A/N: This chapter is un-beta'd at present. If you spot a mistake, let me you.

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Just When You Think You Know Someone...

It was a long way to the top of Gryffindor Tower, seven floors to be exact. Hermione knew this all too well as she now struggled to make her way up the final flight of steps; book bag in hand, freshly laden down with library books. Yes, even on the first day back at Hogwarts, Hermione Granger was the first student to hit the library in search of books - beating even the most studious of book-loving Ravenclaws.

As soon as she entered the red and gold clad common room her eyes were drawn to the hunched, slouching, flame-haired form of Ronald Weasley in front of the large fireplace. Dropping her bag with a resounding thud beside the over-sized couch, she sunk down among the cushions and turned to face the youngest Weasley boy.

They were alone in the Common Room, all the other Gryffindors having already retired for the night now the over-indulgent sugar-fest of the welcome feast was over. Only the noise of Pigwidgeon twittering from his perch on Ron's shoulder disturbed the quiet.

"Ron?" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Raising his face away from the enchanted flames, the Gryffindor prefect turned to face her, remaining silent.

Hermione noted the frown that brought his brows together and the flush of his cheeks betraying the signs of a recent burst of red-haired temper. She tried again.

"Ronald?"

"Hey, 'Mione" Something in Ron's eyes seemed to suddenly switch on, as if he was only just noticing she was there. "Find what you were looking for in the library?"

"Of course." A smile quirked at her lips. It was often said that Hermione was never happier that when she was pouring over books in the library. "And, Harry?"

"Won't say a word."

"He went to see Dumbledore though, didn't he?"

"That's why he won't talk to me." Shrugging slightly he hunched further down in the couch, legs splayed before him. "He was fine until I asked what Dumbledore wanted to talk to him about. He just clammed up."

Hermione was startled to see the glisten of tears in his eyes. Ron was such an emotional being, able to fly into a blinding rage at the drop of a Malfoy insult, then in the blink of an eye look at her as he was now - worried, concerned, scared for his best friend and just a little hurt at that some friend's refusal to talk to him. It was this side of the red-hed that she struggled over her feelings towards. But that would have to wait till later. Right now, she needed to sort out her boys. Ron could wait; it was Harry she was really worried about. Reaching out, she placed a hand on his shoulder, smiling to herself as she saw him blush even more and look away, refusing to hold eye contact.

"Ron, you know there is stuff Harry's not telling us, and you know why."

"Yeah."

"He's just trying to protect us."

"I know." Ron was paying close attention to his hands. "I don't have to like it though."

"No, you don't." Squeezing his shoulder slightly she softened her voice. "But you can be there for him, as I will, when the walls he is building come crashing down around him."

Catching her eye he nodded slowly.

"He's going to need us then, Ron."

"Ok, Hermione." Relief flooded through him and he felt himself smiling. "I'll be there."

"Oh, Ronald Weasley!" She lunged forward, wrapping her arms around his neck, the momentum pushing him back until she was sprawled over him in a mess of arms and legs. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Well, erm, ah..." Realising just exactly where his hands were currently resting, his face was rapidly turning a deep red, clashing with his hair.

"Oh, right. Ok, ahem..." Sitting up swiftly, Hermione straightened herself out and raked her fingers through her hair. "I'll just go see how Harry's doing."

"Ok, yeah, sure. See you later."

Head bowed, the Head Girl made a speedy and rather embarrassed exit in the direction of the 7th Year boys dormitory. Stopping just before the entrance she took a left, ducking into a slightly recessed alcove. Ascending the short flight of steps rapidly she stopped in front of a plain door, in-ornate and the only in the tower not fronted by a portrait.

Pausing to collect her thoughts before entering she counted slowly to ten before whispering the password to the door.

---

Music played quietly in the background of the circular room high up in Gryffindor tower.

I'm tired of being what you want me to be; feeling so faithless, lost under the surface

I don't know what you're expecting of me; put under the pressure of walking in your shoes

A finger traced the path of a raindrop down the glass pane of the gothic window. A long held sigh escaped from the lips of the young man with scruffy hair and emerald eyes seated on the wide stone window ledge.

The music charm continued playing quietly in the background as his lips moved silently along with the words. If there were two things he would be grateful for over the past summer they would be Dudley for inadvertently introducing him to decent muggle music and Hermione for getting him Practical Magic for the Muggle in Today's Wizarding World. It was full of several useful charms, such as the one he was using now.

Can't you see that you're smothering me; holding too tightly, afraid to lose control

'Cause everything that you thought I would be; has fallen apart, right in front of you

His discussion with the Headmaster kept circling through his mind, over and over. Did the old man really think he was going to as he said? Well not this time. This time when Dumbledore said 'Jump' he would be answering with 'How high?'

Every step that I take is another mistake to you; and every second I waste is more than I can take.

Dumbledore could just take his plan and stick it as far up his own arse as it would go, and then some.

I've become so numb, I can feel you there; become so tired, so much more aware

I'm becoming this, all I want to do; is be more like me and be less like you.

And then there was Malfoy. What was up with the Prince of Slytherin? He didn't seem quite so ice cold during their encounter outside the Great Hall earlier that evening. He'd been in fine form on the Hogwarts Express, got his temper going good. He still knew how to push all the right buttons to get a reaction out of him, Dumbledore's Golden Boy.

Yet, where were his two stooges, Crabbe and Goyle? Noticeably missing from his side on the train and sitting as far away from their leader at the Slytherin table.

Something wasn't right there, and he was going to find out what.

Hang on a minute, why should I care about Malfoy?

- Because you're a Gryffindor. You care what happens to everyone.- The voice at the back of his mind suggested.

Not everyone, he thought back hard. What about Snape? I don't care about him.

- You have a saving people thing, the tendency to act the hero. -

I don't want to be a hero.

- You know what the girls mean when they say he's the hottest guy in Hogwarts... -

I won't dignify that with an answer.

- ...after you of course. -

Shut up!

- It's because of the dream, isn't it? -

No.

- Isn't it? -

Yes. It's because of the dream.

- Knew it. -

Oh, shut up...omg I don't believe I am holding a conversation with myself.

Banging his head lightly on the stone wall behind him, trying to banish thoughts of the dream and Dumbledore's message from his mind when he was interrupted by the noise of the door to his room opening. What now?

"Harry?"

Hermione, should've know she'd be up once Ron told her I would tell him what happened.

"Hi, Hermione." He didn't turn or move a muscle, too tired to even smile in greeting. "You got the password list then?"

"Yes, and I have to ask, why that password?"

At this comment Harry allowed himself a soft chuckle at his friend's confusion, turning to face her. "Why not?

Rolling her eyes she walked over to the window until she was level with the Gryffindor Seeker.

"Who in their right mind would even guess that would be my password?"

"Good point."

"Thank you."

"Does Ron know it?"

"No." Harry looked away quickly, not wanting her to read the emotion in his eyes.

"Ah, that would explain his testiness then."

"Quite. He didn't like it when I wouldn't give it to him."

"Yes, I've just seen evidence of it."

"You only know it because you're Head Girl. Only other person who knows it is McGonagall. Dumbledore doesn't even know it, thankfully."

"Things didn't go well?"

"Not, really." His fingers worried the edge of his already worn t-shirt.

"You going to tell me what happened?"

"Not yet."

"Well, when you're ready Harry, I'll listen."

"Thank you, Hermione." Sitting up and swinging his legs back towards the room he jumped down off the ledge.

"I had a word with Ron too."

"Bet he loved that."

"Harry!"

"Oh, just get together already. You two are driving me crazy."

"We'll see." Giving him a quick hug, she placed a soft kiss on his cheek. "Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, Hermione."

Picking up his copy of The Art of Divination and laying down on the large poster bed, Harry was aware that he wasn't alone again yet. Looking towards the door, he saw Hermione standing in the doorway, door half closed, peering at him curiously. He raised an eyebrow in question at her.

"Just how did you manage to get a room of your own this year?"

Smiling at her, he placed the book face down on hi chest and sat up slightly, shrugging casually. "Persuasion."

Harry bit his lip, chewing it nervously. He didn't want to tell her about his meeting with Dumbledore, but he was going to have to tell her something. "I can't tell you why, 'Mione, not yet. I'll just say Dumbledore thought it would be...safer this way."

The frown on Hermione's face seemed to deepen for a moment, as if she was going to ask more questions. She thought better of it thought, there would be plenty of opportunities during the next few weeks to get to the bottom of Harry's secrets. "Well, Dumbledore always seems to know best."

"Right." He had to bite down on his tongue to stop himself from saying what he really thought about Albus Dumbledore.

"See you at breakfast, Harry."

Without waiting for an answer, Hermione shut the door firmly but gently behind her before making her way to her own private rooms in the girl's dormitories. Being Head Girl did have some benefits after all.

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Dark green eyes watched the door close through lidded eyes, feeling suddenly heavy and weighted down. Rubbing them, Harry tried to rid them of the ever growing tiredness he was feeling.

Turning back to his divination book, momentarily forgotten on the bed, he returned to reading the passages on Aztec divination.

This year mattered, no matter what else would be expected of him he had to work hard and learn as much as possible. If that meant actually paying attention and doing his Divination homework honestly, so be it.

And this year there would be a shock for the members of the DA. Eugh, he wasn't looking forward to that little revelation.

Dammit, now he couldn't concentrate. Changing quickly into his nightwear he snuggled down under his comforter, placing his glasses on the side table.

Eyes eased closed as the tiredness caused by the long day finally took its toll.

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A/N: Thank you for all your reviews - they are much appreciated. To answer a question asked recently, yes this will be Harry/Draco, I promise, eventually evil grin - just hand in there and shall receive your reward. Please let me know what you think of the chapter, good, bad or indifference, just make it constructive, please begs.