requirement | dramione

0.18

november 9, 1996

The second Saturday of November, Hermione sat in the Great Hall for breakfast. The sky above was beautifully pale blue: a good omen. The Gryffindor table was bubbling in a frenzy of red and gold to represent their house. Harry was grinning, despite his nerves for his first match as captain. Next to her, Ron anxiously rapped his foot against the floor, bouncing his legs in a chaotic frenzy. 

"Ron, here," Harry said, passing a cup of pumpkin juice over the table. Hermione looked up from the paper she had been reading, eyeing Harry from across the table. The boy with glasses seemed, somehow, both calm yet excited. Ron took the drink while Harry watched with wide eyes, fringe from his dark hair just barely falling onto his glasses. In his other hand, which rested against the table, Hermione caught sight of a small glass vial. Inside the tiny glass, liquid gold seemed to swirl in circles. 

"Don't drink that!" Hermione spoke sharply, eyes wide as she stared at Harry as though she could not believe her eyes. 

"Why not?" Ron's face grew more worried, if that was possible, and he flickered between Harry and Hermione. 

"Harry, you didn't!" Hermione's tone was admonishing, but she was too late. She glanced to Ron, beside her, and he was already sipping. "You're joking! You could be expelled for that!" 

Harry had slipped Ron Felix Felicis, she was sure of it. Hermione didn't hesitate to tell both boys that it was "seriously dangerous" and "extremely against the rules" but Harry shrugged her off. 

"Hark who's talking," Harry retaliated, his eyes drilling into the witch, "Got in anymore fights, have you?" 

Hermione's lips drew to a flat line, silenced by Harry's brute truth. She glanced between boys, entirely bothered, but interested in the effects of Liquid Luck. 

Hermione stole a long glance at the redhead. Ron started to smile, suddenly ready to play the match that he had been dreading. His cheeks were warm and his eyes were almost sparkling. No matter how Hermione disliked their blatant rule breaking, she did not often get to see Ron like this. Almost dappy, but excited and assured. 

The young witch recalled the way Ron had stuck up for her yesterday against Malfoy. Both Hermione and Ron knew that Ron was no match for Malfoy, but that did not deter Ron's efforts. Ron, though he came off as a bit of a scared child, was truly very brave. He was someone who would always do his best to stand up for the people he loves, especially Harry and Hermione. He was ferociously loyal and forward with his thoughts. 

He was nothing like Draco Malfoy. 

Hermione, for just a moment, caught herself admiring the warm smile on Ron's face. Her heart fluttered, not with specific lust for Ron, but with the desire to be loved by Ron; to always feel his protection and loyalty; to always trust in him. 

She diverted her eyes, staring down at the table in a sudden wave of embarrassment. 

Soon enough, Ron and Harry had stood from the table. Hermione wished them both good luck before they headed to the Quidditch Pitch, still chastising Harry. As she exited the Great Hall the young witch found Neville, who began explaining the properties of Alihosty, a species of magical tree, which include causing uncontrollable laughter in whoever might consume it. 

Draco, who sat on the far side of the Slytherin table, went unnoticed. The untouched breakfast on his plate left him with no appetite. He sat alone, feeling very cold, but his eyes were glued to that brown haired know-it-all as she ambled through the Great Hall with Longbottom. Draco shoved his plate away from him, spewing silverware across the table, angry for even allowing himself to look.