Title: The Politics of Dating
Fandom: Harry Potter
Characters: Ellie Potter (Female Harry Potter), Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Draco Malfoy, others
Genre: romance, drama, teen
Warnings: I got nothing
Word Count: 997
Notes: I can’t believe I filled a prompt for lint. Keira, you magnificent bitch, this is your fault.
Synopsis: It’s a date, not a marriage proposal
“Ron. If you don’t stop staring I’m going to hex you bald.”
Since Ellie had done just that to a seventh year Ravenclaw only last week, it wasn’t an idle threat. Not that Ron would ever consider a threat from Ellie to be idle; she was positively evil when it came to getting one over someone who crossed her.
Ron blamed her godfather; the man was the most cheerfully vicious bastard ever. And Hermione because, after six years, the two witches shared a brain.
He huffed. “I can’t believe you said yes.”
“Of course I said yes, Ron, I spent a month maneuvering him into asking.”
Ron dropped his head to the table, thumped it several times, then glanced at Neville. “Utterly mad, the whole species.”
“I don’t think girls are another species, however much it seems like it some days.”
Hermione dropped a stack of books on the table with a thud. “It’s been three days. Move on.”
“She said yes. To Draco Malfoy.”
“It’s a date, Ronald, not a marriage proposal.”
He shuddered. “Never say that again.”
Ellie sighed and dropped her quill. “It’s one date, Ron — ”
“To the Yule Ball — and the festival in Hogsmeade.”
“ — and you asked Lavender.”
“She isn’t a prat who we’ve fought with since first year. You and Hermione have both punched him in the face, Ellie.”
“That was in third year, Ronald, he’s grown as a person,” Hermione said airily.
“You mean that Ellie’s spent years beating his superiority complex out of him,” Neville murmured. “Sometimes literally.”
“Also,” Ellie said as they all grinned, “he’s the prettiest bloke in school — including the students in the exchange program.”
“Not quite the endorsement I might hope for,” Malfoy drawled, dropping into the chair next to Ellie. “I’m not pretty.”
They snorted; Ellie arched a brow. “Drake, you’d make a prettier girl than I do.”
The horrified look on his face was amusing, Ron decided.
“Reconsidering your life choices yet, Malfoy?” Neville asked cheerfully. “No? Wait a week.” Ellie threw a ball of parchment at him.
Malfoy looked surprised and reluctantly amused; Ron decided to be magnanimous and give the other wizard a few survival tips. “Don’t be shocked, Malfoy; first thing you learn around us is that Ellie is terrifying when she’s angry. The second? That Nev’s sense of humour could draw blood.”
“And the third?”
“Death — yours — is the only excuse for not getting your homework done on time,” Ellie smirked at Hermione, who scowled.
“None of you would go a week without a detention if not for me.”
“Notice me not disagreeing — but I had a dislocated elbow and a broken wrist, and you forced me to learn a dictation spell.”
Hermione smirked. “And you’ve not had an excuse for not doing your work since then, have you?”
“Really, Draco? Blood traitors and mudbloods?”
“Nott,” he sighed, and they all glanced over at the three newcomers; Nott, Parkinson, and Goyle.
Pansy glaring at Ellie, who propped up her chin and smirked. “You —”
“Use your words, Pansy.”
“You man-stealing slag.”
“Really? That’s all you have?” Ellie shook her head. “See, Drake, this is what happens when you consider more than blood purity in acquaintances — you trade up.”
“You’re going to regret your choices, Draco,” Nott spoke over Pansy’s wordless shriek. “Potter’s barely better than a mudblood — are you really going to be associated with her in public?”
Ellie straightened, lifting her chin and her eyebrow, and went from an amused teenager to a noble lady, a transformation they’d seen before.
Especially Draco; Ellie had used that Look on him for years.
“If your argument had any substance, Nott, you wouldn’t need to stoop to crass vulgarity. How long will you be able to use your supposed superiority as a shield against the knowledge that you’re outmatched by most of those you disdain?” She smiled coolly. “Maybe if you worked at being a better wizard — you wouldn’t need to blame the people who surpass you for the fact that they do.”
“Pince is distracted,” Pansy hissed. “Do it now.” And they all stepped forward, menacingly.
And froze. Nott found a wand pressed to his belly — Neville hadn’t even shifted. Ellie twirled her wand in her hand. Hermione held a ball of blue flames in her bare hand. Ron had risen to stand eye-to-eye with Goyle, his recent growth spurt put to good use.
“You know, looking at it from this side? I’m not sure why I ever thought confronting you lot was a good idea.”
“Okay,” Ron conceded, “maybe he’s not a complete prat.”
“Thanks, Weasley. I think.”
Ellie stepped forward challengingly, still wearing her Lady of the Manor attitude like a cloak, and stared at Nott like he was a piece of lint. An insignificant speck to be flicked away.
“One day, Potter, you’re going to get put in your proper place,” Nott growled. “And I hope I’m the one to do it.”
Ellie grinned. “Westwood, did that sound like a threat to you?”
The Hufflepuff Head Boy appeared, frowning at the Slytherins. “Yes. You three — come with me. We’re going to talk to Professor Snape.”
“That,” Malfoy said admiringly, “was brilliant. You knew he was listening.”
“The prefects keep an eye on us, especially in the library. Why do you think we’re always right where someone looking for a fight can find us?” Ellie grinned as his jaw dropped.
“Why aren’t you in Slytherin, Eleanor?”
“Because it would be like hexing rats in a barrel.” Neville went back to his essay.
“There’s nothing cunning about proclaiming to the world you’re sneaky.” Hermione cracked a massive textbook.
“Because she’d have killed you in the first week.” Ron sat down and picked up his quill.
“Because I asked. Politely.” Ellie smirked at the stunned boy, patted his head, and went back to her homework. “Good thing you’re pretty, Drake.”
Malfoy swallowed; said, “You’re terrifying,” and blushed.