Hermione Granger and the Half-Blood Prince

I am what I am

I'll do what I want

But I can't hide

And I won't go

I won't sleep

I cannot be

Until you're resting in here with me...

"Here With Me" Dido

**

On a particularly beautiful day in April, Hermione Granger found herself on the top of the Astronomy Tower, a place she only visited whenever she wanted to be alone and just think or sometimes to just cry. Today, she sat on the wide ledge with her feet dangling in the air, leaning back with her hands securely clenching the lip of the ledge. It was late afternoon, after classes had finished for the day, so the sun was still beaming down on Hermione's pensive face as she stared out onto the vast hills of Hogwarts, at Hagrid's hut, the wide expanse of the lake, the threatening shadows of the Forbidden Forest. Hogwarts was really the most beautiful place she had ever seen. Hermione couldn't bear to think of the day when she wouldn't be here any longer. In some ways, Hogwarts felt more like home than Winterbourne ever had been, probably because it was the first magical place she had ever known and loved so dearly.

But unfortunately, Hermione hadn't come here to think about her beautiful home. She had come to think about something infinitely more sinister: Horcruxes. The actual ripping of your soul into another object in order to prolong your life. That was why Voldemort had survived the Killing Curse so many years ago. That was the key to his nearly immortal status. That was the way to finally vanquish him.

But how?

Hermione leaned farther out over the Astronomy Tower, tightening her grip on the ledge so she could look down at the grounds far below. After flying so much this summer with Ron and Harry, she didn't have a particular fear of heights so her stomach gave a funny little swoop of exhilaration rather than fear. Dangerously, she kicked her legs in the open air, reveling in the weightless sensation that tingled through her legs. This was almost good as flying and it was just what she needed right now. She had considered getting Ron and asking if he wanted to fly, but the Ravenclaws were currently practicing on the pitch so there would be no place for her and Ron to go. She had then thought about asking Ron if he wanted to go for a walk or something, but then had decided against it. She didn't want to depend on him today. She only wanted herself.

The wind whipped her hair back and for once, her curls flew nowhere near her face. Hermione shifted her weight more securely so she didn't have to worry about her balance. She could just think about what to do next. Harry was forced to make so many difficult choices. He had to do so much. It just wasn't fair. Hermione really wished sometimes she could take on some of Harry's massive load for him. She wished that she could tell him that it was now her obligation to save the world so he could go focus on his N.E.W.T. classes and Quidditch. Hermione let out a little breath. Harry's interest in school and even Quidditch was slipping with every passing day. He obviously still cared about both, but he had a greater mission to focus on and Hermione could see that that was where his heart really lay. Even as he sought the Snitch or wrote a Defense essay, his mind was somewhere else. He was really thinking about Horcruxes or Voldemort or maybe, possibly, Ginny. He just didn't care about schoolwork anymore. In fact, if Dumbledore wasn't giving him those lessons, Hermione wondered if Harry would even consider leaving like Fred and George had last year. Even she had to admit that sometimes an educational facility could offer a particular person so much guidance. Fred and George's talents had lain somewhere else so when it had become too much, they had moved on. Perhaps Harry would want to do the same.

But that would only be an issue when Harry's lessons with Dumbledore ended and the hunt for the Horcruxes really began. She didn't have to worry about that for a while. What she needed to think about was how to get Harry started on his quest. Her eyes cast around uselessly for a quill and parchment. She really should make a list of everything she would need to do to help. He would need to find out for certain what the final four items were--although that would be more of Dumbledore's task since he had all of Voldemort's memories. But if she found some biographies or chronicles pertaining to Voldemort, she might be able to come up with some theories of her own. Then Harry would have to know what spell to use on the Horcrux in order to release the piece of Voldemort's soul. Obviously, Dumbledore already knew how to do that too as he had already destroyed the ring that had shriveled up Dumbledore's hand, but it had to be extremely complicated. Harry might need help learning how to cast the spell. When he had learned all of that, he would then have to know where to look for these Horcruxes--Harry very well couldn't be running all over the country searching for them. Dumbledore had to be working on it as well, but Hermione knew she would be able to help immensely in that area. Copious research would be the best way to hunt down the possible hiding places. And of course, before Harry went off to help Dumbledore, he would have to review basic Defense spells, which shouldn't be too much of a problem. Harry was still far and away the strongest Defense student in their year, but it wouldn't hurt to find some new hexes and jinxes to use against any possible Death Eaters. He should also be learning different ways to break different enchantments that could have been cast to protect the Horcrux. They had no idea what he would be up against; he should be ready for anything.

Then there was what she should be doing to contribute. The Healing spells would be incredibly useful if she could just manage to actually perform them correctly. She was still having difficulty healing the numerous paper cuts she had from her massive amounts of reading; she was having a whole new level of appreciation for Madame Pomfrey. She had also started brewing some potions that would be useful in their fight. Hermione had even been tempted to ask Harry if she could use his Potions book so she could read the margins for tips; she was willing to overlook her aversion to the Prince for the greater good of the cause. But then she thought that Harry would get suspicious and think that she was trying to steal his book, so she went on without it. She may not be as skilled as the bloody Prince, but she had brewed Polyjuice Potion when she was only thirteen. She was quite capable of doing this alone.

There was so much to do. So much work to be done. She really shouldn't be just sitting here, thinking about what to do. She should be out there, actually doing it. Hermione slowly and carefully swung her legs back so her feet safely touched the roof of the tower. It really was a wonderful place to think. She should come here more often.

Hermione lingered for a few more moments, her head high as she once again soaked in the splendor of Hogwarts. There was so much to do.

But she was prepared to do it.

**

"Have you seen Harry?"

"What?" Hermione said distractedly as she slowly came to a stop, still half-reading the parchment she was carrying. It was several weeks after Harry had finally attained Slughorn's memory and although she was no closer to accomplishing all of the goals she had set for herself, she wasn't concerned about that at the moment. Right now, all of her attention was on Arithmancy. Because she had been so intent on helping Harry, she was worried that she hadn't given her homework the proper care. She had gone to her teacher to ask if she had made a mistake in a particularly nasty calculation, and to appease her, the professor had just handed the paper back with the perfect score clearly visible at the top of the parchment. Hermione had been reading it while walking, a trick she had perfected over her seventeen years, when Ron's voice had called out to her from behind. Hermione rolled up the essay with a sigh. She didn't think she would get the opportunity to concentrate on Arithmancy today.

Turning, she found Ron hurrying after her, looking grim and pale. There was a thin sheet of perspiration coating his forehead, making Hermione suspect what had just happened. "Did you throw up again?" she asked with a mixture of exasperation and concern. She knew Ron was incredibly worried about the Quidditch match on Saturday, but honestly.

"No--well, yeah--but that's not the point," Ron explained hurriedly. "Have you seen Harry?"

"No." Hermione stuck her essay in her bag so she could give Ron her full attention. "Isn't he at dinner?"

"No--he was--I--" Ron faltered, not sure to tell her how to tell her what he had just seen. Finally, he just settled on taking off down the hall as fast as his long legs could take him. "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"Hospital," Ron said shortly.

An unfortunately very familiar panic stabbed Hermione's heart. "Hospital?" The Quidditch rivalry was reaching an all-time high; it wouldn't be too surprising if Harry had fallen victim to a spiteful Ravenclaw's curse.

"I dunno if he'll be there, but he might, with the--" Ron cut himself off and just increased his stride. Hermione had to half-run to keep up with him. Whatever Ron had seen, it must have terrified him.

Ron dropped Hermione's hand so he could bang the double doors of the hospital wing open. Only one bed had curtains drawn around them, indicating that the patient was resting and should not be disturbed. Madame Pomfrey was nowhere in sight so she must have finished Healing the patient and retreated in her office. In fact, the only person in the ward was someone that Hermione did not expect to see hovering by Harry's bedside with red eyes and still-fresh tearstains lining her cheeks.

Pansy Parkinson took one look at the couple who had entered the hospital wing and charged with all of the fury of a raging manticore. "You!"

"Hey!" Hermione protested as Pansy tried to shove her out of the ward. She evaded Pansy easily while Ron just stood there and gaped. He had seen Pansy's malicious, spiteful, and vindictive side, but he had never witnessed Pansy when she became really livid. She looked even more like a fire-eating dragon than Hermione did. Hermione however didn't back down. She had witnessed Pansy's livid side before--and she could totally deal with it. "What happened? Where's Harry?"

"Oh, Harry!" Pansy mocked sarcastically, her face twisted in a mask of fury. She tried once again to push Hermione out the door. "Draco's dying and all you care about is precious Harry!"

"What?" Hermione just stared. Malfoy was the patient?

Ron turned so pale that Hermione thought he might pass out right then and there. "The blood."

Hermione wheeled around from Pansy, now wondering if she was going to pass out right then and there. "Blood? What blood?"

"Harry was covered in blood," Ron revealed reluctantly. "I didn't want to tell you because--he seemed fine--" He flicked one finger towards her face. "--and I knew you'd look at me like that and--" He soundlessly said another word before abruptly turning to Pansy. "What happened to Malfoy?"

Pansy was all too willing to tell the whole story. "Your precious Harry," she spat distastefully, "found Draco in the bathroom and attacked him for no reason. He did this spell that sliced him right open--" Ron closed his eyes and let out a groan, but there wasn't time for Hermione to ask him about it, "--and if Snape hadn't walked in when he did, Potter probably would have finished him off."

"I doubt that Harry would have attacked Malfoy for no reason; he must have done something," Hermione defended Harry stoutly although her heart was hammering sickeningly as a new thought struck her. If Snape had been the one to discover Harry and Malfoy fighting, there was no question of who would be blamed. There was only the disheartening question of whether or not Harry would be expelled.

"Draco breathes--that's enough for Potter--he hates him!" Pansy shouted furiously.

"Harry doesn't hate anyone!" Hermione returned.

Pansy let out a loud guffaw and threw her hands in the air as though she were praising some ancient god. "That's right--it's 'Saint Potter'!"

"That's enough!" Madame Pomfrey stormed irately over to the arguing girls. Ron looked back and forth between Hermione and Pansy in shock; he had never seen two girls go at it like that before. "I have a sick patient here and the last thing he needs is to hear your bickering! Is that understood?"

"Yes, Madame Pomfrey," Hermione said abashedly. Pansy mumbled something like an apology. Hermione waited until the nurse appeared to be satisfied with their apologies before speaking up again. "Will he be all right?"

"Mr. Malfoy will be just fine. Fortunately Severus got him to me in time." Pansy let out a huge sigh of relief and wiped her face furiously so the stupid Gryffindors wouldn't see her cry. "He will have to stay with me for a while--he did receive some bad injuries and he should have come to me sooner for his exhaustion."

"Exhaustion?" Pansy and Hermione said as one. Ron looked over at Hermione curiously; she had that I'm-figuring-something-out look on her face. "I told him he was overworking himself!" Pansy added as she gazed over at the curtain that shielded Malfoy from view.

Hermione however continued to frown at the nurse. "Exhaustion?" she repeated needlessly.

Madame Pomfrey gave her a knowing nod. "Exhaustion." She waved her hands at the children to shepherd them out of the hospital wing. "Now Mr. Malfoy is going to need a lot of rest--you know this, Miss Granger--so come back to see him tomorrow if you must. Otherwise, just let him rest. Good day." Quickly and efficiently, she pushed the three students out the door and shut it tightly behind them. There would be no more visitors in the ward today.

Pansy shot them a murderous look before stalking towards the stairs. Hermione and Ron hung back, Hermione staring thoughtfully at the door of the hospital wing. Ron just watched her. "What?" he said anxiously.

"If Malfoy's being treated for exhaustion, he must be working really hard on something," Hermione said pensively. Something niggled in her mind. She felt as though she was hovering on the edge of figuring something important out and all she needed was one little push. But no push came. Hermione pushed her hair back with a sigh. Maybe Harry was right. Maybe Malfoy was a Death Eater. She had never seen him work so hard on school; what could be so important that he would risk his own health and sanity?

Ron nodded towards the door. "What'd Pomfrey mean? When she said you knew that Malfoy needed loads of rest?"

"I've been treated for exhaustion," Hermione said absently. She abruptly turned towards the stairs. "We better find Harry."

"When did that happen?" Ron asked, looking more shocked than he had when he watched Pansy and Hermione bicker.

"Some time in third-year. I think it was a few days before we made up. How did Harry know that spell?" She stopped dead to look at Ron directly. "You know, don't you? How does Harry know a spell that could have done that to Malfoy?"

Ron looked distinctly uncomfortable. He fidgeted nervously. "You know how."

"I think I need to hear it." Hermione folded her arms over her chest and waited.

With a sigh, Ron looked away from her and braced himself. "The Prince."

For a moment, Hermione didn't say anything. She just breathed raggedly, her mind boiling. She knew it. She knew that the only way Harry would learn a Dark spell was to read it out of that stupid book. He should have known better--he was getting reckless--he was using that book far too much--he had to be stopped before somebody else got hurt--

She hadn't realized she had started pacing again until Ron grabbed her arm to stop her. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Somehow, she just knew that Ron had jumped back to their previous topic, but she wasn't about to let him get away with it so easily. "It wasn't important," she said distractedly. "What was the incantation?"

"I dunno. I didn't see Harry use it. You were in hospital, Hermione--that's important!"

"We weren't speaking at the time--how was I supposed to tell you? And if you didn't see the spell, how do know it's from the Prince?"

"Because Harry came up and asked for my book--I reckon Snape asked to see his and he wasn't about to give that up--"

"What?"

"--you should have told me, Hermione!"

"You shouldn't have given your book to Harry!"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Hermione flapped her hands impatiently. "Can we please argue about one thing at a time?"

Ron couldn't help smiling ruefully. "I reckon we're getting that good at it."

The corners of her mouth twitched but Hermione pushed it down. "Ronald."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Ron asked stubbornly. They were going to finish his argument first.

"Because I thought you would feel guilty for not knowing and you felt bad enough about our row," Hermione replied honestly. Ron blinked, suddenly looking slightly abashed. She had kept it from him to save him from pain; he understood that feeling all too well. "Besides, it hardly matters, does it? I obviously recovered. So who cares? It's behind us." She resumed walking towards the tower. "Now can you tell me exactly what happened with Harry?"

It took a minute for Ron to answer. "He was running up the stairs covered in blood and saw me and asked for my Potions book. I asked what was wrong and he said he didn't have time to explain. He took my book and his and ran towards the common room. I went after him, but by the time I got the common room, he was already gone. Demelza said he had ran in, got some book from his bag, and took off again."

"His Potions book," Hermione said flatly.

Ron nodded. "I checked his bag," he confirmed. He gave her a sideways look. "What d'you reckon's going to happen?"

"I don't know." Hermione quickened her stride. Harry could be in the common room and she had to know what had happened. "But I certainly hope that he's learned his lesson about the Prince now."

"Don't say anything," Ron warned sharply. "He looked upset enough. He doesn't need a lecture--"

"I don't lecture!"

"--right now and bloody hell, you lecture! You lecture me all the bloody time!"

"I do not! I inform--"

"Hah!"

"Ron!"

"Hermione!"

And so another row had begun.

**

And it wasn't the only row Hermione had with a Weasley that evening. Much later that evening, after Harry and Ron had gone to bed, Hermione went up to the fifth-year girls' dormitory and knocked hesitantly on the door.

"Yeah?" a girl's voice called from the other side. Hermione opened the door and hesitated on the threshold when she saw Ginny sitting on her bed, in her pajamas but still clearly too agitated to sleep. Demelza and Portia Walbridge took one look at Hermione and Ginny and silently and hastily retreated into the bathroom to give the girls some privacy.

Hermione waited until the door had securely closed before risking a small smile and sticking her thumb towards the closed door. "How much do you want to bet that they're listening through the door?"

Ginny didn't say a word. She just looked at her, waiting for an apology.

But she wasn't going to get one. "I was just trying to help, Ginny," Hermione tried to explain calmly, but Ginny just shook her head stubbornly, still too riled up to listen to reason.

"You didn't have to go and scold him like he was five, Hermione!"

"Harry can't keep using that book!"

"I'm not saying he should," Ginny snapped.

"Then what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that the last thing Harry needs right now is to have you lecturing him when he already feels bad enough about what he's done!"

"But I don't know that," Hermione responded honestly. "He wants to go back to the Room of Requirement and get that book back--that doesn't sound like he feels bad to me; it sounds as though he wants to keep using the Prince."

Ginny just gaped at her momentarily. "Are you daft--did you see him down there--he feels awful!"

"No, I didn't see that." Hermione's voice became abruptly quiet and earnest. "I don't see what you see. You know that."

Ginny's fists clenched spastically as her cheek muscle twitched. "Don't, Hermione," she warned, not wanting to go down that road tonight. What she felt for Harry had nothing to do with what they were rowing about.

"No, it's true," Hermione explained. "I don't see what you see--I don't even see what Ron sees. You both understand Harry in a way that I never will and you have to understand, Ginny, that that's really frustrating sometimes--and I try to help him, I really do, but honestly I just don't know what to do sometimes about Harry."

There was a slightly awkward silence. Hermione folded her arms over her chest, a little uncomfortable about admitting this, even to Ginny. It hurt to think that in some ways, she would never really understand her best friend.

"Well," Ginny finally spoke. "You could try shutting up."

Stung, Hermione opened her mouth to retaliate, but then she caught the teasing glint in Ginny's eyes. She was joking. Sort of.

"He doesn't need lectures, Hermione," Ginny continued more seriously. It was amazing how quickly Weasleys could forget about their temper when they saw that their friend was in honest need for some council and guidance. "He knows what he's done and what he needs to do. He just needs a friend. It may surprise you, but Harry's not friends with you because you help him with homework. He cares about you. Your intelligence is just a bonus."

Feeling that the storm had passed, Hermione pressed her luck and took a seat on Ginny's trunk. Now that she had finally confessed such a deep intimate problem that she barely recognized herself, she was suddenly dying to talk about it with the one person who knew Harry the best. "I feel like all I do is lecture him now," Hermione admitted. "He's grown up so much--and so have I, I guess--and I feel like we're different people than we were first-year and I knew how to be his friend back then, but now--" Hermione trailed off and shook her head helplessly before changing the subject slightly. "And maybe it's because he feels uncomfortable around Ron and me after everything and I know he likes Ron better than me--"

"That is not true," Ginny immediately refuted. Hermione shrugged her shoulder vaguely. Ron and Harry shared a bond that no one could ever break. When they had first met, Harry desperately needed a brother and Ron needed a brother who didn't treat him like a little brother. They both needed that fraternal camaraderie that had instantly developed the first day they had met on the Hogwarts Express. She on the other hand had to earn their friendship. She had to fight for it which made it harder to maintain. Harry and Ron's friendship came as naturally as breathing and that was why she would never be as close to them. You could never tear apart two brothers.

"It is," Hermione finally spoke, shielding the petty jealousy that she always fought to hide. It was silly and stupid, but it was still there nevertheless. "The second task proved how much Harry cares for Ron and if you saw Ron's face when he pushed Harry away from Sirius in third-year, you would know that Ron would walk through fire for Harry."

Ginny arched her eyebrows skeptically. "And Ron would just let you burn, would he?"

"That's not what I meant." Hermione fiddled with her fingers. It was a little disconcerting how much it scared and thrilled her to know the sacrifices Ron was willing to risk for her. "I know Ron would do anything for me, just like I would for him. And I'd do anything for Harry too--but I know what I can do to help Ron. I can look at him and see--and sometimes, not even see, I can just know--" Her brow creased slightly in confusion. "--and I don't know how, but I just do." She raised her shoulders with a helpless shrug and repeated the crux of the problem. "I don't know what to do to help Harry." She bit her lip momentarily before making another confession. "I feel like I'm letting him down."

"Is that why you've been working so hard with that research?" Ginny asked shrewdly after a moment of quiet.

Hermione frowned. "How do you know about that?"

"Ron," Ginny said simply, as if that explained it all. However, Hermione continued to look slightly perplexed, wondering why Ron would bother to tell Ginny about her study habits. Ginny just smiled. "Come on, Hermione, do you have any idea how much my brother talks about you?" She allowed Hermione to savor that thought and blush for a few seconds before getting back down to business. "Do you like Ron better than Harry?"

"Of course not," Hermione answered instantly. Obviously, she cared about Ron on a much different, more intimate level, but that didn't mean that she didn't treasure her relationship with Harry. She had come to look at Harry like an older brother and to reciprocate, she had adopted a sisterly attitude towards him, taking care of him and making sure that no harm could ever come to him. But now it seemed that Harry didn't want a sisterly or even a parental figure in his life; he could take care of himself now. He just wanted all the friends he could get.

Serenely, Ginny nodded in agreement with Hermione's answer and continued. "You know why we didn't get along at first?"

"Because you thought I fancied Harry," Hermione guessed logically. Ginny wasn't the only one to make an assumption.

"No," Ginny negated. "Because I thought he liked you." She scooted a little closer to Hermione. "You said that I see things about Harry that you don't, and I can see it, Hermione. He'll never say it because he's Harry, but he loves you, Hermione. You may not see it, but it's there. You just have to trust him. He can work things out on his own and if he can't, he'll let you know it. You just have to trust that and be a friend."

Hermione nodded, suddenly rather appeased and serene. Ginny Weasley really was incredibly insightful. She really hoped Harry would finally open his eyes and see what a wonderful woman was waiting patiently for him.

Feeling that the subject was closed for the moment, Ginny let out a sigh and leaned against her bedpost. "So. Our first row."

"Yes," Hermione confirmed with a smile.

Ginny leaned forward as though there were loads of spies straining to hear their conversation. "How d'you think it went?" Ginny asked in a conspiring whisper.

"Well, considering that Harry and I didn't speak for over a month after our first row and my first row with Ron was immediately followed by our second, third, and fourth, I think it went pretty well," Hermione answered lightly.

"I agree." Ginny nodded with mock solemnity. "Well, there's only one thing to do."

Quickly and earnestly, Ginny sat up on her knees to give one of her dearest friends an apologetic hug. Hermione returned it wholeheartedly. As much as she loved Harry and Ron, sometimes it was really nice to be such good friends with a girl.

**

Ginny Weasley wasn't just an incredible friend. She was also an incredible Quidditch player, more incredible than Hermione initially gave her credit for. Harry was just such a remarkable flier that everyone usually paled in comparison. But now that Harry wasn't here--Hermione sighed--she could see just how strong the team really was. Hermione gasped as Ginny dove again at a breakneck speed. Cho Chang tiredly followed suit although she knew that there was no Snitch to snatch. Ginny had already successfully feinted five times throughout the match and Cho had fallen for it every time. But not anymore, it seemed, which Hermione suspected was Ginny's intention. This way, when Ginny actually went for the Snitch, Cho would be slower to react.

A loud 'ooo' of disappointment resonated across the Gryffindor portion of the stands and Hermione quickly turned her gaze back to the goals. Ron was flipping back onto his broom, his face red with disappointment. He had just been scored off of again. Nevertheless, Hermione let out a cheer of support and clapped her hands encouragingly as Dean took control of the Quaffle and zipped towards the Ravenclaw end of the pitch with Demelza and Katie ahead of him, waiting for a pass. Dean didn't disappoint; he feinted tossing the Quaffle to Demelza and quickly threw it to Katie instead. Katie scored easily, rousing a loud cheer of triumph.

While clapping, Hermione leaned forward so she could see the scoreboard where Zacharias was blandly commentating once again. Apparently, Ron was the only fan of Luna's commentary. "What's the score?" Neville shouted over the chant of "Go, go, Gryffindor" led by Seamus and Lavender who were looking a little cozy for just friends.

"Two hundred and eighty to a hundred and forty," Hermione relayed, doing fast calculations in her head. "If we score once more and Ginny catches the Snitch, we'll win the Cup."

Emboldened by her statement, Neville jumped up onto the bench he had been sitting on and cheered louder than ever as Ginny feinted again for Cho's benefit who was looking decidedly peeved with Ginny's constant antics. Pumping one fist in the air, Neville renewed the Gryffindor's cheer with ardent fervor. The Quaffle was sailing back towards Ron's hoops and with the cries of his classmates ringing in his ears, Ron forgot his frustrations with his earlier failures and caught the ball as easily as if it had been handed to him. The cheer quickly changed to an inspiring round of "Weasley is Our King." With a wide grin that Hermione could even seen from where she was sitting, Ron wrenched his arm back and flung the ball as far as he could. Demelza had been lingering by the goals so he had been trying to pass the Quaffle to her. However, the Quaffle amazingly flew over her outstretched hands, past the Keeper's, and straight through the goal.

For a moment, Ron just stared in shock. Then, as he realized what he had just did, Ron raised both fists in the air in triumph and let out a loud yell of triumph. Hermione cupped her hands over her mouth and whooped her approval. She was now on her feet. If Ginny caught the Snitch now, they would win the Cup. Desperate, the Ravenclaws tore back across the pitch to try to earn their lead back, but Ron kicked away the Quaffle from his goal again and thanks to a brilliantly executed passing ploy, Katie scored off the weary Ravenclaw Keeper again. It was three hundred to a hundred and forty.

And this time, when Ginny dove, she wasn't feinting. Hermione could tell. Before, whenever Ginny had dove, it had been fast, steep, and daring, but this particular dive was just flat out dangerous. This was the way that Harry flew naturally; he was the only one who could without an intense amount of concentration, skill and raw recklessness. Ginny would only risk her neck like this if it was for the actual Snitch. Cho hesitated for two seconds before she too realized that this wasn't a feint. The two girls rocketed towards the ground, eyes straining for the flash of gold. Ron risked taking his eyes off the Quaffle to watch his sister, but luckily Dean stole the Quaffle from the distracted Ravenclaw Chaser and soared a safe distance away so he could watch them. Having a superior broom, Cho had managed to catch up so the Seekers were neck and neck, arms out and reaching, straining, clawing...

Elbowing Cho's arm out of the way, Ginny bent forward, almost falling off her broom in her attempt to close her fingers around the tiny, fluttering ball. Enraged, Cho poked her bony elbow back at Ginny, knocking her off balance so Ginny fell the final five feet to the grass, landing hard on her stomach. The Gryffindors let out a cry of outrage, but Ginny held up her hand to silence them, rolling over on the side so she could reveal the gold ball in her fingers.

"GRYFFINDOR WINS! FOUR HUNDRED AND FIFTY TO A HUNDRED AND FORTY! THEY HAVE MIRACULOUSLY WON THE CUP!"

No one cared that Zacharias Smith's voice was obnoxiously loud and bland, indicating his disappointment. The Gryffindors were too busy celebrating. Hermione was jumping and down in glee, screaming and embracing Neville, Seamus, not Lavender because that would be awkward, Parvati, Neville again...

With one arm still around Neville, Hermione looked down at the pitch at the mass pile of Gryffindors that had descended onto Ginny. McGonagall was striding out towards them, her tartan hat askew in her glee, her eyes shining as she held out the Quidditch Cup towards her team. At first, no one moved to take it, as that was the Captain's place and the Captain sadly was not there. Hermione glanced over at the castle, wondering where Harry was and what he was doing and how soon it would be until he would be able to join them because he was going to be so proud. Katie then nudged Ginny forward, as she was the reason they had won, but Ginny shook her head and smiling, gestured to Ron. Demelza clapped Ron on the back in hearty agreement and pushed him forward. Beaming, Ron stepped forward and took the Cup. He held it high over his head for all to see and the crowd roared with approval. Even some begrudging Slytherins clapped their hands. Anyone could see that this was the team that really deserved to win.

Hermione couldn't take it any longer. She had to get down there. Extracting herself from Neville's arms, she slipped easily through the crowd that was attempting to swarm onto the pitch. She was quite adept at this as she had been doing it since first-year. Granted, it had been easier in the days when Ron was here to push his way through, but she was still rather petite and slight so she managed to get down faster than most. The team by this point were giving each other individual hugs of congratulations, talking animatedly about different plays and ploys--Hermione could see from the way Ron was gesticulating that he was replaying the moment he had scored from his own goals with Katie. Katie laughed heartily before turning to Dean. Ginny then slipped over to her big brother and gave him a huge hug. She said something to him that made him grin even more and almost not notice when she tried to take the Cup from him. But he wasn't that pleased--smirking, he held the Cup high over his head again so his much smaller sister had no chance of getting it away from him. He retorted something undoubtedly sarcastic and big-brotherly to her and Ginny rolled her eyes good-naturedly but desisted. Proudly, Ron slung his free arm around her and gave her another one-armed hug. Hermione smiled. In spite of all of his teasing, Ron really was a very good older brother.

But now, Ron's eyes were roving the crowd, searching desperately for someone. Hermione's heart hammered wildly; she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was looking for her. He wanted to see her as badly as she wanted to see him. Elbowing some cheering fans out of the way, Hermione finally fought her way through the singing and chanting fans towards him.

"Hey!" Ron exclaimed when he finally spotted her. It was only then that Ron handed off the Cup to Ginny so he had both arms free to catch her as she threw her arms around his neck. Ron squeezed her so fiercely that he lifted her so far off the ground that not even her toes grazed the tips of the grass. A little squeal and laugh escaped out of her as she buried her face into his shoulder. She was so proud of him.

"Congratulations," Hermione said into his Quidditch robes.

Ron didn't answer straightaway; he just held her a little closer. Hermione lifted her head so she could beam down at him. She rather liked being held like this; for once, she was taller than him. His grin was just as wide and radiant as hers. "Admit it," he cajoled. "You love Quidditch, don't you?"

"I wouldn't say that," Hermione negated with a laugh. She didn't know why she felt so giddy and silly; probably from the excitement of the entire match and being swept up in such a mass of exhilaration. Normally, she would have been a little self-conscious, but there was something very safe about being in a mass of so many people. Because there were so many other people and things to look at, no one would pay attention to the two of them. So even though they were in a huge crowd, it was as though they were the only two people in the world.

"You do, you do," Ron wheedled teasingly. "Look at you. You love it."

"I love it when you play it," Hermione answered honestly, without thinking of the implications. Ron's grin faded a little, but the joy in his eyes didn't abate in the slightest. Hermione didn't even blush; she was too ecstatic to be bashful. Besides, he already knew that he owned her heart. He should get used to hearing her say so out loud. "Aren't you going to put me down sometime this century?"

He immediately did, but his eyes said something else. His eyes told her that he never ever was going to let her go. That look alone made Hermione's stomach finally jolt with nerves as she replayed what had just happened. Luckily, before she could dwell on it, Ginny was grabbing her and they were chattering away about the match and the party to come. By the time, Ron was lost in a sea of congratulatory fans and Ginny was asking her to wait outside the changing room so they could go to the party together. Hermione agreed and hung back as the crowd surged towards the castle, chanting, cheering, yelling, and grinning with a glee and fervor that had been sadly absent from Hogwarts for most of the year. There were just so many other things to worry about. Hermione brushed back her windswept hair while she waited, smiling pensively. As petty as it was, it was really nice to know that despite of everything, people such as herself still could thoroughly enjoy something as simple as Quidditch.

**

Ginny was the only member of the team who had wanted to change out of her robes--the others preferred to bask in the glory of their team for as long as possible--so the two girls were one of the last ones to arrive at the party. Hermione looked around and saw that Harry unfortunately was not back yet. Ron was sitting on the refreshment table, clutching the Cup with one hand and dolling out butterbeer and candy with the other, while he regaled them with over-dramatic reenactments of his saves. Shaking her head, Hermione discretely took two butterbeers and followed Ginny over to one of the vacant couches. Ron really was quite multi-talented and incredibly engaging when he wanted to be.

"What did you tell him?" Hermione asked curiously as she handed Ginny one of the drinks. "After you made him get the Cup?"

"That he had to take it," Ginny answered. She popped open her butterbeer and sank into the cushions. "He had to be the one to give it to Harry and besides--" She shrugged matter-of-factly. "--if Harry couldn't be there to get it, he would want Ron to be the one to take it for him."

Hermione's eyes returned to Ron as he made over fifty people laugh with a single joke. No wonder Ron had looked so pleased. "He would," Hermione agreed.

Ginny glanced over at Hermione, then at Ron, then back at Hermione again. "You know, I thought he was going to kiss you," Ginny said honestly. She leaned her head back on the sofa. "When he picked you up like that. I really thought he'd do it. And then of course I was going to have to vomit from seeing Ron snog again, but I would have been really happy for you. If anyone can teach him how to snog properly, it's you."

"Thanks," Hermione said wryly. Ginny took a particularly long swig of her drink, something hardening in her eyes. She set down the bottle, obviously thinking long and hard about something very important. Hermione let her think for another minute before nudging her cautiously. For someone who had just helped her team win the Quidditch Cup, Ginny seemed rather subdued. "You okay?"

"Of course I am," Ginny said automatically. She quickly picked up her bottle again and took another drink without really tasting it. She just wanted to do something with her hands. "It must be nice. Being like that with Ron."

Hermione tilted her head. "How do you mean?"

"So close. To something." Ginny glanced over at the portrait hole. "Must be nice."

"Ron and I aren't close to anything," Hermione negated. "No closer than you and Harry are--you should see the way he's been looking at you, Ginny--it's just like he would look at Cho, but at the same time, it's different--I don't think he's ever felt this way about anyone, Ginny--"

"But he won't try anything. He won't try, because of Ron." Her bottle now empty, Ginny occupied herself by fiddling nervously with the bottle as she searched within herself to find a way to fill the emptiness that had always been within her that only Harry Potter could fill. "You and Ron have always had that. You've always been hovering on the edge of something wonderful and yes, maybe, Harry and I are getting there, but I don't know--"

"It'll happen," Hermione soothed knowingly. "I know it."

"Not if I don't do something," Ginny said grimly. Her eyes were riveted to the portrait hole. "For all I know, he has no idea that I still feel this way. You told me to act like myself," Hermione nodded; she had told Ginny as much in fourth-year. "so I did, but I had to pretend to be over him. And maybe I did in a way--I certainly stopped obsessing over him, but I still catch my breath whenever he smiles or breathes or..." She trailed off pensively. "He could run off with Romilda Vane tomorrow and never know," she said grimly. She set down the bottle with a loud thunk. "I can't have that."

"Ginny, what are you--"

"There he is," Ginny interrupted sharply. Hermione turned to see that Harry had just returned and Ron was bounding over to him with the Cup, yelling with joy. Hermione smiled as she watched Harry's face slowly light up with unmitigated pride. She really wished he had been there to see his team play so brilliantly. Ginny brushed past her silently with a hardened look on her face that Hermione had never quite seen before, almost as if Ginny was steeling herself for something rather important and life-changing. Boldly, Ginny raced over to Harry and flung her arms around him so forcefully that she almost knocked Harry over. Hermione's eyebrows shot up; so that is what Ginny meant--

Harry caught Ginny easily and without further ado, kissed her square on the lips.

Oh!

A huge smile spread over Hermione's face. Well, well, well! She certainly hadn't expected that to happen. It had taken Harry almost two years to finally summon up the nerve to kiss Cho; Hermione had thought that he would take as long to get around to admitting to Ginny how he felt, especially with the war. If the Death Eaters found out about this and targeted Ginny, knowing how much it would get to Harry--Hermione broke off that disturbing thought. She knew very well that one day Harry's innate nobility could hinder his relationship with Ginny, but not today. Today, it appeared that he was finally partaking in something that made him truly, blissfully, and completely happy.

The couple finally broke apart and the room remained dead quiet. No one knew quite to say or do. They had never seen something so romantic in their entire lives. Often, when teenagers see something so surprisingly beautiful, they have the inane urge to do something funny so several people almost simultaneously wolf-whistled their approval. Others giggled nervously. Most of the girls who had been lusting after Harry looked like they wanted to cry although Hermione could detect a trace of begrudging acceptance in their eyes. Even they know how right this coupling was. Only Romilda Vane still looked as though she was ready to punch Ginny in the face. But Ginny was too ecstatic to notice, her entire face lit up with a glowing smile and her cheeks bright pink with joy. Hermione had never seen her friend look so happy.

Harry however looked a bit edgy. His eyes were scanning the crowd and he passed over Hermione, she realized what he was looking for. Hermione turned to see Ron behind her, still clutching the Cup and wearing an expression appropriate to having been clubbed over the head. The two friends looked at each other for a fraction of a second, then Ron gave a tiny jerk of the head, clearly telling Harry to get on with it.

It was now Harry's turn to grin widely. Hermione had never seen Harry smile like that before; it made him look ten times more handsome than he already did. Romilda Vane sighed with longing, but Harry and Ginny were too occupied with grinning at each other like idiots to notice. Harry gestured wordlessly out of the portrait hole. Ginny nodded eagerly and hand-in-hand, the couple hurried out of the common room, probably to take a long walk out in glorious afternoon. Approving applause followed their exit and eventually died away as the Gryffindors resumed the celebration, still gossiping about what had just occurred.

Hermione didn't join in. She just went to Ron, who was gently setting the Cup down on the table. He still looked too flabbergasted to speak. That was fine with her; she had something important to do and didn't want to be interrupted.

"Ron?" she said quietly. Dazedly, Ron turned to her, still appearing as though he had just been clubbed over the head. "That was really nice of you," she told him earnestly.

Her words seemed to jar him from his I-just-saw-my-best-mate-kiss-my-sister stupor. A small, pleased smile crossed his face. "Oh, well, yeah, what was I going to do--?"

Hermione waved her hand to stop him. Ron could have done plenty. He could have punched Harry in the nose; he could have started yelling like a maniac; he could have forbidden Harry to come within thirty feet of his little sister. He could have demanded Harry to give up his Firebolt as retribution for snogging his sister and Harry would have done it. Harry would have sacrificed his happiness to appease Ron; they all knew that Harry would never do anything to preserve his and Ron's friendship. That was probably why Harry had been masking his feelings for Ginny; he was afraid of how Ron would react. But Ron had been a gentleman. He may not be entirely happy about the coupling, but he was willing to let it happen. He wasn't going to act like he normally did around Ginny's boyfriends. In fact, if his sister had to go out with someone, Ron would want it to be Harry, his best mate, the one person he trusted above all others. Hermione smiled proudly up at him and irrationally blushed as though Ron had been the one to grab her and kiss her in the middle of the crowded common room. It was just that Ron was actually growing up. He was really, actually, growing up. He may be ready sooner than she expected. Her dream may be coming true any day. And she was not going to let him belittle the magnitude of his actions. Ron disparaged himself far too often; for once, he was going to know just how wonderful she thought he was.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione pressed herself up on her tiptoes and dropped a soft, sweet, grateful kiss on his cheek. It ended quickly before Hermione could give in to the temptation to take it a little further. Ron suddenly looked as agog as he had a few moments earlier, but this time, there was a new bright gleam to his eyes that Hermione only had seen once before: the night she and Ron had snogged to avoid expulsion. She wondered if he had that expression on his face whenever he snogged Lavender. "Thank you," she told him. She indicated the portrait hole Harry and Ginny had disappeared through. "I don't think you know how happy you've made them."

"I'm starting to," Ron said quietly. His hand had crept up to touch the exact spot where her lips had pressed as if trying to prevent the glorious feeling tickling his cheek from dissipating.

"Oooooooo!" a nosy fourth-year crooned as she spotted Hermione and Ron standing so close together. She nudged her friend and pointed out the other possible couple. "We got another one!"

Like wildfire, the news spread about the common room that Hermione Granger had just kissed Ron Weasley--on the cheek, yes, but it was still a kiss nevertheless. After Lavender stormed up to her dormitory to pout, the coast was clear for Seamus to lead a rousing chant of "Kiss her, kiss her, kiss her, kiss her--". Hermione ducked her head in embarrassment. The mood had been sufficiently ruined.

"Bloody hell, that's enough!" Ron roared over the noise. "Or you lot will all be in detention!" Everyone laughed in disbelief, causing Ron's face to turn a brighter red. "I'm a prefect--I can do it!" he warned hotly.

He looked so ridiculously authoritarian that even Hermione giggled a little. Hiding her smile behind her hand so he wouldn't notice, Hermione used the diversion to slip unnoticed toward the portrait hole. She was still trying to find out who on earth this Half-Blood Prince person could be, especially after Harry had used that curse on Malfoy. She didn't want Ron and Harry to know yet about her outside research so she had taken to sneaking away at odd hours when she was certain that her friends would be efficiently distracted. Now that Harry and Ginny were doing so well--Hermione grinned--she reckoned that it would be a bit easier to get away from them from time to time.

"Hey--don't leave me alone with them!" Ron shouted when he spied Hermione's head slinking out of the portrait hole. "Wait up!"

Hermione popped her head back in. "I'm going to the library to do homework; did you really want to come?"

"Homework?!--Hermione, it's Saturday! We just won the Quidditch Cup!"

"It can't wait," Hermione insisted as she returned to the portrait hole. She thought she could hear other people laughing but she ignored it. There was abruptly a loud whistle of approval and a round of applause and before she knew it, Ron was jogging after her.

"Fine." He rolled his eyes in mock exaggeration. "If it can't wait." He pushed the portrait hole open and stepped aside to let Hermione through first. It took a moment for Hermione to step through. He had actually come. Ron was actually giving up a party with food, drinks, and girls to come sit in a musty library with her. He either had suddenly developed a strange fervor for the library or he just wanted to spend some time with her, no matter where they were or what they were doing.

Another roll of laughter followed them out into the corridor. "Yeah, sure, they're studying!" someone shouted with heavy sarcasm. Hermione flushed at the comment and looked away so Ron wouldn't see. Was that why Ron was here? Her stomach thudded along with her heart in anticipation. Were they ready for this? She certainly was; she had been waiting for Ron to get a brain and kiss her for ages. But he and Lavender had only broken up a short while ago; it didn't feel right for him to jump into another relationship so soon, especially since the second relationship would be much more serious than his nightly snogfests with Lavender.

"So what are we really doing?"

"What?" Hermione asked sharply, her voice squeaking on the last syllable.

He pointed to her empty arms. "You don't have your books so you can't be doing homework. You must be off to do something else."

Oh. She wracked her brain for a plausible reason for her trip to the library. "Horcrux research." She hadn't spent as much time as she would have liked on that subject recently so now was as good of a time as ever to start up again.

"But we know what they are now," Ron reminded her with a puzzled frown. "And didn't you already read every book in the library on the subject?"

"No, because there are none, or at least none I knew of," Hermione explained. "But at the time, I didn't know what a Horcrux was so I couldn't very well know where to look. Now that we know what a Horcrux is, we have a better idea what types of books to look in."

"I'm thinking Dark magic books," Ron said sarcastically. "Just a thought."

Hermione ignored his flip tone. "Fine. You look there. I'll try cross-referencing in another section. There has to be a sort of a charm to transplant the section of your soul into the object--Charms is probably our best bet. Harry needs to find out everything he can about Horcruxes if he wants to stand in chance in finding and destroying them all. Maybe there's even some sort of tracking charm we could use to find the missing objects."

"I reckon if there was, Dumbledore would have used it," Ron pointed out as he followed Hermione towards the Restricted Section.

"It still doesn't hurt to look," Hermione said doggedly.

Ron sidestepped around her to get in front of her, excited fire dancing in his eyes. Hermione raised her chin and waited. She knew that look all too well: the I-have-the-perfect-sarcastic-retort-to-hurl-at-you-and-perhaps-finally-actually-shut-you-up look. A row was brewing, but this time, more than ever, Hermione was acutely aware of the whirl of anticipation biting down on the pit of her stomach. She was just starting to realize just how much she loved these rows, how much she needed them, how much she had missed them when she and Ron weren't speaking. In spite of everything, she loved the way Ron could rile her up.

But as usual, Ron surprised her. He looked at the stubborn set of her jaw and just smiled. "All right," he conceded.

"All right?" Hermione repeated, openly baffled.

Ron's smirk grew even wider. This was just as much fun as infuriating her. "Yeah. All right." He reached the Restricted Section and opened the iron gate for her. "After you."

Bewildered, Hermione went past him and started collecting the books she had wanted to search through today. Ron obligingly helped her carry the load to a small nearby table and the two of them passed the afternoon reading, researching, and periodically taking a break to laugh, talk, and for the first time in several months, play footsy underneath the table.

Perhaps there were other things that would be just as fun as rowing with Ron.