Happy Friday all! I decided to stop angsting over this chapter and just post it so I can move on to more interesting parts of the story.
By the way, if you are also a closet (or out and proud) fan of Harry Potter f/f ships, you should consider joining this discord I'm in. It's full of other authors and readers and we talk shit and post dumb memes. It's for 18+ and you can find it through this link! (delete the spaces between the letters, I have to do that so FFN doesn't delete the link)
discord. g g / d 4wgtA5jrA
Saturday was a tense day.
All anyone could talk about was the Skeeter article exposing the second task.
Hermione hated that she'd had to hand that smug cow Skeeter such a lucrative scoop, but looking across the table at Harry, she felt it was worth it. He already had a little more colour to his face, hopeful that the task would be postponed at the least.
It was dinnertime and everyone was expecting an announcement about the tournament. The Weasley twins were stirring up trouble along the Gryffindor table, trying to take bets on what the outcome would be for the tournament.
The sky above the students was dark and stormy, seeming to reflect the roiling uncertainty beneath it.
The food was yet to appear on the tables and Ron was getting restless, poking around at the centrepiece on the table.
"Ron, please," Hermione groaned, slapping Ron's hand. Ginny, sitting on the other side of Hermione, smirked.
Dumbledore cleared his throat, standing at the head table. The students quickly fell silent.
"Students," Dumbledore announced in his grand tone, "— and staff. Mr Bagman from the Ministry would like to make an announcement regarding the Triwizard Tournament's second task. I implore you to listen carefully and respect his decision."
Hermione swallowed, her stomach in knots.
Dumbledore sat down and Ludo Bagman stood, bowing theatrically.
"Greetings all," Bagman began, "As many of you will have seen, the second task has been published in today's Daily Prophet. Never in the history of the triwizard tournament has a task been postponed or cancelled…"
Harry paled across the table from Hermione.
"…However, the detailed nature of the 'tips' and 'advice' in the article, as well as the fact that solving the puzzle was a crucial part of the task, means we have had to re-evaluate. The magic covenant of the tournament means all participants are bound to compete so long as they are alive. It also means that there must be three tasks held…"
Hermione glanced across to the Ravenclaw table. Fleur was leaning forward in her seat, listening intently.
"…After numerous discussions, we have decided that the second task will be postponed, to be replaced with an entirely new task, in the new year."
Hermione could practically see the relief wash over Fleur as Bagman announced it.
"Part of our decision was based on the fact that we will now be sourcing a new judge as Mr Crouch appears to have gone AWOL on us. But never fear!" Bagman gave a boyish grin, "To make up for all the fuss, we are planning a Yule Ball for the festive season! Held on Christmas Eve, all Champions will be in attendance with partners. We will all be treated to an evening of fine food and dancing. Details will be distributed in the morning."
Bagman raised his hands as students applauded. After basking in the attention for an appropriate amount of time, Bagman nodded politely at Dumbledore and took a seat.
Dumbledore stood slowly again, clearing his throat and stretching out his arms.
"Let's eat."
Ron was practically a blur as the food finally appeared.
"So, that was good news," Ginny commented, trying to duck one of Ron's aggressive hands reaching for the chicken leg in her hand.
"Really good news," Harry agreed, his green eyes moving to settle on Hermione across the table, "You didn't have anything to do with this, did you 'Mione?"
"Hermione?" Ron said incredulously through a mouthful of potatoes, "She doesn't even like to return library books late because it's against the rules. I doubt she leaked an entire bloody task to Rita Skeeter."
Hermione squirmed guiltily in her seat at that. She felt like she was being very cavalier with rules this year— and often not even due to the influence of Harry or Ron.
She distracted herself with biting into some food and chewing vigorously. She let the others lead the conversation instead.
Ron and Ginny enthusiastically speculated on what the new task could be. Harry bemoaned the implication that Champions may have to get a partner to attend the Yule Ball with them.
Hermione found her mind drifting as she ate, her gaze wandering back to the Ravenclaw table.
Somehow, Fleur managed to look beautiful and elegant, even as she picked disappointedly at the heavy food on offer. Hermione was glad that she already looked more relaxed, smiling every so often as Julie said something to her.
Hermione's smile faded a little as she remembered the hurt and suspicion in her interactions with Fleur lately. She wasn't sure the blonde would ever trust her again.
If Hermione were honest with herself, she wasn't sure if she could blame Fleur for that.
How can you ever come back from running a secret research project on someone?
Hermione sighed, looking down and stabbing a potato aggressively. She wasn't sure what had got into her this year. The old Hermione Granger would have carefully toed the line— never so much as breaking a rule or hiding a thing from anyone.
Now it just felt like her life was a mess of sneaking around and hiding things from people.
Hermione cleared her throat.
"I was the one that leaked the task to Skeeter," Hermione said, just loud enough for Harry and Ron to hear.
"What?!" Harry's eyebrows shot up, "Why?!"
"Seriously?!" Hermione scoffed, "There's foul-play in this tournament, with your name being entered and the strange things around the tasks. Plus, the second task could have seriously injured the champions! You hadn't worked out a way to breathe underwater, Fleur would have struggled—"
"Oh of course it comes back to Fleur bloody Delacour!" Harry retorted.
"Mate," Ron warned, cocking his head towards Hermione meaningfully.
But Harry looked like he was ready to finally snap, the weeks of poor sleep and anxiety finally coming to a head.
"No— don't stop me," Harry snapped at Ron before turning his attention back to Hermione, "You've barely helped me this whole competition! Instead you've been mooning over some pretty girl who barely gives you the time of day! I thought you were my mate!"
"I've bent over backwards to help you, Harry," Hermione said, struggling to keep her voice even.
Harry scoffed.
"You've bent over for Fleur more like!" Harry shot back, "I could've had this! I could have won this! Now the second task is a total mystery again and I'm back to bloody square one! Not to mention you could get expelled for this! Who are you?! In what world would Hermione Granger break rules like this?! You're changing yourself for a girl!"
"Harry! You didn't know how to breathe underwater! You threw up when they announced the task was coming up!" Hermione insisted, exasperated, "I did this to help you!"
"I would have figured it out!" Harry said stoutly, "I always do."
"Yeah, you always do?" Hermione replied, raising her eyebrows, "You always come through by yourself do you? Ron and I have nothing to do with you surviving each year?!"
"You have no idea what I have to deal with!" Harry said, raising his voice.
"You have no idea what you expect of your friends!" Hermione shot back heatedly, getting to her feet, "It's absolutely exhausting being the friend of Harry Potter! Until you learn some basic gratitude, I don't want to talk to you."
Hermione stepped out of the table, ignoring the curious stares of those further down the Gryffindor table.
She was deep in thought, Harry's words ringing cruelly in her ears as she slunk off into the dim hallways of the castle. She wasn't even sure where she was going.
It was true, she hadn't even considered the consequences of leaking the second task to Rita Skeeter, and if anyone were to find out, she would almost certainly be in trouble. It wasn't like her to be so reckless. But then, it wasn't like her to do a lot of the things she had done so far at Hogwarts…
"Hermione?"
Hermione hadn't realised she'd been crying until she heard that French voice lilting her name. She wiped her face hurriedly, turning to face Fleur Delacour. Even in the dark and stony hallway, the part Veela practically glowed as she smiled at Hermione. Her smile dropped a little.
"Why are you crying?" Fleur asked, cocking her head to one side. Her silvery blonde hair spilled like a waterfall down her shoulder at the movement.
"I…" Hermione couldn't get the words out, awkwardly kicking at the ground and avoiding Fleur's gaze.
"What you did was incredibly reckless," Fleur said matter-of-factly.
Hermione cringed, waiting for the inevitable tirade like Harry's.
"But incredibly brave," Fleur continued, "Thank you so much. I really hope Gabrielle will not be involved in the new task."
Hermione's shoulders slumped.
"You're not mad?" Hermione asked, her voice low.
"Mad?" Fleur repeated, stepping forward, "You believed me, Hermione. You believed me, despite being a person that inherently needs facts and reason. You believed me."
"I feel like I don't know myself anymore," Hermione confessed breathlessly, turning her back to the blonde, "I'm acting impulsively, doing reckless things that go against rules, I'm challenging Harry instead of just helping him…"
"You're only human," Fleur said gently, placing a hand on Hermione's shoulder.
Hermione felt the familiar buzz of electric energy from Fleur's touch.
"What if this was a huge mistake?" Hermione asked, half to Fleur, half to the dark emptiness of the hallway, "What if the new second task is even worse than the original one? What if Skeeter reveals her source and I get expelled?"
"You worry too much," Fleur said, tightening her grip on Hermione's shoulder and turning the brunette back around to face her.
"Some would say I haven't been worrying enough," Hermione replied, avoiding Fleur's gaze. She felt dreadful. This year had got more and more away from her, spinning out of control.
"You're carrying the weight of everyone else's worries as well as your own," Fleur said softly, reaching out her other hand to try and lift Hermione's chin. Hermione finally stopped avoiding Fleur's gaze, letting her eyes connect with azure.
"I have to make up for all the times I've let everyone down," Hermione said, barely above a whisper.
It was a sentiment that had sat with Hermione long since childhood, but had grown bigger as her friendship with Harry and Ron had grown. The number of times they, and those around them, had barely skirted death by the skin of their teeth because Hermione didn't work something out quick enough— or because she wasn't there (Petrified in the hospital wing or otherwise)— made her almost drown in guilt.
Once as a child, she had been reading upstairs instead of helping her mother with the laundry as she had promised. By the time she had finally gone downstairs, she'd found her mother passed out on the floor. Her mother was in a diabetic coma— and thankfully survived. But Hermione hated feeling like she hadn't done enough to keep those around her safe. That she had let them down. That she hadn't done everything in her power to know everything that could possibly happen.
"Do you always feel like that?" Fleur asked.
Hermione shook her head, not wanting to talk about it anymore.
"Why don't you take me for a walk around the castle?" Fleur suggested, "We don't have to talk if you don't want to."
Of course, Hermione ended up talking quite a bit. Fleur was relieved to see Hermione open up as she led the way around the draughty castle.
She told Fleur about the encounter with the Dark Lord in her very first year, a basilisk and a troll loose in the castle in varying years, being Petrified in the Hospital Wing as her best friends almost died. Fleur listened quietly as Hermione explained about taking on double the course load of a normal student in her previous year, using a time turner to attend all classes. About the stress she felt needing to keep up with all the classes to justify the rare exemption they had given her for the time turner. About Sirius Black and a werewolf. About trying to prove Sirius Black's innocence but ultimately failing. The guilt she felt every time she fell short.
Fleur was utterly blown away.
It had always felt like Hermione had been holding things back, but whatever had snapped within the brunette, she was now letting it all out. Fleur had heard rumours of some of the exploits of Harry Potter and his friends, of course. But she had never known the full extent. It was a wonder the three of them were alive to this day.
"I mean… I guess I'm just tired," Hermione was saying now. They were walking along a dark hallway with few torches lighting it and several old suits of armour. Fleur could see a spiral staircase at the end of the hallway.
"That sounds entirely understandable," Fleur replied, "You seem to have faced more than even most Aurors do in their lifetime."
"I'm sorry, I've been complaining a lot," Hermione said quickly, suddenly becoming self conscious, "It's not that I'm blaming Harry. It just takes a lot to be his friend sometimes."
"Non, it is fine," Fleur replied, watching as Hermione adorably rubbed the back of her neck, "I do not think you have been complaining too much. If anything, things make more sense to me now."
"How so?" Hermione paused as they reached the spiral staircase at the end of the hallway.
"You just always seem so… burdened," Fleur said, struggling to put it into words, "From the moment I met you, you've seemed like the weight of the world is on you. Pulled in multiple directions at once. It is no wonder you snapped at Harry. It is no wonder you feel like you are not yourself. Nobody should deal with this level of stress on their own."
Hermione turned from her, beginning to walk up the spiral staircase. Fleur followed, curious as to what the brunette prodigy would say.
"I have Harry and Ron," Hermione replied shortly.
"Who have their own burdens to deal with by the sounds," Fleur countered.
"It isn't like I don't bring stress onto myself," Hermione said back, "I was the one that stupidly conducted research on you. I stupidly put myself at risk by talking to Skeeter. I chose to follow Harry into each one of his catastrophes and chose to make every decision I did in those situations."
Fleur could hear the harshness in Hermione's voice. She was really beating herself up.
"You're being so hard on yourself," Fleur replied firmly, "You can't always live up to your own (and others') expectations of being the calm and rational one in each and every situation. Every now and again you have a right to get rundown, make a mistake or take the impulsive action."
"That's more Harry's area of expertise," Hermione mumbled, though Fleur did notice Hermione's shoulders had relaxed a little as she walked behind her.
They reached the top of the staircase, where there was a thick wooden hatch. Hermione pushed it open, disappearing up the final part of the staircase. Fleur followed her, stepping up into an open tower. The roof of the tower was enchanted to show the sky above, stormy and passionate.
Fleur quickly cast a warming charm over herself and Hermione.
"What is this place?" Fleur asked curiously.
"The Astronomy Tower," Hermione replied, looking up at the sky, "It's much nicer when the night is clear."
Hermione was looking out at the dark night, a stricken look on her face. The wind was whipping her voluminous hair wildly.
"Are you okay?" Fleur asked, coming to stand beside her. They stood so closely the backs of their hands were brushing.
"I understand why you can't trust me," Hermione said, still staring out at the night, "I wish I could take back the things I did, but I can't."
Fleur sighed heavily. Something about the brunette drew her in. She usually wouldn't engage in these sorts of deep and meaningful conversations with anyone, except maybe Julie. Even then she would never share much about herself. But with Hermione… Fleur felt compelled to share.
"I know what it's like to live with heavy expectations on yourself," Fleur confessed. Though it felt like the wind swept most of her words away, Hermione turned to look at her intently, evidently hearing what she said.
"What do you mean?" Hermione asked. Her intelligent, warm brown eyes fixed themselves on Fleur, encouraging her on.
"My mother has very high standards," Fleur explained, "The Delacours stem from nobility, you see. My mother has always wanted to uphold the family name."
"And your father?" Hermione asked cautiously. Fleur frowned.
"He was a human caught in a thrall," Fleur said bitterly, "He was gone before I was born."
"Have you ever met him?" Hermione replied, empathy in her voice. Fleur laughed hollowly.
"He came back, once," Fleur said, shaking her head, "I was about nine or ten at the time. He had seen my mother in a market and sought her out. He came to the Delacour mansion insisting he had made a terrible mistake and begging forgiveness."
"And?" Hermione seemed to be hanging on Fleur's words.
"And he was charming," Fleur said, exhaling heavily, "He was loving, passionate, full of life. He would take me on these spontaneous adventures— on a hike, to go fishing on a boat, to learn how to paint. I never knew what we would do next. I had never seen Maman so happy either."
"What happened?" Hermione asked, though the look on her face seemed as though she could guess.
"This time when my mother got pregnant, he stayed," Fleur replied, shutting her eyes at the memories, "But by the time Gabrielle was less than two months old, he was gone again."
"That's awful, Fleur," Hermione said, reaching out to squeeze her hand, "Did you ever hear from him again?"
"Non," Fleur shook her head, "One day he was there, the next he was gone again. My mother never speaks of him now."
They stood there for a moment, hand in hand. Hermione exhaled, and Fleur wondered if she heard the Gryffindor cursing under her breath.
"And your mother has high standards," Hermione prompted.
"We are not allowed to show strong reactions in public, we must always get the best grades, we must always excel in everything we put our minds to," Fleur explained, "She will not accept anything less than me winning every single task in this tournament."
"And if you don't?" Hermione asked.
Fleur smiled as her chest filled with familiar sadness and disappointment.
"I don't like to think about it," Fleur admitted.
"And you feel as strongly about your grades and the tournament?" Hermione asked.
Fleur squeezed Hermione's hand, feeling oddly calm despite the heavy topic. She wondered if Hermione felt the same way. Usually sharing anything sensitive about herself was enough to cause Fleur to break into an anxious sweat. With Hermione it felt right.
"A part of me is driven to get good grades and win the tournament to show everyone," Fleur confessed, "Nobody ever takes me seriously. Nobody can ever see past the Veela thing. Everyone assumes I'm vapid… Or worse, dangerous. I want to show everyone that there is more to me. But I also want to prove it to myself."
Fleur shivered as the warming charm began to wear off. Hermione turned to look at her with concern.
"Sorry, it is way too cold up here," Hermione apologised profusely, "I don't know why I showed you here in such bad weather. Let's get into the warm."
Hermione pulled Fleur by the hand, taking them back into the staircase. As soon as she had firmly closed the hatch to the Astronomy Tower, she turned to Fleur and wrapped her in a tight embrace. She rubbed her hands up and down her back in a motion to warm her. But Fleur felt like a flame was sparked within her.
They stood like that for a while at the top of the spiral staircase, embracing in the dim light. Hermione kept rubbing Fleur's back rhythmically. It was soothing.
Finally, Hermione released her slowly. As they had almost entirely parted, Hermione locked eyes with Fleur.
"I take you seriously," Hermione said softly.
Fleur almost didn't realise she was doing it at first. It felt like the most natural thing in the moment, leaning forward and pressing her lips against Hermione's. Hermione's lips felt so soft against hers and she let out a small hum of appreciation.
Soon her hands were tangled in soft brunette curls and she had a Gryffindor pinned against the wall of the staircase. Hermione seemed almost shocked at first, simply allowing Fleur to kiss her. Then she began to kiss back with fervour.
Fleur felt her stomach flip so wildly it was as if she were on a rollercoaster. She nipped at Hermione's full bottom lip, causing the Gryffindor to sigh with pleasure, a sound that almost brought Fleur to her knees.
Hermione grew bolder as the kissing continued, her hands making their way to Fleur's hips and holding her in place. Fleur felt a soft tongue prod tentatively against her lips before slipping gently into her mouth.
Fleur had kissed many people in her life. Fleur had kissed girls before. However, none of those kisses held a candle to what she was experiencing with Hermione. Pure euphoria.
Fleur pressed herself into Hermione more fervently. Kisses became needier, more passionate. Hermione's hands drifted up and down Fleur's back, before— daringly— coming to hold her rear.
Fleur dipped her head and kissed at the soft skin of Hermione's neck, inhaling Hermione's scent. She smelled like fresh parchment and honey. Fleur smiled against her neck, nipping it playfully before kissing it better. Hermione's hands tightened briefly on Fleur's ass and the brunette let out a small whimper.
They kissed again, slowly, their tongues lightly caressing, before finally parting. Fleur leant her forehead against Hermione's, a little out of breath.
"Wow," Hermione whispered.
"Amazing," Fleur sighed.
Later that evening, Fleur stopped by Gabrielle's room in the carriage to make sure her baby sister was in bed. She was a wayward kid, even moreso since discovering the Hogwarts: A History books.
Sure enough, Gabrielle had been up drawing. After patiently nodding and smiling at all Gabrielle's drawings, Fleur ushered her sister to bed and turned off the light.
Usually she would be a little annoyed. But tonight Fleur felt like she was walking inches above the ground.
Her confusion and lack of trust with Hermione had finally given way into something more. Hermione had opened up with her, properly. Fleur had discovered that Hermione was just as stressed and messed up as she was.
"Gabrielle up late again?" Julie asked, leaning against a wall in the hallway of the carriage.
"Of course," Fleur smiled, "She is such a little menace."
Fleur began to walk to her own room and Julie fell into step with her.
"You left dinner so suddenly, we didn't really get to talk much," Julie said, "How are you feeling after the announcement?"
"Relieved, to be honest," Fleur sighed with a smile, "I was really worried about the second task. I don't think they could come up with a task that could daunt me as much as the original plan, so I'm more than happy for them to make a new one."
"What about the Yule Ball?" Julie asked casually as they reached Fleur's door.
"What about it?" Fleur asked, cocking her head to one side.
"Champions have to take partners," Julie replied, "Have you… er… thought about who you would take?"
"Julie…" Fleur replied softly. A pained look crossed Julie's face.
"I mean, we could just go as friends," Julie said quickly, "I promise I wouldn't read into anything!"
"I don't want to lead you on," Fleur said quietly, "I don't anyone to get hurt."
This seemed to be the breaking point for Julie. For a horrible moment, it looked as if she might cry. She frowned, blinking back tears.
"No, you just want Hermione Granger to hurt you," Julie replied.
"Julie," Fleur replied sadly. She hated seeing her best friend hurt like this. Julie shook her head and swiped an arm across her eyes.
"I'm sorry, that was a shitty thing to say," Julie replied, "I guess I'm just tired. I've been so worried about you and the second task I haven't been sleeping well."
Fleur felt dreadfully guilty. She needed to fix things with her best friend.
"Julie, let's make time to talk this all through properly. At the next Hogsmeade weekend? We can talk it all out away from prying ears," Fleur promised, "I don't want to lose your friendship."
Julie nodded.
"I don't want to lose your friendship either," Julie replied.
They smiled sadly at each other before Julie bid her goodnight and retreated back to her own quarters. Fleur sighed heavily as she unlocked the door to her room.
She wished she could tell her best friend about kissing Hermione. About how incredible and mind blowing it had been. About how quietly thrilled she was at being the one who had got to kiss the brightest witch of Hogwarts. The most adorable bookworm. Maybe one day she could? But for now she was sure details about what had transpired that night would only crush Julie.
Hermione was still grinning her head off as she woke up the next morning. The previous day had been all over the show, but had definitely ended on a high. After a rather intense and cathartic conversation with Fleur, Hermione had enjoyed probably the most intimate make out she had ever experienced in her life.
She'd initially felt a little wary of spilling her soul to Fleur like that… But as she'd got talking… It had just felt right. The more she shared with the blonde, the lighter she felt. Then when Fleur finally opened up to her in return? Hermione never would have expected that.
Hermione had grown used to the idea that Fleur would never be able to fully trust her. But the previous evening, when both of them had shut off their over-active brains from thinking, had simply existed together and shared their deepest experiences and feelings, Hermione had felt a deep connection she had never felt with anyone before. Not even Harry or Ron. Evidently Fleur had felt the same, or she never would have initiated the first kiss.
When Hermione made it down to the Common Room, Ron and Ginny were waiting for her by the portrait-hole. No Harry.
"Hasn't calmed down yet?" Hermione asked, her mood falling a little.
"Not yet," Ron said uncomfortably. He nudged Ginny with his elbow.
"Oi, why do I have to tell her—" Ginny muttered, "Oh Christ, fine. Hermione, McGonagall wants to see you in her office. Right away."
At that Hermione's stomach entirely dropped and all thoughts of snogging stunning blondes left her mind.
"Crap," Hermione cringed.
"Crap indeed," Ron concurred, "What dya think she's going to do to you? Expel you? Send you down to work with Hagrid?"
"Oi, shut up!" Ginny shoved her idiot brother, "Why'd you go and say all that, huh? Now you've just stressed her out more!"
"Preparing her for the worst!" Ron defended, "I'm helping!"
The two siblings bickered all the way to McGonagall's office to drop Hermione off before breakfast. It was actually strangely soothing. The familiar squawks and shoves of the Weasley siblings took her mind off her imminent academic doom. No doubt she would be facing disciplinary action of the highest degree for meddling in the Triwizard Tournament.
Ron and Ginny paused long enough in their arguing to earnestly wish Hermione luck, before breaking into an argument over whether they would wait for her outside McGonagall's office or in the Great Hall. Hermione left them to it, knocking on McGonagall's door before opening it with dread.
"Come in, Miss Granger," McGonagall called across the room. She spoke sternly, but then she often did, so Hermione couldn't quite gauge how bad the situation was. Hermione walked across the office before hovering near a chair, too nervous to sit.
This time no biscuit tins were offered.
"Miss Granger," McGonagall began with no interlude, "I am sure you've seen the feature article by Rita Skeeter."
"Yes, Professor,"
"And heard the announcement last night along with the rest of the school,"
"Yes, Professor,"
McGonagall leaned forward and looked at Hermione over the rim of her glasses.
"Then it should come as no surprise to you that we followed up with Ms Skeeter about her sources," McGonagall said severely.
Hermione swallowed heavily. Her heart began to thump so hard she wouldn't be surprised if it launched right out of her chest and landed on the desk between them.
"Unfortunately, Ms Skeeter has declined to reveal her sources," McGonagall said, before adding distastefully, "Journalistic integrity."
Well, at least Rita has some integrity, Hermione thought to herself.
"So I am left here, wondering how this could happen so soon after a student came to me with issues about the second task of the triwizard tournament," McGonagall continued, casting a suspicious look at Hermione.
She definitely knows, Hermione cringed, Oh, Merlin, she knows.
Hermione's mind turned back to McGonagall swiftly dismissing all concerns with the second task due to lack of evidence. She smiled innocently.
"Professor, do you have any evidence as to who it could be?" Hermione asked, raising her eyebrows. McGonagall narrowed her eyes at her.
"Well, it seems rather like the actions of three Gryffindor students who are known for taking the law into their own hands," McGonagall replied sternly, before conceding, "But, no, Miss Granger."
"Then, by the school's logic, shouldn't we refrain from jumping to conclusions and making rash actions?" Hermione asked, cocking her head to one side with faux-innocence.
McGonagall's already thin lips stretched into a thin line.
"I suppose so," McGonagall forced out.
Oh, I am definitely no longer her favourite student, Hermione thought to herself. However, the relief coursing through her system definitely made her feel like she had made the right decision.
"Is there anything else, Professor?" Hermione asked, smiling politely. She could tell by McGonagall's look that the professor could see straight through her bullshit.
"No, Miss Granger," McGonagall sighed irritatedly, "You may go."
"Thank you," Hermione nodded.
As her hand wrapped around the door handle, McGonagall called out to her.
"If I so much as catch you looking at the next task suspiciously, you'll be in serious trouble, Granger," McGonagall warned.
Hermione smiled, facing the door.
"I know, Professor."