A/N: I'm finally back from Newfoundland, cough Canada. And ready to start writing the next chapter and give all of you who reviewed something more to read. Might take a few days or so… but I am back! I'll try to finish this chapter very soon.

It amazes me that some people actually plan out entire stories before writing them. What I mean is, I have certain plot points already spinning in my head, and I make the rest up as I go along. I don't, however, tend to take suggestions I do not ask for unless they're really, really good. So try not to help me write the story. If this was a collaboration, it would probably never have been started.

Disclaimer Two: I only formally disclaim in one chapter. See chapter 1. Thanks.
The Negative Side


Time For A Change

Hermione received answers to her letters in fairly large packages, which she enlisted Harry and Ron to carry back to her room at the hotel. "What could be in here?" Harry grunted.

"And who sent you these? Are they from your parents?" Ron asked breathlessly. They were lugging the heavy boxes to the elevator.

"No, Ronald, and it's none of your business, both of you, what the contents of my mail are." Hermione folded her arms. She was ahead of them by half a room, standing at the elevator. "Hurry up, you two."

"Bloody hell, Hermione, when did you get so…provoked?"

"Don't swear." She stepped into the elevator, then gestured to the boys to come in after her. She pressed the button for floor five, and the doors closed. Hermione wasn't letting on, but she was dying to get the packages into her room and open them. If she was going to stick to her decision, she wanted to do it quickly and completely.

"She's gone all misty-eyed again," said Harry's voice suddenly.

"Well, she's probably thinking about school again. Imagining how wonderful it'll be to boss everyone around once she's Head Girl," Ron replied.

"Ron, shut up, you'll jinx it!"

"Come off it, Hermione. Do you really believe that anyone else in our class could possibly be Head Girl if it's the choice between you and… someone?" He raised his eyebrows in a way that reminded her strangely of Malfoy, and she looked away. She shrugged.

"We know you'll get it, Hermione." She smiled at Harry's reassurance.

The lights went out abruptly, and then an odd electrical sound occurred. Hermione glanced around in the dark. "Are we still moving?" she asked.

"I don't think so," Harry answered. "I think the power's been lost."

"What? But why?" Ron wondered. He was not used to electricity, and so had no idea why it would go out.

"There's a huge storm going on, remember? It's all right, we won't be stuck in here forever, but it might take a while for the power to come back on." Harry lit his wand.

"Put that away, Harry, you'll get in trouble again!" Hermione hissed.

"No, I turned seventeen at the end of July, remember? I can do almost whatever I want."

"And I've been of age since March," added Ron.

"Well then, why don't you two just Apparate out of here and bring the boxes to my room?" Hermione asked irritably.

"We're not allowed to Apparate where there might be Muggles around unless it's an emergency. A maid could be in your room. Anyway, do you think we'd just leave you here?"

Hermione looked between them. "No, Ron, not really. But we've all been changing, you know. People do that sometimes."

"Change?" Harry clarified.

"Yes, what else could I have meant?"

In the silence that fell over them, they all sat on the floor in the light of Harry's wand. Hermione refrained from pointing out that Ron could light his as well, and that if she was of age, she would do a spell to light the elevator, and they wouldn't need to maintain it on their wands.

"How long will we be in here?" asked Ron.

"Not more than a few hours. If they can't get the power back soon, they'll check to see if anyone's in here," said Hermione. She patted his shoulder. "Trust us, will you? We won't be dying in here."

Ron sighed. "I guess."

Harry had not said a word through all this. He was staring at the light on the end of his wand as though it held the secrets to the universe. He noticed Hermione and Ron looking at him, and at last he spoke. "How long do you think I'm going to have to wait?"

"Wait for what, Harry?" Hermione prompted. He looked directly at her, his expression a mix of sorrow and anger and resignation.

"To find out who I'm going to kill this year."

Ron looked just as shocked as Hermione felt. "You haven't killed anyone, Harry. You're not going to kill anyone."

"Sure I have, Ron. I've killed my parents, Sirius-"

"Those weren't your fault, Harry! How many times do you have to be told?"

"They were my fault, and none of you can see it! They're all dead because of me!"

"They were just protecting you, Harry, there's nothing wrong with that. They all loved you."

"Stop it, Hermione! Do you think that makes it any better? Because it doesn't! It just makes it worse! If they had not been protecting me, they would be alive today."

Hermione shook her head sadly. "That doesn't make it your fault."

"You know how important you are to the wizarding world, Harry. You'll be the one to take Voldemort down. They all know how much we'll need you in the final battle. That's why they all die for you." Ron seemed to realize his mistake just after saying it.

"Right, they die for me because I might save the world, and that makes it all fine to you! It's all right if all the people I love die, as long as I'm still around! Well, I've got news for you. I might not even be the winner! Either Voldemort kills me, or I'll kill him, that's what that prophecy said. Yeah, that's right, gape at me! Doomed to be either a murderer or dead! But I'm the hero of the wizarding world, so that makes it all just peachy!"

"Harry, please don't do this. Don't blame yourself. You couldn't help who you are any more than we could." Hermione was trying to convince herself as much as Harry.

"Well, tell me," Harry continued, ignoring her, "Do you think it was all right for Dennis Creevey to die trying to protect me? He shouldn't even have been there! I let him come along when I found him following us because I thought I would be able to protect him, but I couldn't watch him the whole time. He didn't know what he was doing. Now he's dead. He was only thirteen."

"We think it's awful too, Harry," said Hermione. "But it's not your fault."

"You know Colin hasn't taken a single picture since that day? Not one! You want to know how I found out? I ran into him in Diagon Alley that day when I was alone, and he didn't have his camera. He told me he didn't need it anymore." Angrily, Harry turned away, and began pacing the limited space of the elevator.

Hermione began to realize that no matter what they said, Harry would react the same way. She kept quiet, going back to what he had said about the prophecy. He had never told them what it said, and so they assumed that he didn't know. But now she understood why he had kept it to himself.

Her own problems, her plan, flew out of her mind for the time they were stuck in the elevator. Harry was having much bigger things happen to him. Poor Harry. She imagined that if she had to go through all that, she would most likely have killed herself by now. That thought depressed her so much that she forgot to notice when the electricity came back.


"Come in," Hermione called in response to the knock on her door. It opened, admitting a very nervous Ron. "Hello."

"Hi." He came in and sat on the bed that Ginny occupied during the night. "Where's Ginny?"

"She went out a while ago. Did you want to see her?"

"No. Actually, I wanted her to be gone. I want to talk to you about yesterday."

She exhaled sharply. "I was trying to avoid the subject all day."

"I noticed." Ron did not look at her. He stared at the floor, his hands twisting and constantly shifting position. "You didn't know, did you? About the prophecy?"

"No, of course not. Harry didn't tell anyone, I don't think. And would he tell me and not you?" She knew her expression waited for him to answer.

He looked up briefly, then shook his head. "I guess not. Well -- maybe. He isn't the same anymore."

"None of us are," she said quietly. "But if you were Harry, wouldn't you feel the same way? I mean, think of all the things he's been through."

"We've been through a lot ourselves."

"But not nearly as much as him. And I doubt he'll ever stop blaming himself for…"

"Man," Ron breathed. "I don't I could live through that." Neither had anything more to say. Hermione joined her friend in staring intently at the floor.

The next time the door opened, there was no knock. Harry simply let himself in. He sat himself next to Hermione, and for a moment the three of them were silent. Harry sighed suddenly, and broke the spell.

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you guys. I know you only want to help, and none of it's your fault anyway. It's just that when I start thinking about all that, I lose control. But that doesn't give me an excuse to take it out on you. You're my best friends."

Ron and Hermione exchanged somewhat guilty looks. "It's all right, Harry. I mean, you're right that you shouldn't yell at us," Hermione said, "but we understand. We forgive you. Right?"

"Yeah. No problem, mate. We're not going to hold a grudge or anything because of one shouting session."

"What about a hundred?" Harry asked glumly.

"That too." Ron grinned, Hermione thought inappropriately, but Harry smiled back. "You were my first real friend, Harry. I'm not going to give up on you that easily." He stood, clapping Harry on the back as he passed him. "I'm going to see if there's anything to eat around here. Anyone want to join me?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. Harry went after Ron, the two of them racing to get to the food first. Hermione turned back to what she had been about to do when Ron had come in. The boxes that were sent by her request lay ready for opening on the floor. With a quick motion of her wand, she had the tops off, the contents revealed.

The letters were somewhat identical. "I'm so glad you're finally taking an interest in this kind of thing. It's about time, I'd say. I included everything I could think of that would be useful. Can't wait to see you on the first day of school!" Hermione scanned them and set them aside. She half smiled as she looked through the goods. Stacks of magazines, bags of makeup, spell books, and even a few articles of clothing. She assumed they were fashionable castoffs.

She made a mental note to thank Parvati and Lavender the next time she saw them. "Won't everyone be surprised," she muttered, taking the first book out and settling down for some in-depth reading.


There were, of course, spells for basic makeup application, but there was something about hand applied cosmetics that interested Hermione. Therefore, she was standing in front of the mirror with eyeliner in hand when the knocking started.

"Hermione, are you going to get out of the bathroom? I need to shower before we go out for dinner." Ginny was the kind of girl who took grooming to heart. Hermione could have asked her for help, but she didn't want anyone to know who might be inclined to tell Ron or Harry.

"Again? You took one a few hours ago."

"I know, but it's really hot today. I'm sweaty and gross now."

"It's not that hot."

"Well, I'm exceptionally hot blooded."

"I don't doubt that. Hold on a few minutes." She cleaned what makeup she had applied off her face. The sink ran black with mascara and eyeliner. She turned up the faucet to wash it away. Taking the pencils and bottles into her hands, she opened the door. "How impatient could you be, Ginny, if you were making an effort?"

"Extremely, I imagine. There is a limited time until dinner, and I have things to do."

"We have three hours."

"Exactly! There is not enough time in the day, let me tell you." She leaned down to remove a towel from beneath the sink.

"I would rather you didn't," Hermione replied. Ginny made a face at her and closed the door. Smirking, Hermione took the opportunity of being pseudo-alone to look through her wardrobe. She had bought a fair amount of new things. After all, what was the point of doing something drastic if there is no shopping involved? But she did not want to throw away all her old clothes. She altered two shirts and a skirt before Ginny called her from the bathroom.

"Hermione, come in for a minute!"

"I don't particularly wish to see you naked!" Hermione called back.

"I've got a robe on!"

Sighing, Hermione got up, stashing her secret. She entered the bathroom to find Ginny in front of the mirror, doing something to her hair. "Did you want to ask something?"

"Just want to talk. It's been a while since we got a chance to be alone, without the boys. Not since the day you got stuck in that elevator, anyway." She smoothed down a lock of hair and picked up another. "There are things I've been wanting to ask you."

"If it's about trying to get me to tell my secret, then I'm leaving now." Ginny did not know what had transpired in the elevator. Combine that with Hermione's new project and the Draco Malfoy debacle, she had three secrets from Ginny.

"No, nothing like that. I have something I want to tell you, actually." She glanced at Hermione as she moved on to the other side of her head. "Well, maybe not yet. Hey, do you want to go out tonight, just you and me? This is the last night before we go back to Hogwarts, and we'll be spending a lot of time apart."

Hermione smiled. "That sounds nice, Ginny. Sure. I'll need some time to get ready, though. If we're going to have a girls' night out, then we have to do it right."

"I agree to extreme proportions. We'll talk then." Ginny flashed her white teeth before turning and flipping her hair over her shoulders. "Time for makeup."

Hermione left then, picturing what she should wear that would not give her away before time. Something flattering, but simple, was her best bet. She extracted a lacy black skirt of a respectable length, and a red tank top with some ruffle detail. Nothing elaborate or drastic. Black sandals with a slight heel, no jewelry, wand-applied makeup. She allowed herself red lipstick a few shades darker than her shirt.

Before Ginny emerged, an expected knock came at the door. Hermione answered it first with her voice. "Just a minute!" she said, closing her trunk on all the clothes she did not want the others to see. Then, she opened the door, admitting Harry and Ron.

"Whoa, where did all your hair go?" Ron asked.

"Believe me, it's still there," responded Hermione. She had twisted it up into a bun, not wanting to spend much time on it. Ron seemed to be looking her up and down. "What?"

He started. "What? Oh. Nothing. Is that outfit new?"

"Well, the skirt is. I've been waiting for a special occasion."

"And this occasion is special?" Harry said. "Well, are you about ready to go? And where's Ginny?"

"Ginny is in the bathroom," Ginny herself answered. "But she's almost ready."

The others laughed. "Third person. Always humorous," said Harry, perhaps with a bit of sarcasm. Hermione was having a hard time deciding whether to believe when Harry was happy. She supposed that was unfair, but given the summer of their fifth year, he might start yelling at them all at any moment.

Ginny came out of the bathroom at last, dressed in a black halter top, a brown miniskirt, and black beaded shoes. Her hair was parted on the side, showing curls placed at intervals among straight, smooth locks. Just as Ron appeared to be staring at Hermione, Harry stared at Ginny.

"Well, let's not everyone stare at once," Ginny good-naturedly jibed. Both of the boys cleared their throats. "Oh by the way, Harry, Ron…"

"Ginny and I are going out. Alone," Hermione supplied.

"Yes. We're having a girl's night," said Ginny. "Sorry, but we kind of need it. We'll see you later."

"Not too much later," Ron warned.

"Fine." Ginny rolled her eyes at her brother. "I promise I'll get her home by curfew."

Hermione could not help joining in Ginny's laughter. "Bye, you two," she said. She and Ginny linked arms and left their room. "Make sure you close up the room when you decide to leave," she yelled down the hall.

They went to an expensive restaurant, even going as far as to order some red wine. It was not a particularly strong wine, but still alcohol. Hermione had one glass only, but Ginny had about three. "I've had it before. I can handle three glasses easily."

"If you say so." Hermione took a delicate bite of her dessert. "Ah, I love panna cotta."

"That's Italian, isn't it?"

"Of course."

"Personally, I prefer French desserts. Chocolate mousse, for example." She took another mouthful. "Mm. Dessert heaven."

"What was it that you wanted to tell me before?" asked Hermione.

Ginny looked up. "Well- oh, that. Wait… hmph. I guess it wasn't important. I can't remember now."

Hermione raised her eyebrows, but let it go. She put out money on the table for the check and tip. She caught Ginny looking at the cash worriedly. "What is it?"

"Oh… I don't really have any Muggle money."

Hermione grinned. "Don't worry about it. You can buy me something if you feel you need to pay me back."

Ginny looked up with a smile. "All right. Let's go shopping."

Almost half an hour later, they entered a clothing store owned by a witch. "Good evening, ladies. May I help you?" the clerk asked.

"Not yet, but thank you," Ginny answered. The clerk smiled and went back to her work. Ginny and Hermione began to browse the racks. "This store has some great stuff. The best thing is the way they're charmed. They come in every color."

"I'm sure you mean that in a magical way," said Hermione.

"Of course I do. You can buy one article of clothing and it will change to any color. You just have to remember to change it before you put it on. Here, go try on these." Hermione was handed a thick stack of clothes, then hustled into the dressing room, where she tried on outfit after outfit and modeled them for Ginny.

"Okay," Hermione said exhaustedly. She had on a dress that was sold in red. "This is the last one, and I will not try on anything else." She pushed the door open, and stepped out.

"Wow, Hermione. This is the one," Ginny breathed. "Come look in the mirror."

When she did, the mirror agreed with Ginny. Hermione did as well, thinking that it was incredibly flattering on her, and matched the new look she was planning to delve into. It had a neckline to expose something she did not even know she had, straps that crossed in the back, and a beautifully elegant length. "Where would I wear this, though?"

"It doesn't matter. The point isn't to have an occasion to wear it. It's to have it. The sexy black dress, you know? But it looks magnificent on you in red. Go change, and we'll buy it," instructed Ginny.

The dress was rung up at the register, three galleons and eight sickles, and Ginny paid. They thanked the clerk and left, both with satisfied smiles. "Well, I'm almost ready to get back," Hermione said. "What about you?"

"Let's just walk a bit." A silent pause happened for a few blocks. "So, you're Head Girl, and none of us are surprised."

"Ginny, stop it- well, I suppose you're right."

Ginny laughed. "Don't be upset, Hermione. This is what you've been working for your entire life. We're all proud of you, you know."

Hermione looked up. Ginny smiled at her caringly. "You three are the best friends I could have asked for."

"What can I say?" Ginny shrugged. "We are natural born friends. But you do your fair share as well. No need to give us all the credit."

"Hey, girls. Lovely night, isn't it?" a rather sketchy voice asked them. They looked back at the suspicious young man behind them, then turned again, putting their backs to him. He hiccupped.

"We've just been hit on by a drunk old man. Ick," Ginny murmured, her mouth next to Hermione's ear. They quickened their pace slightly. "But we shouldn't worry or anything. There are people around, and we have our wands if we need them."

Hermione nodded. "Of course. Still, I agree with you when you say 'ick'."

The sketchy man situation did not follow them down the street. Soon, their walk led them back to the hotel. They left the night behind them in favor of comfortable mattresses, and prepared themselves for another year at the school where they nearly got themselves killed every year.

This year, Hermione would be different if nothing else was. Oh yes, she thought as she fell asleep. It's high time for a change.

…TBC…

A/N again: Next chapter, or possibly the one after… well, in the future there will be other pov's than Hermione's. Review, please, it inspires me to get writing.