Work Text:
The owl that came to her parents window before the start of the school year was the color of freshly turned dirt and flew up to her with an air of pride that she hadn’t seen another owl possess outside of families that came from very old money.
Hermione was gentle as she untied the letter from around its leg and when the envelope was freed, she’d reached into the bag of owl treats that were by the kitchen window to offer to the tired bird. Just like Padma’s owl had, the school’s owl seemed particularly happy with the quality of the treats and pecked at her hand softly for another.
“You’ve already gotten your treat!!” She laughed, but reached to give it another before it flew back to Scotland’s skies.
The envelope felt heavier in her hands this year as she turned the envelope around in her hands to gaze at the Hogwarts crest that was stamped into the wax seal. Her fingers traced the indentations in the wax as her heart gave a nervous thump in her chest. Hermione broke the seal and slid the papers out of the envelope.
The first letter contained the normal list of materials which she would be required to bring with her as she boarded the Hogwarts express in September, but the second was addressed to her from Headmistress McGonagall.
As she read it, her hand which was not holding the letter, was covering her mouth in pleasant surprise. Although she had dreamed and desired this moment throughout her early years of Hogwarts, she never actually let herself believe it would happen.
She lowered the letter from her eyes, placing it on the kitchen counter with extreme gentleness as if just making contact with something that wasn’t her own hand would cause it to burst into flames.
“Hermione?” Her mother asked, walking into the kitchen. Dr. Granger was no doubt confused to be finding her daughter staring at the countertop that she had been used to seeing since she was a very little girl.
Hermione could only gesture at the letter sitting before her on the counter. Her mother’s brows moved in confusion as she crossed the room to read over Hermione’s shoulder. Her straight blonde hair was pressed against Hermione’s chestnut curls as she hugged her shoulders.
She could feel the moment that her mother had reached the point in the letter, heart bursting with pride. “Congratulations!” Her mom embraced her in a warm, all-encompassing hug.
Hermione grabbed the badge to show her, holding it out for her to take. Her mother’s eyes were shining with silver as she traced the badge the same way Hermione had traced the Hogwarts crest. She glanced up from it, her eyes sparkling and moved forward to pin the badge to Hermione’s jumper.
“Look at that!” Her mother beamed. “Hogwarts's new Head Girl!”
000
Harry Potter had always been something of an enigma to Hermione. He was quiet and content to let the other Slytherin’s in his house showboat while he watched. His eyes were always tracking across the room - people, information, or just the changing weather. What Hermione knew about him amounted to the same information that anyone would be able to gather from observing Harry for all of a day, regardless of the fact that they had gone to school together for many years.
He was the Slytherin quidditch captain, had been since their 5th year and very much deserved to be. She would never admit to it out loud, but Harry was one of the best quidditch players she had ever seen, including those in the professional match that Padma had dragged her to.
His two closest friends were Theodore Nott and, oddly, Neville Longbottom. From what she had seen over their years together, he was fiercely loyal to the both of them. In their 1st year, Neville had been bullied quite badly by some of the others within his house. Harry, in his signature way, had pulled a move that garnered everyone’s attention and would never be given an explanation for.
He’d walked into the great hall and instead of going towards the Slytherin table had made a direct line to Neville. Harry had sat down beside the other boy, said a few things and within minutes Neville was laughing. Theo had come in not 10 minutes later, he’d done a double-take at the Slytherin table and when he’d realized that Harry wasn’t there, had swung his gaze to the Gryffindor table.
Theo had merely rolled his eyes and taken a seat across from them. From that point on, if dinner wasn’t an official school event that required house sorting, the group of three would bounce between the two tables. More often than not, they would make themselves home amongst the Slytherin’s as the Gryffindor’s did everything they could to make them feel unwelcome, but it never stopped them from sitting there either.
The other thing that Hermione had gathered, sitting across from her in the Headmistress’s office, was that he was the Head Boy. It shouldn’t have been surprising, Harry was a natural leader and people were always looking to see how he reacted before reacting themselves, but Hermione hadn’t ever seen him show an interest in the Head Boy position. She’d thought that he would’ve been busy enough leading his quidditch team.
“You will both be in charge of organizing the prefect’s schedule on top of the other duties we’ve discussed.” Headmistress McGonagall was saying, her Scottish lilt echoing around the room. “Your dormitories are connected with a shared common room that should act as an office for any official prefect meetings or private discussions as students. You will each receive the password for it from me, though your individual rooms will be keyed to whatever password that you set for it.”
Hermione nodded her understanding under the older woman’s intense gaze. She was excited but the idea of working so closely with someone she had only had a few conversations with was incredibly daunting.
Harry, meanwhile, was sitting with his perfectly pressed robes and an expression that hid any thoughts he could have on the matter. At the feeling of her gaze, his green eyes flicked over to her and she quickly looked away before she could see the quizzical raise of his brow.
“Do either of you have any questions or statements that should be addressed ahead of the start of term?” McGonagall’s words hung in the air for a few seconds.
“I don’t believe so, Headmistress.”
000
Their shared common room had become a haven for Hermione as they settled into the new school year. She still absolutely adored the Ravenclaw common room with its high ceilings that reflected the stars and towering book cases, but she couldn’t rest in it without any number of students wishing to speak with her about something. Truthfully, the same could be said of any location within Hogwarts.
It seemed that the majority of Hogwarts students had decided that she was the more approachable of the Head Boy and Girl. They weren’t wrong.
It wasn’t that Harry didn’t do his duties, in fact, most of the meetings that they held with the prefects were led by Harry. However, if Harry wasn’t speaking to one of his friends he seemed to wear a permanent scowl that scared off many students before they could approach him.
As a result, Hermione had begun to hide in their common room to gain any semblance of peace.
It was early evening and Hermione had completely taken over the floor in front of their fireplace. Books were sprawled around her in rays as she sat on the floor with her back leaning against one of the cushioned chairs. She was balancing her parchment on her legs while she revised for her ancient runes class.
She was quite focused on one passage in particular that she missed Harry’s entrance into the room entirely.
“Why are you on the floor?”
Hermione started. Harry stood at the entryway to the room and was gazing down at where she was sitting. Her eyes caught the practice jersey that fit snuggly across his chest and the way the fabric stretched across the arm that was currently holding his firebolt.
“I’m studying,” she answered, pulling her gaze back down to her revision.
Harry leaned against the other chair, body responding so fluidly that anyone would easily guess he was an athlete.
“I would presume that the library would be a better place for that than on the common room floor?” His voice was rich with amusement and deep in the way it always was, vibrating through the air as if in a dance.
Hermione shrugged, afraid to look up so that he might see the warmth that she was sure was taking over her face at his attention.
“At the very least, the chair might be more comfortable for you?” He gestured to the chair she was leaning her back against.
“The chairs are too comfortable and I’m afraid that I will fall asleep if I try to -” She cuts herself off to gesture at the books around her. “The floor keeps me awake.”
“Again, the library would be a more efficient place for that, no?”
“Nobody bothers me when I’m in here.” She’d meant to say it with nonchalance, attempting to mimic his own inflection but it comes out as more of a confession. “Does it bother you?”
She forces her eyes up to where he’s standing, posed like an artist might come to paint his portrait. He looks troubled for a moment but shakes his head.
“No, of course not.”
She nods, convinced that the issue is resolved and pulls the books closer to her on the floor.
“Who is bothering you in the library?” His tone is one that she’s never heard from him before and catches her off-guard enough that she turns to face him again.
“It’s not really one person in particular,” She pauses. “I think students are more comfortable coming to speak with me about issues they’re having, which of course I don’t mind, but I haven’t really been able to study recently. I don’t want to fall behind.”
Harry’s expression eases but his green eyes are swirling with calculation.
000
Hermione had thought that their conversation had been resolved after Harry had bid her goodnight and gone to shower off his sweat. Instead, the following day as she walks out of her final class for the day, Harry is waiting for her in the corridor.
He straightens when he sees her walk out of the classroom and heads straight for her, his badge shining against his chest.
“Harry?” She asks, as he strides to her and pulls her books from her arms into his own.
“Come with me.” He doesn’t leave any time for her to disagree and begins to guide her through the crowds of students which part for him in a way that they never seem to do for her.
His hand, which is not occupied with carrying her books, is wrapped around her own, cradling it with a gentleness that she would not have expected from him before this. Hermione wonders if he’s even aware of it. But then, he has to be with the way that he angles his shoulders as he leads her through the hallways so that if anyone were to brush her shoulders they would have to slam through his first.
She isn’t sure that she blinks as he leads her through the library doors, past the desk at the front, towards a wooden table that faces a stained glass window. He sets her books down on the table and pulls out a chair for her, looking up at her with his startling green eyes.
He waits for her to sit down before taking the chair across from her and pulling his own books out of the bag that she hadn’t realized he had been carrying. It’s only when his quill begins to scratch across his parchment that Hermione’s mind begins to move her muscles to do the same.
It takes her a bit of time to focus. Her eyes keep wanting to fly back to Harry to figure out his actions, but eventually she allows herself to sink into the familiar cadence of the library. The sounds of turning pages, soft breathing, and an occasional sharp line of quill against parchment provide a soundtrack that relaxes her as nothing else does. She works as all Ravenclaw’s do, drawing connections and circling around familiar
ideas but pictured through a new perspective.
Harry proves to be an ideal companion in the library. He never interrupts her train of thought but is quick to move his ink if her book brushes too close to it without her noticing it. He hums slightly under his breath when he draws a connection, quick to follow it up by notating it across the notes in front of him.
He’s taken off his outer robes and rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to bare his forearms. It’s distracting enough that Hermione has to keep her head down entirely to avoid the image.
Best of all, she hasn’t been interrupted by a single student. Harry’s rather intimidating persona doing its diligence at keeping all away might distract her from the material in front of her.
She fidgets with her quill as she thinks it over.
Hermione doesn’t think that she’s ever seen Harry in the library with someone who wasn’t Neville or Theo. He doesn’t change tables, it’s always this one - the table before the stained glass window. He sits in the same seat, the one across from her, and he chooses the same time of day to enjoy it.
Hermione glances around. Nobody is looking at her but for the first time since Harry had guided her to the seat she’s in, she can feel the weight of everyone’s attention on her.
“Harry,” she says, drawing his attention up. “Is it ok for me to be here?”
He frowns, “What do you mean?”
Hermione’s eyes fixate on the strand of hair that falls down his forehead, away from the normal mess of his curls. It makes him look younger, in a way she hasn’t seen since before their fourth year.
Hermione leans forward, like if she whispers it to him that it will keep anyone from noticing that she’s sitting there.
“You don’t ever invite people to study with you.”
Harry’s shoulders relax and his expression is very matter-of-fact, “ You said that people were bothering you in the library. Now they’re not.”
Hermione blinks.
“It just seems that if they need to bother you with something that they may as well bring it to my attention.” He says this in a way that’s completely relaxed. She wonders if he’s been thinking about this since last night or if he just decided during their conversation that this was the solution and put it out of his head until it was time to study.
“Oh.”
Harry’s gaze flickers to the clock that hangs in the center of the room and begins to gather his things. “It does seem that I have quidditch practice starting soon. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like, I shouldn’t think anyone would bother you.”
He was probably right, she realized.
“I’ll see you back in the common room?” He asks, pulling the strap of his bag onto his shoulder, his other hand moving to push his curls back from his eyes.
Hermione nods and Harry leaves, his invitation to stay rattling around her head. It was a gift that Harry had given her, to remain in a space that he had carved out for himself and feel no need to leave it just because he was no longer there to maintain it. She was free to take advantage of the peace.
She wondered if this was what being one of Harry’s friends felt like. If Theo and Neville just one day found that life was a little more bearable because Harry cared enough to make sure they were comfortable.
She wondered if that meant that they were friends.