Disclaimer: Yup, I still don't own Harry Potter, any of the characters that interact with him in the Harry Potter books, the title Harry Potter, or any of the ideas that are expressed within any of the Harry Potter books.

Authors note: Well…it's been a while lads, lets see if I can't still pull this off and not have you hate Blake…at least not hate him any more than you hated him before (I know there are some Malfoy fans out there and some people who just don't like original characters)

November Rose

A thick blanket of snow had fallen on the grounds of the school. It had left everything white, and the monotone look to the scenery made everything look dead. Even the whomping willow appeared to have less life in it than usual. The students had for the most part, stopped going outside as much. Most of them had to catch up on their studies so that they could spend their Christmas holidays back at home without having to worry about school.

Harry stared through the window of the boy's dormitory as freezing rain tapped against it before adding to the ice that now coated the window. It had been raining like this on and off for a week. The snow was no longer fit to make anything out of, and he could have given up trying to admire the scenery through the window about an hour into the first little rain. Now he just found some bizarre pleasure knowing that everything outside looked as dead as he was feeling inside.

He hadn't spoken with Hermione since the dance, and she hadn't spoken to him. Every time he'd walk into a room, she'd find something that she needed to go off to research, or some piece of homework that she hadn't yet to do. It had been most of a month since the Halloween dance, and still every time he walked into a room, Hermione found some excuse to walk right out of it.

Harry looked over to the rest of the dormitory to see Ron sitting on his bed, looking over some chocolate frog cards. Ron was the one that he really felt sorry for. He was the guy who was caught in the middle of all of this. He was the guy who didn't want to leave Harry with no one, and yet still had the biggest crush on Hermione that anyone had even thought of. Ron was the boy who knew that no matter how much he felt for Hermione, she'd never return the feelings.

Harry sighed as he looked back out of the frozen window to gaze upon the twisted and broken scenery that it allowed him to see. He had started having trouble thinking that the world didn't actually look like that. It had started when Sirius had died. Everything seemed to be black or white, and everything seemed to be at some level of dead. Nothing was alive, it was all just decaying and slowly reaching the point where it would just be soil…where it would just be worm food.

How many people had been caught in the middle of this now? How many people had died as a result of him not being able to defend them? He had started Dumbledor's army so that he'd be able to help people to defend themselves. Really, he didn't know anything about that. He couldn't even defend himself. It was all a lie to try and hide the scared little boy who was too frightened to save the people who mattered to him. It was all an act that he put on so that people wouldn't panic, because lord knows that everyone would panic the moment that they saw the boy who lived loosing his cool.

Ron had suggested a few times that they go down to see Hagrid for some tea. Harry hadn't actually been interested in tea…or Hagrid. That was something that they had done with Hermione. It seemed to be such a hallow action now that Hermione wasn't part of their little adventuring group anymore. And that's what they were, just some kids trying to find some adventure in a school filled with magic. It just wasn't good enough for them that they learned on a daily basis how to blow up canning jars, or change water pitchers into field mice. No, no, they needed more adventure in their lives. They needed to fight evil, and be famous.

Look where that had gotten them…or rather where it had gotten the people around them. Sirius was dead, and Hermione had almost died that same night. Harry had almost died…well, who could keep track of something like that? Ron, well Ron was usually more careful, but their first year he had almost gotten killed because they couldn't leave well enough alone and decided to save to world by stealing the philosophers stone before Voldemort could get his hands on it. Of course he never would have even had a chance at getting it if they hadn't decided to be heroes, but that could hardly be held against them, right?

No, no one would ever blame them for anything. They were the courageous group of heroes who would save everyone at the end of the day. They were the people that you could trust with anything. Nothing could ever tear them apart. Nothing at all. Harry frowned as he thought about that, and then leaned back against the window. The cold of the ice on the other side bit into his back and made tears form in his eyes, but it was nothing that he hadn't felt before.

"Why are you still beating yourself up, Harry?" Ron spoke softly as he flipped one of the cards over and looked over the back of it.

Harry stared blankly at Ron for a long moment as if he was carefully working over his answer before even daring to put words to the thoughts, "I don't know what you mean. I'm not beating myself up."

The Weasley boy looked up slowly and stared at the window for a few moments, "Harry. You've stopped eating the foods that you used to love…when you eat that is. You've dropped studying all together for fear that you'll run into Hermione, you've stopped spending time in the common room. You don't go out to visit Hagrid anymore. You don't talk to me in class anymore. You just nod when Snape attacks you in potions…which I have to note has begun to happen a lot less since you've closed yourself off…" Ron sighed, "Harry, you haven't been this bad since-"

"Don't say it Ron." Harry interrupted. His eyes had a fire to them, but at the same time, they were colder than the window. There wasn't the same Harry in those eyes anymore, it was just more broken scenery, "Don't."

"Harry…I'm worried about you." Ron sighed softly as he got up off of the bed, "I'm sure that…I'm sure Hermione is worried about you too."

"Why are we talking Ron? Why don't we talk about Quidditch instead?" Harry looked back out the window. That fire…that emotion that had just been there was gone. That was possibly the most frustrating thing to Ron. Harry had a problem and he wasn't going to deal with it. He was just going to bottle it up. No one knew drama like Harry did, it was true, but no one cut themselves off from the pleasures that life could give like Harry did. Harry was his own worst enemy for all of the wrong reasons.

Ron shook slightly out of anger and frustration, "I don't want to talk about Quidditch damn it! I want to talk about you! You aren't going to be able to get over this if you can't open up about it! You're just going to sit there by that window and waste your life away! You are too caught up in what went on at that stupid dance that you don't realize what you are doing to yourself and what you are doing to your friends!"

"Why don't you just leave then, Ron? I'm sure you've got better things to do, and better places to be than here." Harry said softly. There was no emotion in his voice. He didn't turn to look at Ron, he just stared out the window and spoke the words.

Ron stared at the boy. Harry had become so lost inside of himself that it was hard to recognize him. He was really just an empty shell now. He wasn't the boy who lived, so much as the boy who had taken a bit longer to die. He knew that from Harry's perspective things were probably a little bit grim, but that was what he should be working to fix, not what should dominate his life and leave him with nothing but pain.

"Harry…I want to help you get out of this…it's destroying you." Ron stared at Harry, tears ready to roll down his cheeks.

Harry continued to stare out the window, "I'm not worth saving, Ron…and I'm not worth dying for…why don't you just leave me alone?"

Ron winced, forcing the tears to roll down his cheeks as he turned and started to walk to the door of the boy's dormitory. He made it to the door and gave one final look back to his friend. He was lost now. There was nothing that could be said or done to save him. If Harry was going to come out of this he was going to have to do it by himself and he had made it perfectly clear to everyone. He didn't want to be saved, and in his eyes everything would have been better if it had been him who had died rather than Sirius...or even Cedric.

"Goodbye Harry…I'll see you around sometime…" Ron spoke softly before he closed the door behind him, leaving Harry in the darkness that mimicked what he was feeling so well.

☼

Hermione stared down at the text of the large book that she had been skimming through. She hadn't actually been able to retain any of it. Reading had been difficult since she had received her answer from Harry, but then again, spending any amount of time in one place was hard for her since she had received her answer from Harry. It was difficult to accept that he didn't love her as much as she had thought he would. It was more difficult to accept that everyone now knew exactly how much that was true.

"So…why is it that you always spend so much time studying?" The familiar voice of the crimson haired by came from over her shoulder, "You're probably the smartest student in the school and you can't tear yourself away from these books."

Hermione just shook her head. She wasn't really sure what to think about Blake. On one hand he was a rebel who seemed to be just out to cause damage and make himself look good, but on the other he seemed to be a genuinely nice guy. He was like the Harry that she had expected to run into at the dance. He was the kind of person who would give you an honest answer even if it wasn't what you wanted to hear and then apologize and try to cover up for it when he found out it wasn't the answer you were looking for. He was brilliant and simple all at the same time.

She tried not to look at him as she answered, "It's hard to stay smart. People are still finding new things about magic, and you always need to keep up with the new discoveries or else you will fall behind. I have to work twice as hard cine my parents aren't really into magic…"

Blake chuckled softly as he pulled up a chair beside her, "So what exactly is it that you are studying right now?"

Hermione stopped and took a deep breath, "Werewolves."

Blake smiled and with his finger closed the book on Hermione, "You were reading about shape shifting spells actually, and while the word werewolf did appear in that particular passage, it was as a comparison rather than a topic of discussion." He stared at her as she pouted, not only because she had been wrong, but because he had closed the book.

She stopped and then looked over to him, "How would you know that, anyway?"

Blake shrugged and frowned softly, "I sort of come from the opposite kind of family that you do. My mom is a bit too much into magic for my taste, and we've got books like this one at home. I read it once upon a time."

Hermione stared blankly at the back of the book and then slowly turned her attention to Blake. He was sitting there with a thoughtful look on his face, crimson strands of hair falling before his emerald eyes, almost as if to hide them, but let you know that they were there at the same time. He was wearing his usual school robes and the black shirt beneath that made him look more like a teacher than a student in one of the four houses. In fact, he didn't seem to have anything that showed that he was a member of any of the houses. It was odd.

Her eyes settled on a piece of metal that was sticking out of the top buttonhole of his school robes. It seemed to be a pendant or pin of some kind that had been shaped into a starburst, or possibly some kind of flower. She gently brought her hand up to trace her fingers over the accessory.

"What's this?" She asked quietly. She felt silly when she heard her voice. It was almost like she was some shy little school girl. She was sure that Blake was going to make fun of her for it or something.

Blake looked down at her fingers for a moment, "It's a November Rose…It's supposed to bring good luck and ward of evil…I haven't run into much of either in my lifetime." He slowly brought his hands up and carefully detached the item from his robe.

He held it in his palm for a moment before closing his fingers over it. The fingers of his free hand gently, yet firmly, took hold of Hermione's wrist leaving her hand palm upward. He carefully dropped the November Rose into Hermione's open hand and closed her fingers over it. His emerald eyes remained focused on her brown eyes. Hermione quickly looked away, a soft blush forming in her cheeks.

She spoke quickly with a slight unsteadiness to her words, "I can't take this. It's yours. You should keep it."

"I think at the moment you are in need of some good luck a lot more than I am." Blake's voice was calm as he spoke, "Besides, you can always give it back to me later. It isn't like I'm going to suddenly vanish or anything, and if I do, I doubt that little guy will save me." He chuckled softly.

Hermione stared down at the piece of metal for a long few moments before she managed to find the words to be able to make a response, "I'll return it to you. You know that, right?" Blake nodded, "I just…I can't keep this…It's yours."

"I know, Hermione. I know. I trust you." He laughed softly, "I just couldn't stand watching you pretend to read. Why aren't you doing something with your friends? I'm sure they'd love to talk to you, and at least then you wouldn't be in a stuffy old library pretending to read."

Hermione stared at the book. She hadn't wanted to spend time with Harry, and she really didn't want to spend time with Ron alone. None of this felt right. It didn't feel right to be just hanging around with Ron after all they had been through together. She didn't want to even talk about Harry after how that had all played out. Things were just better when you didn't have to talk to anyone and when you thought that everyone really just didn't want to talk to you either.

She sighed softly, "No…I don't think it would do for me to hang around them…not yet. Everything is still so tense…"

"So your only friends are Harry and that Ron fellow?" Blake raised an eyebrow, "I find that hard to believe. A beautiful girl like you is friendless except for a guy who's either loved or hated by everyone and average Joe number one?"

Hermione furrowed her brow, "They are my friends you know. You shouldn't make fun of them. I don't see you with many friends." She brought her hand to her lips. What else had he said? Did he really say that about her? Did he actually mean it?

"Sorry princess. I suppose I really don't know what I'm talking about." He shrugged as he got up and turned to leave.

Hermione got up quickly abandoning the book, "No, wait!"

Blake turned on his heel softly, looking back to Hermione, "What is it, princess?"

Hermione growled softly at being called that, not once, but twice, "Here," She held out the November Rose, "You should take this back." A slight blush crept into her cheeks as she stood there holding the pin out for him to take for what felt like an eternity.

"I told you, princess, you're going to hold onto that for me for a while." He smiled softly and turned back away, "Maybe the next time we see each other." He then wandered out of the library, leaving Hermione standing there, holding out the small piece of metal, a few female students who had been writing notes back and forth to each other giggled and started writing down more franticly as if afraid that if they didn't hurry they might get caught gossiping.

Hermione sighed as she dropped her arms to her sides. That boy was intolerable sometimes. She didn't know how anyone could deal with him, or why anyone would even try. He was just so frustrating and everything he said aggravated her. What was he trying to say, calling her princess, and what did he mean when he said that she was a beautiful girl! He didn't know what he was talking about! He was just so…

"EUGH!" Hermione marched off to the table that she had been at, picked up her book, and stomped off in the direction of the Gryffindor common room. She needed to take a shower and then she needed to get some more studying done. What she didn't need to do was worry about that Blake character and the sort of things he said.

☼

The hot water poured down from the showerhead. It cascaded over hair and skin before slowly reaching the tub where it ran down towards the drain and was gone. Hermione had been standing in the shower with her head pressed against the wall for several minutes now. She had come in here to get away from having to think and had only ended up thinking more. It bothered her that she couldn't stop thinking about the crimson haired boy. It bothered her even more that she didn't think about Harry as much as she had gotten used to.

She slowly picked up the soap bar from its dish on the wall of the shower and ran it over her arms, leaving a nice coat of lather to be washed off and away by the water that rained down on her from the shower. It was frustrating that she couldn't figure out what was going on, or what it was that she should do to fix it. She was probably the smartest student in Hogwarts, and definitely the smartest in her year. She of course had another year to trudge through, but if she couldn't figure this out what hope did she have at the real world.

She was stuck in a giant logic puzzle. She was sure that if she buried herself in enough books for a long enough amount of time eventually something would come up that would be the answer to all of her problems. She knew that there had to be some intelligent way to go about figuring this out that wouldn't leave her in a difficult position and didn't leave any chance that things could get worse.

The bar of soap slowly began to become slippery in Hermione's hand as she caught herself lathering up the same arm that she had just rinsed off. She closed her eyes and moved to washing off her legs. It was difficult to even shower without concentrating now. It bothered her that she was allowing this to make everyday activities more difficult for her, but she needed to come up with some sort of answer that would allow her to move on with her life and concentrate more on her studies.

Her marks had begun to slip a little bit in the past month. If things continued like this she might not have perfect marks going into the final exams. She wasn't willing to allow that to happen! She needed to get those marks so that she could move on to bigger things. She wasn't even sure what she was going to do with her life. She just wanted to study.

She sighed as she leaned back against the shower wall. Maybe her parents were right. Maybe she needed to decide on something that she wanted to do and just focus on that. They kept telling her that there was nothing that she'd be able to do if she just kept her head stuck in a book all day. She was tired of them always telling her that she needed to do something with her life, that she couldn't just study for ever. She knew that she'd need to do something, she knew that eventually she'd need to pick some sort of a job. She just…she wanted them to get off of her back and let her decide in her own time.

Hermione poured some shampoo into her hand and shivered at the sensation of the coolness of the shampoo compared to the heat of the water. She slowly brought her hands up and massaged the liquid into her hair producing more soap suds that slowly fell of and ran down the drain with the rest of her shower water. She watched silently as the surd snaked down the drain and vanished into the inky black void, never to be seen again.

She sighed as her thoughts traveled back to her life. That was how she felt really. She just wanted people to stop comparing her to Harry. It wasn't like Harry was smarter than her, he was just…he was just Harry! He wasn't even that special, yet when she stood beside him his shadow made her invisible. She was the smart one! She was the one who always thought of what needed to be thought of! Harry was just…he was just a boy, just like Ron. She was tired of how everyone felt that he was different from everyone else somehow. She didn't want to be ignored because Harry was so special.

She rinsed out her hair and turned off the taps. Her hand quickly found a white fluffy towel that she wrapped around herself. She sat on the edge of the tap and looked down at the clothes that she had brought so that she could change into something for dinner. She sighed softly as she looked at how plain they all looked. Some of it was even bordering on tomboyish. There was nothing in this pile of clothing that was going to make her stand out to anyone. There wasn't anything that was going to make her special. When she left the room, she was going to cease being Hermione, and once again start being a Hogwarts Student, Gryffindor house.

She sighed as she put on her under clothes, followed by the white blouse, and the gray vest, adorned with Gryffindor colours around the arms and neck. She stared down at the faded blue jeans. Her skirt sat back in the dormitory, ready to be worn, but it just…it didn't feel right to her. It hadn't felt right to be drawing attention upon herself since the dance. It was obvious to everyone that she wasn't as beautiful as she had been pretending to be. Besides, everyone else wore those same skirts, and she was hardly any more special if she was wearing those.

She slowly pulled up the jeans and did the button on the front before zipping them up. She sighed as she pulled her hair into a loose ponytail and pulled on her school robe. She looked down at the silly girly socks that her parents kept buying her. She hadn't had the heart to tell her parents that she didn't really like them, so she suffered the consequences now by having no other socks. The silly little teddy bear print, and the pinkish tint to the socks made her feel goofy when she was wearing them. She sighed softly in defeat as she pulled the socks on and stared at her shoes.

It was then that she noticed something in her left shoe. She picked up the shoe, turned it over and shook it slightly before something fell out making a soft noise that could only be metal connecting against tile. She slipped the shoe on before looking down at what had come out of it. She looked at the small piece of metal that had been formed into what appeared to be a starburst for a long moment while she put on her other shoe.

Slowly she picked up the small item and slipped it into the top buttonhole of her school robe. It fit so perfectly there and when she had finished attaching it, making sure that it wouldn't move she walked over to the mirror in the room. It had become fogged up from the steamy shower, but she quickly bunched up her sleeve and cleared enough of it to be able to see her reflection in the mirror. She slowly pulled her hair out of the ponytail and smiled softly at what she saw.

She looked down at the November Rose and grinned, "Sure, why not?"