A week following Draco's incident, Hermione is bent over a set of translations and chewing on the tip of her quill as she examines the runes. The library is silent and the work is peaceful, if a bit difficult on her own, but she's thankful for it. So rapped up in her work, Hermione doesn't even notice the person coming up to her until they pull out the chair across the table.
"Hard at work again," Theo says as way of greeting. Hermione looks up and blinks blearily at him, dark shadows under her eyes. "Merlin's beard, you look like you haven't slept in days," he hisses, leaning forward.
"I feel like I actually haven't," Hermione mumbles, though it's distorted through a yawn, and Theo is frowning at her. Tossing aside her quill, she rubs her eyes and stretches her arms over her head. Her shoulder pops and Theo winces sympathetically. "This project is driving me mad, and Draco isn't making it any easier." At Theo's questioning brow, she explains. "He's decided that working together is, and I'm quoting directly, "bad for a Malfoy's reputation." She scowls and Theo wonders briefly if she'll enact a terrible revenge on his friend. "He's insisting that we work separately, and I was far too tired to argue this morning."
"I'll talk to him," Theo announces. Madame Pince's grumblings can be heard from the desk, and Theo drops his voice. "I'll make sure he knows that you two have to work together. He'll listen to me, he has to." Theo starts to stand, but Hermione shakes her head wildly.
"No, don't do that," she says. "It'll lead to an argument and then you'll be mad at yourself later if...if something happens to him, like before. Just..." Hermione groans and looks towards the work she's been doing. She shrugs. "Just let us work apart for a day or so. When he sees that it's too difficult without doing it together then the problem will sort itself out."
Theo hesitates, debating her proposal, before giving a terse nod. "I'll let this go, under one condition."
"And what would that be?" She's already closing her textbook and sliding her work into her bag.
"Let me and Blaise treat you in Hogsmeade. You deserve a break after all that Malfoy has put you through, and last weeks shock with his condition."
Hermione's brow shoots up. "What do you mean by treat? I won't let you buy me anything. That's not the sort of person I-"
"Just a small meal at the Three Broomsticks, nothing else," he compromises quickly, interrupting her protests.
She frowns a moment before letting out a sigh. "Only because I really am hungry, but I'll buy for the next Hogsmeade trip," Hermione says firmly.
"Fantastic!" He lights up and reaches out to drag her bag up onto his shoulder by the strap. "Let's go. We've got to get Blaise from the kitchen after we drop your bag off at the dorm; The elves are probably stuffing him with treacle tarts by now."
Later, after they amble out of Three Broomsticks, stomachs full of rich foods and butterbeer still heavy on their tongues, Blaise takes the lead towards a few shops. When Hermione notices the certain one he's headed for, she groans, "why are we going to Honeydukes?"
"To get sweets, obviously," says Blaise, loping an arm around her shoulders.
"You had treacle tarts earlier, and butterbeer just now. Shouldn't that have been enough?"
"Not for me," Blaise laughs. "Plus, it's the second part of our treat to you, even if you don't eat any of the sweets today. Just save them for another time."
She grumbles, "I won't let you pay for me anymore. You've already bought me an entire meal. Let me at least get my own sweets!"
"Not a chance," Blaise replies with a cheeky grin. "This is out treat to you. However, I wouldn't be opposed to you buying our meal on the next trip."
Theo pipes up," I'd be opposed!"
The shop comes into view and it's brimming with students, each in various stages of a sugar-induced coma. One student, a fourth year from Hufflepuff, is dozing lightly on a bench with a hunk of chocolate in their lax hand.
"I already said I'd pay, Nott," Hermione reminds, pausing in her stride to take the chocolate from the boy and place it on the bench beside him.
"Theo's a traditionalist. He doesn't think women should feel forced to pay for a meal they've been invited to," Blaise whispers, though she's sure Theo can hear anyway. When Hermione isn't looking, he swipes the chocolate off the bench and break off a chunk before putting it back. He pops it into her mouth just as Hermione glances towards him and grins when she glares at him. She doesn't comment, just looks to Theo.
"Is that so?"
"Is what so?" Theo feigns innocence.
"That when you're courting a woman, you don't let her pay." Hermione freezes, as do her two companions, because it definitely was not her who had spoken. Malfoy swaggers up then, smirking darkly. "Though, as a friend, I feel it's my duty to point out that you could have certainly picked out a better woman to court."
"I'm not courting her, Draco. We're friends, for Merlin's sake," Theo sighs, carding a hand through his hair. "We've been through this already." Well, that's news to Hermione.
Still, she covers her surprise and narrows her eyes on Draco. "I thought I told you to let this go, Malfoy? Didn't we reach an agreement already?" She questions. "Remember, I said as long as someone like you can be friends with him, with both of them really, then so can I."
"It wasn't an agreement at all-"
"Like hell it wasn't!"
"-It was you informing me of the kind of person you are!"
"No worse than you, at least."
"If that's you way of reassuring me-"
"I don't really think you need reassuring. That isn't my job, Malfoy."
"Would you stop interrupting for just a second?"
"Like you've done to me a dozen times in the past?"
"As I was saying! You should find a better way to reassure me of your character."
"I think the original one is perfectly fine."
"We all know what sort of person I was! That alone should cancel any meaning of your reassurance."
Before the situation can devolve into a physical fight, Theo steps between the two. "What on earth are you two talking about?"
Hermione scowls over Theo's shoulder at Draco, who's straightening his robe. Both are red in the cheeks. "Nothing!" They chorus, then grimace just after.
Theo looks at both of them, then shakes his head. "Funnily enough, I don't believe that. But I'll let it slide, if only to get you two to calm down." Draco huffs and crosses his arms while Hermione offers Theo an apologetic smile.
"Sorry, Theo," she says.
Unable to restrain himself, Malfoy snorts, "you've really got the wench trained, haven't you?" "Who would have thought it possible?" Forgoing her wand, Hermione tries to launch herself at him. Blaise, finally stepping in, grabs her around the waist he holds her back.
"Hermione, don't do something you'll regret," he murmurs, locking his arms tight around her.
"Believe me, I won't regret it," she spits, but takes a breath and doesn't fight to escape his hold. She flicks the hair out of her face just in time to see Theo snatch Draco by the back of his robes and drag him down an empty alleyway. Only once they've disappeared does Blaise let her go.
"I'll take that as my cue to follow," says Blaise, watching them go. "You stay here, please. We'll be back in a few moments." Then he's gone, racing after his two friends. Hermione stares for a long time before the curiosity becomes to insistent and she takes the steps to the mouth of the alley, hiding behind the wall so she can't be seen.
At first, she hears nothing, but then there is a dull thud that sounds vaguely like flesh hitting a hard surface and Theo raises his voice. "I swore I'd help you, Draco, I swore my life to it. But if you continue to act this way after all I've done for you without every asking for anything in return, then I don't know if I can keep this up."
Hermione frowns, remembering their conversation about Malfoy's predicament, and wonders if Draco's treatment of her is the only reason they're arguing. What else has Draco done for Theo to threaten to stop helping him?
She pulls from her thoughts, but has missed whatever Draco replied with, and only just catches Theo's words.
"Don't you doubt me. I may have sworn to you mother, but it was no unbreakable vow, and I will just as fast tell her of the way you've been acting," Theo warns. "How fast do you think she'll pull you out of schooling? You know you're only hear because we argued in your defense."
"You'd never," Malfoy snarls. There's another thud, loud enough that Hermione flinches in sympathy for whoever might be taking their aggression out on the hard surface, the wall most likely.
"I will," Theo sniffs, with no waver or hesitation.
"Blaise, you'd do the same?" Malfoy inquires. There is silence, then a sharp scoff from Draco. "What great friends I've got." You knew what you'd signed up for"
"How dare you?" Blaise growls, finally speaking up. "We've stood by you through this entire thing, putting aside our own issues--and trust me on this, they're numerous, but you never care to ask--to make sure you're always alright. Never once did we falter in that, or complain, or even ask any kid of repayment. We did it all because we care, with no strings attached. You're our friend, our brother even, and you've the audacity to accuse us of being bad friends after we complain once about your poor attitude?"
Draco chuckles without humor. "You knew what you signed up for when you decided to fight for me rather than just letting me-"
"Don't say it," Theo interrupts, a near pleading tone to his voice. "Don't you dare say it. We fought hard to make sure that didn't happen. Don't try and swipe it under the rug and pretend it meant nothing that we stayed with you."
There is something raw and sharp in his words, something that makes Hermione ache and she can't understand why. They eat at her, burrowing in deep and latching on. She feels awful, suddenly, for listening in on the conversation, but she can't make herself leave now.
"I don't need you!" Draco explodes without warning, dragging her back to the present. "I don't need either of you! I'll do just fine on my own. I can control it!"
"I'm sure you can," Blaise bites about, and Hermione can see him rolling his eyes. "That's why last week when you had to leave early you-"
"I wasn't prepared then! I was distracted. I will be this time, though, and then I'll prove I don't need you."
Their voices drop down again to quiet, fierce whisper, indecipherable to Hermione, so she tears herself away from the wall she's pressed against and walks back to where they'd left her. It isn't long before Draco storms out of the alley and moves past her without so much as a glance.
Theo and Blaise return soon after, faces thunderous and eyes alight like lightening. Theo rubs his left hand and a closer look reveals the skin is battered, torn and bleeding in some parts. She imagines the brick can't have been the best material against skin.
"Are you two alright?" She asks as they draw closer.
The pair share a look and, faster than would be normal, give her a matching grin. All previous hints of their anger has disappeared. "We're fine," Theo assures.
"We just had a little talk with him, but it's alright now," Blaise adds.
Hermione, having heard the majority of that little talk, doesn't believe them for a second. Even still, she keeps her mouth shut and lets them lead her into Honeydukes without another word.
That night, Hermione goes out on her patrol with higher spirits and any thoughts of Draco shoved to the very back of her mind. She's humming merrily as she goes along, fingers tapping out a beat on her thigh to keep time with the music. It's enough to keep away any biting memories.
It never seems to matter who she's around, be it long time friends or her more recent ones, she never fails to feel achingly alone. Her parents cruel words make sure she won't ever forget how much she should distance herself from the unfailingly good people who always seem to surround her.
You'll only hurt them in the end, her mantra ever since her mother had spit the words out after Hermione had restored their memories. She hasn't done much to distance herself, knowing that the isolation will hurt her, but there is always that niggling knowledge that, even if she hurts, her distance would keep them from being hurt by her.
But this night is quiet and no one is around for her to worry about, so she lets herself relax and hum the soft tune.
The halls are empty and her patrol moves along quickly. She's near finished when a growl is ripping through the silence. Compared to the quiet before, the sound pounds at her ears and thrums harshly in her chest. Years with the reckless Harry Potter has taught her well, though, and being unaware is never a good thing.
Hermione pulls out her wand and, despite the way her heart is thudding, she whispers, "lumos." The corridors are lit with a burst of light and at first she sees nothing. Then her eyes adjust and when she blinks, she sees a flash of gray at the end of the hall.
She gasps, thoughts shooting into a frenzy, and she easily makes the connection between this creature and the wolf from outside.
"I thought you'd been a hallucination," she murmurs, more to herself.
The creature-wolf-whatever it is-cocks its head and bright orbs are gleaming back at her. Its body, hardly more than a shapeless blur so far outside the reach of her light, shakes and she can hear the rustle of the fur even from down the hall. Between one breath and the next, it launches forward and, despite herself, Hermione lets out a shriek.
It takes all of two seconds for her instincts to kick in, but even that is enough for the wolf to cross the distance of half the corridor. Hardly bothering to speak the words aloud, Hermione shoots a stunning spell. It whizzes past the beast, just missing, but the appearance of the light throws it off for a moment. The moment is long enough for Hermione to turn on her heel and take off down the hallway.
Behind her, there is a howl that pierces striaght to the most basic root of fear, the part of her that is near animalistic in a desperation to survive. For a moment, she has a passing recall of a book she'd read about never running from a wild animal because they'll think of it like a hunt.
Hermione swallows back a cry and shoots another stunning spell over her shoulder. With it comes a high-pitched whine and then a thump. There is no clack of claws on stone, but Hermione doesn't stop. She pushes herself harder, pulling from every reserve of energy, and runs all the way to the headmistress' office. Panting out the password, she paces anxiously and wrings her hands as she waits for the steps to be revealed. She glances back the way she had came more than a few times.
When the steps appear, Hermione takes them two at a time and throws open the headmistress' door. "Headmistress McGonagall!" She cries. McGonagall starts at her sudden appearance, head snapping up from where she'd been leaning over a heavy tome of a book on her desk.
Eyes wide, she takes in the ruffled appearance of the headgirl. "Miss Granger! What is the meaning of this intrusion to-"
Hermione barrels over her reprimand, still reeling too much form her encounter show the respect this woman deserves. "There is a wolf in the castle!" She gasps out. "It chased me until I managed to stun it." She stops, breathes heavily to force herself to calm down. On the far wall, the portraits of old Headmasters are waking and grumbling angrily. The one of Dumbledore raises his white brow and disappears from the frame.
"A wolf," McGonagall echoes. Hermione nods, hair falling from the up-do it had been in with the ferocity of the action. "What happened exactly, Miss Granger? Can you explain it to me?" She pauses, frowns, and gestures to the chair in front of her desk. "Have a seat, please." With a wave of her hand, a tray appears, carrying a cup of tea and a biscuit.
Hermione nods, accepts the cup, and sits down before launching into her tale. As she relates the story of her encounter to the headmistress, the woman does not speak and hardly reacts other than to congratulate her on her quick thinking. Once finished, Hermione slows her speech and says, "this wolf...it isn't a werewolf, but it's so much larger than any wild ones I've ever seen or even read about." She hesitates, brow furrowing as she worries her lip, then asks, "could it be something else? Something we might not have seen before?"
Before McGonagall can reply, Dumbledore reappears, and speaks to the headmistress. "I found nothing, Minerva, but a few paintings on the third floor claim to have seen something large and furry chasing our hear girl."
McGonagall nods. "Thank you, Albus. That'll be enough for now. Send word to the rest of the professors. I need to meet with them as soon as possible."
Dumbledore disappears again, as well as a few of the other headmasters.
Refocusing on Hermione, McGonagall frowns. "It's very possible that this creature could be something we've never seen. There were creatures in the forbidden forest that not even Dumbledore himself knew." There is a small pause as the words settle over Hermione. "There are other possibilitites as well, any of which could give us an explanation."
Hermione purses her lips, already thinking through several theories of her own now that she's calmed down enough to do so. "What do you think is the most probable then, if I may ask?"
"As of right now," McGonagall says, "I would think that it's our magic, and by extent, the magic of the castle, that has affected an otherwise normal creature. It's happened in the past, with an elk no less, so it wouldn't be so far-fetched for it to have happened again." The headmistress' frown deepens, carving into her face like a crack in a stone.
"Have they ever gotten into the castle?" Hermione asks.
McGonagall shakes her head, a jerky movement. "We must seek it out, and pray that it hasn't found any other students who aren't so quick-thinking as you. This creature, if enhanced by our magic, could very well present a serious threat to the safety of my students." Without another word, she stands and escorts Hermione back to her dorm.
Not trace of the wolf can be found anywhere in the castle, but by the next morning, the entire school is on alert. No one is permitted out in the evenings except faculty and the older prefects, so long as they have a partner with them. Everyone is meant to be on the look out for this potentially deadly creature that is now within their walls. All the while, Hermione can only think of third year, and does her best to ignore the bite of sadness that the memory brings up.
It's on Halloween that Hermione receives another letter. Rather than making the mistake of being somewhere people will find her, Hermione stows away in her room. She clutches the letter tight to her chest and forgoes her bed, instead choosing to slip into the window nook and read by the morning light.
The window is cold, the air outside just frigid enough to reach through the glass, and Hermione sets the letter down to press her hands against the cool surface. It gives her something to focus on other than the envelope with her name printed on the outside and she takes a few slow breaths. Once she's sure she won't immediately start shaking by opening the letter, she reaches for the letter again.
Sliding her fingers under the flap, she pulls it open and unfolds the letter. Inky black letters glare up at her. Hermione swallows hard and starts reading.
Hermione,
We're leaving for the Americas soon. We aren't sure when we'll return, but don't expect us any time soon. As a matter of fact, don't expect us back before your winter holiday break, so you may as well not even bother coming to the house.
You're father and I simply can not bear staying in a home we had raised such a fine child who has turned into a horrid woman.
What sort of person could do what you did to us? What child could hurt their parents in this way? What sort of witch must you be to turn your magic against the ones who you claim to care for? You're no better than that dreadful man you told us about, the one with the peculiar name.
The only reasoning I can find is that you've been ruined by that which sets you apart from my family. You're magic has ruined you, made you a poisonous human. You're toxic to those who you've come into contact with. Only a true monster could harm their parents.
Being around you, even if not in the direct vicinity, makes us miserable, quite frankly. I can't hardly sleep at night, and your father barely eats anymore. I can only imagine how you're so-called friends must feel, trapped around you all day. I pity them. They must always been waiting in fear for what you'll do to them. It's a wonder they haven't all run off and left you alone.
Though perhaps they still will and they only pretend as your father and I do that they don't care. Those poor things, forced to be near you and probably acting like they don't mind. At least we have an escape. They've got to deal with you for a while yet.
Don't expect another letter for a while, we'll be busy.
From,
Mother.
Any help that the grounding touch of the cold window had been is erased as she finishes the letter. Hermione chokes on a sob, feeling a lump lodge in her throat, and she shoves the letter away from herself. It flits to the floor and slips partially beneath her wardrobe. She has to press a hand to her eyes to chase away the pinpricks of tears.
Each word had been a sharp jab to her chest and now she's left feeling winded. She hurts, all the way down to her core, and feels like she's going to shake apart trying to keep it inside herself. Hermione would face Bellatrix time and again, stay locked in that drawing room for years, have mudblood carved into her flesh a thousand times over, have a lifetime of nightmares, if she could only just get back to the life she had with her parents before the war.
The tears can't be stopped now, and she cries and cries, letting her pain spill out into the quiet room. No one can see her here, locked away in her dorm, so she lets herself feel it all. Lets it flood through her, every ounce of guilt and regret and agony and abandonment, and can almost see it all tangibly snatch away the last bit of hope she'd had for a normal relationship with her friends.
She hadn't wanted to before, but now she knows, has it confirmed by her parents fleeing the entire continent to get away from her. Hermione shouldn't keep her friends close, not when she is aware of the misery they must feel.
Hermione curls up in the window nook, wrapping her arms around her knees. She bites her tongue, but even that can't cover the whimper when her eyes catch on the corner of the letter peaking out from under the wardrobe. Tomorrow she'll pick it up, but she doesn't think she can move now, or maybe she just can't find the energy for it. She ducks her head so she won't see it anymore.
A knock on Hermione's door pulls her to attention an unidentifiable time later. She lifts her head and blinks owlishly. The sun is down, casting her room in darkness, and her face is sticky with tears she hadn't realized has dried.
"Hermione," Theo's voice is gentle, caring almost. "Are you alright? You've gone and missed all of the day." She has to muffle a bitter cry with her hand because this is truly unfair. To throw the things she has in her face so soon after she realized she can't have it is just downright torturous, and she almost laughs at how awful her luck is.
"I'm fine," she coughs out, voice rough like she's swallowed a mouthful of gravel. Sending out a silent prayer to any god she can recall, never mind whether she believes in them or not, she listens closely for receding footsteps. There are none.
"Are you sure?" Theo continues, relentless as ever. "I've heard that you've not left your room all day, and Rapunzel is rather trustworthy. Your friends are worried." He is persistent with acting like he cares, Hermione can give him that much.
"I really am. Fine, I mean. I'm fine, perfectly fine." She winces, imagining the way his eyes narrow in suspicion. "You needn't worry over me, and you can tell anyone who asks the same thing." Cut them out, push them away. It's the best way to help them and keep herself from hurting them.
Theo is silent for a moment, and then she hears him take a breath. "Well, if you feel up for it, Blaise and I are going up to the Astronomy tower for a small gathering for the holiday. It'll only be seventh years, if that helps." His offer is tentative, lacking the confidence he always carries. It's her own doing, diminishing him down to being afriad of her denial, but it only furthers her beliefs of her own wretchedness.
"I'm staying in." Cold, short, and no room for argument. It does its job.
"Oh," he mumbles. "I see." Hermione has to bite her lip to keep from apoligizing. "Well...I'll just...I guess I'll leave you to it." It's a little while before she hears hesitant steps moving away from her door, and several more seconds before the distant sound of the portrait swinging closed with a click.
Her only solace is that she can still be with her friends, even if she won't let herself get too close. It only works so far in consoling her though, and her cheeks are afresh with new tears.
A few days following Halloween, Hermione's friends come for a visit. More than anything, she'd prefer to stay in her room, worn out from a day of classes and avoiding her friends, but they were already suspicious.
Besides, it would be better to only make them have to spend one evening with her rather than make them feel obligated to check on her every day. So she lets Ginny drag her from her bed and down into the common room where the others are.
"Poor thing was half-asleep in bed," Ginny announces. "But I haven't seen her in a week, so she can wait just a little longer." Ginny gleams at everyone and Hermione copies, dredging up a smile as she seats herself in her chair.
In Theo's chair is Harry, and Ginny moves to settles at his feet, using his legs as a backrest. On the floor near the fire is Ron, sprawled out with a lazy smile as he warms his hands. Neville and Luna occupy the sofa, talking about the days lessons. For just a moment, Hermione lets herself feel the warmth of being surrounded by everyone she cares most for.
It's a small reprieve before her parents's words come swarming back and swallow her up. "You're toxic to those who you've come into contact with," the words echo. Hermione tenses, clutching the armrests of her chair. She's possessed with the sudden, desperate urge to flee, to run as far and as fast as she can. She shouldn't be here. She should as alone as she feels. They deserve better than her. But it's too late to run now, so she holds on tight to the chair and stares hard at the rug under her feet.
"Hermione!" She starts and looks at Harry in bewilderment. His brow is furrowed and the corner of his mouth turns down. "You were miles and miles away," he tells her. "Are you alright?"
She can't look at him, he knows her too well, despite being dense about most anything else, and could read in an instant if she was lying. Instead, she turns to stare into the fire. "Yes, I'm fine, just tired is all. The ancient runes project is running me ragged, not to mention all the supposed sightings of the wolf, and the rule breaking I have to deal with as head girl. I hardly get a moment to breath anymore." It's not really a lie, so he'll be more likely to believe it.
Everyone else falls for it, as expected, but when Hermione chances a glance back at Harry, she can see it on his face. The way his frown is deeper, the way his eyes seem to see right inside her. He can tell, just as always, but he doesn't say a word, and she's unbelievably thankful for that.
"Tell us about the wolf!" Ron bursts out excitedly, pushing himself up onto his elbows. His wide, blue eyes are pleading.
Nerves already frayed from lack of sleep, Hermione can't help but snap, "there is nothing to tell." The room goes deadly silent, even the crackling of the logs in the fire seems to lessen. "A wolf got in the castle, the professors are handling it, end of story," she adds, forcing her tone to be softer now. Ron looks hurt, and Hermione nearly apologizes, before remembering what her mother had said.
"Those poor things, forced to be near you and probably acting like they don't mind."
The more rude she is, the less they'll want to be around her, so she sucks it up and locks away her guilt.
"Don't pester her, Ron, she just finished telling us how tired she is," Ginny says into the silence.
"I was just curious," he grumbles, looking contrite.
"Well ask someone who doesn't have to deal with annoying students as well as an obnoxious ferret-boy every day," Ginny barks. This sparks a whole other conversation, one that everyone is pulled in to. Their mutual dislike of Malfoy being a topic they never tired of or disagreed on. Though Luna, for her part, did seem to be more neutral on it and spoke nothing too negative.
Hermione lets the conversation wash over her, opting out of speaking and just letting her mind drift into oblivion. It's only a loud, derisive snort near the entrance of the common room that drags her attention back to the present.
"Well if it isn't the gathering of my most adoring fans," Draco chortles as he, Theo, and Blaise walk in together. Theo tenses immediately, gaze shooting to Hermione with an apology on his lips, while Blaise whispers furiously to Draco. She offers a weak smile, but that zaps all the energy she'd been able to gather for the day, and she turns away to face towards the fire again. Everyone else can deal with Draco. She simply does not have the will to fight with him today.
"You wish you had a fan club," Ron retorts, rolling off his back and jumping to his feet.
"No need to wish when I've already got one," Draco sneers. "Though, it's mainly the lovely ladies of Hogwarts. Then again, I suppose I could make room for you." Upon reflection, he decides to amend his statement to, "actually, you won't be permitted. I don't need your poor face ruining such a wonderful group of women." The shade of crimson that color's Ron's face may have been laughable in nearly any other situation.
"Draco," Theo snaps before Ron, or anyone else for that matter, can reach for their wand. "You came here with a purpose, so get on with it and don't antagonize Weasley."
Draco hesitates, stuck between wanting to see if Ron's face could get any darker and actually listening to Theo. His gaze flickers to the silent girl and he makes his decision. "Fine, but only because Granger is more fun to taunt." Hermione jerks, taking a startled breath, and turns to him. "Good, she's paying attention now. It's like trying to talk to a child when you aren't focused."
She doesn't reply to the barb, but Ginny shoots up to her feet. "Watch your words, Malfoy," Ginny warns, drawing herself up. Her hand hovers over the hilt of the wand peaking out from the pocket of her robe. "The others might have reason to hold back, but I would never." Draco glances down at her hand, an ever-present threat, and steps back. Everyone knows about her Bat-Bogey hex. He won't take the risk.
Seeing him sufficient dealt with, Hermione sighs, "what do you want?"
He rounds on her, pointedly turning away from Ginny, and says, "we've got to finish our project and I was told you had a free night." Draco looks just about as annoyed as he sounds, with his lips curved down and his arms crossing tightly over his chest.
"I'm with my friends," Hermione argues weakly.
"I told him that," Theo interrupts, throwing a glare at his friend.
Draco shrugs, uncaring for the scathing look. "Not my fault that I grew up thinking the bookworm would always jump at the opportunity to do school work.
The two friends continue to bicker while Hermione turns to her own friends with a long-suffering groan. "Would you mind too terribly if I left? We really do need to finish the project." Her friends look between themselves, each giving a small nod.
"Sure, we don't mind," Ginny answers for them all, smiling at Hermione. "We'll talk tomorrow instead."
They can't wait to see me go, Hermione thinks bitterly.
She musters up a grin before thanking them and standing to move towards the three boys by the portrait hole. "Let's go," Hermione mutters as she grabs her bag off the floor from where she'd dropped it earlier in the day.
Draco stops mid-sentence to turn wide eyes on her. "The wonder-squad let you leave?" he asks, leaving his own friends without so much as a wave as he follows her. Walking behind her, he doesn't notice her wince, and Hermione doesn't think he'd care anyway. He'd probably laugh, actually.
"They're glad to see me go," she mumbles to herself, too quiet for him to hear. Louder, she says, "they don't mind it. They're understanding." Before he can ask anymore, she adds, "we'll work in the library. If we work quick enough then we should be able to finish before it closes for the night." He doesn't protests, so she willingly takes it as an agreement.
Their time in the library is spent in whispered arguments over which is the correct translation of the passage and who should be writing the final answer down. Eventually though, they do finish, and can't help but share a celebratory smile. It lasts for a second before they look away from each other and set to work on double-checking their translations with the remaining time.
In the end, they're just reading through the story their translation tells. A tale of a war captain- or king, as Hermione continues to protest until Draco finally relents and changes the translation- who led his soldiers into a battle in a far away land. Every last soldier, right down to the lowest ranking ones, was never seen or heard from again. Only the king was found, stumbling into an outlying town of his kingdom with flesh marred by wounds and clothing unrecognizable as royal cloth it was so covered in soot and dirt and dried blood. He'd died shortly after, taking any information about his soldiers location, or wherever laid their bodies, with him.
Hermione stares at the parchment of the final draft. "Do you think they ever found anything out about the battle?" She asks, frowning.
"If they did, I wouldn't know," Draco snarks, taking the parchment from her and signing his name at the top, right beside Hermione's. He sets the paper down, and then looks over at Hermione.
Feeling his eyes on her, Hermione hunches her shoulders and pretends to be busy with putting her book away. "I think I'll look into it," she says, just to fill the empty air and maybe to get him to look away.
"You do that," Draco replies faintly. Hermione waits a few seconds, then opens her mouth to finally say something about his staring. He speaks before she can. "You were unnaturally silent when I was treating you little boyfriend poorly. I thought it'd get some kind of reaction from you if I started in on the poor weasel. Where'd you go off into that head of yours?" It's such a normal question, so far outside his character, that Hermione worries for his health.
"Are you ill?" she inquires. "Or did you just express an actual interest in my actions?"
It quiets him and gets him to look away with a scowl. She counts it as a win and reaches for her bag, preparing to go back to her dorm. She knows she's becoming far too skilled at avoidance and deception, but really, there isn't much she can do to change it.
Author's Note: I'm really sorry! This is kind of late coming, but I've been very busy the past few weeks between finals and Christmas and just an overall hectic rush. To make up, I think I'm going to put out a few chapters this week. I'm not sure what days they'll be up, but just be on the look out for them.
Anyway, what do you all think with the first actual letter from Hermione's parents that you can know word-for-word what they're saying to her. I'm tremendously sorry to anyone who might like her parents, and I'm one of them. But, as is the case with my stories, I tend to make loved characters into the bad guys. I hope you still enjoy reading though!
Thank you all so much for reading, and I'll see you soon with another update!!