Some choose to believe that monsters are born as monsters. Others choose to believe that monsters are created as a result of the circumstances in their life. It is simply the age-old nurture versus nature debate. Yet, there really is nothing simple about it. For example, can you really blame someone for being born evil? It just doesn't seem fair, does it? But then, as you look around you, you say to hell with fairness. Evil is evil. On the other hand, if nurture was the answer, you start to question what could have possibly occurred in a person's life to make them turn out a certain way. And no matter what you think of, you can't find anything to justify it. After all, how do you justify evil?

I can't.

After everything I've seen...I just can't.

It was the last week of May. The spring holidays had come and gone, Fred and George Weasley had made their grand escape from the school leaving a giant swamp in the fifth floor corridor behind them, and the chaos in Hogwarts had reached its very highest point.

Which was just fine with everyone else. The only downside was having to hesitate outside of each corridor in fear that someone had released another dungbomb. But really, after the fifth time, one grew more accustomed to the smell.

The final Quidditch match, Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw, was to be taking place that morning, and Ron seemed to have gained some newfound optimism.

"I mean, I can't get any worse, can I?" he told Harry and Hermione grimly over breakfast. "Nothing to lose now, is there?"

They both smiled weakly at Ron.

"You just have to relax," Hermione said, patting his arm reassuringly. She immediately withdrew it, however, as she saw Ginny walking by staring at her with one eyebrow raised.

Ginny had not let go of the idea that Hermione fancied Ron. Since that particular incident during break, they could not go through an entire conversation without Ginny inserting some remark about it. According to her, Hermione was currently in her denial stage of attraction. But as Hermione kept reminding her, there was nothing to deny.

The thing that unnerved Hermione the most, however, was Ginny insisting that Ron had feelings for her. Because this was absolutely absurd.

Hermione sighed to herself. She'd just have to think of a way to convince Ginny that she didn't like Ron. Of course...there was one sure-fire to do that. She could just tell her who she did, in fact, fancy...

"What are you sighing about?"

Hermione looked up startled. Harry was looking at her questioningly, and she noticed that Ron was no longer seated at the table with them.

"Nothing, really," she replied. "Where did Ron go?"

Harry raised an eyebrow at her. "To warm up for the match. Didn't you notice him leave?"

"No, I was...I was thinking about something," she answered.

"Clearly," Harry said, amused, getting up from the table. "Well, come on then, let's head over to the pitch."

"You know," said Hermione as they made their way through the excitable crowd walking down to the stands, "I think Ron might do better without Fred and George around. They never exactly gave him a lot of confidence..."

"You think so?" he said, looking at her. "Well, I sure hope you're right, Hermione."

"If not...well, there's always next year, I suppose," Hermione stated.

Harry chuckled softly, making her heart beat a little faster. "Always the optimist, you are," he said. "But since when do you care so much about Quidditch, anyway?"

"It's not that I don't like Quidditch," she responded. "I just don't like when people treat it as if it were a life or death situation."

"Fair enough," Harry said. "But if you ever say the words 'wonky-faint' again, it will turn into a life or death situation."

"That was one time!" Hermione retorted indignantly, shoving Harry in the shoulder. "Anyway, I absolutely detest those wronski-feints. They're much too dangerous."

"Maybe...But what's life without a little risk?" Harry said, grinning.

She rolled her eyes. "I think you've taken enough risks in your life, thank you very much. Now enough talk, let's take our seats," she said, clutching his arm and dragging him to one of the uppermost rows.

Hermione hoped he wouldn't notice that she hadn't let go of his arm until they were actually seated. If he did, he didn't say anything about it. Then again, he had no idea that her stomach was doing somersaults the entire way up.

She watched as both teams made their way out onto the pitch. Despite their distance, Hermione could tell by the way Ron was carrying himself that his grim optimism from breakfast had evaporated quite quickly.

"And they're off!" boomed Lee Jordan's voice, as Madam Hooch blew her whistle.

It was only two minutes into the game when a Ravenclaw chaser made his way down to Ron's end of the pitch and managed to score a goal.

Harry and Hermione groaned loudly along with the rest of the Gryffindors.

However, before they could turn their attention back to the match, Hermione heard a hoarse voice whispering her and Harry's name behind them. The two looked around to see Hagrid's enormous bearded face sticking between the seats.

"Listen," he whispered, "can yeh come with me? Now? While everyone's watchin' the match?"

"Er...can't it wait, Hagrid?" asked Harry. "Till the match is over?"

Hermione gave Harry an exasperated look. Obviously it couldn't wait seeing as Hagrid had just squeezed himself through however many rows to get to them.

Harry soon realized this, however, and the two of them followed Hagrid down the stairs and across the long stretch of lawn that led to his cabin.

Much to Harry and Hermione's dismay, however, Hagrid was, in fact, leading them inside the Forbidden Forest.

"Hagrid?" said Harry, fighting his way through thickly knotted brambles. "Where are we going?"

"Bit further," said Hagrid over his shoulder.

Harry and Hermione shared a look before continuing their struggle through the many branches and thickets of thorn to keep up with him.

At one point, Hagrid had stopped so suddenly that Hermione had rammed right into his back and was knocked over backward. However, Harry caught her just before she hit the forest floor.

"You okay?" he asked, as he helped set her back on her feet.

Hermione could only nod wordlessly as she was too busy calming the butterflies that had erupted inside her stomach at Harry's touch.

In the end, this small incident, alone, had made the entire venture into the forest at least somewhat bearable. After all, it wasn't every day she had the chance to be so close to Harry. Even if for only a moment.

As it turned out, Hagrid had been hiding his giant half-brother Grawp in the Forbidden forest. This, of course, provided an explanation to many things, such as the scrapes and bruises on Hagrid's face, as well as the length of time it took him to return from his mission with the giants.

After finally exiting the forest, Harry and Hermione managed to meld themselves in with the rest of the crowd leaving the Quidditch pitch.

"I don't believe him," said Hermione in a very unsteady voice. "I don't believe him. I really don't believe him..."

"Calm down," said Harry.

"Calm down!" she said feverishly. "A giant! A giant in the forest! And we're supposed to give him English lessons! Always assuming, of course, we can get past the herd of murderous centaurs on the way in and out! I—don't—believe—him!"

"We haven't got to do anything yet!" Harry tried to reassure her in a quiet voice.

But Hermione wasn't reassured. On the contrary, this was just one more thing she had to worry about.

"Well, I mean, I'd already let in that one of Davies's, so I wasn't feeling that confident, but I dunno, when Bradley came toward me, just out of nowhere, I thought—you can do this! And I had about a second to decide which way to fly..."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione had spread their books out in the shade of a beech tree and sat down while Ron talked them through his first save of the match for what felt like the dozenth time.

It had been a pleasant surprise to find that Gryffindor had miraculously won the match, claiming the Quidditch cup and making Ron an instant hero.

Hermione felt truly happy for him as he babbled on excitedly to both her and Harry. After all, it wasn't everyday he had the chance to revel in his glory.

She could tell that Harry felt similarly, for he responded with the very same amount of enthusiasm each time Ron would go on about the match.

Pretty soon, however, Harry and Hermione were forced to tell Ron the unfortunate truth that they did not, in fact, watch him save any goals because they were too busy being introduced to Hagrid's giant half-brother. To which Ron responded quite simply:

"He's lost his mind."

Days had melted away rapidly, and Hermione woke up one morning to find that June had arrived. And with June came one thing and one thing only: OWLs.

For the next two weeks, she made a solemn promise that her top and only priority would be to study.

Standing outside Herbology one afternoon, Hermione could overhear Ernie Macmillan interrogating Harry and Ron about their study habits. She quickly rushed over to rescue them both from mental torment.

"How many hours d'you think you're doing a day?" she heard Ernie demand of Harry and Ron, a manic gleam in his eyes.

"I dunno," said Ron. "A few..."

"More or less than eight?"

"Less, I s'pose," said Ron, looking slightly alarmed.

"I'm doing eight," said Ernie, puffing out his chest. "Eight or nine—"

"Harry, Ron, let's go take our seats, shall we?" Hermione suggested, dragging them both away from Ernie.

"Can I just quit now?" Ron asked miserably as they sat down.

"Don't pay him any attention, you're going to do fine," she said, attempting to soothe him.

"Hermione, just last night you were going mental saying you were going to fail everything!" Ron exclaimed.

Hermione looked at him sternly. "I was having a mental breakdown. I thought we agreed we weren't going to bring that up again!" she hissed at him.

But Ron merely dropped his head to the table, with Harry patting his shoulder uncertainly.

Hermione could feel her nerves began to increase once again after Ron's proclamation. "You!" she barked at Harry.

Harry looked up startled. "What?" he asked, staggered.

"Why are you so calm about all of this?" she demanded.

"Er...I dunno..."

"Well," Hermione spluttered. "Stop it!"

"Okay..."

"What are you, made of stone?" she said, pushing him in the chest.

Harry had a bewildered expression on his face and looked helplessly at Ron who still had his head resting on the table in misery.

Hermione suddenly shook her head. "I-I'm sorry, Harry," she sighed heavily. "I think I'm going mad..."

She saw Harry relax a bit, realizing she had returned to normal. "Don't worry about it," he said.

But Hermione continued to have these random spurts of madness from time to time as the OWLs drew ever closer. She found herself snapping angrily at anyone for doing the simplest things that distracted her.

Poor Harry was on the end of many of these outbursts, for which she felt incredibly guilty. It wasn't his fault he was so distracting to her.

If he ran his hand through his hair too many times, she snapped at him. If he sat too close to her, she snapped at him. If he stared at her for more than three seconds, she snapped at him. And if he so much as even brushed against her, well, he was in for it, for sure.

She simply refused to allow her mind to wander down Harry Potter lane while the OWLs were so desperately close.

It was currently the eve of their first exam. The Charms theory and practical would be taking place the next day, and Hermione was in the Great Hall for lunch with her eyes glued to Achievements in Charming.

"Hermione, I know that's at least the third time you've read that, can't you give it a break?"

She looked up to see that Harry had just arrived and sat down across from her.

"I'm almost done with it!" she practically whined.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Have it your way, then."

"Harry..."

"Hmm?"

"Can you...that is to say...would it be alright if...you tested me on a couple of things?" she asked hesitantly, pushing her book gently towards him.

"No, absolutely not! Not again!"

"Please, Harry?" she begged.

"No."

"I promise I won't insult you this time!"

Harry gave her a pointed look that clearly said he didn't believe her.

"We can take it in turns if you want?" she suggested. "You test me, I test you?"

"I'm good, thank you."

"Harry..."

"Why don't you just ask Ron?" he said, annoyed.

"Ron's not here at the moment, is he?" she said, pushing her book even further towards him.

Harry groaned loudly. "Fine, alright, fine!"

Hermione beamed. "I stopped right there," she said, pointing to her spot in the book.

She had kept her promise and not insulted Harry once. However, just as she had been doing all week, Hermione had begun to grow agitated. She kept snatching the book back from him to check that she had gotten the answer completely right. At one point she grabbed the book so swiftly that she hit Harry hard on the nose with the sharp edge causing him to cry out in pain.

Hermione gasped, clapping both her hands to her mouth.

"Why don't you just do it yourself?" he said firmly, handing the book back to her, his eyes watering.

"Harry, I'm so sorry!"

"Don't worry about it," Harry said, still clearly irritated. "Just please don't ever ask me to help you study again. Not during OWLs week, anyway."

"Deal," she said immediately.

Once the OWLs had officially begun, Hermione was surprised how quickly the two weeks had flown by. She was also very pleased to note that no major mishaps had occurred during any of her examinations, thus far. There were a few minor ones, of course. She had clambered into the common room thoroughly bad tempered after her Ancient Runes exam, having mistranslated 'ehwaz'. Like a complete and utter idiot she had mixed it up with 'eihwaz' which meant 'defence'.

"Ah well," said Ron lazily after she had poured her heart out to both him and Harry, "that's only one mistake, isn't it, you'll still get—"

"Oh shut up," said Hermione angrily, "it could be the one mistake that makes the difference between a pass and a fail!"

There were only two exams left now: Astronomy and History of Magic. They had taken the Astronomy theory exam that morning and the practical was to take place that night.

However, things had taken a turn for the worst, it seemed.

As the fifth-years were rapidly scribbling away at their star charts, a sudden loud roar was heard, echoing from Hagrid's cabin.

Hermione's eyes immediately darted downwards, and after a moment a loud BANG sounded from the grounds. To her utter shock, Hermione saw thin beams of red light issuing from unknown wands at Hagrid's massive figure.

"No!" she cried, suddenly.

"My dear!" said Professor Tofty in a scandalized voice. "This is an examination!"

But Hermione, along with everyone else it seemed, had completely ignored him.

Everyone looked as the front doors of the castle opened. The sound of Professor McGonagall's voice could be heard crying out as her dark figure rushed to Hagrid's aid.

Then all at once, four stunners were thrown at her, right in the chest. Hermione heard herself scream out in horror as her most beloved professor landed hard on the ground.

She barely registered Hagrid's roars as he physically knocked down every ministry official present bar Umbridge. But as she attempted to throw one more stunner at him, the half-giant had already fled towards the distant gates and escaped.

There was a long minute's quivering silence as everyone stared open-mouthed at the grounds. Then Professor Tofty's voice said feebly, "Um...five minutes to go everybody..."

Hermione stared down at her star chart. It wasn't completely filled in. Three stars were still very much unlabeled.

But, for the first time in her life...she didn't care.

A/N: This is kind of a short chapter, but it covers a lot of things. I don't really want to call it a filler chapter cause that just makes it sound pointless, but that's kind of what it is. I'm thinking the next chapter will be the end of 5th year, and then 6th year will obviously follow, but more on that later...