Hermione bit her lip in embarrassment, here were her supposed best friends fighting over some thing or another in front of the great hall. She did not want to intervene, not tonight anyway. It seemed the two had been fighting a lot as of lately, and she did not know why. Sure, she had theories, but usually it was her and Ron…not Ron and Harry. With a sigh, she pushed the two apart.

"Behave you too!"

"Well he started it!" Hermione heard them both yell at the same moment, before the two turned to glare at each other, she found herself smiling at that. They could be such…children at times.

"I'm sure they did, but I'm starving, and your jabbering will not get us anywhere," with a pointed look she turned away and walked into the Great Hall, not bothering to wait for the two. She heard mutters beside her, as most of the student body had been audience to the uproar, but she did not much care. She had just about enough this time. She sat down by herself with a huff, at the Gryffindor table. She waited for the two to sit down also; they did - on either side of her. She rolled her eyes at that and picked up a slice of toast. It was only the morning after all, and she really could do without the quarrelling. At the same time, she could feel the two glaring at each other - honestly.

"Will you two stop? I've just about had enough of you two, and I don't have to give you two time outs, do I?" There were groans from the two as they said her name, but she merely smiled.

"Well, I'm sure that'd be just what they needed wouldn't it? Honestly Potter, being taken care of by your Mudblood pet?" There he was, Draco Malfoy. She huffed in annoyance; he was such a bothersome person. She turned to look at him, and cocked her head to the side, anger building within her - she ignored it. It would not do well to make another scene so early in the day.

"Mmm, but at least they know there place Malfoy. I'm sure they know more than you about manners," a lame retort she knew - but she merely did not have the energy for something like this.

"Are you chastising me on manners Mudblood? What would you know about manners? Slaving away in your mud blood home I'm sure, I can assure you, we Malfoys have better manners than any Mudblood."

Hermione turned to glare at him, just as she was about to retort back a hand grab her arm.

"Lay off Malfoy," said a voice behind her. She turned her head in confusion, and there was a familiar Weasley standing behind her, Fred. She blinked in surprise, he was not one to interact with her, and she was sure. She supposed it was because it was Draco; the twins did have a tendency to get riled up for nothing. This was no difference; they sometimes just looked for reasons to bring up trouble, if they could not create their own of course.

Fred pushed Hermione behind him, as if she needed this help; she had shown Malfoy his place before. She glared at Fred's head in annoyance, but sat down none the less. Leave it to them to battle it out, she thought. She continued to eat her toast while the voices seemed to carry out behind her. There was a sudden sound above her, like feathers ruffling. She looked up as an owl flew to her, a brown owl with the Daily Prophet. She grabbed the newspaper as it dropped down and threw a piece of bacon up for the bird. She looked down at the newspaper and was not surprised to see an article about some sightings of 'mysterious black hooded figures. Of course, no relation to Voldemort or his followers' according to whom Hermione thought to herself. She bit her toast in annoyance; it was a perfect blend of toast, crunchy, but not too much. Elves were just good at their jobs; she despised those jobs though. She flipped through various pages of some nothing or another, not bothering to really read them. She was looking for a specific page, the Acknowledgements. She did not think anyone would ever write anything for her of course, but she enjoyed the different stories people would write for each other here.

As she scanned the page she found herself smiling at the various stories, some of romance, some of pain, but one in particular caught her attention. It was a love letter, of a sort, she silently wondered who it could be, and she looked for who may have written it, anonymous. Looking at who the letter's dedication was, she was shocked to see the following name: Herm. G.

I was waiting for the end of the rain

So that I may come visit you once more

See your glowing face, radiating in the warm Autumn sun

Feel your skin under my fingers as I trace that flow of amber

Hear your voice in my ear as you shudder in pleasure

I wish to learn from you

As you have learned each part of me

Warm my way into your mind, your soul

Until I know of nothing more

Want your power, your passion

I yearn for a taste

A sip from the urn

I want to caress you in the dark

Or when our bodies glisten under the warm candle glow

Want to see you smile, hear you laugh

Feel your joy

I want us to dance

Beneath the pale moonlight

When I as you, as you are I

Our bodies, a mixture of love

A mixture of everything right, when problems erase

And I feel nothing but the warmness of our enlighten

I ache to be just yours

An answer to your whims

A love forever

More than until death do us part

Until we cease to exist, it is not yet enough

As we will be together still

If even after we no longer abide the rules

Seeing neither each other nor ourselves, it is nothing but time

I want to own you

Because I need not a name to know

Not a word, because in my heart, I am yours

And perhaps that is all that matters

Because in the end, I find myself, eternally

Yours

Anonymous, for Herm. G.

With a blush Hermione stood, she picked up her bag and swung it over her shoulders. With a soft bye to her friends, she scrambled out of the way; she barely registered Harry call out a bye to her. She ran all the way to the Gryffindor entrance, where she found herself short of breath. Leaning her head back against a wall, she shut her eyes taking in deep breaths. "What am I doing?" she asked herself softly, she was not sure, but she just seemed so joyous at the moment. She took in a deep breath and opened her eyes; the portraits were looking at her curiously. She smiled at them briefly, before muttering the password to get in. Once she was inside, she sat down on a chair that lay before the fire. She took out a pair of scissors and carefully cut the passage out from the newspaper, taking the poem she smiled at it. She quickly brushed her lips against it beside her name, and went to her room. Once she was inside, she pinned the paper to her wall, a warm feeling spreading into her belly. With a happy sigh, she fell upon her bed, staring at the note to her.