Chapter 9

tap...tap...tap

The hammering of the rain on the window startled Hermione awake. She stretched out before opening her eyes, bones cracking, she moaned. Every muscle in her body hurt and her feet were burning; she knew she would pay for all of that dancing. Thankfully it was Sunday and although she had plenty of work to do, she could do that right here from this bed.

The autumn sun streamed through the windows hurting her eyes, she was momentarily confused, there was not a drop of rain in sight yet something still hammered on the glass. An angry looking owl came into focus pecking on the window.

Hermione rolled over to push herself up and heard the crinkling of paper beneath her ignored the reply and swung herself out of bed to sleepily open the window and let the owl in.

The great brown bird flew in and settled on the headboard of her bed. It held out a leg with a scroll of parchment tied to it. Hermione took the letter and petted the owl gently before it spread its massive wings and took off again. Hermione sat on her bed and I curled the letter.

Dear Miss Granger,

Your detention has been arranged for 8 pm tonight with Professor McGonagall in the Transfiguration classroom.

Yours,

Professor Horace Slughorn

Hermione had been dreading facing Professor Slughorn again but after reading his note she would have gladly seen him. She adored Professor McGonagall, the woman was her favourite teacher but somehow that made Hermione feel ten times worse. How could she face the woman's looks of disapproval? How could she explain why she had snapped?

Hermione had always hated letting people down especially those who do so much to help her. Placing gene letter on her night stand Hermione tried not to think anymore of it.

She reached for the other letter sitting on her pillow. She had no desire to read it. At least in her detention tonight she could talk to Professor McGonagall about getting out of the assignment. Hermione pulled the scrap of parchment from its envelope.

Just get on with the assignment and talk.

Hermione couldn't believe what she was reading. Talk about blowing hot and cold. She hastily reached for a sheet of parchment and her self inking quill.

Look we both know that this is not working. You have made it clear countless times that you have no desire to talk to me so just go and talk to your head of house and hopefully we won't have to do this anymore.

Hermione slipped of her dressing gown and slippers and stormed down to the noisy common to shove the letter in the postbox before storming back up to her bed.

Seconds after she had sat back down on her bed with her Arithmancy textbook something hit Hermione on the head. Another letter. She looked up, but there was nothing except the frame of her four poster bed.

And what exactly is my head of house going to do? Put me with someone else? I mean you irritate the hell out of me with your perkiness and inane chatter but who is to say who they will put me with next. You and I have an understanding. I can't go through all of this again.

So no I will not be talking with my head of house.

Face it you are stuck with me so just talk.

Hermione leant on her textbook to write.

Maybe that would be for the best. You never know you may actually find someone that you want to talk too instead being lumbered with someone as irritating as me!

Hermione huffed as she one again ran downstairs to the small blue postbox in the Gryffindor Common.

She saw the reply coming this time as dodged out of the way of the envelope that fell out of the air above her bed.

Just talk.

Talk about what? You have made it clear that you don't do small talk. I've tried to engage you in a conversation about your interests but you shot me down. I just don't see the point.

How about you tell me what is wrong with you. isn't that the point of all of this?

What's wrong with me? Although I am sure you will have a few witty suggestions, there is nothing wrong with me.

Yes there is

In anger, Hermione poked several holes in the parchement with the nib of her quill.

No there is not!

Look you've written me a few letters now. I know enough about to gather that you are one of those annoying perky people, always happy and craving friendship. The last letter you wrote me showed me you were defeated. People like you always wear their hearts on their sleeve, you are unable to control your emotions like the rest of us. So once again, tell me what is wrong

I sounded defeated because of your hesitancy to do this properly nothing else and just because I have tried to be friendly do not assume that you know me.

I do know you

How could you possibly know me. I have sent you all of five letters, what you think I'm so simple that you know who I am from a few friendly words? You obviously think you know everything so how about you tell me what is wrong with me

Whatever. Don't tell me; it's not like I actually care.

Hermione scrunched his, for she had thought her pen pal was a he, no girl could be so surly, letter up and threw it across the room. She had wasted the entire morning arguing, instead catching up on her work. What a waste of time.

Hermione washed and dressed for lunch. After quickly demolishing her food she retreated back to her comfortable bed to try to catch up with the work that she had missed that morning, completely missing dinner to make up for the lost time.

At 7:45 Hermione stowed away her books and left the common room to head to Professor McGonagall's classroom. The brewing guilt, fear, and shame swirled in her stomach, faster and faster as she made her way through the castle.

"Miss Granger," the Professor smiled.

Hermione couldn't bring herself to meet her teachers gaze. "Hello, Professor," she muttered looking around the classroom.

"I have set you up here," Professor McGonagall rose out of her chair and directed Hermione to a desk with a large box sat on it. "I would like you to sort through the stock of Porcupine Spines and discard any that are less than perfect,"

Hermione nodded her understanding.

"It is a menial task but a poor spine produces even poorer results,"

"Okay, Professor," Hermione scraped the chair back across the floor and sat down to start work.

"I must attend a quick staff meeting but should be back within an hour or so."

"Okay," Hermione replied as she looked up at her aging head of house.

The Professor stood eyeing her for a moment before nodding briefly and going back to her desk to retrieve a stack of papers. "Well then, you get to work and I will be back soon,"

Hermione nodded not looking up from the spines that she had already started to sort.

She separated the bent and damaged spines from the perfectly straight and razor sharp one, throwing them into a bin beside her. Her fingers had been pricked so many times that little droplets of blood splattered and stained the wooden table, they were becoming sore already.

Exactly one hour after she had left, Professor McGonagall returned with even more papers than she had left with. "I'm sorry that took so long," she apologised as she took her seat behind her desk to set to work.

The classroom was silent except for the scratching of the Professors quill and the occasional "ow," muttered by Hermione as the two of them went about their work.

"Cup of tea?" The professor asked as she stood up to place a kettle of the fire.

"Yes please, if it is not too much trouble," Hermion replied, setting down the split spine in her hand. Skipping dinner had been a bad idea, her hunger had caught up with her and the thought of filling her stomach with anything, even tea, was a welcoming one.

"Not at all, not at all," Professor McGonagall said with her back turned to Hermione ss she messed about with cups and teapots.

The woman placed a tray co training a teapot, cups, sugar bowl and milk jug on her desk and gestured for her to take the seat in front of the woman's desk.

Hermione swallowed down her dread. The detention had been far easier than she had thought so far but this was it, she was about to receive a talking to.

Professor McGonagall lifted the teapot and poured Hermione a cup first and then herself. She pushed the sugar bowl towards Hermione as she added a dash of milk to hers.

"Biscuit?" Professor McGonagall held out a biscuit tin filled with all of hermiones favourites. She helped herself to a garibaldi

"Have another," the professor said shaking the tin at Hermione.

"Thank you," Hermione scoffed down the biscuits as her professor sipped her steaming cup of tea.

"I have a confession," The professor started finally," I offered to take your detention as I thought it would give us a chance to have a little chat."

Hermione gulped down her mouthful of tea. The liquid scorching her throat.

"I am concerned,"

"Concerned, professor?" Hermione asked innocently.

"Yes. Professor Slughorn informed me of what happened in his class last week. This kind of behaviour is intolerable, Miss Granger,"

"I know Professor. I am so sorry. I don't know what came over me,"

"Your behaviour was so out of character and it led me to think that there is possibly something else that may be troubling you? Your workload perhaps?" Professor McGonagall regarded Hermione from over her glasses.

"Honestly, professor. I am fine, I was just having a bad day and Malfoy really does know how to push my bottoms. I know that is no excuse, but I promise nothing like this will ever happen again.

"I'm sure it will not but that does nothing to alleviate my concerns," The prosessor sat down her cup and clasped her hands together as she rest her elbows on the desk. "I have taken the liberty of speaking with your professors,"

Although Hermione knew that her Head of House had every right to speak with her Professors about her, she did not like the thought of them discussing her and struggled to swallow her irritation.

"And while yes you are still attaining passes, in some of your classes you are just barely scraping by. Your professors and I agree that your workload may be too much."

Hermione looked down into her cup to disguise the tears welling up in her eyes. "It's been a lot to adjust to Professor but I have everything under control now. I promise."

The Professor regarded her kindly and gave her a small smile. "I have been watching you, Miss Granger. You have regularly been skipping meals; you have lost weight and often turn up to class exhausted." Professor McGonagall reached across her desk to fumble with a stack of papers before taking one. "This is your latestest Transfiguration homework," the woman handed Hermione the work which had been recently marked. A big fat Red A glared up at her.

"Usually your work is meticulous, but this is riddled with simple errors and spelling mistakes,"

Hermione wiped her eyes on her sleeve as she handed her homework back to the teacher, unable to look at her failure for one second longer.

"Never before have we had a student take on as many N.E.W.T courses. I knew it would be hard work even for you but I do not like what the pressure is doing to you,"

"Please Professor, I'm fine. It took a while to work out my routine but I think I finally have it,"

"My advice, Miss Granger, would be to drop a couple of your classes,"

Hermione stared wide eyed at her teacher. "Please, Professor. I can't,"

"Can't," the Professor questioned, her brow raised. "Nobody can do everything, Miss Granger,"

Hermiones tears flowed freely as her panic bubbled to the surface. "But, I must," she protested. "I have to learn everything I can,"

"Why?"

"Professor." Hermione met the older woman's concerned gaze. "With everything that is going on, learning is all I can do."

"How do you mean?"

"He is back Professor and things are rapidly getting worse. Harry feels like he is the only one who has to face this war but it is all of us isn't it. I can't pretend that what is happening is not and learning everything I can is all I can do to help."

"Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall regarded her, her eyes full of worry and pity. "As you said, it is up to us all to face this war together. You must not let the weight of it sit on your shoulders alone. You cannot let your fear rule you,"

Her tears stopped as Hermione regarded her teacher seriously. "It is not fear Professor,"

"Then what is it?"

Hermione took a deep breath before replying. "There is going to come a day when Harry will face him again, if I am prepared I will be able to help him. If I am prepared, I might be able to save him,"

Professor McGonagall lifted a finger to the corner of her eye to wipe away a solitary tear. "While I do understand your concern for mr Potter, I must assure you that each and every member of the Order of the Phoenix is working tirelessly to bring about an end to this war and prevent that day from ever happening. But even if you are right, do you think it is helpful to Harry to be making yourself ill in your persuit? Do you not think that he would prefer the friend he knows and lives rather than a zombie who spends every waking hour working? Harry needs you, right now. Nothing else."

Hermione nodded as she struggled to control the bawling that threatened to break out.

"Please consider what I have said about dropping a couple of classes. It does not have to be forever."

Hermione nodded. "I will,"

Professor McGonagall regarded Hermione for just a moment before opening her mouth to speak again. "Good. Right I think you have seen enough Procupine spines for one evening, you may go,"

Hermione gathered her things and turn to retreat back to the Gryffindor Common Room.

"And Miss Granger," her professor stopped her. "If you ever need to talk, I am always here."

Hermione smiled. "Thank you, Professor,"

Uncontrollable sobs took hold of her body as soon as the door closed behind her.