Author's Notes: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME! Sorry it took me so long to post this chapter; FFDDD was not setting in, I was just having a small case of writer's block. I've had ideas bouncing around my head for so long that I believe I got rather stuck a few times in this chapter when the ideas disappeared. I've also taken up re-reading GOF and OOTP again at nighttime, which is when I usually work on my writing. So here's chapter nine to keep you all busy.

CrimsonEnchantress: To answer the question in your review, Hermione didn't mean anything special or secretive by her response to Desdemona's comment. She was referring to Snape, for instance, and how he frightened most his pupils.

Siriusly Disturbed: Thank you very much for pushing me to write this chapter! Yes, I know you know the plot and no one does, but that is because you are the beta-reader, remember? Ghostly Outcomes (your story) is coming along quite nicely and deserves many more reviews, so good luck on that. =)

Nymbis of the Underworld: Yes, I quite like Theo and Mallory, too! I'm very glad you agree! I've wanted to kick Harry also, but I think it's time he becomes a bit nicer. Never read Spiderman comics.

No crazy antics to get you to review this time. Just do it.

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CHAPTER NINE – AMENDING FRIENDSHIPS

When Hermione dazedly opened her eyes, she winced against the bright sunlight pouring in through the windows. Her head felt dreadfully heavy and was throbbing in pain. At first, she couldn't understand where she was or why – the oddly shaped figures located to her side suggested she was in some sort of bedroom – but when her eyes began to focus, memories of the night before came rushing back. The visit to Hagrid's… the people in the forest… the fight… the parchment… Then she realized she was in the Hospital wing and bolted up in bed, causing someone at her side to gasp.

"Hermione?" the person asked, looking taken aback but relieved all the same. It was the first word he had spoken to her – in six years, actually.

"Harry? What are you doing here?" Hermione was thoroughly confused. She was alone in the Hospital wing with Harry, of all people. Harry, who had taken up hating her for so many years because she hadn't supported him, but yet here he was, standing at her bedside, his eyebrows knitted together in that very old worried look Hermione remembered so well. Then Hagrid's words from their meeting the previous night came flooding back… "He started sayin' he misses the way yeh'd scold him for cheatin' on his homework. Havin' himself a bit of nostalgia, I think." Still, Hermione didn't know whether to rejoice that he was talking to her or hit him – she was slightly hurt that it took a near-death experience to get him to say something. In the end, she just decided to put aside thinking altogether, as it caused a rather large amount of pain in her head.

"I'm making sure you're all right," Harry replied seriously. Hermione studied his face, but it remained absolutely devoid of expression. "How do you feel?"

"My head hurts something awful," she muttered truthfully, touching it tenderly and noticing a considerably large bump. Her hands felt oddly numb, and glancing down, she realized they had been wrapped tightly in bandages.

"It should," said Harry, still not showing an ounce of emotion. "You were hit over the head with a small boulder. You're lucky your skull didn't crack." His eyes wandered over to an orange bottle sitting on Hermione's bed. He picked it up and shoved it in her hands. "Pomfrey wants you to drink that. She's up in McGonagall's office, discussing some… things. Drink it," he added, seeing her reluctant countenance.

Madam Pomfrey's tonics were known to be rather repulsive, so Hermione pinched her nose and tipped the bottle into her mouth, downing the entire thing in a few gulps. The liquid was thick and scratched her throat; she resisted a strong urge to cough, saving Harry from getting showered in orange goop.

There was an awkward silence for several minutes in which neither Hermione nor Harry knew what to say. Harry became very interested in the lamp on the bedside table as Hermione racked her brain; she was very curious as to what happened in the forest after she passed out, who the people were, and what they were doing in the first place, but she also didn't want to say anything that would set Harry off.

"Where's –?"

"You were –"

They had spoken at exactly the same time but quickly cut off, Hermione making a deliberate attempt to avoid Harry's eyes. Her feeble effort at making conversation could wait; it was clear that whatever Harry had to say was more important.

"No, I'm sorry, go ahead."

Harry hesitated for a moment as if wondering if he should continue or not. He drew a long, slow breath before speaking. "Last night – you were doing a pretty good job of holding your offender off, you know. But it was lucky we found you when we did… your face was all scratched and your arm kind of stuck out at an odd angle, I thought it was broken, and then you got were knocked out by that rock –"

"Who was there? And how'd you find me?" Hermione asked quickly, not meaning to interrupt but thoroughly curious all the same.

"Hagrid was coming up to the school after you left his cabin and heard shouts when he got to the doors, so he ran inside, looking for the first person who could help him. He found Ron and me in the staff room along with McGonagall, that Astronomy teacher, Bella, Ginny, and Desdemona. He led us out onto the grounds… wasn't hard to follow the yells, really… but by the time we'd arrived, whoever you were fighting against had fled."

Hermione's heart sank. She was truly hoping the person had gotten caught. Harry was supposed to be a top Auror, anyway. "So you didn't see them at all, then? Not even their face?"

"No idea who it was," Harry answered flatly, looking rather disappointed himself.

"There were two people," Hermione said suddenly, quickly remembering. "The tall one who attacked me, and then a shorter one, who fell into the bushes – I think it was a child, but I couldn't see –"

Grimly, Harry pointed to a bed on Hermione's left, a few down from her own, where a small lump was visible under the sheets. It appeared that they weren't the only ones in the Hospital wing after all.

"It was a student," Harry explained as if he didn't believe his own words. "She passed out cold as soon as we arrived but we managed to revive her a few hours later. The situation's almost unthinkable… everyone was baffled… still are, really."

"Who is it?" Hermione asked seriously.

Harry frowned a moment, trying to recollect her name. "Ron mentioned her yesterday. Said she was in your Transfiguration class. Mallory something."

Hermione's stomach completely dissolved, leaving an empty nothingness. She couldn't believe it. There was no way it could have been Mallory, the young student who, so bright and perceptive, reminded Hermione so much of herself at that age.

Then she remembered how the girl's voice had sounded in the Forest… it had definitely been familiar, and Hermione could now match the voice with the only person she knew it could have come from…

"That's impossible," Hermione muttered breathlessly. "She never would have done that, I doubt any of the students would have. Do you think this is one of the odd occurrences everyone's been talking about?"

Harry only nodded his head, a grave look upon his face.

Another thought dawned on Hermione. It seemed as if her brain was clearing now and memories of the night before were coming faster. "They had a piece of parchment or something that they were referring to. I didn't understand what it was, exactly. But they were talking about me. I very distinctly heard my name, and I don't know why…"

She trailed off when she noticed Harry's expression become even more solemn, if it were possible. "Yeah, they were talking about you because… Mallory had stolen your records from McGonagall's office – you know, tabs kept on all the staff members," he added when Hermione cocked an eyebrow. "She was supposedly giving them to the person she was meeting, though I dunno why anyone would want them. It's not like you've got horribly dangerous enemies around the world, do you?"

"Actually, yes," Hermione answered rather proudly. Of course, one should never be proud of having foes who want you dead, but at least it was a mark of how successful she was at her job.

Harry shrugged. "They didn't get the paper, so don't worry. And the odd thing is," he said, lowering his voice even though Hermione was the only person who could hear him, "the child didn't have a clue what she had done when she woke up. Seemed very surprised to be lying in the hospital wing, and even more surprised when Ron accused her of stealing, fraternizing with Dark Wizards, and sneaking into the Forbidden Forest after hours."

"Of course, Hermione murmured more to herself than Harry. "In all the incidents, it's been reported that the students have woken from a sort of daze afterwards with no memory of what they'd done. She wasn't punished, was she?"

"Got a detention and a few days' worth of staying up here," Harry said rather indifferently. "Everyone seemed to think she was a bit of a nutcase, Ron in particular." He either didn't notice the scowl on Hermione's face or chose to ignore it."

"I don't think it was her fault. But why would anyone want my records?"

Harry shrugged again. "Your guess is as good as mine."

It didn't make sense to Hermione – but then again, nothing lately had made any sense whatsoever. Thinking hard only intensified the pounding in her head, so she decided to put it off till later. She normally wasn't a procrastinator, but there were more important issues at hand, ones that had absolutely nothing to do with dodgy wizards in dark forests.

The two of them lapsed into silence, Harry sinking into the chair beside Hermione's bed. She was going to ask where the rest of the teachers were – most likely in the staff room or teaching, no doubt, and even though she did want to speak with Ginny, it would've proved to be tedious conversation, anyway.

Hermione desperately wished for Madam Pomfrey to come bustling through the door or something, anything to break the uncomfortable silence that was hanging around the room like an ominous storm cloud. She had nothing more to say to Harry but was rather lonely and didn't want the only company available to leave.

"I'm sorry," Harry said quite suddenly, startling Hermione. He wasn't looking at her but looking down at the ground with the first emotion Hermione had seen on his face – a look that suggested he truly was sorry.

"You – what?" she asked, unable to find the right words to voice her astonishment.

"I never should've gotten mad at you," he continued honestly. "I should've understood, and it's my fault… I should've started talking to you again when Ron and I made up."

"We never should have stopped talking in the first place," Hermione replied a bit more coldly than she had intended to.

"I can't believe it's been six years," said Harry in a very strangled sort of voice. He seemed unable to believe his own words again. "It was too long. You don't know how hard it was… whenever you were mentioned, Ron got all tense and rigid and wouldn't talk again until the subject was changed. I guess I just got accustomed to doing the same."

Hermione was utterly flabbergasted. So it did take a near-death experience for Harry to finally come to his senses and apologize. True, she had fantasized more than once about the three of them being a trio of friends again, walking down the lawns of Hogwarts together, laughing… but here, now? In the hospital wing after a night and morning of intense and confusing revelations? With her head pounding like someone was using it as a drum? Hermione didn't know whether to smack Harry – the urge was very tempting – or brush it aside as a cruel joke. He didn't really want to apologize or he would've done it years ago. It was obvious he valued other things far more than their friendship – if there even was a friendship between then anymore. Harry's only saying this to be polite, Hermione convinced herself. Just so McGonagall will get off our backs about neglecting our duties. He doesn't mean it.

Harry was shifting his feet nervously, and, Hermione noticed, blushing slightly. "I understand if you'd rather – if you don't want to, you know, make up," he mumbled, barely moving his lips.

There was nothing Hermione could say. The throbbing pain inside her head had stopped and was replaced by a feeling of dizziness. Harry was still avoiding her gaze, apologizing to the infirmary floor instead, but Hermione didn't care. She kept quiet and let him keep talking; for once, she was interested in what he had to say.

"It was awful," he muttered quietly, twisting his hands in his lap. Hermione was puzzled – she really had no idea what exactly was awful, until Harry continued speaking.

"All alone, up against Voldemort… everyone backed down or was too busy fighting off some other Dark Wizard… even Dumbledore had left to hold off the Lestranges" – Hermione clenched her teeth at the mention of Bellatrix – "and I was assuming you and Ron would be there to help. But no one came. I thought it was finally the end and it was all going to be over… I'd done it before, you know, fought him, though it was different this time. He was more powerful. And then… I don't know how it happened, or what I did, but… I won. And I'm not saying I wasn't scared, because I was. I just – it would've been more reassuring to have you and Ron there…" He trailed off lamely, shrugging again, still directing his stare downwards.

Hermione felt like someone had thrown her against a wall. Her head was spinning from too many confessions in too short of a time. She had to admit, she wasn't sure if she wanted to make up, exactly… when she considered all of the facts at the same time, there really was no reason on earth she should accept Harry's apology. It was his entire fault, anyway.

Or was it?

Perhaps Hermione played a bigger role in the break-up of their friendship than she had realized. Pretending Ron was nonexistent for the time being, she looked at the situation from Harry's point of view and realized there was much more to consider than she had apprehended. In all truth, she would have felt pretty betrayed herself, had Harry done what she had done (still pretending Ron was nothing more than an imaginary ex-acquaintance).

"Harry, I – I never thought about it," Hermione mumbled. "I was just… scared, I guess. I was never as brave as you were at that sort of thing. I know it's a little late for this now, but… I'm sorry, too," she finally said, feeling immediately much lighter, as if the words had lifted a heavy burden off her shoulders.

It was like some strange reality twist, Hermione thought, apologizing to Harry for something that occurred six years ago in the hospital wing of Hogwarts. She half expected Harry to explode in saying, "This is stupid, what are we doing?" It didn't seem like this would ever happen… after six years of wondering and waiting, Hermione was beginning to loose all hope.

And then, for the first time since Hermione's own schooldays, Harry broke into a big, genuine grin – not a scowl, not a glare, but an actual grin that was directed at her. He didn't need words to describe his euphoria, and she didn't either. Her smile was so wide she was beginning to think her mouth was going numb.

"I'd hug you or something," said Harry, "but I'm sure you're already in enough pain."

Hermione responded with yet another grin.

Transfiguration classes resumed the follow morning once the professor was no longer indisposed. In unnaturally high spirits, Hermione was quite eager to return to teaching and wasn't in the mood for a proper lesson. Instead, she allowed the students to partner up and practice Cross-Species Switches for the entire hour and a half, much to their ecstasy.

"Is Mallory still in the Hospital wing, professor?" squeaked tiny Laura Snippet halfway through Hermione's last afternoon class.

"Yes," Hermione sighed, fiddling with her quill. The poor girl did indeed remain in the infirmary, utterly disturbed and most likely still in a state of shock. Hermione knew that the mandatory questionings had taken place that morning; she herself had seen the Minister of Magic, Marshall Dempsey, and several other Ministry officials enter the Hospital wing to interrogate Mallory about the events of the night before last.

"Will she be returning soon?"

"I don't know when she'll be returning, exactly," Hermione replied quietly.

"Well, I for one am glad I don't have someone breathing down my neck anymore," Theodore announced loudly, flipping to the back of his book where Hermione caught sight of the words ADVANCED HUMAN TRANSFORMATIONS at the top of the page. His partner was looking rather uneasy. "She'd have a cow if she knew how much homework I've been putting off lately."

"Mr. Lloyd, we are only practicing on the gerbils today," said Hermione pointedly. "You may not turn Higsby into a Chimaera, so I must ask you to kindly skip that chapter." Looking rather put out, Theo closed his book and pretended not to notice his partner's sigh of relief.

"And may I remind you that your essay on ways to avoid beheading phoenixes during species conversion is due tomorrow. I would not suggest procrastinating until the last minute."

Theo muttered several words under his breath which sounded oddly like something that would give him a week's worth of detentions, but the bell rang, giving Hermione no opportunity to do so. The class filed out of the room and headed towards dinner. After packing up the gerbils into their cages and organizing her desk one last time, Hermione followed suit, quite hungry herself.

She entered the exuberantly noisy Great Hall and cheerily walked up to the long staff table, nodding to several students along the way. Ginny was waving her over towards an empty seat between her and Harry, and Hermione accepted it graciously, smiling widely at Harry while sitting down. She couldn't help it; after their little reunion in the hospital wing, she was completely overjoyed at the thought of having her best friend back. It was as if the past six years had never happened, which was a perfectly fine way to keep it, of course. Still, Hermione couldn't ignore the obligatory glare from Ron as she spooned a heap of mashed potatoes onto her plate.

"How were your classes today? Feeling all right?" Ginny asked, eyeing Hermione nervously. She nodded absently and watched as Ron leaned over to whisper something in Harry's ear; Harry twisted his head around and hissed something indecipherable at Ron, who shrugged and picked up his fork, twirling it around on his plate. Harry chanced a glance at Hermione and smiled weakly, but she wasn't fooled; Ron had once again been asking Harry about his newfound friendship with Hermione. Every time she had stopped in the staff room for a cup of coffee between classes, she noticed Ron whispering to Harry and staring pointedly at Hermione all the while. It was clear Ron was confused and, possibly, jealous that Hermione and Harry had made up…and Hermione decided to take advantage of the opportunity.

"So, Harry," she began conversationally. "Heard you just got back from Africa."

Harry perked up a considerable amount at these words. "Yeah," he replied with much enthusiasm. "Two ancient wizard tribes started up a fire fight right in the heart of a Muggle village over a herd of Nundus or something – don't know what they were doing with illegal possession of them in the first place. Ron and I were called down to put a stop to it but things didn't, erm, turn out the way we had hoped."

Even after just a couple sentences, the entire table was hooked on Harry's every word. It was obvious the staff loved his adventure tales (much more than Ron's, at any rate – Ron often exaggerated his to unbelievable extents that always ended in a near-death experience).

Dramatically taking a swig of pumpkin juice, Harry continued. "Turns out the Nundus weren't properly tied up and about a dozen of them got loose and trampled the village. Half the Muggles living there were either crushed or they died of fright. The two tribes got in a lot of trouble with the African Ministry of Magic, so in the end, we had to step in and play witness to the event during the trials. A real mess over a whole lot of nothing," Harry added dismally to several nods of agreement from his co-workers.

"What about the Nundus?" Hermione asked, quite interested. "They were caught and tamed, right?"

Harry shook his head. "Ended up in Egypt, and who knows how. Obviously barged in on a big pyramid show or something. Extra recruits were sent to help; we had to put half the country under Memory Charms. Then we had to round up the Nundus, send them to a camp somewhere in the Sahara Desert, and travel back to Morocco to settle the dispute between the two tribes and bring them in for questioning on how they acquired the illegal beasts in the beginning. After that was done, we had to repair the destroyed Muggle homes in the village before they all woke up from the spells they were under and realized their houses were suddenly missing." Harry took a big breath upon finishing with a look upon his face that clearly said he was glad that adventure was over with.

"Harry, tell us about the time you and Ron tracked down that Dark Wizard posing as a goblin and you had to chase him into a mine before catching him single-handedly!" Ginny squealed, her eyes lighting up in the girlish way Hermione remembered from their childhood days.

Before anyone knew it, Harry was off again, spinning another spectacular tale from one of his dangerous escapades. Hermione could not help it; along with the rest of the table, it was as if Harry hoodwinked them into hanging onto his every word. She couldn't ever remember a dinner filled with such anticipation of what was to come next.

Ron, however, was looking surlier by the minute. He didn't laugh, clap, or shout along with the other professors at different intervals in Harry's stories. Instead, he smashed his peas into a rather repulsive looking mush, glaring at his drinking goblet all the while. Apparently, he did not appreciate being left out of telling the stories that made everyone admire Harry so.

"… and Courtney, this girl I was dating at the time who later tried to kill me, had to come bail me out. What a nightmare. You can't Apparate or Disapparate in places like those, so I had no way of escaping."

The table looked slightly disappointed when Harry concluded the end of his exploits for the night, but they were satisfied nonetheless. Hermione herself had to admit it had been a rather enjoyable meal.

"Harry," Ginny began casually, but Hermione could notice the certain air of trepidation in her voice. "It doesn't seem like you and Ron have had a lot of time for, er – relationships, what with traveling around the world like you do. Are you seeing anyone?"

The table fell silent, Desdemona stifling a small giggle. Ron promptly dropped his fork with a clang.

Thankfully, Harry laughed. "Not right now," he answered nonchalantly. Ginny loosened up a bit. "After Courtney, I've been rather afraid that they'll all turn out to be Death Eaters or something." He smiled widely at Ron and gave him a noticeable wink.

"I'm going to bed," Ron muttered quickly, pushing away his battle field of a dinner plate and standing up. "Night, Harry." Hermione watched him leave the Great Hall, not even bothering to give her his customary glare. Harry didn't seem to notice anything; he himself was pushing back his plate (which was rather empty, considering how much time he had spent talking).

"Think I will too," he said, calling goodnight down the table. "Bye, Hermione," he added, grinning again. Hermione beamed back with less enthusiasm than usual; something about Ron's lack of glowering had perturbed her.

"Hermione," Ginny's voice called, bringing her back to her senses. "There's another Hogsmeade visit next weekend. Care to go? I'm sure more chaperones are needed."

"Right," said Hermione offhandedly. "Chaperones. Of course I'll go. It'd be a nice opportunity to do some Christmas shopping."

And with the prospect of visiting Hogsmeade stuck in her mind, Hermione ambled off to bed, her high spirits still lingering all the same.