The first thing Harry Potter felt was a familiar hand playing with his hair. Little by little, he began taking in his surroundings.

“...can’t be trusted, what if she hurts him?” someone asked, it took a few moments for Harry to realize there was a heated argument going on.

“Ella is on guard,” Neville snapped, having the decency to whisper.

Slowly, Harry opened his eyes and blinked a couple of times to clear his bleary vision. Part of his Court was present.

“Welcome,” Luna whispered, handing Harry a glass of water that he gratefully drank.

“You want something to eat?” Blaise asked gently. Harry pretended not to notice how close he was to Luna and denied with his head.

“What happened?” Harry asked, noticing his friends were looking at him with different degrees of relief.

“A siren attacked you and Cedric,” Theo began explaining, taking a sit on his bed. “You managed to put Cedric underwater before she screamed.”

“They took you to Saint Mungo’s for treatment,” Draco added in an almost inaudible tone.

Harry began noticing the different degrees of tiredness on his friends’ faces and wondered for how long he was unconscious.

“Ruptured eardrums and severe acoustic wave induced traumatic brain injury, congratulations,” Daphne huffed, Harry didn’t miss her swollen eyes and tried to smile at her.

“Actually, I think Head Healer Abbot was torn between breaking his Hippocratic bow and slap you for being so reckless or turning you into a test subject,” Justin informed him almost cheerfully.

“He says you shouldn’t have been conscious after the attack, much less for so long,” Neville told him in his usual gentle tone.

“And Cedric?” Harry asked, closing his eyes.

“He’s fine,” Blaise answered with clear amusement.

“You will have to speak with him though, he didn't take it well,” Draco said.

“When am I getting out?” Harry asked with a heavy sigh, knowing the answer wouldn’t satisfy him.

“A week at most,” Theo said, making Harry sigh again.

“Don’t worry, we brought you your books, wand, mirror, and that ugly cat sneaks at night,” Justin added cheerfully.

Harry only hummed in response, his eyelids felt too heavy and his brain too foggy to remain conscious. Absently he felt a healer examining him but paid no mind. Before sleeping though, he wondered how to make up to Elizabeth for all the stress he undoubtedly put her through.

Hermione Granger clutched Crookshanks closer to her chest when she heard voices in a distant hallway, her heart beating faster as she hurried her steps. She pushed open the heavy door while chanting the seventeen rules she was breaking while trying to ignore the echo of the closing door.

As always, Crookshanks jumped from her arms to his objective. Hermione only sighed and sat on the closest chair while unwrapping a sandwich and nibbling on it. She never imagined she would be breaking more rules in a week than in all her previous years. How the tables have turned.

If anyone found her, she was accusing Crookshanks of emotional manipulation and blackmail. Hermione sighed again, not daring to look at the bed, a mistake she only made once before.

Monday night Crookshanks was brought to the Gryffindor tower by a smiling Neville. Apparently, her spoiled cat invaded the infirmary to visit his friend. Madam Pomfrey wasn’t amused. From there on, her cat began a strike. Destroying her homework, biting her books, breaking her quills, scratching her backpack, and not allowing her to sleep. She lasted as long as she could under those conditions, a day to be precise, but who cared? In the end, Hermione ended up sneaking her cat to the infirmary while chanting the twenty-six rules she broke that day.

Four days went by and no one found out. Though there was a strange creature that almost gave her a heart attack while offering Hermione some food, considering the small thing kept quiet, it didn’t count. She forgot to research the creature again, dang it!

As she ate her humble dinner, Hermione pondered on how much life changed the since classes began.

Potter taking care of Crookshanks wasn’t something she ever thought to be possible, yet it was. Being honest, that encounter changed her perception of the boy, leaving her a bit uncomfortable when she noticed how superficial she was while judging him. For someone who prided herself on her intelligence, it wasn’t smart to judge a person by the rumours that surrounded them.

Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. Hermione’s mother lived throughout this motto, always showing her pleasant mask in public and eviscerating people behind their backs, especially her daughter. Growing up with this example, Hermione swore not to follow her footsteps. She obviously failed, quite spectacularly at that. Too bad she didn’t inherit more of her dad, maybe then life would be easier.

After Potter returned Crookshanks, her life turned a hundred times more exciting. Change Hermione didn’t welcome at all.

First came the rumours. The witnesses began spreading rumours about Hermione purposefully leaving Crookshanks in the dungeons for Potter to find him. Others said she charmed her cat to find Potter. Attention-seeker, braggart, poseur – in the eyes of Potter’s fans and the school in general, Hermione was all that. The rumours and attempts of bullying revealed her classmates’ true nature.

Most of the times, Lavender and Parvati flanked her when going to classes. Others, the boys took their places. Ginny never left her alone and even Ronald sat beside her during meals. All in all, the experience forced Hermione to realize her classmates may not be the best students, but they were good people and that was enough. Thinking about it, alienating her roommates only because they had different interests than her was one of her most stupid decisions. What could she say? She was shallow and prided herself on being different from the other girls. Too late she realize people are unique in their own way.

Lavender was an artist in every sense of the word. She had an eye for colours and beauty, which were shown off in her drawings. Parvati loved writing. True, the girl was into romance, but she was able to create fantastic worlds. It was a shame Hermione took four years to realize her roommates weren’t airheads, just people with different goals.

She was also feeling guilty for the way she treated Ronald. The boy got on her nerves because of his blatant lack of interest in school, she never realized the reason why he was having such a hard time in school. Dyslexia and ADHD, he obviously had a hard time learning. Counsellor Ciro taught everyone a spell that jumbled up the words in a book but, apparently, it helped the students with dyslexia to read.

Seamus was a bit of a pyromaniac, but he always managed to make her laugh. Dean was quiet, finding comfort in silence and always accompanying her to the library. Hermione didn’t know them well, but she was trying.

It was an eye-opening experience indeed. But, as much as the whole thing helped her to grow as a person, Hermione was thankful for the teacher’s intervention. All of her bullies-wanna-be were punished, and the ones clever enough to avoid punishment were pranked by Ginny’s older brothers. However, no one could stop the rumours and the glares.

Of course, everyone forgot about her when Potter was friendly with a fifth-year Hufflepuff girl. Some said she was Potter’s new conquest, others said she was Zabini’s girlfriend, and everyone knew better than trying to bully a Hufflepuff because if you attacked one, you attacked the House. This time, Hermione ignored the rumours.

“What are you doing?” a raspy voice asked, almost giving her a heart attack.

Hermione clutched her chest as she tried to convince her heart to stop trying to leave her chest. Her head snapped up and she glared at the boy, only to look at the floor a second later. Yeah, looking was a mistake.

Potter looked pale and his hair was a mess. Considering how soigné and neat the boy presented himself, Hermione felt as if she was violating his privacy... and also, it was a tad frightening. She clearly remembers her grandfather’s funeral – wan skin, dry lips, and closed eyes. It was illogical because she intellectually knew Potter was alive, but the image was enough to give her chills.

“Sorry for scaring you,” Potter said in a rough voice, absently petting the now purring Crookshanks.

“Uhm... Do you want some water?” she asked, trying not to look at him.

“If you don’t mind.”

Hermione immediately filled the glass on the night table and carefully handed it to him, scared to let go of the glass. The silence stretched as Potter drank, only being broken when she heard the gentle sound of the glass being placed on the night table. She was already regretting visiting that night.

“Are you... uhm, hungry?” Hermione asked. She wouldn’t ask Potter how was he feeling, it was pretty obvious.

“To be honest, I don’t think my stomach can handle food.” The silence stretched again. Crookshanks loud purrs served as white noise. “I guess the situation was bad for you to visit me.”

Hermione winced, trying to ignore how similar Potter sounded to her mother when she was about to be scolded – or harshly criticized for all her shortcomings, however you wanted to call it.

“Crookshanks wanted to visit you and I don’t want Madam Pomfrey or Healer Abbot to catch him,” Hermione said in a small voice, hating how a simple tone could reduce her to this state. She didn’t mention how bad the situation actually was.

Like most of the school, she saw the Second Task. Potter rescuing Cedric Diggory and being attacked by that siren. Even from the bleachers, Hermione heard the siren’s scream, her ears hurt the whole weekend. Everyone saw the blood running down Potter’s neck. Everyone witnessed the medical team panicking because of Potter’s state through the mirrors until the connection was cut. All in all, bad didn’t cover it.

The Sunday Herald headlines talked about Potter being in Saint Mungo’s and Dumbledore’s sudden death. There was also a full article that talked about the siren that attacked Potter causing a rift in her tribe. Everyone forgot about how cosy he was with that Nagi, but considering the other champions were either rendered a blushing mess by their charm or scampered as rats when attacked, it was a tame reaction.

The whole weekend was a mess.

On Monday, Professor Dumbledore’s funeral took place. Personally, Hermione regretted assisting. Professor McGonagall looked empty and the old Hogshead barman was sporting swollen eyes and vacant expression. There was a small crowd, all showing different degrees of grieve or satisfaction. She was reminded of the reason why the adult world was such a scary place.

“So it was bad,” Potter sighed, startling Hermione. “You are really transparent.”

Hermione didn’t answer and not once met his gaze. She didn’t even know how long she was staring at the floor, lost in her thoughts. When she finally snapped out of her trance, she noticed Potter was unconscious and Crookshanks was plastered to his side. Carefully, she covered her cat and cast a charm on the blanket to mask the lump her overgrown feline was.

Before leaving, she filled the water glass on the night table and warned Crookshanks not to get caught or no treats until next month. Carefully, she sneaked out of the infirmary towards her common room. Hermione didn’t fancy any possible rumours, she was glad being the good old invisible Hermione Granger.

She no longer hates Potter and she definitely doesn’t like him, but least she could now proudly announce she didn’t envy his fame and the constant scrutiny he was under. Her simple life was perfect for now.