Viridis Cum Laude

Hermione’s mind whirled as Snape questioned Weasley, awarding Slytherin 10 points when Theo answered the question clearly meant for her.  And as she remembered back to her reading while brainstorming her essay, it clicked.

“Professor, tell me it’s not true!” Hermione burst into Professor Snape’s office. He looked up, too stunned to sneer at her. 

“Miss Granger? What are you doing here?” he asked. 

“Professor Lupin. He’s a werewolf.” She waited for him to deny it.  He didn’t, he simply looked at her.  “Does anyone else know?” 

“I do not believe his condition was made known to the public, but most of the teachers are aware.” He paused, considering her, “I’ve been brewing his wolfsbane since September, he’s not a danger to you during the full moon.”  

Hermione didn’t miss the specification, and her eyes narrowed infinitesimally.  “I’d like to learn to brew it.” He stared at her. “Please?” She smiled sweetly at him, he in turn, rolled his eyes. 

“8 o’clock tomorrow night.” 

“Thank you Professor!” 

“Now get out.” And she exited the office, smiling to herself.

-

“Hermione!” Harry ran into the study room, startling her and Theo who had been pouring over their Runes translations.  

“What is it?” she asked, barely glancing up. 

“It’s Draco!” Her eyes snapped up.

“What happened?” she asked sharply. She failed to notice how Theo scooted his chair slightly further away at her tone.  

“He’s in the hospital wing,” she jumped up, throwing her books into her bag. “He was attacked by a hippogriff in class.” 

She followed Harry to the infirmary, muttering about incompetent teachers.  

She froze when she saw him lying on the cot.  He was pale and his arm was bloodied, being tended to by the matron, while Pansy fawned over him, smoothing his blankets.  

“Draco,” she said quietly.  His eyes opened at the sound, finding hers. 

“Hey Hermione.” He smiled weakly.  “Maybe you were right about Care of Magical Creatures.” 

She snorted, “And that was before we knew that an unqualified giant would be teaching.” He laughed, but winced when it jostled his arm.  Pansy frowned. 

“Draco,” she crooned, “does it hurt much? Let me help.” She grabbed a washcloth and began wiping his forehead. 

“Pans, I’m fine,” Draco tried to wave her off.  

“So err,” Hermione started, but was interrupted by Madam Pomfrey. “It’s only a scratch really. Nothing’s broken, I’ve cleaned the wound, but it’ll have to heal partially on its own since it was a magical creature,” she continued to dress the wound, “you may have a scar, but no lasting damage.” Pansy was now holding his hand.  

“Well, I’m glad you’ll be okay, but I have some runes to work on, so I’ll see you around okay?” She turned away from him. 

“Hermione,” he called, and she looked at him over her shoulder.  

“Yeah?” 

He paused, opening his mouth and closing it again. She started to turn back when he said, “Good luck with runes.” She nodded, and left the wing, trying to understand why she was so upset. 

That weekend, the notices for the first Hogsmeade weekend went up, and the excitement level rose for the older students.  Stories started flying about the legends of the Shrieking Shack, the wonders of butterbeer, and how great Zonko’s was. She had to be impressed with Zonko's marketing.  For the number of items that were banned at Hogwarts, they certainly had a strong hold on the students and their pranks. 

-

Hermione was working on her charms essay in the library with Blaise, which was odd.  He wasn’t usually one to slave away in the library, but here he was working on the same essay she was, which meant it wasn’t due until next week.  

“So, are you planning to go to Hogsmeade next weekend?” Blaise asked.  

“Yes, probably,” she said offhandedly, scratching out a line on her parchment. Oh how she longed for a pencil and the simplicity of erasers. 

“Oh cool,” and he went back to his essay.  Hermione rolled her eyes. It was quiet for several more minutes, then, “Did you maybe want to go with me?” she looked up at him.  He was staring fixedly at a spot of ink on her parchment.  

“Yes I’d like that.” At that, he looked up at her and grinned, she smiled back, and went back to her essay.  

When she got back to the common room Blaise was talking to Theo and Greg while Harry played chess with Vincent, but he waved to her as she passed through on the way to her dormitory.  Daphne and Tracey were waiting on her bed and pounced as soon as she walked through the door. 

“You’re going out with Blaise?” squealed Daphne. Hermione giggled, nodding. 

“He’s so dreamy!” cried Tracey.  “Do you think he asked you out because of that kiss over the summer?” Hermione hadn’t considered that, but it didn’t really make a difference. 

“I don’t know, but if it happens again, I won’t be too upset.” She turned scarlet. “He’s a really good kisser,” she whispered, and the girls dissolved into giggles on her bed.  

She met Blaise in the common room.  Daphne had convinced her to wear a new light blue sweater, and she had paired it with her favorite dark jeans and little brown booties with a small heel.  It was her first date, and Daphne, having absolutely zero experience herself, had read every article she could get her hands on, both Muggle and Magical to help her prepare. Blaise looked fit in his dark jeans and cream sweater.  

He smiled when he saw her, “Hermione you look incredible!” She grinned at him.  

“You two have fun now,” Theo called out smirking at them.  Hermione stuck her tongue out at him. 

“Yes let’s,” she said grabbing Blaise’s arm and marching him from the common room.  They made pleasant conversation about school and classes, having plenty to talk about since they were taking completely different electives.  Even though Blaise didn’t particularly care about school, he wasn’t dumb and was interested in hearing about Arithmancy, and since Magical Creatures had been rather boring after Draco had gotten attacked by the hipporiff, she could tell he might regret his choice in classes.  

“Did you want to try the Three Broomsticks? It’s the main pub down here and they have a special frozen butterbeer before the weather turns too cold!” Blaise explained excitedly.  Being already mid-October and pretty chilly out, a butterbeer sounded good.  She hadn’t had one since that party, and thinking about it made her cheeks flush.  

As they walked into the crowded main street of the village, Blaise took her hand, glancing shyly at her as he did, and it occurred to her that this might be his first date as well.  Blaise might talk a big game, but he was just as nervous as she was. 

They walked through the village hand-in-hand and entered the warm pub.  She spotted a booth near the window and slid in.  

“Would you like something to drink?” Blaise asked. 

“Just a butterbeer, please,” she answered, smiling up at him. 

Blaise brought back their drinks and they diverged into slightly awkward silence. 

“So,” he started, and she giggled.  

“It’s just me Blaise,” she sighed, “and I already know you’re not a bad snog so why don’t we just relax and have fun today?” 

He grinned at her, “You’re right, and you know, you’re not too bad yourself,” he winked.  She rolled her eyes.  

“So how’s the quidditch season looking this year?” she asked, at his disbelieving look she clarified, “I’m actually asking, so yes you’re allowed to talk about it.” She rolled her eyes at his grin.  As he rambled on about strategy and why the Tornados were going to win the Champions Cup this year, she found herself thinking about their potential.  He was handsome, well no he was fit, but semantics.  His family didn’t have direct ties to the Dark Lord, and his mother had some influence, even if her past was controversial.  She could maybe be happy with him.  She pushed the pesky thoughts of a certain hair clip to the back of her mind. 

They finished their drinks and headed back outside, popping into various shoppes along the street. She loved Scrivenshafts, aisles and aisles of luxury stationery, leatherbound journals of all sizes and paper weights. She fingered a handsome eagle owl quill, it was gorgeous but at the rate she wrote it wouldn’t be worth it.  As they left the shoppe Blaise handed her the quill with a grin.  

“Pretty girls should have pretty things,” he said with a wink.  She took it with a smile.  

“Thank you.” She took his proffered arm and let him lead her into Honeydukes, a sweet shoppe to rival any in London.  It had all the typical candies and sweets, but had things she’d never seen before.  Blood flavored lollipops and cockroach clusters, she shuddered. 

“Come on, the fudge is what you want anyway,” Blaise led her to a case with several different kinds of fudge that looked nothing short of mouthwatering.  They sampled each kind purchasing their favorites before heading back down the street.  

“Did you save Zonko’s for last on purpose?” she asked, teasing. 

“I won’t say I didn’t,” he laughed, “but I suppose that is the only place left.” 

He was wrong, there were still multiple places to see, but she was lying if she wasn’t a bit curious herself what the notorious joke shoppe had to offer. 

Blaise bought fanged frisbees, frogspawn, and a large bag of sugar quills.  The last one he passed her, and she took one out and popped it in her mouth, tracking his eyes as they flicked from hers to the quill resting against her bottom lip. She forced herself not to smirk at him.  

“Should we head back up to the castle? It’s nearly time for dinner,” she asked, taking his arm when he nodded. 

The Great Hall was packed with students coming in from their weekend excursion as they entered, finding seats next to Harry and Theo, who were in the midst of some bubble gum bubble blowing contest.  

“Oi! Zabini!” Malfoy called from down the table, where he sat with Greg, Vince, and to Hermione’s surprise Pansy.  “Enjoy blowing off your friends to go on a date the first weekend in Hogsmeade?” he smirked at her, eyes glinting as he let Pansy feed him a bit of turkey off his fork.  

She made a face at him as Blaise opened his mouth to retort.  But just then there was a loud, POP! 

She could feel something sticky and wet on her head, and she turned slowly to Theo who was sitting next to her, eyes fixed on the popped bubble still hanging from his mouth.  

“Hermione, I-,” Theo sputtered. 

Pansy shrieked with mirth, and she groaned.  

“Theo, I swear to Merlin if you just got an entire box of Drubles in my hair from a bubble blowing contest,” she leveled at him and he shrank on the bench.  

“Well you see, Potter wouldn’t agree to any other blowing contests.” 

She froze, letting his words wash over her before letting out a peal of laughter.  

“Trust me,” he deadpanned, “yours wasn’t the hair I was hoping to mess up this evening.” 

“I’m going to have Madam Pompfrey get rid of it,” she explained, chuckling as she swung her legs back over the bench and stood up. “I’ll grab something from the kitchens later,” she assured Blaise, bending to kiss him on the cheek as she left.  

A few hours later, her stomach started growling as she worked on charms, now with gum-free hair knotted on top of her head. She glanced around nervously, packing up her things haphazardly and slipping out of the common room. She crept down the corridors, pausing as she heard Professor Snape pass at the other end of the hall.  As she approached the painting of the fruit bowl, hiding the entrance to the kitchens, she froze. 

“Harry?” she called in a whisper. 

“Nope, try again,” came a muffled voice.  She rolled her eyes. 

“What do you want Draco?” she turned back, tickling the pear and pulling open the handle as it appeared.  

He pulled off the invisibility cloak, “Just thought I’d tag along on your little midnight adventure,” he paused, sneering, “unless you think your boyfriend would mind.” 

“Blaise isn’t my boyfriend.” 

“Funny you knew exactly who I was talking about then, isn’t it?” 

“Who else would you be talking about?” 

“Who else is there?” 

She let out an exasperated huff.  “Can’t this wait at least until after I’ve eaten?” She turned to the house elves who had gathered around them. “Hello, is it possible to get a small plate left from dinner? I’m afraid I missed most of it.” The little elves bobbed and bowed around them, and 30 seconds later she had a plate of shepherd’s pie, a goblet of pumpkin juice, and a small bowl of cinnamon ice cream. 

She took a seat at a table one of the elves had set up, digging in with vigor as her stomach let out another groan of hunger.  

She ate in silence for a few minutes until, “So he’s not your boyfriend?” Draco asked quietly, staring fixedly at her ice cream.  

“I don’t know Draco, we haven’t really talked about it.  We went on one date,” she stabbed a carrot as if for emphasis.  

He scowled, but she carried on before he could respond, “Aren’t you dating Pansy anyway? Why do you care?” 

He glared at her, and she held his gaze, raising one eyebrow slightly in challenge.  “I’m not dating Pansy, and I don’t care.  I just don’t want to see you get hurt, Blaise has a reputation-” 

“Oh, he does not. He’s not even 14 yet, and I know he’s done nothing more than snog,” she said matter of factly. 

Draco’s scowl darkened, “And how would you know that?” She flushed, avoiding his gaze.  She pushed away from the table, thanking the elves for their extra effort and assuring them that though she’d not quite finished the meal, the food was excellent per usual.  

They walked back together in silence until Draco turned to her suddenly outside the portrait hall.  “Just don’t be a slag.” 

She gasped, furious. 

“How dare -” 

“Do what you want, but that’s what people will say you are and you know it.” 

She wasn’t even aware she was doing it.  And then Draco was clutching his face and her hand was screaming in pain.  She had punched him, and judging by her finger’s odd placement, fractured at least one of her knuckles. 

“Don’t you ever call me, or anyone else for that matter, a slag!” She was screaming now, and she didn’t care. “Especially the way you carry on with her.” And she slammed the entrance to the common room shut.