I hope our story has a happier ending

how we're gonna make it work

Hermione's laughing at the joke Blaise has just told so hard she has to stop walking; she manages to trip while doing so, but Blaise reaches out to brace her just in time to keep her form smacking head first into Ginny.

"Oh, hey!" She grins at the way Blaise straightens up nervously.

(She's been coercing Blaise into walking with her frequently for exactly this purpose—she'd nearly given up hope that they would actually bump into her, but this moment makes it all worth it.)

Ginny eyes them both, confused by the apparent friendship. "Hi, Hermione. What—uh, what are you up to?"

"Oh, Blaise just started watching my favorite muggle show, and he made a list of which of the doctor's companion's each professor was like—it was hilarious. Genius." Hermione elbows Blaise, who's statue-still enough to freak her out, and he jerks upright.

"Right, I should, uh—I should be going. Bye, Mia—nice to see you, Ginny."

He hurries away, and Hermione has to keep herself from growling, muttering "coward" under her breath.

Ginny blinks at her. "What the hell just happened?"

"I've no idea what you mean," Hermione says cheerfully.

"Zabini knows my name? And—you're friends?"

"Of course! We have Muggle Studies together, and Blaise always wants to know a lot more detail than we go over in class, so we end up discussing a lot—and he's always doing extra reading, or interacting with aspects of muggle life, so needs someone to discuss with, and of course I'm always excited to be able to talk muggle things."

Ginny just gapes at her, looking like her entire world has flipped on its axis. "Zabini's in muggle studies?"

Hermione's inner matchmaker claps her hands, but she tries to maintain a straight face. "Yes, of course. His family was neutral in the war—strictly for safety purposes, because his mother works with many of the sacred twenty-eights and would have been a target if they knew she supported the movement against Voldemort. Blaise is the same—keep that quiet, mind you, because a lot of people in his house would target him just as well."

"Oh." The younger girl blinks—Hermione can tell she's trying to acting like this doesn't affect her, like it's not something important, but it's clear that despite house rivalries she's paid him enough attention for the news to be significant. "Good to know."

/

When Harry comes back from his late night visit with Hagrid, he's shaking; no fear on his face, just—numb.

"Dragons, Mia," he rasps, lying down on the floor rather than taking the open seat beside her. "The first task is dragons."

She eyes him, trying to figure out if he needs comforting or dark comedic relief; she decides on the latter. "Sometimes I think magic is so different from what muggles think, but days like this I'm convinced we're just living Lord of the Rings or something. Maybe the second task will be saving Narnia."

Harry snorts, staring up at the ceiling. "At least then I'd get Turkish Delight."

"Winky?" Hermione calls, a devilish grin on her face.

The elf in question apparates, looking delighted to be called on. "Yes, Mistress?"

"Whenever you have the time, Harry would apparently love some Turkish Delight if possible. And I love that new dress!"

Winky beams at the compliment. "Thank you! I is using my wages for the materials and making it myself, since I is having so much free time. I will be having your food soon, Master Harry!"