AN: Yes, all these one shots are connected and no I do not own Harry Potter. Surprisingly, I don't own Halloween either.
"Did you know that ghosts are real?" One classmate spoke in a low voice to a friend, "I heard from Billy who heard from Monica that her cousin saw an actual ghost once." His voice had risen in his excitement as he put extra emphasis on 'actual', gaining the attention of many nearby children, Hermione included.
"Well, I read a book about ghosts and it says that most sightings and claims are actually just tricks of the mind or natural phenomenon that make people believe they saw or heard something that wasn't there to begin with. For instance the Will o' the wisp was believed to be a spirit or spook light of some sort that would lead people away from safe paths and into bogs, swamps or marshes where they would get lost and sometimes die. Of course the real cause of a wisp is actually caused by natural gasses being released from the marshy waters that would somehow catch on fire." She just couldn't help it, she was a logical person and she knew deep down there was no such thing as ghosts and magic and thus words just came pouring from her lips with the need to enlighten her classmates.
The other children were not nearly as interested in it as Hermione was, as a matter of fact it had quite the opposite effect as many of the children began to disperse into smaller groups of friends as they looked at exhibits. The class was currently at the Haunted Spookseum, the local museum was big into holidays and would set up different exhibits based on whatever big Holiday was coming up. She looked around her and sighed, alone again, but at least she was used to being alone. She had friends but she didn't have friends. Let them avoid her, she didn't care what they thought of her or said about her. It didn't hurt when they called her a bossy know it all. Of course it didn't. She also didn't care if they called her a teacher's pet, not one bit.
"So, did you swallow the whole encyclopedia for breakfast or just the parts about ghosts and ghouls?"
Hermione squeaked in surprise and turned around, like a jigsaw puzzle whose pieces were carelessly tossed onto a table Hermione could only register bits and pieces at first before they came together to form a complete picture. Dark brown eyes, almost black, black hair styled perfectly, a smirking mouth. Just what was he doing here during the same her class was, he was a year or two older than her at least so shouldn't he be in school? Her face visibly changed from surprise to recognition to irritation so fast that it was more than obviously comical to said boy whose name she still didn't know.
"Why?" She asked sharply, not really caring if it was rude of her, it wasn't like he was exactly sunshine and daisies to her so really she was just even with the prat. More or less.
"Oh, so it's as I thought. You really are too stupid to think for yourself when you're not reciting information from a book, word for word." The left side of his mouth curled up mockingly, "It's a shame, with a face like that you should at least be smart."
Hermione self consciously lifted a hand to her mouth, so what if she had slightly large teeth, her teeth didn't define her as a person. Her eyes narrowed and she flipped her crazy hair back out of her face, "I was actually asking why you're here, it seems you were the one who was not intelligent enough to keep up in a conversation with an actual intellectual."
A slightly pink tint touched his cheeks, from anger or embarrassment Hermione couldn't tell, "If I was talking to an intellectual maybe I would feel the desire to pay attention, as it is I'm just trying to stay awake."
She glared at his back, he was a prat. Definitely a prat. An annoying, conceited, thinks-too-highly-of-himself prat. She glared at his back as he walked off to study an exhibit, did he really think he could try to scare her, insult her, and then just walk off without her saying anything? Ok so maybe she had insulted him back but he started it! With hands on slim hips that were still boyish in figure she stalked after him.
"You know, you're really rude." Her arms were now crossed across her chest.
"You should feel honoured that I acknowledged your presence to begin with." He lifted a hand and dusted invisible lint off the shoulder of his worn, patched jacket.
Hermione knew what she wanted to say at that point but something stopped her and she couldn't quite bring herself to do it. To be honest it was like her forgot, or was pretending to forget, about how their last conversation ended, but she didn't forget. That coldness that was still hanging around him like a dark cloud, the undertone of constant anger and, yes, even that tinge of loneliness he denied was there. With a closer look Hermione could also see, now that it was daytime, that all his clothes were worn down, some patched and some frayed. Did he perhaps have an older brother that gave him hand me downs? That might explain why the clothes hung loose around his thinnish frame.
She opened her mouth to say something, thought better then closed it. She wanted to invite him to have lunch with the class, she had brought a packed lunch so he could share with her, her parents always seemed to give her more food than she could eat anyway. He would probably laugh at her or say something mean if she did invite him, really why should she bother with someone who was such a jerk. The caring and brave part of her won out over the selfish and cowardly half and she ended up, against her better judgement, opening her mouth again and this time the words actually came out before she could shut it.
"You could have lunch with us, if you wanted."
"I wouldn't want to lower myself." The smile he gave her before walking out of her life a second time was strangely terrifying and she found herself wondering why he had even bothered to approach her at all.