"That's his what!" Ron's mouth dropped so hard Harry heard something pop. Hermione heard it too, because she looked over at Ron and sneered.

"That's a disgusting habit, Ron."

Ron glared at her, rubbing his jaw. "Not funny." He looked back at Harry eagerly. "Was she really as hot as they all said she-"

"Ron!"

Hermione stood up and slapped him full across the face. Ron recoiled from the blow. He stared up in shock at Hermione, who stood over him, eyes blazing.

"You sick, perverted, heartless little…" With each word her hand came down again, slapping him relentlessly. "How dare you… you…" Ron curled up in a ball to avoid her blows, shouting for help as she struck him.

"Whoa, hold it. Ow! Cripes!"

"…I'm going to… Harry let me go!"

Harry had leapt to his feet and grabbed her around the waist, lifting her up and pulling her off of Ron. Some of the other Gryffindors in the room rushed over, with some going to Ron, and with some helping Harry subdue Hermione. She was putting up a heck of a struggle, lashing out at anyone within range as she continued yelling at Ron, her voice now close to shrieking levels.

"Don't you ever even think about… I swear I'll beat you senseless… Let me go!"

Harry let Hermione go as a crowd of Gryffindors descended on her, pinning her arms to her sides. He maneuvered around in front of her and put his hands on her shoulders.

"Hermione, calm down. It's me, Harry."

She ignored him, staring instead at Ron, who was slowly lifting his arms off of his head, breathing hard and quaking in fear. She hissed at him and jerked forward, breaking the grip of the others. Harry caught her as she tried to bowl past him and held her at arms length.

"Hermione, listen to me. Snap out of it."

She stopped suddenly, so suddenly that Harry, who had been pushing against her, stumbled forward. Still glaring at Ron, she took long, deep breaths. Ron was staring at her with a look of astonishment and horror.

"That… that scumbag…" Her voice trailed off as Harry shifted his head to block her view. Hermione gave one last frustrated sigh and collapsed in Harry's arms, burying her head on his shoulder. Harry's stomach gave a lurch and he shuddered. Vaguely aware of the looks from the others, he steered her towards the girls' stairway. She didn't resist, but let him guide her without a word. She backed away from him when they reached the stairwell, her eyes red and puffy. His hand fell gently down her arm, giving her a comforting squeeze when it reached her hand.

"Get some sleep, Hermione. I'll deal with this."

Hermione nodded mutely and walked up the stairs without saying goodbye. Harry stared after her, wishing that the giddy feeling in his stomach would go away. Holding her like that… he wished it had been under different circumstances. As Harry turned back to face the common room, he heard her choking back a sob. Suppressing a sigh, Harry shook his head to clear it and walked back into the commons room. Ignoring the stares and questions from the others, he headed straight to Ron.

Ron's face was a mess of welts and bruises. Harry was surprised to see something that looked like nail marks stretching from one side of his face to his nose, leaving three pink lines on his face. He stared wide-eyed at Harry, shaking his head and muttering, "She's bloody mental," over and over again.

Harry gripped Ron by the arm and stood him up. Ron teetered unsteadily and Seamus grabbed his other arm. "Where to, Harry?" he asked.

"Madame Pompfrey's, where else?" Harry started off towards the door and Seamus followed. There were few people in the hallway, since most were either in the library or in their dorms, studying and doing homework. They made most of the trip in silence, Ron in too much pain to speak, Harry too distracted to answer anything. He was trying to focus on getting to the hospital wing. The feeling of holding Hermione like that though, it made him feel…Like what? He wondered. What's going on? She's my friend, nothing more. But why do I feel so strange?

"So," Seamus said as they neared the hospital wing. "What'd Ron do the make Hermione flip like that? She was looked near ready to bust a cap on him as I've ever seen."

Ron grunted, and Harry saw that he was frowning at the floor, keen to forget the incident. Harry didn't blame him. Just looking at Ron's face made Harry wince.

Harry felt a twinge of regret as he looked at Ron's bloodied face. He did deserve it, part of him argued. What he said was pretty insensitive. As much as he felt that Ron was at fault though, he could not deny that Hermione's reaction was ridiculous. Why did Hermione find that so insulting? Sure it was not nice, but she hates Vandermine. How could she care for his wife when she hated him so much. He did not want to blame either of them. They were his two closest friends, after all.

"'M not sure, really," he lied. "Wasn't paying too much attention. I think that she is just stressed out from classes."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Seamus chuckled. "She's got how many classes?"

"Too many." Harry sighed with relief when the hospital entrance came into view. Ron was heavier than he looked.

They dropped Ron off in the hospital wing and Harry hurried back to the dorm to get his broom. As he picked it up, he realized how long they had until dinner. It felt like hours had passed since he had gone to Vandermine's office, but really it had only been about thirty minutes. Brushing off the thought, he grabbed his Quidditch stuff and hurried down to the field.

Practice was horrible. A moderate rain had fallen, leaving visibility low and chilling him to the bone. Harry tried hard to keep track of the Snitch, but every time he got close to it, the image of the Snitch was replaced by Hermione's tearstained face. It shook him when this happened, so much that, after missing the Snitch five times in a row, Oliver Wood pulled him aside, angrily berating him for playing sloppy.

"Just 'cause you're the Seeker doesn't mean you can dawdle the whole bloody practice like it's a picnic. Get your head in the game!" He stormed off back to the goal, leaving Harry standing on the ground muttering excuses. It didn't help that Fred and George had heard about the incident in the dorm already, and were ribbing Harry mercilessly about it.

"Oi, Harry, how's the runt doing?" Fred shouted cheerfully as he sped by Harry, intercepting a Bludger and knocking it back away from the field with such force that it sailed nearly out of sight into the clouds.

By the time practice was over, Harry was tired, soaked and feeling depressed. He changed in the dorm and trudged down to the Hall for dinner, pointedly avoiding the others on the team. A couple other third-years tried to get his attention, but he warned them off with a glare. They retreated from his furious gaze and hung back a few steps, whispering to each other about his bad mood. He did not care.

The sight that greeted him when he entered the Hall did nothing to lighten his mood. Hermione sat alone in the far corner of the Gryffindor table. Word of the fight must have already spread across school. The other Gryffindors were giving her a wide berth as they took their seats for the meal. Malfoy and his gang were pointing and laughing at her, making exaggerated punching motions in the air every time she looked up from her plate. Harry suppressed the urge to draw his wand and shuffled past them, ears burning at the wolf whistles that followed him as he walked over to Hermione. He slid into the spot beside her and cast her a quick glance to see how she was.

If anything, she looked worse than she had when Harry had left her at the stairwell to the bedroom. Her eyes were bloodshot and she stared blankly at the plate in front of her, oblivious to the tempting aroma of food that wafted around them. He helped himself to a roll off of one of the platters.

"So… how are you feeling, Hermione?"

"Terrible." Her voice cracked when she spoke. Harry looked at her again and saw that she was close to tears. "I don't know what came over me. Is, is he all right?"

"Yeah. Shouldn't be in the hospital for more than a day. It'll take a some time for the bruises to die down."

"I guess I should go apologize then."

Harry did not answer, but passed her a platter of food. "Go ahead and eat something, Hermione. You aren't looking well."

Hermione reluctantly took a salad and poked at it with her fork. "I don't feel so well either. I feel like I am going to throw up."

"Well, just remember to throw up that way." He pointed over at the Slytherin table. Hermione looked up and ducked her head down again as Malfoy made another swinging motion with his fist. Harry heard a choked sob and winced. "Sorry, I thought that that would-"

"It's fine. He's right anyway."

"No he's not. The prick is just trying to get to you."

"It's working."

"Not if you don't let it. Come on, cheer up. Ron will be fine. You just need some food and rest."

Hermione gave no indication that she heard him. She continued staring down at the salad, picking at individual pieces with her fork. "I suppose you want to know why I did it."

"Um… I guess, if you want to tell me."

She let out a sigh and straightened, "She was murdered, burned alive from what the reports said. She did one of the most horrible deaths I can think of, and Ron treated it like a joke."

Harry swallowed hard, trying to imagine the pain, "That's horrible."

"It gets worse, trust me." Hermione rose from her seat and motioned to Harry. "Follow me."

Harry got up and followed her as they headed out of the Hall. She led him to the library, as he expected.

Before they could get to the door though, Malfoy appeared, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle. He sneered at them, wand twirling in his hand idly.

"So Potter, got yourself a girlfriend? Not much of a surprise that you went for a Mudblood, is it? Are you sure it's a good idea? She might sock you one in the face when you aren't looking, you know."

Harry did not see who went for the wand faster, him or Hermione. All he knew was that Malfoy was suddenly pinned against the door, two wands at his throat. Malfoy's eyes shot wide in alarm and he opened his mouth to call for help, but Hermione jabbed her wand into his throat, causing him to choke.

"Say it again, Malfoy, I dare you." Hermione's eyes were blazing just like they had back in the dormitory. Harry wondered for a second if she would actually curse him.

"Wands down, now!" Stringer came running down the hall, eyes set on Hermione. She lifted her own wand and Harry and Hermione were knocked back a foot. Harry stumbled on his robe, but managed to stay on his feet. Hermione, who had not noticed Stringer's arrival, tripped and fell on Harry. He caught her and helped her back to her feet in time to see Stringer round on them.

"What's the meaning of this? Potter, explain now."

Harry stuttered and started to speak, but Hermione cut him off.

"It was nothing, Miss Stringer. It will not happen again."

Kathryn Stringer looked from Harry to Draco and scowled. "Fine. Make sure it doesn't happen again. Draco, leave."

Draco nodded grudgingly and stalked off, followed by a confused Crabbe and Goyle. Stringer watched them until they rounded the corner and turned to Harry and Hermione.

"You two have got to control your tempers better around that brat."

Harry gaped at her. He had never seen an adult talk so bluntly about someone like that.

"And cheer up, for gosh sakes, Hermione. It's not like the world is going to end because you vented your anger for once."

Hermione nodded mutely, casting Harry a bewildered glance. He returned it, much to the amusement of Kathryn. She smiled at them and opened the door to the library.

"Have fun, you two."

Hermione pulled Harry into the library by his arm. Her face was flushed as she moved quickly to an abandoned corner of the library. She pulled a couple newspaper clippings out of her bag and set them on the table.

"You want to know why I hate him so much, right? This is why." She slammed the clippings down in front of Harry, eyes watering. "Look at what that monster has done."

Harry gingerly accepted the clippings and read them. Each one was a report about a murder committed by Vandermine. Harry read through fifteen of them before stopping. He looked up at Hermione's expecting face and shrugged.

"Sounds like they were all Death Eaters to me. I don't see what's wrong about it."

Hermione glared at him and handed him a final clipping. "Then read this."

Harry took the paper and did a double take at the picture on it. It showed Lucas Vandermine facing off against a horde of Aurors, and behind his back, cowering against his shoulder, was…

"Bellatrix Lestrange." Harry sank back in his seat, his stomach churning like a grenade had gone off in it.

"Don't you dare tell me that he is a 'good guy' now." Hermione pointed to the date on it. "Two days after she tortured the Longbottoms. He defended her from the Aurors that had come to arrest her."

Harry swallowed hard and dropped the paper. "Then, what about Neville? He treats Neville like…"

"Who knows?" Hermione looked at a clock on the wall and rose, gathering the papers and stuffing them into a pocket in her bag. "Time to go to bed. See you later, Harry."