Hey everyone! This is my first fan fic. I hope you all like it. Let me know what you think. If you hate it then there really isn't much point in going on is there?

EDIT: I finally have a Chapter cheat for those of you who don't find it exciting to browse through the pages!

Chapter 1--Chapter 2--Chapter 3--Chapter 4--Chapter 5--Chapter 6--Chapter 7--Chapter 8--Chapter 9--Chapter 10--Chapter 11--Chapter 12--Chapter 13--Chapter 14--Chapter 15--Chapter 16--Chapter 17--Chapter 18--Chapter 19
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If you liked this fic, see the sequel: UNTIL DEATH DO US PART - Sa9+.

I also wrote a fic entitled As the Embers Die - Sa13+.

My three one-time ficlets include:
Another Beginning - Sa9+
The Luckiest Woman - Sa9+
Shades of Gray - Sa13+
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Hermione Granger gave a loud, unladylike snort into her pillow as she started awake. Fumbling her hand around, the sleep gluing her eyes shut, she slammed her hand down onto her enchanted alarm clock. The incessant buzzing ceased, and she rolled over onto her back, moaning. The soft, melodic chirp of some blue birds outside her window filled her ears, and the light peaked through her shut eyelids. Defeated, she yawned and stretched, blinking frequently as her opened eyes adjusted to the light. She gave a loud sigh and swung her legs around the side of her bed. Giving another wide yawn, she looked to her left to see Parvati and Lavender still sound asleep.

Hermione smiled amusedly at Lavender's position. Her head was limp on her shoulder, her mouth wide open, and she was seated upright. By the looks of it, Hermione assumed she had fallen asleep reading her Teen Witch magazine. Her sleek, brown hair mashed against the headboard, and Hermione knew the squealing that would occur once she looked into the mirror.

Wanting to avoid this at all costs, Hermione made her way towards the lavatory. Seizing her blue toothbrush among the purple and pink, Hermione brushed her teeth vigorously, staring into space, her mind reflecting on the night before.

The Hogwarts doors had opened wide with hospitality, welcoming her and her classmates to the start of their sixth year. The feast had been exceptionally good, she recalled. Everything was alight and alive and exactly the same as always. Well, almost the same. She smiled to herself with amusement and surprise.

She hadn't realized how much her two best friends had changed over the course of the summer. Harry had grown taller and filled out, his once lanky form more built. His hair was still a black mess, though slightly longer. His eyes seemed to have gotten greener if that was possible, and he appeared more like a man than he had the previous year. Of course, there was a perfect explanation for that.

She recalled their vacation season. She and Ron and the whole Order had spent the summer comforting Harry, giving him the love he needed. Losing Sirius was hard on everyone, but no one was in a lifetime of a thousand years more depressed and lonely than Harry. He seemed to have matured beyond his years and finally, but slowly accepted his godfather's fate. He was appreciative and thankful toward them all, and Hermione was thankful he didn't lose his mind.

Hermione spit a mouthful of toothpaste under the running water, her brow furrowed. She hoped they could all move on. Which brought her to...

Ron. Sweet, infuriating, loyal Ron. He had changed too on his level of maturity. He was still taller than everyone and a little gawky, but had maintained his fiery red hair and hot-headed ways. It was true, he had become more physically in shape, but Hermione always pictured Ron as a child. He never really opened up like she or Harry did, but was understanding and loving at the right times. The ordeal in the Department of Mysteries seemed to have changed him for the better, and he seemed intent on repairing his relationships.

Placing her toothbrush back in the holder, Hermione wiped her mouth, smiling to herself. She was so lucky to have two such wonderful best friends.

Somewhere in the room, another enchanted alarm clock sounded, causing Hermione's two roommates to stir. She heard Parvati snickering as she prodded Lavender awake. Their conversation was muffled, but the squeal from Lavender was prominent, and Hermione knew that within a few seconds, the girl would burst through the bathroom door.

She hardly had time to place her toothbrush in its proper place before the door swung open, banging loudly against the wall. A frazzled Lavender Brown, breathing heavily, shoved her aside and stared, horrified, in the mirror.

“Why me?” she shrieked miserably, attacking her wild mop of hair violently with a comb. “Why me? First day of school and I have to look like this!”

Parvati appeared in the doorway clearly torn between pity, empathy, and amusement.

“Morning,” she laughed, greeting Hermione. “You may want to clear out soon.”

Hermione nodded, squeezing past the drama queen and heading for the door. “Right.”

She made her way back to the room, her eyes seeking the clock.

"7:00," she muttered softly to herself. She would have to hurry if she wanted to make breakfast.

She scurried over to her wardrobe and grabbed her school uniform and robes. Stripping out of her pajamas, she threw on her robes, and folded her pajamas nicely. Once her bed was made, she made her way back towards the bathroom. She had forgotten to grab a hair band, and she needed to get her curls out of her eyes.

“’Scuse me,” she said, peeking into the bathroom.

Her eyebrows lifted in mild surprise when she spotted Lavender. Her hair no longer stood up like tangled vines. Instead, it flowed down her back long, smooth, and soft. She was fully dressed in her tight uniform, her face home to a full amount of makeup. She stood mere inches away from the mirror, her brow furrowed, as she plucked away at her eyebrows with silver tweezers. Parvati copied her, also fully ready to go. Hermione was impressed. In just a summer, these beauty queens shaved almost an hour off their prep time. Hermione’s chocolate brown eyes scanned the tiled floor, taking in the heaps of pink and purple pajamas. Makeup, lotions, soaps, brushes, and nail polish scattered the counters, and the cloud of perfume was so thick, Hermione felt a little lightheaded.

“Wow!” she said, grabbing her hair band from under a pile of brushes. “You guys work fast.”

“Well, we’ve become much more efficient,” Parvati said, wincing when she plucked a particularly tender spot. “We can’t always take up the bathroom too long. It’s not fair to you.”

Hermione’s eyes grew wide, startled and touched. “Wow. Well, thanks, Parvati.”

“Plus, if we’re too late for breakfast, we won’t get the seats next to the really gorgeous boys!” Lavender said seriously, lathering her lips with an extra coat of lip gloss. Smacking her lips, she turned to give Hermione a smile, which Hermione returned tiredly. Typical.

“Anyway, we should get going, Pav,” Lavender said to her companion. “Hermione, we’ll see you la…Oh my gosh!”

Hermione started, glancing over at her as she gasped. “What?”

“Hermione, please do me a favor,” Lavender said exasperatedly. She looked at her tragically.

“Sure” Hermione agreed.

“Look in the mirror!”

Sighing, slightly confused, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Staring back at her was a slender 16-year-old girl with an incomplete ponytail. She too had matured and grown over the summer into a beautiful and vibrant young woman. However, this reflection looked rather older than a girl of only sixteen. Though her warm, brown eyes filled with wisdom beyond her years, they had little purple circles sleeping under them. Her new dress robes were a size larger than she was and hid her nice figure and well-proportioned curves. Her frizzed and messy brown hair stuck up like a bush in the ponytail. Even her face, usually rosy and alight, looked pale and dull.

“What?” Hermione repeated impatiently, pulling a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"What?” Lavender said, clearly repulsed. “Hermione, think this through. Is this what you want to look like for your sixth year? Look, you’re a modest and down to earth girl. You’re smart and brainy and everything, but news flash. It’s not a crime to look your age.”

Ignoring Hermione’s embarrassed protests, she rummaged around the countertop and picked out one of the makeup kits. Meanwhile, Parvati led Hermione to the sink and shoved her head down, pulling out the band. Lavender muttered to herself as her best friend soaked Hermione’s hair.

“What are you doing, Parvati?” Hermione demanded, surprised at the girl’s strength.

“I’m making it easier to tame your wild brown curls, of course!” Parvati responded in the same exasperated tone as her friend. “We can’t let it stick out like that anymore!”

Hermione saw Lavender nodding profusely in the mirror, surveying numerous tubes and sticks. Without warning, Parvati dragged Hermione up and began to scrub her head with a towel. Hermione’s neck began to ache at the pressure, and she had to close her eyes. Somewhere to her right, Lavender began to talk again.

“Now, Hermione, I’m making you your own makeup kit. I don’t have time this minute to explain it all to you, but sometime this week, I’ll give you a short session about tones and combinations and such. It’ll be like Femininity 101.” She laughed to herself.

Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes. In lessons, Lavender was almost never prepared. But talk makeup, and she was the most organized person on the planet. After another five minutes of drying and chatting, Parvati advised her to check out her hair.

Hermione obeyed.

“Wow,” she said softly, once again astonished. Her untamed curls had dried into soft, shiny and flowing brown locks. She smiled in spite of herself. “Er…thanks, Parvati.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lavender spoke up suddenly. “But hair is only one part.”

She seized Hermione’s chin and turned it so she faced her. With astonishing speed and explanation, Lavender worked and primped and prepped Hermione in a whirl of blush, mascara, and lip gloss. Once she was done, she demanded to know Hermione’s opinion. Once more, Hermione stared into the mirror, taken aback at what she saw.

She looked the same, but looked completely different at the same time. The light pink blush accented her high cheek bones and took away the pale tinge of her skin. The clear lip gloss made her lips appear full and shiny, and the mascara widened her eyes, so they were big and alight. Somehow with the concealer, the purple bags were gone, and her teeth looked whiter than usual.

“Well? What do you think?” Lavender demanded, her arms crossed as she surveyed her work.

Hermione turned shyly, a small smile coming to her lips. “It’s nice,” she said softly. “Thanks.”

Lavender smiled while Parvati giggled. “I told you. Your pretty, Hermione, but you need to learn to show it once in a while.”

“Well, I guess I’ll see you later, then,” Hermione said. “Thank you. It was…interesting.”

Hermione left the bathroom and went to pick up her bag filled with her textbooks. Making sure she had everything, she headed for the door. Who knew what time it was? She didn’t want to be any later than she already was. She was very proud of her punctuality. Just as she began to turn the knob, Lavender raced out the bathroom, Parvati on her tail.

“Wait!” she squealed. “We’re not done!”

“What else is there to do?” Hermione asked, now annoyed. “Look, I’m going to be late. Harry and Ron are waiting for me, and we still have to eat and get our schedules, and…”

“Just go and change and we’ll let you go,” Parvati told her, grabbing her bag.

Hermione looked down to observe her outfit. “I can’t change. We were uniforms. Look, this has been fun and everything, but…”

“Hermione, you’re swimming in your robes!” Lavender exclaimed. She ran to Hermione’s wardrobe and threw it open, searching through the clothes.

“Hey!” Hermione cried out. “What are you doing?”

“Here!” Lavender said, the glow of triumph on her face. She pulled out another set of robes and uniform. “These are your robes from last year, right?”

“Yes,” Hermione said cautiously. “They’re extras in case I run out before the laundry.”

“Not anymore,” Parvati said, starting to pull of Hermione’s robes. “You have to wear clothes that actually fit you, Hermione. Honestly.”

Clearly the thought of wearing new robes mortified the both of them. No longer willing to waste any more time arguing, Hermione sighed, defeated, and held out her hands. Lavender beamed and handed her the outfit. Hermione shook her head as she quickly changed her outfit. She had to admit, the clothes fit her much better, and she didn’t feel as weighed down. She picked up her bag and swung it over her shoulder.

“There,” she said, widening her arms. “Can I go now?”

Without waiting for an answer, Hermione swiftly exited the room, Parvati and Lavender smiling in satisfaction behind her. As she descended the stairs, Hermione couldn’t help but feel a small sense of new beginning. She felt a little better, she had to admit. Maybe it was a positive thing. She supposed she’d have to see. Until then, she needed to move if she was going to make breakfast.

Entering the Gryffindor common room, Hermione spotted Harry sitting by the fireplace in one of the large cushy chairs.

"Is that you Hermione?" asked Harry's deep voice behind a copy of The Daily Prophet. "We were waiting for you."

"Yes," she replied, fastening her bag tightly. She scanned the room. Something, or rather someone, was missing. "Hey, where's Ron? We have to go to breakfast and get our schedules."

"He's coming. He got up a little late," he replied, turning the page and not looking up.

"Ok," she mumbled. Ron always got up late. She tapped her foot on the floor and glanced at the clock. She let out an impatient sigh which made Harry chuckle.

"You're still as impatient as ever Hermione. When will you ever become..."

He stopped in mid-sentence. Hermione glanced over at him. His sparkling green eyes stared at her and grazed over her, up and down. He grinned slowly and knowingly and looked at her face, which was smiling hesitantly back. She self-consciously widened her arms, waiting for his opinion.

"Look who finally came out of her cocoon."

"What are you talkin' about Harry?" came a sleepy voice behind Hermione.

Hermione lugged her bag and turned around to find a sleepy and scruffy-looking Ron standing there, his shirt un-tucked and his tie untied. He rubbed his eyes, groaning loudly, his red hair standing up.

"Let's go to the Great Hall,” he said groggily. “I'm starving."

"Again?" teased Hermione. "After the 10 pounds of food you consumed last night?"

"Shut up, Hermi..." He finally stopped rubbing his eyes and gazed at Hermione with wide eyes. He gawked, seemingly speechless. Hermione smirked, feeling pleased. She was sick of Ron treating her like she wasn’t a girl. Just thinking about Ron’s annoyingly expressed amazement at the fact back in fourth year made her insides burn in anger. Maybe now he’d keep his comments to himself.

"What are you staring at?" she asked, making a face at him. He didn’t answer, so she changed the subject. "Well come on! Let's go before we miss our schedules."

With that, she turned her back on an admiring Harry and a speechless, somewhat dazed Ron, smiling. Whether she gave her roommates credit or not, she felt victorious somehow. As she made her way out toward the portrait hole, she knew that things were starting off on the right foot.
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Ron shook his head and blinked, coming out of his momentary trance. Harry's face came back into focus, and Ron noticed that he was smirking.

"What's up with you, mate?" Ron asked, clearing his throat loudly, trying to sound casual.

“Nothing,” Harry replied, still smirking. “It’s just that you looked pretty caught up in something. Are you okay?”

Ron's ears flared red with embarrassment, and Harry gave him a knowing look.

"What do you mean?" he stammered flustered.

Harry laughed softly and continued to smirk. Ron got more and more uncomfortable and angry. "WHAT?" he yelled. He glared fiercely across the room, daring Harry.

"You like her don't you?" Harry grinned, folding his arms across his muscular chest.

"Who?" Ron asked sharply, hoping to goodness he wouldn't guess.

"Who?" Harry snorted. "Hermione!"

Ron's face turned deep purple as he stammered, “Huh? I do not like... Hermione? Where did that come from? Are you touched in the head? How could you think that?" There was a long pause before he lowered his voice into a desperate whisper. "Do you think she knows?" He was utterly horrified. If Harry knew, was it possible that she had figured it out as well?

Harry laughed triumphantly and slapped Ron on the back. "No," he smiled. "She doesn't know... Oh gosh, FINALLY! I thought you'd never admit it. Now you can finally tell her and I won't have to watch you two blunder your affections to each other anymore! I have to say it’s starting to become really unbearable."

Ron grabbed Harry's collar roughly. Their faces were inches apart, Ron’s eyes filled with warning. "If you breathe one word to her or any soul, I will kill you!"

Harry didn't want Ron to think him untrustworthy or to kill him, so he put his hands up in mock surrender and promised. "So," he said, straightening his collar. "How long?"

“I dunno. Since about fourth year maybe," Ron replied glumly. "I mean everything was fine and then all of the sudden…” He let out a hasty scoff, running his fingers through his red hair. “But, mate, I swear! This summer she drove me crazy! Everything she did just…And when I wanted to get away, I couldn’t. She was everywhere, and I couldn't get her out of my head. It's scary. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to make it go away. And now she’s gone all…makeup-y and everything.” He groaned longingly. “She can never find out. I don't want her to ever know."

"Why not?" Harry inquired. "She might feel the same way."

"Doubt it," Ron grumbled.

"I don’t. I think you should go for it!" Harry declared.

"Go for what?" asked Hermione, re-entering the common room. She heaved the strap of her bag over her shoulder again. She was bent over by its weight, looking uncomfortable.

"Nothing. Uh, schedules," Ron muttered, turning a new shade of red.

"What's up?" Hermione asked, her brow rising suspiciously. She knew that Ron’s sudden change of shades was never a good sign. But, she did not receive a response from either friend, so she shrugged and beckoned out the door. "Let's go! We'll miss schedules!"

She walked out the portrait hole again, and Ron sighed as he watched her float away like an angel. He caught a glimpse of Harry and saw that he was smirking again.

"Not a word!" he hissed and followed Hermione out to the Great Hall.

Harry followed suit and grinned to himself. Maybe this year would have a nice little twist in it after all. He exited the common room, also feeling as though the year had started off on the right foot.

Well that's it for now. Tell me what you think so far.
Shannon

It's very cool! I'm not really a R/Hr shipper, but this one might make me change my mind! Post more soon!

LOL!!!! i love your story, PAMS!!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS!!!!PA MS!!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS !!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS!! !!PAMS!!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS!!!!

PAMS!!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS!!!!PA MS!!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS !!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS!! !!PAMS!!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS!!!!PAMS! !!!

lol. well i'm glad someone likes it! I just saw PoA and it's really good... a little disappointing for an obsessing fan, but it is AWESOME! you guys gotta see it! now back to the trio....

The three headed for the Great Hall together and used code names and phrases to talk about the Order’s latest strategies. As they passed through the corridors, Harry and Ron uneasily noticed that people were looking at them and whispering. Boys stopped in their tracks looking stunned, dazed, and transfixed. Girls looked on in disbelief and jealousy. Ron caught two Ravenclaw boys staring and whispering, "WOW! Look how hot did she got!" "Wondered what happened to her." "Guess she's been holding out on us; holding concealed weapons."

Hermione took no notice, busy hoisting her bag repeatedly up her shoulder. An enraged Ron glared at the admirers. “Now they notice her," he grumbled disgustedly. Harry chortled in his wake. They made it to the Great Hall, and Hermione continued to unknowingly turn heads. Unfortunately, they happened to run into their least favorite person... Draco Malfoy.

His bigger, and no doubt dumber, cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, surrounded him as usual. With an immense lack of grace and tact, he stepped in their way as they tried to avoid him. They were not afraid of him, but Harry thought it best for Malfoy’s health if they steered clear. Hermione glared at him. Yet, like her own two best friends, she couldn’t help but notice that Malfoy had grown considerably over the summer. Taller with a strong look about him, Malfoy looked, dare she say it, attractive? Repulsive as the thought was, she couldn’t deny it fully. His hair no longer inhabited four bottles of gel, but was soft and hung in his face seductively over his cold grey eyes. She looked at him grimly and knew that no matter how much he had changed physically, the inside was still the same hard and cold mess. He was still the evil excuse for a human being.

"Oh goody," Malfoy smirked, crossing his arms across his chest. "It's Potty and Weasel and their Mudblood pet. Did you miss me?" He laughed coldly, Crabbe and Goyle sniggering behind him.

"You?" Hermione laughed harshly. "Why on earth would we waste a fragment of our lives missing a little ferret like you?"

Malfoy's cold steel grey eyes flickered dangerously as he turned toward her. She kept his cold gaze unflinching and stood her ground, preparing for an insult.

"Look boys," he said, addressing Crabbe and Goyle and surveying her up and down. "The Mudblood wanted me so bad that she attempted to actually look like a girl. How miserably she failed in this impossible task."

Hermione gave him a look of the deepest loathing, and Ron clenched his fists, beside himself with rage.

"Look Malfoy," he snarled. "Since we got your dear daddy in Azkaban, and now everyone knows what you and your family really are, you must forgive Hermione if she doesn't cry her eyes out if a great git like you doesn't fancy her."

Malfoy looked rather flustered and his pale face blushed pink as they laughed at him.

"Let's go," he muttered to his cronies, and they walked away, Malfoy casting nasty looks their way. They laughed all the way to the Gryffindor table. Hermione looked at a heavily breathing Ron as he tried to calm himself down. They took their seats and spooned out their breakfast. Hermione turned to her red-headed companion.

She leaned over and gave him a quick, one-armed hug and smiled, touched. "Thanks Ron."

"He can't keep treating you like that!" he muttered, looking into his breakfast.

Harry saw Ron's discomfort and changed the subject.

"Here're our schedules."

The trio looked theirs over and saw that the boys had Divination first. Harry looked up and groaned. "If Trelawney's back, I'm faking sick all year!" Hermione and Ron laughed and she got up, getting her bag ready to go.

"I'll see you in DADA okay?" she told them and headed to Arithmancy, flinging her bag over her shoulder yet again.

She was almost to the door, when a seventh year had purposely thrown his book in her way. Startled, Hermione bent down to pick it up. She grunted in discomfort as her heavy bag slipped again, but she straightened up and gave the guy his books.

"Thanks," he breathed with a goofy look on his face.

“You’re welcome,” Hermione smiled warmly and continued out of the Great Hall, the seventh year staring at her the whole way.

Ron saw this action and shoved his plate away from him. "I'm not so hungry anymore,” he groaned, holding his stomach.

Harry as Ron shoved his books into his bag furiously, muttering darkly to himself.

He’s got it bad. Harry thought. He gave a loud sigh and addressed Ron out loud. "I wonder who our DADA teacher will be. He wasn't there last night was he?"

Ron shook his head and replied, "I just hope Dumbledore picked someone normal."

Harry silently agreed, remembering his past teachers. Together he and Ron made their way to the North Tower, one of them thinking of DADA and the other of the dazzling sight of a very good friend.
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Hermione sat in Professor Vector's Arithmancy class and tried to concentrate. For the first time in her life, she was bored. Vector reviewed lessons she had already learned and mastered. Her mind tried to focus her attention on her teacher, but drifted to her best friends. Harry had seemed perfectly genial, but she sensed something was wrong with Ron. And it wasn’t just at breakfast. He had acted peculiar all summer, being normal one minute then all formal the next. She thought it had gotten better the past few days, but his surliness and dull annoyance in the Great Hall confused her. Frowning in frustration, she decided it was merely a "guy" thing, or a phase he would soon finish. She sighed and looked out the window into the lovely day that enhanced Hogwarts's extraordinary beauty. She looked forward to Herbology when they could go outside for lessons. She enjoyed the sunshine warming the greenhouse and the sound of Professor Sprout’s praises filling her ears. She smiled contentedly. She missed this place. She was so pleased to be back and have school to focus on…not just Harry and the Prophecy.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a book two clunks at her feet. She looked southward and saw two Arithmancy lying by her shoes. She peered up to find Ernie Macmillan and a boy from Hufflepuff looking at her dazed and dreamily. Confused as to how they could have dropped two heavy textbooks, she picked them up and handed each to its rightful owner.

"Thanks," they breathed much like the seventh year in the Great Hall.

Hermione gave them a half-smile, and turned her attention back to Professor Vector, trying to ignore some of the stares that came her way. She supposed they wanted to ask questions about the Ministry like so many of her classmates. But, she didn’t want to relive that again. She was glad when the bell rang, and she headed speedily for the DADA room. People glanced at her funny and her brow furrowed, but smoothed when she met up with the boys. They waved at her, and she made her way to talk a seat beside Harry.

“How was your first lesson?” Hermione asked them, pulling out her defense book.

"Trelawney's back," Harry moaned. "But, good news is she didn't predict my death!"

"Yeah," Ron smirked. "I think she's going for Neville now. After what happened in the Ministry, people think that he’s been cursed or something."

Sure enough, Neville walked by looking extremely uneasy.

“I think a lot of people are talking about what happened at the Ministry,” Hermione whispered, leaning forward to the boys. “I think we should prepare ourselves for questions. A lot of people have been giving me funny looks all day.”

Ron opened his mouth to respond, but Harry interrupted him. He didn’t want them to get into a fight right before class. Instead, he directed their attention to the room around them.

“Hey, have you noticed the new decorations?”

For the first time, Hermione scanned her surroundings. The room was different, as it always was when a new teacher occupied it. But this had a completely different feel. It was blood red and dark. Rather humid, the room gave off a masculine and hard feeling. The shelves sported many different books and devises, and the walls, they were shocked to see, held numerous moving photos of professional Quidditch teams. Ron rattled off team names and discussions with Seamus and Harry, while Hermione continued to gaze around the room. She caught Lavender’s gaze, who gave her a smile and thumbs up. Hermione nodded solemnly and stared at the door, waiting expectantly for the teacher. After several minutes, the door knob turned and a tall, young man walked in.

He was athletic and strong, but slumped over a bit. His eyes were black, and he had deep and thick brown hair and eyebrows. He looked passed a rather large nose and nodded to them, sullenly, walking forward, slightly duck-footed. Harry and Ron both felt a painful grip on their wrists. They turned to see Hermione cut off their circulation, her eyes wide and wondrous. She let in a small gasp of surprise and glee as she gently whispered breathlessly. "Viktor."

That's it for now. Hope you like it.
Shannon

Hey. I wanted to wait for another post from someone, but I'm leaving in afew weeks for a 3 week vacation and this is a long story, so I want to post more to keep those of you who check updated. Here's more....

Bulgarian Quidditch star turned professor, Viktor Krum scanned the room with his dark eyes until they fell on a glowing Hermione. His slow smile widened on his sallow face, and he winked. Their eyes locked for a few seconds, before he turned to glare non-threateningly at his other students.

"Vell, hullo to you all," he said in a deep, accented voice.

There was a selective sigh from numerous girls and gasps of disbelief from almost every guy. Ron’s insides twisted sickeningly, and could feel Hermione shiver slightly as the professor glanced at her every so often. He glared at him, putting his neck forward obviously. His jaw clenched and he thought to himself, "Perfect. Just perfect! This is just what I need!"

Much to the ire of Ron, Hermione did not take his eyes off Krum the whole period as he introduced himself and went over his plan for the year. He made an effort to look at the whole class, but unfortunately for Ron, the romantic tension between Krum and Hermione built until they gazed into each other’s eyes. Every time he paused to give her a smile, she blushed and glanced down at her desk. Once, she even turned to Ron with a radiant smile and mouthed something to him: “Oh my gosh! Can you believe this?”

Ron folded his arms and sank down in his desk, painstakingly thrust into a foul mood. Relief washed over him when the bell rang, and it died just as quickly and thoroughly when Hermione and Harry stayed behind to talk to him. When a swooning Parvati Patil left the room with Lavender, Hermione let out a squeal and ran into his open and warm arms.

Hermione clung to him happily. She missed him so much and writing had not been enough. His strong arms held her gently, and he murmured softly into her ear as she shivered. She looked into his curious black eyes and smiled. Remembering herself, she unwillingly pulled away, blushing madly. She hit him playfully on the arm, but kept it there.

"Viktor! I can't believe it!!! You're my...teacher! I can’t believe you’re here. I’ve missed you so much."

“I’ve missed you too, my little Hermyown,” he almost purred, rubbing his thumb up and down her cheek.

The pair laughed and hugged. Then, he did something that took her by surprise. He leaned down and gave her a passionate kiss. She felt her knees weaken as his lips gently caressed hers and she felt safe. A contented sigh escaped her as she put her arms around his neck, stabbing Ron and making Harry exceedingly uncomfortable.

“We’ll just…leave you alone, then,” Harry said, fidgeting.

Hermione did not respond as she continued to stare at Krum, and so Harry grabbed a very red Ron by the elbow and led him out of the room.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Hermione moaned, holding him tighter. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Me too,” he murmured, stroking her hair. “I haff meessed you desperately. You are pleased, yes?”

She stood on her tip toes and pressed her lips to his. A laugh echoed low in his throat and he held her close. He got his answer.
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For the next two months, Ron had a constant, unyielding nausea when he looked at Hermione. She glowed with happiness but because of another man. Worse, he couldn’t concentrate during DADA class. They were utterly unbearable. He used to find Hermione’s success endearing, even though a little annoying. But, now he dreaded her right answers because Krum would make her blush and smile adorably with praise. His grades and mind were clouded with the thick desire to punch Krum's face in when he made her involuntarily tremble. He expressed his anger to Harry one night in the dormitory.

"Hermione hasn't shut up for TWO MONTHS!" he snarled, his head popping out of his T-shirt. "What does she see in that git anyway? Ok, so he's older and rich and famous, but she even said he was not much to look at. And she doesn't even know him! They spent a few months together two years ago."

Harry pulled his own shirt over his head and climbed in his bed into the warmth of his sheets. "This is going to be a bloody mess," he declared, scratching his extremely messy black hair. "Maybe she knows him more than you think. She has been writing to him for over a year. And she may even have visited like he wanted."

"Thanks Harry," Ron growled sarcastically. "Thanks for putting the image of her and him on a beach somewhere snogging in my mind. That makes me feel a whole lot better." He angrily threw his robes at a hooting Pig. "Shut up Pig!" He kicked at the bird and sat down on his bed. “Did it ever occur to you or to her that he could have lied in his letters? How would she know? Who knows what lies he could have told her? I just want to… I mean, to think of her…” He trailed off, moaning miserably.

"Then again," Harry suggested. "Maybe she is going after his fame and fortune after all. You never know."

Ron shot him a withering glance. "She's not like that, and you know it! Remember fourth year when I said that Eloise Midgen's nose was off center? She nearly took my head off. She's not superficial.” He became silent for a few moments, his eyes flickering with different theories. He snapped his fingers. “Maybe he's bewitching her or using her.” He squinted, his eyes dangerous slits. “If he hurts her, I'll kill him with my bare hands!"

Harry shrugged and turned off the light.

"Do you think she knew?" Ron asked in the dark. "You know, about him becoming our teacher?"

Harry shook his head. "No, she nearly broke my wrist when he walked in first day. Besides, it’s kind of sweet that he surprised her."

Ron stood up, his feet pounding on the floor. “Hey, who’s side are you on anyway?”

Harry’s eyes went wide. “Sorry, mate.”

It was silent for a moment, then Ron asked, "Why does she all of the sudden start wearing make up and do her hair and wear clothes that actually fit her now?"

"You know?" Harry pondered. "I think it was for us."

"Huh?"

Harry turned on his side to look at Ron in the blue moonlight. "I think she thinks that we never saw her as a girl."

"Huh?" Ron asked again, not seeing this logic. “Why would you think that?”

"Do you ever pay attention?” Harry teased. Ron stuck his tongue out. Harry laughed. “What I mean is we always kind of treated her like one of the guys. We never talked about girly things or emotions or feelings." He looked relieved. "I guess it started to sink in when we needed dates to the Yule Ball, and Krum came and asked her to the dance. I mean, you were shocked when she told you she already had a date."

Ron's confusion turned to horror, his eyes wide. "Oh no," he groaned. "She thinks I think she's ugly! I didn't mean that, I just meant that she never seemed interested in anyone before."

"Well, when Hermione explained all the things Cho was feeling last year, I knew she really was a girl. NO guy could ever know all that. Besides, I think it makes her feel good and feminine. Girls apparently go through a make up stage. I just think she wanted us to see her differently is all."

"I always thought she was pretty," Ron admitted blushing. "Even when I first met her, and we fought all the time."

Harry snorted. "You still fight all the time."

"The point is," Ron pressed on. "She always was nice looking…beautiful. The makeup and stuff seem to make that stand out. I mean now she's beautiful on the inside and outside. A little mental, but beautiful."

"Don't worry," Harry told him moving onto his back. "If it's meant to be, it'll happen. If not, then just be her friend like you always have been."

“Fine!” Ron sulked, climbing back into his bed. Her shoved the covers to his chin. “’Night,” he muttered.

“’Night.”

The boys fell into a troubled sleep, not knowing at that particular moment Hermione had snuck into the girls' dormitory after a private date with their new professor.

until next time... BYE!~
Shannon

Hey, this is a brill story. you are a really good writer! Keep it up, i will definatly be comin back here to read more!

thanx zippybubblebutt! lol. I like the name. Ok here's more...

Hermione kept catching Krum's eyes during lessons throughout the next few months. They both knew everyone had found out their secret; that they were an "item". Actually, it was against the rules for a teacher and student to go beyond the relationship of teacher and student. Even Hermione couldn’t believe that she was willing to break these rules. However, they seemed to be an exception. Hermione was the smartest witch in the year and never got less than an E on anything. The teachers knew of the romance and seemed to be amused by it. It also showed the friendship Hogwarts students were supposed to build with foreign schools in fourth year. The girls as well as the boys seemed star struck, but found him to be a good teacher despite his age.

Somehow, though, not everything was light and wonderful. Ron, Hermione noticed, seemed fixed in a permanent foul mood. Whenever she got the chance, she consulted Harry, but he seemed determined to avoid the topic, obviously feeling awkward about something. She even asked Ginny if something was going on in the family.

Ginny shook her head. "No. Ron's just…I don't know…going through a phase or something. I hope it's over soon, though. He's making me nervous."

Hermione nodded. He worried her as well. The constant tension between them divided them, and their friendship was strained…more than usual. He even stopped fighting with her, and his appetite had decreased. That sent up the red flag. She wanted him back, so she decided to ask him herself. She was sick of him kicking things whenever she talked about Viktor or asked them to leave so they could have some alone time. The worst was when he began giving her heartbreaking melancholy glances.

She got her chance one Friday evening in a frosty December. He was out shooting goals in the Quidditch pitch alone. She walked over to him, her nose turning pink as the wind harassed it, and watched as he did a series of loops and effortlessly scored a goal.

"Good shot," she clapped to keep the blood flowing.

He looked around and gave her a weak smile. "Thanks."

"Look Ron," she said, playing with a glossy curl. "I was wondering if... if you're okay. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but you haven’t been yourself lately. You’re always in a bad mood, and I just want to know what’s going on. You’re scaring me."

He turned away from her sadly. "Nothing. I'm fine."

"No, you're not," she insisted. "Come down here!" She was exasperated that she wanted to discuss something important while he floated around above. Her neck was stiff. Sighing deeply, he slowly made his way to the ground, where she could see his eyes overcome with an emotion. What was it?

"Ron," she said, putting a hand on his snowy sleeve. "I'm worried about you. What's wrong? You can tell me. We’re best friends, right? What is it?"

He moved away from her touch and answered, "I'm fine."

Anger began to swell inside her. She took all this time to come down to see if she could help, and he acted formal and distant. Did he have a reason to be so rigid around her? She looked at his blank face.

"Come on, Ron, I know you never talk about your feelings, but you should! It's not healthy hiding things and locking them inside where no one can see them. I want to help." He just stared at her as if he did not care at all about what she was saying to him. That's it...

"Fine!" she said angrily. "If you don't have anything to say to me, then that's just fine! I'll go talk to Harry or Viktor. At least they have hearts with some feelings!"

She felt angry and hurt at his shortness with her. She turned around and stomped her way back to the castle. She was almost out of the field, when she felt a hard grip on her shoulder. It forcefully turned her around forcing her to look into the livid face of Ron.
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Hermione's words cut at him like angry knives. He was almost glad she had left, but then realized she thought him heartless and put Krum on a sick pedestal like some kind of god. He rushed quietly after her, his feet crunching the snow, his face flushed with anger. When he reached her, he grabbed her arm firmly and forced her to look at him.

"Ron...what?" she hissed. "What are you doing? Let me go!"

She tried to pull away, but he held her tightly and determinedly, leaving her no choice but to stay where she was.

"How could you?" he whispered, hurt.

"What?" she challenged.

"How can you stand there glaring at me, thinking I am a heartless guttersnipe after everything we've been through? When have I EVER had to explain to you how I feel? You always know. We always understand each other. How can you abandon that? Who are you?"

He looked into her brown eyes hungrily. They were wide and full of confusion. He wanted to pull her close and never let go. Instead, he released her wrists and dropped his hands to his sides, defeated and turned around.

"Ron...I" she stammered, apparently lost for words for once.

He felt tired and beaten. He didn't want her to stammer through some apology or go into another rage.

"Just please, go away," he pleaded, turning away again.

Without a word, Hermione left, leaving Ron to suffer within where this emotional battle raged. As he stood in the cold, unfeeling snow, Ron looked after the girl who had gotten a hold of his heart.

"What are you doing to me Hermione?"
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Hermione walked in a trance up to the castle, no longer feeling the bitter wind that stung her face, but feeling numb in every way. She barely paid attention to where her feet carried her. It wasn’t until after she had taken off her coat, hat, gloves, and scarf that she flung herself on her bed to cry. As she wept into the haven of her pillow, she felt weak, confused and lost. She felt so guilty about what she had done, what terrible words she had uttered to Ron who did nothing to deserve what she called him. She had called him heartless. Ron was right. How could she say something so horrible and cruel to such a wonderful person? Ron had one of the most caring hearts in the world. Who knew that better than her? He had never been one to spill emotion like a faucet, but somehow she always knew how he was feeling.

Until now.

She rolled over onto her back and stared at the ceiling with swollen eyes. Ron's behavior was not only unreadable but foreign to her. The only thing she knew for sure was that he was suffering great pain and sadness. There was something in his eyes that told her that much and it almost broke her heart. Why was he so miserable? The question ripped at her conscious mockingly. She left her warm bed to go look out the window. It was snowing terribly hard and from so high up, the wind sounded like wailing screams. Through the white, she caught sight of a tall, red-headed figure alone with his head in his hands. She felt exceedingly sorry for her words. Tearing her eyes from the lonely sight, she decided to go see Viktor. He would know what to do.

She walked to his classroom where he was seated at his desk. He slowly smiled when he caught sight of her, but he stopped when he saw a single tear run down her flushed cheek.

"Hermione?" he asked in his deep accented voice. She smiled a little. He had finally learned to say her name properly. "Vot is thee matter Hermione?"

She wiped the tear away and silently ran into his warm embrace. He seemed to know her troubles without a word and softly whispered, "It is alright Hermione. It is alright."

She couldn't help but believe him as he stroked her gently, sending shivers up and down her spine. She turned her face up and took in his dark eyes. There heads drew closer together until their lips brushed ever-so gently against each other. She sighed and smiled. Lost in their own world, they didn’t notice a frozen Ron happened to pass the door.
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His heart stopped in his chest and tightened painfully. His head buzzed dully as he witnessed a rather endearing moment when Hermione shared a tender, intimate moment with a man he had only spoken to a few times. His eyes filled with tears that burned like acid. She looked so happy. He realized then and there that she could never feel for him the way he felt for her. But he refused to lose her friendship. If he ever lost her completely, he did not know what he would do. He would put this overwhelming love locked up in the back of his aching heart where it would either die or taunt him wickedly.

With one last look at the happy couple, he headed for the common room, passing boys laughing loudly, girls giggling secretly, couples kissing, holding hands and whispering intimately. He entered the Gryffindor common room to more friends laughing and having a good time. He caught sight of Ginny and Dean Thomas by the fire, Ginny on Dean's lap, holding hands, just staring at each other. He saw the adoration in Dean's eyes for his glowing little sister. He smiled half-heartedly and made his way to the dormitories. Harry and Seamus were playing a game of Wizard's Chess. Harry, who sucked at the game, looked excited as he and Seamus devoured chocolate frogs. Ron felt left out, even though he was the one who decided to go outside.

"Hey," Harry chuckled as he saw Ron enter. "Watch. I'm actually winning! I know! Miracles do happen!"

Seamus threw a frog at him just as his knight pulverized Harry's castle. This caused the pair to roll around on the floor in hoots of wild laughter, gasping for breath. Ron smiled slightly as he pictured Hermione rolling her eyes if she witnessed this.

He forced out a laugh and said, "Don't want to intrude. Think I'll turn in."

With a fake yawn and a bid of farewell, he went to his bed. Staring up at the ceiling, he pictured Hermione enfolded into Krum's massive arms, Ginny and Dean gazing fondly at each other as the flames in the fireplace crackled jovially, ignoring another burst of laughter from Harry and Seamus. He shut his eyes. All his life, he had been part of a noisy, hectic, crowded family where no one had any time to themselves, where someone was constantly there. Now as he lay in his bed, drowning in his misery and pain, he decided that he had never felt more alone in his entire life.

That's it for now! I hope you like it.
Shannon

[size=7] write more

Here's more for those who read.

Hermione fit her snow hat over her glossy curls and wrapped her scarf around her. She smiled with excitement. This was the first trip to Hogsmeade of the year. The student body had been waiting impatiently for an extra two weeks. The trip got postponed because of a loose Blast Ended Skrewt. (No, Hagrid had nothing to do with it). She ventured to the crowded common room to meet up with Harry and Ron. She felt awkward because of what happened the night before. She prayed that everything would be fine, but she prepared herself for Ron to act a little strange or uncomfortable. She wouldn’t be surprised if he was downright angry with her. Scanning the courtyard, she located Ron's red hair towering over the group of Gryffindors. She made her way to them which proved to be a difficult task. She finally reached them and smiled. They each were bundled up, ready for a day in the snowy town of Hogsmeade. Harry beamed at her and to her surprise, so did Ron. She was relieved to see that the silent torture in his eyes had been replaced with a twinkle and a smile. She was convinced then that it definitely was a guy thing. Harry and Ron held out their arms.

"Shall we go?" Harry asked. She took hold of his arm and linked hers in. She turned to Ron.

"Milady," Ron bowed, and she entwined her arm in his as they made their way out to the carriages and onto Hogsmeade.
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"I cannot believe you ate that!" Hermione squeaked with a nauseating look on her face. Ron had just swallowed a Cockroach Cluster, something the trio always thought to be quite disgusting. "That's so gross Ron!"

He grinned and chuckled. "A deal is a deal Hermione," he smiled. "Drinks are on you."

Hermione sighed but nodded. "Alright, let's go to the Three Broomsticks."

The trio paid for their sweets and left the shop contented, having consumed their sugar intake for a year or two. At the Three Broomsticks, Hermione ordered and paid for three butterbeers, and they made their way to a cozy booth in the corner. Harry and Ron sat on one side while Hermione took the other. Cho Chang walked by and glanced quickly at Harry.

Ron and Hermione gave him a look, but Harry was completely oblivious to the stare Cho had given him.

"So Harry," Hermione said. "How are things with you and Cho?"

"Fine," he replied.

"Nothing's going on? No renewal of affections?" she prodded.

"No," he told her truthfully, looking surprised. "Why?"

"Just wondered," she said.

They continued to talk about this and that when to Hermione's joy, Viktor Krum came over. She scooted over for him to sit down and drape an arm around her, making her feel protected. She caught Ron's eyes flash, but when she turned to look at him properly, it was gone.

"So," Harry said, glancing nervously at Ron. The atmosphere became awkward, none of them knowing what to say. No matter how young he was, he was now the professor…a famous professor besides. "How is our class doing?"

"Very vell," Krum slowly smiled and nodded. "The best yet! Actually Harry, you are thee top student, followed close by Hermione."

Hermione laughed and declared, “Well I have to let Harry beat me at something!"

"Let me?" Harry challenged. "Yeah, in your dreams, Granger!"

They laughed, and she caught her breath when Krum kissed the top of her head. She giggled, but noticed one person not joining in the fun.

"What's up Ron?" she asked.

He shook his head and said, "I'm just hot. Suppose we go outside for a walk?"

So they got up and went outside to the snow-covered village and walked to a lonely spot away from everyone and talked and laughed and carried on. When the talk died down, everyone wondered what to do next. As if reading their minds, Hermione took some wet snow into her mitten and formed a perfectly round ball. She aimed it in Harry's direction and threw, the fat snowball hitting him in the back. He turned around, his emerald eyes shining.

"You'll get it, Granger!"

She squealed as she dodged Harry's snowball and stuck out her tongue at him, only to get hit by Ron's perfectly thrown snowball. It was war!

They all took battle stations and waged a cold and rather wet war; every man for himself. Even though she could dodge almost all of Harry’s and Viktor's snow bombs, she was losing terribly to Ron, who had a perfect aim, but she never caught where he had made his fort. She ran from the pine tree that was protecting her and ran to a nearby bush to take cover, taking Viktor's snowball in the neck and freezing cold snow slipped down her back. She was almost safely to the bush when she collided with an unsuspecting Ron who had occupied the spot. She lost her balance and fell backwards. Frantically, she reached out to break her fall, grabbing Ron around the waist and dragging him down with her.