The Confectionary Chronicles || HP/SPN

Sweets and Studies- Ch17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN:

Millicent Bulstrode had never had a friend quite like Hermione Granger. She'd never really had a friend before, though, so she wasn't sure if Hermione was a normal friend or if she was as strange as she seemed.

It was probably the latter.

Hermione was bright and beautiful and almost fey-like in how wild and seemingly carefree she was as she skipped her way around the castle, yet whiplash-fast she could suddenly turn around be quiet and studious as a Ravenclaw, the perfect dedicated student with her entire attention fixed on a professor as she took notes or wrote an essay, all her wildness tucked away.

When she'd challenged Malfoy to a duel, Millie had felt her heart stutter in her chest at the sight of her friend baring her teeth in a grin that had the Darker part of her heritage sit up and take notice; the part that liked rarer meats and the sweet smell of her roommates, the part that looked at Hermione Granger and thought predator, that looked at Hermione's owl and thought flames.

With one side of her face painted red with drying blood and the other side pale as bone in the dim light of the round, greenish lamps, Hermione had looked like something out of one of the fairy-tales Millie's mama told her, the real fairy-tales, the old ones with truth in their cracked bones and madness in their spilled blood. After all, fairy-tales weren't happy stories, Millie knew, especially not for the villain and Millie was half-monster.

She'd always known what her future held; she'd been promised a Hogwarts education by a father who just wanted the embarrassment of her existence to be out of sight and out of mind, she'd be Sorted into Slytherin because she was half-hag and too angry and bitter to ever fit anywhere else, she'd be looked down on as a half-breed during her schooling years, and when she graduated hopefully she'd having marks good enough that she'd be able to get a job with half-decent pay in Diagon Alley or the Ministry, despite her status. Anything to get out of Knockturn Alley.

And then Hermione Granger had happened. The cheerful, dark tanned girl with bright eyes and a brighter smile who wore bells and flowers woven into her braided curls had whirled into Millie's life like a tornado, bringing chaos in her wake. Chaos and three boys with red-and-gold ties, including one who smiled so shyly at Millie and must know what Millie was, must know about the gossip considering who her father was, but when Hermione has introduced them he'd still held her hand and called her Millie.

Hermione might bring chaos, but Millie... well, she didn't think she actually minded it. Because Hermione might be chaotic on a good day, and she might be suspiciously good at magic for a muggleborn, but she was Millie's first ever friend and she'd introduced Millie to her second ever friend and she'd accepted Millie without question or hesitation.

Just like Neville, Hermione had never once flinched away from Millie's touch. She never failed to throw herself into Millie's space, hugging Millie and wrapping an arm around her and resting her head on her shoulder. Millie had a feeling Hermione had noticed how shocked Millie was whenever anyone touched her and had made it her mission to touch Millie as much as possible. It seemed like the sort of thing Hermione would do. Even when she'd slipped up and mentioned seeing someone die by poisoning and had to reveal that she lived in Knockturn Alley, Hermione hadn't looked all horrified and aghast, she'd just looked sad then determined. Millie liked that, and she liked how Hermione's magic had crackled at her fingertips as she squeezed her hand tight, like she was branding a promise into Millie's skin.

It was the same way she so casually slid the golden hairpin into Millie's hair, staking her claim and declaring her friendship for all of the Slytherins sitting at the House table to see. Showing how she valued Millie, above how a half-breed like Millie should be valued. Millie wondered if Hermione even knew what she'd done, if she knew the statement she made to their Housemates.