Author's Note: I expected this chapter to be done about a week and a half ago (sorry thatsjustusxx) but then I went through this weird three day Glee obsession (I've always liked it, but I just watched the Glee Project obsessively and rewatched a few episodes) and then came to the inevitable conclusion that the nearly complete 16 page chapter was mostly complete rubbish. The initial challenge I had was this weird season based obstacle course that ended up involving butter and it was so weird, and I also realized that without the looming eliminations there would be no plot movement. So I spent a day moping and trying to find ways to save what I'd written with small changes (should've learned from Gorbachev and just scrapped it all, props if you understand) so I deleted about seven pages of writing.
Also, I started to use this story as a vehicle to push my own secondary character agenda (I actually love developed secondary characters. And obviously I want to include developed secondary characters in this story, but they can't be the main focus). So basically I spent about a week rethinking this story's direction and, specifically, this chapter. But that means more organization. So it was worth it.
In other news, I'm officially done my first year—passed all my classes, moved out of residence, have a house set up for next year, working this summer, have a job for next year. Ideally the next four months will be used to complete this story, and read through the good stack of books I have yet to crack open.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, etc.
The next few days in the house passed relatively quietly. Blaise wasn't around a whole lot because he had meetings to get to and was working in the studio with producers, but when he was in he was generally in a good mood. Theodore read a lot and had begun his summer work and occasionally asked for Hermione's input, because she'd finished hers in June. Draco and Harry went off for their undocumented time together and returned looking no worse for wear and with less of an edge in their interaction, which Hermione considered a definite improvement. Andrea and Ron spent a lot of time together, and when he wasn't with her he and Harry were frequently flying outside. Pansy and Blaise ended up being the winners of the last challenge and went gallivanting off together for a day. Both were rather close lipped about where they'd been, but they seemed much more relaxed.
Despite the rainy and cold weather it was a happy house that Sheila and James walked into on Friday afternoon. Hermione was stretched out on one of the couches, reading about the Goblin Uprising of 1829 and taking notes if there was anything she could add to her History of Magic essay. Blaise had napped for a few hours and was scribbling away in the journal Hermione had given him, and Theodore was lying on his stomach on the floor, frowning into his Arithmancy text. Draco wandered in, phone in hand, and was followed closely by Sheila and James.
"The next challenge," Sheila informed them after Hermione had curled her legs beneath her, allowing Draco to take a seat beside her, "Is the first one that will result in eliminations. It has three components, a social, physical and mental."
"How well you perform in the first determines your standing at the beginning of the second, and so on." James told them, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. "The first part will take place tonight, and it's the social aspect, the next two will take place tomorrow."
"In two groups, which are your separate teams, you'll be going out to muggle clubs. You have one hour to socialize and get comfortable, and after than one hour you each have to get the phone number of someone from the opposite sex. Wait," Sheila held up a hand at Blaise, who'd frowned and started to speak, "You'll be going to clubs frequented by heterosexual young adults, so if you really don't want to get a girl's phone number, that's up to you. But it will make the challenge more difficult."
"Once you have that phone number you have to come find an assistant working on the show, who will be identified for you before you head in, and then he or she will check to make sure it's real. If it is, the rest of the night is yours. If not, try again." James smiled at them all, "Your cars will be by to pick you up at 10:30. Make sure you dress the part. Any questions?"
The room stayed silent, so the couple bid them adieu and set off to the other section of the house to find the Pansy Pickers.
"Dress the part?" Theodore wrinkled his nose, folding up his book. "Wait, does this mean I'm going to have to be charming?"
"Probably," Draco said with a nod, looking far more confident than Hermione felt. "If you can manage."
"Damn. I better be able to drink at this club," Theodore mumbled, wandering from the room without another word.
Blaise pursed his lips together, scribbling another line into his book and popping it shut. Draco cast a look at Hermione and then stood, following Theodore. Hermione waited until his footsteps couldn't be heard anymore and then turned to Blaise, who was staring at the ceiling. "Hey, Blaise?"
"Mmm?" He looked up at her, eyebrows raised, and moved into a sitting position. She hesitated, wondering if he wasn't in an approachable mood, and then he patted the seat beside him.
"Er, you go to wizard clubs, right?" She asked, ignoring the gesture. "What, ahem, I mean what do girls wear?"
Blaise's expressed changed from contemplative to joyous in less than a second. "Are you asking me to help you pick out something to wear?"
"Erm, not really." She backed a few steps up, resisting the urge to laugh nervously when he followed her. "I just—"
"Are we having a gay friend moment?" He asked, his smile stretching to an inordinate degree. "Have we become the stereotype of a girl and her gay?"
"Haha. Ha." She shook her head fervently, folding her arms across her chest. "I just, I suppose I could ask Pansy but I figure since I already know you go out you could just give me a couple pointers, or something like that. So I don't look ridiculously out of place."
"I'll do better!" He grabbed her hand, tugging her alongside him to their rooms. "I'll help you plan your outfit. I mean I'm not one of those fashionable gay stereotypes—I don't know if they're like that in the muggle world but the wizarding world is full of them—but I can help you out. I know what boys like."
Hermione followed him into her room, glancing at the pale orange colour of her name on the door, before taking a seat on her bed. Blaise pointed to her closet, "Can I?"
"Sure," she nodded, pulling her pillow into her lap. Blaise wove through the hanging clothes, pulling out a few items every once in a while, throwing them over his arm.
"Is this all you've got?" He poked his head out, brows drawn in consternation, and she shook her head, nodding to the dresser.
"The bottom three drawers," she replied with slight trepidation as he tossed the pile he'd collected onto the bed and then pulled the drawers open, rifling around. Even with the knowledge that they would find something appropriate for her to wear she had no idea how to go about getting the phone numbers of men, particularly not the kind who hung out in clubs. She'd always kind of idealized that the man she would end up falling in love with and marrying would come to appreciate her through their acquaintance, and come to view her quirks and oddities as endearing. She wasn't exactly the sort to pick guys up in bars, or to draw their attention. She assumed the only way that could happen was if she ever tried to dance, or fell over.
"Why don't you wear half of these things?" Blaise asked, glancing up at her as he held a blue chiffon blouse in front of him.
"Because they're ridiculous." Hermione answered, tossing her pillow to the side and rolling onto her stomach. "My mother bought them for me. I think she has this idea that by sending me to a boarding school with uniforms that I'm missing out on all the opportunities girls my age have to be girly and everything. Which," she admitted, resting her chin in the palm of her hand. "I suppose is true, but I don't mind, really. Fashion is the least of my priorities."
"I can tell," Blaise said with a grin and brought another small collection of clothes to her bed. "You should wear this skirt."
She glanced at it once. "No."
"Why not? There's nothing wrong with it." Blaise frowned, holding the black skirt away from himself.
"Look at how short it is. It's half the length of my Hogwarts skirt!"
"The Hogwarts skirts were designed to make girls look like twelve year olds at all times," Blaise sniffed, dropping the skirt onto the bed. "Not that they succeed, with the way they roll the tops up. What about this skirt?"
"It's the same length," she pointed out, shaking her head. "I'm not going to show up to the club looking like some kind of scarl—"
"Sorry? What were you just about to say?" Blaise paused his perusal of her clothing to look at her, corners of his lips twisted up in delight.
"Scarlet woman," she rolled her eyes when he let out a spluttered laugh. "Ron's mum says it. Sort of catches on."
"Scarlet woman," Blaise snorted, shaking his head. "What if you wore those tights things? Leggings?"
"Doesn't change the length of the skirt," she said, wrinkling her nose. "I was hoping there'd be something else."
"Something not so scarlet woman-y?" He suggested with a laugh, tossing the skirts aside. Eventually they found a pair of dark wash skinny jeans that she didn't object to and an emerald green tank top that tied up just behind her neck and had a band tight around her hips.
"Blaise?" Draco popped his head into the room, "There's an owl going berserk in the kitchen for you."
Blaise's face brightened, "It's probably the studio!"
They watched him hurry from the room and Draco turned back to her, eyes rolling over the clothes discarded on her bed. "Going somewhere?"
"Hm? Oh, yeah. Well, tonight. Blaise was just helping me go through some options," she hastily tried to push the skirts out of the way while avoiding looking like she was trying to push the skirts out of the way. He followed her movements with his head cocked to the side, one eyebrow raised and she resorted to patting the pile, nodding. "Right. You ready for tonight?"
"Yeah," he leaned against her bedpost, arms crossed over his chest. "It shouldn't be too difficult, right? Just ask a girl for her cellphone number, right?"
"If she gives it to you, yeah." Hermione said, running her hand up and down the inside seam of her jeans.
"That's why I have my Malfoy charm," Draco said and she could hear the smile in his voice. She shrugged, nodding, and continued to run her thumb over the stitching. "You alright?"
"Hm? Oh, yeah. Of course." She looked up and smiled, shrugging.
"Are you worried the girls won't give you their numbers?"
"Shut up." Hermione rolled her eyes, letting her breath out in a huff. He reached out to stop her hand, meeting her eyes levelly. She sucked in a breath unconsciously as his hand settled on her knee.
"You'll be fine. Just pull out the Granger charm you've got hidden in there. The stuff you use to talk to people who aren't me." He smiled after a brief hesitation, his eyes flickering back to her leg and he withdrew his hand hurriedly. "Also, do something to your hair. It's like a rose bush. Cut away all the bramble and the leaves and all that. Find the roses."
She flushed in spite of herself. "I can't believe you actually just said that to me, Malfoy."
"It's my Malfoy charm in action, actually." He pushed off, walking back to the door with his hands in his pockets. "Just practicing."
"You're about as charming as the Bloody Baron. With the chains," she retorted as she climbed off her bed and set about folding her clothes back up.
"I'm sure the Baron would love to hear about how delightful you find him," he called over his shoulder, "I'm sure he'd be willing to leave the dungeons to visit the Gryffindor tower at least once a week."
"Tell him and you can spend the rest of eternity haunting the dungeons with him."
Hermione listened as his laughter drifted down the hallway, a smile flitting over her face. After a moment she realized that she was staring after him out the door and shook her head, turning back to the clothes.
Well, these are tight pants. Hermione surveyed herself in the mirror doubtfully, wondering if ankles were supposed to look that small. In the hopes of making the first part even moderately easier she'd broken out a bottle of Sleakeasy's and researched charms that were supposed to help keep hair straight. Pansy had wandered in at one point and helped her put eyeliner on in a straight line and tried to wrestle her into wearing heels, which she'd stoutly refused.
Purse in hand she tried to shake the feeling of doubt curling around her stomach and rubbed her shaking hands over her legs. Blaise, Theodore and Draco were all gathered by the door in varying states of attractiveness, all long legs and elegantly styled clothing. "Bloody Baron eat your heart out," Draco smirked and she rolled her eyes at him, wondering how exactly girls in books managed to fight blushes and if she could figure out how to do it as well.
"Hey, Hermione," Theodore sidled up to her and put his arm around her waist, smiling down at her. "You look lovely."
"He's been drinking for the last hour," Blaise rolled his eyes and peeled Theodore away from her. "Trying to push all his wanker tendencies to the side of his personality for a minute."
"Can't decide if this is an improvement or not," Draco snickered and raised his hands in the air when Theodore glared at him. "Just don't get too fresh."
"That's how Blaise always pulls," Theodore said and snickered when Blaise opened his mouth, presumably to protest, before shrugging and nodding with a sheepish smile.
They climbed into their car and were greeted by the representative from the show, a pale dark haired man dressed in dark clothes with a beanie pulled low on his forehead. "Hello, all. I'm Mitchell." He smiled at them and recited their instructions as their car began to move. "We're going to drop two of you off a block or so away, with the directions of course, one of you is going to have to wait in line at the front and the other gets to by-pass through the back. We don't want it to look like you came together."
Hermione was embarrassed to admit that the realization that they couldn't all be together made her more than a little nervous. "Won't people find it weird that someone goes in alone? I don't suppose it's very common for people to go out by themselves."
"Hold on," the car slowed to a stop and he nodded to Blaise and Draco, who were the closest to the door. "You two hop out. The club is called Cowboy's, you walk down this street to the next stop light, turn right and you should see the sign just down the road. Here's your cover charge and money for drinks," he handed over some muggle bills, "Any questions send me a text. I'll be in in about twenty minutes, and you'll receive a text when I'll be accepting phone numbers. Go on."
Blaise hopped out, casting one look back to Theodore and Hermione, and then Draco followed him and the door slid shut. "Right," Mitchell turned, "Hermione we're going to get you to wait in line. Try to creep up to some girls and make it look like you're with them, okay?"
"Erm, right." She nodded, accepting the cover fee he extended to her. "I—"
"Aaand here we are, hop out." Mitchell opened the door and she felt her stomach tighten as her blood momentarily turned to ice. "Come on."
"Erm, right. See you," she nodded to Theodore and climbed out, hurrying to where a line was formed outside the club. She could see Blaise and Draco turning onto the street and fell in right behind a group of girls wearing stilettos and short dresses. Running her hands up and down her arms she breathed a sigh into the muggy air, damp from rain and cold from night.
As Blaise and Draco walked by her she turned to avoid displaying any recognition, accidentally jostling a muscular man who stood just to her left. "Oh, sorry." He turned swiftly in her direction and then, after doing a double take, turned back.
"That's alright," his eyes went up and down her body and she tried to avoid wrinkling her nose at his blatant survey. "You here alone?"
"No," she said quickly and then realized that in front of her were the solid backs of the girls and behind her was a group of older looking males who were paying no attention to her. "I needed a breath of air, and they wouldn't let me slip back in."
"Rubbish luck," he said, but the interest in his eyes faded and he turned back to his friend without another word. Breathing a short sigh of relief she huddled closer to the girls in front of her and was quickly admitted through the doors.
The club wasn't much classier than the name suggested and she squinted her eyes to see through the flashing lights on the dance floor to where the bar area was. She'd only been out of the car for seven minutes and, with the intention of avoiding the dance floor for as long as possible, she headed straight for it.
"What can I get you?" The bartender was a sturdy blonde with a friendly smile and, noticing Hermione's hesitation, offered "Pornstars are rather good. First one's on me."
"Thanks," she said with a smile, glancing down the counter and then to the dance floor. Her eyes were scanning the crowd and came to a sudden halt on Theodore, who had his hands pressed to the abdomen of a girl whose back was pressed to him, writhing with the music. A flash of blonde hair by the door drew her eye and then she turned back to the bar, trying to seem like she wasn't paying attention.
"Here you are," A drink was pushed across the counter to her and as Hermione took her first sip, which was nowhere near as disgusting as she'd expected, moved to help the next person.
"I'd love a Sex on the Beach," a familiar drawl came from Hermione's left and she felt her back stiffen, but didn't look.
"Coming right up." The bartender's smile was noticeably friendlier.
"Thanks," Draco leaned an elbow onto the bar top and flashed a grin, "I'm Draco."
"Sam," she said as she set about mixing liquor into the glass.
"Good night?" His eyes flicked briefly to Hermione and she realized she was staring and hurriedly returned to her drink.
"Busy, you?"
"Just got a bit better." He accepted the drink and wandered off, "Thanks, Sam."
"You should go after him," Sam said to her, inclining her head in the direction Draco had disappeared off to. "He definitely just checked you out."
Flushing and trying to tell herself not to be ridiculous she shook her head. "I, erm, can I get another?" Accepting the drink she walked away from the bar, checking her phone. Mitchell had just let them know that he was in the club, but not accepting phone numbers yet.
Fantastic. She resisted the urge to grimace and lifted her drink high in the air, following a girl who pushed through the dancing bodies to find her friends. Imitating her she swayed her hips a bit, taking another sip. The dance floor was incredibly hot and she could feel a slight flush coming over her from the alcohol, making her feel less self-conscious about dancing. A few feet away from her she could make out the occasional snatches of Blaise, his forehead pressed against a girl whose arms were wrapped around his neck.
A hand wrapped around her waist and she almost jumped as a firm body pushed up against her. It was actually a bit nice, she concluded after they'd achieved a kind of rhythm, because whoever she was dancing with was doing all the work and she could lean back against him without feeling exposed to everyone else. It wasn't until he reached out and pulled her hair from her face, his lips on her neck that she started to feel awkward. Masking shaking him off by taking another drink she almost jumped when he ground hard against her. She could feel his lips moving rather than hear what he was saying and she turned to try and get a look at him.
He pointed at her empty glass and gestured back to the bar.
"Erm, no thanks," she tried to shout over the music and he leaned closer to her, squinting. "I don't really do this often," she laughed awkwardly as she tried to explain and he frowned, not seeming to understand, before releasing his hands from her waist. By the time she'd blinked he was being gyrated on by another girl, leaving Hermione to stare in shock and consternation.
Making her way back to the bar she spotted Theodore sitting on a stool, two empty shot glasses in front of him, talking to another girl who was trying to climb into his lap. Requesting another drink she fanned herself, regretting somewhat the decision not to wear a skirt simply to avoid the extra layer keeping her body heat in. Near the edge of the dance floor she saw Blaise talking into a brunette's ear, both their eyes fixed on the bar, and she turned away self-consciously.
"Thanks," she moved back to the dance floor, contemplating the various ways she could get someone's phone number without having to actually make out with them. She got as far into the middle of the group as she could, nearly walking into Draco being sandwiched by two girls. One of them seemed to have no qualms about his pointy face and was snogging him wholeheartedly while her friend, presumably, danced against him from behind.
Halfway through her third drink her movements were coming freer and by the time she'd finished it a moderately good looking boy with heavy eyebrows and a tangle of brown curls approached her. One of his hands went for the small of her back and the other to her waist, where it flexed and then drew her close. She felt a buzz in her pocket and, assuming it was Mitchell letting them know that he would be accepting numbers at any time, she decided to set her sights on the boy she was dancing with.
They danced another song together and then he started angling his head in a way that suggested he wanted to kiss her, so she looked to the left and then took a shot. Leaning closer, heart beating rapidly for reasons other than the heat, dancing and alcohol, she said, "Hey, can I get your cell number?"
He shook his head, pointing to his ear, and she got so close her lips brushed against the tip of his earlobe. Nodding in understanding he reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone, to her dismay, and then fiddled with the buttons without stopping their movement. Accepting it back she saw that he'd added himself as Brian : ).
The song ended, which she considered perfect timing, and she lifted her hand to show him her empty glass and shouted "I'll talk to you later."
He didn't seem to understand and followed her back to the bar, where he proceeded to buy her another drink and started chatting while he drank a beer. Judging from the way his hands gesticulated she was guessing it was nowhere near his first. Glancing over her shoulder she couldn't make out anyone else from her team and felt her heart beating faster and faster at the idea that they'd all already given Mitchell their numbers and had left.
Brian erupted into a fit of laughter and she turned back to him, her heart coming to a stuttering halt as pure relief filled her veins. Mitchell was seated in the stool closest to the wall, his beanie still pulled low, nursing a massive glass of beer.
"One second," she held up one finger to Brian and started for Mitchell. "Here it is," she held her phone out, the contact tab open. Mitchell grinned at her and pulled out his phone, quickly typing in the number.
"Thanks, Hermione. I'll send out another text when I've verified your number, and then another when it's time to go. You can just have fun, now."
Realizing that she had beat at least one person on her team made her bones feel like they'd been replaced by yoghurt and she returned to Brian with a smile on her face. He, on the other hand, was glaring at Mitchell and proceeded to start ranting to her about being deceptive and, as she stood listening with an open mouth, ended the tirade by calling her a stupid slut.
"Excuse me!" Anger swirled through her and she set her drink down, hands curling. "I was just talking to my friend, I do believe that that's allowed—"
"I'm so sick of two timing slags," he raged, paying no attention to her protests.
"Can a girl not go talk to another boy without being insulted?" Shaking from a combination of outrage and the alcohol she couldn't stop herself from seizing her drink and tossing it over him. "Thanks for the drink."
She stormed past him as he spluttered curse words after her and returned to the dance floor, where she was approached quite quickly and danced for the remainder of the night while avoiding wandering lips and adventurous hands. By the time her phone buzzed the second time, letting her know it was time to go, it was 1:30 AM and her vision seemed to have sunken into her head a bit. She hurriedly detached herself from the guy she'd been dancing with just in time to avoid the hand that was trying to creep up her top and, thanking the tight band around her hips, darted outside.
The car was waiting and she jumped in, twirling her hair to get it off her neck and reclining against the seat. Draco climbed in shortly after, his hair rumpled and his lips a bit swollen, and then Blaise followed. The brief moments the door was open afforded her a good enough view to see girls hobbling away from the club in heels and guys stumbling out with their arms around each other's' shoulders.
"That was fun," Blaise said, rolling his eyes as he leaned back against the seat.
"Bloody rubbish," Draco tried to comb through his hair with a hand. "Kept trying to get their numbers and they kept trying to eat my face."
"I think they deliberately picked a dodgy club," Blaise said and reached his hands up to massage his head. "All the girls on the dance floor got swept up pretty fast."
Mitchell climbed in and slammed the door shut. "Theodore is cabbing back, so we're off!"
"Cabbing? Why?" Blaise frowned, opening his eyes.
"He's with a lady." Mitchell grinned, "So expect him back late."
"He went home with someone?"
"Yep," Mitchell leaned back and yawned. "I am beat."
"Was she really smashed?" Blaise persisted, leaning his elbows on his knees.
Mitchell snorted, "No. She seemed to handle her drinks well. He drank a lot more."
"How pissed was he? Out of control?"
Eyebrows raised, Mitchell answered, "It's not up to me to decide how drunk is too drunk. He seemed fine."
Draco smiled tiredly, "I always forget that Theodore can actually pull if he really tries."
"Me too," Blaise said in a tense voice and folded his arms over his chest. "I hope he's careful."
As they filed into the house Hermione was struggling to keep her eyes from closing on their own accord and, just before they parted ways, found herself wrapping her arms around Draco's side. He tensed at first, before returned the hug as best he could from the angle, and then she said goodnight and practically collapsed on her bed.
She was asleep almost instantly.
By the time Hermione had dragged herself out of bed, showered, brushed her teeth twice in an attempt to get rid of the taste of the previous night and had two cups of steaming tea it was 11:30. Blaise had wandered into the kitchen while she waited for the kettle to boil the second time and joined her at the table, nibbling non-committedly at a piece of toast. Theodore stumbled into the room as she was rinsing her mug and Blaise had abandoned his food in favour of the Prophet.
"Morning," she said with a friendly smile as he filled the kettle and began digging through a drawer for a sachet of Earl Grey.
He looked up at her as if surprised, "Hi."
"Good night?" She asked after a silence she'd thought Blaise would fill, as he usually did after Hermione and Theodore had exchanged pleasantries in the morning. Instead he continued to read, eyes narrowed, and she wondered why he was in such a mood.
"Alright," he shrugged, fumbling around in the cupboard.
"When did you get back?" The tea had made her feel less exhausted and made way for hunger, so she rifled around in the fridge until she found a box of strawberries.
"'about three." He poured hot water over the bag and began to spoon copious amounts of honey in after it.
"Three?" She repeated in surprise, "That's not very long."
"I only had to make sure she got home safely," Theodore gave her a strange look that was all drawn eyebrows and downturned lips. "Why?"
"Er, nothing." She said as she bit into a strawberry, casting him a sidelong glance as he sipped his tea.
Draco emerged from the bathroom, a towel around his waist and a shirt thrown on hastily. He grunted in acknowledgement and passed down the hallway to his room. "Friendly in the morning, isn't he?" Theodore said with a snicker, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. Blaise laughed, the surly expression gone from his face. "How are you all feeling, by the way?"
"Alright," she shrugged and Blaise nodded in agreement. "I had to brush my teeth for about ten minutes before it felt like the taste of Pornstar was actually out of my mouth."
Theodore cackled, "That's definitely on the list of things I never expected to hear come out of your mouth."
She paused, frowning—and then realized what he was implying and flushed. "Don't be crude!"
"You were getting pretty friendly with a few guys last night," Blaise waggled his eyebrows at her over his mug.
Her blush deepened. "I was not! I danced with a few, but nothing actually happened!"
Draco strolled in, twirling his wand around his fingers, and glanced from her flushed face to Blaise and Theodore. "Do I want to know?"
"We're just talking about Granger dancing with half the club last night." Theodore said, a smirk twisting his lips.
"Oh," Draco's expression darkened momentarily and then he smirked as well.
"I did not! You guys are being ridiculous," she huffed, stirring her spoon around in the dregs of her tea. "There weren't more than a handful, and it was just dancing. Nowhere near as bad as what everyone around me was doing, not to mention what you three got up to."
Blaise shrugged and unpeeled a banana. "Just didn't take you as one for the dirty dancing."
Resisting the urge to quote a film none of them would understand she gave up on the stirring and stood up to rinse the mug in the sink. "Again, it was not dirty! And just because I'm not some kind of-of—"
"Scarlet woman?" Blaise supplied helpfully, exchanging a smile with Theodore when he snorted.
"Well, yes! Just because I'm not doesn't mean that I can't have fun and dance if I want to. There's this preposterous double standard that boys can go around and do whatever they want, but if a girl does something that goes against their fragile ideals of what girls should be like she's instantly labeled a whore! It's ridiculous!" Hermione took in a deep breath when she realized they were all staring at her and sighed. "When I went to give the phone number for the challenge, the boy who gave it to me saw and called me a stupid slut."
"What?" Draco glared, "He was clearly delusional, and probably had a brain the size of a newt. I knew he had a shady look about him."
"Can you even remember what he looked like?" She frowned, leaning back against the counter.
"Yeah, he was the one who looked like a dumb prick." Draco said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
The buzz of Hermione's phone in her pocket interrupted their conversation and she pulled it out, reading the message out loud when she saw who it was from. "We have fifteen minutes to meet out in the garden."
Theodore groaned and lifted his mug to his forehead, eyes closing as the steam floated over his face. "Better get ready."
Hermione stuffed her phone back into her pocket, popped a strawberry into her mouth and hurried back to her room. Remembering what they'd said about there being both physical and mental components of the challenge she put on sweatpants and a hoodie that had been her father's in high school. The weather, instead of returning to unusually sunny and warm, had rained a bit more and gotten even colder than the previous day so she wanted to be prepared.
The garden was, if possible, greener than it had ever been. Leaves dripped from the rain that had fallen in the last hour and the sun was hiding behind great grey clouds. Harry, Ron and Pansy joined them shortly in the garden and, after they'd all gathered, Sheila and James strode into the small clearing.
"Good afternoon, everyone. Did you have good nights?" James smiled around at them all, his eyes flitting to Blaise twice when he snorted. "Our next challenge is a combination of the physical and the mental."
"Basically, you have to finish the puzzle and make a perfect square." Sheila explained, "The pieces are wooden and buried in sand pits. You need to find the pieces and slot them correctly. There are numbers on certain areas of the pieces, and they must be beside a number on a correlating piece that, when added, they both equal nine. Any questions?"
Hermione shook her head and began to think of strategies as Harry asked how many pieces there were, and was denied an answer.
"If that's all, then, please follow me." The group set off after James, who broke into a cheerful rendition of 'You Raise Me Up' and successfully overshot every single high note. They were led into another small clearing that had seven sandpits roughly one metre apart, set down a small but slight embankment. Roughly fifty metres away from each pit was a silver surface that she realized was where they would have to put together the puzzle.
"You can only carry one piece from the pit to the metal at a time." Sheila informed them, shooting James a dark glare when he fumbled what was supposed to be a key change and instead sounded like two different animals dying. "The challenge will finish when everyone has completed the puzzle. You cannot communicate with your teammates during this challenge."
They were then distributed between the sand pits so that the teams were staggered, with Hermione standing between Pansy and Harry just behind her sand pit. She looked across to where the silver surface reflected what meagre sun shone through the clouds and then down the small slope to where the sand sat, hiding the pieces she needed.
"You may begin!" Sheila called out and Hermione scrambled down the side, sliding through the somewhat damp sand, and fell immediately to her knees. Shoving her hands into the coarse earth she began to dig, grimacing as grains of sand sank under her nails. She realized with slight dismay that the pits were deep enough that she couldn't see anyone else, and then her hand encountered something solid. She snatched it up, barely paying attention to the wooden block, and dragged herself out of the pit.
As she dashed across the small gap she realized with shock that the pieces were no more that blocks of wood set in ambiguous shapes, and that there were numbers on both sides. She dropped the piece down and sprinted back to her sand, heart pounding with nervousness and determination.
After she'd brought over five more blocks she dropped to her knees in front of her surface, trying to ignore the fact that Harry, Ron and Blaise had been arranging their pieces for a while now, and set about trying to put them together. She'd loved doing puzzles as a child so she was fairly confident in her ability to do well in the challenge. The only problem was ensuring that she had all the blocks in the first place.
"Done!" Harry stood up, raising his hands in the air, and she glanced up in shock, her heart giving a startled thump. Her eyes met Draco's, who was beside Harry. James examined Harry's surface, declared that it was finished, and shot a black cloth out of his wand to cover it.
Returning to her own with renewed vigour she took a deep breath, trying to think rationally. There were a lot of fours a fives, so she tried to find pairings that were less common and managed to slot together an 8 and a 1, a 2 and a 7, and a 3 and a 6. Realizing that she was missing pieces she hurried back to her pit. On her second trip over, sand shaking off her clothes with every step she took, Ron quickly shouted that he was finished as well and she couldn't stop herself from biting her lip in worry.
"Get a grip," she muttered as she accidentally stumbled on the return trip to the sand. Her knees were cold from resting on the damp ground and her clothes felt heavier from the various ways she'd been shoving the sand out of the way. Am I missing something important? How did Harry and Ron finish so fast?
She brought over two additional blocks, bringing her total to ten, and set to work slotting them together with shaking hands.
"Finished!" Draco yelled and stood by as Sheila declared that his, too, was correct. The unpleasant reality began to sink in that she could actually lose the competition and she squeezed her eyes shut. Focus. Adrenaline was pounding in her veins, but she could feel her concentration slipping with every second she spent dwelling on the potential consequences of loss and not enough on the challenge.
Until two pieces slotted together and her heart leapt to her throat. "Done!" She look up to where Sheila and James stood together, chatting amicably with each other, and rubbed her sand covered hands together as Sheila strode over. She leaned over, her hair brushing the top of Hermione head, and clucked her tongue. "Almost, but not quite."
"What?" Hermione's neck snapped to the side but she couldn't bring herself to wince. "But—but it's a square!"
"It's not complete."
"Hey!" Theodore was waving his hands to get the attention of Sheila and Hermione forced herself to keep from picking up the blocks and throwing them after her. She heard Pansy let out a frustrated squeal as Theodore stood to join the others who had finished the challenge.
Not complete. Hermione stared at the square, her brain on overdrive, trying to understand how she had put it together wrong—"I'm missing a block." She gasped out, stumbling to her feet and setting off on legs that were stiff from kneeling. The side of her sand pit was creased with her footprints and she nearly fell over as she jumped into it, her hands clawing at the sand. She'd never actually lost anything before, and the prospect frightened her.
It wasn't until she could feel tears of frustration and anger pricking at the corner of her eye that she found a long, narrow piece of wood in a pile of sand she'd discarded. Dragging herself from the pit for what she fervently hoped was the last time she tore across the divide and set about finishing the puzzle.
Blaise finished next and she couldn't resists casting a look at Pansy, who looked completely lost and was counting aloud. Trying to save the general structure of her square she flipped over some of the pieces, the sound of her breathing and the rhythmic pounding of her heart the only noise in her ears. And then—yes. She fit the piece in and the rest seemed to follow perfectly and she rocked back onto her heels, throwing a hand straight into the air. "I've—I've finished!" She called out, worrying her lip as James wandered over and carefully looked over her square.
"Indeed." He grinned at her and extended a hand to help her to her feet. A surge of relief shot through and she accepted the help, following him to where her housemates stood.
"How did you finish so quickly?" She directed the question to Harry, who was helping her swipe sand off her sweater.
"Magic," he answered and, as her eyes widened and her jaw dropped, continued. "They didn't tell us we couldn't do it, so I accio'd the blocks and then used a spell to detect the blocks that fit together."
"I can't believe I was so stupid!" She covered her eyes with her hand, ignoring the immediate regret when sad crumbled over her eyelashes. "I just adopted the no magic rule to every challenge and now I've gone and lost— "
"If it's any consolation," Draco said to her from where he stood with Theodore and Blaise, "I didn't realize we could use magic until I saw Weasley putting his wand away."
"I didn't at all," Blaise said, glaring at the dirt beneath his nails. "But there was a pattern in the square numbers. The first row had one, two, three and four so the corresponding numbers decreased from eight, and—"
"Hearing you talk about math is giving me a headache," Theodore said pointedly and began to clap as Pansy finally completed the challenge. "Top notch job, Pansy!"
"Piss off," she snapped weakly, her shoulders slumped as she joined them. "That was awful."
Hermione gave her a small smile. "Apparently most of these boys only finished with magic, so at least you know you could do it unaided."
"I did use magic!" Pansy wailed, shaking her head in an attempt to get the sand out of it. "I just couldn't figure out the right spell to help me put the pieces together once I got them out!"
Blaise snickered under his breath, but the laughter quickly died in his throat when he realized Pansy's wand was still in her hand. Theodore gave her a consoling pat on the back as Sheila and James, who had been talking in undertones a short distance away, came over to them. "We've compared the results to those from last night, and we have identified the bottom two!"
Any traces of smiles disappeared from the faces of the teenagers.
"The winner of the combined challenge was Ron," James beamed at him, pretending not to hear the startled choking of Draco. "Good work! Unfortunately, two of you didn't do so well as a total, and are being put up for elimination. Only the favour of the wizarding world can help you now."
"So," Sheila cut in, her manicured hands clutching a crisp white piece of paper. "The two of you who are completely at the mercy of our viewers are…Pansy and Hermione."
Hermione's heart sank.
Of course she should have expected it. And given her performance in the puzzle challenge, she had a bit. But it was still a blow to know that she had made such an effort to put herself in a situation where she'd had to ask for a boy's number, which she had never done before, and then dragged herself through gritty sand and struggled to put together a silly puzzle for nothing. Worse still was the fact that she knew countless spells that would have won her the challenge almost instantly, but either through her immediate assumption that magic was forbidden in all challenges, or considering it the equivalent of some form of cheating, it hadn't even crossed her mind to use her wand.
She listened to Sheila's talking in a sort of daze—they would have an interview in an hour in which she would respond to questions asked by viewers and prove she deserved to stay—and then returned to the house in silence.
Even though she showered and somehow managed to wash the grit out of her hair she still felt like rubbish. Shutting the door to her room firmly behind her, glancing at her pale blue name with faint annoyance, she lay on her bed and stared at the ceiling.
How interesting that a month ago the prospect of leaving the house would have been a gleeful one, but now it represented missed opportunity and isolation from her friends. Not to mention the galleon prize which, while she didn't necessarily need it, would have been amazing to win.
James came and led her out to the garden, where Sheila was waiting in the gazebo. Hermione settled herself on the wooden bench opposite them, grateful for the roof to keep the light rain from soaking through her clothes.
"Alright, there, Hermione?" Sheila asked her with a kind smile and Hermione nodded in response. "Great. So this interview consists of three questions. Answer them as honestly as you can, and then you have until tomorrow free. We'll drop by to reveal the results."
"So the first question." James cleared his throat and then enunciated clearly. "Why do you think you deserve to stay on the show?"
Hermione blinked once. "I think that as a member of my team I'm a very strong asset. Although in the last challenge I struggled, the difficulty I had was primarily because our group was divided by people who were using magic and those who weren't. I've also enjoyed most of my time on the show, and I think it would be a shame to have to say goodbye to my teammates. They're, erm, well they're very nice guys. If I do remain on the show, it would give us the opportunity to spend more time together and I can use my full potential in future challenges."
"Second question. What has been your favourite challenge thus far?"
Shaking off a smile she answered quickly. "I think the performing challenge, because it really pushed all of us to our limits but showed that we're capable of things we never thought we were. I'm a really firm believer in human potential, so it was nice to see everyone exercising theirs. Plus, Blaise has an amazing voice and the challenge was a really important moment for his career."
She wondered briefly if the people watching this would think she was ridiculously fake, even though she was being honest. Trying to figure out what other peoples' perceptions of her had always seemed like such a lost cause, so she gave up.
"Last question for now. As a viewer of The House of Hell, why do you think someone would vote for Pansy to stay and not you?"
That's not a very fair question. "Erm…Well, I suppose if you think she deserves to stay more than me you would vote for her…to stay. Maybe because our teams are unequal already."
Sheila waited an extra beat, giving her the opportunity to add anything else, and then smiled encouragingly. "Great. You can head back to the House, and we will see you tomorrow! Good luck!"
"Thanks," she murmured and hurried through the downpour into the House. The living room and kitchen were both empty as she passed through it and returned to her room. At the moment her bed was the softest, warmest, most comfortable thing she could find so she buried herself among blankets and closed her eyes.
After struggling to bring herself to accept the possibility of losing something she hadn't realized she would truly miss she rolled onto her stomach and curled around a pillow. Although it was still mid-afternoon her eyes fell shut and she let sleep tug her into its warm arms.
The next day Hermione woke early, fighting off the laziness that often accompanies oversleeping, and got dressed in a haze. Not entirely sure about when she would be called in for the results she drank a few cups of tea, made French toast, and then retreated to the sitting room to read a book she'd ordered in to accompany readings from a textbook she'd picked it up. It was there that Draco found her roughly an hour later.
"What are you reading?"
Hermione looked up as he sat down on the chair beside the couch. "It's called Broken Fortress, Thrice Won."
"Sounds, er, thrilling," he said, a grin sliding over his pointed face.
"It's about this woman during the Goblin Uprising of 1829," she said as she slipped a finger into the book so she could mark her page and stared at the cover. "It's a very typical girl sheds her female identity to go into war and ends up being an incredible asset. Everyone around her is trying to kill enough goblins that they retreat to their submissive roles in society, but she seeks reconciliation and greater communication between the two sides. It's based on a true story."
"She sounds a bit like you," Draco said, his eyes flicking to the cover and the dark haired girl who stared out the front. "Trying to bridge the gap between wizards and non-wizarding folk."
Hermione smiled at him. "That's why I chose to read it—to bring a more human perspective than the other readings I've done. But I'm not enjoying it as much as I thought I would."
"Why?" He pulled at his long-sleeved shirt, smoothing it over his chest.
She glanced at him briefly. "I expected her to be a stronger heroine. Instead she ends up relying a lot on her friend Gilbert—"
"Gilbert? Poor soul."
"Yes, Gilbert. She relies on him a lot and makes most of her decisions based on what he says. They have this sort of love affair building up right now, but it's so unrealistic and typical of writers who try to appeal to the fantasy of people who read love stories, not what probably actually would have happened." He was watching her with evident interest in his eyes, so she went on. "I mean, the first time she meets him is when he rides by and their eyes lock and she feels moved by him. I suppose that's fine, but given that he was trying to get an untamed horse under control and their eye contact lasted awhile it seemed silly. I just…I sometimes feel like writers brainwash people, a lot of them girls, into thinking that they can have this fairy tale perfect romance, and it's really not possible. So they spend their whole lives waiting for this perfect image of a man and miss a lot of opportunities."
"I always pinned you for one of those idealistic romantic types," Draco replied, his eyes fixed on the finger she had tracing the title on the cover.
"Sometimes I feel like I am. I think I'd like to be, I mean the world would seem so much nicer from the perspective of someone who believes in true, enduring love, wouldn't it?" He inclined his head. "It's just easy to be pessimistic, I suppose."
"When have you been one to go the easy way?"
Shaking off the absurdity of the conversation she shrugged, "Do you ever feel like people automatically assume you have all the characteristics of your House?"
He snorted. "Of course. That's because I am all things associated with Slytherin—cunning, intelligent, sly—"
"Evil? Cold?" Their eyes met and she raised an eyebrow. "They sort us into a House when we're 11, and it's like gaining a second family. But at the same time, they isolate us almost instantly from people in other Houses."
"House pride is one of the most important Hogwarts traditions." Draco said with a frown, as if she'd suggested Hogwarts immediately close down and be converted into a five star pig hotel. "It goes all the way back to the four Founders. The Houses celebrate peoples' differences."
"Mostly within the Houses, though. I hear comments all the time about the rash Gryffindors, or the bookworm Ravenclaws, or the evil Slytherins—not everyone is exactly those things." Hermione tilted her head to the right as a smile quirked her lips up. "It's like an ideal type. People possess some, though not all, of the characteristics that can be used to effectively describe a group of people."
"So you're saying you're not brave, courageous, or rash? None of those things?"
Hesitating briefly before answering, she pushed her tongue between her teeth. "Some of us are. Harry, for example, is a great example of what you'd expect a Gryffindor to be. But there are more sides to him than that. He's also fiercely loyal and he accepts people for who they are, if they're genuinely good. But that's supposed to be a Hufflepuff trait, isn't it?"
"So you're saying that by dividing us into Houses, we're essentially being made into the one dimensional people that we're expected to be?" He asked as he folded his arms over his chest and tapped his fingers lightly over his forearm.
"Yes!" Her enthusiastic nodding seemed to take him by surprise.
"But if we're not sorted, I think a lot of people would miss out on the opportunity to surround themselves with people who understand them and accept them for their common traits. If someone who is in Ravenclaw only had Hufflepuff or Gryffindor friends, they might be made to feel strange for studying often." Draco met Hermione's eyes and she felt her breath catch in her throat.
Coughing and flushing, she ignored his look of half-concern, half-amusement. "I'm sure there are people in Ravenclaw who study less than I do, or you do. I'm not necessarily saying that Sorting should be stopped. I understand its importance to Hogwarts, and to tradition and there are obviously benefits." She shrugged, "I just think that while it encourages relationships it also discourages some, and it's not really beneficial that we're being taught that some qualities are associated with some people and it makes us less or more than them."
"If the relationship is worth it, I think people have it in them to try." Their eyes were still locked and she tried to rationalize the squirming inside her as a by-product of the approaching results and her possible elimination.
She couldn't help herself and dragged her eyes away, flicking them down to where her hands gripped her book. "Do you thin—"
"Hermione!" The sing-songy voice preceded Sheila by about one second and she poked her head in the door. "Hermione, it's time to go. We've gathered your teammates in the kitchen for you to say your potential goodbyes, because if you're eliminated you won't be returning at all."
"What about my things? I can't come back to collect them?"
"A representative will come to collect them." Sheila said with a smile, "So hurry along!"
Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath, before following Sheila out of the room and back into the kitchen. She realized with regret that Harry and Ron were in the other wing of the house, and she wouldn't be able to say goodbye to them.
"Are you nervous?" Blaise asked her before he enveloped her in a hug.
"Erm, a bit." She answered with a laugh, her arms around his neck, and blinked rapidly to fight off the tears that threatened to blur her vision. Wishing she wasn't so emotional she made her way around the gathered semi-circle, smiling weakly at Draco after he'd dragged her into a hug.
"It's, ah, it's been interesting." She addressed her teammates, nodding so she had something to do. "If I don't come back I just want to say, thanks for everything. And, erm, good luck."
She and Pansy were taken outside, into the rain, and faced Sheila and James. One of the cars was parked close by, waiting for the eliminated girl to climb inside and be taken home.
"Hermione and Pansy," Sheila began with a smile. "The only two girls in the House. You both struggled in the puzzle challenge, and while Hermione did well in the social challenge it wasn't enough to save you from the bottom two. Will you please both put your wand hand on the front door?"
Trying to force down a bubble of laughter she pressed her hand against the door, watching water stream over her fingertips.
"The girl who is eliminated from The House of Hell…is…" James watched them expectantly and then the front door flashed a blinding white colour, the signatures of each person from the House appearing in blue script above their hands. "Pansy."
Pansy's name glowed brighter and then faded, leaving only six names in its wake. Gradually they, too faded, and Pansy quickly retracted her hand. Shooting her a confused look Hermione drew back her hand as well, slower.
"The door nearly burned me!" Pansy exclaimed, her eyes downcast as she looked at her hand.
"It's the magic of the show being lifted from you," Sheila informed her with a small smile. "If you girls would like to say a final goodbye, you have about thirty seconds. Otherwise, Hermione you may return to your teammates. They're waiting for you."
Turning to Pansy Hermione embraced her tightly. "Thanks for everything," Pansy whispered in her ear. "You're a lovely girl."
"You too," Hermione answered in surprise, pulling back and holding her at arm's length. She smiled, unsure if it was water or tears streaming down Pansy's face, and then stepped back as the Slytherin walked past her and, without a backwards look, climbed into the car.
Hermione twisted the door open and stepped out of the rain. Blaise was sitting in the same chair he'd been in when she'd left, his chin cradled in his hand. Theodore leaned against the wall and Draco was watching coffee filter through the coffee maker. She walked through the door, a smile on her face, and watched Draco's mouth fall open slightly, before the corner of his lips twitched up.
"That's what I'm talking about!" Blaise stood up and dragged Theodore along with him, tugging her into a hug. Draco came around the corner and slipped next to her, his hand falling to her waist. She turned up to look at him with a smile, her stomach giving a little flip-flop, acutely aware of the hand on her side.
It was there, in the House of Hell, with the arms of her Slytherin teammates wrapped around her, that she realized.
Author's Note: So this ended up being 21 pages, and I feel significantly better about it. Also, I feel like letting you know that I have ordered the eliminations, and I would be highly entertained if you all told me your thoughts regarding what you think the order is.
Also, if any of you have any particular things you'd like a challenge to include (for example: skrillex, campfires, the French language or life size cut-outs of Matthew Gray Gubler) let me know. I would make an effort to include them in some shape or form.
HOH fun fact: Initially, during the road trip, I wrote this weird scene where Hermione takes her sadness about Jacob out by trying to seduce Blaise who, when I began this story started out as an inexperienced heterosexual, succumbed easily to her female prowess. The scene ended with Draco coming in on them kissing and being jealous and angry without realizing why. [It's amazing how bad ideas can seem three years in hindsight.]
So please review! Ask me any questions and I shall answer them to the best of my ability, just a reminder that I respond to all PMs and check my profile for poll updates! Cheers!
WAIT! I had to add this in last minute! But I'm looking for some new music and I'd love some recommendations! What are your favourite songs? Bands? And your favourite books, too? Other than Harry Potter, of course. Thanks!