Chapter 15 - Bad Filler
Author's Note: Sorry for the long delay. I've been busy with work, and I've chosen to outline the entire story rather than continue writing by the seat of my pants. Hopefully this will result in a better story when it's finished, but it has kept me from releasing chapters as quickly.
XOXOXOX
"Because I saw him, that's why I'm bloody whinging about it! And like I keep saying, as soon as he saw me he just froze, and that… It made me really, really…" Harry trailed off, and murmured something under his breath.
"Yeah mate, really err… interesting," Ron yawned. Morgana's Breath, Harry just wouldn't shut up. "Oy. What are they up to over there?"
All the slimy Slytherins sitting in the sneaky Slytherin Common Table sinisterly pinned a small, suspicious badge against their chest. Hmm… Always so cunning, always so tricky, always so… Always so… Err… Badges? …Yeah, so err… So… That was their nefarious scheme? Bloody hell, who cared? Ron had never been the type to read some boring book over and over until he could recite all the symbolic meaning behind a blooming clam shell or whatever. They'd just put on some pins. Just pins. Well, at least it had stopped Harry from prattling on and on about his stupid dream. So he shrugged and forked himself another slice of ham, which were pretty wicked with his scrambled eggs.
"What do they say?" Asked Neville.
Ron brought a cup of orange juice to his lips.
"I Support Hermione Pettigrew," Harry said sourly.
"Of course. Should have expected as much," said Fred, glowering at the Slytherin Common Table.
"Can't throw out their biggest star," said George stonily.
"But can't have her a muggleborn either," said Fred.
"So just craft a new name for her," said George.
"Yeah," said Neville. "You're right… You reckon… You reckon this might have happened before, in Slytherin? Ya know… With err… With him. I always did wonder just where he came-"
"Bloody hell!" Ron spat out the orange juice, and slammed his hand on the table. "How many times have I told you to put your cup to your right, Harry? Ugh… What kinda wanker drinks their orange juice with pulp?!"
Bits of pulp swirled in the cup like bogies. Gross as spider legs. He shoved it back in front of Harry, and reached for his own cup of proper pulpless orange juice, but hesitated... He felt like he'd just overlooked something... something important.
"That's our Ronnie," said Fred.
"Always knows how to keep his mind on what really matters," said George.
"Watching the birth of the next Dark Lord?"
"Naw, what matters is that someone messed with his food."
Well maybe he wouldn't be so bloody concerned with it if his bloody brothers weren't always bloody messing with him. It wasn't easy being him, but they'd never understand. Nobody would ever understand his plight. And then bloody Harry, who was supposed to be his bloody friend, went and touched his bloody orange juice, and if he said anything then everyone said he was just whinging again and it wasn't fair and everyone was against him and nobody ever took him seriously.
…Well…
He was used to it.
"...But I thought she'd started to straighten herself out y'know," said Neville. "Didn't she come clean, I coulda' sworn I read it in the Daily Prophet the other day, but I dunno."
"She did," Harry said, shoving his eggs around with his fork. Didn't seem like he was gonna eat 'em, so they were fair game right? "But she was the first to put on that badge. What's she thinking?"
"I reckon she's probably, err..." said Ron, rubbing his chin speculatively. Could it be? Had he judged too hastily? He took another sip of orange juice, and thought on it a little more.
"Scared? Is that what you're saying," said Neville, nodding. "I s'pose with the Heir on the loose, I can't blame her for lying. I reckon I would too, if I were in her shoes. Probably…"
"But still," said Harry. "Even if she's scared, she can't just… Everyone's scared! What if the school gets shut down, and we all get sent back? But even so… Even so, we can't all just lie about our parents! We can't just let the Heir win!"
Ron snorted. Oh Harry, sweet Harry. Sometimes Harry seemed to forget that not everyone was like him.
Ron wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulder. "I reckon you're right…" Ron grabbed Harry's glass of orange juice and drained the cup. "I used to hate the stuff because the texture made me feel like I was drinking a cup of bogeys. But now I've realized that it's like I'm drinking a cup of bogeys, and that's totally wicked."
"Err…" Harry said, blinking. "What?"
"I'm saying pulped orange juice is the way to go," said Ron. "You were right about that, and you're wrong about this. Sometimes, you… Bide your time, y'know? Like in chess, you can't just chase the enemy king all the time. Sometimes you stall, set traps, try and get a read on the opponent. And some-"
Harry nodded. "I see. I get it. She's just-"
"No, I don't think you do," said Ron. "If Hermione wants to sit this one out, fine. It's not her job to be a hero. She's just a kid. So are you. We all are, right?"
Fred and George nodded, Neville seemed confused, and Harry…
"I just…" Harry was furious. "You're the one who doesn't get it Ron! If… If you see something evil and…" Harry squeezed his fists. "And you just ignore it, then… Then… Then evil wins! And if she's okay with that, then maybe she's someone different than I thought."
Ron leaned back in his seat, and swirled his orange juice in his mouth, licking some of the pulp caught between his teeth. "Eh? I dunno, that sounds kinda stupid to me mate."
Harry didn't seem to like that at all. Whatever. Ron just ignored him, and ate his breakfast. Eggs were good. Was that a hint of parmesan cheese in there perhaps? He couldn't get that at the Burrow! That was Hogwarts for you, bloody brilliant!
"I don't get it," Neville finally said. "I thought you hated her."
"Huh?" said Ron, helping himself to another slice of ham. "Hermione's brilliant. Super nice, too. She probably even saved me from a death eater. Why in Merlin's Beard would I hate her?"
"But you said you'd never forgive her," said Neville. "You said it! I know you did!"
"And I won't!" Ron huffed. "Not until she says she's sorry. She's being a total wanker, and if she thinks she can just walk all over…"
For some reason, Harry and Neville were giving him strange looks.
"I'm angry, but it's not like I think she's some future death eater. If I didn't really like her, I'd have never called her out on all the bollocks she pulled."
"You're still angry with her though, right?" Asked Neville. Ron scratched his nose. What was Neville on about? Well, whatever, it probably didn't even matter.
"Course I am," said Ron, glaring daggers at Hermione. She seemed to notice, and started preening, trying to fix her bushy hair. She was already a genius, already the most beautiful witch of their entire bloody year- or at least Ron thought so- but just like with Ginny, it was never enough. And now she was blushing and had the faintest little smile, like a ray of sunshine, almost like she was actually sweet on…
He was sitting next to Harry. That was about right. This wasn't a bloody fairy tale, and girls like Hermione Granger didn't fall for boys like Ronald Weasley. What the bloody hell had he let himself start to think…
Of course it was Harry, it was always Harry. What girl wouldn't like The Famous Harry Potter. Oh, and also the bloody Seeker for the Gryffindor bloody House Team. They must've been desperate, giving Harry a starting spot. Probably a publicity stunt, if Ron was The Boy Who Lived maybe he'd be the starting Keeper. And even if it meant Gryffindor lost to Slytherin, he hoped that Harry fell on his dumb face in his first match. For his own good really, too much success was…
What was he doing? Harry was supposed to be his friend. But it was just that… How much longer?
Harry. Hermione. Unless things went wrong for one of them… Just how much longer would they put up with him? With all his tantrums, where he acted like a bloody prat? How much longer until they realized that extraordinary people like them didn't hang out with sorry blokes like him. The only reason his family put up with him was because they had to.
Hermione smiled brightly and pressed the pin on her chest, making it flash. She was definitely looking at him as she did it.
"It says Skeeter Stinks," Harry said, squinting at the letters.
"Huh," said Fred.
"But didn't she use Skeeter to try and get at you?" Asked George.
"No," said Ron. "Hermione isn't like that. Ratting me out to Skeeter isn't her style."
The Twins shared a look and paled- like the time Mum had caught them trying to teach the ghoul in the attic how to play exploding snap. "We have to go," they said in unison, hurrying off.
Ron sighed. So Hermione hadn't taken the badge cuz she was afraid of The Heir. She'd taken it to make him feel better about that article Rita wrote. That was… It was… Ron frowned. Wait!
"She's trying to get at Skeeter so I have to forgive her!" Ron realized, scowling furiously. "That wanker! Well two can play at that game! Harry, Neville, let's catch the Heir of Slytherin and save Hermione. Let's see her try and use Skeeter on me then! Hah!"
"You're right," said Harry. "Instead of just sitting around complaining, I've got to do things myself." Harry stood resolutely. "I'm gonna invite Hermione and see what she thin-"
"No!" Neville shouted, leaping up from his seat and yanking Harry back down. Neville blushed as he realized what he'd done. "It's just… If the Heir realizes that the girl who captured Peter Pettigrew is after him, don't you think he'll target Hermione?"
Harry sighed.
Ron grinned. Thank goodness for Neville, it wouldn't do to have Hermione figuring everything out on her own again, earning another bloody Order of Merlin. No, he'd be the one to solve the case, and Hermione would be all like, 'Oh Ron, I'm ever so sorry that I lied to you about Scabbers. You protected me from the Heir of Slytherin, and you're ever so brilliant, so I know I could've let you in on my plan. Oh, how can I ever make this up to you?'
And then he'd be all like. 'No problem 'Mione. We'll always be friends.'
And it'd be totally true. He'd be worthy of standing next to anyone: Harry, Hermione, even Ginny!
And then Hermione would leap into his arms and be all like. 'Oh Ron. I'm ever so sorry that I called you a bloody cock up.'
Cock up? Ron winced. Hermione had never called him a bloody cock up. What a rubbish fantasy. Where in the world had that thought even come from?
XOXOXOX
"I'm sorry," said Ginny, smearing some jam on her scone. "I can't work on the Charms Essay with you, I've got quidditch practice all afternoon."
Hermione clucked impatiently. "You're telling me you'd really rather spend the afternoon playing broomsticks than in the library exploring the relationship between wand movement and spell power? If you're going to lie, please do try and make it believable."
"The Charms Essay is due in six weeks," said Ginny patiently. "Gryffindor versus Slytherin is in a month. I need all the practice playing seeker I can get."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're not even a starter! And even if you were, Harry is a better flier than you so it shan't make any difference how much time you waste goofing-off on that silly game."
The Slytherins next to her continued eating without comment. Finally! Not that they saw sense of course, they'd just realized that Professor Snape shared her views on quidditch, as had one Tom Marvolo Riddle (there was that name again!) which had surprisingly held sway among some of the students: Nott, Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Parkinson. Strange, they were all the children of-
"The better flier doesn't always win." Ginny smiled sweetly. "Me and Malfoy have thought-"
"Malfoy and I," corrected Hermione helpfully. It was important that Ginny learned to speak properly, lest everyone think her a dunderhead.
"Malfoy and I have thought up a set of- Well, I suppose you'll see soon enough… Just remember Hermione that playing Seeker isn't about catching the snitch, it's about catching the snitch before the enemy," Ginny lectured loftily. "Gryffindor's only got one seeker, but everyday in practice I crush Malfoy and Higgs. That's why when I play Potter, I'll be the one catching the… Perce, what are you doing here?"
"Is it so hard to believe I've come to check on you?" Asked Percy, his scarlet prefect badge shining against his neatly pressed robes. He clucked disapprovingly at Ginny's broomstick. "I've worried that you've been spending too much time with the Twins. They're really quite brilliant, but they waste all their time playing quidditch and pulling juvenile pranks. Can you believe they enchanted my badge to say 'pinhead'? It was an impressive bit of magic, wasted on such treachery- truly a shame."
"But that's vandalizing school property!" Hermione squeaked, quite appalled. "Against the rules! Aren't you their brother, why would they ever even think of doing such a horrid thing?"
"Quite correct." Percy nodded approvingly, and straightened his robes. "You must be Hermione Granger. I'm Percival Weasley. I'm top of the class of course- going for twelve OWLs, which is the most since my older brother Bill. Though twelve OWLs is nothing compared to what you've done obviously, may I perhaps see your Order of Merlin? If you're comfortable parting with it of course. It's a fabulous honor and, I do say, quite well deserved."
"Thank you Percival," said Hermione, showing him her Order of Merlin although it was only Second Class. Bah! It still glinted splendidly in the Great Hall's candlelight all the same. Good. She'd spent the better part of her morning polishing it, as was proper. "May I see your Prefect Badge?"
"I'm afraid not," said Percival importantly, handing her back her Order of Merlin, which Hermione secured around her neck. "School rules dictate that it must be on my person at all times."
"Oh, apologies," said Hermione, blushing. How embarrassing, not knowing school rules! He must think her a completely out-of-control hooligan!
Ginny gagged, earning her a smattering of giggles from the nearby Slytherins.
Percival sighed. "Laugh all you want Ginny, but am I to understand that you're turning down an opportunity to study with The Hermione Granger just so you can spend more time flying around on a silly stick? Do you not understand the fortune you've been given? You've the honor of studying with the most brilliant mind since Merlin himself! Witches throughout history would pay a fortune for such a chance!"
Ginny narrowed her eyes. "Did you really come to see me? Or am I just an excuse to introduce yourself to The Great Hermione Granger?"
Percival reddened. "Of cour-"
"Save it," snapped Ginny, huffing, and walking off to the quidditch pitch with one of the broomsticks Lucius Malfoy had graciously donated to the team after Draco had coincidentally earned the backup seeker role. It was called a Nimrod 200 or something-or-other.
Percival straightened his cloak. "Well… You've some Charms homework correct? I'm curious to see what you come up with."
Hermione nodded and the two honor students made their way to their natural environment- the library. Of course Percival wanted to study with her. If only her Ronald could be more like Percival, and appreciate her academic geniu… Hard work and slight cleverness. Admire her Order of Merlin, as he really ought, Merlin's Beard it was an Order of Merlin! What did it take to impress that impossible boy?
If only he would apply himself academically, he could be top of the cla- Second in the class. Twelve OWLs was really very impressive, and Hermione was quite sure that Ronald could accomplish it as well, if only he applied himself! That was obviously where she came in. After she swept him off his feet by sending that horrid Rita Skeeter to Azkaban she'd organize a strict study plan for Ronald and guide him to his potential and he'd naturally be ever so grateful and so they'd finally… Had that been a run-on thought? Oh how embarrassing! But for Ronald she'd let her thoughts run on and on and on and on and on.
"We're here," said Percival, "Now what was your Charms homework on Hermione?"
"The Severing Charm," said Hermione, opening up The Standard Book of Spells by Miranda Goshawk. "With the Severing Charm, cutting or tearing objects is a simple matter of wand control. The spell can be quite precise in skilled hands, and the Severing Charm is widely used…"
The print in her textbook vanished. What? She closed the textbook, and opened it to a random page. The text was back on the page, but in seconds the ink vanished inside the pages. She closed the textbook and opened it up again. Again the words vanished. Somebody must have stolen her textbooks and tampered with them… How very… Very…
"The Twins!" Percival huffed. "They did this, I'm sure of it!"
"But whatever for?" Innocent Hermione asked. "I've done not a thing to them! Oh Percival, how long do you think this will last?"
Percival rudely snatched up her textbooks. "I'll put a stop to this!"
"Stop?" Asked Hermione. "Why ever would you do that? This is ever so much fun! I wish everyone had their textbooks enchanted so! Don't you see Percival? It makes reading them quite the challenge!? Why, this is how I was taught to speed read! I hadn't thought it possible without my old Commodore 64!"
"Be that as it may," said Percival proudly, holding tightly onto her textbooks. "Cursing another student's textbooks is quite forbidden. It's my duty as a Prefect to report this to Professor McGonagall. Beyond that, if I were to ignore such juvenile behavior it would simply encourage more, so I'm being quite ethical you see."
Hermione's lip wobbled. Yes. Percival was quite correct. What had gotten into her, breaking the rules like some sort of terrible troublemaker? "Of course… Percival, could you perhaps help me with the Severing Charm? I've mastered the basic charm of course, but Ginny and I were planning on experimenting with different wand movements to see which produced the deepest cut, which allowed the most precision, et cetera, et cetera."
"Absolutely not!" Said Percival… being just a smidge bit... irritating. "The Severing Charm is to be studied in First Year, and only actually practiced in Second Year. You do realize that learning spells out of order is quite dangerous?! Too much powerful magic too young leads to accidents that may permanently scar your magic!"
"Nonsense," said Hermione testily. "Even if everything you said was true, I'm twelve already. I'm only about two months younger than Harry will be if he learns The Severing Charm at the proper time, so your argument isn't logically valid. Hah!"
"It's against the rules," said Percival… pompously. How dare he! Logical inconsistencies weren't to be ignored, not even for the rules! "So I shan't help you with The Severing Charm, and I'm afraid that if I find you practicing on your own I'll have to report you to Professor Snape." Percival's sigh seemed deeply put-upon. "I worry that you've been spending too much time with my brother Ronnie. But you must remember that you're not his sort. You needn't seek attention or approval- you're a genius not some slow-witted dunce. For goodness sake, you've already won an Order of Merlin!"
Hermione frowned. Percival was… Everything he was saying was correct of course, but… But still! He shouldn't speak of Ron like he was a loser, because even if Ron was a… An average student, even if he was as horrid as Neville, it still just wouldn't be right! There was more to life than some inconsequential Order of… Awards were important of course, but so were other things. Empathy. Kindness. Bravery. Selflessness. And humility…
What had gotten into her? Awards, grades, those were the things that Mum and Dad told her were important- and were what she'd come to value most! It had always been that way. That's why she got interviewed by famous reporters, that's why she was the best student since Tom Riddle, that's why she was popular, that's why her life was ever so interesting! Ronald was really quite talented, and after Hermione taught him how to apply himself he'd surely be a top student!
"Irma dear, find Miss Granger here some books on The Severing Charm," said Percy pompously. "That's diffindo of course, and please, do bring the books from the restricted section as well. Perhaps some biographies on Delfina Crimp too. She invented the charm in the 1400's. There, now you've plenty to put into Flitwick's Essay, you can read about those wand movements in books rather than perform dangerous experiments yourself. I'm sure with some hard work you'll earn yourself an O!"
Madam Pince glared but ran off to fetch the books.
"She's a professor," Hermione said, scandalized. "You mustn't speak to her that way!"
"And one day I'll be a high-ranking member of the Ministry. I'm just moving things along," said Percy insufferably. "Besides, Irma isn't a real professor. She's just a librarian."
Hermione folded her arms. They were just students, no matter how clever they may be. Staff was staff and they were to be treated with respect.
"Anyways, I really must be going," said Percy, in a self-important voice that made him sound like an utter buffoon. "Oh, and I do want to thank you. Unlike Ronnie, I understand that Scabbers was Peter Pettigrew, and I have the sense to see the nobility of your act. Do try to forgive Ronnie, you must understand that he's a little slow. It's been an honor to meet you, Hermione Granger."
"Pleasure," said Hermione sourly, because she had the manners to act polite- even to a self-important narcissist. Once the arse had disappeared, she thanked Madam Pince for the textbooks she'd collected for her. The librarian had even bookmarked the section of Magick Most Evile by Godelot which contained information on The Severing Charm, but Hermione found it quite impossible to look through the other pages- the text vanished within the musty pages- which was rather disappointing because its title promised ever so interesting magic. Not that Hermione was fascinated in the dark arts for mischievous reasons, her interest was entirely academic of course.
"So…" said the horrid Fred Weasley.
"Magick Most Evile," said George nervously.
"You're not planning on usin-"
"By Godelot," said Hermione testily. Really, it was only proper manners to cite the author. But these were the Awful Twins, always bullying Poor Ron, making Pompous Percy seem a saint in comparison, so expecting integrity of any sort from them was quite likely a foolish endeavor. "I'm reading up on the charm Diffindo, not something horrid like you two would!"
"You haven't happened to open your textbooks recently, have you?" Asked George.
"As a matter of fact, I have," said Hermione angrily. "That was quite an enchantment you put on them. I'd quite like to know how you did it, and perhaps how to perform the counterspell."
Fred and George glanced at each other.
"Fine," said Fred.
"We'll undo the Charms we put on your textbooks," said George.
"But we shan't show you how to do it," said Fred.
"And if we find out you've been messing with our Ronnie," said George crossley.
"You'll have more to worry about than some vanishing ink on your textbook," Fred warned.
The nerve! "Who are you two, to be warning me about hurting poor Ronald?" Hermione huffed. "You've been the ones pulling awful pranks on him, calling him names, humiliating him in front of the entire school! All I've ever done to him is protect him!"
"Nonsense," said Fred angrily.
"You're the first girl our dear, delicate Ronniekins has ever spoken to," said George.
"Yet you always look down your nose at him, making him feel small," said Fred.
"And we won't allow it," said George.
Hermione folded her arms. "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."
"Oh please," said Fred.
"That was just a harmless prank!" said George.
"It's rather obvious that Ronald admires the two of you," said Hermione crossly. "And you take advantage of it… Your older brother Percival confiscated my textbooks, the twit, even though I told him I didn't mind. But what the two of you do to Sweet Ron is ever so much worse!"
The Twins blinked.
"But Ronnie never seems to mind," said Fred guiltily.
"Sure he gets angry," said George.
"But it never bothers him for long."
"It's not like we'd ever try to hurt him!"
"He's our Ronnie!" Said the Twins passionately.
Hmm… Hemione tapped her wand against her lips thoughtfully. The Twins were… Actually rather endearing. Not at all like she'd been expecting. "You don't really believe any of that rubbish you've been spewing do you?"
"I…" said Fred. "N-"
"Wait!" said George. "You said you didn't mind what we'd done to the textbooks. And Percy confiscated your textbooks already! So why do you want to learn how to undo the enchantment we put on them?"
"It was just a really brilliant bit of magic," Innocent Hermione said, batting her eyelashes. "I'm interested in learning all that I can! In being the very best version of Hermione Granger that I ca-"
"Bollocks," said George, eyeing her carefully. "Don't go trying to pull one over on us!"
"You needn't be so rude, I can hardly see the harm in an innocuous fabrication," grumbled Hermione. "But if you really must know, the truth is that the enchantment could be used to help teach children to speed read, which is a method of reading that allows me to read an entire textbook in about an hour. If I knew the charm and its counter, I could create study materials, and make a few hundreds of galleons. I rather like the idea of being extraordinarily wealthy."
"Blimey," said Fred.
"Selling our pranks," said George.
"You really think there's a market?" Asked Fred eagerly.
"But of course," said Hermione. "Teach me the spell and I can create a prototype. I can test the teaching method on the two of you, and we can begin selling the materials to the other students."
"Hermione," said Fred.
"You're not at all what we expected," said George.
"This may be the start of a partnership most profitable," said Fred.
And so the Twins taught her the charm and its counter. As the Twins wandered off, no doubt to create more mischief, Hermione let herself smile. The naive twits had bought her little fib! And although a business partnership with the Twins would be rather interesting, and although she was quite happy to steer them in a more productive direction, the truth was that she'd wanted to learn their enchantment for a reason quite different. Hermione tapped Magick Most Evile three times with her wand, and whispered, "Aparecium." And the restricted text from the enchanted textbook floated back to the surface of the page.
Hermione leafed through it looking for methods for immortality. The only two methods she'd found in her research so far were drinking the elixir of life from The Philosopher's Stone (and it seemed rather unlikely that Nicholas Flamel would share his) and uniting the Deathly Hallows (an obvious fairytale). Why did she do this? Well…
Because who wouldn't?
Dying seemed rather silly.
XOXOXOX
"And that my dear students, is how I defeated the dastardly ghoul by trapping it in a most delightful tea strainer," said Lockhart, flashing the rows of students an obnoxious smile, like just because he was handsome and famous and his teeth were pretty and perfect they'd all just go along with his stupid story. But of course all the girls did, even Hermione. Especially Hermione… Crushing on Harry was one thing, but for this wanker… It was just, all her smarts seemed to melt when confronted by Lockhart's smoldering good looks and supposed tales of valor. The whole thing made Ron sick to his stomach! Merlin's Beard, they were supposed to be learning some basic spells to use in a dueling club, and instead Lockhart had spent the entire period talking about himself!
"I don't understand," said Ginny. "Why did you even need to defeat a ghoul? They're harmless."
"I see." Lockhart levelled Ginny with a stare. "I've heard about recent events at the school. Ginerva dear, you may have everyone else fooled with your innocent act, but I can see right through you."
He knew? That Ginny was the Heir of Slytherin? Ron had to do something, protect her someho-
"You're jealous. What's an Award for Special Services to Hogwarts compared to winning Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile three times in a row?" Lockhart beamed, and all the girls oohed and ahhed like they'd all lost their bloody minds- even Hermione! Stupid witch! Ron hated her! "But don't worry Ginny. Fame is a slog- it's not all book signings and publicity photos."
Hermione raised her left hand eagerly, as her right hand scribbled down Lockhart's words in neat little lines. Perfect, as always with her.
"Yes, Miss Granger."
"Oh you see Mister- or is it Professor? I do want to be respectful, you seem a rather gallant wizard," said Hermione… Blushing! Why was she blushing? Did she not see what a bloody bint Lockhart was?
"You may call me Gilderoy if I may call you Hermione," said Lockhart, smiling broadly. "If I may be honest, you are one of two reasons an adventurer like me has constrained himself to Hogwarts. For you see, old Albus begged me to look after you Hermione! I couldn't stand to see a witch of your caliber lost to the world, so I had no choice but to put a stopper on my next grand adventure in order to ensure your safety. As for the other reason I came to Hogwarts… Well, it is pretty obvious isn't it? I'd like you to see me as a partner. Confide in me, use my knowledge and experience, and I'm sure we'll have that horrid Heir caught before Christmas!"
"Very well," said Hermione politely, still blushing, and playing around with her hair, and, and… and Ron hated that awful Lockhart with his white teeth and fancy hair- what a bloody wanker! "Mister Gilderoy sir… What can you tell me about horcruxes?"
Horcrux? Horcrux? What was a horcrux, and what did it have to do with the Heir of Slytherin? Even just the word sounded evil.
"That's a rather interesting question Hermione, a horcrux is an enchanted object that is used to trap a ghost! I had to make use of one of them in a daring adventure I had in…"
Ron tuned out after that. He knew bollocks when he heard it. Dueling practice turned out to be a bloody joke.
"What a complete waste of time," said Ron angrily, as he, Harry, and Neville walked back to the Gryffindor Common Room. "That wanker Lockhart spent the entire class talking about himself. And what was his deal, trying to get all friendly with Hermione… It wasn't… It wasn't bloody proper!"
Harry nodded. "I didn't like that either. Snape doesn't even treat Malfoy like that. It sounds like he's practiced everything he says in front of a mirror."
"I dunno about that," said Neville uncomfortably. "I mean, he's just trying to keep her safe. That seems alright to me. And just look at all the great things he's done! Even if he is a little… Err… Proud of himself… He can't be all that bad. Right?"
"All the things he's said he's done," said Ron skeptically. "I bet if he wasn't so good-looking people wouldn't believe all his tales. Did you hear Lavender Brown? 'Professor Lockhart, what kind of conditioner do you use to make your hair look like that?' And he said, 'A man never tells.' I bet he wears makeup like a girl too, what kinda man has hair that nice?"
"Yeah," Harry agreed. "You should've seen Pavarti. She looked like she was gonna wet herself when Lockhart smiled at her."
"I've got no problem with Lavender," said Neville stubbornly. "Or Pavarti. Or Lockhart."
"Gossiping about schoolgirls," said an oily voice from behind them. Snape sneered down at Neville. "No doubt pressured into it by Potter." Snape's lip curled. "You're not the sort to do things yourself, Longbottom. Only what you're told. So stop trembling, I won't take any points from you. Ten points from Gryffindor Potter, and a week's detention."
Harry tightened his fists, then blinked like he'd realized something. "I'm sorry my dad bullied you sir, but I'm really not like-"
"Two weeks detention," Snape hissed, and walked away stiffly.
Ron couldn't bring himself to hate Snape. Not after he'd saved them from the troll, and even before... But still…
Harry stared at his rundown tennis shoes miserably and something in Ron twisted.
"Git," snarled Ron. "We oughtta sic Fred and George on 'im."
"No," Harry murmured. "It's not his fault. I heard it from Dumbledore himself. My dad is the reason Snape went dark. I deserve it."
"Harry," Ron wrapped an arm around his best friend's shoulders. It was all bone, and it kinda hurt, but Ron held on. "What the hell does that have to do with you? Snape's just a git- end of story."
"But-"
"No buts Harry, even Neville thinks Snape's a wanker."
Neville paled for some reason. Oh come on! He wasn't gonna try and make Snape out to be some tragic hero too! Maybe Snape was weird with Harry, maybe you could make the case, but he treated Neville just as horribly and there wasn't any justification for that!
"I'm sure he's got his own…" Neville stopped, and rubbed his ring finger. "No… You're right Ron… The way he treats Harry is… It's out of line, you know?"
"And the way he treats you," said Harry, standing up straight again. "That isn't right either."
"But I… I make so many mistakes. He's just trying to, you know, get me up to… up to standard." Neville refused to meet Harry's gaze.
"No," said Harry firmly. "The way Snape treats you isn't right."
"You're allowed to be angry with people," said Ron. "Especially when they deserve it. Admit it Neville, Snape's a git."
"I… I… I suh-suppose he could be… He could be a little nicer," said Neville. He looked around the hallway, like Snape was hiding in the shadows, about to jump out and curse him. But nothing happened. Neville smiled hesitantly. "And… And maybe I don't like the way he treats me. Like yelling at me is going to make me any better. Maybe if he told me what I was doing wrong, I'd be able to fix it. That's what Professor McGonagall does, and I'm just as rubbish at Transfiguration as I am in Potions, but I don't feel like I'm about to be put under the cruciatus when I go to her class! And you know what, you guys are right about Lockhart. I think he's probably a quack, but still- at least he's better than Snape!"
Ron smiled. "Fair enough." Now that Neville had loosened up a bit, he had the feeling that this was the start of a beautiful friendship. Lucky too, cuz the next morning Neville got a Howler from his Gran, right in the Great Hall. Everyone in the school could hear it.
"Neville Longbottom, I can't believe the things I'm hearing about you! You are a Longbottom. Act like one. You are Frank's son. You are Alice's son. Never forget that. You're to go to Hermione Granger and apologize to her, and beg her to help you pass your classes. Don't think that I can't keep an eye on you just because you're in Hogwarts. I know all about your little feud with the muggleborn, and I also know that you're failing all your classes. If you don't shape up, I'm going to pull you out of school and train you into a half-proper wizard myself."
Several things happened in rapid succession.
The reason why Neville seemed so nervous all the time, why he thought he was worthless, suddenly seemed bloody obvious.
The entire Great Hall burst into laughter.
And Hermione Granger quieted them all down. "Will you all stop it! Laughing at someone for trying to better themselves is rather pathetic. And Neville, it's ever so sweet that your grandmother wishes you to correct your evil behavior! Of course I'll help you... Just so long as you admit that I'm really very clever, and you're really very stupid, and that the little grudge you're holding about your silly toad Trevor is ever so juvenile. It's a toad. A toad. Getting angry over something like that is really very petty, don't you think?"
And Neville Longbottom, well he shook, all pale and sweaty, and trembled as he met Hermione's confident gaze. Stared right at her superior little smirk. He rubbed his hands together nervously. "I… I'm really very… Very…" He glanced at Ron, and straightened. "Very sorry, but I think you're rotten Hermione. And I kinda think you're an idiot. Figuring out Peter was a death eater was really very smart, but not going to a professor with that information was really very stupid. You should've been killed. What kinda arrogant arse thinks they can take on a death eater as a first year? Even Lockhart isn't that daft! And if Gran… If Gran thinks she can push me into being friends with you, then… Then maybe Gran's rotten too!"
And with that, Neville Longbottom stormed out of the Great Hall.
Ron smiled broadly. He'd known it all along. Neville was someone worth admiring.
XOXOXOX
'What kinda arrogant arse thinks they can take on a death eater as a first year?' The Evil Neville Longbottom had asked.
'The kind that can actually manage it,' Hermione really ought to have said. And then she should have showed off her Order of Merlin, which had glinted uselessly on her neck as she'd stood frozen as that horrid boy slung unfair insults at her. Yes, the more she thought about it the more she realized she really ought to have done that. Unfortunately, it hadn't occurred to her until several minutes after Neville's immature tantrum. And after she'd been so civil and forgiving! Of course, everyone had 'oohed' and 'awwed' at Neville's shameful outburst, and it was completely unfair, because if Hermione had just had a few more minutes to think she could have cut him down and showed them all that he was nothing more than an incompetent, evil, conniving, little wanker whose only talent was tearing down his betters!
"Children," said Headmaster Dumbledore, his quiet voice amplified by a charm. "I have an announcement. One of Hogwarts most decorated graduates is returning to Hogwarts! It is my honor to welcome back Rita Skeeter!"
"Thank you Albus," said a sharp-eyed blonde woman, who'd written such horrid things about dearest Ronnie. "I want to address that I have written an honest report on one you in the Prophet. That's done. I've dedicated my career to exposing the evil hidden within the wizarding world. Naturally, I've come to investigate the Heir of Slytherin. If his rampage continues unchecked, the school will be shut down so the aurors in the Ministry of Magic can investigate. If you want to keep learning at Hogwarts I'm your last chance. Cooperate with me, and I'll promise to keep you anonymous. Hide things from me, try to protect the Heir, and I'll expose your small-minded ignorance to the entire world."
Hermione rolled her eyes. So Rita Skeeter was just an idealistic reporter. Unfortunately, such a being did not exist. Rita Skeeter was a poison-penned opportunist who specialized in tearing down people who had actually achieved something in their lives. She was an all grown-up version of Neville Longbottom. Hermione was of course going to get Miss Skeeter thrown into Azkaban so she could earn dear Ron's good graces... of course… But if Innocent Hermione enjoyed it, just a little, why that was just a happy coincidence, right?
That night, Hermione and Ginny went up to the Gryffindor Common Room to tell Ronald the good news, and start their investigation of the horrid Miss Skeeter. Oh, this was going to be ever so much fun!
"Don't bother," said Ron dismissively. "Skeeter didn't write a single thing about me that wasn't true."
"Oh Ronald," said Hermione impatiently. "You needn't try so hard. I know that you're really ever so furious with Miss Skeeter. Afterall, you're still in a tiff with me for telling you a harmless fib, so you shan't forgive Skeeter for her article. It would be logically inconsistent for you to be so forgiving."
"So? Why should I care about your bloody logic?" Asked Ron immaturely. "Why'd you even let her in here, Harry? She still won't say she's sorry!"
"You're being impossible," Hermione huffed, as she felt something scuttle against her neck. A beetle. Gross. Hermione flicked it off. "Can't you see the opportunity I'm offering you? A chance to force Miss Skeeter to write a retraction. Just think of the benefits to your image!"
"I don't care about my bloody image," said Ron, his face starting to grow rather red.
"We both know that that's not true," said Hermione, growing ever so slightly irritated with Ronald's obtuseness. "Why else would you have been jealous of Harry's excellence on a broomstick? Or your brother's successes? You obviously crave popularity and glory, which is of course perfectly natural."
"Get out!" Ron snapped.
"Don't be such a child," Hermione snapped right back. "There's nothing wrong with being conscious of your image. Only a fool or a liar would claim otherwise!"
"Out!" Ron snapped again. "Out! Out I say!"
"Fine," Hermione snapped, getting to her feet. "But when you see sense, you know where to find me. In the library!"
Unfortunately, Ronald didn't visit her in the library. Nor did Harry. Nor even Neville.
Hermione's noble journey to ruin Rita Skeeter would be a solitary one.
Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I don't like this chapter, but it was too important to cut out. It drove me to outline everything else out, so I didn't have another chapter where people just stand around talking. I've edited a few things from earlier chapters as well. And now onto the reviews:
Iwik - Glad you liked it! I'm actually undecided on whether this story ends in tragedy or with a happy ending for Hermione. I do know that if Ron and Hermione faced their ultimate tests now, they'd both fail. And I will say this for Arthur, one of Voldemort's tertiary goals is to kill Ginny and Neville, so he has every right to be worried about her safety. Thanks for the review!
Riing-Di-Glo - Yeah, you're right. I make no apologies though, as I think that Ron is at his best when he's overlooked. Thanks for the review!
Guest - You left a very interesting review. Ron does have his strengths, but he isn't as capable as his brothers or Ginny, at least not in this story. That's not because of how his family treats him, or anything like that, it's just how he was born. His arc won't be about proving that he's better than the rest of his family, or anything like that (Note that chapters 11-13 were Hermione, Harry, and Ron's reaction to Chapter 10. Which of them does Dumbledore ignore? It's not just his family.). And finally, Hermione isn't trying to impress Harry, which allows her natural kindness to show a lot more.
ViviTheFolle - Hahahaha! Well you're spot on about Hermione. I think you'll like where her story is going… I'll just say that I've literally named this portion of the story Failure. As for Ron… Well, he's the character I relate to the most and his ending will be the most genuine, and the most challenging. Thanks for the review!
FGHermione - Thanks for leaving all the reviews! I hate naming characters. Better to just get it out of the way quick I say. I hope you keep reading!
Gja03 - Thanks for the review!