Weeks passed slowly for everyone in Hogwarts. Classes came and went. House points were won and lost. Quidditch games didn't bring the usual allure to the students. Even the teachers were feeling the lull that fell like a shadow. A silent killer.
For Hermione though, it was worse. Her classes were worse now then they had been before. Quickly she had flown into the top position, surprising everyone when she beat Valloriey at the end of first quarter tests. It was all the same to Hermione. She was treated the same way now as she had in her own time. The others looked at her with admiration and jealously. They would smile to her face and shoot her dirty looks the second her back was turned. Teachers would gossip and chat about how proud they were of their prized pupil. Happy to not have eyes in the back of her head, Hermione tried to make it through the day without letting the hurt feelings get to her. For her classes, the only salvation came when instead of seeing her as a threat, Valloriey saw it as a healthy competition. Together they would study, trying to see who knew the curriculum better. Most mornings Albus would find them both sitting in the common room, books scattered on the chairs and floor.
Albus was happy. He and Hermione were doing well together. He loved walking her to class and sitting next to her in the Great Hall. Sometimes, though he wasn't sure if he was imagining it, he was sure that Hermione leaned a little closer to him then the others. And he loved when she would put her arms around him in a friendly hug. He hoped that maybe she felt the same way, and that they wouldn't always be just friends. But there was the fear that maybe she just did it because that was what she'd gotten used to in Mongolia. Maybe people were more touchy-feely in Mongolia. And maybe she only did it because they were friends. Nothing more, just friends.
But did they have to be just friends?
Albus had stayed silent as the Halloween Ball came and went. He watched as boys failed to win Hermione's heart. Sometimes he laughed when he saw their cast down faces, misery filled eyes. At the dance, Hermione has dressed modestly, appearing in a lavender gown she had borrowed from Valloriey. Even had agreed that she looked stunning. Well not everyone, Nicola sent her murderous looks all evening. Like the other dresses of the time, Hermione's dress had been frilly with a hoop skirt. But the bodice had hugged Hermione in all of the right places. With her hair lying loosely along her shoulders, the boys had practically drooled as she walked by.
Albus had watched as the line to get to Hermione grew. Each boy waiting patiently for the chance to ask her for one dance. Many times, when the line had been its shortest, Albus was tempted to join the masses. But every time he looked at her face he changed his mind. Her smile was bright and seemed to be filled with happiness but her eyes showed no emotion. It was easy to see she was tried of being passed among the boys. He had been tempted to save her. But to try and get near, would have been suicide. And so he just sat and watched, a punch glass in his hand. He smiled when she smiled, and tried to imagine the feel of her in his arms.
Looking at her now, the light had returned to her eyes. Sitting next to her in class, watching as her hand sped along her parchment, taking notes. Now when she smiled, her whole face lit up.
Next time, Albus vowed, he would ask her to dance. Hell, she would be his date!