21/11/15
There's something about when someone is happy, and the smile in their eyes glows brighter than any lumos spell. It's a near blessing to be engulfed by their warmth and tugged along by the constant cheerfulness.
That's what it had been like for Hermione for the past week. Ron had been a picture of happiness ever since the day of the trials and it seemed that no amount of homework or prefect duties could put him down. He was always smiling and Hermione was quickly becoming acquainted to the look of pure glee that he always wore. It had been months – years – since she had seen him in such a pleasant state.
The slow trickle of praises from other Gryffindor students helped as well and Hermione was fairly sure he'd been on cloud 9 for the entire night after the first team practice.
Needless to say, Ron was doing really well. After beating out Cormac for a third year in a row, his confidence had rocketed up to the sky.
Hermione couldn't say she was in quite the same state, however. Her school work was starting to way down on her and try as he might, Ron couldn't take on all of her prefect duties as well as his own – although he seemed willing to try. As a result, most of her free time had been spent cooped up in the library or in her common room scribbling down notes and just trying to keep up.
It also meant she didn't get to see the others as often as she liked.
Their schedules just didn't match up and if she ever saw them, it was only for a brief hour or two before they were forced to break up again.
She missed them. Or maybe she would if she had time to stop and think about it.
In the mean time she focused on her school work and just tried to look happy whenever Ron and his glow came anywhere near her. Although it was hard for her not to reflect the rays of happiness back to him; just being in his space when he was in this state was enough to have her breaking out into her own wide grin.
It was nice seeing him so happy.
She just wished she could enjoy it more.
Even now when she glanced across to him now, her eyes drifting over where he was talking animatedly to Harry, she could see the bright burning joy radiating from him and infecting everyone around him.
Harry was grinning already, his green eyes gleaming, and Ginny was laughing gently into Harry's shoulder, her ginger strands trembling with each chuckle. Even Yasmin was joining in, her giggles filling the air as she laughed at Ron's joke.
Hermione smiled. Her fingers shifted between Ron's and he squeezed them gently, his eyes flickering to her for just a second before they were darting back to his captivated audience. There was no telling how many times she'd heard this story in the past few days – he seemed intent on telling everyone about all of his catches in detail – but it was adorable how excited he got and he still sounded so amazed that he'd caught the quaffle every time that he told it.
So she let him tell it, just to see him smiling again.
"- you could have taken it easy on me!" He exclaimed, his eyes locking onto those of his sister. She grinned wider, head rising just a little so she could meet his gaze dead on.
"I wasn't going to take it easy on you."
"You're my sister!" Ron protested and Ginny just smirked, sinking back against Harry again. Harry's hand shifted for a second, readjusting and then they were comfortable again and once more enraptured as Ron continued re-enacting his tale.
Hermione shook her head softly, turning her eyes from her boyfriend's bright smile and casting them around the Great Hall.
Everywhere she looked her eyes fell upon students in the midst of enjoyable conversations. Smiles almost as wide as Ron's were plastered upon every face she turned her eyes onto, until she met a pair of stormy grey.
It was then that she froze, her smile slipping a fraction as they locked.
Another side effect of Hermione's new schedule was seeing more of Malfoy and Hermione was, surprisingly, not that bothered by this outcome. She admittedly didn't find it too terrible, having to spend hours working in the common room beside him and, although carried out in near-complete silence, the walks that they had to carry out together as head prefects were bearable.
The worst times, she decided, was whenever she encountered him when he was surrounded by his friends. At these points he became once more the man he had been before; the slurs would fall from his lips with ease and the swagger would enter his step once more and Hermione would be left reeling with disbelief that this could be the same person she'd been sat opposite the night before. If she didn't know any better she might have guessed that the heat of their shared fire place warmed his cold heart, but she knew that the problem ran deeper than that.
She just steered clear of him during the day eventually.
It was easier that way.
And the nights found the meeting together again, falling back into a routine that had developed without words as they gathered their things and collapsed before the fire and scratched with quills in hand until the lights were burning low.
She could recall how it had started, and knew that she was at a fault for catapulting them into this state with her rash actions. But she saw no reason for changing them.
When she had first stalked into the lounge with her books clutched in her arms and her hair flying messily behind her, she had had just one thought in her mind: it was unfair that Malfoy was spending so much time in their shared room and she wasn't. She had hoped, admittedly, that he would rise and leave when she had joined him. She had hoped that he would decide that the warmth of the fire and pleasant plush of the sofas could easily be replaced by his bed if it meant not sharing a room with her.
Apparently she had been wrong.
But she was still glad she'd done it.
She'd not forgiven him- Merlin no! It would probably take an eternity for her to do that and she'd not told the others about it either. It had just become a thing and she wasn't going to question it.
So she diverted her eyes, tossing them back to her boyfriend and his tale. At least there she felt safe, rather than on the rocky cliff edge, where she stood with Malfoy.
"eet was very eempressive, Ron,"
"Very eempressive," Ginny repeated with a smirk and Hermione turned just in time to catch the glare that Ron was tossing in Ginny's direction.
Both of them were more than familiar with the French accent and, despite Ginny liking Yasmin more than she had Fleur upon their first meeting, Ginny was a pro at mimicking the tender tones and was always keen to show off her talent. In the past few weeks, Yasmin had been forced to become acquainted with the teasing.
"I 'ought you were éclatant, Ginny. And 'arry too."
No praise was tossed in Hermione's direction, but Hermione didn't question it. She and the French girl just hadn't clicked as the others had. They tolerated each other but that was about the extent of their relationship, not that Hermione was bothered by that.
"Hermione!"
A voice cracked through the buzz of voices and Hermione turned, smiling as she saw Dean and Seamus coming towards her.
"Hello!" She replied cheerfully.
"Professor Trelawney has apparently been asking after you," he explained immediately, his smile creeping wider when hers slipped. "Knew you'd be thrilled about that."
"Do you know what it's about?"
"Luna didn't say."
Hermione frowned, eyes searching the room quickly for the blonde but falling short.
"Can I come?" Harry's soft tones surprised her and she turned, smiling when she saw the bright eyes looking back at her. "I want to ask her something."
She nodded. "Should we go now?"
With a nod in reply, Harry pressed a small kiss to Ginny's forehead before he was pushing himself up and away from the table. Hermione mirrored him seconds later.
"I'll see you at the common room later?" She offered to Ron and wasn't surprised when he shook his head.
"I have prefect duties – I'm on patrol tonight."
Hermione sighed but nodded and leant down to kiss him gently.
"See you tomorrow, then." He smiled after this one and she returned it happily before she was turning to say bye to the others.
Then she and Harry were leaving and she was brought back to wondering again what Professor Trelawney could possibly want.
***
The climb to the tower seemed to take years. Although she and Harry kept up a stilted conversation, Hermione was distracted. She couldn't shake the confusion over Professor Trelawney's request from clattering around her mind as her brain attempted to puzzle it out. It was hard. Trying. And she couldn't come up with any explanation really.
If it had been Harry that the Professor had asked for then maybe she would have understood. Harry had at least pretended to understand the useless subject, but Hermione had (rather cruelly she realised now) showed everyone exactly how she felt about the subject.
So why would the professor be calling on her now?
Unless there was another explanation that she couldn't conjure up herself.
There had to be something that she was missing.
By the time they'd reached the trapdoor, Hermione had steeled herself in preparation for whatever might come. But as they climbed up the ladder into the strong aroma, they were met with nothing but an empty room.
"She's not here," Hermione called down to Harry, who was pulling himself up behind her.
She stepped in further, turning slowly to take in all of the quaint tables and chairs. The decorations that adorned the walls were still the same as they'd been the last time that she'd been in the classroom – try as she might, she hadn't been able to forget them.
In fact nothing looked different. It was a mirror image of the hell that she'd been trapped in for hours as a younger student.
To say that sent a shiver through her was an understatement.
"Maybe we should come back-"
The creak of a door opening cut Harry off and both students whirled around to see the stumbling body of Professor Trelawney coming through a door that they hadn't noticed before. It appeared to lead into some sort of small storage room.
"Professor?" Hermione asked tentatively. "Are you okay?"
The only reply was a deep, ragged breath that chilled Hermione to the bone.
"Hermione, listen to her. Listen really carefully to what she says."
Harry's voice was eerily quiet and it seemed like the smoke was billowing out thicker now, engulfing them in its grasp.
Her hand came out suddenly, slamming down on Harry's arm and dragging him towards her. Which was when her head turned and Hermione was given her first view of the woman's face. It reminded her of zombie films; the glazed empty look in her eyes were frightening and the way her mouth opened and closed, uttering only small noises and never words flooded Hermione with dread.
But then she appeared to regain some control.
Her head turned, dead eyes seeking out Hermione, and when they'd locked on her mouth opened again and words started to flood out.
"The Dark Lord will return, and this time he will be stronger and angrier than ever before."
Her eyes met Harry's across the space between them.
"And the Chosen one must rise again, but he cannot hope to send him to the grave alone. Friends become enemies and enemies become friends and only then can the darkness come to an end."
She took in a sickening deep breath, body trembling so badly that Harry's hand actually crept out to offer support to the frail figure. Then her head dropped low, her voice catching as she began to cough loudly.
Hermione was frozen to the spot.
The Dark Lord will return.
She couldn't shake the words from her mind. She couldn't get the terrifying image to leave her alone. The image of him, standing strong and in power again while the rest of them stood uselessly to one side.
Stronger and angrier than ever before.
They'd lost so many people before; she dreaded to think of how bad things would end this time. If things even did come to a positive end.
She swallowed and captured her runaway mind just in time to notice Professor Trelawney straightening up.
"Harry, my dear."
Her eyes were bright and alive.
"And Helena. What a pleasant surprise."
"Surprise?"
"Yes. Can I help you with anything?"
"You didn't ask for us to come up here?"
"Of course not, my dears. Why would I do that?"
Their eyes met again, furtive glances tossed between Harry and Hermione as confusion rippled.
"We'll just be going then," Harry said and the woman barely even acknowledged him, already moving to cross the room and pick at her stack of mugs.
They glanced at each other again before backing away quickly and the last thing Hermione saw before she ducked down the trapdoor was Professor Trelawney with her head turned down over the mug and her face contorted, terrified of what she saw in there.