Hermione's pride faded a bit when she entered her next Potions class on Wednesday and saw Lavender absent yet again. Her former roommate was staying away, and Hermione had a dark suspicion why. She lingered in the potions supply closet to check the Mauraders' Map, blocking the door shut so nobody could see. Since nearly all the students were in classes, Lavender's dot was easy to find in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Hermione sighed—nobody went into Myrtle's bathroom to celebrate the good things in life. Lavender was likely crying in there, too scared to go to Potions.
Hermione returned to the table and flung down the ingredients. "You'll have to brew this Confusing Concoction alone," she told Malfoy with a slight glare. "I have a mess to clean up." He looked at her quizzically, but she just shook her head and walked off to wheedle a pass out of Slughorn.
Pass obtained, she wove through the corridors toward Myrtle's bathroom. Lavender owed her big; Hermione had to agree to another dog-and-pony-show on Saturday night before Slughorn would write the pass. Godric forbid a Slytherin just did something without a favor in return.
She could hear the sound of wild, uncontrolled tears as she approached the bathroom door. Hermione was no stranger to crying in a bathroom herself: over Harry, over Ron, over other students' insults. She'd cried many a time over Malfoy's words, too. Boys were wretched beings, every one of them.
Lavender was sitting curled up on the stone tile floor, Myrtle's ghost floating before her, the bathroom half-flooded as usual. Neither noticed Hermione's entrance.
"... head between her legs," Lavender was saying.
"What else did you say?" Myrtle asked, her voice filled with excitement.
"I said it was hot, that he likes it rough."
"He's so naughty ... do you think he likes it rough?"
"Oh yes, he probably wouldn't be romantic, he'd just push you against a wall ..."
Merlin. Hermione had to stop this conversation before she threw up all over the bathroom. "Hello, Lavender," she said loudly, stepping further inside.
"You!" Myrtle's face convulsed with rage. Hermione wasn't her favorite person anyway, and now she'd interrupted what was probably the ghost's most titillating conversation ever. "Get out of my bathroom, Kitty!"
Hermione ignored her and knelt before Lavender. She could see the deep scars on the young woman's legs and felt a twinge of guilt. "Lavender," she said again.
Lavender looked up and her face was streaked with black makeup lines. "Come to finish me off, have you?" she snapped.
"No," Hermione said, settling back on her heels. "You weren't at Potions again."
"I tried," Lavender said. "I just ... couldn't."
"Fine!" Myrtle shouted. "Ignore me! Everyone wants to talk to Myrtle until somebody living comes along and it's back to the toilet!" She started sobbing. "I'll never get to have that blond—"
"Don't say it!" Lavender and Hermione shrieked together.
"Fine!" the ghost shouted again. "Be that way!" she flounced off, and they could hear her sobbing in the toilet in the last stall.
"That was close," Hermione said. Lavender smiled a tiny smile, which grew into a snicker, and soon they were both giggling. Every time they managed to stop, Myrtle would give a loud moan, and set them off again.
"Lavender," Hermione said when they'd finally calmed down. "Please, tell me." She tried to keep her voice gentle. "Why did you do it? Why did you say you shagged Malfoy?"
Her former roommate sniffled. "'Cause you're so mean."
Hermione's jaw dropped. "Because I'm what?"
Lavender pouted. "You're mean. You're very mean to Draco, and Theo Nott, too, which is terrible, because they're so handsome and charming, and they like you anyway. You're always snapping at Draco and telling him to fuck himself, when I'm sure he doesn't deserve it, and you keep making Nott study ..." Lavender's face turned increasingly red as she continued to list Hermione's sins against the Slytherins, and Hermione couldn't even stop her, she was so astonished.
"Let me get this straight," Hermione finally choked out. "You think I'm mean to Draco Malfoy." She didn't address Lavender's words about Theo—she probably was a little mean to him. "And Malfoy doesn't deserve it?"
Lavender looked at her resentfully. "Draco's nice to you, only to you, and you just don't care. And there you were that Saturday night, getting ready for your fancy date with Nott and acting all ..." she flapped her hands, "... superior."
"You told that story because I was acting superior?" Hermione repeated.
Lavender nodded.
"Of course I was acting superior. You were lying on your bed in your underwear and insulting me in disgusting ways," Hermione said. "It wasn't a high bar."
Lavender glared. "And now you're doing it again."
"You're crying in a flooded bathroom because you lied about shagging a wizard. Again, not a big hurdle to clear."
"At least I don't choke people or hurt people or scare people!" Lavender snapped. "I don't know where you come off acting like you know what the hell you're doing! You treated Ron like shit, and now you're treating Draco like shit, and Nott like shit! They might think you're Little Miss Perfect, but we know better!"
Hermione looked down at her hands. "You're right."
"... And watching you swan around like ... I'm what?"
"You're right." Hermione handed her a tissue, which Lavender looked at curiously before dabbing her cheeks. "I'm sorry I scared you in our room," Hermione said. "I didn't mean to break that window, honest." She sighed. "Ever since the war, I've been having trouble with self-control. I keep breaking windows in Herbology, too."
Lavender sniffled. "I heard about Astoria Greengrass."
"Yes, that wasn't great, either," Hermione admitted.
"She probably deserved it," Lavender said.
"Oh, she definitely deserved it." Hermione sat down on the cold tile next to Lavender, who eyed her nervously. "Lavender, you're right," she repeated. "I don't know what I'm doing. And these Slytherins are driving me crazy ..." She sighed. "I'm not shagging Malfoy. I'm not shagging Theo either. Merlin, I just came back to school to take my NEWTs."
"You are such a swot," Lavender said with a reluctant smile. "Only you would found a group like PORN."
"You have porn?" Myrtle popped out of her stall to look at them hopefully. "I've heard of porn!"
"Oh Merlin," Lavender groaned, and the two women collapsed into giggles again. Myrtle, offended, returned to her toilet.
"She has a terrible crush on Draco," Lavender said. "She says his eyes shine so pretty when he cries."
"Ooookay," Hermione said, desperately trying to get back to her purpose for being here. "Look, Lav, you've got to come back to Potions. You can't let all this drama compromise your education."
Lavender's face, which had gained some color during their giggling fit, went pale again. "I ... I can't."
Hermione touched her arm. "Lavender, tell me. Is it Malfoy? Did he say something to you? Do something?"
"He ... he came up to me Monday after breakfast. Pulled me into an alcove."
"Did he want to snog you?" asked a voice.
"That's what I thought at first ... I was like, 'finally', but ..."
"Did he touch you?"
"Just my arm, firmly but gently, you know? Like I think he'd—"
"MYRTLE!" Hermione shouted. Ugh, this was going to be excruciating. "Lavender, let's stay focused here, okay? What did Malfoy do then?"
Lavender looked down. "He was so angry. It was scary. He asked me if I'd been spreading that lie around, and I said no, I just told you, and I said you shattered that window, and his face ..."
"What about his face?" Hermione asked before she could stop herself.
"It just ... crumpled." Lavender shook her head. "But then he was really mad. I ... I thought he was going to hurt me."
"Do you like the hurt? Is that what you mean by rough?"
"Maybe, a little, but I really like—"
"Myrtle!" Hermione shrieked again, red-faced. The ghost had snuck up on them again, eager for more. Myrtle stuck her tongue out at them and swirled away. "Lavender, what else did Malfoy say?"
Lavender started to cry again. "He said he'd never be desperate enough to fuck me and that if I ever bothered you again he'd also shatter a window and ... and ..."
"Go on, Lavender," Hermione said softly.
"And slit my throat with the shards," Lavender sobbed.
Oh, Draco. Hermione slid closer and put her arms around the crying girl. 'I'm sorry, Lavender. It was a terrible thing for him to say; you didn't deserve that."
"He said he'd cut me ..." she hiccupped.
"I know, but he would never do that."
"How do you know he wouldn't?" Lavender whispered. "He's Draco Malfoy. He's a Death Eater."
"I just know."
Lavender sniffled. "Easy for you to say."
"He's trying to change. He's just really bad at it sometimes," Hermione said. She let Lavender go and backed up a bit so she could see her face.
Lavender didn't look convinced, and Hermione sighed. She'd never heard anything so unhealthy—Malfoy was a deadly Death Eater, but he was handsome with pretty eyes, so Hermione shouldn't be mean to him. The war had truly fucked everybody up.
"Look, Lavender," she said with decision. "You still have to come to Potions. I wouldn't let anything happen to you."
Lavender shook her head violently, her dark blonde hair covering her face. "I can't go sit with him."
Hermione bit her lip. This wouldn't be easy to fix. She took a moment to consider the situation, listening to the gurgle of water and Myrtle's faint moaning.
"Lavender, listen," she said finally. "Malfoy feels terrible about his behavior."
Lavender blew her nose. "Really?"
"He asks about you every day in Potions. He's, ah ... terribly upset," Hermione said, lying with impunity. She'd paint Malfoy crying into his pillow every night if it would help.
"He is?"
"He's devastated, haven't you noticed?"
Lavender shook her head. "He was smiling at breakfast today."
"Yes, but he was crying inside," Hermione said. "He's desperate to apologize, but he's afraid you won't talk to him."
"Desperate ..." Lavender's eyes were shining.
"Yes, desperate." Hermione tried not to roll her own eyes. "If Malfoy tries to talk to you again, will you listen?"
"I don't know," Lavender pouted. "He was very mean to me."
"I know," Hermione said, loathing herself. "Do you think you can forgive him?"
"Maybe," Lavender said. "He is very handsome." Hermione's mouth fell open.
Lavender pulled herself to her feet and staggered to a nearby sink. "Merlin!" she cried, looking into the mirror. "I can't leave looking like this!"
Hermione fidgeted while Lavender primped, keeping a weather eye out for Myrtle. Finally Lavender pronounced herself fit to be seen, and Hermione dragged her out of the bathroom and shooed her over to Gryffindor Tower.
"Now Lavender, don't tell anyone about this," she instructed. "Malfoy will be quite angry if you spread around that he wants to apologize. Give him a chance to earn your forgiveness."
Lavender nodded, a beatific smile on her face.
"And don't approach him," Hermione added. She couldn't have Lavender pestering the man. "He's the one in the wrong. Let him come to you, alright?"
Lavender nodded again. She had some fantasy going on now behind her eyes that Hermione did not want to know about. The whole thing was making her ill, she'd never felt so Slytherin, and she was not happy about having to clean up Malfoy's mess. Well, she wasn't doing it for him, she was doing it for Lavender, who had deserved better at his hands, even if she did lie like a cheap ... well, enough to say she deserved better.
She gave Lavender a final, reassuring pat on the shoulder, and sent her to the Common Room to relax until lunch. Hermione herself trudged tiredly back to Potions dungeon. It was barely 10:30 a.m. and she was already exhausted. Harry always said she sacrificed herself too much for other people.
***
When Hermione returned to Potions, all the cauldrons had vanished, and the tables had divided again. Students were sitting in pairs side by side, pretending to be writing, but mostly chatting, while Slughorn slept in an armchair.
She hopped onto her stool beside Malfoy, who was doodling dragons on his parchment. "What happened?" she asked.
Malfoy shrugged. "Everyone finished their potions, so Slughorn's having us work on our lacewing essay."
"The one due next week?"
"That's the one." Malfoy tapped his parchment with his wand, making the dragons' wings flap and little inky fire burst out of their jaws.
Hermione glanced around to make sure nobody was listening, then turned toward him on her stool. "This is good because I want to talk to you."
Malfoy immediately put down his quill and turned to face her, their knees touching. "I like this seating arrangement," he purred. "Cozy." He'd become increasingly friendly since their chat outside Ancient Runes, something Hermione had not anticipated. She was finding this new, darkly flirtatious Malfoy quite unsettling.
"It's important," she said primly.
"I'm listening." Malfoy stretched one arm along the table so that his hand touched the sleeve of her jumper. Their knees were still touching.
"It's about Lavender," she said.
Malfoy frowned and withdrew his hand. "Let's talk about something else. Anything else. Let's talk about lacewings. Or PORN." Hermione opened her mouth but he went on. "Fine, Pupil Organization for Reviewing NEWTs." He leaned closer, eyes bright. "I know, let's talk about the Weasel—how does he like being a shopkeeper? So nice to see someone accepting their limitations."
"You are foul," Hermione said. "Ron is happy with his family, and we need to talk about Lavender. She hasn't been to Potions this week and that is unacceptable. She told me what you said. You have to apologize."
Malfoy straightened and his face hardened. "I am not speaking to that lying slag—"
"That's enough!" Hermione hissed. Other students looked over at their table and she lowered her voice. "You threatened her—"
His face hardened further. "I certainly did. She lied to you about—"
"I know what she did. I was there, remember?" She leaned closer. "There's been bad blood between Lavender and me for years because of Ron, and she lied about him, too." Hermione glanced around; half the class was watching them now, including Theo far away at his back table. His Slytherin partners sat pouting at the lack of attention.
"Never mind," she continued. "That was still horrible, what you did, threatening her like that. She's afraid of you now, afraid to come to class. She's going to fail Potions if she keeps staying away."
Malfoy chuckled and straightened, turning toward the table again and picking up his quill. "If she's fool enough to allow us to scare her away from class, her bad Potions marks are on her," he said, his voice a perfect imitation of Lucius at his most snifty. He drew a long, curling line, the beginnings of another dragon.
"She's not being a fool," Hermione said. "I mean, she's always been kind of a fool, but it's more than that." She sighed. "Malfoy, look at me, please. Draco."
He put down his quill and turned to face her again, bumping his knees against hers. "Hmmm ... I like it when you beg for my attention. Hermione."
Hermione ignored this. "She has every right to be afraid," she said quietly. "She was attacked by Fenrir at the Battle of Hogwarts. She almost died. She still bears the scars. And you threaten her? Threaten her with cutting?"
Malfoy was silent, a touch of pain in his eyes. The sounds of students chattering, of quills scratching on paper, Slughorn's snores from the front of the room, all seemed to recede. There were only the two of them, looking into each other's faces.
A brass bell hanging in the corner began to ring, signaling the end of class. Malfoy and Hermione both stood, and he put his hand on her wrist.
"All right," he said. "I'll talk to Brown. I'll apologize." His eyes held hers. "I went too far, I know. I just couldn't bear ..."
"I apologized to her, too," Hermione said. "I completely overreacted. Even if her story was true, I had no right to be so angry."
Malfoy stepped closer, his warm fingers sliding down from her wrist to intertwine with hers. "Well, that's the thing, Hermione," he murmured in her ear, which was exposed by the wide, black headband holding back her curls. "I want you to have the right to be angry."
His lips brushed her ear lightly. Then he released her and walked away, leaving Hermione red-faced, wondering if Draco Malfoy had just said what she thought he'd said.
Notes:
NEXT UP: Bluebell's DADA class helps with Halloween Festival preparations.