Ron looked at Hermione blearily, a common appearance for those those who had just been obliviated. Hermione followed up the obliviate with an immediate, "Homonium revelio!" making sure none of the other Gryffindors had seen her spell. She sighed in relief when it revealed nothing.
As Ron continued to come to, Hermione knew she'd have to have a plausible explanation to replace his forgotten memories. Quickly, she slipped her wand back in its holster and put her hand on Ron's arm. He looked up at her slowly, just seeming to notice she was there.
"Ron! I can't believe you fell asleep in the common room!" She said, laughing lightheartedly.
He seemed to snap back to reality at that, and stumbled backwards, rubbing his eyes. "Blimey, wha' time is it?"
"Oh it's quite late, Ron, you'd best get up to bed."
He nodded and turned away from her, muttering a, "G'night, Mione," before disappearing up the boys' staircase. Hermione sunk into one of the chairs. The common room seemed dark and foreboding without the fire lit, as it was down to cinders. She looked up at the golden lion on the wall, wondering vaguely when she last considered herself a real Gryffindor.
Certainly Godric Gryffindor would have admired her for her courage, wouldn't he? It took courage to stand up to your friends, Dumbledore taught her that in her first year. But she had a sneaking suspicion that it took more cunning and unyielding ambition to obliviate your best friend instead of telling him the truth. Harry, too, she had manipulated to her own ends – those ends were noble and for their own benefit – but it didn't change the hard fact that she was manipulating them. Dobby, too, she was using for her own benefit. Snape, as aggravating as he could be, was an ally, and she had ignored his advice on principal. Was Draco the only one she didn't have to be a Slytherin around?
She heaved herself up from the squishy chair and trudged up the stairs, her thoughts weighing heavily on her mind as she went.
"Ooh, she's finally back!" Squealed Lavender. "Hermione, darling, who is he?"
Hermione looked at her with the most incredulity she had ever seen. Lavender and Pavarti were having a typical night in, full of Witch Weekly articles, new collages of famous wizards, and -apparently- gossiping about her. What they meant by "he" she had no idea, though.
"Oh c'mon Hermione, you don't have to hide it from us!" Pavarti squealed excitedly. "Was it that guy from Beauxbatons you keep talking to? Or his sister, you've never told us which way you swing-"
Ah, now she got it. They thought she had been rendezvousing with a paramour, and that was why she was out so late. Hermione almost snorted – what would they say if she told them the truth, that she had been chatting with Snape for the last few hours?
Hermione briefly considered telling them about Victor, but as he really hadn't made any moves yet besides getting himself stuck as a half-shark, she wasn't about to tell the two biggest chatters in the year about the likelihood that she would date a famous Bulgarian Quiddich player. She couldn't just leave them hanging, though, so she compromised.
"Oh, am I that obvious?" Hermione grinned coyly, pulling her hair behind her ears in an effort to look shy. "I, erm, I may have met a guy recently." The girls made such a racket at this, you'd have thought she had just announced that she'd eloped and was now going to move to Bulgaria and have Krum's babies.
"It's still really new, so I don't want to jinx it by talking about it too much." She said, trying to dissuade them from discussing it further.
Lavender furrowed her brows and asked, "How would talking about something put a jinx on it?"
"Oh, muggle phrase, I suppose. It just means that if I talk about it too early, it may never happen. It's like a self-fulfilling prophecy," she said, tapping into one of the only Divination topics she had any remote knowledge of.
This prompted more oohs and aahs from the girls, and Hermione was spared from having to tell them the name of her mystery man.
She did, however, end up staying far later than she wanted to. She kept telling herself how useful it was to be on good terms with them, and that's why she let herself be included in their sleepover activities, but it was tedious. Finally, she faked a yawn and begged to be excused, after two more hours of vapid giggling and blathering on.
Blissfully alone in her four-poster, Hermione cast a noise-deafening charm (to block out the continued talking from Lavender and Pavarti) and fell into a satisfyingly deep sleep.
Break
Life went on with a surprising amount of normalcy, as far as Hermione's schooling was concerned. It was truly amazing, just how much life could turn on its head, and despite the changes to her view of the w
Harry was taking a well-deserved break from training, which she knew not to pester him too much about (yet). Her experience in the last timeline – of Harry treating her comments like an aggravating fly that he couldn't get rid of – taught her to bide her time. He was a fourteen-year-old boy, after all. There was only so much he could take at one point.
She did find herself grinning like mad when McGonagall announced the Yule Ball, after which Harry and Ron had so much fear in their eyes.
The Yule Ball was one of the few events she was actually, genuinely looking forward to. It had ended rather badly, the last time around, but she had different priorities now, and foresight to change everything. She found herself sitting in the library, waiting for Victor to ask her to the ball. He really was a good friend of hers.
The next day, she was finishing a Transfiguration essay (due after break, because Merlin knew she'd have enough to do when they were off school), and Victor finally left the stacks and approached her table.
"Hermyony," he said quietly, "may I speak vith you?"
She turned around and smiled, recognizing the dour look of her soon-to-be-date. "Oh, Victor, of course! It's lovely to see you again."
"And it is loffly to see you. I haff a question for you, if you do not mind?" He motioned to the chair, and she gestured him into it. Wordlessly, he waved his wand around them, creating a privacy ward.
The girls that followed him around constantly suddenly scattered, remembering something very important they needed to attend to. Hermione nodded her appreciation.
"Headmaster Karkaroff just told us the Yule Ball iz occurring, and vas vondering if you vould like to go vith me." He was twisting his hands in his lap, a sure sign that he was nervous.
"Absolutely, Victor. Oh, that would be quite fun."
A part of Hermione had always wondered why Victor had chosen her – potentially at random – to go to the ball with him, but there were actually many reasons. She liked to think that he honestly enjoyed her company, and enjoyed that she cared more for his mind than his fame. The more cynical part of her, which sounded more and more like Snape or Draco, realized there was some strategy there as well. She was one of the best friends of the fourth champion, and would surely be able to spill the beans to him if he convinced her.
Admittedly, it was probably a combination of the two. He must've noticed she hadn't fawned over him like the majority of the Hogwarts girls, and she had the potential benefit of "enemy" information. Whatever his motivations, she found herself enjoying his company the last time, and she was pleased to accept.
They stayed in the library for a bit longer, chatting at first and then entering a comfortable state of mutual studying. Eventually, Hermione had to say her goodbyes. She had felt so bad about obliviating Ron that she offered to teach him alteration charms, to take the frills off his ugly tan robes. When she explained this to Victor, he got a good laugh about it, and suggested a few fun effects to add.
When she made it to the common room, Ron was sitting alone by the fire. She looked down at the robes with a disgusted look. They really were quite horrible.
"Thanks for helping me with this, Mione. I don't know what I'd do without you," Ron said, sounding very greatful.
Hermione snorted. "Well, you'd just end up going with some very… erm, unique robes, wouldn't you?"
He wrinkled his nose. "I'd rather go home for the hols than go looking like that." He gestured to the robes to emphasize his point.
"Well there's only one way to fix it, then. What color would you like, Ron?" She asked, flicking it between some alarming shades of magenta and periwinkle.
"It's alright, Mione, I can do the color." He said, looking green.
She giggled slightly. "Are you certain you don't want magenta? It'll go so well with your eyes."
Fred and George, who had just walked down from the portrait hole, roared with laughter. "Oi, Ronnikins, I think you managed to find the only robes in existence that look worse than your old ones!" Fred choked out between breathless gasps.
Ron reddened slightly, and flicked his wand to turn the de-frilled robes to a nice dark blue. "What do your robes look like, anyway?" He grumbled unhappily.
"Oh dear, dear brother, we will be stealing the show!" said George.
Fred continued. "See, we can't spend all our hard earned coins on Canary Creams and fake wands – we also bought ourselves some decent robes."
"Mum was pleased that we wanted to spend our allowance on robes, I think."
"Well, only because the robes were covering all the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes!"
They broke into laughter again, and even Ron cracked a smile at the image of smuggling joke items under some dress robes.
"We just came back from a meeting with McGonagall," Fred said happily. "Just heard about the ball – wild stuff, they've even got the Weird Sisters coming!"
Ron didn't look cheered by the Weird Sisters, however. He seemed very nervous about the whole thing, even with his new formal wear. "D'you know who you want to take?" He asked Fred and George.
George grinned, and said, "Yeah, I reckon I'll take Angelina."
"I'm going for Rachel, I think." Rachel Crowley was a Ravenclaw seeker, also a sixth year.
Fred and George looked over at Hermione, who had thus far kept quiet. "Anyone asked you yet, Mione?"
"Well, now that you ask, someone has."
"No way!" Ron exclaimed.
"Who was it?" said Fred excitedly.
She looked down slightly, pretending to blush. "Oh, I don't know if I can say. He might want to keep it quiet, you know. But I said yes, of course. It should be a lovely time."
"Who wanted to go with you, Mione?" He seemed disturbed at the idea that anyone would want to take Hermione to the ball, and Hermione found herself getting upset despite herself.
Fred and George cut in before another argument could start. "Oh Ronnie,"
"Little Ronnie, doesn't even realize the beauty right in front of him."
"Look at that beautiful hair, those dainty, ink stained fingers, who wouldn't want to take Hermione to the ball?"
Hermione didn't know whether to be pleased or to laugh. "Thank you, I think." she said tentatively, and one of the twins winked at her.
AN: I recently realized that the original first task was on a Tuesday, and I have it set on a Friday. But since it's already written into the storyline, and it's pretty stupid to have it on a Tuesday anyway, I'm going to leave it where it is. I really struggled writing this chapter, and finally gave up editing and decided this was the best it's gonna be. Maybe I'll clean it up later.
Thanks for your support, as always!