Friendly Competition

[1] Tea & No Sympathy

"Come on Hermione, you could at least try to be more sympathetic," Harry wheedled at his stone-faced friend. "You're the one who's punched him in the face!"

"I believe you've done the same thing. Multiple times," Hermione responded (in a notably unsympathetic fashion), and took a slow sip of her tea. By this point in their conversation — exhaustively going back and forth over the same exact things for the nth time — it was beginning to grow cold.

Still, she was here, sat on Harry's sofa after a long day at the Ministry, once again doing her best to calmly sit and listen to him rant, and hopefully help him through all the changes happening in his life as of late. It was her turn, after all. She and Ron had been tag-teaming it rather effectively if she did say so herself, but Ron had taken it last time, and besides, he was out on field duty for a case tonight anyway.

Frankly, she was certain she and her husband had completely opposite approaches to the situation, because Ron had never grown out of his hatred for Malfoy either, so she was sure he mainly just commiserated with Harry's misfortune. But she also knew he wouldn't go without trying to encourage him to behave anyway (after all, he had grown and she was proud of him. Though it was still much easier to give the advice than to be in the situation yourself, and she doubted he'd be much different than Harry were they to switch shoes right now).

To be quite honest, she wasn't sure she'd ever forgive that prejudiced, snot-nosed little git for everything he'd done to them — to her — either.

She was sure he had changed (trusted that McGonagall wouldn't have hired him had he not, since she had never been as soft as Dumbledore, nor had she ever been particularly fond of Malfoy to begin with), but that didn't change the things he'd done, and it didn't mean she wanted to forgive him for it. It didn't mean he deserved it. But she could be the bigger person when necessary. Cordial didn't necessarily have to mean friendly; it was just that, for Harry, it did. He wasn't good at putting on a fake face or swallowing down his emotions.

But, still, that didn't change the reality of the situation he was about to find himself in, and constantly fighting with Malfoy would only make the whole situation worse.

"You're both going to be teachers, Harry," she reminded him evenly. "You can't go around bickering all the time in front of the students — or," she added, before Harry could interrupt, "away from the students. You'll never be able to hide it from everyone and it's horribly unprofessional."

"And," she continued, "do you really want to draw more attention to yourself for that? I know you hate being Harry Potter and having everyone up your arse, so do you really want students writing home about what Harry Potter's done now? Wouldn't it be better to just be normal and not cause any fuss? I doubt he's eager to cause any fuss either, being a known Death Eater — I'm sure parents are already quite unhappy with his placement and he very well knows that and won't want to make it any worse for himself."

She sighed before going on, "You were hoping for this to be a change of pace from the Auror corps, weren't you? How is it going to be a less stressful job if you're constantly rowing with Malfoy?"

Harry crossed his arms and sulkily conceded, "Fine. I'll do my best, but if he starts it I can't make any promises."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Just be an adult, Harry." She took another sip of her tea and grimaced slightly, as it had now gone fully cold. The sacrifices she made in the name of friendship. She set it aside on the table and crossed her legs, looking back over at Harry. "I think this change of pace will do you good, you know. If you commit to it properly, that is."

"I thought it would too," Harry grumbled. "'Til I heard about that git showing up."

Hermione waved a dismissive hand. "Stop being so pessimistic; you've not even gotten there yet, and your whole experience doesn't have to revolve around him. All going well, he'll just be an awkward little sidenote buzzing 'round the edges and that's all. Just focus on your classes, alright? Merlin knows, you do terribly without something to fixate on, and you need to stop fixating on Ginny and moping about already."