A/N Hey! It's Vick (hermioneclone12) again! Yay! There's only one chapter left after this, so hope you enjoy...this is the longest chapter of any story I have ever done....so, yay! lol
next chapter to come soon (hopefully on the 14th). Please review!
*_*~*_*~*_*~*_*~*_*~*_*~*_*~*_*~*_*~*_~*_*~*_*
Hermione woke again that next morning, feeling just as happy as she did the night before, if not more. She wondered if this would become a daily routine for her ‘Secret Admirer’, and hoped it would; she quite enjoyed these gifts and tender words, even if she still did not know from whom it came. After dressing, she headed down to the Gryffindor common room, and sat down in the chair in front of the fire. Today was a Friday, and she did have class, but she didn’t feel like going to breakfast; too much was on her mind.
She gazed into the fire, her mind set on the gifts, and sat entranced by the flames. She was jerked out of this trance when she received a small tap on the shoulder. She broke her gaze, and turned slowly around to look at whoever had disturbed her.
“Hermione, are you okay?” Ron asked with concern.
“What do you mean, am I okay?” Hermione asked, as she saw no reason as she shouldn’t be; she was incredibly happy.
“Well, it’s just that you had this weird look on your face, and I thought something was wrong."
Hermione replied with a simple, “Oh.” Hermione continued to sit in the chair, and Ron proceeded in standing, looking down upon her. After a long, awkward pause, Ron cleared his throat.
“So…are you going down to breakfast?” He asked, shuffling his feet.
Why did he act so brave one minute, then sheepishly the next? Hermione wondered, before answering him. It always seemed she knew the answer to everything, but things about Ron. In fact, it made her feel rather stupid not to know what to say, or think for that matter, about these things. “But what about Harry?”
“Oh, um…he said that he was tired, and was going to be down…soon.” Ron answered slowly, with long pauses. Hermione thought a moment, but decided to think nothing of it.
“Okay,” she answered, and then stood up. She wasn't quite sure if he was telling her the truth; it was hard to determine. She headed towards the Portrait, but suddenly, Ron said something.
“Uh, Hermione, can you head on down yourself for now? I forgot to get something…” Ron trailed off. Hermione nodded and turned before she had a chance to see which way he had gone.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Down at breakfast, Hermione took a seat about halfway down the table, where the small bit of Gryffindors who were at breakfast were sitting. They were one of the few who had woken up early enough to be at breakfast at the time, although students were slowly making their way into the Great Hall. She dreaded the look the Slytherins will have on their faces, because of their alterations to the sign, but she decided she’d just ignore; she had to eat, and they’d eventually find something else to torture her with.
She didn’t look at anything except her plate for a time, before looking up. For some odd reason, the Slytherins weren’t sneering and laughing, those who were up (Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Pansy, and a few others). She shifted her eyes to the sign hanging on the wall opposite her, and was shocked to find that it had changed again.
This time, it read, “Malfoy, the AMAZING Bouncing Ferret’ with a large picture of a sleek, white ferret bouncing across the bottom of the sign. Every so often, it would stop, and its head would be replaced with Malfoy's. The Malfoy ferret would turn his head and smile, and change back into a ferret head, returning to its bouncing.
A smile broke out across her face as she took her seat, and saw the look on Malfoy’s face; it looked as if he had just learned he had lost the whole Malfoy fortune. Hermione couldn’t see why he would look this way; after all, it was just a banner, he would most likely think of a comeback.
She studied the Great Hall more carefully, looking for something she may have missed. She scanned the teacher’s table, and all were there except for - Snape! Where was he? She turned to Neville, who was seated next to her. “Neville, do you know where Professor Snape is? He's usually at the head table by now, but he's missing...” Neville turned to her, a broad smile on his face. He was laughing joyfully, tears in his eyes.
“He’s - he’s - he’s down in the dungeons. Cleaning up.” Hermione’s expression of confusion and interest made him continue, which he eagerly did. “Someone had jinxed large pictures of Snape and Draco all over the dungeon walls, with the picture showing both of them -” Neville burst out laughing. He clutched his side, and tried to catch his breath. “Someone jinxed the picture to show them snoggin’ their heads off.” Neville burst out in another fit of laughter, and fell off his chair. Hermione smiled and laughed hysterically. She knew she shouldn't; after all, she was a prefect and this sort of thing was unacceptable, but the fact that it happened to two people she disliked with every fiber of her being forced her to not think about it on such terms.
One thing stayed on her mind, however; who did it? Was it the same person who put up the banner? Was it her 'secret admirer'? No, she thought. There are around 1,000 students, anyone of them could have done it. But, Hermione couldn't help but think that it may be the same person; placing removable banners/posters on walls did seem to be his specialty. It seemed like too much of a coincidence to her.
She turned back to Neville once more. “Does anyone know who did it?” Neville turned around once again, still laughing his head off; it wasn’t everyday that your least favourite teacher and daily torturer was embarrassed beyond measure like this.
“Well, most people think it was whoever did the sign,” Neville said, with a different smile; he looked at her in a different way. Hermione felt a bit relieved that she wasn't the only one who saw the similarity between the handywork, and that she wasn't just getting her hopes up that it was the same person. As soon as Neville's smile had come, though, the strange look and smile had vanished.
Hermione thought this weird, but Neville didn’t seem the type to be her secret admirer and do these things. He didn't seem to have enough courage, even though he was in Gryffindor, to do this type of thing, Hermione thought, especially something as big as this. Neville turned back around, and continued to laugh heartily, retelling the look on Snape’s face when he saw the pictures.
Hermione sat in her chair, not touching any of the toast, marmalade, butter, jam, pumpkin juice, or any other of the food items in front of her. It’s about time Snape and Malfoy got a taste of their own medicine, Hermione thought bitterly, remembering all the times that Snape acted unfairly and unjust, and the times Malfoy was a git and called her names and picked on her.
She watched around the Great Hall, and her eyes shifted to the entrance; Harry and Ron had finally entered, and she watched amusedly as their gaze went to her, they smiled, and then looked up to find the sign. Harry looked pure delighted; Ron, well, Hermione couldn’t quite decide what he looked like, although he did smile when Harry looked at him, laughing.
They walked over to her and took seats across the table from her, their backs to the sign. “It‘s about time he got what he deserved, but I was hoping I‘d be the one to do it.” Harry said, laughing.
Hermione broke out into another smile. “Harry, you know that whoever did this has no right to do this; they could get into serious trouble, and this must be against the rules!" she said But, when she found she was unable to be contained to her usual rule-abiding self on this matter, she said, "But, that’s not all, Harry. Someone put a bunch of posters up all over the dungeon.”
Harry looked at her for a moment, his smile wavering slightly due to puzzlement, and so Hermione continued. “Whoever did it bewitched two pictures of Draco and Snape to...snog.” Harry barked even louder in laughter, clutching his side as Neville did.
“Who - did - that?” Harry managed through gasps of laughter.
“Neville told me that most think it was whoever put up the banner,” Hermione replied, nodding towards the banner behind them. She blushed a little, and continued. "But, even though I think that Snape and Malfoy both deserved it, it still must be against the rules."
Harry gave her a look as if to say, 'are you crazy?' and Ron looked slightly put-out. Hermione wasn't quite sure why he looked like that, and though that it may be perhaps that he, as usual, was thinking she was crazy for being so rule-abiding.
Harry stood up, “I’m going down to see it before Charms, Ron, you coming?”
"Be careful, Harry! You don't want Snape to catch you!"
Harry nodded at Hermione, and looked back at Ron.
Ron sat blankly for a moment, blinked, looked up, and said, “Yeah, in a minute mate.” Harry nodded and turned on his heel, bounding out of the Great Hall.
Hermione looked at Ron for a moment, and asked, “What’s wrong? You’re unusually…quiet today. You’re not even eating!”
Ron looked at her, and said, “It’s nothing. Just…anxious, is all.”
“For what?” Hermione asked, leaning in closer.
“For Sunday.”
“Sunday?” Hermione thought aloud, racking her brain. What was on Sunday? “Oh, Valentine’s day. Why are you anxious about that? You never were before.” Why on Earth would he be anxious for that? It comes and goes every year, but I never saw him pay it any mind before...Most likely, he has something planned, she thought with a slight frown.
Ron hesitated a moment, but then said, “I’m anxious because I plan on asking someone out. I don’t know what she’ll say.” His ears went pink and he stared determinedly at the bread pudding in front of him. Hermione’s heart sank. He was already planning on asking someone out, he already liked someone else.
How could I have been so...stupid? she thought. Ron doesn’t like me, he likes someone else. I assumed that he did, but he doesn't...I knew I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up, but I couldn't help myself...
Hermione felt her eyes sting and knew she was on the verge of tears. She knew that she shouldn't got her hopes up, as she thought over and over, and that it wasn't something like a test, and that you could assume you got a good grade. People aren't tests, and you can win them over by assuming that you are.
Ron could see it to, because a look of concern washed over his face as he studied Hermione. “Hermione, wha-” he began, but was cut off by her.
“I've...I've got to go to the library...for...the Potion's essay...,” she said, and stood up and walked toward the door as fast as she could without attracting too much attention. He liked someone else. Now she knew for sure that whoever it was that was sending her the amazing gifts that she had come to enjoy receiving every day, were not from him.
"But you already finished it!"
***
She swept through the Fat Lady’s portrait after saying the password, (cupid's arrow) and sat in the chair in front of the fire. She gazed once again into the flames, flickering, as if dancing, in the fireplace. Hermione willed herself not to cry - she wouldn’t, not this time.
She tried to calm herself by thinking that, if it wasn’t Ron, she still had the joy of figuring out who it was, and possibly finding him as funny, cute, sweet, and adorable as she found Ron. That maybe he was somebody that she could like back, as well. Yes she thought I won't dwell on it, I'll just concentrate on who it is, not who I want it to be. Distract myself.
Then, a thought crossed her mind. What if someone was doing all this as some cruel joke? What if it was some scheme cooked up just to play with her emotions? She tried to shake the idea, but it was the sort that once thought of, was hard to get rid of.
She tried to think of something else - the Transfiguration test the next day, or - wait. “I’m late for class!” Hermione said aloud to herself, realizing it had only been breakfast and she still had a full day’s lessons. Breakfast was bound to be over by now, and she knew the lesson must have already started.
She bounded up the steps to the girls’ dormitory, retrieved the things she would need for class, and raced to the classroom. She opened the door, and snuck to her seat. She looked up at Professor McGonagall, who had her back turned. McGonagall turned stiffly around and set a cross gaze on Hermione.
“I would appreciate if you were not late for class, Miss Granger. And please refrain from sneaking in when you are late. 5 points from Gryffindor.” She turned back around on her heel to the chalkboard and continued to explain the diagram on how to transfigure a flamingo into a chess board.
Hermione sighed and took a seat, next to Harry, away from Ron. Her mind wandered back to the thought she had before realising she was late, and forced herself not to believe it. No one is that cruel, except for the Slytherins, and this sort of trick doesn't seem the type they'd pull. Whoever is sending me the gifts likes me, and aren't tricking me. she thoght, determined not to believe otherwise.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Hermione lay exhausted in her bed from another day of rigorous class work. She had avoided Ron at all costs; she sat on the opposite side of the room during classes she had with him, and sat with Ginny and other 5th year Gryffindors during lunch. She turned on her side, and tried not to think of the sinking feeling she felt, and the great flop she felt from her heart. Why didn’t he like her? Who was the girl that he did like? This train of thought followed her into a deep sleep.
That night, she dreamt a strange dream. She was in Hogwarts, but where, she couldn’t tell. She was peering around a corner at someone with flaming red hair - Ron. He was sitting at a small elegant table, adorned with a beautiful lace table cover, candles in wire holders, and a small, velvety box. She watched as he wrung his hands nervously, darting his eyes around every so often, as if he was looking for someone - or waiting.
Hermione saw something in the corner of her eye move, and saw Gryffindor robes sweep past her. It was a girl - she could tell by the shoes, and she was walking at a slow pace, as if somehow lost and couldn’t find her way. Hermione looked up at the girl, now to her left, and saw small dainty hands poking out of the sleeves of the robes, and bushy brown hair. The girl nervously rounded the corner in which Ron was waiting at the small table, and Hermione strained to see her face.
Still, the girl’s bushy brown hair was in the way. She was familiar, yet Hermione knew she hadn’t met her before, she was sure of it. She walked behind the girl, sticking close to the wall, so as to not be seen, and watched as she opened a door that had suddenly appeared, blocking Ron from view. The door opened, and Hermione swore she heard the girl’s heart leap, and saw Ron’s broad, yet nervous, smile on his face as he stood up from the table.
He approached the girl, and stood about two feet away from her. He talked to her, saying something, but Hermione couldn’t hear anything - it was like he wasn’t talking at all, that he was just moving his lips soundlessly. He stopped talking, and the girl started to. Still, Hermione couldn’t here. She moved a step closer, and strained her ears. She watched as they continued to converse for what seemed like an eternity, and they continually got inch by inch closer.
A smile played across Ron’s lips again. He took the final step toward the girl, and put his head forward - he kissed her. They held for a moment, and he pulled back, an even broader grin than the last.
He took her hand in his, and lead her over to the small table. Before she sat down, he hastily stuffed the small box in his pocket, as if he didn’t want the girl to see it, and took his seat after her. Hermione felt herself waking up, and the scene before her slowly faded away.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Hermione woke up, and confusion overcame her. Who was that girl? Was this the girl Ron spoke of? What was in the little velvet box? Who was that girl? The first two questions, Hermione was sure she knew the answer to: it was the girl, and the velvet box contained some kind of jewelry, probably a ring or earrings, by the size.
Hermione swung her legs over the side of the bed, and they hit something. She looked down, and saw another package. She bent over the bed, and picked them up, a smile on her face and the dream pushed away, temporarily forgotten.
Inside, was another set of letters, and a gift. This time, the gift was a book of love poems, and a drawing of what looked to be her. It was actually quite good, and she knew that whoever this ‘mystery man’ was, was an artist.
The first paper was another love ‘note’.
I don’t know how I ever lived without you, my love.
She smiled even more, and looked up to make sure no one else in the dorm was awake and watching. She opened the second letter, which turned out to be another clue.
I thought I was no match for Krum, 2 years ago in our fourth year. I was still even jealous about those long letters you write - can you ever forgive me?
“Of course I’ll forgive you,” Hermione whispered to herself, knowing that no one would answer her. So, now, she knew it was a Gryffindor boy, and that he was jealous of her and Krum. That does narrow it down a bit, but there were still a lot of boys jealous of me and Krum, she though, straining to remember all the Gryffindor boys who had shown signs of jealousy.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Hermione went through another day of avoiding Ron. All day, she barely bothered with notes, and instead thought more about the hint. By keeping her mind on this subject, she could easily forget about the hurt she felt when it came to Ron's 'mystery girl'.
Who could it be? It was starting to agitate her a bit, not knowing, and not being able to guess who. She knewe if she used reason, observed things, and thought logically, she could easily figure it out, but emotions got in the way; the happiness she had an admirer, the joy of being like (or loved), and the thrill of meeting this person.
Just before going to bed Hermione put out the light of her wand and fell asleep with the previous night’s dream in mind, hoping to have the same dream, but get to see the girl.
However, Hermione slept a dreamless night that night; she was so mentally exhausted, how could she dream anything?