Hermione Granger and the Half-Blood Prince

The more you see, the less you know

The less you find out as you go

I knew much more then

Than I do now...

"City of Burning Lights" U2

**

"You think they actually snog?"

Hermione didn't even bother looking up from her book. "No, I'm sure they just go into the fourth-floor broom closet to inspect the Cleansweeps."

"They were where?"

"Nowhere," Hermione lied as she serenely turned the page. She in fact had seen Ginny emerging from that exact location a few days earlier with tousled hair and a wide smile. She wasn't the least surprised to have seen Harry slip out a few seconds later looking equally amused. But Ron didn't need to know that.

He however seemed to assume the worse. Ron muttered something sullenly under his breath. Exasperated, Hermione finally closed her book and rose from their table. Ron had been constantly harping on Harry and Ginny's new relationship for the past two weeks and frankly, she was a little tired of it. She understood that Ron was very protective of his little sister, but this was Harry. Harry would die before he'd do anything to hurt Ginny.

She had tried telling Ron this simple fact in several different ways, but it didn't seem to be penetrating his thick skull. And frankly, if he was determined to be a git about this, love of her life or not, she was not going to put up with it. "I'm going to get another book," Hermione informed him in a quiet whisper. "Try to be in a better mood when I get back."

"Yeah, like that'll ever happen," Ron mumbled in the same sullen voice he adopted whenever the topic of his sister and Harry came up. They both realized at the same moment how awful of a comeback that was and Ron begrudgingly smiled at his stupidity. Hermione returned it before heading off to the Ancient Runes section. The dictionary Harry had given her two Christmases ago was quite thorough, but it was still lacking in certain areas.

Kneeling down so she could see the bottom shelf, Hermione scanned the thickest Ancient Runes volumes. She had thought she had known the library inside out, but the text she was looking for wasn't in that particular row. With a frown, she crawled forward to the end of the row. It wasn't there. Someone must have checked it out. She let out a little breath of disappointment. She had really needed that for her homework.

Her eyes wandered over to the next section: the library's collection of past Daily Prophets. She had been combing through those volumes for quite some time in her hunt for the Half-Blood Prince with no success. There were no Princes in the wizarding world. So who wrote that foul book that Harry was so attached to?

Hermione continued to stare at the Daily Prophets stacked neatly a few yards away as if they could give her an answer. There had to be a way to find out who wrote that book. The Prince, as much as she hated to admit it, was undeniably a genius at Potions. He must have caught the public eye at some point. Or she. No matter what Harry said to the contrary, Hermione was certain it was a girl who had written that book. She didn't know why; she just did. But still, Hermione had felt obligated to have checked the most obvious possibility first: that there was an actual title called 'Half-Blood Prince'. Now, however, after weeks of research, Hermione was certain she had exhausted that possibility. There had to be another explanation.

Once again, Hermione ran through the possibilities she had concocted. It could be a nickname. It could be an unofficial title that someone had named themselves. Or...Hermione ran her fingers distractedly through her hair...that was all she had come up with. A nickname seemed like the most likely of the two, but Hermione still felt intrinsically that something was still wrong about it. That couldn't be right either.

With a sigh, Hermione pushed herself off of the ground. She didn't have time to think about that just yet. She had to complete her homework first. Quickly, Hermione went over to the restock cart Madame Pince kept stationed near the front desk. The librarian was tidying up the Restricted Section, so Hermione felt free to thumb through the books without Pince's eagle eyes boring uncomfortably in her. As much as she respected the Hogwarts librarian, Hermione always had been strongly reminded of a vulture whenever she saw Madame Pince, a vulture that made her extremely uncomfortable.

As further proof of that fact, Ron came up behind her with his books, looking decidedly harried. "I can't stand it. Pince keeps glaring at me--I'm going back to the common room."

"She can't be that bad--" Hermione began automatically, feeling obligated to defend the Hogwarts faculty member and discourage the use of Madame Pince's last name. As a prefect, Ron should set an example and use a teacher's full title to show his respect...

But after a second of contemplation, Hermione could care less about Ron's level of respect for the faculty. There it was: that bolt of lightning that electrified all of her senses as she suddenly and abruptly knew beyond a shadow of a doubt what she had to do. She unexpectedly trailed off and turned back towards the stacks she had just come from, a very familiar pensive expression on her face. No matter how many times she would be charged with the sensation pure knowledge, it would always overwhelm her. "What?" Ron said instantly, his voice tight as he braced himself. "What'd you figure out?"

"Nothing," Hermione said distractedly. She tried to feign interest in what Ron had been saying although her mind was really racing with an endless stream of possibilities that had suddenly been thrown at her. "So you're going then?"

"Uh--yeah. I reckon." Ron shifted his books and fixed her with a knowing look. "Come on, Hermione, fess up. What's going on?"

Luckily, Hermione had already concocted a more than plausible lie and as much as she hated to use it, she had to. Ron would tell Harry in a heartbeat if he knew she was researching the origins of that bloody book. "Well, I've been working on this particularly difficult translation for Runes--Professor Grominn said she'd give us extra credit if we were able to get it--apparently, even scholars at the Ministry had difficulty deciphering it--for centuries, experts couldn't do it due to the lack of resources until 1923, when an Egyptian wizard came across--"

"All right, all right, I get it," Ron interrupted before he could fall asleep while standing up. "Go translate it. I'll see you."

"See you," Hermione returned with a vague wave before she strode back to the Daily Prophet shelves and heaved off a huge stack of newspapers. Excitement glittered in her eyes as she already began thumbing through the papers as she walked back to her table. It was amazing how sometimes Ron could give her a brilliant idea without even realizing it.

**

"Who are the Princes?" Ginny asked as she looked over Hermione's shoulder at the newspaper article she was reading about the Princes announcing that they would be donating a hefty chunk of their family fortune to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies. She then reached over to point at the upper right-hand corner of the newspaper. "And why are you reading an article that is one-hundred and forty nine years old?"

"Homework," Hermione said casually as she discretely slid the other papers she had set aside that contained information about the prominent Prince family. They had been strictly pureblood for generations so there was a lot of information to sort through. Hermione had been working tirelessly whenever she had the chance for the past week and a half, but she still hadn't found someone who could be the Half-Blood Prince Harry was so enamored with. "What are you up to?" she asked Ginny, hoping that the subject would be changed from the Princes. Although she was certain that Prince referred to a surname rather than an actual royal prince, she didn't want to bring it up to Harry until she had actual proof.

Ginny, who had had stars in her eyes ever since the Quidditch final, was all too willing to oblige. With a dreamy smile, she dropped lightly down into the chair next to Hermione, not caring that there was a stack of newspapers there. "Studying for O.W.L.s," she answered. She propped her chin up in her hand and stared up at the ceiling.

"I see," Hermione said dryly, skepticism coating her voice. Tousled hair and rosy-pink cheeks were not typical side-effects of a vigorous study session.

Automatically defensive, Ginny straightened up. "I have!"

"And where were you studying?" Hermione challenged knowingly.

Ginny's smirk was a mile long. "Broom closet on the fourth-corridor."

"Thought so," Hermione said with a begrudging smile. "Although I wouldn't go there as frequently if I were you--Ron knows about it."

"Ooo--thanks," Ginny said with a grimace as she imagined Ron bursting in on her and Harry.

Hermione bit her lip lightly as she thought about the most discreet way she could phrase this. "Just don't get distracted from your examinations," she warned lightly as she pulled out a quill to scribble a note for herself on a spare bit of parchment, deciding that this would be the best approach. Lecturing a Weasley never worked well in the past.

"I won't," Ginny said airily, sliding down in the chair so her head was resting against the backrest while she stared up at the ceiling again, replaying the past half-hour in the broom closet again. She actually shivered a little in delight. "He's wonderful."

"I'm aware," Hermione replied with an earnest smile. She couldn't help it. Ginny's joy was contagious. She'd never seen her friend so happy. She'd never seen Harry this happy either. Hermione's smile grew even wider. Good God, she'd never seen Harry this happy. Harry had been walking around for weeks with the look he had whenever he flew on his Firebolt or talked to Sirius or heard stories about his parents. It was so glorious to see, especially after the past two years. Harry had been so horribly scarred by the night of the third task and now, for the first time, Hermione thought he was really moving past it. He was finally leaving the night in the graveyard behind him and it was all thanks to a young redheaded girl named Ginny.

Ginny drifted off into a daydream and let out a giggle that was so unlike her. "He's so wonderful," she repeated once again, her voice softer and more earnest.

So much rested in those three words. You could see it in her eyes. Now it was Hermione's turn to prop her chin in her hand and gaze at Ginny. It was truly a beautiful sight to behold a girl who was so in love. And yes, Hermione couldn't deny that a little part of her was jealous that Harry had managed to get here with Ginny before Ron had with her, but whenever she felt that way, she just reminded herself of what Ginny had done for Harry. She saved him. Hermione knew she had. Harry would be saved by loving Ginny Weasley. But being a typical boy, he just didn't know it yet. In time, he would come to see just how much Ginny meant to him.

One finger thoughtfully moved to twirl one of her curls. She hoped she could be that to Ron one day. As much as she wanted to be loved and be taken care of, ultimately, above all other things, she wanted to save someone. She wanted to be so selfless and caring that she would give up everything for one boy. She wanted to be an angel and she wanted to be that to Ron. Ginny was going to be that to Harry--but would she be that to Ron? She loved him, that was certain, but how much did she love him?

Hermione knew she could be selfish. She knew she could vindictive and domineering and bossy and become so wrapped up in books and rules and school that she forgot about what was really important. She knew her faults all too well. But Ron had been teaching her how to work through them. Ron taught her what was really important. Ron had already saved her. He had saved her from becoming someone like Dolores Umbridge who was so structured by the rules that she would use an Unforgivable Curse to extract information from a fifteen year old boy or someone like Percy who was so ambitious and structured that he would deny his own family to follow his political allegiances simply because he thought that was how he could gain power. Ron and Harry had saved more than her life the night they had burst into a girls' bathroom, stuck a wand up a troll's nose, and knocked him out with a well-placed Levitation spell. They saved her from herself. And Hermione was at a point that she wanted to return the favor.

She had returned it to Harry by subtly helping him and Ginny find each other, but Ron was vastly more complicated as she had to contend with her undying love for him. As glorious as it was, it tended to get in the way at times. Distractedly, she moved her hand from her hair to fiddle with the locket she had received for her sixteenth birthday. This was a prime example how the topic of her and Ron tended to get in the way: here she was with Ginny and what was she thinking about? Ron. It was always Ron.

With a small exhale, Hermione glanced at her watch and saw that the library would be closing in less than twenty minutes. Her concentration was shot anyway so Hermione stood up and started gathering up the newspapers. She wasn't allowed to check them out, so the search for the Half-Blood Prince would have to wait until tomorrow. Remembering an important promise she had made to herself about the value of family, Hermione smiled at Ginny. "Want to go play Exploding Snap with the boys for a bit?"

"Yes." Ginny enthusiastically got to her feet so she could help Hermione put away her stuff. "I wasn't about to get much studying done anyway," she confessed with a sheepish smile.

"Hmm," Hermione said disinterestedly as she led Ginny over to the shelves where the papers belonged. In spite of what she had just been thinking about, Hermione couldn't help making a mental note to herself that if Ginny's distraction about O.W.L.s lasted much longer, she was going to have to have a word with Harry about Ginny's priorities.

**

Hermione ended up having to have that conversation with Harry. Several times. As O.W.L.s drew closer and Ginny and Harry continued to have frequent rendezvous out by the lake, in the common room, in the library, in the Great Hall, in another more discreet broom closet, Hermione ended up becoming a bit frustrated with the couple. They couldn't very well get married and have a beautiful life together if Ginny flunked out of school.

Harry would look appropriately abashed whenever Hermione would bring up the subject, but apparently he would forget about those conversations whenever Ginny smiled at him. Hermione then had tried broaching the subject with Ginny, telling her how vital O.W.L.s were to her academic career, but Ginny would only laugh and tell Hermione that she was indeed studying and to lighten up and enjoy the summer sunshine while it lasted.

Ron on the other hand was the only one who ended up being somewhat annoyed by her constant lectures. For someone who claimed that he wasn't happy with his sister dating his best friend, he was very protective; Hermione had even had to break up a fight between Ron and Michael Corner who had loudly boasted of bagging Ginny Weasley before the famous Harry Potter. His interference would obviously cause a row, but tonight, as Ron put his foot where it didn't belong again, Hermione was ready for it.

She was on the sofa next to Harry, having just finished reminding him again not to distract Ginny. Ginny had just gone up to bed for the evening--in fact, they were the only three left in the room--and once Ginny had left, she had immediately turned to reproach Harry. She was a bit tired and strained from searching again for further information about Horcruxes and the Princes with no success, so she was a bit shorter than usual. Harry had looked much less abashed this time, actually looking like he was about to make a nasty comment of his own, but Ron had jumped in to tell Hermione to lay off. He was standing behind them after having invented a game with himself of tossing his crumpled and ruined Defense essay high in the air across the common room so he would have to race over to catch it before it hit the ground. The parchment hadn't touched the floor for over forty-five minutes, as Ron had repeatedly reported to them, much to Hermione's amusement. It was really lovely how easily Ron was amused.

Since he was behind her, Hermione twisted around on the sofa, folding her arms over the back of the couch and resting her head on top of it. "Ron?" she asked with a wicked smile. "Where exactly is that tattoo of yours again?"

Ron immediately scowled as Harry poorly hid his bark of laughter with a cough. "Shut it."

"A Pygmy Puff, was it?" Hermione continued with wide, completely innocent eyes.

"Hermione."

"I know I would really like to see it." Hermione turned to appeal to Harry. "Would you?"

Harry was looking more and more amused by the second. He gleefully shifted his position so he was looking directly at Ron. "Oh yeah. Let's see it."

"I don't have a tattoo," Ron denied.

"See, I don't believe you," Hermione pointed at his flaming red ears. "You wouldn't be this embarrassed if you didn't have it."

"It's true," Harry supplied helpfully.

"It's all right, you know," Hermione carried on, enjoying herself immensely.

She hadn't been this openly antagonistic to Ron in a good, long time and she loved it. "A Pygmy Puff may not be as macho as Harry's Horntail, but I'm sure it's just lovely. And I think it suits you."

Harry had stopped even trying to hide his mirth. Ron just glowered straight at Hermione and she held his gaze with her head high. There was something thrilling about not knowing what he was going to do or say next so all she could do was look him in the eye and wait, poised and ready to do anything to ensure that she won in whatever challenge he was about to set for her.

After a ten second standstill in which Ron just looked at Hermione, one corner of his lip twitching in spite of himself, he finally opened his mouth to speak. But the second before he could, Hermione was talking again. "A bit annoying when people butt into your business, isn't it?"

Another bark of surprised laughter exploded out of Harry as he leaned his head back and just snickered in complete amusement. He had been laughing a lot like that ever since he and Ginny had gotten together. "Didn't see that coming," he chuckled under his breath.

For a moment, all Ron could do was just stare at her. He, who knew every step to Hermione's rowing process, hadn't seen that coming either. She had caught him completely off guard. He loved that about her.

But he could catch her off guard too. Without any warning, the ball of parchment was flying straight at her face. Hermione had to duck to the side to avoid it so she fell into the cushions of the couch, narrowly avoiding Harry who fell backwards off the sofa to catch the ball before it hit the floor. With his Seeker skills, it was as simple as blinking. The parchment safe in his hand, Harry remained with his torso on the floor, his legs still draped over the couch, still laughing heartily. Hermione pushed herself up, her hair in disarray as she gave Ron a dirty look. Ron just cocked his eyebrows in triumph.

"Didn't see that coming, did you?"

Before Hermione could retort, Harry had retaliated, twisting lithely up so he could hurl the parchment back at Ron who fumbled to catch it. Once he did, it was shooting back towards Hermione and an impromptu, uncharacteristic game of simple fun sprang up between the trio that left all of them laughing uncontrollably and lying on the floor in satisfied exhaustion.

And looking back years later, as much it broke her heart with bittersweet nostalgia, Hermione Granger came to realize that that silly game was the perfect way to end the last night the three of them would ever have of safety here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.