Hermione wakes after spending the night hiding from the Gryffindors. On her return to the tower, she runs into the one person she really doesn't want to see.

The first thing Hermione notices as she wakes up the morning after her disastrous Saturday is how quiet the room is.

Rolling onto her back, she lets out a loud yawn and stretches, revelling in the most delightful night's sleep she's had in a long time on the most comfortable mattress she's ever slept on. She doesn't open her eyes yet, desperate to enjoy this moment of peace for a moment longer before she has to face whatever the day wants to throw at her.

Once she's settled again under the soft goose-down duvet, she takes a deep breath and allows the still prevalent smell of lavender and clary sage to fill her nostrils and quiet her usually chaotic brain. Now would be the perfect moment to write, uninterrupted by awful roommates, friends who are no longer talking to her or Tonks.

With a contented moan, she reaches down the side of her bed for her bag, fumbling blindly, but it's a little bit out of her grasp. Hermione grumbles, then forces herself into a sitting position, letting her eyelids open in their own time.

There's no rush this morning. It's a Sunday, it's not like anyone is talking to her anyway, and there's nowhere she needs to be.

The bleariness disappears, replaced by a momentary panic that snatches at her heart when she spots that the heavy red and gold curtains, which she usually takes great pains to draw tightly around her bed every night, are wide open, exposing herself to the rest of the room. But as she peers further into the still darkness, the realisation hits her, and she remembers where she fell asleep last night.

The Room of Requirement.

Tonks had suggested that Hermione hide in the come and go room after the teenage princess dissolved into another crying fit on the stairs, much to the horror of the group of first-years who were riding up to the Gryffindor common room with them.

"Come on," the Auror had said, resting her hand on Hermione's shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. "You need a break from everyone, tonight. And I know a place that'll help."

Hermione hiccuped before responding, "But then they'll know I'm avoiding them. Won't that make it worse?"

"Doesn't matter. You deserve a break."

That had been the end of the discussion.

As soon as the staircase clicked into place on the seventh floor, Tonks pulled them away from the corridor that led to Gryffindor tower and pushed Hermione in the opposite direction, towards the tapestry of Barnaby the Barmy. Hermione didn't have the energy to resist.

"I'll send a Patronus to Elphias now. He's taking the night shift. I'm sure he won't mind too much, though. It doesn't make a difference which door you're standing outside of when you're on guard."

⁂

With a sigh, Hermione drifts out of her memories and back into the current time. She knows she can't stay here forever. Tonks will be back on shift shortly, and Hermione is sure the Order member will knock the door down to force her out of her sanctuary if Hermione doesn't show her face at the agreed time. Plus, Crookshanks will need feeding, and it would be cruel if she allowed him to starve because she's having an awful day.

Not that he couldn't do with losing a few pounds.

Nobody in the tower would have looked after him whilst she was away. Ron was her go-to person when she was stuck studying around Crookshanks' mealtimes, and there's no way he would have helped her out last night. He doesn't even know she didn't make it to her dormitory after their head to head yesterday.

Hermione slides her hand under her pillow and locates her wand where she stowed it last night. She twists her fingers around it, letting the familiar knots of wood comfort her before lifting it from its hiding place and muttering the word, "Lumos". The lights around the room ignite, glowing at the right level that'll allow her to see her belongings without blinding her still sleep-filled eyes.

With one last stretch, she reaches down the side of the bed again and locates her bag. After pulling it up onto the mattress, she digs past the awful old lady clothes Queen Beatrice sent her to wear to princess lessons and locates her diary and favourite quill.

Sunday 6th October 1996, 07:29 am

Dear Diary,

So, the rest of my day yesterday didn't go any better. Actually, that's the understatement of the century. It was HORRIFIC.

Merlin, that sounds dramatic.

It's a good job that Grandmother only gets to see me on a Saturday afternoon because if she thought the bags under my eyes yesterday morning were terrible, she would have been devastated by the way I looked when I put myself to bed. Although, why the room thought I needed a mirror close to my bed, I don't know. But apparently, it manifests what its users need.

Maybe it thought that a reminder of why Ron and I were fighting was what I most desired before going to bed, but I was far from that princess by the time my day was over. I had a puffy face, a snotty nose and red and blotchy marks covered my skin from my forehead, down my neck and way past the neckline on my t-shirt.

There was no way I looked like royalty, that's for sure.

One good thing that came out of yesterday, I guess, is if I do wish to show my face to the students of Hogwarts today, I now have a wealth of magic I can use to cover up the rest of the mess I made of my face. Of course, I don't want to become one of those girls who can't leave their room without a full face of makeup (not that there's anything wrong with that, if that's how people choose to live their life—there's no judgement here), but knowing that I have those tools under my belt fills me with a sort of confidence I've never felt before.

But that girl isn't me, and as much as I secretly enjoyed my new look yesterday, it was clear that Ron, Harry and Ginny thought differently. And without the backing of my closest friends, especially the boy that I think I might be in love with, I don't want to contemplate using makeup whilst in school. Their opinions matter to me the most, not Lavender's or Queen Beatrice's.

Especially Ron's.

Oh Diary, you should have seen the disgust on his face at my new look. I don't think I'll ever be able to Scourgify that image from my brain. I've never felt that much shame in my life.

There's no way I have a chance with him now.

I seriously messed my friendships up yesterday. And specifically, I hurt Ron. I had an excellent opportunity to show how interested I was in him by showing up to support him, and I blew it. If I had left Ballindalloch straight after Madam Malkin finished working her magic on me, then I would have made it back to Hogwarts in time to at least watch his flight and cheer him on. But I missed it because I was too absorbed in admiring my new face.

Hearing how well he flew from Ginny was devastating. I can't believe I didn't get to see it first hand.

I'm such an awful friend.

Making it all right again with Ron (and I guess Harry and Ginny, too) is at the top of today's to-do list. It will be hard, and I'm not sure there's an instant fix, but I'm willing to do whatever it takes.

I think I'm going to be brave and face it head-on at breakfast this morning once I've had a shower and a chance to change my clothes. Eleanor Roosevelt once said that you should do something every day that scares you. Speaking to my friends will be today's scary thing.

What I can say to Ron, Harry and Ginny

* I was kidnapped by aliens, given a makeover and then brainwashed, losing my ability to tell the time. (Do wizards believe in aliens? I should look that up)

* I plan on entering a magical beauty contest and spent the morning practising my look.

* I was brewing a beautification potion to try and get my grade back to an Outstanding and tested it on myself before submitting it.

* Sorry.

Ugh, I guess I better get ready to leave my hiding place, no matter how delightful the solitude is. I feel safe here, away from watching eyes and the ever-increasing group of people who are waiting for me to make my next wrong move. But according to the Tempus charm I performed, Tonks will be here for her shift shortly, and I need to brief her with my plan so that she doesn't react in a way that might mess it up.

Wish me luck!

Until I remember to write again x

It doesn't take long for Hermione to pack her small amount of belongings away. Although she wants nothing more than to stay buried under the wonderfully soft duvet and spend the rest of her day writing mindlessly in her diary or doing her homework, she pushes the comforter off her legs then swings around to the edge of the mattress.

With a soft groan, she pushes herself out of bed.

After locating her jeans and jumper from last night, she pulls them on then runs her fingers through her new look hairstyle, rearranging the waves around her face (although it doesn't need a lot of work, as it's still in the tidy style Madam Malkin charmed it into the day before).

"It's time to face the music, I guess," she says to herself with a sigh before hauling her too-heavy bag over her head, settling the strap on her shoulder before leaving the room.

Hermione steps into the corridor then turns around to watch the door as it begins to disappear.

"Wotcher, Hermione!"

Her face swivels to the left briefly, acknowledging Tonks with a small smile. The Auror leans against the tapestry of Barnaby the Barmy with a steaming travel mug of coffee in her hands. Hermione doesn't answer her straight away, as she's too fixated on making sure the door fades away. The last thing she wants is anyone else finding the room and using it for the same reasons. Even though she's only spent one night there, she's beginning to think of it as her hideaway, and she doesn't want the hordes of Hogwarts ruining it.

Satisfied her secret is well hidden, for now, Hermione pushes her waves back over her shoulder and ignores the churn of nerves in her stomach as she steps closer to Tonks.

"Good morning," she chirps, although it sounds way too false as her words bounce around the empty corridor. "How was your evening?"

Tonks yawns and stretches before pushing herself off the wall and falling into step with Hermione. "It was nice to get back early for once. I managed to catch up with a few friends at the Leaky. I haven't seen them in weeks now that I'm busy looking after a princess."

"Shhh!" Hermione glances around nervously, even though she's well aware nobody else is around them. "That's good that you were able to see them. I do feel guilty that you're stuck with me all the time. Doesn't the Order give you any time off?"

"When you become a member of the Order, it's pretty much your whole life. Of course, there'll be times when you're with your grandmother, and Kingsley will be responsible for you. Also, the Aurors take over the big Ministry events.

"I guess that's when I get my time off." Tonks shrugs before continuing, "I took a pledge to protect you and your grandmother, and I'm proud that I'm in your service. Although, I will be glad once the news gets out about you. Pretending to be a student when you're in your twenties sucks, and it was hard lying to my friends about what I've been up to."

"I guess we have more in common than we first thought," Hermione mumbles.

"Only I'm not the heir apparent to the throne."

The quip melts Hermione's defences slightly, and she returns Tonks' smirk with a more genuine smile. "If you do need a break from me, then please let me know. I'm sure I could handle Doge for the day, even if he is boring and old."

"You wouldn't get Doge. If I'm off, then Beatrice would send Kingsley. I know she doesn't act it, but you are the most important person to her. You should see the change in how she is since she's started spending time with you.

"But enough about me, what's the plan for the day? Please tell me we're going straight to breakfast?"

Hermione pauses on the landing at the top of the moving staircases, drumming her fingers against the nearest stone newel post. Although she was sure of her plan before, now she's facing putting it into action, her nerves are threatening to take over. Being courageous doesn't come naturally all the time, even if the Sorting Hat had no issues putting her in Gryffindor house.

It would be easy to step onto the moving staircases and let them take her down to the Great Hall instead of moving past them towards the Gryffindor Tower. She could eat breakfast with Tonks while watching Harry, Ron and Ginny mess around and have fun without her, and then she could retreat to the library without having to deal with any sort of conflict.

But Hermione knows from previous arguments with Ron that the longer you leave it, the worse the problems get, and she's worried that it's already past the point of no return this time. She's never seen him look as hurt as he did yesterday.

No, she has to be strong. "Like ripping the plaster off," Nana Granger used to say.

Letting out a hard puff of air, Hermione turns to Tonks. "The plan is to sneak back into the dormitory while everyone else is at breakfast, get a quick shower and a clean change of clothes. Then we eat. After that? Well, hopefully I can make things better with my friends, but we'll see."

"Sounds like a good plan," Tonks replies, ignoring the staircase as it swings around to meet them. "On to the Tower, then."

⁂

"Ah, Miss Granger," the Fat Lady calls to Hermione as the teenager and her bodyguard step up to the portrait hole. "I was wondering where you'd got to, since I didn't see you return to the common room last night. You do know that it's against the rules to stay out? You should know better, what with being a Prefect. I should report you to the Head."

Hermione ignores her and instead says, "Dilligrout."

"I'll let you off this time. But if it happens again, I'll go straight to McGonagall," the portrait states as she swings open.

The worst part about living in a magical castle is that items that shouldn't be sentient have opinions and beliefs that are annoying or inconvenient, like the mirror in the sixth-year bedroom, which often likes to fat shame anyone who steps in front of it, even Lavender. Although Hermione is sure the Fat Lady won't be telling tales on her anytime soon, the princess-to-be is still distracted as she climbs through the portrait hole and into the common room, Tonks hot on her trail. Hermione is about to argue back with the painting, desperate to give the Fat Lady a piece of her mind, but she's distracted by movement in the middle of the room.

Hermione's blood rushes out of her body, and a shiver travels down her spine as she takes in the sight in front of her. The entire common room is empty, save for the two bodies entwined on her favourite comfortable old sofa next to the fire; the one she, Harry and Ron have spent many evenings sprawled across, laughing or doing homework.

There's no way she'll ever sit there again. She'll have to find a new favourite spot.

Maybe once I've made some new friends.

Cormac is in a sitting position, his arms spread across the back of the settee. Straddling his lap is a girl, and even though Hermione can't see her face, due to the fact the girl's lips are attached to his neck, she recognises her cascading blonde waves.

Fortunately, his eyes are closed, and Lavender is otherwise engaged. Neither of them notice Hermione's entrance. A loud moan drifts across the common room, spurring the brunette to make a move before the snogging couple catches her. As she tiptoes past the entwined lovers to get to the girl's dormitories, Hermione risks a glance at them, and spots that Lavender has buried her hand somewhere it definitely shouldn't be, especially in a public place.

Hermione almost makes it to her destination without being spotted despite the clomp of Tonks' heavy boots on the old floorboards. As Hermione lays her hand on the door that leads to the staircases, the Auror catches her foot on a side table. A loud shriek disrupts the increasing groans coming from the sofa as Tonks sprawls face-first onto the faded red and gold carpet. Her travel mug rolls towards Hermione, coming to a stop at the brunette's feet.

"What the—" Cormac is the first to break the ensuing silence, pushing Lavender off his lap with a grunt before sorting himself out.

The blonde squeaks but recovers from the disturbance quickly, sliding off the sofa and straightening her clothes. A smirk unfolds over her face as she spots Hermione cowering in the corner of the room.

"Oh it's you," Lavender says as she wanders over, stepping over the prone form of Tonks in her mission to get to Hermione.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Tonks starts as she lifts her body from the floor and dusts herself off, but one heated look from Lavender silences her.

"Not you, you weirdo." Lavender's eyes burn into the back of Hermione's head as the brunette diverts her focus at a fascinating grain in the wooden door. "Why are you interrupting us?"

"It's a shared common room," Hermione says, slowly turning around to face her arch-nemesis. "A lot of students come and go. And behaviour like…." She trails off, waving her hands around as she tries her best to find the words that describe the disgusting scene she witnessed. Although she doesn't want Lavender and Cormac to know how flustered she is, Hermione is awful at hiding it. "Well, it's against the rules, whatever it is you're doing."

Lavender continues to creep towards Hermione like an Acromantula stalking its prey, making the princess-to-be shrink back against the door. The blonde squares up to Hermione, eyeing her up and down.

"You've changed your face. Those are your real eyebrows but they're different. You've had them plucked. And your hair, it's no longer triangle shaped. But there's something else that's not quite right."

Lavender rests her chin in her hand in an exaggerated thinking pose, pausing for a few moments to let the thick tension in the room settle over them. It's hot under the popular girl's gaze, and Hermione's hand fumbles blindly for the door handle so she can make a speedy retreat as soon as she gets the chance.

"Wait," Lavender cries out. "I've got it. It's your teeth! You did the charm to change them. Why now after all these years of looking like a squirrel? You must be desperate to win Weasley over if you're willing to change this much of your appearance. What did he say?!"

Hermione wills herself not to respond. She needs to stay quiet, take the abuse and focus instead on her escape route. The sooner it's over and done with, the sooner she can get in the shower and scrub the image of Cormac and Lavender doing whatever from her brain. Hermione needs to find her friends and make it up to them, and the longer she delays it, the more questions they'll have and the harder it'll be to apologise.

But her mouth betrays her, and the words slide off the tip of her tongue before she can stop them.

"This wasn't for Ron."

"You're saying that this is for a different bloke?" Lavender scoffs. "Like anyone else could be interested in you. Who is it?"

"Nobody."

The blonde rolls her eyes then picks up the edge of Hermione's jumper, holding it between two fingers with a disgusted look on her face. "Weren't you wearing this yesterday? Don't think I didn't see you sneaking out of the room early before breakfast. What happened? Did you sleep with your mystery boyfriend last night?"

"It's not like that at all." Hermione's had enough. She knows she shouldn't argue back with Lavender, that it'll only make the bullying worse. But she's fighting with everyone else in her life; why not add Lav to the list, too. "I have other obligations. It's not all about boys for me."

"Well, you didn't change your hair for Madam Pince! I can't believe you came in here and judged Cormac and me for making out when all this time you've been sleeping around the castle. I thought you were still a virgin. I mean, who would want to date you?" Glee flashes in Lavender's eyes, and an evil grin appears on her face. "Who is it? Which house is he in? If you don't tell me, then I'll work it out for myself anyway. Is he a Slytherin, and that's why you're keeping it quiet?

"Oh my God, is it Draco Malfoy?"

The slamming of the portrait hole disrupts the girl's argument, interrupting Hermione as she opens her mouth to begin her defence. The thought of sleeping with Draco, the only person she hates more than Lavender and Cormac, forces bile to bubble in her stomach.

Both girls turn their heads in the direction of the noise. Hermione's nausea intensifies when she spots Ron standing in the entrance to the common room, his cheeks and ears flushing bright red. To her dismay, his hands are scrunched into fists by his sides, his knuckles turning white and his arms shaking with the effort he's putting in to constrain himself.

How long has he been standing there? How much did he hear?

"What's this about Hermione and Draco? Is it true?" he asks, pain flashing across his face as his voice wavers.

Hermione's heart stops for a moment, and when it eventually remembers to beat again, it feels like a hundred Cornish Pixies have rampaged all over it. She pushes past Lavender and takes a step towards Ron, desperate to console him. "No, of course it's not true. Nothing has happened between me and Draco."

"Yet," Lavender adds with a snigger.

"No? Then why are you still in the clothes you were wearing yesterday?"

Dammit! Since when did he get this observant? He's never paid this much attention to Hermione, and now she has stuff she needs to hide, he's suddenly become the expert.

She wraps her arms around herself to hide the evidence. "I stayed in the Room of Requirement last night because I didn't want to face you and fight with you again. Ask Tonks, she knew where I was."

The corner of Ron's mouth turns up in a sneer.

"Ask Tonks, she knows," he imitates Hermione cruelly. "Of course she bloody does. I'm surprised she wasn't bunking up with you. And to think I came up here to try and find you because you weren't at breakfast yet again. I was worried you were studying and had forgotten to eat. How much of a fucking idiot am I? You were off with Tonks this entire time. The only thing you've forgotten about is the fact that you have real friends."

"You guys aren't even talking to me!" Hermione shrieks in reply, but it's too late. Ron turns on his heel and exits the way he came, slamming the portrait hole so hard behind him, the Fat Lady cries out in shock.

Rage settles over Hermione's body, coursing through her veins and fuelling her heart with venom as she stares at the now-closed portrait hole. She has had enough of being misunderstood, especially by one of her closest friends.

Hands shaking, she retraces her steps back to the door to the dormitories, seeking out Tonk's travel mug from earlier. The Auror has barely touched the coffee she is adamant she relies on, and the liquid sloshes around the receptacle as Hermione carries it over to the low table in front of her favourite sofa. It's as if she's on auto-pilot—although she's aware of her heart pounding an irregular rhythm against her, a red mist has covered her vision.

Hermione unscrews the lid off the mug and, before she can even contemplate what she's about to do, pours the steaming hot liquid inside Lavender's luxurious leather handbag. It's ridiculous she carries it around everywhere instead of the standard school rucksack, and Hermione is done with the blonde's flagrant dismissal of school rules and her lack of understanding of other people's feelings.

"Leave me alone, Lavender." The words spit out of Hermione's lips, the tone low and barely audible above the popular girl's shrieks.

"I can't believe you did that! I'm going straight to McGonagall."

With nothing else to say, Hermione shrugs and turns on her heels, walking past a shocked Tonks and Cormac before yanking the door open and heading up the stairs as if she doesn't have a care in the world. Hermione is sure that when the adrenaline ceases and she realises what she's done, she'll be aghast, but for now, the only regret she has is that Ron didn't stick around long enough to see what she did.

He would be so proud of her.