For AStitchedUpHeart's Page Number Challenge: The Prisoner of Azkaban, page 292, Option 2 and for The Wand Competition: Beech – Write a story with Hermione as the main character.

Hope you like fluff and friendship‼! :D Enjoy!

Of Firebolts and Friendships

Snow was falling gracefully from the sky, the flakes following the shifting winds as they blew against the outside of the castle walls and through the village, where quaint cottages sat in neat little rows. A good foot of snow had fallen during the previous evening during a raging storm, but the multitude of students coming down to Hogsmeade for the first time in the new year had stomped it down to a hard crust over the cobbled-stoned street. Other parts of the high street were either muddy or iced over from the great multitude of heated cloaks that had traced paths over them.

Students hurried to and from the shops, laughing with their friends and chatting over their latest woes and achievements. The infamous Weasley twins dragged a couple of others into Zonko's Joke Shop, causing a bit of a ruckus, but soon the street was empty and quiet.

Hermione Granger sat alone at a small table in the back of the Three Broomsticks, sipping a mug of Butterbeer delicately and gazing longingly out the small, thin window to the snow-dusted trees and the thick blanket of white that lay untouched behind the pub. It was the second week of February, nearly Valentines Day, and she felt homesick.

She hadn't gone home for the holidays because her parents had met up with a long-lost cousin of her father's whom they had met during their summer trip to France. He had offered his cottage on the coast to her parents, but Hermione had not been invited. It was apparently an 'adults only' vacation, not to mention the fact that the cousin didn't like children much.

Personally, Hermione hadn't liked him much either. The man was married to a snobby woman (whom he adored and catered to her every whim) who only cared about her sleek blonde hair and the price of clothing. The lady had taken one look at Hermione's bushy brown hair and jumper, and said a curt goodbye, saying she needed to get out of the sun.

Hermione scoffed, remembering the lady's simpering voice and short, tight clothing. The woman had been entirely unpleasant and Hermione was quite glad she had not been forced to take a two-week vacation with such a woman.

Taking another sip of steaming Butterbeer, Hermione turned her thoughts back to her parents. She had of course stayed at school for the winter holidays the year before, but her homesickness had been eclipsed by the thrill of adventure and mystery that surrounded the Chamber of Secrets, the excitement of brewing the Polyjuice Potion, and the subsequent fiasco where she spent over a month in the Hospital Wing with fur and a tail.

For the winter holidays of her third year, Hermione had been looking forward to playing chess with the boys (she could at least beat Harry, even if Ron was far too good in her opinion), reading up on more information for Hagrid's hearing with Buckbeak, and the splendor of the castle around Christmastime.

She had indeed enjoyed the air of Christmas around the castle, and felt like she had made enormous headway with Buckbeak's case, but the unexpected arrival of the Firebolt had all but ruined the season. She had only been trying to help, but her efforts had simply made her two best friends terribly angry with her. Coupled with Crookshanks' attitude toward Scabbers, the boys were steadfastly ignoring her whenever they saw her.

I just miss my parents. She concluded, following a particularly large snowflake to the ground with her eyes, remembering numerous occasions where her father had pulled her away from her books to build a snowman or go sledding, or the many cups of cocoa she and her mother had shared around the hearth during a chilly winter's evening.

Those times had been so full of joy, of innocence. She hadn't known anything about magic, or the magical world, and yet she had had her family more. With every year she spent at Hogwarts, she felt herself growing farther and farther away from her parents. Not just from the long absences where so much seemed to happen, but also because of the sheer number of differences between the magical and muggle worlds. When she was home she would end up quoting famous witches and wizards, only to spend a few minutes trying to explain why they had done what they did and why each of them was important.

Of course, she grew closer to her friends every year she went to Hogwarts. True friends such that she had never experienced in the muggle world. True and honest, loyal to a fault…

At least most of the time. She thought sullenly.

The boys had very nearly agreed to be friends with her again just about a week previous, but for the supposed death of Scabbers. A few tears came to Hermione's eyes as she thought about the look on Ron's face as he had shoved the ruined sheets under her nose. Despite how much he had always complained about his stupid rat, he had the gall to blame her for her cat's behavior, when she had absolutely no control over the situation.

She wiped away the tears angrily. It was all his fault! She had tried to explain that she was sorry for what Crookshanks had done, even though she understood why he had done it, but he had taken it to mean that she fully supported her cat and that she believed Scabbers deserved to die.

Hermione sighed and stood up, draining the last of her Butterbeer. Without any friends (besides Ron and Harry, of course), going to the wizarding village had lost its appeal. She brought her cup back up to the counter on her way out, then slipped into the chilly outdoors.

Pulling her hat down snug over her ears, Hermione set off back up the street to Hogwarts. Perhaps she could even get in an hour or so of reading in before it was time for dinner.

She was about halfway to the castle, just admiring the view of the whole of the Hogwarts grounds, when noises from the direction she had come from stole her attention. Yells, muffled by the snow, were coming closer and closer; they sounded strangely familiar.

She grimaced as Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle appeared over the ridge, but looked again at their faces as she realized they were frightened. What sort of thing happened for them to be so scared? Hermione asked herself, frowning as she heard Malfoy yell something about "Potter's disembodied head".

Puzzled for a moment by the phrase, Hermione stopped walking and looked curiously after them, trying to decode the Slytherin's inane ramblings. Harry's disembodied head? But Harry stayed at school… Unless…

Of course! The boys hadn't wanted to involve her in anything, so had planned for Harry to meet up with Ron in Hogsmeade, just so he could sneak out again without her interference.

Incensed, Hermione took a few stomping steps forward before coming to a halt. What use would it be though? The boys weren't speaking with her. Why would they even care what she had to say about their little escapade? Though if Malfoy's reaction was anything to go by, Harry had been caught and would get in trouble anyway.

Hermione crossed her arms, irritated, and continued on her way to the castle. Brushing the snow off her outer coat and stomping the accumulated snow off her boots as she entered the warm castle, she started across the Entrance Hall and up the main staircase, intent on reaching her dormitory.

But she was distracted from her intentions as she stepped onto the seventh floor when one of the school owls flew through the air and hooted, dropping a small piece of folded paper in front of her. She caught it and followed the swooping owl with her eyes, watching it fly back through the corridors and turn expertly around a corner until it was out of sight.

Unfolding the note, Hermione recognized the handwriting of Hagrid almost at once.

Dear Hermione,

We lost. I'm allowed to bring him back to Hogwarts.
Execution date to be fixed.
Beaky has enjoyed London.
I won't forget all the help you gave us.

Hagrid

Fat tear stains smudged the ink in some places, making it nearly illegible, but it was still discernable. Hermione's heart dropped when she had finished reading.

Could this day get any better? Hermione thought to herself, leaning back against the wall of the corridor. She had completely forgotten that the hearing had happened the day before, with all thoughts of the boys breaking the rules having driven the thoughts from her mind. All her hard work, and the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures probably hadn't even listened to a word, because of Lucius Malfoy's bending of the truth.

Hermione had half a mind to go back downstairs and hex Draco Malfoy to kingdom come, but she simply sighed and continued her journey to the common room. She supposed that even if Ron and Harry weren't speaking to her, they would want to know about Hagrid's plight.

They weren't in the quite empty common room, so Hermione decided to wait outside, despite the intimidating presence of the security trolls who were guarding the Fat Lady's painting.

"It's my fault," she heard Ron say from a corridor away. "I persuaded you to go. Lupin's right, it was stupid, we shouldn't've done it-"

He trailed away as they turned into the hall where Hermione was standing. She glared at him and Harry for a brief moment, before walking toward them, the small note from Hagrid clutched in her hand.

"Come to have a good gloat?" Ron asked savagely, glaring at her as she stopped in front of them. "Or have you just been to tell on us?"

Hermione took a deep breath, trying to keep his harsh words from hurting her. She pulled herself together, but her lip trembled as tears started to fill her eyes. Does he always have to be so insensitive? "I just thought you ought to know… Hagrid lost his case. Buckbeak-"

She swallowed, then continued on.

"Buckbeak is going to be executed."

When the two of them simply stood there, staring, she held out the letter he had sent to her. "He-he sent me this."

Harry took it from her outstretched hand, opening it and peering down at the contents. Hermione held her breath, hoping that neither of them would be angry at her. She had tried to help. She had.

"They can't do this!" Harry said, his mouth open and his eyes glinting with anger. "They can't! Buckbeak isn't dangerous."

Relieved that Harry wasn't yelling at her for failing Hagrid, Hermione let out the breath she was holding and wiped her eyes with the edge of her sleeve.

"Malfoy's dad's frightened the Committee into it," said Hermione, taking a shuddering breath. "You know what he's like. They're a bunch of doddery old fools, and they were scared. There'll be an appeal, though, there always is. Only I can't see any hope... Nothing will have changed." She almost started weeping again at the sheer frustration of it all, but held herself together.

"Yeah, it will," said Ron fiercely, a strange light in his eyes. "You won't have to do all the work alone this time, Hermione. I'll help."

Did he just say-

Was that really-

What just-

Hermione was sure her mouth was hung open for at least a minute before she finally came to her senses. Ron would forgive her too! It didn't matter that her cat ate his rat or that she had told McGonagall about the Firebolt after all – they could be friends again!

"Oh Ron!" she cried, flinging her arms around his neck and succumbing to tears again. She was so glad that he finally came around to a reasonable way of thinking and was even happier that she could be friends with them again. Though maybe she had been in the wrong too.

"Don't listen to her," Ron had said to Lavender. "She doesn't care about other people's pets."

She felt his hand on the top of her head and cried for another minute or so before pulling away so she could speak her mind.

"Ron, I'm really, really sorry about Scabbers…" she sobbed, tears still flowing thick and fast.

"Oh- well-" Ron looked uncomfortable, but very relieved that she had finally released him. "He was quite old. And you never know, Mum and Dad might get me an owl now."

Hermione giggled, and wiped away the rest of her tears. "I'm glad we're friends again."

"Me too!" Harry said, grinning. "And I'm sorry for being mad at you…"

"That's alright," Hermione said, embracing him in a hug as well. "Though we might have to have a talk about your head's habits during Hogsmeade weekends…"

Harry looked at her, confused, but laughed when he understood where she was coming from. Ron and Hermione laughed as well and they walked together through the portrait hole to get ready for dinner.

All was well.