Hermione Granger and the Half-Blood Prince

Jealousy and love are sisters.

--Russian Proverb

**

"Bloody hell!" Ron roared in irritation as he sidestepped a swarm of nervous first-years gaping wonderingly around them. He had almost stepped on one of them who was oddly crouched over to examine the carpet. The little girl apparently found absolutely everything about the train to be utterly fascinating. "There were not this many of us when we were that age," he informed Hermione with annoyance.

Hermione was pretty certain there were, but she didn't say a word. She just kindly smiled at the students as they passed and continued their way down the passageway. "Let's keep going," she told Ron. "We're almost done."

Ron begrudgingly complied. "This is taking forever," he complained. Hermione nodded in agreement; it was taking almost double the time to patrol the train as usual. It hadn't helped that the prefect meeting had taken longer due to the long, explicit explanation of the new security measures being placed on the castle. Hermione was starting to wonder if she and Ron were going to see Harry before they arrived in Hogsmeade. "I swear," Ron continued angrily, "if one more person asks me about Harry--"

He trailed off and cracked his knuckles to illustrate his point. The reason it was taking so long to patrol was because people kept popping out of their compartments or calling the pair of them in to interrogate them about Harry being the 'Chosen One'. After the fourth time it had happened, Ron had wanted to ignore all of the students who tried to speak to them, but Hermione wouldn't allow it. One of those students could have a legitimate concern that they needed to take care of. They couldn't take that risk. For all they knew, someone had seen a suspicious figure sneak onto the train. Hermione folded her arms over her chest and hugged herself to ease her tension. All of that increased security in King's Cross had really set her ill at ease. It was as though everyone expected something horrible to happen today.

"Ron!" Lavender Brown waved merrily from inside of her compartment and indicated that he should join her, Parvati, and Padma.

Ron groaned. "Not again," he moaned.

"Psst! Hermione! Ron!" Seamus Finnigan popped his head out of his compartment across the hall and two doors down from Lavender's. "Get in here!"

Ron groaned again. Hermione quickly looked back and forth between their awaiting classmates, assessing the situation. If someone asked Ron about Harry again, he wouldn't care if they were a Gryffindor: they would still receive a punch in the nose. But even in the most agitated state, Ron would never hit a girl. "Okay, you go see what Lavender wants, I'll talk to Seamus," she suggested. "I'll meet you back here."

Not bothering to answer, Ron glumly shuffled into Lavender's compartment and shut the door behind him. Hermione walked over to Seamus who held the door open for her. She nodded politely to the tall, wiry seventh-year Hermione didn't know who was leaning curiously against the window. They were the only two in the compartment but there were four trunks stowed in the overhead luggage racks. Hermione could see the 'G.W.' engraved in on of them: Ginny's. The other one must be Dean's. The happily newly reunited couple must be out alone to celebrate. "What is it, Seamus? Ron and I have to get back to patrolling."

To her mild surprise, the boy at the window was the one to respond. "So is it true?" the boy asked eagerly. "About Potter?" He wagged his fingers to make mysterious quotes in the air. "The 'Chosen One'?"

"That's really none of your business, is it?" Hermione replied stiffly. That was her standard reply whenever someone had tried to coax that information out of her.

Normally, it had worked, but not now. "Come on, Hermione," Seamus wheedled. He had stretched out across an entire row of seats, his school robes untidily bunched together as a makeshift pillow, arm slung lazily over his head. Apparently, he expected her to relent rather easily. She remained next to the door, arms still folded over her chest but this time in stubborn defiance. "You know. Harry told you, didn't he?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Hermione said blandly. She looked over her shoulder to see if Ron was finished with the compartment he had been called into. The corridor was still empty. "I better find Ron--"

"But he's faced You-Know-Who loads of times and survived," the seventh-year boy interjected again. He pushed himself up and Hermione registered that he really was quite a big boy: she reckoned he was as tall as Ron. "He's the only one who has. He has to be."

"You were with him that night in the Ministry," Seamus picked up eagerly. "You must have heard something."

"No, sorry, afraid not," Hermione said shortly. She gestured again to the door. "As I was--"

"Hermione, please," Seamus begged. "We can't ask Harry about it. You know what he's like!"

Her fist tightened around her wand. Yes, she knew what Harry was like. He was one of the most wonderful people in the world. She wouldn't have anyone bothering him about this. Harry was going to have enough to deal with this year. "Fine," she snapped impatiently. "Don't ask Harry. I wouldn't recommend that anyway. But if you really want to know if Harry is the 'Chosen One' destined to defeat You-Know-Who--" She wrenched open the door of the compartment. "--go ask Voldemort." She shot them a contemptuous look as the two boys flinched as one. "And learn to say his name!"

She slammed the door shut, but not before she heard the seventh-year remark with almost perverse admiration, "She's certainly a feisty one, isn't she?" Hermione rolled her eyes: boys.

Ron hadn't returned yet so Hermione crossed back to peek into the compartment he had disappeared into. He was standing uncomfortably near Lavender's seat, looking quite as though he didn't know what to do with himself. Lavender was beaming up at him, twirling a lock of her hair around a coy finger in a slow, alluring, hypnotizing manner. The Patil twins were sitting on the other side of the compartment and watching the scene with extreme interest, as if there was something very intriguing going on, such as a new couple blooming on the horizon...

Hermione banged loudly into the compartment, causing Ron and Lavender both to jump and Padma and Parvati to shoot her an annoyed look. "Hi, Parvati, Padma, Lavender," Hermione greeted in a louder, cheerier voice than normal. "Good summer?" Parvati nodded. "Good." She smiled at Lavender who gave her a look full of pure venom. Hermione ignored it. She had faced much tougher than Lavender Brown. "Ron, we better get back to patrolling."

"Yeah," Ron agreed. He looked positively bewildered. "See you," he said to the three girls before following Hermione out into the corridor. An explosion of the girl-iest giggles Hermione had ever heard assailed their ears. He scratched the back of his head. "Girls," he muttered.

"Did they ask you about Harry?" Hermione asked although she had a fairly good idea that they hadn't.

"No," Ron answered. "She just wanted to say hello." He glanced perplexedly over his shoulder before increasing his stride. "I dunno what's gotten into her. First, she writes me that letter--"

"Lavender wrote to you this summer?" Hermione almost shouted with shock. Ron had been distracted this summer by not one pretty blonde, but two?

"Yeah, she--"

"What did she say?" Hermione interrupted.

"Just now or in the letter?"

"Now--the letter--both," Hermione stumbled, feeling her cheeks flush. Despite all of her brains, she suddenly felt like the stupidest person on earth. Ron often had that effect on her.

"She just said hello, she hoped I was doing better after my accident, how I was so brave, blah blah blah," Ron said disinterestedly. "And she said the same sort of thing now--that she was glad I had a good summer, she missed me..."

He shrugged, a small smile playing at his lips. Her heart froze. Ron was eating this up. He never had received that sort of attention before; Hermione was the only one who had been interested in him in that way and she obviously was much more subtle about expressing herself to him. Lavender however was practically throwing herself at him. No one had ever acted that way about him. It was perfectly natural that Ron would like that attention. Hermione had certainly enjoyed it when Viktor had falteringly informed her that he came up to the library everyday to try to talk to her, that he had never felt this way about a girl before, that she was so special and beautiful. Even though she personally wasn't interested in Viktor in that way, she couldn't help being flattered nevertheless: who wouldn't be flattered if they were gazed at as though they were the most beautiful creature on earth?

It was also perfectly natural for Hermione to suddenly feel as though she had been pushed out of the Hogwarts Express while it passed over a bridge and was free falling, hurtling down into some dark, unimaginable place where she could never return. She passed a hand through her hair to compose herself. "I didn't know she wrote to you," she said immaterially.

Ron caught the slight edge to her voice and shot her a sour look. "I forgot," he said shortly. He paused meaningfully. "Did Vicky write to you?"

Hermione just pursued her lips and stalked ahead. So they were still playing that game, were they? When was Ron ever going to learn that she and Viktor were just friends? She only slowed her stride when she realized that Ron wasn't following her, preferring to remain behind and make a rude hand gesture. "Ron!"

"He did it first!" Ron yelled childishly, pointing into one of the compartments. Hermione returned to his side so she could peek into the compartment holding Blaise Zabini, Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, and Draco Malfoy. Malfoy wasn't even looking in their direction, but he caught Hermione's movement out of the corner of his eye and looked back. With one contemptuous glance, he returned his attention to his friends. "Well, he did!" Ron insisted.

"And all you could think to do was return it?" Hermione said dryly although she didn't take her eyes from the Slytherins' compartment. The boys were ignoring her--probably under Malfoy's orders--but Pansy gave her a sneer. Hermione grabbed Ron's arm to steer him away, feeling a bit out of sorts. Everything seemed to be turning upside down: Malfoy was no longer openly mocking them, Lavender was flirting with Ron...

She let go of Ron's arm and they finished patrolling in silence. They finally found Harry's compartment, much to their relief, and entered. Ron of course started talking immediately about the number one thing on his mind: food. "Wish the lunch trolley would hurry up, I'm starving," said Ron longingly, slumping into the seat beside Harry and rubbing his stomach. "Hi, Neville. Hi, Luna. Guess what?" he added, turning to Harry. "Malfoy's not doing prefect duty. He's just sitting in his compartment with the other Slytherins, we saw him when we passed."

Harry sat up straight, interested. Hermione paused as she slowly sat down next to Neville. Now that she thought about it, it was really odd for Malfoy just to be sitting there with his feet up, quietly talking to his friends. He should be out, strutting, gloating over the Death Eater's successes. "What did he do when he saw you?" Harry demanded.

"The usual," said Ron indifferently, demonstrating the rude hand gesture. Hermione rolled her eyes; a visual aid really wasn't necessary. "Not like him, though, is it? Well--that is--" He repeated the hand gesture. "--but why isn't he out there bullying first years?"

"Dunno," said Harry. He leaned thoughtfully back in his seat. Hermione could practically see the various ideas buzzing around in his head. This certainly would support Harry's theory that Malfoy was up to something.

Hermione however wasn't so certain. "Maybe he preferred the Inquisitorial Squad," said Hermione. "Maybe being a prefect seems a bit tame after that."

"I don't think so," Harry said immediately. "I think he's--"

But before Hermione could discover just what Harry was thinking, a third-year Hufflepuff girl tentatively slipped into the compartment, blinking wonderingly around the room. "I'm supposed to deliver these to Neville Longbottom and Harry P-Potter," she faltered. The little girl turned scarlet as she looked directly at Harry. She barely managed to hand off the two scrolls tied with violet ribbons before stumbling in a hormone-induced haze out of the compartment. Hermione looked down at her lap to hide her smile. She had a feeling Harry Potter was going to break a lot of hearts this year.

Ron craned his neck to try to see the letter Harry was reading. "What is it?"

"An invitation," said Harry.

Neville was frowning down at his. "Who's Professor Slughorn?" asked Neville. He shifted the invitation towards Hermione so she could scan it. Ah, Hermione thought in understanding. Harry had mentioned that Slughorn enjoyed playing favorites; the new professor apparently wanted to make some fast connections. Of course Harry Potter, the hero of the world, would be granted an invitation and Neville, whose parents were famous Aurors, would also be likely to receive one. Hermione wondered who else would.

"New teacher," Harry explained. "Well, I suppose we'll have to go, won't we?" he said reluctantly. Hermione reckoned he didn't want to pass through the hoards of prying eyes that had undoubtedly assailed him the moment he set foot on the train. He and Neville rose and Harry gathered the bag in which he always carried with his cloak while Neville inquired nervously about his own invitation. Hermione didn't hear Harry's response as they were already out the door although Hermione thought she saw him dig into his bag. She peered after them inquisitively. She just hoped Harry wasn't going to do anything stupid.

Ron swung his legs up over Harry's vacated seat and leaned comfortably back. He nodded over at Luna, who was pored over an edition of The Quibbler while wearing psychedelic spectacles. "Whatcha reading, Luna?"

"The Quibbler, of course," Luna said dreamily. She looked up at Ron, her already huge silvery-blue eyes enlarged by the odd glasses she was wearing. "Circulation is so high up that Daddy included a free pair of these." She took off the frames and held them out. "Look. They're Spectrespecs."

"Cool," Ron said as he turned the glasses over to inspect them carefully. He handed them back without trying them on. Hermione was halfway tempted to ask what exactly Spectrespecs were, but she pulled out her Ancient Runes book instead. It would only instigate a long, vague explanation of some insane theory. She liked Luna a lot more ever since Luna had helped her secure that interview of Harry, but that didn't mean she enjoyed hearing about the Crumple-Horn Snorkack or whatever it was called.

She tried to absorb herself in her book, but a chess pawn was suddenly pitched into her lap. Picking it up between her thumb and forefinger, Hermione looked up from the page to see Ron grinning and setting up a chessboard. "Let's play," he suggested.

"I need to read," Hermione answered. The pawn squirmed, trying to return to its allies, but Hermione held on tight. If Ron didn't have one of his pieces, he couldn't play.

"Come on," he pushed. "I know you've already finished it. You've been reading it all week--you finish most books in a day."

"Ancient Runes is a difficult subject," Hermione explained. "I need to read it twice in order to make sure I understand all of the concepts." She brought her legs up so she could sit cross-legged with the book in her lap. She gave him an imperious, knowing look. "Besides, I didn't read it very well; someone kept interrupting me by flicking Dungbombs at me."

Ron feigned complete innocence. "Who would do something like that?"

"You and Harry."

"Harry and I didn't do it!" Ron denied although he couldn't conceal a smirk.

"So it was just you then?"

"Well, yeah," Ron conceded. He didn't look the slightest bit apologetic, but gave her a curious look. "Why were you always up there anywhere?"

"It's a good place to get some peace and quiet," Hermione explained. She had spent a great deal of time reading in the shelter of the Weasley attic. Ron had taken it upon himself to lure her out with a variety of methods, including a constant barrage of Dungbombs. "It's really quite nice up there."

"Yeah," Ron said disbelievingly. He had had to spend a few hours up there after his last attack, trying to dissipate the ripe air without magic under his mother's orders; the smell had permeated down the vents and stunk up the whole house. Although he denied any involvement with the incident, he had begrudgingly agreed to clean up the mess 'out of the goodness of his heart'. It hadn't been too bad, he had to admit--he had explored several of the old boxes and found old toys, belongings, and memories that he hadn't seen or thought about in years--but he would never let Hermione know that. Luna had ceased to read the magazine and was watching them with mild interest. "So let's play," he abruptly steered things back on track.

"It's going to be difficult to play," Hermione warned, motioning to the slightly swaying motion of the train as it crossed particularly bumpy tracks and terrain.

Ron pulled a face in reluctant admittance. "Exploding Snap then?" Hermione shrugged noncommittally. "Luna?" he offered.

Luna eagerly put aside her magazine. "Sure," she said cheerily. It appeared as though she didn't get asked to play games very often.

It was that slight twinge of pity for the friendless Ravenclaw that finally made Hermione set aside her book. "All right," she agreed. "I'll play."

They played for hours, although Hermione begged off after four games and retreated back into her book while Luna and Ron carried on. For the first hour, they were steadily interrupted by a stream of students boldly coming to ask them about the Ministry and Harry possibly being the 'Chosen One'. Ron however soon discovered if they positioned an already irritable Crookshanks near the door and within eyesight of the window, students took one look at the hissing cat and shied away from them. Word traveled fast and soon the three of them were undisturbed. Reaching the end of her book, Hermione glanced out of the window and glimpsed the wild forest they were passing through. They must be getting very close. She was about to suggest that they change into robes when the compartment slid open and Neville and surprisingly Ginny entered. Both looked rather confused and worried.

"Did Harry come back?" Ginny asked anxiously.

Ron took one look at his sister's face and dropped his hand of cards, not caring that the deck exploded on the empty seat between him and Luna. He waved aside the smoke distractedly while Luna just wrinkled her nose in distaste. "No. Where'd he go?" he demanded.

"I don't know," Ginny said. She fell into the seat next to Hermione to appeal to her. "We were at Slughorn's lunch and it didn't get out until just now and we were walking back when Harry was just said he'd see us later and before we knew it, he had whipped out his Invisibility Cloak and was gone."

Hermione and Ron looked at each other with identical wide eyes. "Was Malfoy anywhere nearby?" Hermione asked quickly. Harry was convinced that Malfoy was up to something; maybe he saw something suspicious and being his usual reckless self, took off to investigate.

"No," Neville put in as he sat next to Ginny. He scrambled his hand under the cushion to see if Trevor was still there, napping. He didn't appear to be as worried as Ginny, who looked as desperate as she had the night they had broke into the Ministry.

"But Zabini was there," Ginny suddenly remembered. "He gave Harry a really filthy look when we got out of the party and Harry was scowling at him ever since." She looked over at her brother. "But Zabini is a total git; the only spell he can do is conjuring a mirror so he can look at himself some more. He wouldn't do anything to Harry, would he?"

Ron however ignored his sister, focusing on Hermione. "Zabini was in the same compartment as Malfoy," Ron said to her grimly. He got to his feet and pulled out his wand. "Shall we?"

Hermione tensed as she felt the brakes of the train slam into action. She had to steady herself on the edge of her seat before standing up. "No, we don't have time." She looked out the window and saw Hogsmeade twinkling in the distance. "We're almost there and we still haven't changed and we have to make sure the first-years get safely off the train."

"Hermione--" Ron and Ginny protested as one.

"Harry will be fine," Hermione insisted firmly. "He can handle Malfoy." That didn't stop her from anxiously looking out of the window into the corridor, hoping to see Harry running down the hall so he could hastily change into robes. Her stomach twisted. "Come on," she said as she retrieved her school uniform. "Luna and I will change in the bathroom. Go on, Ginny," she urged as Ginny just stood her ground, clearly unenthusiastic with Hermione's decision. "He'll be fine."

Ginny without a word sailed out of the compartment. Hermione wondered if she would really go back to her and Dean's compartment to change or if she would go looking for Harry. Ron glanced over at Hermione momentarily before grabbing his own robes. Hermione waited for Luna to collect her clothes and the two girls left the compartment so the boys could change. While they switched clothing, the writhing in her stomach intensified and Hermione internally begged that Harry would be safely back in the compartment when she returned. But as she hurried back, pinning her prefect's badge to her robes, she found only a fully-dressed Ron and Neville. Harry had yet to return.

Ron gave her a told-you-so look, but Hermione ignored it. The train had finally come to a complete stop and they became absorbed in gathering their belongings. Hermione was one of the last ones in the compartment thanks to the arduous task of collecting a yowling Crookshanks. She stepped back to drag her trunk out when her eyes caught on Harry's lonely trunk perched on the luggage rack. Hedwig stared unblinkingly at her as if to say 'I can't believe you're actually about to leave me here alone'. Hermione looked back over her shoulder, somehow knowing that Ron would have hesitated at the door to wait for her. He too was staring at Harry's forlorn trunk and cage. Without a word, Ron strode back to pull down Harry's trunk while Hermione stood on tiptoe to retrieve Hedwig. Ron had to use both hands to pull the two trunks so he bit down on the handle of Pig's cage and carried it with his teeth. Hermione manage to balance Crookshanks' cage on the top of her trunk so her left hand was free to carry Hedwig along with them. Ron departed from the train first, leaving behind Harry's trunk so he could set down his trunk and finally pull Pig's cage from his mouth. Tentatively moving his now sore jaw, Ron turned back to pull Harry's trunk from the train. Hermione waited until he had finished before handing off Hedwig and alighting herself with her trunk and Crookshanks.

Theirs and Harry's belongings attended to--handlers were already magicking students' trunks onto giant carts--Hermione and Ron looked anxiously about for Harry's untidy mop of thick hair to come hurrying towards them, his face alive with anxiety as he hastily told them where he had just been and what he had learned. But in the surge of students streaming around them, all wearing the exact same black robes, it was difficult to pick out specific people. "Anything?" Hermione asked hopefully as she pushed herself up to the very tips of her tiptoes, straining to see anything that could give her a clue about what had happened to Harry.

"No," Ron said anxiously. Both had completely forgotten that they were technically supposed to helping the first-years. He swore under his breath. "I can't see anyone in this thicket," he mumbled.

Hermione hopped up onto the first step of the train so she was a half a foot taller. She clutched the silver handrail so she could once again stand on her tiptoes. She had a much better view up here. "There!"

"Where?" Ron leapt up behind Hermione so he could spot what she was pointing to. A sickeningly bright head of platinum hair had just alit from the train. "It's just Malfoy," Ron said in disappointment.

"Harry probably went to follow Malfoy," Hermione reminded him tersely. "He probably had to wait until everyone left before getting out of there." She bounced up and down anxiously. "With any luck, Harry should be coming out at any minute."

Ron blew out an uneasy breath, putting his hand on the handrail. His fingers drummed impatiently on the rail. He was standing rather close to her, so close that her shoulders were lightly touching his chest; if she just tilted back ever so slightly, she would be leaning comfortingly against him. Slowly, she ceased bouncing and stood perfectly still. The scent of pepper, the summer wind, and whatever soap Mrs. Weasley used for laundry tickled her nose pleasantly. Hermione's grip on the handrail tightened so she wouldn't be tempted to fall against him and lose herself in his arms. Even in the direst of circumstances, he could still make her spine tickle and prickle joyfully.

"That's it," Ron muttered after thirty seconds. He jumped off of the step, eyes coldly fastened to Malfoy's retreating back. "I'll be back."

Hermione however had seen something that he didn't. "Wait," she insisted as she grabbed the back of his robes to halt his progress. She nodded at the head of red hair that had fearlessly stepped in front of Malfoy and blocked his path. "Ginny's handling it."

Her grip tightened as Ron still struggled to break free; he really didn't want his sister anywhere near Malfoy. But Hermione knew better--Ginny, who had cursed Malfoy last term with a perfect Bat-Bogey Hex, would probably intimidate Malfoy the most at the moment. He certainly wasn't afraid of Hermione. Hermione bit her lip pensively as she recalled how Malfoy had ruthlessly approached her in the library the last day of school and maliciously informed her that his father was personally going to kill her. Malfoy's hatred towards Muggle-borns certainly rivaled the Death Eaters; could he be up to something as Harry obviously suspected? She had considered the possibility a few times at the Burrow before dismissing it. Malfoy was still far too young to be involved in such important schemes as a worldwide purge of the unworthy. But now as Harry was missing after possibly following Malfoy--

Malfoy pushed past Ginny and hurried to catch up with his friends. Ginny remained behind, her hands on her hips and lost in thought. She looked up and shook her head when she spotted Hermione. Hermione sighed. "He didn't tell her anything."

"Of course he wouldn't," Ron answered irritably. He tugged free of Hermione's fingers so he could look thoughtfully back at the train. "Think he's still on the train? Maybe Malfoy cursed him or something."

Hermione looked behind her, considering that possibility. She, Ron, and Harry had left Malfoy and his friends unconscious on the train before: maybe Malfoy had finally gotten retribution. "I just can't imagine Malfoy getting the best of Harry in a duel," Hermione said finally. No one could out-duel Harry.

"Then where is he?" Ron demanded. The crowd had notably diminished; only a few students remained on the platform besides for the two of them. "Could he gotten ahead of us?"

"Maybe," Hermione said doubtfully.

Ron looked over her shoulder, debating whether or not they should search the entire train. The rattle of wagon wheels averted both of their attention over to the convoy of carriages starting to trundle their way away from the railway station. If they didn't go now, they were going to have to walk up to the castle. Reluctantly, Ron grabbed Hermione's wrist to hastily help her down from the train. "Come on. He must already be on one of the carriages."

Hermione didn't think so but she still ran alongside of Ron, barreling towards the very last carriage, and hopping in just before it began to roll down the well-worn road to Hogwarts. Ginny helped them in--she too had lingered after confronting Malfoy--and the three sat, panting slightly, sharing the same mutual panic. Hermione scooted over to the window so she could peer back at the Hogsmeade station. The only person out there was one lone, slender figure who stood watching the last carriage suspiciously. It made Hermione slightly uneasy to know that someone had been watching her and Ron without their knowledge, especially when she had no idea who that person was. Hermione craned her neck for a better look, but the carriage gathered momentum as it rolled downhill, putting more and more distance between them and the mystery person. All Hermione could tell about the person was that it had to be a woman; she was far too slender and petite to be a man. The woman then turned on her heel and briskly bounded into the train. Hermione could only hope that she was a friend rather than foe.

Leaning her head exhaustedly against the wall, Hermione turned back to her two friends. Ginny was kicking her legs with impatient energy, silently staring out the window with a clenched jaw. Ron looked similarly tense and tired, but he still lifted his hand to lightly hit the back of his hand against Hermione's arm. "He just got ahead of us," he reassured. "He'll be fine."

She nodded, but they all knew that Ron had no idea what he was talking about. For all they knew, Harry had already fallen victim to another brutal, possibly fatal Death Eater attack.

**

"Do you really know Harry Potter?"

Hermione fought a sigh. Ron was right; there were more first-years than usual and they were infinitely more annoying than she had ever been at that age. "Yes, he's a friend of mine." She raised her voice so the other new Gryffindors could hear over the din of the departing students. "Follow me, please!"

"You must be good friends though, right?" the boy pressed eagerly as he trotted alongside of Hermione. "I mean, he ate dinner with you, right? You washed his face off--what happened to him anyway? Was it--" He exhaled sharply with excitement. "--was it You-Know-Who?"

Tiredly, Hermione pushed her hair out of her eyes and looked carefully at the over-enthusiastic first-year. If you gave this boy a camera, he would be the spitting image of Colin Creevy in his younger, much more annoying days. The real Colin Creevy, who had grown up quite a bit in the past few years, hurried up to catch up with Hermione, his new prefect's badge proudly displayed on his chest. From the blinding shine of the badge, Hermione could tell that he had polished it several times before arriving at school. Colin clapped the young boy on the shoulder. "Did you know that Harry and I are friends too?"

"Are you?" the boy asked eagerly. Colin gave Hermione an understanding wink as he steered the boy a safe distance away, regaling him with the story of his Petrifaction during his first-year. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. That ought to keep the boy occupied for the rest of the trek back to the tower.

The new female fifth-year prefect, a blonde girl by the name of Demelza Robins, walked alongside of Hermione and shook her head with sympathy. "They just won't let you alone, will they?"

"Afraid not," Hermione replied gloomily. She was already getting a dull ache behind her eyes. She rubbed them resignedly.

"You know, you don't have to show these tots around," Demelza offered. "Colin and I've got it if you want to go ahead and get to bed."

Hermione shook her head although she was grateful for the offer. "Ron might catch up," she explained. Ron knew that it was their obligation to show the first-years around; she had reminded him of it only a few hours earlier. He had hung back to find out what had happened to Harry's nose and knowing he had been about to burst from worry, Hermione had gone on without him. Once he had found out, Ron would probably catch up with them and relay what had happened to Harry.

But they reached the tower with no sign of a panting Ron trying to catch up. Hermione allowed Colin to give the standard explanation about the Fat Lady and the password while she wondered what was taking Ron and Harry so long. Most of the other students had already gathered in the hallway to wait for them to reveal the password. The prefects of course had been informed during their prefect meeting; Hermione stepped inside the common room, hoping that Ron would have the good sense to remember so he and Harry wouldn't be locked out.

Demelza and Hermione led the girls up to their dormitory and explained proper procedures. Hermione had to admit that Demelza was a very efficient, straightforward girl; she would make a good prefect. She had rather hoped that Ginny would be picked, but Ginny had waved her hand dismissively and laughed when Hermione had expressed that thought to her. Ginny's grades were high, but her openly cheeky manner to certain students and even professors--namely Snape--had probably taken her out of the running. Besides, Ginny felt that she had to make the twins proud by not receiving the badge. Now three Weasleys had gone through Hogwarts without being a prefect.

After the first-years were settled, Hermione returned downstairs in hopes of finding Harry and Ron. The common room was already deserted; everyone was anxious to get to bed after the long day of traveling. Hermione clenched and unclenched her fingers around the doorknob to the girls' dormitory. They hadn't waited for her. She would have to wait until tomorrow to find out why Harry had arrived so late, with blood all over his face, asking if his nose looked normal. Ron had pointed out to her that Malfoy was particularly entertaining this evening by miming something about a nose. There had been a ruthless gleam in the Slytherin's eyes evident even at a far distance. He must have something to do with Harry. Too bad she wouldn't know how exactly until later. Disappointed, she turned and returned up the stairs. Her stomach flipped uncomfortably somewhere deep inside of her. Why hadn't they waited?

Hermione swung the door open to her dormitory. Lavender and Parvati were sitting companionably on Parvati's bed, discussing something intently. The intense conversation however ceased the instant the two girls spotted Hermione. Lavender shot off the bed as if Hermione had started firing a rapid succession of curses at her and hurried to get ready for bed. Parvati leaned back on her pillows and casually gave Hermione a little wave.

"Hi," Hermione returned. She crossed over to her bed so she could finally let Crookshanks out of his cage. The large cat hissed at her in condemnation for keeping him locked up for so long, but once that obligation had been fulfilled, he leapt down to the ground, rubbed affectionately against Hermione's legs, and trotted out of the dormitory for a nighttime prowl. She smiled after her cat and looked up in time to see Lavender looking at her studiedly. "What?" Hermione asked warily with a tiny sense of déjà vu. Last year, Lavender had stared at her in this same way, internally debating whether or not to ask Hermione about Harry. Hermione would assume that the same thing was about to occur if it hadn't been for Lavender's little stunt on the train. This question would undoubtedly be about infinitely more intimate issues.

As usual, Hermione was perfectly right. "Are you and Ron Weasley dating?"

Now it was Parvati's turn to shoot off her bed as though curses were being hurtled across the room. She had retreated in the bathroom so fast that all Hermione saw of her was her long black braid streaking out behind her. Hermione didn't answer immediately as she slowly unclasped her robes and folded them neatly. Lavender had asked a rather loaded question. Technically, no, she and Ron were not dating in the typical teenage let's-snog-in-the-broom-closet way. They had only kissed once and that was out of sheer necessity--well, not exactly, Hermione amended as her cheeks flushed at the memory. That had been one hell of a snog. But it had never happened again so by that definition, she and Ron definitely were not dating.

But that didn't mean that they weren't involved, that there wasn't something going on happening between them, that something was just waiting to happen. They may not date or snog, but they did have millions of little moments that added up to the potential of something wonderful. They would meet each other's eyes, their hands would brush, they would make heartfelt confessions, they'd smile, they'd laugh, they'd dream, they'd wish, they'd hope...Ron could hide and deny it all he liked, but he couldn't forever. Hermione knew he returned her feelings. He couldn't not. They couldn't share the happiest moments of her life without both feeling the same way. He just needed a little maturity and time. He couldn't achieve those needed traits however if he was dating someone else. Hermione also couldn't even imagine how she would react if she saw Ron kissing some other girl. Just the thought of it made her stomach feel as though it had stomped, trampled, crushed by a hippogriff's hooves. So if she lied and told Lavender that she and Ron were involved, then he would be safe. There was no chance that she could lose him.

But it wouldn't be right. Hermione had to let Ron make his own choices. If he wanted to be with Lavender, she couldn't stop him. She couldn't deliberately sabotage his chances with her. She could spend eons of time convincing him that Lavender was the wrong choice, but she couldn't do something like this. Cursing her damned moral fiber, Hermione shook her head. "No, Ron and I aren't dating."

"You like him though," Lavender pressed. "Don't you?"

"That's none of your business," Hermione said coolly.

"Yes, it is." Lavender dropped her pajamas so she could face Hermione directly. "Look, I like Ron. I want to date him. But I don't want to--" She fumbled for the right words. "--infringe on your territory, because I see the way you two act around each other and I think you like him too. We're roommates so if we both like him and I start to date him, I don't want things to be weird between us." She let out a breath. It wasn't often she stood up to Hermione. Hermione was usually a sweet girl, but she could be downright scary at times. "So--do you like Ron?"

Hermione had only confessed how she felt about Ron to Ginny and Mrs. Weasley. There was no way Lavender was joining that short list. "That's none of your business," Hermione repeated. "But no matter what, I wouldn't tell you to stay away from him. What happens between you and Ron is between you and Ron. I won't interfere."

It made her feel a bit sick to say it, but she knew it was true. Hermione Granger may tell people when to do their homework or vehemently give her opinion about what Harry should do to prepare for Voldemort or house-elf rights, but it was a different story with matters of the heart. Even she knew that you couldn't tell people what to do about love. It was up to them alone. It was why she was willing to wait for Ron for so long. It was up to him to figure out how he felt and let her know when he was ready.

"So when Ron and I get together, you won't be mad?" Lavender asked bluntly.

Hermione blinked. Lavender was awfully confident for someone who had hardly spoken to Ron before this year. The last time Hermione remembered Lavender speaking about Ron was the time she had stormed back from Divination, complaining about Ron making some sort of stupid joke in Divination about Uranus. It was hard to believe that she suddenly was so enamored with Ron. "No, I won't be mad," Hermione lied.

"Good," Lavender said tersely. The two girls looked at each other in uncomfortable stubbornness before Hermione abruptly picked up her nightdress, walked over to the bathroom, and opened the door. She didn't want to talk about this anymore.

"Ouch!" Parvati sat down hard on the floor as the door banged into the side of her head. She must have been crouching down with her ear pressed to the door. Lavender snorted while Hermione just stared down at the girl. "That hurt," she added sheepishly, rubbing her now sore ear.

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked although she wasn't very sorry. Parvati shouldn't have been eavesdropping.

"Yeah," Parvati picked herself up off the ground and hurried past Hermione. She scurried over to Lavender to discuss what had just happened. Hermione shut the door behind her and leaned against it, silently and slowly breathing in and out. Her eyes fell onto her reflection in the mirror across the room. Her hair was bushier than normal, probably from the stress of the day. It contrasted greatly with Lavender's straight, silky, blonde hair. Would Ron prefer to run his fingers through Lavender's hair than hers? He might; there would definitely be less of his chance that his hand would get caught in a particularly ferocious tangle or knot. Lavender was also certainly prettier than her; if Ron was as superficial as he acted around Fleur, he would definitely choose the pretty girl over the smart one.

But Ron really wasn't superficial. He had his immature moments, of course--many of them--but he still was Ron. He was fiercely loyal, funny, determined, smart when he applied himself, kind, brave, wonderful, and above all, a person who always followed his heart. It was one of the things Hermione admired most about him. He didn't over-analyze everything or think things to death; he just followed his instincts. Sometimes it got him into trouble, but most of the time, Hermione couldn't help wishing she was a bit more like him: spontaneous, impulsive, and always true to his heart no matter how many niggles of logical doubt wiggled into his brain. And Hermione couldn't help feeling that in the end, Ron's heart would lead him to her. She couldn't love the stupid prat so much only to have him ditch her for someone like Lavender Brown.

So she had a bit of competition now: big deal. It might complicate things a bit, but it wouldn't change the end result. It wouldn't change the fact that she really cared about Ron and he possibly maybe could really care about her too. Hermione pushed herself off the door and purposely to the sink to wash her face. If Lavender wanted to try to win Ron's heart, that was fine. She could try all she liked.

That didn't mean she was going to succeed.