Drowning Hearts, Flooding Tears

Chapter One: Feeling of¡¦What?

The crackling of the blazing fireplace filled the late winter afternoon of the Gryffindor common room. From one corner of the room there came the constant scratching of quills on parchment as a student struggled with a Potions assignment. With the occasional groan, the bushy haired girl was obviously having trouble with her homework.

The other Gryffindors in the room started as the sudden scratch of the wooden chair sounded against the highly polished and carpeted floor. They saw the brown haired girl stalk out of the portrait hole with such determination that they all wondered what could possibly have set her off.

Of course, those who knew the girl on one level or another were smart enough to figure out that she was probably pissed out. Most likely it was because she couldn¡¯t figure out that dreadful Potions assignment.

Hermione Granger was indeed pissed. And the Potions assignment had much to do with it. But that wasn¡¯t the only thing that was bothering her. Lately, there just seemed to be too much on her mind. She knew that she should find the time and energy to figure these things out, but she just couldn¡¯t seem to do that.

Her original plan was to go to the library to see if she could find some more information that could help her with that horrendous assignment of hers. Honestly, one hundred and fifty different uses of gillyweed mixed with a quarter pint of wolves-bane. But she just wasn¡¯t feeling up to it. Instead she decided to go out by the lake. Maybe the cool pre-winter atmosphere will blow her worries away for a while.

On the way to the lake, she passed by the Great Hall. As always, the Great Hall was a remarkable sight. The magical ceiling reflected the cool, clear, late-fall sky. The few wisps of clouds circled the caverns of the Great Hall in perfect tranquility, lazy. For as long as Hermione could remember, she had always been in awe of all the magic of this world.

When she had first gotten her letter, her mother and father had thought that someone was playing a nasty joke on their daughter. But then, another letter came from Hogwarts, this time signed by both Professor Mcgonagol and Professor Dumbledore. The letter assured her parents that this was in fact the real deal and that the school would be honored to have such a promising student.

Hermione remembered exactly how she had felt. As a young girl she had always been fascinated with magic and all that was related to it. She never had any real friends, and so always pretended that she was in a magical world, with magical friends, and studying hard on all the subjects that just might have been related to magic. It was part of the reason that she was such a good student at school.

But, as all children learn eventually, magic didn¡¯t exist and it was all just a whole bunch of tricks. Wrong. She had been truly shocked and stunned when she received the letter from Hogwarts. Then, when the shock wore off, she had begged her parents so hard that in the end they were finally convinced and decided to send her to Hogwarts. The three of them had the best time getting Hermione ready for her leave to the most magical school in the world.

Hermione sighed. That seemed so long ago. Centuries ago. But in fact it had only been five summers ago. She had just started her sixth year at Hogwarts now. In a way she wanted to return to that long ago time and relive every moment of it again, and again, and again. And now, with the help of her magic, she knew it was very possible - but it wouldn¡¯t be the same. She was content to let it live within her memory.

Of course no other person knew about this. No one would suspect that the Perfect-Miss-Hermione-Granger would have emotions like this. Yet, the truth was there. Hermione was like any other human being, she had emotions, and she just chose to show a few of them. Like her ambition to become the best sorceress she could possibly be. It was obvious to everyone. It was also one of her most desperate dreams.

She had reached the lake. It was a glossy black, with the faintest signs of ripples flowing in it, but it was soon lost in the black ebony of its icy cold waters. She remembered when she had slipped and fallen into that dark abyss in her first year. No one knew about it except for one person. He had, to Hermione¡¯s utter horror and shock, jumped into the lake to get her out. Hermione couldn¡¯t swim.

The memory made her frown. So far, the person hadn¡¯t told anyone of that little incident. She had specifically begged him not to. Yes, Hermione Granger can beg. It¡¯s not her character, but it was one of those rare times when traits you never knew you had just takes over. The truth was that she had been so terrified of drowning. That spring when she returned home for her break, she was determined to learn how to swim, so that she wouldn¡¯t be forced to face that same embarrassment again.

With another frown, she turned around and faced the Quidditch field. From the distance she could see a group of scarlet bullets zipping in the air - as fast as lightning bolts and deadly agile. She set her footsteps towards the field and the stands. She chose to forget her memories for a while and maybe watch a little practice game of Quidditch.

As she reached the Gryffindor stands, she saw another robed figure sitting on the very top. She saw the fiery red of the figure¡¯s hair. That was all the indication she needed. She started to climb the steps to the top, patiently taking her time.

When she reached the top, the figure turned and waved to her. She waved back and quickly sat by him. Then, as she was looking at the Quidditch players practice, a hand suddenly snaked around her shoulders and pulled her in. The next shock came when soft lips pressed against her cheeks.

She gasped, ¡°RON!¡±

The red-haired boy laughed. That brought the pleasantly rosy color to his smooth pale skin. His electric blue eyes flashed brightly at her.

¡°It¡¯s a good afternoon kiss, what¡¯s so wrong with that?¡± he asked humorously.

Hermione arched her brows. ¡°Since when did you go around giving people good afternoon kisses?¡±

Ron grinned, ¡°Since now.¡±

Hermione scoffed, ¡°Then why don¡¯t you give Harry one?¡±

¡°Nah, Harry doesn¡¯t need me to give him good afternoon kisses. He had Ginny for that and speaking of Harry¡¦¡±

Hermione gasped as a great gust of wind screamed right past her. She had been taken entirely by surprise that she nearly fell off of the stand and Ron had to grab her before it was too late. Once she recovered her stance, she turned and faced the culprit with a deathly silent gaze that said it all.

But Hermione was the only one who wasn¡¯t laughing. Ron was beside himself with laughter and the culprit, who was none other than Harry, was nearly falling off his broom, dieing with laughter.

Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. Hermione rolled her eyes at the pair of Gryffindors laughing in front of her. She looked at Harry, who was now off his broom and practically lying down on the bench, still giggling. His face was flushed from Quidditch practice and now from laughing. Those brilliantly colored green eyes danced behind his dark rimmed glasses. His raven black hair was being tossed around with no mercy, which didn¡¯t really matter since it never stayed in its proper place anyways.

Hermione stared at her two friends. They were some of the few she had. They were more precious to her than they probably realized. Ever since she had first met them on the Hogwarts Express Train, she had the strange feeling of comfort around them. Of course she had not wanted to acknowledge that feeling to total strangers, so she had regarded them as any other individual she would have met.

Not saying that Harry was a total stranger. Ever since her parents had permitted her going to Hogwarts, all three of them had traveled to Diagon Alley and bought all kinds of books which would give Hermione a full cover of the wizard world¡¯s history. And of course Harry Potter was included in a number of the books. Particularly, in books such as The History of Dark Arts by Melissa Artosgan, and Greatest Wizards of the Last Millennia by Gordon Telisimaler.

Finally, Ron and Harry regained their fleeting sanity and stopped laughing. Yet their faces couldn¡¯t erase what seemed like very permanent, very stubborn grins which split across their cheeks to their ears. Puzzled, Hermione raised an eyebrow.

¡°Is something wrong with your faces?¡±

Ron, still grinning, replayed, ¡°No, something¡¯s right with them.¡±

¡°What?¡±

¡°It¡¯s just that you didn¡¯t get scared or surprised so easily lately.¡± Harry clarified, ¡°So Ron and I was just trying to get you to be happy.¡±

¡°Guess it worked,¡± grinned Ron. Hermione wanted to ripe that continuous smile off of his face. But she held back her annoyance with them and changed the subject.

¡°When are you guys going to study?¡±

Surprised, Harry asked. ¡°What¡¯s there to study?¡±

¡°Potions test on Friday,¡± Hermione answered simply.

Ron, sensing Hermione¡¯s efforts to changed the subject, replayed with not much effort, ¡°Nah, but better than the Potions test is the party on Saturday.¡±

Harry face broke into a sly grin. ¡°Yeah, the party¡¦¡±

Confused, Hermione questioned, ¡°What party?¡±

Ron and Harry stared at Hermione. They were indeed surprised at Hermione lack of knowledge to the party. It had been talked about around Hogwarts for weeks. It was a new festival in honor of Professor Lupin¡¯s return to Hogwarts. Professor Lupin had decided to try returning to Hogwarts at the beginning of this past summer, and Professor Dumbledore obviously had no problems with his return.

But, because it was a definite necessity, Professor Dumbledore had announced Professor Lupin¡¯s condition to the school and sent owls to all the students¡¯ parents. After weeks of patient waiting, there was finally enough letters which supported Professor Lupin and his future as a teacher at Hogwarts. Of course there had been a few parents who strongly disagreed with this, but the majority voted in favor of Professor Lupin.

When this was announced to the school once more, the Weasly twins, Fred and George suggested that a celebration of a sort be held in honor of Professor Lupin. Professor Dumbledore liked the idea incredibly and made plans for the celebration to be held on the last weekend of October, which was also the week of Professor Lupin¡¯s birth. The celebration party promised to be grand.

All this Hermione had forgotten. She just hadn¡¯t been herself lately, and all those who knew her noticed her definite change in character. Even Hermione herself couldn¡¯t figure it out. She had promised herself that she would be alright and that if she could she would find out what was bothering her and fix it. But still she hadn¡¯t gotten a grasp as to what that ¡®thing¡¯ was.

But she did know that it had something to do with Him.

He was the reason she was having all this uneasy feeling, a reason she wanted to find out desperately. Just seeing him, even a glance, made her heart scream out with unexpressed agony which tore her soul to threads.

She looked at Ron, who was talking animatedly to Harry about the party soon to come. Both boys had temporarily forgotten that Hermione was there. This fact didn¡¯t really bother her though for it gave her time to think.

As she looked upon the boys, one boy in particular, her thoughts strayed to him again. What would they think of me, if they knew of my feelings? Can they notice my reactions whenever he comes near me, whenever I see him? Would they think that I¡¯m just over reacting? Are my feelings a warning of what¡¯s to come? Will it be bad? What is all this? Why?

Finally, Hermione gave up.

She had had enough of this for today. It seemed that it was all she was doing lately, which was the truth. She stood up and started going down the stands.

¡°Hey, Hermione! Where¡¯re you going?¡±

She turned around to face Ron. ¡°I¡¯m going back to my dorm.¡±

¡°But, wait¡¦¡± Ron started to get up, but she gestured for him to stay. Reluctantly, he did so. She turned around and continued down the steps when she met up with Ginny. The young Weasly girl had grown up quite remarkably during the past year, a truly beautiful creature. She had captured the minds of quite a number of young youths, but her mind was focused on only one.

Ginny greeted Hermione with the usual bright smile, ¡°Hi! Where are you going?¡±

Hermione smiled in return, ¡°Oh, just back to the dorms. Tired.¡±

¡°Oh, well then, I¡¯ll see you later,¡± she nodded. Hermione knew that whenever Ginny said this she meant that she was going to go see Harry. Of course there were those exceptional times, but it was almost always to see Harry. And he didn¡¯t seem to mind Ginny; in fact he seemed to actually like her now. It was no surprise either, since she had really grown up.

With a sigh, Hermione quickly headed down the stands and was soon through the doors of the Great Hall. Ron watched her as the great door closed behind her. Then he switched his attention to Harry and Ginny who just arrived.

After a few moments, Harry and Ginny decided to go to Hagrid¡¯s house to say hello before dinner. Ron told them to go, said he wanted to stay a while then head back to his dorm as well. They agreed and left.

Now that he was alone, Ron had the chance to think. His idle thoughts eventually lead to thoughts about Hermione. He knew that time was running out. He had to tell her as soon as possible before it was too late. But for some reason, he couldn¡¯t bring himself to.

Telling her promised to bring a number of problems to him, and to her. If she knew, her life would really start getting harder, even if it was just with the knowledge of it. But, knowledge is dangerous, especially with this. So, no matter what, he couldn¡¯t tell her.

Yet, he knew that the more he waited, the more she was at risk. He felt it. He breathed the possibility of it every day, every hour, every minute she was away from him. For when she was out of his sight, or Harry¡¯s, she was in the danger zone. He couldn¡¯t let the danger catch her.

On a hunch, Ron decided to head back to the dorms early. He had to find her. Had to be with her, for some reason, he just had to be. Something didn¡¯t feel right. Definitely not right. He just desperately hoped it wasn¡¯t what he thought it to be¡¦