Jörmungandr

Knuckle Sandwich

Herbology was warm in the Greenhouse, glass walls trapping the mild October afternoon sun. Pleasant, not sticky heat. The last gifts of autumn before winter truly set in. The professor was Lindsey Loris. A short, bald man with a curly brown mustache and nearly spherical spectacles. He didn't introduce Hermione to the class, and she thought it merciful until she realized that he was extremely nearsighted and probably didn't notice a new girl.

Riddle was there. A shadow in her classes. Or maybe it was more accurate to say that she was his shadow. He was here first; it was only fair. He was partnered with the same white-haired boy from Potions. She would have to get his name. He was probably important. Or, at least, currently in favor.

It was a double class with Ravenclaws, but Hermione ended up partnered with one of her Slytherin roommates, Claudia Macmillan. In oversized robes and short red curls, her snake familiar wrapped lazily around her neck and shoulders. She was silent as Hermione got out her clippers and bucket.

They were clipping Pixy Thistle today. Careful to only cut third branches to keep it unbloodied and symmetrical and, when they were done, were to peel the excess branches for pickling.

"So, what's your deal, then?" Macmillan said next to her. Her Scot's brogue even lighter now than it was in the morning.

"Aren't you supposed to be ignoring me?" Hermione said, pruning branches.

"I am."

Hermione shot her a look.

"I am ignoring you," Macmillan said with an inflection as if to give it a greater meaning.

Oh.

This was a game.

Ignore Hermione, then engage with her after she stewed in rejection. Manipulate her by withholding socialization, reward her when she offers up information. Classic carrot and stick. Better than Malfoy, but no more subtle. Suddenly, she appreciated the trouble Riddle went through to worm under her guard.

"Okay," Hermione returned to her cuttings.

Macmillan let out a huff and whispered to her again, "What is your deal, then? Dead parents, excommunicated from your coven. You get into some real trouble, yeah? What'd you do?"

The rumor mill was ceaseless, wasn't it? What had happened to her fighting Grindelwald? She had liked the Hufflepuff's rumor of her. It was more malleable and suited her needs.

"I'm not in any trouble."

"So, you're here for recon or something?"

"What?" she said lightly, unconcerned. Macmillan couldn't possibly know what she was here for. Hermione didn't stop snipping.

"You're a spy or something? Or are you looking for a spy?"

Well, that was a fucking leap.

"...What?" Hermione said slowly, confused, showing utter bafflement at being accused of spying. Macmillan didn't have proof. No one did. It was just a silly rumor born from wartime paranoia and a new girl showing up out of the blue.

"No offense, but you look like you have spent the last year catching every curse in the book," she said quietly.

Oh.

Yeah.

That made sense. Hermione was covered head to toe in scars and her roommates had no doubt gotten an eyeful when she changed. It explained the disparities in rumors. She wasn't even offended, "I'm a spy because I'm ugly?"