This section of the story covers a fairly boring time in Hermione's life in which her biggest concern is what to do over her first Easter holiday at Hogwarts. For those of you who have complained about Hermione's already intense attachment for Ron, you might find yourself disappointed. I promise to go back through and edit this a little more in the future to try to keep Hermione unbiased in her affection for both her best friends. I've already kind of tweaked it a little, but I'm still a tad disappointed with the end result.

All that being said, I know it's been forever since I updated. Sorry. I do have the whole story finished, it's just taking the time to put it on here that's been difficult. Hopefully, I'll have it all uploaded soon. Again, feel free to review/favorite/follow, and be honest with me. I take criticism rather well (some things hurt me, I'm not going to lie, but I try to grow from every bit of criticism I receive), so don't worry if you decide to review and don't like what you've read. J.K. Rowling owns (most) of the characters and the plot.

5 March 1992: Thursday

4:32 pm

Ron has been exclusively using the quill set I bought him in classes. A couple of Ravenclaws asked him all about them in Transfiguration on Monday, and Professor Sprout even asked him where he got such a nice set of eagle quills. 'Ask Hermione. They were a birthday present from her.' It's nice that he appreciates my present so much. I feel like the best friend in the world.

'If you buy me anything for my birthday this year,' Harry mumbled to me after Defence Against the Dark Arts yesterday, 'make sure it's not the same thing you got Ron.'

'Why? Don't you like it?' I asked with a frown.

'Of course. It's a brilliant gift, honestly. I just want Ron to feel this special for as long as possible.'

Harry really is wonderful. He really cares for Ron and wants him to feel just as extraordinary as everyone thinks Harry is. I quite love that about him.

Well, time for Flying. Today we're doing laps around the Quidditch Pitch. Ugh.

10:04 pm

Flying was terrible today. I'm so embarrassed.

We've been practising handling a broom at slow speeds close to the ground lately. Today, Madam Hooch asked us to try speeding up and flying higher as we zoomed around the Pitch. I told myself I could do it, but…

…I crashed. Terribly. I just kept going faster and faster, and I accidentally zoomed into a goal post. I'm all right—no injuries whatsoever, which Madam Hooch says is the closest thing to a miracle she's ever seen—but I broke my broomstick that I was assigned on the first day of class. Now I have to use a World War II era Moontrimmer which, according to Ron, is even more unstable than my first broom.

'Don't worry, Hermione,' Harry comforted me over dinner. I was sitting there, pushing my peas around my plate with my fork, completely melancholy. 'Loads of people struggle with flying.'

'Yeah, and you're Muggle-born,' Ron added. 'One of you lot had to struggle a bit.'

'One of us lot?' I asked. 'What on earth is that supposed to mean?'

Ron looked bewildered. 'Just that you never had the chance like me or any other half or purebloods to practise until now.'

'Harry's practically a prodigy and he never had practise! You can't just stereotype Muggle-borns like that, you know. You sound completely idiotic when you do!'

Ron's jaw dropped. 'I didn't mean it like—You don't know—Why are you being so infuriating right now? I'm just trying to help you!'

'No you're not! You're degrading me for being born into my family. Well, I'm sick of it! Good night!' I stood up dramatically and stormed out, completely fuming, my face beet red from aggravation.

It's been two and a half hours since then and I feel like such a fool. I know Ron wasn't trying to make me feel bad and that he was only trying to help. I'm a smart and very capable witch, but I just can't get the hang of flying and it's mortifying. I should apologize for being so irrational (Ron would never tease me about my family), but I can't, because I know Ron wants to hold the fact that he's better at this over my head.

I think I'll just go to bed instead.

10 March 1992: Tuesday

I'm on schedule with my studies. Yesterday I began taking detailed notes from my books, starting with my favourite (A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration) and working through them in that order (finishing with either One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi or Magical Theory—the trouble with loving all your books is that it makes it difficult to decide which you dislike the most).

My fight with Ron is over, too, though I'm sure there were no worries where that was concerned. I woke up on Friday feeling horribly ashamed of my behavior and we had it all (relatively) sorted out by lunchtime. I say "relatively" because Ron was still rather cross that I shouted at him, and even though he was speaking to me again, his answers were very short and nasty.

It was the weekend that really did us some good. Harry, Ron, and I have spent the last few months worrying far too much about everything—Fluffy, Harry's mysterious cloak, the Philosopher's Stone, Quirrell, Snape, and schoolwork—that we needed a distraction. The Hufflepuff/Slytherin match on Sunday did a nice job of that. Harry and Ron have both attended the other Houses' games so far, but this was the first one they ever talked me into attending. It was fun! Well…as fun as Quidditch can be. It was nice to cheer on a team with Harry by our side at least, and even though Hufflepuff lost, Ron and I were fully reconciled by the end of the match.

Still nothing new happening with Professor Quirrell, Fluffy, or Snape. I'm starting to wonder if maybe we jumped to conclusions too quickly, or if Harry might have dreamed that encounter between Snape and Quirrell in the Forbidden Forest.

Time to start heading to Charms for our first lesson. Ron's rolling his eyes about me writing in you all the time. Whatever.

12 March 1992: Thursday

Letter from Samantha this morning:

Dear Hermione,

Sounds to me like you're keeping yourself busy. I don't intend to study quite that hard, but then I'm not taking all new subjects like you are. I think I'll just limit myself to studying in April and May for my end of term exams.

I just found out today that my school takes the Easter holidays off. We'll be out of school from 13 April until 20 April, so I'll be home all day every day that week. Is Hogwarts taking an Easter break? I know you're magical and I doubt magical people celebrate religious holidays, but you did take Christmas off, so I was just wondering if I should be expecting you. My friends Michelle and Christie will be around and they really want to meet you.

Let me know, okay?

Love,

Samantha

I never even considered that we might have Easter off. I suppose I'll look at one of my class schedules today and start trying to make a decision. I kind of hate the thought of leaving school, especially since I had to leave during Christmas and Harry and Ron stayed here, but it might be for the best. I know Mum would probably love to see me, especially with all that's happened lately. And I do want to meet Samantha's new friends…

…looks like I might be riding the Hogwarts Express back to London alone again.

13 March 1992: Friday

According to Hagrid, we have a two week break every year for Easter. 'O' course we take Easter off!' Hagrid exclaimed when I asked. 'We may not observe ev'ry religious holiday, but we a' least celebrate tha'!'

I think Samantha might be surprised when I tell her how offended Hagrid seemed at that idea.

Our break is from 5 April - 20 April (we'd be coming back to Hogwarts on Monday instead of Sunday, with classes resuming on the 21st). I suppose since two whole weeks are devoted to the holiday, I might as well go home for them, even if I would rather stay here and keep a close eye on Fluffy, Quirrell, and Snape. I also want to enjoy a holiday with Ron and Harry, since they are my closest friends now.

But Mum needs me and Samantha wants me to meet her friends. I suppose I'll write her a letter now saying I'll be home.

I wish I didn't feel so sad about this. I feel like a terrible friend.

19 March 1992: Thursday

…Boys.

Well, not really boys in general. Just my boys.

I casually mentioned having a look at Ron's study schedule I made for his birthday as we were walking back from Flying. 'Final exams are coming up, you know,' I said nonchalantly, pretending I'm not at all nervous.

'Not until June,' Harry argued, deftly avoiding a puddle.

Ron stepped right through it. 'Yeah, our exams are so far away that the professors haven't even mentioned them yet. Just take a deep breath and enjoy your life for once.'

I rolled my eyes, but said no more. We have eleven weeks until our exams. How can they be so calm?

I do have good news, though: My own notes are right on schedule. I've been working on the 'incantations' section of my notes from my books and will have it done by Saturday. I suppose there is something satisfying in knowing that when it comes time for exams, I'll be ready and Harry and Ron will be panicking. Although I don't want them to struggle too much. They are my friends.

Ugh…if only they'd listen to me and just get a couple hours of study time in a day.

20 March 1992: Friday

8:16 am

More rain! I swear, it's been raining all week.

At least it's not freezing. I do feel sorry for Harry since he has to practise in this mess.

Potions today. Yipee.

6:17 pm

Ron has detention with Snape tomorrow night.

Well, it's not really detention. Today as we were working on our Herbicide, Snape passed back last week's assignment. I received an E, which most students would be happy with, but I'm not. I really think I deserved an O, but he took off points because of my use of the Oxford comma.

Anyway, when he reached Ron, he asked, 'And what do you call this, Weasley?' passing Ron's scroll of parchment above his cauldron. People looked up from their work and Draco Malfoy even turned around in full to watch them with open-mouthed excitement.

'A job well done?' Ron guessed. He unfurled the scroll and gasped in horror. 'A T?! What did I do to deserve a T?!'

'Clearly nothing at all, and don't you dare use that tone with me. Five points from Gryffindor. This was the worst excuse for homework I've ever seen. Something I'd expect from Potter here, certainly, but not from a pureblood.' He stressed the last word, as if Ron's family had anything to do with his aptitude and as if Harry's Muggle-born mother/upbringing lessened him. Ron didn't answer, his ears turning red with mortification. I felt humiliated for him, suddenly aware of just how well I'd done in comparison.

'Tomorrow night, you will report to this classroom and redo your essay,' Snape commanded. 'Shall we say 7 o'clock?'

Ron couldn't argue. When we left class, I started to speak, determined to cheer Ron up, but he cut me off. 'There's no need to gloat, okay?'

'I wasn't-'

'You can't even wait until we're out of earshot of Snape before you start pointing out how stupid I am, can you?'

'I don't think-'

'This would have never happened if you would have remembered to check my work.'

'You can't be serious!' I snapped. I know I shouldn't have, but when Ron gets like this, I can't help but rise to his bait. 'It's not up to me to make sure you get good grades, Ronald! You have no one to blame but yourself!'

'Don't call me that!' he shouted, but I was already halfway down the corridor, determined to get away from him.

I hate it when we fight like this. I mean, yeah, sometimes it feels good when I'm stressed, but it also hurts my feelings. He's so petty and mean. And it really hurts that Harry never seems willing to speak up for me.

Anyway, I was going to gather the books I used to write my essay so he could take them to the dungeon tomorrow. But now I just don't know.

9:34 pm

Sometimes I hate it when Harry's right, and sometimes I love it.

This time…I'm not sure.

Ron came over to me after dinner. I was seated at a low table, away from our usual spot on the couch in front of the fire. I was determined to avoid them both—Ron for being such a prat and Harry for always choosing Ron's side.

But instead of continuing with his steadfast idiocy (as is the norm), Ron said, 'I know I was mean. Harry reckons you were trying to make me feel better, but I wouldn't let you talk.'

'Well, Harry's right,' I mumbled as I stared at my Incantation Notes. I was determined not to look at him, a little embarrassed that he was apologising. That isn't how it usually goes with us. We normally just pretend nothing happened. I suppose Harry must have been really right this time.

'What…erm…what were you going to say?'

'I was going to offer to let you use the books I used when I wrote my essay. I wrote down the titles after we got out of class.' I reached into my bag and pulled out what was now a crumpled sheet of parchment. I'd been so angry afterward that I nearly threw it away, but I kept the list in the hope that Ron would do exactly what he was doing now. Or in the hope that we'd pretend we were okay.

'Right.' Ron sat down and read the list slowly. 'Guess I'm going to the library tomorrow. Unless you have these books in your dorm.'

'Nope,' I said, still working on my notes.

We were silent for a while, me scratching away at the parchment with my quill and Ron sitting next to me. Then, out of nowhere, he asked, 'Why do you hang out with…us? You know me…a-and…Harry, I guess.'

I got the distinct impression that he wasn't really asking why I spend time with Harry and it was more about him. 'Because I like being friends with you…both of you, that is.'

'Oh, right,' Ron said. 'Me too…both of you.'

And that was the awkward ending to my night. After a few more minutes of silent study, I told Ron I was too tired to study and excused myself for bed. Lavender and Parvati keep pestering me, because they heard me promise Ron I was going to sleep and they can hear me writing in you. But I don't care if they know I lied to him. I just had to get Ron's odd apology out of my mind and onto paper.

21 March 1992: Saturday

4:40 pm

So Ron's going to the dungeons tonight and Harry's going to be at Quidditch practice. I think I'll take the time to work on my notes and write to Mum and Dad. They need to know that I'm intending to come home in a couple of weeks for Easter.

I'm still having mixed feelings about that, by the way. It just doesn't seem right. I know I should want to spend time with my family and I do, but at the same time, I feel like I need to be here for some reason. More than likely, It's either anxiety because of exams (if I go home, I think I'll devote even less time to study and I'll throw off my schedule), or the terrible sense of dread about Snape and Quirrell. I don't know.

7:14 pm

Harry's back from practice already! I feel bad, because usually they're not done until 7:30-7:45 (in which case they end up having to rush supper). I already ate with Ron at 6:00 and I really don't like the thought of Harry eating dinner alone. I suppose I'll go with him to the Great Hall and have a couple of glasses of pumpkin juice to clear my head before I write home.

8:09 pm

We're back in the common room. Harry and I just had the most interesting conversation we've probably ever had. I feel like we just took a rather huge step in our friendship.

Up until now, if we've ever discussed our home lives, it was really just explaining the basics. My parents are dentists, I'm an only child, I come from Wandsworth in London. His parents passed away; he lives with his horrible aunt, uncle, and cousin; he's from Surrey.

But tonight Harry could see there was something preoccupying my thoughts. 'I know you take school seriously, Hermione, but there's no point in letting it ruin your time with your friends,' he said after I was silent for a full five minutes.

'Hmm? I'm sorry, Harry, I was thinking about home.'

He stopped shoveling his beef stew down to stare at me sadly. 'Feeling homesick?' he asked.

I sighed. 'No, actually. Quite the opposite.'

Harry looked bewildered. 'Your parents treat you right, don't they?' I suppose that must have been the obvious question to jump to Harry's mind. He does, after all, come from an abusive home.

'Of course they do!' I insisted. 'That's why I'm so upset. I should want to go home, shouldn't I? I should want to be there, but I don't. I'd rather be here with you and Ron.'

'Who says you have to go home? Summer doesn't start until June.'

'But Easter's right around the corner and we get two weeks off,' I explained patiently. Comprehension dawned in Harry's eyes and he gave me a nod, prodding me to continue. 'I have a friend back in Wandsworth—Samantha—and she's really looking forward to me coming home during Easter so I can meet her friends Michelle and Christie. I haven't responded to her yet and I haven't told Mum and Dad, but I figure if we get two weeks off, I'm kind of obligated to go, aren't I?'

Harry gave it some thought, taking the time to gnaw on some bread in the process. 'If you don't want to go home—if you think you belong here during Easter, that is—surely you can explain it.'

'What? Explain to my mother who just miscarried that I won't be able to be there for her during a holiday? That hardly seems fair.'

I didn't realise I'd said it until it was out. I've never told either of my friends about Mum and for good reason. Harry's jaw dropped, exposing the bit of chewed bread in his mouth. 'You never said your mum was pregnant.'

'I didn't think it would work out,' I shrugged.

'Why not?'

'Because my Mum's lost at least eight children in pregnancy during my life and more before that.' I went on to explain about how Professor McGonagall told Mum and Dad that I was a miracle and how my magic protected me in Mum's womb. 'I guess they're just hoping for another child like me…one that is magical enough to survive.'

We were walking back to the common room by this point, and I was too uncomfortable to turn my head and look for Harry's reaction. 'That's terrible,' was all he said.

'I know, which is why I feel like a horrible daughter for not wanting to go home. Mum needs me right now and I'd rather be here.'

'There's nothing wrong with being a little selfish,' Harry said while jumping over a trick step. 'I mean, yeah, your mum would probably like to see you, and I'm sure your friend is dying to introduce you to her friends, but shouldn't you have the final say in where you spend your time?'

Those words have stuck with me for several minutes now. I think Harry might be right. So many of my decisions are self-sacrificing. Shouldn't I be able to say that I'd rather stay at school and study (omitting, of course, the stuff about Fluffy, Snape, and Quirrell)? Surely Mum and Dad would understand.

I'm just worried Samantha won't.

Anyway, it's a good thing I have friends like Harry to back me up. I don't know what I'd do without him.

23 March 1992: Monday

'Harry told me that you were having a hard time deciding what to do about Easter,' Ron mentioned as soon as we were alone in the courtyard at second break. Harry had gone to where Oliver Wood was chatting away with his friends to ask him something about Quidditch.

A twinge of annoyance triggered my stomach at the words. That conversation between Harry and me was supposed to be private. What else had he told Ron? That my Mum miscarried? That I'm only alive because of my magic? I couldn't stop myself from groaning. 'Why did Harry have to tell you?' I wondered aloud.

'Why didn't you tell me?' Ron asked. He too sounded weirdly irritated, though I wasn't sure why. 'I spend more time with you than he does, and yet you never thought to mention that your family wants you home for two weeks in April.'

Oh. That was it—Ron was hurt that I'd confided in Harry rather than him. 'I didn't think you would care, honestly,' I said. 'It's just a silly holiday break, and you have Harry to keep you company.'

'I do too care! The three of us are best friends, aren't we? We should share everything equally!'

He's never referred to me as a best friend before. I could feel my cheeks growing hot at the idea. Only Samantha had ever really felt that way about me. Everyone else was either scared of my magic or intimidated by my intelligence. I don't know why, but it was very flattering.

'Of course we are,' I said, still blushing. Ron's face was such a normal colour. He wasn't embarrassed or thrilled with suddenly being best friends. It was just natural to him. Somehow this made me blush even more.

Hermione, you're being ridiculous, I told myself. Shaking it off, I continued, 'But Harry noticed I was feeling down first, so I confided in him. If you would have noticed, I would have done the same. Probably quicker, actually, because we do spend so much time together.'

This seemed to satisfy Ron. After a lap around the courtyard, he said, 'You want to know what I think?'

'Sure.'

'I think you should stay for Easter and help me and Harry study. Or at least give that as your excuse to your friend and family. They'll understand.'

'What makes you so certain?' I asked.

'Because you're Hermione Granger, and that's what you do.'

We spent the rest of second break laughing with each other over my apparently insane study habits and Ron's lack thereof. I really do love spending time with him. It would be a shame to miss out on Easter, with no classes and less stress. And he probably really does need my help with studying.

27 March 1992: Friday

Finally wrote a letter to Mum and Dad. I'm copying it in here before I send it out with Harry's owl Hedwig:

Dear Mum and Dad,

Classes are going well, as usual. I just got the highest marks on our latest Defence Against the Dark Arts project (a presentation about magical dangers in Alaska). I also got an E on a Potions essay. I'm a little disappointed, but I suppose it was bound to happen. Professor Snape is not a very fair teacher and he hates Gryffindor. He also seems to hate that I'm always ready to answer any questions he poses. And he doesn't like that I use the Oxford comma. I tried to explain that it's proper grammar, but he threatened detention, so I stopped arguing.

My friends are doing well too. Harry's still practising nearly every day for Quidditch. Ron, meanwhile, spends a lot of his time defending his self-appointed title of Best Wizard Chess player. Only a couple of people in Gryffindor have beaten him, and that's only because he let his guard down. I really enjoy their company. I suppose they're not like the friends you would have expected me to make. They don't get perfect grades, they're not always up for an academic debate, and sometimes I find myself needing to explain things to them that would be common sense to Samantha or you. But it doesn't matter how similar they are to me—they like me for who I am. They don't patronise me for loving my classes. I know sometimes I irritate them, but they're still willing to see past it when that happens and just be my friends.

Which is why I'm thinking about staying at Hogwarts over Easter break. I found out last week that the break is two weeks long. I would love to come home and I realise how much I'm needed. But my friends need me here too, and I kind of want to be here for them. Our exams are very close and neither of my friends are prepared. They've both asked me for help and I feel like this is my chance to really lend them a hand. I hope that's all right.

I love you so much. Be sure to tell me how everything is at home. I miss you.

Love,

Hermione

28 March 1992: Sunday

6:55 am

I went to bed far too early last night and now I can't sleep anymore. I know I should be spending this time—the couple of hours before Harry and Ron wake up—working on my homework, my notes, or on a letter to Samantha explaining my choice for Easter. But I don't want to do either of them, especially the last one.

But I know if my parents tell Samantha that I'm not coming home before she receives a message from me, it'll make her feel like she doesn't matter to me or something. Of course, that's not true, but sometimes she can be so stubborn. Just because I say she's important, it doesn't mean that I'm showing it, and she'll be bound to believe the negative.

So, I guess I'll be spending my morning trying to sort this all out.

1:01 pm

Dear Samantha,

I've spent a week or so considering my options. Our Easter break is two weeks long, and while I know I should come home and spend time with you, I already promised Harry and Ron I'd stay to help them begin preparing for exams. I had to decide between breaking my promise to them or disappointing you. I'm sorry, but I think I'd be a worse friend if I broke the promise.

I hope you understand. I don't want you to think you're unimportant to me, because you're not. Being away from you has only taught me how much you mean to me and I can't wait to see you this summer. I want to meet Michelle and Christie and just have a normal life over the summer holiday. I can promise you that.

Other than that, school is going well. There's a lot happening beyond classes (another reason I should stay) that I'll probably tell you about when I see you next. You'll find my adventures really interesting, I'm sure. I wish you could go on them with me.

Tell me how you feel about this. I'll be worrying until I hear from you.

Your friend,

Hermione

5 April 1992: Sunday

Sorry I haven't written. I suppose I've been too busy with my studies, homework, projects, helping Harry and Ron (because they're actually trying to study now!), checking on Quirrell and Fluffy, and writing with Mum, Dad, and Samantha. I'm going to paste into your pages two letters I received in the last week from each of them. Mum and Dad's (written by Dad) was sent on 30 March and Samantha's on 2 April.

Dear Hermione,

While we did wish to see you (it feels like an eternity has passed since Christmas!), and we had planned to surprise you with a trip to Wales over the holiday, I have to admit that your staying at Hogwarts works out well for us. Your Mum is overworking herself, I think, and it might help if we have some quality time together away from work. I know Wales isn't particularly romantic—she's been begging to go to France and we WILL be visiting family in Wales, so that's a tad disappointing—it may make her happy to be away from Wandsworth together for a while. We do want to see you, of course, but maybe that's best left for June.

Remember to write and tell us how your Easter goes (how do wizards celebrate?) and we'll be sure to update you on our trip to Wales.

Love,

Dad

At first it was a little awkward reading that my Dad is planning a romantic trip, but I'm glad I'm not going to get in the way of their quality time. I'm not sure when they leave, and I've written since the 30th to learn more, but Mum replied that she didn't think they were going to Wales now that I wasn't coming home. So, I might have spoiled that surprise.

Anyway, here's the letter from Samantha:

Hermione,

Don't worry about not coming home this time. Apparently both of my new friends already have huge plans for the week. I rather thought that, like me, they'd stay home with their parents. It seems like everyone has to travel or work over big holidays. Michelle's mum is an actress and they're traveling up to Edinburgh for some sort of Shakespearean festival. They're probably doing a production of Macbeth. Christie meanwhile is going to spend her week volunteering with her parents at a homeless shelter. It's nice, but she wouldn't have had the time to meet you anyway.

It still would have been nice to see you. But I don't blame you for staying. Like you told me a couple of letters ago, the material you're learning is all new to you, and you need to spend as much time as possible practising/helping your friends learn. It's not like you can legally do that at home.

Be sure to write to me over the break. I may get quite lonely.

Samantha

I felt horrible when I read that note, and I quickly wrote back to tell Samantha that Mum and Dad were planning a trip to Wales, so I wouldn't have been home either. I think that helped. I'm sure she's still lonely, but I wouldn't have been home anyway.

Oh no. Must go. Ron was trying to transfigure a twig into a quill and somehow he bewitched it into a walking stick (the insect). IT'S ON MY LEG!