Chapter Two - A Plea from Dumbledore
The beginning of the year festivities couldn't go by fast enough, in Hermione's opinion, and truthfully she couldn't tear her eyes away from Dumbledore's - any moment he would look in her direction and would simply have to see her fury with the entire unfortunate situation of Draco Malfoy and her - partners. How absolutely revolting. Her feet tapped impatiently through the entirety of the Sorting Hat's song - which had something to do with fixing broken ties. Her claps were forced as new first years took their place at the Gryffindor table. Her plate of food remained untouched and then, miraculously - "Prefects will lead their houses to their common rooms for the remainder of the night."
Shoving herself from her spot at the table (and very nearly knocking Ron over in the process), Hermione strode towards Dumbledore. Finally, his eyes flickered towards hers and - was that a twitch of amusement from underneath his beard? She almost slowed, doubting if this was really best. It wasn't until she saw Malfoy making the same beeline towards the Headmaster did she almost break out into a run, anxious to get the first word. If anyone was going to retain their badge, it was going to be her.
"Professor Dumbledore, sir," Malfoy yelled, picking up his pace. It was an uncharacteristically polite tone he usually reserved for no professor but Snape, the Potions master. "If I could just have a word-"
"Yes, yes," chortled Dumbledore, eyes full of merriment. "You can both have your say, but I should think here a very inappropriate place for it." Sure enough, the entire table of professors lingered, watching Malfoy and Hermione with high amusement. Hagrid had a look of concern, to which Hermione tried to communicate everything was alright - or at least it was about to be. "Follow me to my office," Dumbledore instructed, bright blue robes flashing as he turned and led them through a side door. Malfoy shot her a dirty glare as she rushed to be first after the Headmaster. Ha, she thought. You can't very well insult me right now, can you? Hermione only wished he would, just to prove her point.
They arrived at the gargoyle that Hermione recognized as the entrance to the Headmaster's office; sure enough, as soon as Dumbledore breathed the words 'toffee eclair' the gargoyle leapt into action and cleared the way for the odd trio to enter. Hermione felt a sort of pride to be standing in the Headmaster's office. She never would admit it, but all of Harry's admissions to such a rarely viewed place made her rather jealous. Now, she could freely admire all the wonderful magical artifacts and tools and oh, was that Fawkes the Phoenix?
Wait. That all had to wait. She had a purpose being here, and that was to stop Malfoy and his rottenness from running the entire school into the ground. As soon as the wizened headmaster took a seat and conjured up two chintzy armchairs for his guests, Hermione began.
"Sir, I trust your decision in the end but I just can't help wonder why I've been paired with Malfoy as Head Boy - I mean, surely you must know how he..." She paused. Should she accuse Malfoy in front of him like this? It was true, he had tormented her every day of her life here at Hogwarts, hexing her, calling her foul names, making her life a living hell when he could. But there was that nagging feeling (that she attributed to having a conscience) that said it wasn't fair to shame Malfoy like this in front of Dumbledore. At least, not while Malfoy was standing here himself.
The nagging feeling faded in an instant as Malfoy opened his horrible, lying mouth. "Sir, you can't imagine how uncooperative Granger was on the train today - she simply refused to help me, all because, well, I think she's rather upset with me for doing better than her on the Potions exam last year-"
Hermione's face became crimson red, her mouth fell open, and before she could regain control of her voice, Dumbledore spoke.
"That's enough now, from both of you," he said, though his eyes flashed in warning towards Malfoy. "Believe it or not, I know about your animosity towards one another (though it pains me) and under any other circumstances, my choices in Head Boy and Girl would be far more... suitable for day-to-day interaction. However, I have picked each of you - yes, each of you, Mister Malfoy - for very specific purposes. I'm afraid you won't have a very normal school year at all."
When do we ever? both of the students couldn't help but think. Unsure of what to say, they remained quiet to allow Dumbledore his explanation.
"In times of such hardship, nothing is more important in the wizarding community than keep strong ties between one another," Dumbledore continued. Malfoy scoffed. If Dumbledore thought he could have a strong tie with Granger, the Mudblood, the old man was barmier than he thought. "That's why this year we are entertaining the idea of student ambassadors. Unfortunately, after the Triwizard Tournament, Hogwarts could certainly suffer to have better relations with both Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. I'm afraid both schools hold a bit of hostility towards us - after all, we did have two champions."
"But I thought all that was worked out!" Hermione cried. "I mean, we learnt who entered Harry and why!"
"Yes, that is true, which is why both schools have forgiven us. But the fact remains, the Tournament was meant to unify, but it did quite the opposite I'm afraid," said Dumbledore.
"So," Malfoy began slowly, "are you saying I'm to go to Durmstrang to be an ambassador and Granger to Beauxbatons?" Hermione could tell he was eager to separate from her, and she couldn't help share this sentiment. But Beauxbatons? All the way in France? When her friends were here? It was a sickening way to imagine her last year.
"Heavens, no," replied Dumbledore. "No one will be setting foot near Durmstrang. In recent times, it's turned completely to the education of Dark Arts, I'm afraid. Our ties with them, unfortunately, will be temporarily severed. Beauxbatons however, is more than willing to accommodate two of our finest students."
Draco blanched. He would still be stuck with the Mudblood. The Mudblood who sat next to him, shifting uncomfortably in her seat, probably thinking about how superior in intelligence she was to him.
"Sir," she began timidly. "I don't think I'd like to leave Hogwarts and my friends when it's my last year here..."
Draco was shocked to hear the teacher's pet openly dislike a professor's ideas - much less the Headmaster!
"Of course, no one is forcing you to go. However, I must say, you will have free reign to visit Hogwarts any weekend you please, or for any holidays. A Floo network has been set up between the two schools, in fact, if you'd like to see them daily. Additionally, as part of our experiment, Hogwarts will often have school trips for those fifth year and up to visit Beauxbatons, and vice versa. I would venture to say you'll be seeing Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley weekly, if not more. As for not attending Hogwarts classes... Well, I hardly think this is the last year you'll be spending at Hogwarts, if I recall Minerva's reports on your impeccable transfiguration abilities."
Hermione gaped. Was he alluding to her being a professor here? She was stunned - absolutely thrilled, of course, but stunned.
"I implore the two of you, do think about it. I chose you both because of your specific talents. You'll have the week to decide, and I'll be having meetings with each of you individually, for I fear no other two students might fill the role half as well as you two." And with that, Dumbledore dismissed the baffled students, who parted ways without so much as a glare or snide comment.
Harry and Ron's expressions were just what Hermione imagined them to be - jaws to the floor, eyes wide, and an almost irritating amount of time before any words came out of their mouths.
"Beauxbatons?" Ron asked again.
"But that's in the Alps, Hermione," said Harry, as though he couldn't fathom a place further away.
"The Pyrenees, Harry, the Pyrenees," she corrected. "I have to say... The idea is attractive." She bit her lip nervously. "Beauxbatons offers loads of classes we don't have here, and when I think of how much I'd be learning..." She drifted off.
"Of course, that's the up side," said Ron. "But the down side..."
"I won't be at school with my two best friends." The thought was painfully depressing. And with Malfoy, she couldn't help but add in her mind bitterly.
"Hermione," said Harry, looking struck by... Well, something. He suddenly seemed resolute. She didn't know whether to be worried or not. When Harry became resolute, it was either a stroke of genius or an implication of doing something stupidly reckless. "Hermione, I think you should absolutely go for it - it's a once in a lifetime opportunity."
It was Hermione's turn for her jaw to drop. She had a part of her, without knowing it, that had hoped one of them would say this but... She still never expected it. Neither, apparently, did Ron.
"What?" he roared. "We can't just lose our best friend to the bloody French!"
"Ron, Dumbledore said they've connected a Floo network - we could see her everyday, the only difference being she won't be in class, but even now, most of her schedule is different from ours. Plus, Dumbledore thinks it's best and I can't help but believe him," said Harry firmly, and surprisingly reasonable. Hermione thought she might cry. She didn't realize this is what she wanted until now, either, and she studied Ron's face with growing apprehension. He looked back at her, for a long time too, expression unreadable.
"It'll be bloody weird, but... I reckon I could get used to it. If I knew you were happy and all," Ron said stubbornly.
"Oh Ron! Harry!" Hermione couldn't keep it in any longer - tears were pouring from her eyes and she threw her arms around her two friends - the best friends anyone could ask for. She received awkward half hugs back and pulled away, face shining. "You'll have to keep me absolutely informed on everything. Oh, I do think I'd like to come back here for transfiguration, I can't imagine having a teacher other than Professor McGonagall..."
"But Malfoy though," whistled Ron. "Bloody hell. Hopefully they'll put him at the opposite end of that school. I wouldn't touch him with a ten foot pole."
Malfoy certainly was the main reason Hermione had any doubt left in her mind.
She also had a feeling Dumbledore knew this, and would be discussing it with her very, very shortly.
The next day, Draco lay on his bed, unmoving, for a very long time. Other Slytherin boys came and went from the dormitory, but nobody disturbed him. It was clear he was deep in thought, and it was also clear, after all these years, not to interrupt him. He could barely put together any reasons to go to bloody Beauxbatons, except for classier, more attractive girls, and he couldn't think of any reasons to stay at bloody Hogwarts, other than he had already created a reputation and following that he rather enjoyed.
Of course, Weasley and Potter, the idiots, would be at Hogwarts.
Yet the Mudblood, damn her obsession with learning, would probably choose Beauxbatons for their range of classes.
He sighed. You just couldn't escape filth, no matter what school you went to.
He considered talking to someone about it. Certainly not Crabbe or Goyle; they couldn't even formulate a proper sentence on a good day. Zabini was his friend for status reasons. Pansy was ghastly to talk to. He could just imagine Granger shrieking to Potty and Weasel about what an amazing privilege, and them, being so obsessed in their little sanctified trio, told her that they would support her no matter what she decided.
He sat up from his bed, letting out another sigh. Whatever decision he made wouldn't matter until he spoke to his father about it. Draco headed to the owlery, full of discontent.
A/N: I hope you're liking it! I'm not sure if it's going to slow or not, I'm actually about five chapters into writing it though. Thanks for reading it though and also I got a review and I am extremely happy about it! Thank you!