Hello, my lovely readers! I am back, yayy. And good news! The next chapter would be updated next week! I am trying to stray away from my procrastination and update at the right time :D
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Within days, the top gossip at Hogwarts had changed dramatically. Harry and his interview evaporated from the students' minds like water turning into steam and steam turning into nothingness. Just like he had predicted, everyone had forgotten about him. It seemed like the big news didn't even happen in the first place. Nor did Voldemort's alarming return.
Apparently, the school's motive to lighten up the students was becoming successful.
Harry and Ron didn't mind it much now that they had dates. Truthfully, Harry seemed impartial to it, and Ron spoke about the event occasionally when he was feeling giddy...which was good as Hermione couldn't stand this change in the air.
Everywhere she went, she saw boys asking girls to be their dates, girls giggling and whispering, boys glancing and catcalling at girls. Even the library had fallen victim to such atrocities. Hermione couldn't even immerse herself in her beloved books and her beloved shelves because of the over-the-top annoying voices floating here and there. It was maddening. It was distressing. She wanted to disappear and never come back.
Her growing resentment against the dance had an underlying reason, though. Almost a week had passed since McGonagall had announced the event, and nobody had asked Hermione out yet.
The wretched dance was only six or so days away, and she didn't have anybody to go with. If she didn't land a date and had to face the humiliation of going alone, she knew Harry and Lavender would feel sorry for her, Ron wouldn't let her hear the end of it, and those stupid girls, like Malfoy's new girlfriend and that pug-faced Pansy, would make fun of her till she would succumb into her own brooding shell. No matter how many times she told herself she didn't care, Hermione knew deep down that she did. It was all because of him.
If that wasn't bad, the loud voices in her head were infuriating and upsetting. They were enough to make her drive up the wall...but she stayed put and smiled normally, acting unbothered about the whole situation. She thought even her best friends couldn't see through her, but if they could...she didn't want to reach such a conclusion.
She had even considered asking someone to be her date, but that thought always led to a puzzling question — whom should I approach?
Thankfully, her studies and books were doing a great job in distracting her from all the unwelcomed feelings. As people around her talked about the dance, their love lives, and the unlucky ones who wouldn't get a date, Hermione buried her nose in the dusty pages of a book about the Dark Arts, inhaling the musty smell and swallowing the words in her mind as she read them.
Lately, she had become really interested in Defence Against the Dark Arts. All thanks to Dumbledore's Army and Harry's phenomenal teaching skills, Hermione found herself getting pulled more and more into the realm he was a master at. She spent her nights reading books borrowed from the library; the ones that highlighted ancient wizards and witches and how they diminished the growth of Dark Magic. And ones about the time when Voldemort was at the highest peak. It was fascinating. Mesmerizing. She found the subject broadening her vision. Her horizon. It never seemed to end.
Then suddenly, Hermione realized she needed to be at the top of the class on this subject. She wanted to be better than everyone. Wanted to learn much faster than the others and proceed to the next spell when the others would only be beginning to get the gist of the current one. In fact, one shady and winning-crazed side of her wanted to be even better than Harry. This was the only subject where he could beat her fair and square. Hermione wanted to change that.
But her logical side knew the sad truth. It was extremely difficult, if not impossible, to beat everyone in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Unlike every other subject, one couldn't excel at it by memorizing textbooks and techniques. It required will, strength, bravery — things which weren't exactly her strong suit, or at least more than reading.
These thoughts were running in her mind as she focused on the vase before her. Dumbledore's Army was hard at work in yet another lesson. This one was scheduled during the lunch break between Wednesday classes, meaning it was happening right under their rivals' noses. It felt too good to be true.
They were learning the Knockback Jinx, and the Room of Requirement had transformed itself into the very area Harry had in mind for teaching the spell. Small booth-like structures had materialized for each student, containing a modest table, a simple vase above it, and enough room to help the caster take his position.
They were just starting to try the spell out. Hermione's eyes bored into the blue vase as Harry's voice echoed across the room. "Remember, the incantation for the spell is Flipendo. As I'd said, it is an extremely easy spell and you'll learn it in no time. However, it would become more difficult when you're trying it out on a person instead of a vase, but we don't want anyone to get hurt. Not yet, anyway."
"So, your objective is to break the vase in front of you by knocking it off from the table. Don't strive too much or you'll —"
Yes, yes. It's very simple, Hermione thought over him, rolling her eyes. She just wanted to start.
When he finally finished explaining, the class got to work. Unsurprisingly, Hermione successfully broke the vase with the jinx in two seconds flat. She knew the spell like the back of her hand.
But the spell proved to be easy for everyone. Soon, the air was full of sounds of vases being broken and whoops of students as if they had achieved a milestone. In her booth, Hermione ignored the voices, pointed her wand at the vase, and yelled, "Reparo!" Once that vase was back in its original shape and position, she declared, "Flipendo!" and broke it again. She kept repeating the process, her posture and movement improving at each turn, and only stopped when Harry's voice rang out once more.
"Good. You've all accomplished the first task. Now let's make this more challenging. Try to cast Flipendo on the vase in such a way that it only gives it a little push. It shouldn't fall from the table, so it shouldn't be broken. This would master you in all strengths required for this jinx. You may start now."
But the students quickly realized that this was indeed more challenging. Most of them failed to give the vase a light shove the first time and ended up toppling it over and breaking it into pieces.
Hermione struggled alongside them. It's about strength. Take it easy, she reminded herself. She had failed the first two attempts, so she was determined to get it right on the third.
Blocking everything out, she put her central focus on the blue vase. With her strength getting noted in the back of her mind, she directed her wand at the vase, straightened her posture, and proclaimed softly, "Flipendo!"
A yellowish light ejected from her wand and hit the object square in its face. The momentum made it rock back and forth, spin around on its axis — and stop right at the edge of the table.
Hermione's face split into a grin. She had done it!
Judging by the sounds of other people, she deduced she was the first one to accomplish the trick, making her feel triumphant. But the first time wasn't always the charm. She righted the vase and repeated the process, coming out victorious again.
As vases fell around her, Hermione had practiced enough to master the spell, her little shoves becoming more and more minimal each time. She tested out other degrees of her strength with the jinx and excelled at them, too. She was confident she could now tackle anyone with it.
Feeling happy, she settled down in her booth and reached for the book she had brought along. It was about defensive spells, and Hermione had already reckoned she would be done before the others, so reading would pass the time as she'd wait for the others to catch up.
But passing the time was not her motive right now. Her thirst to become excellent at the subject was significantly vivid and she desired to learn a completely new spell, one that would actually prove to be really helpful.
Leafing through the pages, one spell caught her eye — the Shield Charm. Come to think of it, they had only learned attacking spells so far and not one that served as an actual defense. Hermione's studious spirit spiked up as she read about the charm. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as her eyes skimmed the way the charm was performed. The book was very helpful, but then again, the Room of Requirement knew her needs.
Casting the charm seemed easy enough. It created a literal shield from unfriendly spells and protected the wizard from them. Hermione was entranced by its function. She had never come across a shielding spell apart from the Patronus Charm.
She stood up and retrieved her wand from her pocket, determined to try the spell out.
"Protego." She practiced saying the incantation. "Protego."
Once ensured the pronunciation was correct, Hermione made the vase and the table disappear. She squared her shoulders and gazed at the booth's wall in front of her, contemplating her stance.
According to the book, a translucent shield would appear the moment you muttered the incantation. Positioning herself, Hermione stared an invisible counterpart down, lifted her wand arm, and yelled, "Protego!"
Nothing happened.
She tried again, imagining an invisible attacker ready to pounce. But her wand showed no movement. None of it.
"What am I doing wrong?" she said to herself, skimming the book. Truth be told, it only showed the basic wand movement and the incantation.
Shaking her head, Hermione made another attempt. Then another. Then another. Each time she failed miserably. She couldn't understand what or where the flaw was.
"This is useless!" she cried, almost throwing her wand on the ground.
"What's useless?"
Startled, Hermione spun around – to find Harry regarding her with a confused look.
"Oh. Hi, Harry," she said, feeling a little embarrassed by her childish behavior.
"Hey." He came into her booth with his evident confusion. "Where is your vase?"
"I'm done with the Flipendo jinx." She smiled confidently at him. "I achieved every objective...so I decided to move on to another spell."
"Oh, all right. Which one?"
"Protego. I mean, the Shield Charm." She picked up her book and showed him the relevant page. "Here. I want to learn some complicated spells, and this one caught my eye."
"I see. It's a useful spell."
"Very useful."
"But you're finding it difficult?"
"Yes!" She sighed, shaking her head. "I don't get it. I'm doing everything the book says, but I can't produce anything. Let alone a shield."
Harry grinned at her, making her mildly irritated. "I'm surprised you're finding something difficult."
"It is difficult!"
"Okay, okay. There must be something wrong with your strategy. Show me the book again."
Hermione did, and Harry evaluated its depiction of the Shield Charm with a focused expression. For a minute, complete silence surrounded them, save for the others' loud voices.
"I see your problem!"
Harry's shout was so sudden and abrupt that Hermione snapped out of her daze. She realized she was staring at him – rather shamelessly she might add – and the way his messy black hair almost reached his eyebrows when he looked down.
Flushed, she replied quickly, "What is it?"
"It's a trick." He smiled, shaking his head in disbelief. "These complicated spells and their tricks...no wonder it's not in the book."
"But before I tell you what it is, get in position first."
Hermione did as she was told, and Harry walked in a circle around her, observing her posture, the position of her arms, the angle of her head. She didn't look at him, but she could feel his eyes roaming up and down her body, making her nervous.
Her heart started pounding as he suddenly instructed in a soft tone from behind her, right in her ear.
"Pretend like you're actually gonna do it. Will make your stance better."
She had trouble obeying him this time. He was so close to her that she could feel his body heat, his wonderful scent, the aura that was only around him. It was like he was touching her without any physical contact, making her think unclearly.
But she managed to straighten her posture and jut her wand out more in her poised hand. He noted her from behind, his chin almost grazing her shoulder, her own scent and aura lingering around him.
Her heart jumped into her mouth when he suddenly reached forward and placed his hand on her arm to position it better. His touch felt like an electric shock going down her spine. The sudden intimacy was puzzling but rewarding all the same. She couldn't help but think...was he doing this on purpose?
No, he couldn't. He didn't pursue any direct partial feelings when he was with her. It must be a coincidence.
And a coincidence it was – for he had pulled himself away from her and continued with his observation. He wasn't looking at her the way a man would typically look at a woman – but was studying her in a strict, calculated manner. However, it made no difference to Hermione because Harry became more attractive to her in his teacher persona than he already was. She hated how breathless and jittery he made her feel...but secretly loved it, too.
But she was growing tired of his examination.
"Are you done yet?"
Instead of replying, Harry did something strange.
He attacked her.
"Stupefy!"
Without thinking, Hermione reacted quickly and yelled, "Protego!"
Only this time, the spell worked.
Astonished, Hermione watched a dazzling, translucent light materialize out of her wand and create a dome-like structure around her – a shield.
In the nick of time, the shield halted Harry's spell and repelled it back to him. He ducked down as the spell was about to hit him, avoiding it from inches. But when he got back up again, he was grinning.
"Good job, Hermione," he declared, lightly applauding, "You've done it. Five points to Gryffindor!"
It was a joke, of course, knowing that no five rubies fell down in the house records at his words.
But Hermione stared at him, transfixed. It took her some seconds to find her voice.
"Um...what happened?"
"A trick." Harry smiled, picking up the book again. He was clearly enjoying this. "The Protego Charm only works if you are about to be attacked. It is entirely based on your impulse."
Hermione's mouth dropped open. "So...it cannot be produced without an attack?"
"Nope. This is a shield charm, Hermione. Remember that." He flipped through the book before finding the page he was looking for. "Since it is purely a spell for your defense, it can only come out when you actually need it. You can even say it's a reaction, or a counterattack, while other spells can act as both." He held up the page for her to see. "So, this book is as useless as this charm is useful."
"Huh. That's...surreal."
Truth be told, Hermione was amazed to find so many hidden patterns and elements in this subject. But this also meant her theory was proven right – books were no help when it came to Defence Against the Dark Arts.
"Okay, but did you have to cast the Stunning Spell on me?" she asked Harry, who was busy reading the 'useless' book. "What if I couldn't figure out what to do and was rendered unconscious instead?"
At her question, he looked at her, closing the volume with a 'thud'. "Because I knew you'd understand what you had to do."
"You have that much faith in me?" She wanted to show annoyance, but her face betrayed her by cracking a smile. It was difficult to remain vexed at Harry.
The betrayal increased as he smiled back at her. "Of course! And I have faith in your logical brain. It always knows what to do."
"Well..." She smiled, shaking her head. "Thank you. You're a really great teacher."
He laughed, making her smile wider. "I just try not to fail."
He handed her book back to her. "Here. It may not explain tricks, but it's useful all the same."
"Yes. So useful that I could only produce the spell with your help," she said, smirking at him. "Just say it, okay?"
"Er...say what?"
"That reading books doesn't help with Defence Against the Dark Arts." She sighed. "I know. I'm beginning to understand –"
"Oh no, Hermione," he interrupted, his green eyes widening behind his glasses. "That was just one spell. I'm not an expert at books, but I'm sure they'd come in handy, even if Umbridge insists on learning from them. Let's be real, sometimes even a toad can croak out the truth."
Hermione laughed at his silly joke, brightening up her mood. Harry's stupid sense of humor was really one of the reasons why she liked him so much.
"Okay, professor," she teased him, "I've learned a lot from you today. Now, don't you have other students to tend to?"
Harry groaned sarcastically. "Yeah, I guess I do. They're really slow on the uptake, y'know? Between you and me, I think you're smarter than all of them combined."
She giggled. "You don't mean that."
"Of course I do." He grinned. "I bet if I tried that Protego trick, more than half of them would be lying unconscious in their booths." His face twisted in mock horror. "I hope they didn't hear me."
"I'm sure you're fine." She chuckled again. Her laughter caused movement, which caused a strand to come loose from her ponytail and fall upon her face.
To her surprise, Harry reached forward and tucked it behind her ear before she could. He didn't pull away and instead looked at her with an indecipherable expression.
Hermione was baffled, but Harry interrupted her chain of thoughts.
"I mean it, Hermione. You are the best at this subject. I've seen you poring over books and trying hard to excel in it."
"Oh..." She lowered her gaze in embarrassment. "You've noticed that?"
"Of course, but trust me, you don't have to prove anyone. You are the brightest here and everyone knows it." He sighed, lightly tracing her hair strand. "I'm just saying... don't burn yourself out too much, okay?"
Hermione nodded and looked up to meet his eyes. Harry cared for her so much and it felt so sweet. Uttering a simple thank-you didn't seem enough. She wanted to kiss him.
But that option wasn't available.
"Thanks, Harry," she said, smiling at him. "You always know how to cheer me up."
He smiled back. "Yeah. It's my duty, y'know?"
She just sighed in reply and basked in the sweet silence as he softly grazed her hair. She loved gazing at him, especially when he was gazing right back. His expression was still unreadable, but he was obviously looking out for her...
"Harry!"
The sudden yell almost made them jump out of their skins.
It was Cho. She sounded breathless as she went on. "Where were you? I was searching..."
Her voice trailed off as she took in the scene before her. It appeared as if Harry was touching Hermione's cheek from her view. The minimal distance between them didn't improve the image...
Sensing the danger, Harry drew his arm back, but Cho narrowed her eyes and jutted out her lower lip all the same.
"What are you doing here?"
"Um..helping my student?"
She scoffed, her raven black hair swaying behind her. "Wow. I never knew helping your student required so much intimacy."
"What is your problem? He was literally just teaching me something!" Hermione burst out before she could stop herself. She hated how Cho treated Harry and how she would make big deals out of petty situations. Hermione knew he didn't say anything out of fear that Cho would get ticked off at him. But on the contrary, Hermione had nothing to lose.
It was clear her words had affected the other girl, but Cho's face shifted from angry to sweet in a blink of an eye.
"I'm struggling with the Flipendo charm, Harry. Please help me out?" she said to him, batting her eyelashes innocently while completely ignoring Hermione as if she wasn't standing right there, or worse yet, was something nasty stuck under her shoe.
Harry was vacillating. "Yes, sure. But –"
"Okay, I'll wait for you. You can come when the class is over," Cho interrupted with a tight smile. Hermione was strongly reminded of Umbridge.
Something mixed with resentment and jealousy spurred inside Hermione, and she turned to Harry with an amused expression, ignoring Cho as if she didn't exist. "You're telling me that people are still struggling with an easy, no-brainer spell like the Knockback Jinx?! I didn't think some people could be that dumb."
Harry smiled sheepishly. "Well, everyone has different learning capa –"
"I think we should leave, Harry. You're wasting your time here," Cho snapped, her almond brown eyes raging with anger. "People who think they're so smart should be left alone."
"And people who make big deals out of nothing should get a life!" Hermione shot back, the cold war between them maddening her.
This time, Cho didn't retort. She just glared at Hermione, then said in an irritated yet whiny voice. "I'm leaving. I don't need the teacher anyway."
With that, she turned around and left, her little sobs audible from the aisle.
Harry sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, Hermione. She is just so –"
"Oh no. Why are you apologizing?" Hermione interrupted, looking at him with wide eyes. "You don't owe me an apology, and if someone does, it's her."
"I don't understand why you two don't like each other."
"She probably doesn't like me because I'm your best friend," Hermione said, rolling her eyes, "and I don't like her because she's horr–" She stopped, catching her slip, "I mean, so wearisome. I can't imagine how you put up with her."
"By trying to please her, that's how," said Harry, "She's very sensitive. One wrong step and she'd..."
He made an exploding expression from his hands.
Hermione laughed. "I can see that."
She was tempted to ask him why he was with her, even though she clearly made him unhappy. But that was a conversation for a different time, she decided.
Right now, she could only wish that Harry would come back to his senses.
"Well, I should go," he declared.
"See you."
He nodded and went for the aisle outside. But before he left, he turned around and smiled at her. "And for the record, I don't think smart people should be left alone."
She grinned. "And I don't think people who love getting into trouble should be left alone."
"You mean brave people, right?"
"Hmm, I think so," she smirked at him.
They both laughed. Harry then finally bade her goodbye and left to guide Cho and the others.
In his absence, Hermione leaned against a booth wall and sighed, reminiscing everything that had happened. She could feel something...blooming between them. Something that she longed for. Something she desired.
But even if it was false hope, she could dream, couldn't she?
