Chapter 6
The Quidditch pitch appeared under a gloomy morning, empty and silent, as if abandoned in a misty world. The sky stretched out in endless gray, pressing heavily, with thick clouds drifting slowly, obscuring the faint light that remained. Light rain fell softly, coating the field in a chilly, silver-tinged mist.
The greenish-gray grass was damp, void of people, with only the empty rows of stands standing silent in the shadows. A gentle wind swept by, creating a clattering sound from the towering flagpoles, and a cold whistle echoed through the desolate space. In the distance, the rings seemed to fade into the darkness, gradually becoming hazy and motionless.
No noise, no laughter—everything was eerily quiet, to the point where one could almost hear their heartbeat in the stillness. The Quidditch pitch seemed like an abandoned land, dark and cold, carrying a mysterious feeling, awaiting the arrival of brave souls.
She sat in an empty row. There were only a few students around to watch. She chose a spot where she could observe easily without drawing attention. It was still early, but Ginny had dragged her out of bed. Today was hardly an ideal day to be outdoors. But, well, she had to come at Ginny’s insistence.
All the students wanting to join the Quidditch team had gathered on the pitch below. The whispers of younger students filled the air, mixed with the smug looks of some others. Everything became increasingly chaotic as people barely paid attention to Harry standing there.
Ron stood nervously off to the side, his self-consciousness evident. While the others were busy chatting, he alone stood silent. Perhaps out of shyness and insecurity, he looked around aimlessly, his hands shaking. She knew Ron always dreamed of joining the Gryffindor Quidditch team but constantly doubted his appearance and abilities.
Harry stepped in front of the candidates, with Ginny standing behind him. He hesitated slightly, then spoke up, “Alright. This morning, I’ll have you do a few drills...to assess your strengths.” He looked flustered. “Please be quiet.” His weak voice echoed through the noisy crowd.
Unable to bear it, Ginny shouted, “SHUT UP!” Her voice was so powerful that even Hermione, sitting at a distance, could hear it. The idiots immediately stopped their actions when they heard Ginny. Everyone parted and faced Harry. Harry looked at Ginny with gratitude. “Thanks.”
“Alright, just because you were on the team last year doesn’t guarantee you a spot this year. Understood?” He tried to sound as strict as possible, though to the idiots, it probably seemed laughable.
Hermione sat alone, feeling bored as she watched others talking. Most of the spectators were Gryffindor students. Not far from her was Lavender Brown. It was obvious who she was there to support—Ron. Brown’s gaze, filled with admiration and infatuation, was brimming with love for Ron.
Scary...
The crowd gradually spread out, and Ron stood hesitantly, insecurity in his gaze. His face showed clear confusion and shyness around the other students. Even though he was hard to like, he looked rather pathetic right now. He clutched his broom, his eyes fixated on one spot. Cormac approached him, giving him a light pat on the back as a supposed gesture of encouragement, though it was actually a display of disdain. He looked muscular and tall, with short blonde hair and a handsome face. No doubt, many girls were probably fooled by his appearance.
“No need to be nervous, Weasley,” he said arrogantly.
“Nervous?” Ron grimaced.
“Yeah, I’ll be competing for the Keeper position too. It’s just business.” Cormac was so confident he might’ve already imagined the outcome. Though talking to Ron, his gaze didn’t even meet Ron’s, showing his disdain.
Ron was surprised, raising an eyebrow with a half-smile, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Really? With your bulk? Don’t you think you’re more suited for a physical role?” Ron nearly burst out laughing.
Cormac remained calm and confident. She hated his arrogance. “The Keeper requires agility, speed.” In a flash, a Snitch appeared out of nowhere, and he caught it instantly. Ron gaped at the scene. Cormac smirked, as if this was just routine. “Here’s my chance.”
Then he looked over to where she was sitting, casting her a rather...strange look. She turned away, unwilling to engage with someone so arrogant. A wave of irritation filled her, making her feel suffocated.
“Hey, care to introduce me to your friend Granger?” He gave Ron a mocking smile. “I wouldn’t mind being her next, you know?” He threw her a suggestive glance. Hermione rolled her eyes. Her face was clearly showing her annoyance—couldn’t he see that? Was he blind?
Ron paused, smirked, a look she couldn’t quite believe she was seeing.
Turning to face Cormac, his initial insecurity shifted to mockery. “I think she’d love you. She likes people like that Draco fucking Malfoy,” mentioning Malfoy made Ron’s mouth feel as though it was on fire. Yet the satisfaction of saying it rose high.
Cormac burst out laughing, doubling over. He even pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. “I didn’t think someone as smart as Granger would have such terrible taste. But I’m better than Malfoy. And that makes me all the more interested in this girl. She's mine” He looked at her again, still with that annoying look. She met his gaze, still irritated. He even winked at her. Ron also looked up at her, frowning angrily.
“Are they talking about me?” she murmured. Cormac gazed at her even more intently than before, while Ron looked furious, and both were staring her way. From their expressions, she was pretty sure she was right.
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The trials began, and the players took their places. Ron and Cormac flew to their posts. Cormac held his head high, radiating confidence. Across from him, Ron’s face was flushed, partly from anger and partly from fear. Only one Keeper position would be filled, so if Ron lost, he’d regret it forever.
Around them, cheers and shouts of encouragement erupted. The stands were vibrant with noise. Many voices were chanting, most cheering for Ron. She glanced around, unsurprised. He was always the focus, being friends with Harry. But Cormac also had no shortage of fans.
“Go, Ron!” voices of some girls called.
“Cormac, you have to win!”
“Weasley! Go!”
......
Lavender sat with some other girls, her worried eyes never leaving Ron. Every few moments, she’d stand up, looking anxious about him.
“Go, Ron,” Lavender murmured.
High above, players jostled to catch the ball. There were plenty of shoves, and many had already fallen. Falling from such heights had to hurt. Those with physical advantages pushed others out of the way, while smaller players could only endure. Wounds were starting to appear, big and small alike.
The rain began to pour harder, making it harder for some to control their brooms and causing them to fall to the muddy, slippery ground. Rain blinded them, making it difficult to track the ball. Many simply gave up and left early.
Even so, Cormac was handling his position skillfully. He caught each ball effortlessly and struck various poses as he did. Girls in the stands cheered incessantly for him. This had become his show. Victory seemed right within his grasp.
Ron, however, was still lost in his own fear, his gaze unfocused. Only when the ball came flying toward him did his instincts seem to kick in. Ron blocked many shots. Somehow, Ron seemed to shine.
Unfortunately, right after catching a ball, Ron slipped off his broom. Luckily, he held on to the broomstick, dangling in midair.
Harry watched him worriedly from below, his eyes never leaving his friend. “Come on, Ron,” was all he could say.
Ron bravely climbed back up on his broom. His confidence surged. A ball flew toward Cormac, and this time, Cormac missed it. His initial confidence was replaced with confusion. Ron caught the final shot spectacularly.
The crowd erupted, chanting his name, with applause echoing everywhere. Everyone was thrilled for him, especially Brown. Hermione figured she’d seen enough, so she left. She passed by the cheering crowd, not sparing a glance. Whether Ginny looked for her or not, she didn’t care. She’d seen enough of Ron’s show. She felt exhausted.
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In the common room, Ron was basking in his victory, marveling that he’d actually won. Harry sat nearby, pretending to listen, though his eyes were fixed on “The Half-Blood Prince.” Ginny sat across the table, only half paying attention.
“I must admit, I thought I’d miss that last one,” he said confidently, grinning brightly. “I hope Cormac isn’t too disappointed,” he teased.
“You should be glad Cormac missed it. He’s good but too cocky,” Ginny muttered lazily.
“He’s not fit to be Keeper. I’d do a much better job,” Ron smirked, barely hiding his mockery.
While the three of them were sitting together, Hermione entered from the stairs, still holding a few books. She wore a tight gray turtleneck sweater paired with a dark black midi skirt that reached her knees. The soft wool material made her look both simple and incredibly alluring in a modest way. As she walked in, the attention of the three of them shifted to her.
Ron looked away, then whispered to the other two, "Cormac told me he likes Hermione. He even asked me to introduce them." Ron snorted.
"Well, it's not wrong that he likes her. Hermione is beautiful and smart," Ginny nodded in admiration.
"She’s always got books and books, so boring," Ron complained. "He must be blind."
Harry spoke up then, "That’s not fair, Ron. Hermione deserves to be liked by others." Ginny agreed with Harry. "Don’t say that just because you don’t like books."
"I'm just saying. You’re starting to act like her now, just books," Ron rolled his eyes, tilting his head. He noticed Lavender was looking at him dreamily. He smiled to himself.
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Hermione heard everything Ron said, not missing a word. She quietly walked toward the stairs, but not to her room—she was heading to Harry's. Entering the room, she frowned at the mess. She approached his luggage, quickly opening it. After a brief search, she found the map. It was the Marauder's Map that Harry had received from Fred and George. She tucked it into her bag and left the room. No one would suspect that she had been in there, or that the map had disappeared.
She returned to her room with the map in hand. Sitting at the table, she opened the Marauder's Map. Hermione wanted to keep track of every activity happening in the school, so she could manage and control things more easily. She might need to monitor everyone’s movements, especially those who could interfere with her plans.
She carefully observed every corner. There were only a few students in the hallway, and some professors. But she still couldn’t find the one she was looking for.
Malfoy
She didn’t see his name. Anywhere he could be was empty. It was as if he had vanished from the school, no matter how hard she searched. Then she realized where he might be. "That room," she whispered. He must be there.
Even Snape didn’t appear on the map, which made her suspicious. While she hadn’t paid much attention to Snape’s actions, this was strange. She knew Snape always had his suspicious activities, but she wasn’t sure what to do about it.
She looked back at the map, and Malfoy’s name appeared. His footprints showed he was heading toward Snape’s office. Snape’s name appeared too, indicating he was in his office. Hermione was stunned—she had checked thoroughly before but hadn’t seen it. Now, it was there. She began to suspect that these two were involved in something together. If that was the case, did Snape also know about the secret room?
The question left her dizzy. More and more unresolved issues kept piling up.
–––––––––
It was now the end of October, and Draco still hadn’t made a move. He appeared less and less in classes, and she couldn’t find him in the hallways. On the map, his name flickered in and out. It showed that every night, he still went into that mysterious room without any concern.
Brave.
Harry’s suspicion of Malfoy had never waned. The book had shifted Harry’s attention elsewhere. She always saw Harry with the book, even though he never really read seriously. The book had also helped Harry do well in Potions, earning him proud looks from Slughorn.
Jealousy.
Snow had fallen, and the air was growing colder. Everyone began paying attention to their attire, usually long coats, jackets, and scarves. She dressed similarly, but in a more refined way. Sweaters or turtlenecks, wide pants, and scarves were the perfect combination. Her colors were mostly white, gray, and black. Not flashy, but not bland either. She loved herself and enjoyed this new change.
She was sitting alone at the Three Broomsticks. She was fine with that. Everyone else was busy with the upcoming Quidditch match. The team had new members, so they had to prepare more thoroughly. She didn’t like Quidditch, so she needed to make a to-do list for the day. Everything would go perfectly if Ginny didn’t drag her to watch the match.
She sat at a vacant table in the corner, able to look directly out the door, relaxing with a glass of wine. She was getting used to drinking, as it truly helped her relax. Even though wine wasn’t good for her, it didn’t matter now. She took another sip, her face reddening slightly, but it wasn’t an issue.
She leaned her hand on the table, using it as support. She tilted her head toward the door as a group of people walked in. The first thing she noticed was the shiny blonde hair, and without thinking, she knew who it was. A feeling stirred inside her. Malfoy walked in with Theo and Blaise. The three of them entered, but Malfoy stopped suddenly, causing the other two to crash into his back. When they looked up, they saw Hermione sitting alone, drinking. They were somewhat surprised. Hermione sat up straight, acting as though she hadn’t noticed them. She raised her glass and drank it all.
Theo and Blaise exchanged looks. "That’s Granger. Why is she here... alone?" Blaise asked.
"Take a guess," Theo chuckled lightly.
"Hm... women are hard to figure out. I give up," Blaise shrugged, looking defeated.
Draco snapped out of his surprise, and the other two followed him. They went to the bar to order drinks. The place was crowded, and there were no tables available for three. Only one spot left—the table where Hermione was sitting. Hearing this, the three of them looked at each other.
"I’ve been wanting to try sitting with the Golden Girl," Blaise said, half-jokingly.
Theo just smiled when he saw Draco’s angry expression. But even though Draco didn’t want to, the other two headed toward Hermione’s table. Draco reluctantly followed. They sat down, with Draco across from Hermione. She paused, looking at the three men in front of her. She was stunned, unable to say a word.
Theo spoke up when he saw her silence, "There are no more free tables. This is the only one left." Hermione looked at him.
"Then why did you choose to sit here? Just kick someone out," she raised an eyebrow, responding calmly.
"Courtesy, Granger. We can’t just ask them to leave if they’re a beautiful girl like you," Blaise winked. Draco stayed silent.
"Then why are you so sure I won’t kick you out?" she poured more wine into her glass, drinking without caring about them.
Blaise pretended to be in pain, "I don’t believe you’d do that." She shook her head. "If you did, my heart would break."
Draco kept his usual indifferent expression, and with his Occlumency, she couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
She said coldly, "Do you have a heart?" Her words made the three of them go silent. Theo couldn’t hide his smile, and Blaise froze in place.
"Yes, I do."
He didn’t ask further. The three of them began drinking. Hermione kept drinking one glass after another. She was drunk, but her hand didn’t stop. Only alcohol gave her the courage.
"Have any of you ever had your secrets discovered?" she asked vaguely. "Secrets you don’t want anyone to know."
The three of them looked at her, realizing she was drunk and babbling. They found it amusing to see her drunk for the first time. It was certainly a memorable sight. Draco, however, felt uneasy. But seeing her drunk, he just thought she was rambling.
"Hermione, you’re drunk. Let me..." Theo reached for her glass, but she pushed him away.
She straightened her back and said seriously, "I’m serious, Theo." She gave him a side-eye.
The room was loud, with cursing and laughter filling the air. The place was crowded with people coming and going. Their trio was unusually silent. Of course, her question was ridiculous. There was no way these guys would share anything with her. Were they afraid she’d tell others? She might have done that before, but not anymore. Blaise’s gaze shifted elsewhere, Theo’s smile faded, and Draco stayed silent, just drinking his wine as if nothing was happening. Each of them had their own dark secrets they didn’t want anyone to know. Their silence and avoidance proved everything.
What was he thinking?
Did he think she was crazy?
What would he say?
Why?
She set her glass down, calming herself. She was fine. "I’m just joking. Don’t worry about it," she straightened her worn sweater.
"You really know how to make people curious, Granger," Blaise said. "You should have an army of your own. There are plenty of people who would kneel at your feet just to get a look from you."
"Really? Too bad I don’t like idiots," she smirked. "And I don’t want filthy people touching me."
"Smart people know how to choose their masters," Theo said straightforwardly.
She replied slowly, her eyes sharp, "Smart people know how to make others their slaves."
She was smart.
"But sometimes those who consider themselves the smartest are actually the most foolish," she leaned back in her chair.
"Are you implying someone, Hermione?" Theo raised an eyebrow, pouring wine into a glass. "Sometimes, I wonder if that damned Sorting Hat mistakenly placed you in Gryffindor.
You’re a Slytherin, Hermione."
Hermione rested her chin on her hand. "Do you think I’m as scheming and rotten as you all?"
Blaise shook his head, disagreeing with her choice of words. "Not scheming, rotten—but Ambitious, Proud, and Clever. We know what we want and we get it."
"You use dirty tricks to steal it," she rolled her eyes, "in the most despicable way."
"Gryffindor has held you back so much, you should join us," Blaise winked, Theo smiled faintly. "The best choice you’ve ever made."
"Are you inviting me to join you? You should remember who I am before saying that," she said seriously.
"The golden girl, Potter’s best friend, the smartest witch of our time, and a..." Theo suddenly paused before finishing his sentence.
"Mudblood," she continued. Her voice was even, without hesitation. Her gaze unwavering.
The term "Mudblood" had been tied to her life since she first arrived at Hogwarts. Many years had passed, and its impact had lessened. Hermione thought back to the young girl who was hurt by that name, who once felt inferior. But now, she had grown and accepted it. To her, "Mudblood" was just the weakness of those who discriminated. She knew, no matter what she did, the name "Mudblood" would always be attached to her.
She couldn’t deny it; she had to accept it.