Summary:
Hermione Granger and the Paradigm Shift » We all know that Hermione went to Slughorn's party with Cormac McLaggen to make Ron jealous. But what if she didn't? What if she came to her senses in time and invited Harry instead? As friends of course.Harry Potter, T, English, Romance, chapters: 20, words: 83k+, favs: 5k+, follows: 4k+, updated: Sep 26, 2020 published: Oct 9, 2019, [Harry P., Hermione G.]
Chapter 1
Hermione Granger and the Paradigm Shift
A/N: To set the stage, this story starts very soon after Ron hooks up with Lavender and Hermione sets the birds on him in anger. A few days later in canon Ron makes fun of Hermione in class, sending her running out of the room. In HBP Harry goes to find her and along the way runs into Luna and subsequently ends up asking her to Slughorn's party. In this story instead of stopping to ask Luna to the party, Harry continues to look for Hermione and...well, you'll see.
The first section is pulled directly from HBP so it is from Harry's perspective. In addition there are a few more small bits of dialogue in this chapter taken straight from HBP as well. All parts taken from JK's work are denoted by a *.
The remainder of the story will be entirely my words and entirely from Hermione's point of view. I will be doing my best to keep everyone in character as much as possible so if I pull this off successfully there will be no over the top bashing or out of character dramatics. If you've read my prior story you should have a pretty good idea what you are in for.
I hope you enjoy!
It now seemed impossible that Ron and Hermione would make up with each other before the holidays began, but perhaps, somehow, the break would give them time to calm down, think better of their behavior…
But his hopes were not high, and they sank still lower after enduring a Transfiguration lesson with them both the next day. They had just embarked upon the immensely difficult topic of human Transfiguration: working in front of mirrors, they were supposed to be changing the color of their own eyebrows. Hermione laughed unkindly at Ron's disastrous first attempt, during which he somehow managed to give himself a spectacular handlebar mustache; Ron retaliated by doing a cruel but accurate impression of Hermione jumping up and down in her seat every time Professor McGonagall asked a question, which Lavender and Parvati found deeply amusing and which reduced Hermione to the verge of tears again. She raced out of the classroom on the bell, leaving half her things behind; Harry, deciding that her need was greater than Ron's just now, scooped up her remaining possessions and followed her.*
Hermione cursed her emotions as she realized history was repeating itself in all the worst ways. She was, once again, wiping away tears in a toilet and, once again, Ron Weasley was the cause. As much as she had grown, as much as their relationship had evolved, she felt like she had been been thrown violently back to that wretched starting point in first year. Based on how much she had learned over that time she was fairly confident she could now handle a mountain troll. But these feelings toward Ron and the rejection she felt...there hadn't been a spell invented that could help her battle that monster...and Harry couldn't save her this time.
'Enough of this,' she muttered to herself as she exited the stall and began splashing water on her face. She was done hiding in toilets. She would not let him win. In an instant she resolved to ask McLaggen to be her date for Professor Slughorn's party. A few hours of suffering in the company of the egotistical neanderthal would be worth it just to see the look on Ron's face when he found out who she was going with. Hopefully she could ditch the buffoon quickly and spend the rest of the night talking to Harry or Ginny.
As she made her way to the exit Luna Lovegood entered.
"Hello," the Ravenclaw greeted her pleasantly before becoming worried. "Are you alright? Has Myrtle been harassing you?"
Hermione marvelled at Luna's perceptiveness before realizing that the water and a bit of magic had fixed the tears but had done nothing to remove the scowl from her face.
"Hello, Luna," she replied as she furiously fought the desire to cry again. "It's not Myrtle and I'm fine...well I'm not fine but it's nothing new and nothing you can help with. It's just Ron teasing me again. I should be used to it by now I suppose..."
Blast it all, she was crying again.
Before she could compose herself Luna pulled her into a hug, causing the tears to begin falling in earnest. "I'm sorry," she muttered helplessly, simultaneously furious at her weakness and grateful for the release.
"I'm sure he didn't mean it," Luna said softly as she patted her back, "though I'm not sure that makes it any better. He will probably sort himself out some day."
Hermione chuckled as she pulled back and managed a weak smile. "You're probably right but I won't hold my breath," she lied. She'd been holding her breath for over five years now.
"That's probably wise," Luna replied serenely as she followed Hermione toward the exit.
"Don't you need to use the loo?" Hermione asked.
"It's all right, I can wait for a bit," Luna calmly replied. "I would have liked someone to be there when I've had a cry."
Hermione struggled to come up with a proper reply to the girl's unique brand of honesty. She was saved from answering as she spotted Harry bounding toward them.
"Oh, hello, Harry," said Luna. "Did you know one of your eyebrows is yellow?"*
Harry briefly glanced at Luna before his worried gaze settled on her. "Hi, Luna. Hermione, you left your stuff-"*
"Oh yes," she choked out as she subtly tried to wipe her eyes free of tears once again. She'd been reduced to a simpering mess in front of Harry too many times in the last few days and his piteous look was too much for her to handle.
"Thank you, Harry. Well, I'd better get going…"* she muttered, having no idea where she needed to be going. She simply needed to get away, as quickly as possible.
She ducked into the nearest classroom available after she was out of eyeshot and angrily threw her things on a nearby desk. Not for the first time in the term she realized she was unnecessarily dismissive of Harry and cursed her own stubbornness. He only wanted to help.
She had let Luna help but for some reason letting Harry help further was a bridge too far. She was supposed to help him. She was supposed to track him down when he was upset and angry. He needed her to keep him on task and to make sure he made good decisions. He had too many things on his plate already and she would not add her hormonal nonsense into the mix.
She sank into a nearby chair and buried her head in her hands. She simply needed a few minutes to center herself and then she would track down McLaggen. With any luck she could find him before dinner and then drop the bombshell on Ron in the Great Hall that night.
She'd not even begun to calm down before the classroom door was flung open and Harry's head peeked through. The look of relief when he saw her offset her anger at being tracked down so quickly.
"Hermione!" he exclaimed, "stop running away."
"I'm not running away!" she lied furiously, cringing inwardly as she realized how stupid she sounded.
"Really?" he asked bemusedly. "You needed to 'get going' to this empty room? Must have been really important," he teased.
"Fine," she replied, trying to push back at the smile his comment had elicited. "Well done, you caught me running away. What do you want?"
She watched as Harry opened his mouth to speak before closing it again. After a few seconds he finally responded. "Err...I wanted to ask you for help on that Potions essay due tomorrow."
Her heart warmed at how determined Harry was being in trying to help without having to admit it. He was rubbish at it but that was beside the point.
"If you really want to help than you should speak up when your friend is being an arse," she replied, sounding much harsher than she had intended. She seemed to be doing that a lot to Harry this term.
Harry bowed his head in contrition. "Ron was out of line back there and I reckon I'll have a word with him later."
"About time," she muttered unthinkingly. Why did she keep doing that? Harry was here...trying to help. He didn't deserve any of her ire.
Her thinly veiled insult seemed to spark something in Harry as his face became much more determined.
"Since you've mentioned telling my friends when they are wrong," he began calmly, "you were out of line setting those birds on Ron."
"He deserved it," she replied angrily. He was supposed to be supporting her.
"Ron was a git after the Yule Ball but he didn't attack you," he continued on to her utter annoyance. "You've no right to be mad at him for dating Lavender. He didn't go about it in the best of ways and they are a bit ridiculous in public but he can date whoever he wants."
"And you have no idea what it's like," she replied sadly. "Watching him carrying on like that...and with Lavender of all people."
As annoyed as she was at Harry for criticizing her it felt good to have it out in the open. She had tiptoed around verbalizing her growing feelings for Ron for so long around Harry that the release was cathartic. She felt her frustration receding just a bit and began to calm.
"I have an idea what it's like," he muttered quietly as he slumped down into the seat across from her.
"Ginny?" she asked tentatively, already knowing the answer. She'd noticed the furtive looks he'd been throwing Ginny's way the last few months. Hermione hated to admit it but he had been much more mature and subtle about handling his heartache than she had been.
"Yeah…" he tiredly replied as he stared at the desk. "And I have no right to be angry at her or to sic a flock of bloody birds at her or Dean. Seriously, Hermione, if I had done something like that you would have been outraged."
He was right. She'd known it was wrong immediately but hearing Harry say it out loud drove it home. She felt a few tears forming again but she didn't fight them this time. She felt Harry clumsily reach for her hand and she let him take hold. No matter what happened with Ron it was heartening to know that she had Harry in her life.
"You're right," she conceded after she had gathered herself. "But don't expect me to apologize to Ronald any time soon. Some day, maybe...but not any time soon."
He chuckled at her reply and nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that would probably be best. He'd just say something stupid and you'd conjure a dragon or something."
"Don't give me any ideas," she replied with a snort. She realized Harry's eyebrow was still yellow and quickly pulled out her wand to fix it. "That was really well done on the transfiguration, Harry," she complimented as she changed it back to its normal black. "That yellow was the exact shade McGonagall asked for."
"Thanks. I didn't get it as quickly as you though," he replied before standing and looking at his watch.
"It's almost time for dinner. I reckon you'd want to give a pass on the Great Hall tonight. Fancy eating in the kitchen?"
As much as she wanted to rub her plan in Ron's face she realized how much better she felt after talking to Harry. An extended break from the drama and emotions was exactly what she needed.
"I think that is an excellent idea," Hermione replied as she stood to leave and gathered her things. "Thanks, Harry," she commented. She made a mental note to thank Luna as well the next time she saw her.
"S'all right," he muttered as they headed out the door. "So, can we review Potions after dinner?"
Dinner with Harry had done a wonderful job in calming her down and putting things in perspective. She was now in a much more relaxed state of mind to talk to McLaggen and set her plan in motion. She'd applied a bit more Sleekeazy's than normal, put on a bit of makeup, and was ready to go.
As she descended the stairs, Hermione quickly scanned the common room and was disappointed to not see Cormac anywhere. The slag was attached to the moron at the lips on a nearby couch and she spotted Harry across the room at a nearby table. She watched as Harry quickly stowed away his Potions book upon spotting her. She knew he only asked her for help as a distraction from the moron...he hadn't needed help with Potions all term due to his cheating..but she honestly appreciated the effort. He'd even taken the seat facing Ron so she could have her back to the disgusting hijinks taking place.
As she took a seat Harry shot her a weak smile and slid a long piece of parchment across the table. "I've got most of it done but if you could check the- Did you do something to your hair?"
She unconsciously smoothed her hair and did her best to appear casual. "Thought I'd try changing up my routine a bit. If it's too much-"
"No!" he quickly interrupted, "it's nice." He leaned forward and spoke in a whisper. "It's just...it looked fine before and I don't think you should change it just for him."
"I didn't change it for Ron," she lied. She hadn't changed it for him, she'd changed it for Cormac to annoy him. That was entirely different.
"Well, that's all right then," Harry replied. She could tell he didn't believe her but was grateful he didn't dwell on it.
She quickly started reading through Harry's essay on potential ingredients to be used in healing potions and felt her fury grow. It was virtually perfect. He had covered all of the relevant points, added in a few ancillary facts to provide further detail, and had done so in roughly half the amount of parchment it had taken her. It would be brilliant if it hadn't been fraudulent.
Hermione looked up to see Harry had busied himself by changing his fingernails to Gryffindor scarlet and gold. Despite herself she was impressed as she watched him cast left handed to give his right hand a matching set.
"I wouldn't change a thing, Harry. But I suppose that's to be expected seeing as the Prince supplied all the answers."
Harry's eyes shot from his handiwork to look at her. He seemed to be trying to push down the anger her words had caused. She felt a bit bad for provoking him after how nice he'd been but it wouldn't be right to let him get away with cheating.
"I didn't use the Prince's book," he stated with forced calm.
"Please," she scoffed, "you must think I'm-"
Her monologue was interrupted as Harry pulled out a much newer looking version of their Potions book and dropped it on the table. "I used Ron's book as a reference. I did it for you…I wanted you to have some things to correct and add so you could get your mind off of Ron and Lavender. I guess I've learned enough about potions already this year thanks to the Prince."
She folded her arms in disbelief. "If that were the case how on earth would you know to suggest Occamy shells could be added to speed up the healing effects? I know for a fact that isn't covered in the standard text. It's rarely mentioned because-"
"The cost of the silver component in the shells makes it impractical to be used for healing potions," Harry interrupted. The Prince made a note about the silver in their shells helping with disinfecting wounds and the cost-"
"So you admit it then," she interrupted triumphantly. "You did need help."
Harry pulled the parchment from her hands and began gathering his things. "I read that two months ago for a different potion and applied what I learned to this assignment. What I learned, Hermione.
"Just forget it," Harry muttered and stood up to leave.
"Wait!" she blurted, pulling on his arm. "Just wait...please," she finished in a quieter tone.
She pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath. Harry didn't deserve any of her nonsense at the moment. He was being very considerate and, most infuriatingly, he had a point. "I'm sorry," she grit out.
Harry slowly sat back down and began pulling out his things again. "S'all right," he said kindly, "I reckon you've had a pretty bad week. If you'd like I could check over your essay. You know...give you some tips on how to improve it."
She let out a small laugh and relaxed once again. "Don't push your luck, Potter," she warned. Why couldn't it be this easy with Ron?
As if on cue Cormac Mclaggen strolled through the portrait hole. This was the perfect opportunity to ask him to the party and Ron would have a front row seat.
"Hermione, could you give me a hand?"
She looked to see Harry once again holding his wand in his left hand and pointing it at his fingernails. "I think I got lucky getting it to work and now I can't get them turned back."
She glanced back at Cormac and realized he was staring at her. He apparently had noticed the little bit extra she had done to her appearance and clearly approved. He shot her a smile and she fought the urge to vomit.
"Hermione?" Harry called once again and held up his hand.
"Oh, right...sorry," she replied as she pulled out her wand and quickly fixed his nails.
"Brilliant. Thanks, Hermione," Harry replied with a grin before continuing to practice.
Hermione smiled to herself as she watched his nails now alternating between green and silver. Apparently he had moved onto the Slytherin colors. "Not bad, Harry," she complimented.
"It really brings out my eyes don't you think?" he joked as he held up his hand and displayed his work.
She laughed and realized there was a much better, much saner option than having to spend an evening with Cormac. "Harry, have you found a date for Professor Slughorn's party yet?"
"No," he grunted out as he continued practicing. He'd moved onto the Ravenclaw colors now.
"Would you like to go with me? As friends?" she asked hopefully.
"Yes!" he blurted, clearly relieved that he could stop worrying about the task. "You're a lifesaver, Hermione."
Hermione realized she was just as relieved and smiled. "Have you been able to manage violet? That one gave me a bit of trouble."
Harry scrunched his face in concentration and cast the spell, causing a large shock of purple hair to sprout on the back of his hand.
"Well, it's violet. I suppose that's something," he joked as he reversed the effect.
She grabbed his wrist and moved his wand closer. "You need to be a bit more precise with your wand motion. That's what worked for me." As she guided his hand through the proper motion she immediately thought back to her overbearing instructions on how to pronounce Wingardium Leviosa...which made her think of Ron...which annoyed her.
But this was Harry. He listened to her advice intently and tried again, producing a deep violet hue on his thumbnail.
"A Ha!" he exclaimed in triumph.
Despite the many things they had in common Hermione was immensely grateful that Harry was, quite often, nothing like Ron.
A/N: If you are a fan of the Harmony pairing I strongly encourage you to join the Discord at discord dot gg/2GcXw8R. It's chock full of great people and is a great resource for finding the best Harry/Hermione fics out there.
Chapter 2
As she assessed her appearance in the mirror Hermione allowed herself a small smile. For the second day in a row she had spent a few extra minutes tamping down the stubborn fuzzball that was her hair and was pleased with the results. If she was honest with herself her main motivation was still to show Ron a bit of what he was missing but that wasn't the only reason. She honestly liked how it looked.
"You look lovely today," her mirror chimed in. "Can we expect this to be your new routine going forward?" the mirror asked, the hopefulness apparent in their voice.
The mirror had stayed relatively quiet over the years after a harsh comment early in first year had led to Hermione lecturing for fifteen minutes on improving one's appearance being a false and easy crutch to hide from and ignore self worth issues. Hermione wasn't sure if it was the substance or the volume of the message that had cowed the mirror but regardless, their comments from then on had been much milder and much less frequent.
"I'm considering it," Hermione answered. "Do you really think it suits me?"
"Oh yes!" the mirror replied. "It's amazing how taking just a bit more time can make such a difference. Not that you didn't look fine before, but the small change suits you," it hastily added.
"Thank you," Hermione replied with a smile as she grabbed her bag.
Despite Hermione knowing intellectually that the mirror's personality wasn't 'real', she'd always felt a bit bad for the magical item. Lavender and Parvati seemed to have daily consultations with their mirrors. It was all Hermione could do not to start flinging hexes listening to Lavender droning on about her Won-Won the last few mornings. The Yule ball had been her mirror's one night of glory surrounded by days and days of boring sameness. Hermione decided to throw her a bone.
"I'll be attending a get together tonight so I'll be taking a stab at using a bit more makeup and maybe a few mild beauty charms later."
"Really?" the mirror replied in hopeful disbelief. "I know just the thing!" it continued in a much louder voice, the years old dam holding back its tamped down enthusiasm temporarily forgotten.
"Nothing too crazy, mind you," Hermione clarified. Best not to set unrealistic expectations.
"Of course, of course," the mirror quickly replied. Although they meant for the tone of their reply to be muted it was clear that Christmas had arrived early. Six years worth of Christmases.
"Enjoy your day!" the mirror happily shouted as she left the room.
She reached the bottom of the stairs and was disappointed to see that only Harry was waiting for her. Despite the turmoil of the last few days she missed Ron's presence. Greatly.
A bit of it was informed by the years of insecurity she felt that the trio's friendship could end at any time. That without Ron or Harry around to entertain and lighten the mood the other would grow bored and seek out other, more interesting people. After over five years of friendship she knew it was silly but she suspected the feeling would never go away entirely.
"Ron went on ahead...I told him we'd catch up with him at breakfast," Harry supplied as they exited the common room.
They walked in silence for several minutes until Harry spoke again. "Your hair looks nice...uhh...again," he clumsily blurted.
She smiled to herself. Only Harry would be so awkward at giving a compliment that it somehow made it even more endearing. He was trying so hard. She was so glad she hadn't invited McLaggen.
"It didn't take too much effort and I knew I'd be doing a bit extra for the party later, anyway. My mirror was thrilled," she replied with a laugh.
Harry snorted. "Mine gave up on me as a lost cause years ago. The best I can rate is it doesn't look as bad as usual.
"You don't need to worry, Harry," she reassured. "Girls love your hair."
"You're joking," he scoffed.
"You have no idea," she replied in annoyance. The number of comments that Hermione had been subjected to on the topic during her time at Hogwarts was unnerving. Ginny alone could write a novel opining on Harry's locks with enough thoughts on his eyes to warrant a sequel.
Thankfully over the last couple of years Ginny had grown fond of the things that had made Harry truly special as well. Based on the glances Ginny still shot at Harry when Dean wasn't around it was clear she was still a big fan of the hair and the eyes though.
"You do this thing where you run your hand through your hair when you're working through a spell in class or when we're studying. Girls completely lose the plot."
"Stop teasing, Hermione," Harry replied in disbelief. He'd grown so used to the staring over the years he no longer gave a thought to the reactions he garnered...especially the positive ones.
"I'm not teasing," she reassured. "When we were working on Transfiguration last night half of the girls and a few of the boys couldn't keep their eyes off of you."
To her joy Hermione had also noted that Ron kept sneaking envious glances their way, clearly wishing he could have been sat with him. With the party nonsense sorted Hermione and Harry had spent the remainder of the evening challenging each other to more complex color combinations and patterns. The joking and relaxed conversation were a welcome relief to the scowling and scolding she had been doing so often lately.
"Well, I'm sure it's down to this anyway," he muttered in annoyance, pointing to his scar.
"It's different this year," she noted sincerely, "after Dumbledore's Army and the Department of Mysteries."
"I'll take your word for it," he answered grimly.
"Don't worry, Harry," she teased, patting him on the arm. "I'll protect you from your admiring public."
"My hero," he grunted as they entered the Great Hall.
Her good mood evaporated slightly as she spotted Lavender tittering over something Ron had said.
"We can sit at the other end if-"
"No," she forcefully interrupted. Last night taught her that acting the idiot and purposely avoiding or antagonising Ron would be letting him win. She would not let him win. She noticed the slight unease on Ron's face as she casually took the seat directly across, paying him no mind. It felt good to win despite how small and petty the victory was.
Lavender giggled at something Ron muttered and it immediately set her nerves on edge. "She's a bit ridiculous these days," Parvati said in a hushed tone beside her. Hermione suspected the girl felt bad for laughing so hard at Ron's joke yesterday.
"Young love," Hermione mused sarcastically, drawing a laugh from Parvati. Hermione had spoken quietly enough that Lavender could not have heard exactly what was said but based on her annoyed expression she knew it was most likely about her. Yes, small victories were important.
"Looking forward to the party tonight?" Parvati asked.
"I am, actually," Hermione replied honestly. "Are you going?"
"Didn't get asked," she replied with a sad shake of the head. "Who are you going with?"
"Harry. As friends," she hastily added. She spotted the smug expression on Ron's face in hearing she hadn't secured a proper date and, surprisingly, wasn't nearly as annoyed as she expected.
"I love what you've done with your hair by the way," Parvati complimented.
"Thanks," she replied pleasantly in a voice purposely loud enough for Ron to hear. "It's just something I decided to try on a whim the other day. Harry said he liked it so I decided to keep up with the routine. Some people are worth the extra effort."
She didn't have to look to know that Ron was scowling again...she could practically feel it.
Small victories were excellent.
To her surprise she actually made it down to the common room before Harry. She had worried the extra time she spent getting ready would have forced Harry to wait but thankfully she was mistaken.
Unfortunately however, McLaggen was there. Her stomach turned again as he blatantly leered at her. "Looking good, Granger. Save me a dance, yeah?" he said confidently as he exited through the portrait hole. She suddenly felt the urge to take a shower.
"Wow," she heard from behind her and turned to see Harry standing at the bottom of his dormitory steps. "You look great, Hermione."
She felt her face warm at his compliment and noticed how nice he looked as well. Even better than normal. "You too, Harry. Did you do something to your hair?"
It still looked a bit of a mess...it wouldn't be Harry if it didn't...but it looked like a slightly more organized and planned out mess.
"Yeah," he said as he bowed his head. "Seamus showed me a spell to help keep some of it in place. My mirror was speechless."
"It looks very nice," she complimented.
"What can I say, you inspired me," he replied with a chuckle.
Hermione realized that the volume of female voices in the room had grown much quieter as well. Apparently she wasn't the only one who approved of Harry's efforts. Harry, unsurprisingly, had no clue.
Seamus bounded up to Harry sporting a huge grin. "I told ya, Harry," he said as he playfully punched his arm and sat down at a nearby couch.
"What did he tell you?" Hermione asked, somewhat afraid of what nonsense had come out of Seamus' mouth.
"He said the girls' fann-" Harry began before stopping abruptly and looking around in embarrassment. "He said the girls would like it. Ready?"
"He's not wrong," she said amusedly as she wrapped an arm through his and pulled him toward the exit. It was only after they had made their way out of the room that she realized she hadn't thought to look for Ron in the common room. Another victory.
As they entered Professor Slughorn's office Hermione marveled at the spectacle in front of her. It was, quite simply, the most attractive group of people she had ever seen together. To a person the adults in the room exuded an easy confidence that they simply belonged there. Most of the students, however, seemed utterly terrified and unsure of what they should be doing. Slughorn's prior get together had been nice but it was nothing like this.
Harry simply looked unimpressed and unenthusiastic. She was not surprised.
It was clear that Professor Slughorn had cast several expansion charms in the room as it's normal configuration could not have held so many people in addition to the band and dance floor.
As frivolous and shallow as it was she felt an odd sort of validation that she...the pushy, stuck up mudblood... was there…with these people. Parkinson and her crude sense of entitlement based on nothing more than her parents money and who she opened her legs for would have stuck out like a tacky sore thumb. She didn't though. She belonged...and so did Harry...whether he wanted to or not.
She was broken out of her musings as a beaming Slughorn bounded to their side. "M'boy, I'm so glad you could make it. And you too of course, Miss Granger!"
"Thank you, sir," she replied, "I appreciate you thinking of us."
He gave her a dismissive hand wave. "Of course you would be invited. How could I not invite my two best students?"
As much as she wanted to be flattered it spoiled it a bit that he was falsely praising Harry as well. She mentally reminded herself to not ruin the evening with her stubbornness.
"What's that smell, professor?" Harry interjected in a tone that suggested he was not impressed with Slughorn's comment and wanted a change of topic.
She didn't think it possible but the professor's grin grew even larger. "Just something I came up with a few years back. Do you like it?"
"I...do," Harry replied uncertainly. Hermione thought it was quite pleasant as well.
"What would you say the scent reminded you of?" Slughorn continued. Based on the expression on his face he already knew what Harry's answer would be.
"It smells like...well, actually I don't know what it smells like...but I know I like it," Harry slowly answered.
Harry had verbalized her thoughts exactly. It was so pleasant and unusual...yet so familiar. As she focused on the scent she felt slightly more comfortable and relaxed. Magic was clearly at play
"That's because you haven't," Slughorn enthused. "It's a variant of the Amortentia potion I created several years ago."
"Don't worry, don't worry," Slughorn reassured as Harry's expression hardened. "The ingredients that would key the potion to a specific person are obviously not included and it is infinitely less powerful than Amortentia. No one will be losing their minds or changing their personalities...simply relaxing a bit and feeling at ease. It is a party after all!"
"Is it airborne sir?" Hermione asked, fascinated by the execution of such a potion. Normally she would be annoyed at someone using a potion so casually to affect people's emotions but she found herself not being bothered in this instance. Whether it was because she was at a party where people were meant to relax and enjoy themselves or the potion was doing its job she wasn't sure.
"Five points to Gryffindor!" Slughorn praised. "There are small cauldrons placed throughout the room. The potion becomes airborne due to the heat being applied. The tricky part comes into play with the amount of heat present. As more is released into the air there is less potion in the cauldron. What is left becomes hotter due to the lower volume, releasing at a greater rate. Any theories how I manage this inconsistency?"
Before she could posit a theory Harry spoke. "You don't have a fire under the cauldron...it's some sort of heating spell applied to the surface."
Slughorn's eyes bulged in excitement. Clearly Harry was on the right track. "And…" he prompted Harry to continue.
"The spell is designed for the heat to decrease over time...because when there is less potion the heat would need to be lower in order to maintain the same amount being released into the air."
"Ten points to Gryffindor!" Slughorn nearly shouted. "Wait until I tell Severus how quickly you worked it out! I've been telling him what a natural you are at Potions but he was not hearing it."
Hermione, for her part, was shocked.
The solution was perfectly logical and she was positive she would have come to the same solution with a little more time. But this was Harry...and he had sorted it out so quickly...most likely thanks to the Prince. Suddenly Slughorn's potion was no match for her stubbornness and she felt a bit of annoyance growing.
But through the haze of anger Hermione thought of Harry's comment from the prior night. Despite the source of the information it was clear that Harry had learned the solution. She mentally cringed as she realized her dismissive attitude toward Harry was remarkably similar to Professor Snape.
"That was well thought out, Harry," she complimented honestly. She would not treat Harry like Professor Snape.
"Thanks," he replied quietly, bowing his head in slight embarrassment. She realized her simple comment appeared to mean more to him than Slughorn's gushing praise
"M'boy, there are a few people here that you must meet," Slughorn stated, quickly wrapping an arm around Harry's shoulder and directing him across the room. It all happened very quickly and smoothly...as if Harry had been hit by a bus in the most pleasant way possible.
Hermione began to follow and a voice spoke from behind.
"Best to leave them to it," the voice supplied. "He won't give up until your friend makes the proper connections. If you let him have his fun now he'll leave you two alone for the rest of the night."
She turned to look at the source of the advice. He was a middle aged man...calm and casual...extremely comfortable in his own skin. There was a handsomeness to his face that suggested he was quite the catch when he was younger. The years and his seeming inattentiveness to staying in shape had dulled the impact...but it was there.
"Klaus Dagworth," he supplied warmly, offering his hand in greeting.
"Hermione Granger," she greeted cautiously as she shook his hand, still a bit taken aback by the stranger's forthrightness. The man's eyes lit up in recognition.
"Ahhh...I was hoping to meet you tonight," he answered, clearly pleased at the turn of events.
Hermione instantly felt on edge, realizing that this was simply another moron wanting to get closer to Harry. He had most likely read Skeeter's articles from fourth year and was coming to all the wrong conclusions.
"I'm not sure what your expectations are but Harry is my friend and he doesn't like people who fawn over him."
"Who?" Dagworth answered, now clearly confused.
"You want me to introduce you to Harry Potter, right? Well it's not going to happen," she stated, folding her arms in annoyance.
"That was Harry Potter?" he asked as he motioned to a nearby couch, inviting her to sit. "He's shorter than I expected."
As the man sat Hermione stood firm, arms still folded. "You expect me to believe you know me but not Harry? I may be a student but I'm not stupid, you know."
He held up his hands in contrition. "Let's begin again. I go by Klaus but my proper name is Nickolas."
Nickolas Dagworth...the name sounded familiar but she couldn't quite place it.
"I work at the Ministry...in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures," he continued.
Then it clicked. He was the person who had politely responded to all of her impassioned letters regarding house-elf rights. Her mind coursed through all of the outraged insults this man had to suffer through thanks to her. Despite her rantings his replies were always polite and gracious, always thanking her for her advocacy and updating her on the department's ongoing efforts.
"Oh god," she muttered in embarrassment as she took a seat.
He laughed and gave her a consoling pat on the shoulder and handing her a drink. "There's nothing to apologize for, Miss Granger. Your passion and empathy on the subject was a breath of fresh air. Although sorting out the elves you set free from Hogwarts was a bit of a wrench."
"It worked?" she asked, stunned and pleased that her knitting had yielded results.
"Just temporarily until the elves caught on to what you were doing. We were able to re-establish the bond relatively quickly for the few who fell for it," he reassured.
Typical. She should have known his kind words were just that...words to placate a schoolgirl on a pointless crusade.
"Well you certainly lived up to your department's name. Wizards and Witches must establish control, right? Can't mess with the brainwashing after all."
She expected him to laugh and patronize her for being so naive. Instead he waited for her to calm before speaking.
"As I recall from your letters you are muggleborn. Are your parents still married?" he asked inexplicably.
"Yes," she replied.
"Happily?"
"Of course," she snapped. "I'm not sure what point you are trying to make but-"
He interrupted without pretense. "If there had been a clerical error with their marriage registration and they'd legally never been married would you expect them to go their separate ways?"
"That's entirely different," she scoffed. Her instincts were right. He was patronizing her.
"So if a house elf chooses to bond it's brainwashing but if two human beings choose to marry it's free will? Why is one different than the other?"
She sat back and considered...really considered his words. She'd heard the argument before and it did have merit. But as much as it made sense it still felt like an oversimplification and an easy excuse. Just like his letters he was big on talk without the actions.
"So better to do nothing then?" she scoffed in reply.
"No," he said with a chuckle. "We keep fighting for regulations requiring proper treatment and to allow elves to make the choice to bond or unbond themselves."
"And how is that progressing?" she asked, already knowing the answer.
"Slowly...too slowly," he replied tiredly. "You have no idea how slowly. Sluggy had such high hopes for me," he chuckled.
"Sluggy?" she replied in amusement. Do you mean Professor Slughorn? Why would he be disappointed in you? You're a department head."
He motioned to the party going around them. "Do you see the people here? Celebrities...athletes...people in real positions of power. Sluggy fully expected me to be right there with them. Minister for Magic before you're forty m' boy," he mimicked in a voice eerily similar to the Potions professor.
"I was top in my year... hyper focused on being the best and making a difference. But I've stayed in the least respected department in the Ministry since graduation."
"What happened?" she asked.
"I quickly realized I was making a difference where I was...where I needed to be... and the other nonsense just got in the way."
"Nonsense?"
"Things like this," he answered, as he once again motioned to the room. "Sluggy's parties are all right but you know what I mean. Meaningless get togethers where you pretend to be interested in talking to people you have nothing in common with and normally would never talk to."
"I'm surprised he still invites you after all these years," she observed. "I would think he'd forget about the people he thinks are disappointments."
Dagworth quirked an eyebrow as he considered her comment. "You think he just does this for the prestige of being associated with these people, don't you?"
"Isn't it obvious?" It seemed blatantly obvious to her.
Dagworth chuckled. "That's part of it for sure...but only a small part. He's very good at identifying talented people and helping them with what they need for the future. Not necessarily what they want mind you...but what they need. He's a Slytherin in the best of ways."
Hermione scoffed in indignation. "I think you are giving him far too much credit." She liked the man but it was clear to her that Professor Slughorn was thoroughly shallow and selfish in the relationships he cultivated.
Dagworth took a drink and leaned back. "From first year on I was the top in Sluggy's class. Always the first to answer his questions...always the highest marks. But as the years went on he started muting his praise in class and fawning over other students' lesser efforts. It was a bit infuriating if I'm honest."
Hermione silently commiserated with the man's frustrations. Seeing others receiving more recognition for inferior work was maddening.
"It took me many years and several glasses of mead before I built up enough nerve to bring it up with Sluggy. He wasn't surprised...or angry…he just smiled. Then he annoyingly pointed out how much harder I worked in his class over the last few years than I would have…that I'd grown a bit conceited in my status in the class and was beginning to cut corners."
Hermione could see where his story was heading and didn't like it one bit.
"Then he started naming all of the people he thought I felt had received too much praise and started ticking off why. The muggleborn girl who was a bit quiet and unsure of herself, the son of the Minister for Magic saddled with unreasonable expectations but was simply an 'above average' student, the bloke who was always second in our year and was constantly reminded of that fact. He named off every one I was thinking of and his reasons for doing it."
She thought about Harry and how little he'd been praised over the years for something he actually deserved to be praised for...something as simple as doing well in class. About how much Ginny had come into her own over the last few months. How much more determined she herself had become to prove that she deserved the praise in Potions.
"Do you know that man speaking to your Mr. Potter?"
She looked over to see Harry speaking to an older gentleman. Harry wasn't actually speaking very much...he was listening as the man droned on enthusiastically. She also noticed a small group of girls nearby doing their best to appear as casual as possible while they openly stared at Harry. Harry, of course, had no clue.
"His name is Elred Worple," Dagworth supplied. He's a writer...a biographer to be precise. I'm sure right now he is trying to convince Mr. Potter to let him write his life story."
Hermione laughed. "Well I'm sorry to disprove your theory about Professor Slughorn but that is the last thing Harry needs or wants."
"Maybe today," Dagworth continued, "but I'm sure Sluggy didn't expect Mr. Potter would accept the offer tonight. But what about ten years from now? How many unauthorized biographies full of nonsense will have been written by then? At that point Mr. Potter might want someone...someone he can trust...to tell his story."
Hermione opened her mouth to dispute Dagworth's assertion and abruptly closed it once again. She remembered back to how unwilling Harry had initially been in speaking with Rita Skeeter for the Quibbler article last year. But that article had done a world of good.
She looked up to see Slughorn now smoothly guiding Harry to someone else: a rather imposing, serious looking woman that she instantly recognized. She had met Gwenog Jones at Slughorn's last party and had not been impressed. The woman had been a little too pleased with Ginny's gushing and a little too uninterested in her simply because she didn't play Quidditch.
"So what's her purpose, then?" she asked, pointing their way.
"Well, Sluggy forced Mr. Potter to take his tonic introducing him to Worple so I'm guessing this is his reward. Everyone deserves a reward for taking their tonic. That's Gwenog Jones, captain of the Holyhead Harpies."
"While I can see why Professor Slughorn would think Harry would like that, he's wrong," Hermione chided. Harry wants to be an auror once he graduates and someone recruiting him for their Quidditch team because of his celebrity would be just as annoying to him as Worple."
Dagworth chuckled. "I take it you don't follow professional Quidditch. The Harpies are an all female team so unless Mr. Potter subjected himself to some very specific transfigurations she isn't trying to recruit him."
Dagworth scratched his chin in contemplation. "From what I know of her Gwenog couldn't give two shits about fame or celebrity. She only cares about one thing: playing and talking about Quidditch. I know she scouts the Hogwarts matches whenever she can attend and has probably seen your Harry play. From what I've heard he's quite good and Gwenog loves talking Quidditch with good players. I'm guessing she's been bored out of her mind tonight with this lot. Does Mr. Potter like talking about Quidditch?"
"You have no idea," she said in disgust.
"Well there you have it," he said triumphantly. "I'm sure she's dissecting the matches she's seen him play and coaching him on how he can improve. I'm guessing your Mr. Potter is most likely used to people fawning over him. Gwenog won't hold back in telling him what he could do better."
Hermione looked back and saw Gwenog now hunched over, mimicking riding a broom. She seemed to be explaining something and Harry was nodding his head, intently listening to every word spoken and occasionally adding to the discussion.
"Fine," she replied grudgingly, "you might be right about Professor Slughorn. But if that's the case who am I meant to be talking to?"
He held out his hand once more, a smug expression on his face. "Nice to meet you. I'm Nickolas Dagworth."
Hermione shook his hand again and smiled. "So are you the tonic or the reward?"
"I think I might be both," he laughed.
She smiled and spotted Ginny out of the corner of her eye making her way toward Harry and Gwenog, Dean following quickly in tow. Harry had done his best the last few days to distract her from Ron. Now it was time to repay the favor.
"Well, it's been a pleasure Mr. Dagworth but I think I need to save Harry from having to drink more tonic."
He nodded and smiled as she stood to leave. "It was a pleasure meeting you. You two make a lovely couple," he complimented.
"We aren't- we're just friends," she corrected before quickly making her way toward the group. Ginny was now excitedly talking to Gwenog while Harry looked like he wanted to flee. Rapidly.
She made her way through the gaggle of girls who had set up shop near Harry's new location and grabbed his hand once again.
"Excuse me," she interrupted smoothly before turning to look at Harry. "You promised me a dance, Harry."
"Err...right," he mumbled as she led him away. "It was nice to meet you, thanks for the advice" he called back to the group. Hermione noticed a disappointed expression flash on Ginny's face as they headed toward the dance floor.
"Thanks for the rescue, Hermione," Harry said gratefully. "I'm rubbish at dancing though."
"Don't worry, Harry," she reassured. "You only have to suffer through one song to keep up appearances. Besides, the music they've been playing is much slower and casual...no formal danci-"
But her speech was interrupted as Filch quickly bounded past them, furiously dragging Draco Malfoy by the ear.