Hermione Granger sat at the window of the Gryffindor common room, staring up at the full moon. Her gaze was constant, as was her concern. Clouds drifted here and there, and a few stars were pinpricks in the inky night sky. She bit her lower lip, sighed, and tucked a few errant strands of hair behind her right ear.
"You look as though the weight of the world rested on your shoulders," Harry Potter said as he sat down in the armchair next to her. "I know being Head Girl is stressful, but what's got you like this?" After getting no response from his friend, he asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"
Hermione shook her head. She really just wanted to be left alone with her thoughts.
Harry watched her for a minute, then got up and went back over to where Ginny and Neville were discussing their Transfiguration homework. Every once in a while he'd glance back over at Hermione, but she hadn't budged.
At eleven thirty, the rest of the common room had cleared out and Harry walked back over to the window. "It's late, Hermione," he said softly, reaching for her hand. "Off to bed with you."
She looked up. "I'm not tired," she snapped.
Shrugging, Harry headed for his dorm. "Good night, then." When he reached the stairs, he turned back to look. Sure enough, Hermione was still staring out the window.
Once she was alone, Hermione pulled out a book with a worn leather cover. She opened the book, removed the ribbon bookmark, and began to write.
It's difficult to be apart from you even though I know I must right now. The moon has moved past my window but I know it's there, changing tides and lighting the sky. And I know all because of this moon we are not together this night.
Two days ago I was able to talk with you, sit with you, touch your face. I could see you, know you, have you to myself. But now I share you with the moon. I am not a person who likes to share.
A patter of footsteps made her put down her quill and close up her book.
"Hermione?" a quiet voice asked.
Hermione looked up. Ginny Weasley, her red hair pulled into a ponytail, stood there looking worried.
"Yes?"
"Hermione, I just wanted to say, well, that is..." Ginny cleared her throat, and knelt down on the floor in front of her friend. "I'm sure he's okay, Hermione."
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean, you're sure he's okay?" She slid her book in the blue rucksack at her feet.
After glancing around to make sure the common room was empty save for the two of them, Ginny replied, "He goes through this once a month, doesn't he? He's fine."
Hermione leaned back in the chair and sighed—a long noise that went on for quite a while. She suddenly burst into tears, and Ginny, who was shocked because she knew Hermione rarely cried, held her friend. She held her friend because it was the least she could do. "Hermione, he's okay," she murmured while patting the other girl's hair.
Through sniffles, Hermione gulped, "I know, but I worry anyway. He said he'd see me again in a couple of days, but it's been nearly intolerable." She pulled back from Ginny to wipe her face with the back of her hand. "I hate crying," she said.
"You love him, don't you?" Ginny asked.
The rush of emotion flooded her veins and made her insides tremble. The idea, the sense of it all hit her hard, and with the reason and logic that fit her so well, Hermione answered, "Yes, I do. I love Remus Lupin."
Ginny picked up Hermione's bag, slung it over her shoulder, and pulled Hermione to her feet. "Come on, you need some rest. You've got a Charms exam tomorrow."
"Right. And your brother is counting on me to help him study," Hermione said, stifling a yawn. The two girls climbed the steps to their dorms. As they parted, Ginny handed over the rucksack with a smile. "Thank you, Ginny," Hermione said.
"Good night, Hermione," Ginny replied.
"You look as though the weight of the world rested on your shoulders," Harry Potter said as he sat down in the armchair next to her. "I know being Head Girl is stressful, but what's got you like this?" After getting no response from his friend, he asked, "Do you want to talk about it?"
Hermione shook her head. She really just wanted to be left alone with her thoughts.
Harry watched her for a minute, then got up and went back over to where Ginny and Neville were discussing their Transfiguration homework. Every once in a while he'd glance back over at Hermione, but she hadn't budged.
At eleven thirty, the rest of the common room had cleared out and Harry walked back over to the window. "It's late, Hermione," he said softly, reaching for her hand. "Off to bed with you."
She looked up. "I'm not tired," she snapped.
Shrugging, Harry headed for his dorm. "Good night, then." When he reached the stairs, he turned back to look. Sure enough, Hermione was still staring out the window.
Once she was alone, Hermione pulled out a book with a worn leather cover. She opened the book, removed the ribbon bookmark, and began to write.
It's difficult to be apart from you even though I know I must right now. The moon has moved past my window but I know it's there, changing tides and lighting the sky. And I know all because of this moon we are not together this night.
Two days ago I was able to talk with you, sit with you, touch your face. I could see you, know you, have you to myself. But now I share you with the moon. I am not a person who likes to share.
A patter of footsteps made her put down her quill and close up her book.
"Hermione?" a quiet voice asked.
Hermione looked up. Ginny Weasley, her red hair pulled into a ponytail, stood there looking worried.
"Yes?"
"Hermione, I just wanted to say, well, that is..." Ginny cleared her throat, and knelt down on the floor in front of her friend. "I'm sure he's okay, Hermione."
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean, you're sure he's okay?" She slid her book in the blue rucksack at her feet.
After glancing around to make sure the common room was empty save for the two of them, Ginny replied, "He goes through this once a month, doesn't he? He's fine."
Hermione leaned back in the chair and sighed—a long noise that went on for quite a while. She suddenly burst into tears, and Ginny, who was shocked because she knew Hermione rarely cried, held her friend. She held her friend because it was the least she could do. "Hermione, he's okay," she murmured while patting the other girl's hair.
Through sniffles, Hermione gulped, "I know, but I worry anyway. He said he'd see me again in a couple of days, but it's been nearly intolerable." She pulled back from Ginny to wipe her face with the back of her hand. "I hate crying," she said.
"You love him, don't you?" Ginny asked.
The rush of emotion flooded her veins and made her insides tremble. The idea, the sense of it all hit her hard, and with the reason and logic that fit her so well, Hermione answered, "Yes, I do. I love Remus Lupin."
Ginny picked up Hermione's bag, slung it over her shoulder, and pulled Hermione to her feet. "Come on, you need some rest. You've got a Charms exam tomorrow."
"Right. And your brother is counting on me to help him study," Hermione said, stifling a yawn. The two girls climbed the steps to their dorms. As they parted, Ginny handed over the rucksack with a smile. "Thank you, Ginny," Hermione said.
"Good night, Hermione," Ginny replied.