To Me, From Me // DHr ✔️

e i g h t

Friday rolled in much quicker than Hermione anticipated. With all the schoolwork the eighth years have been dumped on, the upcoming ball and the hunt for her mystery guy, she was left with barely enough time to breathe. She loved it though, being busy. It means she's not idly sitting by, and idly sitting by is possibly the worst for the likes such as Hermione Granger.

She's managed to steal a couple of minutes to herself by going into the abandoned girls' lavatory. It seems as though luck was on her side because for once, Moaning Myrtle wasn't anywhere seen. All day she's been hounded by a lot of people - students who needed tutoring, prefects who were complaining about the rounds' timetable, and of course, Parvati, who was heading the organisation committee for their Winter Ball.

Going over to the sink, she splashed some cold water on her face in hopes to rejuvenate her tired exterior. She's just finished drying herself off when the door of the bathroom swung open to reveal three people.

"It's just Granger." Hermione knew the owner of the voice before she whipped around to face them. When she did, she caught the nods Zabini and Nott sent her way and she did the same to them. Then with a cross of her arms, she stared back at Malfoy with the same level of intensity he's giving off.

"Ohoho, so it is. What's the Head Girl doing in a place like this?" Zabini, as he sauntered past Malfoy to get through the doorway. "Came to cry like Drakey here did?" He snickered, which earned him a glare from Malfoy. If anyone else was glared at like that by Malfoy, they would have surely tucked their tail and ran like Voldemort himself was after them (she knows this because she's witnessed it more than enough times). But not Zabini and Nott apparently, who merely rolled their eyes at the other boy's sourness.

"The Head Girl is just getting a bit of peace and quiet, if you must know." She snootily replied to Zabini's question, hoping that they'd get the hint and leave. They didn't.

When the three went further into the room without acknowledging her further, Hermione tapped the sink with her nails. "What are you doing here?"

"We were looking for Moaning Myrtle actually. Do you know where she went?" Nott asked and Hermione shook her head. Malfoy groaned impatiently.

"Fuck this, I'm leaving." He announced then left the room. Nott gestured towards the retreating figure of their friend to Zabini, who reluctantly went after him.

Left alone, Hermione cleared her throat, wondering what else Theodore Nott could want from her.

"You're in charge of the ball, right?" Well, for all that she's expected, she wasn't expecting that. Slowly, she nodded, unsure of where this was going.

"Yes, but my job is only to approve really. I'm letting Parvati go wild." She answered, and the look on Nott's face couldn't be any more frightening.

"What do you say about letting me help you?"

----

Hermione has only been to the Gryffindor common room once since school started and she blames it all on her busy schedule. A lie, of course, because she knows that the reason she hasn't been going is because of the people who live there. Truth be told, she doesn't want any attention and she likes being alone surrounded by books, not by fanatics who only want to be told (and retold over and over again) about her great adventures with Harry and Ron. She would've preferred to not have fans at all. Everyone did their part in the war, she just happened to be involved in a lot more because it was an occupational hazard, what with being best friends with Harry Potter.

Now she's here because the Gryffindors were throwing a party in honor of Harry's visit. Ginny informed them that he would be flooing any minute from now and that's where she and Dean went, to go fetch him. Seamus was by the table of food and drinks while Neville went to go get Luna. She was acutely aware of how alive the room was, juxtaposed by how isolated she was sitting on the couch talking to no one, but she calmly sipped on her Firewhiskey and reassured herself that being swarmed on is a fate far worse than looking like Malfoy 2.0.

She chuckled at the thought of that, of a Malfoy robot, which is fitting, because he's been so devoid of emotion lately. He's surviving the aftermath of war in the only way he knows how - in the only way he can.

Looking to the door where Harry walked in from, the party had officially begun. The volume of the music tripled, and so was the laughter and chattering. Drinks were being handed out and more and more people started pouring in, cramping the already cramped space. Hermione found herself drowning under all the noise.

Just like the rest of us.