A Harry Potter/Throne of Glass/A Court of Thorns and Roses crossover

.22.

Dorian almost shrank under the weight of the glares sent his way, somehow reminding him that a disgraced king had no power or authority in this world. But in that moment, Dorian was also filled with a sense of hatred, petty as it was. Who were these people, strangers all of them, to tell him what to do? Who did they think they were, to presume to question him?

"I asked you a question, Dorian," Tamlin hissed. "What the hell is going on here?"

"And I chose not to answer," Dorian stated bluntly. "Who are you to question me? What, are you jealous of all the time that I've been spending with Hermione? If you had any friends of your own, Tamlin, you'd understand why I have been spending time with her."

"I have friends," Tamlin snarled.

"Who?" Dorian questioned. "Harry and Ginny here? I was rather under the impression that they were Hermione's friends. Not yours."

"Don't be stupid," Tamlin said, still snarling. "Of course they're my friends. You don't know what you're talking about."

At this Harry and Ginny started looking extremely uncomfortable. "Ah, actually," Ginny piped up awkwardly, "but in case you hadn't realised it, Tamlin, we aren't exactly friends."

Tamlin whirled on her. "What are you blithering about? Of course we're friends. I have known you for nearly a year now."

"That doesn't necessarily mean that we're friends," Harry grumbled bitterly, glaring at both Tamlin and Hermione. "I've known plenty of people here for nearly eight years, and there's no way in hell that I'd call all of them friends."

"You must be joking," Tamlin said haughtily. "In a place this size, with this many residents, you have thousands of friends."

"No we aren't," Ginny retorted. "Hate to break it to you, but most people can't stand you. You're a haughty, arrogant, stuck up, spoiled brat who thinks that the entire world revolves around you. You're very plainly a narcissist. No one likes you. Personally, I find it a miracle that Hermione has been able to tolerate your presence for so long."

"I don't know why you'd think I hate him, Ginny," Hermione mumbled almost inaudibly. "You know me better than that. You know how I usually tend to ignore people's bad qualities once I've made friends with them. Even more so after I've fallen in love with them."

A terse, dead silence followed Hermione's words. After a few moments, Harry spoke up. "But, Hermione, you don't love him," he said kindly. "He's just your rebound."

"Yes, I actually do love him, Harry," Hermione said stubbornly, "And no, he's not just a rebound. I've never felt this way about anyone before. Not even about Ronald. Good God, Ronald is such a wimp especially when compared with Tamlin."

At the sound of the insult, Ginny slapped Hermione round the face. Hard. "Don't you ever talk about my brother like that. Ron is brave and strong, a true Gryffindor. If I didn't know better, I'd say that you were the one who was meant to be in Slytherin. Not my brother."

"No matter what you say, Hermione," Harry said authoritatively. "Nothing excuses you lying to us the way you have this year."

"But I wasn't lying, Harry," Hermione said almost meekly. "I only found out who I really was this summer. I told you all this."

"That still means that you have been lying to us for nearly a year," Ginny said. "And that really is unforgivable."

"Why on earth—" Hermione began, but was cut off.

"Because the boy who has tormented us for years, is your brother!" Harry yelled, whirling on her. "Draco Malfoy is your brother!"