Destiny Reversed

Chapter 8 Hermione

"Potter," Hermione said coldly, uttering his surname as if it was something distasteful on her tongue.

Harry was taken aback by this frosty greeting. He could rationalize why Ron disliked him at the moment, but Hermione? What'd he done to her?

"Er . . . something the matter?" Harry asked, unable to think of anything smarter to say.

Coolly, Hermione looked up from her book, snapping its heavy cover shut before addressing Harry. "Look, we may have to work together, but that doesn't mean I like you, Potter. I don't care if you've been trying to be nice to me to my face –you think I could ever forgive you for bewitching me, making me look like a fool in front of the entire school? I should think not," she said stiffly, turning away from him to read again, now determinedly ignoring him.

Frankly, this stunned him a bit. Why would Harry ever humiliate Hermione? But then, it was obvious they weren't friends here –maybe Harry had inherited the Marauder genes, and had gone too far on a prank. But from what he gathered from living with the Potters, Violet had actually been the one more prone to playing pranks on people, not Harry. Plus, whether this place's Harry was anything like him, he doubted he could ever do something as mean as Hermione was suggesting to someone unless they really deserved it.

Still, he couldn't help but feel hurt by Hermione's reaction to him. That made two best friends down on his count. Great, just bloody lovely, Harry thought dryly, sitting down on the seat opposite Hermione, It would have been wonderful to have Hermione's help on trying to get me home. Both her brains and familiar presence would have made things easier.

From the looks of things, he'd have to start from the bottom to repair whatever damage there was to his relationship with Ron and Hermione. He needed to get the two people he trusted the most to help him.

It was funny; when they had told him that they were going to help him find the Horcruxes, Harry hadn't wanted them to go at all in fear for their safety;, yet now, when he didn't have their support, he found himself seeking the friendship that had kept him grounded and sane through everything that had happened to him these past six years.

Better start at square one, then.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he said.

"So I've heard. I'm trying to read, Potter."

Harry held in a frustrated groan. Merlin, he didn't even know what he did to deserve all this hostility. The situation was really starting to piss him off –his friends, minus Ginny, hated him, there was hardly any information on anything useful, and going home didn't seem like a very probable option at the moment, considering he still didn't know where the bloody hell he was!

He bit his lip, knowing it'd be far too suspicious if he asked Hermione what exactly he'd done –being the brilliant witch that she was, she'd probably figure out something was wrong in the first five seconds, and Harry couldn't afford her finding out if she wasn't his friend, someone he could trust with the secret.

Instead, Harry slumped lower in his seat, brooding.

A few minutes later, a girl slid the compartment doors open. She didn't even have to say anything; Hermione seemed to know exactly what was happening, because she closed her thick book, got up, and trailed behind the girl. Harry quickly followed her lead, determined to try and use this position to his advantage. After all, the Head Boy ought to be privy to information that the student body wasn't, right?

Oh well, at least he'd actually be doing something –plus, the Head Boy and Girl have to do a lot of things together, right? Set schedules and all that? Maybe he could slowly gain Hermione back as a friend, or at least try to coax some information out of her about Harry's standing in Hogwarts. Find out who he can trust, what was going on, etc.