Chapter Text
“I dare say your potion might actually be perfect, Hermione,” Terry Boot’s voice grated on her nerves, but she did her best to reel in her attitude as she packed her bag to leave potions and head to dinner.
“Yeah, it is perfect.”
“It’s just a shame that it won’t matter in the end,” Terry mused, an obnoxious smirk on his face.
Ever since they’d been forced to come back for their eighth year and then promptly learned that their grades had been reset under the guise of “fairness,” Terry Boot had done his best to edge Hermione out of the top academic spot.
“How’s that?” What little patience she had with him was waning expeditiously.
“A little birdie has it on good authority that you’re knocked up.”
Hermione froze, the books in her hand falling to the ground.
“Yeah, Lavender saw you the other morning before you could put your glamours on. And, of course, as a prefect, it was my duty to make sure the headmistress knew. Outdated though it may be, Hogwarts rules are super clear, pregnant witches get the boot. Leaving the top spot open for… oh, I guess that’d be me. Guess I need to get my speech ready for graduation. Can’t wait to hear my name announced while you’re in audience. If you’re allowed on the grounds at all.”
“McGonagall knows that I’m pregnant, you daft piece of human garbage.”
“What?” Terry finally turned to look at his nemesis fully. “If that’s true then the board should get involved and she’ll have to be replaced. Are you telling me she’s committing a fireable offense by keeping your secret?”
“The rule,” Hermione rolled her eyes whilst picking up her books. “Is that unwed pregnant witches have to go home. But as I’m wed to the father and, yes, you nosy scum, we were wed pre-pregnancy, I’m good to go. Just kept the pregnancy secret for privacy reasons.”
“…but who is the-“
“Oh, don’t worry, once I tell him about this conversation, he’ll be visiting you and I have no doubt that that conversation will be less than pleasant for you.”
This time, it was Hermione’s turn to smirk.
“And don’t worry about that writing that speech,” Hermione turned to leave. “McGonagall is already practicing announcing, ‘Hermione Granger-Malfoy, class valedictorian.’”
The severity of the situation washed over Terry Boot in an instant.
“…Malfoy?”
“I’d sleep with one eye open if I were you,” Hermione warned, the smirk widening with every passing moment. “He already fucking hated you.”