They say there is a time and place for everything. Sometimes, you may want something so badly. But you know in your heart that at that moment, you simply cannot have it. Because there are other things that are just more important.

So you wait. You wait and wait, and you continue waiting until one day, the time and place are finally right.

"Harry, Harry, just the man I was hoping to see!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stopped abruptly on their way to the Gryffindor table as Professor Slughorn appeared in front of them, blocking their path.

"I was hoping to catch you before dinner! What do you say to a spot of supper tonight in my rooms instead?" Slughorn enquired, proceeding to name off quite an unpleasant list of fellow attendees, and making Hermione secretly grateful not to be in Harry's shoes at the moment. "And I hope very much that Miss Granger will favour me by coming, too."

Oh, splendid, Hermione thought sarcastically.

"I can't come, Professor," said Harry at once. "I've got a detention with Professor Snape."

It took all Hermione's self-control not to let out a loud groan. No, no, I am not dining with McLaggen and Zabini, alone!

"Oh dear!" said Slughorn, dramatically. "Well, I'll just have to have a word with Severus and explain the situation. Yes...I'll see you both later!"

Hermione waited until Slughorn was out of sight before turning to Harry. "Oh, I wish you could come," she said gloomily. "I don't want to go on my own!"

"I doubt you'll be alone, Ginny'll probably be invited," snapped Ron.

Hermione glanced guiltily at Ron. It had been quite obvious that Slughorn had blatantly ignored him. "It's just some stupid party, Ron," she said quietly to him later, as he continued to stare moodily at his plate. "I mean, honestly, if you really want to hang out with McLaggen and Zabini, I'm sure we could arrange something."

Ron looked as if he was trying awfully hard to fight back the amused smile that was forming on his face."Very funny."

"I'm glad I could humour you," she said brightly. "Now stop sulking and eat your peas."

Feeling someone's eyes on her, Hermione looked up across the table. And sure enough, she spotted Lavender Brown staring at her and Ron quite intently. Hermione flashed her a quick, awkward smile before returning to her dinner.

"You know, this isn't fair!" Hermione exclaimed, sitting on a chair near the fire and setting her bag down with a huff.

"How is it my fault?" Harry replied innocently. "First I had detention with Snape, and now I have Quidditch practice."

Hermione threw him a frosty look. "Oh, don't give me that. This is the third practice you've scheduled at the exact same time as Slughorn's little get-togethers. I mean, honestly, you're not being very subtle."

"Subtlety isn't really my main concern at the moment," Harry stated. "And anyway, if you were on the team you wouldn't have this problem. Look at Ginny."

Hermione snorted. "You act as if I actually had some sort of chance of getting on. I hate to break it to you, Harry, but my flying skills since this summer haven't improved much."

Harry chuckled softly. "You weren't that bad."

"I almost fell of the broom three times."

"Right...well, you're good at everything else," Harry shrugged.

Hermione suddenly felt warm all over and was trying very hard to look at anywhere but Harry. Which turned out to be somewhat difficult what with him leaning back on the couch with his legs resting on the table in front of him quite attractively.

Okay, how in the world is that attractive?

It's Harry, just go with it.

"Hey, Hermione...Harry."

Hermione looked up to see Ginny walking towards them. Out of the corner of her eye, she also noticed Harry immediately sit up much straighter and give her a small wave.

"Hi," he replied, somewhat eagerly.

"Have either of you seen Seamus?" Ginny asked conversationally. "I have to kill him."

"I think I saw him in the library earlier," Hermione stated.

"Excellent, thanks," Ginny said. "Well, I've got to go. I'll see you at practice, Harry."

"Yeah, see you..."

But Ginny had already left before she could hear Harry's response.

"Wonder what Seamus's done..." Hermione said, flipping through her Transfiguration book, unceremoniously.

She looked up when Harry didn't respond. "Harry?"

His head snapped up quickly as if he'd been in deep thought about something. "What?"

She stared at him for a moment, and then sighed softly. "Never mind."

Gathering up her things, she made her way up to her dormitory to drop everything off before going to Slughorn's supper.

Another exciting day with McLaggen invading my personal space and Zabini sending me glares across the table. I can't wait.

"Hermione?"

She turned around at the sound of her name and spotted Parvati by the door.

"Parvati...Hi...Is there something you need?" Hermione enquired, not quite sure what her roommate would want from her.

"Actually...yes. Could I ask you something?"

"Um, sure, I guess," she replied, wondering what subject she needed tutoring in.

"Okay well...I feel kind of weird asking you this, but...I need to know. Do you...do you fancy Ron?" Parvati asked unexpectedly.

"Excuse me?" Hermione exclaimed, completely taken aback.

"Oh no...you do ,don't you?"

Hermione suddenly realized something and groaned aloud. "You haven't been talking to Ginny, have you?"

"Ginny Weasley? No...Why, does she know, too?"

"What? No! That's not what I—"

"Parvati? What are you still doing up here?"

Both girls turned their heads quickly towards the door to see Lavender enter the room.

"Nothing! I...I couldn't find my wand..."

"It's in your pocket."

"Erm, yeah...because I just found it. Well, I'll see you later, Hermione."

"No, wait!" Hermione called after her.

But Parvati had already left the room.

Great! Just bloody fantastic.

Hermione sat on her bed with her face in her hands, letting out another long groan.

And as she sat there, she had to wonder to herself. Why was it that no one ever suspected her of fancying Harry?

October had quickly fallen upon the castle, and the first Hogsmeade trip of the year had finally arrived. Hermione woke up that morning feeling more exhausted than usual, and briefly considered the possibility of lying in her four-poster all day rather than propelling herself into the cold autumn air of the village.

Sighing, she gathered up her energy and untangled herself from her warm covers. Lavender and Parvati had thankfully already gone down to breakfast, leaving a pleasantly empty shower for her to waste away under for as long as she desired.

After a record breaking twenty minutes, she got dressed, threw her hair in a hasty bun, and made her way to the Great Hall.

As she approached the Gryffindor table, she could hear laughter resonating clearly from where Harry and Ron were sitting.

"What's so funny?" she asked expectantly, taking a seat next to Ron.

Ron merely started laughing once more, however, and she looked curiously up at Harry who had a smile on his face.

"What?" she prodded, starting to get slightly annoyed.

After Ron had settled down some, he began to explain to Hermione just what was causing both him and Harry so much amusement.

Unfortunately, he didn't seem to notice that Hermione was far from amused. Quite the contrary, her jaw was clenched tightly and she was staring at Harry with a cold, hard look that she didn't think she was capable of giving him.

"...and then there was another flash of light and I landed on the bed again!" Ron grinned, explaining the story of his morning wake-up call, courtesy of Harry.

"Was this spell, by any chance, another one from that potion book of yours?" she asked Harry, evenly.

He frowned at her. "Always jump to the worst conclusion, don't you?"

"Was it?" she demanded, not quite caring about the connotation of his words at the moment.

"Well...yeah, it was, but so what?"

Hermione stared at him, dumbfounded.

How could he? How could he just use a spell from some book that seemed to have a mind of its own without even knowing what it was for! How could he possibly be so careless?

It angered her in a way she would have never expected. Here she was worrying over his safety every waking moment of every waking day, poring over mountains of books trying to learn any and every bit information that might help them, trying to be there for him in any way possible, while he went around casting unknown spells out of a potentially dangerous book and having a great laugh about afterwards.

She wasn't used to arguing with Harry. In fact, she hated it. It made her feel cold and empty inside, and rather guilty, as well. Why? She didn't know. But she just hated it. She hated arguing with him and she hated feeling guilty.

Breath, Hermione, just breathe. You're overreacting. You're stressed. You're exhausted. And I'm pretty sure you're PMSing.

Maybe I should have stayed in bed all day, after all...

And as the day wore on, Hermione began to wish more and more that he she had simply given in to her desires that morning because things only seemed to be getting worse.

In fact, in hindsight, it had been the worst trip to Hogsmeade that they had ever embarked on.

It had started off quite normally, Hermione having forgiven Harry. But as they met Mundungus along the way, just outside the Three Broomsticks, things began to go downhill.

"Mundungus!" Harry exclaimed, realizing who it was.

The moment Mundungus laid eyes on Harry, Hermione knew there was something wrong. The ancient suitcase he had been holding just moments before dropped to the ground and burst open, releasing what looked like the entire contents of a junk shop window.

Hermione took in the man's appearance. She had never liked him much, but today he held an even more undesirable air about him. He kept fidgeting and glancing shiftily around him as if eager to be gone.

She saw Ron stoop down out of the corner of her eye and pick up something silver. "Hang on," he said slowly. "This looks familiar..."

She looked down at the object in his hands and immediately felt her stomach turn over uneasily. It was a goblet with the Black family crest on it. And before Hermione could even turn her head to look at Harry, he was already making his way over to Mundungus.

She watched in horror as Harry pinned him against the wall by the throat, holding him fast with one hand while pulling out his wand.

"Harry!" she cried in shock, her heart beating frantically against her ribcage.

But he didn't seem to be listening to her. All his attention was on Mundungus at the moment, their faces nose to nose.

Hermione didn't recall ever witnessing Harry in such a state. He looked ravenous, as if he were ready to kill. And for one fraction of a second, she was almost afraid of him.

"H-Harry, you mustn't!" she practically choked out as Mundungus started turning blue. And she was just about to reach out for his arm, when she felt someone else's grab her own. "Ron, what are you—?"

But before she could finish her sentence, there was a bang, and Harry's hands immediately flew off Mundungus, who seizing the opportunity, Disapparated away with a loud CRACK.

"COME BACK, YOU THIEVING—!"

"There's no point, Harry. He'll probably be in London by now...There's no point yelling."

Hermione looked up into Tonks's face with surprise, her pulse not yet recovering from what she had just witnessed. She barely even registered the conversation taking place until Tonks suggested they get out of the cold.

"Come on, Harry," Hermione said hesitantly, this time taking his arm and leading him inside.

He didn't seem to want to look at her, and she could tell he was still fuming. "Go and sit down, I'll get you a drink," she offered.

After they finished their butterbeers in somewhat of a subdued silence, and Harry had calmed down significantly, they exited the Three Broomsticks, following Katie Bell and her friend out of the door.

Hermione took periodic glances at Harry as they trudged up towards the castle through the swirling sleet. For a long time she had wondered whether or not he had completely gotten over Sirius's death. They hadn't really talked about it all since the summer, and Hermione found herself deeply regretting that now, for Harry was still clearly hurting.

And for the first time in a while, she found herself missing Sirius desperately, as well. In the short time she had known him, Hermione really grew to appreciate his way of making even the most dreadful and hopeless situations seem bearable. He had such an erratic personality, and yet somehow it was calming.

The thing that made Hermione's heart ache the most, however, was the fact that Harry needed Sirius now more than ever. But he couldn't have him.

And as she continued to get lost in her thoughts, the image of Harry's hand wrapped around Mundungus's throat seemed to be permanently replaying itself in Hermione's mind. A part of her was still quite staggered by his reaction, but another, perhaps larger part, couldn't really blame him. She had no idea what it was like to be in Harry's position. She had no idea was he was feeling. Whether he thought and worried over things as incessantly as she did. Whether he had any hope for his future at all...

And suddenly she felt even guiltier over their argument that morning. She was generally somewhat impatient by nature, and unfortunately for Harry and Ron, they were usually the ones who got the worst of it. Even if they did deserve it most of the time.

Nevertheless, Hermione leaned in closer to Harry so as to apologize, but before she could even open her mouth, a sudden shrill scream that sent shivers down Hermione's spine pierced through the roaring wind.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione watched in horror as Katie Bell rose into the air, continuously screaming as if something were causing her deep anguish. They grabbed onto Katie's legs, pulling her down with great effort as she writhed about in their grasp.

After lowering her to the ground, Harry rushed to find help and came back merely seconds later with Hagrid by his side.

"Get back!" shouted Hagrid. "Lemme see her!"

Hagrid stared at Katie for a second, then without a word, bent down, scooped her into his arms, and ran off toward the castle with her.

Hermione seemed to have witnessed the entire scene as if it were in slow motion. Everything had happened so fast and she had barely even registered it. The only thing she seemed aware of at the moment was Katie's wailing friend, and she quickly hurried over to put a comforting arm around her shoulders.

An image of a screaming and writhing Harry or Ron seemed to be blinding her mind's eye as Leanne's wails continued to ring in her ears. She couldn't bear the image and immediately closed her eyes to try to replace it with something else.

"It's Leanne, isn't it?" Hermione asked gently.

The girl nodded.

"Did it just happen all of a sudden, or—?"

"It was when the package tore," sobbed Leanne.

Hermione saw Ron bend down to observe the now sodden brown-paper package on the ground, his hand outstretched. She was just about to warn him not to go near it, when Harry immediately seized his arm and pulled him back.

"Don't touch it!" Harry crouched down, observing the package from a slight distance. "I've seen that before. It was on the display in Borgin and Burkes ages ago. The label said it was cursed. Katie must have touched it."

Walking up to the castle with the package safely wrapped in a scarf, Harry turned to Ron and Hermione.

"Malfoy knows about the necklace. This is what he was buying that day we followed him! He remembered it and he went back for it!"

After everything they had gone through that day, Hermione wasn't really in the mood to deal with Harry's Malfoy-accusations at the moment. However, as they were brought into McGonagall's office to explain what had happened to Katie, he couldn't seem to let go of the idea of Malfoy sending the necklace.

"This is a very serious accusation, Potter," said McGonagall. "Do you have any proof?"

No, Hermione thought, rolling her eyes.

"No," said Harry, "but..." and he told her about following Malfoy to Borgin and Burkes and the conversation they had overheard.

On any other normal day, Hermione was sure she would have at least given Harry's theory some sort of consideration, but today simply was not that day. She couldn't even remember the last time she had experienced such a range of emotions in such a short span of time. And at this point, she was currently back at frustration.

"You saw Malfoy leaving the shop with a similar package?" McGonagall asked Harry.

No.

"No, Professor, he told Borgin to keep it in the shop for him—"

"But Harry," Hermione interrupted, "Borgin asked him if he wanted to take it with him, and Malfoy said no—"

"Because he didn't want to touch it, obviously!" said Harry angrily.

"What he actually said was, 'How would I look carrying that down the street?" Hermione replied, her words growing slightly heated.

"And anyway, it would be all wrapped up, so he wouldn't have to touch it, and quite easy to hide inside a cloak, so nobody would see it! I think whatever he reserved was noisy or bulky, something he knew would draw attention to him if he carried it down the street—and in any case," she pressed on loudly, before Harry could interrupt. "I asked Borgin about the necklace, don't you remember? When I went in to try and find out what Malfoy had asked him to keep, I saw it there, and Borgin just told me the price, he didn't say it was already sold or anything—"

"Well, you were being really obvious," said Harry, his voice rather loud now. "He realized what you were up to within about five seconds, of course he wasn't going to tell you—anyway, Malfoy could've sent off for it since—"

"That's enough!" said Professor McGonagall, as Hermione opened her mouth to retort, looking furious. She dismissed the three of them from her office after explaining to Harry that Malfoy wasn't in Hogsmeade today, to begin with, but that she appreciated him telling her everything.

Needless to say, Harry left the room looking quite angry at both her and Ron for siding with McGonagall. But for the first time in a long time, Hermione just didn't care.

Deep down, she knew she was being somewhat stubborn, but there were simply no facts or any sort of evidence to back up Harry's claims, whatsoever. He was being completely and utterly irrational about the entire situation, basing everything off a gut feeling and one overheard conversation on a train. And that simply wasn't enough!

And above all, the thing that angered Hermione most was the fact that Harry was wasting all his energy on this far-fetched theory rather than putting it into something useful. It was like he needed to know anything and everything about what Malfoy was doing these days. Anytime he would so much as hear Malfoy's name in conversation, he would go on into a tirade about him.

It was annoying, it was frustrating, and it was exhausting. And it bothered her deeply. For the same reason that the incident with Harry's Potions book had bothered her. It was like Hermione was the only one worrying about the future. It was like she was the only one who cared.

Maybe that's the problem. Maybe I just care too much.

Not for the first time, Hermione wished desperately that she had someone, anyone to talk to about what she was feeling. But there was absolutely no one. Not even her mum. After all, how could she explain to her that Harry's life was currently in danger?

Racing up the staircase to her empty dormitory, Hermione did the only thing she could think of. Taking a seat at the desk by the window, she pulled out a piece of parchment, dipped her quill in the ink well, and began writing.

My name is Hermione Granger. Harry Potter is my best friend. I fancy him.

Hermione gazed upon those three sentences for what seemed like ages. They were so simple and so clear. And she wished hopelessly that life could be like that, too.

He's a marked man. He always has been. But these days, his fate draws ever nearer. And that thought terrifies me to death. He's only sixteen years old and he's expected to fight one of the most powerful wizards in history? Tell me how that's fair. Tell me how that makes any sense at all. Please tell me how there's any chance that he could win this!

Tears were quickly beginning to form in Hermione's eyes as she wrote down the treacherous admission.

I've never said it before. I've never even thought it before until now. But how can he do it? Is it possible? Can he defeat Voldemort? I know I'm a terrible person and a terrible friend for even writing down such things. I should have faith in him. I should trust him. But it's so hard when I think about all the evil things Voldemort has done.

And you want to know the worst part? I think all this fear is starting to affect me and the people around me, specifically Harry. It's just that...I worry about him so much. And when he does stupid and dangerous things it makes me angry. Doesn't he know how much I care about him? Doesn't he know how much I want him to be prepared for what's to come? Doesn't he know that I would do absolutely anything on the face of this earth to help him?

It scares me, the way I feel about him. I mean it hasn't even been a year since I realized that I fancied him to begin with. Of course, even if I didn't fancy him, I would still be there for him. He is my best friend, after all. But it's still different...I can't fathom the idea of him dying. I can't fathom a life without him. Because he is my life. Do you think that's unhealthy? Do you think I've gone mad? I'm only seventeen...how can I possibly feel all these things?

Then again, maybe age doesn't really matter. Harry, Ron, and I have been through more things than people three times our age have gone through. Doesn't that mean we should have the ability to feel the way people three times our age can feel?

But even so, maybe this is dangerous...I mean, I've always been a very objective person, haven't I? A logical, fair, and rational person. These days I find myself being the complete opposite. I'm justifying things that shouldn't be justified. Just look at what happened today. Harry could have killed Mundungus if Tonks hadn't stepped in. And yet, I justified his actions. You can say that's what any good friend would do, but that's not what I've ever done. I don't know...I'm just so confused. I'm so utterly confused.

Maybe I need to take a break. It's just too hard feeling this way about Harry at a time like this. I already care so much about him. I can't let my feelings add on to that. I can't let them blind me.

Because I think I'm in love with him.

Hermione stared at the parchment with surprise, as if her hand had somehow written those words of its own accord.

"Love?" she whispered to herself, then immediately looked around as if someone could hear her. But the room was quite empty.

She was in love with him. She was in love with Harry. And she had no idea when it had happened. Somehow the feeling scared her and comforted her at the same time. But after another moment's thought, all it seemed to do was leave an emptiness inside of her. Because she knew what she had to do.

I'm in love with him.

But right now, he needs Hermione Granger, his best friend. And nothing more than that.

So that's what I'll be. I'll be his best friend.

Tears were now flowing freely down Hermione's face. Dipping her quill once more into the ink well, her eyes travelled to the top of the page where she carefully wrote down two final words in the heading.

A Memoir

A/N: Wow, that was very depressing to write. And I apologize...but you gotta do what you gotta do. I'm sorry if you completely hate this chapter and the 6th book in general but if its any consolation, I'm pretty sure Hermione hates it more. Anddd that's all I have to say for now. Thank you for all your feedback last chapter! It is VERY much appreciated as always:)