"Don't cry. Relax. No matter what you do, don't start crying."

That mantra echoed in Hermione's head time and time again while she was climbing up the hill and returning back to the castle. On the surface, everything appeared to be exactly like in any other day: all those other, chatty and cheerful students were storming out of dusty classrooms to enjoy their minimum freetime before gathering in the staying room to write their essays. Soon the tables of the Great Hall would bend on the weight of the dinner treats. Yes. Just like in any other day. But then again, it was all the opposite. Even if she tried her best, she wasn't able to dive into this glad, waiting atmosphere. All those people around her felt so unreal and blurry, like she was in a dream.

She had left Harry and still gackling Ron to Hagrid's care. Their worried glares had burnt her back like a flame and she couldn't help feeling guilty about it, but deep inside she had known she should get a chance to be alone for a while.

Hagrid's words had helped her a little, but she wasn't able to shake this new twinge of weight off her chest. It wasn't like this was the first time she had been called names. Geek, nerd, gap-toothed, troll with a mullet, a know-it-all...there were many options to pick from. Of course it was obvious that her conscientious and somewhat controlling nature couldn't possibly please everyone. Even Ron had told him off because of it, and she had forgiven him a long time ago.

But this...in some peculiar way, had cut deeper. Sure, Slytherins and Gryffindors had never been closest friends, but Malfoy's hatred had caught her totally by surprise. To think that someone, who didn't know her at all, could judge her because of something she couldn't even effect on...those two words had hidden so much meaning. Even though a lot had been left unsaid, everyone had realized Malfoy's message: that she did not deserve to be a part of wizard society. And more than that, she was embarrassment to it.

While she was thinking about it, the unexplainable feeling, the mix of denial and defience, rised to the frontground of her mind: an essential, craving need to prove him wrong. Without even noticing she hurried her step and hold the book tight against her chest. Regaining her self-confidence little by little, she tried to remind herself of her own words: Gryffindors got in by pure talent, and that's all that mattered. She would work even harder and show the doubters that she belonged here as much as everyone else! She wasn't a quitter, and if someone thought he could make her feel that way...

Agitated and focused on her own fierce thoughts she didn't notice the danger before it was too late and bumped into Neville, who startled and fell. In the process, his memoryball slipped away from his fingertips on the grass.

"Someone is out of space today, huh?" Seamus, who had followed his friend with creased Daily Prophet in his pocket, asked teasingly.

The read flooded on Hermione's cheeks but she ignored him and kneeled to help. "I'm so sorry, Neville!" she sputtered hastily. "I didn't notice you. Are you okay? Your memoryball..." Worry and shame grew in her with every word, since she knew how important this little object was to him: after all, she had been there when his grandma had sent it to him.

"Hey, slow down", Neville assured and cleaned his sleeves. "I'm in one piece, and so is this little guy." After seeing the doubtful look on her face, he picked the ball and showed it to her. "See? Glowing as red as ever!"

Half compassionate smile spread on girl's lips: sharp memory didn't admittedly belong to his strengths.

Boy's eyebrows wrinkled when he started to notice her mood. "What about you? You look like you'd be ready to push someone off the broomstick."

Even thought it should've been impossible, the blush on her cheeks got even deeper. Had she really been so obvious? A small fraction of her wanted to tell them everything, but she flapped the decision in the same thought. "I'm fine, really. There's just so much to do and learn..." her voice trailed off. She didn't have to explain it - they were all in the same boat.

"Tell me about it." Seamus' bored sight came straight from his heart while he rolled his eyes. "Remember the paper that Snape gave to us this week? Seriously, couldn't he have chosen any easier assignment? It's giving me grey hair!" Despite his annoyance he gave the girl a slow smirk. "Too bad we can't all be masterminds like you."

Hermione answered to the smile and shrugged reductively. Actually, she had completed the task last night, but in this case it might be better to stay quiet about it. In his ordinary way, Neville tried to encourage him as best as he could. "At least you haven't blown up anything today..." "Yet." Seamus completed his sentence gloomingly, but there was a spark in his eyes. "There's still plenty of time to make McGonagall pissed."

Their discussion cheered Hermione up and almost made her forget that mornings' incident. Still, the clock was against her: the library was calling her already. "I'm sorry, but I gotta go. I guess I'll see you in the staying room, then?"

She felt complete and secure knowing that soon she would get into something she was good at and focus on different worlds through the books. When Harry and Ron would return, they could move into totally different matters. She had almost made it to the doors when she heard a familiar voice calling her, automatically stopping her.

"Hey, Granger! Wait!" This voice had the same, ordering tone that she knew all too well, but it surprisingly lacked its usual arrogance and wickedness. That one little sentence made all her progress vanish into a thin air and she had to focus one hundred persent to calm herself. She wouldn't give this boy any satisfaction of seeing how much he had gotten under her skin. No way.

"Relax. No matter what you do, don't start crying."