The Night is Young | Hermione Granger

6. Gryffindor vs. Slytherin

When Daphne and Max aren't around, and it's just Isola and myself, it's pretty quiet. It's the easiest time to get work done without any chattering, and I'm at my most productive.

I ask her about my Arithmancy, like she suggested, and tell her that both Slytherin and Hufflepuff want copies of what I write about their players, treating it like sports statistics that they can use to better their team. I tell her that I think it might sway the math, and she tells me that they do the same thing for professional sports. It's not really an answer, but after that, nothing else is said and we go back to work.

Until, of course, I see Granger walk through the doors of the library, books stacked as high as the Gryffindor tower in her arms, without her friends in toll. Her skirt is moving frantically to keep up with the pace of her legs, and she makes beelines for the shelves, holding the books up perfectly so they float up to their assigned places.

She passes my table, and my eyes follow her because she's not looking at me. I think my hand lifts up to hold my cheek as I watch her disappear behind a column.

"I should go check on him." Isola mumbles, and I direct my attention to her, lowering my hand and straightening up.

"Him." I repeat.

"Maxim." She's writing in her notebook again, and with a small glance I notice a couple symbols before she closes it. "He's been hiding in his room all day."

I raise an eyebrow.

"And you didn't tell me." I drawl and she shrugs like it's no big deal.

"He's fine now." She reasons and I wonder how she knows that.

Isola then stands up to leave, taking a few steps before turning back and tucking in her chair like she forgot. I dismiss the odd actions, because Isola is a bit odd, and look again for Granger, but I can't find her.

So I take my things and go looking, peering down aisles of books until I find the right one.

She's placed the stack of returns on a desk, and is shuffling rather quietly through them as she nearly tosses them into the air. The books wobble slightly before perching themselves on the shelf.

There's no one around us and I walk up to her.

"There's a problem." I say and she jumps, a small squeak falling from her lips.

She swirls around, hand on her chest and a small glare.

"You can't just slither up to people like that, Moreau." She hisses and I raise an eyebrow at the metaphor.

"Would you rather I announce my presence in a roar." I test and she turns back to her books, so I repeat, "there's a problem with our Arithmancy project."

That gets her attention.

"What is it?"

"Slytherin and Hufflepuff want our recordings to use as statistics." I step out of the way so she can lift a book. "It might compromise the results."

"Gryffindor and Ravenclaw said the same thing. But I don't think it's a big deal." She says.

I cock my head to the side a bit.

"How so."

She looks at me for a second, and it's the same look that's void of any hostility. It's just a normal look, as if I'm not an enemy, and I don't think I can handle it, so I turn my gaze to one of the books she's returning. Hidden Charms: Are Your Items Cursed?

Granger snatches it away quickly, and my eyes flick back up to hers, happy to see the baby glare is back.

"We have sports statistics in... Muggle sports." She chooses her words carefully, and with hesitance, as if she'd rather not say anything at all. And by the way she's looking up at the book as it levitates, I think it's because she thinks I'm prejudice. "It doesn't affect the players much, so it won't affect our predictions."