Violent antipathies are always suspicious, and betray a secret affinity. William Hazlitt.
Violent Antipathies
It was a typical Friday afternoon Transfiguration lesson- at least, as typical as one could be at Hogwarts.
Parvati was scribbling furiously, but Hermione knew it wasn't notes; it was probably a letter to her beau at Beauxbatons. Her suspicions were confirmed when Parvati, after looking around carefully, lifted the letter up to her face and pressed her lips to the tiny amount of empty space left, leaving a sticky lip-print.
Hermione rolled her eyes.
Dean was sketching a drawing of McGonagall lecturing Seamus- apparently he had Vanished his desk instead of his snail, and Neville was staring at his desk, face growing purple as he attempted to Vanish his snail non-verbally.
Harry was next to her, actually listening to McGonagall's lecture on the proper technique of non-verbal Vanishing, and Hermione felt a sort of parental pride.
And... Ron and Lavender were passing notes, looking sickeningly in love.
Hermione stiffened, and the blasted tears welled up. She had been doing so good- the lesson was almost over and she had not looked over at them- until now.
She raised her hand.
"Professor?"
McGonagall wheeled around, looking rather annoyed at the interruption, but her stern face softened a bit when she saw Hermione's miserable countenance.
"May I use the loo?"
McGonagall gave her a sharp nod, and Hermione left the classroom.
In the bathroom, she leaned her forehead against the cool glass of the mirror.
Why, Ron, why?
She knew that he had fancied her, she saw it in the way he grew so jealous of any boy who dared look at her.
So why, why, had he thrown it all away for Lavender?
A splashing sound interrupted her thoughts. Moaning Myrtle zoomed out of the toilet nearest Hermione, cackling gleefully.
"What-is-it?" Hermione forced through clenched teeth.
"So..." Myrtle said in an annoyingly conspiratorial tone. "Boy trouble?"
"I refuse to dignify that with a response," Hermione replied stiffly. Myrtle laughed. Hermione had never seen Myrtle so happy. But then again, Myrtle had never seen Hermione so sad.
"All boys disappoint you in the end," Myrtle said, suddenly solemn.
"I know."
And the girl looked at the ghost, and she felt almost a sense of camaraderie.
Which quickly dissipated as Myrtle, cackling gleefully once more, exclaimed, "It's really quite amusing, though!"
Hermione whipped out her wand and proceeded to use a spell Lupin had used on Peeves in their third year with excellent results. As Myrtle zoomed away through the toilet, her wails slightly muffled by the copious amounts of toilet tissue jammed up her spectral nostrils, Hermione cracked a hint of a grin. Just a hint.
And she quickly returned to the classroom feeling a bit more composed.
No one noticed her return except McGonagall, who said that Hermione looked a bit ill and did she need to go to the Hospital Wing? Hermione considered saying yes and escaping class, but she couldn't do it. It was against her very nature. So she sighed a heavy sigh and returned to her work.
When class ended, McGonagall beckoned her to her desk. Hermione immediately wondered if McGonagall somehow knew that she hadn't really needed to use the restroom...
"I have a favor to ask of you, Miss Granger."
"Anything, Professor," Hermione said, wondering what it could be.
"There is a student in your year who has fallen behind on their work. The student has not turned in his Transfiguration homework for two weeks. When I asked other members of staff, they told me that they also are not receiving work from this student. "
Hermione's mind raced. Curse it, Harry and Ron! She told them that this year was important-
"Regrettably, I do not have the time to to catch him up, so I told the student in question that I will provide a tutor for him. You are the only student I would trust with this delicate matter. It will entail at least three days a week to catch him up, since the pace has been especially quick this term. Are you willing to do this, Miss Granger?"
Hermione thought it over.
Harry and Ron would be busy with Quidditch, but she would find the time to tutor them, whoever it was. She reckoned it was Ron, though.
"Yes, I'll tutor him."
"I have told him to meet you in the library tomorrow at ten."
Hermione knew Harry and Ron would have protested loudly against being in the library on a Hogsmeade Saturday, so it wasn't them. She and McGonagall said goodbye, and Hermione had her hand on the doorknob, when McGonagall said, "One more thing, Miss Granger."
"Yes, Professor?" Hermione asked. She could hear Ron complaining to Harry that he had to go meet Lavender. She gritted her teeth.
"Please keep this to yourself only. No one is to know who you are with or what you are doing. I remind you once more that this is a matter of delicacy. "
"Yes, Professor," Hermione promised, puzzled.
Why did she have to keep it secret? And just who exactly was she going to be tutoring? Her thoughts a jumble, she left the classroom, much to Ron's relief. He immediately took off to find Lavender.
"Why'd she keep you after?" Harry asked.
"She wanted to congratulate me on a grade I got on an essay, that's all," she lied smoothly.
She was used to keeping things from the boys. In third year, it was the Time- Turner, in fourth, Viktor Krum. And her feelings for Ron were, (she thought), fairly well hidden until recently.
"Oh," Harry nodded. "I've got Quidditch- I'll see you later, Hermione."
He left, and Hermione was alone. She went to the library, her solace.