Pride and Polyjuice Potion

Chapter 28

Aided only by her lumos, Hermione Granger once again made her late night return to the Gryffindor Tower through the dark, winding corridors and narrow staircases of the castle. It was slightly unnerving to her just how much of a common occurrence these evening escapades had become.

The black cotton dress shirt fell just around her mid thigh and the cuffed sleeves hung just passed her wrists. It smelled just like him.

Saline tears, burnt mahogany and fresh leather.

Memories of the events that had happened prior to the November Holidays brought her a little wave of joy and nostalgia. How naive and innocent she had been back then. But how narrow-minded and prejudiced too.

Her pace was hindered slightly by the great fluffy mass of faux fur that adorned her feet. They seemed belonging of another time, but she was unwilling to let go of them. If they tried to slip off her feet, she increased her grip two-fold.

It had been strange when he had kicked them off her feet. But she did not stop him.

After the expected eight minute walk, Hermione found herself outside the entrance to the Gryffindor Common Room. Once she had looked either side of her, she muttered the password under her breath and tiptoed quietly through the portrait hole.

"Hermione, is that you?" asked Harry, holding his glowing wand up to her face.

Shit.

"Harry, goodness!" she exclaimed, panting heavily and pressing her hand to her chest. "You scared me."

"Oh thank goodness you're back. I was getting so worried. You were gone for ages. Your textbook must have been really hidden."

"My what?"

"Your textbook," he said slowly. "You know, the one you went out to look for?"

"Oh, right, yes, of course," she lied, ending up getting a little carried away within her lie. She thought it might add a touch of authenticity. "It was actually too well hidden, because I ended up not being able to find it, which is why I was out for so long. I only gave up after an endless search, and even then I couldn't quite bring myself to give up looking for it."

"Typical Hermione," he joked, rolling his eyes. "When she does something, it is of paramount importance that she does it well."

His sarcasm earned him a light, jocular punch on the arm.

"But on a serious note, I'm terribly sorry to have worried you, Harry. I swear to you that it was not my intention at all," she said, giving Harry's free hand a squeeze. "Not to mention that you ought be in bed or you won't be able to wake up tomorrow for early morning Quidditch practice."

"You are clearly underestimating Oliver Wood's dedication to making sure everybody, including Ron, gets out of bed on time for Quidditch," he laughed. "But, please don't worry about keeping me up, Mione. With everything that's going on at the moment, I had to make sure."

It struck her then. While she was fraternising - to put it very euphemistically - with the enemy, Harry had been worried out of his mind that something bad might have happened to Hermione. Death eaters killing muggle-borns type of bad.

"No, I really am sorry, I shouldn't have stayed out so long," she replied sincerely. "Come on, let's go to bed now."

Harry nodded, said Goodnight and was in the process of turning around when his lumos lowered from her face down to her body.

"Strange," he remarked. "I could have sworn you were wearing that grey T-shirt you always have on. I must be going mad."

"Oh, no, I lost that a little while ago," she replied, which wasn't necessarily a lie.

"You've been losing quite a few things lately, Mione," he added. "But I suppose with everything going on that's perfectly understandable. Your mind's elsewhere. So is everyone's, I think, for one reason or another."

"Oh, yes, absolutely," she replied quickly. "Well, goodnight then."

In such a desperate rush to sprint upstairs, climb into bed and sleep her embarrassment away into the night, she darted from Harry without another word, leaving him perhaps a little confused.

Much to her relief, Luna was fast asleep when Hermione climbed into bed alongside her. She took in deep breaths, her chest rising up to a peak before collapsing as she exhaled: both air and a few random words. They were a little incoherent and Hermione could not make out most of them, although she was quite certain she had heard her mumble Blaise's name.

~

It was dark and silent when Hermione woke up the next morning, save an ear-splitting shriek that escaped her which startled almost all her poor dorm mates.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Ginny groaned through her pillow.

"It's six in the bloody morning," added Padma sluggishly.

Parvati was still sound asleep, snoring a little. Luna looked up at her with sleepy eyes, said nothing, and dozed off again, returning to her strange little mumbles.

"Sorry," she replied in embarrassment. "I don't know what came over me."

Padma rolled over, facing away from Hermione and covered the side of her head with her pillow. Ginny's replied by raising her middle finger up into the air. It was was the only part of her body not fully covered by the thick blankets she was enveloped in.

What Hermione had said had, of course, been a load of bollocks, as was to be expected of this new rather deceptive version of herself. While she did not like her newfound insincerity, she knew that it could not be helped for the time being.

In reality, she had remembered that she had Divination with Professor Trelawney that day, second period. Her hatred for the class was only exacerbated by the previous night's events.

To make matters worse, her first lesson of the day was Potions with Professor Snape, where she would have to once again sit next to Pansy Parkinson. A truly excellent morning.

She pulled herself out of bed and made her way to the Girls' bathroom where she hopped in the shower, scrubbing her body with more than usual vigour, as if there was additional filth she had to wipe away. She hated that she felt that way. Sex wasn't supposed to make people feel that way.

It was a beautiful moment between them, and she hated that she had to shrug off the little whispers that told her she was no more than a worthless harlot. That Malfoy was only using her.

She tried to shake away the thoughts, knowing that these insecurities she had were one of her character traits she hated the most. Why did she always have to feel insufficient and insecure? Why couldn't she be confident like Ginny? Carefree like Luna? Tough like Parvati? Forgiving like Padma?

The steaming water almost scalded her skin as she scrubbed her body and her hair, hoping to somehow tame its wildness. Droplets of condensation were now building up on the shower door, clinging helplessly onto the frame. They would all disappear if she wiped them away. One day, she would.

After quickly drying herself off with the hot air charm, she wrapped herself in a white towel and made her way over to the sink where she began to dry her hair using a muggle hairbrush and the same charm. She wished she had somehow been able to smuggle in a muggle hairdryer but muggle electronic products didn't work in Hogwarts.

She pulled out her toiletries bag to grab her toothbrush and accidentally grabbed a tube of muggle mascara. The last time she had used it was the the night of the September Formal. She had tried putting it on, but remembered immediately wiping it off. She had felt stupid.

Temptation seized her as she held the tube in her hands. She unscrewed the lid and pulled out the applicator, lifting it to her eyes. The black product had smeared a little on her eyelid and the bridge of her nose but it disappeared with a tap of her wand.

She looked up at herself in the mirror, like she had yesterday evening, and she saw herself as he saw her.

For perhaps the first time in her life, she identified a potentiality for corruption in her reflection - in herself - that made her body shudder with disbelief.