Disclaimer: Not mine, except the ones that are
One night, Harry walked in on Hermione studying at 3:00 in the morning. She would slowly turn the pages, and it didn't seem that she was actually doing the work.
"What on Earth are you doing, up Hermione?" asked Harry, smiling and shaking his head.
"I should ask the same of you," Hermione responded.
"Well-I'm actually up, if you must know, because I'm hungry. Much as you hate it, house-elves make scrumdiddlyumptious food all day long. Ron was coming to get some too, but he fell back asleep, I guess and-anyway, what are you doing up?"
Trying desperately to avoid the subject, she answered, "Harry, that's wrong! The poor house-elves-they work so hard, and they don't get any pay or anything! Why are you so horrible to them?"
"I'm not horrible, I'm hungry. And you still haven't answered my question."
"Fine," Hermione sighed, "If you must know, I'm uh, doing homework!"
"You mean the homework that you finished at 8:00? That homework?"
"Of course not, silly, I uh just remembered about the essay due in Potions that is um due in a week and I uh have to finish." She trailed off, knowing how stupid she sounded.
"Oh, I see, you're doing Potions homework in a book called-" Harry grabbed the book "-1000 Most Famous Murdered Wizards?"
"I was trying to see if your parents were in there?" Hermione asked, searching desperately for a good reason. Harry glowered.
"You have to tell me what's really going on. I'll just sit here, and wait. You don't want me to get up this morning without sleep OR food, do you?"
Hermione sighed. "Fine," she said. "I'll tell you what's going on. But you can't breathe a word of it to anyone, even Ron. And no interruptions, got it?"
"Err," said Harry, unsure if he was allowed to speak right then or not.
"Good. Here's what happened. When I was 8-long before I found out I was a witch-I saw a wizard being murdered. A YOUNG wizard, Harry! He couldn't have been more than 16 or 17!! He was young, and he was dead, and- " Hermione couldn't finish for her sobbing.
Harry stared at her. "You saw someone being murdered when you were EIGHT?" Unsure of what to do, Harry put a comforting arm awkwardly on Hermione's shoulder.
"And you've been trying to figure out who he was?"
"Yes," said Hermione, relieved that she actually told someone, finally.
"Listen," said Harry. "I'll help. I know a lot of people in the wizarding world, maybe they can-"
"Remember," said Hermione fiercely, "You promised you wouldn't tell anyone!"
"Oh," said Harry. "Right. But maybe I can still do something."
"Suit yourself," Hermione answered, shrugging. "Just don't tell anyone. Ever."
"And you have to go to bed. It's 3:30 in the morning! You've got to be exhausted!" He practically dragged Hermione out of her seat, and she slowly walked towards her dormitory. Harry tried to think of what he could do.
One night, Harry walked in on Hermione studying at 3:00 in the morning. She would slowly turn the pages, and it didn't seem that she was actually doing the work.
"What on Earth are you doing, up Hermione?" asked Harry, smiling and shaking his head.
"I should ask the same of you," Hermione responded.
"Well-I'm actually up, if you must know, because I'm hungry. Much as you hate it, house-elves make scrumdiddlyumptious food all day long. Ron was coming to get some too, but he fell back asleep, I guess and-anyway, what are you doing up?"
Trying desperately to avoid the subject, she answered, "Harry, that's wrong! The poor house-elves-they work so hard, and they don't get any pay or anything! Why are you so horrible to them?"
"I'm not horrible, I'm hungry. And you still haven't answered my question."
"Fine," Hermione sighed, "If you must know, I'm uh, doing homework!"
"You mean the homework that you finished at 8:00? That homework?"
"Of course not, silly, I uh just remembered about the essay due in Potions that is um due in a week and I uh have to finish." She trailed off, knowing how stupid she sounded.
"Oh, I see, you're doing Potions homework in a book called-" Harry grabbed the book "-1000 Most Famous Murdered Wizards?"
"I was trying to see if your parents were in there?" Hermione asked, searching desperately for a good reason. Harry glowered.
"You have to tell me what's really going on. I'll just sit here, and wait. You don't want me to get up this morning without sleep OR food, do you?"
Hermione sighed. "Fine," she said. "I'll tell you what's going on. But you can't breathe a word of it to anyone, even Ron. And no interruptions, got it?"
"Err," said Harry, unsure if he was allowed to speak right then or not.
"Good. Here's what happened. When I was 8-long before I found out I was a witch-I saw a wizard being murdered. A YOUNG wizard, Harry! He couldn't have been more than 16 or 17!! He was young, and he was dead, and- " Hermione couldn't finish for her sobbing.
Harry stared at her. "You saw someone being murdered when you were EIGHT?" Unsure of what to do, Harry put a comforting arm awkwardly on Hermione's shoulder.
"And you've been trying to figure out who he was?"
"Yes," said Hermione, relieved that she actually told someone, finally.
"Listen," said Harry. "I'll help. I know a lot of people in the wizarding world, maybe they can-"
"Remember," said Hermione fiercely, "You promised you wouldn't tell anyone!"
"Oh," said Harry. "Right. But maybe I can still do something."
"Suit yourself," Hermione answered, shrugging. "Just don't tell anyone. Ever."
"And you have to go to bed. It's 3:30 in the morning! You've got to be exhausted!" He practically dragged Hermione out of her seat, and she slowly walked towards her dormitory. Harry tried to think of what he could do.