Chapter 5: Jasmine & Vinegar

A lone falcon circled the turret of Ravenclaw Tower the next morning while the pale rays of early light danced across the surface of the Black Lake. The falcon glided easily through unseen thermals, drifting away over the Forbidden Forest. Hermione watched its lazy progress from the window by her four-poster, wrapped in a sky-blue quilt.

A thestral suddenly sprang from the edge of the forest and snatched the bird from the air, devouring its morning meal with gusto.

She wrenched her wide eyes away from the window, disturbed. Glancing at the clock on the wall - it was only a quarter past six - she knew she would not get any more sleep that morning. She was also no longer hungry after witnessing the falcon's fate from the tower window.

Her fellow eighth-years were all sleeping quietly, so Hermione pulled on her bathrobe and gathered all her things for a long, relaxing bath in the prefects' bathroom.

It was early and she was doing nothing wrong, but she was still thankful she met no one in the corridors.

One of the perks of being a Ravenclaw, Hermione thought as she sank below the suds filling the enormous tub, is being close to this bathroom.

Surfacing, she gasped in a breath of the thick, perfumed air before balancing herself against the side of the tub and glancing around the room. Stained glass windows embellished much of the walls, which were otherwise lined with the same kind of tiles as the floor. The tub was roughly the size of a small swimming pool and gilded with gold. Hermione loved coming here in the early morning when no one else would bother her. It was nice to have some moments of uninterrupted privacy.

Dozens of unusually shaped taps lined the edge of the tub, each ready to release a different kind of soap. Hermione only chose one - her favorite - which spewed out thick, foam-like clouds upon which you could almost float on if you were able to distribute your weight evenly enough. There were jasmine flowers drifting throughout.

While Hermione never took a long shower, baths were a different story; baths were relaxing and sensual. By the time she had finished, it was quarter-past seven and she felt a good deal better than she had after witnessing the thestral eat the falcon.

Unplugging the drain and wrapping her hair in a towel, she dressed in her weekend clothes. It was now late enough that someone might see her leaving and she did not want to be in her bathrobe if such a confrontation were to occur. She began toweling down her hair, noting with extreme surprise that washing it had not done away with Lisa's straightening charms from the previous night.

When she was done, Hermione glanced in the tall mirror at her reflection. The girl that looked back had long, long hair, almost to her waist. It had been no small shock that Lisa's handy charm had almost completely straightened it in very little time at all. It was a little unsettling, she thought, how she almost did not look like herself. She left her hair loose to air-dry the rest of the way and tucked her things into the crook of her elbow as she left.

She almost smacked right into Malfoy as she exited.

"Granger?" he gaped, very un-Malfoy like.

"Sorry," she apologized quickly, only half-registering who it was that she had almost bumped.

They stood transfixed for a moment in silence: just Hermione, Malfoy, and the statue of Boris the Bewildered that guarded the prefects' bathroom. When he did not move out of her way, she grew impatient.

"No need to look so wistful, Malfoy," she sneered, echoing his statement from their first patrol together. "I'd like to pass."

"Right," he muttered dazedly as if he had been hit with a Confundus. He stepped to the side and she stalked by, refusing to grant him even a backward glance. The scent of jasmine wafted behind her.

"Ooh, it held up overnight!" Lisa chirped excitedly.

Hermione grinned at her new friend, "Through a bath, too, it seems."

Students were slowly trickling into the Great Hall for breakfast. Luna and Ginny traipsed in presently and Hermione waved them over to the Ravenclaw table where she sat with Lisa. Ginny did a double-take when she saw Hermione and dragged Luna along to join them.

"Hermione," Ginny goggled, her eyes wide, "your hair!"

Lisa looked incredibly smug for a former-Hufflepuff. Hermione shrugged her shoulders, put off by the attention.

"It must be an odd feeling," Luna remarked airily. "Perhaps like a shrubbery feels after it's been pruned."

Lisa looked like she was not quite sure what to make of Luna.

They were shortly joined by Harry, who casually voiced some surprise that Ron was not yet present. He sat beside Ginny and in front of Lisa, who stared at him and fell quiet.

Squinting at Hermione through his thick glasses, Harry slowly asked, "Have you done something different, Hermione?"

Ginny giggled, pecking him on the cheek, while Hermione rolled her eyes. "Lisa charmed my hair. This is Lisa Turpin, by the way, Harry. She's now Ravenclaw, too."

It took Lisa a moment to loosen up around Harry, but soon she was joking around with the rest of them. Harry good-naturedly pretended not to notice.

"Wonder where that brother of mine is?" Ginny speculated, craning her neck toward the entrance as Seamus entered alone. "Seamus!" she called, beckoning for him to come over. At the Irish boy's approach, she queried, "Where's Ron?"

"He was still sleeping when I left," Seamus shrugged.

Hermione finished her breakfast before Ron even made an appearance. Eager to dive into her schoolwork, she opted not to wait for him. Instead, she pulled her hair back into a practical bun to avoid more unnecessary attention and headed to the library. She spent a couple of hours working on some Transfiguration homework that was not due until the following week, then began an Arithmancy assignment.

Her head shot up when a book-bag was slung into a chair opposite her at the table she had taken over. Oliver smiled as he joined her, the blues of his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I came early to get some work done and here you are, too."

"It's nice to be able to take advantage of the library while it's quiet at the beginning of term and all the books are still checked in," Hermione observed, moving her things over to make room for him.

The duo worked in semi-silence, dividing and conquering the research for their Alchemy project, only occasionally commenting when one found something intriguing or helpful. Once they were satisfied they had each found sufficient information to begin researching more fully, they decided to pack up. Oliver again packed his things neatly into his bag with magic, while Hermione took a few moments - out of habit - to put her ink away the Muggle way.

As she was screwing on a cap of an ink bottle, Oliver spoke up, "Ernie was talking about the fact that the prefects are planning a Halloween dance. I wanted to ask you before someone else did."

Gaping at him like she had never seen him before, Hermione blinked a few moments in surprise.

Suddenly guarded, Oliver continued, "Of course, if you don't want to-"

"No! I didn't mean… actually, that would be lovely."

A smile broadened his features. "Great. I'll see you around?"

"Of course."

Things packed away and books checked out, Oliver excused himself to go meet up with some friends, leaving Hermione to begin climbing the staircases toward her dormitory on her own. Her feet on auto-pilot, her mind began to wander. She was pleasantly surprised at Oliver's apparent interest in her. He seemed nice enough, was clearly intelligent, and had a great smile. She had not dared think she would be able to jump into any kind of dating so quickly after her break-up with Ron, even if it was only to a school dance.

Mind idly drifting through pleasant thoughts, she waited patiently as one of the main staircases she had stepped onto began to shift. Presently, the path steadied into its new direction and she felt a small smile curling onto her mouth. Until…

"Granger," greeted Theo Nott, falling into step beside her as she strode into the main sixth floor corridor.

"Nott," she answered monosyllabically, determined to otherwise ignore him.

"Where are you headed, Granger? Ravenclaw Tower is the other way."

Hermione paused a moment and realized with frustration that she had been on her way to the Gryffindor commons out of sheer habit. Under her breath, she muttered, "Bother."

"Forgot where your common room is?" he teased. "Not very Ravenclaw of you. If your book-bag is anything to guess by, you've just checked out half the library, so unless you were planning to satisfy your urges in the sixth floor corridor, you'll have to turn around. Somewhere a bit more private, perhaps…"

"Hermione!" Ginny called, waving as she hurried over from the opposite direction.

Hermione had never been more grateful for Ginny's sudden appearance, as she was blushing scarlet and desperately wanted to be anywhere but alone with Theodore Nott. Catching sight of the former-Slytherin, Ginny paused. Looking Theo up and down, she demanded, "Can we help you, Nott?"

"Just on the way to my common room when I ran into Granger, here, who was going to attempt a gate-crash," Theo drawled lazily, correctly guessing Hermione's directional faux pas. Flickering a grin her direction, he drifted away toward the seventh-floor staircase. "See you around, Granger."

"Are you friends with him?" Ginny quizzed skeptically.

"Not at all."

"Hmm, probably just as well," she mused. "Anyway, I was on my way to Ravenclaw Tower to tell you next: party in the Slytherin commons tonight! I've just been to Gryffindor to tell Neville, Luna and the others. They're in."

Stepping onto the staircase that would bring them back down to the fifth floor where her common room was, Hermione frowned. "Can you have an inter-House party in a common room?"

Wagging her finger at her friend, Ginny cautioned, "Don't try to dissuade me, Hermione. McGonagall seems to want inter-House unity, doesn't she? Besides, it's far too late. Even the house elves are in on it. They're bringing snacks in an hour."

"Ginny!"

Hands on her hips, Ginny took an offensive stance. It was remarkable how much she resembled Mrs. Weasley when she did this. "Hermione, you may be a prefect but we are going to have a party in the Slytherin commons. You can either get your knickers untwisted and come have a good time, or you can stay up in Ravenclaw Tower to study on a Saturday night."

Miffed and somewhat offended, Hermione made a noncommittal noise as the girls stepped out onto the landing, and made to head toward the Ravenclaw commons.

Catching up, Ginny paused them near the tower landing. "… But I hope you come."

From her, it was as good as an apology. Hermione sighed and glanced toward the staircase that would bring her up the spiraling stairs to her new quarters. A few other students were coming and going. Would a party really hurt?

She decided, "Alright, I'll come."

"Yay!"

"But no alcohol," Hermione added hastily. "School rules."

Ginny stopped in her tracks and her face slowly morphed into a blank stare.

"Ginny…" she began warningly.

"It's not me. But Harry may or may not be coming back from Hogsmeade right now with supplies."

"How is he… wait." Hermione closed her eyes, then quietly queried, "The Marauder's Map and his cloak?"

"Oh, look, I don't think I've ever seen this portrait before…"

"Ginevra Weasley!"

"Okay, fine!" Ginny confirmed, stamping her foot. "We might be planning some drunken festivities, which just so happen to be illicit. Is that so wrong?"

"It's rather Slytherin, I dare say," drawled a familiar voice from behind them. Both girls spun around quickly.

"Malfoy," Ginny acknowledged coldly.

He was just stepping off the last step of the tower staircase and Hermione could not help but feel she was bumping into the former-Slytherin an awful lot lately. She supposed that was only to be expected, now that they were sharing a common room.

Glancing at Ginny and taking in the pink cardigan that made up part of her weekend outfit, Malfoy sneered, "Pink's not really your color… is it, Weaslette?"

Ginny was not the type of person to back down from a verbal joust. She retorted, "Polite's not really your color… is it, Malfoy?"

He shrugged, uncaring. Then, turning to Hermione he raised his eyebrows and suggested, "Surely you're not going to condone a party after hours, Saint Granger?"

"In case you haven't noticed, Malfoy… you're a prefect too!"

"Believe me, I thought about taking points, but then I remembered we're in the same House now." He grimaced like this was a hardship, then turned his attention back to Ginny, "The Slytherin dungeons haven't admitted an outsider in more than seven centuries."

"Tell that to Harry and Ron," Hermione snorted.

"I highly doubt this year counts with its ridiculous re-sorting…"

"Harry and my brother went into the Slytherin common room back in their second year, for your information," Ginny informed him proudly. "They disguised themselves with polyjuice."

Frowning deeply, Draco seemed at a loss. "No second year can brew polyjuice, and the purchase of some would be forbidden."

"Tell that first bit to Hermione," Ginny scoffed. "She brewed it just fine in second year, judging from the fact that you still never noticed those cronies you used to have acting a bit funny one evening all those years ago."

Hermione turned to Ginny with a cold fury in her eyes. "You talk too much."

"Why would Potter and Weasley want to turn into Crabbe and Goyle?"

"They were trying to discover who the Heir of Slytherin was. Honestly, where were you that year?"

"You really talk too much, Ginny," Hermione groaned, adjusting her heavy book-bag where it was digging into her shoulder.

"If I recall," Malfoy flouted, "the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets turned out to be you."

"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but the basilisk never hurt me," Ginny sang, childishly sticking out her tongue at him and grabbing Hermione's arm to drag her away. "Come on, Hermione, we're wasting our time with this snake."

But Hermione stood rooted to the spot. Glaring at Draco, she demanded, "Are you going to tell about the party or not?"

She did not trust the gleam in his gray eyes one bit when he responded, "Of course not. You need to loosen up a bit."

"I don't trust you."

He shrugged, impishly casting a final smirk in their direction before crossing in front of them and sidling through a concave section of wall. This appeared to actually be a passage of some sort, because he disappeared from sight a second later.

"Did you know that was there?" Ginny asked, staring at the place Malfoy had disappeared into.

Hermione shook her head. She sure was curious now, though.

"Come on," Ginny encouraged, leading Hermione toward the descending staircase nearby. "You can come to Hufflepuff with me to tell Ron and the others about the party."

Resolving to explore the hidden passage later, Hermione allowed Ginny to drag her down six flights of stairs and toward the corridor where Hermione knew the Hogwarts kitchens were hidden beyond a painting of a bowl of fruit. Her reservations about continuing the party after their run-in with Malfoy were stronger than ever. However, reasoning with Ginny was often like making orations to a gargoyle. She resolved to speak to Harry about it, if possible.

Ginny seemed to know where she was headed, but Hermione was politely puzzled when her friend came to a stop in front of a stack of enormous oaken barrels and announced, "Here we are."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Ron did say there was no password, but how do we get in… and where do we get in?" While she knew she was not supposed to be going into the other Houses' common areas, she had to admit she felt a kind of burning curiosity.

Ginny pulled out her wand and seemed to be muttering to herself, "Let's see… he said barrel two from the bottom, middle of the second row-"

"Do you just tap the barrel, or…?"

"Yes, five times." She selected the correct barrel, double-checking to make sure, and tapped a cadence on it with her wand exactly five times.

Without warning, the barrel's lid sprang off and vinegar erupted forth, dousing Ginny. Hermione barely sprang out of the way in time, and some still got on her trainers anyway. She was nowhere near as badly off as Ginny, whose entire body, clothes and hair were completely soaked. The stench was formidable.

"Prat!" she screeched. "When I get my hands on you, Ron Weasley…"

Hermione waved her wand, using a Scourgify to vanish the vinegar.

It only sort-of worked. While Ginny was no longer drenched in the stuff, the smell remained potent and a stickiness seemed to linger about her person.

"Is someone trying to break into the common room?" a curious voice wafted from within the casks and into the little nook of the hall.

"We were trying to see Ron Weasley," Hermione answered the vaguely familiar disembodied voice, "but we couldn't get past the barrels."

The grinning head of Justin Finch-Fletchley emerged from the same cask they had been trying to gain entry through.

"I've been waiting seven years for someone to get doused in vinegar," he told them gleefully, which did not improve Ginny's foul mood.

"What did we do wrong?" Hermione wanted to know.

"Did you tap the barrel two from the bottom, middle of the second row?" When they nodded, Justin continued, "Did you tap five times in the rhythm of 'Helga Hufflepuff'?"

"There's a rhythm?" Ginny seethed. "When I get my hands on that brother of mine…"

"Try again," Justin snickered, his head disappearing back within.

Warily, Hermione took out her wand and approached the barrel in question, careful to tap five times to the rhythm Justin suggested. She was ready to spring aside, just in case. Instead of spouting vinegar this time, the cask's lid lifted open and the mouth enlarged enough to allow them to crawl through.

The Hufflepuff common room was enormous and completely round with a low ceiling. The circular windows were higher up on the walls to allow sunlight to filter in and offered a view of the rippling grass and nodding dandelions of the lawn. It seemed they were mostly underground.

If Hermione had been asked to describe the Hufflepuff common in a single word, she would probably have chosen 'cozy'. Overstuffed chairs and sofas dotted the room, upholstered in the House colors of yellow and black. On the far wall hung a large portrait of an older, kindly-looking witch with reddish-blonde hair and a medieval dress. Her eyes bore established crow's feet and in her hands were grasping a cup Hermione recognized instantly. She, herself, had destroyed that very cup only months ago, simultaneously destroying one of Voldemort's hidden horcruxes.

Beneath Helga Hufflepuff's portrait, an eye-grabbing hearth took up a large section of the wall. The fireplace molding depicted intricate carvings of many different badgers out of a honey-colored wood. Otherwise, much of the room was covered in burnished copper and interesting plant specimens. Various flora curled around lamps, crawled up walls and onto the ceiling, or danced along window-sills.

"Hermione? Ginny? What are you doing here?" Seamus asked, padding out from one of the many circular doors leading away from the common room, which Hermione assumed were dormitories.

"We came to see Ron," she answered.

"Why does it smell like vinegar in here?" complained a small boy on one of the nearby sofas. He was tiny enough to be a first year and was quickly hushed by an older student.

"Intruders," Justin answered, appearing near Hermione with a grin. To Ginny, he offered a mostly sincere-sounding, "Sorry."

It appeared this was the wrong thing to say.

"What kind of House has a punishment for getting the password wrong?" she hissed. "Gryffindor and Slytherin have a set word that changes every so often and if you don't know it, you don't get in. Ravenclaw…"

Ginny was staring expectantly at Hermione, who quickly supplied, "We have to answer a riddle every time."

"I bet you don't get doused in vinegar if you get the riddle wrong!"

Biting back a smile, Hermione shook her head. "No, you just don't get to go in."

"Where is Ron?" Ginny demanded, glaring at Seamus.

"He's in the dorm," he responded, quailing under her gaze and looking very much as though he did not envy Ron Weasley at that moment. "I'll go get him…"