Hey guys, chapter 3 is now up :). I think chapter four will be up today as well. My due date is the 23rd, I hope I'll be able to get this done by then!

-TTDLxxx

"Harry, please tell me the truth. Are you sure you saw a grim the night you left your Aunt and Uncle's place?" Ron asked his friend for what seemed to be the hundredth time, as they descended the ladder which lead to the North Tower.

"Yes, Ron," Harry sighed, "I told you before that I did."

"Well," remarked Hermione, walking beside them, "I personally think that this whole Divination thing is nothing but a load of sentimental tosh."

"But, Hermione," Ron pressed on, "there was a grim in Harry's teacup today, and not only that, but Harry saw a grim the night he went to the Leaky Cauldron! My great-uncle died within twenty-four hours of seeing one of those creatures, you know."

"I think Harry is fortunate enough to say that he is not your great-uncle and in Harry's case at least, I am quite sure that twenty-four hours has long passed since Harry set his eyes on the grim and to my knowledge, he is still standing here, alive and kicking!"

"All the same," Ron continued, ignoring Hermione's retorts, "I strongly feel that Harry should be very cautious. It is better to be safe than sorry, after all."

"Since when have you been the precarious type?" Hermione asked in a surprised voice, raising her eyebrows.

A pink tinge appeared on Ron's cheeks. "Shut up," he muttered, pushing Hermione away, "you really need to take things more seriously."

Hermione nodded her head solemnly. "I see, Professor Ronald," she said in an innocently mocking tone, "I will try my best to live up to your expectations of me."

Harry stifled bouts of laughter and Ron's face turned the beet root red.

"Come on, Hermione!" Ron called, trying to pull her away from the entrance of the post office, "they're just overly jumpy owls, nothing special!"

"Yes, but Ron," Hermione exasperatedly said, "it's all so interesting. I read on the notice board that there are over 200 owls in there and that they all all colour-coordinated in relation to how fast you want your mail to reach your recipient."

Ron sighed. "Only you would find something like that so interesting, Hermione," he complained, "now can we go to Honeydukes? I promised Harry that I would get loads of candy for him."

"Ron, we only just got here!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Well, for now, I think that there aren't any other sites, besides the the owls of-course, at the post office. And you've already seen them!"

"Fine, Ron," Hermione cringed, "I'll come with you to Honeydukes now, but in exchange for that, we have to spend as much time as I like at Shrivencrafts."

"Deal," Ron agreed, happy to get out of the post office at any cost.

"Hermione," Ron softly called, prodding his friend in the shoulder, "Hermione, wake up."

He had come down from the Boys Dormitory early that morning to find her fast asleep on top of an Astronomy textbook, with a crystal ball and a chart of symbols beside her.

"Hermione?" Ron gently asked, shaking her slowly. At that moment, he felt her suddenly jerk awake and a feeling f self-consciousness passed through him.

"I-I just th-thought I'd wake y-you up, before e-everyone else c-came down," Ron sheepishly stammered, his cheeks turning bright red.

Hermione stared at him with a steady, unmoving gaze. "Your eyes," she abruptly said, ignoring Ron's explanation, "they're blue..."

Ron frowned suspiciously. "Well, yeah," he confirmed, "thought you'd have known by now."

Hermione shook her head. "But-but, the red-headed children I saw in the crystal ball," she said, indicating the globe beside her, "their eyes were brown. I thought- it was you and Ginny."

"Hermione," Ron firmly told her, "you need a break from studying. Today after breakfast, you are to come with me to watch Harry's Quidditch Practice."

"But-" Hermione began, in a flustered tone.

"I won't take 'no' for an answer, Hermione," Ron sharply said, "You're practically on the verge of going insane! You need a break, your body commands it!"

"Aright," Hermione sighed, knowing she had been defeated, "I'll come."

"Do you think, he's alright?" Hermione squeaked, staring at Harry through her bloodshot eyes.

Ron gave a shaky nod. "I h-hope so," he stammered, "Madame P-Pomfrey did say he'd be fine."

Hermione made a small high-pitched sound in response.

At that very moment a shuffling sort of sound was heard and everyone turned around dully to face the new arrival. It was Proffesor Flitwick. Carrying a large, wrapped package in his hands, he stumbled into the Hospital Wing, doing his best to support himself under the weight of the parcel.

He leaned exhaustedly against the wall for support, as Ron went forward to retrieve the parcel from his hands.

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," the Charms Proffesor panted, "I would really be grateful if you would give Mr. Potter that package once he wakes up. It contains his broken Nimbus 2000."

"Broken?" Ron gasped. They were all so concerned about Harry, that the broomstick had laid forgotten.

"Yes," Professor Flitwick sadly declared, "it bumped into the Whomping Willow, just as Mr. Potter fell of it."

"I-is th-there no chance of re-repair, Professor," Hermione suddenly piped up, sniffling.

Professor Flitwick looked up at her, surprised. "I'm afraid not, Ms. Granger," he told her, confirming their suspicions, "you know the Whomping Willow doesn't like to be messed around with.

"Anyway," he continued, "I shall leave you here with Mr. Potter now. The rest of his team should be arriving here shortly."

Ron shook his head miserably, "Poor Harry," he whispered.

"Hermione, you are totally brilliant!" Ron exclaimed as he emerged through the portrait hole, punching the air with his fist. "The way you stormed out of Trwlawney's class was just unbelievable!"

Hermione looked up at him from her Ancient Runes text-book. "Thank you, Ronald," she said lightly, "I thought she totally deserved what she got."

"Forget whether or not she deserved it," Ron cried, "the fact that you, out of all people, walked out of class, with your nose held up high in the air was just...unimaginable."

"You would have done the same too, if she continued to rattle about the danger of a supposed grim and on top of that called your mind hopelessly 'mundane'," Hermione explained, simultaneously scribbling notes down in her book.

"Nah," Ron replied, grinning madly, "I'd probably have just told her that she was mistaking my mind for her own, nothing more than that."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "Honestly, Ronald," she lectured, "sometimes you should learn to be more mature."

"Mature!" exclaimed Ron, "Me, needing to be more mature? I think you need to rephrase your statement, Hermione. Let me remind you that it wasn't me, who punched Malfoy in the face and it wasn't me who walked out in the middle of Divination class, either!"

"Prat," muttered Hermione, her smile betraying her failed attempt at trying to look cross.

Ron grinned, knowing that the winner of this argument was for once, him.

"Hermione, how are you managing it?" Ron cried, staring down at his friend, who was skimming through an Arithmancy text-book.

"It's called hard work, Ron," Hermione sighed, dipping her quill into the ink bottle beside her.

"I mean your classes," Ron groaned, "even without divination, you have Muggle Studies at the same time as your timetable says you have Ancient Runes. How is it that you get to both classes at the same time?"

"Ron, you know that is humanely impossible," Hermione hastily said, scribbling down some notes for her essay, "one can't be at two places at one time."

"Then how are you doing it?" Ron demanded, thumping his fist on the table next to him. "How do you always get to both classes?"

Hermione looked up from her work, with a bemused expression. "It's called efficiency, patience and determination, Ronald," she explained, "all three of which you seem to be lacking."