Disclaimer: I own nothing except for the wonderfully exciting plot for this story. Actually, I probably stole it from someone else. So yeah, I own nothing. Except for my new pink pen!
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Hermione left the library late. She had been given permission to stay after it closed because she wanted to get an early start on her Muggle Studies essay, A Muggle's Understanding of Witchcraft. The corridors were deserted, which was not surprising since the rest of the school had eaten dinner and retired to their common rooms hours ago.
She walked in silence, aware of every little noise in the school. The coats of armor were softly creaking as they stirred in their sleep, and there were whispers coming from the subjects of various paintings who were still awake, scurrying from painting to painting carrying lanterns which made the corridors flicker softly.
As much as she hated to admit, she was becoming quite nervous. She'd never wandered through the castle by herself this late at night. Sure, she'd been out lots with Ron and Harry on various excursions that would have gotten them into loads of trouble had anyone else found out, but she'd never been alone like this. She'd never noticed all of the subtle sounds of the castle at night when she was with Ron and Harry. She supposed it was because they always seemed to be on their way to do something relatively important (otherwise she'd never break school rules and go along with them) so she had something else to keep her mind on.
Now, however, not even her Muggle Studies essay was enough to occupy her thoughts. As she walked past another creaking coat of armor, she shivered, and her thoughts drifted to Ron. "You're nothing but a bloody brain!" His words from earlier that day echoed over and over in her head. She wasn't sure if he knew how much that one comment had hurt her. Of course, she'd pretended at the time that it was nothing, but.. Was that really how he saw her? All he saw in her? He had the ability to hurt her more than anyone she'd ever known, yet at the same time she always felt so completely comfortable when he was near her. Nothing bad could ever happen to her while Ron was there, or if it did, just being with him seemed to make it better. She wondered why this was but was too tired to think clearly.
Yawning, she walked the last few steps until she reached the portrait entrance to the Gryffindor tower. She sleepily said the password, "Bubotuber pus." Nothing happened. Hermione looked up at the portrait, where the Fat Lady usually was. It was empty. She frantically searched the nearby paintings but had no luck locating her. It looked as though she had left for the night.
Hermione was dumbstruck. What was she supposed to do? Just wait out here until morning, when someone else could let her in? She supposed she had no choice. So, trying to be brave, she sat down on the floor and waited, realizing it would be hours before anyone woke up. Overcome with tiredness, she decided to lay down and try to sleep. Shivering, she held her wand in her hand, just in case.
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Review, please!! I'll love you forever! :)
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Hermione left the library late. She had been given permission to stay after it closed because she wanted to get an early start on her Muggle Studies essay, A Muggle's Understanding of Witchcraft. The corridors were deserted, which was not surprising since the rest of the school had eaten dinner and retired to their common rooms hours ago.
She walked in silence, aware of every little noise in the school. The coats of armor were softly creaking as they stirred in their sleep, and there were whispers coming from the subjects of various paintings who were still awake, scurrying from painting to painting carrying lanterns which made the corridors flicker softly.
As much as she hated to admit, she was becoming quite nervous. She'd never wandered through the castle by herself this late at night. Sure, she'd been out lots with Ron and Harry on various excursions that would have gotten them into loads of trouble had anyone else found out, but she'd never been alone like this. She'd never noticed all of the subtle sounds of the castle at night when she was with Ron and Harry. She supposed it was because they always seemed to be on their way to do something relatively important (otherwise she'd never break school rules and go along with them) so she had something else to keep her mind on.
Now, however, not even her Muggle Studies essay was enough to occupy her thoughts. As she walked past another creaking coat of armor, she shivered, and her thoughts drifted to Ron. "You're nothing but a bloody brain!" His words from earlier that day echoed over and over in her head. She wasn't sure if he knew how much that one comment had hurt her. Of course, she'd pretended at the time that it was nothing, but.. Was that really how he saw her? All he saw in her? He had the ability to hurt her more than anyone she'd ever known, yet at the same time she always felt so completely comfortable when he was near her. Nothing bad could ever happen to her while Ron was there, or if it did, just being with him seemed to make it better. She wondered why this was but was too tired to think clearly.
Yawning, she walked the last few steps until she reached the portrait entrance to the Gryffindor tower. She sleepily said the password, "Bubotuber pus." Nothing happened. Hermione looked up at the portrait, where the Fat Lady usually was. It was empty. She frantically searched the nearby paintings but had no luck locating her. It looked as though she had left for the night.
Hermione was dumbstruck. What was she supposed to do? Just wait out here until morning, when someone else could let her in? She supposed she had no choice. So, trying to be brave, she sat down on the floor and waited, realizing it would be hours before anyone woke up. Overcome with tiredness, she decided to lay down and try to sleep. Shivering, she held her wand in her hand, just in case.
...
Review, please!! I'll love you forever! :)