Disclaimers of two sorts: 1) I own nothing, sadly, except for copies of the books and a copy of the Philosopher's Stone in Ancient Greek, and 2) there is a small section of smut ahead if you don't like. It's quite obvious when it starts, so skim over it if you don't want to read it. Just don't complain about not knowing, because I have warned you!

Enjoy!

Chapter 19

Head Held High

The discussion took place as she gently healed his wounds, not quite pressing her wand on the red and raw blisters, and as Luna took care of making hot cocoa for the cold and exhausted group. There were tears, it was always a given when one realized that they had to send a friend away because they weren't healthy anymore. There were some arguments, mostly raised by Harry, when she professed the guilt she felt behind Ron's mental state, and a lot of words of compassion and ease.

It took longer than expected, yet not as long as she feared, and soon enough the mud had dried and cracked off, to Draco's annoyance, the clothes had dried, and minds had finally eased. It was with a much calmer heart that Hermione was able to bade farewell to her friends and then, with much regained force, be able to drag Draco to the Hospital Wing in order to get the rest of his wound cleaned and properly healed. It was well after nightfall that she was able to finally collapse on the couch, throwing her shoes off at the door and tossing her outer-wear all over the place while Draco slouched on the armchair.

"Today was…"

"Horrible," he finished on a groan.

"I'm exhausted," she breathed, closing her eyes as she threw an arm on her face. "I almost forgot how draining dueling was."

"I think we need to start working out more," he answered. "We had more stamina during the war."

That was different, was what she wanted to say. But she knew that today, the situation at the pitch, had been no different than fighting Death Eaters. Ron had been aiming to harm and kill, completely lost in his broken mind.

"Next week," she said, pushing into a sitting position as her stomach growled; she hadn't eaten anything since breakfast before the match and a couple of the small cookies Luna had found to put with the cocoa. "Right now, I want to have supper, a shower, and sleep."

He made a sound of agreement, shifting in his chair as she moved to the kitchen, snapping for him to get off his arse and help her out.

After much discussion, they finally had a small but satisfying dinner in sleepy silence, both too tired for words. As she cleaned the dishes, she jumped a the sound of a sudden, loud thunk. She spun around in time to watch as Draco dropped his second leg protector onto the carpet with as much joy as tossing the trash.

Scowling at the mess of mud on the ground, she pointed a soap-coated fork in his direction. "You're cleaning that mess up," she scolded, tossing the fork back into the sink before it dripped all over the floor.

"Yes, my almighty Queen and overlord," he responded with added pomp and circumstance, making sure to bow extra low.

In the time that it took her to finish the dishes, he had stripped off most of his gear and was making his way up the stairs. At the base, she called up to him, stopping him in his tracks. "Would you mind some company?"

His smirk was more than enough for an answer.

The shower was already running by the time she managed to gather a towel, strip down, and step into the bathroom, condensation growing on the mirror and steam rising to dance at the ceiling from the heat. Placing her towel on the rack next to the stall, she slipped into the shower behind him, reaching out to press her naked body against his in the rawest, most exposed and open hug she had ever experienced. It tugged at her heart and made her blood rush. Pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades, please that the wound was already healed from Pomfrey's magical skill, she tickled his stomach with her fingers before pulling away.

Turning around, he looked down at her, lifting a hand to brush his thumb against her cheek, one of the most intimate and gentle touches he had ever done with her. Intimacy, she had quickly learned, was not based around how sexual the action was, but how much tenderness and love was raw and surfacing when the action was performed. At this moment, the raw love in his eyes made this situation the most intimate in her entire life.

Pressing a kiss to his palm, she allowed herself to be pulled into his arms for a tight embrace, resting her head on his shoulder as the hot water beat down on their bodies, hair sticking to one another's skin.

Smiling, she pulled back and squeezed his hand. "So, how about you wash my back and I was yours?" she asked softly reaching for the shampoo.

Gently, tenderly, they massaged each other's scalps with shampoo covered hands, easing away any threatening headaches with nimble fingers. Slowly, they explored and massaged each other's bodies, squeezing and easing away knots of tension, putting subtle amounts of pressure on particularly sensitive points. Their skin prickled, over sensitized from the water, from the close proximity and each other's touches, and soon enough each touch cause an instant jerk in response as a prickling sensation crawled over their flesh.

She moved first, one of the few and rare times she dared initiate a kiss. Her lips tenderly brushed against his, barely needing to touch in order to get a groan out of him. He shuddered as her nipples, hard and flushed, tickled his chest, dancing along his skin as her lips skimmed over his.

In the shower, surrounded by the steam, the heat, and the rushing water, they found each other. They gently pressed and probed, kissed and touched as they slowly pushed towards a higher, better peak. The touches pushed the woes and pains out of their bodies, while the water washed them down the drain. It was slowly, sweet and tender, soft passion that slowly rose as their hearts ached and beat faster and faster.

The cool tiles against her back were a sharp contrast compared to his flushed body and hot water, sending frissons of pleasure racing through her body, nails digging into his shoulders in response. Suddenly, swiftly, almost unexpectedly, her warm heat enveloped his, closing around him like her arms around his body, clinging feverishly to him. Each movement was smooth and liquid, each caress growing hotter and heavier as they moved in unison, aching, needing, and running towards the final climax.

It was as though every knot in their bodies loosened as once, euphoria washing over them as they arched and twisted, electric heat bathing and consuming them as they suddenly stopped, reveling in the feeling of the sensual implosion taking place within their bodies. They clung to one another, yearning for more yet afraid to feel more, digging and clawing, gasping and whispering, touching and kissing as pleasure consumed them.

Slowly they unraveled as a pure calmness slid over them, sliding down with each water droplet slipping down their flushed flesh. A relaxed, loose feeling swept over them, and as they finished up and clambered out, each movement felt difficult yet easy, as though weighed down by their bodies heavy with exhaustion, yet not inhibited by tightened, stiff muscles.

Naked and shivering, they slid into her bed, pressing against one another for heat, trying to shove the gooseflesh and possible nightmares away. Pressing her face on his chest, eyes shut, she reveled in the sound of his breathing, slowing down as sleep overtook him, enjoying the feeling of his skin against hers and the feel of his breath tickling her neck.

Smiling softly, she knew, perhaps realizing for the first time, that no matter what happened, no matter how hard life could be, she would always be able to feel loving warmth and security in his arms. He would keep her safe, and she promised to herself that she would try to keep him safe.

Chuckling at the clichéd romanticism of it all, the last thoughts on her mind before drifting off was that, no matter how hard the situation was, love could and would conquer all.

A loud scream tore through the quiet dungeons, sending any small rodents nearby squealing in fear at the rage behind the sound. Loud, wild crashing followed the shriek, glass shattering and wood cracking as the source of the sound tore apart a lone, unused Potions room. At the doorway to said room stood two girls, staying well out of the way of the flying objects, impatient, irritated, and fearful that if the wrong word was said, the next thing being levitated and thrown could be them.

Another scream echoed and the duo at the door looked at each other, trying hard to ignored the shouted curses and expletives to listen for any sign of a Prefect or Professor; as much as they were all for supporting and helping their friend when she was clearly going through some personal problems, they were not in the mood to be given detention for something they weren't participating in.

"That fucking witch," the girl in the room snarled, swishing her wand, making a table suddenly snap in half. "Can you believe it? Can you fucking believe it?"

Unfortunately, Daphne could. She wasn't too sure about Maryse, her companion at the door, but Daphne Greengrass was more than ready to believe what she had seen a few hours ago. It had taken some time to hunt down her friend, after Pansy had run cursing and screaming from the pitch after the fight had broken up; Pansy, in her Death Eater training, had been the one in charge of finding all of Hogwarts' little niches and secrets that few students knew about. Astoria had given up about halfway through the search, saying something about a certain Ravenclaw who wanted to show her the ultimate pleasure.

Daphne never could understand the reason behind her sister's promiscuity, but for the sake of avoiding arguments, she never bothered to mention it to her parents; she merely kept it filed away to be used as blackmail.

For the time being, however, she kept watch at the door, rolling her eyes every time Maryse jumped at the sound of something big crashing in the room. Honestly, it was better to stay quiet and let Pansy rant and rave.

"I can't…did you see that? Did you see what the fucking bitch did? She…she…she fucking kissed him!" The words were ended with another loud crash as an empty pickling jar made its way to the unused fireplace, glass glittering on the stone floor. "She kissed him!" she repeated, voice higher, shriller, as if every time she repeated it, she felt more shock and more rage.

Daphne felt Pansy was being a little too melodramatic, but, it was Pansy after all and the girl thrived on dramatics and gossip. After watching a weird Muggle high school movie, Daphne figured Pansy would be the 'popular' girl nobody really liked that wanted everything and had the worst attitude in the whole of London.

Daphne was not sure why she put up with Pansy anymore; it felt like the only reason she stayed was because of their long friendship and she wanted to know what the conniving girl was planning next. Just in case.

"I can't fucking believe it!" Pansy said, ending on a loud scream before turning to the desk, breaking into quarters with several slashing movements of her wand.

"So then, do something about it."

The girls at the door turned to see Astoria coming out from a side passage, clothes loosely fumbled together, blouse badly buttoned as though she had been in a rush to leave the poor Ravenclaw boy. Perhaps her quest for ultimate pleasure had ended in ultimate disappointment.

"Well that was quick," Maryse quipped with a half smile. "What, did he come to early or was he too small?"

"Honestly," Astoria scoffed, unbuttoning her shirt in order to properly fix it, "he was terrible. I faked the whole way through. And you know what they say about big hands and feet? Well, in his case at least, it's a lie." Yawning, she stepped into the doorway as her blouse fell open, exposing herself for the world to see. But then again, that was Astoria; unashamed and quiet the opposite of quiet, calm Daphne. "So, Pansy, Muddie kissed Draco. What are you going to do? Are you just going to spend your days finding other classrooms to destroy or are you going to do something about it?"

Pansy stopped in her tracks, sending glares of various severity to Astoria as the speaker began buttoning her blouse and fixing her clothes. "Obviously I plan on doing something about it," the dark-haired harpy snapped, shoving her wand into the pocket of her jeans.

Daphne hated to admit it, but thank Circe that Astoria had shown up. While her sister was conniving, cruel, and very much like the sirens of Homer's The Odyssey, she knew what words would be able to calm Pansy when she was caught up in a rage.

"Then what?" Astoria asked, crossing her arms to lean against the doorframe. It was strange, when Astoria first joined them, she was like an eager minion, excited at the prospect of Hermione and letting Pansy take the reins. Suddenly, almost as though spending time with Pansy had shaped and shifted her personality; she had become smoother, darker, and crueler, slowly taking the reins from Pansy in order to take over control. It was strange; the youngest Greengrass girl was failing in school, but quickly learning what it took to become a venomous, manipulative siren. Daphne's grandmother would have been proud.

"I…I don't know yet," Pansy fumbled, the rage lightening just the slightest, giving way to a dim realizing that, in spite of all of her shouting, she had no true plan of action. "But, it will be something big."

Astoria finished tucking her blouse into her jeans, adding the final touches to her outfit before stepping further into the room, gesturing for her sister and Maryse to follow so they could close the door and get some privacy.

"Why not start small?" Maryse suggested hopefully; her time spent with Daphne, discussing Pansy's growing jealousy and Astoria's increasing cruelty in the dark made her slowly realize that she just couldn't side with Pansy for much longer. She didn't fully care for Granger much, more because she was jealous of her grades and her hair; she had always had this plain straight hair and envied Granger's wild curls. But, that was aside the point, because she knew that Pansy was going to take things too far, especially with Astoria leading the way.

"I suppose that could work, "Astoria agreed calmly while Pansy fumed. She wanted something big, extravagant, and some crazy enough that they would terrify the piss out of Granger. "We could transfigure her clothes, mess with her hair, maybe even booby-trap her desks and food."

"What will that accomplish?" Pansy snapped, her eyes were wide in shock at the idea that they would take things so slow.

"First," Astoria explained, waving her wand to fix a desk and plopping her bottom on the top of it, "it will let her know that someone is on to her and that they don't approve. It may seem like little things, but they'll quickly make her life a living hell. Second, we just start small, slowly get bigger and meaner until it's one big bang. We let her get more nervous and upset each day until we finally deal the killing blow." Licking her lips, she crossed her legs and leaned back, putting weight on her arms extended behind her. "Think of it as slowly torturing someone to death."

It took Pansy a moment to catch on, stupid as the girl was, and finally, it was as though a light flicked on in her brain. Daphne and Maryse exchanged worrying glances, knowing that nothing good was about to come out of this. "I like it," she hissed, repairing a desk to use as a chair like Astoria, "I like it a lot."

"Good," the youngest girl answered, reaching up to pull her hair from her face.

Sighing heavily, Daphne gestured for Maryse to follows the other two's actions, repairing instead each a chair before plopping onto them. As much as she wanted to leave, she needed to hear and maybe try to lessen the 'punishment' as much as she could.

"So how do you go about starting this?" Maryse asked, curiosity gnawing at her.

"It's quite simple," Astoria answered. "We do little things to her every day, without her knowing its use, that make her life a living hell. Of course, Pansy will be doing most of it, since she's the best caster out of all of us, and she has the most classes with her."

"I want to put something sticky in her hair," Pansy cackled, grinning maliciously at the thought of Granger having to cut off a huge chunk of her hair.

"Too childish," Astoria replied. "We can do simple stuff, like hiding her notes every time she gets up in class, or maybe casting a tongue-twister curse on her every time she tries to give an answer. You do know how to perform wordless magic, right?"

"Mostly the minor spells," Pansy answered. "I'm terrible at the big ones, but I should be able to cast a tongue-twister curse; it doesn't require much magic."

"Perfect." Astoria let out a soft laugh, one that men might consider sultry and women called unnecessarily sexual, but Daphne found it to be far more terrifying than anything, filled with malice and spite.

She listened as they discussed their plans, almost plotting out every class and every hour of the day, finding numerous ways to torture the unsuspecting Gryffindor girl, and she tried her hardest not to lash out at them for their savagery. It didn't make sense to her; while she knew that Pansy harbored an almost obsessive love for Draco, one he helped fuel for the first four years at Hogwarts, she always thought that the girl had remained relatively realistic about things. Now, however, she was going overboard and it not only grated Daphne's nerves, but it got her on edge, too. She couldn't help but think that, while she felt bad for Granger, she was glad it was someone who was able to stand on her own two feet and fight back. Out of all of the girls in the school, Hermione was unrivaled in skill and expertise; she knew her way around curses and spells like Daphne knew how to guide through a shopping mall. The only ones who came close – yet so far – to matching her were Ginny Weasley and, surprisingly, Luna Lovegood. Aside from them, however, Daphne figured that Pansy wouldn't stand a chance in a duel with Granger.

"So," she asked slowly as the conversation seemed to fade away, "when do you plan on doing all of this?" She needed to know, had to know just how much time she had to try and get them to change their minds. Honestly, shrinking her skirt in the Great Hall? Casting non-removable writing charms on her tables? Dropping firebombs in her cauldron during Potions? This was abuse, and she knew that Granger didn't deserve any of this.

"Probably Monday," Pansy answered with a grin. "That way I have all day tomorrow to practice! Astoria's going to help too, right?"

The youngest member of their group answered with a short nod and a slick smile that said more than words. Daphne was reminded of a pleased and sly serpent, imaging the smile on its face as it slithered in the grass towards unsuspecting prey. She almost expected her sister's tongue to dart out and wiggle, hissing as she tried to taste the scent of her nearing prey.

Her sister, true to her nature, was very much a Slytherin.

"Come now, it's getting late," Pansy suddenly said, jumping to her feet with renewed vigor and excitement."We need to be up bright and early tomorrow to get enough practice in. Daphne and Maryse, I expect you two to be there too." She added to the quieter section of their group.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Daphne gritted out as Maryse nodded, the other three girls getting to their feet and leaving the broken classroom behind.

Slowly shutting the door behind her, Daphne rubbed her stomach, trying to will away the knots forming within her. A part of her knew that she couldn't just sit by and watch as Pansy and Astoria tormented Granger, but she had no idea what they would do to her if they found out she ratted them out. She reminded herself daily that Bellatrix was the one to personally train Pansy and Astoria in the art of interrogation and torture.

Memories flooded back, filled with screams and begging, and she shivering suddenly, trying to will them away.

"Daphne." Pansy's voice suddenly pulled her from her thoughts and she suddenly felt grateful.

"Yes?"

"Where's the Veritaserum you said you would get for us?"

Silence followed, only broken by their footsteps on the stone floor. She bit back a sigh; Pansy had seemed to have forgotten about the Veritaserum for so long that Daphne had hoped she would forget that she had asked for it. From the look her conniving sister sent back to her, she knew that Astoria was the one to remind Pansy of the potion.

"It's in my trunk," Daphne admitted quietly, lowering her voice as they rounded a corner and found themselves in front of the Slytherin entrance.

They kept quiet as Astoria spoke the password, moving their way through the crowded common room. Daphne saw Pansy's hackles raise as a group of students talked avidly about the afternoon's happenings at the Quidditch pitch. It took a calm but firm hand on her shoulder to calm her down enough to prevent another ranting session.

Once in Pansy's Prefect room, strewn on her bed or the carpeted floor, the girls began their discussion again on how to get Granger.

Picking a loose piece of fabric from the carpet, Daphne tried to ignore the conversation. She had a bad feeling about this and she didn't like it one bit. She had to try to communicate in some way to Draco about what was happening…he would help her.

Only if Pansy and Astoria didn't find out that it was her; she would be as dead as Granger.

She stepped out of the Tower that Monday morning expecting the same day as usual. She intended to go down to the Great Hall with her hand clasped in his, reaffirming what they had shown the school on Saturday, then go to class without any problem.

When she didn't expect was, only a few minutes after sitting down for breakfast, her goblet of pumpkin juice to literally explode in a shower of orange liquid.

"What the hell?" she cursed, accepting several napkins from Dean, using them to mop up her face.

"Looks like somebody sent a nice little explosion hex to your pumpkin juice," Seamus said, stating quite the obvious.

Rolling her eyes, she finished soaking up any remaining pumpkin juice from her hair; Hermione leaned forward and examined the remains of the golden goblet. "Obviously," she answered. "I expected to be harassed, but exploding my juice? Honestly, how immature."

"Well, you've pissed off a lot of girls," Dean said.

The twosome were quite calm about the whole situation concerning her and Draco; when she had asked about it a few minutes earlier, they admitted that they had had their suspicions since Christmas dinner. Apparently, they had had a bet going on with a few other students to see how long it would take the couple to come out. It seemed like Neville Longbottom had actually won that one by the ecstatic look on his face and suddenly bulging pockets.

Looking around the Great Hall, she wasn't surprised to see a few shocked faces staring in her directions, and even less surprised to see groups of students huddled together, whispering like buzzing bees about the latest gossip topic. What surprised her the least was the absence of Harry and Ginny; she could only assume that Professor McGonagall had told Ginny about the circumstances and she was currently with her family, with Harry supporting her as best as he could.

It was, she reminded herself, for the best that Ron gets help.

Ron was the other subject of gossip swirling around; she heard hisses of his name, quiet murmurs and muted looks that told her the students were curious about the situation concerning the youngest male Weasley. It seemed like everyone believed that he had been expelled. If only they knew the truth, then that would make a shocking rumour. But anyone who knew about it said nothing; it wasn't fair to Ron or his family.

Post-pumpkin juice incident, it seemed like nothing else wanted to explode from her plate. Standing up and brushing off any extra crumbs, she turned to greet Draco as he came over from the Slytherin table, Blaise following.

It was the sudden shocked look on his face followed by a sudden breeze by her thighs that had her head lowering down. With a loud scream, her hands flew downwards in an attempt to keep as much as her modesty in tack as her skirt suddenly shrank to the size of a large belt. Immediately, she felt eyes on her, boring into her, staring and examining her suddenly exposed lower body.

It was mortifying, it was painful, and it hurt to wonder just what the students thought of her body. She didn't want them to look, didn't want them to see, and certainly did not want to hear their laughter as several students began chuckling loudly throughout the hall. She caught sight of a few looks of pity and sympathy, and she didn't want that either. She just wanted her skirt to go back to its normal size.

Tears pricked at her eyes and she blinked them away, trying her hardest not to cry in embarrassment as Draco slid off his coat and wrapped it around her waist in expert speed and gentleness.

"Fucking bastards," she heard Blaise curse as he looked around the Hall, trying to find the asshole who dared do such a thing.

They quickly managed to make their way out of the Great Hall, with Blaise carrying her books and Draco wrapping her in his arms. She heard footsteps behind her and could only guess that Luna was rushing her way over. She heard the laughter slowly subside with a well done glare by Draco, and she could only feel even more grateful, even though her heart was currently twisting painfully in her chest, memories of her childhood coming back for the first time since her First Year.

She was reminded harshly of the way she had been picked on during primary school, the way the students would pull her hair, push her around, and call her names. She remembered dimly the day when someone decided it would be quite fun to put gum in her hair.

Wiping at her eyes, trying her hardest not to cry over the embarrassment, she allowed Draco to steer her towards a dark corner, where he could unwrap the cloak and keep her decent enough while she restored her skirt to its normal size.

"What kind of bastards would do such a thing?" Blaise cursed again, clearly very unhappy at the thought of his girlfriend's best friend being magically pantsed in front of the entire school.

"I'm going back in there and I'm going to fucking find the bitch who did this, and I'm going to make them fucking pay," Draco snarled.

She looked up and saw the barely restrained fury in his eyes; they were like a quicksilver fire, threatening to overflow and burn anyone who pissed him off even more. She looked down and saw that his hands shook with his anger, the cloak rippling lightly in his grip, and slowly, she felt her humiliation subside and ease into a strange combination of anger and softness, a strange sense of passive-aggressiveness that slowly consumed her body.

"I'm pissed off too," she admitted quietly, speaking for the first time since she let out the loud shriek of shock a few minutes before. "But, please, don't do anything rash." She wanted to calm him down, to avoid any further confrontation, and slowly, she knew that she had to deal with this while keeping her head up. She had been bullied before in the past, hell, Harry Potter, her best male friend in the whole world, had even admitted he greatly disliked her in their First Year. She realized, as the humiliation and anger faded away, that handling the situation using irrational rage would only make things worse. "But," she continued as she placed a hand on Draco's, "we can't give them what they want."

"And that is?" His voice trembled as he spoke, shivering undertones of malice aimed towards the caster.

"They want a reaction," Luna suddenly piped up, cutting off Hermione. For the first time in Hermione's life, she saw something other than the usual aloof expression on the girl's face. Although there were no hard lines of anger, she saw that the girl's eyes had steeled and her face had grown sterner. She, too, was fighting back her rage, and she was doing the best job out of all of them. Hermione couldn't help but feel a little bit happy about that; it meant that Luna truly and honestly cared about her.

"Well I'll give them a fucking reaction," Draco hissed, pulling back on his cloak as Blaise moved to hand Hermione her belongings.

"You can't do this," both girls said in unison, both pushing back their urge to kill in order to push some sense of rationality through the thick fog threatening to blanket their minds.

"They want us angry," Luna said.

"They want me to get upset," Hermione added. "Whoever did this wants a reaction out of us, mainly me. If I let you go in there and get angry, then they'll get what they want. If I start crying in the middle of the Great Hall, they'll get what they want. I can't let them have that."

"So what are you going to do? Are you just going to let them get away with it?" He gestured violently towards the doors of the Great Hall, where a few heads were peeking around the corner to see just what was going on. As he spun around to them, like frightened mice, the heads popped back out of sight with the faintest of squeals. "Are you just going to let them think they've won?"

"I want to make them pay too," Hermione admitted. "I really want them to pay for humiliating me like this, but we can't do that. I'll have to handle this with grace and keep my head up; I don't want them thinking they're putting me down."

Draco fidgeted on the spot, flexing his muscles, feeling the anger curl down his spine in electric waves as he fought back the urge to go back into the Great Hall, find the student who did this, and literally hex the flesh of their face off. He knew how, too, unfortunately. But, her gentle touch and words slowly eased their way into his mind. He didn't want the fury to abate, he didn't want to feel his muscles suddenly relax and the fog to fade away, and he most certainly did not want to be talked out of killing the bastard who did this. But she was growing more successful by the minute.

"You're a very strong woman, Hermione," Luna said softly, her body leaning a little more towards Blaise, as though the very closeness of them helped calm his rage.

Smiling to the blonde, Hermione squeezed Draco's hand. "So are you," she answered, thinking of just how much Luna must have suffered in her first years at Hogwarts before meeting the Golden Trio. The girl had been pushed aside, shunned from everyone just as Hermione had been in primary school. She wasn't sure just how the Ravenclaws behaved, but she was certain that they, at times, had tormented the poor girl. She was glad that Luna had befriended them, happy to have the sweet girl in her life. It was only then that a part of her acknowledged the possibility that Luna's friendship with Harry and the gang had potentially saved her from further torture.

After all, it was a golden rule not to torment or bother any friends of the Golden Trio. Mainly any friend of Harry Potter's.

But, it seemed like someone was willing to ignore that unspoken rule and it probably helped the enemy that Harry had not been in the Great Hall when it had happened. She didn't want to imagine what it would have been like to calm down both Harry and Draco; both men had extremely volatile tempers.

"Draco," Hermione said softly, squeezing his hand in a way of calming his temper, "please. Let me deal with this, okay? I can handle this on my own; I'm a grown woman. I can't let a few childish spells ruin my day."

At that point in time, however, she didn't realize how she may come to regret those words.

After taking several more minutes calming Draco down and getting him to understand she could deal with the harassment on her own, they finally made their way to the first class of the day; Double Potions.

Normally, the class would have been uneventful except for the occasional, and usual, explosion of something in Neville's cauldron. However, this day was turning out to be more and more unusual.

She would have been happy about the situation; she was seated with Draco, happily concocting away and rather pleased that they made an efficient team. It was going well, the potion was brewing nicely, Neville seemed to be doing somewhat decent, if the lack of foul odours and explosions was any indicator, and class seemed to fly by.

It was the walking in the halls that had bothered her; the whispers and buzzing words, the way students watched with a scrutinizing eye as she held tightly onto Draco's hand, trying her hardest not to think of what the students were talking about. The rumours were now a mix of her and Draco's relationship and her magically shrinking skirt incident in the Great Hall; it was the only thing that made sense.

And, of course, the curiosity about Ron.

For the most part, she was able to ignore the stares and murmurs, but, she hated to admit, it was nerve-wracking and slowly tearing away at her patience and calm state. Therefore, Potions offered the soothing relief that she needed.

At least, it did until the students began moving forward, vials in hand to give to Professor Slughorn. Like always, all of the students crowded in the middle path to the Professor's desk, trying to be first or last, trying to avoid having the other students giggle at their botched concoctions.

There were so many students that she had no clue which one did it; it would be impossible to trace the action back to any one person. But, she did have a feeling it was a Slytherin, some of whom had openly protested against her relationship with Draco. Let's just say old feelings die hard. However, before she ever had thoughts of accusations, things were going well and her mood had become increasingly brighter.

So, when she sat back down at her seat, glad to have finally been able to hand in her potion, and began cleaning up as Draco returned unused ingredients, she was very surprised when her cauldron suddenly exploded in a big burst of purple fire.

Cursing loudly, several students jumped back in fear as she leapt to her feet, pulling out her wand and summoning water to put out the flames that were both in her cauldron and licking at her robes.

Just as she managed to put out the last flame, Draco showed up at her side, looking angrier than ever at the sight of her burnt cauldron. It would have to be replaced, she realized dimly, and she really didn't have the money at the moment to buy a new one; the prices had gone up due to the negative impact on the economy the war had had.

"Fucking hell," Draco shouted, earning a stern look from Slughorn, "who the fuck did this? The blond spun around, glaring at the students who had watched the scene with a mixture of shock and fear. "Who did this?" he repeated, again without an answer.

Glancing around the room, trying to find any telltale sign that might give away a student's motives, she shook her head when there seemed to be no sign of a perpetrator.

"Draco, leave it be; it could be mixed something incorrectly and it was just a matter of time before this happened," she suggested, knowing full well that they hadn't messed up in any part of the brewing process. If they had had, the vial she had given to Slughorn would have exploded as well.

"But," the blond began, still glaring at the classroom. "Somebody did this!"

She wanted to be as angry as him, wanted to rant and rave, to shout at the whole room just to make sure that the student who did this got the hint, but she couldn't. It wouldn't help her attempts in appearing unaffected by their attempts to mortify and torment her. Besides, she couldn't blame the others for the actions of one bastard.

"Cauldrons blow up all of the time," she explained, reaching out to grab his arm and calm him down once more. "It happens; this just happens to be the first time for me."

He spun around at her words, raged glowing brightly in his eyes, and she sighed heavily. "Honestly," she breathed, "don't start blaming the class because we messed up in the process. It happens, we just have to deal with it. Okay?"

The look of disbelief in her eyes was expected and she subtly gave him a look of her own; she knew that someone had done this, but she didn't want them to know that. Let the student keep trying, let them make more attempts at ruining her day; they would slip up eventually and then, she would make them pay.

Nobody messed with Hermione Granger.

So ladies and gentlemen, Chapter 19 has been concluded.
The main reason I'm putting this author's note here is to basically say that I plan on going back and fixing the abomination that is Chapter 18. I had one reviewer say that it wasn't my best, and I completely agree. So please, if anyone else thinks so, if you think it didn't go great or anything, let me know. I won't be mad, because I'm already mad enough at that chapter that it can't get worse, haha.

Btw, this chapter may have felt brief, but there's much more coming to Hermione in the upcoming chapters. I know I seemed to skim over things, like push aside the situation with Ron and all, but really, we've focused on it for so long, it's nice to get it done and over with. It'll just be a passing thought from now on, with little things indicating towards his situation.

I also wanted to quickly say thank you for everyone who stuck around with me throughout the waiting period, for everyone who was patient, and amazingly loyal. You guys are the best; I got more reviews for 18 than I had expected, and it's because you guys are so damn awesome.

Thanks everyone! 3

P.S. I remember that somebody commented saying it seems to drive away from the story having the Author's note at the end, I hope that the triple-quadruple dividers help a bit.