She quickly made herself a cup of oat milk vanilla latte before attending her class and charmed it so it could remain extra hot the whole day.
Once there, she saw Ron leaning over a table, talking to Parkison. She eyed them while passing by and plopped down at her usual seat. He was—smirking as he responded to a thing she had said.
Ron smirking? It was bizarre. Really bizarre. He never smirked. The boy she knew would awkwardly lift the corner of his lips, attempting to form a smile, ending in him looking worried.
"Bit odd, isn't it," she watched Theo take a seat next to her from her peripheral vision.
"Huh?" she faltered, arching an eyebrow at him, "The Weasel and Park," he clarified, tilting his head to their direction.
"Yes, I've seen them together a couple of times. Ron told me they were assigned on prefect patrols together," she answered, pulling out her notes from her satchel.
"Do you believe that?" he mused, extending his arms in a stretch.
"Why not? I don't think Ron would lie to me about that," she answered confidently. Would he, though? Lie to her.
"Seems a bit sus, but even if they were, It doesn't explain why I caught him lurking around the Slytherin common room two nights ago," he revealed, studying how her face shifted from certainty to confusion.
"Really?" she queried, looking over at Ron, who watched the Slytherin like he was about to devour every inch of her, "There must be a logical explanation," she concluded.
"Why? Can't it be that he has fallen for one of the," he paused, "'snakes'?" he inquired, straightening his previously slouched posture.
She didn't have an issue with Ron falling for a Slytherin. Houses didn't mean much, but it was the fact that he is hypothesis had fallen for Parkinson. The same girl that made fun of him for years and talked down on him for his family's limited wealth. The girl he would complain about being a bitch to him since his first year. And now, they fell for each other? How was that even possible? She could never be with someone that talked down or bullied her for years.
Yes, people change, but the memories stay.
Forgiveness can be given, but the crimes and wrongdoings, never forgotten.
What made him sure she wouldn't start talking down on him again? How was he able to block past traumas and relearn with her?
How?
"It could be. But, it doesn't make sense to me after all those years of hating each other," she answered.
"Why not? Don't you thrive with toxicity?" he smirked at her.
"Why would I want toxicity?" she answered, "It's nothing but pure frustration between two parties," she retorted, shifting her body to face him directly.
"And extreme pleasure when you're not frustrated," he added, with a sarcastic tone.
"How can I be pleasured If I am constantly faced with negative behavior and feel upset with someone?" she queried expectantly. It felt like she was asking it to herself rather than him.
He sighed, placing his fingers on the bridge of his nose, "It's simple math, Goldy," he started, placing his left hand forward. "Heightened tension equals more pleasure. Therefore hate equals arousal, and when it feels forbidden, the better."
"Hm–," she analyzed his forward logic, "But," she paused, placing the weight of her face on her palm, "If there is tension and frustration, to begin with, then why should I stick around and let myself be dragged by this constant, vicious cycle?"
"How is it vicious if you get pleasure and arousal in return?" he countered, "We're looking at the full picture here. We're looking at it as two plus two equals four, not four minus two equals two. Hence, every good or worthwhile thing is accompanied with something bad or unpleasant in return."
"Didn't take you as the philosopher type," she mocked, "I understand where you're coming from, but I just don't get it. I'd rather start good and end good, with a couple of bad things in between." She'd rather do that, but it wasn't realistic. She started the war in shape and ended up broken.
"How do you know that something isn't going to be good just because it came upon a rocky start?" he retorted, "This is starting to become like one of those nighttime deep talk conversations. Guess we'll have it in reverse at eight in the morning," he joked.
"Fair," she whispered with a quick smile as she watched professor Sprout enter the classroom.
Rocky start.
She considered where he was coming from. She tried to incorporate her logic into her own life experiences.
It could be said that once she stepped into the gates of the wizarding world, she wasn't at zero. It was worse. She started with less than zero. Muggleborns had no worth in the wizarding world, so she had to work twice as hard to get to zero, but once there, the only thing that made her worthy was her war efforts. It was the golden ladder to step out of zero and rise to positive numbers, but now she had fallen back to zero.
So yes, she did have a rocky start, but even through all that effort, she lost the self-identity she had worked so hard to create. So even though Ron's supposed linkage to Parkinson unleashed with a past history of hate, how is it beneficial to him if there's a possibility of ending back at square one?
Sprout divided the class into four groups of six to brew an antidote for Alihosty, a magical tree that causes hysterical laughter when eaten. Once the leaves are ingested, an antidote has to be taken very quickly before severe damage occurs. Hermione was placed with Theo, Ron, Pansy, and Neville.
This is going to be interesting, she thought to herself.
"Speaking of the devils," Theo whispered in her ear as they neared their table.
"Hey, Mione," greeted Ron, making space so she could place her belongings. Pansy didn't acknowledge her presence and continued chewing her gum obnoxiously loud.
"Weasel. Pansy," Theo saluted.
"Nott," Ron greeted back, inching his head slightly forward in a quick movement.
"Hermione!" Neville exclaimed, approaching her, "I'm so sorry for not being able to give your gift yesterday. I had to go fill out some paperwork at the ministry. Here you go," he said, pulling a small plant from his satchel and handing it to her.
"It's totally fine, Nev!" she assured him, "Thank you so much," she reached her hand out to accept his gift, "What is it?"
"It's a plant that changes color depending on your mood. On the side of the pot, you see an attached manual that will tell you what emotions belong to what color," he explained, placing his satchel on the ground, next to the leg of the table.
She turned the pot to look at the manual and realized the plant had turned yellow. "See, it means you're happy now," he pointed out, eyes flashing with joy at his friend being pleased by the gift.
"I love it!" she said, placing the pot on the table, "I'll place it on my nightstand. It was desperate for decorations anyway," she tittered.
"I'm glad you–"
Neville was cut off by a frustrated Parkinson, "How sweet," she said in the most insincere way, "Can we start with the project now? Or is that too much to ask?" she complained, taking another piece of gum and flicking it into her mouth.
"What's dark purple?" Theo asked, pointing at the plant.
"Oh, that's. Uhh–Well, most of the time, it's when someone feels strongly about unaliving their adversary, or it can project a deep level of frustration if it were lighter purple, though–" Neville was cut off again.
"Oh, so you wanna kill me, Granger?" the witch mocked, placing her hands firmly on the table.
"I might," Hermione responded, turning towards Neville, "Does it detect others' emotions as well, or did you charm it in a way that would only detect mine?" she inquired, "Because if that's the case," she turned towards Pansy again, "Maybe you are the one who wants to kill me."
"Or it could be Ron, Theo or Neville," she clapped back, glancing at the boys who were silent, "Ron?" she looked at him expectantly.
"When did you guys start addressing each other on a first-name basis?" Theo chimed in, trying to alter the conversation topic, knowing it was seconds away from disaster.
"We didn't," Pansy blurted defensively.
"We didn't?" Ron questioned her, arching his brows.
"No–We did, but–" she tried to explain but was interrupted by an enthusiastic Theo, "Oh, look. Orange? What's that plantboy?"
"That color occurs when someone is either intrigued or cur–"
"But what?" Ron talked over Neville's voice.
"But–It's just that—Ugh!" Pansy stumbled her words, "You stupid bitch!" she cursed at Hermione, who jabbed her tongue on the inside of her cheek and scoffed, "What did you just–"
"What's red?!" Theo exclaimed, nearly screaming, which caught the attention of the rest of the class.
"Well. It could mean anger or lust–"
"Lust?!" Both witches barked at Neville, who shifted his glare back and forth from both girls, too stunned to formulate words.
"What is going on here?" Sprout questioned, nearing them, with her hands firmly on her hips, "If there is a problem, then I advise you to settle your disagreements outside the classroom. Your behavior is very disruptive to the classroom."
"Granger's the problem," Pansy said, sneering at her. Hermione looked at her irritatedly and clenched her fists until she could feel her nails sinking into the skin.
Stay calm.
"I do not care to know about your feud Miss. Parkinson. If you continue with this attitude, then I suggest you leave my classroom," Sprout said in a sharp, impatient voice.
Pansy looked over at the plant that had turned back into a deep shade of purple, "Fucking hell," she muttered, pushing her chair slowly that its legs screeched on the ground, creating an irritating sound, and excused herself. Ron got up to follow her.
"Now that that's settled. Everyone to work," the professor reacted and resumed aiding one of the groups.
Neville leaned towards Hermione and whispered, "It only detects yours." She looked at him but refrained from responding.
"Deep talk check, theatrical performance check, and it's only eight fifteen. What a productive morning!" Theo cheered, earning an eye roll from Hermione, "So what's the answer? Does it only respond to her?" he asked Neville, and he nodded in approval. Theo started chuckling by himself, and she gave him a quick smack on the shoulder, which only increased it. Neville, who hadn't found the situation funny, joined him in a chorus of laughter.
"Guys, stop it! It's not funny!" the witch blurted frustratedly.
"Oh, but it is," the Slytherin retorted.
"I disagree," she said, shrinking the plant with a tap of her wand and placing it neatly in her satchel, "Plus, we need to focus. We didn't even start brewing yet!" she cried.
"Okay, Goldy. We'll stop. Isn't that right, plantboy?"
"Right," Neville affirmed, looking at Hermione.
"What does this plant do again?" Theo inquired, "I didn't listen."
"It causes you to laugh hysterically when you consume it," Neville explained.
Theo, who looked like a sudden lightbulb flashed in his head, slammed both hands firmly on the table, "Does it work if you maybe add it into a liquid?" edging his body further into the table.
"Yes," Neville confirmed, "Although it might not be as effective and last as long compared to when consumed."
"Thank god!" the Slytherin exclaimed, "I've just got the best idea, Goldy and I want you to be there with me."
"What is it?" she questioned, her eyebrows arched sharply upwards.
"Well," he started, speaking in a low voice, "Draco religiously drinks peppermint tea after dinner, so I think it'll be funny if I add the leaf to his tea, and we can just watch him. The man needs to diffuse the tension sometimes, after all."
"I don't know," she said, "Where would you even do it?"
"In the Great Hall, of course. I always used to pull pranks on him but haven't got the chance to do any this year."
"You're like the equivalent of Fred and George," she laughed faintly.
"Me? Like a Weasel? I take that as an insult," he crossed his arms, shifting his face to the side.
"Okay. Okay. You're nothing like them," she assured, making him face her again, "Wouldn't he throw a temper tantrum if he found out, though?" she asked, imagining him yelling at them in the Great Hall but failing miserably to assert his rage properly due to random outbursts of laughter in between. Would be pretty funny to watch, actually.
"How would he find out?" he countered, raising the side of his lip in a smirk, "Unless you tell him, of course," he addressed Neville.
"I won't say anything," he shot up his hands to his chest defensively, "I will be watching, though, from the Gryffindor table."
"That's alright. You can watch, of course," Theo assured, "How long does it take for this leaf to work?"
"Usually about five minutes," Neville responded, glancing over at some students bickering in the background.
"Okay, that's fine. Not too bad. Can you promise not to get into a fight with him for five minutes?" he asked with pleading eyes.
"Me?" Hermione took that to heart, "I–I don't start them. He's just constantly being an arse, and I refuse to tolerate it," she said with a firm tone.
"Then could you please tolerate it until the effects of the plant kick in? Please, for my sake. I'm just asking for five minutes here."
She watched him for a bit and considered the positives. What would she get by accepting? Experiencing Malfoy laughing for the first time in his life. But why would that matter? She couldn't care less if he laughed or not.
If she did it, it would only be for Theo's sake. He was a great friend to her after all, "Fine," she answered, defeated. "How is it going to work, though? Am I just going to randomly sit at the Slytherin table after not doing so in nearly a decade?"
"Yes. Inter-house unity, remember?" she nodded, "What we'll do is that I'll sit in a spot that faces the Great Hall entrance, and when I see you, I'll just wave for you to join us," he explained.
"What if Malfoy decides to leave when I come?" she inquired, leveling her hand to her forehead to scratch it.
"Don't you trust in any of my abilities, woman!" He taunted her, earning him a chortle from Neville.
"Okay. Fine. You win."
"Ha! Knew I would convince you," he crowed, "Tonight then? At around half seven?"
"Sure," she nodded in agreement.
…
Hermione paced around the room, walking in circles from her bookshelf to her bed. She somehow got the motivation to immerse into reading one of her books, but even though her fingers itched to pick a book, she would refrain from doing so. It was so stupid. She had read over three thousand books in her life but couldn't seem to make herself do it. Yes, she read books for her coursework, but never for herself.
Reading was her form of therapy and escapade from her life, but she hadn't read for pure enjoyment for so long that she was scared that her once way of coping was not relevant anymore. That connecting to what her old self did once to relax would somehow shatter the barricade she had constructed and maintained for so long, and all the undealt emotions would come to haunt her back.
She wasn't necessarily proud of how she coped with everything, but at least she felt somewhat in control. She was able to function and execute what she needed to do.
She would read for herself one day, but today wasn't it.
She took a long shower instead, and once she got out, Ginny was lying on her bed in her quidditch attire. She balanced the Nutella jar on her stomach with one hand and with the other, took spoonfuls, and licked her spoon joyfully. From the looks of it, she had already consumed more than half of the jar.
"You want the rest of my jars don't you," Hermione approached her, staring down at her visage. Tears slid from the corners of her eyes, down her cheeks, and along her lips before falling, "Ginny," she blurted worriedly, "Ginny, what's wrong? What happened"
The ginger witch smeared her tears away with the back of her hand, "I don't know–" she forced the words out, and more tears filled her eyes.
Hermione knelt down to her friend, lying down next to her, "It's okay, take your time," she positioned herself on her side so that her body faced hers.
Ginny took another spoonful of Nutella and sucked on her spoon slowly, trying to force back her tears, "It's–" she took a deep breath, "I don't know," the witch gave up and placed the spoon in her mouth again.
"It's okay. You don't have to say anything," Hermione assured as she played with a lock of her hair, trying to comfort her in the best way she could. Ginny nodded, watching the ceiling, trying to muster up the words to express herself.
Hermione unclasped the necklace she had given her and placed it on Ginny's neck, "Maybe this will help you," she suggested, and Ginny handed her the spoon so she could tap on the guiding star.
She watched her friend as she looked around the room with a hint of a smile on her lips and closed her eyes, "It's–just that–I don't know, Mione–Things aren't the same anymore. I feel like–I'm trying to hold onto something that's already out of my grasp," she explained, "I did feel the changes back in August, but I thought that things could be okay–That maybe things needed time–but I'm not so," another tear prickled in the corner of her eyes, "Sure that things will ever be the same."
Hermione didn't have to ask what she was talking about. It was very evident.
Harry.
"Ever since I was ten, I was infatuated with him, and at first, I never thought I had a chance. But, last year, I finally felt like I had finally reached my long-lost desire, and now it's just not there anymore," she smeared another spoonful of Nutella from the jar and licked it slowly, letting her taste buds sense all the stages of cocoa flavor, "He doesn't look at me anymore. I feel invisible to him. He looks at me like I'm his best friend's little sister again. Fuck, that sounds so pathetic."
"No, No. It's not pathetic, Gin," Hermione said, "It's not your fault."
"How is it not my fault? I clearly did something to provoke his attitude change," she countered, aggressively taking another spoon of the chocolate spread and swallowing it in one go, "It's my fault."
"Ginny," she spoke softly, "Did you talk to him about it?"
"No. I feel like if I do, we're going to part ways, and I don't know if I'm ready for that yet," she answered truthfully, placing the jar to her side and the spoon inside.
"Hm–It's your choice, of course, but I feel like the longer you drag your relationship to something it's not anymore, the more pain you will feel," Hermione tried. She didn't want to see both of her closest friends upset like this. Anyone with a remotely functioning brain could see that their spark had gone.
"I don't know–" Ginny got up from the bed and started pacing back and forth, "I still want it to work between us. Maybe it's a phase. Maybe things would go back to how it was if I show him how much he means to me," she said, with a new hope arising in her, "Even when I knew that there was zero chance that he would ever like me back, I still tried and never gave up. I believed we would end up together somehow, and we did."
"Yeah, I get your point, but things can change," Hermione said. She felt like a terrible friend for keeping what Harry had told her, but she wasn't about to rat him out. Harry's trust meant everything to her, and even if she loved Ginny more than herself, she couldn't betray him like that. It was wrong and not her place to do so. But, it killed her seeing Ginny, all hopeful and delusional about the situation. Harry's words were certain, and it did not seem like he would change his mind. At least not anytime soon. There might be hope, but Harry didn't give any to her.
She knew he wasn't happy, but seeing Ginny in this state, left her with twisted emotions. It was like one big carnival of emotions.
"Yes," the ginger went over to her closet, hoping to find a cute outfit, "I'm going to remind him why he chose me out of all people in the first place," she said, grabbing a red bodycon mini dress. She quickly charmed her hair and set it in a high ponytail.
"I don't know if this is a good idea, Gin," Hermione tried to talk her out of it, but Ginny was dead set on it, "I do," she countered, taking a last look at herself and pushing out her boobs from the sides.
"Ginny!" she called out, but it was too late. The witch was out the door. Hermione quickly grabbed a Nutella jar out of her stash and placed it on her bed, just in case things went south.
Two hours went by, and Ginny hadn't arrived yet. She took that as a good sign and made her way to dinner. She grabbed a Nutella jar from her limited stash since she had forgotten to give Theo his yet, and it would be a good opportunity to do so. She would at least have an excuse as to why she had sat at the Slytherin out of the blue for the first time in nearly a decade.
Once there, her eyes lingered over the Slytherin table, and she awkwardly stood at the threshold of the entrance, waiting for Theo to acknowledge her presence. She could already sense a bunch of eyes boring holes at her, but she ignored them. Finally, Theo tilted his head her way and rose up, gesturing for her to come.
"What are you doing?" Draco asked, turning his head to see who he was addressing, which gave Theo the perfect opportunity to quickly slip the powder version of the leaf into his drink.
"Gesturing for Granger to join us," he answered, sitting back in his chair.
"I can see that, but why?" he whispered as she nearly approached them.
Theo put his hand over his mouth and mumbled, "Why not" watching Hermione walk over to their table, "Hey Goldy," he said.
"Hey," she greeted back with a quick smile, taking a seat next to him. She placed the jar on the table and glanced at Malfoy. His icy eyes widened a fracture, and scanned her features quickly before looking away.
"Wait, you brought me Nut–ella?!" he exclaimed, taking the jar and twisting it to look at the back. His brows arched upwards as he tried to understand the contents of the nutrition label, "What's calories?"
Hermione chuckled abruptly, turning the jar back, so he could face the front again, "Not something you want to know if you want to enjoy it guilt-free," she answered, directing her gaze back to Malfoy. He added a spoonful of sugar into his teacup and bore his eyes on her as he stirred his tea.
"Guilt-free? Am I going to die?" he queried, opening the lid and tearing off the gold protective paper.
"Does the answer to that really matter?" she asked, watching as he vanished the gold paper with a flick of his wand and grabbed a spoon to his left to dig in.
"No," he answered, opening his mouth wide, and sucking off the chocolate spread. She watched him as he went through all the phases of the beginner Nutella experience. Sweet. Warm. Chocolaty. Salivating. Pleasure. Swallow.
She observed his Adam's apple bob as the spread flowed down his throat, and his eyes shot up in delight. He looked at her, arching his brow, then took an additional spoonful and went through the same trajectory of emotions again. He made the five minutes of the Malfoy toleration mission pretty easy for her.
Two minutes had already gone by since she had sat down.
Three more minutes.
This distraction emitted sun rays to shine on what seemed like an impossible mission beforehand.
She got distracted by a loud slurping sound coming from Malfoy. She turned her attention back to him to see that his eyes were on hers again. His grey eyes were like knives, ready to shoot daggers at her. She felt threatened but not scared by them.
"Draco, you need to try this!" Theo exclaimed, shoving the jar in his direction, "It's so fucking good!"
He tilted his head slightly to look at the jar, "I'll pass," he rejected in a sharp tone. The quiet clip of his cup against the saucer echoed when he placed his teacup. Hermione squinted her eyes to see that he had drunk most of his tea.
"Come on , mate. Just a spoon," Theo insisted, grabbing Draco's untouched spoon and offering it to him with pleading eyes.
Malfoy huffed sharply, "How will I know that it hasn't been tampered with," he gave her a quick glance.
"Are you claiming that I poisoned it, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, trying her best to speak in a diplomatic manner.
Two more minutes.
She could survive. Could she? Yes, she could.
He shut down her accusation. "Just a thought," the blond leveled his arms up to fix his cufflinks.
"If it's just a thought, then why don't you taste it?" she countered, forcing the most insincere smile she could.
"I am not quite fond of sugary things, Granger," he explained, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Says the guy that takes his tea with a full spoon of sugar," she retorted, mirroring his body language and crossing her arms over her chest as well.
"Stalking me now, Granger?" he teased, jabbing his tongue on the inside of his cheek.
"It was just a mere observation," she said matter-of-factly.
A minute and a half.
"If you say so," he mocked her and proceeded to grab the teaspoon Theo offered him and barely scooped a tiny fragment of the chocolate spread. He brought it up to his nose and sniffed it for an aggravatingly long time. Then, he slightly opened his mouth and watched her as he sucked on the spread.
One minute.
"So, do you like it?" Theo asked, digging his own spoon to taste it again.
Malfoy placed his spoon neatly on the table, "I've had better."
"It's not about comparing. It's just a simple question. Do you like it or not?" Hermione questioned, conscious now of the precise shade of his eyes as he stared at her, waiting for a response.
"Since when do you care about my opinion so much?" his lips slanted in a mischievous smirk.
Forty seconds.
"I don't," she said flatly. So cocky for what? Hermione rolled her eyes in annoyance.
"Come on, Draco, I know you liked it. You practically made love to the poor, innocent, untouched spoon," Theo chimed in.
Thirty seconds.
"No. I–" Malfoy's hand shot up to cover his mouth, but he miserably failed since the laughter had finally begun.
Theo's lips curled up in a smile, and he extended his arm under the table in Hermione's direction, palm facing up. She discreetly gave his hand a clap and watched as Malfoy went through a vicious circle of emotions. From laughing to trying to refrain himself from laughing again, and so on.
"You good, mate?" Theo asked, watching his best friend struggle painfully.
"I-" he resumed gargling in euphoric laughter.
"I'm quite the comedian, aren't I?" Theo mused, earning a smack from Hermione, who shook her head at him, "Definitely, Theo. Anything you say results in people laughing like a band of hyenas," she joked in a sarcastic tone.
Draco coughed into his fist and shook his finger at Theo, trying to disagree with his statement, "You're not a–" and he was gone again. He laughed so much that it started catching the attention of their surroundings.
Hermione decided to have fun with this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and decided to make one of the horrific dad jokes her dad would always attempt.
"Malfoy," she raised her voice to get his attention, "What sound does a wizard's car make?"
The blond, whose eyes were teary from laughter, asked, dumbfounded, "What?"
"Broom. Broom," she answered, and he started laughing hysterically. She wasn't even sure if he knew what a car was.
"I'm going to go throw myself off a bridge now if you don't mind," he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "Gods Granger! That's pathetic."
"Someone seems to enjoy it," she smirked, and he rolled his eyes.
"No. I didn't enjoy–" he cut himself off, "Fuck–" he laughed more than a century's worth, "What the fuck–"
"Do you want to hear another joke?" she inquired, far too pleased with his struggle.
"No–" tears of joy were dripping onto his cheeks as he swiped furiously at his eyes. His eyes were dark, filled with pure rage, but his face told a complete different story.
"Okay, I've got a better one. It's more of a dark one, though," she cautioned, and Theo nodded for her to proceed, "Why did Snape stand in the middle of the road?"
Theo stared at her, brows furrowed, "Wait? Let me think," he paused, lifting his hand to cup his jaw, and his eyes fixated on the ceiling whilst Malfoy was going through another outburst of laughter, "I don't know. Because he wanted to?"
"Really, Theo? That's your best answer?" she mocked, straightening her back, "So you'd never know which side he was on," she finished the joke, and Theo stared at her with a blank expression.
"Huh?" he asked, "Oh! Oh! No– That's–Wow–Damn," he startled, chuckling in disbelief.
She watched as Malfoy tried to understand the joke through a chorus of laughter.
"Look at him still laughing, guess I'm the better comedian," she grinned at Theo.
"Dark comedian," he corrected, trying to read Malfoy's face to understand whether he got the joke or not.
"I have to–Fuck–" Malfoy tried to cover his laughter as he stood up and walked out of the Great Hall with rapid steps.
"That was fun," Theo turned to her, looking pretty satisfied with his prank.