Crabbe was so shocked to be introduced to Hermione that he spit crackers all over her, and Goyle simply stood and looked at her with his mouth wide open. Pansy Parkinson burst into tears every time Hermione walked by her, and Hermione flatly refused to be introduced to Millicent Bulstrode, as the memory of the headlock Millicent had put her into in second year still stung. Some of the other Slytherins weren't so bad, but Hermione didn't feel comfortable around them.
'Whenever they look at me,' she said to Parvati — she would have preferred to talk to Ron, but since he was always with Harry, that was nearly impossible — 'I feel like they're mentally sharpening knives in my direction.'
'They're not the nicest people, that's true,' agreed Parvati, who was applying an eyelash-lengthening charm in front of the mirror in their dormitory room. 'But surely they can't all be worthless, can they?'
'Aside from Draco, you mean?' said Hermione, who was lying on the bed watching Parvati.
'Well, obviously, since you're dating him.'
'We are NOT dating,' protested Hermione.
'You're not?' Parvati was so astonished she accidentally elongated her eyelashes to nearly a foot in length, and Hermione had to help her shrink them back. When this process was finished, Parvati repeated her question, and Hermione sighed.
'We're not,' she said. 'We're just friends.'
'You want to know something, Hermione?' said Parvati earnestly. 'You being friends with Draco Malfoy… that's even weirder than you dating him.'
'Why?' asked Hermione curiously.
'Well, if you were dating him, I could put it down to uncontrollable physical attraction. I mean, he is cute. That's a fact. But if you're just friends with him…'
Parvati shrugged. 'You must actually like him.'
Hermione rolled over on her bed and looked up at the ceiling. 'I do like him,' she said.
'Despite the fact that he's spoiled, selfish, has a bad temper and a mean sense of humor, likes to pick on people who are weaker than him and..' Parvati trailed off at the look on Hermione's face. 'Well, he does,' she said.
'I know,' said Hermione. 'Not so much as before, but…he's a good person really, Parvati.'
Parvati turned around and looked at Hermione, hard. 'Then why aren't you dating him?'
'Because…'
'Because he's not Harry,' said Parvati, showing a rare amount of insight.
Hermione turned over on the bed restlessly. 'Not any more,' she said.
'Oh, go on, Ron,' said Harry crossly. 'Just do it.'
'I will NOT,' replied Ron, sounding equally cross. He was hovering in midair on his broomstick over the Quidditch field, facing Harry, who was sitting astride his Firebolt with his arms crossed and looking furious. They'd been engaged in flying practice for about an hour before Harry had made his rather peculiar request of Ron, and both boys were flushed and irritable. Harry's white shirt was sticking to his back with sweat.
'Why not?' Harry snapped. 'Just knock me off my broomstick. Come on, have a go!'
'Why not?' echoed Ron in disbelief. 'How about because I don't want to spend the rest of term explaining to Dumbledore why I murdered you in cold blood for no apparent reason?'
'Dumbledore said the Magid power would manifest itself if I faced danger,' said Harry. 'It won't work if I just jump off my broom. I have to be scared. And if you won't help, I'll just go into the Forbidden Forest and feed myself to Aragog.'
'Harry,' said Ron desperately, 'Dumbledore also said that the power manifests itself between the ages of sixteen and eighteen. You're only sixteen. Give it a rest already!'
'Malfoy's only sixteen, too-' 'Oh, shut up about Malfoy!' yelled Ron in a rage. 'I'm sick of hearing about him!
Just because he's dating Hermione doesn't mean I'm going to help you kill yourself!'
Harry's eyes narrowed to angry green slits. He seized his wand, and before Ron knew what was happening, Harry had pointed the wand at him and shouted 'Rapido!'
Ron's broom shot forward uncontrollably, Ron barely hanging onto it, and plowed into Harry, knocking him sideways off his Firebolt. Ron, hardly managing to steady his own broomstick, saw Harry plummeting to the ground. He grabbed for his wand, aimed it at the rapidly falling Harry, and hissed, 'Wingardium leviosa!'
Harry, who hadn't made a sound while he was falling, yelped as his flight was arrested ten feet from the ground. He hung there in midair, looking reproachfully at Ron. 'Idiot,' muttered Ron, and moved his wand so that it was no longer pointing at Harry.
Harry fell the remaining ten feet and landed on the bare ground of the Quidditch field.
Ron sighed, pointed his broomstick downward, and came to a swooshing halt next to Harry, who was lying spread-eagled on the ground, staring up at the sky and looking as if he never intended to get up.
'Zero,' said Harry glumly. 'Zip. Nada. I have NO Magid powers. At least, not at the moment.'
'Harry,' said Ron, getting off his broom, 'has it occurred to you that wanting to be able to turn Draco Malfoy into a slug and step on him is not a good enough reason for your Magid powers to start working?'
Harry put his hands over his face and said something that sounded like 'Urgh.'
'There must some other way to get your powers working,' said Ron, 'Some way that doesn't involve you risking your life.'
