𝙻𝚒𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 II SS/HG ✔️

Bedfellows

Hermione pushed her breakfast around her plate.

"You alright?" Ginny asked.

Hermione had arrived to breakfast late. Her stomach was empty—eating had been too much effort yesterday. She was ravenous—but nothing appealed to her. She shrugged.

"Hey." Ginny put her hand on Hermione's arm. "It could be worse."

"I know."

"At least he's your type."

"Not hardly!"

"Oh come on," Ginny laughed. "Viktor Krum?"

"Viktor is—is a sweetheart!" Hermione raged.

Ginny pulled her ponytail tighter. "Well, maybe you just have that effect on dark-haired, scary-looking wizards."

"I really doubt it!" Hermione put her head in her hand.

"We'll see. He should count himself lucky to have married a witch like you."

"Yes, I'm sure he's counting his blessings right now," she muttered.

Ginny glanced at the Head Table.

"Don't tell me," Hermione said. "Scowly?"

"Very."

"Yeah. He seems really chuffed to have a wife like me."

The Great Hall was mostly empty aside from the teachers who were all still seated, minus the Carrows, both of which preferred sleep over breakfast most days, and Professor Dumbledore, who had already started his slow trek to the Quidditch pitch.

Ginny shoved Hermione's shoulder so hard Hermione had to get out of her mopey posture. "I'm trying to get you to look at the shinier side of the cauldron, here."

"I know it's—he's my best option, Ginny. That's why I did it. That doesn't mean I'm happy about it."

"Marrying a professor? That sounds exactly like the kind of kinky dream you'd have."

Hermione's entire face heated up. "Ginny!" Thank God none of their classmates were still in the Great Hall!

She shrugged. "What? It isn't?"

"No! It isn't!" she stressed. "Not when the only professors—available for such—ideas are Professor Flitwick and—and Hagrid!"

"And your husband," Ginny nettled in an undertone, poking Hermione repeatedly in the side.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore." She shoved a forkful of mash into her mouth.

Ginny waved her off. "Shiny side of the cauldron, Mione. There's always at least one."

"Cauldrons are round!" she said, covering her mouth. Loathe as she was to speak with her mouth stuffed full of food, Ginny was—was wrong. About cauldrons and husbands and professorial fantasies.

Ginny leaned back to laugh.

"Anyway, what's with the—the sudden positive outlook on this whole thing?" Hermione asked.

"Wouldn't you get bored always listening to complaints about it?" Ginny asked, a bit of devilment in her eyes. "Ron's got complaints for days. I'm here for support."

"Thank you." Hermione put her fork down. Perhaps Ginny was right—she could commiserate with the boys all she wanted. But advice? From them? About marriage? Never.

Hermione sighed, "We've got to…"

"What?"

Hermione scooted closer. They were basically alone in the Great Hall, since everyone else was vying for good seats for the first Quidditch match of the year, but it didn't hurt to be cautious. "If we aren't…near each other…the stupid law—" She gestured with her hands, like she was choking the law about the invisible throat. "Restricts our magic and makes us feel bloody awful."