CW: Teenage romance, kissing, and mention of teen sexuality

The Shrieking Shack was a solitary, boarded-up house partially down a hill. It looked abandoned, and a twisted tree nearby it didn't help lessen its creepy quality.

"The villagers heard screams coming from inside for years," Cedric told her, nudging Hermione. "No one knows who commissioned it. The windows have always been boarded up, and there's no working doors."

"A house with no doors?" Hermione was incredulous. "How would you get in?"

"Maybe it was meant to make sure nothing could get out." Cedric's tone was ominous. "Who knows what screams in there?"

Hermione shivered slightly. "Can we go closer?"

Cedric glanced around.

"We could," he said. "We're not strictly supposed to, but…"

He offered her his hand, and together they made their way down the hill to the Shrieking Shack, which soon loomed high over them.

"This really is a mystery, isn't it?" Hermione exclaimed, circling it. "It looks like someone started building a building, but was utterly determined it not actually be used as a place to live."

"It's the most haunted place in Britain," Cedric said, grinning at her. "I would hope no one would want to live here."

"That's the thing, though, isn't it?" Hermione mused. "We say it's the 'most haunted building in Britain', but we live at a castle that has dozens of ghosts."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, what does it mean, to be haunted?" Hermione asked, glancing back at him. "Isn't it a location frequented by ghosts?"

Cedric paused. "Ah… yes…?"

"But yet, we don't consider Hogwarts haunted at all, really," she said. "We just kind of acknowledge the ghosts and move on with our day." She looked at Cedric. "But this building, where we don't know if there are ghosts, this is the building people call haunted." She looked up at the structure, seeing a boarded-up window high up on the second floor. "Why do you think that is?"

Cedric was looking at her rather intently. "I don't know."

"I think it's because there's more to 'haunted' than just ghosts," Hermione mused, tapping her fingers on the creepy structure. "'Haunted' is more about the feeling of unease a place gives you, the feeling of wary uncertainty, or the creepiness or worry or fear, than it is about what's causing that feeling." She turned the corner, but there were no doors on the back of the building either. "Like people say that a person can be 'haunted' by their past, if a memory's feeling never leaves them and stays in their memory." She glanced at Cedric. "What do you think?"

"I think," Cedric said hoarsely, "that your mind is one of the most unique and brightest I've ever seen."

Hermione turned to look back at him sharply. "What?"

"Hermione…"

Cedric was stepping towards her, his hand outstretched, and Hermione felt confused. She'd been talking about a haunted building, and suddenly Cedric looked like he wanted to kiss her.

"You're amazing, you know?" he murmured, his eyes holding hers as he stepped closer. Hermione took half a step back, her shoulders hitting the wall of the Shrieking Shack. "I've been here dozens of times, and never once have I wondered what it means when we call it haunted."

"And me being pedantic about word choice is amazing?" Hermione's throat was dry, managing somewhat of a sarcastic tone, but Cedric only smirked.

"Your mind is amazing," Cedric corrected, brushing back a lock of her hair. "It works in different ways than other people's do. You might be younger than me, but I feel like whenever I'm around you, you open my eyes to parts of the world or magic I've never even considered."

His voice was soft, and his hand on her face was stroking her cheek gently. His eyes were still on hers, and Hermione could feel her heart thudding in her chest. She was abruptly ultra-aware of her body, her shoulders pressed against the wooden slats of the building, and of how alone they really were.

"May I kiss you?" Cedric murmured. "Is that okay, Hermione?"

Hermione's heart skipped a beat. "…okay."

Cedric's eyes glowed at hers, he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, and Hermione's eyes fluttered shut.

Cedric's kiss was gentle. Hermione could feel his chest up against her body, and he felt very solid and firm. Hermione kissed him back, her eyes shut, giving in to the warm and tingly feelings he evoked in her. Cedric's kiss seemed to change at that, and he pulled back a moment to look at her, his eyes dark, before leaning in to kiss her again, a little harder, a little more fervently.

Hermione kissed him back as best she could, following his lead. Part of her was very aware that Cedric was two years older than her, and he'd probably kissed loads of girls, while Hermione had only really kissed one. It was odd, trying to match his technique, even as a heated feeling coiled in her chest and her middle, and Hermione wondered if she was analyzing it all too much, and how she could get her brain to please shut off so she could just enjoy the kiss.

Cedric pulled back after a time, his face flushed and his eyes dark.

"That…" His voice was low, a murmur. "Wow."

Hermione flushed a dark pink.

"Was that okay…?" she ventured.

Cedric looked at her like she was crazy.

"Was it okay?" he repeated incredulously. "Was it okay?"

"Was it?" Hermione wanted to know, but Cedric was shaking his head in disbelief.

"Hermione," he told her. "I'm on a date with the girl of my dreams, I have the girl of my dreams in my arms, and she's kissing me back more than I dared to ever dream of." His eyes burned against hers. "I would say I'm more than okay, Hermione," he breathed against her lips. "I'm very much more than okay."

"That's good," Hermione said, relaxing a little. She paused. "…Do you want to do it again?"

With a groan, Cedric leaned in and captured her lips again, a little stronger this time, and Hermione wound her hands around his neck to pull him closer, doing her best to kiss him back. It was a little easier this time, now that she knew he liked it and she wasn't worrying if she was doing it right or not. She grew adventurous after a time, daring to nibble on his bottom lip like Fleur had done to her, and Cedric groaned, pushing her into the wall harder with his body and kissing her furiously.

"Don't do that," he growled at her.

"Why not?" Hermione teased, breathless. "You seemed to like it."

"I did like it," Cedric admitted. "A little too much."

Hermione blinked at him. "…isn't that a good thing?"

Cedric groaned. "Witch, you'll be the death of me."

He bent to give her a deep kiss again, before pulling back. "I like you too much to get carried away with you against the wall of the Shrieking Shack, Hermione," he told her. His eyes were dark, his pupils blown out. "But you doing things like that makes it very hard not to."

Hermione looked at Cedric, her lips in an exaggerated pout.

"Does that mean I don't get to try French kissing you yet?" she asked, fluttering her eyelashes innocently. "And I was so looking forward to that part."

"Merlin, Hermione…" Cedric groaned. "You just don't know when to stop, do you?"

Hermione went to reply, but then Cedric was kissing her again, his mouth hot against hers, and Hermione realized that she had managed to push him a bit further, and Cedric seemed all too willing to try French kissing with her after all, his tongue tangling with hers as he groaned into her mouth.

It was kind of fun, in a way, Hermione mused, and she could see why Tracey liked this. With Fleur, Hermione had felt swept away and helpless in the kisses, but here, it seemed like Cedric was the one being swept away. Hermione was intrigued and tried different things, nipping his lips, tangling his tongue with hers, and pressing soft kisses up the column of his neck, seeing what responses each one evoked, managing to get a growl and an almost involuntary hip thrust against her when she nibbled on his neck behind his jaw.

"Enchanting witch," Cedric breathed, his eyes hot. "I've wanted to kiss you for so long…"

He kissed her again, heatedly, fiercely, as if he couldn't hold himself back any more – and finally, finally, Hermione was able to let go and feel swept away in his kiss, her eyes closing as she wound a hand through his hair, heatedly kissing him back.

"Did you like it?" Tracey wanted to know afterward, when they were changing in their dormitory, taking off their cloaks and trading outdoor boots for indoor ones. "Don't even deny it – I saw you go to the Shack with him."

"Yes," Hermione admitted, her face red. "It was… it was nice. Fun. Hot," she added, fanning herself. "It was so cold outside, but I ended up feeling so warm and flushed."

"Good snogging does that," Tracey said, nodding. She smirked. "If it's really good snogging, you'll have to change your knickers afterwards."

"Tracey!" Hermione exclaimed, and Tracey laughed.

"He's a good kisser, then?" she prompted, and Hermione considered.

"I mean, I guess so?" she said. "I enjoyed it, and it was clear he did too."

"You'd know if he was a bad kisser," Tracey informed her. "Boys who are bad kissers are much too wet, and they use too much tongue – basically slobbering all over you."

Hermione shuddered. "That's gross."

"It is," Tracey agreed. "Luckily, sounds like your boy has a bit of skill in that area after all." She paused, continuing a moment later, her voice all too casual. "I wonder if Blaise kissed Susan."

Hermione froze where she was, in the middle of changing her robes.

"Do you think he did?" Hermione asked her, her voice carefully neutral as she resumed putting her robes away. "Does he like her that much, do you think?"

"You don't have to fancy a person to snog them, really," Tracey reminded her. "And Susan's pretty. I think he might have."

Hermione wondered how she felt about that. Then she wondered if she should feel anything about that. It was none of her business who Blaise decided to kiss, right? Unless it somehow messed up the dynamic of their coven, it really was none of her business.

"Maybe," Hermione said firmly, dismissing it from her thoughts as she looked through her wardrobe. "Black velvet robes tonight, do you think?"

"Velvet?" Tracey raised an eyebrow. "Just for dinner?"

"Well, I'm going to go see Harry first. I got him all these sweets from Honeydukes, because he couldn't go," Hermione said, pulling out her new robe. "But Theo and some of the others wore velvet for the feast last year. It's Samhain, after all – dramatic velvet seems appropriate."

Tracey's reaction was immediate; she gasped, her eyes going wide before they narrowed to slits.

"It's Halloween, Hermione," Tracey hissed. Her eyes darted around the dormitory, but no one else was there. "No one calls it that anymore."

"The hedgewitches do," Hermione said stubbornly. "And they celebrate traditionally, too – none of this cheesy nonsense. They leap fires and leave offerings—"

"And they can get kidnapped and carried off to the land of the dead," Tracey snapped. "Merlin, Hermione, you were supposed to court the hedgewitches, not become one of them."

"It just makes more sense," Hermione said strenuously. "We're magic. Why are we celebrating muggle holidays, instead of the magical ones?"

"The Old Holidays are ways to do Dark magic," Tracey hissed at her. "The Dark Lord used them to do human sacrifices. The Ministry worked hard to ban celebrations like that after he fell. People really did do Dark magic on those days, Hermione. And the hedgewitches do try and steal magic."

Hermione thought back to the elation of the hedgewitches feeling the ley line magic she'd pulled into them, their reverence and awe. "I wouldn't say they try to steal magic from anybody…"

"We are not discussing this," Tracey said firmly. "We are getting dressed, you are going to go and give Potter his treats, and then we are going to the Halloween feast, where you will behave perfectly normally and not draw any undo attention to anything anyone is eating. Do you understand?"

It was like she was being dressed down by her mother, and Hermione's cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

"Yes, Tracey," she muttered insolently. "If you insist."

Blaise hadn't minded talking about the old holidays, though, her mind rebelled as she changed her robes. The hedgewitches still celebrated the old holidays, and there had been nothing Dark about their festival when she had gone in September. But people like Cedric and Tracey (and most people, really) still thought things like holidays and ley lines were Dark, even though they weren't. They weren't.

Hermione couldn't help but feel like one stupid person, Voldemort, had ruined something wonderful for everybody.

Hermione sent word through a Gryffindor first year to ask Harry to come out from the portrait hole. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw her, but it was a happy surprise.

"There's a cushioned window seat a floor up?" he suggested. He paused. "The Weasley Twins are testing something in the Common Room right now, so it's probably best you not go in there."

Hermione laughed. "Okay."

Harry was delighted by her visit, and he looked embarrassed when she not only showered him in sweets, but also new ink and quills for his homework assignments. She'd noticed the quills he used in Arithmancy getting raggedy with the tips chipped, and Harry wasn't the sort to think that he needed to replace his quills.

"So, how was it?" Harry asked. He gave her a melancholy smile. "Was is great?"

Obliging, Hermione told Harry about the village – the crowded nature of the Three Broomsticks, the charming nature of the little town, and thrill of the magical shops and places to go. Harry got a far-off expression on his face as Hermione described her experience, and Hermione wondered if him imagining it was better or worse than not telling him any details at all.

"Were you okay, up here alone at the castle?" Hermione asked him, biting her lip. "You must have felt isolated, with everyone else gone."

"Oh, I was fine," Harry said, waving her concern off. "I found things to do…"

Hermione raised her eyebrows at Harry, disbelieving, but Harry seemed determined to ignore her concern, busying himself with handing her a chocolate frog and unwrapping one of his own too. She unexpectedly pleased to see the card was Nimue – she had several Merlin cards, but she'd yet to find Morgana or Nimue to complete her Arthurian Legend set.

"Hey, Hermione," Harry said in a would-be casual voice. "You know how Snape hates Lupin?"

Hermione glanced up at him. "Yes…?"

"Do you think he would poison him? To get him out of the way?"

…What?

Hermione blinked, considered, and sat up straight, turning to look at Harry directly.

"Why don't you explain exactly what brings this to mind," she said pointedly, "and we'll start there."

Harry flushed lightly but obliged.

"Lupin saw me wandering around the castle and invited me to tea," Harry said. "I think he felt bad for me not being able to go to Hogsmeade with everyone else."

Hermione didn't doubt that. Lupin seemed the kind of person to take pity on Harry.

"He talked to me about classes a bit, and we were talking about dementors when Snape came in," Harry went on. "He gave Lupin a goblet that was smoking."

"Smoking?" Hermione said, surprised.

"Well, the potion inside of it was smoking," Harry amended. "Snape told Lupin he should drink it straightaway, and that there was an entire cauldronful should he need more."

"What did Lupin say?" Hermione asked, curious.

"Well, he said that it was to help him, that he'd been feeling a bit off-color," Harry admitted. "He said that the potion was the only thing that helped, and that it was a tricky potion, and he was lucky Snape was able to make for him."

Hermione blinked.

"And because Snape helped Lupin with whatever condition he has," she said slowly, "you suspect he poisoned him?"

Harry turned red.

"It sounds ridiculous when you put it that way," he muttered.

Hermione grinned.

"I'll say this," she said. "I don't doubt Professor Snape would be willing to poison someone if he thought he truly needed to. But I sincerely doubt he'd do so openly in front of a witness, or that he'd do so in a potion a person was clearly expecting him to deliver."

Harry made a bit of a face.

"It was just so odd, y'know?" he said. "It was smoking, Hermione. The empty goblet was smoking afterward as well…"

"Magic has a lot of odd things, Harry," Hermione chastised, smiling. "That's not reason enough alone to be suspicious."

"What did he even give him, though?" Harry wanted to know. "What kind of magical medicine smokes?"

"No idea," Hermione said, standing up. "But it's certainly something that can be looked up in the library – after the Halloween feast."