#✦ 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝟎𝟏 ➜ ｢ Eighth Year ｣

[bccksmarts]

Just a doodle of Hermione in one of the yule ball dresses—since I HC that she does go the fourth year one in the pink dress and then THIS one is her eighth year ( the main verse really ) one, or the gold one ✨ But I SUPPOSE this could also be a princessy gown,,, imagine it all flowy like the Cinderella ( 2015 ) one or the Beauty and the Beast ( 2017 ) one

And yes I did have Princess Anna on the side for a reference bc posing is hard and I have not SLEPT

But I'm happy with this so we take it ♡

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❧ "What, Why Are You Looking at Me Like That?" ☙

➤ @monmuses asked: "What, why are you looking at me like that?" from Scott……. feelin insecure about his wolf look……….

   ❝Like what?❞ She asks, raising her brow at him. Her chin was resting on the back of her hands which were spread across her pulled up knees. They were in her room ( Head Girl privileges, after all ), and she'd cast a silencio to keep the noise out of the Hogswarts' halls. Scott's transformations tended to be a bit loud — and, no, she didn't blame him for them. She can only merely imagine what it must feel like, not that she even wanted to, really. He grew fangs, claws, fur and height involuntarily... and he used to do it — suffer with it — all on his lonesome. Ludicrous, if you ask her. No one should have to deal with that sort of thing alone... hence why they were like they were. He came to her when the moon was at it's fullest, when he knew that his transformation was due to happen.

   Chocolate eyes looked him over, as if to give him some sort of examination. Did he think he was appalling to look at? They'd been over this before, surely. Beneath all that fur, the claws and sharp teeth was Scott Howard. He was still there. ❝I suppose, for a word, I find it... fascinating, still.❞ A bit of a strange word to use, obviously, but she wasn't lying. He was fascinating, in every sense of it. ❝You still retain to look like yourself even when you're transformed. I can hear you... See you,❞ she straightens, her legs pushing themselves down to dangle off of the side of her bed, her hands coming down to press into the mattress, gripping the edge, ❝After all the lessons we've had when it comes to lycanthropy... it's as if the wizarding world didn't account for you.❞ Which really, they didn't. Wizards and witches only really had encounters with werewolves that didn't have much control of themselves, and didn't remember anything after the fact.

   Fenrir Greyback was an exception to this, embracing it and becoming what he was. A disgusting man; feeding off of innocent lives. A vile creature, he was. Scott is more of a man than Greyback ever was.

   ❝So, yes. I'm fascinated.❞ She smiles, lightly shrugging her shoulders as she muttered an accio to float a book over to her lap, her hands gripping it's hard covers. Eyes flicking down to the text before back to him, Hermione's lips quirked, ❝Don't tell me you thought that I was judging your appearance, Scott. We're well passed that now, aren't we?❞

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❧ beauty and the beast sentence starters ☙

➤ @toxicmalicex asked: ’ Oh dear. That didn’t go very well at all, did it? ’

  The witch was utterly seething. Her Eighth Year at Hogwarts was going well right up until her Potions lesson. There was a new teacher, a woman this time around. Professor Coulter. This wasn't unusual, there were plenty of women teaching within the castle, but for Potions? She'd had multiple teachers, Snape and Slughorn being the main two of her entire recollection, and she knew of Professor Aesop as well from. After all, Hermione preferred to do her research.

  However, Hermione didn't have much information on this woman. She should, but then again, she didn't do much of a background check on many of the other teachers as they made their way in and out of the castle. A miscalculation on her part.

  The curls that were framing her face, her forehead and resting on her shoulders were frizzing at an alarming rate, as they would when she was getting highly frustrated. She didn't care if she was being stared at—this potion was being impossible! She was attempting to brew Wolfsbane, but it wasn't going according to plan. The last thing she wanted was for Harry to turn around and tell her he did something completely different to the book's instructions, like he had done in their Sixth Year.

  Stirring the potion, adding more ingredients, reviewing the text—the whole process was driving her insane! She could hear some Slytherins in the back, snickering and making jokes at how much volume her hair had gained, but she ignored it. She ignored all the voices... right up until the Potions Master, their professor, had spoken up. Hermione quickly turned her head to the woman, trying to form some kind of logical sentence, ❝I—I swear, Professor, I'm following the instructions as given!❞ Her voice came as if to sound as if she was pleading, ❝I just don't understand why it isn't showing the texture or colouring.❞

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❧ beauty and the beast sentence starters ☙

➤ @luposcainus asked: ’ Oh, you look so… so… ’

   The witch blinked, glancing between the male and her dress. Was the colour too much? Perhaps gold was a too eccentric colour to go with for her final Yule ball dress. It just... it looked so pretty in the shop window when she had seen it. Her hands moved to flatten down any sort of crinkle ( which were non-existent, mind you ), getting a bit self-conscious about how she looked.

   ❝Do I look strange?❞ She asked, looking back up to the Ravenclaw in front of her, her brows creased in concern. For all she knew, it might not even be her dress at all. It could be her hair! Merlin's sodding beard, if it was her hair, there'd no doubt be countless wizards and witches staring at her and probably laughing... and in a room full of them dancing and having a good time, that was hard to tell.

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❧ MISCELLANEOUS SENTENCE PROMPTS ☙ ⤷ Collection #3

➤ @decrsum asked: ❝ is there a reason you asked? ❞ (hi 🙈)

  Hermione's chocolate eyes rolled as her arms crossed over her chest. So Slytherin's could ask questions to get whatever they wanted, but she—a Gryffindor—couldn't without having some ulterior motive? Shouldn't this be the other way around? And the use of a certain slur mixed in? It wasn't uncommon, and it hurts for her to think she was used to it—not that it didn't sting any less.

  ❝I don't have any proper purpose, if that's what you're wondering.❞ Accusing is what she wanted to say, but she held off for the sole reason of not wanting an argument. ❝You're out after curfew, and it's my job,❞ as a prefect and Head Girl, ❝to make sure things like this do not happen.❞ She huffed. She's caught so many students after hours, hidden in alcoves for ❛a good time❜ with their significant others, or just trying to cause trouble. She was having none of it.

  ❝So I'll ask again, Darcy,❞ Hermione narrowed her gaze at him, ❝Why aren't you in your dorm?❞

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❧ "I’m in love with you." ☙

➤ @monmuses asked: "I’m in love with you." (from Scott… :] )

   Maybe it was the way they were dancing. Maybe it was how the lights were dim around them. They were in her backyard, a place Scott would come to when he was undergoing his transformations, mainly during the holidays when they weren't at school. It was the safest place for him, if she was honest. Her parents didn't know—trying to explain this to them would be a task in itself, so she just... didn't.

   This was one of those nights, and Hermione had offered to dance just to help take his mind off of it. His transformation, at this point, was near its end so he was just a bit fluffy in places. A bit taller, but still more human looking now than he was when he first came to her house in a hurry.

   Their dance was slow, romantic practically. They had before, many times, but this one was more... special, somehow. Music in the background ( thanks to her radio on a low but hearable volume ) and the way her garden was lit up with the surrounding decorations—it added an atmosphere to it that she couldn't really describe or place.

   He was so close to her, and the words... she thought, at first, that she misheard them. As soon as they came out, registering them in her brain, Hermione's head flicked up to look at him; eyes wide and lips parted, as if to silently ask if she heard him right. Her face went scarlet the moment he spoke, and, good Godric, she knew the lights around them weren't helping.

   ❝You... You're in love with me?❞ Hermione whispered in question, hoping, praying to any and all Gods that she didn't mishear. Please say she didn't. She needed to know. ❝Really...?❞ Her lips moved before she could process any of it, leaning back so she could get a better look at him, though her hands still in his and on his shoulder.

[bccksmarts]

❧ 𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐃 ☙

➤ @stcrsreverie asked: ‘ so will you come to the ball tomorrow? ’ // from ron

   ❝Is that really how you're going to ask?❞ Hermione fixed the redhead with an agitated look. She wasn't really surprised, though; Ron asked things like this in his own Weasley way... his just happened to be more blunt and not well-thought-out than others.

   Well, suppose this was better than their fourth year. He really bodged that one up, good and proper. ❝Alright—but not because you asked,❞ She responds primly, a little ❛hmph❜ at the end, ❝Because I'd like to go.❞ If only he rephrased his question to include ❛with me❜ instead. Goodness, Ronald.

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❧ ‘A BEE IN YOUR BONNET’ SENTENCE STARTERS ☙

➤ @nurturing-starlight asked: for goodness’ sake, Granger. stop your pacing before you give me indigestion. { From Damien }

   ❝I've got more than enough reasons to pace, thank you,❞ The witch huffed as she picked up said pacing. A bloody Slytherin telling her to stop her pacing; he had no right! Though, this one was hanging around her a lot more than what would be seen as acceptable. Gryffindors and Slytherins were NOT the types to get along; not that they even did, he just liked to attempt to get under her skin.

   She couldn't even place what was the matter. Exams? Under control, she was acing each one of them; almost getting an O for Outstanding in all of them, barring a couple ( Divination was utter tripe, don't bother asking her about it ). She just had a lot on her plate. Being Head Girl meant a lot of things, and it was keeping students in line as well as fitting in the time to study. But that wasn't the problem. Or maybe it was, but it wasn't as huge. Just an addition to her pile, really.

   So what was?

   ❝—And pacing can't give you indigestion.❞ She paused her walking, her eyes narrowing at the Slytherin. A ridiculous statement; a headache would've been more appropriate. ❝And besides,❞ Came her primly voice, ❝don't you have other friends to be annoying with?❞

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  The Great Hall was decorated spectacularly yet again for another Yule ball. Students of Hogwarts, as well as students from Durmstrang and Beauxbaton were in attendence again, but this year was significantly different. Eighth Years ( students retaking their seventh year that they couldn't attend due to the war ) were also in attendance—meaning Hermione Granger got another chance of a perfect evening. Her fourth year went up in flames when Ronald Weasley decided to accuse her of ❛fraternizing with the enemy❜—which was absolutely ridiculous, mind you—so she was very much looking forward to gracing a room without any such assumption.

  Students were bustling around the room, dancing with their chosen dates and their friends. Hermione, however, was stood off to the side with her glass of pumpkin juice in hand, taking light sips from it. Her attire for this particular affair was a sparkling gold dress that trailed all the way down to the floor, much like a princess' dress that you'd see in a movie or read in a fairy tale. The dress was accompanied by golden heels—that you couldn't see due to the dress' length—and a golden choker around her neck. Her hair was pretty much loose, though the top half was tied into a bun at the back of her head.

  Her chocolate eyes scanned the room for her friends and classmates, just to keep tabs on them. After all, she was the Head Girl this year, but she was ❛off duty❜ and Headmistress McGonagall had given her strict instructions to just relax. Her and relaxing didn't really mix. Off to the side of the room, by a pillar, was Ginny, talking up a storm with Blaise Zabini, a returning Slytherin of their year group. Not surprising really, given the amount of gossip she spilled to Hermione throughout the term. How Blaise was so dreamy and all this, that and the other. Harry was stood with Ron, Neville, Dean and Seamus, with Theodore Nott on their flank. Slytherins were mixing it up with the Gryffindors this year, it'd seem, really putting that ❛house unity❜ idea into effect. It was so strange, but at the same time? So right. They all looked so relaxed and chilled out... and here she was, off to the side, standing alone.

  Mere moments of just watching, the music seemed to change. Something slower, something more... intimate. She wasn't prepared for this kind of shift, not yet. Couples found each other so easily, lacing the hands together, arms wrapped around each other or being placed on waists and shoulders.

  ❛There I was again tonight,   Forcing laughter, faking smiles,   Same old, tired, lonely place...❜

  The witch swallowed thickly but quietly, wishing ( oh so wishing ) she had brought a date. She'd declined so many people, hoping for that right person to ask her, but they never asked. Not that she had that expectation; wishful thinking actually. But a girl could hope, couldn't she?

  ❛Walls of insincerity,   Shifting eyes and vacancy,   Vanished when I saw your face...❜

  The more the song went on, the more her shoulders slumped. Her eyes shifted around the room, wondering if she'd see that very face. Wondering if their eyes would connect and something deep would set off, pulling them together as if they were magnetised. Wondering if they'd dance, all up, close and personally; bodies pressing together as if they just fit together, made to fit, and their feet moving in perfect tangent, no awkward stepping on toes. Fluent, perfect, mesmerising.

  ...No. That was just some school girl's dream. The chances of that happening whatsoever were slim. Extremely slim. Taking another sip of her pumpkin juice, Hermione exhaled a sigh from her lightly painted lips before taking the chance to look around the large room again. Maybe... just maybe... she'd see someone, and they'd see her.

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❧ Random / Discussed Asks ☙

➤ @monmuses asked: "Y'know, you're even cuter up close when you do this."

What a thing to say to her, having her hands on his tie and fixing it in a frustrated manner. Was this always so common for her to do when he wanted to dress casual? Yes. Yes, it was. He wasn't one to dress so formally, especially with school attire. He liked being simple about it, but neat enough to where he looked presentable.

Already, he never let his robe be buttoned, but always made sure his shirt looked nice, along with his tie. Well... sort of. Up until Hermione took it upon herself to fix it. Though, her being so close to him could've sent his tail wagging. Which it was, if he had it out.

A sheepish smile crossed his face while looking down at her, pressing his arms at his side, "...I've never seen you like this before, but honestly? You look cute, fixing all of this for me. Do you always have a need to fix my tie? Even if it's perfect?"

   Her hands were fumbling with his tie as he was speaking to her, putting it into proper order, as well as his shirt's collar. Gods, did he not know how to sort himself out in the morning? He got up with Ronald and Harry every morning, as well as the other boys! Surely they could've taught him a thing or two about dressing properly.

   She'd done it a few times throughout the years, pretty much on her own accord. It was like dressing a baby—not that she would know how to do that. Or, no, that was wrong. She'd dressed Harry's godson, Teddy, before. But Scott was a grown man now, give or take. Older than her, at least.

   Her eyes were fixed on his tie as her hands did the work, his words almost slipped past her. They didn't. That's what made her stop. Her eyes were blinking rapidly then, hands frozen and a surge of heat sweeping through her like a wave. What the hell? Her eyes slowly moved up along with her head, her curly bangs now resting across her forehead as the usually were, hiding her raised eyebrows. ❝...Cute?❞ Her face was all sorts of pink and her lips were parted. Her thoughts were going rampant—his tie was NOT perfect! His collar was a mess and shirt clearly not tucked ( or were they? )—ugh! And her, a grown woman pretty much, getting flustered over a simple bloody word.

   She cleared her throat, eyes narrowing and quickly shifting away, ❝W - Well, someone had to! It was a mess! How Harry let you leave the tower this morning is beyond me.❞ She huffed. Ron always tended to dress scruffy, so that wasn't at all surprising that he didn't stop Scott, but Harry? She'll be having words with him later.

   Ugh, men.

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❧ Random / Discussed Asks ☙

➤ @heartheaded asked: "Did you come to the Yule Ball alone, too? 'Tis a shame, Hermione, you look quite sparkly." (Luna test :">)

   ❝Luna!❞ Hermione gasped, her hand pressing onto her chest as she figuratively jumped out of her skin. The red flush coloured her cheeks rather beautifully... too bad it was from embarrassment, ❝Yes—well...❞ Gods. The last one they attended, she was on the arm of probably the most famous, upcoming Quidditch star at the time. She definitely wasn't going to top that now, was she?

   Their final year and she came to the yule ball dateless. Did she have someone in mind to go with in the first place? ...Yes. Was she going to elaborate? Oh no, absolutely not. That would get her into all sorts of trouble, especially if her housemates heard. She kept it to herself, the best possible option, and she decided to go dateless.

   ❝It was just something I thought would be best, you know?❞ She gave a nervous smile, her brows slightly crooked, ❝But... why are you alone, Luna? You look just as beautiful this evening.❞ The curly haired witch blinked, her brow raising then, the look on her face looking more inquisitive than anything else. ❝Did no one tickle your fancy?❞ Hermione could've absolutely sworn that she'd seen Theodore Nott looking in their direction—mainly Luna's. Luna was always one of the pretty ones, and also one of the wise ones. A good choice for any wizard, or witch.

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❧ Last of Us (show) Starters ☙

➤ @twinthorned asked: ❝ a bad reputation doesn’t mean you’re bad. ❞ - (Vernon)

  ❝I never assumed that,❞ No, Hermione, but your cautiousness explains all of it. Slytherins concerned her, got under her skin. Her and that house just didn't seem to get along together for mainly 2 reasons: her house and her blood. She's heard it all before, how Muggleborns had stolen magic from some other magical being, getting called a mudblood—it became recurring and annoying. The slur didn't even upset her as much any more... after all, it was carved into her, it was a constant reminder as it stood.

  Vernon, along with his twin sister, Vivienne, were some transfers to the school, two Slytherins at that. She knew they came from the Beauxbatons school in France, deciding to transfer to Hogwarts, but she didn't know the finer details. She didn't ask. It wasn't her business. But... amongst all the others, they were... nicer? Well, somewhat, from her understanding. Hesitancy was it, if she was honest. Her final year back at the school, a bit of an extended one for her studies, had become so... strange. A time of house unity, she supposed, and as Headmistress McGonagall had insisted upon.

  ❝Do you? Have a bad reputation, I mean?❞ She asked, her brow raised which could hardly be seen due to her fringe, ❝Slytherin has a bad reputation, and so do some of its occupants,❞ There were many names she could list so easily, but did not, ❝but that doesn't mean all of its residency is bad.❞

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❧ “YOU CAN KILL ME BUT DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH THEM” ☙

➤ @toxicmalicex asked: ❝ oh, i am one of the monsters. but that just means i can keep all the other monsters from ever hurting you again. ❞ ( oh i saw this & 👀)

  The sentence alone had the young witch swallowing thickly. The woman taught her classes well and with poise and professionalism, carrying herself in a way that all girls aspired to be like... but there was also a scary side to her. One that Hermione only speculated, not wanting to assume too much too early.

  This sentence well and truly confirmed it, but in another sort of way. Protectiveness, guardianship. Even though Hermione was old enough to look after herself, she still felt that respect for the woman, the warmth of feeling like she had someone in her corner that wasn't Harry and Ron.

  ❝I... thank you, Professor Coulter. I don't know what to say.❞ She smiled politely, her hands intertwining down in front of her. How does one even respond to that? ❝I don't think anyone would hurt me now,❞ Unless it's vengeful Slytherins or Death Eaters, ❝but having you in more corner... it means a lot, truly.❞

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❧ Random / Discussed Asks ☙

➤ @decrsum asked: "Babygirl"

  Thank Merlin that her back was turned, he wouldn't be able to see that growing red blush creeping up her neck and tinting her freckled cheeks. She had a love-hate with that nickname—her body seemed to react so much differently to her brain, as if they were against each other.

  Growling, Hermione spun on her heels, stormed right up to the Slytherin, pressing and poking her index finger right into the middle of his chest, ❝How many times do I have to tell you—❞ She was doing this in a moment's confidence and she would NOT let it falter, regardless of her bright pink cheeks, ❝That nickname is so—! So—!❞ There were so many words she could use and she couldn't bring herself to use any of them.

  Ugh, Slytherin boys! They drove her absolutely ballistic in more ways than she could ever begin to explain.

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❧ Random / Discussed Asks ☙

➤ @oldmaqic asked: “Give me weenie details I need to make sure this letter is as accurate as possible.”

  ❝What makes you think I'll just give you THAT information—❞

  ...Wait.

  ❝...What letter?❞

[bccksmarts]

❧ MISCELLANEOUS SENTENCE PROMPTS ☙ ⤷ Collection #3

➤ @sorceryr asked: you’re just telling me something i already know.

  ❝Oh really? I'm so sorry, how about you actually tell me before I decide to share my findings?❞ Hermione snapped and huffed, rolling her eyes at the Slytherin. And she thought SHE was the smart arse. Merlin, he sounded even more pompous than Malfoy, and that was saying something. She tried to give other snakes the benefit of the doubt, but good Godric—it was getting harder and harder to tolerate them.

  She was TRYING. She promised McGonagall she'd try.

  ❝Look,❞ Sigh, ❝Can we just get through this without the sarcasm? I'd like to be out of this as much as you do,❞ She concluded, gathering the sheets of parchment that she'd scribbled her findings on. Back to the drawing board, she guessed. This assignment was going to be a LOT harder than she thought. Yes, pairing two intelligent brains in a project that can clash—what a great idea.