Disclaimer: I only own the plot , if any text from original source is used then they would belong to one and only J.K. Rowling. Hope You Like it.

Hermione, Ron, and Neville settled into the cozy Gryffindor common room, surrounded by warm firelight and comfortable chairs. The soft crackle of the flames filled the room as they reflected on Harry's recent visit to Godric's Hollow.

"I'm so glad Harry went to Godric's Hollow," Hermione said, her voice filled with empathy. "He needed closure."

Ron nodded vigorously. "Yeah, but it was tough seeing him like that – broken, red-eyed, and tear-stained. I've never seen him so vulnerable."

Neville's expression turned somber. "Harry never shows emotions easily. It's like he's always hiding behind a mask."

Ron leaned forward, his voice taking on a serious tone. "You know, Harry's never told us everything about his life. He's hidden a lot. There are things he's never shared with us."

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. "What do you mean, Ron?"

Ron's voice lowered, becoming more introspective. "I've known Harry since months , but there are things he's never talked about. Only one person knows everything about his home life – Ginny."

Neville raised an eyebrow. "Ginny?"

Ron nodded. "Yeah, Ginny. And she's promised him she won't reveal anything, won't break his trust."

Hermione's expression turned thoughtful. "That's understandable. Harry trusts Ginny implicitly."

Neville's voice tinged with skepticism. "There's no guarantee Harry's told Ginny everything, though. He's always been private."

Ron shrugged. "Maybe, but Ginny's the closest he's ever let anyone in. She knows him better than anyone."

Hermione's eyes sparkled. "And now they're together. Maybe Ginny can help him heal."

Ron smiled. "Yeah, Ginny's good for him. We should be happy for them."

Neville nodded slowly. "I just hope Harry finds peace."

Hermione nodded. "We'll always be here for him, no matter what."

Ron's voice filled with conviction. "We're his family."

As they continued discussing Harry's life, Neville's words lingered in the air – a reminder that even those closest to Harry might not know the full truth.

"I wonder what he's still hiding," Neville said, his brow furrowed.

Hermione's expression turned contemplative. "Maybe one day he'll trust us enough to share everything."

Ron's eyes locked onto the fire. "Until then, we'll just be here for him."

The three friends sat in comfortable silence, lost in thought, as the warm glow of the fire cast a reassuring light over the room.

As the evening sun cast a warm glow over Hogwarts, the students made their way to the Great Hall for dinner. The long tables, adorned with golden plates and goblets, shimmered in the soft light. However, the Gryffindor table seemed somewhat out of place, as only Hufflepuff students occupied its benches, a daily occurrence in Harry's absence.

Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher and Hufflepuff Head, sighed as she took in the scene. "It was lovely to see all four houses together at lunch this afternoon," she said. "But alas, it seems we've reverted to our usual divisions."

Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher and Ravenclaw Head, joined the conversation. "Indeed, Pomona. It's a shame, really. The camaraderie was palpable earlier."

Professor Snape, the Potions teacher and Slytherin Head, raised an eyebrow. "Yes, and it's striking how much Harry's presence influenced that unity. His... emotional state, aside, he has a unique ability to bring people together."

Professor Binns, the History teacher, nodded thoughtfully. "Harry's experiences have given him a distinct perspective. His ability to empathize with others transcends house divisions."

Professor Sinistra, the Astronomy teacher, gazed at the Hufflepuff students occupying the Gryffindor table. "It's as if he's the key to unlocking their collective potential."

Snape's expression turned contemplative, his eyes clouding over. He recalled witnessing Harry's broken state, seeing him cry alone in the shadows. Snape had been hiding, observing the young wizard's vulnerability.

"I wonder," Snape said, his voice low, "if Harry truly understands the sacrifices made for him. His parents' love, their ultimate sacrifice... it's astonishing he remains unaware."

Flitwick's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, Severus?"

Snape's mask slipped back into place. "Merely pondering the intricacies of Harry's past, Flitwick. Nothing more."

Binns leaned forward. "His past shapes him, indeed. Family's influence, in particular, has left its mark."

Snape's thoughts lingered on Petunia's deceit, telling Harry his parents were drunkards who died in a car accident. He wondered why she had distorted the truth, but kept this to himself.

As the professors continued their discussion, the Hufflepuff students at the Gryffindor table chatted and laughed, enjoying their unusual surroundings.

"Harry's presence changes everything," Sinistra said.

Sprout nodded. "We can only hope his return brings back the unity we glimpsed earlier."

The conversation blended with the hum of the Great Hall, a poignant reminder of Harry's impact on the Hogwarts community.

As the evening wore on, Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore joined the gathering, their presence commanding attention. McGonagall's sharp eyes scanned the room before settling on the group.

"Good evening, everyone," McGonagall said. "I trust you're all aware of Harry's plans?"

Dumbledore nodded, his eyes twinkling. "Yes, Minerva has kept me informed. Harry has just left for the Burrow, where he will spend the night before proceeding to Godric's Hollow tomorrow."

Flitwick's eyebrows rose. "Godric's Hollow? That's a poignant journey for him."

Snape's expression turned skeptical. "Indeed. I wonder if he's prepared for the emotions that will arise."

McGonagall's voice took on a stern tone. "Harry has made his decision, Severus. We must respect it."

Dumbledore's gentle voice soothed the tension. "Harry will not be attending classes tomorrow. He will return in time for the Halloween feast."

Binns nodded thoughtfully. "A wise decision, Albus. He needs this time."

Quirrell, who had been quietly observing the conversation, spoke up. "I'll ensure his lessons are covered, Minerva."

McGonagall nodded. "Thank you, Quirrell. Your support is appreciated."

Sinistra's eyes sparkled. "We'll all be thinking of Harry tomorrow."

Sprout smiled. "And supporting him upon his return."

As the professors continued discussing Harry's journey, Dumbledore's eyes lingered on Quirrell, his expression unreadable.

"Quirrell, have you noticed anything... unusual, lately?" Dumbledore asked.

Quirrell's eyes darted around the room before settling on Dumbledore. "Unusual, sir? I'm not sure what you mean."

Dumbledore's smile was enigmatic. "Merely asking, Quirrell. Carry on."

The conversation flowed on, but McGonagall's gaze remained fixed on Quirrell, her eyes narrowed in scrutiny.

"I'll keep an eye on him, Albus," McGonagall whispered to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore nodded, his eyes never leaving Quirrell's face. "Wise decision, Minerva."

That night, Dumbledore summoned Snape to his office, the dimly lit room filled with the scent of old books and wisdom. The flickering candles cast shadows on the walls as Snape entered, his eyes narrowing as he took in the serious expression on Dumbledore's face.

"Severus, I've called you here because I have concerns about Quirrell's behavior," Dumbledore said, his voice low and measured. "He's been acting strangely, and I fear something may be amiss."

Snape's eyebrows rose. "Indeed, Albus? I, too, have noticed a change in him. His stammering has become more pronounced, and at times, he seems almost... calculating."

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Yes, precisely. His behavior has changed significantly since his trip to Albania last year. I've observed him stumbling over words, yet occasionally, he seems lost in thought, planning something mysteriously."

Snape's expression turned thoughtful. "I've witnessed it myself, Albus. His demeanor is erratic, and I've begun to wonder if he's hiding something."

Dumbledore leaned forward, his eyes locked onto Snape's. "According to my sources, Voldemort was last seen in Albania. The connection cannot be ignored."

Snape's gaze snapped back to Dumbledore's, his eyes widening. "You suspect Quirrell's involvement with the Dark Lord?"

Dumbledore's voice remained calm. "I suspect nothing, Severus. But I do believe Quirrell's behavior warrants attention. We must consider the possibility that he may be attempting to steal the Philosopher's Stone."

Snape's jaw clenched. "An audacious plan, indeed. But what could Voldemort possibly gain from it?"

Dumbledore's expression turned grave. "Immortality, Severus. The Stone's power is limitless. Keep Quirrell under surveillance, Severus. I want to know his every move."

Snape nodded curtly. "I'll keep a close eye on him, Albus."

Dumbledore's eyes sparkled with gratitude. "I knew I could rely on you, Severus. Your discretion is invaluable."

As Snape departed, Dumbledore's gaze lingered on the door, his thoughts consumed by the looming darkness and the potential threat lurking within Hogwarts' walls.

"I fear we are on the cusp of something sinister," Dumbledore whispered to himself. "Severus must uncover Quirrell's true intentions before it's too late."

The next day, Hermione, Ron, and Neville gathered in the cozy Gryffindor common room, surrounded by warm firelight and comfortable chairs. They began by feeding Poco, Harry's little sparrow, who chirped happily as they offered him treats.

"Today's Halloween," Ron said, his voice filled with excitement.

Hermione nodded. "And Harry's at the Burrow. I wonder when he'll leave for Godric's Hollow."

Neville's expression turned somber. "I hope he's prepared for what he'll find there."

Ron's eyes clouded. "I wish we could be with him."

Hermione placed a reassuring hand on Ron's arm. "He needs to do this alone, Ron. It's his journey."

Poco fluttered to Hermione's shoulder, nuzzling her gently.

"I'll miss him today," Neville said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Hermione smiled softly. "We'll all miss him. But we'll be here for him when he returns."

Ron stood, pacing the room. "I hope Ginny's taking care of him."

Neville chuckled. "Ginny's always taken care of Harry."

Hermione's eyes sparkled. "And now they're together. That's something to celebrate."

As they continued talking, Poco chirped occasionally, as if joining in their conversation.

"Do you think Harry will find what he's looking for in Godric's Hollow?" Neville asked.

Ron's expression turned thoughtful. "I think he'll find answers, but also more questions."

Hermione nodded. "That's usually how it works with Harry."

Their conversation flowed on, filled with concern and support for their dear friend, Harry.

During breakfast in the Great Hall, Fred and George Weasley burst into the Gryffindor table, grinning mischievously.

"Morning, mates!" Fred exclaimed. "We've got some brilliant news!"

George chimed in, "The first Quidditch match of the season is scheduled for November 18!"

Hermione's eyes widened. "That's soon! Who's Gryffindor playing?"

Ron's face lit up. "Slytherin, of course! It's always Gryffindor vs Slytherin first match!"

Neville's eyes sparkled. "And it'll be Harry's first match as Seeker!"

Fred nodded enthusiastically. "Exactly! Harry's going to crush it!"

George chuckled. "We've already started working on some new pranks to distract the Slytherin players."

Ron laughed. "You two are genius!

Hermione smiled. "But let's focus on supporting Harry. This is a big game for him."

Neville nodded. "We'll all be there, cheering him on."

Fred grinned. "We'll make sure the whole stadium is filled with Gryffindor pride!"

George winked. "And a few surprise pranks, of course."

The group's excitement grew as they discussed the upcoming match, their enthusiasm filling the Great Hall.

"This is going to be an epic season!" Ron exclaimed.

Hermione smiled. "With Harry on the team, I know we'll win."

Neville's face set in determination. "We'll show Slytherin what Gryffindor's made of."

As breakfast concluded, the group dispersed, already counting down the days until the November 18 match.

"We'll make this a match to remember!" Fred called out, as he and George departed.

George chuckled. "And Harry's going to be the star of the show!"

The Great Hall buzzed with excitement as the news of the first Quidditch match spread like wildfire. Students from all four houses eagerly discussed the upcoming Gryffindor vs Slytherin showdown, scheduled for November 18.

Rivalries between houses still simmered, with a particular edge between Slytherin and the other three houses. However, among the first years, this animosity was noticeably absent.

"That's because we're still getting used to it all," a Ravenclaw first-year, Anthony Goldstein, said to his friend, Terry Boot.

Terry nodded. "And most of us don't really know what the rivalry's about yet."

The exception to this was students like Draco Malfoy, Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, and Theodore Nott, who already embodied Slytherin's contentious spirit.

But Crabbe, surprisingly, seemed almost neutral. Harry's kindness in teaching him flying without discrimination had made a lasting impression.

"I don't know, Draco," Crabbe said, "Harry's not so bad. He taught me some sweet flying moves."

Draco scowled. "You're not supposed to be friends with him, Crabbe."

A third factor contributed to the reduced tension among first years: Harry's efforts to bridge the gap between houses. Since his arrival, he had actively sought to bring students together.

"I think Harry's doing a great job," a Hufflepuff first-year, Hannah Abbott, said. "He's really trying to make us all get along."

Her friend, Ernie Macmillan, nodded. "It's working, too. I've made friends with some Gryffindors and Ravenclaws."

While progress was slow, especially among older students, Harry's initiatives had created a ripple effect.

"It's a start," Ron Weasley said to Hermione. "Maybe one day we'll all be able to put the rivalries aside."

Hermione smiled. "With Harry leading the way, anything's possible."

As the Great Hall continued to hum with excitement, the November 18 match loomed large, promising an electrifying display of Quidditch and house spirit.

"This is going to be epic!" Neville Longbottom exclaimed.

The first years, free from the burdens of long-standing rivalries, eagerly anticipated the match, their enthusiasm undimmed by animosity.

"Let's just enjoy the game!" Anthony Goldstein called out.

The Great Hall echoed with laughter and anticipation, the stage set for an unforgettable Quidditch season.

Professor Dumbledore's warm smile spread across the Great Hall as he stood to address the students.

"My dear young friends," he began, "today being All Hallows' Eve, or Halloween as it is more commonly known, I have a special announcement to make."

The students' eyes sparkled with anticipation.

"Considering the festive atmosphere that pervades this day, I have decided to cancel the last two classes of the day," Dumbledore declared.

The Great Hall erupted into cheers and applause.

"Only the first three classes will take place today," Dumbledore continued, his eyes twinkling. "The remainder of the day will be yours to enjoy as you see fit."

Ron Weasley grinned at Hermione and Neville. "Brilliant! More time for rest !"

Hermione rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "I think I'll use the time to catch up on some reading."

Neville chuckled. "You're always studying, Hermione."

Fred and George Weasley, seated nearby, exchanged mischievous glances.

"Today just got a whole lot better," Fred whispered.

George nodded. "Time to work on some new pranks."

Draco Malfoy, sitting at the Slytherin table, scowled.

"This is ridiculous," he muttered to Goyle. "We should be focusing on our studies."

Goyle shrugged. "Come on, Draco. It's Halloween. Lighten up."

As the students continued to celebrate, Dumbledore's warm voice cut through the din.

"I trust you will all use this gift of time wisely," he said, his eyes sparkling. "And, of course, be mindful of the castle's rules and regulations."

The first years, particularly excited by the unexpected reprieve, chattered eagerly among themselves.

"This is the best Halloween ever!" Anthony Goldstein exclaimed.

Terry Boot nodded. "Definitely one to remember."

With the announcement, the Great Hall transformed into a hub of joyful chaos, students eagerly anticipating their abbreviated day and the freedom that came with it.

Hermione, Ron, and Neville joined the Ravenclaws in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, where Professor Quirrell awaited. His turban-clad head nodded in greeting as he began.

"Welcome, students. T-t-today, we'll explore Imps, Ghosts, and H-h-hags," Quirrell stuttered.

Ron whispered to Hermione, "This is going to be a snooze-fest without Harry."

Hermione nodded discreetly. "Yes, Quirrell always tries harder when Harry's around."

Neville leaned in. "Harry's questions always make the lessons more interesting."

Other students murmured in agreement, missing Harry's unique perspective.

"Imps, as you know, are mischievous creatures..." Quirrell droned on.

Seamus Finnigan yawned, and Dean Thomas stifled a grin.

"Ghostly apparitions, on the other hand, are often harmless..." Quirrell continued.

Anthony Goldstein whispered to Terry Boot, "Remember when Harry asked about the difference between ghosts and specters?"

Terry chuckled. "Quirrell was stumped."

Hermione took diligent notes, while Ron and Neville exchanged occasional glances.

Unbeknownst to the students, Quirrell's demeanor was a facade. Voldemort's instructions echoed in his mind: "Keep Harry close, Quirrell. He may prove useful in the future."

Quirrell's hatred for Harry simmered beneath the surface, but he dare not defy his Dark Lord's orders.

A bored groan spread through the classroom as Quirrell's monotone continued.

"As for Hags..." Quirrell's voice trailed off.

"Any questions?" Quirrell asked, hoping no one would respond.

Ron raised his hand. "Professor, how do we defend against Imps?"

Quirrell's stutter returned. "W-w-well, Ron, Imps are vulnerable to s-s-silver and..."

The lesson concluded, and students filed out, relieved.

"That was painful," Seamus said.

Dean chuckled. "Harry always makes D.A.D.A. interesting."

Hermione nodded. "We miss him already."

Ron grinned. "And Quirrell's usual enthusiasm – or lack thereof."

As they departed, Neville whispered, "I think Quirrell's hiding something."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "We'll keep an eye on him."

Hermione, Ron, and Neville proceeded to the Double Charms classroom, where they joined the Slytherin students. Professor Flitwick, perched on a stool, greeted them warmly.

"Welcome, young witches and wizards! Today, we'll learn the Levitation Charm, Wingardium Leviosa."

Flitwick wrote the incantation on the blackboard and began, "First, let's focus on pronunciation. Repeat after me: Wing-gar-dee-um Levi-o-sa."

The students repeated the incantation, Flitwick correcting their pronunciation.

"Excellent! Now, let's move on to the wand movement. A smooth, flowing motion, thus..." Flitwick demonstrated.

Ron turned to Neville, grinning. "This is going to be easy."

Neville chuckled. "Don't get too confident, Ron."

Flitwick continued, "Now, combine the incantation and wand movement. Remember, precision is key."

As the students mastered the technique, Flitwick announced, "Time for practical application! Pair up, please."

Ron turned to Neville. "Partner?"

Neville smiled. "Obviously."

However, Hermione's eyes widened in dismay as Flitwick paired her with Draco.

"Malfoy, you're with Granger," Flitwick said, oblivious to the tension.

Draco's expression mirrored Hermione's disgust.

"Delightful," Draco muttered.

Hermione's voice was icy. "I'd rather not."

It was difficult to tell who was more annoyed, Draco or Hermione. Draco's eyes flashed with resentment, while Hermione's face set in determination.

"Let's get this over with," Draco growled.

Hermione's response was cool. "I'll make sure to levitate something impressive, just to prove a point."

The pairs began practicing the Levitation Charm, Ron and Neville working harmoniously, while Draco and Hermione exchanged tense whispers.

Hermione stood poised, her wand gliding effortlessly through the air as she practiced the Levitation Charm's wand movement. Lost in concentration, she didn't notice the other students settling around her.

Draco, about to begin his own practice, caught sight of Hermione's elegant movements. His gaze lingered, transfixed by the fluid motion of her wand.

"Blimey," Draco thought to himself, "she's actually... beautiful."

He noticed the contours of her face, her bright eyes, and her determined expression. Even her bucked teeth seemed endearing.

Draco's face began to burn with a slight blush, and he mentally rebuked himself.

"What am I thinking?" he chided. "She's a Mudblood, a low-class girl. I mustn't have such thoughts."

As a Slytherin, Draco had been taught to value pure-blood lineage above all else.

"Focus on your own kind, Draco," he reminded himself.

Despite his mental reprimand, a faint pink hue remained on his cheeks.

Just then, Professor Flitwick interrupted Draco's thoughts.

"Alright, students! Now that you've practiced the wand movement, let's try levitating these feathers."

Flitwick placed a small feather in front of each pair of students.

Ron grinned at Neville. "Time to show off our skills."

Neville chuckled. "Bring it on."

Hermione, still focused on her wand movement, didn't notice Draco's brief admiration. She turned to him, her expression professional.

"Shall we begin?" she asked coolly.

Draco's mask of indifference slipped back into place.

"Let's get this over with," he replied gruffly.

The pairs prepared to cast the Levitation Charm, unaware of the fleeting spark of attraction that had flickered Draco towards Hermione.

The students began practically levitating feathers, their wands waving in various degrees of success.

Seamus, unfortunately, got a bit too enthusiastic and accidentally burned his feather.

"Whoops!" Seamus exclaimed.

Ron and Neville chuckled, focusing on their own attempts.

Hermione, meanwhile, stood calm and composed, her mind centered on the task.

That's when she noticed Draco, his wand shaking violently as he pronounced the incantation incorrectly.

"Wait, stop!" Hermione instinctively grabbed Draco's wrist.

"You'll take someone's eye out!" she rebuked. "And you're saying it wrong."

Draco flushed, embarrassed by both his antics and Hermione's sudden grip on his hand.

He jerked his hand free, muttering, "Why don't you do it, then, if you know so much?"

Hermione grinned coolly. "Wingardium Leviosa."

With one elegant swish and flick of her wand, the feather levitated effortlessly.

Professor Flitwick squealed in delight.

"Ah, excellent! Hermione Granger, you're the first to succeed! 10 points to Gryffindor!"

Draco's face flushed deeper, his thoughts swirling with anger and annoyance toward Hermione.

Yet, amidst the frustration, he caught himself thinking she looked... elegant, maybe even cute.

"Wait, what?" Draco's inner voice protested. "Cute? No, no, no. This isn't right."

He mentally recoiled, horrified by his own reaction.

"It's just not right," Draco thought, struggling to reconcile his Slytherin pride with his unwanted admiration for a Mudblood.

As Hermione smiled, accepting Flitwick's praise, Draco's turmoil intensified, his emotions warring within.

The class continued, with more students successfully levitating feathers. Ron and Neville chuckled as they mastered the charm, while Hermione smirked, her earlier success still shining.

Draco, however, remained struggling, his turmoil consuming him.

"Concentrate, Malfoy!" Flitwick encouraged.

But Draco's mind wandered, his unwanted feelings for Hermione swirling like a vortex.

"Today's lesson has shown us the Levitation Charm's potential," Flitwick said, writing on the blackboard. "It can be used to lift objects, open doors, and even levitate people."

Draco's gaze drifted, his ears hearing but not registering the words.

As the class concluded, students packed their bags and began filing out.

"I'm off to the library," Hermione said to Ron and Neville. "I need to research for Transfiguration."

"Meet you in the common room later?" Ron asked.

Hermione nodded and departed.

Neville turned to Ron. "Let's grab some butterbeers."

Draco, lost in thought, lagged behind.

He couldn't shake off the feelings Hermione had stirred.

"This is unacceptable," Draco muttered to himself. "I'm a Slytherin, a pure-blood. I will not be swayed by a Mudblood."

Determined to quash his emotions, Draco made a decision.

"I'll show her," he whispered, his eyes narrowing. "I'll prove I'm superior."

With a newfound resolve, Draco set off to find a way to eradicate his unwanted feelings.

"I'll consult with Father," he thought. "He'll know what to do. No what will he think then."

The Dark Arts and pure-blood pride would prevail; Draco would ensure it.

As he walked, Draco's footsteps grew more purposeful, his heart hardened against the unwanted vulnerability Hermione had exposed.

Draco navigated the deserted corridor, his eyes scanning for Hermione. He spotted her walking alone, her books clutched tightly, and his heart quickened.

"This is it," Draco thought, his resolve solidifying. "I'll end these feelings once and for all."

He swiftly closed the distance, grasping Hermione's arm.

Hermione turned, her eyes questioning. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

Draco's face flushed, and he hastily released her arm. "I...I just wanted to talk to you," he stammered.

"About what?" Hermione asked coldly, her eyes narrowing.

Draco murmured incoherently, his thoughts racing.

"Wait, do I have feelings for her?" he thought. "No, absolutely not."

"You think you're so special, don't you? Mastering that Levitation Charm before anyone else."

"Is that what's bothering you?" Hermione asked, her voice laced with amusement.

"No, it's just...you're not better than me," Draco snapped. "You're inferior to all pure-bloods. I'm superior to you."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Inferior? Based on what?"

"Bloodline, of course," Draco replied, his voice dripping with arrogance. "My family's legacy, our purity...you're just a Mudblood, a mix of magic and Muggle filth."

"That's not what matters," Hermione said firmly. " Intelligence, courage, and heart are what truly make a person worthy."

Draco sneered. "You're just an insufferable know-it-all, always forcing your knowledge and presence on others. You don't have true friends. They'll ignore you if they can."

Hermione's expression remained calm, but a hint of anger sparked in her eyes. "That's not true. Ron and Neville value me for who I am."

Draco's face burned as he continued, "And you're not beautiful...your teeth are...ugly." His words faltered, as if he struggled to convince himself.

"I'll never, in my right mind, fall for a Mudblood like you," Draco spat, his voice venomous. "You're beneath me, Granger. Don't ever think you're worthy of someone like me."

With a final, contemptuous glance, Draco turned and strode away, leaving Hermione standing alone in the corridor.

The silence hung heavy, punctuated only by Draco's fading footsteps.

"I'll never feel this way again," Draco muttered to himself, his pure-blood pride reasserting itself. "She's nothing but a Mudblood."

Draco walked back to the Slytherin common room, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts. The dimly lit corridors seemed to mirror his turbulent emotions, the shadows cast by the flickering torches dancing across the walls like his own inner demons.

"I did the right thing," he told himself, trying to sound convinced. "I won't ever feel that way again for Hermione, no Granger, no Mudblood. She's beneath me, a blood traitor, a Gryffindor."

But doubts crept in, insidious and persistent.

"Yes, that's what she is, right?" Draco thought, his inner voice uncertain. "A Mudblood, tainted by Muggle blood. Not worthy of my family's name."

He quickened his pace, as if trying to outrun his thoughts, his footsteps echoing off the stone walls.

"I will never feel that again," Draco repeated, his mental mantra. "I'm a pure-blood, a Malfoy. I have my family's legacy to uphold."

The weight of his family's expectations pressed down on him like a physical force, the burden of their noble heritage.

"But she's intelligent, talented," a voice within him whispered. "And beautiful."

Draco's mind recoiled at the admission.

"No!" he mentally rebuked himself. "You're a pure-blood, Malfoy. You can't sully your family's name with feelings for a Mudblood."

The memory of Hermione's association with Harry Potter surfaced, a bitter taste in his mouth.

"She's Potter's friend," Draco thought, a pang of unease creeping in. "Perhaps more than that."

The possibility of something more between Hermione and Harry made Draco's stomach twist with envy.

"But what if she is more?" a voice within him asked.

Draco rationalized.

"Potter already has a girlfriend, Ginny Weasley," he thought. "That means Hermione's just a friend."

That thought brought a mixture of relief and curiosity.

"This is just wrong," Draco chastised himself. "I'm a Slytherin, a pure-blood. I shouldn't care about a Mudblood's feelings."

"She's a Mudblood," he reiterated, the words a shield against his own vulnerability.

"I did right by insulting her," Draco attempted to convince himself. "I protected my family's honor."

The image of Hermione potentially crying, however, flickered in his mind, a persistent ghost.

"What if she is crying?" Draco wondered.

His initial response was callous.

"So what if she is?" Draco tried to sound indifferent. "She's nothing to me."

But the question lingered.

"Do I care?" Draco wondered.

His inner turmoil remained, unresolved.

As Draco entered the Slytherin common room, his expression masked his internal conflict. The warm fire and comfortable chairs seemed to envelop him in a sense of security, but his mind remained elsewhere.

Pansy Parkinson, a fellow Slytherin, approached him.

"Draco, what's wrong?" she asked, noticing his troubled expression.

Draco forced a smile.

"Nothing, Pansy," he replied. "Just tired."

Pansy's eyes narrowed.

"Is everything okay with your father?" she asked.

Draco's mask slipped for a moment.

"Everything's fine," he assured her.

Pansy seemed skeptical but dropped the subject.

Draco's thoughts, however, remained with Hermione.

"What have I done?" he silently wondered.

The common room's tranquility failed to calm his racing mind.

Had he truly ended his feelings for Hermione, or had he merely suppressed them?

Only time would tell.

As the time wore on, Draco's inner conflict deepened, his emotions tangled in a web of pride, loyalty, and forbidden attraction.

As Draco departed, Hermione's composure crumbled, like a fragile facade shattered by the harsh words he had hurled at her. She had maintained a calm exterior during their confrontation, but now his insults cut deep, piercing her very soul.

Tears streamed down her face, hot and unchecked, as the weight of Draco's venom settled in. The dimly lit corridor seemed to darken further, as if the shadows themselves were closing in on her.

"The Mudblood slur stung," Hermione admitted to herself, the word's venomous history etched in her mind. But she had grown accustomed to its bite, having faced it countless times before.

However, being called ugly struck a nerve, exposing a hidden vulnerability. Hermione's inner voice whispered, "He only said it to hurt me." Yet, a lingering doubt remained, "But do I really have ugly teeth?" She recalled Draco's stammering, his face flushed with embarrassment.

Hermione's thoughts shifted to Draco's accusation, "insufferable know-it-all." The phrase echoed through her mind like a haunting melody.

"Am I?" she wondered, uncertainty creeping in. Memories of her Muggle school days resurfaced, where classmates bullied her with similar taunts.

"Teachers' pet, know-it-all," the echoes of past ridicule whispered, stirring old wounds.

But it was Draco's claim that "she had no true friends" that truly wounded her. The words sliced through her defenses, striking at the very heart of her relationships.

"Do I really have friends?" Hermione's doubts crept in, like shadows seeping into the corridor.

"Harry, Neville, Ron – they're my true friends, aren't they?" she reassured herself, conjuring images of their shared adventures, laughter, and support.

"Yes, I'm not wasting time on this," Hermione resolved, squaring her shoulders.

But the question lingered, refusing to be silenced.

"Or am I just convincing myself?" Hermione's uncertainty resurfaced, like a persistent ghost.

As she stood alone in the corridor, Hermione's tears slowed, her breathing steadying.

"Harry, Neville, and Ron care for me, don't they?" she thought, seeking reassurance.

She recalled their countless moments of camaraderie: studying together, exploring Hogwarts, and facing dangers side by side.

"Of course, they do," Hermione's confidence returned, her inner voice firm.

Yet, Draco's words continued to haunt her, their venom lingering.

"Maybe I'm just blind to reality," Hermione's uncertainty resurfaced, like a mirage on a desert horizon.

As the corridor's silence seemed to echo with Draco's parting words, Hermione took a deep breath.

"I know what I have," she affirmed, her voice barely above a whisper.

"True friends, who accept me for who I am."

But the shadow of doubt lingered, a faint specter.

"Or do I?" Hermione's inner turmoil whispered.

With renewed determination, Hermione wiped away her tears.

"I won't let his venom consume me," she vowed.

She squared her shoulders, her eyes drying.

"I have friends, and that's all that matters."

Hermione made her way back to the Gryffindor common room, Draco's words still echoing in her mind. "She has no true friends." The painful sting lingered.

As she entered, her puffy eyes scanned the room, seeking comfort. Ron and Neville sat together, engrossed in conversation. Hermione approached, but halted mid-step.

She overheard snippets of their discussion, and her curiosity got the better of her. "They're talking about me," she thought, her ears perking up.

"I'm not eavesdropping," Hermione justified to herself. "It's about me, after all."

Ron's voice drifted over, "Without Harry, it's kind of lonely here."

Neville responded, "Yes, Hermione is there, but she's not a boy!"

Hermione's anxiety dissipated, replaced by relief.

Then Ron said, "When I first saw Hermione, she seemed bossy, just a little bit."

Neville nodded, "Maybe because she never had friends."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief again, thinking, "At least they understand me."

But then Neville added, "And she can be a bit of a know-it-all."

Ron chimed in, "Yeah, but that's just Hermione."

Their words stung Hermione, triggering her vulnerability.

"How could they?" Hermione thought, hurt and betrayal welling up.

She turned and ran out of the common room, tears streaming down her face.

Unaware of Hermione's departure, Ron and Neville continued their conversation.

"Whatever it is, she's our friend and a true one," Ron said.

Neville nodded, "She always helps us, along with Harry."

Ron added, "And now that Harry's busy with Quidditch practice, it's usually Hermione who helps us out."

With a chuckle, Ron joked, "She's our know-it-all."

Little did they know, their words had just pierced Hermione's fragile heart.

Hermione fled the common room, tears streaming down her face. She hastened to the second-floor bathroom, seeking solitude. Locking herself inside, she surrendered to her emotions.

"How could they?" Hermione sobbed, her body shaking with anguish.

"Ron and Neville, my supposed friends, talking behind my back," she thought, the pain acute.

"They don't understand me at all," Hermione's inner voice lamented.

"Draco was right," Hermione conceded, her heart heavy. "I have no friends at all."

She cursed herself, "Why did I ever think they cared? I'm just a fool."

Hermione's thoughts spiralled downward, darkness enveloping her.

"Harry must feel the same way," Hermione assumed, her faith shattered.

"I'm just a burden to them," she thought, tears flowing uncontrollably.

As she wept, Hermione remained oblivious to the conversation unfolding in the common room.

Ron turned to Neville, "You know, Neville, Hermione's always there for us."

Neville nodded, "Yeah, she's our rock, along with Harry."

Ron smiled, "And she's not just smart, she's got heart."

Just a few minutes earlier, Hermione had fled, unaware of their heartfelt words.

If only she had waited, she would have realized that Ron and Neville genuinely valued her friendship.

Alas, Hermione's misunderstanding had already taken root.

As she cried, the bathroom's cold tiles seemed to mirror her shattered heart.

"I'm alone," Hermione whispered to herself, the echo of her own voice haunting.

Little did she know, her true friends were just a door away, ready to dispel her doubts and reaffirm their loyalty.

The evening sun cast a warm glow over Hogwarts, signaling the approach of dinner. Harry stepped out of Professor McGonagall's fireplace, his face radiant with joy.

He looked like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and his eyes sparkled with happiness.

"Ah, Harry! You look positively beaming," McGonagall observed, a warm smile spreading across her face.

"I feel amazing, Professor," Harry replied, his grin still plastered on his face.

McGonagall's curiosity was piqued. "And what's behind this newfound radiance?" she asked.

Harry's eyes twinkled. "I just returned from Godric's Hollow. It was incredibly emotional, but I finally found closure."

McGonagall's expression softened. "I'm glad to hear that, Harry."

Harry's face flushed slightly. "And there's more, Professor. I confessed my feelings to Ginny, and she feels the same way."

McGonagall's smile broadened. "Congratulations, Harry! I'm delighted for you both."

Harry's happiness was infectious, and McGonagall found herself caught up in his enthusiasm.

"I must say, you're looking rather relieved," McGonagall noted.

Harry nodded vigorously. "I am, Professor. I've been carrying around so much emotional baggage, but now it's gone."

McGonagall's eyes shone with warmth. "You deserve every ounce of happiness, Harry. Now, shall we head to dinner?"

Harry chuckled. "I'm starving, Professor!"

Harry burst into the Gryffindor common room, eager to share the thrilling news about his confession to Ginny. His face still radiated joy, and his eyes sparkled with excitement.

As he entered, Ron and Neville sat near the fireplace, engrossed in conversation. They looked up, noticing Harry's beaming expression.

"Blimey, Harry! You look like you've won the Quidditch World Cup!" Ron exclaimed.

Neville grinned. "What's behind that smile?"

Harry's eyes twinkled, but before he could share his news, he asked, "Where's Hermione?"

Ron and Neville exchanged shrugs.

"She went to the library after Charms and hasn't returned yet," Neville replied.

Ron chimed in, "Maybe she'll come straight to the Great Hall for the feast."

Harry's brow furrowed, sensing something amiss. Although Ron and Neville seemed truthful, unease crept over him.

"Okay," Harry said, trying to shake off the feeling.

Ron stood up, stretching. "Shall we head to dinner? I'm starving!"

Neville nodded, and the trio made their way toward the portrait hole.

As they stepped through the portrait, Harry glanced back, his thoughts lingering on Hermione's absence.

"Hope she's alright," Harry thought, a faint concern creeping into his mind.

The portrait hole swung shut behind them, leaving the common room empty and quiet, awaiting Hermione's return.

Next Chapter is Halloween Night !

A/n: I hope You like it. Please ignore grammatical and spelling errors. Well , this was what happened when Harry was at Godric's Hollow. Yes , well I thought that Draco will have a crush on Hermione. And he felt the thought revolting so he insulted her to ease himself but did he ? And yes , at present only Harry and Ginny are a couple and they always will be , but about others I can try various experiments. I mean , no other is meant to be , and nor they are mature like Harry and Ginny, so they will have various relationships in future. I have that liberty only for other characters. And now , yet I have not decided that will it be Romione or Dramione . May be Draco and Hermione will have a relationship and then they will break up and Romione will form or may be vice verca , I am not sure now and even if I am , I am not telling you. Thanks for reading. § Hinny Forever § Please Review!!!