Title: The Wiggentree Wondertreatment
Summary: Hermione likes to be right. Now she just has to prove she's right about Harry's secret too. Because being right is only half the fun, if you're the only one who knows you're brilliant.
HP/DM, 8th year Hogwarts
Rating: T (to play it safe, since there's a tiny bit of swearing)
Author's rambles: This is a Drarry story in Hermione's PoV (because why not?). Mainly it's just a bit of fluff. It was fun writing it, though and I hope you enjoy reading it just as much.
Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry Potter, all characters belong to the brilliant J.K. Rowling
With the way Harry's head snapped up Hermione was struggling to keep her face blank.
„What?", he asked, the anxiety in his voice obvious. But then, maybe she was reading too much into it, because she expected him to feel like she'd had a week ago, when she'd forgotten about that silly cauldron essay.
Really, it hadn't been her fault with all the prefect meetings, McGonagall's mock-N.E.W.T.'s, applying for a work placement with the Ministry of Magic and Ron retelling for the 30th time how he'd saved the Quaffle in the game against Slytherin.
And Slughorn should have written it down on the whiteboard. He always wrote it down.
She cleared her throat. "I'm saying the papers don't care about scientific research any more. All they want is a headline. The Wiggentree Wondertreatment does sound quite good, I suppose."
"It's really only effective 20% of the time?"
This time she put the paper down and found Harry's stare. If only he'd been this interested in what she'd tried to teach him about the impact of wand flicking in Transfigurations.
"Well, that's when the bark is very fresh and the wizard or witch keeps chewing it for the entire time of exposure."
She thought Harry's cheeks had lost a bit of colour, but it might as well have been the cloud passing on the Great Hall's ceiling. Since the castle's restoration it had fun exaggerating the weather, especially when it came to bright days.
"So, realistically speaking I would estimate the effect to be somewhere between 5 and 10%. It's very unlikely for someone to have a Wiggentree nearby. And that's not taking the Bowtruckles into consideration."
"Hm."
Harry was looking down on his plate again. Averting his gaze like he and Ron always did when they were obviously bored with her explanations.
She pursed her lips.
"I'm sure Harry would rather talk about fun stuff, Hermione. Give him a rest. With the time he's spent studying the past weeks, he doesn't want to hear about treebark at breakfast too. Right, Harry?", Ron said.
Harry's dark hair just bobbed up and down in affirmation. "Hm."
"Oh, fine!" Hermine shook out the paper, rustling it more than necessary and very closely missed her cup of Pumpkin Juice. The urge to point out Ron's mistake was there, but she wouldn't yet say anything. It should be Harry doing the talking anyway.
"Why don't you tell him again how you prevented that goal, Ron? Since Harry was busy with the spare seeker, I'm sure he wants to hear it once more."
Both boys frowned at her and she pulled The Daily Prophet up to hide her scowl.
She was always right. She was.
Well, there had been that incident when she'd mistranslated one of the Runes and the story turned out to be mostly gibberish, with the characters throwing punches at each other instead of just having a partnership. But that was just a one time slip-up. This was different. She was right about this.
Peeking over the edge of the paper, she searched Harry's face as he was listening to Ron's explanation of how he'd kicked at the Quaffle, missed, but managed to hit it with his shoe in mid-air. There was a small smile around the left corner of his mouth, but it was the same one he used when he had to talk to Ginny.
She pulled the paper up again, hiding behind France contains Black Cat Flu Outbreak, before swiftly flipping to the next page. (House-elves are stunned - The 5 Best Spells for Spring-cleaning.) There wasn't anything holding her interest though, since the end of the war there rarely was, so she soon turned the last page and fumbled for her wand. The Daily Prophet instantly straightened and rolled up neatly and she placed it on the table between her plate and cup.
"Uhm, so, hypothetically speaking..."
Harry's voice was soft and barely distinguishable next to the heated argument Ron was now having with Seamus about how he hadn't just lost his shoe by accident. He was looking up at her, lowering the hand that had been running through his dark hair.
"Hypothetically", Harry said, a bit louder. "If one didn't use Wiggentreebark, is there something else they could do? I mean, what if someone found out he'd been chewing on birch instead? What then?"
Hermione quickly bit down on her lip to keep from smiling.
"Oh, I would suggest getting glasses first. The trees look nothing alike", she said.
Harry's sigh sounded frustrated and she cleared her throat again. "Ah, but there is something else I've read about. The requirements are somewhat hard to meet, but since we're speaking hypothetically ..."
"Hypothetically", Harry confirmed.
So she she told him.
Only grinning once when taking a sip of Pumpkin Juice out of her empty cup.
Narrowing her eyes at the plant in the corner Hermione kept her movements as slow and small as possible as she steadied her wand. She had been crouching there for some time now, careful about any sudden motion, so the plant shouldn't have any reason to strangle her. It wasn't a given it wouldn't still try, through. Disillusionment-Charms unfortunately did nothing for the Tentacula.
She yawned and slowly tilted her head, finding the moon almost at its zenith. It wasn't full today, but still bright enough to illuminate the Greenhouse and its many occupants. And the door which she expected to open any minute.
Because Harry would do it.
There was a small pang of guilt in her stomach, but she pushed it back. After all he should just have trusted her with this. Truthfully she'd been hurt he didn't. With everything they'd been through, he should know he could rely on her. Always. Even with a choice like this.
"I'm not touching that."
The voice was arrogant, even when muffled and Hermione snapped her eyes back to the place she'd been watching. Recognising the two figures, she felt as if McGonagall was praising her for mastering a difficult problem on the first try. She couldn't have stopped the smile if she'd tried.
She had been right. Of course she'd been right.
"We have to", Harry said unhappily.
"I'm still not touching that, Potter."
There was a short pause and Hermione thought she heard Harry sigh.
"We're back to that now? You know it's not my fault we're in this mess."
There was a snort and Hermione could almost see Malfoy lifting his eyebrows.
"I, for my part, didn't climb into a sick persons bed."
There was movement as Harry crossed his arms.
"You also didn't make me leave", he said in a low voice Hermione had never heard him use before.
She felt her cheeks warm as her mind started to wander and quickly pinched the back of her hand, blinking the moisture in her eyes away, just in time to see Malfoy shrug.
"I was bored. Pomfrey had me quarantined for 2 weeks. You were the only one able to visit for more than 10 minutes with your fancy heirloom cloak."
"Right", Harry said slowly. With his tone she could picture him rolling his eyes. "And that's why you never even looked at the chess set I brought you."
Another snort.
"I thought I told you, you're a terrible player, Harry. Possibly worse than Goyle. Kicking your arse in Wizard Chess is no fun." There was a pause again and by the sound of his voice he used after it, Hermione thought Malfoy had curled his lips into a smirk. "Lucky for you, kissing you is."
"Well, er, thanks to that I might have caught your Black Cat Flu", Harry muttered.
Malfoy moved closer and Hermione had to strain her ears to catch what he said next.
"Making you blush is fun too."
"Shut up. There's no way you can see that in here."
"Didn't say I could, Harry." Malfoy's voice was almost a purr and Hermione felt a shiver going up her spine. Because of the draught. A few of the upper windows weren't fully closed.
Harry cleared his throat.
"So, can we just get this over with?"
"I thought I told you, I'm not touching this thing."
"You'd rather explain to everyone how I got your flu?"
There was silence.
"What did you say happens when we tickle it?"
"Uhm..." Harry shifted as he searched for the words. "It, er, releases a sap. Sort of. Hermione said we both have to get covered for it to work."
The gravel scrunched as Malfoy was shuffling.
"Have you thought about Granger playing us?", he said then and Hermione went still. "I've never heard of this before. And Wiggentreebark worked for all of my relatives who've tried."
"Maybe they were lucky and somehow found a Wiggentree without Bowtruckles? The bark we use in class has probably seen Binns alive."
By Malfoy's humph Hermione knew he wasn't convinced.
"Look", Harry said. "I'm not looking forward to this either, but can we please just get it over with, Draco?"
Malfoy's sigh was a long one. "Fine", he said then and Hermione silently swished her wand for the protection charm.
There was an odd crooning noise, when their hands made contact with the plant's squirming surface and a few seconds later the stinksap hit her shieldspell as the Mimbulus Mimbletonia's boils erupted. Hurriedly she covered her nose with her robe.
"What is that, Potter?", Malfoy yelled. His robe, hair, hands and shoes were covered in liquid, but he had been clever enough to hide his face behind the garment. "You didn't say anything about it smelling like a Troll fucking died on us!"
Hermione swallowed her chuckle.
"Just pinch your nose", Harry replied, putting one hand in Malfoy's neck. "We can clean up the sap in a minute."
"If Granger set us up to this, I swear I'll consider rejoining the Death Eaters just to hunt her down."
Malfoy's voice was cutting and Hermione frowned, thoughtfully chewing on her lower lip.
Harry shook his head. "She wouldn't do that", he said with confidence.
Instantly her stomach dropped with guilt. And instead of standing, she suddenly found her legs unwilling to move, crouching down even lower. Absurdly. Since it made no difference with the spell concealing her.
Harry had pulled Malfoy's head down. And although parts of their faces were hidden behind the sleeves of their robes, Hermione knew what they were doing. What they had to do.
The kiss was a short one and must have felt somewhat awkward with both of them pinching their noses. So they broke apart soon and she watched Harry take a step back before he pulled his wand from his robe.
The sap vanished with his Scouring Charm, leaving only a faint trace of the smell behind.
"That should do it", Harry said. "I got covered in stinksap of a Mimbulus Mimbletonia with the person who likely gave me the flu. And did what got me infected to reverse it."
Malfoy snorted. But it wasn't the sneering sound she was used to, which made her want to grind her teeth even though she knew it wasn't a healthy habit.
"If you think that's what we did you should've been the one confined to a hospital bed, not me. Memory loss of this degree is quite serious, Harry."
The moonlight illuminated Harry's face just then and Hermione saw him smile.
"Remind me?", he asked.
She'd never buy his sad little pretence of a grin again.
"Hermione?", Ron's forehead was wrinkled and his nose a little scrunched, when he plopped down next to her on the sofa. "Do you think Harry's hiding something from us? He's not in the library like he said he'd be."
"Maybe you didn't check everywhere?"
Ron just frowned a bit more.
"Or maybe he got it mixed up. He's a little forgetful lately."
"You think he – are you blushing?"
"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Ronald. It's just warm in here." She shut the book with a plop, making the air hit her cheeks. Then she stood and put it on top of the pile which she'd neatly stacked in front of her on the desk. It conveniently made her turn her back on Ron.
She really wanted to tell him. It was like not being able to raise her hand, even though she knew the answer to the one question the professor never expected anyone to get right.
But she wouldn't. She'd sit there and listen until the class was told the solution. Even if she didn't know how many lessons that might take. They'd get there eventually.
"Why don't you just ask him, Ron?", she said and proceeded to pull out random books, which she put back after flipping them open once.
It was the right thing to do. She knew it was.
And Hermione was always right.
~~~ END ~~~