Hermione had hardly seen Harry and Ron all week, and she was worried they would blame her for it.
She rushed through the darkened halls of Hogwarts, heading for the Divination tower. Her to-do list in her pocket began to wiggle, and she knew she was already late.
She didn't know why Harry had asked to meet in such a secret place, but it would be the perfect opportunity to tell him about what she had overheard in Snape's office… and the mysterious man she had seen, though briefly.
Hermione finally puffed her way to the top of the tower. Her summer had not involved running up and down Hogwarts endless myriad of stairs and hallways, and so she was still breathing heavily when she entered the Divination Room and saw Harry sitting with Ron at one of the divination tables. It was late at night, and the room was dark save for a few candles hovering over the table. The light flickered over their faces as they spoke to each other quietly.
Her heart gave a brief flutter when she saw Ron in the soft candlelight; his soft red hair was lit like flames and she could pick out each gold, red, and orange undertone. She squashed the feeling mercilessly. He was still dating Lavender, and Hermione was no home-wrecker.
She sat down between her two best friends and immediately got down to business.
"Listen, I was going to Snape's office a couple days ago, and I overheard something suspicous."
Ron opened his mouth but Harry cut in first, giving him a sharp look. "What did you hear?"
"He was talking to someone I have never seen before. There's something Snape is supposed to do, like a task. I don't know what, but it seemed important."
"A mysterious task," Harry said thoughtfully, looking slightly over at Ron. "Sounds like something we should look into, especially concerning Snape. Did you happen to see the stranger?"
"He had orange hair - like your hair, Ron - and spoke in an accent. It might have been Irish, but I'm not sure. I'm really concerned about what they were saying. Do you remember what happened last year when Dumbledore almost died?"
Ron was looking at her with fear in his eyes, and Hermione immediately patted him reassuringly. "We don't even know what this task is yet, Ron, no need to assume trouble. And we know that Dumbledore is safe now, far away from Hogwarts. But I think we need to keep an eye on Snape, don't you? Ron? Harry?"
Hermione realized Ron wasn't moving, just staring at her with a terrified expression, and she pulled out her wand and poked him. "Have you been cursed with the petrificus totalus?" she teased. "I know the counter-curse if-"
"No!" Harry interrupted, taking a hold of Hermione's wand-holding hand. "We just have some news to tell you."
Ron swallowed. "That's right," he whispered. "Some news."
Hermione looked back and forth cautiously. "News more important than Snape's new mystery project?" She used air quotes around the word "project".
"I think you're right, Hermione," Harry said, thoughtfully touching his chin. "Snape could be doing something very dangerous, and one of us has to keep a close eye on him."
"It really would be better if we all kept an eye out. Thee heads are better than one."
"We're leaving." Ron sputtered out, and then closed his mouth tightly.
"Oh? Where are we going?"
"What Ron means to say," Harry said in a calming voice he might have used with a fussy owl, "Is that Ron and I are leaving Hogwarts this year." Hermione's eye's narrowed and Harry began to stumble over his words. "Dumbledore has asked us... he sent us an owl, you see... and he has given us a... well, a mission. Something to help fight Voldemort."
"Just…you and Ron?" Hermione asked.
"Yes," Harry said while Ron nodded vigorously.
Hermione thought a moment, and then burst into laughter. She laughed heartily, trying to imagine Ron and Harry off fighting the dark arts without her. Neither Ron nor Harry joined in. Her laugh faded, and real fear crept into her stomach.
Perhaps they weren't joking.
"But…what about your studies? You have to get prepare for your N.E.W.T.S. You have to get your training for when you graduate Hogwarts."
"Ron and I have made our decision," Harry told her firmly. "We have to do this. We need to defeat Voldemort."
Both boys had a solemn tilt to their mouths. Suddenly, Hermione thought they looked much older to her. Perhaps she hadn't looked that closely in the past few years, but the change was suddenly apparent. They were no longer the children that had saved her from the troll in first year, stupidly and heroicly jamming a wand into the creatures eye. Harry's hair had grown long and his shoulder's had widened, though he sat hunched as though he felt the weight of the world pulling him down. And Ron, not handsome but gangly and freckled, still showed his emotions with fearless abandon. She wished those emotions didn't include fear as often as it did these days.
"Okay," she nodded, mentally putting the conversation she had heard in Snape's office aside. "When do we leave?"
Harry and Ron looked at each other guiltily. She sensed bad news, and jumped ahead of them before they could speak, anticipating and dreading their words.
"I'm you're best friend. I'm smarter than both of you, and I know textbook spells to fight the Dark Arts," Hermione pointed out, using her finger to emphasize her points. "Clearly, it would be in both of your best interests if I came along."
"You are our best friend, that's true," Harry replied. "As as our best friend, we need you to do what's best for you. And that means you need to use your brain to make the world better."
"What better way than to use my brain to defeat Voldemort?" Hermione asked. She could feel her voice getting higher pitched, her heart rate speeding up in her chest. But she couldn't stop it. Her mind whirred quickly, ticking through her options, but seemed to be stuck on a broken record of thoughts. This couldn't be happening. They wouldn't leave her. She wasn't ready to be alone.
"Your…your N.E.W.T.S.," Ron said finally. "We can't ask you to leave Hogwarts when your education is more important to you than anything. We won't ask you." Harry nodded in agreement, and even tried to smile at her.
"My education!" Hermione repeated in a half shout, jumping to her feet. Behind her, her chair tilted over with the sudden movement and crashed to the floor, causing both Harry and Ron to jump slightly. Hermione didn't flinch. Instead, she stared down her friends. She wasn't going to beg them to bring her. They had been close for years. My education over my best friends, she thought to herself in disgust. I would never choose that. She was sure Harry and Ron knew her better than that. They were the only people in her life who should know better than that.
They said nothing to her.
Hermione felt as though hours had dragged by, and finally she had to fill the space with the sound of her voice. "If that is what you boys have decided is the most important thing to me, than who am I to argue." As she left the room, she wondered if she would ever be able to forgive them.
Hermione woke up the next morning determined to find Harry and Ron and apologize. She had simmered in anger most of the night, tossing and turning in her bed, unable to think of a logical reason behind their behavior. Still, it had taken her until morning - after her temper had cooled - when she realized there was likely something her friends weren't telling her. The pieces of the puzzle just weren't lining up right.
She should at least give them the chance. She had to believe their friendship was better than this.
She dressed quickly and rushed to the Gryffindor common room. The only person there was Neville Longbottom, looking pale and upset. She started towards the entrance to the boy's dormitory when Neville's voice called after her.
She turned, and Neville was holding out an envelope in a shaking hand. "Harry asked me to give you this," he told her.
"When did you talk to Harry?" Hermione muttered, more to herself than to Neville.
She tore open the letter as Neville slumped back into an armchair with a shrug.
As she read it, she felt her heart drop into her stomach.
Ron and Harry had already left Hogwarts.
It happened sometime between last night and this morning. She had no idea where they had gone. Ron and Harry left before she had discovered the real reason behind their decision.
A small voice told Hermione they could have talked last night, if Hermione had not lost her temper and stormed off. If she never knew why they had left her behind, it was her own fault.
For the first time in a long time, Hermione felt a bit lost, a bit like she felt in her first year of Hogwarts. Friendless. She did not welcome the feeling. It made her feel helpless, even when her brain told her she was strong and capable.
Well, she was no longer ten years old. Hermione put the note in her pocket and thanked Neville for the delivery. She had survived as a girl, so she would survive now. Hermione retrieved her scrolls and quills and then left for the library, hoping to lose herself in good, honest schoolwork.
In the library, she retrieved the books she needed, but after an hour had passed she realized she had read the same paragraph six times. Her brain wasn't working like it should. It was the atmosphere, she decided. Even the library reminded her of Harry and Ron, and her mind couldn't focus on anything but worrying over them.
Determined to get at least some work done before lunch, she piled all of her books together and left, pausing momentarily before heading to the Head Common Room. Normally she avoided the room like the plague, not wanting to be near Malfoy. But with his derelict habits, she doubted he would be up and about this early on a Saturday morning.
Hermione walked into the Common Room and dropped her books down on the carved wooden desk. A strangled snort came from the area of the couch and there was the hard thump of a glass bottle hitting the thick rug.
She almost apologized for waking up whoever was sleeping there before she realized there was only one other person who had access to the Head Common Room. Her mouth clapped shut. To satisfy her own simmering anger, she thumped her last book on the desktop with extra vehemence. Just let Draco try and pick a fight this morning.
Two blue eyes peered over the top of the couch and glared over at Hermione, sleep still creasing their corners.
"Fuck, Granger. Keep it down, would you?" He spoke in a low growl and cradled his head in his hands.
"You look wretched." It gave Hermione a fleeting moment of satisfaction.
Draco eyed her through the spaces between his fingers. "What are you doing here?"
Hermione sniffed and tossed her nose up. "Homework." She sat down facing away from him and opened her books.
Draco sneered at the brown mass of hair that now faced him. Why the shit was she here?
He moved to stand and was almost overwhelmed by a wave of dizziness; then an urge to vomit swamped his senses. Still, Draco slowly lifted himself to his feet. Granger was here, watching. Besides, he didn't drink often. And when he did, he knew how to handle himself.
He just had to drag himself back to his room, where he could make his usual hang over remedy of raw eggs mixed with a special herb Blaise liked to grow in his dorm; perhaps alongside a steaming cup of tea.
His mind drifted back to Granger, her ridiculous billowing hair invading what was supposed to be his one private solace in Hogwarts. A deep resentment burrowed deeper into his chest and he glared at the back of her head menacingly.
Through the years, Granger had a nasty habit of ruining everything.
And he wanted to punish her.
"I wouldn't turn your back on me, if I were you," he said to the silent room. He picked up his empty bottle of Firewhiskey and peered in hopefully. "I find myself in a tortuous mood this morning."
Hermione scoffed but did not move.
Draco took out his wand and twirled it between his fingers. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
He spoke a spell and suddenly Hermione's pile of books turned into a writhing mass of wet frogs.
"What?!" Hermione was startled out of her chair and fell in a graceless heap on the floor, her chair lying on its back next to her.
Draco laughed so hard he felt a cramp in his side. His hangover made laughing almost unpleasant, but he couldn't help himself. Hermione was the picture of idiocy, and it was a perfect moment. He felt immensely cheered.
Hermione stood calmly, brushed off her school uniform - she was not wearing her robes since it was a Saturday - and used her wand to spell the frogs back into books.
She then turned to Draco and pointed her wand directly at him. He was pleased to notice that despite her outward calm, her hands were quivering in anger and her eyes glinted at him like sharp shards of amber.
He crossed his arms over his chest and waited for her next move.
"What," she spoke quietly, "is your fucking problem?" Draco raised his eyebrows at her curse. "I am not bothering you. I simply wanted a quiet room to ..." she trailed off before finishing in a huff "... get away."
Interesting.
"My problem, Princess Perfect, is I was under the impression that the Common Room belonged to me." He gave her the nickname with a sharp side of sarcasm. "I would like to continue that plan. Please leave."
"No." He waited, but she said nothing else.
"Are you picking a fight with me?" Draco's eyes narrowed and his heartbeat sped up. "I wouldn't recommend it."
"Should I be afraid of a few frogs?" Hermione's hair almost crackled with her challenge.
Draco regarded her cooly. "You should be afraid of me." Obviously.
Hermione laughed. She actually bloody laughed in his face. Then, without another word, she turned her back on him, again, and sat back down, ostensibly to continue her now-restored homework.
He felt as though he was boiling in anger. His face felt red, and his hands shook. How dare she laugh at him.
He moved to stand directly behind her, intimidating her with his presence. She didn't flinch. He bent over her, and with one hand he touched her cheek softly, then moved to tuck her hair behind her ear. His other hand suddenly jammed his wand into her side, and he was rewarded with her sharp intake of breath.
"So this is how it's going to be?" he whispered. "Once I am done, you will be trembling in fear. And there will be no Harry or Ron around to save you."
The taunt left a sweet taste in his mouth.
"Well," Hermione whispered back. "At least I don't continue to rely on a father who's still in Azkaban for attacking children."
Draco almost frowned as the memory of his newest project assaulted his mind. He had managed to forget about the debacle concerning his father since he had woken up. Granger had completely distracted him.
"Go fuck a wand, Granger," Draco muttered darkly, and stalked out of the room. He had better things to do today.