Warnings: Large amounts of female misogyny and misandry. Subverts the standard Weasley-bashing. (Mostly) Hermione POV.
Chapter 1
7th September 1995
Hermione woke up early, as per usual, showered, dressed and sat in front of her vanity to brush her hair, well before any of her roommates even stirred. She ignored the letters tucked in the corner of the mirror and focused on making sure her bushy hair became pin straight. Her parents could wait. They just didn't understand what it was like to be her in a school where she was smarter than everyone else, bar perhaps the professors. It was quite exhausting.
She looked in the mirror again, making sure her hair was tamed before placing her brush down neatly. It wouldn't do to become as vain as the likes of Lavender, Parvati, and countless other girls. Unlike them, Hermione had beauty, brains and Harry Potter wrapped around her finger. She wouldn't squander them.
Harry's face twisted into a grin as he met her eyes across the Common Room. "Morning Hermione."
"Good morning Harry. You've completed all your assignments, haven't you?"
"Yeah."
"Good. We'll need to keep up the momentum. O. are only eight months away and you have four years of Weasley damage to work through if you want to pass."
Harry opened his mouth momentarily then nodded. "I'll meet you in the library after dinner, if that's okay?"
"I suppose, since you have Quidditch," said Hermione with a frown. "You'd get much better marks if you'd quit that silly game. All that time around brutes can't be good for you."
Harry gave her a stiff nod before holding his arm out to her. "Right, shall we?"
"Yes."
Hermione kept a poker face as they walked to breakfast, but deep down she was beaming. Finally, she was getting the attention and recognition she so richly deserved. Even a month into their relationship, she and Harry were still attracting stares and whispers.
It was intoxicating.
Away from Weasley, Harry was an absolute gentleman. He didn't argue with her anymore. He listened to her every word and did as she told him without hesitation. It was perfect.
Frankly, she couldn't understand why Lavender was complaining about her relationship difficulties with Seamus. Of course, they weren't as smart as her and her Harry, but the principle was the same. Girlfriends tell their boyfriends what to do, and they did it. If they didn't, well, that's what withholding affection was for. Hermione knew that boys couldn't control their hormones—Weasley was a key example—and would be liable to caving sooner rather than later.
And speaking of sooner rather than later, her relationship with Harry was never a shock to anyone with sense. This of course discounted the Weasley family. While she could give grudging respect to how she handled her husband, Molly Weasley was thick as dragon dung if she thought that she was going to marry Ron, pop out seven kids and become his full-time punching bag. She had standards, after all.
The twins were equally baffled. The potion fumes and explosions had clearly gotten to their heads.
Ginny avoided her and Harry during the day and Hermione heard her cry herself to sleep at night more than once. It didn't bother her much; she was only friends with her because the girl latched onto her after the Chamber incident and she was too nice to put an end to it. No great loss.
Ron, to no one's surprise, handled it the worst. He sulked, glared at them every chance he got, and made catty comments whenever she and Harry were in the vicinity. If he wasn't a boy, she'd honestly think he had a mental illness or something. A daily dose of hexing put a stop to that and by the end of August he had taken to avoiding them completely. She almost wished he were thick enough to continue—there were some curses in the Black library she had read about—but figured at Hogwarts she and Harry would be able to slip away from him much more easily.
Of course, him being a Prefect and later Keeper wasn't ideal, but so far, they hadn't had any patrols together, so she considered that a plus.
"What's the matter, Harry?" asked Hermione midway through breakfast.
"Er, nothing."
Hermione looked between a distant Harry and Neville, Seamus, Dean and Weasley with narrowed eyes. "Honestly, Harry, you're going so much better without Ronald weighing you down. With V—You-Know-Who back I thought you'd be more proactive."
"I am!" said Harry, a touch too defensively for her liking. "It's just...all I've been doing is homework, essays, spell practice and Quidditch when I'm not in class. It gets a bit old, is all."
"Well, you'll have plenty of time for leisure once you've finished your responsibilities. Distractions can wait." She set her napkin on her empty plate and stood up. "We're going to be late for class."
Harry nodded. "You can head on without me."
"I said, we're going to be late for class, Harry."
Luckily for him, he'd picked on her tone. "Er, right. Do you want me to carry your books?"
Hermione gave a satisfied little smile. "That's very sweet of you Harry."
Then, looking over at Weasley to make sure he was watching, kissed Harry on the cheek. When she'd do this at Grimmauld Place he'd initially storm off or rant to the point she'd be forced to hex him. At Hogwarts she had to tone it down, but she'd still get a twitchy eye or a grimace.
What she didn't expect were the annoyed looks in her direction by the rest of the boys and a few of the girls. Ron had returned to eating the remains of his now-cold breakfast.
How disgusting.
Hermione huffed. "Let's go."
/-/
Lessons were the same as usual.
"Good work Mr Weasley. Five points to Gryffindor," said Professor McGonagall, her expression somewhat less severe than usual.
Weasley smiled.
Or rather, almost the same. At first it seemed as if Ronald would be on-track to failing all his classes, giving that she wasn't doing all his work for him anymore. He'd gotten several reprimands for incomplete work and Ds and As on what he had bothered to turn in last week.
Then it seemed like things were picking up for him. He started turning in his assignments and getting more As than Ds, and eventually Es, if she was seeing things correctly. For course, it wasn't up to her standards, but it was far better than anyone expected from the chess-obsessed ginger without her gracious help.
Hermione straightened up and flicked her wrist, performing the spell better than Weasley ever could.
McGonagall looked faintly impressed. "Take five points for Gryffindor Miss Granger."
Hermione exhaled sharply. Only five points? It should be at least ten! How McGonagall could lower her standards was beyond her. Still, she supposed that not everyone was as brilliant as her, and those with lesser skill needed a bit of encouragement as well.
It's the price one pays for having high standards, thought Hermione as Neville's attempt caused parchment to fly off his desk.
/-/
"I'd like to come along, if you don't mind?" said Hermione when Harry came down to the Common Room with his broomstick.
"To practice?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. His IQ must have dropped severely due to his proximity to Weasley in the dorms. "Obviously."
"But you hate Quidditch," said Harry, looking confused. "You said it was a silly game."
"It is, but someone's got to make sure you survive all that roughhousing."
Harry blinked a few times, as if what she had said was inane.
Hermione rolled her eyes again. "Either way, I'll enchant your gear with some warming charms—you could use some work on those by the way—and I'll make a jar of bluebell flames for you to hold once you're done. You're clearly going to need it."
"Thanks," said Harry, almost reluctantly.
"You're welcome. We'd better get going. The sooner that's over with, the sooner we can go to the library and start working on the three-foot essay Professor McGonagall assigned."
"I thought it was only two feet?"
Hermione shook her head in pity. "Harry, you know the Professors only take those that write more than required seriously. That's why I'm the brightest witch of our age and you aren't."
/-/
Weasley is having far too much fun, thought Hermione viciously as the freckled boy made another save.
It was bad enough that she and Harry had had to deal with the buffoon for four years and he'd become Prefect over Harry. Now Harry was still being exposed to his negative influence when they had just started dating.
She didn't have time for his jealous fits and ramblings about Quidditch. Her job, like always, was to find a way to make sure Harry kept out of trouble.
"Good save Ron! You're really killing it today!" said Angelina Johnson just within her range of hearing.
Weasley let out a hearty chuckle as he tossed the Quaffle back to her. "I reckon I can do this all day!"
"We'll see!"
Yes, thought Hermione, taking out her wand, we'll see.
/-/
"I can't believe what happened with Ron," Hermione heard Parvati say sadly later that night.
"Yeah, it's such a shame. It'll take him weeks to recover from the Willow," said Lavender.
"And on his first practice too."
Hermione's lips twitched as she stepped out of the bathroom. "What's this about Weasley?"
The girls looked between each other as if trying to figure out what to say. Hermione let out a long-suffering sigh. What was so hard about crowing over Weasley's misfortune?
"Someone hit Ron with a spell during Quidditch practice and he dove into the Willow," replied Sally-Anne when the others opted not to respond.
Fay Dunbar, a Quidditch-obsessed girl, nodded. "Now Gryffindor is out a Keeper. He was so good at practice too. I couldn't wait to see him play."
Hermione rolled her eyes. Ronald was mediocre at best. "So Weasley was careless. What of it?" His only use was a native guide during her and Harry's first few years, and that usefulness expired long ago.
Sally-Anne shook her head. "He was definitely spelled. The Professors are trying to find out who did it."
Now Hermione was a bit worried. "Really?"
"Yeah, they're saying it may have been a premeditated attack."
"Well, I think they're making a rather big deal out of nothing. I'm sure Weasley will be fine eventually."
"How could you say that? He was your friend!" snapped Fay.
"Was," said Hermione pointedly. "Now if you don't mind, it's been a long day and I'd like to get some sleep."
Parvati gave her a look of disgust that Hermione felt was unwarranted. It's obvious she's jealous of me and Harry, she thought idly before pulling her four-poster closed.
10th September 1995
"What's wrong with your hand, Harry?" asked Hermione as she finished her essay.
"Nothing."
She rolled her eyes and took his hand, pressing on the bandages hard.
Harry hissed. "Hermione!"
"Just as I suspected. I'll be right back. You'll need some Murtlap Essence."
After she had soaked and re-dressed his hand, she said, "You can't be the only one she's doing this to, Harry."
He sighed. "I suppose not."
"Do you remember what we talked about earlier? About you teaching?"
"Hermione—"
"She's torturing you, Harry, and on top of that she's not even a good Professor! How are we supposed to learn real defense when we have that…that witch in charge?"
"Hermione, drop it."
She huffed, vowing to bring it up again later when her boyfriend wasn't so upset. It was clear that he was the best person for the job. Harry was almost as bad as Weasley when it came to confidence, but unlike Weasley, Harry had no reason to be. He was so lucky he had her, Merlin only knows how he'd get on without her.
24th September 1995
Weasley had recovered from his tumble more quickly than Hermione had thought. Within a few weeks he was back in top shape, ready for the first match of the season. Hermione couldn't have cared less about Quidditch, but it did stop everyone from whinging about Weasley's 'unfortunate' injuries, and said game kept the lesser minds occupied from wondering what she and Harry were up to.
"You should really be teaching, you know," said Hermione after she perfected her shield charm.
They had been practising in an empty classroom that she had charmed to the gills against detection, which would keep the lesser skilled students out.
Harry shrugged. "Let's go over that one again."
"I'm serious Harry." This was the third time she had mentioned it, but Harry was oddly persistent in not listening to her. It was quite frustrating.
"I thought you wanted me to train with you one-on-one. Now you're saying I should teach everyone how to cast Expelliarmus and all that."
"The best way to get better is to practice, and teaching others will help you build on the fundamentals," said Hermione as she blocked a stunning spell.
Harry continued sending spells, as if by doing so he'd distract her from the conversation.
"Harry," she panted a few minutes later, "you haven't answered me."
He sighed. "I'll think about it, alright?"
Hermione smiled and started making plans for the first Hogsmeade weekend. She was certain Harry'd make up his mind then, and she knew he would listen to her.
15th November 1995
Something was not right.
Weasley was acting secretive. It wasn't obvious to the average person, but Hermione was far from average. Having the misfortune of being acquainted with him over the last four years helped too, she supposed.
Ever since Harry, Fred, and George was banned from Quidditch—of which Hermione had mixed feelings about—he'd spend most of his free time after their last afternoon class and before curfew elsewhere. Harry had stopped looking to meet his eyes across the Common Room and he wasn't as winded up about her and Harry. He'd even skipped dinner, something she didn't think was within the realm of possibility. As relieving as it was not to see his gaping maw filled with half-chewed food, she had to look out for the safety of the DA. She'd finally gotten Harry to agree to lead it and it wouldn't do to have all her hard work thrown away. The parchment, as she discovered far too late, only revealed the traitor after the secret was revealed. The only way to prevent the secret spilling in the first place was to monitor the most likely turncoats and Weasley was at the top of that list.
Hermione supposed she should thank Weasley for the chain of events that lead up to Harry's agreement, but really, she would have worn him down in enough time.
She huffed, tapping her foot as she waited for Weasley to show up for his patrol. More than once she questioned the wisdom of having someone so irresponsible in a leadership role. Harry would have done a much better job.
It was surprising, though, when Anthony Goldstein rounded the corner with something resembling defeat on his face.
"Anthony? What are you doing here?"
"Patrols got switched around," he said with a sigh, and Hermione could now see defeat was actually disappointment.
"Who requested a switch?"
"Weasley switched with Abbot for next Wednesday so Davies assigned us together."
Hermione frowned. How unusual. This had to be self-preservation on Weasley's end, something rather rare. She wished she had had the prerogative to interrogate Weasley during their last patrol, but that was months ago and she opted to ignore him instead.
"Why wasn't I told?"
Anthony looked rather uncomfortable, but answered, "It's no secret you and Weasley had a falling out. Davies and Stimpson want to keep the peace. NEWT year for them, you know."
Hermione got the feeling he wasn't being completely honest. "There's something else, isn't there?"
The boy shrugged. "Can we get started? I want to go to sleep before midnight."
The brightest witch of her age sighed and with that, the long patrol began.
14th December 1995
Hermione clenched Harry's hand as she watched Weasley sniff a bottle of…something in Spintwitches Sporting Needs before heading to the next aisle.
She was no closer to discovering what he was hiding than a month ago and felt rather out-of-sorts. Since when was Weasley able to keep a secret from her for this long? Well, whatever it was she was sure she would discover it soon. The term was almost over and Harry—and by extension, her—had been invited to go to the Burrow. It wasn't her first choice but it was better than heading home to her nosey parents. There was no way he'd be able to avoid her then.
"Alright?" asked Harry, rubbing her hand in what she assumed was comfort.
"Yes, I'm fine."
"Would you like to go to Tomes and Scrolls?"
Hermione nodded and added, "We also have to go to Scrivenshaft's and the Post Office; I need to send my parents their gifts." If only so that they would stop annoying her. It was as if they hadn't remembered she was nearly an adult.
"That should leave us enough time to stop at Three Broomsticks before we head back."
She shook her head, paying no mind to Harry's falling face. "I don't want to stay out too long, and besides, the food is better at Hogwarts. We also have Flitwick's assignment due on Monday and you haven't finished it yet, have you?"
Harry sighed. "No, I suppose not."
"Don't forget OWLs are less than six months away and you have quite a bit to still catch up on—you need an O in Potions to be an Auror."
"Yes, you're right. Shall we?"
Hermione smiled. It was moments like these she was glad to be dating Harry and not Weasley.
27th December 1995
"Weasley."
Said boy turned and looked at her, his eyes widening in surprise as she stepped into his room. "Her—Granger. What do you want?"
Hermione wanted to roll her eyes but it wouldn't do to drop down to his level. Just because his father was in the hospital didn't mean he had the right to be rude to her. She'd waited two whole days after Christmas to interrogate him, after all, because she was understanding like that.
"What are you doing?"
Weasley looked between her and his quill and parchment. "Writing a letter."
"To who?"
"None of your business."
"Give it here," snapped Hermione in a tone that would have had him acquiesce out of fear a year ago.
"No."
Hermione whipped out her wand, but Weasley was faster. Within seconds the parchment was burning and only ash remained soon after.
He non-verbally Vanished the ashes before looking at her, giving her a cold, blank look. Hermione simply raised an eyebrow. Clearly intimidation wouldn't work on Weasley anymore—he was simply unconcerned with her opinions.
And non-verbal magic as well! Weasley simply wasn't smart enough to learn that on his own. He had needed her help to do a good amount of his assignments over the years, after all! He was infamous for not wanting to learn anything he didn't think was necessary, which was most of Hogwarts' curriculum.
"Don't think this is over, Weasley," Hermione finally said, looking at the boy with disgust. "If you tell anyone about the DA, the curse on the parchment you signed is going to make those blotches on your face look good in comparison."
"Wouldn't dream of it, Granger. Now if you don't mind?"
Hermione gave him one last look before leaving the room, more determined than ever to find out what he was hiding.
20th January 1996
Hermione stormed out of the Common Room.
How dare he!
How could Harry not see how important this was? Their academic future was at stake!
Not for the first time she wished Weasley hadn't been invited to join the DA. He was always more trouble than he was worth.
"Come on Ron," came a female voice in a hushed tone. "Where's that Gryffindor bravery?"
Hermione immediately tucked herself into a nearby alcove.
"Hiding away until it's needed," replied Weasley in the same manner.
"Are you doubting my Charms?"
"Seeing that I can't see my own bloody hand, I'd be an idiot to say yes."
Language, thought Hermione, pulling the wall hanging to cover her body.
"Yes, you would."
"Oi!"
The two dissolved into chuckles.
"Why don't you try?" the girl asked.
"Nah, I'm rubbish at this spell."
"Nonsense, you just need more practice," said the girl. "Dad always says Rome wasn't built in a day."
"So do you."
"Trust me, you've got the movements right, you just need to want to be invisible."
"Hmm," hummed Weasley, and Hermione smirked as their footsteps passed by her hiding spot. That's one spell Weasley won't ever get.
They continued walking down the corridor until stopping, presumably, at the portrait hole.
"Guess this is it."
"See you tomorrow?"
"I can hardly see you now," said Weasley cheekily. Hermione rolled her eyes at the terrible pun. What this girl saw in him was beyond her.
A hand smacked fabric. "Prat."
"Thanks."
"You're welcome."
Hermione peeked to see a now-visible Ron talking to air. "Aren't you going to undo yours?"
The mystery girl sighed. "Ron, you know how our Houses would react. We just can't risk it."
Weasley nodded. "I understand. But I can't kiss you goodnight when you're bloody invisible. Looks right weird."
A pause, and then: "Well in that case…"
Weasley turned invisible again and their footsteps advanced towards her. "How about we find somewhere to be invisible together?"
Hermione could hear the grin in Weasley's voice as he said, "Lead on, my sneaky Slytherin."
The girl laughed again and their footsteps faded into silence. Hermione stepped out of the alcove and walked back to the portrait hole.
Interesting. Perhaps she wouldn't need the map after all…
14th February 1996
"I thought you wanted to sit with me for the interview?" said Harry as they stopped outside the Three Broomsticks.
"I did, but there's something I have to take care of today and it can't wait."
Any girl worth their salt would have their significant other do something special for Valentine's, and this mystery Slytherin would be no exception. Where would a secret couple who wanted privacy go if the castle wasn't an option?
Hermione was certain she figured it out. And so, after Harry had stepped inside, she made her way down High Street, past Dervish and Banges, and out toward the edge of the village.
It took longer than she would admit to make her way up the rocky mountain and she slipped more than once on the steep and stony path, but she eventually made to the narrow fissure in the rock that had been Sirius' hideout the previous year. Donning Harry's invisibility cloak and casting a silencing charm, she squeezed into it and entered the cave.
Weasley was already there, and the formerly-damp cave looked quite festive. Pink, white and red hearts lined the now-dry surface of the walls, and a picnic basket lay in the centre of a rather large and soft-looking blanket surrounded by candles. Weasley cast another round of Charms and the rather chilly air became warm and smelled of oranges. He took off his shoes and sat down on the blanket, drumming his fingers nervously on the basket.
Hermione wanted to slump down but she knew the sound would give her away.
This girl had better show up.
After what seemed like ages another person squeezed through the narrow fissure. Weasley stood up on high alert, wand in hand, until the invisible but not-inaudible figure revealed themselves, setting down the broomstick—Why hadn't she thought of that!—against a wall and taking off a cloak that had been Charmed invisible.
Weasley's suspicion faded in an instant. "Tracey!"
Hermione blinked. Tracey Davies?
The auburn-haired girl smiled, eying the cave in appreciation. "Wow Ron, you really went all out didn't you?"
The ginger blushed. "Couldn't ask you to come all this way for a manky cave, could I?"
"Well, I love it."
Tracey embraced Weasley and gave him a searing kiss, which he eagerly returned.
Hermione wanted to spew.
After they separated, Weasley helped Tracey onto the blanket and opened the picnic basket, taking out a variety of food and drinks. Hermione's stomach nearly growled as she saw the warm buttery bread and crispy roasted potatoes. The smell of beef wellington didn't help and she wished she'd eaten a bigger breakfast.
"Mary Berry cheesecake!" she said with obvious longing. "Oh Ron, you shouldn't have!"
Weasley waved it off. "I know an elf that was more than happy to help."
Hermione shook her head, wishing her glare would incinerate the loud-mouthed boy. Using slave labour to get into some girl's knickers, how classless!
The couple began to eat, chatting aimlessly about things that those that were intellectually-inferior did, sneaking kisses as they did so.
"Is Granger still giving you trouble?" asked Tracey as she cut into the cake, the juice from the berries falling down the sides.
"No, not since Christmas, though she keeps glaring at me during class—thanks—and trying to stalk me. Luckily Harry gave me the map, or else she'd always be on our heels."
Hermione resisted the urge to storm out of the cave and confront her boyfriend.
"Does he know?" asked Tracey before taking a bite.
Weasley shook his head.
She let out a hum of contentment. "And he hasn't asked?"
"The only time we can talk is during Quidditch practice and before bed, and there's usually too many people around."
"Ah," said Tracey.
Weasley took her free hand and held it softly. "Trace…"
"It's fine," said the girl, but didn't let go.
The three teens remained in silence.
"How's Potter's club going?" she asked, and Hermione perked up.
"You know I can't answer that, love."
"Ah, Granger's curse, right?"
"Can't answer that either."
Tracey smirked. "You'd make a decent Slytherin."
"With that git Malfoy around? Don't make me laugh. We'd have killed each other."
She snorted. "Granger's infinitely more annoying. You should see her in Runes, 'Look at me, I'm smarter than everyone else because I read a lot of books!' such a show-off, I swear."
Weasley chuckled and added, "It was worse first year. 'You're saying it wrong. It's Wingardium Leviosa, swish and flick'."
Hermione fingered her wand, ready to put the two in their place, when—
"Still can't believe Potter's dating her."
"Well between you and me, he doesn't seem very happy about it. Wish I could have done more, you know? I reckon if I was a better friend, last year, then maybe…"
"Ron, it's no good to live in the past. One lapse in judgement shouldn't define a friendship." She leaned against him, intertwining her arm with his. "Or any relationship."
He blushed. "Depends on the person, I guess. Some are just more forgiving than others."
Hermione grit her teeth. She wasn't unforgiving! If anything, she was exceptionally forgiving, considering he was a jealous, insecure prat! There wasn't one good year she could think of where he could be considered a good friend. Last year and the year before were prime examples, and who could forget this summer where he spent most of August snapping at her and Harry until she put a stop to it?
Clearly Davies hadn't gotten all the facts, or else this witch would be singing a vastly different tune.
Weasley set down his empty plate in sudden realization. "Blimey, I almost forgot!" He reached into the basket and pulled out a small wooden box. "This is yours."
Tracey opened it to reveal a carved glass necklace that glinted in the candlelight.
"I wrote Bill to help me make it over the holidays. You mentioned the dungeons get bloody cold during winter."
She nodded. "I could never get the runes right. I'm either too hot or too cold."
"Bill showed me how to add some extra runes so that it'll adjust to your body temperature. Give it a go."
She did and gasped. "Brilliant!"
Weasley smiled. "I'm glad you like it."
The formerly bushy-haired girl rolled her eyes as Tracey kissed Weasley and it devolved into a snogging session. Was that all it took? Harry was one of a kind, but clearly the girl could find someone better suited to her than Weasley.
Or could she?
Was she dosing Weasley with a love potion? Better yet, was Weasley dosing her with a love potion? It would certainly explain why she would kiss him—twice!—so eagerly, but that didn't explain why Weasley would make her a Rune-based Charm necklace when he was allergic to work and in a subject he had no training in. Either way, she would get to the bottom of this mystery.
Soon enough, the "couple" packed up their dishes and took down the decorations and enchantments surrounding the cave walls, leaving it cold and blank, albeit dry, once more. The candles were extinguished and put away, and Tracey Disillusioned their cloaks and broomstick before they squeezed out of the entrance.
Alone in the cave at last, Hermione stretched under the cloak and made her way out.