In the wake of the attack on Hogsmeade, all of Hogwarts sobered up. The Daily Prophet might have reported it as the work of unknown Dark Wizards, but among the student body a consensus was starting to build that maybe, just maybe, Potter and Dumbledore weren't as mad as the Ministry and the papers had been claiming.
It was a very quiet consensus though, as no one wanted to be the first to say out loud that the most feared Dark Wizard in British history might be anything other than entirely dead. Even the teachers seemed to be a little tenser than they had been. Professor Slughorn had actually delayed his party by a few weeks so that it was just a week before the holidays.
Hermione had redoubled her efforts in her Defence lessons. Potter's remarks down in Hogsmeade had made her determined that she would catch up to her peers before the next time that madman appeared before her. Her efforts were actually helped by the fact that Potter had gotten quieter and more determined after the attack.
Despite having driven off several people's worst nightmare, he acted like he had lost. Hermione wasn't confident enough to ask him about it directly. Especially not since she now knew, or at least suspected, that he had had something to do with her recovery after she had been injured.
Both of them closing themselves off in response to that day had forced Hermione to realise something unexpected: she had actually grown fairly close to her teacher. Close enough at any rate that she was now aware that a distance had sprung up between them.
Hermione was unexpectedly granted the opportunity to address the distance between Potter and herself, if only indirectly, during her next lesson with Professor McGonagall. Hermione had successfully demonstrated that she could turn a porcupine into a pin-cushion.
"Very good, Miss Granger. Very good indeed. Five points to Gryffindor."
"Thank you, Professor," Hermione said, feeling pride swell within her.
Professor McGonagall nodded and her face took on a thoughtful cast. "Yes, your progress has been considerable over the past few months. Which reminds me that we had agreed to schedule another Defence Against the Dark Arts examination before your holidays. I shall have to speak with Mr. Potter about the matter. If all goes well, you will perhaps be able to inform your parents that you have mastered the whole of the second year curriculum and will be starting the equivalent of the third year curriculum in the new year."
Hermione felt a combination of excitement and dread that was difficult to quantify and fluctuated depending on whether her imagination saw her passing or failing that particular exam. "When- when will this exam be, Professor?" she asked nervously.
Professor McGonagall hummed in the back of her throat. "I think that perhaps the Sunday before the Express departs would be best, contingent on Potter's agreement of course."
"I- I'll put it in my diary," Hermione said around the lump in her throat. Three weeks. I have three weeks to prepare for this exam.
I have to talk to Potter.
As soon as Professor McGonagall dismissed her, Hermione grabbed her things and fled for Gryffindor Tower. She arrived with barely enough control over her breathing to gasp out the password. Hermione rushed into the common room and looked around for that mop of distinctly messy hair. A part of her wilted when she couldn't find it. Drat it all, Potter. I need you.
Hermione did see the equally distinctive long, red locks of one of her female friends and made her way over. Ginny was sitting with another girl from her own year and Hermione was a little hesitant to break into the conversation the two were sharing. Anything that involved that much giggling was unlikely to be good news.
Needs must, old girl. Hermione squared her shoulders and cleared her throat. "Um, Ginny?"
The redhead looked up with a slightly forced smile, while the other girl did nothing to hide that the interruption was unwelcome. "What's up, Hermione?"
"Have you seen your brother?" It was the safer of the two questions Hermione could have asked.
"He's patrolling with Lavender. He'll probably be back sometime well after curfew. Why?"
"I just-… wanted to ask him something." Hermione knew that her answer hadn't really been accepted, but it was the best she could do if she didn't want to give everything away. She hesitated, but her nerves about the upcoming exam won out over the nerves about dealing with giggling. "Have- have you seen Potter, then?"
The two pairs of eyes in front of her suddenly gained a terrifying focus. "Potter? You want to talk to Harry Potter?" Ginny's friend scoffed.
Ginny's eyes had also narrowed slightly as she studied Hermione. "What do you want with Harry?"
"Something came up with regards to my Defence class. I need to talk to him about it," Hermione said, praying her voice sounded calm and confident.
Ginny's friend let out a scornful, disbelieving huff, but the redhead's gaze never wavered. "Sorry, Hermione," Ginny said slowly. "Harry's not been in the common room all evening. I don't know where he is."
"Oh. Well, thanks anyway," Hermione said, feeling awkward and lost. "I- I'll just go do some homework then." She turned around and headed for one of the tables, but couldn't get away fast enough to miss hearing one of the girls begin gossiping about her.
"Eugh. What was with that pathetic excuse? Like Harry Potter would actually want anything to do with someone like her."
Hermione's shoulders hunched as the voice asked a question she had asked herself may times. She thought that it was Ginny's friend who had spoken, but didn't want to turn around to make sure. Neither did she want to hang around and hear what Ginny's response might be.
Instead, Hermione installed herself at the table farthest away from the two girls and dug her books and parchment out of her bag. She went to look over the list of assignments that she had noted down for herself in her diary. Unfortunately the little book fell open to the page where she had written the note about her upcoming exam.
Hermione tried to focus on the essay she was supposed to be writing for Professor Flitwick regarding the Shrinking Charm, but for once the words wouldn't come.
She could only stare at the blank parchment as scenes ran through her imagination of her parents demanding that she leave Hogwarts after failing one of its classes. She saw Professor McGonagall looking disappointed and telling her that she would have to join the second years in their classes and that she would never catch up to her peers. Worst of all was Potter telling her that she was impossible to teach and that he should never have stopped ignoring her after that had worked so well for five years.
Hermione tried to force her thoughts away from those images, but they kept lurking in the back of her mind. Meanwhile every sudden noise was tugging her attention away from her work in a way that had rarely happened before. It was all she could do to keep her eyes pointed at the parchment in front of her.
A sudden drop in the volume of noise around her caused Hermione to finally look up and she shot to her feet as she saw that her Defence Professor had returned to the common room.
'Like Harry Potter would actually want anything to do with someone like her.'
The words cut through her mind and Hermione found herself nailed to the spot, unable to approach the wizard everyone was looking at. I should wait until there's no one else around. I can talk to him during our own lesson. Anything but walking up to him now.
Unfortunately, Hermione's lurch to her feet had apparently drawn Potter's gaze and their eyes met. Oh no…
Potter turned his path and Hermione knew, knew, that he was heading for her. She contemplated fleeing, but her things were spread all over the desk and she could see that she'd never be able to collect everything into her bag before Potter got there, meaning she'd only be making a scene.
Hoping to keep the stares around her to a minimum, Hermione sank back into her seat. A few seconds later, Potter pulled out the seat next to her and sat down. Hermione could feel the eyes of every other Gryffindor digging into her skin.
"Hermione? Are you alright? You look like something's bothering you," Potter said, his voice kind.
"I- I-" Hermione cursed her mouth for not moving like she wanted it to. "Professor McGonagall said that I have to take another Defence exam." The words tumbled past her lips in a rush.
"I forgot about that," Potter said with a frown on his face. "I'll go talk to her tomorrow."
"I'm sorry," Hermione said heavily.
"What for?" Potter asked. "We already knew McGonagall wanted to test you sometime before the hols, the only thing that's changing is that we're going to nail it down to a specific date and time." He stopped and thought for a second. "You know, maybe you should come with me. We should make sure that we plan it sometime that works for you as well."
"Professor McGonagall said she wants me to take the exam the Sunday before we leave," Hermione admitted.
Potter blinked in surprise, before an impish smile stretched his lips. "She tell you what's going to be on the test too?"
"Sh- she said that I'll be tested on the second year curriculum. That way I can start on third year after Christmas."
Next to Hermione, Potter nodded thoughtfully. "Alright, makes sense. I guess she'll want to discuss what's on the test again."
Hermione's dread came roaring back and her lap filled her vision as she looked down. A warm hand giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze brought her gaze back up to find a pair of emerald eyes looking for her own.
"You'll do fine," Potter said, giving her another squeeze. "Like I said: I'll talk to McGonagall tomorrow and we'll work out what you'll be tested on. We have a few lessons we can use for review, if you want, but honestly? I think you could pass whatever we come up with tomorrow if you had to."
"Do you really think so?" Hermione hated that the question had escaped her in that uncertain tone, but she needed to know.
"Definitely," Potter said. The certainty in his gaze gave Hermione the feeling that she had somewhere to stand in the storm of emotions she was feeling.
"Thank you," Hermione breathed out, wondering why it was so difficult to look away from that reassuring gaze. As soon as she realised what she was thinking, Hermione tore her eyes away from Potter with a conscious effort and focused on the parchment in front of her. "I should get started on my homework," she muttered, not daring to look up again.
"Alright, I know where I'm not wanted," Potter said. She could hear that silly grin in his voice. "I'll just go see if Nev's up for a game of gobstones."
Hermione felt Potter's presence get up and leave her side and let out the breath she had been holding. That went well, she thought to herself, not entirely sure if she was evaluating the situation or trying to convince herself. It went well and Potter will help me review. I can do this. I can do this.
Picking up her quill, Hermione turned her mind to the task of filling the blank parchment with everything she knew about the Shrinking Charm.
:-:-:-:-:
True to his word, Potter made Hermione's next Defence class a review for the upcoming exam. As they worked through a list of spells and techniques that might come up, Hermione reflected that Ron had been right on the first day of term: Harry Potter really was a good teacher.
The list they were working through had more spells on it than she had expected to be able to learn when she had first considered asking a fellow student to be her tutor. Potter's approach, while still a bit light on theory, was also giving Hermione more confidence by the lesson that if she got herself into trouble, she'd be able to get out of it again.
When she was alone behind the hangings of her bed at night, Hermione could admit to herself in the quietest recesses of her mind, that her opinion of Potter was also being influenced by the way he acted around her when they weren't in class.
Aside from Ron, no one her own age had ever been as solicitous of Hermione. Potter invariably seemed to be trying to help Hermione recover, as much as or more than the friends she'd had for longer. He also seemed to be able to read her emotions and thoughts off her face like no one else. Sometimes it felt like there was a connection between them that made Hermione wish one of them would have just spoken to the other over the previous five years.
On those nights when her thoughts turned to her Defence classes, Hermione couldn't keep from noticing that the distance that had grown between Potter and herself following the attack on Hogsmeade had shrunk again as they were able to use their focus on her upcoming exam to move past any awkward silences that fell between them.
Between her revision with Potter and the evaluations she was going through with her other teachers, the weeks before the Christmas holidays passed in a blur. She was so focused on her studies that when Potter tapped her shoulder in the common room two days before her Defence exam she nearly jumped out of her seat.
"Whoa! You okay, Hermione?"
Hermione tried to swallow in an attempt to move her heart back down into her chest after it had leapt into her throat. "I'm fine, Potter, you just surprised me. Did you want to have another review session?" He must be worried about how my marks will reflect on his abilities after all.
"Um, no?" Potter looked a bit worried at the turn her mind had taken. "I was just going to point out that you might want to get changed. Professor Slughorn will be expecting us in-"
"The party!" Hermione exclaimed, whirling around and gathering up her materials, clutching them to her chest. "I completely forgot that was tonight!" Before she ran for the stairs up to her dorm, manners forced her to look Potter in the eye. "Thank you for reminding me."
"No problem. Would you like me to wait for you so we can head over together?"
"No," Hermione said, hoping she hadn't answered too quickly. "No, you go ahead. Just- cover for me if he notices I'm not there?"
"You've got it," Potter said, that impish grin flashing across his face. "I'll see you when you make your grand entrance."
Hermione just nodded and hurried for the stairs. In her dorm she found the robes she had bought on the day of the attack. Taking a deep breath she began getting ready. For the most part that involved reading the instructions on the pot of Sleakeazy's that she'd found in her trunk.
A long shower later, Hermione tugged her new robes on and did her best to make her hair, admittedly now curly instead of bushy, lie down in a way that could be called fashionable. To Hermione's great surprise she was eagerly helped by Lavender and Parvati who had come up just when she had been about to throw her hairbrush into the mirror. Her dormmates had set to with a will and by the time they were done Hermione couldn't believe that she was looking at herself in the mirror.
"You'll knock 'em dead," Lavender said approvingly, moving to look at Hermione from every angle.
"Yeah, if there's any cute boys there, you could totally try something," Parvati agreed, moving in a similar way.
"Experts from all over the wizarding world will be there tonight and you want me to look at boys?" Hermione asked with a cocked eyebrow.
"Those experts will still be expert when we graduate, but a cute boy might be taken by then," Lavender said in an eminently reasonable tone.
"I- I'll keep that in mind," Hermione answered, not meaning a word of it. She stood up and took a deep breath before putting up a smile for her dormmates. "Thanks, girls. I'd better go or the party might be over before I get there."
The other two happily waved their goodbyes and Hermione was sure that she'd be featuring in a gossiping session as soon as the door closed behind her. Ignoring whatever might be going on behind her, Hermione turned her gaze forward and hurried out of Gryffindor Tower and down through the castle to the Dungeons and Professor Slughorn's office.
A chill ran down Hermione's spine as she came up to the door and it took more effort than she had expected to open it. Stepping inside of the Potion Master's office, she looked around at the crowd that had already gathered. She didn't know anyone there, but the knowledge that these people were all at the pinnacle of their profession was like a warm glow inside of her.
Hermione moved forward, twisting herself through gaps between the conversing visitors and students. She looked for anyone standing by themselves, not ready to try and interrupt a conversation that was already in progress.
An awkward shimmy past an older Hufflepuff and a large man with a moustache that could rival Professor Slughorn's, and Hermione found herself face to face with a tall, blonde woman. The woman's eyes lit up behind rhinestone-studded spectacles. "Well, well, well… if it isn't Hermione Granger."
That didn't sound friendly. "You- um, you know me?"
"Oh, I do. Indeed, I do," the woman breathed as if she was relishing the moment. "You really have no idea who I am do you?"
"No, I'm afraid I don't," Hermione admitted, sticking her hand out.
The woman in front of her eyed Hermione's hand like it had been dipped in sewage. "I had heard that your memories had been… lost. I never thought I'd get to see it for myself." There was something gleeful in the woman's tone.
"I'm afraid I still don't know who you are. Could you perhaps introduce yourself again?" Hermione asked, unable to keep all of her irritation at the woman's attitude out of her voice.
"Hmmph." Those sharp eyes looked Hermione up and down once more, clearly dismissing her as anyone worth talking to. "If you don't remember, I see no reason to change that," the woman sneered out, already turning away, clearly uninterested in anything more Hermione might want to say.
Hermione didn't want to say anything more to this particular person either. If she was honest with herself, she wanted to just run back up to her dorm, crawl into bed and fall asleep cursing the unfairness of it all. No. That would just be letting her win. There must be someone I can talk to without making a fool of myself.
People were very clearly avoiding her gaze though, their body language closed off and turned away. I should never have agreed to come.
"Hermione?"
Hermione's felt her muscles tense for a brief moment in surprise before the fact that her name had been called registered. Looking up she found her Defence Professor standing in front of her looking her over. Unlike the last time a pair of eyes roved over her body looking for weakness, there was no malice in the air. Potter looked like he was worried about her. Keep dreaming. Why would he be worried about you?
Then again… Potter had agreed to teach her without having his arm twisted in any way. He'd even stood up for her reputation to their new teacher. Maybe this is the one person here who will talk to me normally. Maybe.
"Hermione, are you alright?"
"Yes, Potter. I'll be fine," Hermione answered.
A look of sadness flashed through his eyes that Hermione couldn't quite place. "Okay. Good," he said awkwardly. "I mean, Skeeter's a bit of a bint on a good day, so I was worried she might have done something."
"So that's normal?" Hemrione asked, realising how that must sound only after the words had already passed her lips.
"Her having a go at you?" Potter asked.
Hermione nodded hesitantly.
"Usually she waits to do it in print. If she's doing it to you in person at least you probably won't be featured in the next issue of Witch Weekly or some article in the Prophet."
"She's done that to you?"
"Yeah. Back in Fourth Year," Potter agreed with a sour look in the direction Skeeter had disappeared in.
"Did it have something to do with the TriWizard Tournament you were in?"
"Pretty much," Potter agreed with a shrug.
Hermione considered ignoring the obvious cues that Potter didn't want to talk about the tournament and quizzing him up one side and down the other on what had actually happened, but forced the urge down. No need for both of us to have a depressing evening. "You know, Potter, I think I'm going to call it a night. It was, um, good to see you."
"You're leaving already? I thought you'd be pretty eager to talk to at least some of these people."
"It's not mutual," Hermione muttered, already moving away so that Potter wouldn't be given a chance to make things awkward. She wasn't quite quick enough and felt a hand grab her own.
Looking back she found Potter studying her. "Want to grab a drink?"
Hermione couldn't figure out what he was up to with this non-sequiter. There was no particular reason she could see why he would want her hanging around and ruining his chances to speak to some fascinating, if utterly mannerless, members of the wizarding intelligentsia.
Her questions must have shown on her face. "If you hang around me, you'll get to talk to as many of them as you can stomach," Potter said with a sardonic grin. "All of them want to talk to 'the famous Harry Potter'. Never mind that I'd be dull as dishwater to most of them if I'd had another name, now I'm interesting." Potter shook his head, seeming to realise how bitter his voice had gotten towards the end. "Sorry. Didn't mean to unload that on you. The offer stands if you're willing to put up with me and them."
"I- I think I'd like that."
Together the two Gryffindors made their way over to the refreshments table. Around them, Hermione could hear whispers and feel eyes digging into her skin. They're probably wondering what some hopeless loser like me is doing with the darling of the wizarding world.
Potter acted like he was oblivious to the susurration, though Hermione doubted that it had truly escaped his notice. He's far too aware of how he's treated for him not to know what's happening.
At the table, Potter poured them each a goblet of pumpkin juice. He handed her one with a slightly apologetic look. "It's the healthiest option. I don't think a dentist's daughter would appreciate how sweet the butterbeer is and you don't strike me as the type who'd drink elf-made wine or Firewhisky at school."
"Thank you," Hermione said, taking the goblet. She was a little surprised that Potter knew about her parents. It had probably come up at some point over the past few years, but the fact that he had remembered was the truly striking part. I really think that I may have misjudged him for five years.
"So, um," Potter said, clearly casting about for a topic of conversation now that he had her here, "what book have you been reading?"
"Are you sure that I even have time to be reading with all the studying I'm doing?" Hermione challenged. She'd really like to avoid being known as a bookworm like she had been in primary school.
She was taken aback when Potter smiled at her. Underneath the impishness, there was something that hinted at a fondness she hadn't thought their relationship would have produced in him. "Hermione, I'm sure that, as fast as you're going through your studies, you still have at least one or two side-projects."
If it hadn't been for that smile, Hermione might have shot his assumption down. "Fine. I've been reading up on the Memory Charm."
Potter's expression sobered up. "I see. Found anything interesting?"
There was an implicit escape. Potter's tone suggested that if Hermione just said 'no', he'd drop this line of conversation, but there was something so earnest in his gaze that Hermione found herself answering him before she could properly entertain that option. "Actually, what I've been most curious about is the mechanism by which the affected memories are removed. Some of the literature seems to suggest that the memories are merely hidden, while others suggest that it is, in fact, a complete removal."
Potter nodded to her words. "I'm not sure what the right answer would be myself, but if you like I could ask an auror or two that I know. Ron's dad could probably put you in contact with an Obliviator if you ask him. Heck, Slughorn'd probably invite one if we talk about this around him."
Hermione shook her head. "I'm not ready to discuss it with someone like that yet. I want a better working model before I talk to an expert."
"Have your classes with Flitwick helped you in working out that model?"
Hermione found herself getting drawn more and more into the conversation with Potter about the theoretical Charms frameworks she'd been studying. He was surprisingly easy to talk to, despite the fact that they didn't have the structure of their student-teacher relationship hanging over their heads right now, and Hermione was actually disappointed when a third voice interrupted their discussion.
"Pardon me, Mr. Potter, I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with your partner here. My name is Gilbert Wimple, with the Committee on Experimental Charms. It is not often that I hear youngsters discussing such esoteric matters voluntarily, so I just had to come over and introduce myself."
"The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Wimple," Potter replied politely, turning slightly so that the other man could be included and reaching out to rest his fingers on Hermione's arm. "This is Hermione Granger, probably the most talented witch at Hogwarts at this moment."
Hermione felt her cheeks heat up and hoped that she wasn't blushing too badly. Never mind Potter calling her a brilliant student in front of their Head of House, this was something on a different level entirely.
Wimple sketched a bow in her direction, taking her hand and kissing the air above it. "An honour to meet you, Miss Granger."
"Likewise, Mr. Wimple. You said you were on the Committee for Experimental Charms? That must be fascinating work," Hermione said, doing her best not to stare at the horns coming out of the older wizard's head.
Wimple took her comment as an opportunity to launch into a very thorough description of his work at the Ministry and actually seemed delighted when Hermione asked him to explain several nuances of the projects he was talking about.
After Wimple moved on he was soon replaced with a witch who apparently helped maintain the barrier between the muggle world and Platform 9¾. After that, Professor Slughorn's guests came by one after the other, diffidently introducing themselves to Potter, who would then immediately introduce Hermione in return. Each of them was more than willing to indulge in talking about their field of expertise, answering any questions Potter or Hermione might have. The only one who didn't approach them was that Skeeter woman. Hermione caught sight of her at one point, standing in a corner, scowling at the two students over the rim of a tumbler of Firewhisky.
Hermione drew Potter's attention to it and heard him sigh in resignation. "Looks like we might rate an article in Witch Weekly after all," he muttered. "Ignore her as best you can and if she does write something, throw it and any letters you get in the fire."
"Okay," Hermione agreed, a little stunned that she appeared to be getting advice on fan mail of all things. Aside from that the evening passed like a dream.
When the party wound down Hermione found herself walking back to Gryffindor Tower with Potter by her side. Words were streaming from her lips as fast as she could form them, buoyed by all the things she'd learned that night. The whole way, Potter never stopped her, only looked on with that indulgent smile of his. Hermione wasn't sure how she was supposed to take that, but one thing was for sure: her Defence Professor had undoubtedly helped make this one of the greatest nights she could remember.
Standing by the stairs up to her dorm, Hermione tried to express that sentiment to him. "Potter, I- I want to thank you. I had a wonderful time tonight."
Potter's grin stretched a little wider. "That's good. I enjoyed tonight as well."
"Will you-, um… will you be there again next time?"
"I will if you will," he said, his expression turning into one of pure mischief.
A giggle of all things snuck its way past Hermione's lips. "Good. I'll look forward to it then. See you for class tomorrow?"
"Yeah. Sleep well."
Hermione turned and walked up the stairs feeling like something momentous had just happened, but unsure of exactly what it was until she was already lying in her bed. I think Harry Potter and I might have really become friends.
:–:–:–:–:
The next day Hermione woke feeling more rested that she had in a long time. Her buoyant mood seemed to have carried over from the night before and she realised that she was humming a tuneless melody to herself as she brushed her teeth.
Feeling more relaxed than she had in weeks, Hermione made her way down to breakfast and took her time enjoying the meal before she headed up to the Room for her last review session with Potter, with Harry, before her exam the next day.
Hermione wasn't even surprised that Harry had beaten her to the room when she saw him look up and smile at her. "Morning, Hermione. Ready to get started?"
"I think I am, Harry."
A part of Hermione wanted to giggle at the gobsmacked expression on Harry's face, only to melt when he started beaming at her like the sunrise. That's… quite the smile, she thought to herself. She didn't realise she'd sighed out loud until Harry's expression turned startled. "Uhm- review?"
Harry blinked slowly, reminding her of Crookshanks for a moment. "Yeah… sure…"
For the rest of the day they worked their way through everything Hermione had learned one more time. Throughout, Hermione felt Harry's curiosity. It was more than enough to let her know that she had surprised him by using his given name. On the other hand, even if he might not have noticed it, Hermione felt like a barrier that had at least contributed to the distance between them had been dissolved.
After class the two Gryffindors headed down to dinner together. When they sat down on either side of Ron, his head whipped back and forth. "Did something happen?"
Hermione looked at Harry to see if the question had made more sense to him, but saw a look as puzzled as she felt. "I'm not sure, Ron. Harry and I have been holed up in the Room reviewing for my exam tomorrow."
Ron's eyes only narrowed at her. "Harry? You've never called him anything but 'Potter' before. What's going on between you two?"
"Nothing!" Hermione said, only for it to come out in a squeak.
"Hey, Ron?" Harry said casually, "if you wind Hermione up and she wants to review all night, I'm letting her do it with you."
"Harry, you wouldn't! She'll really do it," Ron begged, abruptly ignoring Hermione.
Looking over her friend's shoulder, Hermione could see laughter dancing in her teacher's green eyes and decided that she could get in a barb or two of her own. "Actually, Ron, it might be really helpful. You were a part of those adventures, weren't you?"
"No! No! Absolutely not! I'll head out to pet a Skrewt again before I let you drag me into- wait, you're funning me!"
Hermione's laughter burst out of her like warm sunlight. "Only because you make it easy, Ron. I never thought you'd get so distracted before supper."
"I'll get you for this," Ron warned, shaking a chicken leg at her as he loaded up his plate.
"Not before she sits her exam, you won't," Harry said drily. "After that, it's your own head you're risking."
Hermione couldn't remember enjoying a meal more at Hogwarts, even if that was an admittedly truncated sample size. The two boys cheerfully bickered at each other and both seemed extraordinarily pleased when Hermione spoke up to make fun of one or the other.
It wasn't until Hermione was lying in her own bed, basking in the feelings the evening had left her with, that she remembered to her terror that she was sitting an exam in the next twelve hours. It turned into a long night of tossing and turning.
When a beam of sunlight struck her eye through a crack in the curtains, Hermione gave up and just got up. She splashed cold water on her face in the bathroom in an effort to get rid of the bags under her eyes; she didn't think she could put up with the inevitable fussing if Harry and Ron saw her visibly tired.
Before she headed down, Hermione checked the contents of her bag several times. Quills, extra quills, extra parchment for jotting down notes, inkwell, spare inkwell, wand for the practical, I'll grab a glass of water at breakfast for a refreshment… I think that's everything.
Trying not to doubt her preparedness, Hermione made her way down to the Great Hall where she managed to mechanically nibble some toast and take one or two sips of cooling tea.
"You're worrying yourself out of an appetite, aren't you?" a voice next to her asked.
Hermione's head whipped to the side and found Harry Potter's eyes mere inches from her own. "Harry! Don't do that!"
"I tried not to startle you," he protested, sounding just a bit hurt. "But you really should eat. I know you probably don't have much of an appetite, my teammates didn't either before the match, but you'll be glad you got something in you in a few hours when there's nothing to eat."
"Don' wanna," Hermione groused quietly. As soon as she'd said it she wondered if banging her head against the table might make the embarrassment go away.
"Right, I didn't want to do this," Harry said, visibly squaring his shoulders and glaring at her over his glasses. "As your tutor, I'm ordering you to eat breakfast."
Hermione could only stare at her teacher as her brain tried to process what he'd just said.
Three blinks later he was looking at her with an awkward, oddly endearing expression. "You know, I was kind of hoping that would actually work?"
"Why?" Hermione wondered.
Harry shrugged and looked away. "Just- you seem to listen to your teachers and- well, you really do need to eat something. I was hoping I could shock you into a few bites."
"You thought that would work?"
Harry was definitely looking flushed now and not meeting her eyes. "Look, I don't know what I was thinking. Can we please-… could you please just eat something?"
Hermione discovered that having someone else feel even more awkward than she did really did help in getting a few more bites of toast down. I'm never letting Harry know that though. He's always so in control that it's actually nice to see him like this for once.
Next to her, one of the most famous wizards in the world was eating his own breakfast like he was hoping the ground would swallow him up once he'd finished it. The universe proved to at least be consistent in not allowing him an easy escape any more than it had Hermione.
When neither could pretend that they wanted another bite, a shared look was enough for the two Gryffindors to get up and make their way towards Professor McGonagall's office. Upon their arrival, Harry had to knock on the door since Hermione found her hands refusing to get any closer to it.
"Come in!"
Hermione followed Harry into the office and let her eyes sweep the room. There was a single desk set up in the middle of the office. Like a condemned woman, Hermione walked over to it and took her place.
"Very punctual, Miss Granger, Mr. Potter. Miss Granger, you will begin with a written exam. I have compiled it from Mr. Potter's account of what you have covered in your sessions together. You have two hours."
"Can I stay, Professor?" Harry asked.
Professor McGonagall eyed him for a moment and then nodded. "I trust that you have brought the materials necessary to get a head start on your holiday homework?"
Harry gave a rueful smile, but nodded.
"Very well then." Professor McGonagall waved her wand and conjured a second desk.
Harry sat down quickly and pulled out parchment, quills and ink. Hermione wasn't given long to ponder him, as Professor McGonagall placed a stack of parchment in front of her. "You may begin, Miss Granger."
Hermione bent her head down and read the first question. Soon the outside world disappeared and all that existed was the exam, her quill and the words she was scribbling out. After she had answered every question, she went back through them all, correcting some wording here and there, but not finding any answer that she dared to change.
As soon as she looked up from her parchment she found Professor McGonagall's hazel eyes digging into her own. "Have you finished, Miss Granger?"
The sound of a quill scratching on parchment stopped, making Hermione aware for the first time that it had been present at all.
"I- I have, Professor."
The Transfiguration teacher stood up and walked over. She picked up Hermione's exam and, in a move that, by the look of it, shocked not only Hermione, dropped it on Harry's desk. "Very well, Ms. Granger, Mr. Potter shall be marking your answers while I administer the practical examination."
Hermione gave a determined nod and got up, drawing her wand. She let her eyes meet Harry's for a moment. He gave her an encouraging nod in return before picking up his quill and turning to look at her answers.
"Miss Granger, I have borrowed this Duelling Dummy from Professor Snape. Please treat it as you would an opponent in a duel. We will begin with the Shield Charm."
"Yes, Professor." Taking a deep breath, Hermione dragged her thoughts from the exam being marked mere feet away and focused on her casting. "Protego." She took care not to shout the incantation, just as she'd been taught.
The approving nod from Professor McGonagall brought an unclenching of the muscles between her shoulders. "Very good. Next, let's see you cast the Full Body Bind on the Dummy."
Hermione suppressed a smirk, remembering how Harry had called this a speciality of hers. With more confidence than she'd felt in any other exam, Hermione flicked her wand through the appropriate movement and murmured out "Petrificus Totalis".
The dummy stiffened and toppled over, unable to retaliate as it was incapacitated by the spell. After that followed several more hexes and jinxes. Hermione felt a glow of satisfaction as each spell landed exactly where she had intended it to. She didn't realise just how caught up she was getting in the thrill of her performance until the demand for the next spell didn't come.
Feeling like she had missed a step, Hermione straightened up from her duelling stance and looked over at her Transfiguration Professor in confusion. Are we done already?
"Very good, Ms. Granger," Professor McGonagall murmured. Hermione felt like something had changed in the way her teacher looked at her. Before she could put her finger on it, Professor McGonagall turned to look at Harry. "How are you coming along, Mr. Potter?"
"I've finished," Harry responded quietly. "Did you want to make sure that I'm not unfairly marking Hermione?"
Professor McGonagall moved over to the desk and looked over Harry's shoulder, apparently reading his marking. Hermione's lungs were having trouble drawing in sufficient breath as she waited for her teachers to let her know how she'd done.
Eventually Professor McGonagall nodded and opened a drawer. She pulled out a card and placed it in front of Harry. "You may mark it on Ms. Granger's report card. Her practical merits the same mark."
Hermione watched as Harry blinked in surprise, hopefully at the fact that he was being asked to write down her mark and not at Professor McGonagall's assessment of her performance. He picked up the his quill and scratched out something on the card. "Can we tell Hermione how she did? I'm not sure I want to spend the last week of term keeping that from her."
Professor McGonagall let out a rather suspicious cough, before nodding. "Certainly. Ms. Granger, you may take your report card."
Hermione couldn't bring herself to move, frozen by the uncertainty of what people would say if she couldn't get good marks on classes she must have passed once before, even if she couldn't remember it.
Harry apparently understood what was happening though as he got up and walked over to her holding out the card for her to take. With trembling hands, Hermione took it and, with only a slight hesitation, looked at her marks. All O's.
Relief, joy and pride rose up in her chest like a whirling storm that had to get out somehow. With a happy cry she flung herself at Harry and grabbed him in a hug as she bounced up and down in sheer giddy relief. "Thankyou!Thankyou!Thankyou!" she squealed in Harry's ear.
"You're the one who put the work," Harry choked out in a strange voice.
Hermione became abruptly aware that she was rattling her teacher back and forth by the throat and let him go, her cheeks growing hot as she realised what she must have looked like. Neither of her teachers seemed particularly upset with her, though Harry did look rather dishevelled.
"I quite agree with Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall said with a smile. "If you hadn't been willing to work as hard as you have, you would not have come as far you have. This is your achievement Miss Granger."
"Thank you very much, Professors," Hermione said, trying to control her excitement. She noticed that Harry rolled his eyes at the title, but shrugged it off; he did that every time she addressed him like a teacher.
"Well, why don't the two of you head off to enjoy Miss Granger's excellent results? Mr. Potter, while I will still need your essay on the Principle Exceptions to Gamp's Law, I would like you to know that I am very proud of the way you have been helping Miss Granger. That her knowledge of Defence does not lag behind her other subjects is a credit to your ability as a teacher as well as Miss Granger's hard work."
Hermione beamed at her Defence teacher who was blushing furiously under Professor McGonagall's praise.
"If I had known the extent of your talent last year I might have mentioned teaching to you as a possible career path. Should you ever feel curious about a teaching post at Hogwarts after your graduation, you may come and talk to me about it. As it is, I feel you have earned forty points for Gryffindor by going above and beyond any reasonable request the school could make of you. It shames me that we have not been able to find a professional tutor for Miss Granger yet, but you may have heard about that from Professor Dumbledore already."
Hermione noticed that Harry's nod didn't carry even a hint of surprise with it. He really is a part of the staff, no matter what he says she thought to herself. I should bring that up with him at some point. His expression would probably be brilliant. The cheek of the thought caught Hermione off guard, but that feeling soon passed. He's my friend as well as my teacher. I think a bit of teasing should be allowed.
The two Gryffindors bid their Head of House farewell and made their way out of her office. It was all Hermione could do to not skip down the corridor, clutching her report card to her chest as her bag bounced lightly off her hip.
"So? What would you like to do to celebrate passing your classes with perfect scores?" Harry asked next to her, his smile carrying through his voice.
"I- I don't know. Besides, I've only passed my classes at the second year level."
"You say that like there's some doubt you'll do as well with the third year stuff," Harry said with an amused snort.
"Well, there will be more classes and the material will be more challenging," Hermione protested.
"Have you decided which classes you'll be taking for your electives?"
"I wanted to take all of them, but Professor McGonagall shot me down," Hermione said. Next to her, Harry began to snicker under his breath. "What?!"
"Nothing. I just remembered that you tried to do that in our third year as well. By the end of that year even you had to admit that it wasn't healthy for you to be stretching yourself that thin."
"Professor McGonagall and Ron told me the same thing. I didn't realised you'd noticed it too."
Harry shrugged. "It got fairly obvious that you were frazzled a few times throughout the year," he admitted.
"Oh…"
"Hey, what are you getting all gloomy for? It's not going to happen again, right?"
"No," Hermione admitted. "I'll be taking the classes I apparently took my OWLs in last year. Arithmancy, Ancient Runes and Care for Magical Creatures."
"Good. Those classes suit you," Harry told her with a nod that settled a nervousness Hermione hadn't even realised that she was feeling. "Now, enough serious stuff. We have a celebration to get to." Apparently seeing that Hermione had no ideas to offer, Harry grinned at her. "How about we get Ron in on this party?"
"Yes," Hermione agreed. Her red-headed friend was a lot more likely to have an idea of what constituted a good party. "Yes, Ron should be there."
"Anyone else you want to invite?"
"Well… Neville and Ginny have been very kind to me this year. That Luna girl too… I think she was trying to be nice at any rate."
"She was," Harry said. "She's not making fun of you when she starts talking about those creatures no one's ever heard of. That's just- well, it's just Luna."
"Well, her too then."
"Brilliant. Let's get the Gryffindors first. Ron can get us some snacks and meet us in the Room."
"The Room? Isn't that, well, our place," Hermione asked, feeling a little foolish even as the words left her mouth.
Harry looked a little surprised at her complaint, but was soon smiling again. "We won't use the configuration we use for our classes," he said. "We'll ask it for something else. That classroom can remain ours and no one else's."
"Alright then," Hermione relented. Harry kept probing her for the sorts of snacks and drinks she might want at a party, but Hermione was a little more focused on the idea that a party was happening at all. The only people who'd ever celebrated her academic achievements had been her parents and teachers, but Harry was suggesting she celebrate with her friends. Stranger yet, Hermione thought that there was actually a chance those friends might want to celebrate with her. The magical world was certainly different from the non-magical, at least for her.
Ron eagerly agreed to Harry's suggestion that he collect some food and drinks for the party and Ginny had gone to find Luna as soon as she heard about this plan. Neville insisted on heading over to the Room with Harry right away, so they could hang up some decorations for Hermione. That all of this came about with no hesitation from anyone involved was the greatest gift Hermione had received in a long time.
That evening, the six friends celebrated Hermione managing to work her way through their courses at four times the usual tempo until just before curfew. Hermione was grateful that the Room they sat laughing in didn't resemble her Defence classroom. For reasons she still couldn't entirely articulate, it felt like it would have been a desecration to celebrate in that setting.
When it was deemed time to head back to their common rooms or risk detention, Hermione walked back to Gryffindor tower with Harry and Ron, while Neville and Ginny swung by Ravenclaw tower to drop Luna off. Hermione should have been tense. She should have been worried that she might miss curfew. Instead she felt like some of the life that had been stolen from her by that madman had been returned to her. Perhaps I've gotten back more than he took she thought to herself as stole a glance out of the corner of her eye at the messy haired boy laughing with their best friend.
AN:
Ah, exam fright… takes me back.
It strikes me as one of the greater risks of memory manipulation that the subject might not remember the kind of things that they have learnt that keep them out of danger. In this case: Rita's a bint.
Is anyone really surprised that Hermione jumped at the chance to befriend a teacher? No? Good.
Since it's been coming up in reviews: Harry might be able to use his deal with the Oak King as a weapon, but he doesn't see it that way. To Harry this is a wound. If it is a weapon, the blade cuts him keenly enough that he's not particularly eager to use it.