HERMIONE

The evening before classes began, Hermione decided to go over to the fifth year girls dormitory to see if Ginny was there. Peaking around the corner, she spotted her friend. Her bright red hair was down, nearly blending with the curtains of her four poster bed. She sat cross legged, back against the headboard of her bed. Looking casually comfortable while bent forward reading Quidditch Times.

"Hey Ginny," Hermione said, scooting up on the edge of her bed.

"Hey!" She said brightly, closing the magazine and tossing it on her bedside table.

"How was your Christmas?"

"Not the worst, as they go. Better than last year, anyway. Apart from having to share a room with Fleur," she said, sticking her tongue out and crossing her eyes.

"Good grief. How did you manage the vanity?"

"Oh, don't worry, she didn't spend too many nights in my room," Ginny winked and both girls sniggered.

Hermione dropped her voice to a whisper. "Your mum didn't mind? Her sleeping with Bill?"

"Mum would've gone batty… if she'd had a clue," Hermione's mouth dropped open in shock. Ginny continued, "I actually respected her gumption, sneaking around under Mum's nose. Plus it came with the added benefit that Bill now owes me one for keeping quiet about it. The boys were still tripping over themselves about her, of course." They both rolled their eyes exaggeratedly.

"I wish they'd just give it up. Especially as Ronald's gone and got himself a girlfriend now."

"Er - right. It's veela magic, though, isn't it?"

"I suppose."

"Harry seemed a bit off the entire time," said Ginny, clearly trying to steer the subject elsewhere.

"Yeah, he's gotten rather obsessed with Malfoy," Hermione explained. "He's convinced Malfoy's a Death Eater. He's started tailing him all over the castle."

"You don't think it's true?"

"The evidence is minimal. It's just like Harry to get fixated on something like this. Particularly with Malfoy."

"Hm, maybe that was it. Anyway, how was your break?"

"Pretty boring. Always quiet at my parents house. They don't really get what's going on in the wizarding community, which makes it hard to talk to them sometimes. Don't want to worry them, though, do I?" Hermione said with a shrug. "Did you talk to Dean earlier?"

"Yeah. Happy to say after a long, grueling, and particularly painful heart to heart - things are back to normal," said Ginny, sounding exhausted as if she'd just run a marathon.

"Glad you worked it out," Hermione said. "Did he say what was really bothering him?"

"You were right, of course... Some nonsense about feeling like I don't pay him enough attention. Bit pathetic, really," Ginny took a steadying breath, as if to reset herself. "But he's so kind and sweet. On the whole, I do still like him. He said he'd try to be less sensitive. I said I'd try to include him more."

Hermione would ponder this response for the next several days. Privately, she agreed that Ginny never did seem to pay him much mind. And when she did, she made it seem like an obligation. None of them had much experience with relationships. But Hermione personally felt that a couple who had been together as long as Ginny and Dean had would be more on the same page. However, she decided this was not the time to push the issue.

So Hermione simply added, "He's always been a good person." Ginny nodded absentmindedly and began rubbing her hands over her pillowcase, watching the wrinkles and folds vanish with her pressure.

"So about your study schedule this term…" Hermione started.

"Hermione," Ginny groaned.

Hermione packed up her bag two minutes before the bell rang to release them from Charms that Friday afternoon. Having finished the assigned spellwork half an hour ago, she had spent the rest of class reading the chapter for next week's lessons. As soon as the bell sounded, she rushed out the door, hoping to avoid speaking to anyone in her class.

She had almost reached the Fat Lady's portrait when she ran into Ginny, coming out for dinner.

"Hey! Coming back from the library?" she asked.

"No, just got out of Charms." Several other Gryffindors rounded the corner, chatting animatedly about the weekend. Harry saw the two of them and stopped to speak with them.

"Hey Ginny! You two want to head down to dinner?" he asked brightly. Hermione looked pointedly in the other direction and crossed her arms.

"What, you're ignoring me now too?" He asked, looking deflated and waited for her reply. But she merely raised her chin ever higher and continued looking at the stonework of the corridor wall. "That's really mature, Hermione."

"If it's maturity that you're looking for, I think you'll have better luck sitting with Won-Won," she said.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Really? You're going to make me sit with them?"

"I couldn't care less who you sit with," Hermione spat.

"Fine, then." Harry retorted, pulling a face of distaste. He made to leave, but before he did, he turned to Ginny. His expression softened and asked, "How's your first week back, Ginny?"

"Rubbish. All the professors are on about O.W.L.s like it's the end times. Makes it difficult to focus on what really matters, like Quidditch." Hermione scoffed and tapped her foot.

"Wish I could say it gets better. But they just seem to get louder about it as the semester goes on."

"It could be worse, though. At least there's no school tyrant of the toad variety," Ginny joked.

"Oh come off it, you don't miss her even a little bit?" he said.

"Only when I'm looking for target practice with my silent eye daggers."

"I thought that's why they kept Slytherin House."

"No, that's just so they don't go off and found their own school called Tom Riddle's Institution for Fucked Up Pyschopaths." Harry snorted with laughter and despite herself, Hermione's mouth upturned into a smile.

"Who's Tom Riddle?" Dean had approached without any of their notice.

"Oh! He's erm …" Ginny trailed off and squinted up at the ceiling as if hoping the answer would fall from the ceiling. Harry had stopped smiling and was now observing Dean and Ginny with a curious expression. Dean waited patiently for an explanation, but the pause stretched into a painful awkwardness.

"I'll be going then. See you later, Hermione," said Harry, emphasizing her name. He disappeared quickly into the portrait hole. Once again leaving Hermione with Ginny and Dean in a standoff. Hermione decided to remain stony faced and mute, not wanting to follow Harry and risk running into him or Ron.

"Who's Tom Riddle, Ginny?" asked Dean again with more emphasis.

"He's erm - well - he's You-Know-Who," Ginny said simply.

"Oh, I thought his name was Vol -, Vol -"

"It was his name before. When he was a student here," she explained, saving him from the pain of stumbling through saying the name "Voldemort."

"Weird," he said, as if considering an interesting piece of trivia. "Well, want to have dinner?"

"I said I'd sit with Hermione. She's alone this evening. Sorry! I'll see you back in the Common Room." Dean looked disappointed but leaned down to kiss her goodbye. Hermione and Ginny stood in the chilled corridor for a few minutes, waiting for Dean to disappear through the portrait hole.

"You haven't told Dean about the diary?" Hermione whispered and the two began walking slowly to dinner.

"No, it never came up." Ginny shrugged. "Did you want to put your stuff inside, or…?"

Hermione quickly shook her head no. "But Ginny, that was a really major part of your life," she insisted.

"Right, well it's not exactly easy to say 'Hey, Dean. You remember my first year where I nearly died? That was because I spent months writing in a diary that secretly contained the soul of the most evil dark wizard of our time. And every time I wrote in it, he was slowly possessing me and sucking out my life force for his own'."

"It's not easy, I'm sure. But shouldn't that be the type of thing a boyfriend should know?"

"Right, and also 'You know Harry Potter? The one you think is weirdly close to me and my family? He's the one that came to save me. He skewered a giant snake with the fucking Sword of Gryffindor. Stabbed the heart of the diary slash spirit thingy. And then revived me back to life. All while risking his own like the git of hero he is'."

"Wait, Dean thinks you're close with Harry?" Hermione asked. This resulted in Ginny shutting her mouth, reminding Hermione inexplicably of a goldfish. Her friend had turned a shade of pink that she hadn't seen in a while. So Hermione gave her a little shove to encourage her to speak.

"Yeah, well Harry is, isn't he? He's close to my family," said Ginny safely.

"Yes. But Dean specifically mentioned that you and Harry were close? The two of you? What was the context?"

"We were just talking about how Harry stays at the Burrow during the holidays, it was no big deal." Ginny had still not made eye contact with her. The pink tinge had now reached her neck.

"And?"

"Hermione, can you lay off me? I don't want to talk about this, okay?"

"Did you and Harry speak over Christmas break?"

"Well, he was there, wasn't he?"

"You know what I mean," Hermione insisted.

"Really, please. Can we not talk about this? It was nothing. Dean just thought it was odd. And it's not a secret that I have acquired the power of speech around Harry. We're friends. And Dean wasn't even insinuating anything like that," she appeared flustered, once again shutting her mouth.

"Okay, we don't have to talk about it," said Hermione. And she really did try to keep herself quiet, but she couldn't resist asking, "What did you and Harry talk about? As friends?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Arnold sang on Boxing Day, so I showed him. And the day before we came back, we worked in the garden. He asked me how the year's going, we talked a bit about Slughorn's Party and -"

"The party where you fought with your boyfriend?"

"Yes, Hermione. Blimey, you should've been on the Inquisitorial Squad," she said with a huff.

"Did you talk about Dean?"

"A bit, yeah," said Ginny. "And he listened, like a good friend."

Hermione took in this information with great interest. Of course, she knew Ginny had become much more herself around Harry. At times, like at breakfast before they left for break, it even felt like the two were flirting. And she had a passing curiosity as to why Harry had chosen to ask Luna to Slughorn's Party. Yet, she was all so distracted with Ron, she hadn't given it a second thought.

She decided to keep a closer eye out.

Being an early riser was not her intention those first weeks of term. She was just finding it difficult to sleep.

Thoughts in the first waking hours of drifting in and out of consciousness were the hardest to control. Aggravating images of Ron and Lavender in various states of embrace. Or, even more aggravating still, images of she, Hermione, and Ron in those same embraces. Before The Ginny Outburst, it had seemed like she and Ron were finally getting close to that possibility. Maybe if they'd gone to Slughorn's Party together…

But now? Now, not even their friendship was left. It was like watching her favorite book slowly fall apart, out of its binding. Something was being slowly lost or otherwise permanently changed, and she didn't see how it would ever be reset. How could she look at Ron the same? After all these months of him wrapping his arms around Lavender, making an absolutely spectacle of himself.

What did they even have to talk about?

Haven't you noticed? They don't.

She pushed the pinching thought out of her mind.

Sometimes she'd be kept awake piecing together the information from Harry's meetings with Dumbledore. She wished that she could just go with him. If Dumbledore had wanted Harry to share the information with her and Ron, why did he not just allow these to be group meetings? Perhaps if she could go, she'd be able to pick up extra details. Maybe they'd have a better picture of what was going on. Instead of relying on Harry's word. Which was very good. But still, she'd seen him space out in History of Magic enough times to believe that an extra pair of eyes wouldn't do any harm.

And all this on top of her regular studies. Staying on top of readings, assignments, and asking good questions in classes. The only bright side of being alone more often than not was that she could stay on top of everything.

So now, early mornings were spent stoking the fire in the Common Room - a good book in one hand with an Earl Grey in the other. Or, like this morning, spent having breakfast in the Great Hall while catching up on news before most students got out of bed.

She sat with several already read newspapers strewn out on the table, when Harry dragged himself down.

"Hey Hermione," he yawned. She started forcibly buttering a piece of toast. She was still furious at him for what he'd done in Potions the other day. Not only getting away with cheating, but being actively praised for it. "Look, I know you're not speaking to me. But I just wondered… have you received any invitation to a Slug Club meeting?"

She shook her head, taking a vicious bite of toast.

"I was hoping there'd be another so I could ask him about the memory."

"Bombarding him after class didn't work, did it?" she seethed. How irresponsible of Harry. So tactless. Of course it was not going to work. If it was that easy, Dumbledore would have gotten it from Slughorn ages ago.

"No. You were right, Hermione. I am open to suggestions, you know," he said, failing to hide his annoyance.

"I'm going to the library today. To see what I can find about Horcruxes."

"Brilliant. Thanks."

"I have to say, Harry. What you pulled with that bezoar really was completely unfair. It just goes to show -"

"Look, I've already said I'm sorry. I can't take it back. Alright?"

She decided that it was no use this morning. Wasting energy on convincing him something was off with that Half Blood Prince book just wasn't worth the effort today. So the two of them sat in silence for the rest of breakfast.

Later that day, she rushed down the hall leading to the library. She'd been at lunchtime but had no luck finding any mention of Horcruxes.

She took a quick moment to pause, as she always did, to appreciate the feeling of first entering the library. Inhaling deeply. It had a personality, that dense silence. It was at once completely still, yet held the stories of hundreds, thousands, of books. All new knowledge, things Muggles would never know they missed out on. A whole, rich world given to her by pure chance.

An hour later, books piled up beside her: Flight Through the Forbidden, Lost Dark Arts and Their Origins, Morgath's Guide to Magic Most Foul.

She'd begun to numb to the foul magic that filled these books. Spells that would turn enemies inside out. Potions that were meant to wipe out the functioning of specific areas of the brain. Normally in circumstances like these, she'd ask Madam Pince to guide her to the correct section. However, of course, this time she could not.

A disturbing realization struck her, that young Voldemort - Tom Riddle - would have likely touched some of these pages. Certainly he would have exhausted all resources before making himself vulnerable to ask another human being for answers.

A shiver ran through her entire body.

She continued to look for an hour afterwards, but it was useless. With each book void of answers, her frustration mounted. Until one book, Magick Moste Evile mentioned Horcruxes just so it could say it would not mention them. Useless.

Despite the futility of the book in question, she decided to check it out anyway, earning a look of concern from Madam Pince. Several paces away from the Common Room, she turned in response to someone calling her name. When she realized it was McLaggen, she hastily tried to reach the portrait hole before he caught up with her.

"Hermione!" It was no use, his abnormally long legs had reached her first. "Hellooo, could you not hear me calling you?"

"Sorry, I was preoccupied with something," she explained.

"Okay. I wanted to ask you about what happened at the party?" She feigned innocence and met his questioning gaze. "You completely disappeared."

"Oh! Sorry, I didn't feel well. My ankle -"

"You mean your stomach?"

"Yes! That's what it was."

"Look, I'm just confused. You asked me to go to Slughorn's Party."

"Yes, I did."

"Okay, and usually that means you like the person you're asking."

"It can…"

"Well?" he emphasized.

"What?

"Do you fancy me?" he said a bit too loudly. He took one step closer to her. She backed away.

"Erm… I should have said something before, but I asked us to go as friends."

"Friends? When you asked me, you seemed like you were flirting with me."

"Did I?" she cringed, remembering exactly how that encounter had gone. Knowing full well that she had been flirting with him. That she had put on an elaborate show to do just that. But had not meant a word of it.

Oh Merlin, am I just as bad as Ron? Pretending to like someone I don't?

"Yes," he said. He kept trying to move closer to her, but she was taking quick steps backwards to avoid him.

This is completely ridiculous, she thought. I am literally running away from him and he does not get the hint.

"You were smiling and all excited. I hadn't thought about you that way before. But you're so clever and you actually are very good looking. I started to think that perhaps you could compliment me well, and you might be someone I could see myself dating."

"How… thoughtful," she said.

"So are you interested in me, or not?" he said. They both stopped moving in response to footsteps coming down the hall. Hermione spun around, grateful for the momentary distraction.

"Hey Hermione. Cormac," said Neville. He appeared oblivious to the awkwardness of the encounter, but stopped walking when he saw Hermione's pleading eyes.

Turning to McLaggen, Hermione quickly said, "I'm really sorry, Cormac. I asked us as friends. That's all. Have a good evening."

She rushed at Neville, whose eyes had widened in bewilderment. Hermione whispered quietly, "Quick, let's go," leaving McLaggen fuming in the hall. Once the Fat Lady's portrait swung closed behind her and Neville, she let out a breath of relief.

"Everything ...okay, Hermione?" asked Neville, concerned.

"Yes, thank you so much for coming by. He cornered me about leaving him at Slughorn's Party."

"Oh, did he seem like he was going to…" Neville trailed off, his round face growing red and splotchy.

"Oh, no! No, no, no. Nothing like that. He just is so large and … and…"

"Big-headed?"

Hermione laughed despite herself, "Yeah, Neville, thanks for your help."

"Hermione, I've seen you fight off Death Eaters. I'm positive you could take McLaggen," he said with a warm smile. "But I'm happy to help."