Chapter Four

Hermione huffed as she finally made it to the top of the steps of the North Tower, bending over the stitch in her side. For the first time, she was thankful that she was the last person to a room as she briefly leaned against the cool stone wall, exhausted from the day's events.

And to think, I'll only have to do this many times a day…

As Hermione entered, she was sure this wasn't the same cramped Divination classroom she had briefly attended during third year. Gone were the overstuffed chairs and small round tables covered in shawls. The air was clear of all cloying perfume, and the walls devoid of the dusty knick-knacks Professor Trelawney had accumulated over the years. The room looked larger now, open and airy with a tall vaulted ceiling. Despite it, it resembled the Gryffindor common room a bit with cozy looking armchairs and tables for studying. It gave her a warm and homey feeling. Instead of the usual red and gold lion banner, however, all of the house banners were on display along the circular stone walls.

At the whoosh behind her, she turned to see McGonagall walk out of the enormous fireplace amid green flames.

Hermione and Neville shared a brief, curious look. The steepled witches hat McGonagall had worn for the feast was gone. Now that Hermione was closer to the Headmistresses, she noted that throughout her tightly pulled back black hair, streaks of grey were more pronounced, and the worry lines on her forehead seemed to be etched deeper than before. Having to repair and take on the burden of the school after the battle had clearly taken a physical toll on her former head of house.

She regarded them each thoughtfully. "I have to say, having an Eighth year is quite unprecedented. You are the first ever in Hogwarts history. This has been a year of many firsts, to say the least," she said then cleared her throat. "Because of this unusual situation, I've decided your own quarters would be best. Occupant lists are posted on the doors. I expect you all to lay aside your house differences for the promotion of harmony after these troubling times."

She glanced sternly around the encircled group. "You are all adults now, and as such, you will be afforded more freedoms. From Saturday morning until Sunday evening, you will be allowed to leave school premises."

Many of the students turned to each other and grinned, the curious atmosphere becoming one of excitement. "Of course, you will have to sign out with your heads of houses, and if there are any problems, this privilege could be revoked. As adults, I expect you all to act with responsibility and decorum. All other school rules will apply to you as you complete your education here. Are there any questions?"

"Professor?" Mandy asked, her hand in the air.

"Yes, Miss Brocklehurst?"

"Are we allowed to play Quidditch? On our house team I mean?" Amoung Hermione's vague Quidditch memories, she recalled the swarthy Ravenclaw as the Beater for her team in their sixth year.

Professor McGonagall smiled, "Considering the reduction in size of the other years, I wouldn't object to any eighth years playing for their Quidditch team."

With no other questions at that time, Professor McGonagall bid them all goodnight, but before turning back towards the fireplace, she beaconed Hermione to her. "Miss Granger, a word please?"

Hermione's heart thudded loudly against her ribs. Does she know? How could she know? She swallowed thickly and walked to the fireplace, out of earshot of the disbursing eighth years.

"I'm sure you are aware that Miss Weasley was awarded the privilege of Head Girl," she said, her green eyes softening. Hermione was, and had been present when Ginny read the letter aloud to her proud family. Molly had been absolutely beside herself with joy, whipping up a cake for her only daughter that even Fleur had admired.

Deep down inside herself, a part she now called "Old Hermione", she had seethed with jealousy.

"I wanted to tell you that I'm sorry that it couldn't be you. You obviously would have been had..." she trailed off and Hermione filled in the blanks.

Had you returned last year. Had a murderous lunatic not invaded the school. Had you not ruined your own future.

"Of course, I understand. Ginny will do a great job." The words rang hollow in her own ears.

Professor McGonagall seemed to want to say more on the matter, but instead gave Hermione a thin-lipped smile, a pat on the shoulder, and said "Well, you'll have more time for your studies this term, anyway" before turning to exit how she had come in.

Hermione sighed wearily, heading up the staircase along the wall to her room and wished with all her might that there was a spell that could halt time itself. She could live forever in a time in-between and hide like the coward she now knew she was.

In a small way, she was glad she would no longer be confined in the tower with her fellow Gryffindors. She didn't deserve the right to call herself a brave lion anymore.

Her journey to her room was blocked by the group of students gathered on the balcony before the four doors. Well, technically it was two groups, Hermione realized - the Slytherins and everyone else.

"I meant what I said, Macmillan. It is absolute rubbish that I'll have to share a room with you. Tell me, do all of you Hufflepuffs burrow under the rug when it's time for lights out? I need to know so I don't trip, you see," Zabini said scornfully, his handsome features marred by cruel, dark eyes and a smirk.

But he doesn't do it as well as a Malfoy, Hermione's sleepy brain rambled. Malfoy's are the best at smirking and sneering and all manners of ridicule.

The two Slytherin girls stood at either side of him, facing the others. Malfoy stood away from them, closest to the last door on the left, and watched the exchange with boredom as if a fight was the least interesting thing in the world to him. His eyes briefly caught hers for the second time that day, and she quickly looked away.

Ernie Macmillan looked about ready to explode with anger. His face was blotchy red and a vein pounded at his temple as he inched towards the taller boy. "Well no one wants to sleep in a dorm with a bloody Death Eater," he glared pointedly at Malfoy, "or any of you slimy lot for that matter either! You should slither back to the hole you call a dormitory!"

At that, Zabini's hand shot into his robes.

Hermione was suddenly wide awake, and her wand out of her pocket and in her hand faster than she had time to mentally process what she was doing. Her non-verbal protego charm caused the two encroaching groups to spring apart from the invisible shield she had created between them.

She tried her best to keep her voice from shaking as she addressed the two in the center of the commotion. "Listen, it has been a long day for us all, and we could use some rest. If you want to discuss sleeping arrangements with McGonagall, it will have to wait until the morning. How about tonight we enact a temporary truce and head to bed?"

Ernie paused in thought, his jaw still grinding, but slowly nodded at her and begrudgingly held his hand to Zabini.

Zabini, his eyes now slits of disdain, walked past the hand extended of truce and into his shared room. Everyone else followed suit soon after.

Hermione's thumping heart had settled by the time she susssed out her own sleeping arrangements. Each of the four four-poster beds had its own corner with their school trunks sitting at the end. The girls she would be sharing the dorm with - Parvati, Hannah, and Susan - were in the process of getting changed into their pajamas.

"Good call on the shield, Hermione," Parvati smiled at her as she buttoned up her silk nightshirt. "I hope the boys won't be that mental for the rest of term."

She huffed a tired laugh, "Yeah, I hope so, too," and accio'ed her own PJ set from her open trunk, heading to their shared lavatory with them in hand.

I really, truly hope so.

The letter in Hermione's hand was already crumpled in her excitement as she hurried along the corridors to the west tower on her first Friday back at school. While she knew her free period would be better used for catching up, she just couldn't wait another minute to reach the owlery.

Her first week had rushed by in a flurry of parchment and ink as she acclimated back to the hectic pace of Hogwarts. Others in her year were already floundering at the new pile of assignments and books to read, but Hermione welcomed their return with open arms. She had easily fallen back into her old study habits, and while she hadn't read her textbooks before the start of term as normal, she was confident she could finish them before the coming weekend.

The endless summer days of disquiet already seemed light-years away as she fell back into the regimented structure of school days.

With her confidence returning slowly, she was treated to good news that had flew in with the post that morning at breakfast.

Harry had owl'ed her, inquiring about Hogwarts and the repairs and how she was doing. Auror training was difficult, but not impossible, and, oh, he and Ron were able to get time off next weekend to celebrate her birthday.

Her heart had leapt at reading the words, and for the first time in a while, she had beamed.

While classes proceeded like normal, Hermione sometimes felt she wasn't in the same place that had held such wonderful memories. It was lovely see see Ginny, Luna, Neville, Hagrid, and even Pavarti, but the two faces she wanted to see the most were gone, and a part of her heart with them.

Just as she reached the steps to the owlery, Hermione was not prepared for the arm that reached out and yanked her into a classroom.

She twisted out of the grip of her assailant, and the expression on Malfoy's pale, pointed face turned to shock as he dropped to the ground to avoid her binding spell. It barely missed his ear.

"Malfoy! How dare you manhandle me, you-"

"Bloody twit, you could have taken my head off!" He wailed and jumped up, brushing the dust from his cloak. "You've been avoiding me this whole week. What other option did you leave me?"

"I have not been avoiding you. You could have sent me an owl!"

"And have it ignored? Or better yet, get the whole castle gossiping as to why I would be sending you a note? My owl is quite recognizable, you know."

"You could have used a school one," Hermione seethed, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Malfoy chose to ignore her logic. "So?" He asked instead, avoiding her eyes by staring at the entrance behind her.

"So, what?" She asked, flicking an invisible bit of lint from her arm. If he wanted to be a prat, well then, so could she.

"The baby!" He shouted then looked at the closed door nervously as if Filch were just outside it, preparing to pounce.

She cast a muffliato spell behind her and took a deep breath, willing her rising blood pressure to settle. "I scheduled a doctor's visit tomorrow to get checked out. A doctor is a muggle heal-"

"I know what a bloody doctor is Granger!" Malfoy exclaimed, starting to run his hand through his blond hair in agitation, but quickly stopped himself as if he were ashamed he had such a pedestrian habit. "What are you planning to do with it? I know you haven't told anyone yet. Everyone's treating you like the princess of Gryffindor, same as always. That disillusionment charm isn't going to last forever. Were you planning on hiding the baby in the castle?"

When she gave no response, he scoffed. "Maybe you think that oaf Hagrid could raise it in his hut." His hard expression softened just a bit, and his eyes bore into hers. "Have you considered what I suggested? About my mother?"

How could she tell him that she has barely thought of what she was going to do with the baby at all? That she felt no connection to the thing within her, yet the thought of someone else raising it...it sent a thrill of dread through her soul.

"Oh, so you've told your mother?" Hermione fired back. "Or better yet your father in Azkaban? Did you write to tell him about impregnating a Mudblood? That your precious heir will be a half-blood monstrosity? Or better yet, what you did that night?"

She knew she was being irrational, that his question was legitimate, and she could have easily told him 'no' and left it at that, but she there was a certain satisfaction in this.

Her heart raced, her blood pumped wildly through her veins as a heat rose throughout her body. She wanted to curse at him, to grab his shiny, blond head and smash it into her knee over and over.

She felt enraged, frenetic, alive.

Then she felt the tip of Malfoy's wand graze her collarbone. His face had lost what little color it had, his breath coming in heavy pants. "Don't ever mention my family again, Mudblood."

Hermione's chest grew tight as bile rose in her throat. Her fingers convulsively gripped the bottom of her jumper as fear fogged her brain, and her eyes darted around the room full of unused desks, searching for one to duck under. Before she could lift her suddenly leaden legs, however, Malfoy had pushed past her, unlocking the door with his wand, and rushed out.

It's alright, it's alright, it's alright, Hermione chanted to herself like a mantra, willing her body to unseize. The sight of the wand pointed at her had triggered that reaction.

Shaking her head, she released a shaky laugh, embarrassed that she had let him stun her so thoroughly. That will never happen again, she vowed, but the sound of a familiar voice shook her from her thoughts.

"Watch it, Ferret!" Ginny's voice echoed around the stone corridor, and Hermione barely had time to exit the classroom and duck behind a column before she rounded the corner.

"Hey, fancy meeting you here!" Ginny said smiling. "What are you doing at the owlery?"

Her jovial expression turned to one of confusion as she accessed Hermione's drawn face. "You're paler than a ghost. Was it Malfoy? Did he say something to you or try to hurt you? I can't believe they let that bigoted prat back in after all that he's done."

"No, I'm ok, he just….just startled me, and I ducked behind here." Hermione said and plastered a small smile on her face. "After everything that happened here last year, sometimes I'm so jittery. I jump at the slight creaking of a door sometimes."

Stepping closer, Ginny regarded her thoughtfully. "Do you want to talk to me Hermione? Tell me something? Because ever since this summer, you've been acting...strangely. Jumping at every sound, sleeping more. Some days you barely eat and others you act like you're starving. Yesterday at breakfast, I thought you were going to stab me with your fork for eating the last sausage."

Hermione was oddly touched that Ginny had noticed anything out of the ordinary at all. She hated lying to her, hated lying at all, but telling her the truth would lead to more questions, questions she wasn't ready to answer yet.

"It's strange being back here after all that happened barely four months ago," she said, telling her at least part of the truth. "Sometimes I will walk down the corridor and remember that was where we found Tonks or Lupin or-" she cut herself off before she said the name she knew was on Ginny's mind. Fred. "I miss Harry and Ron most of all. It feels like the castle is empty without them."

"I-I think about that, too," Ginny admitted. "When walking to classes or sitting in the Great Hall. It's difficult, but we need to put that all behind us and focus on what remains." She threaded her arm through Hermione's and tenderly patted her hand. "Look, when you're ready to talk or just need someone, let me know. I'm always here for you." Squeezing her friend's side, Hermione nodded.

"So this was supposed to be a surprise, but we're planning a birthday party for you at the Burrow next Saturday," Ginny said as they walked up the steps to the owlery.

"But I've made plans with my parents already, Ginny. I'd feel awful having to cancel on them and -"

"I've kinda already owl'ed them to ask if you could visit on Sunday instead," she confessed a bit guiltily. "C'mon, it'll be great! We'll get that somber look off your face. George says he has some new products he wants us to circulate around the school, test 'em out and-"

"Ginny, you're Head Girl! You couldn't possibly be thinking of-"

Ginny burst out laughing, "There's the old Hermione! I was joking, I promise. So you'll come?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and laughed as well, the previous tension all but forgotten. "Of course I'll be there. Mainly to make sure you lot don't blow your own heads off."

"Well George had mentioned making improvements to the Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-bangs, and it wouldn't hurt if we tested one or two during the Quidditch match against Slytherin-"

"Ginny, really."

A/N:

This was a difficult chapter for some reason, but thank you for sticking with me! I'm more on track now, so stay tuned. Updates will be coming about every two weeks.

Next Chapter: More drama at the Weasleys!