A/N: I am doing well with updates! I'm pleased with me.


'Ginny, you look awful.'

'Thanks, Percy,' she muttered, then winced as another slice of pain cut through her. 'It's just a headache.'

He frowned, reaching over the breakfast table for the water pitcher and pouring her a glass. 'Drink this. You've been getting headaches quite a bit recently.'

'Well, I've been stressed, haven't I?' she replied, taking it. Unfortunately, she didn't have as good a grip on it as she'd thought and it slipped through her fingers, splashing over the wooden table. Glancing up and down the table, she was just thankful no one appeared to notice her stupidity.

Percy seemed worried. Once more his lips curled into a frown. 'That's not typical. You should see Madam Pomfrey about it. Is your vision blurred?'

'I'm alright,' she said dismissively.

'Ginny, I insist!'

Sighing, she finally nodded. 'Alright, I'll talk to her. If it'll shut you up.'


Hermione had opened one of McGonagall's books in an attempt to concentrate on something other than Ginny, but she hadn't succeeded. She was also, in relation to it, dwelling on the utterance of McGonagall's which stuck in her brain- 'How do you reconcile doing what is right and doing what is expected you?'.

Surely, what was right for her at the moment was something which eased Ginny's pain? That was what she felt was right. When they'd met in the corridor the previous night there had been a thawing, yes; but it was fairly minimal in comparison to what she'd enjoyed so recently. And she still couldn't even imagine what Ginny was going through and the role she herself had played in it.

Closing the book, she sighed. She knew what she needed to do. It was just having the… courage to do it which was problematic. But she owed it to Ginny.


Half-wishing she hadn't agreed to this, Ginny knocked on the door of Madam Pomfrey's office. When she was admitted, she sat down hesitantly, feeling the matron's sympathetic eyes on her. 'Hi.'

'Hello, Ginny. Is there something I can do for you?'

'Well, I…' She swallowed. 'Percy told me to come. I didn't want to. You know what he's like.'

Madam Pomfrey smiled slightly. 'Yes. But there must've been a problem in the first place.'

'Yeah,' Ginny said, carefully avoiding looking up. 'I've been getting headaches, quite bad. And,' she added quickly, 'they were happening before… you know. I can't focus on my books, I'm… I'm a little worried to be honest.'


'I've been looking for you,' Harry said quietly, sitting next to her inside the little viewing platform on the seventh floor. 'Thought you'd be in the library but you weren't. What are you doing up here?'

Shrugging, Hermione didn't look to him. 'Just thinking.'

'Anything in particular?'

'I erm…' Still, she didn't glance over to him. 'I've decided to take Professor Dumbledore up on his offer.'

Harry just looked puzzled. 'What offer?'

'After… Afterwards, he said we could go home if we wanted.'

'There's only a couple of days left before the end of term,' he replied. 'What's the point? You'll be going home for Christmas then.'

'No, I wasn't thinking of a break, Harry.'

He sighed. 'You can't just leave.'

'Of course I can.'

'It's cowardly!'

'Maybe it is,' she agreed, though she didn't believe a word of it. In fact, this was the braver thing, she'd decided. 'But it's still my choice.'

'What about Ginny? Have you even thought about her?'

'Of course I have,' she snapped. 'Don't you dare accuse me of not thinking about her. It's for her I'm doing this. She doesn't want to see me everyday, Harry, and I understand that and I respect it so…'

His voice was softer, probably subdued by her outburst. 'So you'll walk away.'

'Yeah,' she said shortly.

'They won't let you. You think they'll let the smartest student in centuries out of the school?'

'They can hardly keep me here against my will.'

'You're mad. This is just the last couple of weeks talking…'

'Maybe, maybe not,' she interrupted. 'But it's still my decision, Harry.'


Having received a note asking her to go to see Poppy Pomfrey as soon as possible Minerva proceeded to the infirmary after reluctantly attempting to eat something for lunch. However, her appetite had been severely lacking in recent days and today was no exception to that new rule.

'Poppy?' she queried when she paused in the doorway of the matron's office. 'You wanted to see me?'

Her colleague smiled tiredly and nodded her into a chair. 'I thought you might be able to help me actually.'

'Oh? How so?'

'I had Ginny Weasley visit me this morning.'

Her attention, which had been drooping, was piqued again. 'Ginny? Is she ill?'

'She's been getting headaches fairly frequently,' Poppy answered. 'I tested her eyes. She needs glasses, but she's refusing them. The longer she goes without the worse her eyes are going to get.'

Minerva sighed. 'I think there's very little I can actually do. I may be her Head of House but that means very little in the current climate.' She was careful with her phrasing, aware that Poppy had no grasp of the full situation. 'She's just lost her father; I doubt her eyes are of concern to her.'

'As true as that may be, Minerva, something needs to be done.'

'I know, I know,' she replied softly, inwardly pondering how she would even attempt that. 'How did she react? Was she angry?'

'A little, yes.'

'Right. Well, thank you for informing me. I will, of course, talk to her.'

After leaving Poppy, Minerva was proceeding back to her office when she was apprehended by Harry Potter. The look on his face informed her, before he even spoke, that this was not going to be pleasant news either.

'Professor, can I talk to you?'

'Come to my office,' she murmured, leading him down the hall. When they were settled, she examined him across the desk. 'Is there something I should be aware of?'

'Probably, yeah.' He paused, obviously thinking it through, then he looked back to her. 'Hermione's planning on leaving Hogwarts.'

Surprised, she frowned. 'Pardon?'

'I didn't believe it either at first, Professor, but I think she's serious.'

Resting back in her chair, she attempted to comprehend the unexpected news. She had thought- she had assumed- that Hermione was slowing coming to terms with the situation. As bad a situation as it was, Hermione was resilient, and Minerva had believed that she could pull through it. Sirius had been an assistance and since the funeral was over and done with… But perhaps she should have expected it. After all, Hermione still felt she had betrayed Ginny irrevocably and what she needed, forgiveness, wasn't forthcoming. Minerva couldn't say with certainty that it would come; but she'd been on the receiving end of a thawing of Weasley tension in regards to herself and she could see of no reason why, eventually, Ginny and the rest of the Weasleys wouldn't offer an olive branch. The trouble with that scenario was, however, that Hermione craved it deeply. That kind of desire could only lead to desperation for the student.

Refocusing her attention onto Harry, she queried, 'When did she tell you this?'

'Just this morning.'

'Did she appear to have contemplated it fully?'

'I think she knew what she was saying, yeah. She's not planning on coming back after Christmas.'

'Thank you,' she answered finally. 'Thank you for telling me.'

He stood and readjusted his glasses. 'Professor, I don't know if you can stop her going, but if you can I'd be grateful.'

'Harry,' she said softly before he turned to leave, 'how are you coping?'

Shrugging, he replied, 'I wish I knew what to do. Everything's falling apart. If Hermione goes…'

'I'll do my best,' she interrupted. 'I promise you.'

'Well, she trusts you. She looks up to you. I can't make her stay, I think there's only you and Ginny could do it.'

Leaving her with that thought, he made his escape. She sat contemplatively for only a few minutes. Feeling herself becoming overwhelmed she reached into her desk and removed a piece of parchment, a movement she had perfected over the last week. If past occurrences were anything to go by, the parchment would be back inside the drawer within a minute. She could never find the words to articulate how she was feeling, nor was she certain she wanted to. The idea of sending a letter was ridiculous anyway. It went against all she had decided was fair.

As predicted, the parchment was safely stowed back inside her desk drawer a few minutes later. For the first time, though, she had actually started writing. Then she'd faltered as the pointlessness became clear. She wouldn't ever send it.


Hermione hadn't moved since Harry had left her. It was only now, as she checked her watch, that she realised that had been over two hours ago. In that time she had simply watched the distant ripples of the Great Lake. She was remembering, as horrible as it was, the time she had spent up in this secret place with Ginny. They'd drank Butterbeer and talked, and she'd felt herself… She'd allowed herself to feel…

It was no issue anymore. The trees shimmered with the cold winter breezes, reminding her that the leaves had dropped from the trees since she was here last. Part of her was dismayed that she'd never see another Hogwarts autumn again; yet a more pressing segment of her screamed that she didn't want to.

'This is where you are.'

The voice startled her a little. Glancing sideways, she found Professor McGonagall a few yards away, evidently having watched her for a minute or so already. 'Yes.'

'Are you hiding?'

'No. Just thinking.'

'May I?' McGonagall questioned, nodding to the spare space beside her. When Hermione shrugged, she sat down. 'This is a beautiful view.'

'I like it.'

'I suppose you'll miss it.'

She didn't look sideways again. She just muttered, 'You've been talking to Harry.'

'Correct. May I ask why the sudden decision?'

'It hasn't been sudden. I should have gone straight away.'

'Hermione,' McGonagall said carefully, 'I don't believe you want to leave Hogwarts.'

'No, of course I do. But I'm doing it because it's right, Professor.'

'This is entirely different,' her teacher answered immediately. 'This is self-sacrifice.'

'And you never do that, do you?' Hermione retorted, still not looking over.

'This isn't about me,' McGonagall said, in a tone of voice that Hermione didn't recognise. It was a mix of iciness and pain, the former obviously having been the intended tone.

Eventually, Hermione replied, 'I can't stay. I'm making things worse for Ginny and I still feel like I'm going over everything every minute of the day. I wish I could get it out of my head. And then I hate myself for thinking that. Because I know that Ginny can't forget it, and I don't deserve to. That's why I have to get out of here. Maybe Ginny can stop hurting so much if I'm not here.'

'Will you?' asked McGonagall quietly.

'No. I don't think so.'

'I don't believe leaving is the solution. Running away from your problems doesn't solve them, Hermione. It means they fester, overtake you.'

Thinking about Mrs Weasley, she said, 'Maybe that's how I want to feel.'

'No,' McGonagall said firmly. 'You need to be stronger than that. You can see a light at the end of this horrible tunnel, I know you can. Some people can't see that, and they react accordingly.'

'Do you think she'll ever come back?' Hermione queried suddenly, glancing at her teacher for the first time in their conversation.

McGonagall visibly reacted. Then she composed herself and gazed out of the window and down onto the grounds. 'In time, I think she'll consider it.'

'I don't…' Trailing off, Hermione struggled with the words. 'I hate feeling like this. I've never felt helpless before. I don't like the sensation.'

'Do you think being away from Hogwarts would lessen it? If so, you have my blessing to leave.'

'I don't know what would help. I feel like a fraud even asking for help!'

'Don't,' McGonagall said tightly. 'You've been through a horrible ordeal, you deserve support.'

'Not as much as Ginny,' Hermione murmured.

'Ginny has her family to grieve with. You're trying to segregate yourself and it won't make things any better.'

'I can't stay,' she repeated. 'I don't see how I can.'

McGonagall was quiet for a minute or more. 'When were you planning on going home for Christmas?'

'I wasn't,' she answered with a shrug. 'I was going to stay here for the holidays. I don't think I'd be very good company at home.'

'Then you'd leave before term starts?'

'Yes.'

'Right. That allows me three weeks to change your mind.'

Hermione shook her head. 'I've decided.'