Contingent | D.M. + H.G.

Chapter 10: Inadequate

A/N: Betawork done by AlmondMilkTeaDoubleBoba and LeilahMoon.

xoxo, carmen

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A familiar shade of red that she'd only seen in passing over the last few weeks flashed in her peripheral. Feeling the other side of the sofa she was seated on dip under the weight of another person, she looked up from the book she was reading in front of the fire. "Hey, Ginny," she sighed, moving her gaze back to the words. At this point, they were all blurring together - it was near pointless to continue, but she tried anyway. "What are you doing up?"

It was late - most people were in bed, save for a small group of fourth years at the corner table trying to finish a paper. Hermione would never understand how people left such important things to the last minute. If the stress didn't kill her, she'd do herself in just from being so unorganized. When she'd been their age, everything had been finished at least two weeks in advance.

"Same as you I suppose," her friend said. Even though she sounded tired, Hermione could hear the implied joke - there was no book in her hands.

"Ha ha, very funny," she retorted, giving a wry smile and rolling her eyes. "Really though, what's up? Last time I saw you up this late was that party after the Quidditch scrimmage." Hermione slid a bookmark in, closing the book and setting it aside, choosing to forego the memory of what happened at - or more importantly, after - that party. Remembering the intensity of his eyes and the ghost of his fingers on her skin in combination with her proximity to the fire in the common room made her hot. Wrapping her hair into a messy topknot, she pushed the sleeves of her sweatshirt up.

Hermione felt bad - all of her time in the last few weeks had been dedicated to either collecting intel on a certain supposed Death Eater, or her schoolwork. It had almost been a relief to avoid Harry, not that she'd ever admit it. Having a break from his antics gave her more than ten seconds to herself, to breathe and do things her own way. She hadn't planned on avoiding him for this long - everything had just gotten away from her. Her anger had almost completely subsided by now but, if she was being truthful, it was a conversation she was avoiding. She did miss him though, and planned on talking with him - as soon as she found the time and energy.

Her friend suddenly looked uncomfortable. "I know you're not going to like this, but... I'm here because of Harry." She was twisting her fingers in her nap nervously, not meeting Hermione's eye.

"Yeah, I saw that one coming." This was just like him. "Don't worry Ginny, I'm going to talk to him." The signs of relief sunk into her friend's face, relaxing her features. "You do understand why I'm so angry with him, right? I understand why he felt he needed to pull something, but it was just so dangerous," she said, shaking her head.

"I do, Hermione," Ginny agreed. "But come on - it's Malfoy. We all know what he's capable of - he is second in your year after all - and no one trusts him. Harry really felt he was acting in self defense. He's not one to just lash out like that," she pleaded before hesitantly continuing. "I know about what you and Harry discussed a few weeks ago with trying to get into Malfoy's head, and–"

"He told you?" Hermione seethed. "We agreed to keep it between us." Her anger was bubbling again, but she needed to not direct it at Ginny.

"I know, and I'm not going to tell anyone. We both know how my brother's temper can be, but I swear on my magic that I'll keep it a secret. No one else needs to know."

Hermione looked around carefully to see if anyone had caught wind of their conversation. The three heads were still bent over their parchment, scribbling away furiously. Still, she kept her voice low.