Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue…
It was common knowledge that on any normal Friday afternoon, Hermione Granger would be found in 'her' nook of the library, hidden from the casual eye by shelves of dusty tomes. Occasionally another student would happen along, perusing titles for some essay or report, but the bushy-haired girl rarely noticed, being so entrenched in her own efforts. Often she would attempt to complete the homework assigned before the weekend started, leaving her days free for friends, and evenings to be used to revise or make corrections and add a few extra inches to her scrolls, whichever she deemed necessary. That was on a normal Friday.
Today, she'd settled into her spot, opening texts, unrolling a scroll and uncorking her pot of ink. It was a ritual of steps she went through to define her territory in the event that Harry, Ron, or any student chose to encroach on her 'study space'. Hermione had managed to thumb through a few pages in her herb lore book and scratch out notes on ingredients used in the Draught of Death for her Advanced Potions essay, when she felt the presence of someone entering the area. She ignored it, moving on to list the particular properties each item imparted to the potion, getting into the rhythm of reading then translating the dry text into her own words. Her rhythm was interrupted by an insistent throat clearing. This had her looking up to find the head girl watching her with a closed expression and her arms crossed in a haughty manner.
"Is there something you needed me for Marietta?"
"Yes, if you could pack your things and come with me please."
"Is it really necessary? Can't we discuss it here?" Hermione questioned impatiently. She'd only just started her work, and wasn't willing to pack everything back up without good reason.
"I'm afraid not." The older girl smirked slightly, "I believe this should be handled with some amount of privacy and secrecy. I'm sure that's something you would be all too familiar with, isn't it?"
"Still haven't forgiven me for the jinx have you?" Hermione narrowed her eyes, considering the head girl. They weren't openly hostile, but there was a mutual dislike between them, and they both knew it.
"That has no bearing on the conversation we are about to have Granger," the girl hissed. "Need I remind you that I am Head Girl, and as such, deserve no small amount of respect from the likes of you. In fact, you should be grateful that I have seen fit not to bring your head of house into this…yet." Her smile was smug, Marietta full of herself and her ability to pull rank over the prefect.
Hermione heard the threat in the older girl's words, and while she was unsure of what could have transpired to warrant Professor McGonagall's involvement, she was nervous about what the head girl could do. If she could prove somehow that Hermione was unfit in her role as a prefect, it could be enough to have her badge and title taken from her; something that hadn't happened in the last 30 years, according to Hogwarts: A History. She did not want to be known as the first student in that time to be stripped of the position, especially since she was hoping to be named head girl for her final year. And that meant, unfortunately, that not only did she have to comply with Marietta's request, but she also needed to be polite and keep her less than mannerly remarks to herself, something that she'd been having problems with of late.
She ought not to have even referenced the jinx from last term, knowing that the blonde hated the memory of purple spots covering her face, spelling out her duplicity, but something about the older girl put her back up. Perhaps it was the feeling of betrayal to the DA, for all that Marietta had likely, in her mind, felt she was doing the right thing. Hermione knew she should let it go, be the more mature of the two, but she couldn't, the petty feeling would not be banished.
None-the-less, as quickly as she had laid her boundaries, she gathered them up, meticulously stacking books, corking the ink, re-rolling her scroll of notes, packing them one by one as the head girl tapped her foot in irritation. "Are you about finished?" she questioned.
Hermione ducked her head, forcibly biting back a retort concerning the lack of assistance from the seventh year despite her need for haste. Not that she'd willingly accept help from this particular person without questioning a motive behind it. She slung her book bag over her shoulder with an almost respectful, "Yes, I'm all packed."
The head girl nodded sharply and jerked her head to the side which clearly meant "follow me" and spun around, leading the way first through the cases of books, out the library, then down the stone corridors of the castle. They ended the journey in a small, unused classroom. The door was closed and locked, an imperturbable charm cast to prevent eavesdropping. Their footsteps disturbed the layer of dirt of the floor, causing it to become airborne and resulting in both teens sneezing several times. Hermione gave a quick flick of her wand, uttering a charm she'd picked up from Mrs. Weasley while at Grimmauld Place two summers ago, and the dust was banished. Not to be outdone, Marietta levitated two student desks from the corner, transfiguring one into a wooden backed chair, complete with a cushion. The other became a plush seat, similar in style to the squashy chairs found in the Gryffindor common room, only in Ravenclaw's colors.
Naturally, the head girl took the more comfortable of the two chairs, leaving Hermione to convince herself that it was merely coincidence that the strawberry blonde was looking down at her when they were actually fairly close in height. Then again, she was a Ravenclaw, a house known for learning, and would know that sitting higher gave a person a more authoritative stance. But the tactic was more Slytherin in nature, and all hostility aside, the girl before her didn't seem to be the same sort as Pansy or Draco.
A subtle 'ahem' drew the girl's attention away from her internal analysis to Marietta and the discussion at hand. "I've noticed that you've been taking the early patrols every evening." She paused, likely waiting for confirmation. When Hermione offered none, she continued, "When the head boy and I draw up these schedules, we rotate the hours amongst the prefects in order to be fair and equitable between all the houses."
"My shift has always been covered and none of the prefects that I have traded with seemed to mind the switch…" she attempted to explain.
"That is not the point. The fact that you continuously find it necessary to trade duties with the others undermines the authority of the Head Boy and Head Girl." She uttered the titles, imbuing them with enough importance that Hermione could envision the words capitalized, as if anything less would be disrespectful.
"I can assure you, that was never my intent…"
"I am not finished Granger. As I was saying, it undermines our authority, particularly when you do not see fit to clear these changes with us. May I inquire as to why you see fit to go around Zacharius and myself when you swap patrol times?" At this, Marietta leaned forward, as though eager for the answer.
Hermione took a deep breath, sifting through the possible answers to find something that would not put the other girl's nose out of joint, discarding anything that contained the words 'silly bint' or referencing the juvenile resentment they had toward each other. She settled for what she hoped was an innocuous statement. "I hadn't considered that it would be an issue. Given that both you and Zacharius are both in seventh year, I'd thought that you'd be busy with NEWT level projects, not to mention your own head duties."
"How very presumptuous of you. If I didn't know better, I would think that you wanted to make yourself seem special, deserving of certain concessions, such as taking the first rounds…" The girl paused, realizing that perhaps she was almost to the point of letting her own personal feelings override the impartiality she had to maintain as the head girl. "I assure you that Mr. Smith and myself are more than capable of handling something as minor as scheduling issues. Are you unable to perform your duties at the hours you are listed for?"
"No, it's not that…"
"Very well," the older girl pressed on, unwilling to listen to excuses, "in the future, you will clear any shift changes with us first, are we clear?"
The bushy-hair prefect nodded her acknowledgement. "Then I formally request that I be scheduled for the first shift until the winter holidays." She looked down, feeling galled at the need to ask for permission to have the earlier shift when it previously was a simple matter of finding someone to trade with. Most of the Gryffindor prefects enjoyed the excuse to stay up later, also knowing the reason why Hermione was up so early every morning. At least they were discreet when it came to Harry's emotional trauma.
"I'm afraid that I must ask for a reason to make this change." Marietta's voice was sugar sweet, a Cheshire grin stretched across her face. Hermione noted that she leaned back casually in the chair, her arms crossed, which, in the language of the body, meant she wasn't going to get what she wanted, no matter how logical her reasoning.
Hermione pondered her answer, knowing that the 'none of your ruddy business' response that was begging to tumble out of her mouth would not gain her the results she desired. She also couldn't disclose the full truth of her belief that she needed to be on hand in the event of another one of Harry's more violent nightmares. The incident at the Ministry of Magic involving the five Gryffindors and Luna had been glossed over at the leaving feast last term, and as far as the Wizarding world was aware, Sirius Black was still a notorious murderer, so it was unlikely that Marietta would have understood were she to say anything of those circumstances. The older girl would probably scoff and tell her that Harry's problem was a matter for Dumbledore or Madame Pomphrey, not a prefect with delusions of greatness. And, truth aside, she didn't want to divulge a reason so personal to her, never mind the added conflict of inherent distrust of this particular seventh year student and her inability to keep secrets quiet. Somehow, it always came back to that situation.
So she settled for a highly abbreviated version of the truth, without any detail what so ever. "I have to help Harry in the evenings." She stated, meeting the girl's eyes, hoping to impress not only the honesty of her words, but that the subject was not open for discussion. "So, if that is everything, I really need to get back to my studies," she finished, reaching for her bag, preparing to stand and leave.
"Unfortunately, that is not all Granger," the head girl practically growled. "I find that your explanation is lacking, and as such, your request is denied. Your schedule is posted in the common room, and I expect you to return to it, no matter what arrangements have been made previously."
Hermione inhaled sharply, her nostrils flaring in irritation and her eyes narrowing as she opened her mouth to retort. She closed it with an audible snap as she remembered the need to not antagonize the head girl unduly and wondered if she would have been wiser to approach Zack about the schedule change instead. He may have initially been skeptical about the DA, but he had come around, and also didn't resent her for a hex resulting in the need to wear a balaclava for the final months of the school year. "Very well, is there anything further?" she asked through clenched teeth.
"Yes, as a matter of fact. I feel it is my duty to remind you that as a prefect, you are obligated to maintain a certain level of propriety as the younger students look to you as an example for their behavior."
"I have done nothing to compromise…" she could swear the other girl was enjoying herself a bit too much.
"While the occasional snogging may be overlooked, other things cannot be ignored. Reports of you being 'intimate' with Harry Potter have been brought to my attention. The fact that you feel it necessary to alter the duty roster to suit your priorities, the chief excuse 'to help Harry' which you gave me yourself, makes me question your claim. Indeed if I find that you've been continuing to 'help Harry' in such a manner, I will have to speak to Professor McGonagall and Headmaster Dumbledore about replacing you as a prefect."
"What in Merlin's name would make you think that I'm 'intimate' with Harry? Hermione asked in confusion. Surely there was no proof, the only evidence, circumstantial at best, were Collin's pictures. Pictures that Harry assured her had been taken care of, and Harry had never failed her before.
"Several of the Gryffindor girls have confirmed that you and your 'friend' are often found downstairs at inappropriate hours of the morning when I spoke with them. I've been told that Potter does not even bother sleeping in the sixth year dorms to maintain the pretense of proper behavior. Not days ago, the Slytherin prefects were commenting on a rumor regarding you without a shirt on in your common room, where anyone could have seen!" Marietta delivered the information in a snide tone, her eyes nearly gleeful in the belief that she had some form of hold over the prefect.
"The incident you are referring to has been exaggerated and completely blown out of proportion." Hermione hissed, half disgusted. "It was a simple matter of falling asleep in front of the fire while working on my homework, and as for the rest, it's rumor at best."
"Rumor or not, people are inclined to believe such tales, which is even more reason for you to maintain decorum befitting a Hogwarts student…"
"People like yourself you mean? People who want to believe the worst of a person, true or not? This is the only time I'm going to tell you Marietta, I am not, nor have I ever done anything that could be construed as improper with Harry, and, not that it's any business of yours, we are just friends." Diplomacy be buggered, she was sick of the rumors and speculation surrounding her relationship with her friend. "I have never been intimate with anyone, and that is something I would swear to under the influence of veritaserum."
"Convenient for you to say, given that it's controlled by the Ministry."
"Stuff it, you may be head girl, but so help me, if I hear you furthering these rumors or even breathing a word in regards to my personal life, I'll make the jinx from last year look like a first year's effort. Believe me when I say that I'll make it something so spectacular, it'll be worth being expelled over." She watched the girl pale with a feeling of satisfaction.
"Now, if that is all, have my studies to attend to before my patrol at 10:00." And with that, she grabbed up her bag and swept out of the room in an indignant fury.
She was halfway to the tower before the realization that she'd just threatened the head girl sunk in. It was, for all purposes, a bluff, but Marietta didn't know that, and there was a possibility that the older girl might call her bluff and report her. That thought made her stop, slumping against the wall. What had she just done? "Oh god," she sighed, allowing herself a moment of panic.
Then her anger was back. If it weren't for the gossips, this wouldn't be a problem in the first place. And she was back to storming down the hall, muttering all sorts of insults under her breath, managing to spit out the password 'tiddlywinks' when she reached the Portrait of the Fat Lady.
"Stupid, sodding, thick-witted, idiotic notions. Preposterous, far-fetched, freakish ideas! Merlin but I could hex the lot of them." She spotted Harry and Ron, playing chess under a window. "If they want something to gossip about, I'll give them something real to blab over between classes." She dodged the other inhabitants of the common room, ignoring the greetings called out. "Immature, irrationally inane, half-witted bints, the lot of them," she seethed, dropping her book bag with a thump.
"What-" was as far as Ron got, his friend having cut off the question by grabbing his hair and all but yanking his head up so that she could fit her lips to his. She registered that his were a bit fuller than Victor's had been, and warmer. And Ron smelled more of wool from his jumper instead of the pleasant mix of cologne and leathers that she associated with Krum. It was a pleasant kiss, especially when he managed to snake his hands up to cup her face, but it didn't elicit the tingly sensation in her stomach that kissing Victor had when she was fourteen. Dimly, she recognized that the background noise had faded to silence. It was so quiet; she could have heard a niffler sneeze in the dungeons. This had certainly gotten the attention of everyone in the common room, which caused her face to flush as she broke contact with Ron's lips.
"Alright there?" she asked, relieved that he nodded in the affirmative, if looking slightly bemused. "Good, you're taking me to Hogsmeade next weekend," she announced before retreating to the dubious privacy of her dorm.
"What the bloody hell was that?" She heard Harry ask when she was halfway to the stairs.
"No idea mate," Ron replied in a dazed voice as she began to climb up to her room.
She heard the noise start up by the time she shut the door. Good, she thought, let them chew on that and make it new fodder for the rumor mill, she was beyond caring at this point. She took out a parchment and scrawled out a quick note.
Remus-
Hope you are well and didn't suffer unduly this last full moon. I know it must have been
difficult to be stuck with nothing but memories that night. Your letter was greatly appreciated
by Harry, and seems to have done much for his mood.
All that aside, know any good hexes? The more embarrassing, the better, I'm in great need.
Gratefully yours,
Hermione
She folded and sealed it, stuffing the note in her pocket so that she could owl it before she started her rounds that evening. She then pulled the curtains on her bed and cracked open her books for a second time, this time in an unusual place for an unusually annoying Friday afternoon.
So here's chapter 7. Hermione's just not having a good sixth year, is she? Hehehehe… Thanks to all the readers, even if you don't review. A special thanks to BrennaM, Thank goodness you are back! What would I do without you to be my evil muse? Not to mention being a tease with your review! Hugs to Raspberri13, thanks for sticking with the story, I'm glad you like it. Cookies for Rane2920072 for asking what was up with Professor Pinderton. She's supposed to bug you, she bugged ME when I wrote her.Snicker Given the history of DA professors, can you really say you are surprised?