Hermione POV
Eyes closed, breathing evenly, absolute quiet, none of it was working. Hermione gave it up for a bad job and sat up. If she couldn't sleep then there was no point in continuing to try. Having gone through her first year herbology text and all the french verb tenses she had ever learned, it was clear that no amount of mental recitation was going to do it. No mystery, what had been keeping her awake.
It had been six days since she sat on the stone landing and recklessly told a sixth year Slytherin what had been bothering her. Not in a coherent manner either, when she started going over the conversation the day after it happened she was startled. The questions he asked completely ignored the shocking things she had said. Sirius for one, that should have been news to him, or seemed like insanity. The tall dark young man hadn't scoffed at her rambling words trying to explain how she noticed the compulsion. It had been there, the magic that touched hers. Flashes of feeling came through it sometimes but it felt as if the magic itself was telling her it was okay to speak to him, that she needed to.
Nothing she had read tallied with her own experiences. It wasn't possible for her to remember the first instance of feeling that magic touch hers. A monthly so after starting Hogwarts she finally began to notice that some of the overwhelm she felt was magic on hers. It was a basic defence book she had brought as extra reading that provided the clue. It spoke of the instinct that sometimes warned you there was an unfamiliar magic in your vicinity. Having always been a bit energetic in her pursuits and that combined with the excitement and uncertainty of her introduction to magic seemed, in hindsight, to explain her nearly frantic attitude that year. It had taken her months to stop reacting to the brush of magics against hers.
Finally near exams she had gone and asked Professor McGonnagal if she understood correctly what was happening. It was interfering with her concentration in the library and she sometimes felt calm or aware of her surroundings when she didn't think she should.
Unsure of how to explain the individual kind of magic that felt was touching hers, Hermione just included them in the list. The teacher had listened to the young girls litany of examples and offered her a ginger newt. It was normal to notice the magics of others. The castle was a massive conduit of magic between itself, the land, and even students. Perhaps Hermione was a bit more sensitive to outside magics, and she agreed that Hermione was right to notice it and right to assess then dismiss the information. Nothing to worry about and certainly nothing wrong with her.
Second year had been different. More worry came from the One, as she started referring to that specific magic in her mind. Even with what she discovered and the warning she felt like she was listening to it had ended, for her, in petrification. That had also been when she noticed something was not the way it should be, in regards to Harry Potter. Perhaps it was the novelty of the Wizarding world that blinded her to it for nearly two years. It also could have been her idolization of teachers and learning, or maybe just her youth. So many things even then on the mental list she labelled 'Not right with Harry'.
Hagrid had visited him, not a teacher. He had no knowledge of the Wizarding world at all, or of his own history. His home life was clearly very bad, if not abusive. No clothes, or even small things that most kids had such as books or games. Most concerning and the one that seemed most relevant now was that adults did not react normally to events concerning her friend.
The Weasleys seemed to think it was more concerning that their sons flew a car to rescue him, not that he needed rescuing from a locked cell. Professors treated him with varying degrees between hovering or ignoring his personal life. Outright disdain from Professor Snape and an unhealthy interference from the Headmaster. Lupin was here all year and never really opened up to Harry or talked with him about his parents. From a warning letter for an elf doing magic to a year later having his own magic ignored and allowances made. The same man ignored Harry's assertions about Sirius ten months later. This tournament, just thinking of it was enough to bring frustrated tears to her eyes.
It all seemed too big to deal with and it made dealing with the small things more difficult. For example they had the tasks to worry about right now. Maybe Ron and Harry could play chess or laugh, now that they were friends again. For her though, the moments not spent doing school work or needed tasks were often spent worrying about the larger world or things she didn't really understand. The prophet was terrible for her piece of mind, it exemplified so many of the dangerous trends in this world. When trying to explain things to her parents she often compared them to the muggle world, this brought about uncomfortable truths. Of course she didn't tell her parents most of these and tried to ignore the amount of uncertainty they tried to hide.
Learning was not just for learning's sake anymore. This year she had realised she was amassing information for use. Her private study time and the things she noticed when doing assignments had shifted focus. Could it help them? That small mention of an associated spell or potion, would it be needed when it happened? What exactly it was and when it might happen was vague, but it really felt like it was there. All she really had to go on was Harry's dream, the one with the creature that was Voldemort killing an old man. It had a wand. Regardless of the shape of its body and Wormtail had been there. How could everyone ignore this?
Not everyone knew of course but enough people did, she thought. His scar was hurting and he had told Sirius, but nothing. Of course the man was more worried about Harry surviving the tournament than anything else but she wished she was sure someone was thinking about these things. Someone other than the Headmaster.
Hermione Granger, the brightest witch, she let out a small snort. She was just another girl, sure she was a witch but that only went so far. She had crushes and body issues. Fifteen years old, closer to sixteen maybe if she counted the time turner. This brought Adrian Pucey back to mind.
What had happened? How could she have told him those things. Even with the vow he had taken, and what had possessed him to do that? Putting that baffling question aside she thought again of what she had said to him. Trying to ignore the emotions she had seen range across his handsome face. Even though she had wanted to talk about her reasons for considering leaving, she had mentioned it twice, that wasn't what came out of her mouth. Dumbledore, she couldn't believe she had spoken about him. Never had she listened to the One magics leadings before. It hadn't ever been as strong as it was that night. As sure as she was that no one was listening, that nothing heard her, it was so puzzling.
Sirius. He seemed to come up in relation to many of the concerns she had. Professor Lupin too in a few instances but mostly in relation to her friends godfather. It could be that she was sure some kind of compulsion had been used. That was the first time she had said it aloud and it was much clearer to her, not merely a suspicion. She had been cursed. Harry had been cursed. An adult, presumably a teacher as it happened here, had used illegal magic against them. The other side of that issue was Sirius himself. It was impossible to believe Dumbledore couldn't hide him from the Ministry. So he was choosing to have Sirius be alone, on the run. Breaking into Wizarding homes to speak to Harry risked his death.
Speak to Sirius went to the top of her mental planning list. Maybe not the top, she would leave the tournament and keeping Harry alive there for now. It would have to wait until this summer, speaking with Sirius. She would have to plan it out carefully. So much to think of, initial contact, planned meeting, preparation, her conscience. Not telling her best friend all she was thinking when he was at the center of it felt wrong. That was not a question but telling him, how could she explain? Deep inside she also felt like a little girl that thought she knew something important. It could be truly important or it could just seem so from her limited height. How could she tell Harry that she thought Dumbledore was grooming him to be basically alone. She just couldn't do it, not without outside validation.
Alone. When she let herself think about such huge problems and the ramifications of any action it just made her feel alone. It had been wonderful to speak to Adrian. Someone was listening to her, Hermione Granger. For that time she hadn't been alone with her problems. Alone among her friends as well. Most days she could tell herself that Ron was her friend, they spent time together and it was habit to sit together at meals. She had been to his house and liked his family. This whole year had been difficult though, Ron especially. Not speaking to Harry, not trusting him. The hurt was clear to see on Harry's face and it hurt her too. Harry was not as studious as her though he did better without constant distractions. She had spent more time walking around outside and he had spent more time in the library. The task had kept them busy, it had been alright but she realised that Harry depended on Ron for laughs and just hanging out. She did that differently and was somewhat of an introvert.
Shaking her head she told herself, and would keep telling herself, he had just listened. There had been no flirting really or romance. Maybe he was not as aware of her as she was of him. From her first year he had been the one she noticed. Even when in the depths of thought or writing she would notice him out of the corner of her eye. The rather gangly good looking boy he had been then didn't hold a candle to the gorgeous man he was becoming. Such dark hair and those dark blue eyes, like sapphires. Ridiculous Hermione. Even if he wouldn't kiss her or spend time with her maybe he could help some way. If she could be certain he wouldn't use it against her, or Harry really.
In all those books about magical connections she had run across several references to vows and oaths. Perhaps there was one for this situation. Hermione didn't really know the Slytherin well enough to know he wouldn't end up a Death Eater if it went that far. Just the thought of her classmates in masks like at the world cup made her feel a bit sick. Even stuck up Malfoy deserved a better life than wasting his potential on hurting muggles. Slytherin consistently produced excellent witches and wizards, many of the great discoveries and inventions were made by Slytherins. There was much to admire in them too. Ambition, loyalty and intellect. Those three were things she herself valued and characteristics she possessed. Regardless, it had been so reckless. If he hadn't given her that vow, or done so without prompting, she wouldn't have let herself unload like that.
Adrian Pucey had looked at her. Spent moments looking at her face and she had thought he was looking at her lips once. When Victor and her had entered the ball it was almost like a sea of color and faces. His had been clear though, in the darkest of blues he had caught her notice immediately. The colour was a few shades darker than his eyes and in her memory he was looking at her, with appreciation. If it wasn't for the time spent with him after she wouldn't have believed that was really what had been in his eyes. She had seen it though, alone on that landing. It was as if he really saw her, the lines that made up her face. When he met her gaze it was all she could do not to get distracted. Of course this piece of male perfection was a Slytherin, and a pureblood.
She wasn't ashamed of her parents or of the muggle world. In a way she was proud of the fact that she was best in her year, and so new to magic. Sometimes she thought about what she would be capable of if she had spent the three years before Hogwarts learning about magic instead of science. Or French, classic literature, algebraic equations or animal species. She didn't want to trade the knowledge, just wanted both. She kept up somewhat with her muggle education. Three weeks of each summer were spent taking the tests and doing the in person requirements for each class. It worked for her and made her feel that she wasn't just giving up the world she had come from. Admitting to herself that she would not have taken the tests if not for her parents. It seemed reassuring to them that she kept muggle education an option. They weren't sold on apprenticeships being more common that structured post secondary education.
Adrian said he would contact her, she hoped he did. Some moments were spent just basking in the thought of him wanting to spend time with her or even thinking about her. That train of thought was cut off when she blushed at its direction. Right. They needed a way for their conversation to be private and for her to feel secure in being able to talk to him. If they couldn't do that then she would just keep on as she had been. With a few new plans in place. Eventually she fell asleep thinking about Adrian looking so intently at her lips.