Chapter 3: First 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.