Based on the 30 Breathtakes prompt 'In the silence of the night.'

Short chapter. Apologies.

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"Blimey, woman," Fred grumbled. "You'll be the death of me yet."

Harry and Ron both fought back smiles at the sight of Hermione and Fred trying to vainly to get the other to do what they wanted. For Hermione, she wanted Fred and Lee to stop playing Exploding Snap so she could help Ron with his potions essay without his getting distracted. Fred though, he just enjoyed seeing how ruffled he could make her.

Ever since the year before, when Fred had discovered how easily irritated Hermione was, he had pinpointed her as his number one target. It only served to aggravate her further knowing that he was blowing off studying for his OWLS to pick on her.

Slamming down her quill, Hermione glared at Fred. "And exactly how is that?"

He grinned, propping his chin up in his hands. "By ignoring my immense comic talent. That's quite a blow for a bloke as sensitive as myself." Blue eyes twinkling mischievously, Fred let his head loll to one side while he continued to grin goofily at her.

"Honestly," she muttered, turning back to face Harry and Ron, but a small smile played across her lips that she refused to let the older boy see.

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Harry's perceptions had warped over time. With the things he's seen, he'd think himself mad if they hadn't. For instance, his assumption that Professor McGonagall held all the answers, just like Dumbledore. No he knows better.

When he first came to Hogwarts, never would Harry have imagined a moment when he'd lose his temper with her.

"Harry," Mrs. Tonks said in a purposely soothing voice, "I don't really think this is the time or place for this."

He deflated a little at her words and the feel of her hand resting lightly on his shoulder drove the point home. There weren't that many people still gathered at the Burrow, but the ones that had remained to 'help out' were trying much too hard to act as if they weren't interested in what was going on. Looking at Professor-no, he reminded himself-Headmaster McGonagall's face, he knew he'd over stepped himself by saying it was stupid to allow Hermione to quit school.

Directing him to a corner of the living room, she spoke in low tones to Harry so as not to be over heard. "I understand your anger, Harry. Hermione is one of the brightest students I've seen in all my years, but it's her decision."

Harry sighed. It was just all so unfair. To everyone involved. He caught sight of an old photo of Fred and Charlie hanging behind McGonagall's head. They were smiling good naturedly at the camera, both with eyes that spoke of unheeded mischief about to spring to life. Fred looked to be around twelve years old, making Charlie about seventeen. Yes, it was all so unfair.

"I know," he said. "It's just…I feel like I'm partly to blame for ruining her life."

Smiling sadly, McGonagall tipped her head closer to him and asked in an even, authoritative tone, "You don't really believe you're to blame for this, do you, Harry?"

"Partly," he admitted. "If not for me, Voldemort would never have been able to come back…to gather his army. The battle wouldn't have happened and no one would have di-"

"Stop it."

Both of them turned toward the direction on the voice to find Hermione, looking pale and angry, and more alive than Harry had seen her look in days. Her dark eyes glittered with indignation in the glow of the fire, her stance one that Harry recognized at once. It was her 'I know what's best' posture; arms folded, jaw set, and left foot set slightly more in front of her body than the other.

McGonagall looked back and forth between Harry and Hermione, then over to Ron standing a few feet away, before excusing herself so they could talk.

"Hermione…" he began, but she cut him off, walking over to stand right in front of him, so close he could see every line of red in her bloodshot eyes. "Harry," her voice trembled, and she took a deep breath to steady herself, "I don't blame you, honestly I don't. I just can't bear the thought of going back in the castle again. Ever."

Tears began to gather in the corners of her eyes, making her blink in rapid succession and she turned her head to the side in hopes that she wouldn't notice. He did though, and felt about an inch tall for making her cry again-she didn't need this on top of everything else she was going through.

"I'm sorry, Hermione….I know!" The thought suddenly occurred to him, causing the gloom over his face to clear momentarily. He motioned Ron over quickly, talking before he even reached the other two. "I've been thinking about moving into Grimmauld Place since, you know, I do own it and everything and Kreacher's even nice now…you guys could move in and we can all finish school together."

Ron, who hadn't looked cheery in longer than Harry could remember, light up, his face breaking into a smile and he thumped his best friend on the back. "That's a great idea, Harry. You sure you don't mind having us there?"

"Are you kidding? I don't want to rattle around that creepy old place by myself." Harry turned to Hermione, hoping to gauge her reaction to the idea. She'd taken her bottom lip between her teeth, worrying it while she mulled the thought over.

"Wouldn't it be great?" Ron asked, to neither of them in particular. "On our own and everything-finally."

"I don't know…" Hermione said. "My parents want me to move back home and take a break from magic for a bit."

Jaw dropping open, Ron stared at her in something close to horror. "What? You're…you're not serious."

"Ron…" Harry tried to stop his friend from saying something that would upset Hermione like he had earlier, but he waved Harry off.

"You can't take a break from magic, Hermione, you're…you're the bloody brightest witch of your age, remember?"

If it weren't childish, Harry would've covered his ears with his hands as he was expecting Hermione to go off on Ron at any moment. Instead, the corners of her mouth quirked up. A small laugh escaped her and she grinned at Ron. "Let me think about it."

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