𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗼𝗰𝗸, harry potter

˗ˋ 60

CHAPTER SIXTY
✧
-: fifth year :-

── IN WHICH HERMIONE 
PROPOSES SOMETHING

. . .

Harry hadn't expected Ron and Hermione to be waiting up for him when he finally got back to the common room. It was almost an hour after Aviana and his detention had come to an end and... he was left feeling odd.

There was something entirely terrifying about it, and it unnerved him, that idea that somehow he was still so angry and Aviana had been pushed to the edge. Although, he supposed, there was that difference he could see so plainly between them; that more often than not - and he didn't not blame her for it one bit after considering all the factors - Aviana went looking for the trouble Umbridge gave her.

And considering just how witty and sarcasm-filled each remark was, it didn't surprise him that it all, all the late night detentions, and the pain of her hand that was engraved with her own handwriting, and the simple fact that in the past few months, everything Aviana knew about her life had gone to shit. Her father had been convicted of killing muggles, watch him get sentenced to life in Azkaban, her mother had left her alone in - well, that he had heard - a particularly large, particularly empty, mansion and she had found out that she had been lied to for the entirety of her life.

Of course she would be overwhelmed, but he hadn't expected to see it. To see her cry, to stand there before her and realise that the person he had known was different to who had thought she was... it confused him. He had been quite happy with the plan to annoy Umbridge even more, but that had only ignited something within him that he would try do anything to put out, but that night he had truly seen that if anything, Aviana was just human, that she was more than this perfect image of a girl she put on, that she wasn't just some far-away Slytherin who merely disliked him for who he was.

She was so much more, and he felt awful for not seeing it sooner, because explained that unnerving feeling he got every time he saw her of something new and familiar and nice.

But Aviana  was nothing like he had expected, really. 

And as he walked into the common room, seeing Hermione and Ron waiting for him, it ignited some sort of seeping disappointment, which alleviated somewhat when the look upon Hermione's face seemed to be something more of concern than critical of his behaviour.

"Here." Hermione motioned anxiously, pushing a small bowl of yellow liquid toward him, "soak your hand in that, it's a solution of strained and pickled # tentacles, it should help."

"No, it's fine. Aviana has a balm." Harry murmured, holding up his newly bandaged hand. "Does it keep?"

"Yeah... it should do." Hermione nodded slowly. "I'll put it in a vial. The balm... probably has some of the same stuff in." She hummed, eyeing the bandages on his hand. 

"I still reckon you should complain about this," Ron said in a low voice. He hadn't seemed to have notice the wariness that Hermione displayed, pushing the bowl of murtlap essence to the side so he could rest his feet on the coffee table.

"No," Harry replied, flatly.

"McGonagall would go nuts if she knew-"

"Yeah, she probably would, like any sane person." Harry nodded. "And how long d'you reckon it'd take Umbridge to pass another Decree saying anyone who complains about the High Inquisitor gets sacked immediately?"  He could hear Aviana's tone and ideas reflecting in his own voice. Harry swallowed, cleared his throat, and shrugged. "There's a reason no teachers know about this."