Things to do

~o0o~

"—we must, of course, observe that while the formulas might match, we can never know for certain. The surest way . . . "

The rest of Professor Vector's words sounded dim, but Hermione's hand moved effortlessly across the page nonetheless. She had perfected the skill of note-taking years ago, and in this moment it proved very useful. Because while having had an above average rest, Hermione found herself increasingly distracted today. Today . . . and every other day these past few days. Too often her thoughts would drift to muse on small things; like what there was for dinner or if she had handed in her homework in time. It was all she had energy for.

The memories were taking their toll on her, or at least so she suspected; there was no real evidence but her own state. Though she reasoned that observing two incredibly lengthy vials in the span of two weeks couldn't be good, she also argued that she'd undergone the first three vials in less than a week before. So, was it not the number, but the effect they had which determined the influence over the viewers?

There was an elbow to her arm and Hermione was startled out of her thoughts. She glanced to her right.

Malfoy.

She followed his questioning look down to her desk and gathered that she'd stopped taking notes some time ago, after all.

Her lips formed an 'Oh' to which the blond only shook his head.

Soon thereafter class ended, and Hermione and Draco said their goodbyes as they parted for their different tables in the Great Hall; Malfoy, as usual, not inquiring anything about the previous situation. It was kind of nice, Hermione thought, having someone respect her privacy like that—although, there was the likely possibility that he simply didn't care. Nevertheless, she appreciated it.

Though, speaking of privacy . . .

At the Gryffindor table, Ginny had spotted Hermione walking over. She gave a tight smile before resuming tending to her meat pie and Hermione supressed a sigh. The two of them had been awkward around each other ever since Hermione had refused to tell the other witch what was going on. It was a miracle they still talked because it seemed to bother Ginny greatly.

Hermione sat down opposite Ginny, ending up with Neville sitting on her left. She greeted them both and while Ginny merely nodded, Neville smiled kindly at her.

"How was your lesson, Hermione?" he asked.

"It was fine," she said, trying to muster up an equally warm smile. "I did look forward to dinner the entire time, though."

"I know what you mean, my stomach was rumbling well into the first ten minutes of my last class."

They exchanged tiny chuckles.

Hermione had finished piling on some food on her plate, when she noticed Neville glancing between her and Ginny. It seemed their little spat had gained some attention. Not surprising, but not entirely pleasant either. She frowned and struggled for something to break the silence.

"So . . ." Hermione began, "Where's Luna?"

Neville chewed quickly, and after swallowing said, "She's out in the woods."

Hermione frowned. "Again?"

Neville shrugged. "It calms her. Reminds her of before, I suppose; the times she'd visit the Thestrals when she was younger. And . . . she doesn't like walls too much these days."

Hermione nodded empathetically, all too aware of why Luna had grown a strong dislike for the solid stone confines of Hogwarts. They reminded the girl too much of her time imprisoned at Malfoy Manor. Honestly, it surprised Hermione that Luna bothered to ever be inside at all. In the future, she'd probably just live outside, right under the stars.

Once they finished their meal and were walking toward the common room, Hermione's arm was held back by another.

"Go ahead, Neville," said Ginny, waving at him. "Just having a chat with Hermione."

Neville, though shooting an apologetic look at Hermione, was clever enough not to argue with her, and walked away.

Ginny dragged Hermione away to an empty classroom.

"All tight," she said. "We've been dancing around each other for an entire week. Let's get everything out. C'mon."

Hermione pursed her lips. "Do you really want to do this now?"

Ginny nodded energetically. "Yes, yes, let's get it all out."

Hermione took a deep breath. "If you insist."

"I do."

"Well," said Hermione, "While I admit I was sort of in the wrong, I can't help but feel that you were too."

Ginny's eyes widened a fraction. "Excuse me?"

"I'm sorry, but you wanted everything out. It's not a horrible thing that I feel like I'm entitled some privacy."

"Hermione, I know and respect that, but that's not what happ—"

"And you can't expect me to constantly share every little detail with you! We're friends but that doesn't mean you have to know everything that's going on in my life."

"But that's the thing!" shouted Ginny suddenly. "That's the thing— I don't know ANYTHING!"

Hermione blinked at her outburst. "What—"

"People are hiding things from me, Hermione! They always have!"

Now she was really confused. "What are you talking about?"

Her ginger friend was pacing, her steps angry and frustrated, as if years of pent up aggression was making its way out.

"What am I talking about?" she repeated, snorting sarcastically, "What do you think? Everything, everyone! 'Ginny's the youngest', they'd say, acting as if you lot didn't get to know more than me when you were my age. Forgetting that I'd already had Tom Riddle in my mind for a whole year by the time I turned twelve." She growled. "And I was already on edge after meeting George that day in Diagon Alley. Did you see how skinny he was? And not to mention how Harry is still acting like everything's fine, but I know he isn't. How could he be? Neither of them will talk to me, and I can't stand it!"

Hermione waited as Ginny kicked the chairs and punched the desks.

"And now . . ." Ginny rubbed her knuckles as she calmed down, "Now you're doing it too."

She turned and looked Hermione straight in the eyes, and the latter was shocked to see the tears glistening on the other girl's cheek. It wasn't the first time Hermione saw Ginny cry, but the instances were so far between one another that it always came as a surprise.

Hermione swallowed, feeling her own eyes sting. "Ginny—"

Ginny shook her head, wiping at her eyes and sniffing, "I'm sorry, I know I'm being unfair. And I'm sorry if I took it out on you, but you've always been honest with me. So, please, try to understand."

"I do understand, but," Hermione sighed, "Ginny, am I not allowed one private thing in my life? I tell you everything else . . . Well, eventually I do. And I will. But these memories I watched? They are private."

Ginny frowned, but nodded.

"I hope you don't think I'm a bad friend, I was just being selfish. I'm sorry."

Hermione smiled. "You've said that already."

Ginny scoffed. "Well, it's true." She wiped at her eyes again. "Oh Merlin, crying's awful."

Now it was Hermione's turn to scoff. "Tell me about it. I feel like all I ever do is cry nowadays."

Ginny looked at her. "You did it after you spoke with George."

Hermione didn't meet her eyes, but nodded. "He said some things that hurt. He was rather vicious."

Ginny frowned again, probably going over all the things her brother could have said to make Hermione take offense.

"Don't worry," Hermione hurried. "I don't want to make a fuss, and he is going through something terrible—"

"That's true, but it's still not an excuse. I lost a brother too, but George is behaving like he's the only one who has a right to grieve and behave like a bastard."

"Well, it's different because it was his twin," said Hermione weakly.

"Don't make excuses for him, Hermione," said Ginny. "We all have been doing it for months now, and it's apparently not working. Angelina is the only one being tough on him, and consequently she's the only one who he doesn't treat horribly." She folded her arms and caught her breath.

Hermione bit her lip. "Are we all right then?"

Ginny blinked. "Of course we are."

Hermione smiled. Then she looked at Ginny's hands. "Do you want me to heal that?"

Ginny glanced down. "No, leave it. It'll heal."

The girls looked at each other again, and it seemed as if they simultaneously thought of the same thing.

They would heal.

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

"Oh, go, Ginny! Get that Quaffle! Er . . . swerve that broom!"

There was laughter next to Hermione as she stood and attempted to cheer Ginny on during practice. It was early still, right before lunch on the weekend, but Hermione had been determined to try to mend her friendship with Ginny. Not that it needed much mending, she and Ginny were fine now, but still . . .

"I think you're only distracting her, Hermione," said Neville between laughs.

Hermione blushed and sat down again. "I'm only trying to show support."

"I think she's just happy you're here," chimed Luna next to Neville. "She's smiling more now that you've made up, too."

Again, Hermione's cheeks heated out of embarrassment. Neville appeared a bit uncomfortable as well. Luna, however, took no notice and redirected her attention back to her friend doing drills with the rest of the team.

"Well done, Dean!" shouted Seamus and applauded.

Luna smiled. "Yes, he's doing very well. Oh no, there goes Demelza . . ."

Just as Dean had got hold of the Quaffle, it was taken by Demelza Robins. She smiled back at Dean before zooming forward toward the goal posts. Without a Keeper the rest of Dean's team could only watch as Demelza threw the Quaffle to Ginny—who upon seeing her team mate obtain the ball, had hurried over to the goal—and in expert moves even Hermione found impressive, scored them another point.

Seamus groaned. "So close."

Hermione glanced at her watch. "If we don't want to starve, we should hurry back to the castle."

"Okay, team!" shouted Ginny from her broom just then. "Good work! We'll practice more tonight, but this time with a Keeper. I want everyone here before dinner."

"Come on, Ginny," said Dean, "we just practiced, surely we don't have to go again the same day?"

"Do you want the cup or not?" asked Ginny, her voice like steel. There was no point arguing, and her ex-boyfriend simply held his hands up in defeat. As did the rest of the team.

"You might be a bit too harsh on them," suggested Neville after Ginny emerged from the changing room a couple of minutes later. "After all, two practices in one day . . ."

Ginny shook her head. "They need it. We have our match against Slytherin on Monday, and though Malfoy is rumoured not to be there, their replacement, I've heard, is almost as good. We need to win that cup, Neville. I need to win that cup."

They all knew of Ginny's dream to play for a professional Quidditch team and she'd expressed her worry to them before that having been named Captain might not be enough. There was a lot pending on these games and though Hermione didn't understand Quidditch, she understood having your future be at stake. Hermione didn't have too much trouble in school anymore, having gained a lot of knowledge and perspective preparing for the war against Voldemort, but she did feel pressure. Regardless of hero status, she was a Muggle-born. And that still came with its predicaments and disadvantages. Therefore, gaining a good grade was not the same as an excellent grade, and could prove to be the difference in her case.

If everything went well, she'd try to change that.

After lunch, Hermione headed up alone to her dormitory to retrieve a book, while the others waited down by the fire. She was rummaging through her trunk when she remembered that the book she was after most likely was in her beaded bag. Suddenly, her stomach felt queasy.

She didn't want to see the rest of the memories just yet. She'd barely had enough sleep as it was, but also, a part of her dreaded the end more and more. When she ran out of memories what would she do?

"Ginny sent for me to fetch you," said Parvati.

Hermione startled and immediately reached for her wand. Realizing what she'd done, Hermione blushed, but to her surprise the other girl just raised an eyebrow.

"You do that too?" Parvati asked.

Hermione slowly lowered her hand, focusing on arranging her trunk instead and not looking Parvati in the eye. "Yes."

Parvati gave a nod.

Hermione got the book and the two of them climbed down. They entered the almost empty common room in silence and sat at opposite ends of the sofa, Ginny and Luna between them. Luna had a comforting hand on Ginny's shoulder.

Hermione looked to Neville who sat in the armchair. "What—"Before she finished, he answered with a nod to the letter in Ginny's hand.

"It's from Ron," said Ginny, looking as if she wasn't sure what to feel. "He says—well, he rambles a lot but the gist of it is that he's concerned for Harry and George. He says they seem a bit . . . weird."

"Weird?" asked Hermione.

"Here." Ginny handed Hermione the letter.

Hermione's chest warmed a little reading Ron's familiar scrawl, but the content quickly diminished that feeling.

'Ginny,

What the hell happened while I was gone? George has been acting like a proper arse since you guys visited him. His fuse goes for every little thing. I had to finally send him to the apartment yesterday, because he was scaring some of the customers. And I've barely had time to visit Harry lately, what with the work schedule I have and the fact that George is behaving like he is, making me have to take care of some of his work too and I dunno . . . In Harry's letters he says he's fine, but he's off work for the first time in ages and he's all alone in that depressing house of his. I told Mum to invite him over, but I don't know if he'll even go. I'm going to visit him tomorrow to see how he is, but I figured I'd tell you in case you caught up on something when you saw him last. Which goes for George as well, by the way.

Hope everything's okay with you and everyone. Tell them hello for me.

Ron'

Hermione read those last lines again. He'd said everyone. He hadn't said 'everyone, but not Hermione', or anything like that. Perhaps he'd started to come around.

"I don't think there's much to do, Ginny," said Hermione after reading through the letter again. "Ron says George is temperamental but we can hardly change that, and he's checking in on Harry tomorrow. We should probably just wait until he does and then ask him what he thinks."

Ginny looked miserable, but nodded. "You're right. I just feel useless. Ron's out there taking care of everyone and I . . ."

"You're here with us," said Luna brightly.

"Yes," said Hermione, not quite sure what Luna was getting at. "Ron is out there but you're here . . . with us, and that's okay."

"That was the worst pep-talk I've heard," said Parvati, not unkindly. "Look, Ginny, it sounds like George and Harry are going through some stuff and though it might be hard to hear I don't think it's something you personally can fix. Only George will manage to make George go through his grieving." Parvati's eyes turned pained for a second, no doubt remembering Lavender. "And like Hermione said, Ron is checking in on Harry tomorrow. You going over isn't going to change much unless Harry specifically asks for you."

"Thanks," said Ginny. Then she turned to the rest of her friends. "And thank you. It's just a bit much at the moment, with everything going on and then there's the match on top of it . . ."

"Perhaps focus on the match, yeah?" said Neville. "If you have something to do it'll be easier to deal. I find that whenever I'm the Greenhouse working with the plants it takes my mind off of stuff and I can relax."

"I'm sure that's not the only thing taking your mind off of things in Greenhouse," added Ginny cheekily, her spirit having returned.

Neville turned red.

"Ah, yes, doesn't Hannah Abbott spend a lot of time there, as well?" asked Parvati, though judging by the glint in her eyes she knew the answer already.

"We're just friends," said Neville.

"And whose fault is that?" asked Ginny. "Honestly, you two are slower than slow."

They chuckled and spent half an hour loudly planning on how to best set the two love-birds up, much to the boy's discomfort. When that settled down, Hermione read her book while the rest of them chatted away before leaving to watch or join practice. Being all out of Quidditch energy for one day, Hermione politely declined their offer to have her with them, instead opting for continuing her read. When feeling her eyelids start to feel heavy she looked up and saw that it was late, the sun already setting. She'd been reading for quite some time now.

She went upstairs to leave her book, ready to leave for dinner, when she thought back on the other day, to when she'd missed to properly write down her notes. She had planned on spending the whole day tomorrow studying, so she'd need a good night's sleep if she didn't want a repeat of that dazed state.

"You've got to be kidding," Hermione muttered.

She had pulled her trunk open and given a tiny displeased growl when she saw that her stock of 'Sleeping Draught' was out.

"How?" she then asked out loud. She'd always kept her supply fully stocked, not to mention the fact that she was very careful of getting addicted to it so she rarely used it anyway. Perhaps she'd been more distracted this past few weeks than she previously thought . . . Hermione dreaded going to Madam Pomfrey, but she knew she'd have to. She couldn't stand sleeping without knowing it would be available in case she needed it during the night.

Also, she knew who'd be resting in a hospital bed today . . .

If she were to make it through the night, she would need to get one now, before people were up and about on their way to dinner. Making up her mind, Hermione hastily checked her appearance; though not bothering to fix her hair or wash her face, because while she didn't want to be perceived as an addict by Madam Pomfrey, she knew that getting too cleaned up would only make the woman suspicious. She was halfway out the door to her and Paravati's room when Hermione decided, at the last minute, to bring a 'Honeydukes' chocolate bar with her.

She made it to the Hospital Wing without a hassle and entered. As suspected, the bed furthest away was shielded with curtains. She sighed.

Madam Pomfrey hurried out of her office at the sound of the opening door.

"Miss Granger? What on earth are you doing here? Why aren't you at dinner?"

"I apologize, Madam Pomfrey," said Hermione. "It's just that my private supply of 'Sleeping Draught' ran out and I haven't got the time to brew more before tonight. I have nightmares sometimes, you see. So I wondered—"

"You wondered if I'd grant you some?" Madam Pomfrey finished for her, raising an eyebrow in the process.

"Yes, Madam," said Hermione, feeling slightly worried at the stare the mediwitch was giving her.

"Other students have been pestering me for the potion. They get addicted, unfortunately. Not that I blame them, the horrible things they've gone through . . ." She turned to Hermione. "I won't deny you the right for a peaceful sleep, but know that I have my limits, for your own sake, Miss Granger."

"Oh, I promise I won't make a habit of this," said Hermione. "It's just that I feel better knowing I have some just in case."

Madam Pomfrey nodded and gave a kind smile. "I understand. I'll have a look—"

Suddenly, the door burst open.

"Madam! Come quick! Demelza Robins has taken a Bludger to her head during practice, no one knows what happened, but—"

Madam Pomfrey sighed. "Did she sprout strange animal body parts?"

Seamus Finnigan frowned. "Yes, but how did you know?"

"Someone's been hexing the Quidditch teams," she fumed. "Thought they'd stopped this nonsense after O'Malley grew gills and couldn't breathe until they put his head in a bowl of water. Wait here, Miss Granger, I'll be back shortly," said Madam Pomfrey.

"Er, sure," said Hermione.

The door closed behind them and Hermione looked around. There was no one here, so she supposed it was safe.

She walked timidly and approached the curtained bed. She called out, quietly, "Hey, it's me, do you mind if I come in?"

There was a pause.

"Like I could stop you either way," that familiar voice drawled finally.

Hermione smiled, taking that as a yes, and pushed the white separator aside. Stepping behind it she made sure to close it properly, so there wasn't any way people could sneak a peek.

"Brought you some chocolate," said Hermione and sat down in the chair by the bed.

"You're not expecting a thank you, are you?" said Draco Malfoy, looking uneasy.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Never." She handed him the chocolate and watched in relief as he unwrapped it. Sometimes he would feel so bad he couldn't even bring himself to sit up.

"You know I'm perfectly capable of purchasing my own chocolate, don't you," he continued, breaking off a generous piece for himself.

"Yes, but that would defeat the purpose, wouldn't it?"

"The purpose?"

"Of being nice."

Malfoy scoffed.

"People can be nice without ulterior motives, Malfoy." Hermione paused. "Just ask Astoria."

At this, Malfoy's pale face got some colour. "What do you know?"

Hermione shrugged. "Oh nothing. I just might have overheard something about arranged pureblood marriages and when researching it, come across an interesting announcement from several years ago, mentioning—"

"All right, I understand. Please stop talking, will you. Your shrill voice makes my ears hurt."

"Given your current state I'm going to ignore that, for my voice is most certainly not shrill . . ." She looked at him. "Have you told her?"

"Have I told seventeen year old Astoria Greengrass that her fiancé turns into a monster every month?"

Hermione nodded, suddenly nervous. How horrible would it be if the person he was arranged to spend the rest of his life with hated what he was?

When Draco simply smirked, Hermione gaped. "She knows?"

"Of course she does, she's brilliant, figured it out on her own."

Hermione smiled. "By the look on your smitten face, I take it she's all right with it then?"

Malfoy actually blushed.

"She's not thrilled, but that's mostly because of what Fenrir did to me . . . why am I talking to you about this?"

Hermione grinned. "Because, believe it or not, I think we're now what people call 'friends'."

"You take that back, Granger."

"I wouldn't be making threats when recovering from the full moon, Draco."

"First name basis? Laying it on a bit thick, aren't you?"

Hermione laughed. "I'm leaving, don't worry. See you in class next week."

The pureblood gave a weak wave and made himself comfortable on the bed.

Hermione closed the curtains and walked to the entrance, waiting for Madam Pomfrey to return. What had happened to Draco Malfoy was unfair, but she tried to do what she could to help. However, as Hermione had come to see with so many things lately, there wasn't much she could do. Yet.

She thought back on her time on Shell Cottage, sitting with Harry, vowing to right the wrongs of the wizarding world, creating a fairer place for all magical beings. And while Remus would never get to enjoy such a world—Hermione's heart broke a little at that thought—she would be damned if she wouldn't try to prevent others from having to suffer the way he had done.

Hermione gave a small smile.

Even if that included Draco Malfoy.

~o0o~

A/N: Hello!

Sorry for taking so long, but it's insane how much planning I had left! I wasn't even sure what to really include here…Also, school started!

Anyway, I love reading your reviews, they remain as lovely as ever and fill me so much happiness! I hope you're all doing well and that you enjoyed this chapter!

Until next time!
/Primrue