Rating:
PG-13
House:
Schnoogle
Characters:
Hermione Granger
Genres:
General Romance
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix Quidditch Through the Ages Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
Stats:
Published: 01/06/2004
Updated: 03/04/2004
Words: 119,154
Chapters: 16
Hits: 98,357

Hermione Granger and the Order of the Phoenix

Ann Margaret

Story Summary:
Thought that Harry and Cho was the only romance occurring at Hogwarts during OotP? The fifth book from Hermione's POV--what really happened in those prefect meetings; what happened during the summer alone with Ron? Could there be another boy in the picture besides Ron or Viktor? Explore Hermione's budding relationship with Ron Weasley, flirtations with prefects and one Zacharias Smith, and could Malfoy possibly be interested in her? Okay, maybe not, but a great story for those R/H shippers out there who didn't get enough in the real OotP. (And sorry I couldn't think of a more original title! =) )

Chapter 03

Chapter Summary:
And we're off to Hogwarts! Hermione runs into Malfoy, worries about Harry, and makes a pact with Ron. And her first day back doesn't go any better than Harry's...
Posted:
01/15/2004
Hits:
6,239
Author's Note:
Thanks for all the reviews! You guys are the best! Hope you enjoy this chapter too!

But then again, maybe she hadn't really accomplished her goal from last night. Ron didn't seem very excited at all to be going to the prefect's meeting on the way to Hogwarts. She, on the other hand, was quite interested in seeing who the new appointments were (please, please, not Malfoy) and learning about their duties. She didn't understand why Ron was so reluctant.

That is, until they got on the train, and Harry turned to look at them expectantly.

"Shall we go and find a compartment then?" Harry asked her and Ron.

Hermione reflexively glanced at Ron, who was looking right back at her.

"Er," said Ron.

It appeared that Ron wasn't coherent enough to tell Harry about their prefect meeting, so it was up to her. And from the change in expression on Harry's face, Hermione now was rather dreading it. So that was why Ron was not looking forward to this.

"We're--well--Ron and I are supposed to go into the prefect carriage," Hermione said awkwardly.

There was a flash of unreadable emotion on Harry's face, making her feel even guiltier. She glanced over at Ron, hoping he'd jump in now that she had the most difficult part out, but Ron appeared to have a sudden fascination with his fingernails. She fought the urge to sigh--honestly!

"Oh," said Harry. "Right. Fine."

But Hermione could tell that Harry really wasn't fine so she tried her best to appease him. "I don't think we'll have to stay there all journey," said Hermione quickly. "Our letters said we just get instructions from the Head Boy and Girl and then patrol the corridors from time to time."

"Fine," said Harry again. "Well, I--I might see you later, then."

"Yeah, definitely," Ron finally found the ability to speak as he looked anxiously at Harry. "It's a pain having to go down there, I'd rather--but we have to--I mean, I'm not enjoying it, I'm not Percy."

Hermione fought the incredible to urge to whack Ron across the back of his head. Did he honestly think that saying that was going to help? All he was doing was sounding like an idiot

"I know you're not," said Harry, his eyes losing the hardness that had developed when she had mentioned the prefect meeting. And then he actually grinned.

Well, son of a gun, Hermione thought in shock as she and Ron began to drag their belongings towards the prefect carriage, Ron did know what to say.

"Come on," Hermione heard Ginny say to Harry, "If we get a move on, we'll be able to save them places."

Hermione made a mental note to thank Ginny when she returned from the meeting.

She frowned though when she caught the strangely lost look on Ron's face. "What's wrong?"

Ron jumped slightly. "It--nothing," he muttered. He cast her a sideways look, and she simply looked back at him. "I--I've just never rode the train without Harry,"

Now she had to fight the incredible urge to give Ron a big hug. It wasn't often that Ron was so sweet, and sympathetic, and...oh God, she was starting up again, she had to stop this.

"We'll see him soon," Hermione reassured him. "The meeting won't take too long."

"Yeah," Ron said thickly, tugging his trunk even harder. He never liked when they talked about feelings or anything emotional like that. Hermione bit back a sigh--was he ever going to grow up?

"Need any help, Weasley? I can't imagine your trunk is that heavy," a horribly familiar drawl taunted from behind them, "I mean, how much can your family really afford?"

Ron dropped his trunk and instantly went for his wand.

Nope, it didn't look like Ron had grown up at all.

She quickly grabbed his arm and pulled it down before he could grab it. "Don't," she warned him quietly, "Let's just get out of here." Ron's eyes slid over to her, body still rigid with tension. Hermione squeezed him arm lightly. "Please?"

"As touching as this is," Malfoy said flatly, "Do you mind moving your filthy little self out of the way, Granger? I've got a meeting to get to." He stuck out his chest proudly; his shiny prefects badge was all ready pinned to his jumper.

"What idiot made you a prefect?" Ron demanded angrily, jaw dropping with disgust.

"Dumbledore selects them personally, thanks for asking, Weasel," Malfoy informed him with his hateful air.

"I didn't sign on to this to put up with this git!" Ron wheeled around on Hermione.

"I didn't appoint him!" Hermione reminded him. "Just ignore him, we don't want to be late."

"Weasley, you mean to tell me that you are the new Gryffindor prefect!" Malfoy let out a sarcastic laugh. "What happened to Golden Boy Potter? Dementors scare him?"

Hermione froze. "How do you know about that, Malfoy?" she demanded. "That's not exactly common knowledge."

Malfoy ignored her and continued to torment Ron. "How does it feel to actually be doing something without Potter hanging over you? I'm shocked you aren't scared of your own shadow without him to protect you."

Ron's ears were glowing bright red, so Hermione jumped in again. "I wouldn't be talking about friends hanging around you, Malfoy," she told him, "Where are your goons for once?" She tilted her head to the side, pretending to look curious, "How much did it cost to hire those two to be your friends? About as much as your father paid to make you a prefect?"

She hit a nerve, and all three of them knew it. She glared at Malfoy triumphantly, Ron started to laugh, and Malfoy's cheeks were slowly turning pink, a sure sign that he was getting really angry.

"Watch your tongue, Granger," Malfoy spat out at her, "You don't want to hear what I think of your appointment to prefect status."

Ron's laughter abruptly died, and Hermione didn't even have to look at him to know that he was going for his wand again. She grabbed his arm once again. "Come on, Ron," she said with as much dignity as she could muster, "We don't want to be late."

But they all ready were. A blonde haired girl Hermione didn't know stuck her head out of the far compartment and gave the three of them a reproachful look. "Are you the new prefects?"

"Yes," Hermione said quickly, renewing her struggle to drag her trunk into the compartment.

"You'll have time to socialize after the meeting," the girl told the three of them angrily, "You're late."

She mumbled an apology and slid into a vacant seat. She didn't want to cause a scene at her first prefect meeting--how embarrassing. Ron took the seat next to her, ears still a vivid shade of maroon while Malfoy sat across from them, successfully recovering his composure. He was seated next...Hermione fought the urge to groan. Pansy Parkinson. She was almost as bad as Malfoy; Hermione had to put up with the scathing gossip several times in the girls' loos and other places. And now prefects meetings were added to the list--Hermione wondered if she could get through the year without cursing that cow into oblivion.

Hermione forced herself to pay attention as everyone introduced themselves, and she received another parchment of information about her duties. It looked as though she and Ron would be in charge of the younger students--leading them to the dormitories, getting them situated in the new environment, giving them directions, etc. They would also help patrol the train and the corridors, and help teachers in an emergency or special occasion.

She was quite surprised to find that nearly an hour had passed before they were released. She tried her best to steer Ron away from Malfoy, but he and Pansy Parkinson positioned themselves behind her and Ron, speaking rather loudly.

"Well, Father told me what to expect, of course," Malfoy told Pansy pompously, "He most displeased to hear about the lowering of prefect standards, however."

Hermione knew what was coming, and by the tensing of Ron's shoulders, he did too. Pansy, on the other hand, had the brain capacity of a flobberworm. "Whatever do you mean, Draco?" she asked innocently.

Malfoy's gray eyes were now boring into the back of Hermione's head. "Mudbloods," he sneered, "and Muggle-lovers as prefects. It's pathetic."

Hermione did consider for a brief moment letting Ron launch himself at Malfoy, but reminding herself that she was a prefect now, she threw out an arm to block Ron, and threw out the first insult that came to mind.

"Well, Malfoy, Dumbledore's launching a policy of acceptance," she explained, "After all, he's allowing trolls prefect status," She shot a meaningful glance at Pansy before whirling around on her heel.

Hermione was all ready halfway down the corridor before she heard Pansy cry out in outrage. She rolled her eyes. "About time," she muttered to Ron under his breath.

"I swear," Ron told her, still rather worked up over the incident, "next time he bothers you ..."

"Don't," Hermione warned him worriedly, "Don't be getting yourself into trouble. He's not worth that." She fought the urge to glare back at Malfoy again; she could sense that he was watching them. "Just calm down, all right? You don't want Harry to see you like this, do you?"

"No," Ron agreed, closing his eyes briefly and taking a deep breath.

"Now come on," she peered into the next compartment, hoping to catch a glimpse of Harry. "Let's find him, and forget all about Malfoy."

"Yeah," Ron agreed. They had to go all the way to the very last compartment before spotting Harry. He was sitting with Ginny, Neville Longbottom, and a fourth-year Ravenclaw that Hermione had forgotten the name of. "I'm starving," said Ron. He plopped down next to Harry after stowing his luggage and grabbing a Chocolate Frog. He closed his eyes, and Hermione could tell he was still trying to settle down.

Ginny caught her brother's behavior, and quickly shot Hermione a questioning look. A little disgruntled that she had to explain why she and Ron were in a bad mood and still very disgruntled over Malfoy, Hermione took her seat. "Well, there are two fifth-year prefects from each House. Boy and girl from each."

"And guess who's a Slytherin prefect?" said Ron, still with his eyes closed.

"Malfoy," replied Harry at once. Hermione could tell that he had been dreading that possibility. And Malfoy was almost the top of their year--well, almost, Hermione reminded herself proudly, the only one he hasn't beaten is you.

"'Course," said Ron bitterly, shoving more chocolate into his mouth and grabbing some more.

"And that complete cow Pansy Parkinson," said Hermione rather viciously. She usually wasn't so scathing, but she had heard Pansy say some really cruel things about her. She had to put up with enough taunting from Malfoy--Pansy was just the straw that broke the camel's back. But you never blame the camel; you always blame that damned extra bit of straw. Or in Hermione's case, she blamed both. "How she got to be a prefect when she's thicker than a concussed troll..."

"Who's Hufflepuff?" Harry cut in.

"Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott," said Ron thickly.

"And Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil for Ravenclaw," said Hermione. She shot a glance over at Ginny, who looked a little disappointed. Michael Corner had really hoped to be made a prefect.

"You went to the Yule Ball with Padma Patil," the odd girl spoke up.

Everyone turned to look at her, who was staring at Ron without blinking in a way that was making Hermione rather uncomfortable for two reasons. One: she didn't like to be reminded of the Yule Ball. Two: she didn't like any girl looking at Ron with such fascination.

"Yeah, I know I did," Ron said, looking mildly surprised.

"She didn't enjoy it very much," the girl informed him, "She doesn't think you treated her very well, because you wouldn't dance with her. I don't think I'd have minded," she added thoughtfully, "I don't like dancing very much."

For some reason, Hermione's stomach jolted at this statement. Did this girl just say that she wouldn't have minded going to the ball with Ron? Her Ron? Well, he's not your Ron, she told herself, he can go with any girl he likes...oh for goodness sakes, there isn't even another ball coming up so don't get your knickers all in a twist!

Luckily, Ron distracted her from this momentarily lapse of jealousy. "...and we can give out punishments if people are misbehaving. I can't wait to get Crabbe and Goyle for something..."

"You're not supposed to abuse your position, Ron!" said Hermione sharply. She knew he was only saying it because he had just had a run-in with that prat, but still. It wasn't right to break the rules for personal vendetta. Even if they did deserve it.

"Yeah, right, because Malfoy won't abuse it at all," said Ron sarcastically.

"So you're going to descend to his level?" Hermione accused, getting angry at Ron's pettiness. Ron was such a better person than Malfoy and she hated that he was acting like this. He was so much better than this!

"No, I'm just going to make sure I get his mates before he gets mine." Ron's eyes met hers, and she knew he was referring to the statement he had made to her out in the corridor. He was still planning on retaliating the next time Malfoy called her a Mudblood. And she couldn't let him do that--he'd get into so much trouble, and it would be because he was defending her. And granted, she did love it whenever he protected her like that, but she couldn't let him do it.

"For heaven's sake, Ron..." she began, hoping if she used logic and reason, he'd be able to see how wrong it would be to act like that.

"I'll make Goyle do lines, it'll kill him, he hates writing," said Ron happily. He lowered his voice and screwed up his face in feigned, painful concentration. "I... must...not...look...like...a...baboon's...backside...."

Hermione couldn't help bursting out into laughter--Ron really was very funny. In fact, he was the only one who could really get her to laugh. Even though it was for the wrong reasons, it felt so good to laugh like that again.

Her laughter died slightly though when the odd girl laughed so loud that she woke Hedwig up and Crookshanks started hissing.

"That was funny!"

Ron saved Hermione from another irrational burst of jealousy once again as he turned towards the rest of them, completely confused. The expression on his face was priceless, and she laughed harder than ever. She gasped for breath as she wrapped her arm around her now almost painful stomach. She hadn't laughed like that in ages.

She sobered when she saw Harry grab the magazine the girl had dropped and ask the girl if he could look at it. Hermione tilted her head so she could see the cover and almost tutted with disapproval--it was The Quibbler, which was only one of the trashiest wizarding magazines in publication. Harry read it with interest, which quite surprised Hermione. She had thought Harry was much more sensible than that.

Everyone had finally stopped laughing when Harry closed the magazine. Ron finally noticed that his best friend was reading it and inquired about it.

"Of course not," Hermione answered for Harry, not wanting to hear if he really did find something interesting. "The Quibbler's rubbish, everyone knows that."

"Excuse me," the girl said; her voice sounded quite different. It sounded, well, normal. Before she had spoke with this odd, translucent quality, as if she wasn't of this earth. Now she sounded down-to-earth, and sensible, making Hermione like her a bit better. "My father's the editor."

Oh bugger.

She was so embarrassed that she had trouble thinking of something to say to rectify the situation. Ginny was giving her a very reproachful look, reminding Hermione of where she had met the girl. Ginny had introduced her a while ago, Luna Lovegood was her name. And James Lovegood owned The Quibbler.

"I--oh," said Hermione finally, "Well...it's got some interesting...I mean, it's quite..."

"I'll have it back, thank you," said Luna coldly, and she grabbed it straight out of Harry's hands. Hermione opened her mouth to say something more kinder, but that's when the compartment door opened, and she was plagued with this misfortune of seeing Draco Malfoy again, this time accompanied by Crabbe and Goyle.

"What?" Harry snapped straight away. Hermione blinked with surprise; Harry wasn't usually the aggressive one. She exchanged a glance with Ron, who looked equally as dumbfounded.

"Manners, Potter, or I'll have to give you a detention," drawled Malfoy, "You see, I, unlike you, have been made a prefect, which means that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments."

"Yeah," said Harry, "but you, unlike me, are a git, so get out and leave us alone."

Hermione laughed again--she never thought it would be so much fun to see Malfoy's lip curl like that. Ron and the others joined in.

"Tell me, how does it feel being second-best to Weasley, Potter?" Malfoy continued.

That was uncalled for. Harry felt bad enough about not being made prefect, and Ron didn't needed to be reminded that he was widely viewed as Harry's sidekick. Ron needed to learn to have confidence, which was probably his biggest fault. Well, not really, there was that temper...

Not now! Hermione quickly opened her mouth before Harry and Ron could do something stupid, and said once again the first thing that popped into her head.

"Shut up, Malfoy," said Hermione sharply.

Oh, really, brilliant, Hermione. You are the clever one, after all.

"I seem to have touched a nerve," said Malfoy, smirking, "Well, just watch yourself, Potter, because I'll be dogging your footsteps in case you step out of line."

Malfoy had touched another nerve--a big one. Hermione jumped to her feet. How could Malfoy possibly know? He could spill the beans right then and there, to anyone, to his father...

"Get out!" Hermione ordered angrily, unsure what else to do. She couldn't really interrogate him about it right in front Neville, Crabbe, Goyle, and Luna.

She slammed the door behind the three Slytherins, ignoring the malicious glare Malfoy gave her before the door mercifully obscured her vision of him. He couldn't--he wouldn't--

She looked at Harry and she could tell that the same horrifying thought was racing through his mind.

Oh yes he would.

**

Hermione was still rather concerned about Malfoy's knowledge of Sirius, so when she stepped off the train and spotted him, she just reacted. She strode over, trying to think of a reason to approach him, but luckily, he did it for her. Malfoy reached out a long foot and stuck it directly in the path of a small first-year who was trying to reach...Professor Grubbly-Plank? Hermione froze for a second--where on earth was Hagrid?

"Watch yourself!" Malfoy snapped to the first-year. "Do you realize who I am?"

"N--n--no," the small girl said in an even smaller voice as she quivered in fear. Malfoy had to be over a foot taller than her, and Crabbe and Goyle had to be at least twice as tall as the poor girl.

"I am a prefect," Malfoy informed her, "And you by the smell of it," he sniffed her disdainfully, "are a Mudblood, aren't you?"

"A--a--what?" the girl asked in confusion.

"Is there a problem here?" Hermione stepped in between the girl and Malfoy, eyes blazing in anger. It was one thing to call her a Mudblood--she was used to it, she could take it. But to submit a child on her first day of school in an unknown world was downright cruel. She looked over her shoulder and smiled at the new student. "Go on and see Professor Grubbly-Plank, she'll show you where to go."

"Thanks," the girl scrambled away as fast as her legs could carry her.

"Fancy yourself the defender of the weak, Granger?" Malfoy taunted.

Hermione's comforting smile quickly became a scowl. "I wouldn't abuse your position like that again, Malfoy, or else I'll go straight to McGonagall." She took a step forward and lowered her voice so only he heard her. "And I'd keep your mouth shut about other things too."

"Oh, really?" Malfoy sneered. "And why should I?"

Hermione simply shrugged. "Do you really want to know what I'd do?"

Okay, she had no idea what to threaten Malfoy with. But she had to do something. If Lucius Malfoy knew about Sirius...

Malfoy appraised her for a long second before shoving past her, beckoning to Crabbe and Goyle. Hermione let them pass before fighting her way through the crowd, searching for Harry or Ron. Her heart was beating a tad faster than normal--it was just something about the way Malfoy looked at her that frightened her more than she cared to admit. After all, she knew that he actually wanted her dead; he had said so to Harry and Ron. And as much as she despised the bastard, she certainly wouldn't wish him dead. Such hatred in a boy as young as Malfoy was frightening, and Hermione really didn't like being at the tail end of that anger.

Her dark thoughts about Malfoy faded into anger when she saw them, now joined by Pansy Parkinson and some other Slytherins, push some young students out of the way so they could get into a carriage. Her eyes then caught on Ron's head of red hair, and she made her way towards them, heart still beating fast, still out of breath, and still outraged.

"Malfoy was being absolutely foul to a first year back there, I swear I'm going to report him, he's only had his badge three minutes and he's using it to bully people worse than ever..." she trailed off when she realized that Harry wasn't carrying Crookshanks. "Where's Crookshanks?"

"Ginny's got him," said Harry. "There she is..."

Hermione turned and smiled when she saw her squirming cat in Ginny's arms. Ginny gave her a quick wink, giving Hermione a clue about where Ginny had just been.

"Thanks," said Hermione, relieving Ginny of the cat. "Come on, let's get a carriage together before they all fill up..."

Ron called something after her, but Hermione for once didn't listen to him. Ginny practically skipped along side of her as they headed towards the nearest empty carriage.

"I just saw him," Ginny whispered excitedly.

Hermione smiled. "And?"

Ginny blushed bright pink. "He still wants to go out."

"That's great!" Hermione told her friend as they climbed into a carriage and took a seat.

"We're going into Hogsmeade together," Ginny continued, "And we're going to meet in the library day after tomorrow."

"To study?" Hermione asked in surprise. Michael and Ginny were in different years; how on earth would they study together if their lessons were different?

"Hermione," Ginny said with a roll of her eyes, "I don't think we'll be doing too much studying."

Now it was Hermione's turn to blush. "Oh." She wasn't normally so naïve, but honestly, in the library, one should be studying. She quickly changed the subject to hide her embarrassment. "Where did Harry and Ron get to?"

"Ron had to wait to get Pig," Ginny explained, leaning forward to peer out the window. "Luna took him for us; they're coming now."

Hermione couldn't suppress a frown when she saw the three making their way to the carriage; why was this Luna girl suddenly following them around? And why was she taking Pig for Ron?

"You know, you weren't very nice to her," Ginny said reproachfully.

"I know," Hermione said, but she didn't elaborate. She couldn't help that she didn't really like this girl--she was just so odd.

She didn't have time to think about it any further, since Ron entered the carriage with Pig, looking utterly bewildered. She looked at him questioningly, but he shook his head--Luna and Harry had just followed him in. Ron sat down across from her, and from the look he shot her, she knew he'd tell her later.

Well, he'd better.

**

"You think Harry's seeing things?"

"I don't know," Ron said exasperatedly. "He seemed so dead certain that these horse things were pulling the carriages to the castle. But I didn't see a thing--did you?"

"No, I didn't," Hermione replied, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she glanced around to make sure no one could hear. She and Ron were walking the new first-years to the dormitories, and although she knew she should be orienting the new students, this was definitely much more important. Ron also glanced back at the twenty or so first-years behind them apprehensively, and she would have laughed if it was anything but funny. Normally, she would have been rather perplexed at why Ron was being so cautious and almost paranoid, but not now: there were enough people who thought Harry was an insane liar with the rubbish the Prophet was printing. They didn't need to hear that not only did he believe that You-Know-Who was back and he could understand snakes, but he also saw horses.

Wait a minute...

"Horse things, you said?" Hermione clarified quickly, mind automatically flipping to page 42 of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. "Did he say what they looked like?"

"Nope, why?"

"There is a breed of Winged Horses called Thestrals," Hermione explained, brow furrowed. Her eyes glazed over as they always did whenever she was recalling a lesson or book or reliving a moment. She barely heard her own voice, so she was so absorbed in her musings. "They're very rare, but I wonder..."

"Hermione, what are you going on about?" Ron snapped, jolting her back to reality. She started slightly, and frowned at Ron. He didn't have to get so snappy at her for thinking. He had asked for her help.

"Thestrals have the power of invisibility," she lectured with only a trace of the impatience she felt towards him at the moment, "Only certain wizards can see them. We know that Harry has special abilities; maybe this is one of them."

"Yeah, but he's never said anything before," Ron reminded her, "Why now?"

Hermione frowned; she hadn't thought about that. "I don't know--we haven't learned about thestrals yet in class, and Scamander doesn't go into many details about them. Maybe I can look in another one of my books."

"Good," Ron glanced backwards again. "And...do you mind not telling Harry that I told you?"

"I think that's a good idea," Hermione agreed. Harry would have told her if he wanted her to know--it actually hurt a little that he didn't tell her, but she couldn't dwell on that now. She needed to find out if he did indeed see a thestral; it certainly would make sense that there was an actual creature pulling the carriages--she had always wondered about that; Hogwarts: A History had never mentioned how the students got to the castle from the Hogsmeade station.

She started slightly when she abruptly realized that they were already at the portrait hole. She turned back to the students and smiled at them. "This is the Fat Lady," she told them, "She's the guardian of our tower, and you won't be let in unless you say the password, so mind that you remember it." Hermione was about to give the Fat Lady, who was beaming widely at the new students, the password when the first-years tittered with laughter quite unexpectedly. Automatically, she knew what they were laughing at. She gave Ron a stern look. "Whatever you did, don't do it again," she told him sternly. Ron gave her a mock-innocent look, making the first-years to giggle even louder. Hermione suppressed a sigh; honestly, Ron better not expect to undermine her authority like this and make her appear to be a less of an authority figure by ridiculing her behind her back. "Ron," she said simply, giving him one of her toughest glares. Ron relented, dropping his gaze and looking somewhat abashed, and the first-years laughed the loudest yet. Hermione grinned, and returned her attention to the portrait. "Mimbulus mimbletonia," she said to the Fat Lady swiftly but clearly so the students could remember and pronounce it correctly.

"So do you really think this Umbridge woman is going to be trouble for us?" Ron asked her while stepping through the portrait hole, probably trying to distract her and make her forget that she was angry with him.

"Yes, I do." Hermione said worriedly. She had almost forgotten about the disturbing speech her new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had given during the Welcome Feast in her worry about Harry. But now, it came rushing back. If the Ministry started interfering, and the Ministry didn't believe that You-Know-Who was back...well, it wouldn't only be bad for Harry--everyone would suffer the consequences. Dumbledore was the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of, and if he was censored or restricted in any way...

She shook her head slightly. She couldn't think about that now--she had prefect duties to worry about it. "Welcome to the common room," she said pleasantly. "Girls, if you would follow me, please, I'll show you your dormitory."

"Rest of you lot, follow me," Ron finally spoke up, and he looked rather surprised that the boys instantly obeyed. Hermione suppressed a smile; Ron wasn't used to having his orders followed, but she could tell he rather liked it. She gave him a wave goodnight before opening the doors to the girls' dormitory and holding it open for the ten new girls.

"Up the stairs," Hermione told them, "First door to your left at the top of the stairs."

"Is that your boyfriend?" one blonde girl asked her hopefully.

"Ron?" Hermione replied, unconsciously tucking her hair behind one ear and straightening up slightly. "No, we're just good friends."

"Oh," the girl looked disappointed.

"Here we are," Hermione led the girls into their new room, and they scrambled to their new beds. "Classes start tomorrow morning at nine o'clock sharp, so I expect you all to get a good night's sleep. If you need anything, just come get me. I'm in the dormitory at the very top, and my name's Hermione, ok?" She smiled them and briskly walked out.

"I told you he's not her boyfriend," Hermione heard one first-year say as she shut the door.

"Well," the little blonde sighed, "they certainly act like it. They argue just like my mum and dad."

Hermione let out a soft little laugh. Yes, she and Ron certainly did argue a lot; she honestly didn't know why they did--it just felt right, for some reason. But when they weren't arguing, Ron was the best friend a girl could have. Sometimes, in her darker moments, she felt that both of her best friends didn't appreciate her very much, and perhaps didn't even care for her at all. Harry and Ron had such a strong, obvious bond; a bond between best friends that Hermione could never ever break. Not that she wanted; heavens, no. Harry needed all the friends he could get right now. The thing was she was his friend. It wouldn't kill him to act like one every now and then. But Ron--Ron always did something to let her know that he cared. Harry typically did too, but it was just that...it was just that he hadn't in a while. But Ron did, and if there was one person in the world she wanted to care for her, it was Ron Weasley. And he did--even a first-year could see it, it was that obvious. That thought stayed with her as she wandered into her dormitory, a smile playing at her lips. This wasn't that unusual--she often thought about Ron in such a positive light in the sanctuary of her dormitory, away from prying eyes that could piece together why she was smiling in such an un-Hermione-like way.

That smile quickly faded though when she realized that Lavender was staring at her. "What?" she said hastily, heading over to her bed to arrange her things before going to bed. She hoped Lavender wouldn't interrogate about where she was--she could figure it out. Lavender wasn't the brightest girl, but she had an uncanny sense for gossip and relationships. It was a miracle that she hadn't uncovered Hermione's feelings for Ron all ready.

"Did Harry tell you what really happened that night?" Lavender asked bluntly.

Parvati, who had been brushing her hair, froze in mid-stroke. Hermione's grip on the books she was unloading tightened as she turned to look at the blonde girl seated on her bed. Lavender stared back at her expectantly.

"Yes, he did," Hermione said with as much dignity as she could manage, "But it isn't my place to tell you about it. If you would like to know, I suggest you ask him yourself, although I doubt he'd tell you."

"So you don't know if he's telling the truth about this You-Know-Who rubbish?"

Hermione almost threw the books she was gripping on her bed but managed to contain herself. She did have to silently count to five before continuing to speak to Lavender. "Actually, I do," she said quietly, but Hermione could hear her voice shaking. "Harry wouldn't lie about something like that."

"Would he?" Lavender said under her breath as she turned away from Hermione, but Hermione heard her. Lavender's eyes widened as the three books Hermione was clutching were abruptly slammed down onto the mattress. Hermione's hands flew to her hips, itching to go for her wand. She was just so sick of everyone being so ridiculous about this situation. It made no sense that Harry would lie about this--did they honestly think he wanted the all-powerful sorcerer who killed his parents to return to full power? It didn't help that the media was polluting everyone's thoughts about this mess, and she was all ready very worried about Harry, and it didn't help that mindless twits like Lavender were questioning her about this.

And when Hermione got angry, her ability to invent a snappy comeback vanished. "Lavender, why don't you just keep your big fat mouth shut about Harry?" she snapped. "He doesn't need this right now, and I don't either, so kindly keep your thoughts to yourself!" Her eyes wandered over to Parvati. "That goes for you too."

Parvati held up her hands in mock-surrender. "Fine with me."

Hermione focused again on Lavender, who was looking rather abashed. "I--I was just asking!" she defended herself.

Hermione didn't respond, but she just climbed into bed, snapping the hangings shut around her, not caring that she hadn't changed into her pajamas. She could do that later, after everyone else had fallen asleep. She needed to use the time to calm down. It wasn't like her to bark at her roommates like that--well, that wasn't exactly true. She had told them to shut up on several occasions, whenever they gossiped too loudly while she was trying to study or sleep, or whenever they interrogated her about Viktor Krum. But this--this was different. She had almost pulled her wand on them for asking a question. Hermione knew that if she hadn't been Harry's best friend, she would also be a bit skeptical about his story--it was a little far-fetched. But all you really had to do was take one look at Harry's face, and you knew he wasn't lying. The worry about the new situation of the world was weighing heavily down on him, and she was concerned that he would snap and lose control completely. After all, he had already been snapping at her and Ron. Well, her more than Ron, but that didn't matter. Harry had too many enemies--he couldn't afford to pull away from the friends he did have like this. He had so much to contend with right now...

That reminded her. Hermione glanced over at the couple of books she had thrown down on her bed in disgust and noted with surprise that one of them happened to be a book about magical creatures. She opened it, and after a quick glance in the index, she opened it to the appropriate page.

Thestrals: A rare breed of winged horse. Thestrals are invisible to the majority of wizarding folks, but are described by those who have seen them as massive, black, skinny, and rather gaunt-looking. The only people who can see thestrals are those who have witnessed death. It's a common superstition that these creatures bring about bad luck. In actuality, these creatures are in highly intelligent and useful for transportation reasons. For more information, see Winged Horse.

Hermione read the passage rather quickly, and her eyes instantly went back to the sentence that had jumped out at her.

Those who have witnessed death.

That was it. Harry had never seen anyone die before until the night of the third task when Cedric was killed. Now that he had, he could see the thestrals pulling the carriages. As if Harry hadn't enough to contend with. Now he had to see these supposedly odd looking creatures. She sighed and shut her book.

Poor Harry.

**

Poor Harry was, however, asking for it, which irritated Hermione to no end.

She had known in an instant that he was in a foul mood. The darkened look in his eyes had intensified, which made her stomach churn. The Harry she had been blessed to know for four years never looked like this. The idea that an event could alter her best friend so drastically was downright scary, and it gave her another reason why to despise You-Know-Who even more.

So she had asked him what was wrong, and Ron had told her about Seamus not believing Harry. That wasn't that surprising--she had figured with her conversation with Lavender last night that there would be others who shared this ridiculous view. It was obvious that he hadn't taken Seamus' questions very well, so she had mentioned what Lavender had said so he knew to steer clear of her.

And then he had promptly jumped down her throat.

It hurt her feelings more than she cared to admit. He had actually accused her of siding with Lavender, just because she hadn't started ranting and raving about people not believing him. Well, honestly, did he expect the whole world to side with him? Especially since the only people commenting on the situation were the ones who disagreed with him. And if he continued to act like this, he was going to have everyone against him.

So she had told him as calmly as she could that he should stop acting this way towards her and Ron. And although Ron didn't say anything, she did catch the grateful look he shot towards her before she changed the subject. Her attention had then been diverted when Fred and George had arrived, and she had told them not to advertise for their joke products in the common room--honestly, the nerve of those two! But then Fred and George had brought up the severity of the fifth year, making her a great deal nervous about the upcoming year even more.

So all and all, the first morning back at school basically sucked. The only bright part of the morning was when Ron had made that crack about her being so much cleverer than him and Harry. She knew he was just trying to make sure he could copy her notes, but still. It gave her that warm feeling in her stomach.

That warm feeling towards Ron was gone though by the end of break when he had acted so stupidly in front of Cho. Then Potions had been a nightmare since Harry had completely messed up his potion in front of Malfoy. And Snape had been completely unreasonable about the whole thing. Although Harry really didn't care what Snape thought, Hermione could tell by the look on Harry's face as she glanced sideways at him while they settled in for lunch that his morning was going even worse for him.

"That was really unfair," she told him consolingly, "Your potion wasn't nearly as bad as Goyle's, when he put in his flagon the whole thing shattered and set his robes on fire."

"Yeah, well," said Harry, glowering at his plate, "since when has Snape ever been fair to me?"

There was a silence that Hermione used to glance at Ron. There was that bitterness again that worried her so much. She could see that Ron felt the same way, but had no idea what to say next. So she just forged ahead.

"I did think he might be a bit better this year. I mean...you know..." She quickly looked to make sure that no one could overhear her before continuing. "...now he's in the Order and everything."

"Poisonous toadstools don't change their spots," Ron replied. Hermione's jaw almost dropped, but she contained herself; it wouldn't help Ron's self-esteem if he saw how shocked she was that he had made such a perceptive statement. "Anyway, I've always thought Dumbledore was cracked trusting Snape, where's the evidence he's ever really stopped working for You-Know-Who?"

And here we go again, Hermione thought angrily, let the Snape bashing begin. "I think Dumbledore's probably got plenty of evidence, even if he doesn't share it with you, Ron," snapped Hermione. Honestly, why did Ron always act like he knew everything; if Dumbledore trusted Snape that was enough for her, so it should be enough for him.

Ron's mouth opened to argue back, and she steeled herself for yet another verbal warfare that exhausted yet invigorated her at the same time. But Harry spoke first.

"Oh, shut up, the pair of you." Hermione froze, and glared over at Harry. He had a lot of nerve of jumping into the middle of her and Ron's...discussion. "Can't you give it a rest? You're always having a go at each other, it's driving me mad." Without further ado, Harry swept up his schoolbag and left the Great Hall.

She stared after him, feeling worse than ever. She couldn't believe this. It was understandable that Harry would be angry if she wasn't being as supportive as he'd like. It was fine that Harry was acting a little moody and bitter with all he had been through. She could deal with that; she'd accept that. But for him to jump in the middle of her and Ron's argument, that was just...well, rude. And Harry was never rude, Harry was the kindest person she had ever met.

Or at least he used to be.

Hermione sighed and rubbed her eyes wearily to stop them from stinging. She couldn't be crying right here in the middle of the Great Hall. But everything was just such a mess, everything was spiraling out of control, and she couldn't do a damn thing about it. And Hermione hated not being in control. And she hated everything that was wrong with the world right now.

"Hermione?" Ron said awkwardly, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Hermione said quickly, lowering her hands away from her face. She kept her face down, pretending to be fascinated with her shepherd's pie. She didn't want Ron to see her about to cry like this.

"I'm sorry."

Hermione's head jerked up. "What?"

Ron blanched slightly, making Hermione cringe inwardly. He probably noticed that her eyes were rather red. "For yelling at you like that."

She stared at Ron, completely bewildered. "You're apologizing to me?" Ron never apologized to anyone.

Ron's ears were now a brilliant shade of red, and he was looking at his own plate of lunch. "I--I just--thought..."

"Ron, you did nothing wrong!" Hermione cut in. It was rather sweet for Ron to do this, but it wasn't necessary.

"Then why are you--you..." Ron gestured towards her still red eyes.

She sighed again. "Harry."

"Ah," Ron slashed his fork down on his plate and roughly stuck a piece of his pie into his mouth.

"I hate it when he acts like this," she continued, "This isn't like him, at all, Ron. He's never talked to me--to us, like this before. And..." she trailed off, trying to express what about Harry worried her the most. "It's his eyes. They're just so--so empty, and he's..."

"...not Harry," Ron finished, throwing his fork down.

"Yes," Hermione agreed quietly, eyes prickling again. "I hate what this is doing to him, Ron."

"Hey," Ron said quietly, looking unusually stricken. "Don't cry."

Hermione sniffed as hard as she could and blinked several times to dispel the moisture that was threatening to spill out. "I'm not crying," she muttered, ducking her head again.

"He'll get over this," Ron told her, "He's Harry, he has to."

"But what if he doesn't?" Hermione asked, "And I just don't know if I can take him sniping at us all the time." She tossed her hair out of her face impatiently and leaned closer towards Ron. "And I know why he's doing it. And he has a right to be angry with everything that has happening to him. But..." She couldn't look at the pained look on Ron's face anymore, so she dropped her eyes and fiddled with her fork. "I just wish he wouldn't keep taking everything out on us, you know?"

"I know," Ron returned. She could feel his eyes on her as she remained focused on the table in front of her.

"What are we going to do?" she asked him miserably.

Ron remained quiet for a few more minutes. "I'll talk to him," he finally suggested.

Hermione looked up at him, quite surprised he offered to do that. Ron had always taken the policy of appeasement, and didn't like to get in the middle of anyone's business. So for him to willingly volunteer to get smack dab in the middle of Harry's problem was rather big of him. Lord knew she had tried to talk to Harry, and he wouldn't listen. Maybe Ron could get Harry to see reason.

"That might work," she agreed.

"All right," Ron said. He paused, and leaned forward, looking embarrassed, "Er--what should I say?"

Hermione chuckled softly. Honestly, Ron was just so cute sometimes. "Tell him--tell him that it would be nice if he stopped taking out his anger on us."

"Right," Ron took a few more bites of his lunch before risking another glance at Hermione. "And--I think--maybe we should stop arguing."

Hermione almost fell off her bench in shock. "What?"

"Well--with everything--and Harry--I just think that we shouldn't..." Ron trailed off and just looked at her helplessly.

"I know," Hermione cut in, "But honestly, Ron, I rather like arguing with you."

A grin lit up Ron's face. "Really?"

"Yes," she admitted, "I mean--well, no one can argue with me like you can, and you do irritate me, Ron, you really do, but still, I--it just fits, you know?"

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "But Harry..."

"Ron, just because Harry doesn't like the way we interact, doesn't mean that we have change our relationship because of him," Hermione said quietly. "How we chose to interact is our decision." She met his eyes briefly, and a jolt of electricity jumped down her spine. She had to be careful--she could be giving away something.

"Right," Ron said, "So..."

"We'll just tell him that we're not going to argue anymore," Hermione told him, "And we'll try not to quarrel in front of him." She smiled. "But we probably know how long that's going to last.

Ron burst out into laughter, warming Hermione's heart. Ron really had a great laugh. Her smile grew wider just by hearing the sound of it. "So we're agreed?"

"Agreed."

**

The good mood that her conversation with Ron and her fascinating Arithmancy class had brought plummeted five minutes into her first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. It had started off well enough; Ron had come in with Harry and given her a subtle wink, telling her that he had talked to Harry. Harry acted perfectly normal around her, and the class had therefore begun with a smile on Hermione's face.

Then the bitch...or witch...opened her mouth.

"Well, good afternoon!" Professor Umbridge said in such a cheery, falsely hearty voice that Hermione had the urge to slap her. She managed to mumble a response along with a couple of other students, but that wasn't enough for Umbridge. "Tut, tut. That won't do, now, will it? I should like you, please, to reply 'Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.' One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!"

Hermione answered along with the class, but she was thoroughly annoyed. Honestly, this woman was acting like they were in primary school.

"There, now," said Professor Umbridge sweetly. "That wasn't too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please."

Hermione instantly obeyed; it wasn't that unusual that the first day of class didn't entail the use of magic. But as Umbridge lectured on and on about how to make this class more Ministry-approved, and listed the course aims, her heart sank. Something was missing...something very important....

So when they were ordered to read chapter one, which she had of course all ready read, Hermione instead raised her hand.

Umbridge didn't notice right away, but Ron did. He shot her a confused look, but after she sternly raised her eyebrows at him, he rolled his eyes and returned to the book. Of course, he wouldn't have read the chapter yet. He stared down idly at the page, absently playing with his quill and indicating that he wasn't reading his lesson at all. Hermione suppressed the urge to sigh and determinedly focused her attention on the horridly bright pink cardigan-wearing professor. Honestly, if she was going to wear that atrocious monstrosity everyday along with that ridiculous bow in her scraggly hair, Hermione was going to have to beg Fred and George for the antidote to their Puking Pastilles to stop her from vomiting all over the classroom floor.

Now Harry was giving her questioning looks, and she shook her head at him. She didn't take her eyes off Umbridge though--it was now rather obvious that Umbridge was quite aware of her but was choosing to ignore her. But Hermione didn't care if she had to raise her hand all period; her question was going to be answered.

About ten minutes went by before Umbridge finally looked up at her.

"Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?"

"Not about the chapter, no," Hermione began.

"Well, we're reading just now," Umbridge cut in. "If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class."

Like hell we are, Hermione thought rather viciously. She pressed onwards. "I've got a query about your course aims."

Umbridge's eyebrows went up. "And your name is..."

"Hermione Granger," Hermione supplied.

"Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully."

"Well, I don't," Hermione countered, "There's nothing written up there about using defensive spells."

Silence followed her statement, and Hermione could see that the majority of the class was realizing for the first time that the vital portion of DADA class was missing.

"Using defensive spells?" The little laugh Umbridge emitted made Hermione's blood start to boil; she really didn't like this woman. "Why, I can't imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to use a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren't expecting to be attacked during class?"

The sarcasm directed towards her made Hermione even angrier, but before she could reply, someone beat her to it. "We're not going to use magic?" Ron cut in loudly.

She wanted to give Ron a warning look not to get involved, but Umbridge was all ready talking. "Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr..."

"Weasley," said Ron, throwing his hand wildly into the air. Umbridge swiftly turned her back on him, and Hermione instantly raised her hand as well. Harry also thrust his arm into the air--Harry'd better keep his temper in check around this woman, she thought nervously. Umbridge glanced over at Harry but her words were directed towards Hermione.

"Yes, Miss Granger? You wanted to ask something else?"

"Yes, surely the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to practice defensive spells?"

"Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?"

"No, but..."

"Well then, I'm afraid you are not qualified to describe what the 'whole point' of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new program of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way..."

Hermione was about ready to explode at this point. It was insulting enough that this woman was speaking to her in such an utterly condescending manner--she was rather clever herself and knew how Defense should be taught since she had been a pupil of it for four years now. But did she actually did think that this was the way to teach this class--books would only get you so far in this class. You had to practice the spells, and if she was denying the class that opportunity, then the whole year would be useless. And not only would that harm her chance at receiving an O on her O.W.Ls, she had to be sure that she was well-trained in Defense, especially now with You-Know-Who back.

Harry now had jumped into the argument, and the majority of the class was raising their hands, surprising Hermione quite a bit. She certainly hadn't expected to cause a riot with her query.

But she was glad she had.

**

Hermione's temper had not dissipated after DADA ended--Harry had a detention and had to go to McGonagall's office, and she and Ron had to put up with the rest of that horrid class. Umbridge had quietly asked if anyone else wished to join Harry, and when no one had replied, she had then launched into a lecture about the consequences of lies, and some other rubbish. Both she and Ron had raised their hands several times throughout the rant, but Umbridge had looked right through them as if they were invisible. But when they had been filing out of the class, she had caught the hateful look Umbridge had shot at her--it appeared that the professor blamed her for starting the whole incident, but Hermione could care less. She was too concerned with finding a way to get this teacher out of their lives so they could have a proper Defense class.

She was in such a foul mood that when she saw Fred and George manipulating several first-years to test their new products, Hermione reacted a little more forcefully than usual, especially when she saw the first-years slump over unconscious.

"That's enough!" Hermione yelled as forcefully as she could at the older boys. Fred and George looked surprised, but disconcertingly unafraid. She glanced over her shoulder for Ron to say something, and her stomach dropped.

Ron hadn't come with her.

He wasn't going to back her up.

The prickling at the back of her eyes started up again.

Not now!

"Yeah, you're right, this dosage looks strong enough, doesn't it?"

George's words brought her back to the situation, and Hermione glared at him. "I told you this morning, you can't test your rubbish on students!"

"We're paying them!"

"I don't care, it could be dangerous!"

"Rubbish."

"Calm down, Hermione, they're fine!" Lee quickly walked over to each of the unconscious first-years and stuck the antidotes into their limp mouths. Hermione watched them wake up, and recognized one of the dark-haired girls as the one she had stopped Malfoy from harassing the day before. Poor girl didn't know any better...just like she hadn't when she had first come to school...

"Excellent," Fred said with such glee that Hermione wanted to slap him right across the face. She settled for grabbing his supplies right out of his hands.

"It is NOT excellent!"

"Course it is, they're alive, aren't they?"

"You can't do this, what if you made one of them really ill?"

"We're not going to make them ill, we've already tested them all on ourselves, this is just to see if everyone reacts the same..."

"If you don't stop doing it, I'm going to..."

"Put us in detention?" Fred taunted.

"Make us write lines?" George smirked.

The laughter from the onlookers rang loudly in Hermione's ears--she hadn't been laughed at like this in ages, but the pain and embarrassment of it hurt just as much now as it did then. But she couldn't let it get to her like it did in first-year, she was much older now, and she was a prefect. The students had to learn to respect her, and see her as a role model, and she'd be damned if she let Fred and George Weasley question her authority. She had to let them know she was serious about this.

Hermione drew herself up to her full height. "No, but I will write to your mother." Anyone who had stayed at Grimmauld Place that summer had heard Mrs.Weasley chiding her twin sons about their dabbling in the joke shop industry, and knew that she had strictly forbidden her sons to continue it.

That got their attention.

Hermione gave Fred back his supplies and sat back down with Harry and Ron. Or rather Ron's forehead--he was slumping down in his seat, trying to shield himself from the scene. Hermione had to bite her lip for a brief second to stop herself from directing some of her wrath towards him--how dare he leave her to deal with his brothers all by himself? Sure, it was easy for him to back her up when she was challenging Malfoy or Snape, people Ron despised, but if she went against his brothers, who were clearly wrong, Ron wouldn't take her side. Even if he knew she was right.

This day just could not get any worse.

"Thanks for your support, Ron,"

Ron at least had the good sense to look abashed at his behavior. "You handled it fine by yourself," he muttered in a barely audible voice.

She waited for him to apologize while staring at the parchment she had been preparing to write on. But he didn't. And she couldn't sit down here with him if he was going to be such an idiot. She was all ready in a foul temper after the whole DADA disaster, and she wouldn't be able to concentrate down here, now that Fred and George were giving her dark looks from across the room.

Honestly, how many enemies could one girl have?

"Oh, it's no good, I can't concentrate now. I'm going to bed."

So after leaving her homemade hats for the house-elves, and getting even angrier at the idiocy that was Ron Weasley, Hermione swept up to her room to finish her work and pray that tomorrow would be at least somewhat better than today was.


Author notes: The following scenes were taken from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix by J.K. Rowling, American edition (Scholastic 2003)

-conversation when first aboard the Hogwarts Express
-dialouge in the compartment after the prefect's meeting
-talk heading to the carriage with Harry
- conversation after Potions
-DADA class
-confrontation with Fred and George

I know this had a lot of scenes from OotP, but the next chapters have more missing moments. Next chapter includes worrying about Ron, a serious talk with Ginny, and a plan to get Umbridge gone