DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but this twisted so-called "plot".

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Hermione's eyes opened slowly at dawn, blearily sweeping across her room: A patchwork of diffused purple light and deep shadows. She sat up, her mad mass of hair fell all around her, and she raised her arms high above her head to stretch. Rolling her neck, she kicked away her duvet and set her bare feet onto the plum rug by her bed. She bent to touch her toes, holding the pose until the muscles in the back of her thighs felt a pull. Her hair tumbled forward, spilling onto the floor.
Such was her daily morning routine: She'd stretch, drink a glass of water, splash some on her face, pull her hair up, yank on her joggers, slip on her trainers, and then step outside into the cool morning to get her blood rushing and her heart thumping.
It was her daily routine and she followed it every day, just as she did on that day; on just another regular old Saturday.

Dense, murky clouds had begun to infiltrate the sky by the time she had finished. She kept a measured pace while returning to her room, looking about the same old ground and at the same old castle on that very, very regular day.
She spent a long time washing herself, generously slathering her skin with her favourite orange body wash. She conditioned her hair twice. She shaved her legs very carefully. She sang along with the sound of hundreds of drops of water hitting against the tiles.

Baby's good to me, you know
She's happy as can be, you know
She said so
I'm in love with her and I feel fine

She felt fine as she towelled herself off, and as she rubbed lotion onto herself, and as she roughly dried her hair with Bellatrix's wand, and as she put on a pair of jeans and a light jumper. She helped herself to another glass of water. She sat on the edge of her bed and stared at the back of her door.
Bugger.
She shouldn't have gone for that run.
It had given her quite an appetite, and that really messed up her plan for that very ordinary day: SIR ADGO, i.e., Stay In Room And Don't Go Out. Sir Adgo, she'd decided, had the temperament of Scrooge, and looked like W.G. Grace. A fine thing to aspire –

Shit, she was starving.

With an annoyed huff, she stood up, and decided it was still quite early. Perhaps nobody else would be awake, and she could run down to the Great Hall, scarf down a plate of eggs, and run back up. Okay. She nodded to herself.

But it was a mistake.
A big mistake if there ever was one. She knew it the moment she set foot in the common room.

They stood in a bloody line; Theo, Ginny, Luna, Neville, and Dean, all with giant shit-eating grins on their faces.
"Happy birthday!" they chorused.
Hermione promptly spun around to return to quiet sanity, and –
And someone caught her by the shoulders and dragged her back.
"Don't be a downer," Theo muttered as he hugged her to his side.
Hermione scowled as she was passed around, from one embrace to the other, ending up with Ginny gripping her arms and hopping on the spot like a deranged bunny rabbit.
"We're going to Hogsmeade after breakfast, alright?"
"Ginny," Hermione groaned, "Please–"
"To the bookshop," Ginny went on loudly, "Everybody wants to buy you a present."
Somewhat mollified, Hermione let herself be dragged down by Ginny and Theo, both of whom had apprehended one of her arms each.
"And then," Ginny beamed, "There's a surprise!"
"What is it?"
"A surprise, you ninny."

It was highly disturbing, the number of people who wished her on the way. Random, unknown first years to seventh years, from all houses, threw 'happy birthday's at her in a way that made her want to duck for cover.
"What is this?" she hissed, "Was there some kind of public announcement made or something?"
"Er, a couple of days after the – the whole... battle... thing – the Prophet published a very detailed biography of Hermione Granger," Theo replied wryly.
"What?" she reeled, "How dare they!"
"You're a public figure, buddy. Better get used to it."
Grumbling, Hermione settled down at the Gryffindor table and was angrily buttering her toast when an owl descended before her bearing an enormous package. From her parents no doubt and that was enough to make her smile a little. Over the course of the next half hour, two more parcels arrived: one wrapped in no-nonsense brown paper, and one shabbily bundled in bright yellow. She looked over at the faculty table to exchange a grin with McGonagall and Hagrid.

"Let's go, let's go, let's go!" Ginny warbled, bouncing on the balls of her feet with pointless excitement.
"Ugh," Hermione grunted, "I need to go back to my room."
"Sorry, no," Theo stated with finality.
"I can't lug these around!" she wailed, indicating towards her armful of presents, "And I don't have my jacket. It's nippy outside."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Fine. Go with her, Theo. I don't trust her. We'll meet you at the entrance."

xxx

The carriage ride to Hogsmeade was anything but peaceful. Theo rambled on and on about what cake Hermione's parents might have sent for her. Ginny's eyes twinkled with glee over her soon to be revealed surprise. Luna was spewing some waffle about the significance of the number nineteen that not even Neville was pretending to listen to. Hermione decided then and there that she would choose the most expensive books in the shop for them to buy for her.
Nevertheless, she was still Hermione Granger, the girl who turned into a contented little lump whenever she found herself surrounded by books. She took her time pacing between the shelves, picking out tomes that piqued her interest and thumbing through them. If her companions were bored, they spoke nothing of it.
Afterwards, with a large paper bag in hand, they tripped into Honeydukes... and then Zonko's, and then Gladrags, for no reason at all. It was not nearly as bad as Hermione had dreaded; simply wandering around the village with her friends... Well. There were worse ways to spend the day. Sir Adgo wouldn't need to be visited by any ghosts tonight.

At around eleven, they decided to head to the Three Broomsticks for a bite and a pint, and just as they were turning the corner, Ginny grabbed Hermione's arm and whispered, "There you are. Surprise."
Hermione squealed when she spotted her messy haired, bespectacled surprise, and rushed to hug him.
"Harry!"
"Happy birthday!" he said into her hair as he held her.
"You're here!" she broke away to beam at him, "You're really here!"
"Well, of course! I couldn't miss your birthday, could I... Gran."
She shoved his shoulder playfully and with a laugh, and another very familiar voice piped up from behind her.
"Happy birthday, Hermione."
She turned with dizzying speed and stared at Ron in amazement. He looked a little pained, and kept his hands crossed tightly across his chest, clearly rejecting the hug she wasn't stupid enough to offer him.
"Thanks," she breathed, feeling a stiff smile spread across her face.
He nodded, and then scowled up at the dull sky. "Looks like rain again. Let's go in?"
They went in, breathing a collective sigh of relief at the toasty warmth of the pub, and found a corner table to settle around.
"Rosmerta," Ron cooed in that detestable manner that he put on around her, "Jolly good to see you again. Looking lovely as always."
He shot a glance at Hermione in between (literally) every two words. Was he hoping for an embarrassing display of jealousy like she'd been... unfortunately... prone to show in the past? She didn't know what to do with herself, so she just gazed down at the grimy menu before her like it was a cipher she was trying to decode.
They placed their order and Rosmerta, with a flick of her hair, told them that it was all on the house. "I won't have you lot paying in my establishment. Don't you even try it."
Ron stared at her hips as she sashayed away.
"Hey, Weasley," Theo remarked, "No joke this time?"
"Get bent."
"Ah, alright. I mean, it'll be hard to top that last one. What was it? A hag and a healer and a – hey!"
Ron threw a napkin ring at him.

All in all – it was an enjoyable meal. Hot food, warm butterbeer, and good company: a combination one really couldn't go wrong with. After the initial discomfort, Ron settled into being old Ron again once he and Harry began regaling the table with stories from Auror training.
"It's basically been like a series of D.A.D.A. lessons so far – but a lot more gruelling, obviously. Oh, and our supervisor was very impressed by how quickly I picked up wandless magic, by the way. Nobody else has managed it so far. He said I must've had a very remarkable instructor."
He winked at Hermione and she flushed with pleasure.

During a lull, Ginny asked, "How's George?"
"Not bad," Ron answered around a mouthful of steak, "Been helping him with the shop on the weekends. It's fucking swamped all day... George and Varity can barely handle it. But it's good. Keeps him busy, you know."
"Yes," Ginny murmured.

Four rounds of butterbeer later, they parted. Hermione hugged Harry, waved at Ron and set off towards the castle. Ginny had stayed behind, Neville had gone to meet Hannah, and Theo and Luna got lost in their own world, strolling along with their arms wrapped around each other.
"Did you have fun then?" Dean smiled down at her.
"Yes," she assured him, smiling back, "Thank you. It was lovely."
"I have another present for you, by the way."
"Oh," she started, "You didn't have to –"
"From Seamus," he continued, "He's cut a deal with a booze supplier, you see. Two bottles of prime firewhiskey await you."
"Oh, brilliant," she laughed.

Theo's fifth guess turned out to be right. It was a rich black forest cake that her parents had sent her, and Hermione brought it out to the common room in the evening to share with everybody. On Ginny and Theo's insistence, she was made to blow out candles and awkwardly stand there while everybody sang the birthday song. (In the middle of that tortuous rendition, Zabini and Greengrass stalked off.)
It was followed by a lot of (unnecessary) individual wishes and a lot of oh thank you, thank you on her part. Padma patted her on the back, and Tracey Davis spoke to her for the first time ever.
"Happy birthday."
Hermione tried to not let that sully her opinion of the girl. "Oh thank you, thank you."
Terry Boot hugged her, which she thought was quite uncalled for... and when he didn't let go for a solid four seconds, she decided it was downright inappropriate.

It was when she was looking around the room to ensure that everybody had got a piece that she noticed Malfoy sitting by a window, reading. Hermione swallowed, sucked in a breath, rolled her shoulders, tapped her right foot, performed a whole assortment of similar procrastinating motions, before picking up a plate and walking over to him.
He looked up as she approached; first at her face, then at the cake, and back at her face. During that little dance, one of his eyebrows climbed up his forehead, so at the final glance, Hermione was presented with Draco Malfoy With An Arched Brow. It was almost a visual trope; an expression so completely bound to the single-dimensional notion of Malfoy As The Prized Git And Bully she'd always had, that she almost laughed. Her amusement must have shown, because both his brows pulled down, and please look, here we have the classic Draco Malfoy Scowl. She'd seen that expression so many times before.
He sat up straight as she got closer, gently shutting his book. The scowl persisted.
"Here," she said in her ridiculous high voice, and thrust the plate towards him. When all he did was eye it mistrustfully, she huffed. "Go on, Malfoy. I haven't poisoned it. It's just a slice of birthday cake."
He looked back at her, and the scowl was gone. His face was just... blank; every line was smooth, and every angle was sharp. He kept looking at her as he accepted the cake. Hermione turned away the moment her hand was free, but she'd taken no more than a step and a half, when his voice, soft and a bit gravelly, washed over her.
"Happy birthday."
She froze, but she didn't turn around. "Thank you."

Over an hour later, less than a quarter of the cake remained. Hagrid's rock cakes were untouched. The second bottle of Seamus' firewhiskey was half empty.
Half full?
Hermione rolled her eyes at herself. Even so, she was smiling. The scene around her filled her with warmth and affection. She supposed the bottle was half full after all. Well, it was, until Dean took care of it.
As another round made its way, Hermione followed Dean and the bottle. First there was Theo, (still eating cake,) and Luna, (who was feeding him the cake.) Then there were Padma and Tracey sat close together, playing a rowdy game of exploding snap with Justin and Susan. Neville had Hannah squirming and giggling on his lap as he tickled her, and from the next chair, Malfoy rolled his eyes. Michael was doing a highly dramatised re-enactment of Neville beheading Nagini... with Anthony playing the snake.
"OW! I told you! Not so hard!"
"Hah! That's the exact opposite of what your mum said to me last night!"
"You arsehole!"
Anthony chased him into the boy's dorms.

Lisa waved to nobody in particular as she shuffled towards the girl's dorms. And Terry – damn it. Terry was coming towards her. Hermione slid off the sofa and dropped onto the carpet next to Ginny, and rested her head on the other girl's shoulder.
"So," Ginny murmured, "It was a good day, wasn't it?"
"Yeah."
Hermione yawned, after which her face settled, once again, into a smile.

xxx

Around one at night, she decided it was time to head to bed after realising that the reason the conversation she'd been engaged in had seemed one-sided was that Ginny had fallen asleep. Hermione conjured a blanket for her... and one for Dean, who was asleep on an armchair, and one for Justin who was asleep at the table, surrounded by playing cards.
"Goodnight," she muttered to Theo and Luna – the last two stragglers in the room – who were still cozied up together.
"Wait!" Theo cried. He stumbled towards her and pushed a small wrapped box into her hand, "Don't forget your present."
"You already bought me a book."
"Yeah, so?" he challenged with narrowed eyes.
"Nothing," she laughed, reaching out to squeeze his hand, "Thanks."

She cried once she had unwrapped it. He'd got her a watch.

The Art of Transfiguration in Ancient Greece: Separating Myth from Reality was the title of the book McGonagall had given Hermione for her birthday. It was an unbelievably fascinating study, pulling down the great gods from their mountain top and deeming them nothing more than exceptionally talented witches and wizards. She remained transfixed to the book for three days, barely aware of life going on around her. The only reason she made it to lessons on time was the perfectly functional, pretty silver-strapped watch bound around her wrist. When Theo had first seen her wearing it, his smile was a beautiful thing to behold.

At six-forty-seven in the evening, sharp, she finally pulled out of the world of Greek legends to a nearly empty common room. Besides Justin and Anthony slaving over their Defence Against the Dark Art's homework, nobody was around.
Hermione dropped the book back into her bag and stretched, feeling a hundred kinks and knots in her back. Perhaps a hot shower would help sort them out. But just as she stood to act on that idea, Theo sauntered into the room with his robes and scarf draped over an arm and his shirt untucked.
"Well hullo," he grinned, "Look who's returned to the land of the living!"
Hermione ran a hand across her lightly burning eyes. "Where is everybody?"
"On the third floor. Some genius charmed all the suits of armour to dance the Furlana. It's quite a show."
"Oh my god!" Hermione gasped as her eyes widened, "Why are we here then? Let's go!"
"Nah," he drawled, and dumped his belongings onto an armchair, "Too crowded. And you're so tiny, you won't be able to see anything."
"Theooooo," she whined plaintively. She couldn't get the image out of her head, and she really, really wanted to see it.
"Come with me. I want to show you something better."
Without waiting for her to agree he took hold of her arm and pulled her up the narrow stairway that led to the tip of their tower. It was a tiny room with a conical ceiling and a large, round window. It had recently been assigned the official snogging (and other things) room, and she couldn't imagine why he was taking her up there.
"How is this better than dancing armours?" she griped once they'd climbed.
"Have some patience, will you?"
He pushed the window open and stepped out onto the ledge.
"What are you doing?" Hermione shrieked.
"Oi!" he snapped, "Don't startle me like that! Do you want me to fall off?"
"Get back in here!"
"You come out here!"
He'd walked off somewhere, and she, terrified to her core, peeked out the window and saw him sitting comfortably on the ledge, with his legs hanging down in empty air.
"Get back here this instance."
"Calm down, darling," he chided sweetly, "And join me. The view is spectacular."
"It's the exact same view from inside, without the danger of plummeting to certain death!" Hermione's voice was shrill with panic.
Unperturbed, Theo shook his head, "And that makes all the difference, you see? It's amazing out here. Come on."
"Not a chance in hell."
"You won't fall, Hermione," he said with some exasperation, "This ledge is wide enough for a hippogriff."
"No, it isn't!"
He laughed, stood up and walked closer, extending his hand out. "Trust me, Hermione. It's worth it."
"I – no. I can't."
And although those were the words that came out of her mouth, her hand reached out and took his of its own accord.
"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit," she hyperventilated as he drew her out and, ("oh shit,") once she was standing on the ledge, she scurried into his arms and looked anywhere but down.
"That's it," he cooed, "Good girl. Now let's sit down, shall we? Easy, see?"
She felt a bit better once there was solid stone under her arse, and she hugged her legs to her chest, so that they weren't dangling above an enormous drop.
"Open your eyes, you goose."
"I can't."
"Hermione."

She counted to five in her head with her eyes squeezed tightly shut. Then she let them open. The first thing she thought of was Monet's San Giorgio Maggiore At Dusk. A scorching, speckled gradient of primary colours wrapped around her. The lake reflected the sky perfectly, and nothing else existed in that psychedelic wonderland.
While Hermione stared out in awe, Theo lay back against the slanting roof with his arms tucked behind his head. They didn't need words to validate the scenery or the moment. But it wasn't long before they were interrupted.

"Are you insane?"
Malfoy and Ginny were standing at the window looking scandalised.
"Only a little," Theo responded glibly.
"I've been looking for you for ages!" Ginny keened, "And you're sitting... here. Wait." She gaped at Theo. "How did you manage to get Hermione out there!"
"I'm very persuasive. And even if I wasn't, Hermione follows my every command."
"Did you need something?" Hermione asked after she'd whacked Theo on the arm.
"Well... yeah. But it doesn't matter now. Supper's nearly over."
"Oh."
"Why are you even out there?" Malfoy asked with his patented sneer.
"The view," Hermione and Theo said at the same time.
"You know the view's the same from inside here, don't you?"
While Hermione looked away, Theo chuckled. "Hmm... I think I've heard that before."

Getting back inside was no less terrifying. Her legs shook precariously as she stood, and she kept both her hands pressed against the roof as she scuttled towards the window. Theo's reassuring hand on her back did little to calm her. Just as she was stepping in, her foot got caught on the window frame and she tripped. Her arms reached out automatically as a startled squeak tore out of her, and she grabbed onto whatever she could manage to find.
It took her a mortifyingly long time to realise that the thing she'd grabbed was Malfoy. One hand on his chest, the other at his waist, the blank white expanse of his shirt flooding her vision – she was disturbingly close to him. Pushing away hastily, she muttered an apology, hating how hot her face felt. He was Malfoy With An Arched Brow again, and he didn't tell her it was okay, or that it was no big deal, or ask her if her foot was throbbing in pain or not, (it was.) He merely dusted the wrinkles off his shirt and turned away to watch Theo, who looked quite frazzled, leap in through the window.
"Shit, Hermione, are you all right?"
"Fine," she mumbled.
"Can we go back down before people think we're up to all sorts of naughtiness here?" Ginny enquired impishly.
Malfoy made a terrible face, and was the first to charge out of the room.

September slipped away like a raindrop dripping down a frosted pane of glass, and soon enough, the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness was upon them. Caught in the whirlwind of her timetable, Hermione went from day to day with her old vigour.

xxx

With her charms textbook in one hand, and the dead weight of Bellatrix's wand in the other, she stood in the middle of the common room, trying to figure out how to undo Neville's disastrous atmospheric charm, even as hot desert wind blistered all around her. No matter how many times she tried it, Meteolojinx Recanto just didn't seem to do it. Even finite didn't work.
"Seriously Longbottom, you're the biggest twat that ever lived," Zabini growled, pulling his sweat-damp shirt away from his skin.
"I said I'm sorry!" Neville cried, "It's not like I did it deliberately!"
"Hello a – ah! Holy fuck, what happened here?" Dean, who'd just walked in gaped at the sand dunes around him with shock.
"Neville," the entire room chanted.

Three weeks after her birthday, she was back in the Three Broomsticks with Harry and Ron, and this time they'd brought George along. He looked well, Hermione thought, dressed in smart purple robes. His gold ear had a small fanged earring dangling from it.
"Present from Bill," he said with a grin.
They mostly just engaged in small talk, light and pleasant, and they ate enormous amounts of food. George had more luck with Rosmerta than Ron had ever managed – she giggled at all of his jokes. The resulting scowl on Ron's face was so endearing that she couldn't help but grin at him. And to her astonishment and great relief, he smiled back.

She returned to the castle alone – Harry had dragged Ginny away for some alone time not long after they'd eaten. The pathway was littered with fallen leaves, and the air smelt crisp and earthy after a hard spell of rain. With a full belly and a fuller heart, Hermione thought about the letter she would write to her parents when she got back to her room.

"You there! Young scholar! Are you ready to delve into the arcane depths of runic lore?" Hermione giggled at Theo's subsequent groan, and pushed a fresh sheet of parchment towards him. "Chin up, lad. We've been looking forward to this all week!"
"You've been looking forward to this all week. And stop it. Stop being so cheerful. I like my Hermione all sullen and surly."
"When am I ever sullen and surly?"
Theo blinked at her in surprise. "You're always surly."
"What rubbish." She grinned as she opened Spellman's Syllabary, and Theo groaned again.
"Well, then," Hermione began with relish, "We should begin with the–"

"Theo!"
They both jumped as Malfoy entered the room with his usual aura of grating entitlement.
"Yeah?"
"Get up. We're going flying."
"Er–"
"Have you looked outside? The sun's out. Fuck knows when that'll happen again."
"Not a good time, Draco –"
"Get your arse moving!"
"Theo is working on his ancient runes assignment right now," Hermione spoke up in a clipped manner.
Malfoy didn't even bother looking at her. "You can work on that later, it isn't going anywhere."
"Look Draco, we planned this a week ago."
"You planned to do your homework a week in advance?" Malfoy was obviously appalled. "What on earth have you become? Good grief, just put it off for an hour."
"We will not be putting anything off for your sake, Malfoy," Hermione seethed, "We're trying to work here, please go away."
Finally, finally he deigned to look her way. It was a disdainful look, but that didn't matter. She matched his scorn with her own, and then some.
"Stop trying to turn Theo into an unendurable bore like yourself."
"Draco!"
"Sod off, Malfoy. Maybe he'd actually rather do his work than spend an hour mindlessly flying around with you."
"No one remotely sane would enjoy being harped at by a painful swot who –"
"I'm sure being harped at is better than listening to an egomaniac go on about how expensive his broom is and how finely he doth fly–"
"What are you – argh! Let's just ask him what he prefers then?"
"Fine!"
"Yeah! Theo?"

Hermione and Malfoy looked at the boy who'd sunk deep into the back of his armchair, and had a fist pressed against his mouth. His eyes betrayed his panic.
"Well?!" Hermione demanded.
He straightened his back slowly while uncovering his mouth, and then said, "Ahem."
"Just tell this raging bint that you want to fly and let's get the hell out of here!"
Hermione spoke through her teeth, "Or, you tell that obnoxious prat that you'd prefer to get some work done, and tell him to get lost."
"Um."
"Theo!" Both Hermione and Malfoy exclaimed his name with frustration.
He sighed, looking absolutely wretched, and turned mournful eyes towards Malfoy. "See, we'd planned this a week ago–"
"Fine."
"Wait – Draco – hey!"

Hermione watched Malfoy storm away with not-so-quiet satisfaction, only just stopping herself from patting Theo on the back and saying, "Good choice." But Theo didn't stop staring at the door Malfoy had just disappeared behind. His brow was furrowed and he was chewing his tongue, and alarm bells went off in Hermione's head.
"Is everything all right?"
"He likes to fly when he's upset."
"Okay?"
Theo sighed and shot her a helpless glance. "It's how he stems a meltdown. He flies. If he was being so insistent, it probably means things must be quite... quite bad."
She let that sink in, biting down on her lip as she felt a pang of sympathy, followed by irritation at that pang for popping up.
"Just go," she sighed, and turned back to her book.
"Wha – But – I'm here, I–"
"Theo. Just go. He obviously needs you right now."
She could sense him watching her, so she subtly shook her hair forward.
"Will you be alright?"
"I'll be fine," she rolled her eyes, "I have my runes. I'll be just perfect."
"Are you sure you don't mind? Are you absolu-u-u-u-tely sure you aren't angry?"
"Oh, for god's sake –"
"I mean... you were so furious before."
She shrugged. "He brings out the worst in me."
"Hm."
Theo continued to watch her; seconds went by and he didn't stop.
"Why won't you leave?" she moaned, rubbing her face wearily.
"I'm going," he mumbled.
He stood up, ruffled her hair, and left.

It happened again four days later.

Hermione's temper was the kind of storm that Shakespeare would've interpreted as an omen of doom. She stomped her feet against the ground as she marched towards the common room. Electricity crackled through her hair and buzzed in her ears.
She threw open the common room door hard enough for it to slam against the wall, and growled like a feral jungle cat:
"THEODORE!"

He was playing chess with Malfoy and fell off his chair at her call.
"Fucking Salazar!" he clutched at his chest, "Hermione? What the – oh! Oh shit!"
"Remembered me, have you?" she fumed.
"Damn it, I'm so sorry! I –"
"An hour and a half! I waited for you for an hour and a half in the library, and you're here faffing about with this idiot!"
"Hold on a second! How dare –"
"I am so, so sorry!" he approached her with desperate contrition smeared all over his face, "I genuinely lost track of the time! Please believe me, I fully intended to show up!"
"An hour and a half –"
"Let me make it up to you!" he pleaded, "We won't leave the library until we've finished the whole project, alright?"
"Excuse me," Malfoy piped up indignantly, "We're in the middle of a game!"
"We'll finish it later, Draco," Theo replied quickly, "Shall we, Hermione?"
She took a calming breath and nodded, but Malfoy shot all her calm to hell.
"We won't be able to finish it later! Someone or the other will grab the board soon enough –"
"Keep an eye on it then!"
"You want me to sit here like a bloody chump while you take Merlin knows how long finishing up your project?"
"Don't be difficult, Draco!" Theo beseeched.
"If anyone's difficult here, it's that deranged fucking cow you insist on keeping around –"
"Shut up –"
"What did you just call me?"
"I called you a deranged cow, Granger." Malfoy eyed her derisively. "When will you realise that you were a mere substitute while I had – er – other things to deal with?"
Hermione's storm burst forth again, more dangerous than ever. "Other things? Ha! Is that what you call your little assassination plot?"
"Fuck off. No, seriously, fuck off. Theo's a soft-hearted chap, so he's still letting you hang around. But its better you realise that he prefers spending time with his real friend who isn't a dreadful wet blanket–"

She knew he was just running his mouth. She knew that Theo was shouting at him for doing so. She knew that she should spare him no more than a rude gesture and walk away. But her storm had reached its pinnacle. It swelled and howled and suffused her soul... and suddenly she was fourteen years old again, charging towards that same smirking face with her hand raised –

Theo caught her around the waist with one arm, lifted her off the ground and carried her away. She thrashed and flailed and ordered him to put her down but of course he didn't listen. All the while, Malfoy's acerbic laughter coiled around her constrictingly.
He carried her till they were at the staircase, and when he did put her down, he kept a firm hold on her as though worried that she'd bolt right back.
"Breathe."
She glowered instead.
"I'm so sorry," he sighed.
"I'm sorry. How are you friends with someone so horrible? How do you stand to be around him?"
Theo ran a hand across his brow dejectedly. "It seems that... you bring out the worst in him, too."
"His worst his worse than my worst!" she burst out furiously.
A surprised chuckle bubbled out of him. "My, that's quite a tongue-twister."
"Gah," she spat, "He's an absolute shit. I wish you'd let me –"
"Absolutely not. The last time you slapped him, I had to hear about it for months." Keeping his arm around her, he began leading her downstairs. "So I had to stop you, for the sake of my sanity. Not because I don't think he deserve it."

They didn't talk the rest of the way, until they were seated on their table in the corner of the library. Hermione's anger hadn't faded yet, but she could feel something else simmering underneath it. Something that lodged a pre-emptive lump in her throat.
"I really shouldn't have any need to say this," Theo said, interrupting her chaotic feelings, "But you know that he was talking utter bullshit, right? I don't want you to have another... episode... where you decide to run off and not talk to me, and I have to hunt you down, and then there's such a fuss, and I have to get seriously angry, and you end up crying, and –"
"Shut it."
"I just need to make sure –"
"Theo. I know."
"Okay, good."

She did know, but that didn't mean she didn't resent the fact that she had to compete for Theo's time. Time that was scarce; schoolwork and Luna took up most of it. God help her, but for a second – just a second, mind you – she thought things were better when Malfoy was busy with other things.

"I'll get him to apologise to you."
"Oh, please don't. If I have to be a part of one more apology scene with Malfoy, I'll explode. Then you'll have to gather all the little fragments of my brilliant brain spattered about."
"Brilliant brain?" he laughed.
"You know it's true," she shrugged, "No more apologies, okay? Just live with the hand you've been dealt. You're doomed to be best friends with two people who will forever snipe at each other."
"Hm."

And again, eight days later.

Up until that day, Malfoy had gone back to stonily ignoring Hermione, while Theo treated him with icy aloofness. She'd spent most of her time researching for a potion's assignment with Padma, Tracy, and Michael, but the time had come for her to put that research into practice.
She skipped down the stairs from the dorms as she wrapped a scarf around her neck. In the common room, Theo was standing rather vacantly with his bag on his back.
"Hello!" she sang, and he smiled. "Would you like to accompany me to forage for asphodel in the forest?"
Out from behind the sofa, Malfoy popped. "Theo and I are going to the library."
Hermione huffed while she tried to recover from the mild heart-attack he'd given her. "Were you actually hiding there, waiting for an opportune moment to –"
"Don't be daft," he frowned, "I'd dropped my quill-case." He made quite a show of shoving the case into his bag.
Theo turned to Hermione. "Would you like to join–"
"No!" Hermione and Malfoy yelped.
"It's okay," she continued tightly, "I really need to collect ingredients for my potion. I'll... I'll see you later."
She forced herself to smile reassuringly, for Theo looked dreadfully uncomfortable.

It took her half an hour to collect the required number of asphodel blooms, after which, with a basket full of pretty white flowers, she sat on a rock by the lake to watch Buckbeak make wide circuits high in the sky. Hagrid stood close by and chattered on about the hippogriff's moulting habits. He was very cheerful and very sweet, but Hermione was bored to death.