Disclaimer: All mentioned characters and settings are owned by JK Rowling and publishers who partook in the HP series. No money is being profited from this story nor do I claim anything as my own; no copyright law is being broken.
Neville watched as Hermione hastily propped herself on the chair next to his and began mindlessly prodding her lunch with the tip of her fork, biting her bottom lip as her eyebrows furrowed together. He grinned to himself before inquiring casually with an undertone of mockery to his question, "How were morning lessons, Professor?"
"Honestly Neville, it was terrible," she frowned. "I could barely get through the lesson without them questioning about Harry, Ron, or myself."
A smile pulled the aforementioned man's lips upwards at her exasperation and he laughed lowly. "Don't worry, the hype will die down eventually."
"I can imagine they gave the same reaction when you started teaching?" she arched an eyebrow and he humbled his face, receiving her eyebrow rising higher. "Oh, don't be modest, Neville. You're just as well known as Ron and I are. I'd say Harry too, but his fame is infinite, really. I don't think anyone else's could compare besides Voldemort's. But there's a share of rumors and facts of you floating around the Wizarding world too."
Neville laughed again. "Not as bad as you three, especially when you're put together. But I did get a fair share of remarks and questions thrown my way when I began to teach Herbology."
"Where do they get their information?" questioned Hermione, flustered as she shook her head while he took a long sip of his pumpkin juice. "For Merlin's sake, they knew about Victor Krum and myself which happened ages ago!" She sighed to herself before continuing, "Then the rumors spiraled into complete fiction. Really, I 'ran off with Victor after the Tri Wizard Tournament ended and lived with him until the end of summer until Ron flew a dragon over to Germany and whisked me off back to Hogwarts where I ungraciously failed to thank him and his gallant efforts and therefore forced him into striking up a false relationship with Lavender White – because getting her last name correct would be horrid to the story and everything – to make me realize that I loved him…' did I? Well, I'd definitely fancy myself a summer like that."
"Hermione, I need yer help," interrupted a man before Neville could comment. Neville and Hermione glanced over their shoulders to find Hagrid smiling hopefully at her. The brunette glanced at her friend before quietly excusing herself and followed the large man to the corner of the Great Hall, who paused to drop his head low as he murmured quietly to her, "No need ter be alarm'd or an'thing. But I need yer help with Hogwarts' thestrals."
"Thestrals?" she repeated, blinking.
Hagrid nodded his head briskly. "Yeah, they like compan' yeh see. It'd be great if yeh could visit them durin' one o' yer breaks…"
--
Hermione inhaled a steady breath, the opposing sensation in her stomach growing as she began to head toward the Forbidden Forest like she had so many years ago. Truthfully, she knew she now possessed the ability to see the death horses and that acknowledgment only seemed to draw painful memories she attempted to cage in the back of her mind. When she was a few good yards away from the dark area weaved together by shadows and trees she managed to catch sight of something quite out of place.
Theodore Nott was also walking toward the entrance of the forest.
She parroted his steps, feeling fear and suspicion increase and rise in her chest as she realized they both were separately heading toward the same destination; the only difference between their walk was that she had a reason to be traveling to the darker bounds of Hogwarts while he had not. It was then, whilst her thoughts, had she miss-stepped and placed her right foot on a feeble branch, snapping it in half when she applied pressure. Theodore's neck snapped directly to where she was standing and she knew she was caught; drawing her wand without hesitation.
A smirk stretched across his lips at her instinctive action and he twisted his body around to face her. "Stalking me, are you Hermione? Rather uncharacteristic of you, isn't it?" She faltered at the mention of her first name rolling smoothly off his foreign tongue and she lowered her wand slightly, gazing at him through perplexed eyes. Her confusion only seemed to fuel the mockery in his smirk and he hissed, "What? I personally don't believe you should soil yourself with Weasley's name taking what he failed to accomplish into account. Unless, that is, you married one of his older brothers?"
"What are you doing down here, Nott?" she asked lowly, ignoring his latter question, shadowing her abashment with her incertitude of his intentions.
"Same reason why you're here," he answered nonchalantly, his dark robes eloquently trailing behind him as he swiftly neared her; providing her with little time to react. Suddenly the tip of her wand jabbed him in the chest and she realized she had forgot to lower her erect arm upon his approach, though, her slow response to his advances had worked in her favor and managed to create a sufficient gap between them. He nodded off to the side of them and she heard a quieted shrill escape a dark creature observing them from feet away.
It was a thestral and she squinted in confusion. Hagrid asked him to help with the thestrals?
Theodore had seemed to read her thoughts fairly transparent through her large brown eyes and his smirk grew bitter. "Surprised I can see death as well?"
Hermione then withdrew her arm and tucked her wand in her coat's pocket, meanwhile lacking an answer.
"Well, would it surprise you more if I were to say that I could see thestrals the same time Potter could?" He immediately gained her attention and she appeared instantly alert at his vague words. "You don't remember when Rubeus introduced us to them? Didn't I raise my hand along Potter's when he questioned who could see thestrals?"
"I tried not to stray my attention to Slytherins," she muttered coldly.
"I see you're still at it," he countered, his tone equally as removed.
"Well do forgive me that I failed at brushing off your terrible references of me you fancied to use on a regular basis," she snapped sharply in response. "Was it really that funny that I'm a muggleborn and outperformed your entire House?" Theodore's smirk faded slightly. "Surely it had to be, right? What else would possess you and Malfoy to snicker and laugh at me when Slughorn questioned my blood background?"
Theodore's mood seemed to have darkened. "We were amused for our separate reasons," he assured.
"Really now?" she cocked an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Was Malfoy laughing at me because I was a mudblood and were you laughing at me because your father –"
"Thestrals," he interrupted suddenly; sharply. "Well, aren't you special, Hermione? You can see them now, can't you?"
"Never mind what I can see, Nott," she glared, "Why would Hagrid ask you in particular to see the thestrals?"
"Obviously he had requested for my assistance before you ever arrived," he grinned corruptly. "But if you insist on knowing, despite what the rest of my House thought of the Care of Magical Creatures class, I was actually quite interested in it. Although, I was admittedly a little disgusted with Rubeus's teaching methods when I was younger, I adapted to them gradually. Partially because I wanted to excel and also because everyone else appeared to have loathed his class, including Potter, Weasley, and you. In fact, I recall you never returned for your sixth year."
"The class's credit wasn't necessary for our careers, actually," defended Hermione. "And even if your story is charming, Nott, I suspect your intentions otherwise."
"That's rather an act of bigotry, Hermione–"
"Stop addressing me by that."
He paused, flicking his fringe out of his eyes. "And what? Expect me to call you by Weasley? Don't assume I've gained any respect or whatnot for you; to me you're still irritating and pathetically ignorant. But, like I said earlier, his name tarnishes your reputation. He never achieved anything great, did he? Only went on the ride with you and Potter. And besides, Hermione's your name, isn't it? Deprived from Shakespeare's The Winter's Tale."
Hermione's jaw slackened at the mention of the acclaimed book and surprise struck her particularly hard. "You read a muggle book?"
Theodore looked mildly amused by her reaction. "Actually, it was used to hold doors open in my house. When I was fifteen I decided to skim through it to see for myself if it was as worthless as my family claimed it as."
"And?"
"Well, the execution of the entire play was rather messy. Isn't Shakespeare deemed as one of the greatest muggle writers?"
She frowned, however, hadn't expected his answer to implicate any type of praise for a muggle's work. Her calculating eyes then traveled from his face to his hands gripping a bag filled with, presumably, raw meat for the thestrals and a tattered book. Able to catch a glimpse of its title her stare faltered and she blurted before containing herself, "you're reading Les Misérables?" Her expression hardened while his wavered. "Or are you just throwing it away? I understand the Forbidden Forest is rarely visited, however, should not by any means be used as a dumping ground for what you consider garbage."
"Now when did I ever say Les Misérables was garbage?" he questioned. "Now The Winter's Tale maybe."
"You do know Les Misérables is written by a muggle." she prodded.
He shrugged. "Nothing can be perfect, Hermione. Anyway, I suppose I'll visit the thestrals today; you can tomorrow seeing as you're giving off a rather strong impression you'd prefer to stay far away from me." She didn't respond to his suggestion which only confirmed his thoughts further. "Right," he then sneered, "see you at dinner, that is, if you decide to look at me."
For no apparent reason Hermione felt anger boil inside her veins as Theodore turned and began to walk away. He really hadn't done anything to belittle her nor taunt her either; in fact, even called her respectably by her first name. Still livid thoughts had sprang to the forefront of her brain and, although she tried to wrench them from herself, they remained planted securely in her mind; heating the fury spiraling within her body. Maybe his disregard affected her so severely because she half-expected him to slip into his endowed Slytherin ways but that was admittedly in the past. But was it really necessary to engage in a semi-formal conversation with him?
Shaking her head, she sighed and watched her visible white breath lose itself to the rigid surrounding air.
For the most part, she hated herself for being so irrationally prejudice to him but how could she not? After all, his father had tried to kill her along with her friends. And like a majority of the Slytherins, she presumed Theodore had taken the same path as his relatives.
With that thought in mind, she then promptly shook her head again and pivoted around, heading back to the castle without glancing back.
Theodore smirked. He was already getting to her.
-Okay, so I sorta lied. Well, not entirely. I mean, I did give a brief idea of what Theodore thinks of Ron but I really don't think I justified it enough. Guhhh. I had to rewrite this chapter about a billion times and I'm still not completely satisfied with it.
I'm not entirely sure how I picture Theodore as a whole. Looks wise, I just know Harry described him as weedy, though, Harry also isn't really forgiving when he characterizes Slytherins. I'm sure he picks at their flaws rather than take their entire appearance into consideration. So, really, I don't know what Theodore looks like, but I'd recommend you browse through deviantart or something and picture him whichever way you want. But, to me, he is a brunet. Definitely not a blond because then, to me, he'd be somewhat of a replica of Draco.
Also, although my school started up this week, my updates most likely won't fluctuate the slightest because, well, let's be honest, I suck at updating to begin with. Anyway, I posted a Theodore-centric story so you should totally check it out 'cause, um, I love self-pimping myself. Other than that, if you're able to vote, pay attention to the conventions and the running candidates! It's been eight years guys, let's make a right choice! (Or, you know, wait until Ron Paul decides to run again…) :D