Chapter 8
Hermione had had a very stressful week. Avoiding Harry had been a harder feat then she imagined. She never thought that he would be that hard of a person to ignore. If what Draco had said was true, Harry sure was doing a hell of a good job of acting the polar opposite of his allegations. But that's just what she expected him to do. Chase after her, his perfect grade looming in his thoughts. Wanker. It didn't help matters when she was attending her detention with Professor Snape. That just sent her thoughts into a tailspin and made her question her judgment twice as much.
She had entered the dungeons approximately ten minutes before the detention was scheduled to begin, hoping that she could somehow weasel out early so that she could finish up her assignments before bed. But, unfortunately, Professor Snape had other plans. As soon as she set her things down atop of a desk, he lifted his head from its position looming over his desk and smirked towards her.
"Ahh, Miss Granger." He looked towards a corner of his desk, where she assumed a clock laid, and looked back up to her, "You are a full ten minutes early to this detention? Eager to get it over with, are we?"
Hermione remained silent as she took her seat. "Sorry to burst your bubble, but your eagerness only earned you ten more minutes of cleaning my potion vials and placing my ingredients into them." She held back a groan, as she got up out of her seat and walked towards Snape's desk.
"Where do you want me to start?" she asked him, trying hard to avoid his gaze.
"You can start by going over to that cauldron full of water and washing the vials on the desk next it until they sparkle." He said, pointing next to a bubbling cauldron next to his desk.
"Yes, sir." She replied as she walked over to the cauldron and got started. And that's how she spent the first fifteen minutes of her detention, scrubbing his precious glass vials. She had to hold back a gag when she discovered residue of a rather questionable nature inside one of the larger vials. She was so transfixed by her work that she felt her heart leap out of her chest when the door of the classroom opened, emitting a soft squeal.
It was only when she steadied her ragged breathing that she turned back to her work. She wouldn't let some intruder interrupt her detention; she would finish her work and get the hell out of there as fast as she could. She heard Snape emit a grumble from behind her and tried to shake it off, but when he spoke, she froze.
"Ah, Mister Potter, how nice of you to join us"
Holy. Shit. He couldn't really be here, could he? She had done such a good job of avoiding him so far! Hermione resisted the urge to crane her neck to take a peek at him. He was the guy who was using her. The guy that she was upset at to the highest extent. The guy that she would forgive in a second if she let her guard down. She had to remain calm for sake of her sanity, if not for her own good.
"Since you so carelessly neglected to show up on time to detention, I shall have no trouble holding you the five extra minutes you spend lollygagging about."
That's odd, Hermione thought, He's criticizing and punishing one of his own house. Hermione had never seen him be rude to him in Potions class, which they so conveniently had together. Usually Snape would praise his house and demean the likes of the others. So why would he be mean to Harry, a member of his own house, for a matter he would most surly overlook if they had been late to class?
"You may take a seat next to Miss Granger; she can explain to you what you must do for the remainder of your time. Other than that, I expect to hear no talking between the likes of you two."
"Of course, sir" She could sense the sarcasm of his remark and resisted the urge to smile; it would only weaken her wall.
"Mind your attitude, Potter, or I shall hold you an extra five minutes."
"I'm trembling in my socks, Snivillus." Snivillus?
"Call me that again, Potter, and you'll be facing a whole week's worth of detention with Filtch and his shackles." Apparently Harry had hit a nerve, for there was nothing kidding about Snape's allegation. Why were they giving each other such a hard time?
"You think that scares me? What would be scary was if you actually took a big handful of shampoo and decided to wash your hair. That's a sure sign of the apocalypse right there." Hermione could sense his smirk and let a small breath of laughter escape through her nose. It was funny because it was true.
"Take your seat, Mister Potter." Snape said through clenched teeth, "We'll discuss your amount of punishment later."
"Looking forward to it" Harry said with mock triumph. Seemingly pleased that he had out-witted the Potions Master. It didn't seem to be much trouble, though. All it was were a few well-worded hair insults and a rather bizarre, yet totally appropriate, nickname. "Snivillus" Harry murmured as he took his seat next to Hermione.
"What was that, Potter?"
"Nothing, nothing at all" Harry replied, scooting his chair closer to Hermione then she was comfortable with. "So what are we doing?" he asked her in a whispered tone.
Hermione took a deep breath and answered as bluntly as she could, "Wash the vials, then place the proper ingredients into them when they are all cleaned out."
"Seems easy enough." he said, grabbing a dirty vial and soaking it in the bubbling water.
"Mmm" Hermione replied as she continued her work. They continued like that for the next few minutes, picking up where Hermione had left off in cleaning the vials in silence. Hermione thought that she was getting off easier than anticipated when she felt Harry nudge her slightly in the side. She took a sharp intake of breath and continued to scrub a rather large green vial.
"Psst, `Mione." He whispered to her.
She made no motion that she as listening, when in reality she was hanging on every word. With those few syllables, he was breaking down her carefully placed wall. She thought it would be easier to ignore him. What Draco said was so blunt and carefully worded that she thought her hatred of him would be enough to push him away and keep him there. Apparently he had a greater effect on her then she thought.
"`Mione!" he whispered more loudly.
"I said no talking!" Snape scorned the two.
Harry seemed unphased by his tone as he kept poking Hermione in the side of the stomach. She squirmed a bit when she hit her tender, more ticklish spots, and finally gave up and turned her head to glare at him. "What?!" she whispered, hoping not to be overheard by Snape. Unlike Harry, she was very much afraid of the dark professor and didn't like the idea of more detention then she deserved.
Harry seemed taken aback by the way she answered his pleads for attention, "Are you alright?" he asked.
Hermione inwardly rolled her eyes. If only he knew. . . . She focused her attention back to the vials as she answered to his concerns. "I'm fine. I just want to finish this detention."
"I've never heard that one before. It's usually `Damn, I can't wait to get out of here, Harry. Please distract me!'"
Hermione bit back a chuckle. She knew he would be more open to talk to her if she had some sort of response to his jokes-no matter how lame they were. The less he talked, the easier it would be on her and her wall. "Yeah, well not all of us have the courage to stand up to the teacher and earn detentions that will end up on our permanent records until we graduate."
He snorted, "You're so superficial. You need to live a little."
"And you need to grow up!" Hermione instantly regretted her outburst as soon as she said it. He was silent behind her. She had hit a nerve. She had actually offended him. It's for your own good; you're better off without him. Hermione knew that wasn't true, but she couldn't let herself give into him again. He would only use her again.
"Not all of us can have the mind of a shriveled old maid." He whispered tensely to her.
Hermione instantly whipped her head in his direction, a comeback on the tip of her tongue. The only thing stopping her was the shadow over her shoulder. She instantly shut her mouth and turned to face the annoyed professor, a fearful expression crossing her face.
"When I said no talking, I meant it, Miss Granger. One more outburst on wither of your parts and you will be facing detention until the end of your school careers." With that, he stalked off, leaving a pale-faced Hermione and an unphased Harry in his wake. It was safe to say that they were silent the rest of the time. But that didn't stop Harry from trying to get her attention, probably to apologize. That was the kind of guy he was. But Hermione had to hold onto his last comment, soak it for all it was worth, in order to muster the strength to ignore his not-so-subtle attempts at getting her attention. It was a low blow, so it wasn't hard to do . . . but with his elbow making contact to her side, his hand waving in front of her face . . . he wasn't making it easy on her.
"Miss Granger, you are free to go."
Those words released her from the hell that was Harry. She bolted up from her seat by the cauldron and desk piled with full vials of potions and gathered her possessions as fast as she could without seeming to obvious. Her attempts were futile, however. She felt Harry's eyes on her back until the moment she closed the heavy wooden door to the classroom, even then not feeling his gaze lift from the door until she was well down the corridor. She left detention that night confused, flustered, and very much out of breath from the run to her dormitory.
Ginny had found her in her dormitory that night, crying her eyes out into her pillow. She spilled everything to the redhead, including the information that Harry was using her for his own gain. When asked how she came into knowledge with this information, she lied, saying that she overheard Harry bragging it to his classmates. She knew Ginny would somehow find Draco and curse him within an inch of his life if she found out what he said and how he said it to her. She didn't even want to think of the consequences he had mentioned if she had told anyone.
It had been a week since then and every History of Magic class, she was forced to converse with Harry about the assignment, but that was all their conversations were based on. Every time he tried to change to subject, she would bluntly change the subject and bolt out of the classroom as soon as the bell had rung. They hadn't met in the library since `that day' when Hermione was faced to face the truth. She knew his friendship was too good to be true, there had to be some background on why he had warmed up to her so quickly. Every night she had gone to sleep crying, Ginny trying her best to comfort her loss of a friend.
And so here she was, facing Harry outside of the dormitory window, having just agreed to ride with on his room and talk. She didn't know what made her say it, but with him floating outside of the window and his desperate pleas for her to talk to him it was too much to resist. She knew she was in for it as soon as he made her snort with his Shakespearian reference, and she was right.
The gravity of the situation hit her as soon as he grinned. She had just agreed to ride a broom. An actual broomstick . . . with Harry. She gulped as she lifted herself on the small bench that resided beneath the window and opened t wider as she prepared to lift herself onto his broom. Just forget about the height and the fact that you're only source of safety is a thin stick and you'll be alright. She told herself. Harry flew the broom closer to her, so that it was halfway inside the dormitory. She smiled in thanks as she mounted it slowly in front of him. They both adjusted to the new positions they were in by Hermione leaning into Harry's front more snugly and Harry placing his arms around Hermione to grip the broom in from of her. With their positions adjusted, the two of them flew off into the distance, neither aware of the smirking girl in the doorway behind them.
Hermione closed her eyes tightly as soon as she felt the broom take off. Harry leaned in and chuckled when he saw her. Hermione opened one eye and scowled, "Not all of us were born to be Quidditch stars."
"Not all of us are afraid of heights, either." He replied amusingly.
"I am not afraid of heights!" Hermione tried to deny. She opened both eyes to see him cocking a brow at her, and she sighed in defeat. "Alright so I might be a little afraid of heights."
"A little . . ." he said skeptically. She was about to answer him when she felt Harry tint the broom and send them plunging down towards the forbidden forest. She let out a high pitched scream as she saw the ground fast approaching them.
"HARRY!"
He laughed as he straightened out the broom and sent them gliding smoothly upwards, a highly distraught Hermione breathing heavily. "A little, huh?" he stated, completely amused of the situation.
"I-Hate-You!" she panted/screamed at him. His response was a smirk as he leveled out the broom and breathed out a puff of contentment. Hermione seemed to have calmed down as well, as she had her breathing evened out and her back un-tensed. They stayed like that for a while, just flying through the clear sky, completely relaxed.
"So do you want to talk now?" Harry asked after what seemed to be an hour of silence.
Hermione's back re-tensed as she turned to look him in the eyes. She saw the pleading they were emitting and took in a sharp intake of breath. "I guess I have to, don't I?"
"You could say that."
"What do you want to know?" she asked. She knew it was a stupid question, but she didn't want to jump into any explanations and give too much away that she wasn't supposed to.
"Well, first off, why you're ignoring me."
Hermione turned back to gaze at the sky as she let out her breath in a small puff. She leaned into Harry's chest and began to explain the confrontation with Malfoy; she felt his chest contract beneath her as she retold her experience with him. She felt tears want to escape, but held them back, wanting to see his reaction without the effect of her tears. When she was finished she looked back at him and saw that he had his jaw clenched and was looking at the starry horizon.
"Harry?" she asked.
He didn't speak for a moment, as though still absorbing the story she had just told. But when he did speak, it was so full of emotion that she let a tear escape. "I'm going to kill him."
"Please don't." she pleaded, "He said there would be consequences if I ever told anyone. Especially you." His expression softened as he looked down into her eyes.
"So what do you want me to do about it, pretend that he never said those lies?"
Hermione hesitated a moment before she spoke reproachfully, "So it's not true?"
"Of course not! Hermione, I care for you, I really do. I would never use you -nor anyone else, for that matter- for my own advantage, especially if it meant hurting you and our friendship."
Hermione didn't even try to stop the tears as they flowed freely down her cheeks. Harry looked pained to see her cry, wiping away the tears with one of his hands, the other securely keeping them afloat. Hermione smiled reassuringly, silently telling him that she was okay. He smiled back in response and looked back at their path in the sky. Hermione looked around curiously, trying to see if any of their surroundings were familiar. She could only see trees. "Harry, where are we?" she asked him.
"If you look ahead, you can see that we're fast approaching Hogsmeade Village." And sure enough when Hermione looked towards the distance, she could see the rooftops of the familiar town. Harry smiled down at her, "Feel like a warm butterbeer?" he asked.
Hermione looked up at him in worry, "Won't we get in trouble?"
He chuckled, "Don't worry, Hermione, I've done this once or twice before and you don't see me expelled now do you?"
Hermione just rolled her eyes and looked back at the fast-approaching village. After about five minutes, Harry tilted the broom for a soft landing on the gravel below. Hermione felt her feet touch the ground while Harry let the broom hover above the ground to let them both slide off without trouble. They had landed curiously in front of the Three Broomsticks, but when Hermione turned her questioning look towards Harry, all she saw was him smirking at her and she was silence. He then moved his hand above the broom and an opaque blue shield surrounded it. This boy worked in mysterious ways.
They entered the bar to a few curious heads lifting up to smile in greeting to the two young students. "How ya doin', Harry" she heard a distant voice ask from a table to their left.
"Alright, Abe." He answered curtly.
"How've you been, Harry? Who's the pretty girl?" Another voice asked from the bar, causing Hermione to blush an appropriate shade of pink.
"Fine, Ethan." He replied, ignoring the question to Hermione's name. Ethan looked unphased by his answer, as though he was expecting him to ignore the comment altogether. This led Hermione to wonder if Harry had done this before. By this she meant if he had ever taken a girl to a bar after hours just like he was now. She felt Harry tug on her hand slightly with his own as he led them towards the far side of the bar, well away from the other customers.
The bartender, Madame Rosmerta greeted Harry with a toothy grin like the others and approached the two with swift ease. "The usual, Harry?"
"Two, please." He replied with a nod.
Rosmerta smiled and disappeared into the back. Harry turned his barstool towards Hermione and she looked at him with mock-amusement. "Once or twice, huh?"
"Did I say one or twice? What I really meant was three or four." He said seriously. The two of them burst out laughing at their poor attempts of a serious conversation and looked towards the other.
"So what's the usual, then?" Hermione asked in curiosity.
"Rum and hash brownies, of course." Harry replied with a smirk. Hermione hit him playfully on the shoulder and he rubbed it, pouting a bit. Hermione rolled her eyes as she waited for him to sober up. "Alright, you caught me. It's a butterbeer and these truly excellent scones."
Hermione cocked a brow, "I didn't know the Wizarding community served scones."
"But of course. My favorite is the lemon-poppy seed, but I usually get the lot anyways." He said, licking his lips in anticipation. As if on cue, Madame Rosmerta approached them with two butterbeers and two plates of scones in hand. They both said a polite `thank-you' and began to consume their orders.
Hermione sighed as if in heaven when she bit into her first scone. Blueberry, with a hint of glaze on the surface. Harry looked at her, transfixed with her consumption of the snack food. When Hermione looked up to meet his gaze she asked, "What?"in curiosity. But instead of the cool mood she was going for, her cheeks turned red as crumbs of her scone spilled out of her mouth. The two of them started laughing, Hermione covering her mouth to prevent the crumbs from leaking out of her mouth again.
"You truly are a piece of work, Hermione." Harry said as he took a sip of his butterbeer.
"How so?" Hermione asked as she wiped her mouth with a napkin from beneath her plate of scones.
"You are a know-it-all bookworm, totally obsessed with following the rules and determined to have a clean record. Yet here you are, fresh off of an after-curfew broom ride in a local bar with me."
"Hey, it's mostly your fault! You've had a very bad influence on me." Hermione confessed weakly.
"Is that really such a bad thing?" He asked.
"Yes!" she giggle-yelled. Harry laughed at her outburst as she continued, "I was a perfectly well-rounded student a person until we got paired up!"
"Oh sure you were . . ." Harry said sarcastically.
Hermione's mouth dropped open in shock. Of course she was! How dare he insist that she wasn't! "And what makes you say that, Mister High-and-Mighty?"
He chuckled, looking down at the bar, then back at her dramatically. "All of those impure things you've said about one Mister Ronald Weasley doesn't help your cause."
Hermione's eyes widened, "That's totally different! He deserves it!"
"That may be true, but it still proves my point. You, Miss Granger, were well on your way to non-perfection before you even met me." He said with a smirk, confidant that he had won the battle.
Hermione had different ideas, "I never said I was perfect!"
"It was implied!" he countered.
"Yeah . . . well . . . nice hair!" She shouted back, causing him to double over in laughter. Hermione, too, couldn't resist the urge to join him. It was a rather awful comeback.
"That was the worst comeback in the history of comebacks!"He accused, now midway sober of his fit of laughter.
"I know. But I couldn't think of anything else to say." She confessed meekly, taking a bite of a crème cheese scone from her half-eaten plate.
"Really? I highly doubt that." Harry said, mocking her action and taking a bite of a raspberry scone, looking pointedly at her.
Hermione took a chug of butterbeer before answering his call. "Oh, Miss Perfect can't give up a fight once in a while? It's a lot of work to keep an argument going, especially one with Mister Wit himself."
"Mister Wit, huh?" he asked, clearly amused with his nickname.
"Yeah! Don't think that I wasn't suppressing the urge to laugh when you were telling off Snape!"
"Oh, old Snivillus?" Harry said, waving his hand in a breezy motion, "That's nothing, you should see what I'm like on my good days."
Hermione giggled, picturing Harry and Ron bickering in the Great Hall. She had snuck a peek behind her in order to hear a few well-placed insults and Ron sulking in defeat. That had been a good day. "What's up with you and Snape, anyways?"
"What do you mean?" He asked in curiosity.
Hermione looked at him seriously, "Well you and him really seem to hate each other. I find it odd, since you're of his own house that he would make such drastic threats as to get you punished for calling him a few names."
Harry chuckled, bowing his head so his bangs where covering her view of his eye. He shook his head slightly before resurfacing and brushing the stray hair out of his eyes. "You really want to know?"
She nodded in response.
Harry adjusted himself in his seat, half leaning on the bar. Hermione had a feeling this was going to be a very intriguing story, so she crossed her legs and placed her ands atop her lap, gently laying her head in her hand. She was ready to listen. "Well, way back when my Mum was a kid, her and good `ol Snivillus were friends-if you could call it that. He told her that she was a witch and became her only companion when she came to Hogwarts. My Mum was raised by Muggles, like you and me, so it was good that she had someone to explain the Wizarding World to her. Well, through the years, my Dad and his friends continually teased him, called him Snivillus and such, and one of the only people to defend him was my mum. Snape was always jealous of my dad. His Quidditch skills, his fascination with the ladies, and later, when he had my Mum. He fell in love with her." He spat the last part in disgust as Hermione gagged and giggled at the same time.
"Do you want me to continue?" he asked.
"Even though my curiosity is filled . . . I think you should."
Harry smiled as he continued to fill Hermione in. He told her about when he saw Snape's memory in fifth year, how Snape vowed to look over him in his love for Lily, the prophesy. Hermione was in tuned the entire time, not interrupting in his epic tale. Harry even went as far as telling her how he defeated Voldermort that past summer and Hermione felt so much pity for him, but was still in awe. How could such an innocent boy see so many horrible things?
When he was done, both he and Hermione let out a steady breath. "Well, that surely wasn't what I was expecting when I asked you that." She said jokingly. They both laughed at that.
"Alright, enough about me, tell me about you." He said, leaning forward.
"What do you wanna know?" she asked, mocking him.
"Let's see . . . favorite color?" he asked.
"I've always liked purple." She replied.
And it went on like that for hours, the two of them exchanging childhood stories, answering silly questions, and enjoying each other's company. By the time they were well out of stories it was nearly two o'clock in the morning. "Oh wow." Hermione said, "I didn't realize it was that late."
"Me either" Harry replied, glancing at the clock on the wall.
"Maybe we should go, then." Hermione suggested, making a move to get up.
Harry grabbed her by the wrist and shook his head. "Not yet, I wanna do something first." He said. He whistled loudly and gestured to Madame Rosmerta, who came over willingly and stood by him. "Could you get us two more butterbeers, please?"
"Of course" she said with a smile. She disappeared into the back, but before Hermione could ask anything, she returned with Harry's order and set back to cleaning tables.
"What are those for?" Hermione asked curiously as Harry un-capped the bottles. Smoke emitted slightly from the top as he handed one to her.
"Ever participated in a chugging contest?" he asked with a silly grin on his face.
Hermione smiled slightly, "Once or twice."
"Then you know the rules, I presume?" She nodded her head as Harry counted down from five with one hand and held his butterbeer close to his lips with the other. Hermione watched his fingers carefully, counting down in her head, matching their movements. When his hand formed a fist, both started to chug their drinks, heads up and minds concentrated on winning.
Hermione felt the smooth liquid slide down her throat and she placed her bottle down on the wooden bar and smirked in victory. Harry finished his just a millisecond after her bottle collided with the smooth surface. He looked at her curiously, one eyebrow cocked.
"Did I say once or twice? What I really meant was three or four."
Harry just smiled as he took out money from his pocket and set it on the table to pay for their things. Hermione made a movement to protest, but Harry just shook his head, "It's no problem."
She made no more indication of protest as he led her out into the night. His broom was exactly where they had left it, untouched. His waved his hand a second time and the shield lifted as he mounted. He extended a hand to her and helped her mount back in front of him. They adjusted their positions as they were when they had left the girl's dormitory, but this time, Harry grabbed Hermione's hands and placed them beneath his own at the front of the broom. Hermione looked back at him curiously as he smiled. "Why don't you lead us back?"
Hermione froze, "I-I couldn't." she said nervously.
"Yes, you can, it's simple. Just lift up gently and even out when we're above the rooftops." He instructed. He then tugged on her hands slightly, encouraging her to lift them up. Hermione took a deep breath and complied, hand slightly shaking. Harry noticed this and smiled in amusement, placing his lips by her ear and whispering in her ear, his lips just barely touching her earlobe. "Relax."
With his lips upon her ear, she only felt all the more nervous, but as he removed them and placed his head on her shoulder, she felt her body do just that. Relax. She lifted them up higher until they reached the tops of the village shops and townhouses. "Now even it out." She heard him whisper. She obeyed once again and they took off towards Hogwarts in the distance.
After the first few minutes, Hermione began to become very at ease with the ride. She loosened her tight grip on the handle and let her body mold into Harry's. She even sped up slightly when Harry asked her if she wanted to. Harry laughed into her hair. She felt herself get tired as they neared the castle. She fought the slight dreariness and flew the broom to her window, which was thankfully, still open.
Hermione turned towards Harry and whispered, "I'll see you tomorrow, then?"
"Yeah." He replied with a smile.
The broom was back at its place in between the dormitory and the outside world. Hermione dismounted the broom with surprising ease and made to kneel on the cushioned bench. "You realize I'll have to continue ignoring you until we think of the solution to the `Malfoy Problem'"
"Yeah, but we'll still have our days in the library. Draco hardly goes in there unless he's looking for me."
Hermione smiled, "How about tomorrow, then? We have a lot of work to do before we're finished."
"I'm looking forward to it." Harry said leaning forward on the broom.
Hermione smiled, "Goodnight, Harry."
"G'night `Mione." Harry said as he kissed her cheek gently. Hermione felt herself blush as she waved him off. As soon as he was out of sight, she closed the curtains and left a crack open in the window, wanting a slight in the vacant room. The rest of the house was downstairs, playing witness to a chess tournament that would probably last a few more hours.
Hermione changed into her pajamas and washed up in the bathroom before she headed towards her bed. But when she got there, she found her curtains drawn all around it. That's odd, she thought as she drew back the heavy velvet hangings. She was just about to get into her warm covers when she saw a shadowy face, smirking up at her from a comfortable position atop her pillows and comforter.
"Have a nice flight?"
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