"Fucking move, Granger," Carson grumbled one morning. It was early September. If she looked outside, she could see the first signs of autumn approaching, with some of the leaves yellowing. There was a constant chilly yet crisp breeze that tended to keep many people firmly indoors. 

"What's gotten your knickers in a twist?" Hermione mumbled. Leave it to Carson Stupid Bones to ruin a day which would have been a perfectly good one had it not been for him and his mood swings.

"Why can't you just shut up, Granger?" Carson snapped. He clenched his jaw and wrenched open the door of the refrigerator. Hermione winced as he slammed a bottle of milk down on the table, then shut the door with unnecessary force. He had forgotten his daily apple. Hermione was about to point that out, but Carson glared at her. If looks could kill, Hermione might as well have died about now.

She felt thoroughly annoyed. A part of her wanted to smack him upside the head and ask him to stop being such a twat, while the other part of her wanted to go hide away in her bedroom until his bout of rage had passed. Hermione loathed the latter part of herself. 

Carson disappeared into his room without a word to her after he had managed to shove some oatmeal down his throat. The door to his bedroom slammed in place, and the part of her that she hated sagged with relief. If he was the kind to let out his anger physically and impulsively, Hermione was glad to know she wasn't near him. She would put up a fight, of course, but she had had enough of such moments in her life. 

It was a sunday. Usually, Hermione and Carson would watch a movie or something together in the morning before starting whatever work they had. Hermione looked at the telly as though it was to blame for Carson's foul attitude. 

As far as work was concerned, Hermione was doing good. She turned in all her paperwork in time, never missed any meetings, took control when it was asked of her and had become one of the favorite employees of the records section. Her own peers in the records department, however, did not approach her, and for that she was grateful. 

Hermione settled down on the kitchen table with some paperwork she had to turn in the next day. The only sound throughout the apartment was that of her quill scratching against parchment. Hermione basked in her momentary solitude, enjoying it very much.

Something silver zoomed in through the open kitchen window. Hermione's first instinct was to reach for her wand, but she relaxed when the ball of glowing silver light took the form of a majestic stag. Harry.

"We're coming to dinner today, if that's alright with you," the patronus spoke in Harry's voice, "send your reply as soon as possible, Ginny is making a fuss on what to wear, and if you say no at the last moment she'll throw a fit."

The patronus disappeared. Hermione shook her head, amused. Leave it to the Chosen One to always leave things until the last moment. She didn't even have anything nice to make for dinner. Not to mention, Carson was being the opposite of amicable.

Hermione sent her patronus in response, asking Ginny and Harry to come over whenever they liked. After she had watched the otter glide out the window, she huffed and sat down. 

Then, her thoughts changed to being positive. She had McGonnagal's letter to discuss with them. She was looking forward to that.

But they were coming for dinner, so that also meant there had to be something to eat, because what's dinner without food?

With a groan, Hermione began rummaging through their food supply in search of something suitable.

"What are you doing?"

Hermione smacked her head on the top of the cabinet in her haste to turn around. Carson let out a snort of laughter, but quickly covered it up with a bout of coughing. She muttered a swear, "Looking for food."

"You had breakfast," Carson pointed out.

"Harry and Ginny are coming for dinner," Hermione massaged her head to soothe the pain, "so I have to make something."

"Potter and Weasley?" Carson wrinkled his nose in distaste.

"Yes," Hermione said sternly, "be nice, please. Save being a prat for later when we're alone."

Carson smirked. Hermione could kick herself. She rolled her eyes, feigning nonchalance, "Not like that, you git."

"But I didn't say anything," Carson blinked innocently, "what are you thinking Granger?"

"You pathetic little-"

"Being rude again, I see."

"Oh, I'm being rude?" Hermione scoffed, "you're the one who hasn't spoken a decent word since morning."

"And you care because?" Carson said smugly. Hermione narrowed her eyes at his smug face.

"I will hex you."

-----

Hermione opened the door to Ginny and Harry.

"Hello, 'Mione," Ginny gave her a hug. 

"I am sorry to say," Hermione said regretfully, "but there's not much for dinner."

"Ah, I knew we'd hit this snag," Harry chuckled.

"We brought some food," Ginny explained, "so we can eat that as well."

"Alright." If there ever was an award for most terrible host, it would be Hermione who received it. 

"Is that apple pie I smell?" Harry lifted his nose in the air and sniffed, "so you made pie?"

"No," Hermione said, equally curious. She walked to the kitchen, and was right on time to see Carson placing a freshly baked, steaming pie on the tabletop. He looked up and grinned.

"Hello, love," Carson said while smirking. He stowed his wand in his pocket.

Hermione paled. What was he doing? 

Ginny quirked an eyebrow, while Harry looked conflicted between strangling Carson and looking at the delicious smelling pie. After a few moments the latter won, and he glared murderously at Carson.

"Are you two," Ginny asked, grinning slyly, "together?"

"No!" Hermione's voice came out a squeak. She was absolutely stunned at what he had just done. 

"Why, I'm hurt, Hermione," Carson placed a hand on his heart, "we've been together for nearly three months now."

"What the-" Hermione turned to Carson, but he interrupted her by leaning down and placing a chaste kiss on her cheeks. The place where his lips grazed her cheek burned, and she felt herself blush profusely. She sputtered, trying to form any coherent phrases to reprimand him.

"I have something to do before bed, so I'll be off now," Carson said softly. He nodded politely at Ginny and Harry, then walked to his room and shut the door.

Ginny immediately cast a silencing charm on the kitchen so that any further conversation wouldn't be heard by Carson. Then, the fiery redhead turned to face Hermione, who was still standing as still as a lonely rock on a cliff, her mouth gaping open.

"Care to explain?" Harry was the first to speak. He looked slightly annoyed, at who, Hermione didn't know. 

"I swear, that's not what it looked like," Hermione shook her head profusely, "I don't know why he did that, he wasn't supposed to-"

"Do that in front of us?" Harry said coldly. He sat down on one of the chairs and looked Hermione straight in the eye. The tension in the kitchen tautened.

"Are you insinuating that I'm lying to you?" Hermione's voice had turned shrill. She felt a pounding headache building up.

"No, Hermione, just listen," Ginny said, trying to lighten the atmosphere thick with tension, "what Harry means to say is that-"

"I meant exactly what I said," Harry snapped, "you could have told us, Hermione! We're your friends!"

"Did you hear me say anything to support the contrary?" Hermione replied, her voice still several octaves high. 

"Then why wouldn't you tell us?" Harry pressed on.

"Because there is nothing to tell, Harry!" Hermione shrieked, "Stop targeting me! There is nothing between us, do you hear? He and I are just friends and that's how it'll always be."

"Looks like he's got more than friendship on his mind," Harry said bitterly. Hermione stumbled back, leaning against the counter for support. Her head was spinning with memories. Harry immediately realised his mistake, and his eyes widened, "Hermione, I'm sorry, please-"

"Stop it," Hermione hissed, jerking away from Harry. She ignored the desperation and hurt in his eyes, "you guys can have the food, and go home. I don't feel like eating."

Definitely the worst host. 

Hermione ignored Ginny when she tried to reach out and stop her. She could feel hot, angry tears stinging her eyes. As if life wasn't already as dark and dreary as possible, now her friends didn't trust her. Her best friends.

That foul, pathetic, little abomination of a man. 

Hermione stomped her way to Carson's room. She wrenched the door open, and found him seated on the edge of his bed, reading a letter.

Hermione cast a muffliato with a nonverbal, then balled her fists and turned to Carson.

"Fancy seeing you here," Carson said passively. 

"Care to explain why you did what you did back there?" Hermione's voice was laced with venom, and in the dark room and tense silence, she sounded dangerous. And she hated it.

"Just having a bit of fun," Carson shrugged as though he hadn't just given her a kiss on the cheek in front of her friends. 

"Fun?" Hermione said, now sounding positively furious, "Is this all a joke to you? I just fought with Harry because of what you did, and you think this is all good fun?"

"Yes," Carson stood and looked her in the eye, he walked around the bed to where she was standing near the door, "why is it such a big problem?"

"Because we're not together!" Hermione shrieked, the tears finally spilling down her cheeks, "Why are you so intent on ruining my life?"

"Why do you hate me so much?"

Hermione felt like she'd been punched. She took heaving breaths and backed away as much as possible from Carson. When she didn't answer, Carson laughed humorlessly.

"That's all the answer I need," Carson said in a low voice, "what else could I expect from the Gryffindor Princess? It's a big deal enough that she's friends with, living with, a Slytherin. Why would she ever like a pureblood, prejudiced, Slytherin, who had fought on the dark side of the war?"

Hermione was speechless. Hearing all this self depreciation from Carson made her feel strangely hurt. 

"Why do you think that?" Hermione asked in a near whisper.

"Doesn't matter," Carson muttered, "why are you talking to me now?"

"Because you literally called me 'love'" Hermione threw her hands up in frustration, the small shred of sympathy for him faded, "kissed me, and talked to me as if we are- are- together!"

"And what would be so wrong about that?" Carson asked, his face devoid of any expression, "Face it, Granger. You're ashamed of being associated with a Slytherin. A Gryffindor Slytherin relationship is unheard of."

Hermione only started at him through the tears that blurred her vision.

"For all your talk of equality and second chances," Carson stooped so that his face was level with hers, "you're a terrible hypocrite."

Carson turned away, and Hermione began taking heaving breaths. Carson's shoulders tensed, but he made no move to check if she was alright. 

Hermione turned and left. Ginny and Harry were gone.

She hated to admit it, but he was right. She was tainted with her own prejudices and petty rivalries. 

-----

The next two weeks passed in agonising silence. They didn't speak to each other, both feeling the need to apologise, but both held on to their egos. 

Over dinner on Saturday, they were seated at opposite ends of the table as per usual. Both were jittery, and kept glancing at each other. Several times they'd open their mouths as though to say something, only to end up clamping it shut again. It was very stressful.

"I-" Hermione began, then stopped herself. What was she supposed to say? 

"Save it, Granger," Carson said coldly, "you have nothing to apologise for. I shouldn't have- I shouldn't have done what I did."

Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat. 

"And I shouldn't have been," Hermione searched for the word, "so harsh about it."

"Yours was a natural reaction," Carson muttered, picking at his salad, "I'm sorry about your fight with Potter."

Hermione nodded, "You were right."

"About what?" Carson questioned, finally looking up from his food at her face.

"About me," Hermione shrugged, "I am a hypocrite."

"Everyone is," Carson said simply.

They lapsed into silence. 

Hermione hadn't heard from Harry in nearly two weeks. She had been leaving alone for work, and had been all alone while at the Ministry, because she had no other friends or even acquaintances. She missed Ginny and Harry awfully. 

When they had finished eating and each washed their plates, Carson turned to her.

"Let's watch a movie," Carson said, very serious. Hermione looked at him, properly confused.

"Are you sure you want to watch a movie with me?" Hermione asked quietly, "I don't know, because you might feel- are you sure?"

"Yes," Carson answered affirmatively.

Roasted honey met molten silver. Something sparked, but neither could tell what it was.

"Alright."