Chapter 8. Unsuitable
Having just left her Defence lecture, Hermione was grinning ear to ear and she couldn't get rid of it. It was honestly beginning to worry her, maybe someone might wonder why she was smiling so heartily and start asking questions that she didn't even know the answers to. She fluttered onto her next class and found a seat near the back as to avoid the questioning she'd likely endure from her usual Charms partner, Neville. He had the best intentions and was generally quite clueless, but he had a knack for noticing things she didn't want to be noticed and bringing them to light. He also lacked subtlety which would likely result in more attention than she was looking for. Still, Hermione was not prepared to give up on her contented feeling in order to mask herself in front of her friend.
A figure sat beside her, and she held in a groan before she glanced up to see who it was. The answer all but blasted the smile from her face as she stared into the piercing blue eyes of Draco Malfoy. Frozen for a moment, she pondered her course of action. Should I get up and change spots? My smile is surely gone but what if Draco makes a big fuss over it? By the time Hermione had resolved to escape her current location, gathering her things in a huff, Professor Flitwick stormed through the door and tottered up to the front of the class.
"If everyone will be seated, we can begin!" He said chipperly, making Hermione sit down and sigh as she examined her bench partner through her periphery. He was rigid, no longer staring at her, and was gripping his wand rather firmly. Perhaps he was just as uncomfortable sitting with me as I am with him? She glanced about the room, looking for anywhere else even she could have moved to, but the classroom was in full attendance today and there was not a free seat to be seen. She couldn't pinpoint the feeling that washed over her. Relief? Annoyance? Either way, she was stuck sitting next to the miniature Death Eater her entire friend group despised. The arse who calls me Mudblood and supposedly curses and poisons people, if you believe Harry, she thought, shuffling more onto her side of the bench. No matter how she positioned herself, she always felt as though she were far too close to the blond, making the rest of the class pass uneasily.
They learned the Aguamenti Charm which was something Hermione had been practising a good long while. The witch was always thirsty when she locked herself in the library, so having the power to summon water at will was something she was eager to learn so she didn't have to forgo her spot in the stacks. With a flick of her wrist, she charmed the goblet in front of her and it filled with water. Taking a sip, she let her eyes wander to her partner who was equally at ease with the spell. She wasn't sure if it filled her with jealousy to see her academic rival so comfortable with a charm she had worked so hard to become adept at, or if it was a sense of admiration. She brushed off both conclusions and continued refilling her goblet until her professor took notice.
"Well done, Miss Granger!" Professor Flitwick praised, strolling over to her. "And Mister Malfoy, always competing to be the best. I must say, you two have picked this charm up rather quickly!" Hermione blushed and refused to glance over at her bench mate. She did, however, notice Neville staring back at her with a confused expression painting his features. "Feel free to wander about and help other students, you two, since you have it mastered." As the professor started off again, Hermione hesitated, glancing around at her classmates who were staring at her and Draco with the same perplexed expression her friend had. A nervous pit developed in her stomach, so she stood, striding over to Neville and leaning on the desk in front of him.
"Good morning Neville, how's your day been so far?" She asked cheerfully as she assessed the room from her periphery. Neville shrugged, clearing his throat and casting Aguamenti but the goblet in front of him remained bone dry.
"This about sums up my day so far." He muttered disappointedly. Hermione sighed and grabbed the boy's hand lightly.
"You see, you're flicking your wrist wrong." She motioned the correct formation of the charm for him to copy. He muttered the charm again, and once more failed to produce even a drop of water. "With confidence, Neville, you're a brilliant wizard, don't be afraid." She encouraged, sending him a grin which made him blush lightly. He repeated the charm for the third time and successfully filled half the goblet with water. "Wonderful! You've got this, Neville." A tap on her shoulder made her turn around to see Padma with a devious smirk on her face.
"I hear you're dating Malfoy, is it true? I saw you sitting together." She questioned, sending Hermione into a fit of laughter.
"Not a chance in the world, Padma, he hates muggle-borns, don't you remember? I doubt he would have even breathed near me had there been anywhere else to sit." Hermione reasoned, placing her hand on her friend's shoulder who was now also snickering at the idea. "Thanks for the laugh, though, I needed that." The witch stood up straight and wiped her cheeks of nonexistent tears. "Now, how's your Aguamenti going?"
-x-
Sitting in one of the cosier spots in the common room, Hermione was happily curled up, rereading the book. Having penned in the missing page from memory, she was content in her ability to gather more details of the novel before her discussion with Professor Snape. She had finished all the homework for that night and wrote a better paragraph on Inferi to hand into Professor Snape. She knew he wouldn't like it, that he would likely not accept it, but she was determined to prove she had studied the creatures and she had been just far too distracted in class to offer up anything more than the textbook definition of them. She had wanted to give more details, examples of them being conjured in the past, but she couldn't bring the dates or the names of the perpetrators to the front of her mind. The novel had taken up a great portion of her brain power for that day, but mostly her mind was swirling with the thoughts of how she could talk to her professor about it without him feeling harassed. Thankfully he offered up meeting after our tutor session, I would have gone mad holding it all to myself. Her eyes glazed over as she reread the same sentence three times without ever actually registering what was on the page as she continued pondering what might happen during their meeting.
The two were sitting in front of the fire, having a heated debate on how the book should have ended and who should have actually been the murderer. "The answer that was given was far too easy, far too simple." Hermione protested, flipping the pages mindlessly, avoiding his piercing eyes.
"No, you see Miss Granger, the fact that the answer was so obvious is what makes it so amazing. Who would suspect it would be the most obvious answer? It had to be her partner, who else could it have been?" Hermione pondered the question for a moment, watching his shoes, the fire reflecting in their shine, and smiled.
"It could have been Christoff, the manager, he had access and seemed so innocent the whole time. Would have been a brilliant twist, who would have suspected him to be the killer?" Hermione retorted, a sneaky grin playing on her lips.
"You and I both, it seems." She finally met his eyes and he was smiling back at her. Her breath caught in her throat and her face fell as she watched his lips curl into a grin. They approached her slowly and soon when her gaze moved up to meet his, she felt his lips capture her own and she melted. His arms wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her up from her seat, enveloping her and kissing her deeply. It felt as though the air was sucked from her lungs as she hungrily gripped him, forcing herself as close to his form as possible.
Lost in thought, she was about to flip the page that she hadn't actually read when the sounds of her male companions chatting drew her attention. "I don't know what's up with her, mate, the girl's gone mental." Ron lamented. The witch stayed in the shadows, as the pair had obviously not noticed her, and watched as they took their place on the couches. The room was relatively empty, save her and her friends and a couple of first years playing Gobstones near the entrance.
"She's probably just a bit stressed, you know how Hermione gets when she's studying for things." Harry offered, leaning against the cushions on the sofa and opening the Quidditch magazine Ron had been distracted with the previous night. "There's probably some exam or paper she has due that we don't even know about yet." Ron scoffed and leaned back as well.
"You know she's crazy about me, probably just jealous about me an' Lav so she's acting out. Why else would she be out so bloody late?" Ron questioned, but Harry remained silent as he flipped through the pages. "She wouldn't even tell me where she'd been y'know? Probably snogging Dean to get back at me, make me jealous or something. But that won't happen, I've got something with Lav, it's chemical. I mean, we were so close to, y'know, when McGonagall caught us last night. Lav' was so embarrassed she wouldn't speak to me the rest of the night, but she took me back awful quickly." He boasted, making Hermione roll her eyes and crack a smile. How could he be so daft yet so full of himself? She laughed internally at the thought of how she used to feel about the boy, thank Merlin I set that straight. The image of her professor strolled across her mind and she winced, realising that perhaps her feelings had merely transferred onto an equally unsuitable beau.
"You know, you ought to keep the snogging with Lavender to a minimum around her. Hermione's always had feelings for you Ron, but I can't imagine she's the type to act out of jealousy, but maybe you're right. She's probably just in a mood is all, Ron." The sound of her best friend not only openly airing her feelings towards their mutual friend without her permission but also agreeing with the ginger that she may be, in fact, jealous of the floozy he was spending his time with, sent her into a boiling rage. She stood, casting her book into a shadow beside the cushions she was sitting on and stormed from the common room. She barely registered the sound of Harry calling her name as she pushed through some second-year students and stomped down the stairwell.
She found herself aimlessly walking around the castle, the anger having been reduced to quiet sobs. The witch wrapped her arms around herself and hiccoughs as she attempted to breathe. A fat tear dripped from her cheek and landed on her hand as she strolled through the cold halls. The betrayal sat like a stone in her stomach as she walked up a narrow stairway. She gripped the handrail tightly as she pulled herself up the steps until she reached the top landing. A brisk wind nearly made her topple over as she walked to the edge of the platform and looked out at the view. The moon was nearing its full state and was illuminating the grounds below. A large telescope was positioned to her left as she leaned on the railing, avoiding knocking her head on the heavy metal beside her.
Closing her eyes, she willed herself to go back to the dreamscape she was fabricating before her heartless friends interrupted her. She imagined Snape's arms encircling her, his eyes connecting with hers as his fingertips cascaded over her form. A tear formed in her eyes when her consciousness refused to let her dip back into that blissful numbness. As she stared out at the grounds, her breathing slowed and her thoughts wandered back to the day. "I hear you're dating Malfoy, is it true?" The voice of Padma rung between her ears and she attempted a laugh, but the hilarity of the gossip wouldn't pull her from the state of betrayal she had been so violently thrown into.
"Who on earth could think I would date Draco Malfoy?" She scoffed, "That's absolutely mad." Her skin shivered with the evening chill. Sitting down, she dangled her legs over the edge and leaned her head against the metal of the railing, a sigh escaping her lips as she made out the dark form of the trees in the distance. The serenity of the situation helped a certain relaxation drift over her core. Her eyes fell shut once more, heavy as she was struck with the exhaustion built up from her day.
-x-
The sound of her dormmates rustling about in the morning tore Hermione from her slumber. She sat up straight and glanced around the room. Lavender was stretching as she pulled herself from her bed, in her pink pyjamas, and Parvati was tying her hair back in an intricate braid. The normalness of the situation baffled the witch as the previous night's events came back to her. I fell asleep on the Astronomy tower, how did I end up here? Afraid to voice the question, she stood up and ran to the prefect's lavatory. Staring herself in the mirror, she inspected her freckles closely and watched as her brown eyes looked back at her, darting around her face. Her hair was a mess, as usual, but she felt a grunge developing on her skin that she was eager to rid herself of.
Stripping quickly, she hopped into the bath she filled magically and charmed to warm up quickly. She rinsed her hair and tied it back in a braid while it was still wet, drying herself off with a simple charm and pulled on the clothes she had been sleeping in. Did I bring myself back to the tower? I would remember that, she pondered as she rushed back into the now empty dormitory and changed into her school robes. Hermione felt oddly rested, despite having woken up in her bed when she had sworn she had fallen asleep in the astronomy tower. She had been trying to remember waking up at all, or if she had been carried, and if so, who carried her? She resolved to finish the debate later when her stomach wasn't prompting her to start her day.
The witch headed down for breakfast at her normal time, far ahead of Ron or Harry, and found a spot comfortably in the middle of the row. She had helped herself to some eggs, toast, and a slice of ham and had just begun to pour herself a second class of orange juice when her friends arrived. Harry sat beside her and Ron sitting across the table beside Ginny, who was making eyes at Harry. The dark-haired boy blushed as he helped Ginny get some eggs and got some for himself. Hermione watched the exchange with admiration for the couple's determination and a slight pang of envy. While she was content with being the only member of her friend group who was single, having a crush was beginning to weigh on her greatly as she attempted to balance her emotions and her school work.
"Oi, give me some too!" Ron complained, bringing Hermione back to the present and seeing Ginny glare at her brother subtly. Harry obliged, trying not to look suspicious for treating his best friend's younger sister any different than he. Ron was still under the impression that they were just friends, of course. Friends who snogged in hallways and in hidden rooms to avoid being caught, Hermione thought with an inward chuckle. The cluelessness of her friend was beginning to grow quite hilarious, so she decided she wasn't about to ruin the last remaining light in her friend group. The witch sighed, suddenly overcome with the urge to look over at the head table, in search of her tutor, but she managed to control the urge by glancing at Harry before she returned to nibbling away at her breakfast.
The normality of the breakfast was starting to sink in, and the nagging question returned to her mind as she inadvertently let her eyes trail to the head table. How on earth did I get back into bed? The figure of her professor came into view as she became conscious of where she was looking, and her heart leapt. He was staring back at her, his brown eyes holding her in place as the world around them seemed to die down. Hermione attempted to pull away, to return to eating her breakfast before she would have to face the day, but something was keeping her trapped in the exchange. Her mouth opened as if she were intending on speaking to him, but he broke the connection before she could form any sentence. The chatter once again filled the silence she had been basking in and she returned to facing her mates who were far too engrossed in their own lives to notice Hermione's brief mental absence.
The end of the meal came far too fast, and all too soon the witch was rushing off to her morning class of Transfigurations. She was partially dreading seeing her Head of House but couldn't pinpoint why. Perhaps it's because you're in love with one of her colleagues and have been losing points for acting like a child around him? She mused, chastising herself as she trailed behind Harry and Ron. The memory of their conversation last night rushed forth in her thoughts and she slowed her pace considerably, putting distance in between herself and the boys who hadn't even bothered to apologise to her yet. Anger was boiling in her stomach and she tightened her fists when she felt a tap on her shoulder.
She spun around, a frown making its home between her eyebrows, and saw Lavender was the source of her interruption. Before she could even groan and turn away, the blonde started with purpose, "Listen, Hermione, Ron told me you've been acting all jealous and I want you to just back off. Won-won and I have something special, and you're just making it weird." Hermione hadn't been this enraged since she punched Draco in fourth year, and she was coming close to repeating the action with the girl in front of her.
Somehow, she managed to calm herself and simply turn on her heel and march to class, leaving Lavender to putter after her. Without even looking at who she was sitting beside, Hermione took the spot the furthest away from her Gryffindor pals and sat down with a huff. She pulled her notebook from her bag and sat it on the desk in front of her, opening it up to the last place she'd taken notes for the class.
"Sitting next to me an awful lot, aren't you Granger?" If anything could make her more irate than she currently was feeling, the voice of Draco Malfoy was it. A groan escaped her lips as she looked up at the boy, who was oddly grinning down at her. Gathering her book, she moved to stand, glancing around at the completely full classroom with an exasperated sigh. Of all the days to have perfect attendance, today was the day they chose? "Fucking hell." She swore as she retook her spot and inched herself as far away from the pure-blood as she possibly could without falling off the bench.
McGonagall entered the room and surveyed her class, to which Hermione sunk back in her seat. She was actively attempting to go unseen by her professor, even more so now that she was seated beside her nemesis in a class which she supposedly had at least two friends in her own House. The invisibility cloak would come in handy right about now, she guessed, biting her lip. When the green eyes of the Deputy Headmistress landed on the young witch, her expression formed into one of shock as her gaze flicked from Hermione to Draco. After a moment, the older witch moved on and began her lecture, to which Hermione was eternally grateful.
"Today we'll be focusing on your non-verbal spells, I trust you've been practising them in many other subjects, such as Defence or Charms, but in your sixth year, we greatly emphasise the need to hone and master such spells," Professor McGonagall started, pacing gracefully at the head of the class, eyeing each student carefully. With a flick of her wand, she conjured six violet roses that landed in a heap in front of Hermione. The student's cheeks grew a deep shade of red as her classmates looked over at her. She gathered the flowers and hid them under her desk quickly. "Orchideous, the spell that conjures flowers at will. You must simply think of the kind of flowers you want to produce and what formation you'd like them to appear in. Whisper the enchantment in your heads but with confidence. Go ahead, give it a go."
Hermione looked around at the students who were beginning to whisper and shoot her glances from the corners of their vision. Self-consciousness boiled around her as she withdrew her wand and thought about a single orchid in a pot, whispering Orchideous in her thoughts, and willing the image to appear in front of her. When nothing happened, her jaw fell open slightly. Why hadn't I practised non-verbal spells sooner? She questioned, furrowing her brow, and trying again. I look about as daft as Ron did when he went about attempting spells with his broken wand. Her frustration grew as she completed a third failed attempt to produce an orchid in front of her. This was only heightened when she noticed a pot of violet peonies appear on the desk space beside her. Her competitive side strengthened, and she adjusted herself in her seat, inhaling deeply. Once more she willed the flowers to appear in front of her, and with a little force, a tattered soft pink orchid petal came into view before her. Merlin's bloody beard, she cursed internally, the heat in her cheeks sticking around.
-x-
Class ended without her being able to conjure a single full bloom, which frustrated her beyond all belief. The only thing pulling her through her classes, which all seemed to centre around non-verbal magic, was the knowledge she could finally discuss the novel with Professor Snape later that day. Hopefully, over some tea, she mused. The craving for the hot beverage was growing as she walked through the threshold into her History of Magic class. Thankfully, Harry and Ron deemed this class far too boring for their liking and she would not have to think about their continued lack of remorse for their conversation. She was beginning to think they may be under the false impression that she had not been privy to their words, and they were looking for her to make the first move. I won't, she determined, knowing that the boys had to learn her value before it was too late. How can they be so cruel when I've done nothing but help them through everything? How ungrateful can two dunderheads be?
With that thought, Hermione took her spot near the front of the classroom, her notebook out and quill poised for a class full of productive notes.