"Hermione," whispered a voice from far away. A girl with chesnut hair, held tight in a pony tail, shook awake, a large book falling to the carpeted floors. Her face was red from the heat of the warm fire next to her, and books, which were piled high around her, created a cage of knowledge. Her black shoes were on the floor, and a comfortable blanket was placed softly on her body. She could feel the soft knit of her clothing underneath the blanket, and the emblem of a familiar lion roaring on her maroon red sweater. With her vision blurry, she couldn't tell who had woke her up. Yawning, the girl sat up, her neck clutching a piercing pain. She had fallen asleep again, with her books protecting her from the dangers of the Wizarding World.

     "Hermione?" repeated the voice, picking up the precious book from the floor and setting it softly back in her lap. "Why aren't you in your bed?" Blinking repeatedly, the girl, Hermione, opened her eyes and stared into the green eyes of Ginny Weasley. Ginny, who had been friends with Hermione ever since Hermione's second year of Hogwarts, was dressed in her maroon red pajamas, her flaming, red hair pulled back with a pink head band. Freckles dotted Ginny's face, and her kind smile welcomed anyone who walked into her life.

     "I dunno," stuttered Hermione, recalling what had happened before she drifted off. She could vaguely remember one of Ginny's brothers, Fred, ridiculing her for creating a cage of ancient books that she was planning to read. It was not something out of the blue, as his identical twin, George, was prone to trouble with his twin. Forcing the twins to run off to bed, Hermione continued to read until crickets outside chirpped loudly, creating a soft lullaby that helped Hermione fall asleep. 

     "Well, I imagine you would be much more comfortable in your bed, rather than sleeping on a couch." laughed Ginny. "I'll let you go upstairs. I just wanted to wake you so you wouldn't be confused when you woke up." Hermione nodded and smiled as Ginny tip-toed up the girl's dormitory stone steps. 

     As Hermione set her thick book, with the bold title of Hogwarts: A History pasted on the cover, on the uncomfortable couch, she walked up quietly walked up the stairs, crawling into her comfortable bed and drifitng off to sleep. 

     As the day began, the bright sun leaked through the glass windows, announcing the beginning of morning. A small group of girls were always the first to reach the Grand Hall, waking the rest of the girls from their slumber. 

     As the bird's began to sing their morning lullabies, Quidditch players in the field down below ran out into the fog covered grass, soaring into the crisp air. Sighing, Hermione packed her books and quills in her book bag, and skipped down the stone steps of the girl's dormitory. But as she reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, who guarded the Gryffindor tower, Fred and George bumped into Hermione, blushing furiously. 

     "Watch where you're going," snickered George, elbowing Fred in the rib cage. The twins frowned at each other and said simotaniously, "Why aren't you in Ravenclaw?" 

     "We've been over this," Hermione answered, rolling her eyes and attempting to move through the indentical twins. "I'm not in Ravenclaw because of my bravery and loyalty. Now, if you would excuse me." Clearing her throat, the twins seperated simultaneously, allowing Hermione to move through the blushing twins, who punched each other in the side with irritation. 

     As Hermione reached the Grand Hall, packed with thousands of witches and wizards eating devouring their flavorful morning meal, she kept her head down as she passed the Slytherin table, crowded with boys and girls in black coats, with a grey and green tie hung around their neck. A boy - whom she claimed was her enemy - sat at the Slytherin dining table, speaking with two hideous boys. Staring at her book, the boy glanced at her as she passed by, smirking as he came up with a plan to seek attention. 

     Hundreds of loyal and confident students sat at the Gryffindor table, chewing on their delightful morning meal's. An empty space on the bench was where she always sat, with the legendary Harry Potter, the only known survivor of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, sitting in front of her. But as she reached her seat, all Hermione could see was the Slytherin table in front of her. 

     "Have you seen Harry," asked Fred, who was panting after his run to the table.

     "Yeah - we haven't seen him since last night," added George, glancing nervously at Harry's vacant bench. Ginny, shrugged and responded quickly, "I don't recall seeing him. I remember him running up to the boy's dormitory, but other than that, I haven't heard from him. Hermione? What about you?" 

     Hermione, feeling her ears turn pink as she felt Fred's eyes burning into her book, glanced throughout Hogwarts: A History, and answered, "I haven't seen him since dinner, actually. I remember him being distracted with something, but I honestly can't recall anything else." George snickered and nudged his twin, whispering something under his breath, making Fred snicker for a split second, until he saw Hermione roll her eyes.

     Slowly turning the dry pieces of parchment within her book, with the contained fires and the magical ceiling providing light, the noise of the other students died out as a Slytherin boy with blonde hair walked by, his arms crossed. Rolling his eyes, the boy murmured, "Only an insufferable know it all would read a book during their breakfast." 

     "You have a big mouth for a stupid Slytherin," retorted Fred before he could stop himself, towering over the coward. The Slytherin glanced at Hermione and scowled, shoving Fred down into his seat carelessly.

     "Looks like you got a boyfriend, Granger. Now, you better calm yourself before Snape comes to get you, Weasley." snarled the cute boy, his blonde hair flat against his pale face. Straightening his useless green and grey tie, he stomped back to the Slytherin table, where his fat friends, Crabbe and Goyle, pounded him on the back. But Hermione couldn't seem to keep her eyes of the boy, as he frowned and put his head in his hands, as if embarrassed about what he said. He seemed almost apologetic through his actions, but Hermione couldn't wrap her head around the sly cockroach. Her brain switched from different opinions, until Harry crashed through the Grand Hall doors, making thousands of heads turn to examine what happened. 

     Hermione, sighing with relief that he was alright, rolled her eyes and teased, "Took you long enough." Harry collapsed into his seat, his jet black hair scattered all over his head, and his round glasses looking dishelved on his pale face. 

     "Oi," Fred uttered. "You look like rubbish." 

     Harry, shoving large pieces of bacon into his mouth, took off his glasses, and croaked, "It's none of your buisness."

     "You're letting him in, aren't you?" inferred Hermione instantly, as Harry's scar seemed to glow red on his face. Scowling, Harry growled, "I can't help it! We've been over this - it's too strong. It's our fourth year at Hogwarts, and he keeps getting more advanced, dragging me into these nightmares-"

     "Visions," corrected the brightest witch of her age.

     "Excuse me, Hermione, but would you let me speak for a moment?!" Harry screamed, slamming his hand on the wood table, the glass bowls and plates shivering on the table top. Heads from the Gryffindor table examined the situation, as Hermione blushed with embarrassment. Annoyance flooded through her body, until she argued, "Well, I don't think you're trying hard enough to get him out."

     "Oh, I'm not?" snapped Harry, throwing his glasses carelessly back onto his face.

     "No," answered Hermione, slamming her book closed. "No, you're not. Look at yourself, Harry! You're oblivious to the tortue you are causing yourself! Not He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, not your potion exams, not anything! You're so careless, sometimes!"

     "Of course, Hermione. You're always right. How about you trade places with me and experience the pain! I have been struggling with this ever since the first day of Hogwarts!" shrieked Harry, tugging at his black hair. "Do you want to switch places, because I gladly would! You're always receiving the best grades, living the best life, and aren't famous everywhere around the world." 

     Hermione didn't know how to respond. A lava monster of hatred began to boil up inside her, attempting to lash out at Harry, making her grab her slim wand within her pocket's of her robe. 

     "Harry, I didn't mean to disturb you! I just tried to help! But if that's too harsh-"

     "Honestly, I don't want to listen to your stupid voice, anymore. For the brightest witch of your age, it's a disappointment that you're not using your head," snarled Harry, rolling his green eyes and escaping the Grand Hall. Tears sprang to Hermione's eyes as the comment stabbed her in the chest, leaving an open wound that was only visible to her. She didn't even realize the silence of the Great Hall as people turned to watch, with only the faint crackling of fire and the soft twinkling of stars up above breaking the silence. 

     "Hermione-" began Fred, walking over to her side of the table, where a small puddle of tears collected on the table top. Hermione shook her head and stormed out of the Great Hall obliviously, leaving her book on the table, as well as the notes and paper's she kept within her story. But she didn't go far, as she slammed into the cute boy at the Slytherin table, who was crossing his arms nervously. 

     "Hermione," he yelled as she dashed off, hiding her face glazed with tears. 

     "Not now, Draco," she responded, until she tripped and fell, a sob escaping her mouth. She couldn't contain herself, anymore. Tears streamed down her face like waterfalls as she sat against the cement walls of the castle, her eyes closed and her arms crossed against her chest.

     "Hermione, you're obviously flustered." Draco said matter-of-factly, cautiously sitting down next to her, as to not get ripped into two by Hermione's rage. She attempted to speak, but her sob's interrupted her words, choking off what she was going to say. Tears continued to collapse onto the floor and Hermione's Gryffindor robes, and her brown hair flipped over her red face. 

     "Erm, what happened?" asked Draco awkwardly, staring at the walls in front of him. Hermione coughed and stuttered, "It-It's Harry. He's-he's been taking all of his-his rage on-onto me, and I can't-"

     "Can't conceal your feelings." finished the Slytherin, blushing at his remark. Hermione sniffed and looked up at Draco, a smile shining on her face. The sound of voices with the Great Hall echoed throughout the hallway, as Draco continued to stare at the cement wall. Hermione didn't know what to do as she began looking at the blank wall, as well, her tears halting to a stop, and her monster slowly vanishing carelessly, replaced by butterflies in her stomach.

     "Did you really mean what you said in the Great Hall," asked Hermione, watching students exit slowly from the Great Hall, talking and laughing loudly. Draco sighed and didn't respond, until he shook his head, and answered, "I don't know." 

     Hermione smiled encouragingly, standing up and dusting off her robes. Clearing her throat, she said, "Goodbye, Draco. Thank you for, er, helping me. I will see you around." Draco blushed and nodded, not breaking his eye contact with the wall, allowing Hermione to walk back into the Great Hall, as to finish her breakfast and perpare for the dawn. But as she reached the Gryffindor table, a group of Gryffindor's were surrounded around Fred, who was looking at the table, as if reading something from a book. 

     "Fred," Hermione questioned, sitting down curiously on her seat, examining the students fleeing from Fred nervously, making the red-haired twin turn pale. As Hermione looked at what Fred was holding, all the color in her face vanished, and her eyes went wide. It was her book, with her journal secretly placed within.

     "Fred." growled Hermione, snatching the book from his hand's instantly. "What are you doing, you nitwit?!" 

     "George made me," insisted Fred, crossing his arms in embarrassment and shame. Hermione scowled and looked at the open book, blushing as a name in large letters was pasted across the top of the page in her handwriting. Clenching her fists, Hermione placed her head in her hand's, and murmured, "Dear, God, Fred, are you mental?"

     "I'm sorry, Hermione. I just got curious." Fred blurted out nervously. Grabbing her book, Hermione shook her head and ran back into the hallway, where Crabbe whispered something into Draco's ear, making him roll his eyes with concern as Hermione dashed down the hall, her robes billowing behind her.