006.

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006. bah humbug, holidays are a scam !
















HONEY HAD certainly not expected a crying hermione granger in the hufflepuff common room, in fact- she hadn't actually figured out yet how hermione granger had gotten into the common room. their system was quite thought out, and honey had experienced even the smartest students getting drenched in vinegar because they thought they where above the hufflepuff common room entrance's security system. somehow hermione granger had in fact surpassed this, and maybe she was crying- but that was honey's main concern.

"how the fuck did you get here?" she said, sitting beside hermione, a bit astonished.

hermione let out a sniffle, rubbing the tears away from her face as a sobbing voice explained, "i tapped to the rhythm of helga hufflepuff on the barrel two of the bottom, middle of the second row and it let me in."

"but people always get the syllables wrong and do six instead of-"

"five," weeped hermione, seemingly still a source of knowledge even when sobbing (shit. honey should do something about that), "yes, i know, i'm not an imbecile and- could you pass me some tissues?"

honey did so, a bit robotic in her movements as she watched hermione dab her eyes with the tissue.

"thank you," hermione sniffled, seeming to calm down a bit, "as i was saying i watched another hufflepuff-"

"why are you crying?" she finally asked, she should have started with that question, but she'd been a bit preoccupied in wonder.

"you're so odd," hermione said, blowing her nose- no longer crying but still quite distressed, "most people don't start off asking how they got into a common room."

"ok- my fault. but why are you crying? are you, erm- okay?" she continued before rushing out a hurried, "you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

"it's ok," hermione said. she looked a sheepish as she admitted, "i came here because i didn't know where else to go- ron and harry pretty much would be everywhere else and i don't want them glaring at me and whatnot for being sensible."

"they're mad at you?" she frowned, "why?"

"i told mcgonagall about the firebolt harry got for christmas- oh yes, he got it for christmas with no note. it was only logical of me to assume that it might be cursed or tampered with. i told her, and she confiscated it and now they're mad at me."

"they're both mad at you because you're saving their life? there's... a mass murderer? and it's because of a broom?" frowned honey, "isn't potter a bit loaded? i heard he's bought out the trolley witch before."

"he did in first year," nodded hermione before glumly adding, "they always thought i was a bit weird- too smart or something. i should be used to it, i grew up thinking i was a muggle."

"i'm half-blood," honey added unhelpfully.

"right, you know about muggles, then? i grew up around muggles, went to primary school with them. i was the only black girl in my year- we were in this predominantly white area." she looked to the ground and frowned, "kids didn't want to be friends with me, and if they did their parents dissuaded them."

"you shouldn't be used to that," honey said, thinking back to when she'd went to a muggle primary school. sure, it had been a rural area. but there was at least more than one person of colour in her year. "muggles are a bit mental- sometimes lovely, but... the whole race thing? just as stupid as blood elitists. and ron weasley and harry potter... they're pricks if they care more about a broom than you and er, your friendship?"

[1] 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 ― h.potterWhere stories live. Discover now