Chapter 4: Many Meetings

The next day, Friday, was characterized by the last of the summer weather. It was hot and horrendously humid, which Hermione's hair seemed to somehow sense even from within Ravenclaw Tower; it was a wreck.

"Woah!" cried Lisa in alarm when Hermione pulled back the curtains of her four-poster. Padma and Sue looked up at the exclamation and both giggled, sharing a look.

Daphne threw her curtains open and glared at the four of them, presumably for making so much noise. She sneered, "Nice hair, Granger."

Hermione ignored her and did the best she could with her wild locks, used to it. Daphne threw on some clothes and left for the bathroom.

Once the offending Slytherin had removed herself, Lisa hopefully requested, "Can I try charming it? I know a lot of beauty charms."

"No, thank you," Hermione insisted, "I appreciate it, but I've really tried everything."

The four girls headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast together, but Padma rushed to catch up with her twin sister, Parvati. Shortly after, Lisa ran into Susan Bones, another former-Hufflepuff, leaving Hermione and Sue alone.

Hermione squirmed; she had always been bad at being friends with other girls and was unsure what to say. Luckily, she was spared thinking of something by the arrival of the Ravenclaw boy in their year Hermione had not recognized.

"Sue! Wait up!" he called, jogging to catch up to the two girls.

"Hey!" Sue greeted. Then, possibly because she noticed Hermione trying to sneak away, she introduced him, "Hermione, have you met Oliver?"

The boy had short dark hair, blue eyes, and was rather soft-spoken. Smiling, he stuck out his hand, "Oliver Rivers."

"Pleasure," Hermione murmured, taking the offered hand and shaking it.

"The Hermione Granger, I presume?"

She smiled, "Do you know a lot of Hermiones?"

He laughed quietly, "Fair enough."

"Are you two excited to start Alchemy this morning?" Sue queried as the trio made their way down toward the Great Hall.

"I'm not sure what to expect," Oliver answered. "I found a volume on it in the Stacks, but it looked pretty old. I'm thinking someone left it there a couple centuries ago."

"What are the Stacks?" Hermione wanted to know.

"Merlin, I forgot you don't know!" exclaimed Sue. "It's tradition for every Ravenclaw to leave a book of their choice behind when they graduate. Ravenclaws have been doing it for centuries, so the Stacks have all kinds of things in there…"

"They're in the round chamber off the main common room," Oliver explained. "It's neat because you don't know what you're going to find. I once spent an entire weekend reading about something someone must have left about airplane mechanics. Ingenious, Muggles are! In getting around without magic, I mean."

"You'd like it," Sue confirmed, noting the intrigued expression on Hermione's face. Then, turning to Oliver, "So what did you find out about alchemy?"

"It looks like a mixture of Potions, Ancient Runes, and Arithmancy. Should be challenging. The book was pretty dog-eared, which is as good an indicator as any that it's a fascinating subject."

"I suppose we'll find out soon enough," Hermione put in, business-like. "There wasn't time to order the textbook, but I suppose everyone will be behind. I usually like to read my class materials during the summer before term starts up."

"Me, too," echoed the Ravenclaws together. Grinning, Sue added, "It always amazed me you weren't originally a Ravenclaw, Hermione."

Hermione merely smiled, unsure what to say. She still missed Gryffindor.

They came upon the Great Hall and she craned her neck to look for her friends. Spotting Ginny sitting at the Gryffindor table with Neville, Hermione excused herself. "I'll see you in class."

"See you," Sue called after her retreating form. Hermione heard her turn to Oliver and explain, "She doesn't sit with other Ravenclaws. Meals or classes."

Hermione felt a twinge of regret and vowed to sit with her dorm-mates at lunch. After all, it surely could not hurt to get to know the people she would be sharing a room with all year…

Alchemy, it turned out, was taught by Professor McGonagall. Hermione tried to remember a time that the Head of Hogwarts had ever taught a class, and she recalled Harry's private "lessons" with Professor Dumbledore back in sixth year. She supposed that did not really count, especially as those sessions had been irregular and extremely exclusive.

The class was made up of only eighth years and there were eight students enrolled, including five Ravenclaws: Hermione, Sue, Ernie, Oliver, and Malfoy. Theo Nott was also there, along with another boy wearing a Gryffindor tie named Stephen Cornfoot. A lone Slytherin, Kevin Entwhistle, was the eighth.

"You've all chosen to study the ancient and finicky art of alchemy," McGonagall began. "This subject will be taught somewhat differently from the other classes you have taken at Hogwarts. Your NEWT scores will be determined by two projects done outside of the classroom with a partner. The first one will be a theoretical research project. The second will be a practical experiment, performed with a different partner. You may pick your first partner now."

Hermione watched with dismay as the other students divided themselves up by their old Houses again. Malfoy and Nott stepped toward one another quickly. Ernie enthusiastically greeted his former-housemate, Kevin Entwhistle. Sue went over to work with Stephen Cornfoot.

Oliver approached and proposed, "Partners?"

Hermione supposed she had no other choice. Her new house-mate seemed friendly enough, though she knew very little about him. Still, a boy who had once spent an entire weekend reading up about how airplanes worked, couldn't be all bad…

"Sounds good to me."

Glancing around, Oliver observed, "Everyone has reverted back to their old House associates."

"And you got stuck with me," Hermione finished lamely.

Oliver's dark eyebrows raised and he corrected, "I prefer to think I got lucky to get paired with you."

She smiled gratefully.

Once everyone had settled into seats with their new partners, McGonagall began to teach. "To begin, alchemy is not a miracle - it is science and magic combined. The basis of this art is in the ability to draw energy from beneath the surface of the earth and use it to power a rearrangement of matter. This is known as transmutation. We will begin with a basic understanding of chemistry…"

A double-block, Alchemy was a three-hour-long class and most of the students were eager to rush off to lunch after such an intense first day of a new subject, especially on a Friday. Keen as the others to head down to the Great Hall, Hermione quickly began packing her things away the moment after McGonagall dismissed them.

"Meet in the library tomorrow?" Oliver suggested, packing his book-bag with magic. Their assignment was indeed a daunting task, partly because it was so vague. "If you don't mind going there on a Saturday, that is?"

Responding as if it had been a challenge that she would not want to spend her Saturday in the library, Hermione nodded, "That sounds like a plan."

For a moment, he looked as if he was going to wait for her. She was saved the social awkwardness of walking to lunch with a new acquaintance when McGonagall requested, "Miss Granger, would you stay behind a moment, please?"

"See you tomorrow," Oliver bid, slinging his bag over his shoulder and hastening off to catch up with Stephen Cornfoot.

Though he had already gone, she murmured, "See you…"

On his way out of the classroom with Malfoy, Theo Nott turned around to shoot her a mocking look wherein he clasped his hands together and batted his eyes coquettishly. With a final snicker and a sneer, he was gone.

He is going to be a problem this year, Hermione decided, shaking her head at the former-Slytherin's antics.

The room now emptied, she made her way to the front of the classroom where the Headmistress bestowed her with a rare smile. "Thank you for waiting behind, Miss Granger. How are your classes so far?"

"It's good to be back," Hermione responded diplomatically. "I missed Hogwarts."

"We are now awaiting the arrival of Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley. I requested their presences here before lunch, as I have something I would like to impart to the three of you. I will be sure to be brief, as I recall how particular Mr. Weasley is with regard to mealtimes." Hermione smiled at this observation of Ron, though her curiosity was also piqued as to what business McGonagall might have with the three of them. The Headmistress continued, "In the meantime, I would like you to understand my reasoning for not making you Head Girl this year - as, naturally, that distinction should have been yours."

"Oh!" she exclaimed, "I didn't expect-"

McGonagall continued as if Hermione had not made any outburst. "I strongly considered giving you that office, but after everything you went through last year, I thought perhaps you wouldn't want the extra responsibility. As it stands, much of your Hogwarts career has been spent putting a stop to a dangerous sociopath. I thought you might want to enjoy yourself this year, though I noticed your class schedule is very full."

"I do appreciate it," Hermione admitted. "Padma was a good choice."

"How are you finding Ravenclaw?"

"Ravenclaw is nice," Hermione said, biting her bottom lip, "I'll adjust."

McGonagall eyed her student carefully, "I was hoping you could help me by keeping an eye on Mr. Malfoy. To be sure, it was a surprise when he was sorted there. I can only hope this means he has changed."

Frowning, Hermione asked, "Why make him a prefect if he needs to be watched?"

"Sometimes, in order to initiate a transformation into becoming a good person, all we require is the means to prove we are that person already," the Headmistress said wisely. "Professor Dumbledore always believed there was a good person within young Mr. Malfoy, despite his mistakes. As it turned out, the Headmaster had impeccable judgment of character, even if he never shared his reasoning…"

Hermione thought of Malfoy, who had never been anything but rude toward her, unless he had been purposefully hurtful. He was cunning when he wanted to be, also manipulative. Hermione could not discern the good person. She wondered how McGonagall had managed.

The conversation was cut short by the voices of Harry and Ron echoing in from the hallway. They seemed to be joking about a class they had just come from together, and Hermione felt a pang of sadness that she had not been there to share in on the fun, whatever it had been. When the boys entered, Harry shot Hermione a grin and Ron nudged her on the shoulder in familiarity. They stood on either side of her just as they usually did, setting her nerves to rest with the familiar arrangement.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall greeted. "I hope your classes are going well, so far. How are you adjusting to Slytherin and Hufflepuff?"

"So far, so good," Ron replied happily.

"It's great to be back," Harry agreed, echoing Hermione's earlier sentiments.

"This will not take up much of your time: I would like to bestow the three of you with awards for services to the school. You will find they have arrived this morning and can be located in the trophy room." Sensing Harry's protest before it could exit his mouth, McGonagall raised one hand, "Before you argue, Mr. Potter, I insist this was an honor."

Harry clamped his mouth shut.

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione said simply, feeling lightly pleased.

Reunited once more, the Golden Trio descended the staircase toward the Great Hall while discussing this new development. Ron clapped Harry on the shoulder and crowed, "That's two we have in there, mate!"

"Actually, Harry has three," Hermione pointed out, "if you include the Triwizard Cup."

"She really didn't need to do that," Harry insisted, looking embarrassed.

At a quarter of an hour to the appointed time, Hermione trundled down the spiral staircase of Ravenclaw Tower for the prefects' meeting. When she arrived, Padma greeted her with a smile, "Hey, Hermione."

"Hey, Padma."

The other prefects slowly trickled in, including those from other years. Malfoy sauntered in two minutes late, as if to demonstrate how little he approved of being summoned. He took a seat in the back, alone.

The meeting began with Ernie determining that everyone was clear on the areas of the castle the prefects were meant to patrol, and making sure no one had any questions. He then added, "The Headmistress has requested that we brainstorm some ideas toward improving school morale."

"Some of the younger students seem to constantly be expecting an attack," a fifth-year Hufflepuff pointed out sadly.

"Do you blame them?" a sixth-year Slytherin responded darkly.

"Oooh," Hannah Abbott giggled, "we could have a dance. Remember the Yule Ball in fourth year?"

"You mean the one most of us weren't old enough to attend?" grumbled a Gryffindor sixth year.

Nodding vigorously, Ernie complimented, "That's not a bad notion, Hannah."

Most of the boys in the room scowled at the idea, but many of the girls grew visibly excited. Hermione inwardly groaned. Her personal experience at the Yule Ball had been mixed, at best.

"Couldn't we begin a support group for students affected by the events of last year?" she suggested hopefully. "Maybe meet once a week and let people talk about what's bothering them…?"

Some of the prefects looked thoughtful as they considered her suggestion, but most seemed to regard the idea with distaste. Malfoy's nose had wrinkled.

"I like the idea of a dance," Padma firmly decided. Hermione recalled Padma had gone with Ron to the Yule Ball and that Ron had completely ignored her. "Those in favor?"

Most of the girls in the room raised their hands, and some of the boys. It was nineteen to fifteen. Hermione sighed inwardly as she accepted the inevitable.

"A school dance it is," Ernie concluded, looking pleased. He had been amongst those in favor. "Should we have another winter ball like last time?"

"A formal!" squealed a sixth-year Hufflepuff.

Noting the glum faces of the boys in the room, Dean suggested, "Why not make it more casual? Weekend clothes, that sort of thing. We can make it fun instead of formal."

Some of the boys perked up at this suggestion, while a few of the girls looked disappointed.

"That would certainly make it easier to plan," Padma pointed out, "especially as I'm sure most students haven't brought their dress robes with them to school."

"Can we at least make it a Halloween dance, then?" Hannah proposed. "That way, people can go in costumes if they want."

After running through the logistics of planning such a thing, a Halloween dance was officially in the works. Ernie and Padma adjourned the meeting a quarter of an hour later.

Hermione left immediately, but decided to take the long way back to Ravenclaw Tower. Instead of turning right out of the classroom they used for the meeting, she took a left. Strictly speaking, she was not really supposed to wander the halls at night despite that it was still before curfew, but there was a lot on her mind and she was not sure going back up to Ravenclaw was going to help. The common room was beautiful… the bookshelves that lined the walls were begging to be explored… she yearned to examine the mysterious Stacks which Oliver had mentioned earlier… but for a few minutes, Hermione really only wanted the solace of her own thoughts.

More than that, she wished for a friend. Her meandering feet led her to the third floor corridor, her fingers brushing the stone walls of the castle as she wandered. Noticing a silvery movement up ahead, she rounded the corner with curiosity and came face-to-face with Nearly Headless Nick, the resident ghost for Gryffindor.

"Hermione!" Nick greeted affably, bowing in deference. Since his head was mostly severed from his neck, the act made it wobbly dangerously in his Elizabethan doublet.

"Hello, Nick."

"Allow me to offer my most sincere - if overdue - compliments on your assistance in the defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named," Nick proffered. "As always, Gryffindor produces the most exemplary witches and wizards!"

"I'm not a Gryffindor anymore though, Nick," Hermione pointed out, gesturing to her blue-and-bronze tie. "See?"

He waved this away, "Once a Gryffindor… always, in your heart. It was your bravery that helped you win the war, not your intellect."

"Intellect sure helped though," Hermione put in, but smiled at the compliment nonetheless.

"You seem troubled," the ghost observed. Several suits of armor clanked noisily at them as they passed. Hermione noticed that a few of them had new dents in their metal, likely from the battle the previous May. One was missing an arm entirely; she steered clear of this one just in case, thinking it looked like a good place for Peeves to hide.

"It's hard being the only lion in the eagle's nest," she explained.

"As someone whose very existence is inarguably neither here nor there, I understand how you're feeling. Lions belong on the open plain, eagles belong in the sky. Likewise, a snake prefers to slither through the underbrush and a badger excels at burrowing beneath the surface."

Hermione nodded at this wisdom, "You're right: we're all displaced."

"Exactly," Nick agreed, glad she had caught on to his euphemism. Wanting to cheer her up, he added, "This morning, I observed the addition of three very large plaques to the trophy room."

Hermione grinned, "I haven't seen them yet."

"A travesty!" Nick cried. "Permit me to escort you there."

They accessed the trophy room through the armor gallery on the third floor, a little way away from where they had been conversing. Awards, trophies, cups, plates, shields, statues, and medals were displayed lavishly behind crystal glass and on black velvet. Some sat outside of the cases, on tables, or hung on the walls. Harry's Triwizard Cup was front and center, giving off an eerie bluish glow. The three new plaques were eye-grabbing, even from their place on the far wall.

Hermione looked but did not stay long. After thanking Nick for his company and advice, she said goodnight.

"It was my pleasure," he bowed, head wobbling precariously once more. "There is a short-cut to the fourth floor behind that portrait."

With that, he merely floated through the wall, leaving Hermione alone again but a lot less contemplative. A small plaque below the portrait Nick had gestured to, indicated the painting was of Brutus Scrimgeour, and Hermione noticed it did indeed swing forward. She ascended the stairs and ended up in the fourth floor corridor, as promised. By the time she returned to the eighth year girls' dormitory Ravenclaw Tower, Hermione was smiling broadly.

"What's got you in such a great mood?" Lisa inquired curiously.

"Not much," she shrugged. With a quick glance around the room, she noticed the former-Hufflepuff was alone, occupying herself by reading a small book. "What are you reading?"

"My journal. I kept it all seven years here and, well, I've been missing Hufflepuff. I mean, I'm glad Ernie's here too… but we weren't ever that close."

Hermione thought back to Nearly-Headless Nick's words: A badger excels at burrowing beneath the surface. Perhaps Lisa was feeling just as out-of-place as Hermione was.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione recalled the girl's request that morning and offered, "Well if you're feeling up to it, maybe you can try charming my hair. You know… now that we're done with classes for the day… in case something goes wrong…"

With a huge smile spreading across her face, Lisa closed the little journal with a snap and leapt from her bed. Excitedly, she breathed, "Can I really? "

Ignoring the ominous feeling settling in her stomach, Hermione nodded. She worried she might end up with purple hair again, the way she had when Lavender Brown had tried to charm it back in third year. Still, it was the weekend, and the risk was worth Lisa's contagious excitement.