Dark Pasts { A Harry Potter Story }

Chapter 20 - Snape and Karkaroff

I glared at Ron before running after Hermione, only stopping as Krum stood in my way.

"Vare is Herm-own-ninny?" he asked.

"She — er — went to the loo," I said hastily.

"Veil, if you see her, tell her I haff drinks," he said, holding up said drinks.

"Will do," I told him before walking out of the Great Hall.

It didn't take me long to find her. She was sitting at the bottom of the marble staircase and — I felt a tug at my heart — she was crying.

"Ronald Weasley you git," I muttered under my breath before going to sit next to her.

I didn't what to say to her. Not only did I have no experience whatsoever with heartbreak, but it was almost disconcerting to see Hermione so distraught. She usually didn't care what people thought of her, or in one of the rare cases where she had had enough, she had punched Draco straight in the face, not dissolved into tears.

"Mione?" I said tentatively.

When she looked up to me, her eyes red and puffy, I could think of nothing to say, so I simply opened my arms. She took refuge inside my embrace, and I was glad to see she seemed to be recovering as her crying slowed down.

"Krum's waiting for you," I said. "He said he got drinks."

She huffed. "Ron ruined everything."

"No, he didn't," I said, receiving an incredulous look from her. "Yeah, he's a git, but he didn't ruin everything. The evening's not over. Go back in there, forget about what he said and have fun with Krum. For me."

Hermione sighed. "Oh, alright, alright," she sniffed. "You're right. How do I look?"

I smiled as I wiped a runaway tear on her cheeks. "More beautiful than ever."

She hugged me one more time before disappearing into the Great Hall. Standing up, I was surprised to see Harry and Ron also making their way back into the hall, though I had not noticed them walking out of it.

"Hey, what's up?" I said, noting the weird expression on Ron's face.

Ron merely looked to Harry, as though wondering whether or not he was allowed to tell me.

Harry shrugged. "Dunno, we overheard Hagrid telling Madame Maxime he's half-giant."

I gaped at him.

"So what?" Harry said with another shrug.

"We'll explain," Ron said, leading him into the Great Hall, "c'mon. . . ."

As we walked toward an empty table, I was glad to see that Hermione was once more dancing with Krum, a smile on her face.

"So?" Harry said once we sat down. "What's the problem with giants?"

"Well, they're . . . they're . . ." Ron struggled, "they're not very nice."

"Who cares?" Harry said. "There's nothing wrong with Hagrid!"

"I know there isn't, but . . . blimey, no wonder he keeps it quiet," Ron shook his head. "I always thought he'd got in the way of a bad Engorgement Charm when he was a kid or something. Didn't like to mention it."

"But what's it matter if his mother was a giantess?" Harry asked, still confused.

"Well, no one who knows Hagrid will care, obviously, because he's far from dangerous," I said hesitantly. "But giants have a reputation of being vicious. Of course, it's just a reputation, right? Not much different than the stigma surrounding werewolves . . . but still, if people knew, it wouldn't bode well."