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The Catalyst

Chapter 26: The Catalyst

As Harry Potter's best friend, Hermione was privy to certain pieces of exclusive information about him. His favorite things, his strengths, his weaknesses, his beliefs, his numerous demons – she was a walking database for all things Harry Potter, though it was all locked away securely in the ironclad vault that was her logic-driven brain.

Until today, of course. Because today marked the first time she visited said vault for the less-than-admirable purposes of bending him to her will.

"Have you talked to Slughorn yet?"

He barely glanced up at her.

"Not yet."

Of course you haven't, she thought, silently fuming as she ran through an enumerated list of his defining characteristics.

There was his almost crippling hero complex, for one. His need to save others and his compulsion to put them before himself.

Not relevant, she thought, dismissing that observation with a shrug.

There was his duty to his parents' memory. His need to be loved. His desire to understand where he came from. His incurable longing for family.

His blinding protectiveness of his friends. His recklessness that stemmed from an unadulterated willingness to sacrifice himself for those who matter. That, and his general theology that everyone matters.

His tendency to show mercy where it wasn't deserved. Perhaps that would factor in at the end of all this, she thought with a grimace.

His incapacitating ability to love.

His quick temper and his touchy pride. His hasty trigger finger without much forethought.

His general opposition to schoolwork. His minor, limited exception to that generality, made for a brief time that year in Potions.

His general disregard for personal appearance. His messy hair, his untucked shirt, his scattered possessions, his schoolbag, like that of a disorganized hoarder –

Her eyes slid to the satchel at his feet as she frowned slightly, considering her theory.

"I'm going to talk to him, Hermione," Harry said, interrupting her thoughts while being completely oblivious to her wandering gaze. "I just haven't figured out how yet."

She tried to make a throaty sound of approval but settled for clearing her throat and nodding. She suspected that there was an easy way to go about forcing him to follow through with this task, if she was right about what was currently in his possession.

"Right," she said, echoing her agreement while glancing around the Great Hall, searching desperately for a distraction.

She fought back a triumphant smile as distraction walked right in, taking the enviable form of Draco Malfoy. Despite her wealth of knowledge on the complexities of Harry Potter, it didn't take someone of her privileged position to know that he could be counted on for a reaction to his pale-haired nemesis – and it certainly didn't hurt that she understood that dynamic clearly from both sides. Malfoy was walking comfortably with Theo Nott and Blaise Zabini, and despite the fact that he was not doing anything particularly suspicious, she could be comfortably assured that he, too, was reasonably predictable.

She leaned in quickly, whispering in Harry's ear. "Did you see that?" she asked, gesturing to Malfoy, who had done little more than head toward the Slytherin table.

She saw his eyes snap instantly to Malfoy's face. "See what?" he said, instantly alert.

"Um – the, uh – he's – "