Diamonds

8. Can't Seem To Command It

Hermione didn't get the conversation she wanted until that Saturday. She had essentially managed to convince Harry to bring Ron to meet her and Draco in the library after his Quidditch game. She was busy with a rewrite of the essay Professor Flitwick had assigned them on enchanted fire and couldn't make the game, or at least that was what she had told them.

Really, she was researching Magical relations- specifically bonding rituals and historical connections to power. Apparently, the Malfoys' were a big deal, now and in earlier times, dating all the way back to the Norman Conquest of England in 1066. Armand Malfoy was gifted with land in payment by William the Conqueror for services rendered. She had no idea what those services were. Given the time frame and the King, it was probably related to warfare.

"Constantly close to power," she murmured, running her pen down the list of names she'd written, connecting Malfoy patriarchs to whoever called the shots at the time. Abraxas, who helped William I claim power, remained close to him all his life. The first Lucius, alive in the mid-1500s, supposedly attempted to woo Elisabeth I, the famously unwed Queen. And then Brutus had the ear of the first Minister for Magic, Ulick Gamp. And the trend continued. "And I'm not even a princess," she mused, tempted to laugh.

"No, seriously, what the hell was going on up there, Potter? You looked like you were trying to dance with your broom. Badly. Does that mean I should stay away from any Nimbus Two Thousands and stick to my Comet?"

"No way, Malfoy," Ron snapped. There was something odd about his tone, though- no animosity. Like a boy talking about sports, Hermione thought to herself. Neville followed them in, grimacing.

"Harry's broom got jinxed. Parvati's sister, Padma, Ravenclaw, she said so. She suggested so to Professor Flitwick and it stopped right then and there." He grinned at last. "But Harry caught the snitch! Gryffindor beat Slytherin!"

"Congratulations," she said, amused. She gestured for everyone to take a seat around the table she had settled in at, moving a stack of books from the chair beside her. Draco took that seat, while Neville claimed the end of the table.

"No, Hermione, you're meant to cheer or something. The other Houses congratulate you, you're a Gryffindor after all." Draco was trying not to laugh, pulling a book towards himself to look through. In the mean time, Harry and Ron took the seats across from them, but didn't pull back towards the desk. Hermione really had her work cut out for her. I should lower my expectations.

"Why am I meant to cheer? I don't care."

"See, this is why you're only friend is the school bully and the wimp. No offense, Neville."

"What?" Neville seemed genuinely confused.

"Ron. I don't understand why you're so insistent on claiming that Draco's mean. Really, the only person to have insulted me at all since we got on the train is you."

"I-"

"Never mind. I have an offer for you."

"Oh, this'll be good."

She rolled her eyes. "It has to do with you and Harry leaving me alone. And Draco. And Neville obviously gets a pass, it's hardly his fault that I'm not good enough for you and Draco's not whoever you want him to be."

Ron's ears turned pink. "That's not what I meant. That's not what I've ever meant! Of course you're not- you're not not good enough. I mean-"

Neville was staring at him. "Even I think you just shoved your foot in your mouth, Ron. Maybe let Hermione speak?"

"We never- I didn't- why are you here? Why is Neville here?"

"Neville's my impartial observer. An outsider. He's not in this silly war you've started, Ron Weasley, so he can decide if what I have to suggest is fair."