Chapter 2: Ravenclaw Prefects

Allowing her consciousness to slide back into focus, Hermione's eyes opened blearily and she blinked a few times. She sighed happily into the fluffy Hogwarts pillow, warm and comfortable. She was home.

Memory popped her mood like a balloon as the events of the previous night resurfaced. As always when she began to panic, reviewing the facts made reality less painful.

It was Wednesday, the second of September, 1998 and her final year at Hogwarts had officially begun the previous evening. In her heart, she was a Gryffindor. But in this new arrangement, she was a Ravenclaw.

That was the part that made her the most nervous. She did not know how to be a Ravenclaw. She was programmed to trundle up seven flights of stairs to Gryffindor Tower and give a password to the familiar Fat Lady, dressed in a horrible pink silk dress. Then she knew to go through the round hole behind the portrait into the welcoming and warm common room, where she would ascend the girls' staircase and flop onto her four-poster bed with red-and-gold hangings. The view from the windows would be of the expansive Hogwarts grounds, including Hagrid's hut, where curling smoke from the chimney would be reassuringly the same it always had been.

Instead, she now would wend her way to the west wing of the fifth floor, where a spiral staircase climbed the interior of a tall castle spire. The windows here were tall, some made of stained glass and others offering a view of the castle's central courtyard. The entrance was an oaken door with a bronze door-knocker in the shape of an eagle's head that functioned as guardian.

Located in the eighth year girls' dormitory in one of the turrets off the main tower, Hermione's new bed was just as comfortable as the Gryffindor ones had always been. They were reassuringly similar in that they were also four-posters, but the hangings were the color of the sky and made of silk.

"Hermione?" a vaguely familiar voice queried.

She pulled the curtains back from her bed with some reluctance, revealing Padma Patil waiting for her. Padma was one of the few people from Hermione's year who found herself still in her original House. For a moment, Hermione could pretend that she was her twin sister Parvati, and that this was really no different from Gryffindor after all.

"Good morning," Hermione greeted.

"Good morning," Padma echoed back. "The eighth years have all been called into the common room by Professor Flitwick to give us our schedules and make sure we're comfortable."

"Oh."

Hermione glanced around the dormitory, where there were beds for five girls, including herself. She was the only Gryffindor.

One of the girls Hermione vaguely recognized introduced herself. "I'm Lisa Turpin." She had olive skin, a delicate, heart-shaped face, and a short bob of brown hair, cropped severely under her chin. "Hufflepuff - or I was."

"Sue Li," another of the girls spoke up, a tiny Asian girl who could not have been more than five feet tall. She was pulling her long, jet black hair into a comfortable ponytail. "Ravenclaw."

Hermione began, "I'm Hermione Granger-"

"We know who you are," Lisa informed her.

"You're famous," Sue agreed.

"Oh."

The four girls shared a tentatively companionable silence. Hermione glanced toward the fifth bed, which was already empty.

Noticing the draw of her gaze, Padma explained, "That Slytherin girl, Daphne Greengrass, also got sorted here. She got up early and left. I think she's already downstairs."

"I see," Hermione answered. Perhaps Daphne Greengrass was feeling uncomfortable at being the only Slytherin girl. Padma and Sue were probably quite close already, having shared the Ravenclaw dormitory for seven years together.

"This year is going to be weird," Lisa sighed.

Hermione did not audibly agree, but she felt the heavy truth of that statement. She threw her clothes on, including her new blue-and-bronze uniform tie, and headed down the stairs into the Ravenclaw common room with the other three girls.

Waiting for them there was ancient Professor Flitwick, so tiny he had to stand on a stool at the head of the room to be seen. Hermione glanced around at the other assembled eighth years.

The aforementioned Daphne Greengrass was seated on one of the far couches with Malfoy and Zabini, the three of them wearing identical expressions of haughtiness as they took in their surroundings. Another boy Hermione did not know was chatting with Ernie Macmillan.

"Hermione," Ernie greeted cordially, his enormous ears sticking out more than ever, "I just knew you'd be in Ravenclaw. It's odd to be giving up Hufflepuff after all these years… but the things we do in the name of unity, eh?"

Ernie had always been rather pompous, but Hermione liked him. Offering him a smile, she noticed a shiny Head Boy badge pinned to the front of his robes and congratulated him on it. He offered her a genial smile and they made a short exchange of oddly formal pleasantries that strongly reminded Hermione of conversations she had once had with a teen-aged Percy Weasley. Lisa, who hadn't really left her side since they'd all entered the common room, soon took over the conversation. Hermione was surprised how much social relief she felt at being included in a group of some kind.

Glancing about, she was able to take in the sight of the common room in daylight for the first time. It was large and airy, almost cavernous thanks to the vaulted ceiling, which was painted with stars like the night sky. The space was wide and circular with tall, many-paned windows draped with blue and bronze silk curtains. The view of the grounds was unparalleled: the Black Lake sparkled distantly in the sunlight, and the herbology gardens, Quidditch pitch, and Forbidden Forest were dwarfed only by the outlying Scottish mountains.

The room was positively covered in bookcases, which stretched up every inch of the walls and also interspersed themselves throughout the room. Tables and chairs were arranged in small groups throughout. Hermione compared the room to the library, noting small touches such as the plush midnight blue carpeting that gave the area a warmer feeling.

The two Hufflepuffs and the group of Slytherins also seemed to be taking in their new quarters. Padma and Sue engaged the boy Hermione did not recognize in conversation and she deduced he must also be a returning Ravenclaw.

She was the only Gryffindor, she noticed.

"Welcome back, eighth years," squeaked Professor Flitwick. "This will be a transition year for you all, not merely because of the re-sorting but because you're returning to finish an education that, under usual circumstances, would have already been completed."

Daphne dipped her head toward Zabini and Malfoy to mutter something inaudible. The two boys' expressions did not change but Malfoy's gaze floated lazily toward Hermione, who was determined not to pay the Slytherins any attention.

"Ravenclaw has always acquitted itself well amongst themselves and other Houses," Flitwick continued. "I hope that will not change. Having taught you all for seven years, I am very aware that each of you was sent here by the Sorting Hat because you are all intelligent, clever individuals."

Silence reigned amongst the eighth years. Ernie alone looked pleased, the rest looked tense.

"As the Headmistress announced last night," Flitwick went on, "alchemical studies are being offered this year, to qualifying NEWT students… that's Miss Li, Mr. Rivers, Miss Granger, Mr. Macmillan, and Mr. Malfoy. The five of you have all achieved the necessary OWLs to study alchemy this year, should you wish. Do any of you have any interest?"

All five responded with nods and murmured assents.

"Excellent," their Head of House hummed to himself, updating their schedules with a flick of his wand.

Once Flitwick had finished reviewing everyone's classes - Hermione tuned him out at the mention of Xylomancy - she examined the schedule she was handed, noticing that all their classes were mixed with at least one other House. She felt a creeping sense of relief at knowing she would not be alone. Because of the small number of eighth years, and also being reduced in number because of the advanced NEWT level, all of her classes except Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Charms were comprised of all four Houses.

Transfiguration was with the Slytherins, Defense was with the Hufflepuffs, and Charms was with the Gryffindors. That meant she would have Harry, Ron, and Neville respectively, for each of the subjects. The rest of her classes must have small numbers, because they were combined.

With her class schedule decided, she began to wonder how the others had done in their new arrangements overnight.

The four Ravenclaw girls headed down the spiral staircase toward the Great Hall for breakfast. Daphne Greengrass had separated herself off from them again, preferring to walk with Malfoy and Zabini.

As they descended, Lisa leaned in toward her companions and conspiratorially whispered, "Does anyone else think it's weird that we got the former Death Eater in our House?"

Hermione glanced at the back of the platinum blond head that was walking several paces ahead of them but said nothing. Her mind flashed to a memory of that night at Malfoy Manor when she had been tortured by Bellatrix. She managed to successfully push the thought away, but the inside of her arm itched where that word was still freshly branded. Instinctively, she pulled her sleeve down.

"He was second in our year from first through fifth years," Sue answered by way of explanation. "I know because I tried to beat him, but couldn't and ended up third."

"He was?" Lisa gasped. "He must be smart, but I had no idea. Who's first then?"

Padma grinned and jerked her head toward Hermione.

"Oh, right."

Hermione smiled, despite herself.

"Hermione!" Ginny called from across the Great Hall the moment they stepped through the doors. She gestured to a seat next to herself and Harry at the Slytherin table.

"I can't sit with you, Ginny," Hermione reminded her friend as she approached. "We were re-sorted, remember?"

"Oh, no one cares about that," Ginny snapped. "See?"

Luna was seated opposite her. Hermione glanced at the teachers' table, but there did not seem to be any resistance from that end, so she sat.

"How was your night in the eagle's nest?" Ginny queried.

"Nice enough," answered Hermione, helping herself to some toast.

"I do like your Gryffindor Tower," Luna remarked dreamily. "It's cozy."

Hermione felt a pang of jealousy, but ruthlessly shoved it away.

"The Slytherin dungeons are so dreary," Ginny complained emphatically. "Honestly, who uses skulls as decoration? So medieval…"

"Ron seems pleased enough in Hufflepuff," Luna observed.

Ron was seated alongside Seamus Finnegan, who also sported a yellow-and-black tie, and the boys were currently participating in an animated discussion. Hermione experienced another stab of jealousy: Ron had Seamus, while Harry had Ginny to help them adapt to their new Houses, but she had no one…

"The Slytherin commons have an underground view of the lake through the windows," Ginny went on. "In fact, I'm pretty sure I saw the giant squid last night…"

"There are mermaids sometimes, too," a drawling voice interrupted them.

Hermione and Ginny whipped around to come face-to-face with Draco Malfoy. From across the table, Harry queried, "Can we help you, Malfoy?"

In a much more hostile tone of voice, Ginny added, "Spit it out, ferret, then get lost."

Frowning deeply, Malfoy's jaw had clenched like it actually hurt to bite back whatever comment he wanted to throw at Ginny in return. To everyone's surprise, he turned to Hermione, "McGonagall wants to see us."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Us?"

He looked almost bored, his pale, pointed face betraying nothing. "Us… as in, me and you, to go see McGonagall. Now."

"I'll see you in a bit," Hermione bid goodbye to her friends before any of them could protest. She took a piece of toast with her and followed her new housemate to the head table, where McGonagall had assembled a small group of eighth year students before her.

"The re-sorting did not dictate my choice of Head Boy and Girl, but I had to wait until last night to finalize my choices for prefects," McGonagall told the group. "That being said, I was hoping for the eight of you to take on those responsibilities for your new Houses."

Hermione glanced around the small cluster of her peers. Hannah Abbott and Anthony Goldstein were representing Gryffindor, while Justin Finch-Fletchley and Mandy Brocklehurst represented Hufflepuff, and Susan Bones and Dean Thomas had Slytherin.

She knew what that meant: she would be expected to patrol with Malfoy.

Wonderful.

McGonagall bestowed them all with some prefect badges and patrol schedules. The rotation indicated that Hermione and Draco would be responsible for patrolling the corridors on Monday and Thursday evenings.

She vaguely wondered why McGonagall had made Malfoy a prefect at all. It was not like he had a spotless record. But then, she supposed, neither did she. Still, he had let Death Eaters into Hogwarts…

"As decided before the start of term," the Headmistress continued, "Ernie Macmillan and Padma Patil will be acting as Head Boy and Girl for all of first term, and will retire their titles after the Christmas holidays. Splitting the year for our chosen Heads will allow for representation from the seventh years for the remainder of the school year. I'm sure Mr. Macmillan and Miss Patil will want to call a prefects' meeting before long, so be prepared."

After answering a few questions, McGonagall dismissed them to call up her chosen prefects from seventh year, likely to impart the same information.

"Well, Malfoy, looks like we're stuck on patrol together," Hermione said quietly to the former-Slytherin. If she was going to be working closely with him all year, she had decided it would be prudent not to be completely standoffish.

He shot her an inscrutable look and stalked off without responding. Hermione sighed and returned to the Slytherin table, where Ron had joined the group.

"The Hufflepuff dorms are right next to the kitchens," Ron told her excitedly, "and there's no password. You just waltz right in… and if I fancy a midnight snack, I can just leave and go next-door to get one. The house elves are very obliging…"

"You are going to be as big as a hippogriff by the end of the year," Hermione retorted, amused despite herself.

"So what did Malfoy want?" Ginny wanted to know.

"He and I were made Ravenclaw prefects."

"Who in their right mind would make Malfoy a prefect after all the things he's done?" Ginny demanded angrily.

"Maybe it's because of everything he's done that he was made a prefect," Luna pointed out contemplatively.

"What do you mean?" Harry wondered, brow furrowed.

"Perhaps it's his chance at redemption," Luna replied matter-of-factly, turning back to her porridge.

"Well, redemption or not, you have to ask McGonagall to switch you," Ron insisted seriously. "You can't go wandering around the corridors at night with Ferret Face waiting to hex you behind your back…"

"No," Hermione said firmly.

"What do you mean 'no'…?"

"I mean 'no' in the way that 'no' is generally accepted to be meant, Ronald," she retorted, rising from her seat and slinging her book-bag over her shoulder. "I'm not afraid of Malfoy - especially not after everything we went through last year. I can handle myself." She turned to her other best friend, with whom she had Transfiguration first. "I'll see you in class, Harry."

A pair of gray eyes watched her studiously from the Ravenclaw table as she swept from the hall, book-bag overflowing and curls bouncing behind her.

Author's Note : Beta love to iwasbotwp. Also - hi, hello, thank you to you lovely reviewers… reading your thoughts makes my day!

Just a side note, I've had a number of people mention that it would be strange, given their small class size, to have Hermione need to be introduced to anyone she's spent seven years already knowing. While I agree, I have opted not to make changes at this time in order to help out you, the reader. There are a fair few 'new' side characters throughout this fic so you'll simply have to bear with me.

previous chapternext chapterchapter listFirst Day Back

Classes began uneventfully and Hermione felt relief settle into her stomach. Here she was, sitting next to Harry in class like there had not been any war or any re-sorting. The only difference was that their uniform ties were different colors. This was normal.

The new Transfiguration instructor was a thickset, red-faced Scotsman named Professor Buchanan. While his brogue was present, it was not too heavy; he had meaty hands that he gestured wildly with, and he liked to laugh. This was a change from McGonagall to be sure, but the new professor seemed knowledgeable.

They quickly jumped right into the subject matter, beginning with transforming chickens into cats. Since they had only transformed animals into inanimate objects before (or vice versa), Hermione found this refreshingly challenging.

"How are you getting this so quickly?" Harry demanded. His chicken meowed at him reproachfully.

"You have to concentrate," she whispered.

Harry rolled his eyes, his face screwed up into a grimace, "I am concentrating."

Yes, Hermione thought to herself smugly, this is normal.

Herbology went much the same. She and Harry joined Ron to walk down to the greenhouses together, the three of them partnering around the same cluster of shrivelfigs.

"Hermione," Ron said in mock-seriousness, "how am I going to pass my NEWTs without you?"

"I'm not going to help you 'find the words' for your essays this year, Ronald."

He grinned at her, somehow managing to look pleadingly forlorn at the same time. "You always say that…"

Later that evening, Hermione hesitated outside a familiar pair of doors. Dinner was being served in the Great Hall, and though she was hungry after her first day of classes, there was something she had to make sure of first…

Releasing her held breath, she pulled the door-handle and stepped into the Hogwarts Library. Before her stood her old friends, seemingly the only things in the castle untouched from the Battle of Hogwarts the previous May. Tall, narrow columns of books rose to the ceiling, extraordinary vestiges of knowledge and theory, just waiting to be combed through…

She glanced furtively around. Besides Madam Pince and two fourth-year Slytherins with their heads together at a back table, no one else was there. Not many came into the library on their first day back in classes - especially not during dinner - but Hermione Granger did.

Convinced that no one would see, she breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of books. Parchment, brain-power, old ink…

"That is both disturbing and somewhat arousing, Granger…"

Hermione whirled around and came face-to-face with Theodore Nott. As she had little knowledge of the former-Slytherin except that his father had been a Death Eater, she was immediately on her guard.

"Theo Nott," he introduced, extending his hand toward her. The wizard was tall and thin and seemed to lean a bit like an unstable tower. His fair hair was shorn close to his head, and he had green eyes that were mostly hidden behind horn-rimmed glasses. Hermione noticed he was no longer sporting a green-and-silver tie, but rather a red-and-gold one.

She eyed the extended hand suspiciously. "Why are you introducing yourself to me?"

"I believe it's called 'manners'," he replied impishly. "But I'm beginning to discover that Gryffindors don't really care much for those."

She drew herself up defiantly, "I'm sure I don't know what you mean. Gryffindors have never been anything but nice to me."

"Perhaps you belonged there… unlike a snake in the lion's den."

Her mouth clamped shut. She could not deny she hated the idea of a Death Eater's son sleeping in Gryffindor Tower, despite suspecting the re-sorting had been intended to promote inter-house unity.

Theo eyed her carefully, "I can only assume you feel just as out-of-place in Ravenclaw. I'm shocked McGonagall condoned the splitting-up of the Golden Trio."

He's trying to goad a reaction out of me, she recognized. Smiling with mock-sweetness, she answered, "Just spreading the wealth around, Nott."

"Hmm," he said thoughtfully, "I suppose that's why they had to put both me and Longbottom in Gryffindor… too much of a good thing and all that."

"Neville is twice the wizard you are," she told him confidently.

Amused, he only cocked a skeptical eyebrow at her and queried, "Really?"

"Bloody Slytherin," she muttered under her breath.

"How can someone so swotty be so fantastically ignorant?" he posited with a long-suffering sigh. Hermione stuck her nose in the air and made to march away from him, but before she could, he inferred, "I suppose you expected me to approach you and immediately start calling you a 'Mudblood'?"

"Ten points from Gryffindor for your language, Nott," she spat fiercely, and stalked off.

He called after her, "There's a private corner over yonder, Granger… so you can jill off to the books in peace!"

"I am having an identity crisis," Hermione announced, taking a seat at one of the Hufflepuff benches where Ron, Seamus, Harry, and Ginny were already halfway through dinner.

"Already?" Ginny queried.

"Why?" Ron asked, more companionably.

"I just took house points from Gryffindor and I wasn't in the least bit remorseful."

Harry and Ginny laughed at her discomfort, while Ron gaped at her.

"Can prefects take house points now?" Seamus wondered.

"Seventh and eighth years can, we just can't award them."

"Do you know what's even worse?" Ginny argued. "I have to try out to be on the Slytherin Quidditch team. They'd be lucky to have me!"

"Me too," Harry reminded her, "and I was Captain of Gryffindor."

"I got called a 'Puff Poof' by a fifth year," Seamus complained miserably. "Why do Huffs get so much shite?"

"At least none of you have to do prefect patrol with Malfoy twice a week," Hermione hissed.

They all looked expectantly at Ron.

"What?" he stuttered between heaps of the mashed potatoes he was shoveling into his mouth. "I'm perfectly happy in Hufflepuff. Although we do have Parkinson… but so far, everyone mostly just takes the mickey out of her and that's always good fun."

Hermione met Malfoy outside Ravenclaw Tower that evening. As Head Boy, Ernie was also there to give instructions about where they were to patrol. The Gryffindor prefects would be scouring the upper floors, while they were to have the lower, including the dungeons.

"Padma and I have decided to have a meeting with all the prefects tomorrow night, before any of the school clubs start up again," Ernie informed the sullen pair. "Ancient Runes classroom on the sixth floor, seven o'clock sharp."

Having said his piece, Ernie turned back to re-enter Ravenclaw Tower. The guardian prompted, "I go through towns and over hills, and yet I never move."

"Er," Ernie answered unsurely. The bronze eagle head in the center of the door remained silent.

Anyone entering the common room had to answer a riddle, which was different every time. Hermione had not had any trouble with hers so far. Ernie, on the other hand…

She supplied the answer for him. "A road."

"Too right," the eagle head answered. The door swung inward.

"Thanks," Ernie said, possibly embarrassed that he had not known the answer, as he did not meet her eye and quickly disappeared within.

Malfoy sneered at the spot where the Head Boy had stood moments before. "That was an easy one. He should have known the answer."

Not wanting to start a confrontation with him at the very beginning of their patrol, and because she secretly agreed that it had been an easy question, Hermione said nothing. They descended the spiral staircase in silence.

Spilling out onto the fifth floor corridor, Malfoy already sounded bored when he drawled, "Where do you want to start?"

"I've never done the lower patrol before," she shrugged. The Gryffindor and Hufflepuff prefects had always taken the upper floors of the castle; Ravenclaws and Slytherins had typically done the lower.

"This way then," Malfoy decided for them, jaunting off toward the center of the castle and down another staircase.

Hermione did not really expect foul play from Draco, but she kept her eyes open nonetheless. If he hexed her, it would be fairly obvious that it had been him. At the same time, she could not help thinking there might be some validity in Luna's earlier suggestion, that perhaps Malfoy had been made a prefect so he could have a chance at redemption. His family's extremist pro-pureblood loyalties during the war was common knowledge. Surely he would not choose to break the offered olive branch…

Breaking their silence, he insisted, "I am going to go mad if we have to spend two hours without saying anything."

It was his usual insolent tone, but Hermione found some small hope in the subject of his words. She politely queried, "What would you like to talk about?"

"I don't care. Anything. Do you have a Quidditch team?"

"I don't really care for Quidditch, sorry."

"Of course you don't," he sneered. "Too much time with your face in a book, no doubt."

"If you're just going to insult me…"

"We can do that, if you prefer. It would probably pass the time faster," he drawled. "You first. Throw me your best."

Hermione shot her companion a scathing look and clamped her mouth shut, thinking his best punishment would be for her to not say a word.

Malfoy jibed, "Cat got your tongue, Granger?"

She refused to speak, instead listening in calm silence as he attempted to goad her into responding to light insults or disparaging witticisms for the next several moments. Eventually, she tuned him out entirely, deciding she was already near to going mad, herself.

Roundly ignoring her companion, Hermione turned a corner into a passageway she did not recognize. She glanced around, taking in the hanging tapestries depicting unfamiliar scenes along with the Baroque-era suits of armor, and realized she did not have the slightest idea where she was. Forgetting she wasn't speaking to Malfoy, she voiced, "Where are we?"

"Ha!" he exclaimed in triumph.

She rolled her eyes. "You are twelve. Seriously, Malfoy, where are we?"

"A few passages away from the Slytherin dormitories," he answered, still smirking in victory.

"Are there classrooms down here? Why have I never been here before?" she wondered. The feel of the air made it seem they were almost underground. Perhaps they were.

"As far as I know it's just the Slytherin commons, dungeons, and the caves."

Hermione rounded on him, eyes flashing, and repeated, "Caves?"

Malfoy's mouth spread from a smirk to a grin and Hermione inwardly shuddered. She had not thought the former-Slytherin could do something like grin - but the truth of the matter was, that look on his face was terrifying. Whatever pleased Malfoy that much could not possibly be anything good…

"Scared of the underground passages, Granger?" he sneered.

"Certainly not," she protested, squaring her shoulders. "Is it part of the rotation?"

"Yes, considering there's usually at least one couple snogging down there," he began. Then added, "Or worse."

"Oh, eugh," she blurted.

"Poor Saint Granger," he jeered. "Don't worry, I will protect your virgin eyes and go first."

Hermione huffed to herself, but allowed him to go first after all. Thankfully, the caves were not many; most were actually short passages like the one that ran out from one of the smaller dungeons toward the Quidditch pitch. The air was frigid there and Hermione felt the hairs on her arms and back of her neck raise in protest of the cold. Her legs were covered in gooseflesh, both from the chill and the uneasy feeling that came along with being confined in the narrow tunnels. Luckily, the area was clear of students and they were able to leave quickly.

They continued down another passage that acted as a kind of loop and did not seem to really go anywhere. As they came full circle, Malfoy stopped in front of her and Hermione almost bumped directly into him.

"What?" she demanded.

"Nothing, it's just a cat," he muttered, shining his wandlight on the path ahead.

Hermione craned her neck to peer around Malfoy and cried, "Crookshanks!"

Her cat was indeed sitting in the middle of the path, washing his paw and looking rather pleased with himself.

"Clever Crookshanks," Hermione cooed. "Have you been patrolling with us this whole time?"

"That thing is yours?" Malfoy asked incredulously.

As if sensing an affront, Crookshanks turned his gaze toward Malfoy for a moment before sauntering off ahead, bottlebrush tail held high. Hermione irrationally felt safer. Pushing around Malfoy, she followed Crookshanks out of the cave, where she gave him a proper scratching under his chin. The cat purred loudly until Malfoy came back into view.

"You have a real affinity for ugly, oversized ginger things, don't you, Granger?"

Hermione shot him a dark look, but decided not to dignify his words with a response.

"Come on, there's only one more cave…"

It turned out Malfoy had not been wrong: there was someone snogging down there. Wet, smacking sounds and the occasional groan echoed quietly from the passage. Draco cast his lumos at the guilty couple to reveal Pansy Parkinson and a Slytherin boy Hermione knew by sight but not by name. Pansy's uniform blouse was suspiciously unbuttoned part of the way.

"Let's see," Malfoy deliberated, "ten points from Slytherin, Avery. Fifteen from Hufflepuff, Parkinson, since you're you. Then another five for being sorted in with the badgers."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest the injustice behind Malfoy's deductions, but Pansy interrupted her.

"Ask me if I care," the witch huffed, straightening herself up somewhat. "Hufflepuff is a joke. Besides, Draco, what are you doing down here with her? Coming down to get in some of your own private time?"

"As if," Hermione scoffed, blushing deeply at the insinuation nonetheless.

Malfoy remained utterly unabashed. "Best get back to your commons, it's after hours… you too, Avery."

The Slytherin boy scurried off furtively, but Pansy ran her fingers slowly down Draco's arm and cast him a long gaze before she sauntered away, one of her stockings drooping lower than the other.

Hermione stood awkwardly by Malfoy for a moment before she realized he was staring at her.

"What?" she snapped.

"No need to look so wistful, Granger…"

"You are disgusting."

Smirking, Malfoy led them from the caves, to Hermione's relief. Crookshanks pretended not to follow them, but remained reassuringly about ten paces behind them for the rest of their shift. Hermione thought about the lingering touch Pansy had bestowed on Malfoy's arm before she left.

"Malfoy," she began thoughtfully, remembering that he had taken Pansy to the Yule Ball back in fourth year, "that wasn't… I mean, weren't you involved with Parkinson at one point? Did that bother you, to find her there?"

"Merlin, is that what people think of me? I had worried the worst thing I'd be called this year was a Death Eater, but now I'm to understand I'm considered Parkinson's arm candy! I thought you had determined not to insult me this evening?"

"I'll take that as a 'no' then," she deduced blandly.

"I'm not necessarily calling her a slag, but if she were money she'd be a knut: worthless, two-faced, and in everyone's pants."

Hermione and Malfoy did not speak much for the rest of their patrol, which she was glad of. Finally, they were ascending the spiral staircase up to Ravenclaw Tower, Crookshanks still trailing faithfully behind.

"All… these… effing… stairs!" Malfoy gasped, once they reached the top.

Hermione laughed at her companion's obvious discomfort. She was used to stairs; Gryffindor Tower had been on the seventh floor.

The eagle head door-knocker prompted them with another riddle: "I belong to you but others put me to more frequent use."

Malfoy groaned, clutching his side, "It's too late for this…"

Hermione looked thoughtful a moment, then suggested, "The answer is my name."

"Very true," the eagle head nodded. Obligingly, the door swung inward and Hermione entered, with Malfoy still catching his breath behind her. The common room was mostly empty, but a few stragglers were still sitting up.

"Good night," Hermione called, in what she hoped was an annoyingly cheerful voice.

Her fellow prefect grimaced at her, still clearly irked by all the stairs they had to climb. Zabini was waiting for him by one of the tall, many-paned windows on the far side of the common room. As Draco crossed the room to join him, Hermione felt a pang of jealousy that even Malfoy had friends in Ravenclaw Tower - whereas she would just be heading to bed.

She trudged up the steps to her dormitory, where Padma and Lisa seemed to already be asleep; Sue was quietly reading a book about Quidditch maneuvers and smiled in greeting. After changing into her night things, Hermione crawled under the soft covers of her bed. Crookshanks hopped up onto the comforter and wound himself into a comfortable ginger wheel near her feet.

Exhausted from the first day of classes, coupled with having to deal with Malfoy one-on-one for nearly two hours, Hermione fell asleep almost before her head hit the pillow.