Alex's incongruous proclamation. “Then why'd you stop?”

“Because I have the slightest bit of notion that you really didn't want to do this in the first place.”

“No?” She asked, challenging his accuracy, but when he quirked an eyebrow at her, she found herself smiling. “Okay. I admit it. I really wasn't paying attention--much.” She added and it was again true since she had heard enough to confirm his academic proficiency.

“That Harry guy bothering you as promised, huh?” Alex crossed his arms and smiled at her while slouching back on his chair.

Hermione looked surprised for a moment, but recovered instantly. “No.”

Alex smiled and began arranging the books, piling them on top of the other. “Since you and I both know we can't continue anymore, what do you want to do now?”

Hermione tipped her head to the side and an immediate question came to her. “How did you and Cole become best friends?”

Alex crossed his arms and regarded her blankly but with questioning brows. Then he shrugged. “It's the same old story, you know.”

Hermione smiled knowingly, but her answer was a bit ironic. “No, I don't. Tell me about it.”

Alex laughed slightly while raking a hand through his hair and regarding her comically. “Persistent little witch, aren't you? Fine. I'll tell you as much as I can.” He then leaned forward and placed his hands on the table and linked them together.

“Our parents were friends since they were born and had spent most of their time in school together. Even after they graduated they still saw each other as often as they could. Other people used to call it inseparable, but I think of it as hereditary. You see, our grandparents and their parents-parents were the same, friends since from the beginning and were just as always together as their next and previous generations were. At any rate, as you can guess and what everyone expected, one married the other. Naturally, Cole, Erin, Shawn and I were born and as their sons and daughter, we tagged along in most of their trips, spent time with one another and ended up as friends.”

`Sounds like Harry, Ron and I.' Hermione thought deeply as he paused. `The only difference being is,” She added bitterly, `I don't get to marry either one.' She forced this thought out of her head before she could get all-sentimental again and said. “But you haven't answered my question yet. How did you and Cole become best friends?”

“I don't know.” He shrugged. “It just happened. We were always playing together. And because Erin and Shawn used to have their own world, and still do, we were always alone with no one else to play with. There were other kids, but Cole and I never bothered to join the huddle. Also, it was kind of natural for the both of us to be the closest so it really hasn't crossed my mind or his why we had ended up the way we are.”

“Natural?” Hermione scoffed, Harry and Draco's images appearing before her very eyes. “How can a Potter and Malfoy--as best friends--be natural?”

Alex smiled in its place. “So, you've heard of Potter and Malfoy feud, huh?”

“I have--about some things, but I don't know the story, especially about what happened in the end.” Hermione lied, amused at the thought that she knew how deep Harry and Ron's loathing were for Malfoy but was denying she actually knew most of the tale.

But as it turned out, Alex wasn't keen on talking about it as she was; “Perhaps you and I better have this talk some other time. It's quite a story to tell and Ms. Briskwood might not allow us to just chat since we're still in the library.”

And then he glanced at the clock on the wall that had its small hand pointed already to 9 and the big one to 2. “Besides it's late. Curfews still haven't changed. Just because I'm friends with the Head Boy, doesn't mean I can break the rules.” He added with a wink as he stood up and gathered all the books that he had brought with him.

Hermione nodded agreeably and also alighted from the chair, somewhat disappointed because she wasn't able to get the answer she wanted.

Noticing the way her expression changed from inquisitive to dismay, Alex suggested. “Perhaps Erin's still awake when we get back to the tower. You can ask her if you want, she knows it as well as anybody in the family.”

Grateful that Alex hadn't asked why she was so keen on finding out, Hermione nodded and smiled slightly. “I'll do that. Thanks.”

Alex's suggestion, however, was highly pointless because Erin was already asleep when Hermione entered the Girls' dormitory. Seeing there was nothing else she could do, Hermione decided to go to bed and take her questions along with her into slumber. Her queries would just have to wait some other time, she thought, as she changed into her nightshirt.

After 5 minutes of staring into nothingness and thinking of empty thoughts, Hermione involuntarily began reflecting on her life and the hazardous way she had spent it for the last 7 years. She laughed an embittered and suffering one as she wondered on how she, Harry and Ron had managed to escape from the dangers and perils, which were constantly on their sides.

Then she bit back the tears threatening to fall again as she realized how cruel she had been to Harry. Maybe for her and Ron, the past events that happened merely imposed cuts on them that had undeniably healed fast and became nothing more than memories with no evidence--but to Harry, everything was different.

As no one really understands him better than she does, aside from Ron, she knew every time something terrible transpires to him, there has always been something that stayed behind, slashing him inside, and leaving him with more than just physical damages. What still remains inside him up until this very time were painful memories and emotional traumas she was sure would never leave him as long as he could and would remember.

And though she treasures every single minute they had spent together, ignoring a feeling that she has never had before was too much neglect she could manage to do. It was, after all, something she has felt for the very first time in years: safety.

With Harry and Ron, she always had to be guarded with every movement they were about to do and never, even for one brief moment, has she experienced living a normal teenage life.

Worrying about tests, boys--were some things someone her age should be thinking about, not Voldemort and his Death Eaters. But, having met Harry and Ron, she had no choice but follow what fate had in store for them.

But in this place--time--she can think of anything, everything, without frowning at the risky consequences of her acts--without feeling the nervous beating of her heart every time she had to understand the painful reality of losing the people she loved. In this place, she was happy being safe and feeling as normal as a witch could possibly feel.

Wiping her eyes with the front hem of her clothes, Hermione sniffed and laid on her back to glare heatedly at the top of her four-poster bed, suddenly mad at her own thoughts for letting these kind of ideas circle her mind. She was ashamed and annoyed at the same time for being selfish enough to regret everything that has happened in the past when she should be thankful that those same events had given her the kind of friends she has now.

But still--it wasn't something she could just ignore. It was a good feeling--a really good one. And the thought never left her mind, even as she finally sunk into a dark stupor with nothing more than two matters in her mind: then and now.

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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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If there was one thing that had relieved Hermione from the depressing state she had before she fell asleep, it was the unexpected turn out of her slumber. Because the night that she had been expecting to turn out like the last two nighttimes she had been awake because of thinking, was also the same one that she had slept as peacefully as she would have were she in her own time.

Even her dreams weren't as bad as the ones she had before - dreams that were nothing but nightmares, nagging her until the crack of dawn. They were the same reasons why she had trouble sleeping not too long ago.

What was even more refreshing to her was the light that greeted her that morning. The wind of daylight that breezed through the open window of their dormitory was promising a pleasant break of day that she was hoping would carry out through the rest of the sunlight hours. The hum which the breeze sounded as it wafted into the room made relaxed her and agreed with what she was feeling.

But then - all these became useless the moment she read her schedule that Thursday morning for the first time.

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“FLYING LESSONS?” Hermione complained to Erin as they made their way to the Great Hall.

Her new friend looked at her before completely entering the massive room where students were already giving off quite a deafening noise as they ate their morning fill. She gave her a smile of exasperation and then shifted her gaze to the Gryffindor crowd to search for her brother.

“Flying lessons?” Hermione repeated quieter, reminding Erin of her question.

“Yes. Flying Lessons. We are required to have them.” Erin gave no further explanation to this as she spotted the faces she was looking for. With no further clarification, she made her way towards her brother and friends, leaving Hermione, who was busy worrying to notice she was already alone.

“Morning.” Erin greeted as she sat down across from Shawn, Cole and Alex who were all seated together on one row. Before putting food on her plate, she scooted over to make room for Hermione. When after some time no one sat down, Erin turned to look in wonder and found Hermione still standing near the entrance. She raised her hand above her head to call for her attention.

Hermione seemed to have been pulled out of a trance as she caught sight of Erin beckoning her to come over.

Exhausted from distress and trauma, Hermione trudged to the table, sat down. As she did, the boy across from her looked up and noticed the downtrodden expression on her face.

“Uh-what's the matter?” Shawn asked. The sudden question caused Cole and Alex, who were involved in a conversation, to stop their talk and look at her curiously.

“Noelle?” Shawn asked again when she didn't reply.

“She's complaining about Flying Lessons.” Erin explained, and then added before taking a bite of her meal. “Been nagging about it since this morning.”

“I happen to hate flying.” Hermione confessed candidly, looking at Erin with a thanks-a-lot look.

“Can't imagine how you can? Supposed to be brilliant, isn't it?” Cole interjected.

`Spoken like a true Potter.' Hermione thought even as Cole inserted again.

“I don't know why 7th years still have lessons. No one takes it seriously anymore. They just fool around and goof with each other.”

“Thought you didn't like Quidditch much?” Erin frowned as she looked at Cole, quite baffled, knowing that between Alex and Cole, the former was more into the sport.

“Flying and Quidditch are two whole different things for him.” Alex knowingly supplied helpfully as he tipped his head toward Cole. “He thinks Quidditch is just Quidditch and Flying is-well-something he was born to do.”

“Well, my parents weren't aware they had to place flying in my quality requirements.” Hermione muttered, clearly distressed.

“What are you so frightened about?.” Alex asked her with an amused look.

Hermione shot him a poisonous glare, unaware she was behaving more like herself by the minute. “I don't fly because I haven't had much experience. As well as, I never really bothered trying again ever since my first Flying Lesson, as it wasn't required before-in my school.”

“Well, in Hogwarts, it is.” Erin informed her, and then looked thoughtful for a moment. “Actually, it was only implied when they found out most of the students were bad at it. After that, teachers decided to get the 7th years to take the class from then on.”

`Great!' Hermione felt her jaw drop. `Why can't I have transported a year earlier!'

“You can do it.” Shawn urged her, and then he paused, taking a swig of his Pumpkin Juice. “Not so hard once you try. I mean, look at us (he gestured to himself and to the other three), if we can, so can you.”

Although she was touched by his effort in making her feel all right, she retorted sardonically. “Oh, sure. Put me up against all Quidditch Players.”

Everyone involved in the conversation laughed good-naturedly at her quip, even Cole who had been looking somber had exposed a grin, but Hermione had become busy realizing she found herself increasingly at home to savor her triumph over making Cole smile.

In the middle of her apprehension, Erin decided to reconstruct her brother's statement. “What my brother meant was: we also started as amateurs and however good we are now, we weren't skilled before. The fact is, we tried flying and liked it so we kept on practicing until we were good at it. Maybe, if you try, you can get rid of your fear.”

“I have tried. And I can do perfectly when I put my mind to it, but usually; my imagination tends to get a little wild, so I terrify myself before I even get started.”

“I understand how you feel, but I'm not saying I agree with you not. You're the least person I expect to be a coward. I may not know you well enough to confirm it, but I'm sure you're made up of more than that.” Cole said with a knowing look.

“I am.” Hermione admitted with modesty as she tried hard not to get irritated by the persistency of the people she was talking to. They were, after all, just trying to help her out.

“Then, what's the problem? This is just the same as whatever fears you had before.” Cole insisted matter-of-factly, unknown to him the growing resentment of Hermione about the whole matter.

Luckily, Hermione became relaxed at the last minute and she found herself firing at him a witty remark. “I'll tell you what-I'll agree to get on a broomstick and fly if you can show me a rule-from any rule book at all-which states that every person in the world should be fearless and perfect.”

“Whoa.” Erin breathed out, impressed by Hermione's comeback, and then she looked at Cole sympathetically as she added with the two corners of her mouth starting to twitch. “She has a point, Cole. Even you are afraid of some things. You can't deny that.”

“Whatever.” Cole muttered. “But, yeah, I guess I was being pushy.”

“Oh? Were you being pushy? I didn't notice.” Shawn interjected sarcastically, and then laughed as he ducked out of sight when a small piece of bread was suddenly aimed at him. When he returned back up, he took a big bite out of his food and while chewing, he asked in a muffled voice. “So what are we going to do about today's lesson?”

Coughing slightly to hide her own laughter, Erin spoke in a business-like tone. “If you don't want to attend the Flying Lesson, until you're ready that is, since you can't avoid it forever, what do you propose you can do?”

“I don't know.” Hermione said truthfully. “My reason won't work. Whoever the teacher is won't accept my fear of heights as an excuse.” She admitted, her principles getting the better of her.

“What if you just skipped it? You know, not show up.” Shawn put in, before taking a swig of his beverage once more without averting his gaze from her face.

Hermione bit her lip for a second before opposing lightly. “But that would make me seem a terrible student. Imagine: I'm just a transferee and I have the nerve to skip a class?”

“You would still be skipping class even if you come up with another excuse.” Cole contradicted; looking self-satisfied as he mentally punched the air triumphantly, thinking that he had at least gotten her back with the rule thing and had redeemed his not-overly bashed pride.

Hermione comically shook her head in Cole's direction as Erin nodded thoughtfully, agreeing with whatever he said. “But you know; if it would make her feel better, telling another excuse would not conjure an image of a `terrible student'.”

Everyone suddenly became serious in keeping silent as they tried to think of a possible solution for Hermione's problem. This made her smile discreetly as she looked from one reflective person to another.

When no one was likely to come up with an excuse to get Hermione out of the lesson for another few minutes, Shawn decided to satisfy the rumbling of his stomach, which had been irritating him for the last 5 minutes, by consuming some of his meal.

Too bad for him, the exact time he swallowed his food was also the same moment an idea flashed in Alex's mind making him yell in feat an “I got it!” causing Shawn to choke on his food because of the sudden blow.

Patting his choking friend's back with strokes that might have caused Shawn to cough up not only his food but also blood, Cole turned to look at his best friend with knitted eyebrows. “What do you have?”

He lowered his voice. “An excuse.”

“And?” .

“How many days has it been since you were in the Hospital Wing?” Alex asked Hermione, who was looking at him with an expectant gaze.

Counting mentally, she answered. “3 days-” She stopped and looked at him knowingly, suddenly catching the concept of his sudden question. “Wait, are you suggesting?”

“It might work.” Alex nodded at her.

“Wait, wait.” Erin stopped cutting off the eye connection between Alex and Hermione. “What are you two talking about?” She asked, looking from one individual to another.

“She's going to feign sickness and spend the day in the Hospital Wing.” Cole answered Erin even before either of the persons in question could have an intake of breath. While it was a wonder for Erin and Shawn that Cole knew what Alex and Hermione had been talking about, the two weren't as nearly astonished as the twins were since they knew that it was just something Cole could do.

“No. She'll just tell Nurse Raeford she's still not up to flying since she still feels dizzy. It might be good enough to get her out of the lesson.” Alex corrected.

“That's a plan.” Shawn nodded and then he stretched his arms a bit before saying. “But you should have someone with you.”

“I'm out.” Cole said before anyone could suggest him. “Springbud wants to talk to me about something in Herbology. Might as well do it since the last time she asked and I didn't come, things got ugly. And you know how she gets.” He said with a raised eyebrow.

“I'll take her.” Erin volunteered chirpily, “I don't have anything to do to kill time, so I'm up for it.”

With this affirmation, Cole turned to Hermione. “You should go after breakfast. And don't eat too much.” Cole put in. And just when she thought he was finished, he surprised her, when, for the very first time since they met, he winked and gave her a rather fascinating grin. “To add evidence to your `sickness'.”

----------------------------------------------------

“Prof. Dumbledore?” Harry voiced out, arising from the chair he was seating on. Careful not to make a sound loud enough to wake Ron, who was sleeping like a log on the chair next to him, he moved closer to the headmaster who was, up to now, reading the book, Tome Aloc Lution.

It was quite some time before the old professor finally looked up from the book, took off his glasses and answered him with a steely `yes'.

“I was wondering about-what you meant when-when you told Hermione that only when she has a strong will to travel can she go back here?” He asked; his voice raw with concern.

Before speaking, Dumbledore looked at Harry with a grave expression that sent unusual shivers running up and down his spine. “Some things, like the truth, Harry, are better left unsaid. For no matter how reality may be able to relieve you with your doubts and worries, it can still be capable of hurting you extremely.”

There was a certain timbre in his voice that unnerved Harry as he looked intently at Prof. Dumbledore who seemed to be incomprehensible despite the fact that the headmaster's eyes were looking straight into his.

But he gave no further explanation to what he said. Although he knew he was right about the professor keeping a secret, he knew that no kind of persistency would make him speak. And Harry knew better than to make him mad.

This thought suddenly led him to think again about the fact that the headmaster hasn't so much as raise his voice at him or to anyone else involved in this situation, yet. But then again, he couldn't recall a time Prof. Dumbledore ever lost his composure even when more catastrophic events happened before.

Taking a deep breath, he decided to change the subject. “How's it coming with the incantation, sir?” He asked as he moved closer.

“Everything is surprisingly all set, Harry. We just have to wait till the right time comes.” He said.

“But why do we have to wait?”

The headmaster linked his hands together and simply gazed at Harry with a calm façade and an amused glitter in both his eyes before explaining. “I believe that the opportunity to link two ages has a cycle of its own, just like the moon, the leap year and the eclipse we seldom witness. These wonders and creations of life that I speak of come only within a certain span of time and in order for us to view them or live through them, we are required to wait until it arrives. And just like the cycle of life, the path to the union of interaction between where Hermione is and where we are now, begins to grow once more after it disappears until it is already fully developed and total communication can be established.”

“But we had managed to communicate with Hermione awhile ago, didn't we? So if the connection was already fully developed at that time, then why was it broken so quickly?” Harry asked; his question more for himself than for the headmaster.

Sensing this battle against his own thoughts, Prof. Dumbledore just smiled and let Harry think about the answer for his own query.

The boy looked so thoughtful and painstakingly induced to answer that particular issue that the old professor had to resist the urge to ease his troubles immediately. But he knew that Harry was already old enough to analyze most of the many things that is happening in his life so he decided to let him do this one on his own. So, relaxing back on his chair, he settled on giving him a couple more minutes to think.

But Harry didn't need another minute to consider, in fact, he already knew what the answer was and surprisingly, it wasn't at all that hard to grasp. “We didn't wait for the right time to communicate with Hermione, did we, sir? The path you were talking about a while ago wasn't fully developed the moment we connected our time to the time she's in.” Then his expression changed from thoughtful to alarm. “Will that affect anything, professor?”

“I don't believe it will.” The professor said unquestionably.

Harry found himself relaxing and then voicing out-“Then everything will be all right again.” He breathed out quietly.

“We have yet to find that out, Harry.” Dumbledore countered suddenly with a certain knowing look in his eyes that rapidly bothered him.

“What are you talking about, sir?” Harry asked; his voice getting louder and heavier with each word. “You've already connected with Hermione a few days ago. I reckon doing it again won't be as difficult as before, especially for you. So how can we not be sure that everything will be as it was when everything affecting it has already been decided in our favor?”

“The connection, yes. It is not that hard to do, if I may say.” The old mentor put in almost certainly. Then he regarded the book Tome Aloc Lution that was lying idle on top of the table with a tilt of his head, “The potion, of course. Every ingredient is written there and all we have to do is tell Ms. Granger.”

And then knowing that the worst was about to be revealed, Prof. Dumbledore paused for the briefest of brief seconds, taking time to regard Harry with a sympathetic look, hoping to prepare him for whatever he was to hear next.

But no matter how much Prof. Dumbledore dreaded the idea of wrecking the ideal turn out of everything, he could see no other reason to postpone what was necessary.

Clearing his throat, he decided to continue even as Harry shut his eyes to prevent the truth from crushing down on him.

“Hate it, Harry, if you want, but there's nothing we can say or do to change Hermione's decision if it isn't in favor of what you and Mr. Weasley wish her to do.”

Prof. Dumbledore explained simply and then he became quiet. He didn't know how to react to this sudden realization, but he wasn't happy about it.

But for Harry, this was all he needed to hear to shut himself out from reality and drown himself in pity and gloom.

--------------------------------------------------------------

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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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“I can't believe I just did that.” Hermione released a long, tensed breath as she followed Erin out of the Hospital Wing.

Erin scoffed in mockery as they walked towards the end of the hallway. “You should ease a bit. You've been uptight since you got here.”

Hermione tipped her head sideways and bit her lip. “I reckon I should have done something more. It didn't feel real.”

Erin seemed stunned at what she said. “Who are you kidding? You had me convinced.”

Tucking loose strands of hair neatly behind her ear, Hermione didn't say anything. The next corridor was naturally empty as they turned left and she found herself wishing she had something else to do than loiter around for the next couple of hours.

It wasn't until Erin stepped in front of her that she snapped out of her trance and gave attention to the girl who was trying to catch it. “You were saying?”

“Nothing much. I just wanted to know if you have any plans for the rest of the day.”

“I'm going to my classes.” Hermione frowned as she answered. “Wouldn't; you be, too?”

Erin regarded her with an amused expression. “You never got around to reading the rest of your schedule, did you?”

The girl shook her head and said half-in jest and half-in sincerity. “I probably forgot after seeing my first class.”

“Thought so.” Erin put in, her eyes sparkling.

“Why? Don't we--?”

“Nope.” Erin answered before she could finish. Then seeing the look of query in her eyes, she explained. “During Thursdays, we only have one class. The first and seventh years have Flying Lessons while the rest have either Potions or Transfiguration.”

“Why?”

Erin just shrugged. “I haven't any idea. So, being new and everything, you decide on what to do. But don't make it tiring, I'm still beat from yesterday's work.”

“Don't worry. You're not the only one who has a hangover. Last night's study session drained the energy out of me.” Hermione said. “How about we just talk by the lake?”

“Sounds good.” Erin agreed and went ahead to lead the way.

Hermione silently followed.

Going to the lake had been her immediate choice, knowing this was the only place where she could ponder on her thoughts thoroughly. And though she was vulnerable to thinking of Harry there, she'd take that particular risk if it meant having peace of mind.

She and Erin walked leisurely across the grounds and to the lake. Without knowing what to do, Hermione sat down and leaned on a rock near the shoreline.

Erin followed suit and sighed as she looked at the clear sky above them. Stealing a quick glance on the girl on her left, she smiled and asked uncertainly. “Do you miss him?”

Hermione, who had her eyes closed until then, abruptly opened her lids, her eyebrows knitted in confusion. “Hmm?”

“Do you miss him?”

“Who?” Hermione still asked even though she already knew who `him' was.

“Your friend.” She finally cleared cautiously. “Harry, right?

Her heart hammering against her chest, Hermione initiated to ask. “How did you--?”

“Cole told me.” Erin grinned at her apologetically as she answered her in the middle of her question. “And he also said, if you ever find out he told me, he's sorry. He knows he shouldn't have said anything, but knowing you won't just open up to anybody, much more a boy like himself, he thought it would be better if a girl would talk to you.”

Hermione stared back at Erin after hearing this, surprised that the outwardly arrogant Nicholas Potter, who had given her a reserved and snooty welcome since she arrived here, had shown concern for her.

“Yeah, that's Cole.” Erin suddenly said, knowing the look of confusion Hermione was wearing. She laughed quietly as she continued with intense blue eyes. “You don't see his softer side until you spend time with him.”

“I guess.” Hermione muttered, trying to relax her senses again.

“He's quite reserved to people whom he just met. Usually takes him….a month...not really sure. But you gave us a shock when you got him to mind you in a few days. Might be a connection, don't you think?”

Hermione jerked her head around defensively as she heard this but pulled back at the last second to remain quiet about the remark. Realizing it had a modicum of truth, she wasn't about to refuse anything.

Suddenly feeling uncomfortable, she clutched the locket unreasonably hanging in front of her robes and began playing with it.

“You and Lor have the same habit.” Erin said out of the blue, looking at the locket Hermione was holding.

“Lor?” Hermione asked, ignoring the statement.

“Cole's sister.” Erin smiled and paused for a few moments to relish the look on Hermione's face before continuing her explanation. “Nobody can tell they're related the first time they meet. But once you get a good look at them, you'll know they are. And since they're hardly seen together, people don't get to compare much.”

Hermione nodded at this. “What makes them alike?”

“Well, it's not actually what they have but what they don't have that sets them apart.”

“Care to elaborate?” Hermione voiced out.

“Cole's like a carbon copy of his ancestor. But there's one little detail that his genes missed out on, and that's what Lor inherited instead: green-eyes. One good look and people know she's one of them.” Erin explained. “You may have seen her around and just not know that she's Cole's sister.”

Vaguely remembering someone she saw the day before, Hermione asked. “Was she talking to Cole yesterday?”

“Tall, slim with long brown hair?” Erin asked.

“Yes, I think so.” Hermione nodded.

“That's her.”

“Oh.” It was all she could manage to say without sounding shocked.

It would have been stupid if Erin knew she was stunned at what she heard when she knows for a fact that Cole and Lor were not the only products of Harry's marriage and a number of children came before these two.

Wanting to get rid of the thought, Hermione altered the topic to Erin's original concern. “So what's this about me doing something she does?”

“She also has a locket she holds and twists around when she's thinking.” Erin answered, holding her knees up against her chest.

“A locket?” Hermione placed the one she was holding underneath her clothes nonchalantly as she voiced out her query with a feeling that the locket Erin was talking about was the same one around her neck.

If it was a Potter heirloom, the chances of the necklace being the same one that belonged to Lily Potter was undoubtedly great.

“It's been a part of the Potter lineage for years. Sort of looks a lot like yours but with more designs. It's really cool actually. It's especially bewitched to display every generation that the Potter family has produced. You just say the name of a Potter family member and it will magically show his or her kin.” Erin explained.

“Sounds brilliant.” Hermione said calmly, though her heart was beating so fast it started to get painful.

“I know. I wish my family thought of that one.”

Out of nowhere, Hermione felt tiny goosebumps sending shivers all the way to her toes. She rubbed her arms to ward them off when a thought suddenly materialized in her mind.

If Harry had the locket with him to pass on to his descendants, that must suggest she had made up with him. But she was still here, wasn't she? This doesn't make any sense at all. Unless she was to go back to her original time and give it to him, there was no way Harry could get a hold of the locket.

But then…

History still hasn't changed yet. A voice suddenly muttered in her ear, `There are still 3 days left until it all alters.' It reminded.

“I don't really know what's going on, but I can't help noticing you spacing out. Are you sure you're okay?” Erin's voice pierced in her ear, causing her to reluctantly shrug her misgivings.

Still trying to recuperate from her distraction, Hermione shrugged. “Yeah, I'm fine. Just having a little trouble adjusting, that's all.” Then, wanting to change topics, she asked. “What's Lor's full name?”

“Lauren.” Erin said automatically.

With this answer, Hermione was reminded of what Cole said about his name before. “Was she named after an ancestress?”

“So, heard about the origin of Cole's name, have you?” Erin teased as she shoved her hand through her now messy hair. “To answer your question, no. Unlike her brother, they couldn't find anyone who resembled her. Not because she's not family but because it was the first time after a long while that a Potter married someone who isn't in their circle; you know, the families Potter, Weasley and Malfoy. Years ago, they had this sort of unintentional code in their friendship that made their offspring marry the children of either of their other two friends left...

…But it's not like they were forcing their children to marry the other. It's just that it had always ended up that way accidentally. And besides, some of them had married outside their group. But it seldom happened. So this time, when Uncle Allen, Cole's father, married Aunt Kerrie, who wasn't a Malfoy nor a Weasley, Lor's looks varied a bit.”

With this explanation, Hermione remembered the conversation she had with Alex the night before that had been brought to a standstill. Wanting to find out more about it, she asked. “Do you know how the Potters and the Malfoys became friends?”

If Erin was surprised by the question, she hid it behind a smile. “I guess the story reached your country, huh?”

Hermione flashed her one of her own and said mischievously. “You could say that.”

“I only know some parts, but I guess it will do. It started out during the time of Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter. They both didn't like each other all throughout their years at Hogwarts, but when their 7th year was about to end, Draco suddenly changed. And it wasn't until graduation day that they found out why.”

Erin hung her sentence in a climax; eager to see the look of hunger in Hermione's eyes as she waited with bated breath for her next words.

“And?” She pressed on when Erin didn't speak.

She smiled before continuing…

“It turned out that…”

----------------------------------------------------------

Walking along down the corridor, Harry pondered on the recent conversation he had with the headmaster. How much of it was true and how sure he was were somehow the only thoughts in his mind as of that moment. Though he'd tried so many times to ignore its plausibility, he couldn't deny that he was afraid of what will happen.

Yet, he also couldn't see how it would. Hermione's life was here, Everything she has, from the people, down to her possessions, was in this time. So why would she refuse to go back?

He felt better afterwards, if only for a few minutes.

The hollow sound of his footsteps against the cold stone floor of the Hogwarts castle reverberated against its walls, breaking the silence that was prevailing in the air. The walk he was currently taking had been suggested by the professor himself when he had seen how he couldn't stay put in one place.

Saying it would give him something else to do, he practically shooed him out of his office, with Ron still asleep on the chair as the last thing he saw before the door closed in front of him.

Marveling at how considerate Dumbledore was, Harry turned around the corner to make his way out of the castle and backed against the corner when he saw Draco Malfoy at the other end talking to someone whom he couldn't see.

Thinking it would be too late to just walk away and ignore it; he edged a bit closer and hid himself behind a statue as discreetly as he could.

“What else do you want from me?” Malfoy asked. “I've already said sorry.”

“They didn't really believe you, if you ask me. Maybe you should apologize again.” Came an all-too familiar voice he recognized instantly.

Ginny…

“It's not as if it's the easiest thing to do, luv.”

Luv?

What's going on?

“I know it's not. And I understand. But could you just, I don't know, try harder?” Ginny said. “If we want this relationship to work, you must get along with my family.”

“What about having to get along with mine?”

“It's not the same, Draco.” Ginny said quietly. “You know who your father is and it simply can't be done.”

“Gin, if you think of my father that way, how much more your family of me?”

“You're not him. There's nothing wrong with you. All those rows you had with Harry were just something you wanted to do because you thought you should be like your father.” Ginny shook her head and looked up at him with a profound smile. “But you're not him. I've seen who you are and have come to love the real you.”

Then her voice dropped into a whisper. “I want this to be fine with all of us. I don't want to choose between my family and you because I know I don't have the heart to give up either one. So, please, do this for me and for yourself.”

Harry swallowed hard.

Ginny and Malfoy?

How long has this been going on?

“I'm willing to do it, Ginny. But every time I get close enough to Potter, he looks at me as if I have this hidden agenda or something.”

“Because that's how he knows you.” Exasperated, Ginny reasoned. “And that's the very impression I want you to change. Make him see how you want it.”

“They would only think I'm doing that because you told me to.”

“I did tell you.” Ginny said with a great deal of confusion in her voice. Then little bubbles of happiness appeared before her eyes. “You really want it, don't you? You really want to get along with them.”

“Why are you smiling like that?” Draco asked with amusement and disbelief in his voice, a tone Harry would never believe he even had, if he hadn't heard it himself.

“Nothing.” Ginny said as she smiled broadly. “I didn't think you wanted to do this, but…”

“Yeah, yeah. Don't rub it in. It's bad enough I want to. The last thing I want and need is you broadcasting it.”

“I'm s-sorry.” Ginny couldn't abstain herself from giggling. This was all too wonderful and she couldn't contain the happiness she was feeling.

“Knock it off, Red…” Draco said, clearly embarrassed, the sudden coloring on his cheeks giving away his feelings.

“Ok, ok.” Ginny kidded. But after a few seconds, “Thanks, Draco.” She said seriously.

Harry could sense Malfoy nodding and soon he found himself shaking his head.

`I can't believe this.'

--------------------------------------------------------------

“Ginny and Draco?” Hermione's eyes were wide from shock.

“Surprising, isn't it? But you know; anything in life can happen. And I'm glad it turned out that way. Cause if it didn't, then I wouldn't be here right now.”

“So you and Shawn are descendants from both a Weasley and a Malfoy?”

“Maybe.” Erin shrugged. “But we can't really be sure. Our ancestors married the children of either of the two families after all.” Erin reminded once again.

“What about Cole's ancestry?” Hermione asked once more, hoping if she kept on firing her with questions, she would get the answer she wanted.

“Cole? His lineage is the same as mine.” Erin looked thoughtful. Then she suddenly interjected, “If you want to know more about them, you could check in the library.”

Hermione frowned in disbelief. “Why would they be there? Aside from the fact of their history with the Dark Lord, I mean.”

“There's a scrapbook copy of the graduates of Hogwarts in the library. In it are names of students, whether they were married, whom they married, their descendants and other things.” Erin explained. “My family has a copy, but I've never really opened it. But I remember its name. If I'm not mistaken, it's called Tyro Elucidates After Hogwarts.” Erin answered.

Hermione muttered an indecipherable phrase.

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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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Harry had dashed further out of sight the moment he sensed Ginny and Malfoy parting ways, especially since he knew his Slytherin friend would be taking the corridor to where he had been hiding. And now, as he was walking back to Prof. Dumbledore's office, he couldn't help but think of some things he hadn't considered much about until now.

A few days ago, when Malfoy had apologized, Harry knew it just wasn't because he wanted to. Somehow, he felt there was another reason for the sudden change…but it never crossed his mind it would be Ginny.

And the more surprising thing was…she somehow had great influence on Malfoy to make him do something as humiliating and humbling as apologize. Knowing the guy, it probably took her a lot of persuasion…probably threats…to convince him.

But then, just merely complying with her, Harry knew one thing -- he really did care for her.

What to do about it would be an extremely hard decision -- not that he had any say in it -- but Harry knew the Weasleys would be difficult when they find out. Ron will surely flip out and immediately go against Malfoy, narrating to Ginny, and to any one else who would listen, the offenses he had done to him.

Harry then wondered when Ginny would tell them -- probably when everything's all right between Malfoy and the rest of her family. If they asked him, he wouldn't give in to the guy's words immediately, having experienced what it was like before.

But that was speaking for himself and his feelings. Ginny's point of view was different from the rest and he knew she had good sense in choosing people whom she trusted.

Maybe Malfoy really had changed.

But be that as it may, no one knew when people would begin to open up to him, even after they have accepted him. He was just too a Malfoy to begin with. Even if no one blamed him for being part of such a family, it had been his choice to taunt him and his friends, unless his father asked him to do it -- not that he had actually showed any sign of guilt and remorse over anything he had done.

“Heard something you didn't like, Potter?” the familiar drawl of the person in his mind had him stopping and looking back in surprise.

“Excuse me?”

“No need to act innocent.” Malfoy smirked as he leaned casually against the wall. “I may have changed, but my keen sense hasn't.”

Seeing no other way around it, Harry asked him, putting up an obvious challenge. “And what if I didn't like it?”

“Honestly?” Malfoy met him head-on. “I don't care. The decision's actually not up to you or to anyone else, is it?”

“Are you telling me no matter what the Weasleys say, you won't leave her alone?” Harry asked.

“I'm saying I can't stop it even if I try.” Malfoy muttered.

“It? What's it?”

“Don't play dumb, you know what it is.”

Harry was speechless. He just couldn't believe it. His enemy…the boy who had constantly tried to best him at everything, was actually in love with his best friend's sister…the same best friend who was appalled by his mere presence and would give anything just to see him as far away from them as possible.

Was it safe to trust him?

He had been a rival…a sneak who made living worse. No matter how real his feelings were for Ginny, he just couldn't put all those years behind him.

And what would Hermione say in this situation? She'll be against it even if Ginny's her close friend and she wanted her to be happy.

Maybe it was better if he let things be until she comes back so he can ask her.

`You mean, if she comes back…'

Harry sighed. Not an hour had gone by and already, he was thinking of her.

Sensing the sudden change in his mood, Malfoy watched him closely and asked. “Mind telling me what's on your mind right now?”

Harry stared at him in belated surprise. “You want me to tell you what's on my mind?”

He shrugged. “Wouldn't hurt, would it?”

“It wouldn't. But on second thought, when you consider all the humiliation you put me through, the trouble you caused us for years…yeah, I guess, it would.”

“You know, Potter, sarcasm just isn't you.”

“I'm not being sarcastic. I'm telling it like it is.”

“Ok, look. I'm the one having a hard time trying to make you lot forgive me. It isn't easy…at all. And you're not helping. What you're doing is making it difficult for me to keep it up.”

“I didn't ask you to apologize.” Harry said. “Why you're doing this?” Harry asked. “It can't be just because of Ginny.”

“Want me to tell you why? Then listen.” Draco Malfoy's voice was quite but it carried a superior tone. “I'm tired. Tired of being used for personal advantages and for once, I would like to be somebody someone cares for. I'm tired of thinking what brilliant things to say next just to put on airs later though I know there isn't anything in me to brag about. And it doesn't make me feel any better when people tell me to sod off and leave them alone either.”

He paused to draw a breath. This must be difficult for him; Harry thought and decided to keep quiet.

“Maybe that's why I've always tried to put you down--because I can't be up there with you. I wanted you to suffer as I suffered…but it never gave me what I wanted. The more I tried to shatter you; the more your friends supported you.”

Another pause.

“People put up with me only because they're afraid I'll have my so-called friends after them. But Ginny,” He paused, smiling and shaking his head in disbelief at the same time, “Ginny had treated me differently. Yes, she had been cold to me during the times we were unintentionally together, always reminding me of you and Ron and Hermione and the way I treat you. But she did something no one had ever done before: she became my friend.”

He chuckled feebly. “It was an odd relationship at the beginning, not to mention, unlikely, but it happened. It only started because of a confrontation she had started, but I'm glad she had the nerve to do it, because if she hadn't, I'd still be who I was before.”

Silence came next. Malfoy was looking away and Harry knew he was too embarrassed to look him straight in the eye. Then he heard a self-conscious laugh and found himself looking at Draco's face as he turned towards him.

“Now, Potter, tell me. Isn't that enough reason for you to stop judging me?”

That question had Harry thinking again.

He was actually serious…especially with Ginny. His entire speech was so sudden that it had him in awe till the end. He never expected him to say those things and he had to give him credit for them. No one in their right state of mind, evil or good, would be able to come up with such profound insecurities.

He decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Do you realize that that's the second sappy speech you gave me within this week?” He joked with clear affability to escape the formalities of having to accept him.

He visibly relaxed the pink coloration on his cheeks seemed to have changed to a deeper shade. “One more thing to talk about in the future then.”

“So now you're talking about a future with us. Confident the Weasleys would be okay with all these?” Harry asked him.

“Why not? I'm likable.” Malfoy said, splaying his hand in front of him.

“Sure you are.” Harry mocked him and then he stopped, realizing what had happened.

His relaxed amusement with his enemy as if they'd been friends for a long time was one thing, but to believe Malfoy despite having made up his mind to let things be for a while was quite a surprise for him. This wasn't just like him, especially where Malfoy was concerned. But there was something in the way he had revealed to him what sounded very much real had him trusting the guy.

“Listen, I know my vote isn't important in this unexpected relationship of yours, but if you ever need it, you got it.”

Malfoy's face lit up as he realized what he meant and knew that everything would be okay between the two of them.

But then Harry surprised him when he suddenly stepped forward to tower over him and spoke with a menacing voice and violent green eyes. “But if you ever hurt her, I swear, though I'm not her brother, you'll experience something far worse than what Ron would give you.

Malfoy, aware he was kidding, but still quite serious, nodded and smiled.

“Not a chance.”

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“Here it is!” Erin called out to Hermione who was at the other side of the bookshelf.

Hermione looked up and turned her head towards Erin's direction. Sure enough, she was holding a familiar book that made Hermione remember the day she and Ron were in Prof. Dumbledore's office. That was the time when she found out about it when it had fallen as one of the many that did when she accidentally fell against the shelf.

She tried to be calm as she made her away to her end, but failed, as her wobbling feet wouldn't let her. It was a good thing though, that Erin was already skimming through the pages, or else she would have wondered why Hermione was walking quite lamely towards her.

“See.” She modeled it once Hermione was standing beside her.

The cover of the scrapbook still looked the same, she noticed, and remarkably unaffected by the changes a century had gone through. The pages seemed as if a hundred years' number of graduates hadn't been added to it, which she was sure was one other magic done to preserve something like this.

“Let's go sit down.” Erin suggested even as she walked by her to the nearest chair. But before Erin could actually take a seat, someone called her over, destroying subtly the silence in the library.

Erin turned around and saw a classmate. Looking back at Hermione, she said. “Be right back. You can check out the book now if you want.”

She nodded as Erin left.

Hermione bit her lip and in a second, the book was opened and she was already searching for Harry's name. It wasn't a long while before she found his page. She stared at his photograph a hundred years ago, the present time in his own period, and marveled at how he had changed.

In the portrait, he was wearing emerald robes that gave emphasis to the vividness of his eyes. His hair, which was now shorter, but still messy, made him look more mature and attractive than the last time she had seen him.

He was wearing one of those grins that conveyed hidden messages. And knowing him for seven years, she knew exactly what was making him smile like that. And her theory was attested when Harry's portrait disappeared and was replaced by a new one, this time, with a woman in his arms.

Hermione was taken aback at the photo of a beautiful woman blinking and smiling back at her. She was slight in built with shoulder-length, blonde hair. She looked intelligent, young and fit. But her face wasn't familiar at all. She had never seen her in Hogwarts, which meant Harry met her somewhere else.

But a `who was she to Harry wasn't a question she had asked herself, though. The moment she saw him holding her that way, she knew right away she was Harry's wife.

Curious, she looked down and read Harry's profile.

Name: Harry James Potter

State: 117

Residence: Godric's Hollow (ancestral home - currently on vacation in the Home of the Brave and Land of the Free)

Vocation: Partial Owner of Quidditch Team, British Seahorses

Successor: James Nicholas Potter

Wife: Alyssa McGee

Familiar Colleagues: Ronald Weasley (see Weasley - Generation 2)

Hermione Granger (see Granger)

Hermione's brows shifted slightly…no other generation? How come her line had ended…does this mean she had married? But to whom? She shut the book in frustration.

She was getting more than what she bargained for…and nothing was actually helping her at all. Maybe it was better if she stopped here, or she might find something else she'd be happy not knowing.

But something at the back of her mind told her to open the book again and for the last time -- an invisible force pulling her towards finding out more; although she knew her desire to see further had already gone.

For a second, she looked up to look for Erin and saw her a bit engrossed in a conversation with somebody from their Herbology Class. Because of this, she decided to read the book again without her.

This time, she scanned the pages for Ron's profile. She shifted sheets rapidly and began a slower pace when she reached the W's.

“Weasley…Weasley…” She mumbled as she searched his surname.

The first name that greeted her when she reached the Weasley family name, 2nd generation, was Bill, the oldest son of Arthur and Molly Weasley.

He looked the same and so did Charley, as his page came next…then Fred and George's followed, both had the same things said about them, with the variation of their families. The one who came after them was Ginny and although Hermione was still surprised at the outcome of her love life, she couldn't help but smile subtly at how good she and Malfoy looked together in the picture. Percy's profile followed his sister's, which contained very little information and then…finally…Ron's.

Looking down, the first thing that caught her attention was his photograph.

Ron was facing the camera, wearing robes that matched the color of Harry's and was putting on a smile that didn't quite meet his eyes. She knew his smiles as well as she knew Harry's and Hermione couldn't help but worry as she saw the one Ron had on.

He was suffering…that was the simplest way she could explain it. He looked unhappy…as if something was bothering him, a heavy burden laid on his shoulders.

This had Hermione thinking. Where had she been in his entire ordeal? She found herself asking. Hadn't she been able to take away even half his worries?

She had been selfish, she realized -- busy asking him to be a friend and not have been sensitive enough to see if she had been one to him. Sulking about her own problems; she didn't see Ron had some of his own, too. Although Hermione knew he wouldn't blame her, she couldn't help but feel a sudden urge to lend him a hand.

But at the same time, she also felt miserable and useless as a friend, not being by his side when he had needed her most. She felt guilty and wicked…not seeing he had the right to having a friend, too.

…but all that changed the moment she saw the next picture…

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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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Hermione stared, mouth slightly opened, at the photograph.

`Am I seeing things?' she asked herself as she took in what was in front of her…

There, beside Ron, and smiling equally as solemn, was Hermione's own image.

Only, her hair was a bit straighter and styled than what she had now. She only had to look closer to see the visible wedding bands on both their left hands and find out why she was there.

But she didn't need to see them to prove what she already knew. Harry's picture, together with that Alyssa McGee, was enough to make a conclusion.

But she had to make sure…

Name: Ronald Weasley

State: 117

Residence: Desman's Curve (currently on vacation in America)

Vocation: Partial Owner of Quidditch Team, British Seahorses

Successor: Richard Andrew Weasley

Wife: Hermione Granger

Familiar Colleagues: Harry James Potter (see Potter- Generation 2)

She couldn't believe it…she had actually married Ron.

But why?

Did Ron have feelings for her secretly like the one she had with Harry? If so, then why hadn't he said anything? But that wasn't right…the additional information in the profile indicated they had married when they were 20 years old, which meant that somewhere in between the three years since they left Hogwarts, they had a relationship and got married.

Hermione couldn't think straight.

Ron had loved her more than she thought he did enough to ask her to be his wife? She just couldn't believe it.

But why couldn't she bring herself to ask the question about when she fell in love with him?

As silly as it may seem, Hermione couldn't have possibly married him for love no matter how long she was given time to develop deeper feelings. She couldn't imagine herself saying vows to him on their wedding day, thinking that if she had, they must have been false and forced. Seeing him as her husband was unbearable, not that he wouldn't have been a good one, but still, she didn't love him that way.

Maybe that's the reason why he was smiling so somberly…he had been suffering, depressed and lonely of having a wife saddled by his side who didn't love him as more than a friend.

Faith really was something. Putting two people together who both knew to whom her true feelings were for.

Had she really let him have a life like that? There were many things he had done for her -- many favors left unrequited. She owed him much, but what had she done? She let him be a second rate partner for life. Although she couldn't be actually right, Hermione felt she was mostly correct.

Loving Harry had always felt right and real. She couldn't think of loving anyone else even at the time when she knew he had fallen for another. She hated the feeling of not having the one she loved and no matter how sacred and binding marriage is; Hermione knew Ron never had her. She didn't want that…she didn't want him to feel the way she did and still does. After all he has given her; she would be unworthy of being his friend if she let him be hurt each day of his life.

What was she going to do?

Knowing what had happened to them, how would she ever look him straight in the eye again?

Everything turned out to be even more complicated than she expected.

Was she glad it happened?

She couldn't tell. She was happy she had met their future relatives, and was ecstatic to know they were a part of her, but she was also sad that her life with Harry was on the line if she wouldn't be able to make it back in time.

A part of her was relieved, too, that she came to know what would have turned out back then. Now, she would be more careful in making decisions.

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“What is that git doing here?”

“You're awake.” Harry kidded somberly at Ron, who began glaring openly at Draco Malfoy the minute he saw him behind Harry.

“I am.” Ron rubbed his eyes and blinked more than once. “Though I don't know if it's possible to be having a nightmare at the same time.”

“If you were, Mr. Weasley, then I must also be having the same vision.” Dumbledore said quietly, although amusement was clearly shining in his eyes.

“But what is he doing here?” Ron asked again.

“He's here because of me.” Harry explained simply as if those words were enough to calm Ron down and help him understand everything.

Ron peered behind Harry and saw Malfoy looking grim, then back at his best friend, with a look of sheer sincerity in his eyes. “Have you been hit with the Imperius curse?”

Harry suppressed his urge to laugh. “No, I haven't. Ron.” He dismissed the notion with an impatient, yet amused, wave.

Then, Malfoy stepped forward to stop him from talking, also with a laughing disposition that surprised everyone in the room, especially the red-headed Gryffindor. “As much as I hate to spoil your fantasy of seeing me hauled into Azkaban because of a curse I can't perform, I have to admit, that was funny, Weasley.” Then he turned to Harry. “Let me handle this, Potter.”

Harry held up both hands, smiling affably. “He's all yours. You'll have your hands full, Malfoy, so I'll leave you to it.” Passing Ron who was looking at him with questioning eyes, Harry went straight to Dumbledore.

“I see your walk had done wonders, Harry.” The old professor whispered the moment he stood next to him.

“It did help, sir. Thanks.” He nodded and smiled as he recalled the conversation he had with Malfoy earlier and found himself thinking.

Would he admit the same things he had to Ron? Harry couldn't help but ask himself. And as he remembered the reason why he and Malfoy were somewhat in good terms already, he couldn't also abstain himself from anticipating if Ron would know about Draco and Ginny at the end of their talk.

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Hermione couldn't recall ever leaving the library and was surprised half an hour later that she had somehow managed to make her way back to her dormitory in one piece. All that came to her mind, when she had come back to the little of what was left of her senses, was that she had returned the book on the shelf and had gone out without telling Erin, although whether she had left the book on the right shelf was still a puzzle for her.

But the rest of it was a blur, and now, as she sat on her four-poster, she couldn't help wishing for what seemed like the umpteenth time that she had never opened the book that had clearly stated “trouble” the moment she held it for the second time.

Finding out Ron had become her husband wasn't what was making her nauseous. It was the thought that she must have been a horrid wife to him that had her feeling sick. Although she couldn't be too sure about anything right now, she didn't want things to happen that way. No matter how cruel she sounded, marrying Ron had probably been forced on her, her disappointment over Harry's marriage with someone else pushing her to her limits.

She loved Ron, that's for sure, but not enough to marry him. But what was she going to do about it? It was actually a simple question that could simply be answered by anyone if she would stop considering other people's feelings even for just a short while. Turning Ron down would not be an easy feat, but there was really nothing she could do about it when the time arrived if she really didn't want to be married to him.

Without warning, a sudden bang exploded in the room that had Hermione clutching her head as spasms of pain hit her fully. All this thinking was making her dizzy, not to mention depressed and worried. Now all she needed was Prof. Dumbledore's instructions to make her day completely chaotic.

She shook her head at the mess she had recently gotten herself into. “What am I going to do?” She mumbled.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she actually got an answer.

“Why, get a move on, Ms. Granger.”

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“How am I supposed to believe you when all you've done was made our lives miserable?” Ron groused.

“Have I ever done something that had you believing I'm a liar?” Malfoy merely lifted an eyebrow. “I may be everything you said I was, but I've always told you the truth.”

“But you twisted everything you said.” Ron said though he agreed half-heartedly, after thinking about it for a while. “And you were never actually discreet about anything, were you?”

Malfoy smirked. “What can I say? I hate to lie.”

Obviously looking for other ways to take him down, Ron crossed his arms. “Suppose you've really changed, what do I care?”

Malfoy muttered something and raked a hand through his hair. For a brief moment, his gaze flickered over to Harry, who was standing beside Prof. Dumbledore, both looking at something he couldn't quite make out. “You're harder to convince than him.”

“I suppose I am.” Ron agreed, nodding his head. “Well…”

“You'll find out soon enough.” Malfoy answered his unfinished question. “Just take my word for now, and trust me, you'll care.”

“You haven't actually cared about me--or my family--or my friends--ever since we met, Malfoy. How am I supposed to just take your word for it?” Ron pointed out, hoping he would shut the mouth of his enemy once and for all.

“Aw, come on now, Weasley.” Malfoy cried out, hilarity in his tone. “I cared enough to bother you everyday for the last seven years, right?” He added, already aware of his gaining victory.

Ron was about to oppose him when Harry suddenly emerged beside them and said in a tone that was casual, but with words carrying deeper meaning. “Is everything okay with you two?”

“I don't know. What do you say, Weasley?” Malfoy asked.

Ron looked from Harry to Malfoy then back, not sure of what to say.

But having Harry as a best friend let him know the guy had always been better in judging people, and if he thought Malfoy was okay to have around, then he had no other choice but to accept him, despite what went on before.

But that didn't mean he'd stop fooling around…….

“Harry may have forgiven you readily, Malfoy, but I'm not like him.” Ron said in a grave tone--a tone no one has ever heard him use, that at hearing it, Draco's face lost its laughter and was replaced by a frown.

“What--”

“But…” Ron interrupted him, smiling mischievously, “I'm willing to give you a chance.” He concluded, his face breaking into a grin.

Over the years, he had grown and developed into being so much of an open-minded person that people was astounded by the thought of him as the same Ron Weasley, who had always thought of fighting and eating as the only solutions to every problem.

Now, he was different. He already thought of his decisions as if they were important as life itself and had never regretted anything since then--except of course his decision a few days ago to help Hermione which had turned out to be a disastrous one. Nevertheless, this was one choice he knew he'd never be sorry for.

“Now that we've cleared off some things, can we get back to why we're here?” This, he said, while looking at Ron.

“Before you do that, Potter, I have some things to say to Granger.” Malfoy said, unaware of the turmoil he caused at the mention of her name. “Where is she, by the way? Come to think of it, I haven't seen her around lately.”

Harry and Ron exchanged meaningful glances at each other with a simple question in each other's minds. Harry seemed about ready to say something when Prof. Dumbledore's voice echoed across the room.

“Why, get a move on, Ms. Granger.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hermione whipped her head about and managed to speak out although her voice had sounded quite strained and unfocused. “Prof. Dumbledore?”

She was still recovering from her stun from the headmaster's sudden connection when Ron's voice came, sounding quite breathless. “You don't have to sound so shocked, Hermione.” He said in an amused tone. “We've done this before.”

Her initial surprise was replaced by a sudden sense of solemnity as she heard the voice of the person whom she had been thinking of earlier. “I didn't expect to hear from you this soon.” She tried to hide her uneasiness behind an annoyed voice but failed miserably.

“Is anything wrong?” Ron asked in a worried voice.

Had she been as ignorant as she was before, she would have probably mistaken his tone as nothing more than an impulse to know her current state. But now that she knew, she realized how much his words carried out his affections and she couldn't help but think it will never be the same again between them.

“Nothing.” She muttered gravely, feeling quite depressed all of a sudden.

He really did care--it wasn't as if she hadn't been aware he did--but she never knew because of his seemingly-friendly fondness for her, they'll be married someday.

And now, thinking of what he had done for her and his support, she couldn't imagine herself turning him down even though she knew she wouldn't have the ending she wanted.

“What's going on?” A voice that belonged to someone completely out of place and unwanted emerged at the other side of the connection, followed by a couple of shushing and a hiss of a `keep quiet', which made her frown first in surprise, then in disbelief.

“Ron!” She cried out. “Tell me you didn't…!”

“Uh…” Ron couldn't say anything since the explanation of that would include Harry and mentioning him at this point wouldn't help at all. “I didn't say anything.” He then flashed an apologetic look at Prof. Dumbledore. “He's here because of Prof. Dumbledore.”

“Why didn't you ask him to leave before you talked to me?” Hermione asked again.

“Because we weren't aware Prof. Dumbledore would already talk to you before Malfoy left.” Ron explained truthfully.

“Then ask him to leave now.” Hermione said stubbornly.

“Don't talk as if I'm not here.” Malfoy interrupted. “I'm not deaf, mind you.”

“Get out of this conversation, will you?” Hermione snapped.

“I'm included in it.” He shot back heatedly, forgetting he was supposed to be apologizing not creating an argument.

“I don't recall inviting you.”

“As far as I can recall, Prof. Dumbledore did.” He sneered.

He earned himself a stomp from Harry who mouthed `no, you didn't'.

“Calm down.” Ron said before any of them can say something to further aggravate the matter.

They could hear Hermione's labored breathing at the other end and waited till she calmed down. “I could wring your neck for this, Ronald.” She stated, agitatedly. “I suppose Ginny's there with you, too?”

Ron looked confused. Beside him, Harry and Draco froze and looked anxiously at each other. “Why would she be here?”

“Why? Because she--” Hermione paused, remembering Erin's story of Ron finding out about Ginny and Malfoy on graduation day, and decided to avoid the truth. “She's your sister. You could have told her.” She, then, decided to change the topic and diverted to what she thought was an inevitable one. “Where's Harry?”

At the sound of his name, Harry straightened and looked pensively at the foam swirling about them. Ron, on the other hand, knew nothing to say. “He's--uh--not here.”

“I sure hope he's not.” Hermione said coldly. “Because I'm going to have to kill you if he is.”

Hearing this, Ron shot a worried glance at Harry who was looking somber by the minute.

“What I mean is--where is he right now?”

Again, Ron was robbed of words. For someone who had so many excuses, he had suddenly run out of them. “I haven't been out of the office since we talked.”

“But hasn't he asked you about me at all?” Hermione asked, desperately needing something to make her want to come back even more. At the other end of the line, Harry nodded his head frantically at Ron who had inquired him on what to say.

“He has.” Ron answered.

“And what did you say?”

“You're not here and you're not ready to see him yet.”

“And he hasn't approached you since then?”

Harry heard the disappointment in her voice, but he was too busy feeling ecstatic to tell Ron what to answer. Before he could stop himself, Ron replied `no' which got him a kick from Harry.

“Figures.” Hermione muttered glumly. After taking a deep breath, she cleared her throat. “Prof. Dumbledore, I'm ready.”

Hearing his cue said in a confused tone, Prof. Dumbledore thought greatly, linked his hands together, and leaned forward, then spoke. “Before we proceed to anything, I will have to test your determination to come back here. As we only have limited time, I expect no questions from you regarding the matter, whatsoever. Do you understand, Ms. Granger?”

Although taken aback by the statement, Hermione managed to whisper. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Prof. Dumbledore nodded. “Then let's begin.”

Moving away from the other three lads, the headmaster muttered a few words and a blue-like mist suddenly emerged from under his wizard's hat and dove into the foam. Malfoy, sensing it would take some time, took the opportunity to ask.

“Has this anything to do with you and Granger going underground the other day?”

Ron gaped at him in incredulity. “That was you?”

“Who?” Malfoy asked, surprised.

“You!” Ron said animatedly. “The one who followed Hermione and I!”

“Oh.” Malfoy looked thoughtful then grinned. “Yep, that was me.”

“What did you think you were doing, sneaking behind us like that?” Ron whispered, glancing fleetingly at Prof. Dumbledore who was looking disconcerted.

“I wasn't planning to. But I was curious to know where you were going.” Malfoy smirked.

“You were always the nosy git.” Ron muttered.

Malfoy was saved from an answer by Prof. Dumbledore clearing his throat. “Mr. Malfoy, will you kindly inform Prof. McGonagall that I'll be down in a short while to have a word with her?”

“Yes, sir.” Reluctantly, Malfoy stood up and went out.

As they heard the door click, the headmaster turned with a grave impression to look at the other two boys left. Ron looked on curiously, while Harry's heart began to slam against his ribs.

“I bet you did that, sir, to get him out of the way.” Ron spoke up cheerfully when no one else did. “That was brilliant, that--”

“I'm afraid I asked him to actually go for that reason, Mr. Weasley.” Prof. Dumbledore interrupted him, holding up a hand. “I do intend to talk to Prof. McGonagall just as soon as I clear everything.”

With a lingering look at Harry and Ron and a glance at the still swirling mass of foam a few feet from where they were standing, he said. “In fact, I think I shall go now and be back later to explain everything to both of you.”

“Sir…” Ron opened his mouth to inquire when, again, he was interrupted before he could finish.

“Meanwhile,” Prof. Dumbledore alleged, his voice restrained as if he was dreading something. And as he took hold of the doorknob, for no known reason at all, Ron became frightened and Harry began to shake his head at the realization of what he had been afraid of.

“I'll leave you to your goodbyes.”

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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.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Goodbye's?” Ron repeated in a surprised voice. Harry simply stared at Prof. Dumbledore, numb from all feeling. “It cannot be time yet, is it? Have you given her the ingredients, then?”

“There's no need to, Mr. Weasley.” Prof. Dumbledore said simply. Though he had meant the words for Ron, he was, instead, looking the Harry's face, analyzing his reaction.

“Why?” Ron asked further. “Has she found a new way home?”

“I'm afraid she is already there.” Prof. Dumbledore solemnly concluded and watched as the truth dawned on Ron's features. He couldn't bear, on the other hand, to carry on looking at Harry to any further extent as the boy slumped down on the nearby surface with a horrified expression on his face.

“What do you mean she's there?” Ron said frantically. “Her home is here!”

“She has decided to stay where she is.”

“Did she say that?” Harry asked in a startlingly heated tone as he stood up. “Did she actually say that?”

“She did not say it directly to me, Harry, but the spell I put on her told me all I needed to know.” Dumbledore had turned to look at Harry and was now disguising his compassion as the young wizard's eyes blazed in anger.

“How can you just decide someone's life by a spell!”

“Harry, she must have a good reason!” Ron called out in an attempt to calm Harry's infuriated expression, but he was already striding towards the foam and, without warning, confronted Hermione.

“What do you think you're doing?” He snarled at her.

As he waited for an answer, he indistinctly heard Prof. Dumbledore leave to give the three of them some time alone.

“Harry?” Hermione's happiness at hearing Harry's voice was clouded by the surprise it held.

“Yes. Harry. Me.” Harry said in a vicious tone through gritted teeth. “The one you would kill Ron for.”

“How--?” She began to ask but couldn't get herself to finish.

“I've been here since the first connection.”

“But Ron said--”

“Never mind what he said. I told him to tell you that so you won't know I was here.”

“Why didn't you want me to know?” she whispered.

“Why didn't I want….?” Harry began to repeat in disbelief but forced himself to calm down. When he did, he spoke in a clear tone which stunned Hermione and relieved Ron. “Merlin, Hermione! You wouldn't talk to me when you were here. What was I supposed to expect when you're a hundred years away? I couldn't bear you ignoring me through a connection, too.”

“It would've been a lot easier for me if you had taken that risk, Harry.” Hermione whispered when she got her voice back. “I would have felt much better knowing you were there.”

Harry didn't speak after that, nor did Hermione. But both were thinking so much that Ron was afraid each one would go mad if they didn't let out their feelings at all.

Harry beat Hermione to it.

“Is it because of me?” He asked softly.

“What?”

“Is it because of me that you won't come back? I mean, if you don't want to come back just because I'm here, I promise I'll leave you alone. If you want me to go away, I'll do it. I won't bother you at all.” He swore as he sagged down on the floor, feeling quite defeated. “I don't care how much it would hurt as long as I know you're here and I can see you're all right.”

Hermione's heart was breaking at his words. But she knew better than to succumb to it and forced herself to face what had been unavoidable from the start. She didn't have much time and she knew that if she didn't tell him, she would regret it more, now that she had been given the second chance she had been hoping for all along.

But first, she had to give him a reason for this.

“I can't, Harry.” Hermione began, her voice breaking as tears of compunction began to fill her eyes. “I--I don't have the heart to.”

“Why?” Harry asked her in an equally disheveled tone.

“I have seen so much in this world that I can't see myself living the same I life I have back there. I know that I can change anything I don't want to happen since I already know what they are. But I can't bear to think I'd cause pain to people who would be affected.”

She let the tears flow and only when she knew she wasn't going to sound as if she was crying did she finally talk again.

“I don't know what will happen to me once my time's up and you'll forget I ever was part of your life. But I'm willing to accept the consequences of what I did. I got more than I bargained for, and I'm going to have to pay the price.”

“You don't want to stay, Hermione.” Harry said, taking the opportunity to speak as she paused. “I can hear it in your voice. I can hear it in your words. You want to come back.”

“Even if you were right, I'd still be staying.” Hermione said. “Needing and wanting are two different things. All I feel is the need to go back because I have to set things right. But what I really want is for things to turn out the way I like. And now that I think about it, I was a bit crazy to have thought I could change anything.” She laughed.

“Why'd you even think you can in the first place?” Harry asked in a reproachful manner.

“I was a fool.” Hermione said matter-of-factly. “I thought I could do it since I hardly made mistakes before, but I wasn't careful enough.”

“Why weren't you? That isn't just like you.”

“I thought Ron would have told you already.” Hermione supposed, and then she bit her lip. “I tried to ignore it. I even pretended no such thing exists. Or it did, just not in me. But the more I resisted, the harder it was for me to act as if it wasn't there.”

Harry waited as Hermione weighed the next words that would come from her, which she thought would be quite shocking for him to hear.

“I've been in love with you for a long time.” A long pause before a deep breath, when no reply came… “Believe it or not, I sat all those nights ago, patiently listening about how things were between you and Cho, hoping that in my silence, you'll hear me calling out and see me like you see her.” A bitter laugh. “But you didn't. And when I finally made the move to tell you, you ask her to go steady.”

At hearing this, Harry swiftly turned to look at Ron. Apparently it was a part of the story he hadn't made clear to him.

“Stunned, are you?” Hermione asked with faint amusement. “I didn't have it in me to break your happiness then, so I waited. For what, I don't know. But I did. And when I finally had another chance; my plan backfires. Ironic, isn't it?” She asked him with another bitter laugh. Not waiting for an answer, she carried on. “All this time, I'd been waiting for nothing. You were never mine to begin with, so why had I hoped you were to come back to me? We were destined to be nothing more than just friends. And because I was too blind to see where my hopes should have ended, I'll not even be a memory to you.”

“Is that really what you want?” Harry asked in turn. “To be there knowing we would forget you?”

“I'd rather not exist completely, than be beside you and not be seen at all.”

“I swear you won't ever feel that way again, Hermione. Just come back.”

“It's too late.”

“Why are you throwing away what you have?”

“I'm not throwing them away.” She said. “I'm just letting them go.”

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. `Is this how it feels to be defeated? To watch someone you love slip away from you?' He asked himself as he saw Ron shot to his feet at the sound of Hermione calling his name.

“Ron?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

Ron nodded, understanding though the words were left unspoken. “No problem.”

“You know I couldn't have done this without you, right?”

“I know,” He said, shaking his head. “That's why I have to kill myself later for it.”

Hermione laughed despite the graveness of the situation. “I'll miss you.”

“Same here.”

“No, you won't.” Hermione sighed. “Not for long, at least. You'll soon forget. Trust me; you'll be happier when you do. And don't worry. I'll be glad knowing you're fine and satisfied with the life you'll be living.”

She then took a deep breath.

“I know this is inexcusable, but I can't do anything. I've been fighting a feeling I shouldn't have felt and if this is where I had been heading all along…then I accept it.” She smiled, though her tears were flowing freely now. “Don't you two go feeling guilty about anything--you didn't ask for this. I'm just glad I had the chance to--”

A static sound broke off the words of Hermione's sentence. Ron immediately looked up at the noise while Harry looked alarmed and frantic. Hermione, on the other hand, forced herself to calm down.

It was no use trying to do something to prolong the connection. It would end sooner or later anyway and all three of them knew that when it happened, there would be no way out. They would just have to accept that this was the end of their journey.

The last chapter of their story

Parting that way hadn't been easy. It wasn't long enough and not nearly good enough, especially for Hermione.

Harry and Ron would still have each other at the end of the day. She, on the other hand, would have no one but herself.

As the static sound became louder, then stopped, grew louder again, and then stopped once more, Hermione took the chance to say her final word.

“Goodbye…”

Before either Harry or Ron could say anything else, a whistling sound and a pop reverberated across the room and the foam began to clear, leaving behind a light mist and the smell of light rain from where it had once been.

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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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Hermione thought losing her life and best friends overnight was the worst thing that could ever happen to her. Yet, it didn't come close to what she was feeling at the moment as she sat on her bed, alone and depressed.

The finality of what happened the previous night hadn't hit her until she woke up earlier that day. Having slept only at 2 in the morning, her head ached and her heart felt heavy. Feeling that way, she couldn't do anything but skip class.

What anyone would think of her missing lessons was her least concern at the moment. Losing who she was all her life last night had her feeling rebellious. She couldn't care less what anyone thought of her. The only people who mattered were back there where she had been before she got herself stuck into the mess she was now in.

This was the reason why she was confused, a little more than she was despondent. She knew in her heart she wanted to go back and couldn't understand why the spell Prof. Dumbledore had cast on her, had decided she wanted to stay.

What she told Harry the night before was true, yet she wanted nothing more than to see them again and be with them again. No matter what anyone or anything said, life without Harry and Ron was not living at all.

But, there was no use blaming fault to herself or to anyone else.

What had been done had been done and what would happen was now out of her hands.

But then, no one told her to feel happy about anything and miserable was what she was to stay right now. And it was that same feeling of helplessness that she took with her in her sleep.

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Footsteps up the Girls' Staircase had Hermione stirring. Yet even as she heard the door creak open, she still lay motionless.

She listened, though, waiting for whoever had entered to leave. But all she heard for the next few minutes were sounds of objects, light and heavy alike, being placed from one surface to another, drawers being opened and closed abruptly and pieces of clothing tossed from side to the next.

Still, after a while, the rummaging, which Hermione had figured was causing the noise, stopped, and was replaced by a voice she had only heard once, yet remembered so well.

“Where is it?” Lauren Potter's voice was clearly sporting irritation. “Ah…” Hermione heard her say in relief. “Has it been in here all these time?”

She then heard a slight thud nearby and knew by the sound that the young teenager had placed something quite heavy on her bedside table, followed by a light clunk, which indicated that something lighter was placed on top of the previous piece put down.

A swish of a cloak and footsteps retreating told Hermione that Lauren was heading towards the doorway. The wooden entrance opened and closed with a light click as the girl headed downstairs.

Removing the covers on top of her, Hermione sat up and touched her forehead which had begun throbbing again the moment she found herself awake. She, then, began massaging it.

`What time is it?' She asked herself and turned her left wrist towards her to look at the time, but saw nothing. There was no watch on either of her wrists and she vaguely remembered she hadn't been wearing one when she arrived here. She was about to look at the wall clock just across and above her when something caught her eye.

It was a brown book, old as it seemed from afar, and was becoming familiar as her gaze quite focused. A bit further and she would know what it was.

But nothing could have prepared her for the memories that began flooding her mind the moment she found the very cause of her dilemma facing her straight in the eye.

Perched on top of Lor's bedside table, a few feet away, was Tyro Elucidates After Hogwarts.

Mesmerized by its presence, Hermione got up from the bed and in a dream-like state, sauntered across the room to Lor's four-poster. There she stood; unaware of everything else around her, with the book as the only thing she could see through the red haze clouding her eyes….

But there was something else…an alien on the book she had seen just yesterday…

It was a flake-shaped metal, silver in a color with a thin strap of lace going through one tip. It was laid on top of the book at its center. Without even pausing to think, Hermione knew right away what it was and though she knew it wouldn't be right, her principles were gobbled up by her curiosity over the jewelry.

As she took hold of it, she realized that it was little wonder how Erin didn't recognize it was the same locket she had been wearing. It was really different from the one she found in the cave.

These words altered Hermione's thoughts for a brief second.

Now that she would be staying here, she reminded herself, she shouldn't be claiming her time before as her own. This period was hers now and she would be living a new life here. All hopes of going back had now drained away from her and the depression she was feeling had now mellowed down to a dull, throbbing feeling of emptiness; although, it wasn't any consolation.

All enthralled again and was on the verge of opening the locket, Hermione stilled her fingers that were positioned in place and mustered whatever conscience that was still left in her.

Whatever for should she open it? She wouldn't find anything worth looking at…so why see him again with his wife?

But then, she decided, she would probably feel much better if she saw them again. The pain would be no less, she knew that consequence, but she wasn't ignorant about being hurt. In fact, she may be finding a friend in it somehow, considering she had it wherever she went.

Feeling quite excited yet still overly anxious, Hermione managed to split open the two locked toggle, having had a hard time doing it since there were more extra designs on it than she was accustomed to.

Naturally, as Cole was yet to be married and so was Lor, Hermione found herself staring at their parents. But they weren't the couple she had expected them to be. Both were stunners of course, judging from the products of their marriage. But she had imagined that either one would have looked more serious than the other because of their son's disposition.

But instead, she was seeing the two faces of jovial people who looked as if they had so much to be happy about, which she knew they had, and it was the reason why Hermione wondered why Cole carried such graveness with him.

However, she remembered Erin referring to it indirectly as being reserved to people whom he just met, therefore putting her quite into the target of being affected by his attitude.

Knowing no other Potter couple aside from Cole's parents and Harry and his wife, Hermione decided to cut back from putting off what was inevitable and immediately asked for the images of Harry Potter and his wife, not having the guts to say Alicia's name.

But whatever appeared there was something unexpected…

Hermione's jaw dropped, even before she could register what the meaning of it was, as she saw her image standing beside Harry, flashing a rather wide smile, her arm wrapped around his waist. He, on the other hand, had his around her middle and was constantly pulling her closer at his side, then giving her a brief kiss on the cheek and then laughing at how she blushed at the gesture.

Hermione, who was holding the locket, was shocked at the very sight.

Confusion, happiness and anger bubbled inside her and were just about ready to burst altogether when she finally realized the implausibility of the picture. Tyro Elucidates After Hogwarts didn't kid around, showing people what they didn't want to see. It's an important material of the school and false claims in it would be highly doubted.

If she believed it was impossible for that book to lie, then why did she suddenly want to open it for confirmation of what she already knew was true?

But it wouldn't hurt, would it, to make sure if what she saw there was still the same? After all, she lived in an enchanted world--though she may not like the time she was in right now, she still lived in the same place and it hadn't changed at all.

In a hurry to find out what was what, she immediately dropped the locket on the bed and grabbed the book from the table just beside it. She opened the manuscript with great anxiety and was breathing hard as she began to scan the pages for Harry's profile.

The minute she reached his folio, she directly looked at the image flashing beside Harry's description and waited with bated breath for the next picture as she saw Harry's image, which was still the same begin to fade.

The next picture which came up did something to Hermione the minute she saw it.

It was like she couldn't breathe at all, couldn't think of the situation.

What happened, why it happened, how it happened…?

These were all the questions flooding her mind.

Just yesterday, this same book had stated she had been married to Ron. But now, a day after, it was claiming she had ended up with Harry.

The tightness in Hermione's throat became unbearable as she continued to gaze at her reflection with Harry. Why did such things happen to her? She found herself asking, as tears began to pour continuously down her cheeks. All she did was love a person. And as if unrequited love wasn't punishment enough, she had to be stuck in here because of something she didn't know would change a day after she had seen it.

Was it a crime to be happy? Would it hurt if she would have something she wanted in life?

Her mind seemed to have suddenly gone someplace else even as she began to read Harry's profile and confirmed that he had indeed married her. And because of that, she didn't hear anybody coming up the stairs and was dimly aware of anybody entering.

“Noelle, did you…?” Erin was about to asked when she saw Hermione, who was still oblivious to her presence or anything else for that matter, standing at the wrong side of the room. The moment she saw the tears flowing down her cheeks, though, she grew alarmed and was immediately at her side.

“What's wrong?” She asked.

Just a few sniffs and tears going down her face were given to her as an answer.

But Erin was unfazed by the lack of response and ploughed on, taking note of the book that was still open face up, and saw what Hermione was looking at.

For a minute she looked confused, and then reality dawned on her. “You still haven't found what you were looking for?” She asked, glancing at Hermione to catch any sense of awareness from her.

Still…

Nothing…

“But I don't see why you're crying over…” But she paused, something odd in the portrait catching her eye.

The images had begun replaying again--going back from the start and beginning its cycle once more.

“You look so much like Hermione Granger.” She mused aloud, looking back from the picture to the life-sized version. But she said this with doubt on her face.

At the sound of her name…her real name…Hermione responded and snapped out of her trance. She turned to look at Erin seeing her for the first time, a smile suddenly brightening her tear-stricken face.

“Erin, would you call the others for me?” Hermione asked the puzzled teenager. “I've something to tell you.”

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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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Hermione's companions silently stared at her, eyes wide open and jaws slightly ajar. She had just finished telling her story…her real story…and all except one was finding it hard to believe. She shifted awkwardly and all but looked at Cole after seeing his expression which clearly told her what he was thinking. With a resigned sigh, she explained the inevitable.

“You look so much like him, I know you know that. But the way you acted toward me that time made me think how different you are from Harry.” She said and smiled, her eyes brightening for a moment as she remembered that she would at least have someone to remind her of him here. “But now that I know you, I'm pretty sure you'd have gotten along.”

Why wouldn't they have had anyway?

She then stood there in silence and gazed at him for a meditative time, noticing only then differences she hadn't seen before.

Cole's features were light and boyish, as Harry's were serious and tensed. The former was slightly taller and lean and looked to have been well-fed all his life, while the latter, at 17, needed more filling-out. And his hair…why didn't she notice before? It was not as raven-black as Harry's, quite more on the dark brown side--her own--but noticeable only when looked at closely.

The only dissimilarity she had noticed then was their eyes and it seemed pronounced now more than ever.

She shivered as she looked at him.

Cole's warm stare…and Harry's bright gaze…

How unlike he was from him…

Yet how unbearable it is to look…

“So, what are you going to do now?” Alex asked her, setting down the book that he had been reading to confirm everything Hermione said.

“Find a way to go back.”

“But, No—I mean--Hermione, how will you do that?” Erin asked, standing. “You don't have the potion and you don't have much time to look for any spell to take you...what, a hundred years before?”

“That's why I told you everything.” She said unknowingly.

“So…” Cole suddenly interjected; his ice cold voice, accusing and menacing. “You only told us the truth because you need us now, not before when you could have said something and not have pretended like you did. Why? Did you think you could just go home without anybody's help? I know you're smart, but I didn't know you could also be stupid.”

Hermione found herself staring at him. She expected him to be surprised, yes, but not this.

`Come on, Hermione.' Scoffed a voice in her head. `Did you expect him to jump up and down in excitement when they find out you lied?'

“No reason to be like that, mate.” Shawn said.

“No reason?” Cole spitted out, whipping about to face Shawn. “She just made a fool of us, telling things that aren't true. Tell me, isn't that a reason to be like this?”

Hermione could tell that the others agreed and it made her feel guilty even more. And she couldn't do anything about it now except apologize, which she knew would not be accepted by Cole as readily as the others would. But she decided that avoiding rejection would not help, not to mention that Cole had the right to be angry.

“Cole.” Hermione said softly as she tried to look at him while he tried not to. “I'm sorry I lied to you. What I did was wrong. You welcomed me and treated me as if you've known me your whole life but I paid you back by pretending to be somebody I'm not. But please understand that I couldn't just reveal myself to people whom I didn't know. And I couldn't say anything about traveling because it was illegal and I shouldn't have done it.” She said, and then she turned to the others. “I'm sorry, too, that I never bothered to say anything after I've known how great you guys are. I just thought that if I ignored it, I wouldn't have to deal with it. I admit I really had been stupid. But I'm not perfect and I did it because I love Harry.”

“You didn't expect to get away with everything, did you? If you did, you should have thought otherwise.” Cole made a move to leave, but turned back and said. “Just don't do anything rash, Noelle, or whatever your name is. I don't want to be tangled with your problems more than I am now.”

With that, he rushed out of the room, and slammed the door. After a moment, they heard a “hey” as Cole shoved somebody out of the way.

“Don't mind him, Noelle--sorry--Hermione. He's just bummed because he likes you.” Erin said rather scornfully.

This earned her a laugh from Hermione. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, like I said, you got him to care even though you've just met.”

“That isn't desire, that's family instinct.”

“Then why didn't it affect us? We're family, too, aren't we?” Shawn asked.

“Yes. But, he is a Potter. And I supposedly married Harry so that makes us closer.”

“But what I don't get is how come you are here and the book showed something different.”

Before any of them could say or think of anything, the door opened and all four of them, whipped their heads about to see who it was.

“Sorry for interrupting but…”

“Lauren.” Erin said and suppressed an urge to laugh as she saw her clutching Cole by his robe.

“…my brother has something to say.” She said, releasing him then tapping her foot and looking expectedly at Cole, who was looking daggers at her.

With a final look of disdain, he straightened out his robes and turned to Hermione, this time, his expression suddenly changing and wearing a sheepish look. “I'm sorry.” He said finally.

Hermione smiled tentatively. “It's ok. I completely understand. If I had been in your place, I would have been worse.”

“Yeah, but I had no right to do that…I was disrespectful and my mum wouldn't want me talking to my grandma that way.”

Hermione's eyes widened…and she lightly punched him on the arm.

“Now I'm your grandmother?” She asked, her shoulders shaking with helpless laughter.

“Technically, no.” He said, and then looked thoughtful. “But I couldn't go around calling you my great-great-great-grandmother Hermie now, could I?”

“I guess not.”

“Ok!” Erin rubbed her hands together as she stepped in the middle of the group. “Now that we've cleared things up, why don't we do something about Hermione's problem?”

“I was right, wasn't I?” Suddenly, Lauren beamed for no reason. “You're Hermione Granger.”

“You thought she was somebody else? How come you didn't tell us?” Alex interjected.

“It wasn't my business to go telling you people. And besides, I wasn't that sure.” Lauren said, and then turned to face Hermione. “I take it you saw the locket.”

“Locket?” Alex asked again, incredulous.

Erin had a sharp intake of breath. “Your locket…” She pointed at Lauren, “And yours?” She asked Hermione.

“Yes.” The girl in question nodded. “But something is wrong with the book.”

Lauren frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Yesterday, it said I married Ron. But when I looked awhile ago, it said I married Harry.”

“Could you have just imagined it?”

“No. I wouldn't think of something like that.”

“Maybe somebody was playing a trick on you.”

“No one knew where I came from until now.”

“So how would you explain it?”

“That's what she's asking, git.”

“Don't call him that!”

“Sorry.”

“Ok, stop…this is not helping at all.” Hermione said, holding up both her hands. All five turned their heads toward her. “Everything is completely different today. There is an explanation for it, I know it. And it had better be good because all this thinking is giving me a headache. But the problem is--I have no idea where to start. Do you know someone who can have an idea about this?”

No one answered.

“It's hopeless, isn't it?” she asked them, slumping down on the bed. “My going back.”

“No…it's not. We won't let it happen.” Alex said resolutely. “If you don't go back, we won't exist at all. The Potter family tree and the Weasley's and Malfoy's would be rearranged because if you don't marry Harry Potter, there would be major changes.”

Everyone couldn't help but pause to think about what he had just said. Even Hermione found herself gaping at this. She didn't realize it before. She knew they would forget about her, but it slipped her mind that she would actually break the family tree.

“The headmistress…” Lauren suddenly said.

It took Hermione only a second to realize that option before she got to her feet and left the room in a flash.

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Hermione's heart was skipping as she dashed out of the tower and straight to Prof. Dumbledore's former quarters. Despite the many faces that were being attracted by her mad run, she still impelled forward until she saw the gargoyle which hid Dumbledore's office a hundred years ago.

She was there only a minute before she realized that she didn't know the password. But without warning, she saw the gargoyle moving sideways and she found herself face to face with Hogwarts' Headmistress.

“I was wondering when you would be stopping by.” She smiled knowingly as she stepped aside to let Hermione in.

“You were wondering?” She got onto the flight of steps even as she pondered on what the headmistress said.

“Yes.” She said simply and waited until the ascending staircase stopped behind a large door.

Only when they had stepped in did she finally talk again.

“I mentioned to you before that you would be telling me what you didn't want to the night you came, didn't I?” She said as she motioned her to sit down on either of the two seats in front of her desk.

Hermione could only nod.

“You are ready now, then?”

Hermione nodded her head once more.

“Well…” She said, “Begin…”

“I…”

“Professor!” Cole's voice suddenly erupted from the doorway before she could get another word out. He was followed closely by Alex and the others.

“Mr. Potter?” Eleanor Warren said in a tone more amused than questioning. “What are you doing here?”

“We--we came to--h-help.” Alex panted.

“I see.” The headmistress smiled. “On what? As I recall, I do not even know that Ms. Sheldon needed assistance of some sort.”

“She does.” Erin nodded. “Tell her, Hermione.”

“Hermione?” She asked in false surprise. “What are you talking about? This girl here is Noelle Sheldon.”

“Professor…” Hermione said in a light voice. “I know you know who I am.”

The headmistress gazed at her for some time with a strange smile on her face. It was unnerving in every way and Hermione thought Eleanor Warren didn't really have an idea about who she was, but that was before she spoke in a highly pleased tone. “I certainly do, Ms. Granger.” She admitted. “Why wouldn't I know the smartest witch of her age? I grew up learning your principles. And of course, Dumbledore speaks highly of you.” She tilted her head towards a blank portrait. It was, as Hermione presumed, Dumbledore's.

“I…uh….”

“Nonetheless, I don't know the reason why you traveled in time, but I do know you need help getting back.”

“How?”

“I know something about time traveling myself. But, unlike you, I had the fortune to return without delay to my original time. If I remember correctly, you cannot go back unless your will is as great as it had been when you left, am I right?”

“Yes.”

“And yours was not?”

“Yes…no…” Hermione groaned. “It's different today. I changed my mind.”

“You did, did you?” She nodded and smiled. “Three more days, am I correct?”

“Yes.” Hermione answered. “Can you help me?”

“I'm afraid I can't.” Eleanor Warren said.

“Why?” Shawn asked.

“Because I have never dealt with such matters before.”

“But you're…”

“The Headmistress?” She supplied helpfully, not bothered by the tactless comment. “I know, Mr. Potter. But one can only hope to be Albus Dumbledore, and never be one.”

“So, I would be staying after all.” Hermione sighed, defeated.

“Hang on…” Prof. Warren said. “I didn't say I didn't know anyone who could help.”

“What are you talking about, ma'am?” Hermione asked. “If the Headmistress of Hogwarts doesn't know what to do, then who does?”

“Why, Hogwarts' greatest Headmaster, of course.”

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The door to his quarters opened and the aged, but still strong and wise, former headmaster of Hogwarts found himself staring at this generation's troublemakers. But somehow, there was something odd about their group. Someone was out of place. But she wasn't, in his mind. For she belonged to their crowd, not this one, surely, but their kind.

He couldn't see quite clearly, for the brightness of the sun streaming inside his residence was blocking his true vision. But when she spoke, he began to smile and recognize.

“I take it you've done something quite remarkable again, Ms. Granger.”

“Remarkable and illegal.” She muttered as she moved closer. “Oh, Professor!” She cried out in desperation, not holding back the tears that had formed in her eyes when she saw familiarity and hope in front of her. “I've done something stupid. And now I don't know what to do.”

“I had expected you to have been more careful after what Prof. McGonagall told you in your third year. But I'm quite sure my old self gave you the talk already, so I dare not waste time telling you how time traveling can be dangerous. What is the cause of the problem?” He asked as the others entered and sat down.

And so, she proceeded to tell him everything, not stripping down any event and any word that have been spoken during the connection. At the end of her tale, Dumbledore was looking quite amused, rather than concerned.

“You did all that for a simple reason, Hermione?” He asked, abandoning all formalities. “Again, I would have expected you to have done the simplest thing, which was to tell him the truth.”

“I know, sir.” Hermione said. “But it was too late when I realized how uncomplicated it had been to tell him.”

“So, naturally, you want to go back after what you saw.”

“Yes.” She said.

“But how did it happen?” Alex interrupted.

Prof. Dumbledore looked at him and smiled.

“Quite mind-boggling, isn't it?” He said. Then he faced Hermione with a mild expression of sternness. “Ms. Granger…” He began. “When you had traveled through time, you triggered a reaction that changed everything from that moment on to the point where you had landed here, in this generation. A twist through time, if you would call it that.”

“A twist through time?”

“You have altered the future by going here and now, it hangs in suspension, waiting for your 7 days to be up so that it can produce your permanent future that would be determined by your decisions…

“What you are seeing is only temporary.” He said, his eyes roving and landing on the five others who were with them. “This, everything around you, would have been the product of your next correct move.”

“Correct move?”

“We all have our decisions, good and bad. And whatever we choose has its own outcome. It just so happens that your next correct move--here, in this setting--would have been to go back. Had you returned, you would have married Harry and after one hundred years, have descendants such as Nicholas. But you didn't. That's why everything is still the same--waiting until you make your next choice.”

“I would have gone back had I not seen the Tyro Elucidates After Hogwarts.” Hermione mused aloud.

“Ah! And this leads us to your next query--how come what you saw in Tyro Elucidates After Hogwarts yesterday was different from today.”

When no one spoke, he continued, rather looking as if he were enjoying himself with the attention.

“You went from the present to the future in a span of an hour. You've skipped a hundred years' worth of information which had been contained in an item that has no connection with your family--something that wasn't of importance to you until yesterday. When you did that, Tyro Elucidates After Hogwarts didn't change. What you saw when you sought it out, was the unaltered details of your marriage to Ronald Weasley. The book, at that time, had still been replacing the information. And what you saw today was its product.”

“So, if that's how it happened, then will they be gone after my 7 days are up?” She asked, looking at the other occupants in the room.

“Naturally. You wouldn't be there to marry Harry, would you?”

The thought of not bearing these wonderful people was awful. But even more excruciating was the thought of not marrying Harry. How that would have happened, she didn't care, as long as she knew they would have ended up together.

“I have to go back. I have to.” She finally said.

“Are you saying that because you know you are to marry Harry? Because if you are, here is another warning. Things will not be the same as before. Choices like chances are given once. You decided to stay when you were given that option. The choice to return would have been the correct move. You passed that one and now, you have to determine the next correct move that has already been set for you.”

“And what is that?”

“I do not know.” He said solemnly.

She bit her lip. Now what would she do? What if she was destined to stay here? But then, what would happen to these people? She didn't want to lose them. But her next correct move could possibly be to never return, to live a life she had yet to see. If it was her destiny, how can she avoid it?

But as she looked at the concerned faces of her new friends and the knowing smile on Dumbledore's face, she realized that she was in charge of her own destiny. And if she were to create a wrong move once again, she didn't care. She would do what it takes to live with Harry and Ron and risk facing what she had avoided in the first place.

If this was a wrong decision, it didn't matter. She had been making bad decisions lately and she could afford one more.

“I'll do it.”

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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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“Harry! Wait up!” Ron tried to catch up with his friend, but stopped when Harry flashed him a look of dread and anger, with eyes blazing like emerald fire.

Harry had stormed out of Dumbledore's office the moment their connection with Hermione broke. And from the look the boy was giving him right now, he may have wanted to be alone. But still unable to stop from worrying, Ron continued his long strides and a couple of seconds later, was a hair's breadth away from his best friend. He grabbed his shoulder and turned him around.

Harry tried to push him off, but Ron was as strong as he was concerned.

“It's painful, Harry, I know.” Ron said, tediously after Harry quieted down. “You're not the only one who lost her. I understand.”

“No, you don't!” Harry roared with so much force that Ron staggered. “You don't love her as much as I do. You don't know how much. You never saw her the way I did. You never wanted to make her happy as much as I did.”

At this, Ron's eyes blazed with anger. “You can tell me I never loved her the way you did. You can tell me I didn't see her the way you do. You can even say that I didn't want her that way. But don't you even dare tell me I didn't want her to be happy. If you had seen her for the past year, you would understand what I'm talking about. All those times you thought she was happy for you, but she wasn't. All she did was cry her heart out as I listened and heard her heart shattering to pieces every time you go breaking it. Now, if to stay where she is right now is her choice, if that makes her happy, then I'm not complaining. It's about time she gets what she wants.” Ron said; his voice breaking.

“But I love her.” Harry said.

“Does she know that?” Ron retorted. “Thanks to you, Mr. Insensitive, she doesn't. You've realized you're in love with her…what…days ago? Why? Because I told you. Tell me, would you have known you cared for her that much if I didn't say any of those things to you?

“Yes!” Harry said in heartbeat.

“Perhaps you would have. But guess what? You're late. And now she's made a decision and we both know Hermione. She doesn't make decisions she hasn't thought of first.”

“We can't just let her stay there, Ron. Or are you just that prepared to let go of the 7 years we've had?”

“I've been prepared to let go, Harry. For over a year now. I've been ready to end 7 years of friendship.”

“What?

“But it wasn't Hermione that I was ready to say goodbye to. It was you. I always thought I would be there for her because I promised her I would. And I thought that she would let go of you because of the pain you were causing. And I was ready to stand by her side. But now that she's gone, I can't see any reason to stay. But because you've realized who you are now, I'm glad to say you're still my friend.” He reached out to him. “It will be hard to accept she's gone, but we have to. There's no way out but just see things the way she does.”

Harry was silent for a moment. And even though no words were coming from his mouth, Ron knew what his best friend was going through. He may not have lost somebody he was in love with, but he lost somebody he cared for deeply. And for him, that was enough to understand.

“I know.” Harry agreed after a while. “But can you just give me some time alone? I need it.”

Ron looked at him for a short time. Then he nodded, and left.

Harry watched his friend retreat, feeling calmer than what he appeared to be. Grateful Ron had been there to take him out of his shock, he turned around to think by himself, and hopefully, learn to accept that Hermione was really gone and would never come back.

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“I know this is crazy…but I'm going to miss you.” Erin said as Hermione stood before all of them, getting ready to go back in time.

“You would?” Hermione smiled slightly, as she stopped fussing over her clothes.

“At least before all these disappear.” Dumbledore put in. “Remember that this is a reality that would have come true had Ms. Granger gone back. We do not know yet what will happen or what her next correct move would be. But she is taking a risk now by going back after moving past her deadline. What will happen after this is in the hands of fate.”

“Then let's just hope fate is on your side.” Alex said, suddenly materializing beside her.

“Right.” Hermione nodded, feeling extremely nervous about her forthcoming travel. “Tell me what we're on about again, professor?”

“I am going to send you back to the day you are to drink the time-traveling potion you concocted. You must do something -- a particular deed -- that would stop your other self from drinking that potion. And if you do what must be done, you will find yourself back to whence you came from.” Dumbledore said, pacing back and forth. “But I will do well to remind you that you will no longer have any recollection of what happened to you these past few days. Having knowledge of everything here will only make you deliberately influence your decisions that you think would let you arrive to your desired outcome. And you may do this without thinking of the consequences of your actions once more. Now we can't have you time-traveling again, can we?”

“No, sir.” Hermione shook her head. “But what if I make the wrong decision and end up having something I don't want?”

“That's the possibility we are taking right now, Ms. Granger.” Dumbledore said. “Right now, everything is a gamble.”

“What will happen if she doesn't manage to do what she has to do?” Shawn asked.

“She will cease to exist in her world or our world.” He said matter-of-factly.

This announcement caused every descendant to look up in astonishment, including Hermione.

“You never mentioned that, professor.” Hermione stuttered, clearly fazed by the news.

“Didn't I?” The headmaster asked with a mysterious tone. “Well, now that you know, do you still want to go through with this?”

“Hermione, don't do it.” Erin said before Hermione could. The girl looked at her with questioning eyes.

“Why not?” Shawn asked.

“Look at it this way. If she stays, she'll be with all of us. I know we're nothing compared to Harry Potter, but if she goes back, she may or may not have him. And right now, I think what she needs is something steady and sure." Erin explained. Then she turned to Hermione and looked at her straight in the eye. "We're here; we're not going to disappear. And staying is loads better than not existing in both worlds, isn't it?”

“But…”

“You don't know what you're going to do. What if you don't find out when you're there? Are you willing to take the chance of not having either world?” Erin pointed out.

Hermione opened her mouth to defend herself, but Cole beat her to it.

“She may not know right now what she's going to do, but she will once she's there.”

“What makes you so sure?” Erin asked meaning to be doubtful, but sounded more likely defeated.

Cole paused then said in a smiling voice. “Because she's Hermione Granger, that's why.”

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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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“Hey, Potter!” A familiar drawl called out to Harry as he strolled across the Hogwarts grounds. He turned around slowly, feeling irritated that his time alone had been interrupted again.

`What am I supposed to do to get some peace around here?'

“What do you want?” He asked Malfoy who had just reached his side.

“What just happened?” The nosy git asked him.

“Nothing.”

“Don't act as if I wasn't there. Something was wrong and I know it. If Professor Dumbledore hadn't asked me to call for Prof. McGonagall, I would have been there the whole time. So what happened?” He asked again.

“You don't have to know.”

“But I want to know.”

“Who are you to `want to know'?” Harry asked him heatedly.

“I thought we were okay.” Malfoy said, looking extremely agitated.

“We may be in good terms right now but that doesn't give you the right to stick your nose into our business. Whatever happened there doesn't and will never involve you.”

“You know what I think? If you never wanted me to know, you shouldn't have brought me there in the first place.”

“What are you talking about? I brought you there to let you speak to Ron. I didn't intend to let you learn about Hermione's absence. That's something only we should know.” Harry explained

“Nevertheless, I did find out. What are you going to do? Cast “obliviate” at me? Whether you want me to be or not, I'm involved now. How can I show you this is real, I'm real, if you keep on shoving me out of the way every time I try to do something to prove myself?” Malfoy reasoned. He, then, took a step closer to Harry and muttered. “Now, what happened?”

“You want to know?”

“That's the reason I'm asking, isn't it?”

“Hermione's gone!”

”What?”

“Hermione's gone.” Harry explained in a bitter tone. “She's not coming back. She's decided to stay where she is.”

“But, that's impossible! She can't do that. You're here!”

“Yeah…and so is Ron.” Harry said, not understanding a bit what Malfoy said.

“Yes, but you're here!”

“I know I'm here, Malfoy. I'm talking to you.”

“No, you don't understand. How can Granger decide to stay here when you're not there? Can she handle that?”

“What are you saying?”

“I think you know what I'm saying. I think what you want to know is how I knew.” He smirked, and then he shrugged noncommittally. “Everyone does, Potter. Everyone, well, except…perhaps you didn't, but I'm guessing you know now. I think that you and Granger, including Weasley, were oblivious to the fact that your trio was talked about more often than the death of Lord Voldemort. And it didn't help subdue the matter when Weasley and Granger kept on going out without you; while you, on the other hand, were busy with Chang.”

Harry could only stare at Malfoy. He had no idea that people still followed his life even after the death of Voldemort. Had he really been that dense?

“Well, people should mind their own business.” He decided not to let the boy get to him with his words no matter how painful they hit him. They were, after all, just words. “Why are you telling me, anyway? I didn't ask for you to explain anything. And I sure as hell don't care.” Harry cursed, turning his back away from Malfoy.

But he felt stupid and ashamed of himself. Everyone in the whole school knew that Hermione loved him. He was blinded by a childhood fantasy come true to notice. When he thought about the pain she must have suffered and the unknown and possible mockery she got from the other students, he couldn't stop feeling guilty. She was indeed a brave girl to endure such humiliation.

Maybe she did the right thing; maybe she had suffered long enough.

“Come on, Harry. Aren't you going to do something?” Malfoy asked quietly from behind.

Harry saw that he would get nowhere with being the way he was. He sighed and said in defeat. “There's no point. That connection you witnessed had been the last. She made her decision. That's why Prof. Dumbledore asked you to call for Prof. McGonagall. But the connection was cut before she arrived.”

“Why don't you try making the connection with her again and make her come back?”

“We could, but I won't let them.” He said. Malfoy looked shocked, and so did he. “I just realized that I've deprived her of what she needed this past year and I should just let her do what she wants. She deserves to be happy, and for the first time, I want to be the cause of her happiness.”

“Are you just going to give her up? Throw everything you have just because you're too dense to realize she will be happier with you than in some forsaken place where she doesn't know anyone?”

“I think so.”

Malfoy's eyes blazed with anger and confusion…

“Don't you love her?”

“I do…”

“So what's the problem?”

“She never knew.”

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“That's right; you're Hermione Granger, the smartest witch of your age. How could I have forgotten?” Erin beamed, but there was still sadness in her eyes.

Hermione stepped forward and clasped Erin's hands. “Don't worry. I'll still be seeing you. In a hundred years…” She winked.

“Confident, are we?” Alex asked her, grinning.

“Just trying to be optimistic. I can't afford to let myself down again.”

“Yep, we can't have that happening!” Shawn chimed once more.

“Ms. Granger, it's time.” Prof. Dumbledore interrupted.

“Wait, sir. Can you give me a minute?” Hermione asked, fidgeting with her hands.

“By all means…” The headmaster said, bowing slightly with a small smile playing on his lips. He turned around and disappeared around the corner of his house.

Hermione took a deep breath, put on a smiling face and turned her audience. “I just want to thank all of you for putting up with me these past few days. And I also want to apologize again because I lied. I hope you understand now.”

“We do. And we wish you luck.” Erin said.

“Yeah or else we'll never be born.” Shawn kidded.

“You can do it. Just think the way Hermione Granger thinks and you'll be fine.”Alex commented.

“Stop your sycophantism.” Cole said muttered, clearly amused. To Hermione, he said. “It won't hurt to follow your heart either. It is in the right place.”

Hermione looked at the four people who had become special to her in just a short period of time. She was indeed grateful to them and what they'd done, how they changed her life. Though, if everything went well, she would forget them, she knew they would stay with her in her heart.

“It's time to go.” Dumbledore came from behind them.

“I guess this is it.” Hermione smiled tentatively as she moved towards Dumbledore. "I guess you'll have to go."

“Wait a minute! Don't you think for one second we're going to miss some cool bit of magic…” Shawn beamed as he followed her, the others not far behind.

When everyone had settled in a circle around the two of them, Dumbledore turned to a nervous-looking Hermione. “Are you ready, Ms Granger?” He asked, both his hands up, his wand clutched firmly in his right hand.

“As ready as I'll ever be.” She muttered and smiled at the four.

Before she could think of another thing, everything went black, and all she remembered next was the headmaster's voice muttering an incantation, and then finally losing consciousness as she fell into a deep stupor.

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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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Hermione shifted uncomfortably as her eyes fluttered open.

`Where am I?' she asked no one in particular as she sat upright. As she did so, her back ached, presumably, from having lain on the floor for what seemed like hours, and her head was in no better condition either as it began to pound heavily, her sight becoming unclear.

As she waited for her vision to return to its normal state, Hermione tried to remember the very last thing that happened the last time she was awake. But, just like her eyesight, her memory was in no hurry to return either. Because all she could think of was the throbbing pain in her head. Slowly, she stood up, clutching the wall beside her for support.

She took a step forward and glanced around.

From what she could make out from the blurry images in front of her, she knew, even certain of it, that she was at Hogwarts. There was no mistaking that stone wall lining the passage that stretched across the floor. And on that same edge hung familiar torches, blazing with fire.

But there was something a bit bothersome about the place…

She couldn't put her finger into it at first, but as she took another fleeting look, she realized it was the hallway being empty…

Now that she had noticed it…where were the students?

Where were…

Cole…Erin…Shawn…Alex…

In the blink of an eye, everything came back to her….

The book…Harry's wedding picture…his bride--her…Dumbledore's explanation…his solution…her next move…

Her next move…

Wait…

Had Prof. Dumbledore succeeded in sending her back? There could be no other explanation for her situation right now, could there? She had just woken up on the floor, and the setting she was in now was the very same one she had left a few days ago.

There was one way she could find out. And that would be to look for her other self. But accomplishing the task would be too risky. She couldn't let herself be found by anybody, especially her self.

But she just couldn't stay put. She should think of what to do. But, she would have to be very careful so she wouldn't run into her other self. Although that would be something she'd welcome completely because one explanation could change her life forever. However, it couldn't be as simple as that, or else Prof. Dumbledore would have mentioned it already.

She'd just have to think of something else to let Ron or Hermione find out she should not take that potion. As Hermione thought about that, she grimaced as she realized another potentially problematic situation she had to face.

How was she going to stop herself from taking that potion without actually revealing herself to anybody? She couldn't just walk up to Ron, or Harry, even, without sounding so ridiculous…

And, what would she say?

“Ron, would you do me a favor and stop me from taking the time-traveling potion? Thanks.”

The thought was so stupid it wasn't even funny. Thought admittedly, Hermione would have laughed if she weren't so worried about it. As she began walking toward the west wing of the hallway, she found herself asking questions which she had no idea how to answer.

How much time did she have before she fails to do her mission?

Would she know whether she'd succeeded or not?

Would she be able to pull this off?

`You wouldn't solve anything if you keep worrying.' Her conscience told her. But even as her vision returned, she couldn't find it in herself to feel optimistic. Instead, she felt desperate and not an inch hopeful.

Hermione trudged the next few steps, trying to think of what happened the day she drank that potion. But all she could come up with were a few hazy moments before that moment.

Of the few things she remembered, Ron had not been there to see her drink it. She was too impatient to wait for him. And she took the potion, probably a minute before she should have taken it. That had probably been the reason she ended up in the future instead of the past…

But that thought didn't help her at all. She was still in the stage where she didn't know what to do. Prof. Dumbledore had mentioned that once she failed, she would never be able to go back here nor would she see her descendants again.

She looked around and found herself near the stairs of the 2nd floor. She vaguely reminded herself again that if it were that easy, she could just hide in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, which was two corners away, and wait for the other Hermione and Ron to arrive so she could stop herself from taking that potion when Ron walks out.

Yet, her she was, still. Trying to find another way, but not close to succeeding at all. Despite all her uncertainties, she was sure of this. She wouldn't solve anything if she kept on thinking that way.

`Come on, Hermione.' Her conscience urged her. Surely she could figure this one out. She'd always been terrific when it comes to solving puzzles. And she thought some more, despite the continuous pounding going on in her head and the extreme exhaustion she felt.

When nothing came in her mind that was even remotely close to solving her problem, she shuddered. Had she lost her touch? Could she be no closer to finding out her way out than she being sure of the future she had with Harry? Wasn't it important or was it just because more than her grades were at stake?

She laughed scornfully at the irony of that idea. It didn't make sense at all…

Shouldn't she be even more efficient now…knowing that more than her life itself was on the line here? Hermione was so lost in her thoughts that she failed to see a boy behind her, running and then stopping in front of her.

“Ms. Granger.” He panted, slightly clutching his midsection.

Hermione snapped out of her trance to focus on the boy standing in front of her, who looked quite annoyed and irritated. “Yes?” She answered, momentarily forgetting that she shouldn't have been seen by the boy, much more be talking to him.

“You are needed for the meeting.” He said.

Hermione frowned genuinely. “Meeting? What meeting?”

“The meeting of the prefects with the head boy and head girl.” He clarified, looking quite smug and impatient. Hermione could only roll her eyes at him mentally for his arrogance. “It's in the Defense Against the Dark Arts Classroom. It's already 1:25. The meeting should have started 10 minutes ago. You and Harry Potter are already late. And I was asked to look for you.”

“Oh, that meeting.” Hermione remembered, realizing Peter Bland, a 6th year prefect, whose expression kept on changing. She didn't have to ask to know what's on his mind. He was actually angry. She, on the other hand, didn't know what to think. But she was also starting to get impatient, especially now that the brat was rolling his eyes at her. Was he gay or something? “I'll be right there.”

How come this came up right now? She complained. She couldn't be saddled with a stupid meeting when she had more important matters at hand. She only hoped he would not drag her to that meeting himself. If she got lucky, he might even go away and find someone else to bother and roll his eyes at.

“Okay.” He nodded, hesitantly, almost disbelieving. “But that is not very good of you to appear late. You should set a good example to the next…” His next words trailed off as he realized she wasn't paying attention to him (as if he was worth her while) and was focused on something else. He decided to satisfy his curiosity and kept quiet, raising his brows at her when all he heard was a door creaking open, and then slamming shut a few seconds later. The sound came from just around the corner.

“Anyway, do you know where Harry Potter is?” He asked when everything was quiet again.

“No.” Hermione shook her head. And that was before she realized that standing there talking nonsense with a boy whom she didn't like one bit was eating her time out. After that, she grabbed a hold of Peter's shoulders and turned him towards the stairs. “Listen, I'll be right there. I just have to go check on something I left in the bathroom.” She practically shoved him down the flight. “You go ahead and inform Harry. He's probably down there in the Greenhouses…”

Looking goaded, Peter scratched his head and proceeded down the steps, leaving Hermione with her original thoughts and dilemma.

Now that she was alone again, what should she do? The bathroom was two corners away, and now that she knew it was 5 minutes to the time she should drink the potion, she was certain the other Hermione and Ron were already there, preparing. Maybe she could take a peek…try to get a clue on what she could do.

It wouldn't hurt, would it? Just a peep to know how far along they were with that potion…and besides, she couldn't just stand there, waiting for lightning to strike.

Hermione bit her lip as she neared the entrance and sudden flashes of memories from that very same day came back to her. And from the many things she abruptly recalled, she found these thoughts more important:

1. Ron went out six minutes to half past one o'clock before she drank the potion…

2. He didn't come back even until the moment she had drunk it, which she now remembered, was a minute too early…

3. And the reason that he didn't come back right away was probably because he saw somebody who shouldn't have been there…somebody who had post as a threat of hearing them from outside the bathroom.

If that was the case, who was that person? He could have been anyone. And why was he there anyway? Everybody had been down in the Great Hall for the feast. She and Ron were the only ones who had not attended. And Harry, too, if you would count him, since he was not in the Great Hall, but was with Cho. So, aside from the two of them, who had been on that floor?

Dazed, Hermione stopped in front of Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom, the door facing her squarely. She could hear voices from within. Momentarily, she forgot what she was thinking of as she heard herself and Ron having a conversation, a conversation, she suddenly recognized, they never had before.

And if that wasn't a shock enough, what happened next made her literally lose her breath. New images rapidly flashed in her mind. Brand new memories that are yet to happen to the two people inside the bathroom, but she, as a person who had gone past that time, miraculously knew even though these thoughts had begun to exist only then.

And the next memory that flashed through her mind almost sent her down to her knees. It was a memory of her and Ron in Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom, having the conversation she could hear them having right that moment. And then after a few moments, in her mind, Harry comes barging in looking cross and out of breath.

Hermione stopped thinking about that remembrance and instead focused on a general thought. There was no way any of that could take place. She had disappeared from that time even before Ron could come back to Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom. But she had suddenly gained recollections of him having come back to talk with. And she even had a memory of Harry coming out of nowhere. But she never saw him at all since he had saved her from her fall…

So where did these memories come from?

And another thing…what was going with Ron? Shouldn't he have gone outside already? It was presumably a couple of minutes to 1:30. And that person who had stalled Ron from coming back, where was he anyway? Shouldn't he have appeared by now to stop Ron from returning to Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom?

Among the many questions in her mind, Hermione suddenly found one that bothered her more than anything else…

Where did she fit in any of these scenes?

Nowhere…

But somebody did fit perfectly, somebody who could answer every question she couldn't answer for herself…

But who?

It took Hermione a full second before the name ricocheted in her mind with the strength of a two-hundred pound burden.

Peter Bland.

Replaying the scene she had with him a few minutes ago, Hermione slowly grasped what had been supposed to happen had she not been there. Peter Bland had been looking for her for the meeting and if it weren't for her crossing paths with him a while ago, he'd have turned around the corner at the exact moment Ron had come out and take a look around. They would have probably met and talked and she would have taken the potion without Ron looking on.

It all made sense.

She had done it! She had prevented herself from taking that potion.

But then, shouldn't she have gone already and arrived at this moment, without her other self, of course. What was going on? She had done it, right? But something about the way she was still there bothered her.

Then, she froze…

She had stopped Ron from staying out longer than necessary, but that wasn't assurance enough that he would be able to stop her from taking that potion. It was close to 1:30 and Hermione panicked. This was not going well…and she had no other plan.

She could see it now as if she were inside the bathroom herself. Hermione, picking up the glass, drinking that potion, and going back…disarranging all that has happened in the past year.

No…

She shouldn't let it happen.

She couldn't.

She won't allow herself to.

Without a moment's hesitation, without even pausing to consider what would happen once she's seen, she pushed open the bathroom door and, with her mahogany tresses flying behind her, she charged freely inside and shouted as everything else that mattered became a total blur…

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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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“Stop!”

From her position on the floor of Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom, Hermione looked up at the sound of a very familiar voice. She couldn't believe it when she saw the owner standing a few feet from her. Before she could find her voice to speak, she looked at Ron, who was also staring with wide eyes.

“What…?” Hermione finally spoke, her throat working convulsively to keep her emotions intact.

“Don't take that potion.” The protest came with much force that took her completely by surprise.

“How did you…?” she asked, unable to finish another sentence. Her senses were dazed from having the shock of seeing such a startle and her mind was reeling from curiosity as to what could have brought this situation upon her.

After a long, unbearable silence, Harry spoke. “Ron told me.”

“He did?” Hermione's confused look shifted from him to Ron. “What else did he tell you?” She asked, keeping her eyes on her red-haired friend whose color had suddenly gone pale.

“Everything.”

It took only a few seconds for her to understand and for her expression to change from confusion to accusation. “All I asked of you was a simple favor, Ron. You didn't approve of anything I wanted to do, but you gave me your promise not to tell Harry. I know you didn't want to, but I thought, as a friend, you would at least honor the promise you gave me. But I was wrong. You just couldn't keep this from him. You just had to tell him and hurt me more.” Hermione spat, fury written all over her face.

Ron could only look at her helplessly before seeking help from his other best friend whose appearance had also taken him completely by shock. Hermione had been just about to drink the potion when they heard the door slamming open and Harry emerging on that side after a few seconds.

For whatever reasons, that he didn't know.

“He didn't betray you, Hermione. I made him tell me.” Harry said, taking a tentative step forward as she stood up, the potion in the cup on the floor, long forgotten.

“When?”

“Last night.” Harry confessed. Looking down, he shoved his hands in his robe pockets before bringing himself to gaze straight into her eyes. “When we got back from the lake.”

“The lake?” Hermione repeated. She closed her eyes in anguish, before opening them and then turning back to Ron. “So, everything you told me this morning, was a lie? Who saved me, Harry's robes! His being in the Girls' Dormitory! How could you do this to me, Ron!”

“Hermione, I didn't ask him to save you. He did that all by himself just as he did when you fell this afternoon.” He spoke calmly, splaying his hands in front of her in defeat. “I didn't ask him to carry you in your room. He insisted on doing that. I volunteered, Hermione. I said I would do it because I knew you would react this way if I let him. But he wanted to Hermione. God knows he would have cursed me if I didn't. I only had to see his face to know he was serious.”

“And what you told him? About…about…did he cast the Imperius Curse on you so he can order you to tell him everything you know? Did he make you drink Veritaserum?” Hermione accused. She sneered when Ron looked away in guilt. “Ha! You told him out of you own free will. You couldn't keep your mouth shut because you thought it would be better for me. But what good did it do? Nothing! You just added to my humiliation. And for that, thank you.”

“Something good came out of it, Hermione.” Harry said quietly from behind her.

She turned to him now, embarrassed, gaze heated, body trembling. “And what would that be?” She asked in a sarcastic voice with an exaggerated smile plastered on her face.

“I realized…” He stopped, couldn't find it in himself to say something so vulnerable in front of Ron. Her eyes narrowed at this and so he continued. “With what he said last night, I realized something I should have years ago.”

She crossed her arms, unwilling to be swayed by his words that she, being the smart girl she was, expected to hear next.

“I realized…” He stalled again.

Impatient and unwilling to listen to anymore of his babbles, she straightened out her robes in a formal manner. “I don't have time for this, Harry.” Realizing what she just said, she remembered the potion which she should have taken minutes earlier. Hermione cursed mentally as she admitted to herself that her efforts had been for nothing. She then decided to keep what little pride she had left and made a move to walk past him, when he grabbed her arm to prevent her escape. “Please, just let me go in peace.”

“I love you.”

For a moment, she looked surprised, his words seeping into her veins slowly. She had been about to smile at him for the joy she suddenly felt at his revelation when she realized what he must have meant. Recognition, pity and remorse flashed in her eyes. “As you probably know by now, I am in love with you and have been far too long. But now, I don't think I have it in me to continue. I loved you too much, that's why. It seemed to me before that caring you would give me the strength I need to face whatever pain you would cause. But it never occurred to me that I would grow tired of fighting for you, now that I'm sure you would never do the same for me.” Hermione said with a bitter chuckle, her lame attempt in making the situation light tearing her inside.

“It's just, `loving' someone like you is too much. It's as if whatever I do wouldn't be good enough. Sometimes, even being who I am does not seem all right. And that hurts me so much more than the thought that you just love me as your friend.”

Harry's face relaxed as he felt relief pour into him. “But I don't love you like that, Hermione.” He said as he gently tipped her chin up so he could see her face. What he saw there made his stomach lurch and his heart beat so much faster. He looked steadily into her eyes. “I am…completely…insanely …in love with you.”

This proclamation caused Hermione to gasp in surprise and Ron to stand up.

“You are?” Both of them said at the same time.

“Yes.” His solemn reply earned him a look of pure joy in Hermione's eyes and a loud `whoop' from Ron.

Ron had been grinning before he suddenly remembered. “What about Cho?”

“Just broke up with her.” Harry simply said, not taking his gaze away from Hermione, his eyes smiling into hers.

“You did?” Ron asked unbelievably. Then he grabbed Harry's shoulders, turning him away from her. “That has got to be the smartest thing you've done all year!” He said laughing, giving him a brotherly hug. After playfully rumpling the boy's already messed up hair, Ron turned to face Hermione, who for some reason had gone rigid. “Isn't that great, Hermione?”

She remained silent. Her head low, her shoulders slumped. Harry tentatively stepped towards her and touched her stiff form. She stunned him when she shoved his hands away.

“Is this your idea of a joke?” She asked coldly when he regained his balance.

It was Harry's turn to straighten and look stiff. “What are you talking about?”

“Am I some kind of a charity case to you?”

“What are you talking about, Hermione?” He asked again, trying to make her face him.

“Damn you!” She pounded her fists on his chest.

“Stop it!” Harry tried to restrain her, but for someone so small and fragile, she was strong; strong enough to continue her mad fit, but also strong enough to finally hold back what she felt.

“No!” She pushed him out of the way. “I'm not going to become your rebound!”

“Rebound?” He repeated numbly. “What gave you that idea? You're not a rebound!”

“Really!” She scoffed. “Don't treat me like I'm stupid. You're not in love with me. You just don't trust yourself to be alone without me, your friend, your thinker.”

“That's not true!” He protested, his eyes blazing with fiery anger. “You know I'm better than that!”

“That's where you're wrong.” She said. “I don't know you at all.”

“Don't say that, Hermione.” Ron interrupted. “Harry meant everything he said.”

“And you.” She turned to face him with wrath unseen before. “You side with him because you're just like him. I shouldn't have relied on you for anything. You told him things I trusted you to keep and you betrayed me. You've meddled into my life more than enough and you don't have the right to tell me what to do.”

It was Ron's turn to look murderous, her accusations getting into his nerves more than anything. “I didn't meddle, Hermione. You dragged me into your problem. I didn't ask you to do what you've done here today. I tried to warn you about the risks you're going to take, but you were too stubborn to listen. You think just because you're the smartest witch in our year that gives you the right to do all that you want. Well, guess what? You don't have that right. For a smart girl, you could also be the stupidest.”

With that, he grabbed his things and went out of Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

For a moment, Hermione was too shocked to move. Ron's outburst shook her senses, but she couldn't find in herself to retaliate. She was surprised, not because he was wrong, but more to the point, he was right.

She had been excessively selfish by blaming things on him and not taking into consideration that he tried to help her despite being against her plan. She was hardheaded and she had no right to place all those accusations on him. She wanted to go after him and say sorry, but all that came out of her was a sob as tears began to flow down her cheeks.

Her damnable honor was in the way. And no matter how much sense it would make to just forgive him and turn into him for comfort, Hermione felt as if her wounded pride could no more take another beating by taking back the things she just said. If she did, she would make herself look even more pitiful.

Instead, she chose to place her fury on the person who had been the cause of its birth.

“Laugh all you want, Harry. But I'm not going to be your rebound. So you can just take back your words and tell them to someone else who'll actually believe you.”

“Why can't you believe I'm in love with you?”

“It's a little too hard to believe when you're telling me this right after you broke up with Cho. And when did you realize that you were `in love' with me anyway?” Hermione asked, sarcastically emphasizing the two words.

Harry paused for a moment, looking perplexed. Then he took a deep breath…“Just this afternoon…” He said softly, as if seeing where she's headed with what she had asked and realizing that she had a point. But unwilling to give her the satisfaction of winning instantly, he tried to abstain his guilt by pointing out his feelings of late. “But I've been having mixed thoughts about it since we got into that fight the night we returned from Hogsmeade. And I didn't even know then that you felt that way about me. Doesn't that count for this feeling being real, Hermione?”

“It made you think, Harry, but would it have made you move? You only told me how you felt because you know I feel that way about you. Had Ron not tell you what he did, would you have actually confessed this to me now?”

“Yes.”

“Do I see hesitation there in your eyes, Harry?” She asked. “I may have been blinded by my feelings for you to see how hopeless I had been, but I don't need to see anything to know that you're having second thoughts about me. I can actually feel your regret.”

“If regret is what you can feel in me now, then that is because I've done something I do regret. And that is, telling you this at the wrong time when I have had so many right chance before.” He took a deep breath. “Hermione, please believe me. I do love you.”

Harry couldn't believe that saying those three words could get any easier, but as he looked at Hermione's vulnerable expression, her gaze on his face, he knew that he will never get tired or ashamed of saying them, as long as they were meant for her.

But, even his earnest expression couldn't take away her suspicion. As he stared back at her, with that pale face, thin, disapproving lips, and misty brown eyes, he knew she had shut herself from him. She was no longer staring with an intense gaze. Her heated expression had suddenly vanished and for the first time in the years that he had known her, she had suddenly become no more than a friend to him than Draco Malfoy was. Her icy stare which was numbing his senses, became proof of that.

“Hermione…” Harry reached out for her, but even as his hands barely touched her skin, she flinched as if the mere contact would painful and deadly. What he didn't know was that it was exactly how she would feel; his skin on hers would be like knife slicing through her heart and slowly taking her life away. “Please…” He implored one more time.

“I've done all the understanding I could do.” She said, sitting on heels to gather all her things. When she had her back turned away from him, she swiftly wiped the fresh tears strolling down her cheeks. These stupid tears had been blinding her, and if she had wiped them earlier, she would have seen the look of despair on Harry's face. But she was a mess. Her life was a mess. And that realization was what it took to make her decide she couldn't take any more cruelty. She stood up and walked past him, not caring if she collided with him as she did.

She opened the door. “Just stay away, Harry. Don't come near me again, or I swear to God, I'll forget we were ever friends.”

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A couple of weeks had passed ever since that afternoon of painful accusations and realizations.

Somehow, the rift among the three people who had been deemed as inseparable had reached the knowledge of every existing creature at Hogwarts. And although people had been insensitive to understand that discussing the matter with the trio who were involved was unbearable, they soon began to accept that their personal business was theirs alone and that it should remain personal. So, they stopped badgering and asking. Instead, they supported each of them individually.

Harry and Ron still talked to each other. And though it may seem that two weeks was just a short time, this period had been long and excruciating for the two people who had never been used to being apart. Eventually, they did get together and even managed to laugh when they were in each other's company, forgetting what happened that made them end up in that situation.

The third person involved, however, was not in a hurry to forget things as easily. She was hurt terribly, her pride battered, her heart crushed. Some people even doubted that she'd be able to recover. No one could blame her for thinking the way she did. The timing had not been the most perfect. It could even have been the worst. To Harry and Ron, she wasn't being fair. But to others, who had watched her pitifully through her ordeal, they understood and they even sided with her, however unreasonable it may be.

Life had been perverse to her, and now, she was just giving it a dose of its own medicine.

Hermione had never been so free in her life and neither had she ever been so lonely. She was uncontrolled, free from worrying about people who had magnetism for trouble, yet never had she been more restless.

There were times she wanted to relent and make up so everything would be back to the way they were, but each time she came close to doing so, she would be reminded that there was no chance things were going to be just as where they left it off.

Words had been said, feelings poured, anger unleashed.

No….

She never dared to believe…to hope…things would be the same.

Because it was impossible…and also because most of it was her fault…

That was why; it made her even more persistent to continue what she had ultimately began. She couldn't face them now…not ever.

Today, as she gazed at the sea of faces before her, the microphone before her trembling lips (in honor of their valedictorian, Prof. Dumbledore insisted on doing that part of their graduation the way muggles do), there was a lump in her throat. From up there, she could see the smiles on everyone's faces. Their supportive look and their eyes full of pity moved her to two directions: the happy and the sad ones.

Happy because they liked her enough to understand, and sad because they felt that way with pity for her.

With a small smile, she began her speech…

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“Congratulations, dear!” Hermione's mother embraced her with so much emotion that Hermione actually wanted to cry and crumble in her arms. Mrs. Granger's daughter had just finished her studies and being the valedictorian was the cherry on top of her ice cream. She was so ecstatic over that accomplishment that she failed to see the look on Hermione's face. A look that when seen, any mother would grow weary with alarm.

But as neither of her parents knew what had taken place within the walls of her Alma Mater, neither also noticed anything different. If they saw the sad look in her eyes, they would have probably mistaken it as pain over her leaving school. And soon, they left her to say goodbye to her friends…

Her friends…who were her friends?

Surely not these people who kept sending a smile in her way and congratulating her every chance they get. They couldn't be her friends. They were too friendly, almost robotic. As if it was their duty to become that way towards her.

Why? Because she was alone? If that was the case then she didn't need them at all. She could make it on her own. Couldn't she?

“Hey.”

Someone from behind her suddenly greeted, causing her to turn around swiftly. When she saw who it was, she froze, and for a moment, knew very little on what to do. She was left staring, scrutinizing…judging whether her heart could endure more suffering if she let him in her life again.

But as he sent a timid smile her way, she knew he wasn't like the others who did it out pity or out of duty; he was doing it because he was real. He was there and he wouldn't leave her alone despite her would-be protests.

Not a moment's hesitation passed by before she smiled back…

From a distance, she could hear people chatting lively, celebrating the end and the beginning of their life respectively in and out of Hogwarts. If she were they, she would have been doing the same thing, but she wasn't. She was different, and so was the person she was with right now.

They talked to catch up with what happened over the past two weeks. Things would have been painful, but they weren't. Acceptance and forgiveness had been a part of that talk and now that it was just about done and over with, nothing could have made her day even better…well, perhaps there was one more thing…but that was too great a dream to dream about…for now, this was perfect.

As they continued to enjoy each other's company, they both got caught up with the sunlight streaming in between the tall trees and beneath the one they were under, which reminded them that this place was one of those they would never forget. They used to think here, to plan, and to talk about somebody who had been the greatest part of her life.

And though as if in the twist of fate, her companion couldn't have picked a better time to ask. “Are you sure about this?”

Hermione looked up at his face, masked with freckles and topped with red tresses, blue eyes searching her own. She smiled, her white teeth shining, her eyes sparkling, not with delight, but with regret.

“Well…are you?” He asked again.

Very slowly, but firmly, she nodded.

In answer to her response, he stood up and offered her his hand. She looked at it, hesitating for a while, suddenly wanting to take back her impulsive decision. But as she caught a glimpse of everything around her, she realized that this place had been all about Harry…and no matter what she would do, he'd always be here. But where she was going, he must no longer occupy her thoughts. And if she were to live that way, she might as well forget the many things he made her feel.

Starting now…

Hermione reached up and took Ron's outstretched hand. He pulled her to her feet and didn't let go. Together, they sauntered towards the crowd of smiling faces, waiting for their return. Somehow, Hermione considered that in her entire life, she had probably met only a few whose grins made you really feel cared. Sadly, that few was about to become less.

Without looking back and with a resolute mind, Hermione walked away from the memories this place evoked…away from the life she once knew and cherished with her whole being…and into a new life she was about to begin…

…a life without Harry Potter.

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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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The Liberty Gazette, a monthly issued publication that dealt with political matters in England, had no idea whatsoever why its owner, a certain Hermione Granger, was mutilating it into pieces while reading its content. She was lazily stirring her cup of coffee and giving off a relaxed expression, but beneath that was an irritated demeanor that she was taking out on the poor manuscript.

She didn't know why she subscribed to the publishing company a couple of years ago anyway. The magazine actually made you fall asleep when you're trying to wake up! Maybe it was because she had been trying to find something to occupy her thoughts while she had been away from home and this magazine had been her only option then. It had been a routine for her during the first Monday of every month to read such boring details and spend some minutes poring over unnecessary dates, and she couldn't ban it from her habit, even now that she has returned.

Sitting in a cozy little café along the busy street of London, she waited for the arrival of a visitor who usually spoiled her temper. But even as he approached her, his appearance didn't seem to have any effect on her sunny side mood. “Pray tell me what you want.” She asked as she tossed the crumpled publication aside.

Ron sat across from her and signaled for a menu to a waitress standing nearby. He leaned a bit closer, a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye. “Watch the game tonight.”

She had only been back for a week and, already, he'd approached her six times to invite her to that bloody game he'd been practicing for since he had joined the Scotland Seahorses. “I told you, no.”

“Aw, come on, Hermione!” Ron said, leaning back. “You're my best friend! I want you to see me play. Can't you bend your rule just this once?”

He was talking about her “no-appearing-in-the-magical-world-until-I-am-ready rule”. She shot him an exasperated stare which turned into a disbelieving shake of her head and waited for the waitress to hand him the list of selections before speaking again.

“Look, Ron. I wish I could watch. I really do. But if I did, many people will see me and they'll start asking questions that I'm not yet ready to answer. I need more time.”

“Harry will be there.” Ron pointed in a very cute way that had Hermione smiling warmly at him.

“Then that's one more reason I can't go.” She said slowly. Then, she calmly took a sip from her cup. “He doesn't know I'm back and neither is he aware of why I left. I can't face him now and just throw everything at his face.”

“Which reminds me, why did you leave?” Ron asked matter-of-factly.

Hermione looked at him for a very long time before sighing and setting down her cup. “I wanted to be alone for a while. You know, to sort things out, to see if I could live without him affecting my decisions. I've always done things for Harry. I tried to be somebody perfect for him because he needed someone stable, someone who could help him. I was too busy caring for and worrying after him that I did not realize I wasn't living at all. I left to look for my life and to find out if it exists out of his world.”

“And what did you find?” Ron probed. This was the very first time since she had appeared on his doorstep a week ago that she showed any sign of answering the one question everybody had been asking since she had mysteriously disappeared without a word for two whole years.

An eternity seemed to have passed between her and her memories before she finally recalled that he was waiting for an answer.

“I managed to keep him out of my head.” She shrugged. “I left being who I was hoping that I return the same way, but each time I thought of him, I no longer saw his need of the ever efficient Hermione Granger. That's why I returned a different person.”

“But what are you waiting for? Why do you need more time?” Ron asked.

“I don't know. I just know that it matters that he doesn't see me yet. I've gotten over him now. I'm not about to lose myself when I see him again.” Hermione shook her head, shuddering at the thought of enslaving herself once more under her own emotions.

“But you said you've gotten over him. You can't fall in love with a person whom you've gotten over with.” He pointed out incredulously.

“Yes, you can. And that's what I am avoiding.” Then she flashed him a teasing grin. “Although with you here, I doubt I'll be able to look at any other guy.”

“That's very funny, Hermione. Ha, ha!” He mocked.

“I'm not trying to be funny. Seriously, I've missed you.” Then she felt a terrible tugging feeling in her stomach as she looked at him. “Augh! I wish I could go to that bloody game. I'm being selfish, aren't I?” She exasperated.

“Don't worry yourself about it. You could watch my games after you've shown yourself to everybody. I wouldn't be asking you to come anyway if you hadn't returned last week. So I'll just pretend I don't know you're here.” He winked at her. Then he signaled to the waitress, “I'll have some cheese omelet with pancakes.” He grinned as his stomach growled. “And, make that a double order.”

Hermione stared at him and shook her head in amusement. “I'm amazed, Ron. A lot has changed since we separated, but I can't believe you're still the same person!” She released a deep breath.

“Harry's no different as well. And he's been our friend since we were 11. But I guess you saw him differently than I did.” He asked, his brows rising. His tone was light but Hermione found no reason to smile. She tried to laugh out loud, but the laughter didn't reach her eyes. Even when she found the right words, she couldn't seem to speak.

“Anyway,” He began, sensing her desire of another topic, “Where do you plan on staying? You can't stay in that old apartment forever, can you?”

Hermione looked grateful. “Of course I can't. That's why I'm out right now. I'm hunting for a house this time, not another apartment where an old lady lives next door who keeps on asking for payment every time she sees me. My God! I've only been there for 5 days, and already, she's getting on my nerves!” She muttered. “It's not like I'm wonder woman and I can get a job just like that!” She snapped her fingers to prove her point.

Ron looked like he was trying hard not to laugh. “I've offered you my place, but you won't take it.”

Hermione shuddered inwardly at the thought of his house. “Yes, but that's your place. Besides, I need my own comfort zone. And wasn't it you who mentioned that Harry drops by anytime he wanted to? For all we know, he could pop in while I'm in the shower and he thinks I'm you. I'm not a shapeshifter, nor am I good in disguising my voice, am I? And if that happens, I will be forced to talk to him.” Hermione reminded him.

“What makes you so scared to face someone you've known almost half your life?” Ron asked after a while, when his breakfast was already laid out in front of him and a cup of steaming hot chocolate, compliments from the café owner who happened to recognize his Quidditch robes, was set beside his plate.

She just shrugged. “I have no idea. All I know is that I'm not yet ready to talk to him. I have to think about what to say first.”

“I guess two years didn't change you either, Hermione. You're still thinking about your next move. Why don't you be spontaneous for once and see where it leads you. You'll be surprised where you might end up.” Ron cut a piece from his pancake and ate while Hermione looked on, but he could tell she was not seeing him. He took a deep breath after he had swallowed his food and reached for her hand which was fidgeting on top of the table. “Life's too short to waste on planning what must and mustn't be. I know you know that.”

“That's easy for you to say. You're a guy. You do things impulsively. I can't be like that.” Hermione took her hand away from his hold.

Ron sighed. “Not all guys are the same. So don't go telling me you can't be natural. If you want others to see who you really are, you don't have to plan, or think. All you have to do is act.”

Hermione was quiet for a long time and she began to ponder on what Ron said.

She left a couple of years ago because she wanted to change, to see if she could live without Harry. She did manage to find out that she could as long as she kept him out of her mind. It had been easy, since he was nowhere near her. Even the issues of the Daily Prophet Ron kept sending her, with Harry's name and picture splashed on the front page, couldn't make her remember what it had been like in his presence.

After settling down in her grandparents' house in Scotland, she found a job for herself in the writing trade as a regular columnist and began to acquire some readers as time passed by. She dated more than once in the last couple of years, but nobody seemed to ignite even a spark in her like the one that started the fire that continued to burn in her heart.

The fire that Harry had unconsciously stirred.

And although she no longer seemed to yearn for him, nobody actually lived up to him. That was why she chose to be alone.

She was contented, happy to be by herself after such a long time. But then her seclusion had only been satisfying at some point because the moment she became reflective, she realized that two years away had been more than she could handle without living in the world she belonged to. Life seemed to be incomplete without having in her Hermione Granger, the most brilliant witch of her year. And that was when she decided to come back.

The very first thing she did the morning after she made up her mind was take a magical train to England, and apparate to London where, she knew, Ron was staying. Imagine his surprise when he opened his front door and she was standing on his porch, with him only in his boxers. That had been quite the reunion! Of course, she refrained from hugging him since it would have only added to his mortification to have a female see him in his underwear.

Upon entering his house, she soon found out that even though two whole years had passed, he didn't change one bit. His home was a total mess just like his area of the Boys' Dormitory in Hogwarts had been!

Shirts were strewn everywhere. Piles of dishes almost reached the kitchen ceiling; and his Quidditch paraphernalia were floating around. His mail was actually in heaps and his phone was nowhere in sight. She almost fainted in relief when she saw that the bathroom was at least clean, and his bed room was somewhat made up.

When she'd slipped out that she had no place to stay and he'd offered his house, she almost snorted in front of him. Her? The ever-efficient and organized Hermione, stay in the house of Ronald Weasley? The thought was too absurd to be even considered. Not that she didn't appreciate his generosity, of course.

Ron was still Ron. She figured out that day. And he showed no mark of progressing…but then…with what he made her realize…how could she ever think he was still immature?

“You know what?” Hermione asked after some time, smiling widely at him.

“What?” Ron inquired, grateful for the question after having patiently waited for her to come back to oblivion.

“You have changed.”

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“Is she there?” Harry asked Ron hopefully while they waited for the game to start. They were in the Scotland Seahorses' locker room, trying to keep themselves away from the crowd before the match began.

The team was formed in Scotland, but only God knows why it was now based in London. If it weren't for Harry being an auror, he would actually be a regular member, playing with Ron right now.

The tale of how the Seahorses came to be in their life history was actually simple. Harry stumbled upon their coach one afternoon after playing a brutal game of Quidditch with Ron. He had been playing that way ever since he learned of Hermione's departure. Her sudden disappearance made him so mad he found it hard to be the same man again.

Anyhow, the trainer instantly recognized him and offered him and Ron a place within the team. But as they were both training to become Aurors, they declined.

But some months ago, Ron gave up his Auror training when a player of the Seahorses got injured and was asked to substitute as a guest team member. Having won the match by his spectacular play (a play that he had improved over the years), the owner immediately asked him to be a fixed player. His first game as a regular affiliate of the Seahorses was about to start that night.

Harry usually played whenever the team lacked members, or whenever he felt like it. He would have played the semi-finals that night if it weren't for his mood being so foul because of Hermione's rebuff to meet him.

“I've asked her just about six times in the past week, and always the same answer, mate.” Ron shook his head and looked outside. The clouds were gloomy, and rain was starting to pour.

“I don't get it.” Harry said. “Why can't she just come and face me? It's been three years since we had that fight. Hasn't she gotten over it yet? I have.”

“But you were in the wrong, Harry. Somebody like her just doesn't forget as easily.” He said in a voice so patient that one would immediately realize that the matter had been discussed for so many times and no amount of emotion was needed anymore to emphasize the point. “We've had this conversation since graduation. She wanted to get over you. That's why she chose not to come with us whenever we hang out. She left because she wanted to find out if she could live without you constantly materializing on her side.” Ron said, turning back to face Harry who looked even more gruesome since the day he found out his best friend didn't want to see him yet.

“When did you find that out?” He asked.

“A while ago…” Ron hesitated but saw no reason to lie or keep information from his already suffering friend. “She and I had breakfast together.”

Harry turned paler and his lips became thinner. He was trying hard not to take out his anger on Ron, but it was getting difficult to control his emotions.

Three days ago, he went to one of Ron's practices to remind of him of their visit to Hogwarts and their trip to Hogsmeade. When they were in the Three Broomsticks and were having their usual conversation, Ron had looked tensed every time he brought up the subject of Hermione's absence. Harry saw no reason for him to be uptight about it because he mentioned her every time they were together. It was almost like a custom for him to go on and on about her for more than an hour. And each time he did, Ron was either impassive or sympathetic.

But that time, his friend couldn't quite meet his eyes. As if by looking at them, he will find out something he shouldn't. But he didn't need to press him about that because at the end of their conversation, where Harry looked even more lost and desperate than ever, Ron finally decided to put an end to his misery by telling him that Hermione had finally returned.

Ron only had to look at his best friend's face to see he had done the right thing. Hermione would not be so happy when she found out, but that was the risk he had been willing to take just to see Harry's face light up like it once had.

But then, Harry wasn't smiling anymore the following days after finding out the news, because Ron still felt obliged to at least keep his word to Hermione of not telling Harry where she was. But from that point on, Ron made sure that Harry knew what Hermione was up to, so he would know what to do when the time came, lest he spoil things between the two of them again with his bad timing and wrong choice of words.

“Has she changed?” Harry asked for the first time in the 3 days that he had been acquiring almost anything about her. He was afraid he wouldn't like what Ron would tell him, but as of this point, he had no other concerns. “She might have, because if she hadn't, she wouldn't be so selfish as to refuse a friend's request.”

“Actually, now that you mention it. She did say she felt terrible. She even asked me whether she was being selfish. Course, I told her she wasn't. Logically speaking, I would not have asked her to come had it not been for her returning and you asking.” Ron clamped his hand on Harry's shoulder. “She hasn't changed, Harry. She's still the same Hermione we know and love.”

Harry was about to say something when Ron's stomach growled. Instead, he laughed. “If you ask me, it's you who's still the same, mate.”

In its place, Ron found himself smiling. Harry frowned. “What?”

“It's just, Hermione said the same thing, but she took it back a little later. I reckon it's because I gave her a piece of my mind.”

“You did! Bloody hell, Ron, that piece was all you had!” Harry kidded, looking so serious that Ron gave him a friendly shove.

“You're so funny, Harry Potter, you're making me puke.” Ron said, grabbing the knob on the door of the locker room. “I'll see what's keeping the game.”

“You go ahead. I'll make myself comfortable in my VIP seat.” Harry said, smiling as Ron opened the door.

“Oh? Your VIP seat? I trust you'll have to unearth one on your own, Potter. Get a move on or you will have to find your VIP seat a thousand miles away.” Draco Malfoy said, appearing at the doorway. “It's hard to keep away mad fans, you know. I have to tell them I'm not Draco Malfoy just to save you a spot.”

“Draco. Nice of you to join us. Where's my sister?” Ron peered behind him to look for Ginny. She was nowhere in sight.

“I trust she's out there, trying to cheer up her admirers, while fawning off our places.” He said, shoving his hands in his pockets. Then he scratched his nose. “You know what, Weasley? Up to now, I still can't believe why I allowed her to play for your team. I had enough men trying to catch her attention when she wasn't playing. Now that you've asked her to join, I have more than I can handle.” He complained, stepping aside as Ron and Harry went out. “I can't say I have competition, though. Ruddy gits, the lot of `em.”

“Malfoy, Ginny gets all the attention. And she deserves them, of course. But if she doesn't want to be praised and admired, she should keep those men away, not you.” Ron said, adjusting his uniform. Then, he stopped. “And one more thing, it's not up to you whether she plays. You're not her husband.”

Malfoy looked nonplussed. Then he shrugged as he and Harry walked on ahead. Ron followed suit. There was no one else in the passage; it was quiet, except for the faint sound of a massive crowd, cheering from afar.

“Weasley, I have something to tell you.” He said nonchalantly after a moment. Harry had the feeling he knew what Draco was on about and he smiled inwardly. At least someone's life was about to become better.

“In the first place, Ron, Ginny is with me. So those men should keep their grubby paws to themselves. And we both know your sister; she'll avoid them if she could, but she would feel terrible about it.” He stopped for a moment, gauging Ron's mood.

“Undoubtedly, she would. Although I wonder why she chose to stick with you. You have no feelings whatsoever so rejection wouldn't be a problem.” Ron kidded.

Draco smiled as he realized his mood was pleasant, he then continued. “And I may not have the right to keep her from some things as her husband, but I do have a say in everything she does,” He paused, took a deep breath, and continued, “as her fiancé.”

Silence fell in the air as the other two waited for Ron's outburst. Not of anger or rejection, of course. Both of them knew that he had accepted his sister's relationship with Draco a long time ago. They even included him once in a while in their “nights-out”.

So what are they waiting for?

Actually, they had no idea.

Maybe they were holding their breath for the silence to be broken with Ron's support, which he would undoubtedly give after he had gotten over his shock. Hopefully, he won't decide to give his words of wisdom just yet. The game would most likely begin in a couple of minutes.

Sure enough, after what seemed like decades, Ron finally showed signs of a brother who wanted nothing more than the best for his sister. “I can't say I object, but I don't know what else I can.”

“Try `congratulations'.” Harry offered, keeping his face straight. Watching them like this always gave him the jitters, plus a stomach ache from trying to hold back his laughter.

“Damn bloody right, I should! Ginny's not your everyday kind.”

“You don't have to tell me that. I already know.” Malfoy said, extending his hand for a handshake. “Anyway, thanks.”

Ron took it. “You wouldn't be stopped even if I refused so why bother trying to put off Ginny's insanity?”

“For once, Weasley…I couldn't agree with you more.”

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She shouldn't have come. This was a terrible mistake. Why did she have to listen to Ron's advice about being spontaneous? She just wasn't cut out to be one. All her days of planning and thinking would be for nothing if she was spotted by anybody who could recognize her. And judging by the faces of the people who were seated near her, she knew she was toast if they even see one lock of hair on her head.

Hermione bit her bottom lip in anticipation as she watched Ron and his teammates, zoom in and out of the field in pursuit of the Quaffle, the Bludgers, and the Snitch. She had actually forgotten how brutal the game could be and she couldn't keep her shudders from coming out every time one of the bludgers narrowly missed the players.

Ron's team was leading with 50 points. And she was proud of him for being such a good Keeper. So far, he had managed to keep the other team from scoring for more than 10 times…had it not been for him, the other team would probably be in the lead right now.

Hermione tried to refrain from shouting and giving loud cheers. She disguised herself in subtle green robes with a matching colored cloak and her hair was covered by the hood. Her eyes were covered by dark sunglasses, which made it harder for her to see especially with rain pouring madly from the sky.

Hopefully, those who would see her and wonder why she was wearing such terrible fashion statement would only think she was from another country and was just trying to hide her ridiculous features.

The bell sounded which meant that a break was called. When Hermione focused herself on the game, she saw a player from Ron's team, being carried out of the field. Apparently, he had been hit by a bludger and it was no ordinary hit that could be fixed by magic. What was difficult in the situation was that the player was their Seeker.

From where she stood, she could see Ron's red hair bobbing up and down as the coach magically formed plays that would best be put into action to find a new seeker immediately. For Hermione, that problem was an easy one since she knew one person who was in the crowd who could substitute even without having practiced at all.

Her stomach did a little flop when her eyes landed on Harry. He was there, sitting beside Ginny and Malfoy, their box just beside the Scotland Seahorses'. She did a double take. She almost forgot that Ginny and Malfoy were together when she left. She couldn't believe they were still a couple even after two years had come and gone.

Although she couldn't believe what she saw, Hermione knew that there was nothing wrong about it anymore in the eyes of others. The tiny glimmer that shone on Ginny's left hand was enough proof for her that everything was all right between Ron and Malfoy. With Harry, she never doubted he would give in to Draco's repentance. He always did have a good heart.

Hermione's insides lurch again…

She tried to forget him. She almost managed to, really. Had it not been for her stupidity to go and watch Ron's game! He sounded so sincere that morning about her being impulsive and not thinking just acting, that he had her convinced. She made up her mind days ago that she wasn't going to give in to his request because it wouldn't bode well for her to see Harry again. But no…….she just had to be broken by his words.

She didn't tell Ron she would be watching, though, because he might act totally different and look in her direction every now and then. Such an action would not go past Harry. And she wasn't willing to take the chance.

A sudden movement from Harry's box snapped her out of her trance.

The crowd started cheering madly as Harry got out of his booth with his Firebolt in hand.

So they did think of him…she formulated, as Harry flew over to Ron's side and hovered just outside the Seahorses' resting area. He bent his head as if listening to the coach and nodded. He made eye contact with Ron and signaled. Whatever it was, Ron beamed and started talking to his other teammates.

Another bell sounded; this time…it was for the game to resume. Seven green uniforms and seven blue ones immediately shot into the air and dispersed all throughout the field. Almost at once, Hermione heard the sound of a team scoring, and it wasn't the Seahorses. The crowd groaned. It was the other team, the Canons.

A few more minutes in, the crowd on her side gave another loud cry as a bludger nearly hit Ron. As she watched it saunter to the other end of the field, her eyes landed on Harry, who was near her stands. He was focusing extremely hard. She could tell. His brows were knit together in concentration, and his eyes were narrowed into tiny slits in scrutiny.

It was Hermione's turn to stop and consider. Harry had never been like this before during a Quidditch match. Sure, he had been competitive and he tried to do his best in every game. But he had never been this aggressive, this…hungry for whatever it was he was after. It was almost as if he wanted to get lost in the game and just forget everything else around him. Ron told her he'd been like this since she left, but she couldn't believe it until she saw it herself.

My God! Was he like that really because of her? But that would be stupid! He cared for her as nothing more than just a friend. He would have never changed himself because of her…that was totally absurd. Wasn't it?

“And another 10 points for the Canons! Hoho! I reckon this is not going too well for our Seahorses, folks. They're only up by 30, no…make that 20. Canon's Chaser Burette scores for his team another goal. And still no luck from the home team. It's still raining cats and dogs but I see no signal from the coach to stop the game. And the match continues…” The commentator shouted through the crazy downpour.

Hermione could barely make out his words. A blinding flash of light erupted in the sky, followed by a loud clap of thunder. She was half-hoping that the game be canceled so she could leave, having seen too much of Harry. But her hope was given no attention as each team continued to play for a spot in the Finals.

“Hold on a minute, mates! Was that the snitch?” The commentator suddenly yelled and everyone's eyes seemed to follow Harry's every move, including Hermione, whose hood had fallen off her head, uncovering her face. But no one actually noticed, since they were busy tailing the famous seeker who was whizzing past player after player, and stand after stand. His opponent was a few feet behind him, following him in whatever direction he went.

The snitch, which had disappeared for a moment, suddenly appeared in front of Hermione's stand. It was hovering a few feet away from her and it wasn't darting from side to side at all. Two figures were fast approaching her place and she knew one glimpse of her would be enough for Harry to find out who she was.

Hermione began to turn around and was about to head out when she noted another fast-paced object hurtling toward Harry, as if to block his path. It was only when it was merely a hundred meters away that she realized what it was.

A bludger was coming straight for him! And if he wouldn't turn around to see it, he might not be able to react on time. Hermione bit her bottom lip in anxiety. This was the first time in the last three years she worried over his sake. She forgot her mission to remove herself from there as soon as possible and completely turned around to yell at the top of her lungs, even as she saw Harry tightly clasp the tiny snitch in his outstretched hand.

“Harry, watch out!”

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At the sound of a voice that he knew so well, Harry immediately grew alert. He knew Hermione was somewhere in the stands and he was certain she was watching him. But he barely had enough time to look for her when he turned and swerved away from the pelting bludger that missed him only by a hair's breadth, at the same time that his fist closed, with the snitch inside it.

“Harry Potter has caught the Snitch! Seahorses win the game! They move to the Finals and would be competing with the Irish Deckers.” The commentator yelled in glee as the crowd roared from almost everywhere around them. “That was a spectacular game. Never would have thought he'd catch the snitch on time, though. And with that bludger narrowly missing him! Well, there you have it. Harry Potter is still Harry Potter!” The commentator began crowing his congratulations to the team and then, the crowd began to disperse, all talking about the Quidditch match.

Through all this, Harry suddenly remembered Hermione's presence. He maneuvered his broomstick toward the stand where he was sure he had heard her voice, but was abruptly stopped by six manly figures that shot to him all at once. They began hugging, shaking, and even kissing him, for saving a game once again with his heroic tactics, not that he did something different this time.

When he managed to peer through one of the gaps between his teammates, he saw that nobody was there. Whoever it was had already left. When he finally did get away from them, he immediately flew over to the stand and stood silently, regretting the fact that she might have been watching all along and he wasn't able to talk to her or even lay eyes on her.

From afar, he could see the Seahorses' fans, crowding in the entrance to their locker room, waiting for the chance to see the players. And on the other side of the field; the Canons were slowly piling out, ready to leave the field.

He decided to sit down. From where he was seated, he could see his box at the other side of the field. He couldn't stop himself from cussing as he realized that he could have seen her from his place had it come to his mind that she would not be able to stop herself from watching Ron's match. It was just like her to give in to him. Why didn't he see that before? She must love Ron so much as to abandon her principles and risk being exposed to people who would have so many questions for her.

Harry didn't mean to feel it, but he actually felt jealous of Ron because he had been the one to whom Hermione had run when she returned. He had been the one she had trusted to cover her arrival. Harry couldn't understand her at all. Throughout their years in Hogwarts, he had been the one with whom she confided her problems, not Ron. He never wanted anything more than to keep her safe, yet she couldn't see that, even when he had already confessed all these before.

But this didn't mean she cared for him no less…he reminded himself. He thought of Hermione's warning shout awhile ago. For him, it was enough proof that she still cared for him. If she no longer bothered herself with his sake, she could have just let it hit him. But she didn't. She warned him to avoid that bludger even though she knew he would once he'd caught the snitch.

But even though he knew she still had feelings for him, what could he possibly do? She left, which meant she wasn't willing to talk to him despite that. And how would he even find her? Ron was no close to telling Harry where Hermione was and he doubted somebody else knew where she lived.

He stood up in frustration and walked down the steps, but almost slipped when he stepped on a soggy cloth on the floor. He glanced down to carefully watch his path when the unusual shade of the material caught his eye. He bent down and picked it up only to find that it wasn't just some cloth.

In fact, it was cloak made of rich, velvet material. Whoever owned it would probably be frantically looking for it right now. Such expensive clothing was not easy to lose. He looked around and saw nobody. Shouldn't the owner have noticed it fall off when she, presumably, stood up or walked away?

Unless…no, the thought wasn't reasonable.

Who could possibly run off while the match was going on?

And he also found it hard to believe that the person who owned it left after the match because people were still piling out off the field. Whoever it was would have already noticed the cloak missing, since rain was still pouring, and should have already returned to this place to look for it.

The only conclusion he could come up with was that the person had left while people were still watching. A most likely she could have left in haste and had forgotten that she was wearing her cloak and was now lost in the throngs of people leaving the area.

But all these thoughts came down to one simple question.

Who was she?

Then….

He froze.

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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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Hermione opened the door of her apartment and immediately closed it. She was panting so hard, that it would seem as if somebody had been chasing her. Her heart was beating so fast she could hear its rapid thumps...it hurt. She tried to wipe the mud on her shoes but it still didn't stop her from making a mess as she walked towards her living room, water dripping from her soaked form.

Hermione felt a stinging sensation at her nape as she flopped down on her sofa, not caring whether she wet the couch. She didn't know why but she felt as if someone was watching her. She shook away the thought, naturally assuming the match had unnerved her.

She felt herself shiver and reprimanded herself as she thought of her cloak, which was probably lying on the stands, forgotten and wet. She had left the Quidditch arena so quickly she had failed to notice it had fallen off her shoulders. That was such a loss because her grandmother, who had also been a witch, gave it to her just before she died. Her mother would be terribly mad once she found out what had come of it.

But she couldn't do anything else. Seeing Harry like that, warning him to avoid that bludger had been a dreadful mistake. And as she walked under the rain for some time, she had arrived at the idea that she was a step away from going totally insane.

She knew she still loved Harry despite the years that have come and gone, yet she still hated him. She wanted to be in his life again, but she didn't want to be involved anymore in his affairs.

The thought of him in her life, affecting it, was not something she welcomed. She refused to be involved with him any longer. But she wanted to watch out for him and know that everything was alright where he was concerned.

She sighed in frustration as she stood up and trudged toward her bathroom. Maybe a little shower would mask out her feelings, including the ones she had with Harry. Besides, she needed one, too. Or she might catch a cold or a fever for having walked without care under the rain for over an hour. She turned on the wash and the noise of water whooshing from the faucet drowned out all other sounds around her.

Half an hour later, Hermione stepped out of the bathroom, feeling a little bit more relaxed than she was before, and into the kitchen to get something to drink and eat.

As she rummaged through her freezer, she thought of the things that she could do while she waited for her hair to dry, so she could finally sleep and lose herself in her slumber, and drift away from the memories that seeing Harry for the first time in two years made her remember and miss so much.

She might watch a movie tonight, just to lead her thoughts away from what happened. Or she could just listen to her neighbors argue from the other side of the room -- that had been something she avoided over the past week because she felt it rude to be listening to personal matters, but not tonight, because tonight, she would actually welcome their yells and their cusses, shunning all propriety. And if she got desperate enough, she might actually go and visit her landlady, for some casual talk. And that would be no fun at all.

But she just might…just might…to forget.

After retrieving some left over chips and a can of soda, she walked barefooted to her couch. She sat down, hissed lightly and stood up abruptly as she suddenly remembered that she had wet it when she sat down earlier. As she glided her hands on it to feel the dampness, she was slightly stunned to find it completely dry.

She shrugged the thought away since, logically speaking, it might have dried off. She then started tossing aside magazines to look for her T.V. guide. As she reached across the table, something soft and flowing grazed the back of her palm.

In the darkness of the night, she hadn't noticed it, but as she flipped the switch and light flooded the room, she heard herself gasp in shock.

There, gracefully laid on the other couch was her grandmother's cloak. She still hadn't gotten over her alarm when she heard a rustle of movement a few feet from her. She looked up, but the gasp that threatened to come out of her was blocked by her hand which had covered her mouth in surprise.

Rage replaced her shock as she took a step backward. All of a sudden, the memories that she had kept at bay earlier that evening came, filling her head, shunning away all other thoughts. Over the past two years, she tried to bury these memories away, and had never planned to unearth them again.

But seeing Harry tonight had dug some out, and now, just knowing he was a few feet away, she knew that they were all out, exposed and ready to torment her once more like they did before.

She felt tears well up in her eyes. But even as she spoke, her voice was eerily calm. “Who told you where I live?”

“I'm an auror, Hermione. Remember? I've been trained to track people.” He tipped his head towards the cloak. “The moment I found it, I knew it meant something.”

“I reckon rumors are true, then.” She murmured with belated humor. “You really are a good auror.”

Harry smirked. “Not nearly good enough or I'd have found you right after you left.” He smiled without compassion as he saw her look at him in surprise. “Don't look so shocked, Hermione. Didn't you think I would try to find you?” He said. Then he looked at her sweetly, with sarcasm, of course. “By the way, have you any idea what you put me through?”

Hermione shook her head even and managed to voice out in an audible whisper. “No.”

“Don't bother telling me you don't.” He said softly, still not moving. “You didn't say a word when you left. I couldn't find a trace of you because you didn't leave anything behind. Can you imagine just how many nights I couldn't sleep at all, trying to come up with answers that only you could give me? Up to now, I still don't get why you just didn't tell me you wanted me in your life.”

“Would you have listened?” Hermione said softly, gaining confidence now to reveal her misgivings with him. “I told you before, in Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom to never come near me again, but you didn't listen. You didn't leave me alone to do things for myself. I felt trapped.”

“I had no idea you wanted me completely out of your life.” Harry reasoned out, moving a bit closer. “It might have helped if you added you couldn't stand the sight of me.”

Hermione laughed bitterly, stepping back, his closeness nearly suffocating her, yet suddenly, all she wanted to do was remove the worry away from his mind, and to assure him that she still cared for him.

She sobered without a moment's hesitation, as if giving up all pretenses. “I couldn't do that. I'm not as heartless as you think. I still cared for you despite what I said. I didn't want to hurt your feelings.”

“I didn't get the hint that you wanted me out of your life so you got out of mine. Is that it? If you thought that was your safe way out of not hurting me, you were wrong.” He said thoroughly.

“I know I was, but I had nothing else to do.” She said, exhausted of all the bickering and just wanting to have it end soon. She didn't want to make the matter worse than before. She wanted to have things all right between the two of them, finally, after three years.

“Why did you come back anyway?” Harry asked, shoving his hands in his pocket, wanting to open up a new topic, a new one that wouldn't lead to another debate. He was hoping that by clearing things up between the two of them, they might have some room to become friends again…and more.

“I couldn't bear not seeing everyone again.” Hermione said truthfully, wanting the conversations as much as he did. “Scotland was a nice place to forget. But London is my home. I didn't want to live the rest of my life in a place that isn't my home.”

“What exactly did you intend `to forget'?”

“Things…” She said evasively, her throat working convulsively, as she realized that her answer would stir his anger again.

She was trying hard not to cry, trying hard to ignore the way he was looking at her with those intense eyes of his. From the moment he appeared in front of her, all she wanted to do was have him hold her in his arms.

She now knew she still loved him completely, desperately, more than she did three years ago. No matter how long it had been or would be, she could and would never stop loving him. Yet she couldn't bring herself to say it. He needed answers. He wanted them and she couldn't give them because she realized once he knew everything, he might not want to be with her anymore.

“To forget me?” Harry asked, helplessly.

Hermione couldn't look at him straight in the eye and he felt a strong sense of loss and depression. Harry had not believed what Ron told him, hoping that it was just something she told him to stop Ron's questions, but seeing her reaction now, looking at her while she couldn't seem to meet his gaze; it was like pulling the world from under him.

“Why?” He asked, bracing himself for her answer. He was afraid she would tell him she no longer loved him.

“Because I couldn't bear to think you said you loved me just so you wouldn't be alone. You saying that after breaking up with Cho shattered all my thoughts of you saying those words to me because you really wanted to be with me, not just because you were suddenly alone.” Hermione said, voicing out the cause that she once thought was reasonable.

Harry could only stare at her in disbelief. Harry could “God! It's been three years, Hermione, and you still keep holding that against me. I told you before. I never said that just to have you become a rebound.” He said with a horrified look on his face.

“What else was I to think?” She countered defensively. “You've always liked her. How was I supposed to believe that you gave her up, your lifelong fantasy, for someone like me?”

“Someone like you?” He asked.

“Yeah, someone like me, a repulsive know-it-all with nothing to give you but stupid lessons and equations.”

“Why do you keep on downplaying yourself? Can't you believe that looks aren't everything? Do you actually think of me as superficial to just like somebody because of how they look?” Harry asked her, looking quite edgy.

“No. It's not that.”

“Then what is it?” He asked. Then he shook his head when she started to open her mouth in reply. Instead, he rubbed his hand at the nape of his neck and let out a long sigh of frustration.

“What?” Hermione challenged firmly.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You just did.”

“Since when did you start making jokes?” He said without humor. “Do you even know why I broke up with Cho?”

The question had been absurd and she was about to say how ridiculous it was when she realized that during the three years that had passed, she never asked or bothered to find out the reason. The subject never came up after that day in Moaning Myrtle's Bathroom and she didn't realize it hadn't, so even until now; the answer was still a mystery to her.

Harry smiled at her silence. He already knew and had accepted that mistake of hers. All the suffering he had endured was simply because of a misunderstanding both of them had forgotten to clear. He could have blamed her for her lack of insight, but then, he would also have to blame himself for not having the initiative to offer the information.

He decided to put an end to both their miseries and explained, smiling in spite of himself. “After you told Ron to tell me to leave the Hospital Wing, I had gone to take out my anger in the Quidditch Field. When I went down, Cho was there. But because I was too preoccupied to pay attention to her, she accused me of not wanting her there. Although I said it wasn't the reason I was distant, I knew that I would rather have her someplace else than beside me. All of a sudden, she had this sudden urge to say things about you and that was when I felt something was wrong between us.” He shrugged.

Hermione couldn't believe what she was hearing. Was all of it true? If it were, then what were those years of her being alone for?

In the depth of her silence and thinking, Harry continued. “It didn't feel right. And with her mocking you every chance she got, I couldn't take it anymore. So I did the only thing I felt then was right. I told her I loved you. As I did, I knew that I had been a complete idiot about it. I should have realized that earlier and I wasted so much time looking like an idiot. It would have been useless to go on knowing how I felt.” He grinned at her for an unknown reason.

Then he took a step forward, Hermione moved back involuntarily, but her couch blocked her escape. She was left standing only less than a foot away, yet despite the protests her mind was screaming, she couldn't make herself move. She slowly felt the barricade she had carefully erected between the two of them crumble as his eyes, those glorious green eyes of his, looked down on her own.

“You always held my confession against me, Hermione.” He said, having the nerve to skim his palms down her arms. He felt her shiver and grinned. He reached up and brushed back tendrils of her hair behind her ear. “I admit I said it at the wrong time. I should have waited another day, but you were going back to risk your life just to tell me something I already knew. I couldn't think of anything else to make you stay. If you ask me, I wouldn't have had it any other way.”

Hermione brushed away his hand. “I can't do this, Harry.”

“Why?” He frowned, his hand stilling in the act of caressing her cheek.

“It's too soon.”

“But you love me, don't you?” he asked, cupping her face in the palm of his hands, and then looking at her eyes, searching for the answer he already knew.

“I don't know…yes, maybe.”

“That's all I need to know…”

Without another word, he had her in his arms and his lips were suddenly on hers, moving with quiet intensity and purpose. Hermione's eyes widened in shock at the first contact, but as his mouth moved over hers softly, persistent and sweet, she let out a sigh, closed her eyes and lost herself.

Sensing his victory, Harry claimed it and tightened his hold on her. Having her clutch his arms in support was like inviting a starving man to a banquet. Without inhibitions, he took the invitation. He deepened the kiss as he poured every ounce of his emotions into it.

He had pictured this moment every night since the day she left, but what was happening now was like nothing he'd imagined. Long before, he had given up the idea that he could feel this someday. And even now that it was happening in reality, he couldn't stop asking if the woman he had in his arms was really the woman he loved.

Hermione couldn't think at all.

Harry was kissing her…

And it was not just the kiss…it was the whole thing. He loved her. He really did.

A thousand different nights, she had fantasized this moment. Now that it was here, she could no longer hold her emotions back because of the happiness she felt. After all those years of misery, Harry was here.

With all the passion she had in her heart, she released her hold on his arms and slid them up his chest to link them behind his neck. As she did, she suddenly realized that it was not right to be doing this, nor was it entirely wrong, but still, it was happening too fast.

She felt tears on her cheeks and was about to wipe them when Harry pulled away. He looked at her with concern, green eyes searching hers. Hermione had the feeling that the sudden graveness in them was because he thought she didn't want any of it.

Abruptly, he let her go and shoved his hands in his pocket. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that.”

Hermione looked at him, feeling desperate and sorry that it had to end, but they had to talk about the three years that had gone by and not just act as if a simple kiss would make up for all the times that they had both been stupid.

“No, you shouldn't have.” She replied. Then she touched his cheek and purposefully made him look at her. “But I would have hated you if you didn't." She smiled at the confusion that had suddenly materialized on his face. It's just; I can't believe this is happening. We haven't cleared things between us. I haven't apologized to you for what I did.”

Harry laughed, feeling lightheaded all of a sudden. “I told you before and I'll say it again. I wouldn't have had it any other way.”

“But…”

He cut off her protest with a light kiss and pulled back quickly. “Don't say another word. I wouldn't listen to any of it. Besides, it was my fault just as it had been yours, so there's no use apologizing and feeling terrible because we both did what we wanted to do. And we got to the end of it, which is a very good one, might I add.”

“Oh, Harry. We can't just act as if things didn't happen.” Hermione groaned, looking away.

After staring at her with questioning eyes, he sighed in defeat, knowing that she wouldn't be swayed. He sat down and pulled her beside him. After silently staring at nothing for a few minutes…

“Harry.”

“Hermione”

They said in unison. And then they laughed. The tension that they felt over what happened lessened.

“You go first.” Harry offered thoughtfully.

“I'm sorry about not giving you the chance to explain. I should have let you. I just couldn't think straight, knowing it was impossible for you to suddenly love me after Cho." She shook her head remorsefully. "I'm sorry that I left. I was angry and bitter at you. I thought that by doing that, I could get my revenge. But all I got was a couple of awful years.”

Harry took her hand in his. “You shouldn't be saying that. I should have been with you from the start. I'm not saying I approve of you leaving, though. It did really get to me.” He said seriously, and then he grinned at her. “But that's over now. Let's just forget it, all right? What matters is that you're here,” He leaned over and gave her a sweet fleeting kiss, “With me.”

“I don't know what else to say. I just feel guilty about hurting you.” Her voice broke and Harry felt his heart ache with compassion.

“Sweetheart, if you're that worried about me, then I should be more troubled.” Harry asked her, turning her face towards his so that he could look in her eyes.

“Aren't you?”

“No.”

She frowned at this, and he had to chuckle as he saw her expression. “Because I intend to make it up to you.”

“When?”

“Now.” He said, lightly brushing his lips against hers, “Tomorrow,” Another kiss, “And the day after that…” Another kiss.

“We don't have to rush things, you know. I don't expect you to offer the world to me in just one night.” Hermione said, her throat working convulsively.

“Sweetheart, I've been waiting for this moment for three years. You want the world? It's in my closet; I'll give it to you first thing in the morning.”

“Harry, don't be like that.” She said, but despite that, she laid her head on his shoulders, feeling quite sleepy. “It's enough for me to know things are all right between us. Finally.”

“Yeah. And to think, you were not going to talk to me.” He chuckled.

“I just couldn't because I was sure you'd make me love you again.” She said, yawning.

“And did I?” he asked solemnly, hoping her answer would be yes.

Silence.

He glanced down, thinking that she didn't want to answer him, but smiled instead, when he saw that she was fast asleep. Without another word, he lifted her from the sofa and searched for her bedroom.

Looking around, he only saw two other doors aside from the front door. Knowing she had taken a shower behind the other door, Harry went to the other and opened it. Sure enough, it was her bedroom.

Not bothering to switch on the lights, he laid her on the bed and tucked her under the covers. Somewhere in his distant mind, he vaguely remembered a moment like this, three years ago, when he had saved her from drowning. Back then, he had no right to touch her or feel the way he felt right now.

But things had changed, and here he was now, free to look at her, free to touch her, and free to love her. He never thought this day would happen, but dreams come true, and this woman right here, was enough proof that they do.

He leaned down and kissed her lightly on the lips. “I love you.” Harry said as he straightened. “I hope you believe that now.”

He had already turned around to leave when there was movement from behind him and a hand came in contact with his. He looked back and saw that Hermione was somehow awake, her eyes barely open and her mouth lightly apart. “Stay.” She said.

For a moment, he hesitated. “You sure?” He asked, bemused.

She nodded. Silently, he eased her hold on his arm and sat down on the edge of the bed. He took off his shoes and shrugged out of his cloak.

When he was done, Hermione lifted the covers so that he could slide in and Harry lay on his back. She moved closer and laid her head on his shoulder, reveling in the feeling of being close to him. She sighed dreamily and laid her hand on his heart. Harry found himself smiling as he placed his own on top of hers.

“Goodnight, Hermione.” He said quietly, placing a kiss on her forehead, and then closing his eyes to the world.

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Hermione knew that Harry was already asleep the moment she opened her eyes to look at him. She smiled. He was here, with her.

As she looked at his face, a tingling sensation made Hermione remember a question he asked that she wasn't able to answer. Wanting to give him a reply even though he was already sleeping, she moved closer, her mouth an inch from his ear. “You didn't have to make me love you again, Harry.” She whispered, smoothing the hair on his forehead, she caught a glimpse of his scar, and then, she kissed his cheek lightly before adding. “I never stopped.”

Suddenly his muscles flexed and his hold on her tightened. Somehow, he had heard her. That feeling, and the smile that suddenly was on his lips, was what she took with her in her sleep.

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