Hermione was, at that moment, clutching her stomach in disbelief as the Knight Bus bounced and lurched at terrifying speeds round corners, her eyes tightly shut. Stan, the conductor seemed to find her state terribly amusing, and if Hermione could be sure that she wouldn't lose the contents of her stomach by moving, she would've instantly given the hapless conductor something else to squawk about.

"Aye up – Leaky Cauldron!" Stan gripped her shoulder and shook it, making her wince and open her eyes, thankful the bus had finally stopped.

"Thanks," she muttered, getting to her feet gingerly. Stan picked up her trunk as if it was empty and carried it for her. "Well, here goes nothing," she murmured to herself, dragging her trunk along the floor. She pushed the heavy door of the pub open, greeted at once by a cosy, comforting smell of Firewhisky and Butterbeer. She made her way to where she could see Tom, the barman.

"Any rooms Tom?" Straight to the point as always.

"Nice to see you Miss… Granger is it?" Tom paused as Hermione nodded. "I reckon you'll find a room on the first floor. Second left." He smiled.

"Thank you." Hermione replied simply, averting her gaze and walking towards the stairs.

"Anything for one of Harry Potter's friends! Say, will he be joining you?" Tom added hopefully.

"No!" She reacted rather sharply and took a breath. "I mean, no. Harry's, er Harry's busy…"

Tom nodded, rather bemused at her reaction. "Are you all right love?" He asked, peering at her concernedly.

Hermione's face softened at his obvious concern. "I'm fine Tom, really. Just – please, don't tell Harry I'm here. If he asks?"

"Why, yes love, if that's what you want… yes."

Satisfied, Hermione made her way up the stairs to her new room. She sighed with relief when she dropped her trunk onto the ground and flopped down on the bed. That ride on the Knight Bus had left her exhausted and queasy. As she lay there, she planned what she would do. I need somewhere to stay, somewhere remote where he can't find me. Of course – Châteaux and Shacks! But first, I'm going to need a serious nap…

While Hermione was enjoying her nap, a black haired lad was frantically trying to track her down.

"Chocolate Frogs!" He yelled at the stone gargoyles that led to Dumbledore's study. He could've sworn they were secretly smiling in amusement at his frustration.

"Let me in!" He demanded, pounding his fists against the stone. But they just stared back at him unrelenting.

"Sherbet Lemon!"

"Jelly slugs!"

"Canary Creams!" Instantly the gargoyles sprang apart. "Finally…" Harry sighed in relief as the stairs twisted slowly up to the headmaster's study.

"Aah Harry," The older man chuckled, seemingly oblivious to the fever that Harry seemed to be whipped up in. "You seem out of breath. Have a seat."

Harry rolled his eyes, annoyed at how laidback his headmaster could appear. He bit his lip and obeyed, sinking into a plush, chintz armchair.

"Sherbet Lemon?"

"No thanks."

"Oh, come now Harry, they're really quite nice… why I can't persuade Minerva that the Muggles do create some good things I don't know… are you sure you don't want one?"

Headmaster –"

"Oh forgive me Harry. You want to talk to me about something. Of course, an old man's ramblings like mine do nothing for – sorry Harry. What is the matter?"

"It's Hermione – she's gone missing! Sir you have to do something – she's just gone!"

"My dear Harry, I'm sure you must be mistaken, a girl like Miss Gr-"

"Sir she's gone! Ginny saw her go! But no one knows where she's gone! You have to get her back!"

"Miss Granger is 17, I presume?"

"Yes."

"Then I'm afraid, Mr Potter, there's nothing we can do. Miss Granger is an adult witch now Harry, and if she has chosen to leave then you and I must respect her decision."

"But Sir – you have to do something!"

"I can do nothing Harry. Miss Granger has reached the age of maturity in the wizarding world. I'm sorry."

The portrait door slammed, causing many Gryffindors inside to jump. Harry Potter entered, a scowl on his face. He crashed down on a sofa next to his best friend.

"What's up with you? You look like you've just seen Malfoy's father's become Minister of Magic!"

"Shut it Ron I'm not in the mood."

"Bloody hell mate! What's going on?"

"Hermione." He growled, as if that explained everything.

Ron's face cleared. "Ohhh. A lover's tiff. Might've guessed. Mate just order her something nice from Hogsmeade. She'll come round. Or you can fly up to her dormitory and apologise…" He put on a high pitched voice and made kissing noises: "Oh Hermione, darling, I'm so sorryyy-"

"Cut it out Ron! It's not like that. She's left me ok? She's left me!" Harry shouted, hauling himself up from the sofa and stomping off towards the staircase that led to the boys' dormitories.

Bemused, Ron shrugged and chuckled, catching the withering look on his sister's face. "Was it something I said?" He asked, wriggling his hand in a half screwed up bag of Bertie Botts' Every Flavour Beans.