There was something that Iola had once told Harry, not truly knowing whether or not it was factual at the time, but it was outstandingly clear to her after everything.

Hermione was not the best teacher, or rather, she grew easily frustrated when she wasn't quite able to fully express the way something was meant to be done or she grew flustered when the notes she had written herself didn't fully function the way that she had researched it to be.

Regardless of this simple trait, the sort of thing that showed that she was much more accustomed to working with Harry and Ron as Iola suspected, it was quite easy for Iola to keep up herself. She was remarkably intelligent, impossibly so, and following along to what Hermione was attempting to teach her was simple.

The spell, as difficult as it was, turned out to be rather easy for Iola when she finally understood what it was that Hermione was attempting to explain to her. It was simple after that.

As the name suggested, the spell produced a ghastly, glowing green ghost head that attacked whoever and whatever she wanted it to. It was a little like oppugno in that sense, but this was capable of moving through things, phasing through spells as it attacked and seeped into you -- they had learnt that the hard way, unfortunately, when attempting the spell and it had gone through Hermione's spell and around her protego when she had thrown it up.

She had experienced the attack many times over as well, her regular training routine called for her to know exactly what sort of pain that she was willing to put others in. It was a sort of knock in the chest that flattened her and left her unconscious for only a few seconds at a time toward the end of the training session.

Hermione was lucky to have been given the chance to work on the spell. Together, it turned out, they worked rather well.

They had the same sort of work ethic, the same sort of drive and ambition paired with the same sort of intellect, that they accomplished the task with the same precision and speed that Aveline had always demanded of her.

It was a nice change to face someone at the same speed that she needed whilst simultaneously getting the push without the fear of reprimand and punishment.

Part of her, still, wanted to face that sort of punishment, face that sort of discipline that felt her with marks of her failure, with marks that shamed her into working harder, being better, than she was and ever could be.

It would be ridiculous to consider that the younger girl could replace her mother in any way, not when she barely knew her, hardly liked her and didn't care for her enough to let her into her life so intimately. It was a one time deal that she knew that she would always have to stick with because the likeliness of Iola ever having to see her again once she left was truly slim to nothing.

There was no reason for her to make any further acquaintance to these people when the year was have gone as it was. When the time came, she would be going back to Beauxbatons to spend the remaining few weeks after the tournament with whomever she deemed worthy of being in her graces once more to only return to the empty villa.

Iola paused, watching as Hermione finished returning the classroom to its original state, her hand frozen mid-spell as she collected the books that had been tossed and papers scattered.

Returning to her empty home was a daunting thought, a terrible, unwelcome idea that formed an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach, flipping as though she was going to be sick.

The Villa was a family home, the Bouchard family home that was passed to the eldest child upon the retirement of their parents, and as things stood, Aveline was forcibly retired for good. Iola was the last Bouchard and the last, she assumed, of her mother's side of the Travers family.

The girl had never met the cousins that had opted to remain in the United Kingdom upon the split. When they had settled in France there had been no further contact with any of them. She had always known that there was only her mother, but now there was really only her mother -- a glaring fact that made her sway where she stood, the ground shifting unsteadily beneath her.

France would be only her and Ponpy. It would be empty halls that were no longer filled with fear for the moment of Aveline's return, but at the promise that no one would ever seek her out.

"Are you alright, Iola?" Hermione asks kindly.

Her smile is quick, immediate. "Of course. I am perfectly well."

"Are you sure? You look like you could use a seat."

"I am certain. I am a little hungry, I think," she redirects. "It is time for soupé, non? Shall we go?"

"I can speak a little French if that would make you more comfortable."

Iola laughs softly. "No, it is fine. It is good to practice my English when I have the chance. I think I am better since I am here, yes?"

Hermione's smile is soft, quirked with a secret laugh and hidden quip that she was likely never to say. It made it a little more clear to her now why Dinah liked the girl so much. There were certain traits that you look for in people, apparently, certain things that Helene claimed that you're attracted to.

For Helene, the timid girl preferred kindness. Any idiot could be brave or bold, anyone could be gentlemanly or smart-mouthed, but not many people were genuinely kind. It was an admirable thing to search for in a partner, to search for that feeling in their soul before you let yourself love.

It was difficult for her to understand, at first, when she could not even begin to know what love felt like, but it was a sweet thought.

As it was, Dinah with her claims of already being in love, said it was the honesty of their smiles that attracted her most. It was the open display of joy and affection that made her want those smiles aimed toward her.

This was a little more difficult for Iola to place, a little more difficult for her to make sense of, but she accepted that love was different for each person, that how it was felt and experienced varied much for a Patronus might.

But it was clearer now as the fog lifted and she could begin to identify the details behind Hermione's smile that only grew to be more open and relaxed, her laughter that was free and honest, that she noticed how certain details about a person could make you like them a little more.

Iola was a chameleon, she could be just about anything that people wanted her to be, but that never meant that she knew how to recognize an emotion, that she knew how to identify it or even what it felt like. She had never been allowed to learn before now.

She had never wanted to understand before this moment because faced with Hermione's smile Dinah's words ran through her, Helene's words ran through her mind, and she realized that there were things that she searched for in George above all others -- things that she only wanted and got from him, things that she sought him out for.

And it terrified her if only a little.

How dare he make her feels these terrible, foreign emotions that she wanted nothing to do with? How dare she let it go so far?

"Do you want to join us?" Hermione asks, pointing to the table were Harry sat with the Weasley's and a few of their other friends.

The hall was loud, but the table just seemed to be louder as they attempted to speak over one another's conversation, aiming to make themselves heard by simply getting louder and louder.

Already her head ached.

"I think not today. Perhaps in the morning when it is not so..." Iola trails off with a vague gesture to her ears.

The younger girl perks up at that. "I'll join you at the Ravenclaw table for breakfast, then! You sit with Dinah and Helene, right?"

She schools her features into an innocent expression. "Most days, yes. Sofie and Fleur take breakfast in the carriage lately. They think it is too cold to make the walk most days, but they might join us as well," she mentions.

"You don't have to pretend that everything is alright with your friends. Harry, Ron and I fight all the time. It's alright to be at odds."

"We are not at odds," she denies harshly.

"Harry and Ron didn't speak to me for three months last year," Hermione admits.

"Your point?"

"My point is that friends fight but if they truly care for you then they'll always come around."

"Thank you, but I do not need advice on how to handle my relationships. I have plenty of time to speak to them when I wish."

"That's true. Look, I don't mean to pry. I just believe that you deserve better than how everyone has been treating you. I see the way they look at you, Iola, and I know that I'm just as guilty because I've done the same thing," she said. "You haven't done anything wrong, yet people are treating you like you're the villain here opposed to... well..."

"I know that they treat me as though I am my mother, but I am well on the way to correcting this. I tell you this before, I do not need your pity."

Hermione sighs. "Fine, deal with it as you would. I'll see you for breakfast, right?"

"Of course, I am always here early. I can bring Viktor if you wish."

"Oh, I'm not sure..."

"It is fine. I also think it odd how he always look but never says much," Iola says airily. "I am sure Dinah would no like having him there with us. Do you think she is the jealous type?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she denies.

Iola scoffs. "Please, I may not know much about romance and feelings, but I am not stupid. I can see how you look at Dinah and I know how she likes you. It is not hard to see. I do not understand why you pretend still." 

"No one is pretending. I'm not pretending anything, and if I were, then I would have a bloody good reason to do so." 

"I suppose that is true. You are allowed to take you time. I think it will happen soon," she says, leaning back so her shoulder rest against the thick wooden door of the Great Hall. "Though, you might not pretend about Dinah, but you still pretend about Ron, no? I think it will work out nicely in the end." 

Hermione is silent for a moment as she observes the dining room. She isn't sure where her attention lies -- with the Gryffindors or the Ravenclaws -- but whoever it is, they have captured her focus decidedly, impossibly strong and intent. She wasn't surprised, feelings were easily distracting.  

"You have quite a few strong opinions for someone that claims to know nothing of love," she finally says. 

"Yes, I am an eager student, you know. We had spent many hours together learning how formidable we are in this sense, n'est ce pas?" Iola states with a shrug.

She snorts. "You are much more pleasant than the other Beauxbatons students." 

"That is true, but they are not all so... difficult most of the time. Normally, they are much more approachable. I think they were simply not expecting such a change. It is difficult when you do not know the language. I, too, have difficulty at first." 

"If I'm honest, they acted like right snobs." 

She tamps down her immediate desire to argue, to demand that she takes back her words this instant and never speak an odd word against her school again. She doesn't, swiftly pulling herself together. 

"We all are snobs in some way. You, too, are a snob in some sense, I am sure. It is not so bad. Fleur is nice. She is loyal and honest. Sophie is sweet and loving, Francois is kind. Beauxbatons is not so bad when you know us," Iola remarks diplomatically. "You will see in the morning, I am sure. I will eat with them if only to prove a point." 

Hermione laughs. "I have no doubt." 

A burst of music comes from the Gryffindor table, both girls wincing at the horrible sound. There, climbing onto the long table, was Fred with his hair combed back with a handful of flowers. His brother was seated directly below him with his wand held out and a hand covering his mouth to stifle his laughter. 

"Helene Fawley! Girl as sweet as honey, you make my heart beat funny. Apple of my eye, I want you at my side. Just give me the word and you can be my bird," he sings off-key, flowers crumpled against his chest as he held a hand out to serenade the girl. 

"Oh no," Hermione moans, cheeks quickly turning a startling red. 

Iola nods. "How embarrassing." 

"You say I am not the right one, that we aren't meant to be, but I swear, I won't let you down, Helene. Give me a try, I want to be your guy!" 

Snickers ring through the hall, the Slytherin table oddly the loudest of the bunch, and she finds that she has her wand in hand without a thought, the familiar weight the only thing that keeps her from lashing out so swiftly. 

At the Ravenclaw table, ducked down far in her seat with her hands covering her mouth, was Helene with eyes wide with mortification. Dinah was at her side, shaking as another boy from the house whispered rapidly to the pair of them. 

"Please do me the honour of taking you on the date of your dreams?" Fred finishes, fireworks going off around him. The professors at the head table are swiftly standing, the scary one, Macgonnagal, was striding down to meet the boy with a rather stern expression.

It wasn't swift enough for Iola as she watches Helene jump from her seat, Dinah close behind, trailing as she was unsure if she wants to comfort her friend or confront the idiot boy. 

No, Iola was deftly dealing with the fireworks that spelt out the poor girl's and spinning to watch after Helene as she flees the laughter with tears on her cheeks. 

"You should go after her," Hermione suggested voice deadly calm. 

"I am no sure I can help," Iola admits, glancing back to the twins that were being led out by the professor and a rapidly speaking Dinah. 

"You're better help than you think," Hermione tells her.  "Just as Dinah can be quite terrifying if she wishes. I'll help her in that sense. He won't get off so easily." 

Nodding slowly, she takes steady steps back. "Thank you, Hermione. I will see to Helene. I will see you in the morning." 

"I'll be sure to warn George of your ire." 

Iola grins, eyes falling to the boy just as he caught sight of her. "Oh, I believe that he knows." 

°°°
Vote,
Comment,
& follow me om wattpad

well that rhyming was actually a lot harder than i thought and it's not even good lol i hope yall enjoy it because i struggle

2020-05-24

unedited