A/N: Just a little something I thought up while looking at fan art! And OF COURSE I don't own Harry Potter! What kind of stupid question is that! ANYWHO! This starts at the end of 6th year!
A/N: I rewrote this a little 'cause I didn't like where it was going. I kinda reversed Harry's mood and added something else into it. Well hope you enjoy!
Hermione ambled down the hall after Transfiguration. Ron and Harry had hurried to the Great Hall for lunch but Hermione was not all that hungry. She had stayed up all night studying for her Transfiguration final, even though she did not really need to. Ron had kept badgering her to stop and play chess with him, but Harry agreed before she could. Hermione bet they did not study more than three hours! Well, nothing to do about it now.
"What's wrong Hermione?" Ginny asked coming out of Defense Against the Dark Arts and seeing Hermione's state. "You look awful!"
"Well, thanks Ginny," she said giving Ginny a wry look. Ginny sniggered.
"Sorry, I didn't mean it that way," she said. "But why the long face? Didn't you do well on your Transfiguration N.E.W.T.?"
"Oh I bet I did fine," she started but then hesitated. There was no reason why she could not tell Ginny. "But the thing is, lately, I haven't cared about classes, or even school. I knew all the answers to the exam, but my mind kept straying off into space and I kept looking at . . ." She stopped herself there. She had gone farther than she wanted. She thought up a big recovery. "So, how did you do on your exam?"
"Oh good enough, I guess. I wouldn't have done good at all if it hadn't been for you." Hermione smiled to herself as she thought of two nights ago when she was helping Ginny study. Ron had been joking around the common room, and making Ginny and her laugh. They had come back from Hogswmeade that afternoon and Ron had eaten almost all of his Honeydukes sweets. He was literally bouncing off the walls because Harry had put a bouncing charm on him that made him almost like a frog. He was not green though – thank the light!
As they made their way to the great hall, Hermione looked around for Ron and Harry. They were sitting near the middle of the Gryffindor table by Neville and Dean. Ron was stuffing a roll down his throat as if he would never eat again. Hermione laughed.
"Your going to choke on that if you don't eat a little slower," she said to him as she stepped over the bench across from him. Ginny had gone farther down the table to sit with Seamus, her boyfriend for the current month. Hermione grabbed a roll but – unlike Ron – did not swallow it whole. Instead she spread some margarine on top of it and tore off bits to put in her mouth. She did, however, nearly chug down her pumpkin juice. When she put her empty goblet down and wiped her mouth off with her napkin, she saw Ron staring at her surprised.
"Don't drink so fast, Hermione. You might choke," he said in a mocking voice. Hermione gave him a wry look and filled her goblet up again. Why was she so thirsty? Right when she stepped into the Great Hall and looked for Ron and Harry, her mouth became very dry. It still was in fact. She sipped her juice subtly.
"So what did you think about the exam?" she asked Ron. He rolled his eyes.
"Oh come on Hermione, don't talk about N.E.W.T.s right now. Don't even talk about them tomorrow!" he said taking a swig of his pumpkin juice.
"Was it really that bad?" she asked with a pained look on her face. Harry sniggered, and Hermione jumped. She had forgotten he was there.
"Not all of us can recite the book backwards like you Hermione," Harry told her laughing.
The meal went on as usual. Ron and Harry joked about, while Neville would laugh and choke on something. Hermione listened intently to the jokes, but she sometimes found herself staring again. She quickly snapped her head away. Why was she doing that?
The rest of the day dragged on slowly. Transfiguration was the last exam of the year so Hermione, Ron, and Harry sat by the lake, watching the giant squid try to catch some birds flying low to the lake. Hermione had the feeling they were taunting the poor squid and the three of them decided to go back to the common room.
Throwing herself down into her favorite chair by the fire, Hermione grabbed her book from under it. She opened it to page 471 and started to read. Ron and Neville were playing chess and Seamus and Dean were up in the dormitory making a loud ruckus that Hermione could hear from where she sat. Harry had seemed to disappear. He was doing that lately; walking with Ron and her, but then going off somewhere without them noticing.
Going down to the Great Hall for dinner, Hermione spotted Harry already at the table. He sat with his head in his hands, staring down at his plate of food depressingly.
"Why so down in the dumps, Harry?" Ron asked as he sat down next to Hermione. Her stomach jumped into her chest as he talked. She had not realized he followed her down. Yet, instead of her stomach settling when he sat down, it stayed, and felt as if she had butterflies in it.
"Oh, no reason," he said lifting his head away and looking around as if he didn't want anyone to see. He grabbed a chicken leg and started to tear it up with his teeth. It almost disgusted Hermione.
"Oh come on!" Ron said throwing up his hands. "You are acting as if you are dead.
"Well . . ." Harry began but then thought better of it. "Oh it's nothing."
"Harry, you must tell us! How are we supposed to help you if we don't know what's wrong?" Ron shouted. He was starting to attract attention from near by on-lookers.
"Maybe I don't want any of your help!" he yelled back. Grabbing a roll, he strode to the Entrance Hall and disappeared around the corner. Ron had look of horror on his face. Hermione realized her mouth was open in a gaping manner and closed it. The entire Great Hall was silent, even the teacher's table.
The rest of the meal was uneventful. Why did she think everything was dull now? Why isn't she happy anymore? Hermione pondered these thoughts on the way back to Gryffindor tower. Ron moped about at her side, walking with his head down. He had seemed really hurt by what Harry had screamed at him.
Walking through the portrait hole, Hermione spotted a figure sitting alone in the corner close to the fire. Harry, she though. She bit her lip hesitantly, but then walked on, Ron following her inside. As she made her way to where Harry was sitting and sat down next to him.
"Harry, we are your friends. You know you can tell us anything and trust us. So why are you holding back?" she said quietly. Harry, who was staring into the fire, gave a sigh.
"I don't want to talk about it," he said very forcefully. He still did not look at them.
"Come on mate. I'm sorry about yelling at you back there, but I only wanted to help. We both did." Ron looked at him expectantly, hoping he would budge a bit.
"I know," Harry said, speaking less vigorously. His face calmed into just a plain stare rather than one full of hatred and misery.
Hermione looked into the fire also. A memory came into her head. It was only two years ago that Sirius Black's head was popping in and out of that fireplace. She felt a tear stream down her cheek.
She threw her arms around him. "Oh Harry, it must be horrible for you." She began to sob into his shoulder. She felt a hand rubbing her back.
"It's alright Hermione. No need to cry." It was Ron. She looked up to see that it was not at all Harry whom she had thrown herself on. Ron looked back at her and gave her a comforting smile. She looked over at Harry and he looked as if he were fighting away tears.
As hard as it was, she pulled herself away from Ron's grasp. Why was it so hard, though? She was only crying. She rubbed Harry on the back as Ron had done to her.
"Come on Harry, why don't you get some rest," she said to him helping him up. Ron took her place and they both headed up the boy's dormitory stairs. She watched them as they climbed. But just before heading out of sight, Ron looked back at her and smiled. She returned with another smile. Making a heavy sigh, she turned back and eyed the couch in front of the fire. It was still early by her standards so she settled down on it, watching the fire crackle and spit flames. There was nothing left for her to do.
Suddenly, a knock came on the portrait of the Fat Lady. Why would someone be knocking? They should know the password. Looking around at the others in the common room, she cautiously made her way. When she approached the portrait swung open to reveal two very familiar faces.
"Well, hello Hermione!" one said.
A/N: Was that understandable? Sorry to those who had read the first one and liked it (how could you, it was turning out to be terrible), but I seem to like this better. And it's harder to write so that's also good. I read this quote once that a wise man once said that stated something of the sort "A real writer is the person that it comes to more difficult than other." I guess that was it. I can't remember who said it either. Oh well! On the Chapter two . . .