Author's Note: 12/12/2021 grammar check
On Sunday, when Hermione awoke, her room was cast in dim grey light interrupted by brilliant floods of lightning cascading through her solitary window. A highland storm brewed in ominous black clouds over Hogwarts, and fat droplets of rain splattered against the thin, ancient panes of glass in echoing plops. Deep, clapping rumbles of thunder sounded in the distance, and Hermione pulled her laundered tartan in a tight wrap around her slender shoulders as she slid her socked feet into her cozy slippers, checking her timepiece with a quirk of her dark brow.
It was already noon, and she'd long overslept.
She showered in haste as her stomach reminded her of its need for nutrition, and she patted her body dry with a fluffy beige towel as she reached for her bottle of cocoa-scented muggle lotion, applying a thin layer of moisturizing cream to her warm and pinkened skin. She smoothed a small globule of amber perfumed oil through the ends of her soaking curls, casting a quick drying charm at her roots and frowning at her reflection in the mirror as the frizz emerged.
No matter, she thought with a blasé lift of her shoulder as she continued to don her white sensible cotton undergarments, shrugging into her bulky Bulgarian sweater and pulling on her sheer stockings and black skirt. It was raining anyhow, and her unruly mane wouldn't stand a chance of survival against the humidity in the castle.
Downstairs in the Great Hall, she met with her usual Sunday lunch group and settled in at the table to sate her famished appetite with a toasted ham and cheese sandwich with a bowl of creamy potato soup. She felt a desperate need to speak with Ginny in haste about her newfound discovery in her potions partner, but she wanted to do so in confidence and away from Neville.
Neville didn't possess a reputation as a gossip, which was part of the reason that Hermione felt such an affinity towards him. Still, she also knew that he would appreciate being excluded from the titillating tidbit of information, and thus she exercised an extraordinary amount of patience as she held her tongue.
After Neville nodded to her in greeting and read aloud the quidditch match results in his usual fashion, with no promising news of Viktor's return to the pitch, Hermione sulked as she dipped her last bite of bread into her soup and sighed as she rested her delicate chin onto her fist, frowning at the ensorcelled ceiling and the raging storm overhead.
No quidditch practice today, she thought with idle interest, hazy memories of Draco and the Slytherin team in their practice uniforms popping into view behind her eyelids.
She was broken of her reverie by an explosion of wind and noise that erupted through the massive wooden double doors as a swooping, soaking, enormous grey owl soared overhead in a beeline for her table. Its mighty wings flung rivulets of water onto plates and unsuspecting students who ducked for cover as it flew overhead, landing with a thunk on the wooden bench beside Hermione, and shaking its proud feathers as it thoroughly drenched the seat and her side. Hermione cast a quick drying charm as her flustered brain caught up to the present.
Dulovo – Viktor's great grey owl.
The proud creature extended his leg towards Hermione's shocked frame, and she reached with shaking hands to untie its ribboned parcel that was protected from the elements by a well-cast drying charm. The grey winged creature stole bits of food from different heaping plates with his sharp yellow beak, picking and shredding at strips of salted meats, before lifting into the air in a silent billow and exiting the hall in a gust. Ginny tittered as she swept the bird attacked plates to the middle of the table where they vanished to the kitchen, her green eyes focused with intent on the parchment in Hermione's hands.
"What does it say?!" Ginny squealed with excitement as Hermione tore open the wax seal on the letter, her toffee-colored eyes scanning the lines and her dark brows furrowing as she registered what was written.
"It's from his mother." Hermione replied in a slow, surprised cadence, her brows arching towards her hairline as she continued to read, "She says that Viktor has a concussion and that she's writing on his behalf. He isn't sure when he'll be cleared to play, but he appreciated my letter of support, and he would very much like it if I… if I…" she bit her full bottom lip as her eyebrows furrowed and a splotchy warm blush crept up her neck and cheeks.
"Yes?" Ginny asked without an ounce of patience, leaning forward on the edge of her seat and gripping the bench in a tight, white-knuckled grip, "If you what?!"
"He would very much like it if I would send him a photograph," Hermione finished in a rush, unable to prevent a girlish grin from erupting on her lips as she shared a happy bounce in her seat with a squealing Ginny. Neville deposited his fork onto his plate and folded his napkin on the table with quick precision, rising from the table with a screech from the bench and grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl as he backed away towards the doors. "Well, ladies," came his blushing address as he continued his safe retreat from the squealing spectacle, "Lunch is always a pleasure, but I have… homework. Right."
Ginny snatched the letter from Hermione's grasp and read it aloud with rapidity, her voice increasing in pitch as she came to the end of the request and her fair skin turning a reddened hue that was as brilliant as her hair as she fanned her cheeks with her hand.
"Merlin, Hermione. He is besotted if he's asking his mother to write you for a photograph," she giggled, holding the letter in a tight vice against her chest and crumpling the parchment against her robe.
"Careful," Hermione warned with a smile, holding out her expectant hand as Ginny passed it over the table so that Hermione could fold it into the safety of her beaded satchel.
"We'll ask Colin for his camera!" Ginny enthused with a quick clap of her hands, rising in an abrupt motion to stand and waving for Hermione to follow her away from the table, "Come on!"
As Hermione swung her satchel over her shoulder and rose to follow, a beaming smile lighting up her face as she swept her mane of curls over her back, she caught an unexpected flash of multi-colored movement across the room. She paused, transfixed, as the Rubik's Cube that she'd given Draco was passed around the Slytherin table. "Wait a moment," Hermione called in an alarming voice to Ginny, who faltered in her quickened step and whipped around in confusion, her perplexed gaze following the Head Girl's line of vision towards the Slytherin table.
"Where did they get that?" Ginny asked with a disbelieving laugh, folding her arms over her petite chest and huffing with derisive amusement as Gregory Goyle tapped twice on the colored cube with the tip of his wand, "Is he trying to enchant it?"
Hermione snorted at Ginny's dry remark and watched with fascination as Goyle handed the toy over to Theodore Nott, who twisted it a few times with his suntanned fingers, his pointed, angular face rapt with confusion as he tapped the plastic edges on the table. Hermione's eyes widened with incredulity as Theodore inspected the Rubik's Cube in front of his furrowed, handsome face like it was indeed a magical box that could be tinkered with to perform a trick.
The Slytherin's lips twisted at the side as he held the puzzle in front of Pansy Parkinson's face for her review. Pansy shook her head at Theodore and lifted her proud chin in a dismissive fashion as she gave him the side of her cheek, her attention held in deep conversation with a pretty, fine-featured blonde witch whose name Hermione didn't register. It was with annoyance that Hermione's immediate thought was to compare the color of the witch's hair to Draco's, although the girl's silken strands were colored golden like the sun, whereas Draco's locks were spun of ashen moonlight, and Hermione grimaced as she decided that she'd perhaps read one too many romance novels.
"Granger!" Blaise Zabini's deep voice bellowed out from across the room through his cupped hands, startling Hermione and Ginny as they realized that they'd been caught staring, "Come show us how this thing works!"
Ginny shared a disbelieving expression with Hermione and shook her flummoxed head. "Did you give that to them?" she half-whispered at Hermione's side as they started to walk with slow hesitation towards the Slytherin table for the very first time in their lives. Curious Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws turned to watch the unfolding development with speculative murmurs as the girls passed their tables.
"I gave it to Malfoy yesterday," Hermione whispered in reply, her bewildered expression sobering as they stopped several feet away from the green and silver bedecked table – the curious gazes of half of the Slytherin house transfixed on their awkward intrusion.
Hermione held up her expectant hands towards Theodore and raised her brow at him, and he tossed her the cube in a lazy, purposeful throw that was a little too far to her side to catch with ease, his tan face cracking with a white-toothed grin as she fumbled with her awkward hands to secure it against her side. She held the cube in a tight grip as she addressed the table.
"Did Malfoy tell you what it is?" She asked with a flush as she turned her embarrassed gaze from Theodore to Blaise, who each shrugged a robed shoulder in response. She acknowledged that both wizards were attractive in their own way – Blaise, with his ebony skin and wide, laughing mouth – and Theodore, with his angular face and smirking expression. Although their personalities left her wanting, which she noted was a common theme in the Slytherin house.
"He said that it was magical," Goyle interjected with a stern, sour frown from around a bite of ham, interrupting her thoughts as he chewed with his mouth agape, "But I checked it with my wand. It isn't."
Ginny's loud snort erupted from Hermione's flank at the ill-mannered boy's remark, and Hermione dug her pointy elbow into Ginny's ribcage as she shot her a warning glance. "It's a non-magical toy," Hermione clarified in a clipped tone, effecting her distinctive Head Girl voice as she continued, "A mathematical puzzle. The game is to align each face of the cube with its group of color."
She tossed the toy in the air to Blaise and watched with mild trepidation as he held it up in his dark fingers, his amber eyes narrowing as he examined the patterns on the cube's faces. Blaise held a reputation as a careless intellectual, an intelligent wizard who couldn't be pressed to attend lectures with regularity and yet who seemed to do well on exams regardless. Hermione thought he was wasting his talents and that he was capable of much more than what he showed, as his questions in lectures were sharp and spoke of a mind that was well-read and intriguing, albeit bored. Although he did occupy the chair behind her in Professor Vector's arithmancy lecture, so he did put forth some level of effort into school.
"Show us," Blaise challenged, nodding his dark, short crop of curls at her and tossing the cube in a direct arch to her chest. She caught it with ease this time and shared a wide-eyed look with Ginny, who lifted her dainty shoulder in a shrug as if to say why not? Ginny had witnessed Hermione's parlor trick a time or two.
Hermione sighed as she resigned herself to a show and tell demonstration, cracking her neck to the side and rolling her shoulders in a backward stretch. She flexed the fingers in her right hand and cracked each joint on her knuckles in preparation. It was an entirely unnecessary gesture, perhaps, and her Slytherin audience raised their brows in bewildered expectation, but the movements increased her confidence, and thus she quirked her lips in a small smile.
"Alright," she huffed, taking a deep breath and whirling her nimble fingers in a flurry of rapid clicks around the cube's edges, her breath held in her chest as she spun the faces into their final positions. She held up the completed puzzle seconds later to the open-jawed expressions of the Slytherins, her breath returning as she grinned with all of her teeth.
"Incredible!" Theodore roared as he banged on the table with the open flat of his palm, jostling the nearby water glasses and earning a cold glare from Pansy at his side, who promptly scooted farther down the bench and closer to the shoulder of the unknown witch, huffing in annoyed confidence as her dark chic bob swung to cover her cheek as she whispered into the golden blonde's ear.
"But how did you do that?" Goyle asked with heightened confusion, his plump fingers scratching at his meaty, jowly jaw like Hermione was a mysterious creature that he'd never seen before, as he lost all of his manners and pointed at her with his fork prongs filled with a half-eaten slice of ham.
"It's magic," came Blaise's white grin, lighting up in a brilliant, contrasting gleam in his dark face. He held up his ebony hands as he nodded for Hermione to throw the cube back to the table. She tossed the toy in a clumsy arch to Blaise and tucked a stray curl behind her ear as he caught it without mocking, a small smile quirking on her lips as he continued his praise.
"Well done, Granger," Blaise smirked, looking past her shoulders as Draco approached the table, his athletic towering form striding to a seat on the bench in Hermione's view. He was wearing his fitted quidditch uniform without the robe as if he was waiting for the storm to pass, and Hermione blushed as her eyes swept his trim physique in an unrestrained assessment. "Are you showing off again, Granger? I thought you only did that for me," Draco smirked as he lowered his fit haunches into a tight squeeze between Pansy and Theodore, reaching for a water glass and watching Hermione with narrowed eyes as he took a long sip. The scene reminded her so much of one that she'd shared with Viktor in June that she felt flustered where she stood and shuffled on her feet at the resemblance and at Draco's public teasing.
"I was asked," she replied with a breathy laugh, ignoring the bewildered looks from her flank that Ginny was throwing at her and the anxious tugs on the back of her loose robe's sleeve.
"This has all been well and fun," Pansy clipped with rude annoyance from her squished position between Draco and the golden blonde witch, her kohl-rimmed eyes bouncing in bewilderment between Ginny and Hermione like they had long overstayed their welcome and didn't know when to leave. "But you can run along now," Pansy shooed, waving her manicured hand at them in a careless, dismissive motion as she elbowed Draco in the side for more room, "I'm sure you have other things that you can be doing."
Hermione bristled at the brunette's rude dismissal and rolled her haughty toffee eyes, grabbing Ginny's elbow as the pair turned to leave. Theodore snorted and called to the Gryffindor's retreating backs, "Oi, Granger!"
Hermione paused and looked over her shoulder in acknowledgement at Theodore's wide smirking smile on his pointed face, and she knew what was coming before it left his grinning lips.
"I can't wait to come to your club!"
She cringed as she closed her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath, ignoring the roaring laughter from the Slytherins at their back, and then resumed her walk with Ginny in haste. She startled in her steps as the redhead shrugged out of her grasp and gripped Hermione's bicep in a harsh vice instead as they cleared the entryway, dragging the Head Girl into a nearby alcove in the corridor as they whirled to a sudden stop.
"Explain that," Ginny demanded, stamping her loafer on the stone in an expectant tap and releasing her friend from her grip.
"Not here," Hermione sighed, crossing her arms over her chest in an uncomfortable stance and glancing around the corridor at the other students who were leaving the Great Hall, "Let's find Colin's camera and I'll explain everything in my room."
Minutes later, with the muggle camera acquired ("Please, bring it back in one piece!" Colin cried as Ginny tossed it through the air for Hermione to hold), they bounded up the winding stone staircase to Hermione's private dormitory and erupted through the creaking wooden door, Ginny's silencing charm echoing over her shoulder as she snapped her yew wand at the wood.
"Now, Hermione!" Ginny shrieked, throwing herself into the overstuffed armchair and tucking her knees under her lap as she bounced in an expectant, anxious rhythm on the cushion.
"Alright!" Hermione laughed, sitting on the edge of her plush mattress and placing the camera at her side as she fiddled with a string on her tartan while she pondered, "There isn't much to tell… or maybe, that's not entirely true," she mused, crossing her legs and thinking of what to say. Ginny ceased her bouncing and dipped her head forward, her red hair falling in a curtain over her shoulders as she waited with bated breath for Hermione to finish the story.
"And?" Ginny breathed as the story didn't come, "What was that downstairs?!"
Hermione blew out an uneven breath that she'd been holding and shook out her shoulders as she met Ginny's impatient gaze, her words tumbling from her lips with rapidity, "I think that Justin Finch-Fletchley was telling the truth," She mumbled, biting her lower lip with worry as Ginny froze in the armchair.
"About Malfoy?" Ginny clarified with furrowed brows, popping up onto her knees on the cushion, "Slytherin Malfoy?"
"Yes," Hermione confirmed with a nod, her face flushing as she squeezed her fingers together in a tight clasp in her lap, feeling overcome with the desperate urge to hold onto something.
"Malfoy actually fancies you?" Ginny questioned with confusion, springing from the chair to pace in front of Hermione as she tucked her fist in a tight lock under her chin, the epitome of a witch who was deep in thought while she walked, "I suppose that would explain his comment."
"I'm not one-hundred percent certain," Hermione clarified with a breathless huff, shrugging one shoulder as Ginny paused in her march in front of her, "But I… I think there is more evidence to support the claim!" She finished with a shriek as Ginny gripped her narrow shoulders in her squeezing fingers and searched her startled eyes.
"Then bloody tell me!" The redhead laughed with bewilderment, releasing Hermione's shoulders to join her on the mattress. Ginny dangled her legs over the edge as she reached for the other side of the blue and green tartan to cover her lap for warmth. Hermione fell backward onto the mattress and sunk into the comfort, her curls fanning around her head in a frizzy dark halo as she stared in silence at her ceiling, eventually finding courage in the rafters.
"He flirts with me when we're alone or when we're in class," she started, her throat bobbing in a swallow, "Similar to in the Great Hall. I didn't realize it at first – I thought that he was teasing in the way that he's always done… to just get a rise out of me. But now I'm questioning my recollection of his… comments… throughout our history, and I'm no longer certain of his position," she finished with quiet conviction, waving her fingers in front of her face in a languid movement. She didn't mention that she sometimes initiated the flirting, as she was convinced that it hadn't been intentional on her part.
Ginny dropped down to her back and turned her cheek into the soft mattress, her eyes searching Hermione's profile as she pondered and rebuked, "He still says cruel things," Ginny offered, watching as Hermione gave a small nod of acknowledgement at the truth, "And this is Malfoy… it's hard to imagine him as anything more than a prat – or, a rat," Ginny snorted in quiet disbelief at her own joke.
"Indeed," Hermione agreed with a soft sigh, turning her cheek into the blankets to face her friend, "And that is why it's so… perplexing," she frowned, pursing her lips.
"You don't think he's playing a game?" Ginny questioned with a lift of her auburn brow, bouncing her foot against the side of the bed as she spoke, "Trying to make you look foolish?"
"It's possible, I suppose," Hermione said with unease as she fanned her fingers over her stomach to settle her jostling nerves. Perhaps I'm the one playing a game, she mused in silence.
Ginny turned her thoughtful eyes to face the ceiling and drummed her fingers on the mattress, humming as she pondered aloud, "So the rat is maybe flirting with you," she snorted at last, looking back to Hermione for confirmation, "What else has he said?"
"He asked me if my romance novels were for pleasure or for research," Hermione admitted with a soft laugh, embarrassment tinting her cheeks as Ginny's jaw dropped.
"Merlin, he's bold," the redhead scolded with a roll of her eyes, a mirroring flush staining her freckled face.
"Yes," Hermione agreed, propping herself up on her elbows and rising to a sitting position. Ginny joined her on the edge of the bed, and they bumped knees in a playful rhythm back and forth as they sat in comfortable silence.
"And I think… I think that maybe I enjoy his attention. And I enjoy… teasing him," Hermione admitted with reluctance and a shy smile, folding her arms over her chest and flicking her eyes to Ginny's expressionless face, feeling nervous for her friend's response. Ginny's lips curled at the edges as she examined her friend's nervous face with close inspection, "You would enjoy that," Ginny huffed, taking her wand out of her pocket and tossing it back and forth between her hands while she talked, "You've always liked control." She grinned as Hermione blushed, "It drove Ron wild for years."
"Speaking of Ron…" Hermione mumbled, changing topics and picking at her blanket, "He told me that he's happy with Lavender."
"Good," Ginny nodded in serious thought, dropping her wand to the mattress and putting her hands on her knees as she spoke, "I should like to have a sister-in-law who isn't so controlling."
Hermione smiled at Ginny's dig and stood to stretch, raising her arms above her head and letting the tartan fall loose from her hips.
"So, what are you going to do?" Ginny asked with casual indifference from the mattress, pinching at the blanket with her fingers.
"About Malfoy?" Hermione clarified, smoothing at the wrinkles in her skirt and turning to look back at her friend. Ginny rolled her eyes to the ceiling and jutted her heart-shaped chin forward, "Obviously."
"Nothing, I suppose. He's answering questions that I have about historical pureblood society, and we still have months of potioneering left," she shrugged, pulling at a frizzy strand of one of her curls and coiling it around her index finger.
"And you're giving him toys," Ginny deadpanned as she rose from the bed and reached for Colin's delicate silver camera, slipping the black strap of fabric over her head as he'd instructed ("Please!" He yelled after them as they ran up the stairs, "Wear the strap!").
Hermione's tinkling laughter fell from her lips as she moved to stand in an awkward position in front of a blank section of her dormitory's stone wall. "A more than a fair bargain," she quipped, flipping her hair behind her shoulders and giving a shy smile as Ginny snapped the camera, the bright flash of the bulb lighting up the room and blinding their eyes. Silver sparkles of light clouded their vision as their lids fluttered in rapid blinks to dispel the stars.
A few moments later, a single strip of film printed from the camera and Ginny waved it in the air as she let it cool, "It's a good photo," she remarked as her vision returned, holding it out to Hermione for her inspection, "He can use a potion on it to make it move."
"It will do as it is," Hermione agreed, rubbing at her eyes and placing the photograph on her nightstand for later. Ginny let the camera relax against her chest as she moved to examine Hermione's overfilled bookshelf, tracing her delicate fingers along the weathered spines and pausing over the bawdy novels as Draco had done.
"What happens if you start to fancy him in return?" The redhead quizzed over her shoulder, pulling out novels in an absent gesture with her fingers and pushing them back into place with a heavy thunk. Hermione sucked in her breath and shook her head at the question.
"It won't happen," she huffed with confidence, taking out her parchment and quill from her satchel to write her response to Viktor. Toying with Malfoy is harmless, she thought as she sat at her desk while Ginny stiffened at the bookshelf.
"Hermione," came Ginny's low warning, her freckled hand pointing to the romantic novels behind her as she ran her slender fingers across the spines with her eyes blown into widened circles, "How many women in these books said the exact same thing?"
Hermione bristled at the comment and shook her head with confidence, "Those are just stories, Ginny. They aren't real."
"But do you know what is?" Ginny countered, crossing her slender arms over her chest as she narrowed her eyes at her friend, "Spending six months in your room. Alone. With a man who maybe fancies you."
Hermione's delicate throat bobbed in a swallow as she stared at her unfinished sheet of parchment. "It isn't affecting me," she lied, resuming her letter.
Ginny watched her profile with careful scrutiny, her brows furrowing as she sighed, "I think it already has."
A frown snapped onto Hermione's face as she placed her quill on her desk and drummed her fingers on the oak with agitation, "My connection with Viktor was real," she countered, then quickly corrected, "Is real."
Ginny nodded her head at the outburst and schooled her voice into a light lilt, taking care as she replied, "And I should think it will be very real… if that's what you want," she gestured towards the photo on the nightstand.
Hermione nodded and ceased her drumming, "It is."
I absolutely do not want Draco Malfoy.
Ginny's brows flew into her hairline as she clapped her hands in front of her torso once and rocked backward on her heels, shuffling towards the door as she breathed, "Excellent." She jostled the silver camera in her grip and patted the delicate hard exterior with her hand as her face twisted into a grimace, her disbelief at Hermione's confidence evident on her face, "I'm going to go return this to Colin, and then go scream into my pillow for a bit. I'll see you at dinner."
"Ginny?" Hermione called with hesitation as the redhead paused in the doorway, turning around at the question, "Between us?"
Ginny rolled her green eyes heavenward and her mouth relaxed into a small, sincere smile, "As if you even have to ask."