Breath Mints / Battle Scars

Chapter 43: XLIII

But that part she understands.

What she doesn't understand is why she isn't already in front of the podium again, this time for Theodore Nott.

"They postponed it," Harry says again, clutching her shoulders gently as though to keep her upright. They're still in the Ministry atrium.

"I...I don't understand," she manages.

"Unforeseen circumstances," says Harry. "It's been postponed indefinitely - probably because of all the chaos in there. They said you'll be notified when they're ready to move forward."

It takes her a moment, and then she's nodding numbly. All she can think to ask is, "How's Pansy?"

Harry offers a wry, winded smile. "She's...erm, less than pleased. It wasn't pretty. But I told her it'd just give you more time to prepare his defense."

She nods again. "Thank you."

"'Mione." He gives her shoulders a shake. "You've won. I know it was a lot to take in but - you did it. You won."

Then why doesn't it feel that way?

She just nods a third time. Plasters a false smile on her face.

Malfoy's not allowed to leave with them. The Ministry claims he has to be 'formally discharged,' and it takes Harry a long while and lots of tugging to get Hermione's feet to move.

Part of her doesn't believe they'll really let him go.

When they make it back to the Great Hall, Harry insists she come back with him to Gryffindor for a nap. But he hasn't even finished his sentence, and she's already turning in the direction of the Dungeons - leaves him with a squeeze of his shoulder.

Her feet take her to the false wall instinctively, her infamous knock echoing down the corridor. They all know it by now.

But this time it's...different.

This time, when Blaise finds her at the door, there's no air of disinterest. No mocking smile. No sense of unwelcome as she steps past him into the Slytherin common room.

She recognizes most of the students spread out across the room, now. Ones she never knew the names of before. Probably because she's defended more than half of them.

And this time, as their eyes follow her to the corner of the leather sofa she always takes, she doesn't feel like a target. Her eyes stumble on Adrian Pucey as she takes her seat. At first she thinks it's a trick of the light.

But no. That's a nod she saw. A nod from him.

She blinks back at him for too many seconds, stunned. Finally forces herself to tip her head in return. Adrian looks back down at his book like nothing happened - but her world is tipping on its axis. Keeps tipping as Blaise appears in front of her again, holding out a glass of Firewhiskey.

"T-Thank you," she says, a little dazed as she takes it.

"Acta non verba," is his response.

Her brows bunch together. For a moment, she thinks he's offering a sort of cryptic comment on the situation. Deeds, not words, the Latin means. She knows that much.

But then he says, "It's the password."

And when she blinks stupidly up at him, he juts his head at the door she just came through.

"We had it changed this morning." His lip curves up, just barely on one side. A half-smile. "Don't need to knock anymore."

He leaves her open-mouthed in his wake as he heads up the stairs to the dormitories. And she literally has to sit back - stares at her lap and takes a moment to fully grasp it.