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If someone had told sixteen-year-old Hermione Granger this time last year that she would feel stuck in Paris while her boyfriend, once the person who had irritated her (perhaps more than anyone else on the face of the planet), was stuck in England,d she might have called them crazy. With a hu,ff she turned in her bed- they would be leaving soon, just a couple more days, then she would see him again- why did she feel so damn impatient?
Oh, right, the feeling. It had been just like that night at theTriwizard Tournamentt- something hard to explain. It hadn’t been a fact, something she could point to like in her text bbookand declare it a fact. It had been an overwhelming and terrifying feeling. Something she hadn’t really been able to think about at the time, except to desperately try and get someone to listen.
It hadn’t been the first time either.
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Hermione Granger’s third year was not going as she had expected; she was tired- beyond tired, really. Of course,e the Ravenclaw was also learning- learning everything she could learn, and that was worth every tired moment, even if she couldn’t explain to Padma how she did some of the things she did or why she was so tired all the time.
“Earth to Hermione Granger!” Came the voice of her best friend.
“Huh? Sorry, I was just… thinking about ancient runes.” Hermione muttered as they headed for the stairs leading to Ravenclaw Tower. “The essay Professor Babbling assigned sounds fascinating, doesn’t it?”
Padma made a face, “That’s one word for it.”
Hermione opened her mouth to retort before stopping, her grip on her back tightening. Something felt… off, something she couldn’t even begin to explain. “I think I forgot something,” she murmured, not bothering to give Padma time to reply as she dashed back towards the Grand staircase. It felt like her feet were carrying her of their own accord, “What am I doing? I’m going to be in so much trouble if I’m caught.”
Her destination, it turned out, was an abandoned classroom on the second floor; she knew it well. Hermione used it as a refuge when she wanted to hide from the rest of her house and get some studying done her own way at her own pace. “What am I doing?” she asked herself again before pushing open the door. Closing it gently behind her, she turned and found her entire body frozen as Harry Potter stood in front of her with a wand, a look of disbelief on his face as her body began to sway.
Her back hit the floor just as he finally said, “Granger?” With an incredulous tone to his voice.
Hermione could only glare once he came back into her view.
“You always enter classrooms without knocking?” Harry asked dryly as he helped Hermione to her feet. The Ravenclaw glared at him as she dusted off her robes.
“Do you normally cast first, ask questions later? That’s not very Slytherin of you.”
“What do you know about being a Slytherin anyway?” Harry shot back, “What are you doing here anyway?”
“It’s a free classroom.” Hermione retorted, because she did not want to explain that she’d had a phantom feeling that had drawn her to this place, even in the wizarding world, she was pretty sure that would get her classified as mad.
“No, it’s mine.” A small smirk crossed the Slytherin’s features, and Hermione glared.
Silence filled the space between them, though strangely enough,h it didn’t feel uncomfortable, considering that every conversation they’d had was usually sniping or bickering with each other. She had anticipated something far worse. Finally, however, her curiosity got the better of her. “But seriously, you Potter, why are you here?”
“Because I didn’t want to be in the dungeons.”
Rolling her eyes, the young Ravenclaw sighed, “You Slytherins are all the same.”
“I promise you we aren’t.”
A moment passed before Hermione finally had to nod; he might be the only Slytherin she had run into that hadn’t called her a mudblood. The two of them argued, called each other names, and generally didn’t get along, but she could honestly say nothing he had called her had been hurtful… “You might be the only Slytherin I respect, but if you tell anyone,e I’ll transfigure you into a teacup.”
“No, you won’t. We haven’t learned yet.”
“Says you.”
They glared at each other for a moment, and Hermione cursed the flutter in her heart when his glare turned into a smirk. “You’re insufferable,” she muttered.
“What was that,t Granger?”
With a huff, Hermione glared again, “Are you going to tell me why you’re in here or not?”
“I have my reasons.” Harry finally said, “But I just needed to get away, everyone’s talking about the holidays, and I’m the only one in my house staying. It just reminded me that I don’t fit in.” His eyes widened as he realized what he’d admitted, “But if you tell anyone I said that, I’ll turn you into a teacup.”
“No, you won’t, we haven’t learned yet.” Hermione returned.
“Using my own words against me?”
“You started it.” She reminded him, her mind racing- she had never considered Harry might not feel at home in his own house. Merlin knew she wasn’t exactly popular in Ravenclaw, but people more or less liked her, and she had Padma, who had been her best friend since they’d met on the HogwartsExpresss. What would it be like to feel distanced from your own house? The bushy-haired teenager didn’t say anything, just nodded. “It can’t be easy. Especially with Sirius Black on your trail.”
Hermione gave him a moment before continuing, “I’m sorry you can’t go home for the holidays.” She couldn’t imagine not going home for the holidays; seeing her parents was the best part. Didn’t he have relatives like that? Again, she didn’t say anything, just reached into her pocket and found an old paperclip resting at the bottom of it. Pulling it out, she transfigured it into a bookmark and handed it to him. “For keeping your place when you study human transfiguration.”
Harry snorted, taking the bookmark. “Happy Christmas, Granger.”
“Happy Christmas,s Potter.” The Ravenclaw replied, “And goodnight.”
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Hermione didn’t think about third year again until the day before the Grangers were scheduled to return to England, when Hedwig came with a package. “I thought we were exchanging gifts when I got back.” Hermione murmured as she took the envelope, “There’s food and Water for you over there,” she muttered. It was technically her own owl’s, but he would just have to learn how to share.
Hermione laughed when she opened the letter and a bookmark fell out- she recognized, of course, that night in the classroom.
So you can keep your place when you’re learning human transfiguration. Your real gift is waiting for you back here. I hope you had a great time.
Love, Harry.
Hermione couldn’t stop the grin on her face as she reread the letter, one hand taking the bookmark and the other holding the letter. “Cheeky gi,” she muttered, putting everything down and going to get a piece of parchment and a quill to write him back.
For the first time in a long time, she couldn’t wait to go home.
-----
It was the first breakfast after the Holidays when it arrived, “What in Merlin’s name?” Hermione muttered as the owl dropped off a package in front of her. She rarely got mail, and when she did,d it was from her parents- who she had just spent the entire holiday with. Had they really gotten her something else?
“What is it?” Padma asked curiously.
Hermione didn’t answer; her focus was on unwrapping the package, and when she saw what it was, her eyes narrowed despite the smirk forming on her lips.
“A book on human transfiguration?” Padma asked in confusion.
“It’s nothing, just astupidd prank,” Hermione muttered, her eyes drifting over to the Slytherin table where Potter was watching her with a look somewhere between amusement and curiosity in his eye.
Oh, she was going to hex him next time they were alone….