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Hermione Jean Granger was proud enough to agree that she was, indeed, the cleverest witch in their year. It did not happen through sheer luck, after all. Her hard work and sleepless nights, combined with the amount of time she’s spent in the library have all been proven worthwhile if her grades have anything to show for.
Which is why it annoys her to no end that a certain Ravenclaw student can get nearly, if not the exact same marks that she does when they barely even try.
The second term has just begun, and the results of the first term examinations have just been released. Students of all years are crowding the hallways, house scarves adorning their necks as the cold January breeze drifts through the windows of Hogwarts.
“Honestly,” Hermione exclaims to Harry and Ron as they walk to the Great Hall, “I don’t even see her studying! She barely listens to lectures and she’s always the first to leave.” She huffs as she plops down on her seat. “Yet, somehow, she’s always first to finish the tests,” she mutters as she grabs a portion of mashed potatoes from the feast in front of her.
Ron casts a questioning glance at Harry sitting to his left. The latter made the smart decision to not sit beside their hot-headed friend for dinner and merely shrugged at Ron.
“Well, Hermione,” Ron starts, fighting a third year over some fried chicken for his plate, “seems like you watch this lass quite close. Maybe if you focused more on the lectures and less on—”
Hermione’s glare was all it took to shut him up. He gulps and takes a bite out of his food instead while Harry leans forward to look at her.
“Maybe she does study, and you just don’t see her? I mean, she is a Ravenclaw after all.” Harry offers. Ron leans back, happy for the opportunity to take the attention away from him.
Hermione sighs, her annoyed gaze fixed on the mashed potatoes that have begun to look like quicksand from all her prodding. “Still doesn’t explain how she does so well when she doesn’t even write down notes,” she finally mutters. The topic is dropped after that, the entire Gryffindor table more interested in the small explosion that Seamus somehow managed to create again.
It’s not a secret that there are some classes that Hermione is not very fond of. Ancient Runes is one, Arithmacy another. Be that as it may, it does not mean that she will not excel in those classes—even if they are just optional electives.
The same can be said for Astronomy, although she does not find it quite as dreadful as the ones mentioned earlier. She’s proficient, just not passionate. Another thing to be said about Astronomy, is that it’s one of the few classes she shares with Y/N.
So, there she was, diligently taking down notes on her parchment as Professor Sinistra lectures them about planetary movements and how they can use them to time magical tasks. Her eyes stay on the older witch as her hand moves her quill with practised ease—not needing to look down to know her notes are written straight and flawless.
A few students remained—tinkering and using the telescopes—after the class had ended, including Hermione, who was packing up her things before walking up to her professor with some extra questions.
It was only after she was fully satisfied with the answers she had been given that she realized they were the only people left in the classroom.
Well.
Not quite.
“Oh—and Miss Granger?” Professor Sinestra drawls, catching Hermione's attention from where she was about to leave, “do wake Miss L/N as you head out.” She turns around gracefully and returns to her desk.
It was only then that Hermione noticed a figure napping on the desk closest to the door. Her face twists into one of annoyance. She sighs, clutching her bag tighter around her shoulder as she indignantly walks toward the napping student.
As she walks closer, she catches a glimpse of the parchment that the other girl had cast aside in favor of getting some sleep. There was nothing but mere drawings of constellations and planets on it, and that only infuriates Hermione even more. Honestly, it's not even a required class anymore. Why bother coming if you're not even going to listen? She thinks to herself.
She taps the Ravenclaw. When she doesn't even stir, Hermione opts for shaking her shoulder instead.
The other girl wakes abruptly, head snapping up quick enough to create a faint whipping noise. She cranes her neck to glance at Hermione, movements still lazy, while the latter simply stares back with a blank face. The Ravenclaw says nothing as she simply stands, grabs her things, and walks out the door—but not before she mutters a quick goodbye and apology to Professor Sinistra, who only waved in dismissal.
Hermione tries to resist the urge to follow the other girl, irritated and wanting to give her a piece of her own mind. How utterly rude of her, to not only sleep in class but not even properly addressing your professor afterward!
Try as she must, her curiosity did always win her over.
Hermione manages to catch up to Y/N just as they were heading down near the Charms Classroom.
“Excuse me, L/N!” She calls once she’s only a few steps away from the other girl, who, in turn, simply looks back in confusion as she’s approached by the Gryffindor.
“Yes?”
She blinks at the response, her mouth opening and closing around nothing. It’s at this moment that Hermione realizes she doesn’t really know what to say. Her irritation has faded along with her one-track determination. She has not rehearsed her words, and now that she thinks about it, it’s quite futile to… what did she want to do, again? Give L/N a piece of her mind? L/N, who has now raised a curious eyebrow at her, which then leads her to realize that she has probably been staring at the Ravenclaw for a minute now.
“Erm…” Hermione readjusts the strap of her satchel, trying to find courage through clutching the bloody hell out of the thing, “How do you do it?” She utters suddenly.
“Sorry?” Y/N tilts her head. “Do what?”
Hermione inhales through her nose. Honesty is what she manages to decide on. “Get such good marks—when I don’t even see you try, I mean.” She tries not to cringe at how daft her words sound, once again punishing the strap of her satchel.
L/N, bless her, seems to actually be trying for a genuine response as she looks over Hermione’s shoulder and purses her lips in thought. She looks back to Hermione when she finally answers.
“Good memory, I suppose? And the lessons are… easy to understand,” she responds calmly.
Somehow, that answer has ignited Hermione’s earlier irritation, but she has enough dignity not to show that to the other girl. So instead, she lets out a defeated sigh, mutters a quiet right, and pushes past Y/N to head to her next class.
Y/N stands in place, a quizzical look on her face as her eyes follow the Gryffindor’s leaving figure.
It takes Hermione about a week to finally forget about her interaction with a specific Ravenclaw girl. In fact, she doesn’t even know why she let it bother her that much. It’s not like L/N was getting higher marks, nor should she have concerned herself with the other girl in the first place. Why and how L/N does what she does is none of her concern. With that being said, Hermione is simply content with continuing to do what she has always done: focus on her own studies. (and being excellent at it)
Which, in theory, would have been easy to do.
If not for the fact that Professor Slughorn had decided to pair them up for today’s potions task.
Which, in theory, Hermione should have been happy about. It’s not everyday she gets an actually competent partner and not just some indolent student who expects her to do all the work. You’re the smart one. I’d just get in your way, some of them had said.
So, really, she should have been happy about this partnership, except her partner is being quite adamant about the right way to make amortentia.
“It’s better to add them while the water is lukewarm,” L/N says, trying to reach for the peppermint flower heads that Hermione keeps out of reach.
“The instructions clearly state that you should add them when the water becomes warm.” she argues back.
L/N swiftly grabs enough flower heads for the potion before Hermione can react, calmly adding it to their cauldron. The latter can only furrow her eyebrows, dropping the bowl in resignation. “I will take no credit when this potion becomes a failure.”
“I’ve made this before, and I don’t fail.” L/N responds, hands busy with the potion.
Hermione can’t help but let a trace of surprise show on her face at the sudden show of personality from the other girl, and from the fact that she’s apparently done this before. A miracle, considering you can't seem to follow basic instructions. She swallows down that response, irritation rising at the information that the Ravenclaw is objectively more advanced than she is in this aspect.
Professor Slughorn divided this task into two parts, considering that the potion takes a total of nine days to brew. L/N was supposed to take over the brewing on the first day—which is today—with Hermione assisting, and their roles would reverse on the ninth day.
It doesn’t have to be said that Hermione is not comfortable with this arrangement. She’s much used to doing all the work herself, even if her current partner is supposedly capable.
L/N carries on with the brewing of the potion, adding a final sprinkle of rose thorns before dusting her hands with a satisfied look on her face. “Now we let it rest for an hour.”
Hermione stands off to the side, hands on the edge of the desk as she chews on her bottom lip while eyeing the potion as if it could explode at any minute. L/N had ignored another two specific instructions—albeit little details, but instructions nonetheless—after their first dispute, and it’s only making her uneasy. She’s so used to following every instruction to the T, even going as far talking to the professors to ask for clarifications.
She squares her shoulders before looking L/N in the eye. “Right. We’ll take turns opening and stirring it for the next week. I’ll start tomorrow,” She says it like it’s final.
“Okay,” L/N says simply. Too simply, in Hermione’s opinion, as if she’s not responsible for the brunette’s rising stress levels. They stare at each other for a few moments, although one looks significantly more annoyed than the other. “Right, so…” L/N continues, “Professor Slughorn has started to dismiss some students...”
Hermione looks around. Some students have started to leave, save for one partner of each pair. She looks back at the other girl to continue.
“Could I leave the rest of the brewing to you? You just have to wait an hour before removing it from the heat and then—”
“I know what I need to do,” Hermione interrupts. She was about to comment on the audacity of the Ravenclaw to instruct her when she’s done most of the work. That is, before she realized she did not, in fact, do any of it, besides gathering the ingredients. She really was used to more incompetent partners. She has the decency to look guilty, despite not actually voicing out her (incorrect) thoughts. “I’ll finish up. You can go.” She finally says.
“Great. Thanks, Granger.” L/N says cheerfully, a complete juxtaposition to Hermione’s current mood. She packs her things and casts a smile toward the Gryffindor before she turns to leave. Hermione tries for a small smile back.
With the Ravenclaw out of sight, she examines their potion before slyly peeking at the other pairs’. With a quiet groan, her shoulders slack at the resigned admission that their potion does look—and smell—significantly better than the rest.
That had been their last interaction, both students trusting the other to visit and tend to their potion on their agreed upon shifts. It’s been five days since the potion was first brewed, which means it was Hermione’s turn to uncover their portion and stir it seven times anti-clockwise.
She had just arrived at the potions classroom and uncovered their cauldron when L/N walked in.
“Oh.”
The sudden sound startled Hermione. She thankfully wasn’t stirring the potion yet, but once she realized who walked in, she quickly regarded L/N with a look of shock and panic.
“Were you not here yesterday? You know it’s my turn today,” she all but sputtered. Merlin, was their potion being stirred twice a day?
“No, no,” the Ravenclaw is quick to defend, shaking her head for emphasis. “I was here yesterday—Wednesday too. I just didn’t see you at all today so I thought maybe you’d gone down with a cold.” she clarifies further as she walks over to her partner—who finally relaxes with a sigh—to examine their potion. “Looking good.”
“It is,” Hermione mutters. L/N wasn’t wrong, the cold and windy weather has given quite a lot of their fellow students a cold. She also had a free period that morning, which was productively spent studying in the library, so it made sense for L/N not to see her. It didn’t even cross her mind to wonder why the girl was looking for her at all.
Once she finally re-covers their potion, she picks up her satchel while fixing a few papers that start to peek out. L/N also takes notice of them.
“You use paper for schoolwork?” She asks.
Hermione flusters at the question, fixing up the last of her papers to fit in her satchel. “Only for studying. Paper is much more commonly used in the muggle world—for school and legal documents and such,” she explains. “I was studying for our written Herbology test this morning, so—”
“Wait,” L/N quickly interrupts, “That test is today?” she asks perplexed.
The other girl gives her a questioning look as they start to walk to the greenhouses. “Yes. Magical plants and their uses? Have you not prepared at all?” She asks with a hint of humor in her tone.
“I remember the lectures, so I s’pose I’ll be fine. Just didn’t think it was today.”
Hermione’s steps falter at the response before she stops walking altogether. She has been studying all morning and last night for their test today, and here comes L/N, who doesn’t even know it’s happening. Who only remembers the lectures. Who, Hermione knows, will get high marks. Hermione, who studies much more and tries much harder and yet…
Oh.
She suddenly understands why she’s so obsessed with comparing their results.
Here she was, Hermione Jean Granger, a muggleborn. A muggleborn who has been constantly scrutinized and faced with prejudice since her first year. A muggleborn who constantly has to prove herself every single year just to show everyone that she does deserve to be here. That she deserves her magic.
And then there she was, Y/N L/N, a pureblood. A pureblood who never has to face a fraction of the cruelty that Hermione has even if they fail every class. A pureblood who doesn’t fail anyway. Who seems to not even have to try, because at the end of the day, she already has the respect of every witch and wizard—gained it from the day she was born. The worst part, she thinks, is how she always gets the results Hermione wants with a fraction of the work she had to do for it—and that hurts.
“Granger?”
She realizes she must have been standing still for about a minute now. L/N is a few steps ahead, casting a confused glance at Hermione—who knows that despite her sudden epiphany, she shouldn’t punish the unassuming Ravenclaw. She won’t; but she can’t help but resent her a little bit.
So when she finally reorients herself, once again using the strap of her satchel as an anchor of support, she looks at L/N, and says, “I left something in the library. You go ahead.” She leaves without another word.
To Y/N L/N, Hermione Granger was an enigma.
She is well aware of who Voldemort is—or was—his influence reaching every inch of the Wizarding World. Well aware that the chosen one, Harry Potter, defeated him two years ago. She also knows that he didn’t do it alone.
So she knows a lot of things. That doesn’t mean she understands them. How does it take fourth year students to defeat a supposed dark lord? Three fourth year students, to be more precise and give them the credit they deserve. On top of that, they’ve apparently been doing it since their first year? With a muggleborn, no less. She thought. Let it be known that Y/N L/N is not a prejudiced witch, and neither is her family. It just seemed rather fascinating for a muggleborn to be so involved in such perilous issues. Voldemort lived for nearly a century, and then he was defeated with the help of a girl who had just heard of him at eleven years old?
While most people—and the Daily Prophet—were more engrossed in Harry Potter himself, Y/N found herself more interested in a particular friend of his.
She was not surprised to find that Hermione Granger is a brilliant witch. Top of her class in most subjects, and her knowledge far exceeded what was required for her year. Y/N thinks she must do a lot of advanced reading as well as spell practice. It’s the only reason she could know spells that were not taught within the school.
She’s also a friendly Gryffindor, always eager to help out the younger students while being stern to her own friends—especially Harry and Ron. She’s also friendly with those from other houses. Although Luna Lovegood was the only one Y/N could actually name, she knows that Hermione has friends from shared classes. Which makes her wonder… why all of their interactions—ahem, eyes locking—only consisted of Hermione seemingly glaring or looking annoyed. Well, it seemed a lot of her time was dedicated to academics. She wondered what Hermione did in her free time now that she didn’t have to spend it trying to defeat evil wizards.
Y/N isn’t quite sure if it’s for those reasons exactly that she was drawn to said girl, but one thing can be for certain. She was greatly intrigued.
With both her parents working in the ministry, she considers her future basically set. Still, there’s no harm in making sure she gets good marks as a backup in case she has to fend for her own. It’s also good leverage for getting better positions, and therefore, better salaries.
Thankfully, Y/N has never struggled in regards to academics, finding that listening to the lectures and simply remembering them already led her to good results. She always did have a good memory—her parents could advocate for that. Whenever they would forget about certain schedules or issues they were supposed to repair around the house, Y/N would always remember and remind them. She didn’t really study—save for some light reading here and there, especially when the class is particularly tricky—preferring to spend her time playing wizards chess, flying, and dabbling in muggle art.
That doesn’t mean she didn’t like learning, of course. She was very much curious about numerous fields, even signing up for multiple electives, but curiosity was the extent of her desire to learn, not the part where she had to be tested. Which, again, she nonetheless did that part just as well; so studying wasn’t really high in her list of priorities. Her parents used to berate her for it, but once they realized she would get good marks anyway, they let her be. Our daughter is a very clever witch! They would exclaim at gatherings. I suppose Ravenclaw is a good fit. Y/N thought.
Okay, so maybe—maybe—she knew that muggles mainly used paper for everything—she did dabble in muggle art after all—but it wasn’t everyday that she could just casually walk up to Hermione Granger. They weren’t quite friends. Embarrassingly, their first real interaction consisted of the brunette having to wake her up and then asking her a question—which Y/N answered properly, thank you very much—only for Hermione to leave her standing in a random hallway. (And leave her puzzled.)
Then fate was on her side. She had thought that being paired up for a project was a perfect opportunity to get to know the Gryffindor better, but then said Gryffindor spent most of the session doubting her capabilities! She could understand the hesitation, but Y/N was aiming to impress, not stress her out. To make matters worse, they could have spent the last hour simply talking while they waited for the potion to finish resting, but she had scheduled a chess match with a fifth year Ravenclaw, and she was not about to lose by default.
So, yes. Maybe she was acting clueless about the paper, but she was simply trying to make conversation with the other girl, and it actually worked out for a bit. It just so happened to lead her into finding out that they actually had a test scheduled that day. Which then somehow led to Hermione leaving her standing in a random hallway—again.
She didn’t quite believe the ‘left something in the library’ excuse, but it wasn’t her business, nor did Hermione owe her an explanation. So she simply carried on as usual. She took the Herbology test, finished, and handed it to Professor Sprout who dismissed her early; and if she took a quick glance at Hermione on her way out, it was no one's business but hers.
To Y/N L/N, Hermione Granger was an enigma. And why does she keep leaving her standing in random hallways?
Time passed as usual. Neither student had the chance to see each other, save for a few classes that they shared, and even then, L/N always left as soon as they got dismissed. Hermione was grateful for that fact, as it meant that she didn’t have to exert all her energy into avoiding the Ravenclaw. Which is something that she does now, apparently. In her defense, she’s just a little worried about how much everything about the other girl bothers her. She’d rather just take some time for herself to move on from this little sitch so she can properly face her again during potions when they inevitably have to work together.
Hermione is not an irrational person. She knows there will be people who will perform better than she does—people more naturally gifted. Harry consistently outperforms her in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Neville probably knows more than she does about Herbology; but there’s always a balance. They like those classes, it makes sense for them to do better. It’s just… L/N doesn’t seem to have a specific class she actually enjoys, and it doesn’t even matter. It’s unfair, is what it is. She’ll just have to deal with it either way.
Hermione is a logical person, but she will not deny that she is also emotional. Insecurity, jealousy, and frustration are normal things to feel, but taking them out on an unassuming person is not a normal coping mechanism. She’s fully capable of being civil, especially when L/N isn’t even at fault.
Being friendly, however, might require a little more effort than she has the ability to give.
Hermione drops the Ashwinder Eggs into their potion one at a time, as the instructions say. The class had been acceptable thus far. Her partner had been mostly quiet and kept to herself while doodling in a spare parchment. It was only as all the eggs had been dropped that she decided to speak again.
“You’re quite quiet today,” L/N says.
“We have nothing to talk about,” Hermione replies quickly.
L/N casts a quick glance at her partner as she twirls her quill between her fingers. “There’s that Transfiguration test tomorrow,” she starts slowly, “have you studied for it?”
It’s a talent that she has, Hermione thinks, that the Ravenclaw can set her off without even trying. So she scoffs under her breath and tries to keep her voice even. “Of course I’ve studied for it. I’ve been studying since the weekend.” Whether or not she notices, her voice starts to sound more heated than she intends. “Which is a sentiment you can’t share, I’m sure.”
If L/N is bothered by her tone, she doesn’t show it. “I... read through a friend’s notes?”
“Right. Of course.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I want this conversation to end so that I can focus on brewing our potion,” Hermione says.
L/N sets down her quill, head turning to her partner. “You know, I’ve noticed that you have a problem with me. I’d like to figure out why that is.”
Hermione sighs. The only requirement left for the potion was to stir it gently, the Ravenclaw knows that, so she can’t really use the focus on brewing our potion excuse. “I don’t have a problem with you.”
“Then why have you been ignoring me? Usually I’d get a judgemental glance at best.”
They’re finally looking at each other, and Hermione can’t help but feel a little guilty at the words. She hadn’t realized that L/N noticed that much. Even so, her grip on her wand only tightens as she continues to stir their potion—which she is now looking at as she starts to speak.
“I suppose it just bothers me.” She will later blame this rare moment of vulnerability on her stress and irritation. “It bothers me—that I have to try thrice as hard as you do to achieve the same marks.” Her tone is brushed in mockery, but one can’t ignore the way her breath shakes at the end of her sentence. After a few moments with no response, she begins to feel desperate to shift the topic, to not be seen as this insecure student. She isn’t.
“Oh,” L/N finally says, picking at the feathers of her quill. “I see.” She drops her quill and opts to clasp her hands instead. “I’m sorry you feel that way,” L/N adds. “But I can’t help it. The same way you can’t help the fact that you were born into magic.” She says slowly. She understands—or she thinks she does—that it’s more than just about the marks.
The Gryffindor sighs again, still stirring. “I know. Which is why… I was handling it on my own. I’m not jealous, if that’s what you think,” she quickly adds with a glance to L/N’s way. “It’s just irritating. You’ve never had to try to prove that you belong.” Her last sentence feels like an afterthought—like something the other isn’t supposed to hear.
L/N pulls her eyes away from her quill and lets them land on the brunette beside her instead. “For what it’s worth, Hermione, I never thought you didn’t belong. Or muggleborns in general, for that case,” she rushes to add after receiving a condemning glance from the other girl. “But seeing you—well, if you didn't deserve to be here, then how come you're allowed to be as brilliant as you are?”
Hermione’s hand starts to slow, still processing the words that have just come out of the Ravenclaw’s mouth. She’s never thought of it that way—never had time to, really. Even then, no one has ever complimented her that way. They were always surface level, which isn’t bad, per se. Just… this was a first, is all.
She still thought it was unfair, but what could she do about it anyway? Her irritation had eased, instead feeling… touched? Moved? Whatever she felt, she ought to also thank the Ravenclaw for the compliment. Was it a compliment? Perhaps she only said it to—
“Thanks,” Hermione whispered before her mind could run loose.
L/N only gave an awkward smile in return, which she wasn’t even sure the other girl saw as her gaze was still set on their potion.
“I think it’s done,” L/N said after the heat has been turned off for a while.
Hermione sets down her wand and they simultaneously lean their heads forward to inspect their potion.
“What do you smell?” she looks at Hermione who glances back.
“Why must I answer that? What do you smell?”
“I asked first.”
Hermione sighs in defeat, leaning back from the cauldron. L/N mirrors her posture.
“I smell… Freshly mown grass, new parchment, and… something floral, like a magnolia?”
L/N raises her eyebrows at that last answer as she brings the collar of her robe to her face. “Oh, sorry. Must be my cologne.”
Hermione stares at her then, lips parted, and refuses to acknowledge the fact that it didn’t smell that strong when the class started. “Must be.” She wipes down imaginary dust on her robe and asks, “And you? What do you smell?”
The Ravenclaw leans closer to their cauldron once again. “Um, spiced orange, fresh laundry, and something else I can’t really name. So you think we’ve done it, then?” She grins.
“You tell me. You’re the one that’s done this before.” A silence followed, broken only by both of their light chuckles.
The following moments were spent in comfortable silence. All that was left to do was wait for Professor Slughorn to grade their potion. Hermione chose to read through a class assigned book while L/N was doodling on a piece of spare parchment.
To no one’s surprise, they got an ‘O’. “Outstanding!” Professor Slughorn had said. Though they weren’t sure if he was referring to their grade or the potion itself, both scenarios made enough sense.
Students began packing up as the class ended, many leaving the classroom feeling satisfied with their results save for a few who slacked off—Y/N thinks they must have neglected opening and stirring their potion in between the brewing days.
She was still in the middle of arranging her parchments when Hermione suddenly clears her throat, catching her attention.
“I’m sorry—about earlier and… how we started off, in general. It was nice working with you, and” Hermione starts, “I… I’m usually used to doing all the work, so that was a nice change. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind partnering up again for any future projects that allow us to choose our own pair?” she asks hesitantly.
Yes. Y/N thought. It takes her a while to fully process what was happening—Hermione Granger herself actually wants to work with her again. It was only after she closed her own satchel did she realize she only answered the question in her head. “Yes, that would be nice—and it’s no problem,” she finally blurts out.
Hermione smiles in relief, her arms relaxing around the books clutched to her chest. “Great. I’ll get going then. See you, L/N.”
“See you,” L/N says to the retreating back of the Gryffindor.
“It’s to no surprise that you and Miss Granger were able to recreate Amortentia spot on.” She’s startled by the sound of Professor Slughorn’s voice, and she realizes she’s been staring at an empty doorway much too long for it to be appropriate.
“Oh. Yes, sir, thank you very much.” He smiles at her, and Y/N double-checks her belongings as she leaves.
Even as Y/N walks out of the classroom while Professor Slughorn begins vanishing the cauldrons one by one—leaving behind only empty desks ready to be used by the next batch of students—something lingers.
Spiced orange, fresh laundry, and something else I can’t really name. She could, actually, but she was too embarrassed to admit it then. It was the scent of old books.
Meanwhile, Hermione Granger is walking to her next class, wondering if the hallways have always smelled like Magnolias.