Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or associated characters. I'm not JKR or Scholastic or Bloomsbury Books. Also, Spindle's End, which I quote, is owned by Robin McKinley, not me! I do own Stanley Goatshep, and Alexandra and Sophia Nott a.k.a. Moondrift. So ask nicely before you use them!

Hermione's Secret

Part 1

Hermione shut her diary and hid it under her pillow. Pouring her feelings into it always left her exhausted but strangely satisfied. There was only one thing or one person actually, that she wrote about. It was something no one knew. She couldn't tell Ginny or Harry or especially not Ron. Ginny Weasley (who had guessed Hermione's recent infatuation with Seamus Finnigan almost before Hermione even knew it herself)-her best friend- didn't know this secret…

~*~‚ ~*~

As she went to Transfiguration, Hermione caught sight of the fiery glow that could only be Weasley hair. It was the head of the sixth and youngest Weasley son, Ron, shining bright as the sun. In fact, Ron was the sun for Hermione. The sun, moon, earth, and stars... No one knew. No one but Hermione and her diary-- so she thought. Unbeknownst to Hermione, Minerva McGonagall knew, and she intended to do something about it.

Hermione sat down at a desk in Transfiguration. "Hi, Hermione!" Harry slid into the empty seat beside her.

"Oh, hullo, Harry," she answered. Her heart fell as Ron walked into the room and took a seat beside Lavender Brown. If only Harry hadn't sat next to her...

"Good morning class!" In walked Professor McGonagall. "Today, we will be transfiguring toadstools into toads," she said while gesturing toward a large disgusting pile of fungi. "Neville, if you will be so kind, pass out toadstools please." She surveyed the room with a quick glance. "Miss Patil, please put away that copy of How I Fell in Love with a Werewolf and pay attention." Parvati blushed a deep crimson. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, kindly switch seats. Dean, spit out that gum this instant. Ah... NOW we're ready to begin."

Harry gave Hermione a puzzled glance as he stood to switch desks with Ron. Why would McGonagall want Harry and Ron to switch seats? A dawn of understanding broke over Hermione. McGonagall remembered; that was it. She never had forgotten walking in on the Gryffindor's Muggle game of "Spin the Bottle." Late one night, a year ago- their fifth year- McGonagall walked in on Harry kissing Hermione as a dare in the Gryffindor common room. Fred had already kissed Angelina, and George- Alicia, Ron- Hermione, Seamus- Alicia and Ginny, Harry had also kissed Ginny, and Dean- and Lee Jordan- Angelina. It had been wonderful. Hermione had gotten her first kiss… from Ron! "And now he probably doesn't care, if he even remembers..." she thought.

"Miss Granger!" McGonagall startled Hermione into full consciousness. "Would you care telling us what is so much more absorbing than learning Transfiguration? This WILL be on exams..."

"Well... er..."

"Miss Granger, an explanation would be nice..."

"I'm sorry, Professor. I was just wondering how it's possible to transform something into another object that has a completely different biological composition..."

"Well, if you are that intrigued, you may write a paper on it for me, due Friday. Now, back to our lesson..."

~*~‚ ~*~

Hermione was glad once THAT class was over. McGonagall was being rather cruel. After Arithmancy (which was an excruciatingly long hour away from Ron, even though it was her favorite subject), she had lunch. It was not soon enough. Hermione sat by Ron at the table. "Hi Ron!"

"Hullo, Hermione. How was class?" Ron asked. "Wait! Don't tell me! I don't want to listen to even a condensed version of today's Arithmancy lesson!" Harry and Seamus roared with laughter.

"Fine!" Hermione huffed. She turned away from them.

"Aw, Hermione, you know I was just kidding," Ron took her hand with an earnest look on his face. "I'm sorry."

Hermione was turning red. "Alright, you're forgiven." She thought Ron would drop her hand, but he did not. "Um, Ron? I sort of need that hand to eat," she said so only he could hear her.

This time it was Ron's turn to blush.

Later that day, Hermione was surprised to see an envelope stuck to her room's door. She opened the envelope and found a note from Professor McGonagall:

Hermione,

See me in my office tonight at

8 PM sharp. Don't worry;

you're not in trouble.

-M. McGonagall

~*~‚ ~*~

Hours later, Hermione stood outside the door to McGonagall's office. She did not know what was going on. Why would McGonagall want to see her? She braced herself for whatever it was and knocked.

"Hermione dear, thank you for coming," McGonagall answered the door. "Come in and sit down," she said, gesturing toward a comfortable-looking overstuffed chair near the fireplace.

Hermione perched nervously on the edge of the chair.

"Would you like cream or sugar?" McGonagall asked, pouring Hermione a cup of tea.

"Um... sugar. Two lumps," Hermione answered. She accepted the cup of tea. "Professor, why did you ask me here?"

"Must one always have a motive, dear?" she asked in return. "Could I not simply be inviting a favorite student to tea?"

"You don't have favorites. That's one of the first things I learned about you."

"Oh, but I do," McGonagall countered. "I just hide it well. You do happen to be one of them."

"Oh," Hermione said, for once, rendered speechless. "But you didn't invite me to tea just because of that," she finally responded.

"Alright, you caught me. Well, there is a motive. I want to tell you a story," McGonagall announced.

"Tell me a story?" Hermione repeated incredulously.

"Yes, a story," McGonagall answered with a look. "Years ago, here at Hogwarts, much store was still put into prophecies. I attended Hogwarts in those times; so did Arthur Weasley, James and Lily Potter- though she wasn't Lily Potter then- and Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black, Hagrid, and Dumbledore was a very young new professor... Also Professor Snape and Tom Riddle were attending," she paused for effect as Hermione shivered at the mere mention of the young Lord Voldemort's name. "In our generation, Sibyl Trelawney's mother was the Divination teacher. Unlike Sibyl, Agnes- that was her mother's name- was a true seer. She had visions with terrifying clarity. She was never wrong. Only once, just once, she was. That's actually excellent odds for a seer, but you can imagine how devastating it could be for the parties who were involved. Now that's just the first part of the story. Now on to another story about someone you know..."

"Since his first year at Hogwarts, Arthur Weasley had been in love with the most intelligent, overachieving girl at Hogwarts- she was much like you, in fact. It wasn't until his seventh year that he finally decided to do something about it. Arthur gave his soul to this girl. He loved her, and she loved him too. Theirs was a once-in-a-lifetime love, one that would last forever. Only it didn't. Agnes Trelawney had a vision of the young couple. She claimed that on their honeymoon, Arthur would be killed by an evil former schoolmate if they went through with the wedding they were planning. So they cried, begged, pleaded, and hopelessly fought with all the professors and high-ranking Ministry officials to no avail. They were separated and never saw each other until years later when the pain had somewhat lessened," McGonagall paused to take a breath.

"Oh, that's horrid! Absolutely horrid! No wonder no one puts store in Divination anymore!" Hermione cried.

McGonagall stared at Hermione with a look of weariness. "It is horrid, dear, but I'm not finished. You of course know that Arthur got over this girl and eventually married Molly. Well, the girl received a proposal from a very... kind man a few months after Arthur was taken away from her. She, deciding she would never love anyone as she loved Arthur, accepted his proposal. After all, Stanley Goatshep was a wonderful person, if a bit boring. So after their wedding, they went to Majorca for their honeymoon. There, Stanley, a high-ranking official in the Ministry of Magic, was made Voldemort's first victim. So the prophecy was true, but Agnes had just predicted it for the wrong person."

"That is HORRID!" Hermione burst out. "It wasn't meant for Mr. Weasley! It was meant for Stanley because of his job! Agnes was so wrong! How horrid! Now I know why I will never trust Divination!"

"Hermione, dear, please calm down. It was a long time ago, and it's all over now."

"That poor girl! She must still love Mr. Weasley. I know Mr. Weasley must still love her. Sometimes when a certain place or phrase comes up, he gets this sad look in his eyes... I never understood it before. That poor girl… How could you ever stop loving someone?"

"Oh, she still loves him, dear," McGonagall murmured sadly.

~*~‚ ~*~

Hermione hurried dazedly back to Gryffindor Tower. "Hogwash!" she said to the Fat Lady, then stepped through the portrait hole. It was late and the common room appeared empty. She hurried toward the girls' dormitory staircase, but something stopped her.

"Hermione, wait!" called a voice Hermione would know anywhere.

"Yes Ron? What is it?" she inquired. "Please make it quick because I have a lot to process."

Ron looked somewhat taken aback. "Well, what is it, Hermione? It must be a whopper if you won't even talk to me about it..."

"It's McGonagall," she sighed. "She told me the strangest- and saddest- story, and I don't know why."

"Well, what was it about?" Ron asked.

"It was about…" Hermione trailed off looking at his handsome freckled face as she realized the story had been about his father. She could not tell him. She could never accept it if her father was in love with someone besides her mother, and she doubted Ron could either. "None of your business! Honestly, Ron Weasley! Your expect me to tell you everything! I won't! Why are you being so nosy lately?"

"ME being nosy! Great Wizards, Hermione! Forgive me for simply being concerned! What is wrong with YOU? You have been so moody lately! You hardly talk to me anymore! Honestly, you haven't confided in me in ages! Hermione, what is WRONG with you?" Ron cried.

"What's wrong with ME?" Hermione shouted in a rage. "What is wrong with YOU, Ron Weasley? You're so suddenly interested in my life when three hours ago you couldn't string together enough words to ask how my day went? I DON'T THINK SO!"

"I can't string together a few words? What about you? We haven't had a real conversation in MONTHS! We-"

"Would you SHUT UP? I think I hear McGonagall coming!" Hermione snapped.

"No, I will NOT shut up! Maybe if McGonagall is coming she can help us solve this. I need all the help I can get figuring you out!"

"Figuring me out?" Hermione's voice had taken on a deadly tone that Ron had only heard once before- when Hermione slapped Malfoy in their third year. She started shouting anew. "JUST WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!" It was worse than a Howler. "WHAT MAKES YOU THINK YOU ARE SO EASY TO FIGURE OUT? RON, YOU ARE THE MOST PIGHEADED, STUPID, ANNOYING GIT I HAVE EVER--!"

In one swift movement, Ron cut off her tirade. He grabbed her shoulders and pressed his lips firmly to hers. All noise ceased as Hermione stopped fighting Ron and went limp in his arms. He took this as a sign of some sort and with no backward glance, tore up the staircase to the boys' dormitory.

"Oh, my…" Hermione sank onto the couch, not believing what had happened.

~*~‚ ~*~

To be continued…