Hermione Granger and the Half-Blood Prince

Hello, good morning, how you do?

What makes your rising sun so new?

I could use a fresh beginning too

All of my regrets are nothing new

So this is the way that I say I need you

This is the way

This is the way

That I'm learning to breathe

I'm learning to crawl

I'm finding that you and you alone can break my fall

I'm living again

Awake and alive

I'm dying to breathe under your skies

"Learning to Breathe" Switchfoot

**

After that Saturday, Hermione couldn't help feeling as though a massive load had been lifted from her shoulders. She and Ron were finally friends again and they were finally on the same page about their relationship. There was no more confusion; they were both interested in becoming more than friends, but they were going to wait as Ron didn't feel ready. Hermione really didn't want to wait, but she was much more comfortable knowing that she was waiting. For the past two years, she had been waiting and yearning which was an awful combination. She hadn't known if there was something to wait for and that drove her mad. But now she knew. There was something happening between them. Something infinitely special.

Hermione smiled and looked up from her book at her two best friends. There were only a few people left in the common room at this hour so she felt safe giving Ron a quick grin. She wouldn't want him to get in trouble with silly Lavender. Ron returned it before returning to his essay he was furiously trying to finish. Her eyes wandered over to Harry who was also reading. Her smile however faded when she saw the cover of the book.

The bloody Half-Blood Prince.

Hermione didn't think about him--or her--very often, but the Prince popped up into her thoughts just enough to drive her mad. Every time Harry extracted the worn, moldy textbook from his bag, her insides always clenched a little and her mind would begin to whirl away, formulating possibilities. Who on earth could have written those notations? It wasn't fair that Harry was able to coast through N.E.W.T. Potions so effortlessly; when the time came for him to take his exams, he wouldn't be allowed a textbook and he would be left on his own. Harry would have no idea what to do and then how could he be expected to become an Auror? She had tried to tell him that over and over again, but both he and Ron brushed aside her warnings as always. And now, Harry didn't use the Prince solely for Potions. Instead of using the vast number of sources Hogwarts offered to its students, Harry was once again rereading the margins of his Potions book for the hundredth time. Fighting an impatient sigh, Hermione closed her textbook and leaned across the table towards Harry. Now that she had things settled with Ron, she could concentrate her efforts on something much more important: getting Harry to get his act together.

"You won't find anything in there," said Hermione firmly.

"Don't start, Hermione," said Harry, not even looking up from the page he was perusing. "If it hadn't been for the Prince, Ron wouldn't be sitting here now."

"He would if you'd just listened to Snape in our first year," said Hermione dismissively although she was secretly stung. It was really unfair for Harry to use Ron's near-death as justification for his obsession with that book. It was almost as disconcerting as Harry's fervent fixation with Draco Malfoy's so-called master plan.

Harry just ignored her as he squinted down at the page to make out a particularly intriguing scribble. Hopefully, Hermione looked to Ron for support, but he was too lost in his Defense essay to come to his aid. Like he would, she added silently. Even if she and Ron were married--her heart skipped a little even at the mere thought--Ron would defend Harry over her about matters like this. Ron only secretly disliked the Prince because Harry, not he, had been unfortunate enough to pick that particular textbook. If it had been Ron's textbook, Ron would be using the book even more religiously than Harry. Hermione snorted quietly into the Apparition book she was continued reading. If it had been Ron's textbook, she probably would have convinced him to get rid of the book by now. Harry however could be just as stubborn as she was. She fixed him with another glare. Harry needed to learn that although they were equally stubborn, she was going to win.

"I'm telling you, the stupid Prince isn't going to be able to help you with this, Harry!" said Hermione, more loudly to make sure he couldn't ignore her any longer. "There's only one way to force someone to do what you want, and that's the Imperius Curse, which is illegal--"

"Yeah, I know that, thanks," said Harry, not looking up from the book. "That's why I'm looking for something different. Dumbledore says Veritaserum won't do it, but there might be something else, a potion or a spell..."

Hermione shook her head vigorously. It was undisputed fact that you had to say something five times before someone really learned it; apparently, for Harry, you had to say something five million times before it stuck. "You're going about it the wrong way," said Hermione. "Only you can get the memory, Dumbledore says. That must mean you can persuade Slughorn where other people can't. It's not a question of slipping him a potion, anyone could do that--"

"How d'you spell 'belligerent'?" said Ron, shaking his quill very hard while staring at his parchment. Either he was really oblivious to the potential row brewing or he was not-so-subtly trying to break up the fight. "It can't be B--U--M--"

Even if it wasn't Ron's intention, Hermione took a breath to calm herself and dropped the subject of the Half-Blood Prince for now. "No, it isn't," said Hermione, pulling Ron's essay toward her. She scanned it quickly with a frown. Ron normally wasn't the best speller, but his spelling and grammar in this particular essay was particularly atrocious. "And 'augury' doesn't begin O--R--G either. What kind of quill are you using?"

Ron shook it uselessly. "It's one of Fred and George's Spell-Check ones...but I think the charm must be wearing off..."

"Yes, it must," said Hermione, pointing at the title of his essay. She fought a giggle. It was rather funny. "Because we were asked how we'd deal with dementors, not 'Dugbogs,' and I don't remember you changing your name to 'Roonil Wazlib' either." Hermione slid the essay back to him so he could see the numerous mistakes and bit back a smile. The extremely obvious errors were rather amusing.

"Ah no!" said Ron, staring horror-struck at the parchment. "Don't say I'll have to write the whole thing out again!"

He looked so honestly upset that Hermione for the second time in her life considered writing the entire essay for Ron; she would do anything to keep that anguished glow out of his eyes. Fortunately, the spelling errors would be very easy to correct. "It's okay, we can fix it," said Hermione, pulling the essay towards her and taking out her wand.

"I love you, Hermione," said Ron, sinking back in his chair, rubbing his eyes wearily.

It took all of the self-control and discipline she had to keep from shouting a shocked excuse me and dragging Ron into the hallway to ask what the devil he was going on about. That certainly hadn't been a very just-friendly thing to say. If they were going to be only friends for now, they had to act like it. Yes, it was somewhat feasible that friends told each other so blatantly that they loved each other, but not like that. Ron's voice had been casual and light so it was obvious that he wasn't professing his undying love for her. He was just grateful that she was helping him and his earnest words of affection were part of his way of telling her how grateful he was. But it was still a little inappropriate in light of the decision they had made in hospital last week.

Struggling to contain that inner conflict, Hermione fought to keep her cheeks from turning too telltale pink and kept her voice calm and almost disinterested. "Don't let Lavender hear you saying that." It was her subtle way of warning him that nothing would ever happen between them as long as he was dating another girl.

"I won't," said Ron into his hands. "Or maybe I will...then she'll ditch me."

He positively brightened at the thought.

Catching this, Harry poked his glasses higher on his nose and looked up at his best friend. "Why don't you ditch her if you want to finish it?" asked Harry.

"You haven't ever chucked anyone, have you?" said Ron. Hermione just raised her eyebrows, but didn't look up from the parchment she was correcting. He said that as though that was a horrible thing. Ron should really be proud that Harry hadn't broken any girl's heart. "You and Cho just--"

"Sort of fell apart, yeah," said Harry.

"Wish that would happen with me and Lavender," said Ron gloomily, watching Hermione silently tapping each of his misspelled words with the end of her wand, so that they corrected themselves on the page. Hermione forced herself not to look up. She knew that was what Ron wanted and she was just going to keep her mouth shut on this matter. He knew what she thought of Lavender; he didn't need to hear her say it again. "But the more I hint I want to finish it, the tighter she holds on. It's like going out with the giant squid."

Harry let out a sympathetic hmph before returning to his Potions book; he honestly didn't know what Ron should do next so in typical Harry fashion, he was going to let Ron figure it out on his own. But Ron didn't want that--he needed help. Hermione bit her lip. He wanted her help. That was what this conversation was really about. Ron was letting her know what the situation with Lavender was at the moment and asking her what he should do next. But Ron needed to learn that she wasn't going to bail him out of his relationship with Lavender. He had willingly gotten into that mess all on his own so he had to get out of it on his own. Her grip on her wand faltered momentarily as she abruptly remembered something. Ron had started dating Lavender because he was angry with her for snogging Viktor. They had never officially reconciled that argument. Ron probably never would want to and just assume that it was behind them, but Hermione didn't like to leave issues up in the air. Ron needed to be set straight about the Viktor situation once and for all. Tonight obviously wasn't the time, but someday...someday Ron was going to learn that Viktor Krum was never and never would be a threat.

"There," said Hermione, some twenty minutes later, handing back Ron's essay. She finally looked at him and realized with a start that he was still looking at her. He must have watched her the entire time.

"Thanks a million," said Ron sincerely. "Can I borrow your quill for the conclusion?"

Hermione rummaged in her bag and took a longer time than necessary to pick out a quill. Please Ron, she thought as she finally handed off the writing utensil, find some way to chuck Lavender. He flashed her a grateful smile and settled down to finish his essay. Hermione bit her lip again. And soon. For the hundredth time, she wondered just why Ron didn't feel ready for her--well, she knew he really wasn't--he was immature and clueless and did not possess the emotional capacity necessary for a real relationship--but she couldn't help thinking when he looked at her like that that he was ready and something was just holding him back. He wasn't saying no to the possibility of them because he thought he was immature and clueless. There was something else. She just hoped one day he would tell her what that something was.

Opening her Apparition book again, Hermione internally laughed at herself. Less than a half an hour ago, she had been marveling at how wonderful it felt not to obsess over Ron and other boy-related problems. And now, here she was, obsessing once again. She just had to stop thinking about it and let things happen when they well. She glanced over at Harry who was still reading his stupid Potions book and yawning. He'd go to bed soon and she and Ron would be alone and who knew what would happen then. Hermione smiled briefly into her book. It was amazing how much could happen right in front of Harry without him realizing it.

Crack.

Hermione let out a little shriek and dropped her book in her lap; Ron spilled ink all over his freshly completed essay, and Harry said, "Kreacher!"

Kreacher? Sure enough, the decrepit house-elf was bowing low and mumbling away to Harry. She remembered vaguely that Harry had mentioned to her that Kreacher had been passed into his possession and sent to Hogwarts to work. Hermione felt slightly guilty for forgetting. The founder of S.P.E.W. should remember these sorts of things.

Crack.

Hermione jumped again as Dobby appeared alongside Kreacher, his tea-cozy hat askew. "Dobby has been helping too, Harry Potter!" he squeaked, casting Kreacher a resentful look. "And Kreacher ought to tell Dobby when he is coming to see Harry Potter so they can make their reports together!"

Reports? Together? Hermione looked over at Harry, feeling as though she was missing something very important. Ron was looking at her and the house-elves with an impending look of doom. Yes, she definitely was missing something. "What is this?" asked Hermione, still looking shocked. "What's going on, Harry?"

Harry now had a look of impending doom on his face as he hesitated briefly. "Well...they've been following Malfoy for me," he said finally.

Hermione's jaw clenched. "Night and day," croaked Kreacher before Hermione could speak.

"Dobby has not slept for a week, Harry Potter!" said Dobby proudly, swaying where he stood.

Now Hermione's fists were clenched too. "You haven't slept, Dobby? But surely, Harry, you didn't tell him not to--"

"No, of course I didn't," said Harry quickly, looking as though he expected Hermione to spit fire. "Dobby, you can sleep, all right? But has either of you found anything?" he hastened to add. Hermione gaped at Harry while Dobby and Kreacher began to give their reports; she couldn't believe his nerve sometime. He was ordering Dobby and Kreacher around, making them stay up at all hours, just to follow Malfoy who may be up to something, but was certainly not a Death Eater. As evil as Malfoy was, he didn't have the drive to be a ruthless killer. To be a Death Eater, you had to be so devoted to Voldemort that you were willing to lay down your life and she didn't think Malfoy had that. Malfoy just cared too much about himself to make those sacrifices. It was ridiculous.

Ron was starting to look slightly amused by the outrage on her face, but he quickly looked back down at his ruined essay before she could turn her wrath on him. He only looked up at the sudden sound of a book being smacked on a head. Harry was staring at the two of them with newfound light in his eyes. "That's where he's been sneaking off to! That's where he's doing...whatever he's doing! And I bet that's why he's been disappearing off the map--come to think of it, I've never seen the Room of Requirement on there!"

"Maybe the Marauders never knew the room was there," said Ron.

"I think it'll be part of the magic of the room," said Hermione. "If you need it to be Unplottable, it will be."

"Dobby, have you managed to get in to have a look at what Malfoy's doing?" said Harry eagerly.

"No, Harry Potter, that is impossible," said Dobby.

"No, it's not," said Harry at once. "Malfoy got into our headquarters there last year, so I'll be able to get in and spy on him, no problem."

Hermione wondered if Ron's ears turned red at the mention of the night D.A. had been raided. She certainly was blushing a little. "But I don't think you will, Harry," said Hermione slowly. "Malfoy already knew exactly how we were using the room, didn't he, because that stupid Marietta had blabbed. He needed the room to become the headquarters of the D.A., so it did. But you don't know what the room becomes when Malfoy goes in there, so you don't know what to ask it to transform into."

"There'll be a way around that," said Harry dismissively. Hermione shook her head a little with a begrudging smile. No feat was impossible for Harry Potter. "You've done brilliantly, Dobby."

"Kreacher's done well too," said Hermione kindly.

But as expected, Kreacher averted his huge, bloodshot eyes and croaked at the ceiling. "The Mudblood is speaking to Kreacher, Kreacher will pretend he cannot hear..."

"Get out of it," Harry snapped while Hermione almost casually reached out and stopped Ron's hand from whacking Kreacher's bloated head. Kreacher made one last deep bow and Disapparated. "You'd better go and get some sleep too, Dobby."

"Thank you, Harry Potter, sir!" squeaked Dobby happily and he too vanished.

"How good's this?" said Harry enthusiastically, turning to Ron and Hermione. By this point, Hermione had released Ron's hand and he had resumed inspecting his essay while Hermione just looked at Harry. Harry however didn't notice her famous glare. "We know where Malfoy's going! We've got him cornered now!"

"Yeah, it's great," said Ron glumly. He was trying to mop up the sodden mass of ink. He was only making matters worse so Hermione quickly pulled it toward her before he could ruin it and began siphoning the ink off with her wand.

"But what's all this about him going up there with a 'variety of students?'" said Hermione. Even though she was annoyed with Harry, she couldn't help wondering about this. She vividly recalled the way Malfoy had dismissed his own girlfriend from the room in order to threaten her. "How many people are in on it? You wouldn't think he'd trust lots of them to know what he's doing..."

"Yeah, that is weird," said Harry, frowning. "I heard him telling Crabbe it wasn't Crabbe's business what he was doing...so what's he telling all these...all these..." Harry's voice tailed away; he was staring at the fire. Hermione just watched him. She knew this face very well. He was about to figure everything out. Ron also stopped to watch; he knew Harry just as well as Hermione did. "God, I've been stupid," he said quietly. "It's obvious, isn't it? There was a great vat of it down in the dungeon...He could've nicked some at any time during that lesson..."

"Nicked what?" said Ron. Apparently, it wasn't very obvious.

"Polyjuice Potion. He stole some of the Polyjuice Potion Slughorn showed us in our first Potions lesson...There aren't a whole variety of students standing guard for Malfoy...it's just Crabbe and Goyle as usual...Yeah, it all fits!" said Harry, jumping up and starting to pace in front of the fire. "They're stupid enough to do what they're told even if he won't tell them what he's up to...but he doesn't want them to be seen lurking around outside the Room of Requirement, so he's got them taking Polyjuice to make them look like other people...Those two girls I saw him with when he missed Quidditch--ha! Crabbe and Goyle!"

Hermione's mind whirled as she tried to catch up. In some ways, Harry really was the cleverest of them all. "Do you mean to say that that little girl whose scales I repaired--?"

"Yeah, of course!" said Harry loudly, staring at her. "Of course! Malfoy must've been inside the room at the time, so she--what am I talking about?--he dropped the scales to tell Malfoy not to come out, because there was someone there!" And there was that girl who dropped the toadspawn too! We've been walking past him all the time and not realizing it!"

"He's got Crabbe and Goyle transforming into girls?" guffawed Ron. "Blimey...No wonder they don't look too happy these days...I'm surprised they don't tell him to stuff it..."

"Well, they wouldn't, would they, if he's shown them his Dark Mark?" said Harry.

"Hmmm...the Dark Mark we don't know exists," said Hermione skeptically, rolling up Ron's dried essay before it could come to any more harm and handing it to him. Ron apparently had a lot more faith in Crabbe and Goyle than she had. She had a feeling if Crabbe and Goyle were told by Malfoy to dance with Snape naked on the Head Table, they'd do it. Just because they were following Malfoy's orders didn't mean that Malfoy was a Death Eater. Malfoy couldn't be.

"We'll see," said Harry confidently.

"Yes, we will," Hermione said, getting to her feet and stretching. She hated killing Harry's newfound confidence, but he had to be reminded about what was really important. "But, Harry, before you get all excited, I still don't think you'll be able to get into the Room of Requirement without knowing what's there first. And I don't think you should forget"--she heaved her bag onto her shoulder and gave him a very serious look--"that what you're supposed to be concentrating on is getting that memory from Slughorn. Good night."

She closed the door to the girls' dormitory and waited, her hand on the doorknob as she had after screaming at Ron to never consider her to be his last resort. Sure enough, Harry had immediately turned to Ron. "What d'you think?"

Come on, Ron, she thought. Tell him. You know I'm right...

"Wish I could Disapparate like a house-elf. I'd have that Apparition Test in the bag."

Hermione let out a little sigh. Prat. Shaking her head, she marched up the stairs to her room. If Ron wasn't going to help her convince Harry, she would have to do it all on her own. He had to be shown that the Prince wasn't as reliable as he or she seemed. Tomorrow, she'd go to the library and try to find out just what this title of Half-Blood Prince meant. Now that Ron and she were reconciled, she finally had the energy for it. She had the energy for loads more things now: Apparition, the Prince, Horcruxes...the possibilities were endless. Although she had these projects before, her heart hadn't really been behind her work. Ron's atrocious actions had just sucked everything out of her. But now...now everything was different. Now her possibilities were endless. She skipped up the final stair and sailed into her dormitory with a determined smile. Maybe it was time to finally start S.P.E.W. again.

**

Neville Longbottom coughed loudly as Hermione Granger set down the massive stack of Daily Prophets with a dull thud on the table next to him, releasing a wide mushroom of choking dust. "Sorry," she apologized as she too coughed and waved her hand to dissipate the dust. Neville just smiled at her to let her know it wasn't a problem and returned to his Defense homework. He hadn't done as well as he would have liked on his essay on Imperius and was making up for it by working harder than ever on his next assignment. Hermione smiled proudly at the back of his head. It was good to see that some people had a bit of drive when it came to schoolwork.

She sat down in her chair with a contented sigh. It felt good to be back here researching. She had finished all of her homework during her free period after lunch so she could pass the evening working on her extra-curricular activities. It had taken her a while to collect all of the books and newspapers necessary, but she was finally ready to begin. The Prophets looked the most intriguing so she began flipping through them first. By this point, she was so skilled at research that she could skim a page quite rapidly and know where it not it contained the information she was seeking. She perused several editions for a half an hour before leaning back to take a breath, not quite sure what she was looking for. She just had a feeling that the title 'Half-Blood Prince' didn't mean what they had assumed, especially since there were no wizarding princes mentioned in magical history.

That she knew of. There was a slim chance she had missed the term in her years of study and research. Hermione twisted around in her chair so she could face Neville's table. It didn't hurt to ask; Neville had had been in the wizarding world ten years longer than her. "Neville? Can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah." Neville also turned to face her.

"Are there princes in the wizarding world?"

Neville frowned in thought. "Princes? Not that I know of. The pureblood families were treated like royalty back in the day, but now it doesn't matter as much. Besides, back then, there wasn't a dominate pureblood family or emperor or something. If you were pureblood, you were superior but there was no set purebloods greater than the rest." Neville colored slightly as he realized he was rambling. "But I don't know much about all that."

"Don't be silly," Hermione scolded. "You know loads."

Neville shrugged one shoulder awkwardly, flushing even more. "I've never heard of a wizarding prince," he repeated. "But I bet my grandmum would know for sure. I could ask her if you'd like."

"That'd be nice," Hermione said. Thinking their conversation was over, Neville returned to his homework. Hermione however remained facing him, struck with a sudden thought. "How is your grandmother, Neville?"

"She's fine," Neville answered after a moment of shocked silence. No one had cared to ask about his grandmother before.

"And your parents?" Hermione added after a moment's hesitation. They had never talked about the time she, Harry, Ron, and Ginny had seen Neville at St. Mungo's on Christmas, but somehow, now, in the middle of the war, that didn't seem very important anymore.

Neville paled visibly, but he looked pleased all the same. He turned his chair to face Hermione and scooted closer so no one else would hear. "They're--they're the same. Dad sleeps most of the time while Mum wanders around. She usually gets lost once a week so you have to keep an eye on her." Without knowing why he was about to share this, Neville reached into his back pocket and extracted a bubble gum wrapper he kept in there. "She collects these, see? Goes around looking for any kind of candy wrapper. Then she gives them to me." He unfolded and refolded the wrapper lovingly. "I used to think that Mum was trying to tell me something in this secret code that she thought I could understand but I really didn't. That maybe she wasn't as sick as they said and she was really trying to tell me how to Heal her and if I kept all of the wrappers, eventually I'd figure it out and save them." He laughed at himself. "Stupid, eh?"

"No." Touched, Hermione reached out to take the wrapper from Neville to inspect it for herself. She rather hoped that there was some sort of secret code. "Maybe she is. I think you should keep collecting them. Keep hoping."

"Oh, I will," Neville said instantly. He reached out to take the wrapper back and his eyes rested on the massive mound of books on Hermione's table. "Wow. I know you read more than anyone else alive but--wow." He got up to inspect the titles. Hermione instinctively stiffened; Neville wasn't a particularly curious person, but he might start asking questions about the unusual variety of the titles. He pulled one particular book out and showed it to her with pleased surprise. "Healing?"

"Oh." Hermione sat up with relief. She could talk to Neville about that. "I thought I might look into knowing some general wizarding first aid. You know, after what happened at Quidditch and with Ron. With those two as my best friends, I figured I should have a basic understanding of magical medicine--I'm probably going to need it." Hermione bit her lip momentarily. She hated that that last statement was true, but with the state of the war these days, it was a miracle that no one she knew had been injured or killed yet. She didn't know how much longer her luck was going to hold out.

Neville seemed to sense her internal distress and comfortingly patted her on the shoulder. "That's good of you."

"I thought so," Hermione returned with a small smile.

"Well, good luck." Neville gave her one final pat and went back to his table. Hermione returned to her Prophets for only a few minutes before somewhat distractedly closing the newspaper and gathering them up to restock on the shelves. There was something more important she had to do. Somehow, she managed to collect the remaining books and carry them over to the front desk. Madame Pince raised an eyebrow as always but obligingly checked out the loads of books for her. Teetering under the load, Hermione lugged the books back to the tower and all the way up the stairs to her room. It was mercifully empty. Hermione let out a little sigh of relief as she finally dumped the books on her bed and rubbed her now sore arms. She then went straight for her trunk. Her talk with Neville had reminded her just how important family and friends were in a time like this. In the past two weeks, both of her dearest friends had had close brushes with death. Time was fleeting and life was short; she should be taking advantage of every opportunity she had to cherish the time she had with the people she loved. She should use every chance she had to tell those special people how much they meant to her.

Hermione looked bemusedly out the window where she could faintly see the Quidditch pitch. Ron and Harry and Ginny were all at practice otherwise she would be downstairs with them, urging them to put off their homework for one night to have some fun together. Ron would pretend like he was having a stroke, Harry would laugh, Ginny would say something sarcastic in response to Ron's jokes and the four of them would pass the evening together. But the three of them wouldn't be back from practice for another hour or two and Harry hadn't finished his essay that was due tomorrow morning. Time was fleeting and life was short, but at the same time, there were loads of things to do in between. There just wasn't the time to cherish the moments.

That is, unless you made the time. If you swore to yourself that no matter how much you had to do, you would take the time to be with the ones you love, you would. As her mother had always told her, if you put your mind to it, you could accomplish anything. If you wanted to savor life, you would. Hermione set her jaw determinedly. That's what she would do. Now that she was adding all of these new tasks to her already heavy workload, she could add one more, especially if it was as important as this. She would make time to be with her friends while she could. She would make sure they knew how much they meant to her.

But she couldn't begin tonight with them. So for now--Hermione smoothed down a piece of parchment and unscrewed her inkpot--for now, she would begin with letting two more people know just how much she loved them. Because they deserved to know. She loved them to death and they should finally know it. Satisfied with her decision, Hermione dipped her quill into the pot and began to write in her neat script:

Dear Mum and Dad...

**

Hermione consistently kept to her new plans over the next few weeks. She researched the Prince--and found nothing. She researched Horcruxes--and found nothing. She researched Healing spells--and found she didn't fare very well when she attempted to practice the spells. She researched Apparition--and while she was learning loads, she wouldn't be certain how much she had improved until the practice session in Hogsmeade. She tried to promote S.P.E.W. to a new audience--and found that they were just as dead-set against house-elf rights as Ron was. Her attempts may not have been very successful, but at least she was trying.

Her decision to cherish life more, however, was working out very well. She wrote to her parents on a more regular basis and told them in more detail about what was going on. She made time to take a walk with Ginny and talk about trivial stuff like boys, play Exploding Snap with Harry and Ron, to play chess, to visit Hagrid, to read a novel, to take extra time patrolling with Ron just to walk aimlessly down the halls, laughing and talking. And Hermione had to admit, it made her feel loads better. She found if she felt particularly stressed about homework or lessons, if she should took a little time to do something fun and entertaining, it helped alleviate the pressure. It reminded her of what she was living for and it made all of the demands of school and the war worthwhile. In her efforts to help others, Hermione really was helping herself.

That didn't mean that she wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to tell Harry or Ron what they ought to be doing. For example, while Harry was standing with her and Ron as they waited for Filch to inspect them with his Secrecy Sensor, he spoke of wanting to use his free time this morning to once again walk hopelessly back and forth in front of the Room of Requirement on the very slim chance that he would finally discover what Malfoy was up to. Although Hermione was also curious about what Malfoy was up to, there were much more important things Harry could be doing with his time, which Hermione wasted no time telling him.

"I've been trying!" said Harry crossly, which was perfectly true. Hermione remained quiet, slightly mollified. He really had been trying, but not nearly hard enough. "He doesn't want to talk to me, Hermione! He can tell I've been trying to get him on his own again, and he's not going to let it happen!"

"Well, you've just got to keep at it, haven't you?" Hermione said calmly as the queue moved forwards. Harry looked shiftily up at Filch and deciding that they were too close for comfort, he wished both her and Ron luck and went up the staircase, probably straight to the Room of Requirement. Hermione fought a sigh.

Ron of course noticed and rolled his eyes. "Leave it alone, Hermione. He'll get it."

"How?" Hermione said sharply. "How is he going to get the memory if he doesn't even try?"

"He is!"

"Oh really--?"

"Won-Won! There you are!"

Ron noticeably flinched; luckily, his back was to Lavender so she didn't see it. Lavender came up from behind Ron and wrapped her arms possessively around his waist and snuggled vigorously into his chest. Parvati came up next to Hermione, giving her a look as to say why-didn't-you-snog-him-when-you-had-the-chance-so-we-don't-have-to-put-up-with-this-lovey-dovey-tripe? Lavender for once had the good sense not to kiss Ron in front of Filch and just grinned up at him, ignoring Hermione completely. This had been Lavender's latest strategy in the keep-Hermione-away-from-Ron game; ever since Ron's accident, Lavender hadn't spoken a single word to Hermione, but would openly talk about her as if she weren't there or say or do things to intentionally irritate her. Hermione had tried to ignore Lavender, but admittedly had snapped once or twice, demanding that Lavender just talk to her instead of playing these stupid games. But Lavender would always just turn her back and sail away with her nose high in the air, content that she had won another battle against Hermione Granger.

Wanting Ron to remain oblivious about their constant squabbles, Hermione just averted her eyes and pretended not to notice Lavender reaching up to tickle underneath Ron's chin. She hit a sensitive area and Ron couldn't help laughing a little as he had swatted her hand away. Lavender seized it and held onto it with all of her might, her other arm wrapped around his waist and her face burrowed into his chest. "Did you have a good breakfast?" she asked brightly.

"Yes," Ron said distractedly. The queue moved again and Ron took a quick step forward, hoping that the motion would dislodge Lavender's arms. But she just held on fast and remained glued to his side.

"I'm sorry I didn't eat with you--Parvati needed to talk; what did you have?" Lavender continued cheerfully. Hermione quickly stepped ahead of them to be inspected by Filch first. Filch scowled as he poked at Hermione with his sensor, but Hermione didn't care. She just didn't want to have to watch Lavender and Ron cuddle with each other a second longer than necessary.

"Some food," Ron answered. She could hear the obvious discomfort in his voice as she began to walk briskly down the road to the main gate, putting Lavender's gushing prattle behind her. Hopefully, the fresh air would help her forget. A shuffle of footsteps behind her a few seconds later caused her to turn and Ron quickly caught up to her. "Sorry," he muttered. "What were we rowing about?"

"Ron!" Lavender called shrilly. Ron groaned but turned around to wait for Lavender and Parvati to catch up. Hermione hesitated, but decided to also wait. Lavender should know that she wasn't going to give up so easily. Lavender shot her a murderous glare but continued to act as though Hermione didn't exist. "You should hear Parvati's story about her date with Anthony Goldstein--it's really funny--you'd like it--" She took hold of Ron's arm and dragged him ahead. Picking up on the cue, Hermione hung back and let the three walk ahead of her. Lavender leaned close to Ron, but Hermione could still hear her hiss, "I see that you were with her again."

Hermione and Parvati both watched the couple with interest, wondering what would happen next. Ron looked as though he would like nothing more than to push Lavender into a vat of dragon dung, but with a vast amount of self-control, he managed to say something winningly charming in a quiet undertone that made Lavender reluctantly smile. Lavender picked up Ron's arm and placed it around her as she told Parvati to begin to recount her tale. Parvati complied as Hermione watched them for a minute with a little pang of jealousy. She would really like to be the one walking into Hogsmeade with Ron's arm around her.

Breathing deeply, Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and looked up at the sky as she walked along alone, forcing herself to think about more pleasant things. She smiled up at the bright blue sky that stretched above her. It really was a beautiful day, one of the first clear spring days they had had this year. It was a real blessing that they got to go down to the village; Harry had looked a little jealous when he had left them in the Great Hall. They all missed the trips into Hogsmeade. Hermione smiled briefly as she thought about her first visit to the village with Ron. Of course, back then, in third-year, she had been too young to realize what was happening between them, but she recalled that those particular visits to Hogsmeade had been charged with an indescribable energy that Hermione hadn't been able to place. Now she knew that it was really the first stirrings of young love, the first rush of hormones as the two of them had brushed hands for the first time and felt that marvelous ping and pop of attraction. Hogsmeade really was quite a magical place.

Ron turned slightly to look back over Lavender's shoulder to see where she was. He found her immediately, quickly flashed her a smile and a wink, and returned his attention to his girlfriend before Lavender realized what had happened. Hermione held her arms closer around her, an indescribable thrill drizzling down every single one of her nerves. Something felt so wrong about this, and it wasn't just that Ron was with another girl. It was that he was with another girl but he would still turn and flirt with her a little. It felt really wrong, but for the first time in Hermione's life, she understood why people did immoral things all the time. This particular type of wrong felt really good. She couldn't deny that those slow trickles of delight gave her more satisfaction than any kiss with Viktor ever had. For once, it felt good to be wrong, to bask in these tiny moments of indiscretion. It scared her a little how much she reveled in it, but Hermione just shook her head. She could savor these moments, but that didn't mean she would succumb to it. As long as Ron was with Lavender, she would never act on her feelings for him. She wasn't that type of girl and not even Ron would drive her to become that girl. As much as she loved Ron, she would never degrade herself for him. He wouldn't want her to. So she never would.

Hermione lifted her head with renewed confidence and kept on walking.

**

The fresh burst of confidence must have helped since Hermione's attempts at Apparition were particularly successful. Professor Twycross had asked her to go first as she was the only student who had effectively Apparated twice. To her surprise, it had been almost easy: she had concentrated on her destination, she had focused her determination, and with a graceful turn, she had moved with deliberation. As she had the other two times, there was a painful squeezing sensation, a pop, and she was there. Twycross had led an obligatory applause and Hermione had thought she had heard Ron let out an approving whistle although she wasn't sure he would dare to with Lavender there. Lavender had gone next--possibly to prove that Hermione wasn't the only talented witch in their year--but she hadn't been successful. It had taken her four tries and she had ended up twenty feet short of her destination. Sulking, she and Parvati--who had also failed--moved to the back of the group while the others took their turn. Ron had waited until the very end to try his hand, probably using the time to watch the others and pick up tips. Hermione had held her breath as Ron scrunched his face in concentrated, muttered to himself, and turned deliberately on the spot. With a pop, he was gone and appeared grinning a few feet away from Scrivenshaft's instead of Madam Puddifoot's. This time, Hermione had led the applause as she too grinned widely. Ron had finally Apparated.

Very pleased with himself, Ron had even allowed Lavender to take hold of his hand while Twycross asked Hermione to Apparate one more time. No one had arrived at their intended destination with such precision as Hermione had. Hermione had obliged with the same results. Beaming at his best pupil, Twycross had invited them all to the Three Broomsticks for a drink as a reward for their efforts. With a cheer, the students had rushed into the pub and gathered around the bar. Madam Rosmerta, looking a little bemused, laughed at the palpable excitement in the room and began filling orders as quickly as she could. Hermione turned to see if she could somehow sit with Ron, but she couldn't find him in the crowd around the counter.

But as soon as she gotten her butterbeer, Hermione felt someone clap her proudly on the shoulder; Twycross was using the opportunity to continue to lecture to his students. Granted, most of them weren't listening, but he was oblivious to that fact. "If you want to really learn about Apparating, you should really ask Miss Granger here to show you her method. She really has mastered the art of Apparition." As always when praised by a teacher, Hermione blushed slightly and straightened her shoulders with pride. And as always when she was praised by a teacher, the other students gave her sullen looks that always momentarily made Hermione reconsider flaunting her intelligence. She didn't want people to think she was a show-off. She forced a smile. She also found as she got older that praise from her teachers wasn't as important to her anymore. There were much more important things in life than doing well in classes. It had taken her six years, but Hermione had finally realized what Ron and Harry had been trying to tell her: grades weren't the most important thing in life.

A part of her was glad that Ron wasn't here to witness this although she was becoming increasingly concerned. She had thought he had gone to the bathroom or something, but now Hermione wasn't sure he was even in here. Two Aurors were patrolling the village so it was unlikely that the Death Eaters could attack him without somebody knowing, so Hermione pushed that from her mind. Besides, she didn't even want to consider that possibility. She just hoped that he wasn't being stupid and practicing Apparating on his own. The crowd was dissipating to various tables so it was easier for Hermione to look about the room. Sure enough, Ron wasn't there and Lavender was starting to look a little sulky and worried too. However, it was at that moment that Parvati slipped into the pub, hurried over to Lavender, tapped her on her shoulder, and showed her the new sparkling hair clips she had sneaked off to buy. With wide eyes, Lavender squealed as she inspected the accessories, forgetting all about her boyfriend. Hermione rolled her eyes. Girls.

She had hardly realized that Twycross was still speaking about her extraordinary skills in Apparating until he patted her on the shoulder again. She hadn't even realized that his hand was still there. "...I've honestly never seen a student take such an aptitude to the field so early. It's highly unusual for a student to be able to Apparate repeatedly after only two months of practice." Madame Rosmerta, the only person who was still listening, wiped off the counter and nodded in agreement. She had loads of trouble with Apparating. Twycross turned to appeal to her. He felt that Hermione's talent in the area was a testament to his teaching skills so everyone should know it. "And the fact that Miss Granger here is a Muggle-born--" Twycross shook his head with pride. "--it makes it all the more remarkable."

Hermione twitched, pulling herself free from Twycross's hand with a strained smile. Madame Rosmerta nodded with agreement, augmenting Hermione's distaste. Did everyone in the wizarding world believe that Muggle-borns should be inferior to purebloods? It was this type of unconscious prejudice that had contributed to the war and Hermione had to look away to hide the look of outrage on her face. Would their world ever be purged of that discrimination?

Twycross chuckled heartily, misinterpreting Hermione's gesture as modesty. "Don't be so modest, Miss Granger! You should be proud! You were perfect! I've never seen a student Apparate so smoothly so early! Perfect!" He tilted her head up in the air with a forceful finger. "So don't look away--be proud! You were perfection!"

Hermione nodded, blushing more than ever. Twycross was going a bit overboard with the flattery. Maybe he had had a few more drinks before the practice session. Beaming, Twycross chucked Hermione under the chin as if she were a particularly adorable five-year-old before turning back to Madame Rosmerta for a refill. Hermione let out a long breath and considered her options; she needed to get away before Twycross could resume his long-winded praise.

"Wow," Ron's familiar voice drifted into her grateful ear from behind her. Hermione rolled her eyes as she turned to give him a reproachful look. He didn't deserve to know that she had been more than a little worried. He grinned at her. "I think you've got yourself a boyfriend, Miss Granger," he teased.

She didn't even dignify that remark with a retort. "And just where have you been?" she asked instead with her arms folded sternly over her chest. For some odd reason, she found herself sounding more and more like Mrs. Weasley whenever she chided Ron.

"Oh, you know, out and Apparating about," Ron said easily. Hermione rolled her eyes again. Since Ron had successfully Apparated once, he suddenly fancied himself to be an expert in the field even though he had overshot his intended destination by several yards. If he had been Apparating for real, a few yards could determine the difference between a safe landing and mortal peril. Ron took a step closer to her, keeping one hand behind his back. One eye flickered over to Lavender to make sure she was successfully diverted before continuing. "And I did not return from my travels without a souvenir, oh, no--" He deftly brought his hand out from behind his back, twisting the object around between his long fingers so Hermione couldn't get a good look at the slender item until it was right in front of her: one single sugar quill, her favorite candy. "--for the queen of Apparition."

Slowly, Hermione took the candy from Ron. Ron was such a quandary at times. He could be acting so ridiculously silly one minute as he prattled about Apparating about, but the next, he could be standing there, looking straight at her, smiling almost shyly and clearly praying that she would accept a small token of his affection. He could be so confident and boisterous one minute--almost like the twins--and the next, he was exuding this disarming charm complete with a lopsided smile that was so uniquely his own. He was a clear descendant of the Weasley clan--he showed elements of all his siblings as well as his parents--but at the same time, he was a total individual. Not one person Hermione had ever met could play chess like he did, could laugh so effortlessly like he could, could just let himself go and relax like he did, and not one single person could make her heart somersault like he could. He really was a myriad of everything.

"Thanks," Hermione said quietly. Ron shrugged, still smiling that mysteriously powerful lopsided grin, and wandered towards the bar to get a drink. He would probably promptly try to flirt with Madame Rosmerta. Hermione sighed as she inhaled the faint sugary scent of the candy through the wrapper. Ron may be utterly charming at times, but he was still a teenaged boy. He still was going to goggle over pretty girls. He was still going to date another girl because he liked to have a meaningless snog. She still was going to be insanely annoyed at him. But then she could look at things like the perfume in her trunk, or Bilius or now this sugar quill which Hermione knew she would never eat. Then she could remember and know that the day she had been dreaming about was coming.

Hermione smiled and fingered the wrapper of the candy with everlasting hope. It was coming very, very soon.