Harry woke up the next morning to Ron's snoring and early sunlight filtering through the dormitory windows. He stretched, feeling perfectly rested. He recalled the confrontation with Malfoy the previous evening and a smirk emerged on his face. The ponce better understand the pecking order now, although he didn't have much hopes for him. The fucker was nothing but an idiot who didn't know when to back off.
Dean and Seamus were already up, arguing about something Quidditch related as they dressed. Neville was carefully tending to a plant on his bedside table, murmuring encouragement to it in that gentle way of his.
"Morning," Harry said as he swung out of bed.
"Morning," Neville replied without looking up. "Sleep well?"
"Well enough."
Ron finally stirred, groaning as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. "What time is it?"
"Time to get ready for breakfast," Dean called over his shoulder. "Unless you want to miss it."
That got Ron moving. The prospect of missing a meal was enough motivation to get his ass out of bed with remarkable speed.
Harry dressed quickly, pulling on his school robes and running a hand through his perpetually messy hair. Not that it made much difference. His hair did what it wanted regardless of his efforts.
The common room was already filling with students when they descended. Harry spotted Hermione sitting in one of the armchairs near the fire, her bag already packed with books and her hair pulled back into a ponytail. She'd changed a lot as she'd grown up, blossoming into a truly desirable woman.
He had a small smile on his face as he and Ron approached her, and as she looked up, her expression brightening slightly.
She was trying hard, Harry observed with mirth, to put forward a composed, normal look, but he had not missed the way her eyes had lingered on him for a second longer or the sudden flush that had invaded her cheeks, no doubt reminded of what she'd done the previous night.
Dirty, dirty girl.
"Good morning," she said simply. "Ready for the first day?"
"As ready as I'll ever be," Ron muttered with a stifled yawn. "What've we got today anyway?"
"Double Potions with the Slytherins, then Herbology, and History of Magic after lunch," Hermione recited without needing to check her schedule.
"Brilliant," Ron said flatly. "Start the year off with Snape in a foul mood."
They made their way down to the Great Hall together. The castle was alive with activity, students hurrying to breakfast or finishing last minute summer assignments in the corridors. The noise level was higher than usual, conversations buzzing with excitement about the Triwizard Tournament announcement.
But there was another topic that seemed to be on everyone's lips as they entered the Great Hall. Harry caught fragments of conversation as they passed.
"Did you hear what Potter did to Malfoy?"
"Had his wand right at his throat, I saw it myself."
"Threatened to kill him, from what I heard."
Harry ignored the whispers and headed for the Gryffindor table. The enchanted ceiling showed a crisp blue sky with wispy clouds drifting lazily overhead. Owls swooped through the air above them, delivering the morning post.
He slid onto the bench and immediately began loading his plate. Eggs, bacon, sausages, toast. Simple but filling.
Hermione sat across from him, her portions considerably smaller and more health conscious. Ron plopped down beside Harry and immediately started shoveling food onto his plate with the enthusiasm of someone who'd been starved for weeks rather than hours. Harry chuckled as he glanced at him.
He caught movement to his right and he glanced over to see Ginny approaching the table. She looked fresh and bright eyed despite the early hour, her red hair falling loose around her shoulders. She slid onto the bench next to Hermione, her brown eyes meeting Harry's with a knowing glint.
"Morning," she said cheerfully.
"Morning," Harry replied, letting his gaze linger on her just a fraction longer than necessary.
Ginny's lips curved into a small, sultry smile reserved only for him before she turned her attention to her breakfast.
"So," Hermione said after a moment, her voice carefully neutral. "I imagine the whole school will be talking about last night."
"Probably," Harry agreed with a shrug, swallowing a mouthful of eggs.
"You don't seem concerned."
"Should I be?"
"You threatened another student, Harry. In front of witnesses."
Harry shrugged. "He reached for his wand first. I responded. If anyone has a problem with that, they can take it up with me directly."
Hermione's lips pressed into a thin line but she didn't argue further. Instead, her attention shifted to her breakfast, though Harry noticed the way her eyes kept darting back to him. He could recognize that look easily enough. For all her verbal disapproval, her true thoughts showed something else entirely, just like the previous evening after that altercation.
Maybe that's what triggered her rather… audacious display. She simply couldn't control herself.
Last night had been a surprise. But a very good surprise. He had no idea Hermione had that in herself, that she would be so eager and responsive, and the memory of her gasping his name was one Harry planned to revisit frequently.
His attention drifted across the Hall to the Ravenclaw table. Cho was there, laughing at something her friend Marietta was saying. As if sensing his gaze, she looked up and their eyes met. Her cheeks immediately flushed pink and she quickly looked away, but not before Harry caught the small smile playing at her lips.
He smirked and shifted his focus to the Slytherin table. Pansy sat alone near the far end, as far from Malfoy's usual spot as she could manage while still technically being at her house table. Just like last night she was pushing food around her plate without actually eating, her expression carefully blank.
Malfoy himself was holding court with his usual group, though Harry noticed the way his movements were stiffer than normal. The prat kept glancing toward the Gryffindor table, his expression a mixture of anger and what Harry easily recognized as fear.
Good. Let him stew.
"Harry." Hermione's voice was sharp.
He turned back to find her watching him with narrowed eyes. "Yes?"
"What are you looking at?"
"Nothing in particular." Harry picked up his goblet and took a drink. "Just observing."
"Observing what?"
"People. Reactions. The usual."
Hermione didn't look convinced but she let it drop. Instead, she launched into an explanation of the Potions assignment Ron had neglected, her voice taking on that lecturing tone she got when discussing academics.
Harry tuned most of it out, his attention drifting once more. This time his gaze found Katie Bell further down the Gryffindor table. She was talking animatedly with Angelina and Alicia Spinnet, but when she caught him looking, she paused mid-sentence. Her brown eyes held his for a long moment before she smiled and turned back to her conversation.
But Harry noticed the way her cheeks had colored slightly, and the way her fingers played with a strand of her dark hair. Typical.
"Honestly, Harry, you're being very strange this morning," Hermione said, drawing his attention back.
"Am I?" He asked, turning to regard her.
Hermione was quite pretty when she wasn't frowning at him over homework. Her brown eyes were bright and intelligent, her skin smooth despite the dusting of freckles across her nose. And her lips, currently pressed together in mild annoyance, were actually quite appealing.
"You're staring," she said, her voice suddenly quieter.
"Sorry," Harry said, though he didn't sound particularly sorry. "Just noticed your hair looks different today."
Hermione's hand flew to her ponytail self-consciously. "It's the same as always."
"Is it?" Harry tilted his head slightly, studying her. "Looks nicer."
Hermione's cheeks flushed pink and she looked down at her plate, suddenly very interested in her toast.
Ron, oblivious as always, was still shoveling food into his mouth at an alarming rate.
Ginny, however, had noticed. Her eyes sparkled with barely suppressed amusement as she watched the exchange. When Harry glanced her way, she gave him a wink that he answered with the slightest of smirks.
The rest of breakfast passed in relative silence. Hermione remained flustered, sneaking glances at Harry when she thought he wasn't looking. Ron continued eating like it was his last meal. And Ginny kept up that knowing smirk. She was enjoying watching him work his subtle magic on Hermione.
When they finally headed down to the dungeons for Potions, the corridors were crowded with students. Harry walked beside Hermione, close enough that their arms occasionally brushed. Each time it happened, Hermione tensed slightly but didn't pull away.
"Nervous about Potions?" Harry asked quietly.
"Why would I be nervous? I always do well in Potions."
"True. Snape doesn't seem to appreciate that though."
Hermione sighed. "No, he doesn't. But that's hardly new."
They reached the dungeon classroom and filed inside with the other students. The room was dim and cold as always, the stone walls lined with shelves full of ingredients in various states of preservation. The classroom smelled the same as usual.
Harry chose a seat near the back, and Hermione automatically took the seat beside him. Ron slumped into the seat on Harry's other side, already looking half asleep.
The Slytherins filed in moments later. Malfoy entered surrounded by his usual group, his pale face set in a scowl. When his eyes landed on Harry, something flickered across his expression before he quickly looked away and headed for a seat on the opposite side of the room.
Pansy entered last, her posture rigid as she made her way to an empty seat near the front. The students watched her pass with various expressions ranging from disdain to curiosity. She kept her eyes forward, refusing to acknowledge any of them.
Snape swept into the classroom moments later, his black robes billowing behind him like the wings of some giant bat. He moved to stand behind his desk, his dark eyes surveying the class with his usual expression of barely concealed contempt.
"The start of a new year," he said, his voice soft and dangerous. "A time when I am forced once again to attempt to drill basic potion making skills into your thick skulls. Most of you will fail. Some of you will produce barely adequate results. And a precious few might actually demonstrate competence."
His gaze swept over the class, lingering on Harry for a moment longer than necessary. His eyes were calculating, but all he received in return was a stoic look.
"Today we will be brewing the Draught of Peace," Snape continued. "A potion that calms anxiety and soothes agitation. The instructions are on the board. You have until the end of class. Begin."
The classroom erupted into controlled chaos as students began gathering ingredients. Harry stood and made his way to the supply cupboard, acutely aware of Hermione following close behind.
"We'll need valerian root and syrup of hellebore," she murmured, reaching past him for a jar on the higher shelf.
The movement brought her close, close enough that Harry could smell the faint scent of parchment and vanilla that seemed to cling to her. He turned slightly, seemingly to reach for another ingredient, but the shift brought them even closer together, their chests touching and their faces mere inches apart.
Hermione froze, her hand still outstretched toward the shelf. Harry could see the rapid flutter of her pulse at her throat and her parted lips beckoned him closer.
"Careful," he said softly. "Don't want to drop anything."
"I... yes. Right." Hermione grabbed the jar and quickly stepped back, her cheeks flushed.
Harry smiled to himself as he collected the rest of their ingredients and returned to their table. Ron had already started measuring out powdered moonstone with his characteristic lack of precision.
"You're supposed to use exactly three grams," Hermione said automatically, sliding back into her seat.
"I am using three grams."
"That's at least four."
"It's fine."
Harry tuned out their bickering once again and began preparing his own ingredients. Potion making had always come easier to him than people realized. Snape's open hostility made it difficult to demonstrate that competence, but Harry found he enjoyed the precise, methodical nature of it.
He began adding ingredients to his cauldron in the proper order, his movements efficient. Beside him, Hermione worked with her usual intense focus, her brow furrowed in concentration as she stirred her potion exactly seven times clockwise.
Harry chose to give her more attention than his own potion. The way she bit her lower lip when concentrating. The way her fingers moved with care and precision. The way a strand of hair had escaped her ponytail and now hung beside her face.
Smiling to himself, he reached over and gently tucked the errant strand behind her ear.
Hermione startled, nearly dropping her stirring rod. "Harry, what are you doing?"
"Your hair was in the way. Dangerous to have loose hair near potion fumes."
"I... thank you." Her voice came out barely above a whisper.
Their eyes met and held for a long moment. Harry let his gaze drop briefly to her lips before returning to her eyes. Hermione's breath caught audibly.
"Potter!"
Harry turned to find Snape standing beside their table, his expression thunderous.
"I was not aware that grooming oneself was part of the potion making process," Snape said silkily. "Perhaps you'd like to share with the class what you were doing instead of focusing on your work?"
"Just making sure Hermione didn't accidentally contaminate her potion, sir."
"How thoughtful. Twenty points from Gryffindor for your concern."
"That's not fair!" Hermione protested. "He was just helping!"
"Make that thirty points, Miss Granger, for your impertinence." Snape's lips curved into a cruel smile. "I suggest you both focus on your potions before I'm forced to give detention as well."
He swept away, leaving Hermione looking mutinous and Harry entirely unbothered by the loss of points.
"That was unfair," she muttered.
"When is Snape ever fair?"
"Still. You were trying to help and he just..." She trailed off, shaking her head.
Harry chuckled and returned his attention to his potion, which had turned the proper silver shade. He let it simmer for the required time while keeping half his attention on Hermione beside him. She was still flustered, her movements slightly less precise than usual.
The rest of the double period passed slowly. Snape prowled between the tables like a hunting predator, criticizing work and deducting points with abandon. Gryffindor bore the brunt of it as usual, though even some of the Slytherins weren't safe from his scathing commentary.
When the bell finally rang, students began bottling their potions for evaluation. Harry filled a vial with his perfectly acceptable potion and placed it on Snape's desk. Hermione's was equally good, possibly better. Ron's looked slightly lumpy but probably wouldn't kill anyone.
"Pathetic, Potter," Snape said without even looking at Harry's sample. "As always, you demonstrate the bare minimum of competence."
Harry didn't even deem Snape worthy enough to deserve a response. He simply gathered his things and headed for the door. Hermione and Ron followed, both looking relieved to escape the dungeon's oppressive atmosphere.
"That man is insufferable," Hermione declared once they were safely in the corridor.
"Tell us something we don't know," Ron said.
They had a free period before Herbology, so they headed up to the library to work on the essay Snape had assigned. The library was relatively empty this early in the term, most students preferring to enjoy their free time outside rather than buried in books.
Madam Pince watched them with her usual suspicious glare as they selected a table near the back. Harry pulled out his Potions textbook and parchment, though he found it hard to concentrate on the assigned reading about the properties of moonstone. He'd much rather brew than read.
Hermione chose to sit beside him rather than across the table, which struck Harry as interesting. She spread out her own materials and immediately began writing her essay with her characteristic efficiency.
Harry shifted slightly in his seat, letting his knee brush against hers under the table. Hermione's quill stuttered across the parchment, leaving a small ink blot. She didn't move away though.
"Do you have the section on valerian root?" Harry asked quietly.
"Page forty-three," Hermione replied without looking up.
Harry leaned closer, apparently to read from her textbook since his was open to a different page. The movement brought their shoulders together, the warmth of her body pressing against his side.
Hermione's breathing had gone shallow. Her quill remained frozen above her parchment.
"Thanks," Harry murmured, his lips close to her ear.
He could see the goosebumps rise on her skin, could see the way her fingers tightened around her quill. But she still didn't pull away. He smirked.
Ron, oblivious as always, was already struggling with his essay. "How do you spell 'hellebore'?"
"H-E-L-L-E-B-O-R-E," Hermione said automatically, though her voice sounded slightly strained.
The rest of their free period continued in that vein. Harry worked on his essay, all while maintaining that subtle physical contact with Hermione. A brush of fingers when reaching for the same book. His hand resting on the back of her chair. His shoulder pressed against hers as they shared the textbook.
Each touch was innocent enough on its own. But together they formed a pattern that Hermione couldn't possibly be missing. And judging by the flush that had spread from her cheeks down her neck, by the way she kept biting her lower lip, by the way her breathing remained unsteady, she was very aware of what was happening.
When it was time for Herbology, they gathered their things and headed outside. The September air was warm and pleasant, a light breeze carrying the scent of the Forbidden Forest and the grounds.
Greenhouse Three was already filling with students when they arrived. Professor Sprout greeted them cheerfully, her round face beaming as she ushered them inside. The greenhouse was humid and earthy, packed with various magical plants in different stages of growth.
"Today we'll be working with Bouncing Bulbs," Professor Sprout announced. "They're quite temperamental, so do be careful. Work in pairs, please."
Harry automatically moved to stand beside Hermione. Ron paired off with Neville, which left Hermione and Harry sharing a workstation.
"Have you worked with Bouncing Bulbs before?" Harry asked as Professor Sprout demonstrated the proper technique for handling them. "I remember you visiting the greenhouses a few times last year."
"Only in theory," Hermione admitted. "They're supposed to be quite tricky."
"We'll manage."
Professor Sprout distributed the bulbs and they set to work. The bulbs were exactly as advertised, bouncing around their pots annoyingly. Harry had to catch theirs twice before it could bounce away entirely.
"Careful!" Hermione reached out to steady his hands as he attempted to repot the bulb.
Her fingers wrapped around his wrists, warm and soft. Harry glanced at her, noting the concentration on her face and the way her teeth worried at her lower lip.
"Got it," he said gently.
Hermione didn't immediately let go. Her fingers remained wrapped around his wrists for a moment longer than strictly necessary before she seemed to realize what she was doing and quickly pulled back.
"Sorry, I just... you almost dropped it."
"No need to apologize. I appreciated the help," he smiled.
They worked together in comfortable silence, managing to successfully repot their Bouncing Bulb without major incident. Around them, other students were having varying degrees of success. Neville and Ron's bulb had bounced clear across the greenhouse and nearly took out a Venomous Tentacula. Seamus had somehow set his on fire, which shouldn't have been possible but this was Seamus.
When class finally ended, they were all covered in a fine layer of dragon manure compost. Hermione wrinkled her nose as she brushed futilely at her greenhouse robes.
"I'll never get used to that smell."
"Could be worse," Harry pointed out. "Remember when we had to juice Bubotuber pus?"
"Please don't remind me."
They put their greenhouse robes away and headed back up to the castle for lunch. The Great Hall was already packed with students, the noise level considerably higher than at breakfast. Harry led the way to the Gryffindor table and claimed seats near the middle.
Food appeared on the golden plates and Harry helped himself to roast chicken and potatoes. Hermione selected a more modest portion of salad and vegetables. Ron, as usual, loaded his plate with everything within reach.
"How'd you manage to get so dirty in Herbology?" Ginny's voice came from behind them.
Harry turned to find her sliding onto the bench beside Hermione, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she took in their disheveled appearance.
"Bouncing Bulbs," Hermione explained. "They live up to their name."
"Sounds eventful."
Ginny's gaze met Harry's across the table and he caught the heat there, the knowing look that they always shared between them. He knew she wanted him. Probably tonight.
"Very," Harry agreed, letting his eyes linger on her just long enough to make his meaning clear.
Ginny's cheeks flushed slightly but her smile remained confident. She turned her attention to her lunch, though Harry noticed the way she kept glancing at him when she thought no one else was looking.
Further down the table, Harry spotted Katie laughing at something Angelina was saying. As if sensing his attention, Katie looked up and their eyes met. She smiled brightly before turning back to her conversation.
"You're staring around again," Hermione observed quietly.
"Just observing social dynamics," Harry replied smoothly.
"Is that what we're calling it now?"
There was something sharp in her tone, something that made Harry turn his full attention to her. Hermione was watching him with an expression he couldn't quite read. Her brown eyes were narrowed slightly, her lips pressed together.
"Something wrong?" he asked.
"No. Why would anything be wrong?"
"You seem annoyed."
"I'm not annoyed."
"If you say so."
Hermione stabbed a piece of lettuce with unnecessary force. "I just think it's interesting how you're suddenly so interested in observing people."
"Is it?"
"Yes. Very interesting."
Ginny was watching their exchange with barely concealed amusement, her eyes dancing with mirth. When Harry caught her gaze, she mouthed something that looked suspiciously like "good luck" before returning to her meal.
The rest of lunch passed in relative peace, though Hermione remained in an odd mood. She wasn't quite angry, but she definitely wasn't her usual cheerful self either. Harry filed that away for later consideration.
After lunch they had History of Magic with Professor Binns. The ghost professor droned on about the Goblin Rebellions in his usual monotone voice, and within minutes half the class was struggling to stay awake.
Harry sat in the back row with Ron and Hermione. Ron was already nodding off, his head dipping forward before he'd jerk awake again. Hermione was taking notes with her characteristic diligence, though even she looked like she was fighting to keep her eyes open.
Harry leaned over, his breath ghosting across Hermione's ear. "This is torture."
She jumped slightly, her quill skittering across her parchment. "You startled me."
"Sorry. But you have to admit, this is unbearably boring."
"It's educational."
"It's a cure for insomnia."
A small smile tugged at Hermione's lips despite herself. "Well, yes, there's that too."
Harry shifted closer, letting his arm rest along the back of her chair. Hermione's posture stiffened slightly but she didn't tell him to move.
"Your notes are very thorough," Harry observed, glancing down at her parchment.
"Someone has to pay attention."
"True. What would we do without you?"
"Fail spectacularly, probably."
"Probably," Harry agreed, his voice warm with amusement.
Hermione glanced at him from the corner of her eye. Their faces were close, close enough that Harry could see the individual flecks of gold in her brown eyes, could count the freckles scattered across her nose.
"Harry," she said softly.
"Mm?"
"What are you doing?"
"Trying to stay awake during Binns' lecture. What are you doing?"
"I'm... I don't know."
There was something vulnerable in her expression, something uncertain that Harry found oddly appealing. Hermione, who was always so confident and self-assured, looked genuinely confused.
"Then maybe don't overthink it," Harry suggested quietly.
Professor Binns droned on, oblivious to the students who'd completely tuned him out. Ron had given up any pretense of staying awake and was now snoring softly. Around them, other students were in various states of consciousness.
Harry kept his arm along the back of Hermione's chair, his fingers occasionally brushing against her shoulder. Each time he did, she tensed slightly before gradually relaxing again. It was like watching someone slowly getting used to cold water, the initial shock giving way to gradual acceptance.
When class finally ended, students filed out with obvious relief. Ron woke with a start, looking around in confusion.
"Is it over?"
"Yes, Ron," Hermione said with exasperation. "You slept through the entire class."
"Did I miss anything important?"
"Probably not, given that it was History of Magic."
They had the rest of the afternoon free, so they headed back to Gryffindor Tower. The common room was moderately full, students scattered throughout working on assignments or just relaxing.
Harry spotted an empty sofa near one of the windows and claimed it. Hermione hesitated for a moment before sitting beside him, close enough that their legs touched. Ron plopped into an adjacent armchair and immediately pulled out his Potions essay.
"I still don't understand what Snape wants for this essay," he complained.
"He wants you to explain the properties of the ingredients and how they interact," Hermione explained patiently.
"Yeah, but how much detail?"
"At least two feet of parchment."
Ron groaned. "That's going to take forever."
While Hermione walked Ron through his essay, Harry let his gaze wander around the common room. He spotted Ginny curled up in an armchair near the fire, a book open in her lap. She wasn't actually reading though. Her eyes kept drifting to where Harry sat, a small smile playing at her lips.
Harry caught her eye and raised an eyebrow in silent question. Ginny's smile widened slightly and she gave an almost imperceptible nod before returning her attention to her book.
Tonight then.
The thought sent a pleasant warmth through him. Ginny was delightfully enthusiastic and entirely shameless once you got her alone. Last month had proven that quite thoroughly.
Movement near the portrait hole caught his attention. Katie had just entered, along with Angelina and Alicia. They were laughing about something, their voices carrying across the common room.
Katie spotted him and her laughter trailed off slightly. She said something to her friends, who glanced over at him before exchanging knowing looks. Then Katie made her way across the common room, weaving between the furniture with ease.
"Hey Harry," she said when she reached the sofa. "Mind if I sit?"
Ron and Hermione both looked up, Ron confused and Hermione's expression hardening slightly.
"Go ahead," Harry said, shifting slightly to make room.
Katie sat on the arm of the sofa, close enough that Harry could smell her perfume. Something light and floral.
"I wanted to ask you about what you said," Katie began. "About still flying even without Quidditch."
"What about it?"
"Well, I was thinking we could organize some sessions. Just casual flying, nothing official. Keep our skills sharp."
"Sounds reasonable."
"Great!" Katie's smile was bright and genuine. "Maybe we could start this weekend? Weather's supposed to be nice."
"I'll be there."
"Perfect. I'll let Angelina and Alicia know." Katie stood, her hand briefly touching Harry's shoulder. "See you later, Harry."
She headed back to her friends, who immediately leaned in as she began telling them something in an animated whisper. All three girls glanced back at him and Katie's cheeks flushed pink.
"That was interesting," Hermione said, her voice carefully neutral.
"Was it?"
"You're encouraging her."
"Encouraging her to keep flying? Seems like a good idea."
"That's not what I meant."
Harry turned to look at Hermione properly. "Then what did you mean?"
"Nothing. Never mind."
But it clearly wasn't nothing. Hermione had returned to helping Ron with his essay, but her movements were stiff and her voice had lost its usual patience.
Harry watched her for a moment, noting the tension in her shoulders and the way she kept biting her lower lip. Interesting. Very interesting indeed.
The rest of the afternoon passed quietly. Harry worked on various assignments while keeping half his attention on the people around him. Ron struggled through his Potions essay with Hermione's help. Ginny continued pretending to read her book while shooting him looks that promised interesting things later.
As evening approached, students began filtering down to the Great Hall for dinner. Harry gathered his things and stood, stretching slightly.
"Coming?" he asked Hermione and Ron.
They followed him down through the castle. The corridors were busy with students heading in the same direction, conversations echoing off the stone walls. Harry caught sight of several people watching him as they passed, whispers following in their wake.
Still talking about the Malfoy incident, probably. Good. Let them talk.
The Great Hall was already filling when they arrived. Harry led the way to the Gryffindor table and found seats near the middle again. Food appeared moments later and he began serving himself.
Across the Hall at the Slytherin table, he caught sight of Pansy. She was still sitting alone, though several other students kept glancing her way.
One of the students gazing calculatingly at her was a fellow Slytherin.
Daphne Greengrass was known for being intelligent and calculating, a pureblood Slytherin who kept mostly to herself and a small circle of friends. She held herself with a grace that showed her extensive etiquette training, her expression always composed.
Daphne's interest in Pansy went unnoticed by everyone. Everyone but Harry who saw the glance only by chance.
He watched with interest. He'd seen Greengrass with her mother in the Ministry once, and although he didn't know much about her, he could easily tell she had no love lost for either Pansy or the Malfoys.
Even now, she was gazing calculatingly at Pansy, and it didn't look entirely friendly. However, it was interesting that Greengrass was interested in Pansy, given that most of the Slytherins were treating her like she had dragon pox.
"What are you looking at?" Hermione asked.
Harry turned back to find her watching him with that same unreadable expression from earlier.
"Just wondering how interesting things would be this year," he said, turning to regard her.
Hermione averted her gaze quickly, returning to her dinner. Harry gave her a smile as dinner continued. He ate while half listening to Ron complain about Snape's essay requirements. Hermione contributed occasionally, though she still seemed distracted.
When dessert appeared, Harry helped himself to treacle tart. Beside him, Ron was demolishing a piece of chocolate cake with his usual enthusiasm. Hermione absently picked at a small serving of fruit salad.
Harry let his hand rest casually on the bench between them. After a moment, he shifted it slightly so his fingers brushed against Hermione's robes. She tensed but didn't move away.
"You're quiet tonight," Harry observed.
"Just thinking."
"About?"
"Things. Classes. The tournament."
"The tournament doesn't start for weeks."
"I know. But there's a lot to consider. The champions will need to be prepared for anything. The tasks are supposed to be incredibly dangerous."
"They are," Harry agreed. "But that's part of what makes it exciting."
"You can't possibly be thinking of entering."
"Why not?"
"Because it's dangerous, for one thing. And because you attract danger without even looking for it, for another."
"Danger makes life interesting."
Hermione turned to face him fully, her expression serious. "Harry, this isn't a joke. People have died in this tournament."
"I'm aware." Harry met her gaze steadily. "But being cautious doesn't always keep you safe either. Sometimes you have to take risks."
"Not unnecessary ones."
"Who decides what's unnecessary?"
Hermione opened her mouth to respond but then seemed to think better of it. Instead, she turned back to her fruit salad, stabbing a piece of melon with unnecessary force.
Harry smirked and returned to his treacle tart. Around them, conversation flowed as students discussed the tournament, their classes, and various other topics. The enchanted ceiling showed a darkening sky, stars beginning to emerge as evening turned to night.
When dessert finally vanished from the tables, Dumbledore stood to dismiss them. Students began filing out of the Great Hall, heading toward their respective common rooms or other parts of the castle.
Harry walked with his usual group, Ron still complaining about homework and Hermione listening with half her attention. Ginny had fallen into step beside them, her expression neutral but her eyes bright when they met Harry's.
They reached Gryffindor Tower and gave the password. The Fat Lady swung open and they climbed through the portrait hole into the common room.
"I'm going to finish that Potions essay," Ron announced, heading for one of the tables.
"I'll help," Hermione said immediately, following him.
Harry watched them go, noting the stiff set of Hermione's shoulders. Whatever was bothering her clearly hadn't resolved itself. He filed that away for later consideration.
Ginny had settled into one of the armchairs near the fire, her book once again open in her lap. Harry moved to stand beside the chair, leaning down slightly.
"Later," he murmured, too quietly for anyone else to hear.
Ginny's lips curved into a smile. "Mm. Later."
To be continued…
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