CHAPTER FIVE

HOMESICK

It was strange to Hermione how fast the days went by. September turned to October, which quickly turned into November. She fell into the routine quickly, and emerged as the cleverest student in her first year class.

She and Michelle were becoming the best of friends. It was strange, having a female friend. She'd had male friends her whole life, and learning about boys, famous celebrities, and her most flattering shade of nail polish was bizarre. Hermione had learned that men were scum who were only there to break a woman's heart from Parvati, but this brought new meaning.

She did enjoy the pity parties that the girls put together when a guy broke a woman's heart.

It was after a particularly nasty break-up between a friend named Katie and her boyfriend, that the topic turned to past relationships that Hermione had had.

"So, Elizabeth. Have you ever had a boyfriend?" Katie asked. Her eyeliner was running.

"Well, sort of," Hermione said, feigning interest in her books on the bookshelf.

"What happened?"

"My boyfriend was tortured by evil wizards and then sold me and our best friend out and then didn't come back to help. Then the headmistress of our old school decided I could never see any of my wizarding friends again, which means I can't go back and talk to Ron," didn't seem like a very smart thing to say. "Erm, it just didn't work out."

"Well, that's obvious," said Michelle. Hermione thought that her friend had had too much to drink. "I mean, why'd you break up?"

"Er, differences... in... stuff," Hermione said, standing up for a moment to grab a book called Comparative Medicines off the shelf. She knew she was blushing but there wasn't much she could do about it. As Ron would say, "When it doubt, you always consult a book."

"Studying again? It's Friday night," said another girl who Hermione didn't know very well. "I always see you at the library. All you do is study."

"Yes, well, I have exams."

Michelle nodded knowingly. "No one studies like she does. Perfect marks in all your classes, eh?"

Hermione shrugged. "Well, almost."

"She's being modest," Hermione's roommate, Rebecca, chimed in. "She's the best student in all four years."

"Maybe you can help me with math sometime," Katie said with a grin.

"Sure," Hermione said brightly.

"Men stink," Michelle added helpfully.

"They sure do," Hermione agreed softly.

"Where are you going?" Rebecca asked, sleepily rolling over. It was the first Saturday in November, and most of the students were enjoying being able to sleep in after an especially stressful week. Hermione, on the other hand, had woken up early.

"Taking a walk," she responded, flattening her hair with her hand and sighing at her appearance reflected in the mirror. This mirror didn't talk to her, but, judging from the way she currently looked, the talking mirrors of the wizarding world weren't missed.

"Okay." Within a few minutes, her roommate was fast asleep.

Hermione walked outside and enjoyed the cool, crisp air. These few minutes were hers alone, and she didn't have to deal with people asking her why she spent all her energies on studying, or why she didn't laugh very much.

It had been a three years to the day, when she'd discovered that Harry had been killed in battle. In order for Voldemort to die, Harry apparently had to die, as well. No one had expected that. What had the prophecy said? In order for one to live, the other must die... Why had it been flawed? They had all figured that once Voldemort died, Harry would live. Even real prophecies were flawed.

Lucius had shown her exactly how it had happened through some sort of dark magic. "Now there's no need to keep you alive, really. My Lord has been defeated, but so has your friend..."

She walked over to a run down store. Inside, there was a display of flowers, and she grabbed a bouquet. "Here's to you, Harry," she thought.

After she'd bought them, she glanced across the street. Was that a man in a cloak? A wizard? And did he have red hair? She gasped. How had he found her? Hermione stared at the man until he turned around. He bore no resemblance to Ron, and was giving her a dirty look for staring at him for so long. "Just a weird guy in a cloak," she thought sadly.

She had no idea where she was going to place the flowers, so she continued her walk. Later, she found an empty spot against a building. Not very elegant, perhaps, but where else was she going to put it, stuck in the city?

"Take care of Ron for me, will you?" Harry asked, kissing her on the cheek. "I'll be back. And don't forget what Lupin said. You need to find the Death Eaters' hideout. Don't try anything until I come back."

Harry had aged about a hundred years. He was only seventeen, but he knew what he had to do.

"Promise you'll be back?" Hermione asked, holding on to his shoulder.

"Yeah. Where is Ron, anyway? I haven't seen him all day."

"You don't need to worry about that," came a high, cruel voice. For the first time ever, Hermione saw Harry panic. Seeing brave, heroic Harry panic made her shake all over. "I just had a discussion with your little friend. Rest assured, he let us know of your whereabouts. Crabbe, Goyle-- search the premises. If anyone is here, kill them. Lucius, Bellatrix, take the girl. The boy is mine."

She sighed, letting saliva soothe her dry mouth. Thanks, Harry, she thought. "Without you, it would have been much worse for me."

With that, she turned around and began the walk home.