The Dreamer

To Hogsmead!

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Slipping out ahead of everyone, Hermione hoped to make her way to the carriages that now queued along the front of Hogwarts. Only Forth Years and above would be going to Hogsmead to shop for Yule Ball. It was also the responsibility of a select few on various committees to pick up odds and ends for Hogwarts staff on their trip.

It was evident that somewhere along the way Padma had learned to delegate and Hermione was now sorry she’d ever mentioned anything about deputies, for she had no doubt that’s what must have sparked the Ravenclaw’s imagination to wander down the path that led to this elaborate plan to get everything on her to-do list done.

Hermione supposed she was only obligated for the second quarter of the year, and thank Merlin she'd not been offered the position of Head Girl. She'd been already notoriously labeled insufferable on more than one occasion. Hermione had no doubt that had she pulled the very stunt that Padma seemed to be getting away with, it would have backfired spectacularly.

This made Hermione feel slightly depressed. She couldn't lie, she still wasn't that popular, saving the world be dammed, clearly Harry did it all on his own, while the rest of society viewed her as just salacious gossip fodder. Hermione had heard the rumors going around about her insatiable sexual appetite, mostly it was among the Fifth Years and Sixth Years, so what did they know?

It struck her as no great irony that those rumors always seemed to follow her whether she was actually having sex or not. Viktor Krum was a fine example of rumor mills gone nutty, in that being friends with more than one famous Wizard could get one labeled “tart” even though she and Viktor only shared one very wet and messy kiss. It hadn’t been even that enjoyable. Couldn't she have been downgraded to "tease"?

Speaking of little the buggers who had nothing better to do than to gossip, Hermione caught sight of a few in the younger crowd that were also along for today's ride. They would be watching her. Drat. If she had to guess, Hermione suspected a few Sixth Years in Slytherin and Ravenclaw might have started the rumor about her appetites after she'd reprimanded a few couples in her role as Prefect.

"Rotten little...all the more reason to avoid them today." Hermione grumbled lowly as she trudged on.

Hermione was sure everyone would also be fitting in time to visit a few shops not listed on the agenda, or whatever other random stops most would want take advantage of while getting out of class for the day. Hermione was sure if she got a head start she could avoid a lot of familiar faces by going to her assignments first, stopping by a reputable potion shop quickly, before doubling back early. That, she calculated, would give her time to study. Batch 19 had been a failure, this was her final Potions project, and it was taking more time away from her other assigned work.

It was then something jarred her momentum. Harry caught her by the shoulder before she could get too far away from the Decorations Committee, most of which met up at the doors to receive their lists. But, Harry had been too quick for her. Pity it hadn’t been Ron, she was kind of hoping he’d come to find her.

Hermione’s spirits sunk when she’d realized it been almost an entire day since she’d seen him before now, a week since they last spoke, and that was taking into account that they practically lived together, ate together, went to class together, and until very recently, were making frequent dates together. Hermione felt as if Ron was avoiding her purposefully. And shouldn't he, she wondered, she had hexed him, but in her view that didn't mean he hadn't deserve it at the time. She was already tired of their latest row. Why was it so hard to make up, if you love someone wouldn't it be such an easy thing to do?

“Do you plan on going off on your own for the entire trip?” asked Harry a bit winded. She’d managed a good distance from them before he noticed she’d trekked away.

“Yeah,” Hermione sighed. “Ginny said you all were putting it in the past. I can too, but I’m fine to be on my own a bit longer, if you don’t mind.”

“I mind.” Harry scoffed. “It’s not all that safe still. You know that certain rumors are true. How do you not worry about it?” He seemed genuinely anxious and it grated her nerves.

“What can’t I face now?” commented Hermione bitterly. Her arms crossed as she gripped her middle. Backing away from Harry, Hermione noted he seemed at a loss for words. He let her slip out of his grasp, confusion upon his face.

Obligingly, Hermione filled in the blanks, “Yes, I’m a Muggle born, but I helped you till the end. Funny that last observation, really. All I seem to hear is, 'Can Hermione take care of herself?'. I think I can handle a few Death Eater rejects that stumble across my path. Remember, when we took down all the big names in that absurd final battle, you know that one, where we all nearly died too many times to count? Wait, I think you might have actually died at least once. Good times, really.”

“So, that’s your answer for me, really awful sarcasm?” Harry droned completely unamused with her wild take on things. He was looking at her strangely now, as if something else was under her skin.

It made Hermione recoil, what right did he have to suspect something was wrong with her? After all those times she yelled at him to get real help, and the every time there after when he ignored her sage advice, had the world gone crazy? All new lows came to mind as she realized how insane the situation was. This day was just becoming worse.

“I don’t really seem to feel much these days. Not even betrayal, so you know, I don’t really need your help just now.” Choked Hermione as she used her palm to brush away a hot tear from her chin. “I mean what did you honestly expect? That I would forgive you just like that. You’re only lucky Ginny came to me pitifully begging that I lift those curses. And those things you all said, I thought you were my best friend, but apparently I was wrong. Side with Ginny, that's where you're first loyalties are now.”

"Just admit it was you, there's no other explanation. It's all right if it was an accident." Harry shouted with exasperation. "I would know!"

"I think I've heard this one before, and yet you never seemed to listen to me, so I'm wondering why you would even think I'd want to hear it from you now?" Hermione rolled her eyes. He'd forced her hand, typical; he just couldn't leave well enough alone.

“My mistake,” Harry’s face became hard as he said so. Hermione couldn’t look at him. She’d never seen him go from wounded to angry so quickly before, or maybe she had, she couldn’t recall as the sight of Thestrals seemed more interesting to look at just then.

“You’ll find I won’t be troubling you any longer with small things like friendly concern and protection. Clearly you have issues to deal with, but it doesn’t change that you’re in no state to go off on your own. But I’m done…” Harry's voice began trailing. “I won’t do a damn thing unless you tell me explicitly what it is you want from me. Do you hear me! I’m tired of you girls, never saying exactly what you really want! ... It’s fucking insane!”

She was shocked. He’d stormed off before she could say anything; Hermione could hear him mumbling lowly as he went. He might have already been upset about his argument with Ginny and the hush surrounding their engagement considering his behavior in Divinations that day. She’d apologize after their trip that is if she didn’t cross paths with Harry before then, or not. She knew he’d probably stay far away from her for the rest of the day, if not the week, based on those last words she heard slip out of his rant. Or maybe she would let him apologize to her when he tried to approach her again; Hermione really hadn't liked what he said just then.

In a flustered state, Hermione finished her jaunt to the carriages in hopes of getting one all to herself. Unfortunately, she would find that she was going to be very unlucky in this endeavor.

“Why hello there, Granger,” said Pansy coyly just as Hermione hopped up into the enclosed carriage.

“Oh, right-right-right,” Hermione stammered, preparing to dismount back down the steps. “I didn’t know it was occupied.”

“Don’t,” Pansy called, “It’s no use. Draco and I discovered they won’t go without three at the very least. A few have already taken off so we know.”

“Don’t you want to wait for one of your own to come along?” The words were out of her mouth before she even knew what she was saying.

Catching herself so utterly after the fact, Hermione’s eyes grew wide as she smiled weakly, but again right as she began to step down, Pansy called out to her.

“Trust me, we know it takes at least three and the carriages fit four. We sent off Daphne, Blaise, Astoria, and Theo. ” She motioned to Malfoy sitting next to her, completely ignoring their exchange, “And he doesn’t mind.”

“That’s quite enough Pans. Obviously, we should be happy that she wants to leave so one of our own can come along instead.” Grumbled Draco without bothering to look away from his window, not even to scowl at them. “Good-bye now, Granger.”

Within a fraction of second Hermione’s forced smile dropped and her gaze narrowed on Pansy. “You know Parkinson, I think I’ll just have a seat.”

“As long as it gets us to where we’re going,” Parkinson breezed in a haughty voice, “I don’t really care.”

Hermione had no clue as to what had prompted her to do that. It might have been her row with Harry that made her feel so stubborn. The the small jolt of the carriage taking off bustled the occupants, and Hermione contemplated one last attempt at civility, to see if this whole thing even stood a chance.

In her mind’s eye she imagined the following scenario, while to anyone looking on, Hermione Granger appeared to be very deep in thought:

---

“Pansy, so do we talk now?” I question her with my back purposefully turned to Malfoy.

Pansy eyes my defensive posture and remarks in Pansy voice, “I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“I’m glad were on the same page.” I say. I sit back in my seat and do more of the silence thing.

Well, at least I have a response to being shot down, but what if Malfoy joins the fray? Let's see, he's unpredictable, let's try not to forget that. And let's not forget rude, or fashionably witty might be how he would term it, and in general, as I would term it, a fucking prick. Hmmm. New scenario:

“So, Pansy, do we do that talking thing now.” I say, but I know this will come out falsely chipper because I have nothing else to fall back on, how does one even go about making idle chit chat without sounding falsely chipper? Revisit this point later.

Only this time I’ll choose not to turn away from Malfoy, this will let Pansy know I'm not maligning her possible what-ever-he-is-to-her, but instead choose to envision myself acting like an adult by pretending nothing is wrong, or out of the ordinary. Not that it works well when thinking back on true life examples, but this is all the finesse I can manage today. I'll sit facing them both, but looking at Pansy since I am addressing her.

“Sure, Granger.” Malfoy responds. That doesn’t seem good. Why is he acting out, oh, yes, right, unpredictable, how can we forget that in the middle of the scenario?

“I’m sorry, Malfoy. And hello, what would you like to speak about?” I ask, but greatly tempered from my previous attempt because he annoys me and that does not make me chipper at all, false or not. I can barely even stand to look at him.

“I’d like to hear about the time you didn’t speak to me like a small child.” He smiles evilly like he always does.

"I'm sorry, I'm not speaking prat today." I'll have to respond, because he's really aiming for trouble, and I'm not falling for that pretend civility thing he does.

"Your native tongue offends?" He smirks wickedly, because that is what he does best, "How about some troll?"

"I'm afraid your vast knowledge on all things trollish far exceeds my own, I'll have to decline." I'm losing patience. He's purposefully being arrogant.

"What else don't you know, Granger?" Malfoy drawls. "Because I've never heard you concede not actually knowing something before."

"Did you also know I got in a carriage with two Slytherins against my better judgment, and so far there's only one of you I can stand, care to take a guess at which one you its not?"

That would sting I bet. He seems sensitive to the whole being ostracized thing lately, or if I had to hazard a guess. And if I had to wager, I bet he yells or simmers.

I wonder if Pansy would jump to my defense, no she wouldn’t, she sides with her own even if he is making arse out of himself. Minutes would pass by painfully and no one would talk. Not much different than now really but with a lot less embarrassment. I opt for not talking. There that was easy.

---

“Hermione?” Pansy clapped her hands in front of Hermione, breaking the brunette's concentration.

“What!” Shouted Hermione annoyed, before surprise caught her, “Um, are we done already? I mean, you're outside the carriage so, I must have been thinking-”

“Apparently, it would seem our ride is over.” groused Pansy cutting Hermione off. Parkinson eyed the other girl suspiciously.

“Oh,” said Hermione, getting up to dismount the carriage, even she had to admit she sounded a bit absentminded to her own ears, “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“Not that I care,” prefaced Parkinson, “but are you going to be ok?”

That the notoriously selfish, and incidentally Pureblood elitist, Pansy seemed only a trifle interested was still more than what the situation demanded of Parkinson’s social responsibilities. Hermione looked at the Slytherin Witch in astonishment. There was absolutely no way for that girl to ever be nice. Hatefulness was an art so finely crafted in this one; she even lived it when she was trying to be helpful, or maybe that was what passed for courteous in Parkinson's world.

“Um, I just have a bit of headache. That’s all.” Hermione responded mechanically, there was no use pretending her lines weren't long rehearsed ones.

“Oh, for pity’s sake Pans, lets go!” Draco yelled from outside the carriage, but not too far into the plaza. It was obvious to Hermione that he didn’t hold with Pansy take on a possible Slytherin-Gryffindor reconciliation.

“I’ll have to see about some of that Pepper Up Potion at one of the finer stores. Stronger stuff, you know.” Hermione shrugged off the other girl's observation. "In short, I'll be fine, um, thanks. Don't let me keep you."

“Yeah,” Pansy exhaled in disbelief. “I can’t believe I actually pity you, Granger.”

Hermione’s head snapped up. But before she could demand an answer Pansy supplied it. “Look, I’m going to do you this itty favor, but never ever say a word to anyone that I did this for you, ever.”

Pulling out notebook Pansy tore out a page, whispering an incantation on it, “Ok, here.”

“What is this?” Hermione took the sheet cautiously from Pansy, not quite knowing what to make of the glowing blood red list and street map now etched on the obviously expensive paper. She'd never seen a trick like that in some of the stores she'd went to, not that she couldn't afford it, but the novelty was new.

“A map and list, you’re not going blind too?” Parkinson questioned seriously before recognizing Hermione's less than amused expression. “Just checking, anyway, go see about these things, especially those two books, and be extra sure to see Mistress Medea’s for the Pepper Up Potion, no one does it better. Not even Snape, were he still alive.”

“Thanks?” Hermione said looking up to see Pansy catching up to Draco, but not before Hermione heard him shout to across the way.

“What concern for one of them, have you gone soft on us?” Malfoy teased. Hermione could see that Pansy had an impish little smile before giggling in response.

“Well, let’s see about that butter beer you owe me, just watching that one give herself a headache was as interesting as, well there was nothing interesting about it. I’ve never been so completely ignored before; it was like a skill...”

“Yeah, you have that effect on a lot of people,” joked Pansy, “some might say that is a skill in itself. Mmm, butter beer did you say? And what do you feel like doing after that?” Pansy's voice was clearly playful now. Hermione wanted to vomit.

“Oh, I don’t know, I suppose I want to know what the hell Daphne and Astoria are up to and why Blaise is playing along and hurting you all the more for it, and what does it all have to do with me anyway…” Draco's voice could be heard trailing.

Hermione couldn’t hear the rest of whatever else he said for they were out of ear shot now. People had a way of doing that a lot today; it was an oddly troubling phenomenon Hermione decided, like half finished conversations in which nothing was learned.

However, there was one thing Hermione could say she’d learned well, and that was never to trust a Slytherin. As a result of that timeless lesson, and after wadding up the paper, Hermione vanished the information Pansy gave her. Adding to her mental to-do list was also finding the store that carried this sort of enchanted paper.

Hermione decided earlier in the day that the word caution was always good one. She might as well drink a well-known poison and possibly attain a much better outcome racing to get the antidote than taking her chances with an unknown Slytherin prank.

“Do they think I’m stupid?” She moaned, hopping off the last step. “Like I’d ever trust either of them.”

That said, Hermione then realized that sometimes lust of knowledge could be fairly described as the ultimate temptation. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t experienced more than once what a mistake cost her, but just the idea alone was tempting to succumb to. To entertain daydreams, it was a super power of unwieldy means. To be in any scenario and gauge the outcomes, to potentially stumble across a plot in the making, she was coming into her own. But she wondered if her sleuthing skills were strong enough for her to rely only on her own powers of deduction. She'd always, like Harry, had help in some form or another.

That still didn't distract her from revisiting something she heard Malfoy say to Parkinson. What were Astoria, Daphne, and Blaise up to? Was there in fighting amongst the forked-tongue ones? Maybe a Disillusioning Spell and a little snooping couldn't hurt, she decided, just to be sure there wasn't something of a dangerous nature going on. After all, Hermione calculated that she did have some time to kill before her researching Charms and Transfiguration papers for next week.

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A/N: I'm dealing with getting over this horrible stomach bug, yesterday was so much worse, but the next chapter will be up by the end of this week hopefully. I've got it outlined, but word count on this chapter is 3 thousand something. And what was originally the other half of this chapter will have some interesting revelations to come! As always, thanks to those who review, I appreciate the time you take to do so.