Howlers in the Great Hall
Hermione was in the Great Hall, eating dinner with Draco, when it happened. The noise started as a faint whoosh from above, the sound of something speeding through the air. She barely registered it at first, until the unmistakable crimson glow appeared in her peripheral vision, growing brighter and louder by the second.
Before she could react, the howler exploded into the center of the table with a loud crack, sending a jolt through the air. The entire hall fell silent as the loud voice of Ron Weasley filled the space, the familiar fury and disbelief ringing in every word.
“HOW DARE YOU, HERMIONE?! HOW DARE YOU BE WITH HIM?!”
Hermione’s heart dropped. She didn’t need to hear more. She knew exactly what was coming. The words of the howler filled the Great Hall, echoing off the walls, reaching every corner. She felt Draco’s hand tense around hers as he watched the scene unfold.
“YOU’RE A BLOODY DEATH EATER WHORE! YOU’VE BETRAYED US ALL, BETRAYED ME! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’RE GOING TO THROW YOUR LIFE AWAY WITH HIM, YOU’VE RUINED EVERYTHING! YOU’LL NEVER BE MY WIFE NOW, YOU’RE NOTHING TO ME ANYMORE!”
Hermione’s face burned with shame and embarrassment as the cruel words rang out, the whole hall turning to watch. She could feel their eyes on her, judgment in every glance.
She tried to keep her face composed, but her hands began to shake, the pressure in her chest mounting as the howler screamed louder, the words more vicious.
“YOU’RE NOT WORTHY OF A PROPER WIZARDING LAST NAME LIKE MINE. NOT WORTHY OF ANYTHING. GOODBYE, HERMIONE.”
It ended as abruptly as it had started, the echo of its insults fading into an uncomfortable silence. Hermione felt the eyes of everyone in the hall boring into her, but it was Draco’s gaze that cut through it all. His expression was hard, his mouth set into a thin line as his grip tightened on her hand.
“Don’t listen to him,” Draco murmured softly, his voice the only comforting sound in the otherwise silent hall. “He doesn’t know you, Hermione. Don’t let him do this to you.”
She could barely meet his eyes, the weight of Ron’s words still pressing on her chest. She wanted to shrink into herself, to disappear, but Draco’s presence grounded her. She could feel the intensity of his stare, his protectiveness wrapping around her like a shield.
The students in the hall had returned to their conversations, their murmurs lingering as they glanced over at Hermione, but none of it mattered. The only thing that mattered right now was the pressure of Draco’s hand in hers.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she tried to compose herself, but the tears began to rise in her eyes.
Draco leaned in close, brushing a thumb across her hand. “You don’t have to apologize, Hermione,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “You haven’t done anything wrong. Don’t let him get to you. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
But Hermione could feel the raw ache in her chest, the betrayal from Ron’s words cutting deep. She wasn’t sure how to make it all stop, how to repair the rift that had formed between them.
She blinked rapidly, trying to steady herself, but the tears were threatening to spill over. It felt like the entire room was closing in on her, the noise and the judgment pressing in from every direction.
Draco didn’t hesitate. He stood, pulling her gently from her seat, his arm winding around her waist in a protective gesture as he guided her out of the hall.
“Let’s go,” he murmured, his voice low and determined. “We’re leaving. I won’t let you stay in here with all this.”
Hermione didn’t protest as he led her through the castle, away from the stares and whispers. She clung to him, grateful for his presence, for the quiet strength he offered in the face of the storm that was Ron’s words.
They reached the empty corridor, and Draco paused, turning to face her.
“Are you alright?” he asked, his brow furrowed in concern as he cupped her face gently in his hands.
She shook her head, biting her lip to hold back the tears. “I don’t know how to make it stop, Draco.”
He kissed her forehead softly, his voice soothing. “You don’t have to fix it alone. Not anymore. I’m here.”
Hermione leaned into his touch, feeling his warmth seep into her, reminding her that no matter what was happening outside of their bubble, she wasn’t alone.
“I’m so sorry you had to hear that,” she whispered.
“Don’t apologize for him,” Draco replied, his voice firm. “I’ll deal with Ron. You don’t have to do anything but be yourself. And if he can’t understand that, then that’s his loss.”
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into an embrace that was soft, comforting, and steadying. And for a brief moment, in the silence of the empty corridor, Hermione allowed herself to feel the safety of Draco’s arms and the understanding in his touch.