Hermione Granger did not like surprises.
Hermione Granger liked her tea with two sugars and a dash of cream, her uniform pressed and laid out before bed, and her daily schedule neatly written into her planner and color coded. She did not like surprises.
That was why, coming face to face with her surprise birthday party in the Gryffindor common room that Tuesday evening, nearly rendered her speechless. Nearly.
"My birthday is the nineteenth, not the ninth."
Bright smiles dimmed, eyes rolled, Seamus smacked Ron in the back of the head with a "nice going, Weasley" added in for good measure.
The balloons floating towards the ceiling drew her attention.
Red and gold. Very Gryffindor. She loved them. Especially the one someone, probably the twins, had made to look like a lion with her unruly mane of curls.
"Did you really not know th-"
"What happened here? Whose birthday is it? Hermione, why are you staring at the ceiling from the middle of the entryway?"
Oh. She was still doing that? She refocused on the common room. The party had continued, of course. They're Gryffindors, even it being a Tuesday and definitely not her birthday was a valid reason to party. She nearly smiled. Nearly.
With a swiftness that made both boys flinch and surreptitiously reach for their wands, she turned to look at the young man standing behind her.
"Harry, did you know that your friend Ronald planned this wonderful surprise birthday for me, today?"
The sarcasm was strong. Emphasis on words like your and wonderful let Harry know that he had a split second to come up with the right answer to this question. He'd rather face Voldemort.
"Err..." Her eyes narrowed and her hand drifted steadily towards the weapon tucked into the waistband of her skirt. "Isn't your birthday the nineteenth, though?"
He spat his question out quickly. Mentally praying to every deity in the universe that he was right and that the formidable witch in front of him wouldn't be too upset that he answered her question with a question.
There was silence. Very disconcerting in a room full of Gryffindors.
He opened one eye. When had he closed them? Looking down at the small witch in front of him, he relaxed. The dangerous glint in her eyes was gone and Hermione was beaming. Beaming. At him! He smiled back in both relief and a sappy kind of affection.
How could he have thought this beaming girl would hurt him? Hermione really was all things kind and gentle.
"Thank you, Harry. At least one of my best friends knows when I was born."
She patted him on the cheek lovingly and finally moved out of the entryway.
Her walk towards Ron was deceptively casual. The look she gave him calm and measured. Her words so softly spoken that even Harry, standing as close as he was, could not catch them.
But Ronald Bilius Weasley did. And hit the ground in a dead faint.
Hermione looked down at his prone form with an expression of complete surprise. And then her eyes narrowed. She'd hoped for something a little more dramatic since there were spiders involved. Apparently she'd have to refine her approach. She hated unexpected responses. They were basically surprises.
And Hermione Granger did not like surprises.
