"If you're going to screw up, do it while you're young. Older you get, the harder it is to bounce back." -Winston Groom
A failing grade. It even sounded wrong when she thought it in her head. Never had she ever failed an assignment. Ron and Harry, of course, had both seen such dismal grades over the course of their years at the school; yet, that was expected. After all, you had a better chance of getting them to say that Professor Snape was actually a kind and gentle man than getting them to study or do their assignments prior to an hour before it was to be turned in.
That wasn't Hermione, though. She did her schoolwork weeks prior to its due date and spent hours researching for it if need be. It wasn't in her bones to not care about her grades. She wasn't considered the brightest witch of the age for no reason at all. She was the top of her class and was determined to get a job as an Unspeakable when she graduated. Because, if Hermione was one thing . . . it was curious.
The idea of her failing anything was preposterous!
How could McGonagall do this to her?
Hermione brushed back her fringe angrily when it had the nerve to fall into her eyes. It was like the red mark on the top of the scroll of parchment was taunting her as it sat in front of her. She couldn't stop looking at it, memorizing the foreign design that signified her failure. Signified a bump in the road that she hadn't seen coming. Would this change anything? She knew for a fact that Theodore Nott was a close second in their class. Would this grade bump her down enough to lose that honor so close to graduation?
Unable to stand it anymore, Hermione snatched up the parchment and threw it with all of her might away from the table. Unfortunately, the wind resistance seemed to outweigh the strength of the toss because the parchment barely made it as far as the nearest bookshelf before floating rather gracefully to the floor of the library. She blinked back tears of frustration as she stared at the cause of all of her troubles. She couldn't escape from it. Just another failure to add to a slowly growing list.
"Are you alright, Hermione?" a deep voice asked from just behind where she sat, causing Hermione to jump and spin around in her chair.
"Neville?" she asked in return, blinking her large brown eyes up at the lanky boy standing before her.
"Sorry to disturb you," he mumbled, fidgeting from foot to foot as she continued to just stare at him. "Harry and Ron told me what happened. I figured you'd be upset."
Hermione sniffed in response, turning to face forward in her chair and away from him. She didn't say anything for a while, causing Neville to grow even more antsy. Hermione Granger had always made him nervous. She was one of the few people who had always treated him like someone who wasn't inferior to them. He'd been looked down on so often that when one individual treated him better, it really stood out. Hermione really stood out.
He was just about to excuse himself and leave in mortification at how much of an idiot he was to even seek her out to begin with, when she finally spoke again. "I've never failed before. Ever."
Her voice sounded so weak, he had to take a step closer in order to hear clearly. Her shoulders were sagged, as if she was about to close in on herself. This wasn't the strong, spit-fire Hermione Granger that he had known since the very first time he had stepped onto the Hogwarts Express back in their first year. He'd never seen her so down before. Not even when Malfoy teased her or called her unthinkable names.
"It's just one grade," he said, hesitating slightly before finally building up enough courage just to go sit across from her at the table. It was even harder looking her square in the face. Her eyes were red and puffy from the few traitorous tears that had fallen despite her stubborn refusal to cry.
"It's not just a grade," she insisted, looking at him and shaking her head. "It's everything."
She was so different than the rest of the world. Never had he met someone with half the determination that she had in her body. She set her mind to something and she got it. That's just the way she was. And from the first moment they had stepped into Hogwarts she had set her mind to being the best. She would excel at every class and prove to those who thought she was less than them simply because of blood-status, that she was really better.
"There will be other assignments, though," Neville said, smiling reassuringly at her as she wiped a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand.
"I'm just not used to being bad at something," she whispered, looking down at the table and pushing her hair back again. He could tell that she was gradually calming down.
"Everyone fails," he said, "It's human nature."
"But it's not my nature."
"I guess you're not human, then," Neville said teasingly, biting his lower lip as he realized it might sound offensive.
She surprised him by laughing. It was soft and rather shaky, but still a laugh. "I guess so."
He smiled happily, pleased that he could get such a reaction out of her. Maybe there was hope from him yet. He'd grown up, after all, and he wasn't the awkward boy that he once was. He was no Harry Potter or Blaise Zabini, but he was still . . . cute. And he'd been waiting for a particular bookworm to realize it for far too long. It was times like these that he cursed his shyness. He wished he was blunt and to the point like some of the other guys in their year. He wished he could waltz on up to a girl and tell her that he fancied her, just like that. No nonsense and no dancing around the truth.
"Thank you, Neville," Hermione said, a soft smile spreading over her rosy lips as she looked across the table at him.
"Don't mention it," he said, waving it aside with a flick of his wrist. "I was just worried you'd be a little upset."
"A little?"
He nodded, looking down to prevent the choke of emotion that came over him when she glanced at him in such a way. Like she was truly happy it was him that had come to find her and not anyone else. "I just wanted you to know that it's alright to get a bad grade. I mean, if you're going to do poorly at any point in life it should be now, right? It's a lot harder to get back up when you fall later on."
Hermione sighed, looking over his shoulder to where the parchment still laid on the floor. It was another blow to her ego that it had ended up landing face up. From the place where she sat she could still see that red mark perfectly. However, it seemed at least a tad bit less horrifying now. Neville had that affect on her. He had a calmness about him that went well with her headstrong nature, somehow blending together to find a perfect common ground.
"You're right," she nodded, meeting his warm blue eyes once more.
"That's nice to hear," Neville said, seeming truly relieved that she thought his advice actually had merit in the situation.
Hermione laughed again and the sound was stronger now than it had been before. It was richer and more beautiful. Neville didn't care what other people said about her. She was flawless to him. She had a special spark to her. A personality that commanded the attention of everyone around her, yet a softness that spoke volumes. Just because she seemed strong didn't mean she never had her moments of weakness. Perfectly imperfect.
She stood up suddenly, causing Neville to rise as well in an effort to not end this moment alone with her any sooner than was absolutely necessary. He watched with cautious eyes as she moved around the table and passed him, reaching down to pick something up off the ground. Hermione turned to look at him, holding out the piece of paper for him to see before making a show of slowly ripping it to pieces.
Neville didn't know what to say at first. He felt proud of her in that moment. And he felt a strange emotion fill him at the thought that he'd helped her get to that point. He'd been the one to cheer her up and make her see that she was only human. Neville wanted to be the person who did that all the time.
When she was done, Hermione released all of the scraps from her hands, watching them drift to the floor like snowflakes. Then, she looked at the man in front of her and felt an overwhelming happiness. It was like stepping out of the fog and finally seeing everything clearly. "Neville, I really like you."
Neville thought his heart had stopped as she spoke, but he seemed to still be alive so he guessed it was an overreaction. "What?"
"I like you," she said, standing up straight and seeming perfectly confident as she went on. "Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?"
Unable to speak, he nodded his head eagerly. He'd never been asked out before, especially not by someone so . . . well, like Hermione Granger.
As Hermione walked toward him his breath seemed to catch in his throat and his stomach seemed to drop, until finally he felt her lips brush his cheek ever so slightly. She stayed there only a moment longer than what was appropriate, but it was enough for him to know she didn't mean "like" in a friendly way. No, she actually liked him.
She seemed so carefree, so happy -despite the redness of her eyes-, that he had to do everything in his power not to simply plop down in the chair behind him in disbelief at this new information.
"See you in Charms, Neville," she smiled, snatching her bag up from the floor by her previous chair as she strolled past him and toward the hallway, thinking about the upcoming weekend. It had taken her quite a bit of nerve to finally ask him out, but determination was something she was definitely not lacking in and she was pretty sure she'd never done something that felt so very right in her entire life. After all, even if she was human and it was okay not to be the best . . . failing was just not for her.
AN: This was actually written for a challenge at HPFF, but I figured I'd post it here as well. It's my first full-length one-shot. And I've only done one drabble ever before. So, tell me what you think! Should I stick with multi-chapters?