Awakenings (part 1)



AWAKENINGS
A Fanfic by Meg Kelley (I know it says my name is Arabella - I'm having trouble 
with my Meg Kelley account, so I just created a new one.)

DISCLAIMER: NONE OF THESE CHARACTERS BELONG TO ME, THEY'RE ALL J.K. ROWLING'S. 
THIS IS JUST A BIT OF FUN. THANKS!


After one of his more particularly grueling practice sessions, Harry climbed 
through the portrait hole carrying his Firebolt, threw his muddy sweatshirt on a 
chair, and made a move toward the boys' staircase. 

"I wouldn't, if I were you," came an amused, but warning voice from the window. 
Harry looked up, surprised. Seamus was sitting there, working through a heap of 
their holiday assignments. Usually, at this point in the Easter week, Seamus 
began to lose his grip. But today he looked positively cheerful. He spoke again. 
"Like I said, Harry," he grinned. "I wouldn't." 

"Why not?"

"Hermione Granger's up there."

Harry's facial expression shifted from surprise to shock. Hermione had been 
known to come into the boys' dormitory on one occasion only- Christmas morning 
of their second year- when the Gryffindor house had been almost entirely 
deserted. What was she doing up there on a regular Thursday afternoon, when 
practically the whole house was sitting around? 

"Why?" was all Harry could think of to say. 

Neville looked up from his Potions essay. "She got in a row with Ron. A bad one. 
And he tore up there, and she.... went on after him." He gulped. "She looked fit 
to kill."

"She'd be right to!" said Ginny hotly, suddenly whirling from her place before 
the fire. "He was on her again about Krum, and it¹s really getting old! Why 
don't you ever DO anything about it, Harry?" 

Harry had never seen Ginny quite so volatile. "What am I supposed to do?" he 
asked. "I've told him to shut up about Krum a hundred times."

"Well," snapped Ginny, "try again." And she turned back to her work with a 
humph. Harry turned to Seamus, open-mouthed.

"It wasn't good," continued Seamus, grinning. "You should have heard them. Cats 
and dogs those two."

"Always have been," said Parvati wisely, shutting her Divination journal and 
giving Lavender a superior nod. "Always will be." 

Lavender giggled. "WE know what it's all about, though," she said 
conspiratorially, looking delightedly from Parvati to Harry. "It's so OBvious, 
isn't it? It's-"

"None of your business!" finished Ginny, whirling again. "Is it, Lavender? How 
would you like it if I said that you and Sea-"

"Never mind, Harry!" squeaked Lavender in a hurry, narrowing her eyes at Ginny. 
"Just never mind!"

"Good." Ginny moved her eyes from Lavender to Harry, and he felt himself grow 
rather hot under the scrutiny of her gaze, which did not waver. 

"What?!" he finally exploded. "I'm s'posed to go and do something, then?" Ginny 
nodded, her face set. "Unless you think I should go up into the boys' dorms, 
too," she said, a touch of humor in her voice. Harry looked at her quickly. 
Somehow, according to the expression on her face, he thought she might go ahead 
and do it, and for some vague reason, he didn't want her in their dormitory. 
"Fine," he muttered presently. "I'll go tell Hermione to come down."

"And then tell Ron to stop bothering her," Ginny insisted. "He hasn't any right 
to say what he does about Viktor. It's embarrassing for her, Harry. She has 
every right to be-- to be dating, if she likes somebody." Ginny looked away 
finally, slightly flustered. "Anyway," she said quickly, "Ron's only upset about 
Viktor and Hermione because he wishes-" But there, she cut herself short and 
blushed. "Well," she said shortly. 

Harry couldn't help but grin, both at Ginny's confusion, and at what she had 
been about to say. He had a pretty good idea why Ron wouldn't leave Hermione 
alone about Viktor Krum. "Yeah," he returned. "Well." Ginny blushed even harder, 
and turned back around in her chair. 

Lavender and Parvati looked positively triumphant. 

"Go on then Harry," Seamus said from the window, his eyebrow raised in 
Lavender¹s direction. "Come down and give us all the details. We'll want to know 
if they've managed to strangle each other."

"Honestly," whispered Ginny, without turning around again. 

Harry shrugged at Seamus and Neville and flicked his eyes back over toward Ginny 
once, but she avoided looking back at him, so he turned and took the stairs up 
to his dormitory two at a time. He imagined he'd be walking into quite a pretty 
scene. They were bound to be pulling each other's hair out by this time. But 
five years' experience with Ron and Hermione's fights gave him confidence that 
he'd have them off one another in a moment. It couldn't be any worse than usual. 


He crossed the hall to the door marked 'Fifth Years' and would have walked 
straight inside, but what he saw within was so unexpected that he spun 
counter-clockwise, and stayed without. 

Ron and Hermione were standing, a body's length apart, pointing their wands 
directly at one another. Both their faces, Harry had seen in an instant, wore 
deadly determination. He crept his body along the wall until he could see them 
through the crack in the door, and felt panic rise up in his throat at their 
expressions. This didn't look like a joke. He had never seen two Gryffindors 
pointing wands at one another, except in Lockhart¹s dueling club, second year-- 
and he'd certainly never seen his own friends threatening one another with 
magic. Harry felt for his own wand underneath his Quidditch T-shirt - he'd had a 
habit of keeping it there ever since his third year - pulled it out, and held it 
before him at the ready, just in case. 

"I'm serious, Ron." Hermione's voice was steel. Clearly, this was the middle, or 
perhaps the end of the conversation. "One more word about him, and I'll snap. 
I'm THIS close." She held up her free hand, keeping her thumb and index finger a 
fraction apart. "Just stop it. Right in front of everybody-- do you KNOW how 
embarrassing that is for me?" Her voice wavered, but she caught it up again and 
continued. "Don't you EVER say another word about him and me."

"Him and you," hissed Ron, clenching his wand even more tightly. "I've had quite 
enough of him and you. You say you're embarrassed-- well, you should be. Lording 
it over everybody all year-"

"Lording---!!"

"Oh, don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about." Ron put on a fake, 
high voice. "Bulgaria was just AMAzing, Viktor taught me SO much, I've never had 
such a nice HOLiday!" Ron narrowed his eyes. "Sickening."

"Shut up!" Hermione's eyes flashed dangerously. "Shut up! That's exactly what I 
mean! All year, in front of everybody-- in the halls, at meals, in class, in 
front of our teachers-- what do you care whether or not I liked Bulgaria? What 
do you CARE?!" With a sharp snap, Hermione flicked her wrist and sparks shot out 
of her wand, just missing Ron. He jumped, and outside the door, so did Harry. 

"Go ahead!" shouted Ron recklessly, "Shoot your worst! Can¹t be worse than 
listening to you go on and on about Vicky, the great stupid-"

"He's incredibly intelligent-"

Ron switched back to the high voice and mocked her, "He's incredibly 
intelligent!"

"Shut UP!" Hermione cried, her voice cracking. "Stop it!"

"YOU stop it!" bellowed Ron. "I don't want to hear one more word about your 
bloody boyfriend!" The last word was a low snarl. "Makes me want to-- you should 
never-"

"What, Ron? I should never what?" Hermione hollered back, tears edging into her 
voice. "Tell me! Whatever it is that's making you like this, just tell me!"

"LIKE YOU DON'T KNOW!"

"I DON'T!" Hermione was now extremely close to tears, and her voice lost some of 
its bite as her shoulders began to slump. "All I know is, I'm so tired of you 
making fun of me that I.... I..... Ron, please," she implored. "Please-you've 
just got to stop it. You're taking something out on me that isn't my fault." 

Ron glared at her fiercely but said nothing. 

"Just TELL me what it is," Hermione entreated. Still, Ron was silent, eyeing her 
narrowly. 

Hermione waited another moment for an answer, but none came. Harry, who rather 
thought he knew why Ron was behaving so unkindly, had to hold himself back in 
the tense silence, from shouting, "Say it!" But he bit his tongue and watched as 
a defeated Hermione dropped her wand arm to her side, looking suddenly tired. 
"Okay," she said quietly. "That's all I can do, then, isn't it." 

But a second later, as though making one last appeal, she looked up at Ron 
swiftly and all the heat was back in her voice. "Tell me," she said again. 
"Please, Ron. Whatever it is, really, whatever, even if it's...." she blushed a 
little, and looked at her feet. Harry raised his eyebrows. Hermione, it seemed, 
knew what the matter was with Ron. "You can tell me, I swear," she finished, 
stepping a foot closer to him. 

But again Ron said nothing, nor would he meet her eyes, and Harry could see that 
Hermione's tears were now threatening to fall. In an effort to hide this, she 
turned quickly, tucked her wand hastily inside her robe, and brushed her fingers 
under her eyes as she strode toward the door.

Now did Ron speak-- so abruptly that he startled Harry, Hermione, and himself. 
"No. YOU tell ME. You TELL me what you really feel about Krum."

Hermione turned back slightly and gaped. "What--?"

"Is this all-you know-serious-with you and him?" Ron continued, in the same 
quick, low voice. "Just tell me, and get it over with. Go on."

Hermione was too much taken aback by this sudden, intimate interest in her love 
life to form a response, and now that Ron had finally begun to speak, he had 
grown too impatient to wait for her answer. He threw his wand behind him on the 
bed suddenly, stepped forward and grabbed Hermione's hands. If her face had held 
surprise before, now it held utter disbelief. "Ron," she began slowly, looking 
at her hands in his, "I don't under-"

"Because if you really like him-" Ron winced, as though this small group of 
words had caused him some physical pain-"then.... then I'll back off. But if you 
don't...."

Hermione blinked. "Yes?" she whispered. "If I....if I don't...?"

Harry held his breath and waited. This was a rather spectacular moment, and 
though he half-way knew he shouldn't listen, he felt an incredible curiosity to 
know who would say what. The tension was palpable and he shifted edgily from one 
foot to the other.

"Well, if you don't, then..." Ron trailed off. He looked like he was trying to 
work up the nerve for something. His face was slightly drawn, and very nervous. 
He was quiet.

"Then?" Hermione's voice came up a notch in volume. "Well?" Ron seemed stuck in 
his unease, and Hermione let out a sigh. "Either come out with it right NOW, 
Ron" she said finally, "or don't. But either way, you've got to stop being so 
mean to me all the ti-"

But Hermione didn't get to finish her ultimatum. Ron had made up his mind. Harry 
watched his friend's face change from nervous indecision to gritty 
determination, and in a flash of long arms, Ron had grabbed Hermione and pressed 
her mouth with a swift, unmistakable kiss. 

Harry had to stick his fist in his mouth to keep from yelling at this tremendous 
event. He looked rapidly both ways down the hall to make sure no one was coming, 
then turned back, glued, to the scene beyond the crack in the door. Ron had 
released Hermione and was standing back from her, waiting to see what she would 
do, looking rather wild. 

Hermione, for her part, was absolutely stunned. When Ron let her go, she swayed 
on the spot. Her mouth was partly open, and she put her fingers to it, as if 
testing to see if what had happened was real. "Oh...." she breathed. "Ron...." 
And then she flung herself forward and kissed him in the same impetuous manner. 

When she drew away, Ron let out a sort of breathless laugh. "Hermione!" he 
managed. They both stood there a moment, breathing rather strangely, and then, 
in an instant, Hermione had turned and fled the room, barely avoiding smacking 
into Harry on her way down the hall, looking flushed and beaming and frightened. 
Thankfully for him, she was far too caught up in her own thoughts to ask him if 
he'd seen or heard anything. She ran down the boys' staircase and out of sight. 

Harry listened a moment, heard the sound of voices in the common room- Parvati's 
instant questioning, Lavender's giggle..... then a low murmur from Ginny that 
sounded like, "Everybody just hush. We're going up-- leave us alone."

Harry shook his head slightly, to clear the thoughts that were whirling about in 
it, and then faced his doorway. Ron had just thrown himself down on his bed in 
there with his eyes shut, an expression of shock on his face. Ron had just 
kissed Hermione. Right on the mouth. Harry felt a wave of shock pass over him as 
well, but he shook it off. He wanted to see just how much Ron would tell him, 
without his having to ask. Resolutely, he stuck his wand back under his T-shirt, 
assumed an expression of innocence, and entered their dormitory. 

"Hey," he said casually. "What's up?" 

Ron kept his eyes shut and didn't move. Harry paused, wondering how he could 
approach the subject of what he had just seen, without revealing he had seen it. 
"You asleep, or what?" he said loudly. 

Ron opened his eyes and stared at the canopy above him. "Awake," he said. 

Harry considered, then said, "Er-was Hermione in here? I saw her in our hall."

Ron turned his face away. "Yeah, she was in here," he barely muttered. 

"How come?" Harry asked, desperately hoping this still sounded offhand. "What 
was she doing in the boys' dorms?"

Ron was still. Harry became impatient, but strove to keep the edges out of his 
voice. "You going to answer me?" he said, in what he hoped was a normal, 
indifferent tone of voice. "Did something happen?" 

Ron laughed. "I'll say," he said under his breath. But Harry caught it. "What 
then?" he said, a little too quickly. But Ron didn't seem to notice. He rolled 
over and sat up suddenly, facing Harry, his hands clenching the bedcovers. 

"I don't know how to tell you this, Harry..." he said slowly. Harry held his 
breath. "...but I....well, Hermione.... we were fighting... she was getting 
upset...." Ron shook his head sharply, and it seemed to clear his mind. "I 
kissed her, Harry." 

"What.....Hermione?" said Harry slowly, trying to sound amazed. It wasn't 
difficult. After all, it was... Hermione. 

Ron laughed again, shortly. "Yeah. Can you believe... I reckon.... I reckon I 
LIKE her!"

"I guess!" snorted Harry, letting out a deep breath of relief. Ron had told him. 
He wouldn't have to pretend not to know. He wasn't being kept in the dark. It 
would be bad enough to have his two best friends going 'round kissing-but it 
would be far worse for him if they were secret about it. At least it wouldn't be 
uncomfortable between the three of them. Feeling suddenly very charitable, and 
really rather impressed with what Ron had managed to do, he fell flat on his own 
four poster, looked over at Ron, and grinned. "So...?" he said. 

Ron's ears turned an incredible shade of purple. "So?" he muttered. "What?"

"Did she..." Harry had to choke back a disbelieving laugh, for even though he 
knew the answer to the question he was about to ask, it was still pretty amazing 
to hear about it from Ron. "Did she- er- kiss you back, or anything?" Harry's 
mouth was twisted in a sort of lopsided, suppressed smile as he regarded his 
friend. Ron looked absolutely baffled.

"D'you know what, Harry?" he said, his eyes turned inward as though watching the 
scene again, "She... she did." He opened his eyes wide, and blinked hard, 
forcing himself to focus outward again. Face slightly bemused, he looked at 
Harry. "Reckon she likes me back," he mumbled, looking at his fingers, which he 
kept clenching and unclenching. 

"Guess so!" said Harry again. "She looked, er, pretty happy-you know, when I saw 
her in the hall."

"Did she?" asked Ron immediately, looking highly grateful for this news. "Oh, 
good. I mean, I'm glad... I mean..." Ron took a deep breath and blew it out, 
then suddenly looked petrified "What do I do now?" he moaned. "I haven't got the 
first bloody clue!"

"Me either," said Harry, grinning. "Maybe you should write her a poem," he 
suggested, in a not-at-all serious tone of voice.

Ron looked at him quickly, and grinned back before he could help it. "Oy, shut 
up, you," he retorted, throwing a pillow at Harry, who caught it easily and 
threw it back at Ron, who let it knock him backwards and cover his face. He lay 
there a moment and then in a muffled voice, Harry heard, "You know, Harry, you 
ought to give it a try. It's brilliant." 

Harry smirked. "What?" he said, "Kissing Hermione?" 

Ron shot up from under the pillow and gave Harry a look that told him not to try 
that joke again. "No," he said briefly, "Somebody else."

"Right," laughed Harry, rolling his eyes, shutting them, and settling back in 
his pillow with an image of one particular girl in his mind. "Cho?" He sighed 
derisively. "Forget it. We know that's not going to happen." 

"Somebody else then," repeated Ron, shrugging and falling back easily onto his 
pillow, as though now that he had done it, it was the easiest thing in the world 
to grab a girl up and kiss her. "There are a million girls at this school, I'm 
sure there has to be at least one other good one. Anyway, you've practically got 
a fan club." 

But with that comment, Ron sat up again suddenly, a thought seeming to occur to 
him. "Just stay away from my sister, right?" he said, crossing his arms and 
raising an eyebrow of mock-warning at Harry. His tone of voice was very light. 
But Harry knew Ron well enough to know that his friend was not entirely in jest.

Harry flinched imperceptibly, feeling somehow guilty. The moment Ron had said 
that, Harry's usual mental image of Cho Chang had been replaced without warning. 
Into his mind's eye had come, unbidden, a picture of Ginny Weasley, blushing 
stubbornly at him from her chair by the fire. He felt his heart give a funny 
jump, and he blinked his eyes in surprise. Ron was still looking at him, arms 
folded, awaiting a response. Harry felt at a loss, but didn't want to betray it. 
Instead, he forced a laugh. "Right, Ron," he said carelessly, waving a hand as 
if to dismiss such an idiotic idea. "I'll keep away from Ginny." Ron looked 
satisfied, and returned to his position on his back, staring up at his canopy, 
presumably musing about what to do next about Hermione, now that he had managed 
to kiss her.

Harry, on the other hand, was highly unsettled. Another memory of Ginny had just 
occurred to him - she was pale, and cold, barely alive, the way she had appeared 
underground in the Chamber of Secrets. The thought flashed across his mind- not 
for the first time- that Ginny Weasley was the only person he knew, aside from 
himself, who had faced Voldemort alone and come out of it alive. His heart gave 
another queer knock. 

Harry took off his glasses and shut his eyes, feeling a bit apprehensive of Ron. 
For suddenly, though the thought surprised him utterly, he wasn't entirely sure 
that he would stay away from Ginny Weasley after all. 




      Awakenings (part 2)



Many thanks to Minx for her ever-sharp proof-reading. Her eye for the fine 
detail of emotional exchanges never fails to amaze me. The story benefits 
greatly from it. The remaining bludners are, of course, of my own making :))
 
Awakenings.
 
Hermione lay looking up at the canopy above her bed. It was three o'clock in the 
morning and she couldn't sleep. No point fighting it, do something useful she 
decided. She hauled herself out of bed and slipped into a dressing gown and her 
favourite, warm, fluffy slippers. She was alone in the room. It was January and 
nearly the end of the Christmas holidays. As she often did, she had stayed at 
Hogwarts with Harry, Ron and Ginny. Soon there would again be five girls in 
here, but for now she relished the peace of having the room to herself.
She paddled over to a desk and sat down in front of her carefully arranged 
books. She had, of course, long since completed the assigned holiday work - why 
do they call it a holiday she wondered - and was now working on extra essays and 
research. She would present Muggles and the Occult to McGonagall at the start of 
term and see what she thought of it. Hermione felt it was a good piece of work, 
but she needed the reassurance of another to convince her.
After half-an-hour poring over Medieval Muggle Occult Practices, her eyes 
started to tire and her attention wandered - to a magazine lying on the floor, 
near the wall. BeWitch - one of Lavender's, had to be. Idle curiosity made her 
pick it up and scan the cover, incredulously. 'Wizard Wants - what Wizards 
really want from a Witch!' 'Transfiguration - the New You!' 'Charming! How to 
spot a slob!' Long on exclamation marks she noted. And lurid lip gloss. Why 
would any girl want to put herself out like that for a boy? She flushed slightly 
- it wasn't as if she didn't like boys, well the two she knew anyway, but she 
had no intention of pandering to them. Except on special occasions, maybe. If 
they don't like me the way I am, tough. And anyway they were her friends, not 
her boyfriends.
Yawning and sleepy now, she went back to her bed, carrying the magazine - just 
for background reading, she told herself. Then she stopped. And stared. How did 
the magazine get there? After Lavender and the rest had left for the holidays, 
she had tidied the room up. And she'd put all the stuff they'd left behind onto 
their desks. The magazine hadn't been on the floor earlier. Had it? It must have 
been. She sighed. It was late. A flick of her wand put the light out. She 
clambered into bed and slid down under the duvet. She kicked it up, wriggled her 
toes and let the duvet settle gently on her. It was a nice, warm, secure 
feeling. Stupid magazine. It must have been there. Her eyes closed and sleep 
crept up.
A tapping sound woke her. It was still dark, still not four o'clock. The tapping 
was coming from the door. It was slow, rhythmical and getting softer. She put 
the light on and listened, heart thumping, as the sound gradually died away. A 
scratching started, loud at first, then quieter. And then the iron ring that 
served as a door handle started to move, slowly, slowly. Somebody was trying to 
open the door. Her heart went into overdrive and she aimed her wand. The ring 
moved slowly forward and then … it inched equally slowly backwards. Then - 
nothing. She wanted to run to the door and fling it open and look down the 
corridor, but didn't dare. She sat there with the light on, shivering, her wand 
pointed at the door. Every little noise terrified her. It was five o'clock 
before exhaustion overcame her and she fell asleep.
She awoke to a sun-filled room. Memories of the night returned, but somehow they 
seemed trivial. It must have been a dream, a silly dream. She turned to her new 
alarm clock. Heavens, ten o'clock! Breakfast was over. She grinned at the sight 
of the clock. It had been a Christmas present from Harry. And it really was an 
alarm clock. If you didn't wake up as soon as the alarm sounded, it clambered 
over onto the pillow and started screaming 'Wake up, wake up, alarm, alarm', 
right into your ear. As she'd found out on Boxing Day!
Alongside the clock stood a small model dragon. If you pressed its nose, it 
glowed for a while. Ron's present. Utterly pointless! And next to the dragon, a 
giant Chocolate Frog in a Santa Claus foil wrapper - to keep the dragon company, 
Ron had said. I promise not to eat it, she'd told him. And she hadn't. She 
reached out and picked the dragon up, sat it on her chest and pressed its nose. 
She lay there smiling at it, as it glowed a sickly green. Silly old Ron. Bet 
Lavender didn't get a dragon for Christmas!
Finally she got up. The light in the room was unusually brilliant and as she 
peered out of the window she saw why. It had snowed overnight - the grounds were 
blanketed in snow, and with the sun in a clear blue sky, the effect was 
literally dazzling. She washed, dressed in a favourite blouse and skirt and 
hurried downstairs.
In the common room she could see two pairs of legs stretching out from two 
chairs parked in front of the fire. One set sported a hideous pair of green and 
yellow woolly socks. One of Mrs Weasley's presents to Ron - jumpers seemed to be 
out of fashion at the moment. She flopped into the chair next to him.
"Morning sleepy-head" said the owner of the socks. It was Harry.
"Why are you wearing Ron's socks?" asked Hermione.
"They're mine now. We had a game of cards."
"And you won and took Ron's socks off him? That's horrid. Wait until I tell Mrs 
Weasley."
"I didn't win" said Harry, pulling a face. "I lost."
"Ron!" said Hermione. "How could you? Now I am going to tell your Mum." She 
sighed as they both grinned at her. "I don't suppose anybody saved me any 
brekkie?"
Ron smiled and, with a ta-dah, produced a toast and bacon sandwich.
"Ooh lovely, thanks" said Hermione, holding out her hand.
"There are conditions."
"Ron, I'm hungry."
"Number one - you come outside and throw snowballs with us."
"Please, I'm starving."
"Number two" said Harry, "you don't do any work today."
"And number three" said Ron … "what was three, Harry?"
"We couldn't agree. But either way it was painful."
"Gimme!"
Ron handed the sandwich over. "Thanks" said Hermione, smiling at him. She was 
touched he'd bothered to bring her something.
The portrait hole opened and Ginny came in, her cheeks glowing. She was carrying 
a bunch of snowdrops.
"I rescued these" she announced. Ron and Harry pulled faces.
"I hope you're not going to make the common room all girly" said Harry, winking 
at Ron.
"I am" said Ginny, taking a vase off a table. She arranged the flowers in it, 
brought it over to where they were sitting and stood it on the mantelpiece. 
"That's better" said Ginny, sticking her tongue out at Harry.
"What's it like outside?" asked Harry, picking up a Quidditch magazine.
"It's wonderful. The snow is ever so deep" replied Ginny.
"Great" said Harry. "I love snow."
Ginny stepped towards him. "I thought so. That's why I brought you this ..."
Harry looked up, puzzled. Ginny reached inside her cloak, whipped out a snowball 
and plonked it down on his head. Harry shot up, brushing snow everywhere. Ginny 
squealed with laughter and then raced across the room and out through the 
portrait hole, as Harry roared and dashed after her.
Ron fell about laughing. Hermione tutted, produced her wand and, with the aid of 
a Gathering charm, collected all the snow back into a snowball. Then a smile 
came across her face. She bounced the snowball up and down in her hand and 
looked at Ron.
"Don't even think about it" said Ron, lazily.
"What?" giggled Hermione.
"You know."
"Me?" said Hermione, innocently. "Now would I do something like that?" She put 
her head on one side and looked at him. Ron stared back, grinning. Hermione 
tried to hold his eyes, but for some reason she suddenly felt embarrassed. She 
looked away, threw the snowball onto the fire and watched as it hissed and 
turned slowly to steam.
"Smart move" said Ron. He stepped forward and punched her gently on the arm.
Hermione turned and smiled, hesitantly.
"Come on" said Ron, "let's go and find them."
"Promise you won't all pick on me. I always seem to end up covered in snow at 
Christmas."
"Of course you won't. If they gang up on you, I'll be on your side. We can 
ambush them. I haven't turned Gin into a snowman for a while!"
"All right" said Hermione. "But I'm not going out there in a skirt. I'll have to 
change. Catch you up."
"Okay, don't be long." He grinned and hurried off.
Hermione walked slowly up the stairs, into her room and sat on the bed. 
Crookshanks climbed onto her lap and started purring. She stroked him as she 
stared into space. Why hadn't she been able to hold Ron's eyes? If was not as if 
... she felt a tingling in her legs. Don't be silly, she told herself.
She pushed Crookshanks off, jumped up and changed into a pair of jeans. Then she 
pulled on her boots and found a short, but warm woollen coat. Winding a scarf 
around her neck, she started towards the door … then she stopped. Lying on the 
floor, near the wall again, was Lavender's magazine. 'I moved that', she said 
out loud to the room. It was on my bedside table - she turned, but it wasn't 
there now. The events of the night resurfaced in her mind.
Feeling silly and a little uneasy, she edged towards the magazine. The same 
cover headlines, the same pictures, it was the same magazine. She stared at it. 
Then she picked it up, walked over to her desk and put it in a drawer. Crookie - 
it must have been, he must have been worrying it. He was lying on a chair, 
giving her his annoyed look, his why-aren't-you-making-a-fuss-of-me look. She 
smiled and went over and petted him for a minute or two. Then she hurried off.
It was a winter wonderland outside. The air was so clear, she felt she could see 
for a hundred miles. Every sense seemed magnified and she felt exhilarated by 
the beauty and sharpness of it all. Tracks in the snow told her which way to go 
and she soon found everybody. Ron and Harry were pelting Ginny with snowballs 
and Ginny was turning quite white. Hermione shouted to them. They turned and 
grinned at her - and then all three began to throw snowballs at her. Hermione 
ducked and dodged and tried to return fire but with three of them attacking it 
was hopeless and soon she began to resemble a snowman too.
"This isn't fair" spluttered Hermione.
"That's the point" shouted Harry, hurling another snowball, accurately.
Hermione started to back away and was about to flee, when Ron ran over and 
started knocking snowballs down. Harry and Ginny joined forces and began to aim 
at Ron, so Hermione started throwing at Ginny. The battle raged, but a lot more 
evenly. Now that somebody was on her side, Hermione began to enjoy herself. It 
was fun, when you weren't on your own! She scored three direct hits on Ginny and 
a couple on Harry. Ron managed to punch down most of the ones thrown at her, but 
took a lot of hits himself as a result.
"I'm whacked" shouted Ron suddenly, and he flopped back into the snow, too wet 
to care any more.
"Me too" said Hermione. She sank down beside Ron.
"We win! We win!" shouted Ginny gleefully, jumping up and down. She threw a 
final snowball at Ron, giggling as it hit him on the side of the head.
"Now what?" said Harry, trying to brush himself down.
"Sledding" declared Ginny. She whipped out her wand, closed her eyes, and waved 
the wand about. A genuine Hogwarts' chipped tea-tray materialised. Perfect for 
sliding down snowy hillsides! Ginny caught it and looked inquiringly at Harry.
"Okay" he said, laughing.
"Are you coming?" shouted Ginny to Ron and Hermione.
"Not me" said Ron and Hermione simultaneously. They turned and grinned at one 
another, and then watched as Harry and Ginny marched up the hill.
"What's Ginny doing?" asked Ron, squinting against the sun.
"Trying to push a snowball down the back of Harry's neck."
"Odd."
"Not really" said Hermione.
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing" said Hermione, trying hard not to laugh.
Ron looked puzzled and started to speak, but Hermione interrupted.
"Sitting in the snow getting wetter is not a good idea" she declared, in a voice 
that laid to rest alternate schools-of-thought on the matter. "There's a bench 
over that way, let's find it."
Ron followed obediently and they kicked their way through the snow, trying to 
remember where the path was. They found the bench in a couple of minutes. Ron 
wiped the snow away and they collapsed onto it.
"I'm soaked - and freezing" said Hermione. "How on earth are we going to get 
warmed up?"
"This from the girl whose speciality is portable fires" said Ron, rolling his 
eyes heavenwards.
"Oh, yes, I forgot" giggled Hermione. She conjured up several fires and arranged 
them around the bench.
"That's better" said Ron, warming his hands over a floating fire Hermione had 
set between them.
"Isn't it" said Hermione, holding her hands near, but not too near, to Ron's.
"It was fun though" said Ron, "but I suppose Gin will go on all day about how 
she and Harry beat us. Still we didn't do too bad ... considering."
"Considering what?" asked Hermione.
"Considering you can't throw for toffee" said Ron, putting his hands up to his 
face in mock surrender.
"Well thank-you."
"You weren't a total loss" continued Ron, oblivious to Hermione's carefully 
assumed hurt-face. "I mean not like Lavender or Parvati would have been. They'd 
have been moaning about their hair or their nails or their lip polish or 
something."
"Lip gloss."
"That too" said Ron, chuckling. "At least you're not all girly like that. You've 
too much sense to worry about what your hair looks like. Lavender was moaning at 
me and Harry on the last day of term, just because we didn't notice she'd put 
her hair into a pony-tail."
"I think she put it from a pony-tail into braids" said Hermione, smiling. She 
patted unconsciously at her own hair.
"Whatever. Why do girls worry about such stuff? Mad. I'm keeping well clear of 
that sort."
"What's your sort?" asked Hermione, wondering how he'd react.
"I don't know. Just normal" said Ron breezily. There wasn't a hint of the 
embarrassment she'd expected.
"Normal?"
"Right, but I don't think there are any normal girls in Gryffindor. Apart from 
you and Gin of course. And you don't count."
"I suppose not" said Hermione, wondering why she cared so much about this last 
declaration. She bit her lip and looked down at the ground. They sat in silence 
for a while, warming up.
"What do you want to do?" asked Ron, finally. "Sledding or back to the castle?"
"The castle for me."
"Okay. But let's take the long way back - I want to see if the lake is frozen."
"All right, it'll be a lovely walk, it should be beautiful under the trees." She 
put out the fires. Ron stood, and then held out his hand. Hermione took it and 
let him pull her up.
"Your hand's freezing" said Ron.
"I know, I'm a wimp when it comes to the Great Outdoors."
"Here" said Ron. He pushed her hands together and then took them in his and 
rubbed vigorously. Hermione felt her hands getting warmer. And, unaccountably, 
her cheeks were getting warmer too. She looked up at Ron, realising for the 
first time how much he'd grown. He towered over her and was no longer the 
gangling youth of last year. He grinned lop-sidedly at her.
"Okay?"
"Yes, thanks" said Hermione. "I can put my gloves on now we've stopped throwing 
snowballs."
"Have we?" asked Ron, a twinkle in his eyes.
"Yes" said Hermione, emphatically.
"All right, let's get going."
They walked along slowly, side-by-side, fighting their way through the snow, 
skirting around the deeper drifts. Ron fell headlong into one as he tried, and 
failed, to jump over a fallen tree. Hermione laughed and offered him her hand. 
Ron took it - and tried to pull her into the drift with him. He nearly succeeded 
but, just as Hermione was anticipating another soaking, he caught her eye, then 
let go and fell back into the snow. Hermione held her hand out again. Ron 
smiled, took it, and let her pull him up.
"Thanks" he said, bashfully. Then he grinned. "A quick look at the lake and then 
we'll go back. Race you."
He shot off. Hermione dashed after him and soon they arrived at the edge of the 
lake. It was frozen solid.
"Wow" said Ron. "Look at it. I could walk all the way across. I bet not many 
people have done that."
"No!" said Hermione. "Don't. It could break anywhere. It'd be stupid. You might 
drown."
"I don't suppose anybody would care" said Ron, shrugging. They stood in silence. 
And then, though she didn't know what made her say it, Hermione spoke.
"I'd care."
"Oh" said Ron. He turned away and stared out at the frozen lake. Hermione stood 
and fiddled with her gloves.
"Best get back, it's lunch time" said Ron, after a while. They walked towards 
the castle, not speaking, avoiding each other's eyes. Curious feelings were 
awakening in Hermione. She didn't understand them - and that worried her.
 
* * *
 
Lunch was a quiet affair. They were much too hungry to do other than feed 
ravenously. After eating their fill, they wandered back to the common room. Ron 
and Harry flopped down in the best chairs in front of the fire once more. Harry 
kicked off his shoes and plonked his feet on the edge of the hearth.
"Those really are horrid socks" said Ginny.
"Oh, I don't know" said Harry. "I think they're quite distinguished. I'm 
starting to like them. They're very warm." He wiggled his toes about.
"Well I know how I'm going to get warm" said Ginny. "A hot bath beckons."
"Good idea" said Hermione. "I think I may have a long hot shower. Come on, let's 
go up."
"See you later, presumably about tea-time, if Gin's normal baths are anything to 
go by" said Ron.
"Just because you don't appreciate the finer things in life" said Ginny, pulling 
a face. She and Hermione walked slowly up the stairs.
"How was the sledding?" asked Hermione.
"It was wonderful - once we'd got organised" said Ginny, stopping on the stairs.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, when we got to the top of the hill, Harry realised we only had one 
tea-tray, so he wanted me to conjure up another so we could slide down 
side-by-side. After a bit of thinking, and a little prompting, he worked out 
that he could get on behind me and we could whizz down together."
"So he had to put his arms round you?" said Hermione, smiling.
"Round my waist, he held onto me all the way down. He's very strong." She sighed 
longingly. "We went down six times - and I never did pluck up the courage to go 
by myself. In fact I was so nervous I had to keep wriggling up closer to him!"
Hermione shook her head. "Ginny, honestly, you're incorrigible, taking advantage 
of a poor defenceless boy like that! Especially Harry, I mean he's so ..."
"Hopeless with girls" giggled Ginny. "But very nice - I really like him." She 
bit her lip and blushed a little.
"I know" said Hermione. "It's not exactly been hard to tell. He needs somebody 
to look after him. I'm glad it's you." She reached out and hugged Ginny.
"How did you get on with my boring brother? I suppose he tried to snowball you 
to death or something?"
"No" said Hermione, "we had a lovely walk around the lake. He was quite the 
gentleman."
"Well, there's a first" said Ginny, linking arms with Hermione, as they 
continued up the stairs once more.
"What's he like? Away from school I mean. Is he nice? He doesn't seem to tease 
you as much as Fred and George."
"Not getting interested in him are we?" asked Ginny mischievously.
"No, certainly not, well, not like you and Harry, well not that I know, I mean I 
don't suppose Ron - and I don't really know if - no definitely not" said 
Hermione, very quickly. Then she turned pink.
"You do like him!" squealed Ginny.
"I didn't say that. I ... I don't know, to tell the truth. I've only known him 
as a friend ... but after this morning something feels different, I just don't 
know what it is."
"That's love" said Ginny, with the confident air of one who knew. "You never 
know what it is when it first hits you. I think it got me the first time I ever 
saw Harry - the day you three started school."
"You were too young then, surely?"
"Maybe, but the feeling has never gone away - and it's getting stronger. 
Sometimes I just start tingling if I see him. And some nights I can't sleep for 
thinking about him. It all seems very silly, but Mum tells me it's all very 
normal."
"Oh" said Hermione. She remembered the tingling she'd experienced. And she felt 
both embarrassed and unsure of herself, a situation unfamiliar to her. She and 
Ginny had reached the top of the long stairs. They separated and went towards 
their rooms.
"Hermione" called out Ginny.
"Yes?"
"Don't fight it."
In the common room, the objects of their affections talked Quidditch, munched 
sweets and flicked the wrappers at Ginny's flowers, oblivious to the events 
unfolding around them.
 
* * *
 
Hermione wandered back to her room after her shower, wrapped in just a towel. 
She pushed the door open and walked in. A cold chill shot through her and she 
froze, knowing instantly that something was wrong. She scanned the room - and 
saw it. The drawer to her desk was lying on the floor, her things scattered 
everywhere ... and the magazine was back in the same spot on the floor. She 
clutched nervously at the towel, pulling it tighter, wondering whether to run 
back to the bathroom, where Ginny was still ensconced in the bath. Was somebody 
in the room?
A movement caught her eye and she swivelled, heart hammering. Crookshanks stood 
on top of a wardrobe, his fur raised, his tail erect. He gave a plaintive miaow. 
That decided her - if there was still someone here, Crookie would have kept 
quiet. And she hated running away. She walked over to the wardrobe and, despite 
her shaking legs, stood on a chair and got Crookshanks down. She sat in a chair 
by the fire stroking him as he plucked at the towel. Both of them looked 
uneasily around the room.
"Who was it?" whispered Hermione to Crookshanks. "Who frightened you?"
Her mind was racing. Was somebody playing a stupid joke on her? It couldn't be 
Ginny. There were two first-year Gryffindors also stopping over Christmas, and 
she had spoken sharply to them a couple of days ago as they tried to turn each 
other into tortoises, but they wouldn't dare do anything like this. That left 
only Ron and Harry. Harry wouldn't. Which left Ron. But why? She hadn't done 
anything to offend him. And ... and Crookshanks wouldn't be frightened of him. 
Ron might not much like cats, but Crookshanks, lately, seemed to like Ron. She 
took a deep breath. So what was it? She sat for twenty minutes letting her legs 
and heart return to normal, whilst she tried to work out what was going on. Only 
one thing to do she decided.
She shooed Crookshanks off her lap, picked up her things and put the magazine 
back in the drawer. Then, with a practised flick of her wand, she triple-locked 
the drawer.
"Let's see you get it now" she announced to the room, turning slowly around, 
machine-gunning the walls and furniture with her eyes. She dressed and scurried 
downstairs, locking the room door behind her, something she wouldn't normally 
have dreamt of doing.
A single pair of legs sprawled in front of the fire. It was Ron. He looked 
around as she came in.
"Hi, where's Gin?"
"She's in the bath. Where's Harry?"
"Still? She'll shrink. He's gone to the broomsheds."
"He's not flying off somewhere is he?"
"No, it’s his turn to de-ice the cores" said Ron.
"De-what the what?"
"The core of the broom's tail, inside the twigs, the bits that make it fly" said 
Ron, grinning at her puzzled look. "If you get ice in the core, it pushes the 
tail out of alignment and you get tramp on tight turns. Firebolts are 
particularly susceptible. We've been taking turns to check and de-ice."
"Oh" said Hermione, realising she hadn't the faintest idea what he was on about. 
"Perhaps I need to look at mine."
"Already done, I've been checking yours, though Comets don't suffer that much 
from it."
"Thanks Ron, that was kind" said Hermione, smiling at him.
"Sit yourself down."
"I can't, I've got to go to the library."
"Not much point" said Ron.
"Why?"
"It's closed." 
"What do you mean?" asked Hermione.
"It's shut, locked-up, not open."
"I don't understand."
"I'm not sure how I can put it any more clearly" said Ron, helplessly. "Madam 
Pince closed it about an hour ago - I went to get a Quidditch book and she said 
she'd decided to stock-take before the rest of the school gets back. She shut up 
shop after I got my book."
"She'll let me in" said Hermione, a determined look on her face.
"I wouldn’t bet on it."
Hermione looked at him, then hurried off. Ron sighed and flopped back in his 
chair. What was she doing? He shut his eyes and lay back in his chair, wondering 
if she was all right. He'd had an uneasy feeling about her last night and now he 
couldn't get her out of his mind. He'd known her all this time and finally he'd 
realised how little he truly knew her. Nice eyes, he told himself, really nice 
brown eyes. And a gentle face, with a smile to die for. A tingle ran through him 
and he felt embarrassed.
Harry came back in, stomping the snow from his boots. Ginny bounced down the 
stairs, looking very pink. They sat and talked about this and that, argued about 
whose turn it was to get the tea, plotted how to steal Hermione's homework for 
copying and ate far too many sweets. The afternoon drifted by.
"Tea-time" announced Harry.
"Hermione can't still be in the library" said Ginny.
"Think what you're saying" chuckled Harry.
"She'll miss tea."
"I'll wait for her" said Ron. "If she doesn't show soon, I'll drag her out."
Harry and Ginny left, trying to trip each other up. Ron glanced at the clock. 
The big-hand was on Tea-Time. I'll wait until the small-hand gets to Hurry-Up he 
thought, watching it, trying to see it move. He was about to head for the 
library when the portrait hole opened, and Hermione staggered in, a huge pile of 
books in her arms. Ron jumped up and ran over to her.
"Give me those" he said, taking the stack from her. "Blimey these weigh a ton, 
point me at a table quickly. How did you carry them?"
"I used a Levitation Charm, but I think it's wearing off."
"Do you need so many?"
"Madam Pince let me stay there while she began the stock-taking, but now the 
Library is definitely shut, so I had to bring everything I thought I might 
need."
"What do you need them for?"
"Nothing much" said Hermione, steering Ron to a table. He plonked the books down 
with a thud.
"That's an awful lot of nothing much."
"Well, you know" said Hermione, evasively.
"No, I don't know, but I do know something."
"What?" asked Hermione, hesitantly.
"I know that I woke up suddenly last night, feeling that something was wrong and 
that it involved you. Maybe I was dreaming, but ..."
They looked at one another. Hermione pursed her lips and wondered if she should 
say something.
"Tell me what's worrying you" said Ron.
"Nothing." She shrugged.
He put his hands on her shoulders. "You don't have to fight every battle by 
yourself, you do know that?"
Hermione nodded, and then looked down. Ron ran his hands slowly up and down her 
arms. Hermione looked up at him - and then they both turned pink.
"Let's eat" said Ron, awkwardly, hurriedly removing his hands.
Hermione followed him through the portrait hole, in a turmoil again. The 
tingling was back ...
 
* * *
 
The evening passed quickly. Hermione wanted to peruse her books, but she 
eventually agreed to play exploding snap with the others. For Chocolate Frogs. 
Ron won all hers. And then he gave her them back.
"You've bought me enough in the past" he said, shrugging.
"Thanks" said Hermione. She bit the head off one and then offered it to him.
"Ta" said Ron. They smiled happily at one another.
Harry and Ginny played on for a while and then they all sat about talking, 
planning what to do tomorrow. Hermione's mind was not on the discussion. The 
fire burnt low.
"I'm tired" said Ginny, finally. "I'm off to bed."
"Me too" said Harry.
"And me" said Hermione.
"If you can't beat them, join them" said Ron, glancing at Hermione. They trooped 
up their respective staircases. Hermione edged into her room and looked quickly 
at the floor. The magazine wasn't there and an inspection of her desk told her 
it had not been disturbed. She sighed with relief, undressed quickly, turned out 
the light and climbed into bed. Her wand was reassuringly close to hand on the 
bedside table.
Despite spending most of the evening pondering the matter, she was no closer to 
working out what was going on and so she didn't want to dwell on it. A good 
night's sleep, up early in the morning and do some research before breakfast, 
she told herself. She jumped as something landed on her feet and reached 
instantly for her wand, before realising it was Crookshanks.
"Silly boy" she said, sticking her toes up for him to pounce on. She played with 
him until both tired of it. Soon they were sound asleep.
It was dark and cold when Hermione woke. She realised it was still the middle of 
the night and she wondered why she'd woken. Then she heard it. A faint noise 
from the door. It was here again, trying to get into the room. She grabbed her 
wand and slid out of bed. Crookshanks looked up at her and then jumped off the 
bed and into his basket. He curled himself around and went back to sleep. She 
pulled her dressing gown on and tip-toed to the door. Her heart was hammering, 
but she had decided the 'known' was less frightening than the 'unknown'. 
Nonetheless she stood there for several minutes, her every sense straining as 
the sounds gradually died away. Her breathing was shallow and uneven.
Then, in a sudden flurry of action, she unlocked the door, flung it open and 
leapt into the corridor, wand at the ready. She froze. Slumped against the wall, 
wrapped in a cloak, sat Ron. He was asleep, making a very faint wheezing noise.
Anger flared in Hermione. A stupid bloody joke she thought. His, and no doubt 
Harry's, idea of fun. Before she could stop herself, she had kicked him.
Ron sat bolt upright. He looked around, saw Hermione and jumped up.
"What?" he said, "what's happening?"
"You know" said Hermione. "How dare you? How could you? And I thought ..." Her 
words tailed off. She glared at him, feeling angrier than she'd ever thought 
possible.
"What's happening?" repeated Ron, trying to rub sleep from his eyes.
"'Tell me what's worrying you Hermione'. 'You don't have to fight every battle 
by yourself Hermione'. You must have been laughing yourself silly. Did Harry put 
you up to this? I'm never going to speak to either of you, ever again."
"I don't know what you're on about" said Ron, now fully awake. He pulled out his 
wand and looked anxiously up and down the corridor.
"At least have the guts to admit it. Where's Harry hiding? Around the corner?" 
demanded Hermione, turning away from him. I thought you were on my side, she 
told herself, but I'm ... I'm alone, as I always am. She swallowed hard and 
then, before she could stop herself, she started to cry. She rubbed furiously at 
her eyes, but it was no use. He'd been so nice today and she'd thought ... she 
dropped her wand and buried her head in her hands.
"Is something the matter?" asked Ron.
Hermione looked up, then ran into her room, slamming the door behind her. She 
raced to the bed, threw herself face down and let the tears flow. A stupid joke, 
that's all it was, a stupid pathetic joke. But she knew that wasn't why she was 
crying. For a few brief hours she thought she'd found somebody special, somebody 
who would be on her side unconditionally, somebody who cared for her. She 
clutched at her pillow and sobbed uncontrollably.
There was a tapping on the door. "Hermione, can I come in?"
"No!" She rolled over to get her wand so she could lock the door - and then 
realised she didn't have it. "Go away" she shouted.
The door opened and Ron strode into the room. He was holding her wand. He shut 
the door softly and muttered something under his breath.
Hermione heard the lock click shut. She rubbed at her eyes, determined not to 
cry in front of him, determined not to give him that pleasure. He walked over 
and stood by the bed.
"I've no idea what I've done, but I'm sorry. I hate it when you cry, please 
don't."
"What makes you think I've been crying?"
"You look just like Gin does when she's not crying either."
"Why did you do it?" said Hermione, glaring at him.
"Sleep by your door? In case something went wrong. I know something happened 
last night and you were so evasive about it. I wanted to be here to ... to 
protect you. Was that so wrong?" He reddened.
"Protect me? I thought you were trying to ... do you mean it wasn't you making 
the noises last night ... you didn't move the magazine?"
"What magazine?" said Ron.
She realised she'd made a mistake. He'd camped outside her door because he was 
worried about her. She looked at him, biting her lip, wondering how she was 
going to apologise, but wondering most of all if what had happened today was 
still what she hoped it was. And then she remembered she wasn't wearing much, 
just a dressing gown that was falling open. She blushed, grabbed hurriedly at 
the collar and pulled it more tightly across. Ron tactfully looked away.
"Keep your back turned" said Hermione. She quickly pulled on a tee-shirt and a 
pair of jeans, embarrassment threatening to overwhelm her. Crookshanks was still 
sleeping peacefully - and now she knew why. He'd known it was Ron all along. She 
pulled her dressing gown on again, for warmth. "You can look now."
"It's freezing in that corridor" said Ron turning around, handing over her wand.
"Incendia" said Hermione, pointing her wand at the fireplace. The fire blazed 
into life and they sat down in front of it. Ron rubbed at his arms and then held 
his hands out to the heat.
"Do you want a cup of tea to warm you up?" asked Hermione.
"Please."
Hermione scurried about, using her wand to shortcut the tea-making process.
"Thanks" said Ron, taking a steaming mug from her. She sat down beside him, 
watching as he drank deeply. He finished the tea. Hermione refilled the mug with 
a flick of her wand.
"Now" said Ron, taking another mouthful of tea, "tell me what's going on."
Suddenly glad to have someone to confide in, Hermione blurted out all that had 
happened ... "And then I saw you there and I thought you were playing a silly 
joke on me. So I kicked you. And you know the rest."
"Ah" said Ron, rubbing at his leg, "I wondered why that was hurting."
"Oh Ron, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you, I just lost my temper, I - "
"Doesn't matter" said Ron, interrupting her. "As long as you're in one piece, 
that's all that's important."
Hermione blushed at these words. He did care, he was on her side.
"So what is this thing?" asked Ron.
"I don't know" said Hermione. "I need to check through the books I got."
"I'll help you. What have we got to go on?"
"Well, the most obvious thing is that - " She stopped dead and they both span 
around. The table was starting to shake. Pens and pencils rolled off it, a vase 
started to bounce towards the edge. A furious rattling began. They leapt to 
their feet.
"The drawer, it's after the magazine" said Hermione. "I locked it. It can't get 
in."
"Get behind me" said Ron, moving in front of her.
Hermione pulled him back. "If I'm behind you, Ron, I won’t be able to see what's 
going on. I need to know what it is if I'm going to ... to deal with it."
"I don't want you hurt."
"And I don’t want you hurt" said Hermione quickly. They looked stupidly at one 
another for a moment, then turned their attention back to the desk.
"I've got to unlock the drawer" said Hermione, stepping forward.
"No" said Ron, grabbing her wrist. "You don't know what it'll do."
"I don't need to get too close" said Hermione, trying to pull free from his 
grasp. "I can unlock it from ten feet away. Can you do a Muralis charm to block 
it?"
"No" said Ron, shaking his head. "I can blast it though, as soon as I see it."
"Don't blast it, unless it comes for us."
He nodded and let go of her wrist. They moved slowly forward. Hermione felt a 
chill run through her and had a momentary feeling of dread. The temperature in 
the room had dropped several degrees. She raised her wand and muttered the 
counter-charm. The lock clicked open and the next second the drawer shot out and 
fell to the floor. They watched open-mouthed as the magazine rose into the air 
and started to float towards the wall.
And then, faintly, just at the edge of visibility, Hermione saw a figure 
carrying the magazine. It drifted towards the wall and dropped the magazine. 
Hermione sprang forward.
"What do you want?" she asked tremulously.
The spectre mouthed something and then disappeared through the wall.
Ron and Hermione stood, silent. They felt the temperature rise. Ron was the 
first to speak. He was shaking.
"I know this is a stupid question, but what was it?"
"It's a very good question. It - she - was a girl. Younger than me."
"How do you know it was a girl?"
"Didn't you see her Ron? You must have."
"I didn't see anything."
"She was a girl - a Victorian girl."
"Victorian, how do you know?" asked Ron, wondering if the wobbling in his legs 
was going to stop.
"Her dress, her hair, she was Victorian. Are you sure you didn't see her?"
"Positive. But I could feel evil. Pure unvarnished evil. We need to do 
something, tell Dumbledore or somebody. You can't stay here."
"Ron, she wasn't evil. She was ... unhappy. I asked her what she wanted." 
Hermione let her words hang in the air.
"And?" said Ron.
"She said ... she said, she wanted to die."
"She's a ghost, she's already dead."
"Does it work that way?" asked Hermione.
"I don't know."
"Precisely. Ron, she wasn't evil, she was frightened, she was worried ... oh, I 
wish you'd seen her."
"I wish I'd blasted her. Hermione, I know evil when I smell it. We've got to 
tell Dumbledore."
"No" said Hermione. "I want to find out what's going on. Who is she? Why does 
she keep moving the magazine? And anyway we can't tell Dumbledore. He and 
McGonagall are away in London, so we'd have to tell Snape."
"Oh" said Ron, grimacing. The idea was not appealing - he'd probably be expelled 
for being in the girls' dormitories. "So what do we do?"
"Get some sleep. And in the morning I'll start reading. We've got enough clues."
"Okay" said Ron, "which bed am I having?" He looked around the room and pointed. 
"That one looks fine."
"Ron! You can’t sleep in Lavender's bed ... or Parvati's ... or anybody's."
"All right, I'll use your chair."
"You can’t sleep in here!"
"We'll go down to the common room then."
"No, don't be silly. You've got to go back to your room."
"You don't think I'm leaving you here alone, do you?" He pulled a pillow off 
Hermione's bed and tossed it onto the chair. "Got a spare blanket?"
Hermione didn't know what to do, but she realised Ron wasn't going away. And as 
she stood looking at him, she decided she didn't want him to. She found two 
blankets and put them on the chair.
"Thanks" said Ron, sinking into it. He wrapped himself in the blankets and then 
grinned at her.
Hermione smiled back hesitantly, still embarrassed at the thought of sharing a 
room with him.
"You'd better wake me up early in the morning and I'll sneak back to my room" 
said Ron.
"All right" said Hermione. Then she giggled to herself. "You can have my alarm 
clock." She set it for seven and put it alongside him.
After putting out the light she climbed, still fully dressed, into bed. Pulling 
the covers right up to her chin, she lay there staring at the ceiling. She knew 
she should be thinking about the girl, but all she could think about was Ron, 
who was now asleep not five feet from her. She reached out and pressed the nose 
of her dragon. The glow lit up Ron's face a little and she turned onto her side 
and gazed at him.
 
* * *
 
They woke as the alarm clock went off. Hermione pushed off the covers and sat on 
her bed, her arms around her knees. Ron kicked aside the blankets and sat on the 
arm of the chair.
"So" said Ron.
"So" echoed Hermione.
"Are you okay?"
"Fine. You?" said Hermione.
"Fine."
"You'd better get back to your room."
"I guess."
"Did you tell Harry what you were doing?"
"No. I was going to tell him this morning."
There was a short silence.
"It might be better if you didn't" said Hermione, hesitantly. "I mean, we don't 
know who she is, she might need help and Harry might be a bit, er, gung-ho and 
want to start zapping her."
"Like me" said Ron, quietly.
Hermione bit her lip. She'd hoped he'd forgotten about that. She swivelled round 
and sat on the edge of the bed. "It was a pretty natural reaction at the time. 
But, well, maybe we could just keep it between ourselves for now?" She had been 
thinking about this all night and she knew what she was asking of him. 
Uncertain, she looked down at her feet.
"All right ... just you and me" said Ron, slowly. Deep down he realised 
something had just changed, a line had been crossed. He and Harry normally 
shared everything - now he was sharing something only with Hermione. Harry was 
still a friend, but Hermione seemed to have become more than that.
"I'll look through my books to see if I can find anything. You keep Harry and 
Ginny out of the way" said Hermione, looking up. Ron nodded and then stood.
"I'd better sneak back then." He managed a half-smile.
"Right."
"See you at breakfast?"
"Yes" said Hermione. They looked awkwardly at one another.
"I'll be off then."
"Okay."
Still they looked at one another. Hermione's heart was pounding. She tried to 
hold his eyes. And then Ron reached down and took her hands in his. His touch 
was electrifying and her arms stiffened.
"Be careful" he said, squeezing her hands gently. "If she reappears, just get 
the heck out."
"I'll be careful" promised Hermione. The room looked tiny and far-away, the only 
thing in focus was Ron. He squeezed her hands again and then let go and walked 
to the door. He turned and smiled and then he was gone. Hermione threw herself 
back on the bed and lay looking at the ceiling, emotions she'd never experienced 
before washing through her. The tingling was intense.
Eventually she dragged herself up, took a quick shower and went down to the 
common room, where she began sorting through the books and parchments piled-up 
on her table.
It was nine o'clock before Ron and Harry surfaced. Ginny appeared ten minutes 
later and they headed down to breakfast. Much to Hermione's relief, nothing was 
said about the night before - she had been worried that Ginny might have heard 
something or Harry might have noticed that Ron was missing. After sausage and 
bacon they headed back for the common room - and the fire. It was snowing 
outside and a strong wind was blowing. An indoors-day, Ginny declared.
"How about two-a-side Quidditch, in here, on foot?" said Harry.
"Don't be silly" said Ginny. "It doesn't work unless you can fly."
"I'll get the brooms then, if we're careful we won't smash into too much."
"I have to do some ... research" said Hermione carefully.
"You're on holiday" said Harry, staring at her.
"It wouldn't work Harry" said Ron, quickly.
"No?"
"No, the room isn't long enough, we’d spend all our time turning and the Snitch 
would run rings around us. It can turn on a sixpence."
"You could be right, oh, well just a thought" said Harry shrugging.
"I'll take you and Ginny on at chess for Ginny's secret stash of Chocolate 
Frogs."
"What secret stash?" asked Ginny going red.
"Aha" said Ron, "knew you had one!" He grinned at her as she went redder. Harry 
put his arm around Ginny's shoulder and whispered something in her ear. Ginny 
giggled and nodded.
"I'll get to my books then" said Hermione, hurrying away.
She spent the morning poring over her books. Ron sat with Harry and Ginny by the 
fire. He played chess and laughed and joked with them, but his thoughts were of 
Hermione. The touch of her hand remained still solid in his mind. He went over 
every detail of their walk and the events of last night and wondered if she was 
thinking about him. She couldn't be, he decided, but he hoped otherwise. His 
conversation was monosyllabic.
Lunch came and went and still the wind blew, still they lazed in front of the 
fire. Hermione joined them at intervals for cups of tea. Ron's heart hammered as 
she sat next to him giving him shy smiles, and he wondered if he was going mad. 
Normally they'd have been bickering about something stupid and often enough he'd 
been glad to see the back of her. Now he began to count the minutes to the next 
cup of tea and he kept looking at her, not caring if anyone noticed.
Tea-time arrived and they trooped off to the Great Hall. Having done little 
energetic, they picked at their food. Conversation was spasmodic, as they had 
said all that was to be said during the day and Hermione was deep in thought. 
After an hour, they returned to the common room.
Hermione headed for her table. Harry and Ginny made for the fire. Ron stood, 
caught between fire and table. After a glance at Harry and Ginny, he went to the 
table and sat down next to Hermione, who was scribbling on a parchment. She 
looked up and he was rewarded with a flashing smile.
"Have you found out anything?" asked Ron.
"Not sure. I keep thinking I've found something, but, oh, I just don't know." 
Hermione flopped back in her chair and threw her quill down, feeling helpless. 
Her world of certainty and exactitude had been turned upside down by feelings 
she had no control over. She couldn't concentrate, much as she knew she needed 
to.
"I'll help. Give me something to do."
"Start looking through this" said Hermione, handing him a copy of Catchpole's 
Apparitions. "It's the third edition, so it's in alphabetical order."
"Right" said Ron, opening the huge calfskin-bound volume. A spider scuttled out 
of the book's spine. Ron swallowed hard, but ignored it. He started turning 
pages, wondering what he was looking for. Evil Girl? Evil Victorian Girl? 
Luckily there were pictures, so he concentrated on them, skipping quickly over 
the 'impossibles'.
They worked on in silence as Harry and Ginny played a noisy game of Battle 
Chess. Ron grinned to himself - they way they played, they'd probably both lose! 
He was sure they'd be over any moment to see what was going on. It was not usual 
for him to be cloistered with Hermione. Suddenly he decided he had to know how 
she felt. He took a deep breath and then took Hermione's hand and pulled it 
below the table, where he laced his fingers through hers. He kept his eyes on 
Catchpole - he couldn't look at her. To his delight, her fingers pressed gently 
at his, so he turned and smiled hesitantly at her.
Hermione beamed back. They sat and held hands, saying nothing, pretending to 
look at their books. Hermione finally decided she couldn't do any more research, 
concentration was impossible. She wondered if she should tell him her theory, 
but decided against it - she was so unsure of her deductions now and she didn't 
want to look stupid in front of him. Better just to test it.
"I'm popping upstairs for something. See you in a little while" she said, 
untangling her hand from his.
Ron watched as she hurried across the common room. She paused at the foot of the 
stairs and smiled at him. As she turned around and started up the stairs, he 
didn't see the uncertain look that replaced the smile.
Laughter from the fireplace drew his attention back to Harry and Ginny, who sat 
together on the sofa. They didn't seem to be missing either him or Hermione. 
Ginny was giggling and pushing a magazine and pencil at Harry, who was trying to 
push them away. Not one of her stupid quizzes thought Ron, she was always 
filling them in. He wondered why she'd want Harry to help her. His brow creased 
as he remembered how he'd seen Ginny trying to push snowballs down Harry's neck. 
And the snowball she'd brought into the common room. And she'd spent a good hour 
or more sledding with him. His mouth twitched into a smile. It couldn't be, 
could it? His smile broadened. He'd have to let Hermione in on this. At last he 
knew something she didn't!
Chuckling to himself, he turned back to the books. He glanced at Hermione's. It 
was open at a chapter about poltergeists. Returning to Catchpole he began to 
leaf through it again, letting his eye wander slowly over the pages. He had 
reached page 67 and was about to turn over, when something caught his eye -
Neonate : A particularly malevolent form of apparition. Neonates are ghosts that 
have not been allowed fully into the world of spirits. They are doomed to remain 
forever as 'new-borns', neither really ghost nor human, hovering between two 
worlds. They are often being punished for wrongdoing committed whilst human. The 
prime motivation of these evil spirits is to escape their limbo and either 'die' 
(in whatever sense that may apply to a ghost) or 'exchange' places with a 
human-being, thus transferring their miserable confinement to some luckless 
soul. If they sense a sympathetic human, they may attempt to attract pity and 
compassion, with a view to 'exchanging'. They form strong, irrational, 
attachments to particular objects and their determination to move these to 
specific locations often leads to neonates being confused with poltergeists 
(q.v.) Destruction of these objects may destroy a neonate, particularly if fire 
is used. The general Wizarding population should not tackle these creatures, 
unless Muggles are in immediate jeopardy. Report suspected occurrences to the 
Ministry of Magic by express-owl as soon as possible, quoting reference 
CpAiii/67/NN.
Ron read and reread the section and stared blankly. And then a feeling of dread 
ran through him and though he didn't know how he knew it, he was sure Hermione 
was in danger. He jumped onto the table and ran along it, knocking books and 
cups flying. At the end he took a flying leap and ran madly towards the girls' 
staircase. Harry and Ginny stared, open-mouthed.
He took the stairs three at a time, threw himself down the corridor and crashed 
through the door into Hermione's room. Hermione was sitting on the edge of a 
bed, reading a magazine.
"Are you okay?" blurted out Ron.
"Yes, thank-you."
"That thing, it's a neonate, it's evil."
"I am aware of that, do you think I am completely unschooled?" said Hermione, 
looking slightly annoyed.
"Well ... I ... how did you know? And where is it?"
"I have disposed of ... it."
"How?" asked Ron.
"Oh goodness, questions, questions, questions. Isn't there something else you'd 
rather do?" She advanced slowly towards him, a faint smile playing about her 
lips. Ron swallowed hard.
"Aren't you going to embrace me?" She made a small curtsey and stood there, 
hands clasped demurely in front of her.
"Er ..." said Ron, blushing furiously.
"Do not be shy, come, embrace me Ronald."
Ron stepped towards her ... and then stopped. "What did you call me?"
"Ronald, my own dear Ronald, what else would I call you?"
Ron stared at Hermione and then began to back away. "Ronald? You've never called 
me Ronald before. Never. That's so ... old-fashioned." He stared at Hermione 
again and then began to shout. "You're it aren't you? What have you done with 
Hermione? You've exchanged with her. Where is she?"
"Oh Ronald, Ron, a moment please. I must beg you to abandon these ridiculous 
ideas."
Ron span around, looking round the room. They were alone - almost. Crookshanks 
stood on top of the wardrobe, fur raised.
"Call Crookshanks to you" said Ron, staring at Hermione.
"Crookshanks, come here at once" snapped Hermione, turning towards the wardrobe. 
Crookshanks didn't move. Hermione moved towards the wardrobe, cooing to him, but 
he just arched his back and hissed at her.
"You can't do it, can you" said Ron quietly. "Where is she?"
Hermione turned back to him, smirking now, and pointed to his right. "She's 
beside you, can't you see her? No, I don't suppose you can. She is pleading for 
you. But now you have me instead."
Ron turned to his right. If he squinted, he could see a very faint shimmering. 
"I don't want you. I want the real Hermione. Bring her back." His voice was 
trembling, he was starting to lose control.
The false-Hermione laughed - and then her face began to twist and change, 
flowing and bubbling like hot candle wax. Ron backed away in terror. The body 
was Hermione's, the clothes were Hermione's, but the face was now that of a 
younger girl.
"What are you?" croaked Ron.
"Who am I! I am Hermione, who else?"
"How did you get here?"
"I awoke! There is an energy in this room, a longing, a passion, and that 
awakened me and brought me here. I grew stronger as it grew stronger. I am whole 
again. And now I have you - and I feel we shall be very happy together."
Ron stared angrily at her. On an instinct, he groped through the air with his 
right hand - and felt a faint tingling. He moved his hand and felt resistance. 
Hermione's hand he decided, as he glared at the girl. She glared back at him.
"Do not anger me Ronald. Or I will be forced to settle with you, just as I did 
with Thomas."
"Thomas?" said Ron, squeezing his fingers hard against Hermione's ghostly hand.
"My younger brother. Oh, he was so annoying, so infuriating, such a perfect 
little boy. My parents adored him. So I killed him." She twirled around and then 
gave Ron a simpering smile.
"What?" said Ron weakly. Her smile sent shudders through him.
"I put arsenic in his food. He died slowly, it was such fun to watch. Of course 
I was so upset when he died. I cried for quite two days. Mama was most concerned 
about me." Her smile hardened. "And then I died - I went skating at Christmas on 
the Thames and the ice gave way. And I drowned. I don't know why. Everybody else 
was saved."
"Because you're evil" said Ron, slowly. "You deserved it. I'm surprised they 
didn't catch you for killing your brother."
"Oh, they never suspected me. I put a few crystals of arsenic in the housemaid's 
room and told the police detective that I had seen her fussing with his food. 
They arrested her. And hanged her. But she was common and poor, so that didn't 
matter."
Ron's blood boiled. He let go of Hermione's hand and reached for his wand. 
Common and poor - charges so often levelled at him by Malfoy. Suddenly his mind 
was made up and he stepped towards the girl.
"Hermione has not gone yet - bring her back, it's your last chance."
"My last chance? Why? Whatever do you mean Ronald?"
Ron levelled his wand and, picking his words carefully, said slowly and clearly. 
"Bring her back. Swap back and you will have a chance to swap with somebody else 
- if you're careful you may get away with it next time. If you don't bring 
Hermione back, I'll destroy you, I'll shred you."
"That will not bring Hermione back."
"That won't stop me seeing her again, I'll find a way. But you'll be dead and 
gone - forever. Her life, to give you another chance to exchange. Ten seconds to 
decide."
The girl tittered and put her hands in front of her mouth.
"Nine ..."
"Ronald, you know you can't do it."
"Eight ... seven ... six ..."
"Don't! I can't go through that again. Just because I killed my horrid brother."
"Five ... four ... three ..." said Ron, pointing his wand straight at the girl.
"Stop! Stop ... I'll do it." She was crying now and looking helplessly at him.
Crocodile tears, thought Ron, she's killed at least twice. He kept his wand 
aimed at her heart. The girl suddenly grinned at him.
"Now" shouted Ron. He stared at her - and then, to his amazement, she began to 
fade away. To his side something faint and Hermione-shaped started to 
materialise. He stared from one to the other, watching the girl disappear as 
Hermione reappeared. The process took nearly a minute. And then the girl was 
gone and Hermione was back. He swallowed hard and goggled at Hermione.
"Ron?" said Hermione, in a very small voice.
He nodded. Hermione threw her arms around his neck and they hugged.
"It is you, isn't it?" said Ron hoarsely.
"I think so" faltered Hermione.
Ron felt something brush against him. He looked down. Crookshanks was rubbing 
himself against Hermione's leg, purring madly.
"It is you" said Ron, beaming. He let go of Hermione and stood back, holding her 
at arm's length. "What happened? What did she do to you?"
"Oh Ron, I thought I knew what she was, I thought she was a poltergeist. I took 
the magazine and told her to come and get it. And after a bit she did. She 
seemed so unhappy and I thought I could help her. But I was wrong, completely 
wrong."
"Doesn't matter, we all make mistakes."
"I don't" said Hermione. She hung her head.
"First time for every thing" assured Ron, gently rubbing at her shoulders.
"I tried to talk to her, but she just laughed at me and ... I don't know how to 
explain it. She just drained the me out of me. I couldn't stop her. She got 
brighter and I got fainter. And when she was me, she taunted me, said she was 
going to take you from me and ..."
"Take me away from you?" said Ron weakly, wondering if he'd heard right.
Hermione looked up and nodded, her cheeks pink. "I called and called to you, but 
no sound came out."
"I felt you calling" said Ron.
"What?"
"I felt something, I don't know what, but I knew it was you, knew you were in 
trouble. That's why I came up."
They stood looking at one another.
"Ron I'm so sorry. I should have told you what I was going to do, should have 
asked you to help. You said I didn't need to do everything by myself, and I 
hoped you meant it, but I didn't know if you really ..."
A hiss made them jump. Crookshanks was backing away, spitting at something. 
Tables started to shake, books began to fall off shelves, a vase fell to the 
floor smashing into a thousand pieces. Windows flew open and then slammed shut 
with almighty bangs. A bed lifted a clear three inches off the floor and then 
crashed back down. Hermione screamed.
"The girl" said Ron, letting go of Hermione. He span around, looking for her.
"She's coming for me!" shrieked Hermione, pulling her wand out. Ron moved close 
to Hermione, reaching for his own wand. And then his face hardened and he ran to 
the bed and grabbed the magazine.
"We've got to stop her, permanently. Maybe this is how!" he yelled, waving the 
magazine. He held it up and then ripped it in half. A scream came from nearby. 
He tore again. Another scream. He ripped the magazine again and again, each tear 
accompanied by ever-louder cries. The crashings and bangings died away. He 
smiled in grim satisfaction.
"You're killing her" whispered Hermione.
"Good" said Ron. The words from Catchpole were clear in his mind and he knew 
what he had to do. He dashed to the fireplace and slowly, deliberately, began to 
throw the torn pieces onto the fire. The screaming intensified, rising and 
falling as each piece burnt.
"Ron, don't" said Hermione, her voice trembling, "don't torture her. Just ... 
just burn it quickly."
"You care about her? After what she tried to do to you? Do to us?"
"Ron, please."
Ron saw tears in Hermione's eyes. He swallowed hard and threw the rest of the 
magazine onto the fire. It blackened and curled and then suddenly blazed up. An 
ear-piercing scream rang out, louder than anything he had ever heard before. It 
went on for long seconds and then faded away. Ron looked at the fire - the 
magazine was gone. He turned to Hermione and saw she was crying, so he ran to 
her and wrapped his arms tightly around her. Her head fell against his shoulder 
and he held her, stroking her hair as she sobbed. He plucked up his courage.
"I'm not sure if this is the right moment to say this Hermione, but I think I'm 
falling in - "
His words were cut short as the door crashed open and slammed against the wall. 
Harry burst into the room and dropped into a crouch, wand out, his eyes alert 
and searching. Ron let go of Hermione and moved away from her, faster than he 
would have ever believed possible. Harry scanned the room rapidly - and then 
straightened up. Ginny stood in the doorway, her wand arm limp and shaking.
"We heard the screams. Are you okay?" asked Harry.
Ron and Hermione nodded.
"We saw the book" wavered Ginny. "A neonate? In here?"
Ron and Hermione nodded again.
"Where is it?" said Harry, wand still level.
"Ron killed it" said Hermione, rubbing at her eyes.
Harry lowered his arm. "Nice one Ron. What did you do to it?"
Ron explained what had just happened, missing out the awkward fact that he'd 
known about the ghost before.
Harry nodded thoughtfully. "You should have told us, Hermione - you were lucky 
Ron was quick on the uptake. If he hadn't been, that, that thing, could have 
fooled us for ever more."
"Not much chance of that" said Ginny. Ron looked at her. She was smiling at him 
and her eyes were twinkling. Ron felt himself going pink. Ginny couldn't 
possibly know how he felt about Hermione, could she?
"Well" said Harry, tucking his wand away, the crisis clearly no longer figuring 
as such in his mind. "Time for a cup of tea I think. Coming?" He looked 
expectantly at Ron and Hermione.
"I don't think they are" said Ginny. She grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him 
towards the door.
"Stop pulling Gin. Of course they are" said Harry.
Ron glanced at Hermione and saw her blush and look down. "We'll catch you up 
Harry" he said.
Ginny dragged Harry through the door. As she closed it, she saw Ron take 
Hermione in his arms. She beamed.
"What?" said Harry, looking puzzled.
"Try and work it out" said Ginny, giggling. She slipped her arm through his and 
propelled him towards the top of the stairs.
"Is something going on?" asked Harry, his brow furrowed in concentration.
"I'll tell you later" sighed Ginny, shaking her head in disbelief. She stopped 
by a window and looked out. The wind had dropped and it was no longer snowing. A 
half-moon lit up the countryside. Ginny brightened.
"Harry - how do you feel about sledding by moonlight?"
 
T   H   E       E   N   D
 
Author's note : well, now that I've done HH, HG and RH, I'm unsure what to make 
the next one about. If you were to twist my arm and demand that I own up to a 
"ship" preference, it would probably have to be HH. So, back to HH? Some new 
combination? More HG? Why is life so complicated ... 
            Review Story ( be a responsible reader and write a review)
            Title: Awakenings
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