DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

AUTHOR NOTE: Many thanks to the wonderfully talented, Niamh for betaing this story. All of her fics should be on your reading list if you are enjoying, At Any Moment.

Hermione VI

After lunch...

That bloody bastard enjoyed every minute as he flayed me with his tongue this morning. Even Malfoy looked like all his Christmases had come at once. First there were the usual snide comments as I tried to help Neville, and then just as the gong sounded and I was packing up my kit, he started to lay into me about slack attitudes and my inability to brew a 'proper' potion during my 'detention' yesterday evening. The fact that I was bloody interrupted and that he told me to leave with Professor McGonagall obviously slipped his mind.

Bastard!

And now I have a real detention this evening, all because of being caught out of bounds in the bloody Library last night! Oh, he didn't say as much, but I saw him and my Head of House talking this morning at breakfast, and it doesn't take Einstein to work out just what the topic of conversation was. I didn't even get a chance to finish my Dreamless Sleep potion so it was another restless night for me again...and he knows it too. He just couldn't resist the patented eyebrow flex as Ron tried to put his arm around me. The fact that any attempt by Ron to make me feel comfortable usually involves him making the suggestion that I lie back with my legs in the air is beside the point. But Snape's curious, I know he is...and I know he's going to ask me about it. After all, thumping and glaring at one of your best friends is bound to draw some kind of comment.

Then there's the fact that Harry just stood there trying to bend the wooden desk back upon itself and not uttering a single word! I felt like turning around and thumping him for his failure to even growl just a little bit, or more to the point look at Professor Snape. Harry kept his eyes firmly planted on the bit of desk he was trying to bend and so he completely missed Ron's piss weak attempt to 'comfort' me thinking he'd finally getting his leg over.

I'm tired, I'm angry and I'm bloody upset...and no one gives a damn about me in the slightest. Well each of them does in their own particular way, but I'd need Veritaserum to get any of them to admit it, though given that Professor Snape brews the stuff...and locks it away, I've no idea how I might spike anything he might care to drink. I certainly don't think it's going to be a tea and chat sort of detention this evening.

Both Harry and Ron should be up in Gryffindor Tower and I suppose I should try and talk to them. We've each been avoiding the other lately, but that has to stop and I'm the one who is going to have to make the first move. I hate having to make the first move, particularly as I don't know how to start, nor what to say, or even whether I should just rant at the pair of them and get it over and done with.

They never write books about this sort of thing, probably because it's the sort of thing everyone tries to avoid until there's a fight of some description.

I hate fighting and conflict, but hiding in a hole seems pretty stupid given all the tension that seems to be mounting in the castle. I can't hide from that, so I shouldn't hide from anything else either.

Late afternoon...

Well, I managed to talk with Harry and Ron, though it seemed like I did most of the talking. I did have to tell Ron in no uncertain terms that he had about as much chance of bedding me as he did of getting Professor Trelawney to make a 'real' lesson plan, but I tend to think I'll be a very old woman before it finally sinks in...if I'm lucky. Harry, though...well, it was like pulling teeth. He wouldn't talk, other than the odd occasional grunt, and even then he seemed distant.

So much for the supposed 'hero' of the Wizarding world. He's scared and if he won't confide in his friends, then how on earth is he supposed to face off against Voldemort? He lost his parents before he had any real memory of them, but I lost mine when we had a wealth of memories. I want to fight this evil, see it lose its power, but I can't do it without my friends; even Ron, and I told them both as much. It's almost as though Harry has given up without even trying and that's when evil wins. I told him that as well, but still no response. I can't work out if that means that he was ignoring me or he really is as lost as his outward appearance suggests. Ron tried to butt in and tell me I was being too harsh, but I don't think I was...not really. We all need to fight if we're to even stand a chance of winning, and if we don't fight then we may as well cede the field to depravity.

I'm not willing to do that...and I told them that as well just as I stood and walked out of the Common Room.

Nearly Headless Nick caught up to me in the corridor as I headed down back to my room here in the West Tower. It's almost as though he was acting as my own personal guard, even though he did pepper me with questions about London and sightseeing in general. It was all very odd actually. The last time Sir Nicholas saw London was from a dingy window high in The Tower, but I didn't like to pry too much and he seemed reluctant to re-visit his partial beheading. He did say that he would see me safely to dinner and my detention, though, so I wonder if Professor McGonagall asked him to keep an eye on me...to keep me from wandering out of bounds?

It'd be just my luck to have gained my own personal security guard without asking for it in the first place.

After dinner...

Oh, my detention is going to be a real treat, given the fact that Professor Snape loudly scraped his chair back, shot the most appalling horrified look at Professor McGonagall, and stormed out of the Great Hall.

Just bloody wonderful!

They were sitting next to each other again, talking quietly to each other, and Professor McGonagall kept looking at me all through dinner. Every time I looked up from my seat she'd make a great show of darting her eyes along the Gryffindor table, but I know she was watching me, though I've no idea why. Even Professor Snape looked at me quickly once or twice before he turned back to the poor defenceless piece of meat on his plate. If I didn't know better I'd swear he imagined it as Professor McGonagall's head and he was slicing it in jagged pieces to save himself the trouble of doing it in reality.

The only thing I can worry about is that rather than Professor McGonagall's head on a platter, he was actually seeing mine. It doesn't bear thinking about, but I'd best go or I might just find out sooner than I expected.

I wonder who else I can manage to irritate before midnight?

Constructive criticism, comments and reviews are most welcome!