This is my fourth fanfic and three going at the same time so please be patient with me. I'll update as soon as I can and hopefully you like it! I've got a new rule, though. Until I get at least five reviews, I won't update a chapter. Sorry!
Disclaimer: Only the plot is mine.
Hermione Granger sighed deeply as she ran a hand through her loose brown curls. Fixating her eyes on the list hanging on the Gryffindor bulletin board, she sighed again. Dumbledore was known for his crazy ideas but honestly, she had no idea McGonagall was so sadistic.
In an attempt to "unify" the school of Hogwarts, Headmistress McGonagall had decided to make a sort of game for the seventh years. They were matched with a partner in an opposing house. The two would have to spend time together every day. Yesterday at breakfast, every seventh year had to fill out a survey. The questions were easy and Hermione had finished quickly.
Even after The War, students didn't want friends in other Houses. A few overlaps were found; a Hufflepuff in a Ravenclaw group, a Gryffindor in with a Hufflepuff, a Slytherin dating a Ravenclaw: but it was few and far between. Most expressed a loyalty to their House. They were mostly well matched with each other and the tight groups of friends created in your House were like your family, now and forever.
Unlike most students, Hermione understood where McGonagall was coming from. For the first years of their schooling, she, Harry and Ron had been the Golden Trio. Soon, though, they had branched out. Seamus, Dean and Neville were a part of their group, as was Luna Lovegood and her friend Trisha Sharps. Anthony Goldstein hung out with them a few times. They had three of four Houses covered. They were diverse and different in every aspect and their clashes brought them closer.
Most people denied a prejudice against Slytherin House but it was obvious they were still somewhat outcasts. However, the Slytherins stuck together. Hermione admired that. Often, Harry and Ron spoke of "those backstabbing snakes" but as far as Hermione could see, they were a far closer House then they let on.
Another sigh erupted from her mouth. Hermione looked around the barren common room. It was 6 am on a Saturday. She woke up early to go running. Unlike wizarding girls, she exercised instead of taking potions to stabilize their weight. She doubted the credibility of these potions… not to mention her mother would kill her if she took any.
Hermione ran one green fingernail down the list of Gryffindor seventh years. It seemed as though every other line was a friend of hers so she quickly checked their partners. Neville Longbottom was with Susan B. in Hufflepuff. Harry was with Padma Patil and Seamus was partnered up with Peter Harris, both Ravenclaw. Poor Ron was stuck with Pansy Parkinson. Hermione checked the rest and then got to her name at the bottom. Moving her finger over, she bit her lip.
Blaise Zabini? Who was he?
Moving her finger over again, she carefully wrote down the time and place they were to meet today: the Fairytale Section of the Library at 9 pm. After double checking, she walked back up to the girls' dorm to change into her jogging clothes, careful not to wake her roommates. Placing her magically altered Ipod into her pocket, she slipped out of the room silently.
As she stepped out of a long corridor into the fresh air, a sudden wave of excitement hit Hermione. Something was going to change, she just knew it.
As she turned on Coheed and Cambria, Hermione started jogging. As the beat quickened, so did her pace. Soon, she was sprinting around the lake. Thoughts raced in and out of her head. How did she get paired with a Slytherin?
The answer came to her immediately. She knew why. While she was popular in Gryffindor, she never fully fit in. She had tons of friends in all the Houses but she knew why she felt particularly guilty about judging the Slytherins.
Since Hermione was five, she had always had a cynical and sarcastic sense of humor. A dry comment always made her laugh. She often had to disguise her laughter in the hallway and in Potion's class. Snape used to make so many sarcastic remarks and their new teacher made just as many, if not more. The Slytherins and even the Ravenclaws were quick with insults. It amused her greatly but Harry and Ron could never know that.
They were valiant Gryffindors: lying for the greater good and would sooner give you the shirt off their backs than hurt you. Hermione thought of them fondly. They were her boys and she would protect them until the end but somehow, they were different. Two of a kind and Hermione. The Golden Boys and their cover.
More often than not, she bit back remarks to say to them.
As she finished her third lap around the lake, only slightly winded, Hermione laid down in the grass to stare at the passing clouds. There was a rustle of grass to her right. Turning her amber eyes in the direction of the noise, they connected into deep silver pools. Pushing herself up, suddenly uncomfortable in her shorts and sports bra, Hermione blushed.
"I wasn't expecting company." She explained. She berated herself on the inside. "Can I help you, Malfoy?" The seventh year Slytherin boy sat down next to her and made no move to talk. Hermione stared curiously at him. "Draco?"
He turned to look at her. "May I ask you a question?"
Hermione tilted her head, but turned away. "Of course."
A few minutes of silence followed and Hermione studied him out of the corner of her eyes. Ever the aristocrat's son, Draco Malfoy looked put-together even at seven in the morning. His short blond hair was cut short and his robes hung loose, though his body was built. Even sitting in the grass, he looked at ease.
"Why does everyone hate Slytherin?"
The question took her by surprise. She ran a hand through her hair, as she usually did when thinking. Hermione picked up a rock, fondling it for a second before throwing it with all her might into the water as far out as it could reach. Draco looked startled.
"Voldemort." Hermione noticed his slight flinch at the name. "The sorting hat states that Slytherin only accepts those who are cunning and sneaky, smart but sly. Voldemort made use of these traits and caused them to seem terrible. It's not your fault." She glanced at him.
He nodded. As if suddenly realizing who he was talking to, he blushed slightly. "Don't tell anyone about this… I have a reputation."
"I'll make you a deal." She said. Draco looked over, curious. "I won't tell anyone we're talking if you don't tell anyone that the Sorting Hat wanted to put me in Slytherin."
His jaw dropped. "What?"
"Cunning and sly and smart and sneaky." Hermione grinned, leaning back. "The hat said that I was the poster girl for Slytherin but my bravery and light heart made me a true Gryffindor."
Draco nodded. "That makes sense. Potter and Weasley could never save their asses without you." He stood up, brushing off his hands on his pants. "You know, I'm hungry. Want to join me in the kitchens? We can discuss this ludicrous project of DraGonagall's."
Standing up, Hermione conjured up a sweartshirt and put it on. "That sounds great. I'm so hungry." As the two walked into the castle, Hermione spared a glance back at the lake. "It looks like it's going to rain."
Draco glanced back too. "That just means the castle will be asleep until noon. We have five hours to eat the way I see it." He looked down, slightly embarrassed. "Sorry. I get a little carried away."
Hermione smiled at him. "It's ok. The War is over." She stopped at a window, noticing the first drops of rain hitting the green grass. She stared out for a moment, before turning to Draco, a hesitant smile on her pink lips. "We can finally live."
The hesitant smile did him in. Draco wrapped one large arm around Hermione's tiny body and began walking. "Ms. Granger, I believe we are going to have the most interesting of friendships."
A giggle erupted from her throat. "I must concur, Mr. Malfoy." She placed her petite arm around his waist.
"Oh my god, no way!" Hermione practically choked on her pancaked.
Draco flushed pink. "You can't tell ANYONE! So far, only you and Blaise know!"
Her eyes flitted up to his. "Blaise?"
"Yeah, he's been my best friend for twelve years. We're tight."
Hermione nodded. "So you've only told myself and your best friend that you're… well… gay?"
His cheeks flushed again. "Yes, now shut up." His smirked quickly came onto his face. "What's this I hear about you and the little Weasley girl making out in Gryffindor common room?"
Hermione shrugged. "It was a dare. She wasn't very good." Draco spit out his juice and roared with laughter.
There came a knocking at the portrait before it opened slowly. Hermione looked over as a tall African boy stepped in. Her breath nearly caught in her throat. He was at least six foot three with a strong jaw and chocolate eyes. He didn't wear a uniform like Draco did, instead opting for loose jeans ripped at one knee and a dark blue sweater.
He looked over and saw Draco and Hermione. A small grin made its way onto his face. Draco grinned as well. "Hey, Blaise."
Blaise walked over and took a seat next to Draco, stealing his coffee cup and downing it in seconds. A small pink house elf scurried over and handed him a large mug and he downed that as well. Hermione tilted her head in curiosity.
Draco nudge Blaise. "Blaise, old boy, this is Hermione."
He nodded but made no move to talk until he finished his mug. "Sorry, Hermione." He stuck out a large hand for her to shake. "Great to finally meet you?"
"Finally meet me?"
"Yes." He nodded again. "We've had Runes and Potions together this entire year."
Hermione's mouth fell open. "Really?"
Draco grabbed his cup from Blaise. "Really. He comes in at the last seconds, leaves quickly and stays in the shadows." He looked his friend up and down. "I know. You're thinking what I'm thinking. How can a big black fellow like him hide?"
Blaise shoved Draco. "Shut up, you poof."
A growl came from Draco's throat before a toothy smile appeared on his lips. "Guess what else, Hermione? He's a virgin, too."
Blaise's fist shot out but Draco caught it. "Draco. My god."
A soft giggle came from Hermione's lips. "It's ok, Blaise. He just wants you for himself."
Draco huffed. "I surely do not." He grimaced at Blaise. "Tall, dark and Blaise just isn't me."
Hermione looked at the clock in the kitchen's. "Oh. It's almost eleven. Harry and Ron will be up any moment. I have to get back and take a quick shower."
"Are you their mother?" Draco scoffed. "Surely, they can dress themselves. Or do you spoon feed them?" He laughed. "Maybe both."
Hermione didn't care how well she had gotten along with Draco all morning. She was sorry she was going to take her frustration out on Draco Malfoy but she was dead tired of people assuming she did EVERYTHING for Harry and Ron.
She leaned over the table, her eyes meeting his. "Look, Draco, while this has been nice, I really must be going. I have to go bath and cloth the boy who took down Voldemort, one of the most powerful men of our time that even your father bowed to, and the boys who was at his side no matter what said beastly man threw at him." She pulled back and picked up her Ipod. "They're better men then you could hope to be, Draco Malfoy."
As Hermione walked from the kitchens, she heard Blaise's deep baritone laughing lightly. As she stepped out of the portrait, she heard his final comment. "She's got you there, my friend."
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