"DUCK!" Seamus Finnigan yelled moments before a fizzing firework was launched into the air. Acting on reflex, Hermione Granger responded without thinking; she was well used to these sorts of antics by now. She lowered her head and put her book safely under the desk so it didn't get damaged – just in time, it seemed, as the trail of fire soared barely above her hair and into the bemused face of Neville Longbottom. It exploded at the last minute and transformed his face into that of a duck.
Peering up crossly, letting her book re-emerge after deeming the space safe once more, Hermione scowled and glared at the Irish lad. "Seamus! For goodness' sake, that could've hurt someone!" She declared, standing up dramatically and slamming her fists on her desk. Her book bounced up and down, grumbling audibly. In response, Seamus merely chuckled and rolled his eyes.
"Hermione, these things are designed not to hurt people, you worry too much!" He slurred, breezily taking another sip of his fire whisky before turning back to Dean.
Rolling her eyes, Hermione diligently stormed up to Neville, reversed the charm swiftly, and then confiscated the last of the fireworks and sat back down at her desk to return to her essay, desperately trying to ignore the ongoing party around her in favour of completing her potions homework early. It certainly wasn't like there wouldn't be other parties to join in on.
This time, Gryffindor house was partying in celebration of their substantial lead in the house cup, caused by a few new first years and the Gryffindor Quidditch team's victory the previous week. Needless to say, both her best friends were in the thick of it. Smiling slightly as she heard Harry's bellowing whoop of success at whatever game he'd been playing, Hermione curbed the urge to march up to the two of them and send them to bed. After all, there was only so much they'd let her get away with, and both boys deserved a little fun from time to time.
Despite those thoughts, she still found herself hanging around the common room through the night, keen to make sure the revelry didn't go too far, and ready to assert her prefect status if anything got out of hand. She had, after all, already sent the lower years to bed and guaranteed that the more drunken students were sleeping their way to sobriety.
To begin with, she had half expected to be shunned for her efforts, knowing full well that most of Gryffindor frowned upon her uptight nature. But, for the most part, the Gryffindors around her left her completely alone to study and occasionally observe in peace. The only distraction she had to deal with was the sporadic high pitched giggle of one Lavender Brown.
"Won Won!" The blonde dragged the words out in a delighted tone. "Come here…"
Hermione flinched, staring intensely at the pages of her book, and trying not to look up at the new couple.
"Wait, Wonnie, I know somewhere a little more private…"
The bushy haired sixth year gritted her teeth, amazed at how well she could hear the couple even though they were whispering halfway across the room. It was almost like everyone else had disappeared. Her pen began moving again automatically in jagged lines, forming sharper words and blunter statements as their conversation went on.
"Lav- I mean Lavender, couldn't we just stay here a moment, the lads wanted to-"
"Woooooooonie!" The blonde moaned in her sugary way. Ron spluttered in response, clearly not wanting to leave.
'Good.' Hermione thought furiously. 'I hope he has a horrible time leaving the party!'
But she didn't hear the tell-tale creak of the portrait door opening, instead only the sickening sound of locking lips and appreciate whoops from surrounding onlookers.
Her quill stabbed through the parchment, effectively ruining a third of her essay. She continued to draw it out slowly and viciously, trying to pour out everything she felt along with the ink. The sounds of the on-going party barely reached her ears, so absorbed was she in her own world. It certainly came as a shock when she heard a crisp Scottish voice behind her.
"That's a rather vengeful look you're giving the parchment Miss Granger, pray tell, what in Merlin's name has it ever done to you?" Hermione sharply turned around to see her head of house directly behind her, raising a stiff eyebrow to the confused girl.
Looking around her, Hermione expected the party to halt immediately, and all eyes to focus on heir head of house, but no one seemed to notice her presence at all. She tilted her head in question at her professor and frowned, bemused at the fact that she was keeping herself hidden.
A small smile of mirth appeared on the elder woman's lips, and she gracefully moved to sit in the chair beside her student, electing to humour the girl for the time being. "A notice-me-not charm, very powerful. They shan't even register us talking." Opening her mouth to question the need for the spell, Hermione's professor beat her to it. "Sometimes it's far easier to observe and not be noticed with a spell to aid thee." She smiled knowingly. "Despite what most of my house believe, I know a lot more than I let on, and although I am not entirely against the idea of 'letting loose' once in a while, I like to be present to make sure that some mistakes are… avoided." Her sharp eyes skimmed to the left, and Hermione saw her flick her wand at a rather heated couple in the corner, who then seemed to be overcome with a need to re-join the party. "We wouldn't want any damaging mistakes to be made now would we?" She asked rhetorically, leaning back in her chair and again surveying the scene.
"So…. Are you always there?" Hermione asked, perplexed and a little alarmed at her head's espionage habits. Laughter was her answer.
"Heavens no! I do have other things to be getting on with you know." She said, peering down her long nose at Hermione. "But whenever there is activity in Gryffindor tower beyond 12 O'clock, I am made aware." She looked meaningfully at the bushy haired teen. "In all cases." Hermione blushed and grimaced, eager to push the conversation out of dangerous waters.
"So why haven't you ended the party?" The elder woman smiled coyly and took the hint.
"Well I do like to watch my cubs have fun from time to time; I usually let the party continue for as long as is sensible. I only stick around to make sure things don't get out of hand, and even then these past few years you yourself have handled that quite nicely." She commented, folding her hands in her lap primly, whilst again scanning the crowd.
Hermione unconsciously copied her movement, and a smile quirked on the elder woman's lips. "I do try to keep an eye on you all," she remarked sagely "even if at times it may seem to be the opposite case." She shifted again. "Now, are you going to tell me why it was that you so viciously attacked the parchment? Or do I have to assume that you are somehow hoping that your brutal movements will transfer through the parchment, into Professor Snape's person when he reads it? In which case, I am afraid my position as a professor forces me to condemn the thought, hypocritical as it may be." Hermione blinked, confusion clear in her eyes, and the teacher elaborated. "It was a small hope of mine for some time in my third year, that I may be able to rid myself of a rather boring Professor through mere thought alone… I did detest divination quite a bit." She explained, earning a raised eyebrow from the younger witch.
Indignant, the elder woman returned the stare with an equally sharp glare, until the young woman rolled her eyes and sighed, mouth twitching. She leant back, and slowly opened her mouth when her Professor suddenly flicked her wand again, this time at a certain red head and his giggling girlfriend. Sending them on their way, she turned back to the shocked witch. "Boys, what can you do with them, aye?" Minerva commented dryly, almost missing the pained expression that flitted across the young woman's face. "Ah. I see."
Her lips thinned into a grimace and she shifted uncomfortably. 'Why is it that I always seem to have to have this particular conversation with every female student that sits in these rooms?'
Hermione twisted, clearly feeling uncomfortably also, and Minerva decided she'd better get it over with. "Miss Granger, your happiness does not have to depend on one person-"
"Have you ever been through this?" Hermione interrupted. Shocked and caught off guard Minerva answered honestly.
"More than most know." She cursed herself immediately afterwards. Now there would be a never ending stream of questions, rumours, and oh the jo-
"Then how do I stop caring?" Again she was surprised, and for a moment she stayed still.
Hermione swallowed a lump in her throat. She needed reassurance, because whatever she was feeling at that moment was an awful dull ache that she didn't know would ever end. She needed to know it could end.
"You don't." Minerva looked uncharacteristically emotional. "But you learn to move on, or accept the truth for now." Her eyes lowered. "It continues to hurt forever." She saw the girl visibly wilt, and felt a stab of compassion. "But, at least for you, it's not too late." She reached out to grip her shoulder, trying to offer comfort and strength. "If you feel that strongly for Mr Weasley, then you will fight for him no matter what stands in your way." She saw the disbelief in Hermione's eyes.
"But what if it's not reciprocated?"
Minerva swallowed, her thoughts growing sadder as the conversation continued. "If you truly love the person you will never give up on them." She blinked furiously, and looked up, a fake grin on her face. "Besides, it's plain to see the boy's mad for you. I only wish he'd stop playing with Miss Brown's heart long enough to realise it." A true smirk came to her lips at seeing the young girl's blush, and whispered thanks. Minerva smiled, and feeling nostalgic again put her hand on her student's shoulder. "Even if he didn't reciprocate your feelings Miss Granger, you are an outstanding and brilliant witch, who is well worth more than anyone could give you. You have a heart of Gryffindor gold, and a sharp mind. Anyone would be lucky to have you. Love may be the most powerful thing in the world, but is something that can never be compared to itself. For the love of a friend is perhaps the thing that holds us up when romantic love for another tears us down." With that, she left through the portrait door and re-entered the common rooms to end the party in style, commanding her house to get to bed or 'face her wrath.'
She left the rooms that night feeling infinitely sad and alone, and sought out her best friend with a heavy heart, never knowing the profound impact she'd had on Hermione Granger that night.
She later observed the returned skip to her step, and the way she seemed to suddenly attempt to tame her hair for class, but what she didn't observe was the new self-confidence drive that she suddenly projected. The way she had moulded the young girl's mind into a woman of high faith. And what she would only find out later was the way her words alone would give the young girl the strength to choose between what was right, and what was easy, just one year later.
I dislike romance- it's a lot of soft mushy feelings I don't like to think about, but no matter what I write at the moment it crops up! Gah, I will let this roll it's course then hopefully return to what I like. :P