Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. That is totally JK Rowling's idea and we all know it.

Pain. Excruciating pain; Hermione's whole body was leaden and sent waves of a familiar searing, burning sensation. With the little energy she had left, she attempted to sit up, only to find that someone was one step ahead of her and knocked her out just after delivering her a full dose of the Petrificus Totalus spell. "Fifth time this week- where's a mad three-headed dog when you need it most," she asked herself in a hoarse mumble. "Bloody spells."

Finally, the spell slowly began to wear off. In the distance, three mellow, almost meloncholy chimes from the old bell in the Great Hall's tower sounded out while Hermione furiously tried to take the effect of the Totalus spell off faster. As the immobility began to fade from her toes and eventually to the top of her head, the white-hot only seemed to increase. Silently cursing, she lifted herself carefully from the ground, brushed her robes from loose, autumn grass, then sped off to Herbology, realizing she was already thirty minutes late to class.

"Geez, where were you, Hermione?" asked Ron. There was definitely a dark, worried look cast over him. Hermione realized she must have looked dreadful; after all, getting beaten with a dozen broomsticks then frozen with a Petrificus Totalus spell and made all the more unconscious with a blow to the head with a rock, nobody can actually expect to look undisturbed. Juggling a stack of weighty books and a sliver of an orange for breakfast, she dragged herself towards the nearest barrel of water kept for watering the plants and looked down. Purplish black bruises work perfectly well alongside mud smears and oozing scratches, Hermione thought to herself. Meanwhile, Ron was still in panic. "That evil Professor Sprout. She's gone and assigned each of us those muggle plants that eats other live things- Venus trappy somethings- so we could get a taste of what kinds of plants they have. She's mad. Honestly, who would ever want to know about a carniverous plant? Besides, if I get bitten by that thing..."

Hermione sighed and shook her once clean, grime-free hair in exhaustion and a bit of reassurance. "Relax, Ronald. I, for one, am a muggle-born witch. Number two, I really doubt that it'll lure you to it with sweet smelling nectars, bite off your finger, then secrete enzymes to dissolve it. They can't possibly be any worse than the Devil's Snare six years ago anyway."

"Yeah, but no bloody way-"

"It's not that bad."

"It is!"

"No it's not. Look, I'm touching it."

"Fine, touch it all you want, but don't whine about your poisonous infection later."

Hermione sighed and gazed at the tall figure. Ron had grown surprisingly over the summer. Just in the last few months, he exceeded both Charlie and Bill's height, both of which had all the Weasley features. Physically he seemed as though he was either brother's clone from a distance, but mentally, he still was very Fred-and-George influenced. Harry waltzed over just then, carrying his Venus fly trap plant with his Hufflepuff partner, Ernie Macmillian. "Hey Hermione.. I heard that this was part of our O.W.Ls, but they just haven't told us formerly yet. What do you reckon?"

"Look, I don't know, okay? I've gotten ambushed by the infamous Malfoy crew once again."

Harry, Ernie, and Ron huddled closer, looking startled and concerned. "What, again?" Harry asked in hushed tones. Hermione numbly shook her head, yes. "Can't you tell?" she added, pointing to the painful gash on her filthy, grass stained arm.