TOADSTOOL

a Harry Potter One-Shot by .writer

A/N: For prompt #8 (toadstool) of my HP prompt table (see my website, link in profile). “This was all very strange, Hermione thought. Why would a Slytherin want to talk to a Gryffindor?” Hermione explains her perfectionism to Theodore Nott.

Sometimes Hermione really, really hated herself. Bloody damn perfectionist that she was, she had accepted Professor Sprout's offer of extra-credit for Herbology (not that she needed it) and now she was out in the Forbidden Forest looking for toadstools.

This would have been tolerable, except it was a Saturday, and a rainy, mucky Saturday as well.

As she shoved her damp hair back with one hand, Hermione dug in her pocket for something to tie it back with. Preoccupied with wrestling her hair into submission, she tripped over a protruding root and swore in a manner reminiscent of Ron.

“Regretting this already?” A male voice sounded from behind her. “And I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be stubborn.”

Hermione turned, wincing as her stubbed toe protested, to see Theodore Nott standing behind her with a small smirk on his face. The smirk widened as Hermione's face produced a scowl.

“Hufflepuffs are the determined ones, Nott,” she retorted before continuing her stride through the Forest. She could hear him following her.

“You caught me, Granger.” Nott's amused voice echoed through the forest. “But tell me, why are you doing this?”

“It's extra-credit.” Hermione held a branch away from her face. Without thinking, she held it back for Nott, who walked past her after giving her an odd look. Now side-by-side, they continued walking.

“That's just a statement, not an explanation, Granger.”

Hermione tilted her head to look up at him. He was half a head taller than her, with neat brown hair and dark green eyes. “Why do I need to explain myself to you, Nott?”

“Because I have a feeling that you don't explain yourself very often.” His voice didn't have the tone of an insult.

Hermione paused for a moment, then her feet continued stepping over the mossy ground. “What's that supposed to mean?” She was genuinely curious.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw his teeth flash in a smile. “It means that when it comes to anything academic, no one asks you why you do things. The fact that you're Hermione Granger is enough explanation for them.”

“But not for you?” she asked. He shook his head. “Why?” she persisted. “And how do you know that no one questions me?”

Nott caught her by the elbow, pulling her to a halt. For a second Hermione's mind spun with reasons for him to do that, most of them frightening. He was a Slytherin, after all. But then he knelt down and scooped up a small lizard that lay right where she had been about to step. Moving it off the path, he stood and brushed his hands off on his trousers, then continued walking. Hermione followed him, still waiting for his answer.

“I know that your friends don't question you because I'm not a blockhead. And your reputation as the smartest witch in Hogwarts isn't enough explanation for me because, again, I'm not a blockhead. I know that--” He paused, his brow creasing in the slightest way. Hermione wondered why it was so endearing.

“I know that people are more than their reputations,” he finished.

Hermione contemplated his words for a minute. “And this is first-hand knowledge?”

He laughed. “No, Granger. All Slytherins really are baby-killing, Death Eating maniacs. Honestly.”

She laughed and blushed at the same time. “Maybe you're right, Nott.”

“Call me Theo. And there's no maybe about it.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Is that so, Nott?”

“It's Theo, and yes. You just have to admit it.”

This entire conversation was surreal. Hermione was having a civil—not just that, but humorous—conversation with a Slytherin.”Alright. I admit it. There's more to me than my reputation. You are correct, Theo.”

His eyes sparked as she said his name. “Does this mean you'll tell me why you're picking toadstools instead of relaxing in the library like you want to?”

“Maybe I enjoy picking toadstools.” Hermione felt a perverse sense of satisfaction in avoiding the question.

Theo raised an eyebrow, then stopped walking to cast a look around the surrounding Forest at the mud and disheveled trees. He then turned his eyes to Hermione herself, running his gaze down her body, starting at her frazzled hair, then her dirty robes, and finally her slime-covered shoes. Hermione felt her skin prickle under his attention.

His quiet voice shook her out of her reverie. “Liar.”

She flushed. “Okay, so maybe I don't enjoy this. But it's always smart to do extra-credit projects.”

“Hermione,” he said, pausing after he spoke her name for the first time, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his lips.. “Hermione,” he continued. “You don't need to do extra-credit. You aced the last Herbology test.”

“How did you know...never mind. That isn't the point. I don't need it now, but someday I might.”

“Sure, if you crack your skull open.” His tone was dry.

Hermione scowled. “It's good to be prepared.”

“If you insist. In any case, I'm not arguing. Your overachieving behavior is what gave me the chance to talk to you. I was starting to think I would need to pull some strings to get you alone.” He gave her another odd look, then smirked and turned to continue strolling down the Forest path.

Hermione watched him go with a fluttery feeling in her stomach. This was all very strange, she thought. Why would a Slytherin want to talk to a Gryffindor?

And why was she so glad he did want to?

The questions danced through her head as he called back, “Come on, Hermione. Sprout will be disappointed if we don't get what we came for.” She walked quickly to catch up with him.

As she looked up at him, she decided that there were certain advantages to perfectionism.

THE END