A/N: *scratches head* I'm determined to get all this inspiration out of me into this story.

The plot line will semi go along with the drabble I had done last night, since I am not too happy with that, but you know…I love me my Dramione.

This really doesn't fit along with Voldy-world. So let's just … Yea. I think you get the picture. If you like it for the adventure, and the fighting between death eaters, and not, it won't really be found in this story at all! My apologies. I'm pretty much more of a writer with ideas from pre-OOTP as horrible as it is. This is just how I was brought up as a HP fan, and as horribly to say as it is, I am one of the old folks that just stayed in that mentality. While I did keep up with the storyline, books, movies, it just wasn't ever the same, so please excuse me.

Chapter 1 : Not Quite the Right Fit

Hermione Granger, a simple and plain girl many would say. She had curly brown hair that had been tamed down, and bright chocolate brown eyes surrounded by lush lashes. Many wouldn't notice, as her hair usually frizzed all around, covering them, but it had since then been controlled, when she took a little bit more pride into her look. Especially now that she was in seventh year. And also, because she had a boyfriend to please – was that even a worthy reason? Her boyfriend is Ronald Weasley. He probably didn't even notice anything she did in attempts to impress him: a little extra mascara would go unnoticed, a new hairstyle would be oblivious to the boy. Even extra gloss, or a dress. Nothing! It just useless attempts. Was it because she didn't have the same boasting attitude that caught a room's attention like Angelina had, when she used to attend Hogwarts? Or the glimmer and glitz that followed the ditz of Lavender Brown (not to mention her formfitting clothes, that were always a bit too low-cut and skirts that were too short – guys like that, right?) And Hermione wasn't as whimsical as Luna was either. Or as charming as—she sighed, and stopped. Looking at the clock, it was already well into the evening, and Ron hadn't owled her like he had originally promised.

Deciding to take it into her own hands, Hermione quickly put on a sweater, and yelled to her mother, "I'm going to the Burrow!" Her parents, knowing of her witching habits such as this mysterious 'Floo powder', and suddenly being able to transport themselves to other places through chimneys, replied with a knowing blur of an answer through the house. It was most confusing, and not of what they were used to, but it really can't be helped. But they knew their daughter was intelligent, and knew of the magical ways much more than they could ever comprehend.

Grabbing a handful of the Floo powder, she threw it into her chimney as she shouted "The Burrow!" and ended up right through the Weasley's homely kitchen, knocking into George Weasley as she made her entrance.

"Oh hullo, wasn't expecting you today," George laughed as the girl coughed through all the ash. "At least I was kind of here to cushion you, yes?" He threw his arm playfully around Hermione, and ushered her towards the main area of the kitchen. "Want a drink? Or an early dinner perhaps?"

"No, no, what do you mean you weren't expecting me today? Ron was supposed to invite me over, but never did. Is he around at all?" Hermione dusted herself off and whirled around, getting George's arm off her as she looked around the seemingly empty house. George tried to play it off coolly, but his face gave him away, as it suspiciously paled, as he stuttered something about his sibling being rather busy. "Nevermind, George." She walked over to the all-knowing Weasley clock to see that Ron's was pointed straight to HOME.

Hermione sighed and eyed George carefully, a glare that meant she was about to knock him out with some spells or whatnot, if he didn't answer, and George was smart enough not to cross an angry Granger when the time was right. "He's in his room, but I think it'd be wise to kn—"

She took the stairs quickly, and tried to open the door to Ron's room, but it was locked. Her eyes narrowed more, if possible, and she knocked hard on Ron's door, her wary feeling not going away as it was awkwardly quiet in this house today. Not a bustling sound through the usually busy cozy burrow.

"What do you want? I said lemmealone!" Ron's muffles were heard through the door, sounding rather rushed and irritated, which only made Hermione try to open the door harder but there was a spell on it that even an Alohamora wouldn't open. The twins must have given him something to keep this door locked, some sort of charm or whatnot.

Hermione finally spoke sternly, even if he wasn't really paying attention. "Ronald Weasley, open up right this moment!"

There was an awkward pause of a few minutes, before Ronald Weasley opened up the door a tiny bit, allowing the person on the other side no visual of what was behind him. With his hair all messed up, pajama clothes on, Ron had a rather startled expression on his face, as he sounded genuinely surprised, "I wasn't expecting you to be here at all, especially today!"

Her arms immediately crossed, when he didn't immediately hug her, or invite her into his room (Not that he usually did anyway), but the fact that she had tried to take a step towards him, and Ron didn't move at all, which was all the more suspicious. "Did you forget about our date? You said you'd owl me a time for me to come over, or we'd go out to Hogsmeade."

"Oh, I guess I forgot, but you know me," He said a little rushed, sheepishly scratching at his head, but he made no move to go aside. I'm kind of tired right now, you know, maybe come back later? Or talk to George while I nap? Or something of the sort—"

Hermione grabbed onto her boyfriend's arm, feigning care, and batted her eyelashes, "But whatever do you mean? You know I'd love nothing more than to read a story to myself, while you nap. I don't mind at all!" Her voice nearing a higher pitch, as she finished that statement. "But I suppose if you don't want me around..." She dropped his hand, and sulked for a moment. When Ron reacted to this, and moved forward to hold her in subconscious consolation, a mischievous look appeared on her face and she pushed through the door, only to see a very, very embarrassed Lavender, who had an expression of a deer caught in headlights. When her fellow housemate bustled through into the room, Lavender threw the blankets from Ron's bed over herself, and it was quite obvious what had been going on. Her eyes dropped to the ground and she saw the girl's clothes strewn all across and she screamed, "Augh! I can't believe this."

What had she really been expecting though? A surprise that Ron possibly would've been working on for their first anniversary? Not that he was really one to remember things like that anyway... What was on her mind? Hermione ran out quickly, running down the stairs, not even bothering to stop at the weak call of her name that echoed down the staircase. She couldn't be here anymore. Without another thought, she apparated from the kitchen to entrance of the Three Broomsticks in anger. She hadn't known where else to go at this time of the day, and she didn't want to go home.

'I can't believe I just caught Ron cheating on me. Almost after an entire year!' Tears were on the verge of pouring, but pride refrained her from letting the tears flow out at this exact moment. Hermione walked into the Three Broomsticks alone, avoiding anyone who would possibly notice a girl in her lonesome. It was holidays after all, and someone was bound to recognize her, but her head was down, trying to conceal her identity. Hermione made her way to the bar, and asked quickly for a butterbeer.

Someone had made their way over to her, unknowingly, until he murmured, "Hermione, your drink is here." Her head shot up quickly, a little red-eyed at the moment, looking Neville Longbottom in the eye.

"Oh hello, Neville. Wasn't really, wanting to speak to anyone, you know," the sniffle in her speech gave her state away quickly. Rubbing at any wetness in her eyes away, she took a swig of her butterbeer.

"Do you want me to leave you alone?" The tentative friend questioned, not wanting to press any boundaries. He was always very cautious with friends.

Hermione stayed silent, pondering on this question as she stared into the butterbeer. "No, that's much worse," She decided. "I think I just really need to talk to a friend right now."

"What happened?"

And with such a simple phrase, Hermione burst into tears, and drowned herself in some drinks for the rest of the night while Neville tried his best to console her, even though all he could do was listen to her woes.

A/N: I appreciate any and all reviews, any criticisms etc. :-) And if you want the story to take a certain turn, I will try to incorporate it. It will be HGDM but he's not around just yet!