*I do not own any of the characters or settings of Harry Potter, that would all belong to the wondrous J.K. Rowling. However, I do own the original content of this story.*

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In My Veins

Two: From the Mouths of Babes

In which Hermione learns the hard way how cruel some people can be.

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The days following the Yule Ball were some of the worst Hermione had ever experienced at Hogwarts. Rumours were flying left and right about her sudden disappearance at the Ball as well as Viktor's. She honestly had no idea where he went after she left and she didn't even really care, but almost every student in the castle was spinning the circumstances in a light that made her stomach squirm in revolt. Hermione didn't know who started the original chain of gossip – if she did she'd not hesitate to hex them into oblivion – but people everywhere were whispering about her not only having been escorted by such a renowned Quidditch player but also about her shagging him.

Girls stared at her wherever she went, looks ranging from awe to envy and rage to disgust plastered all over their sneering faces before they turned to each other and muttered about her torrid affair. Boys roved their eyes over her body lasciviously as though they could see through her robes and she overheard some of them wondering how 'Krum had gotten such a smarmy know-it-all to drop her knickers.' It was in those moments she cursed her sensitive hearing.

It had gotten so ridiculous and out of hand that Hermione hated even being in the Gryffindor Common Room, a place she normally found great comfort, because every time she entered Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil sidled up to her and assaulted her with questions she really felt they'd no right to ask. "He's so handsome! Is he as toned as he looks? I bet his muscles are the sexiest thing to feel, all tight and powerful, when he's ravaging you!" Parvati had gushed just that morning, a glazed look in her round eyes while Lavender rather savagely said, "Why on earth would he choose you? What makes you so special?" Hermione had merely brushed past them and stomped through the portrait hole in annoyance.

She didn't know exactly how she felt, other than heatedly angry, about the attention she was now receiving but it certainly was not special. Hermione had vainly hoped that it would all die down as time passed but it had already been over a week since the dance and she was still being bombarded by catcalls and whistles. Some were even stopping her in the halls and demanding to know what Viktor looked like naked and what it was like to snog him. It was irritating to say the least and she was often so enraged that Harry and Ron had to drag her off before she started throwing curses.

Hermione could deal with all the mutterings that followed her like shadows, she had accustomed herself to such antics when she had first become friends with the famed Boy-Who-Lived, and she could even pretend that all the shrewd stares didn't make her skin crawl, but having persons she did not know prying into her private life was easily one of the most maddening and unpleasant of experiences she had faced in her life. Which, considering that she had battled a werewolf, a troll, and a giant snake as well as having been petrified, really said a lot.

Aside from driving her absolutely barmy with fury, the school's new found obsession with her love life was severely wreaking havoc on Hermione's friendships with the boys. She had swallowed her pride the day after the Yule Ball and apologised to Ron, admittedly she wasn't all too sure what exactly she was supposed to be sorry for, and Ron seemed to forgive her. As a manner of principle, she found his lack of atonement for his wrongs against her a bit rude but she bit her tongue as she did not want to push her luck and things returned to some semblance of normality. Of course Hermione's relationship with Ronald was still rocky and tense and felt just a little forced but she had expected it. She had, in hopes of fixing the rift between them, tried to talk to Ron about what happened between them that night, but he suddenly developed hearing loss whenever she cornered him and would stalk off before she could really get a word in. Hermione had only just resigned herself to Ronald's silence and was settling to wait for him to come to her when they caught wind of what was being said.

Immediately Ron flew into a state of lunacy and ranted about wanting to tear apart Viktor for well over an hour and Hermione had actually found his concern endearing until he had sank his teeth into her and once more screamed at her for being stupid enough to fall for Krum's charm. She had tried to tell her well-intentioned friend that she hadn't fallen for anyone's charm no more than she had crawled into their bed, but Ron was too blinded in his anger to even fake that he heard her.

Harry, on the other hand, yelled at Ron for being such a berk and reassured Hermione that he knew better than to buy stock in the hype, that he knew she was not that type of girl. His words had promptly earned him a fierce and bone-crushing hug which people had taken liberties with as well. Within half an hour the student body were claiming she was also sleeping with her raven haired best friend. Luckily, Ron realised that since everyone was lying about the two of them, then it was plausible that they were also stretching the truth about her relationship with Viktor. He again did not offer an apology but he was at least standing by her, as was Harry.

Though they presented themselves as a united front, their bonds were being strained with the pressure and the three of them were arguing more than ever. Hermione's only source of relief was Ginny. The younger witch was more than happy telling their gawking classmates off or hexing them whenever they dove too deep for information. Ginny also didn't seem to mind putting her brother or her crush in place if they got too accusing or rude and each occurrence only made Hermione's gratitude for the girl surge higher.

On occasion, Hermione saw Fred shooting her sympathetic glances and she often wondered if he wanted to say something to her but just didn't know how or couldn't manage to get away from his mates long enough. She had not seen much of the older Weasley since Christmas and she had quite honestly been itching to talk to him again. Hermione wanted to thank Fred for being so helpful on that gods-awful night and for not ridiculing her afterward like he normally would have. Every time she managed to summon forth her fabled Gryffindor courage, however, he was gone or George was whispering something seemingly serious to him.

As the number of days left in winter break dwindled, Hermione found herself growing more anxious than she ever had been. She wasn't all that keen to go about spending her days sitting alongside the very people slandering her good name and harassing her about an event that never happened for four classes a day, two hours a piece. If simply ignoring and rushing off from whatever goon happened across her was enough to make her want to bash her head in, she did not want to know what being immersed in the gossip fully would feel like or do to her. If she was any kind of lucky, she'd be able to refrain from doing anything that would put her at risk for expulsion. Hermione also had to hope that with the chaos of new, harder lesson plans she would fall to the wayside and people stopped caring about what she was or was not doing.

She longed for the days when the biggest scandal she ever committed was simply not raising her hand to answer a question in class and she hoped to get that back. Hermione would get that back .. even if it killed her or she had to break a thousand school rules. She'd do anything to remove herself from the spotlight and go back to being the frizzy haired bookworm that no one quite liked; it really would be so much easier than being the slag everyone talked about.

The last evening of the winter holidays found Hermione in the Great Hall eating dinner with Ginny sitting beside her, Harry sitting opposite her, and Ron sitting next to Harry. None of them were quite talking as they were each absorbed in their thoughts. Hermione's mind was still running through the various rumours she had heard and the numerous things she had apparently done and she didn't know if she should be somewhat impressed with the credit people were giving her – she was apparently quite the woman in bed – or downright disgusted. She settled for a happy medium between the two. She wasn't positive when, but Hermione had somehow begun to view the whole ordeal as kind of hilarious. If any of the students spreading the gossip knew anything about her, they'd know that she was in no way, as Ron had once put, a scarlet woman. It was the exact opposite of everything Hermione Granger stood for.

"Hey, Hermione." Hermione instantly snapped out of her musings and focused on her surroundings. She turned her head to where she thought she had heard her name being said and saw Neville sitting on the other side of Ron, a minuscule smile turning up the corners of his lips.

"Oh hello, Neville," she returned politely. She had always really liked Neville Longbottom, he was quite the good boy through and through. He was well mannered and almost as studious as she was, though his attentions were more devoted to Herbology, and he had a good, pure heart. Sure the others found him a bit annoying, but Hermione had decided almost immediately after meeting him that he was good company. However, as much as she liked the round-faced lad, he rarely engaged her in conversation when she was around Harry or Ron and definitely chose to hold back whenever she was with both of them. This posed the question of why was he talking to her now? "Was there something you needed?"

A deep rouge spread along the nape of his neck and coloured his cheeks as he blinked rapidly. "I just .. er.. well," he paused and cleared his throat as he looked around to see if anyone was watching them – which they were – and his blush deepened. "I wanted to tell you that I don't think you actually .. um .. slept with that Viktor Krum fellow. Of course, if you did, well, that's okay too! What I'm trying to say, is that I think you're a good person, Hermione, no matter what anyone else says." By the time he finished rambling Hermione was almost sure his face would forever resemble the colour of a tomato, he was so flushed.

Hermione beamed radiantly at her classmate and felt the slight burning of tears behind her eyes as she regarded his kind face. He really was the sweetest boy she'd ever met. "Thank you, Neville. That really means a lot to me." She smiled widely, making him blush evermore as impossible as it was and stammer out a nearly unintelligible "You're welcome," and "It's no problem," before gathering his things and fleeing the Great Hall.

After Neville was out of her sight Hermione turned her attention back to the hall of people around her. Many eyes were glued to her, curious and judging, and some were trained at the spot Neville had disappeared from by the doors, confused and amazed. Hermione rolled her eyes at the unabashed staring and resumed her meal. She hadn't been too hungry when she entered the hall, but she was now suddenly famished and she quickly cleared the food off her plate and waited patiently for the afters to appear. As she waited, the feeling that she was still being watched slowly ebbed and when she looked around her, she breathed a sigh of relief to find that the only people looking at her were Ron and Harry – Ginny was merrily eating beside her – and she could feel the somehow familiar gaze of Fred's piercing eyes from down the table as well.

Her brown eyes met his blue and she flashed him a secret smile before she faced the other two. She couldn't fathom their expressions; Harry's furrowed look of amazement and Ron's slack-jawed expression of bewilderment. "What?" she demanded after a few minutes, starting to feel obscenely self-conscious.

Her tone seemed to snap them both out of whatever trances had been holding them captive as Ron literally shook himself back into reality and Harry let out a long sigh. "I'm just surprised. Neville never really struck me as a ladies man," said Harry while he blinked a few times as though he were trying to dispel an image out of his mind.

Hermione laughed. "He's quite charming, yes, but I wouldn't go so far as to declare him a ladies man. He's a sweetheart, always has been." She flicked her eyes over to the youngest Weasley male who's face was still fixed in a troubled expression. "Now what's wrong with you?" Hermione could not contain the bite in her voice, she was really beginning to get aggravated with Ron's emotional outbursts.

Ron raised his eyes to hers and she did not miss the swirl of guilt and confusion in their depths. "You really didn't shag him, did you?" he said slowly, dragging out each word. His tone was coloured in the same puzzled tint that was in his eyes and on his face and it dawned on Hermione that he'd truly believed she had been intimate with Viktor and a strong tide of disgust fuelled anger washed across her.

"You .. you believed those lies? You actually thought I would do something like that, that I would degrade myself in such a way?" she seethed accusingly. Standing from the long table, Hermione glared emphatically at her supposed best mate. "I can't believe we're actually friends," she stated in a shaky voice. She was very near the edge of tears and as much as everyone liked to talk about her, she was glad they had yet to realise how much all of it was hurting her, and so she didn't want to break down in the Great Hall. Without another glance or word at Ron, Hermione fled through the great oak doors and into the waiting corridor.

Oh, she couldn't believe him! One of her closest friends and he couldn't even tell when people were lying about her! It hurt her more than it angered her but being angry seemed far more productive and satisfying than wallowing. Did he have such little faith in her? Was he really that insecure about himself and his chances with her, as slim as they were, that he needed to think the worst of her to make himself feel better? If so, why in the name of Merlin was she friends with a git like him? It may be selfish and vain, but she thought she deserved better. She had been raised to be a good person and good people did not deserve such a shite mate as that of Ronald Bilius Weasley.

Hermione was far too worked up and emotional to even consider going back to the Common Room or her dorm – Lavender and Parvati had left dinner early and were undoubtedly in the Gryffindor Tower somewhere – but she certainly didn't want to roam about the halls in tears and wake up in the morning to hear she was not only a right whore but also a complete disaster. But she really had nowhere else to go. She could duck inside one of the hidden passages behind the various tapestries but they were about as ideal as the hallway in terms of needing a spot to weep. She could sneak off to the Astronomy Tower, no one ever really went up there, but the height of it completely terrified her and she was honestly a bit afraid that she would be far too tempted to do something rash and either jump off the edge or find Ron and pitch him off. No, she would just have to settle for keeping her tears at bay until she came across a secure place.

Letting her feet guide her, Hermione began wandering the long corridors of Hogwarts in search of a place she could lose herself. She did not get very far, however, before she heard her name being yelled from the opposing end of whatever hall she was now walking. Not wanting to talk or see anyone, she sped up only to be stopped by a tentative hand grabbing the juncture of her arm. Despite her reserves, she whirled around and came face to face with Ginny. No words were said for a moment's breath before Hermione finally let her tears overflow her senses and allowed Ginny to soothe her as only another woman could.

"How could he think I'm so horrible?" Hermione asked as another wave of tears slipped free. "Gods be good, I can't believe this is the second time in a month that a Weasley has held me while I cried over that arse!" Ginny had looked at her in a funny way once she confessed that bit, but she was too far gone to notice or, if she did, care. When Hermione seemed to finally have cried to her heart's content, she pulled away from Ginny and stood up from the cold stone floor – they had somehow found their way down amidst Hermione's shower of salt water – and pulled the younger witch with her. She had never been more thankful to have Ginny in her life than at the moment. "It's late, we should probably already be back inside the Tower," she commented in a tight voice.

Ginny nodded her assent and they both fell into a quiet walk towards the north tower of Hogwarts. Ginny, it seemed, wanted to say something. Every couple of minutes the brainy witch would see her open her mouth or turn to her or would hear her inhale deeply, but nothing was ever expressed. Hermione was beginning to lose patience and was on the verge of demanding to know what she wanted to tell her but before she could get the words out, Ginny grabbed her arm again and slammed them both against the side of a wall. Her impact rattled a few portraits and their owners barked at Hermione about manners and just as she made to apologise profusely, a hand covered her mouth and she heard Ginny shush the paintings. Finally having enough of her odd, and rather painful antics, Hermione rounded. "What the buggering hell are you doing?" she hissed in a whisper at the ginger maniac.

"Shh," Ginny said again and, jutting her chin, gestured to something on the other side of the corner they were currently hiding behind. "Listen."

Fixing Ginny with a glare, Hermione hesitantly leaned forward and reached out with her hearing, trying her hardest to pick up what the other girl had obviously already heard. " .. tell me, is Granger any good in bed?" A voice that seemed distantly familiar asked and Hermione immediately began sifting through her memories to try to pinpoint its owner. Listening harder, she discerned another voice, one she did know and could easily place. "My Hermy-Own-Ninny is unbelieffable but she is very stiff. Her mofements were too .. too generic." That voice was unmistakably the lilted tone of Viktor Krum. Hermione momentarily saw red and all she wanted was to march around that corner and blast the Bulgarian off the face of the earth. "So, you really did shag her, then?" the mystery voice asked. "Vell, of course! She could not resist me!"

Hermione stopped listening, choosing instead to focus on controlling the boiling in her blood and steadying her erratic heartbeat. If she didn't she would do something so wrong and so dangerous and she would have to be expelled or sentenced to Azkaban. Never in her life had Hermione ever been angry and disgusted and hurt and repulsed all in one go. She was sure she was going to explode, was going to once again go to pieces in the middle of a hall with Viktor and some other worthless prat just feet away.

Somewhere in her foggy brain she registered Ginny's movement beside her and heard the low echo of her shouting something far off. Ginny once again grabbing her arm jolted her out of her haze but Hermione had to focus intently to hear what she was saying. "We have to go! C'mon, Hermione!" And then she was being pulled away, lead somewhere she didn't know, but looking back over her shoulder she smiled sinisterly at the two boys that were currently fighting off massive flying bogeys.

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I would like to respond to Jumping Ships' review because he/she was not signed in and I couldn't respond like I did the others. I have to agree on you with your points, the well-written stories for Fremione are a bit more difficult to find but most of the ones I read are real winners, so I can't complain too much. It's really nice of you to think of mine as one of those nicely done writings – I'm sure you'll change your opinion once you read more of this one though! Lol. As for keeping Sir Frederick in character, well I wanted to make sure that what I love most about Fred in the books (and also what I adore about James Phelps) in the story because his characteristics are the very reason I fell for him. Your excitement concerning the length of In My Veins is just a bit contagious, I must say, because I wasn't honestly going to do much more writing for a few days but after reading your comment I was completely swayed. Your words made me so giddy I felt like dancing, which thankfully I did not because I look riddikulus when I dance but you get the idea. So, thanks much for your review but I'm afraid I'm now positively hooked on your comments that I will be needing and expecting one for every chapter! No, I'm kidding, but it would be much appreciated. Anyway, thank you, thank you, thank you!

And thank you to everyone who reviewed or favourited or followed this story, you're all the reason I'm writing!

Love you, C.