HP: I got Transmigrated into the World of Magic [Chapter 99: Do What?! ] (Patreon)

"I'll make sure she sees reason. Thanks, Luna."

We stand up and make our way out of the Hall. The three of us draw a number of stares, but I assume it's once again because of Harry. Finally away from the stares in a secluded, empty corridor, Harry pulls out the Map and checks it. 

After a few minutes, we're all convinced that neither of them are on the grounds. I notice that Moody and Crouch are in Moody's office again, and I sweat a bit, waiting for one of them to point it out. 

When I successfully force myself to change my focus, two names walking away from the Great Hall catch my attention: Tracey Davis and Blaise Zabini.

Harry sees them, too, and points them out. "You want to catch up?" Harry asks.

"If you guys are up for it," I say, looking at Hermione.

She looks at me with the same unreadable expression for a moment. "Let's go."

We silently stalk the halls and catch up in a matter of minutes. I glance at Hermione several times, but she isn't paying attention.

"Mr. Zabini, Ms. Davis," I call, jogging up to them once we're in sight.

"Lerner," Zabini says coolly.

"Have you guys seen Daphne? I was busy this past week so I didn't get to apologize to her in person." I hear Hermione make a noise behind me, but she doesn't say anything.

"She's not here," Blaise says shortly.

Tracey rolls her eyes. "Her father is bringing her back around noon."

"Ah, family thing," I say, nodding. "Astoria, too, I take it?"

"Yes," Tracey says before Blaise has a chance to say anything.

"Well, I hope they received my gifts," I say, more to myself. "Please tell them I was looking for them. Do you suppose Daphne and Astoria would be interested in meeting up before the afternoon feast, Ms. Davis?"

"Yes," she says again quickly.

Blaise is looking more upset by the moment, so I ask about it. "Do you disagree, Mr. Zabini?"

He scoffs and turns around, walking away.

"That's a no, he doesn't disagree," Tracey says, smiling back. "He's just angry that they would be interested."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I say, though I'm really not. "How about the seventh floor corridor again? Unless you want to pick a place, I mean."

"No, that'll be fine," she says. "We'll see you then, I'm sure."

"Goodbye, Ms. Davis."

We walked away more slowly than we arrived. For several minutes, none of us spoke. I'm thinking about what it means that Daphne and Astoria went to see their father. Almost certainly it was just to see family on Christmas. 

Neville didn't go...I suppose his parents are permanent residents of St. Mungo's and I get the impression his Gran isn't exactly a ray of sunshine, but they're still family.

"Why do you do that?" Hermione asks into the silence, breaking me out of my thoughts.

"Do what?" I ask.

"Act like that around them," she says with a sour expression. "Like you're...inferior or something."

"I don't know, it seems natural to me," I shrug. "Or maybe intuitive is a better word. I guess I get the impression that they'll listen more to what I have to say if I'm acting how they might expect."

She doesn't seem to appreciate that answer. "Do you do the same to us, then?"

I consider that a moment. "I suppose I did a little bit when I first met you, but now you know me better than anyone else, so I suppose I act like the 'real me' around you.”

“Although, if you want to get philosophical, I suppose every face I put on is a mask. Is there even a way I act that is purely 'me?' I don't know. I might have a picture in my head of who I am, but that doesn't necessarily square with how you guys see me, or even how I act."

She frowns at me. "Why not act the way you picture yourself in your head, then?"

"I think I'll try," I say with a shrug.

She ponders that for a moment. "Do you think the way that I see you is how you picture yourself?"

"No," I said immediately. She flinches slightly, but I crack a wide smile. "Judging by the number of times that you've tried to kill me with your eyes, I think I'm a lot funnier than you think I am."

Harry bursts out laughing with me, and Hermione sends me a mock death glare.

"Close," I say, "but I don't see the usual malice behind it this time."

"Prat," she says, nudging me with an elbow and failing to hide a smile.

"So, Harry," I say, "are you ready for tonight?"

He sighs. "I guess as ready as I'll ever be. At least you both will be there."

"Well, there's a bit of a problem with that," I say.

"What?" Hermione asks, snapping her head to me.

"Well," I drawl, "I have it on good authority that your date, Harry, is going to blow people's minds when they see how drop-dead gorgeous she is. We'll be lucky to see her above all the boys tripping over each other just trying to get a closer look and get her to dance with them."

"Oh hush," Hermione says, cheeks pinking slightly.

"Great, now who am I going to dance with?" Harry says, frowning.

"I don't know, Harry, I just don't know," I say with mock consternation. "I'll hold them off as long as I can, but after the Champions dance they'll be circling like vultures."

He grunts, playing along. "What about you? Maybe I can run interference for half a dance or so before I'm overwhelmed. What was I thinking, asking the most beautiful woman in the school?"

I sigh exaggeratedly. "I guess we'll have to settle for second-rate beauties like Fleur for our dancing needs."

"Quit being silly," Hermione says, cheeks thoroughly tinted red by now.