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I own nothing but a Slytherin jersey and some Marauder socks.
Track to listen to while reading: Say, John Mayer.
"~Walking like a one man army, fighting with the shadows in your head, living up the same old moment, knowing you'd be better off instead...if you could only...~"
The weeks dragged on, and the classes at Hogwarts with them. Early September turned into October. The weather cooled down quick, promising a brutal winter creeping up on them.
The classes themselves were a mix of good and bad. After the ruining it took at the hands of Malfoy, Care of Magical Creatures was as good as dead. They spent hours after hours gazing at some kind of slimy worm creatures. Potions was a nightmare as usual, and Divination was nearly as horrible. Hermione hated the fact that they were wasting time and weren't really LEARNING anything, and honestly, Trelawney irritated her.
The only good thing about that class was when they had it with the Slytherins. Harry was Trelawney's favourite target for her morose predictions, and he had as little patience for her as Hermione did. She was convinced she was going to end up cross eyed from trying not to die laughing at him and his antics day to day.
Hermione was an eyelash away from being run totally ragged, with the Time Turner classes and her usual schedule. Even still, she found time to join a Book Club, made up of mostly Ravenclaws and a few other studious Gryffindors.
She and Harry stopped seeing each other as frequently, partly because she was so busy and also partly because the Quidditch season was about to start, and as the Seeker for the Slytherin Quidditch team most of his time was spent practicing.
And their captain, a trollish seventh year named Marcus Flint, was absolutely relentless. Someone walking by the windows that looked out onto the pitch could hear him screaming at his team, and whenever Hermione and Harry were able to scrape a moment, he was always filthy, freezing and stiff.
Hermione wasn't really a Quidditch person, but the sport was one of the only topics Harry really liked to talk about and she tried to pretend like she understood, even though when he got into the positions and plays and rules she got HOPELESSLY lost.
Even still, she continued helping him with his reasearch of Sirius Black like she promised, pouring through dusty Ministry books in the library and old arrest records. It was slow going though, and tedious.
By the time the first Hogsmeade trip rolled around, Hermione was sorely in need of a break.
«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»«»
On the day before the visit, Herbology let out a few minutes early, so Hermione arrived a bit too promptly to Transfiguration. The Slytherins were just leaving as she walked in, and she ignored Malfoy's nasty look as she passed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Harry talking with McGonagall by her desk.
She didn't mean to eavesdrop, she really didn't.
"But Proffesor-"
"I'm sorry Potter, but the rules are clear. No parent or guardian signature, no visit to the village."
Hermione stared down at her desk, making a conscious effort not to look. From his tone, she thought Harry sounded angry, and a bit desperate.
"It's not my responsibility if you forgot to have your Aunt and Uncle sign for you, Potter."
"That's not how it happened! They wouldn't have done it anyway and you know I didn't go to the Malfoy's after I left, Proffessor please-"
"I'm sorry Potter, but that's my final word."
The only sound after that was the door being kicked closed. Hermione literally felt the heat of his anger on the side of her face as he stormed past her and out. She peeked up once he was gone in time to see McGonagall pinch the bridge of her nose and sigh, but by that time the other Gryffindors were piling into the room.
Hermione didn't see him for the entire rest of the day or most of the next morning. Eventually, everyone was rounded up for the visit to the village, and after a frisking by Filch, she was headed out the front doors.
The wind was biting and sharp, tossing her brown curls around her head, and the sun was high and bright in the pale blue sky. Malfoy crowed happily behind them, completely unaffected by the fact that his "best friend" was missing from their group.
Ron and Neville were bouncing with excitement, and she tried not to let it show how much the conversation she'd witnessed affected her. She felt sorry for Harry, and slightly guilty. McGonagall could have shown a bit more understanding for his situation...
"Oi, Hermione, what are you so down for?" Ron asked, nudging her in the shoulder. "This is great! We finally get to go to Hogsmeade and see what's down there! Fred and George can't rub it in my face anymore!"
Neville nodded enthusiastically, and Hermione cracked a smile for their benefit. "Right, right, course."
They got to the village, and it was everything that everyone had promised. Hermione, who had never seen a place where wizards lived together, was blown away. It was absolutely amazing- the shops, the post office, the pubs.
Ron dragged her into Honeydukes to oogle the sweets. Her parents were dentists and it really wasn't her thing, but even she had to admit that the candy was fantastic. While she weighed a HUGE bar of snow white chocolate in her hands, her guilt came back to attack her, and her heart sank as she thought of her friend sitting in the castle, alone and angry.
Because he was her friend, right? They were at that level now, yes? She liked to think so. On a sympathetic impulse, she bought the chocolate and tucked it into her bag before Ron and Neville pulled her out and into Zonko's.
«»
Hours later when they returned, it was a few minutes before the Halloween feast. Hermione stored most of her bags in her dorm and wrapped her sweater tightly around her arm, then raced for the portait hole, ignoring Ron calling her back.
After her, Neville's and Ron's adventure during second year with the Chamber of Secrets incidents, she remembered the way to the Slytherin common room, and that's where she was headed. (She still hadn't gotten up the nerve to tell Harry that she and Ron had actually interrogated him and Malfoy as Crabbe and Goyle using Polyjuice potion, when everyone had thought that he was the Heir of Slytherin.)
Feeling quite daring, she ducked behind a pillar right at the mouth of the stairs that led down into the dungeon, hidden from the Slytherins that were going to the Great Hall. She was waiting all of five minutes before she heard his voice (damn her stomach, and damn his smooth tone!)
She peeked her head out and hissed a quick psst! before hiding again, but she saw his familiar green irises dart to her spot and back, and heard him say-
"Er, hold on Daph, I think I forgot my wand. Go on ahead."
Greengrass and Knott trooped forward, and once they were out of sight, Harry dashed behind the pillar. "What are you DOING down here?" he hissed, looking annoyed.
"I have something for you," Hermione whispered, but he cut her off with a shake of his head. "Not here. Come on."
He dragged her from behind the pillar and ushered her into an unused classroom, closing the door behind them. Once it was locked, his shoulders relaxed. He dragged a hand backwards through his hair and straightened his glasses.
"The sixth and seventh years were still in the common room- they like to show up late." he explained, once more speaking in a normal tone. He gave her a strange glance and frowned a little. "How did you even get down here?"
Hermione unwrapped her sweater and shoved the chocolate at him, fighting not to blush and ignoring the question. "Here," she said abruptly, "I, uhm...I got this. For you, in the village. Because you weren't there." He cocked an eyebrow, and she immediately felt stupid.
"Why?"
She rolled her eyes and propped a hand on her hip. He might not be used to people giving him things, but honestly, she wasn't trying to poison him.
"You want it or not?"
He reached for it, then hesitated and pulled his fingers back slightly, suspicion glinting in his eyes.
"What?"
"My...my cousin would sometimes...nothing."
"Malfoy?"
"No. Forget it." He grabbed the bar after a small second and carefully unwrapped it, scrutinizing it before taking a bite. His lashes fluttered, and he made a sound of appreciation. Hermione smirked, and he turned away a bit.
"...Pretty good. Er...thanks..."
"That sounded almost painful." Hermione huffed, and he scowled at her. "Whatever."
"You..."
"What?"
"You got something in your hair," he informed her. She frowned and gave her head a shake. "Is it gone?"
"No. Here-" To her shock, he quickly reached over and pulled the offending item out of her curls. His hands were cold, and she told herself that was why she shivered. It was an owl feather, probably from the Hogsmeade post office.
He ate the rest of the bar in silence, and Hermione tried not to notice the way his pink tongue would poke out and lick melting chocolate from around his full lips, even though her guts gave a heated lurch every time she caught the movements.
She also didn't notice how they were alone, together, in a quiet, empty room in the dungeons. Somehow, it was different than in the library or the Owelry- closer, more intimate.
When he was finished, he tossed the paper in the bin and wiped his hands on his pants. Green eyes met brown briefly, and then they both looked away, aware of the awkward atmosphere.
"Um...you know..."
"Y-yeah...it's fine."
"Mmhm. We should...we should go."
"Yeah," Hermione breathed, but made no move towards the door. "Ron'll be wondering where I went."
Something flickered in his eyes, but it was gone before she could get a good look. "Is he your boyfriend or something?" Harry sneered suddenly, making her jump.
"No! Where in the hell did you come up with that?" she yelped, incredulous. He bristled, but laughed sharply."You're always hanging off his arm, even though he treats you like dirt. I was just wondering."
"Well don't." she snapped, crossing her arms. If she didn't know any better she'd have thought he was jealous, but that was ridiculous. His throat worked for a minute, then he shrugged. "Fine. Not like I care."
"Good."she said coldly. Confused, and strangely hurt, she pushed herself up and stalked to the door. "Goodbye, Potter." It was torture not to look back as she walked out.
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