Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Second Chances	By : ShigeSato Category: Harry Potter Crossovers > Het - Male/Female Views: 2963 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, settings or named spells/objects in the Harry Potter franchise. They are the intellectual property of JK Rowling and Warner Bros. I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
"Ginny, for the last time, no!" Hermione insisted, raising her eyebrow at her ginger-haired friend as she buttered her croissant crisply.
"Come on, not even a little?" Ginny asked mischeviously. "You can't tell me that you don't think he's even a tiny bit sexy?"
"Not even a little," Hermione affirmed, mouth now full of pastry. "Let's just say he's not my type."
"Oh, and what's your type then?" Ginny retorted, her mouth twitching upwards. "Because it seems to me that, besides my brother, which – just eugh – you haven't really thought of anyone like that."
"That's not true!" Hermione protested. "There was Viktor."
"Oh, come on, anyone with eyes could see Viktor was attractive," the ginger girl replied, taking a sip from her orange juice. "And you didn't really like him that much anyway, you told me so. I mean like a proper crush."
Hermione shrugged. "I guess I just never had time for it. There are more important things, like-"
"- like NEWTs and Ministry applications. I know," Ginny teased gently.
"More important than what?" a voice sounded behind them, as Neville slid into a chair beside Hermione and took a doughnut from the pile.
"Than boys," Ginny said, and Neville laughed. "Hermione has her priorities straight, I'd say."
"You're both no fun at all," she proclaimed, then stood up, and her plate magically cleared. "I've got to go to Quidditch practice, anyway. We've got our first match this weekend against Hufflepuff and they've really stepped up their game this year."
"Hannah is sure they're going to beat you," Neville supplied. "You'd better watch out, I think they have your number."
"No way," Ginny announced. "And you're both coming to the game to support me, right?"
"Of course," they said in unison, knowing it was best not to argue when it came to Quidditch.
After the fiery-haired girl's departure, Neville turned and smiled at Hermione. "Was she going on about you-know-who again?"
"Like you wouldn't believe," she said, smiling. "Anyone would think he was some sort of Adonis, hand-crafted by the gods. I just don't see it."
Neville spared a glance at the subject of their conversation, presently surrounded by women at the Slytherin table. "You know, I think you're probably the only one who doesn't."
"Why, do you like him too?" Hermione asked with a brow raised.
"I mean…" Neville blushed a little. "I don't know about like, especially, certainly not as much as Ginny does, but he's definitely attractive."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Like I said to Ginny, maybe he's just not my type."
Neville put his elbow on the table and propped up his chin with his hand. "So who do you think is attractive? Come on, there has to be someone in this room. I won't judge."
"Are we really doing this?" Hermione asked defeatedly. Then she sighed and cast her gaze around. It passed over the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables, and stopped for a moment on Anthony Goldstein of Ravenclaw, but then began to rove again, over towards the Slytherins. There was no denying that most of the best-looking guys in the school were in that house. She'd never really taken the time to look, though, given that almost all of them were self-involved pricks or outright bullies. Her eyes moved along the rows of seats one by one, passing over Ginny's crush, looking for anyone that Neville would accept as a real answer.
There was no-one that sparked her interest. Sure, there were good-looking guys at the table, but she needed more than that. She needed passion and knowledge and confidence and, most importantly, someone who could keep up with her. That was what she'd been lacking with Ron. She decided to take a pot shot and hope that Neville would bite.
"Goldstein," she said, hoping it didn't sound too fake, and Neville burst out laughing.
"Nice try. No way you find Goldstein attractive, you told me the other week at the party that you thought he had a huge forehead," her fellow Gryffindor admonished. Hermione sighed, putting her forehead against the table. Why she had been so forthright in her opinions? Why had she let them feed her that much Firewhisky that night? "Next," Neville said. "Come on, there has to be at least one guy here that you think has sex appeal."
"You," Hermione said, trying to catch him off-guard. "It's always been you, Neville. I can't hide it any longer. And I know it'll never happen, so please stop asking me about it?"
She should have known he wasn't buying that. "Yeah, as if you even noticed I was a guy," he said with a chuckle. "Just 'cause I'm out of the closet now doesn't mean you can say it's me and get a free pass. All I'm asking for is a name. Come on. One name. A real one."
Hermione lifted her gaze reluctantly to the expanse of the Great Hall again, and a flash of movement caught her eye. Someone was hurrying in, obviously late for breakfast, tucking in his shirt and straightening his tie as he nervously checked the clock behind the teachers' table. It was a Slytherin, Theo Nott. He wasn't someone she'd ever taken much notice of before now, but admittedly, a large part of that was because he had never been nasty to her. He was in with Malfoy's crowd, that much she knew, and his father was a Death Eater, so she'd never had much of a reason to speak to him. As he crossed the Hall quickly and sat down next to his friends, she took in his lithe form, dark, ruffled hair that swished over his forehead, and his aristocratic face.
"Theo Nott's not all that bad," she said, finding she actually meant it.
Neville followed her gaze. "Yeah, actually. He's grown into himself a lot. I can see it. Alright, there you go, you're free. Was that so hard in the end?"
"Yes," Hermione muttered, packing up her timetable and putting it into her bag. "Are you coming with me to Potions?"
"I don't take Potions," Neville reminded her, picking up his bag and following her out of the Hall. "You know that."
She did know that, of course she did. "Oh, of course, sorry," she said, shaking her head. "I don't know why I said that, really."
"I do," Neville smirked. "Thinking about Theo still, were you?"
Hermione hit him with her bag, and he laughed, heading out of the entrance hall doors towards the greenhouses. "See you later, Hermione. Try not to get too distracted!"
Irritated, Hermione began her journey to the dungeons. She loved her friends but honestly, there were more important things to be worrying about than sex and relationships. They were in their last year of school, and already delayed by a year because of the war. She hated to think about the war, because it reminded her of everyone they'd lost. There were still harsh reminders everywhere, in the way other houses treated the Slytherins, in the chipped walls and broken statues that still littered Hogwarts, in the way Ginny's smile dropped whenever she thought nobody was looking. It had been hard, coming back here after everything – especially without Harry and Ron, who had decided to pursue careers as Aurors without their NEWTs – but if nothing else, Hermione Granger was all about education, and she would never have forgiven herself for not completing hers.
She supposed she could forgive her friends their frivolity. They were only trying to find ways to move on, the same way she was coping by burying herself in work. Perhaps a little lightness and laughter was what was needed right now, for all of them. She knew Ginny was trying to get over Harry, as well, since the two of them had parted ways before she came back to school. In some strange way, her friend's overwhelming crush being on a Slytherin was at least promoting some odd kind of house unity – if she ever actually spoke to him, that was.
She wondered what that would be like. She, like everyone else, had given the Slytherins a wide berth upon returning to school. For most, it was because of old prejudices and blame culture from the war. For Hermione, though, all that should be water under the bridge. Those who deserved to be punished – mostly their parents – had been punished by the law, and those who didn't deserve to be punished were back at school, here with them, and had chosen to finish their education just as she had. She was intelligent enough to understand that not everything was black and white, and it must not have been easy for them to live through what they had witnessed either.
No, Hermione's avoidance of the Slytherins was more to do with wariness. Though she didn't blame them for the war, and didn't want to see it as 'sides' anymore, she had no idea how they felt, and it could be that they were still the same bastions of prejudice and snobbery they had always been – likely, in fact. She saw little point in trying to befriend people who likely wouldn't want to know her, so she kept to herself as she always had, and tried not to get in their way. For their part, they stuck closely together and seemed to be outwardly unaffected by the obvious hatred they were receiving, though she knew appearances couldn't always be trusted.
She reached the door of the Potions classroom and entered, sitting at her usual desk. The rest of the class filed in slowly behind her, chattering away to each other. All the classes for the 'eighth-years' this year were mixed-house, due to the low number of people who had returned to school, so it was the same group of people she had most of her classes with.
Normally, she sat alone, since she was the only Gryffindor taking Potions. Today, though, she felt someone sit next to her, and turned in surprise to see Ginny's crush sitting beside her and taking out his books, his dark face flushed. He looked at her apologetically.
"Sorry," he said his voice very slightly accented, "but there's a pile of ingredients where I normally sit. I didn't want to move them in case they were important for some other class. Hope this is okay."
"Sure, Blaise, no problem," Hermione replied in a friendly tone, and the Italian looked surprised, but grateful nonetheless, and nodded at her as he finished taking out his study materials. She wasn't sure what to make of it, as there were a number of empty tables in the room. Maybe he was trying to reach out – or maybe this was just an exceedingly elaborate prank. She wasn't sure which, but either way she was determined not to look like a fool, and kept a close eye on him.
He was actually quite a nice table companion, though, throughout the lesson, sitting quietly and taking notes, not interrupting her to ask what was going on like Harry and Ron used to do, or throwing paper planes at his Slytherin friends across the room as she'd half-expected he would. Instead, he was diligent and didn't disturb her once, and during the practical portion, he kept himself to himself, worked hard and quietly, and didn't even attempt to mess with her ingredients. All in all, he was probably the best table companion she'd ever actually had.
After the lesson, as they were packing up, he thanked Hermione quietly for sharing her table and got up, ready to go back to his friends. "Hey, Blaise," she said, shocked even as the words came out of her mouth. He turned to look at her inquisitively. Before she knew what she was saying, she'd gabbled out, "Some of us are having a party in the Room of Requirement Saturday night. After the Quidditch game. If you want to come, you're welcome to."
She didn't know what had made her say it. He hadn't acted as she expected of him during the lesson, so perhaps all her perceptions of the Slytherins were off – especially those she'd never actually interacted with before. There had to be a reason he had picked her table. If he was trying to reach out somehow, in some subtle way without showing his hand in case it failed, then she wanted to take the hint. She wanted to give the Slytherins a chance, because if Hermione Granger couldn't, who could? If he came to the party, and actually got to know her group of friends, well maybe he wouldn't have to feel so hated anymore.
Blaise looked shocked at her invitation. "I mean – really? A Slytherin? Are you sure I'd be welcome?"
Hermione shrugged. "I'll say you're with me." She didn't know how much more she should say.
Blaise began to take steps towards the exit of the classroom, and she followed, dropping into step beside him. He looked confused. "Why the invite? We don't know each other. What's prompted it?" Typical of a Slytherin, she thought, to be so suspicious, but at least he was actually talking to her.
She decided to barrel on down the honesty route. It had always served her well in the past. "Honestly? I think it sucks how the other houses treat you all, and maybe spending some time hanging out with us is a step towards fixing it. Don't you think?"
"What makes you think we care how they treat us?" Blaise challenged her, but not in an unfriendly tone. "Slytherin house never needed anyone else's approval in the past."
She shrugged again. It was difficult to explain, really, but for some reason this was important to her – to get them working together, on the same team, because now there didn't need to be division. "There's not many of us eighth-years, now. What happened in the war changed us all, and it's difficult for other people to understand, because they weren't there. We all suffered together, regardless of which side we were on, and it's time for the animosity and blame culture to end. We're all affected by what happened, and the Slytherins are no exception. You need us, and we need you, and I want to help everyone to see that."
"I –" Blaise seemed to consider her for a moment, then smiled. Genuinely. "You know what, for a Gryffindor, you make a lot of sense." He was silent for a moment, observing her. "I thought all of you were the same, and I think you thought the same of us, and you're right. It's time to change it. I'll come to the party." He paused for a moment. "Can I bring the other Slytherin eighth-years? Do you think they deserve a chance, too – or is redemption in the eyes of our peers only for the chosen?" His question was a test, Hermione knew, and memories of Malfoy's sneer and cruel catcalls of 'Mudblood' crossed her mind. Could anyone have changed that much? She took a deep breath, fearful of acquiescing, but she had already started down the rabbit hole, and she wasn't about to back out now.
"If they behave," she replied carefully, "then I think it would be a good idea."
"What kind of a party will it be if everyone behaves?" the Italian replied with a glint in his eye, and she laughed at his light humour. He smiled at her again, and for a moment, in his unencumbered grin, she saw the handsomeness everyone else seemed to notice about him. "See you Saturday night, then. I'll bring along whoever wants to come."
"See you Saturday," she answered, watching him walk away. She hoped she hadn't overstepped her bounds by inviting them – and she hoped that despite the joke Blaise had made from it, that there would be no unpleasantness. Then again, with Malfoy there, who knew what would happen? It could be, and in all probability would be, a complete disaster. She put her head in her hands. Had this just been a terrible mistake?
Then, suddenly, Hermione's thoughts turned to Ginny and how she would react when she told her that her crush was coming to their party. Oh, she was definitely in for it now.
- 1
- 2
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Second Chances