Loving Lupin

"Hey Ron, what's taking you so--" Harry stopped dead in his tracks.

"What could have happened?" whispered Ron, slipping his hand under Hermione's head.

"Got knocked out," muttered Harry, moving closer to the bed. "But how?"

"Who knows," replied Ron darkly. "But we'd better get her to the Hospital Wing."

"Agreed." Harry nodded, taking hold of Hermione's legs and helping Ron carry her down the stairs.

            * * *

In the Hospital Wing, Madam Pompfrey gave one look to Hermione and gasped.

"That poor girl!" she exclaimed, rushing around to find something to help her. "It's one thing after another!" She gently opened up Hermione's mouth and dripped a steaming potion into her throat. In less than three seconds, Hermione began to sputter and cough, and suddenly, she was awake.

"Hermione!" cried Ron. He had gone very pale. "What happened?"

"Malfoy," she mumbled, blinking wearily up at Ron. "Malfoy... Ginny... My diary..."

"What're you talking about, Herm?" muttered Ron.

Harry glanced up at Madam Pompfrey, who he noticed was listening with a particular interest. Hermione and Ron's glances followed, causing her to purse her lips and turn around. She had gotten the hint that the three wanted their privacy.

"Listen," whispered Hermione, grabbing Ron's hand. For someone who looked so weak, she had a surprisingly strong grasp. "Malfoy had Polyjuice Potion... He came as Ginny... He read my diary... He knows, and now the whole school knows, too."

"Uh-oh," said Ron nervously. "That can't be good, can it?"

"No, it can't," said Harry, swallowing hard in anxiety.

"Well, what's it matter, anyway?" asked Ron fiercly. "If anyone bothers you about it, I'll bash their face in!"

Hermione giggled. "Thanks, Ron, I think."

To emphasize this idea, Ron cracked his knuckles threateningly. Harry simply shook his head. Even though Ron and Hermione were taking this lightly, he couldn't help but feel Hermione was in for a long haul of teasing and ridicule. He'd been through it himself, and it certainly hadn't been a pleasant experience.

"When do you figure I can get out of here?" asked Hermione. "I feel fine."

"Do you, then?" Madam Pomfrey bustled back over to her bed, eyeing her like a hawk. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, Madam Pompfrey," replied Hermione eagerly.

"All right, then. There doesn't seem to be any major damage," remarked Madam Pomfrey, still eyeing Hermione as if she might explode any moment. "You may go."

Hermione happily hopped out of bed and allowed Ron and Harry to walk her to the Great Hall.

"I was very worried about you, you know," mumbled Ron. "We were afraid you were dead or something."

Harry nodded.

"I wasn't dead," she laughed. "Just a little injured from Malfoy's disarming spell."

"That git," growled Ron, cracking his knuckles again. "Once I get my hands on him, I'm going to do the worse curse ever invented-- I swear I'll--"

"Shh, Ron!" whispered Hermione.

To their grim amusement, Malfoy was strolling towards them, a smirk on his face. As he noticed Hermione, Ron, and Harry, he smiled brightly and laughed.

"Well, if it isn't Granger, Lupin's lover," he cackled. "Tell me, how does he kiss? I'm surprised his fangs don't get in the way."

"You!" spat Hermione, swinging her fist at him. Malfoy merely laughed and stepped backwards, avoiding her hand.

"I was just curious. After all, I've never snogged a werewolf. Did you have fun snogging him, Mudblood?" mocked Malfoy, pretending to be genuinely interested.

"Shove it, Malfoy!" snarled Ron, his hand plunging into his robe pocket for his wand.

"Hold it, Weasley," he laughed softly, his eyes wandering to Ron's hand. "I'm not about to duel with you. Why don't you go duel Lupin for the Mudblood's love?"

"NOW you've crossed the line!" yelled Ron.

"Stop, Ron!" squealed Hermione, grabbing his arm. "Let's just go."

Ron threw Malfoy one last evil look before following (well, more like being dragged by) Hermione and Harry down the corrider.

"That... I'll... Argh!" Ron swung his fist into the air, emphasizing what he meant to do to Malfoy.

"Ron, it doesn't matter," snapped Hermione, exasperated. "I don't care, and neither does Harry so you should just--"

"Hello, Miss Granger, Mr. Potter, Mr. Veasley," said a soft, ghastly voice.

The trio whirled around to face Professor Zochnik, who had an odd smile on her face.

"Haffing trouble, are you?" she asked peacefully, stroking some of her mousy-brown hair back from her face.

"No, we're... we're fine," stuttered Harry. "Let's go," he added to Ron and Hermione in a mutter.

"No need to lie, Mr. Potter. I know vat troubles you three. He vood trouble me as vell, if I had known him."

"Did you know his father?" asked Hermione, placing her hands on her hips.

"No. I attended Durmstrang. I lived my whole life in Austria before coming here," she told them lightly, pride flickering in her eyes.

"Um.." Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione. "We've got to go now, Professor. It was nice talking to you."

"If you ever need any help, please come to me," she said softly. "I am alvays here."

"We'll remember that," muttered Hermione, grabbing Ron and Harry's arms and leading them down the hall.

"She's a bit odd, don't you think?" said Hermione later that day while they were in their common room.

"Why do you say that?" asked Harry, flicking back a page in one of his spellbooks.

"She's always there," remarked Hermione thoughtfully. "Everywhere I turn, she's there. With those eyes..."

"Aw, Herm, you're too sensitive," replied Ron, yawning. "Maybe she's just helpful."

"I don't know." She pursed her lips together. "I really just don't know."

"Cool off, Hermione," yawned Ron. "You take everything so seriously."

She rolled her eyes at him, tutting irritably. "You trust everyone, don't you?"

If there was one particular thing Hermione should have not have said at that moment, it was that. Ron leapt to his feet, growling like a harassed cat. His face was a dangerous red, and even his freckles seemed to be lighting up like traffic lights. When he spoke, it was easy to see that he was struggling to keep his voice controlled and low.

"I do not trust everyone," he hissed, his eyes flashing. "I can't believe you'd even say something like that."

"I didn't mean anything," snapped Hermione, picking up a book and hugging it to her chest. "Honestly, must you take everything as an insult to your ego?"

"Hermione..." mumured Harry. He looked up at her disappointedly. There was no real reason for her to shoot her mouth off at Ron, except maybe because she was feeling low about Lupin or agitated by the new teacher... Or a combination of both.

"What, Harry?" she snarled, dropping the book to the floor. "Taking Ron's side again? I should've known!" Tears quickly filled her eyes and cascaded down her cheeks like minature streams.

"Hermione!" exclaimed Ron, alarmed. The red color in his face was slowly beginning to trickle away, and it was replaced with a look of anxiety for his best friend. "C'mon, Herm, no one meant anything..." He shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

"Oh!" she sobbed, rushing towards him and flinging her arms around his neck.

Ron choked and sputtered, then reluctantly placed his arms around her waist. He's so enjoying that, thought Harry, chuckling to himself.

            * * *

The end of the year was quickly approaching. The three young Gryffindors had less than a month left before they would cease to be fifth-years and would move up into their sixth year. Harry and Ron were fretting about their O.W.L.s, but Hermione found that she was more distracted than usual lately. Many long nights when she should have been studying were spent mooning about, staring at her R.J.L ring, reading and writing in her diary, and simply looking lovesick. Harry noticed this and was concerned.

"Aren't you going to open a book tonight, Hermione?" he joked anxiously one evening.

She blinked distractedly. "What?"

"A book, Miss Granger, a book," quipped Ron, stepping out of the boy's dormitory with a huge grin on his face. "Ever heard of one?"

"Of course I've heard of a--" she began to snarl, but stopped when she saw the worried smiles on her friend's faces. "Well, what are you two smiling about?" she demanded.

"Nothing, Herm, but... Don't you think you should be studying?" Harry pointed to the little journal in her hand, which Hermione had been writing in for the last hour.

"Oh... Studying?"

"Yeah, studying!" Ron glowered at her, his hands running over the musty cover of a book. "What's with you lately? I haven't seen you read any word of any book in the last few weeks. Even Harry and I are studying," he added, exasperated.

"I guess I just don't care anymore," she snapped back, hugging her diary to her chest and settling on a red chair in front of the fire.

Harry glanced at Ron, then pointed towards Hermione. The red-haired, freckled teen shook his head, paling slightly, but after Harry gave him an even sterner look, he obeyed. Taking a deep breath, he strolled over behind Hermione and carefully laid his hand on her shoulder. She immediately turned around and gave him a puzzled look, but she didn't try to move his hand away.

"Hermione, I'm just... worried about you," he finally choked out, his once-pale face now going bright red. "You haven't seemed yourself lately."

"Well, thanks," retorted Hermione. I really can be nasty, she thought sadly, directing her eyes back on the glowing flames from within the fireplace.

"I'm just trying to help, you know," he snapped, finally out of patience. "You don't have to accept my help if you don't want it. Fail the O.W.L.s for all I care!"

Harry moaned to himself and slapped his hand to his forehead. Meanwhile, Ron had stalked off to the boy's dormitory again, leaving Hermione alone in front of the fireplace. Leave it to Ron to mess things up even worse, thought Harry grouchily. Now he'd have to deal with Hermione himself, and he didn't expect it to be easy.

"Herm?" he murmured, taking a seat next to her by the fire.

"Oh, just leave me alone, Harry!" she said squeakily. Harry noticed that her eyes were suddenly very red. "I just want to be left alone."

"He likes you, you know," Harry blurted out. "That's why he's being so funny."

"What?" exclaimed Hermione incredulously, forgetting her woes for a moment and turning her amazed eyes onto Harry.

"You heard me," he muttered uncomfortably. It wasn't like him to give away his best friend's secret, and he felt terribly guilting for having done so.

"Well," said Hermione softly.

"You won't tell him I told you, will you?" asked Harry anxiously, studying Hermione's expression.

"I don't know," she replied, an unusually bright smile lighting up her face.

"Don't tell me..." Harry began to laugh. "Do you?"

"I don't know that either," she said happily, tossing her book down on one of the tables and standing up.

"You certainly seem pretty glad about it," he remarked, a smirk crossing his previously anxious face.

"I am," she gushed, a sudden girly quality overtaking her normally stoic demeanor. "Oh! Does he really?"

"Yeah," replied Harry. "For the longest time, too..."

Hermione hesitated for a moment before mumbling, "But Lupin..."

"Him again?" said Harry sharply. "Don't you think it's about time you forgot him?"

Immediately Harry realised that he shouldn't have made such a remark. Hermione turned on him, her eyes extremely dark.

"I'm not going to forget," she breathed, her nostrils flaring with fury. "I love him. You keep forgetting that!"

"But he's not here, is he?" suggested Harry, glancing up at her to read her face for anger. "But Ron is. And Ron likes you. Why mope around for a man you'll never be with when you've got a boy who likes you and is here right now?"

Hermione lowered her lids over her big brown eyes. When she reopened them, Harry noticed that there were tears quivering beneath them. "It's only common sense, isn't it? Yet I can't stop loving him. I love Ron, too, but not like I love Remus... Professor Lupin," she added, noticing the revolted look on Harry's face.

"Someday," Harry murmured, standing up and putting his arm around Hermione. "You'll forget."

She gave him a weak half-smile. Harry was comforting, but he didn't understand. He never would.