A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews, favorites and follows after last chapter! Huge thank you to lanamarymack for alpha/beta reading this chapter! You can find me on tumblr (nauticalparamour) where I post sneak peeks, story updates and answer questions.
Please let me know what you thought of chapter seventeen and be on the lookout for chapter eighteen soon!
Even though Hermione had realized who it was that was following her, she did not stop her habit of revising with Rabastan in the library. Something had shifted between them — creating some temporary stalemate on her part — one where she was forcing herself to see acknowledge that maybe there was more than she thought to Rabastan Lestrange.
Strangest of all, there was something about Rabastan that made her feel safe, a novelty after five years of Voldemort being after her.
Rabastan for his part did not seem to mind at all. He took his studies seriously, unlike a lot of the other wizards in their year, and he recognized the utility of having a partner to work on essays and the like with. He had a very good mind for Arithmancy and Hermione was sometimes forced to admit that he might even be better than her at it. They managed to have a few lively debates about which method of translation was better, which she had secretly enjoyed. She'd never met another student who understood the material well enough to even have an opinion, yet alone defend an opposite position from her.
Hermione met Rabastan in the library on Thursday evening, as was their custom, sliding into the open seat across the table from him. He was already deep into editing his essay, so Hermione took out her own work and quill, ready to do the same. Only, her attention was caught by the way that his hand ran through his hair, twisting a wave absentmindedly around a long finger while he poured over the words. Biting her lip, she felt her breath catch in her throat when she realized just how attractive he was. It wasn't fair, was it?
Rabastan looked up at her, his blue green eyes catching her staring. He threw her a half-smile and sat up straighter in his chair. "What is it? Was I drooling?" he asked. "Because my argument on the probability of magical course corrections is pretty dreamy."
She made a half hearted noise of disgust to try to hide the grin that was threatening to spread over her face at his joke. She was sure he'd crafted an excellent argument. But, before she could say anything, they were interrupted.
"Well, well, well," a voice came from around the corner. "Just what do we have here? My friend and my sister... revising without me?" Regulus asked, smirking at the pair of them, looking like he'd discovered some great secret.
"I told you that I was going to be studying with Hermione," Rabastan said, sounding a tetch defensive. "We have an Arithmancy essay due next week."
Regulus slipped into the open seat next to Hermione, looking far too gleeful for his own good. "I'm happy, really," he said. "I just knew that the two of you would get along with one another, once Hermione got over herself. I just wish it didn't take Bernie being a disgusting little creep to make it happen."
Hermione felt her cheeks go hot, reminded of her bad behavior over the Yule break. She wished that Regulus wouldn't bring it up, because she still felt ashamed of how she'd acted. Also, she'd avoided giving Rabastan a proper thank you for stepping in when he did, mostly because it would mean admitting that he was right. And, Bernie didn't even have anything to do with the reason they'd begun studying together! Sirius did.
Only, she wasn't about to tell Regulus about that.
"Well, he had it coming to him," Rabastan said, leaning back into his chair, his arms crossed over his chest. She felt his gaze shift back over to her, but she didn't meet his eyes. She hadn't asked Regulus what he'd done with Bernie and she didn't particularly care to know, either.
"So, what are you working on tonight?" Regulus asked, pressing his hands together gleefully. "You looked like you were having a great time before I showed up."
Hermione could only feel her flush deepen. What exactly was Regulus trying to suggest here? Did he think there was something going on between her and Rabastan? Because she was certain that there were no deeper feelings from either of them. Salazar, she only barely tolerated Rabastan! And she knew now that he thought she was a stubborn, frustrating witch.
Rabastan started to answer, describing the particular unit they were on in Arithmancy, but Regulus's eyes quickly glazed over and before she knew it, they were talking about something else entirely. Something to do with Angus and Care of Magical Creatures, she thought. Hermione tried to return to focus on her essay in front of her, but she found that she just couldn't focus on the words in front of her.
A flash of black caught her peripheral vision and she whipped her head to the side, just in time to catch the wish of a fluffy black tail. Smirking, Hermione realized that Padfoot was stalking the library again. It seemed that Sirius had not ended his surveillance of her after their chat with one another. Once she knew that it was him, it was easy for her to figure out how it was that he was stalking her. Maybe he thought that using his animagus form would draw less attention (though, when he looked like the Grim, she wasn't sure how he'd thought he'd remain under the radar).
Part of her was glad that Sirius was still interested in her — that he hadn't outright written her off as a crazy person who thought she was from the future. That meant that he could at least see her story as plausible. Which meant, she still had a chance to change the path of his future, and hopefully make a brighter one for Harry along the way.
Hermione wasn't sure how long she sat like that, trying to focus on the words in her own essay, but before she noticed, she was startled again by someone coming up to the table. Salazar, what would Moody think of her now — so completely in her own head that she didn't even notice someone walking right up to her. So much for constant vigilance.
"Um, Hermione, can I talk to you for a minute," a very nervous looking Ansel said, gaining the attention of all three of the table's occupants. "Alone."
She shot a quick look at Regulus, almost as if she was asking for his permission to go. Regulus looked somewhere between amused and interested, but he gave her the slightest of nods. Feeling a bit better, Hermione stood up from the table. "Sure thing, Ansel," she said with a soft smile. "Lead the way."
Ansel walked them a few paces away from the table, ducking into one of the little alcoves at the end of the aisles of books, but still leaving her within eyesight of the table. This far away, they were unlikely to be heard. He seemed nervous, stepping from one foot to the other.
"What did you want to talk about?" Hermione asked, wondering what was the purpose of all of this. She and Ansel weren't friends, exactly, but he had gotten over his nerves about talking to her after they sat together at Quidditch, and she could always count on him for a quick few words at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall.
She could see twin points of pink on his cheeks. Ansel had hair such a lovely shade of brown, it almost made her feel a bit envious. He looked rather boyish and young, with soft green eyes that were gazing at her with such adoration it made her stomach flutter. "Um, well, there is a Hogsmeade visit next weekend," he said, running his hand along the back of his neck. "I was wondering if you might like to go with me?"
"Like a date?" Hermione asked, shocked at how giddy she felt. In all her years visiting the small wizarding village, she'd never been asked on a date. She didn't think that most of the boys in her time thought about her in that way.
"Uh, yeah," he admitted, his cheeks turning even more red.
Hermione looked over to where Regulus was sitting, wishing she knew how to answer. Of course, she thought that it would be fun to go on a date with Ansel, but she hesitated, unsure of how these purebloods did things. She didn't want to accidentally give the wrong sort of impression. Then, she remembered that Elvira was hooking up with Angus basically at every chance that she got, and decided to throw caution to the wind. "I'd—I'd really like that, Ansel," she said, feeling uncharacteristically shy.
"Great!" he said brightly, a smile transforming his face. "I'm really looking forward to it." He leaned forward then, looking like he might want to hug her, before he thought better of it and pulled back.
"Me too," she said, surprised that it was the truth. It was time that she let her hair down a bit and had some fun. After all, if she was going to be stuck here forever, there was no point in turning into an old hermit.
"I'll just walk you back to your table, then," he said, leading the way back to where Regulus and Rabastan were still waiting. When she sat back down, he gave her one more smile. "Talk to you later, Hermione."
"What did he want?" Regulus asked, immediately once Ansel was out of earshot.
"You mean you didn't know?" Hermione asked, scrunching her nose up in surprise. She thought that Ansel would have cleared things with Regulus first, seeing as they were friends and she was his sister. But, maybe things weren't as rigid in Slytherin house as she imagined.
"No and I demand that you don't leave me in suspense for a moment longer," he answered petulantly.
Hermione laughed at her brother's antics. "He wanted to ask me to Hogsmeade," she said, in a bemused rush. "I hope it's okay, I—I said I would go." She tucked a stray curl behind her ear, feeling unsure of herself.
Rabastan made a little noise that she couldn't hope to decipher, but she was sure that he severely doubted her ability to make good choices where wizards were involved. After all, she didn't exactly have the best track record.
"Of course it's fine," Regulus said, chuckling. "I just didn't think that Ansel would ever grow the balls to actually ask you. He could barely look at you last term without turning into a sputtering mess."
Hermione didn't know what to make of that. Regulus had previously told her that Ansel was intimidated by her, but she didn't think that it was because he might be interested in her. She just always assumed it was because she could be a bit intense.
"We've been talking for a while now," she said. "All he needed was a familiar topic to get him talking to me. So you have your making me go to Quidditch to thank for that."
"Huh," Regulus said, leaning back into his chair and absorbing the knowledge that someone was taking her on a date. "Damn, is everyone trying to get with my sister?" he asked, after a few beats of silence.
"I'm not," Rabastan said, his attention fully on the parchment in front of him, his quill scribbling away back and forth across the page.
Hermione wasn't sure if she should feel offended or not that Rabastan was resolutely not trying to get with her. She supposed she was mostly just annoyed that he felt the need to announce to her that he wasn't interested. It wasn't as if she wanted him to be interested in her in the first place.
"You say that now," Regulus said, grinning at Hermione over Rabastan's downturned head. "You are just trying to get me to let my guard down around you. But then next thing you know, I'll stumble on the pair of you 'revising' but instead you'll be giving each other googly eyes across the table. Or worse."
She made a noise of disgust. "Oh, Regulus, please don't be crass," she scolded her brother. "Or I will leave."
"No!" both wizards chorused at the same time.
"You haven't even looked my essay over yet," Rabastan said, pointedly.
"And I was hoping you could help me with this Charms work," Regulus said, giving her a guilty look.
"Oh alright," Hermione said, scrunching up her nose. It didn't take much to wear her down. "But, no more talk of my love life, okay?"
"You hear that, Rab," Regulus said, unable to help himself. "She loves Ansel."
"Regulus!" she scolded, though she was grinning. She wasn't going to deny it, knowing that it would only make him dig his heels in further. Even if he was grilling her, Hermione could not deny that it was the most fun she'd had in a long time.