Turning others' words into dust before they reached her was a tactic Hermione thoroughly enjoyed. It was difficult to apply when the words came from someone she was emotionally very invested in, but at least it diminished the ones that came from mere acquaintances. She usually took everything personally: if someone gave her a stern look, said a word in a nonfriendly tone, made a bizarre gesture, raised their voice at her, complained about her to her—anything you can think of—she took it personally.

Now literally envisioning the words coming out and turning to dust in front of her eyes decreased the percentage of things she took personally. Instead of a hundred percent, it now became something close to seventy percent—give or take.

That thirty percent may seem like a small number, but it meant the world to her. She felt more detached and less in her head, which allowed some form of rationality to come back to her. So, even if she grew envious of Ron, she was also thankful to him—not that she would ever admit it—for him to start the trend of her dust-turning ritual. Whenever the thought of Ron and what he did crossed her mind, she laughed instead of feeling irritated.

Mentally muting people when they're yelling at you makes it impossible not to laugh. The way their face turned red, the tiny spit flecks coming out of their mouth, the animalistic facial expressions, and the aggressive hand gestures were hilarious. Plus, it blocked additional trauma from attaching their claws to her fragile being. She flipped the switch by turning something traumatizing into free entertainment. She had the power when her opponents thought that they had it. That's good. Let them think like that.

It's easier to deal with fools than the smart ones.

This week her only goal was to induce little jolts of anger in people to strengthen her muting tactic when they reacted.

At breakfast, she tasked herself with finding her first victim. She inspected her surroundings, excluding Gryffindor from the list. Her plan was first to act friendly and seduce them. Then when she felt that they trusted her, she would strike. If she wanted a real challenge, then Slytherin was her best bet. But who was the question? The only eligible girls she saw, except Pansy, were Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis. But she honestly didn't want to be involved with those bitches. So she opted for some guys to mess with.

At the far end of the table, someone caught her eye. Miles Bletchley, she remembered having a brief conversation with him in class in her fourth year. He wasn't very talkative, from what she remembered. He was the type of guy that only answered your questions and never asked you anything in return. She always hated people like that. She always thought that even if the person asking questions didn't interest you at all, you could still ask a few questions out of politeness. Was it their parents who did not teach them manners, or did they not listen when they did? She couldn't know.

None of that mattered because it was time for action.

She didn't care to wait until the end of the day and straight up walked up to him. She saw Theo's eyes linger on her as she walked from her peripheral vision.

She plopped down next to her victim, "Miles, right?" she said with a lazy tone.

The Slytherin blinked a couple of times, looking confused, "Yeah.."

She didn't think introducing herself was necessary unless he lived under a rock, but she still did it for the fun of it, "I'm Hermione Granger."

He gave an awkward laugh, "I know," moving a dark strand of hair away with a swipe of his fingers.

She remained silent, forcing him to break the silence if he didn't want the awkwardness of the situation to escalate.

He took a sip of his coffee, and gave her an anxious glance, "So, what brings you here, Hermione Granger," he said her name in a mocking tone.

She glanced ahead and caught Theo and Malfoy watching her attentively from a couple of tables afar. When they saw her look, they immediately looked to the side, like two kids getting caught in an attempt to do something mischievous. Men—boys were so obvious sometimes. She laughed internally, then focused back on her victim, "How about we go on a little adventure?" she proposed extending her hand out.

"What?"

"You heard me," she said in a playful tone, grabbing his coffee cup and taking a sip. She made a sour face. It was too cold for her liking, almost like iced coffee.

"You don't like coffee?"

"No, I do. Your version of coffee is just horrible," she admitted with a straight face.

"You don't say," he looked a bit surprised at her bold forward statement, which indicated that her first test trials had begun.

"I've never met a guy as tasteless as you," she insisted, her spirit laughing like a little child, her expression cold as ever.

"Okay," he responded, with a touch of frustration in his voice. Yes! Hermione, come on, make him angry. Think. Be spontaneous.

She grabbed him by the shoulder, "You're coming with me now," he allowed her to drag him outside the Great Hall. All eyes were on them, but she couldn't care less.

"What are you doing?" his voice was disoriented. She didn't say anything until they entered a classroom nearby. She cast a muffliato and locked the door with the flick of her wand.

"I'm so con—" she pushed him against a wall with both palms on his chest.

"I can't believe you did this to me!" she exclaimed.

"What are you on about?" He tried to keep his voice calm, but she could sense the anger creeping into him.

She held him by the tie and pulled him closer to her, "Tell me why you did it!" she said through gritted teeth.

"I didn't do anything," the temper of his voice was escalating, but he still wouldn't let go. Of course, she would find the type of guy with a respectable amount of self-control.

"Stop lying!" she smacked him across the face. Hard.

His eyes bulged in shock, "What the fuck is wrong with you!" He pushed her away from him.

Ladies and gentlemen, we got him.

She flipped the switch and no longer heard what he was saying. She only saw those animalistic features that made him look like a clown.

"Stop yelling at me!" she tried to pin the fault on him, to provoke him even more, which worked. His nostrils started to flare up, and his face turned Gryffindor red.

She closed the distance between them, pulled him by the collar oh his shirt with an aggressive motion, and pressed her lips against his. His lips were rigid against hers, pushing her shoulders back. She held his elbow, not allowing them to separate, and pressed her tongue against his. His hands showed resistance by trying to push her away, but his tongue did the opposite, and he let her consume him slowly. His hands fell back and dragged themselves to her waist, pulling her into him. He lifted her by gripping her thighs from underneath and dropped her on the nearest table. Her hands were now on the back of his head, her fingers forcefully gripping his hair. His hands moved their way underneath her shirt, and just before he reached her breasts, she pulled her lips away, and moved her foot in front of his chest, pushing him back slowly. His face was resentful, but his eyes screamed pleasure. She smirked, wiped her bottom lip with a trace of her thumb, and left the room, leaving him stunned.

Well, that was fun, she thought.

A handful of students stood behind the door and acted as if they weren't when she stepped out of the room. There should be a class for Discreteness since, apparently, many didn't know how to imply it.

Malfoy stood alone right outside the Great Hall, with one foot backed up against the wall, watching her like a hawk. She briefly gazed in his direction and walked to class with a stupid smile, which she couldn't seem to shake.

She honestly didn't know what had happened or who she was at this moment. But she didn't regret any second of it. She felt thrilled.

All her classes before lunch were pretty mundane and boring since she already knew all the material. On her way to lunch, Theo called her from behind, asking her if she wanted to join him for another smoke session.

"Yeah, sure," she replied, and they made their way to the spot from last week.

"What was that at breakfast," he chuckled, "Didn't know you were friends with Miles."

Before she could respond, she saw Harry and Ron sitting on a bench near the smoking spot. Ron gave her a menacing stare, and Harry shot her a discreet wave with a momentary smile crossing his lips.

Fuck, she thought.

Harry knew, of course. Ron had probably told everyone already. She had to let McGonnagal know immediately, but it would look suspicious if she just made an excuse to leave now. The only excuses she knew were having to go to the library, having to finish an assignment, or speaking to a teacher. But Theo wouldn't buy any of them since he knew that her studious nature was at pause for the moment, so she would go right before her lunch break ended.

"Haven't seen you around lately," Theo expressed, looking at Harry. Ron looked at the new arrivals with a fierce look and left without saying a word, not even at Harry. How was he the one that was mad when it was all his fault? How oblivious he was, was truly unbelievable.

"Yeah, I've been busy with quidditch practice," he said with a short laugh. She and Theo gave each other a knowing look since they both despised the sport, "I found a churro place in Hogsmeade," he added, tucking his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.

"No way!" Theo exclaimed, taking a seat next to him, "In Hogsmeade?"

"Yeah, I was surprised too. They have a churro stand outside Honeydukes. Apparently, the owner employed a muggleborn who prepared some for him. He loved it and made it a new addition to the store…."

Hermione got distracted from some smoke coming out near their smoking spot. She couldn't see who it was because of the column blocking them. Maybe she was mistaken, and this was the common smoking area for all students.

The pair in front of her looked deep in conversation, so she figured they wouldn't even notice her disappearance and checked to see the mystery smoker.

The mysterious effect vanished when she saw his ever-so-platinum blonde hair. His back was turned against her, so she cleared her throat to get his attention.

Instead of turning to look at her, he grabbed a cigarette case from his pocket and neatly placed it on the railing. She wondered if he actually knew it was her or if he really didn't care who it was, even if it was a professor. She walked next to him, removed a cigarette from the already half-empty case, and slid it between her lips. He turned around and placed his hand below her cheek with the tip of his fingers touching the side of her mouth—making her gasp from how cold his touch felt against her warm skin—to cover the wind while he lit her cigarette with his wand.

He put the case back in his pocket and resumed smoking. She still didn't like the smell, but there was something calming about smoking in silence while feeling the light breeze stream past her. She hated how much she enjoyed the serenity she felt at that moment and how his presence didn't seem to bother her at all. Somehow, despite all her hate for him, all the irritation and uneasiness had seemed to flee after that day by the lake.

"That's a drastic change, you know," he said, tapping the ash from his cigarette.

"What?" she shot him a quizzical look.

"From sloppy gingers to dark-haired." He inhaled and let the smoke slowly trickle from his mouth.

The words sloppy ginger had infuriated her once, but now it meant nothing. I gave the same effect as if he had said black umbrella. Nothing special, "What's your point?" She wondered why he would bring it up. She figured it was his own indirect way of mocking her.

"Nothing. It's just an observation," he dismissed, bringing the cigarette back to his lips.

"So you admit to observing me?" She mirrored his movement by fastening the cigarette between her lips. She didn't know why she even asked. If he looked, he looked. It didn't matter to her. She wished her therapy partner had secretly observed her without knowing that she was his therapy partner. It would be funny, but she would never know.

"Would you prefer I didn't?" It was a strategic escape from her question on his part. She had to give him that. If he didn't answer her questions, she didn't have to answer his. So she pressed the butt of the cigarette on the railing and left.

It was her second dramatic and suspenseful exit of the day. Should she opt for a third? It would only be appropriate.

The pair on the bench was still animatedly conversing about who knows what, so she left the boys be. Honestly, she thought Theo was the best thing that happened to Harry this school year—she definitely shouldn't tell Ginny that.

She went to lunch, and none of the food seemed to pique her interest, so she skipped and headed straight to the headmistress's office.

Her door was open for some reason, but she still knocked before entering.

"Perfect timing Miss. Granger, I was just about to come find you."

"Is there news?" she asked, sitting across from the witch.

"Yes," she answered with a frown, "I asked Mr. Ollivander to get in touch in the case of a student purchasing a wand from him, and the ministry just notified me that there hasn't been any suspicious activity performed during that time. Are you sure that you might not have been mistaken about the timeframe?"

She thought about it for a bit. Then, she remembered glancing at her clock before heading out of her dorm. It was precisely six forty-eight in the evening, "Yes, I'm sure."

Malfoy had also told her that it happened while he was collecting rocks around the lake, so they couldn't have captured him before, "Yeah, I'm positive," she repeated.

"It's bizarre," she noted, "Are you certain that they even performed a spell?"

"Yes, they were levitating his body when I saw them."

"Why didn't you stun them right away?" Well, Fuck. It was the end of the road of her protection over Ron's actions, and after that murderous glare he shot her today, she had no choice but, to tell the truth.

The witch looked horrified after she told her everything, "This doesn't sound like something Mr. Weasley would do."

"Trust me, headmistress, I still can't believe it myself, and it's actually why I stopped by here today as well. Ron told Harry; I don't know who else he might have told. I don't think Ginny knows because she would've come to see me right away. So my best bet is that only Harry knows, and maybe Miss. Parkinson."

"Miss. Parkinson?" the witch furrowed her brows.

"Yes," Hermione twiddled with her fingers in distaste, "Her and Ron are—involved," it felt weird to say out loud.

"Oh," she sat back and lifted her eyebrows in surprise.

"Yeah… It's been sometime now," Hermione added.

"Have you warned Mr. Malfoy?"

"Yes, right after you told me," she answered, remembering Theo's comment about how indiscreet they were when passing notes to each other.

"Good. I will have a talk with Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter."

"Are you going to expel him?" she asked. She didn't think she would go that far with him, considering everything he did for the wizarding world, but she knew she would set out a harsh punishment.

"I cannot disclose that information to you, Miss. Granger. I appreciate your help," she said in a tone indicating finality. Hermione got the memo, thanked her, and left.

Well, it was her first failed dramatic exit of the day, but she wasn't going to give up yet. She still had eleven hours before the end of the day.

Her last class was Defense Against the Dark Arts, and she sat at her usual spot next to Neville. They engaged in some small talk, and he told her how he secretly found the plant incident with Pansy hilarious and laughed about it from time to time. Suddenly, a cartoonesque light bulb struck her, and she had a fantastic idea. She would bring the plant to her next therapy session to pick up on his moods. Even if he didn't talk much, she could maybe tell if he liked her or not or at least secretly enjoyed her company.

She felt like a genius and tried to suppress her excitement. She knew she was definitely not going to get any sleep tonight from wondering what would happen. They fell silent when Marchbanks commenced the lecture. Five minutes in, she could see Theo looking bored out of his mind. She snickered at the face he made when listening to the professor. Malfoy looked equally uninterested next to him, his eyes cast to the ceiling, with his arms folded across his chest.

She caught Miles watching her from the far left—it was the first time she acknowledged his presence in this class since the beginning of the year—he shot her a seductive wink.

Fuck.

He got the wrong impression.

It made sense why, but her mission with him was done.

She ignored him and reverted her gaze back to her favorite Slytherin, Theo. He met her gaze and rolled his eyes, pointing at the board.

I'm dying, he mouthed.

"Is there something you'd like to share, Mr. Nott?" Marchbanks blurted out of nowhere. Hermione laughed out loud and quickly covered her mouth, feeling embarrassed.

"And you, Miss Granger?" her high-pitched voice pierced her ears.

"I'm bored," Theo yawned, making the whole class erupt into laughter. She even saw Malfoy laugh. Him laughing was the equivalent of a total eclipse occurring—both extremely rare.

"Out," her tone was bitter; she tilted her head towards her as well, "You too Miss Granger," Hermione looked surprised. Everyone laughed, too; why her? She didn't question it out loud, but it wasn't fair.

"You've just done me a favor, thanks," Hermione expressed in a proud tone. She could physically see everyone's jaw drop. If she was forced to exit, she better make it dramatic to complete her goal for the day. Malfoy seemed impressed by her comment, smirking at her. Theo swung his arm around her shoulder, "That's my girl," she let out a chuckle, and everyone's eyes lingered on them as they both stepped out of the room.

A/N: Three updates this week to make up for my one month disappearance haha.

What do you think of Hermione's behavior?

Have a lovely weekend, my loves xx