Disclaimer: In Chapter One

            Hermione slightly opens her eyes. Her lashes flutter and I can see a slight glimpse of her brilliant brown eyes. She jumps when she realizes that someone is watching. Someone she is very familiar with.

            "You scared me!" she says, in mock anger.

            "Sorry. You were just conked out, and I thought I could see tears on your face. I wanted to ask you why you were crying." He says.

            Her face colors. "I wasn't crying. I don't cry."

            "Hermione," his face softens, and he reaches across to put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Nobody's perfect. You have to cry, it's a part of life. Why were you crying?"

            "I wasn't crying!" she insists, but she refuses to meet his eyes.

            "Hermione, it's okay if you don't want to talk about it. You act so strong, and you truly are. But even strong people cry. I just want you to know that it's okay to cry." He stands and begins to walk away across the deserted common room.

            "Ron?" Hermione calls after him. He turns. "Thanks." He smiles at her and goes out the portrait hole.

***

            "Hermione? Owl arrived for you." Harry brings the owl over to Hermione.

            "Really? I wonder why it came to you." Hermione says. She stands and wipes her inky hands on an old rag.

            "Probably a mix of handwriting and pronunciation," Harry grins, handing over the rolled up piece of parchment.

            Hermione turns it to find the label. She frowns slightly when she sees the small, cramped handwriting.

            "Something wrong, Hermione?" Harry asks.

            "No, no, nothing." She says softly, crumpling into her chair. She unties the scarlet ribbon tied around the parchment scroll and unrolls it.

Dear Hermione,

            I am wishing to see another picture of you. A recent one, taken the day you receive this. Karkaroff is gone and our new headmaster is much worse, and it is dark and gloomy here. Ask your friends Parvati and Lavender to take the picture. I trust you are not spending time with the boys Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley? Of course, I'm sure the castle is not the same without me to comfort you. Send it back without delaying. I miss you.

            Much love,

                        Viktor Krum 

            Hermione hates the way he orders her around. I can see it in her face, but most vividly in her eyes. She mouths the words "Parvati" and "Lavender". They are not her friends. At least, not to the degree that Ron and Harry are. It is obvious that he is jealous of Harry and Ron. He assumes he has total control over her. But he does not.

            "Smile, Hermione!" Hermione looks up. She sees Fred Weasley aiming a wizarding camera at her. She grins as he snaps a picture, and it comes out the bottom of the camera. Fred sweeps down and picks it up. With a flourish, he puts it in his robe pocket.

            "Fred… can I have it?" Hermione asks hesitantly.

            "You really want it?" He teases.

            "Ye-no-I don't know." She says, confused as to what her real feelings are.

            "Take it." He says, grasping her helplessness. He takes pity on the confused girl and hands her the picture.

            It could be a professional portrait. I glimmer on her ear, I'm the only earring that shows. Her hair softly tumbles over her shoulders, cascading. Her eyes sparkle in amusement.

            "It looks nice," she says softly.

            "Yeah." Fred agrees nervously.

            "Thanks, Fred."

            Hermione goes up to her dormitory and sits on her bed. She pulls the curtain around and pulls a photograph out of a small box hidden in the drawer of her bedside table. She compares the pictures. In the one Fred has taken, she appears relaxed and happy. In the other photo, she has a strained smile. She looks tired in the second picture. She pulls out a quill pen and a parchment scroll. She writes quickly. She rolls up the photograph carefully in the scroll. After a moment's thought, she unrolls the scroll and takes the picture out. She throws the scroll away and pulls out a new one. Scratching with the quill, she composes a letter.

Viktor- Why do you want it?

                        -Hermione

            She rolls up the scroll, without the photograph this time, and ties it with a ribbon.

            "Harry? Can I borrow Hedwig?"

To people who want to know why Hermione was crying- I'll reveal that in the next Chapter or so.

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