Hermione passed trough the halls, heading for breakfast. She had earlier told Harry and Ron to take off without her, and said she had the last paragraph in a potions essay to complete.
The truth had quite a different nature to it. She was in the midst of war. A war for principles and virtue, a battle of minds, a pursuit of power. She was facing her personal most destructive enemy, and she knew she must face him alone.
Her hair, it sought revenge, as she made it suffer trough rain late last night. It wasn't their first battle, actually, it was becoming quite a routine.
Hermione had taken the liking of the stars on a rainy night, especially when it seemed the sky expressed her words better than herself. And there she was, after a weary struggle of 15 minutes, with a reasonably managed plait.
Not that it mattered, she would visit those mystery specks tonight as well. They shone for her with no restraint, when she was confused, when she became obstinate and unbearable, and finally, when she was quite alright and didn't feel the need for them. Their soul existence was fascinating and steady, a mystery waiting to be solved, she descended absently down a staircase.
Then, you ask, what was the point struggling against your very nature on what was becoming a regular basis. Though an argument well maintained, it had been well ignored, she frowned.
Hermione Granger was not accustomed to be spending much attention on her physical looks. A sudden change in character ought to be holding a justified cause.Alas, not such motive, sophisticated nor notable, was found. A feeble guess involving puberty and self conciseness was quickly blotted out with a reasoning that involved the condition of her chest and relationships with the opposite sex. Degrading ones' self to a level of superficial involvement with another, while disregarding the others' principles and qualities, as poor as they may be, is not one of my perforations.
A hand touched her shoulder, and a voice that made her stomach sting cut trough that train of thought, 'Hermione, what are you doing? Breakfast is the other way around, where are you going?' she turned and saw his investigating eyes. 'uh, I didn-, I mean, wh-' how sophisticated of you, Hermione, you must have lost truck of yourself, walking around, she paused, 'I wanted to check the library for the essay,' she checked her watch, 'but it's late and I'll miss breakfast, so let's go eat. It wasn't so important anyway. I finished the essay without the book.' She started walking in the opposite direction, Harry staring at her as if she just said she liked dancing to the beat with a couple of vigorous monkeys. 'Did you just choose food over homework? I can't believe I lived to witness-', ' quit being so dramatic, Harry, what were you doing here anyway?' she asked, changing the subject quickly and raising an eyebrow, 'well, I might as well say I was having the cravings for a nice ol'book, if we carry this hallucinated theme', he stopped as she glared at him, 'well I was on the way back to the dormitory, looking for you, because breakfast had already finished and you didn't come. I know you have different priorities then Ron and me, but you gotta eat', he held out a freshly baked bun for her.
They walked their way to potions, laughing and arguing. Harry hadn't noticed her glances. A glance at the hot bun then at him, and again at the bun. At least, she hoped he hadn't. Or did she?