To Catch Two Birds
“Achoo!” I sneezed. I could practically see the dust particles floating in the air. It seemed as though very few of the students liked to frequent the library. Many of the books looked as if they hadn’t been touched for decades, their covers grey with the fluffy powder that had collected over the years. I knew she’d be here though. I couldn’t imagine any other place she’d rather be.
Passing through the rows of bookshelves in the Hogwarts library, I finally caught sight of her at one of the small desks, reading over some of the old covers. She’d swept away all the dust, creating a circle of grey on the floor around her feet. One of the lamps had been lit above her, casting a dim yellow glow over her small figure as she studied. I stood and observed the scene for a moment, peering through the gap in one of the shelves. I was almost hesitant to disturb her peace.
“Mind if I join you?” I asked, slowly creeping out from behind the bookshelf that I had spotted her from.
She startled, nearly falling off her chair as her head swivelled in the direction of my voice. “Don’t scare me like that!” she hissed, keeping her voice low as to avoid attracting the attention of the school’s librarian. I had heard that the woman was a ‘real piece of work’, whatever that meant.
“If I had screamed, we’d both be banned from the library,” she continued with a huff, pouting as she crossed her arms.
“I apologise for startling you; it was not my intention.”
“Whatever.” She turned back to her books. “Did you need something?”
I sighed. Well, that was blunt. It would be difficult to become her friend if she’d already decided to dislike me. A growing rivalry was not ideal grounds for a budding friendship. Not if it watered the seeds of jealousy planted in her mind from class, turning what should have been friendly competition into an all-or-nothing power struggle. In other words, bitter hatred. I could not allow that to happen.
“Actually, yes. I am here for that favour you owe me.”
Hermione gritted her teeth as she slowly closed her book. Turning to face me once again, she stood, slightly craning her neck to look me in the eyes as she assessed me. “Thought of one already, have you?”
I shifted on my feet. “Actually, I have been wanting to ask this for a while. The favour just gave me the opportunity.” I walked past her as I spoke, taking a seat in the unoccupied chair next to the one she had been sitting in. “I was wondering if you would tutor me?”
The brunette girl’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. I could almost see the wheels turning in her head. “Tutor you? You want me, to tutor you?”
“Yes.”
“What on earth could you need tutoring for? I thought you said you’d been studying magic for years.”
“That is true, which is why I am not asking for help with my magical studies.”
Hermione moved back towards the desk, plopping down onto the seat next to me as she toyed with a bushy brown strand of her hair. “Then what do you need my help with?” Her voice was curious, albeit a little suspicious. She seemed almost hesitant to ask for my answer. Why was that?
“Well, I was hoping we could, what is the phrase… catch two birds with one stone?”
“Kill.”
“What?”
“It’s, ‘kill two birds with one stone’,” she corrected.
“Why in Merlin’s name would that be a saying!” I whisper-yelled in horror, my hands reaching up to cover my mouth. “That is barbaric!”
Hermione’s mouth twitched, slightly turning up into a small smirk which she quickly tried to suppress. “It is a bit, isn’t it.”
Attempting to recover from my shock I forced my face into a neutral expression and waved a hand dismissively. The last thing I needed was to digress from the reason I came to speak with the girl. Not only did I genuinely want to become friends with her, but I desperately wanted, no, needed to prove Theodore wrong. I would not lose to him. Not when I had already challenged his beliefs to his face. I never took a bet unless I knew I would win, my pride would never allow it.
“Well, anyway,” I continued lightly, I was hoping you would help me to improve my British accent. You see, whenever I change schools, I always have difficulty getting people to understand me, even if I am fluent in the language. Dialect also presents a challenge, but I am sure that I will be able to pick that up from the Slytherins.”
“If you can learn from the Slytherins, why do you need my help?”
“That would be because of the second bird.” Hermione rose a brow as I leaned in towards her. She leant back in response, keeping as much distance between us as she could. “Tell me, Hermione, are you a blood purist?”
“No of course not! I’m a Muggle-born!” she exclaimed, looking quite insulted at the thought. Her eyes widened as she quickly realised the volume at which she spoke, worried that someone might have heard her. She shot out of her seat and went to peer around the bookcases to make sure we were not going to be in trouble for her outburst.
Letting out a breath of relief when no one came to scold us, she came back to sit on her chair, crossing her legs as she sunk down on the flowery cushion.
When she was comfortable again, I decided to continue. “Well, I have heard that a lot of the Slytherins are, and I have developed a keen interest in learning more about Muggles. I am sure you can see the problem.”
“But why not read about them? Or ask the Muggle Studies Professor? I’m sure you could learn plenty from them.”
“Not as much as you would think, unfortunately. Most classes I have had and books I have read on the subject seem… well, rudimentary and a little inaccurate. I was hoping, since you grew up with them, as one of them, you could teach me about them and, at the same time, help me work on my accent.”
Hermione looked deep in thought for a moment. I began to worry that she would not want to help me. Oh no! What if when I said that she had grown up a Muggle, she had taken offence? Did she think that I looked down on Muggles? How could I be so stupid? Merlin, I would have to look for another Muggle-born if that was the case. But she was so perfect! We would get on so well, I know we would. If only I—
“Ok, I’ll be your stone.”
“What?” It took me a second to realise what she meant. “Wait, really?” I began to smile, unable to contain my surprise and joy.
“Yes. I do owe you a favour after all. Plus, I think we could learn a lot from each other.”
“That’s fantastic Hermione! Thank you so much.” I glanced out at the courtyard through the latticed windows, finally realising how late it had gotten. It had become quite dark, to the point where almost all the shadows had begun to melt into the landscape like a watercolour painting. “Is it that late already?” I said to myself. Turning back to Hermione, I began to rise from my chair. “I should start heading back to my common room, I do not want to be out after curfew. Would you like to meet here again tomorrow?”
“Yes. We can head here after lunch. I’ll see you tomorrow I guess.”
“Definitely. Oh, and Hermione?”
“Mmmm.”
“I am sorry about earlier; when I lied about my parentage.”
“You don’t need to apologise.” She stood up as well, grabbing her books and placing them in her leather bag. “I’m the one in the wrong. You didn’t lie to me; you just never told me who you were. I can’t blame you for that.”
“Omission can still be a form of lying. You deserved to hear the truth from me, not the hat.”
“Maybe so, but I can see why you didn’t want to tell anyone.”
“I just do not like all the attention. I hate how people fawn over me just because I lived when everyone believed I would die. I did nothing to deserve the praise or the thanks.” I frowned, turning towards one of the bookcases to brush off the dust that had collected. “When I lived in Africa, things were not so bad. Vol… I mean You-Know-Who was more prominent in Europe anyway. I still stuck out, that has not changed. But it was in a good way. A normal way. Now that I am here though, I find myself wanting to disappear, to blend into the crowd a little better—”
“Like through learning a common accent.”
I smiled softly. “Precisely. I am lucky to have Harry here with me. Because of him, people tend to overlook me more. Without him, I would have all the attention. The good, the undeserved, and the unwanted.”
Hermione placed a hand on my shoulder, causing me to look up at her from where I had hung my head. “Well, if you’re apologising to me, I should also apologise. I must admit I was hurt at first when I found out who you were. But that’s not why I was so cold to you earlier.” She sighed. “I guess I was really just jealous.” This time Hermione was the one to hang her head. “In class, you seemed so advanced. You knew the answer to every question, knew magic that we weren’t supposed to learn for years. I thought you were a bit of a show-off, to be honest. It never crossed my mind that you were just trying to fit in, to make friends. I realise now that in Snape’s class, you were targeted. And when you asked for harder questions, you weren’t showing off. You were only trying to protect Harry from further embarrassment.” Copying her movement from earlier, I put my hand on her shoulder. She looked up at me, and I saw small tears forming in the corner of her eyes. “I judged you, even though you had been so kind and helpful to me on the train. I’m so sorry.”
“I forgive you, Hermione, and if you can forgive me, we can let it be water under the well.”
She laughed softly. “I’d love that. But it’s bridge, by the way. Water under the bridge.”
“Water under the bridge.”
I ran all the way to the dungeons, worried that if I was out too late, I would be caught by Filch and his cat. The corridors were all empty, and I could hear the echo of my footsteps ricocheting off the stone walls, giving me the unnerving feeling that someone was chasing after me. I was being too loud, but it was not past curfew yet.
Bursting into the common room and letting out a sigh, I slumped against the entrance, feeling the roughness of the cold stone press against my back. Still breathing heavily, a sign of relief escaped my lips. I would not be doing that again.
“Cutting it a little close, aren’t you?”
Theodore.
I bit my cheek, not in the mood to rile him up. Instead of responding to his comment, I ignored him, walking past where he was stretched out on one of the green leather sofas that adorned our common room. He had been reading I noticed. His book, now discarded beside him, was lying open and I could see images of potion ingredients out of the corner of my eye.
“Pansy was looking for you.” I stopped. “She and some of the guys searched for you after dinner but couldn’t find you. I’m curious.” I could feel his pretentious smirk on my back. “What, or rather who was so important that you risked punishment from Filch?”
He was goading me. Trying to irritate me enough so that I would quickly think up a favour just to shut him up. I was not going to bite. A favour from him was too precious to waste. I would likely never get one again. I turned around, walking back up to him and resting my arms on the back of the sofa as I looked down at him, smiling. “If you are trying to annoy me, you are going about it all wrong.”
He scoffed, lifting his brows in amusement. “Is that so?”
“That tactic might work for Mattheo and Draco and the rest of them.” I leant down close to him, close enough to feel his breath glide past my cheek. “But I am afraid you will find that I am not so easily provoked.”
“I—"
“Astrid! You’re back!” Pansy came running at me, shortly followed by the other boys in Theodore’s group. They walked casually towards us though, not exhibiting the same level of enthusiasm as the midnight-haired witch barrelling towards me.
“Where have you been?” she said shrilly, grabbing me by the shoulders and shaking me like a tree caught in the wind.
“Woah Pansy,” I said, grabbing her arms to stop her movements. “Relax.” She glared at me, crossing her arms, and tapping her foot as she waited for an explanation. I was suddenly reminded of my mother.
“I was only in the library speaking to Hermione.”
“Hermione? The Mudblood from Gryffindor? Why on earth would you want to talk to her,” sniffed Draco pompously.
I pivoted towards him, my eyes narrowing into as small slits as I could make them. “I do not much care for that term.”
“And what’re you gonna do about it?” he smirked. I could see Tom perk up a bit in slight interest from where he had taken a seat on one of the armchairs. He looked as if he were waiting for a show. Well, he was going to get one.
“Draco…” warned Enzo.
I slowly began to approach him, staring him directly in the eyes as I took my time, savouring the moment he stepped back when I finally reached him. I could have sworn I saw him pale for a second. I had not thought his skin could get any lighter. I took one last step towards him, backing him against the wall. “I promise you,” I said lowly. “That you do not wish to find out. Consider this a warning. Never, demean the muggle-borns in front of me.” Draco gulped as I stepped back.
“Why are you so keen to defend them?” asked Theodore, who had barely moved since I had entered the common room.
“Why are you so keen to belittle them?” I countered.
He ignored me. “I mean, I’d understand it if you were one of them, or had grown up amongst them. But you're not. You barely even know the people you’re defending.”
“And that means I am not to defend them?”
Theodore got up and lazily sauntered over to where I was standing. “You can’t defend something you don’t understand.”
I looked him in the eye. “It does not make what you are doing right.”
“Then who defends us?”
“You are Purebloods. You do not need defending.”
“Don’t we?”
“I—” I paused, remembering what Enzo had said before the sorting. ‘We’re all raised by some pretty pretentious people. It’s kinda hard to escape that.’
Theodore smirked. “Give it time. Perhaps you’ll see not everything is black or white.” He then walked away, leaving me flushed in embarrassment. He won this time.
Entering the Great Hall the next morning, I decided to greet my brother and his friends at the Gryffindor table. Walking past the delicious scents of buttered toast and crispy bacon, I eventually found them sitting near Neville and Seamus, close to the front of the hall where the professors sat. They were gathered around a newspaper and Harry was reading aloud.
“Somebody broke into Gringotts. Listen. ‘Believed to be the work of Dark Wizards or Witches, Gringotts Goblins acknowledge the breach but insist nothing was taken. The vault in question, number seven-hundred and thirteen, had been emptied earlier that same day.’ That’s odd. That’s the vault Hagrid, Astrid and I went to.
“I wonder what was in there that would be valuable enough to risk stealing?” I said from behind them.
The boys jumped whilst Hermione, who had seen me approach them, waved in greeting.
“Bloody hell,” said Ron with a slightly annoyed expression. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be over with the Slytherins?”
“Can I not come to visit my brother?” I placed my hand on Harry’s shoulder, and he accidently spit out some of his pumpkin juice.
“Sorry,” he said with a small smile. “I’m not used to that.”
As he wiped his mouth, I gave his shoulder a light squeeze before dropping my hand, an apologetic smile on my face. “So, what do you guys think was in the vault?”
Hermione straightened up as if about to speak, but Ron stopped her. “Should we really be discussing this with her?” he said. Lowering his voice to a whisper he continued, “She’s a Slytherin.”
I heard him.
“What difference does that make?” asked Hermione.
“Uh, does the name Draco Malfoy ring a bell? They’re bullies.”
I had heard enough of him talking as if I wasn’t there. Especially because he was judging me by my house. At that moment, I thought him no better than Draco, who judged Hermione based on her blood status, who judged him by his wealth. Huh, maybe Theodore was right. Maybe they did deserve to be defended. Not for their blood, but for their house. Our house. We were not bad people. Not all of us. Not that I would give him the satisfaction of hearing me admit it.
“You know Ron, you are beginning to sound just like Draco.” Ron gaped at me as I turned my attention to Hermione and my brother. “I will see the two of you later. Enjoy your breakfast.”
“Astrid—”
“It is alright Hermione. I know when I am not wanted. I will see you later.” I turned and began to make my way towards the Slytherin table, but not before glancing back and watching Hermione smack Ron with her book.