August | Hermione Granger x OFC

Chapter Fifty-One

CW: same stuff as before pretty much

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Another week or so stuck in her room – stuck in her head, really – then, back to school. But not without a stern talking to from Father, right before boarding the train.

"You remember what we discussed, don't you, Robyn?"

"Yes, Father."

"You will never..." he trailed off expectantly with raised brows. Like it was a game or something, and it was amusing. It really wasn't.

"...Talk to the Mudblood again," she supplied obediently.

"Or...?"

"...Or any Mudblood."

"And?"

"And I will try to keep my mind protected at all times."

"You will keep your mind protected at all times."

"Yes, Father."

"Especially in Defence Against the Dark Arts."

Interesting.

"Yes, Father."

"Remember; I have eyes everywhere."

Great.

"Yes, Father."

They returned to the rest of the family, who were waiting patiently. Mother greeted her with a warm smile.

"Please do take pictures at the Ball for me, and enjoy any...theatrics this year, if you can. But good marks are a priority as always, thank you."

Right. The Yule Ball would take place this year, for whatever reason. She hadn't really cared to ask. She'd turn up, look pretty, then leave. Not much more to it.

Apparently, the Ball would be for fourth years and above, but it was more or less guaranteed that Draco would be taking her. Shame, really. She could think of several people she'd rather go with: Blaise, Theo, Daphne, Pansy, Hermione- no, no, not her.

Definitely not her.

As if.

She sat quietly on the train, staring out the window while Astoria regaled the other Slytherins in their year with tales of France.

While entering the castle, she had been alarmed when Professor McGonagall grabbed Hermione by the throat to steady herself due to the water balloons being thrown about by Peeves. On the outside, though, she showed mere disinterest. That's how it had to be now.

Robyn took a seat stiffly on the outskirts of her year-mates, beside Rhys. Hopefully he wouldn't try to talk to her too much. Because she really wasn't in the mood.

But it wasn't Rhys who talked to her, it was Olivia. No surprise, really.

She pulled Robyn into a hug from behind while Robyn sat still, uncomfortable. Then, "Where've you been? I assumed you were playing hard to get since you stopped replying to my letters. What, distance makes the heart grow fonder?" she said lightly, but with an undertone of worry.

Robyn shrugged her off and forced herself to respond flatly, "No."

Olivia recoiled then asked quietly with a frown, "Are you all right? You look a bit...peely-wally. I mean–"

She blinked back tears. "I'm fine."

Clearly, she still had work to do in terms of becoming an emotionless husk as her father so wished.