[ There are a myriad of ways that Hermione could be spending this fine New Years evening, but instead it is at a gala hosted and sponsored by the Ministry (ugh) in remembrance of those who fought valiantly and lost their lives during the Second Wizarding War a decade ago. Tonks told her that it was also to commemorate the survivors, and that Medals of Bravery were to be given out at some point during the night, which meant that there was a 99.9% chance she was going to be up there accepting it (double ugh).
She would rather be at her cottage, reading a book with Crookshanks curled in her lap by the fireplace, if you asked her. Unfortunately, she is in full attendance at Ron and Harry's behest; wearing a practiced fake smile as she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, careful not to mess up the braided up-do that took about half an hour to do β she had to wrestle with that nest on her head, after all. She's clad in a deep maroon gown (to remind everyone she is still a Gryffindor, in case they forgot) with off the shoulder sleeves to hide a scar that she has not yet been able to magick away.
Hermione would sooner off herself if another stranger commends her for being so brave while being tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange.
The fates have incredibly displeased with her, so it seems, or maybe she's getting hexed, for whatever reason? Either way, she comes to the conclusion that someone is plotting her downfall because upon being escorted to her assigned seat by her choice of drink β an espresso martini β she finds that one of her seatmates is: ]
Professor Snape. [ She greets him with a hint of disdain, but the corners of her lips are curled into a courteous smile. Kind of. If it looks a bit off, it's because she doesn't want to actually be smiling at all actually, especially in his direction. ] I'm seeing an awful lot of you lately.
[ "An awful lot" β twice in one month is more often than she'd like. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
emphasizing) wrote2024-01-02 02:03 am
no subject
She would rather be at her cottage, reading a book with Crookshanks curled in her lap by the fireplace, if you asked her. Unfortunately, she is in full attendance at Ron and Harry's behest; wearing a practiced fake smile as she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, careful not to mess up the braided up-do that took about half an hour to do β she had to wrestle with that nest on her head, after all. She's clad in a deep maroon gown (to remind everyone she is still a Gryffindor, in case they forgot) with off the shoulder sleeves to hide a scar that she has not yet been able to magick away.
Hermione would sooner off herself if another stranger commends her for being so brave while being tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange.
The fates have incredibly displeased with her, so it seems, or maybe she's getting hexed, for whatever reason? Either way, she comes to the conclusion that someone is plotting her downfall because upon being escorted to her assigned seat by her choice of drink β an espresso martini β she finds that one of her seatmates is: ]
Professor Snape. [ She greets him with a hint of disdain, but the corners of her lips are curled into a courteous smile. Kind of. If it looks a bit off, it's because she doesn't want to actually be smiling at all actually, especially in his direction. ] I'm seeing an awful lot of you lately.
[ "An awful lot" β twice in one month is more often than she'd like. ]
oh my GOD the meme please
lmfao i am so pleased u like it πΌ