The Courage of Hermione Granger

Catrina hadn’t moved. Hermione watched the girl thoughtfully for a moment, wondering if she should wake her up. After all, they and Lucien had planned on skipping out early so as not to deal with the wrath of Harry, Draco, and Blaise before breakfast. Still, she didn’t know the younger girl and wasn’t entirely convinced of her intentions even after the events of the night before. Luckily, the clock on the nightstand made the decision for her, clocking over to 6:15 and going off with the force of a fire alarm. Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin, automatically going for her wand. The stream of curses coming from the bed, however, shocked her out of her, well, shock. She listened in horrified fascination.

“---gods-be-dammed, bloody arse clock! Can’t a girl sleep in for ten more minutes?” Catrina grumbled, throwing the covers off and stumbling to the bathroom without even acknowledging Hermione’s presence.

Despite herself, Hermione snickered, and settled down to wait. Twenty minutes later a damp but awake Catrina emerged.

“And a good morning to you too,” Hermione said with a grin.

The younger girl winced, tying off her French braid and tossing it over her shoulder. “Morning. I should’ve warned you; I’m a bear in the morning. It’s not a good idea to speak or have anything to do with me until I’ve had a shower at least.”

“I figured as much,” Hermione laughed. “It’s nearly seven. Do you think we’ll escape unscathed?”

It felt like a whole field full of Snitches were fluttering and diving in her stomach. Hermione mentally snorted Ron and Harry would appreciate the description more than she did.

Catrina groaned. “Probably not. We better nip down there and see if Luc is still in one piece.”

Hermione followed her room mate down the stairs, wand in her sleeve. She really didn’t want to start the morning with a hexing, but if certain sixth-year boys were still being pig-headed, well, hexing was one of the only ways to get through to them. She waited impatiently by the portrait-hole as Catrina hovered by the stairs, waiting for Luc. He finally appeared, glancing apprehensively behind him.

“I heard movement in their rooms, but no one appeared! Let’s move, quick!” he hissed, and the two bolted for the exit.

They were half-way across the room when Catrina stopped in her tracks.

“Hey!” She tried to move her feet, but they were stuck—literally—to the floor.

Beside her, Luc was struggling just as hard.

“Well, well, well,” Draco Malfoy drawled from the stairs, “look what I caught.”

Catrina and Luc exchanged a nervous look and gulped.

“Going somewhere little sis?” Blaise purred, circling around her like she was a tasty rabbit and he a panther about to pounce.

Hermione raised her wand, not sure what she was about to do was the right (or smartest) thing, but not about to let her rescuers and only allies so far be left to whatever fate their angry older siblings had in mind.

“Finite---“

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Harry said from behind her, stepping through the portrait hole, wand at the ready.

She jumped and whirled around to face him. Seeing the gleam in his eyes, she backed up, inadvertently ending up in the center of the room with the other two hapless victims.

“Harry, I—“

“Don’t.” He held up a hand, green eyes glinting dangerously behind his glasses. “Just…don’t.”

Hermione pursed her lips, but remained silent. Satisfied, Harry arched a meaningful brow at Draco.

“We’re going outside by the lake. Have fun you four. Malfoy, Zabini, don’t kill them. It’s too messy, and you don’t have enough time before class.”

The two fifth-years paled at his words, while the older two boys smirked evilly. Blaise pointed his wand at the carpet by Hermione’s feet and muttered something, enabling her to walk normally once again. Harry motioned for her to step through the portrait-hole, wand still pointing steadily at her. As she passed, he took her wand and pocketed it, before following her silently out.

“Harry—“

“Do. Not. Speak. Until. We. Get. To. The. Lake,” he growled.

She bit her lip, automatically smiling wanly at the students she recognized, all the while aware of Harry prowling on her right side, a step behind as they made their way silently out to the lake. When he stopped she did as well, not daring to speak. She watched warily as he paced, unbending enough to lean against a nearby tree, but not letting her guard down one whit. He saw the cautious look and sighed, stopping to face her.

“Don’t worry Hermione. I’m not going to bite. It’s just…what the bloody HELL were you thinking last night?” He exploded, running a hand through his already disheveled black hair before beginning to pace again. “Dammit Hermione, you could’ve gotten hurt! What if Malfoy had thrown a punch while you were in the way? Hm? Or tried a curse? His father is a bloody Death Eater, he probably knows some nasty spells--“

Her jaw dropped. “Is that what this is about?” She interrupted furiously. “That I might have gotten hurt because you are too damn bloody stubborn to control your temper for once? You didn’t believe that I could take care of myself? You have another think coming, Harry James Potter, if you thought that I—“

“I thought you had betrayed me!” He shouted. “The way you jumped in and threatened to curse Malfoy so easily, and then with Snape later, and then Petrifying me, you just fit in so easily, and I didn’t know what to think!”

She stopped in mid-tirade, eyes wide.

“I asked the Sorting Hat why it had put you in Slytherin,” he continued, more quietly. “It wouldn’t give me a straight answer, just some cryptic advice about keeping your friends close, and your enemies closer, and something about not everything is what it—or they—seem.” He sighed, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. “I just…with that, plus trying to deal with Malfoy…” He trailed off.

Hermione stepped forward until she was standing directly in front of him, although he avoided her gaze.

“Harry James Potter,” she said sternly. “I am still a Gryffindor, not matter what that old Hat says, just as you are. Last night was just me bluffing, caught up by the heat of the moment. I’m your best friend Harry, no matter what happens or which House you’re in. I’m not going to betray you or walk away and leave you alone. Believe that.”

Harry reluctantly looked up to see warm brown eyes watching him steadily, full of compassion and understanding.

“We’ve been friends for six years now. If you haven’t gotten rid of me yet, you’re not going to.” A glimmer of a smile appeared. “Not even when you’re being hotheaded and bloody minded and the only way to get through to you is to knock you upside the head.”

The tension broke, and Harry smiled ruefully.

“Apparently. I have the lump to prove it,” he answered, rubbing the back of his head.

Hermione winced. “Actually, that would be when Luc was floating you three upstairs. The corner was kind of tight.”

“Hmph.”

When she would have turned toward the castle and breakfast, he stopped her.

“Hermione.”

She turned, tilting her head to the side. “What?”

“So…we’re alright then? You and me?”

A bright smile lit her face, making Harry’s heart leap in his chest.

“Yes Harry. We’re alright. Now come on. We’re going to miss breakfast, and we still need to get our schedules for the year. Plus Ron might be going on a rampage if we don’t make an appearance.” She turned once again for the castle. With a sigh and inward smile, Harry followed suit.