Walking through the hall, the group was silent as they passed by the statues and paintings.
For the time of day, being just after lunch, the halls were shockingly empty. You figured that was because most students were in their dorms as a precaution. In a way, the silent halls in the middle of the day felt ominous.
Like something was intrinsically wrong with the air.
The portraits you passed were mostly empty as well, which you found odd.
Where did all of them go during the day?
For the matter, how far were they able to reach? Could they leave the castle entirely, or was there just some mass of paintings somewhere you didn't know about?
You'd have to ask later.
Harry was still wearing that odd expression, so, turning you faced the girl, who was lagging behind.
"Are you alright, Harry?" You asked, somewhat concerned. You were sure that the Classroom was safe, but with the odd way she was acting, you were interested in being sure.
The girl dithered a bit before answering.
"I… I'll tell you later. It's private, just… I'm gonna need to know what happened. With you and the troll."
You blinked.
"Huh? Didn't I already-"
"I mean in detail. The play-by-play. It's… important." She interrupted.
You blinked.
Huh?
Before you could ask further, Hermione stepped forward, a stern frown on her face.
"I do not care what either of you do." She gave both a severe look. "I only care that you do not spread what you have seen today around the school. It could drastically hurt my standing, and if it reaches the wrong ears, I may never hear back from the editor of the Quibbler about some of my theories." She said, glaring at you specifically.
"And I especially do not appreciate being exposed to your degenerate acts, even if it was for a noble cause. I do not understand how you live with yourself." She tacked on, blushing hotly. Her eyes went far away for a moment, and she seemed to rub her thighs together as well.
You wondered if she was recalling her own interaction with the troll.
Before the conversation could continue further, though, you were interrupted by a series of loud, tapping footsteps, echoing off the walls and into your ears.
The three of you turned at the same time, to behold Professor Quirrell, one of Hogwarts's few male professors, and the one who had warned of the Troll earlier, walking towards you with a frown.
The sound of his footsteps in the silence perturbed you a bit, but not as much as the way the air in the room seemed to grow heavy, and the way he slouched down, as if his head were especially heavy.
The man's classes were fine; he wasn't especially experienced but was competent enough and answered questions easily.
But something about him now seemed… different.
He stopped in front of you and studied your group for a moment before speaking.
"Mister Granger. I see that you've found your way back. Managed the troll alright then, good. Any injuries?"
The question was curt, and although he waited for an answer, you didn't quite believe he cared about it overtly much. Or did she? The man's expressions were hard to read and seemed to constantly warp between two different modes.
"No, sir." It was odd the way he managed to sneer and sigh in relief at the same time. It seemed almost painful.
"Good. Off to see Dumbledore, then I suppose?" He asked.
You nodded.
"Good. I will escort you the rest of the way. While there was only one Troll that I saw, the safety of the students is paramount."
He seemed to be saying it, almost to someone else. There was a hiss, and he clutched his forehead before looking back up.
"Are you… alright Professor Quirrell?" You asked.
He nodded, easily, and for the first time, an easy-going smile spread over his face, which would have been convincing if you had ever seen the normally stuttering, scared man smile before.
"Certainly, Mr. Granger. Thank you for the concern, though. Unfortunately, though, I will not be able to accompany you to the headmaster. I have a time-sensitive matter that needs tending." He said, before turning on his heel and walking away. A hand waved behind him jauntily as he turned the corner.
You shared a look with Harry, and then, with Hermione as well. Even the Slytherin understood the oddness of that encounter. Didn't he just say he was going to lead you to the Headmaster?
"I guess… we continue?" You asked, only to receive a nod and a shrug.
As you did, it occurred to you that Quirrell hadn't stuttered once in the conversation.
-x-X-x-
After meeting Professor Quirell, there weren't really any stops between there and the headmaster's office.
Harry was leading the way, given that she was the only one among you who had been there extensively. You had only walked by it, and Hermione had confessed to not having any idea, after attempting to lead the way for a bit.
Of course, logically, you knew where it was. Flitwick had informed you all of the locations of the offices of each of the Heads of House and Dumbledores.
But you had never actually been there, there hadn't been a need to, of course, and Howarts was a maze at the best of times.
Hermione had tried to take the lead at one point, but when you ended up back where you had started, and on the wrong floor, Harry sighed before taking the lead.
Much to the verbal dismay of your pure-blooded (unknowing) relative.
"Are you sure you know where you're going?" She questioned, voice rising in such a way to convey skepticism and a mild sense of derision. The bushy-haired girl was following only a bit behind, arms crossed.
Harry sighed.
"Yes, I'm sure. It's just around the corner." She said, for about the fifth time so far. Harry appeared to be tolerant of it, but you could see her temper flaring slightly, in the familiar way her hands twitched.
You decided to jump in, if anything, to save yourself the trouble of an argument.
Also, you were, admittedly, curious about your cousin.
"Why so doubtful, Hermione?" You asked, hanging back slightly to walk beside her. Your question was met with a slight shuffling and a sneer, as she moved away from you, as if smelling something vile.
"It's Dagworth-Granger, Granger-" She paused, realizing the difficulty. "Just Dagworth, actually. Don't address me so familiarly, it's unseemly."
You nodded easily.
"Dagworth, then. The question, though?"
The Slytherin girl huffed, crossing her arms.
"It's not that I question the other's intent, but more of his ability." She nodded confidently, as if she were lecturing on some clear topic. "It's simply a question of genetic ability, while better than a Muggleborn, no offence, his being both a half-blood, as well as a man, makes me doubtful of his navigation abilities."
You blinked.
Well.
That was delightfully sexists wasn't it?
You turned towards Harry, who looked back at you with wide eyes.
"Annnnd, why?" You asked, finally.
Hermione huffed, looking up, as if she was aggrieved for having to explain something so obvious. This was at odds with the fact that she also seemed happy to do so.
"Simple, Men are nearly helpless without witches, which is why, naturally, the professors sent me with the two of you. To make sure nothing happened." She nodded, punctuating her point.
"And what about when we saw you getting tongued out by the Troll? Was that all part of some master plan?" Harry asked crudely. You winced as an expression of outrage flashed across Hermione's face.
"I'll have you know I had that completely under control, you-"
"Oh, look were here!" You desperately said, before either girl whipped out their wands.
The gargoyle statue, representing the headmaster's office, sat tall.
.
----------->
.
It looked… different from what you remembered. Still, it was sitting entirely still. It was short, despite the fact that it sat on a podium above you. You wondered whether the thing would even meet your waist.
What a strange statue.
Some strange air came about the place, and you flinched, as your eyes stung briefly.
You all stood there for a bit.
…
"Does anyone know the password?" You asked, looking around.
Harry shrugged, and Hermione raised a finger, stopped, lowered it, before pulling a book out of her bag to begin reading.
While Hermione read, you decided to try the most immediate solution first.
That being said, simply asking.
You'd found, in the time that you'd been in Hogwarts so far, that there wasn't much in the castle that wouldn't respond if you spoke with it enough.
You'd heard rumors from some of the other boys about a third-floor washroom incident, but they all got tight-lipped whenever you asked.
Besides, this was an emergency; surely the castle would understand the dire need and let you through.
Stepping forward, you watched carefully for the statue to begin moving, look towards you, something to indicate an extent of life in the creature.
You stood for a moment, expecting acknowledgment.
Nothing.
You shifted a bit, clearing your throat. There was still no response.
You looked towards Harry, who shrugged. Hermione had entirely tuned out both of you; she focused entirely on flipping, rapidly, through Hogwarts: A History. Joke's on her, though, you had already read that through three times.
There wasn't a single mention of gargoyles or grotesques (you considered the fact that there was no water feature) in the entire thing.
Instead, you stepped a bit closer, clearing your throat.
Nothing but a statue.
You sighed before deciding to attempt to take drastic measures.
Again, moving forward, you came within touch range of the frozen statue, noting how the polished stone breasts lacked nipples.
You couldn't see between the legs, but you assumed, at least as a statue, that it lacked genitalia as well.
After all, what type of pervert puts a vagina on their Grotesque?
You slowly, carefully, reached a hand up. The podium was a good bit taller than you, so you were, despite the statue's minuscule size, at nearly eye level with one another.
Reaching up, you paused, just before your hand brushed against the other's stone cheek.
Was this impolite?
You looked towards Harry, who had turned to watch the muttering Hermione impassively.
It was important, at least, you hoped that whoever this was wouldn't take too much offence.
You moved forward a bit more, and your fingers brushed against the cool stone.
Then, you yelped, as something wrapped around your back, pulling you in. Your ribs compressed painfully against the edge of the stone podium, and you blinked, wheezing slightly, as the air was knocked out of you.
A cool, hard, clawed hand held your face, fingers tangling in your hair. Gray eyes and sharp teeth grinned down at you, as the suddenly very moving and alive statue held you in place with both her legs, locked behind your back.
.
--------->
.
" 'Ello there." She chirped, voice scratchy, rough, and carrying a heavy accent. "' Oo migh' you be, boyo?"
You blinked, even as Harry cried out, and you felt her hands tug at the stone legs holding you in place.
It wasn't very effective. You heard Hermione rattling off something, but you were more engaged in the Grotesque, whose large claws traced your cheek.
"E-eh? Sorry! I'm Herman."
That Grotesque nodded.
"I 'ee, I 'ee. And why might you be poking at me in my sleep, 'Erman? You something of a pervert or somethin'?"
You sputtered for a moment, unsure of how to answer.
You see the shark teeth and long, strong, writhing tongue that hung out the side of her mouth. Despite being almost certainly made out of stone, like the rest of her, the sinuous organ dripped with a viscous drool.
You felt it brush against your neck and shivered at the cold, wet trail it left.
Steeling yourself, you did your best to look serious, even as the sharp tip drifted over your carotid artery.
"We were sent here by Professor McGonagall." You began.
The statue smirked.
"Sure, sure. To do what 'xactly?"
The tongue slipped to the collar of your shirt, playing with the hem, before slipping beneath. You shivered as it pressed against your chest, leaving you cold and feeling somewhat violated. It pulled out relatively quickly, thankfully.
"W-we were told to report to Headmaster Dumbledore, to tell him about the troll-" You flinched, unwillingly, when the creature's jaws snapped shut next to your ear, but continued anyway. "-and to let him know that it was contained."
The Gargoyle leaned back, and for some reason, Harry's voice seemed so distant now. You could barely hear her.
You tried to look back, to see why, but the hand on your head tightened, just as the grin of the other widened once more.
"' Akes sense, yeh. Just lemme check that you're 'ellin' the truth, savvy?"
That seemed to make sense.
You nodded.
"Sure, but how-"
The Gargoyle leaned forward, her long tongue curling in front of her.
" 'Erfect, jus' like tha'"
And then, using her other arm, she grabbed the back of your head, pulling you in for a searing kiss.
That wasn't the most startling part, though..
What was startling was her long tongue overpowering your own quickly, the statue quickly exploring your mouth thoroughly. She tasted like an odd mix of mint and brimstone, and your eyes were wide as, for the first time, you were not the one leading this sort of kiss.
An odd feeling arose as she dug deeper, and you felt a warm hum before she was satisfied.
The Grotesque pulled away, tongue trailing behind her, going back into her own mouth, and leaving a trail of saliva connecting the two of you.
.
------------->
.
"Eyup, you're tellin' the truth. Good on ya, lad." She said.
You blinked dumbly.
"Taste pretty good too, lemme know if you ever wan' another turn, yeah? This tongue's good for more than just telling fib from fact." And she waggled her eyebrows, before finally releasing you.
You stumbled back, and there was a popping noise, and the lights and sound suddenly grew, and you felt a possessive, this time human, pair of arms surround you.
"Are you alright?!" Harry asked frantically.
You nodded, which was all the go-ahead she needed to stomp up to the now stationary statue, who'd slid aside, revealing a door.
"You-" She growled. "Dumbledore will hear about this!"
There was no response, although that stonework had frozen in place with a particularly smug smirk.
Upon seeing that her target wasn't going to respond, Harry growled before stomping back to you.
"What happened?" You asked, wearily.
"She put up some type of barrier; we couldn't get to you, but could see what she did very clearly."
Ah.
Well, that was awkward.
You tried to find a reason in what had happened out loud.
"Surely this is some sort of standard procedure."
Harry gave you a deadpan look. You looked away.
It was a stretch anyway.
"Let's go." She said, simply.
Walking forward, pulling you along.
You turned to look for Hermione, only to spot the brown-haired girl against the far wall, away from the Gargoyle, inching along.
Her face was pale, and her thighs pressed tightly together.
You recalled the situation you'd found her in and reasoned that perhaps some fear was understandable.
Just as you headed up the stairs, you were treated to the sight of the Grotesque unfreezing, just to turn to your cousin, and use the full length of her tongue to lick her lips.
Hermione squeaked and ran up the stairs past you. You could of swore you saw some shine coating her thighs.
You and Harry followed, and soon, you found yourself in Dumbledore's office.
And sitting at the desk.
The man himself. He blinked, looking up from the book her was reading. His long beard obscured almost all features on his face aside from the long nose and his small, beady eyes.
A thin sheen of sweat covered what visible skin you could see, as he quickly, urgently, tucked the book away.
"Why, hello there, what brings you here?" He asked with false joviality.
You came to stand beside Harry and Hermione, feeling a bit out of place.
You had never actually gotten the chance to go inside. Hadn't gotten in trouble enough to be sent there, and unlike Harry, he never called you in to chat.
It was… certainly something.
That was, really, the best way to describe Dumbledore's office.
Something.
It was large and carried the weight you expected from the office of the leader of a magic school.
But at the same time….
It was somewhat messy.
And not in the quirky, magical way that you expected for old sorcerers and Merlin types.
Across all the tables around the room, there were numerous dials, instruments made of silver, brass, and gold, that whirred in the quiet air. But also, there was discards teacups, plates with half-eaten cookies.
Empty bags dotted the floors, and the garbage can looked like it hadn't been emptied in months.
There were papers scattered everywhere, both covered in inked writing and entirely blank.
There was a bird resting on what looked to be a coat rack, in the corner, and a small bow of some type of feed nearby. There was a newspaper plastered across the ground below it.
The room smelt, faintly, of must, and somewhat of urine.
While superficially, it looked like a grand wizard's abode, it felt like your grandparents' room at the retirement home.
Dumbledore rocked slightly in his chair, and Hermione looked put off, wrinkling her nose. Harry, on the other hand, just looked bored.
The girl stood to the side, hips cocked in a way you'd never seen her stand before, with an impatient look on her face.
You stepped forward, feeling obligated to answer the Headmaster.
"The Troll, sir. It was dealt with."
There was a moment of silence. Dumbledore's eyes narrowed, and for a second, he seemed to focus in on you.
"What Troll?" He asked suddenly.
You squinted at him.
"The one in the dungeon-" You cut yourself off. "Sir, is there more than one troll in the school?!"
You heard Harry sigh behind you, but you didn't turn to see why. This was more important.
Instead, you stepped forward, towards the desk. Dumbledore didn't react, beyond staring at you. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead.
"There are no trolls in Hogwarts, my good sir. I'm still working on getting Ms. Lupin admitted." He said slowly.
Could he be…
Your eyes widened as you understood.
Headmaster Dumbledore was trying to maintain Hogwarts' reputation.
Before you could stop yourself, your mind followed his plan, and you understood the brilliance of it.
If it got out that Hogwarts had a Troll get past the wards, there would be public outcry. The people would lose faith in the education system. The school would be shut down. Millions of Muggle-born students would go without their lessons.
Dumbledore was trying to subtly tell you to keep quite about the ordeal.
But why be subtle about it…
Your eyes darted around.
Could it be…
Was someone spying on Professor Dumbledore?
The bird caught your eye once more. Particularly, it's glassy, black eyes.
Cameras, perhaps?
You tried to figure out the best way to word your next sentence, chewing your tongue.
"How…" You paused.
Dumbledore leaned forward, smiling happily. You could see the razor-sharp intelligence behind his eyes, as they twinkled in the light.
"Asking how is a fool's question, young man. After enough years, you learn that 'why' is by far the more valuable answer."
That made sense.
You bowed deeply to the man.
"Yes, Headmaster."
He was right. It didn't matter how they were listening in. You wouldn't be able to stop them anyway.
No, the important bit was why.
What could you talk about, and what did you need to avoid…
The Troll.
You couldn't afford to talk about the Troll. That's what they wanted to hear. Who…
The Ministry!
It…
It was so obvious.
The ministry, thought Albus Dumbledore too powerful, too unshakably good, for them to work with. It limited what shady action could be taken.
So they wanted to remove him, but they couldn't just fire him; he was too strong, so they needed a scandal.
What would be worse than a troll breaking in and sexually assaulting their students?
You nodded deeply at the Headmaster, no, at your teacher.
If the Ministry was trying to get rid of him now, that meant they were planning something bad.
Which meant that you absolutely could not mention the troll.
Or the statue.
Or the fairies.
Or…
You could only really talk about McGonagall's classes, really.
That was doable.
Smiling up at him, you knew what conversation to have.
"We just wanted to come let you know that Professor McGonagall's transfiguration classes have been going well."
You reached into your pocket, withdrawing the Platinum watch.
"I wanted to show you my progress."
You handed the offer, the professor took it gently, and examined it with an expert eye. You shot a side glance at the avian-shaped spy drone in the corner of the room.
As you did, Hermione sputtered, as did Harry.
"Excuse me!" The brown-haired girl nearly shrieked. "That is NOT why we are here. I did not-"
Dumbledore wasn't responding, staring at your watch instead. He trusted you to keep the others in line until you could explain to them the situation in a safe location.
You couldn't just cover her mouth normally; that wouldn't work properly. It'd be too obvious.
It galled you, disgusted you, truly, to have to do this, but you would have to take drastic, but subtle measures to silence Hermione.
Thankfully, she's already revealed her weakness.
Before another word could be spoken, you stepped forward, placing a hand on each of her shoulders.
"-come here for- What you doing-!"
You leaned down, and quickly, before she could spill any incriminating information, you pressed your lips to hers, swiftly slipping your tongue into her mouth.
Hermione's body stiffened, and a moan escaped her.
Before anything else could happen, though, there was a screech, and you were yanked away, and a short figure placed itself between you and a now blushing, wide-eyed, blubbering Hermione.
Harry stared up at you with angry eyes.
"NO!"
Dumbledore sighed.
"Ah, young love." As he did, Harry continued.
She turned to point at Hermione.
"No! No! No!" The first jab was aimed at her face, but the next to pointed at each of the brunette's large breasts.
She whipped back to you. Face red, hair red, eyes blazing green.
"No! Do not get taken in by her fat sacks of flesh, Herman."
Hermione shook herself out of it quickly.
"Hey!"
Harry didn't care.
"You're too good for her! Value yourself more than that! You deserve better than a woman with nothing of value to herself but flesh! Love, friendship, companionship." Harry paused, blushing, before continuing.
"Y-you should look for it from your closest friends, not people you've just met. A-and remember that gender is no barrier to true love, and there may be more, or LESS, under the pants, I mean, surface, than you think!"
From behind you, you heard Dumbledore hum in agreement.
"I wonder when Gellert is getting here…?"
She seemed hysterical at this point and was blushing quite heavily as she panted, pointing at you.
Harry understood, didn't she?
She knew that someone was watching, so she put on the act to distract from your earlier slip about the trolls.
Truly, your friend was a genius given form.
She'd taken it upon herself to set the stage.
You just needed to play your part.
You nodded.
"Harry, you're right!" You said firmly.
"I-I am? No, I mean, YES!"
"Love is more than just temporary feelings. I need to form a lasting bond with the person who is to be my partner."
"Yes!"
You turned to Hermione, a girl whom you had initially dismissed as good-looking with a horrible personality.
For the grand masquerade, though, that was insignificant.
"Hermione Dagworth-Granger." You said steadily, taking her hands in your own. From the corner of your eyes, you saw Harry's hands come up to grab her hair. She was so happy she had to restrain herself.
Hermione, who had been glaring at Harry, tried to yank her hands away.
"U-U-Unhand me, you pervert muggle-born. The books warned me about this! What you do to poor, virginal, well-endowed-" she seemed to break her stuttering to emphasize that part at Harry, "-Pure bloods such as myself. I won't have it." She looked about desperately. "The Headmaster won't let you."
Dumbledore smiled, leaning back in his chair as he removed something small, a brownie? From a small tin. It smelled quite pungent. He stuck it in his mouth and leaned back in his chair, not replying.
Hermione shrank under the non-reply.
You took it as your cue to continue.
"-As my cousin-" You were interrupted again. This time by both Harry and Hermione.
""WHAT?""
They were beginning to sound like a broken record.
"-will you become Harry and my new friend?"
Silence.
Only Dumbledore's chuckling filled the room.
Both girls were looking at you with wide eyes.
Naturally, you were good at this.
You were in the play when you were fifteen after all.
Dumbledore had gestured for you to leave shortly after that, and you led your two silent, shocked-looking classmates out the door, past the Grotesque, whom you gave a wide berth, and down the hall before they finally reacted.
After that, though, you had to explain what, exactly, you relation was with Hermione to the two flustered and very serious girls.
By the time you were done going through the research that your mom had gathered together, you were met with two very different reactions from the two girls.
Harry had seemed put out, where she had worn confusion and excitement at the prospect of, as she put it, "you being forbidden by societal norms from possibly dating a girl." she slumped over, muttering, when she learnt that the distance at which you were related was so great, that it had been difficult to even find the connecting line.
Hermione, on the other hand, seemed to get through two separate stages of reactions.
At first, she seemed uncomfortable and skeptical. She talked a lot about confirmation, blood potions, and heirship tests. But then she seemed to get oddly excited at the prospect of you being, as she put it, a possible option for future relations.
You'd been only slightly confused by the line, but the mention of it by the brunette seemed to set off an argument once more, Harry and Hermione each hugging an arm as they played tug of war with your body, as they fiercely debated over "how close is to close" and "The true connection that comes with blood."
For your part, you just smiled, as best you could, and nodded whenever you received stares in the hall.
One old student had taken one look at your situation, mimed a prayer for you, then left immediately.
You couldn't parse the meaning, despite your attempts, and soon, you were in the dining hall.
Classes had been cancelled for the afternoon, and McGonagall had declared that food would be served early, to "allow students to recover from their harrowing ordeal" with an early night's sleep.
She had said, in no uncertain terms, that school would be held tomorrow no matter what, much to the groaning dismay of some.
Hermione had, after a brief period of debate, ended up following you and Harry over to the Ravenclaw table, where she sat down, still discussing with Harry.
They had since moved off of you and onto other topics. Hermione was muttering something about House Elves and Secret Governments to Harry when there came the sound of a throat clearing from behind the lot of you.
Turning, you beheld Selene, the familiar Slytherin, standing what she almost certainly deemed a safe distance away, arms crossed, frowning.
Only, for once, she wasn't frowning at you; instead, her eyes were trained on Hermione, who had frozen, staring at her Housemate.
"Dagworth." She said tonelessly.
"Malfoy," Hermione replied.
There was silence again.
Thankfully, you knew just how to fix it.
"Ah, Selene!" You said cheerfully. You threw an arm around Hermione's shoulders, causing the other to blush, trying to shake you off to no avail. "You know my new friend Hermione?"
If anything, Selene's glare darkened, and she forwent her distance in favor of stomping up and removing your hand herself.
"Watch yourself, Granger. Personal space may be foreign to a mudblood, but do try to learn it." Harry nodded along, only freezing at the word mudblood.
"Besides," she continued, before hugging the sitting Hermione from behind, pressing her head into her breasts while smiling smugly. "She's my friend."
Well then.
Challenge accepted.
You felt your grin fade, and true irritation snuck up on you, and you couldn't help but frown a bit.
Selene had been abrasive and mean-spirited every time you had encountered her. Either teasing you and Harry, attempting to bully Luna, or otherwise just making a nuisance of herself.
So, you put a smile on your face that didn't match your eyes, before speaking.
"Better watch it, Malfoy." You began, before pulling Hermione in closer, giving her a side hug, much to the struggling girl's dismay. "After all, that's my cousin, AND new best friend you're assaulting. If you wanted attention, all you had to do was ask."
You had expected some form of rage, maybe a classic stomping of her feet. A 'Wait till my father hears about this'.
Selene did redden, and her hands, at her sides, curled into fists.
What you weren't expecting, however, was for her to pause, and her mouth to slowly close. The considering look that came across her face, as the redness drained, and she squinted at you, unnerved you, just a bit.
Selene turned to Hermione, who was still looking mortified to be in contact with a muggleborn, and was now jabbing you in the side to try and get you to let go.
"Dagworth." She said, voice strange, calm in a way it hadn't been since you'd seen her speak to Harry the first time on the train. It was almost… solicitous.
Hermione turned, face smoothing out.
"Malfoy." She greeted back.
Selene stepped forward, eye trained on her dormmate, although you saw her gray eyes shoot to you, quickly, before going back.
There was a gauging look in her eyes that you didn't like.
Evidently, neither did Harry, who glared up at her.
.
----------->
.
"Granger, he's related to you?"
Hermione paused, and you thought you could almost see the series of thoughts going through her head, trying to figure out what the blonde-haired girl was getting up to.
You were doing the same, but beyond your distant relation to Hermione, you couldn't find the line of thought the other was following. A look towards Harry revealed a scowl, but you could see the confused glance your friend shot to the side
Hermione, evidently, found something more in her words, and the frizzy-haired student's eyes narrowed into a glare.
"I haven't sent back to my family, yet, but as far as I am aware, Herman Granger is indeed associated with the Granger-Dagworth family. Offers are not being considered as of now."
Associated? Had you only told Hermione about the possible distant relation? Why was she talking as if you were some heir that was being threatened by marriage proposals now?
Malfoy just smiled, and it reminded you of the fake smile she would do when trying to tease you and Harry.
This time, though, there was a faint competitive edge to it. As if she'd just seen some sort of opportunity.
"I'd be happy to help you confirm the relation. The Malfoy family would be very interested in the results." She offered, puffing her chest out, as if she were offering to take a great burden.
Hermione, in that way you'd only seen purebloods do, smiled back, baring her teeth.
"No, thank you, Malfoy, I believe I should have it on my own."
They stared each other down, and you wondered whether you and Harry would have to break up some sort of fight.
Malfoy broke away first, though, and turned around.
"Very well, please keep me updated. I expect a full discussion once you get back to the dorm."
"I'll be sure to let you know as soon as something becomes relevant to the Malfoy family."
Hermione glared as Selene walked away, hips swaying from side to side.
"What was that about?" Harry asked, confused. The same question was on your tongue, and you both looked towards Hermione.
The bushy-haired girl frowned, though, before looking away.
"Just pure-blood stuff, you mug-" She paused. "You wouldn't understand, now get your arm off me already, Herman."
The rest of the Dinner passed without issue, and Hermione secured a promise to study together later, before you carted yourselves off to your respective dorms.
Something in your gut told you, though, that this was not the last you heard from Selene.
Later that night, you went back to the dorm.
You had half expected to be accosted by Luna, or one of your other friends, but nothing of the sort happened.
Instead, when you entered the dorm, you and Harry were pulled into a debate that was already raging in the common room, a spirited upper-year student standing in the middle, who was passionately ranting about the benefits of Trolls on the British Wizarding Economy, and why they should be more present in everyday life.
Her opponent was a rather solemn-looking first-year male, with large circles under his eyes. The younger student was holding up a book and shaking it vigorously as he delivered his rebuttal.
You and Harry were engaged to join a side, and you joined the younger students, while Harry sided with the upper years.
By the time the debate ended, it was near midnight, and everyone was laughing, but exhausted, so you trudged back to your dorm room, a light feeling in your chest and a smile on your face.
You got changed, quickly, ignoring Harry's squeak.
If the girl was so dead set on pretending to be a boy, then she could frankly deal with you changing like this. You'd resolved that a week ago, no longer bothering to wait until she was in the restroom.
For some reason, you got the sense that Harry didn't mind it, although she did stare quite a bit.
Once you were changed and in bed, Harry quickly did the same, and you both let the soft croons of Hedwig and the purring of Crookshanks lull you to sleep.