"Sociologist Georg Simmel said that if human interaction is conditioned by the capacity to speak, it is shaped by the capacity to be silent. This is an interesting premise. Can anyone give me a reason why?" Hermione had struggled to catch up on the book they were reading for Muggle Studies, but once she had she found it absolutely fascinating. It was light chick-lit, but it was good. It played with the idea that the things you tell people and the things you choose not to tell people defined who you were as a person. Keeping things hidden would wear away at your heart and soul until you broke, but if you hid nothing you may drive away those you care about most. It was a tricky balance.
With trembling fingers, she raised her hand to respond to the professor's question.
"Yes, miss Granger."
"It's interesting because he's saying that we get along because of our ability to keep secrets. Not necessarily to lie blatantly, but rather by omission. In small groups, such as a family, you don't need to keep secrets because there is similarity and protection. But in a large group, such as a city, secrets become necessary for protection. In elementary school, muggle children are taught that lying it wrong and keeping secrets is wrong, but as we grow we learn from society that that was, in fact, a lie told by our parents. Without secrets, there would be no order in society."
"Very astute. Can anyone tell me why this premise doesn't apply to witches and wizards?"
It was Luna who was called on. "Secrecy is part of our blood. Little lies run through our veins. If we weren't so good at keeping secrets, muggles would know about us. So it's natural for us to maintain secrecy in all parts of our life." Hermione was unnerved as Luna stared directly at her. Could she possibly know that Hermione had been keeping so many secrets? Surely not…
"Precisely, miss Lovegood! Now, taking what we know so far, why is it easier for a muggle to tell a stranger their deepest secrets than to tell their close friends?"
"Muggles don't have to worry about being rejected by a stranger. If they told their friends their troubles, they might judge and abandon them. But they don't have any relation to a stranger so there's no fear of abandonment." Luna didn't wait to be called on that time. She met Hermione's eyes evenly before looking away.
Luna always seemed to have her head in the clouds, so it surprised Hermione to see her eyes so sharp. Luna knew her secret. What she would do with that information, Hermione didn't know.
"For homework, I want you to take a name from this hat," Professor Stormbane shook an old top hat at the front of the room, "and I want you to meet with them. If you choose a close friend, put the name back. I want you to meet with someone you don't know very well and I want you to tell them a secret. One you haven't told your friends because you're too embarrassed or afraid of how they'll react. Then I want you to write a five-page paper on how it made you feel to tell a secret and how it made you feel to receive a secret." Groans echoed throughout the class and Hermione didn't blame them. It was no doubt going to be a very uncomfortable experience and she worried about getting stuck with someone she hated.
And she approached the hat, professor Stormbane called out to her. "Miss Granger, actually I'd like you to partner with mister Malfoy. You live in the same dorm so it should be easy to do this project. Besides, a muggle-born and a pureblood. A Gryffindor and a Slytherin!" Her voice grew shriller as she became more excited.
Hermione glanced at Malfoy who had been approaching the hat. He scowled and pushed past her and out the door. How delightful, she thought crossly.
It was that evening that Hermione noticed how big her clothes had gotten. Not how big they've gotten. How small I've gotten. She frowned at her reflection in the mirror. Her once snug sweater hung from her bones. She hadn't even realized it was happening, it had been so gradual. She felt disgusted at her reflection. She remembered the soft curves she'd once adored and felt forlorn. She'd been eating the bare minimum to avoid fainting again. Why? It had seemed so important before but now… Now it seemed so silly. She'd been trying to make herself more beautiful so she'd be worthy of Ron. Why would she do that?
Thinking back, the past months were a blur. Her thoughts and reasons were all jumbled and confused. She could remember the pain she'd felt. She still felt it, but it was less. It had changed. She had blamed herself for the people around her, but that was wrong. She'd been smart and beautiful and yet she'd allowed others to make her feel worthless. Why did she do that?
She wanted to scream in frustration. She wanted to smash everything in her room. Instead, she put on a sweater dress and headed to the great hall for dinner. It was time to start eating again.
She'd been careful about how much she ate. It would do her more harm than good to stuff her face immediately, but she did eat until she was full. Harry and Ginny sat a little way down the table from her, but Ron was nowhere to be seen, a fact that pleased her.
She'd arranged to meet Malfoy in their dorm to work on the floor plan for the ball and, for the first time, felt a glimmer of excitement at diving back into school-related activities.
When she opened the door, she was surprised to see Malfoy already there and laying out the large parchment they'd set up as their plan.
"There you are, Granger. Here I was thinking I'd have to do this all by myself as well." There was a sharp edge to his voice and Hermione felt bad for leaving him all the work. She had to admit to herself that she was very surprised with how well he'd managed and how much he'd done.
"I'm sorry," she replied, "I'm here now."
"Are you?" Hermione was taken aback by the kind tone of voice and concerned expression. An instant later, he was scowling again.
"What do we have so far?" she asked, walking to where he stood and looked down at the parchment.
"I thought we'd put the tables in this section and the stage here. If we charm decorations to hang then we don't need any columns."
"Which would open up the space. I always thought it was so strange at the Yule ball that they would put all those ornate pillars."
"I don't know much about flowers so you choose the centerpieces and floral décor."
"Poinsettias are the most well-known Christmas related flower, but I think black hellebore would be more elegant."
"Black flowers for Christmas? You really have gone off your rocker."
"They're not actually black, Malfoy," Hermione snapped, "they're white. They are poisonous though…"
"And here I thought we could have a civil conversation." Malfoy retorted. He glared fiercely at her and she was disconcerted with their intensity.
"Why…" She didn't finish her question before Malfoy cut her off.
"If I have to tell a secret to someone I'd rather it be someone I think will keep my secret rather than rattling it away to Potter and Weasel."
"I wouldn't… I mean, I can keep a secret. And I haven't really spoken to them anyway. Not since…"
"He's dating Lavender Brown."
"I thought as much." It still stung, to hear it said. She'd suspected it since before they broke up. She was pretty sure Ron was cheating on her. It didn't much matter anymore. They were over and she couldn't keep dwelling on the past.
"Are you alright now?"
"Yeah. I am."
"Good. Because I refuse to be responsible for your wellbeing."
"I think I know your secret, Draco."
"And what's that?"
"You're not as bad as you want people to think you are."
