A/n: I love this story, quite frankly. I don't know about anyone else, but I just like writing it. Anyways, I've finally updated, and I hope it lives up to everyone's standards! Unfortunately the questions my reviewers asked cannot be answered, for they will totally blow away my plot, which I share with no one... mwah ha. Anyways, hope you guys like this chapter, I think it's exceptionally long, so enjoy it.

Chapter 11

Hermione was thankful sixth years were allowed Thursday afternoons off, because it gave her a chance to continue work on the Wish Reversal Potion, although she was starting to get good at getting to it in between some classes.

"Hey Hermione!" Ally called as Hermione hurriedly approached the Portrait hole. "Where are you off to?"

"Er, just going for a walk." she answered quickly.

"Oh! Well, we'll come with you!" Pansy jumped up out of her chair.

"Good idea Pansy." Ally agreed and also stood up.

"Actually, I kind of wanted to... be... " Hermione hesitated. "... alone." She looked from Pansy's face to Ally's face, then added, "To think about - you know - things."

Understanding washed over Ally's face, followed by Pansy's as she nodded slowly.

"Sure thing." Ally smiled and she and Pansy sat back down in their chairs and continued doing what they had been doing before.

Hermione breathed a small sigh of relief and exited the Gryffindor Common Room. She wasn't lying, after all. She did want to be alone, she was going for a walk (although that was not her main purpose) and she was going think 'things' over.

Just a short time later, she arrived in the deserted classroom she was using to make her Potion in. As she read over the instructions and ingredients for at least the hundredth time, she was once again reminded of why this particular potion takes so long to make.

"Let Fillabean scales simmer for forty-nine hours before adding a sprinkle of Mulchidna Dust. Stir four times left, three times right, then let simmer for another two hours. Remove heat at such time."

Hermione sighed and followed the instructions. Everything had to be timed just right or the whole potion could be entirely messed up. She was back to add the Mulchidna Dust this time, let it simmer for two hours, do the stirring, and remove the heat. She has charmed the flame under her cauldron so she could set it like a timer. It was an extremely handy tool to have especially for times when the heat needed to be taken away and she was not able to, being in class or at Quidditch or asleep at such a time.

She added the designated amount of Mulchidna Dust, and let her pot begin to simmer. While the cauldron cooked, Hermione pulled out her journal, which she was currently keeping with the Wish Book and the Coin in this classroom she could write in it whenever she was sitting there waiting for the Potion to cook.

Before writing a new entry, Hermione flipped back in the book a large chunk to a page dated, "August something" and read,

"Yes, August something. I've been at the Burrow for several days now and I have no idea what day it is. As usual, I am writing from bed, while Ginny sleeps. Things have been going so wonderfully. Yesterday we all went for a walk together, and the others kept getting distracted by this or that. Finally it was just me and Ron, walking along, and I wanted so badly to hold his hand. He seemed embarrassed that it was just the two of us, however, as his ears and cheeks went bright red and he started rambling on about what classes he is taking. I just wish he would figure out how much I really like him."

Hermione smiled, remembering the incident clearly. Ron was so cute when he was embarrassed. Now that she thought of, she was quite sure everyone knew Hermione liked Ron, except Ron. Ginny seemed first to figure it out, and must have told Harry. The twins were next, and probably told Bill. Mrs. Weasley always seemed to set tasks that only required two, specifically to Ron and Hermione...

Still smiling, she flipped to another entry, this one dated "Sunday, September 7th".

"I don't want to write at all. I do not feel like doing anything except crying. But I feel I must at least summarize my horrid situation. Something happened and now Ron and Harry are Slytherins. So are Ginny, Katie Bell, Lavender, Parvati - all Slytherin. But I'm Gryffindor. Gryffindor with Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Crabbe, Goyle and Millicent. Harry called me a Mudblood. This is the worst day of my life."

She shook her head and sadly turned to the next entry, "Monday, September 8th".

"The wishing Coin did it. It was in my pocket during the fight with Harry and Ron. I did this. I made it this way. I hate it - I want out of this world."

Hermione sighed and turned several pages until she came to one dated not more than three days ago, hoping this next one was less depressing.

"How can this be happening? What is wrong with me? I thought I loved Ron - yet I have a totally different reaction when I am around Cedric. But I can't be in love with Cedric! I love Ron! And besides, Cedric doesn't even exist in my world. What's the use in falling in love with him, because when I go back, he'll be dead! What is wrong with me?"

Not really any less depressing. It only renewed her emotions on that particular subject and quite frankly she had no idea how to handle them.

She thumbed through the pages to a blank one and began to write.

"Not a whole lot to say. I'm stuck, for the time being. I have to wait so long for this Potion to brew, I sometimes wonder if I'll ever see my Harry and Ron again. And even more alarming, is when I sometimes wonder if I even should bother with this Potion. I don't why I think that - that's not true. I think that maybe I'll just stay in this perfect world, because Cedric is in this perfect world, and I think I'm falling in love with Cedric."

A tear suddenly slid down her cheek. It wasn't supposed to become this complicated. It was merely supposed to be that she'd switch it back as soon as possible. She wasn't ever going to give a thought to leaving things how they were. And yet she was.

She shut her journal tight and wiped her eyes dry. She was Hermione Granger. She would make the Potion work. She would go home - rightfully home - to Harry and Ron. No matter how much it hurt to leave someone behind.

Two hours later, after Hermione had stirred her potion, removed the heat, added more ingredients as the book instructed, and left it to brew for another thirty-something hours, she started back to Gryffindor Tower. She was deep in thought about her Potion, her upcoming late-night Astronomy class, her feelings for a red-head and curly-haired brunette, and other complications in her life, that she did not notice that red-haired person with his black-haired friend clomping up the stairs. That is, until they called out to her.

"Hey Granger!" Ron yelled.

Hermione stopped at the sound of his voice, which gathered very mixed results. She was happy to hear his voice, saddened to know it wasn't really him, and disgusted to know how he was right now. She kept walking at the sound of Harry's voice.

"Hey, filth!" he shouted.

Hermione kept walking as though she heard nothing, and slowly moved her hand to her wand.

"Hey! We're talking to you, Granger!" Ron shouted snidely.

Hermione quickened her pace, her them quicken theirs, but was surprised when they both suddenly move din front of her, effectively cutting her off.

"What's your problem, anyway?" Harry folded his arms across his chest.

"Yeah. You deaf or something?" Ron copied Harry's stance.

Hermione stifled a sigh, seeing no easy escape route, excluding hexing them both to the other side of the school. "No, I am not deaf. I just ignore prats." she said, a definite edge to her voice. She moved to get past them, but they moved to be in her way again.

"What's your problem, anyway?" Harry said irritatedly, obviously not aware he had just repeated himself word for word.

Hermione didn't give Ron a chance to interject his own stupid remark. "You're my problem. Now please get out my way!" She tried once again to step around the two boys and once again they made a point of blocking her path. She stomped her foot in frustration.

"Ooo, touchy." Ron scoffed. He lightly elbowed Harry. "How long, you think, before she blows?"

"How long does it take for slime to boil?" Harry rudely answered.

They both chuckled and snickered heartily, their crossed arms shaking, as if that remark was one of the better jokes they'd ever shared together.

Hermione determinedly ignored the shot and clenched her fists. "Get out of my way." she said coldly and evenly.

Ron leaned close to her, supreme dislike etched into his features. Hermione had only seen that look on Ron's face when he regarded Malfoy. "Make me."

"You asked for it." Hermione mumbled, then abruptly shoved herself between the two by putting a hand on each of their shoulders and pushing hard. This resulted in each boy stumbled sideways unexpectedly.

Ron rubbed his shoulder and shouted testily after Hermione, "No need to get nasty, Mudblood!"

Hermione's blood boiled and she broke into a run. Her head was mingled with deep sadness and anger as a tear slid out the corner of her eye. 'Anywhere but here...' she thought, and ran harder.

The two Slytherin boys hollered something after her, but she merely heard the noise, not the words. She was already bounding up the steps, three at a time, trying to get as far away from Harry and Ron as possible.

Why? Why oh why had she been so careless in her wishing! This was by far the worst thing she had ever done or experienced. Sure, Snape and Malfoy were nice, but she'd lost the two people she cared about most in the exchange.

Hermione reached the seventh floor and saw no one in the hall. She wasn't sure what to do now. If she went into the Common Room, people would see she was upset and press her with all kinds of uncomfortable questions. Even merely passing through would bring up the question of her previous whereabouts. However, if she was to go anywhere else, the possibility of meeting up with Harry and Ron again was too great. She could try and make for a girls washroom or the library, but that still presented her with the problem of running into Harry or Ron on the way.

She looked around the wide hall of the seventh floor and in the far corner, not far from the Gryffindor portrait hole, there was a tall book case, which had been pulled a foot or two away from the wall to its left. It was a prefect, shadowed little spot for one to sit unnoticed.

There.

Hermione walked briskly over to the dark little corner and settled down on the chilled floor, bringing her knees up to her chin. Only her feet were in the light of the hallway. Another tear slid down her cheek. She ignored it and buried her face into her knees, wrapping her arms tightly around her legs. At that moment, she wasn't sure if she could feel any worse.

The same old thoughts drifted through her mind. She wanted Ron - her Ron. And Harry, the-Boy-who-lived. She wanted Professor McGonagall, with her kindly smile and strict rules, her understanding and her quirky, rarely seen sense of humor. But she wanted Snape to stay the same: confident, red, and endearing. Malfoy, Ally, Greg, Pansy, Vinny, Millicent - all the same. And Sirius! Alive and well, not murdered by a cold-blooded cousin of his.

And of course Cedric. The Cedric she suddenly yearned for, thought about so often, couldn't help but feel the way she felt about. She would never see him again when she went back.

Hermione tightened her arms around her legs, wishing it were all just a dream. It wasn't fair to have this "parallel universe" dangling in front of her like this, with the knowledge she had to snatch it away the moment she was able to, when she was able to go back where she belonged.

As Hermione sat there in the dark corner beside the bookcase, wrapped up in her grief and complicated, repeating thoughts, she didn't notice a person slowly approaching. She was so severely startled to hear when the person spoke, that she flipped her head back and hit it soundly on the wall.

"Hermione?" he ventured, causing Hermione to jump and hit her head.

"Wha - ooo, ow..." she rubbed her head and hastily tried to stand up.

"Sorry."

Hermione tired to make the stars dancing in front of her eyes go away.

"I didn't mean to startle you, I just - "

"Cedric?" Hermione's heart twisted happily. "What are you doing up here on the seventh floor?" she asked.

Cedric looked a tad uncomfortable. "Well, class was over... and I, you know..." he ran his hand through his hair and then let his arm flop to his side. "Truth is, I came to talk to you."

"To me? But how'd you know I'd be here? In the hall, and not in the Common Room, I mean?"

Cedric shrugged sheepishly. "I didn't. I figured I get to that when I got here, if you weren't here. So, to answer your question, I got lucky."

"Oh."

There was a short, awkward silence before Cedric cleared his throat and spoke again. "Anyway, what I came to talk to you about was - " he glanced around for a pair of chairs - "the other day."

Hermione gulped. What was she going to say to explain the way she'd gone on about things Cedric thought didn't exist or never happened? She said nothing, truly not knowing what to say.

Cedric bit his lip, the expression on his face revealing he'd been expecting a similar response - or lack of one. He spotted a red couch not too far down the hall and motioned for Hermione to follow.

She reluctantly followed, her brain working madly. She didn't know what to say or how to act. Act like she didn't know what he was talking about? Act like she didn't know what she was talking about? Be angry for asking? Walk away? Change the subject? Burst into tears? Tell the truth?

Telling the truth appealed to her the most, as she felt strangely compelled to tell him everything. But it also seemed the option least likely to go over well.

The two of them sat and Cedric wasted no time. "So?" he prodded. "What happened the other day? In the library?"

He didn't need to clarify, she already knew what he meant. "I don't know what to tell you." she said, her voice barely audible, and indeed that was the truth.

"Tell me what happened. What were you talking about? None of it made any sense. It was weird." Cedric said quietly, his voice full of concern.

Hermione sighed and stared at the armrest. What should she tell him? 'Tell the truth.' Part of her said. 'What have you got to lose?' She almost agreed, but for the other part of her saying something completely different. 'Get out of this situation.' The other part of her said. 'He'll never believe the truth.'

She slowly met his eyes. "You wouldn't believe me, Cedric. You really wouldn't."

"Sure I will! How crazy can it be?" he said encouragingly.

She half-smiled and averted her eyes again. She was quiet for several seconds, battling internally on whether to spill or not.

"Hermione? I'll listen." Cedric said and gently took her hand.

She wanted to believe he would listen. She really did. But the gesture of him suddenly holding her hand caught her completely off-guard and her heart sped up. She liked the sensation that was now shooting up her arm... But Ron's red face and the two of them walking by the Burrow entered her head and she suddenly felt guilty holding Cedric's hand and pulled away.

"Maybe some other time." she said and stood.

Cedric looked confused and stood also. "Please tell me. I want to know. I will believe you."

She shook her head and her stomach felt queasy for some reason. "Someday." she took a breath to steady her wobbly knees. "Just please go."

"Hermione?" he looked hurt, and it made her feel hurt just looking at him.

"It's not your fault, really it isn't." she tried to explain. "I'll tell you someday. But please, just go." she said pleadingly and mentally forced herself not to tear up. 'You have no reason to cry over this.' she thought. 'You're doing the right thing. He wouldn't believe you anyways.'

Cedric's shoulders seemed to sag and he sort of nodded. He said nothing and began to trudge back down the hall away from the Fat Lady's portrait, towards the staircase, away from Hermione.

He didn't look back.

A/n: Don't be too mad at me - it's not MY fault Hermione couldn't tell Cedric the truth right then! (Okay, I guess it is, because I wrote it, but - you know what I mean!)