This story take place after winter break of Harry, Ron, and Hermione's 6th year (alongside the story of the Half-Blood Prince).

Summary of previous chapters: Hermione goes exploring the night of everyone's return to Hogwarts after winter break while all other Gryfindors are finishing their homework. She encounters this beautiful clearing within the Forbidden Forest that has a bench and lamp. All of a sudden Draco Malfoy emerges from the trees, appearing vulnerable and then runs off. Hermione goes on with her everyday life at Hogwarts, still avoiding Ron, and Malfoy is as hateful as ever.

Ch. 5 – Tedious Routine

The day dragged on painfully slowly. Luckily, Lavender would corner Ron at the beginning of each class and sit with him, sparing Hermione and the two boys additional awkwardness. She and Harry were left to find their own table and they both gravitated to the back of the classroom for similar reasons. From this point of view they could observe everyone in the classroom without being noticed. Neither spoke very much, for their minds were on other things. Throughout the course of the day's classes both darted their gazes towards the same subject – Draco Malfoy.

Finally, in Transfiguration, Hermione shook her head to clear it. She had enough to worry about without wasting her time and energy thinking about that malicious boy. No matter that he had more than one side to him. So did every other living person. Besides, she was behaving in the same appalling obsessive manner as Harry. And that was certainly a frightful thought. This was one time when she would have to resist her impulse to track down the answer to an obscure problem. Unless she resolved to completely block it out of her mind, it would continue to bother her until she solved it. So she would block it out. She decided to distract herself with some her work. It's not like it hadn't worked in the past. In fact she found this to be the most successful way to distract herself from anything. It had even worked when her friends had been so angry with her in their third year.

So, following their afternoon classes and dinner, Hermione dragged Harry to the library. She spent the rest of the evening until dinnertime with Harry, badgering him to do his work, and losing herself in her studies. Harry didn't really complain much, and that bothered her the most. He oscillated between doing his work and starring off into space. She was so worried about Harry. She knew how powerless he felt first hand, but she was terrified that he would crack and do something really reckless.

All this worrying and fretting was likely to make her mad and very quickly at that. As curfew approached, Hermione was incredibly relieved. So much for stilling her jumpy thoughts and nerves with some reading. Studying with Harry was like trying to relax next to a sleeping hippograff. A hippograff consumed by nightmares and likely to wake up and devour you in any second.

"Harry" she murmured receiving no response. He was staring out the window of the library completely immersed in his thoughts. Hermione almost wished she could read his mind so that she would know how to better help him or talk to him. Harry's intensity sometimes frightened her because she could never quite understand its logical origin. He was so full of passion and feeling that he didn't respond to anything rationally. Least of all his own emotions.

This time she prodded Harry whispering sharply in his year, "Harry". He jumped so suddenly, and faced her with a strange look on his face which vanished in an instance.

"Harry, it's time to go."

Hermione all but dragged Harry towards their rooms, as Harry starred off into space.

Arriving back in Gryffindor tower, Hermione all of a sudden wished that she and Harry hadn't left the library. There in the center of the common room stood Ron. Trying to maintain her cool, Hermione breathed deeply and channeled all her emotions into the death glare she was sending Ron. The only thing that restrained her from launching herself at Ron in a fit of rage was the fact that Lavender was no where to be seen.

"I'm going to bed," Hermione announced loudly and directed entirely to Harry. Ron continued to try to look at Harry, but kept sneaking obvious glances her way out of the corner of his eyes. A frustrated huff and loud steps were the only sound of her departure, as Harry continued to look at her helplessly. It served them both right, she thought. Let Ron deal with Harry's emotional problems, and let Harry deal with Ron's ahole-like behavior.

She got ready to bed and shuffled under her covers sufficiently drained. She was restless and didn't really feel like sleeping, but her body was exhausted. However, she hadn't slept much the night before, and she couldn't wait for the blissful ignorance of slumber. So she lay immobile and counted, slowly trying to still her mind. At about count nine, she peeked through her groggy eyelids to stare out the window towards the Forbidden Forest. By eighteen, she was sound asleep.

Hermione sat up abruptly in fear. Her eyes slowly peered around the 5th year girl's dormitory obscured by the haze of sleep. Pulling her legs up towards her chest, Hermione stilled her rapid heartbeat. She wrapped her arms around her knees and tried to remember the dream she had just had. Hermione's whole body ached with the tension in her muscles, and by now, she was wide awake. She glanced at the clock upon the wall, and it read 3:00am. The almost moon shone in her eyes and she got up to close the blinds. Standing by the window she saw a figure make its way out of the forest towards the castle. It was Malfoy.

Her mind reeling, Hermione knew that she would never be able to fall back asleep. Her mind drifted from Malfoy, and the walls seemed to close in on her as she remembered the terror from the dream she couldn't quite remember. Quickly making her way out of the dormitory, Hermione chastised herself for not being able to remember her dream. You'd think something that scary would be important enough to remember.

A few summers ago, having finished reading all the magical books she brought home for the summer, Hermione had read a book on lucid dreaming. Skimming through her parents' bookshelves at home, it was one of the few non-medical books and had seemed somewhat interesting. As she read on, the possibility of controlling what happened when she was asleep was particularly appealing, and she began with writing down her dreams. Within a half year, Hermione could vividly remember most of her dreams and forcibly wake herself up from nightmares. By the time the next summer rolled around she had succeeded in controlling, for the most part, all that happened in her dreams. Thus, it was somewhat disturbing that this was the second haunting dream in a row from which she'd woken and remembered nothing about it.

The darkened common room seemed much less inviting at three o'clock in the morning than it usually did. Either that or it was merely her frazzled nerves. Nonetheless, Hermione pulled out her wand as she pulled open the door. She glanced back at the sleeping Fat Lady and smiled. The Fat Lady reclined in her chair, her bulk overflowing the armrests and her mouth wide open, snoring loudly. Gryffindor's door keeper wouldn't be thrilled at being woken upon Hermione's return.

Hermione walked along the hallways immersed in thought which, once again drifted back to Ron Weasley. She felt so abandoned since their estrangement. Sure, she was infuriated over what he had done to her and had no desire to get within a broom's length of him, but she also missed spending time as friends with him and Harry. The two of them were her sense of security and stability at Hogwarts, well at least partially so. She had to acknowledge, however, that the library was much more constant and consistent than the two of them – it was one of the reasons she loved it so. But, after all her time at Hogwarts, she had always counted on the two boys to be her core social and support group. That was the reason why she'd been so distraught in third year when they were angry with her. But she'd made it through third year fine, and it hurt a little less now. Furthermore, she had a great deal of validation for the anger and hatred she now felt for Ron. Focusing on her anger helped hold her hurt at bay during the daylight hours.

But at night things were different. The subdued appearance of everything around her quelled her anger and assuaged her hatred for Ron. She had nothing to lash out at, and the moonlight rent open her defenses. She wandered through the deadened hallways and descended the lifeless staircases. At this time of night, even the staircases were too drained to move. Her eyes welled with tears as she ineffectively tried to ignore the pain she felt. So far she had been remarkably successful in suppressing the emotions she might have had about Ron's betrayal. She'd cried only a little and found ways to ignore it most of the time. Before break she'd focused on her anger and vengeance, and during break, it had been easy to ignore him. Now, she was back at Hogwarts and things weren't back to normal. After all the times he'd shown how much he liked her, Ron had done a remarkable turnaround.

All alone, she now cried. She was deep in the castle's recesses when she slowed her steps as her tears increased.