-Pansy x Hermione
-Hogwarts Eighth Year
-Head Girl Hermione
-Mean girl Pansy Parkinson
-on AO3 with same title and username
-JKR owns the world and characters
-I don't support JKR
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Hermione was pouring over her itinerary for the next month: quidditch teams would be having tryouts - she could coordinate that with Harry and ask him for help with the other houses, the frog choir was also having auditions - they could happen in the Great Hall? The acoustics were pretty good in there, and first years needed to be given tours of the school by prefects as well as a rigorous explanation of the rules - there would be no more young students falling from the moving staircases on Hermione's watch.
Then of course there were the more melancholy duties left to Hermione: pouring over the lost and found to see if any belongings were left behind by the deceased in the Battle of Hogwarts and returning it to their grieving families, creating a memorial for the deceased, considering a plan of action for inter-house unity, and educating pure-blood students and muggleborn students alike on the differences between their cultures and fostering an environment of mutual respect. It was a tall order for a kid, but Hermione had never really been a kid.
Hermione was used to taking on work that should probably be done by someone older and wiser than her, she'd been doing it since her first year at Hogwarts. Dumbledore had a fondness for delegating that Hermione hadn't realized was wildly inappropriate until long after his death, when it would have been incredibly disrespectful to speak ill of him. It must have been the passage of time that caused the shift in her view of him, watching the tiny first-years whimsily traipsing around the castle, and thinking about her in her first year her friends and she had been risking their lives to stop a madman from getting the Philosopher's Stone. And that was the tamest of their adventures.
Luckily, Headmistress McGonagall was not asking her to risk her life, just her sanity. If Hermione missed another night of sleep trying to work out the kinks in her proposals she thought she might combust. It is the trial of a perfectionist to lose sleep until everything is sorted out, so Hermione's under-eye circles seemed destined to darken.
She was in a peak of exhaustion that rivaled Horcrux hunting and the absolute mayhem that was her third year - while she was reflecting on bad decisions made by the adults in her life, who the hell thinks it's a good idea to give a third-year a ministry-quality time-turner?
Rather than telling a headstrong overachiever who wanted to take every single class that Hogwarts had to offer regardless of schedule conflicts, that sometimes we get what we get and we don't get upset, some dingus decided to let a child bend the confines of space and time? Seriously, it was a miracle Hermione hadn't gone mad with all that nonsense. It was a miracle that Hermione wasn't going mad right now.
At least she had the privacy of her Head Girl suite, perfect for staying up until the wee hours of the night working tirelessly and getting absolutely no rest. Okay. Hermione might have been a little bit cranky, but that was justified. Everyone else at Hogwarts should try working as hard as she does and see how they like it.
"Earth to Hermione," Ron snapped his fingers in Hermione's face trying to coax her into the conversation at the breakfast table. Hermione flickered to attention and groaned "what?"
