The leaving feast, Hermione reflected, had an unusual atmosphere about it. Part of it felt incredibly tense, while part of it felt joyous and celebratory.
The cause of the tense feeling was obvious. Despite all she'd done to help Slytherin towards the House Cup, somehow, Slytherin and Ravenclaw were tied. No one seemed to know what to do about this – no one had realized until they'd walked into the Great Hall and seen both banners hanging, both houses' colors hanging on the walls, clashing with each other.
Jade was furious.
"This is all because of Malfoy's stupid nighttime excursions, the constant fighting in the halls, and Flint's abrupt fight club out there," she hissed, glaring at Flint. "I can't believe you picked a fight right in front of the teachers."
Marcus Flint just grinned at her, his jaw still purpleing and bruised, and flipped her the bird.
"Wasn't my fault," he said. "Blame the Weasley snot. I'd do it again."
He shot Hermione a grin, and Hermione rolled her eyes.
The others, however, seemed more okay with this odd tie. The Ravenclaw house was exchanging teasing remarks with the Slytherins, which Hermione hadn't expected. The two House tables were next to each other, but it was funny to see the older students teasing each other. Hermione was surprised to see that Ravenclaw seemed fine with the tie; she wondered if it was because Ravenclaw, in the end, didn't really care who won the House Cup. Unless it directly impacted their studies, Ravenclaws didn't seem to be fazed by much.
There was a sudden hush in the room, and then everybody started talking loudly. Hermione realized that Harry had entered the room, finally out of the Hospital wing, and a lot of people were standing up and trying to get a look at him. Hermione winced – that had to be awkward for him.
Hermione went over to the Gryffindor table, offering him a smile, which Harry gratefully returned. She picked up a roll, while Harry settled himself in.
"How bad is it?" Harry asked wryly, looking to Neville and Hermione. "Has the rumor mill gotten it right? Am I going to be accused of murdering our teacher flat-out?"
He gave them a half-hearted smile, trying for humor, but Hermione could hear the real worry behind his tone.
"They've got it mostly right," Hermione said, considering. "The main points are all there – Quirrell was host to Lord Voldemort, went after Dumbledore's treasure in an attempt to return himself to life, and you risked your life and stopped him yourself. Everyone knows Quirrell's dead, and I think most people know that Lord Voldemort escaped as a shade, too."
The unusual accuracy of the rumor mill was largely due to Hermione's public factual recounting of the adventure in the Slytherin common room. The Slytherins would have hid their source, but they would have spread the story to their friends in other houses, who in turn would have passed it on.
"People aren't talking about that as much, now," Neville said darkly. "Everyone's talking about Ron."
Hermione winced, and Harry looked puzzled.
"Ron?" Harry asked. He looked around, craning his head. "Where is Ron?"
"He's not here," Hermione said quickly. "He, um, got detention, so he's cleaning out the classrooms with Filch…"
"Detention?" Harry said incredulously. "For the leaving feast?"
"What Hermione isn't saying," Neville said, giving Hermione a pointed look, "is Ron got detention for screaming at her after the Quidditch game."
"What?"
Hermione winced, but Neville went into it, recounting everything Ron had said, every name he'd called her and every insult he'd thrown her way. Neville's voice got heated and vehement as he continued, his eyes hard.
"-and then he accused her of being a fake friend who would betray us, putting you in the Hospital wing on purpose, and said she didn't belong at Hogwarts and she might as well leave!"
Hermione's chest was tight. She was looking at the table, gradually shredding the roll in her hands into little tiny pieces as she blinked rapidly. She wasn't sure why – it wasn't like she was going to be able to eat any of the wisps of bread she pulled free. It was just… hearing everything Ron said again… but this time, her Slytherin friends across the room…
"Hermione."
Harry's voice was commanding, and Hermione instinctively jerked her head up, her gaze meeting Harry's. His green eyes were hard, alight, and he looked angry. Hermione had to fight the urge to flinch backwards.
"Hermione, you and Neville are my best friends," he said fiercely. "Ron is a friend too, but he might not even be that anymore – not after saying that sort of thing to you. That is not okay."
Hermione bit her lip hard, trying to hold back any sort of emotional outburst. She felt like she wanted to burst into tears.
Harry, perceptive as he was, saw through it immediately.
"Come here," he said, and Hermione flew around the table to give him a proper hug, which Harry returned. They both lingered, longer than a usual hug, but Hermione needed the reassurance – both the physical reassurance that Harry was okay, that he was out of the Hospital Wing, as well as the emotional reassurance that he was her friend, that he still liked her, that he wasn't going to throw her away. Harry didn't seem to mind; he tried to pat and stroke her back, but ended up kind of drumming on her ribs, and Hermione was laughing when she pulled back. Harry looked embarrassed but happy.
"I don't have much experience comforting upset girls," he told her, and Hermione laughed.
"Well, I'm glad you made the effort to try," she replied, and Harry shot her a grin.
There was a sudden hush in the hall, before murmurs broke out, and Hermione looked up, seeing that Dumbledore had just arrived.
"I better go!" she whispered, and she darted across the hall to retake her seat amongst the Slytherins.
"Potter okay?" Draco drawled, raising a judgmental eyebrow.
Hermione ignored his tone.
"Yes. He's furious about what Weasley did on the Quidditch pitch," she remarked, her tone casual. "Might not even be his friend after today."
Draco's face broke into a satisfied smirk, and Hermione ignored him to settle her robes around her and turn to face the head table with the others, where Dumbledore had clapped his hands loudly to get everyone's attention.
"Another year gone!" Dumbledore said cheerfully. "And I must trouble you with an old man's wheezing waffle before we finish this feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were… you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts…"
Hermione made a face, and she rolled her eyes at Theo, who rolled his eyes back at her. What was the point of learning everything if you just forgot it all?
"Now, as I understand it, the House Cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third place, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; and Ravenclaw and Slytherin both tied in the lead, at four hundred sixty-two."
There was a murmur as everyone looked around. A tie had never been heard of.
"Yes, yes, well done everyone," said Dumbledore. "However, recent events must be taken into account."
The room went very still. Hermione blinked. The term was over – what was left to award points for?
"Ahem," said Dumbledore. "I have a few last-minute points to dish out. Let me see. Yes…"
"First – to Mr. Neville Longbottom…"
There was a loud gasp, and Neville, trembling, stood up at the Gryffindor table. There was a murmur through the crowd.
"…for staying to help his friends out of a tangled situation, I award Gryffindor House fifty points."
The Gryffindors started cheering. Fifty points! Such numbers were rarely heard of – Hermione had only managed it once early in the term by breaking Dumbledore's Transfiguration record. And Neville had earned fifty in one go! And tangled situation – that could only refer to Neville's aptitude with the Devil's Snare.
At last there was silence again.
"Second – to Mr. Ronald Weasley… for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."
The Gryffindors were losing themselves, bouncing in their seats – they were suddenly a hundred points up. Hermione felt an abrupt sinking sensation in her stomach as she realized what was about to happen. Hermione craned her neck, trying to catch Snape's eye, but he was too busy glaring at McGonagall.
"Third – to Mr. Harry Potter…"
The room went deadly quiet, and Hermione felt a hot anger spark inside of her. If Dumbledore was going to do this nonsense, he should do it right.
"…for pure nerve and outstanding courage…"
Hermione swore, reached inside of her, and whispered, "Ventus."
"…I award Gryffindor House sixty points."
The din was deafening. Those who could add up while yelling now knew that Gryffindor was in the lead – exactly ten points over Ravenclaw and Slytherin. The Ravenclaws, who certainly could add, looked insulted that Gryffindor was about to win over them, while the Slytherins looked mutinous.
Hermione twitched her wand, and the gust of wind circled Snape's head, mussing his hair. Snape's head turned rapidly, looking for the culprit, and she kept the spell up until his eyes landed on hers.
She pointed to herself, gesturing frantically, and Snape's eyes widened.
"And if my addition serves me right—" Dumbledore said loudly, over the cheers. The Gryffindors, however, refused to quiet down, and Hermione watched as Snape quietly moved to behind Dumbledore, whispering something in his ear, and Dumbledore stopped, as if frozen in place.
Very slowly, Dumbledore turned his blue eyes to her.
Hermione was not sure that Dumbledore had ever really seen her before, but he was looking at her now. He was looking at her with the look of someone who had almost solved a puzzle, all save one last piece that refused to just quite fit in. He kept glancing from Harry to her, from her to Harry, up to the banners hanging over each house. His blue eyes were piercing, almost accusing, and Hermione felt a rush of comprehension.
Dumbledore didn't know she was in Slytherin.
It was an abrupt realization. But as soon as she thought it, she had rationalized it. Of course he wouldn't know she was in Slytherin – why would he? She was one of any number of Slytherins, and he couldn't keep track of all the students in his school. She'd never gotten in trouble, so she'd never been sent to his office (if Hogwarts even worked like that), and she was only a lowly first year. She doubted the Headmaster even knew who she was. Still…
Her mind flickered back over the past year. Although she'd studied with the Ravenclaws, in public, she was often alongside Harry, Ron, and Neville, sometimes even in the Gryffindor common room with them. If the Headmaster had only been paying attention to Harry… had he just assumed her to be some sort of sidekick to Harry's hero?
Dumbledore was looking back at Snape with a sharp look, and Snape was giving Dumbledore an oily smile in return. Hermione's heart had stopped beating. Had Dumbledore trapped himself into doing what Hermione thought he was about to do?
Dumbledore held up a hand, and the hall fell quiet once more.
"It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies," Dumbledore said, smiling. But Hermione could see through it now - his smile was just a bit pinched, the sparkle in his eyes gone. "But it can be even harder to keep a calm head. For the use of cool logic in the face of fire… I award fifty points to Miss Hermione Granger."
The change was dramatic.
The yells and moans of loud objections of the Gryffindors were drowned out by the cheers and screams of triumph of the Slytherins. Gone was the carefully-cultivated pureblood sense of decorum – students were banging on the table with their goblets and stamping their feet. Hermione had a moment to see that the Ravenclaws were cheering too, many of them grinning at Hermione specifically, before she was nearly tackled by Jade, who had thrown her arms around her.
"We won-!"
"Which means," Dumbledore called over the din, "we need a change of decoration."
He clapped his hands, and in an instant the Ravenclaw hangings vanished, and huge Slytherin serpents now decorated the room, the hall clad in silver and green. Professor McGonagall was glaring at Snape, who was giving her an oily smile, and Hermione couldn't help but laugh.
"I was determined to have Slytherin win the House Cup all seven years of my education here," Jade told Hermione seriously, hugging her again. "And we almost lost it! You saved us-! You saved our legacy!"
Hermione thought that Jade was going a bit overboard, but her classmates were still cheering and whistling, and even Theo was grinning – Theo, who rarely grinned. Draco was banging his cup, and Blaise was whistling, and all the girls were still yelling and hugging each other in celebration.
Still, though…
The look Dumbledore had given her, like he'd suddenly seen her, gave Hermione an uneasy feeling the rest of the feast.