2003-07-15 - 1:56 a.m.

So if you bother to read it, let me know if you think it needs tampering to make it better, or if there are sentences that look like I edited them poorly and left blaring grammatical errors or something like that.

Peace, yo.

Also let me know if you have an idea for a name, because I don't.

By Friday of the first week of classes, Hermione had still not received word from her parents. Professor McGonagall had spoken with her several times, saying that they were recovering steadily and not to worry, but Hermione found it quite difficult to calm her nerves.

Her parents were dentists. They had no place in this world, much less in this war. While Hermione knew that they were not the actual targets, but indirect targets, they had been targets nonetheless. She could only imagine what would have happened had Dumbledore not seen this coming and stationed a guard from the Order of the Phoenix in her neighborhood.

Arithmancy class was nearly over when Hermione came to, realizing she had not taken in a single word, but wasted the lesson reliving the past two weeks. School should have been a welcome relief for her, but she felt as though she were coming apart at the seams.

She scrambled desperately to copy what was left on the board, to absorb the last of the lesson, but it was hopeless- she had lost too much time to catch up now. The bell rang and she began angrily repacking her backpack. When would they be well enough to write?!

Hermione made her way to the Great Hall for lunch with Harry and Ron. She wondered what stupid thing Ron would say today that they would wind up fighting about. But when she sat down, he seemed to actually pick up on her mood, and instead started filling a plate for her. He looked at her as if to say, “It’ll be all right,” but he said nothing. Hermione managed a weak smile.

Harry still wasn’t saying much. Hermione knew that he blamed himself for the attack at her house. She wanted to scream at him that that wasn’t what she needed now. She didn’t need someone to blame- she knew the Death Eaters were to blame. She just wanted a friend.

She realized she was choking on her meat pie. She swallowed hard, thinking, “I will not cry, I will not cry, I must be strong now.” Strength was so important lately. Ron handed her some pumpkin juice, which she gulped trying to calm herself. She must not think that everything was falling apart. Things could always be worse.

Someone slid into the seat beside her. She looked up to see a Ravenclaw sixth year she knew from a few classes.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “I thought you seemed, um, a bit distracted in class today, so I duplicated my notes for you.” He handed over a piece of parchment. Hermione looked perplexed.

“Look,” he said, “I heard about-” Hermione looked down, so he hastened, “well, you know, and if you ever need notes or anything, it’s no problem at all, okay?”

Hermione looked at him, not sure whether to smile or cry. “Thanks,” she mumbled as he smiled and walked off.

“Well, that was nice,” said Harry.

“Yeah,” Ron agreed, scowling at the Ravenclaw table.

But Hermione wasn’t paying attention to Ron, the notes, or the Ravenclaws. Harry was making eye contact with her for the first time in days. She smiled slightly at him. She didn’t blame him, after all.

.

That afternoon was Care of Magical Creatures. It was a nice day out- warm, with hardly a cloud in the cool blue sky. The weather was like this the day Hermione got her first letter from Hogwarts. She had gone on a picnic with her parents that day. Her parents had planned a quality summer with her before they sent her off to secondary school. She didn’t want to leave even though it was the best school in the country. She felt an apprehension about it- like she just wouldn’t belong there, just like she hadn’t ever belonged anywhere. But at least she had a great summer to look forward to.

When they arrived back home late in the afternoon, an owl was waiting for them on the front porch, with a letter for her. Hermione read the letter with her parents peering over her shoulders. She felt rooted to the spot until she had soaked up every last word. The she turned around and faced her parents, smiling, but determined. “This is where I belong,” she had said. They beamed at her. Her mother shrugged, “Well, it certainly does explain a lot.”

Hermione looked across the Hogwarts grounds toward the Forbidden Forest, where Hagrid was waiting by his cabin. She stopped walking and surveyed Ron and Harry who paused to see why she wasn’t moving.

“They’re going to be all right,” she told them, but she was also speaking to herself. “They have to be. And there is nothing we can do at the moment to help them, so we should concentrate on school. But they’re going to be all right.”

Harry nodded at her purposefully. Ron smiled like he was relieved. Hermione felt determined. She couldn’t quite explain the feeling. It was as if her parents would recover only if she stopped letting her worries rule her life. Maybe it didn’t make any sense, but at the moment, she was so sure of herself to bother questioning it. She nodded and started her way toward Hagrid again.

Neville came running up behind them. When Ron turned, they collided. Ron stumbled backwards and tripped on the hem of his robe. He landed with an uncomfortable thud. Hermione turned and looked at him, and before she could help it, burst out laughing.

Ron looked up from the ground at her, but far from looking offended, he started laughing too. Harry and Neville looked at each other and smiled, but didn’t seem to find it near as funny.

Ron began, “Well at least you hav-”

But a sneering drawl came from behind him, overriding his words. “Smooth, Weasel.” Crabbe and Goyle chuckled stupidly from Malfoy’s sides.

“Shut up, Malfoy,” snapped Harry.

“Watch that temper, Potter. You don’t want to upset the mudblood, do you?” He gestured to Hermione and shot, “How are your parents, anyway? Still at St. Mungo’s-”

But Malfoy’s mouth shut before he could finish. He looked around, panicking, with his fingers scrambling over his lips, as though he were trying to pry them open. He looked from Crabbe to Goyle, who stared back like confused gorillas. Malfoy shot them one more nasty look before taking off to the infirmary, Crabbe and Goyle on his tail.

Hermione turned around. “Neville! Was that you?” The others looked around, and sure enough, Neville was the only one with his wand out.

Neville smiled. “Yeah. I’ve been waiting to try that one on him for ages.”

Harry clapped him on the back. “Boy are they going to be sorry they ever picked on you. Good one, mate.”

“Yeah, good one,” grumbled Ron as he got to his feet. He was looking at Hermione. “That Malfoy, saying those things. If I hadn’t been on the ground…” He balled his fists and stalked off toward Care of Magical Creatures.

The others followed, and then managed to look around innocently when Hagrid asked the class where Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were.

“Righ’. T’day we’re goin’ over wood nymphs, so come with me ter the edge o’ the forest…”

The lesson was pretty interesting, and particularly safe for one of Hagrid’s lessons, so Hermione threw herself into learning with a new vigor. Everyone kept saying her parents would be fine. They would want her to keep her grades up, despite what had happened. While she didn’t feel completely calm again, she was feeling better, being on the familiar footing of academia.

At the end of the lesson, she, Ron, and Harry hung back with Hagrid to see what the latest word was from the Order.

But he just shook his head. “Listen. ‘S not summat fer yeh ter worry over. Yer back in school and Dumbledore wants yeh ter learn.”

“But how are we supposed to concentrate with everything that’s going on outside?” demanded Harry.

“Well ‘s the point, in’ it?” said Hagrid. “Ter much on yer minds. Speakin’ o’ which, Hermione, how’re yeh doin’?” He looked down at her kindly.

“All right, Hagrid,” she said softly.

“Well, I got summat ter cheer yeh up a bit. Grawp’s bin askin’ about yeh. Think e’s got a bit of a crush on yeh.” He chuckled fondly. “Ye can come ter see ‘em tonight. E’s doin’ righ’ fine.” Hagrid beamed down at them as though this were a really tempting offer.

“I don’t know, Hagrid. We’ve got a lot of homework already,” Ron began nervously.

“I’ll come.”

Harry and Ron gaped at Hermione. She shrugged. “I’m not so far behind as you guys. Can I use your invisibility cloak, Harry?”

.

Ron slid into the seat next to Hermione at dinner and looked at her expectantly.

“What?”

“Are you really going to go see Grawp tonight?”

“Sure, why not?”

“Because he might smash you to pieces-- Hermy.”

“Don’t be silly. Hagrid says he’s doing way better over the past few months.” Ron’s jaw dropped as he looked at her. Hermione looked to Harry, but he looked similarly doubtful.

“Look,” she sighed. “Ever since… you know… well, I just feel so strange. I have all these worries and I can’t concentrate on anything properly. I feel like I need a jumpstart- something to wake me up. I mean, I can’t help them, but I’ve got to do something!”

Harry nodded at this. He understood the helplessness she was feeling. “Kind of reckless,” he mumbled. Hermione shot him a look, but then realized he wasn’t lecturing, he was sympathizing.

“Right.”

But Ron was determined. “What about the centaurs? Don’t you remember how they were going to kill you and Harry a few months ago?”

“Oh, Dumbledore smoothed that over ages ago, Ron. We couldn’t very well have a games keeper who couldn’t enter the forest, could we? But Ron still looked doubtful.

He leaned forward to her. “Do you want me and Harry to come too? I mean I know Hagrid’ll look after you, but you know. It couldn’t hurt to have a few more hands around.”

“You just don’t want to do your homework without me there.”

“No, that’s not it.”

“Hermione,” said Harry reasonably, “Grawp is almost certainly still dangerous, despite what Hagrid says, so we’re coming with you. We have all weekend to do our homework.” She looked as though she was going to argue, but Harry cut her off. “I swear we’ll have time.”

So the three of them set off underneath Harry’s invisibility cloak that night toward Hagrid’s cabin.

“How deep into the forest is he?” asked Ron, who had never been out to meet Grawp. “I mean, is he out where Aragog lives?”

Harry glanced over with a grin. Ron was terrified of the giant spider. “No, it’s a different direction.”

When they reached Hagrid’s front door, they removed the cloak and Hermione knocked three times. Fang, Hagrid’s boarhound, barked from within.

Hagrid swung the door open. “Yeh ready?” he asked with a grin.

They set off with Hagrid and Fang into the forest. Although it was a clear, starry night with a nearly full moon, it was pitch black in the forest.

“Lumos.” Three wands lit the way ahead of them.

After a few minutes of walking, the group left the trail. They moved slower off the trail since Hermione, Ron, and Harry kept getting caught in the brambles. But finally they came to a clearing. A large bonfire was burning in the center, and staring into it was Hagrid’s half brother, the giant known as Grawp.

“Blimey!” exclaimed Ron. Hermione stepped on his foot. “Shh. Don’t offend him.” Ron looked at her like she was nuts.

Hagrid moved forward into the clearing. “Hi, Grawpy,” he said.

Grawp turned to reveal himself in the firelight. Hermione gasped. Grawp did indeed look much more civilized. He was cleaner, for one thing, and was wearing what looked like homemade, giant-sized clothes. He was sitting with his hands folded neatly in his lap. Despite his huge stature (Grawp stood about sixteen feet), and disproportionately large head, hands, and feet, Grawp certainly looked much more like a human than he had during their last meeting.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other in disbelief as Grawp smiled and waved, “Hullo, Hagger. Hower yee?”

“I’m fine, Grawpy. I brought some friends. D’yeh remember Harry n’ Hermione? And tha’s Ron.” Hagrid gestured to the trio still standing on the edge of the clearing.

“Hermy!” Grawp yelled. He stood up and stepped toward them with frightful speed and agility. The ground trembled with each step he took. Within two seconds he was standing before them, his hand outstretched as though he were going to grab Hermione.

Ron jumped in front of her, and Grawp straightened back up, as though remembering himself. He looked at Hagrid, and with a startling imitation of his half-brother’s voice, he said, “Grawpy, don’ grab.”

Hagrid chuckled as he walked back to the group. “Tha’s righ’, Grawp.” Then he added in an undertone, “See? Doin’ great.”

Hermione and Harry smiled back at him. In comparison to before, Hagrid had quite civilized his half-brother. Ron, however, was still eyeing Grawp uncertainly, ready to whip out his wand should Grawp move to grab Hermione again.

The visit was pretty short, but it went very well. Grawp learned Harry and Ron’s names too, and was able to speak in simple sentences in English, although he tended to exaggerate Hagrid’s accent. He seemed to be very happy in the forest now, and he was no longer violent to Hagrid or anyone else, from Hagrid’s report.

Hermione was in better spirits on the way back to the castle. She had been right. She did need to be shaken up a bit. Plus, she though confidently, if Hagrid could do that well with Grawp, surely the healers at St. Mungo’s could help her parents.

.

Hermione had nightmares again that night about the attack on her parents, and woke up shaking. It was Saturday, so many of the students were sleeping in. However, Harry and Ron were halfway through their breakfast by the time Hermione joined them. As she sat down, a flutter of wings overhead made her look up desperately, searching for an owl that might be searching for her.

Her heart jumped into her throat as a sleek screech owl soared down toward her. It landed deftly next to the plate of eggs and dropped the letter on Hermione’s still empty plate.

Hermione opened it so hastily that she ripped the parchment, her eyes filling with tears at the thought of finally receiving word from her parents that they were okay. Harry and Ron leaned in close to read with her, their faces revealing their nervous expectation.

But when Hermione recognized the handwriting, she slammed her fist on the table and cried furiously, “Oh, it’s from Victor!” She pushed Ron over as she leapt up and ran out of the Great Hall in a fit of rage.

She didn’t stop running until she reached the lake. She glanced around quickly to make sure that no one else was out there, and then looked over the lake and screamed as long and hard as she could. A tentacle rose out of the lake in alarm, but otherwise the scream was absorbed unnoticed into the world around her.

Hermione sank, exhausted, underneath a beech tree nearby and pulled out Victor’s letter. “I’m sorry,” she whispered to it, as though it was perhaps offended that she had reacted so unpleasantly upon seeing the letter was not from her parents. She felt ashamed. She was not being strong for them. She took a deep breath to steady herself and began to read.

After a few minutes, Ron and Harry made their way out to her. Ron was carrying a bundle of food.

“Thought you might be hungry,” he said. “But it’s okay if you want to be alone.”

Hermione looked at him apologetically. Her eyes were shining. It was taking her everything to keep from crying. “Oh, Ron, I’m sorry I knocked you down. I had no right-”

“Forget it,” he said. “A girl can’t always be polite enough to say ‘Get out of my way, you fool!’”

Hermione laughed weakly and folded up the letter. Harry and Ron sat down. Ron handed over the food he had brought her.

They sat in silence for a few minutes while Hermione ate her breakfast. Harry was gazing at cloud formations in the sky. Ron was looking out over the lake, pulling up blades of grass. Hermione was thinking about last year when Harry kept yelling at her and Ron when he was angry with people and circumstances that had nothing to do with them. She thought she had been patient with him at the time, but now she thought she might have done a bit better. All the same, it had proven to be good advice to point out to him that they were not the enemy, and would he please stop yelling at them. Hermione looked at the breakfast they had brought out to her and thought that perhaps she needed to take her own advice.

She looked up, deciding to say so, but realized that someone was standing behind them, looking as though she had wandered over by accident. Harry and Ron also looked up.

“All right, Luna?” asked Harry, with a clear attempt at a friendly smile. He had been oddly protective over her during the summer whenever her name was raised. Hermione looked at the two of them carefully. There didn’t seem to be the romantic spark she’d seen with Cho. No, this was different.

Luna, for her part, was gazing intently at Hermione. “I know what you’ve been going through,” she said, her huge eyes seeming to peer directly through Hermione’s eyes and into her brain. Hermione’s face set. She was going to lose her temper at this girl. However before she had a chance, Luna continued. “I have something to tell you that might help.”

Without further ado, she knelt down and leaned forward so that her lips were just brushing Hermione’s ear, and she began whispering so softly that Hermione had to strain to hear her. Ron leaned forward to eavesdrop, but without much luck.

“My mother died when I was nine,” she whispered. “One of her experiments went wrong, and it was pretty clear she wasn’t going to make it. She hung on for a few months… but… Anyway, it’s hard being so worried. Everyone kept telling me to be strong for her.” Hermione nodded. “But Mum told me they were wrong. She said I should be strong for me because I had a rough time ahead. There was nothing I could do for her but love her.”

Luna pulled away and smiled dreamily.

Hermione smiled back. “Thanks, Luna.”

Luna stood up and walked out without a word to the others.

“Bye, then,” said Ron, who then turned to Hermione. “What was that all about?”

But Hermione seemed to be in a deep state of reverie. It was the most sense Luna had ever made. She shook her head slightly. “It’s personal. I really shouldn’t.”

Ron made a face at Luna, who was walking back toward the castle. “What is it with her, anyway? Come on, Hermione. We won’t tell anyone.”

“No.”

It was then that Hermione noticed it had been several minutes since she’d felt fear. The short distraction really had made her feel a bit stronger.

Presently, Harry looked at her. “What did Victor have to say?”

“Oh, um,” she wiped her hands in the grass and noticed that Ron was studying her. “He heard about my parents and said that he knows they’ll be okay. And he wants me to bring them for a visit during Christmas break.”

“I think they’ll like that,” said Harry.

“Yeah, they love to travel.”

Ron looked back over the lake with the trace of a scowl playing in his eyes.

.

They spent all afternoon and evening working on homework. It was only a week into the school year, but their teachers had started them off strong. There was no time to relax, now that their N.E.W.T.s were next year. Ron wanted to take the evening off, but Hermione was quick to remind him that he and Harry had Quidditch practice Sunday, and would not have time to finish everything then. Ron sighed deeply, but agreed she was right.

But as soon as darkness fell, the common room began to fill up with the other Gryffindors, and Hermione could no longer concentrate. Thoughts of her parents, the Death Eaters, and Voldemort’s twisted plot to break Harry filled her head.

She needed to get out. She needed an escape. Books had always been there for her before. But they weren’t working now. Not with all this noise in the room. Not with all this noise in her head.

“Harry,” she said softly. “Can I borrow your cloak?”

“Why?” asked Ron suspiciously.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “To go to the library. It’s too loud in here.”

“Yeah, sure,” said Harry.

“Do you want me to come too?”

“No, Ron, go ahead and take the night off if you have to. I’d rather be alone.”

“Oh,” said Ron in a small voice.

Hermione took her things up to her dorm room, and returned a minute later with just her backpack, which was nearly full. Harry returned soon after, sat down, and slipped her the invisibility cloak under the table. Hermione shoved it into her backpack and made her way out of the common room. It was a quarter till nine, so she had fifteen minutes before she absolutely had to put the cloak on. But she slipped it on as soon as she was sure the coast was clear, just in case.

She made her way down to the entrance hall, and then out into the night. On the one hand, she couldn’t believe she was doing this, but on the other hand, she felt better already.

She was pretty sure that Hagrid was in Hogsmeade tonight, like he was most Saturday nights, but she checked around his cabin anyway, for any sign that he might be in the forest. She could see Fang sleeping by the fire through the window, and took that as evidence that Hagrid was out for the night. She turned toward the Forbidden Forest, and began making her way down the path.

Hermione moved slowly and quietly toward the clearing, not wanting to draw any attention to herself, alone in the forest after dark. She kept the cloak on her as often as she could, but she didn’t want to rip it in the brambles. So revealed herself to the forest during her slowest moving times.

Finally she came to the clearing. She removed the cloak and placed it neatly in her backpack, which she laid against a nearby tree.

“Grawp?” she said.

Grawp had another fire going, and was again staring avidly into it. He only noticed her when she said his name. He turned to look at her, and another smile broke out.

“Hermy!” He looked around her. “Where Hagger?”

“He’s not here, Grawp. It’s just me.”

Grawp looked at her for a second, and then again stretched out his hand toward her. Except this time he grabbed her.

.

Hermione made it to the prefect girls’ bathroom without running into anyone. “Niffler,” she said to the sleeping portrait of a majestic looking witch. She was underneath the invisibility cloak, but the witch never opened her eyes to check.

Hermione climbed into the bathroom and sank down on the tile, finally pulling off the cloak. She caught a glimpse of herself in the full-length mirror. She looked so unfamiliar. Her robe was torn, her face and hands all scratched up. Her hair was bushier than ever. But her eyes… her eyes were different. They were so revealing. They showed it all. Everyone would know.

She reached across to some of the taps for the large, swimming pool of a bathtub, and turned a few to full blast. She specially chose the ones with potions that would heal her scrapes, so that Ron and Harry wouldn’t ask her why her trip to the library had resulted in injury.

When the tub was full, she slipped off her clothes and slid into the luxuriously warm water. It was so good. It had been so good. But it shouldn’t have been. It shouldn’t have happened at all. Granted not much actually had happened, when you consider the possibilities, but it was enough. It was something.

But was that what she had wanted? Was that why she had gone out there? It seemed at the time as though it had just happened without any warning, but now Hermione wondered. She had wanted something to wake her up, and she was certainly awake now.

With a sudden pang of horror, Hermione wondered if Grawp was going to tell Hagrid about it. “But no,” she thought. “Surely Hagrid hasn’t taught him those words. He couldn’t tell him.”

Hermione took a deep breath and sank underneath the surface of the bath. She ran her fingers through her hair, washing the dirt and leaves out. Then she ran her fingers down her body. A new part of her was open. She could not close it now.

When she had finally managed to dry her hair, she walked over to her backpack, still lying by the door. She dropped her towel on the floor and took out the extra set of clothes she had had the foresight to pack before leaving Gryffindor tower. She dressed and repacked her bag. And, making sure the invisibility coat had her completely covered, she made her way back.

It was very late by the time she got back to the common room. Ron was the only one still up. When Hermione climbed in through the portrait hole, he hastily shoved some books he had been reading into his backpack.

“What took you so long?”

“I decided to take a bath. Why are you still up?”

“Oh, just reading, you know.”

He wasn’t looking directly at her. She wondered fleetingly if he knew, if he could tell. She wanted to ask him if she really did look different, but of course she couldn’t.

“Here’s Harry’s cloak, can you give it to him?”

“Right,” he said. He looked at her for a few seconds as though he had a burning desire to say something, but then he looked away.

He was making her nervous. She couldn’t stay in there with him. “Well, I’m going to bed, then.”

“Yeah, yeah me too.”

.

Hermione was quiet during Sunday breakfast. She wouldn’t look Ron or Harry in the eye, in case they noticed something different about her. Ron and Harry were talking about the coming Quidditch season, but Ron kept looking over at her, like he was searching for something.

But whatever he was looking for, he apparently didn’t find it in the Great Hall. He disappeared soon after breakfast, saying he had “stuff to do” and he would see them at lunch.

Harry and Hermione wandered the grounds for most of the morning, finally dropping in on Hagrid.

“So Grawp seems to be doing great,” said Harry with a smile. Hermione could feel a blush rising.

“Yeah. Jus’ went out ter see ‘em this mornin’. ‘E’s righ’ happy, let me tell yeh.” Hermione choked on her tea.

“How are your other lessons going?” she asked, desperate for a change of subject.

“Much better now tha’ tha’ Umbridge woman’s gone. Can do much more interestin’ creatures.”

They talked about their lessons for the rest of the visit. Then Harry and Hermione left at midday to get some lunch. Ron was sitting alone with several plates of food, and several books arranged in front of him. When he saw Harry and Hermione, he hastily put the books away and asked them how their morning was.

“Fine,” said Harry. “What are you reading?”

“Oh, just, you know…” Ron’s ears were reddening and he was clearly casting about for a change of subject. “Is it time for Quidditch practice yet?”

Hermione sighed. They were always talking about Quidditch. Sometimes it was as if they really didn’t care how she was feeling. She looked at them and knew this wasn’t true, but she was still annoyed. She had been out half the night and Ron didn’t seem bothered about where she had been. Harry didn’t even stay up. What if her parents didn’t get better? Would they still be talking about Quidditch?

She ate in silence while the boys talked half-heartedly about the Quidditch season. Hermione didn’t notice, but her mood was distracting them from a normally animated topic.

Near the end of lunch, Ginny plopped down in the seat next to her. “Hey Hermione, how are you doing?” Her voice was light-hearted, but her eyes were concerned.

“All right, I guess.”

“Haven’t heard yet?” she asked quietly. “I wanted to talk to you about it last night, but they said you’d gone to the library.”

Hermione was touched by the concern, but realized suddenly that she really didn’t want to talk about it. She looked down at her food and mumbled incoherently about studying.

“Look,” said Ginny, dropping her voice so only Hermione could hear. “It’s cool if you don’t want to talk about it, but I kind of know how you feel if you do. I mean, last year with Dad and all.” Hermione looked up at her, her anger rising. Ginny hastily continued. “I mean, I know it’s not exactly the same because we were only waiting one night and it’s been two weeks for you… but…” she glanced over to Ron and Harry and dropped her voice to a whisper. “I can’t imagine that lot would be too good to talk to.”

Hermione laughed shakily. “No, they’re not.”

Ginny grinned at her. “I’m about to go to Quidditch practice, but I’ll be in the common room all evening, so maybe then?”

“Yeah, maybe,” said Hermione, but she rather thought she had other plans.

She spent the next few hours reading ahead in all of her subjects, but her books could only distract her for so long. By the time Ginny, Ron, and Harry made their way into the Gryffindor common room, she was knitting hats and socks for the house elves. They were talking animatedly about their prospects this year, as the team had much better players than it had had by the end of last season.

She continued knitting while they went upstairs to wash up. When they joined her again, it was time for dinner. Hermione waved her wand and all of her knitting supplies leapt into her quilted knitting bag.

She was distant again while they ate. Harry, Ron, and Ginny kept glancing over at her, but it was clear she didn’t want to talk. Harry became moody as well, so Ron and Ginny took the clue and hardly talked at all.

Ginny left the table first, telling Hermione she’d be up in her room if she wanted to talk.

As she walked away, Ron turned quickly to Hermione and said in a slightly accusatory tone, “You can talk to us, too, you know.”

Hermione rounded on him. “And what do you care about what’s going on with me?!”

“I happen to care a great deal,” he said, his ears reddening.

“Well you could try showing it!” she snapped.

Ron looked like she had just slapped him in the face. He stood up, shaking slightly, and left the Great Hall. Hermione looked down, angry and satisfied and ashamed.

Harry put his hand on her shoulder. She looked up to see if he was mad, but he looked understanding.

“Harry, I’ll-”

“He’ll be all right. He’s just worried about you.”

Hermione nodded. Of course he was. They left the Great Hall and started up toward Gryffindor tower. Ron was at their normal table in the common room, looking as though nothing had happened. Harry sat down with him to finish up his homework, and Hermione began to write Victor a letter.

She found it much easier to talk about her parents on paper. She explained about how the Death Eaters had attacked her and Ron’s families, but of course, Ron’s family was much better equipped to defend themselves. Harry had been in hiding for the summer (she didn’t mention he was staying in Sirius’ house with Professor Lupin), so he was all right, but that Voldemort had started psychological warfare by hurting his friends instead. She had been inside studying for the coming school year. Her parents had been outside gardening on their Saturday off. (Two weeks ago yesterday, she thought). They’re muggles, so they couldn’t defend themselves, but Dumbledore had assigned a guard to their house at the beginning of the summer. Tonks had managed to fight off three Death Eaters before Hermione even got outside so see what was happening. Her parents were collapsed in the garden…

Her eyes were filled with tears. “Don’t cry, be strong, don’t cry…” she thought to herself.

She put the letter away to finish later. She felt like she was suffocating suddenly. She had to get out. And she knew exactly where she was going to go.

“Harry, can I borrow your cloak?” She said it so suddenly and so urgently that Harry and Ron both jumped.

“Yeah, sure,” said Harry.

Ron eyed her suspiciously. But she didn’t have time for that. She practically ran up to her dorm room and packed her backpack with the clothes she had torn in the brambles the previous night. She would change into them before she went into the forest, and then back into the clothes she was wearing after her bath. No one would know.

Ron had left the common room when she came back down. She sat next to Harry, who slipped her the cloak under the table.

“Thanks,” she said, and she left.

She slipped into the prefect girls’ bathroom and changed into her tattered robes. Then, carefully covering herself with the invisibility cloak, she made her way out of the castle. Excitement was mounting within her as she looked up at the clear night sky. It was almost bright with the full moon out. Her heart was beating hard in her chest. She had almost reached the Forbidden Forest when she stopped dead in her tracks and looked up again.

It was the first night of the full moon. She looked at the darkness of the forest. Werewolves would be out tonight. She looked back up at the moon, willing it to go away. It stared resolutely back down at her.

Hermione let out a steady stream of curses. She just couldn’t risk it, even with the invisibility cloak. She would have to take it off when she was caught in the brambles- fair game for anything- and they would be able to smell her anyway.

She walked around the lake for a while, and then snuck back into the castle. She didn’t want to go back to Gryffindor tower yet. She went instead to the prefect girls’ bathroom, and ran a bath.

As she slipped into the warm water, she thought about Grawp’s size, about his strength. It was all about strength, she realized. Everything in her life right now revolved around strength. She ran her hands over her small frame, and thought about his hands…

.

Harry was alone in the common room when she finally decided to return. She sat next to him by the fire, and handed him his invisibility cloak. She looked at him, but he didn’t look up at her. She saw suddenly there were tears in his eyes, and realized he was staring into the fire Sirius had risked so much to talk to him through.

A weight sunk into her. She felt like the entire weight of the world was on her chest. They sat in a morbid silence for a long time, staring into the fire.

Finally, Harry said, “I’m sorry about your parents.”

“They’ll be okay,” she said automatically, but again she wondered if they really would be.

“No. I mean, I’m sorry.” He looked up at her, oceans of guilt playing in his eyes. Sadness swelled within her as she looked at him, but it quickly turned to anger.

“Damn it, Harry, it’s not your fault!” she yelled at him.

He looked taken aback, but said guiltily, “Yes it is! They would never have attacked your or Ron’s houses if it wasn’t for me!”

“But you didn’t do it! They did. They cursed my parents! They attacked the Weasleys! They killed Sirius, Harry, not you!!”

He stood up, knocking his chair over. “YOU LEAVE SIRIUS OUT OF THIS!”

“NO!” she screamed. “You didn’t kill him! You didn’t make them come after us! Damn it, Harry! We don’t blame you! Nobody does!”

Harry stood looking at her, his hands limp at his side. It was only then that Hermione realized she had picked up a vase and thrown it across the room while she was yelling at him.

“I- I’m sorry-” she began.

“No. I’m sorry. I mean,” he said hastily, “I didn’t… you’re right.”

They stared at each other for a minute, adrenaline rushes subsiding. Then they walked forward and hugged each other tightly, telling each other it would all be okay.

Hermione felt real again when she woke up the next morning. She felt like she was no longer hiding from her emotions, and although she was hurting terribly with worry over her parents, the hurt was comforting. No more distractions, she decided. She needed this hurt until she knew her parents were okay.

She walked down to breakfast with Harry and Ron, but they didn’t say much to each other until mail came. Hermione’s heart soared briefly as an owl came flying their way, but it was a note from Hagrid to Harry.

“Oh, no!” said Harry desperately as he read.

“What?” asked Ron.

Harry looked at them and handed over the note. Ron and Hermione huddled together to read the parchment that was damp with tears.

Grawp’s dead.

Large pack of werewolves got him.

Don’t come see me. Just thought you’d

want to know.

-Hagrid

They looked up at each other. Hermione was in shock. “This can’t be.”

“Poor Hagrid,” said Ron.

The rest of the day was awful. Hermione couldn’t concentrate in any of her classes. She seemed to float through the day in a daze of hurt. She was hardly aware of the world going on around her. She didn’t even notice her strength enhancement potion was the wrong color until Snape started yelling at her, and she didn’t notice he was yelling at her for almost a minute after he started. She also failed to transfigure her desk into a dog in Transfiguration, although Professor McGonagall did not yell, she merely assigned extra homework.

Hermione ate in silence once more at dinnertime, but she didn’t stay long. She wasn’t very hungry. She went up to the common room and began working on her homework. Harry and Ron soon joined her.

When she finished, she pulled out her letter to Victor, and continued writing. This time, she poured out all of her feelings, although she glossed over some of the reasons behind them.

She looked up as she signed her name and realized the common room was almost empty.

“Harry,” she said, but he reached under the table to his bag and handed her his invisibility cloak. He smiled at her. Ron didn’t look up.

Hermione didn’t venture outside the castle this time, but rather wandered around to all of the halls she had never seen, and was surprised that even in her sixth year, that still comprised at least a fourth of the castle. She didn’t run into anyone, not even Mrs. Norris. She heard Peeves clanging around in an empty classroom, but was careful to avoid his detection. After a few hours, it occurred to her she might have visited the house elves, but thought she was rather too tired to convince them of their enslavement tonight. She’d go back tomorrow.

It was quite late when she returned to the common room. Ron was sitting in a squashy chair in front of the fire, fast asleep. An open book lay on his lap, another two on the floor. Hermione tiptoed over to see what he was reading, and jumped back in shock.

The sudden movement roused Ron, who looked up at her, and then hastily tried to gather the books and shove them out of sight.

“Ron!” Hermione hissed, even though they were alone. “What are you doing with all of those books on curses?!” Ron looked at her sheepishly. “Don’t you know you’re breaking about a hundred school rules having those here?”

“Nah, Hermione-”

“Yes, Ron! And anyway why would you-”

“They’re from the Restricted Section in the Library. I’ve got a note from Professor McGonagall.”

He held up a slip of parchment. Hermione snatched it out of his hand and read it. She felt as if life had completely stopped making sense. 'Ron Weasley requires the following books for extracurricular studying…' But when did Ron ever do extracurricular studying? She looked at him, waiting for an explanation.

Ron stood up in front of her. As he tried to formulate what he was going to say, his ears began to redden. By the time he started speaking, his face was flushed as well.

“I just wanted to do something for you. I mean, with everything that’s happened, you’ve been in such a foul mood, and it’s like everyone’s been able to help you out except me, so I was trying to find the curses they’d used on your parents to figure out the counter-curses… but I haven’t been able to find anything in a week.” He looked at his feet, disappointedly.

Hermione’s brain was working fast. Ron never did extra reading. He had tried to attack the problem the way she always did. “What do you mean everyone’s helped me out except you? I mean, you brought me breakfast that day, and you haven’t gotten mad any of the times I’ve yelled at you-”

“I mean, like you talk to Ginny about how you’re doing, and Victor, and you talked to Harry last night- he told me. And then like, Luna Lovegood made you feel better than you had since it happened, and even Neville defended you against Malfoy and his cronies. And, and that Ravenclaw guy copied his notes for you- and is he your boyfriend?” He said the last part so fast that Hermione started.

“No, of course not.”

“Then who have you been going to see the last few nights, only I know you haven’t been going to the library.”

“How do you know that?” she asked nervously.

“You just look different after you’ve spent a few hours reading, like you’re re-reading everything in your head, and you didn’t look like that tonight or the other night, so do you have a boyfriend?” Ron winced like he was surprised to hear the last words coming from his mouth. His face was starting to purple.

Hermione looked at him and mouthed a few soundless words. Ron looked her in the eye and she shook her head. He smiled broadly, relief visible on his face. Hermione couldn’t help but smile with him.

Ron took a step toward her and opened his mouth to say something, but a light tapping noise interrupted him. They both turned to see a brown owl clicking her beak against the common room window.

Hermione stood there, rooted to the spot. She was staring at the window with something like horror swelling within her. She thought she just might be feeling every emotion she had ever felt in her life all at once. Ron looked at her, and then went to the window and let the owl in.

It flew in, along with a chill draft, and circled Hermione, dropping the letter at her feet. Then it flew back out into the night. Ron closed the window and came to stand next to her. Hermione timidly picked up the letter and slowly opened it.

She didn’t read a word it said. She took one look at the handwriting and shrieked brokenly, “They’re okay!” She turned to Ron and buried her face in his chest. Ron stood perplexed for a second, and then wrapped his arms tightly around her. Hermione was crying hysterically. The dam was broken, and she let the flood out.

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