I think many people don't often realize the fine distinction between being brave and being fearless. Being fearless...that's quite easy, isn't it? If you're not afraid of the dark, you're perfectly content to sit in a dark room for as long as needed. It takes no effort. It takes no courage. But being brave...that's another matter entirely.
Being brave is having fear. Being brave is having doubts. Being brave is closing your eyes and hearing your pounding heart beat in your ears and feeling your palms grow damp.
But most importantly, being brave is taking action. Doing something even though you are afraid. Doing something in spite of being afraid.
Do you know how many times I just wanted to give up? How many times I wanted to escape it all and go live in a faraway land where no one could find me?
And it could have been so easy.
Do I consider myself brave? I don't know. Certain times in my life, I'd say yes. Certain others, I'd say I was anything but.
"Hey, are you okay?"
Hermione sighed, looking up from the long Transfiguration essay she and Harry were currently working on.
"Yes, Harry, I'm fine," she stated.
"Erm...good..." he replied, uncertainly. "You just seemed a bit...troubled."
She rolled her eyes as he looked away. He'd been doing this all week. Asking about her well being. And to be quite frank, it was getting annoying.
It's not that she didn't appreciate his concern. Because she did.
It was just...frustrating.
She wanted things to be normal. She wanted to forget about everything that happened after the Quidditch match and move on. But Harry insisted on treating her as if she were made of glass, like she could break any moment.
And to top it all off, Ginny was now thoroughly convinced that Hermione did, indeed, fancy Ron. And really, who could blame her?
Ron and Lavender kiss in the centre of the common room and suddenly she has an emotional breakdown.
It was almost comical.
And of course, Harry thought the same as Ginny. He never dared voice it aloud, but Hermione could tell. The way he would avoid bringing Ron up in conversation. Or how he would suddenly need her to accompany him to the library, or the Owlery, or the kitchens when Ron and Lavender were getting heated in the common room.
She'd tried at first to convince Harry that she couldn't care less who Ron did or did not snog, but it was to no avail. He would just give her that stupid sympathetic look that proved he didn't believe a word of what she was saying.
But no matter. She would just ignore it the way she'd been ignoring Ginny for the past several months.
Of course, to say she was completely apathetic toward Ron wouldn't be entirely true. She was, in fact, very much irritated by him. He still hadn't apologized for his behaviour towards her last Saturday, and if she was being completely honest with herself, it did hurt her a bit that he was ignoring her.
Then again...she still hadn't apologized for the wild birds she'd set loose on him in the classroom, either. But really, that was hardly significant in comparison.
"So, do you want to call it a night?" Hermione announced, after a rather long bout of silence.
Harry looked up. "Yeah, sure."
"Right..." Hermione said, picking up her things with a sigh.
They'd been spending a lot of time like this in the library lately. It was just like in third year when her and Ron had their huge fight over Crookshanks and Scabbers, and in fourth year when Ron had turned against Harry after his name had come out of the Goblet.
She wondered briefly if the only way her and Harry would ever spend so much alone time together, would be if one of them were in a fight with Ron.
Stop that. You shouldn't be thinking that way, remember? You're just friends. That's all you'll ever be.
"Goodnight, Harry," Hermione said once they entered the common room, not even waiting for a reply before immediately heading up the spiral staircase.
It was still quite early, but she knew Ron and Lavender would probably be in plain sight, and she was simply was not in the mood for Harry's pitying stares.
The thought made her snort aloud.
Maybe I should just start fancying Ron. It'd probably make things much simpler, wouldn't it?
She suddenly heard a light knock on the door, and looked up curiously. "Come in," she called.
Ginny's head popped in hesitantly, her hand placed over her eyes. "Are you decent?"
"Oh, shut up," Hermione replied.
Ginny smirked before entering the room and closing the door behind her. "Just making sure," she said, mock defensively.
"Can I help you with something?" Hermione asked, not looking up from the Arithmancy notes she'd just pulled out.
"How are you?"
Hermione groaned loudly. "Not you, too."
"What?" Ginny responded, surprised.
"Don't you dare start pestering me about my emotional state!"
"Why? Who else is doing such an abominable thing?" Ginny asked.
"Harry, that's who," Hermione replied. "And in answer to you both, I am perfectly fine. All right?"
"Yeah, all right," Ginny said in a tone that clearly stated otherwise.
Hermione simply rolled her eyes. "Is that all? I have studying to do."
"Nope," Ginny said, hopping up onto Hermione's bed and sitting cross-legged. "Who are you taking to Slughorn's party?"
Hermione buried her face further into her notes. "Dunno, hadn't thought about it yet."
Ginny scoffed loudly. "It's in two days!"
"Oh..."
"Well, no matter. I have a plan—"
"No."
"At least hear me out!"
"No."
"Hermione."
Exhaling loudly, Hermione finally looked up. "What?"
"Okay, so originally you were thinking of asking Ron, right?"
Hermione instantly regretted sharing this piece of information with the red-head. "As friends and nothing more," she stated.
"Yeah, yeah, of course," Ginny said, waving her off. "And he's being a complete arse to you at the moment, is he not?"
"Yes...your point?" Hermione replied, bored.
"Well, how about completely infuriating Ron by taking someone he hates to the party?"
Hermione raised one eyebrow. "Like who?"
"Well the way I see it, there are three possible candidates: Zacharias Smith, Cormac McLaggen, or Draco Malfoy—"
Hermione nearly choked on her own saliva. "Have you gone completely mad!?"
"You didn't let me finish!" Ginny said hurriedly. "I was going to say that in reality you really only have two choices because, well, let's face it, Malfoy makes Kreacher look like a gentleman. "
"Umm, no...I have zero choices! Honestly Ginny, do you want me to spontaneously combust by the end of the party? Because I swear that's what'll happen if I'm forced to endure an entire evening in the company of Smith or McLaggen. There'll be messy little bits and pieces of Hermione Granger all over the room!"
"That's quite a ghastly image..."
"Good, keep it in mind," Hermione said brusquely.
"Look, it's just a suggestion, okay? But do try and remember, it'll make Ron furious. And I don't know about you, but I think that would make it all quite worth it. He deserves a little slap in the face after the way he's been acting, don't you agree?"
Hermione crossed her arms with a click of her tongue.
"Just sleep on it, yeah? Ginny asked.
"Mhm."
"Good, let me know what you decide!" she said, before closing the door behind her.
Hermione knew the answer quite well. It was no. Completely, irrevocably, no.
The next morning at breakfast, Hermione tried her best to pretend she didn't notice Ginny's questioning looks from down the table. Instead she continued eating her toast in silence, waiting for Harry to come down to the Great Hall and rescue her from another conversation with Ginny.
He entered through the doors not moments later, much to Hermione's relief.
"Morning," Harry said, taking a seat across from her and running a hand through his hair tiredly.
Hermione ignored the butterflies in her stomach and smiled in response.
If she had even an ounce of the so called courage that she possessed, she would ask Harry to the party instead. They were friends, weren't they? And they were both without dates...
So why hasn't he asked me already? Surely he'd rather go with me than with one of his many stalker fan girls? Or maybe he wouldn't...maybe the idea of taking me is completely appalling to him...
Well you won't know unless you try. Just ask him if he's got a date!
Hermione swallowed hard, her heart beating nervously in her chest. She looked carefully at Harry who had his head resting in his hand as he swirled his spoon in the porridge bowl.
But just as she was about to open her mouth to ask him, a loud screeching giggle erupted nearby.
Harry and Hermione both turned their heads simultaneously toward the source of the sound. It was Lavender. Apparently Ron had said something so utterly funny that Lavender had to go interrupt and dissolve any sort of nerve Hermione had built up just moments previously.
She wanted to groan in frustration or get up and walk right out of the Great Hall in a huff, but she knew that wouldn't help her case against Ron very much. So instead, she sat there, internally cursing the wretched couple.
Harry looked at her briefly, and she stared right back, trying her best to prove that absolutely nothing was wrong.
Well, besides the fact that I'm a coward, Ron's an arse, and Lavender's an annoying tart. Yes, nothing at all.
The rest of breakfast passed by rather uneventfully until out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Ginny head towards her.
"Hey, Harry, why don't we head down to Charms now, yeah?" she said, already half way out of her seat.
"Er, sure," said Harry, a bit taken aback by her abruptness.
As she picked up her bag, Hermione turned to look behind her. Ginny was staring at her with narrowed eyes, but Hermione merely smiled and waved before following Harry out of the Great Hall.
Then something strange happened.
As she and Harry were walking towards the door, she could have sworn she saw a number of people suddenly get out of their seats and walk towards the exit as well.
Namely, girls.
Hermione waited a moment, wondering if it could possibly be some bizarre coincidence. However, when she saw a large group of them rush ahead to position themselves clumsily underneath the mistletoe, her suspicions were confirmed.
"Harry," she said quietly into his ear, "I think we're being followed."
She shifted her eyes discreetly to the left and Harry followed her gaze. Judging by the sudden blush that appeared on his cheeks, he had understood.
And all of a sudden, Hermione found herself having to catch up to him as he increased his pace, looking anywhere but at the girls.
"Slow down, will you!" Hermione exclaimed once they turned into the next corridor.
"Sorry," Harry said, looking slightly embarrassed, and coming to an abrupt halt.
Hermione nearly ran into him, finding her balance just in time. She then broke out into a fit of laughter.
"What?" Harry demanded.
"You!"
"What about me?" he replied, as if daring her to answer.
"You can face the darkest wizard of all time, yet you get scared of a bunch of girls underneath the mistletoe," Hermione said, amusement still evident in her voice.
"I was not scared," Harry stated, shouldering his bag more roughly as he continued his way down the corridor to Charms.
Hermione rolled her eyes and ran to catch up with him. "You could have fooled me," she said, smirking.
"Don't get snarky with me."
"I apologize."
Harry shook his head, smiling despite himself. "I just can't wait for this stupid party to be over."
Here's your chance. Ask him!
"Yeah, about that...um...who do you—?"
"Hi Harry, Hermione!"
Hermione internally groaned.
Is this some sort of sick joke?
"Hey, Neville," Harry replied smiling.
"Hi," Hermione said somewhat forcefully, before turning on her heel and entering the classroom without a second glance behind her.
She took a seat at her usual table, taking out her book, parchment, quill and ink, and waited, tapping her fingers impatiently.
Maybe I'll ask Neville to the party...I helped him enough in Potions for the past five years. He owes me a favour...
Or maybe I'll just go alone. Who says I need a ruddy date, anyway? Society?
After class was over, Hermione bid Harry goodbye as she headed down to Arithmancy, completely ignoring Ron as usual. Not that he seemed to mind, what with Lavender hanging on his arm like a lost child.
Hermione refrained from rolling her eyes yet again, and quickly rushed off, needing to use the loo before class.
She instantly sensed something peculiar as she pushed open the door to the girl's lavatory, however. She could hear a lot of voices, and looking into the reflection of the mirror, she saw a group of about a dozen girls congregated in front of the stalls.
Hermione was just about to walk out to find a different loo when something made her stop.
"And you're sure it'll work?"
"Well it's worth a try, isn't it?"
Hermione heard a couple of girls giggle.
"Of course it is," someone said, suggestively. Then she sighed. "A date with Harry Potter..."
Hermione eyes widened.
No...it couldn't be...
She leaned in closer to the wall that separated her from view.
"Well don't go getting your hopes up. Because he's obviously going to choose me."
"Oh? What makes you say that?" one girl asked sharply. "Are you giving us all the crappy potions and hiding the real stuff for yourself?"
Hermione's heart skipped a beat.
Yes...it could be. They're going to slip him a love potion!
"Oh Anna, what do you take me for?" said the girl in such a sugary sweet voice that it made Hermione want to vomit. "It's just going to come down to whoever Harry finds the most appealing. And well...I hate to break it to you, but...I hear he doesn't really fancy blondes."
Several girls gasped.
"Just you wait, by the end of the night," the girl continued, "I'll finally get to run my hands through that black messy hair of his while we're snogging in a broom cupboard. And with any luck...maybe we'll do even more than snog..."
Hermione could just hear the devious smile in the girl's voice. She couldn't believe it. She simply could not believe it. How could anyone stoop so low?
"How do you plan on slipping him some, then?" the girl named Anna asked, with obvious envy in her voice.
"I'll figure out a way..."
"Well, I don't care what you say; we're still going to try."
A number of girls gave their assent to this statement, and Hermione finally had enough.
Revealing herself from behind the wall, she walked straight towards the group of girls with a determined look on her face.
Upon seeing her, everyone in the lavatory instantly quieted down. If Hermione hadn't known any better, she would have suspected someone had cast a Silencing Charm.
All the girls were staring at her, some with fear, others with what looked like guilt. Romilda Vane simply looked bored.
"Hello," she stated tightly to the group at large.
"What did you hear?" Romilda asked straight away.
"Just enough," Hermione replied evenly. "Now, if you hand in all the potions to me, I won't turn any of you in."
"Don't have them on us," Romilda replied. "Therefore you have no proof, and therefore you can't turn us in."
Hermione clenched her teeth. "Don't think that I'm not going to warn him," she stated. "And if I even imagine that he's acting just the slightest big out of the ordinary, I'll tell him to go straight to Madam Pomfrey to get checked. Then you'll all be in serious trouble."
There was silence once more.
"You should all be ashamed of yourselves," Hermione said with disgust before turning swiftly on her heel and walking out.
She could feel the heat rising to her face in anger as she walked down the corridor in heavy strides. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, Hermione felt what could have been a boulder slam into her side.
"OW!" she exclaimed, almost losing her balance as all her books toppled to the ground. She looked around angrily at the source of the blow.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" said Cormac McLaggen, looking genuinely apologetic. Which was strange, since he rarely ever looked genuine about anything.
"I wasn't looking where I was going!" he continued.
"Clearly," Hermione stated, but with less edge in her voice. "What were you doing running down the corridors, anyway?"
"Er...well I...sort of made some people angry and... let's just say they were a bit larger than I was."
Hermione looked at him strangely. "Right..." she said, slowly. "Well, it looks like you've lost them. I have to go to class, so goodbye."
"Wait, Granger!" he called, just as she was about to walk away.
"I'm really going to be late for class, goodbye," she said, turning to leave once more.
But he grabbed her arm for her to stop.
"Wait!" he exclaimed again. "Would you...like to go to Slughorn's party with me tomorrow night?"
Hermione stared at him for a moment, then burst out into laughter.
However she instantly sobered up when she saw the serious look on his face. "Oh!" she said, suddenly feeling guilty. "You were serious...?"
"Erm...yeah," McLaggen said, looking around somewhat awkwardly.
"Oh..." Hermione said again. "Well I...er...the thing is...can I actually get back to you on that? I'm going to be late for Arithmancy, you see."
"It's a simple yes or no question, Granger," he said, with a little edge to his voice. "But no matter, I'll be awaiting your reply."
"Excellent! I'll see you later," Hermione said, practically running down the corridor.
She couldn't quite comprehend what had just happened, and tried not to think about it as she sat through class. She cringed at the thought of Ginny somehow finding out about this...
Note to self: Don't let Ginny find out about this.
After a quite complex lesson of Arithmancy that added to the already jumbled mess of her mind, Hermione quickly made her way back to the common room to find Harry, hoping that she'd reach him before any girls with love potions did.
And sure enough, when she entered the common room, she found him sitting in one of the chairs by the fire, lazily flipping through a Quidditch magazine.
"Where's Ron?" Hermione asked, as she sat down next to Harry.
He gave her a 'do-you-really-have-to-ask' look before motioning his head to a dark corner in the back.
Hermione felt a fresh wave of annoyance towards Ron. It seemed like he was spending every second of every day with Lavender. And while she didn't really mind, she knew it was affecting Harry. They were best mates, after all.
He just always looked so bored these days, and he barely even talked.
"Hey, you want to do something?" she asked, pulling his magazine down so she could see his face.
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"
"I don't know...talk about Quidditch?" she suggested with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. Which, if she was being honest, turned out to be quite a dismal effort.
Harry seemed to realize this as well because he chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I appreciate the gesture, Hermione, but...I don't think either of us would enjoy that conversation very much. I'm not good at explaining things seven times."
"Oh ha ha, very funny," she replied, not amused. "And yet, somehow I manage to explain Transfiguration to you seven times."
"Touché."
Hermione smiled with satisfaction.
"Speaking of Transfiguration..." Harry started, hesitantly.
"You have got to be kidding me."
"It was so hard, Hermione. And I was unbelievably tired...we had a tough Quidditch practice last night..."
"You're the captain!"
"Exactly, which means I have to put forth twice the effort."
Hermione sighed. "How much did you get done?"
Harry opened up his bag, digging around through various scrolls of parchment, until: "Aha, thought I lost it!"
He handed the paper to Hermione, and she carefully unfurled it.
"It's blank..." she said, looking up at him.
"Exactly," he replied, smiling.
Hermione stared at him for a moment, then scoffed loudly, throwing the parchment at him, before getting up with her books in hand. "Come on, let's get this over with."
"You're a saint, Hermione, you truly are," Harry said, grabbing his bag and following her out of the portrait hole.
"Don't push it."
But as they were nearing the library, Hermione suddenly stopped.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked when he realized she was no longer walking beside him.
"You knew I was going to help you all along!" she exclaimed.
"Er..."
"Why else would you be reading a blasted Quidditch magazine when we have Transfiguration tomorrow morning?" she continued fervently. "God, am I really that predictable?"
"Trust me, Hermione, you're anything but predictable. Most of the time I have absolutely no idea what's going on inside that head of yours," Harry said laughing.
Well, isn't that convenient...
"Whatever, I'm only letting this slide because Christmas is coming up and I'm in a giving mood."
"Well, isn't that convenient," he said, smirking.
Hermione looked at him strangely for a moment, before shaking her head and making her way to a table.
After a brutal hour and half, Harry's paper was completed. And true to her principles, Hermione had only given him mere guidance throughout (much to Harry's dismay).
"It's the only way you'll learn," she stated matter-of-factly.
"Right," Harry replied, his hair a complete mess from the amount of times he had run his hand through it.
"Oh, by the way, you need to be careful," Hermione said, suddenly remembering why she was so anxious to see him in the first place. And she told him all about the encounter she had in the girl's lavatory earlier. "They all seem to have bought Fred and George's love potions, which I'm afraid to say probably work—"
"Why didn't you confiscate them, then?" demanded Harry.
"They didn't have the potions with them," said Hermione scornfully. "They were just discussing tactics. As I doubt whether the Half-Blood Prince could dream up an antidote for a dozen different love potions at once, I'd just invite someone to go with you, that'll stop all the others thinking they've still got a chance. It's tomorrow night, they're getting desperate."
Moment of truth. Moment of truth. Moment of truth.
"There isn't anyone I want to invite," said Harry.
Hermione felt her heart sink.
She didn't see why she was so surprised...she knew he wouldn't want to go with her.
And yet...
It still made her feel a bit empty inside.
"Well, just be careful what you drink, because Romilda Vane looked like she meant business," Hermione said, slightly disheartened.
Harry grimaced, oblivious to Hermione's sudden change in demeanour.
"Hang on a moment," he said slowly. "I thought Filch had banned anything bought at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes?"
"And when has anyone ever paid attention to what Filch has banned?" asked Hermione.
"But I thought the owls were being searched. So how come these girls are able to bring love potions into school?" Harry said.
He then brought up his suspicions about Malfoy and the cursed necklace. But as Hermione explained, love potions could be concealed with mislabelled bottles, while Dark Magic and Dark objects would be detected within seconds.
"—so it would be down to Filch to realize it wasn't a cough potion, and he's not a very good wizard, I doubt he can tell one potion from—"
"What have you been doing to that book, you depraved boy?"
Harry and Hermione both stopped dead as they looked up at the vulturelike countenance of Madam Pince.
"It isn't the library's, it's mine!" said Harry hastily, snatching his copy of Advance Potion-Making off the table as she lunged at it with a clawlike hand.
Hermione grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him away, Madam Pince's shouts of 'despoiled', 'desecrated', and 'befouled' following them out of the library as they quickly made their way into the corridor.
"She'll ban you from the library if you're not careful. Why did you have to bring that stupid book?" Hermione said.
"It's not my fault she's barking mad, Hermione. Or d'you think she overheard you being rude about Filch? I've always thought there might be something going on between them..."
"Oh, ha ha..."
"I'm serious!" Harry insisted. "You don't agree?"
Hermione stared at him as if he were insane. "What on earth led you to that conclusion?"
"I dunno...I've seen Filch lingering around the library a couple of times."
"Filch lingers around everywhere," Hermione said, laughing despite herself. "Any other evidence?"
"Well they seem a perfect fit, don't they?" Harry replied. "Both got really long noses and bony cheeks."
"So, you're saying that if two people look similar...they're bound to fall in love?"
"It worked for Mr. and Mrs. Weasley," Harry pointed out.
Hermione's laughter once again erupted, filling the empty corridor around them.
Harry looked over at her and grinned, mirth dancing behind his green eyes. "What, you disagree?"
Hermione rolled her eyes, smiling. "Of course not," she said. "I just think your reasoning is a little flawed."
"Is that so?"
"It is so."
"What's your reasoning then?" Harry asked.
"Well, to be honest...I don't have one," she said, slowly.
Harry raised his eyebrows as if in question. "Oh?"
Hermione shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know...I don't think there's really a specific reason that people fall in love with each other. I think sometimes...it just happens," she said, swallowing hard as she looked straight into his eyes.
Hermione awoke the last morning before the holidays feeling happier than she had in a very long time. Sure, she still had no idea who she was going with to Slughorn's party. And sure, she and Ron were still not speaking to each other. But somehow, these two factors failed to dampen her mood. In fact, she even thought she might reconcile with him before the holidays.
Unfortunately, things did not go exactly as planned. And unfortunately, Ron had to be a prat and make fun of her in front of the entire Transfiguration class.
All because she laughed at his stupid moustache.
Which, by the way, looked completely ridiculous.
"Hermione, is that you?" said a dreamy voice behind her.
Hermione turned around quickly to see Luna standing by the door of the girl's lavatory. "Oh, hi Luna," she answered quietly.
"You have tears in your eyes," Luna stated, curiously, walking up to her.
Hermione wiped them away furiously, angry at herself for reacting so ridiculously to Ron's derisive behaviour.
It's not as if it were the first time he'd ever made fun of her.
It's just the first time he's ever done it in front of a class full of people.
But still...why should that bother me so much? Malfoy and the Slytherins do it all the time! You don't see me crying because of them...
Well...that's because it's Malfoy and the Slytherins. Not your best friend...
My best friend...
Hermione suddenly felt heat rush to her face in anger. What was his problem anyway? He'd been acting nasty towards her since the week of the last Quidditch match, and she'd done absolutely nothing wrong!
Quite frankly, she was sick and tired of it. It was time for a little payback. Yes, payback.
And she had just the plan.
"Hermione, is something the matter?"
She looked up at Luna who was still standing next to her gazing at her curiously.
Hermione took in a dignified breath and smiled. "Ronald Weasley. That's what the matter is."
And with that, she turned on her heel and left, making her way to the entrance hall for lunch in a very purposeful manner.
When she arrived, she stood there waiting by the doors to the Great Hall. He couldn't be inside yet; she had gotten here fairly early.
Her eyes scanned the incoming crowd coming down the spiral staircase.
Where is he? Hermione thought, impatiently.
And not seconds later she spotted him.
"McLaggen!"
He looked around curiously at the sound of his name.
Hermione walked up to him discreetly, glancing around for any onlookers. Which was quite idiotic, she reasoned. Considering what she was about to do.
"Oh...Hi, Granger," McLaggen said when she reached him. "What do you want?"
"Yes."
"Pardon?" he asked.
"I said, yes."
McLaggen looked at her strangely for a moment before realization suddenly seemed to dawn on him. "Oh...Oh! Er...excellent! Fantastic! I'll...I'll pick you up at eight, then?"
Hermione smiled politely. "I look forward to it."
"Great. You've just made me a really happy bloke, Granger," McLaggen said, giving her what looked like a true smile.
Hermione was a bit surprised by his reaction. She gave a small laugh for lack of anything better to say, then turned around to head into the Great Hall with a bewildered expression on her face.
In the end, it was difficult to tell whether her 'payback' was really worth it all. Sure, she felt extremely gratified with Ron's outraged reaction. And yes, she got some pleasure out of making Ginny spit out her pumpkin juice at the dinner table.
All in all, though, McLaggen was a right pain in the arse. To put it lightly.
"Hello, Hermione, are you escaping again?" Luna asked, appearing out of nowhere and making Hermione jump.
She had to admit, she was quite surprised when Harry told her he was going to bring Luna to the party. Surprised, and somewhat relieved. Because at least she knew they were friends and nothing more.
Not that it mattered if they were more than friends, of course...
"Yes, do you see him anywhere?" Hermione whispered, scanning the room for McLaggen.
"I believe he's talking to the vampire we met earlier," Luna answered, taking a sip from her glass.
Hermione looked at the girl strangely. She didn't recall meeting any vampires...
"Ah! Miss Granger, there you are."
Hermione turned around to see Slughorn standing next to a very tall, dark man with sharp features.
"Miss Granger, I'd like you to meet Mr. Anthony Calloway. Anthony, this is Hermione Granger. One of my very best students!" Slughorn said, giving Hermione a wink.
Hermione smiled politely, shaking the man's hand. This was not the first person Slughorn had introduced her to, and probably would not be the last.
"...It's such a shame that Warren couldn't be here today. You know I always had a soft spot for him," Slughorn said, looking as if he were remembering a fond memory.
"Warren Thanter, you mean?" Calloway asked in his deep voice.
"Oh, but of course," Slughorn replied.
Hermione was unable to stay and listen to the rest of the conversation, however, as she saw McLaggen rapidly approaching.
And this was the manner in which she spent the rest of her night.
It's times like these when I can just forget about everything. I can almost pretend like my life is normal. Is it terrible that there are moments when I sit in my room or the kitchen or by the fire and just wish that I could stay right there forever? That I can just hide away from the world and everyone in it...But I could never do that. Because first, the guilt would chew me up and spit me out into little pieces. And second...because I could never do that to Harry. As long as he needs me, I'll never leave his side. But maybe someday...if he doesn't need me...
Maybe that's when he'll want me by his side.
I guess only time will tell.
Hermione closed the book softly and tucked it away between the clothes in her wardrobe. Her mother had actually gotten her a 'diary' for Christmas. Except, Hermione refused to call it such. Even 'journal' felt a bit weird. Instead, she stuck to the term 'memoir'. It sounded much more sophisticated, albeit a tad presumptuous. But no matter.
She liked to imagine that, maybe someday, she could in fact write a book of her own. Merlin knew she'd have enough to write about by the end of the war.
Assuming she made it out alive, that is...
"How cheerful," Hermione muttered to herself, getting up from her place at the desk and opening the curtains to let some light into her room.
She heard a knock on her door and turned to see her father pop his head into the room.
"Breakfast is ready. What are you up to?" he asked.
"Nothing, just contemplating the many facets of life. I'll be right there," Hermione answered.
"Sounds exciting. But shouldn't you be watching television or making snow angels or something?"
"No, and...I'm not seven," she replied.
"Fair enough," her dad stated. "Oh, by the way, I made chocolate chip pancakes."
Hermione instantly squealed and jumped up from the bed, pushing her father out of the way to hurry downstairs.
"I suppose ten more years don't make much of a difference, then?" Hermione could hear her dad say behind her, a smile clearly evident in his voice.
The rest of the holidays were spent in very much the same relaxed manner. The very last day before the start of term, she found herself secretly wishing again that she could just stay at home forever.
With aching sadness, Hermione realized that she wasn't sure if she would be coming back in the summer. Who knew what was going to happen with the war and Voldemort. And this could very well be the last time in a long time she would see her room.
"You all packed?"
Hermione turned around and saw her mother enter the room.
"Yeah," Hermione replied quietly, trying her best to fight the quiver in her voice.
"What's wrong, dear?" her mum asked, concern instantly flooding her features.
"Nothing! I'm just going to miss home that's all."
Her mother didn't seem completely satisfied with this answer, and continued staring at her curiously.
She then sighed deeply, taking a seat on her daughter's bed. "There's so much I don't know about you, Hermione, isn't there? I know you haven't always told us everything. Maybe you just didn't want to frighten us or have us worry. Whatever the reason may be...But, I never said anything before. I never brought it up. Do you know why?"
"Why?" Hermione whispered in response.
"Because I trust you."
Hermione could no longer fight back the tears that had been threatening to escape from her eyes.
"I trust you, sweetheart. But the one thing I regret the most in life, is that I can't be there for you. I wish I could understand. I wish I could be a part of your world. I wish I could help you. I feel so...useless and powerless to you." Her mother looked down for a moment, taking in a deep breath. "No mother should ever feel like that, Hermione. No mother should ever feel like that..."
With tears now blurring her vision, Hermione wrapped her arms around her mother with all the strength she could muster. "You're wrong, Mum. You know and understand me better than anyone. And when I'm with you I feel safe. And I...I just love you so much!" she said, her voice going an octave higher.
They both sat like that for some time, crying into each other's arms, not quite sure what exactly they were crying about, but just knowing that they needed to.
"Where are you going?" Hermione asked her mother when she stood up abruptly.
"Just looking for something," she replied, scanning Hermione's many shelves filled with books, awards, stuffed animals, and the like. "Aha!"
Hermione face instantly broke out into a smile when she saw what her mother was holding. It was the Wizard of Oz musical snow globe that she had cherished so much when she was a child. It had a small Dorothy inside standing among a beautiful meadow. And on the outer base was a picture of the yellow brick road leading up to the Emerald City.
But Hermione's absolute favourite part was that when wound, it would play the song "Somewhere Over the Rainbow".
"I remember when you were little, you'd be upset and crying over something and you'd run into my arms with this old thing and keep playing it over and over and over—"
"Yes, Mum, I remember," Hermione said laughing, taking the snow globe into her hands and holding it fondly.
"So, what do you say? Once more for old time's sake?"
Hermione nodded, smiling. And just like she used to, wound the little snow globe as far as it would go.
Her mother sat down next to her on the bed, scooping her up into her arms and holding her close as she smoothed down her hair.
Just like any music box, the tune held a certain eeriness to its timbre. Almost as if it were taking you back to a different time, a different place, a different life. It was comforting, yes. But only in the nostalgic sort of way.
As the music slowly came to an end, Hermione looked up at her mother with a smile.
"Do you want to take it with you?" her mum asked.
Hermione stared at the snow globe in her hands for a moment. "No, I want to leave it here," she said quietly. "I want to know that it will always be here waiting for me. That it'll always be home."
A/N: Hey guys! I'm so incredibly sorry for the long wait! With finals and the holidays and all that mess, I just simply could not find the time. But hey, at least it's extra long, yeah? I'll have much more time to update now that I'm off of school for a couple of weeks so yay! Thank you so much to those of you who have reviewed and read this story and just stuck with it. I'm telling you now, and I'll probably continue to repeat this: This story will require your patience. Period. Feel free to ask me questions and I will try my best to answer them. I still haven't responded to some of you, but I promise I'll get to that! But once again, thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter!