Hermione Granger and the Time of Troubles

It was rather apparent that Harry Potter wasn't sleeping well; a clear indication that something was troubling him. Hermione watched him over her mug of tea as he and Ron shuffled into the Great Hall the next morning and collapsed into their chairs. Harry yawned widely and stared blearily down at the table while Ron exhaustedly reached for a plate of eggs. No matter how tired Ron Weasley was, nothing came between him and a meal. Hermione glanced over at Ginny and noticed that the youngest Weasley was also watching Harry worriedly. He really didn't look well at all. His glasses couldn't mask the dark circles under his eyes or the absence of the usual mischievous glow in those green eyes. She bit her lip, feeling rather ashamed of herself. How could she be obsessing over her relationship with Ron when her other best friend in the world was possibly standing on the brink of a complete mental breakdown.

The morning mail managed to jolt Harry out of his stupor as Hedwig swept down with a letter and the Daily Prophet. Harry glanced at the envelope before tucking it into his bag, muttering that he would read it later before burying his nose into the newspaper. Hermione retrieved her own copy of the Prophet, and a letter from a strange eagle owl. Hermione eyed it somewhat warily before ripping open the envelope.

Meet me after the prefect meeting to discuss payment.

Hermione set her jaw angrily. Bastard.

"Who's it from?" Ron asked casually. He craned his neck to read the short note, but Hermione quickly stuffed the letter back into the envelope.

"Just a letter from home," Hermione lied smoothly.

"Oh," Ron said with a touch of sympathy as he squeezed her knee under the table. Hermione felt rather guilty; Ron knew that she and her parents weren't getting along, and she knew that he was assuming her anger was directed towards them. "Everything all right with them?"

"Yes, they're just fine," she said quickly. Hermione placed the envelope in her satchel, and as she straightened up, she felt Malfoy's eyes on her from across the hall. She made sure she didn't look in his direction for the rest of the meal, but Malfoy remained irritatingly in her thoughts nevertheless. They had to have their talk with Harry today; otherwise she may be forced to adhere to whatever Malfoy commanded.

The trio rose from the table, and Ron held out his arm to let Harry slink ahead of them. "What's going on?" Hermione asked as Ron waited until Harry was well out of earshot. "Is everything all right?"

"Sort of," Ron hedged, looking rather worked up about something. He finally pulled Hermione aside into an empty classroom. "It's Harry," he finally admitted when they were alone.

"What about him?" Hermione asked.

"He's been having nightmares," Ron began, starting to pace. "Not the bad ones," he quickly added seeing the anxious expression on her face. "Not the ones with You-Know-Who."

"But he's never really slept well," Hermione pointed out quietly, "He's always had bad dreams."

"They're worse; it's every night now. I can tell it takes him forever to get to sleep, he's always tossing and turning, and when he does finally drop off, he..." Ron trailed off, looking guilty that he was about to reveal some intimate details of Harry's private life, but knowing he had to. "He talks in his sleep, and I can't make it out most of the time, but sometimes I can. Usually it's about Sirius, but last night, I heard him say something about prophesies."

"Prophesies?" Hermione repeated, confused. "What about prophesies?"

"He said that he didn't want it to be true, that he doesn't want this, why did it have to be him," Ron relayed meaningfully.

Hermione gaped at him. "He doesn't want the prophesy to be true?" she asked for clarification. Ron nodded, stopping his pacing. "But he doesn't know what the prophesy said, does he?"

Ron shrugged. "I don't know. If he does, he hasn't told me."

"Nor I," Hermione whispered, brow furrowed. "Perhaps Dumbledore knew about it and told him after the whole Ministry of Magic fiasco." Inadvertently, her eyes went to Ron's arms. "Or maybe Professor Lupin knew. I mean, just because the original prophesy was destroyed doesn't mean that there isn't a copy of it somewhere or someone had heard it and remembered it and told Harry about it." She looked up at Ron, who was still standing still, watching her. "He could know."

"But why wouldn't he tell us?" Ron demanded. "He told us about what happened with the third task."

"Maybe this is different," Hermione hypothesized, "Maybe he doesn't want us to know because he thinks we'll think less of him, you know what Harry's like."

"Idiot," Ron muttered, raking his hand through his hair with impatience. "What should we do?"

Hermione shrugged. "We could ask him about it. There's nothing else we can really do until he's ready to talk about it." She let out a little laugh. "We're already going to be having a serious chat with him; why not add something else to the list."

"Yeah," Ron agreed reluctantly. He scooted forward on the cushion and leaned towards her. "Maybe we should put it off."

"Which one?" Hermione asked dryly. "Because there is no way we're going to put off telling Harry about us, Ron. We have to."

"He--he's going to hate me," Ron said quietly.

"Ron," Hermione said patiently. "You're getting all worked up over nothing. Harry will understand; I know he will. I think your friendship is strong enough to last through anything, let alone something as silly as both of you maybe fancying the same girl."

"Hermione, you're not just some girl," Ron argued. "If he does fancy you..." he trailed off with a shake of his head. "It could ruin all of us."

"You don't even know if it's true," Hermione reminded him.

"But what if it is?" Ron countered.

"What if it isn't?" Hermione retorted.

"But it could be true," Ron shot back.

"Well, there's only way to find out," Hermione said softly.

**

"So," Ron asked under his breath after ordering his bishop to decapitate her pawn. "When do we do it?"

Hermione looked over at Harry. He was sitting on the window ledge, staring bleakly off into the rainy morning. Due to their N.E.W.T. classes, the three of them had their Monday mornings free. They were the only ones in the common room since the majority of students were in class, so it seemed like an ideal time. But Hermione wasn't so sure; he seemed rather lost in thought and decidedly unapproachable.

"I don't know," she returned tentatively.

"And should we tell him about us first, or ask him about the dream?" Ron continued edgily.

"I don't know," Hermione repeated. She glanced again at Harry. "I don't think he's ready to talk about whatever's troubling him."

"Is he ever?" Ron muttered.

Hermione looked up from the chessboard at the bitter tone in Ron's voice. "Ron, is everything okay? You didn't tell him already, did you?"

"No," Ron quickly denied. "Your move."

"Knight to E5," Hermione stated after a moment of contemplation.

"Okay, so not now," Ron agreed. "When?"

"I don't know," Hermione admitted, propping herself up on her elbows so she could lean closer to Ron. "I don't think he'll ever really be ready to talk about whatever's bothering him. I think whatever it is will probably remind him of Sirius."

"Don't," Ron hissed warningly, darting another anxious look over at Harry. Sirius' name had become taboo around Harry; Harry had never really talked about the death of his godfather's, and Hermione had a feeling that whatever was troubling Harry stemmed from his inability to deal Sirius' death.

"He's going to have to face it someday," Hermione argued, "It's not like he can go through his entire life avoiding anyone who mentions Sirius."

"Maybe he can," Ron insisted doggedly, "Everyone knows not to..."

"Ron, we have to be realistic," Hermione argued. "Honestly, don't be so stubborn!"

"I'm not being stubborn!"

"You are too!"

"Will you two stop arguing already?!" Hermione flinched. She couldn't believe she had just forgotten that Harry was in the room. "Especially since you are arguing about me," Harry added. The dull look had left his eyes, but Hermione wasn't pleased with the change considering that his eyes were once again flashing with irritation at her.

"Sorry," Ron mumbled.

"Why don't you just ask me whatever you two are whispering about?" Harry continued crossly.

Looks like we are having this conversation now, Hermione thought grimly as she shifted in her chair so she could look at Harry directly. "Well, Harry, we do need to talk to you about some things."

Harry inhaled sharply, his face betraying that he had a pretty good idea what was coming. He swung his legs over the window seat so he could face his friends. "Go on then."

Hermione shot a look at Ron, who was staring back at her; where should they start? Ron looked incredibly anxious, so Hermione decided to ease him into the difficult conversations by starting off with the one that would be easier. She opened her mouth, but the portrait hole swung open at that moment, and Ginny Weasley stumbled into the room, wiping at her robes in distaste.

"Greasy-haired, pasty-faced bastar..." Ginny trailed off sheepishly as she realized she had an audience. "Oh, hullo," she said brightly. She straightened up, and Hermione could see that she had some sort of potion spilled all over her uniform and robes.

"What happened to you?" Ron asked with relief, glad that he could focus on his little sister for a moment and not think about what he had to admit to Harry.

"Snape was breathing down my neck and made me nervous so I spilled my potion all over," Ginny explained indignantly. "He told me that I could either stop acting like a bumbling fool or leave, so I left," she said with a flourish. Harry and Ron both smothered their laughter while Hermione looked at her friend with mild disapproval. "Come on, Hermione," Ginny said before Hermione could reproach her. "I had to get this mess off of me anyway."

"What is it?" Hermione asked with a sigh as she extracted her wand.

Ginny smiled guiltily. "I have no idea; I wasn't really paying attention. I was sort of just throwing random ingredients in my cauldron." Her glee was fading as she watched Harry carefully. Harry's smile had vanished rather quickly and the moody expression was back on his downcast face. Ginny seemed to be finally putting two-and-two together. "Did I interrupt something?" she asked. Harry glanced over at Ginny and their eyes met, telling Ginny everything she needed to know. "I can leave," Ginny offered, which Hermione thought was rather big of her. Ginny was the type of girl who always had to know everything, and Hermione knew that she was dying to know what the hell was going on.

"No, it's fine, you can stay." Harry told her offhandedly before turning back to Ron and Hermione. Ginny inconspicuously sat down at the armchair nearest Hermione, apparently forgetting all about her stained robes. "What do you want to know?"

Hermione looked over at Ron, hoping that he would initiate the conversation, being that Ron had been the one to overhear Harry's mutterings. But Ron only looked back at her pleadingly, and damn it, she loved the prat so she gave into him. Again.

"Well, Ron heard you talking in your sleep last night," Hermione forged ahead, "And you said something about it not being fair about the prophesy." Harry stiffened noticeably and got to his feet so he could start pacing. "But that doesn't make sense because the prophesy broke," she paused meaningfully, "Right?"

Harry stood in front of the fireplace, gripping the mantle over the fireplace and keeping his back to his friends. "I know what the prophesy says," he admitted slowly.

Hermione and Ron instantly looked at each other in shock. Looks like that the relationship talk with Harry was going to have to wait. "What does it say?" Hermione asked.

"It--I'm--well," Harry looked most uncomfortable about whatever he had to tell them; in fact, Hermione had never seen Harry this ill at ease before. And he had to tell them some pretty awful things before.

"It's okay," Ginny said quietly, looking at Harry directly, "You don't have to tell us."

But I want to know! Hermione could tell that Ron was thinking the exact same thing by the expression on his face that resembled what she imagined he looked like if the Chudley Cannons were behind by 140 points in the Quidditch final and their Seeker was chasing down the Snitch with the opposing team's Seeker at his heels.

Ginny's words seemed to give Harry some odd sense of confidence, and he straightened up, but still wouldn't look at them. "No," he said in a low voice. "No, it's time." He did have to pause to collect himself before taking a deep breath and forging ahead. "Trelawney prophesized that I'm the only one who can defeat Voldemort, either I have to kill him or he has to kill me. It's him or me. One of us will die."

Hermione was really glad she was sitting down otherwise she was certain she would have collapsed in shock. Ron leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, hands gripping his hair tightly while Ginny sat upright, gaping open mouthed at Harry. Hermione hadn't even realized that she had brought her hand to cover her own mouth until she needed to brush some hair out of her face and dumbly couldn't seem to find her hand. Her mind was too busy reeling to process simple, everyday actions. She didn't really know what she really expected the prophesy to say, but not this. She didn't want Harry to be forced to either be a murderer or a victim. He didn't deserve this, he had gone through so much already, it wasn't fair that he was destined to do this, he was just a child for heaven's sake, he should be worrying about normal teenager things like girls or Quidditch or some trivial, childish things. It just wasn't fair.

"So, let me get this straight," Hermione's shaky voice penetrated the palpable silence that had been permeating the common room. "You are the only person in the world who can stop Voldemort,"

"Right," Harry replied flatly.

"And it's been ordained by Professor Trelawney that either you will kill Voldemort or he will kill you,"

"Yup,"

"And that's the reason Voldemort has been after you all of these years."

"You got it."

Hermione mimicked Ron's action and leaned forward on the sofa, her elbows on her knees and her face now buried into her hands. So that was it. That was the reason her best friend had been chased by the most feared dark sorcerer of century. This was the reason why her world was falling apart. She had the terrible urge to burst out into tears at the news of her best friend's fate of either murderer or victim, but she forced herself to stay in control. She couldn't be losing it now; she had to help them think of a solution.

Hermione straightened up while smoothing her hair back out of her face. She heaved a deep breath and looked directly at Harry's face. "How did you find out?" Now that she had gotten control of herself, it had become first instinct to start asking questions.

"Dumbledore told me," Harry replied with a hollow voice. "Right after we got back from the Ministry."

"Have you told anyone else?"

Harry silently shook his head.

"So what now?" Ron finally spoke up, raising his head and leaning back in the chair. Hermione could tell that he was trying to remain calm, but the fact that his freckles were more vivid than ever gave away that he was still very shaken up by Harry's news. "What do we do next?" He glanced over at Hermione hopefully, hoping that she was concocting a plan that would make everything all right. But it was Harry who spoke first.

"What can we do?" The bitterness was apparent in his voice, and Hermione had a sinking feeling that an imminent argument was brewing. "It's a prophesy, it's divined, I'm stuck."

"That's not true," Ginny said firmly. "You always have a choice, Harry."

Harry looked comforted by Ginny's words for about three seconds before scowling in disbelief and beginning to pace again. Ginny swallowed hard and turned around so she could give her brother and friend a look that clearly expressed her desperate need for help.

"Harry," Hermione jumped in, "Ginny's right. You can prepare for this; you can be ready for this. We have D.A ..."

"No!" Harry burst out, rounding on her angrily. "D.A. didn't help us in the Ministry that night, did it? I'm never going to be ready, not really! It'd probably be better if I just..."

"You just what?" Ron cut in, getting to his feet, looking very confused but with a vague hint of suspicion on his face.

Hermione, on the other hand, knew exactly where Harry was going with this, and it finally clicked why he had been so distant for the whole year. She too jumped up from her chair. "Harry, no way! Don't even think about it!"

"Why not!?" Harry exploded, "I have to do it at some point, might as well get it over with!"

"Harry, no!" Hermione protested, shaking her head so vehemently that her long curls flew on and off her cheeks. "You can prepare for this, you can finish school, and you can keep learning and preparing, and when you're ready, then you can face him and defeat him!"

"Hermione, you don't get it!" Harry raged, his face starting to turn red, "Do you really think Voldemort is just going say right, well, I'll just wait for the only person in the world who can defeat me to pop over for a visit and I'll handle it then? He's going to come after me! And I'm not just going to sit here being a good little boy like I was last year, and let trouble comes to me!"

"Harry, you can't be serious!" Hermione screamed, without really realizing what she was saying, "You can't..." She trailed off when she saw the flash of pain on Harry's face, and she wished she could Memory Charm Harry and take the words back. She knew that he had to start hearing Sirius' name at some point, or even words that sounded like Sirius' name, but when his eyes glowed like that...Harry so rarely outwardly showed emotion nowadays that when he did, it hurt even more, because she knew that he worked so hard to hide his emotions, so when it did pop out, he had to be hurting very badly. She closed her eyes for a moment and swallowed hard. But she had to keep going, he had to know. "You can't possibly be thinking to go looking for Voldemort, do you?"

"And why not?" Harry yelled.

"Because that's nutters, mate!" Ron cut in.

"No, it's not!" Harry shot back, and Hermione actually recoiled a step. Hermione had never seen Harry this angry before, and in his rage, he radiated such an aura of power that she was actually frightened of Harry. "Look, you can't possibly know what it's like! You think that everything is fine now since we got through another school year without getting killed and everything is fine, but it's not because he's still out there, and I know he's still out there because he's--in--my--head!" Harry angrily tapped his forefinger to the side of his forehead. "All of the time! Even if I'm not dreaming about him or hearing his voice or sensing how he feels at the moment, he's there! And even if he isn't doing anything inside of my skull at the moment, I know at any moment he can reach in and be there, and see inside of me, and now I'm just sitting around, waiting for him to either mess with me or hurt someone or kill..." Harry choked on the word, and instinctively his hand went to his scar. Hermione quickly went towards him, but he backed away before either her, Ron, or Ginny could touch him. "He could kill someone, he already has killed someone, and I can't just sit here waiting for him to hurt someone else, and I know that maybe part of my saving-people thing," he spat angrily in the direction of Hermione, "but I can't help that!"

"Harry, you can help that," Hermione interrupted. She knew she should probably just let Harry vent and release some of the bottled up emotions he was keeping inside, but the jab about the saving-people thing pushed her over the edge. "You can! If you would just keep up with your Occulmency," Harry rolled his eyes viciously at this point and had to walk a few steps away from Hermione. "If you would keep up with your Occulmency," she repeated more forcefully, "then Voldemort--Ron don't flinch--wouldn't be in your head anymore, now would he? Dumbledore told you that it would help, and when has Dumbledore ever led us in the wrong direction? Dumbledore believes in you, he thinks you can do this, I know he does, but not yet! You can't rush this, you have to take time and prepare for this." She gesticulated towards the window, "You don't just walk onto the Quidditch pitch without any training, do you?! You have to train for battle, you have to be patient, and you have to let people help you!"

"I let people help me," Harry scoffed under his breath.

"Oh, you do not!" Hermione screeched, feeling her own cheeks burning with anger, her heart pounding as she got even more worked up. "You didn't let Snape help you, did you? You didn't let Ron or me help you with your dreams, did you? You didn't tell anyone about your detentions with Umbridge, you didn't want us to come with you to the Ministry, you didn't ask for help with your hearing even though you knew that I had done some research for you, and you didn't tell us about this prophesy until Ron and I forced it out of you! Harry, you are going to have to learn that you are not in this alone, that even though the prophesy does only name you as the savior of the world, no one can save mankind alone! You need help, you need me, you need Ron, you need Ginny, you need all the people who love you, so you're going to have to learn to let us into that thick skull of yours and let us be there for you and help you and once you do learn that, then you'll be ready to take him on, and that's the only way you're going to be ready to take on Voldemort--Ron, DON'T...!"

Hermione had seen Ron reflexively flinch at the mention of Voldemort's name out of the corner of her eye, and out of habit, had rounded on him, her voice rising to an almost feverish pitch in her extreme irritation and anger. Her hand had flew up to swat Ron on the arm, and that's when the pain had exploded in her ribcage. She gritted her teeth in irritation; this was the worse time for her stupid Ministry injury to flare up like this. The burning pain in her chest took her breath away completely, and her hand that had been traveling to swat Ron quickly pressed itself against her side. She bent forward slightly as she stumbled back a few steps, unable to suppress a cry of pain.

"What? What is it?" Ginny asked with wide eyes. "What's wrong? What's the matter?"

"Give her a minute," Ron ordered. He of course knew what was wrong, and immediately led her over to the sofa and sat beside her. Hermione wrapped an arm around her midriff and leaned forward again in an effort to alleviate the pain. Ron's hand pressed firmly into hers, and his other hand rested on her shoulder, his thumb moving back and forth reassuringly. Hermione closed her eyes; Ron helped more than any potion could.

Her breath finally came back and she straightened up. "I'm fine,"

"You sure?" Ron asked quietly. Hermione nodded, risking a glance over at him, but almost immediately having to look away. Ron's eyes were one of the things that she loved most about him but at the same time scared her. He was so full of emotion and open; you always knew what Ron felt, and the easiest way to see that was his eyes. Right now, they clearly conveyed that he was worried sick about her, and she wasn't used to seeing such pure, unadulterated concern, and the fact that he was the boy she was in love with and he was that worried about her, made it all the more wonderful and petrifying.

"See," Harry spoke up in a very strained voice, and Hermione and Ron both looked up at him. She could tell that he was too quite concerned for her health, but the anger was still there. He gestured towards her. "That's why I don't want you involved!" He strode forward and roughly pulled back Ron's jumper sleeve to reveal the ugly scars. "And that's why I don't tell you some things!" He whirled around to Ginny. "And your broken ankle! And Neville's nose and wand! And Tonks spending a week in St. Mungo's! And Moody! And Roberts, Sanders, Wyatt! And Sirius!" Hermione thought for a second that Harry might break down completely at this point, but he only hesitated for a fraction of an instant to swallow hard before continuing, "I've already killed someone; it's my fault Sirius is dead! And I can't let that happen again! This is my fight, my battle, and I don't want anyone getting hurt because of it! The sooner this ends, the better, and the less people will get hurt! It's like--it's like I'm just sitting on a bomb or something--I mean I'm just waiting for death, and I can't stand it any longer, and I just want it to be over!"

There was a long, stunned silence as Harry's tirade abruptly ended. Hermione continued to bite her lip, but not because of the pain in her chest. She was trying hard not to cry at the sight of Harry's anguished face. His green eyes looked a bit over-bright, and if she didn't know better, she would have thought that Harry was close to tears. His face was very flushed, his breathing labored, and for once his heart was on his sleeve, and it plainly told the world that he was going through massive, monumental amounts of anguish. He started to storm out of the room, but he stopped as something caught his eye. Hermione followed his gaze to hers and Ron's intertwined hands.

"And don't lecture me about not telling you things," Harry added in a poorly controlled voice. "You two," He gestured wildly to their hands, "are the last people to reprimand me about hiding things!"

Hermione closed her eyes. Oh no.

"Harry--what are you talking about?" Ron asked meekly. Ginny gaped at the couple with a dropped jaw.

"Oh come on," Harry sneered. "Don't tell me that there isn't anything going on between you two!"

"How--did you--who told..." Ron stammered, throwing Hermione's hand away as if her touch was a scalding potion. She looked down at her lap, having a hunch about where Harry had gotten his information about the latest development between her and Ron.

"Was it Malfoy?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Malfoy?" Harry and Ron asked as one.

"You told Malfoy and not me!" Harry exploded. He whirled towards a still very taken-aback Ginny. "Did you know?"

"No--no, I didn't," Ginny didn't sound angry, just hurt, which was more biting than any outburst could.

"How the hell does Malfoy know about us?" Ron demanded, ignoring Harry and his sister.

"He found the book I gave you," Hermione told him, her indignation starting to rise. "Which reminds me, how did my birthday gift to you end up in Malfoy's hands?"

Ron swore loudly. "I must have left it outside the day we..." He stopped in mid-sentence and glanced over at an irate Harry and a bewildered Ginny. "You know," he finished lamely.

"Yeah," Hermione said as she rose from the sofa. She was starting to get worked up herself, and found herself unable to stay seated any longer. "It's nice to know what my gift meant to you."

"You know what it meant to me," Ron followed her angrily. "I was a bit distracted that day, if you remember correctly!" Ron knew he couldn't convince her, so he quickly changed tact. "Why didn't you tell me that Malfoy found out about us?"

"Because it just happened," Hermione explained hotly. "And I don't have to tell you everything. I've told you I can handle Malfoy on my own!"

"Handle him?" Ron repeated. "What did he do to you?"

"Nothing!" Hermione lied. "He just threatened to tell Harry if I didn't do what he said--and he saw us on the train on the first day of school," she added under her breath quickly.

Ron groaned but it was Harry who spoke up first. "So you didn't want to tell me about you two shagging!" Harry said triumphantly.

"Of course not!" Ron snapped, turning on his other best friend. "Because I thought that you wanted to shag her!"

"Hey, no one is shagging!" Hermione interjected to an oblivious audience. Ginny rather appered as though she was watching a tennis match, head bobbing back and forth between the two boys, eyes wide with anxiety.

"What?" Harry laughed loudly in disbelief. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard! Me and Hermione?!" He glanced over at Hermione and laughed again. "Come on!"

"Hey!" Ron automatically growled. "Don't talk that way about her!" Harry rolled his eyes violently and paced away from his best friend without any intention of apologizing. Ron barreled after him, fire blazing in his eyes. "I don't know why I ever thought you fancied her, you treat her like shit!"

"I do not!" Harry protested, halting so he could stand his ground.

"You do too!" Ron countered furiously. He pointed back at Hermione, who was standing to the side, not sure what to do. "All she has ever done is try to help you and you...!"

"Well, I don't need her help!" Harry yelled back. "I don't need anyone!"

"Bollocks!" Hermione shouted, finally getting her two best friends' attention. "You do too need us!"

"No, as a matter of fact, I don't!" Harry countered fiercely. "And don't try to tell me otherwise, Hermione, because I'm sorry, but I just don't have time to save your neck anymore!"

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked with indignation. "What does that supposed to mean?"

"It means that if I have to save the bloody world, I can't waste my time listening to you and saving your ass whenever you fuck up!"

That shut her up.

It rather fit for him to think that--she thought he had a saving-people thing, he thought she always needed to be saved. But did he honestly think that she was so useless and helpless and unable to defend herself? She was very capable of defending herself, and it was insulting that Harry would think that, and she had to admit, it hurt quite a bit too. She thought that she was more to Harry than just his useless friend who happened to be a girl who had managed to get cursed rather badly on their last adventure. And so had Ron, and Ron had gotten knocked out by a chess piece, and broken his leg, and gotten cursed by Pettigrew. She had only been cursed once, and well, Petrified, but that was different. She and Ron had always been involved with Harry's escapades, because he needed them to be. He needed help. But now it appeared that he didn't want her help any longer.

She knew that he did need her, and deep down inside of him, he knew it to. She could spend some time trying to convince him of this, but Harry wouldn't listen to her, and frankly, she was sick of arguing and fighting with Harry. Things with Harry hadn't been right ever since fifth-year and she was tired of it.

Dumbledore's words for many years ago echoed in the back of her mind.

It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends.

She had been standing up to Harry for over a year now. This woe-is-me and everyone-is-against-me act was ridiculous, and she had been putting up with it for long enough. Sometimes it was like she didn't even know Harry anymore; he was so angry. The depth of his rage scared her more than she cared to admit, although she'd never tell him why this bitterness scared her so much.

This hatred of the world was the first step to a darker path, the path that few chose to take, the path that Voldemort had taken.

That's why she had stuck by Harry even when he was being completely horrible to her. Ron stayed with Harry out of sheer loyalty, and although she was undeniably faithful to Harry as well, she also had to admit it was to keep an eye on him. He needed someone close to him to keep a level head and keep him grounded right now. This was a very vulnerable time, and the slightest push in the wrong direction could be devastating.

But it was really hard to stay by Harry when he glared at her like that.

It was like he hated her too.

The thought of Harry hating her hurt her more than she ever expected. An acute pain stabbed through her chest, and she instinctively brought up a hand to cover her trembling lip, but she quickly lowered it. She didn't want Harry to see how much he had upset her. She really hoped her eyes would stop stinging like that--she couldn't cry in front of them now. She couldn't look at Harry right now, so her eyes went to Ron. He was still gaping, his jaw dropped, eyes clearly conveying he had no clue what to do next. Their eyes met, and his brow creased slightly. He instinctively took a step forward towards her, and started to bring his hand up to touch her in some way. But with a quick glance over at Harry, he stopped. The pain in her chest sharpened, and her throat constricted. Damn it, Ron, please, she thought desperately, for once in your life don't feel so self-conscious, and just do what you feel! I know you want to...

Or did he?

She broke her eyes away from Ron's. No, don't do this now, not when you're feeling like this. Ron cares about you; Ron wouldn't have endured the months of sneaking around if he didn't. But he hadn't wanted to tell people about them and after seeing how obvious it was that Harry had no romantic interest in her, Ron's credibility was fading. What if he really didn't want to tell people that he was dating her? She had always just assumed that he cared for her in that way, she had thought that Harry cared, in a friend sort of way of course. And now...now, Hermione wasn't sure of anything anymore. Her mind spun with confusion, and for a brief moment she actually feared she was in danger of passing out. But that would be silly, and Hermione Granger was a sensible girl. But even sensible girls broke down, and Hermione knew she was dangerously close to having a complete mental breakdown. And having one in front of an irate Harry and a clueless Ron was not a good idea.

"Is that how you feel?" she asked Ron, managing to keep her voice fairly even.

Ron looked rather shocked that she was involving him in the argument. "Well--I--uh..."

Ron's hesitation hurt her a great deal more than usual. Hermione would have thought that she'd get used to Ron just standing by and letting Harry or his brothers treat her this way. Ron always defended her against Malfoy and Snape, but if it was Harry then God forbid that Ron speak up in her defense. He had just been defending her to Harry, but that was beside the point now. The point was that Harry had just said a horrible thing to her, and Ron didn't care enough to defend her.

Not that she needed Ron to defend her. She was perfectly capable of sticking up for herself, thank you very much. It--well--it would just be nice if he did.

"Fine," she said scathingly, "Just stand there like an idiot. That is one of your specialties, isn't it?"

"Like yours is being a bossy know-it-all?" Ron shot back, his face growing red. "You get more like Percy everyday!"

That was a hit below the belt. Hermione knew how much Ron had wished his brother would come back, but she also knew that Ron thought his older brother was a pompous, overly-ambitious, megalomaniac who had a rather large object shoved up his bum. It was rather painful to think that Ron was starting to view her in that light.

"What is the matter with you two?" she practically shrieked, "Do you really think that little of me after all that we've been through together? After six years, you," she gestured wildly towards Harry, "Think I'm useless, and you," she waved her other hand towards Ron, "think that I'm turning out to be your brother who deserted you and your family! Thank you for enlightening me, because I've been kidding myself by thinking that we were best friends and I thought, Ron, that we...I thought we...!" Hermione wanted to say a lot more, but a slight hiccup stopped her diatribe, and she had to press a hand over her mouth to prevent a sob from escaping.

"Hermione," Ron tried, looking stricken when realized how upset she was.

She held up a hand as he tried to come towards her. "Don't," she warned irately. "Just don't!" She dropped the hand when she was sure that Ron wouldn't try to get anywhere near her. "Well, now that I know how you both feel," Hermione stated in a quivering voice, "then I--I guess..."

Hermione couldn't finish her sentence; she couldn't do it anymore; her chest was burning so sharply that she knew she either had to stop and calm down or have to be taken to Madame Pomfrey. And at this point, Hermione didn't think she could calm down in the presence of those two. Hermione quickly spun around on her heel and walked with as much dignity as possible to the girls' dormitory. She hoped, or rather prayed, that Harry could call out to her and apologize or Ron would run after her or they would do something to stop her. She didn't think they would really let her just go off alone when she was clearly as upset as she was.

But they did.