Triangulate

After her kiss with McLaggen, Hermione could not wait to get out of the Great Hall. After McLaggen left, winking at her playfully, the only people who were not openly staring where her three friends, looking anywhere but at her.

Ginny cleared her throat to break the pregnant pause, saying “Uhm, anyway…” Her warm brown eyes met Hermione’s as she flashed what she must have intended to be an encouraging smile. Her attitude only served to highlight the boys’; Ron pretended to be immersed in his studies while Harry was staring to the side, determinedly ignoring her, his jaw taut and his eyes flashing with anger.

Hermione’s heart sank. This surely wasn’t because of her? Did he dislike McLaggen so much? Well, perhaps he could communicate it, tell her why… then this flare-up of self-righteous indignation gave way to reason. They were friends; if he couldn’t or refused to volunteer his feelings, perhaps she could kindly inquire about them.

“Harry… is everything OK?”

Harry’s enticing green eyes flashed as he finally looked at her. The venom in his eyes was like a stab in the heart.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” he snapped, eating.

He had never looked more beautiful.

Hermione swallowed hard, averting her gaze; her emotions were taking on such proportions with everything that had happened, she was afraid she could not conceal them anymore. And how embarrassing to be pining after someone who clearly didn’t think of you that way…

“I… you just – McLaggen –“

“Hermione is right,” Ginny said softly, touching Harry’s arm tentatively. He shrugged it off. Ron didn’t notice, otherwise he’d surely have remarked upon how rude it was.

Seeing Hermione’s aghast expression, Harry’s face softened as he turned to Ginny, “I’m sorry,” he said taking her hand, flashing a smile at his girlfriend. When he turned to Hermione, his eyes were defiant despite his smile, and his tone, Hermione thought, was dripping with malice. “And I don’t mind who Hermione dates. It’s her call. But I don’t want you turning McLaggen’s head. It’s our last year, and we definitely need to win the House Cup. If we lose that after vanquishing Voldemort, we’ll officially go down as the most pathetic group of Gryffindors to ever exist.”

Hermione laughed, despite herself. She felt relief mingle with acerbic disappointment. Was that it… his sole reason for disapproving of her dalliance with McLaggen? Nothing… further? Oh, how her silly heart hoped. Of course not; he was in love with Ginny, her amazing best friend who had come to her rescue in the face of his wrath. How pathetic of her to love someone that belonged with her. Even if she had met him first. Even if by the time Ginny had met Harry, she’d already fallen for him. Despite everything. It was quite silly. Not befitting of such a smart girl, her parents would say.

Alas… she had done many things not befitting of such a smart girl, as of late. Looking at McLaggen, she was afraid she was about to do many, many more.

He was perhaps an insufferable jerk, but he was the only one with whom she could forget about Harry, if only momentarily. It was still better than nothing. It was infinitely superior to the agony she was feeling now; it was as though her skin was being prickled by a thousand needles, as though she were underwater with her lungs compressed, heaving for a breath.

He finally noticed her staring and grinned at her. He looked angelic in the morning light coming through the invisible ceiling. If only it weren’t for his personality…

Oh, yes. They were about to do many, many things not befitting of a girl as smart as she was.

The next week, Hermione and McLaggen fell into a rhythm. After finishing her studies in the library, they would meet up in the Astronomy Tower and just kiss for hours. Then, the week after, he would start to ask questions about her life when they came up for air. It was as though he was trying to slowly get close to her, and Hermione wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

Hermione tried to be patient with him, put up with his attempts at conversation to get what she really wanted out of him, which was kissing. But on one particular night when he’d asked his hundredth question without offering a single kiss in between, Hermione got mad.

“What are your parents like? You never told me about them,” McLaggen said. “I know we did this in sixth year, but so much has happened since, and I’m quite ashamed –“

“Don’t talk so much, McLaggen,” Hermione said before climbing on top of him and pressing her lips against his.

McLaggen pushed him away gently, but his brown eyes sparkled with irritation. “Can’t you call me Cormac? You’ve known me for years now and we have been going out –“

“Going out?”

“Alright, meeting up for like almost two weeks now.”

“I’m fine with McLaggen.”

“I’m not,” McLaggen said, sitting up.

Hermione got off him, ashamed. “Fine,” she sighed. “Cormac it is, then.”

“I love that,” McLaggen said, lighting up like a Christmas tree before diving in for another kiss.

Hermione felt she’d debased herself for his ministrations by giving into his demand at emotional proximity. Yet she could not let go of the sweet, sweet sensations he gave. He was her drug that kept her from facing the terrible reality that the love of her life was in love with someone else, and all she could do was watch and smile, pretending to be happy for him and her best friend.

On the Thursday before their Hogsmeade outing, Hermione was studying in the library (she’d have rather been anywhere else than at the Ravenclaw party her friends had gone to, having to watch Harry and Ginny and Ron and Lav-Lav make out) when a silhouette appeared in the doorframe. She looked up and saw him. She burst into a heartfelt grin.

“Mind if I sit?” Cormac asked, already putting his books down.

I suppose he can’t have completely changed, Hermione thought humorlessly. He’s still quite forward.

“Sure,” Hermione said, glad despite herself for the companionship. She’d been beginning to feel lonely, always skipping outings because she was tired of being the only single person in her friend group. Her and Ron and Harry barely hung out just the three of them anymore. She missed those times. “You aren’t going to the party, then?”

“What’s the point?” Cormac asked. “You’re not going to be there.”

Hermione felt herself blush. Her entire body suddenly felt warm and fuzzy. “Oh, you,” she sighed. “You’re quite the charmer.”

Cormac sat up in his seat at the compliment. “You think so?”

“Yeah, you should write poetry. You always know just the right thing to say.”

“Has anyone ever written poetry for you before?” McLaggen asked.

Hermione shook her head, grimacing. “No,” she said. “Never dated anyone, either. Managed to help defeat Voldemort though before I finally got myself a steady boyfriend.”

Cormac laughed. “You’re funny.”

“Thank you. You’re the only one other than McGonagall to enjoy my wit.”

Cormac smiled, “I doubt that.”

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Hermione said, raising a book to hide her face behind.

“Like what? I’m just looking at you,” Cormac said, his eyes burning with intensity, as though she were the only woman in the universe.

Hermione peered out from behind her book, blinking.

“Alright, let’s study,” Cormac said, opening his own book, accepting defeat.

Madame Prince sushed them loudly.

“There’s no one else here!” Cormac snapped, only to be shushed again.

Hermione was struggling to contain her mirth. She found herself enjoying his company more than her own. He was competing with her solitude and winning. Who would’ve thought, two years ago, when they’d first truly met.

Cormac, as it turned out, was the only other person who could study for hours in the library in silence. Hermione found herself staring at him, smiling, enjoying how adorable he looked poring over his books, taking notes and writing his homework.

When Cormac looked up, catching her staring with that look on her face, she knew she was in trouble.

Now they both knew what she could barely put into words, and she had no idea what he was going to do with this information. The mischievous tingle in his brown eyes hadn’t changed throughout the years.

The entire day on the Friday preceding the Hogsmeade outing, McLaggen kept staring at her, trying to catch her eye. He was beginning to distract her from her studies. Her obsession with Harry had driven her to seek solace in books even more than she usually did, but Cormac was showing her a whole new world.

It felt… exhilarating to pass notes in class, careful not to be caught by the teacher. The things he wrote her in class about how beautiful she’d looked and how he couldn’t wait for Hogsmeade were like ointment to her wounded heart. And the fact that everyone was staring? Somehow, that felt exhilarating too; exploring other facets of her personality and others being aware of it.

“I told you not to distract him,” Harry whispered to her, leaning forward. “We have our first big game in two weeks.”

When Hermione looked back, he was holding Ginny’s hand under the table.

Overrun with emotion, Hermione said, “He’ll perform better for me. Don’t worry.”

“I sure hope so…” Harry said, leaning back and looking at Cormac. Cormac flashed him a grin before passing Hermione another note in class.

This time, Professor Stonem, the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher noticed. He caught it mid-air as he was walking among the rows of desks, talking about something Hermione genuinely had no idea about, perhaps for the first time in her school career.

“Granger, McLaggen,” Stonem said disappointedly, seeing their faces. “Now what could be so important that…?” He unfurled the piece of parchment and went red as he read it, before bursting into good-natured laughter. “McLaggen’s poetry could use some work, but I’ll let you be the judge of it,” he said, making the entire class laugh before handing her the piece of parchment.

Hermione’s heart began to beat, and blood rushed to her cheeks as she read it.

Your beauty is beyond compare,

To approach you, I almost did not dare,

Afraid that my feelings you would not spare,

That for a boy like me you would not care.

How it started years ago does not matter;

All that counts is how you already make my life better.

My fears my emotions fetter.

Will you accept this love letter?

I will not commit the same mistakes again;

All that I have seen since has made me a better man.

And now that I’ve come out of my lion’s den,

I’ll ask the only question a man like me can:

Will you be my girlfriend? :)

Hermione laughed. “Yes,” she said, nodding gladly. What was she supposed to do? How would her life improve if she said no? The poem was… interesting, but the intent counted more to her than the delivery.

Ron grabbed the letter from her hand and read it, laughing. “You’re such a fucking tool, McLaggen,” he said.

“Are you saying yes?” Cormac asked.

Hermione nodded, eyes sparkling, laughing.

“She said yes!” Cormac cried, unbothered.

The teacher clapped. “Now that’s been settled, could we get back to class, please?” he asked. “Also, ten points from each of you for passing notes in class.”

Jubilation gave way to disappointment; others groaned but Cormac and Hermione continued to grin, even if Hermione’s heart prickled at the consequences of her actions.

“Good job,” Harry said, “Keep it up and we might lose the House and the Quidditch Cup.”

Ron turned towards him, snapping, “Leave her alone, man. She’s just doing what you and Ginny have been doing since the start of this year.”

“I wasn’t doing it this ostensibly –“ Harry insisted.

“Harry, please –“ Ginny said.

“What, I’m right!” Harry said.

“Alright, I see that corner over there cannot remain silent for the life of them,” Professor Stonem said, “Five points from each of you. Now, unless you want me to reseat you…?”

“No, no,” Ginny said. “We’ll be good, Professor.”

“You’re not being yourself, Hermione,” Ginny said after class, as they were sitting by the Great Lake, just the two of them. “Harry’s very upset. He doesn’t think McLaggen’s good for you.”

“I think he’s good for me,” Hermione said. “We’re boyfriend and girlfriend now.”

“Yeah, I still can’t believe that,” Ginny said, snorting. “You hated him two years ago.”

Hermione shrugged. “Things change.”

“But did he?”

“I think so,” Hermione said.

“I hope he’s not just pretending to get what he wants to, out of you,” Ginny said, her eyes soft with compassion. “I hope he’s really different.”

“I think the war changed us all.”

“The war made us more of who we were,” Ginny said. “I just hope it all turns out alright, Hermione. You deserve the best. You’ve been feeling very sad lately. Yes, I’ve noticed. I didn’t press the issue because I didn’t think you wanted me to. Hermione… who are you trying to distract yourself from with McLaggen this time around?”

Hermione’s heart skipped a beat as she wrecked her brain for a response…