Part 10 - I'm not Listening

A blood-curdling scream filled the air along with a howling of a dog.

A small house in the middle of the forest stood out like a light in the dark, its wooden roof alight with a billowing fire.
Smashing of windows, shouting of spells and counter spells took up the majority of the sound that hung in the smoky black air.

A woman was slowly being torn apart, both physically and emotionally, through spells and the gnawing and tearing of sharp bloody teeth; a mangled wreck being the only thing left under a pair of two brown eyes that shone in the fires light.

Another scream erupted along with shouts and commands.
Soon, a path was being torn in the forest, one very small which twisted and turned in many directions only to be followed closely after a trail much like Hansel and Gretel’s, except the bread crumbs were missing and were replaced by blood

“No!” Hermione screamed, finally opening her eyes late one night a week later.
She shuddered, clutching her pillow tightly, gripping hard with one hand as she sobbed into it. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed. “I’m so sorry.”

Her body shook uncontrollably.
With a kick of her legs, she pushed the sheets off and stumbled through the dark until she got her slippers on and headed down stairs where she slipped the blanket off the back of the lounge and hung it around her shoulders. She then walked over to the entrance of the common, slipping out quietly. 

Reaching down her top, she pulled out her time turner - the clock reading three in the morning, meaning no Prefects or teachers would be patrolling.
Hermione stopped outside the portrait and looked at the stairs either to go up or down.
Soon, she felt herself drifting awkwardly upwards, not knowing where to venture.

Her steps were quiet and stealthy as she watched as the portraits slept or for any passing ghost.

She had so much on her mind. Yesterday, both she and Draco were told that the Death Eaters who had escaped had their first murder, and it was Professor Sprout’s sister, which urged the Professor to leave.
It wasn’t riddled all over the Daily Prophet because Dumbledore made it so, but he did say it was getting worrisome and Aurors and teachers were all very cautious, which meant the whole school was being very cautious, even if the students didn’t know.
Hermione hadn’t been at breakfast for the past week and she hardly went to dinner since she was subjected to look through stuff for the school.

Yesterday, she had another meeting with Draco for singing and, like the day before, it went all right, but she found herself feeling weird around the blonde haired Slytherin.

Hermione touched her brow. She didn’t know what it was, but she knew she was starting to feel a bit of affection towards him, and she didn’t want to be feeling that.
To make matters worse, Pansy was constantly around now, if Hermione wanted to talk to him like she sometimes did before the incident in the Music rooms, he made up an excuse to go away, and she usually found him being around Pansy.

Hermione didn’t want to be jealous - she couldn’t be jealous because nothing was to happen of any feelings on her part - she wanted Ron still, but then somewhere in her mind she found herself warming up to Draco.

On top of it all, the reoccurring haunting dreams that plagued her mind would not go away, and she found herself having her second one just then.

“One matter at a time, Hermione,” she whispered to herself, wiping her face of dried tears that stood dormant on her face now.
She had to battle each problem one at a time and she would start from the beginning.

Stopping outside the Fat Lady’s portrait, she cleared her throat.
“Excuse me,” she said quietly, tapping the portrait.
With a small scream, the Fat Lady awoke. “My dear, you scared the paint right out of me, what are you doing here so late?” she hissed.
Hermione sniffed and rubbed her running nose. “I’m a Head, I just need to get into the Gryffindor Common room, my business is my own,” she stated.

The Fat Lady growled, “Ok, no need for password, I recognise you, Miss Granger, get in.” She swung forward for Hermione to crawl through.

Warmth took Hermione straight away and she felt a feeling of extreme comfort lay upon her and she dropped the blanket away, letting it hit the ground with a small hiss of it compacting.
“Mate did you ‘ear that?” a familiar voice said.
Hermione smiled to herself. Ron’s voice, she was glad, it would mean Harry was there too, both probably completing lost homework.
“Um, I was asleep sorry, so, no.”

Hermione smiled, Harry had a tendency to fall asleep easily.
She then stepped from behind the corner. “Ron, it’s just me.”
With two girly screams, Harry and Ron flushed red in embarrassment as they realised Hermione had stepped out and returned to the Gryffindor Common.

“’Mione,” Ron sighed, letting his shoulders droop. He then perked up and flew out of his seat grabbing her shoulders lightly. “What the hell is wrong?” he asked frantically.
“Are you ok?”
“Did Malfoy do anything?”
“Ron!” Hermione cried loudly, silencing herself, Ron then retreated slightly dropping his head.
“Sorry, I was just wondering why you were here,” he muttered.
“Can’t I come over any more to talk to my best friends?” she sighed and dropped her head placing her hand against her forehead walking past him over to Harry who was sitting on the same crimson couch she shared many a secrets with them both.

She plopped down next to Harry and lay back closing her eyes.
She then felt the lounge lean in a little as Ron sat beside her, reaching to grab her hand, squeezing it tightly. “You ok, ‘Mione?” he asked.
Hermione opened her eyes and leaned over placing herself against Ron’s chest, still holding his hand.

Ron gripped his arms around her, flushing bright red in the face but still keeping her secure, stroking her arm reassuringly every so often.

Hermione then looked over at Harry then felt along Ron.
“I have something to tell you guys, something no one else knows except for the teachers and people high up in the Ministry, and I think you’re in trouble Harry.”

The night was spent with Hermione spilling everything that she knew about the situation, every small detail she had kept from them she revealed, except for the part with herself and Draco and the lessons, that wasn’t needed at this time.

“Professor Sprout’s sister,” Ron breathed, with his arms draped over Hermione on the lounge. “I heard that was her only family,” he went on and Hermione nodded.
“It was,” she answered, “Dumbledore told us, it was necessary that we knew.”

She then glanced over at Harry, who was silent on the other side of the lounge, legs pulled up against his chest as he sat in very deep thought. His fingers played with his glasses as he held them loosely, bouncing them lightly while looking at a blank space.
“What are you thinking, Harry?” Hermione asked.

Harry glanced up briefly then dropped his gaze. “Just wondering what Sirius would do,” he muttered and Hermione glanced up at Ron after feeling a twinge of pain run through her chest. “I just wish he was here,” Harry went on, “Him or Dad, someone,” he muttered.
“You still have us, mate,” Ron said quietly and Harry nodded solemnly shrugging slightly.
Hermione sighed. “Still not the same,” she said quietly and Harry nodded.

Moving out of Ron’s grip, Hermione sunk to the ground and crawled over, taking Harry’s glasses out of his fidgeting hands which we starting to turn white as he gripped harder. Hermione didn’t know what was bringing on Harry’s sudden reflection or mood, but then she hadn’t talked to him in a deep manner for a few weeks, but it was deeply worrying her, Ron too, as she could see concern flooded his freckled face.

“Harry,” she took his hands in her grip and held them softly, “We’re here for you, I know it’s not the same, but…” she trailed off, rubbing his hand softly.
Harry sniffed, “Are you sure of that?”
Hermione glanced at Ron who looked puzzled.
“What are you talking about, Harry?”
Harry looked up at Hermione. “You, will you be there?” he asked.
Hermione’s face blanked. “Wha’, Harry, I don’t understand,” she rambled quickly.
“Hermione,” Harry started looking at her, “You’ve hardly spoken to me and Ron for two weeks, you’re always in your common room with Malfoy or doing ‘duties’, yeah you talk to us still but what about our adventures, you never come out with us anymore, are we not important enough for you now?” He growled, staring at her intently with his shining emerald eyes. “I thought if you would have cared you would have noticed by now, the part missing in your weeks, the two boys you’ve spent half of your life with, fighting all manner of things but then still being together,” Harry spat and Hermione sat shocked, feeling tears fill up her eyes.

She had felt the empty spot.

“Mate. . . “ Ron warned, “She’s here.”
“No, Ron, I want to say this,” Harry growled. “I know you’ve come here and told us everything now Hermione, but what made you wait, huh?” he urged, “What, because we’re not a Head, or someone important, we don’t deserve to know?” Harry went on throwing his arms up.
Hermione inhaled a rough breath then glanced at Ron.
“Don’t look at Ron,” Harry snapped, “Look at me, Hermione, Ron thinks exactly the same thing, he told me.”
Hermione eyes dropped from Ron to the ground then up the lounge to Harry’s green eyes.
“You guys are important to me,” she said, tears dripping.
“Then why did you keep things?” Harry asked. “I would have told you, Ron would have told you, yet you kept them from us. You’ve avoided us. What would happen if those Death Eaters just barged right into the grounds, Ron and I wouldn’t have any idea of what’s going on, we could get killed because we didn’t know the situation enough to prepare, I think we have the right to know, it is kind of about me.” He returned to a calm complexion. “Why?”

Silence and tension filled the room. “Harry,” Hermione let out, “It’s been killing me not seeing you guys, been separated from you two in different common rooms, being in different classes, being subjected to meeting every night with Malfoy, working with the school.” She lied slightly, “You don’t know what I’ve been going through.”
Harry shook his head. “You could come to us, we’re always here, you know too well I’ll listen to anything you have to say Hermione, and I would tell you anything I had heard, even if Dumbledore himself told me not to,” he spat, “But right here, now, Hermione, I’m not listening.”


Lethargic with no sleep and her quarrel last night with Harry didn’t help the next day as once again, like all the dreaded days of the week, she was in Delarmour’s classroom, put to singing until her throat was dry as a bone, and put to exercise until her muscles felt like they were going to tear.

She was very weak today after all the crying and deep thinking she put herself to after she left the common room. She didn’t sleep the rest of the night. Things she wanted to make better just got oh so worse.

She sat herself against the wall, holding her legs close to her chest as Delarmour spoke. “Now, I know holidays are coming up soon,” a small sound of long exaggerated ‘yes’s’ erupted from the students and she pursed her lips, “But, I would ask you to start learning lyrics now and over the holidays. It’s not hard, read over a few songs every night and you should easily catch on, and when we come back, we’ll start putting everything together.”

Mutters came from the class, but Hermione stayed silent, glancing around the class every so often holding herself close together.
Delarmour at the front of the class then looked at the golden watch which hung around her delicate wrist. “We only have five minutes left, you all can talk until the bell then you can leave,” she informed the class then took off.

The class started chatting straight away, but Hermione stayed silent, sitting by herself against the wall since Ron was over near Harry, though he would shoot her sympathetic smile every so often when Harry wasn’t looking. Hermione would brush them off, looking away, trying to act unaffected by her loneliness. She didn’t know why; she just didn’t want to appear weak.

It was then Lavender Brown slid across the floor over to Hermione. “Hello, Hermione,” she smiled brightly.
Hermione looked at her and gave a small smile. “Hey, Lavender.”
Lavender made herself comfortable in front of Hermione. “What are you doing these holidays?” she asked conversationally.
Hermione wondered then, what was she doing? She was most likely spending it at the Weasley’s with Harry and Ron, but by the way it was turning out now, she highly doubted it. So, she shrugged and improvised happiness and euphoria with the boys, catching on immediately that Lavender was doing dirty work, wanting to know if anything was wrong with the golden trio.

“I’m probably going to be spending it with Harry and Ron,” she replied sheepishly, looking at Lavender who seemed a bit disappointed in her answer.
“Oh, ok, nice,” she trailed off looking down then looked up. “A Hogsmeade weekend soon?” She asked and Hermione nodded straight away, and Lavender grinned. “Great,” she said, just as the bell then sounded loudly and she made quick goodbyes.

Hermione was the first out of the room, not even slipping her shoes on, but picking them up and walking off back to her common room to shower and change again. Her mood was borderline depression as she entered the common room stopping as she came to the lounge, and placing a hand over her eyes, suppressing the urge to cry.

Harry had hit her really deep, for the first fight they had really had, it was like all the years of not fighting, rolled into one, and the colossal force of his words just hit her like a tonne of bricks. He wasn’t listening to her, he thinks that she thinks that they don’t matter, that they aren’t worthy, that wasn’t it at all.

She just didn’t want to worry him and Ron, their last year was the most important, and she wanted them to do well, and this pressure of Death Eaters escaping would not do them no good. They weren’t in danger, and it’s not like Ron’s parents wouldn’t know, the whole Order knew, so Ron and Harry wouldn’t be able to do anything.

There were many times she was so, so close to yelling it out to him, spilling everything at them. But, then she remembered she didn’t want them worrying, they found this year hard enough as it was.

It just got to be too much in the end, and deaths were occurring and they had to know, it wasn’t like Hermione was denying them anything, she told them at the right time, at the right place and didn’t leave anything out.

But telling herself that she was justified in her bidding wasn’t enough, it wouldn’t stop Harry’s anger. 

Author's Notes: Wow, it's been a really long time, and I'm very sorry.
I've been having holidays, mind blocks, and Harry Potter fall outs, where I will be turned off it for a while. I'd like to say I'm back to it, but I can't be sure.
I've been doing my My Chemical Romance Slash for the time being which can be found here: Check it!

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