Gaslighting Hermione

It Was Your Idea


Things could have been better, but they could have been (and had been) a lot worse. So all things considered, the term coming to an end was a bit of a wash. N.E.W.T.s were still a year and a half away and she was well ahead of schedule in terms of where she thought she ought to be, so that was certainly a notch in the right column. She and Ron were talking again, albeit somewhat with the air of walking on eggshells, and she had patched things up a bit with Lavender, because right (or not), Ronald was apparently going to be dating Lavender for the foreseeable future short of some drastic, near-death experience and it was just one of those things that she was going to have to deal with. So yes, some things were better.

But Hermione was trying. And trying as in making an effort, not as in getting on everyone's nerves. At least, she hoped.

She sat down next to Neville, idly flicking her wand at the table and allowing a helping of Lancashire Hotpot to serve itself onto her plate. At Dean's impressed look and begging eyes, she sent one his way as well, landing on his plate with a soft plop.

"Ta," Dean replied before tucking in. Then he looked a little nervous. "We're not supposed to be that far along yet, are we? I was mumbling under my breath in Charms all day – it's frightful, it's like all the professors spend all class just trying to catch you whispering."

Hermione let out a huff that was more amused than irked. "No, silent summoning and banishing is first thing when term starts back up. You're in the clear."

"Ah, that's good then!" Dean judged before going at the Hotpot with gusto.

"Still, that was really impressive control there," Neville added. Hermione preened a bit. "You know," he began a little hesitantly. "I know Harry wasn't keen on it earlier, but even if we don't bring back the... you know," his voice dropped to a whisper, though more out of force of habit than any need at this point, "the D.A... would you mind helping me out a bit," Neville trailed off, looking a bit embarrassed.

Hermione beamed. "I'd love to. I'll make a study schedule over the holiday and we can start when we get back. You improved so much in defense last year, I bet we can do the same for you in Transfiguration."

Neville offered a shaky grin. Hermione took a bite of her hotpot, feeling warmth travel through her both literally and metaphorically. This is how things should be. And then she caught sight of the entry to the great hall. Her smile froze. There was just that one teeny tiny thing.

"'Lo all, whew that was something today in Charms, wasn't it?" Harry greeted the group as he sat down between Ron and Hermione in his usual seat.

"First time I think I've ever seen Davis without a scowl on her face, to be honest." Lavender giggled.

"Don't tell anyone, but I think it was me that did it," Ron admitted to the table, his voice hushed. "I was so busy trying to think about casting the Cheering Charm without saying anything, wasn't paying attention and I'm pretty sure my wand was aimed right at her."

Parvati snorted. "She'll hex you if she finds out, the frigid bee-eye-tee-cee-ach. She really would have kissed Bulstrode if Bulstrode hadn't stopped her muggle-style."

"Well, I think it's very impressive that Ron can cast such a powerful charm," Lavender decreed. She gave Ron's arm a little pat. "Even if it didn't go exactly where intended."

"Well, I'm glad I didn't end up trying to kiss Bulstrode instead," Harry said with a laugh.

"Harry, you can't just go around kissing every witch that catches your eye!" And there it was. Sitting down in the seat across from Harry, previously occupied by Ginny Weasley, ex-girlfriend of Dean Thomas, and now occupied by Romilda Vane, the attempting temptress of Harry Potter who not a week ago she had had to apologize to, a situation that simultaneously explained Ginny's absence from the group as well as her newly minted ex-status with regard to Dean, and to top it all off the reason there was still one Weasley not on speaking terms with Hermione.

Things could have been better.

"Oh, hello, Romilda." Harry replied, as if Romilda hadn't been poaching that place at the table almost every meal for the past week. "Don't worry, I'm very discerning about which witches I kiss. Muggle Studies go alright?"

"Uggggh!" Romilda replied with great eloquence and not a trace of dramatics. "Burbage decided we should end the term learning what muggle Christmas is like. Did you know that Santa uses the floo to visit muggle houses. The Floo! With all his reindeer even. Can you imagine how much of a mess that must make!"

"No he – he lands on the roof." Hermione tried to explain helpfully. "He only uses the chimney to go from the roof to get inside. He doesn't use the floo."

Romilda – and Neville, Ron, and Lavender – all looked skeptical.

"Seems a bit strange," Neville spoke for them, doing his best to sound diplomatic.

"I would think the reindeer would hurt themselves having to go literally down the chimney, the poor things." Lavender added.

"No, it's true. Flies to the house and then goes down the chimney. Only him though, not the reindeer." Dean seconded Hermione's telling of it.

"But... but why go through all the trouble of flying and then go down the chimney at all?" Romilda demanded, sounding quite put out. "Why not just use the door?"

"It's complicated," Harry added his word into the mix at last. But it's well... it's how it is, really. I don't think we're supposed to question it too much."

Romilda hmphed, jutting out her lip at Harry that honestly it was ridiculous. "Well, I think it's silly, he should just use his owls like he does for us. But!" She brightened. "That reminds me, I did get you something, and I'm certainly not going down a silly chimney to give it to you. Here." She pulled a small package out of her bag. "Came today. Cauldron Cakes, my favorite. Just a small thank you to my favorite professor for helping me out so much these past few weeks." Romilda sounded very coy.

"Thanks, but it was no trouble, really, for such a great student," Harry replied back with a sincere smile. He pocketed the package. "You're going home then for Christmas?"

Romilda nodded. "Yes, tomorrow, so don't go snogging Bulstrode while I'm gone!" And then, for the first time since she had planted her flag in Ginny's former seat, Romilda turned to her and began to chitchat like they were good friends.

"So, I heard about you're date tonight. Oh, I'm so jealous. A Christmas Party at Hogwarts. I wish I was in the Slug Club, it sounds like so much fun."

"Oh, you're bringing someone?" Harry asked. Hermione gave an uncomfortable shrug. "I, well you know, not really. He's already going, we just decided to go together. It's not a big deal, really."

The plan might have maybe sort have been to make Ronald notice that other people were perfectly capable of having dates as well, but in all the hubbub of the last week she had forgotten to actually do the second part of the plan, making people aware she had a date without letting on who the date was, and maybe making sure certain people knew that they could have been invited instead without actually telling them that. And by the time she had gotten around to it, she'd started having second thoughts about the whole thing.

"Oh, who is it?" Lavender squealed, sounding a little too excited about Hermione being on a date. Ron looked a bit trapped, interested to know but not so much that he wanted to be seen interested to know. She thought about how best to respond to this inadvertent minefield of her own creation.

"It's McLaggen," Romilda blurted. "He was talking to Augustus and Nigel about it, he seemed really happy, Hermione," Romilda turned back to her, giving her a toothy smile. "I hope you guys have a nice night, you would be such a cute couple."

"McLaggen, eh?" Ron asked. Then shrugged. "Well, if you like him, I'm happy for you."

That was not exactly how she had seen that playing out, and given Lavender's sudden perkiness, she wasn't the only one surprised by how nonplussed Ron seemed to be.

"Well... like I said, we were both going anyway. I don't want to make a big thing about it." Still, she had to at least try and find out something. "I appreciate you taking it so well, I know you don't get on the best with him."

Ron quite unexpectedly, just shrugged again. He elaborated further as he took a mince pie from the center of the table. "Just quidditch stuff, can't hold it against him for trying for the same position. Especially when I won," Ron voice turned just slightly smug at that. Hermione, as she had been doing all year, kept her peace. More than anything else, this truly was her burden to bear, and she could admit it had been a silly thing to do and maybe even a bit unfair to both Ron and McLaggen, but what was done was done and best to just let it be.

"He's alright I suppose. As long as he's not a git to you, it's fine." Hermione felt equal parts impressed and wanting to bash his head in for being this reasonable, now at all times.

"OH, I think it's wonderful." Romilda was saying again. "No pressure, just going as friends. Expanding your social circle. More people should that. Do you have a date yet, Harry?"

"I don't," Harry replied, not sounding at all like he usually did when he was pining in indecision, like he had about both the Yule Ball and about Cho early on last year. "I hadn't planned on even taking one, but you know, Hermione makes a really good point." She had? She probably had, granted, but which one, precisely?

"Vane, why don't you come along with me? You can at least see what the Slug Club's like that way, and we can all go together."

Romilda clapped her hands. "Oh, that would be fantastic! What a brilliant idea, of course I'll go with you, Harry. Oh, and thank you, Hermione! Oh, I'm so glad you came up with this."

There was nothing to say to that.

"Watch him, Vane – if he treats you like he treated me, I'll help you hex his bits off."

Harry looked chagrined at that. "Yeah, sorry Parvati. I wasn't the best of dates that night, was I?"

Parvati sniffed. "A little late on the apology to, but accepted. Just... don't let me hear of you doing it again."

Harry nodded. "I'll be a perfect date," he declared boldly. "And I'll go ahead and double the size of your Christmas hamper that I was definitely already ordering for you."

"Love you too, Potter." But there was no heat in it.

"Right, so," Romilda redirected the conversation to her favorite topic, her being with Harry. "What time do you want to meet up. Oh, this is going to be the most fun party, ever!"


It was not the most fun party ever.

And for once, it wasn't Romilda's fault. It was hers. Wholly, unequivocally, her own. Because she was the one who had thought it was a good idea at the time to come to this party with McLaggen, who was apparently an octopus animagus if just the sheer everywhere his hands tried to be at all times was any indication.

Even worse, he kept wanting to parade her around the room of Slughorn's acquaintances and kept making insinuations about their relationship that were very much quite different from simply attending the same party together. He was a bore, and as a result the night had become very boring. So much so that when Neville came around with a platter of dragon tartare (and she would be having a long talk with Neville in the next term about not allowing professors to treat him like a literal servant), she barely let him explain the dangers of causing bad breath before she had taken two of them in a moment.

"I take it it's not going so well," a sympathetic voice called out from behind. Hermione jumped.

"Mmmph," her eyes watered. She tried to swallow, she did. In the end, she scrambled for her wand and cast a vanishing charm – thank goodness for silent spellcasting revision.

"That tastes horrible," she moaned in lieu of a greeting. Harry's eyebrow rose. "Yes, I sussed that part out, thanks." Then his expression softened once more. "How are you doing? Do I need to have a word with Cormac?"

That was tempting. But... "No," Hermione grumped. "It's my own doing, and he's more into showing off himself now than me, so the night's actually improving." She looked Harry up and down in his dress robes, the same ones he had worn two years ago at the Yule Ball, though someone had readjusted the sleeves a bit. "You look very handsome," she said after a moment.

His nose wrinkled. "Thanks. Here." He handed her his flute, still half full of the bubbly concoction that Slughorn had provided. "If you're goal was to keep Cormac away, I think that dragon stuff will do the trick . Could afford to take it down a notch, even."

She gulped greedily at the glass, enjoying the cool, sweet taste and rinsing her mouth out with it vigorously. "Blegh, thanks. I probably shouldn't have done that, though."

"Again, something I'd already figured out for myself," Harry replied dryly.

She took another drink.

"Anyway, I think I'm calling it a night here, Professor Slughorn's milked me for all I'm worth with his old Slug buddies, so if you reckon you're up to handling Cormac, I'll see you tomorrow."

Hermione nodded. That was probably a good idea. "Give me a minute to make rounds and I'll come with you. At least I'm not the only one whose evening didn't pan out." She kept any hint of 'I told you so' out of her voice – Romilda couldn't have been worse than Cormac, even if Harry had had more time to catch on to her tricks.

Harry looked a little embarrassed. The poor boy. She-

"Romilda's been a darling, actually. By leaving, I meant uh, well that is..."

"You are not." Hermione blurted out, spilling not an inconsiderable amount of the remaining flute of punch onto Harry's shoes. "You can't be doing that at a Christmas Party."

Harry took a moment and then looked a bit pole-axed. "I was thinking of taking her for a quick walk through Sprout's Christmas Grove and then walking her back to her, that is our, common room." Harry's face dropped further as he stared at her. "Bloody hell, Hermione, that's a bit much, don't you think!?"

"I thought you were going to snog in a broom closet," Hermione replied primly, doing her best to sound like that is indeed what she had been thinking about, which as of five seconds ago, it completely had.

Harry gave her a grin. "Well, that's a good idea too. Maybe I will. Thanks, Hermione."

Hermione's stomach dropped a bit, but... well, she could do this. Especially when this seemed like another thing that was all her fault. "You really like her, don't you?"

Harry's grin widened a bit. "Yeah. I know you think it's a bit weird and all, and we did kinda fall into this out of nowhere... but she's sweet and so full of joy for normal stuff and maybe I'm not explaining it right but I'd like to give it a go."

Hermione swallowed. "I'm happy for you." She tried for a punchy, self-depreciating joke. "And I'll try to remember that going forward," with a laugh that sounded a little hollow even to herself.

"All I can ask for," Harry replied, giving her a quick hug. "Thanks."

Before either could say anything else, the conniving littl- the girl who was probably charming in her own way once Hermione had the time to get to know her – sidled up next to Harry, leaning into him and going onto the tips of her toes to kiss his cheek. "I've said goodbye to Emily so we can go now if you're ready."

She turned to Hermione, eyes and smile shining with mirth and too much lip gloss. "Hermione! Merry Christmas to you too. And thank you so much for everything, Harry told me all about how you thought we should go ahead and give it a shot. To be honest, I didn't think you liked me very much, so that really means a lot. I hope we'll be friends!"

"Merry Christmas, Romilda." That, at least, she could say while still – somewhat – meaning it.

With final good-byes, Harry and Romilda left the party together and without a final look backwards. Harry's hand was lingering around the small of her back, his fingers tapping lightly on the top of Romilda's bum. By the slight sway of her hips, Romilda fully approved of this development, the vain vixen was at last victorious.

She sighed, she'd have all Christmas break to remove those sorts of epithets from her mental library before she had to deal with the two of them again on a daily basis. Goodwill to all and all that. She just needed to focus on the truth. She wasn't mad. She wouldn't hate Romilda. She wouldn't betray Harry, but would watch him go without a shred of regret, rejoicing for him in her heart. It was, like everything else, her choices that defined where she went from here.


Thank you all for reading. This took a slightly darker, slightly more sinister tone that I had intended when I started it, but I think I like where it ended up, and just as importantly think this is a good ending. Hope you all find it the same, and until next time, stay well.