Animals
Ten minutes later, much to Ernie’s disappointment, he and Luna sat opposite one another on the sofas, chatting and drinking their lukewarm tea. SG, pot and all, was installed at the base of the column closest to the coffee table. Luna had chosen a spot halfway between her and Ernie’s bedrooms, which opened off opposite sides of the lounge. The column was wide enough to offer protection from knocks and closer to the kitchen than the corridor, in case of drafts.
“What about you, Luna?” Ernie asked. “Anything you miss from home?”
“Just my Dad.”
“Any pets?”
“No. We’ve always had animals around; we live in the countryside so there are loads of birds and all the woodland things like badgers, hedgehogs, even otters nearby. Do you have a pet?”
Ernie swallowed a bite of pastry and smiled. “I have a Pygmy Puff.”
“Do you?”
“I got it for my Mum. But then our dog sort of adopted it against its will and my Mum kept panicking he’d chew on it so… he’s mine now.”
“Do you have him here?”
“Oh yeah, he’s in my bedroom. I can’t let him roam around in case Crookshanks takes a shine to him.”
“Can I see him? What’s his name?”
“Of course. His name’s Walter.”
Over Ernie’s shoulder, Draco’s bedroom door creaked open. Draco’s yawn emerged shortly before he did, still sleep drunk in a pair of green boxers, one hand sweeping his hair from his face.
“Hello Draco.” Luna said brightly.
“Fuck!” Draco’s eyes snapped to Luna and Ernie, their empty tea cups and half-eaten pastries. “What are you two doing up already?” He paused behind the sofa. “Suppose I should put some clothes on.”
“Please do.” Ernie agreed.
Luna smiled at Draco. “Ernie said if I go into his bedroom he’ll show me his Pygmy Puff!”
Draco grinned. “Did you really Ernie? Don’t sell yourself short.”
Ernie rolled his eyes as Draco stretched. I must remember to thank McGonagall for rooming me with a surf instructor and a Quidditch captain, Luna reflected.
“Oh good.” Draco said. “The emotional tree is here.”
Luna nodded. “Ernie helped me.”
“Is that right?”
Ernie turned to face Draco. “Yes. Luna told me she needed me and my strong arms in her bedroom because she was excited to try out different positions.”
Draco laughed loudly. Gods, Luna thought. Ernie can even get Draco to relax.
“Ah,” Draco said, clapping a hand onto Ernie’s shoulder. “I can only imagine your disappointment when you saw the tree.”
Ernie nodded with playful resignation. What on Earth are they talking about? Luna wondered.
Behind her, she heard Hermione’s bedroom door softly brushing open as it swept over the thick carpet that covered the stone floors in the girls’ bedrooms. Draco straightened immediately. Luna turned to look at Hermione who was still bent over, pulling on her slippers, Crookshanks curling around her ankles.
“Good morning Hermione,” Luna called. “Fancy some breakfast?”
“Yes please, I’m starving,” Hermione replied. “I think I fell asleep during an essay on Ancient Runes last night. I had weird dreams with abstract lines dancing about, like wandering through a Kandinsky.”
“That sounds unpleasant,” Ernie commiserated, standing up. “I’ll put the kettle on.”
“Good morning Granger,” Malfoy said.
Luna watched as Hermione glanced over to him, her tone cool as she replied, “Run out of clothes, Malfoy?” Her eyes, Luna noticed, skated over his body a little longer than necessary considering the dismissive tone of her remark.
“No. Just wasn’t expecting an audience.” Draco turned to walk back to his room. “I’ll get a shirt.”
Hermione gathered Crookshanks and came to sit, cross-legged, next to Luna on the sofa, placing the ginger cat in her lap. He padded around, kneading the bottom of Hermione’s t-shirt while she stroked him until he found the right spot to settle down.
“What do you miss about home, Hermione?” Luna asked.
“What?” Hermione looked up from rubbing Crookshanks’ ears. She looks wary, Luna realized, already defensive, poor thing.
Luna smiled at her and reached over to pat Crookshanks on the head in greeting. “Ernie and I were just talking about home, about things we miss. He misses the family garden and Sunday lunches. I miss my Dad. What about you?”
“I miss…” Hermione looked down again and began to scratch under Crookshanks’ chin. “I miss…” She looked up at Draco as he wandered back into the lounge and sat down on the couch. “Can you miss everything?”
“Everything… how?” Draco asked.
Hermione rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t asking you Malfoy, I was thinking out loud.”
“Forgive me,” Draco said, “for imagining that your looking at me whilst talking might indicate the start of a conversation.”
“Oh no, forgive me Malfoy. I’m the fool.”
“What?”
“Not exceptional or special, just a fool. Isn’t that right?”
Draco winced. Apparently Hermione had not forgotten their argument. Nor his choice of words.
“No that’s not right—”
“Oh I’m terribly sorry but actually I think you’ll find I’m always right.”
Excellent, Draco thought. This is all going to shit in record time. “Granger, what do you want me to say?”
“Don’t bail on me now, Malfoy. Can’t you just look deep into my soul again to find the answers?”
“Granger, that’s not—”
“Draco,” Luna interjected, “you might want to apologize.”
“Absolutely not, Luna!” Hermione said, whipping her head back to look at Luna, nostrils flaring.
“Why not?!” Luna asked.
“The only thing more awful than listening to what he thinks of me would be listening to him lie about it to keep the peace!”
Draco saw Crookshanks bristle as Hermione huffed at Luna. Circe, he thought, no wonder her cat’s so feral, she’s always so bloody fierce.
“Listen Granger—” Draco began.
“Oh please don’t bother, Malfoy.” Hermione rolled her eyes with a sneer so dismissive that Draco’s resolve not to rise to the bait vanished in an instant.
“Oh fine.” Draco snapped. “Be the merry victim, enjoy yourself.”
Hermione looked back to Draco, her eyes narrow. “What did you say?”
“Draco—” Luna began, seeing the tiny fires in her roommates’ eyes beginning to rekindle all over again.
“I said enjoy being the victim.” Draco repeated.
“You think I like being the victim?” Hermione hissed more than asked.
Draco leaned forwards, his eyes fixed on Hermione’s. “I think you love being the victim if it means I’m the villain.”
Hermione scoffed and shook her head. “Don’t flatter yourself, Snake Boy.”
“Snake Boy?!” Draco exclaimed, “What… what does that make her,” he pointed at Luna, “Bird Girl?!”
Luna’s patience was beginning to wear thin, she had expected Draco to learn his lesson last time.
“Birds have been known to kill snakes, sometimes pecking out their eyes,” Luna said, looking at Draco with one eyebrow raised in a silent warning.
Draco was not interested in heeding it. “Gods, cheerful! Thanks Luna, be on her side!”
Luna huffed, “I’m not picking a side!”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Don’t be pathetic, Malfoy.”
“Right,” Draco answered, “like calling someone Snake Boy. Or Lion Girl in your case.” Damn, Draco thought, Lion Girl sounds a lot cooler than Snake Boy.
“Oh please!” Hermione replied, her eyes blazing. “I wish I was a Lion Girl, I wouldn’t have to put up with any of this!”
“Oh I don’t know,” Draco replied, his eyes narrowing, “a venomous snake could take down a lion.”
Hermione’s nostrils flared as she inhaled before hurling her answer at him. “And a lion could tear a snake apart!”
Hermione felt the pricking of tears. How dare her eyes betray her when she was so damned angry. She turned away from Draco. Over Luna’s shoulder, Ernie was returning from the kitchen. Kind, warm Ernie, no doubt about to ask her why she was crying, damn him. She looked to Luna and the pity she saw in her sweet face was the final straw. “It could claw a raven from the sky,” she roared at Luna. “It could rip a badger to pieces!”
“Hey!” Ernie countered, his eyes wide, “Steady on Hermione! Why does the badger have to die?!” He shook his head a little. “Ripped to pieces! What did I do?”
Hermione paused, stepping outside herself for a moment as she took in the scene: Draco, lips thin, his hand raking through his pale blond hair, sat hulking on the sofa; Luna, eyes wide, still in pyjamas, curled defensively around her tea cup; and Ernie, his sandy hair sleep-swept, carrying a large tray with teas and pastries and looking at Hermione like a… well like a badger who’d just stumbled upon a lion.
Hermione, unsure whether to yell, apologize or burst into tears, found herself quite unexpectedly beginning to laugh. Soft at first, it gathered and swelled as her tension finally released, rolling through her like an avalanche gathering snow. How on earth did she get here, Hermione wondered. Hardly awake, her chest already tight with stress, yelling at her roommates. Malfoy could wind her up just by breathing, no regrets there, but Luna and Ernie were now collateral damage and had done nothing to deserve it.
“I’m sorry. I’m really… I’m sorry Ernie.” Hermione took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. “I’m sorry about the badger.” She smiled and bit her lip. She was being ridiculous. But the rage inside her was giving way to… sadness. She felt her eyes tear up again and this time she had no desire to stop them.