A/N: 'evil grin'. I hope u guys don't hate me for A), how short that last chappie was, and B), that last sentence. Hee hee. Well, I hope I don't get flamed in the time between now and when this is posted. Heh, it'd be my first flame. As for why it was so short, I just had no choice. There were two main points I had to clear in that last chapter, The Trampoline Lessons and The Make-Out. Now I can get this all long and good and detailed. And notice the last sentence was from Hermione's point of view, not necessarily mine. (That doesn't mean they didn't make-out, they did.) Lol, I guess this is a pretty long Author's Note, but I wanted to clear things up to save you guys from confusion, even though I'm probably doing a bad job of it. Oh, and I guess some elements of 'Yu Yu Hakusho' are incorporated into this fic, but it's ok if u don't know what that is, it'll be easy enough to follow.

(Additional A/N: this is the same day, but in the evening

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.. xD I don't own Rhea either, she's Lacie's. . I own Miranda... heh, but Miranda isn't even in this story, so ANYways.. yeah.


Rhea and Narrator's POVS

Rhea sat in her Ravenclaw dormitory, thinking.

She hadn't really felt like going to dinner, desiring some peace for her thoughts in its place. She flopped onto her unmade bed, pondering. She wasn't an idiot; she had seen the look Hermione had given her after she kissed Draco at breakfast.

Not exactly heart broken, Rhea was pretty sure the know-it-all wasn't in love with Draco. 'There was definitely tension in her eyes though. Then' she shivered, 'Hermione's eyes got cold and hard, a look I've seen before on demons right before they slashed at me…Damn.'

She muttered to herself out loud, "And we were supposed to be friends eventually... That screws up that idea..."

Rolling her eyes as she heard her gossiping roommates climbing up the stairs, Rhea grabbed her Firebolt from where it leaned against the wall, and soared out the window carefully.

'Crap, probably should've put a cloak on first.' She thought as the evening air hit her rolled up sleeves and thin pants.

She smirked to herself. 'The pants are thin so that Madame Malkin saves a few bucks for her chocolates, and the male professors can stare at our asses...'

Amusing as this train of thought was, since it led to a certain professor, she forced her mind back to the original topic as she cruised over the black glossy lake surface, the full moon making her look lit up and her very being ethereal (A/N: I love Spell Check).

'Damn it though. Hermione wasn't supposed to see that kiss. She was supposed to be worried about the two doofuses!'

She snorted. 'So much for loyalty…'

Coming to rest in a clearing about 15 feet squared (A/N: which is a heck of a lot bigger than you're imagining), near the edge of the lake, which was conveniently sheltered by five huge oaks.

'Almost too conveniently...' a small automatic part of her noticed, but that life was in the past, and she ignored it.

She thumped down on the ground and thought frustratedly. 'Well, this is just LOVELY. If I tell her the truth, she'll freak out tell everyone, and most likely have me committed to the nearest asylum, and if I don't I've just lost pretty much any chance of having someone good to talk to here…'

That's when she heard a rustling, and turned smoothly around and grabbed the intruder by the throat firmly, not having to even think about it, another little trait from the past.

Then she blinked. "You?" two voices yelped.

Hermione and Narrator's POVS:

(This happens at the same time, with an about 5 minute difference to Rhea's)

Lying in bed, all Hermione could do was stare at the wall. She knew she wasn't happy.

But then, who would be seeing a make-out fest like that right during breakfast? But all jokes aside, she knew that somehow it ran deeper than that, which made her squirm and shudder.

She wasn't crying, she didn't even know what the heck was was wrong with her.

Her mood was difficult to describe. Moody probably came close, but that implied anger. Hermione wasn't angry. She thought to herself, 'I just feel…blurry. Yeah, that's good, blurry. Like an important piece of parchment that was irreversibly smudged.'

She was lying on her bed, not having eaten since those few bites of breakfast. She definitely wasn't sad enough to lose her appetite, no, she just didn't want to go there and now she would keep staring at the spot, and, Goddess, what if Rhea came over and said something to her?

Suddenly, she heard the door/tapestry opening downstairs. She sighed. 'No point avoiding him, he's too smart, I don't even know why this is affecting me so he definitely doesn't need to know… Plus I want coffee…'

Heading downstairs, she suddenly heard high-pitched laughter, the kind one could only compare to nails on a chalkboard. Definitely needing that coffee now, she headed downstairs wondering who put a voice-lightening spell on Draco.

But when she got to the first part of the room, with the unbelievably large fireplace, she saw it wasn't Draco. It was Pansy Parkinson, the cow. Hermione was about to go back up the stairs when she caught a few words.

"Are you suffering much, Dracy-poo? Living with the mudblood?"

"You mean Hermione? Uh, I dunno, we don't really talk…"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. He actually had said a sentence about her without insulting her. She wasn't sure why, but she crouched down on the stairs, listening.

"She's a complete pain of course though."

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'Spoke too soon.'

"Oh, poor Draco. You know," and here the voice got even more disgusting to Hermione's ears, "you could come to my room. I could make you feel better…"

Hermione gritted her teeth, practically seeing the leer on the pug's face. 'Dr-Malfoy, is Head Boy, he wouldn't dare-'

"Sure hon'."

Hermione felt sick.

She tiptoe-ran up the stairs, though even on tiptoes she made some noise since she was running instead of creeping. Whatever. She grabbed her Firebolt, a present from Harry and Ron from last Christmas. She'd never actually used it before; she wasn't quite good at it like Ron and Harry were, but they'd bought it presumably so that she could spend more time with them and they could teach her. She remembered internally giggling at the time, thinking that part of the reason was that they were sick of buying her books.

Now she didn't even give it a thought. She knew the basics from Madame Hooch's classes.

A part of her knew that if the broom didn't respond for her, as it usually didn't, she would be on a one-way ticket down the tower; broom useless in her dead hands. But she paid it no heed. She could feel herself connecting with the broom on a deep level, and only thought one word. 'Away.'

The broom, to her partial surprise (the part of her that was still thinking), responded smoothly, running like a silk banner through the night sky. It was exhilarating. A small smile grudgingly fought its way to her face as she realized why the boys loved this so much.

It was pure freedom. It was as if she'd just injected herself with Speed or something, only so much better, because obviously she wasn't destroying her body, and somehow she knew however many times she did this, it would never be less special.

For a moment she wondered what it would be like to ride on a broomstick with a man who loved her. Old horse-riding style with her sitting in front of him, him behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist. The night air kept her from blushing, but before the thought could go any further, she realized that this entire time the broom had been going in a certain direction without conscious command from her, and was now sloping downward toward a clearing near the lake she knew well.

She smiled with reminiscence (A/N: again, gotta love the Spell Check).

Before she really made friends with Harry and Ron, she would come here to think and occasionally draw the gorgeous nature around her.

And even after they befriended her, she would come here to think contentedly. But she hadn't been to her Spot since she started 5th year, where the O.W.L.S. drained her to nearly raw, an after she had gotten out of the habit that year, she somehow never had time to come again.

She would think of it once in a while, sure, but then put it off again and again.

'I'd forgotten how special this place makes me feel.' she realized.

Hermione stumbled a bit when she landed, right into a bush. But before she could even swear for her aching toe that she'd stubbed on the thick root and her scratched up calves, she couldn't breathe.

'I'm drowning, I'm drowning!!!'were her first thoughts. But then her eyes adjusted a bit more to the dark, only to see a pale hand clamped with tight ease on her throat, and then get blinded again as a previously concealed lantern was held to her face.

Her eyes adjusted faster this time though, and she saw a very disturbed Rhea in front of her, her hand on Hermione's throat. Said hand limped and disappeared as two yelps were heard from the girls: "You?"

A/N: Wow. Lol, hope that was long enough for you guys. So, the very girls they had dreaded seeing, Hermione even skipping meals for it, have just met, one almost strangling the other, and said other's secret Spot not being so secret anymore. Lol, so what the hell now?

Nika