The Hogwarts Lonely Hearts Club

Little Miss Cross

It wasn't an unusual sight in the Gryffindor Common Room to find Hermione Granger sat on her own at the table under the window just to the left of the fireplace. It was one of the bigger tables in the room, in better condition than most, but the bossy, snooty cow tended to regularly commandeer it for her own use. Then she'd sit with her back facing the room to work, turning only to snap at moderately loud talking, to chastise people for running around nearby, or else tell everyone off for having unnecessary fun.

It led to the belief that this was the tightest-wound Gryffindor in the history of the House. Either that or she had somehow managed to get a particularly awkward branch of the Whomping Willow stuck up her bum.

But that weekend yielded something of a watershed moment in this pattern of behaviour. For whilst Hermione was still to be found sat at her table, she didn't do her usual 180 degree head-spin (for many students were convinced that she had this ability) to shout at a single person. Nor did the gobby witch huff and complain about over-exuberant revelry. And even the Prefects agreed that it was the first weekend in living memory where Hermione didn't lecture them on how to do their jobs properly.

Her dorm mates, the ones who knew her best, even though this wasn't saying much, discussed the matter amongst themselves and wondered openly if Hermione might be ill. Indeed, Lavender Brown even swore that she heard Hermione humming to herself as she worked, which the others dismissed immediately, as Hermione didn't approve of unnecessary noises of contentment. That was a fact well known by the girls who were around her the most.

But they all agreed that something had definitely happened to change Hermione, even if none of them could guess what it might be.

Now, if Hermione had been able to have an out-of-body experience and look back at herself, she'd have likely noticed this new behaviour too, though she might have had a better insight into what had caused it. She wouldn't have wanted to think that it was all because of Harry Potter, that her renewed vigour in Charming her special paper and stamps had anything to do with him, but she'd have shyly thought about it just the same.

For that was pretty much all she had done all weekend - think about Harry Potter. She hadn't meant to blurt out that she'd quite like to have him as a penpal, and her unexpected brazenness had rattled her. But what had rattled her even more was that Harry Potter had actually agreed to the scheme. That had not been on the cards at all and Hermione was honestly a little unsure about what to do with the development.

One thing she did know was that she found the possibilities a little bit intoxicating. Ever since that first blink of surprise, as Harry's name materialised at the bottom of her Master Penpal Sign-Up sheet, Hermione found herself unexpectedly entertaining the idea of what it would be like to get to know him a bit better. She'd never dwelled on the prospect of getting to know anyone intimately before, but Harry Potter wasn't your usual anyone, and she blamed that for this sudden change in her attitudes.

For a start, Harry was the biggest enigma at Hogwarts. Famous ... albeit for something he knew more about from textbooks than his own memory ... but guarded, some even said sullen and moody. But Hermione had never gotten that sense about him. Painfully shy, keen to avoid the glare of attention ... these descriptions of him satisfied Hermione the best, along with a fierce reluctance to discuss the events that had made his name. And, given the horrific nature of what he had suffered, who could blame him for shutting down all attempts to wheedle information from his wounded heart?

Though it seemed now that he was willing to talk about it, or at least to talk about something. He'd signed up to an anonymous buddy scheme just for that purpose, but had agreed to go ahead with it even though he now knew who he'd been telling his private things to. Hermione was deeply curious about that, keen to understand why he was still pliable to opening up, even though he would eventually have to look his secret-keeper in the face.