Check on Hermione

In the end, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave a girl crying all alone in a bathroom. Even if you were one of the people that Hermione Granger wanted to see the least, maybe you could get her to stop crying by giving her an opportunity to yell at you or boss you around.

You once again caught Daphne Greengrass’s eye as you walked right by the Slytherin table. The mystery-loving girl had clearly downplayed her curiosity over ‘the case of the missing muggleborn’ and looked highly annoyed when you didn’t immediately come over to tell her what you had learned. Instead, you gave the girl a jaunty wave before you left the Great Hall with Millicent still trailing behind you.

“Listen, Marvolo, I’ll come with you,” Millicent said, “But answer me one question first… do you have a thing for Granger?”

“What? No!” you immediately denied.

“Then why do you care if she’s crying in a bathroom?” Bulstrode questioned as you made your way to the first floor girls’ bathroom. “She’s not even your friend.”

“She’s not,” you agreed, “But one thing I appreciate more than anything else is talent. Her muggle upbringing did nothing to hamper her learning about magic so she has it in spades. She’s taken to magic like a mermaid to water and I’ve always said that’s the sort of thing that should be encouraged in muggleborns. I guess I’m just a sucker for a crying girl. I’m not going to leave her crying alone in a bathroom during one of the biggest feasts of the year.”

“If you like that sort of thing… I could introduce you to Moaning Myrtle,” Millicent offered.

“Who’s that?” you inquired.

“She’s the ghost of a muggleborn Ravenclaw,” Millicent answered. “She died in the second floor girls’ bathroom and now she haunts it. She cries a lot and it makes that bathroom a really uncomfortable place to… er… go to the bathroom.”

“Let’s focus on the living girl that’s crying in a bathroom,” you resolved. “It doesn’t sound like Myrtle‘s going anywhere.” You reached the bathroom and stopped to stare at the sign that denoted it was for girls. “Er… would you mind going in and asking her to come out?”

“I’ll try,” Millicent replied. “But I doubt she’ll go for it.”

“By the way…” you said before she went in, “Another thing I appreciate almost as much as talent is loyalty. Thank you for having my back with the Gryffindors and for coming along when you don’t really even care about Granger.”

“Sure, no problem, Marvolo,” Millicent responded as she opened the door and went into the bathroom. You could’ve sworn her face had taken on a pink hue.

You were left waiting outside the girls’ bathroom for a minute before Millicent came back. “Sorry, she doesn’t want to see anyone… I asked her to come out and she said to go away.”

“Well, if she won’t come out then I guess the other option is for me to go in,” you decided. “Would you mind keeping watch?”

Millicent nodded and held the door open so you could slip inside. You saw that one of the toilets was ‘occupied’ with the stall door closed and made your way over to it.

You could hear muffled sniffs coming from inside the stall. You weren’t exactly sure what to say to the crying girl. You only knew that you wanted the crying to stop. So you raised your hand and gently knocked on the stall door. “Er… hey there Granger…”

“This is a girls’ bathroom!” the muggleborn girl immediately reprimanded you. Trust her to immediately cite your rule-breaking.

“You told my friend that you weren’t going to come out,” you pointed out. “My only other option was to come in myself. I told you that day in the library that some things are worth breaking the rules for. I’d say that checking on a girl who’s been crying alone in a bathroom is one of them.”

“Why do you even care?” Granger asked with a sniff, “You hate me just like everyone else!”

After seeing Granger getting more and more stressed as your time at Hogwarts had gone on, you knew that it wasn’t just an insensitive comment made by Ron Weasley that resulted in her crying in the bathroom. Weasley’s insensitive comment was likely the straw that broke the Abraxan’s back in a laundry list of issues the muggleborn had going against her.

You didn’t know what Ron Weasley had said to her. But knowing him and how much of an overachiever Hermione Granger was in classes, it was likely petty and jealous. You decided to help her work through the issues that you did know about.

“What gave you that idea?” you retorted. “I actually quite enjoy having you around.”

“Please!” the muggleborn witch scoffed. “You and the other Slytherins hate me because my parents aren’t magical and the Gryffindors think I’m a nightmare.”

You let out a low sigh and since Granger didn’t appear like she would be coming out anytime soon you turned around sat against the stall door. “Look, Granger, I can’t speak for anyone else but the reason I give you a hard time is because I enjoy the competition. You’re undoubtedly the top student in our year and I use you as a measuring stick. If I can best someone who is as smart and talented as you then I must be doing something right.”

“Some competition,” Granger replied. “You have everything stacked in your favor.”

“Why? Because I grew up knowing about magic?” you asked. “So have Weasley, Parkinson, and Malfoy but that hasn’t stopped you from besting them at every turn. Don’t listen to them. They’re jealous of your talent and aren’t willing to put in the immense effort it takes to get to your level. Do you think it’s just a strange coincidence that I’m good at Potions and dueling? I study, I practice, and I work hard. Just like you.”

“But unlike me, you have Professor Snape catering his lessons to you,” Granger argued.

“Professor Snape is biased and unprofessional,” you bluntly stated. “I know it. You know it. The other professors all know it. That’s why in the two months we’ve been here at Hogwarts none of the first year Slytherins have earned so much as a single point from Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout. They’re clearly trying to compensate for him.”

“I didn’t know about that,” Granger admitted.

“Of course you didn’t,” you said. “We only have two classes together and Professor Sinestra doesn’t give anyone points. Headmaster Dumbledore obviously has issues selecting competent staff since he also employs Professor Binns and Filch. And then there’s the curse that prevents him from keeping a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for more than a year. Professor Snape is spiteful and unpleasant but at least he knows his potions inside and out.”

“...” The Gryffindor girl had gone quiet. You strained your ears to hear what was going on beyond the door you were seated against and it sounded as though she was wiping her eyes. “That doesn’t change the fact that no one here likes me no matter how hard I try. I thought Hogwarts would be different from muggle school.” Apparently, Granger’s teacher’s pet status got on her muggle classmates’ nerves too. “Even when I try to help it just makes them hate me more.”

“Listen, Granger…” you spoke up again, “Being a muggleborn means that you’re always going to have a bunch of close-minded purebloods against you. But thinking you don’t belong here in the Wizarding World when you have such an immense gift for magic is nothing short of a travesty. The Sorting Hat put you in Gryffindor instead of Ravenclaw for a reason. I think deep down you have the courage to face all that adversity and press onward. Granger, you’re only thirteen and I’ve already heard murmurings from some of the professors about you being the brightest witch of our generation.”

"Fourteen," Granger replied.

"Pardon?"

"I’m fourteen," Hermione corrected you. "My birthday was back in September. The nineteenth. My parents managed to send me a present that day. No one in my house noticed or even cared. I normally don’t eat a lot of sweets since my parents are dentists but that night I took an extra piece of cake for dessert to celebrate. No one bothered to ask why."

"My birthday’s January first," you stated, "But you see what I just did, Granger? I told you. Did you tell any of your housemates that it was your birthday or did you expect them to guess? Please, they’re Gryffindors. Maybe that would’ve worked in Slytherin. My house is filled with nosy girls. But you’ve got to at least make the effort. That’s what I’m doing. And that’s why I left one of the biggest feasts of the year and why I’m sitting here in a girl’s bathroom with you instead."

You heard the stall door unlock and the door was pulled open before you could move away. You fell backward and the back of your head hit the ground in between Granger’s feet. This granted you a rather intimate look up the fourteen-year-old girl’s skirt.

“White today, Granger?” you remarked as you stared up at her white knickers.

The muggleborn girl let out an embarrassed squeak and staggered backward. You sat up then turned to face her as you got to your feet.

“You-you-YOU PERVERT!” Granger sputtered indignantly. “After saying all those nice things to me you just had to go and ruin it!” Her face was flushed but her eyes were thankfully dry. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. “What are you smiling at?”

“You’re angry, embarrassed, and you’re yelling at me,” you pointed out. “My evil Slytherin plan to get you to stop crying was a success!”

That earned you a faint smile. “Thank you…”

Suddenly the bathroom door slammed. You turned and saw an extremely pale Millicent standing inside the bathroom. “What’s the matter, Millie?”