Tired

A/N: Random one-shot that just came to mind and wouldn't go away. Sorry about the shortness. It's becoming easier for me to just write something at my fancy. Which is a new thing for me. Ah, well. During POA obviously. Ron's musings on Hermione.

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I've been glimpsing Hermione out of the corner of my eye these days. Today, like every other bloody day, she's working. And her eyes are drooping. She needs sleep. I can see it.

I'm not going to tell her. But I'm not going to talk to her. She got Harry's Firebolt taken away to be "stripped down".

Stripped down? What the fuck are they going to do to it? I can only imagine that Flitwick and McGonagall are tearing it apart. The thought makes me shudder. A Firebolt! Being stripped down in its prime! I refuse to speak to her.

She looks lonely across the room by herself.

She's been alone more this year. Keeps getting on my nerves. Our pets do not get along, and it's that damn cat's fault. Bloody ginger bastard.

I realize it probably says the same thing about me when I kick it.

Ah, well. It needs kicking. Stupid animal. It keeps trying to eat poor innocent Scabbers. What did Scabbers ever do? Nothing. He sleeps and is generally useless. So what's that stupid cat got against him?

It would be okay if she didn't always take its side.

"It's part of his nature, Ron."

Yes. It's part of it's nature to be a rat murderer. But Scabbers can't even be considered a rat. He doesn't do anything.

She's holed herself up in her room or the library most days, studying, I suppose. Working for that extra point. She's insane. It's not as if she needs it. Her grades are perfectly fine. But she's been working harder this year. And taking more courses.

Always reading and writing. I walk closer under the guise of getting warm by the fire and find she's doing something with numbers. Arithmancy.

Not that I know how she's getting to that class. It's the same time as Care of Magical Creatures. How is she doing all these classes?

She's got a neat pile of books and parchment in front of her. I don't know how she's keeping up with all the work. They all sound like hard courses.

Like Muggle Studies. What the hell is she doing taking Muggle Studies? She grew up a Muggle! She doesn't need that! But I see her sitting, writing an essay. Or reading a chapter about some nonsense about sports that don't seem to be any sort of fun. Like football, that stupid game Dean's always blathering on about.

That's another class she can't possibly be in either. They're at the same time as Divination. But Ernie MacMillan said that she never misses a class. How the hell is she doing that?

I wish that I could ask her. But even if we were talking, which we aren't, then she'd just change the subject. That's what she always does. She won't give me a straight answer on anything.

I sigh. She briefly looks up as if in thought. But perhaps she's listening. She's sly that way. Harry says he's going to bed and I go up too. But I've left my wand, so I head back down.

And I catch Hermione crying on whatever she's doing. I stop dead and just watch.

She's exhausted. And someone needs to lecture her for a change. About relaxing. She doesn't need the stress. I feel a pull to lecture her myself, but I get the feeling she would tell me to bugger off.

Actually, she'd tell me to mind my own business because I obviously don't care about her affairs really and -

I just want her to stop crying. I'd rather have her fight with me than cry. But it would come to the same end.

So I'm stuck, standing stock-still, not wanting her to see me and try to hide everything. She shouldn't need to hide that from us. I don't know whether to let her cry it out and come down or just to leave my wand down there. But I need to know that she sleeps. That she stops crying. That she'll be alright without us.

But she doesn't look up. She falls asleep crying. I get my wand and use a charm to lift her onto the nearest couch, hoping I won't bugger it up and drop her. When her body makes it, I pile her books and homework neatly next to her, so she might forget that she wasn't on the couch the night before when she wakes up.

I know she needs someone to care about her and not let her wallow in her exhaustion.

I know she needs me and Harry.

I know that McGonagall better give back that Firebolt soon, because I don't know how much longer I can stand seeing her like this.