Chapter 3
Hermione Goes to War
By the time lunch rolled around, only half the school knew about Hermione's new nickname. Granted, if it weren't so blasted accurate and funny, it probably would have died quickly but since the cold hard reality was that almost everyone who heard it found it hilarious enough to use, by the time dinner rolled around, the entire school knew about Hermione's nickname. The poor girl had just about had enough.
Head Girl or not, with the entire student body in consensus that her name shouldn't be Hermione Granger but rather 'Party Foul,' there was nothing she could do. She couldn't bloody well go about deducting House points from everyone who called her that or hand out detentions left and right. That would be a definite abuse of her authority. As it was, the Slytherins were now out for her blood after all the points she had deducted from them earlier on in the Library on account of Malfoy. They would occasionally shoot her the most acidic, murderous glares from their table throughout the meal.
When she walked into the Great Hall for dinner that evening, everyone's eyes seemed to be on her. It made her feel extremely uncomfortable and self-conscious. Of course, she didn't need to contemplate her situation long before it would obnoxiously occur to her just why she was in this situation. The source of her recent troubles was sitting just several seats down from she, Ginny, Parvati, and Lavendar.
Harry was just sitting there, tucking in to his dinner as if he could do no wrong. He had even had the nerve to wave her over to he and Ron (whom she still refused to talk to) when she had come in to eat. Hermione, in turn, had merely turned her nose up to him and sat down with her girl friends. She would deal with Harry later. She started to pile a few stalks of asparagus and a generous helping of mashed potatoes onto her plate.
Ginny, Parvati, and Lavendar, on the other hand, were slightly disturbed by Hermione. The way she aggressively speared her asparagus over and over and over again was cause for concern, although – if they were honest with themselves – neither of the girls (not even Ginny) had the courage to ask her what was wrong. No. There were three sacred, unspoken rules in Gryffindor House.
Rule One: Never, ever, - ever – compromise for Slytherin.
Rule Two: Never try to win Brownie points with McGonagall by calling her hot (they had learned that the hard way from Cormac McLaggen's ill-fated crusade to charm himself into the Professor's good graces last year).
And at last, Rule Three: Never, under any circumstances, ever ask Hermione Granger what's the matter when something clearly is the matter.
They had witnessed firsthand what could happen to the poor soul who ever did so this morning when the Gryffindor Head Girl bestowed the fine slap tradition on Ron, like Malfoy before him. Although they were relatively certain Hermione wouldn't slap any of them, there was never knowing what could happen if you broke that sacred rule.
Hermione would occasionally glance in Harry's direction and glower when they made eye contact so much that the green-eyed boy was now determinedly focusing on either Ron, Dean and Seamus or his dinner. Good, be afraid, Harry Potter. You should be very afraid when I get my hands on you.
She wasn't about to confront him in the Great Hall. The last thing she needed was another repeat of what she had done to Ron that morning (Which was totally justifiable all the same!). No, she had planned everything out. She knew Harry usually headed off to the Dorms alone after dinner, since Ron, never one to let food go so easily, was determined to stay until the bloody end of the meal, so Hermione would blindside him then. And when she had him alone, Merlin have mercy on his soul!
She must not have noticed the girl's plaintively uncomfortable looks as she speared a fork through the same stalk of asparagus for the eightieth time that night. It was Ginny who decided to break the tense silence between them first.
'So, I hear Davies finally plucked up the courage and asked Estella Salvia to Hogsmeade this weekend.' The redheaded girl supplied that latest slab of exclusive gossip as if it were supposed to be interesting to Hermione. It did serve to break her out of her dangerous brood, though.
Roger Davies was the Head Boy and Captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. He was also the secret fantasy of just about every girl at Hogwarts with his compelling intelligence and dashing good looks. Hermione didn't see the appeal herself to be honest. She had always been weary of Davies and his womanizing ways. As for his intelligence, she had to give it to him that he did have the second highest scores in the school, otherwise he wouldn't have made Head Boy, but whether or not he actually put that intelligence to use was another thing entirely. His conversational choices rarely left the sphere of Quidditch.
Estella Salvia was considered one of the most beautiful and glamorous girls in the school. She was in Ravenclaw as well and in her sixth year. Unlike the rest of her studious housemates, however, no one could figure out exactly how a girl like Salvia could have ended up in Ravenclaw. She was the anti-thesis of what that House stood for. Instead of being over achieving – like Davies and the rest of Ravenclaw – Salvia was more concerned with her looks than her grades. That wasn't to say she was failing. She passed her classes with mere, slightly-above-average grades but nothing truly remarkable. Her beauty aside, she had all of the girl next door charm.
Lavendar and Parvati eagerly absorbed this information and squealed with delight.
'Oooh! I so called it didn't I 'Vati! Those two are such a cute couple!' Lavendar gushed. Parvati nodded vigorously.
'I hear he's been waiting to ask her for weeks.' The Indian girl then leaned forward, intoning in a hushed, exclusive tone. 'I've also heard he's going to ask her to the Ball. Isn't that fantastic?'
'Hermione, you're Head Girl. Don't you think it's brilliant?' Lavendar asked her. The way she was energetically shifting on the bench made Hermione vaguely wonder if Lavendar was far too big a fan of caffeinated beverages than was for her own good. The bushy-haired Gryffindor merely shrugged with disinterest.
'Honestly, I just can't see why everyone makes such a big fuss about Davies. I mean, he's nothing special.' The witch pointed out plainly.
Lavendar looked positively scandalized. 'How on earth can you say that? Roger Davies is by far the most fit guy in the school! And he's absolutely charming!'
'He's about as charming as a Hippogriff, Lav,' She replied dryly. Lavendar gasped and Hermione rolled her eyes. 'I've spent more time with Davies this year with Head duties than I would ever want to, and honestly, his supposed charm is just him spouting such cheesy lines that it sounds like he stole them from some horrible, muggle romance book.'
'Like?' Parvati challenged.
Ginny was the only one at the table who was smirking now, aware of what was to come. Not many people knew that one of Hermione Granger's hidden talents – along with biting sarcasm and dry wit – was that she was also rather good at impersonations. This was going to be a right laugh.
She cleared her throat and went right in to the best impersonation of Roger Davies at his most corny that she could muster.
'Excuse me, Granger, but I have a question. How do you like your eggs?' Were it not for the obvious feminine tone, all four of the girl had to admit that it was s spot-on impersonation of Roger Davies. The ego, the machoism, the subtle tossing of the hair and the direct, straight-to-you eye contact – it was all there and so, totally the Roger Davies everyone knew and loved (or hated, as was the case with most of the boys).
All the girls busted in to a round of giggles, including Hermione.
'Good God, Hermione,' Lavendar stammered through a keen bout of laughter, 'I never knew you did such a good Roger Davies!'
'I didn't know you did impressions period!' Parvati chuckled.
'Hermione has hidden depths,' Ginny intoned knowingly. She had a wise look in her eyes as she leaned in conspirtoraly with the three others girls and, deciding that she's risk breaking the sacred third rule of Gryffindor House, cut right to the quick. 'Now, Hermione, what's up?'
Lavendar and Parvati gasped in shock at Ginny's blatant violation of the Unspoken Covenant and Hermione was no longer smiling. The brunette's expression froze stoically into place and she turned back to her dinner, trying her best to come off nonchalant.
'I have no idea what you're talking about.'
'Oh come off it, Hermione!' Ginny hissed quietly enough so that only the three of them could hear. 'I think everyone knows about that stupid little nickname Draco Malfoy spread around the school but we both know that's not what's got your wand in a knot. So out with it.'
'There's nothing wrong.' Hermione answered, her eyes narrowing into a glare. When Ginny met her defiance with an equally defiant glare of her own, the brunette finally caved. She had always been rubbish at keeping secrets from Ginny Weasley anyway. 'Ok fine! If you must know, I'll give you two easy words: Harry Potter.'
Lavendar and Parvati, for the second time that evening, added to the obnoxious female stereotype by gasping dramatically, as if the mere mention of Harry in a way that was less than flattering horribly scandalized them. Hermione, knowing their talent for gossip, gave them both a very severe look.
'You two can't say anything about this to anyone!' She hissed at the two gossips.
Lavendar and Parvati desperately assured her that they would do nothing of the sort.
A part of Hermione wasn't quite as confident about their self-proclaimed dedication to keeping this a secret and she knew that, with Lav and Parvati around – Hogwart's resident big-mouths – her secret would only be safe with nothing short of an unbreakable vow. For a brief moment, she even gave it some serious consideration but then, shaking her head just slightly, knew she was just being paranoid. Maybe trusting them with an actual secret will activate some dormant part of their minds that can keep one. Besides, she didn't so much fancy keeping this to herself anymore. By the state of the thoroughly shredded and speared asparagus on her plate, the stress of dealing with Harry's apparent slight alone was driving her quite mad.
'Alright here goes… Yes, I know Draco Malfoy is the one who circulated the rumour but I also know that Harry is the reason this whole 'Party Foul' rubbish has gotten so out of hand.'
The other three girls looked astonished, hanging off her every word.
'How do you know that?' Ginny asked. Having always been protective of Harry due to her worship of the boy who rescued her from the Chamber of Secrets in her First year, the youngest Weasley was always loath to accept anything bad about him without some sort of evidence.
Hermione took a deep breath and continued. 'I know, Ginny, because Draco Malfoy told me that's who he heard it from.'
'Draco Malfoy?' Lavendar piped loudly enough to turn some heads their way. All three girls vehemently shushed and, shooting off a weak apology, Lavendar lowered her voice. 'Sorry, but since when do you talk to Draco Malfoy?'
'He was harassing me in the Library this morning during my free period (which, unfortunately, seems to be his too) and he couldn't wait to brag about what he had just learned. Honestly, you couldn't wipe the smug off his face with an Unforgivable!'
'Erm, Hermione,' Ginny started rather skeptically, 'how do you know Malfoy isn't just making this all up to have a go at you? It wouldn't be the first time.'
Hermione shook her head sadly. 'I know what you mean, Gin and I actually considered that possibility first. Then I remembered last night and how that all ended.'
Realization dawned on both girls as they remembered a drunken Ron Weasley, flanked by an even more inebreiated Harry laid out on the sofa, laughing incessantly at the Common Room wide chant of, 'Granger is a buzz-kill!' Suddenly, it started to come together but even that wasn't quite enough for Ginerva Weasley, who still persisted on finding Harry's innocence in the matter.
'Yea I know what you're talking about. But that wasn't Harry who said that, Hermione. It was my git brother and Finnigan.'
'Yea, but Harry went right along with them,' Hermione snapped. 'And in case you don't remember, he was perfectly happy to call me a stick in the mud last week in front of all the Quidditch lads, mind you, when I stopped him from getting totally blitzed on a school night when they wanted to celebrate the first Hogsmeade weekend.'
Ginny, being there herself when said events took place, really couldn't argue with Hermione there. Although she wasn't entirely convinced that Harry was the absolute villain in this scenario, she did have to concede that her bushy-haired friend did have a point. Rather than pushing the matter further along, Ginny just let it go. Parvati and Lavendar both looked as if they could ask more questions but Ginny sent them both a look that clearly told them to let it go.
Hermione, feeling relieved, as if she had taken a weight off her chest, felt the knot of anger that once churned and threatened to boil over into total rage loosen. She could even feel her anger at Harry subsiding. But definitely not so much that she was willing to forgive him unconditionally just yet! No, she would still confront Harry and if he gave her his typically bunk answers he only used when he was lying to her, she would certainly know and would make his life a living hell until he was completely honest with her. Because that was the way Hermione Granger worked – she was absolutely and unequivocally frank.
A quick glance down the row and she saw that the boy in question was already getting up from his seat and, by the looks of it, ready to begin his traditional, lonely trip back to Gryffindor Tower. Hermione waited for him to get to the doors before she stood up and excused herself. She quickly assured Parvati and Lavendar that she'd see them in their Dorm and Ginny, that she would probably see her in the Common Room later. Slinging her back pack over her shoulder, she rushed out the door and quickly moved to head Harry off on the second floor.
She knew he couldn't be too far along. Although Harry's height gave him a considerably longer stride than Hermione, she knew that he preferred to take his evening walks more slowly, just absorbing the rare peace and quiet of the castle, perhaps stopping to speak to a portrait or two. Like her life depended on it, she jogged up the steps and sure enough, Harry was just a few paces away from rounding the corner on the far side of the corridor when he heard footsteps and noticed Hermione rushing up to meet him. He stopped and waited for her.
When he saw her coming bounding down the hall after him, Harry couldn't help but curse inwardly at his recent bout of luck. He hadn't anticipated confronting Hermione about everything tonight. Yes, he knew that he'd get around to it soon enough, but did it have to be tonight? He cursed the gods of magic, who seemed to have made this day solely for taking the piss out of him. First he had to deal with Ron and Hermione's brief row in the Great Hall at breakfast, then he confronted the realization that Hermione might never speak to him again after his stupid, backhanded comment had gone viral and then, to top it all off, Snape and bloody double potions had assigned a huge, effing essay on the Draught of Living Death! And now, he was standing face to face with Hermione, having to come up on the spot with an apology that would more than likely be rubbish and just make matters worse, as his mouth seemed to be getting him into a whole new realm of trouble. I swear on my magic, I'll never speak again after today…
'Look, Hermione, I'm-'
'Harry we need to-'
Having realized that they both cut each other off, there was now another awkward silence between them. It was Harry who broke it.
'Please, let me go first, Hermione.' Harry spoke wearily. 'See, I know that you think the person who's spreading all that Party Foul rubbish is me but I swear it's not! It's Malfoy!'
Obviously anticipating an apology instead of a full-out defence from Harry, Hermione's nostrils flared in that particular Hermione way that said, 'I'll give you another chance to dig yourself out of this massive hole you've idiotically dug yourself, but if you get it wrong again you're dead.'
Harry gulped at the threat he could clearly see in her passionate, dark brown eyes and had to summon up all of his Gryffindor courage to continue. Think fast, Potter, or you'll lose your chance. Think you buggering dolt! Think!
'Look, what I'm trying to say is yea! I know I've been a total prat today and I know that you have every right to be mad at me because the truth is that if I hadn't called you a Party Foul first, Malfoy wouldn't have overheard me and taken off around the school with it… But you've got to forgive me, 'Mione! I know you're also mad about the party last night and I'll admit that I was drunk and being a total git at the time but please, just please stop ignoring me and Ron. This is our final year! We're supposed to be best mates, all three of us! Can we please just put it behind us and tell them all to go bugger off like we usually do?'
Somehow managing to get that out with exactly two breaths, Harry now looked at her as if her were in agony as Hermione purposefully drew out her decision for a few moments.
Alright, that was honestly not what she had been expecting at all. Yea, she expected an apology from Harry but not only had she gotten one – which was amazing in itself but a true miracle from the gods of magic seemed to have occurred. She had received a true, heartfelt apology. Hermione suddenly felt bad about how she had practically stalked him down the Hall and approached him so militantly, she saw Harry visibly flinch in anticipation of a classic, verbal beat down.
Harry studied Hermione cautiously, fully anticipating a deserving, he grudgingly admitted, Ron-sized slap of his own when Hermione did the unthinkable. She launched herself at him, embracing him in a bone-crushing hug that certainly gave Mrs. Weasley a run for her money.
Harry, taken totally by surprise, still grinned and embraced her back enthusiastically. At long last, it seemed their twenty-four hour quarrel was coming to an end. Score one for Potter!
Pulling back, Harry was positively beaming as he looked down at her. 'Does this mean I'm forgiven?' He asked.
Hermione was tearing up. 'Oh Harry,' she sobbed, 'of course I forgive you! And Ron! I know you wouldn't do anything to purposely hurt me – I just have no idea what came over me! It's just stress, what with what happened in the Common Room last night. And homework. And Head Duties…' She rattled off the various obligations she had this year while Harry listened on, amused.
They could hear footsteps and echoing voices approaching which meant dinner must have let out already and everyone was heading back to their Common Rooms. Harry urged her forward by the elbow and they both walked back to Gryffindor Tower together.
'I get the picture, you're busy, 'Mione.' Harry chuckled just as Hermione was about to go over her long list of responsibilities for the Yule Ball this year (He still had no idea who he was going to ask!). 'So there was something I wanted to tell you. Promise me you won't get worked up?'
Hermione's eyes narrowed at that statement. 'Why?'
Harry immediately launched into the story of his afternoon and what he, Seamus, Dean and Ron had come to decide.
'Well, I was in the Common Room with Dean, Seamus and Ron today…' Careful to leave off the bit about cutting out of Advanced Charms, Harry proceeded to tell Hermione all about how he had got his first inkling that she might have been mad at him from Dean, and then how the four boys had unanimously decided that they were going to bring Draco Malfoy down.
It was easy, Harry assured her. Not only was Gryffindor going to ruin Slytherin's Quidditch season again, but they also had their eyes set on pranking Malfoy every time they saw him until the git finally sodded off, preferably to hell, Harry had said. When he was finished, they were at the Portrait entrance to Gryffindor Tower and Harry, muttering the password to let them both in, gauged Hermione's reaction as he walked into the Common Room alongside her. There were already a few people about so they chose the discreet route and took the two seats in the corner next to the tapestry.
'So what do you think?' Harry asked.
Hermione, although not upset, didn't look totally sold on the idea. There was hope though. Harry noted that she bit her lip nervously – a trait he knew meant that Hermione was still debating her decision but was seriously leaning toward the 'Yes,' side. To Harry, it was just as good as a yes and a huge grin began to stretch over his face.
'Well… I don't really know…' She started cautiously, but Harry would have none of it. He hadn't worked to convince her just so she could backpedal now. Granted, the boys didn't need her permission at all to bring Malfoy down. Without her on board, Harry knew their combined talents for mischief and taking the piss out of Malfoy was enough to make it a success; with Hermione on board though, they could bring it up a whole notch and chalk it off as a smashing success!
'Come on, Hermione,' he gave her his most charming smile, playfully kneading Hermione in the ribs with his elbow. 'You hate Malfoy just as much as the next sane peron. Admit it. You can't pass this opportunity up!'
'And just what is it that you think I'm going to do, Harry?' Hermione asked, feigning being cross with her raven-haired best friend.
'Absolutely nothing you don't want to do, Hermione.' Harry quickly attempted to mollify her, playfully raising his hands up defensively. 'The only thing I'm really asking is that we don't have the Head Girl or Boy breathing down our necks the whole time we're trying to pummel the Snakes.'
Harry was inwardly quite pleased with himself for broaching this last topic in particular so casually. This was the game breaker; the part that would say whether or not all their plans were going to be for naught. Harry was very well aware that bringing Hermione's authority into their plans had the potential to backfire. After all, he and Ron were both extremely aware of Hermione's hang up with justice and what exactly she felt about the vast number of Prefects whom she knew constantly protected their mates when they violated the rules. It was a Quaffle to pitch, but then again, Harry Potter was also Hermione's best friend. If that wasn't incentive enough, Dract Malfoy's impending fall from grace he hoped would be enough to sweeten the pot to see things his way.
There was silence between them for a few moments as Hermione considered his offer. To Harry, the mere fact that she was even considering it was something of a victory in itself.
'I don't know if I can do that, Harry. You'll have to let me think about it.' She finally answered him.
Harry's face dropped but only slightly. Time to break out the Potter charm. He just couldn't let Hermione slip. Not here, when she was so close to agreeing with him! Eyes on the Snitch, Potter, eyes on the Snitch. 'Alright, Hermione, don't think of it as… erm… aiding in – erm – violation of school policies.' He prided himself on how official that last bit managed to sound. 'Think of it as performing a special service to the school!'
'Services to the school?' Hermione arched a delicate brow at her friend. She secretly found it both adoreable and hilarious to see Harry grasping for straws whilst still attempting to remain suave about the whole thing.
'Yea, school services! How many people do we know who hate Draco Malfoy?'
'Umm, is that a rhetorical question?'
'Precisely!' Harry grinned. 'Everyone hates Malfoy. Seventh year, Hermione! Think of it! If we put that git in his place at last, we would go down in Hogwarts history!'
Yea, for the wrong reasons, though. Hermione wasn't going to argue with Harry, though. Truth be told, it was completely public knowledge to all that Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger hated one another with such a fiery passion that it transcended all the planes of normal hate in this realm and was in a league entirely of its own. The best way to sum it up was that Hermione didn't want Draco Malfoy dead, so much as she no longer wanted him to be alive any longer.
She thought of all the years Malfoy had harassed her about her Muggle heritage; when he had cursed her to make her teeth grow to embarrassing proportions that she really did look the part of a human beaver; or the times when, as they got older, the blonde haired git would even go as far as vanishing her books in the corridors in the rare occurrence that he had a clear shot at her.
If she had to contemplate her choice any longer, she would no longer have any choice but to commit herself to St. Mungo's for being an absolute nutter. Still, she secretly had a feeling she was going to regret this. Tonight's the night that Hermione Granger damns herself to Head Girl Hell. Although there was still a distinct shiver of delight from the fact that she was going to be instrumental in extracting her revenge on Malfoy, a little party of Hermione insisted that she was no better than one of those back alley Aurors that would occasionally appear in the Prophet for selling their protection to illicit witches or wizards in the name of Galleons. Was she really that much better? She was selling her power as an authority figure among her peers for revenge.
'Ok Harry,' she responded slowly, as if testing the weight of the words she was uttering on her tongue, 'I'll do it. But this can't get out and if themes pranks end up being injuring or a problem for someone else, then the deal's off and I'll have no choice but to dole out punishments.'
Good Merlin, she had called it a deal too! What was the world coming to when Hermione Granger willingly put the well-being of another student in jeopardy for her own amusement? Well, at least there wasn't a cloud in sight raining on Harry's parade. He was positively beaming so widely that, by extension, he could have been a walking piece of that bright, mythical ball of light that had passed into legend for all those who called Scotland their permanent home.
He leaned forward and enveloped her in a massive hug.
'Hermione, you're the best!' Harry exclaimed. Hermione nodded, squeezing her eyes shut. Oh Lord, what have I done? He pulled away. 'Alright, so I'll talk to Ron and we'll go from there. Trust me, 'Mione – we've got huge plans! Huge ones!'
But he didn't even have to go far to talk to one Ronald Weasley because the boy in question happened to walk into the Common Room at that very moment. Flanked by Seamus and Dean, with whom he was having a typically animated discussion about Quidditch (What else was new?), he spotted Harry and Hermione in the corner. Having kept the memory of Hermione's slap close to his mind (and his cheek) Ron cautiously approached the two, with the other two boys in tow. Had Harry finally managed to bring her anger levels down? Honestly, he wasn't very keen on fighting with Hermione - especially when he had a Charms essay due in two days!
Ron came to stand next to Harry, eyeing Hermione with caution. Harry, knowing it was now Ron's turn to pay retribution to the Head Girl, decided to bow out of this one. He remained silent in his seat, while Seamus and Dean stood back against the wall, watching the scene about to play out with interest. Part of them couldn't help for an action-packed Hermione to lash out and slap Ron again – that would have been wicked!
'Uh- Hi, Hermione...' The redhead began nervously. Harry blanched inwardly. Ron had always been utter rubbish with apologies. 'Erm... How was Runes?'
The strained expression on his face was priceless to Hermione. She had never met another human being who found it so difficult to spit out the words, 'I'm sorry!' or an acceptable equivalent thereafter. Normally – knowing Ron - she would have acknowledged this as his attempt at apologizing but this time, a devious little part of her thought it would be hilarious to make the redhead squirm a bit. She didn't know why. Perhaps it was because she found the little deal she had made with Harry not but a few minutes ago to be her own version of hitting the bottom of the barrel in honesty; or, maybe it was because she had just decided to let her hair down a bit. After all, it was Seventh year, and – like it or not – this all sounded like a bit of fun. And besides, she was still a bit sore about this whole nickname nonsense that seemed to be sweeping through the student body like an unwelcome infection.
'Good evening, Ronald.' Hermione shot back primly, her face passive. 'Runes was quite enjoyable. Professor Vector allowed us to spend the last hour working on deciphering ancient runes made by the Greek Wizards approximately two thousand years ago. How was Herbology class?'
Ron looked like he was about to choke. Obviously he expected Hermione to shoot up in a rage and yell at him, perhaps stomp up to her dorm too and swear not to speak to him for the rest of the night. No, instead he got Hermione acting like... well... Hermione. He had no idea what to say.
'Oh... erm – that sounds good. Yea... Herbology was fine...'
Hermione couldn't take it much longer. She shot a knowing look with Harry, whose head was down as he tried to suppress the urge to laugh. He knew exactly what Hermione was playing at.
She burst out laughing and Ron almost fell over.
'Oh good, Ronald! I'm so very glad for you!' She choked out through a fit of giggles.
Ron jut looked downright confused. He looked at Harry and glared when he noticed his best mate was laughing as well.
'What are you two playing at?' He asked Harry, looking utterly scandalized. The Boy-Who-Lived looked up, taking his glasses off to wipe a tear from his eye, and attempted to declare his innocence by giving Ron a hearty shrug.
'Sorry, mate. You sort of fell into this one big time.' He looked at Dean and Seamus, who were both apparently just as confused as Ron. 'All right there, you two?'
Dean merely gave him a thumbs up while Seamus decided that nothing could his express his well-being more than clapping his arm around Ron's shoulder and declaring in his loud, booming Irish voice, 'She had you good and proper there, Ron! Nice one, Granger!' Ron shoved his arm off of him and pushed Seamus. He smirked and returned to the wall next to Dean.
Hermione beamed back. 'Why thank you, Seamus.' She turned her attention to Ron, who began to look a bit hurt at being ignored. He may have been assaulted by Hermione, but she was still supposed to be one of his best mates. 'And yes, Ron, I forgive you.'
It took them all a few moments to calm down, mainly Dean and Seamus. It was a rare occurrence in nature to see Hermione Granger get one over Ron in the prank department. They calmed down after a few moments though and, deciding to call it a night, went off to bed. They assured Harry and Ron that they would talk more about their latest plan of action in the morning.
Now Harry, Ron and Hermione were seated around the table, the humour having subsided. It was nice, Hermione decided, to be on speaking terms with them. Truth be told, she didn't fancy spending night after night alone in the Common Room or all the day hours holed up in the Library in an attempt to escape Parvati and Lavendar's ceaseless gossiping babble. No, she got on much better with Harry and Ron. Her boys...
'So,' Ron started, 'what were you and Harry carrying on about when we came in?'
'Hermione's going to help us bring Malfoy down!' Harry threw in excitedly. 'She's agreed to help keep Davies off our back so we're pretty much free to mess with Malfoy in peace.'
'Really, Hermione?' Ron asked, bewildered. Hermione nodded. 'That's bloody brilliant! Ok, Harry that's it! We've got to start planning something big!'
Hermione sat back and watched their exchange, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Boys...
Harry nodded back enthusiastically. 'I know! So I sent an owl to Sirius and asked him for a few ideas. I'll bet he knows loads of good stuff!'
'And I sent a letter to Fred and George. I asked them for a few things from the shop that they might like to donate to the cause.'
'So do you have any ideas on where we might like to start?'
'Umm... A few.' Said Ron. 'They're basic stuff, really. Like, charming his hair Green? Oh- and I read in one of Fred and George's joke books this spell to transfigure clothes.'
'How about vanishing his robes in the middle of class?'
Both Harry and Ron looked at Hermione, shocked. She had, indeed, just voiced that suggestion. Hermione rolled her eyes huffed.
'Honestly you guys! I already told you, Harry, that I'm on board,' And severely risking my credibility to do this, 'so I'm all in! Now, let's get to work! Harry, in Potions tomorrow you'll...'
And so, to their total disbelief, Hermione had cast her lot with the pranksters – contrary to all odds. She leaned in conspiratorially towards them from across the table and began to layout one of the best pranks they had heard in so long, it would have made the Weasley twins proud. This was it! October third, nineteen ninety-seven: The day Hermione Granger declared war on Draco Malfoy...
A/N: So there you have it! Hermione has officially gone to war with Malfoy, which means some serious hijinks is about to go down at Hogwarts! What do you guys think? Read and review! And the next chapter will be up no later than three days, possibly earlier.