I was very sleep-deprived while proofreading this, so please excuse if it's a messy job.
Chapter Three: Invitation
The day after Hermione's thrilling nighttime adventure, Neville Longbottom was missed at breakfast. When he didn't show for morning lessons, a search of Gryffindor Tower confirmed that he had in fact disappeared. All of the faculty were in an uproar, with Professor Dumbledore even looking uncharacteristically grim as he announced that Neville would be found posthaste and returned to safety.
Days later, that didn't seem to be the case.
"I heard he left a note," Cho said one day as a sleeting rain lashed against the windows of the lounge. Quidditch practice had been cancelled, and with nothing better to do, she had joined Harry and Hermione during their usual study session, which had proven so far to be something of a remedial lesson for her.
Unfortunately, it was also rather distracting to Harry himself, who seemed almost a different person today. Around Hermione, he was quite at ease, smiled often, and joked readily; but with Cho in the mix, he had said perhaps a total of ten words during the entire study session. His eyes downcast, he kept sneaking furtive looks at Cho, who was either oblivious or almost brutally ignoring the poor boy. On the one hand, Hermione ached with sympathy for what was obviously a boy nursing his first ever crush.
On the other hand, she was grateful to Cho for doing her level best to steer Harry in her direction.
"Harry, did you hear anything about the note?" Cho asked after a silence that dragged on almost long enough to become uncomfortable. Harry had been picking thoughtfully at a fray on the cuff of his jumper, but when Cho addressed him directly, he jolted, almost spilling his ink bottle before deftly catching it.
"Uh…" he trailed off. "McGonagall's the one that found it. So no one got a chance to see what it says. I think he was just telling off everyone for thinking he put his name in."
"Well…didn't he?" Cho asked, looking puzzled.
"Neville wouldn't do that," Harry insisted. "Plus, somehow the Goblet thinks there's four schools in a Triwizard Tournament? That's shady, and that's not something a fourth-year could do."
"Okay, not trying to imply anything," Cho told him with dubious laugh. "Hermione's already told me all the reasons there's no way Neville could have done it himself. She's pretty smart."
"Oh, I'm—well, maybe I am," Hermione admitted, "but that's simply because I'm well-read and excellent at gathering information and making connections that others don't necessarily see – "
"Just accept the compliment, you dafty," Harry said with a small laugh, and Hermione pouted at him.
"What did you just call me?" she asked with mock affront. "How dare you!"
"Oi, you're the one that was gear to start an elf revolution the other night," Harry shot back. "I think that qualifies for 'dafty' status."
"That does not make me a dafty, Harry Potter," Hermione insisted. "I'm…passionate."
"The two are definitely not mutually exclusive," Harry pointed out, and Hermione rolled her eyes, shooting a look at Cho—only to find her looking unduly amused at the pair.
"What?" Hermione asked, and Cho's smile only widened at her tone. "Cho, what?"
"Nothing, Hermione, nothing," she said. "Only, I've just remembered I actually told Ced I'd help him with his Potions essay. He's rubbish at it, you know."
"You're going to see Cedric?" Harry asked, and Cho nodded.
"Look after Hermione for me, won't you?" she asked him. "She tends to forget basic needs when left to her own devices, after all."
"I've only skipped meals a few times, Cho," Hermione insisted. "It's not as though I starve myself just to finish an essay."
"Well – "
"Didn't you say you have to go?" Hermione cut her off. Flashing her a wink, Cho stood, collecting her things.
"It was nice hanging out, Harry," she said. "Let's do this again sometime."
"Uh, absolutely," Harry said. "Yeah, um…good talking, Cho."
As she left, Harry stared after her, looking a bit forlorn but also quite resigned.
"She's quite taken with Cedric, isn't she?" he observed. Hermione felt a pang at his morose tone. A first crush was a powerful thing; she knew this better than anyone, going through her own as she was. Imagining something similar—with Cho perhaps happily single and pursuing a relationship instead with Harry—was a painful thing, and Harry was having to live it out.
Granted, a small part of her was glad that Cho wasn't so happily single so she didn't have to endure the pain herself, but more strongly present was an ache that she couldn't quite place. Harry was hurting, and there was nothing she could really do to help him.
Or maybe…there was… If only she presented him with an alternative.
…
Later that evening, a resolved Hermione marched into the Ravenclaw common room, squaring her shoulders and striding over to Cho. This went completely against every personal belief she held, but perhaps this was a glimpse into the mindset of the girls of those movies she had once derided. She and Harry had after all just had a discussion over making a few changes for personal reasons rather than to impress anyone, yet here she was, blurring the lines between the two.
Maybe things were different when there was a real connection happening.
"Woah, Hermione's on the warpath," Marietta observed as Hermione flung herself into a seat opposite Cho. Looking up, Cho fixed her with a very slightly smug look, almost as though she were expecting the next words out of Hermione's mouth.
"I need help figuring out…makeup," Hermione said.
"…What?" Marietta muttered, punctuated by the sound of a book snapping shut.
"And maybe a hair potion or two," Hermione added.
"…What?" Marietta repeated.
"Just—nothing extreme, I only feel maybe it would be nice to…put a small bit more attention into my appearance," Hermione muttered, feeling her face heat up.
"You've got it bad for this boy," Cho said, giggling a bit. "Are you sure you want to take this step? Change yourself for a boy?"
"I'm not changing myself," Hermione insisted. "I'm…accentuating what's already there."
"Still, this is a big step for you," Marietta added, looking some combination of gobsmacked and intrigued at the development. "Hermione Granger, interested in a boy, enough to start gussying up for him and all."
"It's not that odd," Hermione muttered, and Cho shrugged.
"It sort of is," she said. "You've always been rather…focused on your studies."
"Yeah, so much it's a bit scary sometimes," Marietta said. "This Harry must be something else."
"He is rather handsome, in fact," Cho said with a wink at Hermione. "Quiet, mysterious."
Oh, he's just tremendously awkward, is all, Hermione mused to herself. "There's more to him than just a good-looking face," she insisted, and Cho giggled.
"Listen to you," she said. "I know, I know. I saw you two carrying on today; he likes you a lot."
"How—d'you think so?" Hermione asked, her heart thudding as she leaned forward. "How can you tell?"
"Well, he was playing it all quiet and aloof and disinterested until he started having a go at you," Cho told her. "Clearly, he feels comfortable being himself around you. And that's pretty much the most important thing in a boyfriend or girlfriend. If they don't feel like they can be themselves around you, well, you're not really getting to know them, are you?"
"That's an excellent point," Hermione admitted, feeling her face heat up at the prospect of Harry reciprocating her feelings. Could he? She wasn't exactly knowledgeable in this sort of thing, but what Cho was saying made a certain sort of sense. Harry was by all accounts withdrawn and aloof—except around her. "But…he doesn't really seem interested."
"Maybe he doesn't even know how he feels," Marietta pointed out. "He's a boy, after all. They're not great with feelings."
"Cedric's great with feelings," Cho said.
"Cedric's a man," Marietta said with a grin. "He's grown up, he's got it all figured out. You're dating older. Hermione's chasing someone younger."
"Not that much younger," Hermione grumbled. "In a few years, it won't even make much of a difference."
"But it makes one now," Marietta pointed out. "If you want this to make any progress at all, you can't wait on him to figure it all out and take the first steps. You need to get aggressive. Go on the offensive."
"You make it sound like a war effort," Hermione said in confusion.
"It is," Marietta said fervently. "Against his utter obliviousness. Do you want Harry to be your boyfriend?"
"Don't say it so loudly – "
"Do you?" Marietta asked, and Hermione huffed.
"Yes," she admitted in a mutter.
"Then show him your intentions," Marietta said. "I mean, don't declare them or anything, but leave him no choice but to notice how good you look and how available you are and how much he'd be missing out on if he doesn't date you right this second."
Hermione shot a glance at Cho, hoping to commiserate over how intensely serious Marietta was taking this whole thing—only to find Cho nodding along matter-of-factly. Quailing under the intensity of their matching stares, she voiced the niggling little fear in the back of her head.
"But what if he doesn't think I'm pretty?" she asked.
"Aw, Hermione," Cho said in warm tones. "Trust me, the boy is already into you. He just hasn't caught up to himself yet. And if you want to catch his notice by…glamming up just a bit, that's wonderful!"
"First thing's first," Marietta said. "We need to order you some Sleekeazy's Shampoo and Conditioner."
"Oh, I've been wanting to try to convince you to try that for ages," Cho said. "This is the perfect opportunity. And maybe also a bit of mascara and just a dab of eyeliner."
"Blush?" Marietta asked, now scooting closer.
"Perhaps something very light," Cho nodded while peering closely at Hermione. "Honestly, she's got a lot to work with already, we'd only need to apply something quite natural to highlight her features."
"Ugh, makeup," Hermione grumbled, and Cho rolled her eyes.
"Oh, relax," she said. "It's not about making you look completely different or anything, just emphasizing what's already there. And if you hate it, we can wash it off."
"Well—that's true," Hermione sighed. "Alright, let's give it a go."
"Yes!" Cho cheered, springing to her feet and snagging up Hermione's hands. "Come along, let's find a good look for you, and then tomorrow you can go and stun him!"
"Lovely," Hermione muttered.
Sadly for Hermione, there was no montage to condense the next couple of hours down to a minutes-long series of shots of different makeup looks, most likely set to a Cyndi Lauper song or something by David Bowie perhaps. Rather than feeling particularly Pretty In Pink, this felt more like what one of the actors must have had to go through, spending hours in a makeup chair while being assaulted by two chittering girls who treated her as though she were some sort of stylist's dummy.
Well…okay, it was also rather fun, she had to admit. Even in their girly moments, Cho and Marietta were still her very best friends, and perhaps it was high time she got in touch with her feminine side rather than scoff and sneer at things such as makeup and fashion.
There was no rule against being a bookworm and looking good while she did it, after all.
"You know, Hermione, this look really suits you," Cho said after much too many applications and removals of makeup—the "gentle" scouring spell was beginning to leave Hermione's skin a bit tingly and raw-feeling after the dozenth application. "It's understated but still highlights what it needs to."
She held up a mirror, and Hermione peered back at her own face, which looked…different in a rather unplaceable way. There was certainly a change, but it was hard to pin down. Her eyes were more… And her face was a bit… All of it was framed of course by softly-flowing locks of wavy hair that Hermione couldn't believe were her own; Cho had sent her to the shower first thing with a bottle of the promised Sleekeazy's, having borrowed some from Lisa Turpin. It had taken a generous portion and two lathers and rinses, but Hermione's hair was the most manageable it had ever been. It had been all she could do not to tear up as she'd run a comb through it. Curse her stubbornness for having never gone this avenue before! Not only was her hair quite better-looking, but it was so much easier to handle this way!
"The shampoo is definitely getting worked into my shower routine," she admitted, and Cho snickered.
"I have been telling you for years, you silly thing!" she said. "But what do you think of the makeup? It's brilliant, isn't it?"
"It…barely looks like I'm wearing any," Hermione said.
"That's it, though," Marietta said. "That's the hard bit. The natural look can be a bit tricky, but when you pull it off, it doesn't look like makeup, it's just your face with a bit more…"
"A bit more," Cho nodded. Her hands came up to Hermione's shoulders, and she leaned down to peer in the mirror behind her. "I think this is it. This is the look, Mari."
"I agree, for sure," Marietta said with a decisive nod. "I'll set the makeup kit to this look, Hermione, so all you have to do is give it a tap with your wand and let it get to work."
"It feels like I'm compromising some long-held moral standpoint," Hermione muttered.
"Boys'll do that to you," Cho said breezily. "And, really, it's makeup. It's not as though you're skipping classes or…sneaking about at night with him."
Hermione's face heated up at those words, and the makeup wasn't thick enough to hide the blush blooming on her cheeks. Cho, of course, spotted it in the mirror, her eyes going wide.
"Hermione!?" she squawked. "Did you!?"
"Only once, and it was an accident!" Hermione insisted. Quickly, she explained her unbidden nap in the student lounge and her subsequent after-curfew escapades with Harry, editing out mentions of his cloak and the strange parchment. Those seemed like secrets of his and not hers to divulge. Cho and Marietta listened raptly, Cho's smile only growing wider while Marietta's expression was one of pure shock.
"Hermione, you were out after curfew with a BOY!" she gasped. "Cho, I think this one's the real deal."
"He's certainly breaking down barriers in ways we've never been able to," Cho agreed. "What a scandal."
"Does he smell nice?" Marietta asked with a knowing grin. Hermione frowned but heaved a small sigh.
"He smells amazing," she admitted, and the two girls broke into cackles, Cho wrapping her arms around Hermione in a hug.
"I'm so happy for you," she said. "You deserve a bit of romance for once."
"…Yes," Hermione said with a little smile to herself. "Perhaps I do."
000
The next morning, Hermione awoke and went about her potential new morning routine, which involved following up a quick tooth-brushing and a much less bothersome combing of her hair with a simple tap of her wand on the makeup kit in front of the vanity mirror set up near her bed. Holding as still as she was able, she let the various little brushes and balms do their thing, applying a layer of rather natural-looking makeup. Studying her reflection, she took a deep breath.
"Looking quite lovely this morning, dearie," her mirror spoke to her, and despite herself, she felt a bit emboldened.
Down at breakfast, Padma looked up and let a small gasp as Hermione walked by.
"Wow, Hermione, you look great!" she said.
"Oh, um—thank you," Hermione said, feeling her face flush. "Just…trying something new."
"Your hair!" Lisa said. "I love it."
"This wouldn't happen to be for the benefit of anyone in particular, would it?" Padma asked. "Perhaps…Har – "
"Well, see you later!" Hermione cut across her, hurrying away and leaving the two girls giggling behind her.
As the day drew on, Hermione garnered several more appreciative looks, compliments from girls she'd barely ever spoken to, and matching whistles from the Weasley twins.
"Looking good, Granger!"
"Our seeker's got fine taste!"
That got quite a blush out of her.
The one she'd been waiting for, however, happened as she was heading down for lunch. Cho and Marietta were coming from Muggle Studies, while Hermione had had Ancient Runes, meaning she was alone as she passed by the Transfiguration classroom when Harry came striding out. His eyes (ever alert, it seemed) scanned over the corridor, passing over her and then doing a small double take.
"Granger," he said, passing through the crowd with liquid ease and pausing near her. He wore a calculating expression on his face as he peered down at her, and Hermione found she couldn't meet his eyes during the scrutiny. "Your hair's different. And you've makeup on."
"Do you like it?" Hermione blurted before she could stop herself. Harry focused on her for another moment, apparently really considering her question.
"It looks nice," he seemingly decided. "The, er…eye stuff makes your eyes pop. What's that stuff called, sounds like an Italian sauce?"
"Mascara?" Hermione asked with a giggle.
"Doesn't that sound like something you'd have over noodles?" Harry asked, now walking with her toward the Great Hall. Hermione gave it a moment of thought before nodding very slightly.
"Once you divorce it from the context, it does sort of sound like a sauce," she said. "I would not advise having fettuccini mascara, though."
"That's what the salons want you to say," Harry said. "They're hiding it from us."
"I'm sure that's the case," Hermione said flatly. "They know it's the best pasta topping, but they want to boggart it for silly things such as makeup."
"I'm glad you understand," Harry said with a grave nod. Snorting out a little laugh, Hermione shook her head as they descended the stairs, glancing over to see him studying her. "So…why the sudden change?"
"I suppose I just wanted to do something different," Hermione said with a shrug, hoping to come off as casual and not like she was trying some attempt to woo him with her wiles.
Even if she was.
"Well…looks nice, like I said," Harry told her. "Oh, by the way. Got a pickup game against Slytherin this weekend. Weasley's the keeper. Would you want to come and watch?"
"Are you sure you want the flying coach of one of you rivals watching you play?" Hermione asked with a quirk of her eyebrow. Harry rolled his eyes, fixing her with his crooked smile.
"No, I want a friend of mine to come and watch me fly, because I'm actually quite good at it," he said.
"We're friends?" Hermione asked, and Harry looked at her as though she were mad.
"Of course," he said. "We've dodged Kowalski and gone skulking 'round at night. That's a bond, right there."
Hermione felt a huge grin split her face, and she ducked her head, peering up at Harry through her fringe. "Well…I suppose I'll be there to watch you amaze me with your flying prowess."
"I daresay you'll be impressed," Harry told her. "Anyway, I've got to track down Angelina before lunch, so see you 'round? We're studying…tomorrow night, yeah?"
"That's right," she said. "Has Professor Vector noticed anything?"
"She said it's about time I got a tutor," Harry chuckled. "I believe she's aware I don't really have what it takes to excel at the subject on my own."
"You mean motivation?" Hermione asked.
"That's the one," Harry said, pointing at her. "Well, see you, Hermione."
"Bye," Hermione said, wiggling her fingers in a small wave as Harry split off from her on the second floor. Still fighting quite a big smile, she moved to cross the Entrance Hall, only to hear an unpleasant laugh as she passed by a group of Gryffindors.
"…finally realized she could only get him if she caked on some makeup and did something about that nest on her head," Parvati's voice spoke in a mutter that seemed rather deliberately louder than necessary.
"Look at her, she's unrecognizable," Lavender giggled. "At least now she actually has a chance, I suppose."
Feeling her face heat up, Hermione made to pick up her pace, though she heard a small but powerful voice speak up behind her.
"If you lot are done being a bunch of harpies, could you get out of the way!? Oh! Hermione!"
Pausing near the door, Hermione turned and saw a small figure emerging from within the cluster of Gryffindor girls, who were watching her with distaste. Shoving and barging her way forth, a girl of perhaps twelve moved briskly toward Hermione, a smaller girl hurrying in her wake.
"Hey!" she said to Hermione with a bright and toothy smile. "You look really good! Did you do something with your hair?"
"Um…yes," Hermione said to the small one. "Who are – "
"Would you like to sit with us?" the strange girl asked, both of them now flanking Hermione as they ushered her toward the Great Hall. Behind her, Hermione heard Lavender scoff, and Hermione's apparent new friend sneered, rolling her eyes.
"There," she said in lower tones. "Now you've got one up on them."
"Who – "
"Daisy Potter," the girl answered the unasked question. Hermione jolted in realization at the name. "Harry's little sister."
The resemblance was uncanny, now that Hermione was looking; both had messy black hair, almond-shaped eyes, and a mischievous air about them. Daisy's eyes were a bright hazel rather than green, however, and she bore a small smattering of youthful freckles across her nose that Harry lacked.
Her companion couldn't possibly be relation, however. In fact, given her strawberry-blonde hair and powder-blue eyes (not to mention quite a few more freckles than her companion), Hermione wanted to guess that she was a member of the Weasley brood, but she was pretty sure there was only one girl—Ginny Weasley, who was a third-year.
"This is Mafalda Prewett," Daisy said, noticing Hermione's scrutiny. "I saved her from bullies, and now we're best friends."
"Uh-huh!" the girl named Mafalda said, her voice so perky and energetic that everything she said sounded absolutely excitable. "Are you really Harry's girlf – "
"Mafalda, what have I told you?" Daisy asked with wide eyes. "On the way down here, I told you not to use that word."
"You sure did!" Mafalda said with a bright grin as she skipped along.
"She's actually lovely," Daisy said to Hermione. "She just doesn't internalize that well."
"Sit with us at Gryffindor!" Mafalda breezed on. "We're sitting with Harry!"
"Oh, um…I suppose I could do that," Hermione said with a glance toward her usual spot at the Ravenclaw table. Cho and Marietta were looking at her with matching smiles, so she decided she wouldn't be overly missed. Cho in particular was looking exceedingly proud, likely aware of exactly who these two little urchins were.
A bit of warning might have been nice; after four years of friendship, Cho should have most certainly been aware of Hermione's complete lack of social awareness.
Taking a seat at the Gryffindor table, Hermione felt her face heat up under the weight of so many unfamiliar stares. While Harry carried only a small bit of clout throughout the school, his reputation to his fellow Gryffindors as their aloof star seeker clearly held substantially more weight, and being seen in the company of his younger sister was drawing no small bit of attention.
"Oi, Granger!"
"Alright?"
Down the table, the Weasley twins were waving energetically, and Hermione waved back with a smile.
"Afternoon, boys," she called.
The twins set about muttering to each other, chuckling and occasionally nudging their friend, who Hermione knew as Lee Jordan, the quidditch commentator. All three seemed amused at her presence, though at least not in any mean-spirited way. Hermione distinctly caught the phrase "'bout time he got a girl" floating down the table. Nearby, Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet were quick to chide the boys for their gossiping.
"So, quickly, before he gets here," Daisy said, piling some food on her plate, "what are your intentions with my brother?"
"…What?" Hermione asked, and Daisy tutted her. The little thing actually tutted her.
"Do you want to be his girlfriend?" she asked as though the question were patently obvious. "Is that why you're going for a different look?"
"Well—it's for me, too," Hermione sniffed. "But…perhaps, a bit."
"I like it," Mafalda said earnestly. "You look very pretty."
"Thank you, Mafalda," Hermione said, and Mafalda beamed at her.
"And you're aware that he's mooning over that friend of yours?" Daisy went on, completely ignoring Mafalda's interruption. "Cho Chang?"
"Yes, he seems very…taken with her," Hermione said.
"Ugh, it's repulsive," Daisy said distastefully. "Well, she isn't, I mean. But he's drooling over her and staring at her, and he's barely had one conversation with the girl. They don't even seem all that suited for each other, either."
"He's in love with the idea of her, and not her," Mafalda said in purposeful tones, as though reading the words off a piece of paper. "It's what Daisy's mum said in her last letter."
"But it's also incredibly obvious that he's connected with you," Daisy went on. "He doesn't do that with people. So if you want to be his girlfriend, we're in your corner. Got it?"
"We're rooting for you!" Mafalda said.
"Sh, he's coming," Daisy told the younger girl, who clammed up but seemed to come down with a case of the giggles as Harry got closer. "Mafalda, ssshh!"
Mafalda let a noisy snort of laughter at that, and Daisy only caught it next. By the time Harry approached, Hermione was watching in bemusement as both girls dissolved into bouts of tiny laughter, though given the roll of his eyes, this wasn't an uncommon development.
"They shanghaied you over here, then?" he asked, taking a seat next to Hermione, who smiled up at him. "Scooped you up in the Entrance Hall?
"That's rather precisely what happened," she told him. "She's hard to say no to."
"Luckily, Mum manages," Harry said. "Uncle Remus, not so much."
"Oh, no," Hermione laughed softly, beginning to dole some food onto her own plate. "She is criminally charming."
"Emphasis on 'criminally'," Harry insisted. "She gets up to more trouble than I do, and that's saying something."
"Oi, you're the delinquent who sneaks about at night and raids the kitchens," Daisy huffed. "I just rough up bullies who pick on people. My trouble happens in broad daylight."
"Yeah, you're a right crusader, aren't you?" Harry said, ruffling her hair, and Daisy attempted to look annoyed but seemed pleased at the attention.
"She saved me from bullies," Mafalda insisted. "Those boys won't even look at me anymore!"
"Bat-Bogey Hex," Daisy said with a smile at Hermione. "Ginny Weasley taught me."
"She's nice," Mafalda said. "I like her. She's been sad because Neville Longbottom left."
"I wonder why he didn't bring her along?" Daisy asked. "Those two have always been rather close."
"Probably didn't want six brothers going after him for whisking their dear baby sister away," Harry chuckled. "I know I'd be rather cross if someone were to snatch you up."
"That seems like my decision to make," Daisy huffed.
"Not while you're twelve, it's not," Harry said. "Mum would kill me, and then she'd find you and kill you as well, and then we'd both be dead, and I have a quidditch game to play—can't do that if I'm dead."
"Alright, I'll just wait until after your game to run away," Daisy decided, and Harry smirked at her, tossing a green bean in her direction. Squealing at the projectile, she ducked away and stuck her tongue out. "Oi, don't start another food fight or Mum'll send us a howler!"
"I'm overdue for one anyway," Harry said. "I've made it to my fourth year and not given her reason to scream at me through a letter? I'm clearly slacking."
"Clearly," Daisy muttered.
"So, why are the pair of you harassing Hermione, anyway?" Harry asked, taking a bite of meatloaf. "I'm sure she was hoping for a peaceful lunch, and instead she gets the giggle-monsters."
As if to underscore his point, Mafalda dissolved into another fit of giggles at that. Watching her and valiantly fighting a smile, Daisy did the same, prompting Harry to roll his eyes once more.
"Mum asks me to keep an eye on her and make sure she stays out of trouble," he says. "So I get a front-row seat to this, all the time."
"I think they're adorable," Hermione said with a grin at the pair. "Nothing wrong with being a silly girl, is there?"
"Exactly!" Daisy said, taking a drink of juice to calm herself. "See, she gets it."
"Alright, alright," Harry said, shooting her that lopsided smile he tended to. While her heart gave the familiar thudding flutter, she smirked right back, going for an impish look. "I wondered how you lot would mingle. It seems like some manner of chemical reaction. Like a bomb."
He'd been wondering about her meeting his family? That was…well, a bit thrilling to hear. The idea that she existed in his mind well after they'd parted was delightful, in fact. As they ate, Hermione wondered if she'd been mentioned in any letters home, if Lily Potter was aware of her and perhaps hoping that his son got closer to her. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but it wasn't outside the realm of possibility, was it?
"Oh," Daisy spoke up through a mouthful of potatoes, "Nev was shpotted – "
"Please don't spray your food, you creature," Harry told her flatly, not even looking in her direction as he helped Mafalda pour a cup of tea.
"Uuuugh!" Daisy noised, her mouth wide open as she aimed a mouthful of half-chewed potatoes at him.
"That's charming," Harry told her. "Mum would be delighted at your table manners."
"What were you saying about Neville?" Hermione asked, choosing to ignore the girl's display. Daisy gulped down her food and then took a swig of juice before speaking a bit more clearly.
"I just remembered Ginny was telling me this morning," she said, "her dad heard he was spotted hopping a ferry across the Channel, going to France."
"Why didn't they try to apprehend him?" Hermione asked.
"It was a muggle spotted him," Daisy said. "I guess they have his picture all over the missing persons boards in the muggle world. By the time the Ministry got to the scene, he was gone."
"Doesn't it take an hour and a half to cross the Channel by ferry?" Harry asked.
"At least," Hermione said.
"Well, whoever was in charge of…lee-yay-sing," she sounded the word out quite carefully, "with the muggles wasn't keeping up with their inbox or something. Ginny says they probably didn't see the point. What would the muggles be able to find out, right?"
"Typical," Hermione muttered. "So he's in France now?"
"Mhm, and that's trouble for the Ministry because now they have to cooperate with the French Ministry of Magic," Daisy said.
"And they're already cross with Fudge because of this whole debacle in the first place," Harry said. "I daresay they'll be content to leave Neville lost in order to even the playing field for the Tournament."
"But he could be in a lot of danger," Hermione pointed out.
"He's in danger whether he's here or not," Harry said. "Either he's forced to participate in a deadly tournament or he's on the run at the mercy of an uncaring world. At least in the latter case, it's his own decision."
"Mum says he wants his own agency," Daisy said, again carefully pronouncing the word. "I'm not completely sure what that means."
"He wants to do his own thing," Harry said. "Without anyone messing with him. Can't blame the bloke, honestly. Feels like every year he's got something going on. How's Ginny dealing with it?"
"She's really upset," Mafalda said, sounding concerned. "She wanted to run away with him, but Neville said she had too much to leave behind."
"And he doesn't?" Daisy asked, and Mafalda shrugged.
"I'm not even really sure what she was talking about," she said.
"Neville doesn't get on with his family," Harry said. "I think his great uncle was really tough on him growing up, and his gran encouraged it. They were afraid he'd turn out to be a squib."
"As if that'd be something so terrible!" Hermione huffed.
"For a pureblood family, it is," Harry said with a small shrug. "They're so isolated from the muggle world, they have this vision of some backwards bunch of savages in the mud. Any thought of having to join the squatters is terrifying to them."
"Is that why your mum decided to live among the muggles?" Hermione asked. "To get away from wizard society for a while?"
"It was also just more comfortable for her," Harry said. "She grew up in one world, and this whole other society was expecting her to drop everything and join them, leave her old life behind?"
"Well, it's not as though it's forbidden to keep in touch with your family and muggle friends," Hermione said.
"Not forbidden, no," Harry admitted, "but they don't make it an appealing option, either. By the time she graduated Hogwarts, Mum felt completely isolated, she says. This magical world had sucked her in and cut her off from her muggle roots, and then it let her know how much the purebloods in charge of things would look down on her for being a muggle-born."
Hermione frowned a bit at that; it sounded familiar, to be sure, shockingly similar to how she was beginning to feel. Of course, magic was fascinating to learn and brought many advantages to her life. But the more time she spent at Hogwarts—and in the wizarding world—the less she felt the presence of her parents, of her old life. It was as though the seven years at Hogwarts were meant as an indoctrination period, isolating her from muggles and muggle life while subtly and casually chipping away at her regard for that part of her past.
"You've a very thoughtful look on your face," Harry said after a moment. "Care to share?"
"I think I'd like to write my parents today," Hermione said. "Let them know I've been thinking of them."
"Would you like me to accompany you?" Harry asked, and Hermione grinned at him.
"Well, I'd be honored," she told him, ignoring the knowing smiles on the younger girls' faces.
Those two were going to be trouble; she could tell.
…
"So, if you don't mind me asking, is Daisy your…half-sister, or…?"
"We're full siblings," Harry said as the pair made their way up to the Owlery after lessons had let out for the day. Harry had seemingly materialized from nowhere behind Hermione as she'd made her way from Potions, startling her and prompting a knowing look from Cho, who had quickly excused herself to go meet up with Cedric.
Harry had been…slightly subdued but perked up as they chatted on their way to the Owlery.
"Mum got pregnant with Daisy just a few days before Dad died," Harry said. "She didn't even realize it until about a month after the funeral. Says she was one last parting gift."
"You two really seem to get along," Hermione said, and Harry grinned fondly at her words.
"Growing up, she was my little sidekick," he said. "Everywhere I went, 'I come too, bruvver!', even when I went to use the loo. Had to lock the door and shower while she banged with her little fists to get in."
"Oh, that sounds adorable," Hermione muttered.
"Lately, though, it's been a bit weird, I guess," Harry said. "We're still best mates, but she's…smarter. Clever. She's sharp as a whip, that girl. I can have real conversations with her about—you know, real things."
"She's graduating from 'little sister' to 'actual peer'," Hermione surmised.
"Basically," he said. "She's already told me—well…"
"What?" Hermione probed.
"Apparently, she thinks Cho and I aren't a good match," Harry muttered. "And that outside of quidditch we have absolutely nothing in common."
"She sounds rather precocious," Hermione said with a little laugh, looking up to see Harry peering at her questioningly. "Emotionally advanced for her age."
"Oh, she's that alright," Harry chuckled. "Chip off the old block, according to Uncle Sirius."
"At least she's looking out for you," Hermione said. "In her own way."
They reached the Owlery, and an irate hissing shriek sounded as Harry stepped in, prompting the boy to sigh.
"I know, I know—Hedwig, watch it!" Harry said, half laughing as he covered his head with his arms. From above, a snowy-white missile of feather and talon shot in his direction, circling him and finally alighting on a stone ledge near him. Massive amber eyes fixed him with a doleful look, and Harry snorted. "Don't gimme that look, like I've been mistreating you or something. I just haven't had anything to post lately, is all. Hermione, this is Hedwig. She's a bit put out with me, it would seem."
"Oh, what a poor neglected girl," Hermione giggled, and Hedwig the owl glanced over at her with a commiserating look. Boys, it said, somehow perfectly. "I need to send a letter, you know. Maybe Harry would let me borrow your services?"
Hedwig fluttered her wings in an anticipatory way, sticking her leg out and prompting Harry to chuckle.
"Looks like the decision's already been made," he said. "Go on, she needs to stretch her wings."
"Thank you, Hedwig," Hermione said, affixing the envelope to the owl's leg. "This one's going to 8 Heathgate, in Hampstead in London."
Hedwig ruffled her feathers importantly, hopping out a nearby window and winging into the darkening afternoon. Watching her, the pair gazed out over the grounds as long slanted shadows spilled out from the forest, the distant mountains casting an early evening gloom over them.
"It really does feel like…like the muggle world doesn't even exist up here," Hermione said after a moment. "You don't realize it's even happening until it's been four years and you've barely seen your parents at all."
"I think that's the case with most private schools anyway," Harry said. "Don't they come up to Hogsmeade—oh they would need a magic escort, though."
"Cho's mum is much too busy with work to make it up, and Marietta's parents…aren't the most muggle-friendly sort," Hermione admitted. "They buy a bit too much into the pureblood view on them. The one time I visited, they kept acting like it was this amazing feat that I could even do basic magic. After one visit, I…didn't really care to go back."
"Mum calls it disdain," Harry said. "A lot of those quiet blood-purists don't say anything, but they have this attitude about them. Of disdain toward muggles and all things even remotely connected to them."
"It's mad," Hermione said with a shake of her head. "I read about the inception of the Hogwarts Express once, because I was curious that they were using muggle transportation to get to their school. And the whole debacle is the perfect storm of the utterly backwards attitude wizards have for muggles."
"How so?" Harry asked.
"Well, to start with, they just took the train from the muggles," Hermione said. "There was no financial reimbursement made, no consideration paid to them at all other than to just wipe their memories and conceal the platform. And then the pureblood families at the time initially refused to use the Hogwarts Express, for the sole reason that it was a muggle invention and thus had to be awful and unsanitary and unsafe."
"And then a hundred years or so later, the Knight Bus," Harry said.
"Exactly!" Hermione said. "They're so loath to admit that muggles are actually innovative and smart, yet they steal their homes and buildings and inventions and add a few enchantments here and there, then they mock the muggles for how simple they are. Did you know St. Mungo's Hospital was a muggle building that the Ministry just took, exactly like the Hogwarts Express? They treat muggles with such callous disregard, it's abominable."
"But to them, it's business as usual," Harry said with a shrug. "Who cares about a bunch of muggles, am I right?"
"I just wish…" Hermione trailed off, sighing. "I wish there was some way to change it all. To just go to the Ministry and—shout at them, to make them see sense."
"People have tried," Harry said. "D'you know, there was even a muggle-born Minister for Magic? Fella named Norbert Leach. When he was elected, a bunch of Wizengamot members resigned their positions in protest. Six years later, he resigned his post due to a mysterious illness he contracted. Uncle Sirius says it was probably Draco Malfoy's grandad, Abraxas, poisoned him."
"So even if someone did try to change things – "
"Wouldn't get very far, I suspect," Harry said. "Not without someone high up looking out for them. And Cornelius Fudge likes his gold and his fancy hats and his lovely steak dinners too much to risk stirring the pot. Lucius Malfoy keeps his coinpurse full, Fudge keeps the purebloods happy."
"I'm surprised this society hasn't crumbled yet," Hermione groused.
"Uncle Sirius says it's only a matter of time," Harry said. "The less-bigoted pureblood families are realizing that the pool of eligible wizarding families is starting to shrink. Everyone is each other's cousin these days. So they marry muggle-borns or half-bloods or even muggles. Those kids are like us, growing up with a foot in each world. And the more the purebloods drive this society into the ground, the less inviting it looks to stick around."
"Are you planning to stick around?" Hermione asked, and Harry shrugged.
"Dunno," he admitted. "There's so much I'd like to do, you know? Like you, just make things better. But people have tried, and it doesn't work because the system isn't designed to be changed. And I've sunk three almost four years of my life into this world."
"It feels too late to do anything but perpetuate it," Hermione said.
"I've thought about going to culinary school," Harry said. "Maybe starting a restaurant."
"A restaurant?" Hermione asked with a grin. "You like to cook?"
"I'm shockingly good at it," Harry said. "Sometimes Dobby even lets me use the kitchens to make something to eat. It's fun to cook. It's fun to get something right and watch it turn out well, and then you get to see people you care about eating something you made and enjoying it. It's…rewarding. I even made a little birthday cake for Daisy this year. She loved it."
"That's sweet," Hermione said, feeling a small shiver wrack her body. Looking around, she realized they were still standing in the Owlery and had been for some time. Surrounded by rodent skeletons, owl droppings, and molted feathers, all had fallen away while the pair had been chatting, oblivious.
"Shall we get inside?" Harry asked. "Bit nippy out here, after all."
"I do have homework," Hermione said, and Harry chuckled.
"You always have homework," he said.
"It's not my fault I'm studious," Hermione said, watching as he led the way to the door and held it open for her. Once again in the warmth of the castle, the pair made their way toward the Ravenclaw common room, Harry seemingly content to walk her back.
"Well, I suppose you being studious is nice for me," he said. "And my Arithmancy grade."
"See?" Hermione said with an impish smile. "Everyone wants to tease until they need help bringing a grade up. At least you've stuck around even after you've gotten what you needed."
"Well, believe it or not, I actually enjoy your company," Harry said. "I could hit an O in Arithmancy, you still won't be getting rid of me. Not to mention, my little sister seems quite fond of you already."
Feeling her face heat up a bit at his words, Hermione's smile widened to a goofy grin, and she felt her shoulders hunch in a pleased way. "Well…that's quite nice," she said.
And, well…it was.
This one didn't want to end on any sort of note, so it just sort of petered out. Hopefully it doesn't feel like a letdown.
Reviews and feedback are always appreciated!