Susan and Hannah wandered into the library, gravitating towards the trio of Gryffindors. Harry gave them a quick smile before finishing the notes he was currently taking. Hermione was in the middle of hastily whispering an explanation to Neville, but his expression betrayed the intense confusion still in place.

'She's been at it for the last ten minutes, something about the difference between a curse and acharm,' he jotted before sliding the note over to the newest arrivals. They let out muffled giggles and Hannah pulled over an extra chair from a nearby table.

Harry wasn't too focused on the work at hand though. His wrist flicked and curved mechanically while he sorted through his ever-increasing pile of problems. They had sent a letter to Charlie after leaving Hagrid's and were expecting a reply tonight, which could either greatly relieve or further burden him. While he hated the idea, he knew he should tell someone about the conversation he had overheard, but he doubted anyone would believe him. Still, he thought, at least then he wouldn't wonder "what if" later on. Then there was the peculiarity that was Remus Lupin. He had seen him in the mirror, but wasn't sure why. If, as McGonagall had said, Remus had moved abroad by the time he was born, he pondered how the mirror knew what Remus looked like, since he had assumed it used a mixture of memory and imagination. He did somewhat trust McGonagall, but he was doubting she had been truthful.

A prod at his hand snapped him out of his thoughts. 'Are you okay? Looked a little out of it there,' Susan quietly asked. He nodded, pushing a smile back up and looking back at the book. The little good news for him was that it seemed that his biggest problem, the Philosopher's Stone, could wait for a bit and give him time to process the others first.

Hermione finished her mini-lecture and asked, 'Do you understand now?' Neville paused a moment before nodding. 'Good, now, where were we...' Her quill perked, nose already closing in on the book.

Paper slid under his hand. 'I never really asked, but how is DADA for you? Quirrel's alright with us, but a Raven said he was always stuttering in your class, which sounded odd.'

Harry silently chuckled, writing a response, 'Always end up with a headache after an hour and a half of his stuttering. Also stares at me a lot, which is a little unusual for a teacher, but I'm used to it.' He glanced up, Hermione was still immersed in her book, so he further wrote, 'If I'm honest, it's strange that I always have a headache. What about Skeeter though? I told you a bit of Gryffindor and Slytherin would get the job done, didn't I?'

Susan swiftly read it before continuing beneath. 'That is strange with DADA – maybe you find the class boring and unchallenging to the point of pain? I mean, if I was defeating dark wizards before I could walk, I'd find learning about hinkypuffs dreadfully dull. With Skeeter, we kinda slipped up. Her reply went to Hannah, so I had to confess our plan before she'd let me check it. Seems Rita doesn't like anyone asking for more money, even when she doesn't know how much they asked for in the first place – one of the nicer words she used was "hustler" and I'd rather not tell you the less nice ones.'

He stifled the chortle, getting an odd look from Hermione and Neville before they went back to revising. 'To be fair, I only defeated the one dark wizard. Sounds like Hannah must have had an interesting breakfast reading that letter -glad you two made up, you both seemed a little lonely without each other. I know it's not quite the same, but most of the Christmas holiday sucked without Hermione.' A few minutes of reading, to allay any conspiracies the others may have, and he slid the note over.

She covertly read it, keeping an eye on Hannah and Hermione, switching between taking notes and replying, 'Mr Potter, I do hope you don't include our conversation in that "sucked"! I do know what you mean, though. We only met in the dorm room after being sorted, but, by Christmas, without her, I felt kinda lost, if that make sense. I'm rambling, aren't I?'

'Perfect sense,' he added, sneakily sliding the piece over while Hermione was gathering another book.

Hedwig swooped down during dinner on Tuesday night, a letter tied to her leg. Harry passed her a bit of bacon before taking it off. She waddled over to his side, resting against his arm. He fixed the unusually ruffled feathers and opened the letter, Hermione having to awkwardly lean over the table to read it until he shifted it to the middle.

'Dear friends of Hagrid,

'You were correct in saying that I work with dragons now as well as having got on well with the groundskeeper. While I'm reluctant to trust anyone who withholds their name, I understand your reasons and the situation really isn't surprising (if I'm honest, I'm more surprised it hasn't happened sooner), so I will go out on a limb.

'I've talked to a few colleagues and we will be able to stop by Hogsmeade on the fourteenth. Another owl will be sent to Hagrid to tell him where and when we'll meet him once we're in the UK.

'Send Hagrid my regards in the meantime, Charlie Weasley.'

'Well, it should be all sorted then,' Hermione whispered.

Harry pulled out his notebook and wrote, 'Do you know any counter-jinxes?' She shook her head. 'That could be a problem since you jinxed it.'

'You can't jinx things like that,' she hissed, 'It's just a myth.'

Shrugging, he responded, 'When everything goes wrong, don't blame me.'

Friday rolled around with a second letter from Charlie and Hagrid invited the pair of them to bid their farewells to Norbert during the afternoon.

'He's jus' so cute, don't ya think?' Hagrid asked, holding up the slobbering dragon chewing on a raw steak.

'Erm, yes, he's a very cute dragon,' Hermione loudly muttered from the other side of the room. Being the brave boy he was, Harry warily stroked Norbert's back where Hagrid had said he liked it, flinching when there was any movement from the baby dragon.

A slight sob followed by a long blow of the nose on a tablecloth-like handkerchief from Hagrid brought Hermione out of her self-imposed exile, laying a comforting hand on him. 'Thanks 'Ermione, I'm a li'l' emotional. I's never easy saying goodbye, no ma'er how many times yer have to do i'.'

'There, there, Hagrid. Charlie said you can visit Norbert whenever you're there, didn't he? So, it's not really a proper goodbye, more like a "see you later," don't you agree?'

'I s'pose yer righ', as always.' He brushed away a large tear before picking up another steak for Norbert. 'I've already as'ed Dumbledore if I can go visi' Romania for a week over the summer, so it'll only be a few months. Jus' need ter find someone to look af'er Fang and I'm sor'ed.'

Hermione retreated back a bit, taking up a seat on the lumpy sofa, with Harry shortly joining her. Norbert was put back in the pot, the lid leaving a sliver of a gap.

'He don't much like the dark,' Hagrid murmured, shifting another lump of wood onto the gentle fire. 'Strange to think he won't be here this time tomorrow. I'll be off down the Hogshead before the older kids wander down, back in time for eggs and bacon.'

'At least you have torturing Malfoy to look forward to,' Harry wrote and handed over.

Hagrid's laughter boomed around the hut. 'Aye. Already had him around for a couple of days in fact, something about good behaviour. Righ' now he's cutting grass for feed, jus' over…' he trailed off, pointing to a blank area. 'Tha's not right. Where'd he go?'

Harry indicated a person running towards the castle.

'He must have been spying on us! What do you think he's gonna do?' Hermione asked, mind bubbling in theories.

'Straight to Snape, like always,' Harry jotted, thinking of what to do next. 'We'll have to tell Charlie and keep Norbert hidden until we can get him out.'

Hermione started to breakdown. 'They'll find Norbert and they'll ask why we didn't tell them and we'll have to admit we broke the law and they'll get the aurors to arrest us and send us to Azkaban and-' she abruptly stopped with Harry's finger pushed against her mouth. He removed it when she was no longer hyperventilating, writing out his plan.

'You two go up to the castle and keep Malfoy and whoever he gets out of here as long as you can. After they don't find Norbert here, Hermione, go write a letter to Charlie and sign it with my name and get Hedwig to take it when she gets back. Make it vague so all he knows is we have to do the swap as soon as possible, doesn't matter if anyone catches you that way. Hagrid, try and stay around the teachers, so they don't think you're trying to sneak off to meet Charlie.'

After reading it, Hermione looked up and Harry was already just out the door. 'What about you?' she half-shouted, running over, but all she got back was a smile and a tap of his nose. 'I hate it when you do that,' she grumbled.

'We gonna follow his plan?' Hagrid asked, in the doorway.

She nodded, walking. 'Things usually work out okay, except he always ends up in trouble. Susan mentioned it was what happens when Gryffindors try to be Slytherins.'

'His mum were a crafty lass,' Hagrid said, striding towards the large entrance to the school, Hermione switching to jogging to keep up, 'Had to be ter keep his dad and friends in check. Always doin' some'in' they shouldn't, those four.'

It didn't take long for Snape and Malfoy to confront the pair, dragging them back to the hut to investigate. Finding no dragon and no Potter, Snape questioned them each, but neither did know where Norbert and he were. With no proof, Snape went back to the school to search for the missing link, Malfoy being excused from his detention to aid him.

Continuing her part, Hermione rambled to the owlery and wrote out the letter to Charlie. Hedwig wasn't there when she finished, but arrived soon enough. Hermione didn't realise until after the owl had left, but was confused by Hedwig allowing her to send a message. Chalking it up to the animal's intelligence, she dismissed it as unimportant for the time being and instead started her own search for Harry.

After her distracted leave, Snape began to fade into sight, as though droplets were washing him into existence as they ran down him.

Hermione, unlike the others, knew why Harry wouldn't be found if he didn't want to be. So, she wandered the quieter areas of the castle, listening out for any familiarly draconian sounds. By the time dinner was laid, there was still no sign of him and she begrudgingly took a lonely seat beside her room mates. She found it strange how boring and quiet it seemed, even though she wouldn't normally say much nor would he write much.

'Miss Granger, could you tell me where Mr Potter is?' McGonagall asked, her voice stern as always.

Hermione shook her head. 'Sorry Professor, I haven't seen him since he left Hagrid's earlier.'

'He's in the dorms, Professor,' Ron said, resting his cutlery for a moment. 'Not feeling well and said Madam Pomfrey threatened him to stay away.'

'Looked a little green when we left,' Dean added, Seamus nodding along.

From nearby, Fred stood up. 'I'm about to head up myself, if you need an escort to see our young apprentice, Professor?'

'Where's your brother?' she asked, eyes narrowing.

'Right there,' he replied, pointing further down the table at Percy. 'And there.' He switched to Ron.

'Your twin brother,' she sharply corrected.

'Why didn't you say so in the first place?' he exclaimed. 'Fred was down a bit before me. Or am I Fred? Anyway, he's a fast writer and reader,' he switched to a whisper, leaning over between Angelina and Alicia, 'But I've got the endurance.' Angelina swatted his head while Alicia choked on her pumpkin juice.

McGonagall cleared her throat before they got too distracted. 'I think removing you from here promptly would be a good idea.' She bade goodbye to the others and made her way to the tower with twin in tow. Her vigour renewed, Hermione hurriedly sank into the remainder of her meal, excusing herself shortly after.

Even though she could, she hadn't been up to the boys' dorms before. There wasn't any particular reason why not, just that she hadn't had a reason to do so before, as Harry didn't spend much time there when not sleeping. She may have thought about waking him up early on the weekends, but he always stayed up later than she did and thought it would be rude to wake him up. After all, she reasoned, if she had only had a little sleep and there wasn't anything important happening, she would quite hate being awoken early.

She shook her head, trying to focus on what was actually happening now. Gently, she knocked, barely a sound made. Still, the door handle lowered itself and the door pulled in, though the lack of a person near to said door caught her like a deer in the headlights.

Harry had to suppress his laughter as he watched Hermione scout both sides of the door, checking the nearest beds for a hidden person while he slipped his wand back under the covers. Once she was suitably stumped, she looked at him and asked, 'What?'

He did enjoy her rare confusion, because it was the only time she looked her age. There was no terribly intimidating book in her hand, or a wrinkled nose while she tried to put complex pieces into place, or a jumble of technical words he barely understood falling out of her mouth.

Seeing her slip towards agitation, he sat up, raised his wand and focused on the handle, silently closing the door with a push and a twist. 'Of course,' she muttered to herself before asking, 'Care to tell me what's going on?' He made a show of pouting, scratching his chin and lowering his eyebrows, before shaking his head. Dejected, she pleaded, 'Please?'

Scrounging a quill and parchment from his bedside table, he noted, 'Nothing is going on, but maybe if you ask tomorrow something will have.'

She frowned. 'Don't you trust me?'

'The less people that know, the less there is to go wrong. Sorry, but if you needed to know, you would, and waiting till tomorrow means I won't have to worry as much.'

It wasn't an answer she liked, but she appreciated the honesty and remorse he showed. A little part of her resented that he seemed to be hiding so much from her right now, but she ignored it. 'Okay, I'll wait.' She glanced around the room and quietly said 'I guess I should go.'

Her hand gripped the handle when she felt something tap her shoulder. A small envelope with "Hermione Jane Granger" printed eloquently sat on top of a larger one. Timidly, she peeled the smaller open and read, 'Happy Half-Birthday! From Harry James Potter,' while subconsciously walking over till she was beside his bed.

She was careful with the slight jerks to open the second. Her breath left as she pulled it out, eyes tracking the delicacies in the stony walls and grainy tables laden with faces and food. Flittering along, she found herself in the picture – it was before she brushed her hair into a ponytail and was, seemingly, avidly lecturing a listening Harry. Above their drawn selves, the ceiling reflected a beautiful day with a few fluffy clouds and a handful of birds. Despite lacking colour, the most astounding part, for her, was that it was entirely in ink without a noticeable mistake in sight. No matter how hard she looked, the largest flaw she could find was a spot where the ink had run slightly, giving a tiny goblet an asymmetric appearance.

Nervous about the extended silence, he placed another note on top, getting her attention. 'Do you like it?'

'Oh Harry,' she softly said, 'It's perfect...' Her eyes continued to dance across the parchment, taking in all the subtle details she had missed on the first glance. 'Did you really do all this?' She looked up to see him nod. 'How can you even be this good?' she asked, a slight smile in place.

He shrugged, writing, 'For the last few years, I've always had a pen or pencil and some paper and get bored a lot.' Reluctantly, he finished it with, 'Do you really think I'm a good drawer?'

'Way better than anyone I know.' Blushing, she added, 'I can barely draw stick people.' They chuckled together, settling back into silence, until she asked, 'How much time did you spend on it?' Tallying on a loose sheet, he hesitantly handed the final number over. 'Twenty-seven hours?' she blurted out.

'Normally an hour a day until I finished that one yesterday. Ruined a few before it too.'

'Really, Harry, I want to scold you for spending so much time... but I can't.' Tentatively, she sat down beside him after he shifted over slightly. 'I would give you a hug, but what do you want instead?'

He shook his head and wrote, 'What you've said is more than enough.'

There was something about his smile that seemed different when she raised her eyes, but she wasn't sure what. 'I really meant it,' she whispered, 'Show it to anyone and they'd say the same thing.'

Part of that made him blanch, but she didn't no what bit. Catching the concern she expressed, he scrawled, 'Please don't show it to anyone.'

'Why not?' The look on his face worried Hermione. She thought it must be like the intense look her parents said she took on when trying to do long division with three-digit numbers, except while also remembering about the time she caught her hand in the car door.

Eventually, his face slipped into one of indifference and he hunched over the page, carefully writing, 'You know my aunt, uncle and cousin are muggles, but you don't know they don't like me because I can do magic, because I'm different. I know it's stupid, but I'm scared - I don't want my friends to know in case they act like my family because they think I'm "girly" (no offence) or just plain strange or something else. Things are great and I don't want to risk that, for anything. I mean, I even told the others I bought their Christmas cards by owl-order when they asked where I got them.'

'I...' she breathed. It was overwhelming for her, as both the reality of the words and their implications set in. The true value of the picture in her hands shocked her, realising she was probably the only other person to actually know she had something he drew, as well as the trust he was placing in her and in their friendship to keep that fact hidden. It also answered why he had stayed over Christmas and why he never sent a letter home - not that she had noticed either of those at the time. Horrid thoughts ran through her head when she wondered how much his relatives "didn't like" him, but she shook them off, knowing Harry to be strong enough to stand up for himself if he needed to. Finally, she ran through her own three deadly fears – loneliness, rejection, failure – and couldn't help but remember how scared she was when she encountered them. 'I promise,' she finally whispered, absently giving him a one armed hug before realising what she had done. She apologised and made a hasty exit. After a final, lingering gaze, she closed the door, holding her most treasured present firmly against her body as though it may slip away.

That horrible feeling of being unneeded grated away at Hermione while she sat on the closest armchair to the portrait-hole entrance of the Gryffindor common room. Harry had left an hour prior and still hadn't returned, though she knew he would only be back after midnight, which was still an hour away. The book on the last Goblin rebellion remained open, though she hadn't read a word. A few had given her odd looks, but only two of her room mates, Lavender and Parvati, had actually talked to her and they gave up quickly.

Ron walked out from the stairwell, heading to the portrait, bringing attention to himself in doing so. 'What're you doing? It's passed curfew,' she asked.

He continued onwards, saying, 'Harry's not here.'

Paling, her frantic brain drove on. 'He went to see Madam Pomfrey because he was feeling worse.'

'Oh,' Ron said, stopping, 'I hope he's okay. What am I saying, of course he will.' Turning back to the stairs, he bid goodnight and returned to the dorms.

'I'll have to tell Harry, otherwise he might get in trouble,' she muttered to herself.

Now calm, her brain started producing a list of places he could be. Her first thought was out on the grounds, near the forest to reduce the chance of someone seeing them, but she dismissed it since he would have to get outside and opening the large doors in the foyer would be much too noticeable, especially if Norbert was making noise all the way there as well. So if it was inside, then there was a whole host of possibilities. He would want it to be somewhere far from most of the teachers, she thought, which would make it a higher up floor. Her next method of deduction was how the others would get to him. It was obvious, to her, that they wouldn't be able to simply walk in, as that would require opening the gate, which was locked overnight, and mean they have to cross the grounds unnoticed by Filch or any other nocturnal teachers who may look out a window. If they couldn't enter by foot, then perhaps by broom, she proposed. That being the case, an upper floor would be better to make sure no one saw them arriving, in fact, the higher the better and nothing was higher than the towers, one in particular being perfect as it wouldn't be occupied by anyone at this time.

'That's it,' she again muttered, feeling triumphant.

Pressing her ear to the back of the portrait, no sounds gave away unwanted presences. She gently pushed it open, slinking into the dark corridor perforated by patches of moonlight. The Gryffindor tower was close to the astronomy tower and she shortly found herself climbing the spiral staircase to the walled roof where their telescopes were.

She nearly cried out from fright when her head peered through the doorway and her eyes found their professor bent over a complex looking collection of tubes and dials, all roughly aimed at the half-moon in the sky. Cursing her own stupidity, she silently closed the door, trotting back down the stairs.

At the end of their first lesson, Professor Sinistra had said that she spent most nights stargazing, trying to find the intricate patterns to the night sky's chaotic movement which was something only the adept centaurs knew. This left Hermione in a quandary as there were only four towers: Gryffindor's, Ravenclaw's, astronomy's and the headmaster's. With the three others inhabited and so unsuitable, she had no good ideas of where Harry was.

A mewing sounded, startling her out of thoughts and into a panic, Mrs Norris staring at her. This was the first time they had met, but Hermione had been told, and overheard, enough to know that Filch would be close by. Tentatively stepping backwards, she hoped the cat wouldn't follow her, but her hope was promptly dashed.

'Found a student, Mrs Norris?' echoed Filch's voice from around a corner behind the cat.

Deciding it was the only sensible and reasonable thing to do, Hermione turned and fled. The cat leapt into action, hissing loudly enough for Filch to hear and change to a run as well.

'Don't let them escape!'

Hermione wished she knew more about the castle this high up, taking sharp corners she hoped would throw off her pursuers. The light pitter patter of padded paws persisted though and she knew they would until she was caught.

The only way to escape, she thought, was to make it to the common room, where Filch couldn't get her in trouble for being in so late. It took her a few corridors to get her bearings, legs tiring faster and faster, but they held to take her to the portrait of the Fat Lady, the hidden entrance to their common room.

She was about to speak the password when she heard Filch, from just around the corner, exclaim, 'Mr Potter!'

Her brain cracked, unable to even try to think of what to do. Every rational part screamed to get inside, that there was no need to get both in trouble. The other crooned about their friendship, that if he was in her position, he would make sure she wasn't facing Filch alone.

In the end, it was decided for her as the portrait opened and Ron jumped out, crashing into her and bowling them both over, a smorgasbord of sounds attracting Filch over. 'Well, well, another two Gryffindors sneaking about after curfew. One would think you'd at least be sensible enough to sneak off to a broom cupboard during the day. Such a young age too – it's all those teenage magazines about sex and make-up and other nonsense.'

Hermione blushed profusely at the insinuations, while Ron was oblivious and said, 'But I only wanted to check on Harry in the infirmary.'

The smile on Filch's face could curdle milk. 'Mr Potter? Why, he's right as rain.' He motioned behind him to said boy, standing around looking bored.

Filch went on to shake his head, muttering about how responsible kids were back in his day, and noted their names, taking them to his office. Once there, he pulled out two new files, making a big deal of writing Ron and Hermione's names onto a small slip of parchment before sliding it into a holder. Three larger sheets of parchment were then taken out, details of their rule breaking put upon each and he slid one into two files before putting them into a small drawer labelled "1991 Students," from which he retrieved Harry's file and placed the final detention sheet inside and returned it.

'I'll be talking to Professor McGonagall tomorrow morning and get you your official detention slips for lunchtime. I'm pleased to inform you that standard practice for curfew breakers is helping Hagrid with his biweekly patrol of the Forbidden Forest. Something about learning what lurks in the darkness helps keep kids tucked up in their beds where they should be.'

By now, Ron had dipped to anxiety, avoiding looking at Filch at all costs. Hermione had taken it a little harder, hands trembling and eyes firmly locked on her shoes with the odd sniffle too. Filch, though, was worried about the placid Potter, hoping against hope that this one wouldn't cause as much trouble as his father.

He kept them no more, escorting them back to the common room. In her despair, Hermione made no attempt at isolating Harry and questioning him on the events of the night. Ron merely asked Harry if he was okay, getting a nod in reply, then went to sleep.

Soundlessly, Harry picked up some parchment and his pen from the bedside table. He pulled his curtains closed, sitting on his bed in the darkness and ignited the end of his wand, casting a gentle glow about the area. Finally, he proceeded to delicately graze lines and curves across the parchment.

Author notes

Horrible chapter to write, because I really have no idea if Hermione would act like she had during their dragon/drawing conversation. However, I pushed through (and rewrote it a couple of times) and am somewhat happy with it. Mute Harry as an artist was an early idea of mine and the reasons he gave were very much what I thought. It's very unlikely to be important to the adventure storyline, but may be important in the relationship side. Oh and if anyone is worried, Harry will be disciplining Hermione for her rather silly thought that she had to warn him and the like.

Onto unstory, so far no one has complained about the erratic (and slightly slowing) update schedule, but for any interested parties, the main reasons are losing a bit of steam and exams being over, which sounds odd, but it means I have more free time and so are more inclined to use it to read than write. It's something I'm trying to fix, but when there's so much good stuff vying for my attention, it's hard to say no.

Until next time, ponder what Harry truly did, because everything is not as straightforward as Hermione saw it. Another thing to ponder is two great audio mysteries that no one has, so far, picked up on, but I can reveal the answer is the recorder he usually keeps with him.