Author's notes: Well, a pretty decent level of interest apparently. Nice that you guys have found this story worth checking out at the very least and to those reviewers thank you for your kind words and I do hope this little work here lives up to your expectations. I hadn't planned on uploading this second chapter so soon, of course I hadn't planned on publishing at all yet so I guess it doesn't matter really, but I really felt I should get the second chapter to give you guys a little hint of how things are going to go once we get into the main body of the story. That first chapter was really more of a prologue than almost anything else and this one is relatively short.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. *shrugs*

Here's chapter two of A Fair Life, hope you all enjoy.

A Fair Life

Hello, 1994

by,

Rtnwriter

Green eyes snapped open as a young teen sucked in a deep, panicked breath. He sat up sharply in the middle of his large, four poster bed, head swinging wildly back and forth, yet his eyes taking in nothing but the closed curtains that surrounded him for several moments.

He spun in the bed, scrabbling around frantically until he suddenly lunged to the side and reached through the curtains, snatching his wand from the nightstand with a muttered curse.

"Why the bloody hell was my wand out there?" he muttered as he silently lit the tip, instantly brightening the interior of his bed. In the months that they'd spent on the run, he, Ron, and Hermione had all taken to keeping their wands close to hand. A week ago he would never have left his wand that far out of his reach.

"But it's not a week ago, is it?" he said, elation flooding through him. He brandished his wand, quickly casting a charm to show him the time and the date.

October 31st, 1994. 4:45 a.m.

"It's almost four years ago!"

Banishing the hovering words and numbers before him, Harry leaped out of bed, practically tearing down the hangings in his haste. He was in the dorms in Gryffindor Tower. He hadn't seen it in well over a year, but he was immediately struck with a sense of familiarity. Ron's snoring, coming from the bed next to his, was easily identifiable amongst the other sounds caused by a room full of sleeping teens.

Harry paused, his eyes lingering on the bed that he knew contained the first friend he'd ever made his own age. He honestly wasn't sure what to think of Ronald Weasley at this particular point in time. He never came back, he thought. He left us during the hunt and he never came back. That should have been it, but there were lingering doubts. Maybe Ron couldn't come back for one reason or another. Maybe he'd been captured by the Snatchers. Whatever happened, Harry knew that Ron left, and that was the last they'd seen of him. He and Hermione had carried on the search on their own.

He shook his head suddenly in an attempt to banish those thoughts. I've more important things to be worrying about right now, he thought before he turned and rushed silently across the dorm to the window and looked out, cursing quietly under his breath when he realized that they faced the wrong direction. Turning, he moved over to the door and slipped out into the hall, moving quickly down the stairs to the Common Room. Once his foot left the last step he was off like a shot to the tall windows on the far side and peered out into the early morning gloom.

He could just make out the lanterns on the ship that was floating on the placid surface of the Black Lake and a giant carriage sitting on the grounds a ways back from the lake shore.

"It's real," he gasped. "It wasn't a dream, that really happened." His mind drifted over his memories. Fourth year. Fifth Year. Sixth. The Hunt… "There's no way I dreamed or imagined nearly four years worth of memories," he muttered. "I've really gone back in time, again."

A few moments later his eyes suddenly widened and he swung away from the window toward the rest of the room and, more importantly, the fire burning in the fireplace across the room. With that warm light now on him he looked down, rapidly patting his chest several times with both hands.

"I'm still a guy. That's good... right? Doesn't that mean I'm not… wait… Reaper said I'd encounter an object… oh shiiiit… that's right, fourth year. Damn Goblet of Fire. Seriously? I can't, you know, avoid the whole deadly tournament and trap at the end of the year?" he whined to the empty room.

"Harry?"

He froze, eyes sliding shut as a flood of memories that had largely been kept at bay in… that other place, the 'Waystation' as the Reaper had called it, suddenly assailed him. It was almost fitting, that the first person he would actually see after coming back would be her.

When did I see her last? he wondered, eyes still closed and praying that if he didn't respond then maybe she really wouldn't be there. It'd been during the battle, he thought. He'd caught glimpses of her through the smoke and the chaos. Graceful as she'd ever been, spinning and ducking her way through a deadly web of brightly colored curses and hexes as she returned fire with a brutal efficiency and creativity. He thought that the very last glimpse he'd had of her before he'd crossed wands with Voldemort had been her squaring off against Bellatrix Lestrange.

That mad bitch had taunted her, toyed with her, and that had been her mistake. Hermione Granger didn't waste words responding to the taunts. She didn't waste time playing games. She struck hard and fast, a veritable rain of spells flying from her wand to fall upon the demented Death Eater. He didn't see the end of the fight, caught up in his own struggle, but he had every faith that Hermione, his Hermione, would have come out on top.

"Harry? Are you okay?"

Her voice was closer now and he shuddered, unwilling or unable to open his eyes, he honestly wasn't sure which anymore. He wanted to see her. Desperately. But he wasn't certain he'd be able to hide how he felt, and he knew that if the Reaper was right, if he wasn't just mad and had dreamed the whole thing, he knew he wouldn't see those feelings returned and that would cut him deeply.

A cool hand touched his bare shoulder and a moment later she let out a startled squeak as his body moved almost without him willing it, his arms coming up to wrap around her as he pulled her into a bone crushing embrace.

"It's okay," she whispered in his ear, his face buried in her long, unruly curls."Whatever it is, Harry, it's okay. You're okay."

He didn't know how long they stood there but the entire time she kept up a constant stream of soothing words in his ear, her own arms wrapped around him, one hand stroking the back of his neck.

"Sorry," he muttered, finally loosening his grip on her and pulling back. When his eyes opened, he had himself under much better control and he was reasonably certain that he'd been able to hold back the true feelings that he held for the witch in front of him.

That first sight of her was like a blow to his chest. Gods, she looks so young! he couldn't help but think right before mentally slapping himself. Of course she does, she is young, not that either of you had managed to get old in the first place… but still, she's only fifteen now.

"It's fine," she assured him, giving him a small smile that just revealed her slightly larger front teeth. Right, she shrinks them a bit this year, he remembered.

Her skin still held remnants of her summer tan, her brown hair flecked with blond highlights from her time spent in the sun. It was the eyes that drew him in however. Warm cinnamon brown eyes that radiated care and concern and, now that he knew to look for it, love. He could see the love she felt for him and knowing why things had never progressed, or at least a version of why… he honestly couldn't say that he was entirely against the idea of being a girl anymore. Not if it helped him keep this wonderful witch by his side. Her side?

Harry shook his head. He was male at the moment, so he'd continue to think of himself that way. Until he learned otherwise. Course, that should be in about fifteen hours or so.

"What is it?" she asked, drawing his attention out of his thoughts and back to her. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head again. "Nothing," he croaked and then cleared his throat. "Sorry. It's nothing, really," he said again and she immediately frowned.

"It's not nothing, Harry," she admonished him. "Not that I'm complaining, but you've never initiated physical contact with someone like this before. So I can reasonably guess that something really upset you for you to actively seek out comfort that way."

He fidgeted for a moment, trying to decide what to tell her. What could he tell her. As far as he knew horrible things would happen if he told her the truth, that is if what he thought was happening was real. Okay, that's just thinking your way in circles, he thought. For now, assume it's true until you have proof otherwise, just to be on the safe side.

So if he couldn't tell her about dying and his Reaper and everything else… he was left with revealing he had knowledge of the future. Knowledge that he had no way to explain to her without her probably thinking he was crazy.

"Harry?"

He jumped at the sound of her voice again and his eyes flicked to her, focusing on her to the exclusion of everything else.

"I just… I had a weird dream," he finally said.

She paled, looking suddenly quite frightened. "Was it about…" She trailed off, eyeing him questioningly for a moment as he tried to figure out what she was talking about when it suddenly clicked. Fourth year was when he first started getting those visions of the Dark Tosser!

"Oh! No, nothing like that," he said with a pronounced wince, remembering how frightened she'd been when he'd told her and Ron about the vision he'd had during the summer. "No, this wasn't scary and painful like that was… it was… well, kind of unsettling, but confusing more than anything else really."

"It must have been for you to come down here like that," she said in a much calmer tone, a slight twitching at the corners of her full lips, as if she were trying not to smirk.

He gave her a blank look, easily mirroring the blank he was mentally drawing as he tried to figure out her meaning when she tilted her head down slightly, her eyes traveling down his front.

His eyes followed the path hers took and he glanced down at his body, realizing, belatedly, that he'd been in such a rush after waking up that he was only wearing a pair of boxers and a Gryffindor red tank top, exposing quite a bit more of his body than he was usually comfortable with.

In seconds flat he was blushing furiously and he started edging carefully toward the stairs.

"Uh… yeah I-I'm just gonna g-go… yeah."

Hermione burst out laughing when he suddenly bolted for the stairs, pelting up them as fast as he could and nearly flying into his dorm, remembering only at the last second not to slam the door shut. In the darkness of the dorm he quietly berated himself for his stunning lack of thought and took his time gathering together his clothes for the day, since it was highly unlikely that he'd be able to get back to sleep at this point.

By the time he made his way back downstairs, dressed in his school uniform, minus his robes, he found Hermione sitting on the small sofa near the fireplace, still giggling into her hand.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," he growled, but he couldn't maintain even a pretense of anger as he was certain that her laughter was easily the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard.

Yeah, you're done for, Potter.

He sighed and dropped heavily onto the sofa beside her, poking her repeatedly in the side with one finger as she giggled and attempted to squirm her way out of his reach.

Finally, they settled and sat back, leaning against each other in that easy manner that Harry had never really thought much on before but now noticed as if there were glaring arrows pointing it out to him. It'd taken so long, last time around, for him to realize what it was that he felt for her. He guessed he had an excuse, having never been shown an honest, loving relationship, or any kind of real affection, when he was growing up.

Still, he'd felt monumentally stupid when it had struck him one day in his sixth year that he was completely in love with his best friend and it appeared as if there was absolutely nothing that he could do about it. And if the Reaper was to be believed, there never had been. Not until now.

"So, what was this disturbing dream about?" she asked after several minutes of companionable silence had ticked past them. Harry groaned and slumped down slightly in his spot so he could rest his head on her shoulder, to which she giggled again.

"Do I have to?" he whined.

"Yes, Harry. You can't honestly imagine that I'm going to let my best friend suffer without even trying to help, can you?"

"What help can you offer?" he asked, honestly curious. "I mean, it happened in my head, and it's over now, so what difference does it make?"

"Talking about it might help make it seem less… strange, I guess, since you said it wasn't scary per se. And sharing a burden always makes it lighter and easier to carry."

"Not exactly a burden," he mumbled, wondering what he could possibly say. She was right, there was no way she wouldn't try to help, and if he said nothing she would be hurt, as well as she'd continue to hound him until he spilled his guts. He let out a gusty sigh.

"It was just… strange," he said. "I don't really know how else to describe it." Maybe this is the first opportunity? A chance to try and slip her some information without actually telling her anything? Oh well… nothing to do but try.

"I dreamed I was in an office."

"An office?" She sounded confused. "What's so disturbing about an office?"

"It wasn't the office, it's what was said. I can't really say what though."

"So you were talking to someone in an office but you don't know what was said?"

He shrugged. "Eh… close enough, I guess. There was this giant guy, like Hagrid sized almost, on the other side of this big desk dressed in an entirely white suit and... the whole thing was really weird, and kind of surreal, but then he said…" There he trailed off, extremely unsure about the next bit that he intended to say.

"What is it, Harry?"

He sighed again and closed his eyes, taking the cowards way out as he didn't feel he wanted to see her expression. "He told me I was actually a girl."

They were silent for several long heartbeats before Hermione muttered to herself, so quietly that he almost didn't hear it, but he did hear it, and a shock ran through his entire being as her words echoed in his mind:

"If only."

"What was that?" he asked, attempting to keep his tone casual. He hadn't imagined that. There had been a note of longing in her voice!

"Nothing really," she replied. "I'd imagine that would be very disconcerting. Wait… is that why you were patting your chest?"

Crap, I forgot about that.

"Ugh… yeah. Merlin, I feel stupid. It just felt so real for a moment. It all clicked in my head and suddenly I had to check that I hadn't grown anything extra."

And she's back to giggling again, he thought as Hermione broke out into another fit of giggles at his admission.

"The idea of being a girl freaked you out that bad, huh?" she asked, her eyes dancing with mirth.

His brow furrowed into a frown as he thought over that question. If he were being honest with himself, he had been freaked out when the Reaper first told him. The more time that passed, however, the more comfortable he seemed to feel with the whole idea, and he wasn't sure quite how he felt about that realization.

"No. Just..." Harry shook his head, "I can't really describe it. It felt so real... If that actually happened though..." He trailed off into thoughtful silence. "I've been a boy my whole life, but who knows? Being a girl might be strange, or it might feel completely natural. I mean, half the population of the planet manages just fine, right?"

He shrugged one shoulder.

"I think what most bothered me was wondering how everyone would treat me. I've already seen people around here turn on me for no reason at all, who knows how they'd behave if something like that were to happen."

Yeah, Second year, Fourth year, Fifth year, Sixth year… I'm either villain or hero or attention seeking liar or an unstable lunatic, depending on their mood at the time.

He hadn't meant to get morose, but as he spoke his mood fell, remembering all the times the wizarding world had turned on him over the years. Hermione suddenly twisted around in her seat, her arms wrapping around him.

"In that, most unlikely scenario, in any scenario really, you know I'll always be here for you. You know that, right?" she whispered emphatically into his ear, her breath washing hot against his skin.

"Of everything there is in my life, Hermione, that is the one thing that I do know with absolute certainty," he replied. "I've never told you how much I appreciate how you've stood by me and everything you've done for me since we became friends. But that stops now. I've been thinking that I need to be a better friend and I intend to make sure that you know how important you are to me from now on."

"You don't need to do any-"

"Yes, I do, Hermione." Harry sat back after cutting her off to look at her, smiling softly as their eyes met. "You're amazing and you deserve to feel appreciated. You're my best friend and I love you. I'm done taking you, and everything you've done for me, for granted."

Hermione's cheeks held a light dusting of pink as she stared at him, her expression shifting through a range of emotions. Elated, surprised, curious, thoughtful.

Before she could say anything else he simply pulled her into a tighter hug, steeling his resolve for what he had planned next. When he pulled back from the hug, he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek, letting his lips linger for just a moment against her soft skin leaving the girl stunned and gaping at him as he settled in beside her to stare into the fire.

Nothing more was said between them for some time until the sky outside the windows began to turn gray with the coming dawn and Hermione quietly excused herself to head upstairs and get herself ready for the day.

#####

As Hermione made her way down the stairs to return to the Common Room, showered and dressed, with her book bag slung over one shoulder, she felt conflicted. Her morning had barely begun and already it had been an… unusual day, to say the least. She'd woken up early, even for her, and had been possessed by a relentless desire to head downstairs where she'd discovered her best friend, apparently in the grip of some kind of panic attack.

His behavior since then had been even more unusual, first grabbing onto her the way he had… she wasn't sure that he was telling her everything about this dream he'd had, but whatever it was must have really shaken him. Even after three years of concentrated effort to chip her way through his defenses, Harry still tensed whenever she hugged him, and in all that time he had never, not one time, initiated contact with another person like that. Even when he'd hugged Sirius the year before it had been more hesitant, almost fearful.

Not that she was complaining, though she still had to wonder just why she was so determined to get closer to someone she could never have. If anyone deserves some affection and honest friendship, it's Harry, she told herself as she reached the bottom stairs and stepped out into the Common Room. She shook aside her thoughts, and her feelings, and focused on the present, her eyes sweeping the room in search of one of the most important individuals in her world.

Harry was still sitting on the couch near the fire, or… sitting again, she should say, as he'd apparently gone up to grab his school robes and his bag before returning since she'd left earlier. His robes were folded over and draped across the back of the sofa, the sleeves of his uniform shirt were unbuttoned and rolled back to his elbows and he was hunched over a sheet of parchment laid out on the low table in front of him, quill in one hand and his eyes fixed firmly on his work as he wrote. A couple of sealed scrolls sat near his left hand, evidence that he'd been busy since she went upstairs. A splash of white caught her attention and she realized that Hedwig was perched on the opposite arm of the sofa, waiting patiently for her human to finish writing.

As she started walking toward him, he set aside his quill, cast a quick charm to dry the ink, and rolled up his current work, adding it to the other two before he turned to Hedwig and gestured for the gorgeous owl to come closer. She did so, fluttering over to land on the table in front of him and he started attaching the scrolls to her legs.

"This one goes to Madam Longbottom, this one to Gringotts, and this one goes to Madam Bones, understand girl?" he asked gently as he finished tying the last one. Hedwig barked, giving him a reproachful looking glare before she bent her head, checking for herself that her deliveries were secure.

"I'm sorry," he said, chuckling quietly. "I should know better by now than to doubt the Great Hedwig, shouldn't I?"

Hedwig barked again, bobbing her head up and down several times and he laughed louder, gently stroking the feathers on her chest for a moment before he offered her his arm. She stepped lightly onto his forearm, her talons never coming close to piercing his skin, and he carried her over to one of the windows.

"Have a good flight girl, and be safe," he told her after he opened the window. Hedwig responded by gently nipping at his fingers for a moment before she turned and spread her large wings, launching herself out into the October morning.

"Busy morning?" Hermione asked as he returned to the sofa where she'd sat to wait for him, a crooked grin on his lips as he pulled his sleeves down and buttoned the cuffs.

"A bit. Had some letters to send out." He glanced at the beat up old watch on his wrist for a second before he grabbed his robes and pulled them on. "Want to walk with me to the owlery before breakfast?" he asked.

She quirked a brow at him. "Hedwig just left," she pointed out even as she stood and gathered her bag from where she'd set it on the table. "Why go to the owlery?"

Harry grinned and pulled another letter from the inside pocket of his robes. "Need to send something to Snuffles, but Hedwig is way too noticeable. She'd be hurt and insulted if I used another owl though, so I sent her off with those others first, just so she doesn't get upset with me."

Hermione grinned. "Well, look at you, thinking ahead and everything," she teased.

"I'm working on it," he muttered and for a moment, barely the span of a heartbeat, Hermione could have sworn she saw something dark flash in his eyes. Before she could truly register it, whatever 'it' was, it vanished and he straightened up and offered her his arm, book bag slung over his opposite shoulder. "Well, m'lady, would you allow me the honor of your company for a visit to the owlery, and thence to breakfast?" he asked, grinning boyishly once again.

One brow arched at his mercurial shift in mood, Hermione slowly took the proffered arm, lightly looping her arm through his. "I would be delighted, kind Sir," she said, keeping her tone light as Harry led her from the Tower and out into the castle proper.

Something is different about you today, Harry Potter, she thought, eyeing him carefully as he struck up a conversation about the two foreign schools that had arrived the night before. Something is different, and you're trying to hide it, but I know you better than anyone: don't think I won't figure it out.

Once in the owlery, Harry quickly found a nondescript brown owl and attached his letter, sending the owl off in short order before leading her back down into the castle. As they neared the Grand Staircase after leaving the owlery he suddenly paused, mid-sentence, and turned to face her as they walked. "Hermione?" he asked.

"Hmmm? What is it, Harry?"

"I was just wondering, what were you doing down in the Common Room so early?"

"Oh." Hermione paused for a moment, frowning in thought. "I don't know. I woke up and… I just felt like you needed me." She shrugged, confused by the sensation that had gripped her but unable to properly explain it.

He seemed to consider that for a moment before he shrugged and let it go, launching instead into questioning her about her elective classes. She breathed a silent sigh of relief that he dropped the topic so easily and let herself get lost in explaining the intricacies of Arithmancy and Ancient Runes.

When they entered the Great Hall, Hermione started immediately toward the Gryffindor table, but came up short when Harry tugged her toward the Hufflepuffs instead. "Come on," he said.

"Harry?" she asked, slightly nervously as they neared the table.

"Don't worry," he responded, crooked grin firmly in place on his lips. "Hey, Cedric! Mind if we sit?"

Harry immediately directed her into a seat without waiting for the startled Hufflepuff to respond. He then dropped into the seat next to her, directly across from the older, Hufflepuff Seeker, where he then started filling both their plates.

"Hey! You guys have fresh fruit over here!" Harry exclaimed as he snagged a bowl filled with sliced peaches and dished up a spoonful for Hermione and himself. "Why don't we ever have fruit over at the Gryffindor table?"

That's a good question, Hermione thought as she looked down at a plate filled with her favorite breakfast items. She couldn't help but wonder just how he knew exactly what to serve her.

"Harry?" Cedric asked, waiting for Harry to look up, a questioning look on the fourth year's face as he chewed a peach slice. "Umm… not that it isn't great to see you, and you too, Hermione, but… what are you doing here?"

Harry lifted one finger to signal he would be a moment, chewed a few more times, then swallowed before he opened his mouth. "I'd think it would be fairly obvious, Cedric," he said, grinning brightly, "we're having breakfast."

"Well, yes, I can see that. But… why are you doing it here?"

Harry shrugged, "Figured I'd kill two birds with one spell. Have breakfast, and try to make some friends outside of my House." He speared another peach slice with his fork and gestured with the piece of fruit. "I've been thinking lately. It seems silly to me that I've been here for three years, and I'm honestly not certain that I could name everyone in my year group. There's three other Houses at this school and I've been limiting myself to only interacting regularly with the people from my House." He popped the fruit into his mouth and chewed quickly before he set his fork down and leaned forward, his arms crossed in front of him on the table as he swallowed.

"I'll be honest, Cedric. I… well I didn't exactly have a lot of friends before coming here. I had zero friends, actually. And while I love the friends I have in Gryffindor, I can't say that I have so many friends that I don't need any more. I don't feel like I can just do without making any new friends." He gestured with one hand, a motion that took in the entirety of the Hufflepuff Table, and all the students already seated there.

"All these other students here, and you, Hannah over there, Ernie, and Justin are the only Hufflepuffs I can remember directly interacting with outside of class. You I've spoken to only because of that Quidditch game last year. Hannah, Ernie, and Justin? Because of the Heir of Slytherin crap in second year. Personally, I'd like to get to know more people, and for better reasons."

Hermione wasn't the only one that was staring at her friend in shock. As he'd spoken the noise around them had dropped off as more and more people started to take note of the lions sitting amongst the badgers. She could practically see the wheels turning in the minds of every nearby student, and a pronounced flush on Hannah Abbott and Justin Finch-Fletchley's faces as well. Ernie didn't seem embarrassed at all by his behavior in second year, but she remembered Harry saying he'd apologized right after she'd been petrified, so maybe that explained his lack of reaction?

What is going on with you, Harry? she wondered as she watched her friend tuck into his breakfast with apparent relish, smiling broadly at everyone near them when he wasn't busy chewing.

Slowly, a new sound introduced itself and everyone's focus shifted, moving to Cedric as he started to laugh. It wasn't loud, or obnoxious, but the handsome 'Puff was very clearly, and genuinely, amused.

"You know, part of me wants to argue with you, that we should each sit at our own tables," he said, pointing at Harry with his own fork, "but honestly I can't find a single point to try to stand on. You're right. It is silly to just ignore the other Houses entirely. So, from me, welcome to Hufflepuff." He stretched out his right hand across the table and Harry's grin grew broader as he grasped the offered hand in a firm shake.

"Cheers, Ced," he replied.

"What just happened?" Hermione asked, bemused as around them everyone returned to their meals and conversations started back up.

"Weren't you paying attention, Hermione?" Harry asked. "We just made some new friends."

"Harry, what has gotten into you?" she asked, stuck somewhere between wanting to grin in the face of his good cheer, and worried over just how out of character he was behaving.

"It's Halloween," he reminded her. Any desire to smile vanished as she reminded herself just what today meant to her best friend. "My parents were murdered thirteen years ago today, and not one Halloween since has been a 'good' day for me." He took the last bite of food off of his plate and chewed silently, his eyes unfocused while Hermione found herself struggling to come up with something to say in the face of what, she felt, was a monumental blunder.

Before she could say anything though, and with many a nearby ear now focused on them again, Harry finished eating and set down his fork with a sigh. Turning to face her more fully, he continued, "with how the last three years have gone, can you honestly say that I can just sit back and expect today not to have some horrific event just waiting to happen to me? Now I get it, not everything that goes wrong on Halloween is directly related to me, but I still seem to get caught up in something every year, and I'm not going to hide behind some blinders that this year is going to be any different.

"I decided I need to make some changes in my life, and this is just the start of that," he said tapping the table. "Also, I decided that I'm done letting the fact that Halloween is a terrible day for me stop me from trying to enjoy my life. So I'm going to make some new friends today," Harry waved a hand slightly to indicate Cedric, "I'm going to try and build on some old friendships that could use a little more work," he winked at her, "and I'm going to try to have a little fun between now and whatever chaos I'm positive is going to happen tonight."

He pushed himself to his feet and grabbed his bag, setting one hand on her shoulder when she started to stand as well.

"Eat," he told her, smiling softly. "You haven't even touched your breakfast yet."

"But… where are you going?" she couldn't help but ask, and prayed she didn't sound as lost and out of sorts as she suddenly felt.

"Nowhere dramatic, I promise." He smiled and looked around the room for a moment before looking back at her again. "If I can, I'll meet you in the Library later, okay?"

Wordlessly she nodded and he gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"In the meantime, I'm gonna go see a Scot about a cat."

With that, completely unhelpful response, he stepped over the bench and walked out of the Great Hall, quickly catching up to Professor McGonagall, who was just leaving. Hermione watched as he fell into step beside their Head of House and engaged the stern professor in conversation as the two stepped out of the Hall and vanished from her view.