So Not A Dream has basically, among other things, caused me to have a weird obsession with Zacharias, the Hufflepuff no one likes. Part 3 of the Introspection series

Words: 754

Written for The Golden Snitch - Prompt of the Day: (feeling) butterflies in the stomach

I do not own Harry Potter.

The Goddess Among the Peasants

No one knew why one Zacharias Smith had joined the DA, and he was fine keeping it that way. All they had to know was that he was there and that they should mind their own business for once.

As he approached the room where the meetings were held, the butterflies in his stomach reminded him exactly why he was so interested, and it certainly wasn't anything to do with saving the world like everyone else. Unbidden, images came to mind of bushy brown hair and large chocolate brown eyes.

Yes, it really was for the better if no one knew why exactly he had joined the DA. It wasn't like anyone, especially not her, really liked him at all. He knew that he annoyed everyone else. He knew they all disliked him and barely tolerated him. All his life, all people had ever done was tolerate him- it was nothing new.

Yet, he wondered what it would be like. To have friends, maybe even to be friends with her. He wasn't dumb, he knew there wasn't a chance in hell of him ever getting something so domestic and plebeian as friends. He was much too aware.

Zacharias entered the Room of Requirement, his eyes snapping to Hermione without his permission. He always knew when she was nearby, he could just feel it. It was really annoying, honestly, because he'd really rather ignore her existence. She just had this presence about her that commanded his attention, it didn't matter when or where.

He wondered if he knew just how breathtaking she was. Zacharias doubted it- he'd heard what those Slytherin girls called her, what they whispered behind their hands to each other. Hermione was smart, she would know exactly what they called her and probably would have taken it to heart. Everyone had found out last year at the Yule Ball that she could, in fact, turn heads with a sort of beauty that none could ignore. It had come as such a shock to everyone, but not him. He'd known that she was beautiful, he had eyes after all. It took a pretty dress for everyone else to see, even that idiot Weasley she was so in love with. Zacharias had known it long before.

Harry 'fighting-evil-every-two-seconds' Potter said something about learning Expelliarmus, like he hadn't mastered that one ages ago. Zacharias made some comment about it without really thinking about it, without bringing his attention away from the beautiful Gryffindor girl that stood slightly to his side. Overdramatic Potter said something about the spell saving his life or some other words the Hufflepuff cared nothing about, and they were off.

Zacharias tried, he really did. He tried to practice with the rest of them, to act like he cared even the teensiest bit about the spell, but every time he thought he had finally concentrated on his task, Hermione would pass by and his attention would be gone again, as would his wand. Whatever poor soul that had partnered up with him was probably really annoyed, not that Zacharias cared. He annoyed everyone, if he stopped they'd probably think something was wrong.

He gave a sort of smile, remembering back in first year, when she annoyed everyone too. Zacharias had talked with her a couple of times back then, for lack of any other company. After all, pathetic loners had to talk to someone, and who would talk to them but others just as pathetic? Not that he'd ever thought Hermione Granger pathetic, not at all. She was simply different, a Goddess among the peasants.

After she'd become friends with Weasley and Potter (neither of them deserved the company of a Goddess, and he hoped they remembered that every hour of their lives. He hoped that they constantly remembered how inferior, how tiny and pathetic they were in comparison) she hadn't spoken to him again. They hadn't been close, but it still burned.

But in his analytical mind, it made a lot of sense. She was a Goddess, and he was the most pathetic of them all, lower than the lowest peasant. Even the friendliest Hufflepuff didn't want to spend any time in his company, why would Hermione Granger want to?

His wand went flying once more, taking with it the last of any hope he'd ever had of becoming anything to Hermione, much less anyone else.

Even in the DA, an organization meant to be all about camaraderie and the power of friendship and other such nonsense, he was utterly alone.

Thank you for reading.