5. Granger got grenades
When all three of the Ravenclaw trio sat down in front of them for the charms project meeting, it was Hermione who stared straight into Terry's eyes and said, "You're not in our group."
Harry found himself being startled and alarmed by at least two people at the table. "Terry? Why are you here?"
"Thought I might tag along. Could I? You won't mind right, Harry?" Terry answered, so fully sincere and pleasant.
"Er—"
"If it's about the even-number ambience," Michael said with a shit-eating grin, "Luna suggested she come too, so we'll be six."
"That won't be necessary," Hermione said with a glare, "let's get started."
Thence, the much dreaded first-draft meeting got under way.
There was a lot of growing blood pressure and brow pinching all-round, and Harry was sure he was starting to sweat from between his brows from how tight they were scrunched. He'd been trying to follow all the ideas and figurative sparks in the air, when Ron pulled at his sleeves and he abruptly realized that he did not, in fact, need to pay attention to the mechanics of different energy consumptions of feather-light and hovering charms. Ron took out a chess set from under the table, Harry disillusioned it save from the two of them, and they shared a grin. The disillusion was mostly a flex, Harry admitted to himself, no one would have noticed anyway. Terry was at this point prattling on about something called time dilation, which was completely silly, as if time can be made thinner like some sort of potion. And even if the others did notice their hyperfixation or suspicious gesturing at the empty air between them, none of them would have cared.
That's because, you see, he and Ron were delegated the "practical applications" section of the project, which came at the end of the research paper, and, according to Anthony, "is always shite, nobody actually reads, and its sole reason for existence is for academics to pretend the stuff they do is at least somewhat relevant." Harry heartily disagreed. Ron shrugged and went back to directing his knight at Harry's rook.
"Don't you find it strange that 'Mione fights with those three so much?" Ron asked, as he sent Harry's last bishop running from the board.
"Huh, why?"
"I mean, it's Hermione, she's practically a Ravenclaw herself!"
"It's about time she disassociated Ravenclaws from the name Luna Lovegood... Check." Harry said, somewhat pleased with himself.
"Oh no Harry," Ron's voice was smug, and then Harry saw it, "Checkmate."
That took shorter than he thought it would. Ah well, no one could say he didn't use his brain this hour, plus it had been good for his blood pressure. "Do you think she blames them for being useless? Not the— Goyle or Parkinson kind of useless, but like the Lunda-kind of nice-useless."
Ron shrugged. He did that a lot these days.
Hermione, however, had been growing steadily more agitated. At this point, she had put out a checklist of assessment criteria in front of them, and was aggressively gesturing to it, which apparently was a source of annoyance for the Ravens.
"We can't let all this limit the integrity of our research!"
"...Not in so many words, but Hermione, if we find all this other stuff interesting, we should just do it, who cares about whether they fit in one of these silly boxes?" Michael at least tried to be diplomatic, Harry supposed.
"Well, someone's got to make sure we do what we're meant to do!"
"You know what Luna told me that one time?" Terry chimed in, "if you find yourself talking in the words of an institution, then you've lost the trail of true things."
"What does that even mean?" Ron asked, though he certainly wasn't interested in what that meant. The scene-stirring bastard.
"It means, answer the question and not the exam, Hermione."
"Enlighten me then!" Hermione threw her hands, "of what Luna would do the day she finds herself in need of a grade?"
Michael gasped with feigned shock, "do you think Luna Lovegood, of all people, would stoop to care about such trifles as grades under any circumstance?" Michael shook his head, "I admire her."
Hermione became indignantly flustered, "this whole thing is silly, since when was simply not caring considered 'cool'? If you ask me, it's all a smokescreen for people who just aren't good enough."
"Merlin, Hermione! I never knew you could be so cruel— and blatantly elitist too?"
"You guys bring it out of her. Bravo, buddy." Harry said to the Ravenclaw.
Michael only laughed his deep, charming laugh, "Really though, we can get the grades if we wanted to."
"That's just what you say!"
"Except for Luna, she might just be physically incapable of following the system. Have you heard about her last charms exam?"
"What," Terry piped up, "the one she sleepwalked into?"
"Exactly, and wrote about a magical creature that evaded the anti-cheating charm."
"With an anti-cheating quill, no less."
"We're creative, you see." Anthony sounds smugly proud.
"And weird." Harry stared flatly back at him.
"That's also true."
"Mostly weird."
"Nothing I can say against that."
Harry looked towards Hermione sitting beside him. She's been silent for a while, and has a determined look on her face that Harry didn't like at all. "You alright, 'Mione?"
Hermione, predictably, didn't look at him at all, but spoke straight at the Ravenclaws.
"So, you guys are into strange things," Hermione said calculatingly. Harry can practically see the cogs turning. It's all a valiant effort to turn the tides against them, but he could see it wasn't going to work.
"You could say so." Michael replied simply.
"Good. So I wondered whether you will support me in something I'm passionate about."
"Ugh, Hermione, is this about the elves?" Anthony asked.
Hermione brightened hesitantly, "actually, yes— how did you know?"
"Ah, well, I was one of the only ones who took a badge back when you first started it, remember?"
Hermione seemed to almost regret this information, "So… are you still interested?"
"Nah. I've since given up on the modernist notion of absolute progress."
"Oh Merlin's armpits, what is wrong with you all?"
"Hermione Granger terrifies me." Pansy said from the camp of Slytherin on-lookers.
"Even more than Terry Boot?"
"Yes, because I've got you to deal with Boot. Granger, on the other hand…"
"What has she ever done to you?"
"Existing, probably. That's how it goes with the Gryffindor nobility, I thought you'd know."
"Excuse you, what's this you're alluding to?"
"Your eternal inner turmoil about Saint Potter, what else?"
"I'm not dignifying that with a response."
"Hey— but listen, I get it now, alright? Can't you just smell the righteousness— it makes you feel like you live in an archaic mud pit."
Draco arched one brow.
"All I aspire to in my life is to stay in a fancy-ass mansion and cook nice things for myself. She'll think I'm practically the devil incarnate of patriarchy."
"You cook?"
"Yes, but that only makes me a worse feminist."
"Or she'll just find you a victim of the patriarchy."
"And try to convert me? I don't know Draco, I might be a victim of snake-faced dark lords, but Merlin help me, he ain't the patriarch."
"He ain't your daddy."
"Very mature, Blaise." Draco mourned for the time when they collectively still had a sense of humour.
"What? It was on her mind, I just said it for her."
"See, and I condone this. I'm never making it through the glass ceiling."
LOOK. I've given up all attempts at discernible, coherent plot for this mess, so it might just be this Big Bang Theory-esque thing from now on BUT HEY still I hope you're having as much fun as me!
I'd love it if you want to leave any thoughts, corrections, suggestions, or just to chat to me about any of those idiots and the stuff they talk about:)
