Chapter Text
This is ridiculous, Hermione thought with some frustration. Slughorn was currently grilling Neville on his grandmother- as he had been for the past ten minutes- oblivious to Neville’s obvious discomfort at the intrusive questions.
Hermione wanted to speak up for Neville, but something held her tongue. Maybe it was the overwhelming presence of Slytherins, who would no doubt jump in to defend their Head of House, and she wanted to spare herself the headache. Or maybe she just wasn’t a good enough friend.
The ice cream that Slughorn had set out in front of each student had started to melt into a sticky soup in her bowl the longer she sat. Sprinkles and chocolate chips floated around in the mess. She felt nervous, anticipating the moment when his attention fell on her. She sorely hoped it wouldn’t, but the hope wilted as quickly as it came.
While she entertained herself by slowly stirring her ice cream soup round and round the bowl, Slughorn finally gave up on Neville’s half-answers.
“Ah, Ms. Granger! So glad that you could make an appearance!” He boomed, phrasing it like she had a choice. Well, she supposed in a way she did, but if she didn’t come she was sure he’d never let her hear the end of it. She made a feeble attempt at smiling, nodding rather than actually saying anything.
“Talented one, she is,” he nudged Neville, who gave her a sympathetic smile. The gesture made her feel a little better, but just barely. “Why, I’d say she’s at the top of her class. Besides Harry, of course.” He tittered and Hermione’s grip on her spoon tightened. At the mention of his name, Potter suddenly became interested in the conversation. Hermione suppressed the urge to roll her eyes, but it was a close thing.
Hermione felt annoyance roiling in her stomach, but was forced to agree against her deepest wishes. Potter was good at potions, no denying it. And he did tutor her, albeit for a short time. Still, that didn’t mean she had to like it.
Any hope she might’ve held that the mention of Potter would distract Slughorn from her was quickly diminished. “And just what do your parents do, Ms. Granger? Muggles, are they?”
Hermione swallowed, feeling the eyes of every pureblood fall on her. She nodded, “yes, sir, they are.” She glanced around. “My parents are dentists. They- um- they tend to people’s teeth.”
A beat of silence followed her words. No clinking of spoons, no mumbling or chatter. Just the aftermath of her words. Hermione dared not look around, already feeling a flush rising in her cheeks.
“…ah,” Slughorn finally got out, and Hermione wilted. She swore she heard someone snicker. She thought she might burn up from mortification.
“Fascinating,” he tried, though it was far too late. His opinion was clear enough. “And would you say that it’s a particularly dangerous line of work?”
Hermione’s eyebrows knit together at the odd question. “No… although one boy did bite my father’s finger once. He had to get stitches.” She tried to joke, but it fell completely flat. Slughorn just nodded, turning his attention to a Slytherin she vaguely recognized.
Hermione’s face broke into a frown. What a rude man , she thought. The least he could do is act interested in the things his students tell him, especially when he asked first. She knew it wasn’t a particularly exciting job, but it was important.
In any case, she was at least glad that his attention had shifted onto someone else. She went back to her stirring, eyes wandering over the table. The majority of students were Slytherins or purebloods. Hermione realized with a jolt that she was the only muggleborn invited. Her frown deepened. Looking to her right, she was caught off guard by the sight of Potter staring straight at her. He seemed caught off guard as well, but he didn’t look away.
Frustration coiled in her stomach. What was he playing at now? She narrowed her eyes at him and he flashed her a quick grin. She had the off-hand thought that he looked rather attractive when he grinned like that, then quickly banished it from her head. That’s ridiculous.
She mouthed a what at him and he just shrugged, annoying her even more. How did he manage to get under her skin so easily? She rolled her eyes at him and returned her attention to the soup in front of her. She noticed that Slughorn had moved on to Mclaggen, and Hermione tried to zone them out.
The droning of Slughorn’s voice risked putting her to sleep, and she could hardly wait for the meeting to end. Neville soon caught her attention, mouthing something she thought was are you okay and she nodded. He gave her a smile and she returned it easily. At least Neville was here.
The rest of the night she spent in silence, waiting eagerly for the meeting to end. She was determinedly not interested when Slughorn asked Potter about his parents. Especially not when Potter mentioned that his mother had recently protested the use of house elves in the Wizarding World.
How could a woman like her raise a son like him? She wondered, then banished the thought. That wasn’t exactly fair. A lot of the animosity she felt towards him was due to her own reservations about those raised in the Wizarding World. And while he usually egged her on, he wasn’t necessarily a bad person. Just incredibly annoying.
At last, the moment came where Slughorn finally concluded the meeting, though not before sharing a bit of news.
“You have all received an invitation from me, yes?” He began, continuing only when a few murmurs of yes sounded from around the table.
“Excellent! As you might know, my annual Christmas party has been a tradition of mine for as long as I can remember. Only the most promising students earn an invitation- that’s all of you- and it’s very prestigious. While I cannot force you to, I would strongly advise you to look and act your best. As per tradition, many of my most successful former students will be in attendance. This includes some high up in the Ministry of Magic, as well as some other very respectable figures in the Wizarding World.”
Party? Hermione had thought that it was a dance. A murmur arose from around the table, and Hermione looked around, noticing that some of the others looked confused as well. She found herself glancing over at Potter. Slumped down in his chair, he looked seconds away from rolling his eyes. Hermione frowned.
“This is a very important party, and each of you has a chance to make connections. I sincerely hope that each of you will make an appearance, but once again I cannot force you. That said, I suppose that I must let you go back to your common rooms. I hope to see each of you at my next meeting! You’re all dismissed.”
The scraping of chairs filled the air, and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. She pushed away from the table, trying to seem like she was in no hurry. She met up with Neville at the door, waiting for the other students to file out.
“Hey, Neville.”
He looked startled. “Oh, hi Hermione! I’m really glad you came! And I’m sorry about Slughorn. He’s really something, isn’t he?”
Hermione smiled, exhaling in amusement. “It’s okay. I’m just glad he didn’t pay attention to me for long.”
Neville grimaced. “Yeah, it’s not exactly fun to have him asking about your personal life in front of random people.”
Hermione laughed. “Don’t worry, I don’t think any of us were really paying attention.”
Neville gasped in mock offense. “You mean you weren’t interested in what my grandma did for a living over a decade ago? I’m hurt.”
Hermione laughed again, passing through the doorway into the hall. She liked Neville, why didn’t she spend more time with him?
“Anyway, are you going to go to Slughorn’s party? I’m not sure that I will.” Neville muttered, surprising Hermione.
“Why not? I thought that it was a good opportunity to make connections?”
Neville snorted. “Yeah, if you’re a famous pureblood, maybe. It’s just another popularity contest. None of Slughorn’s “friends” have any interest in anyone who’s not a pureblood, unfortunately.”
Unbidden, a memory of Potter saying something very similar crossed her mind. The whole thing is pointless if you’re not a pureblood.
A hot flash of indignation sparked inside her, but she merely clenched her jaw and absently nodded. This was nothing new, nothing to get upset about. Except that she was.
Neville nudged her, as if he could read her thoughts. “Don’t worry, Hermione. Their opinions don’t matter anyway. None of them are that remarkable. They were just born into the right families. You’re much smarter than most of them.”
Hermione couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. “Thanks Neville. You’re probably right.”
Neville smiled back, and then spent the rest of the walk to Gryffindor’s common room complaining about Snape’s unfair treatment towards the Gryffindors in his class. Hermione found herself nearly cackling at his impression of Snape. The mind numbing drawl was spot on, as well as the outrageous threats.
The portrait came up ahead of them before she knew it, and Hermione was excited to get some sleep. A voice calling out behind them made them pause, looking back to see the last person she wanted to run into.
Potter hurried to reach them, even though they weren’t moving. Neville greeted him warmly, but Hermione merely nodded. Potter smiled at them both, breathing heavily.
Neville made a joke and Potter laughed, but Hermione missed it. Suddenly, the portrait seemed forever away.
Potter easily integrated into the conversation, and Hermione soon found herself somewhat phased out. She scowled. Potter always did this.
A beat of silence roused her from her brooding, and she looked up to see both Neville and Potter staring at her.
She blushed. “What?”
Potter laughed, but Neville just nudged her. “I asked if you’re alright. You look like you’re in pain.”
Hermione looked to the side. “Yes, I’m fine. I just remembered I still have to finish an assignment for Arithmancy.”
Neville seemed to buy it easily enough, but Potter’s gazed lingered on her, as if he could see right through her lie. She narrowed her eyes at him, and he grinned. She really wished he wasn’t here.
Neville’s voice cut in. “So, if you do go to Slughorn’s party, who would you guys take as a date?”
Hermione’s brow furrowed. “Date? Are we supposed to bring someone?”
Potter snickered. “Well, yeah. You weren’t planning on going alone, were you?”
Hermione clenched her jaw tight. “Of course not,”
she snapped.
“You got someone in mind, Hermione?” Neville asked. Potter smirked, and Hermione floundered, blurting out the worst possible name.
“Cormac.”
Potter’s smirk dropped and Neville’s eyebrows shot up. Hermione wanted the floor to swallow her up.
“You’re going with Cormac?” Potter demanded and Hermione glanced to the side, shrugging.
“Maybe. I’m sure if I asked he’d say yes.”
Neville nodded but Potter's eyes narrowed. “Are you serious? You’d go with Cormac Mclaggen?”
Hermione scowled. “I said I might. Besides, who else could I go with?”
Hermione clenched her jaw shut when she realized what she’d just implied; no one else would want to take her.
But Potter didn’t even seem to notice. His face had grown pink, and he looked towards Neville, who looked vaguely amused.
“I’m sure you could find someone, Hermione,” Neville said. He glanced at Potter. “Who knows, maybe the right person is closer than you think.”
Hermione seriously doubted that. But she really didn’t want to go with Mclaggen, so maybe she should take Neville up on that.
“Doubt it,” she mumbled, then cursed herself again for revealing that in front of Potter. Fortunately, he didn’t seem to register what she had said.
“I can’t believe that you would go with Mclaggen.” Potter muttered, and Hermione found herself growing rather irritated.
“Well who would you go with?” She demanded. Potter turned towards her, eyes dark. For a split second Hermione had the ridiculous thought that he was going to ask her , but instead he just shrugged. He looked at Neville and smiled.
“I’m sure I could find someone. Romilda Vane has been dropping hints that she wants to go together. She’s not too bad looking, either.”
He and Neville laughed, but Hermione found herself feeling intensely annoyed, for no real reason.
She hummed. “Well, it looks like we’re both set then.”
“Looks like we are.” Potter murmured back, a challenge in his tone. Hermione held his eye, a chill running down her spine the longer she stared.
Neville cleared his throat, making Hermione break eye contact. “Should we go in?”
Hermione realized that they had wandered over to the portrait and stopped in front of the Fat Lady. The woman in the portrait eyed the trio with a combination of annoyance and amusement.
Hermione cleared her throat and nodded. Neville hesitated a moment before announcing the password. He chuckled as the portrait swung open. “Never could remember those passwords.”
Potter laughed and Hermione allowed herself to smile. Neville gestured for her to go first, rather dramatically and Hermione laughed.
A wave of heat hit her as she entered the common room, and Hermione felt unbelievably relieved that the meeting was over and she could finally relax. A few students lingered, including one who made her stomach drop. It seemed he’d gotten here before them.
She stopped in her tracks. She wondered if she could reach the stairs to her dorm without being noticed.
“Here’s your chance, Granger. Go ahead and ask him.”
Hermione jumped at Potter’s voice in her ear. Cormac Mclaggen was sitting around the fire with some of his friends. He hadn’t noticed her yet, and she prayed that it would stay that way.
She balled her fists and turned to look Potter in the eye. “Don’t tell me what to do.”
Potter smirked. Hermione clenched her jaw. She was stalling and he knew it.
“What’s the matter, Granger? Scared?”
A hot spike of rage coursed through her, accompanied by something else that made her stomach flutter.
“Please,” she huffed. “Scared? Of Mclaggen? You must be joking.”
“Go on, then. What are you waiting for?”
She paused. What am I waiting for? The simple truth was that she didn’t want to ask Mclaggen. But how could she back down now? If there was one thing worse than going with Mclaggen, it was letting Potter win.
But it seemed she wouldn’t have to decide. “Hermione!”
Hermione’s whole body tensed up. No. Please no.
Mclaggen lumbered over to where she and Potter stood. She noticed that Potter had tensed up as well.
“Hey, Mclaggen,” she muttered. He stopped in front of her and flashed her a smile. She resisted the urge to frown.
“Hi, Hermione. Um-“ he glanced at Potter “-I had a question for you.”
Hermione felt a pit form in her stomach. She really hoped this wasn’t going where she thought it would.
“Okay…”
Mclaggen faltered. Then- “Will you go to Slughorn’s party with me?”
Hermione’s stomach plummeted. She could do nothing but stand there, searching through her mind for someway that she could get out of this.
But Potter beat her to it. “Sorry, Mclaggen. Looks like I beat you to it. Hermione already said that she’d go with me.”
Hermione could’ve been struck by lightning through the window, and she wouldn’t be as shocked as was right then.
Mclaggen stammered, face turning red. Potter’s jaw was clenched tight.
“Are you serious?” Mclaggen demanded. Hermione hesitated before she nodded. She stepped closer to Potter.
“Yes, sorry Mclaggen.”
“When?”
Potter cut in smoothly. “On our way back from the meeting. Too bad you didn’t walk back with us.”
For a moment Mclaggen looked furious, before he turned away with a mutter. Hermione swore she heard mudblood but she chose not to linger on that. She turned towards Potter furiously.
He put his hands up in surrender. “Not here,” he said before she could start. He began walking towards a dark corner of the common room and Hermione had no choice but to follow.
Hermione didn’t waste a second once they’d reached a pair of armchairs hidden away in the shadows. “What the hell was that?”
Potter sighed. He lowered himself into one of the chairs and looked as if he seriously regretted ever speaking. Good. He should regret it.
“I know, I know. I’m an idiot. But it was the only thing I could think of to get you out of it. Probably shouldn’t have gone with that, though.”
“You think?” Hermione said harshly, then looked around to see if anyone was watching.
“Don’t bother,” Potter muttered. “I cast a muffliato over us.”
Hermione paused. “A what?”
Potter looked to the side, as if he’d been caught in something. “Just this spell I learned in a book.”
“What book?”
“I can’t remember, it was a long time ago. Either way, that’s not the point. You should be thanking me. We all know that you didn’t want to go with him.”
Hermione’s jaw dropped. “That doesn’t mean I wanted to go with you!”
Potter narrowed his eyes. “So you’d prefer to go with him? I didn’t have to help you, you know. You’re being ungrateful.”
“Ungrateful? What are you, my dad?”
Potter snickered, but Hermione couldn’t see what was funny. “This is going to get out! Everyone is going to know what you said! Then what?”
“Then we go together! What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is that we don’t like each other!”
“That’s bullshit! This whole rivalry you’ve imagined we have isn’t even real . I never gave you any reason to hate me!”
Hermione thought she might throttle him. “You have to be kidding! Are you forgetting about the past six years you’ve spent tormenting me? Ever since we were eleven you’ve been a thorn in my side! So don’t pretend you’re so innocent!”
“That was because you hated me first! I tried to be your friend, but you were too good for that! I never pretended that I was innocent, but I’ve never been as bad as you pretend I am!”
Hermione was breathing hard. Potter had stood up from his chair and was now towering over her. Hermione looked around, but sure enough, no one had heard a thing. Maybe that spell would be worthwhile to learn. She thought of all the things she wanted to yell at him, then deflated. The damage was already done, nothing she said would change it.
Her balled fists loosened, and an odd sense of calm washed over her. She met his eye. “I’m going to bed. We’ll deal with whatever this is tomorrow.”
Potter spluttered. “You’re leaving now?”
Hermione just shrugged. “I’m tired, and I don’t want to be around you anymore. Goodnight, Potter.”
She turned around and crossed the room, feeling his eyes following her. She felt like she was numb, while also teetering on the edge of losing control.
***
Harry Potter wasn’t stupid. In fact, he was actually pretty smart, all things considered. But as he stood alone in a dark corner of the common room, watching Granger storm away, he felt pretty stupid.
He watched Granger bound up the stairs to her dorms, watched Mclaggen’s eyes follow her every move. Harry sank down into one of the armchairs again, dropping his head back and closing his eyes.
He didn’t have to butt in. In fact, he probably shouldn’t have. Just let her deal with Mclaggen herself, because she doesn’t need him to try and save her.
But standing there, watching that slimy git in her personal space, watching Granger scramble to find a way to say no, he let his feelings get the best of him. He scoffs now, ashamed to say that for a moment he was jealous of Cormac Mclaggen .
This whole situation was ridiculous. Granger was right. It was bound to get out, and when it does, when all the attention is on them, she’ll probably hate him even more. If he knows anything about Hermione Granger, it’s that she hates being the center of attention, the latest gossip.
He takes a deep breath in, anxiety pooling in his stomach. What was his problem? How did he always manage to screw things up with her? It’s not like he ever gave her much reason to like him, anyway. Hell, not even thirty minutes ago he was egging her on, agitating her once again. And he expected her to just be okay with being his date? He’s lucky she even tolerates him, even bothers to talk to him.
He sat in that red armchair until the fire smothered out, until all of his housemates had gone to bed, until the common room was entirely empty.
He sat there until he made up his mind. He would make it up to her. He would be better. He would be the best date she’d ever had- if she ends up going with him at all- and he’d make her see. See that he didn’t want to be her rival anymore. That ever since fifth year, the thought of her sent his heart racing in a different way than it had before. That the sight of her made his mind go blank. Tell her that her attention on him -good and bad- brought him more excitement than anything else in his life.
And later, as he drifted off to sleep in his bed, his last thought being her , he dreamt of all the things she would say in return.