Chapter 7 "Duel"
Meanwhile, October found most of the students settling into their respective niches. I'd had higher hopes for the DA than some glorified charms workshop, but, of course, Harry was never one for lesson plans. He'd always left that to me, and now…
Well, luckily Graves' class more than made up for it.
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In DADA, Draco and Hermione usually sat towards the back, apart from the other students. Not that anyone complained. Drake's Slytherin status branded him an outcast and Hermione's break with Ron and Harry had left her, at best, in a sort of social limbo.
"Miss Granger," Graves motioned for Hermione to come to the front of the class. She swallowed hard before she rose from her seat and followed Harry down the aisle. Graves had just asked Harry to help with a Priso Pretego demonstration and Hermione had volunteered earlier that day, not realizing who she'd be partnered with. Not that she was complaining.
Even though they stood an awkwardly apart on the room's central stage, it was the closest they'd been since that summer day.
Draco winked and shot her an encouraging Team Rocket thumbs-up. She turned away with a smile, which turned grim when she noticed Harry's dark look. She decided to focus on Grave's words instead of Harry's nearness, hoping to get through the demonstration quickly and quietly.
"Mr. Potter," Graves's voice interrupted her thoughts. "I'd like you to do a simple Protego blocking spell. Miss Granger, I want you to use the Stupify-Ambergris combination." He paused a beat before adding, "Oh, and Miss Granger, try not to break any windows this time. Mr. Malfoy may find that endlessly amusing, but I'm sure Filch will be less than thrilled."
She nodded shyly before turning to Harry with a blank, all-business stare. Hermione took a breath and made sure Harry was ready be leveling the requested spells.
"Stupify!" "Ambergris!" She shouted as two streaks of light flew across the room.
Harry blocked both easily and, without a word to Hermione, waited for Graves' response.
"Again Miss Granger." Graves said with a nod. "Only this time, use your own combination."
Hermione closed her eyes and concentrated.
"Serpensortia!" She shouted as a long, black cobra appeared from her wand. It landed in a tangle on the floor, stretching a bit before it lazily wound its way towards a frozen Harry.
Harry stared at the snake for a moment, realizing where he'd seen it last and who she'd probably learned it from. He cringed at the thought of Draco's arms around her, positioning her hands, helping her perfect the blasted snake curse he'd used during the second year duel.
Not realizing Harry's distraction, Hermione summoned the second part of the spell, a stunning Ambergris curse that struck Harry above the shoulder and sent him flying across the room.
"Harry!" she screamed as he landed with a painful-sounding thud on the stone floor. She ran to Harry as the class got to its feet. She was shaking so hard she nearly dropped her wand as she knelt at his side.
"Oh gods, Harry," Hermione felt the tears welling in her eyes. She put her hand over her mouth to suppress a cry. Gods, why didn't he block me, I wasn't even trying to hit him…
Draco held Hermione back they both followed Graves and the leviosaed-Harry to the infirmary.
"It was a nice shot though, love," Draco muttered as they approached the hospital wing. She elbowed him the ribs without looking up.
"Well, it was…" he trailed off. We could've used her in Slytherin, he thought with a smile. Damn spell didn't work out nearly so well when I used it.
Nurse Pomfrey fussed over the unconscious Harry in her usual way, shooing Hermione and Draco out of the ward after Graves left.
"I'm staying here, Drake," Hermione murmured as the doors closed behind them. Poor Harry…gods I'm sorry…
"What for?" Ron's voice rang out behind them.
Draco and Hermione turned to find the seething red-head glaring at them.
Hermione took a breath as she stepped forward, determined to handle this gracefully.
"Piss off Weasley," Draco sneered before she could speak.
Hermione rolled her eyes. Okay. So much for diplomacy. Now on to Plan B.
"Ron, we're just here…" she started.
"To what?" Ron interrupted. "To finish him off? I knew you were hanging around Malfoy, but jeez, I didn't think megalomania was contagious."
"What? As opposed pathological stupidity?" Draco shot back.
Hermione nudged him. "You're not helping Drake," she said sternly.
"Well neither is he," Draco hissed.
She shook her head and gave a long-suffering sigh. "I'm staying Ron, and that's final."
"You're not a prefet Hermione," Ron replied stubbornly.
"No," Hermione agreed slowly. "We're assistants to Professor Graves, and we're overseeing an injury that took place during class."
"Yeah, an injury that you caused."
"All the more reason," Drake said smugly, fondly remembering Harry's fall. "So why don't you just toddle off to class and let the adults do their job?"
Ron glared at the pair of them before he uttered something about her being a 'traitor' and strode down the hall.
"Oh my," Hermione sighed, rubbing her forehead. And to think, bickering with Ron used to be fun. Those were the days…
"You want me to stay on a bit love?" Draco asked gently.
She shook her head.
"Come on…" he went on with a smile. "Where's your Team Rocket sportsmanship? I want to spell him back under when he wakes up."
She swatted at him and he held his arms up in a mock surrender.
"S'not fair," he pouted. "You have all the fun. All right. Next time, I stun Potter, and you deal with the Weasley git." He saluted her and strode down the corridor humming that stupid 'Draco's-got-a-girl-friend' tune.
Hermione shook her head and sunk onto a bench across from the ward door. Yep…those were the days…
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Harry lay awake in the cot, thinking about that afternoon's events. All right, yes, it was the first tangible proof of the Trio's estrangement since the summer, but still, no reason to be discouraged just because you blew the best bloody thing that'd ever happened to you you stupid stubborn git…
Harry sat up and stretched, pointedly ignoring the Hermione sounding voice that was berating him. Pomfrey came over with some foul-smelling potions, which he took without cringing, and he waved his thanks before gathering his things.
At least he'd only lost a few hours. He'd even be in time for dinner if he hurried. Harry opened the ward's doors and turned, ready to race to the dining hall, when he noticed Hermione, curled up on a bench across the hallway.
Puzzled, he approached her quietly, concern clouding his features. Gods, did she get hit too? He looked her over but couldn't find any signs of injury.
"Hermione?" he said softly.
Hermione stirred a bit and sat up startled.
"Harry?" She asked, blinking a bit. Realizing it was in fact Harry, who was, in fact, not dead, she leapt to her feet. "Harry!" She cried as she threw herself into his arms. Harry went rigid at first but then relaxed into the familiar hug.
Hermione smiled against his shoulder. Goddess it felt good to hold him. Just like the countless hugs they'd shared since first year. She savored it, enjoying herself far too much before it ended.
"Are you all right?" She asked, blushing a bit as she took a step back.
"All right?" He repeated, still stunned from the crushing hug. Gods she smells good…
"I'm sorry I hit you…I didn't…" she stopped herself. Hermione didn't want to insult his dueling, but dear gods, how could she apologize for his missing an easy block?
"No," he interrupted. "It was my fault. I wasn't paying attention."
Hermione leveled her best Head-Girl-in-the-making gaze at him. "What? Why not?" If he was like this against her then he'd be no match for Voldemort. He'd be Sitting Duck Potter. Even more so than usual.
Harry gave her a sad smile. "That last spell, the Serpensortia. I remember it from second year." He shrugged. "I'm just surprised Draco taught it to you…" and that you'd use it on me.
Hermione stared at him a moment before sighing. "Harry," she shook her head, "I wasn't trying to surprise you." She forced a laugh. "That was the point. I wanted to use a spell you'd already seen."
"You…what?" Harry asked, relieved, confused, and, well, mostly confused. Understanding Hermione's proactive steps to preserve his wellbeing was never his talent.
"And besides," she added softly. "Draco didn't teach me that." She gathered her books with a sigh. "I learned it by watching you." She turned away, missing the play of emotions across Harry's face.
"I was always watching you," she added sadly before disappearing down the darkening corridor, leaving Harry to wonder what in the hezpah just happened.
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No, I didn't feel better if that's what you're thinking. All in all it was just more fodder for Harry's Hermione's-gone-crazy cannon. Besides, he wouldn't recognize a declaration of love if it sat on him. Mmmmm. Now there's a nice visual. Anyhow, I left Harry at the infirmary and the Great Schism continued. Time passed, tests were taken, Quidditch rivalries raged…
…and Harry and I remained Harry and I. We had several classes together but always managed to keep a tactful distance apart. In DADA he paired up with Ron or Dean and I kept to Drake or Lavender. The split was accepted in the house…and with Harry's Quidditch schedule and my own study tract, well, I won't say I didn't feel the loss, but I can say I was kept too busy to regret it.
The old Trio was now more of a Duo…really the way it was supposed to be from the start. Ginny looked ready to step in as Harry's gal-Friday, but got caught up with Quidditch and her own fifth-year circle of friends. Then, for a while, it looked like Ron's steady girlfriend Lavender might prove an acceptable alternative, but rumor had it that Ron really didn't want Lav doting on The Boy Who Lived like I did.
Depressing? What, waiting for some clever, prettier, low maintenance girl to take your place in the single most important thing you've ever been a part of? To wait until my Harry found someone more capable and less likely to get hit with a Crucio curse and damn his godfather to a painful death? Depressing?
No, not really.
Well, maybe. But I was too busy screaming into my pillow every night to worry about whether or not I was depressed.