Hermione entered the common room to an uncommon sight. Harry sat on the couch by the fire, Crookshanks on his lap and staring at him. He looked troubled and more than a little sad.
"Harry?" She said tentatively. Harry looked at her and gave her a small, unhappy smile. His eyes glistened. Then he turned away and settled Crookshanks on his lap. The cat, being half Kneazle, probably sensed Harry's state of mind and did not bolt, but made itself comfortable. Harry stroked its fur. "Harry?" She said again. She sat down next to him. Harry looked back at her, then into the fire.
"'Lo, Hermione," he said, his voice low. He gazed at the flames, his eyes unfocused and not really seeing at all. "My mum had ginger hair, you know."
"Yeah," she said softly, her eyes fixed on him. He had a sad look on his face.
"Hermione," he said again, and squeezed his eyes shut. He let out a breath and tilted his head back. "Hermione, I miss my mum." When he opened his eyes, he tears he had been holding back escaped and his face crumpled. He bent over and buried his face in his hands, shaking.
"Oh, Harry," she said, and wrapped her arms around him. Crookshanks hopped off Harry's lap and wandered away. Harry clutched at her arm. She felt a tear drop onto her knee. Her eyes watered, and she stared at the blurry fire.
"It just —" his voice broke. "It hurts."
I know, she wanted to say but couldn't, because she didn't. She didn't know the pain of losing her mother before her life had really even begun. All she could do was hold him and let him cry.