The night was an uneasy one, with little sleep and lots of negative emotions plaguing my heart. Worry, sorrow, grief; to name a few of them.

I tossed and turned in my bed, seemingly restless and when the first rays of daylight coloured the sky, I decided that it was useless to remain abed for much longer.

Crookshanks appeared by my side when I brushed my teeth in the girls bathroom attached to our dormitory and I sat down on a stool so the ginger cat could jump on my lap, which he of course did.

"What a cuddler you are." I thought as my free hand went through his thick fur, making the half-kneazle purr with closed eyes.

I sat there for quite some time, knowing that Crookshanks distracted me from the harsh reality of things, but eventually I nudged the cat to climb out of my lap and so he did without complain. In seconds I heard him lumbering down the staircase to the common room.

I went back to the dorm and took a clean school uniform out of my suitcase before returning to the bathroom where I locked the door before undressing myself.

"Dammit Granger, not too bad.." I thought to myself as I looked at my bare body in the mirror, seeing nothing but an adolescent woman miming my expressions.

Although I never had been the type that mainly focused on appearance too much I couldn't deny that with puberty I suddenly felt the need to care about the way I looked like, not because others didn't like how I looked but simply because I would be discontent whenever I undressed like now and took in my appearance.

It gave me an odd sense of elation, knowing that I was able to determine my exterior to some extent "simply" by thinking about how to achieve the desired effects before realizing these plans.

When I first started doing sports and exercising in general in the summer before third year, I was quite disappointed to not see any.. progress at first but now, after almost two years the results were showing and I took pride in the knowledge that it had taken nothing but tenacity, careful consideration and motivation to get to where I was now. Working on one's appearance was as much mental discipline as it was to develop a decent personality in my humble opinion. But there was one thing I couldn't influence, not without the usage of magic at least.

My hair! Gosh, what a pain it had been to find a solution for that bushy mane that looked like a lightning had struck me. But that's where my thirst for knowledge had come in handy.

Around the same summer where I had started exercising, I began informing myself about the biologic nature of hair, what influenced the speed of it's growth and the way it grew. I was really eager to find a way to tame my hair.

So eventually I stumbled over the term "keratin" and when I looked it up I learned how it was a protein catalysed by a transaminase whose reaction product is later transmethylated to keratin. And keratin is the protein of which a human's hair consists.

Me being me, I then tried to find a way to influence or control the way this kreatin was produced and soon I was digging myself through books about potions in hope to find something that would allow me to determine the growth of my hair. Though I never found such a potion.

So I had to come up with the formula on my own. Which was very, very tricky, I must admit.

Luckily I was in France that summer and I was confident to find somebody who would have more experience in that area with my "beautification potion", as I liked to call it. After all, France is the land of beauty.

Although nobody I asked about my plan knew the exact answer to my hairy problem, I received quite a bit of advice on which magical ingredients inhibit a certain reaction and which serve as activator. And that helped a lot.

Over the weeks in France I came up with a literal solution that would slowly but steadily decrease the bushiness of my hair and when I came back to England, I bought all the ingredients in Diagon Alley before brewing the potion. Which was possible, since potions don't require spells and only fire, which can be lit with matches. So there was no underage magic in the house.

Only now did I realize how wrong all of this could have gone, but it hadn't. Maybe because of the careful planning, maybe it was luck. What matters is that it worked.

Of course I didn't tell anybody about it since I thought that it could convey the wrong message if I did, but on the other hand there wasn't a soul I really wanted to tell, so.. win-win situation, I guess?

I raked my hand through the gold-brown tresses of hair that had become so much more silky, elegantly waved and in general normal over the last two years and I couldn't resist sighing: I still was so elated that the one thing that bothered me the most about myself was a thing of the past.

I then stepped into the shower, where my thoughts became much more gloomy again and I felt embarrassed because of how tactless it was of me to rather concentrate on my appearance than on the fact that a student had died last night and that a certain dark lord had been resurrected. Now was not the time to indulge in girly thoughts.

When I was done, I dried my hair and dressed, careful to close every last button of my blouse as I couldn't stand it when boys stared at me – not that it happened too often, but the times I experienced such behaviour was uncomfortable enough, so thank you.

"Though you didn't mind when Harry gave you all the attention during the Yule Ball.." My brain reminded myself of one of the few evenings where I had indeed worn something more.. permissive.

Poor Harry had looked at me a lot of times that evening, but never asked me if I wanted to dance with him and I assumed that he was too shy to ask, which I found incredibly cute.

"Wait, that's Harry you're thinking about! There ain't nothing cute about him!"

"Yeah, and there's nothing hot about him as well, mh?"

"Alright, enough is enough!" I hissed under my breath, effectively terminating the mental debate and stormed out of the bathroom, throwing my used clothes into my suitcase without a care for once before I dashed down the staircase to the common room, absolutely determined to ban these thoughts into the most far away corner of my mind. So I decided to visit Harry, which I would have done even without a need for distraction.

Quite fortunately I could always control myself around Harry, so I knew I could escape the voices inside my head for now.

As I walked through a still deserted castle I heard my steps echoing through the corridors, which was not only something one rarely experienced in Hogwarts but also made the place feel way spookier than usually. The world in general seemed to be more sinister now, if I thought about it.

I soon arrived at the hospital wing and entered, careful not to make a noisy entrance.

Shallow light of the morning sun streamed through the big windows, partially illuminating the ward and I made my way towards the bed where I knew Harry was currently lying in.

I gently nudged apart the curtains surrounding the bed and sat down on a chair beside his bed and looked at my best friend, surprised at how relaxed he.. seemed to be.

As my gaze wandered over his face and settled on the lightning-shaped scar I knew that he couldn't possibly feel as relaxed as he looked to me.

"That thing must hurt!" I thought and without even realizing what I was doing, reached out my index finger and gently traced the shape of it. And it felt oddly unspectacular.

It didn't feel like the most dangerous wizard of all time had been responsible for that injury, it didn't feel like a killing curse had hit his skin there, it just.. had a peculiar form for a scar.

Before I accidentally woke my best friend I quickly wrapped a strand of hair around my curious finger and watched him sleeping.

He was such a special person in my life: Even after more than three years as hist best friend, I always managed to realize there was yet another facade about him that I didn't know previously.. And one would think that at one point everything was told and said between two friends.

"No, this is just the beginning." A voice in my head told me and although I couldn't possibly imagine what other things I might find out about Harry James Potter, I didn't disagree. My mind was simply not ready yet to grasp the unknown that undoubtedly lay ahead…

It was time for breakfast when Harry woke, so besides telling him again how sorry I was for the things that he had to go through the last evening I didn't start any big dramatic speeches and thought he was quite glad that I didn't.

We met Ron at the Gryffindor table and as I expected, he was already devouring a bowl of porridge when we arrived.

Rumours must have spread quickly that Harry had faced something truly horrific in that maze since every other second somebody stared at him whilst whispering to his or her friends and I gave every single one of them a death glare in return for their rude behaviour.

"Hermione you don't have to kill somebody just because he's looking at Harry. He doesn't care anyway." Ron told me with a chuckle which only served to stroke the silent rage that built in my body at the sight of everybody staring at my best friend.

"I want to see you when the entire school looks at you while whispering god-knows-what behind your back!" I riled against him but the redhead just shrugged his shoulders.

"I wouldn't mind that at all. And I'm sure Harry doesn't.."

"Just because you've got the emotional range of a tea spoon doesn't mean that others feel the same!" I exclaimed and for a second all three of us were silent until we broke out in laughter.

"What a comparison!" Harry bellowed after almost choking on his pumpkin juice, face deep-red and Ron then looked at me with an amused smile.

"Sometimes, you really can be funny." He stated as he wiped a tear with his hand and I didn't really know if I should feel complimented or alarmed.

"Does this mean that he thinks of me as some boring person most of the time?" I thought and tried to come up with a possible solution for my own answer during the remainder of the meal.

Professor Dumbledore held a speech after breakfast, informing the entire student body of what had happened the previous night and warning us that dark times lay ahead.

He appealed to us to stick together and find strength in family and friends, something that I already had taken to heart. And he praised Harry for.. well, him being him.

I sensed that all the attention and praise made him feel uncomfortable so I took his hand in mine underneath the table, for nobody to know beside him and me. The small glance of appreciation he shot me was more than worth it…

The time came for the students of the foreign schools to leave and it was quite a scene to behold, all kinds of people hugging, shaking hands and or French-kissing; no matter the nationality, culture or ethnic group.

Viktor Krum also said goodbye to me and when he kissed my hand as to say farewell, I could practically feel the death glare of Ron Weasley on my neck but I decided not to indulge in my passion to correct people that were, undoubtedly, wrong about something.

The three of us then watched the carriage of Beauxbaton and the ship of Durmstrang disappear, making me realize something that shouldn't have taken me so long.

"Everything is going to change now, isn't it?" I asked and instinctively knew that this was a caesura in my relatively young life.

"Yeah.", Harry said as he put his hand on my shoulder in a reassuring way, "It is."

I smiled briefly at my best friend before wrapping my arms around Harry's and Ron's shoulders, one arm for each boy, and gave them a more demanding look.

"I want you to write to me, BOTH of you!" I told them as I narrowed my eyes on the Weasley who had almost automatically groaned in response to my request, something that made Harry chuckle heartily.

"If I were you then I'd write tor her or you'll regret it if you don't do it." The raven-haired wizard advised his best mate who agreed with a sigh.

"Fine. But don't expect a thousand words each letter."

"That's okay if you write everyday in return." I countered with a cunning smile and the redhead rolled his eyes.

"Now as much as I hate to interrupt this little.. group conversation here, might I have a word with Potter?" Alastor Moody suddenly announced himself and I turned around to see the ex-auror focusing both of his eyes on Harry's.

"Eh, sure Professor?" He responded, clearly worrying if he had done something wrong and with a last look at me and Ron, he walked away with Professor Moody. And this time it was the real one so I had no reason to be concerned.

"See you in a minute!" He called after us and I turned my attention towards Ron.

"Guess we'll wait at him in the common room." He said with a shrug of his shoulders and I silently agreed, knowing that Harry would know where his two best friends would be waiting for him. Just what did Moody want from him?…

"An auror?" Ron asked in disbelief when the three of had settled down in the common room, eyes wide and mouth agape.

"Yeah, I never really thought about what I wanted to do after Hogwarts, but when Moody said that.. well, asked me if I had interest in becoming one, I instantly liked the idea of being one, one day." Harry explained and before I could shut my mouth, I began babbling.

"You know that you'll need to have top marks in a lot of subjects if you even want to have good chances to be allowed into the training program, right? Not to speak of the immense physical fitness you have to bring along if you want to survive it without ending up with muscle ache for the rest of your life." I told him and cursed myself for my lack of sensibility when I saw his smile disappearing from his face.

"Oh, well.. Moody didn't mention that." My best friend admitted and I gave him a compassionate look.

"Listen, just because it would be hard, doesn't mean that it's not a path you cannot take." I said and his eyes suddenly lit up.

"You once told me that I just need a real drive to achieve incredible things. If my goal is to become an auror, then I'll have the motivation to learn enough to get these marks! Hermione, you're a genius!" Harry exclaimed and I blushed slightly when I realized that he had taken my praise from last year to heart.

"It's good for his confidence." I thought with a smile and couldn't help but gaze at my best friend with quite a bit of pride.

"Oh no, Hermione! You've just turned Harry into a bookworm just like yourself!" Ron pretended to feel betrayed, but something about the way his eyes gleamed gave me reason to belief that he not only was at least partially serious about his jest, but also that he wouldn't approve if Harry spent a bit more time in the library from now on.

"Don't worry Ron, I'll still remain a human." He joked and winked at me, which made giggle as I imagined myself as a robot. Quite a disturbing thought, actually.

"And to be honest: I think I should rather think about that decision for a bit before I make my choice. But "auror" is definitely noted on the list for possible future jobs.", Harry decided in a serious tone before turning towards Ron, "Hey, we've never spoken about what you wanna do after school, mate."

"I want to be a quidditch player for the Chudley Canons one day." He stated proudly but I raised a brow, assuming that Ron never thought about how difficult that dream of his might turn out to be.

"You realize how hard is to become a professional player? You not only need the skill to become one, but also have to catch the attention of scouts to even be noted as an option for a professional team. Then you need to go through several physical tests, and I'm not sure if you would manage to pass them when you're not even playing for the school team and.."

"Says the person that always sits around with a book in her hand and only goes near a stadium because her friend is playing for the house team." Ron riled against me and I narrowed my eyes on the redhead, already feeling the anger building inside myself.

"For your information Ronald, I'm exercising since almost two years now, and when I'm home during the holidays I even play football in a club." I told him and Ron only rolled his eyes.

"And why is it that I never see you exercising then, mh?" He retorted and I laughed in response.

"Never thought about that I might be doing that in the dorm? As you should know, it's quite spacey." I countered and he sighed in annoyance.

"I pity your dorm mates. They must be thinking you're a fuckin' lunatic." He said but certainly didn't think that this might enrage Harry quite a bit.

"Ron, enough of this! Hermione just tried to tell you to be realistic about your dream and you insult her like she's your worst enemy!" My best friend defended me and the redhead groaned.

"Yeah, and when she told you to be realistic she was WAY nicer than she was to me!" He exclaimed and it was obvious that he disliked the fact that I would choose Harry over him every day.

"Maybe that's because I'm nicer to her than you are? Ron, don't be a dunderhead. You gotta be careful what you say and what you actually wanna say. Hermione's never done anything bad to you and you treat her like this." Harry tried to reason with Ron, who sighed in defeat moments later.

"Alright. Hermione?", The Weasley stood up from his armchair, walked to me and extended his hand, "I'm sorry that I snapped at you like that."

Surprised because of his kind gesture I eagerly shook his hand.

"Apology accepted, Ron." I simply responded and Harry released a sigh that sounded like a weight had been lifted off of his weight.

"Thank god.. And here I thought Voldemort would make my head ache from now on.." He mumbled and I couldn't help but agree: Fighting against your enemy was hard enough, but watching your friends fight that bitterly was even worse.

"Alright, for Harry's sake: Stop the unnecessary fights with Ron." I told myself in hope that I would remember my words the next time I felt provoked…

The rest of the day was rather ordinary if one excluded all the packing and preparing for the journey back home and soon enough I found myself sitting in the Great Hall again, having my last dinner for this school year.

Harry and Ron had long retreated to the common room to pack their things last-minute style when I as well finished my meal and left the Great Hall.

"I'll tell him that if he should need some company during the time at his relatives home, that I'd be glad to come over and visit him. 40 kilometres is nothing for me if it means that he won't do stupid things. Thank god he lives in Surrey and not in Liverpool or something like that." I thought to myself as I began my way back up to the common room, not even actively looking around to know the route.

"If he needs somebody to talk about the horrors he must have seen that night on the graveyard then I'll gladly be that someone.. I could swear he is bottling his emotions up again.." I mumbled to myself and snorted.

"Seriously, that's not even an option: I'll make him talk about it or he'll never do. And if he won't talk then the feelings will build up and I don't want to be near him when he explodes, no thank you, I can live without furious Harry."

I could still remember how angry he had been when Ron wouldn't believe that his best friend didn't want to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. And how he had yelled at him, so aggressively that I had doubted it was my best friend shouting. And it had almost ended in a fight if I hadn't stopped those two.. ugh, boys.

"No, for the sake of the entire wizarding world it would be better to have a happy Harry fighting the dark forces than an angry Harry.." I concluded and ouch!

"Oh, I'm so sorry Professor Dumbledore!" I gasped when I realized that I had just walked into the headmaster of Hogwarts and I felt my cheeks heating up in pure embarrassment.

"Oh, don't worry Miss Granger. I know it all too well when I'm deep in thought or something is on my mind.." ,The man with the long white beard told me with an amused chuckle, "Although if I had to guess then there is someBODY on your mind rather then something."

I could have sworn my cheeks were as red as a tomato as the thought crept into my mind that he could read my mind and I just stood there, opening and closing my mouth again without a word leaving my lips – which didn't happen too often. And then he just left, but of course not without winking at me first. How uncomfortable does this man want me to feel?

"Have a nice holiday, Miss Granger." He called after me before beginning to hum some melody to himself as he walked away.

Only when I found a letter from the headmaster on my bedside table the next morning did I fully realize the importance of this coincidental conversation. Or was it a coincidence?…


Author's note:

I had such a great time writing this, it's unbelievable. Why?

Well, in a lot of Harmony fanfictions (that I've read) Hermione is just this incredibly beautiful and attractive woman, but I've got a problem when the main female protagonist is just buffed on that front to the writer's liking. The empasis is on the word JUST here.

Now, because our Harry deserves a beautiful and attractive Hermione I can understand that. But since I'm a creature of logic, I have a few conditions before I allow myself to indulge in the fun of writing about an attractive protagonist.

So I came up with the most Hermione thing ever that would allow me to give Harry the Hermione he deserves: A rational background.

I must admit that I laughed really hard when I began writing the passage where I explained how Hermione had been able to tame her hair, because my solution is something that I've never ever read in any fanfiction. Who the hell writes about enzymes and catalysis in a fanfiction? Yeah, me.

But it just felt so in-character for her to read all about the rational/biological aspect of hair only to then combine the knowledge of muggle science with her knowledge about potions to come up with a plan to tame her mane. That's justification enough for me to have a beautiful Hermione in this story.

Now, I'd like to apologize to anybody who suffered from this involuntary biology lesson and now good night! I wrote all day, all night.. again.
Please write a review if you can afford the time, it would mean a lot to me!