mickume/harry_potter_tiny · Datasets at Hugging Face

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"We should go back," Hermione said.
"One more minute."
Hermione waited, and then watched as Bellatrix seemed to draw in a long, deep breath before nodding. "They should be gone now."
No one was outside of the classroom when they tip-toed back into the common room. Both Ron and Harry had gone to bed, leaving Bellatrix and Hermione to creep up the girl’s dormitory stairs and change for bed.
As Hermione went to slip into bed though, a hand caught her wrist and Bellatrix’s lips pressed to hers once again, quickly.
"Goodnight, Hermione."
"Goodnight, Bella."
Hermione’s heart was in her throat as the fingers unravelled, leaving her. All Hermione could think as she climbed into bed, resting her head against the pillow was....
I think I’m in love with Bellatrix Black.
At breakfast, while it was still quiet, Harry confessed that he’d been having both Kreacher and Dobby follow Draco around. "Harry––"
"I know, but...I think he stole some polyjuice potion from Slughorn’s class," Harry said before going on to explain his belief about Draco convincing both Crabbe and Goyle to disguise as girls. Specifically so he could use the Room of Requirements.
"What would he be doing there?" Hermione asked.
Harry shrugged. "Clearly something though. Next time he’s there, I’ll go in and find out what he’s up to."
Hermione frowned. While the explanation was starting to sound more and more likely, Hermione found one problem to that statement. "I don’t think you’re able to go into the room of requirements unless you know what the room is set as, remember? That’s why Umbridge had such a hard time when we..." she trailed off and watched as Harry sighed. "Also, Harry, don’t forget what you’re meant to be doing."
"What?" Harry said, honestly looking clueless.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Slughorn’s memory, remember? The one task you’ve been given."
Harry groaned. "I’m getting to it, it’s not that easy."
"You’ve only made a few attempts so far. Maybe it’s time to rethink tactics and—" she cut off as Bellatrix entered the Great Hall. All thoughts about Slughorn and Draco Malfoy disappeared as she remembered kissing Bellatrix last night.
"You okay, "Mione?" Ron asked. "You’ve gone a funny colour."
Hermione turned back to face her breakfast, grabbing her coffee as she took a big gulp. "I’m fine," she assured, though her heart was beating rapidly and all she could think about was how sweet Bellatrix’s mouth had tasted. The soft noise she made when Hermione’s tongue brushed against hers.
Bellatrix’s moans had reverberated through to her and now all Hermione could think about was how that would feel if Hermione was in her lap and the woman’s hands were...
She snapped her thoughts away, muttering about being behind on a reading for class as she poked at her food.
Bellatrix took her place across from Hermione, beside Harry and began piling food onto her plate. Hermione could hear them talking about the upcoming Quidditch practice, but all thoughts slid away from her when felt Bellatrix’s shoe nudge against hers.
Subtle, at first, almost as if it were an accident. And then...the foot more deliberately dragged against her.
Hermione’s eyes looked up, watching as Bellatrix continued to pick at her food, engaging in conversation with the others. And then her eyes flicked to Hermione’s, holding them for a moment before she smirked and returned back to her conversation.
The witch was teasing her, Hermione realised. And it was working.
Hermione knew she should move and yet she remained paralysed as Bellatrix played footsie with her.
It was absurd. And yet, Hermione felt her heart thud in her chest.
The warm, fluttering feeling of Bellatrix disappeared however when the Daily Prophet arrived. Reading through the news, she felt herself go cold when she read the stories.
"Anyone we know?" Harry asked, dread in his voice.
"Yes," she admitted. "Mundungus Fletcher. He was arrested and sent to Azkaban..." she said, quickly reading through the article, "For impersonating an inferius during an attempted burglary. And..." she scrambled, reading the other stories but Harry had gone quiet. All Hermione managed to say was that a nine-year-old boy had been arrested for killing his grandparents, likely under the imperius curse.
The conversation died completed and they finished their food in silence before Hermione mentioned that she would be off to her class and would see them later.
She expected to see Harry at DADA, their next class following Arthimancy, but when she’d lined up only Bellatrix and Ron were present.
"Have you see Harry?" Hermione asked Ron.
"No, I was doing the essay."
"Last minute?" She scolded. "Show it to me, I’m sure you’ve left some last minute mistakes," she said, holding out her hand. But it was too late. The door opened and Snape stood before them, his brow raised.
"I do hope that you, Miss Granger, know better than to help a fellow classmate cheat his way out what I can only assume is a terrible essay."
Hermione stuffed her hands in her robes, going pink. "No, professor," she assured.
Snape offered nothing else as he stood aside, looking over them as the students filed in. Only a minute later, Harry came bolting through, quickly stuffing something into his bag as Hermione pulled her books out.
"Late again, Potter," Snape said as Harry took his seat. "Ten points from Gryffindor."
Hermione shirked in her seat, looking to Harry and Ron both, willing them not to say anything.
Before class began, Snape took their essays, placing them onto a neat pile on his desk before he began, "Now, if you will all open your books at page––" he paused, grimacing, "What is it, Mr Finnigan?"
"Sir," Seamus began tentatively. "I’ve been wondering, how do you tell the difference between an Inferius and a ghost? Because there was something in the Prophet about––"
"No, there wasn’t," Snape said in a bored tone.
"But sir, I heard people talking––"
"If you had actually read the article in question, Mr Finnigan, you would have known that the so-called Infers was nothing more than a smelly, sneak-thief by the name of Mundungus Fletcher."
As much as Hermione disliked Mundugunus, she was surprised by how open Snape was with his own distaste of the man. Though, she supposed, he had worked closer with them than Hermione had ever gotten to know him.
But as Hermione’s head shifted, she heard Harry whisper, "Shouldn’t he be upset that Mundungus has been arrest––?"
"But Potter seems to have a lot to say on the subject," Snape said, turning to face him. "Let us ask Potter how we would tell the difference between an inferius and a ghost."
Hermione grimaced as Harry stumbled over his words, clearly not familiar with what an inferius was. Something they’d been taught in their third and fourth year. It wasn’t a surprise that Snape caught on to the fumbling and used it as an excuse to humiliate him.
Hermione bit her tongue. She knew that an inferius was similar to what a muggle thought a zombie was. Either way, it was necromantic magic on a corpse, bringing it to life. Usually they followed very simple instructions––defend here. Don’t let anyone pass. Kill everyone. And a more powerful witch or wizard was able to have their magic imbued with more nuance so that such creatures didn’t hurt themselves or their followers, for example.
It was dark magic and of the kind that few outside of Voldemort had ever managed to control.
But Professor Snape only stated simply, "The inferius is a corpse that has been reanimated by a Dark wizard’s spell. It is not alive, it is merely used like a puppet to do the wizard’s bidding.
Hermione felt Bellatrix shiver next to her. Turning, she looked at the ashen expression as the witch withdrew in herself.
"Are you alright?" She asked.
"Fine," Bellatrix assured. "But Harry’s about to get detention again," she said, nodding to Hermione’s otherwise.
Hermione turned, watching as Snape turned away only to see Harry rise in his seat, his mouth opening. Catching the shoulder of his robe, she shoved him back into his seat with a glare. "It’s not worth it," she hissed.
Harry’s expression was furious but as Ron murmured a soft agreement he buried himself in his book for the rest of the lesson, glowering at Snape at every turn.
"Now," Snape began, "Open your books at page two hundred and thirteen and read the first two paragraphs about the cruciatus curse."
Oh, Hermione realised, looking at Bellatrix. She could see Snape’s smirk and despite knowing that the curse was likely to come up in their curriculum––as they had just read about the imperious only two weeks prior––she couldn’t help but feel there was something deliberate about Snape’s choice to study the crucio curse today.
Quietly, the room read up on the curse but Hermione found herself turning to look behind her to where Neville sat.
He looked up, meeting her eye and with it, Hermione saw his anger. Likely reminded that the very person who did that to his parents, the woman who made him an orphan, was sitting there right next to Hermione.
She turned away, looking to Bella. The witch was tapping her nails on her knee, as if there were a new energy to her.
"Are you okay?" Hermione asked.
"Stop asking me that," Bellatrix said, a dark look on her face.
Hermione swallowed back her words, looking away. "I was only try––"
"Perhaps," Snape said, interrupting them, "Miss Black would like to begin by explaining this curse?"
Hermione felt an urgent need to speak-up, but before she could unscramble the words filling her throat, Bellatrix had sat-up tall in her seat.
"It’s the torture curse. Invented in the Middle Ages, it was often used by witches and wizards as a retribution for the torture muggles inflicted on them and their loved ones who were treated as apostates of the church. It creates horrific pain but never kills its victim, unlike it’s sister spell. But it can drive someone mad."
"Quite," Snape said. "I see you’re well-educated on the spell, Miss Black."
Hermione froze, wondering if Bellatrix had somehow confirmed her identity. Surely not. Surely if she had though, Dumbledore would ensure her safekeeping.
"The Dark Arts are not treated as shadows to be feared in Northern Europe, unlike they are here," Bellatrix said, lying cooly.
"Do you believe it’s appropriate to use the curse then?" Snape asked. It was a baiting question, likely to put her on the spot before all of her beers.
But Bellatrix only smiled. "No, sir. I merely meant that the better we understand the Dark Arts, the better we are to witness it. Ignorance only helps to hide those that would use it."
Snape did not ask Bellatrix another question the rest of the class, and Hermione was thankful for it. Her stomach clenched as she looked to Bella.
After class, as Lavender Brown quickly grabbed onto Ron to talk to him about the lesson, Hermione separated from him and Harry both, moving to urge Bellatrix elsewhere. "I know you don’t want me to ask again, but that class was...rough," Hermione said. "It was a lot to be subjected to."
"I’m fine," Bellatrix assured, pulling away. "He only wanted to get a rise from me."
"Do you think he knows?"
"Of course," Bellatrix said. "Dumbledore informed me that he’d notified a staff member––for my own wellbeing, he assured. I had thought it was McGonagall, but I was wrong. I think that woman simply doesn’t like me."
"Oh, well...I’m sure it’s not personal," Hermione lied. McGonagall didn’t tolerate people who were lazy and while Bellatrix did well in her class, she was definitely not trying and very much so unwilling to pursue further credit for the sake of it.
Bellatrix quirked her brow but didn’t comment any further. "It’s lunch time," was all she said. "We could skip and do something else, if you prefer."
Hermione blinked, feeling herself grow warm at the insinuation. "Something else?" She asked.
"Magic...other stuff," Bellatrix said casually, but there was a familiar look on her face that she had when she was teasing her. "Whatever you want."
"I’m pretty hungry," Hermione said tightly. "I think we should have lunch."
"Practically ravenous, huh?"
They were so far out in the open in the corridor. Anyone could overhear their conversation. Yet, there was a larger part than she was willing to admit to that very much so did wish to be dragged to an empty classroom and kissed like they had last night.
She desperately wanted to taste Bella’s lips and feel the woman’s hand brush through her hair. It just wasn’t appropriate.
"Lunch!" Hermione said, turning on her heel.
That weekend there was a practice session in Hogsmeade for Apparition. Before then, Bellatrix had calmly sat with her in the common room, going over everything slowly. She walked her through how to breathe, turn, wave her wand...everything.
During this time, Harry and Ron were busy with other things. Ron was avoiding Lavender Brown, and Harry was likely chasing after Draco.
Not that it mattered. He still wasn't able to get into the Room of Requirements, and no matter how Hermione tried to explain the magic worked, Harry was still convinced he could find a way around it instead of focusing his attention on what he was meant to be doing, which was getting the memory from Slughorn, but Hermione was becoming exhausted by reminding him about that. Harry seemed just as exhausted by her reminders.
"I’ve been trying!" Harry snapped as they stood in the Entrance Hall on Sunday morning.
Hermione held her tongue. She knew that he had lagged behind in potions class in an attempt, but whatever he was trying to do, she didn’t consider it having enough effort behind it. It was lazy if anything, but she knew Harry would only storm off if she said anything.
"Where’s Bella, anyway?" Harry asked. "Shouldn’t she be here?"
"She doesn’t need the Apparition lesson, so she’s doing a Care of Magical Creatures assignment." And then she was going to come and meet up with Hermione out by the lake with Ginny after lunch, but Hermione didn’t say that, given Harry’s poor mood. As if it to make her point, Harry stood there, arms crossed and huffing.
"He doesn’t want to talk to me," Harry said, continuing the conversation. "He won’t let me get him on his own again."
"You have to keep trying," Hermione said, shuffling along as Filch prodded with Secrecy Sensor.
Harry gave a mumbled reply before wishing her and Ron good luck for the lesson as he wandered off.
Ron let out an exacerbated breath and met her eye. "Not much you can do," he offered. "If Harry says he’s trying..."
"He’s not trying hard enough," Hermione said. Though, in truth, she wasn’t sure how to badger it out of him. Slughorn worked best by having his ego flattered. If Harry knew what was good for him, he’d be researching the best ways to flatter his ego and make himself look good. Reminding Slughorn of how important it was to stop Voldemort even...

"We should go back," Hermione said.

"One more minute."

Hermione waited, and then watched as Bellatrix seemed to draw in a long, deep breath before nodding. "They should be gone now."

No one was outside of the classroom when they tip-toed back into the common room. Both Ron and Harry had gone to bed, leaving Bellatrix and Hermione to creep up the girl’s dormitory stairs and change for bed.

As Hermione went to slip into bed though, a hand caught her wrist and Bellatrix’s lips pressed to hers once again, quickly.

"Goodnight, Hermione."

"Goodnight, Bella."

Hermione’s heart was in her throat as the fingers unravelled, leaving her. All Hermione could think as she climbed into bed, resting her head against the pillow was....

I think I’m in love with Bellatrix Black.

At breakfast, while it was still quiet, Harry confessed that he’d been having both Kreacher and Dobby follow Draco around. "Harry––"

"I know, but...I think he stole some polyjuice potion from Slughorn’s class," Harry said before going on to explain his belief about Draco convincing both Crabbe and Goyle to disguise as girls. Specifically so he could use the Room of Requirements.

"What would he be doing there?" Hermione asked.

Harry shrugged. "Clearly something though. Next time he’s there, I’ll go in and find out what he’s up to."

Hermione frowned. While the explanation was starting to sound more and more likely, Hermione found one problem to that statement. "I don’t think you’re able to go into the room of requirements unless you know what the room is set as, remember? That’s why Umbridge had such a hard time when we..." she trailed off and watched as Harry sighed. "Also, Harry, don’t forget what you’re meant to be doing."

"What?" Harry said, honestly looking clueless.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Slughorn’s memory, remember? The one task you’ve been given."

Harry groaned. "I’m getting to it, it’s not that easy."

"You’ve only made a few attempts so far. Maybe it’s time to rethink tactics and—" she cut off as Bellatrix entered the Great Hall. All thoughts about Slughorn and Draco Malfoy disappeared as she remembered kissing Bellatrix last night.

"You okay, "Mione?" Ron asked. "You’ve gone a funny colour."

Hermione turned back to face her breakfast, grabbing her coffee as she took a big gulp. "I’m fine," she assured, though her heart was beating rapidly and all she could think about was how sweet Bellatrix’s mouth had tasted. The soft noise she made when Hermione’s tongue brushed against hers.

Bellatrix’s moans had reverberated through to her and now all Hermione could think about was how that would feel if Hermione was in her lap and the woman’s hands were...

She snapped her thoughts away, muttering about being behind on a reading for class as she poked at her food.

Bellatrix took her place across from Hermione, beside Harry and began piling food onto her plate. Hermione could hear them talking about the upcoming Quidditch practice, but all thoughts slid away from her when felt Bellatrix’s shoe nudge against hers.

Subtle, at first, almost as if it were an accident. And then...the foot more deliberately dragged against her.

Hermione’s eyes looked up, watching as Bellatrix continued to pick at her food, engaging in conversation with the others. And then her eyes flicked to Hermione’s, holding them for a moment before she smirked and returned back to her conversation.

The witch was teasing her, Hermione realised. And it was working.

Hermione knew she should move and yet she remained paralysed as Bellatrix played footsie with her.

It was absurd. And yet, Hermione felt her heart thud in her chest.

The warm, fluttering feeling of Bellatrix disappeared however when the Daily Prophet arrived. Reading through the news, she felt herself go cold when she read the stories.

"Anyone we know?" Harry asked, dread in his voice.

"Yes," she admitted. "Mundungus Fletcher. He was arrested and sent to Azkaban..." she said, quickly reading through the article, "For impersonating an inferius during an attempted burglary. And..." she scrambled, reading the other stories but Harry had gone quiet. All Hermione managed to say was that a nine-year-old boy had been arrested for killing his grandparents, likely under the imperius curse.

The conversation died completed and they finished their food in silence before Hermione mentioned that she would be off to her class and would see them later.

She expected to see Harry at DADA, their next class following Arthimancy, but when she’d lined up only Bellatrix and Ron were present.

"Have you see Harry?" Hermione asked Ron.

"No, I was doing the essay."

"Last minute?" She scolded. "Show it to me, I’m sure you’ve left some last minute mistakes," she said, holding out her hand. But it was too late. The door opened and Snape stood before them, his brow raised.

"I do hope that you, Miss Granger, know better than to help a fellow classmate cheat his way out what I can only assume is a terrible essay."

Hermione stuffed her hands in her robes, going pink. "No, professor," she assured.

Snape offered nothing else as he stood aside, looking over them as the students filed in. Only a minute later, Harry came bolting through, quickly stuffing something into his bag as Hermione pulled her books out.

"Late again, Potter," Snape said as Harry took his seat. "Ten points from Gryffindor."

Hermione shirked in her seat, looking to Harry and Ron both, willing them not to say anything.

Before class began, Snape took their essays, placing them onto a neat pile on his desk before he began, "Now, if you will all open your books at page––" he paused, grimacing, "What is it, Mr Finnigan?"

"Sir," Seamus began tentatively. "I’ve been wondering, how do you tell the difference between an Inferius and a ghost? Because there was something in the Prophet about––"

"No, there wasn’t," Snape said in a bored tone.

"But sir, I heard people talking––"

"If you had actually read the article in question, Mr Finnigan, you would have known that the so-called Infers was nothing more than a smelly, sneak-thief by the name of Mundungus Fletcher."

As much as Hermione disliked Mundugunus, she was surprised by how open Snape was with his own distaste of the man. Though, she supposed, he had worked closer with them than Hermione had ever gotten to know him.

But as Hermione’s head shifted, she heard Harry whisper, "Shouldn’t he be upset that Mundungus has been arrest––?"

"But Potter seems to have a lot to say on the subject," Snape said, turning to face him. "Let us ask Potter how we would tell the difference between an inferius and a ghost."

Hermione grimaced as Harry stumbled over his words, clearly not familiar with what an inferius was. Something they’d been taught in their third and fourth year. It wasn’t a surprise that Snape caught on to the fumbling and used it as an excuse to humiliate him.

Hermione bit her tongue. She knew that an inferius was similar to what a muggle thought a zombie was. Either way, it was necromantic magic on a corpse, bringing it to life. Usually they followed very simple instructions––defend here. Don’t let anyone pass. Kill everyone. And a more powerful witch or wizard was able to have their magic imbued with more nuance so that such creatures didn’t hurt themselves or their followers, for example.

It was dark magic and of the kind that few outside of Voldemort had ever managed to control.

But Professor Snape only stated simply, "The inferius is a corpse that has been reanimated by a Dark wizard’s spell. It is not alive, it is merely used like a puppet to do the wizard’s bidding.

Hermione felt Bellatrix shiver next to her. Turning, she looked at the ashen expression as the witch withdrew in herself.

"Are you alright?" She asked.

"Fine," Bellatrix assured. "But Harry’s about to get detention again," she said, nodding to Hermione’s otherwise.

Hermione turned, watching as Snape turned away only to see Harry rise in his seat, his mouth opening. Catching the shoulder of his robe, she shoved him back into his seat with a glare. "It’s not worth it," she hissed.

Harry’s expression was furious but as Ron murmured a soft agreement he buried himself in his book for the rest of the lesson, glowering at Snape at every turn.

"Now," Snape began, "Open your books at page two hundred and thirteen and read the first two paragraphs about the cruciatus curse."

Oh, Hermione realised, looking at Bellatrix. She could see Snape’s smirk and despite knowing that the curse was likely to come up in their curriculum––as they had just read about the imperious only two weeks prior––she couldn’t help but feel there was something deliberate about Snape’s choice to study the crucio curse today.

Quietly, the room read up on the curse but Hermione found herself turning to look behind her to where Neville sat.

He looked up, meeting her eye and with it, Hermione saw his anger. Likely reminded that the very person who did that to his parents, the woman who made him an orphan, was sitting there right next to Hermione.

She turned away, looking to Bella. The witch was tapping her nails on her knee, as if there were a new energy to her.

"Are you okay?" Hermione asked.

"Stop asking me that," Bellatrix said, a dark look on her face.

Hermione swallowed back her words, looking away. "I was only try––"

"Perhaps," Snape said, interrupting them, "Miss Black would like to begin by explaining this curse?"

Hermione felt an urgent need to speak-up, but before she could unscramble the words filling her throat, Bellatrix had sat-up tall in her seat.

"It’s the torture curse. Invented in the Middle Ages, it was often used by witches and wizards as a retribution for the torture muggles inflicted on them and their loved ones who were treated as apostates of the church. It creates horrific pain but never kills its victim, unlike it’s sister spell. But it can drive someone mad."

"Quite," Snape said. "I see you’re well-educated on the spell, Miss Black."

Hermione froze, wondering if Bellatrix had somehow confirmed her identity. Surely not. Surely if she had though, Dumbledore would ensure her safekeeping.

"The Dark Arts are not treated as shadows to be feared in Northern Europe, unlike they are here," Bellatrix said, lying cooly.

"Do you believe it’s appropriate to use the curse then?" Snape asked. It was a baiting question, likely to put her on the spot before all of her beers.

But Bellatrix only smiled. "No, sir. I merely meant that the better we understand the Dark Arts, the better we are to witness it. Ignorance only helps to hide those that would use it."

Snape did not ask Bellatrix another question the rest of the class, and Hermione was thankful for it. Her stomach clenched as she looked to Bella.

After class, as Lavender Brown quickly grabbed onto Ron to talk to him about the lesson, Hermione separated from him and Harry both, moving to urge Bellatrix elsewhere. "I know you don’t want me to ask again, but that class was...rough," Hermione said. "It was a lot to be subjected to."

"I’m fine," Bellatrix assured, pulling away. "He only wanted to get a rise from me."

"Do you think he knows?"

"Of course," Bellatrix said. "Dumbledore informed me that he’d notified a staff member––for my own wellbeing, he assured. I had thought it was McGonagall, but I was wrong. I think that woman simply doesn’t like me."

"Oh, well...I’m sure it’s not personal," Hermione lied. McGonagall didn’t tolerate people who were lazy and while Bellatrix did well in her class, she was definitely not trying and very much so unwilling to pursue further credit for the sake of it.

Bellatrix quirked her brow but didn’t comment any further. "It’s lunch time," was all she said. "We could skip and do something else, if you prefer."

Hermione blinked, feeling herself grow warm at the insinuation. "Something else?" She asked.

"Magic...other stuff," Bellatrix said casually, but there was a familiar look on her face that she had when she was teasing her. "Whatever you want."

"I’m pretty hungry," Hermione said tightly. "I think we should have lunch."

"Practically ravenous, huh?"

They were so far out in the open in the corridor. Anyone could overhear their conversation. Yet, there was a larger part than she was willing to admit to that very much so did wish to be dragged to an empty classroom and kissed like they had last night.

She desperately wanted to taste Bella’s lips and feel the woman’s hand brush through her hair. It just wasn’t appropriate.

"Lunch!" Hermione said, turning on her heel.

That weekend there was a practice session in Hogsmeade for Apparition. Before then, Bellatrix had calmly sat with her in the common room, going over everything slowly. She walked her through how to breathe, turn, wave her wand...everything.

During this time, Harry and Ron were busy with other things. Ron was avoiding Lavender Brown, and Harry was likely chasing after Draco.

Not that it mattered. He still wasn't able to get into the Room of Requirements, and no matter how Hermione tried to explain the magic worked, Harry was still convinced he could find a way around it instead of focusing his attention on what he was meant to be doing, which was getting the memory from Slughorn, but Hermione was becoming exhausted by reminding him about that. Harry seemed just as exhausted by her reminders.

"I’ve been trying!" Harry snapped as they stood in the Entrance Hall on Sunday morning.

Hermione held her tongue. She knew that he had lagged behind in potions class in an attempt, but whatever he was trying to do, she didn’t consider it having enough effort behind it. It was lazy if anything, but she knew Harry would only storm off if she said anything.

"Where’s Bella, anyway?" Harry asked. "Shouldn’t she be here?"

"She doesn’t need the Apparition lesson, so she’s doing a Care of Magical Creatures assignment." And then she was going to come and meet up with Hermione out by the lake with Ginny after lunch, but Hermione didn’t say that, given Harry’s poor mood. As if it to make her point, Harry stood there, arms crossed and huffing.

"He doesn’t want to talk to me," Harry said, continuing the conversation. "He won’t let me get him on his own again."

"You have to keep trying," Hermione said, shuffling along as Filch prodded with Secrecy Sensor.

Harry gave a mumbled reply before wishing her and Ron good luck for the lesson as he wandered off.

Ron let out an exacerbated breath and met her eye. "Not much you can do," he offered. "If Harry says he’s trying..."

"He’s not trying hard enough," Hermione said. Though, in truth, she wasn’t sure how to badger it out of him. Slughorn worked best by having his ego flattered. If Harry knew what was good for him, he’d be researching the best ways to flatter his ego and make himself look good. Reminding Slughorn of how important it was to stop Voldemort even...