**
CHAPTER ONE: TO LOVE SOMEBODY
\ \I live and breathe for you/ but what good does it do/ if I ain't got you/ ain't got you/You don't know what it's like baby/oh, no/you don't know what its like/to love somebody/to love somebody/the way I love you. //
+The Beegees+
Hermione Granger let out a sigh of frustration and ran her fingers through her brown, bushy hair. It was getting late, and it was time for her to make an incredibly difficult decision: what to do with herself after school.
School meant many things to Hermione. It wasn't just Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where she was the new Head Girl. It was important to her. Hermione loved academia. She always made the highest grades of her year.
School also meant Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, her two best friends. They were every bit important to her as academics—if not more.
But at the moment, she was holed up in the Head Boy and Girls' common room, flipping through a thick booklet. She had so many possibilities! Healer at St. Mungo's, Professor, Auror, Department of Mysteries, Gringott's bank…anything I want! she thought excitedly.
Ron had told her many times that she was wasting a lot of her time. It was only September, and they had until February to make up their minds. But Hermione was adamant about choosing as soon as possible. That way, she wouldn't be rushing at the last moment and making a rash decision at the last second, one she might regret later.
"Typical Hermione," Harry had teased her. And he was right. This was typical of her. But she didn't care.
I am really interested in Healing, she mused. But being a professor doesn't sound too bad, either. But if I choose to be a professor, I'd have to subject to focus on.
And Harry and Ron thought I was crazy for doing this so early! she thought with a grin.
Just then the door to the common room and the Head Boy stepped in. "Hey, Hermione," he greeted casually.
"Hi, Harry," Hermione answered back.
It hadn't come as a surprise to Hermione that Harry had been appointed Head Boy. He was an incredibly talented wizard and was actually quite intelligent. Hermione felt that if he applied himself more, his grades could be better than hers—well, maybe. But every time she brought this up with him, he grumbled and rolled his eyes and told her to be quiet.
"You're still up?" he asked, peering over her shoulder at the booklet.
"Yeah, but I'm going to go to bed soon."
"All right. I'll see you in the morning?"
"Definitely. Good night, Harry."
"'Night, Hermione," he replied. He gave her shoulders a squeeze, then crossed the common room and went inside his private dorm.
Hermione watched him, knowing how fortunate she was. She'd been honoured to be named Head Girl. As a reward for her achievements and previous tasks, she was granted the use of the Head Boy and Girls' Suite. In it, set apart slightly from the rest of the Gryffindor tower, was two bedrooms, each with a small en suite bathroom, connected by a small common room. Of course, the Gryffindor common room was always more enjoyable, with all the Gryffindors always about, but when she needed some real peace and quiet, this little one would come in handy.
If Harry hadn't become Head Boy, she would've had the entire Suite to herself—both rooms included. It was rare that the Head Boy and Head Girl came from the same house in the same year, but the school was obviously prepared for such occasions.
Besides, I love sharing this suite with him, Hermione thought, turning back to her booklet. I couldn't ask for more in a best friend.
Harry was smart, cute—5'10, messy jet black hair and brilliantly green eyes—and completely understood her. She didn't always need to tell him exactly what she was thinking in order for him to comprehend what was going on.
Unlike Ron, she thought with a giggle. Ron was the complete opposite. He always meant well and had a heart of gold, but Ron had a complete lack of understanding girls. Which is why he's gone from girlfriend to girlfriend in the last few years.
Still, she cared for Ron plenty. He too was smart—but cared about school even less than Harry—he was funny and wasn't bad on the eyes, either, with flaming red hair, bright blue eyes and a winning smile.
I'm lucky to have both of them, she admitted.
Hermione yawned hugely and glanced at her watch. It was quarter to twelve, and she had class early the next morning.
Yawning again, she closed her book and dropped it on the table.
Tomorrow, she promised herself as she ambled to her room.
*
"Hermione! Hurry up! You're going to be late!" Harry shouted through the door.
"Just a minute!" she shouted back.
Harry leaned against the frame. "I keep telling you not to stay up so late reading that damn booklet," he reprimanded her. "You'll be late for breakfast."
Finally the door clicked open. "I'm ready," she said coyly.
"About time. C'mon, let's go."
Together they took a short cut across the Suite and ended up in the hallway. "You know, you do have several months to make your decision," he reminded her gently.
"I know that. I just want to be prepared."
Harry grinned. "It's only our second week back."
"Yes, but we're going to be so busy. You especially. Between homework and N.E.W.T.s, being Head Boy and Quidditch Captain, you've got a lot to do this year. And you haven't even made up your mind about what you want to do," she added before he could reply.
"It's still between being an Auror and playing Quidditch. But I have plenty of time to make up my mind."
Hermione sighed and dropped the subject. Finally, after all these years, she understood when to give up.
"Tell you what," he said quickly. "This weekend, how about you and I sit down and talk about this? We'll invite Ron, too. Maybe we can make up our minds." He doubted it, but at least it was somewhat of a compromise.
"All right," Hermione agreed, looking mollified. "I'll talk to Professor McGonagall. Maybe she has some extra booklets on careers or advice, or maybe she can—"
Harry's attention drifted as Hermione rambled on. It was so hard to believe how far they'd come. They were good friends from their first year at Hogwarts, but Ron had always been his absolute best friend. He never considered her romantically. Harry even thought that she was better suited for Ron.
Things changed in their fifth year. Harry's world was upside down and he didn't know how to deal with it. Hermione and Ron tried to be there for him, but in the end, Hermione was the one who'd gotten through to him. And that's when the romantic feelings began towards her.
For a large portion of their sixth year, he kept these feelings underwrap. No one knew of them, least of all Hermione. But when he finally got the courage to tell her, he was pleasantly surprised: she felt the same way.
The relationship had lasted only a few months. They broke up because it was putting a strain on them and everyone around them. They'd hope that the break-up would put an end to all of that, but they had been wrong.
Very wrong.
Over a year later, the old relationship still effected every part of their born anew friendship. They could still open up to each other but found it came at a great personal cost. And when they'd both tried to move on, neither were successful: Hermione's relationship with Ravenclaw Terry Boot ended on bad terms; Harry's relationship with Parvati Patil lasted a few months before she accused him of still loving Hermione and broke up with him.
What a disaster.
And what was worse, Harry wasn't 100% convinced he was over Hermione. He still thought about her a lot—maybe too much—and he hated the thought of her with some other guy. So, in truth, Parvati's accusation wasn't far off base.
Some desparate part of him hoped that she felt the same way and that they would get back together. The more realistic side of him realized that it was, in fact, over between them.
"Hey, hurry up, slowpoke!" Hermione suddenly called out. Harry shook himself out of his daze and realized he'd fallen several steps behind her.
As he ran to catch up to her, she started laughing. Inspired, he charged towards her. She screamed with delight as his body pinned hers to the wall.
"Harry!" she exclaimed, giggling. "I wish you wouldn't do that."
They laughed. This had been one of their favourite games as a couple. If she was still his girlfriend, they would've started kissing by now.
But she wasn't. Harry stepped back, releasing her. Instead they exchanged grins and jogged the rest of the way to the dining hall.
Okay, so maybe they weren't together anymore. Maybe they weren't in love with each other—at least, maybe they weren't supposed to be. But they were friends again, and this meant more to Harry than he really understood.
He loved her, and he always would. Sometimes it meant he was in love with, sometimes it tore him up that they weren't together. Sometimes it meant he loved her as a friend, and no matter what, they'd always have each other.
Nothing would ever bring them apart. Ever.
**
It was cold, colder than any normal person would've put up with. But he wasn't what you'd call normal. He was barely what you'd call a person.
The air was frigid, and there was no hope of him starting a fire. A fire would give him and his hideout away—and after all this time, he would not let this happen.
He sat on his stone chair is silence. Though many days had passed since he had last eaten something, hunger was the last thing on his mind. He was obsessed…beyond obsessed…
"Soon," he said aloud. The hiss slithered around the otherwise empty room like a snake.
All he needed was a bit more time. A few more months. Then he would strike. This time, Harry Potter would not get away. No one would be able to help him. At last, he would triumph over that Potter, and then no one would be in his way.
Voldemort leaned back in his chair, an evil smirk spreading across his face. "Soon," he repeated.