"falling & soaring part 20" by gingerbred

[christmasspirit]

chapter 20, tormenting

Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Neville Longbottom, Ginny Weasley, Hestia Carrow, Harper Hutchinson, Daphne Greengrass, Luna Lovegood, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Theo Nott, Demelza Robbins, Jack Sloper, Zacharias Smith, Morag MacDougal, Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Susan Bones, Hannah Abbott

18 September, 1998. Neville meets Ginny at his for dinner, and what promises to be a lovely evening, Hermione's dinner is a lot less appealing, to say nothing of unflattering, Draco finds himself unexpectedly pressed into action, with the rest of the Slytherins not far behind, the others at their table grapple with some unexpected news, Hestia's inner wolf has a chance to shine, Harry receives some unwanted attention he suspects he can blame Ron for, and Ron comes up with some new plans he finds rather more enjoyable than the original ones.

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Originally Published: 2024-06-25 on LJ / DW
Words: 10.3 k
Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

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Characters: Staff: Neville Longbottom (Head of Gryffindor, Herbology Apprentice), Slytherins: Draco Malfoy (8S, Prefect, Captain, Seeker), Daphne Greengrass (8S, sparkly), Theo Nott (8S, Hestia's), Hestia Carrow (7S, Chaser, Lycanthrope attack survivor, Theo's somewhat rabid other half), Harper Hutchinson (7S, Prefect, Chaser), Gryffindors: Hermione Granger (8G, Head Girl, DA), Harry Potter (8G, Captain, Seeker, DA), Ron Weasley (8G, Prefect, Keeper, DA), Ginny Weasley (7G, Chaser, DA), Jack Sloper (7G, ex-Keeper, ex-teammate), Demelza Robbins (6G, Chaser, Ron's bit on the side), Ravenclaws: Morag MacDougal (8R), Luna Lovegood (7R, DA), Hufflepuffs: Ernie Macmillan (8H, Head Boy, DA), Justin Finch-Fletchley (8H, DA), Susan Bones (8H, DA), Hannah Abbott (7H, DA), Zacharias Smith (7H, Chaser)

Mentioned briefly: Staff: Minerva McGonagall (Headmistress), Severus Snape (Deputy Headmaster, Head of Slytherin, Potions Professor), Rubeus Hagrid (Care of Magical Creatures Instructor), Poppy Pomfrey (Mediwitch extraordinaire), Slytherins: Pansy Parkinson (8S, Prefect), Blaise Zabini (8S, Keeper, voracious), Ella Wilkins (7S, Prefect with an interest in Healing Charms), Valerie "Val" Vaisey (7S, Chaser, Lycanthrope attack survivor), Roísín Rosier (7S, handy with beauty Charms), Tomasina Touchstone (6S, Prefect, Potions savvy heiress), Gryffindors: Seamus Finnigan (8G, fiery Reserve Beater, DA), Lavender Brown (8G, DA, Lycanthrope attack survivor), Ravenclaws: Terry Boot (8R, DA), Hufflepuffs: Hufflepuff girl (7H, who Seamus is pursuing and Jack likes), Others: Ninny (Neville's House Elf)

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Previously:

The previouslies are very robust. If you've recently read the Christmas Spirit stories, skip them, if not, no worries, I've got you covered. You can find links to the individual stories / chapters in the "christmas spirit index" (LJ / DW / AO3).

Summer, 1998. Hermione and Harry are instrumental in helping Professor Snape and Draco with the trials in front of the Wizengamot. F&S 01

Summer, 1998. As part of their measures to try to keep the school safe - well, safer - the Wizengamot elects to place Traces on most of the older Slytherin boys' wands and a few of the girls' as well, given their degree of involvement in the second Wizarding War is difficult to assess, and the Ministry is determined to put an end to the problems once and for all. F&S 03

September, 1998. The new seating in the Great Hall annoys pretty much everyone, the Headmistress not least amongst them. The fact no one but said Headmistress seems to know the rules from one day to the next doesn't help, particularly the many students eager not to run afoul of them. Typically, there are plenty of students without such compunctions, students who believe they're above the rules, and Professor McGonagall finds herself locked in battle with them. The most recent volley, technically unwarranted, was hers, and had led to a generous assignment of detentions for fifteen of the seventh and eighth year Ravenclaws and Gryffindors. (Ongoing), F&S 16

17 September, 1998. Hermione and Harry decide to follow the Slytherins on patrol - to be on hand to provide backup, if necessary - which sounded fine right up until they're spotted by those Prefects. F&S 11 As they're understandably on edge, and the Moggies failed, completely, to make their intentions even remotely clear in advance, a scuffle ensues during which Harry gives Malfoy a bloody nose that Hermione immediately Tergeos. F&S 12 Panicked seventh year Ella Wilkins, arriving a little late to the fight, performs a Bandaging Charm on Granger. It was perfectly acceptable, under other circumstances anyway, and then there was always the question of the sheer amount... She compensates for the attack, somewhat, by applying first aid to Potter, the Slytherin Bruise Paste causing him to whimper less than heroically. F&S 13 Good deeds and intentions aside, Ella is having a great deal of difficulty wrapping her head around the fact she'd incautiously effectively assaulted the Head Girl, and is well on her way to a meltdown, a source of some concern for her friends. F&S 13 - F&S 14, F&S 16, F&S 18a, F&S 18b

17 September, 1998. Having decided the Slytherin Prefects are very likely still at risk, a Disillusioned Severus follows them - and the two Gryffindors - on patrol. When Miss Wilkins' Ferulas of Miss Granger prove a little... excessive - full marks for thoroughness, though - and cause the Head Girl to take a spill, he feels forced to cast a rather delicate Protego to at least protect her face as she impacts quite solidly against a Shield Charm of Draco's. F&S 13

September, 1998. We learn Hermione was involved in developing the new seating scheme. 18 September, 1998. As luck and her friends would have it, word of that involvement has begun to spread. Predictably, that's going over well. It's already led to a skirmish with her Housemates firing spit wads in the library. Drawing some inspiration from a small Protego that had helped her quite a bit the night before, she tries creating a similar one of her own and is able to shield her wild mane from the worst of it. She then flees to the the Great Hall as soon as possible. CS, H(E)FDoS, F&S 15, F&S 18b

18 September, 1998. After Harry is incredibly insistent that Ron join him for some late night flying, Ron feels forced to scrap his plans for the evening with Demelza, telling her Harry simply isn't coping well and requires some attention and a little quality one on one time by means of an excuse. F&S 18b

18 September, 1998. Ginny desperately needs a break from Hermione and Harry and so she makes plans with Neville in order to avoid those two at supper. F&S 18a She hurries directly from the Gryffindor Quidditch practice to meet Neville in the greenhouses. As his planting isn't conducive to picnicking, he invites her to join him in his flat instead, suggesting she make herself at home while he fetches their dinner from the kitchens. There he promptly runs into Lavender who is doing the same for herself and Ron. F&S 19

18 September, 1998. One of the unfortunate individuals to get detention for no reason at breakfast that morning, F&S 16 Jack Sloper thinks there may be an opportunity to escape the punishment in that he was sitting in Ron's chair at the time. He's presently looking for Ron to try to palm the detention off on him, despite now knowing that the seat is technically his at this point. Details. F&S 19

13 September, 1998. Briefly forgetting himself and, more crucially, his location, Harry casts his Patronus during breakfast to try to let Ron know there's a meeting of the eighth years after the meal that he would otherwise miss, and is promptly rebuked for his troubles. F&S 06 18 September, 1998. Having learnt his lesson, at least sort of, when Harry needs to cancel his plans with Ron, he remembers to leave the dinning Hall before casting his Patronus again. F&S 19

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Friday, 18 September, 1998

Neville's Chambers

When Neville returns to his quarters, Ginny greets him at the door, rather unexpectedly having undergone a wardrobe change. Gone is her Quidditch jumper - although he notes her broom now sits in the stand by the door, almost naturally nestled against the one he'd inherited from his father but never uses - and in its place is her uniform blouse, creating a sort of hybrid, sporty casual outfit with her Quidditch trousers that really suits her both in terms of fit and overall aesthetic. That was Ginny in a nutshell, basically. As an added bonus, by taking something from both uniforms, she was somehow now wearing something that wasn't one, and Neville doesn't feel quite the odd man out as he's done much of the term.

She's not really the sort to magic another outfit into existence, none of the Weasleys are, so she'll have actually gotten changed then, a thought that likely explains the bag stowed by the brooms that he hadn't even seen her carrying - Reducioed evidently - and has him taking in her appearance more attentively. On closer inspection, he's surprised to notice her hair no longer has that slightly... different look it gets from her Cleansing Charms, and it's odd enough that he's almost about to ask, when they enter his sitting room where more surprises await.

Frankly he hadn't done much with the place.

He hadn't expected the position as Head of House when he'd packed for the term, the quarters he should have had as a mere Herbology apprentice were much smaller, more of a studio flat, but as it doesn't do to receive students in one's bedroom, should the need arise, the Heads all had more generously appointed living arrangements. Neville being Neville, his had remained almost exactly as the elves had left it for him. It's the first flat he's ever had, and he hadn't known quite what to do with it.

The same can't be said for Ginny.

She's done wonders with it, enough so he's almost tempted to cast another Tempus to see just how long it took him to go to the kitchens... Merlin. A fire roars in his hearth and the sconces are lit, casting the room in a warm, inviting light. The cushions from his couch have multiplied and gone from their frightfully boring beige to deep crimsons and deeper greens. It reminds him a little of how Professor McGonagall... Minerva had had it in terms of the colour scheme, which may have been the source of Ginny's inspiration, but there's not a tartan in sight, and that and the touches of brass make it feel more his own. Two of the extra pillows have been enlarged and are arranged to either side of his couch table on the floor. The table itself is set, and here again the beige stoneware from his kitchen - the pattern is still faintly recognisable - has received the same injections of colour, there are brass charger plates he certainly doesn't possess under them, to say nothing of the serviettes and a number of sleekly elegant brass candlesticks, again with green and crimson candles to complete the look.

It wasn't precisely so many changes all told, but the ones she made had a lot of impact. He stands there looking around the place, his confusion evident, and at first doesn't even register what she's saying.

"... and so I took a shower, I hope you don't mind."

And just like that, his confusion increases.

He has absolutely no idea what the impetus for the shower was, having missed that bit, nor does he care to ask her to repeat it. If he looked like a startled bird before, that's only more true now.

Ginny, beginning to worry she's gone too far, made herself too at home, quickly reassures him, "I didn't use your towels or anything." That gives rise to a good deal of blinking as he hadn't even thought about that aspect, and suddenly - rather unwelcomely - finds himself wondering if he'd mind, and almost immediately answering in the negative, which probably isn't good for a variety of reasons he's trying very hard not to list.

Merlin.

Ginny hasn't a prayer of guessing his train of thought, and immediately launches into an explanation of how the house elves had provided her with towels, and once the towels had appeared, she'd had an idea, called for the elf responsible, who then sourced the candlesticks and chargers and miscellaneous bits of brass, and between them, they had magicked the rest.

"The floor pillows are Engorgioed," she smiles, rather proud of her rendition of a second year Charm, but the end result was so pleasing, on balance, she feels it's warranted. The gold cording had turned out especially good. "You can just Reducio them when we're done or pile them off to the side as is, as you like. There'd be plenty of room for them in the corner there for example. I did get help with the colours, though, but I'm assured a simple Finite will return everything to magnolia, if you want."

"Magnolia!" he cries, tickled. It doesn't do much to make him appear any sharper witted, but he's been calling the colour beige in his mind for weeks now, and really, for a Herbologist, that seems like such an obvious oversight. "Magnolia," he beams, pleased as punch with the word, but it has Ginny worrying about all the colour. Each successive change had seemed so intuitive after the last, and she and the elf had bounced ideas off one another, and in no time at all...

What was she thinking??

"I'm sorry, I thought you might like it, I can Finite it all..." her words tumble out in a rush, her wand is already in hand to undo all the damage, and a mortified Neville pounces, grabbing her arm.

"No!!!" It's Ginny's turn to blink, if only briefly, but he had perhaps said that more loudly than strictly necessary, and possibly his grip is far too tight. He releases his hold immediately, but is quick to assure her, "Are you kidding? I love it."

Now feeling like she might be stealing the elf's well deserved praise, she hastens to remind him, "I did get help with the colours for everything, and Ninny Geminioed the pillows. He's frightfully good with all that."

"Ninny?"

"Your house elf?" she supplies. Neville seems doomed to blink a lot tonight. "You knew you had a house elf, right?"

In as much as the beds were always made in the dorms, the clothes and towels always laundered and returned to the wardrobes and trunks, he can't say he'd really noticed a difference. So... No, not really?

"My house elf?" The look she gives is a little pitying, and undoubtedly warranted. "Huh." He gives it some thought, finally arriving at, "And his name is Ninny?"

She nods sagely. "I'll try not to read anything into it."

"Poor creature," he nods, too, agreeing and completely missing her point. "They may as well have just gone for 'Numpty'. Oh, or 'Dunderhead', although that's probably Professor Snape's then..."

"Right..." She smiles kindly, and he tries not to wonder too much what he's missed now. As much as he enjoys spending time with the witch, it honestly doesn't always do good things for his thought processes.

Making some kind of decision, she nods decisively to herself and says, "Nev, don't take it personally, and your Cleansing Charms are really first rate," she takes his free hand to examine his nails in open approval, only in part in an effort to soften the blow, "but whatever you're using for fertiliser..."

"Oh!" he cries, knowing exactly what she must mean. "Pomona has a new Thestral dung mix, so effective, but..."

"It's definitely effective," she laughs. Then she gives him a soft grin, and almost a little shyly, certainly by her standards, suggests, "How about you take a nice hot shower of your own while I plate everything up? Does that sound fair?" She pries the hamper from his other hand where he's surprised to find he's still holding it.

"Ginny, it sounds absolutely lovely. Thank you," he says, truly meaning it. He stays there staring at her a moment too long - not that she seems to find it awkward, which is a good part of what he likes about their friendship, they always seem to be on the same wavelength when it counts - and then he shakes it off and as he leaves the room asks, "Do you think you could come up with some ideas for the mantle? It's terribly bare... And maybe the windows, too?"

"Yeah," she beams, lopsided grin in full effect. "For starters, as long as you like them, tell Ninny you're keeping those candlesticks. They're really nice. You can store them on the mantle when not in use..."

He laughs, "Ginny, I'm keeping it all." And with a massive grin of his own on his face, he disappears off to shower, making an effort to be just as quick as she must have been. It wouldn't do to have her show him up.

He can't recall when he was last this eager for a meal.

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Great Hall

"Bang up job on the seating, Granger. Such an improvement." Zacharias Smith now appears a little behind Potter's vacant seat, almost as though he'd only been waiting for him to leave, but of course the Hufflepuff couldn't have known he would. More likely he's taking advantage of Potter's absence to tease the Head Swot. "Whatever would we do without you?"

She now has an empty seat to either side, she's the only Moggie currently at their table, and Draco imagines she's beginning to feel how vulnerable and exposed she is...

And then out of nowhere, without any warning, her head slams down onto her plate with a resounding 'crack', the force great enough to split the porcelain and send her food flying in all directions.

It's a testimony to both Draco's and Luna's respective training that they're able to put Protegos in place to shield their sides of the table from the mash and gravy and what once might have been peas. Not purely by coincidence, that's also likely to give some protection against errant Hexes.

The Slytherins are on full alert, most of the rest at their table sit there in shock.

Theo, naturally, had had his wand in hand immediately, relying on Draco's Protego to protect them as he scans the room searching for the threat. Having shared many of the same ordeals as Draco the last several years, he could hardly do otherwise. That reflex meant survival. The more experienced Slytherins don't layer Protegos unless certain it's called for as they'd interfere with their ability to cast Spells in return, and Protegos, regardless of quality, sadly can't hold everything they've been witness to in the not too distant past. The ability to defend themselves is crucial. He sits there running through the Hexes and Curses he can cast wandlessly, ever mindful of that thrice damned Trace, and weighing the benefits to casting his Notice-Me-Nott. It's too early to tell if that's wise.

Hiding her nervousness, Hestia quietly remarks to Theo that she's relieved to know her eating habits around the full moon won't seem too out of place then, which had actually been a concern of hers in no longer sitting with Val, as if she and Theo weren't both sitting there at the dinner table, wands in hand. Perfectly normal, that. He knows her heart's racing without checking. Last year's Lycanthrope attacks had left their marks on her in so many ways.

The other two Snakes are searching the room as well. Harper's left wrist rests against Daph's right; he honestly couldn't say which of the two of them had moved. It may even have been both, which is a nice thought. She moves again now, very deliberately, so their arms are touching instead elbow to wrist. The contact reassures him, as does the fact she'd been every bit as quick to draw her wand as he had. It's always good to know you're on the same page, that your allies are assets and not liabilities.

Macmillan is already looking out for those responsible, and his sputterings of indignation begin to rouse the others, the Hufflepuffs more so than MacDougal and Boot. The Head Boy is very obviously affronted by the 'attack on our power structure!' A supercilious and officious prat, Macmillan has always been something of a tool. He's not exactly wrong, however.

Granger, although clearly somewhat stunned, has the best sense of what had occurred. Even before raising her head from the remains of her meal, she manages to cast a rather wonky Protego behind her. Lovegood takes the cue and casts a larger, more robust one of her own behind it. From the look of the thing, whatever else, shy of an Avada, they're safe.

And with that, things are sort of settled, then.

It was, at least for the moment, a one and done Hex, or something, nothing else has immediately followed and while they were all quite naturally startled by the suddenness of the assault - who wouldn't be? - equally they seem to be finding their roles and are comfortable with them...

And then Granger lifts her head and the uncertainty reasserts itself.

The food spread across her face doesn't help, obviously, and although not particularly problematic, makes everything look that much worse. There are tears in her eyes from the pain, her nose is bleeding rather heavily, and when she tries to speak, it quickly becomes clear her mouth is doing so even more profusely. It's very literally a bloody mess, and at a guess, she's lost at least her front teeth in the attack. Most try not too look too closely.

It's not a pretty sight.

Draco is the first to move. He turns to the girl, Tergeos her face and almost matter of factly, eliminating all thoughts of embarrassment, says, "I still owed you one from last night." The food vanishes from her face, and although he has to keep reapplying it, so does the blood from her nose and mouth. As long as she doesn't speak, it doesn't look too bad.

Daphne very patiently casts her Tergeos over and over at the table's edge, keeping further contents of the Moggie's plate from flowing into her lap.

"Hermione are you alright?" Luna asks.

Hermione's attempt to answer is unfortunately cut off when Harper casts the House Privacy Charm, wandlessly, on the Slytherins and the Head Girl, but his housemates recognise the subtle hand gesture.

Theo asks, "Should I cast a Notice-Me-Nott?"

Draco replies, "It won't help as they're clearly looking for her. It's still only a Notice-Me-Not in its roots..." Theo's Charm had added a misdirect onto the regular Spell. It wasn't that it was significantly more effective than the original - if at all, only marginally at best - but he had woven a Suggestibility Charm into the thing that provided anyone seeking a person or object benefitting from the Spell with a different goal. In optimal circumstances, they forgot about what they were looking for and proceeded to search for something else entirely. It had the same fundamental vulnerabilities as the original bit of magic, performing better, however, if the person succumbed to the Suggestibility Charm first, and that was a significant advantage.

Hestia objects, defending what could presently be considered her boyfriend's crowning achievement. "It's a Notice-Me-Not-t and what do you mean 'only'?"

Theo squeezes her hand in thanks for the support - one mightn't think it, but Hestia could be quite sweet - but assures her Draco's right.

Draco explains, "You don't want to use it when they're looking. They'll see through it, or fail to, but then realise it after. There's no need to advertise what it potentially can do when it won't improve things any."

"Might do, though," Harper responds, "if you want fewer people as a whole aware of it. Sometimes that's a help in itself. Suggesting vulnerability promotes vulnerability. You don't have to leave it in place long. Just buy a little time to get things in order. Macmillan's rallying the defense and has that front covered." He glances over to the Head Boy and corrects that, "Or will do." It's a sign of how much they trust his analyses that Theo simply does as he suggests - he can Finite it in a moment if they decide against it - and a shame Harper fails to recognise it.

Daphne leans over to quietly ask Harper if he included Lovegood in the Privacy Charm, which he rectifies without a moment's hesitation now that they've concluded the Notice-Me-Nott discussion. He'd rather fewer than more people be privy to knowledge of the Spell. Granger didn't seem in any shape to be paying close attention, homonyms had their advantages, and Draco could surely elicit any requisite Oaths if swish came to flick.

Fully aware of such considerations, it's hardly coincidence that Daph hadn't asked him to include Lovegood earlier.

Theo, unbidden, follows up by including the Ravenclaw in his Notice-Me-Nott.
Anything else would have been too confusing.

"Thank you," Luna directs at Harper and Daphne, which is strange in as much as she shouldn't have noticed the Spells and shouldn't have known whom to thank even if she had. Harper's had her in classes for six years now, and knows better than to question it, although it confirms his sense it was better they'd waited to include her. The blonde had a way of piecing information together that meant it was best not to volunteer any unnecessarily, not unless one intended to share it anyhow.

"Are you alright, Hermione?" Luna repeats her question, sliding over into Ginny's empty seat, and putting a hand reassuringly on her friend's arm.

Hermione, still woolly, half nods, half shakes her head as if undecided, almost as though the answer depends on what comes next as opposed to what is now. In that respect, she's assimilated far too well.

"The Lash, wasn't it?" Theo asks, appalled. At school no less, at supper, in front of the entire faculty - not that they seem to have noticed, although his Notice-Me-Nott likely isn't helping on that front - and against the Head Girl. They're none of them safe here, a thought clearly visible on Hestia's otherwise so composed features. He'll need to see to her later; for now he squeezes her hand more tightly.

Draco nods, pretty sure that was the Curse, he's seen it often enough and he was fairly certain he'd caught a whisper of the Spell for it, 'Flagello', from behind them. With a "May I?" he scarcely waits for an answer to - it's more about not startling an armed witch than seeking permission to do the necessary - he leans over and reaches out a hand to the back of Granger's head to check on the state of it, fully expecting to discover blood, and is surprised to encounter a small Protego instead. That might explain some of her odd posture during the meal, now that he thinks of it. Sometimes she'd almost appeared to be perching more than sitting in her chair.

"Issues in 'na 'ibary," Hermione tries to explain, not very clearly given the state of her mouth. The others still able to see her, save Draco, wince at the sight of it.

Luna goes to Vanish the broken plate so Greengrass won't have to keep wiping the table's edge, such an odd choice, but Harper and Draco stop her. "Don't."

More gently, Daph asks Granger if she wants to report this.

There's a flare of anger and indignation in Hermione's eyes, is she insane? Of course she wants to report this. But Luna slowly nods, understanding now. They were preserving evidence until the choice was made.

"It's only, sometimes reporting things makes matters worse," the blonde tries to explain.

Hermione has an uncomfortable moment realising how different their experiences are, hers to the others'.

Harper nods, agreeing with Lovegood, which comes as a surprise, "Whom precisely is Professor McGonagall going to punish? Will another general punishment like this morning's detentions - applied scattershot - not simply make the situation worse?" He looks apologetic, but tells her, "That's probably some of the reason why it happened in the first place. People were... are rather upset about it."

When her shoulders droop in resignation, the decision clearly taken, Luna casts a Charm to Vanish the plate and food rests, and then another to clean Hermione's clothes.

"Well, we know the Charm for your teeth from fourth year, now don't we?" Draco asks, his smirk in place in a way that's reassuring. Somehow it suggests it wouldn't be there if this were serious, so clearly it's not, which is a relief. It takes her a moment to realise that's not how it's usually worked between them over the years and wonder when it changed.

That isn't to say she doesn't have a moment of pause when he offers to perform the Densaugeo.

He chuckles, shaking his head, "What? Afraid I'll put them back as they were first year?" He tsks, feigning indifference, and then shrugs, "You can always go to Pomfrey if you'd like."

There's also a moment to reflect that there's a difference between knowing a Charm exists and knowing how to perform it, and well at that, and that his certainty and confidence say something about how he's spent the past couple of years. That never ceases to depress. Hermione had learnt much about that from the trials, but with some regularity she discovers new things, all of them convincing her she'd been right to defend him.

As she's hesitating, to help mask the lengthening silence, he chatters on, offering to have Ella do the Spell, "She's almost sure to know it. As you're aware, she's fond of Healing Charms..." Hermione gives him a look Professor Snape would have been proud of, which is about the only thing; he would doubtless have been beyond annoyed that his efforts to save her smile from the day before had so quickly and resoundingly come to naught.

Harper kind of wishes Ella had been there to hear Draco's praise, but there again were some of the issues with this new seating arrangement. Of course at the old tables, they wouldn't be having this conversation to begin with. Instead he fetches a Potion and Salve from the kit Tomasina had prepared for him. Now that Draco had cleaned Granger's face, you could see the curse hadn't broken the skin, and he didn't have any Murtlap compresses anyway, so the Slytherin Bruise paste and Pain Reliever will do, or at least as long as someone sorts her teeth that is. He hasn't had to do that before, but he has little doubt Draco and Theo have more experience there.

He wouldn't trade with them for the world.

He slides a phial and the jar towards the Gryffindor, Draco intercepting them and placing them carefully directly in front of her.

"It will sting more," Daph tells her, "but if you're up to it, take the Pain Reliever after you apply the Bruise Paste to your face." The other eighth years and Harper nod in agreement. It's not that Harper hadn't known to mention it when he passed the Paste to her, but he didn't think Granger'd believe him if the instructions came from him. That Daph isn't giving him one of her reproving looks speaks to the fact she's of the same opinion, which is a relief. It's nice that she trusts his judgment and his intentions, or that she doesn't think he's some numpty who just doesn't know any better.

Hermione applies the Paste, sympathising now with Harry's whimper the night before. Merlin! That really does sting. "'an I 'ake Pain Re'eef 'ow?" Greengrass nods, and Hermione gratefully downs the phial in one gulp. So much better.

Lovegood had likely done her best on the girl's clothes, but the stains were challenging, and her best wasn't quite up to snuff. A little shyly as this wasn't as obviously necessary as the first aid Potions were, but then again the point was to eliminate all trace of the attack, Harper offers to clean her clothes, person and hair, but points out, "Obviously there are differences between your hair and mine, and I can't swear to what the Charms will do to yours." He's spent so many years taking care of himself and his little brother, he's practically an expert at these Charms, but obviously the same is true for Hunter's hair. The Charms weren't intended for caucasian hair. That's not to say they'd be useless, merely not ideal, but he honestly wasn't clear on how not ideal they were.

Not that the Slytherins haven't been helpful, they have, but she has years of experience working against her here, she's had a horrible day, and she isn't positive Hutchinson's disclaimer isn't just intended to give them a window of opportunity to mess her about more, and so she hesitates again. Hutchinson simply proceeds as if she hadn't just effectively insulted him despite his help and performs a much better Cleaning Charm on her clothes - blood is so stubborn, and his pleats are so crisp - and again offers to do one on her as well.

"Still no guarantees there," he repeats, and sure enough, she's still hesitating, at least until Daphne volunteers that she can probably manage her hair if it goes wrong. She's learnt a few things from Róisín over the years.

While they're deciding, Draco sorts the few remaining drops of blood on her collar, because that's definitely something he has experience with now, "Third time's the Charm," he quips. "So am I doing your teeth, fetching Ella, or are we sending you to Pomfrey? Your call."

"'adam 'ommfrey," she mumbles and he laughs sardonically, so sure she wouldn't trust him.

"Madam Pomfrey it is then," he replies and begins to rise, a little puzzled by his sense of disappointment and not really sure why this is still his problem if she won't accept his help.

"No..." "Wait..." Lovegood and Daphne attempt to stop him.

"I believe she's just correcting the lack of honorific," Daphne smiles.

"Hermione, what would you like to do?" Luna asks, agreeing.

"Go 'head, Maffoy," Hermione responds, nodding for him to do her teeth. She still holds her breath as he casts the Spell, but his pride won't allow for anything less than perfection. When he's finished and she's running her tongue over her incisors, she's left wondering if he hasn't improved on Madam Pomfrey's work. Stunning.

Harper and Daphne sort the rest between them, every last bit of food and all the stickiness is removed from her hair, it's left silky and unaccustomedly tamed. After Greengrass' Charmswork brings her hair to order - the purple ribbon is something of a giveaway - it's very likely that she looks better than she did when the meal started.

With a breath to steady herself, Hermione performs the Finite for the usual Notice-Me-Not, which quite naturally accomplishes nothing. Theo, bright as ever, catches her meaning, however, and ends his Charm.

"Any other Privacy Charms?" Hermione asks, Harper nods. "Go ahead and Finite them. I'm ready to deal with the fallout." There are wands still out all over the table that suggest she won't have to do so alone.

"And thank you, everyone. I really appreciate your help."


There's an odd feeling of confusion when Ernie notices Hermione next and there isn't a trace of the absolute gorefest he is dead certain he'd seen only minutes before. He knows what magic can do, however, and he trusts himself here. "How are you doing, Hermione?" If his voice sounds a little strained, it's because they've now had a chance to learn about Hermione's part in the new seating arrangement, and he isn't sure how he feels about it. Or why the Head Girl would be permitted to give her input to such a momentous change, but no one had seen fit to consult him, the Head Boy, and a pureblood at that. Surely his opinions, benefitting from the legacy of generations upon generations of very gifted Hogwarts students, would have been valuable and should have been sought.

Zacharias had had a few choice things to say, at least until Justin had finally told him to naff off, and he'd made it eminently clear, this wasn't another attack on Prefects, this was personal.

And why.

Obviously that doesn't mean Ernie should turn a blind eye to the attack, of course not... But he might need a little time to come to grips with his feelings about the Gryffindor first.

"Much better, thanks for asking," she replies. The polite, non-committal smiles she receives in response betray the shift in her tablemates' concern. Brilliant. Not worrisome at all. But at least their wands remain at the ready, not that anyone seems to know why anymore. There had been no other Spells cast against Hermione or anyone else at their table for that matter.


Draco and Harper, as the two remaining Slytherin Prefects at the table, had been especially keen to pick up on some of the Hufflepuffs' conversation. The Privacy Charm didn't keep them from hearing the others, just the others from hearing them. With a high degree of certainty, this attack wasn't related to Saturday's, which is a relief. Smith could be lying, of course, or mistaken. He hadn't performed the Curse, after all. He'd been in their sight when it was cast, perhaps deliberately, so he might know who was behind it and more importantly why, he'd certainly suggested as much on the latter count, but he himself wasn't actually responsible. His stance had been purposefully provocative and he'd argued with Macmillan, ultimately counting on the Head Boy's unwillingness to take points from his House with depressing accuracy. As points were generally the first step before more severe punishments, he proceeded to escape unscathed. Macmillan's an arse and only Head Boy because they hadn't dared give the position to a Slytherin, let alone one who'd nearly landed in Azkaban. Which... fine. Theo should have still been in the running, though. Merlin, even Blaise tended to have more to offer than the bumptious 'Puff.

Draco is just relieved Pansy hadn't been there to see the assault and worry. The bottom line here is it won't be as bad for her now that they know it was - very likely - motivated against Granger personally. That wasn't great for Granger, clearly, but Pansy had more than enough to be getting on with, every bit removed from her plate helps. He's sorry he'd ever wished she hadn't switched tables. It was so selfish of him.

But with the Notice-Me-Nott and Pansy both gone, he resigns himself to not speaking again.


Hannah and Susan are whispering together. Hermione doesn't need to be a Legilimens to guess the topic. Hmm. Ernie seems preoccupied, and so finally Justin takes the initiative and asks, "So what are we doing here? Did you speak to McGonagall? What's the plan?"

"Professor McGonagall," Hermione corrects automatically, endearing herself to the table further. Daph gives Draco a little smile as if to say, 'See?' She's right, the correction comes regardless who triggers it. "No. Unless we want more of this morning's repercussions, it seemed futile. Or were you able to figure out who cast the Hex?"

"Curse," Draco corrects very softly, but Granger's eyes widen slightly, proving she heard. She seems a little less certain of her course of action now.

Justin shakes his head and Ernie feels pressed to weigh in. It was rather his job. "No. The only thing I can say for sure was it wasn't Zacharias, but that leaves rather a lot of suspects." Draco thinks they can also safely say it was someone sat behind her which greatly narrowed the suspect pool... Well, unless they'd used some Perception magic, Disillusioned or Notice-Me-Not-ed, or possibly an Invisibility Cloak that is... In that light, Macmillan might be right then, blue moons, but they really can't exclude anyone they'd hadn't seen themselves, and even that wasn't a sure thing, given Polyjuice and whatnot...

Hmm.

Well it wasn't terribly likely. When it doubt, Draco prefers to stick to probabilities. But it doesn't do to forget the odds, either.

Susan finally speaks up, looking at Hermione in open disbelief, "You're honestly not reporting it?"

She looks about to launch into some variant of victim blaming, Hestia recognises it immediately, and with a cool smile, her inner wolf very much on display, she quietly asks the Hufflepuffs, "Whatever for? So you can blame more blanket detentions on her?"

Susan is reduced to sputtering, ultimately going with, "You can't honestly be listening to them for advice," waving at the five Slytherins at their table.

"I thought she had point," Luna replies quietly, but with conviction, leaving open whether she meant Hermione or Carrow. It's effective. That line of discussion comes to an abrupt end.

They sit in awkward silence for a moment, and then Morag Macdougal chimes in. She's the only Ravenclaw at the table not to have joined the DA. In fact, as all the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors had, she's the only non-Slytherin who hadn't. Perhaps that makes the difference, that she's the person who has spent the least amount of time with Granger outside of classes, or maybe it's down to her naturally confrontational personality - there are plenty who find her abrasive - but she's the first to address what they're all thinking. "So. The tables? This new seating order?"

Everyone goes quiet waiting for Hermione's answer.

Hermione shakes her head, not really feeling like answering, or that she owes anyone anything having just been attacked, but that ignores that these were nominally her allies and not her assailants. It's always best to make an effort to keep them onside. Luna nods encouragingly, and before she registers it, Hermione finds herself explaining after all.

"This," she indicates the room and sounds genuinely angry, "wasn't what we'd discussed, and is far from what I'd consider a good idea. I was asked my opinion, and I gave it." In truth, she may have volunteered it, but ultimately it was still the Headmistress' decision what, if any, changes were to be made. Ernie bristles visibly at the suggestion Hermione had been consulted and he had not, and there were plenty of reasons why that had been the case, her volunteer work the past summer being one, as had her membership in the Order or her role in the war, all accomplishments Ernie hadn't begun to match. It was also true, however, that the fact Professor McGonagall had been her Head of House for six years had made a substantial difference. Realising Ernie needs to hear... something to make this more palatable, she offers only one of the reasons, hoping it will make sense for him. "I was asked, as a Muggle-born, what factors did I believe helped contribute to the climate that gave rise to the war."

Well he certainly can't speak to being Muggle-born. Not that the tables strike him as the logical conclusion, "So you think the seating caused the Wizarding War. Uh huh. That makes perfect sense." The sarcasm is plain, but a number of the Slytherins smirk at him for making her point. Macmillan is a fool.

"And that was probably why they asked her, and not you. In addition to your not being Muggle-born, of course," Hestia scores another goal, speaking up when the boys can't or probably shouldn't. Harper should be clear of all doubts, but that hadn't kept the Wizengamot from putting a Trace on his wand, too. Hers was free, though, and the general feeling was that left her more latitudes of freedom in her actions as a whole.

Hermione is a little surprised by the unexpected assist, failing to account for Hestia's competitive nature.

"There isn't a single Muggle-born in our House," Hestia gets to the core of the problem before anyone else can lay the charge at the Snakes' feet.

The Slytherin boys, as one, lean back in their chairs, content to watch her thread the needle. They haven't any doubts, not even when Abbott grumbles, "That's because you'd probably have sacrificed them or burnt them at the stake or something..."

Hestia gives her a dismissive look and answers as if she hadn't contributed, which clearly she hadn't, at least not in a constructive fashion. By the time she's finished, even Hannah's embarrassed that she'd spoken up. "Under the old system, where were the points of contact?" Hestia sounds like a Professor about to unlock the secrets of the Esoteric for particularly feeble students, as sure of her ability to do so as she is of their deficiencies. "Lack of familiarity gives rise to lack of trust. No attachments form. And there's always a diminished likelihood that people of one House will defend those of another."

"Far more so, naturally," Susan mutters, "when the occupants of the House tend towards the sociopathic." Hestia gives her one of those looks that shuts that down, eyebrow arching in best Snape-ian fashion as if to emphasise: 'who, precisely, from which House, exactly, is presently defending a member of another House?' She has a point. Susan goes silent now as well.

"Where do students mingle? Classes? We aren't allowed to speak to one another there. The study period is the same. Sports? From Gobstones to Quidditch," that earns her a little side-eye from Hermione who knows the girl's reputation on the Pitch. It's cute that she pretends Gobstones even matters, "the practices are segregated by House, the numbers of participants are strictly limited, the matches themselves few and far between. Across the board, very rarely do very few from different Houses actually come in contact with one another, and those are moments when they are literally pitted against one another.

"Where do students congregate? The library?" Hermione can certainly speak to that. "We're not permitted to speak there either. At meals we sat with our Houses. In the evenings, it's the same, tucked away, isolated in our common rooms or our dorms. The only one of those things they could easily change is the way we take our meals.

"Or would you have them eliminate Houses altogether?" Hestia grins wolfishly, turning dramatically to the Hufflepuff girls.

Hannah gulps audibly.

"But that's... I never said that..." Susan complains. Everyone ignores her this time.

Carrow has done an incredible job of recreating Hermione's arguments, and she stares at her in disbelief for a few beats and then nods, "Except this wasn't remotely what I pictured or would have recommended."

It was roughly two hours a day they were stuck with people they don't like and haven't chosen, incapable of carrying a conversation... 'Well they'll learn,' the Headmistress had said. But the shape of the table meant it was very nearly impossible to carry on a conversation with more than a couple of people from other Houses, if at all, except for moments like this when the entire table was having a single conversation.

That happened virtually never.

'This won't be pretty,' Hermione had said, rather prophetically, when she first saw the new layout of the room.

'They're never going to like the change,' Professor McGonagall had dismissed her objections. 'The older students will be more of a problem than the younger ones. This year the seventh and eighth year students will be in the same courses, which will make the mix easier to stomach.' Hermione evidently hadn't looked convinced. 'There's no sense putting it off,' the Headmistress assured her, and as one of the people lobbying for change, what could she say in reply?

And now here she was.


"I can't imagine it was," Hestia smirks.

"And yet, we're talking to one another, aren't we?" Luna points out and Daphne smiles.

And like that, the spell is broken. Almost as an act of defiance, the table dissolves into a number of small, whispered conversations as the various groups try to suss out how they feel about all of this.

"Thank you. That was very kind," Hermione whispers to Hestia, who now shrugs, uncomfortable with her praise.

Draco, sitting between them, scoffs.

"What?" Hermione demands.

Maybe it's the diminished contact with others this week, and the loneliness is getting to him, but he turns to her and answers, "Please. It's not about you, it's for our sakes. How long before they make the leap from blaming you to blaming us for the necessity of this change?" Which, now that he mentions it, was probably true. But then she's confident their fellow students are capable of multitasking and can give both her and the Slytherins plenty of grief. That capacity should never be underestimated.

Annoyed - no one knows how to get under her skin like Malfoy, her perfect incisors notwithstanding - she turns to him and unloads as though wielding a wand in each hand. And well at that. "How long do you plan to sit there ignoring everyone?" He blinks. With Parkinson no longer at their table, she takes no prisoners, "You think you're the reason Parkinson was attacked? At what point are you going to consider your little theory disproven? What is it going to take?" Draco looks momentarily stricken, and she softens immediately. "Malfoy, have you even spoken to anyone except now under the Privacy Charms? Isn't the isolation driving you bonkers?"

With the exception of telling Harper to get Ella right, soonest, an exceedingly terse exchange, and Potter's absurdly over the top invitations to go flying, a thoroughly unwanted interaction, this is basically the only time anyone has spoken with him in public today, which is beyond sad.

They stare at one another, both blinking, unsure where to go from there.

Hermione naturally folds first, "Sorry, I shouldn't have... I didn't mean... That was absolutely none of my..."

"It bloody well wasn't," Draco grumbles. And yet Theo had caught their conversation and now has some things to think about, like the difference it might make that Pansy no longer sits with them. Or that Hestia's presence meant he was otherwise occupied. Or that he hadn't really used the Notice-Me-Nott without Panse's prompting, except for now, during an actual attack, which was clearly far from social... And what all of that might mean for Draco's mental wellbeing. Hmm. By tomorrow morning, he and Hestia will have swapped seats so he's next to Draco and better able to interact with his friend, even if he insists on keeping up this ruse. Theo has a feeling Granger may have gotten to him, though, and they just might be able to put this behind them. That, too, would be a help.

Abruptly Hermione stands, "I need to go to the library."

Draco scoffs again.

She's just pushing her chair in when Luna places her hand on her arm once again, this time to slow her friend down. With her other hand, she's digging hurriedly in her bag until she finds something. With a chirp of satisfaction, she removes it from her volumous satchel and hands a small wrapped box to Hermione, who looks at it uncertainly. Luna seems to have made the wrapping paper herself, it's decorated, somewhat disconcertingly, with a mixture of stars and blinking eyes that make for odd and frankly slightly disturbing constellations.

"It helps you sense and avoid Wrackspurts," the blonde assures her in that airy way of hers. As avoiding imaginary creatures has always been one of Hermione's most pressing concerns, obviously she has no problem thanking her friend effusively... Evidently now seeing no further reason to delay her friend's departure, Luna has removed the hand restraining her and is still smiling at Hermione expectantly before the Gryffindor's manners finally kick in.

"Thank you, Luna. That's very..." hesitating, she finally lands on, "thoughtful." She's dreadful at this.

"Just what you always wanted," Draco scoffs to himself. Granger shoots him a dangerous look that leaves him utterly unfazed. He lived with the Dark L... You-Know-Who for years. She'll need to up her game if she means to leave a mark.

Like talking about loneliness, perhaps...

Merlin, he's such an idiot.


"Keep it with you," Luna suggests. "You never know when it might help you in a spot of trouble."

Hermione hasn't a clue why she's holding the thing, but she nods politely and carefully places it in her bag. To the best of her knowledge, Luna's bag hasn't been extended, and yet Hermione is generally better able to find things in hers. It won't be until late that night that it will dawn on her that it was probably meant as a birthday present. How strange Luna had given it to her early, but then 'Luna' and 'strange' rather went hand in hand. She'll decide Luna had probably hoped to cheer her up after the disastrous meal. She's sweet like that.

And with that Hermione heads to the library, which undoubtedly will prove even more pleasant than before, leaving the others free to resume their discussions of the table arrangements at louder volumes.


When he returns shortly thereafter, Harry is puzzled to see Luna in Ginny's seat, with two empty spots to her right and her own, now empty chair to her left. Thinking the eighth year Ravenclaws, now deep in whispered consultation, may have been teasing her again, he slips into Hermione's seat and conversationally asks his friend, "Where'd Hermione go?" as it seems a good place to start.

"Your timing is impeccable," Malfoy drawls.

"I won't be late later," Harry assures him, not entirely convinced that's the proper response, but it elicits a huff of amusement from the blond, so he imagines it was good enough.

"She had some trouble and withdrew to the library," Luna informs him.

That makes perfect sense. It was pretty much Hermione's answer to everything. And so he asks after the CMC lessons Luna and Ginny share, and how Hagrid's N.E.W.T.s class is going over all, relieved when the creatures Luna discusses are actually real, although some of Hagrid's pets sound terrifying.

Some things never change.

---

Corridors

"Harper, do you think we could ask Granger to just tell Ella it's alright?" Daphne asks as they make their way back to the dungeons after the meal. "You know, that she doesn't bear her any ill will from last night?" Judging by the way the Gryffindor had responded to Draco's offer to fetch their Housemate for the Densaugeo, she's pretty sure that's correct. "I think she'd be willing to, too." That last bit comes from having Granger in so many of her classes for six years coupled with the Slytherin's overly optimistic nature.

Surprisingly, Harper agrees, though. That comes of the Moggie's assisting with Draco's and Professor Snape's cases in front of the Wizengamot last summer, coupled with the scant three weeks they've now spent together in classes. He thinks Daph has the right of things as to the Head Girl's willingness to help, not that that's generally the done thing, asking Gryffindors for their assistance, but still. What he's less convinced about is that it would actually do the trick. And of course there's little point in begging a favour and incurring more debt if it wasn't likely to do so.

"I don't think it's enough for Ella to know she's forgiven. I think the main issue is her failure to perform better under pressure. Granger is essentially the physical embodiment and a constant reminder of just how badly Ella bottled it. You know that doesn't sit well with her."

No, it wouldn't. She had rather high expectations of her abilities and a nearly compulsive need to succeed.

"That's a shame. I'd hoped that might work." Daph sighs, and Harper who briefly hadn't been worrying about his friend now looks a little disappointed that something that hadn't even occurred to him five minutes ago wouldn't just fix things. It's silly really, not that he can help himself.

Catching his expression, the eighth year fleetingly rests her hand very lightly on his upper arm, gives it the gentlest of squeezes, smiles and assures him, "Don't worry, I'll keep after Hunter to make sure he does as you suggested. One way or another, we'll sort Ella, and soon. I promise."

Rationally, it's a little scary that that's really all it takes to make him believe it, not that he particularly minds at the moment. Instead he returns the dark haired girl's smile, and begins mapping out potential lines of attack for his little brother to use on Ella's insecurity. They need to shake her out of this. Failure isn't an option.

---

Gryffindor Tower

Ron doesn't return to the Gryffindor tower after dinner, and Harry worries he's managed to offend the ginger, too. Full marks for him then. First Hermione, now this. He's not really sure he should worry though, as he'd sent his Patronus to cancel precisely because he feared he wouldn't see Ron back in the dorms. The whole cause and effect thing proves rather confusing sometimes.

Stranger still, Demelza seems determined to check up on him for no reason Harry can discern. His confusion at her sudden interest makes him more distant, and, in retrospect, he fears a little rude, but he simply hadn't known how to respond. The more he tried to assure her he's fine, the less inclined she seemed to be to believe him. 'Brave front' and all that... He considers telling her he is very poorly to see if that made a difference, but fails to see how her believing that would help matters any. That was sort of the point, that she refused to believe he wasn't completely out of sorts. Or worse.

Witches can be difficult to understand.

And still he remains sitting there with her because the mood in the common room is bleak. There are rather a lot of his Housemates that will be spending a good chunk of their night with Hagrid, although thankfully many aren't currently there. Those that are, however, are perfectly willing to blame Hermione for that detention somehow, and in her absence, it would seem they're willing to misuse him as her proxy. They shove off slightly before he needs to, thank goodness, and it's as though a cloud had lifted, except now, free of witnesses inclined to hold her solicitousness against her, Demelza simply redoubles her efforts.

Godric's beard.

When it's time to leave for the Pitch to meet Malfoy, he's actually relieved. He'd feel guilty about that, Demelza had been nothing but concern itself, but he's had so much guilt over the years, he just doesn't feel like taking on any more. "Sorry, I, uh, need to go..." he tells her, beating a hasty retreat for the portrait hole.

"Say 'hi' to Ron," she smiles.

"Uh, not sure I'll see him?" Harry is equally unsure what he's supposed to say. He gets the sense Ron had invoked him somehow, and wishes he thought to keep him in the loop on such things. Harry had sort of suspected Ron had plans with Lavender tonight. He's beginning to wonder if they hadn't been with Demelza instead.

Which doesn't explain where he is now...

"Oh. Right," Demelza winks at him which is just weird. "Of course not." If she was meant to keep this from someone, surely that would have been him. Even Ron would have difficulty convincing his assorted bits on a broom to keep this from one another. Either she's yet another one of Ron's daftys, possible, or she's chaffing at being kept a secret.

Not for the first time, Harry wonders how long Ron can keep up this juggling act of his before it all goes to shite.

It'll doubtlessly be longer than Harry thinks possible, than Gin and 'Mione find fair, and not as long as the ginger needs.

---

Corridor near the Great Hall

Ron for his part had received Harry's Patronus while waiting for Lavender in their alcove near the kitchens. She'd taken longer than unusual to fetch their meal, and as he sat there waiting, suddenly Harry's stag appeared to scratch their plans. At first he'd been annoyed, rather, he'd cancelled on Demelza after all, and reversing himself now would make him seem less credible in the future. Probably.

And then he recalls Seamus' and Jack's comments about a certain seventh year Hufflepuff. He hurries through his dinner, makes his excuses to Lavender shortly before the meal is about to end, and although there's no guarantee the Hufflepuff will have remained through the meal, he decides to trust to luck and take her potential presence as a sign.

What he encounters instead is Jack Sloper, who's evidently been prowling the corridors, looking for him for some reason. Bugger. And having missed his meal, if anything, Jack's mood had only gotten worse. They proceed to argue briefly about Jack's detention tonight. Ron fails to see how that's his problem when the seat was now officially Jack's - briefly it occurs to him to wonder where on earth he's supposed to be sitting - and even if it wasn't, Jack had occupied it. This isn't Ron's problem.

What it is, is further incentive to lay things on heavy with the 'Puff when she appears shortly after Jack storms off, as Ron had registered the former-Keeper's interest. The blokes certainly weren't wrong about her thing for heroes of the war. It's not long before Ron wins her over with an offer to show her his Order of Merlin some day. When she doesn't feel the need to add a 'Second Class' to complete his sentence, he decides his evening will be a success.

Jack and Seamus, who'll be hard at work on one of Hagrid's many projects at that point, won't see it quite the same way.

---

Written with oodles of love for lostangelsoul3 and erexen. E, sweetie, may you always have a troop with wands in hand to have your back in times of trouble. ❤️