mickume/harry_potter_tiny · Datasets at Hugging Face

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Before this, Hermione had wondered if they’d taken too long to be duelling again. If all that practicing over Summer had faded away, but it was clear that no, that was not the case.
And then Bellatrix had whipped a spell, throwing it back at the same time Hermione was casting. It was a hell of a shot as Bellatrix managed to miss being hit by mere millimetres and Hermione missed dodging by less than a second.
Thrown back, she dropped to the ground, gasping as the wind was knocked from her.
Bellatrix ran forward, crouching beside her as she grinned. "Fucking incredible," Bellatrix said, still panting as she grinned wildly. "You were incredible."
"Bloody hell," she heard Cormac say before Luna’s dreamy voice, add, "Didn’t they look beautiful? Like Pallas and Athene fighting."
Hermione gave a sudden laugh at the comment before letting out a small whine. Her ribs hurt when the hex had hit her.
"Let me," Luna said, waving her wand. And before Hermione could protest that she’d rather just go to the hospital wing, Luna had fixed the crack, leaving her to breathe properly again.
"Oh," she said, sitting up. "Thank you. That was...a really good spell."
"I’ve practiced a lot of healing spells over the Summer," Luna said. "Since the war is coming."
Hermione looked away, feeling the horror of that reminder slide over her. It was only another reminder that she should be practicing more spells, making more potions in the sudden event that she, Ron and Harry needed to leave Hogwarts.
Though, with things going the way that they were, she doubted that if something did happen, Ron and Harry would still permit her to be involved.
"Here," Ginny said, holding out her hand to help her up. "Everyone’s right though. That was by the far the best duel of the night. Should have heard what Seamus and Dean were saying. I’d bet by next week, we’ll have twice the amount signed-up."
It wasn’t quite that amount, but another four signed up. Three of them were Ravenclaw’s with the fourth being another Gryffindor...it was however...something more and with it Hermione felt her confidence grow that maybe the duelling club wasn’t such a bad idea.
The Quidditch match against Slytherin was rapidly approaching, and Hermione saw less of both Bellatrix and Ginny as Harry drilled them in preparation for the upcoming match. One particular afternoon, Bellatrix appeared in the common room, covered in mud and in a foul mood.
"What happened?"
"I don’t care that he’s your friend," Bellatrix snarled, and Hermione sunk in her chair, wondering what Harry did during practice to stoke Bellatrix’s ire, "But that boy could not save a goal if his life were at stake."
Hermione blinked before realising that she was talking about Ron, not Harry. "Oh, well...he did well at practice. I’m sure it’s just nerves," she offered.
"Hardly," Bellatrix snapped before going into detail about how, during the most recent practice, he’d managed to hit Demelza in the face and lost all ten quaffles, flying the wrong way. "You didn’t charm the ball so he’d get it through, did you?"
"No," Hermione said honestly. "He can be a decent player. He just gets really nervous, and I’m sure with you there and..." she trailed off as Ginny stalked into the common room in a similar foul mood. "Oh, no," Hermione said.
"My prat of a brother," Ginny began before starting her own venting about how Ron had caught her and Dean kissing and freaked out, nearly going as far as to imply Ginny was being a hussy. Hermione felt her own anger grow at that.
"He didn’t say it," Ginny admitted, "But he was going to. You should have seen him; even Harry looked pretty mad at Dean, as if he has any right, either."
Hermione was surprised at that.
"It’s because Potter likes you," Bellatrix said. "Both of them are idiots."
Ginny had gone pink at the statement, looking aside. Whether or not Bellatrix took notice of it, Hermione couldn’t tell as the witch sighed, shifting in her chair. "If we can keep the quaffle on the other side of the court, we can win. Dean’s a decent chaser, and––"
"Dean’s a chaser?" Hermione questioned.
"Because of Katie," Ginny said. "Last I heard, she’s not expected to return until after Christmas."
Hermione felt as though Ginny had thrown a bucket of cold water on her with that statement. "Of course," she said in a soft whisper. "So he plays alright?"
Ginny gave a shrug. "Well enough, he’s not Katie, but he’s not bad, either. With practice, I think he could get as good as Demelza and me."
Hermione doubted that Dean could become as good as Ginny, but she smiled in support nonetheless. Bellatrix, however, had no trouble stating that Dean wouldn’t get anywhere near Ginny’s ability before admitting that, yes, he was a decent player. Better than her other beater, at least.
"But he’s doing well, too," Ginny said. "He got that hit at the beginning of practice."
Hermione tuned them out as she looked at the time. She was meant to meet with Dumbledore that evening and would need to leave soon.
It didn’t take her long to make it to Professor Dumbledore’s office. As she said the password and entered the stairs, a sudden wave of nausea overcame her as she wondered why Dumbledore had summoned her.
Was he worried about Bellatrix? Was something else afoot? Were there Death Eaters, or...was she somehow failing her classes. Had she forgotten to attend one? No, that would be ridiculous. She had carefully and meticulously made up a timetable following the one Professor McGonagall had provided her.
"Miss Granger, come in," Dumbledore greeted, opening his door wider to permit her entry. Hermione stepped in, thanking Dumbledore as she took a seat before him. "Would you like a lemon drop?" he asked, nodding to the bowl of hard-boiled lollies on his desk.
"No, thank you," Hermione said, feeling nausea tighten in her stomach.
Dumbledore took a piece, unwrapping it as he said. "Worry not. I am here only to see how our mutual friend has been fitting in."
Hermione paused, shifting in her seat. "She’s...good. She joined the Quidditch team and is making friends with Ginny and some of the others..." she trailed off there. Bellatrix wasn’t making friends with anyone else, other people kept trying to be friends with her, and then Bellatrix would cooly deflect from them. "I mean, she’s doing well in classes."
"Yes, her marks are similar to how they were when she was in school. Though I suspect she’s feeling a little unchallenged."
Hermione’s shoulders deflated. "Yes, sir," she admitted. "But I think Quidditch and the Duelling Club help."
Dumbledore’s eyebrow arched at her comment. "She’s started a duelling club?"
"Well...her, Ginny Weasley and I did, sir. With permission from Professor Flitwick. She’s an accomplished duellist."
"You know who she was trained by, I take it?"
Hermione felt anxiety rise in her "Yes, sir. But if you’re worried, she’s not showing a lack of showmanship. She’s fair. She doesn’t hurt anyone intentionally. A bit...show-boaty at times, but I think she sincerely enjoys it."
Dumbledore nodded, drinking in her words. "Has she...admitted to any memories coming to the surface?"
Hermione shook her head. "Not that she’s confided in me."
"And do you feel she would if she had?"
Hermione paused at the question, taking the time to think it over. Bellatrix hadn’t confessed to much of anything that she was aware of...and yet...she would admit her faults and apologise when she agreed that she’d done the wrong thing. "I do," Hermione said. "Is there a chance the memories will return?"
Dumbledore frowned, leaning back in his chair as he pondered the question. "I’m not sure," he admitted. "It’s an usual thing that occurred. The Bell Jar was not something the ministry trialled on any person, so we are in uncharted territories," he said. "I can tell you the reason for its invention was something of a party trick. The person, in their hubris, had invented it to show off the very thing you may have seen...a bird hatching from an egg and dying before reverting back."
Hermione nodded.
"It was only when some darker uses of this were done did the Ministry think to take it away, but I don’t believe the creator did anything for ill intent." Dumbledore sighed, and Hermione watched as he hid his hand beneath his sleeve. "I’m afraid I couldn’t tell you, Miss Granger, what could become of your friend. She could very much remain as she is...or....she could regress into who she was."
"Or become someone else," Hermione offered.
Dumbledore nodded, agreeing. "Or someone else," he agreed. "Is there much of what you know to be her old self in her?"
Hermione bit her tongue. She didn’t want to disclose anything that would jeopardise Bellatrix’s chance of happiness.
"I assure you," Dumbledore said as if reading her thoughts. "That I would not punish someone for thinking about doing anything. We all have desires to do something selfish or otherwise."
Hermione took a breath. "She can be a bit...cruel sometimes. No, not cruel...she’s...callous at times. I think she takes pleasure in feeling powerful and making someone uncomfortable, but she has also apologised when she has hurt me, so I don’t think she’s cruel for cruelty’s sake."
"I see," Dumbledore said. "And what of any other parts of her personality?"
"She’s not mad if that’s what you mean. She’s very methodical, I think. Strategic and clever. Sometimes she says things that represent a specific ideology, but they’re not...set in stone. She even admits to liking some things that are muggle. I think she’s bored like you said, and things like duelling and quidditch give her a chance to be challenged. I don’t think she cares about getting the best mark so as long as she knows she has the best spell-work. Sometimes I think she’s even holding back on what she can do."
"She is," Dumbledore said. "But make no mistake, I do believe I was right in placing her with you. You challenge her. You challenge her views, her ideology, her spell work, and, it seems, her duelling capabilities; otherwise, I would suspect that she would have grown bored what that. I’m very proud of you, Miss Granger. Few would take on such a task."
Hermione flushed, feeling the words hum through her. "She’s not evil, sir. She’s just a person."
"Precisely, Miss Granger. I wish more people could see that about one another."
Over the week, the Quidditch team had a run of tension over it. Bellatrix would often come back, snarling about Ron’s keeper skills, though she and Ginny briefly argued over it. "Why are you defending him?" Bellatrix had snapped as they set up for the duelling club.
"Because he’s my bleeding brother, and if anyone’s going to insult him, it better well is me," Ginny snapped. "Don’t you have any family?"
Bellatrix had flinched at the comment before turning her head. Hermione knew that Bellatrix had two sisters, but she was unsure if Bellatrix recalled either of them. For the life of her, Hermione couldn’t recall if she’d ever discussed Bellatrix’s family with her outside of the brief moment during Summer.
Despite their argument, Ginny and Bellatrix managed to move on quickly, with Ginny quickly apologising, admitting she’d forgotten that Bellatrix’s family had passed, and agreeing that Ron was a right prat, so yeah, it was fair Bellatrix was allowed to snap about that.
"I’ll refrain from talking about his Quidditch skills around you," Bellatrix agreed as a way to bridge the peace. "Unless he does something truly atrocious."
Ginny nodded, agreeing that was fair, and they were able to continue on with the club, practising their duelling skills with the new members (who now included a few third and fourth years willing to put the work in).
However, one evening, Ron returned without saying a word to anyone from practice, looking as though he was on the brink of crying. When Hermione had looked to Bellatrix and Ginny, neither of them had a response to why only citing that he’d been a prick during practice and had made Demelza cry.
Which, yes, was awful but not something that would usually make Ron so depressed.
Hermione took to asking Harry. "He wants to quit the team," Harry said. "I dunno what to do. His nerves are all over the place."
"Is it because of Bella?" Hermione asked tentatively.
For the first time, Harry’s mood didn’t sour at the mention of her name. "No, she’s been fine. Keeps to the other side and lets Peakes handle Ron’s side of the pitch—she’s even helped Peakes learn a few things."
Hermione blinked. It was the most positive thing Harry had said about Bellatrix, ever. "You almost sound impressed by her."
"I won’t go that far, but...I spoke with Dumbledore about it the other day. And he raised a few good points. I don’t trust her, but...I don’t think she’s, you know, Bellatrix Lestrange anymore. She’s just some cocky transfer who’s a decent player."
Hermione rushed forward, hugging Harry. "Oh, Harry! I’m so glad you think so."
"Oh! Well," Harry said before giving a nervous hug as he pulled back. "Don’t get me wrong, Ron still doesn’t like her, but I’ll try and convince him."
Hermione smiled, and for what it was worth, Harry did try. The next morning, he came and sat near her and Ginny under the guise that the team should sit together before the big day. It was nice, and Hermione felt her mood skyrocket despite how dejected Ron looked, glaring at his food and casting side-eyes at Bellatrix.
It was a start, at least.
It was as Hermione was feigning interest in Jimmy Peakes and Bellatrix as they explained their strategy that she noticed, out of the corner of her eye, Harry handing Ron a glass of pumpkin juice whilst holding a familiar gold vial.
"Don’t drink that, Ron!" Hermione gasped.
Harry and Ron both looked up at her, though the rest of the Quidditch team remained deep in discussion.
"Why not?" Ron asked.
Hermione felt anger roll through her. She couldn’t believe that Harry would cheat. Sure, she understood that Ron’s nerves were bad, but using liquid luck so that he could win some stupid sports game was beyond horrendous.
"I saw you put something in that drink," she said.
Harry had the nerve to balk at her suggestion. "Excuse me?" He said, pretending not to know what she was talking about.
Hermione’s mood soured. "You heard me. I saw you. You just tipped something into Ron’s drink. You’ve got the bottle in your hand right now!" She pointed to his right hand, which Harry quickly stuffed away into his robes.
"Don’t know what you’re talking about," Harry assured.
"Ron!" She said, staring at her friend. "I’m warning you. Do not drink that!"
Ron quickly snatched the cup, draining it all in one go before he smacked his lips and wiped his face with the back of the robes. "Stop bossing me around, Hermione," he glared.
Hermione felt the terror twist in her. If anyone knew, if anyone found out, then not only would Harry be pulled as Captain, but the whole quidditch team could get benched. Bellatrix would be furious!
Hermione felt her chest tighten, looking at Ron and Harry as she felt the terror pull at her. "I can’t believe you," she said before storming off. She heard Ginny call at her, but the fury burned so hard in her chest as she stormed off.
Half of her didn’t want to watch the game and see what happened. The other half wanted to be there in case there was anything she could do to stop it.
As she stood before the door heading out to the Quidditch pitch, she tugged at the robes tighter around her, ignoring the growing chill.
"Hey, Hermione," someone called.
Hermione sighed, turning on her heel to look at where Cormac was. Offering a tight smile, she waved at him a bit. Lately, Cormac had been trying to spend more time with her, talking to her during duelling club and at the Slug Club events, but whenever he rose to meet her one on one, she advised that she had prefect duties or homework to do.
Which wasn’t a lie. She did often go to do those things.
"So...I was wondering if you wanted to go to the Quidditch match together?" He asked, smiling at her.
Hermione felt her stomach twist. She didn’t. While she had no poor feelings towards him as of late, since their first Duelling Club, he’d been nothing but respectful towards her, she still didn’t find him someone particularly interesting.
The truth was, she should be upfront and tell him that she wasn’t interested, and yet she couldn’t find herself saying such a thing.
Since that dream she had, since going to the prefect bathroom, Hermione had very occasionally spent time getting to know herself and was finding herself drifting more and more into dangerous fantasying territory with a certain dark-haired witch. She’d tried to think about other people, made-up or otherwise, but the image in her mind always returned back to Bellatrix.
"Sure," Hermione said. "Have you watched any of their practices?"

Before this, Hermione had wondered if they’d taken too long to be duelling again. If all that practicing over Summer had faded away, but it was clear that no, that was not the case.

And then Bellatrix had whipped a spell, throwing it back at the same time Hermione was casting. It was a hell of a shot as Bellatrix managed to miss being hit by mere millimetres and Hermione missed dodging by less than a second.

Thrown back, she dropped to the ground, gasping as the wind was knocked from her.

Bellatrix ran forward, crouching beside her as she grinned. "Fucking incredible," Bellatrix said, still panting as she grinned wildly. "You were incredible."

"Bloody hell," she heard Cormac say before Luna’s dreamy voice, add, "Didn’t they look beautiful? Like Pallas and Athene fighting."

Hermione gave a sudden laugh at the comment before letting out a small whine. Her ribs hurt when the hex had hit her.

"Let me," Luna said, waving her wand. And before Hermione could protest that she’d rather just go to the hospital wing, Luna had fixed the crack, leaving her to breathe properly again.

"Oh," she said, sitting up. "Thank you. That was...a really good spell."

"I’ve practiced a lot of healing spells over the Summer," Luna said. "Since the war is coming."

Hermione looked away, feeling the horror of that reminder slide over her. It was only another reminder that she should be practicing more spells, making more potions in the sudden event that she, Ron and Harry needed to leave Hogwarts.

Though, with things going the way that they were, she doubted that if something did happen, Ron and Harry would still permit her to be involved.

"Here," Ginny said, holding out her hand to help her up. "Everyone’s right though. That was by the far the best duel of the night. Should have heard what Seamus and Dean were saying. I’d bet by next week, we’ll have twice the amount signed-up."

It wasn’t quite that amount, but another four signed up. Three of them were Ravenclaw’s with the fourth being another Gryffindor...it was however...something more and with it Hermione felt her confidence grow that maybe the duelling club wasn’t such a bad idea.

The Quidditch match against Slytherin was rapidly approaching, and Hermione saw less of both Bellatrix and Ginny as Harry drilled them in preparation for the upcoming match. One particular afternoon, Bellatrix appeared in the common room, covered in mud and in a foul mood.

"What happened?"

"I don’t care that he’s your friend," Bellatrix snarled, and Hermione sunk in her chair, wondering what Harry did during practice to stoke Bellatrix’s ire, "But that boy could not save a goal if his life were at stake."

Hermione blinked before realising that she was talking about Ron, not Harry. "Oh, well...he did well at practice. I’m sure it’s just nerves," she offered.

"Hardly," Bellatrix snapped before going into detail about how, during the most recent practice, he’d managed to hit Demelza in the face and lost all ten quaffles, flying the wrong way. "You didn’t charm the ball so he’d get it through, did you?"

"No," Hermione said honestly. "He can be a decent player. He just gets really nervous, and I’m sure with you there and..." she trailed off as Ginny stalked into the common room in a similar foul mood. "Oh, no," Hermione said.

"My prat of a brother," Ginny began before starting her own venting about how Ron had caught her and Dean kissing and freaked out, nearly going as far as to imply Ginny was being a hussy. Hermione felt her own anger grow at that.

"He didn’t say it," Ginny admitted, "But he was going to. You should have seen him; even Harry looked pretty mad at Dean, as if he has any right, either."

Hermione was surprised at that.

"It’s because Potter likes you," Bellatrix said. "Both of them are idiots."

Ginny had gone pink at the statement, looking aside. Whether or not Bellatrix took notice of it, Hermione couldn’t tell as the witch sighed, shifting in her chair. "If we can keep the quaffle on the other side of the court, we can win. Dean’s a decent chaser, and––"

"Dean’s a chaser?" Hermione questioned.

"Because of Katie," Ginny said. "Last I heard, she’s not expected to return until after Christmas."

Hermione felt as though Ginny had thrown a bucket of cold water on her with that statement. "Of course," she said in a soft whisper. "So he plays alright?"

Ginny gave a shrug. "Well enough, he’s not Katie, but he’s not bad, either. With practice, I think he could get as good as Demelza and me."

Hermione doubted that Dean could become as good as Ginny, but she smiled in support nonetheless. Bellatrix, however, had no trouble stating that Dean wouldn’t get anywhere near Ginny’s ability before admitting that, yes, he was a decent player. Better than her other beater, at least.

"But he’s doing well, too," Ginny said. "He got that hit at the beginning of practice."

Hermione tuned them out as she looked at the time. She was meant to meet with Dumbledore that evening and would need to leave soon.

It didn’t take her long to make it to Professor Dumbledore’s office. As she said the password and entered the stairs, a sudden wave of nausea overcame her as she wondered why Dumbledore had summoned her.

Was he worried about Bellatrix? Was something else afoot? Were there Death Eaters, or...was she somehow failing her classes. Had she forgotten to attend one? No, that would be ridiculous. She had carefully and meticulously made up a timetable following the one Professor McGonagall had provided her.

"Miss Granger, come in," Dumbledore greeted, opening his door wider to permit her entry. Hermione stepped in, thanking Dumbledore as she took a seat before him. "Would you like a lemon drop?" he asked, nodding to the bowl of hard-boiled lollies on his desk.

"No, thank you," Hermione said, feeling nausea tighten in her stomach.

Dumbledore took a piece, unwrapping it as he said. "Worry not. I am here only to see how our mutual friend has been fitting in."

Hermione paused, shifting in her seat. "She’s...good. She joined the Quidditch team and is making friends with Ginny and some of the others..." she trailed off there. Bellatrix wasn’t making friends with anyone else, other people kept trying to be friends with her, and then Bellatrix would cooly deflect from them. "I mean, she’s doing well in classes."

"Yes, her marks are similar to how they were when she was in school. Though I suspect she’s feeling a little unchallenged."

Hermione’s shoulders deflated. "Yes, sir," she admitted. "But I think Quidditch and the Duelling Club help."

Dumbledore’s eyebrow arched at her comment. "She’s started a duelling club?"

"Well...her, Ginny Weasley and I did, sir. With permission from Professor Flitwick. She’s an accomplished duellist."

"You know who she was trained by, I take it?"

Hermione felt anxiety rise in her "Yes, sir. But if you’re worried, she’s not showing a lack of showmanship. She’s fair. She doesn’t hurt anyone intentionally. A bit...show-boaty at times, but I think she sincerely enjoys it."

Dumbledore nodded, drinking in her words. "Has she...admitted to any memories coming to the surface?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not that she’s confided in me."

"And do you feel she would if she had?"

Hermione paused at the question, taking the time to think it over. Bellatrix hadn’t confessed to much of anything that she was aware of...and yet...she would admit her faults and apologise when she agreed that she’d done the wrong thing. "I do," Hermione said. "Is there a chance the memories will return?"

Dumbledore frowned, leaning back in his chair as he pondered the question. "I’m not sure," he admitted. "It’s an usual thing that occurred. The Bell Jar was not something the ministry trialled on any person, so we are in uncharted territories," he said. "I can tell you the reason for its invention was something of a party trick. The person, in their hubris, had invented it to show off the very thing you may have seen...a bird hatching from an egg and dying before reverting back."

Hermione nodded.

"It was only when some darker uses of this were done did the Ministry think to take it away, but I don’t believe the creator did anything for ill intent." Dumbledore sighed, and Hermione watched as he hid his hand beneath his sleeve. "I’m afraid I couldn’t tell you, Miss Granger, what could become of your friend. She could very much remain as she is...or....she could regress into who she was."

"Or become someone else," Hermione offered.

Dumbledore nodded, agreeing. "Or someone else," he agreed. "Is there much of what you know to be her old self in her?"

Hermione bit her tongue. She didn’t want to disclose anything that would jeopardise Bellatrix’s chance of happiness.

"I assure you," Dumbledore said as if reading her thoughts. "That I would not punish someone for thinking about doing anything. We all have desires to do something selfish or otherwise."

Hermione took a breath. "She can be a bit...cruel sometimes. No, not cruel...she’s...callous at times. I think she takes pleasure in feeling powerful and making someone uncomfortable, but she has also apologised when she has hurt me, so I don’t think she’s cruel for cruelty’s sake."

"I see," Dumbledore said. "And what of any other parts of her personality?"

"She’s not mad if that’s what you mean. She’s very methodical, I think. Strategic and clever. Sometimes she says things that represent a specific ideology, but they’re not...set in stone. She even admits to liking some things that are muggle. I think she’s bored like you said, and things like duelling and quidditch give her a chance to be challenged. I don’t think she cares about getting the best mark so as long as she knows she has the best spell-work. Sometimes I think she’s even holding back on what she can do."

"She is," Dumbledore said. "But make no mistake, I do believe I was right in placing her with you. You challenge her. You challenge her views, her ideology, her spell work, and, it seems, her duelling capabilities; otherwise, I would suspect that she would have grown bored what that. I’m very proud of you, Miss Granger. Few would take on such a task."

Hermione flushed, feeling the words hum through her. "She’s not evil, sir. She’s just a person."

"Precisely, Miss Granger. I wish more people could see that about one another."

Over the week, the Quidditch team had a run of tension over it. Bellatrix would often come back, snarling about Ron’s keeper skills, though she and Ginny briefly argued over it. "Why are you defending him?" Bellatrix had snapped as they set up for the duelling club.

"Because he’s my bleeding brother, and if anyone’s going to insult him, it better well is me," Ginny snapped. "Don’t you have any family?"

Bellatrix had flinched at the comment before turning her head. Hermione knew that Bellatrix had two sisters, but she was unsure if Bellatrix recalled either of them. For the life of her, Hermione couldn’t recall if she’d ever discussed Bellatrix’s family with her outside of the brief moment during Summer.

Despite their argument, Ginny and Bellatrix managed to move on quickly, with Ginny quickly apologising, admitting she’d forgotten that Bellatrix’s family had passed, and agreeing that Ron was a right prat, so yeah, it was fair Bellatrix was allowed to snap about that.

"I’ll refrain from talking about his Quidditch skills around you," Bellatrix agreed as a way to bridge the peace. "Unless he does something truly atrocious."

Ginny nodded, agreeing that was fair, and they were able to continue on with the club, practising their duelling skills with the new members (who now included a few third and fourth years willing to put the work in).

However, one evening, Ron returned without saying a word to anyone from practice, looking as though he was on the brink of crying. When Hermione had looked to Bellatrix and Ginny, neither of them had a response to why only citing that he’d been a prick during practice and had made Demelza cry.

Which, yes, was awful but not something that would usually make Ron so depressed.

Hermione took to asking Harry. "He wants to quit the team," Harry said. "I dunno what to do. His nerves are all over the place."

"Is it because of Bella?" Hermione asked tentatively.

For the first time, Harry’s mood didn’t sour at the mention of her name. "No, she’s been fine. Keeps to the other side and lets Peakes handle Ron’s side of the pitch—she’s even helped Peakes learn a few things."

Hermione blinked. It was the most positive thing Harry had said about Bellatrix, ever. "You almost sound impressed by her."

"I won’t go that far, but...I spoke with Dumbledore about it the other day. And he raised a few good points. I don’t trust her, but...I don’t think she’s, you know, Bellatrix Lestrange anymore. She’s just some cocky transfer who’s a decent player."

Hermione rushed forward, hugging Harry. "Oh, Harry! I’m so glad you think so."

"Oh! Well," Harry said before giving a nervous hug as he pulled back. "Don’t get me wrong, Ron still doesn’t like her, but I’ll try and convince him."

Hermione smiled, and for what it was worth, Harry did try. The next morning, he came and sat near her and Ginny under the guise that the team should sit together before the big day. It was nice, and Hermione felt her mood skyrocket despite how dejected Ron looked, glaring at his food and casting side-eyes at Bellatrix.

It was a start, at least.

It was as Hermione was feigning interest in Jimmy Peakes and Bellatrix as they explained their strategy that she noticed, out of the corner of her eye, Harry handing Ron a glass of pumpkin juice whilst holding a familiar gold vial.

"Don’t drink that, Ron!" Hermione gasped.

Harry and Ron both looked up at her, though the rest of the Quidditch team remained deep in discussion.

"Why not?" Ron asked.

Hermione felt anger roll through her. She couldn’t believe that Harry would cheat. Sure, she understood that Ron’s nerves were bad, but using liquid luck so that he could win some stupid sports game was beyond horrendous.

"I saw you put something in that drink," she said.

Harry had the nerve to balk at her suggestion. "Excuse me?" He said, pretending not to know what she was talking about.

Hermione’s mood soured. "You heard me. I saw you. You just tipped something into Ron’s drink. You’ve got the bottle in your hand right now!" She pointed to his right hand, which Harry quickly stuffed away into his robes.

"Don’t know what you’re talking about," Harry assured.

"Ron!" She said, staring at her friend. "I’m warning you. Do not drink that!"

Ron quickly snatched the cup, draining it all in one go before he smacked his lips and wiped his face with the back of the robes. "Stop bossing me around, Hermione," he glared.

Hermione felt the terror twist in her. If anyone knew, if anyone found out, then not only would Harry be pulled as Captain, but the whole quidditch team could get benched. Bellatrix would be furious!

Hermione felt her chest tighten, looking at Ron and Harry as she felt the terror pull at her. "I can’t believe you," she said before storming off. She heard Ginny call at her, but the fury burned so hard in her chest as she stormed off.

Half of her didn’t want to watch the game and see what happened. The other half wanted to be there in case there was anything she could do to stop it.

As she stood before the door heading out to the Quidditch pitch, she tugged at the robes tighter around her, ignoring the growing chill.

"Hey, Hermione," someone called.

Hermione sighed, turning on her heel to look at where Cormac was. Offering a tight smile, she waved at him a bit. Lately, Cormac had been trying to spend more time with her, talking to her during duelling club and at the Slug Club events, but whenever he rose to meet her one on one, she advised that she had prefect duties or homework to do.

Which wasn’t a lie. She did often go to do those things.

"So...I was wondering if you wanted to go to the Quidditch match together?" He asked, smiling at her.

Hermione felt her stomach twist. She didn’t. While she had no poor feelings towards him as of late, since their first Duelling Club, he’d been nothing but respectful towards her, she still didn’t find him someone particularly interesting.

The truth was, she should be upfront and tell him that she wasn’t interested, and yet she couldn’t find herself saying such a thing.

Since that dream she had, since going to the prefect bathroom, Hermione had very occasionally spent time getting to know herself and was finding herself drifting more and more into dangerous fantasying territory with a certain dark-haired witch. She’d tried to think about other people, made-up or otherwise, but the image in her mind always returned back to Bellatrix.

"Sure," Hermione said. "Have you watched any of their practices?"