Chapter One: Hermione

Harry blinked and continued to stare blindly into the fire. The common room was empty with the exception of Hermione and a ghost or two. Despite Hermione being in the room, it was unnaturally quiet. She was unnaturally quite. Harry suspected something was wrong but he didn't want to break the unusual silence. He looked at the open book in his hand: potions homework, the worst.

Glancing over to where Hermione sat opposite him, he noticed the reason she had been so quiet. Small pearly tears were sliding down her rosy cheeks, and she didn't bother to wipe them away. When she noticed him watching her, she pressed her nose into the book she was pretending to read and sniffled softly. Harry would have said something, if he had known what to say.

"Err, Hermione? Are, you, uh…" Harry broke off.

" Fine," she muttered and packed her book into her bag quickly. Before Harry could say another word, she rushed up the stairs to her dormitory.

The next morning when Harry entered the Great Hall; Hermione was nowhere in sight. As he scanned the tables, he was distracted by the voice of his best mate, Ron.

"Over here, Harry!" Ron yelled across the hall. Harry nodded and made his way over to the back.

"So," Ron began, stuffing food into his face all the while, as Harry took his seat. "I've figured out who I'm going to ask to the dance." Harry was caught by surprise by this statement. He had completely forgotten about the dance that was to come.

After the Yule Ball had been such a success last year, Dumbledore decided that one dance a year would be a "charming" thing to have before the holiday break. So as the holidays approached, it was soon time for the first annual Winter Festival.

"Well aren't you going to ask who?" Ron added impatiently, reacting to the blank look on Harry's face.

"Oh, right. Err, who?"

"I had so hoped you'd ask," Ron gushed with a tremendous grin on his face. He waited a moment, supposedly adding drama to the situation, then looked around slyly and whispered, "Lavender Brown."

"Oh," Harry surprisingly admitted, "I didn't know you fancied her."

"Well I don't really, but there aren't that many left, and I think she's the best looking of the lot."

"Okay."

"I thought I'd ask her today. By, say, 3:15.Yes, definitely, by 3:15, so that way-- "

"Have you seen Hermione?" Harry cut in.

"What? Oh, Hermione? No, 'fraid not. Don't think she came to breakfast. Why do you ask?"

"No reason, just wondering."

"Oh, okay. So anyway--"

"I've got to go, see you at lunch," Harry scrambled up and darted out.

"Harry? Harry! Where are you going?"

Once out of the hall, Harry stopped to think of where she could be. He was really worried. He knew Hermione could take care of herself, but as a friend, she really seemed upset. Harry knew he couldn't discuss it with Ron, Ron was too pre-occupied, so he'd go look for her.

After checking the library and a number of corridors, he gave up and decided he'd catch her at lunch. Harry glanced at his watch and gasped: he was fifteen minutes late for his first class.

Harry raced down to the dungeons and entered the dark classroom, panting for breath.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, so kind of you to join us, five points from Gryffindor." Harry headed for the back, "Mr. Potter, for your lateness, you are to join me in the front of the class, and later this evening for detention." Harry moaned and new this day wasn't going to be good.

When Harry entered the Great Hall for lunch, he took his usual seat next to Ron. Ron had just as much to say as he had at breakfast, so Harry decided to just tune him out.

He picked at his mashed potatoes and soon got up, obeying his lack of an appetite. He figured that if Hermione didn't want to talk, he wouldn't make her, even if his curiosities urged him otherwise.

The rest of the day was pretty normal, and pretty boring. After classes were over, Harry retired to the common room, which was much more crowded than the previous night. He attempted to work, but soon the noise got to him.

"Oy, Harry, where you headed off to?" Ron shouted as Harry gathered his books.

"The library; it's too loud in here." Harry replied.

To Harry's relief, the library was less occupied. He took a seat at one of the tables near a back window, and settled into the chair. He looked outside. The mountainous trees were tucked in with white snow blankets, and the grounds were equally dressed. This sight entranced Harry, and only when he came back to reality, back to the glum, dark library, did he notice the curtain of bushy brown hair against the wall.

"Hermione?" he whispered. Hermione looked up, surprised, and smiled weakly.

"Hello Harry." She spoke quickly and then returned her gaze to the open book in her hand.

Harry got out of his seat and shuffled over to her.

"Hermione? Err, about last night. Are you okay? I don't mean to pry, but--"

"Harry, I… I think I'm in…love." She stared at his face intently waiting for a response. Harry stared at her too, trying to think of what he could possibly say to this.

"Oh…really?" She nodded quickly.

"With who?" The same tears bunched up in her eyes but this time they didn't slide down her cheeks, they ran at top speed. She wiped them away hastily and ran out of the room sobbing.

Harry continued to stand there, dumbfounded. 'Who could she possibly be in love with?' He thought to himself.