The Courage of Hermione Granger

3. Chapter 3


Hermione and Ron held their breath, waiting for Harry to explode. His temper had gotten more and more unpredictable within the last couple of years as a result of the frustration of Dumbledore and everyone trying to hide information about the Dark Lord's return and whereabouts, and he had a habit of taking it out on friends and rivals alike.

I need to distract them somehow, Hermione thought frantically.

As Harry opened his mouth to respond, Hermione stepped between the two boys, unmindful of the fact she barely came up to their chins.

"Oh, grow up Malfoy!" She snapped. "You too Harry! Everything is always about you!"

Harry, Ron, and Malfoy stared at her in surprise.

"Hermione--" Ron began tentatively. She ignored him, jabbing her wand sharply into Malfoy's stomach. She went to do the same to Harry, but he jumped back.

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you Granger?" Malfoy complained, rubbing his stomach where she had poked him.

"I've had enough!" She answered shrilly. "It's always Harry this, Harry that. Harry bloody Potter got re-sorted into Slytherin. Big deal! So did I! And usually I would be freaking out--"

"You're doing a pretty good imitation of it right now," Malfoy muttered.

"--but I'm tired, I'm hungry, I'm irritated, and quite frankly I don't feel like listening to you two snap and snarl at each other like two male dogs! In case you haven't noticed, there's a war going on, which is why we were re-Sorted in the first place! Which means that we all have a hell of a lot more important things to focus on than this silly little feud! So, we're going to do things my way right now. Ron, go to Gryffindor Tower." She forestalled any type of protest he may have made with an icy glare. "There's nothing you can do tonight. We'll see you tomorrow at breakfast. GO!"

There was no arguing with that glint in her eyes. Ron glared at Malfoy and walked away, glancing over his shoulder as he left. As soon as he was gone, Hermione turned that icy glare on Harry and Draco. Both boys involuntarily stepped back a step.

"Now," she said quietly, " you two are going to call an end to this stupid feud once and for all. You don't have to like each other, you don't have to become best mates or even acknowledge each other existence. But what you will NOT do is physically hex, curse, or maul each other in any way--or egg your friends on to do it for you," she added sternly as Malfoy smirked. "I refuse to stand by anymore and see innocent bystanders hurt as the result of you two when there are innocent people dying as we speak!"

"And just what gives you the power or right to order me around like this, Mudblood?" He sneered.

There was a flash, and the tip of Hermione's wand was resting lightly in the hollow of his throat.

"Because whether either of us like it or not, I'm a Slytherin now, and Slytherins use any means possible to achieve their ends. Which means that if I hear that word come out of your mouth again I not only could, I would hex you into the middle of next month without hesitation," she replied sweetly. "Now, do we have a truce?"

Harry had been watching the entire exchange with an expression of mingled shock, amusement, and horror on his face. He met Malfoy's gaze squarely, and a long assessing look passed between them. Harry arched a brow in silent challenge.

"So no physically hexing, cursing, or mauling each other?" Malfoy drawled. "Hm. That leaves verbal insults and curses. Better brush up on your vocabulary Potter--if I'm going to restrain myself to verbally insulting you, I at least want a half way worthy opponent. No sputtering and turning interesting shades of red and orange like the Weasel does."

"I'll be sure to practice Mal-ferret, just for you," Harry retorted sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Hermione rolled her own eyes as well, glad that they had accepted the truce but becoming increasingly nervous about the amount of time they had spent in the Great Hall. All the other students were long gone, and the long tables were cleared and sparkling once more.

"As fun as I'm sure it would be to listen to you two natter on at each other," she interrupted, "may I remind you that we have classes at eight in the morning tomorrow and curfew starts in exactly" she checked her watch "two minutes! We need to get downstairs to the dungeons before Snape or one of the other professors catch us! I'm surprised someone hasn't said anything already!"

Taking charge once again, she bolted for Slytherin House, the two boys hot on her heels. In the shadows a lone figure watched them leave. Chuckling to himself, Albus Dumbledore shook his head. "Well, you devious old Hat," he murmured, "it seems you have made the right decision after all. I just hope Miss Granger is up to the challenges ahead."

Text from the Wayback Machine's capture of the site, 14 April 2005.

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