Hermione and Draco collaborated much in the same way throughout the
duration of the year, making it more than educationally rewarding for both.
They, of course, still put up the façade of hatred between each other, and
it worked beautifully. Hermione had actually begun to enjoy his company,
even preferring their clandestine late-night information sessions (when
things were too pressing or too private to send by owl) to the daytime
hours she spent with the "Priss-indors," as she had privately dubbed them.
Keeping in touch over the summer wasn't going to be easy. She, Harry and Ron had promised to write each other and hopefully spend time together before school started up again. She would nearly be on sensory overload if they kept in as close touch as they'd promised.
She wouldn't be able to sign her name on the letters to Draco; the Malfoys openly despised her and her "kind." She and Draco had devised a signature for her: a serpent at the bottom of the last page, artistically but surreptitiously holding her initials, HRG. He'd come to recognise it so well that she no longer needed to hide her initials in it, but she enjoyed finding new places to put them. Sometimes it was just the simple things that gave her pleasure.
Not surprisingly, the pair had become close friends, as close as they could be while still holding up their façade of pure hatred for one another. No one had figured them out. No one, not even the people they were purportedly closest to had any idea that Hermione was feeding Draco private information that had been confided in her. They never suspected her, even though she was probably the only one who knew those things about people. They all figured Draco had gleaned the information from other sources, especially his father. She was lucky.
---
The night before everyone was to leave, the 3 Musketeers, as Hermione had affectionately dubbed Harry, Ron and herself, stayed in the common room, talking until the wee hours of the morning. Many things were just expansions on what they'd discussed innumerable times, but Harry brought up a new, forbidden topic: Voldemort.
"I hate being seen as a hero," he complained bitterly. "I have no idea why I'm so powerful against evil, and furthermore, I hate being heralded as the Boy Who Lived and the defeater of Voldemort." Ron cringed, and Harry quickly apologised.
Continuing, he said, "Being called 'The Boy Who Lived' is just about as prestigious as being called 'The Boy Who Ate All His Vegetables' or something stupid like that. I wish people around here would treat me normally. I'm just a regular kid like all of the students, but for many, I'm their hero. I don't want to be. I hate being in the spotlight all the time. I feel like I'm taking away from other people, especially you two. You're my best friends, and I don't want you to be portrayed in other peoples' minds as 'sidekicks.' We're all equal in everything; it's unfair how this happens. I'm sick of it," he finished irritably. His eyes were flashing with anger at the people not present who placed him on a pedestal.
"I'm sorry for complaining," he said, embarrassed, seeing the looks on their faces. "I don't want to be a pain."
Ron took initiative and spoke. "It really is irritating when I'm referred to as your sidekick, recognised only as your friend, or am totally ignored in favour of you." Hermione nodded her agreement, while Ron continued with, "I know it's not your fault, but it really gets on my nerves. And sometimes it seems like you enjoy being heralded as the hero. Sometimes we'd enjoy it too."
"Sure, sometimes I do enjoy the attention. I never got any positive attention like that when I was growing up with my aunt and uncle, so sometimes I like it. I need to feel like I'm a worthwhile person, too. You guys must have gotten positive attention when you were growing up. Hermione, as an only child, you must have gotten some. You're a perfect student; your parents must be so proud. And Ron, I've seen your family. Even though you might have your differences, in the end you're a really close bunch. I never had any of that. So excuse me if I seem selfish, but I need it. I don't like or need it all the time, but from time to time, it makes me feel good," he finished, looking away from his two friends. 'They'll be mad,' he thought, 'and for good reason.' He was being selfish about all of the attention he received, but he didn't care. He liked hogging the limelight sometimes. He deserved it.
"You're right, Ron. I would like to be given the same attention as Harry gets sometimes. I feel that, even though I'm a good student, all I get is teased for it. We'd like some attention around here too," Hermione responded. "But we're all victims of things beyond our control here. I was born into a Muggle family, Ron's family doesn't have much money." At this, Ron flushed deeply and looked away from his friends. Continuing, Hermione said, ".and Harry did something completely unknown to him with powers and abilities he never wanted or asked for. We're all the same in that respect. We all need to accept, though, that Harry gets more attention because what he did.or didn't do, I suppose, lifted the black cloud from over the wizarding world. It's not that we're any less important; it's just that we're 'recognised' for different things."
All three sets of eyes met, and Ron and Harry's sparked with the realisation of what Hermione was saying. They were all just as important as one another, but for different reasons. There was no point in being angry with each other; they really only had each other for friends and a support system. They needed to band together.
Harry spoke first, slowly. "You're right, as usual, Hermione. We should all just let it go and be friends because we like and need each other. We'll all be jealous of one another at some time, and it will be completely justifiable."
Ron nodded, adding, "This is our time. We need to stay close in this school, what with people like Draco Malfoy and his cronies. We need each other." Hermione's wicked inward grin made another appearance, even though her eyes were glistening with tears. These boys were her faux-friends, but she felt like she might actually be getting attached to them.
'No, Hermione,' she chided herself. 'You know how your friendships always end. You end up alone because you'd rather study than spend time with them. Plus, you know what you're doing. You'd better rethink this decision to be close with them.' She wiped her eyes, trying to be covert, but it didn't work. Ron, sitting closest to her, saw it and put his arm gently around her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her.
He desperately hoped the gesture wouldn't be too much. He'd begun to have feelings he'd never had before in his life; feelings stronger for Hermione than just friendship. It was strange to him. While he figured she didn't feel the same, it was worth a try. If nothing else, she would take the gesture and face value and enjoy the comfort he offered.
She did. She felt like someone cared about her for more than her intellect and ability to offer sensitive information, and that someone honestly enjoyed her presence. His arm made her feel better. It comforted her and she smiled at him.
"Thanks," she said, taking her other had to wipe her face again.
She didn't move away or make any effort to move his arm. Ron was floored. He'd only just begun to feel anything like this, and he was enjoying the change. A small smile crossed his face as he replied, "What are friends for?"
Again, Harry felt left out of their private little world. He was getting used to it, though. It had been happening all year. He supposed they'd banded together in an effort to combat their irritation about not receiving the same recognition that he did. It was fair enough, he guessed, but he was still upset. 'I deserve good friends too,' he thought bitterly. 'They are my friends, but I feel like I'm being left out on purpose, since I don't have anything in common with them. I'm not poor, I'm not a genius.' He sighed.
He came back into the conversation just as Ron and Hermione decided that they were tired and were going to bed. Harry cursed himself for not paying attention to the conversation, but there was nothing he could do now.
Ron squeezed Hermione's shoulder with his hand before removing his arm, and she gave him a strange look. He was immediately embarrassed. 'Stupid!' he yelled at himself. 'Why did I think that this was a smart idea? What was I thinking?'
Hermione walked quickly out of sight to the girls dormitories. This time she was the one who was internally cursing.
'That was cruel,' she reprimanded herself. 'You shouldn't have let him believe anything but the truth. You don't even like him. What were you thinking?' But, her conscience nagged her, maybe she did like him. Maybe it was beyond a friendship. She pushed that thought way back into her head, ignoring. She didn't want to become truly attached to them.
'The summer will iron this out,' she thought, desperately hoping that she was right.
---
The next morning, when everyone woke up, their things were already on the train, which was scheduled for departure at 11am sharp. Breakfast was drawn out, with end-of-term announcements and lengthy goodbyes.
This didn't matter to the trio. The atmosphere was still painfully tense between them. Ron couldn't even look at Hermione after what had happened. She sat across from him and Harry, eyes cast down at her plate. She felt badly about what she'd done.
Neither Hermione nor Ron had eaten anything. Their food had been pushed around their plates until it was cold and disgusting, and still they pushed it. Harry felt incredibly uncomfortable between the two of them. His two best friends were at odds for some reason, and he couldn't figure out why. However, he didn't think asking would be appropriate. Not now, at least.
It felt like forever until the meal was over. When it finally was, Harry went off on his own to say goodbye to a few people, Hagrid in particular, to leave Hermione and Ron alone.
Twisting his toe into the ground, Ron looked away from Hermione. Hermione, eyes fixed on the ground, picked at the skin beside her thumbnail until it started to bleed. Suddenly it was too much. The tension reached its peak and both of them started speaking at once.
"I'm sorry. I..no, don't.wait." Ron said quickly.
"I was wrong.didn't mean to.sorry." Hermione replied just as quickly.
Neither of them understood what the other was saying, so Hermione stopped Ron, saying, "You go first."
Suddenly nervous, Ron flushed a deep crimson. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
'Spit it out!' he thought angrily. 'You need to talk to her!'
He cleared his throat, stalling momentarily.
"I'm.uh.I'm sorry for last night," he mumbled, still looking away. "I, uh.I.um, overstepped my bounds, I guess. I'm really sorry. I didn't think." Now his face was a deep crimson, clashing horribly with his hair.
Hermione turned to face him, but he still wouldn't look at her.
"Look at me," she ordered.
Ron complied, but not without a fight.
"I'm sorry for reacting the way I did last night. It was really nice to have your arm around my shoulder; it really comforted me. But, to be honest, I don't feel like this is the right time for anything like this," she paused, saw the crushed on his face, and quickly added, ".but.friends?" She forced a smile, extending a hand as a truce.
Ron, after thinking on it for a moment, reluctantly brought his hand to meet hers. He was still incredibly embarrassed. Not only had he made a fool out of himself the night before, but now he'd lost his inner fight. At least it was the end of the year, and he didn't have to see her till the start of next term.
He sighed and attempted a smile. It didn't come out too well. 'Oh well,' he thought. 'I don't care.' But he did. He knew he did. He had to persuade himself not to care; to detach himself from the situation. He sighed. When did it become this difficult?
Hermione quickly withdrew her hand, upon seeing the strange look on Ron's face. What had she done?
Ron stood up and walked off without looking back, searching for Harry.
---
When the train reached Platform 9 ¾, the three of them remained seated, looking at each other uncomfortably. Eyes shifted from person to person, and nervous habits were surfacing. Ron twisted his toe into the carpet in front of him, Harry picked at his scar, and Hermione picked at the skin by her thumbnail, ripping away the scab from the previous night.
Finally, Hermione stood up, cleared her throat, and said quickly, "Gottagomyparentswillbewaiting," and left without looking back.
Harry looked at Ron questioningly. "What.?"
"Ummm.." Ron stalled. "Ummm.I don't know."
"How can you not know?"
"I just don't!" With that, Ron stormed out of the compartment, leaving Harry wondering what he'd done this time.
---
Once at home, Hermione quickly unpacked. She, being the resourceful girl that she was, walked around outside her neighborhood to find an owl to send post to Draco. She didn't know how well it would work, but it might be worth a try.
Her letter began:
"Draco:
Update: RW enjoys HG's company, much more than a friendship. Intentions shown the night before going home, in the Gryffindor common room. I have successfully created rifts btw. HP, RW and HG. Use to your advantage.
HP hates his fame. RW jealous. VERY jealous. HG feels similar. Use both: make it seem as if you found this out on your own.
Any other news, will owl you.
HG"
She hoped that this barn owl she'd found would be capable of delivering mail to the Malfoy residence. If not.she wasn't sure what she'd do. Maybe she'd convince her parents to take her to Diagon Alley to get her books, and then announce that she needed a magical creature, and that owls were the most useful.
'Yes,' she thought. 'If I don't receive a reply, that's what I'll do.'
Her wicked smile resurfaced, after having been in hiding for such a long time. Being bad felt so good.
**Sorry it's been forever! I've been so busy with school, work, practicing, etc.that I haven't had time to do this. But I'm working on it! R&R me. --Lauren
Keeping in touch over the summer wasn't going to be easy. She, Harry and Ron had promised to write each other and hopefully spend time together before school started up again. She would nearly be on sensory overload if they kept in as close touch as they'd promised.
She wouldn't be able to sign her name on the letters to Draco; the Malfoys openly despised her and her "kind." She and Draco had devised a signature for her: a serpent at the bottom of the last page, artistically but surreptitiously holding her initials, HRG. He'd come to recognise it so well that she no longer needed to hide her initials in it, but she enjoyed finding new places to put them. Sometimes it was just the simple things that gave her pleasure.
Not surprisingly, the pair had become close friends, as close as they could be while still holding up their façade of pure hatred for one another. No one had figured them out. No one, not even the people they were purportedly closest to had any idea that Hermione was feeding Draco private information that had been confided in her. They never suspected her, even though she was probably the only one who knew those things about people. They all figured Draco had gleaned the information from other sources, especially his father. She was lucky.
---
The night before everyone was to leave, the 3 Musketeers, as Hermione had affectionately dubbed Harry, Ron and herself, stayed in the common room, talking until the wee hours of the morning. Many things were just expansions on what they'd discussed innumerable times, but Harry brought up a new, forbidden topic: Voldemort.
"I hate being seen as a hero," he complained bitterly. "I have no idea why I'm so powerful against evil, and furthermore, I hate being heralded as the Boy Who Lived and the defeater of Voldemort." Ron cringed, and Harry quickly apologised.
Continuing, he said, "Being called 'The Boy Who Lived' is just about as prestigious as being called 'The Boy Who Ate All His Vegetables' or something stupid like that. I wish people around here would treat me normally. I'm just a regular kid like all of the students, but for many, I'm their hero. I don't want to be. I hate being in the spotlight all the time. I feel like I'm taking away from other people, especially you two. You're my best friends, and I don't want you to be portrayed in other peoples' minds as 'sidekicks.' We're all equal in everything; it's unfair how this happens. I'm sick of it," he finished irritably. His eyes were flashing with anger at the people not present who placed him on a pedestal.
"I'm sorry for complaining," he said, embarrassed, seeing the looks on their faces. "I don't want to be a pain."
Ron took initiative and spoke. "It really is irritating when I'm referred to as your sidekick, recognised only as your friend, or am totally ignored in favour of you." Hermione nodded her agreement, while Ron continued with, "I know it's not your fault, but it really gets on my nerves. And sometimes it seems like you enjoy being heralded as the hero. Sometimes we'd enjoy it too."
"Sure, sometimes I do enjoy the attention. I never got any positive attention like that when I was growing up with my aunt and uncle, so sometimes I like it. I need to feel like I'm a worthwhile person, too. You guys must have gotten positive attention when you were growing up. Hermione, as an only child, you must have gotten some. You're a perfect student; your parents must be so proud. And Ron, I've seen your family. Even though you might have your differences, in the end you're a really close bunch. I never had any of that. So excuse me if I seem selfish, but I need it. I don't like or need it all the time, but from time to time, it makes me feel good," he finished, looking away from his two friends. 'They'll be mad,' he thought, 'and for good reason.' He was being selfish about all of the attention he received, but he didn't care. He liked hogging the limelight sometimes. He deserved it.
"You're right, Ron. I would like to be given the same attention as Harry gets sometimes. I feel that, even though I'm a good student, all I get is teased for it. We'd like some attention around here too," Hermione responded. "But we're all victims of things beyond our control here. I was born into a Muggle family, Ron's family doesn't have much money." At this, Ron flushed deeply and looked away from his friends. Continuing, Hermione said, ".and Harry did something completely unknown to him with powers and abilities he never wanted or asked for. We're all the same in that respect. We all need to accept, though, that Harry gets more attention because what he did.or didn't do, I suppose, lifted the black cloud from over the wizarding world. It's not that we're any less important; it's just that we're 'recognised' for different things."
All three sets of eyes met, and Ron and Harry's sparked with the realisation of what Hermione was saying. They were all just as important as one another, but for different reasons. There was no point in being angry with each other; they really only had each other for friends and a support system. They needed to band together.
Harry spoke first, slowly. "You're right, as usual, Hermione. We should all just let it go and be friends because we like and need each other. We'll all be jealous of one another at some time, and it will be completely justifiable."
Ron nodded, adding, "This is our time. We need to stay close in this school, what with people like Draco Malfoy and his cronies. We need each other." Hermione's wicked inward grin made another appearance, even though her eyes were glistening with tears. These boys were her faux-friends, but she felt like she might actually be getting attached to them.
'No, Hermione,' she chided herself. 'You know how your friendships always end. You end up alone because you'd rather study than spend time with them. Plus, you know what you're doing. You'd better rethink this decision to be close with them.' She wiped her eyes, trying to be covert, but it didn't work. Ron, sitting closest to her, saw it and put his arm gently around her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her.
He desperately hoped the gesture wouldn't be too much. He'd begun to have feelings he'd never had before in his life; feelings stronger for Hermione than just friendship. It was strange to him. While he figured she didn't feel the same, it was worth a try. If nothing else, she would take the gesture and face value and enjoy the comfort he offered.
She did. She felt like someone cared about her for more than her intellect and ability to offer sensitive information, and that someone honestly enjoyed her presence. His arm made her feel better. It comforted her and she smiled at him.
"Thanks," she said, taking her other had to wipe her face again.
She didn't move away or make any effort to move his arm. Ron was floored. He'd only just begun to feel anything like this, and he was enjoying the change. A small smile crossed his face as he replied, "What are friends for?"
Again, Harry felt left out of their private little world. He was getting used to it, though. It had been happening all year. He supposed they'd banded together in an effort to combat their irritation about not receiving the same recognition that he did. It was fair enough, he guessed, but he was still upset. 'I deserve good friends too,' he thought bitterly. 'They are my friends, but I feel like I'm being left out on purpose, since I don't have anything in common with them. I'm not poor, I'm not a genius.' He sighed.
He came back into the conversation just as Ron and Hermione decided that they were tired and were going to bed. Harry cursed himself for not paying attention to the conversation, but there was nothing he could do now.
Ron squeezed Hermione's shoulder with his hand before removing his arm, and she gave him a strange look. He was immediately embarrassed. 'Stupid!' he yelled at himself. 'Why did I think that this was a smart idea? What was I thinking?'
Hermione walked quickly out of sight to the girls dormitories. This time she was the one who was internally cursing.
'That was cruel,' she reprimanded herself. 'You shouldn't have let him believe anything but the truth. You don't even like him. What were you thinking?' But, her conscience nagged her, maybe she did like him. Maybe it was beyond a friendship. She pushed that thought way back into her head, ignoring. She didn't want to become truly attached to them.
'The summer will iron this out,' she thought, desperately hoping that she was right.
---
The next morning, when everyone woke up, their things were already on the train, which was scheduled for departure at 11am sharp. Breakfast was drawn out, with end-of-term announcements and lengthy goodbyes.
This didn't matter to the trio. The atmosphere was still painfully tense between them. Ron couldn't even look at Hermione after what had happened. She sat across from him and Harry, eyes cast down at her plate. She felt badly about what she'd done.
Neither Hermione nor Ron had eaten anything. Their food had been pushed around their plates until it was cold and disgusting, and still they pushed it. Harry felt incredibly uncomfortable between the two of them. His two best friends were at odds for some reason, and he couldn't figure out why. However, he didn't think asking would be appropriate. Not now, at least.
It felt like forever until the meal was over. When it finally was, Harry went off on his own to say goodbye to a few people, Hagrid in particular, to leave Hermione and Ron alone.
Twisting his toe into the ground, Ron looked away from Hermione. Hermione, eyes fixed on the ground, picked at the skin beside her thumbnail until it started to bleed. Suddenly it was too much. The tension reached its peak and both of them started speaking at once.
"I'm sorry. I..no, don't.wait." Ron said quickly.
"I was wrong.didn't mean to.sorry." Hermione replied just as quickly.
Neither of them understood what the other was saying, so Hermione stopped Ron, saying, "You go first."
Suddenly nervous, Ron flushed a deep crimson. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
'Spit it out!' he thought angrily. 'You need to talk to her!'
He cleared his throat, stalling momentarily.
"I'm.uh.I'm sorry for last night," he mumbled, still looking away. "I, uh.I.um, overstepped my bounds, I guess. I'm really sorry. I didn't think." Now his face was a deep crimson, clashing horribly with his hair.
Hermione turned to face him, but he still wouldn't look at her.
"Look at me," she ordered.
Ron complied, but not without a fight.
"I'm sorry for reacting the way I did last night. It was really nice to have your arm around my shoulder; it really comforted me. But, to be honest, I don't feel like this is the right time for anything like this," she paused, saw the crushed on his face, and quickly added, ".but.friends?" She forced a smile, extending a hand as a truce.
Ron, after thinking on it for a moment, reluctantly brought his hand to meet hers. He was still incredibly embarrassed. Not only had he made a fool out of himself the night before, but now he'd lost his inner fight. At least it was the end of the year, and he didn't have to see her till the start of next term.
He sighed and attempted a smile. It didn't come out too well. 'Oh well,' he thought. 'I don't care.' But he did. He knew he did. He had to persuade himself not to care; to detach himself from the situation. He sighed. When did it become this difficult?
Hermione quickly withdrew her hand, upon seeing the strange look on Ron's face. What had she done?
Ron stood up and walked off without looking back, searching for Harry.
---
When the train reached Platform 9 ¾, the three of them remained seated, looking at each other uncomfortably. Eyes shifted from person to person, and nervous habits were surfacing. Ron twisted his toe into the carpet in front of him, Harry picked at his scar, and Hermione picked at the skin by her thumbnail, ripping away the scab from the previous night.
Finally, Hermione stood up, cleared her throat, and said quickly, "Gottagomyparentswillbewaiting," and left without looking back.
Harry looked at Ron questioningly. "What.?"
"Ummm.." Ron stalled. "Ummm.I don't know."
"How can you not know?"
"I just don't!" With that, Ron stormed out of the compartment, leaving Harry wondering what he'd done this time.
---
Once at home, Hermione quickly unpacked. She, being the resourceful girl that she was, walked around outside her neighborhood to find an owl to send post to Draco. She didn't know how well it would work, but it might be worth a try.
Her letter began:
"Draco:
Update: RW enjoys HG's company, much more than a friendship. Intentions shown the night before going home, in the Gryffindor common room. I have successfully created rifts btw. HP, RW and HG. Use to your advantage.
HP hates his fame. RW jealous. VERY jealous. HG feels similar. Use both: make it seem as if you found this out on your own.
Any other news, will owl you.
HG"
She hoped that this barn owl she'd found would be capable of delivering mail to the Malfoy residence. If not.she wasn't sure what she'd do. Maybe she'd convince her parents to take her to Diagon Alley to get her books, and then announce that she needed a magical creature, and that owls were the most useful.
'Yes,' she thought. 'If I don't receive a reply, that's what I'll do.'
Her wicked smile resurfaced, after having been in hiding for such a long time. Being bad felt so good.
**Sorry it's been forever! I've been so busy with school, work, practicing, etc.that I haven't had time to do this. But I'm working on it! R&R me. --Lauren