CHAPTER UPDATED February 2022

Happy reading :)

Settings, stories, characters are all cannon, set in an AU, from a different POV!

Disclaimer: It all belongs to J K Rowling, apart from the obvious changes


Chapter Six: Invitations

Hermione stirred noisily, the remnants of her dream bleeding through into her waking consciousness. She saw that she was cuddled up in her own little bed, the crisp white sheets falling over her small body as she dreamed away her life. There were books and knowledge and magic that she could explore to her heart's content, free from persecution and free from restraint. She smiled peacefully to herself surrounded by photo frames containing pictures of her family atop her dark oak bedside chest of drawers, a fresh morning air drafting in through the vents in her window. And then he was there. Directly in front of her, his nose pressed up against her own and staring directly into her face.

"You weren't saying that when you were coming on to me, now were you?" He breathed into her, startling her fully awake. She was breathing heavily, propped up against Master Weasleys bed, her legs folded painfully beneath her.

'Great.' She thought miserably, 'Now I can't even escape him when I'm asleep.' They had coexisted in relative silence since her outburst outside of Gryffindor Tower and she had avoided him as best as she could. His words had continuously resonated around her skull ever since and she couldn't shake them from her. 'Dickhead. He's got some nerve. I was just thanking him like I do everyone else. He thinks far too much of himself…'

His loud snores were reverberating around the room and a trail of dribble leading from his lips was puddling upon his bed sheets. She groaned in disgust and then sat up straighter, trying to stretch herself out, her arms anaesthetized from the weight of her head being rested on them since the night before. She looked around her to Carla who was curled up at the bottom of Master Potter's bed, slightly tangled up in the drapes that hung there, sleepily grinning at her. She smiled back and attempted to stand, pushing herself up using the edges of the bed, swaying heavily. Her legs felt like jelly, barely able to move, seized in place and extremely heavy.

Eyes wide and straining, she hauled herself fully upright, only to topple forwards heavily with little time to break her fall with her arms. She knocked the wind right out of her Master, forcing him to bolt upright and exhaling through a deep bellowing moan.

Hermione felt her face fall and pale as she tried to regain her balance and push back off him only for her legs to give way again, allowing her to crash to and flail about the floor wildly as her legs tingled numbly. A strange sound escaped her throat, a strangled and stifled cry as she writhed, an inhuman noise which was more likely to have come from Crookshanks than her. A slight giggle wafted over her as Carla peered over the edge of her own Master's bed, her bum pushed high up in the air, with he himself sat up. There was a slightly bemused look plastered upon his face, squinting over at her, a hand wafting about the top of his bedside drawers, looking for his glasses. The other boys within the dormitory who had previously been fast asleep begun to stir, hazily craning their necks over their sheets to look at her.

Yet Hermione could look at only one face, burning brightly with both anger and embarrassment at her, matching her own crimson flush. She had seen that look far too many times before and cringed, allowing her hair to cover her face messily as she looked to the floor, anticipating the coming shrieks that would undoubtedly leave his lips. She could hear a low growl rumbling in his throat and readily braced herself for any rage he was about to unleash upon her.

Yet it never came, instead he simply stood in front of her, landing heavily and then stomped away noisily. Giving a large sigh of relief she turned back to Carla, grinning widely, only to find her friends face pale and uncomfortable. Hermione became unnerved suddenly, not daring to blink or even to look behind her to whatever her friend was staring at. She felt something cushion-like hit her abruptly hard in the back of her head, pushing her forwards a little from the force. She reached behind her slowly and as her fingers brushed against the fabric she winced with realisation and snapped her head around towards Master Weasley. She filled her face with a sense of begging, her head shaking violently from side to side in small, swift movements.

He smirked evilly at her as she looked down to her maids' outfit and gave a small fake cry as he began to change behind the screen by his bed. She didn't move, only continued to whimper quietly. This was the one thing she truly hated about him. It was her most hated punishment and he knew it.

"Granger!" She stopped sniffling and looked up to him, a faint glimmer of hope within her that he had taken pity on her. "Change! Now!" She winced slightly, but pulled herself from the floor, nonetheless, lazily dragging herself over towards the screen that her Master had just appeared from behind, dressed in his Gryffindor robes.

As the room disappeared from her view, Hermione sighed, and, holding the tiny dress up high, and she thought back to that fateful day on which it had been purchased. Both she and Master Weasley had walked from Hogwarts together, taking the long way down towards Hogsmeade, the small rural community coming into view as they had passed by a diminutive forest. She had gasped giddily, seeing the village only for a second time since the night of her arrival. Running past her Master and towards the picturesque cluster of thatched cottages, staring open-mouthed at the small, enchanted candles hanging about the trees surrounding the outskirts and illuminating the path towards it.

She saw the small train station, which The Hogwarts Express pulled up at every year, transporting students to and from home as she had done so herself, surrounded by various homes belonging to the residents of Hogsmeade. A range of shops lined a single street, surrounded by a scattering of quaint cafés and bustling pubs, filled with students, staff and residents alike. Her breath leaving her, Hermione had giggled wildly, wanting to explore every inch of it. It would be her only chance unless Master Weasley asked her to accompany him in three years' time when he became of age.

He had shouted to her, "Granger! Get here! That's an order!" and she had winced as pain had shot through her in response. Yet she could barely contain her excitement, hurriedly turning and trudging back to him through the slippery sludge of dirt underfoot. He had given her a disapproving look and then continued on his way, and she followed him expectedly. As the two of them had walked through a small street, Hermione had begun unwarily muttering to herself, gazing at the various names of the different shops, and looking into the windows as much as she could,

"Honeydukes..." She had muttered, her eyes wide at the sheer mountain of sweets inside, "Potage's Cauldron Shop..." She had noted the high turrets of cauldrons, threatening to topple over and out onto the street. Turning to the opposite side of the street she had gasped excitedly, "Ollivander's Wand Shop!" Her face had broken into a large smile, Hermione almost running forwards, but stopping as Master Weasley had rounded on her angrily. She had shuddered, and then returned to his side, following him again, disheartened that she would not be able to enter.

Yet as they had stopped and she turned to her right, her eyes had lit up, burning brightly once more. Crafted high above the door in peeling letters was 'Tomes and Scrolls', and she turned to him in delight, pleading with all her features for him to take her inside. 'He's obviously not so bad after all,' She had thought foolishly, barely noticing as he walked away from her. She had rested a hand upon the windowpane, looking to the book just inside, 'The Standard Book of Spells, Grade One'. It captivated her and she had unintentionally held her breath.

"Granger! Get in here now!" She turned, noticing he had walked into Gladrags Wizardwear next door and had been talking to a woman who had come bustling forwards, a large shaky grin plastered over her face.

She had given the book one last fleeting look and then trudged over to him, following him back into the shop. As she had stepped in, Hermione remembered being oblivious to the rest of the shop, eyes fixated in front of her, despite its immaculate state of the room and the beautiful garments on display there.

In front of her, upon a wooden mannequin, had lay the outfit she now held up in front of her. Her feelings towards it had not changed in all those years. His displeasure had only increased as she outgrew it. It was degrading and humiliating and infuriated her. She sighed, hearing him shouting at her again now,

"Granger! I want food, NOW! Breakfast doesn't wait for you!" She huffed and quickly finished changing into her derogatory uniform. She tugged it as far down as it would possibly go and gave herself an internal pep talk.

"GRANGER!" Hermione scuttled from behind the screen, finding him alone and waiting for her by the door, an annoyed and unhappy look plastered over his face, arms folded tightly to match his pursed lips.

~x~x~x~

Master Weasley sat in the Great Hall along with Master Potter & Master Longbottom, happily and greedily shovelling food into their mouths as Hermione stood behind them, a weighty jug of pumpkin juice in her hands, slowly dragging her down towards the floor. She huffed, shifting the load slightly, allowing the tension in one arm to disperse slightly, whilst further straining the other. She groaned again as the pain returned once more.

She could see the boys messily filling their faces, bits of egg splattering about the table as they thrust their cutlery about rowdily. They were talking loudly about nothing and everything and laughing at one another's stupidly alarming jokes. Hermione sighed heavily, hearing her Master proclaim loudly, whilst grinning widely,

"And then he slapped her!" There was a sudden roar of laughter from all around him, his friends clearly finding ample amounts of amusement from this punchline, but her brows only furrowed in frustration. She had heard the story several hundred times before over the past five years of having to attend various meals with him and she saw little amusement in it. Already embarrassed and in pain she couldn't contain herself any longer, control slipping from her grasp,

"For Merlin's sake Ronald! It's just not even funny! You are ridiculous!" She glared down at him with heated intent as everyone in the immediate vicinity fell silent. She could feel the shock in those nearest at the sudden outburst of a Muggleborn slave against her Pureblooded Master. Immediately she dropped the jug allowing the thick orange syrupy liquid to cover the floor and the two of them as she clasped a hand to her mouth. There came a second wave of hushed whispers from around the hall, with various students pointing in their direction, whispering, and laughing. A Slytherin, whom she vaguely recognised as Master Vincent Crabbe, friend to the Deputy Minister's son, with his short plump body and deep growling voice, called over to them,

"Oi! Weasley! Keep your bitch under control! This is becoming a regular entertainment at breakfast!" A great howl of laughter erupted through the hall as his fellow students cackled and screamed incoherent insults at Hermione as Master Crabbe sat back down. He looked incredibly pleased with himself, and Hermione had to resist the urge to retrieve the jug and throw it in his direction.

Instead, she bit her lip hard to avoid speaking, hanging her head low to give the impression she was ashamed of herself. She felt her arm be pulled downwards violently, and she came face to face with Master Weasley, staring directly into his enraged face. He raised his voice brutally at her once more,

"I bring you here to punish you and this is what you do? Show me up! Do you want a worse punishment? Do you want to see how far you can push me? Do you?" His face was burning brightly as her lip trembled slightly and she flushed scarlet as his breath tickled her face. There was very little he could do to embarrass her further and she eyed his robes cautiously. She knew his wand would be in there somewhere and wondered if she had finally pushed him to the brink of using it. However, her fear and worry dissipated suddenly as she caught Master Potter just behind her Master's head, who winked at her playfully and gave his friend a sharp jab to the ribs. Master Weasley let her go and she straightened immediately, stiff, and not daring to move.

'Why do I have to get myself into these situations all of the time,' She scolded herself, 'Just keep your damn mouth shut,'

"Come on Ron," Harry interrupted, spinning his friend around and back towards the table with one great yank of his head, "Eat your sausage mate." He shoved a particularly large wedge of meat to the back of aster Weasley's throat before he could reply. He choked slightly, but his anger subsided significantly as he began to chew happily regardless. Hermione eyed them both suspiciously as Master Potter looked around. Seeming satisfied, he grinned up at her, his eyes glinting as he watched her out of the corner of his eye, staring at him intently as his wand slid from up his sleeve and into his hand.

Hermione took half a step back, fearful that someone would catch her looking and accuse her of attempted theft. Though seeing no one had seemed to notice, she stole a second glance at him. Mesmerised, she watched as he flicked it gracefully in her direction,

"Scourgify." He mumbled and the spilt pumpkin juice evaporated from around them, leaving all the surfaces it had touched completely spotless, other than the new flecks of food that Master Weasley was continuously depositing about. He smiled up at her once more and then replaced his wand quickly before bending down to pick up the empty jug and handing it to her.

"I think you should go and get some more before he kills you."

She nodded slightly, grateful for his kindness. She understood why Carla regarded him so highly. He knew the dangers in engaging with Muggleborns and had his moments of showing his displeasure. He was flawed, but he was kind. She often thought she would have enjoyed being his friend if they had met elsewhere.

Hermione turned away from him, smiling, and then rushed up towards the far end of the hall, her small legs carrying her to the large doors leading to the Entrance Hall. Here she placed the jug upon a small table, allowing it to refill itself to the brim with fresh cool juice. As she spun around, ready to make her way back towards her Master, she jumped slightly as Viktor came into her view, standing in front of her.

"Oh! Viktor!" She smiled up at him and he did so back to her. She was trying not to spill any more of the juice as he pulled her into a small embrace by taking her shoulders lightly. He must have sensed her discomfort and he took the jug from her and began making his way back towards the Gryffindor table. Hermione flushed a little, thankful for his assistance and then scuttled behind him, "You don't need to do that, I can carry it," She laughed slightly, placing her hands over his on the jug and trying to pull it from him, "Let me take it." Yet he pushed away her hands gently, looking determined,

"My dearest Hermy-own-ninny, anything vor you. Let me help. I vont zee you for ze day." He carried on his way, and she smiled gently, walking next to him. She confidently ignored the stares and glares from the girls sat around her, hissing, and looking as though they were ready to pounce upon her and claw her eyes out. She knew that they just didn't understand their relationship and Hermione was content enough to not let it phase her.

"Thank you."

"There iz something I vish to discuss vith you." He looked down at her, and then lent in closer, "About the upcoming vall that your school iz hoosting." He whispered, but she simply looked confusedly up at him.

'He must be mistaken. I would know something about it if it were true,' She thought, eyeing him a little suspiciously,

"A ball? As in a dance?" She clarified rather loudly, causing Viktor to flinch and look slightly panicked,

"Shhh!" He hastened at her, giving a fleeting sheepish look around them both. Aware that they were very close to the Gryffindor group now, Viktor rushed himself before they were within earshot, "The Muggleborns are not meant to know aboutz it. Fifth year and up. And only for zose who are off 'higher blood status', I am told. Ve vill talk later." He nodded largely at her, which she returned hastily, a thrilling rush of excitement filling her.

She saw Master Longbottom give Master Weasley a small nudge in the arm across the table, who gave him a confused stare in return and then followed his gaze. His face hardened immediately as he looked to Hermione and Viktor, and she gulped a little. He snapped his head back towards the table, returning to his food, viciously stabbing at his plate with a knife, missing every single item and causing several beans to fly across the table. A disgusted Mistress Weasley snorted loudly at him, scowling at him, and muttered,

"Pig."

Viktor slammed the jug down rather loudly next to a disgruntled Master Weasley who seemed to be unable to look at either of them.

"Here, I leafe you Hermy-own-ninny." He smiled down at her, completely ignoring everyone seated nearby, "Come to me later?" He carefully took her fingers in his own and bowed low to her, kissing her hand gently. Hermione blushed scarlet, burning hotly and her stomach in knots as a few people in the hall stared intently at them and jeered rude comments at her.

'Oh my…Get a grip girl! It shouldn't be this embarrassing any more…'

After the previous year, the school had become accustomed to the lavish way in which Viktor greeted and treated her, and though many now barely took any notice whatsoever, those who did, did so with great resent. Many regarded him as a traitor for even daring to imply that a relationship between a Muggleborn and a Pureblood could exist. Others looked down on Hermione, baffled that a girl of such low calibre could capture the attention of a handsome, famous young man. Jealousy was all that she could attribute it to, and it was all misplaced.

'He's just a friend. He knows that.' She reassured herself,

"Granger." Came Master Weasley's dangerously low growl, and she reluctantly turned to him slowly, breathing shallowly. Yet she was pulled back abruptly by Viktor,

"And Hermy-own-ninny," He stood tall and dropped her hand lightly, instead putting a hand through her bushy hair.

'This is far too intimate…' She gulped and bit her lip, feeling incredibly awkward and confused,

"Granger." Master Weasley repeated, harsher this time. He was holding up his goblet at her but his eyes remaining fixed to his plate,

"You look beautivul today." Breathed Viktor, causing her blood to rapidly boil beneath her skin, and she found herself unable to respond to him.

"Hermione!" Mater Weasley called again, but she could not pull her eyes away. No one had ever said she was beautiful before, and she was dressed as far from it as she could possibly imagine. Viktor was looking at her strangely, it was something she hadn't seen before and couldn't place her finger on. She felt as though she would be unable to stop staring at his ultimately calm face until Master Weasley's voice reached her again,

"'Mione," She broke eye contact with Viktor and looked at the back of his head, her pulse slowing and her flush subsiding, a wave of calm ebbing over her. She gave Viktor a last glance and a small wave, and fleetingly watched as he turned away.

"Juice, please."

~x~x~x~

Mistress Luna sighed loudly as she skipped about the Ravenclaw Common room, swishing her long blond hair about as she went, looking like a mermaid swimming through the waters of the Black Lake. She paused to rest against the marble statue of Rowena Ravenclaw, as Kevin looked at her curiously from a small velvet cobalt couch where he was perched. Bounding over towards him she tripped suddenly over the midnight blue carpet, but landed gracefully beside him regardless,

"I'm meeting Neville tonight," She sounded ghostly ephemeral and Kevin had always found this to perfectly suit her personality. She was like a fleeting moment of time, ever changing and ever adapting, falling through life with an ever optimistic if slightly peculiar attitude.

"If it's not too bold Mistress…You seem to be spending an awful lot of time together," He wiggled an eyebrow at her and she sat up straight,

"Of course, that's too bold!" Even when she tried to sound angry, Kevin couldn't take her seriously. It wasn't in her nature to scold, and she was far too kind – hearted to issue punishments. He respected his Mistress greatly and she had always shown him kindness and compassion. If there was anyone he could be tied to for the duration of his schooling, he was glad it was her.

"At any rate, I'm just providing my services."

"Pardon?" Kevin's eyes bulged at her, though she barely acknowledged his alarm.

"Hannah Abbott." She stated politely, though not looking at him, instead at the ceiling blankly. "He likes her a lot. I'm just giving him some advice on charming women."

Kevin stifled a snort. He wasn't too sure that other women liked the things that Mistress Luna did, but thought the sentiment was cute nonetheless.

"She's really quite beautiful. I'm not surprised he has interest."

"She's Justin's Mistress. And we're both friends with Hermione…Weasley's servant." He could feel his face fill with distaste mentioning him. He could not stand the boy who Hermione seemed permanently glued to, "I know he's friends with Master Longbottom. Is there anything we can do to help?"

Mistress Luna looked at him suddenly, a strange expression on her face. It was contorted and not at all like her, as though she were fighting some kind of internal battle with herself. A few moments passed before she stated plainly,

"You should remember that's it's 'Master Weasley', Kevin. You'll get yourself into trouble if anyone else hears you."

Kevin stiffened under her gaze. She had been deciding whether to reprimand him or not but appeared to have been unable to be able to bring herself to do so. He nodded at her robotically and seethed internally.

"And I'm assuming you're wondering about me too?" Mistress Luna drew her legs over Kevin and laid back into one of the cushions, pulling a copy of The Quibbler from under it and flicking through the pages absentmindedly. "Rolf Scamander is the one for me. He's very thoughtful when it comes to naturalism and wants to become a Magizoologist. I think biologically we could be a very good match, don't you?"

Kevin shook his head slightly, smiling softly at her logic. To him, compatibility wouldn't be the first thing to enter the equation, if at all,

"Biologically matched? What about loving each other?" He asked thoughtfully, pushing his Mistress a little and looking at hr expectantly, though she did not return his gaze,

"Oh, and that too." She said thoughtfully closing the magazine and staring directly above her, "I think it's easy to love someone though, the hard part is to get them to love you back. And then you have to make it work." She looked down to her small smooth bare feet as they hung over the other side of his legs and began fiddling with the necklace of butterbeer corks that hung around her neck limply, dreamily distracted by seemingly nothing.

"Don't I know it," Kevin sat back in his seat, comfortable with her and feeling relaxed.

"And what about you? Have you told Hermione yet?" She said flatly, causing him to choke upon the air in his lungs, "That'll be a no then." He flushed pink, and stuttered,

"We...we're just friends Mistress! She's not interested in…Well…You know…" He was shifting in his seat rapidly and uncomfortably, no longer able to look her in the eye as she sat up straight to stare directly into his face.

"You?" Mistress Luna could sting even when she didn't mean to. But that was exactly right. He knew his stupid schoolboy crush had gone unnoticed by Hermione, but hearing it said out loud had made it that much more real. "Why not try and woo her? I highly recommend," She held up her hands to her ears and presented the dirigible plum radish earrings that hung from her lobes, smiling obliviously at his awkwardly flustered face,

"Believe me Mistress, there is nothing between us! She's just my friend; she always has been and always will be. There can't and won't be anything more." He rambled on at her pointlessly, "Just friends."

"Oh good."

There was a moments silence pass between them, and Kevin felt a small burning sensation in his stomach and curiosity got the better of him,

"Why is it good?" He asked slowly,

"Someone else is interested in her." His head shot up, and his eyes met his Mistress's. He was hurt by her words, but also confused. None of the other slabs had given so much as an indication that they liked Hermione is anyway more than friendship. And as far as he could tell, she had not revealed that she had liked anyone else either.

"Who?" He demanded, a little more forcefully than he should have or intended to, knowing he must have looked a little distressed at this point.

"It doesn't really matter," She ignored the tone of his voice, instead standing and beginning to walk away from him and towards the girls dormitories; "Nothing could come of it anyway." She left him to stare after her, dumbfounded by her proclamation, looking to his hands and momentarily running several other names through his head.

'Master Potter...He's always kind to her...No no, she doesn't really even associate with him. Only when she has to. Master Weasley? No, definitely not, he's the biggest twat going. No one could possible find that ugly git attractive.' He gasped, "Justin?"

Reprimand himself internally he gave a small laugh at the thought. 'Don't be stupid Kevin, she knows he's interested in someone already, besides, we're all best friends!'

He sat back again, thinking hard, his eyes closing slowly. They snapped open suddenly, barely having shut for a second, "Krum!"

~x~x~x~

"Why do you do things like that to me Granger?" Master Weasley snapped the book he was holding closed loudly, "Why must you insist on taking the complete piss whenever we go out anywhere?"

Hermione straightened her back, turning on the spot to face him, still holding her sweeping brush poised for movement. This was the first time he had spoken to her directly since breakfast. He had dragged her up to the common room and rammed a large revolting neon green octopus shaped hat onto her head to 'match her beauty' and then order her to clean the entire room on behalf of the Gryffindor House. It had taken her all day and she hadn't had chance to meet Viktor or even get anything to eat. She was starving and irritable and disinclined to put up with him for much longer. She brushed a tentacle from her face and one of the large eyes fell forwards on its spring, bouncing in front of her vision noisily.

Master Weasley was staring at her intently, clearly waiting for an answer, and she debated whether to be honest or not. There was no one else in the room, and there had been no traffic for well over an hour other than for him entering.

"You bring it on yourself." She muttered, though he had heard her clearly enough, his eyes narrowing at her. He said nothing for a few moments, and she resumed her sweeping.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She stopped again and was surprised his voice was less harsh than she imagined it would be. He was not scolding her.

"It's like I said. It's not even funny." She chanced a look at him, and he was staring darkly at her, his piercing blue eyes glinting at her in the dimmed light. The feeling he was giving off unnerved her slightly, but she decided it wouldn't do well to back down now, she had already dug herself a hole, 'May as well keep shovelling…'

"See that's the thing. It is funny. And you would know that if you chilled out once in a while."

She resisted the urge to beat him with her broom.

"Chill out? Are you sure it's not you who's taking the piss?" She glared at him, and he began to rise slowly to his feet. 'Oh shit…' She thought to herself dismally, 'Why, oh why, can I not just be quiet?' Sometimes she really hated how her mouth ran away with her, but she was already on his bad side, there wasn't much point in trying to recover now. He seemed annoyed with her, but not to such an extent as she had expected, almost as if he wanted the conversation to continue and he was trying desperately to keep himself in check.

"Have things changed? You know…From then?" He asked after a moments silence. She simply stared back at him, raising an eyebrow in confusion, "Do you remember that time when we sat by the water of the Black Lake?"

She knew instantly what he was referring to and inhaled sharply. Of course, she remembered, it was stained into her memory. She gripped the broom tightly as not to show her shaking hands.

They had been at Hogwarts only a week when Hermione had put her foot, quite accidentally, straight through the drapes around her Master's bed. He had immediately whipped out his wand, threatening her with it for the first time, sending fear and shock through her. She had bolted for the door and had run faster that day than she could ever remember. Sprinting down the staircase her lungs had burned and all she wanted was to get away from him. She didn't stop until she reached the edge of the lake and he had pulled her back roughly. She had squirmed trying to get away from him and supposed now that she must have looked crazy then. Perhaps he had thought she was trying to drown herself or something and the thought made her uncomfortable.

"What the hell Granger?" He had screamed at her, and she had shrieked back hysterically,

"Just for once I wanted a school where I could actually have some friends!" Sobbing loudly, she could see his awkwardly contorted face through her tears before he had pulled her backward into his chest and then fell into a large tree behind them, sinking to the floor and holding her still as she cried. She had been unable to see his face but could guess he didn't know what to do. He hadn't said another word to her that night and had never raised his wand at her again until this year.

Hermione felt embarrassed as her own words echoes through her mind. It had been true. All her hopes and dreams of a new start and normality had been shattered and she had told him so. She had not dared to be so weak since that day and felt vulnerable talking about it.

"Things are different now," She looked at him cautiously and studied his expression. She was unsure what it was, but she knew she didn't like it, "I'm different…You just never noticed."

"That's not true." He was staring at her intently now and Hermione could feel the conversation stalling slightly, as though he had more to say but dare not. As the essence of honesty hung in the air, she bit her lip a little and continued,

"I never expected you to come after me, you know." They locked eyes with one another, and Hermione's stomach suddenly felt like concrete, "No one…Well…It was the first…" She trailed off, not quite knowing how to finish. It had sounded simple enough to say inside her head. In his own weird way, he had cared in that split second enough to chase her down. Something no one had done for her before. And in that moment, he had changed her resolve. He had followed her and comforted her in his overly awkward and embarrassing way, and she had vowed to do the same for the other Muggleborns. The support she gave to her friends and the love they gave her in return had kept her coming back year on year and gave her the strength to persevere.

"You helped make me what I am,"

"So, I'm the reason you're a rebellious bitch then?" He seemed suddenly angry and ripped his book back open again and threw himself back into the chair. Hermione felt it was time to stop, the discomfort she felt was too much,

"If that's how you really want to put it...Sir."

"You've always been a know – it – all Granger. Don't even dare try to blame that on me. And too nosey for your own good." He flipped through a few pages and then stopped grinning at her devilishly, "So, let's see just how intrusive you actually are. What are the three most crucial ingredients in a Forgetfulness Potion?"

"I…How would I know..." Hermione's heart was beating wildly. She knew. Of course she knew. She had snuck enough looks at his textbooks and papers and eavesdropped on his conversations with the other Gryffindor boys enough to have picked up at least some theoretical knowledge. She began furiously sweeping yet again and ignoring him.

"Bullshit!" She stopped once more and spun around to look at him. Chewing her lip and looking at her hands again, the air was thick with tension. They both knew she was lying, "Stop doing that." He said a little softer, and Hermione looked at him as he blushed darkly.

'He's so weird…'

"That's it. I'm going to bed." He gathered up various pieces of parchment from the floor, stuffing the majority inside of his book and the rest into his arms and putting his quills in his mouth, before making his way over towards her. He whipped the hat from her head and headed for the stone staircase, ready to ascend.

In that moment she couldn't help herself, and gulped thickly, and watched him pause momentarily as she spoke,

"Lethe River Water, mistletoe berries, and valerian sprigs..."

He did not turn to look at her, no acknowledge her directly in any way. But Hermione could have sworn a small chuckle left his lips as he continued his way upstairs, leaving her alone.


Japan's Arc Angel x