"Hermione, what's gotten into you?"

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Characters, settings, ect. all belong to J.K. Rowling.

Harry's time was cut short and he couldn't go to Hagrid's hut, much to his disappointment. He hadn't seen him much around since he had been drinking in The Three Broomsticks. He and Ron scuttled in a crowd of 5th years out of the Great Hall on their way to the Gryffindor common room.

"Let's hope Hermione back from the hospital wing." Ron said as their went through the portrait hole. "If she's not back by now…" They arrived in the cozy common room. Dean Thomas and Neville were playing wizard chess. Ginny was in a chair watching them and petting a particularly smug Crookshanks. Seamus was at the table too, still looking at the Historball in awe, experimenting with it using his wand, but not quite getting the words right. Hermione was nowhere in sight.

"You see Hermione any where?" Ron asked Ginny.

"No, I haven't." Ginny stroked Crookshanks' ears, which made him purr rather affectionately. "But I'll go upstairs to check the girls' dorm to see if she there, if you'd like. C'mon, Crookshanks." She scooped up the large cat, and left to the stairs.

"You didn't happen to do anything to rack Hermione's brain today, did you?" Ron joked.

"Ron—" Harry wondered if it was necessary to tell him about what happened that morning with his turmoil. "You see, this morning I erm—kind of upset her."

"You really did?" Ron's eyes bulged. "What'd you do to her? Insult her reading strategies or something?"

Harry realized Ron had not taken the matter seriously in the first place, so he decided not to explain. His best friend had already tread off to watch the chess match, leaving him along by the roaring fire to sort his thoughts. That is, if he had any. He was exhausted, his muscles ached from just clambering so many flights of moving stairs, but he remembered he had to recopy his Potions notes. He groaned loudly, wondering if the day could possibly get any worse.

"Blimey, Hermione! Where've you been the whole half of the day?" Ron exclaimed an hour later as everyone turned to see a weary looking Hermione clambering through the portrait hole. "We've been looking every corner for you! Harry checked the library before dinner, for Merlin's sake. And then Ginny said you weren't in the dorms…you really were in the hospital wing that whole time?"

Hermione, who looked as if she had no strength to argue back to Ron, plopped herself into a fireside chair, her cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson. Harry, who was hardly halfway done with his mending spell annotations, tried very hard not to look up at her, though he had a feeling she was looking at him. He continued to scribble furiously.

"Oh!" Harry heard Hermione clamp her hands over her mouth and exclaim faintly. "Great…I left my books at the hospital wing, I'll have to go all the way to the other side…" Then —as if things could not possibly get any more perturbing— she suddenly burst into tears. It was the first time Harry ever remembered hearing Hermione cry so dishearteningly despite the past. She had buried her face in her hands and was sobbing quite loudly.

"There, there, Hermione." Ginny patted her on the back. Harry felt a pang of guilt in his chest as she did this –he knew he was the one who was supposed to be comforting her. "I'll go get your books, you shouldn't be getting up." Then Ginny turned to face Harry sternly. He thought she was going to scold him, but instead she said, "Could you keep an eye on things while I make a quick trip to the hospital wing? It will only be a while." Then she put Crookshanks down on the floor gently and left with a toss of her shiny red hair.

Hermione didn't seem to be paying much attention at all…she was whimpering at the moment. Without much of a choice now, Harry got up, cautiously, and standing by her side unnoticed, wondered whether it would be appropriate to pat her on the back soothingly. He never really did that before…it was usually the other way around…Hermione taking care to bring down his worries.

"I-it's okay—" He heard himself saying in a nervous voice. "Ginny said she'd go get your books."

Hermione stopped crying, and lifted her head to gaze at him after he spoke to her. Harry was uncomfortable; her face was now red and streaked with tears. She quickly wiped her face. "Oh, Harry, I-I'm sorry." She burst into tears again, mumbling the words "Sorry…I'm sorry" over and over again. Harry felt his cheeks burn and didn't know what to say to make her stop crying.

"Finally, you're here." He said in a nerve-racking mood. Ginny came up to them, and put Hermione's heavy bag next to her. "Harry." She said in a low, serious, voice. "There's something I need to say to you. It's about Hermione."

"S-shouldn't we talk about it somewhere else then?" Harry asked tensely.

"No, it's fine here. I'll explain." She added to answer his muddled eyes. She glanced at Ron and the other boys carefully but then turned her eyes directly towards him and spoke slowly. "Madam Pomfrey, erm, she told me everything. Something's wrong."

She continued. "It seems Hermione by mistake conjured a spell on herself, but it somehow backfired, and she rushed to the hospital wing to get help. It was a big mess, but they fixed it up. Then Hermione's eyes started appearing oddly, didn't they? The second time she went back, Madam Pomfrey sent her back a good deal before dinner. Only Hermione didn't show up for the meal at all." Ginny's words gave Harry chills.

"You're probably thinking the same thing. Where was Hermione all that time?" Ginny bit her lip anxiously. "Madam Pomfrey wouldn't know, of course, but she told me she had given Hermione a dose of something before sending her out. I think it was supposed to prevent her eyes from reacting again. The medication kind of have some strong side-affects along with it, but she didn't think it would affect Hermione so strongly…."

It was late. Hours had passed by since Ginny and the others had gone up to bed, leaving Harry and Hermione still downstairs together. Harry gazed down at her, who had fallen asleep a while ago after crying. He was sitting in large armchair with her next to him, her head leaning against him. He didn't care. Instead, he thought back at what Ginny had told him before.

"She's been pretty much unconscious for several hours." Ginny had said. "Lost her senses. She probably got lost coming up here to the Gryffindor common room. Anyway, Madam Pomfrey says to be careful, that the dose might make her pretty emotional for a while, but that she doesn't really realize some of the things she's saying. In other words…"

"I know."

"She was in Moaning Myrtle's stall."

"What?" He sputtered.

"Moaning Myrtle's stall. I saw her on my way to the hospital wing. She usually never comes out when it's late. She asked me if I was the Gryffindor girl who was nearly killed in my 1st year. Then she told me that Hermione had been crying in her stall a good deal of the afternoon. She just wouldn't tell me why." Ginny said the last part in annoyance. "That ghost of a girl…I never liked her…"

With that she scooped up Crookshanks, patted Hermione a few more times, and said goodnight, that she couldn't even feel her legs.

The fire that roared in the common room looked fresh, like it would last through the night, which was extending forever. He glanced Hermione's wrist. Her watch said it was two in the morning.

He sighed, and groaned from the pain in his back as he shifted his body in the seat to set Hermione down comfortably, tossing a red blanket over her. She slept soundly; her eyes looked relaxed, no longer red from tears.

What I am going to do about you, Hermione? He thought, punching his fist on the table. He couldn't fall asleep, and the other girls would scream at him if he were to carry her up to the girls' dorms. Should he just stay by her side tonight, and make sure nothing happened? It was a good time to also finish his homework as well as Hermione's. She needed to have her notes finished, or else it meant more point deductions. He sighed for the fourth straight time, got up, draped his black robe over his shoulders.

He went to retrieve for a quill and some fresh parchment when he eyed the Historball that had been left on the table after the boys finished playing chess. Although he did not know why he was bothering, he felt it was his responsibility why he hurt Hermione by yelling at her.

He drew the Historball, and rested it in Hermione's sleeping palm while pointing his own wand at one of the golden joints. "Forgify!" He whispered forcefully.

Again, something started to swirl in the glass ball, and the words HERMIONE GRANGER appeared at the base. Harry took a deep breath and hissed, "Where was I after Herbology?"

It was as if a pair of invisible hands had reached into the ball and started to assemble a picture. Harry stared into the ball. It was Hermione all right; she had just come out of Greenhouse number 4 along with the other Gryffindors, and was reminding some girl what the homework was.

Harry felt a sharp pang in his chest as he watched over the scene where he and Hermione were going up the wide stairs and he was telling her to leave him alone. Was it right to go on? Somehow his mind never answered him.

What happened next? Harry watched as he himself had trudged off grudgingly out of the scene leaving Hermione standing there. Without breaking in tears like he predicted, Hermione had flown off down the stairs and away to some hall that he remembered as the one they once took years ago when they had gone to Sir Nearly Headless Nick's death-day party. It was the one leading to the girls' bathroom, the one that held the surreptitious opening to the hidden chamber in their 2nd year.

Hermione had slipped into the girls' room, and it was like he remembered it. He knew where she was turning next, to Moaning Myrtle's stall. He could not hear any words, but she had bustled through the hall, intruding in on the baffled ghost. He was just about to witness her next act when the ball suddenly went blank with a green light. Startled, Harry had not noticed Hermione draw her hand away in her sleep.

Harry attempted to try again, but decided not to. Maybe it wasn't his place to watch what had happened. He put the Historball back on the table and quickly finished Snape's notes within the next hour, trying his best to recall the previous Potions' lesson.

"Harry…" He heard Hermione groan. "I'm…sorry…about today…"

What? Was the tonic that Madam Pomfrey had given her still in affect? But this time Hermione was only talking in her sleep. It was a dream.

Harry leaned over Hermione carefully to get his wand and winced when she clutched his arm tightly. "Hermione…" He started, but stopped himself. It was only a dream. But was he in it? He watched her every move anxiously.

"I was wrong…" Hermione muttered, and her lips formed a tight smile. "Don't do this to me…don't tell Dumbledore!" Tell Dumbledore what? Her eyelashes fluttered. "I won't bring it up again…it was all my f-fault…all my fault Harry…Harry you know how much you mean to me…Ron too…" She tightened her grip on him. "Harry!" She screamed. "No! No! Don't—"

He didn't have much choice. He shook her gently. "Hermione, wake up! It's just a dream, I'm right here, I'm right—"

Hermione's eyes flew open. Was she still under influence from Madam Pomfrey's tonic? Harry had no way of knowing. Ginny hadn't told him when Hermione would regain her senses again.

"You're okay, right?" Harry asked. Hermione was still holding onto his arm, her brown eyes staring at him blankly. She's got to be normal. Harry thought. Yet suddenly the most outlandish thing happened.

A/N: If you have gotten this far...why not review and tell me what you think? Reviewing will help me get to know my readers, as well as read others' writings as well. I welcome comments and accept constructive criticism...please...if possible...no profanity of any kind, as it would be disturbing or offending. Thank you.