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Control
by
Selena Snape
Chapter
2
She wished she could tell Harry and Ron about it.
In the past,
they had been able to tell each other everything. Even when Harry and Ron
had
heard her
fret about their lessons – something they didn’t understand coming from
her, they
told her there
was no need for her to worry and that she was the brightest witch they
had ever
met – not
to mention the most studious. They had always tried to make her feel better.
She missed
those days.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Ron, I was
only being fair. Especially as the new Quidditch captain, you know I can’t
show
any biases
and I have to act in the best interests of the team… and the house. Ron…”
“ ‘You’re just
not good enough.’ Is that it? ‘We won’t win the Cup with you on the team.’
Don’t hesitate
from saying it, Harry. I’ve been hearing this sort of thing all my life.”
“That’s not fair, Ron.”
“NOTHING in
this world is fair! Sure, your parents got blown up and all, but your life
has just
been great
since then! You’re famous. You’re rich. People write and talk about you
everyday.
You even became
Triwizard Champion because You-Know-Who wanted you to….”
“I never asked
for any of those things. Do you think it’s easy for people to write about
you, to
think about
you, to think they know you when they don’t, for them to judge you? Do
you think
it’s easy
to be hunted down? It’s not. I’d give up my so-called “great life” to have
my parents
back!”
“Well, then,
you can have mine! They like you a lot, anyway. Probably more than me.
They
probably wished
they had you for a son instead. Plus, my brothers all like you. They sometimes
talk to you
more than they do me. Then, there’s Ginny….” In a sarcastic voice, he added,
"She
just loooooves
you.”
“That’s nonsense. They’re your family. They love you. I…I do too. You’re my friend.”
“WERE my friend.
I support you. I help you out. Heck, I stick my neck out for you. When
it
comes for
you to do the same for me, you pull out this crap about ‘justice’ and ‘doing
the right
thing’. You
choose a second year over your closest pal as Quidditch Keeper.
Maybe all you
want is a house elf, someone who’ll just wait on you hand and foot. Well,
I have
a life of
my own too, Harry, and I’m not gonna let myself be just your sidekick anymore.”
Ron
turned around
and headed towards the hole in the wall behind the Fat Lady.
Finally finding
her voice, Hermione stood in front of the exiting Ron and said, “Ron, you
know
that what
you’ve told Harry isn’t true. I…”
As if just
becoming aware of her presence in the common room, Ron’s statement switched
from
anger to sadness
and something else Hermione could not put a finger on.
“Yes, you….”
The, he left.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There had been
tension before and a time in their fourth year when her two best friends
were
not on speaking
terms, but never – in all of those times of conflict – had there been such
finality.
But, after
that scene in the common room, there was no question that the inseparable
Gryffindor
Three had
broken up.
Ron and Harry
never spoke and, for reasons she did not know or understand, they didn’t
speak to her
either. Or maybe she did – know and understand.
They had been
closer to each other more than they ever had been to her. Spending those
nights
in the library
in their fourth year not only led to a kind of crush for her green-eyed
friend Harry,
but also to
the realization that, though they were friends, he would never be with
her and for her
what he was
like with and for Ron. He seemed bored at times, or restless, or just plain
sad in
her company.
It had crossed
her mind that maybe the Gryffindor Three was actually composed of best
friends
Harry and
Ron and the stowaway Hermione. That was how it had started in the first
place. The
two were already
bonded when she got included in the group by virtue of a troll attack in
the girl’s
toilet. Perhaps,
without Harry, Ron no longer found it necessary to put up with the know-it-all
Granger and
Harry, without Ron, has avoided her nagging. Maybe they just didn’t think
she was
that important
anymore.
For all the
good it did her, she tried to keep in touch with both of them, hoping she
could help
them reconcile.
But they have new sets of friends now. She wasn’t in either’s.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This, their
sixth year in Hogwarts, was the first year in which she was completely
alone. It wasn’t
like the time
when they were all new to the wizarding school. Then, cliques hadn’t formed
yet and
Hermione could
hang out with Lavender and Parvati while Ron talked to Seamus.
Hermione’s
people skills were lacking and she had never been as aware of the fact
as she was
at the moment.
She was bossy and impatient and more than a little arrogant. Now, she has
no
one to talk
to.
She could have
kept herself busy by trying keep in contact with her parents - to whom
years in
the magical
world have made her distant – or by getting a hobby, but she had decided
to pour
her soul into
her work. THAT only made the defeat sting so much more painfully.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Your test
results have been most horrendous,” Snape drawled before taking a bunch
of scrolls
from his desk
drawer and dropping the pile with a loud crash on his table.
“Mr. Finnigan, Mr. Potter, distribute the scrolls to their owners. Quickly.”
As the two
students did as they were told and passed out the tests from desk to desk,
a low buzz
filled the
room as students reacted to marks they had received. To Hermione’s right,
Neville’s face
paled to a
ghostly white when he looked at his paper; red, angry marks filled up most
of the page.
Hermione herself
hardly had time to look over her test when the Potions teacher began to
speak
and, as they
usually did, everyone in the room stopped whatever they were doing and
fell silent at
the sound
of his voice.
“You are obviously
not studying for my subject. Did you think I would so much as pause before
relieving
you of the unhappy burden of preparing for my lessons by failing you on
your sixth year?
Think again.”
He walked forward
a few steps until he was standing in the aisle between the two front desks.
With a much
softer tone, Snape said, “There are exceptions, however.”
Hermione expected
him to look to his left, where she was sitting. Instead, he turned to his
right.
With a smile,
he said, “Mr. Malfoy, would you care to explain to the class the answer
to number
six since
you seem to have been the only one to get it correctly?”
The only
one to get it? Blood pounded on the sides of Hermione’s head. Her eyes
darted to
the test paper
in front of her. The score read ninety-eight percent. She thought, “That’s
normally
good enough
to top the exam, wasn’t it?” Maybe she had heard the words incorrectly.
Perhaps
the Professor
had said Malfoy was “one of the people to get it”.
The blonde
boy was already reading his answer to the essay question, his head bowed
over his
desk. Meanwhile,
Hermione was beginning to feel sick. Her forehead was moist and her hands
were clammy
as her eyes hurriedly scanned the contents of her scroll. Her eyes stopped.
The
whole of her
being was riveted to that one spot in her scroll. After an eternal and
still moment,
she looked
up only to meet his eyes gazing at her.
His look confirmed
what she had found. He didn’t shout. He didn’t gloat. He didn’t laugh.
He
didn’t even
bring any attention to himself. He just looked at her in a way that left
no doubt in her
mind that
he knew. He knew that she knew. He had beaten her.
No one else
seemed to notice the silent exchange. No one else seemed to be aware that
Hermione’s
perfect record has been tarnished. She had gotten the answer to a measly
two-point
essay question
incorrect. Malfoy didn’t.
In her mind,
she knew he had gotten a perfect score and topped an exam. In her mind,
all the
work she had
ever done might as well have dissipated. All was lost.
And no one seemed to care. No one noticed.
In truth, nobody
else realized the magnitude of Professor Snape’s words. Beating Granger
in a
test was simply
not a possibility in anyone’s frame of mind. In effect, no one else knew;
no one
else heard.
But she did and so did he. That was enough.
God, she hated him.
She almost
hated herself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Hermione, Professor McGonagall wants to see you in her classroom right away.”
At Hermione’s
silence, Hannah Abbott added, “I was just passing by. I don’t know why
she
called for
you.” Like most students, the Hufflepuff was not comfortable around the
mythic
Hermione Granger.
The Gryffindor
did nothing to remedy the lack of warmth of the situation. She merely nodded,
almost imperceptibly,
and straightened her robes along with the shiny prefect badge attached
to
it. Her shoes
made an annoying tapping rhythm as she walked.
Despite all
that has been passing through her mind- the loss of her best friends, the
loneliness
of this year
and what had recently transpired in Potions class – one thought rose above
all.
Unconsciously,
her hand reached up to the right side of her neck and rubbed a spot there.
She
had checked
it in the mirror this morning and there was nothing. But why, then, did
she feel as
if she had
been bitten, right at that place?
Slowly, she
shook her head and dismissed the issue. It was probably something caused
by an
insect in
the greenhouse during Herbology yesterday. Perhaps the insect bite had
healed quickly
before she
had a chance to observe it that morning.
Hermione Granger
resumed her walk in the dark halls of Hogwarts.
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