That comment brought a sly smirk onto the Gryffindor's face (one shockingly similar to the one permanently worn by the Slytherin she so hated) and she wiped away the tears still clinging to her face with a decisive gesture. She perched on the edge of a comfy scarlet chair, facing her friend.
"You're absolutely right Harry."
"Well I'm just glad you're seeing reason." Huffed the chosen one, leaving his face stricken with relief. He was about to get worried for his friend; what if that was the last straw? He and Ron had been concerned that Hermione Granger was going to snap. The truth was, Hermione was gradually showing a lot more hurt towards Malfoy's ever increasing taunts. People's snide comments and gossiping were clearly starting to affect her and he didn't want her to become insecure. What's a Gryffindor without confidence? But apparently they shouldn't've ever doubted their frizzy friend- it seemed maybe she was becoming stronger in spite of it all.
"But first I'm going to give myself a makeover."
There was a silence. Harry blinked.
"You're kidding right? That was a joke wasn't it?" Harry threw his hands up, "You surely aren't being serious?"
Harry was met with a pair of determined chocolaty eyes that seemed to be staring into his very soul, and he was quite utterly flabbergasted. Was this some kind of failed attempt at humour? The really rather awkward silence continued.
"You realise what happened last time you said that don't you? That damned makeover nonsense is what led us to this predicament in the first place! Or have you somehow forgotten that your hair is a vivid shade of swamp? Hermione have you gone mad?"
"Harry!"
"Well? Have you?"
Hermione let out an irritated huff and stormed to her bedroom to lie down. How dare Harry suggest she was mentally impaired! She was the bloody smartest witch of her age! She pulled herself up to stare at herself in the mirror. Letting out a relaxing breath, she realised she maybe have slightly over reacted. Okay maybe more than slightly. Playing through the conversation again in her head she concluded that she would have replied in the exact same way if it were her. It was a perfectly, most deviously perfect plan on her part on how to get back at Draco-snobby-better-than-everyone-else-hahaha-Malfoy. Shame Harry couldn't see that. Actually perhaps she should actually tell him her plot before she wrote him off? Her mind was a muddle recently. Insanity was probably a better fate than whatever befell her if her scheme backfired- again. She sighed and walked back down to the common room where she found him still seated. He looked quite…agitated.
"Okay Harry, just here be out." Hermione stated calmly; she didn't want anyone to get worked up again. The 'chosen one' could get into a right grump when he put his mind to it. His stubborn behaviour was probably what saved him in all his encounters with he-who-must-not-be-named. She could just picture it:
"And now, Harry Potter you will die." Voldemort would declare in a horrifying, blood curdling whisper.
"Actually I think I'd rather not." Harry would reply and then proceed to defeat the dark lord with a simple sassy spell for what was probably the third time.
She was quickly bought out of her day dream.
"Fine. But you better have a pretty convincing reason why you want to go through with this ridiculous plan all over again Hermione."
"It's okay, I understand where I went wrong now-"
"Perhaps styling your look off of mucus was a bad move?" Hermione proceeded to shoot a dirty look in Harry's direction.
"The plan didn't go right because I was aiming for the wrong goal! Harry don't you see? I just wanted to improve my looks before but now I know that that's not good enough. Why strive for better when you could strive to be the best? I, Hermione Jean Granger, am going to be the best looking girl in the whole of this castle."
Harry Potter nearly fell off his chair- he had thought too soon- the witch really had snapped
